The Last Days of the Fashion Club Options

[SubRosa]

I like the little world-building nods here. Argonians are only happy when it rains, like the song by Garbage. And only losers and nobles drink alcohol before noon.

And a nice nod to show that Damp is neither altruistic or noble. He's happy denigrating others too.

Jeval sounds like everyone else who has lived through interesting times. You know a normal person. The more I learn about history lately, the more I see the so called "Great Men" of it were just ordinary people muddling through things as best they could. Often at worst they could.

Good thing Jeval got the itch to go looking for Treads. Those disappearances were not just stories I see. All those slavers we find in Vvardenfell's caves had to get their captives from somewhere. Here is one example of where. It reminds me of once the Fugitive Slave Act was passed, Southern slavers could go to any Northern state to ostensibly catch escaped slaves. But in reality they often just kidnapped any black person they could get their hands on.

That was an ugly affair, exactly as Jeval predicted. I wonder if he got lucky and stabbed the Dunmer, or if someone else had?

Just when it looked like they were going to get away, that Dunmer had to finally look out her window. Now things could get ugly with the law. If they are identified, I imagine that Jeval and Treads could get executed. Or sentenced to slavery.

[WellTemperedClavier]

@Acadian - Yeah, Damp-with-Dew isn't that great of a guy. Hopefully he'll wake up and see where this is headed before he gets wrapped up in the An-Xileel, but who knows (this is his last appearance in the story, so his ultimate fate is ambiguous).

Jeval and Treads survived, but their troubles are just beginning.

@SubRosa - Figured it'd make sense for the Argonians to enjoy rain. And the thing about alcohol is based on the idea that you don't drink before 5 pm. Which is more of an American thing, but this story does have a somewhat Americanized version of Cyrodiil.

That's basically it. Like most folks, Jeval just wants to live his life. And it ties in with Morrowind, the game, since the game never confirms if the Nerevarine Prophecy is true. It's entirely valid to play the game as just some person who's trying to figure out a weird situation.

The slaver actually slipped and stabbed himself. Jeval got rather lucky, in that sense. But he'll have plenty of his own troubles ahead.

Chapter 12

Over mud and pavement, across the Duke Vedam Dren Bridge, and through the driving rain: Treads ran with Jeval every step of the way.

Nothing seemed real. Like this had to be a dream, right? Sure, he’d been in some fights.

But he’d never saved anyone’s life before. Never did anything that got another person killed, either. So yeah, had to be a dream and he’d soon wake up and deal with the usual bullshit instead of this.

Treads did most of the talking once they got to the Morgendorffer house. She explained what had happened, what Jeval had done. Meanwhile, he nodded along as they both dripped mud and worse onto the entry rug.

Quinn was there too. She hugged them both, not caring about the dirt.

“I’m so glad you’re both okay!” she said.

Maybe it was the perfume she wore that day, but something about seeing and feeling Quinn after the fight sent shivers down Jeval’s spine, made his knees weak so that he thought he’d fall on the floor.

He kept standing. Most of what Mrs. Morgendorffer said sounded like a buzzing in his ears. But he did hear one thing:

“No, you haven’t committed any crime…”

A goofy grin spread across his face when he heard it. Things were fine.

Treads left to check in with her family. She promised to tell Jeval’s folks what had happened. Before she left, she took him by the shoulders and looked him in the eyes.

“Keep your head down, okay? Promise?” she’d said.

“Absolutely.”

When the door closed behind her, he wondered why she’d still sounded worried.

Quinn helped her dad set up a hot bath for him (seemed crazy that they could take baths in their own home), while Mrs. Morgendorffer did prep work. They gave him privacy once it was done, so he peeled off his filthy clothes to settle into the hot water.

At first, all he could do was sit and soak in the heat. Somehow, he still shivered, like his body hadn’t forgotten the cold of the storm.

Gods, he was starving. The thought of food got him to scrape the mud off his skin and out of his hair. His heart still jumped from beat to beat, like he was getting ready to run.

Things were okay, though. He hadn’t done anything illegal. And Mrs. Morgendorffer was like, super-smart. She’d clear it up. He just had to wait and talk to her. Mom and dad would be proud of him, he was sure. They liked Treads.

Who knew? Maybe this would start something. People kept on saying that Morrowind couldn’t keep slavery forever. After Jeval, everyone would know that the Empire was done putting up with it. That after 400 years, Morrowind would be fixed.

It had to work. Had to.

The Morgendorffers didn’t have any clothes his size. He ended up putting on one of Mr. Morgendorffer’s shirts, which was big enough that he felt like he could get lost in it. Also, a pair of Daria’s pants that she’d left behind when she left for Helnim on the mainland. On top of that, a wool robe so long that he had to pick it up to keep from tripping over.

Quinn had gotten some food for him: bread, kwama scuttle, and hot tea. She sat him down in the kitchen, feeding him little pieces. Rain still fell outside, and the sky kept getting darker. It’d be evening soon.

“You’re a hero, you know that? I’m so glad you were looking out for Treads.”

“She did a lot, too. Like she tripped the guy with her tail. Then uh…”

The slaver’s dying face rose up in Jeval’s memory. His stomach twisted.

“Jeval, are you okay?”

“Uh…”

He hadn’t killed the slaver. Not exactly. And who cared if a slaver died? But it was easy dealing with death that was far away. Harder when it was up close and personal.

“Yeah,” he finally said, still feeling sick.

“You’ll be fine.”

He tried to relax. Somehow, he’d gotten a terrible headache. Quinn fussing over him should’ve felt perfect, but all he could think about was the day’s events and what might happen next.

“Jeval?” came Mrs. Morgendorffer’s voice from the front office. “Are you up for a talk? We can wait until the morning if you’d like.”

“Uh, let’s do it now!” Jeval tried to stand up, but his legs had lost all feeling and he almost fell face-first on the floor. He caught himself on the table at the last minute.

Quinn gasped and ran to support him. They pressed together in a dark room for one frozen moment. But he needed to know his situation.

“Thanks,” he muttered.

He got to the office, where Mrs. Morgendorffer waited behind her desk. Three candles burned on a candelabra, and she had a bunch of books open.

“Please, sit down Jeval.”

He obeyed without a word. Somehow, he’d never imagined talking to a lawyer for help.

Mrs. Morgendorffer began to speak. “Now, before we begin, I have to make sure you understand that any advice I give you is in the capacity of a friend, not as a legal advocate. I mentioned this to you earlier, but I’m not sure you heard.”

“Huh?”

“My specialty is in the field of business law, as broadly outlined in the seventh volume of the Lex Imperia. In other words, I analyze contracts and agreements. Your situation is outside of my expertise.”

“Wait, what? I thought you guys handled all the law stuff.”

“The law is an enormous field, Jeval. It’d be impossible for any one person to be an expert in every aspect of it. Now, what I can do is give you some general advice—pro bono, of course—and perhaps direct you to an advocate who specializes in your situation.”

“Then what’s my situation? I thought you said I hadn’t committed a crime!”

Her expression (somehow) turned more serious. “Explain what happened to me again. Leave out no details.”

Jeval did. Thinking of it again sent all the little fears pulsing right back through his body: his best friend in danger; the slaver and his knife; the way the slaver looked when he’d died; the Dunmer woman who’d seen him toss the sword back into the alley.

“Thank you. I know it was hard to go over that again. To the best of my knowledge, you have not committed a crime.”

“Great. I’m okay then. Probably.”

“Unfortunately, perceptions often matter more than reality. What do you know about the court system?”

Jeval thought about it a bit. “Nothing,” he finally admitted.

“I see. The details vary from location to location. In Hlaalu lands, courts are decided by Hlaalu-appointed magistrates. The system here is quite similar to Cyrodiil’s.”

“That’s good, right? I’ll have an advocate.”

“Of course. I know an advocate in Pelagiad who handles criminal cases and has successfully defended outlander clients. He is quite expensive, however.”

“My folks don’t have a lot of money.”

Helen’s brow furrowed like she was thinking. “I’ll be willing to cover some of your costs.”

“For real?”

“Yes, Jeval. For real.”

“That’s great!”

She raised her hand. “Hold on. As I said, your case will ultimately be decided by Hlaalu magistrates based on what they think is best for Great House Hlaalu.”

Jeval shook his head. This was too much. “But aren’t there laws for this stuff?”

“Yes. But the law is often more of a guideline in Morrowind. What I’m trying to explain is that if this goes to trial, you will be at the mercy of the court. Your advocate can push for leniency or even absolution, but how much leeway he has depends on the magistrates in question.

“There are many variables here. For instance, if your advocate is able to convince them that you killed a slaver who was assaulting a citizen, the magistrates may let you go to avoid embarrassment. Balmora is Hlaalu’s face to the Empire in Vvardenfell District and sparing you will look better to their Imperial supporters. Slavers are not supposed to operate in Balmora, at least not so openly; whoever you encountered was likely going against orders.

“Alternately, if the magistrates are more concerned with appealing to the conservative elements among the Dunmer, they may frame it as a wild outlander killing a local. In which case, you’ll be in a very dire situation.”

Jeval turned cold. “But the guy was a slaver! I didn’t even kill him, not really. He killed his own dumb self.”

“Removing the sword from his body may have caused him to die from blood loss. Regardless of how he died, a great deal depends on the testimony of this witness. You say this woman didn’t see the fight?”

“No. Just me tossing the sword back in the alley.”

“And she didn’t see Treads?”

Jeval thought about it a bit. Then he shook his head. “No. I’m sure she didn’t.”

Mrs. Morgendorffer sighed. “Good. With respect to Treads-on-Ferns, her involvement would only complicate matters. Of course, without her, that means whoever investigates the scene will likely assume that it was a murder, or a robbery that turned violent.”

“Wait! What about the ropes?” Jeval asked.

“What about them?”

Jeval hated how calm she sounded. “The guy was tying Treads up! That proves he was a slaver!”

“Lots of people carry rope, Jeval. No one except you saw him try to kidnap Treads.”

“I’m screwed then! Like what’s even the point of the law?” he shouted.

For a second, he thought he’d made her mad. But she just looked sad, her eyes going to the three burning candles.

“I’d have had an answer for you twenty years ago,” she said. “I’m afraid I no longer do.”

She continued. “It’s not completely hopeless. It’s entirely possible that this witness won’t bother reporting what she saw. Violence isn’t common in Labor Town, but neither is it rare. If she does, then the odds are against you. But a good advocate can still persuade the magistrates to be more lenient. The witness may be a person of low character whose testimony will be doubted—though her being a Dunmer gives her an advantage that you lack. You’ll likely get a prison sentence, but you’ll probably avoid the headman’s block.”

“The headman’s block? Oh, [censored].” Jeval buried his face in his hands. This couldn’t be happening. “Treads is okay, right?”

“Yes, as long as the witness didn’t see her.”

“What if Treads came to the trial to back me up? Would that be safe for her?”

“To put it bluntly, no. That’s why I said it’s best for Treads to not be involved at all, even though her testimony may be exculpatory.”

“Excul-what?”

“Exculpatory. Meaning it might get you off the hook.”

“It sounds like I’m facing jailtime no matter what I do.”

“I’m so sorry, Jeval. It is the most likely result if the witness reports what she saw.”

His face screwed up, like he was going to cry. But he didn’t want to.

“What if…” his voice almost broke, and he had to take a deep breath to calm himself. “What if I left town?”

Mrs. Morgendorffer frowned. “As a legal advocate, I can’t support you becoming a fugitive.”

“No offense, but I don’t think I have a choice! And you said you were just giving me advice as a friend.”

“You’re right, I did. I’m not an expert in this sort of thing, you understand. Now, Vvardenfell District is lousy with bounty hunters. But you have a good shot at freedom if you reach the mainland, and no one here will pursue you once you’re beyond Morrowind.”

Out of Morrowind. Just like he’d been thinking about.

“Uh, how do I do that?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know. You may be able to leave town if you do it tonight. The guards here are lazy. Even if the witness does report the incident, I can’t imagine they’ll start looking until tomorrow, and they’ll start simply by looking for young Bosmer. Unless this witness can identify you by name.”

“I’ve never seen her before,” Jeval said.

“Good. Which brings me to another point: as much as I’d like to, I can’t afford to shelter you if you are declared a fugitive. I’ll try to help in other ways, like contacting that advocate, but that’s the extent of it.”

Jeval wasn’t surprised, exactly. Mrs. Morgendorffer was all business. He wouldn’t want to get Quinn or anyone else in trouble, anyway. “Yeah, I get it. On that case, I’ll leave town. Maybe I can hang out in the hills, see if I can figure out what’s going on here. If they never come after me, I can go home. If they do, at least I’ll be outside of the city.”

“Do you know anything about surviving in the outdoors?”

“Can’t be that hard, right? I can eat like, berries and stuff.”

“Talk to your parents first. Your father’s a courier, so he’ll at least have some advice for making it on your own.”

“He's out of town right now. But yeah, when he comes back he could find me and show me what to do. Yeah, that works.”

“Oh, Jeval,” she said, and for a second it sounded like her voice might break. “I wish this hadn’t happened. You don’t deserve this. You’re a wonderful young Mer, and this is the last thing you should be worried about. They’re robbing you!”

She slammed her hand on the desk. “But the law is the law—flawed though it is. I can’t recommend that you try and escape Balmora. However, I won’t stop you if that’s your choice.”

“Thanks. I get there’s not much you can do. I should probably get going. Before the guards start looking for me.”

“I think that’s wise. Do you want me to get Quinn?”

Yes, Jeval thought. Let me see her one last time.

“That’s okay. I don’t want to draw this out. Besides, I bet things will turn out okay and I’ll be back like nothing happened.”

It was bullshit. But he needed to hear someone say it.

*********

Wrapped up in the mud-spattered cloak he’d brought from home and the loaners that didn’t fit, Jeval felt like all of Balmora was watching him. Which was stupid: he’d never seen the place so deserted. Rain sprinkled in thick, wet drops but the storm was mostly over.

A good sign, he decided.

Jeval couldn’t decide if it’d be better to stick to the main roads or go down the alleys, so he alternated. He crouched in the shadows each time a bonemold-armored guard wandered past. They probably weren’t looking for him yet, but he didn’t want to take a chance.

He hadn’t gotten far when he ran into a couple of guys standing outside some cornerclub he’d never visited. One was an Imperial in a snazzy purple robe that looked too nice for this part of town, and the other was a Dunmer wearing a flannel coat and smoking tanna from a pipe.

“I don’t suppose you have any idea how long this will last?” the Imperial asked in a nasal voice.

“Afraid not. This is my first time in Morrowind, and I’ve never even visited a Tribunal Temple before.”

“I see. Sorry to assume. I can’t believe they shut down the city.”

“They’re worried about something. But look, this is Hlaalu country. If even half of what I hear about them is true, there’s no way they’ll keep the city closed for long. Not if it means losing money.”

“The greed of Man and Mer is the one constant in Tamriel,” the Imperial said.

Jeval cursed. The city closed? Was this because of the Nerevarine stuff? Okay, these guys were out-of-towners. Probably safe to talk to them, but he put his hood on, just in case.

“Uh, what’s that you said about the town being closed?” he asked.

The two turned to him in surprise, the Dunmer nearly dropping his pipe.

“You gave us quite a start,” the Imperial said. “No matter. At sundown, the guards closed the striderport and the river. They said something about a temple announcement tomorrow. Not sure what that has to do with us.”

[censored]!

“Oh, okay. Yeah, there’s uh, some of that going on here,” Jeval said. “Didn’t know it was that bad.”

“I’m hoping it doesn’t last long,” the Dunmer said.

“Yeah, same. Thanks for letting me know,” Jeval said. He turned away and walked up the street as fast as he could without looking suspicious.

Escape wasn’t an option. He couldn’t even go anywhere in the city without maybe getting someone else in trouble. His family couldn’t shelter him—his house would be the first place the guards looked! How would mom and dad even react? He’d brought so much trouble to them.

All because he’d done the right thing. Done the kind of thing the Empire should have been doing in the first place.

It felt like his head was going to explode.

Not knowing what else to do, he ran back to the Morgendorffer house. He knew they’d have to kick him out eventually, but he needed a place to sleep, to clear his head.

This post has been edited by WellTemperedClavier: Nov 12 2023, 05:55 PM

[Acadian]

Caught up in the morass of local law - for doing the right thing! Going to Mrs Morgandorffer was a great first stop. A chance to clean up, eat and get some qualified advice. Distancing himself from Treads for her benefit hurts I’m sure but at least he has a course of action – escape from Morrowind. Which was his plan all along, just not right at the moment and not without Treads. Uh-oh, the tribunal stuff seems to be a spanner thrown into the works. So much for his escape plan.

[SubRosa]

Jeval and Treads may not have done anything illegal. But that does not mean the law won't come after them anyway. Treads clearly understand this.

Ah, and Helen does as well. Now Jeval is getting a good look at how bigotry is not simply one person calling another a bad word. It is entrenched within systems of power designed to protect those in the in-group, and oppress those in the out-group.

I recall a neo-Nazi fight club - I think it was RAM - that regularly assaulted people in public, often while the police stood by and watched. They would even post videos of it online to brag. When people fought back, they were the ones who got arrested. Not the Nazis. Eventually the FBI got involved and finally arrested a handful of them after Heather Heyer was murdered, but that was only after years.

The guards are lazy. No kidding, Kevin is one of them!

So Jeval is going on the lam. Poor kid. But speaking as a writer, I recognize an inciting event when I see one. This just might be the call to action that sends Jeval down his path as the protagonist in a high fantasy tale of adventure! Or not. We will see. Granted, from the sneak peek we have seen of Jeval's future as a member of the Underground Railroad, something like that obviously does happen.

Uh oh, the city is on lockdown, because of the Nerevarine? Oh boy, this throws a wrench in the works.

[WellTemperedClavier]

@Acadian - In Tamriel as in Earth, doing the right thing never guarantees a safe outcome. But maybe safety isn't what's needed.

@SubRosa - Yup. And the law in Morrowind is very much intended to preserve the awful status quo.

In fairness to Kevin, he's one of those guards who probably would try to do the right thing. But he'd also probably mess it up in some way (unless he's teamed with someone who can guide him through).

Yeah, this is pretty much the inciting event. Jeval's going to have to change his life pretty soon.

Chapter 13

Mr. and Mrs. Morgendorffer set up a little sleeping area for him in the office. He lay down on the blankets, rested his head on a pillow from the upstairs bedroom, and stared into the darkness. It was the most exhausted he’d ever been, but his heart wouldn’t stop pounding and his brain wouldn’t stop thinking.

Each second that passed made him think of other horrible things that might happen. His whole body ached. Sometimes he imagined that the night would just never end, and he’d lie there being scared forever.

At least if he got arrested, it’d be over. No running, no worrying about getting anyone else in trouble. His fate already decided.

So why not get it over with?

Or he could lay low. Hope that this lockdown ended so that he could skip town for a while. Or maybe the witness wouldn’t say anything and things would go back to normal.

But right then, Jeval wanted an answer more than he wanted hope. At least an answer would let him prepare.

Anything beat not knowing.

Jeval couldn’t tell if he was getting any sleep. Time stretched out like rubber. He’d close his eyes but still be thinking. Then he’d open his eyes and drift off.

He lay there, not really awake and not really asleep, when he heard footsteps. Firelight flickered against the adobe walls of the stairway, fabric rustling against the steps.

Quinn descended the stairs, a candle holder in her hand. She raised it, the flame’s light revealing her features. Gods, she looked perfect somehow, even after just waking up.

Had she dolled up for him?

“Quinn?” he said.

“Jeval!” she whispered. She hurried over and sat down next to him. Next thing he knew, she was holding his hand.

This was it. The moment he’d been dreaming and praying for. Him and Quinn alone, nothing but the night around them.

Except it wasn’t. Not really.

“Can’t sleep?” he whispered.

“No. I’m too scared about you. And Treads. And everyone else, I guess. This sucks!”

“Tell me about it.”

“Mom says the courts aren’t fair. Maybe that’s one of the things Daria was always complaining about. But why shouldn’t they be fair! Like we have this big Empire, right? That’s something we should fix.”

Quinn wanted to fix it. She just didn’t know how hard that’d be. She probably couldn’t. What would have happened if Quinn had been the one to help Treads, the way he had? Would she be in as much trouble?

There’s no way she’d get off scot-free. But Quinn had a way about her. She spoke, and people listened. Because she was an Imperial, because she was wealthy, maybe most of all because people liked following her.

It wasn’t fair.

“I’ll fix it!” she said. “My mom has tons of law books around, so I can start reading them. It’ll be a cinch! Once I become an advocate, you’ll be my first case! Or wait, maybe I’ll do some practice cases first. But one way or another, I’ll get you out.”

“Heh, thanks,” he said.

She wouldn’t. It was a nice thing to say, but it was silly.

That’s when it hit Jeval. Treads had been right. He was over Quinn. Had been for a while. And even though he was scared, figuring that out made him feel a little lighter somehow.

“You being an advocate won’t give you much time for the Fashion Club,” he said.

She sighed. “That’s over anyway. I guess this is what I can do now. And mom says that having good style is really important for advocates.”

“Yeah, I bet you’d be like the best-dressed one. Maybe uh, sweeten the deal for the magistrate by giving them fashion advice.”

“Ugh, I know! Those robes they wear are just so boring! Like don’t they know what they represent?”

He laughed quietly at that, and she joined in, like she’d heard how silly she sounded. But silly wasn’t bad right then. Thinking about silly things had gotten them through Drenlyn.

“I dunno if your mom told you, but I might have to leave pretty quick tomorrow. Or today, I guess,” he said.

“Yeah, she did.”

Would Quinn let him stay longer, if it was up to her? He decided it wasn’t worth finding out.

“But I bet we can fix things if you go to court. Like I know it’s bad, but it can’t be that bad.”

It was. “We’ll see.”

Quinn didn’t respond. She blew out the candle and they sat there in the dark, hand in hand. He didn’t know what she was thinking, but for the first time that didn’t matter. He’d be alone when he ran out of Balmora or was marched to jail.

But he wasn’t alone now.

The sky was just starting to lighten when she spoke again. “I should go back up. Mom and dad wouldn’t like me here.”

“Yeah, that’s cool,” he said, taking his hand out from hers.

She stood up and slowly walked back to the staircase.

“Quinn?” he said.

“Uh huh?” She turned back to look at him.

“Thanks for being a good friend.”

And he meant it.

*********

Jeval lay there as dawn’s gray light brightened the living room. Too tired to think, too worked up to sleep, all he could do was wait.

“Jeval?” hissed a familiar voice from the other side of a shuttered window. “Are you there?”

He jumped to his feet and hurried over to open the shutters. Treads stood on the other side, her scales looking somehow dusty. She’d slung a bag over her shoulder.

“What are you doing here?”

“Checking on you. I told your mom what happened. She’s… well, upset is probably too mild a word. Not at you—she’s proud of you—just at this whole situation.”

“[censored],” he said. “Mrs. Morgendorffer said I’m screwed if I go to court. I wanted to skip town, but they’re not letting people in or out.”

Her gills flared. “There’s going to be some big temple announcement today. Are you going to stay here?”

“Can’t,” he said, shaking his head. “Don’t want to get the Morgendorffers in trouble.”

“Where will you go?”

“Beats me. Hey, I was just thinking: the south wall isn’t that high. Maybe I could climb over?”

“Not a good idea,” she said. “There are a bunch of guards on watch. Wait, I brought you these.”

She put the bag down and reached inside. A moment later, she took out some of Jeval’s clothes.

“Here. Your mom wanted me to give this to you.”

Just then, Jeval could have fallen on his knees and worshipped her.

“Thank you! I’m sick of wearing these loaners.”

He took the clothes. Figuring Quinn and her parents would be asleep for a bit longer, he quickly got dressed in the office. Everything fit again, and that made him feel like he could do anything. He also grabbed his dad’s spare cloak and put it on, even though it was caked in dried mud.

“Okay, I’m getting out of here now. I’ll try to hide somewhere,” he said.

“Where?”

“Maybe an alley or something. Who knows, maybe the woman who saw me didn’t report it and we’ll be fine.”

Jeval exited through the front door and out onto the narrow street outside. Sunlight and shadow marked the adobe buildings around him. The air was fresh and crisp after yesterday’s storm.

Up ahead, a bunch of rich-looking Dunmer walked his way. He almost panicked and ran back in, but then he figured out they weren’t guards. The leader was a bald Dunmer in fine robes, who might’ve been a priest of some kind. They walked right past Jeval without a word, jaws set and lips pressed tight.

Something big was happening.

Treads rejoined him and they headed out. The streets were already filling up. There was this weird nervous energy in the air, carried in whispers and looks. One of the town criers, a Nord, had taken position in the middle of St. Roris Square and had started ringing his bell.

Damn, he thought. Crier had been his first real job for the Fashion Club, telling people about seminars and events. He wished he could go back to that.

“Hear ye, hear ye! The city of Balmora is hereby closed for a period lasting no less than three days and no longer than five!”

The crowd reacted. Everyone rushed the guy and demanded to know why. The crier held up his hands.

“I’m an outlander, same as you! They don’t tell me anything! The Tribunal Temple’s going to make an announcement at noon today.”

“Is this about the Nerevarine?”

“Smart money says yes. Now back away, I’m not done! Ahem. A Dunmer has been murdered in Labor Town! The victim was not a resident of Balmora, but his violent death shows the dangers that stalk our streets!”

Jeval closed his eyes and whispered a curse. This was it.

Treads put a hand on his shoulder.

“The only suspect is a young Bosmer male, between five and five-and-a-half feet tall. He has blond hair on the longish side, may be parted in the center and with an undercut at the back. The suspect was last seen wearing a netch leather cloak and with a fire petal pinned to his shirt. Contact a guard if you know who this person might be. He may or may not be armed, but he is dangerous.”

Jeval had ditched the flower, but he still wore the cloak. He dashed to a nearby alley, where he tore off the garment and tossed it aside. Nothing he could do about his hair, though it was mussed up enough to not have any part at all, center or otherwise. He should’ve asked Quinn to give him a haircut!

But he couldn’t go back now. Not when they were likely closing in on him.

“Maybe Mrs. Morgendorffer was right,” he said. “I should just turn himself in.”

“No!” Treads cut the air with her hand as she said it. “That’s crazy! You won’t win.”

“I know, but what can I do here? I can’t hide for days. Unless you know somebody.”

Treads peered out of the alley. “Maybe my house.”

“No. I’m not putting you guys in danger! Mrs. Morgendorffer even said it’d get worse if you were involved. Because they’re always looking for an excuse—”

“I know! Maybe hide here… ”

She trailed off. Jeval saw why a moment later. Tiphannia stood at the entrance to the alley, staring at them.

“Wait, Tiphannia!” Jeval said.

[censored]. She’d know about the flame petal, too. She’d been there when Quinn had recommended it.

Treads raised her hands. “Tiphannia, it’s not what the crier’s saying. Jeval didn’t do anything wrong. Some Dunmer tried to enslave me! Jeval saved my life. I know you don’t like me, but I’m begging you: don’t tell anyone you saw us.”

Tiphannia’s eyebrows turned into an annoyed little V. “Wait, what? You are talking way too fast.”

Jeval explained, giving Tiphannia the basics. All the while, he prayed that she wasn’t so mad at them that she’d turn them in. Gods, he’d never imagined his freedom hinging on Tiphannia of all people.

But her expression softened as he told the story. When he finished, she was silent for a bit.

“I’m not going to turn you guys in,” she said. “And I'm glad you saved Treads. No one... deserves something like that.”

“Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“But you better get out of town.”

“We’re trying to figure out a way.”

“You should ask… Satheri’s mom and dad.”

Jeval wasn’t sure he’d heard right. “What?”

“Yeah. The Rowenis know a lot about like, smuggling people. They’re members… of the Twin Lamps.”

[Renee]

Hey, can you remind us what the date is in this story? I assume it's not Third Era.... maybe I'm wrong though.

Ha har I love that. "Hey, it's raining hard outside, let's not waste a good storm!" That sounds like me in a way. And Shirley Manson, as 'Rosa points out. We both are happy when it rains.

Yeah, I'd imagine Jeval wants to sit the storm out! Even the hardiest of adventurer might only want to go out into rain to clean his/her armor off. Not much more. But Jeval prob'ly don't want to get his hair messed up.

"drinking alcohol before dusk is only for losers and nobles!"

Indeed. The background of Vvardenfell does include slavery. Which doesn't get portrayed so well in the base game, but it is something which is certainly there. Interesting how somebody like Jeval could grow up in the province, have friends who are beastfolk, and yet such thoughts are just occurring to the fair-weather chap. These are the sort of thoughts a more aware individual such as Daria has already considered, even if this consideration is not written up in Outlanders.

He still wants Quinn! Or at least, somebody like Quinn!

Whoa, uh oh. A freaking slaver. Holy Crap. What is Jeval supposed to do? DAmn. Didn't see any of this coming. Okay, good job with the tail, lizard. Holy crap. Where is Dimartini when we need him?

Good thing it's still raining. That should wash some of the blood away, I presume. Another thing: he's all covered in mud. Maybe the witness-woman won't recognize him but he has to get OUT of here, NOW!

Hmm. Well just because it's not technically illegal doesn't mean there won't be consequences, or somebody looking for a short wood elf hanging around a female lizard. Plenty of Dunmer in town, but how many Bosmer/Argonian combinations of friends could there be? - But here's something new: for perhaps the only time, Quinn is nearby yet Jeval isn't so obsessed with her presence.

I love the lawyer-speak!

Hmm, another thing. Isn't it technically still legal to capture and own slaves? Or has that Renrija Krin/Haus Dres (spelling, I know) stuff not made a difference yet? ... The Empire is against slavery, but it's still okay here in MW, unless things have changed. Okay, "slavers aren't supposed to operate" anymore, in so many words. Still, I'd be worried.

PHew. Well if I were Jeval, I don't think I'd even try to approach this from a legal standpoint. Maybe he can avoid going to court. Only that one woman saw him, for instance.

Whoa, they shut down the city. Uh oh. Okay, but it's not because of somebody dying in the street. That is good, I'll asssume. Maybe there'll be so much going on with these latest developments that the dead slaver will just get passed over as offcials are too preoccupied with other things.

Ah crap. Young Bosmer, yellow hair, short in stature. Jeval is done. One thing for sure: you're really doing a good job adding that paranoid feeling to the story, Clav.


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


OFF-topic stuff begins HERE!!

Sure, about bathhouses. There's this image that everyone was stinky (same as how it was once assumed 4,000 years ago everyone was a stoneage ape). But us humans didn't just become smart; more and more often we're learning how ancients had technology, some of which rivaled our own.

Mm hmm, about hygiene. I also remember reading somewhere how perfumes and colognes became much more popular amongst those who could afford such concoctions, during the Renaissance. Yich.

WHOA! Morrowind's name is from some other storyline, except with the change of one letter???!!! -- Now that, I did not know! I wonder if anyone tried to sue Beth because of that!

This post has been edited by Renee: Nov 17 2023, 03:08 AM

[Acadian]

I’m not surprised that Jeval couldn’t sleep. What a touching visit from Quinn.

”And mom says that having good style is really important for advocates.”
As ever, Quinn nails it! Like most things, what good is doing something if you can’t look good while doing so?

Even in this difficult predicament, Jeval is thinking of others and how to avoid implicating anyone beyond himself.

Well, so much for not having an eye-witness report. Sounds like that Dunmer lass got a good eyeful and reported every detail.

Not surprisingly, Treads seeks him out to help. Then some hope from an unexpected Tiphannia. If anyone can help him out of Morrowind, the Twin Lamps likely can.

[SubRosa]

It is like being at the dentist. The waiting is the worst part. Best to just get it over with.

Well, I guess Jeval is at least mostly over Quinn now. Thank Aetherius for small blessings at least.

I wonder if they are going to announce the news of Dagoth's Ur's death, and/or Vivec's?

Oh boy, and the news of the slaver's death is out there, and it's being called a murder. Well that is it, inciting incident here we go. Sounds like the first thing Jeval needs to do is cut and dye his hair. Maybe grow half a foot and change his race while he is at it...

Tiphanna? The Rowenis? The Twin Lamps! Wow, there are more twists here at the end than a bowl of spaghetti!

[WellTemperedClavier]

@Renee - This is 3E 427, so it's the same year as Morrowind the game.

Given that the Argonians started in a swamp, and are physiologically pretty different from humans, it made sense to me that rain would be enjoyed. This even goes back to Jeval and Treads' first conversation in Outlanders, which was also out in the rain.

I'm pretty sure there aren't any slaves in Balmora in-game, and I had that here as being because the city's partly there to impress Imperials (since there are so many in the city). That's how someone like Jeval could come of age there but only be dimly aware of what's happening beyond the city walls.

On paper, it's illegal to go out and capture slaves. But raids usually happen in provinces like Elsweyr and Black Marsh, which the Empire simply doesn't care that much about protecting. This goes back to Damp-with-Dew's account of the slave ship off the coast of Black Marsh. What almost happened to Treads-on-Ferns was also illegal, though again, Argonians and Khajiit don't always get the full protection of the law.

Agreed, one should take a somewhat humble attitude when looking at the accomplishments of the past. Yes, they may not always be as impressive as what we can do today, but they still managed it with far less. And in so doing, provided a foundation for us.

Yeah, I remember reading about people using a ton of perfume in the Renaissance.

Heh, no idea. Might be tough now given how much time has elapsed.

@Acadian - Quinn is doing her best, even if this situation is well beyond her. Or any one person. And the Twin Lamps are probably Jeval's only hope at this point.

@SubRosa - So one of the later episodes of Outlanders was told from Satheri's perspective, and she overheard her parents having a brief conversation about being part of the Twin Lamps (her mom mostly told her dad to shut up about that). Satheri, of course, didn't understand what that meant. She only understood that her parents were hiding something from her.

Chapter 14

Jeval had no idea what that meant. But Treads seemed to.

“Tiphannia? I swear, if this is a joke…” Treads warned.

“It’s not a joke!” Tiphannia retorted. “I’m not stupid, okay?”

“I’m not saying you are. But how in the world could the Rowenis be with the Twin Lamps?”

Jeval tried to clear his head. “Wait, what are the Twin Lamps?” he asked.

“Abolitionists,” Treads said. “The kind that actually does something and breaks the law to free slaves. How do you know this, Tiphannia?”

“Because I heard Satheri’s mom mention it. I was at their house… Satheri was upstairs and I was like… waiting for her to get ready. We were going to go shopping. This was like… a year ago. Her mom was talking about it with her dad. They didn’t think I understood. But now I do.”

“Does Satheri know?” Jeval asked.

“I don’t think so.”

But Jeval could tell that Treads didn’t believe her. “Why the hell would the Rowenis, of all people, be Twin Lamps? They’re in deep with Great House Hlaalu, and last I checked, Hlaalu has a lot of slaves.”

“Don’t get mad at me,” Tiphannia said. “That’s just what I heard. If you don’t believe me, that’s fine. But this is the only thing I can think of to help.”

Treads shook her head. “It doesn’t make sense!”

“What if we ask?” Jeval said. “Like at this point, how could it even hurt? Worst that happens is that they turn me in, and I’m probably going to get arrested anyway.”

“It’s hard to believe. The Rowenis have a ton of money. Though now that I think of it, a lot of their investments are in importing goods to Morrowind. No slave labor in that.”

“How do you know?” Jeval asked.

She made a high-pitched hiss. “Because Sera Roweni told me a year ago, hoping I’d be impressed and tell him he was one of the good ones.”

“I know… what I heard,” Tiphannia said.

“Okay, okay,” Treads said. “Tiphannia, if I went over to the Roweni house to ask them about this, would you go with me?”

“I have work. But fine. Just make it fast.”

“Jeval, stay here. We’re going to talk with Sera Roweni and see what’s up. I have no idea how they’ll react to this.”

He nodded. “Okay. Good luck.”

Watching the two girls go, Jeval slunk down behind a barrel and hoped that no one would find him.

*********

Treads couldn’t have been gone for more than an hour, but it felt like forever. Jeval jumped to his feet when she came back, carrying a blue cloak under her arm. He couldn’t read her expression that time, and he braced himself for the worst.

“What’d they say? Where’s Tiphannia?” he demanded.

“They are with the Twin Lamps, and they might help.”

“Might help?”

“They’re rich Hlaalu, what do you expect? Ulnar said you should come by the Roweni house during sunset but before nightfall. If there’s a potted black rose by the front doorstep, you can go in and they’ll help. If there isn’t one, then don’t go in because they’ll turn you over to the guards if you do.”

“[censored].” One way or another, he’d have to keep a low profile for this day.

Treads continued. “It turns out that Tiphannia can remember just about every little thing she’s ever heard. That’s how we wore down the Rowenis into admitting they were with the Twin Lamps. Tiphannia knew so many other random details that they couldn’t deny it. Restoring her might have created a monster.”

“Huh.”

“She left for work right after. Think she’s helped as all she can.”

“It is a lot of help,” he said. “Was Satheri there?”

“No, she was doing some temple thing, and she doesn't know a thing about the Twin Lamps. Her dad warned us not to say anything to her. Hope she’s handling all this okay. Oh, and Ulnar told me to give you this.” She handed him the cloak, the blue wool fabric stained and threadbare. “People will be looking for the netch leather cloak. Which we should probably put farther away.”

Jeval donned the new cloak and put up the hood, not feeling much more secure. Treads took the old cloak and jogged off, returning a while later without it.

“It put it by the river. Don’t think anyone saw me. Hopefully that’ll mislead people.”

“Thanks. What now?”

“Just wait. Though I wonder if we should be in Labor Town. There aren’t usually beggars in this part of the Commercial District. Dammit, I don’t know anything about being a fugitive,” she said, shaking her head in frustration.

“I’ll sit tight. You can go home.”

Treads thought about it a bit. “I’ll check in with my mom and dad, but I’m coming back.”

“I don’t want you to get in trouble for me.”

“Yeah, and I don’t want you to get in more trouble, period. It’s like I keep telling my dad: none of us is safe when things are this screwed up. And nothing’s ever going to get better if we keep pretending that things are okay.”

She departed. Jeval slunk into the shadows, trying to make himself invisible behind the barrels. One nice thing about being small: it was a lot easier to hide.

It was at around noon that he heard a commotion in St. Roris Square. There was shouting and chatter, which was normal, but there was also chanting. Loud, droning chanting. Curious, he got up on legs numb from being in one position for too long and went to the mouth of the alley.

The priestess he’d seen at the temple, Muthsera Sadri, stood on a crate in the middle of the square. Acolytes and a few guards stood around her, and there were a ton of Dunmer all around. Some of them knelt on the flagstones, some of them chanted and raised their arms in the air, others just waited. There were outlanders, too, all looking as confused as Jeval felt.

Then Sadri spoke.

“I come to you in the spirit of revelation. For our gloried lord, Vivec—Holy Vehk—has revealed a new truth unto us! The outlander known as the Nerevarine… ”

Her voice shook. She paused to take a deep breath.

“… the outlander called the Nerevarine is indeed Lord Indoril Nerevar reborn! Garbed in new flesh, the hero of old Resdayn has returned to restore Morrowind. Three houses and four tribes call the Nerevarine hortator, as the prophecy approaches fulfillment. Now the Nevervarine prepares to march on Red Mountain and slay Dagoth Ur!”

The Dunmer in the crowd erupted. Screaming, crying, beating the ground with their fists.

Jeval didn’t get it. To him, the gods were something you worshipped just as practical thing. He’d never seen anything like this for religion. Like waves of power emanating from the crowd in that square.

The outlanders in the crowd backed away.

“Stay true to ALMSIVI! Stay true to the Temple! Morrowind shall be restored!”

Jeval slunk back into the alley. He didn’t know what that meant for him or his family. When Dunmer talked about the glory of old Morrowind, they usually meant it as a place for only the Dunmer and their slaves.

Not people like him.

Did the Nerevarine being an outlander make a difference? No way to know, he supposed.

Balmora had felt practically deserted the past few days. But now it was packed. All the Dunmer who’d been hiding rushed out onto the streets, chanting and praying. The Commercial District was so noisy that Jeval felt like the entire town had turned into some enormous temple sanctuary.

Treads returned at midafternoon, her eyes a little wild. She carried some bread and a full waterskin, which they split between them.

“It’s crazy out there,” she said.

“Did anyone hassle you?”

“No. Actually, this whole Nerevarine thing might be good for us. They’re so focused on it that they won’t notice you. I just hope the Rowenis aren’t too caught up in it to help.”

“Same.”

They waited in that narrow alley while Balmora went crazy all around them. Smoke from burning incense filled the skies, so it almost felt like last year’s riot all over again. But through the haze he saw the sun reddening as it descended into the west.

Soon, he’d know.

“Time to see if they’ll help.”

Jeval walked out of the alley, standing on tip-toes to look a bit taller and making sure the blue hood covered his features. Treads followed close behind. A column of Dunmer slowly moved through the street, carrying a big litter with a statue of some saint or god.

No one noticed them.

The Roweni house was nearby. Jeval steeled himself as he got close. His whole future depended on the presence of a black rose. If it wasn’t there? Then he’d just have to wing it. Try to escape or accept arrest.

It helped knowing that he’d do it all again if he had to. Saving Treads made it worth it. Because he knew she’d do the same for him.

“It’s there!”

Treads had seen it first. A little blue vase lay outside the Roweni door. Something (probably a passing pilgrim) had toppled it, but there was still a black rose inside.

Maybe he’d go free after all.

[Acadian]

So Tip and Treads are off to see if the Rowenis will help. As soon as Jeval crouched behind a barrel the first thought that struck was how being a Bosmer does indeed make for a small target. How neat that a few paragraphs later, Jeval thought the same thing.

Tiphannia aids once again - this time with her newly discovered remarkable memory. A secret code signal of a potted black rose. How cloak and daggerly exciting!

Heh, I understand all this Neverrain stuff no better than Jeval does.

And the sun begins to set. . . Woot! The plant signal is there. Thankfully some passing pilgrim just knocked it over instead of pinching it!

This whole story really highlights the wonderful magic that Quinn wove into her Fashion Club – you’ve really shown us how every single member has the back of every other member.

[SubRosa]

So Tre and Tip are off to the Rowenis to see if they can help. I can appreciate Tread's complicated feelings about past Mr. Roweni trying to signal her that he was "one of the good ones".

It is also nice to see Tiphanna stepping up here in a big way, in spite of her own complicated feelings about her old friends in the Fashion Club, and how they treated her.

Well there is that big announcement. We are near the end of the game's main quest, and I guess this Nerevarine chose not to kill Vivec in the process. I have never had a character who let him live. Even January felt that she had to kill him.

Oh boy, the Dunmer are getting into a religious frenzy. This is about the time they do a pogrom and kill all the Jews. I mean Outlanders. Thankfully all the excitement is huge distraction. I imagine all the people who would normally be out looking for Jeval, are instead watching the crowds, if not participating themselves.

There's the Bat Signal. *phew*. Now to the next challenge.

[Renee]

This is 3E 427, so it's the same year as Morrowind the game.

Thank you.

Correct: there aren't any slaves in Balmora. These poor slaves can be found (presumably for sale) in the more far-off locations such as Molag Mar and Telvanni territories. Thing is: capturing slaves is not legal, but in rougher areas there'd be nothing Treads could've done. Which makes the slaver trying to capture Jeval's friend IN BALMORA seem quite odd. Maybe this slaver was new at slaving. Maybe he'd just gotten the job, and was desperate to please whatever superiors he had, or was that desperate for money.

That's how someone like Jeval could come of age there but only be dimly aware of what's happening beyond the city walls

But wouldn't Daria already been aware of the way this works, and considered the implications concerning any beastfolk she went to school with? Even if it's not mentioned in Outlanders, surely she's worldly enough to have come across this topic during all her reading.


Chapter 14. Eesh. Only two more chapters left, I think! The Fan Fiction forum's gonna be pretty quiet during December! Maybe another storywriter will show up, though. I've tried to [Persuade] one of the other Chorrolites recently.

Yeah, that's the thing about Tiphannia. I bet all sorts of conversations were said in her presence, stuff ppl wouldn't ordinarily say, because everyone thought Tiph was too slow or stupid to comprehend.

I like that: One thing about being small, it was easier to hide!

Hmm, I don't know about this black flower thing. I wonder if it's a trap!

[WellTemperedClavier]

@Acadian - I remember playing a Bosmer for the first time, and being surprised at how short I was in comparison to everyone else. It stuck with me.

Heh, Morrowind lore can quickly become bewildering. That's one reason I kept it as background stuff; what really matters about the Nerevarine here is that it throws a wrench in everyone's plans.

Even as the Fashion Club starts to drift, they do what they can to help. It's like Jeval's thought from earlier in the story: Quinn's what the Empire was supposed to be (at least from their perspective).

@SubRosa - Yeah, I figured it'd be a bit annoying to have someone try to win points in that way.

Tiphannia's feelings are mixed, but she knows this is too important for past grudges to interfere.

Well, the Nerevarine hasn't chosen to kill Vivec yet. Maybe they're just focused on Dagoth Ur for the time being (and Dagoth is the more immediate threat).

The chaos is pretty scary, but yeah, it does provide a shield.

@Renee - Actually, Helen even remarks on this in Chapter 12. She points out that the slaver was likely going against orders, since slavers operating openly in Balmora would embarrass Great House Hlaalu.

Yes, Daria would be aware. But remember, Daria's someone who reads a lot and has a deep curiosity about the world around her (even if she keeps it arm's length). In fact, she did see the slave market during her ill-fated visit to Sadrith Mora.

Jeval, on the other hand, is more content to drift along. He knew slavery was out there, and he knew it was awful, but it wasn't his concern (until now).

Yeah, Tiphannia probably knows way more than most people would be comfortable with since so many folks would just blab about stuff around her, thinking she was too dumb to get it. She could probably start a one-woman spy ring in Balmora...

So I actually thought black roses were herbs you could collect in-game, but it turns out they're only in Morrowind if you have Tamriel Rebuilt (got TR lore and Vanilla lore mixed up again). It's a perfectly innocuous plant.

Huh, looking it up now and apparently it was also in Daggerfall.

Chapter 15

Jeval almost didn’t see Ulnar Roweni, who sat in the back of the parlor where the shadows were thickest. A big book was open on his lap, and he raised his eyes as the door opened.

“Ah, Jeval! Good to see you. I’m sorry the circumstances are so grim.”

Jeval nodded. “Thank you, Muthsera Roweni. I mean it.”

“You’re a good Mer, Jeval. Ah, Treads-on-Ferns?”

“Yes?”

“Jeval and I will need to discuss some matters privately. I don’t mean to be rude, but I must ask you to step outside.”

“Muthsera, she stays with me,” Jeval said.

Sera Roweni’s jaw stiffened. “This is a sensitive issue. Helping you puts the cause at risk. I am willing to do that, in this case. However, I cannot have anyone else listening in. There are times when the simple act of knowing something can be dangerous. What I say must be between me and you. If this is unacceptable, than I am afraid we’re done here.”

Treads looked to Jeval.

“It’s your call,” she said.

“Will you be okay outside?”

“The crowd makes me nervous, but I’ll manage. You’ll be okay in here?”

“Yeah.”

Treads took a deep breath. “I’ll be in the alley. Let me know when things wrap up.”

She left. Jeval flinched when the door closed behind her.

“Apologies. However, I must proceed with caution. The fact that we’re even having this conversation shows that my wife and I both need to be much more careful. I’ll admit we underestimated Tiphannia.”

Droning chants came through the walls and shuttered windows. It was almost black as night in the Roweni parlor. Jeval took a seat, hoping he hadn’t made a bad decision in sending Treads away.

“Can you help me?” he asked.

“I believe so, yes. You will need to be prepared to move quickly, however. You won’t have time for many goodbyes.”

“That’s fine.”

“Good. Go to the riverside docks closest to the south wall on the Labor Town side. Do so after nightfall, but do not delay past midnight. There will be an Altmer boatman named Hulilankonel—you can call him Huli, he won’t mind—who will take you to Seyda Neen. I’ve already paid him, so you don’t need to worry about that.”

“What do I do then?”

“Get passage on a boat heading out of Morrowind,” Sera Roweni said. He opened a drawer in the small table next to him and took a heavy looking pouch. It jingled as he handed it to Jeval. “This should have enough to get you to Skyrim at the very least. I’m afraid you’re on your own after that.”

Weighing the pouch was like holding his entire future in his hands. “Gods. Thank you so much. I don’t even know what to say.”

Sera Roweni smiled. “You don’t need to say anything. I must insist that you not tell Treads about the boatman. It’s not that I don’t trust her, but spreading this information does put Twin Lamps operations here at risk.”

It didn’t feel quite right. But what else could he do? Jeval nodded. “Sure. Do you always help people like this?”

“On the contrary. The Twin Lamps is very selective. Ordinarily, prospects must contribute to the cause in a great way. You did a gallant, wonderful thing. But you did it more to help a friend than to end slavery. I do not say that as judgment, simply as a statement of fact.”

“So why are you helping me?”

“My wife and I determined that this was low risk. After all, even if you do report us, you’re an outlander and I am a wealthy Dunmer of Great House Hlaalu. No one will believe you. You have also been a good friend to my daughter. And, if you want to get right down to it, I’m a sentimental old fool and I couldn’t stand to see you punished for doing the right thing.”

“Thanks again,” Jeval said. “But you’re part of Great House Hlaalu, right? Are you working against them with the Twin Lamps?”

“No, quite the opposite. I know full-well the evils that Great House Hlaalu has committed in the name of profit. But I am Dunmer. I cannot allow my family or my house to be destroyed. Thus, I will temporarily undermine Hlaalu via abolition in the hopes that we will at least survive the storm, in however diminished a form. A reckoning is coming for the Dunmer. My prayer is that it will be a reckoning of lost fortunes and ruined names. Because the alternative will come as a tide of blood to drown the land.”

“Like a revolt?” Jeval asked.

“Quite likely. Enough to say that it is inevitable, and the Empire’s decline makes it imminent.”

“Is that why you’re having Satheri marry that guy? So she doesn’t get caught up in this?”

“That is part of it. Satheri’s is a kind and wonderful girl. But she has no strength. Her being with us threatens the cause. We've kept our activities secret from her. Because if an ordinator or a Hlaalu agent wanted her to name names, all he’d have to do is tell her that my wife and I will be spared if she does. She’ll believe him, the poor girl.

“She cannot do any harm if she is far away. Her husband-to-be and his family have half-hearted abolitionist sympathies. They do not own slaves and are heavily invested in Cyrodiil. My hope is that they will one day move there, away from Morrowind and its crimes. Then Satheri will be safe.”

Except Satheri had no strength, like Ulnar had just said. Jeval wondered if he really wanted to say what was on his mind.

“Got it,” he finally said. “I think Satheri might be a little scared. Just so you know.”

“Scared? My daughter’s terrified of this marriage. But so be it. My wife and I might dress like Cyrodiilics, but we are Dunmer to our cores. The Dunmer are cruelest to those they love most. There’s just no other way.”

Jeval shuddered inwardly. But he was too worn out to worry about Satheri.

“Do you understand what to do tonight, Jeval?” Sera Roweni asked.

“Yeah.”

“Repeat it to me, so I’m sure you know.”

“I go to the riverside dock on Labor Town nearest to the south wall. There’s an Altmer boatman there named Huli, and he’ll take me to Seyda Neen. Then I find another boat leaving Morrowind and I’m on my own.”

Sera Roweni nodded. “That’s the gist of it, yes. I know you’ll want to say goodbyes, but I strongly suggest you avoid talking to anyone.”

“Can’t I see my family?”

“It’s your choice, Jeval. But I caution against it. That is all.”

Jeval stood up and bowed again. “Thank you, muthsera. I owe you for this.”

“You can repay me by escaping safely and quietly. Good luck.”

In silence, Jeval left the Roweni house for the last time.

*********

Sera Roweni hadn’t wanted Jeval to say any goodbyes, but he couldn’t leave Treads in the lurch. With his hood up and his heart in his mouth, he walked back to the alley. Balmora kept getting crazier around him; Dunmer kept marching and chanting.

Treads was waiting there for him.

“I’m leaving tonight,” he said.

“Tonight? Oh, gods. I know—I know it’s stupid of me, but I’d hoped you’d stay.” A thin rasp came out of her throat and she hugged him, grabbing him close. “It’s not fair.”

“I know,” he said, trying not to cry. Because he needed to stay calm, and crying would only make it worse. Tears came to his eyes anyway.

They pulled apart, though Treads kept her hands on his shoulders.

“Uh, Muthsera Roweni didn’t want me to tell you any details. I trust you—”

“It’s okay,” Treads said. “I just need to know you have a safe way out. What about your family?”

He gulped. Dad was still on his trip. Mom and sis would have to deal with this all on their own until he got back. “I don’t know if I can actually see them right now. Like… I might totally fall apart if I do. You’ll tell mom I’m okay?”

“Of course. Look, my dad knows what happened. We’re leaving Morrowind. I don’t know where we’ll go, and I don’t know when. But it’ll be as soon as possible. We’ll try to talk your parents and sister into going with us. They know this place sucks.”

“Okay, that works.”

“Also, I’m only saying this because my dad made me promise I would, but he says you should join the Legion. That they need troopers like you.”

It was such a weird thing to say that Jeval couldn’t help laughing. But it was totally Mr. Flowers.

“Don’t know if I’ll do that. But I’m glad he thinks that about me.”

Treads hugged him again. “You’re a hero, Jeval. Not your fault this town’s too stupid to see it. Write to us wherever you end up, okay? Can you promise me?”

“I promise.”

Her arms relaxed, and he slipped through. It was almost dark, most of the light coming from the votive candles and torches.

“Let me walk you to your house, at least,” he said.

“Just like old times,” she said.

They walked together as Balmora wailed into the night.

[SubRosa]

The Dunmer are cruelest to those they love most.
This really does carry through your tales. Morrowind has been fucking around for a long time. I see old man Satheri realizes the finding out part is about to start. Given what we know, his worst fears are about to come true.

I don't see Jeval joining the Legion, though I can certainly see why Tread's dad would want him to. I mean, he's not wrong. The Legion needs people like Jeval. But I don't think people like Jeval need the Legion.

And it is off to walk into the sunset. Or it will be soon enough. It feels sad to go, in spite of how dingy and grimy Jeval's Balmora is.

[Acadian]

It struck me as very wise of you to not have Sera Roweni cave in to Jeval’s initial noble insistence that Treads stay. Beyond Roweni being right in ‘need to know only’, it was very realistic since Jeval is in no position to make demands as he seeks assistance.

That said, I’m glad that Treads was safe until Jeval returned to her. I can almost feel Balmora – and perhaps all of Morrowind – burning, full of unrest and falling apart. I hope all the outlanders get out safely (despite knowing most of their futures from your main story epilogue).

[WellTemperedClavier]

@SubRosa - Indeed. One of Synda's stories in Outlanders had her quote a Dunmer aphorism that I made up, something along the lines of "Only secret crimes are forgiven." Which I think explains the Dunmer approach to things pretty accurately; maybe when you start by worshipping Daedra of murder, you won't end up anywhere good.

How well the Legion would turn out for Jeval probably depends a lot on what unit he's with. Damp-with-Dew's account shows there are some really corrupt units in Black Marsh. But if Jeval were to end up with a unit like Mr. Flowers's, he'd probably be pretty happy. Regardless, he's not joining the Legion.

Yeah, I wrote this in part because it felt like I still needed to do a little bit more with Balmora. But now I think it's about wrapped up.

@Acadian - Indeed. Sera Roweni wants to help, but given his position, it has to be on his terms. And he was lying a little bit, since Great House Hlaalu is more involved with abolitionism than he implies. The founder of the Twin Lamps is Ilmeni Dren, a notable Hlaalu member after all. But there's no reason for Jeval to know this, so Roweni implies he and his wife are the only ones.

I actually didn't envision the Nerevarine stuff causing any bloodshed within Balmora. The Dunmer are shocked and upset, but the Legion's right next to them and the Temple's keeping some level of order. Even when the Tribunal disappears, the Temple will hush that up so things on Vvardenfell will probably be relatively quiet until Red Year.

Chapter 16

Jeval didn’t know just how bright a morning sky could be until he reached the city of Rihad.

A cool wind blew in from the jewel-blue ocean, brushing past the sandstone domes and the rooftop gardens all through the ancient Redguard metropolis.

Putting his hands in his pockets and trying to ignore the hunger in his belly, Jeval walked along the docks and wondered what he’d do next. Since leaving Morrowind he’d hopped from one caravan to another, from Skyrim tundra to Nibenese jungle to the Colovian dry hills. Now he was in Hammerfell, nine months after leaving Morrowind. The place wasn’t quite what he’d expected, but he liked it anyway.

The money Muthsera Roweni had given him was long-gone. The caravans hadn’t paid much. He’d used a big chunk of change to send a letter to Balmora, not even knowing if his family and friends were still there. He had enough to survive a few more days.

But somehow, he wasn’t that worried. Things were beginning for him, not ending. He looked good, too. Turned out, there were ways to stay stylish on a budget. He’d found a wooden comb left by the roadside in Skyrim to keep his hair nice. On the caravan to Bruma, a friendly Orc with a pair of scissors had given him a new haircut, one trimmed down and sleek but still with that lock hanging down over his forehead. Clothes were tough; he couldn’t afford anything new. But he cleaned what he had in the springs and rivers. He’d even added a bright red sash he’d bought at a second-hand shop in Chorrol.

Jeval stopped at one of the ships, a sturdy but weather-beaten cog. A powerfully built Redguard walked the deck, taking notes on a slate.

“Hey, uh, are you guys hiring?” Jeval asked.

The Redguard looked up from the slate. “Sure, we always need a few extra hands. You know anything about sailing?”

“To tell you the truth, I don’t,” Jeval admitted. “But I learn fast, I’m nimble, and I can take care of myself. I caravan-hopped from Morrowind to here, and I’m still alive.”

The man nodded. “We keep things pretty simple on here, take cargo from Point A to Point B, with maybe a stop or two along the way. Our next trip’s to Virimoor with a stopover in Anvil. Now, you have to be able to pull your weight. If you aren’t, we’ll leave you in Anvil. But if you are, you can stay with us.”

“Sounds fair to me.”

The man smiled. “That’s the spirit! We’re leaving early Sundas morning. You’d best get here at midnight Loredas to be sure you get your place. Think you can manage that?”

“For sure. I’ll see you then.”

“Don’t be late.”

Walking away from the dock, the whole city and all its adventures before him, Jeval knew he’d make it. He’d miss Quinn and the Fashion Club. He’d even miss Balmora in a weird way. But he’d find something new here.

And even though it hurt like hell to be so far away from Treads, he somehow knew they’d meet again, each of them with a hundred new stories to tell.

The End

This post has been edited by WellTemperedClavier: Nov 26 2023, 05:50 PM

[Acadian]

This storyline has been rather a sad one overall because I don’t really think there is any solution to the problems plaguing Morrowind, including the fashion club’s little corner of it. But your title for the story foretold that. Jeval was an excellent primary point of view for this poignant tale and you did a superb job bringing his voice to life.

I was delighted to see this final episode nicely laced with a lighter, humorous and optimistic touch. Jeval continues to exercise the lessons Quinn taught him as he maintains his dapper appearance – even on a budget. His final ruminations made me smile as he holds high hopes for the future. And I tend to agree with him, for he has shown himself to be a resourceful survivor.

Thank you for another very enjoyable read!

[SubRosa]

Jeval made it! All the way to Hammerfell no less!

And Jeval is styling Patrick Swayze-like as he saunters along the streets of Rihad. He's Stayin' Alive after all.

And now we see how Jeval will become the sailor we will know in the future.

As Acadian said, this is a rather somber story, as it deals with all the ugly inequality of Morrowind, and hints at the cataclysm that we know is on the horizon. But it is a good inciting incident for Jeval to become the Underground Railroad man we met in the epilogue of Dara's tale.

But the end is very positive, which I also liked. Jeval is surviving the unfairness and cruelty of the world, and is creating a better life for both himself and the people around him. Leaving the world a little better than you found it is about the most noble thing I think a person can do.

[Renee]

Very true. Daria was in Sadirth Mora. Not sure how far she walked around, but yeah, if she was headed toward that outdoor marketplace and the docks, chances are she would've seen the slaves in those hanging pod things. Fay Daway (my wood elf) managed to join Telvanni, then was shocked by those pods. She opened every one of those pods. There are no consequences for this, thank the Gods. It would've been 1 against dozens.

Nice, they can hear chanting as they're sitting indoors. Almost sounds like outdoor prayers which occur in some Muslim countries.

He's headed to Skyrim. Twin Lamps sounds a bit like the underground railroad here in America's 1800s.

Ah. So yeah. Let's say Jeval somehow changes his mind or gets caught or whatever, and then he starts rambling about how Roweni is somehow to blame for whatever. Very true. Roweni could just say "Who? .. Jevel? Jevol? Never heard of such a fellow." Then it'd be his word against this esteemed member of the community. I love how this is not a goodness, cut-and-dried situation. There's a lot of risk and the possibility of serious consequences.

My gosh, he's going. Well hey, at least he won't need to argue with his family any longer about what to do with his future. Intead he'll be arguing with himself, in a totally cold, strange land. Hmm. If he's taking the boat to Skyrim where would he port? Solitude? Dawnstar? Windhelm? ❄ Hopefully Solitude. That'd be the least culture shock for the poor fellow.


I think it's possible. Joining the Legion wouldn't necessarily means he'd be a soldier. Like in Laprima's tale, Aunt Elisif recommended Laprima join so she could get involved in administration, or something else which is non-combative. I imagine they'd take one look at Jeval and say "no way are you a capable warrior!" But maybe they'd need him to crunch numbers or clean the mess hall or some such.

Never mind. He's not staying in Skyrim. Rihad, where is Rihad? Ah I see. Hammerfell. Right. The air is crystal clear because he's away from Morrowind's smog.

Even when travelling he's keeping his vanity!

Yikes, THE END. But it's an appropriate end, I'd say. The future's wide open. We can imagine how he got involved with sailing, indeed. Which explains his portion of the Epilogue when he was carrying those stowaways to better times & places. 📖

This post has been edited by Renee: Nov 28 2023, 08:12 PM