Excellent! Nice to see you writing again Trey!

Seems like a confrontation with the priest is likely to be imminently forthcoming. Athlain may have been able to befriend the troopers with a simple drink, but avoiding violence in confronting the priest may take a little more effort. I'm very curious to see how he proceeds from here.

Ahaha.....hilarious! Athlain lurking around in Fort Frostmoth with a bottle of Sujamma in his pocket!!! I too like the honoured Doctor wonder how he will proceed and how he will approach the mighty Priest.

As usual the you produce some really good work here, I read it with utmost pleasure.

I wonder what will happen from here. The priest will either take alot of cunning or some violence. At least that's what I think. I don't know how I missed for three entire days! Must of been asleep whenever I got on...

Now that a second soldier had confirmed that it was the priest who was fanning the flames of discontent, I felt confident enough to return to the captain. I entered his office and saluted, then said,

“Sir, it grieves me to report that the Imperial Cult priest, one Antonius Nuncius, is promoting discontent and disobedience among the men.”

I expected the captain to thank me for my efforts and then order that the priest be brought before him. The Empire gave its commanders broad discretion in the discharge of justice, especially in the remote outposts. Instead, the silence stretched as Carius paced the chamber for several minutes. Finally, he seated himself and stared at the opposite wall. When he spoke, his voice was so low that I was not sure the words were intended for me.

“This troubles me. I wish for these soldiers to be the most excellent in the Empire, and I have long believed that one among them is poisoning the minds of the others. Perhaps it is a reflection on my leadership that this has occurred, but regardless it must end soon.”

He then pinned me with a stern glare and spoke more forcefully:

“If there's reason to suspect Antonius Nuncius, find the proof. If you feel you have it, confront the man himself. Then report to me. Let's do this right, Athlain.”

I must admit that I was somewhat puzzled by the captain’s reaction. It was obvious to me that the priest was the problem; surely Captain Carius could see that, too. Why wasn’t he doing something, taking direct action? Then I remembered another of Carbo’s lessons, a lesson on the difference between soldiers and officers.

Some people think the only difference is a matter of social status- peasants become troopers and nobles become generals. Sometimes that’s true, especially back in the heart of the Empire, where the soldiers don’t have to do much besides march in parades and collect tolls. But out here, at the sharp end, the officers have to think. A trooper can just charge right in, once someone has pointed him in the right direction. But an officer, a good officer anyway, has to figure out what the right direction is. He has to study all the angles and make sure before he commits himself- and his men.

And that was what Captain Carius was doing- he was studying all the angles. Right now, he had the gossip of some troopers- as passed on by a new sub-officer he did not know- me. Balance that against the status and power of a priest of the Imperial Cult, and it was awfully thin. Priests were usually from noble families- and they frequently had imposing political connections. If Nuncius really was stirring up a mutiny, it was a serious matter, serious enough that people could be hanged if it went much further. The captain needed proof before he acted, and he needed me to provide it.

I could simply confront the priest with what I had heard…. And he would deny it or claim that the troopers had misunderstood. Worse, he would be alerted to my interest, and I would be no further along. Nathan had told me that Nuncius maintained an office near the Armory; that was the most likely place to search for the proof I needed. If I was fortunate, he would be elsewhere when I showed up. If he was inside, I could make some excuse about needing counseling after my recent demotion. Perhaps he would let something slip that I could take to Captain Carius. Searching the office seemed a good plan- but for what would I search? The only villains who wrote carefully detailed and specific criminal plans were those who appeared in the pages of my youngest sister’s overwrought romances. I really did not expect to find a packet of papers labeled “Evil Plot Dry Fort, as conceived by Antonius Nuncius.” On the other hand, proof could take many forms- I just had to be perceptive enough to recognize it. I followed the corridors to the Armory and from there to Nuncius’ office, walking resolutely, as though I was on official business- which I actually was. The room was unoccupied, for which blessing I was grateful. It was a bare, sterile space, containing only a massive desk, a chair, and a cupboard, all made of rough lumber. The surface of the desk was littered with papers and books, none of which provided any clues. The desk drawers were locked, which was not necessarily suspicious. It did, however, present me with a problem.

Although my motives were forthright, I was uncertain about methods. I had never been good at misdirection or sleight of hand- nor had I ever practiced those skills. That was one point on which Father had been absolute. He had preferred that I not learn the use of weapons, but he had forbidden me from learning or using the arts and tools of the thief. His words were engraved upon my soul:

It is honor rather than “morality” that concerns me. Morality is what you do when you think someone else might be watching. Honor is a matter of being true to yourself and your values, whether or not anyone else is there to see. The day you steal, no matter the value of the thing you take, is the day you will feel the weight of my disappointment. I have lived with the name of thief for most of my life, and I deserve it. But I do not wear it with pride. It matters not that I have stolen nothing for many years; nor that I have performed other acts more notable. I will forever be known to some as “Trey the Thief.”

When I had set out to become an “adventurer,” I had known that I might have the need to get into- or out of- locked places. Since my abilities were more magical than physical, I had taken pains to learn a reasonably powerful unlocking spell. After all, there were reasons besides larceny to need to open locks. The spell should be sufficient for Antonius Nuncius’ desk, but only if-

“If you ever stop dithering over the propriety of your actions,” a dry, familiar voice seemed to whisper in my mind.

With that thought, I shook myself and suited deed to word, speaking the command- Inviga- while touching the lock. A glow of magic briefly surrounded the desk and then I felt the drawer loosen under my hand. When I slid it open, it took me a moment to understand that I had, indeed, found the proof I sought.

As I had expected, the Imperial Cult priest had not been so foolish as to write down his plans and leave the incriminating manifesto where anyone might find it. But what he did have hidden in his desk was a truly astonishing assortment of alcoholic beverages- almost certainly the “missing” shipments from months past. As I reviewed the information I had gathered, the pattern became clear: Nuncius had first tried to convince Captain Carius to ban alcohol at the fort. When that failed, he diverted the shipments, all the while telling the troops that the lack was due to the commander’s orders. I now understood how the priest had incited a near-mutiny, but what I did not know was why. And only one person would be able to tell me- Antonius Nuncius himself. As I crossed the bailey, I considered how best to approach the plotting priest. After discarding a number of overly-elaborate schemes, I decided that simple was best- I would tell him what I had found and see how he reacted. Mother had often used that technique on my sisters- and on me.

Even if I had not known of his misdeeds, I would have viewed Nuncius with disdain. He was a heavyset Imperial, with a jowly face and rather ridiculous side-whiskers, which served to draw unfortunate attention to his dissatisfied mouth and weak chin. He greeted me with a perfunctory gesture of blessing and asked,

“How can I be of service, my son?”

His voice was of a piece with the rest of him- oily, overfed, and entirely too pleased with himself. That being the case, I dispensed with courtesy and got right to the point:

“You can explain to me why you have been fomenting rebellion and how it is you come to have stolen liquor in your desk.”

My words stunned him and his face went through a number of interesting transformations as he sought to regain his balance. He first attempted bluster,

“Well, I have no idea.... You've been in my desk? My desk? You've been in there? Why...that's an outrage!”

The effect was rather ruined as his tone rose to a squeak. Then the rest of my words caught up and he continued in a miserable mutter,

“Stolen liquor? I have no idea.... All right. Perhaps I have been hiding the alcohol. It was for their own good! And... I had hoped that if the soldiers got fed up and revolted, I'd be able to justify going home to my superiors.”

I waited a few moments to see if the man had anything else to say, then turned and left him standing there. On my way back to the commander’s office, I removed a selection of the bottles hidden in Nuncius’ desk and took them with me.

For what I hoped would be the final time, I reported the results of my investigation to Captain Carius. There might have been another choice, another way to proceed, but I was amazed by the selfishness of the priest’s actions. He had been willing to cause a mutiny, during the course of which people would almost certainly die…simply as a way to get sent home? The captain was as surprised as I- when I had finished detailing my findings and turned over the alcohol, he responded:

“You say that Antonius Nuncius started this whole thing because he wanted to go home? The twit! I could have had him reassigned, had he just asked me.”

He paused and thoughtfully rubbed his chin before continuing,

“Now, though, I think he might do his best work here, saving the souls of my men. With the new abundance of liquor at the fort, someone will have to deliver their salvation. Thank you for your help, Athlain. You did well.”

With those words, he presented me a silver sword imbued with magic, as well as three potions. As I thanked him, he commented,

“You look like you could use those. There are some diseases here that aren’t seen elsewhere and that are hard to shake. We have more fort business to discuss, but it can wait until you are feeling better. Dismissed.”

This post has been edited by treydog: Oct 4 2008, 01:37 AM

Very nice, Treydog. Funny--and so appropriate--how Trey would forbid his son from thievery.

Haha....so old Trey didn't want his son to go in his footsteps huh? Ah I mean thievery....Hmm very wise I'd say.

So he found his proof, well honestly I didn't expect anything else. The interesting thing is now about those diseases mentioned in the last paragraph, I wonder......yes I wonder.


Anyway its just so great to read about Athlain.....I like that boy, indeed I do

Haha! That made me laugh. Great update. I want more now!! Oops, uh I mean more please?

Excellent update, as always. I particularly liked these lines, almost as much as I continue to enjoy Trey's almost palpable presence in this story about his son. It seems that Athlain has a very deep respect for his father, and has taken his wise advice to heart.

As soon as I reached my bunk, I followed Captain Carius’ advice, downing one of the Cure Disease potions he had given me. Normally, the effect of such a curative is immediate; a sense of health and vitality infuses one’s whole being. But in that instance, all I felt was a fresh wave of nausea. I was not discouraged- potions can lose their effectiveness over time, or even go bad. Besides, I had brought along some potions of my own, which I knew were still fresh. After waiting half an hour, I tried one of my own concoctions- and achieved the same result. Given the failure of the potions, I was ready to try something else. Like all Imperial forts, Frostmoth had a shrine dedicated to the Nine Divines, the gods of the Empire. I made my way to the chapel, donated the amount of gold necessary to receive a blessing, and waited. As with potions, the effect of a blessing is usually instantaneous. Usually. Perhaps the gods recognized my lack of faith- I was not terribly devout- or perhaps they simply had more important things on their minds. In any event, the only response I got to my prayers was a fresh round of stomach cramps. When they passed, I decided that I must seek someone to help me. If I had been in Ald’ruhn, I would have gone to Serene, the greatest healer in all of Vvardenfell. But home was far distant, and I needed a solution right now. I could not expect assistance from the priest whose mutinous plot I had just exposed- he certainly had no reason to wish me well. In fact, I had probably made an enemy for life. Perhaps there was someone else.

I made my painful way up the stairs, stopping to lean on a table at the end of a corridor. There, another spasm seized me, so severe that I collapsed in a heap on the floor, taking the table and its contents with me. The resultant clatter was loud enough to cause a well-dressed Imperial to open a door to one side of the hall and look out. Upon seeing me, he curled his lip in disgust and said,

“Take your drunken carousing elsewhere, lout! How can I be expected to get any work done with you crashing about out here?”

But then he got a look at my face and his demeanor changed. He reached me in a few strides and helped me to sit up.

“It isn’t drink at all, is it? You’re sick and none of the usual cures have worked.”

That last was a statement rather than a question. He continued,

“My name is Carnius Magius and I have something that will help. It is an infusion of my own devising. It works best as a tea, but almost any transport agent will do. Come with me and I’ll fix you right up.”

Carnius assisted me to a chair in his office and turned to a small burner nearby. As he mixed and heated the tea, I asked him about the ingredients, thinking I would prefer to create my own potions rather than depend on someone else. His answer was somewhat oblique:

“As I said, the base is an herb tea made from bittergreen. But the key is to stop the cramps and spasms in the stomach and abdomen.”

So saying, he poured the tea through a cloth filter and handed me the cup.

I was desperate enough to try anything, so I took a cautious sip of the proffered drink. I grimaced at the taste- bittergreen was certainly the dominant component. There was another, more elusive flavor underneath, one that I did not recognize. Nonetheless, I downed the rest of the tea in a few swallows and handed the cup back.

The results were… odd. To the good, the painful cramps in my stomach eased almost immediately. For the first time since the ship from Vvardenfell had reached the open sea, I felt as if the prospect of my continued existence was a good thing. But with the relief came a strange lassitude. All the problems and worries that had occupied my thoughts receded and became of no importance. At the same time, I seemed to be more aware of myself, of my breathing and heartbeat. It felt almost as though I could enter my own body and study the systems and processes at first hand. Carnius Magius broke the spell by clearing his throat. When I looked at him, he explained that I might feel somewhat tired and that it would be wise to rest for some hours. I followed his advice and returned to the welcome sanctuary of my bunk. My sleep was filled with vivid dreams and a peculiar, detached euphoria. When I awoke some time later, the specifics of the dreams vanished, leaving me with the feeling that I had come very close to grasping essential truths about the nature of the universe.

For the first time in days, I felt rested upon waking. Better yet, my appetite had returned, and I breakfasted on kwama eggs and scrib jerky. My gratitude was such that I sought out Serjo Magius in his office and thanked him profusely. He accepted my praise and then raised a cautioning hand:

“Please be aware that the tea is not so much a cure as a treatment for the symptoms- a way to allow the body to heal itself. It would be wise to continue the infusion for another few days; once in the morning and once at night. I would also caution you to avoid strenuous activity during that time.”

When Captain Carius had reinstated my rank, he had also told me to take as much time as I needed to recover my health. With the morale problem solved, he felt confident that the routine at Fort Frostmoth had been restored. Therefore, I told the East Empire man, “I am in your hands.” At that, a strange, almost predatory look seemed to pass over Carnius Magius’ face, but was gone before I could be sure. With a shake of my head, I reminded myself that I was not at my best; that strange fancies and imaginings had bedeviled me since the previous day. I gladly accepted a fresh infusion of the tea, and spent the rest of the day walking about the fort and visiting the waterfront.

Whatever the cure contained, it was effective. I did feel somewhat light-headed immediately after each dose, and became somewhat anxious as the time for a new one approached. But I comforted myself with the admonition that those effects were to be expected when the body was repairing itself. The next several days passed without any notable incident- my dreams continued to be both vivid and elusive, and my health continued to improve. Then on the third day, as Serjo Magius handed me my morning medicine, he gave me a long, thoughtful look.

“Your recovery has gone well, Athlain. Therefore, I feel it is not too much of an imposition to ask a favor of you. I am, after all, a businessman; which means I like to see a return on my ‘investments’.”

He smiled at his metaphor and then lifted a paper from his desk,

“As you know, I am the factor for the East Empire Company here on Solstheim. As such, I have been given the task of setting up a colony and ebony mine at Raven Rock. The first workers have arrived, and they need a reliable escort to take them to the colony site. I have no doubt that you, as a Legion officer, will handle the assignment with speed and diligence. What say you?”

Ah, that Carnius Magius is crafty one. Athlain best be on his toes.

I considered Magius’ request for a moment. It was true that my health had improved considerably, and that I had grown somewhat restless. A journey to the colony site would allow me to explore some of the island and to look for signs of the missing airship. And it was also true that I was in Serjo Magius’ debt- his tea had helped me when nothing else worked. For all of those reasons, I nodded firmly and told him,

“I would be happy to assist you.”

The East Empire factor clapped his hands together sharply and said,

“Excellent! I knew that I could count on you. Now, the men are good workers, but none of them are skilled with a blade. Go down to the dock and speak to Gidar Verothan, then escort the crew to the Raven Rock colony. Once you get there, find Falco Galenas. He may have some more work for you. I would consider it a favor if you would accept any small task he might require of you. I intend to see to it that the colony turns a profit. Safe travels.”

After a brief stop to put together a pack and gather my weapons, I walked down to the dock. I savored the scent of the air, a mixture of wood smoke, sea salt, and the evergreen forests that covered most of Solstheim. Once I reached the stone pier, I immediately sighted a pair of Dunmer standing with a lone Imperial. As there was no one else about, I quickly deduced that these three were the group I was supposed to escort. I inquired which one of them was Gidar, and the taller of the Dunmer spoke:

“That would be me, soldier. Why do you ask?”

“Carnius Magius asked me to take your party to the Raven Rock site. Are you ready to go?”

The dark elf nodded his assent and then pulled out a map showing the southwestern portion of Solstheim. A square labeled “Raven Rock” had been marked in red ink some distance to the north of Fort Frostmoth. The colony site appeared to be located along the coast, at the head of a long inlet or “fjord”. Once I had fixed the location in my mind, Gidar folded up the map and explained that we had a choice.

“We can walk- or we can take ship to Raven Rock. The only thing is, if we go by ship, you’ll have to pay the fare for all of us. Serjo Magius says he is here to make money, not to spend it.”

Although I had used up most of my ready funds financing Louis Beauchamp, money was not really a major concern. I could have afforded the fare easily enough; however, the fact was, I would rather fight a Daedroth barehanded than climb back on board a ship. We would be going overland. When I announced my decision, Gidar and his crew picked up their possessions and fell in behind me as I began the northward trek. The others introduced themselves- Gamin Girith was the second Dunmer; Sabinus Oranius was the Imperial. None of them had been to Solstheim before, but they had heard that the EEC would pay well for skilled miners.

In a short time, we had left the fort and all signs of civilization behind. It was for this that I had left home; a chance to walk over ground my father had never seen. Whatever deeds I accomplished here would be mine alone. Although the sky was overcast and the air held a chill, the ground was clear and dry. I was grateful for that, but wondered if we would encounter snow. What I should have wondered was why a party of two Dunmer and one Imperial, all strong and healthy, needed an escort for a journey of a few hours. And perhaps I should have wondered why Carnius wanted me to provide that escort. And I should have asked more questions about why everyone on Vvardenfell had referred to Solstheim as a “terrible place.” But, as happened all too often, I did not ask the right questions. If I had, the answers that were revealed might not have surprised me. But then again, if I had not done all of the things I did, I would not be the person I was. I leave it to others, wiser than I, to decide whether or not that is a good thing.

We had not traveled very far when I began to hear odd roars and howls which seemed to come from every side. Gidar and the others moved closer together and surveyed the scattered rocks and trees with uncertain eyes. I reassured myself with the thought that the sounds were generated by the wind in the tree-tops and the grinding of ice against the rocks of the shore. That doubtful comfort lasted only until I glimpsed shapes moving at the edges of my vision. When I turned to look, I saw only shadows. But the howls were closer and no breeze stirred the branches. I called a halt and drew my mace, concentrating fiercely on the shadowed patches. Now I began to catch sight of low, dark shapes ghosting through the trees, paralleling our course. We were well into the Hirstaang Forest, and I tried to remember if I had heard anything about it, other than the name. A snatch of overheard conversation came to me, and I felt a chill that had nothing to do with the cold. Two troopers had been talking about seeking treasure in the old burial mounds that dotted the island when a veteran interrupted them, saying,

“What you idiots will find is your own burial- in the belly of a wolf or a bear! The Hirstaang is full of them.”

And here was an uncomfortable fact, one that I had not given much thought. We all have fears, terrors that are not rational or reasonable, but that are very real. Some people fear the darkness- or what it can hide; some fear all manner of spiders and other arachnids, no matter how small; some- suffice to say, the list is endless. And I? What did I fear, who dreamed of being a true knight of the Cyrodiilic Empire, with blazing sword and shining armor? In my imaginings about my Legion career, I had acknowledged to myself that I might be wounded, might even lose a (nonessential) body part, perhaps a finger or two from my left hand…. And I had even had my courage and resolve tested at Ashalmawia, and found myself to be as brave as I had hoped. I had the physical and spiritual scars to show for my encounters in that Daedric ruin. But I had grown up knowing the beasts of Vvardenfell- nix hounds, kagouti, and alit. And I had been aware of the Daedric summonings. Terrible as they were, they were familiar to me, creatures whose dangers I recognized. But there were no wolves or bears on my home island. All I knew about those predators I had read in traveler’s accounts and adventure stories set in other parts of the Empire. And all those sources agreed on several points- first, these beasts were consummate hunters, able to follow a scent for miles; second, they feared nothing in the forest, not even men or mer; and finally, they would gladly devour anyone who fell to them, be he dead or still living. In fact, it was said, some of these creatures developed a positive preference for the flesh of men, and found them easy prey. And I remembered one of my most vivid recurring nightmares.

I was in a dark wood, where I was pursued by a howling pack. At last I fell, exhausted, no longer able to run. My heart pounded as if ready to break free from my chest, and my breath came in great, tearing gasps. Yellow eyes appeared from the darkness on either side of me. The howls subsided, replaced by low snarls and growls. I knew the wolves were communicating, planning their final attack. They need not have waited; I was unarmed, helpless. The moment stretched- and then they fell upon me, biting and rending. I closed my eyes, praying for the final darkness, the endless sleep…. But it did not come. I was being eaten alive.

And then something bumped into me from behind.

Eeeeeeeviiiiil! A cliffie!!!!!, it just can't be....treydoggie, I'll treat you with three pounds of doggiebiscuits if you please continue this, I really wanna know what bumped into his side.

Now I could imagine of course but I'd rather wait and see. Lucky thing Thyna doesn't know of this...

Ah yes, the cliffhanger. Keeps stringing us along, addicts that we are... begging for more.

I stifled a most unheroic scream as I realized that the impact to my back was one of the miners; the entire crew had crowded close as they noticed the shadowy shapes beneath the trees. Their obvious fear gave me the strength I needed to shove my own terror down into the darkness.

“If you all don’t mind, I need a bit more space to whip these curs back to their kennel.”

Gods, that speech sounded pompous even to me, but it had the desired effect; the workers edged a few feet away from me with nervous chuckles and some shuffling of their feet. Scanning the forest, I sighted a black wolf that had approached somewhat closer than its fellows. Readying mace and shield, I advanced on the creature, which responded by baring its fangs and crouching lower. In what must have been a fit of insanity, I threw my arms wide and shouted,

“Come and get me then, you skulking lapdog!”

I do not know that the wild animal understood my speech- but it certainly saw what appeared to be an opening. With a deep growl, the wolf launched itself, covering a good ten feet in a single leap. Instead of backing up, I stepped forward to meet it, swinging my shield across my body, and letting the gaping jaws snap shut on my steel-clad arm. Teeth that could have ripped flesh and crunched bone instead shattered on the forged armor. I did not hesitate, but brought my mace looping around to smash the stunned wolf aside. A couple of additional blows finished the beast, and I felt a triumphant surge in my blood. In fact, I was so euphoric at my victory that I wanted to howl myself- to send a challenge to the other members of the pack. But there was no need; the wolves that had paced us faded into the distance, and their voices grew fainter as they sought less daunting prey. Sabinus Oranius clapped me on the shoulder and let go a flood of words as reaction to his earlier fear set in:

“Oh, that was magnificent, sir! I thought you had lost your mind, I admit it. I thought you were done for, that you would be the main course, and we the dessert. I guess old Carnius knew what he was doing when he sent you with us, though.”

I made some vaguely polite acknowledgment of his babble and then said,

“We’d best be moving- the blood might attract worse monsters.”

In truth, that was the least of my concerns; I simply needed to start moving again lest standing still betrayed the trembling of my legs.

The rest of the journey passed without incident. When we reached a clearing ringed with boulders, an Imperial in silver armor approached and introduced himself as Falco Galenus. He directed the miners to some tents set up under the trees and then silently looked me over. I, in turn, examined the supposed “colony site”. There was little to see- a few shelters and some supplies constituted the whole of it. Beyond that, blaze marks on the trunks of several trees seemed to indicate the proposed boundaries. Whatever Falco thought of me, he kept to himself, finally giving a grunt that could have meant anything. Then he gave me a sharp glance and spoke:

“So Carnius talked you into joining our little venture, did he?”

There was a hint of something in his voice… sarcasm, dislike? But I did not know him well enough to be sure. The fact was I had little experience with Imperials other than my mother; Father’s antipathy toward them was well-known. I did not have the same facility for “reading” them as I did the Dunmer. And of course anyone could tell what a Nord was thinking. Best then to just ignore Falco’s tone and answer his question in a straightforward fashion:

“Yes, Serjo Magius asked me to escort these miners.”

To my relief, his answer was equally serious:

“Very well, I will be managing the site and answering to Carnius. Since you are here, I have an assignment for you, if you are willing.”

I recalled that Carnius Magius had requested that I accept any “small tasks” the site manager requested, so I nodded my assent.

“Good. Now that I have some workers to supervise, I need to live up to my job title. So you can finish the task I was working on before you arrived.”

He handed me a heavy, dark purple chunk of rock and continued,

“That’s raw ebony. It’s why we are here. Find me four more just like it. Carnius needs some proof for the investors that this venture is worth it, and the ore should do nicely. This is a good site, and you shouldn’t have any trouble. Carnius is in such a hurry to get started that he says he doesn’t really care where the ore comes from. I’m surprised he didn’t just bring some over from Vvardenfell. I wouldn’t put it past him.”

As it happened, I was quite familiar with the ore, since one of Serene’s first acts as head of Redoran had been to wrest control of the Caldera mine from the Hlaalu. Shortly thereafter, she had freed the slave laborers and brought in a paid workforce. Despite the higher cost of operation, the mine still made a better profit under Redoran control- the crippling corruption had disappeared along with the former Hlaalu management. Therefore, I was sure I could find the samples Falco needed. I was more troubled by his remarks and attitude toward Carnius; it felt like I had walked into the middle of an argument of long duration. And it was often the supposedly disinterested party who ended up getting hurt in those situations.

For now, it seemed best to simply carry out my assignment; I would be free of the EEC squabbling soon enough. After a quick look around the colony site, I espied some promising outcrops a dozen yards to the north. A bit of scrambling among the rocks and some work with my dagger were sufficient to acquire the ebony I needed. Of course, the raw ore was quite heavy, and I wasn’t sure I relished the idea of carrying it all the way back through the Hirstaang. And I truthfully did not care for the idea of making that walk alone- alone except for the wolves and bears, that is. But there was another alternative that would suit me. On my 14th birthday, Mother had given me an amulet that was enchanted to bring me to the nearest Imperial Cult shrine upon activation. There was nothing of a religious nature in the gift- she knew that I was already growing restless, and wanted to be sure I had a way out of whatever trouble I might find. Even better, Carnius Magius had his office near the shrine, so I would only have to carry the heavy ebony up a flight of stairs to be done with this job. I grasped the amulet and spoke the command word, feeling the familiar yet disorienting twist that came from teleportation.

When I arrived at the Imperial Cult shrine, I did a cursory inspection to be sure that all of my parts had completed the journey in the proper configuration. The Breton half of my heritage gave me an affinity for magic; the Imperial half tempered it with a major dose of skepticism. Carnius was in his office, frowning at some papers on his desk. My arrival did nothing to clear the clouds from his expression. Rather than spinning a long tale of my travels and my success, I simply displayed the raw ebony and waited for a response. Carnius’ frown changed to an even less-attractive sneer:

“Ah, so you have the ore I asked Falco for? He couldn’t even accomplish that much by himself, could he? No matter- the investors are waiting for proof, so hand it over. Here’s a couple of septims for your trouble.”

He carelessly dumped the ore into a cloth sack and handed me some coins, then turned back to his papers. When I did not immediately leave, he looked up impatiently.

“I don’t have anything else for you to do; come back in a few days once construction has begun. There might be something then. Oh, here. Take this stock certificate. It gives you a personal stake in the success of the colony. That will be all for now.”

He passed me a heavily decorated and sealed parchment, and waved a hand to direct me out of the office.

I was at a loss; he had previously treated me with courtesy and cordiality. And while I hoped to avoid becoming entangled in the obvious antipathy he and Falco held for one another, I needed to stay on good terms with Carnius. I cleared my throat and hesitantly inquired,

“Ah- Serjo Magius? What about the tea? I understand that you are a busy man, but… well, perhaps it was the teleportation spell…. Anyway, I am feeling a little nauseated and somewhat nervous. So if you could…?”

Carnius folded his hands on the desk and stared at me in an unfriendly fashion.

“Athlain, I told you before that I seek a return on my investments. It appeared to me that you had the potential to be useful to my efforts here on Solstheim. Therefore, I invested several days and some considerable resources in you. So far, I have profited from our relationship. The colony is about to begin construction, and I have the ore samples to show the investors. Well and good. But now, you seek an ‘advance’ in your pay, when you have done nothing to earn it. I find that disappointing. I am not without compassion, but even that has its limits. You see, the ‘medicine’ you require is expensive- and illegal.”

He reached into his desk drawer and produced a small vial, a vial whose wax seal bore the symbol of the crescent moon.

Oh dear; it sounds like our dear Athlain is beginning to have a bit of a skooma problem (although I could be mistaken). I hope he realizes what's going on before it is too late.

O_o....now what? I must confess I didn't understand the thing with the tea....Is tea really illegal or am I totally lost here?

NM a most exciting update, Athlain is really developing himself and I'm so curious to learn how he will manage the conflict between Carnius and Falco..and who he will choose...later on.


A funny quote:

Planty is correct as to what is occurring.... Sometimes, I am a little too cryptic. But...it will be explained in greater detail in Chapter 6- if I ever get to Chapter 6.

Ey'up Trey, just popping in to say I've read all of this through so far, and I must say I'm extremely impressed. Using Athlain as a character for the sequel to the story of Trey (which I've yet to read) is really rather clever, and you've managed to capture the feeling of his father's shadow hanging over him really rather well. Keep it up, old boy.

I think I understand exactly whats happening and I like it! This is really good, I'll have to read Trey when I have a free few hours. Athlain is filling out as a chatacter well now and the story is moing along well, in fact it has been well paced throughout.

Excellent stuff - I want the next part now.

One question - is EEC meant to be a joke? Either way it made me laugh.