Hey, yes I am back! I did not accomplish all of the real-life goals we set earlier this summer, but I did achieve one of the most promising of them: looks like I'm going to be getting a new job, at a local book store! Really happy about this of course, as reading is one of my passions. I love the way brand-new books smell, as well. 📚 I'm usually in the store at least once or twice a week, most of the folks who work there know me by now, so this definitely helped. Because it's not like I ever went to school for this sort of thing (my immediate superior has a degree in Library Science...)

As far as relationships go, that's still an uphill struggle. Always will be, as we all get older. I've been making time to get out there. Can't do the online thing (urgh, I just can't) but I have gone to a couple singles nights. But I can't keep putting off writing, so here I am.


@macole-- Yea, that was ... um, I was like "whoa!" She's still in her Imperial gear! UESP has quite a chart regarding how all the different factions work in TES 3, there's a chart on this page which explains how it all works.

So yeah, Ashlanders have a -2 reaction against Imperial Legion. Guess we're lucky they didn't outright attack my Joanie.


@SubRosa-- Yeah, it really is unknown, the direction we're heading in. Although I've inadvertently read a few spoilers over the years, overall I'm still playing pretty blind.

Ironically, the whole waterwalking thing became unnecessary over the long run, as it's not that bad (takes about a day in-game) to simply walk from Maar Gan to Urshilaku. But at the time, her idea to take the long way paid off, in the sense she was completely able to avoid a few predators, especially a few daedra.

And yeah, it's a good thing she had all those "gifts" and a bit of money to spend. 💰 Urk


@Acadian-- Thank you, paladin. Indeed, Joan was travelling with a bowgirl, I think I have a picture of her.

Yep, here she is. This pair made quite a team. Morrowind's archers aren't so bent on loosing their missiles into our backs (they don't move around as much) so Joan's close-combat melee was perfectly complimented by the bowgirl's arrows.



Turns out it wasn't so bad. Still, now that the armor's off, things did progress with a lot more ease in the next chapter.


@WellTemperedClavier-- Thanks, really appreciate the return welcome. Again, it was good she did come to Urshilaku bearing plenty of 'gifts'. Didn't see any of that coming. In Morrowind we can't carry too many items of course, not without Speed getting drained quite a bit. So it's amazing she had a few things she could spare, to further things right along.

I love the fact that what we wear can make quite a difference in this game.

The next chapter is ready to post, but maybe I'll let it simmer overnight. Yeah, think I'll do that.

Chapter XLVII: Entertaining the Prophecies

Joan found an old basket located just beyond the camp, and stored her armor pieces away. This would've been more of an embarrassing feat for her if she'd been more of an egotistical, arrogant sort of person. If she'd shown up to Urshilaku as swashbuckling and righteous for instance, trying to propagate any beliefs or benefits of her precious Nine over the Dunmeri's faith toward Lord Nerevar for instance, perhaps by now the entire camp would be sending her away with the Ashlander's equivalent of scythes and pitchforks. As it was, they'd already seen her wearing Imperial pieces, yet now she'd try again to persuade them, this time donning the apparel of a commoner. Hopefully this wouldn't be a problem.

She also removed her heavy iron boots, returning to the camp barefoot, although eventually (as her feet became filthy with ash) she'd opt for a pair of cheap moccasins bought from the camp's trader.

"Say what you want, or go away!"

"I have no patience with outlanders."

Undeterred, Joan moved by them without any comment, keeping her eyes averted and dour. By grace, nobody even mentioned her change of apparel. Perhaps their capacity for criticism in this regard wasn't so great, because here we have a grouping of nomads whose lives consisted of dwelling on the verge of strife at all times, who'd been outcast from common society due to their supposedly heretical beliefs. Perhaps the possibility to become pompous or fault-finding under such conditions simply could not occur, because they'd all been in similar situations to where Joan is now, themselves.

Still, the moment was tense. They hadn't pointed, they hadn't brayed laughter, and they hadn't forced her to leave, but there was a certain tension in the air which Joan could've carved with her magical knife. Thankfully, there was only one more camp-dweller she'd need to speak to.

"Yes, outlander," Zabamund the Gulakhan said after Joan Marie reentered his yurt. "What may I do for you?"

Joan had already spoken to him before, had given him coin and had somehow managed to butter him up with the right sort of words, hence his relaxed tone of voice. But now she took the time to converse with him again, chattering in (what she hoped) was a somber yet crucial tone of voice, utilizing small banter to ease any further worries, asking questions.

Finally, it was time to get to the point.

"Talk, outlander. Speak with respect, and I will listen."

The visitor nodded. "I, Joan of the outlands, am hereby present for an opportunity to converse with Sul-Matuul, sera. And yet, my presence portends upon the outset, as I have been advised that I must speak to you, first."

"The Nerevarine Prophecies are not for outlanders," the gulakhan started, surprising Joan. "Why should Sul-Matuul and Nibani Macsa speak to you about these things?" Zabamund grabbed what looked to be a cup of tea from a nearby saucer on the floor. He was about to take a sip, but left the cup hovering just beneath his chin, as though a sudden thought had occurred. Or, perhaps he was doing this for dramatic effect. "Who are you, that we should trust you?"

At the mention of the prophecies, Joan stiffened. It hadn't been her intention to broach such a sensitive subject, and so soon!

"Ehm, well. I have been sent to better understand the Nerevarine, sera," she began. "That it might be I, who shall become graced with the task of gathering heretofore unforeseen knowledge, and expand upon the understanding of Nerevarine culture." Thinking fast, she continued as so: "As a traveling student of the College of Cheydinhal, ehm, which... I suppose I must explain that Cheydinhal is my homeland, I have studied a posy of subjects, sera, mostly specializing within doctrinal matters and customs." Joan fought a sudden urge to scratch her neck, or shift her feet about nervously. "Which is why I have ventured so far from the mainland."

Zabamund sipped his drink with an extended pinky, apparently patient for her to continue.

"I suppose you might refer to me as a sort of consort. An ambassador who's been tasked an assignment to venture far into realms which might otherwise not be as well-understood, by those who comfortably dwell within more, ehm, constrained societies. The Imperials to some extent, but really all and anyone with the desire to broaden their learnings. That those who deign to enrich their knowledge amongst the more, ehm, unrecalled members of Tamrielic existence, might then choose to do so, especially after my continued strands of research are readied and collected for expanded studies. The ideals of the Ashlander sects, detailed for those who contain the propensity for curiosity, explained by someone such as myself, who has fostered for such pursuits, firsthand. That thy truer story, the story of thy passion concerning Lord Nerevar himself, here amongst the ashes of Vvardenfell, might properly then be told...that this passion is of more importance than pleasing these so-called Great Houses of the Tribunal..."

Some of the things she mentioned were a bit of an untruth of course, in the sense that Joan was making it sound as though she were on (perhaps) a scholarly pursuit. Joan Marie of Cyrodiil, basically blabbing; attempting to see if this sudden flurry of words might further her progress. And yet, there was some validity to her explanation. As her background in scholarly pursuits dictated, she certainly was on an earnest quest for learning, although this quest was more of a personal mission, not something truly backed by any sort of school or consortium.

But how was the chitin-wearing Ashlander before her to know the difference?

"Hmm," the gulakhan rumbled gruffly. "These are not simple matters. You know a lot more than I would have thought. And some of what you say is news to me..."

Joan Marie downcast her eyes.

Amazingly, Zabamund decided to allow the Breton to continue her inquiry. "I believe you should speak to Sal-Matuul. Perhaps he will be angry with me. But I think I can bear that. Go now to the Ashkhan's Yurt," he commanded. "Ask him questions. And tell him I have sent you."

It seemed odd to Joan that Zabamund was not simply walking over to his superior's dwelling to explain these things himself. But customs were customs of course; perhaps such a simple thing was unthinkable. In any event, she left Zabamund's tent, ready to speak to Urshilaku's ashkhan.

Upon re-entering his home, Joan immediately noted that Sal-Matuul appeared to be relaxed this time, as though he already knew Joan had been allowed to speak with the village's premier gatekeeper. No purplish shielding-magic surrounded the elf, nor did he suddenly display his gigantic, magical broadaxe.

"I have returned with thoughts of benevolence, sera."

"Yes, Joan of Arkay," the ashkhan greeted, surprising the Breton once more, for how could he know of her latest decisions of faith? "You wish to talk with me about the Nerevarine prophecies? Go ahead. I am now very curious."

As always, Joan chose not to move into such delicate conversation forthwith. Instead, she bantered on a measure of less sensitive subjects: events and rumors happening around the camp, how Sul-Matuul had become the essential chief of Urshilaku, and so on. Finally, the subject at hand.

"My arrival precedes events which have been foretold through the ages, sera," Joan stated with an odd measure of confidence. "That the Nerevarine should withstand these events, and the peoples of the ashlands might gather upon the prophecies to come."

These words were virtual guar-dung of course, Joan stating whatever first notions came to mind. Yet they also contained a substantial amount of truth. Because there was no way she would be so bold as to follow Caius's directions to a fault; no way she was going to attempt to "become" the Nerevarine!!! -- Instead, she was (again) choosing to present herself as being curious about the folklore surrounding the Nerevar, as more of an academic than an actual. Might this be a decent course of action?

"You think you fulfill the Nerevarine prophecies?" Ashkhan Sul-Matuul questioned, after another half-hour or so. "You wish to be tested to see if you are the Nerevarine...?"

"Oh but no, but sera! Why, I could never..."

But the ashkhan ignored these protests. "No outlander may join the Nerevarine Cult," he informed somberly. "If you were a Clanfriend however, an adopted member of Ashlander tribes, then perhaps we can come to an agreement."

"An... come to an agreement?"

Sul-Matuul then presented an idea. "I have an initiation rite in mind, Breton. If you pass this rite, I shall adopt you as a Clanfriend of the Ashlanders. And then I shall submit you to speak to Nibani Macsa, our wise woman, who is skilled in oracles and mysteries, and who shall test you against the prophecies."

By the grace, once again, Joan found herself being thrust into a category she could only attest was not meant for the likes of her. Sal-Matuul explained that she'd need to go a cave known as Urshilaku Burial Caverns, to fetch a magical bow. This bow, like Joan's magical mace, her Blessed Sheild, and her Daggar of Judgment, had its own unique name: the Bonebiter Bow. It had once belonged to Sul-Matuul's father. If Joan could somehow enter the caverns and fetch this bow, the Ashlanders would then accept her as a Clanfriend.

Ashkhan Sul-Matuul then gave Joan detailed instructions on how to get to Urshilaku Burial Caverns. And though she decided to continue onward, into whatever was to come regarding this bizarre situation, she could not help but remember the revelations orated to her by Aradirr the card-reader back in Balmora; how her entire future existence was about to change in such a way which was completely the reverse of everything and anything she had currently known and expected.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Water Walking

Joan's Weird Hippy Dance (Hey man, this is how my 'toon chooses to relax sometimes. Dig it.)

Lopov'd Sunset

Joan is entertaining.

Getting down to her humble clothes and lack of shoes sounds like Joanie is going back to her roots here.

So Joan lays down some smack talk, and gets in the door with the Khan.

An initiation rite? That sounds like a quest to me! It's off to get the Bonebiter we go!

Good call to don her more modest attire. Joan’s speechcraft seems to be paying off as she manages to navigate the pitfalls of dealing with the ashlanders. Ah, a quest to complete – then she’s in there as friend of the clan. Fetch a bow. How hard can it be?

Urshilaku Burial Caverns, what a fun little place to get lost in

@SubRosa-- I can imagine walking around in a land full of dust would not be very fun in bare feet.

@Acadian-- It would be a fun little experiment to try: doing the whole entryway into the camp while wearing Imperial armor from the very start, and then doing it again without it. I wonder if there'd be an actual difference.

I can remember long ago in 2009, when my pure mage Igoda Go^Pe went into the Mages Guild while wearing a necromancer's robe! "By the Nine, take those awful robes off!" Jeanne Frasoric said angrily!! .

Sometimes in Morrowind the Imperial Legions won't even speak to Joan unless she's wearing Imperial armor. The Ashlanders won't actually say anything, but I think clothing choices factor into Disposition chances.

@macole-- Yeah, you ain't kidding; the place is a lot more massive than we thought. It's hard to keep track of where we are, too. It's not exactly fun for Joan, well, NOW it might be sort of fun. After she's picked up a certain new spell.

I had a really fun weekend, but now I'm hungover. Good thing is, the next chapter is ready to go, and will be up soon.

Chapter XLVIII: Urshilaku Burial Caverns

6 Rain's Hand (Day 234) to 10 Rain's Hand (Day 238), 3E 428


Nothing is easy out here in the Ashlands, of course. As it turns out, exploring Urshilaku Burial Grounds was not a simple feat, but that’s getting ahead of ourselves; first trick was to simply find the place.

Sul-Matuul’s directions were even more vague than those given to her by Caius or anyone else. Was it impossible for any of these blokes to draw up a simple map? It was almost as if everyone was testing Joan to see how far she’d continue upon her wayward path, laughing in their yurts and their hovels while she blundered.

As she attempted to scout her way across dusty plains (the expected ash storm happy to greet her) and down gruesomely-bleak trailways, Joan of Arkay began to wonder what would happen if she simply gave it all up. Simply turned around, gathered the personal belongings she’d been storing in Balmora, and headed back to Seyda Neen. Bought herself a pass for the next boat-ride back to mainland, so she could return to Cyrodiil. Aye. Such delightful thoughts.

She’d return a much stronger, much smarter, much more capable warrior/crusader. Perhaps she could resume her studies in Cheydinhal. Perhaps she could join Cyrodiil’s military, where her particular combination of weapon skills and magical talents would be regarded as somewhat unique. Surely, she’d make a point to return to the Chapel of Arkay, where she’d then badger a tomeful of questions to the priests and deacons who’d seemingly misled her!

As she encountered the first crazed individuals who’d been infected with corprus, and the ashed-over sun began heading toward its slumber (leaving her stumbling in a darker world full of flying dust), fantasizing a return to her homeland morphed from its certain charming foothold within her mind, to an all-consuming desire for sunshine and leafy-green foliage.

No more ash storms! …. NO more threatening persons. And best of all: Sweetrolls!!! Sweetrolls and sweetcakes, milk and honey, and no food made from bugs or large, crawling maggots. And CHEESE! Lots of varieties of cheese; a different variety from every section of the province.

She'd also likely find herself under the direct command of someone who wasn't a user of skooma, assuming she continued into Cyrodiil's Legion. Not that she had any actual proof, but there was that one time she'd gone to visit Caius, and spotted what looked to be a clay smoking pipe in a corner of his hovel. Caius had always been professional, always eager to boost the confidence of his immediate charge. But the crusader couldn't help but notice his reddish eyes and his jittery body movements, and his place always reeked of something.

But following such a pursuit would be like giving up, Joan surmised grimly after bashing a corprus-infected man to oblivion. She’d been sent to Vvardenfell by the Gods, and for a very succinct set of reasons. How would they favor a quitter?

But then she got lucky. A large stone structure eventually loomed from the darkness, just as it seemed Mundus was done for the day. If anything, here was a place she could set down for the night, assuming there weren’t any enemies lurking inside. Turns out, she didn’t need to worry.





Joan had found a Dunmer stronghold called Falasmaryon. For some reason, a master trainer named Missun Akin had decided to take up residence next to the stronghold, and had been living in his own separate hut for some time. Missun had nothing to do with the residents inside the stronghold, and cautioned Joan about venturing inside their domain.

“Blessed!” Joan said enthusiastically after a bit of friendly banter. “Might ye find fit to accompany the likes of me, as I bungle my way across these wretched lands?”

Her travelling arrangement became nearer to perfect. Not only did she now have a guide who could help her locate Urshilaku’s caverns, Missun also knew the land. He knew how to deal with the corprus beings they occasionally encountered, without getting infected. Best of all, her new aide was a master at handling his bow, perfectly complimenting Joan’s skills with melee combat. Missun Akin also became a welcome presence whenever Joan returned to Urshilaku Camp (which she’d later need to do at least a half-dozen times over the coming days and weeks…). She had managed to befriend a native archer whom the Ashlanders were more comfortable speaking with.





Still, their first traipse into the burial caves, once they finally found the place, did not go so well. The place was semi-lit by occasional torches and glowing lichens, but half of Urshilaku’s initial underground chamber was filled with water. Joan could cast her nifty water-walking spell, but her companion was forced to swim. Casting spells over and over meant Joan would then need to rest (for she’d long run out of mana potions) and resting took time. Time, as it passed by, meant an eventual need for sustenance.

The place was inhabited by skeletons, one which was able to paralyze Joan several times with its magical arrows. And though Missun dispatched these unliving menaces with his own bow of bonemold, there was nothing to find once all the enemies were downed. No magical “Bonebiter” bow down here. Joan’s supplies: her food, her potions, and so on, were dwindling at this point. After many hours it was time to vacate. Time to return to the camp.

Fortunately, Urshilaku Camp had its very own trader, who was well-stocked with foodstuffs and sundries.

To relocate the place easier next time, Joan dropped a set of cheap gauntlets she’d found near an intersection of pathways just outside Urshilaku’s entry door. There. The forces of adversity can’t fool this adventurer.

During their second delve into the caverns a day later, she just happened to look upwards…

“Curses!”

…where she noticed what looked to be a mummy: an embalmed and desiccated corpse, arranged in such a way that it was sitting in an upright position to defy the millennia.

"What is this regarding, Breton?" Missun the Marksman grumbled.

“Errgh, gaze upwards," she answered, pointing. "So this is how they’re preparing their dead.” - Come and think of it, they hadn't seen any corpses at all during their first exploration.

The mummy was located on a hollowed-out shelf of rock, high above the floor. Joan could barely reach it after jumping several times, grasping with her gauntlets for purchase upon the mummy’s slimy resting place. And yes, there were a few lonely possessions sitting nearby. Which meant that (aye), the entire initial cave would need to be scoured for more mummies.

Turns out, there were quite a few of them, but the dastardly thing was: all of them were located just out of reach. Joan needed to jump to explore their local ridges and alcoves, and this was not easy for her while parading around in heavy armor. Even after removing her boots, her greaves, her cuirass; she’d never trained to be any sort of acrobat. There were a few mummies which were completely too high for her. She just happened to have a couple potions which could enhance her abilities to jump. After drinking each one and then leaping about the room with greater movement, there was still nothing significant to find. No bloody Bonebiter Bow set next to any of the cave’s fallen.

“Well, prattle-rattles, Sera Akin. Seems we've sussed this place all to Oblivion and back.”

To Joan’s further astonishment, Urshilaku’s initial area (known as its Astral Burial Chamber, according to a placard upon its door) was not the only section of the cave. They later found a second door which led to a second chamber. There were more mummies in here, some of them located impossibly high.

“What are we to do about this?” Missun Akin muttered at one point.

To Joan, the answer to this woe quickly became clear.

“Looks as though I’ll be headed south after all,” Joan of Arkay answered. “To Ald’ruhn, to Caldera, any such town which includes a guild full of mages I can then study for the magical spell-types it looks as though I am going to require.”


-------------------------------

The entry to the burial grounds is well-hidden in plain sight.

The gloom of Urshilaku

Joan and her Missun Akin

Nothing is easy in the Ashlands, staring with the people's names!

Joan is being tempted to give up and live the easy life? I say the nay Joan! Tis but a passing phase, a natural inclination to wish to turn from the hard path ahead, for the proven road behind. But the Joan I know will not take that easy road, and that will make all the difference.

Ok, I can see why someone would get tired of the ash storms.

And Joan is not Missun out on companionship and a comrade in arms on the road I see...

Looks like Joanie wants her mummy. Who can blame her.

Looks like she was going the wrong way the entire time. She needs to go up, rather than down. I can't remember if she had learned Levitate yet? It would certainly help here. Or those levitate boots that you get from the Mara quest.

So the Bonebiter remains yet out of reach, even after two attempts. Well here is hoping that the third time will be the charm once Joanie is retrained and fortified.

A frustrating venture for Joan. Though tempted, adversity will not deter her.

Good call to visit a guild of mages where she can learn something like a levitate spell. That will certainly help her find her mummy. And hopefully this Bonebiter Bow.

Also good that she has an archer along to help with shooting and guiding.

Joan's showing a lot of wisdom here. True believer though she is, she's also been on Vvardenfell long enough to realize that people don't take kindly to outsiders who shows up and tells folks what to do. Deeds win more respect than words, and you need to fit in at least a bit. So off with the armor, and on with her second try.

Heh, I like how the Urshilaku fits in with the game, and also is realistic: a quick change of outfit won't fool anyone.

I like the scene here, with Zabamund palavering with Joan. Wonder if Joan's over-explaining. It's usually better to go simple, but she's not someone who feels comfortable concealing the truth. And that usually means over-explaining to make up for it.

It's also very in-character for Joan to distance herself from the prophecies. I wonder what she'll ultimately end up saying when Dagoth Ur asks her what she believes. I'm guessing she'll be for the Nine and the Empire.

One of the things I like about Morrowind is that so much of it is just learning how to rub elbows with the right people. Makes it feel very realistic. And that's exactly what I'm seeing here, as well.

Ah, and now Joan has to find the burial caverns. The directions aren't bad, exactly... but you really have to pay attention.

Nothing can make you homesick quite like the Ashlands. The endless gray and grit makes you want to be almost anywhere else. Also love how she's starting to really wonder about Caius's skooma "cover".

So she's stumbled upon a stronghold. Those can be dangerous places, though at least she's found one of the trainers crazy enough to live out in the middle of nowhere. And even better, Akin will guide her!

What's the O===}=o?

Oof, the flooded portions definitely make things trickier. Urshilaku Burial Cavern's definitely when the dungeon difficulty starts ramping up.

You know, I wonder if mummification would even work in a cave that's so moist?

Sigh, and now we have that other Morrowind classic: not having the spell/item you need, and having no choice but to leave and get it. It's a tough lesson, but everyone has to go through it. Sometimes (like me) more than once.

Joan asks the age-old question, “What am I doing here and why do I put up with these stiff-necked people?”

In frustration she looks up and says, ‘What? How did I miss that the first time?”

There’s a lot of that “how did I miss that” feeling in Morrrowind. It’s part of what makes Morrowind so great.

Oh, and best of luck with the new job.

Urk. Couldn't sleep too well last night, and it's not because of that. It was just random insomnia. Annoying creature. I could've drank some Nyquil or taken a homeopathic sleeping tablet, but the problem then is I'll sleep TOO much. I'll get the urge to sleep all damn morning. Next thing, it's 1 in the afternoon.

What's going on with Ophelia. Is she a hurricane? Doesn't seem so. Ah. Tropical storm. Seems like it. Wow, it's cold outside! .... Gonna need some coffee. Karen's still asleep. Gonna have to make my own, then. ☕ Yes dear.


"Nothing is easy in the Ashlands, starting with the people's names!"

Ha ha you got that right! You don't know how many times I've wondered how the heck to spell all these names and places and items correct, and have wound up going to UESP and just copy/pasting the darn things.

True, the easy path is the path most heavily-trodden, but thankfully our crusader won't be taking that path, otherwise there'd be nothing to write! Joan eventually does return to Cyrodiil just as the 4th Era begins, and somehow (in my imagination) she gets Battlehorn Castle. 🏰

"I can't remember if she had learned Levitate yet? It would certainly help here"

Nope, she has not. But you're definitely on the right train of thought. Have some sweetcake. Yes. Sir?


"Good call to visit a guild of mages where she can learn something like a levitate spell. That will certainly help her find her mummy. And hopefully this Bonebiter Bow."

Aye, this definitely is a plan which has come to fruition, out of necessity. And here's a spoiler: Turns out she didn't even NEED the spell!!! But now that she's got it, it's kind of cool to have. None of my others, even my mages, have picked up Levitation yet.

It is definitely fun having a good archer when you're playing a melee character. I'm assuming you've done the opposite sometimes. And I assume since it's Buffy's melee followers who've rushed ahead in your games that now Buffy was the one to have the choice to turn her followers into pincushions, not the other way around.


"I like the scene here, with Zabamund palavering with Joan. Wonder if Joan's over-explaining. It's usually better to go simple, but she's not someone who feels comfortable concealing the truth. And that usually means over-explaining to make up for it."

This. Very astute, Clav. I got the sense that Joan, being on her own and being put on-the-spot for a lot of this set of chapters, was suddenly grasping for ways to explain her presence in Ashland territory. She's not arrogant, nor is she ... um... irresponsible enough to proclaim herself as the prophet, come to save the world. So what else might she be thinking? How's she going to handle her sudden appearance in this semi-hostile camp?

.... not saying that for anyone who's played a character and done Morrowind's main quest that they're being arrogant or irresponsible if their character says "YES, I AM the Nerevarine!" ... I'm just saying that's how Joan would view such things.

Anyway, I think the storytelling for Chapter XLVII got a bit too wordy, sorry about that. Then again, those are exactly the things she was thinking as she spoke to the khans and Ashkhans and Gulakhans, so I'm glad to have captured it all.

"It's also very in-character for Joan to distance herself from the prophecies. I wonder what she'll ultimately end up saying when Dagoth Ur asks her what she believes. I'm guessing she'll be for the Nine and the Empire.

Oh gosh. We have the option to announce which believes we choose before the Big Boss? Yikes!

That is quite true, your 'rubbing elbows' comment. It all begins literally with the very first guards and the Census Taker guy in the very first hour of the game if we're roleplaying. It's just amazing to me how in Morrowind it's so necessary to come up with other ways to progress the Main Quest. There's a real lack of combat or other physical approaches. In Oblivion we're dealing with fighting the red-robed cultists almost right away, for instance. Skyrim, we face a nasty dragon just outside of Whiterun. Assuming we get that keystone out of Bleak Falls Barrow and then present it to Whiterun's court, we're then prodded to fight the first dragon during the earliest hours of the game.

In MW, the idea isn't so much to beat anything up as it is to figure out other methods. At least that's how the MQ is so far, mostly.

"So she's stumbled upon a stronghold. Those can be dangerous places, though at least she's found one of the trainers crazy enough to live out in the middle of nowhere. And even better, Akin will guide her!"

That was a huge, golden stroke of Good Luck, that whole sequence. You're right. Those strongholds are nothing to get involved with, so it's fortuitous that Joan was able to meet somebody who was not just friendly, but also very capable to travel along with.

The O===}=o is supposed to be a mace! Which I used as a chapter break, basically. I'm about to draw some swords next time.


"There’s a lot of that “how did I miss that” feeling in Morrrowind. It’s part of what makes Morrowind so great."

Absolutely. For years, I've heard how great and how much 'better' Morrowind's Main Quest is from all those MW fanatics we used to get bombarded with in the official forums. I'm not agreeing that it's better (it's merely different) but it definitely is great in a way.

Thanks, Vampire Hunter! I did some training for my new job this week, and I'll officially begin first week of October.

dogmatic

Chapter XLIX – Levitation

10 Rain's Hand (Day 238) to 15 Rain's Hand (Day 243), 3E 428

Why had the ancient Chimer, those early elves who'd founded what was to become Vvardenfell, placed all their corpses so far off the ground in this one set of burial crypts? Here was a question which could be answered perhaps by Tamriel's version of an anthropologist. Joan herself hadn't a clue, nor did she think anyone at the camp could give an adequate answer.

After journeying to Ald'ruhn's Guild of Mages, she sussed for a dealer who sold whatever particular magic she'd need to purchase. She knew she had several choices of spell-types, but did not know their official names.

"Have you any magics or potions or scrolls pertaining toward the ability to …ehm… float about?" she asked Guildmaster Edwinna awkwardly.

The guildmaster pointed her to Heem-La, who was perhaps Ald'ruhn's only Argonian, and the guild's resident Conjurer. Despicable magics, Joan thought. In her mind, conjuring equated toward trickery, you see. Conjuring was not for the likes of any respectable combatants (such as herself), who always fought face-to-face and fairly. The only practical use from the school of conjuring Joan possessed in her spellbook was the ability to turn undead.

Good thing was, Heem-La did have a few other spell-types in his book. "Is there something yoo need?" he rasped.

After Joan explained her situation, Heem-La offered her the ability to levitate.

"For just one-hundred drakes and fifteen, Heem-La can sell tha magic yoo need."

She could go to other merchants in other guilds or houses if she wanted something lesser; she could find potions or scrolls from other vendors, and buy the inferior Jump or Slowfall spells from them as well. But if she really wanted to expand her horizons fully, if she really wanted to be able to reach all those unexplored places up high, with full control at any time, she should really go for the best...

...problem was, her experience in the School of Alteration hadn't been so developed over the years, as she'd been in the habit of viewing Alteration as another form of 'trickery'....

...and this meant crafting a second, less potent version of Levitation from Heem-La (who was also the guild's spellmaker), so she could practice.

Her focus during school had been for exactly three spell types: she'd learned to heal herself when she was twelve, learned how to cast a light spell shortly thereafter, and when she turned fourteen had studied how to turn the undead which fostered underneath the Chapel of Arkay. Later on, as she reached the age when she could have joined the Legion, she studied a couple spells from the Destruction school. At this point (the age of sixteen) she wasn't sure if she wanted to become a Cleric or a Battlemage. Because of these odd, mid-teen choices, Joan was one of the few “holy warrior” types who also knew how to cast frost and fire-based spells.

Here in Vvardenfell at the age of 18, she learned her first true Alteration spell: Water-Walking. And this was solely so she could make her way to the remote island of Vas, to fight that dreadful necromancer.

So now, here she was again, spending just over a hundred coins so she could have the lizard scribe the spell ‘Wild Levitation’ into her book. “‘Tis a matter of necessity,” the holy knight said to herself later, as she cast and recast the practice version of this ‘trickery’, struggling as this magic fizzled half the time. “I sha’n’t get into the habit of using this …deceitful razzle-dazzle effect to avoid the adversaries along the roads."

Hmm. Only time would tell, Joan of Arkay, on that one.

After spending a couple days in Ald’ruhn she took the silt strider to Seyda Neen, and then walked to Ebonheart. Reason being, she needed compensation from the Imperial Cult, for a couple tasks done. It wasn’t like she was actually getting paid by the folks in Urshilaku after all! Any good adventuring types needed to take care of finances on their own, assuming they weren’t getting paid to do so! So...she had managed to collect enough bits of corkbulb for the cult’s healers, and had also disposed of a witch who’d been terrorizing an egg mine near the village of Khuul. Finances secured, she was ready to continue north to assist the Ashlanders.

Time ticking away, Joan felt as though she shouldn't dally about too much. Good thing was, it did not seem as though Ashkhan Sul-Matuul was in any sort of hurry to get his father’s precious bow back. It wasn't as though the elf had given her any sort of magical aids to further her search for the bow: no potions, no scrolls, no magic ring or amulet. He hadn't even mentioned any need to suss the caverns while floating in the air.

On the way out of Seyda Neen, Joan met an unusual sort of fellow who had something unexpected for sale. “For just two-hundred drakes, YOU can become the proud owner of your very own pack guar!” he promised.

So here was yet another reason why Joan of Arkay'd needed her influx of coin, for here was an offer too good to pass. After getting paid for her work in Ebonheart, she returned to Seyda Neen, where she spent most of the money she’d earned on her very own two-legged pack guar. As she walked her way north, from Seyda Neen to Hla Oad, from Caldera back to Ald’ruhn, Joan got to know her new animal well. The guar was well-trained.

She could command it to stay put or follow, fight for her or wallow. But most of all, the creature was great at doing one thing: carrying her belongings, a huge blessing she’d never would’ve guessed she’d ever need until the opportunity was here. All those scrolls and food and potions in her pack she wasn’t using, all the extra trinkets for sale and gold to trade with; her new pack guar could heft it, just like the horses and donkeys she’d seen back in Cyrodiil. With all that extra weight removed she could move about with greater vitality; her combat would become even more fluid and able, her agility to evade blows enhanced.

She named her new creature companion 'Tetra'.

--------------------------------------

Tetra the Pack Guar -- (thanks to whoever informed me about this mod)

One of Urshilaku's mummies

Joan and Tetra traveling

Those dirty commie Conjurers!

Damn Joan, even Alteration is too socialist for you? Sheesh, this chick's hardcore.

OOh, she's got the wild version of the spell. I guess that means there is no telling how fast or slow she will be going when she uses it.

Tetra is definitely a cutie.

Buffy currently runs with a melee tank companion who frees up Buffy to focus on doing uninterrupted damage by keeping bosses out of Buffy’s face. The cost is keeping her tank healed but that is in Buffy’s nature anyway. And, fortunately, there is no friendly fire in ESO.

A successful retrofit, replete with levitation spell and pack guar to carry her burdens, Joan is ready to go bow hunting among mummies in high places once again. I’m guessing the bow hunt is more of a test of Joan’s worthiness than a burning desire to get the bow back.

Oops, didn't mean to spoil that bit. But yes, you do get to decide how much you (or your character) believes in the prophecy, which is a little detail that I just love. Like you say, Morrowind has a different approach from the other TES games in that a lot of it involves navigating the politics of the land. Definitely slower-paced, but I like that about it.

Ah, neat way to divide sections.

Huh, that is a good question. Why did the Chimer place mummified bodies so high up?

It makes sense for Joan to be suspicious of conjuration or anything else that smacks of Oblivion. Luckily, she won't need to dabble in that for this particular quest.

We've all felt the Jump/Slowfall temptation before, but it's better to just bite the bullet and find a way to levitate.

Hm, interesting that she's also distrustful of Alteration. Guess that fits her personality, though.

Neat background on Joan and how she got some of her magic skills.

Ha ha! Yeah, that's the problem of working for marginalized Ashlanders; while they may be more grateful for the help, and you can actually trust their word, it's hard to get by when they don't have much to pay you with.

Oh, neat! I know there are some mods that let you have pack guars. Getting one seems like a smart move on Joan's part, especially with how much stuff any self-respecting would-be Nerevarine would carry.

I've hit a rather challenging spot with this story. Just had a look at UESP > Morrowind:Main Quest. Blurred my eyes so I don’t get any spoilers. And it looks as though I’m only about 1/3rd of the way through the MQ! Since I am planning to start writing Laprima again (let’s say some time around Thanksgiving), this means Joan’s story’s gonna end for the season, and I’ll continue with her prob’ly in May of 2024.

The reason this is challenging is this portion of Morrowind's main story gets really wordy with the dialog. There's a lot going on. And I feel like I want to capture some of it, but not ALL of it, know what I Mean? Because I don't wanna bore anybody. Anyway, we'll see.


@'Rosa: I know, right? Playing a goodie character, I tell ya. Sometimes I get the urge to write up Ana Khannda or one of my more EVIL people, just to balance the storytelling a bit.

But yeah, Tetra's really awesome to have around. I love being able to store all the extra gear Joan was carrying; it just makes organizing Joan's inventory so much easier, not to mention she walks/runs faster now!


@Paladin: I was thinking of Buffy / Oblivion, too. I know she was BFFs with Mazoga, right? Did they ever adventure together? If so, then you know what I'm saying. Mazoga rushes ahead during combat, and now Buffy's got the chance to fire her arrows without turning Mazoga into a pincushion. 🏹

It's a perspective I sometimes get while gaming with Lady Saga, basically combat becomes more challenging because if one of her tanks rushes into combat, the challenge then becomes not to hit them! - Good thing is, she's much more aware of friendly fire than any of the NPC archers.

Yes, you figured right. Getting that bow is more a test I think, than an actual requirement. It's not like any of the NPCs in Morrowind actually ever go anywhere! Most of them barely have any AI. Nissan only follows Joan due to the Supreme Follower System mod.


Clav: Hey, it's okay! I've been MQ-spoiled dozens of times by now after inadvertently reading old forum posts. In a way I'm alright with this, because I don't want to go up against Dagoth & his minions totally blind. I want to have some idea of what Joan's gonna need, this way we can sort of plan for the BIG moment while making the game feel like it's naturally moving forward. 👿

Our Acadian is an example of a gamer who prefers to be totally spoiled. He'll wait until any new game has been out for a while (and is fully patched) and then he'll read everything about the quests, and even play the game for a good while with sort-of test characters, this way he won't be floundering and blundering around. That is who Acadian is, if I'm not mistaken, he's the guy(s) who play the game before Buffy steps in.

I prefer blindness. But the advantage I have is my memory sucks. Chances are I might not even remember this whole religious choice dilemma when the moment draws near. Another advantage: sometimes I can do the same quests twice with different characters. The experience feels fresh, as long as I'm not doing these quests back-to-back with different ppl.

Yeah, I've always used 'interesting' chapter breaks. Laprima's story is quite subtle with the drawings and patterns. Let's take a moment to look at some of the breaks I've used for Kahreem and some of my other stories. Okay, here's a colorful (but tasteful) break to start with...



MM kay, how about this one?



Yeesh, all those angles! Really trying to find something tacky, though. OOh, green and yellow...



Arrgh!!! That really hurts the eyes! Like something you'd see on an acid trip. Okay, one more.



Cool, I like that one. Looks kind of Native American. A lot of times I'll make these chapter break according to the season. I remember for Xmas one time I went all out with red & green Christmas bulbs!

Regarding Alteration: I tapped into her thoughts, and yeah, she's got a reason why it's not a Major. Even shield spells are regarded as trickery in her mind. She's one of those warriors who prefers her own iron and steel for protection.

I forget who told me about Tetra. I thought it might be you, actually. But if it's not you then it's gotta be macole, maybe Lopov.

Next story, up in a few, on this chilly, dreary Saturday. Brr!!!!

Chapter L – Urshilaku Burial Caverns, part II

16 Rain's Hand (Day 244) to 17 Second Seed (Day 245) 3E 428


It was early morning here in Maar Gan. The crusader had spent a restful evening in the village's Andus Tradehouse, and was now preparing to head north. A breakfast of eggs and saltice, a few moments to stretch those muscles, and she was ready to go.

“Hey there, Tetra. Ready to go for walk?" Joan retrieved a handful of potions from one of Tetra's saddle-pouches, and added a couple food items for him to carry. "I do apologize, as it shall be another rather lengthy journey. The strider don’t go to Urshilaku Camp.”

“Ghrrr,” said the pack guar.

“Hmm. Might that be ‘aye’? Or ‘nay’?”

“Ghrrr,” said the pack guar.

“Hmph. So, that’s it, eh? All ya have to say: ‘ghrr’?”

The animal sidled up to his new owner. “Ghurrr,” he said, rubbing his enormous snout upon Joan’s shoulder.

“Ya know, you’d be surprised by this, but you’re already much more of a conversationalist than most of the folks I’ve traipsed with across this land. Just wait’ll I pick up with another Imperial soldier!” Joan of Arkay grinned. “Quite an unforthcoming crowd, that lot.”

The guar, even though he’d never understand the complexities of languages used by intelligent bipedal beings, all the pronouns, the verbs, the qualifiers, the adjectives and adverbs, the past participles, the difference between First person, Second Person, and Third person when referring to oneself and others during speech, the differences between past, present, and future, and so on, the creature seemed to pick up on his master’s humor. “Ghrr,” he said, bobbing his head up and down, perhaps acting out a person’s ability to laugh.

“Ha ha hey,” Joan said in a rare moment of humor. “Off we go to Urshilaku, then!”

“Ghurr.”

The pair walked north, leaving today from the Redoran burb of Maar Gan. Here, she’d made one grand, final purchase: an authentic Nordic-styled helmet made of iron, horns and all, which had a closed face. Joan wasn’t in the habit of wearing helms, as she preferred to be more aware of her surroundings as she travelled. But the reason for her new headgear: now when caught in a sudden, furious ash storm (and weren't they all sudden and furious?) she would no longer get dust in her eyes, and gritted within her hair! … When not wearing this admittedly silly helmet, it could simply hang from one of the hooks of Tetra’s saddle.

The forces of adversity? They had nothing against this adventurer.

<=======}--o

Ten hours later…
"Ah, you are back," Missun Akin said upon Joan’s return to the camp. “And who have we here? Looks as though you’ve got yourself a familiar.”

Back with the Ashlanders of Urslilaku, Joan Marie spent the rest of her coin to broaden her companion's assortment of things. He now possessed over a hundred arrows of bonemold, as well as the dozens of magical arrows they'd gathered up from Urshilaku's skeletons. Healing potions to be used when needed (although Joan could also heal the man up with a touch spell), as well as food, and a promise of grand amounts of gold to come.

How and when would this ‘grand amount of gold’ manifest itself? Well stick around, Sera Akin. Stick around, and see for yourself.

<=======}--o

Second Seed 18
Good thing was, they’d already explored Urshilaku's Astral Chamber so now they could skip it, which trimmed away multiple hours. Instead, they made a left when they came to the door which was semi-hidden over a small pond. They’d missed this door during their first delve. Inside the door was a second chamber: Karma Burial. And once inside of Karma, the crusader consulted her notes.

"Seems we are to choose the first left, and then inch our way upwards toward the next partition of Urshilaku, known as Laterus."

"Three blessings, sera," Missun Akin answered.

"Many thanks, we are perhaps going to need them."

Once inside of Laterus, Joan told the elf to continue following, just in case they’d need to dispatch any more skeletons. But as it turns out, Missun Akin, as gifted as he was while walking the overland, was horrid at subterranean exploring; at least in this portion of the cave. Immediately his feet slipped. Joan had a look back down the slope they’d been inching upon, only to see her associate floundering in the pool of water below.

So, Joan’s second idea was to have the marksman stay behind.

"Guard that door please, at which ye shall stand. Partially to deter any menaces from following through, and partially so that this spot remains marked. Urshilaku is quite cavernous. Easy to lose one’s place within." - Plus, there’d be no way he'll manage to attempt some of the feats I am hopefully to perform, she kept to herself.

"There is someone watching me," Missun grumbled, "I can tell."

"Perhaps. If so, I can probably handle my own from here. Perhaps, and probably. Overall, I do wonder if Sul-Matuul might be trying deliberately to prevaricate the situation. 'Tis one notion which shall certainly be ascertained."

The path wandered forward in two directions: she could venture toward the right, or she could walk up a narrow slope made of stone to their left. A pool of water bubbled just to the right. "Oh lords, please. If the Bonebiter Bow is located underwater, well, I shall quite detest that."

Instead she clambered up the slope, which (as mentioned) was very narrow. One wrong step, and she’d be soon be falling!

And here across the way was the first instance of a mummy, perched upon his ledge of rock like an eternal sentry. Problem is, this former mortal had been placed roughly thirty feet above the ground.

"Right. Here goes."

Joan gathered her thoughts and focused them upon the glyph she’d had inscribed within her spellbook. The glyph she visualized symbolized an ability to do an amazing thing: to float in midair. To levitate. By now she'd casted a practice version of this spell multiple times just before going to bed, in an effort to try improving its results. Still, she was not so great with Alteration yet.

Fortunately, her first attempt at the 'full' version of Levitation did not result in a fizzle. She focused her mind, raised her arms, cast the spell, and a dim hue of purple magic resulted beneath her feet. The spell had worked! – Now she could calmly make her way across the chasm before her, as easily as she could walk to the market to buy a cache of kwama eggs. Only catch was, she'd only have a half-minute to do this. So it was just like walking over water; she would need to count seconds in her mind as she floated around the cave, otherwise she'd find herself falling to the pond or (dreadfully…) to any rocks or stalagmites below.






Feeling a bit unsure, the Crusader from Cyrodiil stepped into thin air: one foot, and then the other. Trickery or not, here was something truly marvelous. She allowed herself a couple seconds to glance the treacherous landing below, and (lo!) found herself beginning to enjoy this new ability of hers. Now that she was actually using her new magic out here in the field she found herself glad she hadn't opted for temporary versions of it, via potions or scrolls.

The mummy was just in front of her, though. Time to walk toward him. Unfortunately, he did not harbor any bows upon his person, magical or otherwise, he only possessed the usual portions of bonemeal and ash salts; nothing she could use.

"Of course not. Because such would be too easy a venture," Joan muttered to the gauze-wrapped individual before her. "Would it not?"

She paced into the air for a bit: left, right, up and down, but saw no other mummies. So she gathered herself over the path she'd been on, three seconds shy of when the spell's effect ended, and her boots plopped themselves unceremoniously back onto stone. Joan continued up the curved path, ignoring a door on her left for now. Because it'd be a better idea to explore this entire chamber thoroughly, so she would not need to come back here with doubts, later on. Aye?

She continued up the path, all the way until she could continue no more. Overall she found a half-dozen additional mummies, all of them dwelling upon rockfaces. None of them harbored the ashkhan’s father's bow. “Because such would be too straightforward a venture.” … Though all of her spell-attempts were successful (there was not one fizzle!), each time she used Levitation meant just over half her mana was gone. Levitating again meant drinking a potion, so good thing she'd filched twenty of these for free from the two guilds she’d visited.

Another option was to rest, but regaining mana in this way took hours. And what was poor Missun to do during all this time?

So for now, she drank the potions. How many mummies could there be in this place? It wasn't like there were hundreds, or even dozens, inside Laterus Burial Crypt.

...Her answer came as she continued toward the top of the tall, cylindrical chamber. Three more doors she could traipse through. Let us peruse a summary, now.

Fragile Burial: This lowest additional section yielded four mummies. No Bonebiter Bow, but there were a few other magical items and trinkets placed with two of them. Joan felt the temptation to take an axe which dealt fire damage (useful against undead!) but then decided to leave it. These items had been placed to aid the dead during their afterlife journeys; looting was considered a big no-no in crypts.

Kefka Burial & Kakuna Burial: more of the same, although most of the mummies in this set of chambers had been placed closer to the ground.

Finally in Juno Burial, Joan encountered an enemy she'd never seen before: a wraith! This entity was similar to the ancestral ghosts she'd dealt with in a few of the sacred tombs she’d visited, but the wraith wielded more vigorous magic, and also possessed what seemed to be more un-health. Its presence was dark, much more menacing than the glowing ghosts she'd encountered, here in Vvardenfell and back home in the Chapel of Arkay's undercroft.

The entity moaned and seethed, casting occasional cursing-type spells. Fortunately, Joan's power of will had been increasing over many months by now. She could bear the wraith's magics upon her person without much damage to her own quality of being.

Within a minute of bashing it with her magical weapon (occasionally throwing a ball of holy flames), the spirit was banished.

And lo! Here was the Bonebiter Bow, contained within the wraith's essence. Since the menace had attacked her, Joan felt as though she was safe to loot the large pile of ectoplasm which plopped to the ground. So as it turns out, the bow was NOT located with one of the crypt's mummies; she hadn't needed to become proficient at Levitation at all!

Upon return to the camp some of the Ashlanders were still a bit miffed about the Breton who'd arrived to their home, and wasn't going away.

"I don't have a lot of patience for questions, outlander!" This was said by the first Dunmer Joan had met, the one who'd taken her egg.

"Outlander, what do you want?" a fellow asked more cordially.

All that mattered by now was the ashkhan himself, and thankfully, the ashkhan was pleased. "This is my father's Bonebiter Bow," Sul-Matuul said after Joan entered his yurt. "I hereby name you, Joan of Arkay, Clanfriend of the Ashlanders."

The ashkhan invited Joan to keep the bow, but things were not going to happen this way. Firstly, Joan was not an archer, and secondly, the weapon deserved to be with its family. After all the tribulations she’d gone through, she felt it more proper to leave the stringed weapon with Sul-Matuul himself, and would not take nay for an answer.




"And now I fulfill my other promise," he said. "Go to the wise woman's yurt, and Nibani Macsa shall examine you, to test you against the Nerevarine prophecies." Joan was about to protest against this proclamation, until the ashkhan continued.

"Now that you are a Clanfriend," he began, "I want to speak plainly. I find it hard to believe that you are the Nerevarine."

Never did I state that I am, Joan thought, but decided not to speak.

"You are an outlander, but the Nerevarine comes to drive all outlanders from Morrowind," Sul-Matuul said thoughtfully. "How could an outlander be the Incarnate?"

Joan, recent inductee of the aedric being known to the Imperials as Arkay, kept her mouth shut for a moment, trying to think of a pertinent reply, almost envious that she couldn't give one of the monosyllabic answers of her pack guar.

"Ghrr," she finally said.


-------------------------------------------

Karma Burial Mushroom Jump Area - (Reminds me of all those Mario Bros. games)

Close-up detail of a Tomb --

Joan embraces the Trickery

Approaching a Mummy

Fighting a Skellie

"You have ascended to Level 20!"

Return to Urshilaky Camp

-----------------------

Notes: It's not mentioned, but that wraith was Sul-Matuul's father. Joan chose not to mention she'd just pwned Sul's dad's spirit to the Ashkhan himself.

Also, I am noticing that in the initial chambers, all the mummies were placed off the ground. In Juno Burial (where the wraith of Sul's father was located) they were placed just above the floor. It's as if in the earlier chambers, here the Chimer, the earlier elves, had gone all-out for making their dead inaccessible. In the later chambers, those of Sul-Matuul's father, for instance, these mummies were placed without all that extra trouble.

It's a rather small archeological detail some dev at Bethesda seemed to consider. ⛏

Maybe Joan should have named her pack guar Ghrrr instead of Tetra?

I like your sword text dividers.

It is a good thing that was water below, and not lava like some caves have.

And Joanie has to forge on alone. Perhaps she has outgrown the need for such hirelings altogether?

It seems that she is taking care of business quite handily, including a wraith!

And it turned out that she had not needed Levitation after all! Well, I am sure it will come in handy, and in fact be necessary, in the future however. At least Joanie appears to have gotten over some of her stigma for Alteration magic in the process.

So success and back to a still-dubious khan. But at least he is holding up his end of the bargain, and now Joan can continue on with her actual mission.

Levitation was well-worth the expense, effort, potions and practice as a new tool in Joan's kit. And she returns the ectoslime-covered bow.

I think it was wise of Joan to hold her tongue at this point as doubts were being expressed as to her Neriveranesqueness. After all, she harbors the same doubts and likely has no interest in the title or role. Actually, Grrr was probably even a better response than silence. Her guar has taught her well!

Thanks for letting us know your plans regarding Joan and Laprima.

Yeah, it can be hard to avoid spoilers for older media, too. After a while it becomes common knowledge in the relevant communities, and you just have to roll with that. I somewhat prefer blindness, but I've still enjoyed plenty of things that I've had spoiled for me. I'm of the opinion that if spoilers can completely ruin something, it was never that good to begin with.

Ooh, creative breaks. Of the ones you showed, I like the last one the most.

Hmm, don't think Tetra was from me.

Speaking of which, I like how Joan is talking to Tetra. Sounds like they've already bonded. At least Tetra isn't stuck reciting stock phrases.

Makes sense she'd want a helmet for the ashstorms. Though I wonder if a cloth covering might be better, since fine dust could still get into a regular helmet.

I like the sword divider! The colors really bring it out.

Ha, I enjoyed the exchange she had with Missun.

Ah, if the bow were underwater, it'd be an example of why alteration can be so darn useful. But apparently she's comfortable enough that she's able to cast levitation. Good call for navigating this cave.

Ooh, I like how she's enjoying it. Sometimes there's benefit in trying something you don't think you'll like.

But I do remember how frustrating it was to find the darn thing!

Ha! Yeah, sometimes in Morrowind you can end up over-preparing. Still, even if she didn't need levitation here, it could still come in handy later. Looting from undead also seems less ethically problematic than looting from the dead-dead.

Mission accomplished. They may not be entirely happy, but she fulfilled her end of the bargain and the Ashlanders will keep theirs. Even if they're grouchy about it.

SubRosa Florens: I actually messed up the guar's name. She didn't name it Tetra, couldn't have. She would've come up with something Nine-related. That was just some hasty editing on my part, not thinking things through 100%.

Thank you. I wish I could draw more than swords and flowers (and make the drawings identifiable). Ever go to Gamefaqs? As basic as those walkthroughs and tutorials are; I'm not even sure if they allow simple JPEGs, a lot of those geeks truly know how to draw some cool computer art, but with only the basic keys on any popular keyboard. 🦸🏿‍♂️

Ha. I know you dislike hirelings, but for me it's always depended on the character. I like having them around IF my character also likes having them around (Ana Khannda always goes solo, for instance). Having an archer or a spellcaster is great because they take care of ranged combat, something Joan lacks. They can also alert to dangers sometimes before I even know they're around.

But yeah, he was pretty terrible in that cave! - And yes, she's keeping Levitation. Probably won't use it until she actually needs it. We'll see.


Acadian the Paladin: Yah, I agree. Now that she has Levitation in her book, it was worth the extra trouble getting it. I'm sure there will be other times it'll come in handy, plus it's just a cool effect to have.

Ghrr!!! See, "ghrr" is an example of some late-moment editing which did go well.

You're welcome. I already wrote some first drafts for Laprima, and boy they are good. Want to have a peak? Peek!



There we go. And it only gets more compelling from there.


TheWellTemperedClavierPlayer: Creative breaks yes. That's a good term. They're just interesting ways to split chapters into sub-chapters.

Joan speaking to Tetra = me speaking to one of our animals IRL! Sometimes animals are more fun to speak to than people.

Ahh, that's actually something we went through, about headgear. One of my past characters (not Joan, one of my Xbox characters) tried finding something in the base game which is not a helm, yet still protects one's entire face. There is a Dunmer-type helm which is completely closed-off, made of chitin or bonemold. I'm gonna get its name wrong if I try to guess.

But there are no non-helmet headwraps or hoods or burqas which fully mask the face, not that I've found, anyway. Probably there are through mods of course, but I haven't found anything suitable yet. Surely that overhaul we discussed has something I bet, but I'm not ready for overhauls that grand.

Aye, writing up responses to pure pre-written dialog, that's the Renee style!

Regarding Joan's view on "trickery" magics: I've had some more insights here. Okay, she's trying to be set in her ways, but is open to using them if she's got no other choice. But there are some types of magic she will never use. She will never summon, for instance, since all of those magics involve yucky undead or Daedric gear, and so on.

But overall, It's the classic warrior not fully trusting magic, which is also found in a lot of other classic Medieval-type stories. She uses some outer and inner forces for sure, but is often cautious / distrustful of new avenues to explore. Healing is something she's always been interested in; such magic is mostly, only "Good". Same with light spells. She likes bringing light into darkened areas.


All: Graci for your support. This next chapter has a lot of concepts and dialog, and could've become quite wordy if I hadn't edited it down a few days ago. I've tried to make it fun to read. We'll see.

Chapter LI: Plight of the Clanfriend

18 Second Seed (Day 246) 3E 428





"The Great Houses stole our land and mocked us with false gods. The Nerevarine is the last hope the Ashlanders have. I will let no outlander steal this hope from us."

Joan of Arkay, standing now inside the yurt of Nibani Maesa, listened to the words of Urshilaku’s wise woman. As always, Joan tried to glean whatever information she could with her typically attentive ear. Speaking not out of turn, actually not speaking yet, at all. Joan had spent the night in the camp’s trader’s yurt. Now that she was indeed being possibly considered as an accessory to their way of life, she could finally sleep amongst them without worrying about being an outsider, as well as an outlander.

But this didn’t mean she’d no longer need to succumb to their thinly-veiled insults and tirades.

"So. They've told me of you, outlander," the wise woman said stiffly, perhaps hoping for some reaction from the Breton: shaking fear or nervous insecurity or some such. "Or, shall I say... Clanfriend."

Joan said nothing; her mind reverting instead to the rather studious, analytical self she’d been just under a year ago; living in Cheydinhal, preparing for a future filled with promise. A future which was somewhat unsure, but would certainly involve joining Cyrodiil’s military, or the exploration of its many tombs and ruins. The student, the scholar, the acolyte.

Although she was unsure about whatever was to come here in Morrowind, at the moment she’s thinking that she will indeed have something to do with the future state of Tamriel's westernmost province… Nerevarine or not. Still, she chose not to reveal her thoughts.

"You are hard-headed," Nibani tried, her face scrunched with disgust. "And ignorant. But perhaps it is not your fault. My lord ashkhan says you will ask me about the Nerevarine prophecies," the elf said with obvious reluctance. "So, I must now test you against the prophecies...."

Nibani Maesa explained that there are many types of prophecies, and then began to list several of them. This list of predictions quickly became daunting and dizzying to Joan, who wished the wise woman would slow her words so she could take some notes. "Ask me of these things," Nibani said. "If you are patient, if you would be wise. Or, if you are impatient to know, just ask: 'Do I pass the test of the Nerevarine prophecies?' Go ahead, outlander," she taunted, not too much unlike a lot of the outlaws who taunted travellers along the roads of Vvardenfell. "I am Urshilaku’s wise woman. Ask your questions, and I will answer."

Joan, being a patient, diligent sort, chose the first option. But first, a request. "Ehm, might I firstly have the opportunity to ready my quill and journal to scribe whatever coming words you have to say, muthsera?"

The wise woman allowed this, and then began describing all of the complexities the prophecies (the signs to come) described throughout portions of Dunmer history. Although Joan was not choosing to state herself to be the Nerevarine, the facts were as follows.

1). Joan Marie had been born of uncertain parents, fulfilling the first prophecy to a tee. She'd been raised in an orphanage, fostered by the Temple of Arkay in Cheydinhal. Therefore, she fit the wise woman’s first listed prophecy, there could be no question about this.

2). The Nerevarine was said to have a birthmark in the shape of a moon, and a star. Joan did not have this birthmark, not that she chose to reveal this to the wise woman just then. Hmm.

3). Mad cultists known as 'sleepers' had been attacking people throughout Vvardenfell, the wise woman informed, which was one of the signs of the Nerevarine's return. Though sights of these sleepers had been confirmed, this in and of itself did not foretell Joan should be definitely considered the prophet.

4). The Prophecy of the Seven Curses was next on the wise woman's list. Nibani herself was not so knowledgeable about such things however, and could not confirm either way whether Joan could be categorized under this sign.

5). Next came the prophecy of "The Stranger”. Here, the words spoken by the wise woman became poetic; she spoke of things Joan could not fully understand, probably Nibani was deliberately making things harder to comprehend than need be. But it was clear that the Stranger had indeed returned, whoever he or she (or it?) could be.

Regarding that final sign: the Crusader from Cyrodiil thought of all the times strange Dunmer had approached her on the streets of Balmora, or in the plazas of Vivec. These folks would badger into her personal space, expelling a series of garbled words about the Red Mountain, Dagoth Ur, strange dreams and other such topics; words which made no sense to the crusader. These folks certainly were strangers. Otherwise they were harmless, and Joan had fallen into the habit of mostly ignoring them. Could these folks be the 'strangers' predicted to return by the signs Nibani was referring to?

“However, this is the best known of the prophecies," Nibani Maesa told the Breton, suddenly and obviously becoming more enthusiastic, as though the woman before her, as an outlander, was no longer an issue. For the moment, at least. "Many trials make manifest the Stranger's fate, the curses' bane. Many touchstones try the Stranger. Many fall, but one remains."

"I see," Joan replied, not really seeing at all as she scribbled her notes. Perhaps the sage woman’s poetic drawl would make more sense as time went by.

Finally, the question everyone: Caius Cosades, a numerous list of Dunmer, perhaps even Emperor Septim himself, had been waiting for: 'Do I pass the test of the Nerevarine prophecies?'

Nibani stated: "You are not the Nerevarine," causing Joan a measure of great relief. "You are one who may become the Nerevarine,” she continued. “It is a puzzle, and a hard one...." She informed Joan that she had, however, found some of the pieces of this puzzle. And then she gave Joan a couple of tomes to study, The Seven Visions and The Stranger, and requested that Joan find the Lost Prophecies, a third tome which she stated should be found amongst a faction known as the Dissident Priests of the Temple.

As it turns out, Joan had already joined the Dunmers' Temple some time ago. Not to learn of any mysteries or prophecies, but solely so she could have additional places to rest! - But Nibani would not say whether or not the Temple had anything to do with these priests. Chances are, it did not.

"I have told you all I know. Go. Think about these things," the woman said. "And do what must be done."

Head reeling, Joan had no idea what the next step should be. Perhaps she should return to Caius, to get his opinions on all these assorted matters. Certainly wouldn't hurt to do so.

Before leaving Nibani's yurt, the Breton made sure to purchase some of the food the woman offered for sale upon nearby shelves. But don't suss those shelves too hard. No sweetrolls were to be found here, Joan of Arkay.

So Joan finally gets to the point of actually performing her mission, talking to the wise woman and getting the skinny on this Neveraine business.

Nibani seems very insecure and protective of the Nerevarine and the prophecies thereof. This is theirs, it belongs to the Ashlanders, not to outsiders like Joan. Not surprising, given how they have been treated by House Dunmer and I am sure the Empire. They have been driven to the very edges of existence, in the harshest place there is, by outsiders taking things from them. It must be a hard thing for her to share this with Joan.

Phew, that is a relief. Joan is not the promised Messiah. She can just continue on to be a normal person, without the weight of prophecy hanging around her shoulders.

No sweetrolls? Barbarians!

Not the Never Rain but one who may become so? What on Nirn does that even mean? And why would she want to help fulfill a prophecy for a bunch of ash holes like these? I’d be tempted to return to Cheydinhal and seek quests from those who welcome and appreciate my assistance. I am not Joan though. I expect she may indeed see what Caius has to say about all this.

Oh boy, here we go. The dissident priests, a faction that can set your mind a reeling. I look forward to reading Joan's reaction to the Dissident Priests.

Hmm, that headgear wasn't a chitin helm by any chance, was it? While it's still a helmet, it kind of looks like a wrapping (sort of).

https://en.uesp.net/wiki/File:MW-item-Chiti...rmor_Female.jpg

Joan's distrust of conjuration definitely makes sense. Daedra are usually bad news, so bringing more of them into the world would strike her as suspicious.

Noticed a typo here: Joan refers to being part of the future of Tamriel's westernmost province. I think you mean easternmost?

No kidding about all this stuff being daunting and dizzying! Morrowind doesn't hold your hand very much, and that makes it tricky to navigate these things. The way you broke things down into bullet points definitely helped.

Heh, I love Joan's relief at not being the Nerevarine. Except it's never so easy here; she still might be the Nerevarine. Because nothing's certain in this province.

Joan joining the Temple just to have a place to sleep makes me wonder how many folks join factions for that exact reason. Like faction leaders roll their eyes, because they know some percentage just wants the amenities.

Going back to Caius sounds wise.

Morning.

I agree, SubRosa. Nibani is extremely territorial. And the fact that the Dunmer who still revere Lord Nerevar do so even after being pushed to nearly the harshest place in the province, Nibani must be wondering 'who the heck is this outlander, barging into our village and asking all these questions?'

Thing is, all this dialog is text-based, so (to me) a lot of it comes across like something written in a book. The emotion behind those words occurs mostly in our heads. So I tried to put some emotion and emphasis into the story; Nibani scrunching her face in an accusatory manner, and so on.



I wonder what it'd be like to RP somebody who claims to be the Nerevarine.

As far as I can tell, the only way to get sweetrolls into TES: III is to install an overhaul mod! 🍥 Our very own Clavier has been working on (or worked on) on a huge overhaul which introduces all sorts of stuff into the game. Problem is, it's one of those projects which makes huge amounts of changes, GOOD changes, but changes which would at least partially alter the the somewhat sparse and alien world I enjoy so much. So for now, no sweetrolls for Joanie.

Gosh darn it's early. Is the coffee ready? ☕


Acadian: I know, right? And believe me, Chapter LI just happened to be the CONDENSED version, meaning there could've been even more abstract language like that.

Like Joan, I assume it'll make some sense as events unfold, but then part of me thinks it's just Ken Rolston (pretty sure it was Ken who wrote a lot of the story) trying to be bizarre.


Me too, macole, looking forward to whatever is to come. According to the way you've phrased your comment, the Dissident Priests are going to be quite something to fear? Or be aware of? Hmm.


Yes, yes, that's the helm I'm thinking of, Clavier. It's shaped like a golden teardrop. I think Joan may've bought one of those at some point. If so, she lost or left it somewhere.

Ha ha ha YES you caught my mistake! I meant to say easternmost, oops! ... I saw that well after the story got posted, but by then it was like "eh". Pretty sure I'm dyslexic. I'm occasionally catching "left" when I meant to write "right", and then correcting these mistakes during editing, and so on.

The bullet points was a good idea. First draft, all of that was one huge wall o' text, more or less. I tried to make it at least more presentable.

I have one of those realism mods in my game, so usually when one of mine joins some faction or guild and then never does any of their quests, that Needs mod is the reason. Even so, one must be careful. I've had to rush into the CS more than once after my guy or gal tries to get some sleep, and is suddenly kicked out of the guild because "that bed belongs to someone else". Yeah.... like NPCs in Morrowind ever actually sleep.

Joan is also part of Mages Guild, even though she never does any of their quests. She never uses their beds; in this case she mostly joined so she could raid their chests for free Magicka potions.



So let's go there now, what do ya say?

Chapter LII - Return to Caius

22 Second Seed (Day 280)

Location: Balmora


Ah, the joys of owning a member of livestock. Now that Tetra the pack guar was carrying many of her possessions (which meant encumbrance was no longer as much an issue), Joan practically raided Balmora’s Bookseller, located kitty-corner across from the town's Imperial guilds. Upon entry, Joan noted the bookstore was permeated by the typical aromas encountered in bookstores all over: fresh parchments of linen, vellum, and animal skins; sour pulps, and the assorted mixtures of glues and binding materials which were used to sort those publications together.

"Outlander. What do you want?" asked Dorisa Davel, the Bookseller’s owner/merchant-on-duty.

Well let's start with our ABCs, as in ABCs for Barbarians. This was one of the first books which captured Joan’s mind as a child, partially because it contained illustrations to go along with its words. So for nostalgic purposes, here she was spending coin on the same picture-book as a young adult. Apparently, some parents and guardians hadn’t wanted their youngsters gazing into such a book back in the day. ABCs was said to promote ‘vigilantism’ and ‘roguish desires’ into such young readers, according to some of the rumors she'd heard back home at some point. A good many raisers of children, who would rather their kids grow up to be farmers or shopkeepers or artisans, certainly seemed to agree.

Luckily for Joan, she’d been fostered by schoolmarms and members of clergy who either hadn’t cared for such criticisms, were unaware of them, or let it slip by that the quiet orphan in their care spent hours gazing at the silly drawings which went along with the cute little quips found in ABCs. Otherwise, the Crusader from Cyrodiil perusing now within Balmora for reading material might’ve found herself tending sheep, or sweeping a shop at her current age of 19.

"That’s a good deal."

Joan passed on Aedra and Daedra. Because here was a book she'd read (several times) in her past; Joan could virtually recite some of its words by rote. She was sure she had a copy of this piece of literature somewhere here in Vvardenfell. Likewise for the Brief History of the Empire tomes. She'd been required to pore and study the entire series while schooling. Lives of the Saints? The same.

The Barenziah editions? - Trifling rubbish! - The story Queen Barenziah had always been popular sellers amongst the peoples of Cyrodiil, and were apparently just as common here in Vvardenfell. And though there was plenty of historical merit to the series, Joan of Arkay passed.

The Lusty Argonian Maid? Bleagh!!!

She decided to try something she hadn't read before, something new. The Arcturian Heresy, written by an anonymous author some time during the reign of Tiber Septim, drew her attention. The book cost just twenty-five drakes, so it wouldn't wreck her current budget of four-hundred plus.

“Another satisfied customer.”

There. Now she had something to read while waiting for an opportune moment to visit Caius Cosades.

"I shall return," Joan said to Dorisa. "May the Gods bring fortune upon this studious sanctuary of commerce," she complimented.

"That's so kind of you to say."

Joan spent the rest of the afternoon like many other townies: peddling and trading. After selling a variety of gems, trinkets, and the unneeded potions she’d looted from the variety of bandits who’d tried to take her down, Joan left Dralasa Nithryon's trading shop with a hefty profit of 300 much-needed drakes.

She then made a trip to Eight Plates for a meal of matze and crabmeat. Here the Breton was hoping to find Aradirr the Oracle so she could relay some of the occurances since the woman's card reading, but the seer was not to be found on this day.

"Where's that slave?" asked a lady wearing tan robes as Joan finished her meal. "Here not long ago."

The crusader left Eight Plates with her belly full, and a light buzz of slight inebriation, caused by the alcoholic drink she imbibed. Though she’d never fall into the habit of ‘drunken delving’ like so many other adventuring types, she saw no harm in sipping such drinks along with her off-day meals.





"I have a message," said the Dunmer. "I am a Sleeper, one among thousands. I bring you a message," he repeated, unnecessarily.

Joan said nothing, stood and stared. Because here she was once again, being approached by yet another aqua-skinned youngster right in the middle of the street. Minding her own, which the scrappy elf who'd badgered her space chose to ignore. Another mysterious agent, spewing yet another set of words which made little sense.

"Dagoth Ur calls you, Joan of Arkay,” he said harshly, “and you cannot deny your Lord. The Sixth House is risen, and Dagoth is its glory."

That sudden feeling of wariness which always occurred whenever one of these agents showed up came over her once again. Otherwise Joan had nothing to say to the elf, who suddenly stalked away as though he had somewhere more important to suddenly be.

Sigh.




One hour later
She had planned to read her new book, but found herself exhausted after this town-maneuvering day.

After a brief nap in what was being considered as Joan's closest place to a home: the Balmora Guild of Fighters, she was ready to go. It was midnight now, or close to it. She changed into an unassuming set of clothes. Strode her way across town wearing her new cotton blue shirt & skirt combination; a particularly handsome outfit she had discovered (looted) from the pack of one of the female rogues who’d tried to kill her along the road.

As always, she was barefoot.

"Are you here to discuss your orders?" Caius asked somberly upon meeting his charge yet again.

"Let us do so. We have many tidbits and factors to discuss."





Caius's place was typically, slightly untidy: a few coins here and there, an empty bottle which'd been abandoned on the man's dining table, a copy of Chance's Folly which had fallen under his bed, and so on. As the Blademaster and the Crusader from Cyrodiil engaged in what equated to the Tamriellic version of small talk, Joan couldn't help but notice something else: a brand-new, gleaming weapon lying obviously upon the table, right next to a small, half-necrotic plant which looked as though it hadn't seen proper sunlight in a while. The weapon was a mace made of bronze. Instantly curious, Joan could see right away it possessed some sort of magic. Her eyes, virtually lit with intent.

She was about to make mention of the weapon, so obvious and potent and simply there, but thought it'd be rude to do so at this very moment.

Instead, she relayed as much as she could over the next two hours or so: her experiences with Sul-Matuul and Nibani Maesa, and all the other, less-newsworthy dwellers of Urshilaku. She explained that she'd felt trite, embarrassed, and foolish, coming up with the numerous reasons why she had gone to the middle of nowhere, in the middle of no time, to speak with the camp's far-off inhabitants.

"But as it was, in the end I was able to suss some answers they divulged, concerning the mysteries of the Nerevarine Cult, the Sixth House, and other assorted matters."

"That's just incredible!" Caius was virtually beside himself. "It sounds like you could really be the Nerevarine,” he clapped his hands. “But… I'll just have to get used to the idea, eh? Seems as though your quest has seen much success."

Joan grimaced. Fought the urge to shake her head, and palm her face. Cannot he see how temeritous this whole campaign of pretending has become? Still, Joan was partially curious, and eager to see where all of this Nerevarine nonsense was leading.

Speaking of. Caius then outlaid what would be to come, cautioning that his next idea would be admittedly difficult. "I have a very tough assignment for you, Joan of Arkay" he said. "Do you think you are ready?"

The Breton nodded slowly.

"Good. Cautious is smart."

Caius then told her how one of the sergeants of Fort Buckmoth had sent a patrol to the Bitter Coast village of Gnaar Mok. This patrol of Legions had gone there to hunt smugglers who just happened to be associated with the Sixth House cult.

He handed her a pouchful of coin, “four-hundred drakes,” he promised. "Go to Fort Buckmoth. Speak to Champion Raesa Pullia, she'll tell you about the patrol and the Sixth House base. Your orders: find the Sixth House shrine near Gnaar Mok, kill Dagoth Gares, and bring me a full report on what you find." As usual, he issued these commands rather casually. As though such things could as easily be done as the day of shopping she’d just committed all across town.

"I'll be off to Ald-ruhn then," Joan replied, the pit of her tummy feeling wry while her spine got that familiar tingling sensation. “Need to head back north anyway.”

“Oh, one more thing…got a little present for you which might come in handy,” Caius said, pointing to his all-purpose table, pointing to the very object of desire Joan had forgotten about as she'd told the tales of happenings up north.






“It deals damage of fire!” he said with more enthusiasm than he’d used while telling her to locate some far-off shrine, so she could (somehow) eradicate a band of far-off smugglers. “Which might become handy while bashing against some skeletons, ghosts, and bonelords, eh?”

“Oh Caius, you shouldn’t have!” Joan enthused like a kid in a toffee shop. “Why, why… I cannot wait to find myself plunging within ancestral lairs, so I might wield this new blugeoner of mine! Such a thoughtful gift, milord!”

"Heh, look out monsters of Vvardenfell,” the Blades’ Champion smiled. “And now… where did I put that?"

Joan made her way back to the Guild of Fighters as though walking on air. New quest, new books, new weapon? She found herself planning to spend the rest of the night reading her new book, The Arcturian Heresy.

But the moment passed. Turns out, it was already daylight by the time she emerged from the Cosades hovel. There seemed to be a bit more urgency to head off to Buckmoth than there'd been to locate the Bonebiter bow, which meant she didn't have enough time to peruse any pages before she was equipped and suited up again, headed back to Ald'ruhn.

Eager for at least some sort of inspirational words before journeying off, she settled for a couple pages of ABCs for Barbarians instead.


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Ash storm! (ugh)

Her dashing blue outfit

Paper Doll'd

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Notes: ABCs for Barbarians, as found in the game, only has three pages: one for A, one for B, one for C! So I’m RP’ing this book covers all the alphabet. D is for Daedra, E is for Eradication, and so on.

Joan’s new Mace of Fire is something I added into her game via the CS, so she now has a way to deal more damage to undead. The base game gives us the Snowy Crown, which she currently has (a frost-bashing weapon) but no fiery equivalent. It’s something I noticed during her fights in Urshilaku Crypts: no additional magical damage were dealt to all those underground dwellers.

So Joan knows her ABCs. Uh oh, it was promoting a woke liberal agenda that was going to turn all the kids into Khajiit.

I love her thought process as she rejects book after book, until she finds one that intrigues her in the right way.

Another sleeper has awoken. It seems Joan's fame has spread beyond Caius and the Ashlanders... Dagoth is getting his Ur on.

Off Dagoth hunting I see. I liked how the developers decided to tie what would otherwise be ordinary smugglers into the Sixth House, by having the latter employ the smugglers to do... what they do. Only this time smuggling their idols and other paraphernalia.

Joanie has a new basher! Fire will definitely come in handy against undead. But the downside is that Dunmer have a resistance to fire. So it won't be as useful against the most populous race in Morrowind.

Joan’s in Balmora! Say hi to Daria and company. Can she get one of those Lighthouse Libraries like Silverlight has to carry her literaries? Oops, not necessary – forgot about Tetra.

Crab and matze for dinner. I hope that’s real crabmeat and not the fake stuff made from Balmora bugs. Yeah, avoiding drunken delving is always wise.

Ah, the barefoot Joan and barechested Caius. It’d be interesting if they traded outfits, yes?

And she emerges with a new quest and magic bludgeoner! Sixth House Cult. . . didn’t that silly sleeper say something about the Sixth House?

For all his faults Caius is an upright man.

How much fire damage does the mace do?

Baseless selfplug: in my mod Gwylsre Fay Artifact - Black Moomba – The God Killer, I found an enchantment of absorb health, absorb willpower, and absorb fatigue to be VERY useful.

Quick note: the mod I worked on doesn't actually affect anything on Vvardenfell's landmass, so everything in the base game and expansions should look the same. TR only deals with Morrowind's mainland. There is a mod called Heart of the Velothi which [/i]does affect Vvardenfell, but that's a separate mod from TR (though it shares some assets).

Ooh, I like the description of the bookstore's smell. Something about that scent is simultaneously soothing and exciting. And it's cute she's taking the nostalgia route with ABC's for Barbarians.

I like how you explain which books she's familiar with. The kinds of books a person's read, and what they think about the books, does reveal a bit about personality.

I'd say Joan's definitely earned that booze. And that was a creepy encounter with the Sleeper. I guess it is time for them to make their appearance.

Nice buildup for Caius's house. Can't imagine the guy would take very good care of houseplants, so that fits. Wonder what the new weapon's for.

Ah, that's what it's for! I'd forgotten that bit. Certainly will be handy for what Joan will encounter next. She's getting in deep to the darkest aspects of Morrowind.

Oh, I see! You modded the weapon in. Very clever!

Very good point about the books, Rosa. It's like she had some money, but not a LOT of money, so she had to narrow her choice down.

She's going to have to choose which mace to use. If the place is populated with dark elves, go with the frost. If there's undead in there, go with the fire. Hmm. She might as well get a third mace for Daedra (maybe shock).


That'd be a rad thing to have as a mod, right? A "cabinet of holding" instead of a "bag of holding".

The crabmeat in Vvardenfell is real, thank the gods. They've got mudcrabs in TES III. 🦀


macole: The mace does.. : 3-17 Chop, 3-17 Slash, and 1-2 Thrust. But on top of that there are 1 to 25 points of Fire damage. And the Snowy Crown does the same exact damage except it's frost-based. ❄ Either way, a very potent weapon. Joan is "cheating" a bit, relying on magic more than she'd like. Put yourself in her boots, though. If you've got two giant kagouti running towards you, and a bandit slinging arrows on the side, what would you want to have protecting?

I tried looking up Gwylsre Fay Artifact - Black Moomba at NEXUS (and then Bing) but nothing came up. Wait, are you joking? You're joking.


Yeah, Joan is VERY particular about books (go figure, right Clavier?) and so we get to get a quick glimpse of my Lawful Good Super-Duper Paladin in action ... as she shops for books.

I picture Caius as a guy who's seen better days, but now he's sliding. But it's also okay that he's sliding. It's all part of his cover-up, right?

Yep, a very rare Renee mod for Morrowind. Only because Joan really really needed a Bashmeisster like her Mace of Flames.

Uh oh, do you hear that? Outlander, what do you want?

Chapter LIII - From Fort Buckmoth to Gnaar Mok

23 Second Seed (Day 281) 3rd Era, Year 428

Location: Buckmoth Legion Fort


"I don't think we've been introduced, outlander. I am Olquar, Fort Buckmoth’s resident enchanter. How can I help you?"

Joan looked quizzically at the lady-elf before her: an Altmer, not a Dunmer. Had Olquar the Enchanter grown up here in Vvardenfell? - According to the elf’s delicate accent, Joan didn’t think so. Otherwise, Olquar wouldn’t be running her enchanting business here in an Imperial establishment, would she? … She’d be offering services somewhere in Balmora perhaps, or Molag Mar; somewhere within obvious Dunmer territory. So was it proper for a non-native (an outlander herself!) to now be referring to Joan as an outlander?

She fought the urge to question. Not why she was here. "I am Joan Marie, of the Temple of Arkay in Cyrodiil. I have arrived to consult your Champion, Raesa Pullia? I have heard Raesa should be at residence, here in Fort Buckmoth."

"If you want to talk to an enchanter about enchanting," Olquar said, stroking her fine green-colored robe, "try Galar Rothan at the Telvanni Council House. He's not a stiff shirt like a lot of Telvanni wizards, and he knows his stuff."

"Right. Guess I'll have a suss around, then." Humility, such a virtue. "May the Gods bless thy day nonetheless, and all of thine days, forthwith."

"Goodness. No one's told me that in so long!"

Joan looked around the fort's interior a bit doubtfully. Buckmoth was a semi-large one, and she had never been here before. Finding the fort itself was not so easy; due to the dust storms which frequently invaded the Ashlands (go figure…), whatever actual road led to the fort had long been buried, so just locating Buckmoth’s entrance had taken some time. Hopefully, she wouldn't need to stride through a maze of rooms, corridors, and alcoves looking for the champion.

Fortunately, Raesa Pullia was found not long thereafter, right here in Buckmoth's lobby. "You're out of uniform," the champion said bluntly, her brows knitted. "Talk to me when you're serious."

Rules, and regulations.

"I see," the Cheydinhalian replied, awkwardly trying to save face. "I shall return then." …If I ever attain any sort of rank within this organization, thought she, especially an officer’s rank, suiting up into Imperial mail before one legionnaire may even consult with another is a rule I’ll aim to do away with!

She walked outside to the haypile, where her guar was nestled for the night. Tried not to pout while gathering up the Imperial-styled cuirass which'd been laid along with the rest of her Nirnly possessions. Spent the next few minutes buckling and fastening the fort’s ‘required’ chest and torso-gear upon her upper half.

"There. Shall have to do," she spoke aloud, a bit flummoxed. She had just removed all the other pieces of armor before going into the fort; there was no way she was going to suit back into the rest.


Even though the sky was fully dark outside by now, Buckmoth was a hive of activity--knights and pages and monks zipping all around the stronghold’s interior. Something was definitely amiss. But Raesa hadn't budged. She’d remained standing in the same spot, allowing the newcomer a fair allotment of time. Which was a plus, in the crusader’s mind.

"You seem like very good company," greeted Raesa upon Joan's re-arrival, much pleased that the Breton before her was now being ‘serious’. “Welcome.”

"Many thanks." To the task at hand. "I am Joan, of the Chapel of Arkay in Cyrodiil, and I have traveled here from Balmora to speak upon the subject of a band of smugglers who've been reported as inhabiting some nefarious location, somewhere along the Bitter Coast."

The fort's champion relayed the bad news. Apparently, only one of the several troopers who'd gone to Gnaar Mok, to investigate rumors of smuggling, had returned. All the others had perished, according to the lone survivor. And, this poor survivor's body had been disfigured by corprus by the time he’d made it back to Buckmoth, which (in a way) was a small blessing. Because most adversaries, bandits and smugglers and monsters alike, were most-likely not interested in ambushing a carrier of the corprus disease, lest they become infected themselves.

"By the Gods!" Joan shrieked, truly angered.

"In his ravings," Raesa said, "he spoke of a cavern on the coast, which he called 'Ilunibi'. It's not on our maps," she added. "Try asking locals in Gnaar Mok about such a place."

Raesa Pullia went on to say that a 'half-man' creature named Dagoth Gares was responsible for the slaying of Buckmoth's troops. She then unrolled a scroll so she could explain the rest. Smartly and craftily, Dagoth Gares had allowed the final soldier he hadn't killed to return to the fort, solely so the half-disfigured man’s horrible message could be told.

"'The Sleeper Awakes'," the champion consulted notes on the scroll in her hands. "And 'The Sixth House has risen', and 'Dagoth Ur is our Lord, and I am his priest'," Raesa stated with a nervous swallow. "Finally, our poor trooper said one final message from Dagoth Gares, which is 'All will be One with Him in the Flesh'. These are the things our fallen soldier was able to divulge."

"I see," Joan said, the blood within her veins and arteries boiling, all of the mishaps which occurred during her awkward introduction into Buckmoth... forgotten. "Sounds rather like the same drivel of hodgepodge a variety of sleepers have occasionally burdened my ears, as I’ve lapsed about Vvardenfell."

For the moment however, there was nothing to do. Seemed as though everything which had occurred was already done and over; there was nothing Joan could further accomplish. The soldiers had fallen, which meant the time-table to solve this current quest was, for the time being, not so immediate. Wasn’t like Dagoth Gares was going ‘round roaming about; seemed as though he’d still be dwelling within Ilunibi, wherever that may be. So… time for some well-deserved rest.

She'd been on the road for close to twelve hours before arriving. So she'd spend the rest of the night sleeping in one of Buckmoth’s bunks, and would prepare for her journey during the following morn.






24 Second Seed, late afternoon
The Dunmer she’d befriended up north, Missun Akin, had decided he didn’t want to follow Joan as she continued south to Balmora a week ago, which was fine with her. Missun was one of those folks whose livelihood had long been settled. He was ‘dug in’, as the saying goes, destined to stay within what he knew during his day-to-day. Probably he’d feel out of place in the regions of Hlaalu, his Ashlander ways obvious and unsettling (perhaps) to the cultured townfolk down south.

Before leaving Buckmoth, Joan decided to recruit another Imperial soldier.







"I bet you couldn't throw a stone around here without hitting a smuggler," he said once they arrived in Gnaar Mok.

"So I have heard," Joan Marie replied.

"'Smuggler's Coast' is what they call this stretch of coast from Seyda Neen north to West Gash," he intoned. "Now, no one HERE would think of trying to cheat the Emperor of his taxes," the man joked. "No, we're loyal citizens."

Confused, the Breton made no reply. - Was that quip a measure of sarcasm? - The soldier was a last-moment decision. Over the past few months her capability as a warrior had grown exponentially; she didn't really need to have him along as she traveled the roads from Ald'ruhn to Gnaar Mok. But the man might come in handy once they were in whatever smuggler’s hideout they'd be pointed toward. Seemed like often, there was at least one enemy in some of these caves and hideouts whose skills with magic or weaponry went beyond the crusader’s, and she’d be forced to flee.

For now, her main concern was finding a place to rest. Hopefully Gnaar Mok had some sort of an inn, or even a hostel, or (at the very least) an outdoor set of bedrolls for travelers to sleep upon.

"Quickly outlander," a Gnaar Mok ordinator greeted, his voice muffled beneath the full-faced, golden helmet he wore. "I haven't much time."

Joan Marie identified herself, explained she had traveled to the region in order to learn about any nearby smuggler hideouts, and then asked about possible places to stay.

"Ilunibi Caverns," the ordinator said with an ominous tone. "That's what they call the old sea cave up on the north end of the island, right off of Khartag Point. Don't be poking your nose in there, someone might object."

Ah. Perhaps it was the fact that Joan'd entered the village without wearing her armor; the guard was (perhaps) thinking the plainly-dressed woman before him was just some innocent traveller!

On the subject of places to stay he had no advice. Gnaar Mok was a simple fishing village, not exactly one of the spokes of travel destinations, after all.

But then Joan discovered that Caryarel's shack had been abandoned. Caryarel was the high elf who'd (several months ago) stolen that silver platter from the Imperial Cult headquarters in Ebonheart, although he denied doing so at the time. According to the locals, after Joan’d caught him in his lie the elf had vanished, apparently too embarrassed to stay in the village. Which was a nice bit of information, in her opinion. Served the man right for committing his crime, even if this crime was a misdemeanor, he could’ve turned it all around had he properly confessed.






So she spent the night in the elf’s tiny shack, lying in his former hammock. She listened to the sounds of the locals as they returned from sea, hefting whatever catches they’d hauled from its salty fathoms. Her dreams were full of half-rendered, monstrous images: shapes and sounds and shadows.


---------------------------------

Raesa Pullia (notice how severe she looks)

Raesa looks more sour than a jar full of pickle juice.

It seems everyone is an Outlander in Morrowind. Maybe the real Outlanders are the friends we made along the way?

Got to dress for success Joan! Quinn at the Fashion Club could have told her that!

Uh oh, Ilunibi. That is a name I remember. Time to cue up the ominous music. Here we go...

So Joan is back on the road again, bound for destiny at Ilunibi.

Do outlanders call other outlanders outlander? An interesting question.

The first impression of Raesa Pullia is certainly not encouraging; however, she does redeem herself a bit with information once Joan puts some of her armor back on. Joan’s pack guar continues to prove very handy.

Armed with a vague destination, a new rent-a-Legionnaire, and a night of sleep, Joan sets off to find Ilunibi.

Happily, Gnaar Mok provides more information to help find her destination and even a convenient place to spend the night.

@SubRosa: Sure, that's one way to look at it. We're all Outlanders in a way, similar to how in the United States, most of us have family lineages which began as non-native. We all began as immigrants at some point. Immigrant, what do you want? the Apache and Cherokees once said. I don't have time for you, immigrant. Move along.

Ha ha that music sounds like it'd be perfect for Mass Effect. 🚀


@Acadian: Morrowind is the last Bethesda RPG which mostly had a bunch of text-based dialog. Only the Hellos ("If you wish to talk, it's really no trouble at all") and combat dialog is voiced. Despite this, you'd be surprised at how much of the text-dialog is copy-paste, and I mean literally copy-paste. For all the complaints we heard about how "dumbed-down" Oblivion is, if you click on one NPC's Rumors in OB they're going to have something unique to say from all the others. If you click on another NPC's Imperial City topic, he or she's going to have something custom-tailored to his or her daily life, which no other person says.

Well with MW, literally if you click on Raesa Pullia or Ald'Ruhn or Imperial Legion any other topic, 90% of the time the response from that NPC is shared with 90% of other NPCs. So I think it's possible the 'Outlander' response from that enchanter is just one of these shared responses. Still. From Joan's perspective she's going to question this.

Rent-a-Legionnaire! And just you wait and see what happens to this guy!


Lopov: No Lopov.

Chapter LIV -- Ilunibi Caverns

27 Second Seed (Day 285), early afternoon


Joan arrived at what she inferred to be Point Khartag, the southernmost area of the mainland north of Gnaar Mok. The air was calm, the sun was shining, the sea was pleasant. But where was Ilunibi? There weren’t any caves, nor any of the usual signs of a ‘hideout’ located nearby. No boats moored to the shore, no empty bottles, no leftover meals half-eaten in front of an obvious doorway, and so on. So she began peering to the south, where she thought she could see the outline of trees, maybe upon an island.

“Hmm…”

Thing is, none of the locals of Gnaar Mok mentioned an island. They’d only said that Ilunibi is somewhere to the north, never describing the exact spot where the cove is situated.

It was just when Joan was reaching into her satchel so she could consult her notes when the guard she’d recruited (whose name, she’d learned the day before, was Mario Luigi) suddenly readied his crossbow. “I’ve trifled with you long enough!” he shouted, causing Joan to ready her own weapon... who? ... where? - Mario then pointed his bow toward the waves, fired a bolt, and leapt fully into the water!

“Mario!!!”

The soldier, for whatever reason, had decided to engage combat with an undersea creature, probably a kraken, maybe even a lowly slaughterfish; Joan could not fully see what was happening down there. Glumly, she was forced to dawdle on land, while the rest of the melee unfolded. Nothing she could do. Her task today was to figure out what was going on with the smugglers of Ilunibi, not waste time while fighting submerged.

“Pick thy battles," she mumbled. "‘Twas one of the first rules… perhaps the very PRIMARY of rules we learn before involving ourselves into brawls,” Joan said exasperatedly to her guar, unbelieving what she was currently seeing. “Pick thine battles.” She shook her head. “To best suit ourselves for survival we must pick them, Tetra! Because not all opponents can be defeated! – Was Sir Luigi not taught the same sort of measures I was in regards to combat? Was he asleep during his training classes? Or not spending full attention toward his instructors?”

“Ghurr.”

The gist of it? After a minute or so, the man hadn’t surfaced. And whatever he’d been fighting was probably now trying to devour its waterlogged, fully-armored meal, for too much time had passed. Joan knew from her own experiences with learning to swim that she could hold her breath for not even a minute, and that was while unarmored, and unencumbered. Which meant: the soldier she'd recruited had surely drowned by then.

The Crusader from Cyrodiil sighed. Gestured into the air while muttering a set of quiet words, in the hopes that Sir Mario Luigi would be faithfully guided toward whatever afterlife he now found himself fuddling in. Was all she could do, really. Not all battles are meant to be won.

The moment passed. Her companion was gone, but she was still here. Time to move on. Time to arrange her thoughts, and figure out what was to happen next.

After exploring the isthmus a bit more, she surmised that Ilunibi Cave must be located on whatever she’d barely glimpsed; the distant shape to the south she thought she was seeing. Because it surely was not on the patch of land she and Tetra currently strode upon. Normally, getting to this island (if that’s indeed what was in the distance) would be a problem. Fortunately, she still retained knowledge on how to water-walk. So she did so, tentatively striding upon the waves, wondering if Tetra would be able to swim his way across the channel. If not, she could leave him here, returning to this spot as supplies were needed during her delve.

But as it turns out, the animal began to walk on the sea behind her!









"Aye. Did not that peddler, from whom I purchased, mention some magical effects imbued within the animal's saddle? Seems rightly so!"

“Ghrr,” Tetra agreed with his mock-smile.

Turns out, the image she’d glimpsed was indeed a small island, and here indeed was Ilunibi. The cove's official name? 'Ilunibi, Carcass of the Saint' was etched upon its wooden entry-door. Since Joan no longer had her Buckmoth companion to fall back on, she'd be going into the place alone. Alone amongst those who’d been infected with corprus, that is. Joan Marie of Cheydinhal? She shivered just then.

A bull netch had gotten itself entangled into one of the island’s two trees, just above the cave's entrance. The gigantic gas bag's tentacles were harmless, Joan knew, as long as she did not interfere. Only occasionally did bulls become aggressive. Fortunately, this one remained passive. Perhaps the creature would somehow be able to free itself. Or perhaps it'd chosen to become intertwined with the tree's limbs, happy enough to be warmed by today's sun, buoyed by occasional tufts of pleasant air.


Four hours later…
By now it was getting close to nightfall. Joan awoke from the outdoor power-nap she'd chosen to take after supper, making a mental note to someday procure a set of camper's gear. Tetra could carry this extra equipment for sure. By now, the two-legged creature was carrying Joan's new magical mace, an assortment of clothes, potions, scrolls, and an assortment of miscellaneous items like the two books she’d purchased in Balmora. Would a rolled-up tent and bedroll set be too much for the animal?

"Aye, but y'are growing, aren't ya?"

Indeed. Tetra had been with the Cyrodiilian now for just over a month. Joan could see the guar was still growing. If he became the size of some of the wild guars she'd seen, Tetra would be strong enough to carry everything, and maybe hoist his own armor as well!

"Right. Here we go."

Joan readied her weapons, her shield, her armor. She was unsure which mace she would need: frost- or her new fire-based mace? Assuming the place held any enemies at all, of course (which it probably did, of course). She selected her Snowy Crown, which dealt magic of cold. This piece would be more effective against Dunmer, assuming the smugglers within were dark elves, of course. Most of the humanoid enemies she’d encountered in Vvardenfell so far were Dunmer, so the Snowy Crown seemed logical.

She did some preliminary stretching of her legs, arms, and neck before going inside the wretched place.

Ilunibi's entry passage tilted downward into the gloom. Joan stepped forward, keeping her footfalls quiet, which was not so easy while wearing boots of steel. She'd never trained to be any sort of a sneak; even as a child she'd loathed the idea of subterfuge, preferring to be honest and forthwith when amongst other children and orphans, while playing in the streets.

Suddenly, the path before her ended. And there was only one way to go from here: straight down, and without any visible footholds, or ladders.

"Drats."

Levitation! Never had she been more grateful that she'd bought the spell from the Khajiit back in Ald'ruhn; she'd certainly need it to return to this path.

She cast a spell of light, much better to see with than a flickering torch. Fortunately, there was a second path down into the cave below, and it was smooth. Well-worn. As if frequently used. -- The path corkscrewed downwards. Salt water cascaded here and there from the cave's walls, occasionally splashing Joan's lower half as she inched her way.

"So. As it's seen, that soldier I hired from Buckmoth wouldn't've been so effective, eh? True dungeoneering, this is."

She brightened her way downward with another spell, cautiously peering into the gloom. But nobody was here. Upon reaching the bottom, she breathed a sigh. A large chamber was before her, a pool of water in the distance. Joan grimaced, her face twisting... the EVIL within this place; she could feel it!

Though it was dark, she chose to not continue using her spell. And found she didn't need it, at least for the moment. "Better to traipse within darkness, without alerting any adversaries." Plus, she needed to conserve her magic. …The mages in Cyrodiil had recently discovered a way to make their mana regenerate, on the spot and at all times, which was all the rage among magic-users back home, of course. But nobody here in Vvardenfell knew these methods yet, Joan of Arkay included.

She came to a three-way intersection: she could continue straight, venture left, or turn to the right. She chose to venture left, walking waist-deep into chilly water. Glowing red candles had been placed onto various rocks and crevices along the walls, definite signs of inhabitation.

It wasn't until a few moments later when she spotted a figure just ahead! A being of some sort, manlike, but hunched in a peculiar kind of way. Joan readied the Spell of Holy Flames (her own custom-tailored version of a standard mage’s fireball) within her mind and then -- *FWUUF!* -- loosed an inferno from her palm.







The figure rushed towards her, engulfed within fiery magic. As the creature (the man?) got near, the crusader rushed forward and then bashed the thing with her magical mace, her normally-pleasant alto voice shrieking to soprano for the moment.

"WHERE ... WHERE ARE YOU LORD?" the being grunted aloud in the common language; obviously he’d once been a man. "SPEAK to us!!! PLEASE!"

Had she been too hasty with her attack? Joan Marie shrugged back, her eyes alert to the fact that perhaps she’d just made a tactical error. Too late now. The creature'd brandished some sort of weapon by then; hard to see in this semi-lit environment, and she hadn't had the time to cast another spell of light. So she was forced to finish what she’d started.

“Taa SUXTH BAR BABBLO DAS HJENGMEN!” the man-creature garbled a slew of half-words, the final words he’d speak during whatever former life he’d led, before stumbling and slumping to the ground.

Unsure what to do – had the eradication which just occurred been a death, or an undeath? -- Joan chose not to consult the being’s falling toward the benevolence of Arkay. Because chances were, his soul had already been tainted, and already claimed by darkness. And there wasn’t enough time to make things right, not now anyway.

The crusader sighed. "Well, news of good tidings," she pondered, lighting her spell so she could see what’d just been felled. "Turns out, 'e wasn't too harsh of a fight, now was he?" …If the rest of the cave was filled with half-men like this one, perhaps she'd be able to handle herself just fine, without any assistance at all.

Joan scrutinized her persona, feeling for anything untoward. Checked to see if she'd caught any sort of sickness, that is. She hadn't. "Really a lack of foresight, that I haven't got any disease-resistance potions to gobble. Fortunately, I did gather along those other bottles," she said, referring to the disease-curing and blight disease-curing potions, three of each, she'd had the 'foresight' to bring.

Because, the forces of adversity... they could never bring down an adventuring saint like this one.

The rest of the cave yielded two more creature-men, but also two more doors. Two more doors, which meant the cave-system was larger than she'd initially thought.

“Drats.”

Hours had passed. Her mana had dwindled after casting multiple spells, so she returned to that initial chamber, and then used her remaining magical resources to rise to the top of the cave. Walked outside, so she could rest. By now it was daylight, probably just past noon. The sun was high above. A nix hound had somehow managed to swim its way to the island. Fortunately the new animal (which was considered an overgrown insect, not an actual hound or a dog) was also not interested in attack. Not all hounds were aggressive, though some of them certainly could be. So now upon this tiny island were Joan, Tetra the pack guar, the bull netch (which was still stuck within the tree), and this unexpected hound.

In a way, the crusader found all of these extra creatures to be comforting, as she stole a few more hours of nap-time.


-----------------------

Netch in a Tree

Striding through Cavewater (brrr....)

Fighting a ... hmm, what the heck is that thing?

Bash! Crash!

Lopov'd, sort of

------------------------

Notes: 1). When it says Tetra the Guar is growing, this is real. Every so often I'll go into the Construction Set, just to scale him a little bigger.

2). "Mario Luigi" is a name I made up, of course. He was actually a member of the "Hunter's Guild", added by a mod which increases our ability to make money, by handing ingredients such as Nix Hound Meat or Cliff Racer Plume over for payment. So, one less way to earn coin in Joan of Arkay's gameworld.

Poor Luigi. Tetra has the right of it – Ghurr. Pick thine battles.

And Tetra can walk on water too! As mALX would say, Awesome!

Levitation and a light spell are indeed handy for dungeoneering. Does the Mages Guild in Morrowind teach night eye? And those mages in Cyridiil can regenerate magicka passively – pretty clever for outlanders!

A mole-goblin! Sort of. I guess.

Wise of Joan to retain enough magicka to resurface and rest.

Okay, gonna catch up today.

Does Olquar call you an outlander in-game? That is rather curious.

Ha ha! Poor Joan runs into the uniform regulation yet again, the bane of all Imperial Legion players. And while it's not that much of an inconvenience in-game, it's much more of one when you have to actually remove and replace each piece.

Oof, the report does serve as a reminder that Joan's about to get herself into a pretty messy situation.

Regardless, she knows what must be done and prepares herself for the worst.

Can't help wondering if Missun knows something about the Sixth House. Probably not, but maybe...

An Imperial soldier, on the other hand, wouldn't think twice. Definitely understand Joan's logic for hiring him. Never hurts to have another pair of eyes.

Oh, well Caryarel's shack is a nice bonus.

And here we are: near Ilunibi, with things about to take a turn.

Ha! Mario Luigi... I mean, if I ran into someone with that name in Tamriel, I'd definitely assume they were Imperial, so it fits. And he does seem to have typical guard programming.

Oof, that was brutal. Don't go swimming in armor.

But at least Tetra follows! Nice enchantment.

Morrowind gets pretty dark as a game, and I don't just mean in terms of content: it's hard to see in dark places. Those cavern tunnels can be pretty unnerving as a result.

Good introduction for the Sixth House. Captures their otherworldly vibe quite well.

All right, things are going well for Joan so far. Though did she really avoid sickness? We'll see. I'm guessing she's going to go back in for a closer look.

Thanks for explaining how the pack guar was growing.

Your first encounter with the Sixth House went well. Joan's reaction "strike first ask questions later" was a brilliant maneuver, this time.

Sensing the imminent danger beneath the waves Sir Luigi gave up his own life to prevent Joan from being devoured by a hungry sea monster. Brave Sir Luigi.

As one would expect, Mario jumps into action. Not onto a mushroom this time, or into a go-kart, but I am guessing after a slaughterfish?

Wow, so much for that plumber...

It looks like Tetra the Guar is turning out to be a much more faithful and useful companion that the erstwhile Mario.

A difficult path lies before Joan. Down into the depths of the underworld she travels. To face the evil that lurks within. A standard part of the Hero's Journey.

I like how you are making Tetra grow little by little as the game progresses.

So Joan's first foray into the depths went well enough. Some battles with darkness before retreating to regroup and recoup.

Hey, I've been sick all weekend, and even worse, haven't been able to sleep much. What an annoying combination. And there's a problem with this week's chapter as well, which I'll explain in a moment.

Not sure if you and others reading gathered this, all of you being more PC gamers than console gamers, but Mario and Luigi are two of the Nintendo characters which first appeared in arcade games 40+ years ago. I needed a name as I was editing, and just happened to be near the kids section at my job! We've got this whole section full of Princess This and Action Hero That. Mario & all his buddies are there, so now I had a name.


Acadian: As we'll find out, that whole early chapter when Mario runs into the sea could've been avoided! Turns out, all Joan had to do was literally walk north from Gnaar Mok. There's a set of wooden planks which we can walk on, which lead directly from the fishing village to the smuggler's cove. But on the in-game map Khartag Point is shown on the isthmus to the north, and Ilunibi isn't shown at all. It's an embarrassing set of gaming on my part, and from Joan's perspective her feelings are going to be even worse than mine.

Still... the man shouldn't have rushed into the water. I mean, c'mon.



Yes, Night Eye is also in MW. But its use would mean even more mana would get devoured, and Joan wouldn't want to use Night Eye anyway. She prefers 'bringing light' into nefarious locations, as much as she can, anyways.

When I gamed with Dyan phor a'Cauz years ago (Oblivion, in which mana regenerates) she'd often be using Light spells. Not only so she could see, but also to piss off all the underground baddies, who'd then start calling her "pathetic worm" and "is the baby gonna cry?"


WellTemperedClavier: Yes indeed, the high elf called Joan an outlander. Like I said, chances are that was just some dev copy-pasting text, though. There's a lot of copy-pasted text in Morrowind, despite the fact that with text-based dialog, the advantage over voiced dialog was supposed to be more content could get packed in-game.

I do believe Missun had some dialog pertaining to the Sixth House. I've noticed that as NPCs follow my character in the game, they tend to 'pick up' any local topics used by other NPCs in their vicinity, but I think he had something to say regarding the Sixth House right off the bat. If so, such info would've been another copy-paste.

... it's something the Morrowind fanatics would never mention whenever they showed into our cozy Oblivion forum to tell us how much our beloved game sucks: how much dialog in MW is copy-paste, in comparison to Oblivion, where a huge amount of topics said by individual NPCs is unique.

To go off-topic a moment, Joan really lucky finding that archer. A 'good guy' in a sea of awful corprus stalkers and such.



Oo boy, you said it. I actually cheated a bit, and allowed myself to take a gander at what's to come after Joan meets Gares. It's not pretty.

Wow, thanks for the compliment (in regards to capturing the Sixth House feel).


macole: Yes, I have been making the pack guar a little bigger, each time I'm in the CS, and also remember to do so. I belive he started at 0.50 after Joan first got him (half the size of a regular wild guar). I've scaled him up to 1.2 so far.

As Joan has delved farther into Ilunibi she's noticed that not all the corprus stalkers attack her. Sometimes they walk right by and leave her alone. 🧟🏾‍♀️ Like a true Lawful Good, she'll leave them alone if they leave her alone, but she didn't know this at the time, so that first assault was a gamble.

Sensing the imminent danger beneath the waves Sir Luigi gave up his own life to prevent Joan from being devoured by a hungry sea monster. Brave Sir Luigi.

Well that's one way to look at it! Still, that whole malaise could've been avoided.


SubRosa: Okay, you've gathered the guard's name then!

Indeed, there was a moment when Joan joked to her pack guar that he'd become a better companion than most of the humanoids she's had so far.

Thanks. Like you (perhaps) and others here, we've been virtual dungeoneering ever since high school. So we know how it's done.

Hmm...

This week's chapter got messed up. There's supposed to be a preamble (which I wrote at work while not gaming; total imagination, in other words) and a middle section (Joan delving into Ilunibi, which I wrote while gaming), and a third section: the final showdown between Joan of Arkay and Dagoth Gares. Problem is there's some text missing, and I'm too sick still to fill in the blanks. My head's all woozy. Heh, maybe this is another advantage to writing stuff well in advance.

So this week's chapter's on hold, while I post one of my faves from the past, from 2019, in fact. Click the spoiler tab below to get a quick summary on her.


So.... this story takes place in Morrowind. I'm posting it also because it represents a more Evil side to my gaming world, which balances out Joan's striving for Good all the time. We all could use a break from Joanie, right?


----------

Some time in Frost Fall, 3rd Era Year 429


Lurius Lalelius looked up from his drink, thinking he had heard some sort of noise. Stalked around, sniffed the air, then sat down. 

Was sure I heard something.

But of course, being a bandit located in the underground lair of Zainsipilu, 'hearing something' was always a sensory effect one must take with a grain of frost salts, as the saying goes. 'Hearing something' was always a sensory effect one must approach with a smidge of caution. Even though it had been two days since his last whiff of skooma, Lurius knew how use of moon sugar products could be. Heightened awareness was both a bonus and a curse. 

"Arenwen, are you out there?" 

He called into the gloom, wondering if his underground associate had managed to calm down the slaves.

"Hmph. Where is that slave?" he joked, referring to his partner as one of the mongrels they'd managed to capture over the past few months. Mostly Khajiit who'd stepped too far off the path, then found themselves being shipped to Vvardenfell. Such things could happen to those fur-covered nitwits who...

... I was sure I heard something, he thought again, this time being SURE his ears weren't betraying. He looked down into his brandy. Looked up.

And that's when he saw her. A flash of red, inches away, and a swish of deadly-beige robes. A momentary glimpse of the Altmer who was about to end his miserable life. But not before he'd give it one last chance.





"You N'WAH!" he cried. Grabbed his weapon, while the elf before him began to retreat. Lurius wasted no time rushing after her. Left the comfort of his underground den, hoping not to face a horde of freed slaves as well as the elf. No, this seemed not to be the case. 

"I am Igodah, and today you have swung your last weapon," the elf cried out. "Remember my name in your death, snort-monger." 

Lurius continued to follow her as she continued to retreat. This will be a cinch, once I finally catch the outlander! thought Lurius, just before his strength began to fade. Silly mages, always dressed in robes, NO MATCH for my blade! he mused, as some sort of magical effect began taking effect. Bah! Magic!

"I shall rid your miserable life, outlander!" 

And that was the last thing Lurius Laleuis, former Vivec gondolier-turned-bandit would say before his legs could carry him absolutely no more. He looked down to his boots, flabbergasted and flummoxed. Tried to swing his axe. Yes, he could still manage this. But not with much force. What was happening to him?  

Igodah Gopei stopped her retreat.

"How are you feeling, 'n'wah'?" she asked, putting some emphasis into that final word, a favorite taunt of bandits and outlaws all over and under. As she said this, Lurius noticed she was now approaching within swinging distance of his piece. 

"You elves... you ELVES!" 

"Aye, I know how it feels," her voice was silky. Sultry. Like she was one of those teasers he'd sometimes encounter in Vivec late at night. "Say what you are trying to say. What is it? We're all about flash but no fury, eh? Is THAT the standard war-cry used so surreptitiously by your kind?"

Lurius thrust at the elf. Connected. Normally, such an attempt would cause a broken rib, a gush of life-essence. But though the elf cried out in mock pain, his weapon had done nothing.

The elf in beige robes then cast another spell, summoning a bonewalker. And as Lurius began to get pummeled, helpless to move his legs, helpless to cause any damage, he wondered if his days in Vivec hadn't been so bad after all. 20 gold a day at most, true, but better than this.

As Lurius slumped to the floor, last thing he saw before darkness closed in was Igodah the elf's sinister smirk.   

-----------------------------------

Igodah wearing Expensive Robes - (She would often wear crap like this while going into rough areas, too. She liked to 'dress up' sometimes while dungeoneering, the idea being that she's like a poisonous fish which advertizes its dangers through striking colors.)

The end of one more

One of Igodah's 'homes'

Notes: This tale was a demonstration of Igodah's favorite new spell: Damage ST 5 points for 20 seconds on Touch. Yeah.... go ahead and do that math. See what she did there?

The main diff between Joan and Igodah (why Igodah's being considered evil) is that Joan doesn't really enjoy having to eradicate baddies, she merely does so because somebody has to, and she feels called to do so. Igodah actually enjoys what she does, and goes out of her way to include torture. She'd use her Damage Strength spell, causing her adversary to not be able to run at all, and then slice them up with a weak daggar, or (as we saw) her bonelord. Bonelords don't really do a whole lot of damage in the short-term. Which means that baddie was now stuck at Igodah's whims.

Oh yes, I immediately got the guard's name. I never had a Nintendo or got into the Mario games. But he's just a cultural icon now.

Sorry to hear that you are sick. You can just take time off from here, and posting writing. There is no real deadline here. Just do what is right for you.

That said, it is interesting to see a t00n from the old days. I remember you talking about Igodah Go^Pe and Dyan Phor A'Cauze in the old days. So it will be interesting to see her in action. I did not realize that she was evil. I guess I mixed her up with Dyan, whom if I remember rightly was a paladin.

I do love taking things with a grain of frost salts.

That snort-monger will rue the day he crossed paths with Igodah!

Wow, Igodah really is an evil so-and-so, sadistically stretching it out like that. Her parents should have taught her not to play with her food.

Renee, I do enjoy your stories and comments so please, get well soon.

That is one nasty spell. Your description on how it took affect was perfect. It is a good thing you don't use a mod that has chance for a spell to backfire on you.

Renee, I hope you're feeling better soon. Here:


Nice to see Igodah Gopei again. A wonderfully malicious spell she has there – giving her plenty of time to make like a cat playing with a mouse.

Buffy understands both Joan’s and Idodah’s approach to taking out foes. Indeed, she struggles between the two. Most of the time she reluctantly kills worthy foes like Joan. But sometimes a cruel streak absolutely manifests vs two-legged varmints. We remember once when she was riding and was accosted by a highwayman. She used Superian’s speed to turn and escape but the bandit took a swipe at Superian (and missed) with his battle axe. Buffy was so furious that once she had escaped and ensured her precious mare was unharmed, she stealthily returned and gut-shot the bandit with a slow acting but lethal poison and watched with a smile as he gradually squirmed to death. As a paladin of Kynareth, she tries to restrain the cruel Buffy but sometimes still falls short.

Thanks everyone. I do feel better, all I needed was about 10 hours of sleep and a huge, healthy salad packed with lots of stuff.

Today shall be the last Joan of Arkay story for the year 2023. It's a bit long but eh, no pressure trying to keep up. I'll probably continue writing her tale again in the spring but for now I'll try to see if I can get into some Laprima Donnaugh. 💀 Even so, I probably won't post any Laprima until 2024, unless I start to get REALLY antsy for writing & posting!


Buffy understands both Joan’s and Idodah’s approach to taking out foes. Indeed, she struggles between the two. Most of the time she reluctantly kills worthy foes like Joan.

Interesting. I knew about the Buffy Doctrine (be nice to me, and you're my friend, but be mean to me, and I'll likely kill you {in so many words}). Did not know she struggles between what I'll call righteousness and being stone-cold-blooded.

I can totally appreciate what it's like to slam some foe with a poisoned arrow and smile as they keel over. Which is weird because normally I'm a Whole Foods-shopping, pay-bills-on-time, be at work on time sort of gal. Maybe that's why we still play videogames as we're getting older, so we can play out all the twisted stuff in the back of our minds.


That is one nasty spell. Your description on how it took affect was perfect. It is a good thing you don't use a mod that has chance for a spell to backfire on you.

Backfire? So some folks can't get enough with just spell fizzle, eh, wow.

Early in my Morrowind days I was frustrated with magic, and how daunting it is just to cast a simple Bound Daggar. I went on Reddit and got plenty of tips. So that's where that idea came from.

Basically, an enemy can have 500 hitpoints, okay? But they'll never have more than 100 Strength, as far as I know. I Gotta would creep up on enemies while invisible, and then cast her Damage ST spell. As the enemy would lose the ability to run, literally standing in place, my Evil Altmer would then start to mess with them. She'd walk slowly around their lairs, looting their possessions, occasionally hitting them with a weak Destruction spell, and so on.


Oh yes, I immediately got the guard's name. I never had a Nintendo or got into the Mario games. But he's just a cultural icon now.

Oh gosh, this reminds me, I really gotta apologize about that. Of course you all know who those toons are. That's sort of embarrassing.

Thanks, hon. I enjoy pushing myself every week for 'deadlines', but yeah, there comes a time when we gotta take care of ourselves first.

Absolutely, Dyan was a total goodie; she'd be in chapel every Sundas (and in REAL time) while walking around towns barefoot and wearing cheap clothes to show 'humility'. ⛪ Toons such as Igodah and Luci Pheria were the complete opposite. That was always fun back in those days; I'd get these total paranoid feelings while gaming with evil or some of my grayer people; they'd often have bounties. Then I'd switch to Dyan's game, who NEVER had a bounty. Never did anything wrong, never got in any sort of trouble, etc. It'd be like this sigh of relief.

I remember you had a ton of characters back in the day, too: Persephone and Teresa and Hecate. You had trouble coming up with names so you'd use names from mythology. Ah, those were the days.


Well, Joanie's final story got quadruple-drafted over these past couple weeks, and it shall be up soon.

Dagoth Gares, the current underground minister of the Sixth House Base, gloated before one of the most-venerated pieces of tabernacle ever to represent the original (now defunct) Great House Chimer organization: the Shrine of Ilunibi.

The shrine he’d become appointed to after much pilgrimage and guidance from the unseen was much feared, yet also the stuff of legends and rumors. – Does such a sanctuary actually exist? - Truly it does, right under the feet of those who dwell along the Bitter Coast, and Gares was its faithful underground tender. Ilunibi was indeed worshiped by those who revered the inscrutably-fabulous Dagoth Ur, and Dagoth Gares, whose mind had long become corrupted by forces he did not entirely understand, was the shrine’s proud, indisputably-predominant priest.

“Someone… is alerting to our presence,” the priest mumbled in front of the shrine’s altar, which glowed suddenly with pale bluish translucencies (rather like magical snowflakes), as if portending and confirming. “A neophyte maverick? Another fool? Come to reclaim the fraudulence portrayed by the much-vaunted tales of ancient history? Another imbecile, being led along the path of falsehoods and decadence which shall direct him STRAIGHT into this den, like so many others before him? So many false bearers of our true, long-ago Lord Nerevar. Watch over me. I pray for the forthcoming moment when we shall place upon him our true infections if need be, as has befallen so many others. Or... shall we welcome this newcomer together in peace, my stupendous overlord...?”

But then… something was not right. The Shrine of Ilunibi, always alert and aware of its keeper’s mindsets, suddenly went dim. Because something concerning Gares’s current insights seemed a bit off. A bit… skewed and tainted. As though his visions were being muddled. The priest scratched at the snout which had (over time) replaced what was once a handsome, ordinary Dunmer face, pondering. Whatever could be amiss?

Dagoth Gares had once been like so many youths of contemporary late-Third Era Vvardenfell: eager for learning, eager to claim whatever in life was hopefully to manifest: children, a family, a home of sturdy adobe, a fruitful life, a garden of pretty plants: anthers and stoneflowers and golden kanets, and perhaps the courtship of some lucky Dunmer lass, whenever she’d happen to come along.

He’d been quite the bookworm during his long teenage years; studying under direct tutelage of a history teacher in Balmora’s Drenlyn Academy, a teacher who had a habit of emphasizing certain WORDS like SO, dazzling students with effervescent passion, yet also guiding them for the future with premier, imaginative storytelling. During this period of his life there was one other student, a girl nearly his age, whom he felt attracted to. She was also a bookworm; it seemed she was always walking around with some publication in hand, reading between classes, reading after school, assuming she wasn't going round with one of others in her limited social circle.

Not only was she a reader, but this particular young lady owned a pair of glasses! Extremely rare, ocular implements such as these were worth a lot of money, almost never to be seen in Vvardenfell, even among those with drakes. But Dagoth was too shy. And she happened to be of the wrong race, anyway.

After graduating, Gares became a member of House Hlaalu. He also entered a sort of seminary; a preparatory school for the Tribunal Temple. He was planning to become an ordained minister of the temple, while his Balmorian family proudly looked on.

But somewhere along, it’d all gone wrong. Somewhere along, Gares’s nightly dreams began flooding with praiseworthy images, yes, not sinister in the least (at first), but more like inspirational sights: promises and pixies and untainted pastures. This caused the young elf to question his current status in life, without him even knowing he was doing so. One day in the month of Rain's Hand he’d left the seminary, and then simply vanished. Left his family and Balmora behind. The once-so-ordinary mer had become drawn toward darkness before he even knew he was caught within its vortex…







Chapter LV -- Dagoth Gares

30 Second Seed (Day 288), noon

The Crusader from Cyrodiil entered the cave for the second time. There would be this second attempt to penetrate Ilunibi’s blackened passages, and days later, a third try. Between the second and the third attempts, the crusader, a ‘she’, not a ‘he’, needed to make a round trip back to Balmora and Caldera, so she could stock up supplies, and persuade another Imperial soldier to follow her. This time, she would lead her new follower nowhere near any sort of coastal waters.

Beyond the initial cave system called 'Carcass of the Saint' was a second system (Tainted Morrow). Tainted Morrow contained a few more enemies, mostly ash zombies, which Joan learned about after consulting a field manual on fauna and flora. Tainted Morrow also held another three-way intersection, which led to two more doors. Joan chose to go straight (the leftward of the two doors), where she arrived at a third cave system: Marowak's Spine.

As she made her way deeper and further, she was using what was known as the Gibbeous Method, presumably named after a long-ago dungeoneer named Gibbeous. She’d learned this method in one of the semi-martial courses offered back in Cheydinhal. The idea was simple: strike a pattern, and then continue to follow this pattern. If the delver had two directions to choose, and chose left, and then arrived at two more directions, the next direction to choose should be another left. And this pattern continues until all leftward directions have been exhausted; the idea here being consistency.

Eventually, delvers would go as far as they could in their chosen direction, whether it'd be left or right. As they backtracked, they should then follow all of the paths not chosen, again using a consistent pattern. If all the remaining directions were rightward ones, these should be chosen until all options to go right were exhausted.

Followers of Gibbeous claimed to boast greater success avoiding what every dungeoneer feared: getting lost.

"Stendarr, guide mine path."

Still, as pathways sometimes crisscrossed and she (hours later) found herself returning to the initial Carcass system, Joan of Arkay eventually found herself disoriented and confused, Gibbeous or no Gibbeous. To truly learn the ways all these corridors and chambers connected she’d need to draw a map. Which she did not have the patience to accomplish. Because remember, she was still needing to sight and defend herself from monsters and adversaries all the while.

“‘Tis why some delvers specify in such things as cartography,” she muttered at one point.

Occasionally, she’d encounter men, mostly dark elves, who'd be wearing next-to-no clothing. It seemed these men (there were no women or children down here) were mostly uninfected by corprus. None of them were disfigured, for instance; yet they had made a decision to dwell within Ilunibi of their own free will. But why had they chosen to do so in such an exposed manner? – It was as if they'd given up all of their worldly possessions, even their clothes, so they could lurk deep within their master's glow without any further chance of reversing their despicable decisions. These were folks who'd freely chosen to bask in the glory of Dagoth Ur, according to what they babbled as Joan entered their dens, eschewing even such simple matters as protection and modesty, as they hastily flipped their former lives for... this.





5 Mid-Year (Day 294)
By now, Joan had returned from Caldera with her new soldier companion, because Ilunibi's underground passages yielded a variety of underground dwellers, many of them requiring more resources and patience to fight than she’d been accustomed to. In addition to the men disfigured by corprus were horrible ash creatures, skeletons who’d been former champion types during their long-ago lives, atronachs, and daedra. This delve was becoming exhausting! And Joan of Arkay was not adverse to requesting some help.

During her nightly dreams, she'd occasionally envision herself at the helm of others, great gatherings of folks of all types, following her toward conclusions which she'd never recall upon waking. As though she was some sort of leader in these dreams.

But this was no dream. This horrid environment she was now penetrating, was much more of a nightmare, brought to wakeful reality.

Finally, it seemed she was on the right track. In a cave-section called Blackened Heart she found an area in which the path raised a sudden incline. There was one final door to cross, which led into a final system: Soul’s Rattle.






“Remain standing here,” she advised her guard before entering the door. Wouldn’t want the man to rush blindly ahead, as Legionnaires sometimes did, causing a ruckus when such might not be needed at all. “If assistance is needed I shall return.”

“As you wish, Joan of Cyrodiil.”

She could see the zest within the man's eyes: you wish for me to stand down NOW? those eyes pleaded. But procedure was to be honored at a time like this, no question. You wish to badger your way past the latest kagouti or road-bandit in the overworld? Go right ahead. But in a place Ilunibi, there was a way to approach these menaces and monsters, and there were times when the overhanded way a soldier made his or her attempts did not match the finesse Joan wanted to espouse. Plus, she was starting to feel as though finally, she was getting near to whatever truth was about to unfold.

She entered Soul’s Rattle. And here finally, a rational voice called to her. "I have you!" it said.

Yet another adversary, at first she assumed. She grabbed for her mace and gulped a fortifying potion. Cast some of the magic held within her Septim Ring, which increased possible damage she could bash with her weapon. “Show thyself, for ye too shalt perish at my baton,” she threatened whomever had spoken.

But all of this was unnecessary, it seemed.

"The Sixth House greets you, Lord Nerevar," an individual said as he rounded a blind turn. “I… am Dagoth Gares, and I welcome you to my home.”

The man before her was one of many who’d been affected by corprus. His back and shoulders weren’t hunched, but his face was completely mangled. Despite this, he hadn’t caused an immediate affront. And it seemed he was attempting to insert some warmth into his voice. "I am known as Dagoth Gares, priest of Ilunibi Shrine, and minister to the Sixth House servants."

Gares paused, confused for a moment. The figure before him, a woman, rather than the man he'd expected according to his former twisted visions, stood still, and said nothing. The woman, interestingly enough, was also not Dunmer, as so many Nerevarine purportees had been in the past. Could this be the difference between all those false claimants, and what many had imagined to be the One True Prophet, come to reclaim His Glory?

"Hmm, not much to say?” Gares began in his phlegm-occluded voice. “Well then, I must tell you: my Lord, Dagoth Ur, has informed me of your coming, although I must admit your pale skin and feminine gender are not as I’d envisioned. Anyhow, I must start by saying that I hope you have come to honor your Lord's friendship," he said. "Not betray it."

The woman, wearing golden Imperial armor, was bathed in some sort of magical effect. "It behooves me," she finally spoke. "Such heinousness. How such misdirections keep occurring, regarding who I am.” She sighed. “For hear this, sire: I am not the Lord Nerevar. I deign to accept such a lofty title, which oddly keeps being slung toward me. My name is Joan Marie, and I hail from Cheydinhal under the beloved benevolence of Arkay. This is it, and that is all. I must hope that these words shall now be gathered with measured prudence, Dagoth Gares.”

Joan halted her speech just then, suddenly realizing: here was a chance to finally take a moment of respite. Evil before her or not, she found herself somewhat glad to be having this break of conversation. To reach this inner sanctum of Ilunibi she'd had to fight a series of enemies, each one seemingly tougher than the next. Not all of them required assistance from her guard; she’d chosen to duel with roughly half these menaces on her own. The toughest, she realized, was a daedroth. She’d taken down actual daedroth!

But now it was time for the foul-faced man before her to retort. Would he continue to use words rather than warfare?

"Dagoth Ur is the Awakened Lord of the Sixth House," he explained patiently, as if trying to educate. "Come to cast down false gods, drive foreigners from the land, and restore the ancient glory of Morrowind."

The former meek student of Drenlyn allowed a moment for her to reply, but Joan of Arkay said nothing.

"He bids you come to the Red Mountain, saint. For the friendship and honor that once you shared, he would grant you counsel and power, if only you would pledge that friendship anew."

The crusader shook her head. "I am not Lord Nerevar, what must we do to come and comprehend this…?"

"And I must counter this argument. For the path to Red Mountain is long, and filled with danger, but if you are worthy, you will find there wisdom. There is a firm friend, and all the power you shall need to set the world a-right."

As implacably stubborn as she found Gares to be, Joan couldn’t help but let her inquisitive nature take control. She became curious.

Firstly, she was still not under attack. Secondly, the deformed man before her was at least trying to be cordial. She found herself wanting to hear more. – According to some of the lessons she had absorbed as she’d learned how to fight, questing and adventuring across the lands was not always about brawls, combat, and strife; occasionally there'd be moments like this one, when intelligence could be gathered, even if it did come from nefarious sources.

"The Sixth House was not dead," Gares stated, "but only sleeping. Now it wakes from its long dream, and with its Lord, Dagoth Ur, it comes forth to free Morrowind of foreign rules and divine pretenders. When the land is swept clean of false friends and greedy thieves, the children of Veloth will build anew a garden of plenty in this blighted wasteland.”

“I see,” Joan replied. “I have taken notice, Dagoth Gares, that occasionally you’ve been speaking of I, Joan of Arkay, becoming some sort of friend, have you not? But take awareness, that I've just been attacked and blighted by these very Sixth House minions you’ve chosen to surround yourself with, hmm? How can I be whom you’ve then expected?"

"Forgive the rude welcome," Gares answered with a diplomatic gesture. "But until you have declared for us your intentions, we must treat you as our enemy."

Gares explained that the Sleepers and the Dreamers (those who had been seriously infected with corprus, and those who hadn't, respectively) were indeed called to service by the Sixth House, but hadn't yet been 'blessed' by Ur's power. Which meant: they could not glean her so-called importance just yet. He then explained a few things about his past, how he’d once been a student and then a priest-in-training, along with so many others in the town of Balmora, until he’d heeded Ur’s calling. Since then, his life had never been the same. It had seemingly improved, according to his mannerisms and the way he spoke. As if skulking around in underground cavities surrounded by deformed devotees was any sort of improvement, only he could judge for himself.

But the crusader was not convinced. After many minutes of listening to the man ramble about servants and minions and his Lord Dagoth Ur and his faithfulness to the Sixth House and the bloody meaning of the Red Volcano, Joan decided she’d heard enough. All of this was headed toward either one conclusion or the other. Either the man would continue his sermon until he was satisfied Joan was on his side, or he'd drop the whole matter, and she’d possibly then be under a bit of peril.

"Lord Dagoth gives me these words to say to you, so you may give them thought," Gares pontificated for the umpteenth time. "Once we were friends and brothers, Lord Nerevar, in peace and in war…"

"Alright," Joan answered. Let us see where these words are headed.

"Yet beneath Red Mountain, you struck me down as I guarded the treasure you bound me by oath to defend." Gares said, his voice rising a bit. "Remembering our old friendship, I would forgive you, and raise you high in my service!"

This again. "Must it be, that we continue to deny to whom ye speaketh?” Joan asked, palming the heft of her magical mace. “For again, I must explain that I am not this Lord."

Again, Gares ignored, although by now he was becoming visibly upset. "But... my Lord Dagoth bids you come to Red Mountain! For the friendship and honor that once you shared, he would grant you counsel and power, if only you would pledge that friendship anew," he suggested. "I am not your Lord Dagoth...."

"Aye. These are the first words of truth spoken during this diatribe, graced upon my ears..."

"...yet I, too, would say to you... Do you come with weapons to strike me down? Or would you put away your weapon, and join me in friendship?"

Ah. Quite the conundrum. Because what if this so-called 'friendship' involved an actual era of peacetime? Could it be possible that Joan Marie might actually leave the caverns of Ilunibi, so she could return to Caius with news of good tidings?

But then she remembered what he'd done to the soldiers of Buckmoth. All those troops, murdered, with only one left standing so he could return to civilization a dying abomination!

"Lord Dagoth would far rather have you as a friend than an enemy," Dagoth grumbled. "But until you submit to him, Sixth House servants will treat you as an enemy, and try to destroy you. If you wish to be our friend, first you must go to Lord Dagoth in his citadel on Red Mountain, and make your submission."

“The temerity!” cried the Breton. “Are these the words spoken by thee being chosen to somehow persuade me into submission?" Seeing where this could possibly be headed, she readied a spell of magic within her mind. "I cannot and will not allow myself to submit to any deity, or the threats of heathens who allow themselves to become betrothed to such non-amicable personages," Joan seethed, her voice rising to match his.





Suddenly, the match began. Joan stepped quickly backwards, using the moment to gulp a potion and cast Dragon Skin, one of the spells she’d inherited just for being Breton-born. The fighting between priest and crusader was fast and furious!

Joan vaunted forward, bashing her opponent with her magical mace, causing flashes of fire to burn his skin as she fought. Dagoth countered without any weapon at all; flailing her with ungauntleted palms, although Joan quickly noticed his attack did cause some of her health to drain. She smashed the man again and again, remembering as the melee ensued to retreat at least once, so she could revive her quickly-ailing health!

Thank the Gods for Restoration!

The pair continued dashing and smashing, Joan’s Blessed Shield taking some of the brunt of Gares’s barehanded attacks. – Thoughts and fears and flashes flying all about! – Joan’s arm was bleeding… as the magic within her weapon waned (so that now she was merely attacking with bronze upon skin) her heaps of strength training, hours spent tempering at the forge, also began to wane. Her breaths began to gasp. Would she need to place an ultimate retreat into the cave’s former section so she could retrieve the services of her guard?

Thankfully, that’s when it ended. Dagoth Gares fell to the ground, his arms and body dented and bleeding, obviously wasted for good. Despite this, with his dying breath the Sixth House priest smiled and gestured in a peculiar kind of way, after which Joan immediately knew something was now amiss. Sortilege! thought she.

The Crusader from Cyrodiil knew right then she'd been cursed.

"Even as my Master wills," he said, laying upon the cave's floor, "you shall come to him. In his flesh, and of his flesh."

"We shall see about that. May Arkay guide thy forthcoming path, Dagoth Gares, should it be that you should find thyself with such fortune."

Joan swung her mace with all her remaining might, connecting one final time upon Gares's shoulder, dislocating it for good, causing the formerly handsome elf to expel his last gasp. Because when it came to moments of combat like this one, the aim wasn’t just to win, it was also to let your opponent know he had lost, even as he gazed upon his remains from the afterlife.

Her mission seemingly done, Joan of Arkay dropped her mace and her shield, overcome with fatigue. She then began the habitual process of sussing about, looking for anything she could gather and use, or sell for profit.

On Gares's body she found a scroll which had been seemingly addressed to her, or at least, to whomever’d been claiming to be the Nerevarine as of late. Again, this note rambled about matters which so desperately wanted to grab her attention: the Sixth House, Dagoth Ur, the Red Volcano, and blah-de-blah and neigh-neigh, and so forth.

Joan of Arkay, lightly-feverish and yet empowered full of dying adrenaline, read the demon's note, and then crumpled it. Dropped it upon the ground next to the minion she'd just felled.


-----------------------

Joan's Animal Camp -- (This was total luck, all these critters showing up outside of Ilunibi, yet all of them being non-hostile. Awhile back I added peaceful versions of all the non-blighted/diseased creatures, and then slipped them into Leveled Lists along with the meanies. So there's a chance of encountering cliff races, nix hounds, rats, mudcrabs, etc. as peaceful. But there's usually at least one hostile in a group such as this).

Fighting a Daedroth

Dagoth Gares's pwning

Shrine of Ilunibi

Dagoth Ur's personal note to the Nerevarine

Sunset Lopov'd

------------------------

Notes: The list of magical effects shown in Joan's Magic menu after being cursed is long!

1). Fortify Maximum Magicka (Breton Birthsign)

2). Resist Magicka (Breton Birthsign)

3). Drain Intelligence, Willpower, Personality, and Speed (all of these are due to her being infected by corprus).

4). Fortify Strength, and Endurance (corprus disease again).

Thankfully, all these corprus effects are weak, and Joan’s two-dimensionally pallid face has not been distorted by the disease.