Padishah Mehmet II

IC: (Mathyn Llethri. Narsis Streets) "I might. Swordfighting's something like my department, so I'll look into that particular competition," the Dunmeri nobleman grinned with just a tint of confidence as he strode down the street beside the Bosmer. "You're going to have trouble with that horse of yours in this city. Not a lot of them in Morrowind. So we don't really have stables per se." Mer and men buzzed through the streets, but the buzz, Mathyn had to note, was somewhat unnatural, people skittering through the streets with something of a timid panic. Dunmer were a intuitive people, prone to disaster and, after so many centuries of those, prone to feeling its impending arrival very well. The reconstruction efforts in the vicinity, in particular, were especially hasty and especially concentrated on the city's walls and towers. Although there was no open warfare between the Great Houses, it was distinctly clear that Narsis felt as if it was at siege. "Haven't the slightest how much they know about our troubles in Valenwood, outlander," Mathyn said with a distinctly serious face, "but I don't think many others would see fit to come to Narsis... really, any time this week. The tournament's just a convenient way for the Great Houses to work out their differences without killing each other outright." The Redoran noted that the Bosmer had made just one lapse in his story. Word of the tournament had only gotten out a few hours ago. "Dwemer artifact purveyor" my arse.

Narsis ain't a bad place to start for a factionless Dunmer at this particular point in time. Maybe give Ben's character, Eponine, currently at a cornerclub there, some interaction. -Dovydas

IC: (Mathyn Llethri. Narsis gate) "We shall indeed," the young Redoran grinned, taking his first step into the streets of House Hlaalu's prime city, dominated by something of a feeling of stepping into the lion's den. The cobbled streets, the sunbaked brick houses, the cornerclubs and the towers, they reminded him of the Hlaalu town of Balmora, which he had seen once, long ago, as a child. "So, my outlander friend - what brings you to Narsis?" he asked Aspen, smiling. Some good conversation would do him well to relax from all the politics in the air.

Anguis fully approved, now. -Dovydas

Actually, whoops, I retract that. Anguis should have three weaknesses, not two, as she has two spells and the number of weaknesses you ought to have is the number of spells + 1 Sorry about that -Dovydas

I always thought it was the "foreigners-speaking-English" rule in that you just sound funny. In no game has it ever been mentioned that you're speaking Dunmeris, and most players (of Morrowind) don't RP a character that speakings Dunmeris (especially when there's an odd pun here or there.)False. Go to that one tavern in Pelagiad. The Ashlander there says, explicitly, "you speak Old Elf, yes?" or something to that end, which we can logically assume to be Dunmeris, as the literal translation (Aldmeris) of that term doesn't make sense and I can't see people in Morrowind speaking Altmeris or Bosmeris or bloody Maormeris. What most players RP is none of Bethesda's business. Also, as for "foreigners-speaking-English" as you put it (disregarding the fact that very few non-native speakers of English butcher it as bad as the average American), that's even moreso why the language everyone's speaking doesn't seem like it's Tamrielic. You can logically assume that a person from Cyrodiil would speak Tamrielic perfectly; but you can also assume that a person from Morrowind, who knows Tamrielic well enough, can speak it without his native accent too. And yet still everyone identifies you as an outlander. From your accent. That only makes sense if you don't speak ultra-fluently and yet everyone around you does. Finally, there's the plain fact that it's outright impossible that you could talk to literally everyone in the game without their language being essentially butchered if you only spoke Tamrielic. Some more low-born Dunmer who interact with outlanders less would definitely have a worse understanding of Tamrielic and would probably only know a few phrases. Really, lad, I know you pride yourself on your knowledge of lore, but all the evidence points to you most probably being wrong in this particular case. But that's neither here nor there Anguis approved x1, by the way -Dovydas

As in 'lingua franca', but given that there's no France on Nirn I thought I'd tweak the phrase to be more lore-friendly. Cyrodiilic and Tamrielic are the same thing, and by referring to it thus, Kelh is actually pointing out the same thing you are: that one would expect people to speak it regardless of their culture. Also, not everyone spoke Tamrielic. Dunmeris is the official language and the dominant language of Morrowind, and - fun fact - judging by how everyone in TES3 goes out of their way to point out that you speak with a foreign accent, it's rather implied that it actually dominated there even among outlanders at the expense of Tamrielic even during the existence of the Septim Dynasty, or at least that you speak Dunmeris in the game, not Tamrielic. Just random trivia nobody wants. You're welcome. -Dovydas

IC: (Mathyn Llethri. Narsis gate) "Oh, I'm sure you'll find that their employers aren't really in a position to be picky as to whom they should hire," the young nobleman laughed, shooting the poor guards, entirely confused as to what was going on, a grin. "I'm sure the respectable serjos up at the castle would love to make their subjects speak naught but Cyrodiilic, but you appear to have chanced upon a couple of particularly unintelligent guards. You see, they've been arguing with us here for several minutes now; for some reason they've walled themselves into something of a half-siege. Apparently they only let in dignitaries now. Actually, hold that thought." He turned to look on the guards again, giving them another predatory grin. "You mentioned you only let in the extremely highborn and the merchants. But that's patently false. We've had excessive amounts of our men drinking excessive amounts of shein in there for a day now, seras. Best stop lying and name the price for this shakedown of yours." They seemed to be shocked at first, only to come to their senses, especially business senses, a minute later. "Fifteen septims. Each," said one of them. Mathyn guessed he was the ringleader of this little operation. "Sure, I can give you that," Mathyn said, his grin turning into a frown. "But there's just a slight problem with that." "Such as?" "The moment we're in through the gate, we're going to your commander and letting him know of your little operation. It's nothing personal. Really, it's just justice. And I think even Hlaalu commanders have a sense of justice." "Then we don't---" "If you don't, then you don't," Mathyn shrugged surprisingly absentmindedly. "But, you know. There are a dozen of us here. Armed. You can let us into the city, let us have our party, or you can test our temper. Yes, yes, of course, would trigger war and all, but you know what they say about us Redoran when we have a sword at arm's reach and a temper that's being excessively tested. I mean, let's be honest. I'm only giving you seras a fair warning." Five minutes later, the gate was open. "Here's a bit of advice, traveller," Mathyn said, turning to the Bosmer, while his Redoran comrades poured into the city with now rather mixed annoyance and glee, "Hlaalu have far more business sense than honour. But they also value their lives far, far more than bravery. We've just seen those two principles in practice."

IC: (Mathyn Llethri. Narsis) Not entirely unusual for a noble of House Redoran, Mathyn had a certain fear of the city of Narsis. Rather unusually, however, that fear always seemed to be mixed with some sort of peculiar endearment, as if the young Lord of Cormaris enjoyed and feared the city in equal measure. It was the cosmopolitan, affable feel of the city that roused a particular sort of attraction to the place in the young Dunmer's heart; whereas, of course, the slight alienation and worry that he felt within its walls came as a result of him feeling understandably uncomfortable in a huge, walled area filled with more Hlaalu guardsmen than there were in the rest of the world combined. Which is why since the time of his arrival, with the rest of the Redoran force, at the outskirts of Narsis, he only took opportunities to walk the city's streets with at least two other Redoran. He was not a coward. Just wise. In this particular case, after a messenger arrived, soon followed by the Archmaster himself, at camp with word of a tournament taking place tomorrow, a handful - about a dozen - Redoran nobles, acquaintances and distant kin of Mathyn's, decided that it was an excellent time to go ransack Narsis's cornerclubs and brothels, seeing as the next day they would simply have no such opportunities. Llethri, of course, decided to take this opportunity to walk the town's streets as well; take a swig of sujamma around the corner, and see what the city held for its visitors. Of course, the guards at the gate proved problematic. "What do you mean you won't bloody let us in, you n'wahs?" one of Mathyn's companions growled, his hand slipping downwards to the hilt of his mace. Mathyn sighed slightly; while he shared his friends' irritation, it was certainly unwise to reach for a weapon. "We've seen enough visitors for some time, thanks," the Hlaalu guardsmen responded equally aggressively. "The order's from up there to only let in highborn dignitaries. Not minor noblemen and retainers." "Define 'highborn'," Mathyn interceded, with the most polite fake smile he could conjure up appearing on his face. "I'm the Lord of Cormaris. Is that highborn enough for you?" The guards stared blankly - first, for about two seconds, at each other, then at Mathyn. "I've never even heard of Cormaris," said one, waking a suspicion in Mathyn's heart that this mer may have never even looked at a map, or a book, in his life. "And I don't care. Order was for dignitaries. Messengers, emissaries, the leader of your House and his personal guard, such people, they go. Traders go, too. Everyone else can feel free to lodge a complaint, which by the way is how we at this House tend to say 'stick yourselves up the rear end of Oblivion'---" "A fine morning to you, gentlemen!" The words, said in a thickly accented Cyrodiilic, echoed through the air as the guardsmen were addressed by yet another interloper. Mathyn's suspicions were thus multiplied as the guards seemed confused by the sentence. They glanced once again at each other as the traveller, a Bosmer, harped on in that foreign tongue, scratching their heads and trying to communicate to the new arrival, using increasingly stupid hand gestures, that they spoke not a word of this language. "I don't think they understand you, traveller," Mathyn said in Cyrodiilic, breaking off from his group of Redoran noblemen, knights and retainers, who were gradually settling into an ever more aggressive argument with the guards. "You'll have to excuse them. Must be their first day on the job. Really, I doubt the Hlaalu teach their folk anything, so I'm not surprised they don't speak much but Dunmeris. I'm Mathyn Llethri, of Cormaris."

Delwyn and Kelh approved. Have fun. -Dovydas

Yeah, no worries; abilities like Argonian water breathing are clearly related to their biology and apply to all members of the race, whereas Voice of the Emperor was very much a gameplay, not lore, thing. Also, first approval for Eponine. Friendly reminder: one more to go from one of the other GMs. -Dovydas

Argonian water breathing is only a spell in gaming mechanics. In lore, and this game, it's a natural trait that all Argonians are born with. So yeah, it doesn't count among the spells, don't worry. Although this does not apply to all cases. Dunmer racial skills, for example, in the games are generally very obviously spells, like Skyrim's ring of fire and Morrowind's Ancestor Guardian. So as far as racial traits go, it's a case-by-case basis to see which ones realistically belong to every member of the species and which ones Bethesda just dumped on them in one game or other to give them free bonuses. Also, Artas approved. -Dovydas

GM IC: (Narsis) That morning was, all things considered, a very calm one in a weather-related sense. The skies were clear and a rather encouraging and inexcessive middle-of-Second Seed warmth blasted down on the people of Narsis, allowing them to take comfort in the fact that however this convening of the Grand Council might go, summer had come. The weather had an interesting effect on the population of the city, whose numbers had been artificially inflated to infinity and beyond in the last couple of days by the arrival of the Great House, uh, delegations, as the archmasters and grandmasters and archmagisters of various Houses had opted to call them. In truth, these were small armies. Heck, in the case of House Redoran, there was nothing small about it; they had summoned their finest knights and retainers from the northeast, armed to the teeth, and set up a camp half a mile to the northeast of Narsis, looking more like a besieging army than anything. Similar camps, ringing Narsis, were set up by the Dres and Telvanni; only the Indoril, having no army to spare, set up only a couple of tents just outside the Redoran camp, as out of a blatant mistrust of the Hlaalu Gavas Drin and his retainers dared not sleep within the city walls. So, aye: the weather had an interesting effect on this lot, it did. The Redoran and the Telvanni, in particular, seemed unnerved; such a heat, so early in the year, was unfamiliar to the northern houses, and they understandably felt only marginally more comfortable with it than they did with camping outside a Hlaalu city while their leaders were somewhere within those halls negotiating matters of state, that is, not much at all. The few Indoril didn't mind; it took a good effort to discover something they did mind about these days, aside from internal Temple-related affairs best not discussed with them. As for the Dres, well, heck, they found the weather quite cool today. In their native southern climes, this would have been considered a chill. It has to be pointed out that the heat seemed to keep tensions between the houses to a minimum. "NO, NO, NO!" Well, relatively speaking. Let us momentarily transfer our attention to the interior of the city and gaze upon the location of the Grand Council's recent extremely dysfunctional meetings, an isolated chamber of Narsis's castle protected by a hastily composed mixed guard of the forces of various Great Houses (as the other houses would simply not trust the Hlaalu to ensure their security in any shape or form). What this chamber contained was a simple circular, wooden table, six seats and, in the golden goblets on the table, House Hlaalu's finest wine. The seats were occupied by the leaders of the five Great Houses, with one, empty, reserved for the still-to-be-elected Lord High Councilor. There was Great House Redoran's Archmaster, Falam Ramoran, the raven-haired lord of Blacklight, whose stern expression was said to have unchanged in the three years since his great victory over the Argonians at Silnim Dale. An imposing sight was crafty Grandmaster Gothren Dres of House Dres, publicly the richest man in Morrowind and secretly the richest in the world, his snow-white long hair and goatee clashing vividly with his dark clothing; then there was Grandmaster of House Indoril and Lord Archcanon of the Temple Gavas Drin, ageing and yet fiercely pious in his priest's clothing. The Archmagister of House Telvanni, Aryon of Vos, radiated a distinct desire to leave only matched by a distinct desire to throw a few lightningbolts at the Grandmaster of House Hlaalu, Sanvyn Hlaalu, whose undiplomatic and aggressive manner was truly irritating everyone around him. "You lot aren't here in my halls to demand things of me!" the Hlaalu leader yelled, slamming his fist down on the table. "Since you four have arrived House Hlaalu has been treated with nothing but truly disturbing and unreasonable disrespect. How even dare you demand this of me?" "I don't understand your problem, Hlaalu," Falam Ramoran sighed, piercing him with a particularly unpleasant look. "So far we haven't even gotten to the parts of our demands that you might consider 'unreasonable'. All we ask is that you pull your troops out of Firewatch. It's not your city. Even a blind person can tell you that it's almost as far from your Narsis as it is from Argonia. So why do you continue misplacing a garrison there?" As if expecting support from his house's old ally in some shape or form, Sanvyn took a desperate glance at Gothren, but the Dres leader gave him a gesture that seemed peculiarly like a shrug with the subtext of "eh, tough luck, mate". "Firewatch," Sanvyn began, "as Imperial trust territory, is under the control of House Hlaalu as the Emperor's representatives in Morrowind in the absence of a central Imperial government---" "There is no Emperor, my dear Hlaalu friend," he was bluntly interrupted by Aryon of Vos, whose words sounded as if they were being said, even if politely, through just ever so slightly gritted teeth. "I think all of us here remember fairly well that you've been saying that same stuff about you being the Emperor's representatives in Morrowind by birthright for eleven years now. Well, there's just a few problems with that. The Emperor's still as dead as he was eleven years ago. There's no one on the Ruby Throne, in case the news has still yet to reach Narsis. There is no Emperor, no Empire, no authority to which you can appeal when you fail to answer our question: why do you maintain a garrison in House Telvanni lands?" "The garrison is not ours---" "No, no, you don't get to backtrack, Hlaalu," Falam shook his head. "You said, just a moment ago, that Firewatch is under the control of House Hlaalu. In those precise words. How can it be under the control of House Hlaalu if the garrison is not yours?" "The garrison is that of General Salvius Valerius; House Hlaalu merely shares his allegiance to the ideals and the authority of the Empire. We also share---" "A weapons trade and being one of two things wrong with this country, yes." "How dare you---" "Enough, serjos!" came the remark from Gavas Drin's just ever so slightly creaky voice. "Friends. Lords of the Dunmer people. We sit and bicker, while the people, they remain without guidance, and their very faith is falling into disrepair. We have a responsibility to our people to elect a Lord High Councilor, and to begin to work, truly, for the people of Morrowind." "With all due respect, Lord Archcanon," Gothren Dres thought this opportunity right to speak up for the first time, interrupting both Falam and Sanvyn before they could even speak, "I feel as though the atmosphere in this room is too high to have that vote right now. Might I suggest we take a break? That can be discussed tomorrow evening. After the tourney." "Dres, I've told you a thousand times already: I don't have the finances to hold a tourney," Sanvyn Hlaalu lied. "Especially on such short notice - we're not just going ahead and having a tourney tomorrow!" "I'm afraid you have no choice in the matter, my Hlaalu friend!" Gothren replied, grinning ever so slightly. "See, you won't have to spend a single penny. I rented one of those lovely fields outside of town; my men are already setting up the grounds. Gave the local landlords more money than their land's actually worth to let us do it, but we're gonna have a tourney. And on such short notice, too. Tomorrow morning. You should drop by as well. I know you favour stabbing your friends in the back when they can't see it, but to work out some of that stress in the ring would do you well." The Lord Archcanon, clearly displeased by such a show of decadent faithlessness, snorted. "Is this why you propose delaying matters of state, serjo Dres? For a tourney? A few imitated duels and archery contests?" "Well yes, serjo Drin, that's precisely why." Aryon chortled, while Falam cracked a smile. "I agree with serjo Dres," the Redoran leader nodded. "Not that the tourney takes precedence, of course. I agree that we need to take a while to relax. Let the heat simmer down. In the meantime, let's get word out to our kin about tomorrow's festivities. Azura knows it'll do them good. This meeting is adjourned." "Do you decide when meetings are adjourned, then?" Sanvyn Hlaalu, still angry, growled. "Have you already appointed yourself Lord High Councilor?" For just a moment, Falam stared into Sanvyn's eyes, coldly, piercingly trying to transmit the general gist of what he was thinking through his expression alone. And then he spoke. "This meeting is adjourned," he repeated, frankly, and turned to leave the chamber. As soon as half an hour later, the camps were already buzzing with word of tomorrow's tournament.

Name: Elianne (alias), Manirai Enturnabaelul (real name, known only to her) Age: 43 Appearance: Elianne is of an average-height, curvy build kept in shape by constant exercise. Her skin is a rather dark shade of the typical Dunmer grey, and her reddish Dunmeri eyes seem even more pronounced on her complexion as a result. Her hair is a long mop of deep, deep red that cascades down her back; , she kinda looks like this Gender: Female Race: Dunmer Loyalties/Faction(s): Morag Tong, Ashlander (formerly) Abilities and Skills: Elianne has particularly fast reflexes and is particularly well-skilled with using short weapons, from throwing knives to daggers. Magical Abilities: Power 1: Invisibility Weapons: Typically on her body she always carries at least two daggers, concealed in different locations, usually the soles of her shoes. When wearing her Morag Tong armour, she can also make use of the wristblades installed within it. Equipment: Elianne owns a set of light armour optimised for Morag Tong operatives to wear under their normal clothing. The armour is packed with two extendable wristblades and a face mask to conceal identity when necessary; however, she only uses it in the most dangerous or the most violent of missions, so most of the time her armour remains kept somewhere distant, yet safe. Personality: Although she is quiet and definitely tends /away/ from the 'talkative' side, it is not because of shyness. Elianne's temper is actually relatively short, and she's been known to blow a fuse here and there; the reason why she doesn't talk much, except with those she trusts, is because she doesn't much want to. But if you're looking for a great friend who will never betray you - you won't find any better than her. Weakness(es): Elianne can't handle heat well. For some peculiar reason. And she also comes down with a huge allergy to pollen in spring. Biography: Born in the year 401 of the Third Era, in the Ahemmusa Tribe of the Ashlanders, Elianne's youth was spent in the peaceful plain of the Grazelands, in eastern Vvardenfell not far from the village of Vos. Although her childhood was a relatively happy one, surrounded by her tribe, her parents, and her brother, everything changed in 3E 414, when the ancient ban on trade and settlement in Vvardenfell was revoked, opening the island to Imperial and Great House colonists. The newly-appointed tax officer at Vos, Reman Attius, was a man of a quite legalistic mindset unused to the special status of the Ashlander tribes, and attempted to extract a tax from the Ahemmusa, a tax they refused to pay. When he came back with a troop of legionnaires, the tribe and the troops had an argument and swords were drawn; in the ensuing skirmish, the taxman and his men were driven off, but young Manirai's parents were killed. Her brother, Zairan, left the tribe to seek revenge, and Elianne never saw him again. Now adopted by the clan's wise woman, Sinnammu Mirpal, Manirai showed a talent for herbalism and for the lore of the ancestors, and was groomed to eventually succeed Mirpal in that role. However, as she grew, the girl started growing uneasy with the quiet life of the Ahemmusa. It was in 3E 420 that Manirai's life would essentially change once again: after an unfortunate drunken fling with a Telvanni retainer in Vos that escalated to involve her being framed for the killings of a couple of town guards, she was forced to flee the Grazelands so as to avoid retribution being issued against her tribe. No information of any sort can be garnered about a Manirai Enturnabaelul from that point onward; and Elianne does not talk, even to her closest friends, of how she spent the next six years, aside from vague mentions of wandering the ashlands and studying the ways of the Great Houses. She resurfaced in 3E 426, during the anti-tax uprising in Balmora, now calling herself Elianne, a name of mainstream Dunmer origin. Although she did not participate in the unsuccessful rebellion, somehow she fell in with an underground group associated with a cult of Mephala formed in its aftermath; this movement called for the abolition of Imperial rule over Morrowind, the "driving of the false gods from Resdayn", and the establishment of a theocratic state based around the worship of Mephala. Although Elianne by no means shared the cult's ideals and mostly joined due to a misplaced search for the sort of community she had in her tribe, the cult, despite its rapid disintegration soon after being formed, left her with a sole legacy: during a religious rite, she successfully communed with Mephala, hearing the goddess's voice speak to her and henceforth becoming a committed worshipper of the daedric prince. It was then perhaps unsurprising for Elianne to seek out the Morag Tong, who celebrated murder in that precise goddess's name; she travelled first to Vivec, where she sought out the Tong's hidden base and was admitted into that secretive organization, and then to the mainland, to Mournhold, for training. The skills she'd honed in her years in the ashlands came particularly in hand; but her superiors found it difficult to deal with certain issues, the most important of which was the fact that she could not seem to distance herself from her missions. It wasn't even her frequent self-questioning that was the problem; in the Tong, moral qualms or conflicting loyalties would be resolved pragmatically, by choosing different members for the mission without punishment or prejudice. The problem lied in the fact that Elianne would often let her anger and temper get in the way of a mission; she'd cause especially big problems when dealing with targets whose backgrounds, or previous actions, or behaviour would infuriate her, causing her to make sometimes even critical mistakes. Although this has caused some conflict with her fellow operatives and some stress on mission success, gradually, over the years, Elianne learned to blunt herself, and restrain her anger. Name: Mathyn Llethri Age: 29 Appearance: Tall, lanky and lithe, Mathyn is something of an archetype of a Dunmer male. With a light-ish shade of grey skin and dark black, spiky hair, Mathyn often appears more like a bard than a noble of House Redoran. Gender: Male Race: Dunmer Loyalties/Faction(s): Great House Redoran Abilities and Skills: Mathyn is primarily skilled with two things: the pen and the sword. Although he is by no means the finest swordsman in the land, he can sure leave a nasty fatal blow where it counts; and on the flipside, he is a remarkable diplomat, aided by the fact that he has an overall pretty likable personality and rarely offends people. Magical Abilities: N/A Weapons: Malachite longsword and bow; Mathyn generally favours the longsword, however. Equipment: Mathyn generally wears a set of bonemold armour when in battle or similar circumstances. He also tends to nearly always wear his amulet of Azura; for unclear reasons, as although he does venerate the Goddess of Dawn and Dusk in theory, he does not seem to be a particularly devout worshipper. Personality: Particularly fascinatingly for a Dunmeri lord, Mathyn does not particularly find himself interested in politics quite as much as one might think. Although he has his opinions on many a matter, he does not aspire to find himself on the House Redoran Council, or, Azura forbid, find himself as leader of the House; fittingly for a Redoran, he does value his responsibilities, but perhaps untraditionally, he has a lighthearted outlook on life, likes a good conversation, and does not seek conflict. This does not mean that he particularly avoids standing his ground when necessary; this merely means that he takes a more diplomatic approach to matters than many others, and this is appreciated quite a fair bit by his compatriots in the Great House, who use his diplomatic skills to great effect. Weakness(es): Mathyn isn't particularly tough; he can't take sustained repeated attacks as much as some. Biography: Born in 3E 415 in Cormaris, a small town not far from Blacklight, to Fevyn Llethri, a noble of House Redoran, and his wife Galeri, Mathyn had grown up in a turbulent age to say the least. Although his childhood was relatively comfortable as the son of a Redoran noble, two main events hit him and his family relatively early on and quite traumatically at that: the Kin-Strife of 3E 431 and the Oblivion Crisis. The Kin-Strife was a brief period of civil war in Morrowind during the reign of King Helseth, the Hlaalu viceroy of the Emperor Uriel Septim VII. After the death of the gods Almalexia and Sotha Sil, Helseth was left as the sole true power in most of Morrowind; the Hlaalu were challenged in this, however, by the Redoran and Indoril, who were set against the Hlaalu in a bloody civil war. However, due to House Dres forming an alliance with the Hlaalu and the anti-Helseth coalition's failure to cooperate, House Redoran suffered many crushing defeats. In late 3E 431, Helseth's forces, marching on Blacklight, sacked Cormaris; Mathyn fled the town with his father, but his mother Galeri vanished in the chaos. When the Llethri family returned to Cormaris after the end of the Kin-Strife, all that was found of her was a few personal items left behind in the family manor. It was also around then that his father agreed on a deal with another influential Redoran noble, Nalvyna Retheran, to employ the sixteen-year-old Mathyn as her retainer. It was thus that when the Oblivion Crisis struck, Mathyn, with his guardian Nalvyna, was far away from his old home at Cormaris; Nalvyna's residence was, as then-representative of the Redoran to the king, in Mournhold, which avoided being hit particularly bad by the Crisis. However, Mathyn's father Fevyn was then visiting relatives in Ald'ruhn, which the Daedra hordes tragically sacked; Fevyn Llethri was also among the casualties. The eighteen-year-old Mathyn had thus lost both parents, acquiring the Llethri manor in Cormaris as inheritance; suddenly transforming him from a retainer into a landowner. Coping with the new responsibilities has taken its toll on Mathyn; the young Redoran's rather lighthearted attitude towards life has helped in surprising ways, however. For example, it allowed to establish rather friendly relationships with his servants and newly-found retainers as Lord of Cormaris, especially with his finest advisor, Hetman Lythandas, who was happy, in his role as hetman, to take over most of the more managerial functions of the Llethri manor.

I don't understand why you'd /want/ us to follow video game logic. This is obviously not a video game, thus video game logic cannot apply.-Dovydas The reason I'd /want/ to follow game logic is because it's based on a video game.back in my day, aka roughly the late 2000s, when we wanted video game logic to apply we'd make a video game. want to create a fan video game based on TES? go buy RPG Maker XP and knock yourself out. but my impression was that we want a /TBRPG/, not a videogame, so TBRPG logic has to apply, not video game logic. others have already put this into more eloquent words than me, but asking the logic of one medium to apply in another medium is nonsensical and signifies a basic failure to understand how either medium works. -dovydas

I don't understand why you'd /want/ us to follow video game logic. This is obviously not a video game, thus video game logic cannot apply. -Dovydas

This isn't a computer game. If you want to have a crossbow, have one. -Dovydas

Absolutely agreed on this front, to be honest. -Dovydas

It's less about this RP and more about the actual canon history of Morrowind as a province, mind you.-Dovydas

We talked a bit among the GMs, just now; although I don't advise you to think of this as something formally confirmed, but we're inching towards "if you really want it, and the GMs think you can handle it, we'll bestow vampirism or lycanthropy on you" -Dovydas

That definitely sounds like something close to a win-win solution, methinks. That's actually a great idea, I like that quite a bit. We can move the entirety of the Factions and Locations to that dedicated Lore Post, thus ensuring that people only have to look at it when necessary or when they're interested. -Dovydas

if we don't do one of those i am no longer friends with myself -Dovydas

I agree on the overall length being something people might find difficult to deal with, but, regarding the number of factions and/or locations: that's the point. We don't want players to NECESSARILY sustain a faction or location at all. Those factions exist in the world whether the players play in them or not. Factions are not the driving point of the RPG, they are merely part of the world the RPG takes place in. We don't need or even want players to join all factions and it's not only possible but probable that some factions will not have player members at all. They aren't there to be a gameplay mechanic, they're there to allow the players to embellish their characters further. And as for the locations, forbidding players from playing in some parts of Morrowind is something we just can't do. Yes, that will make the game centered on a few areas, but it also will allow us to branch out freely like never before. Granted, I definitely agree that it's long as , and heh, it really does need to be cut down somehow. And I'm also glad you like it, Eyru. -Dovydas