The Gweden report, A story of the story of the stories. Options

[Acadian]

Roast boar with orange sauce – yum!!! How sweet to imagine the gentler side of Uzgash’s orcish bed maneuvers.

‘The Orcs saw a lot of prejudice, and it wasn't easy to tell the Thalmor's from anyone else's.’
I love orcs but know exactly what Uzgash means.

"If a man's fragile, what use is he to me?" she snorted.
That thought led her to talk about the situation between Wayrest and Orsinium, which could equally be described as fragile.’
What a wonderfully ghastleyesque segue!

I like the crystal balls for sending signals.

They were both sent to Falkreath to hide, and pulling the bed sheets over them sounds like the perfect cover!

A couple small nits:
‘Svana and the reporter been joined on his trip here by Jokull, back from one of his many trading trips, and perhaps that was the cause for tonight's feast.’
Did you want to perhaps say, ‘…reporter had been joined…’?

‘The reporter was glad he was just telling him about those, and not demonstrating anything.’
I think it is Uzgash telling him these things so I suspect you want ‘…she was just telling him…’

[Grits]

Kintyra’s redecorating had me rolling.

Roast pork with orange sauce, I love it! Lore-friendly and delicious. What a nice evening for the reporter and Uzgash.

I love the Black Marsh politics and the crystal ball messaging. Sonds like it’s time for a little Falkreath vacation!

[mALX]

ROFL !!! Seems like Uzgash was a little too pleased with the reporter for the other residents of the inn's taste, lol.

Ooh, Kintra's meal sounded AWESOME !!

He decided not to mention passing out.

ROFL !!!

Awesome Write!

[ghastley]

@All: I've only eaten Roast Boar once, and I don't recall what kind of sauce went with it. Orange was lore-friendly and a good way to entangle Jokull in the plot. And I know the readership likes to be fed!

@Acadian: Crystal balls seem to everywhere in the game, and nobody using them for anything. They can't all be Syl's. And if you can kill off Savlian, this time I'm killing the reporter, sort of.

----------

Uzgash - Part IV

They stayed in Falkreath for several days, making the most of each other's company, and expecting some communication from Orsinium or Cyrodiil to tell them it was safe to return, but nothing came. It wasn't long before the welcome break turned into unwelcome boredom, and they were both anxious to leave. And they'd leave together. They just wanted to do something else, somewhere else.

When Pala and her bear arrived to escort Jokull on his next trading trip south, they decided to join them and travel down to Bruma. Uzgash's bear would not be so obvious there at the Lodge, and he'd be more able to blend in with the crowd, too.

As they travelled down the trails through the Jerall Mountains, Pala brought them up to date with the news. It had been quite an eventful period for him to miss. Ocato had been elected Potentate by the Elder Council, as they'd felt the power vacuum had gone on for too long. He had reluctantly agreed, and almost immediately received notice of Black Marsh's secession from the Empire. Not an auspicious start.

The two events were unrelated; the Argonian delegate who'd delivered the message had already departed from Lilmoth before the Council's decision. It was not unexpected, as links with Black Marsh had been tenuous at best before the Oblivion Crisis. But it was potentially a pattern for the other provinces to follow. Everyone expected Elsweyr to be next, or at least part of it, as it seemed to be suffering from internal strife of its own. An attempt to assassinate the Mane had failed, but it probably would not be the last.

The reporter thought of Enilwen when she told him that. It wasn't the first attempt, either, but only a few knew of that one.

They'd just passed over a bridge across a deep ravine. On the way to Falkreath, he'd travelled with Svana, who noted that the main ropes were starting to show signs of fraying. She'd have to report that when she got back, so they could be replaced. Pala saw it too. They weren't all that bad yet, and she'd have given it a few weeks longer before she reported anything. Svana didn't have bridges on her regular route, so she was more eager to show her inspection skills when she got the chance.

But the ropes had given the reporter an idea. Since the bridge was due for repair anyway, they could use it to fake the death of Uzgash and himself. "And her bear", Pala reminded him, "or else he'd stay here and look for her body." That might get the assassins off their trail, as each group, those pursuing him, and those persuing Uzgash, would think the other sabotaged the bridge.

"Pala can even draw everyone's attention to the cut ends of the ropes, which will indicate foul play. Everyone will think we were killed by the assassins, and stop hunting us." The reporter made it all sound like it would work.

Jokull agreed. "If they were hired to kill you, I'd expect both lots to try and claim responsibility. They'd all want the payment for the job."

Jokull could take the bogus news to Falkreath when he returned; the bridge would be back in place by then. Uzgash would go into hiding at the Bruma Lodge for now, as her bear could stay there without raising any suspicion. He'd want to go back to the Imperial City and get a handle on the latest events. He couldn't go back to his reporter's job, but he hadn't being doing much of that recently anyway.

Pala and Uzgash stood either side of the trail, and counted down together. Then they swung their claymore and axe at the ropes, which obliging parted at the same time, and sent the near end of the bridge swinging down towards the opposite wall of the ravine. Pala was pleased to note that the frame of the bridge hadn't suffered in the process, and the bridge deck had only lost a couple of loose planks. That would be re-hung in no time, and the patrol could resume.

They peered down at the river at the bottom. It was hard to see anything, as it flowed rapidly over several small cascades of falls, and there was a good deal of spray obscuring the view. Good for washing away bodies, even one as large as a bear.

---

Gudrun had one small objection to Uzgash staying at the Lodge. There was only one Timo, and he had enough on his plate already. The other Riders' schedules meant that he wasn't overworked right now, but if Uzgash wasn't going to be out on patrol the way the others were, things would be different.

Well, Uzgash didn't need to stay in the Lodge all the time, he reasoned. Nobody in Bruma knew who she was, so they would just think she was a fresh recruit, waiting to be assigned her patrol. She could go out with one of the other women from time to time, as part of her "training".

Gudrun cut him off. That would still put Uzgash in the Lodge at the same time as whoever she patrolled with. Yes, there would be a problem less often, but it was still there.

If he'd been at the Farm, he could have asked Darwen for ideas. She knew Bruma well, having come from here. Better than Gudrun, and the others, who only went into town shopping from time to time.

And that's when it struck him. "Do you dance?" he asked Uzgash.

She responded with a display of gyrations that left him in no doubt. There was a lot more to this woman than met the eye. And in her bear-riding outfit, most of her did meet the eye, which only amplified the effect.
---
Olaf was delighted at the proposition they had for him. He hadn't had a dancer since Darwen left town, and business just hadn't been the same. Skjorta had almost agreed to do it, but Olfand had finally decided that there were limits to what he'd tolerate, and she didn't take the job.

Uzgash and Olaf haggled for a while. She told him that she knew all about Darwen, and besides, she didn't get drunk. She knew how to stop drinking before she was the worse for it, as any good warrior would. She'd want a cut of the extra income, as well as her food and drink.

Olaf started to object, but Uzgash unbuckled her chainmail top, and Olaf forgot what he was going to say. The reporter decided she would get a good enough deal without his help, and headed back to the Lodge.

---

Uzgash returned the following morning. She good-naturedly denied his accusation that she must be half-owner of the Tap and Tack by now. It hadn't been Olaf that occupied all her time. She'd come to an agreement with him soon after the reporter left.

She'd already mentioned being a Guild member, well now she was two. She'd paid her dues a second time to the local chapter, and they'd licenced her to trade in Bruma. This Uzgash was just "Uzgash" on the register. She'd left the "gra-Marghak" in the bottom of a ravine.

Next, she'd gone to Nord Winds and bought some clothing in the local style. Something that covered her much more than her uniform, but would peel off well when she danced at Olaf's.

Then she'd gone back to Olaf with a proposal of her own. She wouldn't just draw in a crowd, she'd see to it that a room got rented for the night. The man would be paying, of course, and she'd like a piece of that, too. On top of what the man was paying her. Uzgash hadn't put too much pressure on Olaf this time, she didn't need to. And she'd celebrated her success with a few drinks, a bit of dancing, and a Nord or two. "Even after buying those extra clothes, I'm ahead," she proclaimed.

Gudrun came downstairs from her office to discuss a roster of duties that would fit in with those evenings at the Tap & Tack. Uzgash would want to to spend a decent amount of time with her bear, so something close to town was needed. And Pala had talked to her about giving Timo a bit of expert training. They'd have to work that in somehow.

It seemed that the reporter didn't need to worry about her settling in here at Bruma, and he could leave for the Imperial City whenever he wanted. "Not going to see Falanu in Skingrad?" asked Gudrun, who'd met her when she and the Champion had gone hunting for Goblin Jim. "She'll be especially pleased to see you now you're dead."

[Acadian]

Ahah! The fake yer death with a falling bridge gambit! Great idea for the reporter’s witness protection program. I can see that Uzgash is a natural on the dance floor and had to chuckle as Gudrun pointed out how the reporter was just Falanu’s style now!

[mALX]

Acadian hit exactly what I was going to say, lol. Faking the reporter's death was an awesome idea, then referring to Falanu's darker leanings - her secret is out! Lol. Great Write!

[Grits]

Uzgash is one heck of negotiator. Olav’s place (or is it Olaf's?) is going to be awesome with the regular crowd plus a dancing orc. No one will notice Ongar’s food thieving again!

[ghastley]

@Acadian, mALX: I like the "Falanu prefers you dead" idea so much I couldn't help repeating it in this one.

@Grits: True, Uzgash will be the only one looking on his direction. But if she notices what Ongar's doing, he may have to reform quickly!

---

Since we're leaving Falkreath, I thought I'd show one easter egg I just added to the mod. Fjarnheld's shop is just labelled "Falkreath Smithy" in the game, but it does have a sign outside that tells a different story.

The next part of the story picks up an idea of Acadian's that sacrificing a woman will get you a female Daedra in return. Thanks for letting me use that!

---------


Aranxa

"I need you to go and interview Falanu Hlaalu," Taminwe told him. "It only seems appropriate to send you, now you're dead."

That joke was beginning to get on his nerves, which is probably why she repeated it. But she really did want him to go to Skingrad. Tsarrina had made her monthly trip to the Red Dragon Club to do the books, and as always, they'd exchanged gossip while she worked. She'd heard from Silanu about a suspicious Altmer mage visiting her sister. She was in regular contact with Falanu through messages carried by one of their regular customers, Bjarne Long-Arm, who lived in Skingrad and visited once a week. The reporter remembered him. He was the Nord he'd met in the West Weald Inn on his first trip to Gweden, which was also when he'd met Falanu.

"I thought at first that she was describing Lathenil," explained Taminwe, "but this was someone else. Tsarrina confirmed that Lathenil was still at Gweden."

"This other mage was buying all the Columbine Root Pulp, Ginkgo Leaf, Ginseng, Nightshade, and Water Hyacinth Nectar he could lay his hands on. That made no sense to Falanu, as they're all ingredients for fortifying Magicka, and an Altmer usually has that to spare. But if they weren't for his own use, who would it be?"

"Go down to Skingrad and see if she has any more clues, and then maybe you could go on to Gweden, and finish up with Lathenil. He's probably calmed down a lot by now, so you should be able to get more from him."

The last time he'd spoken to Falanu was when he went to get the key to Miranu's laboratory, and that was quite an exhausting experience. He made a mental note to refuse any potions, ointments or the like this time, especially if Miranu made them.

---

Falanu repeated what Taminwe had told him, but added that she'd been curious about where the Altmer was going with all those ingredients he'd bought. She'd followed him after he left her shop, until it was apparent that he was leaving town through the East gate. She'd gone up to the bridge leading to the castle in time to see him pass beneath it and walk up the road. When he turned off towards Silorn, she went out on the Castle hill to watch which way he went from there. He wasn't headed for the ruin itself, but left the trail after it crossed the river. When she lost sight of him in the distance, it appeared that he was traveling due East.

"There's not much in that direction until you get to Fort Black Boot," she told him. "I've been out that way gathering ingredients before, so I know. I don't get too close to the Fort, though. There seem to be conjurers living there, from what I can tell, and I have no wish to be chased by a summoned Clannfear." She marked the fort on his map, so he'd be able to find it if he needed to.

She also described the man's robe, in case he saw him later. It was blue, like a regular mage, or conjurer, would wear, but had a border of gold writing in what looked like Daedric letters. Not a style she'd seen before.

---

When he left Skingrad, it was to the West. He needed to have another chat with Lathenil before he dealt with Fort Black Boot. That sounded more like a job for the Champion anyway, as conjurers usually hurled spells first, and talked afterward.

Freija saw him walking up to the farm and ran to meet him. "Are you crazy?" she demanded. "There could be more assassins looking for you!"

He assured her that it was much less likely now that he'd faked his death in a bridge collapse. "You'll probably read about that in the Black Horse Courier soon, " he told her. "We just need to leave enough time for an investigation, so there are some 'facts' to quote, and a few witnesses to the scene that can be interviewed."

Freija wasn't easily convinced. "If you're wandering around the country, you should have someone with you to defend you." He got the impression that she meant herself.

He reminded her that she was needed at Gweden to protect Lathenil, but that didn't sway her. "Nelrene's here, and Prizna, and Maeva, and Sugar. That's enough to look after one elf."

She hadn't mentioned Darwen. It turned out that the Bosmer was off on a bear-hunting trip, which undermined his argument further. If Darwen felt she could do that, it really had been quiet around the farm. So Lathenil wasn't attracting any attention, and that probably meant nobody knew he was here.

He went in and spoke to Lathenil. The Altmer was much more calm than he'd been the first time, but he was still adamant that the Thalmor were the root of all evil, and responsible for everything wrong with the world. He'd most likely never change his mind about that. Unfortunately he didn't have any information about their activities outside the Summerset Isle. Other than the attempts on their lives, that is.

Lathenil had no idea who the mage was that had bought the supplies from Falanu. The reporter passed on her detailed description of the man's robe, but it didn't evoke any reaction.

When the reporter went to leave, he found Freija, in her travel robe, by his side. "I'm not letting you journey back alone," she told him.

"But you're unarmed," he protested. "How are you going to protect me?"

Freija summoned her Claymore and Armor to show him. The weapon looked fearsome enough, but just skimpy plate panties? They didn't look like they'd do anything but distract the enemy. She admitted that was one purpose of her outfit, but assured him that it also held a significant Shield enchantment. She was better armored than she'd be with a full set of Steel plate. He agreed that it did look a lot better, too. Like many Nord women, she had a lot to display.

As they walked together toward Skingrad, he told her about the Altmer mage and Fort Black Boot. He'd be asking the Champion to go down there when he got back to the city. "But won't that be too late?" she asked. "It's been a day or two since he went there already. If you leave it much longer, he'll have moved on."

By the time they reached the West gate to Skingrad, she'd changed her plans from protecting him, to leading him directly into danger. Conjurers were a known quantity, and it was the unknown that worried her. She could handle a nest of conjurers on her own, and there were ways to keep him safe at the same time. His Illusion skill was quite high, as he'd made a lot use of his Charm spell, and he'd be able to sustain a useful duration of invisibility if he learned that. She was sure the Mages Guild would have that one available.

---

At the door of the fort, she made him cast the Invisibility spell before they went in. "I'll open any doors," she told him."You should be behind me anyway, watching my back, and warning me if any of them get around us. If you need to re-cast, step behind a pillar, so they don't see you doing it."

As he watched her swing into action, he was reminded that she had been a team Champion at the Arena. She certainly knew how to use that Claymore, and mowed down the conjurers with ease. But the summon spell eventually expired, just as another stepped out of a corridor behind them.

Freija had her hand raised to re-cast her bound equipment and was unaware of the threat at her back. He realized that if he called out to warn her, he'd give himself away, just as much as losing his invisiblity would. So he stabbed his shortsword into the conjurer's back as he passed. His howl of pain gave Freija all the warning she needed, and she swung her Claymore through his neck.

A charging Clannfear disolved into smoke a few feet short of the reporter, who hastily cast Invisibility again.

The corridors wound on down to a wider hallway lined with stone coffins, from which a broad stairway led up. Around the corner at the top came a hooded figure flinging shock, and the reporter had to duck behind a column. Invisible or not, that lightning was something to avoid. He heard Freija curse in a most un-ladylike manner, and a thump as someone's body hit the ground. The lightning stopped, but whether that was for lack of a source, or a target, wasn't clear.

Remembering that he was still invisible, he stepped back out to look. Freija was standing over a crumpled figure at the foot of the stairs. She moved on, cautiously now, as that last Adept had been more than she'd expected. He hurried to catch up with her.

In the chamber at the top, there was a large stone throne. Sitting on it was the largest woman he'd ever seen, at least eight feet in height, if she'd been standing. Even now, her eyes were higher than his own, and they seemed to be looking straight at him.

That was because they were. The Xivilai was a mage, and could detect his life despite the invisibility spell. She spoke directly to him.

"Who are you that has come to defy those annoying mortals that summoned me?"

He let the spell dissipate, as it seemed pointless now. He introduced the two of them to her, and was given her name, Aranxa, in return. Freija dispelled her bound equipment, and relaxed somewhat. Aranxa didn't appear to be on the conjurers' side, at least.

The huge woman rose from her seat, and led them around the corner to a stone slab, on which there was the naked body of a young Imperial woman. The hilt of a silver dagger protruded from her chest. "They sacrificed this one to bring me here, thinking they'd get a warrior in return," explained Aranxa. "But they got a healer instead. My magic is all Restoration and Mysticism, and I bear no weapons. They were not pleased. One of them attacked me with his magic, but his spells were easily reflected, and he learned a hard lesson."

"Now I'm stuck here in your world, unless you can find this woman's soul and return it. Molag Bal has accepted the exchange, and it is in his world now."

"How can we get her soul back from there?" the reporter asked. "We can't just open up a portal and go fetch it."

"You can't, but I can," she replied. "I am of that world, so it's my right to invite you there. I believe I know where the soul has been taken, too." She waved her hand towards the center of the room, and a blue swirling mist condensed into a small archway filled with blue flame.

He looked at Freija, and the two of them tried to decide if this was a trick. "Before we go," he began "Could you answer a few questions?"

He asked Aranxa what she knew of the conjurers' purpose in summoning her, or rather the Xivilai warrior they wanted. Had they said anything about that?

Not much, but the names Elsweyr and Riverhold had been mentioned. Freija and the reporter recognised those. Elsweyr was the nearest province, and Riverhold was a market town in it, just across the border from here. They might be targets for an attack, and summoned Deadra would be an untraceable weapon to use aginst them.

"I'll be here when you get back," Aranxa interrupted. "Give me your questions, and I'll think about them. You can have the answers when you return."

---

The world they emerged into was hot and dry. The sky was red, and full of threatening clouds. Lakes of lava surrounded the island of bare rock they found themselves on, and there was no immediate sign of life, or even undead.

There was also no sign of a portal to go back, so they'd have to go exploring anyway. Freija made the reporter try his invisibility, in case it didn't work here. She tested her bound equipment, too. In this heat, it was more comfortable than the thick robe, anyway.

There appeared to be only one path away from there, so they took it. At the foot of the first slope, a Dremora was waiting, and he was immediately hostile, hurling a fireball towards Freija. She dodged as she ran towards him, and the fireball sailed on into the sky.

"All threat, and not much delivery," was how Freija summed up her late opponent. "But he's just the first. Who knows how many more we'll meet."

The ones that most concerned the reporter turned out to be the fire towers. His invisibilty proved useless against them, although the fireballs were slow enough to dodge. He drew their fire, as Freija sped through to attack the Atronach beyond. That hadn't seen him, and it didn't appear smart enough to realise that the towers had a target.

The trail they were following appeared to be spiraling outward. They hadn't been able to see anything beyond the lava from where they arrived, so they were hopeful that it wouldn't be endless. The enemies seemed to be closer together now, which might also mean they were close to their goal.

And then they saw her. A ghostly pale outline of a woman stood at the end of the trail, but there was no sign of a portal to take them all back. They ran the rest of the way, but as the reporter reached out to touch the spectral woman, she dissolved into smoke.

Freija pointed to a portal that had just appeared behind where the woman had stood. "We can at least go back and find out what we should do next," she reasoned. They stepped through and found themselves back in Fort Black Boot.

---

Apparently they'd just done the right thing, as Aranxa was beaming. They'd captured the soul, and she could restore the woman to whom it belonged. "While you were gone, I looked into the fading minds of those you slew," she told them. "Unfortunately, the one who gave them their instructions was not among them. They knew little of the ultimate aims, only their own part in it, which was to summon Xivilai. Riverhold was their target once the army had been raised."

They were suprised that she could read minds, especially those of the dead.

"The memories of the dead fade rapidly," she explained. "Starting with the most recent, and going back in time. When you get old, you'll notice the same thing happening to you. And the reading of minds is invaluable to a Healer, as you can't ask an unconscious man where it hurts! It was one of the first skills I worked on."

She led them back to the woman's corpse and cast a spell. The dagger in the woman's chest faded away, and her eyes slowly opened. She looked at Freija and the reporter as if she recognised them from the Oblivion realm they'd just left, and then she noticed Aranxa.

She leaped from the slab and clung to the reporter. He cast a Calm spell on her while she was distracted. Not too much, as he didn't really want her to let go. Just enough to prevent any accidents.

Aranxa laughed as he did that, and that also helped dispel the woman's fear. "Don't worry, Alessia," she said. "I won't be here much longer. I can use that portal myself, now you're safely returned."

But before she went through, she wanted to give Freija a reward. (Alessia would reward the reporter, if she wasn't mistaken.) She'd noticed the Nord's immortality and knew that she was scared of its potential consequences. A scroll of parchment appeared in her hand. "This is a scroll of Dispel Immortality," she told her. "You haven't been immortal long enough to know if it also stops you from aging, and I can't see into the future to find out. But either way, you may want to use this at some point. It is useless to anyone else, of course, so it has no value, but I think you'll consider it priceless."

---

"How did she know my name?" asked Alessia, after the Xivilai had gone.

"The same way she knew about my curse," replied Freija. "Not that it's a curse any more, now I have this scroll."

Alessia looked puzzled. How did she beome immortal? And why would she think that a curse?

"We can talk about that on the way back to your home," the reporter replied. "Assuming that you don't mind wearing a ripped and blood-stained conjurer's robe to travel in."

Freija cut him off. She'd just found Alessia's own clothes in a chest by the slab. No bloodstains on them, so they must have stripped her before she was stabbed. The reporter was disappointed. He'd hoped that Alessia would prefer to do without, rather than wear a conjurer's robe.

The look Freija gave him said that she knew what was he was thinking. She changed the subject. "Did you notice that the conjurers here were all Altmer?" she asked.

"Well, they're normally that or Breton, who don't have quite as much Magicka. I'd think you need the extra to be able to summon Daedra all the time. Even more for a Xivilai, that's an Expert-level spell just to summon one temporarily. Perhaps that's why they needed all the potions, if they were trying to do a permanent summoning."

"But it still required a soul exchange, even with that boost," Freija reminded him. "So I can't see them trying this often."

She had a point, but the Altmer factor had him wondering again if there wasn't something real behind Lathenil's paranoia. He'd have to discuss that with Taminwe. As Aranxa had mentioned, the mage that had visited Falanu's shop wasn't here. They'd have soon spotted that robe of his among the plain ones.

The three of them travelled on to the Imperial City. Alessia had been a chambermaid at the Tiber Septim Hotel before her abduction, and she hoped she still had her job. It was quite the best she'd ever had, as she got free board, and Augusta Calidia had hinted that she could earn a bit extra if she offered extra services to the male guests. She wasn't sure about that part any more, as it was what got her into this mess to start with. She didn't remember anything after she went into that elf's room.

Still, it wasn't a required part of the job, she thought, and she'd have to see if Augusta still considered her one of the staff. The reporter pointed out that the Red Dragon Club was open for business again, so there were alternatives, both for the Tiber Septim guests and Alessia.

Allesia was pleased to find that she'd been missed, but not dismissed. She hurried off to catch up on the cleaning duties she'd left undone. Freija decided that the reporter would be safe enough now he was so close to the Club, and left to return to Gweden. She advised him to find himself a bodyguard he could trust. "You're a lover, not a fighter," she reminded him. "Your instincts when you meet someone new are totally wrong for someone with assassins looking for him. You need a companion who's not so trusting, if only to make you think first."

He walked around the corner to the Red Dragon Club. He had a report to make.


--------------

In the playable version of this episode, Freija is not involved because you as Champon of Cyrodiil are quite capable of taking on the conjurers yourself. However, I did provide an option for the player to select the scroll of Dispel Immortality as a reward, and give it to her. You get an extra Fame point for doing that. See the walkthrough here for details. (Warning - naked Xivilai!)

This post has been edited by ghastley: Feb 14 2019, 08:34 PM

[Acadian]

‘He heard Freija curse in a most un-ladylike manner, and a thump as someone's body hit the ground. The lightning stopped, but whether that was for lack of a source, or a target, wasn't clear.’
This was a nice bit of wording here to capture the confusion.

What a pleasure to see several elements of what Buffy learned while helping Savlian clear the conjurors from Fort Agarctova make their way into this episode!

For a moment, I thought Aranxa would end up in a Cyrodiil brothel. I imagine she would damage the customers much more than even Sugar!

[mALX]

*

Ooh, nice easter egg catch!

That joke was beginning to get on his nerves, which is probably why she repeated it.

Loved this little character trait detail, lol.

That was because they were. The Xivilai was a mage, and could detect his life despite the invisibility spell. She spoke directly to him.

"Who are you that has come to defy those annoying mortals that summoned me?"

He let the spell dissipate, as it seemed pointless now

I always love it when in game NPC's use life detect! Awesome touch!

"While you were gone, I looked into the fading minds of those you slew," she told them. "Unfortunately, the one who gave them their instructions was not among them. They knew little of the ultimate aims, only their own part in it, which was to summon Xivilai. Riverhold was their target once the army had been raised."

They were suprised that she could read minds, especially those of the dead.

"The memories of the dead fade rapidly," she explained. "Starting with the most recent, and going back in time. When you get old, you'll notice the same thing happening to you. And the reading of minds is invaluable to a Healer, as you can't ask an unconscious man where it hurts! It was one of the first skills I worked on."

This was a spectacular bit of world building! Absolutely Loved this idea!

This update goes on my list of top favorites so far - Awesome update !! Great Write!



*

[Grits]

From the alchemical mystery all the way back to the Red Dragon Club, this was a tremendously fun adventure. After the young reporter gave that conjurer a poke with his shortsword and then took a walk through Oblivion, I worried that he might decide he was a warrior. I’m glad that Freija reminded him where his real strengths lie.

[ghastley]

@Acadian: - I'm sure Tsarrina would have tried to add Aranxa to the staff if she could. It's one of the main attractions of Gweden that every race in Tamriel and beyond is represented there. However, she'd have to have the ceilings raised in the farmhouse, so it might have been a bit expensive!

@mALX: - I like to try and add the practical (i.e. non-combat) use of magic wherever I can. It's one of the features I like most in other people's stories.

@Grits: - He'll get reminded of that a few more times in the next few episodes! And in this one, he'll even think it himself.

Since I've run out of Gweden/Red Dragon Club-related quests to relate (until I add a few more), we're going to branch off and meet Angeline and Diablita.

---------------

A Shack on the Waterfront

"You haven't been back to your apartment since you 'died', have you?" asked Taminwe.

The reporter acknowledged that he hadn't. He'd wanted to, but it didn't seem like a good idea. He never spent much time there anyway, and he didn't really have anything stored there that he couldn't replace. Some of it he really should replace anyway. He needed a better sword, and his spare armor needed repairs.

Taminwe reminded him that he hadn't paid the rent on it either. They probably had a new tenant already. She told him he needed to get a new place, and she had heard that there was a shack up for sale in the Waterfront district, behind the harbor wall.

"That den of thieves! Why would I want to live there?" he protested.

"Because it's the most heavily patrolled part of the city. Because the crime rate is actually the lowest there - really! I don't know if it's all the extra patrols by the Watch, or if there's just nothing worth stealing, but you hardly ever hear of an actual crime down there. Yes, they find stolen goods from time to time, but they're always stolen somewhere else."

He remembered that he'd met quite a few of the people who lived down there already. They'd been at the Bloated Float when he went there with Sugar. He'd liked those people. Methredhel, Adanrel, Carwen, Praxedes - no wait, she lived somewhere else, didn't she? And he wasn't sure if Minx had gone there after she got out of jail. Selene and Ormil, too. That meant that he was known, in return, so it didn't seem to be a good place to hide.

Taminwe contradicted him. As the stronghold of the Thieves Guild, it was just the place to go. Someone could disappear there if they wanted to, and knew the right people. The way she said it suggested he already did. They weren't the kind to rat on their friends, and he had got to know a lot of them very well. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea.

He set off for the Market District, and the Office of Imperial Commerce.

---

Vinicia Melissaeia accepted his 2000 Septims, and handed him a key. "I assume you don't want this sale registered in your real name. Nobody in that district ever does. Traditionally, we enter the owner as Emer Dareloth, without a signature. Will you be doing the same?"

That sounded like a good idea. "I won't break with tradition," he told her. "That's never good for your luck."

Vinicia reminded him that the place had minimal furniture at present, just a bed and a table. "I'm not sure if there's even a chair to sit on. But you can get the furnishings at the Three Brothers store when you need it. They'll deliver it, too!"

He thanked her, and set off for his new home. He wasn't sure if he'd need anything major in the way of furnishings, just a few chests to store things in, but he would need a least one chair! Vinicia had told him that there was a basement, maybe he'd find something down there that he could bring up and use. Maybe a stool that would serve until he bought something better.

When he opened the door, he saw that she hadn't been exaggerating at all. The bed was a single one, and there wasn't room for a larger one there , without blocking the doorway. A small round table occupied most of the other half of the room, and there was nowhere to sit but on the bed. There was at least a solid-looking fireplace and chimney, so he wouldn't be cold.

There wasn't a trapdoor in sight to access the basement, which was a good thing, as it wouldn't restrict where could put any chairs or chests he added. He assumed that there must be a door on the outside, probably round the back.

Sure enough, there was a double hatch door covering the entrance and the same key as the front door fit the lock. He glanced behind him at the level of Lake Rumare, and noted that there wasn't a lot of depth available for a basement. He hoped he wouldn't find standing water down there.

---

The last thing he expected to find was the two young women that rushed to him as soon as the doors opened. One of them looked like a Breton, but with a Nord's flaxen hair. The other was unlike any race he'd encountered before. She had red skin, horns like a Dremora, and hooves and a tail!

They were both eager to get out into the sunlight, but their eyes were blinking furiously as they'd obviously spent some time in the dark. In the bright light of day, he could almost see through the blonde's dress, which was made of white lace. While he couldn't quite make out the interesting details, it was clear that she wasn't wearing anything under it.

The darker woman wore only tattoos and chains, if you didn't count the hair on her lower legs. Her ample breasts held up well on their own, but were also supported by chains that ran between her pierced nipples, and a spiked collar around her neck. There were a few other piercings and chains in intimate locations. And on her back, she carried a pitchfork.

When she finished rubbing her eyes, she introduced herself as Diablita, and the other was her sister(!) Angeline. She corrected herself. "Half-sister, that is. We have the same father, but different mothers. We're sort of twins, too, born on the same day."

He asked how they came to be locked in his basement. "Well, of course it wasn't locked when we went in there. We'd just got off a ship in the harbor, where we'd been stowaways, and it looked like a good place to hide for a while."

They'd brought bedrolls with them, and they'd found barrels of food stored in the basement, so they'd survived well enough. They were running out of wine and beer, though, and didn't like the idea of drinking from the little pool of water in the corner. There were a couple of stools, too, which was all the news he wanted.

Except that he needed to decide what to do with these two. They pleaded with him to let them stay for a while, as they had nowhere else to go. "We can be useful," said Angeline. "I'm a pretty decent archer and spell-caster, and Diablita's fork is like a mage's staff. It produces a nasty fireball."

Diablita admitted that she'd rather swing a sword or hammer than use the pitchfork, but she didn't have either right now, and it was good to have a ranged attack as well. "We can heal ourselves, too, and aren't much affected by diseases or poisons."

They weren't mentioning what else they could do for him, but they had cuddled up to either side of him to make it obvious. He found himself thinking that they were both fairly small, so they wouldn't take up much room, and Freija had suggested he get a bodyguard, and ...

"Just for a while," he consented. "This is a pretty tiny shack, and we'll find it's a tight squeeze for all of us. Don't expect it to be a permanent solution."

He was a little worried that such a conspicuous pair of companions would draw attention to him. He had also wanted to draw on his waterfront contacts to appear to be a long-term resident of the area. Having these two in tow might make it harder to pick up where he left off with the Bosmers, and Minx.

On the other hand, they'd be a distraction, and he did need a bodyguard, to keep any assassins at bay. He carried the two stools up to the ground floor, and sat down on the bed to talk to the "twins". They ignored the stools, and sat on the bed, too, either side of him. It was becoming obvious that they worked as a team, and each knew what the other was thinking. He interrupted their plans by asking them where they'd come from. They'd mentioned being stowaways, and they obviously weren't from around here.

The two exchanged glances, and apparently elected Angeline to do the talking, while Diablita continued to entwine herself around him and nibble his other ear. She explained how they'd grown up on a volcanic island somewhere in the seas south of the Topal Bay. They'd lost their parents, and the island's only source of fresh water, when the lava dome their house had been built on collapsed into the bottom of the crater.

She didn't want to go into any details right now, there would be time for that later. But they'd been in the basement for a long time without a man, and some needs were just more urgent than story-telling.

---

There may have been enough room in the bed for the three of them to do that, but there certainly wasn't room to sleep afterwards. The girls fetched their bedrolls from the basement and laid them out on the floor. There was only just enough room to do so, and it wasn't going to be a workable arrangement once he had a few chests added.

He'd only just moved in, and already he was in the market for a larger house! He'd want to keep this one as a City base, but he should be on the lookout for something that had enough bedrooms for each of them. That wasn't going to be cheap, but It would be their home, and they could help him raise the gold.

Adventuring around the countryside might be another good way to stay out of public view for a while, too. He'd not done that before, as he wasn't so confident of his ability to survive that kind of life, but maybe they'd be safer as a team. He'd discuss the idea with them when they woke up tomorrow.

---

Of course, they jumped at the idea of living in a home with room to move. Their home on the island had been a bit bigger than this place, but it was almost as cramped with its five inhabitants. Their parents' bedroom had been no larger than this one, although it did have a bed large enough for the three. The girls had slept in bunks in a small room on the other side of the house that was not much more than a closet. The room in between served as dining room, kitchen, workshop and everything else.

Their father had built it from the wood from a shipwreck, and there wasn't much that came ashore. Some of the interior walls were made out of crates that had washed up with it, so they were thin, and not very strong. He'd built it in the crater of the dead volcano, so that it would be out of the wind, because it probably couldn't have stood up to much. That was also where the only fresh water collected in a small pool.

The soil of the rest of the island was too sandy for the rain to stay on the surface, but the volcanic ash in the crater was more fertile, and they managed to grow a few vegetables up there. There were fish and clams in the bay, which had been the crater of an earlier eruption, and formed a natural harbor.

They told him how ships would shelter in the bay whenever there was a storm threatening at sea, and they'd get to trade with the sailors for goods they couldn't make for themselves. They had produce from their little garden, and some fruits grew wild on the slopes of the island, too. The sailors would appreciate something fresh, after living off preserved food while they were at sea, and they got a fair deal. Gold was useless, with nowhere to spend it, but timber and nails, and needles and thread were even better. Sometimes they'd have ingredients that could be used for alchemy.

---

They were eager to get started with earning their keep, so the three of them walked around the shoreline to a cave they could just see from the back of the shack. They could take a look inside and see if there was any treasure hidden there. The reporter knew that bandits often stashed their loot in caves like that, so there was a decent chance for it. Naturally, there was also a chance to find the bandits, but they'd cross that bridge when they came to it.

Which was a few feet inside the door. A shout from above them told them they'd been spotted, and an arrow flew past the reporter's head. Angeline returned fire with her own bow, and Diablita's pitchfork sent a fireball to chase the arrow. A singed and pierced bandit fell from the ledge above, injuring himself further in the fall. To compound his problems, he fell on a trip wire, and a large log swung down just as he was trying to pick himself up.

They weren't so lucky with the next bandit. He came running down the pathway with a large hammer raised above his head. The log was between him and the three adventurers, so they moved around it to keep things that way. Without a ranged attack, and unable to reach them, he eventually fell, too.

Now they had some better armor and equipment from the first two, they could deal with the remaining bandits as they came to them. By moving slowly, and healing themselves as they went, they could out-fight each individual they encountered. They found a few chests with gold and other items as they progressed, but the main value seemed to be in the armor and weapons they were taking from their adversaries.

The last bandit was a tough one, presumably the leader of this bunch, and they noticed a glow on the man's armor. Probably enchanted with something, they thought. There was a better haul of gold and gems in the chest in this part of the cave, too. His sword was of better quality than the one the reporter had been using, and defied his attempts to repair it. Most likely enchanted too, he thought.

They had just about as much as they could carry as they worked their way back to the cave entrance. The sky was beginning to darken as they emerged, and they knew they wouldn't get to the Market district before the shops closed. They'd just have to stow their haul in the basement and sell it the next day.

There were a few bottle of quite decent wine amongst the other stuff, and that wasn't going to bring them a lot of cash, so they decided to drink some before they turned in for the night. Perhaps that made it easier for the women to continue their tale of life on the Island.

Diablita, this time, took up the narrative. "When we were small, our father kept us in the house whenever there was a ship in the harbor. Our mothers would go down and do all the trading with the sailors. Father told us that they were much better at it than he was, and we assumed he meant haggling for a good deal."

"Eventually we noticed that our mothers sometimes came back really late, even the following morning. Usually only one of them, but as we grew up, it seemed more likely that they'd both stay out late. Father didn't look too happy when that happened."

"After a while we figured out that they had more to trade than he did. Until they brought the captain of one ship home with them. She was an elf of some kind, Bosmer I think, and she was really pretty. Father seemed to think so, anyway. They all disappeared into the adult's bedroom, and we heard laughter and other noises for a while."

"Our mothers went back down to the dock shortly after that, leaving her behind. We didn't see any of them until morning. Father looked a lot happier on that occasion! He looked a bit tired, though, and so did she."

"It wasn't long after that Angeline went into the adult's room, and found one of our mothers' toys lying on the bed. We hadn't ever seen one of those before. It was pretty obvious what it was, though. Very realistic, though maybe a bit smaller than the only example of the real thing we'd ever seen."

"Of course, she tried it out before she told me anything about finding it. Eventually I started wondering where she was and went and found her, still playing with it. I only got a turn by threatening to tell her mother."

"We left it where Angeline found it, and it got put away again, but a few days later there was another one in the same place. This one was a bit bigger, and made out of lacquered wood. It wasn't as life-like as the first one, and the end was more tapered. I found it this time, so I got the first try."

"When we found the third one, we guessed that they'd been left out for us deliberately, so we asked our mothers about it. Angela - that's my sister's mother - said nothing, but she handed us a small key and sent us off to their room. We found that it fit the lock on a small chest with all the rest of the toys."

"Some of them were made for two people. That made us think. It meant that our mothers could use them together, with or without Father's help. They'd never spoken about their life before we were born, and we'd assumed that they'd always been together. Perhaps that wasn't true."

The reporter asked if they'd kept any of the toys.

"No, they were lost with the rest of the house, when it fell down the crater. If we still had them, we could have lasted a lot longer in your basement!"

That appeared to be Angeline's cue for wanting the real thing again, so the story was shelved for the night.

This post has been edited by ghastley: Sep 11 2012, 01:31 AM

[Acadian]

“Traditionally, we enter the owner as Emer Dareloth, without a signature. Will you be doing the same?"
I really liked this, since denizens of the Waterfront are well familiar with the name.

Gosh, how handy to find such a pretty pair in one’s basement! Naughty and Nice bookends!

‘His sword was of better quality than the one the reporter had been using, and defied his attempts to repair it. Most likely enchanted too, he thought.’
Nice nod to the game’s mechanics regarding repairing gear.

Nits:
‘They way she said it suggested he already did.’
I believe you meant 'The' instead of 'They'.

‘That sounded like a good idea. "I won't break with tradition," he told her. "That's never good for your Luck."
Vinicia reminded him that the place had minimal furniture at present, just a bed and a table. "I'm not sure if there's even a chair to sit on. But you can get the furnishings at the Three Brothers store when you need it. They'll deliver it, too!"
1. Not sure why you capitalized luck.
2. This needs to be two paragraphs. I suspect you meant it to be and the space between perhaps got lost in the posting.

‘Sometimes they'd have ingredients that could be used for Alchemy.‘
As above with luck, are you sure you want to capitalize alchemy?

[Grits]

How fun! I loved Angeline and Diablita’s island home even before I read about their mothers’ treasure chest.

I had such nostalgia for the Waterfront reading this. And I’ve always wondered what was under that basement door.

He'd only just moved in, and already he was in the market for a larger house!

I’m sure that’s true of many who move into that place! Though it’s a definite favorite of mine.

The cave adventure was great fun, and so true to the budding adventurer's game experience. Drinking the wine was an especially nice touch. After all, the shops were closed, so they might as well lighten the load.

[mALX]

LOVED this beginning and the concept of the Thieves Guild keeping his secrets if he keeps theirs - even when he didn't know they had them, lol. Great philosphy!

I wondered if those two would still be in that shack - it's been a long time since you put them in there, lol. I remember when you were first making this section of the mod! Great Write!

[ghastley]

@Acadian: Nice and Naughty applies to each of them, but together....!

@Grits: Dzonot cave was a perfect place to establish that the reporter may know his way around Tamriel, but that doesn't include the dangerous parts. (Unless you count Sugar, and Uzgash)

@mALX: It's a good thing I put respawning barrels of food and wine down there with them!

Last time we left the reporter with more women than his shack could handle, and a growing realisation that he's not the adventurer type. This episode will confirm that. The sisters will start to learn a few things about the world beyond their island, too.

----

Arborwatch

In the morning they retrieved their collection of bandit equipment from the basement and set off for the Market District to see what it would fetch at Jensine's. The reporter wasn't expecting much, but the offer Diablita got for the first piece was much lower than he could believe. "Let me handle this," he said, and took over the haggling. The price immediately went up considerably, and he made the deals on all the remaining items. The enchanted items got a nice premium, too. They'd decided that they weren't worth keeping if they couldn't be repaired, but Jensine didn't see it that way. She could sell them to people who had the ability to fix them.

He shouldn't have been surprised when he got the better deals. Jensine had never seen anyone like Diablita before, and probably thought she was Mehrunes Dagon's daughter. He'd also had a lot more practice at dealing with shopkeepers than the sisters, if they had any at all.

Angeline had noticed that. She proposed that she and Diablita would do all the dungeon-diving, if he'd do all the selling. They'd seen that he wasn't comfortable with fighting, and they'd like to keep him alive for the things that he did do well. She hoped that included map-making, as they'd need to know the good places to look.

He bought a couple of blank maps of Cyrodiil from Jensine, and marked on them the places he knew. Mostly, they were just ones that he'd passed by on the roads, but there were a few that other people had told him about. In particular, he pointed out Rockmilk cave, and Fort Nikel. Those were locations where bandits and marauders were always fighting each other for possession of the hideout, and there was a good chance one could just go and pick up the pieces when they'd wiped each other out.

"Rockmilk's a long way away from the city," Angeline noted. "But Fort Nikel's just up the road from the Talos Bridge. I bet we could go there and be back before it gets dark." She and Diablita scampered off across the plaza toward the gate to the Eleven Gardens before he could say anything.

He decided that this would be a good time to see what the Three Brothers had to offer in the way of storage. And maybe buy himself a chair, too.

---

The amount of stuff they dumped on the floor of the shack left him amazed. He didn't understand how they'd managed to bring back so much. Diablita told him they'd found a couple of feather potions in a chest at the Fort, and they'd lasted just long enough to get home.

That was how she put it. "Home", not "back here". He had a sinking feeling that his life wasn't his own any more.

They picked through the heap, deciding what to keep and what to sell. Some of it was better than the equipment they had, so their old things went on the "sell" pile in their place. Not much of the armor would fit Diablita, with her large breasts and beast-shaped legs, but there were a few plate pieces she thought she could adapt. Angeline didn't have that problem, but she was just as choosy in what she'd wear. It seemed to him that looks outweighed protection in her selections, but he said nothing.

---

He couldn't carry all the loot to the Market District at one time, so it took several trips across town before he'd sold it all. He'd also decided to sell the armor at The Best Defense, and the Weapons at A Fighting Chance, to get the best deals. Jensine still got all the jewelry and gems, as Hamloff was harder to haggle with at the Red Diamond. All of that added up to extra time taken with his side of the enterprise, so it was getting dark again when he returned to the shack and found the sisters there with their next load.

There wasn't as much this time, as they hadn't found any feather potions. They told him they'd had to leave some stuff behind, and they wanted him to come and help fetch it. They had turned the other way after they crossed the Talos Bridge, and had found Fanacasecul. They thought it was another bandit hideout at first, because there were a couple of them camped just outside, apparently guarding the entrance.

"But when we got inside, we found it was full of undead," Diablita complained. "And I hate zombies, they remind me of my sister."

The main reason they needed him wasn't the weight of the loot, but that they couldn't unlock some of the casks they'd found. He produced some lockpicks, and showed them how to use them. Angeline seemed to get the hang of it right away, and broke less of the lockpicks than he did. He made a note to go see Shady Sam and get a few more anyway.

He also found that there were Welkynd stones all around the place that they hadn't collected. They didn't know that they were valuable, they just appeared to be a useful source of a little light. He found ten of them, which would be a nice addition to their haul. He also collected Mort Flesh from the dead zombies, which got an "Eeeuw!" reaction from the sisters until he told them what it was worth to an alchemist.

Diabla, the mother of Diablita, had been an alchemist, so she knew what he was talking about. Some ingredients she just didn't know, because they hadn't been available on the Island. It seemed that none of the ships wanted to carry Mort Flesh in their cargo, so they'd never had any to trade. Bonemeal, crab meat, and things like that were well-known, and Diablita had some idea of how to combine them with other things. She had her own mortar and pestle, but all the other apparatus she'd owned had been lost with the house.

He told her he'd get the glassware from the Main Ingredient when he went to sell everything, but she'd have to do her alchemy in the basement. He'd ask Phintias about any books he had that listed Tamriel's ingredients, or would help her increase her skills. Alchemy was a good way to make some gold, as most potions were worth much more than the ingredients that went into them.

Angeline wasn't too happy with her sister's skills getting all the attention. Her mother had been a mage too, but she specialised in Destruction and Mysticism.

"Do you know how to Soul Trap?" asked the reporter.

"In theory," she replied. "I know the spell, but there weren't any soul gems on the Island for me to practise."

The reporter had found a petty gem in the last cask they opened, so they went looking for a mudcrab as they walked home along the shore.

"I'll find out how much extra this sells for tomorrow, but I suspect we'll want to use it for enchanting. I can get a contact at the Arcane University to put Night-eye on a ring for you. That will make it easier to see where you're going in the ruins."

"Oh, I can just use my light spell for that," Angeline told him, but he pointed out that it made her more visible too. Night-eye was better for an archer who wanted to be sneaky. Diablita wanted one too. If her sister wasn't lighting the place up, she wouldn't be able to see.

"Well if you want one, you'll have to find another gem, and get it filled," he told her. "They're not that uncommon, especially in dungeons with Conjurers or Necromancers." Then he had to explain what those were. Diablita liked the idea of summoning extra help. Could she learn to do that?

He thought about that for a while. They weren't carrying much, and they were close to Weye. If they walked past Fort Nikel instead of taking the road to the Talos Bridge, they could journey on to Chorrol, and Diablita could learn a Conjuration spell or two at the Mages Guild there. It meant travelling at night, but Angeline had just told him about her light spell, so why not?

---

They bought Diablita's glassware, and a calcinator, from Angalmo, and she tried it out by making a few potions and poisons. Then they got all their money back and more by selling the results of her efforts to him. Diablita was delighted by her success, and wanted to do more.

He was happy to have someone else do the work of mixing and refining, so he sold them more ingredients, and bought back the potions and poisons she made. Meanwhile, Angeline had bought all his empty soul gems, and had gone out of the city gate to go look for rats.

Athragar tested Diablita's Conjuration skill and found that she already had enough natural ability to summon creatures. "I'd normally start people off summoning Bound Daggers or Gauntlets, but she's ready for Scamps, Skeletons or Ghosts." Since she had a fireball attack of her own, she opted for a Summon Skeleton spell. It was a good thing that Angeline wasn't here to see how well her sister was doing, or she'd have been very jealous.

It wasn't long before she returned, a little out of breath. She'd got a bit more than she bargained for in the mine just out of town, where she'd found the rats she was hunting, but also a few goblins. She'd backed up and used her bow on them, but they'd pursued her relentlessly, and she'd had to resort to her spells when they caught up. And there were too many to handle on her own, she'd been forced to run back to the city gate and get help from the guards.

"Mr Bones here can help next time," said Diablita, and summoned her new skeleton right next to her sister. Angeline jumped when she did that, and Diablita giggled like a little schoolgirl.

She regretted that pretty quickly as Angeline had filled all the soul gems she'd taken with her, and threatened to just sell them all. Diablita needed one of those if she was going to get her own Night-eye ring.

---

All the rivalry was forgotten, however, when they left the Guild and turned down the street toward the shops. The house next door had a "for sale" sign sitting outside it. It looked big enough for all of them, and it had a garden out the back, too. "As big as the garden we had on the Island," Diablita pointed out. "We could grow some of our own ingredients!"

They made inquiries at Northern Goods and Trade when they sold the other items they'd brought. They got a very good price for the Welkynd Stones, and a fair one on the bandit's gear. Seed-Neeus owned the house they'd seen, Arborwatch, and she could sell them the furniture for it, too. "You'll have to pay the Countess for the house," she told them. "She's the agent for all home sales, because she has to handle all the registration of the deeds. Actually her secretary does all the work, but it's still a Castle responsibility. She adds a commission to the price, so you'll have to speak to her to find out what it will cost you."

20,000 Septims was a bit more than they'd accumulated so far, but they weren't far short. "We need furniture, too," Angeline reminded him. They went back to Seed-Neeus to find out what that would cost.

"We don't have to buy everything at once," he reasoned, "so we could start with the bedrooms and add the other things later. Once we have a base here, we should be able to earn enough for the rest in short order."

That sounded like a plan, so they set off back to the Waterfront to put it into action.

---

A few weeks later, they were back in Chorrol with enough gold to buy the house, and furnish the bedrooms. Careful haggling by the reporter squeezed the dining room into their budget, too. The study, seating area and wallhangings would have to wait.

"Who wants to open the door?" he asked. Of course they both did, until he announced that the other would get first choice of bedroom. So he opened the door, and and they all rushed in.

The place was huge compared to their shack. The floor was stone, instead of dirt, and so were the stairs leading up to the bedrooms. He was expecting arguments about who got which, but that seemed to sort itself out without any. He got the largest one, with the biggest bed, but apparently he'd be expected to share that most of the time. The two small rooms with the single beds had their differences, and each one appealed more to a different sister. "I don't think I could handle all the space in the Suite," Diablita said. That room's bigger than our whole house was on the island!"

That didn't stop both of them spending the night there with him. They'd sleep in their separate beds when he wasn't there.

They stayed in Chorrol for a week, raising the money to finish furnishing the place. The sisters were delighted to have rugs on the floors, and paintings and tapestries on the walls, all luxuries they'd never known before. But even when their own rooms were decorated to the same level of opulence, his was the only one they occupied at night.

The reporter wanted to pay a visit to the Red Dragon Club, in case Taminwe felt it was time for him to get back to his job. He'd not really settled his new identity into the Waterfront District either, and he wanted to consolidate that base even if he did have another home now. A pied-a-terre in the capital would be useful any time it wasn't safe to go to the Club. He left the sisters exploring the countryside around Chorrol while he went back down the Black Road with the Legion patrol for cover.

Taminwe didn't have anything that needed him right away. The Altmer mage that he'd missed at Fort Black Boot seemed to have gone into Elsweyr somewhere to try and stir up more trouble there. They had agents in that province who'd take over now.

He went back to the little shack on the Waterfront. It really did look bare after Arborwatch, but he remembered that he'd never purchased any of the upgrades. There hadn't been room for any furniture while the sisters' bedrolls were taking up all the floorspace. He had enough spare cash to make the place cozy, so that was the next business on the agenda.

With a much better-looking place to take a girl back to, he went searching for Minx and the Bosmers. It seemed that Minx had gone back to the Leyawiin area after she was released.

Methredhel was still seeing the man she'd been with at the Bloated Float. She'd not been seen much around their shack, presumably his place gave them more privacy.

Adanrel had come out of her shell, instead of just out of her clothes, and she had a lot more confidence in herself after that night. She'd found herself a boyfriend on the other side of town, and you never saw her here any more.

Carwen pretty much had the place to herself, and she was making the most of it. She didn't have a steady boyfriend like the others, but she wasn't alone at night either.

Selene was still happily working the Bloated Float with Ormil. They were planning to get married as soon as they had time for a honeymoon away from the city. He paid them a visit for his lunch, and had an excellent meal while he chatted to the other customers. Most of them were dockworkers who either lived on the Waterfront or in the nearby districts of the city.

Ormil told him that the evening crowd was a bit different. Since word had leaked out about the night Sugar and he had dropped in, he'd had quite a few private parties booked here by city folk who'd previously looked down on the place as just another dockside dive. They tended to have the whole place closed to the public on those nights, though. On the other nights, most of the customers were single men. "They're alway disappointed, but that makes them drink more." Ormil told him with a huge grin on his face.

Carwen dropped in for some lunch, just as he was about to leave. She spotted him, and came over to join him. She wanted to thank him for what he'd done for Adanrel. "She's a completely different woman these days."

He quickly pointed out everyone else's role in that. Methredhel, Sugar, Jair had all played a part. Armand and Praxedes had moved it up a notch, too, or was that down, or just off? Carwen laughed.

"Adanrel remembers you in particular. She can't explain why. It wasn't like she spent all of her time with you that night."

Now it was his turn to laugh. Adanrel had made a point of sampling every man she could, in every way she could. He'd just taken what he was offered, and paid back more than he was given. And he was embarrassed that he couldn't remember if he'd done anything with Carwen. There was bare Bosmer all over the place that night, and you couldn't always see a face.

She admitted that she wasn't sure either, for much the same reasons.

"So what have you been up to since?" they both asked at once. He told her that he'd just bought the little shack at the end of the row, but he hadn't spent much time there recently.

Carwen looked rather disappointed when he said that. She confessed that she'd intended to offer him a bed for the night, hers of course, but he wouldn't need that, would he? And she wasn't sure that bedding her neighbors was a good idea, if she wasn't looking for a long-term relationship. Forget the "if", she wasn't. She was having too much fun being free and single.

He told her about his other house in Chorrol, and how he wasn't going to be a resident, so much as an occasional visitor. The smile came back to her face when he suggested she knock on his door tonight if she hadn't made other arrangements.

---

The knock was a lot louder than he was expecting, and the face he saw when he opened the door wasn't hers. There was an Imperial Watchman instead, asking if he'd seen the Grey Fox. "We know he's somewhere here on the Waterfront" the iron-clad legionary told him. "Nobody's leaving their house until we find him."

He saw Carwen in the doorway just up and across the street. She blew him a kiss, and made a sad face. They were both confined, and separated, until the Watch completed its search.

---

The curfew was still in place hours later. He gave up and went to bed alone.

The following morning Carwen had already left for work, or whatever she did, in the city, so he left her a note, and set out for Chorrol to try and forget this missed opportunity. He'd at least established his being a resident with one of the right people, as Taminwe termed the Thieves Guild. And he'd have other opportunities later.

This post has been edited by ghastley: Sep 18 2012, 06:21 PM

[Acadian]

Heh, I got several chuckles from this episode:

‘Jensine had never seen anyone like Diablita before, and probably thought she was Mehrunes Dagon's daughter.’

"And I hate zombies, they remind me of my sister."

‘There was bare Bosmer all over the place that night, and you couldn't always see a face.’

And one small nit here:
‘...as they'd need to know the good places too look.’
You want ‘to’ instead of ‘too’ of course.

[Heather V]

Oooooh! This seems interesting!

I've always loved the sirens quest so this story immediatly captured my attention! It's based on a mod you're creating? I'm still on the first couple of pages so i don't know if the mods been completed or not, but this is really great. As with the others im starting from the beginning I wont clog your thread with out of date comments, unless I have to comment on something I couldn't NOT comment on! haha

[ghastley]

... It's based on a mod you're creating?...

Actually, it's about four released so far, and another in the works. The central character in this doesn't actually appear in them, and the player character (The Champion of Cyrodiil) is also out of sight most of the time in this story. Other than being arbitrarily male, the CoC is of no fixed race, and may be a mage, fighter or assassin, or more likely all of those! He's not a thief, though, as you'll find out soon.

[Grits]

Fun sibling rivalry. With the skills he demonstrated in this episode, I’m sure the young reporter will find a way to benefit from it.

There was bare Bosmer all over the place that night, and you couldn't always see a face.

Of course that line was a big hit with the Nord.