In a Hostile Country: The Saga of Cahmel (Let’s Play Morrowind, Part 46)

Yeah, for some reason, I don’t seem to have any screenshots for the last chunk of Morrowind playthrough. Rather than just do the post sans-shot, like last time, I figure I’ll just go through today and laboriously re-take all of them. It’s probably my fault, anyway–either I was pressing the wrong button, or I didn’t have enough room, or maybe I was just an idiot and wasn’t running FRAPS. Whatever the case, I’ll be back with screenshots from last session, screenshots from this one, and a full-length post on top of them.

I’ll probably put the post in this space, just for the sake of housekeeping. I know it’s not like I’m wasting actual paper, but for some reason, I always get antsy when filler posts and announcements. Maybe I just like the post count to accurately reflect the amount of content on the site, or maybe I’m just bent. Well, certainly both–it’s a matter of degrees, I suppose.

Tonight’s post is the last part of the open letter, to be found below. Yes, I’m going to actually send it.

Right, time for the actual post. I’ve got some good news and bad news.

The bad news is, I can’t find my CD. Well, okay, no, I know perfectly well where the CD is, I just can’t get it at the moment. The good news is, I’ve already done the necessary legwork…and as far as visual aids go, I’ve made do with what I had. To wit: a tablet, some free time, and a sketching addiction.

Pictured: Cahmel, wearing his class-specific hat on top of his helment.

Now, introduction’s over. Let’s dive right into tonight’s post.

When we last left our valiant hero, he was courageously battling rats and egg thieves, then seeking out the enemies of the Fighter’s Guild and mercilessly bribing them. Okay, let’s face it, low-level Fighter’s Guild quests are pretty damn weak.

I was hoping this outfit would be a little more glamorous than this. Isn’t the Fighter’s Guild supposed to represent honor, loyalty, not taking the last bread roll, and all that swishy warrior’s code crap that’s real popular with people who’ve never been in an actual fight? Because so far, the only quest I’ve done that I’d classify as actual fighting was that one outside of Caldera’s mine. Heavily armed agents, entrenched position–you’d look at that one on paper, and you’d go, “Yep, we’re going to need a hard nut for this.  Bring me an outlander with attitude.” The last two quests you could entrust with a secretary, a clerk, or even just an ATM machine with the Fighter’s Guild account information entered in and a bastard tax pre-entered on its keypad. As for the others…rats, and a couple lousy crooks with pickaxes. You really telling me those weren’t something the local authorities could handle? Did they really need to sign an expensive contract with the Fighter’s Guild to get those problems resolved? That’s like calling the A Team because your neighbor’s dog keeps crapping in your vegetable garden.

Whatever, moving on. What have you got for me? Oh, you say that there’s a known orcish outlaw in town, and you want me to go over to her house and kill her for you? Yeah, I’m going to stop you right there.

So, this person that you want me to kill, she’s a known lawbreaker? On the record as breaking various laws, some of them quite important? Here’s a thought, then: why haven’t the cops done anything about her? Isn’t it their job to pick up on little things like murderers setting up shop in the middle of town? It’s not like the woman is lying low–she’s got her own three-story house in the middle of town, in a burg where approximately six people own property of any kind. I mean, even if the city watch is hesitant to make a move, the homeowner’s association would be on them like  a ton of bricks. An orcish Ned Kelly in the neighborhood can not be good for property values.

And if the city isn’t aware that they’ve got a murderous bastard in their midst (present company excepted), how are they going to react to me wandering into her house in the middle of the day, killing her, and taking all of her stuff?  My, “It’s okay because they’re evil and this is totally a legitimate quest of something,” excuse is starting to wear a bit thin, and really, if it’s my word versus my getting savagely beaten and subsequently incarcerated, I don’t see many people picking the former option. Some people have kissable lips, but evidence has taught me that Cahmel has mashable face.

Funny thing was, when I went around town asking where she could be found (since I’m a hard-boiled detective, and since I’m too lazy to check the six buildings in town to figure out which one is hers), some of the townsfolk referred to her as a man, despite the mission briefing stating clearly that she was a woman. I have to say, on visiting “her”, I’m led to question my initial intelligence. Also: my religion.

She's too sexy for her sleeves. That, or her sleeves are on strike, citing a cruel and unsafe working environment.

The fight is as brief as it is brutal; that is to say, it’s a little too long to be exciting and it’s about as hardcore as a squirt gun fight in a nursing home. She attempts to vanquish me with her Mighty Swooping Orc Hawk Axe Drumming Working on Railroad Stance, and I retaliate with my Wailing on Orc Until Her Skin Looks Like Activity Book Maze Stance. In layman’s terms, this means we both swing at each other a lot. She hits a bunch of times, but I’ve got enough health at this point that she might as well be hitting me with a moist sponge cake. I miss most of the time, because Cahmel is still better at weaving traditional Dunmer bug-baskets than he is at swinging a shortsword properly. Inevitably, though, my unfair level advantage means she runs out of blood before I do, and I emerge victorious with a mere 15 axe wounds.

Well, that was easy. I really don’t see why I was needed here–frankly, if a couple guards ganged up on this woman, and they could bring themselves to look directly at her, she’d be vanquished in a flash. Then justice would be served, taxpayer dollars (or, since this is a Hlaalu town, the money they steal from other Houses) would be put to good use, and I’d get to do something glamorous instead, like kickbox a dragon or teach a princess the meaning of love. But no, if the outlaw woman buys a house in the middle of town, you’ve got to send some random freelancer to go evict her.

I will say this much, though–for an ex-criminal and a raider, her place is pretty tasteful. Couple stories, good amount storage space, nice use of color. Location’s not bad, either–convenient to the clubs as well as the shops. River view. Nice ventilation.

Hm…

You know, I bet an Argonian Head would look good mounted on that wall over there…

Bethesda, I approve. Whether or not you intended it to be so, you have given me a house. I mean, who’s going to stop me from taking it? Something tells me this woman (?) didn’t produce any heirs to inherit it off of her, and if she did, they can come over and discuss the matter with me personally, especially if they also have a cool house somewhere. As far as I’m concerned, this place is salvage, and there is absolutely nothing I am too proud to scavenge like the grubby little vulture I am.

You know, you kind of have to wonder what Morrowind’s laws are regarding this sort of thing. Killing people and taking their stuff is a national pastime for them–it’s taken for granted that no matter how virtuous a life you lead, no matter how much you avoid conflict, sooner or later you’re going to have to kill somebody and sooner or later that somebody is going to have something worth a few drinks and a jumbo-pak of scrib jerky. The obvious answer is, “if there’s nobody to inherit it, murderers keepers,” but there’s no way you could get away with that sort of thing in the real world. Otherwise, there’d be a lot of cases of, “Uh, yeah, officer, Steve just attacked me for no reason. Had to shoot him twelve times with a shotgun. So…I  call dibs on his flatscreen and box of It’s-Its.” Maybe they just don’t care? Actually, now that I think of all the times Ordinators have watched with detached amusement as assassins kicked me up and down the street, that sounds about right. The only real law in Morrowind is the law of the jungle.

Anyway, so, yeah, Cahmel’s a homeowner now. Yay! I now have a cold bed and set of useless furniture to call my very own, in one particular city! And now that I’ve done this quest and exhausted the initial questline in Balmora, I have to move to an entirely different city until I’m a much higher level!

Party? Yeah, it’s at my house. Bring a case of flin, a hideous seashell helmet, and nothing else.

Next episode: This man must die.

Doubtlessly, the haircut is a contributing factor.