aeronwen

13th of Heartfire, 427 3E

Occasionally there are times when I don't feel like recording these entries, but I always do because frankly there are often things that happen that are quite difficult to believe. If I didn't write these events down, I might look back on this time years from now and wonder if I imagined it. If anyone, my descendants for example, ever find this journal and are perplexed at some of the contents, I assure you, the events of today played out exactly as I'm describing them. Vvardenfell can be a weird place, which you have likely experienced for yourselves if our family is still living here many years from now.

So, as I mentioned in last night's entry, Pelagiad's general store was visited by a Breton vampire who was searching for her son. I doubt that Mebestian slept very well following this news, for when I returned to the store this morning he seemed a bit hyper and was making a show of pretending that nothing out of the usual had happened. He did not mention his mother, and I decided that it was best not to bring it up. When I asked him how he was doing, he made a big show of appearing cheerful as he replied, "Look at the smile on my face. Is it not a smile of genuine pleasure?"

Truthfully his forced smile made him look as though he were grinding his teeth down to the gums, but it would have been rude to say so. Instead, I asked as I came further into the store, "So what is on the to-do list this morning?"

With a forced cheerful tone, he said, "There is a small task I'd like you to do for me. The other day I ordered five new shirts to sell here in the shop and now they have finally arrived. Unfortunately they were delivered to the fort instead of here. I need you to go and pick them up."

"Of course." I replied before going back outside. This was a simple enough task, or so I thought. When I entered the main area of the fort a few minutes later, I immediately spied a hideously designed shirt that was neatly folded and lying on the floor next to a delivery notice which said;

5 x Weird Shirts = twenty-five gold (Paid in Advance)

Hope you don't mind me leaving the shirts here, I'm in a bit of a rush. One of the guards agreed to distribute the shirts throughout the fort for me.

- Dougie, the delivery boy.

P.S. It seems a bit odd delivering these shirts to the fort and the Imperial shirts to Mebestian's. Are you sure there hasn't been a mix-up?

With a sigh, I picked up the shirt and then set about trying to locate the other four. As I gradually succeeded in gathering them up, I noticed that the people who worked at the fort were not at all disappointed when I told them that the shirts had been delivered by mistake. In fact they were quite happy to see the strange garments go. Indeed I couldn't blame them. The design was hideous and the quality was poor.

When I returned to the shop, Mebestian exclaimed happily, "Great, you've got all the shirts. My, they do look splendid! Yes, yes..."

As tactfully as I could, I asked, "Mebestian, do you really think people will buy these?"

He answered cheerfully, "Well of course they will, Aeronwen. You're going to help sell them. Yes, the next task I want you to do for me is to take one of those lovely new shirts and walk through Pelagiad wearing it and chatting genially to everyone. Don't be subtle. Just march right up to someone and shout the store slogan."

Before I could stop myself, I blurted out, "You can't be serious!"

Smiling, he replied, "Wear your shirt proudly. And be sure to shout the store slogan, otherwise how will people know that you got it from my store?"

The shirt fit badly and was loose enough to be worn over my regular blouse. I have no idea what else Vvardenfell may have in store for me, but I doubt any future experiences will be as humiliating as having to wear one of the horrible shirts and walk around Pelagiad. It was not at all surprising to me that the town's citizens thought the shirts were just as awful as I did.

The first moment of embarrassment was when Farusea's daughter walked by, looked up at me and commented with a grin, "You look funny!"

"Oh, leave me alone!" I muttered as I stepped away from her and entered the Halfway Tavern.

A female Altmer who was at the bar sipping from a glass of comberry juice, looked at the shirt and said, "Oh you poor thing. Mebestian put you up to that, didn't he?"

Drelasa responded, "Of course he did. We all know by now that Aeronwen has better taste in clothing than this." Turning her gaze toward me, she added as she obviously tried not to laugh, "Well, that shirt is certainly...different."

I sighed and replied, "That's a nice way of putting it."

The female Altmer smiled and said, "I'm Ciralinde. You've probably heard the gossip about me; 'one time wanted criminal, former slave, soon to be the ex-wife of the most grouchy Altmer on the face of Nirn."

As tactfully as I could, I replied, "I have heard your name."

Gesturing across the road toward the armory, Ciralinde stated casually, "Watch yourself if you go over there. Uulernil is even worse than usual, which is saying something."

As I left the Halfway I considered loitering around behind the fort for a little while and only pretend to be going around showing everyone the ghastly shirt, but ended up forcing myself to go to Uulernil's armory. As Ciralinde had cautioned me, the old Altmer was grouchy and the sight of that awful shirt did not improve his mood. Glaring across the counter at me, he snapped, "Fashion? Style? Flair? You have a lot to learn of these things!"

I didn't expect any other sort of reaction from him, having dealt with him before. Of course considering the way that Ciralinde had humilated him, Uulernil probably would have been in a foul mood whether I was in a fancy court gown, commoner's clothing or had wandered into his shop completely naked.

"I wasn't the one who designed it, or even picked it!" I retorted before I could stop myself, then cursed silently over my lack of self-control. Grumbling under my breath, I pulled the shirt off and thankfully did not pull my blouse off as well in the process.

After leaving the armory, I stopped and took a few slow breaths to get control of the annoyance I was feeling. I may have spent my life as a sheltered Princess, but even I know it's never a good idea to snap at one's employer. When I was certain that I could make my tone sound somewhat cheerful, I returned to Mebestian's shop. Before I had time to inform him of the responses the shirt had received, the Breton had dived behind the counter and wailed, "Ahh! There's a skeleton upstairs! It spoke to me! Waaah!"

Turning to the guard, who remained near the counter beside Mebestian, I asked, "Aren't you going to do something?"

The guard replied with a forced determined tone, "I shall stay here with Mebestian and make sure that nothing harms him."

Unbelievable. I stared at the guard incredulously before heading toward the staircase. Armed with nothing more than a small dagger that was fastened to my thin woven leather belt, I said sarcastically, "Don't worry, gentlemen! I'll protect you!"

Leaving Mebestian and the guard to cringe behind the counter, I went upstairs and looked toward the corner of the room. Sure enough, there was a skeleton standing near the window. As I stared at it fearfully and wondered what to do, the skeleton asked as it placed a black silk top-hat on its skull, "What do you think? Is it me?"

Blinking in surprise, I answered, "I...suppose. It matches your...eye-sockets."

Leaning casually against the wall, the skeleton exclaimed, "A lot of people attack me on sight just because I'm a Lich. I'm not a bad guy. I'm actually quite friendlich. Get it? Friendlich? Heh!"

It's a well known fact that a person can see all sorts of unusal things in Morrowind, but that still didn't prepare me for the possibility of meeting a friendly lich who made bad jokes. Still thinking that the lich might be trying to deceive me, I asked, "Don't liches normally wear robes?"

Shaking its skull, the skeleton exclaimed, "I swear you wouldn't believe how many people ask me about that! It's ridiculous! Regular skeletons walk around without wearing so much as a loincloth, but if a lich wants to feel free and wear their birthday suit, then suddenly it's an outrage! It's not as if I've got much anatomy for anyone to worry about anyway. I mean, I'm not exactly exposing anything. There's nothing to be exposed! Now, if I still had my-"

Abruptly cutting him off, I said, "All right, stop! I really don't want to hear about...that."

Becoming a bit more somber, the skeleton continued, "My name is Mebestian Ence. I am the great-great-great- grandfather of the chap downstairs whimpering behind the counter. He may have told you about me? Anyway, I was a very powerful magician. In fact I still am. That's why I'm a lich, and not some dead guy buried in the ground somewhere."

"So?"

He gave a soft sigh before explaining, "Living alone, no one to talk to but skeletons and bonewalkers...it's just not the life for me. Of course, I didn't come to the conclusion until just recently, one night when I was staring at the stars, lost in their beauty and remembering back to when I had friends...a family...So I came looking for any descendants I might have. Lo and behold, I find the guy downstairs, my only living relative, and in great peril, too."

Still not entirely trusting him, I asked, "What 'great peril'?"

Grandfather Ence continued, "Like I said, my great-great-great grandson Mebby is the only living relative I have. My scrying magic found Jernelle, too. Vampires. Hmph. That's why I had to come here and warn him."

Recalling what Mebestian's mother had said the previous evening, I responded, "Because she wants to turn him."

The lich replied, "Exactly! I can't let that happen. I want great-great-great-great grandchildren. Vampires can't conceive children, you know, so if Mebestian becomes a vampire then the family line stops dead. Or undead, as the case may be."

"Have you tried talking to her about it?" I inquired.

The skeleton explained, "I'm not allowed to directly interfere, you see. As an ancient lich, I'm not supposed to interfere. It would just be...un-lich-like. However, I know that she's evil. She hates the living with a vengeance and while she's still around I'll never get any more descendants. That's why you have to kill her. When she arrives here to try and turn Mebestian the younger, you must kill her!"

Blinking with surprise, I suggested, "What if Mebestian just tells her he doesn't want to be a turned?"

He replied, "I thought you might ask that. That's why I prepared a special amulet of disguise. I can't risk him actually getting within striking range of her, so you'll have to wear the amulet and pretend to be him. I still think killing her is the best option, though."

So it was all right for me to come within striking distance. There's nothing like being considered disposable by those around you.

Sighing, I replied, "Well, I'll have to talk this over with Mebestian and see what he wants."

The lich responded with, "You do that. I'll wait up here."

Once I was back downstairs I found Mebestian still cowering behind the counter. Rising to his feet, he asked, "What happened? Did you destroy the skeleton?"

Not bothering to mince words, I informed him flatly, "No. That skeleton is your great, great, great grandfather. He's a lich."

His eyes widened as he replied, "You mean my ancestor, the other Mebestian Ence? Oh my. I just sort of assumed he was dead. One never really considers the fact that their ancestors might be living skeletons kept together solely by powerful magic."

"No, I suppose not," I said quietly.

"So, what did Grandfather Ence want?" he then asked. After I had related the previous conversation to him, Mebestian continued, "He wants you to kill my...vampiric mother? I...I don't know whom to trust anymore."

I replied, "Neither do I. Why don't we see if there is a way for something to be worked out?"

Retreating behind the counter, he nodded and said, "All right then, I'll just trust your judgment on this one. Please sort this matter out as best you see fit."

Staring at Mebestian as he crouched down between a couple of crates, I asked, "Don't you want to go upstairs and talk to them? After all, they're your relatives."

He frantically shook his head and answered, "I wouldn't know what to say. I don't have the gift for words that you seem to have."

And so, I went back upstairs to speak with two undead creatures. Never, during the years that my palace turtors were teaching me the art of speechcraft, did I ever suspect that I would one day need to use that ability to make peace between a vampire and a lich.

When I reached the top of the stairs I noticed that Jernelle was standing in the room. The lich, who was still in the corner, said, "Don't worry. My magic prevents Jernelle from seeing or hearing me. She doesn't know I'm here. Take this amulet. If you insist on trying to talk to her, then you should wear it. She'll think you are Mebestian. Otherwise, just kill her."

Not convinced that it was wise to try to fool a vampire, I didn't bother putting on the amulet as I approached Jernelle. Glaring at me, she demanded, "You again? Where is Mebestian?"

I answered, "He's around somewhere, and is bit overwhelmed, as I'm sure you can understand."

She replied sharply, "I want to see my son. I intend to give him the gift of eternal youth, so he can be with me forever."

My ancestors must have been guiding me, for in spite of my being fearful of the vampire, my tone was calm and soft as I pointed out, "You aren't giving him a choice! No matter how much you have changed, it does not change the fact that Mebestian is the son that you gave birth to, the one that you held in your arms when he was an infant. He was the boy that you watched take his first steps and say his first words. If you still love your son now as you did then, you should let him make up his own mind."

For a moment I feared I had angered her but then her expression softened somewhat as she said, "I guess you make a valid point. I realize I've been acting on my own wants, not his. I didn't even ask him what he wanted. What a fool I am."

Stepping out of the corner, the lich exclaimed in surprise, "You talked her out of it? Well, that does make me feel foolish. Yes, I should have talked things over with Jernelle before I tried to have her killed. If I had skin I would be blushing right now. For all my powerful magic, I couldn't see the one thing that was right in front of my eye sockets...A mother's love for her son."

With the differences between the undead creatures resolved, I went back downstairs to allow them to speak to each other, and to and tell Mebestian what had happened. Obviously surprised, he exclaimed, "You really managed to make peace between my feuding relatives? I didn't think it would be possible...Oh, I feel overwhelmed with emotion!"

He ended that statement by suddenly giving me a hug. Uncomfortable with such displays of affection, I stepped away from him the moment he let me go and said, "Well, I'm glad neither of them had to die...again."

Leaving me to watch the store for the rest of the morning, Mebestian hurried upstairs to join his undead family members. Shaking my head, I went about the usual tasks of neatening and adding new inventory to any empty spaces on the shelves.

In the afternoon when I was normally done for the day, Mebestian came downstairs and said regretfully, "I'm afraid I have some sad news to tell you, Aeronwen. Now that I have family to help me, I won't be needing an assistant anymore. Of course I still have your final payment for you, so you won't be leaving empty-handed."

Once again he gave me the choice of either accepting gold or a piece of enchanted merchandise. And once again I chose to be paid in septims since I am set for weapons. Not at all minding that I had just been let go from my job, I got Rey from the hut, then headed over to Neldor's barn. With the day being warm and sunny, Neldor was seated outside in the garden with his guitar. As Rey and I came down through the front gate, Neldor looked at me and inquired, "So how is Mebestian dealing with the news about his vampire mother?"

Joining him on the walkway, I answered, "Much better now. In fact, learning about his mother probably help him deal with the news about his great grandfather being a lich."

"What?!"

He listened with an incredulous expression as I told him about Mebestian's undead relatives showing up, and that they would all be running the shop together now that the three of them have made peace. When I finished my tale, Neldor exclaimed, "You have got to quit! I'm sorry but I can't sit by while you work in a shop where undead keep showing up!"

Not offended by his insistence, for he was simply very concerned, I assured him, "Today was my last day. Mebstian's mother and great grandfather are going to be helping him run the store from now on, so I'm going back to hunting and painting."

"Good," he replied with a sigh of relief. Seconds later, Neldor exclaimed, "Wait a minute! There is a fully armored Legion guard in the shop! Why didn't he go upstairs to deal with Mebestian's undead visitors?"

I answered with a bit of amusement in my voice, "As the guard explained it to me, his job is to guard the shop, which is downstairs."

Neldor's green eyes widened and he stared at me in amazement for a moment before shaking his head and replying, "This all sounds like a really bad work of fiction. I say bad because no one would ever believe this. So now Mebestian is going to be running his store with his vampire mother and lich great grandfather. I wonder how long it will be before the locals show up with torches and pitchforks to run the three of them out of town."

That could indeed happen when word gets out about the new shop assistants. Oh well, if Mebestian wants to take such chances with the running of his store, that's entirely his business. I'm quite happy to say; I don't work there anymore.