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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Visions Unveil





"You are a vampire."

Laprima stated this quietly, hoping if anyone was awake at this hour and within earshot, they'd likely not hear. For her words would surely cause Sybille Stentor some distress, should anybody discover the court wizard's secret. At best, Sybille would lose her status. She'd lose her comfortable existence within the palace's walls. She'd be shunned and banned and forced to leave. At worst, she would be killed. Just like that man who'd been executed in Solitude's public square the day before.

"I am not so deeply trained in magics," Laprima explained, "but I have always had a talent for viewing the auras of others, especially if these auras are magical." She nodded slightly. "I can see your aura now, and it is indeed tinged with mana. But its coloration is discrepant. I could not perceive initially, what exactly is the nature of your being. But now I know. And as noted, I shall keep your secret."

The Cyrodiilian waited for some sort of reply from Sybille, but the wizard did not speak.

"Long ago and in my province, one of our counts of Skingrad was also discovered to be just like you, although it took quite some time for his, uh, secret to be disclosed. Until then, he was able to maintain his court through the processes of underlings. Those who sought him were told he was an extreme recluse, or currently ill, or some other such untruths. He did then appear here and there, although only upon nightfall. But you... you are present and able even during daylight," Laprima said with wonder. "How can this be?"

The wizard did not reply.

"How long have you been able to uphold this veiling, Sybille? Are you somehow clouding the minds of others so that they cannot discern?"

Half of Sybille's head was covered by her hood, so that Laprima could not read the woman's facial expressions so well. But the magician's jaw did seem to adjust in some small way. Going somewhere with this, we are.

"Not that this is any of my concern, but if we are going to be rooming next to one another, I thought it'd be prudent I reveal my thoughts."

"Did you now?" the wizard finally spoke.

"I did. You ... are a vampire. A fathomer of night. Although somehow, you are able to exist amongst the rays of sunlight."

"And you ... are a smuggler," the wizard replied rigidly, also keeping her voice low. "You are a smuggler of illicit substances."

"No ... I, no!" Laprima denied. She tried to keep her face neutral, while steeling herself against a flash of anger. Chamany!

"I know this because I am a seer," Sybille replied, ignoring her collocutor. "It is my livelihood to know all that concerns. It is the very reason I am allowed my place within the Blue Palace."

Now it was Laprima's turn to stay silent. She'd stay silent, in an effort to determine all she could for the moment. How did Sybille Stentor know? How did she find out? Had she been listening at Laprima's door somehow, earlier in the day, to the conversation between Laprima and her man? ... Or maybe she had been in the room with them, when Chamany had spoken about his trade, and his dealings. Vampires could make themselves invisible, after all. Had Sybille had been in Laprima's room the whole time?

"I can see my words disturb you, Lady Donnaugh. Even now, you are searching for some explanation of my knowledge. Well, here it is. I can only say that I have gleaned these things even before Chamany did arrive. He arrived, and he has managed to evade discovery as he's plied his wares, and dealt with his cohorts."

Sybille the wizard/vampire raised a mug to her lips, and took a sip. Whatever it was she was imbibing, Laprima did not want to know.

"And then you came. You, a noble woman who rode aboard a common freight ship instead of a vessel befitting of your stature," Sybille chuckled. "I may play dumb on occasion, such as, that whole Wolfskull Cave debacle which occurred yesterday. I attempted to keep them away from that wretched place, as mortals have no business dealing with the forces of Daedra. But do they listen to their own seer? Hah! ... Such nonsense, Laprima. Your own aunt is to blame, after anyone gets harmed while they deal with what's inside the cave. And some sorry fellows and matrons will get harmed. This I see, this I know. Hah!"

Laprima decided to bluff. She decided to not respond to the wizard's accusation. What sort of proof was there of wrongdoing? The deal was done, the money collected. If Chamany was right, the skooma itself was long gone. "Do they know of your vampirism?" the Cyrodiilian asked, attempting to lead the conversation's focus astray.

Sybille smiled, then laughed quietly for a moment. "They know not of my being. Of the many years I have lived an un-life, right under their noses," she sipped her mug. "It is not easy, of course. I must occasionally make myself gone from the palace, if I am to ... maintain my well-being."

With the pressure of impending trouble turned away from her, Laprima felt triumphant. "And as I said, this will stay our little secret," she winked. "For I shall never tell."

But her success at steering their words was short-lived.

"You have nothing to worry from me," Sybille said firmly. "Listen, I know what you have done. You and Chamany have brought a large shipment of illicits into Skyrim. I know these things. My appointment within the court is to assist the lives mortals daily. This is my livelihood. But here's something which you might not already know, Laprima; I care little for the lives of mortals. What you and your lover do to further your ambitions here in Skyrim is not of much interest to me."

Laprima made no reply. Defiant she was, but no longer angry. Still, the questions remained: How could she know? How did she find out?

"Besides, were you to reveal to your aunt what I am, I could make the rest of your days here in Skyrim, or anywhere else, very unpleasant. I can do many things to those who choose to slight me. Or my court. So know this. And behave and beware. And I shall perform the same gratitude."

"As I said," Laprima replied, refusing to acknowledge the wizard's threat. "I do promise to not reveal your secret, Sybille. But I am no smuggler. And neither is Chamany. He is a man of business, who founded a mighty deal on a shipment of foreign teas. And I am his soon-to-be wifely assistant. I was tasked with riding upon The Mongrel as an additional precaution, so that those aboard the ship might think twice, if they were to try to pirate some of our brand for themselves."

Just then, she paused her words, to suddenly ponder a thought. Sybille did know, Laprima realized. She knew about this from the very moment I walked into court yesterday. She knew, yet she'd told the court I'd arrived on a freight ship to avoid the flourish and attention I would have received had I been on a noble's ship. She had spoken for Laprima, perhaps in an effort to help the royal newcomer avoid scrutinization.

But still, the lady from Cyrodiil remained defiant. "I am no smuggler," she repeated. "What sort of proof have you of this, anyway?"

The vampire looked down to her mug, at whatever liquid it might still contain. "As stated already, I know because I am a seer. And I can see many things. I do not need to prove the things I already know."

Laprima said nothing. Her tummy rumbled for the fourth time.

"You'd better attend to your nascent hunger there, woman," Sybille suggested. "But before you go, I have one more thing to say to you. Well, two more."

"Oh? And what have you in mind?"

"I highly suggest you follow your aunt Elisif's advice. About your appearance. Especially if you are to continue a life of smuggling, and other such wanton behavior. It might be worthy of you to obey her wishes, for then you shall be able to ... ehm ... blend in with the masses a bit. As of now, you look rather tawdry. So obey your aunt. Not doing so is near-impossible, anyway," Sybille said knowingly. "Lady Elisif always gets what she wants."

Laprima felt another flash of anger, but gave the vampire nothing. "You mentioned two things? Well, what of the other?"

"There was someone from your past. Somebody close to you. A loved one who I'm seeing has vanished, or deserted your life."

The noblewoman blinked.

"You have lived many years unknowing of what happened to him," Sybille continued slowly, drawling her words a little. "Whether he met his demise..."

"Elijah!" Laprima nearly screamed, eyes immediately watering. "Yes! Elijah! My brother!" By now she was openly crying, unable to hide her emotions from her vampiric neighbor. "He disappeared when we were children! What is it you see about Elijah?"

"In my scrying, I have determined that Elijah, he is not deceased. That you and he shall someday again cross paths. That he may even be searching for you, here in Skyrim, and at this very moment."

Laprima sat dumbfounded. "Well, where ... where do you see him?" she wondered in amazement. "Is he well? Is he within a loving circle? Is his mind also filled with darkness, as is mine since the age of ten?"

Sybille Stentor smirked, before finishing her mug, and standing from her bench.

"As you stated yourself, 'What sort of proof have I got of this, anyway?'"
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