I have a feeling that will be explained via the platter as well, Steve. I do say that this conclusion is going to be epic though. Epic as... "Epic Movie" Just kidding. It's much, MUCH better than that terrible film.

YES!!!! So I haven't turned into some conspiracy theory nutjob. My faith in myself is restored.

Though you still tricked me I notice. Everyone assumed it would be Fyr he was sneaking up on

All the ends starting to come together now. Bring on the pointy teeth to ruin Helseth's day



Hm, I think I've figured that one out now. I think. Just to be on the safe side, I'm not going to sprout any more theories...

Helseth had no idea what caused it, but he knew it would not be good. All around him the sky had continued to darken until no part of the sun could be seen. Helseth still had the amulet of night eye he’d been given that night when he was in Balmora, and he activated it’s magic. What he saw did not make him happy.

Most of his army was as good as blind; the fighters guild members who had just before been rushing towards the Telvanni were now stumbling over each other, giving the Telvanni the chance to focus their energy on combating the mages guild. The Ashlanders and slaves seemed to have lost interest in the battle, as they were slowly moving back. Most Indoril were still able to see though, so Helseth’s Indoril were following the Ashlanders and slaves. Helseth wanted to curse at them;- didn’t they realize they were breaking up the line doing that?

The Hlaalu and Camonna Tong for the most part appeared to be fine, at least fine as in being able to see their enemy. They were still being defeated by Drulvan’s Indoril but at least they could see their killers.

A loud noise to the far right rose up into the dark. Helseth assumed the fighters guild had once again found the Telvanni, but when he looked that way he still saw them slowly advancing. Further to the right, however, he saw the mercenary cavalry. Like the fighters guild, most of them had not been prepared for the darkness, nor did they have very many night eye spells available to them, leaving them with but a small ability to see. But Helseth now saw the source of the noises.

People were running among the horses, people with short blades making fast deadly strikes to the horsemen. Those people were jumping unnaturally high, or even suspended in the air. It was a slaughter and Helseth knew at once what he saw. Vampires. Somehow, after all his preparation and all his efforts to make sure the vampires could not play a part in this, Drulvan and Baladas had outsmarted him. Some powerful magic had been responsible for this darkness, and it made Helseth feel very edgy.

Fortunately though, the Dres were still there. Loyal, well prepared Dres. Not one of them had come to the battle without means to protect themselves against magic, to see in the dark, and even to fly away if outnumbered. Helseth turned to the viceroy but he didn’t even have to say a word. The viceroy simply nodded at him, turned away and signalled his herald to blow the signal for attack.

Regardless of this surprise, Helseth’s army was still in far greater numbers then the Telvanni even without the Dres, but now with the Dres throwing their weight into the battle, a total victory was assured. Helseth smiled. But that smile soon became a frozen rictus. Something was wrong.

Helseth could not believe it. The Dres had advanced alright, but when they came to the rear of the Hlaalu, Mages guild and Indoril forces, they had attacked them instead. They were attacking Helseth’s army! He had been betrayed!

Just as Varvur found himself thinking the city was doomed, he saw spears being thrown, and arrows loosed, and the Dres warriors took a fighting stance, but what amazed him was that the spears and arrows were not aimed at the city, but rather at the advancing army. The Dres were helping the Telvanni. They had betrayed the Hlaalu. Why would they do such a thing? What had appeared a sure victory before for the Hlaalu would turn out to be a crushing defeat.

The image faded, and all he could see now was a normal steel tablet. He looked questioningly at lord Nerevar.
“Yes, you assume correctly. The Dres chose to change sides. But come, let’s sit down for a moment, and have a drink, you’ve travelled a long journey this past month and I’m sure there are many questions you wish to ask me. You can do that.”

Together they went to the room where only moments ago, Varvur had been planning an attack. They sat down, and lord Nerevar poured a drink and gestured or Varvur to ask his questions.

“My lord, I, I don’t understand any of this, how can you be alive? I saw you die. And how could you be in league with the Telvanni? And lord, you did magic; you’ve never done magic. What is going on?”

“So many questions. Well I guess I will start with what happened, and then I’ll tell you why it happened. If after that you are left with more questions, please ask them.”

“Right then, let’s start off with what happened that evening. You were right; one of the servants was in on this. The servant that was staying at the Six Fishes, to all eyes he appeared to be a Breton, but in fact he was Argonian. It was Vistha-Kai, magically transformed to appear to be a Breton. It’s a funny thing, this magic; there’s so much one can do when one is creative. I modified a chameleon spell to not make someone reflective and thus invisible, but instead to appear to be a different shape. Vistha-Kai became my servant just days before the council meeting. He convinced his brother to send in the Jester at the right time and provided you with a “killer” by running away and not being there when you questioned the servants. As to my juice, what was in it? Nothing. It was just very good comberry juice.”

“I wasn’t actually poisoned at any time, I simply used my magic to appear dead. My body was brought downstairs and laid on top of the Imperial Altar. When everyone had gone I got up, and opened the secret door there. Vistha-Kai was waiting for me on the other side of the door with the body that would become mine. I undressed myself, put all the clothes on the other body, and then used magic to alter his appearance to match my own. Who was the man, you might wonder? A Legion deserter who not only deserted, but also stole the Lords Mail from the Legion. I had found him quite a while ago and was given the mail as a reward for killing him by Varus. I lied to him about one thing though, telling him the body was gone. I hid it knowing I might someday have use for it.”

“So, we placed the fake body on the altar, closed the secret door, made sure all of our traces in the sand were gone and then we went our separate ways. I used a spell of recall to transport straight into Tel Fyr, while Vistha-Kai swam down to the secret exit of the caves, took a boat and travelled with it to Omayni where he burned the boat. He then used an amulet to recall back here, though he mentioned he was worried if he might not have left some footprints there.”

Just as well too I'd half figured it out, though I was wrong about the body at the funeral... Changing the effects of a chameleon spell eh? Very clever indeed.

It unfolds. And quite spectacularly. All that remains is to know why dres changed sides, and why nerevar faked his death. Great stuff, this really is very good.

This post has been edited by Olen: Mar 20 2008, 11:25 PM

Helseth just stood there for seconds, for minutes, it might have been half an hour, looking on as the drama unfolded. It soon became clear, without the Dres, Helseth’s army did not stand a chance, and with the Dres helping their enemy, Helseth and what remained of his army were doomed.

Helseth thought back to that moment this morning when he had sent the few bodyguards he’d taken with him on the campaign back to Mournhold to announce his victory and prepare for his triumphant return. Looking back it had been a rash decision and very premature.

He slowly turned around to look at the viceroy. He wanted to ask him why, he wanted to run at him and cut his throat out, but guards had already positioned themselves between Helseth and the viceroy.

The Gahprovihn of house Indoril was shouting, Helseth hadn’t even heard it until now, screaming at the viceroy to call off his troops. Calling him a traitor, then pleading with him to spare his life. The viceroy just stood there and listened, remaining perfectly still until he turned to one of his guards. Unspoken words passed and the guard nodded. He took several steps towards the Gahprovihn, and rather then grab his sword, he instead slowly took off his helmet.

Beneath it was Drulvan Vules. Drulvan, one of the main leaders of the rebellion, right there in Helseth’s camp. Helseth wanted to shout for guards to take off his head, but of course there were no guards loyal to him left. The Gahprovihn looked like he’d just wet himself, he looked at Drulvan, looked into his eyes and cowered onto his knees.

“Please don’t kill me, Drulvan. Please spare me. I’m too young to die. Please don’t harm me.”

Pathetic, Helseth thought, a Gahprovihn clutching at someone’s leg begging him not to kill him, that was another first for proud house Indoril.

Drulvan apparently shared his thought, for he roughly dragged the Gahprovihn back to his feet.
“Get up Meven, and die like a Mer.”

The Gahprovihn burst into tears at that, and really did wet himself then. Helseth saw Drulvan turn his head in disgust, but not for long. He turned back, drew his blade and, without any ceremony, pierced Meven’s heart.

Helseth looked down, lying there was Meven Aravel, who just before had been Gahprovihn of house Indoril, now he was dead and just Meven again. He looked back up and at Drulvan.

“If you’re here, then who did I see leading your Indoril?” Helseth heard himself ask,

“Endris Dilmyn. Most reliable and fortunately, with my armor on, a spitting image of me,” came the short reply.

A dark voice giving Helseth the creeps suddenly spoke; “It’s over, we know who you are.”

Helseth turned and looked at the viceroy. The voice, however, wasn’t even close to the voice of the viceroy. It was the voice of a woman, and yet it wasn’t. Somehow it sounded very old, and mysterious. The reason for that soon became clear when the viceroy took off his helmet.

It wasn’t the viceroy at all, but rather a very old looking Dunmer Vampire.

“I am Dhaunayne Aundae,” Helseth heard her say, and realised his mistake then. For centuries rumors had been floating around Morrowind about involvement of Vampires within house Dres, but Helseth had never found any proof for this, so he choose to ignore it. How wrong he was.

“I’ll assume my friend the viceroy has been killed then for siding with me?”

“On the contrary,” Dhaunayne replied, “he did everything he did on orders from me. He’s sitting at Tear right now, having completed one of his most important assignments. During the night, he and a number of elite guards broke into the palace at Mournhold and rescued her highness, your mother Barenziah and escorted her to Tear where she is beyond your influence.”

Helseth found it hard to think right now; everything he’d worked so hard for had come crumbling down. So many months spent perfecting the potion that kept Barenziah docile, also for nothing. Looking down at the battlefield, he saw his army was being decimated. He did not expect more then a score of men to survive.

Well, only three more updates left after this one I just made, it contains the answer to this, and a few extra's in it But I'm saving that for tomorrow.




More you ask? Yes, I'm not entirely through with my surprise twists and turns

Damn, now that's some excellent planning by the Telvanni and company. They basically countered everything Helseth had planned for them! Spectacular!

Varvur considered all that he’d heard. “But then, why take the trouble of the boat? Why not simply vanish without a trace?”

“Because, my good Varvur, of two things. First, I wanted to steer things away from magic as much as possible. If you’d suspected the Telvanni, you might never have done the things you did. And second, to get you to Omayni.”

“So Mallam Ryon and his wife were your doing?” Varvur asked.

Yes, both of them are members of house Telvanni. They owed me a favour, so I asked them to go undercover in house Redoran, and be there to help you once you arrived. I needed to buy some time, and a sleeping draught always works nicely, I think.”

“Anyway, from there you went to the Morag Tong, again a logical choice. I knew the Morag Tong would never try and harm me, because I paid them not to. I paid them both with money, and with an ancient artefact, nearly priceless. Eno mentioned to me that he saw you looking at it. I gave it to Eno along with quite a bit of money, and in return I got a good night’s sleep each night, never needing to worry about someone stabbing me in my bed.”

“Eno sent you to Belwen, who really was a Dark Brotherhood assassin, a ranking one even. Yes, he did have that explosive device in his home, but I’d already been there myself, the night before, to disarm it. His only choice was going for the crossbow as the option of blowing you both up was useless. And I knew you’d be able to fend off a crossbow. As to the note you found, it was almost identical as the one Lucien really did send, with one important change- in the original note the name Fafnir was not present.”

“So then you went to the Imperial City, met an old friend of mine, two of them actually, and were given a quest. That was the goal in case you’re wondering, you accepting that quest. For how can Cyrodiil survive without a hero?”

“That was what I did, now on to the reason I did it. Do you know what I was called before I became lord Nerevar? Relien Geles. That was the name I took when I came to Nirn. I was sent to Morrowind by the Emperor because he thought I might match some ancient legend. Well, apparently I did. When I first got here, the temple did everything it could to stop me from succeeding, even going so far as to proclaim me an outcast. I felt very alone, very helpless. But all that changed when I first came here, to Tel Fyr. Divayth cured me of a horrible disease, and gave me immortality in the process. He also found a power inside me, found I could do magic more and better then perhaps anyone he’d ever met, including himself. He worked with me to develop that talent, and while we were doing that we grew very close. He saved my life, and then saved me again. He showed me that many ideas men and Mer have are based on nothing. Rules for the sake of rules is what he calls them. And I’ve since learned to look beyond a rigid rule, to what it actually stands for.”
“What do you mean?” Varvur asked.

“Let me give you an example. A common rule is, Vampires are evil and need to die. But why are Vampires evil? They are what they are, they often did not choose to become Vampires but rather were made unwillingly. So does that mean they’re evil? Is an Argonian a slave simply for being an Argonian? Or is he a slave because someone made him that way? And isn’t one rule that slaves are inferior to us? But then why would you speak nicely to an Argonian when you pass him in the street, yet look down on him when you see him slaving away on a plantation? I can think of a few hundred thousand Argonians back in Black Marsh who would have a very pointed answer to that.”
“One truth I learned, is this we are defined, not by our upbringing, ancestry or appearance, but rather by our actions.”

“I learned all sorts of things about the so-called truths of this world, and knew I at least would strive to be better. I went out and found all the Houses and the Ashlander tribes, becoming Hortator and Nerevarine. And then I came to Ghostgate, where I met Wulf- again, the same Wulf you met in the Tiber Septim hotel. We spoke, and like he did for you, he gave me some very good advice for latter years. So I took his coin, made him a promise and set out to find Dagoth Ur. I found the artefacts, came to Dagoth Ur and there he was, ready to share his empire with me, or so he said. And all I would have to do was bend the knee, grovel and worship him. I did not think that was a good idea, so I firmly refused him, and I guess in the end, he saw my point.”

“Then came Helseth, sending his assassins after me, trying to force me to see things his way. And then of course Almalexia, who offered me divine power, and all I had to do for it was bow to her, and worship her, and kill Vivec for her. So I killed her. And then I went to Vivec, and he proclaimed me his brother, and told me I could rule all of Morrowind, if I left Vvardenfall to him to do with as he pleased. And I killed him as punishment for his crimes. And then when the temple found out I’d killed two thirds of their Tribunal, they offered me Vivec’s palace, and lordship and dominion over all, and all I’d need to do was be their living icon, and bless them and say what a good job they’d been doing. Well, I didn’t kill them, but I did refuse them. And made my own changes as I saw fit.”

“Do you know what Wulf told me, Varvur? He told me that he’d looked into my future, and had seen me abolish slavery, and he also told me that exactly one week to the day after I did it, I was slain by my own men, my own trusty Indoril followers. You see, Varvur, in a way I had little choice, it was either kill myself, or be killed. At least I got what I wanted. Slavery is gone, and the new great Ghostfence is coming along nicely. Next year, when the Imperials look east towards Morrowind, all they will see is a Ghostfence.”

“Who was Wulf?”

“He was a god, Tiber Septim, he who became Talos. And the favour he wanted from me was you. He wanted me to make sure you wound up in the Tiber Septim hotel, on that day you did. And fortunately everything worked out nicely.”

Hehe. You know what phrase just popped into my head?


SEQUEL!!!!!!


Not that I would complain at that in the slightest

Two more posts to go? Goody, this has been a great story all the way through!

Well, I don't want to make any promises I won't be able to keep, but as I mentioned to you ( ) I have been penning down quite a few ideas already for a sequel to this, and the first chapter has been written already. So if I get around to it, and have as much inspiration for it as I did for Morrowind, then there will be an "Oblivion"

YES!!!
And will there be Varvur, heading the whole story!
one can only hope.
A question that's been pestering after we figured out Lord Nerevar was alive was answered. I was wondering why he did all this and this seems to me to be the answer!

Brilliant story, from start to finish I must say, and such a breeze to read. It seems as if you began this story only yesterday, that's how quickly things went. Great work!

And if you mean to write an Oblivion story, all the better! Despite how cliché Oblivion's story is, I'm sure you can make a knock-out story out of it.

“Why, why did you do this, Dhaunayne? I could have given you half of Morrowind, if only you had come to me.”
“No, I would not side with you. I once saw your father from afar, and foresaw the horror he would try to bestow upon the land. I could not stop him, but when I saw you, the real you, I vowed to stop you.”

“But, what do you mean Dhaunayne? Symmachus was a great man, a general, he died serving Morrowind.”

“He was and he did, but as we both know, he was not your father. Just as we both know you are not Helseth.”

Helseth looked shocked at that. “What do you mean, Dhaunayne? I am Helseth Hlaalu, your rightful king.”

“No…. Jagarn. Like the man after whom you were named , you are but an impostor skilled at Illusion.”

Drulvan backed up. Lord Nerevar had told him the truth that day when he visited with Divayth Fyr, but Drulvan had not been prepared for what he beheld. Where just a moment before Helseth had stood, now stood the oddest, ugliest creature he had ever seen. He was short, as short as a Bosmer, but his skin was discoloured. Three different colors were mingled together, the bright color of an Altmer, the darkness of a Dunmer and the fair color of a Breton or Imperial. The pupils of his eyes were red but they had a blue-ish glow in the middle. His hair was short and dirty, as was his skin. He was dressed in rags and wasn’t even wearing shoes. It really was not a pretty sight to behold, and when it spoke, the sound was hoarse and unpleasant.

“How did you know?”

“I’ve taught myself long ago to see through such spells, Jagarn, and I was not alone. Lord Nerevar and Divayth Fyr both saw it too. Though it takes one of great power to see it.”

“I came so close. I had everything ready, the ultimate revenge on my awful mother.” He spat that last word with the deepest contempt. “She never loved me.”

“Sadly, you are wrong, Jagarn.”

“Am I? Am I now?” Jagarn exclaimed. “She sent me away; she sent me to live with peasants, farmers; she wanted nothing to do with me. First she provided the means for that dreadful hero to kill my father, and then she abandoned me, his son.”

“For years I was raised among those farmers. They could not teach me magic, could not teach me anything. Each time I came into a room, they would look at me with disgust in their eyes, and whenever I performed a feat of the magic that came so easily to me, Illusion magic, they forbade it and sometimes even beat me. They did not teach me how to read, or write. I had to learn all of that on my own.”

“All the children of the village would make fun of me, of how I looked, and never could I do anything against them. All of them were larger and stronger then me, I was but a helpless puppet in their eyes. And the other grownups, they were the worst, they even encouraged their children to call me names, and throw rocks at me, and beat me. And never was I allowed to use my magic against them or the farmer or his wife would beat me.”

“So I vowed to take revenge on the woman who put me there. I taught myself to read and write, found out everything I could about the one who put me there, and learned it was Barenziah. Barenziah, beloved queen of Wayrest and then Morrowind. I vowed to take everything from her, so she would feel what I had felt.”

“So one day, I killed the people caring for me, and I killed all those who had once harmed me in that village. I didn’t do it myself though, I simply set them to kill each other; using magic, I had them kill each other. And then I came to Morrowind, sought out Helseth when he was staying as a guest of the old king, and killed him. Then I took his place, and, well, the rest you know.”

“Poor Jagarn. You are wrong you know. Barenziah did not send you away because she hated you; she did not send you away to be rid of you, no. Barenziah sent you away because she was trying to protect you.”

“Nonsense!” Jagarn interrupted “She never cared one bit for me.”

“Again, you’re wrong. Picture the situation. Your father, Jagar Tharn had just been destroyed by the eternal champion. Things were just quieting down. How do you think the nobles at Wayrest would respond knowing you were the son of someone they had spent so long fighting? Do you think they would have just embraced you? No, they would have wanted you dead.”

“And look at you. Everyone knows how Jagar looked; everyone would have been able to see the resemblance. Even if Barenziah had made up a story about you, it would just have been a matter of time before people found out the truth, and would have had you killed anyway.”

Jagarn looked confused. Could this be true, could Dhaunayne be telling the truth? But what then of his feelings all these years, his hatred, could everything he had thought he knew been a lie?

“An old friend of mine watched that day as Barenziah gave you to the farmer and his wife for safe keeping, she told me of how Barenziah wept, she came very close to never letting you go, but she knew, if she wanted to save your life that she had to give you up.”

“She did the best she could, a small town, in the middle of nowhere, with very few people there, little realization of important things that happened in the empire, illiterate people to make sure they never found out who you really were. Children were cruel to you, but children are always cruel. They get cured of that when they grow up, or turn into people like your father.”

“Did you know Jagarn, that Barenziah came to the farm many times during those first few years? She simply could not bear being without you and wanted to see for herself that you were still well. She could not come when you were older, because seeing her might tell you things she did not want you to know, it hurt her very much, not being able to come visit you. But for your sake, she made the hard choices.”

Jagarn felt awful. As he listened he slowly came to realise it had to be true. Those few conversations he’d had with Barenziah, when she thought he was Helseth. She had been so full of love, had never wanted to believe her son had done such awful things, but all the while he had been blind to it; his hatred had blinded him.

“You know Jagarn, I‘m convinced, even if you were to go to Barenziah now, and show true remorse, she would find it in her heart to forgive you, she’s a good Mer, a far better person then any of us and someone we can look up to. Why not try it, Jagarn? Try it and see how she responds.”

Jagarn was torn; all these years he had felt left out, all these years he’d felt unloved, unwanted, scorned, and now, all of that had been a lie? Had he lied to himself for all these years? Thinking what he wanted to think, believing what he wanted to believe? Even now, could things really become better? Having a real mother in his life, someone who cared for him, who trusted him, a family. But no, he’d killed his brother, his brother who had never done anything to him and he killed him. And others as well, all those lives gone. All the damage he’d done, how could he ever live with that, knowing it had all been for nothing? For a lie.

“No! No, this cannot be, this simply cannot be! You lie, now prepare to die!”

And, with a shout, Jagarn threw himself at Dhaunayne. Drulvan never forgot the look on Dhaunayne’s face: pity, sorrow, regret all mixed in one. She moved swifter then the eye could behold and Helseth, or rather Jagarn, stopped dead in his tracks.

Dhaunayne was holding something in her hand, holding it out for Jagarn to see. Jagarn looked at it, then looked down at his chest, and a look of gratitude crossed his face as he fell down.

Dhaunayne was also looking at her hand. She held the still beating heart of Jagarn, blood dripping down onto the ground. Jagarn’s body lying in front of her. She sighed and spoke to Drulvan,

“Lord Nerevar made it clear, had Jagarn truly shown the will to surrender and face judgement, he would have lived. In prison, but lived anyway. If he resisted, death was to be his punishment.”

“Why do you think he choose death?” Drulvan asked.

“Sometimes, the idea of living in knowledge of what you’ve done is more of a fear than the unknown. I fear that Jagarn chose to die, rather then having to truly consider his life so far had been a lie and all the implications that brings with it.”

Varvur had two more questions; “Why the Ghostfence, and where will you go?”

“Well the Ghostfence will be there to ensure Morrowind will be ruled by Dunmer, now and forever. A very wise man once said; “The only sovereign we can allow to rule us is reason.’ I think no one could have said it better. Now that doesn’t mean I wish to isolate Morrowind, I just want to make sure no outside influence will ever again interfere with us.“

“As for what I am going to do, I will make one more appearance as lord Nerevar, before your father, explaining what I just told you and erasing any dishonour you might still have clinging to you. And forge an everlasting alliance between the Dres, Telvanni Redoran and the honourable Indoril. And then, lord Nerevar will truly die, and Archmagister Gelen will emerge.”

“Barenziah will be crowned queen, and will rule Morrowind from Tear, until the Indoril have purged themselves of corruption. Once that happens Barenziah might return to Mournhold. But for the coming time, the Ghostfence will be there to separate Morrowind from it’s surrounding provinces, and the Hlaalu and corrupt Indoril will find themselves surrounded by the Redoran to the west, Dres to the south and Telvanni and honourable Indoril to the east. They will have no choice but to reform their ways, either that or perish.”

“But what about Helseth, why did he cause so much suffering?” asked Varvur.

“King Helseth, as so much else, was not who he appeared to be. He was an impostor, but I sense his life has been ended. He will not trouble us again.” Lord Nerevar replied. “Now Varvur, I hope that answers your questions.” Varvur nodded, “good, for we have quite a journey ahead of us today. First we need to visit your father at Blacklight and explain recent events to him, and then I believe you have some business left to attend to in Cyrodiil do you not?”

“Yes, you are right Archmagister, I have a promise to keep.”

The End.

And so it ends. Several weeks of chewed fingernails, attempted plot unravelling (usually when I was supposed to be working ) devious characters...

Seems a shame it's finished to be honest. Wha a ride though. Exciting, tense, creative... I loved every second of it. Well, with one possible exception. Now it's over, I think you and I need to talk about your cruel use of cliffhangers throughout...

If there is a sequel, and I noticed you saw right through my attempts to publicly try to bring pressure , you have a loyal reader.

Once again, my thanks for entertaining me so much over these last few weeks. It's been GRAND!

hehe, thank you for the nice words and the praise, I'm glad you enjoyed it so much



Btw, for the $2 million dollar question, have you figured out yet who Mallam Ryon and Felisa Ulessen (the couple of Telvanni spies in Omayni) are/ were?

I think I heard the name Ryon mentioned in passing by Fyr before the battle of Necrom. I'm not sure though. Who exactly were they?

A happy ending, and good one too. Very enjoyable story.

I liked the pace, it got along and didn't mess about too much but was slow enough to develop an awful lot of mystery and suspense.

And there's certainly the prospect of a sequel which is rather exciting, if it happens that is.

Thanks for sharing this