Chapter XLV: Considering the Cards


"Excuse me," Joan said to Aradirr. "Might we just take a moment so I may gather my thoughts?"

"As you wish!"

The Breton sipped her drink, ruminating all which had been said by the Dunmer across the table. What exactly was Joan Marie doing, allowing this virtual stranger to engage in what amounted to fortune-telling?

She realized that she'd accepted the seer's card request because it was a way to put off what had been troubling her not long ago. A small chain of events had occurred the moment she ordered her drink, which was why she was sitting here now. For instance, if she hadn't taken those moments to read the Fashion Guild literature which had been placed at her table, perhaps she would've forced herself to pore Cosades's decoded material, instead.

Reading about the guild of Torrid Tarts and Saucy Succubi had caused her to laugh, and appear lighthearted. Which caused Aradirr the Oracle to perhaps feel more welcome to approach the previously-preoccupied woman whose face had been etched with worry. Might I desire a reading of cards to take my mind away from my troubles? Why surely, I would.

Joan took another sip, and noticed: her usually pristine self-centered equilibrium, the balance of her hips, torso, and shoulders, seemed off. Even sitting here upon this chair, she could feel the difference. Maybe it'd been good she'd been interrupted by the elf. She wasn't an experienced drinker. Perhaps she'd be stone-cold drunk by now if she'd continued to slurp her second shein in a row!

Her head still swimmy, she took a few quick moments to consider all which had been said so far by the oracle.

Joan had always been a rather earthbound person, not given to flights of fancy or (let's say) a mage's desire for experimentation. She had exactly four spell-types inscribed within her spellbook for instance, not forty. She'd always been the sort of person who utilizes exactly what she needs. So, not that she was putting any belief into Aradirr's attempts at reading Joan's fortune. But hypothetically speaking (hypothetically speaking), some of what Aradirr revealed did ring some moments of truth.

The card which represented her past, for instance, the Six of Coins. Fact is, Joan had certainly been involved in performing righteous deeds; collecting money for the Imperial Cult so it could eventually assist those in need. She'd done similar acts of kindness back home as well, as part of the congregation of Cheydinhal's Chapel of Arkay.

...And the card which supposedly portrayed her future, The World; the one with the unclothed lady centered inside that wreath of green leaves. What had Aradirr said? ...That, in fact, you shall enter what is to become a brand-new world for you. Something like that. Which was definitely true. If Joan chose to continue the path she was currently striding upon; if she actually DID decide to somehow play the part of a prophet returned to Vvardenfell, certainly it was sounding as though her life would change in some grand way. No doubt about it.

"May we continue?" the Dunmer grinned, eager to plunge.

Joan considered two options. She could simply throw the coin she owed on the table and leave. But she was too curious to see which cards would be turned over next. If anything, it was good to at least think about her present, past, and future, to ponder these facets of time with someone she did not know.

"So, we've glanced the past, and also thy present and future. The next choice is the Card of Consultant." Aradirr turned card number four over. "Usually, this one denotes a sort of answer, to whatever query it is upon the mind. A way to proceed forward, which ties into whatever conclusions are forthcoming."

"Oh," the Cyrodiilic Breton gasped slightly.

"And we have The Hermit."

Joan could see what looked to be a typically-gray, elderly fellow. A wizard perhaps, wearing a hooded gray robe. In his left hand he held a staff, or a walking stick. He carried a lantern with his right.

"Hmm. Perhaps I should explain a few things about the deck, Joan. It is comprised of two sets of cards, actually: Major Arcana and Minor Arcana. The Six of Coins, for instance, is a Minor Arcana card."

"Alright," Joan replied.

"Those from the Minor set mostly consider events, situations, and other such outer happenings. Physical moments which occur as we muck about. And also actual people in our lives, sometimes represented by kings, queens, and pages.

"Conversely, those from the Major Arcana, such as The World and The Hermit, are more concerned about inner states of being. Changes which occur mostly inside of our minds, and inside our hearts. These changes may be brought on through outer events, but it's the inner transitions which are shown by these cards."

"I see."

"The Hermit, like The World, is a Major Arcana card. As stated, this is your card of consultant, often regarded as an answer to unspoken questions. The Hermit lives on his own, by himself upon the top of the mountain portrayed beneath his feet. This mountain he stands upon represents life experience. He is wise, he's got wisdom on his side, which is portrayed by the lantern he's carrying. This lantern, it is insight, it is inspiration, you see? Yet he shares it with no one. And feels as though he's no longer a part of society.

"Not to say you are exactly within this frame of mind, Joan. You are sitting right here in this bar, after all, amongst lots of others. You are also young. But what I am saying: concerning whatever's troubling you, whatever it was I saw upon thy face not long ago, THAT is what is being borne, all alone. You may have experienced a few things beyond your years. Not to pry, but I can sense this onus you're carrying. But... The Hermit is not just about antisocial wisdom. Quite often, you may find it necessary to remain in such a state, as you embark into whatever new things are to come. You may find it necessary to draw upon this lonely wisdom at times. This shall become the beacon carried as you hasten forward."

Joan seemed stunned. "But ... so ... ehm... how? I mean, you and I have just met," she blurted. "We are literal strangers, you and I. How is it you know of these things?" Was the elf somehow in cahoots with Caius, and whatever folks were cavorting unseen?

"I do not know of them," Aradirr countered. "I do not know you. But I do know my cards. Would you like to see what comes next?"

Joan nodded.

"Next card represents the Attitudes of Others. Significant others in your life, that is, and how they'll influence as this phase of life unfolds.

Aradiir turned card number five over, making a face once she saw what was revealed.

"Oh no," Joan said. "Three swords piercing a heart? I do not gather this one's any good."

"It's the Three of Swords. As can be seen, it's a rather grim card, of course, very obvious with its meaning. However, this card is in a reversed position. Which means it is upside-down, from your perspective."

Joan could see this. The numeral "3" was represented in the old Imperial manner, so 'III' instead of '3'. But this number was at the bottom of the card, not its top. "Looks rather grim, I'd certainly concur."

"Well, since the card is upside-down, this changes the way things are to be interpreted. Normally, Three of Swords is all about strife. Loneliness. Disappointment, and so on. However, here we have a different interpretation of such things, due to that inverse position. Which means somebody, or some persons significant within thy life, have not necessarily disappointed or caused harm in some great way...

"But I'd take this one as a warning, Joan. Whomever it is that's involved with whatever's on your mind, it's advised to remain cautious around this person, or these persons."

Joan couldn't help but immediately think of Caius, of course. She'd been working with lots of people so far here in Vvardenfell, from two separate guilds, and two Imperial factions. But this was about Caius! -- Caius... and whoever was really ordering her around the province with these mysterious instructions.

"Next card represents a potential obstacle, something which may hinder progress. And here we have Temperance, which is again in a reversed position."

The crusader could see what looked to be a glorious setting: a winged man, an angel perhaps, pouring what looked to be water from one cup to another.

"I am going to turn this card upright," the seer said, "so that you may take in Temperance's full glory. Notice these things: the figure in Temperance is pouring fluid from one goblet to another, but note that this fluid is defying gravity. Instead of dripping straight from one cup and into the pond below, it is pouring sideways.

"And this represents some sort of mastery, you see? Even our attempts at telekinesis via Mysticism magic has never been able to cause fluid to pour in such a way. Also, the angel's right foot is dipping into the pond below, while the other stays firmly on land. Usually, all of this portrays somebody who is exemplary at coordinating several things at once."

Several things at once, Joan Marie's mind echoed. Not that she was giving full stock to any of this, but 'several things at once' is what her entire life had become, over the past few months.

"We have the four universal elements well-illustrated upon this card, Joan: The sun rising is Fire, which is our spiritual, unseen side. The angel's wings are mastery with Air, mastery of thoughts, that is.. The pond and the goblet being poured displays Water, which are emotions and feelings. And all of these symbols would not be complete without the ground under the angel's feet, and the mountains, which espouse Earth. Our physical being, which we use to navigate our world.

"However..." Aradirr turned the card so it was upside-down again. "Temperance is reversed. It is also in the position pertaining to an obstacle. So, the meaning is clear. To remain within the boundaries of wisdom and steadfastedness," she pointed to The Hermit, "and step into what shall be a brand-new world," she pointed to Joan's 'future' card, "you must avoid being distracted from unfortunate combinations. In other ways of saying: Keep thy head upon straight," Aradirr elucidated. "Do not become overwhelmed as a number of facets are faced."

Joan nodded.

"And now, the final card, the Outcome. Whatever is here shall be our entire conclusion, regarding all which have been discussed." The elf turned the one which resided to Joan's lower right over. "The Hanged Man... eek!"

Eek, indeed. The Hanged Man showed man who was hanging, except he'd been noosed from his foot, not his neck. He was, in fact, hanging upside-down.

"Hope this does not mean I shall someday soon be strung from my ankle!"

Aradirr laughed. "No worries about such things, Joan. Aye, the man on the card has been placed into what some may consider to be a precarious, uncomfortable position. But notice the look upon his face: it is serene, not filled with angst. And notice this also: he's got a halo surrounding his entire head."

"And what does this mean, Aradirr? I gather there's more insightments? More elucidations?"

"Aye, splendid, Joan of Cyrodiil, but there's more. - This card portrays what happens when the events which occur within our lives cause us to completely reverse those things which we've previously regarded to be as most sacred. Most trustworthy. Most expected. Our habits, our viewpoint on life, all of those things are to change, Joan. Seeing life from a new perspective, usually in some opposite way as before. The halo around his head, like the lamp being carried by The Hermit, indeed represents enlightenment, and possibly inspiration."

And Joan could see this. Not that she was putting any faith into a bunch of painted cards, but the things the seer was speaking of could definitely become true. If she were to actually follow the instructions given to her by Caius; if she were to head off to Urshilaku Camp and pretend to be the long-lost prophet returned to grace, and assuming these Ashlanders actually believed her somehow, certainly her entire 'viewpoint on life' would be 'seen from a new perspective ... usually in some opposite way'.

Aradirr and Joan spent another hour or so, discussing further things about their lives late into the night. The seer ordered a drink of her own, while Joan chose to abstain from more liquor. Eventually, it was time to go.

The seer had asked seven drakes for the reading. Joan Marie gave her twenty.

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

Notes: The interesting, almost unique thing about this reading is that the entire left side of the horseshoe (6 of Coins to the Hermit) are rightside-up. The entire right side of the spread is upside-down. Even The Hanged Man, which is technically upright, portrays a figure who is upside-down. Obvious overall rhythm here: the things to come are going to totally flip my 'toon's world.

This post has been edited by Renee: Jul 8 2023, 06:33 AM

Joan slurp her shein? Arkay forbid!

I liked how you put all the meanings of the cards into context with one another, rather than just take them separately. I am sure Joan will indeed need to keep her head on straight during what is to come.

Like its predecessor, I found this episode fascinating. Aradirr seems pretty good at what she does. Joan is right to be skeptical, but wise to at least consider some of the implications of this reading. She is also wise in that she stops her libations, and generous in overpaying her seer.

Is it okay the story took a detour away from the main plot?

I suppose you know my answer! With what Lena Wolf is getting up to... Of course it's Ok! It's what makes your story your story and not just another retelling of the Morrowind Main Quest.

Funnily enough, I didn't realise the card reading wasn't a part of Bethesda's version until I nearly got to the end of the second episode! So that's the proof - it fits!

For those of us who know the main plot already, the enjoyment of the story comes only from watching how a different character handles the same situations. Going off the main plot means we also get brand new situations, to go with the new character handling it in their own unique fashion. So it is a two thumbs up!

Someone once said:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

For the longest time I misread and misunderstood what Frost was saying. It was a few years ago during a Kentucky Bourbon Trail lighting run (9 distilleries in three days) that I came to understand what was being alluded to. Someone had set the GPS device to avoid highways. Traveling dirt roads that wound their way around hills and valleys took three times longer to drive from one distillery to the next but the beautiful Kentucky countryside we saw made the trip memorable. In other words, unless you make the choice now and then to venture into realms unknown, the well beaten path may be comfortable, but it can become flat and boring. So, I echo, for the divergence.

Guild of Torrid Tarts and Saucy Succubi, I need to get back to Vvardenfell.

Thanks for the explanation on Minor vs Major Arcana. I hadn't been clear on that.

So this matches up pretty well with what little I do know regarding Tarot; namely, that it doesn't deal in certainties but more like... probabilities? At any rate, it gives Joan a lot of food for thought. Her life definitely will be uprooted if she continues on her quest.

Regarding the Hermit: Describes the Nerevarine's position pretty well. They have to draw on a lot of inner strength. Yes, they must also work with others, but figuring out who those others should be is a pretty big part of the job.

Regarding the Three of Swords: it could be Caius she has to be careful with. But I could also see it as being Almalexia or even Dagoth Ur (given Dagoth's interest in the Nerevarine).

Regarding Temperance: Clearly, this means avoiding too many side-quests. Maybe in a more narrative-focused sense, it just means that the Nerevarine must stay focused.

Regarding the Hanged Man: Yeah, fulfilling an ancient prophecy will indeed completely rearrange one's beliefs (even if one doesn't believe in the prophecy per se).

We all know the storyline to Morrowind, so there's certainly no harm in deviating from it.

Hey, thanks all for taking the time with answers. Those are good points: the story of these quests are Beth's stories, but what really makes them unique are what we add on our own. Funny thing: I hadn't really even thought of it in such a poignant way.

Now... ugh. I'm going to need to take a break from writing for a while. Mostly due to real-life midlife crisis stuff which has been weighing quite a bit.
Anyway, thanks all for your participation in this thread, and others who have helped me along when I get stuck with this or that. Maybe I'll return to this story later in the summer. If not, at least it ends in a way so that it feels sort of complete, in a way.

I'll continue to be here at Chorrol and read your all's stories, including yours Lena, although maybe I'll keep comments to myself for a while just because I really want to catch up to where you're at now.

macole: So that's how GPS works! No wonder when I went to Jersey a couple years ago I wound up in some backwoods countryside almost about to faceplant while driving over one-lane bridges. In any event, using the "Shortest Distance" feature to navigate definitely does not mean using the "shortest time" quotient. Ah, well.

Clavier: Yes, Tarot deals with probabilities, as do a lot of diviniation techniques. In the olden days it seems whenever the Death card showed up for instance, that *Oh no, you're gonna die!* was the immediate interpretation, and there's no choice at all in the matter. But life is not like that. We often have choices to follow. Tarot cards (astrology, etc.) are merely a good way to see more clearly what's going on.

And wow, very nice interpretation of the cards on your own. See, that makes me smile. Really need to just smile and relax and *everything's gonna be alright*, as my father used to say. And check out some Outlanders later on.


Thanks again folks, and as always, have some

This post has been edited by Renee: Jul 15 2023, 04:36 PM

Renee, sorry you're struggling with life a bit right now. One really nice thing about fanfic is that you can do it however/whenever you want and go in any direction you want and, especially here at chorrol, there are folks you can always count on for support and friendship regardless. When you wanna write, you gotta write; when you don't, no worries. We're patient.

I am sorry to hear you are dealing with life issues right now. I hope you can get things sorted out, and get back to a happier state. In the very least, we will always be here to help you blow off steam and forget about the rest of the world for at least a few minutes.

Real life just always gets in the way, doesn't it. So now it's your turn, Renee. Hang in there! It will blow over! No matter how big a storm, unless you are standing right next to an Oblivion gate, it will be over!

Renee, I am saddened to hear that RL pressures have gotten you down. To brighten-up your day, a bouquet of one of my favorite daylilies from my flower garden.

Daylilies are beautiful flowers. A single bloom only last a day. It closes up overnight to be replaced by the opening of a new bud the next morning.

A local witch once told me that at the end of the day just before sunset if you whisper your troubles into an open flower by morning the flower will have closed up sealing the painful event away and a new bloom, free of pain, will have opened to greet you.

Hopefully, your troubles pass as swiftly as a daylily flower and are soon replaced with the opening of a new trouble-free day.

Hey, sorry to hear that RL's getting in the way. That's something every writer's familiar with (I certainly am). Creativity is a great fallback to have, though. Even if we can't control the world around us, we can control the little worlds we create, and there's a strength in that.

Rest assured, we'll be here waiting for the further adventures of Joan and Laprima.

Thanks everyone. I'll come back at some point. Writing doesn't wreck my entire week, but it does take a good many hours and we're all getting older and all of that. If I actually make it to retirement age I'll have all the time I want. That won't happen for over a decade though.

Anyway, I'm figuring some things out, my therapist and I, that is. Hopefully by September I'll return full force.

6 Rain's Hand (Day 234) late morning, 3E 428





Fresh from learning her fate from the seer in Balmora, Joan of Arkay felt ready to continue her journey into whatever was to come, and headed north. But before she did so, she made sure to study the accounts and journals given to her by Caius; the ones which stated matter-of-factly what her new mission in life was to be. And though she did not fully agree with what the Emperor supposedly had in store for her, she felt eager to traipse forward. Because perhaps she could somehow make sense of all of this nonsense. ... She? ... The Nerevarine prophet? Hmph. She would plunge forthwith anyhow, perhaps hoping to make her new world a better place.

It took several days for the crusader to arrive at Urshilaku Camp. The scout in Maar Gan had given her some directions, telling her to head East, not North. But this route would've taken her through what looked to be more danger than necessary. At the very least she'd pass right by the foot of the Red Mountain. With her luck, this meant there'd be at least one storm full of ash along the way.

Instead, she chose to walk from Maar Gan to Ald Velothi. From there, she headed to Khuul. She bade her new Dunmer bowgirl goodbye inside of Khuul's tradehouse, promising to return in a few days. Joan would be water-walking for the rest of the trip, and unless her follower wanted to do a lot of swimming, she'd better stay behind.

After striding over seawater during most of Rain's Hand 5, Joan got lucky; discovered an abandoned shipwreck which had smashed upon the coast. Perfect place to spend the night! After dispatching a skeleton which resided within the boat's upper hull, there was nothing to interrupt her sleep. Since the boat had nested itself upon the shore on an angle, Joan Marie needed to prop her bedroll in such a way that she wouldn't roll within its cabin while she slept.

According to the scout, Urshilaku was somewhere east of a Daedric city called Assurnabitashpi, which Joan walked safely by the next day. As she did so, she spied one huge daedric monster from a distance which looked like an enormous walking eggplant. What the Nine is that?

The daedra. This was a subject which, sometime soon, she'd need to begin studying. Joan had read about Cyrodiil's daedric minions in an academic way: the daedroth, the dremora, the scamps, and xivali, but didn't know much about what Vvardenfell had to offer. This was because so far, she hadn't much need to approach any of their ancient cities or temples.

And hopefully she wouldn't need to...

Finally past Assurnabitashpi, Joan began to edge closer to shore.

The air was pleasant. Here, the beach was silty and gray. She strode upon it a while, still heading east, until she thought she heard the sounds of those hanging wooden tubes (chimes?) Ashlanders sometimes placed outside of their yurts. As breezes blew the tubes around they made distinctive clinking noises. Seems she might be in the right place.

Yes, she'd found the camp. Climbed a small hill, and here it was. "There is someone watching me," she overheard a male villager say, "I can tell."

Urshilaku consisted of the usual assortment of stands, yurts, and earthen decorations. It was similar in size (and atmospherically) to Erabenisum, that camp which’d been in the middle of that horrible ash storm, where that somewhat clueless Breton researcher had gotten trapped up by an Ashlander witch.

"I don't have a lot of patience, outlander," said a Dunmer matron wearing colorful clothes.

"And ye needn't possess basketfuls of such, as I come in peace," Joan stated. "I am Joan, of Cyrodiil, as you may've gleaned from my accented words. I presume this is Urshilaku?"

"This is Urshilaku camp, outlander," the matron confirmed.

May Dibella guide my path. This next stint would be sensitive, requiring a delicate approach. Joan had memorized the names of the camp-dwellers she was to speak to, but made a show of consulting her journal, anyway. "I am here to suss either Sul-Matuul or Nibani Macsa," she said, keeping her eyes cast downward as a show of respect.

"Hmm. Have you a small kwama egg for me?" the Ashlander asked slyly.

And in fact, Joan did have one. "Would you like it?" Joan asked. "I understand eggmines can be quite distant at times."

"Ah, these are quite tasty," the Dunmer matron said, looking forward to not having to scrounge for her next meal. And it was because of this moment of generosity on Joan's part that the matron confirmed the two tribal members she'd been sent to speak with were here, at the camp.

After awkwardly searching several yurts, her pale (yet somewhat tanned, after all she'd been spending plenty of time outdoors) skin glowing pink everytime she overtly blushed while making small social blunders, she finally found Sul-Matuul. "I don't have a lot of patience for questions, outlander," the Nerevarine Cult's supposed guardian huffed. The elf then surrounded himself with shielding magic; Joan could see the magic's purple essence swirling all around him.

She took a breath. Silently channeled Dibella into her thoughts while activating the magical belt she wore. This belt contained magic which would assist her persuasion attempts further. But none of this mattered. Sul-Matuul immediately told Joan she should leave! -- After a few additional attempts the guardian drew his weapon (a large, magical broadaxe), causing the crusader to vacate his premises.

It took another couple hours. Joan jabbered to several other camp-dwellers, all who wanted 'small gifts' from her, usually a handful of coin. Finally, she met Kurapli, the camp's trader. It was this trader who explained a way in.

"You want to speak with Sul-Matuul and Nibani Macsa? I doubt that this is possible. You are an outlander. You have no permission to speak with them." But then the trader confided: "I suggest you speak with the gulakhan Zabamund."

"Gulakhan Zabamund," Joan repeated.

"His yurt is just across from mine. With a recommendation from a sub-chief like Zabamund, Sul-Matuul might be more willing to speak with you."

Zabamund, like several others Joan met, wanted drakes. But not just a handful. He would only accept a hundred pieces, and not a coin less. Even after the money was paid, the sub-chief balked to accept Joan's presence. It was only after a few more moments of clever banter the elf finally gave in.

"You have no standing among us, outlander," she said, "but you speak well...So I will explain. It is against our customs that an outlander should speak to an ashkhan or wise woman."

"Graces, sera," Joan replied. "'Tis of mighty importance that a mere acolyte from the central province of Tamriel must do so, and posthaste, as the matter provides."

"I'll tell you also that Sul-Matuul has no love for outlanders," warned Kurapli the trader.

As if that wasn't obvious enough. Still, armed with this new bit of advice, her boots by now filthy with ash, Joan finally felt as though she had the information necessary to cause some final progress.

"Filthy s'wit," the ashkhan Sul-Matuul muttered a few minutes later, after Joan re-entered his yurt. Though still grouchy, at least the elf had deactivated his magical shield. Nor was he brandishing his huge, magical broadaxe.

"I come in peace, sera," Joan began, looking downward once again. "That we might arrange to discuss some very urgent matters..."

It was at this very moment that she realized she'd made a crucial mistake: all this time, she'd been talking to these suspicious, distrustful Ashlander elves while wearing her Imperial armor!


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

Urshilaku Camp (map)

Joan in the northern Ashlands

Striding into the Camp

Sul-Matuul - *shudders* The guy creeps me out.

Societal Sundown (Notice she's changed into common clothes... oops!)

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

Notes: 1). Joanie had to sell a bunch of items and bribe several camp members with commodities or gold. When she finally spoke to the sub-chief he wanted a hundred drakes. Joan paid this money, and then successfully Admired him (phew) so that his Disposition toward her was 80!

All those times I've been clicking on the Persuasion option, and we're talking in the thousands by now, finally, all those clicks paid off!

2). My crusader found a safe place to store all her armor: her Imperial Steel Cuirsass, Imperial Templar Greaves, Steel Boots, and Iron Gauntlets, though she still has her weapons and her Blessed Shield. Now, she's down to her regular common clothes and bare feet. In the next chapter we'll see if this wardrobe change makes any difference.

Ah yes, I remember the social rituals of small (not) gifts and the importance of proper clothing. Good going, Joan!

Joanie is off into the unknown, if not embracing her fate, at least looking upon it with curiosity.

Ah, she is doing the trick of water walking to avoid the dangerous spots. Some of my characters used to do that in Oblivion to go back and forth between the IC and Leyawiin, walking or swimming all the way up and down the river.

Thankfully Joan has done her homework relating to Ashlander customs, and is ready with bribes gifts to smooth the way.

And it still ends the same way as usual, being unceremoniously thrown out! I always find the Ashlanders to be endlessly exasperating.

We'll see if Joanie's thread selection changes anything.

Welcome back, and glad you’re able to find a bit of time for sharing Joan’s story.

So Joan has an elven bowgirl, albeit a Dunmeri one.

Urgh, the only thing Ashlanders have going for them is that they’re no more pompous and hateful to outsiders than Dunmer from any of the major houses.

Joan has the patience of Arkay to play their games. I hope her Imperial armor is not going to be a large further impediment.

Good to see this again!

I liked Joan's idea of water-walking to Urshilaku. It's a good example of how the game rewards unconventional thinking, since the shoreline provides an orientation marker for her. She's also less likely to be attacked.

And once in Urshilaku Camp, she has to go about the business of gift-giving and proving herself all over again. The Ashlanders do not trust easily, and having a good reputation among the regular Dunmer doesn't mean anything to them.

The bit at the end was great. Morrowind makes a surprisingly big deal about what you wear, and Joan belatedly realizes that donning the armor of the Empire makes it a lot harder to win over the anti-Empire Ashlanders.