Okay - I was originally going to divide this story into two parts (hence the reason for the "Part One" in the title), but I've decided against it. Still, the end of this chapter is probably where the "END OF PART ONE" break would have been.

So feel free to comment on what you think of "Part One." I will begin "Part Two" soon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Another bowl of dick cheese soup. At least this isn't a long update.


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By the time I returned to Rethan Manor, dusk had already fallen. The sun had set, and the busy shuffling of the various guards, soldiers, and officials was slowly beginning to subside. There would be no reception or grand celebration to greet me upon my return – only the quiet comforts of home and hearth: a hearty meal, a bottle of well-aged brandy, and the tender embrace of the one I love most. It was all I needed.

We ate and drank and chatted amongst ourselves and our closest friends. And when the meal was finished, we discussed business. I described my triumph that day in great detail. And then, when the day’s work was done, we retired to our chambers and made love until well into the night. And when we could take no more, we each drifted off to sleep.

And as I slept, I had a strange dream. I dreamed that I was lying there in bed next to Imsin, when suddenly a bright beam of light shone on me, seemingly from out of nowhere. I could feel my soul leaving my body, and I watched it rise through that beam of light as though that light were a keyhole to Aetherius itself. And I saw, from the perspective of my body, that my soul did not take the form of my own countenance, but instead that of a mer, dressed in a full suit of Indoril armor. I reached out to try and stop it from leaving, but instead found myself pulled along with the spectre! I swiped desperately downward, trying to grasp onto something, but my hands gripped nothing but air. The room – indeed, everything around me – seemed to be evaporating into a thick gray mist. I called out to Imsin, but she could not hear me – she, too, seemed to be fading into nothingness. I screamed louder, but my voice rang hollow, like that of a child who has fallen into a well. Finally, I began to fade, and all that was left was the gold-skinned warrior floating above me. And then I awoke.

This post has been edited by bbqplatypus: Mar 7 2014, 07:04 AM

Can't...continue...without...feedback.........ego...starving........GAH!!!

WARNING: This update contains copious amounts of HOT COUNCIL ACTION! People with heart conditions are advised to avoid reading this update, as its exciting nature may lead to a sudden cardiac arrest! WATCH with great anticipation as a meeting is held! THRILL as the minutes are read! This update is so action-packed that you may FALL ASLEEP from sheer excitement! Consider yourselves WARNED!

ADDENDUM: Even back THEN I knew how boring this was!

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”Neither blight nor age can harm him
The Curse-of-Flesh before him flies”

Chapter V

I was nervous. In the eleven weeks immediately following my successful “negotiations” with Orvas Dren, all had gone according to plan. The list he had given me was genuine, and all Camonna Tong members who held positions of power had been honorably executed. Safehouses were raided, shipments were severely disrupted, and Dren had taken a slow boat to Solthsteim. I would also soon be a father. But I was not at ease.

Part of this may have been due to my sense of duty. After all, I still had a job to do and many enemies to worry about. But that didn’t explain the dreams I had been having – disturbing dreams the likes of which I had not experienced since my brush with Dagoth Ur. Dreams of loss, loneliness, and sorrow; dreams of Lord Nerevar. Sometimes I would dream that I was a bonewalker, standing guard over a tomb whose occupants grew to include everyone I had ever befriended or loved. They would come on a nightly basis, then subside for a while, only to return more vivid and frequent than before. It was like soul-sickness all over again. I was more afraid now than ever of the possibility that I would lose everything that mattered to me.

No one else knew of these dreams except for Imsin. I knew I could confide in her; tell her anything – my deepest fears and anxieties. She would listen and offer words of comfort and support, despite the fact that she, as a mother-to-be, needed it as much as I did. As bad as I still felt about it, there is no doubt in my mind that I would have gone mad were it not for her.

I could not permit anyone else to know of this. Especially not the Hlaalu councilmen who were presently gathered before me.

And so I entered the council chambers as I always did: last, and to little fanfare. “Sorry I’m late,” I said as I walked through the heavy oak door. If I showed any signs of nervousness, the Council didn’t seem to notice it.

“How nice of you to join us, Grandmaster,” Duke Dren said drolly. “Are you ready to begin?”

“Yes,” I replied as I made my way toward my seat. “This meeting of the Grand Council of Great House Hlaalu is hereby brought to order. First, I’d like to welcome two new members to our ranks: Relen Hlaalu and Hlodala Savel. I assume my late arrival has given you more than enough time to become acquainted with them, so let’s just get right to going over the minutes from our last meeting. Kinsman Salobar, if you please.”

“Yes, Grandmaster.” A stately dressed Dunmer woman holding a long scroll that unfurled nearly to the floor stood and began to read an account of the events of our last meeting.

For those of you who have never attended a Grand Council meeting, allow me to enlighten you on the experience: it is without a doubt the most boring thing that can possibly be endured. The reading of the minutes is a large part of the reason why. It is virtually impossible to retain interest while listening to a recap of political issues and disputes that you have already dealt with and are thus already familiar with. And it’s not like many of them were very interesting the first time around. So, naturally, Salobar recited them with all the passion and excitement of an old man muttering in his sleep. Even the two new members, to whom all of this was completely new, seemed bored out of their skulls.

After what seemed like hours, the minutes finally concluded. I yawned and rubbed my eyelids, doing my best to rouse myself from the dreamlike stupor clouding my mind, and continued. “Thank you, Kinsman. And now, for our first and most pertinent order of business – our struggle against the Camonna Tong. I believe Councilman Hlaalu has compiled a report for us.”

“Indeed I have, serjo,” the Dunmer replied.

“Care to read it for us?”

“Certainly, Grandmaster. As everyone here no doubt knows, a recent string of drug busts and assassinations has all but eliminated the Camonna Tong’s presence within the upper echelon of our House. Over a hundred of their supply lines in Hlaalu territory alone have been successfully interdicted, resulting in the seizure of millions of septims worth of contraband. It seems that, within our own borders at least, the wisest course of action is to continue doing exactly what we are doing right now.

“Turning our attention outside our own House tells a somewhat different story, however. Although Imperial and Redoran cooperation in pursuing Camonna Tong officials and shipments has been outstanding, participation within House Telvanni has been sorely lacking. Far fewer stings and seizures are being reported in Telvanni country, even in the parts of it that are most suitable for smuggling activity. Judging solely from correspondence between our leaders and theirs, this seems to be more of a matter of indifference than outright malevolence. Regardless, I think Legion interven-“

His speech was interrupted when a tired, winded-looking Imperial guard burst into the room. “Pardon…the interruption,” he wheezed. “I have…urgent news…for Lord Grignr.”

“Well, what is it?”

“It’s your wife, sir…she’s gone into labor.”

This post has been edited by bbqplatypus: Mar 7 2014, 07:04 AM

Your opinion of Grand Council Meetings are just like mine! I wrote about that in my last chapter..hehe. Fact is I attend to a helluva lot of meetings in my profession so believe me ...I know all about meetings!

You continue to impress me with your writing. Keep up your style, it's good! The ending of this latest update is indeed intriguing....Are you going to describe the child birth? I'm very interested because....oops nope I won't tell it would be a spoiler!

So my friend....go on please! (It's an order from your chorrol-moderator )

I really enjoyed the way he dealt with Orvas Dren, and I'm glad to see that his plan has paid off so well. I also empathized with the description of meetings; while I haven't been to as many as some other people I know, they do have a bad habit of getting boring very quickly. My gut tells me there will be something special about this childbirth, but I guess I'll have to wait to find out.

Very interesting indeed. You have a different place for the Nerevarine, instead of doing the old 'how can I warp Morrowind's storyline this time?' and the addition wife and soon-to-be-born child make it all the more interesting. And the meeting's description was brilliantly accurate. This shall be followed.

While you wait for the next chapter of this Nordic saga, please enjoy this one.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: You really should know what I think of this story by now.


I teleported home and made my way inside, nearly tripping over my own robes as I ran. Three guards were there to greet me.

“Where is she?” I demanded. “Lead me to her!”

“Certainly. Right this way, milord.”

They led me downstairs down a broad hallway toward where my healer worked. As I got closer, I could hear the sound of pained moans and labored breathing. It seemed as though I had arrived just in time.

“Leave me,” I commanded the guards. They turned and headed back up the corridor as I entered the room.

Imsin lay on one of the many simple brown cots that lined the side of the room, panting and groaning, her legs spread and her back periodically arching back. The healer, a Breton woman by the name of Edrene Sylbor, stood over her, patting her forehead with a dry cloth.

Edrene turned her head to face me with a visible look of concern in her eyes. “Thank the Nine you’ve arrived,” she said. “The baby is coming any minute now, and the birth is not going to be an easy one. Your wife is in a great deal of pain – even more than you’d usually expect. I’ve given her some marshmerrow extract to help relieve the pain, but she’s still in pretty bad shape. The good news is, our mystic’s determined that the head’s facing the right way, at least.”

“Is she going to be okay?”

“I think so…but I’m not sure. You never can tell with this sort of thing.”

I walked closer, right beside the bed where Imsin was. She was staring at the ceiling, her eyes vacant yet wild and feverish at the same time. She didn’t even seem to notice I was there. Almost instinctively, I brought my hand down beside her face and stroked her hair gently. “Imsin…” I murmured.

“Grignr…” she whimpered softly. “I…n-need you…” Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment as she screamed in pain. Her breathing and convulsions began to grow even louder and more rhythmic.

“It’s coming!” yelled Edrene. “Breathe, Imsin! Breathe! Slowly…slowly!” She turned her head. “Get ready, Grignr! You’re going to deliver this baby! Do exactly as I say when I tell you to! Do you understand?”

I nodded.

“Alright. When the head appears, I want you to use your hands to guide the baby out. Do NOT pull it out. It’ll come out on its own. Just sort of slowly help and guide it along. Got it?”

I nodded again.

“Good. Now brace yourself. This is going to be messy.”

And indeed it was. The next few minutes felt like an eternity. Imsin’s contractions gradually grew more frequent, and her cries of pain grew louder. Then, she gave out an ear-shattering scream. The child’s head was now visible. I reached out to guide it as I had been instructed. Then, another thrust, this one even more forceful than the last. Imsin’s screaming conveyed more sheer agony than I had ever heard before, even from my many foes on the battlefield. There seemed to be a sort of desperation to them that I wasn’t expecting. Was something wrong?

Time slowed down with each contraction. And then, as the baby finally came out, it literally stood still. All sound and motion ceased – from the baby, from the healer, and from Imsin. I looked at the child…and then I looked in her eyes. There was no trace of life to be found in them. She looked as though she had died…

And then, I heard a voice echoing inside my head. It was distinctly feminine, yet with traces of masculinity, dripping with bass overtones. It was a voice the likes of which I had never heard before. And yet, it felt strangely familiar. My mind reverberated with quiet thunder as the heavens opened and spoke to me.

”YOUR VISION FAILS YOU, MORTAL,” the voice said. ”YOU HAVE FAILED TO SEE YOUR TRUE DESTINY. HEARKEN NOW, AND I WILL BRING LIGHT TO THAT WHICH LIES HIDDEN TO YOUR MORTAL EYES.”

”What is this?” I inquired silently. ”Who are you?”

“I HAVE MANY NAMES, NONE OF WHICH I AM AT LIBERTY TO REVEAL TO YOU. BUT MY NAME IS NOT IMPORTANT. WHAT MATTERS IS THAT YOU ARE NOT FULFILLING YOUR DESTINY.”

“What are you trying to say, spirit?”

“THAT YOU ARE NOT MEANT TO LIVE A MERE MORTAL’S LIFE. YOUR FRIENDS AND YOUR FAMILY CANNOT ENDURE LONG ENOUGH, NOR NEARLY ENOUGH. YOUR WIFE IS NOW DEAD, AND VERILY YOU SHALL SEE THE DAY WHEN YOUR CHILD HAS GROWN OLD AND YOU HAVE NOT. YOU SHALL BURY THEM BOTH, AS YOU SHALL ALL YOUR DESCENDANTS. FOR YOU SHALL OUTLIVE THEM ALL.”

“Dead? No…no…spirit, this cannot happen. I cannot allow it.”

“IT DOES NOT MATTER WHAT YOU ARE WILLING TO ALLOW, MORTAL. THE HEART OF THE WORLD HAS GIVEN YOU A BLESSING INTENDED FOR YOU AND FOR YOU ALONE. IT IS NOT YOUR GIFT TO SHARE. EVERYONE YOU NOW KNOW – YOUR FAMILY, YOUR TRUSTED FRIENDS, EVEN YOUR ENEMIES – SHALL AGE BEFORE YOUR EYES WHILE YOU REMAIN THE SAME. WHAT DIFFERENCE DOES IT MAKE IF YOUR WIFE DIES TODAY, TOMORROW, OR A HUNDRED YEARS FROM NOW? IT IS INEVITABLE. YOU WILL OUTLIVE HER.”

“It makes all the difference in the world to me, spirit. It means the difference between merely surviving and truly LIVING. I don’t expect you to understand, but…I beg you. You must have great power to stop the hands of time. Please…don’t let this happen.”

“VERY WELL, MORTAL. I WILL PREVENT HER DEATH JUST THIS ONCE, FOR YOUR RECENT DEEDS HAVE GAINED YOU MY FAVOR. JUST KNOW, YOUR WIFE SHALL LEAVE THIS MORTAL PLANE LONG BEFORE YOU DO. PERHAPS SHE WILL DIE TOMORROW. REMEMBER…YOUR FINAL DESTINY LIES FAR FROM HER.”

“We’ll see about that, spirit. But thank you.”

Time resumed. The baby began to cry. I could see Imsin opening her eyes and taking a deep breath. Her vitality had returned – the sickness in her eyes had gone.

I looked at the child. “It’s a girl,” I said, handing the baby to her mother. We smiled knowingly at each other as she cradled it gently in her arms.

This post has been edited by bbqplatypus: Mar 7 2014, 07:05 AM

And now, more hot Icelandic saga action!

Yeah...this is a thread bump. What of it?

This post has been edited by bbqplatypus: Aug 20 2008, 05:41 AM

**Rushes in with Ego Burn Balm!** Sorry man been busy!

Uh, read one or two, but not all of the updates, but what I read is excellent, and it keeps me wanting more, if I werent so danged busy, Id be more commentative. I wonder if thats even a word?

Uhhhh, bbq! That was a bit unexpected! I liked it very much, the description of it I mean, not the fate of poor Grignr...

Then I wonder about the child of course but I am sure we will learn more....right?

The birth was nicely described, indeed it was!


S.G.M

Just be thankful I didn't describe the afterbirth.

And as for all your questions, don't worry. All will be revealed...eventually. *laughs deviously*

Oh? Hmm I have three kids....I think I could handle any description of afterbirths....or did this one get exceptionally nasty?

...Possibly. Possibly not. Wouldn't YOU like to know?

In any case, the fact that you can handle it doesn't necessarily mean you'd particularly care to read it. It would ruin the dramatic pacing in any case without adding anything to the story. It was just an off-hand remark, really.

This post has been edited by bbqplatypus: Aug 20 2008, 10:52 PM

Oki...I'll stay put waiting for the next update then!

NOTE: It only gets worse from here folks. Disownment doubly applies.

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We named the baby Svetja, and spent most of the next two weeks taking care of her. Between the crying, the feeding, and (at certain times) the smell, neither of us slept very much. It was enough to make me forget about the spirits, visions, and horrific dreams for a while as I took on the blessings and responsibilities of fatherhood. To feel this burden lifted was a relief and a joy the extent of which I cannot describe in words.

And then, almost as quickly as it had left, it came back to me as I drifted to sleep in the midnight hours. Once again I dreamed of a previous life, of my days as warrior-king of Resdaynia. I was standing before a great altar alongside my trusted friends and advisors, the Tribunal. We were all four of us dressed in fine silk robes, and the strong smell of incense filled the air. Vehk began to read from an ornately engraved scroll. I could hear a crackle of thunder as he finished his invocation.

Suddenly, I felt a terrible pain. My flesh felt as if it was burning, corrupted by a caustic toxin that covered me from head to foot. And then…a sharp, sudden sting in my back. I turned around…and saw Vehk, holding the ceremonial dagger, twisting it at the hilt. I fell to my knees and cried to the heavens in anguish. The rest of the Tribunal just looked on, completely expressionless, as the life slowly drained from me.

“My…my friends…” I gasped. “My Queen…” I had been betrayed.

I woke with a start, in a cold sweat. I looked to Imsin. She was still asleep. Slowly and carefully, I sat up, and the terrible thoughts that had lain dormant for all this time now flooded my consciousness.

I had thought about my quasi-immortality before, but never in great detail. I reasoned that there was no sense in worrying about it, for there was nothing I could do. After all, worrying could do nothing but keep me from living a happy, fulfilling life.

But I could no longer simply sweep this issue under the rug. The mysterious spirit had awakened all the questions and fears that I had harbored for so long and brought them to the foreground. I began to wonder how I would explain to little Svetja why her mother would die while her father would not. I wondered what it would be like to watch her, and generation after generation of her descendents, grow older than I was. Finally, I wondered what sort of ethereal being would be at all interested in such a quasi-mortal’s plight. The fact that divine intervention was once again creeping into my life made me feel uneasy. I now feared that my duties and my destiny were putting my family in danger.

Finally, after much deliberation, I gave up trying to answer these questions on my own. To do so would require the counsel of someone wise – someone who knew what I was going through. And so I resolved myself to leave in the morning. Vivec and I were going to have a little chat.

This post has been edited by bbqplatypus: Mar 7 2014, 07:06 AM

Ah, of course. Who better to speak with than the one with CHIM, eh? I imagine this should be an interesting conversation.

Keep up the great work.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Duuuuuuuumb. Oh, God, how was I so duuuuumb Jesus Christ


“You can hear the words, so run away
Come, Hortator, unfold into a clear unknown,
Stay quiet until you've slept in the yesterday,
And say no elegies for the melting stone”
- Excerpt from The Thirty-Six Lessons of Vivec: Lesson Five

Chapter VI

The gondolier stared at me, his eyes wide with nervous excitement. “Y-you’re him, aren’t you? You’re the Nerevarine…”

I nodded.

The Dunmer fumbled around with his hat for a moment before removing it and giving a slight, jerky bow. “I…really can’t tell you what an honor it is to be of service to you, serjo,” he said haltingly, his voice seeming to grow quieter and more sheepish by the second. “Listen…you’ve probably heard this before, but…well…I really can’t…say…”

“You don’t have to say a word, friend,” I assured him. “Just take me to the Temple Canton, please.”

“Yes, right away, sera.” His expression instantly shifted to one of intent focus as he fastened his hat, reached for his pole, and led me down the wooden stairs to the gondola.

I had almost forgotten what a truly magnificent sight the city was. The sky was clear; the waters shined with a bright reflective light, illuminating the stone walls and foundations of the city with a faint bronze-tinged glow. The multi-tiered cantons towered majestically over the broad central canal, each of them symmetrically aligned down to the last tapestry. Statues of the twelve saints of Dunmer tradition lined the avenue, each one appearing to be subtly angled toward the center of the High Fane. It was pure and elegantly simplistic beauty.

“So...if you don’t mind me asking, sera…” the gondolier said as he quietly pushed the boat forward, “…what brings the Hortator to our fair city?”

“I’m here to meet with an old friend,” I replied. “I’d prefer not to have to elaborate any further.”

“Certainly. I understand.”

From there we continued in silence. Several minutes later, we finally arrived at the foot of the Temple.

“Here we are. That’ll be six drakes, muthsera.”

“Alright.” I fished ten drakes out of my sack of coins and handed it to him. “By the way, what is your name, friend?”

“Dalse. Dalse Adren.”

“Well, you can keep the change. Three blessings, Sera Adren.”

“Home and hearth, Lord Nerevar.”

And so I made my way through the Temple Canton, passing beneath the Temple prison of Baar Dau, crossing the small footbridge between the two buildings, and ascending the tall, imposing staircase that led to Vivec’s doorstep.

Breathing deeply, I turned the key and entered the palace.

This post has been edited by bbqplatypus: Mar 7 2014, 07:06 AM

AUTHOR'S NOTE: You know what? [censored] it. You get the point by now.


Vivec was sitting cross-legged, as always, levitating and meditating in the center of the room. His eyes were closed and his brow furrowed in deep thought.

Just as I was about to announce my presence to him, he spoke in his distinctively dreamlike, whistling baritone. “Ah…Lord Grignr. I suspected we might meet again. I sense you have come seeking my council.” The corners of his lips turned upward in a rather whimsical grin. “What have you come here to talk about?”

“Dreams. Dreams and visions.”

“Dreams of Akavir?”

“Akavir? No…why?”

“I have heard the name whispered among the flowers blooming over the wind-swept hills of Veloth. I whisper the name back to them and they speak of you. Perhaps you do not listen closely enough.”

“Perhaps not,” I replied. “Still, I’m hearing quite enough as it is. It seems as though every night I am dreaming of loss, suffering, death, and betrayal. I believe my fears stem from my divine gift. Surely you, in your long lifetime, have experienced something at least partly similar to this.”

“You forget that I am a god,” he said. “Or what remains of one. You cannot hope to compare the experience of godhood to anything you know, nor even comprehend what it is like.

“Still, I am well aware of how and why you suffer. You bore this gift – one that no mortal was meant to take on – out of necessity, to save the people of Morrowind. Because you walked the path of the Hero, which had been detailed by prophecy, you were able to retain this gift without being consumed by it.

“And so you have a mortal’s hopes, desires, and aspirations, but not his lifespan. You will endure only to lose everything, for the days of mortals are few and miserable. It is very sad that this must be. But it must. All that can be done is to count and cherish what little time you will have.

“But you already know this. There is something else that troubles you, otherwise you would not have come to me.”

“Yes…that is true.” I told Vivec about the voice – how it had halted time and brought my wife back from death.

“Interesting…the et’Ada are most certainly involved. The clouds of deceit linger like vapor over the Mundus. Threads are woven and unraveled, scores are settled through secret murder…the Webspinner is again at work.”

My face blanched white as I realized the truth. “Mephala…”

“Yes…and probably Boethiah as well. Treachery and murder…one tends to accompany the other. Your visions are messages from the depths of Oblivion. The only way to end them is to listen closely to whatever they want you to hear. Find out what they want from you. I am afraid there is no other way.”

“Isn’t there anything you can do?”

“I am sorry, my friend, but these are your visions to deal with, not mine. The meddlers of Oblivion have something in mind for you. It is not wise to defy one Daedric Prince, let alone two. I know from experience, and though I have no regrets, I do not think things would turn out well for you. You must heed their words and follow them wherever they may take you.”

“Even to Akavir?”

“If that is where they would have you go. Of course, you could always opt not to and see what happens.”

I rolled my eyes in disgust. “You know, for a god, you are extraordinarily unhelpful.”

Vivec glared at me, his eyes flaring bright red. “I have nothing more to say to you, Nerevarine. Leave me. NOW.”

I turned around and stormed out the doors. The good news was, my questions had been answered. Unfortunately, a multitude of new ones had taken their place.

This post has been edited by bbqplatypus: Mar 7 2014, 07:07 AM