Outlanders (Morrowind Crossover) Options

[Renee]

Yea, that's right. Striders don't go to Pelagiad. Forgot about that. Where has the Spiral played, overall? Pelagiad for sure, and also Suran. Caldera's a safe journey, I'd imagine. What about Vivec City? Seyda Neen? I'm guessing some locations are definitely off-limits. Molag Mar? Hell to the no.

Yum... roasting insect hides! Gag/hack.

Mom's giving Daria "the speech". "There's a time when the roost is over, in other words, get on with your life!" Gosh, that's ... that would be so awkward. I never had to do this with my child, she was eager to go to college. Guess I'm lucky in that regard. Daria doesn't seem like she's ready.

Oddly, Quinn's brimming to grow up, if only to futher her silly Fashion Guild. Ah, geez.

“You’ve still got a little more time, Quinn. But I do like your attitude!

Mom gets the exclamation point comments this time!

Wow, look at this title! Serjo Tomal Sloan, Son of Serjo Angyar Sloan, Gentleman of Morrowind and of the Imperial City, Retainer in Good Standing to Great House Hlaalu Good god, man. eVen before we get to read Daria's thoughts on this I was already thinking What the HECK?

But then, that has to be Sloan making a joke (which is Daria's exact thought as well). I wonder if he's flirting with her, in this odd sort of way.

Ah, there's dad. Dad doesn't have any funny lines this week!

This is Belle & Sebastian. I don't think I've ever heard their music before. That's one thing really cool, sometimes you introduce us (me, anyway) to new tunes.

[WellTemperedClavier]

Chapter 3

Jane almost couldn't believe the news when Daria told her. Naturally, she thought back to the debacle with Natalinos the previous year. With that came all the other disappointments: the cheapskate clients, the lean winters, the parents who'd spent the last decade in the Imperial City without ever sending a letter to Jane to let her know if they were still alive…

Jane was a Dunmer. Her ancestors had come to Morrowind with little more than the cloaks on their backs and the ash on their feet. Weakness was not an option, and that meant she had to hope.

She headed over to the temple, purchasing some gold kanet flowers on the way. Once in the temple's shadowed sanctuary, she knelt before the great triolith and laid the gleaming petals between the brightly burning candles around it.

"Holy Vehk," she uttered. "Thank you for turning Serjo Olerlo's heart. I'll create something beautiful in your name."

She glanced up at Vivec's lean, flame-crowned form painted in black on the triloith's side.

"If you turn some more noble hearts, I'll make more. Like what you told me that one time—that the rest of the world doesn't see things the way you and I do—and how that's okay. Maybe I can make more people see."

She whispered that part. The words weren't strictly appropriate for prayer, but she still felt, in her heart of hearts, that she'd heard her god when she was a hungry child. Even if she hadn't, Vivec knew she believed she had. He'd understand.

"But if he's another jerk like Natalinos," Jane said, her voice trembling in the darkness as she lowered her head, "please watch out for me."

She knew he would.

*********

Jane reached the stairway leading to High Town by noon on Loredas. She'd decided it'd be wise to take up Tomal's offer of answering any questions she might have, and Daria had agreed to join her.

Tomal wasn't a client, but he was a noble, so Jane did everything she could to make herself look presentable. She'd scrubbed herself clean at the bathhouse that morning and put on her least tattered clothes. Tomal had seemed okay the last time they'd met. But rules were still rules, and she wouldn't break any until she knew she could get away with it.

Daria showed up a bit later, wrapped up in a thick green cloak. The sun glinted off her glasses as she neared.

"Ready to submit yourself to the tender mercies of the aristocracy?" Jane asked.

"I'd say I have too much self-respect," Daria said, "but I spent the better part of the morning chaperoning Quinn and the Fashion Club on their latest spending spree, so that's clearly a lie."

Jane looked down at her own shirt, the fabric red except where paint had stained it otherwise. "I hope my clothes don't look too downscale for young Tomal to answer our questions."

"You're fine. As much as it surprises me to say, I don't think Tomal is as stuck-up as his peers. Maybe him acting normal it is only misguided rebellion on his part, but it does make him a lot easier to put up with."

They marched up the stairs. Glancing up, Jane spotted a guard looking down on them from atop one of the blocky adobe watchtowers. Good way to get used to High Town, she supposed, where someone always looked down on you.

"I still don't know what I'm going to wear tomorrow," Jane said.

"I'm sure Quinn could give you a recommendation detailed to the point of excruciation."

"Hmm, I'd take that, except I don't think I can afford any of her recommendations."

"She kept lecturing me on how to dress for my interview tomorrow," Daria said.

"What's this?"

Daria sighed. "I'm going to talk to Armand. He was impressed enough with my performance at Arkngthand to help me formally join the Imperial Archeological Society."

"That's sounds good."

"Yes, since I've always wanted to make a living by counting wheels and struts."

Jane looked over to her friend once they finished climbing the stairs. How nice it'd be if she could trade places with Daria for a day. No job was perfect, but working for anything that started with "Imperial" and ended with "Society" probably meant ending up with a nice sinecure at the very least. Get something like that, and she'd never have to worry about an empty belly again.

"It's not that bad," Jane finally said, trying not to let it bother her. "You'll get to explore Dwemer ruins."

"I still hate being another part of this system."

"Hey, get rich enough, and you can probably figure out clever ways to cheat it. Or at least be able to get away with cheating if you screw up and get caught."

They reached the Driler manor, an expansive three-story home with potted ferns and mushrooms lining the balconies. Daria walked straight up to the door and knocked. It opened a few minutes later to reveal an imposing, scarred Dunmer.

"We're here to see Serjo Tomal Sloan," Daria said.

The doorkeeper frowned. Jane didn't spend much time with nobles, but she still knew the rules. She stepped forward and bowed.

"Honored sera," she said, "my friend and I have come at the request of Serjo Tomal Sloan. We will be waiting for him when he's ready."

The doorkeeper examined them, nodded, and then closed the door in their faces.

"I get the feeling we're not welcome," Daria said. She adjusted her glasses and ran a hand through her hair to smooth out some of the tangles.

"We're fine. He'll fetch Serjo Sloan for us; you just have to know how to ask. I'm surprised he hasn't taught you more about aristocratic etiquette."

"We don't spend that much time together."

The door opened up seconds later, revealing a smiling Tomal.

"Honored serjo," Jane said, bowing.

"Hi," Daria said.

"Hey, Daria," Tomal greeted, offering a nod. Then he briefly turned to Jane. "Good to see you again, Jane." He smiled. "I'd offer to let you two inside, but you'd have to listen to my father complain about provincial shipping fees, and that's not something I'd inflict on my worst enemy."

"Some time in an oubliette would be a mercy compared to that," Daria said.

Jane cringed at Daria's comment. Weren't they worried that the elder Sloan might hear? Then again, Tomal seemed relaxed. Maybe his dad let this sort of thing slide.

"I'm sure my mom would agree," Tomal said. "Anyway, we can talk out here. What do you want to know?"

Both Daria and Tomal looked at Jane. She breathed in to steady herself. Tomal accepted informality from Daria, but that didn't mean the same went for Jane. "What sort of style does Serjo Olerlo want for his painting?"

"Standard Imperial," Tomal answered. "Nothing you can't handle."

"Good to know that nobles are as driven to conformity as everyone else," Daria said.

Tomal smiled and gave an expansive shrug. "Hey, you always have to keep up with what your friends think the emperor thinks is hip."

Jane nodded. Most of her samples were in that style, so she'd bring those. "Thank you. What are Serjo Olerlo's virtues?"

That was the proper way to ask if he'd be any trouble.

Tomal's expression turned more serious. "You don't need to be so formal, Jane. Anyway, I have to be honest with you: I don't know him very well. He's lowborn but earned his aristocratic commission through work for the Hlaalu Council Company. Something to do with negotiating a tax decrease on tanna root sold in the Imperial City."

"So, he's a token example to preserve the illusion of upward mobility," Daria said.

Jane sucked in her breath, not believing her ears. Mocking the system in the safety of the Lucky Lockup was one thing, but right in front of one of the system's wealthiest scions? She'd bring down everything! Jane's future, maybe her entire career, all vanished in a puff of smoke because of some smart remark.

"What's life without a little illusion?" Tomal said. "Hey, at least some Dunmer nobles earned their way to the top. Not sure you can say the same for the Imperial equivalent."

"I'll have you know that it takes a lot of effort to sustain generations of selective inbreeding," Daria replied.

Tomal smirked and turned his attention back to Jane. It was only another joke to him. No wonder he got along so well with Daria.

Jane exhaled and forced herself to concentrate. Everything was okay. "Uh, right. What about Serjo Olerlo's personality?"

"He's all business, from what I've seen. Not friendly, but not mean either."

"Whatever you do, Jane," Daria said, "don't get between him and profit." But she looked at Tomal, not Jane, when she spoke, her eyes taking him all in through her thick lenses. Jane recognized the look. It was the same one she used to give Trent.

Great. Daria probably didn't realize she'd fallen for Tomal. She certainly didn't care that she was making Jane's job harder.

"I'm not going to get in the way of his profit, Daria. Hell, I'm trying to make him richer," Jane said, not quite able to keep her frustration in check.

Daria scoffed and looked heavenward in exasperation.

"That's the attitude he wants," Tomal said, his expression apologetic. "So I'd say you're in the right mindset."

"Great. Is there anything else I should know?" Jane asked. More than anything, she wanted to start working and get away from these kids. Not kids, they were the same age as her. But it sure didn't feel that way.

"That should be everything, though, like I said, I've only met him a few times. I can tell you know your etiquette, so follow that and you should be okay," Tomal said.

Bidding their goodbyes to Tomal, Jane and Daria headed out of High Town. They didn't talk much until they reached the noise and crowds of the Commercial District.

"Sorry I blew up at you there," Jane said.

"It's okay. I should have let you talk," Daria admitted. "You do have a lot riding on this."

"No harm done. I know what I need to know."

She hoped.

"I gotta say," Jane continued, "you get along with Serjo Sloan surprisingly well."

"He annoys me less than most people."

"Why, from you, Daria, that's practically a declaration of everlasting love."

"Spoiled nobles aren't my type. Assuming I have a type, which is looking doubtful."

"How about Dunmer guys whose names start with T?" Jane tried to make it sound like a joke.

But when Daria's face crinkled with suspicion, she knew she'd failed. "Are you trying to imply something?" Daria demanded.

"You do seem awfully fond of Serjo Sloan."

"That doesn't mean I'm in love with him. First of all, he's a noble, and I still disapprove of nobles. I just disapprove of him slightly less. Second, it'd be a lot of work for a humble commoner like me to date one of Morrowind's great scions, and if there's one thing I hate, it's effort."

"Okay, okay. Maybe I misread." But Jane didn't think she had.

Gods, that could be a real disaster in the making. Daria armored herself with wit and sarcasm. That way, no one knew that the taunts of Charach's schoolchildren still echoed for her in Balmora's streets or that Quinn's every dismissive comment struck right to the bone. Daria hurt easily. Trent had been safe for her; he'd never go after someone so young. Jane hadn't met Tedannupal, and had some doubts about him, but Daria hadn't seen him since summer. Tomal, on the other hand, was a lot like Daria in some ways. Aware of the world's silliness and cruelty but more protected from them than Daria could ever hope to be.

Jane didn't want to think of how many ways he could hurt her.

"If you like," Daria said, "we can celebrate your ascension into high society with a few drinks at the Lucky Lockup."

"Thanks, but I'll have to pass. I need to get ready for tomorrow. Hey, if things go well, I can do the buying from now on."

Daria nodded. "In that case, good luck."

"And good luck on your interview with Armand tomorrow," Jane said, waving goodbye as she split off toward St. Roris Bridge.

Jane didn't feel that great about the situation. But right now, she had to concentrate on getting ready.

Musical Closer - Bizarre Love Triangle, by New Order

This post has been edited by WellTemperedClavier: Dec 1 2024, 05:59 AM

[Acadian]

Jane’s knowledge of noble etiquette really came in handy with the Sloans’ front door keeper.

This potential job with Olerlo is looking a little better. I hope it pans out for Jane.

Jane is really astute, both about Daria’s conflicted feelings regarding Dunmer men whose names begin with T, and how Daria armors herself up in cynicism to avoid being hurt.

Another new word for me, ‘sinecure’. And although I’m familiar with ‘oubliette’, it’s been an elf’s age since I’ve seen it used.

[SubRosa]

Once again, an uncompromising look into the harsh reality of the life of the working class Dunmer. Poor Jane. In this case literally, as well as figuratively.

I like how you pointed out that Daria is wearing her signature green jacket cloak.

I also loved Daria's cynical observation about High Town being literally uphill, so that you cannot escape the fact that they are looking down upon you.

Daria is going to become an archaeologist! If I have learned anything from movies (the only valid source upon this subject) that means she will have to take lessons in proficiency with whips and archery, she will need a hat and a leather jacket, and she will have to learn how to release sealed evils from the jars. The last part is absolutely critical of course.

Between Jane's horror at Daria's relaxed and insurgent speech with Tomal, one can see that a very easy, comfortably informal relationship has grown up between them. It is a lot easier to imagine that Daria might date this guy, under these circumstances, as opposed to the Tom from the TV show.

And it is nice to see that even Jane herself has recognized that.

[WellTemperedClavier]

Chapter 4

Daria wiled away the gray Sundas morning in her room, idly reading Tsathenes' The Madness of Pelagius by candlelight. The doomed emperor's bizarre torments cushioned her against the more quotidian torments of the outside world.

"Daria!" Mom called. "Are you getting ready for the interview?"

"I'm practicing my flattery and dissembling as we speak," she said, not looking up from her book.

She'd hoped that would be enough, but she heard her mother's footsteps echoing in the stairwell seconds later. Sighing, she doggedly kept reading as Mom poked her head into the room.

"That doesn't look like practice, Daria."

"Sure, it is. I'm learning all about how people comport themselves in the highest echelons of society."

Mom sighed and peered close to look at the book's spine. "I'm not sure that the reign of Mad Pelagius provides the best examples of such things. This is a good opportunity, Daria, and you need to take it more seriously."

"I'm taking it as seriously as I take my schoolwork."

Daria had expected that comment to annoy Mom. Instead, her mother sat down on the bed next to Daria and put a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"What's the matter, dear? You seemed almost enthusiastic about working for the Imperial Archeological Society last year. Didn't you enjoy your time in Arkngthand?"

Daria gulped. She didn't know what to say because she didn't know, precisely, what bothered her so much. Since yes, the IAS probably was a good fit for her. As good a fit as someone like her would ever find.

"It was okay. All I did was count gears."

No point in telling Mom how she'd blackmailed Karl over his artifact theft ring. Or that she'd never told Armand about it.

"You always have to start with low-level work, Daria. But you've already done some, and you made a good impression."

Daria remembered that she'd been pretty happy when Armand promised her a place on any future expeditions. But the future had felt far away back then, like something that'd never actually arrive.

"I guess it's a lot to take in," Daria admitted.

"Just take things one day at a time. Quite a lot has happened in the past few years, and you've grown up a great deal."

Daria grunted, her shoulders stiffening beneath Mom's caress.

"Anyway, try your best at the interview. You're a vibrant conversationalist. When you want to be, at any rate."

Quinn appeared at the door. "What's going on?"

"Oh, your sister's a little anxious about her interview today."

"No, I'm not," Daria said, not making any attempt to sound convincing.

"It's no big deal! Here, I'll do your hair for you!"

Daria froze in terror.

"I think that's a wonderful idea!" Mom stood up. "I need to get back to work, but Quinn will make you look your best."

"Wait, you can't—" Daria began.

"Oh, I can!" Quinn said, smiling as she took out her comb and advanced on Daria.

*********

Daria wished she'd worn something over her newly styled hair as she walked down Silk-hawkers' Street to Armand's house.

Everyone stared at her.

She tried to look as angry as possible, which was easy to do given her situation. Sure enough, folks looked away, or at least didn't stare quite as obviously.

Daria hesitated at Armand's door. All her mother's endless lectures about social advancement and networking ran through her mind like one long scold. Never, of course, anything about Daria being herself. Because she wasn't enough for them. Mom and Dad wanted a daughter who'd soar through the Empire's institutions, collecting accolades and recommendations the way Quinn collected suitors, until she reached some lofty position that they could brag about. All part of their plan.

But not her plan. Daria didn't particularly care about money or power. If Morrowind had taught her anything, it was that those always came with corruption. Everyone in power had reached their position by trampling on others. All she wanted was a roof over her head and enough money to put the occasional new book on her shelf. A simple life in Balmora wouldn't be bad. Get a quiet job for some local company, and spend her free time reading or skewering the nonsense around her with Jane and Tomal at her side.

Funny. She'd never pictured Tomal as part of her long-term plans before. With Jane so busy, she had been spending more time with him. But with any luck, Jane would soon have a stable job and not have to devote so many hours to hunting for commissions.

Daria had fought an uphill battle to keep her place in Balmora. She didn't want to give it up to help the Empire find more Dwemer war machines.

Jolda opened the door, her expression puzzled as she cradled her toddler brother.

"Hey, Daria," she said. "You've been standing out there for a while."

Daria blushed. "Uh, sorry."

Jolda smiled. "It's okay. You're here for my dad, right? He's in the study," she said, stepping aside. "I love what you did with your hair, by the way. It looks really cool."

"What you see is the result of my sister using me as an experimental subject."

Jolda laughed. "Well, your sister knows her stuff. Dad!" she called out. "Daria's here."

"Tell her to come in." His voice came from upstairs.

Jolda sat down in front of the glowing hearth. A dozen papers and a few open books lay on the colorful rug before it. Sighing, she absent-mindedly rocked her brother while peering at the texts. Her half-lidded gaze told Daria that she'd rather be doing almost anything else.

Daria took off her shoes, as per Redguard custom, and walked up the stairs to Armand's office. He waited for her inside, standing by a big table and dressed in a magnificent purple moth-silk robe. The place looked bare compared to the last time she'd seen it, the Dwemer tools and disassembled animunculi absent.

Armand bowed, and she returned the gesture a bit more deeply. He smiled. "That's what I like about you, Daria. You pay attention to the details."

"You say you like that now, but wait until you ask me to edit something you write."

His laughter, deep and rich, warmed the room. "A keen eye is what I'd want in that situation! Anyway, let's not waste any time, shall we? My understanding is that you're inquiring about opportunities in the IAS. As we've already discussed, I'm willing to give you a place there."

"I'm trying to get some more information at this point," Daria said, shifting in place. She realized she had no idea what she needed from this conversation.

Armand nodded. He walked toward his candlelit desk and took a few papers from a stack on top. "The good news is, we'll be launching another expedition sooner than I'd hoped. The IAS—and more importantly, its backers in the Elder Council—were impressed with our findings."

"Another trip to Arkngthand?"

Which, Daria supposed, wouldn't be too bad.

"No," Armand said, and then he smiled and raised his eyebrows. "They want us to go for the prize: the grand Dwemer city of Kemel-Ze."

Daria had read about the place. Miles and miles of metal galleries coursing through the living stone, the single biggest city the Dwemer had ever built (that the Empire knew about anyway).

Armand's smile faded. "I'm surprised you aren't more enthusiastic. This is the sort of opportunity that Dwemer scholars would kill to get."

Daria struggled to meet his gaze. She felt exposed as her mind scrambled for an answer. What did she want?

"Kemel-Ze's pretty far. And in a part of Morrowind even less friendly than the norm," she said.

Armand nodded. "It is. But we'll take all necessary precautions."

"Has Kemel-Ze been cleared?"

"They've cleared the parts we'll be investigating." He chuckled. "Daria, we want you for your brain, not for your sword arm. You won't be the one fighting Dwemer animunculi or disarming their traps."

"Me fighting ancient machines might make for a good dark comedy, but probably wouldn't help the IAS very much," Daria said. "When will you be going?"

"At the beginning of Rain's End, next year. The IAS is a bureaucracy at heart, but like all good bureaucracies, it moves quickly when it's properly motivated."

"Four months from now?" She uttered, her mouth suddenly dry.

Armand's brow furrowed. "Is that a problem?"

"Uh, is Jolda coming?"

He shook his head. "No. She's got some promising internships here in Balmora, and we decided it'd be best for her to continue those."

More like you decided it'd be best, Daria thought.

"How much taxpayer money does this expedition cost?" Daria asked.

Armand blinked and then drew his head back. "Why do you care?"

Daria crossed her arms. "Don't you think it's more important to spend public funds on aiding those who most need help?"

She'd gone too far, but she felt weirdly okay with that. Since the IAS was corrupt, as bad as the Mages Guild or Great House Hlaalu in its own way. Some of her doubt and uncertainty disappeared.

"Are you trying to be funny, Daria?"

"Not at all. I don't think there's anything funny about how badly things are run."

"The kind of research we do has revolutionary potential!" he said, swiftly cutting his left hand through the air as he said "revolutionary".

"Or, maybe, it'll go toward lining the pockets of nobles and monopolists."

Armand's jaw set, his face stormy as he stood up. "Daria, I agreed to speak with you because I believed you were interested in an opportunity. Now, I know you can be kind of peculiar—and that's okay, I can deal with that—but I will not abide insult."

"I'm not insulting you. I'm simply expressing reservations."

"Those aren't mutually exclusive," Armand said. "Let me ask you, then: What are you doing to help? All I see is a rich Imperial girl taking it easy in an occupied province! Okay, the Empire doesn't do everything it can to make things better, but at least the IAS does something."

"The question," Daria said, "is whether such efforts accomplish anything."

Armand drew himself up, his chin thrusting out as he glared down at her. "How old are you? Eighteen? You don't know anything. I'm an adult, and I worked real hard to get where I am today. Your mom and dad never taught you proper respect, and that's something that'll cause a lot of problems for you."

Daria smiled. His last little rant had made things so much easier. "Uncomfortable truths mean a lot more to me than some artificial conception of respect. Since we're clearly at an impasse, I'll take my leave."

Elation rushed through her as she turned around and walked out of Armand's office. It'd have been gratifying to hear him rant on her way out, but he only grumbled something about wayward youth. Jolda looked up at Daria as she passed through the front room, her eyes questioning.

"What happened?"

"There was a confrontation," she said, as she jammed her feet back into her boots.

Daria opened the door and stepped out onto the street, her cheeks hot and her heart thumping. All the doubts about her future fell away, replaced by the clarity of her ideals. The system was rotten. She'd seen the rot in the Mages Guild, in two great houses, in Drenlyn Academy, in the Cyrodiilic School, and in individuals and communities all through the Empire. She wouldn't play their game.

Daria tightened her coat around her thin frame, the air outside cold after the warmth of Armand's home. Iron-gray clouds clogged the skies above. Rain was certain. Equally certain was Mom eventually finding out about the whole episode. She and Armand didn't run in the same circles, but word always spread.

Maybe Daria had been a little hasty. But she didn't want to end up like Jolda, living someone else's life and always at the mercy of those stronger than her. The powerful weren't always bad. Tomal was okay. But for every Tomal, there were a dozen Syndas, Johannas, and Hetherias. Better to stay invisible and live on her terms with the people she trusted.

She started down the street as the first raindrops splashed against the flagstones.

Musical Closer - Head Like A Hole, by Nine Inch Nails (NSFW Lyrics)

This post has been edited by WellTemperedClavier: Feb 2 2025, 07:32 AM

[Renee]

Okay, so Trent does some shows solo, and others with his full band. Heading to Ald'ruhn is the most challenging gig of all, I'd assume. Just because of ash storms. Sure, you can take a silt strider there but there are still storms to deal with (assuming he plays outdoors there). Then again, maybe he played in Ald'ruhn's tavern. 🎸

Yes, I can see how seeing the rest of Morrowind might make her feel anxious! At least she knows Balmora. Balmora's got just enough culture and quirkiness to keep it interesting (from her perspective). It's dangerous as well, but she already knows where not to go.

Yeah, Quinn is SUPER ambitious. I make fun of her a lot, but the Mall Princess actually does have a great mind for business. It's like she's almost blind to the fact that what she's doing has never been done before in Vvardenfell society, and that her entire plan could therefore become a huge fail if (let's say) Hlaalu bans such things as fashion shows and whatnot.

Anyway, this scene with Jane preparing for prayer is touching. She's praying to Vehk. Is that the Vvardenfellian name for Vivec?

Again, Tomal's the center, Jane (like a few others) are merely in orbit of the Big Mer. AT least Tomal's actually pretty laid-back, right? This would be a much different story if he was a big jerk.

Daria's wearing a big green cloak. Didn't she replace her bug shell hat at some point as well?

No job was perfect, but working for anything that started with “Imperial” and ended with “Society” probably meant ending up with a nice sinecure at the very least.

That's really poignant! .... Daria's comments are cracking me up, as usual. "Good to know Imperials are driven towards conformity..." Lolz. Still, she's causing Jane (who NEEDS this money) a bit of grief.

I agree with Jane: there's something there. Something with Daria as she relates to Tomal, that is, even if it's just "what if" curiosity. Maybe Daria doesn't even know it's there. But the fact that she's soooo abrasive as she refers to the Big Mer only makes it more obvious.

Well, good luck to Janey. 🍀 <--- There's a 4-leaf clover for her, in case your browser can't pick that image up.

EDIT: we posted at the same time last Wednesday! So let me catch up with the newest chapter now. Whoa, she's got an interview.

Oh yeah that's right. There was all that commotion about the blackmail and stuff. Things also went wrong. Didn't they get attacked by some Dwemer contraption?

“It’s no big deal! Here, I’ll do your hair for you!”

Daria froze in terror.

Ha ha love that! And also, everyone loves Daria's hair except Daria herself. Wish I could see it.

Wow. She's really blowing this "interview"! I wonder if she wouldn't be so divisive if Jolda was going to the city as well. Or even Armand himself. All the things she says about the Impies are true, but would she be bringing this up if she were going with either one of them?

It is pretty spectacular how good she is at failing though! She's really good at messing things up if she doesn't want to be involved.





This post has been edited by Renee: Apr 22 2023, 02:11 PM

[Acadian]

A new Quinnish doo for Daria! And it seems like Quinn, unsurprisingly, did a good job.

I’m not sure Armand deserved Daria’s confrontational approach but I get that Daria has made up her mind about not playing the networking/get ahead game. That decision alone gives her more control over her destiny. . . and burning a couple bridges just makes the decision more final.

She does seem rather clear now about what she wants:
’All she wanted was a roof over her head and enough money to put the occasional new book on her shelf. A simple life in Balmora wouldn’t be bad. Get a quiet job for some local company, and spend her free time reading or skewering the nonsense around her with Jane and Tomal at her side.’

She will need a job of some sort though. Whether it be working in a flower shoppe, bug hat factory or as Jane’s paint caddy.

[SubRosa]

Time for Daria to have a fashion club glow up! At least this is something that Quinn is actually quite good at. So I am not expecting it to be terrible, but rather genuinely awesome.

Good goddess, don't ever be yourself at an interview Daria! No one will ever want to hire you then!

Yay its Jolda! I had forgotten that Armand was her dad.

Oooh! Kemel-Ze! What is that?

Ok, there is the Daria we know and love. Sabotaging her opportunities, maybe because she is a little scared of actually following through with them? It looks like she not only has a torch out, but a literal flamethrower to burn this bridge. As her mother would say: "Sigh". I guess this means we can put away the hat and whip, Daria Jones won't be needing them.

[WellTemperedClavier]

Chapter 5

All the years Jane spent painting by candlelight until her eyes ached for rest and then doing it a bit longer, of hustling for good clients and faking a smile to get her fair share, of pinching every septim to make sure she had new brushes and good paints while still putting food on the table, came down to this single client. She was only eighteen, but felt like she'd been fighting for a hundred years. Maybe, just maybe, if this went well, she wouldn't have to fight quite as hard.

Her canvas and samples slung under one arm and a bag of equipment held in her other hand, Jane stood before the door of Serjo Olerlo's house. Her client lived in the south part of High Town, right above the rocky hillside that they hadn't quite gotten around to paving over. The skies above threatened rain. She glanced down at herself, tallying up the paint stains and patches of worn fabric. She'd bathed again that morning and made another short visit to the temple. ALMSIVI willing, she'd soon have a patron.

Jane knocked. A Bosmer servant opened it up, his black eyes suspicious.

"Honored sera," Jane said. "I am the painter that Serjo Olerlo has requested," she said.

The servant nodded. "Follow me."

She did, passing through candlelit hallways and on whisper-soft rugs until the servant stopped at another closed door.

"Serjo Olerlo," the servant said, "the painter you have summoned is here."

Jane shifted in place and clutched her canvas. What if he changed his mind? Nobles were fickle. Of course they were; they could always get away with it.

"Let her in," came a voice from the other side.

The servant opened the door and gestured for Jane to enter. She muttered thanks and stepped inside. Olerlo sat behind a polished mahogany desk. Like most wealthy Dunmer in Balmora, he wore an Imperial-style coat over a silk shirt and tight breeches on his legs. Only the jagged tattoos above the cheek lines of his beard marked him as a native.

"You honor me by your grace, Serjo Olerlo," Jane said, nodding in acknowledgment.

"I am told that you are a skilled artist."

Should she stay humble or go bold? Olerlo had worked himself up. Maybe he'd respect her for showing ambition. Or maybe he was one of those who pulled the ladder up from behind him, angry that any other lowborn should benefit. No way to know, so she decided to go bold. Jane smiled and raised her eyebrows. She'd be confident and sharp, the kind of person Olerlo might respect.

"I've been painting since I could first hold a brush," she said. "But I'd rather let my work speak for itself. I did bring a few samples."

"Let me see," he ordered.

Jane crouched to put her canvas and equipment on the floor and then unwrapped her three samples. She'd chosen them carefully. The first two were of Imperial merchants she'd had as clients. She'd duplicated the commissions she'd made for them for just this purpose. The third was her sketch of Natalinos. Using a sketch was a risk, but she needed to show she could portray Dunmer, and he was the only Dunmer client she'd ever had.

Plus, it'd be nice to get some use out of Natalinos.

She brought them to his desk. Olerlo studied them for a while, his face never changing.

"My sources didn't tell me about your apprenticeship days. You're young enough to still be one," he said.

Of course, he asked that. Because Dunmer always wanted to know who else you'd worked for so they could figure out exactly where you stood in the pecking order.

"My dad's an artist. He lives in the Imperial City now, but he taught me when I was a kid. I also got some training at the temple and from Sera Defoe at Drenlyn Academy. I didn't have a lot of options growing up, serjo, so I had to make my own."

Dad had barely taught her anything, and the one thing Dunmer hated was the idea that anyone could teach themselves. Because that took power away from the great houses and the temple, away from mom and dad.

Serjo Olerlo just nodded and looked again at the samples. "So, you never went through a formal apprenticeship."

Give me a smile, you bastard, Jane thought. Or even a frown. Some hint of what you think.

"Not a formal one, no," she said. "But I've practiced and trained almost every day of my life."

"I want you to paint my portrait on that canvas you brought. Can you do that?"

"Of course, serjo. How do you want this portrait?"

He looked puzzled. "I only want a portrait."

"Right. I can do all kinds of portraits. Side view, three-quarters view, anything you like."

This gave her an advantage. The guy didn't know much about art, so maybe she could wow him with basic knowledge.

"Hm. Uh, what's that kind where the subject isn't looking directly at the viewer but kind of off to the center?"

"Three-quarters."

"Three-quarters," he said, nodding as if he knew what he was talking about. "Make it as good as you can within the space of a few hours. I'm checking for speed and how well you work under pressure here."

"Got it."

Jane set up her station. She positioned herself at the side of the room so she could see Olerlo without his desk getting in the way. Subtly and carefully, she directed his position.

"You have a strong jawline, serjo. Would you like me to emphasize that?"

"Sure," he said.

"Could you turn your head a little more to the left? Just a bit... perfect!"

Now she sat before her client, her paints on her palette and her brush hovering inches above as she took in all the details: the bottle of Cyrodiilic rice wine on his desk, flanked by silver goblets; the tapestry of St. Veloth leading Olerlo's (and Jane's) ancestors; the bookshelf laden with modern tomes on business and accounting; the faint smell of kwama meat and tanna smoke; the fine clothes and the ancient tattoos.

Every client wanted to look their best. A western Imperial might want the warts-and-all approach, but that wasn't humility talking, not at all. Quite the opposite. They took pride in being honest, much like how an Imperial City resident took pride in lavish wealth, or a Dunmer took pride in displaying the strength of ancestors through their scars and tattoos.

Serjo Olerlo was a Dunmer who'd made his fortune by working with and emulating the rich Imperials of the capital. And he wanted to show that off, but only so that everyone could see how far he, a Dunmer commoner, had come. His portrait had to show strength and splendor. Strength because the Dunmer could never afford to be soft, because Morrowind did not forgive weakness. Splendor because the Empire offered wealth to the daring, and Olerlo was nothing if not daring.

Olerlo's finished portrait formed in her mind's eye. Knowing exactly what she needed to do and exactly how the painting would look, Jane dipped her brush in the palette and put the first stroke on the canvas.

Musical Closer - Too Many People, by The Pet Shop Boys

This post has been edited by WellTemperedClavier: Dec 1 2024, 06:03 AM

[Acadian]

This is a big deal for Jane and I really hope it works out for her.

Olerlo is not giving a hint of where she stands during this interview. A portrait under pressure is it to be then? Fortunately, Jane has the materials she needs and quickly makes the key decisions necessary. I think she’s off to a good start and if it doesn’t work out, I bet it won’t be due to a lack of talent on her part.

[SubRosa]

Jane has a lot riding on this. Hopefully things will work out.

Jane's observation about the people who pull up the ladder behind them felt quite topical.

At least Natalinos turned out to be good for something!

Once again, you really show how Jane does not just push paints around when she works. Nor does she even simply create an image in her mind of what she wants to draw. She interrogates the nature of her subject, examines their psychology and puts that in context with their culture, and that is what she brings out on the canvas.

[Renee]

Cool, did not know that about the Tribunal gods. There's a lot to learn there, actually. A lot of depth within ES lore.

Mm hmm, that's just what I expected, that she'd react differently if Jolda (especially Jolda) was going too.

Yes, I have seen that book plenty of times: The Ruins of Kemel-Ze. Not sure if Joan has ever read it. She tends to read stuff about the gods/goddesses, religion, and so on. Darkest Darkness? No.

You added a "Bioware" style dialog decision into the story. Jane had a choice of [BOLD] or [HUMBLE]. I am glad she chose BOLD. Maybe this way, she won't get pushed around.

Eesh. I already don't like this Olerlo guy. Doesn't seem to be much fun. See, this is why Tomal is so awesome. He comes across as fair, at least. But that little aside moment when Olerlo didn't know there are different types of portraits, and that have actual names made me smile.

Phew, a cliff-hanger! Not exactly an action-packed sort of cliffie, but you know what I mean, right? Gotta wait until tomorrow to find out what happens next!

[WellTemperedClavier]

Chapter 6

Daria told Mom that the meeting had been inconclusive. The fib didn't strike Daria as an ideal solution. Lying to idiots was easy. Idiots never asked questions or bothered to look closely. But Mom's whole job was to ask questions and study things in exacting detail. What's worse: she was good at it.

"Armand's not sure there's going to be room for me, and I don't know enough about this position to be sure it's a good fit," Daria said. "Sounds like it'd be more bureaucracy than fieldwork."

Mom frowned. "That's odd. I've only met Armand a few times, but he seems very detail-oriented. I'm surprised he'd do an interview if he was so unsure about your place. Didn't he say he wanted you with the IAS?"

"The situation has apparently changed since last year. More rich nobles' sons who all want a position, you understand," Daria said.

Mom grumbled. "Well, that's no surprise. Keep at it. Maybe something will open up."

The family decided to go out to the Glass Crown during a lull in the rain. Daria excused herself by feigning exhaustion. Once alone, she brought The Madness of Pelagius into her mom's office and resumed reading as afternoon turned to evening. She tried to, at any rate. Her attention kept drifting, and she'd forget how a sentence started before she got halfway through reading it. Rain tapped steadily on the roof and splashed onto the street outside. It should have been a perfect day for idling away with a good book in the comfort of solitude. But Daria kept ruminating on what Armand had said to her.

What was she doing to make the world better?

But what could she do? Balmora certainly had its problems, but at least she knew how it worked. She was safe. For the first time in her life, she had friends. More than one if she counted Tomal, and maybe Amelia. Maybe Jolda. But Daria suspected Jolda no longer counted herself as one, not after that day.

Putting the book in her lap, Daria stared off into space and wondered what the hell she was going to do. Mom would find out sooner or later. There would be hell to pay when she did.

It was almost dark when someone knocked at the door. Daria hesitated, not sure if she wanted to answer it. Memories of Synda's attack still lurked in the recesses of her memory: staves hitting her back and sides, her glasses shattering under Synda's foot.

She broke out in a sweat. But that was absurd. Synda was a faker who'd gotten in over her head.

"Hey, Daria! It's me!"

Jane's voice! All at once, Daria relaxed. It would be nice to talk to someone. Maybe, despite the late hour and the rain, they could go over to the Lucky Lockup and talk about the day over some drinks. Jane probably had stories about her stuck-up noble client, and Daria could get Jane to tell her that she'd done the smart thing. Because she needed to hear it from someone else.

She opened the door. Jane was drenched but grinning ear to ear.

"I got it!" Jane lunged forward and threw her arms around Daria, pulling her close and splashing cold rainwater on her once-dry clothes. "I finally did it! I… have an honest-to-goodness noble patron! I never…"

Her voice broke a little. "I never thought this would happen."

Jane stepped back and exhaled.

"Congratulations," Daria said. "I hope you don't forget the humble pleasures of kith and kin in your rise to the top."

"Eh, Drenlyn Academy can go to hell. But I won't forget you, Muthsera Morgendorffer," she said, smiling and pointing at Daria.

Daria blushed. "My customary sarcasm aside, this is great news."

"Some much-needed great news," Jane said. "How did it go with Armand?"

Daria hesitated. "That's a complicated story. If it's not too late for you, we can go out to the Lucky Lockup, and I'll tell you what happened. I need to get out of here anyway."

"Drinks are on me!" Jane offered. "Hell, since I'm indirectly working for Great House Hlaalu now, maybe I can get us a seat at the Eight Plates."

"And deal with the thinly veiled hostility of its upwardly mobile patrons," Daria said.

Jane shrugged. "Eh, I work for Serjo Olerlo. They'll just have to deal with us filthy outlanders entering their cornerclub."

"If you are going to join Balmora high society, you might as well get started." She'd never actually had a drink at Eight Plates before. That cornerclub was for Hlaalu up-and-comers, not for unconnected outlanders, something Mom and Dad had learned the hard way.

Jane's smile faded. "So, that's the catch."

"What is?" Daria asked.

"You mentioned Balmora high society. It, uh, won't be Balmora."

Daria's heart skipped a beat. "What do you mean?"

"It turns out that Serjo Olerlo wasn't hiring an artist for himself. He wants one for his wife and brother in Vivec City. Which means I'm going to have to move."

A cold and unbearable terror seized her. She wanted some sharp comment to break the silence and push down her fear. But nothing came.

"It's not right away," Jane said. "I have a month to get everything straightened out, figure out what Trent and J'dash will do. And I won't have to hunt for commissions, so we'll get more time to hang out."

"Hm. You are moving up in the world," Daria uttered, her words sounding a million miles away.

"Guess so. But hey, Vivec's not that far away, just a couple days by silt strider. Anyway, let's see if I can get us into Eight Plates." Jane gestured with her thumb over her shoulder.

"Actually," Daria said, "I've had kind of a rough day. Think I'll stay home."

Jane blinked. "Didn't you say you wanted to get out of here?"

"I got tired suddenly."

"Huh, okay. Well, sometime this week, then. You know where I'll be."

"Right. Uh, congratulations again."

Jane stood in the doorway as if not quite sure what to do. Then she stepped back outside. "Later."

"Yeah, later," Daria said, closing the door.

Her argument with Armand echoed in her mind as she sat back down, her fingers brushing against her book but not able to pick it up. As rain continued to pour down from the darkening sky, Daria suddenly realized how colossally foolish she'd been.

Musical Closer - It's Coming Down, by Cake

The End

This post has been edited by WellTemperedClavier: Dec 1 2024, 06:04 AM

[Renee]

Daria, thinking hard in this episode. She can't even get into Madness of Pelagius for crissakes! - Daria, unable to delve into a book? This cannot be!

That'll be interesting, to hear Jolda's reaction to Dar's grand bridge-burning session. Because there's gotta be a reaction. But here's the thing. There's enough of a gray-area going on here, to the point that any gossip which comes from Jolda's mouth can become a "he said/she said" deal. Daria can just brush off any fallout. It's not like she won't have other opportunities.

Cool, Jane is here. Alright, let's hear how her day went.... NICE. Jane is smiling! Great. It's a feel-good moment.

Whoa, an upgrade from Lucky Lockup to the Eight Plates! Yes, you should eat there. Thing is,

Mmm. Vivec. Yeah, that's the thing about growing up, sometimes you gotta move away from your friends. On the other hand, maybe Daria can eventually move there as well. They'd be like that show: Two Broke Girls. Except it'd be Two Busy Girls.

Cake is a great band! They played for free about 10 years ago, at Baltimore Artscape Festival, and we just happened to catch the entire show. WHOA, they do a song called Daria!

This post has been edited by Renee: Apr 26 2023, 04:59 PM

[Acadian]

Great news for Jane. . . but what a bombshell fireball for Daria to learn her bestie will be moving. Jane has been such an important anchor for Daria as she has tried to find her place in Balmora. Now to lose that. Especially after her burning her IAS bridge. Hmm, Armand actually seems like a pretty good sort. Perhaps an apology might coax him to overlook her rash behavior at that interview.

[SubRosa]

As every child should Daria is lying to mom about why she did not get the job (i.e. told the manager to shove it).

It's Jane! I can't wait to find out how things went.

"Eh, Drenlyn Academy can go to hell."
You tell 'em Jane!

Uh oh, there is the catch... Why is there always a catch?

Moving to Vivec? Well that's good for Jane. That's life in the big city. As big as it gets for Vvardenfell. Not so good for Daria. She is losing the best, and some might say only, friend she has. So certainly a bittersweet occasion for her. I bet she will handle it with grace and empathy and totally not in a passive-aggressive tantrum way...

Yep Daria. You are a fool.

[WellTemperedClavier]

Episode 26: Ashtrapped

Note: Special thanks to KatikaCreations for the valuable feedback she provided! Special thanks also to Atiyatortilla, for finding the original draft of this story (which I'd lost) and sending it to me.

Chapter 1

The caravanner studied the silt strider's exposed brain with watchful eyes. She raised her right hand, hesitated for a moment, and then pressed her index and middle fingers into a whorl on the organ's gray and rubbery surface. The strider let out a keening moan that echoed across the wastes. Its tower-tall legs stretched, the passenger compartment within the shell tilting subtly to the left as the creature changed course.

Heedless, the robed Dunmer pilgrim at the back of the shell kept up his droning prayer to some Tribunal saint. Huddled in a thick green cloak, Daria took stock of her situation: she was riding an enormous bug through the endless ash desert; her family had no idea where she was; and she was doing it as the traveling companion of her history teacher, Sera Dimartani.

Former history teacher, she corrected. Dimartani sat next to her, knees up to his nose, his long and lean body contorted to fit into the cramped passenger space.

"If you're WONDERING," he said, "the pilgrim is asking saints Roris and Veloth for a safe JOURNEY."

"Which saint handles comfortable journeys? Because I want to make a point to not thank him."

Dimartani made a sound halfway between a grunt and a laugh. "Comfort is something you IMPERIALS worry about. Not us Dunmer!"

"Having seen High Town, I'm not sure I'd agree with that statement."

"Which is why I'm glad to finally put BALMORA behind me!"

Dimartani grinned and thrust his fist into the air, only to bang it against the shell. The caravanner hissed and shot him a dirty look.

He cringed. "Uh, SORRY! I am merely enthusiastic that we are on our way to Ald'ruhn."

Daria reached out and pressed her hands against the carapace for balance as she slowly stood up, the leathery surface beneath her shifting with the motion of the silt strider's legs. Cautious steps took her to the open-air segment in the middle, which offered a view of the outdoors.

Cold, gray skies merged with the sea of ash spreading all around them. Enormous hills of soot and cinders rose like waves frozen mid-crest, broken by basalt promontories and the blackened skeletons of petrified trees. Storm-crowned and fire-sheathed, Red Mountain burned to the east, its fuming slopes girdled by the gleaming blue band of the Ghostfence.

She had to admit that she liked the view. Stark and uncompromising. A land that didn't care about social niceties, unscarred by farms or plantations. But that didn't mean it was safe for her. Going to Ald'ruhn was only the most recent in a series of very stupid decisions…

*********

"Jeez, Daria! I don't know where your stupid bug-shell hat is! It's not something I'd ever wear, so why would I steal it?" Quinn demanded.

"As part of your mad attempt to monopolize all fashion?"

"For your information, I'd only monopolize the good fashion!" She made an exasperated squeal and stormed out of the room. Daria glared at Quinn's retreating form and then stepped over to her sister's side of the room for a more thorough look.

"Daria, what's going on?" Mom asked from the doorframe, arms crossed and eyes suspicious.

"If you don't mind," Daria said, "I'm trying to get something done."

"Those hats cost maybe a septim a piece; you can buy a new one on the way to Jane's house."

"That's not the point!"

"Daria, what's the matter with you?"

Daria knelt to look under Quinn's bed. "Maybe I'm tired of putting up with Quinn's crap."

"I didn't even do anything, Mom, Daria's going crazy!" Quinn called out from downstairs.

"Hm, I think I see what's happening," Mom said. "You're upset about Jane leaving, aren't you."

"Why would I be? Aside from her being the only friend I've ever had," Daria said, and saying that fact out loud made it hurt all over again. She groped beneath Quinn's bed, not entirely surprised that she found nothing.

"I know it's hard. But she won't be that far away."

"Two days' travel is pretty damn far." Flustered and fed up, Daria stood back up. No point in searching for the hat at this point.

"Make the most of this trip with her, Daria. It's not fair to her for you to carry that attitude with you. This is a good opportunity for Jane, and you should be happy for her."

*********

The distant call of a silt strider—not the one she rode—awoke Daria the next day. Pushing her aching body upright, she took her glasses out of her chitin carrying case and put them on. How long had she been out? The sun gleamed wan and distant through hazy gray clouds, still in the east though not far from the noontime zenith. She must've slept through the morning.

Dimartani stood next to her, watching their surroundings with his bad eye bulging and his teeth locked into a rictus grin. It was the closest he'd ever come to looking happy. Daria stuck her head out of the gap in the shell.

They'd almost reached the city of Ald'ruhn. She did a double-take when she saw the palace at the north end of the city, its form a bulbous white dome swelling out of the desert like some enormous mushroom. Not fungus, though. In actuality, the city-sized husk of a thankfully long-dead giant crab where the Redoran lords made their homes.

A line of silt striders walked at the head of a dust cloud to the north, their legs so tall and skinny that they seemed ready to topple. The call must have come from one of them.

Ald'ruhn was a world away from Balmora. Balmora's builders had laid it out in the neat straight lines befitting a Hlaalu entrepôt. Easy to enter, easy to leave. Ald'ruhn, on the other hand, existed in circles, each group of buildings like a social clique at school, with faces turned to each other and backs to the world. Not easy to enter and probably not easy to leave. Around the city ran a white and winding wall punctuated by towers that looked like forlorn bones sticking out of the ash.

She reminded herself of the ways of Great House Redoran. Honor-bound. Traditional. Communal. She wondered if they realized how well their city's layout advertised that.

"We're HERE!" Dimartani said. "I never thought they'd take me back, Daria."

The old Dunmer turned to look at her, the hard lines of his face softening. Tears stood in his red eyes. "I OWE that to you!"

"Don't get too excited," Daria warned. "Great House Redoran only said they'd reconsider your case." She felt like her mother dealing with a naïve client who had no idea how much legal trouble they were actually in.

"Always TRUTHFUL and to the point!" Dimartani walked back to the little space the two of them had made for themselves next to the caravanner.

"I believe I have a good case," he said. "I have paid off my debts through HONORABLE work. As honorable as you can get in Balmora, anyway. My sponsors also seemed IMPRESSED that I saved your life."

Daria sat down next to him. Cold desert winds blew through and around the shell. "But you didn't mention that I was an outlander."

Dimartani pressed his lips together and looked down at the leathery floor. "Morrowind has CHANGED, Daria. Even Redoran has changed. There are outlanders within Redoran, now. VERY FEW... but some."

"My point's more that your sponsors might expect me to be a Dunmer, and won't react well when they see I'm an Imperial. What did you tell them you saved me from? Did that lowly thug become a herd of rampaging kagouti in your retelling?"

Dimartani drew himself up, his odd eye quivering in its socket. "I would NEVER lie about the kill." Then he relaxed. "I am confident that they will take my previous service into account. I do APPRECIATE your help on this matter."

"I'm always happy to help, as long as it doesn't cost me anything."

He laughed. "Your ACTIONS belie your words! You did not need to help Synda. Some might argue that you should have let her DIE."

"A momentary lapse of judgment," she muttered, wrapping her cloak more tightly around her body. Gods, it was cold.

"Morrowind does not forgive lapses."

"Right. Which is why you're betting everything in the hopes that Great House Redoran forgives you."

Dimartani grimaced. "Uh, FAIR POINT, I guess."

The silt strider let out a piercing wail that shook the entire shell as it neared the port. The pilgrim at the back picked up his bag and uttered a prayer of thanks for the safe journey. Daria leaned over for another look outside, but this time, turned her gaze down to the trackless gray beneath the silt strider. Nothing but dust and ash for miles.

It'd be so easy to disappear in a place like this.

She wondered why that idea appealed to her so much.

Musical Closer - Curve in the Old I-9, by Ozma

This post has been edited by WellTemperedClavier: Dec 1 2024, 06:29 PM

[Acadian]

By the Three! Daria’s really going native! Riding a silt strider, looking for her bug hat, using a chitin carrying case for her glasses. . . .

Ald’ruhn does indeed seem really different from Balmora. And Daria’s going to try and help Dimartini get back in good with House Redoran.

[SubRosa]

Daria is off on an adventure with Mr. Dimartino? ExCUSE me, MR deMARTINo?

I am glad to see that Daria's wit has not deserted her, even if her good sense has.

So its off to Old Ruin, I mean Ald'Ruhn. Daria gets to see the biggest crab shell ever.

Mom of course says all the right things. Not that it will mitigate the way Daria feels one bit. It never does.

So now I am wondering if Dimartino quit his teaching job to go back to work full time as a henchmen for House Redoran? Sorry, I have been listening to Kill James Bond, so the term henchmen is on my mind. They even postulate that you recruit them by calling 1-900-Hench...

I liked the way you illustrated House Redoran's beliefs echoed through their architecture.

Ahh, so Mr. Dimartino is hoping that he can get back in Redoran's good graces, thanks to his timely slayage of the goon who had menaced Daria. Hopefully they will overlook the Daria's round ears, pale complexion, and sparkling personality and decide to take him back in spite of saving her!

[Renee]

I was about to say: that really sounds like she's in a precarious position now, doing something which 1)> she doesn't want to and 2)> is dangerous. But at LEAST the TEACHER who TALKS like THIS is with her.

Okay... Ald'ruhn. Guess that's not so bad. At first I was thinking they're going way off to Tel Vos or something. 🌋 Seriously, though.

Bug shell hat! Yah, I was wondering where her new one is. I remember something happened to the first one she bought.

What did you tell them you saved me from? Did that lowly thug become a herd of rampaging kagouti in your retelling?”

Hee hee!!!

Today's song is by Ozma. New band for me. Pretty stark opening. Definitely matches the sadness poor Daria's feeling. But then the song kicks in. That's more like an inner rage. Nice, I like this music.

This post has been edited by Renee: Apr 30 2023, 03:10 PM