The Saga of Joan of Arkay, A Morrowind Main Quest Story Options

[Acadian]

Having never played TES III, it was fun to learn a bit more of this Caius character in his own words.

And Joan ‘Get that man a shirt!’ of Arkay returns! Another task that will this time take her to Vivec City and even provides some advance pay.

[macole]

The Caius Cosades text which starts in italics up above was originally written by glargg, which I amended a bit to fit the story above. I found the text while reading an old forum post of his on this page, and it just fit perfectly with what I had in mind for this chapter. Hope you don't mind if I borrow that glargg, wherever you are!

Fasinating how glargg took Caius Cossades and turned him into the Hero of Kvatch and Champion of Cyrodiil.

Oh, and tell Joan to save her money. That guy is never going to wear a shirt.

[WellTemperedClavier]

He's not Caius anymore if he wears a shirt. That's just how he rolls, and Joan needs to accept it.

Interesting getting Caius's perspective on the whole thing. Joan's pragmatic enough to not always wear the Legion uniform, but not quite pragmatic enough to be comfortable dealing with the Thieves Guild and the Morag Tong. Wonder how she'll manage with them...

[Renee]

SubRosa -- glargg made Caius into an Oblivion character long ago, and oh yeah, I did borrow his work. I hope this is okay! I got to know the guy well when we were all posting (gulp) a decade ago. I have a feeling he'd be okay with it.

Everything in Elder Scrolls III, all the organizations, have an aura of nefariousness, right?


Lopov -- You wonder if my busy go-getting Crusader chick will buy a top for Caius eh? Is she not already busy enough? Hee ha. That whole sub-plot is just like Kahreem trying to get the Gray Fox to remove his stupid cowl.

And yeah, I kind of get what the Nerevar is all about, after stumbling across dozens of unintentional spoilers over the years, but the Sixth House remains truly ... shrouded in mystery...


Acadian -- No kidding. I thought you had played Morrowind in the past, but maybe I'm getting mixed up with some other game from that era. Maybe it was Baldur's Gate ...

macole -- I agree (about when glargg made Caius into the Hero of Kvatch). Back in the day I apparently never mentioned how brilliant his roleplay with Caius was, not publicly anyway. A bunch of us were writing back then, which was fun.

WellTemperedClavier -- My game is days and weeks ahead of the story by now. Vivec Informants is quite an unexpectedly ... uh... dangerous quest. Some very tense moments occur for sure.

[Renee]

Chapter XXIX -- Nar gro-Shagramph

8 Sun's Dusk (Day 85)



"Not a lot of pretty ladies around here."

Back in Ebonheart's Imperial Chapel, Joan receives the Stendarran Belt from Kaye, for cleansing the haunted house of Nedhelas up in Caldera. Obtaining this unique piece of apparel means fortifying aspects of her abilities with combat, specifically as she'll attack with maces and clubs. Since she's gotten interested in blunt-type weapons over the past few weeks, this belt is one she's going to keep.

For delivering five samples of black anther to Synnolian, she receives a book called The Four Suitors of Benitah, which she'll hopefully have time to read, some day. She had been quite the bookworm in her youth. But as a young adult, as each day passes on to the next, and as she finds herself in perilous circumstances more and more often, she's found reading for the sake of immersing herself into adventure, imagination, and fantasy to be somewhat of a moot point. As each day passes on to the next, her actual life has become a constant fantasy, filled with adventure, as she never knows what sort of imaginative situation the Gods will place her into next.

Joan is also promoted to Acolyte.

The next quest from Kaye is really interesting. "Not long ago we drove a coven of witches from the old Daeddric ruins of Ashalmawia. However, one witch escaped - a Dark Elf named Thelsa Dral."

Joan nods grimly. Begins scribbling notes in her journal.

"But just recently, egg miners from nearby Asha-Ahhe Egg Mine have complained the mine is cursed!" Kaye then suggests, of course, that somebody take care of this. He even gives this 'somebody' full authority to kill the witch, if necessary.

She is to head to the village of Khuul, which is somewhere on the northwest coast of Vvardenfell, and then travel by foot to the mine. Kaye's directions are a bit vague, but he does know that Thelsa can summon bonewalkers, and so he warns her of this.

"Bonewalkers sha'n't be of any grand concern," Joan replies calmly, thinking of the arsenal of spells she's got which can turn or harm undead. "May Arkay guide these miscreants toward true light." She had learned two of these spells when she was just sixteen.

Finally, two unexpected things happen:

1). Kaye gives Joan 300 drakes to help her on her way. Very much appreciated, and

2). Iulus Truptor, the primate who'd gotten sniffy with her after she failed to bring in money from Ebonheart's Skyrim Mission, asks her to collect 100 drakes from Ebonheart's Argonian Mission.

Amazingly, Joan manages to do this, collecting all hundred from Im-Kilaya, the mission's leader, within a couple hours. She relies a bit on her Maran Amulet to do so, but her budding abilities with words and persuasions cannot be ignored.

The Acolyte also believes her attire has helped. She enters the place barefoot, noticing that those whose ancestry had begun long ago in Black Marsh never don footwear here in Morrowind. She also (once again) sets aside her Imperial cuirass before embarking to the mission. By now, she knows with certainty that not everybody in the province has unfounded respect for the Legion.

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

14 Sun's Dusk (Day 91), early afternoon

Firmly started into winter, finally there is some actual cooler air to breathe here in Vvardenfell. Joan walks from one Vivec canton to the next, as rain pours and chilly winds howl across the city's stone avenues.

She has several things she'll need to do today, and has chosen a set of common-class clothes to wear. No armor. And she is barefoot. All of this is being done in an attempt to appear as ordinary as possible, since she'll be needing to obtain sensitive information. Two of the Vivec residents she'll need to speak are from vile organizations.

"Why do the ordinators choose to even tolerate the Tong and Guild of Thieves, openly and legally within their locales?" Joan scoffs, her feet sloshing in water. She is here on behalf of Caius Cosades, to learn all she can about the Nerevarine Cult and Sixth House. Seems not to be such a difficult task...

But first, the Guild of Fighters here in Vivec collars her attention with their latest quest for her: she must collect a piece of jewelry from an orc named Nar gro-Shagramph, who is rumored to have a very rare Juicedaw Feather Ring in his possession. Nar was supposed to deliver the ring to somebody named Ranes Ienith, but Ranes claims to have never received it. Now the Fighters Guild wants it back!

-- Does Baurin, the guild's inhouse Bosmer Scout and stealth trainer, get this mission? ... Does Raig? Does Sjoring Hard-Heart? ... No, no, and no. They want Joan to do it, even though she's relatively unknown here in Vivec.

"Perhaps they see within me some aptitudes they lack?"

Still, this isn't such a horrid assignment. From the sound of it, nobody's going to need to be put down (or else). She'll be able to rely on words to get this done, or so she hopes.

She walks from the Foreign Quarter to Redoran Canton, and from Redoran to the Hlaalu Canton. Her clothes are soaked by the time she reaches the top tier of Hlaalu, so she takes a few minutes to dry them out a bit by an open brazier.

It doesn't take long for her to locate the orc, whom she finds moseying about Hlaalu's central plaza.

"How fares thee, Nar? I am Joan, of the Fighters Guild," she informs, looking for any sort of adverse reactions from him. Does he glance to his feet in shame for hoarding the ring? Does he quickly touch his face in an attempt to hide a telling expression of guilt?

He does nothing of the sort. "I am Nar gro-Shagramph, the barbarian," answers the orc proudly and confidently, as if he has no idea why she is here.

After a bit of small-talk, during which Nar continues to evade the subject, Joan activates the magic from her Maran Amulet (fortifying her ability to persuade), and also releases some mana from her belt (fortifying her overall persona). She feels just a pang of something while doing so, as though relying on unseen forces to gain the upper-hand is a bit devious. But the job must get done. And at least nobody's going to need to fight to any sort of death here. Or so she hopes. Will her new Aedrically-enchanted items make any sort of difference?

"So, in case you have wonder as to why a guild apprentice such as myself has appeared, and's been in actuality sent to converse with you Nar, I am here in regaliant representation of the guild, to retrieve an item you might have in your very possession." Joan consults her notebook, in an effort to make herself look somewhat official. "To explain a bit more bluntly, we have knowledge that it is you, who possesses a ring which portends to ease the burdens of its wearer. And now, the guild requests the ring back."

"But I don't got any ring," Nar says defensively. "And...and I don't not know what you are talking about." -- And there it is, a certain 'tell'; a touch to the bridge of his nose as he lies to her face.

"Ah. You've not any supposed knowledge of the feather ring then," she starts. "Yet 'twas you, Nar gro-Shagramph, who was tasked to deliver the ring to Ranes Ienith." She tries to say this without coming across as accusatory, which is perhaps impossible of course. "Aye. I do know his name."

The orc says nothing; it's the sudden and apparent itch upon his backside which says it all for him. He begins to reach for his behind. But then stops, as if realizing this is not something we'd just do before a lady, especially one who's pestering him for possible theft. Instead of scratching back there, Nar hangs his large green hand to his side.

"Might I mention this name, Ranes Ienith, and thine as well, to the grand posse of ordinators here within Hlaalu Canton? ... Might we first concede to consider all of them walking about this very floor? ... Oh my," she points, "we've got an ordinator gleaming within golden armor, strutting about within plain eyesight!" Joan pauses for effect. "Might we also take a moment to reckon the Fighters Guild itself, which was so kind to place you as their trustworthy hireling, and for one simple task?"

The orc does not answer. But his brow contracts a bit with angst, another certain tell.

"We must mull over Nar," she says pedantically, narrowing her thoughts as an archer aims for the bullseye. "For was it not you, Nar gro-Shagramph, who is known by all employed locally by the guild to hold the magical ring in coveted possession..."

With each additional set of words, she can see the orc before her begins to pout and shuffle, his resolve beginning to slip. This is intentional. One of her past instructors was just like this, always building and adding more talk, more jawing, more phrases, more endless discussion, in an effort to push an errant student to confession. Or convince a classful of debating pupils to see things his way. The man could fill virtual novels with his ramblings.

"I sha'n't make mention of this matter to them," she concludes. "The ordinators, the guild, they shall not know of your deception, Nar. Hand over the ring, and I'll cause an effort to place good words for you orc, that you may continue your erstwhile living and riches upon the plains. A barbarian, as you describe, with plenty of barbarian-type tasks upon your ledger."

"Uh... you're are too kind, Fighters Guild woman."

Joan tilts her head slightly. "The ring? ... I can see the guilt upon your conscience, Nar." She looks down to her notepad again, flipping a few pages for effect. "Let me eloqute a tale from my youth for you, Nar. For there was once upon a time when in haste and impatience--"

"Fine, take it," the orc says gruffly, grabbing the piece from his pocket, and tossing it over. "Never liked the stupid ring, anyway."

The Fighters Guild apprentice nods in confidence. "May you bask in all the glory which pertains to Julianos, for your forthright decision."

"Whatever you say, Fighters Guild woman. Just leave me alone!"

There, it is done. Perhaps this is why the guild has chosen her, because it seems she's somebody who does just this: she gets things done.

But Joan hits a wall later on, as she tries to locate the Thieves Guild, where she hopes to speak to the first subject on Caius's list. After following the ambiguous advice of several Vivec residents she ends up in the canton of St. Olmes, climbing a ladder into its Underworks. Down here the lights are dim, and the air is murky. If the guild is indeed located under St. Olmes, she decides it'd be a bad idea to explore this area without full armor pieces. Not necessarily her legionnaire's armor, but also not the clothes of a pauper.

Perhaps she'd better fetch her guard, as well.



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

Juicedaw Feather Ring "conversation"

NOTES: The part above when Joan delivers that long sermon to the orc and he says "You're too kind" or whatever was me getting successful with the Admire button, once again.

[SubRosa]

So Joan might be turning into a blunt instrument? Or at least start using one?

I love how her real life has soured her on reading adventure fiction. Hard to beat her own experiences!

So Joan did not just take 100 drakes from what Kaye gave her, and hand it straight to Iulus for his task? When January did all those fundraisers, she just paid for it all with her own money.

I love that she continues to show her humility by walking barefoot.

So Joan is on a jewelry recovery mission. At least it isn't rats.

I like that she is fortifying her charisma and speechin' skills. I started doing that a long time ago in Oblivion, since I could never make much sense of that game's persuasion wheel mini-game.

Congrats to Joan for solving this one without having to kill anyone.

[Acadian]

Joan is progressing nicely as the barefoot knight! I see she is building up her bone-smashing blunt weapons skills to back up her impressive speechcraft. Nice job talking that orc into submission. Anything to get rid of that funny talking fighters guild woman!

[Lena Wolf]

"Let me eloquate a tale from my youth for you, Nar. For there was once upon a time when in haste and impatience--"

"Whatever you say, Fighters Guild woman. Just leave me alone!"

So, she talked his ears off. Well, I'd say Joan got very lucky that this orc just tossed the ring instead of pulling out his big barbarian's axe and teaching Joan to STOP TALKING! I know a certain Wolf who would react like that...

[macole]

If Joan ever gets her hands on a bottle of Telvanni Bug Musk, watch out! There will be no stopping her.

[Lena Wolf]

If Joan ever gets her hands on a bottle of Telvanni Bug Musk, watch out! There will be no stopping her.

I think Telvanni Bug Musk would be very un-knightly though!

[WellTemperedClavier]

Navigating Vivec is never easy. Joan's quite patient for putting up with it with so little fuss. Though Vivec's less of a pain than Morrowind's persuasion system...

Also, good job on doing what an Imperial does best: talking one's way to victory. Joan figured out how to guilt Nar into handing over the ring, which is a good use of that "Voice of the Emperor" perk. Probably also good for Joan's personal sense of morality, too. Though keen on justice, she never seemed terribly fond of killing folks, and Nar's sins are pretty minor in the grand scheme of things.

This post has been edited by WellTemperedClavier: Aug 10 2022, 02:59 AM

[Renee]

My goodness. Woke up about an hour ago. Window's been open all night since it's summer, but right now it's actually cold in my room. 59 degrees! No wonder I slept really well.

~-~-~-~
SubRosa -- Yes, that part when she talks about having trouble keeping up with book-reading. That's something Jim Morrison said in an interview, how he grew up reading & writing poetry and was quite an avid reader, but as The Doors became popular his entire life became a book. Same line of thought applies here for my character. Uh.. not that she's going to become a maniacal rock star.

I remember you saying that Jan'd use her own money to pay off the Alms for Poor quests! Clever.

"Congrats to Joan for accomplishing this without having to kill anyone" -- Yes absolutely! It is also possible to do the Juicedaw Ring quest (and other quests of this nature) by using Speech to Taunt the person we're talking to. If successful, then WE get attacked, which causes the Ordinators or Legion to come to our rescue if they're around. If they aren't around, we still have legal recourse to fight back.

~-~-~-~-~

Acadian-- The whole barefoot thing began long ago with Dyan phor a'Cauz, a TES4 character who did Knights of the Nine. She'd wear and carry the most expensive, top-grade armor she could loot or buy; at Level 5 or 6 for instance, she had the only example of Elven armor cuirass in her gameworld. But when she was in town, especially on Sundas, she'd wear rucksack clothes and dressed like a peasant without shoes. She would spend all day in chapels too, I mean, literally in real-time she would sit in chapel all day, while I ... did other things like surfed Beth's forums.

It was something neat which caused her game to feel very unique. Of course, this is something important for those of us who have a lot of people we're gaming with.

Anything to get rid of that funny talking fighters guild woman-- Ha ha glad you see the humor here!

~-~-~-~

Lena -- Yes...there's the famous quip from pissed-off NPCs in Oblivion: Stop.... TALKING!!!

Lena & macole-- WHOA Fortify Personality 40 points!!! I had no idea. All this time I've been looking for scrolls, heck, even the actual Charm spell for certain characters. Problem is scrolls are hard to find, and Charm is really expensive.

As much as I play these games, I don't know everything about them. Not that Joan'll ever drink something like this, but I have other characters who certainly would.

~-~-~-~-~

WellTemperedClavier -- Ain't that the truth (about Vivec). It's taken me a long time to begin learning how those cantons are arranged. I'm finally at the point where I can navigate the Foreign District, Hlaalu, Redoran, and Arena without consulting the map. I use shadows on the ground to figure out which direction to go. In other words, if it's morning, and my character's shadow's on the left, he or she is headed north.

But it has taken literal years to get to this point.

Joan's not an Impie though, she is Breton!

I am running out of stories to post. Been busy these last few weeks and all that. But fortunately I've got another Joan almost ready to go.

[Renee]

Chapter XXX -- Huleeya

15 Sun's Dusk, (Day 92), late afternoon

Need some information about an Argoninan? Who better to ask than somebody who's a descendant of Black Marsh? That's how Joan finds out about Huleeya, one of the three members she is to speak to on Caius's list. Huleeya is found in the Black Shalk Cornerclub, which is located in the Foreign Quarter's Lower Waistworks section.

She dresses herself in a tan cotton blouse and her new gray skirt. She heads to the club.

But as things go, it takes her a while to get there. The shy maiden-crusader from Cheydinhal frequently finds herself distracted into conversations as she walks, speaking to merchants, speaking to lollygaggers, and so on. As things go, she often ends each set of verbal exchanges with a compliment. Or some sort of pleasant notions, which are meant to brighten someone's day. Usually with positive results.

"Yes, that's better," Raig the Redguard, a fellow Fighters Guild member. "I've love to!"

"You noticed?" Rolasa Oren blushes, her greenish-blue face coloring aqua. "Yes, Joan of the Fighters Guild, it's true."

But then there are those who aren't so happy to hear her compliments, and who aren't necessarily pleased about her generalized positive observations.

"We're watching you... scum!" warns an ordinator.

"What pretty words, Holy Knight," a robe-wearing pauper says curtly. "And how artlessly self-serving."

By the time she gets to Black Shalk, several hours have passed, and mostly she's been indoors. The sun has probably gone down. Joan realizes she's about to walk into Morag Tong territory, where assassins can discuss their latest executions casually and freely. For the Tong is legal in Morrowind. Legal, and also necessary by some.

This is no matter to her. Into the club she walks. Icy stares greet her as she steps into the cornerclub. Gossip and banter come to an abrupt halt. Now is one of those times Joan Marie from Cyrodiil feels most like an Outlander. Her brown eyes move from one set of red eyes to the next. It's a tense moment.

Then finally ... "You may speak," says a nearby elf wearing rough yet elaborate clothes.

"Greetings Dunmer, my name is Joan," she begins. "Of the Fighters Guild."

"Get out of our way, n'wah," the rough-looking elf growls. He holds a flagon full of some sort of drink, which he places upon the table before him rather begrudgingly. "We got issues with this filthy lizard here."

Joan wonders why he tells her this; it's not like she's announced why she is here. Maybe the elf assumes that she (as a member of the guild) is here to do something about Huleeya? ... Otherwise, she is able to ignore the elf's insult, for she seems to be in the right place. "Yes, an Argonian by the name of Huleeya. Might he be present and perhaps nearby?"

"His kind aren't welcome here," rough-look grumbles. "He belongs in the swamp with the rest of them."

"Now, now. We all have a right to gather colloquially, do we not?" She smiles, despite insult number two being strewn about. "I do thank ye kindly, elf. May those who look over and above us all shine upon thy path."

"Goodness, Joan. What can I say?" the rough-looking customer says, apparently stunned.

The Cheydinhalian smiles again, briefly and grimly. She then raises her hands and makes a gesture, causing the room to fill with light and radiance. It's a rather bold move. The Black Shalk is rather dim, not just with a lack of ambient light sources, but also in spirit. There's a certain darkness which hangs in the air, akin to doom and desperation. Joan feels she must challenge this.

The club is filled with patrons, mostly Dunmer. There is just one Argonian in the room, which makes finding the 'filthy lizard' a cinch.

"Tell your friends about this place," greets the bartender as Joan walks by. This man is nicer than the one she'd just spoke to, maybe he's impressed by her possibly-errant display of magic. Joan rents a room from him, orders a yam, and gets into a bit of small-talk about Huleeya. Finally, she speaks to the Argonian.

"Summoned by annnother. Quessstions againnn."

"Huleeya? My name is Joan Marie, and I come to chat with you in regards of some rather umbrageous matters. Might we broach upon --." She stops herself, realizing she's speaking in a way which is perhaps too fancy. "Might we have a few words?"

The Argonian wears an odd combination of armor, mostly made of materials the Cyrodiilian cannot identify. Joan activates the Maraian magic in her amulet.

"I welcome you as the friend of my friend, Joan of Cheydinhal," the lizard greets, surprising her. How does Huleeya have knowledge of my name AND from where I hail? "But I wisssh to go to my friend's bookstore, and these troublesome folksss are in my way," he complains slowly.

"Oh my..."

Huleeya says he'll only speak to her further if they head to Jobasha's Rare Books first. The other Tong members do not like him, he states openly. He worries a fight could break out, if the wrong words get mentioned.

So off they go toward the Foreign Quarter's bookstore ... or so Joan thinks.

"DIE!!!"

And just like that, they are attacked by three Morag Tong ruffians, all who equip themselves with small hand weapons, all who start swinging and slashing. Magic is cast, both offensive and protective! -- The room blurs with fighting and sudden movement! -- The young crusader had not anticipated this, so she rushes behind the bar, as one of the Tong strikes in and attacks her! ... She takes a few cuts and a few jabs while the bartender who'd been so kind minutes ago merely stands in place. Does not want to be involved. Hey, this IS a Dark Elf bar, his casualness seems to suggest.

Joan tries to evade her attacker's blade, but within no time she's in danger of losing her health. So she casts a spell which instantly replenishes it. -- Yet the fight continues! -- She hadn't worn her armor tonight specifically because she hadn't wanted to brandish her Imperial Guild association, which would instantly cause her to be seen as even more of an outcast here; she had wanted to appear commonplace and ordinary. But now this doesn't seem such a great idea.

Still, she surprises herself, as she dodges and evades, unarmed and unarmored.

"HALT! IN THE NAME OF ALL THAT IS GRACIOUS!" she commands. ... But the fighting continues. It is too much for her. She can't get out from behind the bar!

Finally, she remembers she in fact does have a weapon. She unsheathes her Blade of Justice. Begins swinging and slashing at her opponent. Forces her way past her enemy, past the unconcerned barkeep, rushes out onto the cornerclub's entry floor. Now she is safe to leave the club if she so desires -- but Huleeya is trapped! Still engaged with the other two Tong roustabouts! -- She can't just leave him here.

She moves in. Lures the attackers away, and begins slashing with her knife. Each time her magical blade connects causes her opponents' strength and endurance to fail. As the brawl continues, one of the three ruffians falls to his death!

Eventually Huleeya finds an opening, and is lucky enough to side-step his large, scaly feet toward Joan. Both of them then manage to leave the pub together. Once outside, Joan heals herself grandly, before they both rush (literally run) across the Lower Waistworks plaza, and into Jobasha's Rare Books. Fortunately, none of the Tong attackers bother to follow. Perhaps they know they'd be in the wrong for doing so.

"Yesss, thank you very much," the Argonian hisses once they are inside the bookstore. "Now, I said I'd tell you about the Nerevarine Cult, so you can report back to Caiusss."

"C-Caius? ... You know Caius Cosades?"

Huleeya ignores her question, but has plenty to say about the cult. Firstly, Ashlanders see the Nerevar in a much different manner than those from Morrowind's Great Houses, the lizard rambles and spews what seems to be the entire history of the matter, his serrated jaw foaming a bit with spittle as he speaks. It's a lot of information. Thankfully, he is able to give her a hand-written summary of most of it. What has not been written, Joan struggles to scribble into her journal.

From what she's able to gather, it's the Ashlanders who believe most fervently in the Nerevar, and what he (or she) could possibly represent. The Ashlanders had been pushed aside over time, sometimes forced deep into dangerous and hostile territory by the Great Houses. And it's the Nerevar who the Ashlanders believe could possibly change this.

"The Temple treats the Nerevarine prophecies as heresy," Huleeva continues. "And the Temple imprisons and executes heretics, unless prevented by Imperial law. But since the Nerevarine Cult is hostile to the Empire, the Empire does not interfere when Temple persecutes the cult."

It's a lot to take in. But as Joan listens closely to the scaly one before her explain and pontificate, she begins to gain some wisdom. Wisdom, on how she can possibly make some sort of difference here. She hopes to speak to a Temple priest the very next day, after all.

Joan realizes she probably hasn't met any Ashlanders by now. But she already senses their plight. Pushed around, and moved aside, all because their beliefs do not coincide with what the Great Houses have become.

This could be just like Gnisis, she concludes, except on a much larger scale.

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

Attacked by the Tong!


I took a bunch of pictures as the Black Shalk Cornerclub fight commenced... or at least I thought I did. I thought I was hitting PrintScreen folks, while also moving controller joysticks around and mashing buttons! But the pic above is the only one which showed in the Screenshots folder! ... Dang.

This post has been edited by Renee: Aug 15 2022, 12:55 AM

[Acadian]

I like how ‘the shy maiden-crusader from Cheydinhal’ chats with locals trying to spread some good cheer. As she discovers, it oft works. And those who don’t appreciate her kind intentions. . . well, jerks will be jerks the worlds over.

A dark Morag Tong bar – what could go wrong here? For those not able to summon a weapon, carrying a dagger when traveling inconspicuously is most prudent it sure was good that Joan had one. Even though she just met her scaled contact, she naturally feels obliged to save his tail while saving herself.

And a productive conversation the two finally have!

[SubRosa]

Lollygaggers? Lollygaggers! No lollygaggin'! (At least that is what the Skyrim guards always say. I think it was the ones from Skyrim.)

"We're watching you... scum!" warns an ordinator.
They say that to everyone!

Uh oh, looks like a ill-tempered Tong swit, in need of a swat.

Well, Joanie tried playing nice. But some people you cannot be nice to. It is the paradox of tolerance.

Joan acquits herself well, at least well enough to get Huleeya away safe and sound. Good thing she knows those healing spells.

But in the end she gets the goods from the Argonian, and learns something new about Morrowind and its people.

[WellTemperedClavier]

I know I've mentioned this before, but I still love how you showcase the sheer oddness of the game's interactions. The way that Joan charms the xenophobic Dark Elf is a great example. From hostility to "Goodness, what can I say?" in a few well-chosen words.

Plus, it's fun to see how she rationalizes the odd events around her. The tong thugs can't follow her because Morrowind doesn't let NPCs go from one cell to another, even in pursuit, but in her mind, it's because they know it's too risky. There's a whole other layer to this story if you're familiar with the game's mechanics.

"I welcome you as the friend of my friend, Joan of Cheydinhal," the lizard greets, surprising her. How does Huleeya have knowledge of my name AND from where I hail?

Because he knows the magic word of "%PCName"!

[Lopov]

I laughed each time that you mentioned the immobile barkeep.

Quite a tense story, I already forgot that we get attacked by thugs during this quest.

[Renee]

Hey it's good to see all these stories here at Chorrol. These times are golden, right?

Well illl keep it breif .... I'll keep it brief.


@Lopov-- It was very tense! In fact the scene in the Cornerclub reminds me of the scene you made for Vicious's game. I had to react quickly in both situations. I would say Joan's experience was edgier, mostly because she had to wait for Huleeya.

Which actually was unnecessary. All she had to do was leave the club, and the filthy lizard would follow her. But I didn't know this at the time!


@WellTemperedClavier -- Some of the conversations in my stories are definitely odd, especially from your point of view as a newcomer. 🎆Because sometimes I'll literally write what they say, along with what my character says. This has been a long-standing habit which began when making Oblivion stories years ago. And as you may know, they've got some really bizarre conversations in that game!

Plus, it's fun to see how she rationalizes the odd events around her. The tong thugs can't follow her because Morrowind doesn't let NPCs go from one cell to another, even in pursuit, but in her mind, it's because they know it's too risky. There's a whole other layer to this story if you're familiar with the game's mechanics.

Exactly what I was saying up above. Skyrim is similar to Morrowind: in both games it's rare an NPC can follow us into another cell. But we didn't know this at the time. In a way, it's better that we didn't know. Made the story more dicey!


@Acadian -- Yes, as I've said, I love the way Speech works in this game! ... It's like an addiction for me, trying to get NPCs to like my character one at a time. Whenever I game with one of my other MW characters (both who are nefarious, and don't care if others like them), I find myself missing this feature.

Most times, my people are in the habit of carrying at least one weapon, usually a small one, as they go into more civilized places. Just in case! ... But I actually forgot Joan had her blade for a few seconds.


@SubRosa- -- It's so awesome when they say "We're watching you... scum!" ... I think that was the first time an Ordinator said that to my goody toon. I was sort of surprised. Hey! She's not going to do anything wrong!

Yes, in the end she got was Caius wants from the lizard. Joan also is getting pretty intrigued about this as well.

This post has been edited by Renee: Aug 20 2022, 04:02 PM

[Renee]

Chapter XXXI -- Mehra Milo

17 Sun's Dusk (Day 94)

Location: Vivec, Foreign Quarter, Fighters Guild


As she begins this day, Joan is noticeably less cheerful, definitely less optimistic. Being attacked in public, amongst a roomful of city-dwelling roustabouts, but then having nobody come to your aid once you've escaped and gathered your wits can do that to a person. What'd happened was no common barroom brawl, no, it was a fight to the death, right in the middle of a city teeming with thousands.

And it happened here, in the Foreign District, somewhere below her feet.

She cannot get over this. If yesterday's incident at the Black Shalk had occurred down in Cyrodiil, her assailants would've been confronted by the law in no time. Arrested, possibly thrown in jail, possibly beaten by guards until dead or unconscious. She'd seen this first-hand, outside of Cheydinhal's Newlands Lodge. Any bit of a ruckus which became physical, and into the tavern those townie guards went. Didn't matter if Newlands was a dark elf bar or not, there was simply no fooling around when it came to assaults and fighting.

At times, it was uncanny how quickly those guards would react; it was as if they somehow knew.

Well, Joan of Cyrodiil is certainly longer in Cyrodiil. From now on, it'd be eyes wide open, with a guarded mind and shielded heart, at least while she's here in Vivec. Caius's assignment was supposed to be a mundane trip to gather information, or so she'd assumed. It wasn't supposed be dangerous (or so she'd assumed).

"Speak traveller!"

As she awakes on Sun's Dusk 17 and begins planning her day, she scoffs the idea of going shoeless. Maybe in some small village this might be okay, and they'd adored her 'show of humility' up in Gnisis. But after what happened yesterday in the Cornerclub, her views of the big, complicated city of Vivec have changed. This is her second visit the city so far. One thing is true: nobody cares much about an Outlander, dressed down like a commoner, asking questions about sensitive subjects.

"Thankfully, I sha'n't be traipsing toward the Black Shalk today..."

Her next subject to interview is Mehra Milo, a priestess of Vivec's Hall of Wisdom. Joan is to head south to the Temple Compound, where Mehra dwells.

She thinks of bringing her guard along, but after re-reading the note Caius'd given her, she decides against this. Apparently, speaking too much about Mehra in public is not recommended, lest she attract the wrong sort of attention. It would make even less sense if Joan showed with what could appear as an extra show of force, one which is out-of-place deep in Dunmer territory.

So ... no guard. Which means extra prayers to Dibella and Julianos, of course. She also makes a trip to the smith across from the guild. Here she buys herself a cuirass made of glued-together insect exoskeletons called 'chitin', which is a native material commonly worn here in Morrowind.

"I shall still appear as an Outlander, this I cannot deny."

But it's better than appearing as an Imperial-sponsored lackey. Or so she hopes.


Mid-Morning

"I can see by your outfit that your affairs have prospered," a Dunmer resident tells Joan as she makes her way through the canton of Redoran. The elf is dressed in dark clothes, and has an air of quiescence about him.

"Many thanks, squire." Seems her choice of apparel was a good thing. "And how fares thee on this blustery day?"

"Have you heard about the new secret cult, the Sixth House?" the resident then asks, rather bluntly.

"By glory, it is by chance that I certainly have."

Now this is odd. Huleeya the Morag Tong Argonian couldn't tell her anything about the Sixth House, yet here she was being offered information from a random town-goer. How could this be? -- Though it's broad daylight and other Vivec residents were around and about, Joan cannot help but feel as if she's suddenly being watched.

"They say they sit around in caves, cutting off pieces of their own flesh and eatin' it! It's that corprus disease," says the Dunmer. "Makes the flesh grow wild and crazy. Cut a piece off, and another piece grows back, bigger and better. Guards say, 'We're looking into it.' ... Right. That makes me feel better."

"Well. That should cause a prospective apprentice to think twice about signing for enrollment," the Cheydinhalian jokes.

"Safe travels, sera." The elf wearing dark clothes walks away.

Strange.


Mid-day
Vivec's Tribunal Temple Compound is an exceptionally-bizarre place to visit for a first-timer from Cyrodiil. It's got an open-air plateau, statues of figures she cannot identify, and a particular 'feel' which causes her to stop and wonder. Oddest of all, an entire portion of what seems to be the temple floats high above the plaza! Joan Marie of Cheydinhal finds herself awed. She's got her Nine, and has no desire to begin revering the gods worshipped by the Dunmer. But look at what their set of beliefs have inspired!

She locates the Hall of Wisdom, which is an intricate maze-like dwelling beneath the High Fane. Luckily, Joan the incidental Blade is able to locate Mehra Milo quickly, after getting a tip that she resides within the temple's library.

"Yes I'm Mehra Milo," says the priestess quietly. Mehra wears a thick green robe, perhaps to fend off the chill within the room. "Caius sent you?"

Joan Marie answers with a nod.

"We can't talk here," the dark elf priestess whispers. "Come with me, back to the library."

Joan follows Milo into the library's main reading room, which is full of pleasant smells of parchments and bindings. The pair walks between two shelves packed with books and tomes. As Joan walks in front of Milo, then turns to face her, she notices an Ordinator has followed them both. Is this coincidence?

Eyes wide open, with a guarded mind and shielded heart.

"Go ahead," the priestess begins. She picks up a book from the shelf, which seems an effort to appear nonchalant. "I'm afraid I don't know anything about a Sixth House, but I can tell you about the Nerevarine Cult."

According to Milo, the Temple does recognize the Nerevar as some sort of saint and hero, but does not believe that such a person shall ever return. This contradicts the thinkings of the Ashlanders, of course. "The Nerevarine Cult claims the Tribunal are false gods, hence the Temple's persecution of the cult," she informs.

But there is a group within the Temple called the Dissident Priests, who dispute the Temple's doctrine on this matter. Unfortunately, being a Dissident Priest means breaking Temple rules. To be discovered as a dissident within Vivec means to be arrested, imprisoned, possibly executed!

Mehra Milo suggests Joan finds a book called 'Progress of Truth', reads it, and gives this book to Caius Cosades. There's a copy somewhere here in the Temple Compound, but the book has been outlawed by the Tribune. "And I fear I'm being watched by Ordinators," she says nervously.

"You are, actually," Joan says quietly, pretending to gaze through one of the torrid Barenziah editions. "There is one, standing nearby."

"A safer plan would be to search local booksellers," the priestess suggests. "Some booksellers ignore Temple bans on outlawed books, for profit, or for principles."

Joan Marie quietly makes note of this. As the pair of whisperers break conversation, she makes sure to ready a healing spell in her mind, just in case.

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

Vivec Sunrise

Joan in Chitin

Mehra Milo

Vivec Sunset

Notes: I added a bunch of generic Vivec Residents into the outdoor portions of several cantons, just so there's more NPCs walking around, and the place is beginning to feel more like a city. Oddly, it was one of these random towngoers who was able to tell Joan about the Sixth House.

[SubRosa]

Nice nod to the telephathic abilities of the guards in Oblivion.

I love that the random NPC is a better source of information than some of the regular ones that are part of the quest!

Looks like it might be time to head over to Jobasha's Rare Books, back in the Foreign Quarter.