Ugh... what happened?

 

Monilee shook herself again, still only half awakened. Her last recollection had been fleeing from bandits near the border between Skyrim and High Rock. Then a hard impact against her back, falling, the shock of cold water, and then darkness.

 

No, that's not right. There was more. In the in-between time, the blink between consciousness there had been more. Seeings or dreamings she was unsure, but the memories of a stone bridge, of pine trees and lavender teased at her mind. And sorrow, such deep sorrow. Like the sorrowful statue of Lady Mara, looking deep into her soul with lifeless marble eyes. "I was left for dead," Monilee had said, and Mara comforted her not to lose hope.

 

And then Monilee was gasping, coughing up water, scrabbling against rough stone to pull herself to shore. She shivered for a moment, taking in her surroundings. Snow, pine trees, and now she saw, the unmistakable ruins of the long departed dwarves.

 

 

Yes, Monilee was no longer in High Rock. This land, she was all but certain, was Skyrim. Cursed by plague and misrule, long fallen to ruin from heights of glory, this land was a fitting companion for Monilee, for she too had once been amongst the high and exalted. But the ancient Manmer blood flowed too strong in her veins, and as the Thalmor rose in the west and south, so did her family's influence wane. When she announced her intentions to go on pilgrimage to the chapel of Dibella in Anvil, it had been a retreat in both spiritual and very secular terms. And while she had escaped the reach of her family's enemies, Monilee had lacked the benefit of armed guards or carriages. A woman alone on the road, she was an easy target for the bandits.

 

A brisk gust of wind brought her back to Mondus from her reverie, and Monilee finally noticed the gentle, pulsing chime that lilted on the air. Downriver, she quickly saw the source - a sprig of Nirnroot, clearly unbothered by the cold. Plucking it from the ground, she opened her pack. She discarded the pulpy remains of her traveling papers and border pass - long since destroyed by her immersion in the water - but found to her pleasant surprise that the bundle of apples, wrapped up in wax paper, had managed to survive her unplanned river voyage. She also noticed something else - a warm glow just above her head. She reached up, but her hands passed through the golden ring as if it wasn't there. Magic, she surmised, but for good or ill she did not know. 

 

 

Well, she counseled herself, it must be well past mid-day by now. Either I seek shelter in these ruins or I follow the river until I find civilization.

 

Monilee had heard stories about the ruins the dwarves left behind. Filled with shining going and glimmering gems, they were. But also filled with deadly traps and... more devious dangers. Unarmed as she was - get precious heirloom dagger had apparently been taken as toll by the river - she thought better of disturbing the old ruins. Better to follow the river, then, or at least find a vantage point to survey the terrain.

 

Of course, she realized, the bridge. Vantage point first, then river-following. And so she mounted the steps and approached the dwarven bridge, stepping carefully lest the seemingly sound stonework was a trap.

 

 

Rapids as far as the eye could see, and perhaps a waterfall beyond that. No, even if the chill wind wasn't already biting at her, there was no way she was going back into the water. She'd follow the rocky shore until she found settled lands... or at least a safe, dry place to rest. Heading east (she was pretty sure it was east, at least), Monilee took care not to rush, and quickly thanked herself as she caught site of a camp at the foot of a nearby hill. Crouching down behind tall scrub brush she had little doubt about the occupants - savage Reachmen, enemies of all civilized folk. She gave them wide berth, continuing to follow the course of the river as it meandered and dipped through the rocky hills.

 

She then sighted another camp on the far side of the river. Not reachmen this time, perhaps hunters or smugglers. Only two people there that she could see. She might well have approached them to see shelter and a place to rest, but in her current condition Monilee was in no shape to brave the rapids between them and her. She continued her journey, sharply aware of the fading light, when a third landmark greeted her: a statue of Dibella, her patron divine. 

 

 

Was it a sign? Monilee believed that the divines shaped events in the world, but she had never seen proof of it before. Still, even if it was just a coincidence that the river slowed to a gentle, slow-running ford, she wouldn't look askance at fate. Careful to avoid the mudcrabs lazily patrolling the far shore, Monilee crossed the still waters and clambered up over the rocks to reach the marble statue. She laid out her clothes to air dry for a moment and made her respects to the Divine. If Monilee had hoped for an answer, she didn't receive one, but the moment of reflection filled her with peace and rekindled her will to carry on. 

 

 

 

The presence of Reachmen gave her some hint as to where she was, but Monilee still couldn't guess which direction would take her to a settlement. After a moment's consideration, she decided to put her fate in Dibella's hands and set off in the direction the statue was pointed. She retrieved her clothes, placated her empty stomach with one of her apples, and began a careful descent down the rocky outcropping.

 

That was greeted with shouting. "You'll be so much easier to rob when you're dead!" bellowed an exasperated male voice. Looking back, Monilee saw a man descending the hill behind her, sword in hand. More bandits! Is there ever an end to them? With no weapon of her own - if she'd had her dagger, the man would have been dead in three more steps - she had little choice but to run. An arrow thunked into the ground beside her as she reached a sandy shore, and without hesitation Monilee dove into the water. If it was a choice between the rocks at the bottom of a waterfall or the blade of a bandit, she'd take her chances with the rocks. 

 

Soaked and exhausted, she hauled herself onto the far shore what seemed like an eternity later. There was no sign of the bandit and... a camp ahead? She could hear what she thought was the sound of a miner's pick, cautiously began to look for signs of an occupant. 

 

 

Not a miner's camp... a soldiers' camp. Monilee's first instinct was to flee again, but they had already seen her and showed no sign of hostility. Yet they did not bear the arms and armor of the Empire. Mercenaries, perhaps, or one of the warrior factions that claimed Skyrim as their own. Whoever they are, perhaps they could help her - either by giving her a safe place to rest until morning, or at least by helping her set her bearings. The men were Stormcloaks, feirce warriors sworn to the service of the city of Windhelm and pledged to win back Skyrim as a free kingdom from the Empire. Rebels, then, and traitors perhaps, but not bandits. Monilee had seen similar principled rebels in her encounters with the men of Hammerfell, and she felt little fear sharing their campfire. Their quartermaster was happy to trade, as well, though with only four copper septims and a sprig of nirnroot to her name, Monilee could do little to avail herself of his wares.

 

 

Their leader, Kottir Red-Shoal, shared much with Monilee about the state of the province - to say nothing about letting her study his map and finally orient herself. Her mind fed thus, she ate another one of her apples to feed her body and then lay down by the campfire for much needed sleep. Come dawn, she would continue her journey -- north to Solitude, home of a slain high king, seat of a kingdom in revolt, and just maybe the start of a new life for an exiled daughter of High Rock.

 

 

 

Test Report

Mod baseline: https://modwat.ch/u/Bachmanis

MCM configuration attached below

 

Loaded Skyrim and configured MCMs - no issues observed. 

TOYS and SLaVE MCMs left at default settings

SLSO compatibility mode turned on to ensure vanilla orgasm events are transmitted

 

Created a Breton female and used ASLAL "Left for Dead" start

 

Confirmed virgin Halo appeared and functioned as intended

Confirmed Dibella statues spawned in the world (and confirmed with @VirginMarie that they are expected to do nothing at this early stage in the game - used for a quest later)

 

No errors or conflicts observed during this session.

 

Because SLaVE starts after the character begins the main quest, I did not expect much in terms of mod content in this session. However, it proved useful for making sure that general systems were functioning properly and generally setting performance and frame rate expectations.

 

More to come!

 

 

MCM Setup Notes.pdf