The Saga of Laprima Donnaugh Options

[Renee]

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.Dragon Bridge

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By the time they approached the village nightfall was near, but there was still enough daylight to get a glimpse of Dragon Bridge before all went dark. … And Laprima Donnaugh, Solitude’s newly-appointed ambassador, was astonished. Maybe because of the place’s name: ‘Dragon Bridge’. Such a name had conjured images of a stately, magnificent location in the Heartlander’s mind. Turrets and fortifications and at least some opulence. Perhaps not as well-designed as Solitude though, hence Elisif’s lifeline for safe harbor.

But, the reality! Place wasn’t much more than a furrow in the road. Wooden cabins and shacks. What sounded like a tavern to her left, a wood mill and smithy on the right. Nothing grand, not even close to adequate (in protective terms, at least). The tiniest burgs she’d passed through down in Cyrodiil: Pell’s Gate and White Rose and the populace which was growing around Fort Ash, for instance, had morphed into fuller-functioning little towns over time. Here in Dragon Bridge, there didn’t appear to be any balustrades, no walls of protection at all, a glaring lack of stone-usage. This was a hamlet which’d not stressed the need for serious protection over the years and decades, since there hadn’t been an upcoming war to worry about.

But as things stood now, a troop of just a dozen well-armed invaders would have no problem at all barraging right in; taking the place over in just an hour or two, assuming the village’s residents actually chose to fight.

There appeared to be no garrison. No guards! Well, a single guard wearing Haafingar’s colors did happen to stride toward them, just then. Just… one. No wonder Elisif had been so concerned with evacuation.

Yet, Laprima could also see some pride, here. The architect in her could see that at least they were upkeeping their little hamlet with pride and care. Banners, recently hung. Walls and platforms, diligently cleaned and washed. No holes or aberrations in the walls of their homes, no rotting wood. No rubble or trash heaps at all, which meant they were actively disposing their refuse, somehow. Maybe throwing what couldn’t be burned into the river she could hear gurgling somewhere nearby. Place wasn’t like the unkempt town of Bravil, for instance, with dung in the streets, garbage piled up high in some areas, stench of sweat and skooma in the air.

“Help you?” asked the guard, a Nord from downhome. He carried a torch, and did not have Bolgeir Bearclaw’s heavy local accent.

“We are from Solitude,” Mansonn stated. Best for the Imperial to speak first; Stormcloaks in disguise, we are not. “Come to bring message from the Blue Palace.”

“Ah, the delegates,” the guard replied. “We’ve gotten word you might be headed our way, and here y'are. Step this way, toward the Four Shields.” The guard pointed toward Dragon Bridge’s inn.

“Hmm. Time for that pint, Peters,” Mansonn grinned.

“Yeah, alright,” the bet-loser pouted. “Gonna get ya next time, rightly so,” he added without much enthusiasm.

<—----<<<

As they stepped into the warmth of Four Shields Tavern, Laprima realized how chilly she’d become. So much had happened during their day-long journey; for once she hadn’t paid much attention to temperature. One thing for sure, the choice of clothes she’d bought and selected for the trip had done their best to keep her from freezing. Still, she was cold. So she gathered herself before the tavern’s roaring fire pit, thawing her hands, arms, and face.

Nice and warmed, now it was time for her to put on a brave face. She’d been flustered at the Khajiit’s ambush; really getting angry that she’d been caught off-guard by that covertly-stepping cat, especially since she'd been trying to be more alert at the time. But truthfully, combat was not her forte.

Today had been her first attempt at being an archer during an actual fight, so of course she wasn’t so good yet. She’d be better at court affairs. Though she had never presented before a group of others in an official manner, she’d witnessed the process several times down in Cyrodiil. She’d (hopefully) be better at presentation than she was at marksmanship! -- Courtly Graces, the talent was called, in a tome she'd read in school. She would speak clearly before the leaders of Dragon Bridge, keeping the arrogance of General Tullius out of the story, acknowledging the plight of this vulnerable village, while trying not to insult them about their lack of security. Being a good ambassador or emissary was all about the subtler facets of speech: tone of voice, body and facial cues, mixed with moments of dramatic impulse when such things were pertinent. It was almost the same as a bard telling a story, in a way.

“Welcome to Dragon Bridge, Faida’s the name,” said the woman behind the tavern’s counter, probably a half-Nord by the way she spoke. “Something different about you," she glared, "hope you aren’t here looking to cause any trouble.”

“Oh, not at all. Am here from Solitude. In fact, might you point the way toward Dragon Bridge’s court, or statehouse? So the letter I am carrying directly from Jarl Elisif can be delivered, and with haste?”

“Court or statehouse?” the innkeeper laughed. “What does our humble home look like, the Palace of Markath?” ... She took a moment to slap her knee, and then changed to one of those why aren't you laughing with me? sort of looks on her face. Faida then became more serious, while polishing a cup. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to chuckle, just… we don’t got nothing like that here.”

“I understand. 'Tis alright. Apologies for presuming.”

“So you are the delegate,” Faida noted, “come to bring word from Solitude, eh?”

“I am.”

The innkeeper smirked. “Well, as I was saying, we haven’t got anywhere proper to deal with court matters around here, any official business is attended to these days at our lumber mill.”

“Lumber mill? Well that’ll do. That’ll do just fine,” Laprima said, keeping her countenance from flinching. “As long as our message is conveyed.”

…The moment she had fussed, concerned about bringing an elegant dress to wear before the court she’d been imagining, seemed for naught. Fact is, it seemed any such elegance might go wasted upon what looked to be a villageful of rubes. Better to meet such folk on their own level. Maybe they’d not take her as seriously, should she appear before them in fancy, frilly clothes. She'd had plenty of experience in this regard by now, of course. Laprima was the Skeever's newest barmaid, after all.

“Anyhoo, if you wait around here long enough, our current village chief, if we can refer to the luggard as such, is likely to stride in at any moment. He’s in charge while Gaius is gone.”

“Splendid,” said Laprima, receiving her plateful of bread, and bowlful of soup.

“Now. Are ya gonna rent a room, or shall I lay out a set of extra bedrolls on the floor, somewheres?”

<—----<<<

As promised, a man walked into the Four Shields not long afterwards. He glanced around a bit, before zeroing on Laprima. "Hei til deg," he began. "Are you the one from Solitude?" The man was tall, with prominent facial features. It smelled as though he'd been drinking.

"I am, aye."

The man introduced himself as Trøst, Dragon Bridge's temporary leader. He explained that Gaius Maro had gone off to some other location, due to the upcoming skirmishes which'd been happening as of late here in Skyrim. A war, it was definitely brewing, and Maro (who was also a commander) was needed somewhere else.

"Those bloody Stormcloaks!" Trøst said angrily, shaking his fist, causing the Heartlander to take a step back as his feet stumbled, the man nearly falling right before her. "They'll pay for their transgressions! Gonna send them all back to Cyrodiil!"

Laprima cleared her throat, then explained the plea from Elisif, that the peoples of Dragon Bridge could head to Solitude if they wished, where they'd be welcomed with open arms until whatever outcome of the war concluded.

"I'll just take that from you," the village leader gruffed, snatching the carefully-scribed missive from Laprima's hand. Courtly Graces? Apparently not needed for this occasion!

"Sure, just... I shall await thy decisions," the ambassador said awkwardly.

"Er, sorry," Trøst said, looking a bit sheepish. "That was rude of me. As ya can see, I'm currently three sheets to the wind, as the saying goes. Didn't expect I'd have to get all... delegatory and such." He hiccuped. "Hmm. Or is that four sheets? Ah bugger. Some such eggxpression like that."

Laprima said nothing, which was the extent of how far she would utilize her ambassadorial skills this evening.

"Make yourself comfortable," Trøst suggested, attempting a smile of comfort. "Gonna discuss with the others down at the mill. We'll let you know our decision on the morrow."

And off he went, to discuss terms at Dragon Bridge's lumber mill. (And probably return to his previous evening's plans, glugging ale until he went cross-eyed, falling onto the nearest floor.) That done, Laprima was looking forward to a night of rest. The bed she'd rented for twenty gold was just a stodgy, creaky single, which had been used by countless dozens of travelers over the years. But at the moment she could care less. She was doomed to fall into a warm bed, any bed not crawling with vermin that is, while owls hooted outside, and Masser and Secunda rose from their day's slumber.

<—----<<<

Trøst returned the next morning (rather late in the morning actually....) as affirmed. Now that it was daytime, the man appeared much more presentable. No longer drunk, anyhow. He explained that most of the villagers had been alerted to the jarl's offer, and added that already there were a few folks who wished to accompany Laprima and her guards back to Solitude.

"Most of us shall stay," he added. "Bacause these are our homes. We shall take our chances against the bloody Stormcloaks!" he roared, allowing the entire tavern to hear. "DOWN with the Stormcloaks, aye?" This caused a few of Four Shields' current patrons to join with eager cries of agreement.

..."Here, here!"

"... RIGHT you are..."

..."Down with the Stormcloaks!..."

Trøst informed that not everyone felt comfortable staying behind, however. A few would be joining the Solitudians as they trekked back to town.

"Many thanks for your time," he said sadly, offering a firm hand for shaking.

And that was Laprima Donnaugh's first foray into the world of rueful assistance.


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Trøst

Laprima Lopov'd

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Notes: Amazingly, everything just worked during today's chapter, quest-wise that is. No issues at all; even the timer script I added to make sure Trøst came back to the tavern (although as stated, he wasn't exactly prompt!) I may be actually getting good with the Creation Kit these days.

[SubRosa]

Dragon Bridge is hardly a fortified position. Though granted, they do have the bridge itself. Theoretically you could throw some up-turned wagons and logs from that lumber mill across it, and build a barricade. Which probably would not last too long against a fireball. So not really the ideal place to fight an army.

IRL, back in the 1700s and earlier this sort of state business would often by done at the local inn or tavern. Judges would hold trails in them. The army would recruit in them. The mail would be delivered to them. They were the centers of communities, rather than simply places where people got drunk and puked.

Trost is so liquored up that he wants to send the Stormcloaks back to Cyrodiil? I think he forgot that they are from Skyrim?

Drunken encounters aside, this seems to have been an easy enough mission after all. At least the part here in Dragon Bridge.

And they are going to fight it out, mostly. I have to admire their pluck, if not their prudence. I suspect that the ones who go back to Solitude are the smarter ones. After all, one could put that pluck to more effective use behind high stone walls and put up a better fight than at defenseless Dragon Bridge.

[Acadian]

Nice that Lady Donnaugh’s delegation finds the village of Dragon Bridge unmolested by Stormcloaks so far. I’m sure she found the warm inn a welcome respite from a cool evening. Not surprised that Dragon Bridge has no dedicated building or office for town business. She is right that the village is not readily defensible. Nor, I would submit, is it worth fortifying with a force that would dramatically exceed the size of its small population and split the garrison at Solitude. Elisef was wise to, instead, invite the townsfolk to partake in the safety of her walls.

Laprima was well-prepared for her emissarial duties, but her courtly graces were not needed here. I find myself hoping that a good number of Dragon Bridgers take up Elisef on her offer and, as SubRosa said, save their pluck for a battle they might be able to win.

Laprima looks fabulous in that ‘Lopov’ shot you provided!

[WellTemperedClavier]

Glad Emma's is working out! And sorry for the misspelling!

Neat idea with the healer. Are you using a mod to travel with the warriors? I know Skyrim has companions, but I vaguely remember only being able to travel with one at a time. It's been a while.

I'm not big on writing action scenes either. It's hard to keep track of who's in which position.

And my sympathies regarding your situation with caring for your mom. It's a really good thing you're doing, but I know it can't be easy.

Here we are at Dragon Bridge!

Laprima's got a point, actually; Dragon Bridge isn't as grand as the name would suggest. Though maybe that's appropriate when you consider how darn frequent dragon attacks become after a while.

Yikes, doesn't sound like Haafingar's prepared at all. But at least the place is well-kept.

The Four Shields sure sounds cozy after a long hike through cold weather.

Interesting. Laprima's now to the point where she's assessing her own combat performance. This suggests she's a quick learner, even if combat's not her forte.

Oof, court etiquette sounds stressful. But that's realistic, because it usually was.

Laprima's perspective might be a little snooty, but she is picking up on an important point: finery isn't persuasive to some crowds. And from what I know of the Stormcloaks, they'd likely have more respect for someone in rough, sturdy clothing.

Hm, how do you pronounce Trøst? Regardless, it sounds like he's pretty overwhelmed with the situation. I suppose I can't blame him. Also, did he say he wanted to send the Stormcloaks back to Cyrodiil? Would that be back to Windhelm?

Looks like Trøst wants to stand and fight for now. Wonder how much of a fight he can really put up.

[Renee]

Gonna reply comments tonight. Story tomorrow. Still haven't done the gaming parts yet, yikes. That's gonna be fun.

@SubRosa: Hey, that's true. They could just block the bridge. Supplies would get cut off from that direction, but there's still supplies coming from Solitude's docks, assuming the Stormies in the woods are dealt with first. I like that you're speculating!

Wow, I had no idea taverns were places of conduct as well as places to get [censored]faced. Maybe I did know this though, somehow. It kind of makes sense, in a way, as taverns are places a lot of adults gathered.

Trost is so liquored up that he wants to send the Stormcloaks back to Cyrodiil? I think he forgot that they are from Skyrim?

@Acadian: Indeed (regarding warming up before the fire). When she went to visit Sirdasa, each of the three or four times she'd wind up getting nearly frozen to death due to the Frostfall mod. ❄ However I've got Frostfall set so if combat happens, this temporarily freezes (ha ha) whatever's behind the mod which lowers a character's core temperature. So those fights were dangerous for her, dangerous for her companions, but this was blessing in the sense that it was the first time I didn't get any warning messages due to being too cold.

I find myself hoping that a good number of Dragon Bridgers take up Elisef on her offer a

Mm hmm, some of them will! You'll see.

Thanks! (regarding Lopov shot). Lopov is having a tough time, btw. He's had surgery on his eyes 2x by now. Hopefully the 3rd surgery will fix whatever is wrong.


WellTemperedClavier: It's okay.

I am using a mod to make the sodiers travel with her, it's called Laprima's World.esp and the "soldier" part is based on my very own idea: Traveling with an NPC, which I began working on over a year ago. My healer travels with NPCs (an NPC leads the party, although I can also make the party follow my character if things go awry). This mod idea will never go on Nexus; I feel most folks would either dislike Traveling with an NPC or they'd get bored. But what's going on in Laprima's game is a modified version of what's going on in my healer's game, only diff is Laprima's an archer, not a healer.

Thanks (regarding mom). Was another tough week, not as bad as last week though.

Nobody has brought this up, but (regarding Laprima's thoughts on Dragon Bridge) it's possible some folks might conclude she's a bit of a snob, and maybe she is, in a way. But it's really her very first time seeing what places outside of Cyrodiil are like. Solitude, with its many walls, is merely another Cyrodiilic town in a way. So she's shocked at DB, but is wise enough not to run her mouth too much in regards to her opinions.

In the future Laprima might get to use her Courtly Graces in a more proper way.

Hm, how do you pronounce Trøst?

Not sure, actually. I put some word into an online translator: English to Norwegian, and what compiled was the word Trøst. I don't even remember what word I put in, but when translating back to English, apparently the word translates to "solace".

All: Story should be up some time tomorrow morning. Ciao.



This post has been edited by Renee: Mar 9 2024, 03:44 AM

[Renee]

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Kyllä, me Olemme Niitä

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. Middas, 17th of Sun’s Dusk, mid-morning

Outside the Four Shields the Weather Gods were hammering the point home: Yes it is still winter, and yes the snow is falling. They were getting a rather late start as well.

And there indeed were a few folks huddled and waiting. The evacuees. Leaving their homes behind, moving into the big city on the hill. Laprima did not know what to say to these folks, how to begin. But there appeared to be five in all: an adult male with gray hair, a couple adult females (one who was tall, a virtual giantess in fact, the other one short), and two children: a boy and a girl.

The man walked toward her, so she spoke to him first. “You are the ones coming with us?”

“Emme puhu kyrodiilaista,” he said, gesturing toward his mouth.

“Ah,” said Peters, the Nord guard. “These are true Nordics, from deep countryside. These folks, they don’t speak the common language. Probably spent their whole lives interacting only rarely with the outside world, outside to them, anyway. Not sure why they'd be here in Dragon Bridge.” He turned to face the group. “Kyllä, me olemme niitä, joiden kanssa matkustat,” he told them.

“What did you say?” asked Laprima.

“Just said: ‘yes, we are the ones you shall travel with’.”

“Thank you,” Donnaugh did a little curtsy before the refugee group, common politeness. “Ask them: are they ready to commence?”

The gang of five appeared literally to be carrying the clothes they were wearing, a pack upon each of their backs, and whatever was in each of their hands. The man was carrying a pitchfork, for instance. One of the women, the giantess, had a large sword sheathed behind her shoulders.

“Have they got any livestock, a horse or a mule?” Laprima asked Peters. “Animals can carry much more, if so. Tell them we are willing to wait.”

Peters communicated the ambassador’s words, and then stood patiently while the men and women of their group conferred for a minute or two. “Meidän on lähdettävä kiireesti, meillä on lapsia. Muut seuraavat eläinten mukana,” the man addressed Laprima’s translator.

“Alright,” said Peters. “He’s telling us they want to leave more hastily, because Myna here has children,” he nodded toward the shorter woman. “Others will sojourn to Solitude in upcoming hours, or days. They shall possibly bring livestock.”

“Splendid. Well let us get moving.”

With that, the party of eight trooped off, walking the road to Solitude.

Laprima and Peters led the way, striding fast. Mansonn lagged behind a bit, immersed within the migrants. Overnight, the two guards had done their best at repairing their bruises and lacerations with standard gauzes and ointments, but neither of them was entirely healed.

A contingent of three figures wearing gold-colored armor stood just outside town. With them was a man shod in rags, wrists bound together. The sight shocked Laprima, but nobody else flinched. "Was odd," she stated to Peters.
"Thalmor," he answered. "They are elves, mostly high elves, who've sided with us."

"Well, not entirely true," Mansonn stated, catching up to the frontrunners. "The Thalmor are indeed aligned with us, but only because they've inserted themselves into the fray via forceful measures."

"True," Peters replied. "They got their own headquarters up the hill. That much I know. But it is like they are op'rating their own game. Not so much interested in returning the Empire to its former glory, but more like they gots their own agenda. Whutever that may be."

Laprima felt curiosity on the subject, but said nothing. She refused to become distracted by conversation. Their task was to get to Solitude safe, and she felt particularly edgy and wary, watching the road for trouble. She noticed that the group of Nordics they were accompanying were absolutely silent. Even the children. All of them, stoic and watching. These folks had lived through adversity before, it seemed. They had weathered those storms; traveling toward the big city with minimal possessions was yet another of these.

The group walked past an intersecting road which branched up the mountain. Nothing to see, nothing to fear so far. Here was the spot where the Khajiit had tried to rob her the day before; already his corpse was nowhere to be seen. Maybe the wolves and vultures had gotten to it.

After an hour or so, they passed the approximate area where Sirdasa lived by the riverside, Laprima recognized the terrain. Snow had stopped falling at some point, but the sun remained hidden. Another hour passed, everyone trudged on. Laprima began picking flowers which grew by the roadside, which was a bit of indulgence; a habit she found hard to avoid. Normally this might've been a problem, as gathering thistle and mountain flowers meant a loss of alertness. But they had traveled most of the way by then, Katla's farm not far ahead.

Ironically, her desire for decorative flora saved some trouble.

"Peters! ... Mansonn!" she scream-whispered, "... up the hill!"

The guards had strayed too far ahead by then however, could not hear her warnings. On the hillside road were two individuals who had the same look of affront and menace as the bandits from the day before. Already, they'd noticed her presence, already they were moving toward! So Laprima hunkered down, grabbed for her bow; this, then that. The process had already become instinctive!

Next thing, everyone was involved! Everyone except the two guards, anyhow. Mansonn and Peters were slow to act, while all three of the grown migrants rushed into melee.

"Is this what you want, huh? You want summa this?!" one of the bandits taunted.

"Jeg skal ta deg ned!" cried the giantess as she brandished her greatsword.

Lady Donnaugh nocked an arrow, but then had to carefully avoid hitting the three farmers who were now deep in the fray. Limbs and shoulders ... slashes and parries.... the elder man used his pitchfork to skewer one of the opponents while the children vacated the scene! By her count, Laprima was only able to pierce the bandits a couple times with carefully-aimed arrows, but it was more important that she not hit anybody on her side, and thankfully, she did not.

As before, the battle was fierce, and happened so quickly it was over before she knew it. There were two important facets of difference, however, things which Laprima herself barely noticed until later: 1). The process of transforming from common road walker to potentially-deadly archer had happened more seamlessly. 2). She didn't spend any time at all mourning the fallen, as she had the previous day after bringing that shock mage down. Without really realizing it, she was surely becoming battle-hardened.

Good thing was, the journey was nearly done. Though she had no idea what time of day it might be, at least there was still plenty of light to see by. Katla's Farm passed by on their right, which meant the gates of Solitude were just ahead. Laprima worried that perhaps Tullius would already have a bunch of his men barring their return. They’d be standing in place, a half-dozen or so ready to block the evacuees from entering. But there was no contingent of guards in any such formation. Only the pair usually stationed at each side of Solitude’s entryway. These fellows nodded and waved at the incomers. "I'd be a lot warma and a lot happia with a bellyful of mead," one of them joked. Nothing more. Perhaps Tullius's threats against Elisif had conceded.

And now that they were here, Laprima was not sure what to do; where to take the group of migrants. Nobody at the palace had gotten this far with instructions. But she needn’t have worried. Once inside the town’s inner doorway a representative of the Blue Palace approached the group, and explained that she would take them somewhere temporary, yet also safe.

Lady Donnaugh was relieved. Sometimes, everything did go right! A huge worry off her mind, as she’d already developed a bond with the Nordics. She hugged them and gave each child an apple from Solitude’s markets.

By then she was really wanting to see Chamany. So she forced herself into Castle Dour’s dungeon, despite being bone-tired from walking all day. And what a surprise! The man was still locked up of course, but otherwise seemed to be doing well.

His cell was brighter than the last time she’d visited, because the guards had allowed him plenty of candles. He also now had a dresser, a small desk, several books stacked about, and what looked to be a few empty bottles.

“They allow you to consume wine?”

Her visit was brief, only because she was struggling to stay awake. The next morning she woke early, then waited for Elisif to make her way into court. Laprima was wearing grubby clothes, already looking forward to heading back to the Skeever, already wanting to return to everyday normalcy.

"You have done a great service and have exceeded expectations," aunt Elisif chirped. "Just to let you know, Laprima, already I have plans to send representatives to other locales here in Skyrim, for a variety of reasons. Some of these tasks shall be delegated this way and that despite the onus of Tullius, but I'd prefer to hand over any of the more official matters to you. Because it was you who were able to relocate even a few poor souls into hallowed shelters. So perhaps, if you'd like to travel again, these appointments shall be yours."

"Really so?" Laprima, now looking forward to transforming back to her usual job of serving wench, cleaning spilled drinks and backtalking that ne'er-do-well Gisli (who, let's all remember, is Erikur's sister) was incredulous. Could she really be called upon to attain much loftier pursuits, in the name of spreading whatever words need be delivered, all across the land?

"In the meantime, there is some compensation," the jarl said, pointing to a fist-sized pouch on a nearby table. "We are not sure what is to come in the nearby future, already there is word that the Legion has taken Fort Neugrad for instance, which means a win for our side. But for now, you may return to your everyday duties."

"Uh. Many thanks."

"Perhaps this war shall soon be declared, and all these worries shall come to naught."

If only this were to come true! With those words spoken, Elisif's niece headed off to work, where she the usual small conflux of tavern goers were ready and waiting for breads and ales.


—---------------------------------------------------

Fighting two more - (guards are nowhere to be seen!)

Return to Solitude

Quest Updates

Chamany, Living Large in the Bighouse

Back to work

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Notes: I used separate quest & dialog structures for the guards and the migrants, a heck of a lot of work in addition to the actual story, but there weren't any major calamities. Amazingly, nobody lost their lives (except those two bandits). But it's partially because the road had already been cleared of scumbags the day before.

Forsooth!

[Acadian]

And it’s off to Solitude with her pair of guards and small ragtag group of refugees.

The highlight of this bandit attack was how resourceful both Laprima and her refugees were at defending themselves without help from those two negligent guards. The guards had one purpose and dropped the ball.

Regardless, Ambassador Donnaugh successfully escorts her charges to Solitude where she is quickly (and thankfully) relieved of their care and feeding.

Elisef is appreciative and even hints at more such missions for her niece.

[SubRosa]

Will the True Nords please stand up. Well, here they are.

Is that Finnish you are using for their language?

The Thalmor. *hiss* I am with Peters here. The Thalmor have their own agenda, and it isn't for anyone else's benefit.

A nice day of picking flowers turned deadly pretty quick, as is wont to occur in Skyrim. Laprima is a lot more cautious and courteous with aiming her arrows than any of my companions ever were!

Well, that worked out well for everyone but the bandits. So well I see that Laprima has gotten herself a promotion to full time ambassador! Congrats!

[macole]

Finnish and Norwegian for the giantess, nice touch.

Do you use a translator?

The Thalmor are giving the Altmer a bad name. Why the Psijics put up with them is beyond me.

This post has been edited by macole: Mar 11 2024, 04:53 AM

[WellTemperedClavier]

Oh, neat! Yeah, it's cool that TES lets you change things around that way.

Laprima being a bit of a snob makes sense, given how she was raised. Social gulfs can be enormous, especially societies like Tamriel. Even the most progressive-minded noble would be affected.

Hm, the snow will make evacuation a lot more complicated.

Ooh, I like how the rural Nords speak their own language. I don't blame Bethesda for defaulting to a continent-wide "Common" tongue. It'd be a huge pain in the butt to try and include different languages. But realistically, there'd be a lot of linguistic variety in Tamriel.

Out of curiosity, did you hammer out the details? The repeated "emme" makes me think you did (and kyrodiilaista must have something to do with Cyrodiil).

At least the refugees seem pretty hardy. Suppose as rural Nords they'd have to be.

I'm surprised Laprima's not warier around the Thalmor. The Great War wasn't that far back. But she does have a job to do.

Okay, looks like a reprise of the bandit encounter. But I think Laprima's better prepared this time.

Ooh, interesting twist. The refugees are pretty tough and they aren't going to put up with a bunch of highwaymen. Laprima's big challenge might be not to hit them by mistake!

And sure enough, she's becoming more accustomed to this life.

Looks like she did her job. And it looks like she's also going to learn the hard lesson that doing her job well doesn't mean an end to her labors; it just means they'll pile more on her back! But she can take some satisfaction in knowing she improved her status in court and also helped some people in need.

[Renee]

Hey, looks like we've got a new story in Fan Fiction: Winstad Manor! Looking forward to delve into that sometime today or this week. Firstly though, time to continue LPD.

Yes, Sir Acadian?

The highlight of this bandit attack was how resourceful both Laprima and her refugees were at defending themselves without help from those two negligent guards. The guards had one purpose and dropped the ball.

Absolutely. I have no idea what the heck happened there! They were all about defending their charge on the way to DB; maybe the fact I boosted their Health back to nearly-full with the console (trying to simulate some sort of medical attention, because I forgot to throw healing potions into their inventories when I created them). had something to do with it.

More important though was Laprima's reaction to the brawl, simulated by me pushing buttons and operating movement mushrooms. It felt awkward at first, trying to use a bow in this game. I've had archers in Morrowind & Oblivion for years now. Skyrim, it's still pretty new. On top of that, she's having to aim while trying not to hit anybody on her side. But the process went a little smoother this time, just a little bit.


I need coffee. ☕ My niece danced this past weekend (she's 11, does competitive dancing) and afterwards we all went out to B'more and I had a bit too many. Yes, 'Rosa Florens.

Is that Finnish you are using for their language?

Pretty sure it's Norwegian, but it might be Finnish. I opened up Bing's version of Google Translate. I wanted somebody here online to help make sure everything is accurate, because sometimes those translator programs aren't able to capture all the nuances of language, but [ahem] he refused. Even so, the goal was to add some breadth to Skyrim as portrayed in this tale, making it seem like not all folks in Tamriel speak the 'common' language.

Yeah, the Thalmor suck. Pretty great antagonists to fight, though. They say funny things such as "You cannot comprehend the power I wield!" as they try to take us.

Indeed, Laprima is now Elisif's favorite ambassador, or delegate, or whatever she's now become. As well as a server, and a half-dozen other pursuits. Basically, a Jill Of All Trades in the making!


How you doing, macole? Hey, you still got that nehru jacket!

Do you use a translator?

Oh yes, I do. Have some coffee. ☕ But yeah, I do. In the original tablegames from way back there was more than one language, remember? And this was also truth in Daggerfall's gigantic list of skills.

I can remember being a kid watching Star Trek, and then in the summer of '77 watching the original Star Wars, going back to theatre 3x actually, as we all became obsessed with the original Star Wars! Occasionally there was an individual, or a robot, or a creature which spoke some language other than English. Which only makes sense.

But then later there were Star Trek: Deep Space Nine and Empire Strikes Back! and other sequels. In both these series everyone speaks English, from what I recall. Which kind of was disappointing (to me) because it's like the producers are making sure everything is catered to the English-speaking audience; diversity be damned. Well, on the one hand I understand some watchers of TV and movies find it tedious to read subtitles which go along with the translations. I promise not to 'dumb down' Laprima's tale in this way, although it'll be rare she'll come across anyone who doesn't speak the common language.


Hello there, keyboard player.

Out of curiosity, did you hammer out the details? The repeated "emme" makes me think you did (and kyrodiilaista must have something to do with Cyrodiil)

I did not; I used a translator. Have no idea how accurately it worked, because I only speak English, with very minimal grade-school Spanish and some German. But I know from chatting up various ppl here online from other countries that those translators don't always capture nuances and such. But wow, you're right. Seems the translator did translate Cyrodiil to Kyrodillaista!

Hardy's a good word. Wherever those Nordics are from, we can assume they haven't got a garrison nearby to assist them protect their farm or homestead, they've had to defend their own turf.

And it looks like she's also going to learn the hard lesson that doing her job well doesn't mean an end to her labors; it just means they'll pile more on her back!

This is what we want though right? And also what Laprima wants, in a way, as it turns out. I mean, she could happily continue serving customers at the Skeever and for the rest of this story, but even from her point of view she's wanting bigger things.

Looking forward to Burnt Sierra's Winstad Manor.

[Renee]

.
_________________

Jill of all Trades

_________________

During upcoming days and nights, our protagonist returns to her previous, non-venturous life. The vaunted moments of fear, moments of trial, and moments of ultimate attainment quickly fall into the category of bookended events, as if they never happened. Memorable, yes, but also far and away from everyday pursuits.

Nevertheless as hinted, eventually comes the time when such things, they shall change. Let us peruse.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Turdas, Sun’s Dusk 18: The barmaid returns to her day job. Other than a couple new faces, a pauper who tips rather grandly, and a drunken laborer who tries to get frisky, her shift is unremarkable. On this day she pays another visit to Chamany, whose cell is now a little brighter, his bookshelves a little more filled, and his floor a little more populated by empty wine bottles.


Fredas, Sun’s Dusk 19: The prospective actress makes her way back to Bard’s College, where she fears she’s lost her part in the college’s upcoming play. But her worries are for naught. Headmaster’s Trial has been canceled. The play’s leading actor decided at some point to step up and join the Legion; he's headed off to war. Though the actress is disappointed, she also understands the truth. Elisif could need her assistance at any point. Therefore she cannot spread her time too thin, especially now.

Play terminated, the noblewoman spends the rest of the morning (into afternoon) taking another Speech lesson from Giraud Gemane. Hundreds are paid, yet she still maintains thousands, most of which is locked in a dresser in her room. She’s got a bit of guilt concerning this hidden stash of money, most of which was earned while committing one of Skyrim’s grandest crimes in the Year 201. But she’s long decided that she can’t just forfeit all this coin. And at least (she rationalizes) she’s doing good things with the funds, spending her wealth wisely. Putting money toward speechcraft classes, warm clothing, and more arrows for her quiver. Not squandering on worthless endeavors, such as skooma, liquor, or boorish activities.

She makes a mental note to donate some of her riches to the refugees of Dragon Bridge. Perhaps she can even begin a trust; a repository of monies earmarked to assist anyone from outside of Solitude within dire straits. She's confident her very own aunt would certainly add to this trust, if she hadn’t already considered such a thing.


Loredas, Sun’s Dusk 20: The archer decides to sleep in rather late, then returns to Archer’s Row. The day is Loredas. The Skeever already has a barmaid who works weekends. So she spends most of the day hitting targets, instead. As she does so she gets plenty more tips, advice, and stories from the soldiers at hand.

She learns new terms from them, such as ‘draw’ (the act of pulling an arrow into the bowstring and then maintaining tension before loosing), ‘rest’ (the area on the bow’s handle where an arrow’s shaft guides through, hopefully improving accuracy), ‘grip’ (the actual part of the bow she’d hold with her left hand), ‘serving’ (the central portion of bowstring, where arrows were notched). Thicker serving meant the string would last longer, but would also limit the impact each arrow might have, once it pierced its target. The soldiers of Archer's Row, they taught her these things.

There’s also the term ‘hand tremors’; tiny vibrations felt in one's hands and fingers while drawing, then maintaining tension. Sirdasa, had tried to explain how to avoid hand tremors, just without using fancy terms, by partially drawing at first, and then pulling the arrow more firmly once aim and stance had been established. After an entire afternoon of shooting, the strength in the novice archer's arms increases while the amount of tremors within her hands also increases. Especially true, assuming she does not take a few moments of respite between each shot.


She also learns of legendary Third Era archers, who've resided throughout Tamriel's past.

1). Ana Khannda, the House Hlaalu Dunmer who’d become known for being one of the few to complete the Seven Graces of Tribunal Temple in Morrowind, and several other grand accomplishments. Ana was rumored to be so good at shooting, it was rare she’d worry about enemies getting too close. She wasn’t really ‘famous’ or as well-known as some others; mostly her name would only be mentioned by those well-familiar with the history of Tamriel’s archers.

2). Aerin of Valenwood (otherwise known as Lady Saga), the great ranger-adventurer, who often backed her marksmanship with a variety of magics. Saga had the ability to summon bears and rats, for instance. Could make herself invisible, was an expert naturalist, and tamer of animals. She rode upon a deer! Saga also had a survivor’s instinct for the outdoors, could live in wilderness for weeks at a time, subsisting only on leaves, mushrooms, nectars, and other such products of flora.

3). Buffy the Bowgirl, a Bosmer well known for her assistance during the Oblivion Crisis, though she wasn’t the one who’d directly assisted Brother Martin defeat Mehrunes Dagon. Buffy used spider silk for her bowstrings, and could also back her archery with a variety of magical effects. An example: she knew how to cause enemies to turn against each other, frenzying or controlling them from a distance, until only she and perhaps one goofed-out opponent remained standing. The Bravillite could make herself disappear should things really turn nasty, causing a channfear (a small Daedric being with a nasty ability to reflect damage) to appear in her place. On top of this, Buffy's bows were imbued with a magical effect which assisted draw, limiting hand shock. Because Buffy herself wasn't actually that strong.

All three gals were known to've been experts at alchemy as well, and often laced their arrows with poisons. Since Laprima had already delved into the world of the potion-mixer a bit, here she is ahead of the game.

The soldiers of Archer's Row mention several others, but it was those three who strike the imagination. Perhaps because their stories and methods were so unique

She listens to the soldiers of Castle Dour, by now they know who she is: she's the queen's relative, the one who traveled with Mansonn and Peters, right? Archery is wonderful, they say, as long as the shooter’s able to take his or her foe down from a distance. At some point though, it is also good to have something else, some other plan to fall back upon should things turn for the worse, just as the three elves mentioned had done some two-hundred-odd years ago.

For most archers, of course, the answer might be carrying a secondary weapon: a one-hander sword or a mace, to slash ‘n’ bash those enemies who survive initial impact, assuming the archer actually injures with a faraway missile. Lady Donnaugh feels that these sort of options are not for her, however. The idea of up-close-and-personal melee combat … blood and guts splashing everywhere… yukk!

So, perhaps she too should consider backing her marksmanship with some form of magic, just as those legends from ages past had done. This could become especially necessary, might she find herself not in the company of protective guards. Because one thing was for sure: Laprima Anne Donnaugh is considering Elisif’s offer. Is looking forward to stepping toward the implied challenge such an offer entails. Which means plenty of time traveling the roads, roads which bandits and monsters and hostile animals call home.

So… magic. But which school of magic? She already knows a bit of Restoration, but what else? Alteration? Conjuration? Destruction? Illusion?

Once upon a time there was a sixth school to choose from: Mysticism, so called because it was least understood. Over the centuries, Mysticism had become blended with the other schools, as its derivations became better known. But gone were some of this school's most famous effects. The Grey Wizard for instance, mysterious man who'd become Arch Mage down in Cyrodiil, then its Champion against the Oblivion Crisis, could walk on water, could detect life from great distances if desired. In Morrowind, prospective magicians could learn how to mark a spot, and then teleport instantly to that same spot later in time. And so on.

Apparently such things were no longer possible. This storyteller is getting ahead of the true sequence events, however... Here, let's get back on track.


Sundas, Sun’s Dusk 21, midnight: The magical apprentice sleeps a few hours, then wakes herself in the middle of the night so she can confer with Sybille Stentor. Turns out, the palace’s vampire-in-plain-sight also happens to be its sole merchant of wizardry, who sells magical tomes from all of Fourth Era Skyrim’s major disciplines. Sybille is also an expert trainer in the School of Destruction, and offers to teach a thing or two from this school.

"Would you like to become a devout disciple of Destruction?" Stentor queries.

The apprentice considers the notion over a cup of cooling tea, then decides against it. Thing is, Destruction is pretty much the same as archery, in the sense that both disciplines utilize best from a distance. Something which can be affected more closely shall perhaps be needed. According to Sybille, Destruction had at one time included plenty of touch-style magics. Touch an enemy with a spark, or freeze or broil the enemy with one's own hands, and down they'd hopefully go. It'd also been possible to absorb their health, their agility, perhaps their strength, and so on. Touch spells were popular during the Third Era, yet are no longer in vogue in the Fourth, at least not here in Skyrim, with just one exception. As far as Sybille knows, there is one old master, and aged Dunmer, who still teaches touch spells, as well as some of the fancier methods from the Mysticism school, for those determined enough (and wealthy enough) to seek her. Only problem: to get to her, students needed to trek to the College of Winterhold first, which is located far, far away from Solitude.

The apprentice spends a moment picturing the bandits they’d encountered, the cat-burglar who’d tried to rob her, the wolf and the lynx Sirdasa had taken down, not to mention Sirdasa herself. She still owns the magical blade given to her by Sybille. And she knows she can potentially poison this blade and use it for closer-styled combat. Still, she pines for other options.

So, no to Destruction, and no to the idea of blades, except perhaps as a very final choice after others had failed. “I do like the ideals Illusion can bring,” she finally decides after listening to her mentor a bit. Why, just a couple or three or four weeks ago, she’d been fantasizing turning herself invisible, so she could sneak by her watchful aunt, avoiding all those awkward moments of public conversation. “You are saying, I might find fit to make myself disappear if I engage into Illusion magic?”

“The notion is possible, though not until after many months of practice,” Sybille answers. “Maybe years. But aye, plenty of magicians have eventually attained to the point of disappearing into thin airs, then escaping their foes altogether.”

Many months, maybe years. The information dismays the magical apprentice.

“However," Stentor continues, "as an early affect pertaining to this school you shall also gain the ability to calm your opponents, and possibly cause them to turn on one another, and these sorts of dissuasion are easier to obtain.”

Hmm. These were just the things those three great archers from Yesteryear were able to accomplish: Ana, Saga, and Buffy. Which edges Laprima's decision.

“Conjuration might also be an appropriate option,” the court wizard adds with a wink.

At the moment however, Laprima’s not entirely thrilled about ‘conjuring dead things’ to fight the living. The idea simply doesn’t appeal.

She’s also not interested in spreading her potential magical prowess too thin. Best to stay focused upon just one school, thinks she. So she purchases two spells from Solitude's court wizard: Candlelight and Calm. Candlelight, which can be cast over and again in her own time, lighting up her room if desired, allowing magical progress while not in the presence of enemies. And Calm, so she can potentially cause enemies to drop their aggressive pursuits. Both of these are common and generic effects (for that's another facet of Fourth Era magic compared to Third, most wizardry these days is similar enough, gone are the days when bizarre and complicated effects were studied and utilized, such as that bowgirl disappearing while enemies closed in, causing a lesser Daedra to seemingly take her place).

The apprentice buys her new spells, then delights at illuminating her room as she practices one of them.


Sundas, Sun’s Dusk 21: The ambassador gets her next calling. On this day, which just happens to be exactly one month after her twenty-first birthday, Solitude's jarl calls her top delegate to the throne.

“Laprima! At attention! Your services are next to be needed in…”

And so continues the saga of Laprima Anne Donnaugh, Jill of all Trades, her plight unfurling before her.

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

Notes: 1). Thank you Acadian, for allowing the use of Buffy's name and methods in this week's chapter.

2). The Grey Wizard was a PS3 character who started off as a scribe and who (in my head-canon) wrote a lot of the scrolls we find in TES: IV's random loot. He eventually became my Arch Mange and CoC long ago on PS3. I'll try to find a picture of the old geezer.

3). Usually my process after dropping the latest story is to delight in reading one of yours: usually Rosa's or Clavier's. But I'm too sick right now! So I'll catch up some time this week. Ciao.

This post has been edited by Renee: Apr 4 2024, 08:25 PM

[Acadian]

So the barmaid and young mystic archer enjoys a stable routine before once again being called to duty by her Aunt Jarl. I expect that new calm spell will come in handy as she travels for dealing with foes that get too close. She is certainly devoting herself to the craft (mystic archery).

Thank you for the flattering mention of my bowgirl and the small part she plays in inspiring Laprima.

[SubRosa]

So it is back to ordinary life for Laprima, with some hiccups like the canceled play due to the war.

And some experience points spent on her archery. And even some archer history. I smiled at the mention of past characters such as Ana Khannda and Lady Saga. And Buffy!

In Oblivion my archer characters often relied on blocking with the bow and using Touch Destruction spells for when things got too close and personal. They could deal out the most damage for the least cost. But that doesn't work in Skyrim. There are no touch spells, and you have to empty your hands to ready a spell, so you cannot block with the bow at the same time. I found summoning an ally before a battle to be the best option. Or doing so if someone got too close and running away to let the summoning get into it with the enemy.

So Illusion it is then. Time to get invisible.

[Renee]

Hey, we all make mistakes, but I made a whole slew of them this time, which I just corrected. Was thinking maybe I'd just let them fly, and if I hadn't dedicated a part of the chapter to mentioning someone else's character maybe I would've. But it kept bothering me, all these nits! So I gave the entire tale a once-over. Much better now.

Will catch up to the stories of others some time this week!

[macole]

Renee:
A well-reasoned approach to selecting a school of magic to which you will devote your study.

I did miss my favorite School of Magic, Mysticism, in Skyrim. For me Mysticism was the greatest of the magic schools and Skyrim’s magic felt empty without it.

Hope you are feeling better soon.

This post has been edited by macole: Mar 19 2024, 08:07 AM

[Renee]

True, 'Rosa. I forgot we can block with bows. That would've been a good thing to do when she got attacked by that Khajiit, who was right in her face the whole time (ignoring the guards)! Yes, the whole method for Skyrim is different, in the sense that we have to have something going on with each hand, spells included, blocking included, everything included. It's pretty awkward, considering in Oblivion we could use an entirely different key or trigger or whatever for casting spells.

It's all because of the Shout key. But the good thing is, on PC, those characters who aren't Dragonborn can use this key for some other function. In LPD's game I can 'turn on' headtracking for instance.

I did consider your characters, too btw. The only one who I know might be an archer is Teresa, but I wasn't entirely sure, and I didn't want to do any injustices by guessing. I mostly know Buffy from numerous posts Acadian made in the original Bethsoft forums, during which nubies would show up and ask questions about archery.


You're welcome, Acadian. Yes, that's the thing about this story in comparison to just about all my others, there's a baseline of activity which Laprima has become attuned to, and can fall back on. I could actually just play her game as a barmaid roleplay, negating all the action and ambassador stuff if I wanted, and be rather satisfied with this. Problem is, this wouldn't make much of a story after a while.

So then there are some other pursuits such as Alchemy and Archery which progress more towards things she'll occasionally need to implement.


Thanks Vampire Hunter. Halfway through editing last week I realized my gal is a JOAT in a sort of way! Not so much with the game's list of Skillz but with other stuff, some of which is officiated in Fantasy Trip as well as Beth's official 18.

There was a lot of turmoil back when Skyrim was released about the lack of a sixth school of magic, as well as no Spellmaker, no Levitation, no Mark & Recall, etc. but none of this bothered me. I simply 'explained' it through Skyrim's magicians aren't as adept as those in earlier eras.

Thanks, I am feeling better. No messing around with drink or skooma this weekend! 🍾


ALL: I made some mistakes last week, beyond all the grammar mistakes, not that there's any huge consequences. Candlelight is part of the Alteration school, not Illusion. It's because Light spells were always Illusion in earlier editions. 💡 Also, Laprimaâ€'s birthday is the 29th, not the 24th. Oops. The 24th was her first day in Skyrim, so she's been in Skyrim for an entire month by now.

This upcoming chapter, I'm not as satisfied about as some of the others. I could've written it an entirely different way which would've been more efficient. But it's done. Might as well post it.

This post has been edited by Renee: Mar 23 2024, 01:38 PM

[Renee]

.
___________________


.An Odd Curtsey


___________________

“Laprima!” the jarl announced, just as the younger woman entered the palace’s court. “At attention!”

“Aye, madam. I am here.” Already the oddly-mixed feelings of dread and curiosity she’d been anticipating, they were also here. And Lady Donnaugh certainly knew why.

“Well firstly, apologies in advance, dear niece. As I must firstly state that the events to come shall not be easy, for any of us, for all of us. Sending our own flesh, our own siblings, our own relations off into the countryside, such things are not simple….

“But… as you know. Due to unfortunate circumstances pertaining to the upcoming war, the matters to be divulged are wont to intrude upon all our daily routines. Yours, mine, all of us here.”

Niece Donnaugh nodded.

“Speaking of daily routines, I can see you are ready and dressed for the Winking Skeever.”

Laprima nodded again, a little too vigorously this time, betraying subconscious sentiments. “Mmm hmm, I’ve got my sculleries on, surely. Are a change of plans to be needed?”

“Not immediately, not as of right now, no. But soon.”

“Alright,” Laprima answered, thinking of the moment’s irony. Because here she was, dressed in the grubby clothes of a wench while standing before Haafingar’s leader, who also happened to be her mother’s only sister. Niece had defied her aunt nearly a month ago so she could work at a place of commoners! At the time, this had been such a controversial thing. – But now here she was, still wearing one of her barmaid outfits. Headed off to work, yet being interrupted so she could further the plans which could potentially affect at least a portion of Skyrim’s strategic arena.

“Well, you know what it is I am about to request,” the jarl stated grimly. “And believe you me, I wish such things, they hadn’t been destined to this point. So let me ask firstly, would it be prudent, Laprima, that you are surely, inwardly prepared to travel the lengths and breadths of Skyrim? - A portion of our great province, anyhow. Before arriving at the next locations upon our roster? So that our message might be duly conveyed?”

Niece nodded again, taking in the unexpected moment of silence which followed. One of those moments many of us take, once we realize we’ll be looking back toward this exact point in time from the future. Palace’s air, it’s cool. Magical music soothing from places unseen. The eyes of court attendees, watchful and waiting. Ears, straining to witness whatever is to be stated next. Court’s scribe, scribbling shorthand into one of the court’s official rosters. She took the moment in, practically able to view it from outside the flesh.

“Splendid. The journey upcoming shall be more perilous than the journey to Dragon Bridge,” Elisif cautioned. “Well, at present, let me just inform that you, and those whom you are to travel with, guards, that is, should not need to deal with Stormcloaks at all. We’ve gotten word the rebels are headed off to Fort Dunstad next, which is nowhere near to where we shall send you.”

“Alright,” the younger lady said.

“However, this does not mean the roads are completely fair and safe,” the jarl acknowledged. “There are still bandits and hostiles and such, from what’s been stated after your trek to Dragon Bridge, and many apologies for my negligence on the matter. So…. because of this, extra precautions have been taken. Your guard detail for instance, it shall double.”

“Much appreciated. But ehm.. am I to travel with the same guards as before? Mansonn and Peters?”

“Perhaps you shall. Really not sure.”

“Not to fuss, but those two, they did not know how to heal themselves! Nor did they carry any potions to assist their ailing bodies after being attacked not once, but twice. The fact they were able to arrive and depart, to and from… and from and to… was just a matter of luck. They were both so cut and so injured once we arrived in Dragon Bridge. Quite badly so. … Is just, a notion of concern upon my mind.”

“Understood. Well as I was saying,” Elisif continued. “I have not command over such things; the guards provided shall mostly be of Castle Dour, and as you may expect, Tullius is reluctant to spare any of his troops at such a time. So we’ll receive whomever he allows, I suppose.”

Laprima said nothing, but made a mental note. Perhaps she could brew a few batches of healing later on. Either this, or she could buy some potions from Angelline, which she’d disperse to her companions before setting off.

“But the good news,” the jarl continued, “is Tullius and I have come to better terms. As in, he’ll no longer be trying to enforce his will over ours,” she snapped her fingers with a bit of sass. “Which is to say, I am to continue communicating, providing outreach and possible support to other portions of Skyrim at times, sending off messages and such, which you shall be needed to deliver, and with haste!” ...aste.. aste… aste... Elisif’s voice echoed. “And this shall be so, while General Tullius delegates the military.”

“Grand. Am glad the two of you have arrived more congenially,” Laprima performed an odd curtsey. “Well then, where are we to sojourn next?"

The answer was more complicated this time, as it would require travel to more than one place: Rorikstead, then Riverwood, then Falkreath.

Jarl Elisif and her court wanted to initially focus upon several smaller locations, hamlets and villages on the west side, before messaging the larger town of Falkreath. All three places were similar to Dragon Bridge, in the sense that they were unwalled and offered limited protection (in comparison to Solitude), although Falkreath at least had a proper garrison. Elisif’s aim (as stated) would be communication most of all. She and General Tullius would be requesting declarations for which side of the war the folk of these places were truly subscribing to: Empire or Stormcloaks? Such knowledge would become helpful; funds and support could be better allocated.

First location: Rorikstead, a farming village which’d been established for many years, at least since the Second Era, although it hadn’t been named Rorikstead back then.

Rorikstead was established many dozens of miles south of Dragon Bridge, and was part of Whiterun Hold, not Haafingar. Whiterun itself had already been captured of course, but Elisif remained persistent on the matter; contact with Rorikstead must be accomplished. Rorikstead and Whiterun were also many dozens of miles away from each other. The idea was that hopefully, the small village was not under heavy Stormcloak control yet, which meant the Empire might still be allowed to insert some influence.

Solitude’s message would be sent directly to the village’s actual leader, a noble named Rorik, who wouldn’t be off to war as Dragon Bridge’s Garrus Maro had been. Rorik was an elder, after all; too old to fight. He’d been firmly sided with the Empire in past times, and had even fought against the Aldmeri Dominion during the Great War, well before the Thalmor had corrupted the elves’ side.

Laprima’s quest would be to gather information: was Rorik still affirming his original position? Or had he now chosen to support Ulfric and his rebels? And there were other details the ambassador would need to present, things which had nothing to do with the war.

The second location to reach would be Riverwood, a milling town also located in Whiterun Hold.

…. Which, by now, Laprima was visibly nervous about, grinding her teeth with involuntary bruxism. “Two journeys in a row within Stormcloak territory?”

But by Jarl Elisif’s account (backed by the words of Falk Firebeard and others present), this shouldn’t be a problem. As an ambassador, Laprima’s affiliation and presence would be considered neutral. In theory, she should be able to go in and out of enemy lands, gathering and spreading information without consequence. The Stormcloaks were already doing similar things after all; already they’d sent a couple emissaries in and out of Solitude to confer with its leaders.

“Let me give you words of advice,” Elisif offered. “Don’t waste your time fighting blind-minded thoughts of despair. You should be fine, Laprima. You’ve got our word.”

“Alright,” the younger noble stated, somewhat relieved. “If others are doing such things, guess I haven’t any qualms, I suppose.” …And if there are any moments of distress, I can just use one of the new spells just learned to bring complacency to those with a tiff…

“Gracious, you have our many thanks, and full support,” Elisif’s voice tinkled like a bell. “Oh, one more thing.”

“Yes?”

“Have you knowledge on how to ride a horse?”

Laprima smiled, almost a smirk of a smile. “Was one of the perks of being a noble’s daughter, barging into Chestnut Handy Stables since the age of eight back home! Kept bothering the orcs and stablehands who ran the place when I was a youngster, until finally they relented. Allowed me a steed of my own, an undergrown foal. Er, with my parents' blessings and coin, of course.”

“Magnificent. Well that is good. Because this upcoming notion, it shall ease thy mind, perhaps. Ophelia, draw up a commission,” the jarl snapped at the court’s scribe. “It shall be, that Lady Laprima Anne Donnaugh shall gather her own horse, to better travel with haste toward her eventual destinations.”

“Many thanks, aunt Elisif.”

She would depart on the morrow, Jarl Elisif the Fair decided after conferring the rest of her court, and not a day later. For today, Lady Donnaugh could do whatever she wanted, perhaps one final shift at the Skeever if desired. But since she was being allowed her own horse, perhaps it’d be best to get to know the animal, first. Horsemanship was a skill like any other: archery or spell-casting or potion-mixing, and so on. Difference was, horses were living beings who responded best to those who they were already familiar with.

So this is what she did. Strode out of town in her scrubby tavern clothes so she could meet her gifted steed, a palomino. Upon doing so, introducing herself via a series of gestures and coos and such, then arranging the horse's tack and saddle to her liking, she was pleased to learn the beast was already well-trained, and well-behaved. It did not spook right away, like some horses.

Laprima tried to think of a name for her new horse as she rode it and led it up and down Solitude's entry hill, but for now she was coming up blank.


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Notes: 1). Laprima leveled up to 4 during last week's session! Pretty sure I gave her that first point of Speech. A rather useless "perk" (I hate that word in regards to Skyrim... it's such a Fallout term) because that first Speech point allows us to get better prices during 'haggling', in a game in which haggling is obsolete. And LPD is already wealthy... But eh. Speech is going to be an actual important skill later in her life. She'll need to Persuade some others for sure.

2). This story was going to be longer, and was going to include some more travel / possibly more action. But maybe it's better the travel parts get held until next week. Ebb, and then flow.

[WellTemperedClavier]

Sorry for the late response!

The fact that the machine translator figured out a good-sounding version of Cyrodiilic creeps me out a little bit, not gonna lie.

Hmm, wonder how quickly the adventurous stuff will fall away for Laprima. Sometimes people end up getting a taste for it.

Wow, the lead actor signing up really brings home the fact that there's a war on. All hands on deck.

Heh, guilty or not Laprima is being smart about the money. And it's good that she's thinking about the less fortunate. She learned a lot from her trip. Also smart that she's getting instruction from the soldiers for archery.

Neat history lesson! I know Buffy's from Acadian. Are the others from lore? I'm a little vague on Tamrielic history outside of a few areas.

Ah, I suspected Laprima would want to get more involved.

Even if fast travel made it redundant, I do kind of miss the personalization of spells like mark and recall.

Winterhold's a goodly trip from Solitude. But I like that Laprima's seasoned enough consider some of the ins and outs of such a journey.

It's cool how you wove the gameplay changes into the story. Magic does feel a lot different by the Fourth Era.

Alright, Elisif's calling her in. Must be important.

Laprima has some good points regarding Mansonn and Peters. That kind of recklessness might work on short trips but would be a problem on longer ones.

Ooh, she might be going to Falkreath. I always kind of liked that place. It gave me a Twin Peaks/Gravity Falls vibe; think it was the fact that it was in the middle of the forest and was spooky in a less overtly menacing way than Morthal.

Huh, is the old name for Rorikstead "Lainalten"? That's what the UESP says it was called in Arena. The names in that game were pretty generic (but then again, so were the towns).

Hm, hope the Stormcloaks respect Laprima's neutrality. Though I suppose they generally would. Bothering ambassadors doesn't usually help anyone.

Okay, so the adventure's kicking into gear. And it fits because Laprima's way more comfortable with that kind of thing. She's really undergone a remarkable transformation; she was initially a somewhat aimless noble following her no-good husband around. But as he falls away, she comes into her own. And that's through her own efforts. She got the job at the Winking Skeever and involved herself with the Bard's College. She befriended bandits and soldiers and learned from both. That all shows a lot of initiative, so it truly feels like she's earned all this.

[SubRosa]

I love Laprima's observation on how pearl-clutching her having a menial job was a month ago. Yet now that is the least of anyone's concerns now. The world changes.

Cool, it is another diplomatic mission for Ambassador Laprima. Let's just hope she can avoid any Imperial entanglements... Oh wait, she's on the side of the Empire. So I guess she does not have to worry about Darth Vader attacking her consular ship at the beginning of the movie.

Glad to see Laprima taking into account the difficulties she and her guards - her henchmen? - had the last time. Now she is looking ahead for ways to ameliorate such issues in the future by taking direct action.

And it is off into enemy territory to do some politicking. As the well tempered instrument noted, usually diplomats have some sort of status even in a war. But not always. She might come across some blockhead who thinks they will be a hero by bringing her in, only to find themselves in hot water afterward when it turns into a big stink. That happened the US Civil War when a Union ship captured two confederate envoys off of a British ship. It caused a huge international incident between the US and Britain, and in the end Lincoln had the confederates released and sent to Britain.