We spent most of the next day asleep, and wake in time for dinner to tell the other Brackenleaf’s Briars what we’ve been up to lately. They’re particularly alarmed by the problems at Telacar’s place being right on their doorstep, and I’m quick to assure them that the Mages Guild weren’t the ones responsible for it, but the people who were there on General Endare’s orders. (I looked up her name.) Also that things should be fine there now since I convinced Telacar to turn off the defenses. (Nobody’s been up that way recently, but they haven’t had any problems in the village or near Brackenleaf itself, so if there’s still problems of some sort there, they haven’t spilled out into the surrounding area.)

“We’ll have to have someone head up that way and check in on things,” Glaras says. “Knowing Telacar is awake and actually has been for some time is a shocking revelation. He’s made for a good, quiet neighbor so far. I hope that continues.”

I nod. “We’ll head up there along with them, then. And then… let’s see…”

I look in my journal, which I totally didn’t have to look in to remember Claras’ name or anything; that would be pathetic. Glaras. Her name is Glaras. Not Claras.

“A late shipment to look into at Redfur Trading Post, and we’ve got a lead on a way to destroy a cursed artifact that has been responsible for the deaths of multiple people.” I snort softly and put my book away. “Well. The latter is more important, the former is more time-sensitive. And I don’t want anyone but me handling that artifact. And I don’t want to handle that artifact again just yet because it makes you suicidal and I just had an uncomfortable encounter with someone who works for my ex-wife and while I don’t stay dead when I die, this would still be very unpleasant. So hey! Looking into a trader’s missing shipment sounds nice and uncomplicated.”

My friends seem to be getting used to the fact that I have zero brain-to-mouth filter and that I’m actually pretty terrible at keeping a secret when I’m not putting on my lying face, also known as my Hortator mask. I think I was pretty damned messed up.

We head out the next morning along with a couple of hunters, and make for the Mages Guild camp at the edge of the ruins. They haven’t packed up yet, but they seem considerably less agitated than before. The woman in charge there (Andewen) is glad to see us.

“You were right about Telacar,” Andewen says. “He came out with the most incredible, priceless relics and just donated them to the Guild. And he made it sound like we were doing him a favor in cleaning out some junk from his house! He was surprisingly pleasant underneath the grumpiness and I wouldn’t have taken him for a lich if I hadn’t known he was one beforehand.”

“Nothing too dangerous, I hope?” I ask.

“We’re still in the process of just sorting it all, never mind fully cataloguing and analyzing it,” Andewen says. “We’re just doing the preliminary checks to make sure it’s safe to move into a Guildhall more equipped to do in-depth studies. Not taking anymore chances on triggering more traps, intentional or otherwise!”

We take the wayshrine back to Goldfolly and from there, set off to the north. Whatever problems might be going on at the trading post have to be better than dealing with Ordinators and frequent nudity.

As we approach Redfur Trading Post, I hear a familiar Khajiit voice arguing with a guard. It’s Cinder-Tail, the one who taught me his secret recipe for thunder bug omelettes back on Khenarthi’s Roost, along with one of his senche friends. They’re quite happy to see a friendly face. And no matter what this guard thinks, Cinder-Tail clearly did not steal any moon sugar, no way, no how.

“You clearly have the wrong Khajiit, my lady,” I say smoothly, putting on my lying face. “Cinder-Tail here is a fine, upstanding Khajiit who would never steal anything.”

“Unfortunately, we can’t do anything without evidence, anyway,” the guard (Tulira, I think her name is) says. (Or was it Tumira? No, definitely Tulira.) She gives me a quick rundown of the politics around thievery at Redfur Trading Post. A group called Jode’s Chariot keep order, and they’re generally soft on thieves because they’re good for business.

“So, you don’t have the authority to investigate further?” I say.

“We’re adventurers,” Ilara pipes up. “Would we get a reward were we to bring back the missing moon sugar?”

“Very likely,” Tulira says. “I don’t have the authority to make that call, either, but I am certain that the merchant will be quite pleased to have his goods returned and grateful enough to give a reward.” She gives a sidelong look to Cinder-Tail. “Provided you can find any of it, of course. Perhaps your good friend Cinder-Tail here might have some ideas on where our mysterious thief could have hidden the goods.” She heads into town, leaving us alone with Cinder-Tail and Gobani (the latter of whom is quite stoic).

“Ah, thank you for vouching for us,” Cinder-Tail says. “Although about that moon sugar…”

“We’ll pay you for it,” I say with a grin, opening my pack to find my coin pouches.

“You would?” Cinder-Tail says. “Well. Hard currency is definitely a better thing to have on hand than moon sugar of questionable origins.” He chuckles. “A clever scheme. You get the merchant’s goodwill, I owe you a favor, and we both get paid.” He looks to Ilara. “But this one believes he did not catch the sleek lady’s name.”

“This here is Ilara-daro,” I say.

“A sleek name for a sleek Khajiit,” Cinder-Tail says, giving a bow.

I pay Cinder-Tail (at a discount, for the courtesy of not having to haul stolen goods across Valenwood), and he shows us where he stashed the goods and tells us that it belongs to a Khajiit merchant named Kigam-dar. He feels that he and Gobani have outstayed their welcome and that they ought to take the money and be moving on, but before he goes, he hands me a token for something called the Hollow Moon, who help people or something. I wish him luck and tell him that next time I see him, I want a book of his favorite recipes. We return to town with the stolen moon sugar. Kigam-dar is indeed grateful enough to pay for return of the moon sugar. Not enough to break even, but that wasn’t the point at all.

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Redfur Trading Post is a bit of an odd place. There’s a wayshrine (Khajiit-style) by the river, which I light on the way into town. A number of Khajiit-style and more exotic tents have been erected and several Bosmer-style tree pods have been grown around what looks like an old temple. Some carts are parked underneath the big, fancy bridge and some vendor stalls are scattered about. There’s even small Mages and Fighters Guild outposts that have been set up. Those folks really get around, but I suppose they’ve got to have somewhere to rest in between destroying Dark Anchors.

We track down the package we were supposed to be looking for (needing my journal both to remember his name, his company, and the name of the person we were supposed to talk to) and learn that it was impounded and thrown behind a building for disposal due to an ‘infestation’. That is to say, it’s full of kwama. No appreciation for exotic cuisine. Rude. Into my bag it goes (after ensuring no more kwama are going to escape and ruin my stuff).

I spot an advertisement requesting combat assistance at an archaeological expedition at a nearby Ayleid ruin, and make note of it and toss a copy into my pack. Something to look into should I feel like delaying dealing with the cursed amulet longer. (Who am I kidding? Of course I want to delay it.)

So, the Hollow Moon. They’ve got the whole ‘robbing from the rich and giving to the poor’ sort of thing going on here. We wind up talking to some people about it who are surprised Cinder-Tail had any of those tokens left to hand out, and I’m guessing he just gave me the last one he had before skipping town, as I doubt they’re valid currency anywhere else. Well, long story short about the politics here is that someone named Shan-ra is in charge and getting tired of thieves, and the Thalmor might be called in, which would be bad for the Hollow Moon because the Thalmor are harsher on thieves than Jode’s Chariot.

The Hollow Moon has the clever idea of bribing Shan-ra with some sort of treasure that it would take adventurers to get, because nobody else is insane and skilled enough to have successfully robbed the tomb in the middle of town.

We meet up with Tulira, the same guard who had stopped Cinder-Tail outside of town, who seems slightly surprised that we’re involved but then upon thinking back to our earlier interaction realizes she probably shouldn’t be surprised since we were suspicious as fuck. (And here I’d thought my lying face had been more convincing.) She lets us down into the tomb, and we climb down the ladder and get a good look at a long corridor full of fire traps turning on and off.

“You know what,” Eran says, staring uneasily at the traps. “You can have fun with this one. I’m going back upstairs.”

“Likewise,” Merry says, and Gelur also nods. The three of them start climbing back up, leaving me with Ilara.

“You sure about this?” I ask her, seeing that she’s not budging. “It’s likely to be dangerous.”

She nods. “Ilara… Ilara-daro wishes to prove herself.”

“Okay,” I say. “I’ve got Restoring Light and healing potions if you get hurt and I’ll show you some tips.”

I have her watch the traps, observe their movements and timing, and move right after one of them shuts off. We dart through there, past some spike traps, through some fire spouts, and come to some stairs flanked by statues with no traps in sight. I think that looks suspicious so I direct us around behind the statues and giving them a wide berth.

“You okay there?” I ask. “Not too singed or anything?”

“This one might have lost a few hairs on her tail, but she is fine,” Ilara says.

“Great, because I think this is a weird floor puzzle,” I say as we enter the next room. “I love weird floor puzzles. Almost as much as I love traps.”

“They’re a good test of one’s cleverness,” Ilara agrees. “Can Khajiit try?”

“By all means,” I say, standing back to watch. (After poking around through a bunch of urns to find anything of interest and winding up with an ancient recipe for kelp kaveh, whatever that is.)

The floor puzzle is like a game depicting what appears to be a thief and two guards. It takes Ilara a few tries before finding the trick of it and successfully unlocking the chest.

“Yes!” she exclaims. “Ilara-daro got it!”

After giving the chest a cursory inspection to make sure there’s no more obvious traps, I give Ilara the honors of opening it and retrieving a pendant with a large, pale gem from it.

When we get back up into town, we find Tulira, Shan-ra, and the Hollow Moon guy whose name I forgot speaking in the middle of town. Jode’s Chariot and the Hollow Moon have joined forces in their blatant bribery and also had supreme confidence in my ability to succeed. This would have been quite embarrassing for them had we wound up incinerated by traps.

Shan-ra is a big beige Khajiit almost as tall as an Altmer, standing on a platform that makes him look even taller than that. “So! Are you the ones Tulira and Valirr spoke of? Shan-ra hears you have something for me.”

“Ilara-daro here has it,” I say, gesturing to her.

Ilara offers Shan-ra the pendant, who takes it and gives a fanciful myth about how it was the tear of Jone, the Khajiit name for one of the moons (I’m not sure which one). Fortunately, this one is known to be just a myth, but what is it with people and improbable mineral tears, anyway? It would be uncomfortable to pass a rock out of my eyes, even if I were a moon god. I need to quit thinking about this.

“This is a princely gift, Ilara-daro!” Shan-ra says. “Such a prize deserves a reward, of course. What boon would you ask of me?”

“This one was in training to join the Thalmor when she decided to become an adventurer,” Ilara says. “She does not think they would be a good for Redfur. Not as they are. They wouldn’t understand what good the Hollow Moon are doing. They don’t really understand Khajiit, or even Bosmer for that matter, although they’re trying. Jode’s Chariot understands, but they don’t have the funding or authority to do what they need to.”

Shan-ra grins broadly at her words. “Tulira, Valirr, you are blessed by the moons to have found someone so skilled and loyal to help you. It would behoove Shan-ra to take her wise advice, yes?”

Everyone’s happy, so we meet back up with our friends, who Tulira informs us are at the stocks for some reason. With relief, I see that it’s because they’re turning in criminals, rather than being arrested.

“The innkeeper sent us to rescue his daughter, who he told us had been kidnapped by bandits,” Eran says. “We figured that would be a good thing to do while you two were playing with fire like lunatics.”

“How’d that go?” I ask, looking at the three prisoners who are being locked in a large cage.

“We were ambushed by bandits,” Merry grumbles. “Dumb bandits. There were only two of them and they insisted on attacking us anyway even though they could plainly see they were outnumbered.”

One of the dumb bandits in question has the good grace to look sheepish at that.

“We captured them and turned them in to the guards,” Gelur adds. “Along with the innkeeper, who was in on the racket and had gotten at least two people killed. Bastard.”

“The daughter got away, though,” Eran says. “After calling us ‘bleeding-hearts’ and telling her cohorts here to kill us and take our stuff.”

“Not to worry,” Tulira says. “Jode’s Chariot will keep an eye out for her. We’ve just gotten a step up with the help of your friends.”

“They made me do it, I swear!” says one of the Bosmer prisoners as he’s shoved into the cage along with the others.

“This one would have thought better of you, Nellor,” Tulira says. “You’ll get a fair investigation, but this does not sound good for you or your daughter. You always had the reputation of a fine, upstanding citizen. To think you abused everyone’s trust like that!”