Since posting Freija's story I've created a poster that I'll be putting up in a couple of places. The Red Dragon Club will get a clean copy as decoration, and the Gweden Lodge will get a copy that's been defaced by a street urchin with a piece of charcoal.

But on to the next interview...


---------

Nelrene

Tsarrina brought in the next one proudly. "This one would like you to meet our Mazken," she said.

Nelrene was as big as Prizna, but thankfully not as naked. She wore a dark satin dress decorated with black lace and fringes, with a wide hooped skirt. A plunging neckline fought for attention with her glowing eyes.

Did all Daedra have eyes that glowed? Prizna's were red, and Nelrene's were blue, but they both shone with the same unworldly light. He didn't ask, yet. But he did ask about her race. Mazken, Tsarrina had called her.

Nelrene explained that the Mazken came from Sheogorath's realm, the Shivering Isles. There was another Daedric race there, too - the Aureals, also called Golden Saints. Nelrene didn't understand why Sheogorath needed them when he already had the Mazken, but she bowed to his will. Nelrene started to explain:

The Mazken are all completely loyal to their Lord Sheogorath, but our loyalty to mortals has to be earned. For me, the Champion of Cyrodiil did that even before I knew that he had become the Madgod.

Syl had enough of Sheogorath's favour that we served her too, but it was starting to wane. She was his Duchess of Dementia by virtue of having slain the previous Duke, and she was permanently in fear that she'd have the same fate. Of course she would eventually, those are Sheogorath's rules.

She was supposed to just get on with her job as Duchess, and leave the succession issue to the Madgod's wisdom, but that wasn't Syl's way. She wasted all her time looking for conspiracies against her, and creating them in the process.

I could sense that she had overstayed her welcome as Duchess, and that I would serve the Madgod better by helping to remove her. When Muurine began to plot against her, I took my place in the conspiracy and did what I could to help advance it.

Muurine told me it was all about Syl's little fling with Thadon, the Duke of Mania, whom Muurine hated. It seemed important to her, and perhaps it was, as another sign that the era was ending and the Greymarch beginning. I didn't know, but I agreed to her plan. I didn't care about the petty excuse they had for wanting Syl's death, but I knew her time was coming.

I provided Ma'zaddha with a weapon, and demanded that he find someone to use it against Syl. Anya Herrick, Syl's handmaiden, was a good candidate, as she could get close to her. He had contacted Anya, and was beginning to bring her round to our side when the Lord Sheogorath himself spoiled it all. He sent the Champion to Syl, to become her Grand Inquisitor. It seems it was too soon to dispose of Syl, and the conspiracy was not to succeed.

I did not realize that until it failed. First the Champion, and Herdir, Syl's personal torturer, interrogated Syl's steward Kithlan, and found out about Anya. Then Anya directed him to Ma'zaddha. The Khajiit held out, despite the attentions of Herdir, and the trail could have ended there. But I foolishly tried to keep the conspiracy alive. I spoke to Ma'zaddha late at night in Crucible and told him to find someone else to replace Anya.

I didn't know that the Inquisitor was listening to us. He confronted the Khajiit after I'd left and got him to agree to get more names. Someone else overheard them. Ma'zaddha was murdered, and the Inquistor found the sword I'd given him in his cupboard. I knew the conspiracy was over when he showed it to me. I sent him to Muurine. I hoped she could convince him that it was justified.

Syl was delighted to have the plot unravelled, and took great delight in executing Muurine herself. Then she turned her spite on me, and had me sent to to Corpserot Prison.

The imprisonment itself was of no concern. I'd have to fight my way out past the Grummites, but a Mazken is immortal, and my death would just be a delay in reaching freedom. But that snake Syl had another card to play. She told me she'd asked Lord Sheogorath to make me mortal. As in no return to the Wellspring. As in dying from diseases, permanently. That kind of mortal!

I didn't know it was a lie. I stayed cowering in the cell until the Champion came to get me. He had to bring me some Amber armor and weapons before I'd venture out. I didn't trust anything else. Syl had no influence in Bliss, so Amber should be trustworthy.

If I'd stopped to think about it, I'd have realised that Syl would have killed me as soon as I became mortal. Since she hadn't, she couldn't and I wasn't, but I was too scared to reason clearly.

We didn't encounter any Grummites inside the prison, as they'd all fallen when he came in, but there were some waiting for us as we emerged. I forgot my supposed mortality when I got into battle, my training just took over. But the fear all came back afterward. He healed my wounds, which were minor anyway, but he couldn't take away the fear. The walk back through Dementia was a long and frightening one for me.

He brought me into Tamriel, through the door in Niben Bay. I still felt unsafe, even here.

He told me Syl was dead, and he'd killed her himself, so he could be certain of that. That she had lied to me about being mortal. That he was now the Madgod, after defeating Jyggalag. That's when I stopped believing him again.

He had to take me to Sheogorath's Shrine before I'd change my mind. When Haskill's voice confirmed all he'd told me I was so ashamed. I had disbelieved the true Madgod.

He understood. It was because I thought for myself, instead of just blindly waiting for Sheogorath's direction, that he'd thought me worth rescuing from prison in the first place.

Now he wanted me to think for myself again, and consider Gweden. I had a few questions first.

If I died here in Tamriel, how could I return when the Wellspring was in the Isles? He told me the door on the Island would remain, and I could return to the Shrine here too.

How could I be here in Tamriel, where none of the other Mazken could follow? That was harder to explain. Actually any of them could come here if they were invited, but they wouldn't, because they believed they couldn't. I believed I could, and he'd invited me, so I did. Especially now, Daedric princes weren't allowed into Tamriel, but he was the Madgod, and that didn't stop him returning. He belonged here, and I could too, if I wanted.

Would I really be welcome at Gweden? I had always been a guard, a soldier, an authority figure. He told me about Silanu, and that got me even more confused. I couldn't understand why anyone would pay her to do that. But then I remembered how strange the people in the Isles had been, and it wasn't so unusual after all.

And I really did find a welcome here. If there's any trouble, my training comes back to the surface, but that's rare. And my habit of ordering mortals around isn't the disadvantage I thought it would be. Apparently some guys do like to be told what to do. Of course, what I'm telling them to do has changed a bit.

So put down that pen and notebook, and help me with these lacings.

"How may I serve?" he asked her. Tsarrina stopped them. He had another interview or two before that.

Great poster for the Arena.

Goodness. Gweden sure stables a wide variety. Something for every taste. I’m really hoping there’s a Golden Saint in there somewhere! Or maybe a flame atronach – that would be hot. Eeep! No spider daedra though.

I was amazed at the detailed background into Sheo's SI realm in this - and loved the Poster, you have some artistic talent !! Awesome Write !!

That's actually quite simple in GIMP or Photoshop. Take a screenshot, trim out the bit you need, run an edge detect filter, then colorize. It's not very far different from part of the process for making a screen shot into a load screen.

Which reminds me. I need a load screen for entering the Red Dragon Club....

And of course I made one

These last two stories have been my favorites for their rich backgrounds and tons of detail. Also for provoking numerous giggles and snorts. Are you sure it wasn’t a drunken Nord who embellished Freija’s poster?

The Red Dragon Club quests look great! I especially enjoyed reading about Uriel’s Cousin. It’s fun watching the intrigue grow.

Nord, street urchin, where's the difference?

You have an awesome talent !! Nice load screen !!

@Acadian: A Golden Saint? Ask and you shall recieve, if it's at Sanguine's shrine, and you do a quest for him first.

@Grits: Hopefully a few giggles in this one, too.

@mALX: No pictures in this one, and I've created a thread in the Mod Announcements section for the ongiong changes, so I can keep the future presents out of the present, in future.


The auto-censor had a field day with this episode, so if I missed anything it did, let me know. Or if you know an acceptable alternative to [woman of negotiable virtue].

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

Goldie

"When the Champion returned from the Shivering Isles, he told this one all about the Saints and Seducers," said Tsarrina to the reporter. "So when Nelrene came here, this one told him we simply must have an Aureal as well, to preserve the balance."

"To be honest, she just wanted to find out what one looked like. If that one proved to be a good fit for this establishment, that was pure gravy."

"So you'd best talk to Goldie, next, and you can see for yourself."

Goldie was everything the reporter had expected when he first arrived, but more so. This was his vision of the ultimate [woman of negotiable virtue]. A golden image of a perfect woman. Seductive, but aloof and detached. Dazzlingly beautiful, and the smooth gold skin, and glowing golden eyes, made her almost unbearably so. Out of reach, unless you paid for the privilege. And you'd pay anything for Goldie.

She'd had a lot of practice, being immortal, so it wasn't too surprising. She wasn't naked like Prizna, as that would give him an excuse to look away, but her outfit hid only enough to make him want what it concealed. A calculated balance that had been perfected over a long existence.

What he hadn't expected, was that she was not from Sheogorath's realm at all, but from Sanguine's.

"I'm not like the other Aureals," she told him. "It is true that I have little or no respect for males until they earn it, but they can do that in my bed. I'm not too hard to please, either."

The look Tsarrina gave him suggested that was an understatement.

"But how was a man going to get anywhere near me if he hadn't already proven himself?" she asked. "I desperately wanted them, but they were all unproven, and thus unworthy. I was rejecting them all until Sanguine took charge. I bowed to his will, of course. He is a Daedric Prince, after all."

"He told me to be his [woman of negotiable virtue] To simply obey him, and let him choose for me. To start with, I despised the men, but I loved what they did to me, They were as impersonal to me as I was to them, just a means to an end."

"But some were better than the others. They managed to engage more of me, to get me more involved. To find my preferences and exploit them, as I did theirs. Was it a contest, or a partnership? Did they care about me, or just getting good value for what they paid? I was intrigued, as well as stimulated, by Sanguine's game."

"And how did I come to be playing it here? The Champion asked for an Aureal, and Sanguine provided me."

Goldie began her tale of the Champion.

He had come to Sanguine's Shrine here in Cyrodiil to petition the Daedric Prince. Yes, there was an Aureal [woman of negotiable virtue] for Gweden if a small task could be performed in exchange. I was summoned and presented to the Champion for his approval. I was on offer if he could succeed. Sanguine didn't have to ask me, he knew I'd jump at this.

A Daedric Prince's task is never as easy as it first appears. Sanguine simply asked him to fetch the undergarments of Ulene Hlervu. What he didn't tell him, of course, was what he'd have to do to get them. The Champion told me all about it when he got back, and Sanguine filled in the parts he missed out.

He'd met Ulene before, and she'd been quite pleasant on that occasion. She'd told him where to find Azura's Shrine and been very surprised when he'd come back with her Star. She'd always considered worshipping at the shrine a complete waste of time, as you never get anything good from a Daedra Lord. True, he had the Star, but only after a gruelling fight with a cave full of Vampires, so her opinion didn't change much.

But Ulene and the Champion didn't exactly have the kind of relationship that gave him ready access to her underwear. He'd considered his options.

He could attempt to improve her disposition to the point necessary to remove them. Not only might that be beyond his Speechcraft's capabilities, but he was trying to recruit me, not her. Silanu was already at Gweden, so he didn't need another Dunmer.

He could sneak into her room at the castle and steal some. He had the impression that Sanguine didn't want stolen goods, and the ones he wanted were those she was wearing.

He could just tell her the truth, and see if she believed it. She'd been totally straight with him about the Daedric Shrines, so it seemed to be the best alternative. And it was.

Although she was a bit reluctant at first, she admitted that there was a good reason for Sanguine to be interested in her underwear, as he clearly knew all about the Count. The Champion didn't, so she explained further.

The Count had always been a philanderer, even when his late wife was alive. Lysatha didn't seem to mind, most likely because she wasn't entirely faithful herself. She was as young as Ulene, and Ulene understood that.

The Count, however, liked to mark his conquests by collecting souvenirs, specifically undergarments. No, he didn't have any of hers, and she was wearing particularly thick and unsexy flannel ones to help ward him off. They were probably the ones Sanguine wanted, because if she gave those up, it would be proof the Count had been "cured".

When I asked Sanguine about that, he said she'd got it exactly right!

The Champion made some discreet inquiries around town. Some of the answers weren't as discreet as his questions, and they painted a lurid picture of Count Andel Indarys. There were a few women who admitted to being flattered by the Count's attention, but complained that he'd been less interested in the contents of their lace and ribbons than the garments themselves. Others had refused the Count's advances, but found they'd lost items from their laundry afterward.

So if he wasn't doing it to keep a tally. Ulene wondered if the Count was just collecting, or wearing them himself? Which ever it was, she decided, it was time to stop it. If the Champion could steal the Count's collection back, she'd make sure they were all returned to their owners, and let all the women know what happened. Maybe if they all knew, the Count would be embarrassed enough to stop. Meanwhile she was going back to her room to see if anything was missing.

On his way into the Castle, the Champion met Garrus Darelliun, the guard captain. He knew Garrus from an earlier visit, when he'd helped him to expose Ulrich Leland, the prior captain, and his fines racket. He asked Garrus if he knew anything about the Count's panty fetish. No, he didn't, but it he found it particularly odd, because the late Countess never wore any.

Garrus looked the other way when he entered the private apartments, but he used his Ring of Shadows anyway. No point in the other guards getting involved. There was a chest behind the Count's bed containing what he was looking for, but he wasn't expecting the quantity he found!

Ulene was surprised to be talking to an invisible Champion, but he wasn't taking his ring off while he was carrying a huge pile of women's panties! She understood, and led him to where he could put them down. When she saw how many there were, she was even more astounded.

She picked through the heap until she found some she recognized as her own. That confirmed for her that the Count had been stealing! She held up the dainty scrap of lace and asked the Champion if these were the ones Sanguine wanted. She already knew the answer, she just wanted him to know that the ones she was surrendering weren't her usual style.

Ulene slipped into the next room and made the swap. She came back out with a large sack and stuffed the rest of the pile into it. Then she handed him his prize, which was almost as heavy as all the others put together. I saw them when he brought them back to the shrine. They were almost thick enough to wear for armor!

Sanguine wanted me to try them on. He said he wondered if they'd manage to make even me look undesirable. I told him he already knew the answer, so why spoil the Champion's opinion of me?

He laughed, and told me I was free to leave with the Champion if I wished.

I took that as a direct order, because I wanted to. I would inspect this Gweden Lodge on behalf of Sanguine, and see if it would meet with his approval. I wasn't going to let the Champion know that joining him was my own choice, even if I did think he'd done well. He had a bit more persuading to do, I hoped.

The reporter asked her about the name "Goldie". Sanguine had called her that, and it suited her purposes well. It made her anonymous and familiar at the same time. She'd almost forgotten her real name, and he didn't need to know it. Goldie was what she was and who she was now.
"Do you think you'll ever return to Sanguine's realm?" asked the reporter.

"Only when Tamriel runs out of men." she replied.

Golden Girl Graces Gweden Gang! Golden Globes Galore!

Woman of negotiable virtue! My chuckles grew greater each time I read that!

And the undulating saga of Ulene’s undies! The things our poor Champion does!

I’ve resorted to “strumpet” and “harlot,” but they just don’t have the same zing as [woman of negotiable virtue].

Our hero conducts a legendary panty raid!! Nice to see Sanguine taking an interest. Ulene’s little I-don’t-usually-wear-granny-panties cracked me up.




ETA: Just saw "Golden Globes." LOL, Acadian!!

*

GOLDIE! (donks forehead) [donk] - I should have know it would be a Golden Saint !! That shows how fast my mind isn't working today !!

Tramp
Trashy
Streetwalker
Lady of the Evening
Lady of Easy Virtue
Hooker
Horker Swallower (or Hider)
Worshippers of Dibella

Love the whole section about how to get into the pants, but this line had me roaring:




Loved this chapter !!!


*

Trollop

@Acadian: no Golden Globes this time. WIll Golden curls do?

@Grits: no granny-pants either

@mALX: "Worshipper of Dibella" would only get me confused with my own Warrior Nuns, but I'll probably use most of the others at some time.

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

Meena

"So," said Darwen. "Do you think you can handle three?"

"We're only little" offered the girl with the long blonde curls. He hadn't met her yet. She looked young, or was that just because she was small, like all the Breton women?

The third was Virgilia, who wasn't exactly little. Not in the important places. But she was a lot shorter than the Daedra women, or the Nords, or Sugar, and definitely smaller than Silanu!

It was just that he was comparing her to a petite Breton and a slender Wood elf. She was probably as young as the Breton, and still as giggly as a schoolgirl. That could just be an act, of course, but he liked it.

She was wearing a dress this time, at least for the moment. That didn't fit the schoolgirl image, as it was cut to emphasise her shape, and show off her breasts. It was a rich velvet, with a deep blue color that matched her eyes, and a texture that invited his hands.

But Virgilia didn't want all of his attention - yet. She wanted to introduce him to Meena, the blonde. Meena was a diminutive of Hermine. Hermine Alliot, of the Harcane Grove. She'd have a special tale to tell him tomorrow, so they wouldn't spoil that now. The only thing they'd reveal was that she learned about sex from watching wild animals, so the others were teaching her all the other ways. He'd help with her education, wouldn't he?

"All the other ways?" he asked "How many are we talking about?"

"More than we have time for, but we can cover the basics tonight, and see how far we get," smiled Darwen, slipping out of her buckskins. "Help Meena with her dress, she's still re-learning buttons, too."

They were round the back, where nobody can comfortably reach for themselves. He'd always suspected they were put there so that help would be required. Women are just so devious! He let Meena undo his buttons in return. She did seem unused to them, but at least she could see what she was doing with these.

Darwen and Virgilia were waiting for them on the bed. They took turns to show Meena what to do, and she copied them. Some of the positions were new to him, so Meena wasn't the only one getting an education.

---

As it happened, the reporter's first interview the next day was with Meena, the cute little Breton with the intriguing mystery past they'd alluded to last night. He was eager to have it all revealed to him. Her story, he remininded himself. She'd revealed everything else most thoroughly the night before.

When I met "the Boss" I was a virgin. I didn't have any choice in the matter, I was guarded night and day to keep me that way.

You see, Hircine wanted a Unicorn horn for his collection, and they're rare, to say the least. It's not easy to create a Unicorn, and it takes a long time. You have to start with a white horse, and keep it in close contact with a virgin while the horn grows. That takes years.

I didn't know any of that to start with, or none of my story would have happened. I was maybe ten at the time, travelling with my parents down towards Bravil, when we were attacked by bandits. Someone grabbed me and carried me off, and I lost sight of my parents.

They took me to a shrine in the woods, and showed me a white colt that looked as nervous as I was. They told me they wanted me to look after the horse, and I'd be able to ride him when he got a little bigger. If I wouldn't do what they said, then they had some wolves that needed a meal.

I went over to the horse, and he seemed to calm down when I touched him. Someone handed me an apple to feed him, but no knife to cut it with. It was too big to feed him it all at once, so I had to bite pieces off.

They led us to a little valley in the woods where there was a small stream for water, and plenty of grazing for the horse. I got a bedroll on the ground, and a sack with some bread and cheese in it They left me there with the horse, and walked off, back towards the shrine.

I started to run off after them, but a Minotaur blocked my path! I was terrified, of course, but the creature didn't do anything but stand in the way. I walked back to where the horse was nibbling the grass. The Minotaur watched me, but didn't follow.

Over the next few days I discovered that there were at least three of the Minotaurs patrolling around the edge of the grove. If I tried to leave they'd be there to turn me back. The same for the horse. He couldn't leave either.

Eventually I got up the courage to try running past them. The Minotaur was faster than I was, and carried me back, kicking and yelling to the middle of the grove, where he gave me a beating to discourage any further attempts.

The Unicorn didn't try to escape until much later. He was big enough by then for me to ride on his back, but I wasn't riding when he tried to run off. He'd be faster without me. His horn had started to show too, but it was still just a little bony bump on his forehead, and no use as a weapon. He was quick, but the Minotaurs seemed to know where he was headed, and knocked him down.

He was frightened more than hurt, and ran back to me for comfort. He'd do that many more times in the years we were there. The Minotaurs never did us any real damage, but it always hurt.

I was growing, too, and my clothes were getting worn out and tight. My shoes hurt my feet, so I stopped wearing them, and then I wore holes through my stockings. My blouse wouldn't fasten any more, and my skirt was tprn in several places. Pretty soon, I'd stopped wearing anything.

A fresh sack of food would arrive while I slept each night, and I had hoped that new clothes would come the same way. Apparently I didn't need to wear anything to look after the Unicorn, so I didn't get any.At the rate my hair was growing, perhaps that would cover me soon!

It wasn't just my hair growing. I was starting to change shape, too. And there were other changes. I could see the horse becoming a Unicorn before my eyes. I wondered if I was turning into something else, too.

Just a woman, it turned out. That's a bit scary, if there's nobody to explain what's happening.

I didn't know much about sex, of course. My parents had only told me what I wasn't to let boys do to me. At that age, I hadn't a clue why they'd want to do that anyway. Out here in nature every day, I'd watched wolves, or deer, a few times, so I was starting to get the picture.

The males always seemed to know when the females were ready for them by smell. I could see him sniiffing the air, and he'd go trotting off towards her with, how shall I put this? Increased interest?

My own cycles seemed to cause some sniffing, too. My Unicorn would flare his nostrils, and sometimes he'd scare me with how he reacted. The Minotaurs sampling the air were even more of a worry. as they're half-human. Except that they had nothing to react with. No wonder they were such a bad-tempered bunch!

Riding the Unicorn was making me feel different, too. The more excited it made me, the faster the Unicorn's horn seemed to grow. It was getting quite long now, and he was becoming more aggressive to the other animals around the grove. He was always so gentle with me though.

One day, I found a man's dead body near the edge of the grove. He was wearing leather, and carrying a bow, but they were all useless now. He'd been badly hacked with an axe, it appeared. Just like the Minotaurs were carrying. One of them saw me and drove me away from the corpse, before he picked him up and carried him away.

I was beginning to understand it all now. The Minotaurs weren't there just as jailors for myself and the Unicorn, but also to stop the hunters from taking the prizes before they were ready. One prize was the Unicorn's horn, of course, and another was me.

I sat down and worked it all out. The Unicorn's horn had been growing really quickly recently, so obviously the older we were, the faster it grew. But there had to be a reason why they needed me here. Was it because the horn wouldn't grow if I wasn't with the Unicorn?

And then there was the question of why me, and not any other girl. Perhaps it was hard to find girls who hadn't done it?

And now the horn had grown big enough for the hunters to start coming, why was I still a prisoner? What would happen if they let me out now? Presumably the horn would stop growing, but was that all? Then it struck me. Maybe the horn would fall off and get lost! That had to be it, nothing else made sense.

But it wouldn't just be going away. It would be what I could do if I went away. That's why they kept all men away from me. Why the Minotaurs didn't have everything they were born with.

I wasn't going to let anyone kill my Unicorn, of course. That horn represented several years of my life, and so I didn't want it wasted, either. The two of us had to escape together, and find a way for me to lose my virginity without the horn getting lost in the woods.

The three Minotaurs were more than a match for us, so we'd need outside help just to get away. When another hunter approached the grove and the Minotaur started towards him, we ran over in the opposite direction and drew the other two Minotaurs with us, to stop us escaping. That left the hunter with only one Minotaur to deal with.

One was enough, especially one with an enchanted warhammer to swing. But the tactic was promising, if the right hero turned up.

And of course he did, or I wouldn't be here today. The Minotaurs fell one by one, and My Hero strode into the grove.

Well, limped, actually, because he'd not escaped totally unscathed. Fortunately, I was riding the Unicorn and he'd put away his weapons, so the Unicorn didn't attack. He was quite calm. I was the exact opposite.

My new Hero told me Hircine had sent him for the horn, and I told him everything I knew about it. He agreed with my theory about how it all worked, and said he knew just how to get the horn without harming its owner. I just had to follow him to Anvil.

I didn't know how far Anvil was, or I might not have agreed. We had to travel very carefully as we couldn't get into any fights along the way. He didn't dare draw a weapon because it would provoke the Unicorn, I didn't have any, and we didn't want the Unicorn to run off chasing anyone.

Well, eventually we arrived at the stables outside town. We put the Unicorn in a stall and closed the gate behind it. The man at the stables, Ernest, rented us a bedroll in the next stall so we could do the rest, without getting too far from the Unicorn.

The following morning, there was just an ordinary white horse in the next stall, and a horn lying on the ground. We were neither as unique as we were the day before, but I didn't regret anything. I'd do it all again, especially that last part!

That's when he told me about Gweden. I had a lot of catching up to do, and there wasn't a better place to do it. He had to go back to Hircine's shrine with the horn, but he'd see me there as soon as he returned.

Tsarrina had been told I was coming and had Juliana help me settle in. She even shared her next customer with me. As she put it "He doesn't know you're inexperienced, he's never done it before himself. Just stay one step ahead and lead him." He was a nice lad, eager to please, and exteremely grateful for everything. And why not, when he was getting two for the price of one?

And what happened to the Unicorn? I leave my white stallion down at the stables, and he's making me gold the same way I earn it. Isn't it strange how the stallions make all the money, but the men have to pay us?

What a clever and sweet adaptation of Hircine’s quest! *Sigh* If only it worked that way in the game. I’ve never ever been able to bring myself to kill that unicorn. You did a wonderful job with this one!

I loved this !! Like Acadian, I can't bring myself to kill the Unicorn either...but usually ride her instead with some wild consequences, lol. Awesome Write !!

My one trip through Cyrodiil with the unicorn ended in disaster. It got away from me and went on a killing spree. I like your unicorn (and Meena) much better! Of course, my CoC would have needed Plan B for the deflowering and dehorning. How sweet that the former unicorn gets to stay near his Meena, catching up on the action as well.

@All: Meena's quest was created because I didn't like killing off the one and only Unicorn in Cyrodiil either. So I came up with a story that lets other Unicorns exist any time they're needed, assuming you can ever find a virgin! Hircine's happy, the player's happy, and Meena's exstatic! If your Player happens to be female, Ernest is very happy, too, if a little exhausted.

(And Acadian, it does happen that way in my game, now)

Now back to minimal amendment of the vanilla game with Maeva.

------

Maeva

"Maeva was the first to join this one here at Gweden" said Tsarrina. "She's also my only part-timer"

Maeva explained to the reporter that it was because she had to work her farm the rest of the time. This was just a hobby really. Even if it was one she really enjoyed, farming was her true vocation.

I grew up on a farm, and I grew fast. Maybe it was all the exercise and good food, but I was the first girl in my class at school to fill out. That's why I'm called "The Buxom", of course. And it happened just when I was starting to rebel against parental authority, just like any kid of my age.

I could see that my new assets were getting all the boys' attention, especially the bolder ones who were starting to assert their own independence. I started hanging out with all the bad boys, much to my parents' annoyance.

It didn't stop me from doing my work on the farm. I was rebelling against my parents, not the cows, or pigs, or crops. They weren't the ones telling me what to do and what not to do. My mother did what she could, and taught me that if I wasn't going to be good, I should at least be careful. I listened to that, even if she didn't think I did.

Most of the kids I went around with grew up to be Marauders. One by one, they dropped out of school and disappeared, off to some ruin somewhere to join a band of outlaws. Soon there were hardly any interesting boys left. A lot of the other girls had caught up to me, so I wasn't the center of attention that I had been. Some of them could play the purity card, too. Bjalfi was the one guy who changed his mind and stayed, so I ended up with him kind of by default.

My parents weren't happy with my choice, but they helped set us up at Whitmond Farm, and let me have Rockshatter so I could look after myself. Obviously, they didn't expect Bjalfi to do that. It wasn't exactly dangerous there, just outside Anvil, but there were Marauders and Bandits just a bit further out from the city. I kept the mace handy, hanging over the fireplace where I could grab it in a hurry. That was as much to keep my parents quiet as anything. I didn't ever expect to use it.

Life at Whitmond was good enough to start with, but Bjalfi was one for going to the tavern in the evenings. He thought I was, too, but he didn't remember that I was always the first to leave, (with one of the men, of course). I wasn't there for the drinking, I had other things in mind, and I preferred doing it sober. And if I had to get up early to work the farm, I didn't want any hangover!

So I generally stayed at home, while he went into town for a few ales. Apparently he ran into a few of his old friends from our school days, because he came home one night, snatched Rockshatter off the mantel, and ran off out of the house with it.

I should have seen it coming, I guess. I'd complained when he came home worse for drink, especially if he couldn't perform, and he was probably feeling a bit hen-pecked. Anyway, I found out that he'd gone to join the gang at Fort Strand, just in between my farm and here.

If I'd still had Rockshatter, I'd have gone there and hauled him back out, but he'd taken it with him, and I wasn't taking them all on without any weapons. Fortunately for me, the Champion looked in at my farm on his way here to Gweden, and agreed to go get Rockshatter back for me.

Of course, he didn't know Bjalfi from the rest, so it wasn't too surprising when he came back with Rockshatter, but not my husband. He'd hauled a lot of armor and weapons back to town to sell, and the mace matched my description. He couldn't remember who he'd taken it from, but everyone in the fort was dead now.

So I was now a widow. I'd been pretty much working the farm on my own anyway, as Bjalfi wasn't a lot of help with that. He'd done odd jobs for other folks in the area, and brought in a bit of income that way. At least, that's what he told me. For all I know, he'd been taking a share from the Marauder gang he ran off to. I could survive all right on my own, but I needed a man for other reasons. I was going to have to get back to the dating game again.

The Champion had another idea. I could make a bit of extra cash at Gweden and get all the men I needed without having to find another husband. And it was close enough that I could just go there in the evening, and still put in a day's work at my own farm. They'd be good customers for my produce, too, especially when he'd recruited a few more staff.

So I came up here to see Tsarrina right away. It was sad for me to see a farm not growing anything, but a closer look at the soil told me why. You couldn't even grow weeds in that! All she could manage was a couple of flowers by the door.

It made sense that she was making the best of the situation by running a brothel instead, and she was doing a good job of that. I really liked the way she'd made the old farmhouse into a cozy nest for a bit of fun.

She showed me down to the basement, where I could sleep if I needed to. I told her that I had my own farm, and I needed to get back to it during the day, but I could help her out in the evenings. Now I had Rockshatter back, she had someone to keep the drunks in line, too. She told me the Legion Patrolman came here regularly, so that wasn't a problem.

I knew him, of course, as he'd drop by my place from time to time, especially if Bjalfi wasn't around. That sort of dedication to duty makes a woman feel safe. I suspected he was one of Tsarrina's regular customers, and I wasn't wrong.

I asked her if she ever did what I knew he liked. Tsarrina shows a lot of sharp teeth when she smiles, and that would put a lot of men off from asking. She told me she didn't but if I did, she'd be sure to let her customers know that was now available. We talked about our own likes and dislikes, I'd tried just about everything, or thought I had, but she knew more than I did. She called me an amateur, and grinned to show she was just joking.

And talk of the Daedra, who should come through the door just then, but the Legion Patrolman. He'd come by to introduce his replacement, as he was retiring. A younger man in the same uniform followed him in. Two of them, two of us. Perfect timing.

I rode back to my farm that night on the back of a Legion Horse. I don't think my legs would have carried me that far.

In TES, bad boys grow up to be marauders!

I love how this fits so perfectly right into the game regarding Maeva. A wonderful addition!

I wondered when we'd hear about Maeva the Buxom - especially since it was mentioned she would be invited in so early on, lol. Awesome Write!

I like this one a lot because it’s a solid tie to the vanilla game. It even works in Maeva’s remarks about dating again. Fun!

Back to all-new content (except for the back-story to Dark-eyes' employment) for this one. I'm rapidly running out of tales for the staff to tell the reporter, but at least there's the post-script of Miranu after that.


---------

Dark-eyes

"Why the maid's outfit? Because everybody's read the book, of course!" replied Dark-Eyes.

The reporter hadn't, so he didn't understand. Tsarrina had a copy of The Lusty Argonian Maid with her, and she passed it to him. It didn't take him long to get the point.

Of course I knew why I was being hired. Voranil even had a copy of the book on his desk when he interviewed me. I didn't have any problem with that, as long as he paid well, and treated me fairly.

I didn't ask about the size of the spear. I wouldn't have been given an honest answer anyway.

I'd heard about his frequent dinner parties, too. But I thought that was all they were. I didn't know about the skooma, then. So I was expecting to wait on the guests and serve their food, and nothing more.

The previous maid, a Dunmer called Tolisi Girith, had done just that, and probably wasn't doing anything special for Voranil. Maknok gro-Coblug and his wife Rogmesh hadn't told me about anything extra when they suggested I apply for the position. Maknok was the groundskeeper at Riverview, and Rogmesh was the cook, so they were busy elsewhere when dinner was served. Only Tolisi would have known what happened at the parties, and she was dead now.

The Coblugs told me how she died. They'd all been in the Newlands Lodge one Sundas, as they usually were, taking their one short break in the week. Maknok and Rogmesh were sitting at a table near the stairs talking to the other Orcs, and Tolisi and Tanasa were at the bar, talking to Dervera Romalen, who ran the place. Tanasa Arano was the charwoman and also a Dunmer.

Then the Hero of Kvatch came in, the same man who's now the Champion of Cyrodiil, and our boss. They heard shouts from the bar. Two women in dark, magical armor, with maces in their hands, came rushing out to attack the Hero. A watchman came in from the street and joined the fight, and the two women were soon killed. When they died, their armor disappeared in a cloud of yellow smoke, and revealed ... Tolisi and Tanasa.

They found a book on Tanasa's corpse that connected her to that Mythic Dawn cult, you know, the ones that assassinated the Emperor. Another book just like it was found when they cleared Tolisi's room. Maknok and Rogmesh picked up Tanasa's cleaning duties until a new charwoman could replace her, but Voranil needed a new maid for his parties right away. And I got the job, probably because I wasn't averse to the idea of spear-polishing.

Now let me tell you about Voranil's parties. The guests arrived one or two at a time, so we didn't have to seat them all at once. It meant longer hours for the servants that way, but it wasn't in one big rush, so we preferred it. Everyone was drinking wine, and some guests were more drunk than others.

Orintur and Eilonwy usually departed early, as did Naspia Cosma. That left just the men, and me. That's when the skooma came out. I was passed around like I was another bottle, and that made me mad. Don't get me wrong, it's not that I don't like doing it, or I wouldn't be here now. I just didn't like the way they just assumed I was available to them. I was Voranil's employee, not theirs!

But I needed the money, so I put up with it. I probably would have saved enough gold to quit before long, but the Hero heard the talk around town about Voranil's new Argonian Maid and came to see for himself. There I was, maid costume and all, just inside Riverview when he came in. I told him all about Voranil's skooma parties, and how I'd have gone completely nuts if I didn't have my amulet and all its memories.

You see, the amulet I wore was one of a pair. My best friend, Weedum-Ja, and I had bought them at the Red Diamond store in the Imperial City when we were both living and working (and having fun) there. That was in happier times before the Oblivion crisis started.

They weren't quite identical amulets. One had a blue stone, and the other a green one. but they were otherwise the same design. Neither of us could decide which we liked best, so we agreed to swap every time we met. That way we didn't have to make up our minds.

After we left the city, that didn't happen so much. Weedum-Ja went to Kvatch when her employer moved there, and I later moved in the opposite direction, to Cheydinhal. That made the amulets even more special, as we didn't see each other so often.

When I heard about the Daedra overrunning Kvatch, I had feared the worst. But the Hero told me he'd seen an Argonian woman at the refugee camp and it could be her!

I gave him the amulet I had, and told him to take it and find out if Weedum-Ja had really survived the siege. I was itching to quit that job, but I could wait a few days more for that kind of news. I was really amazed that he'd agree to do that for me, but that's what he did.

It took longer than I'd expected for him to return, but he explained why. Weedum-Ja was indeed safe, but the other amulet hadn't fared so well. She'd broken it scrambling out of a window when the Daedra arrived, and she didn't want me to see it until it had been repaired. So he'd stopped at the Red Diamond Jewelers on his way back to get it fixed.

That wasn't going to be so simple. The reddish gold that set off the jewels so well was hard to find, and Hamlof Red-Tooth didn't have any more. The only place to get it was the Abandoned Mine near the Black Marsh and Morrowind borders. Hamlof couldn't use anything else for the repairs, or the joins would show.

So he'd gone all the way out to the mine, and found it full of bandits. There were silver veins and even gold ones on the upper level, but none of them were the red gold he was looking for. That was only in one vein in a rock in the lowest level of the mine, past even more bandits.

He did find a sizeable nugget, and took it back to Hamlof. Since it was larger than Hamlof needed for the repairs, he kept the remaining gold as complete payment for his work. At least Weedum-Ja and the Hero didn't have to pay for anything. The Hero told me that he'd actually made quite a profit out of the trip, what with the other gold and silver nuggets he'd found in the mine. Not to mention the armor and weapons the bandits didn't need any more! I guess that explains why he didn't mind making the journey for me.

Then the repairs took another three days. Hamlof had to cast a new mounting for the jewel. Fortunately, he could take an impression from its sister amulet, or it might have taken even longer. Then both the amulets had to go back to Weedum-Ja, so she could see that the repair was good, before he could bring it to me.

Without the amulet to distract me, I was getting quite agitated. When he arrived with it, I quit my job immediately, without really thinking about what I'd do next.

The Hero fixed that, too. He told me about Gweden, and Tsarrina, and all the others here. I kept the maid costume, of course. A lot of the customers here can read, and I keep hoping that big spear will turn up!

It's not far to the Kvatch camp from here, so I get to see Weedum-Ja from time to time, and swap amulets again. They're making a start on rebuilding the city, but it's going to be a long slow process. The boss spends a fair amount of his time helping there, so you won't find him here at the farm too often. I'd like to help more too, but this place is busy!

She showed him the amulet she was wearing. Dark-eyes wasn't sure if it was the one that got broken, or the other one. Hamlof had made such a good job of the repairs, you couldn't tell.

He got the impression that it wasn't just the amulet he was supposed to be looking at. The jewel hung between two of the largest globes he'd seen on an Argonian. She noticed his gaze was wandering.

"I imagine you're asking yourself why an Argonian needs breasts, if she doesn't suckle her young?" she asked. When he nodded, she continued "Well, our own philosophers have debated that, too, and the theory is that the Hist are trying to make us more like men and mer. Our tails make us better swimmers, so we kept those, but we walk more upright than we once did. And we only lay eggs in the hot swamps of our homelands. In colder regions, we give birth in the same way your women do."

"We try not to breed too far from the Hist, as our young need to lick the sap to develop their intelligence. A new mother's breasts will ooze sap, or something very like it, for a few days after she gives birth, to allow her some time to take her child back to Black Marsh for the real stuff. The child will lick, not suck, but then again, with her infant having a full set of teeth, the mother prefers it that way!"

"We don't need anything this size for that, of course. We just seem to be mimicing the other races, so that we fit in better. And men (and mer) do seem to like the results!"

Dark-eyes seemed pleased to have got that little speech off her chest, so to speak. The reporter had taken it all down in his notebook, so that was good.

Tsarrina had told her to appeal to his curiosity. "He's a reporter. That's what makes them tick." She hoped his curiosity would extend a little further later. She had more to show him, if he was interested.

How clever to do so much with the Argonian Maid. Including the Cheydinhal Mythic Dawn Sleepers and the whole Riverview party scene was great. The whole idea of the amulets and friendship between Dark-eyes and Weedum-Ja was sweet as can be. I like Weedum-Ja a lot. I also enjoyed your wonderful stab at why Argonian women have breasts. Well done, ghastley!

Oh, so that’s what they’re for.

It was neat to see the death of a cultist from a regular citizen’s viewpoint. I never thought about what their neighbors would think once the armor faded and they were dead on the floor.

The story about Weedum-Ja and the amulet swapping was very sweet. I like her. Fun story!

@Acadian: I think it must be because Weedum-Ja is the only one in the camp with a positive attitude. All the others are complaining about how they can't sleep, or the smell.

@Grits: Having two Mythic Dawn sleepers in the same town, and both working at Riverview, was why I decided she'd be the maid there, rather than anywhere else. In actual game play, she can be hired in the time it takes for the player to walk from the Newlands Lodge to Riverview, and she's already sick of the job when you arrive!

And while we're doing tales with tails....

----

Shulassa

"I'm sure Tsarrina has told you she think's she's part man or mer. That's because I know my Grandfather was a Nord, and we find a lot of similarities between us," Shulassa told the reporter. "Would you like to hear the whole story?"

The man from the Black Horse Courier told her that he would indeed, and she began.

Like I said, my grandfather was a Nord, and a particularly big and strong one. That was his problem. Everyone wanted to prove themselves by challenging him. He didn't like fighting, even if did do it well, and he came south to get away from it. He settled in Skingrad, which is where he met my grandmother. She'd come north from Elsweyr looking for employment. She thought she might get a job as as a maid in the town, or else picking grapes in the vineyards.

They probably met in a tavern one evening. They both felt like outsiders, and that was all they had in common to start with. Gradually, the two misfits fell in love. Slowly was good, because by the time the moons made grandmother receptive, grandfather knew what to expect. He wore an old leather cuirass that night, and never felt her claws on his back.

By the time it fell apart, years later, the old armor had done its job, and they had a pair of healthy young kits to raise. The older one, my father, was large for a Suthay-raht, and many mistook him for the larger breeds. Obviously a lot of that came from his father. My aunt, in contrast, was small like her mother.

When my father grew up, he took a job as apprentice to a merchant in the Imperial City, which is where he met my mother. When he became a Journeyman, he returned with his wife to Skingrad and opened his own store there. I was born a year later and was their only child. While they struggled to make their business a success, I spent a lot of time with my grandparents .

They were both wonderful story-tellers. Grandfather's tales all took place in a frozen north of ice caves and dragons, with damsels in distress that needed to be rescued. Grandmother's stories were of desert sands, and hidden oases. Her damsels could rescue themselves, and steal the treasure as they left!

Sometimes we all went hunting. Grandmother taught me to be stealthy, not grandfather's strong point, as his great size was hard to hide. But he could chase off bears, so we made a good team. My parents were happy to sell the pelts and meat we brought back, too, so they encouraged my hobby. Before long I was hunting on my own, and earning my keep that way.

The life of a hunter suits the female Khajiit. She's happy to be alone most of each month, and she comes back for company when the moons tell her to. That's when mothers watch out for their daughters, as they have little self-control, especially when they're young and inexperienced. My mother was a bit worried when I seemed much too calm after my hunting trips. It made things easier for her, but was I feeling well? We had that talk, and she discovered I wasn't as innocent as she'd hoped.

What shocked her more was when I'd done it, as her calendar didn't agree. No the dates weren't wrong, I just wasn't as tied to them as she thought I should be. I was more like a Nord than a Khajiit in that respect, a bit of Grandfather coming through.

She felt she had a freak for a daughter, and she wasn't too pleased. So I stayed out hunting for longer and longer periods, returning only when I need to get my equipment repaired. Soon I learned to do that for myself, too. My father was too busy with his shop to notice. Other Khajiiti seemed to agree with my mother. The women all thought I was shameless, being ready all the time. The men weren't happy with the idea of a female who had to be seduced first. They were used to just being in the right place at the right time.

My grandparents were getting old, and pretty soon the bears stopped being afraid of my grandfather. After the funeral, my grandmother moved in with my parents, but she didn't last long without him. Now I really didn't have any reason to go back to town.

When I finally did, I found that my parents too were dead, killed by bandits on a trip into the Imperial City. Someone told me that my mother's cousin S'rathad was looking for me, and he'd be back in town near the end of the month. I stayed around and waited for him, and he gave me a bottle that he said my grandfather wanted me to have. He'd been given it by my aunt when she went south to Elsweyr after my grandparents died, with instructions to pass it on to me when I grew up.

That's when the boss came into my life. He had a reputation around town for helping folks out. Erthor, over at the Mages Guild, had been rescued from zombies at Bleak Flats Cave. And there had been a nest of Vampires just outside town that he'd helped clear out. So everyone suggested I show him the bottle and the note I found inside it.

All the note said was: "In the shed behind the Inn". It didn't say which Inn, or what was supposed to happen there, or anything helpful.

"The bottle itself is another clue," he told me. "It's Tamika's West Weald wine, so I'd bet the shed is the one behind the West Weald Inn." He ran off to look, and soon he was back with another bottle in his hand, just like the one I had. There was a note in that one, too.

Again it just described a location - on a rock by the south wall of the castle. We went there and found another bottle, with another note. "Above the guards' heads in the courtyard." That bottle was on one of the rafters over the walkway.

The next note told us to look on Nestarel's balcony. That house had been locked and uninhabited for years, so he made me wait in the Two Sisters' Lodge while he went for it alone. He didn't want me getting into any trouble if he had to pick the lock to get in. The town watch owed him a couple of favours, so he'd take his chances.

It turned out that the watch wasn't the danger with this one. He found the place full of undead. Zombies, skeletons, and wraiths attacked him when he went in. After that, I stayed behind on all the bottle hunts. The next note said "by the press" and it was in another Tamika's bottle. She had a wine press behind her house in town, but it wasn't that one. The next bottle was out in the vineyard, by the press there.

"Behind the well" wasn't very helpful either. There was a well near the press in the vineyard, so of course he checked that on his way back. No luck. That well was the closest to the press, and the furthest would be the one by the North wall of the city behind Summitmist Manor. I asked if the one we'd seen in the castle wouldn't be more likely, but he said he knew there was nothing there. He was right, of course, and the next note told us to look "near the Tomatoes".

"That capital letter makes me think they're special ones, like Undena Orethi's"

I had to agree that hers were the best, but did that mean in her house, or out where she grew them? We used the same logic as before and decided he'd look outside the city walls for the next bottle.

Except that it wasn't a bottle this time. He found a small box with a plain gold ring in it. No enchantment, nothing special about it at all. I looked more carefully at it, and then I understood. This was my Grandmother's wedding ring! Not valuable, but priceless to me!

I was so happy, I could have burst (except that I'm not a Bosmer). I told him all about my grandparents and their stories, and my childhood in Skingrad. I probably told him a bit more than that, because he noticed that Tsarrina and I had something in common. He told me how she'd come to terms with being more like a human or elf than a Khajiit.

That made a lot more sense than becoming a hermit hunter. I leapt at the chance to join her clan here at Gweden. Apparently, it was a good time to do so, as she was getting swamped with running the business, and didn't have the time for anything else. She always made time for Ma'iq, but he was special.

And as I told you, Khajiiti males don't find me to their taste. I'm more the exotic dish on the menu here., I cater to the adventurous types of all the other races, who want something different. Tsarrina always tells them she'll give them their money back if I use my claws or bite them. And there's Freija here to heal them, if it's really serious. It's hard to keep a straight face when she says that!

He'd abandoned his ideas of professional detachment days ago, and this was the last interview. He let her show him what "something different" meant. The rougher tongue, the surprises she could spring using her tail. He liked different, he decided.

This was fun!

'He wore an old leather cuirass that night, and never felt her claws on his back.’
Ever so much more clever than just dealing and healing.

’I was so happy, I could have burst (except that I'm not a Bosmer).’

And our reporter finishes with something exotic on the menu: rough tongue and tail.

Dark Eyes:



BWAAHAA! Ain't it the truth !!! ROFL !!!

Loved the little jaunt into why Argonians have breasts !!


Shulassa:

The last several paragraphs, had me rolling !!!

Great write, (and imagination) as always !!

Just an interlude to wrap up the Gweden part of the story before I move on to Miranu.

By the way "Summary" is the title because that's what the reporter needs to do, not just because I do too.

------

Summary

The young reporter from the Black Horse Courier had a problem. His normal practice was just to turn in his notebook and let the editor decide what would appear in print. That might not be such a good idea this time.

He'd been sent here to write an article about the Champion of Cyrodiil, but he hadn't even seen him, and all his notes were about the women.

For example, there were his notes on how to tell the girls apart in the dark. Dark-eyes had scales, and Shulassa fur, so they were easy. Size and shape did it for most of the others, especially Silanu. But Prizna had been totally right about all the Daedric women being the same perfect shape. For them, it was all about more subtle differences. Prizna's skin was warmer, so that was simple, as long as there was someone else to compare with. It took him quite some time to discover that Goldie would squeal with pleasure if you kissed her just there. Nelrene liked it too, but she did so more quietly. Once he'd guessed correctly and they opened their eyes, the glowing red, blue or gold made it easy.

How long had they played that game? He hadn't written that down. How could he write in the dark? Even if he wasn't way too busy!

And then there was the note that his favorite flavour was Virgilia. That wasn't in his own handwriting, but it was a very good forgery, enough to fool the Khajiit brothers. He suspected Virgilia had written it herself.

That reminded him of another benefit he'd got from this assignment: The words "Khajiit" and "lick" would no longer conjure up thoughts of that stupid Argonian in Leyawiin and his dumb jokes!

He wasn't sure if the references to "polishing" would make sense to everyone. How well-known was that book, or the play it was taken from? When he re-read that part it looked like he was bragging, so he decided to leave it out completely. She'd been exaggerating just to make him feel good, hadn't she?

He'd been at the farm for long enough to see that Tsarrina was very good at matching the customers to the specialities of the girls. Silanu to those who wanted discipline and correction. Nelrene to those who didn't quite take it that far, but still needed to be told what to do. At the other end of that scale, Selena was eager to please, and she'd do anything the customer asked, and better than they expected!

Sugar took on the "vigorous" types. She liked it rough, but she'd give as good as she got. They'd put a Restore Strength and Endurance potion beside the bed when she had a customer, and it wasn't for her, except indirectly.

Darwen and Cybeline were very acrobatic and flexible, and gave good value to the more athletic customers. Darwen was also the dancer, who'd set the mood for everyone with her gyrations.

Dark-eyes and Shulassa catered to the clients who wanted "something different". They didn't get Khajiit customers, except for Ma'iq visiting Tsarrina. It just wasn't part of their culture. Argonians were also rarely seen at the farm, and those that did come were as likely to go with someone other than Dark-eyes. But she had her Lusty Maid role, and she really enjoyed that game.

Prizna, too appealed to the adventure-seeking types. Most of them had never seen a Dremora before, and certainly never a naked female one! She'd also helped close an Oblivion gate, which left many of her customers in awe. So did most of the things she did to them.

Juliana remained the first-timers specialist. Any of them could make a man out of a boy, but Juliana could make him a regular customer!

Maeva and Freija were the archetypal Nord good time girls, the kind you'd want to cuddle up to on a cold evening in the mountains, ... or any other time. They were also the ones who'd take control if things got too boistrous on party nights. Nelrene's background as a guard would come out then, too, and Sugar could help negotiate the peace with her axe.

Virgilia wasn't a jiggly giggly schoolgirl any more, but she could play the part perfectly for anyone who wanted that fantasy. (She was still naturally jiggly, but the giggly part was all an act). Meena could play the eager young ingenue just as well. It wasn't that long since she'd been a virgin, and she still remembered how to act like one. As a Breton, she was naturally small, which helped the illusion.

And Goldie did her smoldering "are you good enough for me?" act to perfection. Nobody ever failed, but she managed to give her clients a feeling that they'd achieved something momentous. Ego-boosts like that were good for everybody's business.

And they all thought the Champion of Cyrodiil, their boss, was the perfect employer. Tsarrina was held in almost equal esteem for the way she ran the place and kept both customers and staff happy.

He'd been given enough gold to rent a room in Anvil for two nights. He'd been here a week, but he hadn't ever reached Anvil, so he still had all that. He decided to use it to rent a room at Brina Cross on his way back instead, and transcribe his notes selectively to a fresh book. He wouldn't get interrupted and distracted there.

He wasn't going to discard this one, of course. He had enough material here for a novel. One that would make "The Real Barenziah (Daggerfall Edition)" look tame. Now where could he find a publisher that he trusted?

Getting back to the Courrier article, if he didn't write about the women, what did he have left to write about? They'd all been rescued, or at least helped out of a significant problem, by the Champion, but in one edition, he couldn't tell all their stories. Certainly not as well as they'd told them to him. Especially as there were things you weren't allowed to print, and others he'd never be able to put into words.

He felt that he owed Tsarrina a lot for her generous gift of the girls' time. He also knew that was exactly what she wanted him to feel. She was a shrewd businesswoman, and had orchestrated his whole visit to suit her purposes, but he wasn't complaining. She'd get the sort of article she wanted, if he could just get the right words together. It suited his purposes too.

He had to make all the men want to come here and hear the stories first-hand, and all the women want to be rescued by the Champion. He should find a way to mention the Daedra, because you wouldn't find their like elsewhere. There was so much he wanted to write, and so few words you could get onto one broadsheet.

"Women Rescued" was a good headline. Especially with the Champion of Cyrodiil named in the sub-heading as the rescuer. He could point out the large number of good deeds as a reason for not giving all the details. He did need to mention Tsarrina's name, and maybe quote her somewhere in the article.

Prizna had made a real impression on him, which was clearly why Tsarrina started with her. It had taken him a while to realize that she didn't just party naked, she fought that way, and she'd closed the Oblivion Gate by the Champion's side without any armor. Reminding the readers that the Gate had been threatening Bravil would just add to the mood he was planning for that part of the piece. Just mentioning that there were two more Daedra women, of different races, should be enough.

And they weren't the only unique thing about the Champion's establishment. There were others to mention, like the Unicorn the Champion had rescued along with its rider. And a real Lusty Argonian Maid. Well, maybe she wasn't a real Maid any more, but the rest was definitely real. Silanu was also unique, in a big way, but she'd asked him not to reveal her hiding place, in case any of the Mythic Dawn were still around.

He reminded himself that all the races of Cyrodiil - and beyond - were represented here. He should use that to make the point that the Champion was everyone's champion, and here was the proof. That should keep the brothers happy.

He could attribute Gweden's fine taste in wines to the Champion too. Tsarrina wouldn't mind, he was sure. Tamika and the Surilie Brothers would appreciate their names appearing. He should show them the draft article on his way back.

He could mention the view of Anvil bay at sunset, and how the view inside the Lodge could be just as awe-inspiring. And on the subject of Anvil, he'd better provide a map to the place, so people would know how to get here from the town. That could be printed on the back.

But he'd have to write it tomorrow, because right now, a little blonde Breton wanted his attention, and he thought she deserved it in full.

This was certainly some of your very best writing. Summary was exactly what is was, but undoubtedly the most brilliant one I’ve seen. I loved it, starting here:
‘notes on how to tell the girls apart in the dark’
All the way to here:
‘because right now, a little blonde Breton wanted his attention.’

What a perfect conclusion to this wonderful series.

This had me rolling:




ROFL !!!

Great Write, as always!

A summary indeed, and wrapped in the young reporter’s very entertaining thoughts. The Champion really shines too, which is neat because they still could be anyone. This was great, ghastley!

@Acadian: considering that it was a collection of discarded notes from writing the individual stories, it did come together better than I thought it would.

Does anyone remember the ancient B-movie (and record) that I stole the title from? All I remember is the title!

-----

Love Potion #9

The young reporter for the Black Horse Courier had been sent back to Gweden. Apparently Tsarrina had some important news, and she'd specifically requested that he come down and get it. He tried to appear reluctant to do the long journey, but not too much. He didn't want anyone else takng this assignment, just some cover if it took him longer than they expected.

He'd lost out on doing the report on Skingrad's food and wine, just like he thought he would. One of the Khajiit brothers had taken that assignment himself. At least he'd brought some wine and sweetrolls back to the office and shared them with the rest of the staff. The wine traveled well, but sweetrolls are always better when they're still warm from the oven. He'd have to stop on the way to Gweden, and if he left the city at the right time, he'd arrive at Skingrad at dusk and have to stay the night.

He wouldn't mind staying a few nights at Gweden, too, if he could find an excuse.

---

"If you ask Maeva, she'll tell you that some of her customers remind her of her late husband." Tsarrina told him. "But fortunately most of them can get it up." She grinned. "She won't be able to crack that one any more, because of this!"

Tsarrina held up a potion bottle, containing a bright blue liquid. "It's miraculous stuff. Works almost instantly, and lasts long enough to make the girls very happy. And we have exclusive commercial use here at Gweden."

That explained why Tsarrina wanted the story told, but he'd need to know some more about this potion. What was it called? Where did she get it?

"Silanu's cousin Miranu makes it. She hasn't given it a name yet, it's just number 9 right now. She sent some to us, and some to Silanu's sister for her own use. Apparently Falanu's going to test a different application than we can here."

That at least gave him an excuse to spend some time with Silanu, getting her side of the story. She'd want something in return, of course, and he'd be happy to meet her demands. He wondered how many of the others had any information.

When he left the following morning for Skingrad, he had several pages of notes.

Miranu's secret laboratory was somewhere near the old All Things Alchemical, and he'd need to get a key from Falanu. He'd already decided he needed to interview her. Silanu had suggested that her testing of the potion wasn't going to be quite the same as they were doing at Gweden, and he was curious.

He already knew about her taste for necrophilia. He found out about it on the way to Gweden on his first trip. Silanu had given him the whole story of how she got started on that, but he'd never asked her directly for her own viewpoint. This would be a good time to fill in that gap, as well as find out more about the potion.

Falanu was working on making an ointment from the potion, for those who, for any reason, couldn't drink it. (That was a delicate way of putting it, they could even print that!) She'd made up a batch and her initial tests had been disappointing. It could just be that she needed to make a stronger mixture, but she didn't know if the effect was preserved in the ointment at all. It didn't affect her, so there was only one way she could test it.

He wouldn't get the key to Miranu's lab until he'd helped her find out. The things a reporter has to do for a story! She reassured him that he didn't need to be dead for this. She needed him to tell her what happened, and how it made him feel, and that needed a live subject.

He pointed out that the initial effect wasn't any true indication; if she did that with any ointment, he'd have reacted the same way.

He was sure that the rest of the effect wasn't just her. It had taken a couple of hours to wear off, and that was way past his normal capabilities, even after the training they'd given him at Gweden. Fatigue was still an issue, so she gave him potions to fix that problem. She didn't seem to need any, which probably explained her strange habits.

His legs were weak as he walked out of Skingrad towards the city. He hoped Miranu wasn't as amorous as her cousins. You can have too much of a good thing!

It was starting to get dark as he arrived at the old shop, and he was getting a bit concerned that the laboratory entrance was going to be hard to find in the gloom. He need not have worried, as a bright glow soon caught his eye. It was the dying embers of the fire from a small forge. An area of stone slabs, surrounded by a low, crumbling wall, appeared to be the remnants of an old fort. The tower was long gone, but a weathered trapdoor was set in the floor. The key he'd been given fit the lock.

The short ladder led down to an ancient-looking corridor. The stone walls were rough near the entrance, but quickly gave way to much better masonry as he walked farther in. He called out to announce his arrival, and a female voice answered.

"If Falanu sent you, you're more than welcome. Come on down."

He reached the top of a broad flight of stairs leading down to a large chamber. At the near end, two large tanks held a green, slightly glowing liquid. At the other end two massive stone columns stood at the foot of another flight of steps that led up to a balcony. There were chains hanging from the columns with large shackles on the ends.

In between, a screened-off area enclosed a bed, and some chests and shelves. Presumably Miranu lived here, as well as using it for her research. He heard her voice again. "Up here, on the balcony."

He crossed the chamber, and walked up the stairs. Overlooking the chamber she had a row of tables covered in alchemical apparatus, with retorts and alembics bubbling, and calcinators fuming. Brightly-colored liquids were arranged in bottles of all sizes on the shelves at the end, Miranu was fixing a label to another one, and setting it in its place. She was almost a twin to her cousin Falanu, except for a greenish shade of skin.

Miranu

He introduced himself and told her why he was there. "Oh yes, potion #9, one of my luckiest discoveries!" She replied. "But not the one I was looking for. That's a long story, and you should probably meet Boo before I start on that."

She called out, and a deep voice answered from beyond a pair of heavy wooden doors on the far wall of the chamber. Soon they swung open, and out walked a Minotaur!

The Minotaur was wearing a blacksmith's apron. It was apparently his forge that he'd passed on the way in.

"I'm pleased to make your aquaintance," said the Minotaur. "My name is Bucephalus. Miranu calls me Boo, for short. I gather you've come here to get our story for the Black Horse Courier?" Boo had seen the notebook he was writing in, and reached the right conclusion.

The reporter explained that his report was originally to be just about potion #9, but he could see there was a much bigger story behind it. He'd be glad to get all the details, but he couldn't guarantee what would appear in print. That was the editor's decision, not his.

"All the details will take a long time to recount," Miranu pointed out. "You'd better stay the night, and we'll tell you everything tomorrow. You can use the bed over there."

He'd only seen the one bed, so he asked her where she'd be sleeping. "In Boo's cave, as usual. I hardly ever use that bed these days."

"You might want to read some of the books on the shelf there," she continued. "That will give you a bit of the background, and what we tell you tomorrow will make a bit more sense."

She took Boo's arm and they disappeared back through the doors into the cave.

On the shelf he found a book about Alessia, the first Empress of Cyrodiil. That didn't help much, until he remembered what he'd heard about her consort Morihaus. It was said that the statue bearing his name in the Arena district was nothing like him. He wasn't even human, but a winged bull, a demi-god son of Kynareth! Belharza, their son, had been a Minotaur, as well as becoming the second Emperor.

Another was her lab notes. The green stuff he'd seen in the tanks on the way in was Hist Sap, and she'd been trying to separate the active ingredients from it. He didn't understand much of it, not being trained as an alchemist, but he saw several references to potion #9, as well as a few others with promising effects.He'd have to ask her what it all meant in the morning.

That's when it struck him. Miranu and Boo were lovers! All the Minotaurs he'd seen were male, except that they weren't. Oxen, rather than bulls. Boo had been wearing that apron, so he hadn't seen any difference.

At least he'd be getting a good night's sleep without any interruptions from Miranu. He was still recovering from her cousin's attentions.

----

Potion #9! I love it!

Nice job tying in Falanu and her infamous predilections. An ointment! So one sister likes ‘em dead and the other likes ‘em minotaurish. Clever indeed. Well, at least our reporter will get a decent night sleep. Hmm, I wonder. . . will noise be a problem? Perhaps he could offer Miranu some of Pelena's potion of quiet passion to ensure his sleep is not disturbed?

Nice screenie of Miranu. By Kynareth’s wings, that white peasant blouse with the brown quilted bodice sure doesn’t look like that on my little woodster!

@Acadian: - It's probably the green skin that makes it look different on her.

---------


Love Potion #9 - part 2

The following morning he was woken by the sound of Boo's hooves in the tunnel leading up to the exit, and the distant creak of the trapdoor's hinges.

Miranu confirmed that Boo was indeed an entire male. That's what got her attention in the first place. "They're human you know. Not just human-like, their parents are Imperials just like you."

He was shocked at that, but she explained that he probably wasn't of a royal enough bloodline to have Minotaurs in his family. And those that did wouldn't talk about it, either. But someone directly descended from Alessia and Morihaus through both parents could be born a Minotaur, if they were male, of course.

The majority were abandoned by their parents in the wilderness, after a small operation. She supposed that some didn't even get that mercy. Bucephalus was a rare find indeed.

He'd been brought to her lab under a succession of Command and Paralysis spells, until he could be chained to those pillars over there. She'd administered potions that she hoped would calm him, but had little success. Even when he did cease his struggles, she couldn't communicate with him.

Then there had been the incident at the Blackwood Company Headquarters, down in Leyawiin. The Fighters Guild had discovered a Hist Tree in the basement and destroyed it. She'd bought the remainder of their stock of Hist Sap, and had it hauled here. If the stories about the sap, and its effects on the mind, were to be believed, this could help her find a way to cure Boo's animal behavior.

The raw sap was likely to cause hallucinations, or even provoke a violent frenzy, but there was a chance she could refine something more specific from the complex mixture. Her early attempts didn't produce much of any use, until she realized that all her standard Alchemical methods involved heat. Distillation and especially calcination were probably destroying the very compounds she was trying to find.

She reasoned that Fire wasn't the only force she could employ. Frost would also change ingredients, and allow her to separate liquids by freezing out the less volatile ones. She'd also seen an experiment where a mage had used Shock to separate metal and air from a liquid.

Her first uses of freeze-distillation had given her some promising results, These had included a potion to tranquilize her subject, so she could remove the shackles.That had let her start to train him. He responded better to reward than to punishment, perhaps because his size made the punishment less effective. Food was only a useful reward when he was hungry, so she used others. That was one of the reasons she was keeping her laboratory a secret. Not everyone would approve of those methods, and they'd have suspected her motives.

Major improvements in his behavior got major rewards. She admitted that she was rewarding herself, too. Boo was beginning to communicate with signs, and she could read his facial expressions. This was becoming more of a collaboration than the solo effort that she'd started. It just felt right to celebrate the breakthroughs together.

He'd become used to being asked to drink strange potions, and report on their effect. Potion #9 didn't need him to use any sign language. She could see what it did right away! He was a little annoyed that she made him wait to see if the effect wore off quickly. She asked him if it made his head hurt, or feel nausea, or anything else bad. He shook his huge head, and reached for her.

It took a long time for the effects to wear off. She was glad she'd held him off for as long as she did, or she was sure they'd have injured themselves. She made a note to dilute it next time.

She probably spent longer getting the dosage just right than she should have. On the one hand, this was going to be a significant commercial product, and it would finance all her research. She needed to be careful to produce the most return on her investment.

On the other hand, it wasn't the potion she was trying to make; one that would permanently boost Boo's intelligence.

She thought she'd found one later, but it wasn't as effective as she'd hoped. Boo could speak at last, but his words were child-like and simple. She was running out of possible combinations of ingredients, at least the ones she could get in Tamriel. Even the more exotic ones from the Deadlands, such as Harrada and Bloodgrass, had proven no more useful.

Then the Champion of Cyrodiil had paid her a visit, only a few weeks ago. He'd heard about potion #9 from Tsarrina, and Falanu had directed him here. "Just like she did for you".

The reporter wondered if the Champion had to negotiate for the key the way he had, but he said nothing.

The Champion had just returned from a trip to the Shivering Isles, the realm of Sheogorath. There were ingredients there that you just couldn't get in Tamriel. She actually had a few of them already, as they'd been found on the island in the Niben Bay, and her sources had obtained some for her. She'd heard stories of others, though. Mind-altering ones called Felldew, and Greenmote. She wasn't sure if they were real, as all people coming back from the Isles were known to be insane.

The Champion assured her that they were, he'd seen them himself. He had some of the Felldew with him, and he could get some Refined Greenmote in only a few days. He warned her about the effects he knew of the raw ingredients. He didn't think they could be combined with anything. At least he didn't have the Alchemical skill to do so.

She had limited success with the Felldew. Its effects were temporary, and harmful when they wore off. That was true even when she managed to separate it and react the fractions with other ingredients.

The Greenmote, when he returned with that, was quite a different proposition. That could have permanent effects. Fatal ones, if she wasn't extremely careful.

A few rats died keeping Boo safe. The mixture that eventually worked included fractions from both drugs, and some from the Hist Sap, too. It appeared to be an ultimate Restore Intelligence potion, capable of reversing even the damage that had been done to Boo. She tried a little herself, but she had no damage to restore, and it did nothing. It didn't make the rats smart either, so there wasn't any Fortification going on.

She was glad, because it meant that Boo really was as clever as he turned out. Her theories were right, he was an Imperial in a bull-shaped body, not just a beast with hands.

But she wasn't so glad when he started to talk about having a career. She'd been planning on keeping him to herself, not on giving him his independence.

And to make it worse, they'd had that misunderstanding. He'd mentioned becoming a gigolo, and she'd totally flown off the handle. Fortunately that was when the Champion returned to see if she'd had any success. He talked to Boo, and found out what he'd really said.

Boo didn't want to become a gigolo, he was just trying to tell her that it was the only job he'd been trained for! That was doubly embarassing for Miranu, but she wanted to make amends. Of course he needed other training, and she could do some of that herself. But she could only train Alchemy, and he'd need more options than that.

She didn't like the idea of him going to the Arcane University to learn other magical skills, there were way too many pretty young girls apprenticed there, with firm bodies, and tight.... And she didn't want him wandering around Cyrodill looking for other trainers, when he could be happier here.

"Skill books, then," the Champion had suggested. "You have taught him to read, haven't you?"

She had, and she knew he liked to tinker with metal. Perhaps the Armorer skill, so he could become a Smith? Alchemy goes well with that, making better alloys for armor, and harder edges for blades. She could use some better apparatus, too, if his skill would take him there.

He had a nice little collection of books now. Five in all. With that start, he'd been able to build himself a forge and start repairing things. Soon he was making weapons and armor from scratch, and that apparatus Miranu had wanted. She could make much more of the profitable potions now.

"Oh that reminds me" she said. "I found this other compound that I want Tsarrina to try out for me. It's really slippery stuff, and it cures disease, too! I'm sure she'll find a use for it!"

The reporter was more than happy to volunteer to take it there. And he really ought to report the results, too. Tsarrina would want that.

He began to compose a letter to his editor. He might not make it back the Imperial City for some time, and they'd need a first report soon. He wondered how many he'd get away with before he was ordered back.

Oops, double-post.

My Baldur’s Gate I & II are showing – When I see the name ‘Boo’, I think of a giant space hamster. Miranu’s Boo is likely a better bed mate however.

My goodness, this was graduate level alchemy! Freezing reagents and exotic ingredients requiring the attention of the Champion himself. Even test rats. No simple freeze and dispel here!

Our poor reporter may never get home to the BHC.

Interesting story, certainly different. I"m up to post 15 on the first page. Does such a mod require the user prove he/she's over 18? That's actually a serious question, not a joke! I'm curious.

The mod doesn't introduce anything that's not already in the game, as the concept of Gweden being a brothel is already part of the existing Sirens Deception quest. There is no visible activity at the farm, other than a lot of standing around chatting. All the quests are about finding the "staff" for the place, which are pretty regular fetch/rescue/steal etc quests.

The dialog's at about the same level of innuendo as the vanilla game, so pretty well anyone who comfortable with that won't get additionally corrupted.

Coool. I wasn't implying anything, just curious.

That is one of those things that cracks me up, too. Those brothel siren NPCs swivelling their hips around, trying to attract other NPC men down on Anvil's docks.

@Acadian: Miranu was always intended to be a real Master Alchemist, who's advancing the knowledge of the subject. I tried to make her methods match the game in using the known forces of Fire, Frost and Shock to act on the ingredients. If I'd managed to make a reasonable-looking piece of electolysis apparatus for her lab, she'd have done more with that. As it was, I was stretching a bit to have her consciously separate, instead of just mix, although that's what an alembic does to purify the result.

@Lady Saga: the women won't have to visit the docks now that the Black Horse Courier has a an edition to tell everyone where the farm is! Besides, that's Mirabelle Monet's territory.

----

Taminwe

The young reporter from the Black Horse Courier was still at Gweden helping to test the slippery stuff. When the first edition of his report arrived, he missed the Champion reading it. He was sharing the bathtub with Darwen at the time.

Tsarrina told him that the Champion had asked her about the article, just before someone delivered a letter from Ocato. He'd looked a little annoyed about having another Courier edition mentioning him, but Tsarrina had done her best to make sure it was all about Gweden, so he couldn't be too mad about it. And the letter distracted his attention even more.

All Tsarrina could tell him about the letter was that the Champion had been asked to expand into the Imperial City, and take over a men's club there. He'd left immediately to go and talk to the High Chancellor.

She was sure he'd tell her more once the deal was sealed, and her role, if any, became clearer. She hoped she wouldn't have to run both places, this one was quite enough work for her.

She did have a name for the place - the Red Dragon Club - so he decided to track it down when they finally recalled him to the office. He thought he had a little time left, as they hadn't published his report on potion #9 yet, and he was still writing the one about the slippery stuff. He'd had to re-write that a few times already, as it was hard to describe the possibilities in a way that wouldn't cause outrage in some parts of society. That might also be holding up the printing of his previous report, come to think of it.

When the inevitable recall finally came, he asked around the Market District if anyone had heard of the Red Dragon Club. Only the men told him anything, and they just knew it was somewhere in the Talos Plaza District, but it was closed now. Count Goldwine of Kvatch had run it, and he'd died in the siege.

He had to go looking for it on his own time, as this wasn't an official assignment. Fortunately Urjabhi thought he was looking tired, and gave him the weekend off. If Urjabhi had only known why, he might not have been so lucky.

Even with clues given to him by the people who lived in the Talos Plaza District, it wasn't easy to find the right alley that lead to the door to the club. You couldn't see the red light outside from the street, and the alley itself looked like all the others. He realized that it must be right behind the Tiber Septim Hotel, although the two were probably not connected in any way. And if it had been closed, it wasn't now.

The door opened onto a flight of stairs that wound down to a corridor in the basement. In one direction was a closed door, and in the other he could hear the sounds of a lively bar. But between him and the bar was a large Orc who wanted to know who he was.

Showing his press card was not the right thing to do, and he was on the brink of being forcibly ejected when an Altmer with the longest legs he'd ever seen intervened. Her name was Taminwe, and she was obviously in some position of authority here, as the Orc put him down. She asked if he was the reporter who'd written the Gweden dispatch.

He decided to admit that, which was apparently a better decision than his earlier one. She then asked about all the other details that hadn't made it into print. What did he know about the women at Gweden?

She led him away from the bar, through the closed door. He saw now that it led to the bedrooms, and she took him to one of them, instructing the Orc to have some wine sent from the bar.

It was quickly apparent to him that he had a lot to learn about getting information from others. He was answering far more of her questions than she was of his. And he felt lost without a notebook while she was completely confident in her memory.

But he had to admit that it was anything but an unpleasant experience. The wine, when it arrived, was Tamika's. They clearly had good taste in common. He remarked on that, and how Tsarrina at Gweden kept it on hand. "A couple of glasses will loosen lips" said Taminwe, "and a few more will loosen other things. But we really don't need to drink that much, do we?" She kissed him briefly. "I want you to show me your prostitute-interviewing technique, and if I'm not mistaken, you'd like that too."

He didn't feel quite so over-matched in the next part, but she was definitely impressive, and continued to catch him off-guard with questions when he wasn't even expecting her to talk.. But he was learning fast, and got more from her than he had earlier. He found out that there was more to the Club than met the eye. Yes, it was the brothel he'd expected, but it was something more.

Taminwe seemed to be on the brink of revealing what it was, but he couldn't talk, let alone ask questions, in that position. Her reactions gave him hope that she would later, as she did seem to like what he was doing.

Later she told him that she was quite impressed by his performance. No, not just the sex, but the way he'd only told her things she should know anyway, or could get from other sources. He'd revealed little about himself, other than his tastes in wine and women. "Both excellent, but then I'm biased, aren't I?." So she'd decided that he could be trusted with some additional information. He'd have to agree to her conditions before she'd reveal what that was.

He felt that he trusted her, even though there was a nagging doubt that he was being manipulated by a better operator than himself. He agreed to consider her terms.

"We'll need you to become part of our organisation, before you get the whole story," she told him. "As you probably guessed by now, I'm not just one of the whores in a city brothel, and this isn't just a brothel. And you aren't going to be just a reporter any more. You already work for the High Chancellor on the Courier. Now you'll have other duties in his employ."

"The main one will be information-gathering, just like you do now. You'll need to decide whether that information is for public consumption or not. Judging by the way you worded that article about Gweden, I think you understand that well. But instead of just keeping the unpublishable parts to yourself, you'll pass everything back to us for analysis. In return, you'll get leads that aren't available to others."

"From time to time, we'll also need someone who can persuade a woman to provide more information than she's comfortable with, or even take actions that she otherwise wouldn't. I believe you can be particularly useful there. Even for an Imperial, I haven't seen that kind of natural talent often."

She'd already told him enough to fill in the gaps. They wanted him to join their den of spies, for which the brothel was just a cover. He agreed and she told him more.

He'd need to become a regular customer at the Red Dragon Club, coming in whether he had information to report or not. She herself, or one of the other designated women she'd introduce him to right after this, would take him to one of the bedrooms and "swap notes" with him. If he had nothing for them, then any of the other staff would just serve their client as usual. Shurgak, the bouncer, had special greetings to let him know when there was something they needed to tell him, and then he'd select the appropriate woman for his session.

The Courier would get instructions from Ocato through their own channels to send him where he was needed. He'd have to provide news for the Courier as well as whatever other information was sought, but that would not often be a problem. The Khajiit brothers could be trusted to filter his reports correctly and pass anything on that they thought of higher interest, but his was the first cut.
They would not know that he was working directly for the High Chancellor, so leaving a liitle in his reports that was too hot to print would not be a bad thing.

He wondered aloud if potion #9 had become a state secret, as he hadn't seen anything in the Courier yet, and it now seemed certain that Ocato knew about it. Taminwe had to laugh at that idea. Her theory was that Ocato wanted to leave that decision to the Champion of Cyrodiil. After all, he had to run this place as a viable brothel, and not send all its trade to Gweden, or else there would be no cover for them. She suspected that he was negotiating with Tsarrina on the equitable merger of the businesses right now. Once Tsarrina felt that the Red Dragon Club was part of her domain, she wouldn't mind having #9 here, too. And then it could be announced to the world.

"You don't seem to need it," Taminwe remarked, looking down.

"With you, of course not." was his chivalrous reply.

Taminwe thought about that remark for a few moments before slipping on a black robe and cracking open the door to the corridor. He heard her call to another woman who answered and came over to speak to her, Then she closed the door and took the robe back off. Shortly there was a patterned knock on the door and Taminwe let in the others.

"I was just thinking of the short introductions right now," Taminwe told him, "but since you appear to be ready for the full ones, why don't we get started?" She beckoned to the blonde Imperial."Miranda, you go first."

He was fortunate that Miranda had to be back on duty in the bar very shortly, so she "passed the baton" to Tilasa before he was completely exhausted. The young Dunmer was not in any hurry, did not have any of the bizarre tastes of the Hlaalu cousins, and slowed to his pace contentedly.

Taminwe put her robe back on and slipped quietly out of the door. She'd just remembered that Ocato was due here for a briefing in less than an hour. She needed to freshen up.

After Ocato left, she went looking for Tilasa, but didn't find her. The door to the room where she'd left the reporter was still closed, so she assumed he was in there asleep. Perhaps Tilasa was too.

When the two of them finally emerged, if was Tilasa who looked tired. She reported to Taminwe that he didn't talk in his sleep, and was clearly more of a morning person than she. That made Taminwe and the reporter laugh, as it was quite late in the evening, but they knew what she meant. Since Tilasa had the night shift in the bar, her idea of time was the opposite of everyone else's.

Cloak, dagger, slippery stuff and potion #9! What a fun way to introduce the Red Dragon Club. The leggy Altmer, Taminwe seemed like the perfect mer to run it! You did a great job of displaying that our reporter was slightly outgunned in the info gathering department.

I don’t know about the movie, but the song about the gypsy Madam Ruth with the gold capped tooth is very familiar. We sang it in junior high school show choir about a million years ago. I haven’t thought about that in a long time!

Apparently Falanu's going to test a different application than we can here."

Oh my. Yep, by the time we got to her ointment, my mind was already there. The whole Falanu encounter was delicately hilarious!

I love the alchemy and lore in Mirau’s part. You had me digging through the Imperial Library again. The potion bottles look great, nice to see Number Nine safely stowed on the top shelf. The Lab Notes link didn’t work when I tried it, but I remember reading her notes some time ago.

The young reporter from the Black Horse Courier was still at Gweden helping to test the slippery stuff.

It’s always nice to start off with a grin. What a fun introduction to the Red Dragon Club. The young reporter is learning his lessons well!

Yeah! The Red Dragon Club makes its debut! And the young reporter from the Black Horse Courier too! Oh, if those women slipped a drop of that potion in everyone's drinks they'd be rolling in Septims in no time (as if they wouldn't be without it, ROFL !! )

I was tickled to see the story of Miranu and her Minotaur again, too !! Great Write !!

@Acadian: So you noticed her guns too! Of the course, the reporter is paid to notice all the details.

@Grits: Yes, and the learning is continuing, although with a new subject added. Taminwe can teach him interrogation in ways they don't in school. He's already inquisitive, and she'll be developing his skills to suit her own purposes.

I fixed that link.

@mALX: On the contrary, if the customer doesn't need #9 he'll just take longer and they won't have time for more clients! Tsarrina can be trusted to apply her advantage judiciously. She just has to ask Maeva who needs it, and who doesn't.


Back to the story, and this episode ties in to the mod again with Uriel's cousin. The reporter can't take a role in it, but he does hear about it afterward.

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

Taminwe - part 2

Taminwe had a few words for the reporter before he left. "Expect a trip to Leyawiin soon, There's something going on down there and the Champion and I will be paying a visit before long. We'll need you to pick up any ripples from the main splash, if you know what I mean."

The assignment came in on the same day he was due to visit the Red Dragon Club again, so he went there first. Shurgak's greeting told him that he should ask for Miranda's services. and after taking a glass of Tamika's from Tilasa at the bar, he followed Miranda down the corridor to a private room.

Miranda spent the first few minutes dutifully attending to her client before she said anything. The way she grinned like a cat told him she was really enjoying this part of her job, and she didn't stop when she passed on her information. He'd already been told that he was going to the Castle to report on the death of a mysterious stranger in the servants' quarters, but Miranda already knew the truth behind the mystery. The stranger had been a forger, hired to produce a fake document to support the claim of Alessia Caro's cousin to the vacant throne.

The unfinished document, together with the seal they were going to use to make it look authentic, were now in the hands of the Elder Council. The Champion of Cyrodiil had been forced to kill the forger when he attacked him, but Taminwe had got the rest of the story straight from the cousin in Senchal. Having experienced her methods, the reporter could imagine how she did that!

They hadn't been able to pin anything directly on the Countess, so that's why he was needed. If any rumours or clues had been missed, the Council needed to know. The announcement of the plot's discovery in the Courier would help suppress any further attempts along similar lines, so his report there was equally important. The more detailed it was, the better the deterrant.

One more thing. They already knew that the beggars had seen the Countess with the forger, but that couldn't be used in his article. If anyone else had done so, then it was good to print. That made sense to him. The general public wouldn't trust the word of a beggar, but on the other hand, they were a source to be protected because they were so reliable.

---

When he got to Leyawiin, he spent most of his time inside the castle. The locals really hadn't noticed the stranger in their town, especially as he'd disappeared into the castle almost as soon as he arrived. The beggars spot strangers right away, as they're more likely to cough up a coin the first time they're approached. Everyone else ignores them.

Only the private areas of the castle seemed to have any guards, and he was able to enter the servants' quarters without challenge. They seemed to have been built for a much larger staff than were currently employed, so it was easy to imagine the stranger finding a vacant room he could use. He had to ask which one it was, and he was shown a small chamber at the end of a corridor, opposite the door to one of the towers.

Apart from a bloodstain on the floor, there was little evidence of the occupant. He'd only left a quill and inkwell on top of an empty crate. The reporter already knew that the document that the forger had been working on was taken by the Champion, along with the fake seal of Pelagius IV that he was going to use on it. He asked if anyone had seen the man alive, talked to him? No, they'd only seen his body, and they might not have found that if the guard hadn't heard the fight. Nobody came down to this end of the place unless they needed something from the stores in the tower, and they couldn't remember the last time that happened.

Further chat with the servants gave him the impression that there was even more to the maze of rooms and corridors beneath the castle than he'd been able to see. There were parts that nobody visited, and rumours of secret passages, and ghosts, and noises in the night. All of which would provide excellent cover for any illegal activities anyone wanted to perform. But nothing told him what, if anything, actually was taking place.

He was able to talk briefly with On-Staya Sundew, the castle steward, and ask her if any official documents had gone missing. After all, a forger might be trying to replace a land grant with a larger one, or something like that. He really wanted to know if there were any documents here that might have born the seal that the forger had copied. She reacted by checking the ones she was concerned about, just as he'd hoped. None of them were old enough to have a seal before Uriel VII's, and most only bore a city or provincial seal anyway.

He'd have liked to talk with Hildara Mothril, the Countess' maid, as well, but Alessia Caro was visiting her mother in Chorrol, and Hildara was with her. Nobody else had access to the private quarters, so he had to leave that part of the castle unchecked.

Back in town, most of the talk related to the background rivalry between the Khajiits and Argonians. That was all at a low level and didn't represent anything significant. They'd always contested the city in the past, and having a buffer of neutral territory now let them jeer at each other without having to do anything serious.

If anything, they now had some common ground. Both sides seemed to resent the Countess and her Imperial ways, but held the Count in better favour, perhaps because he was at least doing something about the bandits. He didn't seem to be as distrusting of other races as his wife. He'd even made that Orc Mazoga a Knight-Errant and had her helping with the bandit problem. The reporter had his own suspicions that the Black Bow Bandits were too convenient as a distraction from other affairs.

Nobody told him anything that related to the forger, or that plot. Either they hadn't noticed, or they didn't think it was that important.

That all left him with a problem of what he could write for the Courier. He had the evidence of the quill and inkwell to confirm a forger at work, but couldn't disclose the nature of the actual document.

He could, however, take all the possibilities and print them, and see which ones provoked further tips from the public. Was the document connected to smuggling, or the Black Bow Bandits, or illegal immigration from Elsweyr and Black Marsh? Was the castle involved, or just a convenient warren for the forger to hide in? A good full-spectrum speculation was the right kind of article here.

---

Back at the Red Dragon Club, Taminwe gave him a long and vigorous debriefing. She was delighted at how well he had done in noticing all the little details. She took particular note of his conclusion that the seal had been made elsewhere. The reporter had noticed that the forger had had no materials or tools for creating it, so he must have brought it with him. He'd also need an impression of the real seal on a document, to make the fake seal match. There wasn't one in Leyawiin, as he'd discovered.

Leyawiin castle was the perfect place for the forged document to be "discovered", but that was no clue as to why it had to be created there. Perhaps they didn't want to risk any courier being intercepted by bandits or highwaymen?

Taminwe agreed with him about the article for the Courier. Stirring up talk about all the various issues in Leyawiin was the best way to make use of the current dead end. She had a few other pieces of information to add that he might find helpful.

The Champion had investigated the theft of a painting at Chorrol castle a while back. If the forger had been working there at the time, the investigation might have made him move on in a hurry. It was also possible that the document with Pelagius' seal came from Chorrol. The castle had had other thefts in the past, and the Honorblade had only recently been returned. One of those thefts might not have been what it seemed, especially if it involved a document.

I started this story over because I want to read it with fresh eyes. I'm up to the part where he's preparing to leave Skingrad (the reporter, that is). Pretty cool how there's all these vague traces of the "Champion" having been in town, yet nobody can relate a definite memory or story of him. I like that.

Bookmark: P51

More cloak and dagger. As ever, I love the wonderful references to known people/places/events. In this case ranging from dear Mazoga, to Countess Imperial White Bread, to paintings and Honorblades moving about in Chorrol. Great fun to read!

This mod sounds fun, seeking out new false leads to the throne, I'd really like to have seen some screens of Senchal !! Your mods are all interesting and fun, and tying them together through the Red Dragon Club (and Ocato, lol) is so cool !! Kind of like a series of new quest DLC or something!

As always, enjoyed this addition to the report!

How funny that Alessia Caro was visiting her mother in Chorrol. That woman is never in Leyawiin when you need her!

@Lady Saga: The Champion hasn't actually been in any episodes yet. I did have to decide that he was male, but he's of indeterminate race so far. The reporter is assigned to write a story about him, but never quite manages to do so.

@Acadian: This one's more "Cloak and Arrow". With a touch of Mysticism!

@mALX: In the mod, Senchal is left to the imagination, especially as that's where Taminwe gets some action. She just relates her success in the cousin's bed when she comes back, without being too explicit.

@Grits: If she didn't go off on those trips, you wouldn't be able to follow and watch her being chased by Land Dreugh and Will-o-the-wisps! (From a safe distance of course).

---

This next part follows the already-written mod, but after that I'll reverse the method: I'm currently adding a piece to the mod to match an episode or two that I'd written for here. I'll put more detail in the Mod Announcements section as it develops.

---

Enilwen

The reporter asked if all this meant he was going to Chorrol next. No, just that when he did have reason to go there, he'd know what to watch and listen out for. There were more urgent issues that might need his attention right now. One was the rumor of a plot to assassinate the Mane. He hadn't heard anything about that in Leyawiin, had he?

Since he hadn't, they'd have him ask around in Bravil. The Champion was already on his way to Skingrad to investigate there. Little was known at this stage. It was assumed that the conspiracy originated outside Elsweyr, as the Mane was almost universally respected as a uniting influence by the Khajiit themselves. While they still had differences between their tribes that caused periodic friction, none of them blamed any of that on the Mane. Rather, it was his mediation that kept it down.

However, any outsiders with designs on Elsweyr's territory would love to see civil war break out there, and the removal of the Mane could let that happen. Valenwood was the first "usual suspect" but they wouldn't act from there, or the war might not become a civil one if direct Bosmer involvement was found out. It could also be part of a more elaborate plot to start another war between Valenwood and Elsweyr, but that scenario was less likely to target the Mane in particular.

Taminwe herself couldn't take any part in the investigation, because she'd be busy with the representative from Shornhelm - the kingdom that Andorak Septim had been granted when he renounced his claim to the throne held by Cephorus II. The royal family there were distant cousins, but the Septim line had all but disappeared. The more remote fragments warranted some time, especially if the ambassador was worth her attention. He was here as a result of the Elder Council's formal request; Ocato was hoping she could make him a useful source of future information from High Rock. That province had been peaceful since the "Warp in the West", but no-one really knew if that could last.

That was a lengthy briefing, and he began to wonder if Taminwe really needed to tell him that much, or was just prolonging their cover activity. Not that he minded,

---

Bravil turned out to be an exercise in futility. The talk down there was all about the Archery Tournament, either the results of the last one, or else speculation about the next. There was a sprinkling of scandal at the extent of the skooma trade, which wasn't surprising with a den in the city itself, and the Count's son an addict. None of that was anything new, and the Mane didn't get a mention. There weren't any strangers in town, and all citizens were present and accounted for.

He returned to the Club to report that nothing, and was intrigued when Shurgak steered him to a new member of the staff. "Give her a try," he said, "I think you'll like this one."

Enilwen took him down the hallway and into the last room. She was a Bosmer, but fuller in the chest than most. Not to the point of making Nords jealous, but she wouldn't get overlooked among the others here. The rest of her was just as slender as you'd expect, which made them more noticable, especially in the Red Dragon Club uniform.

Enilwen in uniform

She explained that she'd just joined the staff and Taminwe had wanted her to introduce herself as one of his briefing crew, by giving him the details of the Mane plot. That had all gone down in Skingrad while he was covering Bravil.

It turned out that she also had a wicked sense of humour. When she had him in a particularly vulnerable situation, she told him that she was the one who had been recruited as the assassin!

They'd wanted an archer for the job, and naturally most of the best candidates were Bosmers. It would also be preferable if he or she were skilled enough in Alchemy to make poisons powerful enough for a single hit to be lethal. If necessary, the assassin could carry those in ready-made, but that was a risk they'd prefer not to take.

The problem with killing the Mane was that the thick covering of other Khajiit's hair that he wore was as effective as the best armor against any attack. It would stop any arrow, absorb any spell, and cushion any blow from a sword, mace or axe. But he had to breathe and eat, so his face was uncovered. A skilled enough archer could deliver a poisoned arrow that would do the job. One arrow only, as his guards would never allow a follow-up.

And the assassin would then have the problem of escaping. Invisibility gets the archer into position for the shot, but it dissipates immediately when the arrow is released. Only Chameleon would continue to protect the archer, and so she'd been working on that. She could cast the standard spell, and she'd found a leather cuirass enchanted at the same level. Not quite enough, but adding a ring or amulet would make all the difference.

Her contact, a Khajiit who refused to give his name, told her he'd try to get one for her. His master had a large network of agents he could call on. Again, she had no name for the master, but she knew he was male, and things the Khajiit said about him made her think he was of a different race.. She was curious, and pressed for more information, even sleeping with him in case that would loosen his tongue. It had helped, but not as much as she'd hoped.

He'd told her some of the things his master said. He obviously considered all Khajiiti to be inferiors, but there wasn't any suggestion that he was a Dunmer that wanted them back in slavery. The way the Khajiit refered to her made it obvious that she and the master were not the same race. He'd told the Khajiit at one point that he had more intelligence in the "tips of his ears" than her contact had in his head. That ruled out all the races of men, as well as the Argonians, and Orcs just wouldn't use that kind of language, because they didn't prize intelligence. So he must be an Altmer.

But back to the Chameleon. While the Khajiit, who she just called "Messenger", was off trying to get hold of her ring or amulet, she had a visit from the Champion of Cyrodiil. He'd found her practicing her archery out by the castle wall. She was shooting at long range, which was best done outside the city. He'd asked her if she'd ever used a Detect Life spell. She hadn't, as a good huntress doesn't need it. There are enough indications of prey or predator if you knew how to look and listen. She'd also heard that it made everything look fuzzy and unclear, not what an archer wanted.

He'd given her a scroll, and had her try it out. That's when she saw the flaw in her Chameleon strategy. The spell would not only make her visible, but they'd be able to see her lack of a tail, so she couldn't just merge into the crowd to escape. She didn't like the idea of being set up for a suicide mission, so she agreed to help the Champion instead.

They went back to the Two Sisters' Lodge in town, to wait for Messenger. He normally found her there when she ate her evening meal, so it was the logical place to start. He was already in there, and he had a ring for her.

She left the tavern following the Khajiit out to the sheep pasture beyond the vineyard. He wanted her to test out the new ring in combination with her cuirass and spell. If he judged it strong enough, she'd get her next round of instructions. The Champion followed at a distance, keeping her just barely in sight.

But the cat had keen eyesight, and spotted him. He attacked the Champion, expecting her to help. When she didn't, he commited suicide with a ring that set him on fire. They got no useful information from his corpse, either.

The Champion had quizzed her about how she was selected, and why she agreed to be the assassin. Messenger had seen her at archery practice shortly after she came into town and asked her if she wanted a well-paying job. He'd suggest that she join the Fighter's guild and get some training to further polish her skill - at his expense. Parwen has a good reputation as a trainer, although it's said she's not got the eyes to be a great marksman herself. "And it's true, she noticed little flaws in my technique right away." With the Khajiit, or rather his Altmer master paying, she took all the lessons she could.

It was quite a bit later that she found out what her target would be. As a Bosmer she didn't have any concern for the affairs of Elsweyr, unless it threatened Valenwood or the Empire. Messenger had implied that the Mane was a threat, but she was no longer sure who he meant was endangered. Probably just his master's interests.

Anyway, it appeared that the way she answered the Champion's questions, and her identification of the master's Altmer race, made him think she'd fit in here. He sent her up to the city to Taminwe, who had Ocato interview her for the job. She apparently made a good impression, enough for Taminwe to worry that she might not be Ocato's favorite any more!

Taminwe had told her that it was likely that there would eventually be an attempt on the Mane's life, but it would be harder for them to recruit another assassin once the Courier had published an appropriate report. It had to be made obvious that it would always be a suicide mission, and the brothers, all loyal Khajiits themselves, were composing an edition now. They could make it ring true for their own kind far better than any Imperial.

So the reporter had no immediate duties, apart from keeping Enilwen happy for a while longer, and getting to know her better.

You've got a lot of lore in this one between the Mane and the Khajiit slavery by the Dunmer - and LOVED how the deduction of race was made in this, it had me rolling !! Great Write !!!

Oh dear Enilwen. You’ve simply got to lose those shoes!

Marksman training and talk of the Tournament of Archers! A productive trip to Bravil methinks. Yes, Parwen is a better teacher than archer, bless her big. . . heart.

Our reporter is getting quite worldly here, now covering matters even beyond the borders of Cyrodiil. Like mALX, I enjoyed the roundabout deduction of the ‘Master’s’ Altmerhood.