A Holiday in Morrowind, OR: How Eilidh got her mojo back Options

[PhonAntiPhon]

"You should go to Morrowind." Said her friend Callius. "I have some friends in Ald'ruhn, I can give you a letter of introduction if you like."

Eilidh, who'd had a difficult year what with a failed relationship, a fifty thousand septim loss on a business deal with a meadery in Skyrim which had subsequently failed; not to mention a slow and creeping sense of boredom and general malaise, gave the idea some brief consideration and agreed.
She'd never visited the area, indeed since arriving at Anvil some three years previously she had not left Cyrodiil, she knew little about the region; Callius had told her something of it but that was all. It would make a pleasant get away and also maybe reignite a little of the expeditionary spirit that she'd always enjoyed and which had formed such a big part of her previous military career back in her homeland across the sea.

It turned out that Callius' hometown was not on the Morrowind mainland but was instead located in Vvardenfell, a large island in the Inner Sea. After the briefest of searches - (it helped if one was a monied Princess, even a foreign one) - Eilidh was able to charter a cabin aboard a scheduled Imperial brigantine bound for Seyda Neen, a small Imperial settlement to the southwest of the island.
The Captain, one Marcus Lucillius, was the perfect gentleman as indeed were the officers and ratings, at least up on deck and in his presence. Eilidh was not naive enough however to assume they would be the same were she to venture into the dimness of their world below the deck, and so limited herself to her cabin, the captain's, and the aft, by the wheel.

The journey took some two days or thereabouts, and Eilidh spent the time either playing cards with Captain Marcus, writing in her journal, or hanging over the side of the boat and breathing in the salty air whilst staring out over the calm and deep waters of the Inner Sea; the wood creaking and the rigging and sails slapping as they came ever closer to Seyda Neen.
For the first time in a long while she felt a growing excitement and anticipation in her breast.

-X-

[Acadian]

Welcome back to Eilidh and to fanfic! And a whole new mysterious province to explore!

[Darkness Eternal]

Good to see another story in Morrowind! Though I confess it is my least favorite province it will nevertheless be a fresh air to see it through the eyes of Eilidh. I'll be staying!

[PhonAntiPhon]

I'll be interspersing the narrative with some firsthand accounts taken from Eilidh's journals and letters back to her friends in Cyrodiil, one of which will follow shortly.
(A note on the journals and letters: obviously the language of her adopted home is not her mother tongue and even though she has an aptitude for language utilised and honed during her time as a military scout in her father's armies - see narrative in fanfic and Oblivion threads for history, plus the blog - there are many nuances that still elude her, especially in the written form, add to that the fact the language and writing of Cyrodiil and indeed Tamriel is very different from her own, and that she could barely speak or write any of it when she arrived...
So it is that after translation her missives and notes can come across as rather formal and stilted, as she's still not that comfortable writing in her adopted language).

~SEYDA NEEN. 19 of the clocke~

My dere Callius,

~It is hotte here in Seyda Neen, and a most uncomfortable humid to boot, worse e'en than the Blackwood.
As you have said, the settlement is small, hardly a towne at all, with only a single shoppe and a small inne.

~The Goode Captain Lucillius had his men unload my belongings - (such as they are for you know I travel light) - he insisted on personally accumpanying me to the Custom House - (I believe him to be enarmored of me somewhat) - wherein I acquainted myself with the local agent, one Socucius Ergalla.
He took my particulars - (although he struggled no small amount with my ascent) - I did as you said and passed myself as a native of the provinces. He thenne presented me with my pass.

~I have been here one full day now and my intent is too travel by Silt Strider - (You know, because I have told you, that in my land we have beasts of burden not unlike them, but you are right enough in your assertion that they are indeed impressive beasties) - however the caravaner will not be ready until the weeke is out.

~Therefore I have acquainted meself with the tavern - it is smalle buit the wine is fair, and in loo of a room there agent Ergalla has put the me up at the customs House.
The accursed heat, Callius! All my body is soaked with moisture and the flies and smell - it is guid that my military days have given me some preparedness for the conditions! Sinann Herself knows I am no a delicate bloom and will not shy from hardship.
It is guid though - thank ye - to be somewhere new and thus I shall take the delay as a oppertunity to explore the local about the towne.
To be sure tis a place different from the hills and forests of my homeland and though similar to, as I have told you, the Blackwood and the south of Cyrodiil, as I see it, it has a twist if you will.
I have my bow and sword and plenty of Septims! Do not worry dearest Callius.

I shalle write a further missive, soon.
Fair ye well, Callius, take care.

Yours Ever,
~Eilidh~

This post has been edited by PhonAntiPhon: Aug 20 2014, 10:55 AM

[haute ecole rider]

I loved reading Elidh's real voice in her letter to her good friend. It gives us further insight into this tough princess's character. I recall from her Oblivion fanfic that she never shied from difficulties, and I expect her to continue to confront danger in her own indomitable way here in Morrowind!

Looking forward to more as the muse strikes you!

[PhonAntiPhon]

20 Last Seed. 12pm
Balmora.

Tendrils of grey fog fingered their way into the Eight Plates as the door was pushed open and a figure walked in.
Dulnea Ralaal, the publican, looked up as the new arrival entered the large common room and stood for a moment looking about herself.

"Just another traveller..." She thought but then, taking a second look, she put down the silver tumbler she had been polishing and studied the young woman.
She was an elf certainly, and a young one at that, maybe thirty seasons. At first Dulnea thought she was Bosmeri for she was small and neat, not so much "petite" as "compact", she felt.

As if realising she was being studied, the new arrival turned to look directly at the publican.
" Definitely not a Bosmer." Amended Dulnea quickly.
Indeed, the other elf's gaze and bearing were very direct. Dulnea thought to herself that there was a confidence and sophistication in the way the other held herself. The visitor approached the counter, nodded and smiled cheerfully.

"Can I help?" Asked Dulnea. She was used to travellers passing through Balmora, of all types, but there was something intriguingly exotic and, well, foreign about this particular one.
"G'aftanuin, hae ye go' a ruim, b'annee chanss?"
Dulnea blinked. The traveller was was admittedly a pretty little thing, her long black hair expertly coiled at the back of her head and held with a butterfly clasp. Her face, the publican noted, had just the faintest tint of pale blue to it, around the eyes and the small, freckled nose.
Her voice was light, with a curious musical lilt to it, and obviously cultured. There was one small problem though.
Dulnea had absolutely no idea what her new visitor had just said.

"Pardon?"
"A sed, hae ye go'a ruim, pliz?" She spoke more slowly this time, again with a friendly smile.
"Um, I don't..."
A gulf of awkward silence opened between the two women. The smaller elf's cheerful expression slipped somewhat and took on a more exasperated air.
"Och, wye eva'tiyme? Yoo peepul, a'swere..." She rolled her eyes, then looking back at Dulnea raised one delicate, long-fingered hand and made a writing gesture with it.
Dulnea, slightly amused by the situation and by the other's reaction to it, fetched her some paper and a quill with some ink. The other elf nodded in acknowledgement and taking the quill in hand, bent to write a short note:

~My name is Eilidh MacAuley. Im a travaller inne these parts. Do you hav a bed for the night?
Please.~

Having finished, Eilidh put down the quill and handed the note to Dulnea, brushing a strand of hair from her face as she did so.
"Thair y'ar..."
Dulnea read it and smiled.
"Yes," she said, "we do have a room. It's ten gold a night."
Eilidh nodded her head.
"Ryte y'ar. Ah'll tek itte, pliz." She reached into a pouch at her waist and after some rummaging produced the required funds.

The exchange completed, Eilidh followed the directions provided and proceeded to her room.
Dulnea watched her go, a thoughtful look in her eyes, and a smile playing about her lips. Eilidh seemed on the surface a rather delicate and pretty little elf - (but from where?) - and yet she had a sort of almost regal bearing to her; evidently there was more to her than met the eye, a fact given credence by the sword at her side and the quiver and bow at her back. Dulnea had no doubts in her mind that she knew how to use them.
The publican shook her head and picked up the tumbler.
"What a curious creature..."
-X-

This post has been edited by PhonAntiPhon: Aug 22 2014, 02:27 PM

[Acadian]

I love Eilidh's accent challenges - and you portray the confusion and exasperation wonderfully. Mrs Acadian is an Aussie who was born and and raised in England - the combination accent is surprisingly challenging for 'Mericans to deal with. . . so I can identify.

You're also doing a good job of 'showing' us Eilidh via the eyes of others.

[haute ecole rider]

Strange accents always take some getting used to!

As a person who lipreads and has to deal with hearing people, I appreciate Elidh's challenges perhaps a bit differently than most. I had to smile when she brought out her quill and paper! How many times have I had to resort to those items (or Notes on the nearest Mac at my current job)!

I love the way you write her accent. It really makes her voice come alive in my head.

[PhonAntiPhon]

Thank you.
I always try to embed my characters in some form of reality; it's about the little details I think, and it's not just about goblins and dragons! Language is one of those things I think that gets ignored in fantasy often, racial and cultural divisions and differences often seem to get glossed over rather.
It's nice to know that I've in some small way succeeded with that. It does make her more real for sure but on a story level it, and other things about her character, open up so much more opportunities for tales...
(Plus, it's just a lot if fun to write her dialogue!)

This post has been edited by PhonAntiPhon: Aug 23 2014, 04:44 PM

[Grits]

Excellent notion to have Eilidh write down her request. Funnily enough I don’t struggle with spoken accents, but I’m afraid I can’t read dialog when it’s written phonetically. In those cases I try to guess what the character is saying by the reactions of others in the story. I liked how Dulnea seemed curious rather than frustrated with her mysterious guest.