Sleeper in the Cave, a Morrowind fanfic Options

[Grits]

I loved the screenshots! The offending book’s cover art style was instantly recognizable. For a moment I thought it said “Molag Bal,” so there was some tea-spitting. Rulebreaking was hilarious. “You must extinguish any fires,” lol. The portrait ones are my favorites. Ervesa is beautiful! It’s great to see the characters on the screen.

Adryn’s wiki page looks great. I enjoy the reminders of her various skills.


He was right, but.

That could be the Adryn motto.

[Black Hand]

Bolvyn. Bolvyn. Bolvyn.

How many times do I have too kill you?

Meh, keep coming back: I enjoy your repeated demises. As well as Adryn lightning quick wit: "Wait, why the singular?" actually brought a snicker, followed by a guffaw. Man, reading your work is like a word a day calender. I feel the gray matter actually working for a change.

Love the screens, Adryn is a hawty!

Just don't tell her I said that.

[Colonel Mustard]

I've just finished reading this through from the start, and I must say that I've been enjoying this immensely; it's been an great read throughout, full of interesting chracters, fun twists on Morrowind's quests and the world feels fleshed-out and real.

The best thing about this story by far, however, has got to be Adryn; her narration is an absolute joy to read, and she's a great character with a lot depth and humanity (elfanity?). The rest of the story is absolutely great, but she's really what makes it something special, and left me clicking that Next button without fail.

Absolutely loving this, and I cannot wait for the next chapter.

[Captain Hammer]

And we meet the architect of our prisoner's dilemma. How fun.

I love your description of Bolvyn Venim and how Adryn sizes him up; pretty apt from my experiences. I'll give him props, the guy is nothing if not tough. He might as well be made of Ebony instead of just wearing the stuff as armor.

Adryn's running commentary is always a delight, so there's not much to add other than: Good Job, Keep it coming, and I hope Alldimwits learns something valuable from all of this. Such as: Don't just rely on a sleeping potion. Don't get caught up in a land war in Akavir.

And never go in against a Bravilian when Death is on the line. That's important too.

This post has been edited by Captain Hammer: Aug 8 2013, 10:18 PM

[haute ecole rider]

There should really be an upper limit on the amount of misfortune someone can experience in a day.

QFT!!

I loved the descriptions of Varvur and of Bolvyn - goes a long way to show just how different "nobility" can be! I had to laugh out lout at this:

Worse yet, he didn't even look like an angry nobleman of the pampered, helpless without his guards variety where you can at least try to intimidate them into letting you run for it. No, this looked like an angry nobleman who ate the former type for breakfast and followed them off with a rampaging snow bear for lunch.

And I rather enjoyed Adryn's dilemma - stay or go only Akatosh knows where?

[mALX]

Holy Cow! I'm reminded of "Annah of the Shadows" from PlaneScape Torment saying "It's from bad to worse we go..."

What a cliffhanger (again, lol)! Awesome Write, all I can say is MORE, so I know what happens! (must dust off Morrowind and try playing it again!).

[Kazaera]

@Grits - glad you like the screenshots and the wiki. And... yeah, not Molag Bal. That would be a rather different story. And probably involve Vivec. (Curse the Lessons of Vivec for me never being able to unread them...)

@Black Hand - Adryn would like you to know two things. One, she still disapproves of lethal violence as a problem-solving method! Two... but since you're going to do that anyway no matter what she says, it would've been so so helpful if you/Sethyas 'took care of' Bolvyn Venim *before* all of this happened. Just, you know, your timing! It could use some work.

(There is no Three because I quickly prevented your last comment from reaching her ears.)

Oh yeah, tell me if the vocabulary gets too ridiculous? I was a terrible bookworm as a kid and then spent my teenage years playing "let's see if I can make the teacher reach for the dictionary" in my compulsory EFL classes, so sometimes I just don't realise how obscure some of the words I've used are.

@Colonel Mustard - eeh a new reader! Thank you for giving Adryn a shot! I'm really glad you like the story, and especially glad you like Adryn's character and narrating style! Adryn is pretty much what made this story for me, all my other ideas came after. *g*

@Captain Hammer - I'm glad you like my Bovlyn description! The man may be an inflexible xenophobic bully who'd rather let Morrowind go to Dagoth Ur than admit an outlander could help them, but a weak ineffectual noble who lets his guards do the dirty work he is *not*. What a pity Adryn was hoping for that option! Poor Adryn, not used to these Redoran warrior sorts. *g*

As for Alldimwits... we *might* see him again later and *might* see what lesson he took from all this.

@haute - yep, it's a tricky decision to make, to stay or to roll the dice on the teleportation... and I think this update will bias Adryn further in favour of option #1. >>

In all seriousness, one of the reasons I'm taking this tack on it is because otherwise teleportation acts as a little too much of an emergency parachute - losing a battle? teleport away! run into an enemy too strong for you? teleport away! With Adryn's preference for flight over fight, she'd reach for the spell the instant she got in over her head, which is boring to read and hard to plot with. Adding some risk to it prevents that and opens up a lot of other possibilities to boot.

@mALX - ...that comment of Annah's is more appropriate than you know, I think. And I feel as if I should apologise for the cliffhangers I'm heaping onto you guys, but I can't find it within myself to do so.

Last installment, Adryn's argument with Allding about what, exactly, to do with the politically important hostage they'd stumbled across, the one who'd been kidnapped by the nobleman who owned the place, was interrupted by said nobleman showing up. He was not amused, to put it mildly. Adryn ended up wildly teleporting away again. Now...

You know how a few updates ago I said 'now Adryn learns just how badly a teleportation spell can go wrong?'

That was a lie.

This is the update in which she learns how badly a teleportation spell can go wrong.

Chapter 8.3

*****

This teleport was even rougher than the previous one. My stomach lurched when I rematerialised with a jerk, stone floor shifting to-

To-

To...

Why was someone screaming?

I looked down.

It looked as if I'd been a bit hasty in deciding that teleporting would be a safer option than staying where I was. In fact, I found myself wishing desperately I'd decided to stick around. I'd probably have ended up in the cell with Varvur, but cells are nice, safe places. In particular, they have floors. Floors, I thought, were a decidedly undervalued commodity. Ground in general, in fact. True, the ground here seemed eager to reunite with us, was in fact approaching with remarkable speed, but we were far enough away that we were going to be bereft of it for some time all the same. I for one wasn't looking forward to the reunion.

Pain. Fingers digging into my wrist. I'd taken Varvur with me, and he'd finally managed to stop screaming.

"Do something!" He didn't sound very happy about this turn of events. I couldn't blame him.

"Like what?" I yelled. Ooh, those tiny dots down below were trees.

"You're a mage! Cast a spell!"

I pondered my repertoire. Illusion, detection, waterwalking, firebite... no, not exactly useful in this situation. The teleport - even aside from the fact that the way things were going we'd probably end up three miles under ground next, I wasn't sure if teleports reduced velocity. Ending up flat as a pancake at a Temple was if anything an even worse option, since at least this way our afterlife wouldn't be haunted by gods angry at us for getting bits of ourselves all over their holy place. Shield spell? Doubtful. I didn't think a spell made for keeping off the rain would help us survive a fall from this height, unless the weather here was a lot stranger than anyone had told me.

"I don't know any that would help!"

Varvur stared at me. "Seriously? I thought all you mages could levitate!"

"Well, I'm not a ma-" Levitation... wait a minute, what did that remind me of...

Those trees were looking bigger and bigger.

Levitation, of the Alteration school, closely related to the Slowfall effe-

The amulet!

I reached under my shirt with my free hand, ignored Varvur's eyes bugging out, grabbed the amulet and concentrated-

Our fall slowed to a gentle descent, as though the two of us weighed as much as a feather.

"What was that?" Varvur asked. Now that I wasn't distracted by our imminent death via being scattered across the landscape, I noticed there was sweat trickling down his face and his breath was coming in fast pants. All things considered, I doubted I looked much better.

"Slowfall enchantment," I answered him, carefully drawing the amulet out of my shirt. My eyes were drawn back down again, and I winced as I realised that the ground was still a rather disquietening distance away. I must admit, shameful as it is, that ground is one thing where I am extremely conservative and not inclined to new experiences. Not for me aerial explorations, I am one of the ground-loving people who wants firm earth under her feet as much as possible. Although at the moment I didn't feel inclined to be fussy - I'd be ecstatic with a tree branch, a net, a circus highwire, anything oh Nine anything-

"That's. Handy." From the looks of it - in particular the looks he was shooting in a general downwards direction - Varvur was just as attached to the idea of ground, for the standing upon, as I was.

"Lucky. I only got it today and was planning to sell it." Past tense. Now, I was ready to swear by Zenithar never to let this amulet out of my sight. I wouldn't have traded it for Azura's Star. People might laugh at me but, I ask you, what use is Azura's Star when you're several rapidly-decreasing miles in midair?

"That's the kind of luck I think we could both use more of. Um..." Varvur paused and licked his lips. "I don't suppose you know how long the enchantment lasts?"

We stared at each other.

Of course, most likely due to the universe wanting to prove yet again that it really did have a sense of irony, that was when we started falling again.

A few seconds later, I managed to get enough of my mind off of our once again rapidly approaching horrible death that I could muster the concentration necessary for the amulet, leaving us drifting once more.

"Right," I said once my teeth had stopped chattering. "So I just have to call up the enchantment as soon as it wears off until we reach the ground... or. Wait." I didn't exactly have much in the way of experience with enchanted objects, but one of the few things I did remember was jumping up and down screaming for attention.

And Varvur was shaking his head too. "How many charges does that thing have?"

I focused on the amulet for a moment, in particular the energy emanating from it. Energy which was definitely reduced compared to earlier. "Maybe... three more? Or four?" I hazarded.

"Not enough to get us all the way down. So you're just going to have to let us fall most of the way," Varvur said.

I stared down at the trees far below. "Right. I'll... get right on that."

As if on cue, the enchantment wore off.

*****

Next

This post has been edited by Kazaera: Aug 17 2013, 11:24 AM

[Grits]

I love how you’ve turned what could be called Easy Escape in the game into a hazard in your story. I particularly like how enchantment effects can wear off at an awkward moment and spells can fail. Taking notes…

[Colonel Mustard]

It may have been short, but that chapter was a great little snippet; I'm with Grits on liking how you've turned a Get Out of Jail Free card into a plot hook for a whole series of mishaps so far, and it's a clever bit of worldbuilding too, giving gives a good answer to the question of "why don't they just use magic for everything?" with the retort of "because magic often blows up in your face".

Now, that was trees that Adryn mentioned. Trees...where is it that's relatively nearby that has trees?

...

Holy crap, has she ended up on bloody Solstheim?!

[Black Hand]

But--but--I'm/He's not in this story! It wouldn't work! My mind has been collapsed in on itself!

As far as the eloquent prose you possess: Don't you dare change a thing! That's one of the nice aspect of your style of storytelling! It does not deter from this talent you have for creating a deep level of immersion, while simultaneously guiding the reader into Adryn's worldview, while also stimulating the intellect.

Now then, as far as this transportation mishap...again..



Her penchant for disaster is unparalleled.

[Captain Hammer]

As if on cue, the enchantment wore off.

Should she have expected anything else? Really, the amount of parallels to good old Rincewind that Adryn is showing as a plaything of fate is one of the continued sources of joy for me, as a reader.

Because I know that Adryn isn't taking enough joy in what's happening so it has to go somewhere.

On a separate note, I'm glad Adryn got to experience a true warrior-noble in full action. Because she's now dealt with lecherous merchant-princes and noble-warriors both. Which, given her attitudes, will probably pale in comparison when she meets insane Wizard-Lords that have been around for as long as the gods. I'm already stocking up on popcorn, butter, seasoning, and the soda for that story.

I'm glad to see Adryn making good use of that Feather Fall amulet, and realizing how wonky transportation magic can be in the Adryn-verse Morrowind. Maybe she should invest in some flying spells. In case this sort of thing occurs on a more frequent basis.

[mALX]

Varvur may be a terrible thief and not the brightest, but when his life is on the line his brain becomes very active! I loved this chapter, but ... ANOTHER CLIFFHANGER!

Awesome Write !!!

[Kazaera]

@Grits - yep, as said this was part of my motivation for this whole idea/plotline! No "whoops, stumbled across a Daedric ruin and have two dremora chasing me? No matter! I'll just Almsivi Intervent myself back to Balmora..." for Adryn, much though she might like it.

@Colonel Mustard - I'm glad everyone likes the way I'm going about this! Not Solstheim, no (not quite *that* many trees) - where they are should become clear in the update after this one.

@Black Hand - hey, when have paradoxes ever stopped an Elder Scrolls character? Thanks for the reassurance re: vocabulary!

@Captain Hammer - plaything of fate... plaything of an author who thinks she's funny when poked... six of one, half a dozen of the other I fully endorse your taking joy in these events because someone has to!

Yep, Adryn is getting a bit of a flavour of the Great Houses. I think from her experience so far, she'd be hard-pressed to decide which of Hlaalu and Redoran is worse! And I have *plans* for the first time Adryn meets a Telvanni Councillor. PLANS.

Trufax: all my characters have a "Slowfall 1pt 12 seconds/self", some also a "Slowfall 1pt 72 seconds/self" spell for the purposes of getting down from high places. I think Adryn might be investing in those pretty soon.

@mALX - I think you have your characters a little mixed up - Varvur is the kidnapped noble, not the thief. The thief was called Allding and managed to avoid this by gulping down an invisibility potion. Varvur, on the other hand, isn't quite sure what he did to deserve this... rescue.

Last installment, Adryn's teleportation spell went... slightly awry. In the "whoops, I didn't mean to end up in midair" way. Thankfully for her life and limbs - and Varvur Sarethi's, who she managed to take with her - she remembered the Slowfall amulet Ervesa had sent her. Alas, the limited charges on that item mean that getting back to the ground safely is still a fraught thing, requiring nerves of steel and lightning-quick reflexes.

Let's see how that's going.

Chapter 8.4

*****

The sight that would have greeted any passing bird or levitating mage that evening was unique, and quite possibly amusing if observed from a secure vantage point. Two Dunmer - one in plain robes clutching an expensive amulet, one in velvets and heavy chains - hovering among the treetops, clinging to each other and arguing loudly.

"Too early! Again!"

I glared at Varvur. "This isn't easy, you know! Would you rather it be too late? Besides, we're almost all the way down and I've still got a charge left. Maybe two."

"Don't you think 'maybe' is a bad word to be using in this context?"

"Look, if you're so intent on criticising me, you can take the amulet and give it a try!"

"You may have not considered this, but I don't think fooling around with the only thing holding us up right now is a good ide- watch out for that tree!"

At that point things happened very quickly.

The enchantment wore off. I was staring downwards, readying myself to call on it again, when my arm exploded in pain and the amulet fell out of my nerveless fingers.

Oh crap-

Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!

A few moments later found me lying on the ground - and oh, I would never take that for granted again - staring up into the trees. One tree in particular, one whose branches bore the marks of our rather violent passing.

"I am never taking ground for granted again," I said out loud. It bore repeating.

"Agreed," came a voice from next to me. Apparently Varvur had survived our fall. Now I only needed to work out whether I had. "Honestly, I'm not sure whether to thank you for rescuing me or strangle you for almost getting me killed."

And just when I'd figured out - with relief - that I was still alive I found myself in mortal danger. Again. This was becoming strangely routine. "Now, I know this may sound very unexpected but I vote for the option without grievous bodily harm?" True, I thought he was being hyperbolic, but after the day I'd had I figured one couldn't be too careful. "And besides, if it weren't for you I wouldn't be in this situation myself so if anyone ought to be pondering murder here..."

"Well, I suppose I did come away with only minor injuries in the end, so I can't hold too much of a grudge." Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that Varvur had managed to sit up, although it had involved quite a bit of wincing and even more complicated maneuvering to make up for the fact that he was still in chains. "Are you all right?"

"I think so- wait." I noticed something in my first attempt to sit up. "Ooh, that's funny, I didn't know arms could bend that way."

"I think that's because they're not meant to." Varvur waddled closer. I'd say the reason I didn't laugh was out of courtesy, but since that was when the pain hit I suddenly had other things to worry about. "Yes, definitely broken. At least it wasn't your leg, since we need to walk out of here." He gave a rueful glance downwards. "Or hop."

I glanced at his chains, then realised that I still had Allding's lockpicks in my other, still useable hand. I'd been holding them before we teleported, and was now clutching them so tightly the indentations would probably still be visible two weeks from now. "I think I can do something about that..."

Thankfully for both of us, the tree had been so kind as to only break my right arm - that's courteous plant life for you. Picking a lock one-handed was something I'd spent some time practicing, but doing so with inferior, unfamiliar tools while trying to ignore a broken arm was difficult enough; if I'd had to do it without my dominant hand we might have been stuck there until we both starved to death.

Varvur watched me with bemusement. "Interesting. I didn't think mages went in for that sort of thing. But I suppose you were burgling the Archmaster's manor." He sounded disapproving.

"Look," I snapped, "I'm not a mage. Or a thief. Well, I was one once - a thief, that is, not a mage, but I'm retired now in any case, and I suppose you could say I'm sort of a mage but still -" Varvur was looking confused. I decided to simplify things. "I wasn't burgling anything, all right? I was an innocent bystander in all of this!"

"Really." The voice was dry enough to turn a swamp to desert. "Then what were you doing in the Archmaster's manor, muthsera not-a-thief?"

"First of all, my name is Adryn, so you can stop with the nickname." The chains on Varvur's ankles fell to the ground with a thud. "And - give me your wrists - it was a teleportation accident."

"You know," Varvur said reflectively as I started on his manacles, "if you'd asked me recently I would have told you that wasn't possible. Very recently, in fact. Up until... oh... ten minutes ago."

"That's me." I accidentally jostled my right arm and had to pause, gritting my teeth against a wave of pain. "Stretching the bounds of mortal achievement in ways we could definitely have done without." Click. There, that was the manacles. Now the only thing left was the bracer on his left forearm. It wasn't hindering him, true, but I recognised it - and more importantly, I could feel the tugging at my magicka just by holding my hand near it. It was a magicka-draining device, and if Varvur happened to know any useful spells (like, oh, to pick one entirely at random - healing spells) I wanted him free to cast them.

"By the way," I said as I wiggled the first pick, "who was that, anyway? You said something about the 'Archmaster'?" Ordinarily, I'd prefer to work without distractions, but Varvur was still looking disapproving about my less-than-legal past and I suspected that if I didn't find another topic of conversation we'd end up arguing about my career choices.

"Who was..." A pause. "You were burgling the manor of Bolvyn Venim, the Archmaster of House Redoran himself, without even knowing who it belonged to?"

"For the last time, I wasn't burgling-!" I cut myself off. I could see that this wasn't going to get me anywhere, and besides, the other part of that sounded rather ominous. "Um. I take it he's important, then?"

"'Take it he's important'?" I could actually hear Varvur's jaw drop. I looked up from my work to shoot him a glare, one which he rudely ignored. "He's the head of House Redoran on Vvardenfell! Lord of Ald'ruhn! Probably the most powerful man on the island after Archcanon Saryoni and Duke Dren!"

My heart sank with the approximate force and velocity of a Dunmer, bereft of Slowfall spells, dropping from three miles in midair (a comparison I had to say I felt uniquely able to make). "Thanks. That's, that's perfect. That's just what I was hoping to hear." I poked angrily at the lock. Not only were the pain and pulling sensation at my magicka making it hard to concentrate, but it was being recalcitrant. I dimly remembered that prisoners' bracers are said to be very difficult to pick, but I'd be damned if I got bested by a piece of metal. "I mean, I definitely wanted to make an enemy of one of the most powerful men here less than a week after I arrived. And I certainly wanted to do it in a way that left him able to identify me. My life didn't have enough excitement in it, you see."

Varvur, who'd been watching my actions with a steadily growing scowl - I wasn't sure whether it was my rubbing my criminal past in his face or the trouble I was having with the lock, but was readying a cutting retort for either case - snorted. "Don't you think you're being a bit paranoid?"

My jerk handily undid everything I'd managed so far and almost broke both picks as an encore. "Paranoid? Are you serious?" Wait, hadn't he said something about his father being... "Is this one of those nobility out-of-touch-with-reality things? I have no idea what you're used to but I assure you, for normal people like me, being worried about the reaction a man like that has to being crossed is-"

Varvur looked as if he were about to take offense to the 'normal people' comment but let it go in the end. "No, I mean that he seems to be under the impression that you're some sort of Telvanni mercenary." I looked blank. He heaved a long-suffering sigh. "Didn't you hear him? He said something like... 'I didn't think even Athyn would stoop so low as to consort with the Telvanni, but of course he insists on surprising me.'"

I thought back to the encounter. Come to think of it, some of those Dunmeris phrases had been a bit long for the equivalent of "Guards, arrest her". I'd just thought he was getting creative with his orders - perhaps something along the lines of "Guards, arrest this filthy spy and take her to the dungeons with the thumbscrews and pot of hot oil", although I had to admit I'd been holding out for the rather unlikely "Guards, take this completely innocent bystander and escort her to the exit, where you should let her go with a polite farewell and a few drakes for her trouble." In any case, I hadn't expected it to be anything like Varvur's translation.

It might be a good idea to look into learning the language. Were there classes?

From the corner of my eye, I noticed Varvur was now peering at me. "You do look rather Telvanni, come to think of it. The hair, and then you wearing mage robes... I mean, it's obvious that you're an outlander, but the Archmaster only saw you from a distance and didn't hear you speak. I guess I can see how he might make that mistake."

"Right. Lovely." I nudged one pick to the side slightly. Almost there... "I'm sure knowing he thinks I'm Telvanni will be useful, especially if I figure out what one is."

"Oh, of course, you're an outlander. Telvanni are another House, based on the east coast, mostly mages. They... well, they're Telvanni. I mean..."

Varvur trailed off, clearly stumped as to how to explain in what way exactly Telvanni were Telvanni. I didn't mind much, because I'd learned the most important thing - namely, that with the confusion about my identity I was unlikely to end up with an angry Venim chasing me down to be a change from his usual diet of noblemen and snow bears. Also, Varvur's silence gave me a moment to focus on-

There! A last tumbler hiding at the back - twist the pick like so-

The bracer fell to the ground. Varvur sighed in relief, and I could see his face starting to regain some colour. I couldn't blame him. Just a few minutes in contact with that thing had been unpleasant, and I hadn't even worn it.

"Thank you," he said.

About time, if you asked me. Rescue someone at great personal risk, and they only bother to thank you after you've put off treating your own injuries to free them from their chains. Hostages these days, honestly.

I'd been expecting Varvur to want a few moments to catch his breath and recover, but he was already struggling to his feet. "Things aren't going to get any better if we sit around here," he said in response to my quizzical look. "We need to find our way to the nearest town, and I'd prefer to spend as little time as possible tramping around in the dark."

I glanced to the west, where the sun was dipping dangerously low, and had to admit he had a point.

*****

Next

This post has been edited by Kazaera: Aug 24 2013, 10:52 AM

[haute ecole rider]

They should be thanking that tree for blocking the last couple hundred feet of their - uh - drop! Otherwise they'd be worse off than a few bruises and a broken arm!

The entire conversation between Adryn and Varvur while she tried to concentrate on picking his locks (umm, was that a little bit of Derhtee Innu Endo?) was hilarious! But my favorite came at the end (right where my favorite bits should be):

"Thank you," he said.

About time, if you asked me. Rescue someone at great personal risk, and they only bother to thank you after you've put off treating your own injuries to free them from their chains. Hostages these days, honestly.

I could just hear Adryn's voice here so well.

[SubRosa]

I have been (finally) getting caught up with Adryn again. I loved her mid-air antics with Varvur. It made me think of one of my favorite scenes from The Tick.

Well at least it looks like Archmukety-muck Venim won't be coming after Adryn. At least not yet. At least one good thing came out her misadventure!

[mALX]

GAAAAH! Oh, I remembered the thief casting chameleon, just not his name - and thought he was the one she rescued, lol. Sorry about that, see what happens when you go on vacation? Lol.

clinging to each other and arguing loudly.

ROFL! And I pictured it!

Come to think of it, some of those Dunmeris phrases had been a bit long for the equivalent of "Guards, arrest her". I'd just thought he was getting creative with his orders

Lost my hot cocoa all over the monitor, thank you! ROFL !!

This chapter has to go up among my favorites - the counter relationship between Adryn and Varvur is hilarious! Can't wait for MORE !!! Awesome Write!

[Kazaera]

@ haute - Oh no, the dreaded Dhertee Innu Endo! *coughs* I'm afraid it has to be pretty obvious before Adryn takes any note, but when she does... anyway! Am glad you liked Varvur and Adryn's bickering. *g*

@ SubRosa - I'm glad you caught up! Welcome back to Adryn! And thanks for linking that Tick video, I hadn't seen that and it was very funny... and very apt. Adryn nods ruefully in agreement at the "Gravity is a harsh mistress" quote!

@ mALX - no problem, I know it must be confusing to keep these people straight for folk who haven't played Morrowind. Re: Varvur and Adryn... just wait. *This* is still from the time I somehow, foolishly, believed I could make them get along!

And - thank you for mentioning the bit where Adryn went "I'd just thought he was getting creative in his orders"? Originally Bolvyn Venim said everything in Tamrielic/(English), but when I introduced Dunmeris and worked out linguistic patterns etc. I realised there was no reason he would once he believed Adryn was Telvanni. I was worried that the Dunmeris + later translation provided by Varvur would be awkward, so It's really reassuring you picked out part of that bit as one of your favourites. \o/

Last installment, Adryn and Varvur made it to the ground with one last mishap, which ended in a broken arm for Adryn. Heroically ignoring her pain, Adryn picked the locks on Varvur's chains and slave bracer so they could get away without him having to hop/being unable to cast spells. During the course of that, she learned that the nobleman they'd just fled from was a Very Important And Powerful person, but that she was probably safe from him because he seemed under the impression she was a "Telvanni", whatever that was.

Now, safe on the ground but thoroughly lost, Adryn and Varvur strike out to find civilisation. Will this go smoothly? Will it ever.

Chapter 8.5
*****

A brief time later found us making our way through the wilderness. Apparently, while we'd been floating in midair and I'd been desperately trying to keep us from dying, Varvur had decided this was the perfect time to do some leisurely sightseeing. I couldn't be too bitter about it because it meant he'd spotted a road to the east. As a result, we had a better plan of action than my suggestion of picking a direction at random.

I ducked under a branch Varvur was holding up for me. Given that it was hardly his fault I'd blundered into where he'd been being held hostage, I'd been forcing myself not to be angry with him. It was rather difficult - pain makes me short-tempered at the best of times, and this was certainly not the best of times - but I persevered. It helped that I knew he'd probably been having about as bad a day as me.

Varvur was also helping through being surprisingly congenial. Not only had he taken my pack (which I had been extremely relieved to find had survived totally unscathed - I suspected a broken arm would be the least of my worries if Chronicles of Nchuleft got damaged), but he'd even turned out to have a little knowledge of healing: he'd set my arm, fashioned a makeshift splint and sling for my arm using branches and strips torn from his shirt, and tried his best with a healing spell he knew once his magicka had recovered. It was only a minor one meant for bruises, but it did take the edge of the pain off.

Sadly, this meant most of the pain was entirely untouched.

"-where we are," the three words coming from in front of me managed to penetrate my mental haze.

Oh. Varvur was talking. Talking meant distraction, meant not thinking about the agony emanating from my arm. Talking was good. "Sorry, what did you say?"

"I said, I wish I knew where we are," Varvur repeated. "Not wet enough for the Bitter Coast and I don't smell the sea, I'd guess somewhere in the West Gash or maybe inland of the Ascadian Isles, near Lake Amaya-"

I'd been sufficiently distracted from my surroundings that the only thing I'd registered was "it's green and there are arm-breaking trees that hate me." I looked around.

We were walking among craggy hills dotted with low, scrubby bushes and the occasional copse of broad-leafed trees. The landscape was rocky and the vegetation generally sparse - I thought we might be in the rain shadow of the mountain, although I supposed the cause could also be poor soil. Still, there were a few plants I thought might be alchemically interesting. That bush over there, for one, or that tall plant with the big yellow-orange trumpet-shaped blossom and sharp-edged leaves.

"Not near Lake Amaya," I said. I'd only been there once but I had picked up something of the area. "The flora's all wrong and there aren't any giant mushrooms masquerading as trees. It looks more like the landscape near Balmora."

Varvur looked as if he were going to argue that, then paused for a moment and just nodded. Maybe I wasn't the only one keeping a tight rein on their temper. "West Gash, then. Sadly, that means we could be anywhere between Khuul and the Odai Plateau. And most likely nowhere near Ald'ruhn."

For a moment I thought longingly of the enchanted map that had come into my possession, the map that could tell us exactly where we were for just a trickle of magicka. The map I'd left at the guild that morning, thinking I wouldn't need it for a quick sight-seeing jaunt to another city...

Wait a minute. What had Varvur just said?

"We were in Ald'ruhn?" I didn't exactly know this island very well, but I did remember talking with Selvil about the Balmora silt strider schedule and destinations. "Isn't that north of Balmora?"

Varvur stared at me as if I'd grown a second head. "Yes, we were. And it is. Where on Nirn did you think we were?"

"Well... I was shopping in Vivec when I cast the spell. I managed to figure out I hadn't made it to their Temple or in fact any Temple, but..."

Now Varvur stared at me as if I'd grown a third head and my mutant self was arguing with herself and blundering into trees. "You got to Venim's manor with an Almsivi Intervention spell from Vivec?"

I couldn't help but feel defensive. Yes, I'd managed to figure out that I'd screwed up this spell in a spectacular and unprecedented way, and twice in a row to boot. No need to rub it in. "In my defense, I was being attacked by a murderer at the time, so I didn't exactly have time to concentrate!"

"But even if you weren't concentrating, it's not meant to-" Varvur paused. "Murderer?"

I shuddered at the memory. The woman, the dagger gleaming with malicious magicka, her blank eyes... I wasn't used to people trying to kill me just because I was there. I prefer my murder attempts more personal, thank you very much. If someone chases you through half the city screaming about how they'll wring your filthy dark elven neck for stealing their- for accidentally having their purse fall into your pocket in a mishap that could really happen to anyone, then at least you know that they're objecting to your continued existence on an individual basis.

Oh. Varvur was waiting for an explanation.

"Yes, murderer. I was having a... polite discussion about hospitality with an Ordinator when this woman with an enchanted dagger stabbed him from behind, cut his throat and then tried to get me." I firmly shoved the remembered panic down. I could have a nervous breakdown about all of this once I was somewhere safe and - oh yes - no longer had a broken arm.

Ow.

"Right, I remember hearing about this from a trader. They say there's been a rash of murders in Vivec - mainly outlanders. I don't remember them saying anything about surviving witnesses, though." Varvur sounded thoughtful.

"You mean... you mean I might be the only person who can identify her?" The thought made me cringe.

Of course, it would be good to help end her sleepmurdering serial killer ways. All arguments about altruism and service to the community aside (really, please set them aside), I'd rather like to be able to visit Vivec again one day without fearing for my life, something that wasn't going to happen as long as she was running around. However, I was worried that being the sole witness to a murder would require me to spend far longer with law enforcement than I liked. And that was without factoring in that Vivec law enforcement apparently consisted of Master Grumpy's colleagues.

"Say, have you ever considered getting yourself checked at a Temple?"

I was jerked out of nightmare scenarios in which Ordinators featured prominently by Varvur's voice. Varvur's voice asking an exceptionally stupid question, at that, and at the moment my tolerance for stupidity was a lot lower than usual (which is, I admit, saying something.)

"Why, no," I said acidly. "I was thinking I'd just keep wandering around with a broken arm, I'm sure it'll magically heal itself overnight-"

"No, no - although speaking of which," Varvur stopped walking and turned to face me, "I have enough magicka to use that spell again."

A few minutes, a cast spell and some blessed pain relief later, Varvur continued. "What I meant was getting yourself checked for curses."

"Curses?" Maybe it was the day I'd had, but I wasn't quite following.

Varvur nodded, then started walking again. In usual circumstances, I'd probably be swearing at my aching legs at this point, but this is one of the dubious upsides to broken bones - it makes all the usual aches and pains next to unnoticeable in comparison! "It happened to Unc- um, House Father Arobar, one of the other Redoran Councilors. He told me about it when I was younger. Apparently there are curses that give you bad luck, you see. He had a week where everything seemed to go wrong. Finally he ended up attacked by a flock of cliff racers during an ash storm on the way to Maar Gan, and when he was in the Temple being healed the priest told him he'd been cursed."

I had to admit that was a very appealing thought. Appealing in the sense that if it was a curse, I could go to the Temple, get it removed and rest assured that these things would stop happening to me. Sadly, I suspected that this was actually a case of some gods (definitely several, one couldn't explain all this) with a grudge. Or possibly ones with an inventive and highly sadistic sense of humour. And-

A thought struck me and I groaned.

"What? It's not impossible, and-" Varvur seemed affronted to think I was casting doubt on his idea.

"No, no, it's just - I cannot believe that someone who's just been kidnapped and held hostage is saying they find my bad luck remarkable," I moaned. To distract myself from how unbelievable my misfortune had clearly become, I tried to think of a change of topic.

The universe, possibly feeling apologetic for what it had been putting me through, decided to take care of that for me.

"Hail and well met, travellers!"

My head whipped around and I stared in the direction of the strange voice. A split second later, I had my eyes firmly shut.

We'd been so engrossed in talking that neither of us had realised we were nearing the edge of the road Varvur had spotted. However, the Nord standing on the road had clearly noticed us. I might be a bit more detailed in my description of him, except that where I might usually notice hair colour or age I'd found my attention firmly drawn by the fact that he was utterly, unrepentantly, positively ostentatiously naked.

"Uh. Er." Judging by his incoherency, I suspected Varvur was equally bowled over by the sudden appearance of a Nord with nudist tendencies.

"Fine evening today, isn't it?" the Nord continued, apparently undeterred by our gaping.

"Ah. Yes. I. I. Suppose." And Varvur sounded as if he was going to keep up his best impression of a concussed cow for a while.

I opened my eyes into a squint in case the shocks of the day had caused us both to hallucinate (or perhaps another word would be more appropriate, since this wouldn't be "seeing things that aren't there" so much as the opposite...) Alas, the pale pinkish blob that greeted me before I shut my eyes again made clear I was hoping in vain.

"A mite chilly, maybe."

Okay, that was it.

"Have you ever considered," I said between clenched teeth, "that the reason you are finding it 'a mite chilly' might be because you are naked."

"Why, of course!" The man had the gall to sound surprised. "Forgive me - I nearly forgot, you see."

"Forgot. That you were naked." I had the strangest sensation of the universe spinning out of control around me. "Why. Are you. Naked."

"Well, friends, that is a story indeed-"

"Excuse me." Varvur seemed to have regained control of his tongue. "Good... good sir." Good garment-challenged sir, I corrected silently. "Before we continue this discussion, I would like to lend you my shirt."

"That's very kind of you, but-"

"Really. I insist." Varvur seemed to be surprisingly good at this diplomacy thing once he overcame shock; I suspected that if I hadn't just spent several hours defying death in new and creative ways with him I wouldn't even have noticed the edge of desperation to his voice.

"Ah, very well then-"

Rustling noises followed.

"Is it safe to look yet?" I hissed at Varvur.

"How do you expect me to know?" he hissed back.

I cracked one eye open suspiciously, then, relieved, opened the other. Now, this may appear slightly unusual - I must admit that ordinarily, the sight of a Nord in a red velvet loincloth would not be something I welcomed with anything other than screams of horror. This just goes to show one of those maxims of the universe -

Context really is everything.

"Thank you, friends!" the Nord boomed. "You have Hlormar Wine-Sot's gratitude."

"Don't mention it," I muttered. "Really."

"Indeed, tis good to know that all travellers are not as dishonourable and treacherous as that evil witch Sosia!" Hlormar continued.

"Witch?"

Hlormar's face fell into a frightful scowl. "Indeed. With her foul magics she stole my father's axe Cloudcleaver! Oh, and my other possessions," Hlormar added as if as an afterthought.

"Including your clothes, I assume."

Hlormar continued as though he hadn't heard me. "A precious heirloom for my family is Cloudcleaver! To have lost it to such treachery shames me and all my ancestors. I must retrieve it." At this point he paused, as if struck by a sudden thought. "Say, travellers, would you aid me? The witch cannot have gone far, and if we pursue her together she will surely quail in front of our superior forces."

I stared at the Nord, trying to work out how to diplomatically phrase my reaction to that suggestion (which could be summed up in words if one tried, but I really felt desperate screaming got the meaning across better). "Ah, that is of course a very... I mean, we would definitely help you but I'm afraid we're a bit-"

Varvur cleared his throat.

*****

Notes: For the non-Morrowind players: yes, this is in fact an in-game quest. I don't think I'm quite demented enough to come up with this one on my own.

Next

This post has been edited by Kazaera: Sep 7 2013, 12:31 PM

[haute ecole rider]

Ah! Shades of the Gweden Farm Quest from TES IV! That's the one where a gang of seductive women lure married men (yes, married meant!) up to an isolated farm outside of lovely Anvil to rob them once they're - uhh - well, naked! Or is this Witch more of the bitter old crone type, quick to cast curses and cackle at the thought of making strong men cower?

Funny that both Adryn and Varvur should be so intimidated by the sight of a naked Nord. Me, on the other hand . . .

Oh, be quiet, Dhertee Innu Endo!

[Black Hand]

Oh my...the list of the running joke is within Morrowind, and both it's expansions. It's only natural that this subject would be eventually touched upon.

Of course, if you play with Better Bodies mod, as I do, and you're not a giggling elementary school kid, which would just make me a little more impressive if I were....then you get the Full Monty as the developers intended!

Well written once more Kazaera.

[Captain Hammer]

Well, these past two have been nice installments.

First off, say what you will about the Nine, but I would point out that a kind word or three for Kynareth (or Kyne, as we'll see in a moment) would be appropriate. That tree could just as easily have concentrated its 'fall-breaking' into a single hit on the head, and then where would we all be?

Also, while a nice Slowfall spell is a useful thing for bone-saving and such, do you know what else works really well?

Flight.

Like, say, I don't know, a Traveling Cloak of Flyingness. Since it can make one rain-proof and provide aerial maneuvering abilities. I don't know why nobody thought of this before. Oh, wait...

*(Runs away before Adryn decides to make said cloak out of Breto-Nord leather.)

It is good to see the young Sarethi lad pull his own weight and make himself useful. The problem I always had in the game was that you only really get to interact with him during a jail-break, all while he's unarmed and unarmored. Not a lot that can be done while fighting off heavily armed guards. Seeing him navigate the wilderness and administer medical care with his limited resources shows the side we'd expect of an up-and-coming young nobleman with a lot more to give.

Alas, their navigational issues are less easily resolved. Though they might soon remedy that. Is that a large road sign with directions in the distance? It very well could...

Nope. Just a large naked Nord standing by the side of the road.

Funny that both Adryn and Varvur should be so intimidated by the sight of a naked Nord. Me, on the other hand . . .

Now, now, Rider, that's no fair at all.

The Dunmeri are elves with memories of the Nordic invasions when a great two-handed Battle-Axe was certain doom for all ash-skinned warriors. The only thing that ever matched such a monstrosity was the Warhammer-wielding Orc bands that wanted to join in the fun. And when the Nordic king wielding Wuuthrad and the Orc Chieftain swinging Volendrung compared their weapons nobody ever came away satisfied.

Besides, not all of us schedule our days so that we're heading to the baths of Cloud Ruler Temple just as Captain Steffan is readying himself for bed...

*Runs and jumps off a mountain-cliff while shouting "ODAHVIING! Now would be nice!" since aerial escape is his only option. A dragon-steed really is the only thing better for riding than a Reach-horse with untested magical abilities. Barely.

This post has been edited by Captain Hammer: Aug 27 2013, 05:20 AM