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> Outlanders (Morrowind Crossover)
Acadian
post May 8 2022, 08:47 PM
Post #41


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Let’s party! Um, no, this is entirely too stuffy an affair where tense politicking and maneuvering overwhelm the savory smells wafting through the air. I do find it a hoot to note that the pompous Dunmer of the ‘Great Houses’ go to great lengths to be seen in the latest Imperial (not Dunmer) fashions. In the case of our host, that even includes sporting trophy Imperial on his arm. Quinn has already learned to put their fashion festish to use.

Despite the restrictions, Jane seems happy to be coming along – that is good.

Nice job setting up and describing this tense situation.

I learned a couple new words from you - paroxysms and entrepôt. Neat! smile.gif


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Renee
post May 9 2022, 01:27 PM
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QUOTE
"By the way," Quinn said, "I was talking to Briltasi Talori, you know, of the Talori family, and she invited us to this big party she's having on Loredas. It sounds like everyone's going to be there, so it'd be great for me. And the rest of you, of course. Maybe not you," she finished, looking at Daria.


Oh gosh that's rude! Briltasi's really full of herself.

Do Dunmer dance? If you're in Suran they certainly do sometimes. embarrased.gif

Daria's Speechcraft goes up a notch with the success of her lie at the end of C2. Okay now let's read this party. I can already sense... I don't know... disaster? Plenty of faux pas moments? laugh.gif Whichever, you really describe the atmosphere at this party well. Sort of elegant, sort of stuffy. But also retaining the Dunmer style of slight contempt and haughtiness.

Oh goodness, I wonder what's going to happen. Something definitely disturbing, right?

This post has been edited by Renee: May 9 2022, 01:29 PM


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WellTemperedClavier
post May 9 2022, 05:00 PM
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No story update today (that'll be on Wednesday), but I wanted to respond to everyone's thoughtful comments!

QUOTE(SubRosa @ May 7 2022, 08:18 PM) *

It's the night of the big party. It reminds me of the party in the show that Brittney threw, except without the parents.


Yup! It's basically that episode. That said, this story is the only one that patterns itself off a show episode so closely. While future stories will take a lot of the events seen in the show, they'll typically happen in different ways or even to different characters. Diverging from canon makes it more fun to write (and hopefully to read, as well).

QUOTE(SubRosa @ May 7 2022, 08:18 PM) *

Mom makes a good comment about whose side Daria might be perceived as being on when the revolution happens. But Mom is not the best observer of history. Mike Duncan's Revolution podcast really brings out some commonalities in successful revolutions. For starters they are formed of two groups. 1 is the exploited underclass who do the fighting in the streets. 2 are members of the professional, middle class. People with an education who can both organize, but also can talk to the upper class in a language they can understand. You know, lawyers. If you only have #1 you just have riots that burn out after a little while. If you only have #2 you just have people talking about change but never taking action. I could easily see Daria as a future John Adams.


Very good point! I haven't heard the podcast, though your description does remind me (oddly) of the Theory and Practice of Collective Oligarchism, the book-within-a-book of Orwell's 1984. Sadly, this Tamriel follows a pretty similar course to the Tamriel of the games. But one wonders what might have happened if the Septims had continued reigning. The Third Empire under their rule seemed at least to have pretty widespread literacy. High expectations combined with a slow and ossified ruling class could have led to a Tamrielic Enlightenment of sorts.

Might be a good AU fanfic in there for someone.

QUOTE(SubRosa @ May 7 2022, 08:18 PM) *

I love Daria's continued comments on the fortified nature of the manors.

I have to admit to wanting to hear Quinn play mean girl "frenemies" with Synda. I don't know how "popular" people have the energy for that.

I loved Daria's unspoken jab at the three mortal wizards.


Yeah, I never understood how people had the energy for that, either. It sounds exhausting.

Daria's opinions on the Tribunal will lead to some conflict with Jane farther down the line. I try to walk a balance in the presentation, since while I detest the Tribunal, I also realize that the vast majority of Dunmer have no idea what their gods are really all about. And, given that she's a representative of a colonialist and expansionist state (however reluctantly), Daria's probably not the best person to correct the Dunmer since anything she does will look like Imperial propaganda (and, in effect, be Imperial propaganda even though she's correct).

QUOTE(Acadian @ May 8 2022, 08:47 PM) *

Let’s party! Um, no, this is entirely too stuffy an affair where tense politicking and maneuvering overwhelm the savory smells wafting through the air. I do find it a hoot to note that the pompous Dunmer of the ‘Great Houses’ go to great lengths to be seen in the latest Imperial (not Dunmer) fashions. In the case of our host, that even includes sporting trophy Imperial on his arm. Quinn has already learned to put their fashion festish to use.


Heh! From my understanding, "teenagers" as a distinct group are kind of a modern marketing invention. Since this is still a vaguely medieval/Renaissance/early modern setting, I figure that there wouldn't be such a sharp distinction. Which is also why Daria and Jane can drink booze without anyone batting an eye.

The Imperial fashion is really more of a Great House Hlaalu thing. The other Great Houses wouldn't be caught dead in anything but traditional Dunmer clothing (save for Great House Telvanni, whose wizard lords will wear whatever they want--or nothing at all--as the mood strikes them). But yeah, shows how Hlaalu sucks up to the Empire.

QUOTE(Acadian @ May 8 2022, 08:47 PM) *

Despite the restrictions, Jane seems happy to be coming along – that is good.

Nice job setting up and describing this tense situation.

I learned a couple new words from you - paroxysms and entrepôt. Neat! smile.gif


Thanks!


QUOTE(Renee @ May 9 2022, 01:27 PM) *

QUOTE
"By the way," Quinn said, "I was talking to Briltasi Talori, you know, of the Talori family, and she invited us to this big party she's having on Loredas. It sounds like everyone's going to be there, so it'd be great for me. And the rest of you, of course. Maybe not you," she finished, looking at Daria.


Oh gosh that's rude! Briltasi's really full of herself.

Do Dunmer dance? If you're in Suran they certainly do sometimes. embarrased.gif


Ha ha! I actually slightly regret not having dancing in this party. Even if it's not normally associated with Dunmer, these are Dunmer closely linked to the Empire, so they might pick up some Imperial habits.

QUOTE(Renee @ May 9 2022, 01:27 PM) *

Daria's Speechcraft goes up a notch with the success of her lie at the end of C2. Okay now let's read this party. I can already sense... I don't know... disaster? Plenty of faux pas moments? laugh.gif Whichever, you really describe the atmosphere at this party well. Sort of elegant, sort of stuffy. But also retaining the Dunmer style of slight contempt and haughtiness.

Oh goodness, I wonder what's going to happen. Something definitely disturbing, right?


That's what I was trying to do. The party is essentially work, since so much of it relates to networking. Goes right down to the table arrangements.
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WellTemperedClavier
post May 11 2022, 05:19 PM
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Episode 3: An Invitation

Chapter 4


*****

Musical Intro - Daria was known for using a lot of pop and alternative songs to help set the tone of the series. Since this is a Daria fanfic, I figured I'd do the same and add musical intros/outros to some chapters. I'll try to lean toward stuff that was already around in the '90s and early '00s, including some that were featured on the show, but I won't strictly limit myself to those. Anyway, for this chapter, it's going to be:

The Sweater Song, by Weezer

*****

The Taloris went all out with dinner. Appetizers of fried saltrice strands and gelatinous eyestars paved the way to a heroic main course of ornada (an ornada resembling a cat-sized ant that tasted like lobster) braised in comberry wine and served in its still bright-red carapace, its fat legs curled tightly under its thorax. Bowls of marshmerrow pulp mixed with shredded ash yams served as dessert. Servants refilled emptied cups with imported rice wine from central Cyrodiil. Having grown up off Gold Coast, not too far from western Cyrodiil's grape country, Daria reasoned that she probably found the drink just as strange as the Dunmer did. Strange, but by no means bad.

And a welcome relief.

Some of the families put aside bits and pieces of their meals for their servants, who stood in a state of famished torment as the feast's riot of sweet and sour smells filled the enormous room. Other families didn't bother.

Daria kept staring guiltily at Jane, who looked completely absorbed in her artwork. Jane's plan had been to make a quick and flattering painting of the Morgendorffers and show it around to advertise her skills. Never a big eater, Daria put aside a generous amount for her only friend.

All the while the room buzzed with conversation. Words snapped in and out of her ears, never enough to piece together a full conversation. Mom took note of every missed opportunity, she was sure, but how could anyone talk on and on about getting good deals on Solstheim furs or exactly how much money the Sloan family really had? Quinn and Jolda talked, or at least Quinn did, Jolda nodding and smiling in response. Dad seemed interested in whatever Jolda's father had to say.

Thoughts of the attack kept replaying in Daria's mind, undeterred by her one and a half cups of rice wine. All the while Synda ate her meal at the neighboring table in complete serenity, Daria's pain no more than an amusement.

How many of the other Dunmer would find it equally amusing?

Not fair to think that, she noted. But she couldn't quite get it out of her head.

Finally, the meal ended, and the social mingling began. Daria stood up and took the bowl she'd reserved for Jane, complete with a full ornada leg.

"Hey, give Jane some of ours, too," dad said, piling some marshmerrow into the bowl. Mom and Quinn followed suit until the small vessel threatened to overflow.

Pleased at her family's generosity, she added a spare fork to the meal and walked over to Jane, who was still busy at work.

"Got this for you," Daria said. "Sorry it's so late."

Jane's eyes widened as she took the bowl. "Wow, I was not expecting a whole ornada leg?"

"I think so?" Daria said. "Hard to know given I've never seen an ornada before tonight."

Jane grabbed the segmented leg and ripped into it with her teeth, tearing off the translucent red carapace before biting into the white flesh beneath, flecks flying off the side of her mouth.

Daria blinked in surprise. "Uh, I also brought you a fork," she said.

"Forks are for rich people," Jane mumbled between bites.

"I don't think socioeconomic status really affects one's ability to use utensils."

Jane paused. "Seriously, Daria, I don't know how to use one. And I'm not going to waste time learning when there's this delicious meal in front of me! And thank you again for bringing me this!"

Daria looked at the drying painting while Jane ate. Jane had made the image in swift broad strokes, trying to capture as much as she could in the limited time available. For all that, her intent had come through: the Morgendorffers as refined and tasteful members of the merchant class. The painted Daria, smiling and sans glasses, engaged in conversation with a Quinn who noxiously managed to look even more graceful and lovely on canvas than in reality.

"It's beautiful. But if you think that's how we look then I think you might be the one who needs glasses," Daria said.

Jane shrugged. "Hey, a lot of the people in these walls hire artists to flatter. Not many want paintings of what they really look like."

"Kidding aside, it is excellent. How did you do it so quickly?"

"I took a few shortcuts. Most people won't notice." Jane tossed the now-empty carapace on the floor. "That's the nice thing about selling to the artistically illiterate."

"Not to mention ethically bankrupt," Daria added.

"Now come on, I need your help once this dries out," Jane said. "Remember, I'm your menial, so you need to break the ice for me. Wouldn't look good to have a lowborn like me pestering all these good people. Plus, it gives you a chance to network."

"Mutual exploitation is the foundation for any good friendship."

Jane shrugged. "Seems to work for Hlaalu and the Empire."

"Let me get another one of these, first," Daria said, taking her empty cup and filling it to the brim with warm rice wine. A nearby servant watched her initiative with a disapproving frown, which she chose to ignore.



*********



Karl the Unctuous (though he knew he'd one day be called Karl the Lover, or perhaps Karl the Golden like his father) observed the wondrous array before him and hid his gut-wrenching terror behind a smile.

Dinners like this were the perfect opportunity to meet new and interesting people. And from there, well, anything could happen, and his heart soared at the thought of soft kisses and perfumed arms. He'd left nothing to chance, styling his curly red hair and shaving with great precision to avoid any unsightly nicks or scratches. His extravagant yellow coat gleamed in the lantern light.

And he had one more way to make himself (hopefully) sound and look like the man he wanted to be.

The three lunkheads from Drenlyn were again drooling over Quinn and arguing as to the best way to woo her.

"Girls like dancing, so we should ask her to dance!" Jonus said, perspiration causing his lank black hair to stick to his brow.

"There's no music, dummy! I don't think this is that kind of party," Julien disagreed, drink and heat rendering his face almost as red as his coppery hair.

"So two of us could like, sing or something," blond Jeval suggested, his black Bosmer eyes fixed on the object of his fascination, "and the third one dances with her."

"Sure," Julien scoffed. "I volunteer to dance with her while you two suckers sing!"

"No way!" Jeval protested. "It was my idea, I should be the one to dance with her."

Karl announced his presence with what he hoped was a knowing chuckle. It got the trio's attention, at any rate.

"What's so funny, weirdo?" Jonus demanded.

"Simply observing your intense but perhaps myopic ardor for the admittedly stunning Quinn Morgendorffer."

"Does anyone know what the hell he's talking about?" Jeval asked.

Karl straightened up and tugged at his coat's silver-threaded lapels. If he spun this the right way, he could make a tidy profit from his plan.

"Gentlemen, I believe we pursue the same goals," he announced, thrusting a bony index finger into the air.

"Get lost! We saw Quinn first!"

Karl cleared his throat and let his arm drop. "I mean, we'd all like to win the hand of a lovely maiden. I certainly would not intrude on your quest for the luscious younger Morgendorffer. But mortal Men and Mer that we are, it'd certainly behoove us to smell our best, so to speak."

The three stared at him with blank expressions. Karl waggled his eyebrows and reached into his coat, taking out a long-necked porcelain bottle he'd carefully tucked away.

"I present to you none other than genuine Telvanni bug musk, the finest cologne in all of Morrowind--nay, all of Tamriel!"

He uncorked the bottle and held it out, just a bit so that he could pull back if any of the goons tried to grab it. A spicy and prickly scent drifted out from the open vessel, redolent of eastern Morrowind's arcane darkness.

Jonus sneered. "There's no way you got your hands on the real thing."

"On the contrary, my good man. My father's a deputy of the East Empire Company after all, and I am something of an, ahem, unofficial company agent," Karl said, following his words with a grin.

Being an intern was just like being an unofficial agent, he was pretty sure.

"So, are you going to share that with us?" Julien demanded.

"Share? No, not share, there are limits to even my generosity. But I may be willing to sell some portion of this enchanting aroma. There should be enough here for the four of us."

That way, even if wearing the musk failed to win him any lovelies, he'd still have coin to go toward a finer suit of clothes. Another brilliant plan!

The three went into a huddle, voices low and murmuring. They turned to face him once they finished, eyes wide with hope and mouths set in doubt.

"Before we pay for this, we want to see you try it out. Put some on yourself and then ask Quinn to dance," Julien said.

"No, you idiot! What if Quinn decides she likes him?" Jonus interjected.

Jeval settled it. "Put some on yourself and ask some other girl. Maybe that sister of hers or whatever."

Karl smiled and bowed. "Very well. Prepare to see the power of bug musk in action!"

He didn't actually know if this would work. Everyone said it smelled enchanting though it hadn't smelled all that great to him. Taking it from his father's cabinet had been a big risk--but how could he deny opportunity?

Karl opened the bottle again and poured out some of the clear liquid on his right hand. He dabbed it on his neck and brow, stifling a sneeze as he got a stronger dose of the stuff.

Now or never. Puffing out his chest he headed straight toward Daria Morgendorffer and the Dunmer girl she was often with. He ran his fingers through his hair, dreaming of the passion the two (or maybe three) of them would soon enjoy. Daria was no beauty but she certainly wasn't unattractive, in spite of the awkward spectacles barely balanced on her nose.

"Ah, if it isn't the lovely Miss Morgendorffer," he said, giving a florid bow. Already he imagined her senses intrigued by the powerful fragrance that clung to his body. "So often I've seen your beauty gracing the drab halls of Drenlyn Academy, yet we've never had the chance to interact. So, pray tell, where have you been all my life?"

He leaned close. Would she just go in and kiss him after the preamble? Did girls do that?

No expression stirred her stoic face, eyes cold and distorted behind the thick lenses. "I've been staying as far away from you as humanly possible, something I intend to continue doing for the rest of your life."

She turned and walked away with her friend.

Karl tried to halt the panic rising within his chest. "I'll be here when you lovely ladies are ready," he said.

The trio was already jeering.

"I knew it! Whatever he has in that bottle isn't the real thing," Jeval huffed.

"It absolutely is the genuine item!" Karl protested, his voice getting reedier as his words quickened. He knew that for a fact!

Brainstorming for an excuse, he continued. "But perhaps I didn't use enough. I know exactly what to add to the mixture to make this bug musk live up to its reputation. Rest assured, I am a proficient alchemist!"

He'd taken a few alchemy lessons, at any rate. Karl looked for an escape route. "I'll be back shortly!" he said, hurrying deeper into the manor home, heart pounding and very much needing a few moments to recalibrate himself and his cologne.



*********



"I guess you had to run into Karl the Unctuous sooner or later," Jane said, as the skinny Nord hurried away.

"Whatever connections he has can't be worth it," Daria said. "And I think even my mom would back me on that."

"His dad does run the East Empire Company's Balmora office."

"All the more reason to avoid him."

"It's a pretty dinky office, anyway. So one unworthy prospect shot down, a few dozen more to go." Jane eyed the crowd.

Daria sighed. "You know these people better than me. Who isn't awful?"

Jane frowned. "Hmm, that might not be the best metric by which to pick. Hey, how about Serjo Talori himself? Since you're already giving into corruption you might as well go all out."

Daria glanced at the master of the house, who was chatting with a wealthy-looking Imperial couple. He did seem at ease with outlanders. Though his own wife had still been seated at the other outlander table, matrimonial bonds be damned.

"I guess I don't have a choice."

"Just remember to bow," Jane said. "Both when you meet him, and when you leave. Refer to him as Serjo Talori--nobles always get the 'serjo'. Keep your eyes a little downcast, like you can't quite bear to bask in his radiance. Give your parents' names before you give yours. Talk him up on being part of Hlaalu, he'll love that. Make sure your hands are open, not balled up in fists like they are right now. I think that's it?"

"You think? Maybe you should do this, Jane."

"You're not noble, but you are respectable. Us Llayns are proud menials. Come on, you'll be fine. Serjo Talori does a lot of business with outlanders, so he's used to the occasional screw-up."

Jane put her hand on Daria's back and nudged her forward. Daria's booted feet shuffled on the flagstones.

"Oh, don't shuffle either," Jane warned. "Forgot to mention that."

Resigned, she took proper steps, her stiff clothes fighting her every inch of the way. When she reached Sedrane she bowed and waited expectantly. He continued chatting.

Daria glanced at Jane, hoping for a hint. But Jane had her gaze on the floor, hands clasped around the painting.

"Excuse me," Daria said, a bit louder than she'd intended to.

Sedrane stopped in the middle of describing saltrice investments in the Ascadian Isles.

Trying to strengthen her position, Daria met Sedrane's gaze head-on. "Uh, good evening Serjo Talori. I'm Daria Morgendorffer, and I wanted to thank you for this lavish meal and for inviting me and my family. Uh, congratulations on being a part of House Hlaalu."

Only then did she remember that she wasn't supposed to look him in the eyes and that she wasn't supposed to have her hands clenched. She released her grip but didn't turn her gaze.

"And who are you?" Sedrane asked.

"I just said--" she stopped, remembering that she was supposed to introduce her father. "I mean, I'm Jake and Helen Morgendorffer's daughter." Her words came out more acidly than she'd intended.

"Ohh, of course. My daughter suggested your family." Sedrane chuckled. "I've heard of your father, he helped the Hlerso family close that deal in Seyda Neen a few months back. Impressive work."

"He did," Daria said, remembering the transaction in question. "Anyway, I'm training at Drenlyn to be a savant. And uh, this is my friend Jane, who is an artist."

Weight lifted from Daria's shoulders the moment she diverted Sedrane's--she'd be damned if she ever thought of him as Serjo Talori--attention to Jane.

"Thank you, Mistress Daria," Jane said, her voice suddenly crumpled up like old parchment. "The Morgendorffers were kind enough to request my services so that I might capture the honor of your invitation in paint. This is but a practice draft, but I pray I was able to portray the refinement and grace of my employers."

Chills ran down Daria's spine. The confident Jane was gone, replaced by a bowing and cringing girl she barely recognized. Sedrane leaned in for a closer look at the painting.

"Not bad," he said. "The brushwork gets a little lazy at the edges."

"My apologies, Serjo Talori. And to you, Mistress Daria. I assure you that the finished product will not be marred by such carelessness."

"I'm a bit of an art aficionado myself," Sedrane said. "I tend to prefer traditional Dunmer styles. In painting, if not in wardrobe," he added, with a chuckle, turning slightly to show off his coat.

"I've seen some more traditional work from Jane. It's excellent," Daria said.

Sedrane faced her. "Given that you're an outlander, how would you know what makes for good Dunmer art? Anyway, I have plenty of native artists I can choose from. I can tell that your artistic menial isn't from Morrowind. But I'm sure plenty of other outlanders would love to hang her scribblings on their walls. Good evening, ladies."

Daria was too angry to remember to bow.

"How could you stand that?" Daria demanded, as they walked away.

"It's just how it is."

"And how did he know you're not from here? You're both Dunmer. You're wearing Imperial clothes, but so is he."

Jane shrugged. "They always know, Daria. Don't ask me how, they just do. Anyway, one more on the reject pile. Who else?"

"Is 'nobody' an option?" Daria asked.



Charles "Upchuck" Ruttheimer III (Karl the Unctuous) - Easily the most loathed student in the show's Lawndale High, Karl the Unctuous is similarly hated. He's sleazy, but too inept to be terribly harmful.

Ornada - This is an antlike critter. It's only found in the Tamriel Rebuilt mod, which is loosely canonical to this series (in broad geographic and cultural strokes, anyway).

This post has been edited by WellTemperedClavier: May 11 2022, 05:22 PM
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Acadian
post May 12 2022, 08:45 PM
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"Mutual exploitation is the foundation for any good friendship."
Jane shrugged. "Seems to work for Hlaalu and the Empire."

tongue.gif

Oh, bug musk. . . . That sounds like quite the way to win the heart of an Imperial lass from Cyrodiil. blink.gif

Well done to Daria on her appropriate response to Karl.

Thank Kynareth that Jane is there for Daria. Despite the coaching and reasonable performance from Daria, Serjo Talori quickly reveals himself to be a pompous jerk typical House Hlaalu Dunmer. Ugh. Looks like a long evening ahead for Daria.


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SubRosa
post May 13 2022, 12:24 AM
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I look forward to hearing some Mystik Spiral tunes, like Little Sister, or Freakin' Friends. I wish Trent's band was real, because I'd love to go see them.

Once again, I liked the not so subtle nod to the Classism in evidence. The servants literally eat the scraps from their master's plates.

Wait, Jane painted Daria smiling, and without her glasses! Nine Divines save us! laugh.gif

I know he is an absolute creeper, but I always had a soft spot for Upchuck. I guess unlike modern Incels, he always felt harmless to me. Granted, it is animated. All the characters are "better' than their counterparts would be IRL. Even Kevin and Brittany are often nice to Daria. They insult her without even knowing it. Where the real jock and cheerleader would be mocking her on purpose.

Upchuck has a secret weapon! The (in)famous bug musk! Now I see his plan. He's going to sell it to the Three Stooges. Now I really do respect him. That is how to do Capitalism. Erm, I mean entrepreneurship.

But not even the mighty Bug Musk of the Telvanni Wizard Lords can make a dent against Daria's cool demeanor. Only Trent can do that.

Wow, Jane knows how to lay it on thick for the snobs. But to no avail. Snobs are snobs everywhere.


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WellTemperedClavier
post May 14 2022, 04:40 PM
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So I've settled into an update schedule of Wednesday and Saturday. Does this work for people? I can change it if not.

@ Acadian - The first of many long evenings...

@ SubRosa - Don't fret, Trent will appear... in the next episode, as a matter of fact. He's a bard here (surprise, surprise).

At the very least, Upchuck doesn't have the stewing anger and resentment seen among some incels. He's just a really inept '90s style pickup artist who believes his own hype.

Episode 3: An Invitation

Chapter 5


Karl had disappeared somewhere. Jonus, Julien, and Jeval argued about what to do next.

"Maybe Karl just screwed up the delivery. Maybe that bug musk was real!" Julien hadn't quite given up on the idea.

Jeval sniffed in disapproval. "No way. Karl's always full of it."

Jonus settled it. "Even if it was real, we're not creeps like he is. We don't need some crappy perfume. But we still gotta do something!"

"So we just all ask her out now?" Julien wondered.

Jeval wasn't satisfied. "But which of us gets her?"

"That's up to her," Jonus said. "Look, if none of us gets her, some other guy will, so we better make a move! There she is now, headed toward the refreshments!"

Sure enough, Quinn was walking toward the drinks table, so graceful that she seemed to hover above the floor, her feet untainted by its dust.

Jonus got there first, cutting in front of her. "Hey, Quinn! Do you want me to get some wine for you?"

He'd scarcely finished when Julien made his pitch. "I'll get you two goblets of wine!"

Jeval stood on his tiptoes to be seen over his friends. "I'll get you three!"

Quinn's irresistible lips turned up in a goddess's smile.

"Hmm, I guess you could get me some water," she said.

Immediately all three rushed to the table. Julien lunged only to be blocked by a quick parry from Jonus. Agile Jeval darted in and grabbed a clay flask, light fingered hands closing around the neck only to have Julien pull it out of reach. Julien grunted in pain as Jonus stepped on his foot and grabbed the flask.

Jonus spun around on his heel, dropping on one knee and holding it out.

"Here you go!"

"No fair!" Jeval bellowed.

"That should've been me!" Julien insisted.

But their goddess had already picked up the flask and raised it to the pink bow of her lips. She gave a contented sigh of satisfaction as all three watched in awe.

"That was nice. Now I'm hungry. Who wants to get me a snack?"

Again, all three volunteered.



*********



"Let's see," Daria said, as her headache worsened. "So far, I've inadvertently insulted at least three local notables, including the host, and completely alienated a fourth."

"All in a night's work," Jane said. Her cheerful tone belied her furrowed brow and tense jawline.

Daria knew she hadn't actually done anything to help her friend. Social niceties always eluded her, their rules as inconstant as quicksilver. Easier by far to focus on the facts of history and geography and law, which only changed slowly and through proper channels.

Somewhere in the distance Daria heard Quinn's high-pitched and delicate laughter, the kind she practiced in front of the mirror and not the lower-toned laugh she made when she actually found something funny. Never hard for her to play a role. Hopefully Quinn's efforts would make up for Daria's failures.

"Hey, what about Jolda?" Jane pointed at the Redguard girl, who was chatting with the legion officer she'd been sitting next to.

Daria had avoided Jolda, too embarrassed at having barely said a word to her over dinner. But with the night coming to a close, she needed to try. "What do you know about her?"

"Her parents are both wealthy." Jane stepped in close, her raspy voice lowering to a whisper. "There's a rumor that her dad has a charter to tinker with Dwemer artifacts."

"Okay, that's actually legitimately impressive."

Jane stepped back. "Don't ask her about it, though."

Daria decided to try talking with Jolda. She was almost at the end of her rope, though. Worse, her cumbersome robe was practically cooking her in the now hot and crowded feast hall, its air dense with droning conversation and alcoholic fumes. How could anyone network in this kind of environment?

She reached Jolda and paused for an awkward moment of silence before speaking. "I didn't properly introduce myself earlier," she said, her words flat and quick. "I'm Daria Morgendorffer."

"Jolda at-Armand," she said. "Your family seems really nice."

"Don't worry, it's just a facade. They're as venal as everyone else in Balmora," Daria remarked, her tongue outpacing her brain. Instantly she realized her own stupidity, red blooming across her cheeks. "Uh, sorry, can we forget I said that?"

Jolda laughed. "It's okay. The corruption here is pretty galling."

Daria relaxed. This might not be so bad after all.

"I'm Maiko," the officer said, with a curt nod. "Agent of the Imperial Legion."

"He's stationed in Moonmoth Legion Fort," Jolda explained, "attached to the diplomatic corps."

"That last bit's why they sometimes let me out to mingle with the locals. Sure beats another night in the barracks!"

"He's my... escort for the evening, but we've met a few times before," Jolda added, eyes furtively darting back to her parents, who were engaged in discussion with Sedrane.

"Uh, great," Daria said. "So what do you do in Balmora?"

Jolda took on a thoughtful mien. "I keep a relatively busy schedule. In addition to my historical and legal research at Drenlyn Academy, I'm an intern at the East Empire Company and a guest scholar at the Balmora Mage's Guild. When I have time, I go down to Moonmoth and help out at the Imperial Cult chapel."

Daria nodded. "I like to read," she said.

"Me too. What are some of your favorite books?"

"Well, I really liked the works of Zylmoc Golge growing up. Something about entombing people alive just sits right with me." Daria tensed at the last moment, anticipating another faux pas. Golge wasn't a respectable writer. But Jolda just smiled.

"You have an interesting sense of humor," she said. "But yeah, I like Golge, too. 'Chance's Folly' is one of my favorites, even if it is pretty dark."

Still a little anxious, Daria decided to change the subject. "The Dunmer you see next to me is Jane, a skilled artist." Daria took a deep breath. How was this going to work? Jolda didn't seem to like the hypocrisy that was in vogue, and Jane's art was anything but an honest portrayal. "My family hired her to capture our likenesses at dinner. You can, uh, see for yourself."

Daria heard her own words falling flat as she spoke. Dammit, Jane deserved better! And the painting was magnificent on technical terms, especially considering the time constraints. But Jane had already stepped up with her finished canvas, showing it to her new audience.

"That's amazing!" Jolda said, admiring the work.

But did Jolda mean that? Hadn't she just complained about corruption?

Daria's headache got worse and she squeezed her eyes shut. Noise and the distortion of her lenses made for a nasty combination. The three cups of rice wine probably hadn't helped either.

"I've done some work for the Morgendorffers before, along with the Hastiens, Clanlers, and others," Jane continued. "So if you need anyone painted, I'm your gal."

Jolda met Jane's gaze. "My dad's always saying he wants a good artist to paint his portrait, so I'll let him know."

"Please do! I'm at Drenlyn Academy a lot, so just let me know when he's ready."

They talked for a bit longer, Jane leading the conversation as Daria's headache deepened. Maiko didn't talk as much, other than saying that bulky Moonmoth Legion Fort, east of Balmora, was pretty boring.

"Speaking as a soldier, I guess boring is better than the alternative. Besides, Balmora's got its charms and I get sent here more often than most."

Finally, they drifted apart. Daria's head was pounding, as if she'd skipped past inebriation and straight into the hangover. Parties had that effect on her.

"That went well!" Jane said.

"How did it go for you?"

"Maybe she'll tell her dad, maybe she won't. There aren't many guarantees with this sort of thing."

"Was I able to help or not?" Daria asked.

"You helped some. Now I'm better known. And you gave me the best dinner I've had in years."

Daria had forgotten all about the leftovers.

"You still need one more connection," Jane said.

"No," Daria said. "I made two. I'm counting Maiko."

"I'm pretty sure your mom wanted you to make two rich friends," Jane said.

"Sure, Maiko's rich. He's rich in the discipline and spirit of the military that's protected the Empire's hegemonic ambitions for so many centuries. And if mom's bothered by that she can take it up with the emperor."

Daria leaned again the wall. She took off her glasses and rubbed her aching temples with her free hand. This pair definitely wasn't as good as her old one.

"Gee, Daria, are you okay?"

Daria blinked at the tell-tale squeak of Briltasi's voice. She searched the haze of her vision.

"Briltasi's a little to your left, Daria," Jane said.

Grunting, Daria gave up and put her heavy, painful glasses back on, the world lurching back into focus. "Hi, Briltasi. I'm actually not feeling that great."

"Hmm. You could go up to my room and lie down for a while. You're not going to get... sick or anything, are you?"

"No, I think I just need some quiet."

Briltasi reached into her sleeve and took out a metal key, offering it to Daria. "Here. My room's upstairs, first door on the left. Just lock it when you go in. I don't want anyone else going in there."

Daria realized that, whether she'd intended to or not, she had made another connection. Briltasi might not be the brightest, but she was friendly. That counted for a lot in Morrowind.

"Thank you," she said, bowing slightly and then taking the key. "By the way, did you see my friend's art?" Daria asked, pointing at Jane's canvas.

Briltasi blinked. "Why would I look at a menial's—oh wow, that's really pretty!"

A guileless smile brightened Briltasi's face. "Did you just do that tonight?" she asked.

"Sure did!" Jane said, flashing a grateful smile to Daria. "You like Imperial-style art?"

"I really do! My stepmom likes it too, but my dad doesn't."

"Do you and your stepmom have any financial independence?" Jane asked.

"Huh?"

"Would you two be able to pay me if I painted a picture of you?"

"Sure! You even figured out how to make Daria look pretty, so I can't wait to see how you make us look! You should meet my stepmom!" Briltasi said, grabbing Jane by the forearm.

"Have fun," Daria said. Satisfied with having helped her friend, she wove through the crowd to the hallway that led deeper into the manor, the key pressed against her sweaty palm.



*********



"Did Serjo Talori give you permission to be here?" the glowering Dunmer servant demanded.

Still with his partially empty bottle of bug musk, and a new layer of sweat on his skin, Karl the Unctuous made an indignant sniff from his hiding place next to a mostly full clay washtub in a damp storage room.

"I don't think Serjo Talori would care for his menials interfering with the son of a key business partner," Karl said, raising his nose in the air. "Of course, as long as you respect my privacy, I'll keep silent about your little breach of etiquette."

The servant grumbled but walked off, leaving Karl alone. His mind turned back to ingredients and portions and mixtures. None outside of Great House Telvanni knew exactly what went into bug musk—well, other than bugs and musk, but which bugs and whose musk?

He reached into his pocket and took out the ingredients he'd nicked from the kitchen: kreshweed fibers, sweetpulp, and an ash yam.

This probably isn't a good idea, he thought.

But how could he know unless he tried? Maybe he'd improve on the bug musk formula and in so doing make himself one of the wealthiest men in Tamriel!

Standing up, he laid the ingredients and the bug musk next to the tub and prepared to make history.

Musical Outro: All That She Wants, by Ace of Base


Michael "Mack" Mackenzie (Maiko Maccaneus) - Mack was the token "smart jock" in the show, a general all-around decent guy. Football obviously doesn't exist in Morrowind, so I re-imagined him as a promising young legion soldier.

The rice wine references come about because I'm using the First Edition PGE/Project Tamriel as a basis for the rest of the continent. Here, central Cyrodiil is tropical with rice paddies instead of the forested land seen in Oblivion.

This post has been edited by WellTemperedClavier: May 14 2022, 05:15 PM
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SubRosa
post May 14 2022, 07:23 PM
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You really nailed Jeffy, Joey, and that other J guy who are always orbiting Quinn.

Zylmoc Golge sounds like Poe. I wonder if they wrote The Fall of the House of Ushiel?

I loved Daria's quip about Mack being rich in the hegemonic traditions of the Empire! laugh.gif

"Sure! You even figured out how to make Daria look pretty,..."
Now that is exactly the sort of oblivious insult that Brittney and the other popular kids in the TV make all the time.

Upchuck is going to make his own bug musk? Hilarity is bound to ensue with that!


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Renee
post May 15 2022, 01:29 PM
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I love Daria for all her verbal foibles. She's trying to do this yet keeps screwing up.

Maiko speaks exactly like an NPC stationed with the Imperial Legion. laugh.gif It's just like the dialog which returns when we click on Background or My Trade.

Oh man, this is awkward. Yes, the part when she tries to introduce Jane as a painter; it's just the sort of networking moment which really demands the right amount of boasting, without seeming to boast, if that makes any sense?

Poor Daria. I wonder if she's been poisoned.

QUOTE
"By the way, did you see my friend's art?" Daria asked, pointing at Jane's canvas.

Briltasi blinked. "Why would I look at a menial's—oh wow, that's really pretty!"


Oh my gosh. No!



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Acadian
post May 15 2022, 08:38 PM
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Silly boys! Work it, Quinn!

Jolda seems refreshingly open to Daria’s sense of humor and honest opinions. And Maiko seems like a good sort as well.

Briltasi is charming in her own inept way.
"Sure! You even figured out how to make Daria look pretty,’
As SubRosa said, oblivious to the fact that this is an insult to Daria. Actually makes her rather likable.

Jane finally gets some deserved attention for her art.

Daria has scored a couple small wins here, but it looks like it’s taken its toll on her. Hope the rest helps.

Karl. Somehow, methinks this bug musk experiment will not turn out well. . . .


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WellTemperedClavier
post May 18 2022, 05:18 PM
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@ Subrosa Heh, the book they referred to, Chance's Folly, did first appear in Morrowind. Sadly, I don't think Bethesda ever had any other in-game books by him.

The show often let viewers see the titles of the various real books Daria would read. Here, most of the books mentioned in the text are also in-game books (though one exception appears in this chapter).

@ Renee Networking even shows up a bit in Morrowind the game, mostly because of how the faction system works. Hang out with one group long enough, and rival groups might not want much to do with you (this is most notable with the Great Houses, but can pop up among the guilds in at least one case).

@ Acadian Much like Brittany on the show, Briltasi doesn't have a (deliberately) mean bone in her body. But she's also so well off that she doesn't much notice that others might have it worse.

Episode 3: An Invitation

Chapter 6


Jonus had succeeded in the quest to get Quinn some water. Jeval took the lead when it came to finding her the choicest hors d'oeuvres. When she claimed to have lost an earring, it was Julien who found her adornment, or at least an adornment that met her approval.

The three switched between watching each other and watching Quinn. She stood as lovely as a work of art, her smile impish and oh so beckoning.

"So uh, do you want to go out sometime?" Jonus asked. "We can check out the, uh, Fighter's Guild. They have some cool stuff there."

"Quinn's not going to wanna go to the Fighter's Guild!" Julien interrupted. "Hey, Quinn, we can go hang out at the riverside tomorrow. I can buy you some scrib jelly and we can throw stones in the Odai."

"Amateurs," scoffed Jeval. "My mom's making dinner tomorrow. Quinn, you want to join us? Traditional Bosmer cuisine's really good. No vegetables."

"You guys are all so nice," Quinn said.

They looked at each other in a moment of dawning panic, and then back at her.

"Nice?" they cried as one.

"And I really appreciate all the nice things you did. But I just think we're spending too much time together. I mean I've spent almost an hour with you guys, and there are still other cute guys I'd like to meet."

Julien whirled on his feet to face Jonus. "This is your fault, idiot! Fighter's Guild? She probably thinks we're a bunch of meatheads."

"My fault? If you guys hadn't taken your sweet time in getting her snacks and that earring, she'd totally have gone out with one of us!"

"Hey!" Jeval shouted, his reddened face now inches from Jonus's, "I got her that stupid earring right on time!"

"Guys, guys, you don't need to fight over me," Quinn cooed as the confrontation intensified.



*********



A bulbous paper lantern lit the second floor's narrow central hall, hanging from the ceiling like a glowing fruit. Spidery red and black Daedric script marked the paper, promising safety to residents and death to intruders.

Standing in the earthen hall, carrying a lit candlestick taken from the first floor, Daria felt like she was entering a cavern. The lantern's glow barely penetrated the hallway's gloom. Through an open window at the far end she saw the massive watchtowers around High Town, torches burning bright in the distance as the guards within kept their vigil in the darkened town.

Noise from below still emanated through the adobe floor and its thick rugs, adorned with stylized insect images, but Daria already felt better in the second story's comparative quiet. Turning to face the door, she inserted the key in the lock. Darkness and the distortion of her lenses made it impossible to see exactly what she was doing, but she heard a click after a few moments of fumbling.

Briltasi's room was more modest than she'd expected. A small but comfortable bed stretched out beneath a window of foggy glass. A heavy dresser stood at the foot of the bed, while pink willow anthers wilted in a vase by the windowsill. Western style tapestries of bounding deer and interlocking flowers hung over the rough walls. Next to the door squatted a stone triolith much like the one in Jane's apartment, showing Morrowind's Tribunal in all their stark and angular glory.

A book lay on the mattress and Daria lowered the candle for a closer look. The Romance of Sir Aethelred of Wayrest, and His Love the Lady Dufont of Daggerfall, and the Lamentable War Between the Western Kings. A classic within the fine Breton genre of trashy chivalric romances. Apparently Briltasi was the mushy type.

Walls suddenly shook and Daria jumped out of the bed. Earthquake? Something scuffled outside, just loud enough to be heard over the buzzing conversation beneath her feet. Daria lifted the heavy candlestick, tired eyes straining to see in the darkness.

Someone knocked on the glass.



*********



Karl the Unctuous held his breath. It was do or die.

The bug musk and his desperate last-ditch ingredients were lined up along the washtub. He put the kresh fibers in the bottle first, followed by the lichen and then some chunks of ash yam. Deciding to mix, he picked up the bottle and shook it around. The smell changed, slightly.

Then the bottle slipped from his hand and splashed into the tub. The placid surface erupted into a bright green foam as the diluted bug musk mixed with the water, which bubbled violently and spilled over the rim.

Hands in pockets, Karl made a quick exit as the hissing sound grew louder.



*********



The knock at the window came again. Cammona Tong? No, they wouldn't knock. They'd just kill.

"Uh, a little help?" came a voice from outside, unmistakably Dunmer but higher pitched than usual.

It didn't seem likely that an intruder would ask for help. So whoever was knocking probably thought he was supposed to be there.

Daria walked to the window, the glass too opaque to see through. She opened the one moving pane and stuck her head outside.

To her left was a young Dunmer man about her age, too skinny for his bulky bonemold armor. He'd placed a rickety and slightly too short ladder against the Talori manor's wall. He too leaned against the wall, his feet balanced on the ladder's top rung.

"Who the hell are you?" Daria demanded.

His face contorted in confusion.

"Uh, who the hell are you? Where's Briltasi, outlander?"

"I may be an outlander but you're the one trying to sneak in like a second story man. You answer first," Daria insisted.

"Oh, well I'm Kavon!" he said, taking one hand off the wall to point to himself with his thumb. His face registered the mistake a moment later, arms pinwheeling as he tried to keep his balance. Daria froze—no way could she stop him from falling.

Luckily, he managed to crash back into the wall.

"Whew! Anyway, Where's Briltasi?" he asked.

"Why should I tell you?"

"I answered your question, outlander!" he said. "So you gotta answer mine!"

"Like I said, you're the one who looks like a thief. Which means I ask the questions."

"I'm no thief! I'm a Hlaalu soldier. You know. Kavon Thanlen. I'm a pretty big deal around here."

Strange as the situation was, Daria did not feel threatened.

"A pretty big deal, huh? Which is why you're trying to sneak through a window on the second floor instead of joining the big party on the first."

"Aw, man! Look, Serjo Talori... well, I don't think he likes me because I'm not highborn. But Briltasi does like me, so, you know..."

Daria had somehow stumbled onto a lovers' rendezvous.

"I'll let her know you're here. Stay there on that ladder."

"Hurry up! It's hard to balance in this armor!"

Daria took the candle and walked down the stairs. The party seemed like it had gotten louder, harsh shouts mixing in with the regular chatter.

She reached the first floor just as a stinking mass of frothy green liquid spilled out from under a closed door and flowed into the feast hall. Shrieks erupted as a noxious odor, like soiled peppers, clogged every nostril.

Daria made a face at the smell.

Sedrane bellowed in rage as the foamy liquid spread across the stone floor. Quinn's three suitors grappled with each other in the liquid while Quinn shrieked about her ruined shoes.

Spotting Jane near the refreshments, Daria rushed over.

"Why do I always miss the good stuff? What happened?" Daria asked.

"Beats me! Those three idiots got into a fight and then suddenly... bubbly green slime everywhere! I kind of like the artistic boldness of it all." Jane made a face. "Though I could do without the stink."

"Oh no!" Briltasi wailed, nearby. "The party's ruined."

"By the way, Kavon's at the window to your room," Daria said.

"What? He has the worst timing!" she complained as she ran down the hall.

"Kavon?" Jane asked.

"Briltasi's secret friend," Daria said, as she watched Sedrane spew invective at every outlander who'd ever stepped foot on Morrowind.



*********



"Is that normal for parties here?" dad wondered as they walked down the darkened streets. He'd helped himself to a torch. The Commercial District was safe enough, but no point in taking chances.

"Dunmer celebrations can get pretty weird, but green slime that smells like bad cologne is weird even by our standards," Jane said.

"I just got these shoes and now they stink of whatever that awful stuff was! Oh, I should've stayed home!" Quinn lamented.

Daria enjoyed the cool night air, a welcome relief after the noxious party.

"Jane, would you like to stay with us for the night?" mom asked. "I'd rather not have you walking through Labor Town alone."

"That'd be great, Mrs. Morgendorffer."

"Splendid! You can join us for breakfast, too. And how did the party go for you, Daria? I trust it was productive?"

"I took a break in my busy schedule of alienating people to make a few new friends. Jolda, Maiko, and maybe Briltasi. And maybe Kavon."

Silence for a moment.

"Well, I'm proud of you," mom said. "That's a good start."

"I was hoping this would be a good finish. But thanks."



The End

Musical Outro - "All Mixed Up" by 311

To be continued in Episode 4: The South Wall Cornerclub (single-chapter)

Kevin Thompson (Kavon Thanlon) - Lawndale High's preeminent jock is now a lowly city guard since Morrowind doesn't have football. Like Briltasi, Kavon's nice almost to a fault. Unfortunately, he's dumb. Really, really dumb.

Bonemold Armor - For those curious, bonemold armor is the default armor of Dunmer guards throughout Morrowind. It's perfectly adequate as medium armor, and is mostly notable for its weird appearance.

This post has been edited by WellTemperedClavier: May 18 2022, 05:29 PM
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SubRosa
post May 18 2022, 08:23 PM
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Kavon could be some form of athlete. Ancient Greece practically deified their Olympic athletes. Actually, not practically, they did. Even wars were sort of put on hold, and even people from enemy nations were allowed safe passage to attend the games.

Bethesda simply never bothered going into what sports people play in any of their games. But you could make something up. Or for that matter, Kavon could be a gladiator. They do have those in Morrowind, though granted that is in Vivec City in the Arena district. But Kavon could be a gladiator in training.

And the Three Stooges are fighting over Quinn. How terrible. I am sure she is just completely broken up over it. wink.gif

So it was UpKarl that caused the washing machine to boil over and cover the house with laundry detergent I mean, his experiment with creating Bug Musk that did that. Perfect!


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Acadian
post May 18 2022, 08:56 PM
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Dunmer parties may be many things, but it seems boring is not one of them!

What a futile hoot as the Three Amigos stumble over themselves trying to woo Quinn.

Daria’s chance to rest bit is not in the cards. Looks like Kavon picked a bad night for a tryst.

Karl’s cologne mercifully gave Daria the chance to escape the party. Trashing Quinn’s shoes was just a bonus. whistling.gif

The only way to top this event would have been with a Sanguine ‘remove all clothing’ spell. . . oops, wrong game. wink.gif


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WellTemperedClavier
post May 21 2022, 04:40 PM
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@ Subrosa - Okay, I'm not going to be able to get anything past you, am I? biggrin.gif Yeah, I took the ending from "Groped by an Angel" rather than "The Invitation".

And that's a good point about Kavon! Now I'm kind of wishing I'd written him as an arena fighter trainee. There's no arena in Balmora, but there's one in Vivec which is pretty close. One of the later stories does involve a short-lived arena popping up in Balmora, but more about that when we get to it.

@ Acadian - Daedric involvement always makes things more memorable.

Musical Intro - Lips Like Sugar, by Echo and the Bunnymen

Episode 4: The South Wall Cornerclub

"Just watch your pockets," Jane warned. "There are a lot of greedy hands here."

Daria's right hand closed around the ten-septim piece in her lower coat pocket as Jane ushered her through the doorway of the South Wall Cornerclub. The smoke hit her before anything else, a dozen times worse than the smoggy evening outside, stuffed into a single adobe building, and strong enough to make her eyes water to the point of blindness. With that came the acrid stink of alcohol and other, less pleasant smells.

"You know, the only reason I agreed to go to this place with you is because my mom would be furious if she found out," Daria said, taking off her glasses to clear her teary eyes. "And she better not find out."

"Hey, I'm about to show you the real Balmora. Not the picture-book fantasy of Talori manor and Drenlyn Academy."

"And if I get knifed in a dark alley during this visit to the real Balmora?"

"Consider it another experience you can add to your resume. Aren't savants supposed to be worldly?"

"I try to become worldly by reading a lot," Daria said. "It's safer. More importantly, I don't have to work hard."

"Come on, let's go."

Jane waited just long enough for Daria to put her glasses back on before taking her hand and leading her through a dark and surprisingly twisty adobe corridor. Specks of candlelight revealed limp and torn tapestries hanging on the walls, their images long since blotted out by too many carelessly held drinks.

A red-and-white Khajiit woman leaned in the shadows of a corner, her golden eyes the brightest things in the hallway. Her tail twitched as Jane neared.

"Ah, Dunmer is here to see her brother play," she said, her words running together in a throaty purr.

"And I brought a friend this time," Jane said.

"Then Khajiit will be friendly to friend," the woman promised, gesturing down the bend in the hallway to a staircase leading down.

"What was that all about?" Daria asked, as she carefully navigated the uneven steps, the smoke getting thicker the deeper she went.

"Oh, that was Sugar-Lips-Habasi. She practically runs the joint, so I stay on her good side."

"I'm not sure it's a good idea to have a staircase right outside the drinking parlor," Daria said.

"Sure it is!" Jane said. "The rest of us get to take bets on which of the drunks will stumble and fall!"

Daria's foot dropped a bit further than she expected, the jolt sharp but momentary. "I'm getting the feeling it's pretty easy to stumble down this while sober."

"Sobriety's not something you'll have to worry about tonight, my friend."

Glass lanterns burned blue and dreamlike in the parlor's smoky haze, the foul air quivering with dozens of voices: Dunmer rasps, Argonian hisses, and the more familiar enunciations of human tongues mingled together in a lively babble. The mix of peoples made her think of the Lucky Lockup, but the rough-spun clothes of the patrons and the air of familiarity told her that the South Wall was a place for locals, not for travelers.

She supposed she counted as a local of some sort.

Jane guided Daria through the densely packed little room, seating her at a wooden table that probably had dozens of splinters poking out the surface.

Daria blinked again, light-headed and wondering if she was going to pass out. Dunmer buildings tended to be poorly ventilated, the race's throats and lungs already hardened by living in Tamriel's most volcanic region. Sure made things tough for non-Dunmer, though.

"Is your brother here yet?" Daria asked, speaking louder to make herself heard.

"Don't see him," Jane said. "He'll show up sooner or later. Probably later."

"What kind of music is he going to play?"

Jane shrugged. "With a crowd like this he's mostly just playing to make noise. Trust me, it suits him well."

The parlor was still uncomfortably dark, but Daria could at least make out the interior. Pretty standard set up: tables and benches, a publican's bar, and big clay bottles of alcohol. Dried up bittergreen vines hung from one corner, serving as both decor and a fire hazard.

Daria took the two pewter cups she'd brought from home and set them on the table. Jane had warned her that nothing in the South Wall was particularly clean, so she chose to bring her own drinking vessels. A Dunmer serving woman came by with a large jug, tilting it to pour some frothy mazte into the cups.

"I'll keep track of the tab," Jane offered.

As she spoke, a tall and thin Dunmer made space for himself at the corner framed by dehydrated plant-life. His hands, oddly delicate, held a worn Imperial-style lute.

"I'm Trent Llayn," he said, his tone almost bored. "And this is a song I call 'Fire-Eyed Woman'."

He raised his hand to cover a cough, and then let it fall to the strings. Daria watched, fascinated by the ease at which he performed, the dark and smoky room probably nothing to someone like him who'd traveled the length and breadth of Morrowind's Vvardenfell District, turning its ash-choked foyadas and jagged coasts into poetry...

Daria blinked again. The smoke must be getting to her. She took a sip of her mazte, which she knew would probably only make it worse.

Fingers stormed across the strings, the lute erupting into tune both angry and mournful. He played loud to be heard, not willing to let the mob shout him down. Daria leaned forward to get a better look, taking in his tousled black hair and seen-the-world red eyes.

"You singed me at the park, when I asked you for a dance,
You burned me when I wept, didn't care about my stance.
You're a fire-eyed woman as sweet as the moon.
But darling, oh darling, you'll doom me soon."

He snarled the lyrics with feeling ripped from his heart. The song was worlds away from the lugubrious bardic ballads and jaunty drinking songs she'd heard back on Stirk. Trent didn't recite the tales of others; instead, he turned his pain into song. A song with somewhat questionable lyrical construction, she admitted. But she loved the directness.

He said what he thought, just the way she wanted to.

No one in the crowd listened.

Daria watched transfixed until he finished his first song. A tap on her back got her attention and she turned around.

"You sure seem pretty interested in music all of a sudden," Jane said. "I tried to talk to you three times during that song."

"Oh, sorry. I'm just intrigued by the kind of music he plays. Is this the normal style in Balmora?"

"Normal here means temple hymns or war songs celebrating the horrible things we Dunmer did to our neighbors a few centuries ago. Trent can play those, but he likes to follow his own muse and South Wall's one of the only places that let him get away with it."

Daria's gaze had already turned back to Trent.



*********



Balmora roasted under the stars, hotter than a summer night in Stirk even though it was only mid-spring. Red Mountain's caldera glowed sooty on the northern horizon as it puffed volcanic toxins into the air and into the nostrils of everyone downwind.

Daria leaned back against the balcony walls around Jane's apartment, dizzy and sweaty and content for the first time she could remember. The darkened city seemed to spin merrily around her, its torches and lit windows like a sparkling kaleidoscope.

She, Jane, and Trent sat around a lantern, its brightness hemmed in by the smoky night. Jane was next to Daria, her eyes to the dark sky and with her hands clasped behind her neck. Trent rested on the other side, long legs sprawled out on the floor while he fiddled with a three-stringed instrument made from an insect carapace. He'd just taken it out from storage.

"What is that?" Daria asked, still letting the world spin around her.

"It's an Ashlander harp," Trent said. "Really old school. Not everyone likes it, but I think it has a richer sound."

"Ashlanders," Daria repeated, letting her thoughts settle. "Nomadic Dunmer, uh, pastors, I mean pastoralists who herd bugs. Big bugs. Transhumance."

"Hey, yeah. You're pretty smart!" Trent said.

"Uh, thanks," Daria said, wondering if her blush could be seen through her red-cheeked inebriation. "Have you spent a lot of time with the Ashlanders?" she asked, suddenly wanting to hear about Trent braving the toxic Ashlands and smoldering Molag Amur, needing only his poetry to keep darkness at bay.

"Heh, nah," Trent said. "I picked this up at a pawnshop in Ald'ruhn. Don't really know how to play it but it's fun to mess with sometimes."

"Oh. Well at least you're honest about it."

"I'm all about keeping it real."

Daria tried to get herself together. "Some philosophers say that it's better to be honest than to deal with the double-speakings of the rich and powerful. So in that way I think you're really philosophical."

She blinked. That wasn't quite what she'd wanted to say.

Jane clucked. "Hmm, I think you need some water, Daria. Luckily I still have some leftovers from the well this morning." She stood up and entered her apartment.

"How long will you be in Balmora?" Daria asked, turning back to Trent.

"A month. Maybe two. I like to keep it loose."

"You must have traveled a lot."

He shrugged. "I'm pretty local. Can't afford to go much farther than that."

"Is it dangerous to travel?"

"Can be. Got robbed a couple of times. Had to fight off a pack of nix-hounds another. I usually travel with a troupe these days. We're called Mystik Spiral, but we're thinking about changing the name."

"Where did you get that name?"

"I liked the spiral, 'cause it shows how everything comes back on itself, so you gotta go back to the source to get to what's real."

Daria tried to figure out what that meant. Somehow, even in her state, she was pretty sure it meant nothing.

Trent continued. "And mystic because mysticism is the best form of magic. Fireballs and lightning and stuff."

"Uh, actually," Daria corrected, "you're thinking of destruction. Mysticism is the use of magic to manipulate spiritual forces."

Trent nodded. "Right, what you said."

Jane came back with a jug of water.

"Now can you actually hold this and drink it, or should I pour it down your throat?" Jane asked.

"I'm fine!" Daria exclaimed, reaching out to grab the jug and missing it by a mile.

"Uh huh. I'll just put it down on the ground until you're ready to pick it up."

"You're a jerk sometimes. But thanks," she mumbled. Waiting a bit, she took the jug by the handle and lifted it up, drinking deep. The bitter ashen water cooled her dried lips and seemed to restore some clarity to her mind.

Trent started playing the Ashlander harp, his fingers more careful than they'd been with the lute, plucking each string as they danced up and down the neck. The tone, deep and mournful, somehow sounded a million miles away. She felt the music more than she heard it, the sound a quivering in the smoky air.

"I like the sound," Daria said. "But it's a little hard to hear."

"It is? Seems normal to me. Janey?"

"I can hear it fine. Wait, human ears might not be able to pick up the sound of an Ashlander instrument."

Trent stopped and looked up, his expression cool. "Sorry. Should I get the lute, instead?"

"No, it's fine," Daria said. "I still enjoy it."

"Let me tune this a bit more," Trent said, tightening the pegs at the top. He strummed the harp again, the sound clear. "Better?"

"Much. Uh, thanks."

Trent continued playing, his tune meandering between major and minor, slow and fast. No words that time. Probably for the best, Daria thought, even as she lost herself in the music.

They stayed out a while longer as the drink left Daria's head and the lantern dimmed. She tensed up for a moment, wondering what stupid things she'd said to Jane or Trent back at South Wall. But seeing them there, insouciant and relaxed, she realized it didn't matter.

As she sat there in the smoggy night, in the middle of a foreign world, listening to an instrument never intended for human ears, she realized Morrowind no longer seemed so bad.



The End

To be continued in Episode 5: The Guilded Age...

Trent Lane (Trent Llayn) - Jane's older brother, Trent, is the grungy, laid-back magician that set many hearts a-flutter back in the '90s, and Daria herself is no exception. I will say this version of Trent plays a much smaller role than he does on the show, but he's still around with his band...

Mystik Spiral - Trent's band! And they're adequate. The music's fine enough for what it is, but marred by some of Trent's questionable lyrical choices. Examples below:

Ow, My Face!

Icebox Woman

Mr. Normal

Sugar-Lips Habasi - Very few Morrowind NPCs actually show up in this series, but she's one of them. As the link shows, she's actually really high up in the Balmora Thieves Guild.

The South Wall Cornerclub - This cornerclub is actually the base of the Thieves Guild, but also serves its role as a kind of sketchy cornerclub. It's a stand-in for...

The Zon - The grunge/alternative club in Daria's Lawndale.

This post has been edited by WellTemperedClavier: May 21 2022, 04:48 PM
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SubRosa
post May 21 2022, 09:11 PM
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I love Daria's observation about reading being less work than experiencing things first hand! laugh.gif

Trent is singing. Oh boy, here comes some of that poetry...

Aaaaand there goes Daria's heart, all pitter patter for the musician. smile.gif I did like how it is not just youthful hormones, but the raw passion and forthrightness of Trent's performance that draws her in. Like every good punk band, what Trent lacks in polish, he more than makes up for with emotion.

You really nailed Trent, from keeping it loose, to thinking of changing the name of the Spiral. He was always one of my favorite characters in the show.


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Renee
post May 22 2022, 11:54 AM
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Wow. So okay, I know it's just a paper lamp. But the way you go into describing it in the second part of this week's chapter... blink.gif It's just that I've often looked at those colorful lamps, but not really put into words how incredible they are. Uh oh.

Daria's in a cavern-like hallway??? Yikes. Let me shush for a few...

Uh oh.

QUOTE

The knock at the window came again. Cammona Tong? No, they wouldn't knock. They'd just kill


This made me laugh & intrigued at the same time. Hey, seems like Daria's headache is gone, or diminished. But she really does keep getting into all these oddly-adventurous moments. Other peoples' messes, and so on. And it's funny to me because Balmora (in fact, the entire base game) is so devoid of humor. Yet I keep giggling as I read this story here and there.

"I took a break in my busy schedule of alienating people to make a few new friends. "

laugh.gif

311 is great. Amber's my favorite.

Oh gosh. She just met Sugar-Lips. This is intriguing. Uh oh... don't drink the matze.

Trent speaks exactly like a Gen-Xer. Ya know, sort of vague. Like, I just hang here, man. Don't need to go too far... got my money, got my friends... got my lute. I'm good like that.

Ow! My face! laugh.gif

This post has been edited by Renee: May 22 2022, 11:58 AM


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Acadian
post May 22 2022, 08:46 PM
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"With a crowd like this he's mostly just playing to make noise.”
- - I remember a conversation with SubRosa (I think it was SubRosa) about heavy metal bands and her remarking, “If you can’t be good, be loud.” I think Jane’s right though; in a little drinking bar like this, the crowd is probably looking mostly for background noise.

’Dried up bittergreen vines hung from one corner, serving as both decor and a fire hazard.’ laugh.gif

And it seems Daria be rather smitten by Jane’s musical brother. Nice to see her relaxing some, and even beginning to like Morrowind a little more. smile.gif


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WellTemperedClavier
post May 25 2022, 05:08 PM
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@ Subrosa - Thanks! Daria's crush on Trent was a pretty big part of the show. It's actually not that major a part of this series, but I'd be amiss if I didn't at least acknowledge it.

I find that when someone falls for another person, it's not usually just looks. Yes, the presentation matters. However, there's often some other element that really triggers the attraction.

@ Renee - Aw, thanks. I really love the general vibe of Morrowind, so I try to do the best I can in translating the visuals to text. And it's good that you're giggling! This is supposed to be a comedy after all. Maybe it's more accurately called a dramedy (especially as it goes on). I don't really like the word 'dramedy' that much, but it does fit pretty well, I think.

@ Acadian - Much like the game itself, Morrowind takes a little while to get used to. But Daria's finding that there's a lot to enjoy if she can put up with some of the BS that comes with it.

Musical Intro - Singing In My Sleep, by Supersonic

Episode 5: The Guilded Age

Chapter 1


Someone had tied a big slate to the sinuous beige stem of the academy's emperor parasol. Bold white letters on the slate proclaimed the following:



All Honored Students of Drenlyn Academy:

I am pleased to announce that many of the most esteemed families and notable institutions within Balmora are opening their doors to Drenlyn students this month. You are being presented with a fantastic opportunity to apply the skills you have learned within these walls, and to make valuable connections which will serve you (and the academy) well in the future.

I urge you all to take this chance to bring honor, and glory, to Drenlyn Academy, Great House Hlaalu, and the Empire that we all serve.

Application is voluntary but failure to apply will certainly harm your reputation.

- Magistrate Lli




Beneath that was a long list of families, guilds, and companies eager for fresh young minds to exploit. Standing next to Jane, Daria didn't do more than skim her options.

"If my reputation wasn't already as low as it could be, that last bit might actually sound like a threat," Daria said.

"Come on, Daria, this is a great chance for you to alienate new people."

"That still sounds like too much effort."

Jane stepped forward to get a better look at her options. "Not much here for me."

"You don't think you could wheedle a commission out of any of them?"

"Oh, I know I could. But look at this—the EEC wants a clerk, the Sloan family wants a scribe, the Shulk Egg Mine wants an egg miner. Wouldn't have much time to do commissions if I was doing any of those jobs."

"I'm sure that transcribing endless lists of assets for the Sloan family would be a rich source of artistic inspiration," Daria said.

"I think the only thing rich in that equation is them. Anyway, I have a professional excuse to not participate and I'm not even sure Magistrate Lli knows I attend this place."

Considering that Jane rarely left Defoe's workshop, she might have a point.

Daria smiled. "As for me, I look forward to seeing just how low my reputation can go."

The two went their separate ways that afternoon, Jane headed off to a client and Daria happy to go home. She dawdled at the river market for a bit and watched a burly Dunmer netchiman use a rope to pull his airborne beast above the crowd, its wiggling leathery tentacles colliding with the heads of annoyed passersby. She followed the netchiman from a healthy distance until one of the bull netch's tendrils hit the shoulder of a silk-robed Altmer and knocked him into the Odai's muddy waters. The resulting shouting match was a pretty good one by local standards.

Once home, Daria retreated up to the room she shared with Quinn (her sister mercifully still about town) and took a seat by the window with her copy of Jarth's The Argonian Account. As the setting sun's rays reddened Balmora's flat roofs and narrow alleys, she lost herself in the text's descriptions of Black Marsh's tangled jungles and the way the native Argonians got from place to place by traversing the spacious digestive tracts of miles-long worms.

Daria almost didn't notice when it got too dark, the black ink on the page becoming part and parcel of the shadows around it. She closed her eyes and massaged them through the lids. Time to get a candle.

"Daria!" dad called from below. "Dinner's ready! I made some ash yams!"

Great. More of dad's questionable cooking. And right when the story was getting interesting. Resigned, she put the book on her bed and walked down to dinner.

"One of my associates said ash yams make for great brain food," dad said down below, as he gave each family member one of the spiky tubers. "Perfect to make my already brilliant daughters even smarter. I cooked it with some—"

Quinn scooted closer to the table, her chair's legs scraping against the flagstones. "So the academy's having this big volunteer thing where you can make connections and stuff. I thought it sounded pretty boring but then I found out that this big cloth importer was looking for someone. I'm sure she'll appreciate my fashion advice."

"I'm proud of you, Quinn!" mom said. "That shows a lot of initiative." Her eyes swiveled to Daria. "And what have you volunteered for?"

"I've volunteered my time for solitary self-cultivation," Daria said. Steam from the ash yam fogged her glasses and she took them off, blinking in the dim candle-lit kitchen.

Mom made a disappointed sound halfway between a sigh and a groan. "Daria, you need to be more outgoing. How do you intend to be a savant if you have so few social connections? You can't get by in that field just by knowing a lot of trivia!"

Without her glasses her family became little more than vocal blurs sitting around the table. Steam still wafted in her eyes, thick with the yam's bittersweet aroma.

"I'll just find some noble who's as anti-social as I am. Not like there's a shortage of weird aristocratic recluses."

Without even being able to see her mother's face, Daria immediately knew she'd said the wrong thing. Mom's slow exhalation confirmed it.

"Daria, we aren't in Cyrodiil anymore. This is not a friendly place for people like us."

"I think it's friendly! I've made lots of friends here!" Quinn interjected.

"Doesn't anyone want to try my yams?" dad asked.

"Oh?" Daria decided to push back. "If it's so unfriendly here then why didn't we just stay back home? That way we wouldn't have to work double-time just to be accepted."

"You weren't accepted back home, either! Just what is your long-term plan, Daria? Sit around the house reading for the rest of your life? Do you know how much we have to pay the Hlaalu Council Company to live here? What do you intend to do when we die? Hope some rich Dunmer will marry you?"

Quinn laughed. "Good luck with that! I'll be the one who marries a handsome Dunmer aristocrat with a big country house out in the Ascadian Isles. Maybe if he has a nice brother or something I'll introduce you."

"The yams are getting cold!" dad fretted.

"Quiet, both of you!" mom ordered. "Daria, you will find something to volunteer for tomorrow and I expect you to make the most of it. That's final!"

Daria gulped. How the hell was she supposed to network in a place like this? It was worse than back home. She recalled the crunch of her old glasses breaking beneath Synda's foot, the pain of the clubs hitting her back...

Sitting in her room reading might not be a good long-term solution but it worked for the short term.

Daria slipped her glasses back on. Mom's face was red. Quinn watched, waiting for one or the other to make the first move. Dad stared at his yams, brow knitted in worry.

"What were some of the volunteer options?" mom asked, her voice level again.

"Daria should try the Mages Guild," Quinn said. "All those guys do is read books in dark rooms. She'll fit right in."

"I think that's an excellent idea, Quinn. And Daria, the intellectual atmosphere might make it easier for you to find like-minded friends."

"I barely even know magic!" Daria protested. "Don't I get a say in this?"

"Volunteers aren't expected to know much."

Daria crossed her arms. "And I don't suppose the fact that you've represented the Mages Guild a few times has anything to do with this?"

Mom met her gaze. "Why yes, as a matter of fact, it does. The Mages Guild is an Empire-wide institution that offers countless opportunities. And if, while volunteering there, you find out they need legal advice then please tell me. That way I can get more work with them which is something that would benefit everyone at this table. Daria, see what you can do there. You might even have some fun!" Her voice turned unnaturally sweet at the last few words.

"If no one else is going to try these yams I've been cooking since afternoon then I guess it's up to me to take the first bite!" dad fumed.

He grabbed the yam off his plate and ripped off a big chunk with his teeth. He chewed, jaws working and neck strained, staring at the family as if daring anyone to interrupt.

Dad's eyes suddenly went wide. He spat it out onto the plate to the sound of Quinn's disgusted cry. Then he threw the rest of the yam with enough force to send it sailing across mom's office and through the window into the street beyond.
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Acadian
post May 25 2022, 08:31 PM
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"Come on, Daria, this is a great chance for you to alienate new people."
Well put, Jane! tongue.gif

A wonderfully done family dinner scene. Regarding the academy’s networking event, it rather sounds like an opportunity for nobles to get some free labor for a time. Quinn seems a natural at this networking/schmoozing stuff, though I wonder if her visions of being solicited for fashion advice will translate into the work of carrying and stacking bolts of cloth and such. Daria remains convinced that any such volunteer attempts on her own part will lead her to more problems. Mother really does seem to have the best interest of her daughters and family in mind with her manipulations and makes a rather convincing case for Daria to consider the Mages Guild. Meanwhile, Dad wisely knows how to stay out of arguments amongst womenfolk – probably from lots of practice. Finally, despite the superb build up, the poor ash yams end up as a ‘Fail’.


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SubRosa
post May 26 2022, 10:13 PM
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"Application is voluntary, and all of you have been pre-registered to attend so that I receive the 100% attendance bonus payment."

- Magistrate Lli


Fixed that for you... wink.gif

Great, Internships! Lets get some free labor from college students. Capitalism, Capitalism never changes...

I love the little slice of Morrowind life, with the netch-wrangler and unintendedly aquatic Altmer.

Not like there's a shortage of weird aristocratic recluses
Now where do I apply for that job? It's right up there with Scoundrel in my dream careers.

Yep, that went the way a typical Morgendorferr dinner usually goes! Mom volunteers Daria for some chore, Quinn is self-absorbed, and Dad is completely oblivious to it all.

Wow, the Mages Guild! Quinn sometimes stumbles on a good idea, even if for all the wrong ideas. I have been wondering when Daria would start doing magic stuff. It seems right up her alley.


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