Day 7

You ever have one of those days when you say you'll do something, then you do it and regret it with every ounce of your being? My joints ache, my muscles are sore, my head is pounding, and it took a lot of help from a local healer in order to get my arm looking like an arm again. I told Habasi about my venture, leaving out the snippet about being a spy and instead saying i was doing a favor for somebody, and she told me that I was lucky to escape with my skin. She also told me not to be doing anymore favors.

I went and talked to Caius. Oh, Caius; the more I talk to you the more I realize that you and Habasi are the only sane people on this damned province. He gave me a sensible task as my first orders. He patted me on the shoulder and told me, "Listen, Jai. Down on the other end of town is a man named Hasphat Antabolis. He has some papers for me, and I need you to pick them up. You're my courier, if you will." I was pretty okay with that, and agreed without hesitation. I wandered down to the other side of town and asked around; turns out the guy is the highest ranking member of the Fighters Guild here in Balmora. So, basically, he's the man in charge of a bunch of brutes and brawlers who go around doing all the violent work that I don't want to be a part of. Good for them. If they do it, I don't have to.

So, I go inside and wander around in confusion, asking people where in the hell this person is. Some nord woman with a cold, crazed look in her fiery eyes told me it was none of my damn business. Some other guy tried to sell me some enchanted poisoned shortsword that he said suited me well. I finally came upon a nice, soft-spoken Breton woman (what the hell was she doing here?) and she told me that Hasphat Antabolis stays downstairs, at the very end of a twisting hall, holed up in a training room where he gives classes. So, off I went to find the guy, finally finding him in a heavily padded room that was lined with training dummies. He stood in the middle with a broadsword, giving an introductory course to a couple of rough-and-tumble looking ladies on how to use a long blade. I stayed by the threshold silently, waiting for him to finish. However, his eyes locked on me and he was quick to pause their training.

The ladies seemed a bit perturbed. Hasphat himself seemed very happy to see me, and rushed off the people he was training so he could talk to me alone.

He knew I worked for Caius. Caius told him he would send me. He knew what Caius wanted--some notes on some cults--but with a wag of his finger he told me that I would have to do a favor for him first. So far, my time in Morrowind has been an easy bunch of simple errands and lots of sweet talking. I didn't expect much. He first informed me that what I was doing was illegal.

Big deal. Most of what I do is illegal.

He then informed me that I wanted to be well prepared.

... Okay.

He then said some word I cannot even begin to spell without constantly looking at it. I just know that when I saw his lips move that way, my eyebrows shot up and my eyes got huge. I don't even know how that word is pronounceable. What the bloody hell is it with Morrowind and their unpronounceable everything? I mean, it makes it very hard for me to keep up with conversations. I finally had to tell the fellow I had no idea what he was talking about, so I handed him a scrap piece of paper that was in a pouch along my belt and told him to write it down. I still don't like this word: "Arkngthand." Apparently, it's Dwemer.

Dwemer? What the hell's that, you ask? Well, I know I asked. I was told that the Dwemer were a race of elves who were also known as "dwarves" though they weren't shorter than any other elf. They were technologically advanced and scientifically superior, and some thousands of years ago they ended up going so far with their advancements that they just kind of wiped themselves out of existence. Arkngthand is one of their strongholds. Citadels. Whatever. It's a ruin, up a hill and across a bridge, located behind a fort called Moonmoth that's just down the path from Balmora... outside the city gates. I told him I wasn't good with directions and to write it down. He told me I would be stupid if I couldn't figure out how to get there.

Anyway, he wanted me to bust into this ruin and get a puzzle box. An ancient, Dwemer puzzle box. He says it's the only one of its kind on Vvardenfell--the only surviving one in Morrowind, period--and that he needed it. I asked why he didn't go get it himself, and he gave me some story about how he couldn't leave the guild quarters because he has to coach his fighters and if he could go he would and this, that, and the other. It was a lie, plainly. I soon found out it was a lie when, after three hours of scouting around outside the city gates, I found myself in mortal danger.

I found the fort alright. I got there in about fifteen minutes. Finding a bridge behind it was hard. I found a path leading north behind it in a shallow chasm of earth, and followed it a good ways up the road before stumbling upon a weird, jagged ruin of strange colored rocks that spiraled into the sky. I immediately thought, "Arkngthand?" It wasn't, though. Reading some of the weird symbols I found that it was, of all the things, the ruined shrine of a Daedra Prince. I quickly turned tail and began walking back, but not before a little, fidgeting, midget half-beast came running out. A scamp. It was at that point that I realized I had forgot my bow at The Southwall and had no real way to defend myself aside from my fists and my stealth. Fortunately, the scamp lost interest in me because I was so much quicker than it and put a good deal of distance between us causing it to lose sight of its prey. I arrived back at the fort, exhausted. The guards let me sit around inside the fort walls to rest up. While inside, a blacksmith to the Imperial Legion took pity on me and offered me a discount on her marksmen weapons. I thanked her furiously but sighed when I realized she had no bows.

Only arrows.

And some throwing weapons, but my throwing arm isn't so hot. I mean, I've become quite strong in my right arm courtesy of pulling bowstrings for a few years, but my aim and my distance with thrown weapons leaves much to be desired. Still, it was better than nothing and I didn't complain. I forked over the gold for some steel throwing stars, and a steel tanto since I guess I'm pretty okay with a short blade if I can sneak up on somebody. The woman was also kind enough to tell me that she knew where this ruin was; there's a hill next to the fort that leads up to a bridge that goes over the chasm that I was walking up earlier. I slapped myself on the forehead, thanked her, and trudged off.

Lo and behold, she was right. I found the bridge and breathed a sigh of relief as I casually began to walk across it. I didn't make it too far down the bridge, though. I felt a cold gust of air and looked up, only to see magic glittering in the air... and an animated skeleton jump forward from a burst of light. As it came running at me, I caught a glimpse of who had summoned the damned thing; charging me, on the skeleton's heels, was some old guy who looked a lot like Caius in a hodge-podge of cheap armor. I panicked and screamed. I took off running and tripped down the hill, landing on my face at the foot of it with an armed skeletal minion bearing down on me and spells flying in the air. I did the only thing I could think to do when I saw them racing after me. I ran into the fort walls and grabbed onto a member of the Legion, screaming. The legionnaires responded by turning just in time to see a fireball rushing at us, me trembling like an idiot and climbing atop a stack of shipment crates and watching in terror as the old bandit ran stupidly right into the plain sight of these military men.

He was crazy. He had to be. When the legionnaires turned toward him with swords and spears raised high, the snowy-haired madman just unveiled a shining axe and went to work. Blood was everywhere, the air was suddenly bitter cold. His skeletal summon erupted in a shower of golden sparks as it was destroyed, and the old man lay dead in a matter of moments. I stayed perfectly still as the guards simply casually walked away from the corpse, not even paying any mind to me or the fact that they just killed a man. I was weirded out, and I seriously considered just going back to Balmora and telling Hasphat that he could keep his damned notes because I would rather be in prison that put up with this. However, I ended up slowly climbing down from my perch and continuing my venture.

Arkngthand is huge. Most of it is submerged in dirt and ash from some nearby volcano, but the towers still shoot out of the ground like trees and doorways, gates, roofs, and even an observatory all poke out of the earth and take up about as much space as the entirety of Balmora. Everything is metal and colored copper, gold, or silver. Nothing is rusted and everything looks so odd and inorganic compared to everything else I've seen. These Dwemer had to have had the weirdest taste in architecture I've ever seen. Arkngthand is also confusing. The door was surrounded in a sliding metal bubble; that's the only way I could think to put it. I looked around for an entrance for what seemed like forever, before realizing that the entrance was an entrance and you opened it by pulling a trigger somewhere. I must have scoured exterior walls for an hour before finding some half-broken crank that looked like a bent pipe. I gave it a quick tug and the metal bubble slid open, revealing a much easier to open door that I just pushed ajar. Inside, the entirety of the area was a weird golden brown color, cold and dank from being mostly underground. The walkway leading down was dented and destroyed by falling rocks, with an entire mound of collapsed boulders and wall bits piled up just under my feet as I walked down the strange pathway.

It was huge and roomy. The inside of this place looked like some place you'd find outside, only with doors and halls and an upstairs and downstairs. There was a cavernous corridor to the right, and when I looked down the pathway I saw a room at the end that was empty aside from a small wooden table with an oil lamp sitting upon it. I couldn't see anything beyond that. Just outside of this corridor and down a collapsing, wood-rotted ladder was a huge expanse of rocky earth that was roughly the size of the manor district back in Balmora. The earthy ground soon gave way to a sleek, metallic floor that led to a pair of round, metal doors that were illuminated in dying torchlight. Immediately above it, with the stairs torn out, was another level with a door I could barely see and a few scattered pieces of steel furniture.

And everywhere there were voices. I couldn't hear them, but I could feel the echo. It made my whiskers twitch. I stayed crouched and pressed against the walls as I descended, finally coming upon a bald, dark skinned Redguard man who walked past me with a torch in his hand. I took the chance; I grabbed my newly procured steel tanto and jumped him. The downside to being deaf is that you can't do the whole throat-slit-from-behind-tell-me-what-you-know maneuver. I had to roll him around on his back, pin his arms to his side with my thighs, and hold the tanto against his throat as I hissed, "I'm looking for a puzzle box." He seemed bewildered, responding with a shaken, "You find our base of operations and you want a puzzle?"

Base of operations. Took me a while to realize that Hasphat sent me right into a crew of bandits who ran a smuggling ring and stationed themselves at Arkngthand.

I told him I didn't care what he did since I've been known to work outside the law as well, and repeated that I wanted to know where the puzzle box was. He asked what it was worth, and I told him I didn't know that I was just fetching some artifact for a guy who basically blackmailed me into this. He told me to talk to his boss, Boss Crito. Pleased, I let him loose and walked casually down the path, never thinking that this guy would do anything to hurt me. He didn't chase me. He just sort of stood up and brushed himself off... before calling for help. I never heard it so it took me by surprise when I saw a throng of bandits come from every corridor and corner. I ran, oh boy did I run. You know that pile of rocks and debris I told you about? I scaled that and jumped to the second level with the partially hidden door, tearing it open and running inside. I pressed myself against it almost in tears of terror... only to look up and see some human standing there, bald and stern, with this sinister look on his face. I swallowed hard and uttered a "hello." He responded by whipping out a warhammer (we know my history with those) and charging me.

I ran and dodged and took off in circles, us running around this room with him swinging at me again and again. He cracked me in the shoulder and I hit the ground next to a weird book case of sorts and an opened crate full of illegal artifacts for trade. As I began to climb up, I saw a little box on the bottom shelf and smiled wide. The puzzle box! I grabbed it quickly as I rolled out of the way, kicking my attackers feet from under him as I stood up and darted out the door onto the second level. Unfortunately, the other bandits were still waiting below me. My old attacker would be out of that door in two shakes of a lamb's tail if I didn't make a bee-line for safety. I decided to do my best with the throwing stars I procured, and took my chances at tossing handfuls of them down at my foes. They hit, but it didn't do too much damage. I stared in horror as--bleeding and angry--they began to climb up that pile of debris to get to where I was. I took my chances. I backed up, ran, and leapt out as far as I could...

... Hitting the ground with a CRACK as my ankle and hip gave out. Tired, hurt, and limping I tried to climb the walkway towards the exit. What bandits remained on the lower level unveiled their weapons and began stabbing at me. Daggers tore into my armor, splitting open the chitin cover on my arm. There's nothing more horrifying than making it to an exit with a couple of daggers lodged in your arm and the skin plainly tore to shreds so that you can see the bone. I was crying as I forced the door open, summoning all my strength to take off running away from Arkngthand and across the bridge, down the hill and past the fort, finally losing my strength at Balmora's city gates. That Argonian lady who warned me about the Camonna Tong? She was the one who caught me when I nearly hit the ground at the sign post just under the silt strider port. She helped me into Balmora, where I broke away from her and dragged my sorry self to Hasphat.

I threw the puzzle box at him and tore the daggers out of my arm in front of his very eyes, slinging the bloody artifacts as his feet as he presented the papers for Caius. I ripped them when I yanked them out of his grip, shooting him an evil glare as I limped and hobbled my way all the way to the other side of town. Caius got his papers, but told me he was more worried about me. He offered me his bed but said he had nothing to patch up my wounds.

So I came back to The Southwall. There's an Argonian, Only-He-Stands-There, who is keen on magic. He's a healer, unsanctioned by any mages guild but more than willing to help me with my injuries. I'm no longer bleeding and my bones (he said that I broke my hip and upper arm) are mended, but I'm sore and tired and angry and sick. Habasi gave me some scuttle (a weird food that is almost identical to cheese, but seems to come from a bug) and some bread and a glass of expensive whiskey called flin. She patted me on the back and told me that she'd pay for my room rent for the night and said she wouldn't bother me about any jobs until I felt on top of my game again.

She told me that the Fighters Guild is allied with the Camonna Tong (or rather, they owe a lot of money to the Camonna Tong so they do whatever the Tong asks) and work against the Thieves Guild for that reason. She said I may be a known thief after the incident with the Nerano manor key, and that Hasphat could have known and sent me on that little venture in hopes that I'd die. I dunno; I kind of feel that, even if I was allied with nobody, he still would have done it to me. Not that I appreciate it at all.

Anyway, I've wrote for too long and I need to sleep. The bed is calling, and my body is screaming for rest.

---

Day 8

All work and no play makes Jai a dull cat. After yesterday's adventure, I decided to just wander around and give myself some time to not hurt. I'm still pretty sore, but Only-He-Stands-There said that it could take me upwards of a week to get back to my normal self. He gave me a potion to kill the pain and told me to take it easy. I've been mixing said potion with liquor and sipping on it all afternoon.

I went and spoke to Caius some. He told me that the notes from yesterday were about a couple of cults here on Vvardenfell. Apparently, I have been sent to a province that's just waiting to self destruct. There's a temple here (called The Tribunal Temple, or just Temple) that worships these three Dunmer gods. One of which is named Vivec; Vivec is a poet or something. Sotha-Sil is a mage god, and Almalexia is a warrior as well as the only female. Funny thing is that these people used to be mortal, but became gods somehow. Weird, eh? Caius said they were pretty public until recently, when their foe--a mortal-turned-devil named Dagoth Ur--started rearing his ugly head. Nobody knows what's going on, but a lot of disease-carrying sandstorms called "blight storms" have kicked up, spewing from his volcano lair called "Red Mountain." He said that the storms don't carry sand, but ash from Red Mountain and the ash is laced with some strange disease that has been spreading like wildfire, causing this incurable ailment called Corprus. Corprus warps and twists the minds and bodies of people, basically turning them into grotesque monsters that look like the living dead.

In all of this strife, two cults have risen. One is called the Sixth House Cult. Nobody knows anything about them, at least not much. They know the basics: the cult's made of a bunch of crazies who worship Dagoth Ur and think that Corprus is some blessing from him that makes them stronger. They're violent and prone to attacking and killing colonists as well as native Dunmer. The Emperor is wanting information about them for safety reasons.

The other cult is the Nerevarine Cult. The Nerevarine Cult is comprised of a bunch of native Dunmer nomads (called Ashlanders) who believe that some dead hero will rise again and strike down Dagoth Ur. The hero in question is named Nerevar (that is apparently who the savant at the Council Club was telling me about) and he was the leader of the three Dunmer gods back when they were mortal. Oddly enough, he ended up killed. Nobody knows how, but the Ashlanders think the gods killed him out of greed. They wait for the Incarnate, called the Nerevarine, to come back and strike down Dagoth Ur. Caius said that they don't pose a threat to the Empire, but the Emperor is just as curious about their machinations. I can guess he is paranoid and thinks they will become a threat, or some weird cultist civil war is going to break out and cause big trouble for his newest province.

After hearing these stories, I decided that I would benefit from learning a bit more about Morrowind. What better way to kill time than with a good book and some good stories?

I walked to the Temple here in Balmora and got into an extensive conversation with a priest there about their religion. They're really strict, and really hypocritical. Then again, what religion isn't? They kept saying that necromancy is bad, but raising dead ancestors to protect tombs and warriors was okay. They told me killing was wrong, but killing certain people was justified. They told me daedra worship was frowned upon, but certain Daedra Princes are linked to their gods and are okay to revere. The bad ones are called "The House of Troubles" and the good Daedra Princes are called "The Anticipations." They have so many saints that it made my head spin, but I recognized one as Nerevar. I was like, "Oh, like the Nerevarine?"

And they asked me where I heard that drivel and told me it was heretical and that the Ashlander nomads were godless heathens and they would be persecuted and executed if they persisted with their "whining" over Nerevarines. Apparently there have been a bunch of failed Incarnates in the past few years. I asked if the Temple killed them, and the priest changed the subject.

I did walk away with a few books, since the Temple seems to be quite generous with religious reading material. I got some stuff about pilgrimage spots, some stuff about daedra in relation to the Temple, some sermon that I can't understand that was written by their Archcanon, and this entertaining book of religious children's fables. They're supposed to teach morals, but once I got up here on the roof of the Council Club and started reading I couldn't help but laugh so hard that the two Camonna Tong thugs nearby just looked at me in shock. Tedryn, the fellow who told me how to get the Nerano key, asked me what was so funny. When I explained it to him, he snickered and told me that that the Temple was pathetic.

You see, for a children's book, there's a lot of skull shattering and the boiling alive of innocent animals. They teach good morals, yes, but you'd think that this book was written by a psychopath... when it was apparently written by one of their gods.

---

Day 9

The Camonna Tong, or at least a few of them, aren't so bad. Tedryn and his buddy Dranas are pretty alright. Yesterday I went and spent the evening with them, reading religious books and talking about beliefs. They still smugly talk like they're better than me because I'm an outlander, and they occasionally snap at me, but after being courteous and kind with them they both conceded that I was a pretty okay person to pal around with. Tedryn laughed and told me that I should join House Hlaalu to make up for the fact that I'm in the Thieves Guild. When I asked him to explain himself, he said that House Hlaalu is basically run by the Camonna Tong because one of the councilors of the House is also the head of the Camonna Tong. I was shocked at this revelation, but he told me it was common knowledge and he didn't care who knew. Even if somebody called House Hlaalu out on it, they'd just end up dead.

Dranas enlightened me about the reason for so much racism in Morrowind, too. He told me that Dunmer are proud people, and they know that they're superior. He also said that he's not more racist than resentful of the occupation. Apparently, Morrowind was independent for a long time, then the Empire invaded. For some reason the gods of the Dunmer couldn't drive the Empire off, so they went behind the back of the people and signed something called the Armistice that gave the Empire Morrowind if Morrowind could retain a lot of its rights (including slavery, wow). Dranas thinks the Empire should leave, and resents the Temple for "giving away what it didn't have a right to trade off."

I asked why they tolerated me, and they said I reminded them of a Dunmer. Tedryn told me, "I don't know what it is, but you strike me as somebody who's lived here for a while. And you're a lot more respectable than the rest of you filthy cats."

I guess that's a Camonna Tong way of saying, "You're alright, kid."

Habasi says she can't understand how I get these guys to talk to me, citing that me being in the Thieves Guild should have made us bitter enemies. I will concede that I won't go into the Council Club because most of the people in there give me the stink eye like they're just waiting for me to let my guard down, but Dranas and Tedryn are alright. See? Friends can be found in the most unlikely of places.

I am feeling better and I think I'll start taking jobs from Habasi again tomorrow, granted they aren't too stupidly dangerous.

In the event that they are, Tedryn told me to swing by and he'll teach me how to actually use a tanto. Or even coach me on something he knows a little more about: long blades. I just smiled and thanked him. I may take him up on the offer; as much as I can say I'm a marksman at heart, my disaster at Arkngthand taught me it'd be a good idea to have a back-up plan every once in a while.

---

Day 11

Habasi had me run an errand for her. Apparently, she got ripped off by a smuggler named Ra'Zhid. He's a fellow khajiit, and it kind of shocked me. I know it shouldn't have, but so far in Morrowind I've seen a lot of racial unity... at least with members of any one race. Dunmer seem to stick loyally to Dunmer, other khajiits here in Balmora treat me better than they would a wood elf, and even different humans from different areas--Imperials, Bretons, Redguards, and Nords--seem to cluster together. The only exception are the orcs. The orcs just seem to hate everyone.

She told me I'd have to go to some place called Hla Oad, and was kind enough to mark it on a map for me. How sweet, somebody is finally realizing I have no sense of direction.

She told me that Ra'Zhid was in a small fishing village called Hla Oad, hiding away in some local hang out called Fatleg's Drop Off. The walk was long, I won't lie. It took me from morning to evening to get there, and took me a night of walking to get back. The fortunate part is that the path cuts through a little Imperial mining town called Caldera that's due north from here. It's a friendly little town, cozy and pretty well off due to the wealth they earned from the ebony trade. I stopped for some food at the only pub present on the way. Fried slaughterfish scales in oil and salt are quite tasty, as is the strange rat meat stew that seems to be their specialty. Needless to say, my walk through the chilly, humid West Gash region (what a weird name for a region) and the choking hot Bittercoast region (a swamp with bitter tasting air; the most appropriate name for a region ever) was not made on an empty stomach.

Hla Oad itself isn't much to look at. Outside the city is a pack of strange animal that I thought was hostile though they ended up being quite docile. They're like bipedal lizards, sort of. They're about the size of a wood elf, pudgy and flesh colored with amazingly round, dome-shaped heads and dull, rounded teeth that line a mouth that seems to be in a permanent dumb smile. They have short little arms and powerful hind legs, and these thick tails that wag when you scratch their nose. Their stupid little eyes light up when you click your tongue, and they just waddle over to you with their head down like they're begging you to love them.

I want one.

Once I reached Hla Oad, a man chuckled and told me that they were called guar. Apparently guar are these herd animals that people sometimes raise for their hides, since that skin of theirs makes a good leather. However, he admitted that there's a different kind of leather--netch leather--that's more well liked in these parts. So the guar are mostly raised as beasts of burden. When I expressed my interest in owning one, he laughed aloud and told me I didn't look like the type to need a work animal. Sure, I don't need one. Doesn't mean I don't want one. They're like big, stupid dogs.

Anyway, Hla Oad.

Hla Oad is probably the nastiest place I've been to thusfar. I thought Seyda Neen was bad? Hla Oad is Seyda Neen without any redeeming qualities. The entire place is surrounded by swamp, with tiny collapsing fishing shacks huddled together on slick mud around rotting, wooden piers. Their pseudo-docks lead down to one unsafe looking boat that is driven by a frail looking Dunmer woman with a sunken face and unkempt brown hair who claims to be, of all things, a shipmaster. It smells of rot, salt water, and muck around there. Everything feels slimy and gross. I won't lie; when I got back to Balmora afterwards, I went to Nalcarya (yes, that is how you spell that alchemist's name) and procured a bar of sload soap then went to the river and washed every inch of myself. I don't care if anyone saw, I just wanted that gross feeling to go away.

At Hla Oad, there is a building that's slightly bigger than the others. Apparently, Fatleg's is just a shack that is bigger than the other shacks. Inside was Ra'Zhid, who denied knowing anything about Habasi's shipment and repeatedly told me to go away. I just smiled and told him that if he didn't want to give me his goods, I would take them and I wouldn't care if I got caught. Ra'Zhid seemed to think I was bluffing, but when I pulled a lockpick from my belt and grinned he suddenly tensed. When I cracked open the lock on a chest behind some crates he was leaning on, he began to yell (apparently he was so loud I'm surprised I didn't hear him, haha). I then casually collected the shipment: some Dwemer artifacts. As he lunged for me, I just marched proudly out of the building through the back door and sat the items down next to the building.

Then I walked around to the front with my hands up as the only guard in Hla Oad raced up to me and began to tell me my rights and my options. I asked how he knew I was a thief. He said that he could hear Ra'Zhid shrieking across town. I asked him how he knew it was me. He told me I just had "that look." He informed me what the standard fine for theft was, and that I'd have to return the stolen items. I could either do this, or get locked up in prison. I matter-of-factly purred that I would be more than willing to pay the fine, but I didn't have the stolen goods on me. He asked me where I dumped them off, I asked him how he knew I was the thief again.

He grumbled and set me loose, but warned me to go back to where I came from and not come back. I told him I didn't have a problem with that. When he was out of sight, I slipped back around to the back of Fatleg's, picked up my loot, and started back. After a bath and some food in Balmora, I returned everything to Habasi. She was really impressed and gave me some high quality picks and probes, as well as an armorer's hammer that she said I could use to repair that broken piece of chitin armor that got destroyed during my Arkngthand run. She was also impressed with my ingenuity at getting away from the authorities, and told me she was glad she had found somebody strong enough to send a message to smugglers that we would not be swindled, who was also smart enough to outwit the normally rabid guards.

Tedryn, when I told him about it, laughed and said that I should have went down below Fatleg's and told the rest of the Camonna Tong hello and they may have had a job for me, too. I told him to bite my fuzzy tail because I'm not taking that kind of risk. He conceded that was probably the smartest move, but told me the offer still stood.

Maybe some other time, when I feel I can stomach that nowhere town of sludge. I need sleep now. That was one hell of a walk.