The Saga of Laprima Donnaugh Options

[Renee]

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Clavicus Vile

When the dream began, she found herself lying in a cart, lying in hay, lying still, half-hiding from the others. Part of her wanted to be out there with them, while another part felt quietly content to stay right there. Right in that haypile. Staying still, and keeping quiet. It's this latter, secondary part which attained.

The scene was heavily pastoral. Lots of trees, green with foliage. Sunlight and blue skies. A few puffy clouds, a perfect sort of day. The sounds of others around her. The cart she was in had been drawn off to the side, placed in shadow. The horse which had brought it here must have been tethered somewhere else. As she lay in the cart, she began to feel rather lonely. Sad, and lonely, despite the others cavorting nearby.

They were there for her. All of them, gaily awaiting her presence. Dressed in finery. The women wearing whites, pinks, and light blues. Maids and maidens. The men, dressed more somberly, but the sounds from their revelries were no less delighted and cheerful.

Where is she? Where is Laprima?

Someone was calling. A man, sounding a bit tipsy with wine, perhaps. Yet his voice contained an edge of concern. And then, the voice of one of the ladies...

We should go find her! She's probably near! She's going to miss out!

She sank lower, hiding within hay. She could hear them coming, getting nearer, occasionally calling out to her. She cowered. Not with fear, but with some sort of distress. Lonely she was, and part of her did want to join the others.

She scrunched within the hay as footsteps approached and circled the cart. She held her breath. Eventually, the footsteps moved on. Small relief; she exhaled. They hadn't discovered her. So she took a chance. Got situated upon her arms, and raised her head about a foot, attempting to peer over the cart's side. As she did so, she noticed there was a knot in its wooden planking. For no reason at all (other than, this is a dream, and in dreams we sometimes do strange things) she pushed upon this knot, and the knot fell out, leaving a hole. She squinted her left eye, viewing outside of the cart, only to see vague shapes of the departing couple, heading off into a cabin. Still calling out, still calling her name.

...And that's when she noticed the man with the dog.
...He stood off to the side of the meadow, nearer to the woods.
...He stood in shadow. He wore a jerkin of white and black. He beckoned to her.

You there! I can see you, he said quietly. Despite using a soft tone, she could hear his voice clearly, in the surreal way which dreams can magnify. I can see you, and I mean no harm. Why do not you approach me?

She felt a stab of fear. How can he view me, hiding within this cart? But then, she relaxed. For the man was merely a boy. A boy she recognized from her youth. And this boy was her brother.

Laprima! he called. Come hither, posthaste!

And so she did.

She rose from the cart, took a moment to brush stray strands of hay from her clothings, and then ran swiftly toward her brother, skirts ruffling below. She noticed that the dog which had been there a moment ago had vacated, or vanished. She looked to her brother as she drew nearer. And her brother smiled up at her in his typically mischievous way. A smile she hadn't seen since they were, in fact, both children. Her previous feelings of loneliness were gone.

You should depart! her brother said to her, dancing around her with gaited elan. Head on! Depart hence toward Solitude! And do as they say! ... These folks you see in their fabled costumes, all of them here, are of nothing to you! ... To us! .. They mean nothing! ... A wretched lot! ... So onwards must you go! ... Your man, he awaits your presence! And you shall be in high company! Just dandy! Just peachy!

She felt elation at his words. Her brother, right there before her. 'Whatever is to come, would be fine,' he was telling her, seemingly tapping within her thoughts, her hopes, her fears.

Elija, she said to him.

Yes, sister!

She was weeping by now.

Her hands raised to embrace him. But just then, a flash of emotion overcame her. A mixture of revolting sickness, and sweet delight. She recoiled, stumbled backwards in disgust...

Laprima Donnaugh awoke, bolt upright, her eyes teary. Her bed quarters around her, her 8 year-old feline dozing by her side. She'd just had a dream. Her thoughts were racing, so she consciously made an effort to remember all she could. ... Her brother .... A cart ... Some people walking by in gay costume ... A dog by the side of the forest ... Slowly, she pieced it all together. After a minute or so, she sat up in bed, inked her quill and began to scribble words quickly in her journal.

After she had recalled all she could, she realized she was in agreement with her brother. She would head to Solitude.

This post has been edited by Renee: Jan 24 2022, 02:42 PM

[Renee]

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Revelations
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"Skooma?!"

Laprima shook her head, unbelieving her fellow's answer. "You are saying I rode to Skyrim on a ship packed with skooma?" Her brow furrowed. "No. This cannot be. The crates, I glanced on them. I took in their scent from time to time. They smelled of tea. And you said to me..."

She looked to one of her room's walls, puzzled, nibbling at one of her fingernails.

"...And I was told..." she said slowly.

Finally, it dawned. The crates smelled of tea because the skooma would have been packed within layers of tea. This was a way of hiding the smell. She little about the drug, but one thing she'd heard is skooma had a distinctively sweet odor. But if it were packed within pounds of aromatic herbs ...

Now it all made sense. Chamany's abrupt departure from school two months before. He'd been claiming he'd found the ideal job, a job which promised enormously grand piles of riches, with not a whole lot of work. Bravil would be their departure point, Bravil, the place where skooma and a variety of other moon sugar products were an everyday commodity.

Also, there was the way she was chosen, appointed really, to be the one designated to ride along with the shipment. -- Watch over them, Chamany had told her. And especially, you must try avoid your other shipmates, that they do not, eh, tamper with the goods.

At the time, Laprima had assumed the shipment of 'tea' she'd been tasked to look over would net them a few hundred gold, maybe a thousand. Because it was just tea. They couldn't make much money from shipping tea unless a lot of it was moved, and Chamany was moving quite a lot. So, a few hundred gold, maybe a thousand. Not so bad for her man's first stint of employment. Everybody had to start their business somewhere, after all.

But now, rethinking it, she realized there had to be a lot more currency involved. Much more than a few hundred gold, maybe a thousand. There were a lot of crates, after all.

Laprima laughed for a moment, mostly at herself. How daft have I been, all this time?

When he'd first arrived in her room over an hour ago, Chamany had brought a rucksack with him. Now, he reached for it. "Ah, 'tis alright, Laprima," said he. "I am sure you have many curious thinking about the shipment. Hmm. Best way is to just show you, I suppose."

He grabbed something out of his sack. "Take a look and here, this is for you." He handed her a small glass phial, which was dull reddish in color.

"Is this what I am thinking it to be?" she asked.

"And what is it, do you think?"

Laprima uncorked the phial and sniffed. She'd never smelled the stuff before. There was a pungency which wafted out of the small bottle which was unmistakably unique, strong and sweet.

"The sight of you brings joy to me," she said to her man. "I am glad we have finally reunited, you and I. But I do not understand this, this skooma. Is it in such great demand, here in Skyrim?"

"Ah, but this is not just any, eh, typical skooma for the every day," he explained, "this is very best skooma on market. Straight from the swamps of Black Marsh, did it come."

"Black Marsh?"

"You see, the skooma that is here in Skyrim," he wagged his finger in the air, "is not so good. They make in Skyrim skooma, yes, but is very .. eh... what we say? Is very weak. They water it down. Not like this brew, from the Black Marsh."

"Chamany, but this is not legal!" Laprima clapped her hands to her face. She smiled, but smile trembled a little. "I am now a smuggler! I have brought into Skyrim, a mixture forbidden by the laws of our lands!"

"Yes you did, Laprima."

"But what if my aunt Elisif should discover this? After all the promises I've made to straighten my path! After being caught heisting Red Diamond Jewelry, and getting locked in jail! I cannot now be involved with these pursuits!"

"But it is not like this, Laprima," her fellow said calmly. "Your aunt, she will not know. The skooma you make delivered, it has moved by now, far away from Solitude. And because of your bravery, we are going to be very rich."

Chamany looked like he was going to say something else, but instead he paused. Put three fingers to his lips.

"Well, I am going to be rich. You are already so. But I, I did not come from such means."

Laprima said nothing, unsure of how to answer.

"And as I say when we meet last year, I must gain my own. I must make my own way in this world, and have, eh, make wishes come true."

"Mm. Well you have done so, surely," Laprima said, lost in thought.

In her head, she performed a quick bit of rudimentary mathematics, thinking of all those crates, each one packed with hundreds of small, reddish bottles, just like the one in her hand. How much did each of these bottles fetch? 20 gold? 40? She recalled that one of her classmates back in Cyrodiil had been a skooma sucker, or so he'd said. Like her, he had also come from wealth. Unlike her, he regularly bragged about his family's money, and also once claimed to spend quite a bit on his supposed drug of choice. 40 or 50 gold each, was her recollection, which seemed about right.

How many bottles were in each of the multitude of crates which had been on The Mongrel?

"But eh, let me show you why this skooma is better. I wish for you to try with me."

"Huh?"

"Here, I shall try and then you. You try. Eh?"

Before she could think or fathom or launch any sort of protest, Chamany pulled another bottle out of his sack, uncorked it, and downed the sweet brew, all at once. ... He then moved a half-step backwards. And sighed. His eyes glazed, while a large smile crept across his face. "You try it, eh?" he said quietly.

So she took her own bottle, and sipped a bit of it.

"Eh, no, no. You must quaff it," he encouraged.

"Quaff it?"

"Must drink it all," he explained, before lowering himself to sit on the floor. His face by now looked purely content. He continued to smile. He laid himself on a rug, staring up at the ceiling. He looked at peace to Laprima. No convulsions, and no other malevolent effects.

So she drank (she quaffed) the entire phial, just as he had.

Its taste was similar to its aroma, except a tad more bitter than sweet. As for the way it made her feel, this was something unexpected, entirely different from what she thought it might be.

When she was a youngster, her brother missing two years by then, she and her friends once tried some of her parents' liquor. There was a stash of Cyrodiilic Brandy along with plenty bottles of wine, and yes, they became tipsy after drinking some of it. But it took a while for this feeling to take effect. Maybe a half hour or so.

Skooma, on the other hand, affected the drinker right away.

First were the colors. Earlier in the morning she had been wanting to see her room changed to become more unique; she was thinking of having its walls painted blue. But now, her walls were blue. They were purple. They were any color she imagined them to be! ... And those colors were coming fast.

Her mind galloped, she struggled to keep pace with her thoughts. Time had absolutely no meaning. Neither did space, as her spirit seemed to free itself from flesh. She saw herself standing in her room, hundreds of feet above the water, and she, filling all that space. A sense of omnipotence, a sense of omnipresence. As if she was anywhere, and all places, all at once. Her entire life sped within her head. First memories, her childhood, the years of darkness. Laprima, back in the Imperial City as a child, playing with her pals in the city's streets.

Her heart, it pounded within. She took a moment to dance slowly across her room. Her body like air, instead of flesh; it was as if she ruffling on a cloud. She spun and twirled this way and that, and it seemed the whole of Nirn twirled and spun along with her.

She needed to sit, so she plopped upon the same chair she’d been on before. Eating that apple, which now seemed like it happened days ago. Acutely aware was she of placing herself on this chair. Pine wood and cushions, which rested upon a floor made of granite, which had been constructed upon a gigantic natural formation of rock, high above the Sea of Ghosts. Laprima Anne Donnaugh, rays of sunshine all around, just as supreme as one of the Gods.

But just as quickly as the brew had taken mighty effect, it also succumbed. The colors went mostly away, except for a dim pinkish hue. Her vision became blurry. She stood from her chair, walking around her room, nearly stumbling a couple times. By now, Chamany had joined her, rising up from his place on the floor.

"Cham-an-ay," she breathed slowly into his shoulder.

"See what skooma can do for you?" he asked.

"What is this?" She realized she was numb, wobbly, and faint. "Oh, we must lie down."

Slowly she rolled onto her bed, feeling the richness of its sheets and blankets and pillows. Here she and Chamany laid and sighed, until Laprima's stamina waned, and she eventually fell asleep.

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Four hours later...

Laprima awoke, bleary and wasted, unable to entirely focus. Her tummy made a small noise. Very hungry, she realized she was famished. Hungrier than she'd perhaps ever been. As she moved out of bed to check her satchel for an apple, she realized that's all she had eaten so far this entire day. An apple. One green apple!

She checked her room's windows, and they were dark. "Oh my! Were we asleep?" she asked Chamany, who was standing bedside. "Has day turned into night?" They had spent the entire day inside her room.

"Is good, yes?" he answered. "Those Khajiit. They know well, how to do it," he winked.

"Hmm. Well, I do not know about this," she replied, recalling as much as she could about the afternoon. The lights. The colors. The magnificence of it all. "I cannot deny it was quite a journey. I saw many things. It was as if my very soul was ... revealed today. But now," she rubbed the side of her head. "Now, I feel insipid. I am queasy, Chamany."

"Ah. It was your first time," her man said, holding her. "Here, you must now take, and eat," he said, handing her some purple flowers.

"Oh. And what are these? Not skooma, I am hoping? I cannot partake of more skooma."

"No skooma. These are alkanet flowers, from Cyrodiil. As the skooma is used, always eat the alkanet after is all done," he suggested. "For the skooma, it does great things, but the mind, it suffers greatly, as well. For those who do not, eh, follow skooma with alkanet, they become dull-witted."

"Chamany, we have no need for this!" her voice rose. "I do not intend to partake of that foul brew, ever again!"

"Yes, yes, is alright," he said, kissing her forehead. "You need not partake, if you, eh, choose not to. Is alright."

Laprima smiled a small smile. "Thank you."

"But now, I must grant you your reward."

"My reward?"

"While you did sleep, our payment was delivered," he explained. "For the shipment. Is just over seven thousand gold."

"Seven thousand?"

"I split even. Seven thousand for me, and seven thousand for you. Please check inside the dresser," he said, pointing to one of the room's wardrobe cabinets.

So she did. And goodness, there they were: several dozen pint-size bags full of coin.

Today had been a day full of surprises, amazements, and disturbing information. Now, at the sight of her earnings, Laprima did not know what to think, and how to react. She was awed by the sight of so much coin, right inside one of her room's dressers. And this coin, it was hers. Perhaps this money had been earned through non-legal ways, but she had to admit she did feel rather astonished to see her wardrobe full of riches.

But she was also spent, as the events of the day (and all its revelations) had been draining. So much had happened these past two days. There was her first experience with a moon sugar product, but there was also her confusing arrival, during which she'd witnessed an actual execution. There was meeting her aunt after so many years, and then dealing with her aunt's confounding, but subtle, demands.

And now, there was gold. Lots and lots of it, too.

Long ago when she was a lass, she had discovered the place where her father kept a lot of his funds, which was in their home's cellar, under a pile of ragged sacks. If a thief broke into their home, under those sacks would be the last place to look, the premise for his hiding place seemed to be. Back then, Laprima had laughed about this. How ironic, to spend so much time making a living, only to hide it all into some dark, dingy room full of miscellaneous junk.

But now, the noblewoman realized. As well-off as she'd been raised, she had never earned one piece of it, herself. Well, this had certainly changed.

She looked over to Chamany, but he was already in bed, and already snoring lightly. Her tummy rumbled once again. Time for that second apple. But two apples in one day would not be enough, so Laprima decided she'd go walking through the palace, looking for something more substantial.

She left her chamber, and walked into the room she shared side-by-side with Sybille Stentor, the palace's court wizard. To her right was Sybille's bed, and nobody upon it. To her left, a wooden bench, with a robed and hooded figure sitting right there. Sybille Stentor, the Blue Palace's court wizard, and Laprima's new neighbor. But the wizard was facing the opposite way, so that Laprima was viewing the back of Sybille's hooded head.

Laprima approached the magician, walking around the far side of the bench so she could view Sybille's front. The pair of ladies then stared at each other for quite a few seconds, grim-faced and forbidding, A minute passed, it seemed. Laprima's tummy rumbled again.

"Why hullo there, Laprima," the court wizard said in her low, slightly raspy voice. "Aren't we up, stirring and about at the witching hour, hmm?"

Something about her, the newcomer from Cyrodiil mused. There was a bench, opposite to the one Sybille sat upon. Laprima sat on this opposite bench. She stared some more, before coming to conclusion.

"I know now what you are," she finally said to the wizard. "And do not concern yourself with worry. Your secret is safe with me."
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