New Life and Saturalia, Celebrating Chorrol's 20th Anniversary Options

[Acadian]

Burnt Sierra was kind enough to remind us that Chorrol is fast approaching 20 years old. In order to celebrate, he urged our writers to prepare and offer stories with a New Life Celebration theme.

Though this entry is more Saturalia than New Life, we figured that was close enough. For those not familiar with Buffy’s adventures in the Second Era, Mirri Elendis is Buffy’s Dunmeri sellshield, and Buffy serves as healer and damage dealer for Mirri. The pair of adventuresses literally depend on each other to stay alive. I think this single episode Saturalia story helps showcase the resultant friendship.

*

The Gift Exchange

As the Bosmer presented a bottle for Mirri’s inspection, I smiled.

Mirri’s eyes flew open wide. “Is that . . . Blue Aedral?!?”

“Yes, milady,” replied the tavern maid.

Mirri said, “Blue Aedral is produced in such tiny batches, I never expected a pub in Malabal Tor - so far from the West Weald - would carry a wine so posh and exotic.”

“And you’d be right,” the Bosmer lass stated. “Your friend here provided this bottle.” With that she proceeded to uncork the wine, fill two goblets and left us.

I lifted my goblet. “Happy Saturalia, my friend!”

Mirri returned my sentiment with, “And a profitable New Life for our adventuring partnership in the coming year.”

The wine was indeed excellent – as most West Weald reds were. Mirri, however, absolutely moaned in ecstasy as she sipped it. Finally, she commented, “Blue Aedral is considered by many to be the finest wine in all of Tamriel. Who’d you have to sleep with to get your hands on a bottle?”

I chuckled. “No one. . . but I did have to fight for it.”

“My pocket healer fighting without her sellshield? Now there’s a story I want to hear!”

“I wanted to get you a really nice wine for Saturalia,” I began, “and my research took me to Skingrad. The wine merchant there was quite informative and recommended Blue Aedral – but had none in stock. Instead, she sent me to the source – Dellinoi Winery.” I paused for another sip, and to privately lament that Tamika would not start her winery for another 700 years.

The tavern maid returned with some fresh bread and cheese.

The smell apparently summoned my nixad familiar, Willow, from the mage pouch at my hip. She investigated the wine but rejected it in favor of a small piece of cheese. “Once Superian and I got to the winery,” I continued, “we learned that this year’s entire batch of Blue Aedral was only four cases. Such a small supply rendered it incredibly valuable, so the winery’s owner, Orissa Dellinoi, was personally accompanying the caravan transporting it to Skingrad. I had to prove to the winery that my intentions were honorable before they would even discuss the secret route taken. My aura of Holy Light as a paladin did the trick though and, armed with the knowledge of their pathing, I set off after the caravan.”

“It would seem you found the secretive procession and managed to somehow coax them out of a bottle,” remarked Mirri after savoring another sip. “But where did the fighting come in?”

“Well,” I continued, “I located the caravan, but they had been hijacked by bandits who somehow knew both their route and precise nature – including the value - of their cargo. Orissa’s dog and I tracked the bandits into a nearby cave – that’s where the fighting came in. I found some correspondence on the bandit leader’s corpse. Seems it was an inside job, with the beans – or grapes in this case – spilled by Orissa’s own caravan master! The bandits were actually led by a former vintner who had gone out of business several years ago. Quite the sordid affair but, with the bandits dead, wine recovered and the turncoat securely bound in the back of the winery’s wagon, Orissa figured the Skingrad magistrate’s job would be easy. She offered me the now vacant position of Dellinoi Winery caravan master but I managed to talk her into this bottle of Blue Aedral instead.”

“Well-done, partner!” exclaimed Mirri. “What a thoughtful gift, and righteously obtained.”

I smiled. “Orissa’s dog was bigger than I, and quite helpful at protecting me from the bandits as I healed him and damaged them. That said though, he was nowhere near the sellshield that you are.”

“Good to hear I shall not be replaced by a dog,” joked Mirri. She lifted the flap on her thief’s pouch and, as she fished around inside, added, “Oh, I got you something too.” She then produced two combs and handed them to me.

As soon as they touched my hand, I knew they were enchanted. Holding them up to my nose and taking a sniff to confirm another suspicion, I said, “Sandalwood! It makes for absolutely the best combs.” Willow knew what combs were for and joined me in carefully examining them. “What is the enchantment?” I inquired.

“The one with longer teeth lengthens your hair a bit each time you pull it through,” replied Mirri. “Similarly, the one with shorter teeth decreases the length of your hair when used. I know you like to change your hairstyle frequently, so now you can readily alter its length as well. Talking Dagail into enchanting the combs was easy once I told her who they were for.”

I freed my ponytail and, as I was about to try one of the combs, Willow took exception and asserted herself as my stylist. Hovering around my head with the shorter-toothed comb in her tiny hands, she parted my hair on one side and ran the comb through it until she was satisfied.

Summoning a small looking glass revealed that I now had a bobbed style that fell no lower than the corners of my jaw – rather reminiscent of how Praxedes Rousseau, the Order of the Lamp’s palatinus, wore her hair. “Nice job, Willow. . . although tomorrow I think we might try a pair of waist length braids.”

Mirri chuckled. “I think you two will have great fun.”

“These combs certainly open possibilities,” I mused. “In fact, I shouldn’t be surprised if Willow tries her hand on your hair as well. And Superian’s mane. . . and maybe her tail. Thank you for the thoughtful gift!”

[Lena Wolf]

What a lovely story, Acadian!

And here is my contribution, or rather Geralt's, about the dangers of driving under the influence... Well, don't look at me! He insisted!!

Saturalia in Morthal

"Why is your hair so white, then, Geralt?" A burly Redguard leaned over the table at the inn in Morthal, staring at a tall fellow with a tell-tale scar over his face and the other customers turned to look. "Are you part-elf or did the forest spiders scare you when you were little?" The Redguard grinned with a challenge in his eyes. "You can tell us, we won't laugh!"

"And you won't, I guarantee you," Geralt replied lazily, refilling his mug with mead. "Might wet your trousers, but you won't laugh."

"Ah! Ah! He thinks he is a Nord!!" The Redguard jumped up, ready for a fight. "Come on then, put them up!" He started dancing with his fists in front of his face.

Yennefer turned to look at him, not even trying to suppress a grin.

"Why don't you oblige, darling, it is, after all, Saturalia. Tell us about your white hair," she said in that sensual tone that was more suited to asking him to take his clothes off. He shot her a glance, picturing just that, no doubt, and realising that she might turn him away later on if he didn't tell the story. He shook his head and cleared his throat, and the inn went quiet around him.

"Sit down, Sid, I am not fighting you," Geralt waved at the Redguard who sighed with disappointment, but sat down. "I am not part-elf, I don't think so, although my sister tells me I have some distant High Elf uncle... so may be I am part-elf after all, but no more than any of you here," he glared at everyone at the inn, seeing anticipation in their faces. "Well, I could simply tell you that my hair went white during the Trial of the Grasses, but that would be boring, although true... And no, forest spiders don't scare me... can't stand them, but they don't scare me... So... let's see..." He shot a glance at Yennefer, begging for a hint as to which story to tell, but she simply smiled at him and kicked his shin – get on with it. "Alright then," Geralt smirked. "Seeing how it is Saturalia and we get free ale and mead... you are all going to get pissed until you pass out, no doubt. Which is why I shall tell you a cautionary tale about the dangers of driving while under the influence!"

"What?! No!" Several people cried out in indignation and booed.

"You can boo when I am finished," Geralt glared at them. "Now, listen up."

...

It was a cold winter day just before Saturalia, as it happens, a few years ago... well, quite a few years ago, but it doesn't matter. I had a contract on a kraken... or rather, the contract giver was calling it a kraken, but in fact he just wanted a squid. Laymen can't tell a difference between a rabbit and a hare, never mind a kraken and a squid, and he kept going on and on about this kraken living in a local lake... which was my first clue because the kraken does not live in lakes. But the kraken would pay better than a squid, and so I did not argue.

The contract giver wanted its ink sacks, which was the second clue of his incredible gullibility because the kraken does not use ink... but squids do. So it was all fitting together nicely, and off I went to the lake to fish for the squid and call it a kraken.

Since I believed that it was a squid, I brought a sack full of fish and started throwing some into the water to see whether the squid was at home. The fish vanished, so I figured it was. Now, squids are surprisingly clever creatures, even though they have no skulls to keep the brain in... What..? You don't need a skull? Huh? I never knew... well, anyhow... hmm... this does explain a few things...

Don't interrupt! The mead is already confusing enough.

But I have a skull, see, and so I outsmarted the squid. I obviously used a net, with some fish entangled in it as bait, and when the squid went for it, it too got entangled, and while it was trying to free itself, I zapped it a few times, and lo and behold, I had a flaccid squid, still glowing from all the magic. So no, zapping your friend does not make him stand up... whoever told you this, wanted the girl for himself, no doubt.

Don't interrupt!

So I started pulling in the net while the squid was still out of it, and I had to hurry because it wasn't yet dead. Well, I ain't a mage, alright?! I zapped it, but I could not kill it with magic, but that has never been a problem before, no squid ever survived being cut in two. Yeah, that's where the sword comes in... wise guy...

Anyhow... everything was going well, I got the squid ashore, sliced it up and got its ink sacks and was just about to leave, when the lake started boiling and a kraken rose from it. Well, I never! Was that the kraken that the client was talking about? Did I just get the squid all for nothing? And what was the kraken doing in a lake?! Yes, I was surprised, and no, my hair was already white by then... and it would not have gone white just because I'd seen a kraken...

Well, the kraken flipped its tentacles at me and dived back into the lake. Now I had to know what was going on! Got a row boat from the fishermen, threw the squid into it and set off to the middle of the lake. If it was a real kraken, then fresh squid would be a good bait. But a kraken is even cleverer than a squid, although still has no skull, but they stalk their prey, even if it is a dead squid, so may be they aren't that clever after all – why stalk a dead squid? But never mind...

If I have to keep talking, I need more mead... or ale...

So... where was I? Oh yes, ale... err... boat in the middle of the lake... Yeah, that's it. So I dangled the tentacles of the squid in the water by way of a bait, but had it secured to the boat... as well as you can secure a dead squid... but I tried. And I waited.

It was late in the year, it was cold, and the night had fallen in the meantime, with the mist floating over the lake – that damp getting right under the collar and to all other places that should not be mentioned in polite company... which means I could full well do it here... but I won't... anyway... I had no mead, but I had rum, and I had to keep warm...

Yes, I can hold my drink!! What tattoo of a big-boobed woman..? Not again..!! Oh... well... anyhow... that is a different story entirely! Don't interrupt.

Although... you aren't too far off with them boobs... Need more ale here...

And so I sat there and sat there, cold and damp, and my rum was running low too, which was the real problem! I started wondering whether it was worth the wait and whether I should just leave and bring those ink sacks to the client and see if he'd be happy with that... and forget all about the kraken. Only I could not forget about that... a kraken should not be in a lake! And even drunk... hick... well... I wasn't drunk, strictly speaking... but under the influence... but even then, I still could not leave that mystery well alone.

Finally the kraken started making waves. That is, something started tearing at the squid, but it was secured to the boat, and so the boat started to move. I wasn't worried particularly, the lake wasn't that big, and hey, I can swim... yes, even drunk... But the thing about a kraken – a real kraken, that is – is that it cannot resist a good bite out of a boat... Bastard.

The next thing I knew I was on the bottom of the lake.

This calls for mead! Or ale... whichever...

I should have been dead. Because it was a real kraken, believe it or not... that lake had a fissure on the bottom, which I did not know, it was one of those deep cracks... lochs, they call them... aye... and it pulled me down with my boat and sat there, staring at me... boobs and all...

What..? What boobs..? Well, the boobs of the kraken, of course... Haven't you been listening?! Got any rum?

I was not dead because some witch conjured an air bubble around me. And was staring at me from the outside... a mermaid she was... hence the boobs... No, I ain't drunk!!

The kraken was her pet, like... Well, we had fun... I think... hmm... Was that when I got that tattoo with the big-boobed woman..? Nah... that was a different story... I'm sure... hmm..

Anyway. So there you have it. Don't drink and drive, even if it's a boat on a very small lake! It never ends well... or at least not like you were expecting...