Journal of a Wanderer - Semi-Hardcore Morrowind Playthrough

[Neriad13]

26th Frost Fall, Sadrith Mora, Gateway Inn

Tomorrow morning I embark on the riskiest heist of my life. I’m not unafraid. Actually, “I’m terrified” would probably be more like it. Even Helsende was reluctant to give me the job. She was gravely serious as she gave me the details and said that she wouldn’t think less of me if I turned down the job. This I took as a challenge and I hope that I don’t come to regret it. She says that it’s to be my last assignment for her here in Sadrith Mora and she’ll miss my efforts, but Aengoth is eagerly expecting me in Ald’ruhn.

The task is simple, if exceedingly dangerous. I’m to steal a wizard’s staff. The staff of a Telvanni Councilor’s retainer, as it sits beside him, high up in his twisted tower. If I’m discovered, escape routes are few and death is nearly certain. Helsende herself warned me as such.

I’ve spent the past few days arming myself if worse should come to worse. I’ve bought a robe enchanted to guard against magic attacks. I’ve learned new healing and ward spells. I’ve got a pack load of Almsivi and Divine Intervention ready to go. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be and still I quake at the thought of going up there. Whatever happens will happen and I’ll have to accept the consequences.

I’ll think I’ll take a stroll down to the TempleShrine before I board the ship tomorrow morning. A prayer or two can’t hurt a thing.

 

[Neriad13]

28th Frost Fall, Sadrith Mora, Gateway Inn

And with that, it’s over. My time in Sadrith Mora is at an end. Last night I grabbed the staff, though sweat was pouring down my face and into my eyes, though my hands shook, though the wizard was standing mere feet from the prize. I did it in the instant that his eyes were averted and keeping my breathing steady and my face calm, I solemnly walked out of there. Through masses of bodyguards and retainers, through the mounds of rotted kwama eggs that squished disgustingly under my feet, through the piles of stinking clutter that the mad Mistress Therana decorates her home with, I left as quietly as I came with a nary a soul the wiser.

It was only once I was on lower ground and in the privacy of the room in the local tradehouse that I finally let loose. I did a silly little dance, of joy, of triumph, of pure relief that my limbs are still attached to my body and that I came away with no appendages oozing odd colors. And then I slept, wanting to sail with the dawn and reach Helsende as soon as possible. It wasn’t a deep sleep mind you, but was colored by varying degrees of anticipation, excitement and nightmares of wizards creeping down the vines in the night to turn me inside out.

When I came up the stairs and Helsende saw me approaching with the staff in hand, she lit up. She said that she hadn’t expected anyone to be able to take the thing and was amazed that I’d actually succeeded. I smiled humbly, not answering. She then offered me a choice, the first and only she had ever given me – keep the staff or hand it over to the Guild. I pondered over it for a moment and then made my decision. I may be able to find a buyer for it myself, but even if I did, there was always a chance that the theft of the thing would be connected to my face ever after. Truth be told, ownership of the staff freaked me out and I wanted no Telvannis after me even if it was only a slim chance. I gave it up, saying that it was a gift to the Guild. Helsende took it gladly, gave me a cut of the money and then, an even more valuable gift.

It was a worn, dirty ring, marked with grime from who knows how many ages past. She pulled it off her own finger and plopped it into my confused palm. As it turns out, the ring is enchanted with telekinesis. No item is safe from my grasp now, even if it’s on the other side of a room.

Everyone came to shake my hand and pat me on the back. Well-wishes were exchanged and goodbyes were said. We all drank a round of flin in celebration of the Guild’s new acquisition, with tall Helsende hefting the staff miles above our heads as whooped and hollered.

It’s late now and I’ve got a bit of a headache, but it’s been a while since I’ve been so thoroughly satiated and yet so filled with bittersweet feelings. I don’t think that I’ll be leaving Sadrith Mora just yet. There’s still a few things around here worth stealing and I’d like to build a little capitol before making another move.

But I wonder how long I can stay out of trouble this time. That last escapade had to have taken up a massive chunk of the luck I was born with and something extraordinarily bad has got to happen to account for the imbalance. I shiver at what it might be, but at the same time I laugh it off as ludicrous superstition. As long as I stay on my toes and use the shadows as my guide, I have to win out in the end.

 

[Neriad13]

4th Sun’s Dusk, Ald’ruhn, Ald Skar Inn

I had such a grand time tonight. Who would’ve thought that my first night in Ald’ruhn would have proven to be so profitable? Or so fun? I feel like piling every single thing I’ve stolen tonight on my bed and rolling around in it in ecstasy, though considering that a fair bit of it is enchanted blades and alchemical reagents of a more volatile nature, perhaps not.

I rode in via stilt-strider this afternoon, after doing a little freelance thieving along the way and making a stop in Caldera to train with an adept Khajiit sneak. After I’d gotten myself settled in the inn, I headed over to the Rat in the Pot to greet Aengoth and possibly start work here. He took me aside and in hushed tones, told me about a great opportunity, this night only. He said that he had it on good authority that the mages of the local guild were off at some sort of conference tonight, leaving their wares unguarded and the building entirely empty. There was a certain enchanted tanto that he’d had his eyes on for some time and if I went that way, might I grab it for him? Grinning, I agreed and we shook hands heartily before parting.

As it turns out, the building was not entirely empty as he’d told me and I nearly had a bad situation with an angry mage on my hands. Again, it was pure luck that saved my neck - that and how quick I was on the draw. I saw him casting a paralysis spell and faster than I’d ever cast before, I used Almsivi Intervention to pull me out of there straight away.

For a second, I was furious, as I landed in an ungainly heap in the local temple courtyard. Aengoth’s intel was utter crap. Did he have something against me that I didn’t know about? Was he purposefully trying to get me killed? At least I’d been wearing my mask helm at the time, so the mage couldn’t have recognized me on the street.

A few minutes passed and I began to cool down. I stood up, dusted myself off and remembered that there was something inherently trustworthy in Aengoth’s character. We’d hit it off so well when we’d first met. He’d accepted me into the branch with open arms, as though I was already family. I was ashamed that I’d doubted him for a moment, set my teeth and tried again.

I walked right back up to that door again, took a swig of an invisibility potion that Helsende had given me as payment for a task and stepped right through. The mage’s ears twitched at the sound of the door opening, but he didn’t move, his nose thoroughly buried in a book at that point and a late supper in hand. Hardly daring to breathe, I crept past him and made it successfully to the inner sanctum.

Aengoth had not been wrong. Aside from the lone guard, the place was devoid of life. I set about my work with glee. I popped every lock, robbed every chest and closet and crate, nabbed all that was valuable within my sight. I stripped the place completely bare. It was better than my wildest dreams. An entire guild hall’s worth of treasure – just laying around, free for the taking. The tanto I carefully wrapped in a soft cloth and tucked in my bag when I found it. And when I had gathered up all that I could possibly carry and the hour was late, I teleported out of there as though I’d been nothing but a breath of wind.

Aengoth profusely apologized when I told him about the guard. He honestly hadn’t known about him, though the mages had known something of the Guild’s plans. It’s all a bit suspicious and I have to wonder if there is a mole in the Guild. As to who it might be, I have no idea. I’m the new blood here and don’t know much about Guild politics yet. I’ll just have to be extra careful where I step and keep an ear out for anything suspicious.

As for tomorrow, my next task is to locate a ceremonial Redoran Master Helm in the manor of one of the Councilors. It should be a good time, after the success of the last time I’d burgled a Redoran’s manor.

 

[Neriad13]

5th Sun’s Dusk, Ald’ruhn, Ald Skar Inn

By Azura, Mephala, Molag Bal, the whole host of daedra, Almsivi, Stendarr, Mara, Akatosh, Dibella and whoever the heck else claims some sort of divinity, I think I’ve outdone myself today. I’m a bit embarrassed by it, to be honest. What kind of a person scores that many hits in the space of a few hours or reads the mind of the boss that thoroughly that two jobs are already done before he even asks? It was ridiculous, but it happened.

I spent the morning creeping about Arobar Manor, poking my nose into things I oughtn’t, picking up whatever interested me while leisurely searching for the helm. At last, I located it, on top of a closet in the bedroom of Master Arobar himself. He and his wife were in the bedroom too, seated on a pile of cushions in their grand clothes, eating a breakfast of something that smelled wonderful and made my mouth water merely scenting it.

For a bit, I was unsure of how to proceed. I hid behind the screen that separated their bed from the rest of the room, thinking it over. They were awfully close to the helm. If I stretched and strained to get it from the top of the tall closet, they’d undoubtedly notice and bring down the law on my head. I’d have to be sneakier about it. Absentmindedly, I twirled Helsende’s ring around my thumb. It was just a little too big for me and I’d been wearing it on my thumb to prevent possible heartache if I should lose it. And then I had an idea. Slipping off my shoes so as to not track the dirt of Ald’ruhn all over the happy couple’s pillows, I climbed on top of the bed and made myself as small as possible in the furthest corner of the room. I was out of their line of sight. I cast the ring’s spell.

The helm came flying directly at me and for a second I was terrified that it would bowl me over and make a huge racket. But my hands reacted with far more efficiency than my mind and I caught it perfectly, like a child playing catch. It was an ugly thing, just like the other helm I’d stolen and sold some time ago, insectoid in appearance, covered in bizarre ridges and grooves. But, a client gets what a client wants.

Aengoth was pleased to receive it and after he’d paid me, immediately told me about another client who’d like some dirt on the Arobars, specifically one who was known to secretly worship Boethiah. My mouth agape, I pulled a book that I’d taken from the Arobar Manor just that morning from my bag and handed it to him. It was of a sort that I’d never seen before and thus, I picked it up while I was in. Laughing, he flipped through it and tossed me a few enchanted amulets, whispering that I shouldn’t tell anyone that I got them from him.

Seeing that I was looking for another job, he ran down his ledger and picked out another client, this one who wanted to secure a copy of the rare book “Withershins.” I almost fell to the floor for lack of air from laughing myself. I’d just stolen that very book from the Mages’ Guild yesterday. When I came back with it from my room, Aengoth paid me far more than it was worth and then gave me a very grave expression.

He did have another job for me, but it wasn’t one that was without danger. He’d recently secured some Dwemer spiders to act as guards for the Guild, but they were in severe need of repairs. Naturally, the adventurer who’d sold them to him had to hack them nearly to bits in order to preserve his own safety. This was where I come in. What I need to do is delve into a Dwemer ruin and bring back some scrap metal with which to repair the monsters. He advised that I don’t have to go in too deep, just get in and out when I have what we need.

I’m deathly terrified. Divines know I don’t like venturing outside of the civilized world all too often, where nothing is predictable and just about everything tries to kill you. I hate spending any length of time away from a warm bed and a cool tankard of sujamma. But I’ve also heard that ruins are a great source of valuable treasure and mysterious ancient technology that any mage worth his salt would pay dearly for. There’s a booming trade in illicit artifact sale, though I’ve had very little to do with it personally. This might be a great opportunity or it may very well be my neck. I'm not entirely certain that Aengoth isn't trying to kill me now, but why he'd do it is beyond me.

 

[Gowsh]

I'm sorry I haven't been gushi
Ng over this thread as much as I wanted to.

I'm blocked from posting at work and lost Internet at home.

I'm just loving these posts,

Thanks much and please continue them as long as you like.

 

[Neriad13]

11th Sun’s Dusk, Ghostgate, Tower of Dusk

It’s been an exceedingly pleasant couple of days, excepting the last one, but I’ll get to that later. For now, I’ll take a few depth breaths, keep to my corner and try to drown out the incessant prattling of my oh-so-undemanding charge.

The Dwemer scrap metal was astoundingly easy to get and all my worries of bronze automatons cleaving me to the bone were for nothing. I stopped at the Ald’ruhn alchemist to see if I couldn’t sell off a few mortars and pestles that I’d picked up in my spree in the Mages’ Guild and was flooded with relief to discover that she had quite a bit of scrap metal for sale. We conducted our business and I thanked her profusely, shaking her hand a little too vigorously before going on my way.

Aengoth paid me extremely well for the metal. After that, I felt like I’d earned a bit of a break. I spent a bit of time in Caldera spending my bounty training with a master sneak whom I’d met with on a previous visit there. He was a great companion in those long hours spent in the inn room, always laughing at my jokes and passing me his skooma pipe (I took a puff once, but didn’t much like it).

By night, I stole into homes and shops, making a great sport of what I could get away with in the use of my new skills. When my education came to an end and all my stolen goods were exchanged for cold coin, I lay back on the verdant hill outside the city, nibbling on a blade of grass and thought, “Why not walk back to Ald’ruhn?” The day was beautiful, the air smelt of flowers, the road beckoned to me and I’d seen so little of Morrowind since I’d arrived. I realized that I hardly knew a thing of Vvardenfell’s flora and fauna. It was all so bizarre and strange and unnerving. I’d been keeping myself busy for months in familiar-looking alleyways and seedy shops in order to stave off homesickness. It had been so long since I’d just laid back, relaxed and learned. I thought that if I stood still for just a moment, the homesickness would overtake me and wash me away. The longer I kept to familiar things, the longer I could pretend that I wasn’t miles away in a fiery, volcanic land populated by insects too massive to exist anywhere else.

But now, nearly four months into it, I think I’m finally coming to the realization that Morrowind is home now, like it or not. And I’m surprisingly fine with that. There were friends I had in Cyrodiil that I’ll never see again due to my own foolishness. There were places that I loved and haunts that were my home. But I can never go back there again. At least, not in this century. When the injured parties are dead and forgotten, maybe then can I return to the place of my youth at last.

I think that the Guild had quite a lot to do with it. They’d received me with an open arms when I was just a beggar wandering in to ask for directions. They’ve helped me grow and taught me what I needed to know to survive here. I’ve made so many new friends to stave off the loneliness.

Gods damn it.

Will she not shut her craw while I’m trying to wax sentimental?

There we go. Silence at last, if just for a minute.

“I’m not doing it tonight!” I yelled across the room at her, “We’ve made excellent time and if there’s one thing I absolutely won’t do, it’s walk through the Ghostgate in the dark!”

Her name is Viatrix Petilia and for tonight, we’re most unfortunately roommates. I met her on the road, on the way back to Ald’ruhn. She looked alone and lost, not to mention extremely wealthy. As I passed by, she called out to me, saying that she was on a pilgrimage to Ghostgate and if I’d escort her, she’d give me a tip. Still filled with the spirit of adventure, I thought “Why not?” and took the job.

It was an adventure just getting here. The road was thick with blighted creatures and filled with danger. Several times I had to heal some nasty-looking scrapes sustained in fights with diseased cliffracers or kagoutis, thank the Temple I’d thought to learn that spell months ago, back in Balmora. Viatrix merely complained about her dress being ruined and how a good bodyguard shouldn’t let that happen in the first place. I tuned her out and kept on. We were making record progress, though I didn’t quite know where I was going and was mainly relying on the occasional road sign stuck in the charred, cracked earth.

When I turned a bend and sighted the Ghostgate itself up ahead, I froze in my tracks, not knowing what it was and afraid to step any closer. Viatrix had a field day laughing at my naiveté and I wish I’d known what to expect if only to have been able to avoid amusing her, though that would have been a sheer impossibility.

Once we got closer to it, my fear and loathing turned to wonder. It’s made of a beautiful blue glow that tingles when I touch it. The sound it makes vibrates in the depths of my ears and down to the soles of my feet. It gives me a headache if I stick around too long, though my curiosity always keeps me near to dangerous things regardless.

Viatrix smiled genuinely, for the first time, upon reaching it. She looked down its length with the awe of a tourist and told me how the entire thing was a monument to devotion and steadfastness. Which were of course, things that a person like me couldn’t understand, she finished, reverting right back to her snobbish self.

But I have to agree with her on that, though I’ll never say it aloud. There’s so much that I don’t understand. I know so little of the history of the ground that I stand on or of the beliefs that run so deeply through the veins of its people. I know fear of the unknown well enough. I know of profit and caution. I pray when I’m afraid, without regard for creed, to whoever might be listening. But of the wider world, of spirits and ancestors, gods and daedra, I know next to nothing. I wonder why there is such a thing as a Ghostgate. I wonder how gods can walk and live among mortals in Morrowind. I wonder at what manner of life I’ve been thrust into in being dropped off here.

For tonight, I’ll merely get what sleep I can, seeing as how Viatrix claimed the room’s one bed for herself and insisted that I sleep on the floor. I’ve promised that I’ll get her to the shrine just inside the gates in the early morning. It shouldn’t be too bad of a journey, though I’ve no idea what to expect when I pass the threshold.

Storms rage beyond the gate constantly. Dust beats on the roof and walls of the tower and I can hear the building’s foundations shift with every gust. I’ve brought an old skirt which I’ll dampen with a bottle of water and wrap around my nose and mouth come morning, so I’ll at least be assured of breathing once I enter. But I don’t know how much protection that’ll be from the blight. I try not to worry about it. I remember that the tower’s right here, fully stocked with Temple healers who probably deal with that sort of thing all the time, if the worse should come to pass.

Perhaps I’ll pray at the indoor shrine before leaving anyway, though Viatrix will most likely hurry me along.

 

[Neriad13]

12th Sun’s Dusk, Ald’ruhn, Temple

Disaster. Total, utter, wordless, faithless, sickening disaster. My hands are still shaking as I write this, so much that I can hardly cross my Ts. I can’t believe I left her there. I can’t believe I failed so miserably.

I wonder if it’s blasphemous to cry into the ashes of the dead. Because I can’t stop doing it. They plop down into the pit, splashing down the ridges of dry skulls, making dark indentations in the gray remains.

I was afraid and I ran. My own life was in peril, so I left another to die. The moment the both of us crossed the threshold, we were greeted by a man in pale robes stinking of ash, with magic at his fingertips. I hurled myself at him, jamming my sword at his throat, slashing and hacking any part of him I could reach. His blood was the color of tar. It’s still staining my sword and I drop it in disgust.

He hurt me more than I could him and as my life drained away, my terror got the better of me. I used the scrolls I’d come to so thoroughly depend upon and found myself back in Ald’ruhn. A dust storm raged around me, stinging my open wounds, setting my eyes aflame. The sky was boiling red, the clouds like curdled milk. I gagged against the wet cloth around my throat and fell backwards into the temple.

It has to be the Blight. I’ve never seen such a violent storm before or a sky that tortured. I can hear the wind ripping the banners from their posts outside. I can listen to the individual grains of sand hitting the sturdy clay walls of the temple.

I have to go back out there. I have to find her. I have to know if she’s all right. I have to sneak up on that…thing and slit its throat.

I’m feeling a little better now. My healing magic has kicked in and fixed me up at last. I’ll need spells and potions. I’ll need a new sword or a set of throwing stars. I need to pray for forgiveness and strength. And I need to get moving now.

I really do know nothing of devotion.

 

[Neriad13]

13th Sun’s Dusk, Ghostgate, Tower of Dusk

She’s dead.

I found her corpse lying in the sand yesterday, half-buried by the storm. Her tattered silk blew like the petals of faded flowers in the harsh wind. I crawled up to her though the wind beat me back, though the dust clogged my eyes, wary and fearful of what might be watching us. I brushed a strand of hair from her still face and tried to dig her out, but dropped her immediately when I saw the horrific marks on the buried side of her body. Skin peeled away from bone. Terrific boils growing from her flesh. Marks of fingernails running down the sides of her neck.

I sighed, choked back a sob and turned to leave.

I saw him.

He crouched in the shadow of the gate, his pale robe whipping around him, his bare limbs spindly and grotesque. Hot fury boiled up from my stomach and stung the back of my throat. My jaw clenched and the only thought in my head was to see him burn.

I let him have it, launching the fiery doom that I’d bought from an enchanter in town, hearing him shriek as it seared his pitted flesh. I hit him again and again, intense pleasure flooding my body with every screech, hardly feeling his own blows to me until the edges of my vision went dark and the world turned upside down.

I was told that an Armiger dragged me in. She’d been on patrol when she’d sighted my torn body sticking up out of the dust, nearly buried myself. It had taken some daring, but she’d driven back the ash ghoul, as she called it and dragged me back inside.

The Temple healers had saved my life and now they berate me for my foolishness. I vomit up everything I try to eat. I can’t walk very far without finding myself flat on my face. Everything aches and my limbs weigh must weigh ten thousand pounds apiece. I don’t know what I’m going to do.

I’m a murderer three times over now. How can anyone ever forgive me? How can I forget what I’ve done? How can I not be haunted by the faces of those I’ve killed?

I swear I can hear the sound of the Ghostgate in my dreams, humming through the floor, rattling my teeth, leeching the warmth from my bones.

 

[Neriad13]

14th Sun’s Dusk, Ald’ruhn, Guard Tower I

This is it. I’ve made my way back to Ald’ruhn in one piece through a raging storm, packed my things and said my goodbyes. In minutes, I leave for parts hitherto unseen and unknown to me. I don’t relish going back out into the dust and my palms are sweaty with fear, but I’m committed now.

I returned to the Rat in the Pot somewhat bashfully, unsure of how to say what I was going to say and not even entirely sure if I could get up the courage to say it. The Dwemer spider in the front hall distracted me tidily from my qualms. It was just so totally unexpected, though I know that it was my hand who put it there. I smiled at its funny antics, its spindly legs and bulbous body, the way it crept about so delicately, like a thief itself.

After I’d spent enough time dallying with it, reality set in again and I knew I had to accomplish the task I’d gone in there for. I crept down the stairs to Aengoth and found him fiddling with a tiny lockbox, trying to pry its mechanism open with a lockpick no bigger than a hair.

“Uh…” I said, all the blood in my body rushing to my face.

He looked up, ceasing his work, his fatherly bearded visage suddenly lined with worry, a flicker of suspicion in his chestnut eyes.

“I’m going to be leaving for a while.” I whispered in a low monotone, “Perhaps a long while. I don’t know if I’ll ever be returning.”

At that moment a bolt of pain fired from the space behind my eyes and I grabbed my forehead in agony, waiting for it to pass. When I next opened my eyes, I saw Aengoth staring dead at me, fear and anxiety in his gaze. He looked sad and hurt, as though he’d been betrayed or lost something vital. Then he pulled his curly hair back from his forehead, grinned and shook my hand warmly. He thanked me for all the time I’d spent with the Guild, the services I’d done and the goals I’d accomplished. He said that he’d sincerely miss me and was truly grateful for the time that we had spent working together.

Tongue-tied, I mumbled my goodbyes and speedily got out of there, where the raging sand could blast the mistiness from my eyes.

Outside the door of this tower, the road lies before me. I’ve walked it before and know the way, but I’ve never followed it to the end I’m reaching now. I don’t know what I’ll find when I make it there, back to Balmora. I don’t know if I’ll be accepted or if I can ever atone for what I’ve done.

But the walk there I’m going to enjoy, however perversely. Maybe the sand will smooth away all the bad parts of my being on my journey back home. I wonder if there’ll be anything left by the end.

 

[Neriad13]

15th Sun’s Dusk, Balmora, Temple

I’ve done it. Already I feel the burden of sin lessening, though my soul still groans at what I’ve done. It wasn’t an easy thing to do and the other initiates, knowing that I was once a thief, don’t seem to trust me within an inch of their belongings. When they saw me stumble into the dormitory, there was a quiet but present uproar as they set about locking their valuables away and stashing their fortunes in secret corners. I can’t blame them for that, though the sideways glances and displeased sneers hurt me. It isn’t every day that a Thieves’ Guild Captain becomes a layman.

This morning I outran the storm, though the winds battered me and the flying sand rubbed my bare knuckles raw. It felt good to run, to be alone with the elements. All there was was the pounding of my own footsteps on the cracked earth and the moaning of the wind as it swept the desert. It gave me time to think and the exercise felt good after having been bedridden. I strolled through the gates of Balmora near dusk, ate a quick supper, though my stomach was uneasy, swallowed my fear and headed up the steps to the Temple, my fists clenched at my sides.

Feldrela Sadri, the priestess of this temple, was where she always was, where I had first met her many months ago and poured out my troubles on her listening ear. I didn’t know if she’d remember me or if she’d recall the offer she had made when I first darkened her doorstep. But I found myself trusting her implicitly, as I had when we’d first met. I walked up to her, breathing heavily. She looked at me with a start, worry lining her features. I think I may have been a little pale or possibly quite green.

“I’m a thbbb…” I said, sputtering, unable to make my tongue form the word.

“A what?” she asked, sincerely confused.

“A thief!” I hissed under my breath, finally spitting it out, perhaps a bit more loudly than I’d intended, “A-And a murderer. I…I want to change.”

I braced myself as though for a blow, thinking for certain that she’d bring the local garrison down on my head. It was just as frightening when I found her arms wrapped around me.

She was overjoyed. She greeted me as a daughter, welcoming me with open arms into the fellowship and listening to my troubles as she had in the past. I couldn’t tell her everything – not about Ondres Nerano, as the murder was so recent and Sugar-Lips had protected me from the charges. But about Viatrix I gave her the whole story. I told her about how, it seems so long ago now, I’d broken into a shop of rare collectables in Imperial City and midway through the raid, had found the owner of the shop awake and angry. He’d stumbled into me on his way to a midnight bathroom break, saw my pack of valuables and taken the law into his own hands. In terror for my life and livelihood, I’d unthinkingly stabbed him. He was an old man and one hit had taken him down. Bleeding profusely, he’d gripped the front of my shirt as he went down, smearing his life all down my clothes. I was afraid and with the bloody blade in my hand, I’d bolted, bumping directly into a night guard patrolling just outside.

The shop owner cane from a rich and influential family. They were heartbroken and enraged over his death and did everything in their power to lock me up until my own passing should occur, perhaps centuries in the future. I hadn’t expected to ever see the sun again. I didn’t know why I’d been let loose or dropped off in Morrowind. I told her that I’d been wandering without purpose, without goals beyond staying alive and profiting off of the gains of others. I knew nothing of faith, nothing of devotion or love or honor. I was naught but a ship that had lost its anchor and torn its sails asunder, drifting aimlessly in the open sea as its wailing crew starved to death.

She listened, nodding sadly. And then she handed me a book. She said that if I wished to learn, if I wished to repent, I ought to go on pilgrimage. I would have to go it alone and on foot, crawling if need be through ash and rain, wind and lightening. But by the end of it, I will have learned something of the gods and of myself and hopefully grown stronger in the faith.

There’s so much I have to get together before I go. Food, tools, scrolls, donations for all the shrines I’ll be visiting. I’m excited and fearful of what’s to come. To complete my pilgrimage, I’ll have to return to Ghostgate and reach the shrine that Viatrix never made it to. I’ll have to fight my way past untamed dreugh. I’ll have to trek through barren landscapes and brave the elements like I never have before. Maybe, through hardship and travel, I’ll find what’s been missing from my life and a way to right the wrongs that I’ve done.

 

[Neriad13]

18th Sun’s Dusk, Balmora

At last, everything is set to go and I stand on the threshold of the city ready to depart. All my donations are in order, I’ve trained hard to reach this point, I have a good supply of food for the road, plenty of scrolls to whisk me away should I get into trouble and I’ve dressed myself simply in only the weathered garb required of a pilgrim. I’m terribly nervous about it all and feel nearly naked without some armor at least.

Hopefully today’s journey should be a short one, provided that I don’t run into any hostile wildlife on the road. I should be able to make it to Suran by nightfall and find a bed for rent there. In the morning, I’ll find the Fields of Kummu, where, the guide said, Lord Vivec helped a lowly farmer work his fields.

Here goes. Everything else is behind me now – the guild, the murders, Ghostgate, everything awful I’ve ever done in my life.

I move my toe an inch forward and find myself reborn.

 

[Neriad13]

19th Sun’s Dusk, Suran

Things did not going according to plan, but that I’m perfectly fine with. I stumbled upon the Fields of Kummu Shrine as I picked my way around the verdant countryside, finding it completely on accident. It was a humble thing, surrounded by common field flowers, with nothing but the shimmer of the lake to serve as its backdrop. I knelt down, pulling out the little sachet of muck that I’d been carrying in my pocket and laid it at its base.

I didn’t know what I expected to happen. But not much did. A cool wind swept the sweat from my brow. I heard the sound of waves lapping on the shore below. I tried to think about Humility, but didn’t quite know where to start. I had no idea what I was doing here.

Sighing, my thoughts turned to more practical things. It was nearing sunset and I still hadn’t made it to Suran. I’d have to find a place to sleep before it was too late in the evening and I was deathly scared of sleeping out in the wilderness, having never been one for camping trips.

I carried on a little ways down the road until I met another traveler, a distressed-looking Bosmer. It had been a few hours since I’d seen another person and I stopped to ask him if I was heading in the right direction. Instead, he told me of his troubles, how he and his friend had been walking to Vivec together when they’d gotten separated. That was hours ago and now he feared the worst. The friend in question was of quite a scholarly disposition and had gone off to investigate some natural phenomena. Moreover, this wasn’t the first time that his curiosity had gotten him in trouble.

I smiled gently, laying aside my troubles and offering to help. Someone might as well get some use out of this day, if it wasn’t going to be me. I crept up a nearby hill, hoping to gain some clues and my heart nearly stopped as a toothy kagouti came charging down at me.

I was caught, unprotected and barely armed with a wild animal bearing down on top of me. Sucking in my breath, I drew my sword and defended myself. His teeth did a number on my shoulder and I was panting with effort by the end of the fight, but he lay at my feet at last. Grunting, I healed myself and ripped the bloodied sleeve from my robe. Being exceedingly cautious this time, I crawled, belly-down, the rest of the way up, sighting another kagouti dead ahead of me. There was something at his feet, angular and not of the natural world. Keeping calm, I crept up behind him and stabbed him in the back before he had a chance to react. Picking up my prize, I found that it was a tattered notebook of research notes. The owner had to be close. And soon enough, I found him.

He was a spindly Dunmer in ragged-looking silks who had wedged himself high above the ground between two overhanging boulders. He was very thankful to be able to use me as a pillow to land on. On the way down the road to his friend he prattled on about the mating habits of the kagouti he’d stopped to study, fascinated by them even as they’d become violent toward his research methods.

The two of them were overjoyed to meet again and the Bosmer took an enchanted amulet from around his neck and handed it to me. I thanked him profusely, shocked by his act of kindness. My pockets had been dangerously close to empty and seeing how thieving is not something a Temple layman should be engaging in, I wasn’t sure how I was going to go about getting more money.

In fact, I was humbled by it. When both of us were in need, he was the one who had ended up helping me. As the sun set, we shook hands and split paths on good terms. I hiked for a long while beneath the stars, striving through the darkness, trying to forget my worry and weariness. When I was nearly asleep on my feet, I stumbled upon a large plantation with a ramshackle slave shack on the edge of the fields. A slave saw me skulking around the edges of the fields and putting a finger to his furry lips, directed me inside. Suspicious even in my lethargy, I crept inside.

The shack was a mess – trash all over the floor, bedrolls laid out haphazardly in the dirt. The slave said that he had heard of what had happened in Caldera. Every slave in the company was just up and gone one morning and only a passing shadow had been seen fleeing the scene in the rain the night before. The slaves themselves had described the shadow quite differently however. It couldn’t possibly be anyone familiar, now could it?

I laughed uneasily at his question, trying hard not to step on something disgusting and he only grinned cattishly, pointing me to an empty bedroll in the far corner. I spent the night there, having a far better sleep than I thought I’d get and leaving with the sunrise before the slavemaster awoke to find me there.

As it turned out, Suran was just down the road and its gates appeared before me as I turned a bend. As I also discovered, it was not nearly as hospitable as the decrepit slave shack that I’d spent the night in. The very streets are filled with moonsugar and prostitution here. There’s corruption around every corner, a bottle of skooma on every table and the first thing I ran into upon entering town was a slave market. The old roguishness still running strong in me, I crept inside to see if anything could be done. There was a key on the master of the house, but when I tried to take it, he felt my hand in his pocket and went at me with his fists in fury. I darted through the front door, slamming it behind me and leaning on it heavily, as I heard him shrieking curses at me from behind the barricade.

I slipped off into an alleyway and here I am. I can’t stay here. They’re bound to find me eventually if I stick around too long and besides, there’s no beds for rent in town. I think I should head for Vivec while I can, comfort be damned.

 

[Neriad13]

20th Sun’s Dusk, Vivec, Library of Vivec

I had a wretched night. Well, not so much a night now as an early morning that went on and on. The journey started out promising enough. After a day of wandering through the various verdant plantations on the lakeside, I finally located the road to Vivec and went on my way with the glittering stars above as my guide. Nearing midnight, I ran into another traveler on the road, a trader of fine clothing and his pack guar heading in the same direction. I greeted him cordially and stopped for a bit of a chat. When I turned to leave, he waved his arms frantically, asking if we could travel together, as he’d heard that the road to Vivec had become a bit dangerous as of late.

I cringed at the thought, thinking back on how well the last time I’d escorted anyone anywhere had gone. Seeing my hesitation, he immediately offered me money should I walk with him. I refused him repeatedly, but since we were heading in the same direction anyway, it was impossible to lose him. Sighing heavily and knowing I could use the money, I gave in.

I think the old man just wanted someone to talk to. He went on and on about his loveable guar and the injustice of it all that he wasn’t allowed into the city when he’s such a polite and well-behaved beast. By the end of the journey, I couldn’t help but smile at Rollie the Guar and give him a pat on the head when we had to leave him behind at the gates of Vivec.

The clink of gold in my palm pleased me even more. He waved goodbye as the two of us parted on good terms. I went off to see if I couldn’t find a bed to fall into.

This was where I ran into trouble. By now it was the very early morning and every door in the city was locked up tight. Furthermore, Vivec is a maze. I’d passed by the city numerous times on my way to other places, but this was the first time I’d actually set foot in the place itself.

I spent the night wandering about the cantons, in a waking nightmare of tight hallways, dark corridors and endless walls of clay. Every door I knocked on contained unfriendly company and rude remarks. I felt the eyes of the city guards watching my every move through the stern eyeholes of their bronze helms.

In the daylight, I can’t blame them for that now. I must look like a filthy vagabond, what with my travel-stained, one-sleeved robe and the muck on my feet from one too many shortcuts through freshly-plowed fields.

By sunrise, I must’ve been one of the walking dead, blearily going through the motions without any real force behind my actions. Of all people, an Ordinator took pity on me and gave me his bed in the barracks to respite on. I don’t feel entirely comfortable staying here and sleeping in another man’s bed, though I was grateful for the rest. There’s got to be somewhere else to stay in this city. How could there not be, what with so many shrines about for passing pilgrims to visit?

I’ve got plenty of time to continue my search. That much I do know. Now that the sun is setting again, just after I’d awoken, my entire sleep schedule is turned around. I’m wide awake and energetic as the shadows grow and not entirely sure of what to do with myself in the meantime. Perhaps a midnight visit to the Shrine of Daring would be in order. I certainly don’t have the presence of mind to go trifling with a Telvanni wizard at this hour.

That was another adventure that I thought I’d dreamed in the night. But when I woke up, I found that the gold was still in my pocket and figured that it had to have been real. While I wandered about the cantons, half-dead with sleeplessness, dimly knocking on doors, a voice coming from empty air gave me the scare of my life. I very nearly fell over when I heard it whispering directly in my ear and smelled the distinct stench of scuttle on its breath. It said that its owner had been turned invisible by a wizard and that no one would help him, thinking him to be a spirit or a ghost.

“So could you please tell my father that I’m all right?” he finished in wheedling tones, spewing his stink-breath from Azura-knows-where.

I was close to walking away. I didn’t quite believe him myself and had bigger problems on my mind, at least to me. But his father’s shop was right in front of me and I had the vain hope that he might let me crash in his home. No such offer was made, though he paid me a handful of coin for the news. The bags under my eyes steadily darkening, I began to move on.

He followed me, breathing down the back of my neck, begging for more help, pleading with me to confront the wizard who’d done this to him. I eventually ended up shouting at the patch of empty air in front of a crowd of people just waking up and taking their morning strolls.

I promised I’d help him, though it was just to get him away from me for the moment. However, I didn’t say when I’d do it. He can certainly wait a little longer.

 

[Neriad13]

21st Sun’s Dusk, Vivec, Foreign Quarter, Black Shalk Cornerclub

I spent the entire day running about the city looking for a smith, as I’d found my shield and weapons in bad need of repair after the beating they’d taken from the wildlife I’d encountered on the journey here. I darted back and forth, from the High Fane to the Foreign Quarter and back again, only to discover at the end of the day, as I slunk back to the Foreign Quarter, that the services I’d been seeking had been right where I had started. At least I’ll know where to head come morning.

The good news is that I did find a cornerclub that rents beds. It doesn’t seem terribly reputable, contains a lot of rough customers and its level of hygiene leaves something to be desired. But it’s thousands of times better than the temple I stumbled upon today. The priest was kind enough and offered one of the dormitory beds to me. It seemed like a comfortable place until I discovered the rats.

The temple is plagued by them, all diseased, all shedding fur in haphazard patches, all nibbling on the bones of the dead. Suffice to say that I got out of there rather quickly before one of them could give me a nasty bite. By contrast the Black Shalk seems like a great place now and I’m eternally grateful that it exists.

However, the last day hasn’t been a total waste. Last night I dared the Shrine of Daring. It was magnificent thing, surrounded by flowers that glowed in the moonlight, commemorating Lord Vivec’s mastery over the moon itself. I left my offering and said a little prayer, as I’d been instructed to do, though I stumbled over the words and fumbled up the ending.

As soon as I’d finished, I felt a lightness coming over me. It was a feeling similar to that which I’d experienced after drinking too much flin. I thought I was going to faint, but when I took a step to the side to avoid fainting on the shrine, I found my foot standing perfectly steady on a patch of nothing at all. I took another step and bit by bit, walked into the sky. I flew around the tops of all the cantons, laughing in pure glee and wonder, flying beside the moons and stars themselves in their velvet settings.

It was amazing to see Vivec from above. The homely cantons that I’d come to hate so much looked so much grander from the night sky, immense and glorious, a monument to ingenuity.

I came in for a landing in the Foreign Quarter and fell asleep hovering inches above my bed. When I awoke, the spell was broken and I thought I’d dreamed it, as I’d dreamed so many things in recent days. But there was an odd bounce in my step come morning and a lightness in my heart that I haven’t replicated before or since and I knew that it had to have happened.

 

[Neriad13]

22nd Sun’s Dusk, Vivec, Palace of Vivec

It’s amazing to think that right beyond this door is one gifted with immortality. I’m almost tempted to fiddle with the lock on it and see if I can’t disarm the trap. I miss playing with locks – twisting the pick this way and that until I find the sweet spot and satiate my curiosity about what’s behind it. I even popped the lock of a chest in the cornerclub last night just to see if I could still do it. To my joy, I saw that I could and I flipped the lid open triumphantly. There was a small pile of gold inside, gleaming darkly in the dim room. My heart sinking, I slowly closed the lid without taking anything.

It wasn’t put there for me. And I can do without.

As for meeting Lord Vivec, I’m not sure if I would want to do something like that. What on earth would I say to him? What could one ask of a god? There’s a lock here that’s a challenge when I lay my eyes on it, but I’ve no idea what to do with the treasure beyond the door. Perhaps I will meet him someday, when I’ve proven myself worthy and gained a thousandfold more faith than I now possess.

At any rate, that’s another shrine down. It hurt me a little to lay down so much gold at the Shrine of Generosity, but now that it’s gone, I do feel better for having come here.

Tomorrow I’ll head to the first shrine that I’m genuinely afraid of – the Shrine of Courtesy. It’s in the center of a maze below Vivec’s Palace, guarded by a dremora and built to test the faithfulness of Temple devotees. I’m to present the daedra with a silver longsword when I reach him in order to complete the pilgrimage. I’m not sure what to expect in the winding canals, but I fear what I’ll meet below the ground and getting lost once more in another nightmare of endless hallways.

But that’ll be tomorrow’s problem. For today, I’ll track down that smith at last, stock up on food, should I be lost for days and perhaps even find out if I can’t put that cursed, smelly fellow out of his misery at last.

 

[Neriad13]

22nd Sun’s Dusk, Vivec, Foreign Quarter, Black Shalk Cornerclub

I’ve just had what must be among the most ridiculous encounters I’ve ever had in my life. I tracked down the wizard who had cursed my invisible friend and asked him why he’d done it. I was told that the foolish boy had asked him to do it because he just wanted people to leave him alone. He hadn’t even paid the wizard for the service as he’d agreed and until he pays his debt, he isn’t going to remove the spell. Solemnly shaking my head, I walked through the indoor mushroom garden of the Telvanni Compound and headed back to Saint Delyn’s to pass along the news.

It took some searching, but eventually I managed to bump into an invisible obstacle and assumed that I’d found the person I was looking for. I couldn’t see his face as I berated him for his short memory and lack of foresight, but I’m sure I heard a muffled sob from his general direction. He chased me down the stairs and out into the open air, begging me to pay it for him. It hurt to hear him crying behind me and I wanted to relent, to help him get his life back. But the truth of the matter was that I simply didn’t have the money. I took a deep breath of scuttle-scented air and kept walking, not looking back once.

The smith that I came to for repair yielded a sort of disappointment too. As he was polishing my blades and hammering my shield back into shape, he chatted about the rival smith down the block. He’d heard that he gotten a huge order, bigger than what he sells in a month. There had to be some shady business behind that and he’d heard something about a traveling Thieves’ Guild Captain in the area, if perhaps that person might wish to help him out?

I wanted to do it badly. The excitement, the sneaking, the thrill of sticky fingers. He most likely would have paid me too, which I could have used badly, as I’m beginning to get to the bottom of my purse. But I swallowed thickly and told him no. I wasn’t in the market for work today. Today, I was nothing but a simple pilgrim.

He understood, harboring no hard feelings before finishing his work and sending me on my way with a wave.

I can’t wait to finally be finished with this city. I feel trapped here, as its residents seem trapped themselves, in bad deals or bad luck. For once, I’ll be so happy to be on the road again and leaving civilization behind.

 

[Neriad13]

24th Sun’s Dusk, Ebonheart, The Six Fishes

It’s as though a nix-hound is continually sitting on my chest. The feeling is really quite amazing, like I’m being artfully crushed between two stone slabs that stay in place even as I’m moving about. But the hound seems to be departing for longer and longer periods now. I think he’s about done with me.

For, you see, yesterday I died.

I spent hours running about the Puzzle Canal, swimming through icy water, dashing down murky corridors, grappling with diseased rodents, being turned around and around and around. And then I found it – the tight, slime-filled tunnel that led to the center of the maze. Shivering, I held my breath and dove down it.

The center of the puzzle was grand, dark and dank. I crawled from the water’s edge to the platform in the center of the room, stumbling up the steps, my teeth chattering. There was a plaque on the border of the platform. Faltering over to it, I read the words “Breathe the Waters of His Glory and the Way is Made Clear.”

I half-fell, half-sat on the cold stone and rubbed my pounding head. There was nowhere else to go – no doors or passageways to guide me to deeper rooms. Only the serene, frigid water with my own face reflected right back at me in it. I tried jogging in a circle to see if it couldn’t warm me up a little bit. And I pondered what to do.

The message was cryptic but clear. I knew what I had to do, deep inside me, but I didn’t want to do it. I didn’t know if I could trust it, if my weak faith could carry me through.

It may have been the chill of the water, the silence of the canal, the passing of the hours, but in time I felt a sort of peacefulness come over me. It was the peace of the condemned criminal who knows that nothing he can do will save his life. I slipped back into the water, one step at a time, until the canal was at my throat. Squeezing my eyes shut, I dove under.

I heard voices in my head as my life drained away, of friends and enemies, lovers and beasts. I heard singing and crying as I let loose my last breath of air and let go. Darkness, deeper than the night sky, blacker than a thief’s heart took me then, until I heard a great rumbling from deep inside the ground.

When I opened my eyes, I was clinging to the stone steps as though my life depended on it, my bloody fingernails nearly torn out with scratching long gashes into the stone. Shaking, I dragged myself the rest of the way out and noted the newly-formed bridge above me with a start.

The shrine was at the other end of it, with the dremora standing guard beside it. Coughing, I stumbled over to him, shakily drew the silver longsword from my pack, knelt before him and offered it to him. He took it with a smirk, reciting his lines of courtesy dispassionately and pointing me towards the shrine. I prayed harder than I’d ever prayed before, in thankfulness, in amazement that I was still alive and had made it to the other end. The dremora rolled his eyes and said that it was all a bit overdramatic.

Shaking my head and slowly backing away, I leapt back into the water to swim myself home. As the canal washed me back outside, I found that I could breathe water as I had when I drowned. I swam out into the harbor, keeping below the surface of the water and looking up in wonder at the sunlight glinting down on me from above. Seeing a few ships floating in the tide ahead, I swam ahead to see what they might be.

To my great shock, I discovered that I’d swum straight through to Ebonheart. At that moment, thunder boomed ahead and rain began pouring from the sky, drenching me further than I knew was possible. I was shivering uncontrollably by the time I managed to pull myself out of the water and drag myself into town. I coughed up quite a bit of water on the pavement and slammed my soggy money down in a puddle on the counter of the nearest inn.

I’ve been recovering ever since. And yet, despite everything that happened, the pain and struggle that I’ve gone through, the endless taste of canal and seawater in my mouth, I can’t believe how glad I am to have done it all and learned what there was to learn.

 

[Neriad13]

26th Sun’s Dusk, Ald’ruhn

I walked all the way from Ebonheart to Ald’ruhn yesterday. Not a bad day’s trip, if I do say so myself. Though I did get an extremely early start and stopped for precious little except a few bites of meat, a little weapon repair and the sale of a few unneeded items to fill my massively depleted pockets. The speed also wasn’t entirely my doing either – I just wanted to get out of the rain as quickly as I could. The only way I could keep warm was to keep moving. Thunder boomed and lightening flashed all the way to the outskirts of Ald’ruhn, startling me into near deafness at times.

I was soaked to the bone and crabbier than mudcrab. Along the way, I met a traveling trader who was in need of an escort and while the money did sound good, we just weren’t heading in the same direction. I’m ashamed to say that I snapped at her rather more rudely than was necessary before I went on my way. A little further along I met a luckier trader who merely asked me to deliver his goods to Ald’ruhn. He seemed a bit shifty and made me swear an oath to Zenithar, as though that would mean much to an initiate of the Temple, before handing over his goods. Or perhaps I’ve just always been bad at judging the motives of Argonians. At any rate, I agreed to carry his load of fine shirts with me, as I was thinking of spending the night in Ald’ruhn anyway. He thanked me with a friendly hiss and reminded me that oaths to Zenithar are not to be taken lightly, before he skittered off again.

And so I went on, through sheets of blinding rain, bumping into all sorts of hostile creatures under the darkening sky, by now thoroughly tired of marching through the pouring rain and ankle-deep flash-flooding of the desert. At the moment when I’d had far more than enough and was about to give in to senseless rage, the rain stopped. I stopped walking with it, shocked into stillness by the sudden cessation of precipitation.

That was when the dust storm started. I arrived in Ald’ruhn soaked down to every fiber of my being, utterly caked in mud, with a good pound of dust clogged in my throat and far crabbier than I’d ever been before. I was wise enough to keep my mouth shut this time, merely paying for my room, shedding my wet clothes and falling into bed without offending anyone (besides the cleaning lady, that is).

And I haven’t even gotten to the highwayman yet. It seems so long ago that I met him in the very early morning outside Vivec, just barely after I’d woken up and dragged myself up the road north. He sprang out of a bush and I just stood there, staring dumbly, too tired to be scared.

Grinning a toothy grin, he grabbed my hand and gently lifted it to his lips, praising my beauty all the way. He told me that he wouldn’t rob someone so lovely as me and that the only thing he wished to steal was a kiss from so fair a maiden. Several thoughts crossed my weary mind at that moment.

1. I am no maid.
2. I’ve been wearing rags for days and he can’t possibly think me beautiful.
3. No one who hangs out in bushes at three in the morning ever means well.

I took my hand back and slapped him with it before turning my back and walking on. That seemed to excite him more than anything and he yelled after me that if I ever needed his gentlemanly presence, he’d be in Pelagiad. I turned around for a moment to spit in his general direction.

It sounds silly and I’m glad that I got away from the encounter without any injury, but I can’t stop thinking about him. He’s a fool and a lecher, but his boldness is something to be talked about.

But today I’m leaving him far behind. I’ve made my delivery and received my payment with no trouble at all. When the shops open in a minute, I’ll pawn these hides, get another scratch buffed out of my sword and be on my way to Gnisis.

 

[BIGwooly]

I wish I had more time to read all of these. Your writing is excellent.

 

[Neriad13]

I wish I had more time to read all of these. Your writing is excellent.

*fangirl squee*

Ahem, I'm calm now.