Welcome Guest ( Log In | Register )

29 Pages V « < 23 24 25 26 27 > »   
Reply to this topicStart new topic
> Sleeper in the Cave, a Morrowind fanfic
SubRosa
post Apr 14 2020, 08:14 PM
Post #481


Ancient
Group Icon
Joined: 14-March 10
From: Between The Worlds



Adryn saying "I'll be careful." is the funniest thing she has said yet!

Uh oh, somebody lost their chimp book. Wow, I thought Adryn was going to have to hie off to some farthest corner of Vvardenfell to find it, and get in one adventure after another along the way.

Why do I think Throat-Ailment sounds like every male Dunmer in the game?

I suspect that by now, everyone in the Vvardenfell Mages Guild has heard of Adryn. This is before radio, and reality TV, so keeping up on her escapades is most people's only form of entertainment!

Throat-Ailment may be a little smarter than certain other members of the Guild *cough, cough* Folms *cough, cough*. Adryn might actually find an ally in him, if she plays her cards right. Oops, now she is going to have to get all academic with him.


--------------------
User is offlineProfile CardPM
Go to the top of the page
+Quote Post
treydog
post Apr 19 2020, 01:42 AM
Post #482


Master
Group Icon
Joined: 13-February 05
From: The Smoky Mountains



So many dead, over the course of this war. So many of my own people, of the Dwemer. So many of the Nords, even, our three races alike in death.

What an utter, unforgiveable waste.

Most excellent building of Nerevar's character and also giving Jurgen's history.

If I met a bandit on the road, I would do the sensible thing and run away, but arguments to this nature had had no effect so far and I wasn't expecting them to be successful now.

Oh dear, Nerevar's muscle memory tries to take over. Good thing it was in a training situation....

QUOTE
"I give up," I told the ceiling. "The bandit has defeated me. He can have my money, provided he carries me back to the guild."


Pure Adryn.

QUOTE
When it came to her friends' health she could be as fussy as Sotha Si-

My headache decided this was the opportune moment to prove Jamie's words about the limitations of magic true, seeing as despite the spell it was still capable of launching white-hot needles through my eyebrow straight into my brain.


Trigger words, anyone?

QUOTE
One didn't get to a high Temple rank by petting kittens.


We only have Adryn's word for that... Along with the demeanor of most every officer of the Temple anyone has ever met....

QUOTE
"Also, if you're worried about your table manners, consider this: I don't think it's actually possible for you to embarrass yourself in front of him any more than you did today."


So nice to have friends.

Adryn's interactions with Edwinna always leave me paralyzed from laughing. And Tiram... deep waters, there. Not to mention Methal's eagle-eyed interest.


--------------------
The dreams down here aren't broken, nah, they're walkin' with a limp...

The best-dressed newt in Mournhold.
User is offlineProfile CardPM
Go to the top of the page
+Quote Post
Kazaera
post Apr 19 2020, 11:33 AM
Post #483


Finder
Group Icon
Joined: 13-December 09
From: Germany



@haute ecole rider - glad you liked! Edwinna is indeed clever enough to realise that Adryn should not be left to rampage unchecked. Alas, Adryn hasn't quite made this connection herself. biggrin.gif

@SubRosa - I think you're right about Mages' Guild gossip! Adryn: The Latest is better than any soap opera, and many guild members try to tune in regularly. biggrin.gif

@treydog - I have to say, it's interesting seeing the difference in reaction to Tiram between those who have played the game and those who haven't. wink.gif And re: Methal - to some extent, Adryn is assuming based on other major organisations she knows. But people's reactions do seem to indicate there's something to it, don't they?

Last installment, Adryn completely failed to get out of dinner with the Sarethis as Edwinna decided it was much safer to keep her to guild-bound duties. Her attempts, however, did end up with her accidentally agreeing to meet up to talk about propylon indices with one (1) Tiram Gadar, Mages' guild member and assistant to the Archmage, who I'm sure anyone who's played the game will agree with me is not important in any way whatsoever.

But before we get to that, Adryn is now officially out of excuses to avoid dinner with Athyn Sarethi. Let's see how that goes.

Chapter 21.2
*****


Dinner had proved rather awkward. To start with, it had involved enough cutlery to outfit an army. Some of it had looked vaguely familiar from my time at the orphanage, in particular from interminable lessons with Sister Isanne. Of course, her hopes had been that we'd become maids, not nobles, so the actual use of any of the utensils still remained a mystery. I tried to copy what the people born to this sort of extravagance were doing, but judging by Sarethi's wife's looks, I didn't always succeed. All in all, I left the table convinced that there was no valid reason to need more than a single fork at one meal, and whoever had decided four were necessary deserved to be subjected to Sister Isanne's remedial etiquette lessons - a torture I'd thought I would never wish on anyone.

Then, of course, there had been the natives. One native, in particular. I really didn't know why I was surprised that Varvur strove forth to prove that he was more immature than his four-year-old sister, including the time she attempted to build a saltrice catapult out of the third-smallest spoon and two of the forks. (Her mother had been surprisingly calm about it, muttering something about supporting a budding interest in siege weaponry which led me to remember that everyone around me was completely insane.)

The child had been the most interesting conversational partner, really. Varvur, needless to say, was no competition, but if I'd had any hopes that his parents would take mercy on their intellectually challenged son and the poor innocent subjected to his idea of wit, they were quickly dashed. Sarethi's wife had spent most of the conversation looking rather bored, while Sarethi himself mostly seemed to be stifling laughter. All in all, I found myself regretting it deeply when little Meryni abandoned the table to go play heroes and monsters with a small stuffed dragon. I'd have joined her, but I had the impression Sarethi wouldn't have been entirely impressed, never to mention that I couldn't just let the nonsense Varvur was spouting pass unremarked.

All in all, the deliciousness of the food had been thoroughly overshadowed, and by the time the last of the cutlery armoury was taken away by a frowning servant, I felt I was more than due an escape. Sarethi, it seemed, did not agree as he invited me to join him in his study. Just as for the invitation for the dinner, it was clear that "no" was not an acceptable answer.

The study itself would probably have been interesting in any other context. The style of furnishing was completely different from the dining room or what I'd seen on my way in. The room was dominated by wood carved in flowing lines and rich fabrics embroidered with intricate geometric patterns. Low benches replaced the high-backed chairs that had been present so far, with tasselled cushions scattered around. All in all, the decorations reminded me of how Charon had decorated his room after we'd moved into the inn, even if Sarethi had clearly had far more money to throw at procuring Hammerfell-style furnishings. I'd have been curious as to the reason for Sarethi's unusual choice of decor, except that I was preoccupied with contemplating a break for the exit.

As if following my train of thought, Sarethi closed the door firmly. I drooped.

"I find a good glass of flin is the perfect close to a good meal," Sarethi said. "Would you like one? I also have sujamma and greef, or several wines if you'd prefer something Cyrodiilic."

It said something about how the evening had gone that for a moment, I was almost tempted.

"Do you have anything nonalcoholic? Wick water, comberry juice, tea, kava? I like to keep my head clear," I explained at Sarethi's considering look.

"I'm sure I can arrange something."

'Arranging something' meant opening the door to have murmured words with someone, shortly followed by another servant coming in with a tray bearing a teacup and pot. Sadly, neither occasion involved the door being left open long enough for me to make my escape. I particularly regretted this fact when I took a closer look.

The teapot was flawless porcelain, painted in delicate swirling patterns. Like the furnishings, it reminded me more of Hammerfell goods than what I'd seen of Morrowind. The steam that rose from my cup smelled not of hackle-lo, scathecraw or any other native plant, but of ginger and something floral. Both tea and crockery must have been imported... which made them expensive. Not the easiest goods to fence, true, but a professional with contacts-

I didn't think I'd ever felt so out of place as in this room.

I squashed the feeling down. I'd survived the village, the orphanage, the Warp, Markarth and Windhelm, I told myself. No one had wanted me, no one had made room for me - perhaps I'd thought Fjaldir or Do'kharza would once, but it had become obvious that other things were more important to them than a single orphaned girl. I hadn't let it bother me, had always made my own way. I refused to let a nobleman who was being actively welcoming discomfit me so.

I took a careful sip of the tea. "Thank you," I told Sarethi. "It's delicious."

"I'm glad to hear it. Gingerrose tea is hard to come by, here, but I developed a taste for it and have my sources." I felt pinned down by Sarethi's considering stare. I was sure he saw more of how I felt than I'd really have liked. "I do hope you weren't offended by Domesea, at dinner. She doesn't have much time for anyone who can't keep up with her with a sword, I'm afraid." His tone was fond.

"I didn't mind," I told him honestly.

True, Sarethi female edition - Lady Sarethi, I suppose she was - had looked at me as though I was some sort of performing animal and she wasn't quite sure how I'd found my way into their house. But that was simply the course of things, the way that nobility looked at ordinary people the world round. In many ways, her attitude was more comfortable to be around than that of the man sitting across from me.

"Well. If you say so." A pause. "Truly, it's a pity the combat lessons didn't work out. I'm aware you prefer to avoid violence, but they have uses far beyond the obvious. Especially in Redoran, it is far easier to gain respect and power if you're a capable fighter." Sarethi took a sip of his own drink. "After all, as they say: political power grows along the blade of a sword-"

"-thus spake Frandar Hunding," I finished automatically.

Sarethi's eyes widened. I had the feeling that, for the first time since we'd met, I'd managed to surprise him. "I didn't expect you to be familiar with the Book of Circles," he said after a moment.

It was a fair point. Why should a Dunmer girl, half from Skyrim and half from Daggerfall, be aware of such a peculiarly Redguard work?

"I had a friend from the Alik'r."

Once in the Reach, I'd been more than happy to shake the dust of Daggerfall off my feet. In contrast, the Warp separating him from his people through both time and distance had only made Charon cling more strongly to their ways. I'd never fully understood why this had to involve frequent quotations from a book that couldn't make up its mind whether it was about swordsmanship, philosophy or poetry. Dirij Tereur, especially, had made for a dreadful time every year. Protest though we might, Ingerte and I found ourselves dragged into a small chapel on the outskirts of Windhelm to listen to hours of the stuff while kneeling on cold stone. The lavish supper afterwards had not made up for it, and last year I remembered quietly praying that I'd be able to avoid the event in future.

This year, the holiday had found me in a cell in Vivec, so occupied by the fact that I was suspected of murder I hadn't even realised what the day was before it passed. Charon would never twist my arm into going to a Dirij Tereur celebration again. Be careful what you wish for, indeed.

"Had," Sarethi repeated thoughtfully, and I realised with a start that I'd used the past tense for Charon without even thinking about it. The realisation felt like ice-cold water trickling down my spine.

"I- he-" Blood on my hands. My mind was full of green light and I had no idea what I could possibly say.

Something of what I was feeling must have been writ upon my face all the same, because Sarethi sighed. "I am very sorry for your loss." A pause. "Should you want to perform a mourning rite for your friend, you are welcome to use the space Neminda set up near the armoury. I'm certain she would be happy to assist as well."

Everything seemed far away, as though I was seeing the world through warped glass. Dreamlike, the thought crossed my mind that if we did not stop talking about this now I would shatter into a thousand thousand pieces.

A change of subject was clearly necessary.

"You're very familiar with Redguard customs. How come?"

A little too direct to be polite, but at this point I honestly did not care a whit. Sarethi himself thankfully didn't seem offended either.

"I grew up in Hammerfell. In Rihad, near the border to Cyrodiil - I moved there when I was only a child. House politics." The last words were spoken as though they were an explanation in and of themselves. "If one is a guest in someone's home, one needs to follow their customs - it's the proper thing to do. So I learned." He shrugged. "It's how I met Neminda, and my old teacher Shardie - she's at the Legion fort now."

To my accounting, that made Sarethi the only other Dunmer I knew who'd spent much of their life outside Morrowind. My mouth opened without my brain's input to ask, "Did you find it hard to adjust when you returned?"

Sarethi shot me a knowing look. "Yes. Not as hard as you're finding it, I'm certain, since I did still have contact with my family and tutors from Morrowind... but all the same, it wasn't an easy transition. Our people can be very intolerant when someone's past is not quite as they think it should be, no?"

There was a wealth of sympathy in the man's voice, but even more than that, the thing that made me begin to relax was the way he said our people - as though it went without saying that I belonged. "They really can," I agreed. "Some people I've met, I'm not sure they realise 'outlander' isn't my name."

"Allow me to apologise on their behalf. And, of course, offer my services." Sarethi put his glass on the table with a small clink in order to lean forward, eyes fixed on my face. "Should you ever have any questions about living in Morrowind, or any difficulty due to your history, I would be more than happy to help. The assistance you have given my family and my House more than entitles you to that."

I let my own eyes fall to the teapot in order to avoid Sarethi's gaze. Really, he needed to stop it with these grand gestures of support - I was hardly going to take him up on them, and the whole thing was getting embarrassing.

Although, come to think of it...

"...there was one thing, that happened in the Grazelands while I was there," I said slowly. "I was going to ask Ervesa about it," who was my go-to person for such questions as a Morrowind native very familiar with the local customs who'd never called me 'outlander', "but she's not in Ald'ruhn and they don't know when she'll next be here. I didn't want to ask just anyone, because it's about an ancestral tomb and I'm... not sure I observed all the appropriate rituals when I encountered it. I'd hate to offend someone."

"I assure you," Sarethi said smoothly, "I'm at your disposal."

*****


Notes: Hope no one's too disappointed I elided the actual dinner in question - I felt it was better left to people's imaginations.

This post has been edited by Kazaera: May 16 2020, 03:14 PM


--------------------
User is offlineProfile CardPM
Go to the top of the page
+Quote Post
haute ecole rider
post Apr 19 2020, 04:10 PM
Post #484


Master
Group Icon
Joined: 16-March 10
From: The place where the Witchhorses play



I have to admit that I was curious about the dinner, but it sounds rather unremarkable based on Adryn's description of it . . . laugh.gif So okay, I'll take her judgment for it.

Interesting that Sarethi is familiar with Ra Gada ways! That's more than I can say for Julian of Anvil! I also had visions of my own ESO Redguard homes dancing in my head as I read through the description of his study. I have to say that I have a particular fondness for Redguard furnishings - they all look so comfortable and only need a good book to complete their atmosphere!


--------------------
User is offlineProfile CardPM
Go to the top of the page
+Quote Post
SubRosa
post Apr 24 2020, 02:47 AM
Post #485


Ancient
Group Icon
Joined: 14-March 10
From: Between The Worlds



I do not mind you avoiding a blow by blow account of every pea and carrot consumed at the dinner. It is enough to know that Varvur managed to get some good engineering experience... wink.gif

I love Adryn thinking about fencing the teapot! laugh.gif

I like all these little flashbacks to Adryn's past, and the people in it.

If Athyn had to spend his childhood in Hammerfell, I am guessing that was because he would have been murdered by assassins if he had remained in Morrowind. House Politics indeed.


--------------------
User is offlineProfile CardPM
Go to the top of the page
+Quote Post
treydog
post Apr 24 2020, 03:36 PM
Post #486


Master
Group Icon
Joined: 13-February 05
From: The Smoky Mountains



QUOTE
...his four-year-old sister, including the time she attempted to build a saltrice catapult out of the third-smallest spoon and two of the forks. (Her mother had been surprisingly calm about it, muttering something about supporting a budding interest in siege weaponry which led me to remember that everyone around me was completely insane.)


That is probably as good a summary of the dinner as we need.

QUOTE
I'd have been curious as to the reason for Sarethi's unusual choice of decor, except that I was preoccupied with contemplating a break for the exit.


And she can't help evaluating the tea service as a target for... hmm.... redistribution of wealth? Well, perhaps Athyn owes her something for all her trouble....

QUOTE
Everything seemed far away, as though I was seeing the world through warped glass. Dreamlike, the thought crossed my mind that if we did not stop talking about this now I would shatter into a thousand thousand pieces.


And then there are moments- more than a few- where, amidst the humor, you give us beautiful words like those.

A most satisfying meal- at least for us readers, if not for Adryn.


--------------------
The dreams down here aren't broken, nah, they're walkin' with a limp...

The best-dressed newt in Mournhold.
User is offlineProfile CardPM
Go to the top of the page
+Quote Post
Kazaera
post Apr 26 2020, 10:03 AM
Post #487


Finder
Group Icon
Joined: 13-December 09
From: Germany



@haute ecole rider - Athyn Sarethi having grown up in Rihad is actually from the in-game book The Hope of the Redoran. I couldn't resist running with it, especially as it does give them a point of commonality. But worry not, Julian - Jamie, from Kvatch, is 100% with you here and could not tell Crown from Forebear from a hole in the ground. Adryn also sympathises, as she didn't exactly grow up immersed in Dunmer culture.

@SubRosa - I'm glad you like the little flashbacks. I started off subtle about it, but Charon, Ingerte, and what went down in Solitude have a huge bearing on what Adryn is doing and who she is now, and this isn't the last mention we'll have of them. Re: House politics - you are 100% right, as the link up there shows!

@treydog - Adryn has her instincts! laugh.gif She's refraining from acting on them so far, but who knows, Athyn might yet push her too far one day. And I'm very glad to hear my regular trips from humour to seriousness with an underpinning of tragedy (because what happened to Adryn in Solitude was, in fact, terrible, and one day she's going to have to confront it properly) work for the reader. smile.gif

Last installment, Adryn underwent terrible tortures, also known as dinner with the Sarethis. Athyn Sarethi wasn't even kind enough to let her make her escape afterwards, instead dragging her into his study for a talk. All this in succession apparently did work to bring down Adryn's defenses slightly, though, because when he offered his assistance yet again she realised that he might be able to help her with something she'd been planning to ask Ervesa about. Apparently something strange happened to Adryn in the Grazelands earlier...

Chapter 21.3
*****


"Who in - Oblivion - lets Daedra - loose in - the wilds?"

Tenyeminwe wasn't letting the fact that she was gasping for air stop her from expressing her displeasure at the current situation. I fully and completely understood her feelings on the matter - indeed, I agreed in every detail - but still felt this was not the time to verbalise them.

"Less talking. More running."

I'd recovered more since being released from prison than I'd expected. It appeared my various misadventures had raised my endurance from "laughable" to "paltry", enough to keep up with Tenyeminwe (who clearly had the common mage's attitude that any time spent exercising was time that could be better spent in the library.) It was not, sadly, enough to outdistance the eerie golden-skinned figure some ways behind us. Nor was it enough to outlast said figure; I could already feel myself begin to tire, while a glance backwards showed that the Daedra was not slowing down.

I cast a desperate look around. Rolling hills covered in wickwheat, swaying in the slight breeze. Red Mountain in the far, unobtainable, irrelevant distance. No sign of Nartise or the other Redoran rescuee, curse their faithless hearts. No sign of anything else that might save us from imminent death.

My hand inched towards my pocket. That Altmer mage wouldn't be too impressed if we ended up at Indoraryon again, and it left us in no better position than we started, but it would be preferable to brutal dismemberment-

Wait. What was that shadow, on the side of the hill...

"There!"

I made for the doorway with Tenyeminwe hot on my heels. Dust rose in clouds as we flew into the antechamber. Tenyeminwe slammed the door shut behind us, purple light flaring - I suspected some sort of reinforcement spell.

For a long moment, the two of us waited with bated breath in the darkness. I swore I could hear footsteps outside, coming closer... closer...

Stopping.

I pressed my back against the stone wall, frozen like a rabbit hiding from a wolf. The door was old wood, and if Tenyeminwe were a great mage we wouldn't be in this situation in the first place. I wouldn't bet on her spells against a Golden Saint.

Then, finally, footsteps again. Receding.

I didn't know whether the Daedra legitimately didn't realise where we were, whether it decided it had successfully chased us from its territory, or what else might be going through its alien mind. In this case, I decided I didn't particularly care: I wasn't one to look a gift horse (or, in this case, a gift not-getting-disemboweled-by-Daedra) in the mouth. When the footsteps vanished into the distance, I slumped in relief, letting my eyes fall shut. I didn't open them even when light bloomed red through my eyelids. Tenyeminwe, I guessed, with a light spell. Let her explore the place if she wanted - I'd rather bask in the feeling of not being dead for a little longer.

"Adryn."

The hissed whisper could only belong to my companion, and it managed to convey quite the sense of urgency in only one word. Reluctantly, I cracked open my eyelids, ready to tell her off for interrupting my (I thought) well-earned break from reality.

The words froze in my throat at the sight that greeted me.

Tenyeminwe's light was weak, leaving anything more than a few feet distant in deep, flickering shadows. It was, however, handily enough to illuminate the figure in front of us. It was clad in a brown robe glimmering with enchantment, hood pulled low over its face... but not low enough to hide the fact that said 'face' was in fact a bare skull. The four (I quickly recounted - yes, four) skeletal arms were another hint as to the distinctly undead nature of our new companion.

I opened my mouth, but the only thing that came out was a squeak.

The thing floated closer. I could see two pinpricks of blue fire deep within its eye sockets.

Like the phantoms in Daggerfall, advancing on me in absolute silence in the falling darkness while I beat on the door-

I lost precious seconds to panic until I managed to push the memories away. Then, more as everything I'd managed to work out about the Dunmer attitude to undead and barrows flashed through my head at once. The image of the trader in Maar Gan, trembling and shaking after his rescue, was particularly prominent. As was the fact that not just he but all my companions had considered him lucky the tomb guardians hadn't just torn him apart straight off.

Fjaldir was very unlikely to come to my rescue this time, and given the presence of a Golden Saint outside we couldn't escape out this particular door. The only remaining option was talking my way out, although I had to admit I wasn't particularly optimistic as to its chances of success.

I managed to find my voice. "A- a thousand pardons for our trespass, most... erm..." terrifying undead monster, "...honoured ancestor. I promise we mean no harm or disrespect and will be out of your hai- out of your, er, handsomely polished skull as soon as we can-"

The thing was directly in front of me now. It reached out one of its too many arms...

Fingers of bare bone brushed my cheek.

I'd have leapt back, except my back was already pressed against the wall and I sadly had not yet worked out a way of turning intangible. I did spare a moment to desperately wish I could flee back to Indoraryon - but even if I could break free, the skeleton was between me and Tenyeminwe. There was no way I'd be able to live with myself if I abandoned her to a crypt filled with undead inexplicably aspiring to spiderdom.

For a long moment, the thing didn't move, simply touching - cupping - my cheek, the eerie blue flames that passed for its gaze pinning me in place. The only sounds were mine and Tenyeminwe's panting breaths as I tried to stand straight under its scrutiny. This, of course, was easier said than done when my skin was trying to crawl straight off my body.

Then, it dropped its hand (I had to resist the urge to scrub at the place it had touched, reminding myself firmly that being a half-arachnid undead monstrosity was not catching) and drifted back. Its head bowed, its lower arms dropped to its side while its upper ones spread out to indicate the passage deeper into the tomb. It was unmistakeably a gesture of welcome.

"What in Julianos' name-"

Fast as a striking snake, the skeleton spun to face Tenyeminwe, the blue of its eyes burning brighter. The resemblance to a snake only grew with the rattling hiss it let out as it raised its lower arms again. Most ominously, red roiling light began to grow in one of its hands.

It objected to Tenyeminwe, but did not object to me.

The thought had barely crossed my mind before my feet were moving. I sprang in front of Tenyeminwe, my own arms spread to mirror the skeleton's, although empty of magicka. (I didn't think that particular contest would end well for me.)

"She's with me!"

For a long, terrifying moment I thought I'd miscalculated and the two of us were going to get roasted. Then, like a Dwemer automaton switching out of alert mode, it resumed its previous peaceful posture.

"All right," I whispered to Tenyeminwe. Whispering was good. Whispering made it less obvious how much my voice was shaking. "Just- just stay behind me."

"How did you do that?" Tenyeminwe whispered back. She was, apparently, deciding to prove her mage credentials by making clear the how and why of what was happening was more important to her than, oh, the possibility of getting torn to shreds by an angry undead monster. Sometimes I wondered how any of them - all right, us - managed to survive to adulthood. "Are you a necromancer?"

"No!" I brought my indignant shout down to whisper volume just in time. "Obviously not. Did you see me cast a spell? More importantly, have you lost your mind?"

In High Rock, necromancers were frowned upon. In Skyrim, they were ostracised. In Morrowind, I'd learned by now, necromancy carried the death sentence. Call me a killjoy, but given that context I was not amused by her accusation.

"Well, then explain why it's obeying you!"

Tenyeminwe's voice had risen, but it didn't seem to disturb the skeleton any. It stayed floating where it was, as though waiting for me.

"Honestly?" I told Tenyeminwe. "Your guess is as good as mine."

*****


"So we stayed there for a while, until we figured the Golden Saint had gone," I told Sarethi. "Stumbled across a Velothi camp no longer after we left, and ran into Nartise and what's-her-name not long after that, and... well, let's just say we all had enough other things to worry about that I'm not sure Tenyeminwe even remembers the whole thing. I didn't want to bring it up either. But... that's not normal, is it? For a- a guardian to ignore someone like that?"

I'd figured Sarethi had enough sense not to react like Tenyeminwe, but I'd been a little worried about his reaction all the same. I had the impression that people here frowned heavily on messing around with the Morrowind equivalent of barrows, no matter the circumstances. Thankfully, though, his promised tolerance seemed to be holding; rather than reacting angrily, he was stroking his chin with his eyes narrowed in thought.

"It isn't," he confirmed. "Tomb guardians will typically attack anyone who trespasses on their domain. There are cases where they can be appeased, temporarily... but this usually requires the appropriate rites of obeisance, and the guardian will still make quite clear that they are displeased and any stay granted is purely temporary." I remembered the expression of the rescued trader and nodded to myself.

"However," Sarethi continued, "there is a situation that would match your description." His voice, which had taken on something of a lecturing note, became more animated.

"Oh?"

"It's simple. The guardian wouldn't act against you if it didn't see you as a trespasser."

For a moment, I was lost in confusion. What did it mean, for the guardian not to see me as a trespasser? After all, I was certainly a stranger to the place, had never even been to that corner of Vvardenfell before.

Then, the realisation hit me. The process felt a little like being struck by a large, heavy rock dropped from a great height.

"You can't mean..." My voice trailed off. Somehow, I couldn't bring myself to put this particular thought into words.

Sarethi had no such compunctions. "If you're a member of the family in question, no spirit within the ancestral tomb will attack you - and they'll spare your companions as well, if asked. I can't think of any other explanation."

If you're a member of the family.

Somehow, I realised, although I'd thought I was learning Morrowind ways, I'd only let them touch me on the surface. I'd learned something of the importance people here gave to clan and heritage. I'd even told myself I understood the concept...

...but I hadn't been able to apply it to me.

As a child, I'd dreamed of having a family of my own. There had been so many hours I whiled away in daydreams of my unknown parents coming back for me, in speculation about how they might have come to lose me through no fault of their own. The memories were there, of fantasies and theories and a strange, formless yearning for family. Of perching in the window seat of the orphanage with a copy of the kingdom census - Fjaldir and the rest had needed it for something, I remembered, and no one had noticed when I'd made off with it after - tracing the exotic-sounding names of the few Dunmer who resided in Daggerfall and wondering...

Yes, the memories were there, but they felt distant and unreal, like they belonged to a different life. As time went on I'd moved on, found greater dreams trailed by greater wounds. By now I'd made my own family and lost it twice over, and the fact that I had no blood kin was a simple truth stripped bare of emotion, one no longer worth a second thought.

"I..."

I didn't know what to say, what to feel. This turn of events had left me completely blindsided, and Athyn Sarethi was looking at me with an expression of deep consideration.

All right, I knew one thing I wanted: I wanted to leave. Go back to the Guild, curl up in the dormitory bed I'd claimed with the curtains drawn shut and allow myself to have whatever emotional reaction I was going to have without a nobleman watching my every twitch.

Sarethi sighed. I suspected he'd gathered something of my current feelings, proving my point about the level of observation.

"As you know, my door is always open to you. If you ever need my assistance, in this matter or any other, you need only ask. For now, I believe I've kept you long enough."

Yes. He really had.

*****


Notes: smile.gif

This post has been edited by Kazaera: Apr 26 2020, 10:06 AM


--------------------
User is offlineProfile CardPM
Go to the top of the page
+Quote Post
haute ecole rider
post Apr 26 2020, 05:39 PM
Post #488


Master
Group Icon
Joined: 16-March 10
From: The place where the Witchhorses play



I thought the same thing almost right away! Blame the Vvardenfell chapter of ESO for educating me on tomb guardians - even though my toon may not be Dunmer, or be of Vfell origin, they still remained untouched by these creatures. It's a pretty cool piece of lore, and I really enjoyed you adding this to Athyn's story. Somehow I'm not surprised . . .

I am still looking forward to the next installment, waiting to see what happens next!


--------------------
User is offlineProfile CardPM
Go to the top of the page
+Quote Post
ghastley
post Apr 27 2020, 06:09 PM
Post #489


Councilor
Group Icon
Joined: 13-December 10



So now Adryn has generations of family feuds just poised to drop on her. And probably before she even knows where they're coming from.

And if not, I'm sure she can start some of her own. tongue.gif


--------------------
Mods for The Elder Scrolls single-player games, and I play ESO.
User is offlineProfile CardPM
Go to the top of the page
+Quote Post
SubRosa
post Apr 27 2020, 07:40 PM
Post #490


Ancient
Group Icon
Joined: 14-March 10
From: Between The Worlds



"Less talking. More running."
Sounds like a Dr Who episode! laugh.gif

We are back to Adryn's adventures in the Grazelands I take it. Uh oh, I suspect that Adryn's refuge might not be quite so safe as she hopes. My first guess is tomb.

A friendly Bonelord? I wonder if this is Adryn's ancestral tomb?

Morrowind is funny about necromancy. They have no problems animating the dead to guard their tombs. But if someone else animates them, well, that's an abomination.

It seems Athyn has come to the same conclusion. It looks like Adryn has found her family. If she knows whose ancestral tomb that was.


--------------------
User is offlineProfile CardPM
Go to the top of the page
+Quote Post
treydog
post Apr 28 2020, 01:08 AM
Post #491


Master
Group Icon
Joined: 13-February 05
From: The Smoky Mountains



What an excellent addition to Adryn's story! And the humor that is pure Adryn again shines through. She seems to be at her best when she is terrified....

QUOTE
"All right," I whispered to Tenyeminwe. Whispering was good. Whispering made it less obvious how much my voice was shaking.


Also, I know Trey (and possibly Athlain) identify with the problem of.... "Inappropriately-Timed Excursion into Morphology, Natural History, and Other Really Interesting Things to Discuss- SOMEWHERE ELSE". Perhaps it is a result of Trey's Breton inherent magic affinity? So- it is one of those "chicken-egg" conundra--- are all mages inclined to delve into unhelpful and downright suicidal lines of inquiry because they are mages- OR is that inclination the thing that causes them to BECOME mages?

And, even though Adryn sees it quite differently, Athyn Sarethi again shines in your depiction of him.

But most of all- like others- my inquiring mind is inquiring as to which family's ancestral tomb that happened to be....

So much Adryn goodness packed into one installment. Lovely!


--------------------
The dreams down here aren't broken, nah, they're walkin' with a limp...

The best-dressed newt in Mournhold.
User is offlineProfile CardPM
Go to the top of the page
+Quote Post
Kazaera
post May 3 2020, 10:46 AM
Post #492


Finder
Group Icon
Joined: 13-December 09
From: Germany



@haute ecole rider - interestingly, I hadn't actually realised Bethesda made this official lore! In Morrowind, all the tomb guardians attack you straight out, but I deduced how they should work from in-game conversation etc. Good to know I'm on track! (And your comment reminds me how badly I need to get back to playing ESO, because I never managed to get that far into Vvardenfell but there is a lot in there that might be very relevant for Adryn.)

@ghastley - ha! I assure you, Adryn does not need anyone to give her family feuds, she is perfectly capable of creating enough of her own. (Would her clan actually want her, is possibly the question...)

@SubRosa - it is probably a sign that I have spent *way* too much time thinking about Morrowind culture that the Dunmer answer to this immediately popped into my head: necromancy to create tomb guardians etc. generally involves the willing collaboration of the ancestral spirit who wants to keep safeguarding their descendants, while unsanctioned necromancy is an abomination involving the forcible enslavement of a spirit up to forcibly turning them against their clan. Completely different things! Mind, I don't think all tomb guardians were willing, but that's a "punishment for betrayal of the family" thing that is also, in Dunmer minds, justifiable.

This story is doing weird things to my brain.

@treydog - this is an excellent question! I think we should discuss it in detail while in dangerous territory, potentially while running away from a Golden Saint. (Adryn: but why.)

And I'm not going to lie: Athyn Sarethi is indeed one of my favourite characters. He particularly shines when you compare him to the Hlaalu patron panic.gif

Last installment, Adryn related an encounter with an ancestral tomb to Athyn Sarethi. Her ancestral tomb, it turns out. Adryn was not sure how to feel about this. She is still not sure how to feel about this, which is why she's calling in reinforcements.

(Longer installment this time as the meat of the scene is at the end.)

Chapter 21.4
*****


Turdas evening found me in the Ald Skar Inn, nursing a wick water and taking advantage of their house special of glazed scrib legs with a scuttle and firefern dip. Despite the fact that it wasn't yet the weekend the place was surprisingly crowded, probably because the cold had set in to the point where outside seating was only useable by the truly masochistic. We'd lucked out and managed to snag a table in the corner, but it was still a tight fit.

"I prefer the Rat in the Pot," Llarara grumbled. "There aren't as many people, and sometimes they have dancing."

I winced. I was the one who'd vetoed the Rat in the Pot, and on the surface, it was hard to see why. After all, the style and ambience of the place - never to mention the price class - were far closer to what not just I but likely the others as well were used to. There was just the minor, unimportant detail that the Rat in the Pot was the local Thieves' Guild headquarters and I should stay far, far away from the place as a result, but that was really the sort of thing my companions didn't need to know.

Which left me with an explanation that would have been difficult to manage even in a language I spoke fluently.

Luckily, Ervesa took care of the matter for me. She'd swept into Ald'ruhn late morning with dented armour, a bulging pack, and a broad smile on her face, and seemed determined to protect her good mood from grumpy friends. "Come on, Llarara! The-"

At that point, Ervesa clearly forgot that, study aside, I was still a beginner at Dunmeris. My best guess was that she was saying something about the food, but given that I could understand maybe one word in four I couldn't rule out the possibility that she was praising the music, talking about her travels, or proposing marriage.

I sighed and intoned the words that had been among the first things I learned in class. "Slower, please?"

"Oh. Sorry, Adryn. The food here is better, and I know Llarara likes the duunei rivillarys. Glazed scrib legs," she repeated in Tamrielic on seeing my blank face.

I nodded, filing the words away. When I'd started learning Dunmeris, I'd tried to focus on learning only the vocabulary I expected to be useful. However, my memory seemed to take a gleeful pleasure in latching onto the most obscure terms, and the episode in Sadrith Mora had taught me that it could be hard to know in advance which words one would need. After all, where would that have ended if I hadn't known the word for "spy"? So my taste in vocabulary had grown steadily less discerning, and by now no new Dunmeris word was safe from my gluttonous appetite. Who knew, maybe at some point soon I'd find myself negotiating a truce between warring tribes through the power of shared culinary culture, and glazed scrib legs would form the cornerstone of my argument. It wouldn't be the strangest thing that had happened to me on the island.

My moment of whimsy was interrupted by a very familiar voice joining the conversation. "Ajira herself does not like dancing-"

I was distracted enough by the third person (which sounded even stranger in Dunmeris than in Tamrielic), that I lost the rest of the sentence. Something involving ash yams?

Then events caught up to me.

"Ajira! You..." I suspected that literally saying you made it would result in puzzled looks and Ajira asking what exactly she'd made. Expressions, I'd discovered, didn't translate well.

"You're here!" I said instead, taking refuge in stating the obvious.

I didn't get to see Ajira nearly as much as I would have liked, these days. She and Masalinie both had advised me to avoid the Balmora guild while Ranis Athrys was around ("our esteemed guildmistress may not have known what to do with you, but she still didn't take you escaping from under her thumb particularly well," Masalinie had said with a roll of her eyes), while Ajira's duties both professional and parental mostly kept here there. She didn't even always make it to the Ta'agra classes, which was quite sad when one considered why they'd started.

As a result, when Ervesa got back into town and suggested going out as a group, I'd responded more eagerly than was my wont (although her dumbfounded expression when I agreed without arguing had still been unnecessary, in my opinion - I wasn't that much of a misanthrope, thank you very much). I didn't even mind that she insisted on dragging my Dunmeris teacher into things. I'd known who I wanted to invite.

"Ajira thanks her friend for the invitation," my friend was saying now as she pulled up a chair, "and that it was for Turdas."

I gave Ervesa a triumphant grin. She'd originally suggested tomorrow, but I'd managed to argue her into submission. I'd known that Ma'Zajirr's return from the Imperial school would make it very unlikely Ajira would be able to join us on a Fredas.

"I'm happy to see you," I told my friend with an embarrassing amount of sincerity; I'd have to remind myself not to make a habit of it. "Do you know if Jamie comes?" Wait- that wasn't right, was it? I was asking about a one-time event, not habitual behaviour, which called for progressive aspect. "Is coming?" I quickly corrected myself. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Llarara's approving nod.

But Ajira was shaking her head. "She cannot, she told Ajira earlier today. She has dreynduas-"

"-business," Ervesa translated,

"-in Balmora. She wishes to meet another time."

"May Almsivi make it so," Ervesa responded, a rote phrase I'd learned early on. "For now-"

In stark contrast to Ajira, Ervesa was a scourge to poor innocent language learners like myself. She couldn't remember to speak slowly for more than a sentence at a time, and the concept of "keep it simple" was lost on her. So it was now: the rapidly accelerating flow of words that escaped her left one staring in awe, and the few bits and pieces I made out led me to suspect she was definitely using grammar we hadn't covered yet.

Was that some form of conditional? Had Sheogorath taken her mind?

Bereft of verbal communication, I was forced to resort to contextual clues. In this case, the deck of cards she was flourishing. Given the way we'd met and the excited tone of the incomprehensible flow, I deduced that she was proposing a game.

It seemed I wasn't the only one who'd played cards with Ervesa before, because Llarara's eyes narrowed. "No cheating," she said sternly, then repeated it in Tamrielic for good measure. "I grew up with you, I know your tricks."

Ervesa pouted, making for a rather unbelievable sight. "But what if I-"

"No. Cheating."

"Fine." Her tone was grumpy, but her hands were already busy shuffling the deck.

An hour or so later found us deep into the game. As requested, both Ervesa and I had refrained from cheating, although I had to admit it had been hard - more than once I'd found myself reflexively tucking a card up my sleeve, or faking a shuffle, and only just caught myself in time. I'd worry about what this said about the groups I used to play in, except that Ervesa was clearly having just as many problems with the concept. Honestly, one or both of us would probably have succumbed if not for Ajira's periodic warning glances.

"Methal said you wanted to talk to me about something?" Ervesa asked now... in Tamrielic, mercifully. I suspected it to be intended as a distraction, to make her and Ajira's imminent crushing defeat at the hands of me and Llarara a little less so.

Sadly for us, it worked, seeing as it made me remember the conversation I'd had with Athyn Sarethi in Ervesa's stead. I'd been strenuously trying not to think about it of late because I simply couldn't figure out what I thought about the subject or what I wanted to do about it, and the whole process just left me feeling ill and achingly empty. Still, the memory lurked just beneath the surface of my subconscious, where it could ambush me with little warning.

"Adryn?"

Sometimes, when I was younger, I'd get into a rut with my thoughts, spinning round and round in circles without making any progress. It had always helped tremendously to talk through them with someone. Charon-

I hadn't had anyone I trusted that way for a while.

I looked round the table. Ajira was probably the closest friend I had. I liked to think Ervesa qualified as one, too. Llarara I didn't know as well, but she was nice enough - and Ervesa clearly trusted her. That had to be worth something.

"If you don't want to tell me, can you at least keep playing?"

"Sorry," I said, glanced at the table, and dropped a card that let me take Ajira's ace of rings for an extra point in the end scoring. I heard her let out a low groan. "I was just thinking." I took a deep breath. "It was about something that happened when I was in the Grazelands..."

At the end of my tale, I had independent confirmation: all my companions agreed with Sarethi's estimation.

Surprisingly enough, it was Ajira who was most emphatic on what to do next. "There is no question about it, no question at all! Friend Adryn must find the tomb again, discover what clan it belongs to. Perhaps she has kin who will be delighted to welcome a lost one home! And of course she must return to bring offerings to her ancestors, this is the most important thing of all."

I wasn't the only one taken aback by this sudden outpouring of spiritual fervour. Ervesa was also blinking at Ajira in surprise. "That's... I must say, I weren't expecting you to be so devout in this regard, Ajira. Most... Khajiit..."

Ervesa's voice trailed off as she realised she was on dangerous ground, but too late. Ajira's ears lay flat against her head, her pupils narrowed into slits. "Oh? And why should Ajira not give honour to her ancestors? Who else should care for a Khajiit, after all, in this land far from Elsweyr's gods? Ajira makes offerings to her grandmother Tsraina and grandfather Jo'mizhrin, who were lucky enough to escape from slavery, clever enough to stay free after. She makes offerings to her great- grandmother Nisaari, who was wise enough to teach her son what he needed to seize opportunity when it came. She respects her great-great-grandmother Ajadhi for her strength to survive being taken captive. Perhaps these ancestors will smile on her, will lend her their luck and cleverness, their wisdom and strength. That they are the only ones she knows to call upon, that is not Ajira's fault."

Silence. The three of us stared at Ajira, card game completely forgotten. I'd never seen my friend this angry, her teeth bared, her fur bristling.

"Excuse me? Is everything all right here?"

We looked up to find a Redoran guard standing beside the table. He'd doffed his helmet, which made it easy to see that the guard was an older man with short spiky dark hair, tattoos spreading over his cheeks and wine-red eyes that were fixed on Ajira. At his side, his gauntleted hand was clenched around his mace.

Ajira shrank. There was no other word for it; her fur went flat, her shoulders hunched, her tail drew close to her body until I was ready to swear that my friend was six inches shorter than she'd been a mere few seconds ago.

"Many apologies, honoured guard. Ajira was so involved in her friends' debate that she forgot where she was. She did not mean to disturb anyone." She cast a desperate glance around the table.

This situation was familiar, in an oddly warped way.

"Yes, well... see that you keep yourself under control from now on, citizen. An honour, Armiger." The guard gave Ajira a short nod, Ervesa a much deeper one, then turned and left.

The food I'd eaten churned uneasily in my stomach. There were plenty of far more rowdy groups in the inn. At the table two to the left, a man had actually drawn a knife, resulting in several very tense seconds before his companions managed to talk him down. Ajira hadn't even raised her voice that much, speaking intensely rather than loudly. Why single her out?

I asked myself the question, but the truth was that I already knew the answer. It was the same reason that I'd always had to be on my absolute best behaviour if we went out in Windhelm. Although some of the natives had looked on Ingerte with suspicion for her Falkreath accent, it was still nothing compared to their treatment of a Dark Elf in their midst.

I wasn't sure whether I was disappointed to discover Morrowind was just as bad, or intensely uncomfortable to suddenly find myself in Ingerte's shoes.

It wasn't clear to me if Llarara or Ervesa had picked up on the unfairness of what had happened, or if they were just still shocked by Ajira's outburst. At any rate, the silence lengthened, grew steadily more awkward. I was about to open my mouth to say something – anything – to break it when Ervesa cleared her throat.

"Um. Sorry, Ajira. I didn't mean to assume." This was the most subdued I'd ever heard her.

Ajira gave a jerky nod. She was still hunched in on herself, a sight that made my heart twist. "It is all right, perfectly all right, Ajira should not have lost her temper. Now, the score was three more points for Llarara and Adryn?"

The game ground back into motion from there on. The conversation followed suit, but haltingly, as though we were all being careful to tiptoe around an obstacle.

"For what it's worth, I agree with Ajira," Ervesa said as she shuffled the deck in a smooth, practiced motion. "It's- it can't be coincidence, it's a gift of the gods, to have the chance to name your ancestors after all."

I could feel my shoulders go up defensively. I hadn't expected quite this much pressure. "How unfortunate for me that the gift in question is in the Daedra-infested wilderness in the middle of Telvanni lands, and I've been warned specifically to stay away because it's too dangerous."

"Ajira is forced to admit friend Adryn makes a good point."

I was about to capitalise on Ajira's reluctant agreement when another thought struck me. "Wait. If my... family..." the word felt indescribably strange leaving my mouth, "have a tomb in the Telvanni regions, does that mean they're Telvanni? Because that would be... awkward."

Speaking of understatements.

"Not necessarily, actually! Many of the tombs are from the Chimer era, but most clans have moved around since then. It's not that unusual for a mainland Indoril family's tomb to be in the Molag Amur, or for a Hlaalu clan that's lived in Balmora for generations to travel to the Deshaan for their rites." Ervesa paused. "It might be worth asking Methal about it, actually. I know he's familiar with that area – he might have an idea of what tomb it might be."

I frowned. In truth, I'd still been deciding whether I wanted to investigate further, but I'd assumed that if I did choose in favour, the investigation itself would be straightforward. "You mean there aren't, I don't know, lists or maps or the like?"

Both the native-born Dunmer in the room looked uncomfortable. "Perhaps the Telvanni Council Hall would have some, but..."

"...what Ervesa is trying to say is that many families consider the location of their tomb to be a closely-guarded secret," Llarara jumped in. "There's really no need, these days – it's a hold-over from the time of the Chimer, when clans in conflict might target each others' ancestors." Her voice dropped as she spoke, as though she were recounting some unspeakable horror. "We were far less wise then. The Tribunal put a stop to such things, but the memories persist. And so your clan's tomb might not appear in any public records."

It was probably a sign of how much I'd acclimatised to Morrowind that the idea of attacking someone through their family's ancestral tomb made an odd sort of sense to me. I wondered if I should worry about that.

But, more importantly...

"So you're saying my options are to hope Methal happens to know about a single tomb in the middle of Telvanni lands, or to return there myself and start wandering around at random?"

"Well..." Ervesa hesitated. I had the distinct impression she didn't think I'd like door number three. "You could join the Temple."

Ervesa knew me very well.

"Excuse me? Did I hear that correctly?"

"It makes sense," Llarara jumped in – again. I was beginning to think that one of the professional vices of a teacher was always thinking you could explain something better than others. Since I was now technically part of that group myself, I'd need to keep a very close eye on myself to avoid succumbing. I was resigned to my faults of tactlessness and impetuosity, but obnoxiousness was where I drew the line.

"Foundlings and the lost are known phenomena, if uncommon ones." Indeed, her voice had taken on that lecturing tone again. The danger was real. "We've developed kinfinding spells and rituals to aid them- aid you. However, they're fairly involved and take a lot of resources from the Temple. After the incident with Tevys of the Hundred Clans, it was decided that we'd only offer them to the initiated."

Tevys of the Hundred Clans? That sounded like a story I wanted to hear... but later.

"Thank you for the information. Unfortunately, as I'm still not religious, I'll have to decline."

"If that's your decision, I'll respect it," Ervesa said. "But you should know that becoming a lay member doesn't actually require worship."

I paused. Turned that thought over in my mind.

"Did I understand that correctly? A religious organisation doesn't require religious belief of its members, isn't that a contradiction in terms?" I was used to everyone around me being mad, but all the same this was going a little far in my opinion.

"It's only the first level. To advance to novice you'd need to profess your belief to a Temple priest. But lay membership is open to anyone sincerely interested in learning more about the faith and Almsivi." Ervesa paused. "I think it was introduced during the time of the Ebonheart Pact. There were many outlanders in Morrowind then."

"It was," Llarara interjected. "The decision was made at a Council meeting not long after the alliance – Second Era 575."

"Thank you, Kena Omayn," Ervesa said wryly – using the honorific for someone esteemed for their wisdom and knowledge, no less. I was clearly not the only one who'd noticed the way Llarara had succumbed to her teacherly vices. "Anyway, you can become a lay member without committing to anything. All you have to do is complete the Pilgrimages of the Seven Graces. You can even decide afterwards that you're not interested in becoming one of the Temple faithful and give it up again – my father did. And, of course, you'd gain access to basic Temple services, the kinfinder being one of them."

That all sounded surprisingly reasonable. However, I couldn't forget that I was dealing with two faithful here myself. Best to see if I could get a more neutral opinion.

"Ajira, is that in line with what you know?"

My friend had been quiet and subdued ever since the guard had come over, watching the conversation in silence. She startled a little when I adressed her.

"Ah... yes. Everyone knows the Temple takes the curious as well as the faithful. Ajira even has friends who joined, although," her whiskers twitched, "none who completed all the pilgrimages."

So the information was accurate.

I drummed my fingers on the tabletop, mulling it over. It was true that I wasn't in any way interested in converting...

...but hadn't I been curious about the local religion for a while? For one, it was clear understanding it would be a huge help in understanding the culture here, and although I'd pieced together a lot I knew I was still missing things. For another, something about it still struck me as familiar, the names Vivec and Almalexia and Sotha Sil ringing a faint bell in my memory, like an itch I couldn't quite scratch. This would be an excellent way to learn more without committing to anything.

And if- if- I decided I wanted to know more about a certain ancestral tomb in the Grazelands once I was done, I'd be in the right position to investigate. If not... well, that would be no one's business but my own.

"...Can you tell me more?"

Ervesa smiled.

*****


Notes: I could not resist porting my favourite card game into Adrynverse! Our four are playing a Morrowind version of Doppelkopf.

EDIT: and after saying I'd do a long installment I accidentally posted only half of it /o\ brb fixing, and now I have to fix all the format problems that happen whenever you edit a post on here...

This post has been edited by Kazaera: May 16 2020, 03:15 PM


--------------------
User is offlineProfile CardPM
Go to the top of the page
+Quote Post
haute ecole rider
post May 3 2020, 05:58 PM
Post #493


Master
Group Icon
Joined: 16-March 10
From: The place where the Witchhorses play



And here I thought the gang was playing bridge!

Poor Ajira! Being singled out for being different is nothing new to me, unfortunately. And Alise certainly empathizes with her, having spent more than a few decades in Skyrim as a lone Dunmer in Falkreath Hold (in 4E, not 2E).

Interesting discussion about how to go about identifying which clan that tomb belongs to -- of course I thought that was the next step for Adryn during her conversation with Sarethi. Why oh why do so many Dunmer have names that begin with ATH--?? I'm having a very difficult time keeping everything straight. I don't blame you, Kaz, because I know of Beth's tendency to make things too simple. nono.gif tongue.gif

So joining the Temple would be a good way for an atheist like Adryn to learn more about her kin? I'd be wary, but I have no problem jumping in with both eyes open! laugh.gif


--------------------
User is offlineProfile CardPM
Go to the top of the page
+Quote Post
treydog
post May 3 2020, 09:00 PM
Post #494


Master
Group Icon
Joined: 13-February 05
From: The Smoky Mountains



The card game- along with Adryn's ongoing problems with her supposed "native" language- was wonderfully engaging. More significant, as Adryn kinda, sorta recognized without fully acknowledging, is that she has gathered a loyal and formidable group of friends. Of course, considering what we know of her previous experiences with getting close to people, her resistance is quite understandable. The ways Ajira reacts to unthinking bias are also perfectly rendered. Anyone who has experienced the "We aren't going to have any trouble, are we?" from an authority figure- while doing nothing more troublesome than... occupying space- can feel her pain. Adryn in the Tribunal Temple... what could possibly go wrong?


--------------------
The dreams down here aren't broken, nah, they're walkin' with a limp...

The best-dressed newt in Mournhold.
User is offlineProfile CardPM
Go to the top of the page
+Quote Post
macole
post May 3 2020, 10:35 PM
Post #495


Mouth
Group Icon
Joined: 10-January 20



QUOTE(Kazaera @ May 3 2020, 04:46 AM) *

necromancy to create tomb guardians etc. generally involves the willing collaboration of the ancestral spirit who wants to keep safeguarding their descendants, while unsanctioned necromancy is an abomination involving the forcible enslavement of a spirit up to forcibly turning them against their clan. Completely different things! Mind, I don't think all tomb guardians were willing, but that's a "punishment for betrayal of the family" thing that is also, in Dunmer minds, justifiable...

This is a very interesting thought. Would it be reasonable to assume that the Dunmer would have two different words to distinguish between the accepted practice and the illegal practice? Or even three words in the event of the punishment scenario?


--------------------
Vampire Hunter,
Endure and through enduring grow strong.
User is offlineProfile CardPM
Go to the top of the page
+Quote Post
SubRosa
post May 4 2020, 03:38 AM
Post #496


Ancient
Group Icon
Joined: 14-March 10
From: Between The Worlds



It sounds like a nice girl's night out, without any Thieves Guild complications.

I was thinking the card game was whist. That is what I get for doing a Horatio Hornblower marathon recently.

I appreciated Ajira's Angry Black Man moment, and the instant response it garnered from the law. This is the kind of thing that I fear many people with privilege will never really understand.

Hmm, I am liking the idea of wandering around the Grazelands myself...

Looks like Adryn is going to get some of that old time religion.


--------------------
User is offlineProfile CardPM
Go to the top of the page
+Quote Post
Kazaera
post May 10 2020, 02:40 PM
Post #497


Finder
Group Icon
Joined: 13-December 09
From: Germany



@all - ha, fun to see everyone's card game assumptions! Doppelkopf does have distinct similarities to bridge and (from reading the Wiki) whist, but there are distinct differences. The main conceit is that you usually don't know who you're playing with at the start of each round, which makes for fun strategy. I once almost broke a group of bridge-playing friends by trying to teach them - not long after "so the two players with the Queens of Clubs are playing together and the Ten of Hearts is the highest trump" they were begging me to stop.

@haute ecole rider - yeah, Ajira has a somewhat precarious existence in Morrowind. Some of it, Adryn understands from her own Skyrim experiences. Others, I don't think she does, although I'm fairly sure Dunmer in the Grey Quarter in the Fourth Era would. sad.gif

Re: names, I admit I got hardened here from Silmarillion fandom. Tolkien has no mercy as far as names are concerned, and after trying to keep Finwë, Fingolfin, Finarfin, Findis, Fingon, Finrod and Finduilas straight, you can even deal with Bethesda. laugh.gif It helps of course that Athyn Sarethi is a fairly major character if you've ever done the Redoran questline in Morrowind - a number of the NPCs I pull up are very minor (Ervesa, Jamie and Methal for instance) but Athyn is fairly important.

@treydog - yes, this was one thing I wanted to show - Adryn has built up a circle of friends again, although she doesn't much want to admit it. And yeah, being Khajiit in Morrowind is... not always fun. sad.gif

@macole - thinking about it, I'd say absolutely! In fact, I'm sure there a number of highly respected Temple mages who create tomb guardians and help maintain the Ghostfence and the like who would be shocked and appalled if you accused them of practicing necromancy. (Outlanders: "but... it's the same spells...")

@SubRosa - glad the Angry Black Man moment resonated! It struck me that this would happen when I was writing... there's a lot of ways that Ajira has to be careful that a Dunmer will not be able to understand. (Adryn understands parts but not all). As you say, privilege... aside from that, Adryn would like to note that wandering the Grazelands is a last-resort plan. indifferent.gif

Last installment, Adryn talked about her brush with her ancestral tomb with some friends. This conversation led to her agreeing to try joining the Tribunal Temple as a lay member in order to be able to investigate - after a lot of reassurance that doing so wouldn't be committing to anything. This means she has to perform the pilgrimages. Let's see how that goes...

Chapter 21.5
*****


Vivec proved much warmer than Ald'ruhn, although judging by the complaints of the natives they still considered it weather straight from Oblivion. I shrugged, secure in my status as a survivor of northern Skyrim who had the right to call inhabitants of all other regions of Tamriel pampered, never to mention in my new nice, thick, fur-lined cloak. It was most definitely overkill for the current temperatures, but cozy enough I hadn't put it away. I mainly hoped I wouldn't be forced to cut this one up.

After Ervesa and Llarara had said they'd assist me with the pilgrimages that were required to join the Temple, I'd expected them to keep me company all the way to the Temple district, but not long after we crossed the bridge to Redoran canton Ervesa gave me an apologetic wave and turned towards Arena canton, saying she'd catch up with us at the High Fane. Thankfully, Llarara stayed with me. I didn't know the priestess particularly well – last night aside – but I felt something of a bond due to our mutual endeavours in language teaching, never to mention that after my prior experiences I was uneasy travelling through Vivec without a native at my side. Llarara proved engaging company, and we compared and contrasted pedagogical techniques on the way to the Temple district, half in (slow, thank the Divines) Dunmeris and half in Tamrielic.

She also gave me something else to think about, because the Nine had apparently decided I didn't have enough already.

We were walking along a long boardwalk between St. Delyn and St. Olms cantons, Llarara picking her way around gaps and loose boards with enviable ease (she didn't even look down!) as I did my best to follow suit. The topic had meandered its way from the Temple over to childhood experiences with religion (it turned out that Llarara was from a Temple family, with many relatives among the clergy, and was fairly contemptuous of the Nine) and from there to childhood in general.

"So you don't know about your early childhood?" Llarara asked.

I bit down the instinctive reaction to change the subject. If I was going to give real consideration to the prospect of identifying my clan I'd need to be able to discuss my early days, little though I liked doing it.

"Exactly. The earliest I remember is when I was five or so, and living in a village near Daggerfall. But..." I thought back. A lot of this I'd forgotten and only learned again from Do'kharza years after the fact. "I didn't grow up there. Apparently I just – showed up in the town one day, saying something about how someone had asked me to wait there for them... but nobody showed up. The innkeeper took me in," if grudgingly, I didn't say, "since I'd clearly been abandoned. I don't remember any of it myself."

"Interesting," was Llarara's comment. I noted with a frown that there was no note of surprise in her voice – rather, one almost of satisfaction, as though I'd confirmed an expectation of hers. "That ties in well with a theory of mine."

Called it.

But what theories was she making about my childhood? The back of my neck itched at the thought.

"Oh?" I prompted her, trying to shake the unpleasant sensation of being watched.

"Your Dunmeris. It's coming along extraordinarily well." A meaningful pause. "Too well."

I stopped, feet braced across a gap, to take that in.

It was true that I'd made significant progress even in the short time I'd been taking classes. I'd moved into a more advanced course not long before my trip to Telvanni lands, and could now converse fairly well as long as my partner spoke slowly and the topic of conversation remained in the realm of concrete happenings. The grammar had come easily to me so far, and most of the time I only had to encounter a new word once in order to engrave it in my memory. At the start, I'd thought that the others in the course simply weren't sufficiently dedicated. My own stint as a teacher – in particular, seeing the effort Ajira and Jobasha put into their studies – had put paid to that notion, so I'd ended up ascribing it to native intelligence. Silently, I could admit a little bit of preening had been involved in the last.

All of which left me with no idea of what, exactly, Llarara was driving at here.

"Er... I promise I'm not faking, for what it's worth? I really have never spoken the language before, I swear."

"Actually, I'm starting to wonder about that." Before I could take offense at this slight on my honesty, Llarara moved to explain.

"A few years ago, I had another outlander in my class who also learned very quickly. When I asked her about it, she told me that when she was very young, her parents had spoken Dunmeris with her, but they'd stopped after moving to rural Colovia in order to fit in better." Llarara's face twisted at the thought – it was clear she had no understanding of why anyone would make that decision. After my experiences, I had a little more sympathy for the stance. "Children are odd, you know. They soak up new languages in a way adults can only dream of, but they forget them as quickly. When that woman came to me, she couldn't speak a word of Dunmeris... but when she started learning, it began to come back."

I cocked my head. "It's interesting – I didn't know that about children forgetting languages." And could apparently be thankful that Do'kharza had spoken Ta'agra with me, keeping the tongue alive in my mind. My knowledge of it must have come from that forgotten early childhood, leaving it at great risk of being lost.

But now wasn't the time to analyse my language skills, because I was clearly missing something here. "I'm sorry, though... what does it have to do with me?"

Llarara's stride faltered. She shot me an incredulous look, the one she'd used to pin down a fellow student who'd forgotten the Dunmeris for book for the fifth time in a single lesson. It was a look that said the giver was being exceptionally patient with one's complete and utter denseness right now. I'd never had it turned on me before, and it smarted.

"What I'm suggesting," Llarara said, very patiently, "is that you used to speak Dunmeris as a young child, likely with your parents. Then something happened, you were separated, nobody around you spoke the language and so you lost it. But the bones of it are still there in your mind, ready to be reawoken."

"Oh."

The sound escaped me involuntarily, small, almost ashamed. Now that Llarara had pointed out, I had to admit it was the obvious explanation. It truly was unusually dense of me not to have realised what she was getting at...

...but I knew why. In fact, the concept still sat uneasily with me, like a rock in my stomach, my body unable to absorb it. It had been a long time since I'd stopped thinking about my past, since I'd taken my origins as a given. Rationally, I'd known I must have had parents at some point, that I hadn't simply sprung into existence in that village one day. My recent brush with my apparent clan had only served to confirm that. But...

But it was different, I thought. A tomb, a strange skeleton, the possibility of a name – those weren't people. The thought of actual parents, possibly even still alive, of someone out there who might be my close flesh and blood, it was – too much, too alien. I didn't know how to handle it.

Entirely too many things I didn't know how to handle had been happening of late.

I squeezed my eyes shut, banished the beginnings of panic I could feel flickering in my stomach.

Well. Llarara's theory was interesting, but at the end of the day it was just an unproven theory, one which had no impact on my life as it stood one way or another. There was really no need to think more on it. I might be considering an investigation into my origins, but I could leave it at the level of clan names, of dusty tombs and overly-friendly undead. I'd sat with those concepts for a while now and had come to the conclusion I could probably just about deal with them. There was simply no need to add more complications on top.

Decided, I changed the subject. "So... about these pilgrimages?"

Llarara gave me a piercing look, making me squirm. I suspected she knew exactly what I was trying to do here.

Thankfully, she was merciful, because after a moment she went with it.

"There are three shrines in Vivec proper, two at the Palace and one at the High Fane. I suggest you visit that shrine first..."

*****


The priestess and I stared at each other. The air between us crackled with tension.

To the side, Ervesa let out a loud, demonstrative groan. Both of us ignored her.

"I would be very grateful if you could explain to me precisely what makes a home-brewed potion unsuitable as a shrine offering." I did my best to mimic Ingerte's most icy politeness, the one that had broken down an Imperial tax collector to the point where he apologised to us for the inconvenience.

Alas, my imitation was clearly imperfect, because the priestess didn't seem fazed. "Offerings must be of a certain quality to be acceptable to Lord Vivec. In the past, we've found home-brewed potions too variable, running the risk of offending Him if we permit them."

I gritted my teeth. "That's perfectly understandable, but as I've told you multiple times now, I'm a freelance alchemist who supplies multiple stores in Ald'ruhn, including one of your Temples." With ingredients, not potions, but given that that was due to lack of equipment and not of capability I felt the point stood nonetheless. "My potions are professionally brewed and of high quality, and your insistence that I should buy from you instead makes me wonder if this is some sort of racket." I let my eyes trail over the vials on the stand. "Especially given what you're trying to sell. Are those supposed to be potions? Because they look like someone bottled swamp water and decided to call it a day."

The priestess went blotchy.

"Adryn." Ervesa, vanquisher of kagouti, rescuer of alchemists in distress, all-around dashing hero, sounded afraid. I didn't realise she even deigned to recognise that emotion. Perhaps she was ill? "Adryn, please. I will buy the potion for you, all right?"

"It's the principle of the thing!"

"Swamp water?" The priestess had apparently finally caught up with the conversation. "I've never been so insulted in my life!"

I blinked. "Really? Given that I wasn't even trying, I can definitely change that for you."

Ervesa pulled at her hair. "Adryn, I will pay you to stop-"

"I'll let you know my potions have been certified by a Master of Alchemy-"

"Was he possibly drunk at the time?"

A high-pitched whimpering noise escaped Ervesa. A quick glance showed that she was covering her eyes, as if trying to block out the sight before her. Puzzling, since there was really nothing going on to cause such a reaction. Perhaps she wasn't feeling well?

"What exactly is going on here?"

Ervesa, the priestess and I turned around as one to find a second priestess, older and bearing far more of an air of authority, looking at the three of us sternly. She looked familiar, I thought. Wasn't she the priestess I'd spoken to after the ash statue incident? What had her name been – Lura? Lora?

"Sister Lloran!"

Yes, that had been it!

"Sister Lloran," the priestess broke in before Ervesa could continue, "this- outlander-" the intonation on that word made it clear it was standing in for one far less polite, "is demanding she be allowed to use home-brewed materials in a shrine ritual! I cannot possibly allow her to contaminate the-"

Lloran held up her hand, causing the priestess's mouth to snap shut. Her eyes met mine. "Adryn, isn't it?"

She, I noted with annoyance, had no difficulty at all recalling my name. Well, perhaps it wasn't much of a surprise – it couldn't be every day someone was (wrongfully) arrested for murder in your office. "Yes, ma'am. And I'm just-"

The hand went up again. My mouth shut without consulting my brain first.

"I wasn't aware you were seeking entrance in the Temple as a lay member."

All right, her remembering my name was understandable, but this was more of a puzzle. Why would she expect to be aware? Why should she care about what I was doing at all?

"It's a recent decision," I said warily.

The woman's mouth smiled. Her eyes, I noted, did not. "I'm delighted to hear it. Sister," she turned to the priestess, "the aspiring lay member Adryn is known to us as an apothecary and alchemist. Her potions are of an acceptable quality for the ritual. Let her use them."

It was really, truly annoying that I couldn't properly enjoy the noise the priestess let out at that, because it was a thing of true beauty. Really, I would have liked nothing more than to indulge in a touch of malicious enjoyment at the sight of her being smacked down by her own superior like that. Alas for my gloating, it sadly had to come second behind a slow, creeping feeling of worry.

Why on Nirn would this woman care about the alchemical goods supply for Ald'ruhn Temple, to the point of knowing who one of the suppliers was? Or care about me to the pont where she knew my professional aspirations? We'd met all of the once, and even if it had been a memorable occasion she clearly had other worries.

I'd try to explain it away, except that this was the second high-ranking priest who was taking an inordinate interest in me. My leading theory for Methal was that he was bored and had latched on to me as an outlet for idle curiosity – but Lloran, too?

"Well, outlander?" A voice cut through my musings. "Are you planning to actually complete the ritual at any point?"

In my distraction, I'd missed Lloran leaving. Now, the priestess she'd so unceremoniously cut to size was glaring daggers at me. In the background, it looked as though Ervesa was trying to become one with the wall.

"I was simply reflecting," I told the woman. "Cleansing my mind of negative emotions. I may only be an aspiring lay member, but it was my understanding this is an important part of the process. Have I misunderstood?"

If she kept grinding her teeth like that, she'd need to see one of the specialist healers for reconstruction before she was even middle-aged.

Still, although I'd mainly said it to avoid apologising, there was a grain of truth to my words. This was really not the right place or time to be worrying about the Temple hierarchy's strange interest in me. I pushed my questions down, promising myself to consider them later tonight, and knelt before the triangular stone with my vial in hand.

Staying calm proved difficult not just because of my lurking doubts but because I could feel the priestess's eyes burning into my back. I persevered nonetheless – I might not intend to actually convert, but when it came to religion it always paid to be respectful. I did my best to ignore the sensation of someone trying to set me on fire through the power of sheer hate and focused on the text engraved on the stone.

When Sheogorath tricked Baar Dau to hurl itself upon Lord Vivec's city, the Poet-Warrior froze the rogue moon with a single gesture. Overwhelmed by his courage and daring, the moon swore itself to the eternal service of the Tribunal and all its works.

This sort of thing would be much easier to cynically dismiss as empty bragging if not for the floating rock right there above me.

I focused on the feeling of awe, uncorked the vial, and poured my potion into the basin in front of the shrine. The instant it came into contact with the stone, the liquid glowed blue and vanished.

All right, enough awe, it was time for smug victory. I could feel a wide smile spread uncontrollably across my face. "See? I told you, my... potions..."

It became very difficult to focus on gloating when I felt my feet leave the ground.

"...what?"

I glanced downwards. Sure enough, I was hovering several inches above the stone of the courtyard, my feet outlined in purple light just as they had been back in Arkngthand.

But I definitely hadn't drunk the potion-

"Er, is this supposed to happen?"

I directed the question at Ervesa, but it was the priestess who answered. "Obviously, outlander. All the shrines confer blessings. Fancy not knowing that!"

There was condescension mixed with a good dose of malice in her voice. Just a minute ago, I'd definitely have taken that as a cue to escalate further, but right now I was more concerned with other things.

"And... how long does it last?" My hand crept to my throat. The Slowfall amulet itself was tucked away beneath my shirt, but its chain crept out from under the collar to loop around my neck. I grasped it now to reassure myself.

"An hour or so." This time Ervesa responded, sounding distinctly frazzled. "It wears off slowly, though, giving you plenty of time to get back down to ground."

I considered this silently.

"Er... I'm sorry I didn't warn you, Adryn. Discovering the effect of a shrine is a rite of passage... you're not upset, are you?"

"Upset?" I repeated, confused.

Between teleportation accidents and my exploits in Arkngthand, I'd spent more time than one might expect (in other words: any time at all) floating in midair since arriving in Vvardenfell. However, all my previous experiences had involved enough fear for my life that I hadn't been able to properly react to the situation. Here and now, I was not about to be turned into a pincushion by bandits, nor about to have my internal organs forcibly distributed across the nearby landscape. I was, in short, free to enjoy a sensation dreamed of by many.

"Obviously I'm not upset. Ervesa, I'm flying!"

If, at a later date, Ervesa were to claim that I let out a high-pitched wheeee as I shot up into the sky, this would be a perfidious lie.

*****


--------------------
User is offlineProfile CardPM
Go to the top of the page
+Quote Post
haute ecole rider
post May 10 2020, 03:56 PM
Post #498


Master
Group Icon
Joined: 16-March 10
From: The place where the Witchhorses play



Oh my Lord did Adryn just try to pick a fight with a Temple priestess?? If she keeps this up Vivec is going to notice her! And I"m not sure Adryn wants Vivec to notice her . . .

Flying? Indeed. Flying can be quite enjoyable when you're not worrying about your life.

What a chuckle worthy installment which I enjoyed immensely!


--------------------
User is offlineProfile CardPM
Go to the top of the page
+Quote Post
SubRosa
post May 10 2020, 08:18 PM
Post #499


Ancient
Group Icon
Joined: 14-March 10
From: Between The Worlds



So it looks like Adryn grew up hearing her parents speaking Dunmeris. But it was so long ago she lost most of it.

I have forgotten all of the French I took in high school. So it is not only children who forget languages! laugh.gif

My guess is that the Temple does not make any money from a home-brewed potion as an offering?

Swamp water! laugh.gif Adryn is using that charisma of hers to good effect! biggrin.gif

Well that is one way to phrase Baar Dau being thrown at Vivec. Another is that Vivec is such a bag of dicks that it prompted someone to throw a giant rock at him, and he left it floating there so that if the Dunmer ever kicked him to the curb, it would finish its descent and kill them all. But maybe I am just being cynical? wink.gif

Adryn is flying high again! January most definitely approves!


--------------------
User is offlineProfile CardPM
Go to the top of the page
+Quote Post
ghastley
post May 11 2020, 01:57 PM
Post #500


Councilor
Group Icon
Joined: 13-December 10



Wait, Adryn is comfortably hovering just a few inches above the ground, when she could be banging her head on the ceiling? The world's going going sane!

Should we panic? biggrin.gif


--------------------
Mods for The Elder Scrolls single-player games, and I play ESO.
User is offlineProfile CardPM
Go to the top of the page
+Quote Post

29 Pages V « < 23 24 25 26 27 > » 
Reply to this topicStart new topic
1 User(s) are reading this topic (1 Guests and 0 Anonymous Users)
0 Members:

 

- Lo-Fi Version Time is now: 29th March 2024 - 12:00 PM