#young mori

[obrezvremeni]

I really like Mori in military uniform.😜

[shadows-of-almsivi]

Youth and ashstorms please maybe?

It was so big.

Balmora always seemed big enough already, but it’s the kind of big that’s really close together. There’s lots of alleyways and stairways weaved all around the buildings like an ant’s nest turned inside out, and it’s very important to have a map your mother drew for you so you don’t get lost and turn up somewhere you shouldn’t. You could hold your breath and try to run across the bridge, and you might make it to the other side but you would have to be very fast, and I only ever get halfway. I thought the very biggest thing in the world were the stones by the outskirts, a little bit taller than the ‘strider platform or even the watchtowers. 

That was as far as I’d ever been, until I was six and Mother took me to visit Uncle Endalyn. He lives really far away, in Ald’Ruhn, even though it doesn’t look very far away in the pictures. Pictures are tricky like that, I found out. Mother wrapped me up in a new travelling shawl she’d made for me, the colour of bricks, with little blue and white stitches on it. I was allowed to pack my own bag, but it had to be a little bag, with only really important things in it, like my drawing book and my toy durzog. Father gave me a little bit of guar-tallow pimihk with the berries mixed in for the trip, like a real soldier’s rations, so that Uncle Endalyn would know I’m ready to be a good warrior and carry a sword.

The ‘strider platform had lots of stairs. I only got a little bit scared because I was very high up, but the caravaner lifted me up and put me into the passenger hole really careful so I wouldn’t fall off the platform and die. He said the ‘strider’s name was Rubaru, and Rubaru’s special because it can say its name, and I was allowed to pet its brain. There’s a little rope around the edge of the shell where the cargo hooks go, and it’s all right to peer out so long as you hold onto the rope really tight, but you gotta ask first if it’s safe.

Balmora’s close-together big, but the ashfields weren’t like that at all. It was like a marketplace square made of dirt and grass and things, except there weren’t any walls or corners, just some rocks and really big mushrooms sometimes. And it goes on and on so far that you feel really tiny, like the ‘strider’s just a little bug and you’re an even littler bug on top of it. And that’s only the little bit on the map between this bit and that bit there. That’s really big, sideways big. And there’s almost no water anywhere, except on rocks for the wild guar to lick.

The sky was so blue it made my eyes go all weird to look at it, and I saw a cliffracer with speckles on it, but it went away when the little bells hanging from the canopy posts started ringing. The caravaner put on his goggles, and Mother made me put my things away and wrap my face up in my scarf because the bells mean a storm is coming. Rubaru didn’t mind, but we had to button up the big leather cover for it so the ash bits wouldn’t get stuck in its squishy parts. I had to go sit with Mother under the cover so we’d be safe too, but I wanted to see. I poked my finger through this little gap and I saw the clouds.

They started really far away, so far it looked like they faded into the world. It wasn’t like normal clouds, but like a big red wall, rolling over the fields and boiling at the edges. The wind got stronger and louder until it drowned out everything, and from up on the ‘strider you almost couldn’t see anything at all. Just red, red, red, and the wind, and Rubaru singing a song to it like it was saying hello. There was a big rushing sound that came towards us really fast, and then the red swallowed us up too. Mother made me leave the hole alone, then, so I sat down.

The storm didn’t stop till we were almost at Ald’Ruhn, but I didn’t know that until later on. I don’t remember the rest of the trip. The ash made a shh-shh-shh noise on the leather cover, and I fell asleep.

((For a later example of Morry and ash storms, try here))

[shadows-of-almsivi]

[[Youth, Khajiit]]

“…And that’s how come I’m not supposed to go up there anymore.” Mori scuffed his sandals in the dust, one little arm looped dutifully around M’abar’s piebald forearm like a chaperone. “S’Rakesh dared me to, though, so I couldn’t help it this time. I had to. Even though the guards there are scary.”

M’abar chuckled, his hands tucked deep into his pockets. “Is important to show you are very brave, even if kitten-small. For honor, yes?”

“Yeah! That’s what I said!” The little Dunmer paused to jump high over a deep crack in the street-clay, landing heavily on both feet. “I wasn’t scared. Not very much. I got pretty far up, I think, even though S’Rakesh is a better climber than me and he says Khajiit don’t get scared when they’re up high places.”

“Oh, this one does not think so,” M’abar said, stopping at the alley crossroads to watch for any passing cane-carts that might be coming around the corner. The Council Club’s guards seemed to have grown bored and wandered back, no doubt having better things to do than chase a child across town. “Being high up is scaresome, sometimes, even for the grown, and you were very high up. Much higher than M’abar would like to go.” He winked down at him, as though they were sharing a very important secret. “You climb much better than M’abar, you know.”

Mori beamed up at the old Khajiit, fingers twitching in M’abar’s armfur. “Thanks, ser.”

“Is welcome.” M’abar smiled back, his greyed whiskers fanning pleasantly in the sun. He turned towards the midtown lanes, where the houses didn’t have as much clay missing from their walls. “This way?”

“Yeah. It’s three-tens of houses down that street, and two-tens up the next one till you almost get to the river. But not all the way there,” Mori added helpfully. “That’s the one where I live.”

M’abar blinked. He was sure such directions might have been useful to a body that could count. “Okay. You tell M’abar when.” They set off through the winding back-lanes again, M’abar’s tail swaying in the dust behind them. “So what happens after-this? After little-mer is in a tree?”

Mori frowned, looking at the ground. “Well… Then that lady from the Council Club what brings the plates in, she said she was going to tell on me for messing up Sedura Maviro’s fancy tree again, even though I didn’t even mess it up any this time, I was just sitting in it. And I tried to get out, but I got stuck and S’Rakesh ran off, so that wasn’t my fault either.” He picked up a bit of twig, scratching it against the alley wall so he would have something to do aside from looking embarrassed. “Anyway, the Council Club’s guard came to chase me out, and that’s when you came… Sorry for jumping on you, ser, I didn’t see you there.”

“Is well,” M’abar laughed. “Little-mer do not weigh so much as big ones. Better to land on big, soft M’abar, and not break your legs on hard ground.” He looked thoughtfully at the child a while. “This one has a question.”

“Yes, ser?”

“This friend, S’Rakesh, he left you there to be caught all a-self. Were you angry?”

Mori shrugged. “I guess so. A little bit.”

“S’Rakesh sounds like not a good friend, maybe. Little-mer could have been out of trouble, if they told that lady it was S’Rakesh put them in the tree.”

Mori looked at the ground for a long time, taking two steps for every one of M’abar’s. “I couldn’t’ve done that,” he mumbled. “I mean, sure I was mad at him, a little bit. But…” He glanced up at M’abar, a little like he was checking he wasn’t being toyed with. “He’s not a bad friend, most of the time. He just gets scared. It’s different for me to get in trouble. It’s worse if they catch him, so it’s all right if he runs away.”

“Why say this?” M’abar nudged.

“Well, you know… He’s a Khajiit, ser. Folks’re mean to him, even when he wasn’t doing anything.” Mori shrugged. “They’re not so mean to me.”

M’abar nodded sagely. “Ah, this one understands. Protecting your friend, yes?”

Mori nodded. He looked a touch wary. “You’re… Not going to tell on us, are you?”

“Is better for Khajiit to settle things amongst themselves,” M’abar soothed. “M’abar will talk to him, quiet, that is all.”

They stopped by a house Mori pointed at, a little townhouse with a pomegranate tree visible on the rooftop. M’abar leaned against the stoop-wall a moment to soak in the warmth from the clay. “Do not worry about S’Rakesh,” he said. “Next time you see Khajiit doing a foolishness, or you hear Dunmer talk about catching one, you come tell M’abar by the river, yes? M’abar will fix things.”

Mori nodded, frowning very seriously. “So they won’t get in trouble?”

“So all of us do not get in trouble.” M’abar sank down onto his haunches to meet Mori’s eye level. “Listen, is very important. Khajiit, we sometimes… Look alike to Dunmer. Sometimes, one Khajiit does something wrong, and many Khajiit have troubles. Sometimes, Khajiit get hurt. Little-mer understands?”

“Yes, ser.”

“Good, good. Very good.” M’abar beamed at the stern-browed little mer, looking for all the world like a small but determined little Ordinator. If he were not a Khajiit, he might have ruffled his long, dark hair. “Best run along inside, now. No good sneaking home just to get caught.”

“Okay!” Mori crept up the steps to the door, bending low like how he imagined an Ashlander scout might stalk up a bluff. He was pretty sure his parents weren’t inside, but it didn’t hurt to be sneaky. “Thanks again, ser!”

“–Ah, one more thing,” M’abar added; Mori skittered on the tiles, half-hanging from the door’s handle. M’abar flicked his tail with embarrassment. “Is best you do not tell anyone M’abar walked you home, yes?”

Mori cocked his head, scratching idly behind one ear. “How come? You were just helping.”

“M’abar knows,” he said, grimacing slightly. “But, ah… It does not look so good, you know. Old Khajiit strangers leading little-mer into alleyways. Dunmer might have… Wrong thinkings.”

Mori just looked at him strangely and shrugged. “If you say so, ser.”

“Good mer. Off you go.”

Mori closed the door behind him, leaving M’abar alone in the laneway. He smiled a little to himself as he began the long walk back to the slums. Such a curious thing, a street-cat like S’Rakesh being friends with an Ordinator’s kit. Quite sweet, really, and rare besides. He wondered how long it would last, once that nice little kit grew into a House mer…

[shadows-of-almsivi]

[ For the snapshot meme: Teenage Morry + scrib! <3 ]

“Oh, you littledarling…!”

Ulenea paused, rubbedthe bridge of her nose. “Mori, no.”

“Look at itslittle tail, though! It likes me!”

“Leave it alone,Mori– Oh, Three’s sakes, put it down.”

Moraelyn pouted alittle, a chirring scrib hugged against his oversized tunic like astuffed doll. “But it’s so cute… It’s only small…”

Ulenea fought a smile;her lanky little thirdborn hadn’t quite outgrown all trace ofchildhood. “Lords, it’s just like when you were a grub. Give itback, come on.”

The scrib’s legs wavedin the air, clearly quite anxious at being off the ground. Moraelynmoaned in protest but grudgingly did as he was asked, setting thelittle creature back into the marketeer’s scrib-pen alongside itsskittering, thumping clutchmates. “What do you mean?” heasked, sullen but curious, waving goodbye to the scribs as theywalked away. “What did I do when I was little?”

“You don’tremember?” Ulenea shrugged. “Well, I suppose you were onlysmall, after all. I think you were four… It was when your brothershad first gone off to Temple lessons in Ald'Ruhn for the summer.”

Moraelyn shrugged,kicking a stray pebble down an alleyway. It hit a planter-pot, makingthe scraggly trama branches shudder. “I think I remember themleaving. Not much, though. I remember being sad, that’s all.”

“Yes. Gods, yes,you were.” Ulenea’s eyes took on a distant, staring look, awarrior’s reverie. “You all but howled the house down. And whenyou tired of crying, you grew bored…” She cut eyestowards her thirdborn, a little humour to the curve of her mouth.“The greatest horror of my life without your brothers around.”

“How come?”Moraelyn bent to pluck up a feather, fidgeting with it as helistened, doing a poor job of feigning inattention.

Ulenea chuckled.“Because, sweetling, you were liable to find something to do.Like find Father’s inkwell and draw all over the walls near theWaiting Door with it.” And everything else, Ulenea added toherself. Ink all over the carpets, tiny black footprints all throughthe house; her little thirdborn up on the dining table, chubby handsblack-stained like a miniature Mephala, reaching for hidden treats onthe high shelves. “Or, more to the point, the scribincidents…”

Moraelyn frowned,ruffling the feather in his fingers and straightening it out again.“So I drew scribs on things?”

She shook her head.“Family portraits, actually. And guar. But no, no, a completelydifferent thing… These were real scribs. There was aneighbour who kept some to feed up. I’d put you down for a nap, orlet you play in the courtyard for a moment, and by the time Ireturned to check on you, you’d be lugging a fat little scrib aroundand trying to hide it in your room amongst your toys.”

Moraelyn tucked thefeather into his pocket, to take home for his collection. “Why did I do that?”

“Just missing yourbrothers’ company, I expect. You’d never been separated from them forso long before. Your father thought a pet of your own might settleyou down, or at least stop you from rustling the neighbour’slivestock.” (This was not precisely what had been said, ofcourse, not in so many words; Ulenea fought down a smile at thememory of her poor, weary Sadaryn lying awake beside her in the dark,woken yet again by the drumming and chirping of startled scribs,begging her in gravelly, defeated whispers. “Ule… Ule, please.Make it stop. Get the little thief a houndlet or something. I can’tarrest an infant.”) “And it just so happened, Melvura– youremember Sedura Arenim, don’t you?”

“From HouseRedoran’s census gathering,” Moraelyn nodded. He twisted at thehem of his tunic, his eyes trained studiously downward, trying tohide a faint blush. “With the fancy red hair. She’s reallynice.”

“Mm. That she is.”Ulenea’s smile turned private for a moment. A golden summer eveningcame to mind: fine tea sets, music, pieces of bonemold left scatteredon a divan. Long red hair in elaborate braids, unwoven one by onewith great pleasure. Ah, to be a bold, young Ald'Ruhn bravo again…“Well, Melvura bred nix-hounds, just the finest creatures youcould imagine. I suppose she might breed them still. One of her nixhad dropped a brood, she was quite happy to help us…”

Moraelyn brightened,eartips twitching in the afternoon sun. “Is that where Aket camefrom?”

“Indeed, it is.The best of the litter. You stopped sulking immediately when I setAket down and let it run to you. You simply could not stop huggingthat little beast… And Aket loved you on sight, I’m sure, if a nixcan feel love. Wouldn’t let you out of its sight. Your father had amind to lay down the law, you know,” she added. affecting herhusband’s forbidding rasp, “ ’Animals have no place in thehouse’…” She shrugged as they turned the corner, tucking astray lock of escaped hair behind her ear. “But he relented soquickly. You cut such a darling figure together, he didn’t have theheart to really mean it.”

Moraelyn glanced slylyback towards the market, where the scrib-tender was closing one ofhis brood into a little wooden crate for an Argonian customer, whoheld a scrawled shopping list before her like a talisman. “Andthat was such a long time ago now…”

“Ah, ah, ah.No scribs. He’s deathly serious about that. He stillwakes in the night at times, swearing he heard one.“ She eyedhim hard, more-or-less serious. “Don’t antagonise your father.Be happy with Aket.”

“Yes, Mother.” His deflation wasalmost comically swift. 

She slipped a couple of coppers from herbeltpurse, tucking the gleaming coins into his pocket and between hisfingers. “Here,” she relented, “spoiled littlelonghair. Go run down to the docks and fetch some of those driedfish, the peppered ones. See if any of the trader junks have come upfrom Mournhold, hm? They might have some new books for you.”

His entire demeanourchanged with a speed to make any actor blush. His mouth twitched,fighting the urge to spread into a broad and childish grin. He noddedquick and tight, half a step towards the river. “Thank you!”His hand hastily brushed her forearm, as good as a kiss to the cheekfor the purposes of public streets, and he was gone, sandals strikingclay and stone.

Ulenea chuckled,turning towards home. Moraelyn would be back before nightfall, but towait was a foolish idea, particularly if he happened to find too manyenticing books at once and settled in to read a few. Time enough to relax a while, perhaps pour a draught of that crisp, sharp shein her brother had sentsouth for her…

[shadows-of-almsivi]

Age 12!

...I don’t think I’ve seen someone like you around before. I don’t think I’ve seen anything like you anywhere. Not to be rude, but I’d probably say you were some kind of a monster if I didn’t know you could speak. Are you from the Telvanni lands somewhere? Oh... Oh, you poor thing. Were-- I mean, are you an Argonian, maybe?

That’s far too many eyes to have in a city.The guards will kill you on sight, you know, if they see you wandering around like this. The sewers have too many people inside, too. Hmm... That’s a lot of teeth, but I have this spear, and I’m really good with it. How about I show you where there’s an abandoned kwama mine you can stay in, if you promise not to bite me and eat me and you promise three-times that you don’t have any diseases, and I’ll promise not to stab you or tell my father about you?

Okay... Close, um... Most? Most of your eyes, and you might pass enough for a normal Argonian to get you out the city gates. Here, you can borrow my scarf for the... Those things there. Those stitch things.