Morrowind Live
By Faronon Star Wolf
Author's notes: Well, I'm back. Given that this was beginning to be a monster of a chapter, I cut it off a few paragraphs from the end of what I had, at the only reasonable stopping point I could find. And... yeah. This chapter sucks. I'm only posting it because I don't feel like rewriting it.
Yes, yes I am lazy. How'd you guess?
In any case, I guess there'll be another chapter out soon. Maybe.
"Well," I said, breaking the silence that had fell between Srath and I, "Obviously at some point we're going to need to go to Balmora…"
"And you'd rather have someone to travel with," he continued, knowing what I was going to ask before I said it.
"Precisely," I replied, shrugging uncomfortably. "Oh—but first I need to stalk Far-from-being-gothic to find his hiding place."
"Isn't it in that stump?" Srath inquired, one eyebrow raised as he gestured to it the pool of stagnant water.
"It's… all gross and stuff…" I replied, shrugging and blushing. "I'd prefer to stay clean if it's at all possible."
"You," he said, staring at me incredulously, "are odd."
"You're just now figuring that out?" I asked jokingly.
After that, the conversation sort of died, and instead we spent close to two hours playing word games. An imperial guard stared at us with disapproval when she arrived to light the lighthouse, and, sharing a mischievous look, we both waved and addressed her like an old friend.
"Oh," I exclaimed, "it's been years!"
Srath continued, "You look wonderful! How have you been?"
The guard gave us a look like we were maniacs, and we could barely contain our laughter until the door closed behind her.
I flopped backwards on the wooden platform, staring up at the clouds. They were a dark grey, tinged with the barest amount of red, the beginning of the sunset. My fingers tapped absently on the ground, and soon I was humming.
"Do you have ADD or something?" the Galith character asked, looking across Seyda Neen. I cheerfully informed him of my ADHD, and continued tapping out random rhythms. Gradually the music in my head turned to 'World of Make Believe'.
"On golden wings she flies at night," I began singing quietly, growing more confident as I went on. Srath listened silently as I continued. I knew the song by heart, having listened to my Within Temptation CD for weeks on end.
"…in a big oak there is a door, which will lead her to the wizard's shore; and she'll ask him for the wind to sail her home, to the world where she belongs—"
"Wait," Srath interrupted, and my eyes flew open in surprise. "That part—what if it's true?"
"What—oh." I thought about it. "Well… The Telvanni wizards might know something about it, but to get back to real life, it might be required to finish the main quest." I bit my lip. I am going to hate doing this without god mode… "Uh… did you read the read-me that came with it?" I smile sheepishly when he gave me a nonplused look.
"And I thought women were supposed to be the ones who read the directions?" he replied. "No, I didn't."
"Well, I was bored!" I protested.
He nodded, completely ignoring it. "Uh huh."
"Oh, shut up," I grumbled.
Our somewhat of an argument was interrupted by a Fargoth sighting.
"Hey, there he is," Srath said, slight interest and disgust inflecting his voice. I sat up hurriedly, and took a second to find him.
"Is that supposed to be a disguise or something?" I asked, slightly disturbed.
Fargoth wore far too much makeup, and a skirt. The obviously false breasts moved far too much to be real, and I had to resist the urge to go down there and throw him into the water.
"I have nothing to say against cross dressers, but that is… sick."
"I know," Srath replied, his eyes bugging out as Fargoth tried sneaking around in his outlandish "disguise".
One guard, our "friend" from earlier, glanced at him, took a better look, and then turned away, shaking her head. Fargoth grinned widely at his supposed success, and continued sidling towards the pond of stagnant water.
"Oh, please, don't…" I moaned, but sighed in relief when he bypassed it and stuck his arm in a hold on a tree near it. He tried withdrawing his arm, but it had gotten stuck in the small hole. Srath stared, fighting a small smirk, but I broke down into laughter, helpless to stop as Fargoth struggled to extract his arm from the tree.
Finally, he pulled his arm out with brute strength, leaving several deep furrows in the flesh of his arm.
Srath winced, and spoke as I tried to get myself under control and stop laughing. "That must hurt," he said, a bit sympathetically, watching as Fargoth shook his arm, sending sprays of blood everywhere.
He scurried away, not looking back, merely cradling his injured arm as he watched the ground intently.
I pushed myself up onto my elbows, and then up into a sitting position before the quick movement caused my head to spin.
"Ugh," I moaned, "guess I'm not all better yet…"
"Hey, are you okay?"
"Yeah," I said vaguely, gesturing slightly. "I think it's just the end result of that suicidal book…" Srath stood and offered me a hand, and I took it, ending up being pulled quickly to my feet. Once there, I wavered for a few seconds before my balance returned, and I led the way down the stairs, and then to the tree.
Fargoth wasn't as tall as I was (finally, a short person!), so I was able to peer into the hole and take stock of what was in there.
"Oh, for the love of crap," I snorted, pulling the Engraved Healing Ring from the hole. "He threw such a fit about his ring being missing, and then he leaves it in a tree?"
"Well," Srath replied, "he probably thought that it wouldn't be found."
I shrugged and pocketed it, looking back into the hole. With a broad grin, my hand shot into it again and dragged out a clinking bag.
"Ten drakes it's money," I said to the amused Galeth.
"Why should I waste money on a sure bet?" he replied, starting to walk arounf the cluster of trees and bushes on the hill, but I cut through it and beat him to the door of Arreil's trade house. Sticking out my tongue, I preseded him into the building, climbing the stairs in search of tall-boy—er, Hrisskar.
"Ah, if it isn't the lass from earlier!" the Nord roared, a drunken smile on his face. "And what did ye come here for?" Hrisskar slurred out.
"…he's drunk," Srath observed.
"Yes, so he is," I snapped out, irritated. He's so drunk I bet I could take his money from right in front of him and he wouldn't notice. Speaking to the drunk Nord, I snarled before turning and stalking off. "Never mind."
I was outside before I lost my control on my temper. "Stupid, bloody, tall son of a bitch!" Srath took a step back, and I whirled to glare at him. "What?!"
"You… are frightening when you're mad."
"Oh, bug off." I stalked to the side of the platform, and jumped down five feet to land crouched on the soft ground. I cut across the water, wet feet be damned, and continued towards the south path out of Seyda Neen, stuffing the pouch of money into my pocket as I went.
Srath caught up with me as I passed the siltstrider platform, and silently fell into pace with me, not remarking on anything.
We walked for a while before I noticed a tree with shelf fungus growing from it, and I walked over, breaking all of it I could reach, and wrapping it up in soft cloths I found in my bag.
"Are you feeling better?" Srath finally asked, and I shrugged in response.
"I suppose," I replied, not feeling very sociable.
And so we continued silently, me contemplating the ground and picking mushrooms whenever we came across them, and Srath with his long sword out and ready.
I had just broken the stem of a violet coprinus when I heard a sudden, furious screaming. Startled, I stood and turned to face Srath, who was looking at a kwama forager dubiously. It was the source of the noise, and then suddenly it rushed forward, and Srath, startled, got hit in the ankle. The forager hit him with considerable force for its size, and the Galeth fell to the ground.
I dropped the fungus and shrugged my bow off my shoulder, reaching back for one of my few arrows as I did so. Biting my lip, I hoped that Lilindra had more practice shooting bows then I did. Sure enough, as I placed the end to the string, something seemed to take over my movement to draw it smoothly back and sight along the arrow. Waiting until the kwama forager was far enough away from Srath that I didn't need to worry about hitting him (unless, of course, it went totally off target) then released.
The arrow hit the kwama forager in its side, and it squealed louder then it had before. It turned to face me, and started charging, but as it passed Srath, the flat side of his sword blade came down on its neck. The forager slumped with an audible snap.
"Well," I said, lowering the bow and trying to calm my suddenly racing heart. "That was fun."
"Indeed," Srath replied, looking as disturbed as I felt, "it was."
I bent down to pick up the violet coprinus, only to find that it had been stepped on, and was now dusty. With a sigh, I straightened and frowned. "Well, let's get going…" Srath was kneeling beside the body of the kwama forager, and he suddenly pulled out a small knife and began to skin the thing. "What are you doing?" I asked, confused.
He looked up at me like I was being particularly dense. "I am skinning it."
"I can see that. Why?"
He shrugged. "We could sell it in Balmora."
"And if they don't buy untreated hides?"
Srath shrugged again. "Find out how to tan it, and then make a belt pouch, I suppose. Why are you being so bitchy?"
"I…" I stopped to think. "Sorry. I'm starting to get another head ache."
For the third time, he shrugged, and I screamed at him mentally to stop shrugging. "It's okay. At least you have a reason for it. Unlike most of the girls I go to school with."
Curious, I decided to pry. "Where do you go to school?"
He looke dup and fixed me with a sardonic stare. "And why do you want to know?"
"…making small talk?" I tried.
Srath laughed. "Nice try."
"Okay, okay." Turning, I looked at the tree beside me, which had several types of shelf fungus growing on it.
Pulling one off the tree, I broke a corner of it off and smelled it curiously. Shrugging at its sharp, minty smell, I popped it into my mouth and chewed for a while before swallowing it. Suddenly, I looked down at the rough surface of the large fungus and inhaled, smelling the minty scent again, and swallowed convulsively, a bitter after taste in my mouth.
"…Srath?" I asked tentatively, biting my lip. He looked up from the corpse of the kwama forager, a bit annoyed. "Are you almost finished?"
"Yes," he grunted, looking back down at the bloody mess in his hands.
"Good, because as soon as you are, we need to head to Peligiad as fast as we can." At his startled look, I smiled apologetically, starting to feel somewhat nauseous. "I just ate a piece of bungler's bane."
"Oh, for god's sake…" he stood quickly, dropping the half skinned corpse at his feet and moving to my side. I held up a hand, warning him to stay away, before bending over and vomiting.
After that, it became rather vague. The world took turns burning and freezing, and I threw up more times then I want to remember. My head spun and ached at the same time, and for a few moments there I was sure I could taste the sunlight, and hear the color of Srath's hair.
Needless to say, I was delirious.
After a while it all went black, and I woke up in a bed under an unfamiliar ceiling. With a groan, I rolled over in bed, only to land with an undignified thump on the floor after the mattress ran out.
I lay there for a few minutes, blinking at the ceiling in confusion, and then pushed myself to my feet, looking around as I did so. There were a few chests and a chair, but I ignored them in favor of the door. As I approached it, it swung open, and I felt like I had been hit by a two by four in the head when I recognized Nels Llendo.
"Get back in bed," he scolded – scolded? – as he gestured at me. Surprised, I allowed him to push me back into the bed, but then my head started spinning.
"Where am I?" I asked when my head stopped the infernal spinning.
"Peligiad," he replied easily. "It's the night after you ignored the information that you begged I tell you about the mushrooms, and your friend is asleep next door."
I paused to think about that, then shrugged. "I think I'm going to puke," I said, my voice sounding odd. "And if I puke, I'm going to puke on you."
Nels pulled back, startled, then walked to the opposite side of the room and grabbed a basin. "If you're going to vomit, I would prefer you did it in here," he said dryly, placing it on my lap. "It would take a lot more work then I would prefer to wash the smell of vomit out of fabric."
I glared at him as he walked to the chair and lowered himself with a sigh into it. With out opening his eyes, he spoke.
"Stop glaring at me and go back to sleep, would you? You've still got poison in your body."
"Why don't you go back to your own room?" I asked, trying to keep from puking until he was back in range.
Nels Llendo opened one eyes and looked at me flatly. "This is my room."
"Oh." I couldn't think of anything to say beyond that, so I lifted the surprisingly heavy basin and set it on the floor before rolling onto my side with my back facing the Dunmer outlaw. Suddenly, I was drowsier then I had thought I was, and I fell into a dreamless sleep.
Someone was shaking me awake, and I was less than ecstatic about that.
"If you don't remove that hand," I began in a reasonable tone, "I'll remove it for you. At the elbow." Who ever had been touching me retreated at a very fast pace. "That's better."
"Um, F— er, Lilindra, I have your breakfast," Srath said nervously. I sat up quickly, mouth watering.
Food!
He handed me the tray and I tore into the food at a rate that would have done Lina Inverse proud. Soon I was toying with the empty plate, and looked up to face Srath, who was looking at me with a disbelieving and slightly nauseous expression on his face. "What?"
"No… nothing," he said, shaking his head, but I could tell that he was trying not to laugh. "Nels Llendo has been very helpful," he started, licking his lips at the mention of the Dunmer.
I nodded thoughtfully, too tired to mind the change of subject. "How did you run into him, by the way?" I asked, curious.
"Oh," he said, with a slight laugh. "I was walking down the path, carrying you – and by the way, you're lighter then I expected. He stepped out, ready to demand money, but stopped when he recognized you. Next thing I knew, he was rushing us towards Peligiad." There was something in his face that made me think he admired the outlaw, and more.
It almost made me feel sick.
I frowned. It wasn't the thought of Srath and Nels Llendo together that made me feel sick. Sitting upright quickly, I looked around for the basin. "Where'd it go?" I asked, frantic, speaking through the fingers of the hand against my mouth.
"Where'd what go?" Srath asked, puzzled.
"The basin!" I cried, feeling more nauseous by the second. Srath jumped, then rushed forward, reaching under the bed. He had just pulled it out when, unable to hold it back any longer, I snatched it out of his hands, puking into it. Srath jumped back as it splattered slightly, but, having emptied my stomach of my breakfast, I leaned back, moaning.
The door opened, and Nels Llendo walked in, blinking when he saw Srath with the full basin. He stepped out of the way, allowing the Galeth to leave the room, then stepped towards the bed.
"Still not feeling well, milady?" he asked mildly, and I glared up at him tiredly.
"I think I could manage to work up a bit more, if you truly feel like being puked on." I threatened, my voice hoarse and tired. He laughed, startled, then stopped to look thoughtfully at me when he realized that I was serious. Finally he nodded, and took a seat in the chair again.
"The bruise on your forehead is healing," he offered, and I kept glaring at him for a few minutes before grudgingly nodding at him. I closed my eyes and forced my muscles to relax, but Nels speaking up again startled me. "How did you and that boy meet up?" His tone of voice carefully expressionless.
Cracking one eye open to peer at him, I shrugged. "We have several things in common," I said.
"Like being released from prison?" I laughed and nodded at his guess, closing my eyes again.
"That, and the gender we're attracted to," I said bluntly, opening my eyes to look at him. The blush on the Dunmer's face was quite the sight.
"You mean you're—" he started in a choked voice, but he stopped when I frowned.
"No, I mean he is."
"Oh. Well. That would… ah, explain some things…" he mumbled, his face still flushed. Srath walked in the door at that moment, carrying a clean basin, and looked between us with suspicion on his face. I tried to wipe the self satisfied grin and slight annoyance off my face, but he still looked at me, no doubt wondering what the hell I was planning. Or had done.
For his part, Nels had averted his eyes from Srath, looking intently at the wall. I peered to see what he found so interesting, but the angle was wrong and I couldn't see what he was looking at. With a disappointed sigh, I slumped back onto the bed, looking up at the ceiling.
Srath looked between him and me again, and finally just set the basin on the floor. "I don't know what's going on, and I'm not sure I want to know. I'll be at the bar."
Bar? ALCY-HAL! My expression brightened and I looked pleadingly up at Srath. "Could you—"
"No," Srath and Nels said at the same time.
"But—"
"No," the Dunmer said firmly, looking at me sternly. "You're still weak from eating bungler's bane."
"But—" At the glares I got from both of the males in the room, I subsided, waiting until Srath had turned to exit the room before sticking my tongue out. Nels Llendo stared disbelieving, and shook his head when I asked what he was staring at.
"Nothing," he replied, and didn't say any more, even when I started throwing torn off and crumpled bits of paper at him. Dropping back onto the pillows with a flump and an annoyed 'hmph!', I stared at the ceiling in annoyance. The scowl on my face grew deeper when I heard Nels laughing.
"What's so funny?" I snarled.
"You," he said, and from the sound of his voice, he was holding back more laughter through will alone, "are ridiculous."
I snorted and rolled onto my side, facing the plaster covered wall. The color, I decided after fifteen minutes of acute examination, was more of a yellow color then cream.
By then, Nels Llendo had stewed in guilt long enough to stamp down his pride enough to mutter out an apology, then beat a hasty retreat, no doubt to the bar, where he would drink the alcohol I wanted, and—
Hmm. Perhaps I could sneak downstairs.
With a laugh best described as insane, I kicked the blankets off my legs and stood shakily, putting one hand on the wall to steady myself. I took that chance to examine the clothing I wore, as it wasn't the clothing that I had been wearing when I woke on the prison ship.
Instead, it was a dark robe, made of almost black fabric, with dark blue sleeves. With one eyebrow raised, I realized that I could feel the somewhat-soft fabric of the robe against my skin. My thoughts bordered murderous as I though about which of the two who had been taking care of me could have undressed me.
With eyes full of righteous fury (and an Amelia pose), I strode to the door.
Which was locked.
My righteous fury deflated like a balloon poked with a pin, and I slumped against the door, sliding slowly to the floor. With a defeated sigh, I picked myself up and walked back to the bed, slipping back under the covers. My eyes drooped (hey, holding a righteous fury is hard work!), and I considered the benefits of taking a nap.
My body, however, took initiative, and refused to listen to my mind's protests as I slipped into sleep.
"I," the whine could have only come from my throat, "am spending far too much time asleep." I was, of course, complaining to a disinterested Stath. He stood, leaning against the wall, staring at the wall. When he had taken up the position, I tried to find out what his attention on, but he must have X-Ray vision or something, because I couldn't see anything worthy of that intent a stare.
"I'm going to tie you up and leave you for horny Daedra," I threatened him, as Nels Llendo entered the room. "What are you looking at?" I snapped, my temper much the worse for wear.
"Nothing," he replied casually.
"When can I leave?" I asked, putting the slightest edge of a whine into my voice. Nels merely raised an eyebrow, immune to it. Damn the man.
"Tomorrow," Srath said, looking irritated. I surely had more reason to be irritated then he did, so I ignored it.
"Why not now?" I made sure to elongate the o, dragging the single syllable into several.
With a feeling of success, I watched as Nels flinched. The Dunmer wasn't as immune as I had thought he was!
He glanced over at Srath with a raised eyebrow, who shrugged and gestured. "Perhaps we could see about taking you down to the bar, if you don't order anything to drink. If you do, you'll have to pay for it, but we'll donate it to the local drunkard."
"But—" I protested, but Srath cut me off without even a look of guilt on his face.
"One of us is going to be with you at all times, you realize," he said smoothly, not showing any sign that he had interrupted me in his voice.
"But—" This time it was Nels Llendo's turn to interrupt me.
"I wouldn't even consider it, but there's a bard downstairs, and Srath mentioned that you like music." I looked between the two, but there was no sign of weakness, so I slumped and agreed to their terms, before throwing the blankets off of my legs. Suddenly, Nels bent forward and lifted me effortlessly, carrying me out the door that Srath opened for him. Surprised, I kept silent, but when I opened my mouth to start protesting, and loudly, the Dunmer hissed at me. "Do you want to draw attention to your position?"
I snapped my mouth shut when I realized he was right, but sent him a dirty glare regardless. Luckily, when we came downstairs, everyone in the bar was listening to the bard, watching the man with various degrees of interest. The only one who witnessed us coming down the stairs was the brown-haird Breton woman behind the bar, who smiled broadly at the sight.
Nels set me down carefully on a chair at a table near the stairs, and as he took a seat, I glared at him and growled that I could have walked downstairs myself.
He gave me a look that said he clearly disbelieved that, but before he could speak the bartender came over, a large smile on her face.
"So you're the one that dear Nels brought in!" she said, smiling brightly. "It's so good to see you up, people who are poisoned with bungler's bane don't always survive."
I tried to ignore the Dunmer's eyes as they bored into me, almost proclaiming 'I told you so!' at the Breton's words. "I—thank you," I said, both to the woman and the man who sat across the table, feeling as if the words were not quite worth the aid they had given me.
Srath walked up and took the third chair at the table, sitting to my left, and against the wall. He smiled up at the woman and asked for two mugs of cider. Nels also spoke up, asking for cider. The owoman smiled and nodded, walking abck to the bark where she poured out the three measures of cider. After leaving them on our table, she didn't seem very inclined to stay and speak more, and returned to her position behind the wooden bar.
Turning my attention to the music, I took a sip of the cider, looking down at the mug in surprise at its taste. It tasted like apples and oranges mixed together, with just the barest hint of cinnamon. Savoring the flavor, I started listening to the intricate intertwining melody of the song the bard was playing. I was humming along with it before I recognized the music.
Wiccan Dance, I thought, stiffening in my seat. Nels had picked up his mug of cider and gone to the bar, so Srath was the only one to notice my surprise.
"So, you know it, too," he said, his voice low.
"Loreena McKennitt," I replied, just as quietly. At his nod, I continued. "Any other songs you recognized?"
"The Bonny Swans," he replied, and I mentally cheered. "But those are the only two songs of hers that I really know," Srath said with a shrug.
"Me too," I replied, then bit my lip. "Is this the only reason that you brought me down here? Just to see if I recognized the music being played?"
"Of course not," he replied, a bit scornfully. "I knew you liked music, so I thought it might make you more willing to accept another day of bed rest."
I couldn't fault his logic, so I finally just stuck my tongue out at him and left it at that.
Nels Llendo returned, raising his eyebrow at my immaturity, but he didn't comment on it. I had to admit, having an outlaw, in a profession where questions could get you killed, the relief from being asked questions all the time was immeasurable. Of course, in return he was too observant.
"Why were you arguing about the music?" he asked without beating around the bush, and I looked at Srath before laughing.
"Oh, Srath was wondering if I recognized the music. I was wondering if that was the only reason I was down here." I shrugged and then put my head down on my crossed arms. My temple rested against one wrist, and I absently rubbed my chin against the smooth wood of the table. Enough hands had passed over its surface that the wood had been worn smooth. Briefly I wondered how the process worked, but I put the thought out of my mind as I listened more to the music.
The strains of song slowly faded away, and I sighed regretfully, knowing the bard was probably going to take a break, and then turned my attention when Srath spoke.
"Are you going to drink that cider, Lilindra?" he asked, not stumbling on my character's name. Without opening my eyes, I reached forward and snagged my half-full mug from the Galeth character's loose grip, and took a drink. Afterwards, I opened my eyes and deliberately spat into the mug.
"Still want it?" I offered, holding it out to him.
"Ah, no thank…" he replied, squeamishly. I laughed as he made his way to the bar to get himself more cider. I looked up, startled, when someone else's laugh joined mine. The bard sat in the seat to my left, smiling freely.
"I saw what you did from across the room," he said, still chuckling a bit. "That was well handled." I smiled hesitantly, then looked at Nels in hope of support. The Dunmer smiled and retreated, leaving me alone at the table with the wood elf bard.
His black hair was in a ponytail, with small braids trailing its length, feathers dangling down his back. Lines of blue paint crossed his face in no pattern I could see, but he gave my forehead a second, harder look after he glanced over it the first time.
"I've never seen that design before…" he muttered, looking at it intently.
I, of course, demonstrated my excellent grasp of the situation.
"Huh?"