Clark in Skyrim, A continued report from across the border. Options

[ghastley]

If mALX is back, then Clark should return too.

We left him in Evergloam at the beginning of the 4th Era, where Nocturnal had just inducted him and Minx as Nightingales, to join Dralsi. The two other members of the first trinity had been slain by Ogrim the Restless, who was the original occupant of the cave complex that became the Twilight Sepulchre.

He's about 225 years old now. Nocturnal and Azura made him immortal, rather than risk having to train a new one. He retired as a Nightingale some time ago, and went back into business managing brothels, and other enterprises that remain profitable in times of war. Much of the other intervening history should emerge as this unfolds.

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Part 1 - Over the border

"So Gilda, have you been into Skyrim before?" Clark asked the young woman sitting next to him. Ahead of them, the horse plodded onward, pulling Clark's carriage along the road towards Helgen. He gave the reins a jiggle, but the horse's gait didn't change. It only knew slow and steady.

Gilda wasn't really paying attention. She was busy looking at the scenery, which is why Clark had asked. "Oh, what? No, I barely got a mile from our farm before now. Mother didn't like me wandering off; she was scared I'd run into bandits."

"Is that how your nose got broken?" Clark guessed.

"Yes, the one time I did get away, she turned out to be right. When the bandits found out I didn't have anything valuable, they ... well, you can imagine what they had in mind. I gave the first one who tried anything my knee, and he did that in return. The others didn't stop me when I ran off, they were too busy laughing at our discomfort."

"How long ago was that? It looks like it's been that way for a while."

"About five months, I think. One day was much like another at our farm, and I lost track of time. I can't thank you enough for getting me away from there."

Clark wasn't sure what had made him offer to take her with him. He did need a new apprentice, that was true, but why he'd suddenly decided it could be her was beyond him. It wasn't her looks, for certain. Apart from her nose, she had crooked teeth, and looked like she never ate anything. Her mother was the exact opposite, so it was clear where all the food went in that household. She was wearing one of her mother's hand-me-down dresses, which fit her like a sack.

But he'd stopped at the farm for directions when he left Bruma, and she'd caught his eye. Before he knew it, he'd told her mother she could have a good career as a merchant's apprentice, hinting that she might be able to send some of her earnings home.

And if she'd persuaded him to do that, she probably had some speech talent, so she might work out well. He'd need to heal her nose, and fix her teeth first, and that would need more magicka than he had. Once he got to Whiterun, he'd be able to use the Alchemy lab at his house to make some fortification potions, but until then he couldn't do anything.

"We'll be in Helgen before long," he told her. "It's just over there, where you can see the smoke rising..." Clark's voice trailed off, as he realised that there shouldn't be that much smoke. Something had apparently set part of the town on fire, if not all of it.

They soon met a ragged bunch of imperial soldiers coming the other way, telling of a dragon attack on the town. Clark didn't think there were any dragons in Tamriel.

"Nor did we, until that one swooped down on us," the legionary told him. "We were preparing an execution for Ulfric Stormcloak and some of his men, when it was interrupted by a blast of magic. Threw everyone around like dolls. We'd heard that Ulfric could use the Thu'um like that, so we had him gagged, but a beast that size doing it was something else entirely."

"General Tullius and the Thalmor Ambassador were there too," one of the other men put in. "We have no idea if they got out."

Nobody knew if it was safe to try passing through. There were trails to Falkreath that might be preferable, as long as you weren't hauling anything heavy.

"But watch out for bandits if you go that way," another soldier advised. "That applies any time you leave the main roads in Skyrim."

Clark had heard much the same from legionaries in Cyrodiil. In his opinion, the roads weren't any safer than any other route, just better paved. He let his horse continue down the road.

Helgen was deserted when they got there. Most of the population seemed to be lying dead in the streets, scorched by the dragon's breath. Anyone alive had presumably fled, and the dragon itself was nowhere around. Clark decided to continue down into Riverwood and let them know what had happened. If the dragon didn't attack there next, of course.

---

Riverwood was intact, but they'd seen the dragon fly over. Gerdur, the mill-owner, told Clark that her brother Ralof had escaped from Helgen, and she thought that Hadvar, the legionary from the town, had too. Ralof had brought a stranger with him, and she'd gone on to Whiterun to warn the Jarl.

Clark knew from his earlier trips that Ralof was a Stormcloak, and he asked Gerdur if he'd been one of the men the soldiers had mentioned as due for execution. Ralof hadn't mentioned that part, just that he'd escaped from the dragon. But now it made sense why Hadvar had been there at the same time. "I'll make sure Ralof stays well hidden," she told Clark.

She turned back to what she'd been doing when they arrived. "When the dragon flew over, I was so startled, I dropped this firewood I'd just split in the river. I was trying to dry it out with a flare spell, but it looks like I'll just have to split some more."

"There's an easier way, you know," Clark told her. He took one of the pieces of firewood and stood it on a stump. "Cast a frost spell on it," he told Gerdur. She did so, until Clark told her to stop. "Now dispel the ice"

Gerdur didn't know that spell, so Clark taught it to her. "Now try the flare."

The wood caught immediately, and she quickly dispelled the flames. "I hardly used any magicka doing that. It was a lot easier than the way I was trying."

"Right, especially as the frost comes easily to you. Here, I'll help you finish these."

"You make it look so easy," Gerdur told him. "Are you sure you're an Imperial, not a Breton?"

"It's all practice, not magicka reserves," he told her. "It looks easy because I'm using less magicka than you would. Just like you know how to roll a log instead of doing it the hard way by lifting. But some spells are beyond my normal reach. That's why I have to wait until I get to Whiterun before I can heal Gilda's nose."

Gerdur noticed Gilda for the first time. "I can help her with a good meal, and you too. I owe you for that firewood trick."

"I hoped you might. Cooking is where you show your skill."

---

"Looking at her, I expected she had no appetite," Gerdur whispered to Clark. "But she's on her third helping of the stew already."

Clark told Gerdur that he suspected her mother had been starving her. Whether that was to keep her thin, or just because the mother ate all the food, he didn't know, but the mother was really fat. "She didn't think enough of Gilda to get her teeth straightened, so I doubt she had any positive feelings for her."

"If Gilda eats like that all the time, she might take after her," Gerdur warned.

"I don't expect she will. I'll get Lydia to look after her, and she'll keep her fit, not fat."

Lydia was Clark's housecarl in Whiterun. She'd been part of the deal when Jarl Balgruuf made Clark a Thane of the city, for his services to its people. He'd forgotten what he'd done for them; nothing major, just a lot of small things that added up. And the Jarl had noticed his effect on the local economy. Even the Khajiiti caravan that camped outside the gates seemed to be more prosperous after Clark had arrived.

They'd be at his house, Breezehome, by the end of the day, if there weren't any problems on the road.

---

"Oh, It's you, Thane," the guard at the gate knew Clark, even if he didn't know the girl. "Is she with you? I have orders to keep strangers out, with dragons sighted in the area."

Clark vouched for Gilda, and the guard opened the gate for them.

"That's a new development," Clark remarked. "The only ones not allowed in before were the Khajiit traders. They have an unjustified reputation as thieves. Well, maybe it's partly justified, but they're not the worst. They just have a more sharing attitude to property than the Nords are accustomed to, and it's often misinterpreted."

---

"What have you got in the sack?" Lydia asked.

"That's not a nice thing to say," Clark admonished. "Even if that is a good description of her outfit. This is Gilda, my new apprentice, and we'll be exchanging that 'sack' for something better-fitting as soon as we can. She's about your height, so is there something in the wardrobe she can try on?"

"You know I only keep a few changes of armour. If you're looking for a dress, you're probably out of luck."

"Leather armour might be more comfortable, if it fits."

Gilda took a look in the wardrobe, but there weren't any dresses, and the leather was loose, even with the straps tightened all the way. She put the "sack" back on, and tied the string back around her waist.

"We have to go to Belethor's in the morning anyway. We'll find you something then. Come out to the back room while I brew up some potions, and then I'll see what I can do about your nose," Clark told her.

Lydia was already back at the cookpot, stirring up some food. She could see that the poor girl needed feeding, even if Clark couldn't.

This post has been edited by ghastley: Oct 2 2014, 07:52 PM

[ghastley]

Acadian: I think I also mentioned mirrors as signalling devices back in the Cyrodiil story, as the source of the code for the crystal ball telegraph, so it helps keep my world consistent. The polished silver mirror is high-maintenance, so most folk wouldn't bother, and it would be a luxury item. Clark is a merchant, so he'd have one, at least as a trade sample.

Grits: More Vicuña coming up! She was fun to play, and I hope I can sustain her character as an NPC.

Destri: I have to disagree about those soldiers. The ones that got out were those who fled at the first sight of the dragon, like Tullius and Elenwen. But my main reason for not dwelling on them is that Clark isn't the Dragonborn, and won't get very involved with those quests. Besides, in-game, soldiers are either completely healthy or dead.

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Previously

Clark has travelled to the ancient Dwemer city of Markarth, where he's met Vicuña, the travelling inspector of the All-Tamriel Guild of Prostitutes. They've negotiated an agreement for a new establishment outside the city.

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Part 4 - Markarth Temple

Of course, the agreement wasn't final until it was put in writing, and signed. They went to the Treasury House, where such things were recorded, and had the scribe there lay it all on parchment.

Vicuña read through her copy before signing. She'd been sure last night that she was surrendering everything, but this seemed like a very fair and even contract. "What's this clause at the end?" she asked. "The one about re-negotiating at regular intervals, not to exceed half a year."

"Things will change, and I don't want the deal going stale because it doesn't get renewed. I'm sure you'll see other benefits, if you think about it."

"Do you expect me to do the negotiating again?"

"Of course, and I can offer training if you think you need it."

---

Clark's price for training was the secret of that breast-levitating enchantment. There were women in several of his establishments that could benefit from it. Even the ones who had less to carry would look firmer and younger.

Vicuña took off her amulet and handed it to Clark. Her breasts settled slightly, as their full weight took effect. They were still admirably firm, and held up well on their own, but she didn't look quite as comfortable without the magical help. "I'm going to my room to get another, you can use the enchanting station in the corner to learn how it was done."

It made sense that she'd have enchanting facilities here, as well as spare amulets,. He wondered how many of the other women here were using them. The merchant side of his mind was already considering the market for soul gems.

He quickly understood when he disenchanted the item, that he'd need a lot more skill before he could reproduce this one. There were two parts to the effect, one being the familiar Fortify Carry Weight, but the other made it specific to its use, and that was the difficult part.

Vicuña was back at his side, watching him. "You'll want to visit the Temple of Dibella while you're in Markarth," she told him. "They know a lot there about how to make magicka especially for a woman. There are ways to focus the enchantment, that only they can teach."

"Is that what brought you here?" Clark asked.

"Yes, they know about the Temple as far away as Morrowind. Dibella's not worshipped much there, but the Telvanni are a bit exceptional in that regard. We don't reject any source of knowledge, no matter how foreign. And the Dwemer connection, here in Markarth, is a draw too."

Clark knew the priestesses at Dibella's temple well. He often sent young women he'd recruited for his establishments there for training in the erotic arts. His business and theirs overlapped in many ways, but they weren't exactly in competition. As the Guild required, any payment for actual sex had to go to a Guild member, but erotic displays, training, and other services that stopped short of that were permitted to non-members.

The Dibellans were equally insistent that while what they did would certainly arouse, it was an offering to the goddess. And that should be considered separate from anything it might lead to. If they did anything afterwards, it was because they wanted to, not because someone had just paid them to dance. It wasn't a secret that they got just as worked up by a good performance, but the Guild was tolerant, and let them have their fun.

He'd never really considered them as major magic-users, though, except the common uses any woman would make. But there was a fine line between using it consciously, with an obvious casting like you'd do with a fireball spell, and the way that charm and speechcraft worked. And you could definitely describe some of what they did as a "casting motion", just one that continued as it mesmerised its target.

He resolved to go over to the Temple and make inquiries as soon as he'd given Vicuña her first lesson.

"What you need to learn is how to concentrate on two distinct things at once. One is the pleasure you're sharing with your partner, and the other is the information you're trying to extract, or the argument you're trying get across. So you're going to read this book, while I try and distract you. At any time, I may stop and ask you questions about the content, and I expect the correct answers."

She lay face-down on the bed with the book on the pillow. He let her turn the first page before he started to run his hands over her back, and around to her breasts. She propped herself up on her elbows, to give him better access, and continued to read. She could manage this. The story was interesting, and Barenziah was in a similar situation, so he was just reinforcing what she was reading, and helping her get immersed in the tale. Was he reading over her shoulder? She didn't really care, as the next part looked like something she'd like to do, too.

He couldn't be reading with her now, though. Not if that was his tongue. And the book was telling her about guarding a caravan, and fighting off bandits, just as she was doing the exact opposite and letting him have access to her valuables.

At what he judged was a good moment, Clark rolled her over and asked her what was on the last page.

Barenziah had just reached the Morrowind border with Straw, and slept with some of the soldiers. She got that part right, but a lot of the details she added were what she'd just experienced, and weren't in the book at all. Clark let her read it again, and pointed out the differences.

"But that's just volume 1. We'll do another volume tomorrow, and by the time we finish the series, you'll be a lot better at it. Meanwhile, we have something else to finish."

---

"There's a man in the Sanctum!" exclaimed Orla, as she hid herself behind a pillar. Her shapely leg stretched out towards her robe, which lay on the floor not far away, and she tried to drag it to her with her foot.

Hamal laughed, and walked over to give Clark a hug. "He's seen the rest of us before, many times, haven't you Clark?"

"In intimate detail." Anwen agreed, taking her turn to embrace him.

"But didn't you tell me we don't let men down here?" Orla asked, peeking around the pillar shyly. She had a nice face, Clark thought, and at least one nice leg, why did she think the rest was anything to be embarrassed about?

He heard the door open behind him and Senna came to join them. She tossed her robe onto the bench next to him and walked around the other side of the pillar to push Orla out into the open. "You've got to get used to showing yourself, or you won't make it past acolyte."

Orla reluctantly lowered her hands and let him see her properly. She was a Nord like Hamal, with the more voluptuous build that usually meant. Senna the Breton was a little smaller, as were the Redguards Anwen, and ...

"Where's your Sybil?" Clark asked. The women looked sad.

"Lost to us recently, I'm afraid," Hamal replied. "We have just performed the Exalted Protocol of the Dibellan Sybil to try and locate her successor. The goddess has revealed to us that she lives in the small mining town of Karthwasten, to the north. If you're travelling that way, could you let her know, and have her family send her to the Temple?"

Clark hadn't intended going that way, but Hamal and the others were good friends, and he had something to ask them in return. "If I do, would you help me to use a new enchantment I just learned?" He didn't ask further about the loss. It was clear to him from the way Hamal said it that she couldn't, or didn't want to, explain.

"Yes, you know I provide Enchantment training," Hamal agreed. "I take it this one is a special one for women?"

Clark explained about the breast levitation enchantment he'd got from Vicuña's amulet. "Dibella would approve, if she didn't create that herself," the priestess told him. "But without our new Sybil, we might not have the full extent of her blessing."

They explained further how Clark would know when he'd found her. "She's a child? I'd have thought it was a job for a fully-developed woman."

"She does need to be pure when she joins us. So we need to recruit her before she loses..."

Clark understood now. The priestesses would make sure her first time was special, with plenty of ceremony, and probably supportive company to make sure it was done right. And it wouldn't be until she was fully ready for it. She'd have a few years to watch and understand what was involved before she'd be expected to participate. And until then she'd be protected, and trained for the honour of being the Sybil.