In a Hostile Country: The Saga of Cahmel (Let’s Play Morrowind, Part 12)

Alright, Cahmel fans/stalkers, we’ve reached a red letter day. I’ve officially blown through the week or so of gameplay this series has thus far been based upon. This means that starting now, I can actually, you know, play the game I’ve been Let’s Playing.

This would be fantastic, save for one little detail:

I didn’t actually notice that my buffer was running low until I sat down to sort out this post today.

Relax, relax. Lower your empty beer cans and molotov cocktails. I’m still going to give you a post, but it’s going to involve going back and showing some things I glossed over in my LP.

For example:

Pemenie’s Bounty:

Some of you may recall that I went a good deal out of my way to escort some merchant lady about half a mile down a marked road, all in exchange for some cursed boots. Turns out, this fascinating study in wasting time was not yet complete.

If you ask around the town you escort her to, a lot of the townsfolk will remark that the trader (Pemenie) has a reputation as a liar, a cheat, and a swindler. They don’t mention her poor sense of direction or lackluster taste in footwear, but it’s implied. Anyway, according to some of them, there’s a bounty on her head.

Desperate to wring some sort of immediate, tangible gain out of this torrid affair, I step up to Pemenie and give her what for.

She gives it back with surprising vigor, but I win the day. Booyah.

So, now all I need to do is collect the bounty. Awesome.

…where did they say I needed to gos?

No, wait, they didn’t say who was offering a bounty. They just sort of said there was one…dang it. Maybe I have to go talk to them again?

I walk the ten yards to the town, enter a general trader, and bring the subject of Pemenie up for the second time in 5 minutes. The trader within is apparently remarkably up on current events, despite never budging from his spot inside a windowless mud hut, and remarks casually that Pemenie hasn’t been seen for a while and that someone probably offed her.

I ask someone else. I get the same know-nothing attitude, despite the fact that this gentleman had the equivalent of a ringside seat to the actual murder.

I’m starting to think the NPCs in Morrowind aren’t ordinary conscious people like you and I. Instead, they’re dulled, weak members of a sort of expansive hive-mind, sharing blurred sensations over a global net. In this way, they feel out the vague contours of events near and far without ever truly comprehending them.

Or they’re just stupid unhelpful spudmonkeys.

Straight Pimpin’:

I didn’t think my gear was going to be a problem.

See, thing is, I was already pretty much as set as I was going to be when I rolled into Ald’Ruhn. Light armor/long blade users in Morrowind have it easy, man. A player who knows what he’s doing can get gear that won’t go obsolete for 15 levels within the first few minutes of the game. Think about that. Imagine if in Diablo II you could pull the gear that’d last you through Kurast right out of the Den of Evil, nestled between zombie-bits and heaps of Ridiculously Tiny Health Potion.

I mean, I had my chitin armor, which was superior to everything except a.) artifacts, b.) a few random wild pieces that aren’t part of a set and c.) the high-level crap. I bought it from two traders in the first two decent towns I visited. Also I had a steel saber, which is better than all but the best one-handed long blades, which I got from a dungeon a dozen or so feet from the first town. Basically, I was set.

Plus, I looked hardcore. Like, I’ve got the face mask, the goggles, a long steel fightin’ saber…aw yeah. I’d walk down the street like this. And the best part is, I don’t have to change it for a long, long time.

So, yeah, I’ll buzz the Ald’Ruhn armorer, but he’s not going to have anything good—

Oh. Oh crap.

I had stumbled onto a certain item that had plagued several previous playthroughs. It was a light armor helmet. It was a few points better than what I currently had. And it looked like this:

Cahmel, Rita's escaped. Bring me 5 outlanders with attitude.

Urrggghhh.

What could I do? Great. I’ve found a new, a new hat. Tell me you like my hat.

Great.

Steady There, Pilgrim:

And now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for: the conclusion of the Wrinkle-Red-Eyed-Pilgrim-Idiot Saga! The gripping finale to this journey across a continent, to this feat of navigation and

Okay, let me be honest, this turned out to be really boring. She got caught on some stuff, I fought some stuff, I bumped into a side quest about animal sex, and I dropped her off.

What?

Yes. You heard me.

I don’t want to talk about it.