About this image

I bought several barrel-fulls of vampire dust from Elgrim's. "Not a problem, I'll get those delivered to you directly" he said. "Oh dear, I do hope" began Hafjorg when Elgrim cut her off "quiet woman! I'm doing business, can't you see?"

I should have known. This is what I get for trying to procure a "sustainable" ingredient. Next time, I'll be decimating the mudcrab population myself, with my own hammer. It's been over a week, and I'm still waiting for my package...

"Oh, the Dawnguard purged my usual supplier, so I had to send word to Angeline in Solitude" said Elgrim on Mondas.

"Oh right, Angeline's supplier got smoked too, so we're relying on Lami" said Elgrim on Middas.

"Right, you see, some adventurer purged the den Lami relied on, and made themselves a Thane in the process, so vampire dust is a bit scarce right now... but don't worry, I've procured a shipment from Cyrodiil" said Elgrim on Fredas.

"Well, it appears to be cheaper to ship the dust from the Imperial waterfront via the Niben and sail around the continent, rather than risk the passes of Bruma, so they shipped it. However a Bosmer ship ran aground near Leyawiin, and is blocking the river, so we'll just have to wait for the Duke to re-float it" said Elgrim on Sundas.

We're back on Mondays as of the past hour. It's been a full week of delays, and Elgrim just mumbled "off the boat, courier running here from Dawnstar" before shutting his door.

The Peryite plague is ravaging the Reach, and it's only a matter of time until the disease escapes those valleys and spreads. The Empire is mandating everyone carry cure disease potions, while the Stormcloaks yell "True Nords don't need magic potions! Fake Thalmor virus!", and die clutching amulets of Talos and praying to "Ulfric the Storm Bringer". And I'm just here, waiting for the Talos damned courier to deliver my Talos damned powder so I can make Talos damned potions to treat this Talos damned plague by pickpocketing Talos damned cures into people's Talos damned pockets !! For the love of Mara, Akatosh give me a fucking break here! It's not like Alduin nor I can even catch the damned plague ourselves...

"Hey, at least the weather's nice! Imagine if we were stuck in Windhelm?" Says Eric, "On top of the snow and horrible weather, the only apothecary is the White Phial, which is closed most days". He has a point, Nurelion is a terrible shop keep, and poor Quintus has to be in damage-control mode constantly. "Should we head to the inn? If we're gonna be waiting, might as well do that with a pint of Talen's racer!" Eric says with a wide grin.

He always prefers us visiting the Rift, and I can't blame him. The region is lovely, and we have a very good time at the Bee and Barb, trying Talen-Jei's bartending experiments. "Get Mjoll and Aerin to join us, the more the merrier!"  Mjoll and Aerin can certainly hold their liquor, and have fantastic tales to spin, from close encounters with mechanical foes, to court intrigue with unseen tongues... That said, there's more to Eric's excitement than just having good drinking buddies; his pulse is too quick, his adrenaline marginally above average, but heightened nonetheless; he sweats more. He might not be aware of it, but his body reacts to their presence, and I can smell it. Any other werewolf could. I can't tell if its Mjoll or Aerin who's caught his eye. Perhaps its both...? He should act on that, before plague snatches his opportunity away. Maybe I should invite good old Sam G. to join us, and help move stuff along? That would be fun, and I certainly need a distraction...

Where in Oblivion is that Talos damned courier !?