I finally saw the light of day! So beeautiful the sun was! Of course, I would have continued to enjoy this wonderous event if I did not reek of sewage and my equipment was in sub-standard condition. The only item of real worth to me was the steel shortsword, for it reminded me of my first weapon I used in training back in Morrowind, while I was still living in Tel Fyr. For now, I needed to get out of here and make myself presentable.
And I needed to remind myself to check out those lovely ruins on the other side of the river: looks like it could be worth my time.
Luckily, the majestic Imperial City was in sight, so I trudged forward to make it there. By the position of the sun, it appeared that it was getting close to noon. As far as I am concerned, that is good: I was starving and that meant the shops would be open. I wasn't keen on people seeing some disgusting, grimy looking Dark Elf wander into town with broken equipment and smelling like a Guar's dung: that is for the lizard-like Argonians. As I neared the city, I realised that I would need to disguise myself, for I didn't want people to know who I was and what I did. Thank Azura I still had those disgusting sack pants from prison. I took off my ragged armor and weapon and just wore these sack cloth pants before I entered the Market District of the city.
My first instinct was to find an inn: any inn would do. Luckily ,the Merchant's Inn was closest to me, and the innkeeper did not ask any questions as I asked for both a room and a place to wash up. He gave me both, and I was on my way. An hour of washing later, and I was at least a clean smelling and better groomed looking homeless f'lah. I can handle walking around shirtless and clad in just pants: I happen to be quite proud of my physique. Quite a few ladies looked my way as I strolled about the market, looking for a place to sell my wares. Next door of the inn was A Fighting Chance, a weapon store owned by the elderly Redguard Rhossan. Time was certainly kind to he: her wrinkled face bore a proud and strong look, and I must admit that she certainly kept herself fit. After some conversing and such, I had her repair my wares and sold off everything except my red hood and steel shortsword.
And Divayth had always told me I should keep stuff more often. Looks like I'm the one with money now!
Now for a change of clothing. To my surprise (and fortune), the marketplace is littered with crates and barrels that nobody would claim. I clamly searched through the containers, and procured some decent clothing to reflect what I considered my heritage: Burgandy linen shirt and pants, with some deerskin shoes. Decked out with much better clothing, I continued my stroll of the district and occasionally flirting with the Imperial and Breton women who came by. Lovely ladies to be sure, though I feel that my heritage as a Dark Elf probably marred my social interactions: We Dunmeri men aren't very social, as compared to our women.
To my delight, I actually met another Dunmer: the flin merchant Ulen Athram! He had retired here with his wife from Vvardenfell, and seem to enjoy here better than home. Now, I hold no love for those false Tribunal gods that the Temple forces worship of, but Morrowind is still my home. After saying my farewells, I decided it was time to go check out those ruins.
Bandits... What a surprise. To my dismay, I found two of these loathsome mongrels camping outside the statuesque ruins. I had no idea where I was, but I decided that those Bandits did not need their Fur armor or equipment. I'm sure they agreed when the skeleton I summoned hacked them to bits with it's axe. The cat-like Khajiit bandit went down first, and the Bosmer (Or Wood Elves as many will call them. Pixies if you ask me) dropped his bow and tried to fight me with a dagger. I eagerly showed him why we Dunmer are superior swordsmen.
As I snuck into the ruins, I noticed that it was dim and dark: just what I like. Down the stairs stood one of the dark skinned Redguards, and we clashed weapons before my shortsword manged to cut into his chest before his mighty warhammer would crush my skull like an egg. Continuing my vigilant stalking, I found two more bandits at the bottom of the stairs: a fellow Dunmer and a Redguard. The Dunmeri woman looked quaint, and she had a pretty mean snarl on her face: I doubt she would try to talk to me instead of bludgeoning me to death with her mace. The iron dagger I picked up from the Bosmer easily silenced any cries she would make, and I snuck up on the Redguard to deliver a fatal stab. The pierced into the side definately hurt, and I struck him down before he could get up. He wore a full set of Fur armor, so I looted it all except the helmet: I prefer my red hood.
By now, I was nearly bursting with so much loot. I think Rhossan will have to start advertising selling light armor, given how much I'm selling to her. Before I go back to the city, I ensured to change into my nicer clothing and remove my hood before strolling to the merchants. It was close to supper, so after bidding Rhossan farewell I decided to have a hot, cooked meal at the Merchant's Inn and get some rest. The proprietor, Velus Hosidius, told me that word of the Emperor's assissination reached the surface world. He gave me a copy of the Black Hourse Courier, a newspaper containing the news. I have to remember to pray to my ancestors for blessing me wit hthe luck of not being mentioned in the news.
Now that I think about it, I still have an amulet to deliver. To Chorrol. Now I had some new problems:
1. What are those strange marble ruins with glowing blue stones?
2. Where is Chorrol?
3. How will I get there?
I am told there is a bookstore in this district. After a good night's rest, I'll be sure to go check it out and purchase some literauture so I can figure out what are these ruins I am plundering and learn more about the strange continent of Cyrodiil.
My adventure is just beginning.
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