Outlanders (Morrowind Crossover) Options

[SubRosa]

I liked your first fuming line here.

Ahh, it's a bread riot. Or the makings of one at least. This will be interesting. These things have the makings of more than riots, and outright revolutions. Though I doubt the latter will happen here. There isn't enough of the other things necessary for that, like a cohesive political opposition leading the fighting in the streets.

Now they are throwing rocks. Getting more interesting. Maiko seems to have a level head though. I don't think he will go the Boston Massacre route of having his men open fire into the crowd.

And through it all the Kona Winds...

Some nice banter between Daria and Jane that reminds me of the old days, amnesia and all.

Look on the bright side Daria, a life of pertinence in the Imperial Cult means she gets to rub shoulders with both Joan of Arkay and January of Detroit.

And it looks like things are boiling over, and Daria + Jane are getting caught up in the now actual riot. I guess the heat made that bread riot rise after all. Not the best pun, but I'm shameless.

[Acadian]

Maiko is savvy and the Legion is lucky to have him. Sergeant Prajeau seems smart enough to listen but is clearly new to Balmora’s unrest. Captain Varro is inexcusably missing. Too bad about Prajeau going down but, thankfully, Maiko quickly takes charge and is the right man in the right place at the right time. Though that may not be enough to control this potential powderkeg. Crowd control is tough enough for those trained in policing to do it; much tougher for young military troops trained primarily to kill foes. The bad guys here (House Hlaalu) have basically pitted the hapless hungry crowd against the hapless bound-to-duty soldiers against each other. And you did a superb job of casting the heat, ash, humidity and wind as contributing accelerants for this situation.

Enter Daria and Jane. Daria’s biggest concern used to be her family being mad at her. Now, her own safety and that of her family and friends is foremost.

I note that the super savvy super nobles astutely left Balmora for their country retreats quite some time ago.

[Renee]

If you've never seen Slacker then that is something you should check out. Gosh, I'm wanting to spoil some things so badly! Well, I can only tell you this: Slacker is really unique. It may have been based on some idea from some other movie from the '60s, but the way it's presented is unique. Not just low budget, almost NO budget.

Yeah, the Cold War sucked. I can remember being a kid, thinking damn, all of this could be gone if some bozos with sinister agendas push a few buttons. But as Frank Zappa used to say: "the Cold War will never turn hot. Too much real estate involved."

Yes, Ilya Repin! I have seen one of his paintings back when I was more active studying art. Impressionism is my favorite type of painting. I can't look at a Van Gogh or a Manet and not get emotional.

----

I like how Daria walks alongside of her friend as Jane takes part in the more religious aspects of her life. There's a barrier which would normally be there, but it's long been broken. That must be sort of fun, to explore Vivec with a mate.

Uh oh. What's this letter? Who the heck would know she's in Vivec? Mm, I'm gonna guess it's Tomal Sloan. NOOOO whoah whao.. it's from QUINN!!

Ha. Seems this letter was written during circumstances which are now way out-of-date. The Mall Princess still thinks Bookworm Big Sis + the Big Mer are together. Cool. I'm glad the parents are worried, especially mom. I hope mom realizes she's lost something precious.

I wonder how much trouble that courier had to go through, right? First, he or she would've went to the Ascadian Isles, after all. ✉

The place usually bustled with workers running like ants to load or unload the thorax nets and cargo shells.

Thorax! I love all the insect terminology that gets used in this story! - Anyway, geez. So they arrrive in the middle of an ash storm. I hate those things. It's not so much the storms themselves, it's the way they always linger for frickin' hours and sometimes days. Go to sleep for X number of hours, the storm is still raging. Press the Wait button for X number of hours, the storm's still raging. Sigh.

I actually agree with Daria this time. She's finally feeling as though things are getting settled in the big city, yet now she has to return. That's a tough call. Because I have a feeling things aren't going to go so well. Her family's gonna be stressed if all this turmoil is happening.

In any event, I REALLY got the urge to fire up Morrowind now. 8 in the morning here, is that too early for some gaming?

This post has been edited by Renee: Aug 5 2023, 01:02 PM

[WellTemperedClavier]

Fun fact: this riot actually is a canonical event known as the Balmora Tax Revolt. It's briefly mentioned in the Hlaalu Yellow Book of 3E 426 (and its Redoran equivalent, the Red Book). This fanfic is the most anyone's ever written about it, so far as I can tell.

@SubRosa - Thanks! Wanted to set the scene.

Balmora might be kind of a tough place to start a revolution. A lot of the population is transient, so they don't necessarily feel as much investment in the place. But when people can't get bread (or kwama, as the case may be), they tend to get restless.

Imperial Cult might not be the worst life for Daria. I doubt she'd be much for the rituals and dogma, but she wouldn't mind doing some behind the scenes charity (though the less face-to-face interaction there is, the better).

@Acadian - Maiko is indeed a good agent for the Legion. That's one of the reasons Varro had him keep an eye on things in Balmora; he knew Maiko had the smarts and the empathy to get a good feel for the place and its people. Sadly, Varro's judgement was a bit lacking in not explaining the situation well to Prajeau. It'll be a scary situation.

And yeah, that's the reason Tomal's family left. His mom was worried about the unrest. Tomal himself actually wasn't, so score one for his mom on predictive ability.

@Renee - Thanks! I'll have to check that one out. Not sure if it's a side effect of getting older or what, but I am becoming slightly worn out with all the special events extravaganzas (I remember when something with lots of special effects and fantastical elements was an event). So it'd be nice to see something grounded and down-to-Earth.

And low budget's not a problem for me. My favorite movie, Brick, had a pretty low budget.

I was alive during the Cold War, but too young to remember any of it. Sadly, it seems like we're in a new one with China (and Russia).

Impressionism is one of my favorites as well.

Vivec's probably much more bearable if you're with a friend who knows the place. Less time navigating the ridiculous layout, more time finding the cool cornerclubs and vistas that only the locals know about.

Quinn's letter is out of date, but it gets the family's message across: they miss Daria, and she really should accept that and go home. As for the courier, he likely had to hustle a bit, but that's part of the job.

Yeah, the terminology is fun. More reminders that this is in Morrowind, and that Morrowind is a weird place by our standards!

So it's not an actual ash storm going on, just really hot and windy. Kind of like the Santa Ana winds you might've experienced in California. Though I'm starting to wish I did make it an ash storm for dramatic purposes. Those things really do make it harder to get around. Just like nature, all you can do is wait it out.

It's never too early (or late) for Morrowind.

Episode 31: Bad Day in Balmora

Chapter 2

Ugh, volcano days were the worst!

Okay, sure, Red Mountain wasn’t actually blowing up or whatever, but volcano days still meant ash drifting down and getting on clothes and hair and stuff. Quinn wore one of mom’s old hats that day to keep her hair ash-free, but the pink was a little too bright to go with her blue wool dress, which she had to use because she didn’t have a good spring dress and mom was making her earn money for a new one. Plus, she’d woken up with her hair practically perfect, which was like a total miracle, and now she had to hide it under a hat!

“Okay girls,” she said, as she and the rest of the Fashion Club left Drenlyn Academy for the day, walking past the sketchy looking guards that Lli had hired the last month. More security against the protests, she'd said.

"And guy!” Quinn added, for Jeval’s sake.

“Thanks,” he said.

“I’m calling an emergency meeting. We need to figure out like, a thing we can do when the weather gets all gross like this!”

“We really do,” Satheri said. “I hate it when Red Mountain spews ash.”

“Ew…. Satheri… spew…?”

Satheri gasped. “I’m sorry, Tiphannia, I didn’t mean to be gross!”

“Anyway,” Quinn said, stepping in before Satheri got too freaked out over a word, “what we want to protect most is hair.”

“This ash isn’t great for my scales either,” Treads-on-Ferns said, her gills flaring.

“Exactly! This concerns everyone in Morrowind. It’s pretty hot, so let's meet somewhere close by. Walking around all sweaty is not something Fashion Club members should do, though Jeval has a waiver to do that ‘cause he’s a guy.”

“Some of us plain don’t sweat,” Treads said.

“Lucky,” Satheri muttered.

“Not as much as you think,” Treads answered. Quinn got the feeling that Treads hadn’t wanted anyone else to hear that.

That’s when everything went crazy. Something like a hundred people suddenly charged into the street leading out of Drenlyn, fighting guards with fists and sticks. A thrown bottle knocked Quinn’s hat right off her head like a second later.

“Okay, change of plans!” she shouted, stepping back from the fight and putting her hand over her scalp. That thing had almost hit her! “We have the emergency meeting at Drenlyn, instead!”

She raised her arm to make sure the rest of the club saw her, and turned around to lead the way back to school... where the new guards were already shutting the gates.

“Wait!” she cried out. “We’re students, you have to let us in!”

Jeval grunted and ran ahead. “Hey, stop!”

He ran as fast as he could, but the gates shut before he got close.

“Open up, we go here!” he bellowed.

“I’m not opening anything!” came Magistrate Lli’s voice from up above.

Quinn followed the voice to three guards in bonemold armor on top of the gates. Then she realized that Lli was one of them. Bonemold armor looked so gross, too. Legion armor was way more stylish, plus it let people see your face.

Though, with all the junk flying around, maybe that wasn’t always a good thing.

“Muthsera Lli,” Quinn said. “Could you please let us in? My parents—"

“I’m sorry, young people, but I can’t take the chance that you might be with the rioters!”

“But we’ve been students here for years,” Jeval said.

“Student today, criminal tomorrow. My duty is to protect the school, which is why I’ve been pouring so many funds into security measures, like the armed guards and reinforced doors that are now keeping out the undesirable elements!”

The sounds of fighting kept getting louder. Quinn looked back. All she saw was dust and a bunch of legion soldiers trying to push people back with their shields.

“Please, muthsera. My friend here, Satheri, is from a very good family—” Quinn started.

“Not good enough! You’ll have to find your own place to wait out the storm.” Lli chuckled. “Oh, I’ve been waiting for this day. Fortress Drenlyn, at last!”

Jeval stepped back from the doors. “You suck, Lli!” he yelled.

“Careful!” Lli warned. “I wouldn’t want my mercenaries—I mean, security detail—to get the wrong idea about your intent.”

Jeval took another step back. Oh no, was he going to take like a running leap or something? But then Treads took Jeval’s arm.

“Forget her, Jeval, it’s not worth it.”

Whew! She didn’t think those thugs would kill a student. But they carried real spears…

“Yeah, fine,” Jeval said. He looked at the rest. “Let’s go to my place. It’s close, and I want to make sure my folks are okay. Maybe we can hide there for a while.”

“That sounds like a great idea, Jeval,” Quinn said.

Jeval led the way. Quinn had gone up and down the street a million times, but it felt different now. Shops closed up, people running down alleys to get away... it was scary.

“I can’t believe these protesters are causing so much trouble!” Satheri complained.

“You’d cause trouble too if you couldn’t afford food,” Treads-on-Ferns said.

“Yeah, it’s getting pretty bad,” Jeval agreed. “This is all Hlaalu’s fault.”

“You can’t say that!” Satheri protested. “I’m sure Great House Hlaalu had a good reason for those taxes.”

“Satheri is… like… right. Fighting makes everything like… so dirty…”

“Look at it this way, Tiphannia,” Treads said, “the taxes also mean that dresses and accessories cost more.”

Tiphannia’s jaw dropped. “Those taxes… are like… a crime… against… fashion…”

Treads nodded. “Among other things.”

“But Great House Hlaalu needs money to keep the city safe, and to do like, business and stuff!” Satheri’s voice was getting squeaky, like it always did when she got flustered.

“It’s okay, Satheri,” Quinn said. “We’re not mad at everyone in Hlaalu. I’m sure someone just made a mistake, and the company will fix it soon.”

The last thing she wanted was for them to start fighting. Jeval was right though, this was totally Hlaalu’s fault.

“This way!” Jeval said, pointing left at a side-street up ahead. He ran ahead, and then skidded to a stop. “Oh crap!”

Quinn lifted the hem of her dress and jogged over to him. What seemed like half the city fought in the street in front of Jeval's house. Guards beat protestors with clubs, protestors threw rocks, and it kept getting worse.

“Quinn, can you see anyone in my house?" Jeval asked. "Dammit, I need to know they’re okay!”

“I’m trying, Jeval! But I can’t see through all this dust and stuff.”

One of the guards stumbled out of the fight.

“Oh man,” he wheezed. He leaned against a shuttered flower shop. “This is intense.”

“Excuse me,” Quinn said, going over to him, “but do you know if the people in that house are okay?” She pointed to Jeval’s place.

The guard took off his helmet. Quinn was sure she’d seen him before. He was a big Dunmer guy with messy black hair, kind of cute but not that cute.

“Uh… I’m pretty sure they left,” he said.

“Do you know where they went?”

“Yeah! They’re being escorted to High Town! I think. Or wait, was it Labor Town? Someplace with ‘town’ in its name.”

Okay, well High Town had big walls and towers and stuff, so that’s probably where they went. “Thanks!”

“No prob! You should probably get out of here though.”

Quinn hurried back to the rest of the Fashion Club. “The guard said that people are being evacuated to High Town! Jeval, he said your family is probably on the way there already.”

He nodded. “Good. Let's go.”

“I bet everyone in our families will be there,” Quinn said. Actually, she wasn't so sure about that, but she needed to keep the club safe and keep it together. “Let’s go! They’ll have snacks and stuff for us, too. Healthy snacks!”

Quinn straightened up. She had to look her absolute best if she wanted them to believe in her.

“Be with me, Talos Stormborn,” she said to herself, “and someday, I’ll give the Empire the Fashion Guild it needs!”

Musical Outro - King of New York, by Fun Lovin' Criminals

This post has been edited by WellTemperedClavier: Aug 5 2023, 04:44 PM

[Acadian]

What a neat thing you did here, showing us this riot through the eyes of the fashion diva herself. Despite the real threat, I could not help smiling at Quinn and how she processes things.

Yeah, sweating is okay for guys, and Argonians needn’t worry about it.

Damn, Lli really is a heartless creature to turn her own students away!

Quinn is wise enough to realize that Treads has the right of it regarding House Hlaalu.

And when the going gets tough, Quinn really displays solid leadership, trying to keep up the moral of her little group and taking responsibility for the safety of the fashion club members in her charge.

[SubRosa]

Volcano days! That sure sounds exciting. Though probably a bad day for Tom Hanks. That guy has bad luck with planes, ships, and volcanoes...

Poor Quinn, the trials and tribulations she must endure...

More security guards. Great, I guess they can just raise the taxes that everyone is already complaining about to pay for them.

Note to self, future Fashion Club meetings will be spew free...

Oh boy, bottle to the hat! Now things are getting interesting!

That is Principal Li, keeping out the undesirable elements, like students.

I think Jeval might have the right idea. Time to grab some bottles and start hucking them at Li!

Is that Dunmer guard guy Kavon? I can't remember if he was a Dunmer in this story or not. He sure sounds like Kevin though.

Hopefully Talos Stormcrown will come through and lead the Fashion Club to safety. Then in the future we will learn that it was Quinn who designed the Imperial Dragon Armor worn by the Champion of Cyrodiil. Acadian is correct in that she is showing a lot of maturity in taking responsibility to lead the group to safety, and to prevent in-fighting (even though this is all on House Hlaalu).

[WellTemperedClavier]

@Acadian - Thanks! I figured it'd be more interesting if I switched between Daria's and Quinn's POVs for this section.

My note about the Argonians does make me wonder how they handle excess heat. Reptiles can pant IRL, though the Argonians (unlike reptiles) are warm-blooded (otherwise they'd probably have a really hard time surviving in Skyrim).

And this episode is also there to show some of the ways Quinn's grown up over the past few years.

@SubRosa - Morrowind probably could use a Tom Hanks expy.

Yes, the guard is Kavon. I don't think Quinn's ever directly interacted with him in this series, so that's why she wouldn't recognize the guy. And as you said, Quinn's making some good leadership choices here. Great House Hlaalu is 100% at fault for this riot--but that's not what the Fashion Club needs to worry about at this moment.

Episode 31: Bad Day in Balmora.

Chapter 3

Daria stood on the roof of J’dash’s house as ribbons of black smoke rose from the streets of the Commercial District. Adobe didn’t burn easily, of course, but the contents of the homes and the stands in the street certainly did. The smoke joined the swirling ash and grit, coagulating into a noxious haze above the tightly packed city.

Watching it felt like watching the end of the world.

Jane and J’dash were catching up in the shop below, the old Khajiit glad to see his former tenant. He’d looked older than Daria remembered, his movements slower and somehow more painful. Daria had excused herself after the required niceties, wanting to keep an eye on things.

Things kept getting worse, so far as she could tell. She turned her gaze north, to where her family lived. No smoke there, not yet anyway.

Labor Town seemed almost normal. Porters and scrib jerky sellers carried on as usual. She supposed they couldn’t afford to take a day off.

She felt safe, at least. Maybe because the little square of adobe she stood on, and the squat apartment perched upon it, had been the place for so many of her best memories from the past few years. Here, she and Jane had blocked out the world and created their own, one of shared references and sharp wit, refined and pure.

Part of her still wished that Jane hadn’t moved.

A familiar black-clad figure stepped into view on the street, her pallid face smudged and her shapeless dress tattered at the edges. It was Andra: Thieves Guild member and Reachman. Or Reachwoman if gendered ethnonyms applied. If anyone knew what might be going on in Balmora, it’d be her.

“Andra?” Daria called out.

Andra looked up, using her hand to shield her eyes from the sun. “Oh, I remember you. Good to see you’re breathing.”

“For the time being, anyway. Uh, I just got back into Balmora after being gone for a month.”

“You picked a weird time to come back.”

“Yeah. Could you fill me in on what’s going on and what might happen? Or do I need to do another favor for you first?”

Andra smiled. “Nah, stuff related to the protest is public info. But come down from the roof. I don’t think I need to explain why I don’t like shouting out my conversations.”

Daria nodded, and hurried down the staircase to reach street level. A bearded Nord hovered near Andra, his brown cloak not quite hiding the sheathed sword on his belt.

“Don’t worry, he’s one of ours,” Andra said. “You’re here on your own?”

“Jane’s inside. She’s back visiting.”

Andra nodded. “Got it. So what do you want to know?”

“How bad do you think this will get?”

Andra shrugged. “Me? If it can get worse, it probably will. The guild's playing it cool. Some of us know what it’s like to be poor, so we get why people are protesting, but guild business comes first.”

“Business in this case being…?”

“Making sure our people and our bases of operations stay safe. We’re not worried about the protestors going after us, though. What worries us is that we’ve seen a lot of known Camonna Tong associates at the smaller protests. They’re always riling people up.”

Daria sighed. It did get worse. “What did the guild do to stop them?”

“Apparently, not enough. A lot of poor outlanders and Dunmer are working together to get rid of this tax, and that’s the last thing the CT wants. So, if the protest goes violent, that means the CT can blame it on outlanders, and the Hlaalu will be happy to buy that story. Easier to blame outlanders than to stop squeezing poor people, I guess.”

“I take it you don’t have much faith that the guards will manage it well?” Daria said.

She scoffed. “Come on. You’ve seen what losers they are. We also know for a fact there are CT members and sympathizers in the Hlaalu guards.”

“So, the Balmora riot’s another murky, intrigue-ridden mess caused and worsened by major economic, political, and sociological factors. I have come home.”

“Heh, see? Just another day. Anyway, me and Nils here better get back to patrol.”

“Wait,” Daria said, “how far do you think the violence will spread?”

“What, scared your nice little middle-class home will be next?”

“Given that it’s my home, I do have a certain vested interest in it.”

“If the guards know what they’re doing, they’ll keep it at the southern Commercial District. But you already know how good these guards are…”

Andra and Nils left, leaving Daria alone in the street. Maybe, she thought, it’d be wise to head home and check on her family. With any luck, her parents would be distracted enough with the chaos of the protest that they wouldn’t come down on her too hard. Since the violence was already there, she might as well leverage it.

She wondered how Quinn would react. Probably give her an earful about not marrying into Vvardenfell's richest family.

Except Quinn wasn’t home. She was at Drenlyn Academy, in the middle of the southern Commercial District, where the fighting was thickest.

"Oh, no," she uttered.

How could she have been so careless? She’d blithely walked past the danger, so focused on her parents she’d forgotten about her sister. Her heart pounded, and she pressed her fingers to her temples, trying to think, trying to focus. She ought to have gone straight to Drenlyn the moment she saw trouble.

Panicking solved nothing. Not that this kept her from panicking, not entirely. Fear roiled under her skin, a scream locked in bone and muscle. But she had to control herself. Quinn needed Daria: calm, analytical, and cool-headed.

First thing first: tell Jane.

Daria opened the junk shop door and strode inside, where Jane chatted with J’dash over a cup of tea.

“… Trent’s doing a little better,” Jane said. “He’s mostly playing in Vivec. Might be a while before he travels again, but he says he’ll do it when he’s ready.”

“Jane? I need to go,” Daria said.

Jane looked up from her tea. “Go where? You want front row seats to the riot?”

“A riot happening right around Drenlyn Academy. Where Quinn is.”

Jane’s eyes went wide. “Oh gods! I didn't know that she’d be there today! I’m so sorry—”

“We both lost track of time. But I need to make sure she’s okay.”

“Sure, but you don’t think I’d let you go there alone, do you?”

“This isn’t your fight, Jane.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. J’dash, do you still have that club?”

The Khajiit nodded. “J’dash does. But Jane should be careful. Jane should not seek a fight.”

“I won’t, I promise. I just need a little insurance in case a fight comes looking for me.”

J’dash stood up and hobbled over to his counter. Bending down with painstaking slowness, he reached inside and took out a club that he carried, with both hands, over to Jane.

“It gives J’dash great shame to let Jane go alone. But Khajiit has stiff joints, and can no longer strike with sure swiftness.”

“It’s okay, J’dash,” Jane said. “You’ve spent years looking out for me. I can look out for myself.”

Then she turned to Daria. “Let’s make sure Quinn’s okay.”



*********



Thank the Divines for Jane, Daria thought, as the two of them walked back to the Foreigners’ Span. Daria had been in dangerous situations before, and the one hard truth she’d learned is that survival often came down, at least partially, to luck. What might have happened to her if Johanna had cast the wrong spell when dueling her rival? Or if Dimartani hadn’t been quite fast enough to defend her from the cliff racers?

Jane didn’t know much about fighting, but it never hurt to have a friend. Her breezy confidence lightened the load. Here was Jane, smart and quick and a survivor. But that was only the image. The real Jane was more complicated. Still, sometimes, an image was sufficient.

Daria needed that projection of quiet certainty because of all the fears eating away at her brain that very moment. Quinn reigned supreme within a very specific social scene, one supported by the vast infrastructure of laws, customs, materiel, and personnel stretching across Tamriel. Take that away and she was a kid, vulnerable and oh-so-easy to hurt.

She couldn’t let that happen. If something did happen to Quinn, that was it. Daria really would have to seclude herself in some monastery to Stendarr because that’s where she would belong. For all time.

They reached the Odai, its waters dark and murky before the wall of smoke in the Commercial District. Overturned carts and broken crates littered the riverbank on the other side. She didn’t see any fighting, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t still going on.

“Hey, Daria,” Jane said. “Isn’t that Treads-on-Ferns and Jeval on the bridge?”

Sure enough, the two were hurrying across to Labor Town. They might have the answers she needed.

She prayed those answers were the ones she wanted to hear.

Daria ran to meet them. No surprise that Jeval abandoned Quinn right when things got bad. Her suitors had always been trash. She’d expected more from Treads, though. Another example of Quinn’s terrible judgment, and by all the Divines, Daria hoped that judgment hadn’t taken too great a toll.

“Where’s my sister?” Daria demanded.

The two of them slowed to a stop, disbelief on Jeval’s face and an expression Daria didn’t know how to read on Treads’s.

“Daria? When did you—” Jeval started.

“I’m asking the questions! Is she still at Drenlyn? Is Drenlyn being attacked?”

“I don’t know,” Treads said, her nostrils flaring. “We got separated from her. She’s not at Drenlyn, though.”

“Why not?” Daria asked.

“Because Lli closed the gates the moment things turned messy. She’s spent the last month hiring security goons for this kind of thing, and now she’s gone wild. Not even Satheri could get inside.”

“Some guard guy told us that everyone’s being evacuated to High Town,” Jeval said. “Quinn was gonna take us there, but me and Treads got separated from the rest.”

Or maybe they’d run off. Daria wasn’t sure she believed that High Town’s residents would share their space so willingly, either. “Then why are you going to Labor Town?”

Treads’s pushed her head forward, the scaly edges of her mouth peeling back to reveal sharp white teeth. “Because the Commercial District is a mess right now! Who the hell are you to interrogate us like this?”

“Seriously!” Jeval said. “Look, Daria, we tried to stay with Quinn. But it’s crazy over there. We were going to regroup here and get to St. Roris Bridge. That way we can cross close to High Town and meet her there or something.”

Daria stood for a moment in the hot sun, taking this all in.

“Sorry,” Daria said. “Sometimes my older sister instinct rises up. I, uh, shouldn’t have assumed the worst.”

Treads nodded. “I get that. I have a little brother. My family lives here in Labor Town, but none of them are home. My dad’s working at the fort today, and my mom took my brother to work with her over in the Commercial District. So yeah, I’m hoping they’re also in High Town.”

“Quinn’s not alone. She’s with Satheri and Tiphannia,” Jeval explained.

“That does not make me feel better,” Daria said.

Jane finally stepped in. “It looks like we’re all headed to the same place. Maybe a team-up’s in order?”

“Cool, strength in numbers,” Jeval agreed. “Should be a straight shot north from here.”

Daria looked up along the river. This side of the Odai stood quiet. But a new pillar of smoke oozed into the sky above the northern Commercial District. The violence had spread.

“It’s a straight shot for now,” Daria said. “We’d better take it while we can.”

Musical Outro - Go With the Flow, by Queens of the Stone Age

[Acadian]

The Great Balmoran Tax Riots continue. Glad Daria and Jane made it safely to J’Dash’s place and that the old Khajiit is okay. Uh-oh, Daria is going to leave the relative safety of their small adobe sanctuary to venture out in search of Quinn. I do believe Daria overestimates her ability to safely help Quinn and that she also underestimates Quinn’s ability to survive. But so it is with family and sisters. Despite the insulting banter that normally characterizes conversation between Daria and Quinn, the last few episodes have clearly shown how much the two sisters care about each other.

And like the shining star she is, Jane volunteers once again to accompany her friend out of the frying pan and into the fire.

This riot storyline is getting to be quite the nailbiter as things in Balmors seem to be getting worse. And the Tong’s involvement certainly doesn’t help.

[SubRosa]

I went back and found your post with the Map of Balmora. It helps to keep oriented while reading these current episodes.

I like that you are inserting lore events into the plot of the story. Of course a really big lore event is coming in a few years that all of the characters involved would prefer not be inserted...

This is Daria's first end of the world. Well, at least she is getting experience for what is coming next. In a decade this will be her

I spent the day learning about the Molly Maguires on the Cool People Who Did Cool Stuff podcast, so I am up for good old direct action! Free Balmora!

But Daria would probably rather Balmora be freed without her house burning down. And without a rock getting surgically implanted in her skull. Real life is real messy, that is for sure!

I do like the added political intrigue you put in with agent provocateurs deliberately riling up the crowd. That is so very standard thanks to COINTELPRO that it would be very unusual if there were not undercover agents agitating for escalating the violence, in order to generate an excuse to crack down harder.

Uh oh, Quinn. Daria's sudden realization that she might be in the middle of things provides our heroine with her call to action. Time for Daria to start her Hero's Journey! Well, in the very least go into the heart of the storm to rescue her sister. Now we are talking, bring a club Jane.

A piece of luck, with Treads-on-Jevvie on the bridge. And Daria, being Daria, assumes the worst. Wow, she actually apologized though. That is... actual character growth for her. Good on you D! Maybe she did learn something from that whole dark age she's lived through recently.

Let's just hope that Napoleon is not around those bridges. A whiff of grapeshot is the last thing Daria and company need...

[Renee]

I notice Quinn is wearing one of her mom's hats. Seems she doesn't want to get one of her own hats messed up! Hmm, they're having a meeting. Is Daria here, yet? Doesn't seem so. I bet this'll be a surprise.

Treads-on-Ferns has gills. I recently learned this about Argonians, that they have gills, which means they can't be considered pure reptiles. They're more like a cross between a reptile, amphibian, and a person.

Bonemold armor DOES look kind of gross! Gosh, this is true! Hadn't really thought about it, but it's true. I mean, those who get suited up in some bonemold are wearing actual inner parts of .... some undead?? Hmm. Not sure how that works.

Gosh this is weird. Magistrate Lli won't let her own students through. That b1tch really is delusional.

Yeesh, stuff is on fire, what the hell? 🔥 Does this scene correspond to anything which happens on the show? Does Lawndale ever deal with some sort of riot? Funny thing, I was living in Lawndale when the riots of '92 occurred. I saw the news mid-afternoon, got all freaked out, drove up to Palos Verdes where it was nice & safe. Actually watched the city burn to the north from my vantage point. Lawndale didn't get looted like South Central and all those areas north, but I think Hawthorne (town immediately north of Lawndale) did.

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

Not sure if it's a side effect of getting older or what, but I am becoming slightly worn out with all the special events extravaganzas So it'd be nice to see something grounded and down-to-Earth

You said it right. Sometimes it's good to watch something which is more ordinary. Every one in that film seems like they're just living their normal, everyday life. There aren't any bombs going off or CGIs causing havoc, everyone is dealing with situations which are more ordinary, yet these situations and people are quirky enough to be interesting. Which sort of ties into the vibe of Outlanders, especially with characters like Trent, and Daria herself.

Okay, got it. So it's not an ash storm. Yeah, that makes sense; there aren't ash storms in that part of the world.

I saw the Santa Ana winds on the day I left California, driving my little pickup. Clinton had just gotten elected, I was listening to the radio as I headed east. 🇲🇾 I remember driving through Riverside & San Bernadino (probably on the 10 or the 210), and all the sudden these winds just came blowing down the hillside *WOOSH!* blowing all this dust all across the road! I thought my little truck might get swiped right over the crest!

This post has been edited by Renee: Aug 12 2023, 02:18 PM

[WellTemperedClavier]

@Acadian - Glad you're liking the revolt story line. I wanted to go out with something intense, and it also let me tie into a pretty obscure bit of TES lore.

@SubRosa - Glad the map is helpful! I actually screwed up the locations of the guild offices slightly; they shouldn't be parallel with the river. Not sure how I made that mistake. Oh well.

And yes, there are some pretty heavy things in Tamriel's future. The epilogue shows how the characters fare over the next few centuries. While some events like the Oblivion Crisis happen a bit differently than they do in the game (since I'm using older lore), they do still happen.

I took some historical inspiration for these riots, to be sure. You just know that the Camonna Tong would be amplifying the chaos. They offer a lot of plausible deniability for the more xenophobic elements of Great House Hlaalu.

Daria's on-guard due to everything that's happened. But like you said, she's learned a lot over the past few months.

Probably a lot of wannabe Napoleons here, but none who are the real deal.

@Renee - I was frustrated at how little information there actually is on Argonians. But yeah, I did know about the gills (since they can breathe underwater in Morrowind, at least). They're definitely warm-blooded. They're genderfluid (having male and female phases--this was in Morrowind but I heard ESO also mentioned it). I could never get a solid answer on how long they live, so I decided they can live up to 150 years (this will become relevant in the epilogue).

Yeah, bonemold does look gross. And its creation is pretty gross as well.

https://en.uesp.net/wiki/Morrowind:Bone This book describes it.

Lli's a paranoid weirdo. I actually slightly regret how I handled this, since I don't think I built it up enough across the story. Sure, she's corrupt and hypocritical, but that's not quite the same. The show repeatedly shows Li spending school funds on bizarre security measures, so I think I relied a little too much on the show's presentation without doing the groundwork. As a result, it feels kind of abrupt.

Lawndale does get a very minor riot in the first season, mostly off-screen. There's also a hurricane in the third season.

I do remember the riots, though I was too young to understand what was going on. It was pretty alarming, especially with all the stores being closed.

And glad that you think Outlanders gets that feel across. It's a big part of why I wrote it. I'm pretty sure I already mentioned it on this thread at some point, but one of the things that gets me interested in a fictional setting is whether or not I can imagine living there as a normal person. It's one of the elements about Laprima's story I quite like, as well.

(Granted, Daria's probably a little too high up the socioeconomic ladder to be "normal", even if she hates to admit this. But her concerns are typically pretty mundane by Tamrielic standards.)

The Santa Anas aren't fun. There's a great line from a Raymond Chandler novel that describes them well.

“There was a desert wind blowing that night. It was one of those hot dry Santa Anas that come down through the mountain passes and curl your hair and make your nerves jump and your skin itch. On nights like that every booze party ends in a fight. Meek little wives feel the edge of the carving knife and study their husbands' necks. Anything can happen. You can even get a full glass of beer at a cocktail lounge.”

Episode 31: Bad Day in Balmora

Chapter 4


“Are we really… gonna go… to High Town… like this? We’re all… grimy… and stuff…”

“Yes, we are,” Quinn said, “but so’s everyone else! And we’ll still look better because of our strong fashion sense.”

Quinn said it to make everyone feel better, but was grime what worried Tiphannia? This whole day had been a nightmare!

Quinn was sure she’d seen a dead guy in one of the streets, facedown in a pool of blood. She’d pretended not to see it, and when they passed by the body she talked extra loud about why veils were a great way to hide acne breakouts (not that that ever happened to her) so Satheri and Tiphannia didn’t get scared.

But who was going to keep Quinn from getting scared?

Maybe that guy hadn’t been dead. He’d only been hurt or something. She wanted that to be true, because she didn’t know where Jeval and Treads were, and she had to believe they were okay.

They’d been right next to her, too. Then they'd all stumbled into this big fight with stones flying and had to run for cover. Once it cleared, Treads and Jeval were gone.

“What are we going to do?” Satheri had asked.

Quinn wanted to shriek at the top of her lungs. Get mom or dad or Daria to fix it. But they weren’t around. She only had Tiphannia and Satheri, the poor girls scared out of their wits.

“Guys, Treads and Jeval are both smart. And you know Jeval’s a tough fighter after that arena thing. I’m sure they’ll be in High Town.”

“Oh gosh, I hope so,” Satheri said, grabbing at the fabric of her dress and looking down at her feet.

“Uh uh, Satheri! Don’t pull at the fabric! You’ll wrinkle it,” Quinn warned. Better Satheri worry about that then all the terrible things happening around them. “Hey, let’s see if we can beat them there.”

Make a game of it. The way dad used to when he took her and Daria out to the hills around Stirk to teach them about swords and stuff. That way, it wouldn’t be so scary for her friends, and maybe she could pretend, too. Pretend not to notice the way the streets got all empty as if the whole city had run away.

Run away to High Town, she corrected. Where everyone would be hanging out and stuff, and there’d be handsome rich guys who’d totally be all over her and wishing they’d been there to protect her.

Quinn thought about checking her home, but decided to keep going. All the bad stuff was happening in the south part of town and she wanted to get as far away as possible. And the nerve of Magistrate Lli! Ooh, mom would have a few words with her, that was for sure.

“We’re almost there!” Satheri said.

One of the big stairways leading up to High Town was up ahead. “Okay, girls! Last-minute checkups. Tiphannia you got this little strand of hair sticking out on your left. Satheri, smooth out your dress.”

“You’re amazing, Muthsera Morgendorffer!” Satheri said, smoothing out her dress as instructed.

Two guards waited at the base of the stairway, the first she’d seen in a while. She guessed most were busy with the protest, or whatever.

“Hi!” she said. “I’m Quinn Morgendorffer, and my friends here are Tiphannia Blumius and Satheri Roweni.”

Always let them know the family names. Especially Satheri’s family since the Rowenis were loaded.

“Anyway, our families are up in High Town, and we’re here to meet them. You guys are doing a great job, by the way—”

“Sorry,” one of the guards said. “We can’t let anyone in.”

Satheri squeaked in terror. Ugh, why did this guy have to be a jerk?

Quinn smiled and fluttered her eyelashes. “Oh, there must have been some kind of misunderstanding. My mom’s a big lawyer, and I'm sure Muthsera Roweni—”

“Nope. Orders from above. The evacuation window already closed.”

Closed? Closed? Quinn clenched her teeth behind her smile. “But it’s dangerous! You wouldn’t leave a bunch of innocent girls out here, would you? Did you like, not hear me when I said my friend here is from the Roweni family?”

The second guard said something to the first one in a low voice. The first one nodded. “Okay, Satheri can come in. She’s Dunmer.”

Satheri gasped. “But my friends have to go in, too!”

“Outlanders are the ones causing the trouble. We’d be stupid to let more of them inside.”

Satheri’s lips trembled like she was going to cry. “Muthsera Morgendorffer… what do I do?”

Quinn looked to Satheri and then to Tiphannia. Okay, she was the steward, so the club had to come first. Satheri should go ahead. But they’d done so much to get here! All that and these stupid guards wouldn’t let them in? What was wrong with this town?

“It’s okay, Satheri,” Quinn said, and she had to make herself stay calm because she wanted to scream at the guards. How was this fair? But she couldn’t force Satheri to stay. The poor girl scared so easily. Tiphannia did too, but it usually took way longer for the scare to register.

Now, Satheri was full-on ugly crying. “Are you sure? You can tell me to stay with you, and I will. But I’m so scared…”

“No, don’t be!” Quinn hugged her friend. An idea came to her. “Maybe you can get up there and tell—”

“No!” Satheri shouted. She pulled away and then fell to her knees, grabbing the sides of her head like she was going to go into a fit. “I can’t do this! I can’t let you keep being so nice to me when I’ve been so horrible to you.”

“Huh?”

“I’m so sorry, Muthsera Morgendorffer! I burned the heathers but I didn’t know what it meant, I swear I didn’t! It was Synda, she made me and I thought they were just a bunch of flowers because they are, like really pretty flowers! But she said you’d hate me if you ever found out, so she kept making me do things or else she’d tell you and then I’d be all alone…”

What was Satheri talking about? Something about heathers and Synda and burning? Quinn watched as Satheri went on and on.

“I never meant to hurt you, Quinn, and you know I love outlanders and don’t think they’re bad, I didn’t know what the heathers meant! I swear to ALMSIVI that I didn’t!”

“Satheri! It’s okay. Whatever you did, it’s okay.” Quinn knelt down next to Satheri and put her hands on her shoulders. “You’re part of the Fashion Club, okay? And Synda’s a jerk and no one likes her anymore. So that’s all like ancient history and stuff.”

Satheri gasped. “You mean it? It’s okay?”

“Of course!” Quinn didn’t quite know what she was forgiving Satheri for, but it seemed to help.

“Then I’m staying!” She spun around to face the guards. “I won’t abandon Quinn! She’s my muthsera and always will be! You can take High Town and shove it!”

“Then go burn with the other outlanders,” the guard said.

Satheri jumped up and down, yelling like she was five years old, and it was kind of creepy.

“Okay, okay,” Quinn said, loud enough to get Satheri to stop. “Let’s go to my house. We can hang out there until things go back to normal.”

“So… we aren’t… going… to High Town?” Tiphannia asked.

Quinn sighed. “Not yet. Come on, my place. We’ll talk fashion and stuff.”

She hoped that’s all they’d have to do. Because if things got bad, she didn't think the guards would help.



*********



Helen Morgendorffer stood in one of the tents set up in the plaza in front of the Hlaalu Council Manor, roasting in the hot air, scared to death for her daughters, and baffled as to what the hell was going on.

A good number of her peers and neighbors milled around in the square, or found shelter in the stifling pavilions. The guards had practically yanked her and Jake out of their home, citing some kind of riot. She’d thought it an overreaction until she saw the grisly pall of smoke over the southern Commercial District.

Right where Quinn was.

“Oh, Talos,” she whispered. “Watch over my daughters, and I swear I’ll actually be genuine when I thank you in the future!”

She again looked through the crowd for any sign of Quinn or one of her close friends. A few of Quinn’s Drenlyn classmates were there—Jolda, Briltasi, one of those boys always after her attention—but none of them had seen her.

Maybe Daria was better off with the Sloans. Somehow, that made Helen feel worse.

“Jake—” she started.

Her husband was drinking from a waterskin. “Trying to stay hydrated, Helen! A Nord like me can’t think in all this heat!”

“Jake!”

He flinched and dropped the waterskin.

“Have you done anything to find our daughter?” she demanded.

“I’ve been looking, Helen! But I don’t think she’s here.”

Helen walked to the nearest guard, whose face was hidden behind the slit-like visor of his helmet. She hated the way the bonemold armor looked. Talking to guards always made her feel like she was talking to some daedric abomination.

“Excuse me, but are the guards evacuating any more people? No one’s arrived since we have, and there’s plenty of room for more in these tents you’ve set up.”

“The evacuation’s still going on so far as I know, ma’am.”

“So why hasn’t anyone else arrived?” Helen pressed. “Don’t you think that’s a bit peculiar?”

“I’m sure they’re doing the best they can, but the city is in chaos.”

Somehow, his calm infuriated her. “My daughter’s somewhere in that city! You can’t expect me to stay here and wait while she’s in danger!”

“Ma’am, I assure you we’re doing everything possible.”

“What if I go back out into the city?” Jake said. “I used to be in the Fighters Guild, I can take care of myself. Kept my sword arm in shape…”

“We’re not letting anyone out,” the guard said, frustration edging into his voice. “Great House Hlaalu is letting you wait here at their sufferance, and you ought to be more grateful.”

“Grateful!” Jake exclaimed, drawing his arm back.

Helen grabbed him in the nick of time and pulled him away. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m trying to find Quinn! I’m scared, Helen. We came all the way here to Morrowind and it all went wrong! We already lost Daria and now we might lose Quinn, too! What kind of father am I?”

His face collapsed. He did want to help, he always did. But sometimes, you couldn’t solve things simply, the way he wanted to. So she reached out and hugged him.

“It’s all right, Jake. Quinn’s a smart girl. She’ll know to come here, guard or no guard.”

She hoped. By all the Divines, she hoped.



*********



Thank the gods that the house was okay!

Quinn fell right into the chair at her mother’s desk. All she wanted was a nice hot bath. Maybe with a manicure, too, and one of those deep scalp cleansings with those alchemical hydrations that made hair more lustrous.

In fact, she’d have been fine with a plain old bath.

“Thank you so much, Quinn,” Satheri said. “You’re such a good friend.”

“Sure,” Quinn said. She’d gotten the Fashion Club to safety. Some of it, anyway. Oh, where were Jeval and Treads? She had officially made the Morgendorffer house the unofficial Fashion Club HQ, so hopefully they remembered that and came.

She should have guided them, though.

“My hair… is so… messy…” Tiphannia droned.

“Well, now you can fix it,” Quinn said.

Looking around at the office, she realized mom and dad must not have had any time to pack. The place looked the way it had that morning, stuffed full of big smelly books, scrolls, and inkwells. All of mom’s cases, arguments, notes—the way she earned money—lying around.

Not to mention all the other important stuff in the house. Like her dresses! Oh gods, her dresses! If the fighting spread here, they could lose everything.

Quinn stood up and jogged upstairs, out onto the balcony. The balcony faced west, so she stood at the edge and stuck her head out past mom and dad’s room to look south. Still a lot of smoke back around Drenlyn, but it didn’t seem any nearer.

Except she smelled it, like it was right next to her. Maybe from the wind. It was blowing harder now, dust and ash and embers swirling around and getting everywhere.

One of the embers drifted to her feet, red and smoldering.

Dad always said the neat thing about adobe is that it didn’t catch fire, so they didn’t have to worry about that. Then mom said that they did have to worry, because there was a lot of flammable stuff inside the house, and an adobe house could collapse if a fire got hot enough.

Where was the smoke coming from? She found out a moment later when she saw the icky black smoke worming its way out from a window a few houses down.

But how? There wasn’t anything going on here! Except she did hear some chants in the distance. Another angry mob? Or, maybe, since mom and dad hadn’t had time to gather their things, the people in that house had been taken away while they were cooking something, and the fire they’d made for tea or whatever had gotten out of control.

What was she supposed to do? High Town was closed. Moonmoth Legion Fort was too far away. Maybe they could go to the temple, but that was more of a Dunmer place.

No, she decided. Her house was safe for right now. But it might not stay that way. If danger came, she had to be ready.

Quinn walked back down to the office, where Tiphannia looked into her little brass mirror and brushed her hair, and Satheri stood around.

“Hey,” Quinn said, “so things are okay right now, but I don’t know for how long. There’s like a bunch of fires and the wind’s carrying embers and stuff.”

“Oh no! You don’t think it’ll spread here, do you?” Satheri put her hands on her cheeks like she was about to panic.

“I’m sure it won’t!” Quinn said. “But in case it does, could you guys help me get a few things? Then we can check on your houses, since you both live close by.”

“This dry air… is messing up… my hair…” Tiphannia said, looking at the mirror.

Quinn was starting to wish she’d gotten separated from Tiphannia and Satheri instead of Jeval and Treads. But no, Jeval and Treads could take care of themselves. Better for her to be where she was.

“Anything you want, Muthsera Morgendorffer! We can help you pick which dresses you take with you!"

Satheri was so sweet, though. Quinn brightened up, already figuring out which ones she needed most. Ugh, she needed all of them, but now she had to make a choice. Maybe she should get something of mom’s, too? Looking good mattered to lawyers.

Mom’s papers! If mom lost those, the family would be in trouble. But what about the dresses? What was she supposed to do? As head of the Fashion Club—soon-to-be Fashion Guild, if they survived this, and worked hard and all that—she had to look her best.

But it’d be way worse if mom couldn’t work.

“Actually,” Quinn said, almost not believing what she was about to say, “don’t worry about the dresses.”

Even Tiphannia gasped at that one.

“Help me gather up all these papers. My mom needs them.”

“But… Quinn… you need to look, like… fashionable…”

“I know, Tiphannia! But I know how to look fashionable in anything, almost. If my mom loses her clients though, I’m in big trouble. Tiphannia, get all the books on that top shelf. You can put them in a sack or something. Satheri, go through the papers in that small desk over there and take the ones that have a big red wax stamp. As for me, I’ll sort through the case files.”

As the Fashion Club got to work, the smell of smoke grew stronger.

Musical Outro - Take Me Out, by Franz Ferdinand

[Acadian]

Once again, in her own peculiar way, Quinn shows her mettle and manages to get her charges to her home. Wow, those guard must take ashhole lessons for Magistrate Lli. Not granting sanctuary to three unarmed young ladies!

So both parents did make it to safety, only to be understandably fretting about Quinn. At least they think Daria is safe.

[SubRosa]

Oh no, they are grimy and stuff? They can't go to high town like that! What will people think? That is soo Tiphanna.

Quinn is still coping, in spite of the grime, and in spite of the dead body. Again, she is showing a lot of maturity here, thinking of everyone else, even as she wishes someone else could be the one doing that. But she is stepping up where she is needed, which is what counts.

Wow, really guards? Of course none of their behavior strike me as being unbelievable. I am sure they would all be out hunting dragons if they could too, and they only missed that takedown of the Dark Brotherhood sanctuary because they were sick that day, yeah right, that was it. *sigh* This is why Blood Raven despises the police. Well, one reason.

Poor Satheri finally cracked, understandable, given the circumstances. And it all finally comes out. Good for her to finally get that off her chest, even if it was during the worst possible moment. Then again, she is doing it because this is the worst possible moment. Once again Quinn shows that she is cut from a different cloth than Sydna with her reaction, which is forgiving and supportive, even though she has no idea what she is forgiving. That is some pretty solid Homie energy

I love Helen's prayer to Talos, she's so much of a lawyer!

That's right Jake, show him how grateful your knuckles are when they meet that guard's face!

Oh no, save mom's legal papers, or the dresses. Who can make decisions like that! I love how keep it grounded in the comedy that spawned all this.

[WellTemperedClavier]

@Acadian - Quinn's developed a much better sense of priorities over the past few years.

@SubRosa - Hey, you gotta look your best! Especially when there's a crisis.

Yeah, the guards here are not great. Kavon's at least genuinely well-intentioned, which sadly probably makes him one of the best in Balmora.

I figured this would be a good time for Satheri to admit everything. And for Quinn to be kind of baffled as to what she's admitting. Mostly goes to show Synda's nastiness and how fragile Satheri really is (as well as Quinn's magnanimity).

Episode 31: Breaking Balmora

Chapter 5

Daria crossed St. Roris Bridge with Jane, Jeval, and Treads behind her, all the while trying not to think too far ahead. Plans tended to fall apart in disasters. Any move plotted three steps ahead would be out of step by the time she got that far.

If she got that far.

So, she forced herself to think smaller and take things one step a time. They’d returned to the Commercial District, now almost entirely consumed by chaos. Pillars of smoke rose all through the neighborhood, like black bars twisting around lofty High Town.

They’d reached the end of the bridge, with St. Roris Square straight ahead, and beyond that a stairway to High Town. A quartet of guards stood at the base of the stairs. Even if they let people like Daria through, what about Treads?

As she pondered, a dozen or so young Dunmer entered the square from one of the alleys, cheering and howling like students on break. Their clothes weren’t rich but weren’t ragged either, cared for and tailored to their bodies. Some carried sticks and lit torches, while others passed around clay bottles from which they took swigs.

“Hey, Daria? Remember what you told us about what Andra told you?” Jane asked.

The Dunmer up ahead certainly looked the part of Camonna Tong. “I was thinking the same thing.”

She might be overreacting. Maybe they were a bunch of dumb kids loving the tumult. Either way, they posed a danger to outlanders. Nor did Daria trust the guards.

“Change of plans,” she said. “We’ll go around St. Roris Square.”

“Good idea,” Treads said.

The four of them turned left and struck south past the rows of riverfront houses. Daria couldn’t tell if anyone was inside them or not, the windows shuttered to the outside world as the sky swirled with sullen reds and grays, like a nightmare version of Celegorn’s abstract paintings.

Daria stopped at a narrow passage that she knew led near her house. She wondered if mom had been given the time to take her work with her. Leaving all that in an empty house struck her as dangerous on a day like this.

“Would it be all right if we stopped by at my place? It’s this way,” she said, pointing down the alley.

“Shouldn’t we get to Quinn first?” Jeval asked.

“It won’t take long,” Daria said. “Besides, if Quinn couldn't get to High Town, she probably went home."

“Makes sense,” Jane said.

Jeval grumbled his assent, and they entered the narrow space single-file.

A cloaked figure turned the corner at the other end and ran toward them. The runner wasn’t very big, the cloak almost comically oversized on the wearer’s small frame. A pursuer, a human woman in a guar-hide jerkin and with a knife in her hand, careened around the corner a half-second later.

Daria jumped to the side and pressed herself against the rough wall to make room. The runner brushed past Daria, only to lose footing and tumble, crashing to the ground with the tell-tale jingle of coins.

The pursuer wasted no time. In seconds, she pressed her knee on the runner’s back. Grabbing a fistful of dark hair through the hood, she put the knife’s edge against their throat. The pursuer chuckled. Then she looked up and saw the people around her. Her hard eyes turned calculating.

“This girl’s got bags of cash. But hey, I can share with you all,” she said. “I found her, so I get the biggest portion. But we can all walk away a bit richer.”

The girl beneath her groaned. Daria’s exhausted brain tried to think of a response. She was so close to finding her family, after all the fear and loneliness and frustration of the past few months, and now she had to deal with some random mugging?

“No way!” Jeval cried.

“Yeah, we’re not in the stick-up business,” Jane said.

The woman frowned, still with a firm grip on her victim’s hair. “I’m serious. She’s got bags of septims. Come on, no one’s going to know. Or I’ll take it all myself.”

Daria hesitated. She eyed the knife. The mugger wouldn’t have to do much to cut the girl’s throat. Disarmament had to be the first step.

“You know what? Go ahead and take it,” Daria said, using her most callous tone.

“Daria?” Jane sounded incredulous. “It’s—”

The mugger giggled. “What, you kidding me? No one turns down a score like this unless they’ve got something else going on.”

“Yes, that something else being a good standing in society, and not wanting to be accessories to your crime,” Daria said. She burned to do something, but that knife was one motion away from slicing the girl’s jugular.

“Okay, you keep your nose clean. I get that.” The mugger whispered something into her victim’s ear, put the knife away and pressed the girl’s face down into the street. With that, she started working her over. Lifting the cloak revealed bulging bags of what Daria guessed were coins.

They could leave. None of them owed this random person anything, and no legal obligation bound them. But there remained the weight of her friends’ expectations. What was she supposed to do, though? This woman had a knife, and Daria didn’t know much about fighting.

Daria thought back to all the times she’d been helpless and saved by others. Johanna and Link in Sadrith Mora, Dimartani in Balmora and again in Ald’ruhn. Jane, who’d saved her from a life of isolation with a single friendly comment in that dark classroom almost two-and-a-half years ago.

“Oh hell,” Daria muttered.

She stepped forward as if moving past the scene, but as she did, she looked at her companions and raised three fingers on her right hand (to relay the idea of doing something on the count of three), and made a striking motion with her left.

Jane nodded as Daria counted down.

But Jeval struck on the count of two. He kicked and caught the mugger square in the ribs. Jane leaped into action and slammed her with the stick, while Treads grabbed the victim by the arms and pulled her away.

Well, it hadn’t gone quite according to plan, but they’d succeeded. The mugger lay against the wall, her eyes wide and in shock. She’d dropped her knife in the scuffle, and Jane had pinned it to the ground with a booted foot, leaning down to take it for herself.

“What’d you do that for? Hey, I found her first—”

“Give back whatever money you stole from her and get the hell out of here,” Daria said.

The mugger scowled. “Do you know how much I—”

“No. And I don’t care.”

Her eyes locked with Daria’s, and she pointed at her former victim. “Come on, this girl’s a Dunmer. You and me, we’re Imperials. This is our Empire—”

“Given that none of the people with me are Imperials,” Daria said, “I’m inclined to suspect you didn’t think this argument through.”

Jane smiled and tapped the tip of her club on the flagstones.

The realization of defeat settled in on the mugger’s face. She tossed the two bags of coins she’d taken on the ground before standing up, eyes darting between Daria and Jane. “Could I have my knife back?” she asked.

“Did you seriously expect that to work?” Daria replied.

The mugger shrugged. “Worth a shot.”

With that, she ran away. Daria watched her go, wanting to make sure she made good on her promise of leaving.

“Daria?” Jane’s voice came, with a warning tone. “Maybe you should take a look at who you rescued.”

Because nothing could ever be simple. “Yeah?” Daria said, turning around to see what her friend referred to.

The girl in the cloak was Synda. Tears streamed from her crimson eyes as she glared at Daria with undisguised hatred.

“How the hell do I keep accidentally saving you?” Daria said.

“Save me?” Synda choked out. “You’ve never saved me! At every step, you’ve destroyed me. You humiliated me by taking me to the temple, and you did it again by seducing Tomal.”

“If it makes you feel better,” Jane said, “Daria dumped Tomal.”

Daria kind of wished Jane hadn’t said that, but ignored it.

“Tomal doesn’t matter!” Synda shouted. “You don’t know how much my parents expected of me. Tomal was the only way I could save myself, and you took that away.”

Daria remembered the conversation she’d overheard. How Synda’s mother had been so willing to write Tomal off as a delusion while she consigned her only daughter to a lifetime of penance.

“I may know more than you think,” Daria said, trying to soften her tone. She couldn’t let Synda off the hook, she was vicious and dangerous. But she didn’t look like she could hurt anyone in that state.

“What is this, then?” Synda asked. “Another humiliation? Will you take me back to my parents? They really might kill me this time, you know. Is that what you want to see? I stole their money…”

“What are you trying to do with their money?” Daria asked.

Synda was silent for a moment. “I’m already filthy,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “There is no forgiveness in Morrowind. The ancestors see all my sins and failures. Even Almalexia is silent now. So, I am leaving. I stole some of my mother’s money, but only enough to get me away. She already hates me, and nothing I do can change that.”

Daria nodded. “From what I know of your parents, I wholeheartedly approve of you stealing from them.”

Synda made a bitter laugh. “You’re an Imperial. You people despise our ancient lineages. Know that the Grilvayns will survive, but I cannot be a part of them. Maybe I spent too much time with disobedient outlanders who put themselves above their own families. Your people’s corruption spreads ever farther. Perhaps it will one day devour this land like it’s devoured everything else.”

Daria sighed. “Synda, I don’t like you. You put my sister in danger, and you made me live in fear. Those aren’t things I can easily forgive or forget. But I didn’t save you because I wanted to humiliate you—”

“Yes, you did!” Synda retorted. “Even if you deny it. You did, because why wouldn’t you? You had me at your mercy! Only a fool would pass up a chance to break an enemy and you, Daria, are no fool.”

“I saved you because I have a vestigial sense of right and wrong that sometimes motivates me to be altruistic, often against my better judgment. Beyond that, I don’t care about you very much. My advice is: get going and seek your life elsewhere. You’re a terrible person. It’s not too late for you to become a decent one, but that’s something you have to do on your own.”

Synda stared at her for a long moment. Then, slowly, she gathered her things and stood up.

“I never want to see you again,” Synda whispered.

“The feeling’s mutual.”

With that, she turned around and walked toward the river.

“She’s going to be a pretty easy target with all that cash,” Jane said.

Daria shook her head. “We have too many of our own problems to worry about hers. Come on, let’s get to my place and then to High Town. We’ve spent too much time here.”

“Uh, can someone fill me in on what that was all about?” Jeval asked.

“Yeah, I feel like I missed a few parts to that story,” Treads said.

“You’ll learn to savor the mystery,” Daria replied.

Despite all the problems remaining, Daria felt a certain relief at ending the one that had gnawed at her heels almost since her arrival in Balmora. This relief lasted until she reached the street and saw the smoke and flames coming out from the windows of her home.

Musical Outro - Backatown, by Trombone Shorty

[Acadian]

In your previous episode, Quinn showed how much she’s learned and grown. Wow, this episode it was Daria’s turn. Intervening – at some risk – to save this jingling stranger showed that Daria’s morale compass has become pretty well tuned. Even if she knew up front that the hooded victim was Synda, I’d wager she’d have acted the same. Good job, Daria. And Jane showed the wisdom of bringing that club along. Another upside to this turn of events is that Daria’s little group now boasts a dagger in their meager armaments.

Really good exchange with Synda. Daria nailed it when she said Synda was a terrible person who could possibly redeem herself. I’m afraid I join Daria in expecting Synda will not choose to change though.

Uh-oh, chez Morgendorffer’s in flames!

[SubRosa]

So they managed to skirt the brewing riot, only to run into a mugging. It is a knife against the throat. Daria is not an action hero. But she was taught some magic by Johanna. Surely she's got a firebolt or lightning bolt up her sleeve.

I do appreciate that Daria ultimate motivation for action here was not simply peer pressure, but also her ability to empathize with being a victim herself in the past, and having a genuine desire to pay forward the same help that she was given by others. Dare I even say it, but that is the kind of motivation actual heroes are born of, rather than just thugs.

Well that probably worked out better. At least no one got killed with the kicks and stomps and wrestling.

And its Syd the Squid! Well, a good deed is a good deed, no matter who it is in aid of. I am sure Sydna will neither appreciate or even pay back the favor. But the important thing is that Daria took a stand for what it right over what is convenient. She actually did something in the world, rather than just snark about it from the comfort and safety of her bedroom.

I bet that Sydna stole her parents money and is running away to start a new life with it. Well, good for her I suppose. Her family are - to borrow a modern phrase - gross. They probably won't even notice that Sydna is gone. Their money sure, but the riot can take the blame for that.

Well that at least does put a nail in the coffin of the ever-looming threat that was Sydna. But of course it has now been replaced by the pillars of smoke rising from Casa de Morgendorffer.

[Renee]

Phew, I am zinging with coffee this Saturday morn. ☕ It's why I go all over the place with the comments, sometimes! Anyway, I apologize in advance!

I was frustrated at how little information there actually is on Argonians.

I know, right? This is like when I was researching the effects of skooma in Laprima's story; there just isn't much out there which explains what its personal effects are like (not just its in-game effects, such as Speed getting boosted).

It's a two-way street in a way, though. If there isn't much info written up in lore, we get to fill in those blanks ourselves! -- That being said, the info on whether Argonians are warm or cold-blooded is contradictory. I recently read that there's a lizardwoman who complains about the cold in Solstheim, for instance. Yet, we never actually see lizard folk struggling with the effects of chill in the game, basking on rocks and so on. I still say they're warm-blooded; that they can essentially generate their own body-heat. So there.

Agh. Better not get off-topic. See, it's the coffee!

Yeesh, you are right. The creation of bonemold is pretty gross. Cannibals and such. Yuck.

Lli's a paranoid weirdo. I actually slightly regret how I handled this, since I don't think I built it up enough across the story.

Aw. You're doing a fine job, Clav. No worries. But I know what you mean. I often want to change stuff whenever I read one of my past stories. Sometimes I can't help but edit a few words in, even if the story was written way back a decade ago and nobody's gonna read it anytime soon.

Hmm... seems Quinn doesn't know Daria's in town, yet. Especially if she's being her normal mall-princessy self, worrying about wrinkles at a time like this.

Funny how even as there's a huge skirmish going on that politics and racism matter most, not whether a bunch of well-dressed females have somewhere safe to pile into. See, it's a good thing Satheri's bawling. Girl + tears = males amending their original decisions, and doing the right thing. Usually. Hmm. Maybe not in this case.

Whoa, what an admission. She's talking about the flower ritual?!! 🥀 Good gosh.

Now they're in the house, and an ember just flew into a window. Good thing Quinn's here. Hopefully she'll protect the house. Ha. That Franz Ferdinand song. I hear this one on 98 Rock sometimes, this song matches the intensity of the moment.

Cool, Daria's got the insight to go home first. Good plan. I approve wholeheartedly, yes I do. Hmm. Who is this woman being pursued? Is it Synda?? -- That'd really be something right? Daria saves her tormentor not once, but twice. Wow, look at all this dialog. Diabolical menaces love to ramble in stories, just as they're about to commit some dastardly deed.

The girl in the cloak was Synda.

Ha ha HA, knew it! What a gripping set of outcomes this week, Clavier. Gosh darn I miss writing.

[WellTemperedClavier]

@Acadian - Indeed. I don't think Daria from the earlier episodes would have bothered intervening. But she's been helped by enough people that she'll return the favor.

You'll get to see what happens with Synda in the epilogue (and as you know from TES lore, she's better off outside of Vvardenfell).

@SubRosa - Yeah, Daria's changed a lot from the beginning. She's learned enough about the world, and her place in it, that she's become brave enough to choose to do the right thing. As you say, it's easy to just mock the situation from a computer screen, much harder to actually do something--but doing something is far more satisfying.

You guessed correctly. Don't think anyone's going to feel badly for her parents losing money. Frankly, they owe her a lot more after the hell they've put her through.

@Renee - True, sometimes I like having more freedom for this sort of thing.

My guess would be that the Argonian was just complaining about the cold the way anyone else would. Since I think a cold-blooded creature in snow would simply die. So yeah, they have to be warm-blooded.

I've definitely done the editing thing a few times (including with this series).

The Balmora Tax Revolt is definitely bringing up a lot of the uglier undercurrents of Balmoran society, and that's something the Fashion Club is seeing firsthand. The irony of Satheri's situation is that Quinn would never have been angry at her; the whole thing with the flowers was completely Synda's fault. But Satheri's lacking in spine so she lets it eat away at her for years.

As it is, I think Quinn's more confused than anything else. She just doesn't want Synda to be upset.

Franz Ferdinand first got big when I was in college. The song just seemed to match.

Writing's quite a rush. Here's hoping you can soon return to it!

Episode 31: Bad Day in Balmora

Chapter 6

It was one of those stupid embers!

Quinn had been super-careful, doing everything she could, but a stupid wind gust hit the stupid shutters and let in a stupid ember.

And now, mom’s office was on fire.

One part of it, anyway, the side desk where mom kept some of her old papers and where Satheri had been digging out the stamped ones. Satheri was crawling on her back away from the burning desk, clutching the papers to her chest with one arm and screaming her head off.

“Quinn… these books are… like… really heavy…” Tiphannia said.

Ugh, did Tiphannia not see the fire? Quinn seriously wondered if Tiphannia was under some kind of curse that slowed time for her. But this was one day that Tiphannia needed to be quick.

“Tiphannia, Satheri, get out of here!” Quinn yelled.

“What… about…”

“Just take the ones you have with you!”

“But your mom’s office!” Satheri cried. “Your house!”

“Look, I’m Fashion Club steward, and damned if I’m going to lose any more members today! Get the hell out!”

Tiphannia barreled out the door, holding only three of the six books she was supposed to have. Better than nothing. Right when Tiphannia stepped outside came another gust of wind that kicked a whole bunch of burning motes into the air, where they danced around like fireflies before drifting down on the big desk.

The one with all the important papers.

Quinn screamed and grabbed the stacks she’d collected, jerking them away as some of the stray sheets burst into flame.

“Quinn, I’ll help you!” Satheri called out.

Satheri pulled out a big rug from under the side desk and screamed at the top of her lungs as she used it to beat the flames on the main desk. But the fire jumped to the rug, burning the fabric right to Satheri’s hands. She yelped and threw the flaming rug to one of the bookshelves, which also caught on fire.

“Ohmigosh! I’m so sorry muthsera! Please don’t kick me out of the Fashion Club!”

Quinn knew exactly what to do. “Satheri, don’t worry about it! Grab those stamped papers you have and get out with Tiphannia!”

“Yes, muthsera!” Satheri bent down to scoop up the stamped papers, getting… most of them. Then she ran out the door.

Quinn coughed, her vision blurry. All this stupid smoke! She grabbed the two stacks she’d collected and ran outside, where Tiphannia and Satheri waited.

“Muthsera, are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Watch these papers, okay? I still need to get more.”

“No, don’t go—”

She had to. Mom still had case files in the bottom drawer.

Quinn stepped back into the seething hell that used to be her mother’s office. What looked like a dozen angry little fires burned in the smoky blackness. She lifted the hem of her dress and hopped over a little bonfire to get to the desk. Good thing she’d worn wool that day!

Gods, it was so dark! She breathed in and bent over coughing, took another breath the moment she could, and then fell to her knees in a second fit. The air burned like an oven around her as she wheezed and drooled. Daria once said something about how, in fires, you should stay low since that way you didn’t inhale as much smoke, so she pressed herself to the ground, dizzy and feeling like someone had wrung out her lungs. Maybe she should go back. Mom had enough, right?

Which way was the desk?

“Someone…” she broke into another coughing fit. “Help!”

She shouldn’t have gone back in. That’s when it struck her: this was how people died. They made one dumb move and everything they’d done, everything they were, none of it mattered.

Quinn realized she was doomed.



*********



Satheri and Tiphannia stood wringing their hands in front of the burning Morgendorffer house, a mess of papers and books at their feet. Satheri screamed “Quinn!” over and over again, tears and snot running down her face.

“Where’s Quinn?” Daria demanded. “What happened?”

“Daria?” Satheri sniffed. “Quinn’s trying to get all your mom’s paperwork and stuff. I told her not to go back in, this is my fault, I should have stopped her—”

Jeval ran up to them. “Quinn’s in there?”

Satheri sobbed and nodded. Jeval jumped into the burning building without hesitation, shouting Quinn’s name.

“When did she go in?” Daria asked.

“Just… before…” Tiphannia shook her head. “Just before you came!” she finally spat out.

Daria turned to look, trying to find some sign of Jeval in the smoky darkness. She called for Quinn. No response.

No. No, no, no, no. She’d never understood Quinn. Never understood how with one word or gesture she’d win the loyalty of strangers while Daria’s best efforts foundered or won only censure. But it didn’t matter. Beneath all bitterness and resentment, one truth shone through: Quinn was her blood, her little sister so pure and naïve to the ways of the world.

Every blow taken, every insult suffered, had in some way been for Quinn. When Daria had stayed silent about Synda, it was not for fear of Camonna Tong blades entering her own flesh, but for Quinn.

Without Quinn, there was nothing. Daria’s intelligence, her knowledge… none of it would matter.

Precious seconds passed, and smoke poured out of the doorway.

“Oh gods. Mother Alma, if you hear me…” Satheri prayed.

“Daria!” Jane said. “What do we do?”

Daria took in a deep breath, tainted as it was with Red Mountain’s sulfurous exhalations.

“I know some magic,” Daria said. “So, I’m the one best-suited to help.”

Jane stared for a moment. Then she nodded.

A spell to resist smoke inhalation probably existed, but Daria didn’t know it. All she could do was enhance her meager physicality. She’d sharpened her skill in restorative magic, but her spells didn’t always work.

She had to try.

Daria called the magic into her muscles and sinews. Power surged in her limbs and along her back in response.

And fizzled out a moment later.

No time to ponder failure. She called again, focusing on the result: the power to lift, to push, to break. Daria Morgendorffer, whose spindly arms rivaled those of a strongman’s. Her muscles operated on the same principles, after all, she only needed to convince them that they were, in fact strong.

The magic died.

Plumes of the blackest smoke oozed out from the windows. The heat of the burning fires singed Daria’s nostrils. Gods only knew how Quinn and Jeval fared. Her hands trembled.

Her mana was almost out. If only she’d practiced more…

“Screw it,” she said, the self-taught mantra encompassing the light of Aetherius and the connectedness of all things in Mundus. It fell into place with a grand chain reaction: the force of magic, trapped by thought into physical form, the sudden quickening in her veins and capillaries, paltry muscles made mighty by her will.

Thus enhanced, Daria ducked low and rushed inside. Darkness pressed down on her like a living thing as the very air burned her skin. Jeval lay by the door, face-down on the ground.

She’d save him if she could. But she had to find Quinn, first.

Each breath seared Daria’s throat, and the smoke flooded her lungs. She coughed until tears poured from her eyes, but she kept moving, searching for any sign of her sister.

She saw nothing and heard only the roar of flames. Blindly she advanced, extending her hands in desperate hope. Her fingertips touched soft fabric. She grabbed it and pulled. The weight within gave slightly.

This had to be Quinn.

Gritting her teeth, Daria put an arm under her prone sister and lifted. She grunted from the effort, sweat pouring down her face as she struggled to get a good grip, her legs wobbling under the weight of Quinn’s limp form.

But she had her sister.

Heaving and gasping, she staggered back to what she hoped was the door. One foot in front of the other, she told herself. Don’t think ahead, think of the now.

Daria glimpsed light and lunged forward.

She tumbled out into the blinding day, greeted by the gasps of onlookers. She dropped Quinn on the ground, and through her bleary vision saw the tell-tale rise and fall of her sister’s chest.

Now for Jeval.

Her mind reeling, no longer sure if the strength in her limbs came from magic or adrenaline, she went back in. Spotting Jeval right away, she grabbed him by the calves. Holding him as tightly as she could, she pulled him across the ground as flames consumed her home.

The magic sputtered. Her limbs drooped. Her knees slammed against the ground. The world spun. Hacking coughs drove her to the ground, her shaking hands still clutching at Jeval’s legs. No magic was left. No strength was left.

She’d saved Quinn.

Then, suddenly, hands grabbed at her, some fleshy, some scaly. She tightened her hold on Jeval and let them do the pulling.

Musical Outro - Subhuman, by Garbage

[SubRosa]

Uh oh, embers. Things are getting hot.

I do love the idea that Tiphanna is suffering from time dilation. For her time appears to be passing normally. But to everyone else it is like she is slowly crawling through amber.

Some quick action on Satheri's part in trying to beat out the fire with the rug. Too bad that sort of backfired on them. But this is in the age before fire extinguishers. I guess summoning a frost astronach would be the nearest thing to one.

Uh oh, Quinn's own courageous act of trying to save Mom's business is likewise going badly, as clearly she has stayed too long in the smoke.

Daria and Jevvie are there! Hopefully they will be just in time.

Aha! So some of that magical training with Johanna did pay off. Daria is going the same route as January, and is using magic to enhance herself physically. Maybe in a few years she will have a cape of her own after all...

That was a thrilling climax to Daria and Quinn's adventure in the tax riots. At least I hope it is all downhill from here, given that they both nearly died and their home was burned down. I really appreciated how in the end it was everyone pulling together - literally - to save one another.

Now I wonder if Sydna will go to Cyrodiil to start a new life, and settle down in Kvatch... Surely, nothing could go bad there? It would be like the man who survived the Hiroshima bombing, and went to another city - Nagasaki.

[Acadian]

Mom’s office wastes no time in bursting into out of control flames, but Quinn and her charges make it out to fresh air. Great job writing Satheri and Tiphannia – as ever, their quirks combine with Quinn’s for some great reading!

“I’m fine. Watch these papers, okay? I still need to get more.”
Quinn, NOOO! Not for papers!

Poor Quinn realizes too late.

Enter Dario and Co. Uh-oh, Jeval makes the same decision – blinded by infatuation for Quinn but courageous nonetheless. Quinn is notably more valuable than mom’s papers after all.

The ripples of Quinn’s well-meaning but poor decision continue as Jeval’s in danger and now, Daria charges in. At least she tries and tries and finally succeeds in some magic enhancement for the task.

On the edge of our seats as, finally, everyone gets out safely. Whew, that was close!