The Saga of Joan of Arkay, A Morrowind Main Quest Story Options

[Renee]

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.

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Joan of Arkay Chargen Sheet

Joan in Seyda Neen

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

[Renee]

1 Heartfire (Day 17), 9 a.m.

Arkngthand


Deeper down a steep rampart she goes, as the ruin around her occasionally squeaks and groans. Joan feels herself going rigid as she moves slowly downward into Arkngthand. As a supposed Novice for the Blades, she assumes she is to be vigilant. To walk in representation (somehow) for the Emperor himself, and all the Elder Council members.

She tries to call upon her Nine as she walks quietly downward, but cannot quite say the words this time. Truth is, at this point she is no more than a devout, but somewhat confused young woman. ... The fright she feels as she steps deeper into the ruins causes her to slow her pace. But she does not stop altogether. Determined she is, for whatever is to come.

She finally calls quietly upon Stendarr, and calls upon Arkay. Stendarr for resilience, and Arkay for what's likely to come, assuming any humans or elves inhabit the ruin. Assuming if such folks do inhabit the ruins, that they'll choose not to hear what she has to say.

The acolyte takes some time to have a good look at what's below. She then continues to motion down the lage spiral of earth below her. This spiral is just wide enough for one person to walk upon. It hasn't got any rails to guard from falling. One misstep into darkness and she will not be leaving this place. Ever.

She stops and looks again. There's a large chamber below, and it's got some sort of light source illuminating. Bright and orange. The spiraled path she's on continues to a stone landing. To her left is what appears to be a very structured set of stories, open to the middle, obviously built by the Dwemer. Impressive. Joan takes a moment to take it all in.

But ... something is moving! Not a contraption, and not an automaton. It's an ordinary man, or woman. He or she is quite some distance away. Joan freezes, trying not to alert the person before her. Despite the distance between them, the person below immediately notices somebody is here in Arkngthand. Somebody who does not belong!

It's a man. He brandishes his weapon, says something, and begins running toward the landing. Whatever it was he said, Joan could not hear. He was too far away.

Joan waves her arms about, not raising her shortsword. "Please, do not fear!" she calls as she tries to make her face look friendly. "I come toward you on the condition of neutrality, that we might drop our weapons, and..."

But the man (a Redguard) does not bother to listen. It takes him several seconds to figure out how to get where to Joan is, and then the fight is on! ... Joan swings and blocks, the man slashes and parries. clash! clish! crash! He's got a blade of some sort. Joan wonders if the Gods see any of this, as she hits the bandit twice, swings down low but misses, and her aggressor quickly gains the upper hand. *SMASH* She blocks a thrust across her shield, then another! These bashes and blows begin to wear at her as she cannot get a swing to he man in return. Joan's health seriously wanes. And how long have they been fighting? A half-minute or so?

"I've got you now!" the bandit says smartly.

Fortunately, her magical powers are at their zenith. The Redguard swings, but misses, and then loses his balance. Joan uses the moment to make a hasty retreat, back up the huge spiral walkway, back to a slightly plateaued area where she can stand and focus, and cast a healing spell. Joan knows she can just continue running upward to her guard if she has to. But this does not need to happen. She feels she's now able to finish the battle herself. Back to full strength, she stands her ground.

"Your time has come, Breton!" her opponent says calmly as he closes the gap between them quickly.

Joan Marie says nothing. Instead, she remembers her training, and positions herself so that she's right near the edge of the walkway. Her feet go into a wide stance. She raises her shield. The man swings his weapon and connects...

"Rawr!"

But then he makes one huge mistake, and it's a fatal one. Unlike Joan, he does not keep a good watch of his feet! His stance is narrow, and his right boot is planted literally next to nothingness. He and Joan are warring on a large but narrow pathway, high above the chamber below. It's only a matter of time before he loses track of where his feet are, and falls to his death, twenty feet below.

"NO!"

The Redguard's loses his balance, and falls into the abyss. A second later, she hears his body crash upon stone! ... Joan only has seconds to gather her thoughts and catch her breath, before a second man hears the ruckus above, and comes running for Joan. Again, she attempts to speak some Truth to this second enemy, "Give up thine wicked ways!", who of course ignores her words.

This time, Joan is ready for him. She does not sheathe her weapon. She slashes and cuts, and manages to perform the same progression of events with this second enemy as she did the first. She chooses her stance, then lets the man attack hysterically, all while using her own body to rotate toward the wall. This causes the man to swivel inwards, toward the void. His feet step outward ... toward the edge of the path! But just as he's about to slip and fall, Joan thrusts with her blade, and downs him first.

These moments are the first ones which herald important changes to come. The adrenaline, it moves through her body. Her heart pounds wildly. Her muscles tense with vigor. Joan is sure she feels the vigilance of Stendarr, calling to her now, while Arkay takes his time to commence the circle of life into death. For the two miscreants she'd just fought? They have chosen their path into darkness. Arkay, he transcends this darkness to some degree. How far the souls of the men who fought her shall fall? And it's all for naught.

"For naught, they have chosen their path all for naught," she sputters in wonder.

For the rest of her delve into Arkngthand, Joan feels a mixture of caution and confidence as she encounters more enemies. All of them, thankfully humans or elves. Nords, Dunmer, and so on. Men and women of reason, one would think. Though she tries a few more times to convince with her voice, none of Arkngthand's bandits heed her words. None are persuaded to give up their "wicked ways."

Turns out, Arkngthand is a large place, much larger than Joan had anticipated. There are multiple rooms, multiple corridors, multiple intersections. It's easy to get lost in here. She does so, a few times.

So where is this Dwemer Puzzle Box? Hours go by as she searches. After several encounters, Joan decides it's time for her guard to join her.

After much exploring, they eventually comes to a quandary; an area which seems as though it's the location they seek. In one of the ruins' many directions to go, they find themselves in a chamber with a broken bridge. Molten hot lava bubbles and bursts from the depths of Nirn, and all of this activity lies beneath the broken bridge. The chamber they're in is a virtual furnace of heat.

Joan tries to find a way around the lava by grasping the chamber's walls, but nearly slips into the burning mantle below. It is only through a combination of grasping and scrambling that she is able to make her way back to safety, avoiding the fiery liquid below.

"Let us return to Balmora," Joan tells her guard. After so much time underground, she realizes their supplies are running thin. It also would not hurt to sell a few things she's found, and buy a few assorted sundries and potions.

"As you wish," says the guard.

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Arkngthand Entryway

An Ornate Door

Maiming a Miscreant!

"Give up thy wicked ways!"

Another mess for Arkay

Molten Hot Magma

Dangit. I thought I had pics of that huge chamber they were in. Grr... Well I'll post 'em if I can find them.

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Note: Joan ascended to Level 2! I put +2 points in Agility, +4 points in Endurance, and +5 points in Speed. Since she wears a few heavy armor pieces, she walks pretty slow, so Speed is really needed.

Note 2:: It took 6 (SIX) days before we found the Puzzle Box. In fact it's easy to find, but the way to find it is not so obvious. This will be described next chapter.