I’ve stolen some more clean and dry clothes from the Crosstree Bandits along the way as well as making sure I didn’t miss killing any.

I arrive at another moon sugar plantation, this one apparently called Laughing Moons. It seems like they grow more moon sugar around here than anything else. Do they just import all the grains and fruits to put it on? I’m sure I’d still eventually get sick of sugar all the time either way.

I approach one of the farmers who seems to be grumbling about problems. “Hello!” I exclaim. “Call me Neri. You have problems? Is it something I might be able to help with? Thunderbugs? Skeevers? Bandits? I’m very good at hitting things.”

“Can you do rats?” she asks me. “Juranda-ra is trying to get the farm ready for Thalmor inspection but rats have infested the fields ever since the storm blew in. We have some senche that are supposed to keep out vermin and discourage thieves but they have not been doing their job.”

“Rats, sure, why not,” I say.

There may have been a point where I would have thought exterminating rats was a job that was beneath me. I don’t remember. It was a long time ago, and I am not too proud to kill rats. These farmers will certainly be happy with me if I can help, and they might even pay me for it, too. Ah yes, the mighty Hortator, killing rats for coin.

“If the Thalmor get here and find out we have rats running around, they’d confiscate our goods or even shut us down. We’d be ruined! What if they decide to burn our farm to the ground like the one to the east?”

“Pretty sure the Thalmor weren’t the ones who burned down Speckled Shell Plantation,” I say. “If they were, they probably wouldn’t have offered to pay me for finding out what happened there. It was most likely arson, alright, but I suspect the Crosstree Bandits were involved.”

Why am I better at keeping my cover stories straight than remembering my own name? Right, it’s all those R’s and L’s that’s confusing. I miss my V. If I need to pick another fake name at some point I’m totally going to put a V in it.

“The Crosstree Bandits?” Juranda-ra says. “Oh, those skooma smugglers are a scourge upon this island.”

“They’ll probably be slightly less of a scourge for a while,” I say. “They just lost a number of their members and their leader. At least, I think Hazak was their leader. He sounded pretty important. Not very important now that he took a sword to his throat, though.”

“That is the first good news Juranda-ra has heard since the storm. Neri, if you would be good enough to check in on our senche and find our what’s wrong, Juranda-ra would be grateful.”

Juranda-ra directs me to one of the buildings where the senche are kept, whatever a senche is. I head over there to take a look aaaaand apparently senche are tigers. Very large cats walking on four legs rather than two, and with rather large fangs to match. Fortunately they also seem to be either very friendly or very lazy as they barely glance up at me when I enter the building.

“Do not worry, walker,” says a Khajiit inside the building. “These stupid, lazy senche are too stupid and lazy to hurt you right now even if they weren’t well-trained. Cinder-Tail is not amused.”

“What’s the problem?” I ask.

“This one told them not to eat the rats, but did they listen? Noooo…”

“I thought eating the rats was the whole point,” I say.

“The rats have been eating moon sugar,” Cinder-Tail says. “And if the rats have been eating moon sugar when the senche eat them, then the senche are also eating moon sugar. And moon sugar makes you sleepy if you eat too much of it, yes? And now these useless rugs want to do nothing but sleep. Especially Gobani here. Yes, you heard me, Gobani.”

One of the senche flicks an ear but otherwise doesn’t react.

“This would strike me as a real problem when trying to defend a moon sugar farm from vermin,” I say. “I’d suggest firing them or docking their pay and hiring some better guards and ratcatchers.”

“Hah! This one just might. Did you hear that, Afeh? Good luck finding a new job if you’re just going to lay down and roll over.”

Another senche buries his face in his paws.

“I could kill the rats for you in the meantime,” I say.

“You would not be able to fit that very large axe of yours inside their nests,” Cinder-Tail points out.

“Okay, I’d just need to get creative, then,” I say. “Let’s see. Can’t use poison since that might harm the crops. Unless you were really careful in selecting what substance to use, but no, that’s no good. Maybe I could burn them out? No, I’m not actually that good with fire magic and I don’t want to actually burn the farm down even if I could. Hmm…”

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

“What about thunderbugs?”

“They might be a bit big to fit down in the nests too but they could probably shock them even from the entrance,” I say. “I don’t fancy grabbing one and carrying it around, though. Not without a spell or item to protect me from being shocked myself. If I get shocked too many times I start twitching and people tend to think I’ve been doing skooma unless they’ve been standing there watching me punch thunderbugs in the face like an idiot. Or what passes for a face for them at least.”

“Hmm, no no,” Cinder-Tail says. “Carrying around a thunderbug would not do at all. But perhaps you could collect some of their eggs. Their tasty, tasty eggs. They will defend their nests but so long as you are carrying their eggs they will not attempt to harm you for fear of damaging them.”

“Wouldn’t they try to get them back?” I ask. “Are thunderbugs immune to their own electricity? Are their eggs?”

“Cinder-Tail has stolen their eggs before and can assure you that they will probably not go out of their way to attack you unless you get close to them.”

“So… just like normal, then,” I say. “Are their eggs electric?”

“If you throw one of them into a rat nest they would doubtless go into a frenzy and shock all the rats.”

“Okay, sure, I’ll defer to the expert in pissing off thunderbugs,” I say.

“Be sure to bring back extra!” Cinder-Tail adds. “We can have a nice dinner with them later.”

I agree to the plan and grab an empty basket from a nearby building, then go in search of thunderbug nests. It takes a bit to find one, and wind up having to kill a couple of thunderbugs just to get close enough to grab any of their eggs, but I manage to fill the basket right up with the glittery blue spheres. Now to see if this wild plan actually works. A couple thunderbugs trail after me but don’t attack as I trot back into the farm.

Once I’ve located one of the rat nests, I pull out one of the thunderbug eggs and lob it inside from a safe distance. Sure enough, a thunderbug runs up and proceeds to electrocute every rat nearby, scattering them and digging them out of the ground just to make sure they’re all dead. I can’t believe that actually worked. I’m going to need to remember that trick, in case I ever need to exterminate rats in an area with readily available thunderbugs. (I probably won’t.)

As I’m walking by working on tracking rats back to their nests, I notice a couple of high elves have arrived at the farm and are standing around looking imperious while Juranda-ra stalls them. Are those the Thalmor? I don’t know people’s uniforms well enough yet to recognize them on sight. It probably is, since she’s assuring them that they’ve called in a specialist to deal with the vermin. I’m a specialist now, apparently? That implies that I’m specializing in something, and not just solving literally every problem I stumble across while wandering around. Maybe that’s a specialist in problem solving.

I make another pass to ensure that I’ve gotten all the rats before returning to Juranda-ra carrying the basket of remaining eggs. I’d grabbed quite a lot of eggs.

“Neri, have you gotten all the rats?” Juranda-ra asks me.

“I think so,” I say. “I didn’t see anymore of them scurrying about at any rate. If any of them survived, they’d probably decided there are better places to be at the moment.”

“A creative use of the resources at hand,” the Thalmor inspector says. “I will make a note of it. What did you say your name was again? Neri?” He doesn’t even bother to give his own, so I don’t feel like giving him anything else.

“Will you be staying here long, Inspector?” Juranda-ra asks. “Shall we prepare you a place for dinner?”

“Ah, no, but thank you for the offer,” the inspector says.

“You sure?” I ask. “There will be thunderbug omelettes!” I hold aloft the nearly-full basket.

The inspector makes a horrified face that he quickly attempts to smooth into something a little more diplomatic. “I’m, ah, afraid that I will need to pass on that. Spicy food gives me indigestion.”

“Too bad,” I say. “I’m eager to try them! It’s so exciting going new places and eating new things.”

“As you say,” the inspector says graciously.

I pass the basket of thunderbug eggs along to Cinder-Tail before taking the inspector aside. “Excuse me, inspector…”

“Tarma,” he says.

“Inspector Tarma,” I go on. “I have a small question for you. Do you happen to know where I can learn a spell to… launder clothing? This island is making a veritable mess of my attire and it’s getting downright embarrassing.”

“You might try a Mages Guild in a city like Vulkhel Guard next time you find yourself in a more civilized part of the world,” Inspector Tarma says, leading me further away from the plantation and lowering his voice. “Clan Mother Juranda-ra called you Neri. Your name wouldn’t happen to be Neralion by chance, would it?”

“Yes, sir, that’s me,” I say.

“Officer Lorin informed me that you were at Speckled Shell Plantation, claiming to be an agent of the Queen,” Tarma says quietly. “And now you are here exterminating rats? I cannot imagine that Queen Ayrenn instructed you to deal with vermin.”

So the Queen is apparently named Ayrenn. Good to know!

I glance about quickly to make sure we’re unlikely to be overheard, and give him a cheeky grin. “Not in such specifics, no. But think about it. You come in here in uniform and they’re distrustful of you, right? But I came in here and helped them, so they’ll trust me now. They won’t be quite as on their guard about me. And coming back to eat dinner with them will give me a chance to get a closer look inside without arousing anyone’s suspicion.”

Tarma stares at me for a long moment. “I can see why you are the spy here, then. Very well. Carry on. I will be very interested to hear if you find out anything of note.”

Hah! I have not yet surrendered my throne as ruling king of guar shit! It’s good to know I’ve still got it. I never really needed the minor speechcraft enchantment on that ring I used to have, wherever it is now, even if it was a nice bonus.

Yeah, somebody’s totally gonna call me on my shit sooner or later. Fortunately I now know of a hidden base with some boats that nobody is using at the moment. And I probably don’t remember how to sail, if I ever knew. And I don’t know which direction the mainland is. I need a better plan. Hopefully Rurelion and Razum-dar can bail me out. But I’d be remiss if I didn’t have contingencies.

“Cinder-Tail!” I exclaim. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to teach me how to make your famous thunderbug omelettes?”