Outlanders (Morrowind Crossover) Options

[Lena Wolf]

There is a balance to be struck between too frequent postings and not frequent enough. You want your readers to remember what they've read last time, or else each post must be sufficiently self-contained. On the other hand, I understand that not everyone has the time to read things promptly. When I started posting Lena Wolf story, I did a post every day because I post as I write, this was especially true in the beginning - no backlog at all (I have a small "skeleton" backlog now). This was too frequent for most readers, but then I try to write in such a way that posts could be skipped without missing anything important. It's like in life - some things just pass you by.

Your story is already written of course, so perhaps you need to ask yourself over what length of time do you want it posted? Months or years? This will determine the gaps between posts.

PS. I read your story but I don't often post replies. I am a silent reader.

[WellTemperedClavier]

Thanks!

So I did a bit of math, and it looks like if I go by one chapter per week, we'll be doing this for three years (which is about how long it took to me to write this). Two chapters a week, and it's a much more manageable year and a half.

Thus, I'm strongly inclined to do two chapters a week, unless there's a great preference among readers for only doing one.

Alternately, I could do one update a week, but have each update consist of two chapters (assuming it's from a multi-chapter episode).

This post has been edited by WellTemperedClavier: Apr 19 2022, 08:14 AM

[Lena Wolf]

Personally, I think that shorter posts more frequently are better than very long ones less frequently. Your current post length seems to be good. Did you do a word count? 2000 appears to be the advisable upper limit, give or take a hundred or two. Although you will find stories here with much longer or much shorter posts - there is no universal recipe, of course. It must make sense - breaking up a logical unit is probably even worse. Unless of course it introduces a cliffhanger...

[SubRosa]

I found one post a week to be the most manageable. I usually shoot for a word count of 1,000 - 3,000 words. Usually somewhere in the 2k range. Sometimes it can be hard to find a good spot to split it up.

I do not write post by post though. Instead I write an entire book/chapter of 50k - 80k words. Then after it is done I go through it and break it up into post-sized chunks. If possible I make each one entire scene. But often times scenes run long, and might take multiple posts (or even dozens if a lot is going on.).

[Acadian]

Although my first book was posted as I wrote it at two episodes a week, I moved to the same thinking as SubRosa for my subsequent ones. I now draft a full book before announcing it, then go into a posting phase where I continuously edit the draft and post one episode a week. As a writer, I found that once a week makes it easy and predictable for readers and, I’m convinced, helps them stay with me and provides plenty of flexibility to not fall behind. I also find it useful to post a one or two sentence ‘In our previous episode’ summary before each episode. That not only refreshes readers but also makes where you break the story for each episode less critical.

I often don’t make final episode breaks until right before posting, since I try hard to stay under 2000 words per episode and, for me, the story tends to change length a noticeable amount via editing. I actually aim for about 1400 words per episode. What I found is that when episodes get too long, readers tend to skim instead of savor them.

I do admit that once I begin the 'posting phase', it can be sobering to realize that my leisurely posting pace can translate to many months to post a book. That said, I've actually learned to appreciate separating my drafting and posting phases. In my case, my writing follows the life of my elf. She plays so much faster than I can write however, that I think of our fiction efforts as highlights from her neverending memoires.

*

Chapters 3 & 4

’While Jane busied herself with the meal, Daria sat in the crowded little junk shop with J'dash, an older Khajiit with streaks of white in his russet fur. He rested in his chair, wrapped in a threadbare linen robe, his left hand grasping a clay cup filled with warm sujamma. J'dash's golden eyes fixated on the far wall, as if he could see through it to the distant jungles and deserts of sugar-blessed Elsweyr.’
- - I found this description to be wonderful, the way you efficiently yet artfully wove in lots of relevant detail about this older Khajiit.

By Julianos little teapot! I’m surprised and delighted that Daria actually enjoyed something she was convinced was so disgusting once Jane turned it into dinner.

Damn that Synda – an ambush, targeting Daria’s glasses. I can imagine those’ll be hard to replace.

Methinks, Jane has quite earned a spot in Daria’s heart by looking in on her temporarily blind friend and offering to be her literary eyes for a time.

I confess a soft spot for character-driven fiction and this story certainly fits that description.

[WellTemperedClavier]

@ Lena Wolf, @ Sub Rosa, @ Ascadian

Thanks! On that case, I'll probably just do one chapter a week. Most episodes are about 10,000 words in length, and most have six chapters. Going by this, the average chapter is probably between 1K-2K words.

@ Ascadian Glad you enjoyed the description! I really wanted to paint a picture of the place, so to speak. And yes, the whole series is pretty strongly character-based, so there's more of that on the way.

[WellTemperedClavier]

This is the first of the single-chapter episodes.

Episode 2: On the Origins of the Fashion Guild

Quinn started planning for battle from the very moment she awoke.

That's what Imperials did, right? It's not like you could just snap your fingers and get the biggest empire ever. You had to plan and think and plot to win your battles.

And she had one doozy of a battle before her.

Quinn resisted the urge to squint as she looked into the mirror. Squinting created wrinkles. She had to stay calm and relaxed and perfect. She adjusted the mirror to catch some of the morning light, her mind already running through a hundred different possibilities for hair. There were just so many choices!

Making the wrong one wasn't an option.

Especially now, with how things fell apart with that one girl Synda, who was from exactly the kind of family you were supposed to make friends with in Balmora! Quinn still didn't know why things went wrong, whether it was something she did, Daria did, or Daria's creepy friend did.

Quinn listened to her sister's quiet breathing in the next bed over. Not like Daria ever cared about what happened to the family. Figured that the only friend Daria made was another weirdo who didn't have any other friends and who wasn't even rich for goodness' sake!

The Morgendorffers were outlanders. To survive, they needed to make friends with native Dunmer. Synda was mad at Quinn, and that meant a lot of the other Dunmer were also mad at her. Not all of them—just enough to make things a lot tougher.

"Oh Talos Stormborn," she sighed, bowing her head and clasping her hands in prayer. "I know I'm not a big general or battle-mage or anything, but I am fighting for the Empire in my own way. And fashion's something that affects everybody so it's actually a lot more important than swords and stuff! And I could really use some divine aid about now."

Raising her head, she studied her blurry reflection in the mirror's smudged surface. Maybe it would have been better to pray to Dibella, but right now she needed the backing of the biggest and toughest god of all time!

Quinn had two things going for her. First, she knew fashion better than anyone else. Second, she came from Cyrodiil, the Heart of the Empire and the fashion center of the known world. Sure, she was from a really faraway part of Cyrodiil, but it's not like any of the Dunmer knew the difference between Stirk and the Imperial City!



*********



You could learn a lot if you kept your mouth shut and your ears open, and that's just what Quinn had done for the past week when she was on school grounds. Most attendees were outlanders like her, from all over Tamriel. But if the Morgendorffers were going to make any impact on Morrowind, she needed to get in with respectable Dunmer!

Books were boring. But sometimes they were useful and she'd found a big yellow one (the ugliest shade of yellow, too) that listed all the important Hlaalu families. She paid attention to names and places of residence, making up a chart in her head of who was connected to who and how they mattered.

Between that and keeping a careful eye on things, Quinn had three prospects in mind. First, Briltasi Talori. From a minor noble Balmora family and super-nice, but already had like a million friends, both Dunmer and outlander. Quinn would just be a drop in the ocean in her crowd.

Second, Torosi Jerylso. Also really popular but was a total mystery beyond that. Everyone seemed to say something completely different about her, though what they said was almost always good.

Third, Vidrene Servo, who people liked but whose family might be friends with Synda's family or something. Quinn wasn't completely sure, but she didn't want to take that chance.

Quinn sat down in Sera Benniet's classroom. Benniet went on and on about investing in glass mines or something really boring like that. Quinn didn't even get why she needed to learn this stuff! It's not like she'd ever spend her life doing something so dull.

Next to her was a Dunmer girl with her shoulders bunched up and her round red eyes fixed on the sleeve of her blue gown. Her Imperial-style blue gown—so she probably wasn't one of those Dunmer who was all rude to outlanders. She smoothed the sleeve, like she was trying to get it just right.

Satheri Rowleni, Quinn remembered. The Rowleni family was loaded. Didn't the dad own like some kind of big jellyfish (or whatever those weird flying tentacled things were called) farm out in the Ascadian Isles? But even though the Rowlenis had connections, Satheri didn't.

Quinn smiled. This smelled like an opportunity!

"I really like that dress," Quinn whispered.

Satheri gasped. "Really? I got it imported from Cyrodiil. But I'm worried it doesn't match my eyes."

"It totally does!" Quinn insisted. "Color contrast is so in right now! I bet if this were the Imperial City you'd have guys, like, all over you. Plus, blue's a great color in Cyrodiil these days. Being from there, I would know!"

Okay, maybe color contrast wasn't in—but it's not like anyone would know way out here.

"Oh wow! We never hear anything about the styles in Cyrodiil out here. You're so smart!"

"Only about the important things."

"Do you know Tiphannia Blumius?" Satheri asked. "She's human like you and she's like my best friend—well, a really good friend."

Satheri suddenly seized up, the way you would if you saw a bug crawl out of your dress, except this was Morrowind and bugs weren't a big deal.

"Wait, don't tell her I called her a really good friend!" Satheri begged. "I meant she's my best friend but I didn't want to say that and make you think I didn't like you—"

"Satheri?" came Sera Benniet's voice. "Is everything all right in the back row?"

Satheri just quivered in place.

"Sera," Quinn said, "Satheri was saying she had like a fainting spell this morning, and she came here because she really wants to learn but it's acting up again."

Fainting spells were perfect for an excuse. They weren't gross like food poisoning or fevers. When guys heard "fainting spell" it just made them want to protect you.

"Could I go outside with Satheri? I think some fresh air might help," Quinn said.

Benniet shrugged. "Fine. Better that than a classroom disruption."

Satheri was still freaking out when Quinn walked her outside.

"Calm down!" Quinn said. "We're out of that stuffy classroom."

"Please don't tell Tiphannia what I said, because I really didn't mean it that way, except I sort of did—"

"I won't say a thing." Not like she could even figure out what Satheri was going on about.

Satheri brightened up. "Thank you so much! You are my best friend, Quinn, and I mean that!"

Okay, that was a little weird. But whatever. Best to have someone who was gracious.

Satheri kept going. "And I'll introduce you to Tiphannia later on. I think you'd really like her. She knows all about fashion. Plus, she's actually from some big family in the Imperial City."

"Wait, the Imperial City?"

"Yeah. Are you from there too?"

Time to change the subject and not mention coming from a city out on an island in the middle of nowhere. "Oh, you know what else is in? Ruffles," Quinn said, and really hoped it was true.



*********



Quinn wanted to freak out, but the problem was she couldn't. Not if she wanted to be popular. Yes, there was a time and a place where a girl could do that, like at the right dramatic moment to prove a point to mom and dad, but not when she was trying to make friends.

And why hadn't Quinn heard of Tiphannia if she was some big deal from the Imperial City?

She just about froze when Satheri pointed Tiphannia out, standing outside of Instructor Ondryn's class and looking at her nails. Perfect jet-black hair, her face round and fine-boned, with a cyan dress that was just right for her figure. Tiphannia wasn't an Imperial—Quinn couldn't quite figure out her background—but that didn't matter when she already looked so good! Quinn was just some backwater hick. No way she could compete with someone who'd grown up in the capital and probably knew all of the latest fashions by heart. It wasn't fair!

"Hi, Tiphannia! This is Quinn, I met her in Sera Benniet's class today. She's super-smart—like in a good way—and knows all about fashion."

Tiphannia slowly looked up at Quinn, her face serene and incurious.

"Hi," Quinn said, standing straight and tall.

"Hi," Tiphannia responded, drawing out the greeting.

Go ahead and judge me, Quinn thought, as Tiphannia eyed her up and down. And then all of a sudden Tiphannia looked back down at her nails. Like Quinn wasn't even worth judging.

"So Quinn was saying that all the popular girls in Cyrodiil are wearing blue and ruffles right now," Satheri went on. "And that color contrast is in, so blue goes well with Dunmer eyes."

"Blue... goes really well... with my hair..." Tiphannia said, and she spoke so slowly that listening to her talk was like watching molasses drip from a spoon. And she still didn't look up from her nails.

Something about Tiphannia seemed off. It wasn't like she was making fun of Quinn—even if she was, there was no way Satheri was in on the joke. Maybe Tiphannia was just like that for some reason.

"Exactly!" Quinn said. "Which is why it's such a popular color right now."

"And ruffles, too!" Satheri added, beaming.

"Ruffles... are so like... complicated..."

Okay, so Tiphannia was really weird. That must have been why Quinn hadn't heard of her. But this was even better! Unpopular friends from very popular families!

Quinn kept up the attack. "Which is also why it's crucial that they be perfectly matched to the outfit! Too many and they just look too busy, but the right amount totally gets attention. A little around the sleeves and maybe around the back of the neck—they can be really slenderizing like that."

And sure, Quinn didn't know for sure if that was true. But all that mattered was that people thought it was true! It's like mom said—you needed the right story to win a court case, and fashion was no different!

By the end of the day, Quinn knew she'd found her place.

"I think it's clear that Morrowind's been neglected for too long," she said. "So I say we form a Fashion Guild to make sure that the ladies of Balmora get the style that they deserve! And as founders, we get first dibs."

"Oh wow! That's so great! I never thought I'd be in a guild!" Satheri exclaimed.

"Gilded sleeves are like... so slimming..."



*********



"I do applaud your ambition," mom said, back at home. "But legally, to call yourself a guild, you need an imperial charter."

"And you can get one, right?"

Mom looked thoughtful for a second. "That would be an interesting legal challenge—but obtaining a charter is a long, drawn-out process. It took the scenarists decades to get theirs."

"Decades!? I'll be all old and wrinkly then!" Quinn protested. "This is important. By spreading Imperial fashion I'm spreading the Empire!"

Mom sighed. "Yes, but you'll have to convince the emperor of that. I think you're off to a great start! This is a wonderful way to make yourself known in the city, and both the Rowleni and Brolius families are well-connected. In fact, I met Junius Brolius a month ago, he does a lot of business with the East Empire Company."

"Is he Imperial? Because I don't think Tiphannia is," Quinn said.

"He is, but Tiphannia's adopted. She's an orphan from Esroniet—Junius and his wife were stationed there and took Tiphannia in just before they were sent back to the capital for reassignment. Regardless, you can't call yourself a guild, and professionally, I can't defend you in court for false representation."

"Fine," Quinn sighed.

So, Fashion Guild was a no-go. Thinking about it a bit, she decided Fashion Club was a good start.

In the meantime, she needed to figure out how to get an imperial guild charter. If it took decades, she had to get started now!

The End

To be continued in Episode 3: An Invitation

Stacy Rowe (Satheri Roweni) - She's Quinn's highly neurotic friend in the show, and is so here as well (also a Dunmer).

Tiffany Blum-Deckler (Tiphanni Brolius) - The presence of East Asian-looking people in TES is kind of ambiguous. Rather than have her be a human of Akavir, I decided here she's from the obscure archipelago of Esroniet, which is still an Imperial province (though only in name at this point).

[Acadian]

’Quinn resisted the urge to squint as she looked into the mirror. Squinting created wrinkles.’
- - What a fun idea to write this episode from Quinn’s perspective. Being immersed in her mind, I was expecting a walk in the shallows. . . . I was pleasantly surprised at the level of strategic brilliance in there!

Nicely done foot-in-the-door maneuver with Satheri – and it paid off. Uh-oh, could this Tiphannia see through Quinn’s self-generated fashion diva credentials? Whew, it looks like no problem there, so far.

The Fashion Guild is a brilliant idea. Too bad about those darn Imperial bureaucrats. . . . Oh well, Fashion Club will have to do for the nonce, and hopefully serve Quinn’s purpose. She has established a beach head. I’m sure she’s hopeful that Daria doesn’t screw it up for her.

[SubRosa]

Every time I read the title of this fic, I hear it in the gravelly tone of the Morrowind (game) Dunmer.

Oh no, the future of the empire might be doomed. Sure Quinn...

Kwama and scrib, yum!

Poor Daria, up is down, down is up, and life has really gone sideways since they moved to Morrowind.

So I am thinking that the Commercial District is on the west side of the river, with the Fighters and Mages Guilds, and LaborTown is on the east side, where Caius Cosades lives?

And now I just read that Jane's house is just a few rows east of the Odai... Ope!

Wow, is Jane doing a portrait of Boethiah?

"Twisted people going slowly insane under the weight of their hypocrisy and cruelty?"
Ok, I was close...

That fried scrib is making me hungry now. I'll have to check the pantry to see if I have any kwama or guar steaks...

Synda is really escalating things. Time for Daria to learn a frenzy spell, and a wait for her to walk past a guard...

I really enjoy how you took the (minor?) antagonists of Quinn and Sydna and gave them depth when you portrayed things from their points of view. That is one of the most difficult things to do as a writer.

Wow, Tiphannia is exactly as I remember her from the show. So is Satheri.

And the Fashion Club Guild Club was born!

[Renee]

A Fashion Guild! Hey, why not? Dibella would certainly approve.

There's a lot of thinking and in-game moments of societal strife in this chapter! It's cracking me up. Like, it's all very quaint and subtle. Bizarre inspirations. How do you think this story up, Clavier?

Fainting spells were perfect for an excuse. They weren't gross like food poisoning or fevers. When guys heard "fainting spell" it just made them want to protect you.

Ain't that the truth? Especially in old-time movies. We women really have lost the art of a good faint, if those movies are to be believed.

This story's a blast. Let's see if the Fashion Club can get a good start, or not.

[WellTemperedClavier]

@Acadian I re-watched the show a few years ago. What's interesting is that, even though Quinn's mostly a target of mockery in the early seasons, those episodes still hint that she's a lot more thoughtful than is immediately apparent. It doesn't become obvious until the later seasons, though.

@Subrosa Heh, I guess "outlanders" does bring that voice clip to mind. FWIW, Jane already kind of sounds like a Dunmer in the show.

And you were right: Labor Town's on the east side. I did actually make a map of Balmora. Sadly, the software I used (Inkarnate) didn't really have a tileset that looked like Balmora, so I had to use a standard medieval setup. But it'll give an idea of where everything is in relationship to each other (I assume Balmora's much larger than what we see in the game).

https://imgur.com/a/GZkm1wD

And thanks. Synda's not a good person, but there's a reason she acts the way she does.

@Renee Thanks! Mostly, I just wanted to write about Balmora from the perspective of a normal-ish person (as in, not an adventurer). I also wanted to get across the idea of danger being omnipresent while still keeping it somewhat grounded in the tone of the show.

Episode 3: An Invitation

Chapter 1

Daria took off her heavy glasses and closed her eyes, then raised her right thumb and forefinger to massage them through the lids. Dad had said the new pair was just about the same as her old one, but she saw the differences—the lenses got blurry at the top instead of at the bottom, and the ache always started in her right eye instead of her left.

At least Daria could see. Could see, read, and walk without stumbling into somebody. Which also meant she could return to the dreary instructions at Drenlyn Academy.

She hid from the sun as she so often did, taking shelter in the surprisingly well-stocked Drenlyn library. Safe amidst the dry smell of old paper, the same in Morrowind as it was in Cyrodiil, she returned to work. And to actually see letters again, clear and precise and ordered! Reading felt like breaking a long and unwanted fast, and her eyes devoured page after page as she committed the facts within to memory.

Which in this case meant memorizing the names of nobles whose greed and ambition had earned them grand titles and places of honor in Great House Hlaalu's semi-annual Yellow Book.

"Mistress Nevena Ules," she mouthed, "by Grace of ALMSIVI, Honored Councilor of Hlaalu Council, Vvardenfell District, Free Trader, Ules Manor, Suran, Ascadian Isles, Bal Ur, District of Vvardenfell, Province of Morrowind."

She looked up from the text.

"And exploiter of forced labor," she whispered.

"Exploder of forced labor? Huh?" chirped a high-pitched voice behind her.

Daria flinched. Bad idea to say that part out loud—no way to know who was listening. She slammed the book shut and shoved it to the stack of finished texts. Turning around, she saw Briltasi Talori and let herself relax a bit. The Dunmer girl's saucer plate-round eyes looked bigger and more vacant than usual. She twirled the strands of one crimson ponytail around her finger as she stared, waiting for an answer.

"It's an Imperial joke, Briltasi," Daria said. Doubtful that Briltasi understood anything, but she had to be careful. Synda still watched. As did the Cammona Tong.

"Gee, outlander jokes are weird. I don't know why you keep making them when you're in Morrowind!"

"We Imperials are simple folk who only run a vast continent-spanning polity, far too uncultured to understand the complexities of Dunmer humor," Daria said, not allowing so much as a quantum of emotion into her voice.

"That is sad." Briltasi's full lips pouted, her eyes thoughtful as if pondering some unquantifiable and slightly tragic mystery of life.

She really does feel bad thinking that I can't understand things here, Daria thought.

"Well, it's tough for me too, sometimes," Briltasi said, perking up. "Like right now I can't understand what Sera Benniet wants me to say. Maybe you could help? You and she are both outlanders, so you probably think really alike!"

"I'll see if I can tap into the vast gestalt that animates all non-Dunmer."

Briltasi turned her head to the side. "Is that a yes?"

Daria sighed. Annoying though Briltasi was, there was no chance she'd ever understand Daria's mockery. Which made her safe, or as safe as anyone got in Morrowind.

"Yes."

"Great! Benniet wants me to write something about how many people it takes to make a quill pen. I told her it was just one, because usually only one servant brings a quill to you, but she said I should think about it harder. But I've already thought about it really hard, and I have to go to a party tonight! Are there really heavy quills that you need two people to carry, or something?"

Daria sighed. This was going to be tough. Part of her just wanted to give some flippant answer, but she knew the Talori family had some influence in Balmora. It wouldn't hurt to have powerful friends after what had happened with Synda.

"Well, think of it this way," Daria said. "Where does the feather for a quill come from?"

"Um, a bird?" Briltasi said, as if she genuinely wasn't sure. She actually might not be. Few birds lived in Morrowind, their ecological role instead assumed by big bugs.

"Right. Now are you the one who takes it directly from the bird? Or does someone else do that?"

Briltasi put a finger to her lips, tapping twice.

"I guess someone else does that. I feel bad for the bird though."

Suddenly a bit more sympathetic, Daria continued. "Quills are usually made from molted feathers, so the bird won't mind."

"That's a relief!"

"Anyway, a fowler or a bird keeper might collect the feathers."

"Okay. Isn't that just one person though?" Briltasi asked.

"Sure. But you can't just use a regular feather as a quill pen. A penturner has to cut it so that it can hold ink."

"Got it! Two people!"

"Maybe more than that. Remember, the penturner has to use a knife to cut the quill. Where did he get the knife?"

"Uh... from his dinner set?"

"My point is that the penturner has to rely on tools, which in turn are made from materials mined from the ground, forged by smiths, delivered to merchants, and so forth."

Briltasi looked down, her ponytails limp and her brow furrowed. "I don't think I understand this."

Daria resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Just say that a quill pen needs lots of people working in lots of specialized tasks to create. If she asks for more detail, say it needs a fowler, a penturner, a miner, a smith, and probably some more. She'll get it." Maybe. But it was unlikely that an outlander instructor like Benniet would put undue pressure on a Dunmer client. A noble Dunmer client, at that.

Briltasi's eyes brightened as she scribbled down the simplified notes.

"Thanks! I wish I could help you with schoolwork, but I only know about important things."

"If I ever need to know how to look..." Daria had been about to say vacuous, but immediately realized how bad of an idea that was. "...glamorous," Daria finished, the word as foul as oil on her tongue, "I'll be sure to ask."

"Is your family important?" Briltasi asked. "Like important here, not important back wherever you came from."

Daria hesitated. What was Briltasi getting at? She decided to be direct.

"My mother's an advocate with the Imperial Guild of Barristers and my father is a consultant for local merchants seeking to do business with other non-Dunmer."

"Hmm, I don't know what all that means but it sounds pretty important! My dad does a lot of business with outlanders and he's holding a banquet on Loredas evening. Why don't you all come along?"

Daria thought about it a moment. A party sounded dreadful, but her family needed allies. Did the Taloris really amount to much? 

"Is your dad going to be okay with it?" Daria asked. Seemed odd that he'd allow Briltasi to make decisions, given what she'd heard about Dunmer parents.

"Daddy says I'm an excellent party arranger! I'll ask him, but I'm sure he'll say yes."

"Sure, on that case." Not that she wanted to go. But a connection was a connection.

"Great! I probably won't talk to you too much since you're not really, well, popular, but that's not because I don't like you. I just don't have much time for you."

"Believe me, I'm completely fine with that."

"There will be a lot of important people there. Kavon, of course," she giggled. "Then there's Elmusa and Llemisa and Synda..."

Hearing the name "Synda" brought back the blows suffered in that alley, the crack of her old glasses and the weeks of blindness. Daria sucked in her breath, suddenly faint.

"Don't worry!" Briltasi said, interrupting her endless guest list. "There will be plenty of outlanders too, so you can hang out with your own kind! I wouldn't want you to be lonely."

Daria could only stammer out a mumbled thanks.




*********




The day drew to a close and Daria put the books back on the library shelves. She looked out the bulbous green-glass window, so much like an insect's eyes. No sign of Jane in the courtyard.

Or of Synda.

Quinn had already found protection. She'd had no trouble winning a new group of friends, not to mention a trio of male admirers: an Imperial, a Breton, and a Bosmer. Nice to know that blind adoration of Quinn crossed most cultural divides. At any rate, Synda no longer seemed to care about Quinn.

Daria had always surpassed her sister when it came to earning enmity.

Probably safe to leave without waiting for Jane, she thought. Just stick to the crowded streets, don't go out of sight of guards...

Daria leaned against the adobe wall, taking deep and measured breaths until the fear went away. Of course, Synda would be at the party. Her family possessed wealth and influence.

And, as Synda had demonstrated, connections to a xenophobic criminal organization active throughout the entire province.

She saw Jane leaving Sera Defoe's atelier, Defoe being the only other outlander instructor besides Benniet. Daria hurried out of the library and fell in next to her friend, the two of them soon navigating the dense crowds on the flagstone-covered banks of the Odai River. The late afternoon sun gleamed off the river's murky current.

"Briltasi invited me to a big Talori family banquet." 

Jane whistled. "Not bad. Between you and your sister, social climbing must run in the family."

"If it were up to me, I'd have declined. But mom would kill me if she found out I didn't take advantage of this 'opportunity'. You don't think Briltasi's just setting me up, do you?"

"Nah. Planning something like that requires more brains than she has. And her dad does do a lot of business with Imperial interests. East Empire Company, I think. They made him rich."

"Nice to know that the most craven of Dunmer natives can find their equivalents among the Imperials. This whole banquet's probably going to be an endless cavalcade of flattery and networking. I wouldn't mind some sane company. I could try to get you in," Daria said.

"Hmm, that's kind of a long shot. Don't get me wrong, I'd love to go—I could probably get a bunch more clients there. But menials like me usually don't get invited anywhere."

"You paint awfully well for a menial."

"A skilled menial is still a menial. Look, I usually only get commissions from outlanders. People like the Taloris don't want to be around foreign-born Dunmer like me," Jane said, the two of them briefly parting ways to make room for a line of barefoot Dunmer pilgrims in rough robes, their smoky voices joined in prayer.

"What if I talked to Briltasi about letting you in?"

"It's just not done, Daria."

"Maybe if..." Daria scanned the crowd, its sea of sharp gray faces and red eyes. Her heartbeat picked up, a cold sweat forming on her back.

"Is everything okay?"

Daria turned her gaze forward, her world shrinking to the space within the copper rims of her spectacles. Nothing bad would happen along a main road during the day. "I'd just feel a lot better with you there."

Jane's head lowered for a moment. "Right, sorry. I forgot. But I don't think anyone's going to rob you at a High Town manor party. If they do it'll be with bad deals and legal forms, not cudgels."

Probably true. But Jane didn't know the truth of the attack. More importantly, she couldn't know. Telling Jane about Synda and the Cammona Tong might put her in danger. Daria gritted her teeth and stilled her tongue, fear and rage boiling to be let out to knock some deserving heads.

They passed through a veil of smoke drifting from an outdoor oven, the scent of baking deshaan bread a peppery and momentary delight.

"How powerful are the Taloris, anyway?" Daria asked.

"They've got a lot of money. I don't think they're that powerful, though."

Daria groaned. "Great. So the one time I surrender my ethics for the rat race of social climbing I pick the wrong family to suck up to."

"Hey, it definitely wouldn't hurt to have them on your side. None of the big Hlaalu movers and shakers live in Balmora anyway. This whole city's just a show they put on to impress foreigners."

"Can I at least throw rotten fruit at the players?"

"Sure, just make sure you have an escape plan for when they set the guards on you."

Everyone back home had described Morrowind as a remote and barbarous province. Some small part of her had hoped there'd fewer rules to hold her back.

If anything, it had more rules than Cyrodiil.



Brittany Taylor (Briltasi Talori) - Popular, cheerful, and without a brain in her head (or maybe she does and is just good at hiding it), Brittany's almost an archetypal nice cheerleader. Here, she's the daughter of a very minor Dunmer noble family.

I actually wrote this story pretty early on, before I'd even conceived of writing an entire series. Looking back on it now, I think that Briltasi, nice as she is, should be a little more distant. The class structure's a big deal, after all. As it is though, I suppose her behavior can be explained by her personality and maybe her father being too busy with work to really raise her (and her stepmom, to whom she's close, is a rich human outlander).

This post has been edited by WellTemperedClavier: Apr 28 2022, 07:34 PM

[Acadian]

Once again, I like the way you incorporate smells into your descriptions. In this case, it was the comfort Daria got from the smell of paper and its familiarity, whether in Cyrodiil or Morrowind.

"We Imperials are simple folk who only run a vast continent-spanning polity, far too uncultured to understand the complexities of Dunmer humor," Daria said, not allowing so much as a quantum of emotion into her voice.’
- - By Kynareth’s wings this was superbly crafted and delivered by Daria! Ironic that her target did not really understand it. Briltasi is a welcome addition to the intrigue in this story – her childlike intelligence makes it easy to keep track of what she’s thinking.

And a party upcoming. That will be attended by Synda the spectacle smasher. Jane’s right though in that physical confrontation should be unlikely.

[SubRosa]

That is a really cool map of Balmora!

Brittany!

You really are nailing Daria's completely deadpan sarcasm. At least she is making friends. Or at least allies. In spite of herself.

Wow, Daria really is dealing with some serious side-effects from the attack. Which is only natural. Hopefully she will be able to overcome her fears. Maybe she just needs a self-esteem class... After all, Jane likes having low self-esteem. It makes her feel special...

[Renee]

Awesome, so it's sort of like when some gamers like to roleplay as themselves when they play these games, instead of an adventurer.

Hlaalu has a Yellow Book. Jeez, even in real-life here in Earth we don't have those any more.

Their dialog is making me giggle. I hope this okay! This story's funny. I still haven't watched Daria, but the way they speak reminds me of those '90s-era cartoons which Outlanders is inspired from.

Daria contemplates the presence of the Cammona Tong as she tries to schmooze her way into this gala event. Yikes.

"Great! I probably won't talk to you too much since you're not really, well, popular, but that's not because I don't like you. I just don't have much time for you."

"Believe me, I'm completely fine with that."

Ha ha!



This post has been edited by Renee: May 3 2022, 03:56 PM

[WellTemperedClavier]

@Acadian Thanks! And yeah, Daria talking over people's heads (intentionally or otherwise) happens a lot in the show, and in here.

@Subrosa Thanks. Heh. The attack in the first episode does cast a long shadow throughout the series. I found it useful as a way to remind readers that Morrowind can be a pretty dangerous place, even for someone in a relatively secure position like Daria. Granted, this is true of the real world, too.

@Renee That was part of it. Mostly, I'm trying to write from Daria's perspective, but the reason I'm having her still basically be herself is to theorize what the setting might be like from a normal perspective. Granted, this isn't the most lore-friendly interpretation of Tamriel (while it's darker than anything you see on Daria, it's generally lighter than the actual games), but it still lets me explore the more mundane aspects of a fantasy setting.

Episode 3: An Invitation

Chapter 2

"Let's see how this works out," came dad's voice from the kitchen. "A hearty Skyrim recipe with exotic Morrowind ingredients!"

Daria sniffed and caught the scent of fish mixed with local herbs. Mom paid her husband no heed, her eyes intent on a legal document she'd taken to the table with her. Quinn, meanwhile, chattered on about her friends.

"... and I told Satheri that she looked really good in blue, but that she'd look even better if she added some gold trim."

"Oh for goodness sake!" mom exclaimed. "It's like the guild still thinks we're in Cyrodiil! I have half a mind to go down to Old Ebonheart and tell them what we're dealing with up here."

"The secret," dad said, "is to use just the right amount of hackle-lo. Too much and you can't taste the fish anymore. Too little and you only taste the fish!"

Daria wondered when she should bring up the invitation. It wasn't something they expected of her. Quinn would just go right into it without hesitation, any invitation just one of many, to be considered and weighed like a new outfit for her ever-growing wardrobe.

Best for her to follow suit and be direct. It'd impress them, at least.

She opened her mouth to speak.

Quinn spoke first.

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

Dammit so much.

"The Taloris? They are an important family here," mom said, finally putting down the papers.

"Not that important," Daria said. "They don't even show up in the Yellow Book." Quinn had already stolen her glory. A bit of snark was the least she could do.

Mom rolled her eyes. "Nonsense, Daria. The Taloris might not be the most influential, but they are at least connected to everyone in Balmora, and they work closely with outlanders. Jake, did you hear that?"

"I sure did! That's why I added in just a dash of russula. Really adds that Morrowind-y flavor—"

"Jake! Are you paying any attention at all?"

"I am!" Dad rushed out of the kitchen. "Um, I totally approve of what you just said."

Mom sighed. "Quinn just informed me that the Taloris have invited the family over to a banquet on Loredas evening. I think it'd be a great opportunity for all of us."

"The Taloris? Sure, that's a great idea!"

He vanished back into the kitchen.

"It'd be a particularly good opportunity for you, Daria. You could meet a lot of potential employers at this party," mom said.

Daria feigned a thoughtful expression. "I don't know. I hear that Daedric cults are hiring a lot of savants right now. We're the only ones who can keep track of all the pesky details that go into a good ritual summoning."

Mom sighed. "Just don't embarrass us! Like it or not we need to make connections here."

Later that evening, Daria walked up to her room to find Quinn practicing the steps to an Imperial minuet. She hummed as she glided back and forth in the constrained space, visions of grand ballrooms and handsome suitors doubtlessly flitting through her mind.

"By the way, Briltasi invited me, too," Daria said.

Quinn stopped mid-step and stared.

"Is this some kind of joke?"

Daria kept at it. "Normally I wouldn't care enough to bring this up, but does Briltasi know we're sisters? Since I remember Synda being less than happy about you denying that. Dunmer take family relations very seriously."

"Of course, I told Briltasi!"

"So why did she invite me separately?"

Quinn tapped her cheek with an index finger, eyes intent. "Oh, probably because I didn't mention your name. I just said I had a sister and that she'd be coming along."

Daria let herself relax. "Good."

"Why would Briltasi invite you? You don't know anyone. Except that one girl."

"I gave Briltasi access to my extensive network of loyal assassins. Already she's climbing to the top of the Hlaalu hierarchy, a trail of dead bodies in her path."

Quinn shook her head. "You are so weird, Daria."

With that, Quinn returned to her dancing. Daria watched for a while, trying and failing to remember the nimble steps. She'd have to practice but was too tired to even consider it that night. Another thing about parties she hated. Did Dunmer even dance?

One thing was sure: she needed to get Jane to that party.



*********



Briltasi found Daria early the next day.

"My dad said he'd be happy to have a lawyer's family at the banquet, so you're in!" she squealed.

Daria inclined her head slightly, the world feeling slightly surreal. "Thank you," she said. After giving it some thought, she decided it'd be best for Briltasi to know the truth. "Did you also invite Quinn yesterday?"

"Sure! She's really popular, and she said her mom was a lawyer. Huh, kind of like yours! Are your moms friends?"

"In a manner of speaking. Quinn and I are sisters."

"Ohhh, so you're the sister she mentioned!" Briltasi said. "Wow, you two don't look alike!"

"Well..." Daria wanted to finish her line. To say: "... we used to, but we had to hire a wizard to alter her face after going into witness protection."

But she couldn't. Because like it or not, Quinn was an asset for the family and for Daria's future well-being. Everything depended on who you knew, and the world was a vast prison of gossip and backslapping and flattery. Undermining Quinn would make things worse.

"Quinn got a lot luckier in the looks department," Daria blurted out, knowing it was true and completely believable. Cheeks burned at the admission. Gods this was humiliating!

"One more thing," Daria said, steering the conversation to a new subject. "Would it be all right if I brought a friend?"

Briltasi frowned, like someone asked to do something not entirely legitimate. "Maybe. Who?"

"Jane Llayn."

"I don't think so, Daria. Her family's not reputable. I don't even know if she has a family."

Daria thought about it. "Well, you'll have servants at the party, right?"

"Of course!"

"So would one more menial really matter?" Didn't really feel right to call Jane a menial... but it was technically true.

Briltasi made a frustrated sound, halfway between a hum and a squeak.

Maybe it was best to drop it. Dealing with a boring party wasn't worth risking Morgendorffer status. Except that Synda would be there, cruel and ruthless Synda, connected to the Cammona Tong and all of Morrowind's barely hidden violence...

"Here's the thing," Daria said, speaking faster than she normally did, wanting to say her piece and see if it worked so she could stop worrying. "My family really wants to commemorate being invited to your fine, uh, party. And I thought Jane could paint a picture to capture the event."

A hell of a lie. But now she was sweating. Would Jane be all right with this?

Briltasi thought about it for a bit. "I guess it's okay if you bring her as a menial. But she should only talk to other outlanders."

Perfect. Those were the kind who'd give Jane business, anyway.

"Fine, I'll let her know," Daria said hurriedly, exhausted from the effort of the lie. "And thanks. I appreciate this. I mean that."

This post has been edited by WellTemperedClavier: May 3 2022, 03:44 PM

[Renee]

Hee! You posted the next chapter before I finished commenting! Sorry, I got interrupted as I was reading and didn't want to lose my place. Final comments up above.

I'll check out Chapter 2 in a few...

[Acadian]

Jake (Dad) is wise to focus on his herbs and spices and stay out of the social and family infighting.

"I gave Briltasi access to my extensive network of loyal assassins. Already she's climbing to the top of the Hlaalu hierarchy, a trail of dead bodies in her path."

Well, the need to make sure Briltasi knows Quinn and Daria are sisters went okay. The push to get Jane there - though quite understandable – is getting a bit complicated it seems. Daria managed to get Jane invited (sort of) but now has to sell Jane on the painting gig she just signed her Dunmer friend up for. Hope Jane’s okay with that.

Plenty of fun social intrigue here and you manage all the interactions very well, making for a very fun read.

[SubRosa]

Is dad going to make his macaroni I mean Pesto?

This sounds so much like a conversation at the Morgendorfer dinner table! Which is to say, three different conversations at once that is obliged to include mom yelling at dad for not paying attention.

I love the jokes about Daedric savants and Hlaalu assassins, because this being Morrowind...

[WellTemperedClavier]

@Renee Oops! Sorry.

@Acadian Jake tends to do that in the show as well. It has mixed results as a strategy--it does let him avoid some fights, but it also means he's not seen as especially reliable. I get it, though. And yeah, social class is an even bigger deal in Morrowind than it is here (and really, I'm blunting it quite a bit compared to what the lore indicates), so that's something the characters have to navigate.

@SubRosa Heh, good to hear that I've captured the tone.

Episode 3: An Invitation

Chapter 3

Loredas evening arrived, the rosy sunset haze carrying with it a whiff of brimstone. The sulfurous quality struck Daria as weirdly fitting as her family trekked to the elegant manors of High Town.

"Isn't this great? We're finally making our mark in Morrowind," dad said. "Soon these Dunmer will know that Big Jake's the man they need to do business with the Empire!"

"Not so loud," mom cautioned. Locals, mostly Dunmer, still crowded the market stalls negotiating last minute deals for dinner's kwama eggs.

Like a gray sea with red shark eyes, Daria thought.

Daria struggled along as best she could, wrapped up in a blue woolen robe so stiff and starched that she could probably fall asleep in it and remain standing. Wearing the damned thing felt like wearing a box that gave just enough room for her feet to shuffle across the flagstones. Quinn had something perfect for the occasion of course, a pale rose gown that hinted at her figure while staying within the bounds of modesty.

"Thanks again for getting me in," Jane said, walking behind the Morgendorffers with an easel under her arm and a backpack full of pigments. She wore one of Daria's older dresses, green and faded, baggy on her angular frame.

"Sure. You're the only one making this ordeal tolerable."

"Just sit back and enjoy the party favors," Jane said. "These things go by a lot faster after a few cups of mazte."

"I'll do what I can to get you the best booze."

"I knew you'd come in for me," Jane said, with a smirk.

They turned a corner to a pair of steep and high staircases cutting a straight path up the rocky slope to High Town. Rectangular adobe towers stood watch on either side at the top of the stairs and Daria could just see Hlaalu guards observing traffic through the vertical slot-like windows.

"Ugh, I thought this place would be elegant!" Quinn complained. "It looks like a big blocky fortress."

"That's because it is one," Daria said. "Nobles need lots of protection for when people get tired of their shenanigans."

"Enough, Daria," mom warned. "And maybe spend some time thinking about which side of the barricades you'd actually be on. You're not exactly part of the underclass."

Daria blushed, suddenly conscious of Jane standing next to her. Jane hadn't seemed to notice the comment though, her crimson eyes on the architecture ahead.

Climbing the stairs brought them to a broad and clean plaza shaded by a few well-trimmed plane trees. The homes of the rich surrounded them, stout doors facing each other across the plaza. The houses there didn't actually look all that different from the ones below—definitely bigger but more or less in the same style, just with fresher adobe and the ovoid windows filled by actual glass. More modest by far than the wealthy Imperial residences back in Stirk.

Stony hills clambered up behind the manors. High Town occupied the farthest northwest point of Balmora, between rocks and a hard place. The sour kwama smell hovered here, too, but not as strong. The murmur of the marketplace was long gone, replaced by a cold and stately silence.

Dad checked his map while mom motioned for Daria to come closer. Not sure what to expect, Daria obeyed.

"Remember our deal?" mom said.

Convincing mom to let Jane tag along hadn't been that hard. Her parents liked Jane well enough, lacking though she was in social links. But in return for this charade Daria had promised to at least try and network. Make two well-connected friends, no more than that.

"I remember," Daria said, the two words grudgingly enunciated.

"I know this isn't what you like to do. But it's just how things are."

"This one must be the Talori manor," dad said, pointing to a nearby house. A sharply rectangular second story peeked out from behind an elegantly curved balcony wall. Next to the door stood a Hlaalu guard clad head to toe in yellowing bonemold armor, a too-large sword waiting in his scabbard.

"Who goes there?" the guard asked, his raspy voice deep and echoing behind the helmet. Daria could just see red eyes peering through the slit of his visor, which reminded her of some strange animal's mouth.

Dad stuck out his hand. "We're the Morgendorffers! We've been, uh, invited to the party. I'm Jake, this is—"

"Father, mother, two daughters, and a menial," the guard said, as if reading off a checklist. An edge crept into his voice at the last bit. "You may enter."

He waited a bit for the guard to open the door, an expectant smile on his face. The guard offered only silence.

"Uh, I guess I'll show myself in."

Dad took the handle and pulled, the heavy wooden door barely budging. He grunted in surprise and tried again. Now grabbing it with both hands he wrenched it open and leaned a bit to the side so his weight would keep it that way, his teeth clenched with strain.

He let it swing shut once they were all in. The door hit the frame hard enough to rattle the entire building.

"What the hell was in that door?" he wondered, rubbing his back.

Daria took a quick look over her shoulder, noting the horizontal slats on the door's inner side.

"Reinforced. Helps against battering rams," she said.

"Not very welcoming," dad muttered.

"That's the idea."

They stood in vast square room. Curved wooden support beams wound in and out of the adobe walls to connect with a massive wooden column in the center. Leafy bittergreen vines hung from the rafters, the bright color indicating that they'd recently been plucked. The place reminded Daria of a forest.

Five long wooden dining tables with accompanying benches had been arranged in a semi-circle around the central column, surfaces already laden with lit candles and bowls of dark blue glass. Imperial-style glass-and-metal lanterns glowed from between the beams, like fairy fire burning in the darkest woods. Narrow windows on the west wall let in the last of the day's dying light. Massive serving tables along the eastern wall bore rows and rows of clay vessels while the savory smell of some kind of roast drifted out from behind a paper screen placed in front of a doorway leading to the kitchen.

A number of guests were already present. The smaller and slightly more lavish dining table at the center of the semi-circle, presumably reserved for the Taloris, remained unoccupied. Dunmer sat at the tables next to it, decked out in brightly colored frock coats and gowns cut in the latest Imperial styles. Outlander guests took positions at those farthest from the center, some with fine clothes like the Dunmer, others with drab outfits a la the Morgendorffers. Their placement around the big central pillar made it difficult for the occupants of one table to converse with any other not directly to their side. Menials, working for either the Taloris or the guests, took standing positions around the room with hands clasped and heads bowed. Jane had already moved to join them, and part of Daria wanted to stand next to her and enjoy the comparative remoteness.

Daria recognized several attendees from Drenlyn Academy. There was Jolda, a Redguard girl reputed to be one of the smartest students, clothed in a flowing pink cotton dress and her long black hair done up in cornrows. She sat between her parents, whose bejeweled golden bracelets proclaimed their wealth. Next to her father was another Redguard, this one in the smart dress tunic of a junior legion officer.

Quinn's current crop of suitors, Jonus, Julien, and Jeval, made themselves known at the table farthest from the door, eyes bright and already waving their hands to get their goddess's attention.

Quinn only smiled and gave a brief curtsy, sending the trio in paroxysms of hopeful glee.

And finally, Synda, dressed in darkness with her gray hands folded on the table. Next to her, her mother, Lynda Grilvayn, Bonded Agent to Great House Hlaalu. Synda didn't so much as look at the Morgendorffers, her lips curled in disdain.

"I hate her," Quinn whispered.

Daria froze up. Quinn still didn't know how dangerous Synda might be.

"Tempting as it might be to go after her, I suggest keeping your dislike to yourself," Daria warned.

"Oh please, Daria, how old do you think I am? I'll just gently tear her apart with insults that sound like compliments. Watch and learn."

Daria's heart skipped a beat. She wanted to tell Quinn everything—how dangerous Synda really was. But there was no way Quinn would keep that a secret. "Don't. This isn't some Cyrodiil tea party," Daria said, voice trembling slightly as she made sure to look away from Synda.

Dad ushered them to the table occupied by Jolda's family. Daria took a seat, muscles tensed as if in expectation of a blow.

Synda wouldn't hurt her here. Not in front of everyone.

But what about on the walk back home, with her whole family and Jane as targets...

"Presenting!" thundered a harsh voice, and Daria turned her head to see a tall Dunmer in what she took to be traditional robes colored a lurid yellow. His arms were crossed over his chest, eyes bulging with a fanatic's glare.

"Serjo Sedrane Talori, by Grace of ALMSIVI, House Cousin and Tradesman of Great House Hlaalu, Patriarch of Family Talori, Officer of the East Empire Company, and Gentleman of Balmora Currently and Originally, and Cheydinhal Formerly!"

The herald stepped aside. From behind him strutted forth a short-haired Dunmer who was anything but traditional, suited in a splendid deep blue coat. The skin beneath his eyes was lined with dots of raised flesh, an example of the subtle scarification seen in many highborn Hlaalu Dunmer. Next to him stood a tall human blonde in a shimmering gown. Only when Sedrane put his arm around her waist did Daria realize that the woman was actually his wife. Dunmer didn't often marry outlanders, even for money.

No wonder Briltasi seems so comfortable with us outlanders, she thought. Of course, the outlanders were still relegated to the far tables.

A smiling Briltasi followed close behind, along with a young boy wearing a coat much like his father's. A scowl flashed across the boy's face before freezing back into a more restrained expression.

Sedrane smiled and raised his arms. Most of the guests bowed their heads in response, the Morgendorffers only doing so belatedly.

"Ladies and gentlemen, visitors and natives: welcome to my humble home!" Sedrane said. "It's my honor to present you with the very best in Hlaalu hospitality on this day, which symbolizes the growing union between Morrowind and the Empire, a union reflected in my recent marriage to the lovely Asciene-Amarie."

Sedrane lifted his wife's hand to polite applause and a few stony glares from the Dunmer tables. Briltasi beamed. A good sign, Daria supposed.

"But for all these glories let us not forget those greater than us. Let us humble ourselves in honor of our deities, whether they be the tripartite gods of Morrowind or the other gods from the many kingdoms within our glorious and eternal empire."

He bowed his head and the rest of the room followed suit. Daria tried to ignore the heavenly smells drifting from the kitchen. Was Synda plotting something right now? Or was her head bowed in worship of the three mortal wizards who passed themselves off as the gods of Morrowind?

"And may we walk in ALMSIVI's grace," Sedrane announced as he finished. Smiling, he flexed his shoulders. "Back to more earthly matters. I achieved my success in the Imperial entrepôt of Cheydinhal..."

Sedrane went on to detail his history of helping the East Empire Company find the most profitable ebony and glass deposits in which to invest. Daria tuned out, hoping the drinks would soon be served.

Jodie Landon (Jolda at-Armand) - Much like her canon counterpart, Jolda is one of the very students capable of matching wits with Daria. Fortunately, they're (usually) on the same side. She also faces a lot of pressure from her demanding and upwardly mobile parents, and from being one of the very few Redguard students in Drenlyn (reflecting her canon version being one of the very few Black students in Lawndale High).

Joey (Jonus) - One of Quinn's single-minded suitors.

Jeffy (Julien) - Another of Quinn's single-minded suitors.

Jamie White (Jeval Whitethorn) - The third of Quinn's single-minded suitors. However, Jeval ends up becoming a more important character here than he does in canon. That's still a way's off, however, so for now he's just one of the boys.

Steve Taylor (Sedrane Talori) - Briltasi's father. He's wealthy and unpleasant, much like in the source material.

Some pictures of High Town as it appears in game

This post has been edited by WellTemperedClavier: May 7 2022, 07:15 PM

[SubRosa]

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

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

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

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

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