Okay so the Worm Cult is back, they're in the process of trying to take over and/or destroy the world again, and you've just arrived on this remote tropical island that nobody's ever heard of to make your heroic stand. What's the first thing you do?

Go shopping for new fashion, of course.

Well that isn't the first thing we did. Mostly because the sun was already going down when the convenient Stirk-Fellowship-appointed boat from Wayrest deposited us at the docks in Sunport. The encroaching twilight didn't stop us from doing a bit of nosing around along the coast just to see what we could find, and by the time I'd had my fill of that, we were good and tuckered out and ready for a solid snooze in an actual inn.

Granted the snooze might have been more solid if it hadn't been so dang hot. The breeze through the open window helped, but I was mostly reminded of the nagging feeling I'd had during the voyage, which got stronger the further south we went, that I should have packed something lighter to wear.

And so once Bastian and I met back up for breakfast, I declared that it was time to pick ourselves up something lighter to wear. He was uncomfortable enough in his own long sleeves and layers that he needed very little convincing, and it was actually fairly fun combining a more frivolous than usual shopping excursion with the usual new city exploration.

The actual process of trying things on mostly consisted of me trying things on and Bastian saying "looks good" to literally everything I showed him. Either I have impeccable taste or he doesn't really care what I wear, but either way we eventually both settled on new outfits that we were happy with.



I'm not sure I've ever owned something mint green before. It has a breezy feel to it that suits the tropical ambience, and I like that the lavender accents match this cute purple flower I found for my hair. Bastian's got kind of a down-to-earth seafarer look going on, complete with rolled-up sleeves to help beat the heat.

As we gave each other our post-purchase appraisals, I couldn't help admiring the artwork on display on his arms. "You know, I don't think I've ever heard the story behind all those tattoos."

He grinned. "I was just thinking the same thing, actually."

I followed his gaze to my mostly-exposed shoulder. Oh right, some of the swirls running down my arms were actually visible now.

"Okay," I said. "You first."

"Hmm. Let's just say... things can get a little raucous when a young man is away from home on business with nobody watching disapprovingly over his shoulder. Especially when there's alcohol involved."

"Oh no."

"It wasn't a bad thing," he clarified. "I mean I could have done without the hangover the next day, but once I got past wondering how I'd explain it to Lady Silvelle, I realized I didn't have anything to be ashamed of. It was something I chose for myself, and it'll always remind me how much fun we had that night."

"Wait, you got all those tattoos in one night?"

"Well no, that was just where it started. I've had more added here and there as the mood struck. I... may have gotten a little carried away over time, but I'm happy with how they turned out."

I couldn't deny that they were impressive. "I've always found it interesting that someone so straight-laced would have so much topography inked."

He chuckled, and then something occurred to him. "...Just how much of my 'topography' have you seen?"

"Hmm? ...Some." I mean I didn't need to say I might have caught a glimpse of chest or back here or there while we were washing up in a stream or whatnot, but it's not like he was trying to hide anything, was he?

Anyway. "You wanted to know about mine too, right? Well I presume you remember me telling you about those bandits who used me as an errand girl for a couple of months before they sold me to the Worm Cult?" He nodded. "I guess you could call these a permanent souvenir of my time with them."

"They made you get tattoos?"

"They didn't force me, and maybe I shouldn't have let them goad me into it, but..."

"What happened?"

I thought back to the sequence of events. "The boss had a... well, she'd be mad if I called her his girlfriend, but they had a thing off and on when she wasn't actively pissed at him. She was about the only person there who looked out for me sometimes. When it was convenient."

"It's good that you had an ally there."

"That's a generous term, but I guess it counted for something. Anyway, she knew how to ink, and had given tattoos to some of the crew who wanted them, and one time somebody thought it would be funny to dare the errand girl to get inked too. I didn't feel like giving them a reason to feel smug, and I mostly trusted her not to stab my arms off, so I went through with it."

I brushed my fingers over the swirls winding around my bare elbow. "I'm probably lucky I ended up with something I actually like and not a blobby attempt at a skull or something."

"I've always thought the design was quite elegant," Bastian said. "From what I've seen."

For a moment I recalled that Bosmer halter top I wore in... was it Elsweyr? And wasn't there an off-the-shoulder number I wore one time when I was trying to blend in with a crowd? Maybe one of those outfits would have provided a better view, if I'd thought to bring them along...

But no, we were here now, and we'd already committed to our official island garb. So he'd just have to enjoy the view he was getting.

"So, now that this very important piece of business is taken care of..." Bastian said, straightening out the rolled-up cuffs of his shirt, "Who are we going to help first?"

Skordo had advised me to seek out someone named Midconjuror Mirmal, who was assisting Prince Azah in establishing the Stirk Fellowship's presence on Solstice. We found him without too much trouble near the main gate of the city, and he directed us to where we could find the prince.

Our timing was good. Azah was just about to oversee the teleportation ritual that would bring in the last group of soldiers and dignitaries sent by the alliances, including the official representatives who would be assessing the Worm Cult threat. Apparently if you're important enough, you get priority transport instead of being stuck on a boat for weeks.

I might have expected Gabrielle to be handling portal duty, but she had gone off to do some research elsewhere on the island, so another Mages Guild member was setting things up with assistance from Mirmal. I did my part with some expert doodad placement, and then it was portal time.

Annnnd then everything blew up.

Does it count as a shocking betrayal if you literally just met the person two minutes ago and had no real reason to know or care who they were before they sprang their diabolical trap?

I suppose there were signs, now that I've had a chance to review our conversation in the context of what Mage Farinor was planning to do, like how she was setting up her portal differently from how Gabrielle would do it, or how she advised me to just stand back and watch while she made sure everything went as she intended. But if the actual mages couldn't tell that something was wrong until it was too late, I sure wasn't going to spot the traitor in time to do anything about it.

On the plus side, Mirmal was able to salvage the teleportation well enough that it didn't completely disintegrate everyone coming through. But he had to divert the alliance representatives to other destinations, and he wasn't entirely sure where those destinations actually were. So my next order of business was to find them, before the Worm Cult or any of the island's hungry predators got to them first.

Gabrielle was also potentially in danger, especially given that Farinor had been the one who directed her to the temple where she was doing her research. That might have just been a diversion to make sure our portal expert wasn't around to spot the fly in the magical ointment, but if there was a chance that Gabrielle was on the Worm Cult's hit list too, I definitely needed to make sure she was safe. I might have even been inclined to make her my first priority, but without knowing who the alliance representatives were and how well they could handle themselves in a fight, I decided to start with them. The last thing we needed were some preening diplomats getting eaten by mudcrabs.

Thankfully those fears were unfounded. I still don't know who the Dominion sent, but the Pact and Covenant representatives were more than capable of protecting themselves after crash-landing in their respective dens of worms and spiders. (I did have to wonder what King Jorunn was thinking when Rigurt popped out of that tent, but thankfully he'd just been hunkering down with Walks-in-Ash until the coast was clear. Which probably means I'll be running into the Nord Cultural Exchange at some point. Joy.)

When we found Skordo, who had gotten the nod of diplomacy from High King Emeric along with his role in the Fighters Guild, we also got our first up-close look at what the locals have dubbed the Writhing Wall. Because what Solstice really needed, on top of the necromancy cult invasion, was a giant wall made of ghost-stuff cutting the island in two.

The wall is actually kind of pretty from a distance, hanging in the background like a shimmering curtain. But up close you can hear the disquieting hum of stolen souls, and the curtain forms a hard and unyielding barrier. Skordo wondered what the cult was hiding on the other side, but the only clue we found was a sloppily-burned missive that said something about an important shipment being delivered to some passageway or other. So we'll have to keep an eye out for that, whatever it is.

Back on the road after pointing Skordo toward Sunport, we were flagged down by Keshu the Black Fin. She remembered my work as a "mercenary" back in Blackwood, and hoped that we'd be able to aid her efforts to aid the Argonians of Shell-Tide Village. They were having Worm Cult trouble of their own, and Keshu hoped that helping them drive away the cultists and cleanse their tainted waters would both weaken the necromancers' presence on the island and ingratiate the Stirk Fellowship to some local allies.

We still needed to track down Gabrielle, of course, but the situation Keshu described was dire. The village's hatching-pools, home to unborn Argonians from all over the island, had become corrupted by the cult's necrotic magic. The water that should have been nurturing those eggs was now gradually killing them, and the longer it took to restore the sanctity of the tides, the deeper the devastation would run.

And so we embarked on a combination rite of purification and rite of passage alongside a pair of brothers eager to take their places among the full-fledged warriors of their tribe. Under normal circumstances it would have been relatively simple for them to follow the time-honored path of offering deferential prayers to their ancestors, facing their potential futures in a dream-wallow, and seeking approval from Sithis. But with necromancers digging up their ancestors and poisoning their dreams, nothing about this was going to be simple.

Having some ace bodyguards along for the ride helped, though. And by the time the brothers secured the Dread Father's blessing, having rejected the temptations of false power and learned some valuable lessons about themselves and their place in the world, the tides had truly turned.

I learned some interesting things along the way, too. I think it actually started with a song text we found lying around near the docks shortly after we arrived. Something about tides, and being reborn, and destined scales, and a lot of imagery that makes a lot more sense now that I understand the philosophy particular to the Tide-Born.

In this place without a connection to the Hist, the Argonians believe that their nascent selves, the souls nurtured within those eggs waiting to hatch, are bathed not only in water but in memories. But it's the memories discarded by the Hist that get washed away and brought to Solstice on the tides, to be given another chance to become what they failed to be in their previous life. A kind of reincarnation built on unfulfilled potential, and the idea that it's never too late to start over and try again.

Even before I knew what any of this really meant, there were a couple of lines of that song that stood out to me:

"Do not chase scales worn and old, the Tide wishes you scales of gold."

What is it with Argonian songs and pointed reminders about not getting so mired in looking back that you miss out on what's ahead? At least this one didn't come accompanied by droning frogs. (That we've heard. So far.) But yes, I did get the point, again, that being fixated on the past is a good way to miss out on an even better future. Even if the ideal we're clinging to seems like the epitome of our hopes and dreams, there might be even shinier scales waiting for us if we stop clinging and allow ourselves to drift toward something new.

There's so much about our current scenario that takes me back to my past. The Worm Cult threat, reuniting with old friends, even the inevitability of wishing that Darien could be here too. All I need is the ghostly apparition of an old blind guy to appear and start yelling at me to come to the Harborage, and it'll be just like the old days.

But I can't let myself fall into the trap of thinking it'll be just like it was before. Even if Mannimarco were to show up and steal my soul again, this won't be just a retread of the first chapter of my heroic journey. We have new friends fighting alongside us, and there will be new challenges to face, and who knows what surprises along the way. (Though hopefully we've already filled our quota of shocking betrayals.) Whatever comes, I need to remember that I'm always moving forward, buoyed by the tides toward whatever the river has in store.

Of course, I'm not taking the allegory so literally as to feel like I was washed away from an unfulfilling old life to completely remake myself here on Solstice. I still have plenty of my current life to live, after all. But maybe there is something to be said for a fresh start. I mean I've already got the fresh look to go along with it. Fresh air, fresh sea spray, fresh fruity little drinks... yeah maybe we can make good use of this tropical paradise. Just gotta clear out the stinky necromancers, and we'll be golden.