Hess stood on tip-toe, leaning over the rim of a massive muck sponge. Being only 5'6, the tubular sponges that grew along the Morrowind coast could at times dwarf even herself. The sleeves of her soiled work tunic had been shoved back, to little effect. Muck still splattered her arms, her sleeves, and the front of her tunic as Hess pulled back with a handful of the wet, viscous brown matter and plopped it into a large redware pot. Her nose wrinkled in disgust as the Khajiit surveyed the stinking mess on her clothes. Muck harvesting was a nasty business, which was exactly why she had been assigned to do it. Mistress Lyrilequen and Master Nagariel had not come from the Summerset Isles to be muck farmers.

Hess wondered which fact would be most abhorrent to Nagariel's family back in the Isles: That he'd never risen beyond the station of a simple apothecary, or that he'd sired a child with his Khajiit slave. Probably the latter, if anyone had known about it.

She shook her arms and then her shirt, flinging muck onto the wet sand with a series of small plops, and leaned down stiffly to grab the handles of the collection pot. As much as she disliked the stinky muck, it felt nice to get away from the house and Lyrilequen's constant badgering.

Muck was one of the local ingredients necessary for disease cures, and one of Nagariel's most popular potions. In a frontier town like Tel Mora such potions were essential. Even the paupers would forego meals and shoes to afford them. It was guaranteed income, so Hess had to bear the indignity of fishing around inside muck sponges and scraping lichen from dank walls if she wanted to earn her keep in the household.

Hefting the pot of muck by its handles at either side, Hess stepped off the tiny island and onto the surface of the sea, walking across the rippling surface as if it were glass. Slaughterfish, with their ugly bulging eyes and gaping maws of crooked teeth swarmed at her heels but lost interest when they realized the Khajiit was beyond their reach. A water-walk ring was a requirement, not a luxury in this line of work, and every time Hess thought longingly of running away across the sea to some better life, she would sigh and remember that this ring had a very weak charge. It wouldn't be long before she went plummeting down to a watery grave.

The region around Tel Mora, dubbed Azura's Coast by the locals, was a maze of inlets, islands and sandbars. The Emperor Parasol mushrooms did not grow so large here, as they did in other areas of Morrowind – perhaps they disliked the salt. Instead, rock formations that looked like stagmites rose from the sea to break the horizon. Cliff racers glided along the coast, watching the waves with vigilance and occasionally dipping down to snatch up a fish in their long beaks.

Hess was panting by the time she reached the house at the outskirts of town, the muscles in her arms burning from carrying that heavy pot. Carrying it all the way from a nearby island was a bit much for her. She was short and pear shaped, and had perhaps inherited some of the delicacy of her father's people. Like everyone born of a Khajiit mother she was bound to the lattice, but the truth of it was that the tousle of blonde hair atop her head was not common among Suthay-rahts. It was naturally wavy and always a frizzy mess due to the moisture of Tel Mora, just like Master Nagariel's. The Altmer waxed his ear-length hair back when he knew he was going to be seen by someone important, but could not afford to do so daily. Hair wax would never have been wasted on a slave like Hess at all.

Other than the blond hair, the Khajiit was a calico as ordinary as any other. White on her limbs, underbelly, and much of her face, while her backside was mostly ginger chaotically flecked and slashed with black. The coloration on her face was reminiscent of a mask that covered only her eyes and ears, and it was almost solid ginger except for a huge splotch of black on the left side, encompassing one hazel eye. That black spot was the reason for her name – hess, in Aldmeris, meant 'ink.' In spite of the messy colors she was comely enough, with a delicately narrow muzzle and soft cheekbones.

Living here, she was afforded a lovely view of the coast and the sea. It was a peaceful life, she supposed. A bit lonely. The walls of her little room in the fungal pod-house were always damp, which made them susceptible to mold. She'd been assured that this dampness was normal and even healthy for the fungus in which they lived, but that didn't make it any more comfortable.

Hess paused at the base of the staircase, setting the heavy pot on the spongy ground and heaving with her hands on her knees as she fought to catch her breath. The sun was beginning to set and some of her neighbors were returning home from their own workdays. Hess shot up straight at the sound of footsteps, nonchalantly glancing around to see who it was. She didn't want anyone to see her huffing and puffing; it would be no good for the neighborhood to gossip about Lyrilequen's overworked slave.

But it wasn't anyone she knew, just a traveler passing by. Hess released the pent up breath she'd been holding and reached down to pick up her pot again, groaning under her breath as she hauled the thing up the short flight of stairs. The steps in Telvanni style towns were treacherous, nothing more than thin little resin coated root-stalks with too much space between them. They felt firm under her paw, but she fully expected one of them to snap any day now and send her tumbling to her death.

Hess unlocked the door with another ring, this one attuned to the lock spell on the door. It was difficult to do with the heavy pot in both hands; she was forced to shift it so that it rested against her forearm while she moved her fingers just so to discharge the magicka in the ring. Even as she pushed into the room she heard Lyrilequen's shrill voice ring out from deeper in the house:

"If you track muck on my carpets you'll be washing them before bed tonight! Make sure those filthy paws of yours are clean before you come in!"

"Yes Mistress!" Hess chirped, backing out a step to wipe her paws on the topmost rung of the staircase, still cradling the pot against her chest.

- - - - - - -

OOC Information:

- - - - - - -

Hello! Today I'm itching for a cute little romance story (action/adventure elements welcome as well) set in The Elder Scrolls lll: Morrowind. I'm also open to other settings. (Sorry in advance but I'm not interested in roleplays based on Skyrim or ESO!)

This prompt is a suggestion; I can be flexible about plot, location, my character's personality, physical attributes, etc. For your character, my “type” that I'm most attracted to are men with average bodies in the 40-60 age range. I greatly enjoy realistic characters who feel like ordinary people, who have their own flaws, insecurities, and even problematic beliefs.

I prefer to reply more than once a day. 2-3 replies per day would be ideal, but I understand life gets in the way. I usually write 2-5 paragraphs, or 150-450 words per post. This starter is much longer than my typical post length, but my lengths vary according to need. If I'm introducing a new character or setting a scene, my post might go up to 1,000 words. I am looking for a partner whose writing is about as detailed as mine.

Please send a writing sample if you have none in your post history. No need to custom write anything for me, old samples are fine. Click here to PM me!