They chose a cliff overlooking a lake. A location with good visibility that could be easily defended, as well as plenty of flat land ahead they could eventually expand out into. They would have to drag water up from the lake below, but that was easy enough, especially when they got the well and pulley system up and running.

"We could even set up the privy system so it would release the foulness downriver," Voriron Laemaen suggested. " I suggest starting with six rainwater collecting stations. We can build more as time progresses and the need increases. Too many upfront, and we'll be stuck potentially with more water than we could deal with. Purifying it all would be a hassle, as was keeping it clean."

Erilda Grayiuth surveyed the environment and nodded. "The tales were true. This land is tainted. We'll try six at first; the coming days will give us a better idea of the need. Keep in mind, we'll need to purify the water used in the greenhouse as well. We don't need to taint the food and herbs; we're trying to heal and prevent illnesses, not further them."

'Or lead them to be resistant to our treatments,' the Altmer woman thought to herself. She tucked a loose strand of smooth, silvery blonde hair behind one of her long, pointed ears, and squinted amber eyes at the rising sun. "Assuming the sun still rises in the east in this strange land, we should tell Aratte to start setting up the greenhouse over there."

She flicked her hand in the southeast direction of what would be there their central building. Two of their general assistants, Oisilo Nereth and Fiiyon Elsinfhar, were drafting out the general layout of the building in the dirt -occasionally pausing to consult their notes. Soon enough, the runes and sigils would be painted, and the proper spells would be chanted. Then, they'd have their general clinic.

Well, for now, general everything. For now, she and the others would work, eat, and sleep in that building. The majority of the ground floor would be their clinic, with treatment cots divided by hanging curtains. It wouldn't be the cleanest, and certainly wouldn't give the patients much privacy, but it would have to do for now. The back of the first floor would be the kitchen, as well as the dual washroom and laundry. The second floor was smaller and full of narrow bedrooms; it would be cramped, especially since some people would be sharing rooms. Menane Sagelock, their head cook, would even be sleeping in the kitchen pantry for the foreseeable future.

'Trying as it will be, I am confident everyone will learn to deal with it. After all, everyone knew what they were sacrificing by coming here,' Erilda thought.

Besides, as time went on, the settlement would expand. They'd set up separate, smaller buildings that could specialize in specific ailments. One would be for children, another for treating pregnant women, there would be a quarantine building for those who are especially sick, and a sealed-off room for those who required intense surgical procedures. There would be a place for those who needed long-term treatments and had to stay overnight, and so on. There were plans for other types of buildings too. An alchemist tower for Voriron and his apprentices. There'd be a dorm for staff, giving everyone their own room or even sets of rooms if needed. Perhaps they could even create a separate dorm for patients and their families, both for those who needed longer treatments and if they didn't want to travel at night. People rarely did back in the Summerset Isles, Erilda doubted it would be any different in this strange world.

Soon there would be a washhouse and a separate building for laundry. Laundry, Elrida was certain, would be a major issue once they started to take on patients.

They'd set up a storage silo for raw materials, and maybe even a second greenhouse as time went on. Old Tanil Caemthar had even talked about wanting a library and records building!

Erilda shook her head out. 'There's no use thinking about things like that just yet. The here and now, that's what's important. Getting the clinic up and running, that is the first step to helping the people of this land.'

"Since the greenhouse is going to the southeast of the central building, we should have the barn set up to the northwest. That way, if any animals get out, they won't go straight for the crops," she suggested.

One of their benefactors in High Rock had been generous to provide a sizable about of livestock for Erilda and Voriron's expedition. Admittedly, the size of their herd would come with some drawbacks. Feeding, carrying, and cleaning up after two horses, four cows, six sheep, six goats, four pigs, and fifteen chickens wouldn't be easy. Yet Erilda was still thankful for them. The horses would allow them to travel, the cows and goats provided milk, the sheep with wool, and the chickens with eggs. Admittedly, the pigs did not provide an immediate benefit, but even they could always be sold or butchered for their meat.

'Still glad I will not be mucking out those stalls.'

No matter how many decades passed or how hard she tried to distance herself from her origins, part of Erilda would always be a pampered, proper noblewoman. And that part of Erilda was thankful they had Nalaen Ivymire and his wife, Nilfina to care for the animals.

"Sounds reasonable, not that I know much about tending to livestock," Voriron said with a chuckle. "Do you want to confer with Ivymire while I speak with Aratte?"

"Hmmm. No, I will speak with her. If I let you go off with the girl, you two will end up spending the day talking about the properties of flowers and roots. You'll never get anything else done," Erilda replied. She hid a grin behind a hand as her partner grumbled. "Go on, shoo!"

"You don't even like Aratte!"

"I respect her abilities and conviction, that is all that is needed."

Erilda no longer bothered hiding her amusement as Voriron stomped off. A younger version of herself would have scolded at the childish display, yet now she was glad she could enjoy the lightness her partner and friend brought to the situation.

Perhaps it was to be expected. Voriron's life had been so different from her own. Yes, they had both been born into wealthy, noble Altmer families -known for their breeding and magical abilities. But while Erilda grew to be everything her family said was required of her -including the one-time wife of an exceptionally well-bred man and excelling at any form of magic put in front of her- Voriron had been rejected by his family. Like all Altmer children, he had been tested in magic since a young age... Only to have absolutely no talent for it. Such an abnormality brought shame to the Laemaen bloodline, even casting doubt on his mother's faithfulness to her husband -an accomplished mage in his own right. So Voriron had been thrown out, and left to find his own way.

Not even 75 years of age, Voriror found himself in Skyrim, where he managed to convince a talented alchemist to apprentice him. The rest, humans say, was history. 50 years later, Voriror stood by her side, a master alchemist with few equals.

'Living among humans for so long, it undoubtedly took its toll on him. He acts more like the common Nord than he does an Altmer,' Erilda noted. 'It's not unexpected, yet I can't help but wish sometimes that he would take more pride in his heritage.'

"Erilda!"

'Speaking of heritage...'

Aratte Applevale was a pretty thing -for a Bosmer, that is. Like all of her kind, she was short -the top of her head not even reaching Erilda's chin- and petite. Erilda had seen her climb high in trees, her weight never even seeming to affect even the thinnest of branches. The healer supposed that made it easy for Aratte to collect plant clippings and other alchemic ingredients that could be found in the treetops. This sense of delicateness extended to her features as well. Aratte's face was pleasantly heart-shaped, with a narrow nose, high cheekbones, and full lips. Her pale green skin was a rarity, even among the Bosmer; though combined with her waist length, brunette hair, and sturdy, earth-toned clothing it certainly made it easier for her to move about in the forest without being spotted.

However, even rarer than Arette's skin tone was the two horns that sprouted from the crown of her head. Each about three inches long, and slightly curled, their tan coloring faded to match her hair color near the base of her skull. When Aratte wore a cap, or had the hood of her cloak her horns were near-impossible to see. This close though? Erilda had a hard time taking her eyes off them.

"There is no need to shout, Arette," Erilda said dryly as she approached the younger woman, forcing herself to focus on the Bosmer's face. "I was close enough and, besides, we are supposed to avoid unnecessary havoc until we have proper defenses up."

Crouched over her precious box of plant seeds and clippings, Aratte didn't even look up. "Considering how much noise will be made when we set up the buildings, me shouting your name will hardly matter. Besides, I know you want to go over my plans before we get the greenhouse started."

'How presumptive,' Erilda thought, lips pursing. She bit back the comment though, now was neither the time nor place. Instead, she swallowed and said, "Very well. Share with me your plans."

"Well, first off, I'm going to focus hard on growing as many of the ingredients that Voriron needs for his healing potions as possible. That's blue mountain flowers, blisterwart, imp stool, swamp fungal pod, corkbulb root, flame stock, marshmerrow, and saltrice."

"I know the ingredients necessary for brewing a basic health potion, Arette. Please get to the point, I have much to oversee today."

The Bosmer woman didn't even look up. "Then you may have realized that half of the ingredients alchemists like to use cannot be grown, like rock warbler eggs or felsaad tern feathers. Even wheat, one of the most commonly used components, cannot be counted on because much of what I can grow will be going to Menane in the kitchens."

Erilda's lips tightened further. "What are you trying to say?"

Sweet and pretty that she could be, Aratte was rarely one for socialization. The Bosmer preferred her plants to people, by her own admission. And while she never seemed to intentionally be rude or dismissive, it could certainly appear that way. Especially since Arette was not one to mince her words or draw out topics she felt needed to be discussed.

Through the course of their working relationship, Erilda wondered if this aspect of Aratte's personality was simply innate to her, or if it came from her meager 60 years alive. While no one could deny the Bosmer's skill in the greenhouse -the archery range for that matter- her youth was an inescapable fact that had to affect Aratte.

Standing up, Aratte brushed dirt from the knees of her trousers. Moss green eyes met Erida's amber and the Bosmer sighed. "I've seen your notes, Erilda, and I know about your plans for this place, what you hope to do, and what you hope it can become. And I believe in that vision, I wouldn't have signed up for this expedition otherwise. But I'm saying that, even with all your planning, you still missed things. We'll need a way to get those ingredients that I can't grow-"

"Our benefactors have agreed to send regular supplies. And I can always make note of what we need. Additionally, those private plans are long-term goals, I don't plan to have them finished anytime soon," Erilda replied, her irritation rising.

"And you truly trust that the supply chain will always be open?" Aratte asked, cocking an eyebrow. When Erilda fell silent, she continued. "Look, I'm not discrediting your planning. I just want us to become fully self-sufficient as soon as possible. That means a breeding population of animals, a way to plant more food -even if that means designing a way to purify this tainted soil-, and an aviary we can stock with birds from Tamriel. More than that, we need to be making our own food, who knows how long our stores will last, our own soaps, and even clothes."

She gave Erilda a small, somber smile. "You've said it yourself: we're going to be here for a long time. We might as well start acting like it."

.

.

.

'I truly have picked the right team for my mission,' Erilda thought. She didn't let her pride show, however; it wouldn't do to let Aratte or any of her people get an inflated sense of self-worth. Instead, crossing her arms and giving a small nod. "I will take your suggestions into consideration. As I have will everyone's suggestions. I cannot guarantee they will be implemented, let alone implemented anytime soon, but I promise to give them sincere consideration"

"That's all I ask," Aratte replied.

Her smile widening, Bosmer gave Erilda a hearty slap to the shoulder. One that had Erilda trying not to cringe at the smear of dirt on her robe. "Now, let's get to work period we all have so much to do. And, the sooner we can get it done, the sooner we can start helping people."


Ding! Ding! Ding!

Erilda clinked her spoon against the side of her wineglass, attempting to draw the attention of her entire team. "I would like everyone's attention. Attention please!"

All talking died slowly as fifteen heads turned to face her. The long table that had been set up in the center of their newly constructed clinic fit everyone -with Erilda comfortably seated at the head seat- though it was a tight squeeze. The Altmer healer suspected they'd be dealing with more than one spilled drink tonight and for the nights to come.

'We just have to endure it for now,' Erilda repeated to herself. Putting on a bright, regal smile, she addressed her people.

"I call for a toast... A toast for our first night in our new home. When I conceived of this expedition, I knew it would be difficult to find like-minded individuals to aid me for fifteen years I searched and searched, I met people and discarded them when they proved to lack the fortitude for such an undertaking. Sometimes, I even doubted I would ever find the people I needed."

Erilda's mind drifted to those years and she swallowed hard, fighting the urge to shiver.

"And yet, in the end, I did. I found all of you. You all chose to join me knowing it was possible, or even likely, that you would never be able to return to Tamriel on a long-term basis. And you chose to come all the same. Because, I like to think, you share a vision of aiding the people of this world just as I do. And for that, I would like to reward you."

Pulling the small crate full of newly made, empty journals from under her seat, Erilda separated them into two stacks, passing one stack down each line of people so that all would end up with one.

"I had these journals specially made for this expedition. There is one for each of you, one for each of you so that you may write down your feelings, hopes, dreams, and plans for your life in this new world. On top of your regular reports that you will fill out and turn in to me when we begin treating patients, I would like you to write in them. It is voluntary, yes, but I hope these records of our lives we'll be able to chronicle our efforts, both for this world and for our home world. People deserve to know our stories. Perhaps they will even be enough to inspire others to continue our work after we're gone."

As everyone took a chance to admire the journals, some trading with each other for designs they liked better, the delicious aroma of supper wafted in from the kitchen. Araldo 's stomach clenched in displeasure at its emptiness, telling the Altmer healer a long speech wouldn't be appreciated. If she was hungry, her fellows certainly would be too.

Holding her drink high, Erilda called out, "That is all for now. So... let us toast our first night here, in Second Change. May it prosper."

"May it prosper!"