Each event is preceded by prophecy, but without the event, there is no hero.

In the waning years before the end of the third era of Tamriel, a prisoner was born on an uncertain day, from uncertain parents. To most, she was ignorant of the role she was to play in that country's coming history.

"They have taken you from the Cyrodiil prison, first by carriage, then by boat. To east and to Morrowind. Fear not, for you shall be watched. You shall be chosen... "

16th of Last Seed, 3rd Era, Year 427



..."Wake up!"....

The lady from Cyrodiil squinted her eyes. Someone was peering at her through the gloom.

"Wake up!" said the voice. The voice of a Dunmer, for sure. "Why are you here?" asked the voice. "Are you with us?"

The smell of rotted wood permeated the air. The lady felt a gentle rocking as she got up off the floor. She wrinkled her face. Was she on a boat?

"That's right, stand up," said the voice. And now that she was standing, the lady could see she had been spoken to by a Dunmer. "You were dreaming," he said in a gravelly voice. "What's your name?"

"Joan. Of Cyrodiil," said she.

"Well, not even last night's storms could wake you," he replied. "I heard them say landfall was made last night." He was standing before her without a shirt on, Joan could see. "We've reached Morrowind, I'm sure and certain they will let us go."

"Who ... shall let us go?" Joan was bleary.

"Quiet. Here comes the guard."

An Imperial soldier was approaching from somewhere up deck. Joan could hear his footsteps clonking along. He made his way down a set of stairs on the far side of the boat, and toward the Dunmer and Joan.

"This is where you get off," said the Imperial with a regal sort of voice. "Now. Come with me."

Joan hesitated, trying to remember what happened. Why she was .... here ... on this boat. And not on the boat with the others. The others from Cyrodiil.

"You'd better do what they say," warned the Dunmer with no shirt.

"Hoy there," Joan called to the guard. "Have I been placed into some manner of custody?"

"You'd better do what they say," warned the Dunmer with no shirt, for the second time.

So Joan did. She followed the Imperial through the ship's dim lower hull. Noticed hammocks, crates, and barrels. She then walked cautiously up the ship's ladder, giving one last look back to the far alcove, where she'd awoken a few moments ago. Finally, she moved through the ship's mid-deck hold, which was brighter and a tad more pleasant than its lower section. Candles, and places to eat.

"Get yourself up on deck and lets keep this as civil as possible," the Imperial growled.

"Yessir," Joan answered. "Ehm. Perhaps this is a case of mistaken identity," she spoke to the Imperial, but didn't dare look at him. She said a quick prayer to superior powers before climbing upon the ship's upper deck.

mid-afternoon
Unsure what had happened, Joan was expecting she was about to walk from the ship's inside straight into some sort witch hunt. She'd walk on deck, and be surrounded by accusers, or some such. Because that's the way she felt, at the moment. Things were not right. She was in some sort of trouble, perhaps. Had to be mistaken identity, though. Had to be.

But this was not the case. Her fears would be allayed.

"This is where they want you," said a man, a Redguard, who was standing ondeck. "Head down to the dock and into the census office."

At this point, Joan noticed three things at once.

1). She was not under any sort of arrest. This was obvious, since she was not bound.

2). She was not about to be accused of anything.

3). She had made it to Vvardenfell.

Joan had boarded the wrong boat, for sure. But she had also successfully made it to her destination, somehow. The weather was balmy. She could see gigantic mushroom trees standing way off in the distance. Finally, the silt strider standing off to the side of whatever town she was in made this area no mistake. Only one place on Tamriel could support those types of flora.

"But what has happened to the others? Where are the rest of my priory?" she asked.

"Let's go," said the Redguard impatiently, ignoring her concerns. "Move it along."

She began to move off the boat. Onto a small bridge, which led to a dock, which led to a Tudor-styled building. So this was Vvardenfell, but the town she was in had Imperial influence. A second guard greeted her as she neared him. Unlike the others so far, he seemed pleasant, maybe even pleased to see Joan.

"You finally arrived but our records don't show from where," he said.

"Cyrodiil. Cheydinhal, as a fact of matter. I am Joan from Cheydinhal."

"Great," the guard said in his pleasant voice. "I'm sure you'll fit right in. Now follow me up to the office."

Joan did so, slowly. If the others did not make it, did this mean her quest within Vvardenfell would not be granted?

"Head on in," said the guard, and so Joan of Cheydinhal did so. It was not as though she really had any choice in the matter.

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

Joan of Arkay Chargen Sheet

Joan in Seyda Neen

This post has been edited by Renee: Oct 6 2021, 12:46 AM

I am glad to see you back to posting more. I hope that means you are on the mend and feeling better.

Poor Joanie is unclean. I blame Chachi...

Caius is not much help. He seems to be pretty rigid and unable to adapt to changing conditions, such as Joanie's uncleanness.

I was thinking the same as Joan about using the Guild of Mages public transit system. Too bad we don't have that IRL.

Well, at least Joan has a clear path forward now, and maybe at least some way of dealing with her uncleanness.

Great discussion with Caius Cosades. Doesn't it feel like Caius knew you'd come back infected all along. Then there's Fast Eddy, he's something else too.

It is good to see your story. I hope you are progressing with your rehab.

Joan Marie marred by corpus - hopefully the Telvanni aren't too much of a hassle!


Tis funny... reading Joan's saga here lately gave me the final push I needed to take another crack at Morrowind, and I've been having a blast with it. My Nerevarine, Drathas, is only just a bit ahead of Joan in the main story. He's currently doing odd jobs for various factions to level up a bit. The Path of the Incarnate quest was a reality check on how underprepared Drathas is!

it's Saturslay I think. Yep. Saturday the 26th. Cool. For a long time I lost track of which day it is. Whaddowegot?

Ya she leaves her shoes behind still, Acadian, glad you caught that.

Yes... UNCLEAN!!!!!!!!!! pretty sure that's from some movie. Chaaaachi? As in Joanie loves Chachi? -- Omg that goes way back to fourth grade.

I agree; too bad we can't teleport (yet) though I bet that'll be Elon's next trick. My Jeep is in the shop as I type this-- would be nice to just teleport to the grocery store most of all. Anyway... Yes it's time for Joan to become CLEAN.

Yes macole, Caius's lack of reaction to our character's condition was glaring to me and to Joan, and so I wAnted to capture that.

The Telvanni chapters didn't go entirely smoothly, Kane; From what I recall, Joan got in a fight with someone she shouldn't have and so on... Let's find out. I wrote these chapters in April and May and don't remember stuff 100%, etc.

I love that I've inspired you to try MW again. Use only your Major skills for weapons & magic is my main advice, at least early on. And pay attention to Stamina. As long as it's near-full, you'll connect more often during combat and also cast spells more successfully without fizzles. Don't just run everywhere, that's what kills Stamina.

This post has been edited by Renee: Jul 26 2025, 07:40 PM

Chapter LVIII -- Divayth Fyr

14 Mid Year (Day 303) early morning



Getting to the Corprusarium meant traveling to Tel Fyr, a Telvanni tower located on an island southeast of Sadirth Mora, far to the east of Balmora. Though such a journey sounds tedious, especially for somebody suffering a disease, all Joan had to do after leisurely planning her trip was (after a frantic search for Fast Eddie) was to start by walking from Balmora's Guild of Fighters to the Guild of Mages (literally next door) and then teleport to the Guild of Mages in Sadirth Mora, hundreds of miles away. There were no boats for hire on this island unfortunately, so she water-walked to the island of Tel Fyr itself, followed by her trusty pack guar. As expected, it took a few days and hours to find Tel Fyr, walking stolidly over water, fighting occasional crabs and cliff racers, and so on. The Telvanni tower she finally located on the forlorn island was not an intimidating structure at all, as Daedric ruins or old Dunmer forts always were. Still, she hesitated entry, planning what to wear, setting up camp with her guar, and so on. The Telvanni tower on the island comprised a collection of podlike structures joined by tubes and elbows. After dallying a bit outside, Joan made her way into the tower, as the low-grade fever within her soul continued to simmer. Because that was the thing about this disease; other than recoloring her skin,it didn't necessarily have much effect upon her physical person (not yet, anyway), its symptoms mostly occurred deeper within. Chances are if she'd delayed this trip for instance, her body would eventually begin aching as well. After X amount of time she'd be deformed and fragile just like Dagoth Gares had become. Toughest part of the final, water-striding portion of the trip was aiming herself somewhat southeast while on land, judging the direction she'd need from shadows on the ground, and then walking off whatever beach she stood upon, passing by numerous inlets and by several smaller islands, looking for a tower with only a vague description from the locals. She became lost at least a couple times, but not frustratingly so.



But Joan by then had become quite the accomplished adventurer. She located Tel Fyr after just two attempts and less than two days, for instance. Compare this to the multiple days needed to locate the tower of Vas several months ago.

First thing she did upon arrival was removed her Imperial Legion armor, replacing it with commoner's clothing. She also left her magical shield behind; chances are she would not need it? This journey should be a peaceful endeavor, in theory, so she hoped. But also, by now she'd become well aware that many Dunmer deep into Vvardenfell were not impressed, sometimes offended, by Imperialistic armor. She also double-checked her belongings, making sure the Dwemer "Coherer", the "gift" for Divayth Fyr which Caius had given her, was transferred from her guar to her rucksack, along with a thousand drakes. These, she'd eventually present to the man who could hopefully then cure Joan from corprus.

"My time is precious so make it quick!" a female Dunmer spellsword wearing bonemold snapped at the crusader, just after entering the tower. Aye, a tower; and a Telvanni tower at that. Its inside walls were intricately carved in many sections, its coloring golden; not the typical mass of organic, lichen-like material most other structures of Azura's Coast had been constructed from, yet its origins also did not seem Dwemer. Paper lanterns hung from the ceiling, making what would otherwise be a virtual cave into a well-illuminated experience.

"I am Joan of Cyrodiil," the crusader began, "sussing to confer with Divayth Fyr, in regards to the disease I now carry," she finished, pointing to her petulantly palored face. Might as well be completely upfront about why she's here.

Despite the gravity of her statement, the spellsword couldn't help but get a bit cheeky. "He's up above in his study. I hope you can fly!" she added with a haughty laugh. "You can't get up there unless you can fly. Or have potions."

Not a problem for Joan of course, who had already acquired the spell of Levitation from Heem-La, the Argonian Spellmaker of Ald'ruhn's Guild of Mages. She might fail to cast this spell a time or two (as it was still a bit advanced for her middling abilities at Alteration), but she also had plenty of potions to quaff for recovering magicka, if so.

Joan walked deeper into the complex, in which other inhabitants echoed the same information as the spellsword. "We get few visitors here," said another highbrow Telvanni, also female, wearing bonemold. "You CAN levitate, can't you...?"

Joan remained patient, her face stoic. "I had that very spell scribed into my book several weeks ago, aye." No eye-rolling or knitted brows, at least externally.

"I'm afraid we aren't set up to accommodate barbarians or peasants," the woman then said, implying the Crusader from Cyrodiil might be some swill-drinking marauder in the habit of cracking bottles upon her skull, or had shown up to Tel Fyr without money. "Go up the ramps to the Hall of Fyr, then walk around. Keep looking upwards until you see a shaft above you. Then levitate. Lord Fyr should be in his study."

Finally! -- These directions, however, surprised Joan Marie. Keep looking upwards....? What kind of strange place had she wandered into?

Joan complimented the woman, earning a respectable reply. She followed instructions. Walked up a ramp and turned a corner, and through the door to the Hall of Fyr. Once inside the hall she began looking ... upwards. Feeling a bit silly while doing so. Fortunately, she didn't need to explore very far; the very first chamber she entered had a very obvious 'tube' which ascended into what looked to be a higher section.

"Right."

Joan raised her arms and focused her mind for a few moments. It'd been several days since she'd previously cast this spell. Levitation is a demanding bit of magic for her; about half the time she'd tried it in the past, the spell fizzled. But now she got it right, first time. Purple essences surrounded her being as she gestured her hands. Two seconds later she was floating upward.



"He's in his study," yet another woman wearing bonemold directed once Joan emerged at the top. "But he's busy," she added with a scowl. "He's always busy." This madam seemed annoyed by the newcomer's arrival, yet she also seemed surprised. Probably not every day that a pale-faced Breton shows up in here, ballooning her way to the top!

"May the rest of thy morning evanesce into a glorious day," Joan graced the short-tempered woman with complimentary words she did not entirely deserve.

"I'll take that as a compliment," Short Temper smiled.

After an entire year of speaking inspirational quips and tidbits to the various citizens and natives she'd encountered, Joan Marie had become quite effective with words. Her abilities to persuade and please and even entertain others had become nearly bard-like at times, despite her shyness.

Joan stumbled around the upper tower without finding the so-called study, fearing she might need to fly even higher into an attic. Meanwhile, the air up here was humid and stuffy, causing her some shortness of breath. Fortunately, she found Divayth Fyr soon afterward. The man wore some of the most exquisite armor Joan had ever seen; obviously a very important Dunmer.

"Quickly outlander, I haven't much time!" Fyr greeted impatiently. As though his demand to assist others with dreadful diseases had risen to monumental echelons as of late. The sorcerer's den he commanded contained expensive-looking tomes, and was decorated with rare items upon its shelves, but nobody else was here!

"I have come from afar to offer you this," Joan said, handing over the rarity, the Dwemer "Coherer" given to her by Caius.

Right away, Cosades's idea of a gift appeared to be a mixed decision. Divayth coveted the treasure with immediate intensity, stating he'd add it to his 'collection' right away. - Yet he was also suspicious of Joan's intent. "So, why have you tried to butter me up?" he questioned grandly. "Come to consult the great Divayth Fyr? Have you the divine disease? Want to plunder my dungeon? Or leer at my daughters?"

Ever the pious individual, Joan insisted she's not here to pick his brain, invade his dungeon, or (gasp!) leer at his kin. "As can be seen, I am infected with corprus." Is this really not so obvious? - All across Vvardenfell folks had been instructing her to "stay away from me"! as her affliction could plainly be seen. Nobody wanted to catch "whatever you have". Yet here was finally a man who could supposedly provide a cure, and he did not seem so concerned about her "divine disease".

"Did you know corprus makes you immune to disease?" the sorcerer inquired.

In true Vvardefellian fashion, he then began rambling about the prophecies of the Nerevarine, and how the Ashlanders seem awed that their supposed prophet was said to be unable to catch diseases. "Maybe I even have the Nerevarine in my Corprusarium, and don't even know it!" he speculated, half-joking.

But Joan was not amused. She began explaining her plight as if talking to a dunce. Still though, were the words Divayth spoke actually true? Was she really, currently, immune to all diseases due to the one which currently plagues her?

"So. You might be the Nerevarine...."

"I am NOT!" Joan could not help but interrupt. For now she worried that due to what seemed to be an upcoming segue, the sorcerer might decide not to help her with a cure; he suddenly seemed so infatuated with her sickness. But then he revealed that there was a potion which might help.

"I want you to look around in the Corprusarium below," he suggested, causing Joan some consternation. "Do you know what's in store if you don't take the potion....?"

"But I have every intention of quaffing it! 'Tis why I have sojourned all this way...!"

Divayth nodded. But (of course) no one ever helps another in these sorts of tales unless they've received something first, correct? - A lost treasure, a service of some sort, a request to kill a jealous opponent, and so on. In this case, Divayth requested Joan go into the Corprusarium below, then retrieve a pair of boots from a "victim" named Yagrum Bagarn. "My oldest patient," the sorcerer explained. "Handy fellow, fixes things for me. Bring the boots to Divayth, and a potion shall be granted."

Joan of Arkay cannot help but literally flee the man's sanctuary once his quest has been given, floating back down the way she came. Thankfully she'd gotten here now rather than later. Because those who waited too long would eventually become heavily deformed.... like Dagoth Gares.

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

Dwemer Coherer

Divayth Fyr

Notes: Hopefully the 2 inset pictures won't stretch this page on different browsers. Let me know.

2). It's not mentioned, but Joan got into a fight with the short-tempered woman after she got offended by her.This caused things to go wildly astray until I resolved things with a trip to UESP. Some NPCs in this game can be so darn rude!!!

This post has been edited by Renee: Jul 27 2025, 09:04 PM

The wives of Divayth Fyr. That story could make a blockbuster of a movie. I chuckle when I think of it.

Levitation, spell failure; I think you hit a couple of features that I missed in Oblivion. There was a mod that added consequences to the spell failure. Fireball exploded in my hand one to many times and I took it out.

I’ve been out of town, so I have two updates to enjoy!

Gosh, Caius seemed more concerned about his own shirtless health than Joan’s corprus infection, which was his fault! Then the conversation about her rank and orders before talking about a cure. I can see why Joan was mad at him.

Fast Eddie! What a name! I had to look him up in the UESP to see what “Fast Eddie” looked like.

The screenshots look great. Thank you for including them!

That was an interesting wander through Divayth Fyr’s tower, talking to the various people there. I’m guessing that the Corprusarium below will be pretty grim.

Thank Kynareth for Mages Guild teleports and water walking spells. Joan finally made it to Tel Fyr.

Wise of Joan the barbaric peasant to restrain her temper among the pompously ‘helpful’ dungmer.

Well, so much for Joan's gift buying a cure. Naturally (as she observes) there is a ‘go fetch’ quest involved. Oh well, back downstairs downtube.

I use Firefox browser and the embedded pics look fine.

That was a relatively quick and simple trip, thanks to the Morrowind Mass Transit System.

I wonder what the Dwemer Coherer does? Apparently it makes something coherent? Perhaps it translates the ramblings of drunks into intelligible speech?

I always did love those paper lanterns the Dunmer use.

Quite the friendly reception at Divvy's Tower. Not.

"Did you know corprus makes you immune to disease?" the sorcerer inquired.
So does being dead. It's not something to be boastful of.

Another fetch quest. Ugh. What do people do when there are not adventurer's around to carry their crap up from the basement?

Granted, under the game designer hood, I am sure this is just a way to get the player into the Corprusarium, so they can see and be attacked by Corprus monsters, and meet the last living Dwemer.

Reading of Joan's journey to Sadrith Mora makes me wish I had progressed more in the Mages Guild with Drathas. He walks, or takes Striders and ferries when possible. Transportation sounds lovely!

Down to the Corpisarium, eh? Talk about a grim place! Yagrum was a fun surprise, though. Never thought I'd see that sort of NPC after only playing Skyrim and Oblivion!

Okay, we're back, phew! Been looking for this week's chapter the last three days! Thought it got deleted. But no, I simply renamed it from "The Corprusrusarium" to "Latest Chapter", then forgot. How's everything?

Kane: Why didn't you get far with Drathas? How far did he get?

Rosa & Kane & Acadian: I agree the transportation options are wonderful in this game, but I try not to overuse MMTS (Morrowind Mass Transit System, ha ha). For me, it's more about the physical journey. The walk itself, the random encounters, weather, sunrises, sunsets, stars and the moons, though this depends whom I'm with. Fay Daway, like WellTemperedClavier's Quinn Morgendorffer, is a mall princess. She hates walking in rain, ash storms and on muddy paths, for instance. I'll begrudgingly use silt striders and magic transport for her. She's my only adventurer who's also got Mark/Recall in her book. My others use Intervention items, potions and scrolls only if they have to. That's it.

SubRosa: That's a question. I think the Coherer only functions as a "puzzle piece" which subtlly changes Divayth's dialog a bit. UESP only mentions where to find it, and also it's part of a Dwemer machine in Kemel-Ze, and "There are 4 spots that require a Dwemer Coherer to be set inside, and there is one sample of Spoiled Dwemer Oil that you'll need to use to repair a lift," so again, it's a puzzle piece.

Dictionary.com says:
[indent] 1). a person or thing that coheres.

2). Radio., a device usually used in detecting radio waves, as a tube filled with a conducting substance in granular form, whose electrical resistance increases when struck by radio waves.

The second definition is interesting because this lends a hint toward some of the projects the Dwemer were up to. That they were indeed a more-advanced civilization. Kirkbride's imagination, perhaps, dropping hints.

Yes, MW's paper lanterns and numerous other light sources is definitely welcoming for ambiance, and also just being able to freakin' see in some dark interiors.



Ha ha ha!

Acadian: Joan didn't restrain herself entirely. She got in a fight with one of Divayth's girls. In my Kahreem days I would've rolled with this and even written it up, but nowadays (and in this game) there are always consequences to consider. In this case, the story died in its tracks as Divayath refused Joan's presence, and also tried to attack, for the record, Joan kicked the b1tch's ass, though she needed considerable potions + magic to do so.

Coolthanks. I use the ole-fashioned Internet Exploder and its constantly-jealous replacement Microsoft Sledge, but I Know some browsers have probs. Google Chrome, for instance might have probs. Thanks for confirming Firefox = okay.

Grits: WB, as the kids used to shorthand. Welcome back, that is. Have some pie. 🍰 Yes, Whoever wrote Caius's dialog definitely made the guy come across as short-sighted and somewhat self-serving, even without voiced dialog. I mean, when every person we meet goes out of their way to mention our affliction except the man who assigned the mission, to me it's obvious Joan's plight is not being recognized, as it perhaps would've been in TESIV or V.

macole: I'm still confused about that. Are these snooty gals Divayth's wives or (as the man himaself mentions) his daughters? - Hate to think they're supposed to be both!

Divayth's domain is not done just yet... here's the rest....

This post has been edited by Renee: Yesterday, 02:59 AM

Just chose not to since he is all in on melee. I've made do otherwise levitation potions or scrolls, and an amulet of water walking.

Chapter LVIV -- The Corprusarium

4 Mid Year (Day 303) late morning

As Joan made her way into the Corprusarium the low-grade fever within her soul continued to simmer. Because that was the thing about this disease; it didn't necessarily have much effect upon her physical person (not yet, anyway), its symptoms mostly occured deeper within. Chances are if she'd delayed this trip for instance, her body would eventually begin aching as well. After X amount of time she'd be deformed, ugly and fragile.

"Outlander, what do you want?"

It's a funny thing, the way everybody on the mainland had gone out of their way to protest Joan Marie's sickness as she'd approached them in guilds and shops. Yet no one so far in Tel Fyr has made a complaint, nor do they seem to know why she's even here. "It behooves me why ye cannot discern my reason for coming here, dear woman. 'Tis because I am infirm. With corprus!"

Finally, the woman gets it. "The Corprusarium is in the caverns below the tower," Delte Fyr, one of Divayth's numerous wives (or "daughters"), said to Joan. "You'll want to speak to Uupse Fyr or Vistha-Kai," she adds. "They attend to the needs of the inmates -- victims of the disease."

What Delte says next is particularly alarming. "If you go down there, be careful. Many corprus victims are completely mad! And quite violent."

"Fuddles." Joan's got no choice but to return to her guar and reequip her Imperial breastplate, weapons, and Blessed Shield. If anyone within Tel Fyr gets offended by this, tough biscuits. Two hours later, she entered the Corprusarium, a dim, smelly cave with a greenish mist in the air. The place was guarded by a Khajiit sentry named Vistha-Kai.

"Da preyyyy, approaches."

Kai was a sentry for the Corprusarium itself. He repeated many of the suggestions offered by Delte up above; how it's not prudent to harm the sanctum's inmates, or plunder valuables. Surprisingly though, Joan learned from Kai himself that the tower's leader, Divayth Fyr, actually allowed dungeon visitors to 'test their skills', permitting thieves to attempt stealing items contained within.



Again, that blatant lack for the obvious. How many times did she need to repeat her cause? "I can assure, 'tis not my intent to go delving for treasure," she answered in reply to the gatekeeper's apparent tempt.

The kitty let her by. Without any directions on which way to go, she meandered a bit before being attacked by the very first inmate she encountered. "Drats. Really, not my wish, that I'd need to resort to conflict..." She allowed the inmate to smack her sheild a couple times with his palms. "HALT thy assault!" Joan warned while unsheathing her magical, fire-based mace. "It is not my aim to need taking thy urrgh!!! HALT!!!! Halt thy assault, I say!!!!!!!!!!!!!" The inmate could not comprehend logic, or perhaps he could no longer understand the common language after being stuck underground for so long, so Joan had no choice but to flee. She encountered more inmates as she continued deeper. Some attacked, others did not. Those who didn't seemed completely unaware of the Breton. Those who did, she tried her best to avoid, fleeing so she wouldn't need to fight, which was easy because they were slow.

After two hours or so, she finally approached the chamber where Yagrum, the.. "man" she'd been tasked to meet, called home.



An odd scene, to say the least. The (elf?) presumed to be Yagrum Bagarn, Divayth's "oldest 'patient", stood upon a wooden deck decorated by minimal furniture: a small table, two stools, a carpet, a dresser. Yagrum himself appeared to be a unique hybrid between an elf or human, and a spider daedra. And with him was yet another of Divayth's "daughters", who was not to be "leered at", as if anyone could even be tempted by a female completely covered in bonemold.

"You're new here aren't you?" she asked. "My name is Uupse Fyr. I take care of the corprus victims in the Corprusarium."

"I am Joan, and I hail from Cyrodiil." She left her introduction at that, hoping she would not need to explain further.

"Be careful if you're going to prowl around here," Uupse warned. "We will be VERY angry if you want to hurt our patients..."

--As if! -- Joan sighed. Uupse had little else to say so Joan approached the man/spider instead. "You're here for the Dwemer boots," Yagrum Bagarn greeted without preamble, his voice a resonnating, metallic growl.

"This is true," said Joan. As she spoke to the oddity before her she could not help but wonder how he'd become what he is.

"Tell my gracious Keeper that I have done what I could. Only a Dwemer magecrafter could have done so much," he said. "But only idiots could have created these boots! It shames my race that we must be judged by the works of such lack-wit plunderers."

Note from author: hmmm, whatever.

Yagrum handed over the magical boots. Heavy, clunky boots which could make their wearer "fly", very helpful in Telvanni territory. On the subject of his affliction, Yagrum told her the following: He was once a Master Crafter in service of Lord Kagrenac, a chief enchanter of Second Era freehold. In his attempts at experimention, Yagrum himself somehow became sick with corprus, hence his bloated, deformed features. Despite this, apparently, he was the only remaining Dwemer individual left, after the rest of his race perished. Joan had learned about the fate of the Dwemer long ago during her school studies; how fascinating to actually meet their supposed sole survivor.

As per Joan's curiosity concerning how he'd become, Yagrum explained... "Since the disappearance of the dwarves, I have been alone in this world, trapped in this grim prison. I can scarecely move. And my fellow inmates are scarcely good company. I do not know for a fact that I am the last living Dwemer. But in my travels thousands of years ago, I never encountered another."

The spider/man had no idea what actually happened to his kind. "I was not there to observe," he said. "I was in an Outer Realm at the time, and when I made my return, my people were gone." Yagrum had apparently been on Red Mountain for a bit before wandering Tamriel. He searched and searched, yet was unable to find an answer. "I have theories, if you are interested."

A devoted scholar of lore and learning, Joan had no recourse but to listen. And it was nice speaking to someone who was also not a clueless dunce without any idea why she'd come to Tel Fyr.

Yagrum's superior (?), Lord Kagrenac, had tried to invent a method to 'transcend the limits of Dwemer mortality'. "I think Kagrenac might have succeeded in granting our race eternal life, with unforeseen consequences -- such as wholesale displacement to an Outer Realm. Or.... he might have erred, utterly destroying our race forever," yagrum speculated.

The mystery of what exactly happened was not for anyone to know, apparently. And with that bit of conversation concluded, Joan was now entirely eager to procure her cure. She hurried back the way she'd come, hoping to speak to Divayth Fyr without any guar-dung excuses. Tel Fyr's lord was still in his study. Joan gave him the boots. Divayth then offered her a choice: she could take the potion now, but only if Divayth could observe her quaffing it, or she could leave without the potion. Some choice! Joan agreed to quaff in his presence, hoping she was not about to get conked out, waking hours later to learn she was to become yet another one of his wives.

"Good," the magister said, "Open your mouth, and close you eyes.... Now swallow."

Making a quick prayer to Dibella that her countenance would not change, she found herself happy to find her consciousnesss remained undiluted.

"Goodness... Goodness! By Azura, It's ...WORKING!" Divayth's normally reserved approach had been cast aside for that of a "scientist" in the midst of discovery. "Remarkable, let me check your skin...." he fussed. After a few minutes of consulting notes and checking for symptoms, he declared Joan free of the disease. "Of course, you still have the corprus disease," he explained. "But all your symptoms are gone."

"Many thanks, sire."

Now in that state of frenzy which only an 'experimenter' can achieve once his theories have become proven, Divayth began scribing a flurry of notations into a tome, while his first successful patient floated her way downwards. Over the next coming days, weeks, and months she'd be amazed. As a side effect of the elf's potion, Joan Marie now had increased resistance to magic-based attacks, complete resistance to common diseases such as ataxia and collywobbles, complete resistance to any form of blight, and finally, complete resistance to corprus itself, even though she was technically still infected.

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YagruM, Joan, and Uupse Fyr
Returning to her guar for clothes swap

Notes: lots of edits from when I originally wrote this on May 18. My typing skills still suck, AND I KEEEP PRESSSSSSSSING ALL CAPS INSTEAD OF A, hopeFULLY there aren't tons of typos.

This post has been edited by Renee: Aug 3 2025, 10:51 PM

Move over Tom Holland and Toby McGuire, there is a new Spider/Man, and his name is Yagrum!

Fetch quest done, Joan has earned the right to receive a treatment. Thankfully it was not a roofie after all, but actual medicine. Divayth could act a little less amazed that his creation actually worked though. It gives the impression that this is the first time it actually did something. Well, at least something good.

Not to worry, Divayth would never do such a thing, unless... Umm, does Joan have green eyes?


one of the best Khajiit lines ever.


I got that impression too.

As Joan notes, odd how all the mainlanders seemed to readily see Joan's problem but here in Coprus Tower, they seem a bit clueless.

What an odd little round dwemer!

Yay, the potion worked! It's success, troublingly, seemed as much a surprise to Dyvath Fyr as to Joan.

And now being immune to Collywobbles is a nice bonus!