In a Hostile Country: The Saga of Cahmel (Let’s Play Morrowind, Part 37)

When we last left our hero, he was preparing a daring assault on the heart of Dark Brotherhood territory. It was exactly like an episode of the A-Team, except we’ve only got three people, we weren’t framed for anything, we don’t have any clever schemes, we have nothing resembling a cool ride, and we’re marginally more skilled with 21st-century firearms. Also, I haven’t seen much of the show, but it doesn’t look like many episodes end in abject failure and pants-soiling humiliation. That’s an important distinction to establish, for reasons that I trust will eventually become clear.

Like I said earlier: the word on the street is that the Dark Brotherhood has their base of operations under the Bazaar, in the sewers. Wade around in excrement alongside a rat and a moron, all for the chance to battle with an infamous band of killers that’s dying to put my head on their trophy rack? You had me at “excrement.”

This probably isn’t a very inspiring thing to say as expedition leader, but I’m struck by how stupid this little raid is. Your choices are thus: deal with one assassin hunting you down and attacking you every so often (or so you assume; I’ve only ever had the one), or travel hundreds of miles so you can engage dozens of them at once, on their own terms and within their own territory. That’s like breaking into a police station and tampering with their records to avoid paying a Jaywalking ticket.

Sorry, tangent, let’s just get this mission over with.

Any adventurer worth his oversized pauldrons will tell you that the most important part of any extended mission is the planning phase. Skilled preparation can make or break even the most routine of runs, and going into a hostile situation without the proper resources can be a death sentence. If I cared about any of our survival, I’d have to manage our gear very carefully.

First things first: I’ve got to repair what I’ve got. Going into sustained battle with low-quality goods is a good way to get killed; your weapons won’t do as much damage and your armor won’t protect you as much. Basically, regular maintenance is the hallmark of…

How much for repairs? Eesh, that much? What are you patching it up with, experimental diamondwool? Scales from Carl Sagan’s invisible dragon? Barenziah’s panties? Screw you guys, I’ll manage. Look, it’s not even that bad. It’s just a little frayed in—okay, okay, so I can stick my finger through this hole. So what? Most weapons are way bigger than that. Unless we’re dealing with foes that have slender puncturing weapons, I should be totally fine.

My partner? Naw, he’s cool. You’re cool, right, lackey? I’m not paying for your repairs. Say you’re cool.

He’s cool.

What? The rat’s a rat. He doesn’t even wear clothes, man.

We’re moving on.

Especially in a group without a caster, such as the Knights of Cahmelot, potions are a necessity. They cover a variety of bases, enabling almost anyone to do almost anything for a short period of time. Potions can heal, restore stats, provide invisibility, provide flight—think of potions as an emergency response kit. A well-stocked potions cabinet can save your life if things hit the fan.

So, first order of business is to buy health potions. How many have you got, Mr. Local Potions Man? Oh. Oh, really? Just a couple? Okay, better than nothing. How about…Restore Strength? No? Fortify Strength? No? Feather? Magic Resistance? Poison Resistance? You don’t have any of those?

Okay, what the hell, guy. Your job has exactly one application: keep that guy who keeps running around solving everyone’s problems stocked with the liquid mojo he needs. Who else would shop here? Commoners need a potion shop like I need a boutique for dung-smeared clothing and rusted farm equipment. I can see Joe the Dunmer needing the occasional Cure Disease potion, and maybe a Health or two if some scrib-jerky related accident befalls him, but he’s otherwise got no business here whatsoever. I literally constitute at least 85% of your target demographic, man. Do some pandering already.

Okay, so that’s a bust on the repairs and the potions. Let’s move on to the minor items on my checklist.

1.    Ammunition for ranged weapons. Don’t have ranged weapons.
2.    Offensive scrolls for when things get dicey. Too expensive. Besides, I’ve already got like three of them. How chaotic could things get?
3.    Soul gems so I can recharge my enchanted items. Don’t really have any enchanted items.
4.    Set up a Mark so I can escape if things get hairy. Nah, don’t have a Recall spell. As long as I don’t get stranded in the middle of nowhere with dozens of enemies between me and the way I came in, this shouldn’t be a problem. Which, let’s face it, that’s pretty damn improbable. I should be fine.

Well, that’s that list taken care of. Only thing left to do is sell all of my excess gear so I’m not carrying around too much dead weight. Eh—screw it. I don’t feel like it, and I’ve got two-able bodied pack mules to schlep things for me. As long as nothing happens to them, I’ll be able to carry all this stuff and anything I find down in the sewers.

Enough stalling, then. Let’s get this wildly successful operation on the road! Well, under the road, anyway. Knights of Cahmelot, we ride for the septic system!

Thankfully, the sewers don’t appear to have any waste in them. Or, indeed, any channels for waste to travel through. Or water, outside of flooded natural tunnels and the occasional stagnant pool. Really, you have to wonder what the point is, other than to serve as a sort of wildlife reservation for lowlife murderers and inconvenient undead.

There’s initially no sign of the DB—apparently, their hideout is kind of deeper within the sewers. The place would feel quite lonely, if it weren’t for all of the bloody irritating skeletons and ghosts loitering around like delinquents on a Friday afternoon.

I’m actually fairly impressed at how well the Knights work together in a fight. Before long, I’d found a foolproof tactic: I’d attract one of the lone enemies, hide behind something, then try to hold the attention of the creature while my partners gamely chipped away at their health. A little rough, and about as fancy as deep-fried SPAM, but it worked like a charm. It’s really quite effective–as long as we’re only fighting two enemies at once at any given time, I think this tactic will serve us well.

We penetrate deeper into the sewers, searching for some sign of the Dark Brotherhood—also, an actual sewer system. Our first search bears fruit when we come across a doorway professing to lead to Old Mournhold. It seems that the sewers have a direct, established connection to an entirely pristine district of Ancient Mournhold. Basically, just imagine if Americans could access an untouched deserted colonial town via a side door in a subway tunnel. The academic knowledge and cultural understanding that could be gleaned from such a place is staggering. Understandably, the government of Morrowind has decided to lovingly preserve this national treasure by surrendering it to a cabal of killers. Why study and commemorate ancient structures when you can let violent criminals use them as clubhouses? Criminals that are, ostensibly, weaker than one adventurer with nothing better to do that weekend? Criminals whose favorite hobbies include murdering politicians, like the ones who’d be making this call? This is the face of responsible civic engineering.

Okay, whatever, not our problem. Actually, it totally is our problem, since the negligence of the government almost got me assassinated, but let’s move on anyway. As soon as we go through this door, we’re in Dark Brotherhood territory, and there’d danger around every historically significant corner. There are a couple of rules of engagement to keep in mind:

1.)    Eyes open at all times.
2.)    Swords ready at all times.
3.)    You guys get to go first.
4.)    I am in charge of distributing health potions. If you’re injured in a fight and you need one, please fill out the following form describing your injury and why you need to treat it, and I’ll get you one within 4-7 business days.
5.)    We divide loot as follows: it is all mine.
6.)    We divide credit as follows: it is all mine.
7.)    We divide targets as follows: they all are yours.

Got it? Good.

Let’s roll.