Saarie,
I found Elenwen. She has proven uncooperative so far, but she has neither confirmed nor denied any involvement in the attack on the Embassy; neither has she confirmed nor denied any direct involvement with En'zhar since then.
Rest assured, however, that I will force it from her before long.
She is oddly tight-lipped about Runael, as well, who was supposed to have been in Winterhold on leave. I am having my suspicions about that matter, as well, and will notify you if I learn anything.
-Vindicator Thellias
"Why aren't we heading to Solstheim now?" Adalla asked impatiently, as she allowed Mia to tend to the gash in her side.
"'Cause I ain't ready fer such a trip yet," Mia grumbled. "'Sides, I don't wanna confront the fact that I am what I am, 'member?"
The high elf fell silent at these words, though not because she was dropping the matter.
It had been three days since they'd been attacked by the cultists. While both women were miffed that they'd been attacked, it had been Adalla who had been pushing for revenge the hardest.
"What will you need to do to be ready for such a trip, then?" Adalla winced as the potion Mia was now applying to the gash stung noticeably; her jaw was set to keep from groaning out.
"Lemme rephrase that..." Mia dabbed a clean cloth at the gash. "I ain't goin'. We killed them bastards what attacked us. Fer me, that's enough. Damn whoever sent 'em."
Adalla shook her head. "This... this isn't-"
"Isn't me? Ya don't know the first thing 'bout me, then," Mia growled. "If I spent time chasin' bastards down what order my death and send flunkies t'do it fer 'em... well, I prolly never woulda met ya, 'cause I'd've been busy with one thing or the other." She picked up a damp cloth and began to clean the gash. "Listen t'me, Adalla. It takes courage t'confront someone what orders ya t'die. It takes greater courage still t'write 'em off as 'not worth the time', and believe that they ain't no threat."
"You're not even a little worried about this 'Miraak', then?" Adalla asked rather bitterly. "I'm not Dragonborn, and I suffered this gash just because of who I was in the company of. You really think whoever Miraak is, he or she has thoughts of sparing the innocent?"
Mia didn't respond, and continued to work silently. The damp cloth was removed, another potion applied - presumably for good measure, as this one didn't sting the Altmer - and a bandage wrapped around her stomach.
"You're really just going to... to let this go."
"Aye." Mia sounded troubled as she uttered the sound.
"Why?"
"...I heard stories 'bout him," Mia confessed after a moment's silence. "'Bout this Miraak. None of 'em good. He were a Dragon Priest, but he betrayed the dragons all fer the sake of personal power. From what I understand, he weren't taken down by them Dragon Cult bastards... hell, I ain't even sure he were taken down... I ain't never paid that much attention t'the tale afore now... but me point is, he's supposed t'be powerful. Dangerous, even." She heaved a sigh. "...I ain't got that much confidence in meself, Adalla. There's a lot I'm willin' t'face, but the storied 'First Dragonborn' ain't one of 'em."
Adalla bit her lower lip. "Right... sorry, I've been... pushing it so hard." She glanced down as Mia pulled the bandage taut, then fastened it in place. "I never gave a thought to how you'd feel about..."
"No hard feelin's." Mia gave the bandaged gash a light pat, and she looked Adalla in the eyes. "Just... just like with this 'Dragonborn' stuff, let it go, 'kay? If, for whatever reason, I change me mind, ya will be the first t'know." She began to pick up the very, very small mess she had made with used cloths, bandages and empty potion bottles.
"...So assuming you do, what would you need to do to prepare for such a journey?" Adalla asked again.
"Well, Solstheim's s'posed t'be cold," Mia began. "I ain't gonna freeze my ass off moments after arrivin' just 'cause I weren't prepared fer the cold. So that would take priority. I'd prolly visit me home in Riften and gather-"
"Wait... you have a home?" Adalla interrupted.
"Aye. What of it?" Mia didn't seem all that concerned with the topic.
"But... you live in the wilds of Skyrim!"
"Aye. Better the wilds of Skyrim than a city filled with vice, avarice and thieves. There ain't a lot of places one can hide in Riften, but all of Skyrim? Ya'd be surprised."
The high elf shook her head as she began to pull her elven armor on once more. "I'll concede that point, but... even so..."
"Anyway, I'd visit me home in Riften and gather up what supplies I keep there in case of 'mergencies. After that, I'd make sure me armor and weapons were in top condition; wouldn't surprise me none if Solstheim itself were a dangerous land, Miraak's cultists or not. Ain't got plans t'die so easily t'the native fauna." She finished cleaning up the slight mess she'd made. "Also gotta make sure I got funds t'get there and back. I'm sure a trip aboard that Northern Maiden, what were mentioned in that note, ain't gonna be free."
Adalla gave a thoughtful nod to these points. "So... why is it I've never heard until now that you own a home?"
"It ain't never been a big deal t'me. I were given the home by the Jarl on account of bustin' up a skooma ring in the city. I told her I'd be fine with payin' fer it, but she said it weren't necessary, that she owed me a debt, and that the home was her way of payin' it, blah blah blah. Turns out the home'd been recently abandoned afore I came t'own it."
"By who?"
Mia's lips curled into a grimace. "That Dragonborn git. Might be another reason I ain't one fer stayin' there. Anything what reminds me of the git, and what I am, I tend not t'care 'bout. Anyway, he apparently gave it up t'the Jarl, sayin' he didn't need it anymore, that he had other places t'live, yadda yadda yadda. Excuse after excuse t'be rid of the home, I guess."
Adalla wasn't all that surprised to hear Mia's reaction to the other Dragonborn. She'd heard it before now, after all.
"Anyway, this is all theore... hypothe... this is all in theory," Mia finished quickly.
"The words you were looking for were 'theoretical' and 'hypothetical'," Adalla said with a small smile. "But I know. I won't push the matter any longer."
"Thank ya." Mia smiled - and Adalla noticed that, after the discussion they'd had about Solstheim, Miraak, and the potential of travelling there, the smile didn't quite reach the woman's eyes. Not this time.
Runael and Irileth were outside White River Watch, looking at Whiterun from afar.
"You're sure there's no other way into the city?" Runael asked, looking at an elaborate map of Whiterun Irileth had drawn up.
"Quite sure." Even despite these words, Irileth continued to peruse the map, as if searching for something she might have overlooked. "Then again, I never made a point of exploring every single nook and cranny of the city, either."
The Arch-Mage of Winterhold looked up at Dragonsreach. "...I'm trying to remember... I stayed in Whiterun for a time, months ago... it seemed as though I'd spotted something that made me wonder..."
Irileth glanced at Runael.
"On the... I want to say southern wall, on the exterior, there's some sort of... I don't know, a drop off? It looks manmade, at any rate... I've tried getting up myself, but I can't. I have no idea where it leads, but... maybe that goes somewhere...?"
Irileth thought for a moment, glancing at the map again. "Can't say I've heard of it before now..."
"It's worth looking into, I'd say." The high elf crossed her arms and cast a look at the map once more. "It's near the Battle-Born Farm, if I remember right..."
"...I feel like a thief," Irileth finally grumbled. "I'm not used to trying to plot a means of sneaking into a city, so as to be undetected by the guards..."
"Considering the guards are Thalmor, I'd say it's reasonable," Runael countered.
"It may be in this context, but it doesn't make it feel any less honorable," came the dark elf's retort.
"We could always stroll through the front gate, if honor means that much to you," Runael said with a noticeably sarcastic tone. "I'm sure they'd love to see us both."
The housecarl glared at Runael. "Watch your tone," she growled. "You may be Arch-Mage, and I may be your reluctant apprentice-"
"Didn't seem too reluctant," Runael murmured.
"-but don't think for a moment I'll tolerate that sort of reaction," the dark elf continued, as if the Altmer hadn't interrupted. "In Whiterun, it's another matter altogether. I'm the Housecarl of Jarl Balgruuf-"
"Former Jarl," the Arch-Mage interrupted. "Which makes you... what, nowadays?"
Irileth's hands clenched into tight fists. "I dare you to continue that thought."
"And I dare you to take a swing at me," Runael responded coolly. "I can assure you... if your fist so much as grazes me this time around, you will be alone. I will return to the College, you will be barred entry, and both you and Balgruuf will be denied that 'favor' we supposedly owe you two. If asserting your false sense of 'dominance' means that much to you, though, then go ahead; swing away."
For several minutes, Irileth stood as a statue, glaring at Runael all the while. When she did move, it was to relax her fists and spin on her heel, so she no longer had to face the Altmer.
"So we'll investigate this 'drop off', see where it leads?" Runael's tone sounded as if they hadn't just had a very tense exchange.
"Fine." Irileth's tone was far less amiable, and it sounded as if she was fed up with the Arch-Mage of Winterhold.
He had to admit, most of the forts of Skyrim were conveniently located along the road back to the Embassy.
It made keeping Thellias' prisoner such, especially when the fort had a prison to keep her in.
That wasn't to say they were all vacated, however. More than once now, he'd drawn his blade against many of the bandits inhabiting most of the forts - and in a couple rare cases, he'd even cut down Stormcloaks. He felt remorse or pity for neither bandit nor Stormcloak, however; in the end, they were but men, and beneath him anyway.
He paid no real mind to the names of these forts; he didn't see a need. As long as they had beds for him to sleep in, and a prison to stuff Elenwen in... that was all that really mattered to him. He could ignore Elenwen altogether that way.
And yet, he couldn't even do that. He had to bring her back to the Embassy alive for questioning... which meant feeding her. All he'd offered her thus far was bread that was starting to turn stale and a waterskin, but it was still sustenance.
He watched as she ate her latest meal, and noticed she was eating slower this time. "You're not hungry?" he snapped. "That's all I'm interpreting from-"
She shook her head. "I'm just trying to figure out why..." She shuddered slightly. "Why are you doing this...?"
"I could ask why you plotted with En'zhar," he countered. "Or why you did business with him in the first place."
She didn't answer him.
"I could also ask why you refuse to say a word about Runael." Mentioning the sister of his former apprentice softened his expression somewhat, but it remained a stern look nonetheless. "I've heard the rumors, disgusting though they may be. One would think you'd be willing to talk about her."
Again, no answer.
"Unlike you, however, I will answer. I'm 'doing this' because it's the right thing to do. I, unlike you, have a sense of loyalty to the Dominion - a desire to bring honor to our nation, and justice to those who would see it harmed in one way or another."
She remained silent, though he noticed that her hands were starting to tremble.
"I'm doing this because I have my orders, and will carry them out to the letter - unlike you. You, who see fit to conspire with a known criminal in Alinor. You, who insist on hiding said criminal's whereabouts-"
"The Reach," she whispered.
His eyes narrowed. "Excuse me?"
"En'zhar. He... there's a camp in the Reach. I-I'm not sure precisely where it's located... I was out cold when I woke there, and I fell asleep shortly after we left for..." Her voice trailed.
"After you left for...?" He wasn't going to let this go, not after she'd let it slip.
"...Winterhold," she finally said, sounding resigned. "I... I wanted to see Runael in Winterhold."
"Hmph." He crossed his arms. "And it didn't concern you that your betrayal of the Dominion might not go over so well with Runael?"
"No, because she-" Elenwen's eyes widened a little, and she fell abruptly silent.
In contrast, the elder mer's eyes narrowed. "She what? Spit it out, Elenwen, or I will beat it out of you. Do not think I..." After a moment, though, his thoughts began to process the unlikely... something he refused to believe to be possible. "You... went to Winterhold to visit Runael... who, by all accounts, is still part of the Dominion."
She swallowed, looking quite horrified now.
"News of your defection would have spread rapidly if she had been contacted... unless she either wanted to keep it secret, which I know is not in her character... or she..." He was suddenly on his feet, hands squeezing the cell door. His eyes were practically ablaze with fury.
"She defected, didn't she? And you knew she defected, didn't you?!"
Elenwen's gaze went to the stone floor. He noticed her shoulders were trembling in a way that suggested she was starting to cry.
"When did she defect?" His tone was quiet, but there was no masking the rage within.
Silence.
He shook the cell door, making Elenwen jump. "I asked you a question, and you will answer me!" he shouted.
"A few months ago!" she cried out. "T-two months b-before... before you arrived... I-I'd hoped she could be persuaded to return... which is why I didn't send correspondence to Alinor..."
"That was not your call to make," he snarled. "Traitors to the Dominion are to be dealt with by those with the proper authority... not you."
"We were so far from Alinor, word wouldn't have reached-"
He reached through the door and tried to seize her neck. She shrank back just enough that he only grabbed her collar, and with a brief moment to affirm his grip on her collar, he pulled her roughly against the door.
"I. Don't. Care. You should have still sent word to Alinor, and let them decide her fate. You never had the authority, as First Ambassador, to decide her fate for yourself - especially not with your own personal involvement with her clouding your mind."
"Sh-she was my subordinate. It was well within my right to decide-" She was interrupted when he slammed her against the door again.
"You know better than me, do you? You know the justice system of the Dominion better than I, a Vindicator?" he said with a low growl. "The best you could have done was imprison her for treason, and carried out the decision from Alinor when it arrived." He shoved her away and let go, letting her fall to the stone floor without a care. "Instead, you took matters into your own hands... and you can see just how well that worked out for you."
She sobbed quietly. It was almost enough to make him feel pity for her.
Almost.
"...Vernanye knows, doesn't she?"
When Elenwen looked up, her tear-stained face was wrought with confusion. "Vernanye...?"
"You mean you don't know about them?" He laughed quietly. "I don't know why they want to keep it secret, but to each their own..." He leaned against the cell door. "Runael and Vernanye are sisters."
Elenwen looked shocked at the revelation.
His expression darkened gradually. "...It couldn't be. Vernanye couldn't possibly know Runael defected. She would have told me when I visited her in..." His voice trailed slowly. "...Or would she...? She always did tell me, even when she was my apprentice, that family was always the most important thing to her..." He was suddenly troubled, and felt a twinge of betrayal besides.
She once more turned her gaze to the stone floor.
He slammed a hand against the cell door, and turned away from Elenwen. "I refuse to believe it's possible, but it's not completely outside the realm of possibility... Vernanye would never deceive me so... never Vernanye..."
With these words, he stormed out of the prison, leaving Elenwen to her tears and her thoughts.
"I... that's a... tall order..." Vernanye said, eyes wide in shock.
The wizard named Falion gave a grim nod. "For one with morals, yes - and it's good to see you possess such. I do not lie about such matters, however... if you seek your cure, you must kill someone and trap their soul in a black soul gem. A fate crueler than death, to be certain..."
She shook her head. "Certainly nothing I'd wish upon anyone... not even my worst enemy."
Falion produced a black soul gem. "I can provide you with the gem for a price... but you must fill it yourself, I'm afraid."
She gnawed at her lower lip, eyes upon the black soul gem. Her gnawing revealed one of her fangs to Falion for but a brief moment, who didn't react to the sight.
"How much?" she finally asked, shaking her head.
"Considering your intent for purchasing it - and the fact that we are essentially putting a price on a man or mer's soul - I'd say-"
"No." Vernanye's words caught him by surprise, and interrupted him. "No, I... never mind. I'd..." She bit her lower lip hard enough to break the skin. "...I'd rather remain as... I am... than condemn someone else in such a way. Besides... it's not my place, nor yours, to put a numerical value upon another's soul."
He regarded her intently for a moment. "You would bear the curse of vampirism simply to save the soul of another?" he asked quietly.
"I would." She didn't like it, but she felt a sense of internal calm, knowing she wouldn't be paying such a price for her own selfish desires.
"Even a bandit would suffice," he said. "No one likes-"
"I know," she interrupted. "But it's as I said... I wouldn't wish that fate on anyone. Not even my worst enemy."
He regarded her for a moment longer. "Follow me. I've seen the strength of your conviction... and have something I wish to show you. We'll see where your thoughts lie after you've seen it."
"Will I... will I like it?" she asked.
He turned from her and began walking away. "That depends on just how closely you adhere to your morality," was all he offered her.
Alone.
Well, not truly alone.
The saber kitten was simply having too much fun wandering Winterhold! There was so much to see, and just as much to sniff at!
And the people! Oh, the people! The saber kitten's tail swished back and forth each time someone stopped to pet it, and it gave the cutest mewl at each affectionate touch. It even tried to return the affectionate gesture with a playful little nip a few times here and there, but the people seemed alarmed by that.
Why? It was playful. Was playful nipping really so wrong?
There was still so much it didn't understand. There was still so much it didn't know about the big, wide world.
A leaf blew off a snowberry bush, catching the saber kitten's attention. It lowered itself to the ground, watching the leaf flutter in the wind that had taken it off... then pounced!
Its paws fell just short of actually snagging the leaf, though, and the kitten pawed playfully at the leaf for a while longer. Still, the wind bore it away from the kitten, as if nature itself was playing with the curious critter.
Well, if nature wanted to play with the kitten, the kitten would happily play right back! It continued to chase the leaf, even as the wind blew it south, away from the strange wooden beams and stranger wooden walls of the big, unnatural formations that people walked in and out of.
The kitten preferred it that way. The strange formations were peculiar anyway... unsettling, at times. Even the bigger cats the kitten had been so familiar with preferred smaller formations. Maybe bigger cats weren't so different from the kitten?
The wind blew the leaf higher, much higher than the kitten could reach with a strong leap. It simply sat and watched for a time, waiting for the leaf to drift close enough to the ground once more. It would. Things always did. Everything eventually came down to the ground again, no matter how high up it may travel.
Sure enough, the leaf began to descend once more. The saber kitten crouched, readied a pounce... then lunged at the leaf once it was close enough.
Yet again, nature whisked the leaf away from the kitten's outstretched paws. The kitten landed upon its paws, its gaze snapping to the evasive leaf. The wind continued to blow it south, away from the playful kitten.
It wouldn't be so easily daunted, however! That leaf would belong to the kitten eventually, no matter how hard nature tried to deny it!
The wind shifted a little, and blew the leaf further down the stony pathway that the kitten had sometimes seen people walking on. It led away from the strange wooden formations that they entered and departed. It led to the wide open world beyond.
The kitten paused for a moment, as if sensing the vastness of the world beyond the formations. It cast a brief glance back at the formations, as if expecting that one elf it liked so much to come out for it, to speak in those funny little tones that they used.
It had been a while now since the kitten had seen that elf. The other people didn't seem all too worried about the situation, though. Maybe the elf was just ill?
The leaf settled upon the stony path. The kitten seemed to be made aware of that fact, for it turned its head back to the evasive leaf. It crouched once more, readying a pounce... then leapt through the air, tiny claws coming forth as it went to seize the leaf!
As if nature were expecting the lunge, the wind picked the leaf up once more and carried it away from the kitten. Claws made contact with the stone upon which the leaf had just been resting on, and the kitten's eyes were once more upon the airborne leaf.
Well, if the elf wouldn't play with the kitten, the kitten would play with nature! Seeing no reason to remain in such an odd place anyway, the kitten began to chase the leaf down the stony path...
"It's... a black soul gem." Vernanye sounded amused.
"A filled black soul gem," Falion added. "Not just any soul, either... not if the stories are to be believed." He tapped the top of the glass case that held a black soul gem, upon which several peculiar runes had been carved by someone. "It's said that this soul gem comes from the time of the Oblivion Crisis. If the story is to be believed, the soul that fills it belongs to one of the most detested figures in Tamrielic history."
"Who?"
Falion glanced from side to side, as if worried someone else would overhear it. Even when he responded, it was in a whisper that even she had to strain to hear.
"Mannimarco, the King of Worms."
"You jest," she responded quietly.
"As I said, if the story is to be believed..." He waved it off. "It could be just another bandit's soul, for all we know... but the stories all suggest that this soul gem in particular was etched with the runes you see upon its facets to remind the one who cast the soul trap spell who was within it. Certainly, there are no other black soul gems that look like this one..."
"True, but anyone could etch-"
"Anyone could etch runes, true, but I doubt just anyone could possibly know which runes were used upon the soul gem that allegedly houses Mannimarco's soul."
Vernanye looked at the soul gem intently. "...Let's suppose it's true. Why are you showing me this?"
"I would offer it as the soul gem for the ritual to cure you. What better insult to the King of Worms than to sacrifice his soul to reverse undeath? What better way to spit in the face of Mannimarco than to use his corrupt and twisted soul for such a noble purpose?"
She looked at Falion. "Why me? I'm hardly anyone of any real importance..."
"Unlike other vampires I've aided, you value the life of a man or mer's soul. You would be willing to retain the curse, rather than condemn an innocent soul for what you consider to be selfish purposes."
"Mannimarco was once-"
"Yes, he was a mortal, once," Falion agreed. "I think all of Tamriel will agree, however, that he deserves far worse than he got."
Vernanye weighed the possible consequences of the decision... and found none. "How much?"
"I said I would offer it, but if you would rather pay for it..." He crossed his arms, offering no further words.
"Then... I accept the offer. Thank you." She smiled at Falion.
"Good. There is a ritual circle outside of town, to the northwest of Morthal. Meet me there at dawn, and we'll turn you back from what you've become... vampire."
Adalla felt restless. She hadn't gotten any sleep the prior evening, unlike Mia, and had decided to take a walk when the sun rose over Windhelm. Her friend was still in town, though.
Mia. Even now, Adalla felt like the woman was a mystery. For the first week or two in the Uttering Hills ruin, the high elf thought Mia was a Nord... but she didn't seem to have their natural resistance to cold, judging from how concerned she often was with it. Her next thought was Imperial, but she just didn't seem like an Imperial... Breton didn't seem as likely, for Mia boasted no natural resistance to magic. It was obvious she was no Redguard, too.
Which left no other known race for Adalla to consider. Of the four, Imperial seemed most likely, but Adalla still had her doubts.
And then there was the fact that she was Dragonborn... and seemed to hate that fact completely... to the point where she'd threatened - and inflicted - bodily harm to the two cultists who addressed her, quite brazenly, as such.
Who was Mia, and why did Adalla feel so comfortable around such a mysterious woman...?
Her thoughts were jerked back to reality when her foot nearly slipped into the frigid waters. Somehow, her wandering had taken her to the Windhelm docks. For a time, she simply watched the people who rose that early in the morning.
"Here ya be," she heard Mia's voice, which made Adalla jump. "Couldn't find ya anywhere else."
"Mia..." The high elf turned to face her friend. "Sorry. Didn't mean to worry you."
Mia waved it off. "No harm done. So... listen, I been doin' some thinkin'... and I were thinkin' we should head t'the College, up north."
"The College?" Adalla repeated. "Why?"
"Because... well, like I said, I were doin' some thinkin'... and... and I can't stay close-minded t'what I am, much as I'd like t'do just that. If I'm gonna hate somethin', I oughta understand it better, y'know what I'm sayin'?"
It took Adalla a moment to realize what Mia was saying. "You want to know... what it means to be Dragonborn."
Mia tensed at the word, but gave a nod regardless. "Aye. I could head t'High Hrothgar, but I'd rather not for a buncha reasons. It's colder up there, it's further away than the College, and I still don't like the idea of meetin' with them Greybeards. Maybe the College has the answers I want. I dunno; maybe not. Still, it's worth a shot, aye?"
Adalla gave a smile and a nod. "Right." She looked out over the water, and sighed softly. "So when would we be leaving?"
"Now, if yer ready. The sooner we do this, the lower the chances of me changin' my mind."
A.N. - So things are getting tense.
I know it was probably 'out of left field' to have something centered around Elenwen's saber kitten... but it occurred to me that, all through the Nightgate Inn sections, there was no mention of the kitten ANYWHERE. It made me feel bad. I didn't want to forget the adorable little ball of fur this time. So, having the saber kitten run off into the wilds of Skyrim, south of Winterhold, was my answer. (There is a point to this, by the way - it wasn't just filler.)
Irileth and Runael have never been on the same precise level. They have the capacity to get along, but in the end, they both want to do the same thing different ways. I have perhaps a little too much fun writing bits of story between them. I will admit, I had quite a bit of fun writing the bit where Irileth punched Runael, a few chapters back; to me, that's when it hit me... 'these two tolerate and like each other just enough to not be considered rivals/enemies, yet still have their qualms with the other'. Or, more like, Irileth has qualms with Runael, who occasionally acts like the haughty high elf she is.
You ever like creating a character, and then planting seeds of doubt in said character's mind? That's exactly what I've done with Thellias, who's a tad more intuitive than is probably good for him - or either Runael or Vernanye. I enjoyed creating his character chapters ago, and he still remains one of my favorite characters to write. There's still so much more to him than I'm letting on... but that's for another time.
Mia and Adalla may not seem to have a point in this story much longer; that thought occurred to me while I was writing last chapter. The thing is, they do; this isn't the last time they'll have involvement in the general storyline.
Now, onto other things!
ESO! I meant to talk about this in the last chapter's Author's Note, but in the Aldmeri Dominion quests (as seen with Leuran), there is a quest giver... named Elenwen. Sheer coincidence? I have no idea. It doesn't help that her hair color is much the same as it is in Skyrim. This, though, begs the question... exactly how old is Elenwen, if the ESO incarnation and the Skyrim carnations are one and the same?! I'd always thought of her as younger. MUCH younger. Obviously not 'pre-teen' younger, but more like... well, think mid-20s for a human, maybe late-20s, early- to mid-30s. But if they are one and the same, that suggests that Elenwen is over 1000 years old... at least, if I'm write in recalling how far back ESO was set in comparison to Skyrim. Either way, the Elenwen in ESO is... actually kind of cute. Though that's just my opinion. External beauty only says so much about an individual anyway.
Does that mean I've been playing since I last updated? No, it doesn't, unfortunately. I've been tired and ill, sadly, and didn't write this chapter until just earlier today. I may be able to find time to play again soon, but we'll see, I guess.
Modding. I haven't done anything with it lately, unfortunately. I've wanted to; in fact, I want to make a quest line with a handful of new characters, a couple of new followers, some new locations, and maybe a few new items. (I'm undecided on the 'items' front, as I'm not particularly skilled at creating weapons with custom appearances.) There are some obvious challenges to this, though: writing dialogue for every single character involved, creating (and cluttering!) the new locations, and trying to keep the story of the quests gripping, intriguing, what have you. I've also been considering something as 'simple' as a player home somewhere in the world. In fact, just the other night, I was exploring Eastmarch, looking for likely locales. I'd really like to do something near Kynesgrove, for whatever reason, but the only place I could find had a bunch of stumps just south of the chicken coop... which is fine, except one of the chickens likes to wander around there. I know I can change that, but I'd rather see if there are any other spots where the home's not as... 'intrusive'.
I have created a few custom spells, though. I haven't released them to Steam or NexusMods, mostly because that miniature project isn't done yet... but I might in the future. So far, I've got a Frost spell that inflicts the Ice Form freezing effect. And it's 'spammable', unlike the Ice Form shout, which you have to wait for. Unfortunately, I can't seem to find a way to get the cost of the spell where I'd like it to be... apparently, Ice Form is a wicked cheap effect, as far as magicka costs go. That's another reason I haven't released it yet. (I did a similar thing with Unrelenting Force, turning it into a spell that could be 'spammed'. I don't remember what I did there, but that one had a bit of a magicka cost to it...)
I'm keeping my eyes and ears open for news on Warlords of Draenor, the up-and-coming World of Warcraft expansion. I can't remember if I've touched on this before, but on the whole, the expansion holds little to no interest for me. The only thing that really strikes me as interesting is the new world PvP zone they'll be releasing, which is supposed to be like Alterac Valley Battlegrounds were waaay back in the day. I never had the opportunity to play a game of old-time AV, but would have liked to at some point - at least once. This new world PvP zone should give off the same feel... emphasis on 'should'. Beyond that, though, the storyline of WoD just isn't interesting to me, and while new character models will be nice to look at, they are not going to be worth spending money monthly just to play an expansion for a game that's quickly losing my interest. Still, I'm giving the occasional bit of attention to the future of WoW.
...I'd say this Author's Note is long enough. Until next time!
-Spiritslayer