When morning came I was dancing in my underwear.
I was hugging a hist tree singing a song the tree had taught me. “Tiiiiime is on my side. YES IT IS.” The Breton awoke with a start and started singing along until she grabbed her ribs and groaned “Oooow. The astral plane isn’t supposed to hurt.” I kept singing. She righted herself and wander a way from the camp a bit to relieve herself. Then I heard her start wretching. That would probably be me later, I thought. Right now life is good. She went to the stream and cleaned up a bit. I was finishing the song and stumbling over to sit down. The fire was nearly out. I moved to get some wood and tinder and promptly plopped back down. Nope, not happening.
The Breton drug herself,and some firewood to our camp moaning “Cooofffeee”. I sobered up a bit. That’s the sound the Undead make. Our hunters guild mage found a way to trap sound in a jar. He taught us to identify the sound of unnatural threats in the wild to prepare for magical attacks and defense.
“Coffee is your name isn’t it?” I have heard of kahjiit cubs mewling their own names to comfort them selves and call out when separated from their parents.”Coffee is also a beverage. My world would stop with out it.” She started humming and rummaging through her pack. She brought out a plant clipping with green aromatic beans. This is coffee. She brought out a metal can with a tightly sealed lid. When she opened the lid the scent hit my nostrils and I remembered never wanting to smell anything else again. She closed up the lid. I realized I was starting to get sober. My head started to throb,my stomach quivered. Never in my life had I had a hangover like this. “Jose Cuervo can go straight to Oblivion. He is not my friend.” I thought to myself as I laid down on my bed roll. My thoughts wandered to the Kahjiit once more.
A few weeks ago a Kahjiit caravan was frantic. A child went missing close to the market. The Gaurd thinks he wandered off and some misfortune of the marsh befell him. The parents are convinced he was snatched right in the middle of the market. No one saw a thing. The parents are staying at the Old root tavern and will not be moved. Who could blame them? The hunters have been keeping a eye out for any sign of his fate,but the marsh takes what it wants.
She got the fire going. She took a metal flagon looking thing with a long curved spout out of her pack and filled it up with the amazingly clear water that ran through the stream here. It is no wonder we encountered Spriggans. This place was pristine for being so far in the marsh. I was willing to bet Kynareth was with us here. Ranger had not been his vigilant, steadfast self ready for action. He was relaxed and didn’t have a care in the world. My fogged mind had a jarring thought has the Breton charmed or drugged my dog 🐕? I remember the treat she gave him. “Do you have more of those red things you were eating?” I wanted to test one. She handed me a couple. I smelled it,I licked it. It was no more than a sweet treat. I was relieved. Many it was just the energy of this place. I was glad there was no reason to suspect my new friend of mischief. Oh Gods! I ran into the marsh behind rocks and bushes. I hurled and got diarrhea. I had it coming out of both ends. It lasted for what seems like forever. When I recovered I found a clear pool to clean myself up. “Glen-Puncher-of-Mudcrabs.” A sweet voice called to me. It was not the Breton. “Who’s there, Gill-woor is that you.” It was not my comely class mate. “Come to me, my child.” I had reservations about following. This seemed like a set up for a prank. “Parties-his-tail-off, if this is one of your jokes now is not the time.” I took two steps and fell down a hole. Blast it all. I looked towards the only light source. A shrine of Kynareth in an underground cavern. It was clean and had offerings some one had been taking care of the shrine. “My child,” a voice surrounded me filled me within. “I am Kynareth. You will be my hands in this place. The keeper of this shrine is no more. You will give her an honorable burial, and seek retribution for her murder.” All I could think was,am I supposed to do this in my undies? “Hagravens have made a nest close by. The foul creatures are experimenting on trolls The trolls they have created are an abomination. Kill the Gristlebacked fiend who slew my shrine keeper.” “I will do as you bid,my Goddess.” As she departed I saw the main entrance. A few feet outside was the poor woman the Gristleback had mangled. I saw a patch of wild flowers and buried her there. I carved Lywella Rowan Faithful Keeper of the shrine of Kynareth Beloved friend of the wind. As Kynareth instructed me to do. Ranger came bounding up to me with a rabbit he had caught. I patted his head and went back to camp to get dressed.
I told my Breton friend about the incident. “I guess we had better get on that then.”
The Breton looked troubled. “The song you were singing is from my world. I wonder if radio waves can travel through other dimensions.” I was too hungover to ask what radio waves were, and what they had to do with music.”I wonder if your special trees have electromagnetic properties. If you heard songs from my world the tree may have been acting as an antenna and radio receiver. ” She was starting to sound like the mages at their club meetings. They call it the Arcane Studies Society. A.S.S, I started laughing out loud. I wondered why no one noticed when they chose a name. Everyone keeps their distance on the nights when they meet. A.S.S has been known to get too drunk while having a discussion about topics like my Breton friends’ radio waves. The friendly debate has turned into a full blown wizards duel in the street more than once.
The Breton was tending her cooking, talking to herself. It didn’t sound like the dangerous crazy of talk a person who hears voices telling them to do bad things. It was thinking out loud,and telling Ranger he was a pretty dog. She was meandering about like my mother when she gets busy. She poured a cup of hot,dark liquid into a cup and added some milk. She blew on it too cool it down and took a sip. “Aaah, I love you Tim Hortons.” She had a sweetheart, I bet she was missing him terribly.
She brought me a cup of coffee,two small tablets, and began to tell me about the myriad of ways people take their coffee. I couldn’t believe this was the same woman who just went toe to toe with a werewolf. “What are these?” I asked in reference to the two small tablets. “Tylenol, it’s medicine for you headache.” I took them with my coffee. When the coffee went down I felt like a new man. This was the drink of Kings and warriors. To Oblivion with alcohol.
After we finished our breakfast we took inventory of what we had gathered. We got Taproots, Mudcrab chitin, cucumbers (which we argonians had no idea were edible. The things just grew every place and we paid no attention.) Pie pumpkins, wild marsh mellons and a bliss bug.
This was a good haul but it wasn’t winning any prizes. We decided to move camp and ramble on after stocking up on fresh water.
We encountered a few dangers on the way to our next camp. There were minor fights Mudcrabs,tricky river spiders, And Huge boar swamp pig. We were going to eat well tonight. I taught the Breton about Tamriel. She taught me about her county and things from her world. We made camp and settled in before searching for our next exotic creature.
I noticed her backpack was fine leather embossed with a familiar looking rose. “That’s a nice pack,did you make it yourself?” I asked. “No the elderly gentleman with the Scottish accent and his brother argued about what I should put inside. That was before the brother ran off with my sister to put flaming paper bags full of dog poop on doorsteps.”
“Sheograth,as you call him, wanted it to give me practical things I might need, A Flintstone, bottled water, A chocolate covered Panda bear.You know, the essentials for being on an adventure. Sam wanted it to fill up with a never ending supply of booze and drugs. There was a bright flash as they struggled to hold the pack. Sheograth said look at that,we managed to do both.”
I questioned no further I know better than to muck around in the concerns’ of daedric princes.
Ranger got up suddenly and began to sniff the air. He hunched with a low growl. We readied our weapons. Out of the brush a small Kahjiit boy fell and started to crawl towards us.
Damnit. I am writing this entry from my winterhold camp. Benor is with me. He’s started a fight with a snowbear and some horkers.