Life and Times of a Selfish, Shady Dunmer. Part one., The story actually has several. But we focus on just one or two. Options

[lord_wanhoop]

Part 1.1

"Profitable hunting, lads?" asked Arrille as he looked at the two Dunmer before him. The left one was bald, with a scar where his left eye had been, and various other scars besides. He was covered in chitin armor, save helmet and shield, and had a shortsword at his belt. Jiub grinned and nodded to his counterpart, a slightly younger Dunmer. This one also looked shifty, but in a different way. Jiub looked like he'd won, well, survived, countless street fights. The other mer, Dasreth, looked as if he'd managed to trick his way out of them every time, and had something cocky to show for it. Dasreth was less muscular than Jiub, with a face that the poets could be inclined to call 'darkly handsome'. Whatever that meant. His short black hair was dishevelled, and he had three earrings, one in his left ear and two in his right. He was less heavily armored than Jiub, with only a cuirass, greaves, and boots, and also carried an iron shortsword.

"Well enough. Feast your eyes on these assembled pieces of plunder, Arrille. I'd say the lot's worth about hundred drakes total."

The Altmer nodded, his eyes gliding over the pile of items looted from the smuggler cavern of Addamasartus that Dasreth had pulled out of his backpack and onto the table. He did not know about the two bottles of skooma and the thirteen packets of moon sugar that they had also found, and this, Dasreth thought, was for the better. With the Census and Excise Office right under his nose, he likely wouldn't be quite inclined to trade in those things. Arrille shoved the assorted pile of weapons, alcohol, armor scraps and clothing into a crate. "Tolvise, pay these gentlemen, please. I'm going down to sort through this."

A pretty young Dunmer woman nearby nodded, gliding over to the counter and counting down exactly hundred drakes from Arrille's money box, then put them in a pouch and handed it over to Dasreth. Dasreth took it eagerly, putting his hand on hers and caressing it with a finger. While doing this, he said:

"Thank you...Tolvise. If I can ever do anything for you, just tell me. It'd be my pleasure."

Tolvise removed her hand from Dasreth's, and looked him in the eyes. Dasreth, not taking the time to check the expression on her face, gave her a wink and a grin.

PETCH!

And was returned a slap. Tolvise walked away in a huff, muttering darkly. Behind him, Dasreth heard Jiub emit a raspy chuckle. Still rubbing the fiery red spot on his cheek where he'd been hit, the Mer turned around angrily.

"What's so bloody funny, scarface?"

"You are," Jiub replied.

"I don't see you doing any better! Besides. That used to work. I tried it so often. Must've gotten rusty in the clink... happens often, I heard. There weren't a lot of pretty ladies around there, and they put me in a cell with this orc who took male bonding and prisonerly brotherhood a tad too seriously."

"What happened to that one then, Dasreth?"

"Well, Jiub, he got shivved mysteriously after telling me how cute he thought my butt was. End of story."


Post scriptum: this is my new attempt at a story based on Morrowind which I recently resumed playing. Do not expect the protagonist to be a noble good guy. Do not expect him to be completely stark raving evil, either. For the time being these may seem like tales of humorous incompetence, but do bear in mind that this personage is still Level One. My game uses many mods, such as the CM Partners mod which allows me to have Jiub as a companion. By reading this work of fanfiction, skimming it, laying your eyes on its title on the topic list or breathing, lord_wanhoop legally owns all rights to your soul and the soul of your firstborn child. Many NPCs were hurt physically, mentally, and/or emotionally during the making of this fanfiction. Who cares? We sure don't. LaToaSSD is sponsored by Hlaalu Egg Mining Inc. If you are still reading this, comment already. lord_wanhoop's writing efforts are supported purely by positive yet honest feedback and dubious skooma mixtures.

[lord_wanhoop]

All movement based antics actually occured ingame. It was me being the stupid one, not my character. Still, it makes for good writin'.

1.4

After solving the business with Processius Vitellus, Dasreth and Jiub headed north for Balmora. Dasreth had his own business there, which he was not to tell anyone, even the friend he'd gotten off the prison ship with. Jiub was content, however, with the idea of it being a big city with plenty of work potential. After a few encounters with wildlife and a single random brigand, the companions reached Pelagiad where they stayed for the rest of the day. Dasreth used some time to unsuccesfully flirt with several prissy Imperial noblewomen, resulting mostly in various variations on the classic slap. Jiub was starting to think that his companion was intentionally trying to cultivate a layer of callous on his cheeks. They left town early the next day, delving into a cavern called Ulummusa where they obtained various items, such as an engraved silver bowl and a Belt of Northern Knuck Knuck, which Dasreth and Jiub agreed was Nord slang for something they didn't want to know, and where Dasreth got a nasty hit with a hammer that resulted in him having to lay down on one of the defeated bandits' hammocks as Jiub applied the mediocre healing powers of Fargoth's ring on him. Early in the afternoon Dasreth's head no longer felt like a mashed egg and the two of them resumed their journey. A few hours later, they were in a valley that seemingly had no way out except for the one they'd used to enter it. And it was getting dark.

"Hmm," said Dasreth as he placed the map they'd recieved on the ground. "According to this map we should be right at Balmora, or very close."

"Maybe it's behind those mountains?" , Jiub suggested. "It doesn't show height level very well, which is bloody incovenient. At least we should be able to see where we are up there."

"Good idea," Dasreth said. He rolled up the map and placed it in his backpack, then jogged up the slope at a steady pace, Jiub following behind more slowly. Upon reaching it, he pointed at the city below them, built out of what looked like sandstone in a local style different from what he was used to. Just now the city was glowing with many lights, as guards looking no smaller than insects went around to light lanterns and families came home for dinner, lighting candles to illuminate their houses.

"Balmora."

"Not bad," Jiub said.

"Come on, Jiub! We can make it before night settles properly!" Dasreth said enthousiastically, and started down the slope. As he did so, his chitin left boot made contact with a protruding rock, disturbing the mer's balance. This caused him to fall down, face first, onto the very steep slope. With a cry of "Oh shiiiii---" the young thief slided down, dragging with him a lot of loose gravel and groaning for the entire duration of this trip. It was mercifully short, however, for after a few seconds he landed face first into the Odai River.

"Bfffrrlgh!" Dasreth exclaimed, spitting out at least half a gallon of polluted river water. Behind him, Jiub roared with laughter as he steadily made his way down the rock face.

"What's so bloody funny, scarface?" asked Dasreth angrily of his companion. To which Jiub replied with, "You are."

"Hmph. We're not done yet... Last one on the other side is stupid and ugly!"

And with that, Dasreth plunged himself into the Odai and began swimming for the other bank. Jiub shook his head, and was still doing so as the soaked young mer got back ashore. Dasreth glared angrily as his companion came walking towards him calmly over the bridge that was just a few feet north of where he'd dived into the river.

"You know, Jiub, this makes you stupid. And ugly."

"I'm not the one who jumped into Vvardenfell's dirtiest river when there was a bridge right next to it."

House Hlaalu would like to make it clear to you that the Odai is not the streaming open sewer described in this work of speculative fiction but rather sparkly and clear, with a charming reflection at the times of dusk and dawn that can be seen particularly well from the balconies and rooftops of the many charming inns and hotels Balmora possesses where stays can be booked for as little as 10 drakes per day per person. This was a public service announcement by the Balmora Board of Tourism, under the motto 'Welcome to Balmora, You May Not Get Robbed'.