After quenching her thirst at the well, Monilee took a moment to count through her coin purse. It didn't feel like the kennel keeper had stolen any of her money overnight, but she didn't really trust him. Moreover, she wasn't completely sure just how much she'd taken from those bandits on the road. 91 copper septims was the answer. Enough that she could buy a modest breakfast without too much concern, but not enough for much else - probably not even the gate toll to leave the walled part of the city. She needed to find some work and make some money, but first she needed some breakfast. Maybe if the divines were on her side, she'd even be able to achieve both goals at the same time, since the inn by the city gate looked like it might be the kind of place where adventuring sorts find employment.

The Winking Skeever was packed. Evidently it was a favorite breakfast spot for locals and visitors alike. Swallowing her mortification at the state of her clothes (she didn't want to know where the keeper had stored them for them to get this badly stained), Monilee took a moment to negotiate with the barkeeper for his cheapest meal (beef, it turned out) and then enjoyed the bard's song for a few minutes while she put her hunger to rest. On consideration, the song was rather morbid... but that might just be an acknowledgement of reality, considering all she'd seen and heard over the past few days. 

But while she considered the lyrics and chewed her cut of meat, Monilee noticed something else. It was really more of a double-take moment where she saw it once, didn't believe it, and then looked back to check again. Yes, that woman was lounging in her chair naked, but while that was eye-catching it wasn't unheard of. Harlots and devout followers of Dibella alike were known to bare themselves in public, albeit to different ends. No, the issue wasn't her body... it was her face. Her face. She had Monilee's face!

All Monilee could do was stammer. "You! You're an imposter! Why are you pretending to be me?!" Haughtily, the doppelganger explained that she lives to bring low the arrogant and ruin the reputation of heroes. If her temper had been a little less heated at the moment, Monilee might have protested that she was no hero, but the words stoked a fierce anger in her heart. So instead she explained that if her imposter didn't stop, then Monilee was going to make her stop using her fists.

It seemed her doppelganger wasn't expecting that, and her attitude changed immediately. Now she said she thought the two could come to an arrangement. After the night before's experience, that was almost enough to get Monilee's fists swinging right then and there, but she staid herself and remembered the promise she made to herself when she emerged from the kennel. She, Monilee, was going to be in charge from now on. So she didn't wait for the imposter to maker her proposal.

"I could use a pack mule," Monilee said on the spur of the moment, "and you need to do something about your appearance." Yes, she thought, that would do nicely. The damn backpack she found on that bandit didn't fit right anyway. The doppelganger protested for a moment, but a quick reminder of the alternative prompted an unexpected concession. Monilee's imposter suggested that she wear a hood over her head so no one could see her face. This truly was a strange land... but sure enough, her look-alike produced the hood and handed it to Monilee.

A little help tying her doppelganger's hair into a bun and a few light adjustments, and her body double's face was fully hidden. "Alright, follow me," Monilee said, making a mental note that she needed to put some clothes on that woman. She was pretty certain that parading this mad woman around naked wouldn't cause her to feel at all abashed, but it would certainly feel creepy to Monilee. Not that clothes shopping was really in Monilee budget, not yet.

With her hunger momentarily abated and an unexpected companion recruited, Monilee set about the second part of her goal - finding work. Noting a few fliers posted by the bar, she examined them. One announced the coming of Harvest's End festival at the end of the month. Hopefully by then she'd have the luxury to enjoy it a little. The other posting was more directly relevant to Monilee's interests.

Monilee's father had taken a dim view of adventurers. They spent, he explained, almost all their lives in poverty, half starving, crawling through dirt and mud in search of their fortunes. And for every one that retired to a fine manor and strutted through town bedecked in jewels, a hundred died screaming in a ditch, torn apart by beasts or monsters. To say nothing of the quote-unquote adventurers who were really just bandits. But now, taking inventory, Monilee realized that she was already impoverished, half-starving, and ground into the dirt. So she suspected she met the job qualifications. And she refused to believe that she would ever belong to that screaming ninety-nine percent. 

The Dragonborn Gallery was certainly a sight to be hold from outside. While it didn't rival the Blue Palace itself in terms of size, it towered over the other manors in its neighborhood. Clearly, whoever owned this place had ample gold to spare for those willing to feed his habit. (his? probably. Monilee had always associated this kind of hoarding with the coarser sex) 

Ugh, not just a man, but an Altmer at that. Why am I not surprised? But Monilee knew she was being uncharitable. The elf seemed pleasant enough - one of those academic types who spend their lives locked up in a library, but he had ample work to offer and a promise not just of generous payment but also of future opportunities. On the other hand, the work sounded dangerous - recovering treasures from bandit camps. Monilee suddenly hoped that her doppelganger was good in a fight. 

Work secured, Monilee spent a few hours fixing up her equipment while she considered which artifact she should try to recover first. At first she leaned towards a cache of Akaviri relics last seen near Markarth. Not only did she actually know where Markarth was, but it was the home of the largest temple of Dibella in the province, and Monilee would have liked to pay her respects. But it turned out that her doppelganger knew the geography of Skyrim better and after a quick primer on the targets she decided to strike Half-Moon Camp first. Located in an old ruin near the city of Whiterun, it occupied a much less hazardous region and was close to, according to her imposter at least, a more friendly city. 

So, still too light in the purse to stay at the inn and with no desire to ever sleep in the kennels again, Monilee and her doppelganger struck out towards Whiterun and the promise of adventure. The night march might be dangerous, but at least now her halo would serve a worthy purpose in lighting the way...

Test Report - Session 4

This session focused primarily on mod interactions. Ran through a number of social scenarios - tavern, unique NPC interaction, follower recruiting, merchant, sandbox - and observed that Virgin status comments did not appear to be conflicting with any of the other mods loaded such as SLS. So far, so good.