Fear and Loathing in Vvardenfell

Gnaar Mok: Backwoods Fishin' Paradise

Gnaar Mok is a dump. Not even a city or town worth being put on a map. Seyda Neen was small and nearly worthless, but the Census and Excise Office gave the town something of note. Gnaar Mok? Nothing. Nothing at all to note. Walking up on the town gave the appearance that it was shit, and walking closer only confirmed it. Rotting wooden shacks attacked by years of dampness and mold, rusty nails trying valiantly to hold the soggy boards together despite the salt-water spray, and shoddy built roofs made out of leaves and muck in some vain attempt to waterproof the inside.

The smells matched the grim exterior of the 'town' as well. Gnaar Mok is a fishing village, and the scent of fish permeated the air just as thickly as the humidity and heat did. The pungent smell only became more oppressive as we approached the town.

Unsurprisingly, according to my map, Gnaar Mok is located on an island immediately next to the mainland of Vvardenfell, even if it is only separated by a few meters of waist deep water. I was expecting this and some bridge to span the gap, but was shocked to discover that the road connecting Gnaar Mok to the rest of Vvardenfell spanned the water over a few boards. You think I'm joking but I'm not. Four planks sat over the water which Pip and I precariously walked over to finally arrive in Gnaar Mok, the wonderful and picturesque fishing village that smelled like rotting fish, mold, and saline water.

The path turned southeast into the 'town' and surprisingly a real building, built in the typical House Hlaalu style ala Balmora, sat off to our right. 'Arenim Manor' the sign said as we passed it.

Gnaar Mok, the town itself, once again being gracious by even calling it a town, sits along a singular boardwalk and boat dock. The boardwalk juts out into a small bay, makes a ninety degree turn to parallel the shore with the dock on the opposite side, and then another ninety degree turn back to land. That's it. About eight shacks lined the boardwalk and there wasn't a shop, trader, armored, or anything to be found. People lived here, they fished, and that was all there seemed to be besides the fancy manor to the north.

We found a raggedy looking High Elf sitting along the boardwalk smoking a pipe and fishing and struck up a conversation with him trying to find out any information about Ilunibi.

"Hi mister elf guy," Pip said. The Altmer stood up, looked at us, took a puff from his pipe, and began coughing smoke and saliva all over us.

"Aww, shit! I'm sorry for that." He did seem genuinely sorry, although that didn't help us feel any better about what happened. "What can I do you two guys for? New to Gnaar Mok? Never sawed you here before, no, not before today. Right now: first time I sawed you. Must be some strangers around these parts?"

"Yesss. We look for Dagoth Gares."

"Dargoth hwat? Never heard of a place 'round here called dargoth-anything." He took another puff from his pipe, this time with no coughing or saliva ejected towards us.

"Excuse me, sir. My friend here lacks social skills, if you can believe it," I said. "Look, we're here on a mission of sorts, and...well, what can you tell us about Gnaar Mok? It sure looks like a cute and quaint little town."

"I don't know much about nothin' 'cept you're damn right about this being a cute town. Bunch of fancy Dunmer inland with their 'great houses' don't have no appreciation for the simple life. We here in Gnaar Mok, the good ole GM, we just like fishin'. And drinkin'. Mostly drinkin', but we also loves the fishin'. Some people likes the skooma but that's neither here nor there. Nope, ain't much to see around here besides swamps and shit. Mushrooms. Shit like that. But build yourself a little campfire, catch you some fish, maybe some mudcrab if that's to your likin', cook 'em up and chill. Know what I mean? Relax. That's how we do it here in the G-Mok."

"I'll certainly have to do that. Does that sound good, Pip?"

Pip looked confused. "Clyde, we kill Dagoth Gares. No relax, chill, no fish. Only kill."

"Okay, yeah, I know Pip. Relax." I turned back to our Altmer friend saying, "This is a nice place. Really. I come from Cyrodiil and we don't have anything like this there. Just big cities filled with yuppies that take everything too seriously."

"Ya don't say? That's a damn shame."

"Yes, it is. I'm actually here to write reports on Morrowind. Give the Imperials back home some insight into how life is in this province, among a few other tasks. I write for the Cryodillian General Times, have you heard of..."

The Altmer turned and violently spit off the side of the dock. "That paper!? You're damn right I've heard about that paper! I tell you what it is: it's fake news. I heard they be writing fake news about Vvardenfell, something about 'the blight' and 'corpus' and 'smugglers' but we ain't got no issues here. Look around," he moved his arms as if showing me the obviousness of it all, "ain't no blight here. No corpus. No smugglers. Just some gottdamn mudcrabs, fish, and 'shrooms."

"Why do you think they'd publish these fake stories?"

"Aww, it's just a ploy to make Morrowind look lawless. Like everything is fallin' apart over here. And ya know why?" I shook my head. "It's so the empire can lay down the law. Take over. Sure we're part of the empire here, but they don't have no influence over us. Damn Uriel tryin' to grasp Morrowind in his iron fist. We ain't havin' none of it. Fake news. It's a damn shame you have to work for that paper."

I wasn't sure how I felt knowing most of what he was bitching about were my own articles that had been recently published.

"So no blight or smugglers around here?"

"Nope. Nothing. Well, maybe we do have some smugglin' goin' on. Bunch of Imperial soldiers were here awhile ago asking the same questions. Talked to ole Anglalos who lives in that shack right there. Shit, nothing major going on over here. There's a cave up on the north of the island, we call it Ilunibi or somethin', people comin' and goin' in the odd hours of the night, probably a skooma den or somethin' but shit they leave us alone and we leave them alone. It's more of them Imperials making things seem like they're worse than they are. The iron fist I tell ya."

"We find Iliniubii, kill Dagoth Gares." Pip mumbled with some demented look in his reptilian eyes.

"Yes, I know." Turning back to the Altmer one last time I asked, "So, this cave, at the north end of the island? That way? Oh yes, we'll be sure to stay away from there. My friend and I just want to relax and fish, get away from the world, learn to relax. Thank you for your time, it's been interesting to talk with you. No thanks, we'll catch our own fish, we should be heading out now."