{"id":1585,"date":"2010-01-18T01:57:46","date_gmt":"2010-01-18T09:57:46","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.chocolatehammer.org\/?p=1585"},"modified":"2026-06-15T17:07:23","modified_gmt":"2026-06-16T01:07:23","slug":"in-a-hostile-country-the-saga-of-cahmel-lets-play-morrowind-part-32","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.chocolatehammer.org\/?p=1585","title":{"rendered":"In a Hostile Country: The Saga of Cahmel (Let’s Play Morrowind, Part 32)"},"content":{"rendered":"

When we last left our hero, he\u2019d gotten himself rather explosively ejected from House Hlaalu. Punching my superior in the noggin might not have been the most creative way to quit my job, but hell if it wasn\u2019t satisfying. Ultimately, it was in all of the best traditions of House Hlaalu\u2014illegal, dangerous, ill-advised, and a drain on my finances\u2014save one, which is that it was ultimately in my best interest. Actually, I might just start doing this on a regular basis. Now that I\u2019m unemployed, I figure I should get a hobby, and I don\u2019t have the patience for silstriderspotting.<\/p>\n

Anyway, I find the person who can teleport me to Mournhold, the city where the Dark Brotherhood have their headquarters. I say the word, and bamf\u2014there I am.<\/p>\n

Generally, when transporting someone to a realm of enchantment and wonder, it\u2019s best to hit them immediately with a sight of unimaginable grandeur. Appropriately, my first view of Mournhold is that of a government drone standing in an ugly, ill-lit room.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>

Nothing says High Adventure like brown walls, a distracted man in a dress, and a few flowers.<\/p><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

There\u2019s an Argonian fellow who can teleport me back, as well as a red-shelled guard standing by the door. As soon as I approach him, he says, \u201cMournhold\u2026City of Light, City of Magic!\u201d Uh, okay. Thanks for the\u2026advice? Information? Stock tip? Whatever, get back to guarding this near-empty room.<\/p>\n

I was told to find a guard captain who could help me out, but I decide not to do that just yet. After all, Mournhold\u2019s a pretty big place. Might as well wander around, catch the local color, visit the shops, inevitably solve the petty problems of everyone in a ten-mile radius, maybe get a light lunch. You know, touristy stuff.<\/p>\n

I exit the entry area. The guard outside, upon seeing me, immediately says, \u201cMournhold\u2026City of Light, City of Magic!\u201d Um, thanks, I\u2019ve heard. Are you guys getting kickbacks from the tourist board, or\u2026? Never mind.<\/p>\n

Also standing by the door is a man dressed in splintmail. He introduces himself as a mercenary\u2014basically, he\u2019ll follow me around for 30 days, help me in combat, carry stuff for me, and take a small percentage of the loot. So, let me get this straight, then. You want to follow me around, charge every enemy I see, get stuck on the geometry, run off and get lost (while carrying my stuff), and get in my way at all times\u2026and you want me to pay you for it.<\/p>\n

No.<\/p>\n

(The next hour or so of gameplay consists of a few random incidents. They\u2019re more or less unrelated, so I\u2019ll break them up into chapters.)
\n
\nChapter One: A Boy and His Rat<\/strong><\/p>\n

As I\u2019m wandering through the exotic (and extremely empty) market streets, I happen upon a small-time vendor of rats. He\u2019s got several different varieties, all of which are various flavors of useless. I mean, who wants a small, very weak animal that will get stuck on the geometry and killed very quickly in combat?<\/p>\n

Me, apparently. I buy a pack rat for a hefty sum.<\/p>\n

A pack rat, lukewarm pun aside, is the rodent equivalent of a pack mule. It\u2019s a fuzzy little critter about the size of a cat who has an improbably large pack on his shoulder. He can carry something like 100 pounds, so he\u2019s actually quite useful\u2026provided you don\u2019t lose him and\/or get him killed. To recap, he\u2019s a filthy little pest who\u2019s unsuited for polite company, too fragile to go into the field with you, and ultimately more of a hassle than he\u2019s worth. I name him Crassius Junior.<\/p>\n

It\u2019s worth noting that flaws aside, this little bugger is fast<\/em>. You\u2019ll run full speed ahead, watching him amble behind you, and just when you start to wonder if he\u2019s going to fall behind he breaks into a sprint and close the distance instantaneously. So, it\u2019s actually not terribly easy to lose him. You\u2019d have to do something stupid, like letting him get stuck on the geometry and not noticing and then realizing he had some gear with a decent sell value on his back and that it\u2019s been a half-hour since you last saw him and you don\u2019t want to go back and check but you really ought to sell that pauldron.
\n
\nChapter Two: Everyone\u2019s a Critic<\/strong><\/p>\n

I come across the crowded market square (why, there\u2019s one whole person who might potentially be a customer of some kind!) and find a strange sight: what looks like a permanent stage, surrounded by eager spectators. Except, there\u2019s only one woman on stage, and she\u2019s not doing anything. The onlookers are grumbling, and it\u2019s clear there\u2019s some sort of unexpected holdup. Curious, I head around to the open-air backstage. Jeez, I\u2019d hate to see these people try to change costume.<\/p>\n

The theater director informs me that there\u2019s been a crisis. The main actor has taken ill, and there\u2019s no understudy, so the play is ruined! Unless\u2026say, there, outlander, you look somewhat like the actor in question! Which is relevant, for some reason! Tell you what, why don\u2019t I give you the lines to the play, and then you go onstage when you think you\u2019ve memorized them in their entirety. You will? Oh, thank you so much! Here\u2019s the book. Aaand done already? Wow, outlander, you were only holding the book for five seconds or so, but okay, I trust you. Just give me the book back, thank you. Now, the people are waiting for you. Break a leg!<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>

"My optimism is as genuine as these flowing locks."<\/p><\/div>\n

I step onstage. There\u2019s a guard standing there\u2014he\u2019s not part of the play, he just randomly wandered onstage. The scene begins, and we start exchanging dialogue, trying to ignore the guard as he wanders about and eyeballs my rat. Considering I only had the patience to skim the lines, I start off pretty well, only botching one line, when a member of the audience screams, \u201cDie, actor scum!\u201d and bumrushes the stage with a sword.<\/p>\n

I can\u2019t say this is entirely <\/em>surprising. From a metagame perspective, I hardly expected I\u2019d be running the entirety of the play. From an in-character perspective, come on, it\u2019s not like nobody\u2019s tried to kill me before. This is pretty much another day at the office for everyone\u2019s favorite nefarious naturist.<\/p>\n

The assassin pretty much takes me to the cleaners<\/em>. Often, he\u2019ll hit me so hard I\u2019m knocked prone, and then just hack me apart before I can even get up. It\u2019d help if the guard on the stage actually lifted a finger to help me. He was helpful enough to inform me, as I stumbled past him with fresh wounds oozing hot blood onto the floor, that Mournhold was a City of Light, Magic.<\/p>\n

Eventually, I manage to start a sort of running game where I\u2019m always one step ahead of him, hacking, dodging, bobbing, and weaving. It\u2019s a tough fight, but I emerge victorious.<\/p>\n

Looting time. Let\u2019s see: crappy shirt, crappy pants, crappy shoes, sword that\u2019s worth ten times what I\u2019ve got on me HOLY CRAP<\/em>.<\/p>\n

It is Christmas in Mournhold. This daedric shortsword is worth a frankly embarrassing amount. The hard part would be even finding a merchant I could sell it to without a massive amount of fuss\u2014hell, even with my whole massive liquidation trick, I\u2019d have to shop around before I could find one I\u2019d get a due profit off of.<\/p>\n

Plus, it\u2019s way, way better than any weapon I\u2019ve got. I don\u2019t use shortswords, but\u2026damn. I mean, this is the kind of thing where I might start <\/em>using shortswords just because of this weapon. I might straight-up find a trainer and enroll in Stabbing Things With A Slightly Shorter Sharp Thing Than Usual 101.<\/p>\n

Oh, right. For a second there, I got so wrapped up in my Phat Lewt coma I forgot the whole assassination attempt.<\/em> Let\u2019s go get that sorted out, shall we?<\/p>\n

I head over to the theater dude. His explanation is this:<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, yes, see, our actor isn\u2019t really <\/em>sick. He slept with somebody he shouldn\u2019t have, so we knew there\u2019d be an assassin in the crowd tonight. We figured hey, he\u2019d go for you, then if he managed to kill you we\u2019d be in the clear. I\u2019m sure you understand our situation. As it happens, you managed to kill the assassin, so we think they got the hint. Good job.\u201d<\/p>\n

I\u2019m speechless. He continues:<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, and as far as your compensation goes. Well, I\u2019d love to give you a full salary, but you did <\/em>flub a line. I\u2019m sorry to say that it quite <\/em>ruined the performance. Really, you\u2019re lucky the whole assassination business distracted the audience from your egregious error. Anyway, I\u2019ll go ahead and deduct some money from your salary for that.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u2026<\/p>\n

Let me get this straight.<\/p>\n

First, you give me three seconds to memorize an entire script. Secondly, you put me on stage as live bait for a highly-trained murderer without even warning me about it<\/em>. Thirdly, you dock my pay because I flubbed a line, which is ENTIRELY IRRELEVANT<\/em>.<\/p>\n

It\u2019s only the threat of legal retribution that stops me from beating this man until the jackass <\/em>leaks out of his earholes.<\/p>\n

I storm away, fuming. In the process, I brush past my fellow cast member, who comments, \u201cYou were very brave.\u201d No, god dammit, I wasn\u2019t. I was uninformed<\/em>. Brave would be if I was actually aware <\/em>of the fact that I was being screwed over. Really, though, ypu’d think I’d have developed a sixth sense for that by now.<\/p>\n

Hey, remember that part where I said my days of getting unjustly used by bastards were over? About that.<\/p>\n

Chapter Three: Looking For Love (In Exactly the Wrong Place)<\/strong><\/p>\n

I decide to visit a local pawnshop. The owner\u2019s a bit different than most\u2014our conversation goes something like this.<\/p>\n

\u201cHello, customer. Life sucks. Life sucks almost as much as women<\/em>. Boy, I hate women. Woman aren\u2019t good. I think this for a variety of reasons.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cUh, okay. So\u2026like, what are the…\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI DON\u2019T LIKE YOU ENOUGH TO TALK TO YOU ABOUT THAT.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOkay, okay. Here, have ten bucks.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cRight. As I was saying\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

My eyes glaze over as he launches into this boring story about him and his wife. Eventually, I get fed up and leave.<\/p>\n

Some time later, I meet a woman who has her own story to tell. She never meant to be living in this city, you know. She once had dreams. She wanted to blah blah blah blah oh who are you kidding<\/em>, nobody cares <\/em>about this stupid woman\u2019s problems. Anyway, long story short, she wants a man, and since she\u2019s far too busy standing at the top of this staircase to go looking for eligible bachelors, she wants you to go find them for her.<\/p>\n

I go to the pawnshop.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey, moody blues, I\u2019ve got a date for you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat? No. I hate women. Go away.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, come on, it\u2019ll be fun.\u201d<\/p>\n

*sigh* \u201cAlright. I\u2019ll go on a date with her. But just so you know, and you can quote me on this, women suck.\u201d<\/p>\n

I go back to the woman and let her know I have the hottest of hot dates lined up. She\u2019s skeptical, but is willing to take a risk.<\/p>\n

Three days later, the day of the date comes. The woman nervous, the man apprehensive, they depart for the designated meeting place. One is a gentle romantic, the other a cold and ill-used cynic. The one is in search of the love, the other in search of meaning. Nobody would predict that they would be perfect for each other. Certainly not me, anyway.<\/p>\n

Meanwhile, I\u2019m cleaning the abandoned pawn shop out.<\/p>\n

I steal the flatware. I steal the decorations. I steal the food, the weapons, the money, the ingredients. I steal his clothes, I steal his effects, I steal the folded cloths and scattered cups.\u00a0 I walk out of there with over 200 drakes in merchandise.<\/p>\n

The next day, I see them both. The pawn shop owner claims that the date went horribly, and refused to talk about it. The woman flat-out refuses to speak to me ever again.<\/p>\n

And I\u2019d made a profit. So, a win in every possible respect.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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