Outlanders (Morrowind Crossover) Options

[SubRosa]

Uh oh, Daria is having a panic attack stemming from the violence that was done to her courtesy of Synda.

doh, more later.

Edit: More

Daria's quite natural fear is crippling her. Given the assault upon her no surprise. It looks like her long-hidden ideals are pricking up to fight back. But not quite enough to give her the resolution to act. The question is of course, what can they do? Shy of hiring an assassin to murder Synda of course.

It was nice to see a dint of doubt in the impenetrable edifice of Synda's Dark Lord status that Daria has built up in her mind, with the revelation that she might indeed be connected with the Tong after all. But sadly not enough to tip the balance in the favor of her acting. At least not yet.

I see Quinn is working some things out in her own head. I wonder if she will do some detective work on Synda and her family's actual position and connections?

You know, Treads-on-Fern might not be popular... yet. The Fashion Club might need a new member...

I see great minds think alike. Way to go Quinn. Get that girl on the squad.

I do appreciate the Seasonal structure to your story telling. You can use long-term stories like this in what I liken to a television show's seasons. In this case it sounds like each of your seasons is like one act in a 3 Act play: Season One - the introduction to the setting and character. Season Two - throw in some conflict that upsets the status quo, and forces our protagonist to change and adapt. Then Season Three, the payoff, where we get a conclusion to our storyline(s).

[WellTemperedClavier]

I remembered that I'd created some stats for Daria if she were a Morrowind character, and thought I'd share them here.

I used the Savant NPC class as a guideline, since a few of the early stories do mention that Daria's training for this position. These don't really match Daria all that well (hard to imagine her picking locks or doing anything acrobatic). Since we're dealing with literature rather than gaming, I can be more expansive with the skills she has. For major skills, I swapped out Alchemy, Unarmored, and Athletics for Writing, Research, and Alteration (she's quite unpracticed, but we'll assume that's the school she knows slightly better). Minor, I took out Security, Block, and Acrobatics, replacing them with Restoration, Destruction, and Law.

Major Skills
- Speechcraft (while she's not the most social, she is quite witty)
- Writing
- Research
- Alteration
- Mercantile (side-effect of navigating Balmora's markets)

Minor Skills
- Restoration
- Destruction
- Short Blade (her dad did give her some training)
- Law (thanks to her mom)
- Sneak

Obviously not optimized for the game, but works well enough for the story. As for stats, she's an Imperial, but I wanted to adjust the base stats to better fit her. Thus, I boosted her intelligence and willpower by ten each, but lowered her personality by 10, and her agility by a whopping 20.

Strength: 40
Intelligence: 50
Willpower: 50
Agility: 20 (agility includes one's ability to hit things, and her poor vision is a serious impediment)
Speed: 30
Endurance: 40
Personality: 40
Luck: 40

As an Imperial, she does get a natural Speechcraft/Mercantile bonus, so that helps offset the below-average personality score. She'd also have the Voice of the Emperor power, though I don't necessarily translate racial abilities literally in the story.

[WellTemperedClavier]

Episode 14: Raiders of the Lost Arkngthand

Chapter 1

Ash-tainted rain poured down from a sky the color of rust as Daria marched uphill, weighed down by her drenched green cloak and her pack. Thunder pealed in the distance, booming across the jagged hills and blackened gullies that stretched all the way to the horizon.

"Keep going!" the driver called out to his pack-guars. The two beasts groaned in response and pulled forward, the overstuffed wagon trailing behind them.

Soaked to the bone and exhausted, Daria was starting to wonder if they'd make it before nightfall. The path had turned steep and rugged right after they'd passed Moonmoth Legion Fort, and the torrential rains rendered the stone slick and treacherous. Jane, who walked next to her, managed it only slightly better.

"Remind me to never again put in this much effort toward an unpaid internship," Daria said.

"Hey, the Imperial Archaeological Society is all about roughing it. They probably arranged this storm with, uh, Arkay."

"Kynareth's our nature god, not Arkay," Daria corrected. "But your point stands: I suppose it only makes sense for quid pro quo to be an animating principle for the Imperial pantheon."

"See, it's all part of the system." She chuckled and rubbed her hands together as thunder cracked yet again. "The system that's actually paying me!"

"Rub it in."

It was Jolda's doing, more or less. Her father, Armand, had gotten permission from the Imperial Archeological Society to do a dig at Arkngthand, the ruined Dwemer city just a day's travel away from Balmora. He'd already been up there for a month and had sent word that he needed more help. The less he had to pay for said help, the better.

"Dad was impressed with how you handled that speech this summer," Jolda had said. "I'm headed up there to help out for a week, and if you come along, he'll register it as participation with the IAS."

Sounded more interesting than Drenlyn Academy, at any rate. And when Daria had learned that Armand was also offering a paid position for an artist, it had only made sense to tell Jane about the opportunity. Jolda hadn't known exactly what Jane would be doing, but she'd guessed sketches of Dwemer machinery. Something better than grunt work, at any rate.

Said grunt work would be done by three more of Drenlyn's best and brightest: Jonus, Julien, and Jeval, who tramped forward on the other side of the wagon. That the IAS accepted them at all gave Daria serious reservations about the organization as a whole.

"How are you two doing?" Jolda asked, coming over from the side of the wagon where she'd been walking.

Daria took off her glasses and tried to clean the rain-spattered lenses with her sleeve. "Let's see: I'm cold, soaked, and I'm pretty sure I'm getting a blister on my foot. But given that the alternative is listening to Sera Ondryn talk about how we outlanders can fit in as long as we believe in ourselves, I'll count myself fortunate."

Jolda laughed. "We'll be at the bridge pretty soon. Arkngthand is just beyond that."

"Right, Arkngthand," Jane said. "These Dwemer weren't too big on vowels, were they."

"Everyone knows the cool kids only use consonants," Daria said.

"Don't you mean 'vrn nz th klkds nlz cnsntz'?" Jane said.

"I'm not willing to sacrifice my tongue and vocal cords to meet some arbitrary definition of cool." Giving up on getting the lenses clean, Daria put her glasses back on and pulled her cloak's hood forward.

"We're still working on translating Dwemeris," Jolda said. "No one's spoken it for thousands of years. My dad thinks that the vowels were implied rather than written out, but that doesn't explain why they were written out on some occasions."

"Would I be doing any of the translation work?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure exactly what my dad needs from you. It'll mostly be administrative, I think."

Daria knew more than most about the Dwemer, which still meant she knew almost nothing. The ancient race had ruled a great empire from their subterranean, steam-powered citadels, one that had once covered much of Morrowind and eastern Skyrim and even boasted a few colonies in far-off Hammerfell. The Dwemer shunned visitors and lived among machines, boasting knowledge that surpassed any other civilization in history. Intelligent, isolationist, and idiosyncratic; Daria had always rather liked them.

But they'd all vanished without a trace around 2,500 years ago.

The ground finally leveled off, and Daria saw the bridge. She'd been expecting something like the stone bridges of Cyrodiil, but on a bigger scale. What she saw was a monstrous construction made entirely out of what looked like aged bronze, half a mile long and wide enough for three big carts to pass side-by-side. Enormous support piers plunged into the living rock of the canyon below. Though age had left its mark, the bridge's surface splotched and scarred with tarnish, it still stood in defiance of nature.

How could anyone, no matter how advanced, have enough metal to create something so large?

Railings ran along both sides of the bridge, resembling enormous pipes. Spidery script had been engraved all along their lengths, the letters cramped together with barely any space between them. She wondered what about railings was interesting enough to justify so much text. Beyond the bridge, the skewed towers of Arkngthand jutted needlelike into the soiled skies.

The wagon driver was already moving across, as was Jolda. Curious, Daria reached out and touched the railing, its surface rough and surprisingly warm beneath her fingers. It didn't feel quite like bronze. Far below the bridge, furious ashen waters stormed the Foyada Mamea. It hadn't been that long ago since she'd hiked down that same foyada to Pelagiad with Jane and Trent.

"Hey, Jane. Did you know that the Foyada Mamea is prone to flash flooding?"

"Yeah, it is," Jane said, taking a look at the rushing torrent. "It hardly ever rains this high up though."

"I'm sure that rarity is of great comfort to anybody using the foyada today."

Daria supposed it never hurt to have another reminder that Morrowind—Vvardenfell in particular—remained a dangerous place, the countryside as much as the city. And that probably went double for Dwemer ruins, like the one she'd soon be exploring.

Jolda had told her that a legion team had already destroyed the clanking Dwemer animunculi roaming Arkngthand's upper halls, and that the place would be safe so long as she didn't go beyond the dig site boundaries. It had taken her parents a bit more convincing, but they'd finally given in. Sure, there was some risk to Daria's physical well-being, but that was a small matter compared to the risk of her giving up another networking opportunity. A pretty damn good one, all things considered.

She'd been eager to go in spite of all that. Dying to some ancient Dwemer trap was at least a relatively novel means of death.

The storm still raged when they reached the other side, as desolate and stony as the first. They struggled uphill as rain and the encroaching night blackened the world, their way lit only by the sooty glow of their lanterns. The pack guars groaned as they hauled the creaking wagon uphill, wheels and clawed feet alike straining to gain traction on the slippery rock.

Daria was shivering under her cloak by the time she spotted other lanterns in the distance. Their dim glow soon revealed the contours of pavilions bearing the Empire's red diamond. She'd made it.

Musical Closer - Rox in the Box, by The Decemberists

This post has been edited by WellTemperedClavier: Nov 29 2024, 08:09 AM

[Acadian]

Fabulous scene setting as you pull us right into the muddy, dreary and exhausting trek by mer, humans, guar and wagon up to Arkngthand. This promises to certainly be an interesting venue with different hazards than those of the urban Balmora.

I enjoyed the banter between Jane and Daria, especially their vowel joking.

’The Dwemer shunned visitors and lived among machines, boasting knowledge that surpassed any other civilization in history. Intelligent, isolationist, and idiosyncratic; Daria had always rather liked them.’

[SubRosa]

So Daria is doing another unpaid internship, this time for the Arkaylogical Society?

At least Jane is getting paid. In one of my Archaeology podcasts they had an entire episode on the importance of art in documenting finds. They do a lot of photography of course, but in some ways artwork is better, as it can emphasis tiny details that a picture might not show very well. Plus you still have to make sketches of where things lay in situ, to show their relation to one another over all. Who knows, Jane could have a long and illustrious career as an archaeologist. I doubt it. But she could.

The 3 Stooges are bringing up the rear! perfect.

Intelligent, isolationist, and idiosyncratic; Daria had always rather liked them.
I smiled at this.

As I understand it, the leading cause of death in the Sahara is drowning, from flash floods that fill the wadis and kill anyone in them.

I wonder if Maiko was one of the legionaries sent to clear out the Dwemer Bots beforehand?

As ever, I love Daria's dry sarcasm as she muses over death by dwemer trap at least being an interesting statistic. And of course her easy banter with Jane is always a treat to hear. That was always one of my favorite things in the show. I always wished that I could be as cool and clever as the two of them.

[Renee]

I'm a stat-lover myself (really hate what they did with Skyrim, for instance). You'd need a mod to add Research, Writing and so on. But indeed, the numbers which are in-game such as Speechcraft and Mercantile certainly fit. Thing is, there aren't enough stats & skills for a Daria character, not without a mod.

I could totally see Sneak being a good one for her, but as a Minor. She doesn't use it all the time.

Speaking of, wow, Daria's working for the Archaeological Guild. Oh crap, they're going to Arkngthand???* Dangerous.... Why are they going there? I'm not seeing a reason in last week's story.



*(I know how to spell the name of that Dwemer ruin well; I wrote Arkngthand probably 4 dozen times when Joan went there!)



This post has been edited by Renee: Oct 11 2022, 08:41 PM

[SubRosa]

What is long and hard that a Dwemer bride gets on their wedding night?

[Renee]

A golden rod? A Dwarven tube?

Ah gosh, you tricked me!

[Acadian]

Doubtless, one with no consonants. . . .

Edit: *Slaps forehead* Err, I meant to say vowels. . . .

This post has been edited by Acadian: Oct 12 2022, 08:13 PM

[WellTemperedClavier]

Chapter 2

Daria awoke the next morning and instantly wished she hadn't. Every joint in her body ached, and her weary brain begged her to close her eyes and go back to sleep for a year or so. Nonetheless, she slowly worked her way out of the sleeping bag as the dawn drums rumbled across the camp. She exited the tent and stepped into the morning air, crisp and cold from the previous day's storm. At last, she got a good look at the Arkngthand dig site.

A dozen or so tents squatted on the rocky slope, the ground black and barren save for a few spiky trama roots that clung to life with pernicious determination. Around the tents, ancient metal spires rose directly from the stone. The lack of foundations told Daria that they were probably connected to deeper underground structures. Some of the towers resembled unadorned poles or chimneys, while others were crowned by narrow spikes or dented turrets. Skinny and crooked pipes formed a sprawling metallic web that spread between spires and across the grounds, some of the strands running through the living rock.

At the summit stood a titanic statue of what she assumed was a bearded Dwemer warrior. Time had worn down the statue's delicate Mer features, but the halberd in its hand still looked sharp.

"Hey, Daria," came a voice.

It was Maiko; his legion armor already burnished to a sheen.

"Oh, hi. Didn't know you were here," Daria said.

"I got here a few days ago. Talked Varro into letting me be an observer; figured it'd be good practice for my liaison work."

Daria raised her eyebrows. "Not to mention good practice for seeing Jolda."

Maiko half-laughed, half-grunted in response. "I guess we're not good at keeping that a secret, but uh, try not to advertise," he said. "Anyway, Armand's going to give you guys a quick orientation speech after breakfast. The mess tent's over there." He pointed to a beige pavilion next to a squat, cylindrical tower with a disc-like top.

"Good, an orientation speech is just what I need to get some extra sleep."

"You better listen to him, Daria. Arkeng… Arkneng…" he trailed off. "This place is safe as far as we know, but you can't be too careful with Dwemer stuff."

"Wait, were you part of the team that cleared it?"

"No, but I talked to the guys who did. They didn't run into anything too dangerous, but they only cleared the upper galleries. Listen to what Armand tells you."

"Noted."

Daria and the rest of the Drenlyn students gathered at the mess tent for bowls of watery saltrice porridge and tin cups filled with some kind of bitter tea.

"Pretty sure it's trama root tea, but they didn't grind it very carefully. Make sure yours doesn't have any stray thorns floating around," Jane said, seated cross-legged on a rug.

"Tastes more like old bathwater. Speaking of which, do you know if there are any bathing facilities here?" The other day's dirt and grime clung to Daria like a noxious second skin, one that she very much wanted to peel off.

"Jolda said there was a hot spring in a cave near the campsite."

Daria blushed. "Please tell me it's not coed."

Jane waved her hand. "Come on, Daria, the IAS is run by Colovian Imperials like you, the only people more puritannical than us Dunmer. Guys get one day, girls get the other. But I think today's the guys' day."

"I guess that means I get to enjoy more quality time with the dirt I picked up on the way here."

"And your mom says you never network!"

"That's the only reason anyone does anything."

"Uh oh, bad news," Jane uttered. She pointed to the side, and Daria followed her finger to the loathsome sight of Karl the Unctuous. His clothes were dirt-stained, but his noxious grin shone as bright as ever.

"I was wondering why I hadn't seen him for a week. I guess him being transferred to another province was too much to hope for."

"Think they'll use him to test for booby traps?" Jane asked.

"No way we're that lucky. He probably has some cushy job with lots of networking."

With his connections, he probably did.

Armand strode into the tent, Jolda following close behind.

"Attention, new arrivals!" Armand bellowed as he took a stand at the mess tent's entrance. "Welcome to Arkngthand!"

He sure sounded confident about his pronunciation.

"Now, what you need to remember is that this is an official mission of the Imperial Archeological Society. That means you are working for Emperor Uriel Septim VII himself, and you are expected to act as the upstanding citizens you're supposed to be."

"They don't come much more upstanding than Karl," Daria muttered.

Armand continued. "In addition to the standard laws, there are also some specific rules for the dig site. First," he said, raising his right thumb, "trafficking in Dwemer artifacts is strictly prohibited. Nothing you find here leaves the site unless it's with the approval of the IAS, which here means my approval. Heavy fines will be levied on anyone breaking this rule, and more serious penalties will come into play if anyone tries to steal working Dwemer machinery or schematics.

"Second," he went on, raising his index finger, "be careful when you're in Arkngthand. Go down there, and you'll see big yellow Xs painted on some of the walls. Those mark the limit of how far the legion exploratory team went. When you see an X, that means you don't go any further. Up above, don't go beyond sight of the tents. Molag Amur is not a safe place to wander around in.

"Third," he said, raising one more, "obey your supervisors."

He let his arms drop and then smiled. "With that said, let me welcome you to one of the most exciting projects the IAS has in Morrowind today. We're happy to bring in volunteers from the student body of Drenlyn Academy, an institution showcasing the cooperation between the Empire and Great House Hlaalu."

Daria wondered if Armand reciting that was one of Director Lli's requirements for permitting the volunteer program.

"Anyway, let's not waste time! You three," Armand said, pointing to Jonus, Julien, and Jeval, "will be down below."

"Sweet!" Jonus said. He and his friends exchanging high fives.

"Sweet indeed!" Armand proclaimed. "You'll be dusting the artifacts we find."

"Wait, dusting?" Julien asked. "Like a maid?"

"Like a maid working for the Empire itself!" Armand thrust a fist in the air for emphasis.

"Aw, man," Jeval mourned.

"Head over there to the gate!" Armand pointed to what looked like a bronze sphere partially embedded into the rock, some ways off. Armand turned to Jane. "Are you the artist?"

"Yeah. I brought my equipment with me, so I'm ready to go down below when you give the word."

"Oh, you won't need to!"

Jane looked surprised. "I won't?"

"We already have sketch artists drawing up the schematics and artifacts. No, the IAS has a much more important job for you. We need heroic-style three-quarters portraits of all the IAS supervisors so we can be a known quantity in the capital. The more people see our image, the more funding the IAS will get."

The flicker of disappointment on Jane's face was so brief that Daria almost thought she'd imagined it. Jane nodded. "Sure thing! I'm the woman for the job. Who do I paint first?"

"Supervisor K'shath. He's over in that green tent. You'll have to do two other portraits, so work fast. And Daria? You'll be helping Karl out with the paperwork."

Paperwork with Karl the Unctuous. This was going to be a long internship.

Karl grinned and gave a florid bow. "Ah, what a fortuitous development! To work alongside the stunning Lady Morgendorffer, whose wit is exceeded only by her beauty. Who knows what scandalous adventures might transpire between the two of us?"

"Said adventures, Karl, will most likely involve severe and repeated testicular injury," Daria said.

Karl chuckled, but his eyes stayed watchful. Daria's skin crawled at the mere sight of him. Bravado aside, she didn't want to have to dodge his harassment.

With positions assigned, the Drenlyn attendees spread through the camp to start work.

"With any luck, I'll be able to wrangle a few lasting clients out of this," Jane said as she toted her art supplies.

"Sorry that you won't get the chance to sketch Dwemer artifacts," Daria said.

"Ah, it's all right. Sketching gears isn't as profitable as flattering rich people with art."

"Hey, Daria?" Jolda said, stepping up to her. "Let me know if Karl gives you any trouble. I'll tell my dad, and he'll listen to me about this. I hear that Karl's dad is fed up with him, so he needs to be on his best behavior."

Daria relaxed a bit. "I'm pretty sure I can handle him."

"Nah, don't handle him," Jane said. "He might like that."

"But thanks all the same," Daria continued. "I don't suppose you can ask your dad to let me do something other than bureaucratic busywork?"

"Sorry." Jolda forced a smile. "It is important work. And it'll look good on your resume!"

"It better."

*********

Jonus, Julien, and Jeval got up and stretched. Sucked that they had to start working so soon. Jeval still ached from walking all day yesterday.

"Guys!" Jonus said. "I just had a great idea. This ruin's full of old treasures and stuff, right?"

"Uh huh," Julien agreed. Jeval nodded.

"That means we can nab something for Quinn! Not the kind of junk you get at the market, but something really valuable!" Jonus kept his voice quiet but looked like he was ready to run into Arkngthand and loot it on his own.

"Hey, yeah! There's gotta be like, crowns and jewels and stuff. Oh man, Quinn's totally going to be into that."

Jeval shook his head. "Guys, didn't you hear what Armand said? We'll get fined if we take anything."

Jonus scoffed. "Whatever, man. Everyone does it!"

"Yeah," Julien said, "my dad has like this big old Dwemer gear or whatever, and it just sits on his desk. We'll only get in trouble if we steal working machines or something, and Quinn wouldn't want mechanical stuff anyway."

"Come on!" Jeval protested. "I don't want to pay a fine!"

"You won't," Jonus said. "And you come on, this is for Quinn! The most beautiful girl in Morrowind!"

"The most beautiful girl in Tamriel!" Julien followed.

"The most beautiful girl in Nirn," Jeval said out of habit before skidding to a verbal halt. "Wait! Guys, she's not into us! We've been trying to get her for almost a year. Might as well ask some other chicks."

"No, man. You can't give up! No girl's gonna say no to some bigass Dwemer jewel! So here's how it works: we watch each other's backs, but we each have to find our own thing," Jonus said, leaning in close to whisper his plan.

"Every man for himself, that's fair," Julien said with a nod.

"I need to find new friends," Jeval muttered.

Musical Closer - Number One (Disappearer), by Sonic Youth

This post has been edited by WellTemperedClavier: Nov 29 2024, 08:11 AM

[Acadian]

Poor Daria wakes up with the residual effects of her trek to the site. And to a yummy breakfast (not!) and no bath for the day.

Jane is spot on, I think. Portraits will further her reputation more than technical drawings of any sort.

Daria gets stuck with Karl.

Jonus, Julien and Jeval hatch another plan to capture Quinn’s heart. I’m sure nothing will go wrong and it will work flawlessly. . . .

[Renee]

I agree with Maiko. Good lord those ruins are creepy. And the whole exterior area above Arkngthand gives me shivers.

Then again, this is the year 425 in your story, right? So maybe the place hasn't been taken over by bandits, yet. Plus, there's a lot of folks gathered up at the site. So ... safety in numbers.

I like how you consider bathing, Clavier! Some of these folks like taking baths, look forward to them, ask where they can bathe if they're in a strange place.

They've marked off safe areas, nice. I still feel like something's about to go wrong! 🎃 Ha ha yup, something is. These boys are being a group of fools. Quinn must be quite the doll (or something) for them to go through so much plotting.

[SubRosa]

I recently saw an old National Geographic special about Frederick Catherwood and his explorations and artwork. Talk about synergy!

There is Maiko! Hopefully he gets some practice in at liasoning with Jolda...

Ugh, the only bathing facilities are on a day by day basis. Well, it could be a lot worse though. At least Daria gets to network with her dirt.

Welcome to archaeology. Try not to die.

I laughed when I found out why they wanted Jane. A PR stunt! You really captured the satirical cynicism of the TV show with that.

Ugh again. Daria is stuck pushing papers with Upchuck!

The Three Stooges are up to hijinks! I am sure hilarity is bound to ensue when they plumb the depths of Arken...something or another.

[WellTemperedClavier]

Chapter 3

The administration tent looked exactly as dull as Daria had expected. Its big gray canvas top sheltered a pair of tables and a desk set, all covered with parchments, inkwells, and record books. Karl strode about the place like a king attending court.

"And now I present you with the nerve center of our humble dig site! This is where we do the scrivening that makes possible all the labors performed deep beneath our feet, in the ancient bronze bowels of—"

"Karl, just tell me what kind of work I'm supposed to do," Daria said.

His face fell. "You never let me have any fun. Very well, you need to take these," Karl said, pointing at a stack of slates on the nearest table, "and go to that big blue pavilion over there. That's where we keep all the goodies we grabbed last week. Now, Lady Morgendorffer, you'll get to tally up all the findings!"

Daria took the top slate. It had already been divided into columns listing types of artifacts, crossed with rows displaying odd names like "Hall of Centrifuge" or "Cells of Hollow Hand".

"What are these?" she asked, pointing at the names.

"A few of the marvelous locales within Arkngthand proper," Karl answered. "Rather poetic, are they not? The very sounds of those names conjure up a sense of mystery and magic. You know, I could be persuaded to reveal some of these mysteries—"

"No mystery you reveal will ever be worth the effort."

"Rowr, feisty! Report to Acullus over there when you're finished," he said, grinning and pointing with his thumb to a bald Imperial who sorted through papers on the other side of the tent.

Daria looked through the rest of the slates as she walked to the blue pavilion. The next slate was similar, but with what she guessed were the names of archeologists instead of locations. Finally, the third contained a preliminary count of the various artifacts. More work for Daria Morgendorffer, the human abacus.

All thoughts of her ignominious task fell away when she stepped inside the tent and found herself staring face-to-face with a man made of bronze.

Not a man, she corrected, still trying to take it all in. More like an approximation of one: the head an oblong wedge with an eye of glass on the left side; a chest made of interlocking segments; the arms multi-jointed metal rods held together by thick screws, one ending in a shield and the other terminating in what looked like a bladed flower. A massive and dented sphere took the spot where legs would have normally been.

This was a Dwemer animunculus, still more or less in one piece. Thousands of them, maybe millions, had once rolled and scurried through the echoing corridors to do the biddings of their masters. As the animunculi worked, the Dwemer dreamed in their steam gardens and forged palaces.

Breath caught in her throat as she went in for a closer look, not daring to make a sound. Gouges on the sphere and chest, and the big impact dent in the back, showed the work of the legion's weapons. But how could she be sure it was inert? How did one truly kill a creature of cogs and gears? More importantly, how did one give it life in the first place? The Empire had ruled a continent and its myriad peoples for centuries. But all its greatest minds put together could not make a single animunculus, much less the clockwork multitudes that had once served the Dwemer.

Daria shivered, suddenly feeling quite small.

Remembering that she had a job to do, she took stock of the rest of the tent. Gears, coins, glittering jewels, goblets, and smaller spider-like animunculi had been gathered up in groups according to the location in which they'd been found. A closer look showed that each artifact had been marked with a pigment. A slate board pinned to a post showed which color was associated with which archeologist.

A tedious task. But not a difficult one.

Hours blurred together as Daria tallied up each item, no matter how insignificant. It was the kind of job she could do as automatically as breathing, all the while speculating as to what the Dwemer might have been like. But dim lighting and detail work took their toll. Daria's headache started as a faint pain at around noon and grew into a splitting agony by sundown. The archeologists hadn't sorted the artifacts all that neatly, so she often had to lift heavy gears and scrap to make sure there weren't smaller gears and scraps beneath them. Easy to lose count in such a job, and lose count she did.

But she kept at it. When her numbers failed to match up with the preliminary counts, she looked again and got the same results. Shaking her aching head, Daria stepped outside for a short break and returned to tally the artifacts one more time. She felt like a dozen miners were chipping away at the inside of her skull and the backs of her eyes.

"This better be a good resume booster," she muttered.

One by one, she checked off the various column totals: 424 gears, ranging in size from smaller than her fingertip to as wide as a barrel hoop; 398 broken wires and cables; 301 pieces of unidentifiable scrap metal; 257 sections of broken tube; 144 small tools; 87 coins; 53 crafted items (cups, utensils, necklaces); 19 raw jewels; 7 swords and daggers; 3 spider animunculi, and the 1 sphere animunculus.

Most of it matched. But the preliminary count had 89 coins, 56 crafted items, 24 raw jewels, and 9 swords and daggers.

She was certain she'd counted correctly. At any rate, she was at the end of her rope, so she headed back to the tent and gave her findings to Acullus, his watery eyes marked by clear indifference. She told him about the disrepancies.

"These things happen," he said. "Could be they miscounted some of the items."

"One gear does look a lot like another," Daria said. "Swords would be harder to miss, though."

"Don't worry about it. The IAS only really cares about the animunculi and any surviving Dwemer records or schematics. The Empire's not going to learn anything from another loose cog. Anyhow, you've done well for today. Thank you."

Putting the slates down, Daria let out a long exhalation. She was exhausted and ready to sleep for the next week straight. But tomorrow would only bring more work.

She passed by Karl's desk on the way out. Karl himself chatted with one of the archeologists, his smarm radiating across the tent. Daria noticed a paper sticking out from under a record book, the top reading: "Karl's Magnificent Exports Inc." Keeping her eyes on Karl, Daria lowered her hand and slipped out the paper for a better look, and then stepped away from the desk. She adjusted her glasses, the blurry letters popping into clarity as she did.

It was a client list of rich Imperials and Dunmer (she recognized the Talori family as a buyer). The items listed matched most of the missing ones in her account. The discrepancies finally made sense. They weren't items the IAS would particularly miss, either. But the marked clients would pay Karl handsomely for them.

Daria smiled. Now she had the best blackmail material a girl could want, to be used on the world's most annoying target. She stood by Karl's desk and waited for him to finish, smiling in a way she hoped was enigmatic. When Karl disengaged from the official and saw her, he lit up.

"Ah, do mine eyes deceive me? Or has perhaps the stunning Lady Morgendorffer has taken notice of this young blade's charms?" He waggled his eyebrows.

"Oh, I took notice all right. Nothing gets the girls going quite like misappropriation of assets."

His shoulders tensed and he looked from side to side. "Why, whatever do you mean?"

Daria smiled wider and showed him the incriminating paper. Karl gasped and lunged forward, but she put the paper behind her and stepped back.

Karl gave a nervous chuckle. "Ah, you see, I'm simply helping Armand. He has clients: men in high positions who possess exceedingly discriminating tastes. As a man of taste and culture myself, well, I was the logical choice to decide which of these fine Dwemer objects d'art would be offered as gifts." He leaned in, teeth pressed together in an oily grin.

"Uh huh. So if I take this to Armand, he'll say that 'Karl's Magnificent Exports Inc.' works for him?"

Karl gulped. "Armand's a very busy man. Why don't we save some time—"

He made another attempt to grab it, and Daria danced out of the way. All of dad's old lessons on sword-fighting stances were turning out to be pretty useful.

Sweat glistened on Karl's freckled forehead. "I know you're a lady of refined expectations and ravishing beauty. Perhaps I could see to it that a few choice Dwemer adornments might come to rest on that pretty brow of yours—"

"I don't know. I think it'd be a lot more fun to get you in trouble."

"Come now, Daria. Surely you don't think I'd be so careless as to get into real trouble? Artifact trafficking fines are a trifle to a gentleman of means like myself," he said.

She considered it. Going by what Armand and Acullus had said, only the theft of schematics and machinery was taken all that seriously. Karl, predictably, only embezzled gears and jewels.

"You're right, trafficking fines might not amount to much. But I hear your dad's none too happy with your behavior, and that hits a lot closer to home."

He gulped. She smiled. "How about this?" Daria said. "I'll keep quiet. In return, you stop trying to hit on every girl you see."

He gasped. "Lady Morgendorffer, how could you be so cruel!? The fair maidens of the world demand—nay—require, my amorous attentions!" Karl pressed the back of his hand and looked heavenward in faux dismay.

"Take it or leave it."

Karl shrank like a deflated air bladder. "Fine!"

"I mean it. If I hear anyone complaining about you, I go straight to Armand."

He raised his hands. "I won't bother anyone!"

Daria took the paper, folded it, and put it into her coat. Patting her pocket, she smiled. "I think I'll hold on to this. Never hurts to have some insurance."

There was a spring in her step as she walked across the rubble-strewn fields around Arkngthand. She passed Jolda, who waved her down.

"Hey, Daria! How did it go on your first day?"

"As much as I love complaining, I'd say it went pretty well."

She smiled. "Great! I know the work's kind of boring, but my dad thinks you have a lot of potential. Just don't tell him I told you that."

Potential. Like, say, the potential to participate in covering up an misappropriation scheme for the sake of blackmail.

"Uh, yeah. Thanks," she said, her good mood evaporating in an instant.

Musical Closer - The Job That Ate My Brain, by The Ramones

This post has been edited by WellTemperedClavier: Nov 29 2024, 08:12 AM

[SubRosa]

Feisty!

In spite of all the papework, Daria at least gets to see some cool stuff, like a Dwemer Sphere. With the added bonus that they are *not* trying to kill her.

I am certain that Daria counted correctly. Just as I am certain someone with light fingers might be pilfering the shortfall in the figures. But who could it be?

Ok, its Karl. So now the question is, how can Daria use this to her advantage? Erm, to network?

Awww, Daria takes one for team girl instead, and saves them all from Upchuck's suave and debonair attentions.

[Acadian]

Nice musings on the mysteries surrounding the Dwemer and their curious steampunk devices.

SubRosa was much faster than I on translating Daria’s nonmatching counts into pilfering. I didn’t catch on until she saw Karl’s incriminating parchment. She wasted no time calling his embezzlement and raising it by blackmail. Her price supports a noble cause but at some risk of self-compromise should things go awry.

[Renee]

Okay, 424 not 425. I'll try to remember that year. Oh crap. Is Daria staring at an automaton?

Actually, the earlier date also explain what you're describing in this chapter: all these riches that have been cataloged. Not so much gears and all the heavier stuff, but lighter treasures like gems and jewels and coins. Because in the base game there isn't much to find, treasure-wise, not unless you go really deep. So it makes sense that there once were more treasures, most of which have been taken at some point.

And then we can make the assumption that at least some of the treasure we find in 427 has been brought in by bandits.

Ha, she's busted Karl. Looks like he is trying to set up a smuggling operation? ... Embezzlement. Ha, she's blackmailed the dude. Very nice.🖤



This post has been edited by Renee: Oct 17 2022, 01:46 PM

[WellTemperedClavier]

Chapter 4

It was late afternoon. Daria stood on a rocky promontory in the shadow of a bronze tower, looking out at the ashen desolation spreading for miles to the north and east. Jane sat cross-legged on the ground next to her, drawing the towers of Arkgnthand in her sketchbook with a charcoal stub.

"You're making too big a deal about it. Armand has to know that people lift stuff from these sites all the time. He won't care unless they steal something important, and it doesn't sound like Karl is," Jane said.

"Doesn't it bother you knowing that people like Karl will keep on exploiting the system? He's already rich, but now he's stealing Morrowind's history to get even richer."

Jane was silent for a bit, her eyes intent on the verdigrised towers. "Way I see it, you and him are both pretty rich. I'm a Dunmer anyway; the Dwemer weren't too nice to us, so I don't much care what Karl does with their leftovers."

"You sure seem to like drawing their leftovers."

Jane chuckled. "Once I'm done drawing them, he can take them. No skin off my back. You know, Daria, you're a lot more idealistic than you like to admit."

Daria shook her head. "This isn't idealism. It's me being resentful at seeing someone I despise figure out a way to get ahead by exploiting something I'm interested in."

"You sure there's not just a teensy bit of disappointment in this mean old world of ours?" Jane asked, her voice needling.

"I can't be disappointed when my expectations are already at zero." Daria sighed. "Anyway, if I were an idealist, I'd have marched over to Armand's tent first thing and shown him the evidence."

She still could.

"What's stopping you?"

"I don't know. Maybe the fact that I've already compromised my moral integrity by blackmailing Karl in the first place," Daria admitted.

"So you do care what Armand thinks."

"Whatever his faults, Armand did earn his position. Also, as much as I hate to say it, the IAS is probably a better fit for me than any of the guilds. I always complain about how corrupt Imperial institutions are, and here I am enabling corruption in a relatively honest one. Self-awareness is a real bitch, sometimes."

"Well," Jane said, "speaking as a woman, I'm happy I haven't had to put up with Karl's creepiness for the past few days."

"True. But if I told Armand, I could probably get Karl on that, too." Daria crossed her arms. A cold wind from the south whipped against her coat and through her tangled hair. "Tell me, Jane: why do you think the Empire's so keen on the Dwemer digs?"

"Probably so nobles can have some nice shiny doodads to show off."

"This much effort for doodads?" She tried to imagine the battered animunculus decorating some count's estate. Not too far-fetched, she supposed.

"Why not? Using a weird bronze monster as a garden ornament is way cooler than building a gazebo. It'll be all the talk of the neighbors."

"Speaking of talk," Daria said, "Jolda and her dad invited me to dinner tonight. I'd better get going."

"Honest-to-goodness networking! Your mom would be so proud!"

Daria rolled her eyes. "Don't remind me."

"Think you'll tell them about Karl's little escapades?" Jane straightened up, locking eyes with Daria.

"I'm not sure. Let me see how it looks when I get there."

*********

Dinner at Armand's proved surprisingly elaborate: ornada braised in comberry sauce, served with bowls of spiced cuttle and goblets of red Surilie Brothers wine. Quite a shock to the system after days of saltrice porridge and bad tea. Armand sat lengthwise on a thick rug across from Daria, the campfire flickering between them. Jolda knelt on some pillows next to her father. They'd finished the dinner, and Daria questioned (as politely as she could) why he lived so lavishly.

"I believe it's important for leaders to set a good example," Armand said, gesturing at the wine. "Rewards should go to those who've worked the hardest!"

"Tea and saltrice porridge do seem commensurate for the backbreaking labor of chipping rock all day," Daria said, keeping her tone level and her face impassive.

Jolda narrowed her eyes in warning, but Armand laughed. "Ah, Daria, you remind me of when I was your age: always wanting to change the world. But when you get older and work harder, you'll find you want a bigger share of its gifts."

Daria sipped the wine. Gods, it was good. Tasted of home and the sunbathed vineyards all up and down the Gold Coast. She supposed this made her complicit.

"What happens when there aren't enough gifts left over for the little people?" she asked.

"Oh, they'll manage. Survival's a helluva motivator. But you're not one of the little people, Daria. I'm not saying the work they do isn't important. But almost anyone can do it. Not everyone can do the kinds of work we do, or that your mother does."

"Plus, it is easier to help people when you have power backing you up," Jolda said, her tone slightly apologetic.

Daria decided to change the subject. She wasn't in any position to make a winning point, and a winning point might be hazardous to her future career opportunities.

"Speaking of the work we do, why exactly is the Empire so interested in the Dwemer?"

"I'm sure a young scholar like you understands the importance of learning history. The Dwemer are a part of that."

"Sure, but my interests don't drive the Empire. The only histories most nobles care about are the kinds that give them claims to their neighbor's land," Daria said.

The wind picked up outside of the tent, bitter and blustery. Daria inched closer to the fire.

"I can't deny that aristocrats can be petty," Armand agreed. "But there are deeper reasons for the Empire as a whole to be interested. The Dwemer had power. The machines they built survived for millennia, even when the Dwemer themselves did not. You saw the animunculi in the storage tent. Think of what the Empire could do if we produced our own!"

"Leave interesting mementos for post-Empire archeologists?"

Armand chuckled, or at least pretended to. "How about animunculi laborers who could make life easier for the common people? That'd sit well with you, wouldn't it?"

"It would," Daria answered. "Though I imagine it'd put a lot of people out of work, too."

"Me and Dad had an interesting talk about the potential economic consequences," Jolda said.

Armand made a dismissive wave with his free hand. "Oh, it'll be a disruption, sure. But think about the benefits: machines doing the backbreaking labor that cuts so many lives short. Commoners able to pursue their interests and passions the way the Dwemer once did. A way to free Morrowind's slaves by making slavery an economic liability. A lot more efficient than petitioning the Curia or Elder Council, wouldn't you say? That's not even getting into the military applications."

Armand leaned forward, firelight flickering on his chiseled jaw. "Not many people know what I'm about to tell you, Daria. Oh, it's not a secret; just obscure. The main reason that Emperor Tiber Septim annexed Morrowind was to get access to the Dwemer ruins."

Daria thought back to her studies. "Huh. I'd always heard he'd done it to secure the eastern frontier so he could concentrate on fighting the Altmer... wait! Are you saying he used Dwemer weapons when he conquered the west?"

Armand was silent for half a second before he responded. "No, only that Tiber Septim understood the value of knowledge. It was Imperial grit and courage that brought the Aldmeri Dominion to heel. Nothing more."

Somehow, Daria didn't believe him. Deep inside, she felt an intimation of fire and war, one emanating from the stone beneath the tent and the miles of twisting metal passages therein. The Empire simply did not care about the poor, certainly not enough to delve into dangerous ruins for their sake.

But it loved weapons.

She thought back to the bizarre animunculi in the storage tent. The Dwemer had armies of them, so why shouldn't the Empire have legions of the same? Especially if Dwemer artifacts really did have something to do with Tiber Septim's final victory against the Altmer. A victory that the military histories had always been a bit vague about. A victory that should have taken years somehow compressed into a few bloody weeks.

No wonder it was so easy for the IAS to get funding.

The conversation turned to idle things. Daria faded out, letting Jolda and Armand drive most of the talk. She finally excused herself by pleading sleepiness.

"Before you go," Armand said. "I'd like to show my appreciation for the work you've been doing. You can go inside Arkngthand tomorrow. Ask the foreman for an assignment, and she'll give you one. I want you to get a better look at exactly what we're working with."

"Sure. Thank you," Daria said. She bowed in the Redguard manner, earning a smile from Armand.

Daria stepped out into a starless night lit only by Red Mountain's sooty glow. She tightened her coat and raised her hooded lantern to make her way back to the barracks tent. Gusts drove flecks of ash into her eyes and mouth. She still hadn't come to a decision about Karl's incriminating paper. It suddenly no longer seemed that important. He'd only been skimming jewels. Probably not something the Empire—or Armand—cared much about.

At least she'd get to see Arkngthand up close the next day.

Far above, Red Mountain's smoldering caldera stretched like a fiery mouth across the night sky.

Musical Closer - Lucretia My Reflection, by Sisters of Mercy

This post has been edited by WellTemperedClavier: Nov 29 2024, 08:15 AM

[Acadian]

I think Daria is right that the IAS may suit her better as an organization than the other guilds and clubs she’s looked into.

I’m still appreciating the bumps that the relationship between Jane and Daria has taken in the past. For they have truly become much stronger friends with the luxury of being able to speak openly and frankly to each other. The exchange between them in this episode were great and led Daria to the truism that a word to Armand could indeed probably shut down Karl’s embezzling and creepy overtures to the ladies at the same time.

Also a thought-provoking conversation between Armand and Daria, revealing some pretty interesting insights. Those Dwemer certainly did have some imposing technology. And Daria even got some nice Surilie Brothers wine (almost as good as Tamika’s I’d wager).

Nice to know that it looks like Daria will get her chance to actually get into the underground of the dig site. Hope nothing tries to kill her. . . .

[SubRosa]

He’s already rich, but now he’s stealing Morrowind’s history to get even richer.
Ummmm, Empire much then?

So Daria is actually interested in the Dwemer? Well that is nice! She could dig up discover lost cities, release evils sealed into cans, loose ancient curses upon civilization, you know, the normal stuff archaeologists do...

I am sure the Empire is interested in the Dwemer robots for the same reason any Empire would be: Unlimited Power!

I am now picking through my vague memories of Elder Scrolls lore. But I do seem to remember Tiber Septim getting some kind of Numidium from Morrowind, and maybe powering it with the soul of his Battlemage, whose name I forget. The one who wrote the Art of War Magic book, and became one of the Underkings. I seem to recall that it is what conquered the Altmer, but was destroyed in the process or afterward?

Coo, Daria gets to go exploring. I hope she takes Kavon or Maiko with her though. She's likely to meet some of those animunculi that are not quite turned off.