Why do supervillains always put their lairs in active volcanoes, full of lava? Seems like bad Feng Shui.

Yikes! Nord with an axe and hot lava below! Stendarr's Mercy!

Did the Nord actually do that in the game? It would be hilarious if he did run into the lava.

Still no puzzle box! This is turning out to be a frustrating adventure for Joan.

Errata: I referred to Joan as Joan of Arkay toward the end there. That's a mistake. Caused by habit. I meant to write Joan of Cyrodiil or Joan of Cheydinhal so go by that.

Joan of Arkay is a wrong name? But this thread is called "The Saga of Joan of Arkay". Now you got me confused!

She can be both a devotee of Arkay and be from Cheydinhal or Cyrodiil, can't she? I don't see a contradiction.

At this time she is not Joan of Arkay yet. She's just Joan. JoA is Renee's paladin character from Oblivion. In this series we go back in time to before she earned that lofty role, and instead was just a scrappy young do-gooder who had yet to find her place in the world.

Writing is hard. It really is harder than it seems, sometimes. Doesn't matter how many times I edit, there's always stuff which makes me go Argh!! And now that I'm putting this into FF I'm trying to really get these tales mistake-free. But they will never be, right? There's always stuff I consider to be flaws.

But yeah, she's not supposed to be singularly devoted to Arkay yet. So that's some mistakes I made along the way.

Frightening, what an apt word. Yes, even though this is "just a videogame" it was terrifying. I think I was probably screaming when she fell into the pit, and then her health went SWOOP almost to a sliver, just like that.




- Oh yes, he actually did that in the game. He came rushing after Joan. Suffice to say, the NPC AI in any Beth game can be a bit short-sighted. Hey, I'll use that to my advantage whenever I can.

- Here comes the puzzle box!

8 Heartfire (Day 24)

The Dwemer Puzzle Box




It takes six days (six!) before Joan finds the Dwemer Puzzle Box. And when she finally does find it, she realizes she never needed to bother jumping over broken bridges, risking her life rushing through burning hot fluid, and confronting most of the dozen or so bandits she’d dealt with. To find the box, all she had to do was pay more attention to how the very first, massive Dwemer chamber was laid out.

In fact, the very first bandit she’d faced could have potentially shown her the way. He had run toward her down a nondescript, winding ramp of stone, rushing headstrong from an upper floor which Joan could not figure how to reach. After much head-storming, she finally sees the ramp. It's been literally right in front of her all this time! She walks quickly up its narrow path. Walks into the room which had been out of her grasp for days. Susses her new location. Takes a few steps into yet another corridor, and finds herself in a final cell carved of stone. In here, she deals with one last bandit, who she fights without her guard's assistance. Once the bandit is a-lay on the floor, fallen dead from Joan's shortsword, she finally finds the box.

And where does she find it? Sitting on a shelf made of typical dwarven metal along with a few miscellaneous scraps of material. Out in the open. Not even hidden in a locked chest!

Joan Marie removes both her gauntlets. Picks the puzzle box up. Tilts it within her hands this way and that, while making quiet noises which (for her) are akin to the foulmouthed curses of a drunken sailor. All those days. She can see the box is ornate, obviously crafted with patience and care. But why on Nirn had Hasphat asked her to locate the blasted thing? What importance could it possibly have for him? Obviously, there’s a reason he had her seek the box, what could it possibly be?

Well, now that she’s got it, Joan wastes no time walking back to Balmora with her guard, so she can do nothing else but deliver the thing to Hasphat Antabolis.

"So," Hasphat starts, "have you done that little favor I asked?"

The moment is a grand one. Done! … Done she is with the creaks and groans of that large Dwemer ruin, seeking to retrieve an item which seems to have no significance, other than possibly an artistic one. "You wished for me to procure this?" Joan reveals the box to Hasphat from under a scarf, then gives it to him. “Gladly, it is now in your possession.” Perhaps he’ll do the same exact thing as whomever placed the box in Arkngthand so long ago. Perhaps he’ll put it upon some shelf. Maybe show it off to all his townie friends for awhile. Maybe forget about it entirely after a week or two.

"Perfect! Just what I was looking for,” he gushes. “Just let me take this Dwemer puzzle box, and then I'll tell you what Caius will want to know about the Sixth House." He lowers his voice. "And about the Nerevarine," he says in a near whisper. As he does so, he hands her a small stack of pages. “Take these to Caius, if you please.”

Joan gives him a brief, tense smile before heading off to bed. Tomorrow, she'll be ready to speak again to Caius Cosades, supposed top marshal for the Blades here in town. After she does so, Hasphat promises he will give her a key the next time she speaks to him. This key is supposed to open some locked-up portions of Arkngthand, says he.

Wondrous. By the curses of daedra, she’ll be headed back to those bloody ruins again at some point. Forsooth! ... Forsooth!





Early Morning
Joan Marie finds herself at some sort of celebration, which she soon determines is somebody's wedding. Here, she meets a tall figure with a golden mask. This figure leads Joan amongst a series of dark and greyish manlike shadowy shapes. She hears voices, but no one's lips move. She strains to breathe, yet her chest refuses to contract and expand.

The tall figure speaks with each silhouette he passes by, laughing and joking, but none of them make any sort of reply.

An ominous feeling pervades her person as the figure moves about. What exactly is the cause of this feeling? She does not know. During her waking life, she's always in control of herself. Always a display of confidence, even when she feels like a trapped mouse. But now, she struggles and panics! She wishes to cry out, but finds she cannot...


... And then she wakes up. "By the Gods," she sputters, nearly leaping out of bed. "By the Gods, by the Gods." She finds that she is breathing hard, and must focus her will to calm herself. "Just a nightmare, just a horrid, horrible nightmare." She looks around her pleasantly-lit Fighters Guild bedroom. Takes a moment to shudder and shiver, then realizes she’s not alone.

"I've got a few minutes if you need something," says Wayn, who is standing inside of Joan's room. Wayn is one of the Fighters Guild's trainers.

Joan composes herself, before donning her shoes, and heading off to face the day. Her nightmare? It fades. Seems silly by daylight. But she makes an effort not to forget it by writing its events within her travel journal. She does so in the Lucky Lockup, where she also breaks her night-fast with a meal of kwama eggs and marshmarrow leaves. "Still no sweetrolls on the menu," she muses quietly as she eats. Finally, she makes her way to consult with Caius. By now it is late morning.

"Speak freely friend," he greets, welcoming Joan into his comfy home. Still no shirt to cover his chest, but by now Joan finds she's not so bothered by this.

"The task for Hasphat has been accomplished, to his grateful satisfaction," she informs.

"Are you here to discuss your orders, Joan of Cyrodiil?"

She begins to correct him that she is more specifically from Cheydinhal, and therefore not to be confused with anyone else named Joan, who happens to also be from Cyrodiil. But she lets the moment pass. "What sort of orders have you now in mind?"

"Do you have the notes from Hasphat Antabolis?" he asks.

"I do." She hands him the stack of pages given to her by their contact in the Fighters Guild.

Caius takes a few minutes to glance over the notes. "I've glanced at Hasphat's notes,” he eventually lets her know, as if she has trouble comprehending. “They cover the Sixth House admirably, but not the Nerevarine cult."

"I see. And what is it you wish from me?" For there has to be something next on the man’s mind.

And there is. "Hop over to the Balmora Mages Guild," he says. "It's right next to the Fighters Guild. Get Sharn gra-Muzgob to tell you what she knows about the Nerevarine. Uh. Sharn’s an orc, with green skin,” he says with a wink. “She'll have some silly errand for you. Do what she asks. And report back to me when she's given you the information."

Joan wonders why Caius himself cannot do any of this. Why can't he walk across the river, and speak to the orc himself? Perhaps ‘tis something to do with being recognized within town, she concludes. Maybe the man is in hiding. Or cannot be seen in the company of one of the guilds for whichever reasons.

In the meantime, Joan's funds are getting low, especially after buying all those potions and scrolls, then not getting paid much by Caius. Devout holy knights who tithe regularly, and give their unneeded possessions to the poor occasionally still need wages. After all, without an influx of coin in her purse, none of this questing about is as easily-possible. Her armor pieces and sword need upkeep, her belly needs to stay sated so her mind can stay focused. And so on.

So she takes the time to pick up another Fighters Guild contract. This one will send her to Caldera, a town which lies several miles to the north of Balmora. Caldera has its own ebony mines, and Telvanni agents have illegally taken over one of them. Since raw ebony can sell for up to two hundred drakes per pound, Joan's task is simple: rid the mine of its riff raff. Return Caldera’s mining machine to full monetary efficiency. Joan of Cyrodiil guesses these Telvanni agents are of a different breed, compared to the two egg farmers who’d gone rogue within their own workplace a few weeks earlier.

It’s just that word ... Agents, which sends an odd feeling down Joan’s spine. She thinks she won’t be bothering with pacified words, in an attempt to shift their meandering, unholy lives over to the Nine when she meets these folks.

One thing is certain, she realizes as she heads toward supper. At least it shan't take an entire six days to eradicate these unholy menaces from their choice of a hideout. Of this, she is sure and confident.


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


Joan’s text message nightmare

That Blasted, Bloody Puzzle Box! -- (Can ya see it?)

Joan meets with Hasphat

I am not surprised it took Joan that long to find the box. Most of the times I have done that quest I have walked right past it numerous times. It is like a chameleon box, it blends in perfectly with its surroundings. And I also usually missed that ramp and the upper floor. The last time I did it was a few weeks ago, and January had to use a levitate spell to get up there. Only then did I see the ramp.

I love the idea of the puzzle box being put on a shelf and forgotten. Then in a thousand years some other adventurer will have to brave the ruins of Balmora to retrieve it as part of the quest they are on!

Oh no, I hope nobody stole the sweetrolls!

Joan of Cyrodiil does work for her. At least until she earns another, more divine appellation.

Joan has inspired me to do the Imperial Cult questline in Morroblibivion. So January might be following some of Joan's footsteps.

So the bloody puzzle box is finally found! And given to Asphalt. Whew. The ESO puzzle box quest is totally different except for its dwemer connection and location in a dwemer dungeon.

"Get Sharn gra-Muzgob to tell you what she knows about the Nerevarine. Uh. Sharn’s an orc, with green skin,"
- - Caius, I think the 'gra' in her name kinda gave all that away, leaving simply your gift for stating the obvious. Lol.

Another Fighters Guild contract. This time to eradicate some Telvanni rats from a mine. Wonder if they know magic?

I agree, Rosa. The way the devs hid not just the box, but colored the ramp as well so that it's not so obvious, is what I must really take a lesson from in the future. I assume other quests in this game will use such convoluted measures to hide stuff, which the later games do not suffer ... erm.... were created from.

-- Nice, so Jan does use Levitation.

-- I think I may have made a little mistake when I said the box has been placed in Arkantarkin and forgotten. Wasn't the box stolen, and therefore put into the ruin more recently? On the other hand, that was Joan's set of thoughts, not mine.

-- Sweetrolls are something Joanie misses from Cyrodiil.

Ah, so there's another puzzle box quest in Elder Scrolls Online!!! I really need to play that game again, Acadian. Maybe I'll focus more on quests if I do, since Lopov is in Skyrim now, I won't get tempted to just go adventuring with him & Shonta.

--In fact, I did not write up the Telvanni agents in the mine, because it's sort of all the same as before. I'm going to pick and choose the adventuring I write up, as we'll see in a few...

--I will continue Joan's story until Xmas. But then I'm going to take a break from Morrowind and switch to Laprima in Skyrim. So these next two or three chapters will be it for 2021.

Merry Xmas, y'all, and Festivus for the rest of us.

12 Heartfire (Day 28), early morning

Andrano's Tomb




It took Joan and her guard a day to travel from Balmora to Caldera, another day to travel to Caldera's mines (eliminating the Telvanni threat there) and a final day to return to Balmora for much-needed payment. The Telvanni agents who resided within the cave were tough. If Joan hadn't plundered the mine with her guard, there is no way she could have survived.

She meets lots of people as she travels, and engages in plenty of useful conversation. As she makes her social rounds, Joan gets into the habit of always saying something optimistic, cheery, and encouraging to those whom she meets.* Most of the townsfolk she speaks to appreciate her words, only occasionally do they not.

Now, back in Balmora, she is ready to seek whatever notions Sharn gra-Muzgob, the Mages Guild's orc wizard, has to share.

"No. No interruptions!" the orc says upon first meet. "How many times! ... Oh."

"Are you Sharn gra-Muzgob?" Joan suppresses a smile as the scatter-brained orc gives her full attention.

"You are one of Caius's associates?" Sharn asks, not yet answering Joan's question.

"I am," she says quietly, in an effort to keep their conversation secret from other guild members. "And I am here to discuss some potential arrangements from Caius."

"That is a different matter," Sharn says, apparently still scattered in thought. Unlike Joan, Sharn does not speak softly. "Caius and I have a very satisfactory arrangement, and I'm sure we can come to some sort of agreement, if you will complete a little errand for me."

Ah, here it is. "Why sure, an errand, and what sort of errand have we in mind?"

"The errand is very simple. I need the skull of Llevule Andrano."

Joan grimaces at this. A skull this time, not an ornate, golden puzzle box. Now why on Nirn could an orc working within the Mages Guild need her to retrieve the cranium from somebody who is known to be a from local, noble family?

"You'll find the skull in Andrano Ancestral Tomb. But take care not to upset the natives. The Dunmer have some peculiar primitive prejudices against necromancy, and take grave objection to unauthorized tomb visits."

Oh my, thinks Joan Marie, the emerging Blade. -- Dunmer natives? ... Necromancers? .. Tomb visits? -- Though she is not totally proficient against undead at this point, she has had some training. "I do possess a doublet of complimentary magics to turn spectrals, zombies, and fiends," she tells the orc. "Though I haven't the skillset of a master priest or cleric. As such may be, you are in luck." She pauses a moment, consulting with herself. "For I do wish to sojourn, then suss out this set of ruins."

... She decides this firmly and quickly, surprising herself a little. But she's always had a curiosity concerning undead tombs, once risking a visit into Cheydinhal's Undercroft while unattended, and at the age of fourteen. "Where are we to go?" Locating then removing a skull from some submerged, perilous location is not something she's entirely keen on, especially after she learns that Llevule Andrano was some sort of evil enchanter. But otherwise, she is curious about what sort of animated un-life might reside within the ruins of Morrowind? Are they as weak and near-harmless as the ghosts she encountered within Cheydinhal's Chapel of Arkay? ... Slow-moving ghosts which were merely beings to be wary of?

She leanrs that Andrano's tomb is south of Pelagiad, which is just a day's travel on foot.

Sharn gives Joan an enchanted blade, and also some advice. "Some spirits are immune to normal weapons. Here, take this old shortsword. And maybe these old scrolls will come in handy."

The shortsword packs a variety of magic which Joan cannot identify. The orc also hands her four scrolls: two with the power to heal its caster, and two which deal fire damage. Joan is tempted to sell the latter scrolls; money is always something in short supply so far. But then she notices they have an area effect, which means more than one enemy can be affected if she casts and aims properly. Against undead, fire can be a good thing.

She changes her mind about selling the scrolls.

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

15 Heartfire (Day 31)



A day of travel and a day of getting situated in Pelagiad. Finally, Joan feels she is ready for Andrano's Ancestral Tomb. She walks to the place with her trusty Imperial guard, but initially has him wait outside. No need for him to go rushing about, mucking things up.

Once within the tomb she focuses Blessed Touch in her mind; magic from the Conjuration school. This is one of the spells she had learned after a couple years of training. Its purpose is to cause the un-living to turn away from the spell-caster in fear. Even though she has practised this spell many times in the past, and had even used it on a few ghosts underneath Cheydinhal's chapel, she experiences that sodden tinge of worry. That the spell will not work. Whichever ghost or skeleton or bonewalker (as she learns Morrowind's zombies are properly referred as) she touches will not flee.

"I remain resolute with thy graces."

Her footfalls echo softly down Andrano's first set of stairs, while arcane noises and seeming voices of the unseen surround and swell. At the staircase's bottom lies a man. A Dunmer. A former adventurer, perhaps. He died at some point in the recent past, his shield still clutched within his hand.

"I draw upon the graces of Arkay," she says as she readies Blessed Word, which is a targeted version of Blessed Touch. The tomb is lit here and there by magical torches, but lighting is still rather dim. Joan makes a mental note--she will need to buy a Light spell as soon as she can afford one. She remembers that an Altmer back in Caldera's--

Suddenly, an ancestral ghost comes into view! Joan is surprised. The ghost's fascia is so pale, she barely notices it until its cursed visage is right in front of her.

"Gather the presence of Arkay, esprit!"

She touches the ghost, feeling its chilling essence, even through her gauntlets. As the spell passes from her fingertips, she is surprised to see it works! ... It works! ... The ancestral menace before her begins to move away. Joan Marie stands in awe, then realizes she's just possibly made a mistake by letting her guard down. But there are no other enemies nearby. So from this moment, she has a few moments to plan ahead. The acolyte unsheaths her sword, the same sword given to her by the orc back in Balmora. Then, she begins counting.

... twenty ... twenty-one... twenty-two... ....

She counts to thirty in her mind, knowing that the spell's effect has halted by now. She then waits until the damned returns to try fighting her properly. This time, she does not cast another spell; to do so would mean a waste of limited magical resources. Instead, she uses the sword. It only takes two swings before the ghost's spirit perishes. Whatever powers the sword possesses, it is definitely powerful. However, Joan knows the spirit will not stay gone forever. After several days it would reanimate. Has something to do with the way magic works within Ancestral Tombs.

She drinks a cheap potion to regain some of her lost health. Oh yes, she has come prepared with potions, as well.

Before her are several urns, some of which no doubt could contain small amouns of wealth. Joan Marie of Cheydinhal does not disturb these, even out of any sort of curiosity. The deceased should retain whatever belongings they possessed upon death, after all. To remove these would be to place a possible curse upon oneself.

She walks slowly and comes to an intersection, turning left. The corridor she's in curves around. The mystical, imperceptible voices she continues to hear seem disturbed by her presence. They increase their volume as she strides forward. This is truly a place of the occult.

She hears footsteps, and readies her spell again. The corridor makes a sharp right turn, and continues down a second set of stairs. But immediately to her right is a door. The door is not locked, so she opens it cautiously. Inside is a skeleton. An ordinary bag of bones, creaking this way and that. Joan touches it with her spell, and watches as it runs off deeper into the tomb. Again, she counts to thirty. When the skeleton returns, this time Joan readies an iron mace. She smacks and pummels the thing until its tendons fall apart.

Maces are perhaps better when dealing with zombies and skeletons, she'd decided not long ago. Though she's not as skilled with blunt weapons, and it will take some time (months, maybe years) for her to become as effective with them, it's become her goal to start trying new things. She cleans her second new weapon off carefully, before delving deeper.

It takes several more hours, and the final assistance of her guard, before she finds Andrano's skull. Joan breathes sighs of relief, knowing one more task has been completed. After returning to Pelagiad and spending the night there, she meets a strange Dunmer in the street who babbles on about things Joan cannot yet comprehend.

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

Balmora Mages Guild

Fighting Telvanni Agents

Bag of Bones!

"By the presence of Arkay! I turn ye toward the light!"

Pursuing a Bonewalker -- (Looks like she turned the thing, while her guard runs after to take it down)

Llevule Andrano's skull

Lopov'd

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

Notes -- * Joan has Speechcraft as a Major, and I've been selecting Admire a lot as she speaks with shopkeepers, guildmates, random townsfolk, and so on. This skill can be brutal to those who aren't trained as she is, those who spam Speechcraft who haven't got this as a Major skill will quickly find a lot of NPCs hate their character! But with Joan, she mostly does well with words.

With January's current run in Morroblivion, she created a Fortify Personality spell that gives her a +70 bonus for 10 seconds. It does wonders in dialogue. Even if she has to cast it every time she talks to someone.

Skulls and puzzle boxes. I don't think they ever do explain why the various NPCs want these macguffins.

take grave objection to unauthorized tomb visits
I really, really hope the pun there was intentional!

I figured out something in my recent forays into Morrowind/Morroblivion. When you start the game in Seyda Neen, the first thing you should do is head north out of town. You will "meet" the guy with the scrolls of Icarian Flight. He always has an Iron Sparksword. Since it is magic, you can use it to fight ghosts in the nearby tombs.

It is good to see that Joan remains resolute in they graces. January is doing the Imperial Cult quests - my first time ever - thanks you Joan's inspiration. She might do the Imperial Legion quests too. That would make for a good Paladin type, I think.

I never liked the versions of Turn Undead where they run away. You just have to chase them down to kill them. I prefer when Turning means doing damage/destroying all the undead in the area. That is laying down the smack of Arkay!

It sounds like Joan found one of the Sleepers. They are creepy, know that there are people like them just lurking around, possibly anywhere.

Off to Andrano’s tomb!

’Joan is tempted to sell the latter scrolls; money is always something in short supply so far.’
- - I think the below may be part of the above problem:
’Before her are several urns, some of which no doubt could contain small amouns of wealth. Joan Marie of Cheydinhal does not disturb these, even out of any sort of curiosity. The deceased should retain whatever belongings they possessed upon death, after all.’
- - Just teasing. Joan’s sentiment is quite noble.

You did a good job of describing Joan’s progress through the tomb.

And with skull in hand, Joan is mission complete for this ‘favor’.

I have yet to catch up on everything, but it was really great to see that hostile Nord fall to his doom. His frost resistance didn't really help him in that situation. Just like others, it took me a long time to find the puzzle box, my first character who did this quest, was sure that there must be some other area in Arkngthand that we keep missing, so we were desperately looking for doors that'd take us to another cell.

Oh, I totally forgot about those dreams as you begin having as you progress through the MQ. It was neat to include them in the story.

I really hope that you push the MQ with Joanie to the end, even if it'll take years. It's been a long time since I did it (with Haryon) and I'd like to read about it through eyes of another.

With January's current run in Morroblivion, she created a Fortify Personality spell that gives her a +70 bonus for 10 seconds. It does wonders in dialogue.

I'm sure it does, Miss Rosa! ... Personality / Speech can be brutal in this game without some buffs, more brutal than weapon-swing dice-rolls or spells failing to cast. I've had two or three characters so far who want to invest in the in-game Charm spell (whatever it's called) which is hugely expensive. And only those who actually have Speech as a Major should engage in Admire like Joanie does. Otherwise, everyone will hate the character after awhile. As clunky as it is, the Disposition mini-game in OB is a life-saver compared to the way MW does it.

On the other hand, I never thought to look into Fortify Personality. That's what I like about these games; there are more than one way to skin a cat durzog.

-- Getting that sparksword (and the Slowfall scrolls) from that Icarian Flight dude is indeed what some of mine have done. Depending on the character, they'll either sell this loot or keep it.

-- I am glad to hear Joan/me have inspired January/you. Right now my gaming is far ahead of my storytelling. Where I've last seen her is Ebonheart, where Joan specifically walked with her guard so she can start doing the Good Works the Imperial Cult offer, as well as make some more consistent drakes. Plus, Joan has a sadness about all the killing she's been involved in. She knows she's going to engage in more (as she believes this is her calling) but it will also be nice to do some non-hostile quests as well.



This is another "depends on the character" for me. Joan (in Oblivion) has always preferred letting them run away, because she knows they'll eventually come back. Gaming with her in Morrowind, now I know why she does this. As the undead run away, she has time to think about what her next action(s) should be. Of course, if she eventually finds or creates a spell which does damage and causes them to run, so much the better.


Acadian: yes it is a double-edged sword... the fact that holier-than-thou types often go without the extra money which a lot of other adventurers don't blink an eye over. Very true. My other two PC Morrowind Characters (Ana Khannda {Dunmer Archer} and Hera Ticch {Breton Sorcerer}) are always flush with money, for instance. Unless they blow it all in one town, which happens sometimes. This is why it's so awesome to game with different characters; each require their own playstyles from my perspective.



Awesome, Thank you!


Lopov: Yes, I do plan to write the entire Main Quest with Joan. It'll probably take several years. I wish I had done this long ago when I did Oblivion's Main Quest with The Gray Wizard. But I didn't start writing until 2012, as you know.

There are more dreams and adventures to come. Like I said my storytelling is behind my gaming by several weeks.

But also, I'm going to switch to storytelling Skyrim pretty soon; probably after Xmas. So after Joan delivers the skull, that will be her story for 2021.



This post has been edited by Renee: Dec 17 2021, 04:47 PM

Do you save and edit your Morrowind Journal to use as a future reffence as i do.

IMO Morrowind/Tribunal's journal was the best.

Looking forward for more. I wasn't thrilled with Skyrim so let's see if you can pique my interest playing it again.
Do you play original or SE version?

macole: We can edit our own journal, is that what you're saying? ... I do not do this. I write these stories as I'm gaming, and then edit them once or twice afterwards. I do also have a habit of keeping separate Notepad pages on my auxiliary (non-gaming) computer. I have to, with so many characters to keep track of.

I play the original version of Skyrim. I've put too much into Oldrim to suddenly switch to SE, then deal with months of learning curves all over again! But yeah, I'm really eager for some Skyrim writing. Laprima's tale will involve more imagination than Joan's I think, but it's hard to say. I just know her story should be somewhat different.

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

20 Heartfire (Day 36), 3rd Era, Year 427

Hla Oad



The air is warm and the sun's getting low. Over the past few days, Joan and her guard decide they'd like to get to know the southwest portion of Vvardenfell more thoroughly. Learn its terrain, and walk its roads. To do so, they've taken a longer way back to Balmora.

During the days of Heartfire 16 until Heartfire 18, they move from Pelagiad to Seyda Neen. They then approach the tiny Bitter Coast fishing village known as Hla Oad, which they reach on Heartfire 20. Here they spend the rest of the day, chatting and moseying. Hla Oad is Joan's first experience with true Vvardenfellian poverty.

She had grown up an orphan, but a well-cultured, well-trained, well-educated orphan. Up until now, she had only read about Morrowind's more-impoverished areas in books. Reading, of course, is not the same as experiencing.

Everyone in Hla Oad lives in wooden shacks, which frequently appear to be in various states of disrepair. There are no grand, two-story tudors. No pompous displays of paint and decor. No vistas, and no braggarts. But, to be poor does not necessarily mean to be starving. Nobody in Hla Oad (excepting the local Ordinator, perhaps) seems to have any money, yet everyone is well-fed. The village's residents live off the saltwater, which is always a short walk away. Drakes may be few, but fishes and other aquatic forms of sustenance are always plentiful.

As Joan and her guard get to know the place's residents, they eventually hear rumors of a darker side, as well. The nearby coast is known to be a place where illegal smuggling sometimes pervades. The Camonna Tong, Morrowind's most organized criminal element, is also mentioned once or twice. Joan decides she'll keep her eyes watchful after she hears this, as she has read the Tong can occasionally be hostile to outlanders.

Despite these shortcomings, and despite its lack of development, Hla Oad does have charm. Its peoples are rough-talking, tough-living salt-of-Nirn types. Paupers and laborers. Most of them converse with Joan freely on a range of regional subjects. This is one place she thinks she'll not soon forget.

But there is one facet of local society which piques of unexpected predicament.

Here in Hla Oad, there is nowhere for travellers to stay!

No inn! ... No hostel! ... Not even a place to truly trade, well not at first, anyways. No temple or chapel to worship within, which for a devout Heartlands Cyrodiilian like herself seems shocking and bizarre. Before the Imperials had colonized Seyda Neen, Joan thinks that initial hamlet must also once have been in a similar state.

She finally finds a man, a Redguard, whose name is Trasteve. Trasteve barters a few things with her; mostly food. But he dwells within one of Hla Oad's shacks, which he calls Fatleg's Drop Off. Trasteve basically runs the locale's only trading shop, yet he has never bothered to hang any sort of sign on the front of his door. He's not exactly advertizing Fatleg as any sort of business, which strikes Joan as odd.

"Well, perhaps he does not wish to attract strife," she reasons to her guard. "Where active commerce commences, there are drakes. And where there are drakes, there is the possibility of thievery, or banditry. Hla Oad has just one Ordinator to keep regulatings, after all."

"You don't say?"

After trading goods, Joan spends a couple hours talking to Hla's residents. Is there any official place she can stay? No there is not. However, she eventually learns there's a bedroll she can sleep upon, but it's located under the stars, with no awning to keep the rain away. "I have be-fore slept within weather," she assures them, wondering if she should offer some gold. "My well-being, 'tis not of mightly concern, nor cause for seceded attribution."

She says these things to possibly display some humility; she is not to be mistaken for some disrespectful outlander. But the truth is, Hla Oad is a place where nobody has bothered to erect a simple inn, or simple hostel. A facet of piqued and unexpected predicament for Joan of Cyrodiil.

As she strolls to the outdoor bedroll, her guard entertains a few of the village's residents with stories of their recent exploits. Just a few weeks ago, he was once a steady sentry at Fort Moonmoth, yet now he's had his horizons widely broadened, thanks to Joan Marie of Cyrodiil. The sun goes down, and night draws in.

She says a silent prayer, and gets tucked upon the bedroll. Night and stars draw overhead. Tomorrow they'll head off to Caldera, and after another day or two, Balmora. There, she'll gladly deliver the skull wanted by Sharn gra-Muzgob, Balmora's Mages Guild orc. Filching the thing from Andrano's tomb has weighed an onus on her mind these past few days. Perhaps the skull had even influenced her dreams the other night, when she'd had an unsettling nightmare she can't exactly remember. Llevule Andrano's skull. His solid, yet fragile skull. How exactly had she gotten convinced into fetching it?

Thankfully, Joan herself does not carry the wretched thing, instead it's her guard who totes it all the way back to town. She has a few silent words with her makers, before falling off to sleep.

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

Spooky Bitter Coast Swampland

Joanie's guard entertains the locals

Hla Oad's 'outdoor Inn'

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NOTES
* I added the bedroll myself, along with a bunch of other bedrolls and containers in key places. Morrowind Addtions.esp is my first MW mod.

Joan is taking the long way back to Balmora, up the coast, that is. From her perspective she wants to get to know the land. From my perspective, I want to see her gain more experience. Really eager to get to Level 4.

The interesting about traveling with a guard in this game is their dialog choices change, depending where they are. If the guard is somewhere in wilderness, he will only have half the dialog topics compared to if he's in Caldera, for instance. As static as the text dialog can be in this game (every single NPC in the world having the exact same thing to say about the Nerevarine for instance) at least her guard's contracting and expanding topics are interesting.

~~~

I think there are also little rats running around Hla Oad. Not like the big ones that attack you everywhere else in the game. These ones just scurry around under foot. But that might be Gnarr Mok. I get those two places confused.

January felt the same consternation over the lack of a motel the first time she visited the place as well.

What an interesting look into life in a small, isolated village in Vvardenfel.

I see Joan's guard companion is becoming quite the conversationalist.

Well, the good news is she learned quite a bit, had a chance to relax, and it didn't rain on her sleeping bag.

Renee, There are a few mods that allow the player write in-game to the journal with varying degrees of success. What I do is more cumbersome. The journal is a html file (IIRC) with a lot of hyperlinks. I take that file copy it (text only) to a Word doc. Then I edit it by removing all the @ and # so that this:
16 Last Seed (Day 1)
My @orders# are to go to the town of @Balmora# in @Vvardenfell District# and @report# to a man named @Caius Cosades#. To find out where he lives, I should ask in @Balmora# at the cornerclub called @South Wall#. When I find @Caius Cosades#, I must give him a @package# of documents, and wait for @fur#ther @orders#.

becomes this:
16 Last Seed (Day 1)
My orders are to go to the town of Balmora in Vvardenfell District and report to a man named Caius Cosades. To find out where he lives, I should ask in Balmora at the cornerclub called South Wall. When I find Caius Cosades, I must give him a package of documents, and wait for further orders.

It is now a nice little outline of events. Do it often so you don't forget what you do inbetween journal entries. Otherwise you're left with trying to fill in pics, personal thoughts, and other details to a 227 page Word Docx of a journal outline that ran from 2012 to 2017 tracking 893 game days.

This post has been edited by macole: Dec 18 2021, 08:39 PM