Upon waking up, I asked the publican of the Cornerclub about Caius Cosades. He directed me to Cosades’ residence – a bit of a shitshack, to be honest. I gave Caius the parcel, and he inducted me straight into the Blades, a vaguely-named-and-therefore-pretentious outfit of secret agents who faff about with spy business all day. Caius is the local Spymaster, and he’s asked that I follow any of his orders and obey his rules, which are as follows:
-Don’t steal from the Blades.
-Don’t kill anyone from the Blades.
-Try not to be a prick.
Before assigning me to any real task, the Spymaster dismissively told me to go out there and become less shit at a fighting. Clearly he has less interest in me as an employee than a concussed mudcrab would have in, oh I don’t know, counting the precise number of semicolons that appear in the collected works of Hardin the Herbalist.
I wandered around Balmora taking a look at all the local businesses for a while, and I overheard someone mention Hla Oad. I decided to go there for no other reason than I haven’t been there before. So, off I went.
Along the way, I met a Dunmer woman who stopped me to ask for my help finding her way somewhere. I agreed to help, and took a considerable detour to the Fields of Kummu before heading back. Nothing of much note happened, but this took the rest of the day and also the next.
Night of 18th Last Seed
I arrived just before the sun went down, and realised that there’s nothing worth seeing in Hla Oad. Don’t even bother going there, really. It’s a shitty collection of shitty huts in a shitty swamp. The only thing of merit in the village is that you can hire a boat to take you the hell out of there. So, a few hours of boating later, I found myself in Gnaar Mok, a village which could be described by taking an existing description of Hla Oad and changing nothing but the latitude.
Oh, also Gnaar Mok seems to have a considerable Thieves’ Guild presence, but I doubt anyone will ever want to deal with them, when there’s already a different mob which has established itself much more firmly in Vvardenfell. I quickly moved on towards Ald’ruhn, and the scenery shifted from lush swamps teeming with life, to burnt rock and no vegetation, save for what had been turned to charcoal years ago. In the transitional area where there was still some trace of life, I met an Argonian, whose name I don’t recall, in need of aid. He had promised to deliver some shirts to a clothier in Ald’ruhn, but had another matter elsewhere which demanded his attention. He entrusted me with completing the delivery to the clothier. The rest of the night was spent walking to Ald’ruhn.