Disclaimer: I own nothing but my original characters and works; all other characters and worlds belong to their respective owners. I'm just playing with them.
Betad by Marethyu, Priapus, Beans
The Celestial Farmer
Chapter 08: Companions
– Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon (Ciri) –
"You've been busy," Ciri said in lieu of a greeting, making Jorgen simply chuckle as he put down the bag of animal feed and turned to her. Before Ria could even say anything, she elbowed her friend in the side making Ria wince as her words were cut off.
"Aren't I always? You know I don't do well with free time," Jorgen responded with a simple shrug.
Busy must have been an understatement, because she hadn't been gone that long, and the farm had clearly had some considerable development. There were three buildings she didn't recognise from her last visit, though one looked like some kind of barn or storage building.
She deliberately ignored the giant chicken in the chicken pen, unsurprised that they'd gained some monstrous leader and unwilling to be humiliated in front of her allies.
"You didn't wait long to call for me. Did you miss me that much?" Ciri teased, making him huff and roll his eyes.
"Yeah, the place seemed too jolly without you pouting and sulking, swearing that you'd set off on your adventure tomorrow every night," Jorgen shot back, making her laugh. "Plus, you know I find adventuring annoying. I could have sent Barioth and Nerscylla, but they send the wrong image. I don't need people saying I'm setting my monsters on people, even bandits or crazed mages. I take it you want to stay here while you're working?"
"If you don't mind," Ciri agreed, simply getting a nod and a grunt from him.
"I built a guesthouse since people keep showing up, and your friends can stay there. Your room is still as you left it. Well, tidier, since Sudi hates leaving a mess to fester," Jorgen snorted. She very clearly didn't smile widely at the fact that he called the room she'd stayed in her room. Aela's quiet huff of laughter was probably at something else.
"Is that thing safe?" Aela asked, nodding to the giant chicken.
"Safe? Of course not, it's a giant fucking monster chicken. It is trained, however. All my creatures are, and won't attack unless they are attacked first or someone from the farm is attacked," Jorgen replied easily, making Aela nod in agreement. "They're no threat to anyone who isn't a threat to Chillbloom."
"Then we'd be honoured to accept your hospitality," Aela agrees, relaxing slightly. "We looked into the Fort, and the job shouldn't be overly difficult. I'll be negotiating with the Jarl in the morning, but it's been a long trek from Whiterun."
"Dinner will be in a couple of hours. Feel free to get settled in, the guesthouse is yours for as long as you need it, though there's currently a pilgrim from Whiterun staying there. Any friend of Ciri's is welcome here," Jorgen said simply, giving her a nod before he grabbed the feedbag again. "Ciri, I'll take your chocobo to the stables. This is their food."
"Thanks, Jorgen," Ciri said, keeping things simple to give her friends less to mock her over later, handing Jorgen the reins for her bird.
It came as little surprise that he just got straight back to work, and she was actually mildly surprised that Sudi was happy to see her again. It wasn't that she thought Sudi disliked her, but the young Redguard was still clearly crushing hard on Jorgen and had quickly become the homemaker at Chillbloom. Ciri half expected her to feel threatened that she'd returned.
"So, not your man, right?" Ria asked with a smirk, making Ciri roll her eyes as she examined the guest house. It was smaller than the main house, but she could see why he'd taken the time to build a new one if guests were becoming so regular. Jorgen genuinely impressed her with how fast he could work, because it was fully furnished (with what she recognised as Popo fur and Kelbi hide for a lot of the materials) and was a match for some of the fanciest inns she'd stayed in during her travels. Maybe not the royal courts, but she liked the rustic charm more anyway.
"Not my man," Ciri confirmed, plopping down on the couch with a satisfied groan. The guest house had a smaller version of the runestones he used to warm the farmlands, so Jorgen had clearly been busy innovating more than just fancy roads. It took the place of a fireplace, keeping the building warm but not too hot, while also providing a small glow.
Sudi was happy to show them how to adjust the temperature, needing no magical skill since, in her words, 'Jorgen designed them for the dumbest, most magic-averse Nord man'. His exact words, apparently.
"Then you won't mind me taking him for a night," Aela teased, but she was trying the wrong avenue for that.
"Be my guest," Ciri agreed easily, making Aela pause. She was not a jealous girl, and honestly, the idea of Jorgen and Aela together was hot. If she weren't sure that Aela was only interested in men, she'd have tried to bed Aela herself. She had learnt enough about Aela to know that Aela liked her men large and muscular, and Jorgen was certainly both of those.
In fact, wasn't he looking even more muscular than ever? It was hard to tell in the thick clothes he wore for work, but his muscles looked more impressive than ever and he lifted that bag of feed in one hand like it was weightless.
Maybe it was for the best that Jorgen didn't give a damn about adventuring or anything beyond his work, because she was sure he could become a menace that would make Eredin seem pathetic in comparison if he actually cared to.
Pausing for a moment, she remembered how his muscles felt against her on that final night.
"But you're going to have to share or wait your turn."
That got a laugh from Aela and Ria, but Njada just looked around with a slightly less severe frown than usual. Njada had a chip on her shoulder and was probably the Companion she got along with the worst (despite the beating she gave Vilkas). Njada alternated between being jealous of her skills, claiming it was only her armour and Ingrid that made her dangerous (proven wrong after she beat Njada unarmed and unarmoured), and claiming she wasn't good enough to be a Companion in the first place (that one was becoming increasingly rare as her reputation spoke for itself).
But even Njada's scowl didn't survive their discovery of the hot spring, and Ciri was left wondering if she really liked adventuring that much. She did, unfortunately, but damn was Chillbloom becoming increasingly difficult to leave.
– Jorgen –
Waking up with Ciri stretched over me, clinging to me and drooling on my chest, I briefly chuckle as I escape the limpet. I'm glad she's back, and I certainly won't complain about her deciding she likes my bed better than her own, but she's not the most comfortable bedmate.
She drools, clings to me and kicks the sheets off. It's nearly winter, in Winterhold. I want my damn sheets.
100cp granted, 100cp total.
She also doesn't rise until the sun is high in the sky, while I rise with the sun. I do put the quilt back on her naked body as I slip away, but she's kicked it back off before I'm even out of the room.
I always make breakfast, since Sudi wakes up later than I do. Not that I blame her, she's new to farm life and frankly she's still up an hour or two earlier than Ciri will be. The smell usually brings her out of her slumber, and true to form, before the Mosswine bacon and Quematrice egg (singular due to the sheer size) is finished, Sudi has stumbled downstairs with a yawn and a wave. I don't mention the fact that her nightwear is more revealing than usual, her long brown legs left on display as she takes her seat and mumbles something that could have been a good morning if I were feeling generous.
She's wearing what I believe is one of her older nightgowns, which she's grown out of, making it tighter around the chest, but she's also modified it to barely reach her thighs. She's never openly spoken about her interest in me, but she's not exactly subtle. I didn't want her to rush into anything when she first got here, but as she finds a reason to bend over to get something, her nightgown riding up to fully expose her buttocks, I might have to reconsider. She's young, but she's not naive and she's old enough to make her own decisions. At this point the only thing stopping me from taking her is that she's never actually made a move herself.
Well, that and my seven hundred projects keeping me busy.
"You're going to Winterhold with the Companions today, right?" Sudi asks, making me nod.
"They're going to negotiate with Korir, but he wants me there for it since this was my idea, and I'll be the one repairing the fort when it is clear," I explain. I know I'm keeping Jarl Skald waiting at this point, but it is half because I'm too busy to deal with him and half because I just don't want to deal with him. I'll need to go to Dawnstar soon, but my work takes priority over his fanaticism for the Stormcloaks.
"I'll make sure all the pens are refilled, then," Sudi promises, and I smile at her in thanks. It's hard to tell when she's blushing, given her darker skin, but it's still noticeable if you're watching for it. "The Kelbi are being moved to their new enclosure soon, right?"
"Yeah. It's almost finished, I just need to inspect it and make sure the golems made it to specifications," I agree. "I'll do the last checks this evening, and we can do the move tomorrow."
The Kelbi like to roam, and their current pen is a little too small for them to be happy. The new enclosure will have more room for them to wander, as well as some naturally growing herbs and snowberry bushes for them to eat.
As we eat, we chat about some upcoming farm affairs but the biggest is the fishery and small port I plan to make in my new land. Korir gave me the deed as we agreed, and I've begun working on the roads in and around Winterhold itself. The advantage to Winterhold being so damn quiet is that I can replace the roads during the day without inconveniencing too many people.
Korir also bought a warming runestone for the Longhouse. I think it was both a test for himself to see if he could tolerate magic when it was helping his family, and a show of faith. Like I said, the man is not unreasonable, just bitter. Fortunately, we both want to see Winterhold restored to relevance, and I have the means to do so.
Aela herself joins us midway through breakfast, rising as early as I do. Earlier, since apparently she already finished some early morning training. The Companions are said to be some of the best warriors in Skyrim, and I can only imagine the work that goes into that. Any of my guests are welcome at my dinner table, and I always have an excess of food.
Sudi does bring up an important point. As my projects continue growing, Chillbloom expanding, I'm going to need more people. Golems are very useful, make no mistake, I couldn't do a fraction of the work I'm doing now without them, but they can't do everything. They excel at tedious but low-skilled work.
While setting up a fishery at the shore won't be that complicated once I work out the right temperature and how to adapt my runestones for the water, I can't have golems sailing. That's just asking for trouble. If I go through with my growing plans to make a small dock for shipping goods, I'll need to look into hiring a crew to sail it.
But that's for the future. The golems are laying the foundations because building on the shore isn't quite as simple as building further inland. Winterhold has plenty of unemployed people, but few who have the skills for sailing, why would they? Aside from a few fishermen, nobody sails from Winterhold. Still…
Bah, problems for the future. I have the septims to hire staff when needed, and even a small port will open up possibilities. Solitude, Windhelm and Dawnstar are the port cities in Skyrim. Windhelm is Ulfric's hold, Dawnstar is Skald's, and Solitude is the heart of the Empire in Skyrim. There's no such thing as a neutral port, so anywhere you go, you're going to have to deal with the politics of that city and also the East Empire Trading Company if you go to Solitude.
I've been doing some reading since taking over the farm. Okay, fine. I asked Ranni to help. If I'm going to make Chillbloom into such a force, I'll have to deal with the factions eventually, and this is stuff I'll need to know even if Chillbloom has never sent goods by ship before.
Basically, if I want to go beyond the borders of Skyrim as my products become more plentiful, right now I'd be stuck either going down to Bruma, basically begging for bandits to attack on the long journey, or alternatively, work with one of the port cities. But, with a war on, whoever I go to is going to try and pull me into their bullshit.
If I want to use Dawnstar, I need to deal with Ulfric's most fervent supporter, who has massively weakened his own city and left it undermanned and underdefended to give Ulfric more men. If I want to use Windhelm, I have to deal with Ulfric personally, and I don't want that. I have no doubt the would-be High King is smarter than Skald, and he'll be far more difficult to brush off. If I want to go to Solitude? Same problem, but it would be the High Queen or General Tullius, and then the East Empire Company, who are known for trying to get as many monopolies as they can get. If I'm making products that can't be found elsewhere, they're going to try to tie me to them and they're also a major threat if I tell them to fuck off.
Essentially, I have no way to ship my goods by sea without getting tied up in a mountain of bullshit. So, why not just make my own port? It'd only need to be small enough for my own ships, and I doubt Korir is going to complain about Winterhold regaining a naval presence if it comes to that.
The ice is a problem further out, but I've got a few ideas about that. If nothing else, it'd be really fun to build my own ship. Since I gained [Artificer], I've felt a damn-near itch to work on new, bigger projects all the time. It's almost as good as sex. With everything I've learnt, I think I could make something truly amazing if I had a proper port to work from.
Of course, the second I do, the Stormcloaks and Imperials are going to be breathing down my neck because that would make the port into a true strategic asset. Ranni was very blunt about that, but I already knew that much. The more I build up Chillbloom, the more tempting a prize it becomes.
Windhelm really isn't that far, and Winterhold is technically supporting Ulfric. The only reason he hasn't come around asking for more support is because he knows better than to bother the College and because the Stormcloaks don't think Winterhold has anything worth asking for. When that changes? I doubt the current apathy toward Winterhold will remain the same.
The war affects the entirety of Skyrim, and it's only a matter of time until it reaches Winterhold, and my farm, in full force. I know I'm hastening that along, but I won't let fear paralyse me. The biggest advantage we have at the moment is the season. Nobody wants to war in northern Skyrim during the winter. There'll be few major battles this far north because the cold would take more men than steel. But spring?
Spring is a good season for war.
Shaking off the dark thoughts, I talk with Aela about Whiterun and what being a Companion is like. When I didn't have hair on my chest or chin, I wanted to be a Companion, every young boy in Skyrim does at some point, but it was never to be. That life isn't for me, far too hectic and unpredictable. Doesn't mean I don't like hearing her stories, though.
– Later –
I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. In the end, I've only got myself to blame for this.
"That's your price?" Korir asks, a frown on his face as he glances at me. Aela simply nods, arms crossed and her casual expression faded for a more serious one now that we're talking business. Ciri isn't even involved in this, since she's new blood.
"It is. Two bags of holding, and two Chocobos, and the Companions will clear out Fort Kastav," Aela offers, making Korir frown again. He doesn't know the price of either of those things.
"The Bags of Holding take fairly expensive materials to make, but I can supply them. The Chocobos are another matter. I only have so many and they're only just starting to breed," I reply after a moment. Ciri wasn't just good advertising, she was too damn good.
"You'd be asking for too much if you asked for two horses and two fine, non-magical, bags, Companion," Korir points out, well aware of how much she's asking for.
"I scouted out the Fort. There are well over two dozen necromancers and conjurers currently within. Not mentioning their undead or summons," Aela retorts. "I'll admit, I don't know the price of either of the two things, but that's the price for risking my shield sisters in clearing the place."
"I said I'd pay them, but frankly, I don't know if I could afford that, or what they're worth to begin with," Korir finally admits, looking to me for my opinion. After a moment, I nod.
"It could work, on the condition that you take a pair of males. Ciri's is female, but I can't afford to give away any more girls so early. I'll loan them to the Companions for one year," I say, making Aela pause before she nods. "The Bags I can do. I have the parts left over from making Ciri's. Jarl Korir, I'll foot the bill in exchange for the rights to Alftand. It's in Winterhold, and frankly, I've already started looting the place after Ciri and I cleared it, but dwemer ruins are always questionable when it comes to ownership."
"Alftand? You must be mad, but then I already knew that," Korir jokes, even as he frowns thoughtfully. "Aye, you can have the place. I wouldn't send my men into there even if I wanted to plunder a dwemer ruin filled with traps, their metal guardians and falmer. Place has been picked over countless times anyway."
I see a moment of realisation on Aela's face, and realise she knows about Blackreach, my true prize. Still, she schools it almost immediately as we iron out the details. Again, he loses nothing but something he was never going to use, while I gain something invaluable.
I've just bought the largest piece of land in Skyrim for two bags and two overgrown chickens.
Feat Achieved: Become the legal owner of Blackreach, 200cp granted. 300cp total.
[Wellspring] - 200cp, 100cp remaining
Source: MtG - Shandalar
The natural world is a world of untamed competition, of wild power, and perhaps more than any other: a world of life. Green mages know this principle well, and now you too have mastered the ebb and flow of vitality. Your efforts at mending wounds through regeneration or infusions of raw life force are vastly easier and more effective, and you have even learned how to bring forth new life and awareness from the world around you, such as transforming soil into mighty elementals or animating entire forests into armies of bark and wood.
At this point, I'm used to influxes of knowledge and power, but it's still a little disorienting. Green magic, huh? I'll need to talk to Ranni about this, but something tells me this will be very useful for the farm.
I wonder… I have all the Chi from my [Iron Fist] and no real use for it. I wonder if I could use this living energy to empower my Green Magic? Well, I know what I'm doing when I get home.
[Primarch Mentality] - Free, 100cp remaining
Source: Horus Heresy: The Primarchs
Your mind is every bit as honed as your body. Your towering intellect would be considered genius among the greatest of men, though naturally inferior to the Emperor Himself. At the least, you have perfect eidetic memory (though there are ways to make you forget) and can memorise vast quantities of information far faster than any living human has or ever will. Furthermore, all Primarchs seem remarkably resistant to Chaos corruption and possession; short of directly clutching a Daemon weapon, being wounded by a specific weapon meant to corrupt you personally, or willingly letting the power of Chaos into you, you do not fear the gradual insanity and corruption into darkness lesser men might face. A Primarch naturally has the kind of towering willpower to resist Chaos in general; even the Ruinous Powers must put some serious effort and elaborate plans into luring one over to their side.
The fuck is a Primarch? The fuck is Chaos? Eh, whatever. Being smarter is never going to be a bad thing. At the end of the day, this is just going to make my tinkering even easier, as well as the logistics of my growing trade. Already I can see… inefficiencies I can iron out.
[Gem Mine] - 100cp, 0cp remaining
Source: Valkyrie Crusade
A few shiny gems can go a long way. These basic mines are chock-full of gems and crystals just waiting to be harvested. Some of the gems mined might even be slightly magical, having been infused with magic from the atmosphere. These mines will replenish each month.
And into the Blackreach you go, Gem Mine. Time to make a dozen more golems to ensure that I get the full yield out of it each month. Septims shouldn't be a problem any time soon, but this is something I'm going to have to keep under very careful wraps. A magical mine that refills with gems and crystals is the kind of thing wars are fought over.
Suddenly, I'm thankful for [Primarch Mentality] because I don't think I'd have been quite as subtle about it otherwise.
In the end, the contract is arranged and my latest deed falls into my hands. Aela doesn't waste time, heading straight for the fort as I wish them luck. A part of me thinks I should go with them, but after a moment I shake my head and focus on my work.
They're all strong warriors; they don't need a farmer worrying over them. I've equipped Ciri well, and I can't just give away my armour and weapons to people I barely know. The moment I actually get into the weapons trade, my peaceful days come to a swift end.
And I don't have time for that. I've got roads to pave and a farm to run.
– Danica Pure-Spring –
As Jorgen returned, she felt herself barely strangle a gasp at the way he radiated the same natural energy that she could feel from the Weirwood trees. Now, it was coming from him directly, a soothing presence that made the very land around him react.
She could barely feel it, but with each step, he saturated that blessing into the land itself. In truth, it shamed her to know that he was so much more attuned than her to the Goddess she had dedicated her entire life to serving, and it made her wonder what she was doing wrong.
In true Jorgen fashion, he barely returned to the house long enough to change clothes before heading out, something about the Kelbi being relocated. She followed, explaining that she wanted to see him work, and Jorgen simply shrugged and went about his day without a care.
He made no attempt to hide what he was doing as the sensation expanded and pulsed from his immobile form in the centre of the pen. The grass grew rapidly, far more lush than any plant life this far north had any right to be. The Kelbi were guided in by Sudi, lured by their favourite food and rapidly distracted by their new enclosure as Jorgen calmly meditated in the centre. She could feel the blessing of Kynareth spreading out from him and becoming a part of the entire enclosure.
Jorgen rose, closing the enclosure as he watched the Kelbi frolic for a short while, chatting with Sudi about how this new enclosure would change Kelbi care. Then, he moved onto the fields and repeated the entire process again, spreading his blessing to the already abundant fields, the crops growing larger as the land became increasingly fertile. All her training, and for what? Jorgen was, by his own admission, only a casual follower of the Nine; he paid them their respects but didn't have time for devotion. So why did Kynareth adore him so?
And yet, was this not worship? He worked the lands every day, caring for both plant and animal, and how could she call him anything but devoted to this life he had chosen?
She didn't know if he was truly blessed by all the Nine, as Keeper Carcette believed, but she could not deny that the power of Kynareth was clearly with him. This was a blessing on a scale she'd never heard of, not even from the stories of the Knights of the Nine.
"Something the matter, Danica?" Jorgen asked, noticing her expression as she shook herself out of it.
"Can you teach me?" Danica asked, putting her ego aside. She had been on this path for many years, and yet could she truly say she knew anything? Chillbloom existed to humble those who thought they knew all, and she felt like an acolyte all over again.
Jorgen paused, and for a moment, she believed he'd refuse and hoard his secrets.
"I rise with the sun. Can you get up that early?" Jorgen asked simply, making her let out a laugh.
"Before I arrived here, probably not. After spending each night in the hot spring, I believe I can," Danica admitted.
"Then I can. I think. Never tried to teach before, but you're attuned to the green as well, so you should be able to do what I do. Still, don't you need to get back to Whiterun?" Jorgen asked, making her pause.
"My duty to the city is second to my duty to the Gods. They can survive without me," Danica said, a hint of guilt stabbing into her chest. With the war, there was more need for healing than ever, and she was the best in Whiterun. Jorgen simply paused before nodding.
"Be up when I make my rounds tomorrow. I only have so many hours in the day," Jorgen ordered, and she simply nodded in response. It was already late, so she said her goodbyes. She still had no idea what made Jorgen so special, but his power could not be denied. If she truly wanted to bring herself closer to her Goddess, then her place was with him, learning at his feet.
– Kynareth/Kyne –
She had no idea what made Jorgen so special.
It was an amusing feeling, to be divine and yet so blind. His powers came from a source that was beyond her sight, beyond Mundus. And yet, not knowing did not mean it could not be used. Her power, limited on the mortal plane, had reacted when he first planted those trees. As he had, she'd gained more power, more influence, around the lands of Chillbloom.
She did nothing with it, of course. Jorgen himself had ascended himself, in a small way. He had become a part of the land itself, effectively an Ehlnofey or Earthbones. His farm was his domain, and his very soul was bound to it. She would not intrude in another's domain.
Not least of which because it would draw the eye of all her kin, Aedra and Daedra alike, if she were to openly begin to act on the mortal plane. She knew Zenithar was also watching the events of Chillbloom very carefully, and she sought to shield Chillbloom from wandering eyes. That was until Jorgen had unknowingly welcomed a problem into his domain. Aela was not malicious; she meant no harm to Chillbloom, but the one grasping her soul was not so innocent. Hircine may be the least problematic of the Daedric Princes, but that did not make him harmless.
And if Hircine knew, the others would soon learn. She should assume that Mora already did. His tendrils seemed to reach everywhere. Divine eyes were turning to Jorgen, and she found this distasteful.
At the risk of sounding petty and childish, two things that no God would ever be, of course, she'd seen him first. She liked Chillbloom, and she did not want to see it engulfed in a divine tug of war.
Or maybe she just didn't want to share her new trees.
As Danica wondered whether she was doing the right thing, Kynareth sent down a feeling of soothing to her devoted priestess. If Danica prayed at the Weirwoods, Kynareth could even speak to her, but for now, she had silenced her tongue. Very little good came from mortals hearing the voices of the Gods. Danica, for all her faith, was not prepared for such an oracle. She had her own struggles, and Kynareth did not wish to add to them.
For now, she'd do what she could to delay the inevitable. She felt no guilt over inconveniencing Hircine. How many wondrous species had gone extinct because he'd called a hunt for them? She already knew he'd be salivating to send his hunters after Barioth, Quematrice and Nerscylla. Each of them, a predator, each of them prey if he had his way.
She'd never thought she'd be thankful for Alduin's return, but the brat of a dragon was a good distraction, sending waves through the mortal and divine realms alike. She hadn't seen the world so alive since the time of the Oblivion Crisis.
As she planned, a truly absurd thought occurred to her. The Hero of Kvatch had led the Knights of the Nine, a Crusader in their name. That Hero had gone on to become the Madgod herself, but… her oaths had been 'until death', and Sheogorath hadn't died.
It was madness to think that Sheogorath would still respect the oaths she'd made as a mortal, but… madness was her speciality.
— Bonus Scene — Brelyna Maryon
The College had a new… student? Or was she a professor? In truth, even the other Professors didn't seem entirely sure, but what they knew was that Ancano had vanished and now a strange living doll had taken his place.
And yet, Lady Ranni was more likeable despite being made of cold unliving material. What Ranni was made of, why she was here, how she'd put her soul into this four-armed doll. This was the talk of the College of late. In truth, as a mage of the House Telvanni, she had just shrugged and assumed that a very powerful mage had done something bizarre and inexplicable again. The stories she'd heard made Ranni a four on the impossible scale.
Each of the Great Houses of Morrowind had a dozen mages who had done something weirder. Maybe that was why Arch-Mage Aren was so willing to just shrug off her weirdness and welcome her into the College. Mirabelle seemed far more worried, given that she actually ran things while Aren focused on his experiments, but frankly, Ranni had rapidly proven that she was likely stronger than everyone else and confronting her wasn't something anyone was willing to do directly. Well, except J'zargo who had challenged her to a duel. It went about as well as expected.
She wondered how long it would take for him not to run out of the library when Ranni arrived. Last time she'd seen them in the same room, J'zargo was hiding under a desk, hoping she hadn't seen him. She had. She just didn't care.
But while the rest of the College wondered who and what Lady Ranni was, Brelyna's thoughts were elsewhere. She'd heard a little about Chillbloom, specifically in history books detailing the College's past and Winterhold before it had fallen to pieces, but she'd not given it much thought… and yet, right now there was a Nord of questionable magical training growing a seemingly endless supply of food in a piece of land that should be nothing more than a frozen, lifeless wasteland.
Even the College had bought his goods from the general trader, leading to the quality of the food taking a sharp increase. That wasn't even mentioning the way the vegetables had magic infused in them, enabling much easier spellcasting after consumption.
But that, as interesting as it was, wasn't her focus. Someone was growing food where it should be nearly impossible.
Morrowind had never recovered from the Red Mountain's eruption, and she'd heard people say that settling the ash-covered land was 'practically impossible' and most people who brought up farming would be laughed at. And yet, one only needed to look at the road to see the advancements Jorgen was making.
Could Jorgen, or more importantly, she, learn to resettle the vast amounts of lost territory in Morrowind? If she could bring back such a technique, it would guarantee House Telvanni's dominance over the entire region and her own rise to power.
Any Dunmer who could restore her homeland would be hailed as a hero on a level that would make even Saint Jiub seem irrelevant. People said it was impossible, but Chillbloom seemed to do the impossible every single day.
And so…
"Lady Ranni, do you mind if I join you?" Brelyna asked, making the blue-skinned doll look up, her massive, fluffy hat lifting just enough to show her lower face, a veritable mountain of books around her as she sat in her little section of the Arcanaeum.
"Doest as thou wisheth."