Sleeper in the Cave, a Morrowind fanfic Options

[Kazaera]

@haute ecole rider - I am very glad I wasn't drinking anything when I read your comment! Plan B indeed.

Last installment, Adryn watched a looter camp wake up and developed a plan for how to get herself out of said camp. Even she thought it was a bad plan, which is probably a worrying sign.

Chapter 14.2
*****

There was a great deal of muttering among the looters. No one was particularly happy about being dragged out of a sound sleep at the crack of dawn to search for an item their leader should (or so the whispers went) really have kept a better eye on. Especially considering there were no hangover potions to be found.

The grumbling was broken by the sound of glass breaking, followed by billows of smoke.

"What the-"

"Is that the fire?"

As the looters milled in confusion I stepped forward, letting my illusion snap into place as I did.

"Wait a moment there. Who in Oblivion are you?"

The downside of my smoke bombs was that they didn't last particularly long. Pity, really – if they had, I might have been able to make it up to the ledge unseen and avoid all this rigmarole. As it was, the smoke was dissipating only seconds after the bottles had broken, and Crito had seen me.

I squelched the urge to back away from the man. The looters were disoriented and confused by the smoke and my sudden appearance, but any sign of fear and they'd be on me like a pack of wolves. I had to keep them off-balance, not thinking of attacking.

Instead, I sneered as I fixed my mind on the sounds of Ervesa's voice. My own Skyrim accent would be rather out of place for the figure I was trying to portray. Thankfully, I'd always been good at voices.

"As if a peasant like you deserves to know the name of a member of Great House Telvanni." It came out sounding credibly Morrowindish, I thought as I waved a hand in dismissal. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught the sparkle of jewels.

My illusion spells weren't strong enough to make me look completely different, unfortunately. Being able to appear as, say, a man, would have been quite handy in terms of throwing off pursuit. Instead, I had to use my current appearance as a basis. Still, I hoped that I was still pretty much unrecognisable right now. My hair should look neater and darker, more brown than red, my face more angular and bearing the first lines of advancing age, and as for my garb-

Well, I didn't know what constituted typical dress for a Telvanni, so I'd gone for the old mage standby. I'd pulled on the robe I'd used to cushion my potions, then let the illusions spruce it up with lots and lots of shiny things.

"T-telvanni?"

Crito's advance stopped, and his hand left his sword. He looked pale, sick, afraid but trying to hide it. In short: thoroughly taken in.

(I had to admit to a moment of disbelief that this was working.)

"Of course." I scoffed. "Did you really think you could keep such a find hidden from us? As if you magicless peons deserve to lay hands on a treasure like the puzzle cube." I lifted said object in front of me, concentrating on the illusion. Light reflected off the cube as if it glowed...

...and, while all eyes were hopefully on the Dwemer artifact, I gulped down the potion I'd surreptitiously brought to my mouth. I'd never quite understood his antipathy towards magic, but I had to admit the sleight-of-hand Charon had preferred instead was coming in really handy right now.

For an awful moment, I thought it hadn't worked, then I felt my feet leave the ground and my body start to rise.

Slowly.

Seriously, when Ajira had said 'levitation' I'd expected something a little more dramatic. I felt like I was moving at the speed of a drunk bumblebee.

"Thief!" Crito yelled. Well, there was an unforeseen benefit: my rise was slow enough that Crito hadn't noticed.

Now, to keep him distracted and not attacking-

"Me, steal?" I cast around wildly for things an extremely snobbish mage might say. "How dare you accuse me of such a pedestrian crime. I am merely bringing the cube to its rightful owners, the only ones who can be trusted with it. Away from the clutches of thieving outlanders." Throwing that appellation at someone else felt perversely good. "Now, stand back or I can take no responsibility for what will happen to you."

With a moment's thought, I gauged my magicka pool. It was already rather depleted despite the replenishing potion I'd drunk before starting my plan, and what I wouldn't give to have been born under the Mage or Apprentice right now. There was still a respectable amount left, though. Definitely enough to kindle fire in my empty hand.

The Firebite spell was, of course, completely useless in this situation, but that was true for all of my spells. More to the point, it looked impressive. Indeed, one of the bandits who'd been inching closer moved back at the sight of the flames filling my palm.

Crito bared his teeth in frustration. His eyes darted to the side. "Will someone wake Lalaine already?" he hissed. "We've got an enemy mage in the camp, this is her job to deal with-"

"Sorry, boss, she's sleeping like the dead."

Thank Shor for that mage's love of alcohol, indeed. The last thing I wanted right now was someone trained in magic taking a close look at what I was doing.

"Uh, boss? I think the Telvanni's getting away."

The changing light from my special effects had managed to hide it for longer than I'd hoped. All the same, the fact that I was suddenly taller than Crito was hard to ignore, and the purple glow that limned my feet made it rather obvious what was happening.

"What?" Crito snarled, and his hand went back to his sword.

I needed to get out of hitting range right now-

My lazy movement upwards accelerated with a sudden jerk. Oh, so it was a willpower-guided spell, and Ajira's recipe preserved that connection. That would have been very handy to have known five minutes ago.

"Talos damn it." Crito stopped his advance as I ascended, apparently judging that I was too far in the air to stop. Then he smiled. I followed his gaze and just barely kept my face smooth when I saw the Nord with an arrow nocked to his bow.

Talos damn it indeed, I hadn't considered archery. I didn't particularly want to become a pincushion, but I didn't have any protection against arrows-

Which the looters didn't know. From their perspective, I was an all-powerful Telvanni wizard. And although I didn't have any spell that could protect me from arrows... I did have one that looked as though it could.

With a thought, I cast my Rainshield spell. My magicka was beginning to veer into dangerously low territory, but I didn't have much of a choice. As the glowing purple nimbus surrounded me, I forced a smile.

"Yes, by all means, shoot at me." No, really, please don't. "I enjoy seeing arrows bounce off my impenetrable guard." The 'impenetrable guard' meant to keep off rain. It would pop like a soap bubble if it got hit by a particularly large pebble – arrows would go through it like it wasn't even there. "It amuses me to watch the futile struggles of non-mages." Amused was the last thing I'd be if one of them shot me.

For a moment I wasn't sure if my bluff had worked, then the Nord lowered the bow with a scowl. "Damn cheating wizards-"

Well, he had one thing right. I was definitely not playing fair right now.

And with that thought, I found myself hovering over the ledge. An instant later, the potion wore off and I dropped lightly to the ground. I couldn't have timed it better myself.

The smile that spread over my face was, for once, entirely genuine. I'd made it. I'd made it, and the looters were still staring at me slack-jawed-

"Thank you for your hospitality," I sang. After a moment of consideration, I threw my last smoke bomb down at the sea of gaping faces, then turned and ran for it.

Outside, I was greeted by a beautifully clear autumn day, the sun warming my robes. My smile shrank.

True, the Nord guard was still slumped in sleep, which was probably more luck than I deserved considering I'd forgotten about the man completely. All the same, I could really have used an ash-storm, driving rain – clouds, at least. Judging by the muffled shouting from within, Crito had overcome his paralysis and was now exhorting some form of vermin to give chase. I had a head start, but the weather was definitely against me- it wouldn't take at all long until they reached the door-

Reached, yes. Went through?

The door was a huge slab of metal, connected to switches both outside and inside by what must be a very clever series of cogs and counterweights. Said mechanisms were generally hidden away, but just to the left of the door the passage of time had eroded away their protective covering, exposing a forest of gears to the air.

With trembling fingers, I took off my pack and dug through it. My antics inside had sorely depleted my store of potions, but I hadn't been able to think of anything to do with...

There.

I gathered the corroding potions I'd created and, one by one, poured them over the exposed mechanisms. Practiced alchemist though I was, I had to concentrate fiercely to keep my hands steady. If this didn't work, I'd have lost my head start.

Whatever skill of construction, art of metallurgy or clever enchantment it was that had let the Dwemer machinery survive the millennia, it gave way to the concentrated assault of minced Hunger skin and kresh fiber simmered in rooberry oil. Each successive potion produced an acrid cloud and a faint bubbling sound, and by the time the last vial had been emptied the intricate cogwheels had been replaced by a solid wall of rust.

As if on cue, the door shuddered. I could feel myself tremble at the sight, but it didn't open. After a moment, a muffled cry came from inside. "Boss! The door's not working!"

"What?"

Well, that should keep them occupied for a while.

I turned to leave and froze.

Asleep the Nord might have been, but unlike our friend the mage he hadn't downed enough wine to float a ship. The sun was well above the horizon now, and the noise the looters still inside Arkngthand were making could probably be heard back in Balmora. The man's eyelids were fluttering, and-

-and I'd let my illusion lapse after I left Arkngthand.

Quick as thought, I forced it back into place. Even as I did so, black spots swam across my vision. I gritted my teeth and fought against the surge of dizziness until it cleared. That spell was drawing magicka I didn't have, and if I didn't stop casting soon I might as well deliver myself back to Crito right now.

"Whas' goin on? Who in'blivion are you?"

I looked down at the groggy bandit. He was squinting at me in befuddlement, but that wouldn't last.

My ruse had carried me so far, I couldn't break character now. "House Telvanni has come to reclaim their belongings, scum." I attempted a contemptuous sneer, but my heart wasn't in it.

I had no magicka left for special effects. In fact, I was so drained I was honestly a little surprised my illusion hadn't collapsed yet.

I was, however, still holding my pack. And I had one potion left.

Even filtered through eyelids squeezed shut, the light of my flashbang was enough to make me wince. Judging by the agonised howl the looter let out, this was not even comparable to the effect if one happened to be staring straight at the vial when it broke.

The pounding on the door stopped. "Bato?" came a muffled voice. "Are you all right?" A pause. "What in the name of Talos is going on out there, anyway!"

I let the illusion drop and legged it.

*****

Notes: Sometimes I think making Adryn a noncombatant is the best writing decision I've ever made.

[haute ecole rider]

OMG!! This was sheer comedy! I loved how she outwitted those louts with a few spells and a wrinkled old robe . . . LOL

And at the end, when she knew she was done with all things magical and just hotfooted it out of there. Yay!

[ghastley]

Notes: Sometimes I think making Adryn a noncombatant is the best writing decision I've ever made.

It does seem to focus the story, by not leaving her a lot of options. Necessity is the mother of invention, and writing uses a lot of the latter.

But the extra details you weave in, that explain the why behind the what, such as the Telvanni angle here, take it a step beyond.

[Burnt Sierra]

I think Bethesda has missed a trick here with their classes. Sure Mage and Nightblade are fun, but Magical Con Artist seems to offer more fun

I absolutely love the character of Adryn, funny, reckless, full of self-doubt and confidence in equal measure, just a real pleasure to follow her journey.

A very well deserved S.G.M.!

(Must admit I'm curious about the new reader happy dance. I have an image in my mind of Travolta in Pulp Fiction...)

[Kazaera]

@haute ecole rider - I'm glad you enjoyed it, I was cackling writing this scene. I knew early on that the way Adryn got the cube from Arkngthand would involve some sort of trickery, but the Telvanni impersonation coalesced relatively late. And yes, Adryn knows when the time to drop all tricks and run has come...

@ghastley - that's basically it. I actually started off intending Adryn-who-couldn't-defeat-a-mudcrab-in-combat to be a temporary thing (my reasoning was basically that since any Morrowind character achieves godlike combat skills in the course of the game, one might as well start them off at close to zero in order to have a a little variety and a proper progression), but her inability to fight her way out of things lent itself to such fun plots and... creative problem-solving, ahem... arising from even straightforward quests that I decided to keep it.

@Burnt Sierra - Indeed! Although I suspect that if you asked Adryn she'd have other words to use for her skills than "fun" . And I'm of course glad you like Adryn! She's the character I've invested the most time in of everything I've ever written by a wide margin, so I'm glad to hear she's coming across as both believable and interesting to read about.

(As for the new reader happy dance, I'm afraid that any recordings have been destroyed. )

Last installment, Adryn decided to get out of the Dwemer ruin via impersonating an all-powerful Telvanni mage and fleeing while the looters were too shell-shocked and wary to attack. To her very great surprise, this actually worked. Last we saw her, she'd left eleven (11) looters trapped inside Arkngthand, one (1) looter, temporarily blinded, outside Arkngthand, and was making her way back to Balmora with the puzzle cube in her pocket to hand it over to Hasphat Antabolis. Let's see how that goes...

*****

"There. One Dwemer cube, delivered as requested." The cube made a solid clink as it hit Antabolis' desk. I couldn't help the triumphant smile that spread over my face at the sound.

I'd opted to wait a day to deliver the cube. It had taken me a significant part of yesterday to get back to Balmora, despite a handy lack of pursuit from Arkngthand. Or possibly because of that lack; terror for one's life can serve as a quite acceptable substitute for both sleep and physical conditioning in certain circumstances. Without it, my body began to lodge complaints.

These complaints were, I had to admit, both justified and significant, involving such matters as "we haven't eaten since last evening", "we haven't slept at all this night", "we've drained our magicka so badly it'll probably take two potions just to get our pool back to empty", and similar concerns. However, as I couldn't actually do anything about any of those things until I returned to Balmora, I really felt it could have held off that long. Alas, it did not, and the miles back passed in a slow, agonising haze. When I reached the town signpost, I could have hugged it.

Correction: it turns out that one's willpower suffers quite a bit when hungry and sleep-deprived, which in turn has a significant impact on one's ability to resist random impulses. I did hug the signpost. The guards almost didn't let me in.

After that, I decided I wasn't in a fit state to be seen by – well, anyone really, but definitely not the man who'd been the cause of all of this – and opted to spend the rest of the day addressing my body's complaints. Marayn did make it clear that my bed in the Mages' Guild was off-limits until the guild closed in the evening, but as this led to lunch in the form of rat-inna-bun from a street vendor followed by a several-hour soak in the hot springs to get clean again and a visit to a laundress to see to my ash-covered clothes (I was relieved when she said they should be salvageable, as I really did not have the money to keep replacing them) it wasn't all bad.

As my mind returned to the present, my smile died. Antabolis hadn't picked up the cube, and the expression on his face could not possibly be called happy. "What is it?" I asked warily. Had there been another cube after all, and I hadn't picked the right one?

"So old Hasphat has some connections in the underworld, you know. Connections that told him Crito and his men were turning over Arkngthand in search for a Dwemer artifact in the first place. A Dwemer artifact that belongs in a real scholar's hands, hands like Hasphat's, not some greedy collector's. Sadly, he may have been a little too open about that opinion, and word that he wanted the cube filtered back to Crito's ears."

I frowned. "Is there a point to this? And a reason why you're talking like a Khajiit?" Perhaps the equivalent of my own Skyrim accent, a man who'd been raised in Elsweyr? But he'd spoken like any other Imperial when I'd first met him.

As Antabolis pinched the bridge of his nose as if to ward off an impending headache, something else struck me. "Wait a moment! You knew about Crito and his men in the ruins." I'd gathered he must have, but this was confirmation from the man's own lips. "You couldn't have warned me? I ran straight into their guard!"

"My point," Antabolis said, ignoring me completely, "is that last night I went to the Southwall Corner-Club to get some drinks. And what did I find but Crito himself, deep in his cups and swearing loudly about the damn Telvanni mage who'd made a mockery of him and his gang. I have to hand it to you – I've never seen the man so murderous in my life."

Truth be told, that bit of information left me feeling more relieved than anything else. This might be considered something of a strange reaction on being told that a band of bandits has sworn revenge on you, but considering they had no way of identifying me I wasn't too worried.

More to the point, on my long walk back I'd been hit by the horrible thought that I might have jammed the door even better than I'd intended, actually trapping those inside. I'd only meant to delay the looters, not endanger their lives, and even telling myself that Nord heads would certainly be hard enough to bash down the door hadn't helped the guilt. As a result, the fact that I hadn't doomed them to a terrible lingering demise qualified as good news, death threats notwithstanding.

"Do you think this is some kind of joke, girl?" Antabolis had apparently misinterpreted my smile.

"What?" I asked, biting down my reflexive reaction at that appellation (two syllables!). "I mean – sure, I had to improvise a little. It would've helped if the Dwemer had left an emergency exit, really. But what's wrong with that? It's true that Crito might be mad, but he has no way of tracing me, or by extension you-"

Antabolis' fist hit the desk in front of him with a meaty thump. The papers shook, and a goblet nearly toppled over. I took a step back.

"No way of tracing you, sure. Up until Hard-Heart sends some minions to check on old Hasphat, since he didn't exactly make a secret of wanting the cube. Or, you know, I publish a scholarly work on the cube, which was the reason I wanted it in the first place. That would make it relatively obvious, don't you think?"

"Oh." My voice was small. For a moment, I almost felt guilty. Then it hit me. "Wait a minute. If that's the case, it would be a problem no matter how I got the cube for you. What, exactly, were you expecting me to do?"

"To do?" Antabolis' mouth opened and closed wordlessly a few times as his eyes bulged. Apparently my entirely innocent, perfectly reasonable inquiry had nearly pushed him over the edge. Finally, he choked out, "I was expecting you to kill them!"

Now it was my turn to gape. "Kill all those people? How would I do that?" A pause. "Why would I do that? They were minding their own business! They hadn't done anything to me!" The letter on Crito's nightstand swam into my memory. "Crito is sending money home to his family, you know. His father is sick and they won't be able to pay the healer without him!"

Antabolis dropped his head into his hands. "Stendarr preserve me, Caius sent a lunatic." His voice was a little muffled by his palms, but I could still make the words out.

I'd have taken offense, but before I could formulate my objection a thought occurred to me. "How exactly was me going on a murder spree supposed to help anything, anyway? Surely this Hard-Heart would still have noticed when you published your article?"

Antabolis looked up, breath hissing out between his teeth. I really didn't understand why he was getting so frustrated, because I was definitely the only one in this room who was making sense right now.

"All right, you naive little idiot," he growled. "Here's an explanation of how the real world works. Radd Hard-Heart, over at Fort Moonmoth, is in Velanda Omani's pocket. The Hlaalu Councilor, if I have to spell it out, the one who's entangled with Orvas Dren and therefore the Cammona godsdamn Tong. Everyone knows that except the Legion. So – Omani hears about some artifact in Arkngthand. It's unique, it's hard to get, so obviously she has to have it. It'd look ever so lovely in her trophy cabinet. Who cares what it's for."

There was real disgust in Antabolis' tone, a scholar indignant about a mere collector. I was starting to think his talk of writing a research article about the cube was in earnest. "She tells Hard-Heart," he continued, "Hard-Heart sends someone expendable. If some adventurer kills them all, loots the ruin and takes the cube, well – that's just how the game goes. Everyone knows that. Same if old Hasphat turns up with it later. Maybe the adventurer sold it to him, maybe Hasphat pulled one over on them. Omani is annoyed, Hard-Heart's even more annoyed, but there'll be other artifacts. They don't care enough to go up against old Hasphat, and Crito's no longer around to care."

The Imperial grinned. I swallowed and moved a little further back. That expression put me more in mind of a saber-cat baring its teeth than anything that could be termed 'friendly'.

"What's completely different is if someone who for some reason thought disguising herself as a Telvanni mage was on the same plane of existence as a good idea waltzes in, steals the cube, and tweaks Crito's nose on the way out. That's not just mocking Omani, that's making her into the Jester King and getting another Great House involved in her affairs, got it? Right now, she's furious, probably trying to figure out which Telvanni decided to play her for a fool. And that's Mara's own peace compared to what Crito is feeling. The instant either of them hears old Hasphat had anything to do with that- the moment someon thinks old Hasphat went to the Telvanni-" He drew a finger across his throat demonstratively.

"Um." I considered apologising, but somewhere between my mind and my mouth the word sorry turned into, "I think you're all touched by Sheogorath. In what universe is murdering almost a dozen people more acceptable than a little thievery and sleight of hand?"

"Spoken like someone who's never had anything to do with organised crime. Seriously, where did Caius even find you? A Jarl's palace?"

"A palace? For your information, I-"

Thankfully, my brain engaged before I could finish that highly indignant and extremely reckless sentence. I could indeed tell Antabolis that this was not in any way, shape or form how organised crime had worked in Skyrim even before the guild war, and tell him from what was almost certainly a place of more authority and experience than he'd ever earned. However, letting my connections to the Thieves' Guild be known still qualified as a Very Bad Idea. Jobasha had been bad enough.

"...never mind."

I'd just have to let Antabolis draw his erronous conclusions even as I made my own, far more accurate, deductions: apparently Allidiot hadn't been an aberration, because from the sounds of it the whole underworld here didn't know how to behave. Retiring had been for the best for more reasons than one, and I had to silently thank Elone for driving me to it.

"Right. Jarl's palace it is," Antabolis said when it was clear I wasn't responding. "Well, young miss Jarl-in-waiting, you can tell Caius that not only won't he get his notes, he'll have to do some grovelling to make this disaster up to me. And take that with you."

I stared down at the puzzle cube. "What am I supposed to do with that? I don't want it, you were the one who-"

"What are you- what do you expect me to do with it, now that you've made it worth my life to possess?" Antabolis cried. "Get out!"

Well, then.

Once outside, I leaned against a nearby wall and let myself think.

That could have really gone better.

Personally, I blamed Antabolis – if he'd given me a little more information when he'd sent me off, none of this would have happened. I was, however, a little doubtful that Cosades would see it the same way. Especially since all I had for him was a perfectly useless Dwemer artifact that probably now qualified as the hottest good on Vvardenfell, probably not an acceptable substitute for the notes he'd been after. And this after he'd asked me to be careful...

Wait a moment.

What had Cosades said when he'd sent me to Antabolis?

I would be very, very grateful if you managed to do this without running afoul of any Hlaalu Councilors, high-ranking members of the Imperial Legion, or organised crime syndicates.

...oops.

"He's going to kill me," I told the wall.

*****

[ghastley]

I would be very, very grateful if you managed to do this without running afoul of any Hlaalu Councilors, high-ranking members of the Imperial Legion, or organised crime syndicates.

You left out the Telvanni (or CC did). Aren't they potentially upset by that impersonation?

[haute ecole rider]

Whups. Definitely not something you'd want to hear in surgery at the vet's . . .

Welp, from the frying pan into the fire.

[Kazaera]

Almost forgot to post this! I was at a conference for most of this week, returned with the spoils of bits and bobs of new technical knowledge (including a way better understanding of neural networks/deep learning, whoo), various goodies like stickers and free T-shirts, aaaand a fever - so have been mildly distracted. Here's hoping the fever is a one-day thing because this is a holiday weekend in Germany and I have better things to do with my free Monday.

@ghastley - You're absolutely correct! Personally, I think CC wasn't giving Adryn quite enough credit. It's literally going next door to talk to Hasphat, he thought. There is no possible way even she could manage to piss off the Telvanni during that, he thought. ...He knows better now.

@haute ecole rider - I suspect Adryn's "oops" is an utterance that strikes fear in the heart of many. Definitely Cosades, after this.

Last installment, Adryn tried to deliver her stolen prize. She failed, as Hasphat informed her she'd managed to anger enough very powerful people in the way she went about getting the cube that it was no longer safe for him to have. Last we saw her, she was heading off to Caius Cosades, cube in her pocket, to admit how badly the whole thing went.

Chapter 14.4
*****

Cosades did not, in fact, kill me, although he certainly gave it a good try via verbal flaying. By the time I left, I felt about as tall as a gnat. Thankfully, Cosades also didn't give me any further tasks to do. Most likely seeing what had become of the first one had cast serious doubt on my ability as any sort of spy. I certainly wasn't going to protest otherwise.

With no further instructions from Cosades and no sign of Ranis Athrys – Masalinie mentioned at breakfast one morning that she was on the mainland for some sort of conclave – I was more or less left to my own devices. I split those pretty evenly between helping Ajira in the alchemy lab and taking Masalinie up on her suggestion to work on Mysticism together.

Honestly, if it had been completely up to my preference, that ratio would have been a lot more imbalanced. However, at some point hiding behind those crates in the Dwemer ruin, I'd realised that I had to understand my abilities – and lack thereof – at Mysticism better than I did. If I'd had a better understanding of how my teleportation skills worked and what the risks were, I might have been able to teleport out after all, the cube would have mysteriously disappeared with no apparent Telvanni involvement, Antabolis would have been happy, Cosades would have been happy and I wouldn't be in more-or-less-unwilling possession of a highly sought-after Dwemer artifact right now.

Truth be told, it would probably have been safer to get rid of the thing, but after the amount of suffering I'd went through for it I simply couldn't bring myself to. It might come in handy one day, I told myself. Maybe I'd be able to sell it to a collector on the mainland, or Cyrodiil, or in the Summerset Isles – somewhere well beyond the reach of Crito, Hard-Heart and Velanda Omani, where nobody even knew what a Telvanni was. For now, however furious the three of them were, I had to doubt they'd be searching beneath my bed anytime soon.

And so a day passed, then two, then three. No doubt some people would have been bored. I, however, like to consider myself firmly attached to this thing known as sense, and so deeply appreciated the peace, quiet and lack of life-threatening situations.

Between manning the alchemy desk and restocking her shelves, Ajira and I managed to fit in a highly enjoyable bout of experimentation on various plants native to the Ashlands such as trama root, fire fern and scathecraw. Ajira even found the time to write up our findings. I still had to nudge her towards a properly dry academic style on occasion, but overall I thought it was a fine piece of work which should certainly help her towards Journeyman status.

Even more importantly, the willpower-restoring effect we'd found on scathecraw made me suspect I might have had it before in Dulnea's tea. However, when I tried boiling a piece the acridity of the resulting liquid took my breath away. In fact, I suspected I could count myself lucky it hadn't taken my tongue away. Further investigation was definitely needed.

In the meantime, working with Masalinie progressed surprisingly well. True, we soon confirmed that my struggle learning Mysticism spells was only surpassed by my complete inability to teach them, but Masalinie turned out to be surprisingly patient about it all. She even claimed that my failed explanation of how exactly I cast a detection spell had given her a potential basis for a research paper. I suspected she was lying to make both of us feel better, but I still appreciated the thought.

The guild guide spells came as the real surprise. I managed them part of the way through the second day, and immediately braced myself for disaster. Needlessly, it turned out. All my attempts at both sending and receiving my test subject (a rock I'd found outside that struck me as having an adventurous, risk-loving air) went flawlessly.

I'd have blamed it on random chance, but the truth was that the guild guide spells felt different. And if what Masalinie and I had theorised between ourselves was correct, that feeling was accurate.

The other teleportation spell involved locating and connecting yourself to a Mystic beacon, and after a long and lively discussion we'd decided that that must be where it went wrong. "For us," Masalinie had said, "we have no way of perceiving the beacons themselves, and no control over which beacon the spell latches onto. We just cast, and the closest one is chosen automatically. From your descriptions, it sounds like you do. Which is fascinating!" Apparently catching sight of my face at that statement, Masalinie hastily added, "But of course I can see how it could cause difficulties..."

If Masalinie's theory was correct, then the guild guide spells were probably the closest I came to how teleportation spells worked for everyone else. I wasn't groping around trying to latch onto the closest beacon, or even trying to work out which one I wanted in the first place. All I had to connect to was the guild guide platform, which was impossible to miss due to being right there in front of me. Then, the spells on the platform handled the rest for me. There was a bit of timing involved in linking up with the guild guide on the other end, who'd be reaching out at the same time, but if you missed that the connection just failed. No being yanked around, no ending up somewhere completely different from – or well above – where you'd wanted to go. It was something of a revelation.

On the afternoon of the third day, I was almost feeling vaguely competent. This feeling was helped along by Masalinie exclaiming about how well I was doing, never to mention Estirdalin's stopping by to watch for a bit. The clear skepticism on her face had slowly morphed into interest, and she'd given me a grudging nod before leaving. I figured this qualified as some sort of approval.

"All right, now let's try sending to Sadrith Mora. Iniel is to the far east, you need to-"

There was a faint tugging at my mind coming through the guild guide platform. Masalinie stopped, eyes unfocused. I heaved a mental sigh. This interruption was a very common one.

"Is that from..." The call was definitely from the south, but further than Vivec and without Cassia's feel to it... "the mainland? Er, Mournhold, I think you said?"

"Yes, actually. It's from Effe-Tei." Masalinie sounded vaguely surprised. "You're good at that. Do you..." Masalinie looked at my face and clearly thought better of what she'd been about to suggest. "Er, if you step back I'll just take this passenger through and you can try sending to Iniel once I'm done."

I relaxed my scowl as I cut my magical connection to the platform, leaving Masalinie to handle whoever was coming through. A few days of working together had made it clear that Masalinie shared the common research mage's weakness of an utter disregard for health and safety. I was willing to bet she'd been about to suggest I try receiving the passenger.

A burst of light, coalescing into a figure on the platform-

"Thank you, Apprentice Masalinie," Ranis Athrys said as she stepped down. "A neat bit of spellwork, as usual." Then she saw me.

"Um. Hello, guildmistress," I offered weakly as her eyes narrowed. "It's... nice to... see you?"

"Is it. An odd sentiment indeed, considering that you were certainly nowhere to be found when I was looking to assign you duties."

I gulped.

"I'm really sorry about that. I got... caught up in things. In Vivec. Couldn't be helped." I could feel myself wilt under Ranis Athrys' stare. "Um, you can assign me duties now? I've been assisting Ajira... and Masalinie..." My voice died.

"Have you now." After a painfully long moment, the guildmistress finally stopped staring me down. "Interesting. Perhaps there is something suitable. I'll have to speak to Estirdalin about the matter, of course."

Then she was sweeping out through the common room as I collapsed against a wall.

"Wow, she really has it in for you." Masalinie frowned. "She's usually reasonable about these things – she must think you were skiving. Maybe there's someone who can confirm you were really unable to make it back to the guild?"

"Oh, there is." I suspected Dileno Lloran or Athyn Sarethi's testimonies would make quite an impression, for one. "But any such person might give her a little too... much information, if you know what I mean. I think it's better she doesn't know the details of why I was in Vivec. For her own peace of mind and for the sake of guild harmony, you see."

"Of course." Masalinie's voice was very dry. "In that case... grovel, make clear you're willing to do whatever she says, and wait for it to blow over. In the meantime, why don't you try connecting to Iniel?"

I sighed. I hoped showing I was willing to help Masalinie with her research would net me some points.

"Sure. To the east, you said?"

The connection to Sadrith Mora was a lot more finicky than to any of the cities in western Vvardenfell, and it took me five tries until I managed to send my trusty rock off to Iniel. I wondered what the issue was. Distance? But Masalinie said connecting to the mainland cities wasn't nearly as difficult, and they were even further away. Some sort of magical interference?

"Something like that," Masalinie said when I asked. "The connection passes through the heart of the island – Molag Amur, the Ashlands, and Red Mountain. Loads of volcanic activity, old Dwemer fortresses, Daedric ruins, and then the Ghostfence on top of all that. Connecting to Almalexia is harmless in comparison."

"Huh."

"Really, those things alone are more than enough to explain the difficulty. There's no need to go around saying there's some strange evil creature lurking beneath Red Mountain-"

"...um."

"-no matter what Marayn says, especially considering he's not even trained in Mysticism so how would he even know-"

"...Masalinie," I cut across her rant. "Do you want to keep working on this, or would you rather argue with someone who isn't present? Because I could be helping Ajira right now, you know."

Masalinie blinked. "Right. Sorry, Adryn. I shouldn't let out my frustrations on you – especially considering you're not Temple adherent either."

I bit my tongue. For all Masalinie's assumptions and for all my skepticism of religion, that statue had left quite an impression and I was inclined to believe the Temple was battling something unpleasant. The Julianos-worshipping Masalinie had a real chip on her shoulder about the subject, and her insistence it was all pretense and I'd simply run across an ordinary cursed item (more forceful now that it wasn't around anymore, I couldn't help but note) grated. Still, it was an argument I'd rather not have, not when I could change the subject to get us back on track instead.

I wondered if this was what maturity felt like.

"Anyway, we were working on sending larger distances. Try Effe-Tei now-"

True to Masalinie's words, although the distance to Mournhold was greater than that to Sadrith Mora, making the connection was a lot easier. The only difficult bit was that you had to sort of leapfrog over Vivec on the way, but it was a far cry from the finicky, threading-a-needle-with-gloves-on feel of managing the connection across Red Mountain. Whatever the reason.

My rock had made the trip to Mournhold twice without ending up at lethal-to-squishy-people heights and was sitting patiently on the pedestal awaiting a third time when I looked up and saw Ranis Athrys standing in the doorway. My spell fizzled and died.

"...guildmistress! What can we do for you?" I stepped back from the guild guide pedestal, feeling a little off-kilter. The woman was not the sort of person who stood and waited for her underlings to notice her, making the fact that she hadn't interrupted us rather out-of-character.

"Ah, Adryn." The woman gave me a close-mouthed smile, and I really wished I could believe that it was the unfamiliarity of the expression that made it look so unpleasant. "I would like a word with you about your duties."

I gulped.

*****

[haute ecole rider]

Uhhhh oHHHHHH . . .

now I'm holding my breath waiting for the other shoe to drop!

Found your incursion into the field of Mysticism quite interesting, and I am very curious to see a full explanation of why Adryn has so much trouble with standard Mysticism spells . . .

[Kazaera]

Hey, the forums are back!

@haute ecole rider - the other shoe is indeed in the process of descending to ground! As for Adryn's Mysticism issues, we're going to have to wait and see...

Chapter 14.5
*****

That evening found a hasty council-of-war taking place in the alchemy lab. The attendees were one Balmoran apprentice alchemist, one Balmoran apprentice guild-guide, and one unattached, as-yet unassigned Apprentice who was watching the truly unexpected progress of her career in the guild with some amount of horror.

"Somebody," I hissed. "Explain."

Ajira and Masalinie looked at each other.

"Because," I went on when neither spoke, "I would be so very grateful for someone to tell me why, exactly, our guildmistress seems to think assigning someone who misfires teleportation spells to be a guild guide deserves actual consideration, or in fact anything other than hysterical laughter. At the moment my only theory is that Ranis Athrys has lost her mind, and although that explanation serves as a nice catch-all for inexplicable events it... lacks a certain something. I would quite like a better one, and you two know the guild better than me. So."

I leaned back and crossed my arms, letting the silence lengthen. I wasn't usually the patient sort, but with Ranis Athrys' I believe you may be suited as a guild guide still echoing in my ears I was well prepared to outwait my guildmates.

Masalinie broke first. "I'm sorry, Adryn, I have no idea either. I swear I wasn't expecting this to happen! But... you know, the idea might not be as absurd as you think?" She ducked her head, apparently unwilling to meet my glare. "I mean... you haven't had any problems yet at all, and we did discuss this- if my theories are correct-"

Her speech was starting to come faster, a light growing in her eyes which I suspected was due to either pure academic interest or the prospect of a research finding that might be enough to make Journeyman. Ordinarily I'd indulge her, but there were more important things at stake.

"Very helpful, thank you," I cut her off. "Ajira, do you have any ideas?"

Ajira straightened from where she'd been stirring kresh fiber. "Some. Although first... done is done, the kitten has the yarn, but nevertheless Ajira feels she must inform her friends that they have been quite foolish."

"Oh?" I asked with a sinking feeling. I did not like Ajira's expression.

"Perhaps this is Ajira's fault. She has been spending much time in the lab, brewing remedies for fevers and coughs now that the weather is growing colder, stewing the last of the fresh kresh leaves and roobrush of year... much time in the lab, not much time in the guild proper, and so Ajira did not realise how much, how openly her friends had been working on the guild guide spells. Friend Adryn is new to the guild, of course, so it is quite understandable she did not realise it was a bad idea. But she is surprised Masalinie does not have a better grasp on guild politics."

"Hey," Masalinie protested.

Ajira ignored her. "The thing Ajira's friends must understand is that the guild guide system is a very, very important part of the Mages' Guild in Morrowind. More than bringing in money, it makes the guild... acceptable, in the eyes of native Dunmer. Outlanders and outlander ideas are not very welcome here, and other foreign guilds have had serious difficulties in this land. The Fighter's Guild was taken over by the Camonna Tong, the Imperial Cult is generally ignored, and the- certain other guilds have still not managed to find their footing."

My curiosity sparked at the bitten-off sentence. Which guild had Ajira been about to mention?

Before I could ask, she went on.

"But the Mages' Guild is different, yes? It is the most successful of the foreign guilds by far, and that is because of the guild guide system. Even a member of the Camonna Tong will find their feet bringing them through the doors of the guild when they weigh taking a silt strider against instantaneous transport."

Ajira paused to take a sip from a flask on her desk. Masalinie and I stayed silent, letting her continue her very informative monologue.

"So- every branch of the guild must have a guild guide in place. However, the job is much disliked and requires some degree of spellcasting ability, so it is hard to find suitable candidates. Apprentices in Mysticism, mainly, but this is a balancing act. After all, they do not want to stay apprentices, and if they are kept at that level for too long, they may do something drastic."

Masalinie nodded. "I can confirm that. Believe me, the idea gets more tempting every day."

Ajira shot her a look. "From what Ajira hears, Darveli Arano in Narsis is far closer to such behaviour. She hears Darveli has threatened to walk out of the guild entirely if she is not relieved of her duties within a month. There are no other suitable apprentices in Mysticism at this time, and there are great repercussions on the standing of the guild as a whole if a city so important as Narsis is without a guild guide for so much as a day. And..."

"...and there I was, practicing guild guide spells right in front of Ranis Athrys." I dropped my head in my hands with a groan. "Masalinie, with all due respect, I hate you a little right now."

"I'm sorry!" At least the girl looked genuinely apologetic. "I didn't realise that Darveli was that close to snapping. I mean, she's been grousing about the job forever, but we all do that. And I figured that even if you managed the spells, Estirdalin would shut down anyone who wanted to make something out of it. She's a real stickler for safety and highly respected, Ranis usually listens to her." She wilted. "I didn't realise about the... political implications."

Despite myself, I began to thaw towards Masalinie. That had the ring of truth, and certainly this turn of events had caught me by surprise.

"All right," I said. "Thanks, Ajira. I can see how this happened a lot better now, even though I still think our esteemed guild-mistress should consider that it would be a lot worse for the standing of the guild if some of its customers' journeys found a permanent end through involuntary and unsuccessful flying lessons. But since she's being short-sighted about this..."

I paused, thinking.

"I really don't want to be a guild guide. Even if you decide to leave the risk of manslaughter aside, with all due respect, it sounds like an awful job."

Apart from the issue of being unable to use the transportation system oneself that Masalinie had complained about - and I was not prepared to be effectively trapped in Narsis, wherever that was - there were the working hours. As far as I could tell, they amounted to 'always'.

"So," I decided to state the obvious conclusion. "We need to convince Ranis Athrys to let up. She sounded like she was still weighing the idea - I'd like to tilt those scales a little. Maybe..." I began fidgeting with the roll of sealing wax on Ajira's desk as I thought. "Would it help if Masalinie played up my inabilities in the report she's writing? Focuses on the hash I make of Intervention spells, neglects to mention that guild guide spells might not be affected in the same way?" I hated the idea, but I was sure I'd hate being a guild guide more. Besides, my pride was easy, low-hanging fruit as far as things to sacrifice went.

Masalinie opened her mouth, looking rather annoyed, but Ajira got there first.

"Unfortunately, Ajira believes this plan does not get at the heart of the problem."

"Oh?"

"As an Associate, friend Adryn might simply have been sent on errands such as collecting flowers or mushrooms. Apprentice duties must be different - it must be related to magic, there must be a component of training and learning, a track towards making Journeyman eventually. The guildmistress mainly deals with Associates, not Apprentices, and does not have any suitable work for that rank."

That... made sense. From what I'd experienced of Ranis Athrys' recruitment tactics, they were very unlikely to result in keen, intelligent, scholarly-minded mages like yours truly.

"For some reason that is beyond Ajira, the guildmistress does not wish her to have an assistant. Even more puzzling that she wishes for Galbedir to have one, even though Ajira has far more work, work that is far more difficult than Galbedir's... but no matter, because that did not work out either. So now it is guild guide duties. If those do not work out, then..."

"...you're saying she'll find something else completely unsuitable for me to do. Not because she doesn't realise it's not a match for my skills, but because she has to give me something to do."

Ajira dipped her head. "Precisely."

I leaned back until my head rested against the stone wall behind me. "I'd like it to be known that after her last two ideas, I am officially terrified of what Ranis Athrys might come up with." I allowed myself to indulge in self-pity for a moment - seriously, why me? - then forced myself to focus on the practical side of things. "How do I prevent it?"

"You attach yourself to a different guild hall."

I looked at Masalinie in surprise. Call me bitter, but I'd stopped thinking she was going to make any useful contribution. She flushed under my stare.

"Exactly what Ajira was going to suggest. Friend Adryn is staying at the Balmora guild-hall, is spending most of her time there, is helping Ajira and Masalinie with their work... so her duties are set by the Balmoran guild-mistress. However, it is a common thing for Apprentices to switch halls if there is no suitable work for them. Ajira herself originally joined the guild in Ald'ruhn, but went to Balmora to become an alchemist. If Adryn travels to another hall, is assigned duties from their master or mistress, Ranis Athrys will have no claim." Ajira frowned. "It is surprising that she has not suggested this herself, especially when her latest idea encroaches on another's hall."

"You know Ranis. She's always had a stick up her-"

"-maybe don't finish that sentence in this building?" I interrupted Masalinie. I had a lot of experience with downright suicidal tactlessness from the inside - I could recognise it in someone else.

"Spoilsport," Masalinie grumbled. Then she twitched.

"Passenger coming through?"

"A whole group." Masalinie's mouth twisted into a grimace as she slid off the stool where she'd perched.

At the entrance to the lab, she hesitated, then turned back to look at me. "Adryn - I am sorry. And I promise I won't mention guild guide spells in anything I write, at least for now."

Well, well. It looked like her heart was in the right place after all. A pity about her brain.

Judging by Ajira's expression, she was feeling much the same. "Foolishness." She shook her head. "Ajira will never understand how so many people are so willing to simply blunder through life, expecting things to work out, without understanding the forces at play. Almost all her fellow Apprentices, many Journeymen... it is foolishness, she thinks, especially when it results in a mess like today's."

"Thank you. I appreciate the run-down, and the advice, from someone who clearly pays attention." I paused. "I have to say, you're very well-versed in the politics."

Ajira smiled, lips pulling back from sharp, sharp teeth. I was reminded of the theory that the concept of smiling was not native to Khajiit and had instead been picked up through long exposure to men and mer. Originally, the saying went, a Khajiit baring their teeth had been an expression of threat.

"Masalinie is the daughter of two merchants from Wayrest. Ajira is the granddaughter, the sister of slaves. Masalinie feels she is safe, not knowing certain things, trusting the world will be good to her. Ajira... does not. And so she learns. Friend Adryn understands?"

"Friend Adryn understands," I echoed. "Especially as the daughter of no one at all." It wasn't the first time I'd run into Masalinie's attitude, but it still wasn't one I could comprehend. I'd never really believed the world to be a kind place - orphanhood will do that to you - but if I'd ever held any traces of such a notion, the Warp had disabused me of it most thoroughly.

To say nothing of certain events in Windhelm last year.

"So, o politically acute one, what are my options?" I asked, shaking my head to rid myself of the memories. "Staying on Vvardenfell if possible. The mainland is pretty far away."

More importantly, when we'd last spoken - if one could use such a term for an encounter that had mainly consisted of me being yelled at - Caius Cosades had told me he wanted me to stay on Vvardenfell for now. I chafed at being ordered about, but wasn't reckless enough to defy the man.

"Well..."

*****
End of chapter

Notes: The forthcoming chapters are the result of some radical replanning; the original plan was to have Adryn actually become a guild guide at this point (and this particular plot point had been in the works since the very beginning), except that when I tried actually writing it the plot sort of... flopped over and refused to move. Cue authorly scrambling, here's hoping it's not too obvious.

No worries, though; even if plan A didn't work out, I still managed to make Adryn suffer. ?

This post has been edited by Kazaera: May 16 2020, 02:57 PM

[haute ecole rider]

Making Adryn guild guide would have made for some hilariously funny shenanigans, but such adventures may have to be confined to the mages guild hall, which I believe may defeat the purpose of the game (Morrowind, though I have never played TES III beyond the initial meeting with Caius Cosades . . . ). I look forward to what authorly scrambling you plan to present us - I'm sure it would be as hilarious as your original plan, plus make more sense within the parameters of the game. ;P

[Kazaera]

@haute ecole rider - yes, that was basically the problem. Although Adryn the guild guide wasn't planned to be permanent, it was still supposed to cover a longer period and it turns out writing interesting shenanigans for a character who's effectively locked in place is not exactly easy; I had some, but not enough to cover the length of time required, and I couldn't time-skip well either because I'd been sticking too close to Adryn beforehand. So, scrap the whole thing, and learn from it that I need to plan really well if I want to make Adryn immobile for a longer period. *sighs*

Anyway, on to authorly scrambling.

Last chapter, Adryn escaped Arkngthand thanks to a hasty Telvanni impersonation, then learned from Antabolis and Cosades that said Telvanni impersonation was maybe not the smartest, never to mention most unobtrusive, way of escape. Adryn retreated to the Mages' Guild with the Dwemer cube that Antabolis now refused to take in order to lick her wounds. Somehow, this turned into Ranis Athrys deciding Adryn would make a fine guild guide. Last we saw her, she was planning to move to a different guild hall in order to escape this fate.

Chapter 15.1
*****

If I was to be honest, Ald'ruhn hadn't made a good impression on me so far. It started with the city being located in a blasted wasteland, compounded the matter through having been built by architects who'd clearly been high on skooma when it came to selecting suitable building materials, and then added insult to injury by being populated by Redorans. Between Varvur, Bolvyn Venim, and (last but certainly not least) Athyn Sarethi, I'd really had enough of the breed to last me a lifetime.

In one aspect, however, I did have to give Ald'ruhn credit over Balmora: its Mages' Guild was built on a significantly larger scale. Between a separate chamber for the guild guide – one which I had to doubt the Altmer in question was particularly happy about – the library I'd holed up in the last time I was here, a proper dining hall instead of chairs crammed into the kitchen, even what looked like private chambers which I optimistically hoped were available to Apprentices, it was clear that the guild had managed to acquire a larger space when they expanded here.

I liked it. Balmora could get a bit cramped, in my opinion.

The guildmistress' office was no exception. When I poked my nose in the door that had been pointed out to me when I asked about Edwinna Elbert's whereabouts, I saw a room several times the size of the little cubbyhole Ranis Athrys presided over in Balmora. The space was taken up with a sturdy oak desk, bookshelves on every wall, and a workbench to the side covered in an assortment of Dwemer items in varying states of disassembly. The woman herself was seated behind the desk, scribbling industriously. She looked up when I entered.

"Adryn, wasn't it? The apprentice who brought me Chronicles of Nchuleft?"

The book in question was lying open beside her, glimmering with preservation magic. Judging by the thick sheaf of notes also on the desk, Edwinna Elbert had apparently taken the time to get acquainted with it since my delivery.

"Yes, that's me. Although I'm afraid I don't have any rare books or Dwemer items with me today, guildmistress," I said with some regret.

Edwinna Elbert had emerged as the clear favourite when it came to Vvardenfell guild heads to try to work with. Trebonius was obviously right out, Skink-in-Trees'-Shade in Sadrith Mora was apparently not accepting new Apprentices due to 'the delicate political situation', and Folms Mirel in Caldera was not only rumoured to be difficult to work with but also specialised in Mysticism and enchanting – a bad match for me, to put it mildly. Given the lack of other contenders, making the Ald'ruhn guildmistress approve of me was quite important and I'd seriously considered gifting her the Dwemer cube from Arkngthand as a bribe. Alas, I'd decided that although she might be grateful for a Dwemer artifact, she was unlikely to thank me for getting her tangled up in the mess of complications involving looters, criminal organisations, corrupt members of the Imperial Legion, Hlaalu and Telvanni the cube carried with it.

The woman laughed, a clear, ringing sound. "Don't worry about it! I don't expect people to come bearing gifts. What can I do for you?" Her lips quirked in a smile. "You can call me Edwinna, by the way. I don't stand on ceremony."

Hesitantly, I felt an answering smile tug at my mouth. The friendliness was a distinct contrast to Ranis Athrys'... everything... and I knew which one I preferred. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

"Ah... you know I'm nominally attached to the Balmora guild? It... hasn't been working out. I was hoping you'd be willing to take me on as an apprentice. Um..."

I'd had a speech all worked out. It had been a good speech, covering all the angles of why I, Adryn, was an excellent aspiring scholar and mage in the making whom any guild-mistress should be delighted to mentor. I'd stayed up late fine-tuning it. Unfortunately, right now I couldn't remember a word of the thing.

I was about to start improvising when Edwinna held up a hand. It was probably for the best, since that usually ended badly.

"Well, I can't say it's a surprise. For all her efforts at recruitment, Ranis Athrys never quite knows what to do with apprentices." For a moment, the woman seemed lost in thought, eyes gazing into the distance. Then she blinked as though coming back to herself and fixed me with a look. "Now, why don't you have a seat."

"Excuse me?"

"Don't worry, I don't bite." Edwinna flashed me another smile, although she still seemed more serious than before. "It's just that this could take a while, so you might as well be comfortable for it."

Let no one say I'm not amenable to logic... or creature comforts, for that matter. I needed no further prompting to sit down in the carved wooden chair in front of the desk.

"All right, then." Carefully, the woman shifted Chronicles of Nchuleft to one side and pulled a blank piece of parchment. "If I remember correctly, you're an alchemist by trade. I'm afraid there's no opening for one here – Anarenen handles all our needs, and he's refused any and all apprentices I've thrown at him so far. The only real position I can offer is one in Dwemer scholarship. Is that something you'd be interested in?"

I'd been expecting it – and Ajira had warned me – but my heart still fell at the confirmation that alchemy was out.

"It's all right. I know there's no alchemist positions available, so I figured I might branch out a little. I've been reading about the Dwemer after Archmage Trebonius asked me to look into them, and I've found it interesting."

Edwinna groaned, rubbing her forehead. "I'd ask what our most esteemed leader asked you to do, but I'm certain I don't want to know."

Probably a wise decision, that. I as a complete layperson had reacted badly enough to his suggestion that the mystery of the Dwemer should be easily to solve – Nine only knew how someone who was dedicating their life to the subject would react.

"So, tell me. Which books have you been reading?"

The interview took quite a while, but as it was significantly more relaxed than any other I'd been subjected to on this island I didn't mind. Although we briefly touched on my abilities in the various magical schools (I found myself pathetically grateful when Edwinna opted not to dwell on the subject of Mysticism), the bulk of our talk concerned the Dwemer. Edwinna was just as unimpressed by Nordssen's writing as me, but grudgingly agreed when I claimed there were useful tidbits of information buried in Ruins of Kemel-Ze alongside the dross. In contrast, Antecedents of Dwemer Law met her approval as a serious scholarly work, even if she thought the author overstated the level of Aldmer influence on Dwemer society.

Edwinna also professed herself deeply jealous when she heard I'd lived in Markarth.

"The only inhabited Dwemer city in all of Tamriel! I've always wanted to see it, but it's such a long way and it's so hard to find the time..."

"It's not that impressive, really. Anything that wasn't welded in place is long gone – I've seen more Dwemer artifacts in your office than in my entire time living there."

"But the insights that can be gained from the layout alone!" Edwinna sighed, starry-eyed. "You'll have to tell me about it sometime."

I shrugged, aiming for noncommital. I really didn't know what she wanted to hear – that, judging from the layout of the buildings, the Dwemer had eaten, slept, and used the privy the same as any man or mer four millennia later?

Besides, thinking about Markarth meant thinking about Charon, and that was something I strenuously avoided doing these days.

Finally, Edwinna set down her quill decisively.

"Well! Thank you for taking the time to answer my questions, Adryn. I believe this will work out nicely – welcome to the Ald'ruhn guild."

She stretched out a hand. I shook it, knees weak with relief.

"Really? You mean it? Um, I mean- thanks!"

Edwinna kindly ignored my incoherence. (In my defense, at this point in my time on Vvardenfell I was not used to things going according to plan.) "It's a pity you aren't combat capable," she said instead, sounding thoughtful. "I could use someone to pick up some items from Arkngthunch-Sturdumz-"

And maybe this still qualified as things not going as planned. I withdrew my hand and took a small step backwards.

"-but I can find someone else for that," Edwinna made the shift smoothly. "More to the point, I could also use someone to cross-reference materials, sift through the items the expeditions bring in, skim the lower-ranking journals in case there's any worth among the dross, proof-read my work and other such more clerical tasks. From our conversation that sounds far more like your sort of expertise."

I nodded my emphatic agreement. Perhaps I could relax again?

"Sadly, I don't have anything for you to do right now, not until Senilias gets back from Nchuleftingth or the latest edition of Annals of the Dwemer gets here from Imperial City. I can give you some background books to read for now and let you get settled in, or..." Edwinna snapped her fingers. "I know!"

"Know what?"

"Something for you to do until real work arrives. I'd like you to go to Maar Gan and talk to Huleen for me." My expression must have been rather blank, because Edwinna took one look at me and clearly realised more explanation was necessary. "She's a member of the guild, brilliant researcher, fantastic work in the Illusion school, doing an excellent job with that apprentice of hers... but she does get a little, mm, carried away sometimes. Forgets little things, like the fact that she needs to eat or sleep, or that she is not the only person living in Maar Gan. And that some of the others might find certain side-effects disturbing."

"I think I see where this is going."

Edwinna sighed. "I talked to her after the incident with the area-effect low-level Calm spell and she did apologise for it. She knows to be considerate, she's just a little... forgetful sometimes."

A ball of ice had formed in the pit of my stomach at the words Calm spell. I ignored it with iron determination. "Sometimes. Like now?"

"I've had complaints, yes," Edwinna admitted, sounding as if each word was being dragged out of her. "Noises, that sort of thing. I'd like it if you could have a word with her. Remind her of the importance of good neighbourly relations, that sort of thing. I'd do it myself, but I can't take the time away from Ald'ruhn right now."

Well, that sounded easy enough. Except for the fact where I would be telling a powerful mage to stop doing something she wanted to do, and I wasn't... exactly... renowned for my tact.

"There's no chance of her taking this badly, is there?" I probed.

Edwinna blinked, looking taken aback. "Oh, goodness no. Huleen is one of the calmest people I know, I've never seen her lose her temper. And she used to work in the Vivec guild."

I heard the unspoken words: with Trebonius. If managing that without an explosion wasn't proof of a person's unruffled and easy-going nature, I didn't know what was.

"So? Will you do it?"

Now it was my turn to be surprised. Wonder of wonders, Edwinna was actually waiting for me to agree to her request, rather than assuming I would naturally fall in line. I didn't know who had last given me such consideration, except that it certainly hadn't been Ranis Athrys.

One of the basic tenets of training is to reward behaviour you'd like to see more of. Besides, how difficult could this be? "Sure. It sounds pretty manageable."

"Wonderful! I promise I'll have something more suitable arranged for you once you get back."

*****

Notes: Edwinna decided to surprise me by actually trying to be a good mentor. Let's see how that works out in the long run.

[Burnt Sierra]

After the previous installment regarding Adryn's future work placement, I was all set to post a comment along the lines of:

"Hey, Trebonius might get his answer!"

or

"Ooh, Adryn in Telvanni territory, wonder if she'll wear the cube as a necklace!"

When you posted an update, rendering those comments outdated

Must admit, I was always a fan of Edwinna, out of the Mages Guild, she seemed the most... normal(ish). Though...

"It's a pity you aren't combat capable," she said instead, sounding thoughtful. "I could use someone to pick up some items from Arkngthunch-Sturdumz-"

*There may be trouble ahead*

Always eagerly read these updates, though time isn't always allowing me to comment as quickly as I'd like.

S.G.M.

[ghastley]

"Sure. It sounds pretty manageable."

Oh, no!

Doesn't Uleen live not quite in Maar Gan? Or is she about to relocate as a result of whatever happens next?

[SubRosa]

I am playing catch up. Since I was kind of lost, I decided to start over from the very start again. I had almost forgotten how much I loved Adryn's snarky nature. Sort of like Daria Morgendorffer, but with magic.

[Uleni Athram]

Yeah, I’m starting at the beginning again too. Strangely enough, for such an avid reader of Adryn’s story I haven’t really commented on it. Not once, I think. I’d like to chalk it up to people already saying what I wanted to say but eh. I’m shy when it comes to posting on other people’s stories. Dunno why, tbh.

Anyway, yo, what up! I gotta say that I find several aspects of Adryn’s character to be just plain diamonds; her humor and the way she reacts to hilarious situations is obviously at the top of the list, but her street smarts, rebellious nature and the absolutely *human* way she responds to more serious matters is just outstandingly excellent!


Case in point, when she counted the money Caius Cosades gave her and cried because she reasoned that was all her life was worth, I felt that deeply, like a punch. Like oh man. It just felt so organic and just ... in-place.

[haute ecole rider]

Why oh why am I thinking of a High Elf mage named Ancotar in a ruin with an unpronounceable name? (thinking back to Julian's story). Yup, that mission that Adryn just agreed to do reminds me of that. I am wondering if my thoughts are correct . . .

[Uleni Athram]

WAIT WAIT WAIT

CHAPTER 8.8 RIGHT NOW AND

OUTER LEG REAP??????

OUTER.

LEG.

REAP?

OH MY GOD THATS MY GO TO MOVE IN GRAPPLING! (It helps that I have long legs and I base my movesets on foot sweeps and trips against shorter partners— a matter of practicality, you see)

Baranat’s wheel is a little more ambiguous since Judo has a whole slew of moves with wheels in their names...

But!

if I would go a-theorizing, with Varvur being a Dunmer (and thus shorter than the Nord) and focusing a critical eye on his opponent’s footwork I would guess that he was going for a Hiza Guruma? Probably catch him when he was circling? If correct, then I must say that his choice of moves (Reap + Wheel) is commendable.

Your choice of moves is commendable.

SO.

LET’S SHINE A LITTLE LIGHT ON YOU, YOU DELIGHTFUL PERSON YOU.

HAVE. YOU. DONE. MARTIAL ARTS. YOURSELF???????

GOD IM SO EXCITED RN AND THIS IS MAKING THE WHOLE CHAPTER MORE FUN TO READ THAN IT ALREADY IS!

[Kazaera]

Thank you for commenting, everyone!

@Burnt Sierra - I always felt the same about Edwinna! That said, normal-ish compared to the likes of Trebonius is... not a super high bar, haha.

@ghastley - Huleen lives a little outside Maar Gan, correct. That said, that... isn't the main problem with this quest, as we'll see.

@SubRosa - hey! I hope you enjoy the reread, and glad you like Adryn's sarcasm - honestly, I think her POV is the main thing that keeps me at this fic, it's just so fun to write.

@Uleni Athram - first off, you absolutely don't need to be shy about commenting (I appreciate everything!) but I do get it and am not always as good as I'd like to be about posting on other people's stories myself. I'm glad to hear that you're reading and enjoying!

Second off, I have to admit I'm not a martial artist at all (sorry!), but delighted that Varvur's strategy came across so believably! I vaguely remember looking up martial arts moves on Youtube for something I thought would have worked in the situation Varvur was in. Apparently I succeeded beyond my wildest dreams

@haute ecole rider - there absolutely may be similarities. I think the inhabitants of Maar Gan would definitely agree. Mages, right?

Chapter 15.2
*****

Some time later, I'd laid claim to a bed and chest in the Ald'ruhn communal dorms and finished moving my paltry stack of belongings. The communal dorms, too, were better-furnished than the ones in Balmora, and (more to the point) were located at the end of a corridor off the library instead of only closed curtains away from the central hall, meaning that it might be possible to sleep in without customers walking straight past your snoring form. An improvement, all in all, but I was still battling disappointment at the discovery that Apprentices were not allowed to use the private rooms. Perhaps after I finished Edwinna's task, I'd have the necessary distance to view the bright side.

Given Edwinna's statement that she didn't have the time to travel to Maar Gan, never to mention that I hadn't heard of a guild there, I suspected the teleportation network did not stretch that far. Still, hope springs eternal, which was how I found myself back in the tiny chamber upstairs that housed the guild guide platform... as well as a small end-table bravely supporting a precarious pile of books along with a half-eaten pastry and a mug, never to mention an Altmer who'd been looking increasingly bored every time I passed through.

"Not one of our destinations, I'm afraid." Erranil shrugged where she perched on a small stool that had been jammed into one corner. "This is as close as the network will take you. You can take the silt strider. Or walk."

I sighed. It was disturbing how quickly you got used to instantaneous transport - particularly when you got free use thanks to your guild membership.

Given what lived in the wilderness around here, the silt strider was not just the most appealing option, I'd also argue it was the sane one. Sadly for me, it was also the expensive one. I hadn't seen hide nor hair of any stipend from the guild and suspected it was reserved for people with assigned duties like Ajira and Masalinie. Worse, I was down twenty drakes for the ingredients I'd used back in Balmora to replenish my emergency potions kit. My purse now contained a sum total of one septim and twenty-eight drakes, and I was watching it dwindle with worry.

"Say, Tanar mentioned something earlier," the guild guide interrupted my thoughts. "She said that Masalinie was training you in guild guide magic. Is that true?"

I gulped. The tone was casual, but there was a hungry glitter in Erranil's eyes which I did not like at all.

"Well... yes," I was forced to admit. "But! It was just as an experiment, with inanimate objects. My teleportation spells can misfire, I have a condition, I really can't work as a guild guide unless you want your customers strewn over the landscape."

Worryingly, Erranil's expression didn't change. "Oh, I don't see the problem myself. It's an experimental form of transport, you know, a certain element of risk is to be expected, anyone who's put off by the possibility of dismemberment can take the strider. You should consider-"

"Really nice to have this chat but I do have to get going now have a nice day goodbye!"

Even as I (not to put too fine a word on it) fled, I could feel Erranil's eyes burning into my back.

I slowed down once I'd left the guild hall. The sun was shining down from a clear blue sky, the sort of weather that - after my last experience in Ald'ruhn - I felt deserved both appreciation and reinforcement. Something that would not be found by hurrying through it.

Besides, I still had to work out where I was going. Silt strider or city gates?

After a few moments of thought, I sighed, turned and began heading towards the strider station. Really, there was no choice here - it wasn't as if the money would do me any good in a kagouti's stomach.

In the long run, I definitely had to figure out a regular income. For now, I could just hope that Edwinna believed in rewarding apprentices for their errands.

*****

The view from the strider made it clear I'd made the right choice, my lighter purse (one septim seventeen now) notwithstanding. The nix-hound pack we'd passed had not looked friendly, and I found myself glad I was dozens of feet above ground.

"They're getting desperate," my travelling companion noted.

The only other passenger was, or so he said, a priest of the Tribunal Temple on his way to Maar Gan. He was also the only Dunmer I'd met so far with anything resembling my hair colour, maybe a shade darker than mine but still a red that was coppery-orange rather than crimson. There was no other resemblance that I could make out, his skin much paler than my own and his round face, arched nose and flared ears decidedly unfamiliar, but it still left me more kindly disposed towards him than I might otherwise have been. I even found myself willing to ignore the fact that I was sure I'd caught a hint of contempt in his eyes when I'd introduced myself as a member of the Mages' Guild - after all, he was being polite enough now.

"Desperate?"

"Less and less prey about these days. And with the Blight spreading, what there is often isn't safe for them to eat. In these lean times, anyone travelling had better know how to protect themselves."

"Or take the strider," our caravaneer threw in from where he was directing the beast. "I've never seen anything out here that will attack a full-grown silt strider, and our prices are very reasonable."

Eleven drakes was daylight robbery, in my opinion. Especially when I could swear that I'd only seen seven pass hands when the priest had boarded. I had a suspicion I'd paid the Tamrielic-speakers special rate and I didn't like it at all.

"-if you do find yourself on foot, I recommend the Conjuration school, for what it's worth," the priest was saying. "Far more versatile than simply tossing a fireball at someone, combines very well with combat training - haven't you ever wanted to pull a sword out of thin air? - and it's truly excellent for distraction. Summon a clannfear and the beasts won't even notice you leave."

I was pretty sure I wasn't imagining the hint of condescension in his voice, the experienced sorcerer talking down to the Mages' Guild know-nothing. Even though what I knew about combat magic wouldn't fill a page, it still grated.

"Thanks for the tips, I'm sure." Be diplomatic, Adryn. And - since you're really bad at being diplomatic - change the subject before you put your foot in it. "Say, I think we skipped introductions earlier. I'm Adryn." Given our somewhat bumpy method of travel, I opted to forgo any handshakes in favour of nodding in the priest's direction.

Something flickered in his eyes.

There was a hissing sound from the front of the strider. "Outlanders," the caravaneer said in the tone of someone who wished he'd charged me twenty drakes for the trip. "It's as if you'd never heard of manners. Introducing yourself with your call-name only, denying your clan, your ancestors-"

I should not push the man off the strider. He was the only one who knew how to steer it, so that would just end in us all being eaten in the wilderness - possibly by my companion So-Very-Good-At-Conjuration's summoned clannfear.

I could, however, respond in kind.

"Native Dunmer. It's as if you'd never even heard of not jumping to conclusions. So insistent that the world must work the way you think it should that you never bother to consider that foundlings exist, and some of us can't introduce ourselves by our clan-name because we have no clue what it is."

If I was any judge, the man should wish that he wasn't on the back of a giant, stilt-legged beast and far too far away from the ground for it to swallow him right about-

A groan came from the front of the strider.

-now.

I smiled.

"A pleasure to meet you, muthsera Adryn," the priest interrupted with a slight dip of his head. The condescension was gone from his voice - I decided it was due to him being impressed by my excellent verbal sparring skills. "I am Methal Seran, of the Tribunal Temple in Ald'ruhn."

My interaction with the Temple in Vivec made me wonder about his rank. Was he a novice, like the one I'd met during the cleansing? Something higher? A respected leader like a Disciple? I couldn't judge based on the very plain robes - the rules were different when it came to religion. Still, he didn't look all that old to me (the equivalent of mid-twenties, maybe?), and even with the patronising attitude taken into account he seemed far too friendly for a higher-up.

"I'd be honoured if you would call me Methal," he said, adding another point in favour of him being closer to a novice in status than a Disciple; in my experience, someone who's earned a title likes for you to use it. "And what brings you to Maar Gan?"

"Mages' Guild business." I thought about it for a moment and decided not to elaborate. Disciplinary matters between members really shouldn't be aired about. At least, we'd certainly have kept this sort of talking-to quiet back in Windhelm.

A wrinkle grew between his brows. "I see. If you-"

"Destination in sight!" the caravaneer hollered.

"Oh?" I slid along the low bench until I was near the front of the beast.

There was one thing I had to be thankful for when it came to my experiences on this island - somehow, miraculously, I'd escaped my midair adventures with Varvur without developing a crippling fear of heights. This meant that silt strider journeys were still quite manageable, and that I could now lean forward and observe the city of Maar Gan from an angle only cliff racers usually got to enjoy without being disturbed by flashbacks.

Maar Gan was nestled against a steep hill. It had been built, if that was the right word, in the same style as Ald'ruhn - if on a smaller scale. There was no giant emperor crabshell like Skar, and the largest shell-house I saw was maybe the size of the one housing the Ald'ruhn Mages' Guild. There were far fewer of them, as well. A town rather than a city, Kynesgrove to Ald'ruhn's Windhelm.

"The view's the best part of this job," the caravaneer commented as his fingers danced over the exposed organs on the strider's head, manipulating them to guide the beast towards the city. (This was truly the weirdest form of transport I'd ever encountered). Then, after a pause, "...sorry. You're right. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions."

He sounded genuinely apologetic, and I could feel myself soften despite myself. "Forgiven and forgotten. Just maybe stop and think a little next time someone introduces themselves with a call-name only?"

"No danger of that, trust me." The man's mutter was fervent.

*****

This post has been edited by Kazaera: May 16 2020, 03:00 PM

[Kazaera]

Last installment, Adryn made friends on the silt strider trip to Maar Gan. For a certain value of friends. Now, she's in town and ready to investigate these mysterious disturbances at Huleen's hut...

Chapter 15.3
*****

Once on the ground in Maar Gan, I waved farewell to other two Dunmer and began my investigations.

After a short time, I had the sinking feeling I'd have difficulty finding my destination. The locals' eyes followed me with suspicion, suspicion that bled into hostility when I greeted them. I was inclined to guess that the reason was, again, my use of Tamrielic. Dunmeris was more wide-spread here than I'd seen anywhere else – I hadn't passed a single conversation I could understand yet – and although thanks to the Empire everyone seemed to be reasonably competent in Tamrielic, I suspected that the words they'd use for that fact wouldn't include 'thanks'.

If I was going to be staying in this region, it would really help to pick up some basic Dunmeris. I suspected knowing even a greeting in the language would help thaw some of the stony faces meeting me. One more for my list of things to look into.

At least the woman I was speaking with now hadn't clammed up entirely, even if her expression made me think she had considered it. "What do you want, outlander?"

"Excuse me, I'm from the Mages' Guild, here to investigate reports of disturbances coming from the residence of a guild member – Huleen? Could you tell me where-"

"About time!" the woman snapped. "It's been terrible, absolutely terrible – screeches and howls coming from that hut all hours of the day, to say nothing of the crashes and banging."

I paused as the sinking feeling in my stomach demanded my full attention. Screeches and howls? From what Edwinna had said, I'd been expecting... oh... bangs, odd smoke, maybe some minor damage to the surrounding area or the errant spell effect such as accidental widespread invisibility – the usual signs of a guild member getting carried away, who one could carefully interrupt in order to point out they were scaring the locals. But the sort of noise the woman was describing pointed towards a completely different problem altogether, and one I was – frankly – not equipped to handle.

"It sounds like there's a rampaging Daedra in there!"

I swallowed. My throat had gone very dry.

"Yes, I can see how that would be disturbing," I said carefully. Especially if that's actually true. "If you don't mind me asking – it's definitely noises from some sort of living creature, you'd say? Not, say, explosions of any sort? Spell misfires? A Sound spell gone terribly wrong?"

The woman glared at me. "When I say screeches and howling, I mean screeches and howling. Not explosions. Explosions wouldn't be a problem, we got used to them!" She frowned in thought. "Although there haven't been any since the howling started, come to think of it."

Well, scamp drek.

"Thank you for the information, that's very helpful to know." I licked my lips. "I'll... look into it. Could you tell me where Huleen's residence is?"

Huleen's residence turned out to be in the natural location for a mage's home: outside the city, where as few people as possible would be inconvienced by experiments gone wrong – no matter what 'going wrong' involved. The little crab-shell house wasn't far from the southern wall, near the guard tower.

I stopped a safe distance away, eyeing the building suspiciously. I couldn't hear any noises right now, but the problem neatly resolving itself just as I got here would be the sort of luck I, in my experience, simply did not have.

Although maybe that had changed? After all, with the amount of bad luck I'd been faced with lately, I thought I was more than due its opposite.

In any case, I needed to do something. I doubted Edwinna would be particularly impressed if I came back and told her I'd been too afraid to open the front door. Edwinna not being impressed meant bidding farewell to any possibility of becoming an Ald'ruhn apprentice, which meant being subjected to Ranis Athrys' ideas for a suitable task. I could feel the prospect of Adryn, guild guide (and, looming just behind it, that of getting drummed out of the guild for accidentally killing customers) breathing down my neck. A little risk was nothing in comparison to that.

"Who knows? Maybe Huleen was testing sound-based illusion spells and there's nothing dangerous in there at all."

Trying to convince myself of that idea got me to the door, which I unlocked with the key Edwinna had given me and eased open.

I stared.

The place was wrecked.

Carpets had been turned into shreds. What had once been furniture lay in splinters. A chair had proven hardier, only one of its legs wrenched off – but, as if in revenge for its durability, the upholstered back had been torn into to the point where white stuffing coated the surroundings like snow. Shards of glass and ceramic were scattered all over the floor. Nine, even the stone wall bore claw-marks.

A faint whimpering noise came from the hallway ahead. I thought it was coming closer.

Very, very carefully, I closed and locked the door again.

Right. There was probably a Daedra loose in the building. What potions did I have that might be able to handle a Daedra? I hadn't exactly packed for combat... but maybe...

Stop.

In my few scant weeks on this island, I'd found myself in over more my head more times than I wanted to count. A lot of the time, the problem was that I just kept on going at a point where I should've stepped back. The disaster of Arkngthand was freshest in my memory. I'd let preliminary scouting turn into the actual theft, at which point my ignorance of the circumstances surrounding the object I was pursuing had not just nearly killed me but led to my drawing so much attention to the retrieval that the client had rejected it. If I'd just withdrawn to rethink and investigate instead of jumping in, I might have managed to avoid those problems.

There was a probable Daedra in the building, and I was in no way, shape or form equipped to handle one – potions notwithstanding. I didn't need a particularly clever plan. What I needed was backup.

How unfortunate for me that Edwinna hadn't thought I'd need to bring any.

Well, I definitely couldn't head back to get some. Heading back to Ald'ruhn, getting someone to come with me and travelling back here would take at least a day. I didn't think it was a good idea to allow whatever beast was loose inside Huleen's house that much time for mischief. The front door hadn't looked that sturdy.

No, if I was going to get help, it would have to be from someone here in Maar Gan.

Well. I did know one person in Maar Gan. He'd even claimed to be reasonably proficient in Conjuration.

*****

Once inside, the Maar Gan Temple looked much like the one in Suran. There were the plain surroundings, the tapestries, the kneeling-cushions, the central pit ringed by candles (although strangely enough, this one had a giant rock sitting on top of it), the plate of offerings...

There was also a dremora.

"What," I said flatly, "is wrong with this town."

"Trust me, I've wondered that for a long time now," said the dremora, its voice deep and gravelly like an avalanche. I'd never heard one talk before. "Shall I assume you've come to hurl insults at me then, mortal? Or..." It peered at me, eyes narrowed. "Oh. It's you again."

Apparently dremora weren't particularly good at telling us mortals apart, because I was pretty sure I'd remember if we'd met before. Maybe it had spent so long watching people pass in and out of the temple that it was getting confused. Because apparently standing around in a Dunmer Temple looking rather bored was now a thing dremora did.

"Ah. Adryn, wasn't it?" My companion from the silt strider trip rose from where he'd been crouching near the giant rock. "What brings you to the Temple?"

"I'd answer that question except that honestly, I'm still stuck on the dremora."

"Oh, don't mind Anhaedra." Methal's voice was inappropriately cheerful, in my opinion. "He's harmless. I've just finished making sure of that, in fact."

"May the overseers of Coldharbour flay the flesh from your bones," the dremora droned. It sounded as if it were about to fall asleep from boredom.

"Right. Of course." I decided ignoring that statement was probably the best hope I had of preserving my sanity. "I've actually come about a Daedra. Not that Daedra, a different Daedra," and I didn't think I'd forgive Maar Gan anytime soon for having so many of the things I had to specify. "I was supposed to check on a guild member's house because there were reports of disturbances – screeching and howling. When I looked inside, the place had been torn apart."

"A rogue summoning?" Methal, I noticed, didn't sound cheerful anymore.

"It's my best guess. I need to investigate, but I'm,.. not... exactly very skilled at Conjuration magic." I squirmed. I hated this. "I was... hoping you... might be willing to help?"

Methal paused. I realised I hadn't offered a single thing in trade, and that appealing to people's good natures generally only has a low success rate.

I wasn't quite so far gone that I'd be willing to dig into my shrinking purse to offer a reward, thank you very much Athyn Sarethi. All the same, I was pretty sure I could sweeten this deal so it contained something Methal would appreciate.

Well, there was definitely one thing I'd learned about the man on our trip here.

"I'm sure people would be very interested to hear that the Mages' Guild needed help from the Temple to deal with their own affairs," I suggested. "Something I'd obviously be willing to confirm."

If Edwinna had wanted to keep our reputation intact, she shouldn't have sent an alchemist to investigate a summoning gone wrong. I mean, really.

A smile grew on Methal's face. "Ah, of course. I assure you, the Tribunal Temple is always happy to assist the Mages' Guild when they find their skills are not... adequate... for the task at hand." A pause. "Although honestly, this falls within my remit as a Master of Conjuration anyway."

A Master? Really? Either he was quite a bit older than he looked, or he was inflating his own skills.

Well, inflating his skills would still make him better at Conjuration than me, considering inflating implied that there was at least some sort of basis there. For me, claiming any ability in Conjuration at all would be inventing out of whole cloth. Methal's abilities, no matter how dubious, were going to be an improvement.

"I hope my cousin feasts on your intestines," the dremora told us as we left. Both of us ignored it.

*****

This post has been edited by Kazaera: Jun 17 2018, 06:15 PM