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Going into the world and spreading merriment
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"...you don't remember? I suppose you did sound pretty drunk, but..." Sigh. "You were desperate for a wedding ring on short notice, but you didn't have coin to pay for it right then. Now, I don't usually sell things on credit, but you were clearly so in love, telling stories of how you wanted to propose to her where you met her, in Witchmist Grove..." She narrows her eyes again and continues, more sharply, "But it seems to me something about that story was lacking, wasn't it?"

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What in Magnus's name.

"...the engagement fell through," he says, which is... not... not true. Or it will be not not true when he goes to Witchmist Grove to figure out what in Magnus's name.

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She immediately softens. "Oh no! Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that, what happened?"

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"It's... complicated." That's the rhyme of this story isn't it. "I... found out some things... It feels as if I don't even know her anymore." Understatement.

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"...oh. Oh dear. That... I'm really, truly sorry."

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"Yeah." Sigh. "So... no wedding, I guess. I'm sorry for wasting your time, I'll return with the ring as soon as I can."

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"I suppose it can't be helped. I was truly looking forward to it, I've never been to Morvunskar but from what you've told me it sounds like a lovely place to have a wedding at. And I have to admit I was curious about this mysterious staff you mentioned which would be able to take care of all the guests, you said I wouldn't need to worry about the trek there at all."

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Did he, now.

"I confess I'm surprised that you're so nonchalant about magic."

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"Oh, well, not all Nords are like that, you know. It's hypocritical, really, when you think about it, how much Nords rely on enchanted equipment and potions which come from mages but then condescend so much. Me, I see magic as a tool; a powerful one, yes, but only as bad as whoever wields it."

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He smiles. "A sensible philosophy.

"Anyway, I'll get going but I promise I'll come back with your ring. If I don't, uh..." He fetches his book of Conjure Ethereal Horse from his pouch. "This should sell for quite a penny. It's the College's, but the only situation I can see myself not coming back here is if something happens to me so you can use it as insurance."

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"...that's very generous of you. Well, thank you, and, um, good luck with whatever it is you're going through."

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"Yeah, thanks."

He goes to find someone else who can tell him where the fuck Witchmist Grove and Morvunskar, and he once again has to boggle at the distance he somehow covered overnight.

Map of the Trip

Eastmarch!!! How did he go to Eastmarch and fall in love and plan a wedding—no, you know what, fuck it. He's done freaking out about this. There's some crazy shit happening, he knows this already, he'll just... deal. He'll deal.

To fucking Witchmist Grove that's like a whole goddamn week away—less, with his magic horse, but still—and then Morvunskar, which apparently is a fort, why did he want to get married in a fort, what did he tell Ysolda Morvunskar was, certainly not a fort, unless it's a very very pretty fort.

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"Hey, Ruby," Ysolda calls him as she spots him while he's making his way out of the city.

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"—hi."

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"I meant to ask and forgot, how did you deal with the Valtheim Towers?"

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"...the who now."

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"Oh, maybe you detoured around them? The Towers are a fort between Whiterun and Eastmarch and they were taken by bandits recently."

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"...where, exactly, are these Towers?"

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She points them out on his map.

Map
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"...there's a fort right in the middle of the main road between Whiterun and Eastmarch and it was taken by bandits? Isn't that... absolutely terrible for travelers and trade?"

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"Yeah, it's why I asked. I think most people detour around it or just pay the exorbitant toll."

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"How did that happen?"

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Shrug. "My guess is, it's not obviously either Whiterun's or Windhelm's responsibility, and with the civil war they've sort of withdrawn their guard and now..."

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"The... civil war."

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She gives him a funny look. "Have you been living under a rock?"

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