I lean against the wayshrine in the middle of Auridon’s wilderness, having finally brought my pack along and not just my pants. My repeated nude appearances in the middle of Elden Root drew some attention from passersby, but more in the way of amusement at the inept mage who can’t teleport properly than anyone thinking this was particularly weird.

The thing about wayshrine teleportation that I’ve noticed, after doing it two dozen times without resting, is that it does not require magicka or even physical stamina. It doesn’t even really feel like magic. All it takes is a few minutes of concentration, and in the process I feel some odd things both about the place I’m traveling to and about myself, like I’m more in tune with the world for a moment.

When I return to Elden Root this time, a couple of people applaud jovially in my general direction. “Congratulations on being not naked!” says someone.

I laugh aloud and take a bow, then head toward the Outside Inn to see if my friends are in. Ilara is napping in a sunbeam that has found its way through the leaves of the giant tree, but she stirs when I come in. She informs me that Merry went to the Mages Guild, Eran to the Fighters Guild, and Gelur said something about shopping.

Up in the Mages Guild branch, I find Merry in rapt conversation with Shalidor. They break off when I approach, Shalidor excusing himself to say he ought to help Valaste with deciphering the next book.

“Are we leaving town now?” Merry asks.

I shake my head. “Not yet. There’s something we’ll need to look into in Elden Root first, but there’s something I need your assistance with first.”

“Of course,” Merry says graciously.

We arrive at the ground floor and I go up to the wayshrine.

“Hold my hand, Merry.” I offer him my left hand.

“Excuse me?” Merry replies in surprise.

“I’ve gotten wayshrine teleportation to where it can take what I’m carrying with me,” I say. “You up for a potentially dangerous magical experiment?”

Merry smirks and takes my hand. “Let’s go.”

The first couple attempts go no better than my nude teleportation, and on the third one I feel like I’ve almost got a hold of something but it gets pulled out of my hand as I go. No, that’s not right. I need to actually encompass him with the effect, not just try to drag him along. I take a deep breath and close my eyes, and imagine him as belonging with me just as much as my clothes and my pack. I haven’t known my party for very long, but I feel like we’ve got something good going.

It takes a few more tries, but finally, when I appear at the wayshrine in mid-Auridon, my hand doesn’t clench on nothing.

“You did it!” Merry exclaims. “I wasn’t sure if this was even going to be workable without proper training.”

“I did get some tips from Ealcil and Sees-All-Colors,” I say. “The latter of whom was considerably easier to understand…”

“I wonder if I can do it too, or if it requires having Aetherial energy from a Skyshard within you,” Merry muses.

“Let’s find out, then,” I say. “I’d like to practice teleporting around with someone to make sure I can do it reliably, anyway.”

Merry lights the (already lit) wayshrine with a basic fire spell, and I teleport us to the wayshrine near the house of monkeys in southern Auridon (after failing to bring Merry twice).

“Alright, let me try this, then,” Merry says. “How did you do this? You’re not even really a mage, so I’m sure this shouldn’t be a problem for an experienced spellcaster.”

It turns out to be not quite so easy for an experienced spellcaster, much to Merry’s frustration. Our audience here is a handful of monkeys who are quite puzzled about what we’re trying to do. One of them starts climbing up Merry’s leg when he’s not paying attention. He jumps in surprise and firmly informs the small creature that he is not a tree, gently removes it and puts it on the ground again.

“I don’t get it,” Merry says, returning his attention to the wayshrine. “I can’t even sense through the wayshrine what you say you’re sensing. It must be the Aetherial resonance. I don’t have that connection, anymore than I have your Aedric light powers. I could surely reverse-engineer something that has a similar effect, but it would take time and would not be as easy to access as it is for you.” He sighs as he notices the monkey has is clinging to him, and peels it off again. “You’d best stay here, little one, unless you really want to see Elden Root that badly. Now that would be an awfully big tree to climb for someone so small.”

“I guess you’ll just need to make sure not to misplace me, then,” I say with a grin.

“Honestly, I didn’t expect anything to come of it,” Merry says. “You learned to teleport in, what, less than a day? You probably could have figured it out yourself if you’d spent more time meditating at wayshrines than hitting things with a battle axe and jumping off cliffs because it was quicker than walking around.”

After making several more jumps as practice, visiting every wayshrine I’ve activated so far, I bring us back to Elden Root. The upside of traveling by wayshrine is being able to immediately get to any other wayshrine I’ve activated. The downside is that I’ll probably need to be at a wayshrine to do it.

Gelur spots us and approaches. “There you are! I saw that magic bag you were using and thought I’d see if I could get one of my own.” She shows off a new leather pack. “I could keep a whole stock of potions in here if I had any potions. Or just quite a lot of food, animal parts from hunting, or random pieces of junk if I were feeling half as much like a packrat as you.”

“Nice,” I say. “We’ve been practicing wayshrine teleportation. Want to see if I can teleport both of you at once? After that, the King asked me to look into an irregularity with the Khajiit embassy.” I pause. “I have a stupid question for you, Gelur. Do you call him ‘King Camoran’ or ‘King Aeradan’?”

“Not a stupid question,” Gelur says with a grin. “Not like you’ve been to Valenwood before. ‘Camoran’ is the House name, as you’d think of it. You’d call him ‘King Aeradan’.”

“Ah! There we go. Thank you.”

Teleporting with two other people turns out to be much more difficult than just one. After giving it half a dozen tries and only managing to get one or the other when I manage to bring anyone at all, I decide that’s enough teleportation practice for now. Gelur bids us good luck and returns to shopping. Something about needing a new staff. I wish her luck in finding something—I want my companions to have the best equipment we can acquire, after all.

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Merry and I make our way over to where we might find Ambassador Tarinwe, with Ilara joining us along the way. Our directions lead us past the tent where the Undaunted are doing things like drinking questionable beverages and juggling knives. The embassy turns out to be an Altmer-style building a short way away from the Elden Tree and not a fancy branch like the Guildhalls or a set of house pods like the inn. Clearly the Altmer weren’t feeling like ‘roughing it’ too badly. Some unhappy Khajiit are sitting outside, which would probably have been more comfortable for them had it not started raining.

While the guards don’t seem very happy with the loitering Khajiit, they aren’t inclined to try to stop us from going in, which is just as well since then I might have to climb up the tree and get King Aeradan to sign some questionable papers that tell people I’m officially supposed to be annoying people into compliance. Once I step inside the building, it’s like I’ve stepped right back into the Summerset Isles again. If anything, this building is trying even harder to pretend than it’s in the Summerset Isles than ones that are actually in the Summerset Isles.

We locate Ambassador Tarinwe upstairs. I’ll call her Tarry, which seems to be what she’s been doing for the most part. She’s not too eager to speak to us until I mention Prince Naemon’s name. According to her, she did order stone excavacated and set aside construction supplies for the Khajiit. She makes it quite clear that whatever the problem here is not her fault, and then she runs off to find Prince Naemon.

“Something fishy is going on here,” Ilara says quietly once Tarry is gone. “This one’s nose can smell it.”

“Agreed,” Merry says. “This bears further investigation.”

“Let’s start with inspecting the construction supplies, then, shall we?” I say. “See if whatever she arranged for was actually adequate for building a Khajiit-style building.”

There’s a guard standing in front of the building in question, who is very firm that no one is to come in without Ambassador Tarinwe’s permission.

“This one thought these supplies were for the Khajiit,” Ilara says.

“I’m sorry, but the ambassador was very clear,” the guard says.

“What about Queen Ayrenn’s permission?” I ask. “I am Inspector Neralion. We work for the Queen, not the good ambassador, and the Queen is very concerned that her orders are not being met.”

“I’m sorry, but without written orders—”

I pull out my paperwork from the college and wave it at him.

The guard’s eyes widen at seeing the Queen’s official seal, but then he grabs it and actually reads it. “This is for something else entirely! Stop fooling around.” He throws it on the ground. “I cannot leave my post except in an emergency, and that’s final.”

“Okay, I guess that’s how we’re doing things, then,” I say. “Merry, please set fire to something. Ilara, kindly start a riot, would you?”

Ilara is grinning gleefully at the prospect, but the guard just holds up his hands.

“Gah!” the guard exclaims. “There’s no need to cause trouble! I’m not getting paid enough to deal with crazy adventurers.” He looks away from us. “Oh my, this wood elf cuisine is not agreeing with me. I really need to use the privy and I might be in there for a while. I hope nothing burns down while I’m otherwise occupied.” He hums loudly to himself and walks off.

We take the opportunity to step inside, and split up to inspect the place more quickly, and we just as quickly realize the supplies in here are worthless. Broken tools, ragged blankets, and spoiled food. Ilara crinkles up her nose at a barrel of rotting meat.

“Why did they even keep this!?” Ilara exclaims. “This one hopes this is not some fine Bosmer delicacy.”

“It might be, but it seems like someone’s trying to pull a fast one here,” I say. “Let’s get out of here. I have some questions for someone. Now I just need to find the right someone and pin them down long enough to question them.”

“I could paralyze Tarinwe long enough to get answers if you like,” Merry offers.

“Splendid idea,” I say cheerfully. “She said she was going to talk to Prince Naemon, didn’t she? Let’s head up the tree and see if he’s around. Hopefully we’ll be able to intercept her before we have to actually talk to Prince Naemon.”

No such luck. We run into Naemon before we’ve even left the embassy grounds. When we let him know what we’ve found, he pauses being annoyed at me for killing his wife long enough to be annoyed at someone else’s incompetence and corruption. The supplies were supposed to be available and the stone ready for construction by now.

“What was her excuse when she talked to you?” I ask.

“She hasn’t actually spoken with me recently,” Naemon says.

“Odd,” I say. “She ran off in a hurry saying she was going to find you.”

Ilara sniffs at the air. “Mm, yes. Definitely something fishy. This one smells carp.”

“Something’s definitely wrong here,” I say. “Merry, Ilara, see if you can find her and detain her. Gelur might have seen her come through the marketplace. I’m going to go figure out the problem with the stone.”

“We’re on it,” Merry says, and they hurry off toward the big tree.

“I hope they do not detain a Dominion ambassador too forcefully,” Naemon says. “But yes, I have questions for her myself, and this is making us look bad.”

The place the stone was being excavated from isn’t actually a quarry, but an ancient ruin that they’re dismantling for building materials. I suppose that’s recycling them, but some historians might be horrified at the thought. In any case, the work crew appears to be dead, and I doubt it was due to angry historians wanting to preserve the ruins. The workers and their carts have been hacked apart with axes (I know what something being hacked apart with an axe looks like) and left for the hoarvor.

Honestly, I have no idea why someone would bother murdering common laborers, but it’s been months. Surely someone would have noticed that not only have they not delivered the stone, but they haven’t even come back for dinner. Something about this definitely doesn’t add up. I hurry back to the big tree.

Gelur intercepts me on my way past the guild traders. “There you are! Ilara told me what was going on and we had a little chat with one of them Vinedusk Rangers. Says the King’s been suspicious of the ambassador for some time and she’s been involved in smuggling and criminal activities! Would you believe?”

“I’ll believe it,” I say. “Where’s Merry and Ilara?”

“This way,” Gelur says, and we hurry off. “She’s hiding out in a literal shithole here. The Middens. All sorts of lowlifes and scum down there. Probably going to try to pay someone to smuggle her out of Valenwood.”

The Middens is a hole at the base of the Elden Tree, partially covered by vines. I doubt I would have even noticed it if Gelur hadn’t pointed it out to me. That seems to be a common trend here in Valenwood. Everything’s obscured by foliage and I haven’t learned how to pay attention to it and recognize what the forest is showing me. Ilara and Merry are standing just inside, making sure no one slips out this exit. (There’s got to be more than one entrance to a place like this, though.) The caves are full of beggars and madmen, over half of whom are Khajiit.

“Spare some coin?” asks one of them quietly. “Or some skooma?”

“Oy,” Gelur says, nudging the beggar gently. “Did you see a poncy high elf come through here? Fancies herself an ambassador?”

“She went that way,” the beggar points.

We head past more unfortunates, up until we turn a corner and run into heavily armed Altmer yelling about the Veiled Heritance while attacking us on sight.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I say. “Racist bandits? Here? And I was hoping I was done having to deal with you lot.”

A firm application of violence (that is, the gruesome slaughter of all the racist bandits in the Middens) inspires Ambassador Tarry not to tarry in surrendering. It’s probably not going to save her in the long run, although she’s probably hoping that she can escape from Dominion custody while they’re attempting to question her. We get her back to the surface to turn her over to the proper authorities, and I toss some coins to the helpful beggar on the way out.

Ilara hesitantly approaches Prince Naemon. “Prince… Your Highness, sir… Ilara must speak with you. She has important information.”

Naemon sighs, and seeing that he’s not getting out of this conversation, says, “Yes, what is it? Make it quick.”

“Ambassador Tarinwe was speaking to another mer in the Middens when we approached. This one’s sharp ears heard what they were saying. They mentioned you, Your Highness. They seemed quite concerned that their activities had drawn your attention, and they… ah… they wanted to control you. They intended on making you their puppet.”

“Did they now?” Naemon says, scowling fiercely. “Thank you for bringing me this information. Did you hear anything else of note?”

Ilara shakes her head. “No. At that point, they spotted us and attacked, and only yelled ‘For the Heritance!’ after that.”

Naemon thanks her with some extra coin, surprising Ilara, who bows when dismissed and scurries off in the direction of the marketplace.