{"id":2279,"date":"2010-07-17T02:08:25","date_gmt":"2010-07-17T10:08:25","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.chocolatehammer.org\/?p=2279"},"modified":"2026-06-15T17:07:22","modified_gmt":"2026-06-16T01:07:22","slug":"in-a-hostile-country-the-saga-of-cahmel-epilogue-part-1","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.chocolatehammer.org\/?p=2279","title":{"rendered":"In a Hostile Country: The Saga of Cahmel (Epilogue, Part 1)"},"content":{"rendered":"

When we last left our patient, virtuous, gracious, long-suffering hero\u2026 <\/em><\/p>\n

It was six hours after I found the book; that\u2019s fifteen minutes to cut the squealing down to acceptable thresholds, four minutes to decide whether or not to abort my current mission, one minute to consider the ethics of ditching a quest to go pawn a religious text I\u2019d stolen from a woman I\u2019d murdered, two minutes to stop snickering, and then five hours and fifty-three minutes to get back to the nearest place where I could rent a ride going to a place where I could rent a ride to get back to the outskirts of decent civilization. And then I was lounging in the luxurious South Wall Cornerclub, nursing a mug of the least bug-derived beverage in the house and planning my next move.<\/p>\n

I had a real score, that\u2019s for sure. The book I had with me was worth more than everything I\u2019d earned so far put together, all of the drakes I\u2019d scraped up from pinching flatware and dissecting wildlife and leading my friends to their deaths. I\u2019m not counting my profits from working with Hlaalu, but that\u2019s only because my net gain on an average mission was something like negative 50 bones. Point is, this thing I\u2019d just dredged up could make me rich beyond my reasonably wildish dreams.<\/p>\n

The first question was, how do I sell it? That was a difficult question, and one that I immediately discarded in favor of: what am I going to do with the money once I\u2019ve sold it for its full value and instantly fixed all of my problems?<\/p>\n

And really, that was the only important question, whether or not I ever managed to fence this book. My grandmother always said that what a man does with a vast sum of illegitimately-acquired blood money is <\/em>what there are as a person. My decision right now would define everything\u2014what I stood for, what I strived for, and the legacy I intended to leave behind after I went. It was, of course, entirely fitting that I make this decision while steaming drunk.<\/p>\n

Despite a steady stream of drinks consumption, I made little progress. I toyed briefly with the idea of forming my own charity (The Endangered Cliff Racers Fund, with which I would employ a staff working around the clock to ensure these majestic creatures would become endangered as quickly as possible,) but decided that I\u2019d never be able to look myself in the mirror if I squandered this kind of money on the public good. My other idea was to buy a ticket out of this godforsaken country, but I\u2019d never seen a transport that took passengers besides the one going to Solstheim (which promised all of the fun of wandering a feral wasteland mixed with the exotic thrill of freezing to death). Hours dragged on, and every idea I added to the list was scratched off almost instantly.<\/p>\n

Gradually, I realized what the problem was. Up to this point, I\u2019d always had the vague idea that I worked for subsistence. Sure, I was never low on food money and only rarely low on booze money, but I was never more than a couple of really stiff bribes away from being flat broke, and that knowledge meant I was always looking for the next job. It kept me moving in the face of stupid objectives, jerk questgivers, impossible odds, and what may have actually been the worst working conditions outside of an early textile mill. It sucked, but it was what I did for a living, so I did it\u2014I subsided. But now that I had a payout of 50,000 sitting in my backpack, resting snugly between the scrib jerky and the loose animal body parts, subsistence was essentially out of the picture. I was not likely to go hungry anytime soon; with this kind of money, I could hire a full-time team to go hungry for <\/em>me.<\/p>\n

So, now that what I needed was no longer an issue, what did I want?<\/p>\n

That was a damn good question. For one thing, I wanted another drink, which\u2014somewhat unfortunately, as this was so far a very troubling scenario\u2014did not cost 50,000.<\/p>\n

Well\u2026respect, I guess. I\u2019ve always wanted to be respected by my peers. Can money buy respect? I forget how that works. I guess I could go around bribing people, since that seems to be the primary tool of social mobility out here. Then again, all bribing does is raise the other person\u2019s disposition, and I\u2019ve proven conclusively that disposition and respect are not connected. Case in point: most of my employers have been crazy <\/em>about me so far, but from the orders they\u2019ve given me, you\u2019d think I was an untrained slack-jawed intern who needs a winch to pull his pants on in the morning. Also, that I\u2019d performed unspeakable acts on their morning oatmeal. They\u2019re right on both accounts, but that doesn\u2019t make it any less hurtful.<\/p>\n

You know, now that I think of it, what have I done that even would <\/em>engender respect in someone? I\u2019ve spent my time losing fights, dodging obligations, doing people\u2019s grunt work, streaking for business and pleasure, and acting as a companion to the pathetic and a tour guide to the mentally disabled. My career has been a breathtaking journey from embarrassment to embarrassment.<\/p>\n

I thought of my lowest moments. I thought of my weeks of kowtowing to the Hlaalu\u2014and eventually failing out of their order after being given a quest I was unable to complete. I thought of my inability to deal with the Brotherhood despite brazen, repeated attempts on my life. I thought of my rousing, crowd-pleasing defeat at the hands of Gaenor, scrambling down a Mournhold street while Ordinators watched and laughed. I stirred these memories, stewing them in alcohol as fires of humiliation burned in my gut.<\/p>\n

So many indignities, and I had nobody to blame but myself. I had swaggered into all of these situations with the cocksure arrogance of a god; my long history of failure was nothing but the fruits of that hubris. I could see that so clearly now.<\/p>\n

Yes, I knew now what I needed to do. Somehow, I had to use this 50,000 to better myself. Take classes, maybe. Learn how to do something besides fight, because I was never much good at it and I usually only ended up face-down in the dirt. I ought to put down my sword and learn a simple, honest trade, and never strut about the place like I was above an honest day\u2019s work\u2014like I was somehow better <\/em>than the potters and smithies who made up this island\u2019s rich cultural tapestry. Maybe in time I\u2019d learn to stop pretending I was a victim of fate, and maybe then I could spend the rest of my days in quiet, peaceful psyche<\/em>, I\u2019m totally blaming everybody else.<\/em> I\u2019m going to spend the 50,000 learning how to kill them.<\/p>\n

Well, okay, I\u2019m a pragmatist. I can\u2019t kill everybody<\/em> who\u2019s ever reduced me to a human punchline; I\u2019m going to want someone lying around to high-five afterwards. I\u2019m going to need a narrower spectrum of scapegoats.<\/p>\n

This 50,000 is enough to buy a king-hell dose of training and equipment upgrades\u2014I\u2019ve got at least one enchantment I\u2019ve had my eye on. After those are in hand, it\u2019s just a matter of figuring out who I want to bring the hammer down on.<\/p>\n

With much difficulty, I narrow my list of enemies down to the following five.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>

I can't make this thing show up the right size, so just click for the full version, would you kindly.<\/p><\/div>\n

I\u2019m glad I took the time to work through these issues. What better way to celebrate than a shopping spree, followed by premeditated, hot-blooded murder?<\/p>\n

I don\u2019t know about you, but I can\u2019t think of a single damn thing.<\/p>\n

TO BE CONTINUED<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

When we last left our patient, virtuous, gracious, long-suffering hero\u2026 It was six hours after I found the book; that\u2019s fifteen minutes to cut the squealing down to acceptable thresholds, four minutes to decide...<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"ngg_post_thumbnail":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[153,268],"tags":[264,300,151],"class_list":["post-2279","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-lets-play","category-lets-play-morrowind","tag-epilogue","tag-lets-play","tag-morrowind"],"yoast_head":"\nIn a Hostile Country: The Saga of Cahmel (Epilogue, Part 1) -<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/www.chocolatehammer.org\/?p=2279\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta 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