OOOOH baby! I feel the aroma of adventure and sexual tension in the air...just what the doctor ordered!

As always, a good entry in a great story. In particular, Ada's ability to pass herself and Calvus off as guards was most impressive.

One nit:



I believe the word you were looking for here is b@$tard. One whose birth was illegitimate. A complete and total jerk whose foulness runs to the blood.

Auto-censer is bad like that.

Ada has the same unease about Mournhold that my characters do- there is just something- odd- about the place.

Loved the interaction and background with Calvus. I never hired him- I always feel so badly about followers getting killed…

And Ada meets The Fons!








This made me glad I had carefully removed any beverages from the immediate area. Helena at her best.

Your method of dealing with the DB and Vules is much more interesting and realistic than any of the options that are normally available. Trust Ada to use her head.



Woo-Hoo!

And good luck getting to see the slippery little scut- (ahem)- I mean "His Majesty, Helseth Hlaalu."

Och! Treydog picked two of my fave lines already !!

Chapter 4: All The King’s Men

A meal and a bath at the ‘Winged Guar’ left me feeling slightly better, but no less shocked and confused. I still found it hard to believe what I’d just learned, but I couldn’t ignore what was right there in front of me. Vules’ dying words, the note, the “His Majesty” remark… they all added up to the same thing, yet it didn’t make any sense.

For the life of me, I couldn’t imagine why the King of Morrowind would try to have me killed. The only explanation I could think of was that it was some sort of ‘House Wars’ affair – he was a Hlaalu, after all. Maybe he was worried that Redoran would get too powerful with this uppity new Archmaster in charge. Though I couldn’t think why, since sod-all had changed in the six months since I’d become Archmaster.

Whatever his reasons, I thought grimly, he was going to regret it. Alone in my room, I wrote a short note to Athyn Sarethi and stamped it with the House Redoran seal. Then I went off to meet Calvus Horatius in the Plaza Brindisi Dorom.

Only Calvus wasn’t there. We’d arranged to meet in one of the grassy ‘garden’ areas at the side of the Plaza, but when I arrived, the only person there was a grizzled-looking Nord. I might have suspected him of being one of Helseth’s agents, except for the fact that he was stark naked.

“Um.” I cleared my throat, rather lost for words. “Could I ask – ”

“What are you looking at?” He was giving me a filthy look. “No, I’m not paralysed. And I’ve never even met a witch, much less been asked to escort one anywhere!”

The sense of déjà vu was overwhelming. “Er – ”

“Why am I naked?” he snapped, before I could get any further. “Because it’s too damned hot here! You people think that every time you see a naked Nord barbarian, he’s been tricked by some witch. So narrow-minded. Now leave me alone!”

He stalked off just as Calvus approached from the other direction, looking as confused as I felt. “What the…?”

“Don’t ask,” I said with a sigh. “He’s too hot, apparently. I think there must be something in the water around here.”

Calvus just shook his head. “Anyway… what are we going to do now?”

“Go to the palace, like I said. I need to teleport back to Vvardenfell and deliver a letter to someone… and then I need to… ahem.” I gritted my teeth. “Consult with King Helseth.”

I turned towards the Palace gate, but Calvus wasn’t following. “Ada… I know you’re in charge here, but are you sure you want to just march in there and confront the King? I mean, how do you know he’ll even agree to see you?”

“I think he will,” I said coldly.

“Really? You seem awfully sure about that. I don’t think the King of Morrowind is going to grant an audience to just anyone.”

I could have made the obvious retort, but I wasn’t ready to reveal my background to Calvus just yet. “Do you have any better ideas?” I asked, shrugging.

He paused for a moment, thinking it over. “Well… perhaps. I expect you’ve heard that Helseth and the Temple aren’t on good terms?”

“I remember someone mentioning it, yes.”

“There’s a man at the Temple called Fedris Hler. He’s the Chief Steward of Almalexia, and the head of Her Hands – that’s what the Goddess calls her personal guard.” Calvus glanced around to make sure no one was close enough to hear us. “There are rumours that he used to be an assassin himself, and I’ll bet he knows quite a bit about the Dark Brotherhood. If you went to him and told him the King was after you, he might be willing to help.”

I mulled it over for a few moments. “Maybe,” I said at last. “But I think I’ll try to see the King first. I don’t suppose you know who I should see at the Palace to ask for an audience with the King?”

He shrugged resignedly. “I guess his guard captain would be a good place to start. Tienius Delitian is his name. This time of day, you’ll probably find him in the throne room of the Palace.”

“OK. I’ll deliver my letter, and then we’ll head up to see Tienius.”

We set off for the Palace, where I asked the mage Effe-Tei to teleport me back to Ebonheart. In the Council chambers I found Llerar Mandas, the House Redoran representative on the Grand Council. Llerar had always been friendly to me since I rescued his granddaughter, Delyna, from Divayth Fyr and his weird ménage à cinq. I wondered if he’d heard about what had gone down in Ald’ruhn – but if he had, there was no sign of it.

“Good day to you, Archmaster,” he said cheerfully, and then his warm smile faded slightly. “I heard about the attacks. I trust there have been no further…?”

“None recently, no. In fact, that’s what I came to see you about.” I glanced around to make sure we were alone. “I’ve been poking around a bit in Mournhold, and I think I know who ordered the attacks.”

His eyes widened. “I have a letter here that I’d like you to deliver to Athyn Sarethi,” I continued. “It’s extremely important, so please hurry. I’ll come back later with some more evidence for you – I hope.”

Llerar said nothing more, but left immediately to deliver the letter. If the King’s thugs did get to me somehow or other, at least I knew justice would be done.

Back in Mournhold Palace, Calvus was waiting for me in the reception room. He led me upstairs to another large hallway with a seating area for visitors. Like the reception room downstairs, it was gorgeously furnished – there were even banks of exotic flowers in planters along the wall, making it look like a kind of indoor garden. Whatever else I might think of Helseth, I had to admit that his taste in décor was impeccable.

Calvus saw the wistful expression on my face, and grinned. “This is more your sort of thing, eh, Nibenese princess?”

I was determined not to let him get a rise out of me this time. “I know it must seem weird to you, Calvus. Having grown up in a mud hut and everything.”

“Snob,” he said cheerfully.

“Hick.”

Some of the guards were starting to look at us a little strangely. I turned away with an embarrassed cough, and followed Calvus towards the throne room.

The large, rectangular chamber was hung on all sides with Imperial dragon banners, and other banners showing the head of a wolf – presumably Helseth’s family crest. How appropriate, I thought. The throne itself was empty – well, that was no surprise – but a couple of men in crimson Royal Guard armour stood on either side. One was a Redguard, the other an Imperial.

After a moment’s thought I approached the Imperial, Calvus following close behind. He looked me over slowly and deliberately, but said nothing.

“Excuse me,” I said stiffly. “Might you be Tienius Delitian, by any chance?”

He nodded. “I’m the captain of King Helseth’s Royal Guards. Is this an official matter?”

“Of sorts, yes. My name is Ada Ventura.” Tienius’ eyes widened ever so slightly; he obviously recognised the name. (Well, I should bloody hope so – what was the point of being Nerevarine if Morrowind’s movers and shakers hadn’t even heard of me?) “I’m here to seek an audience with His Majesty the King,” I went on.

I could almost feel Calvus cringe, but Delitian just looked mildly amused. “Ada Ventura. Yes, I know the name.” His tone was still carefully neutral. “May I ask why you wish to see the King?”

“I think it might be best if we discussed this in private,” I said.

He frowned. “First tell me your business. Then I will decide if we have anything to discuss.”

“Fine, have it your way.” I pulled the Dark Brotherhood contract out of my pocket, unfolded it and waved it in front of Delitian’s face. “This mean anything to you?”

For the first time, Tienius’ air of calm self-satisfaction wavered a little. He drew a long breath, and pressed his lips together for several seconds before speaking. “I see,” he said at last. “On second thoughts, perhaps this would be best dealt with in private. If you’d care to follow me?”

He turned away abruptly and began to walk towards the back of the hall. I followed behind with Calvus, who was looking pretty confused at this point – not that I could blame the poor guy. I took the opportunity to quietly cast a few protective enchantments while Delitian’s back was turned. You couldn’t be too careful, after all.

Delitian led us into a small side-room and shut the door behind us. “I take it you wish to know who sent the assassins to kill you in your sleep,” he said, before I had the chance to speak. “A reasonable desire. I won’t deny my knowledge of it, but I believe it is more important now to speak about an official matter.”

Oh, for f*ck’s sake. Screw polite diplomacy, I thought.

“I don’t agree,” I said bluntly. “I think it’s really really important right now to talk about the fact that the King of Morrowind is trying to have me killed. Or are you going to deny that he gave the order?”

He shook his head. “No. Of course, I’ll deny it publicly. But don’t take it personally.”

“Of course not,” I said, baring my teeth in a smile. “Heaven forbid I should take it personally when someone hires a bunch of Sithis-worshipping lunatics to murder me in my sleep. I assume the King just gets these ‘urges’ now and again?”

Again, Tienius shook his head. “I can understand your anger, but King Helseth does have his reasons. You appeared to present… a threat, shall we say.”

“A threat?” In the astonishment of the moment I forgot to be sarcastic. “He must be off his rocker. Until yesterday morning I’d never been within a hundred miles of the guy.”

“Perhaps not, but there were other factors which raised the King’s suspicions. Certain… recent events, for example.”

My jaw dropped. He had to be joking, right? The King had somehow got the idea that this whole Nerevarine business was me manoeuvring for the throne?

“Oh dear gods. You cannot be serious.” I shook my head slowly, trying to wrap my head around the sheer lunacy of it. “Helseth thinks I want to be Queen of Morrowind? I’ve enough trouble just keeping House Redoran in order.”

“Perhaps mistakes were made,” he said calmly. “But you can prove they were mistakes, if you can prove your loyalty to King Helseth. So. Are you interested in helping me with my problem?”

For a moment I was literally speechless. ‘Mistakes were made’? MISTAKES WERE MADE? I’d just confronted this guy with the fact that the King had tried to murder me, and he was asking me to prove my loyalty?

A sudden white-hot rage tore through me. It was as if months of frustration and disappointment had finally come to a head. Had I battled ash vampires, killed a God, clawed my way up through the ranks of House Redoran, to be treated like I was still Ada No-Name just off the boat from Cyrodiil? Would Nerevar himself – or Bolvyn Venim for that matter – have put up with this crap?

No. No, they wouldn’t. In fact, I was betting that if either of them were in my place, Tienius Delitian would be scraping his smug, arrogant face off the floor right now. I’d had it with this guy.

I took a step towards him. “Do you have any idea who I am?” I asked, in a voice so pregnant with menace that even Tienius looked taken aback.

“Apparently not,” I said, before he could recover. “Either that or you’re too bloody stupid to understand what it means, so let me spell it out to you: I am NOT your f*cking errand-girl. I’m the Nerevarine – you know, the one who killed Dagoth Ur? – and the head of House Redoran. Which makes Helseth’s attempt to murder me an act of war. Do you understand me?”

Tienius said nothing. The brief flicker of surprise had vanished from his face, leaving it expressionless. Calvus, for his part, was gazing from one to the other of us in utter bewilderment.

“I’ve killed the King’s Dark Brotherhood lackeys,” I went on, “and I’ve already told the Redorans who’s responsible. If anything happens to me here in Mournhold – mysterious illnesses, ‘accidents’, you name it – they’ll declare war. The Temple will find out who killed their Living Saint, and they’ll declare war. And I’m sure the Morag Tong will be very interested to know about his ‘contract in perpetuity’ with those filthy Westerners.” I took another step towards him, my face only inches from his. “If the King wants to turn me into an enemy, that’s his problem. Have I made myself QUITE CLEAR?”

“Abundantly.” That irritating half-smile was back on his lips. F*ck him, I thought. Let’s see if he was still smirking when the Redoran army came marching over the hill.

I turned towards the door, but Delitian hadn’t finished. “Perhaps we have been approaching this the wrong way,” he went on, in that infuriatingly calm tone of voice. “I’m sure King Helseth would rather have you as a friend than an enemy. And the King is known for rewarding his friends.”

“Is he.” Like I gave a sh*t.

“Indeed he is. And I’m sure he’d be willing to reward you suitably, should you choose to help me with the little matter I mentioned earlier.”

I swung round to face him. “No, I won’t. What the hell am I, a kitchen-maid? Tell the King he can find someone else to run his errands.”

“Then we’ve nothing more to discuss,” he said, shrugging. “If you change your mind, I’ll be here.”

Yeah, right. I wasn’t even going to waste time answering that one. I flung open the door, beckoned Calvus through after me, and slammed it shut with a force that made the palace walls tremble.

Poor Calvus, for his part, looked like he’d been whacked over the head with the business end of a warhammer. “Excuse me,” he said weakly, as soon as we reached the reception area. “I think I need some time to digest all this.”

“Take all the time you like,” I said shortly. “I have to go back to Ebonheart again anyway.”

I sat down on a bench to write some more instructions to Athyn, then carefully folded them up and sealed them along with Helseth’s contract. Effe-Tei transported me back to Ebonheart, where I handed the second package over to Llerar Mandas. I could tell he was itching to see what was in it, but he didn’t ask – maybe the expression on my face warned him off.

By the time I got back to Mournhold my boiling rage had simmered down a bit, but that didn’t mean I was any less angry with Helseth and his lackeys. If anything, I was getting more furious the more I thought about it. Not only had they tried to kill me for no reason – putting my friends’ and servants’ lives at risk as well, I might add – but they also had the breathtaking nerve to demand favours from me, as if I ought to be grateful for the King’s attention. Just how stupid and arrogant could this guy possibly be?

Mistakes were made, indeed. Oh yes, he’d made a mistake all right. By the time I got out of Mournhold, King Hlaalu Helseth was going to know exactly how big a mistake he’d made by trying to have me killed.

I was still clenching my fists as I walked out into the courtyard. Calvus was waiting for me there; the colour had come back into his face, but he still looked slightly stunned. “You might have told me you were the Nerevarine!” he hissed, as soon as we were out of hearing.

I shrugged. “It didn’t come up. Anyway, what difference would it have made?”

“I – ” He paused. “Well, I’d have offered to buy you a drink, for a start!”

“You could still do that,” I pointed out. “Right now, I think both of us probably need it.”

We bought drinks at the Winged Guar, and took them into my room where we could talk privately. Calvus took a long draught of ale, and mopped his brow. “So… you really are the Nerevarine?” He seemed to be having some trouble grasping this.

“The one and only,” I said.

“But… wow.” He shook his head. “And the head of Great House Redoran?”

“That too.”

“How the heck did you manage that?”

“I can tell you if you’re prepared to sit here all afternoon,” I told him.

“No, I’ll take your word for it. Those scars… and I suppose I should have guessed you were someone important, what with the King himself sending contract killers after you.” A wry smile spread over Calvus’ face. “Gods. I really should have asked you for a bigger fee, shouldn’t I?”

“That’s fine. Ask away.” I sighed. “I really should have offered you more to start with. In fact, if you want to pull out of the contract, I won’t hold it against you. I’d no idea we’d be going up against the Royal Family when I asked you to guard me.”

But Calvus shook his head. “No. We made a deal, and I’ll stick to it. But it’s kind of you to make the offer.” He hesitated. “So… pardon me for asking, but does the Redoran boyfriend really exist?”

“He does, yes. But like I said, things aren’t too good right now.” I swallowed hard. The memory of Varvur’s shocked, angry face always brought a lump to my throat, but I’d be damned if I’d let myself get teary-eyed in front of Calvus.

“But if you’re the head of the House, then…?”

“I’d prefer not to talk about it.”

He nodded understandingly, and we sipped our drinks in silence. “So what now?” he asked eventually. “Do I just keep guarding you and hope that His Majesty took the hint?”

“For the moment, yes. But I’m not going to let him get away with this.” I thought for a minute, an idea slowly forming in my mind. “What was the name of that Temple guy you mentioned? The assassin?”

“Fedris Hler. Are you thinking of…?” An evil smile was spreading over my face. “Stendaar help us. I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into, Ada.”

“Well, I’m not going to rush into anything,” I said. “I’ll just… talk to him. Explain about the Brotherhood, and find out if there’s anything he might like me to do for the Temple. I am technically one of their Saints, after all…”

“Really? Standards must be slipping.” I scowled at him, fighting the urge to stick out my tongue. “OK, suit yourself. Would you mind if I took a nap now, while you go to the Temple? I’ll need to get some rest if I’m going to be guarding you tonight.”

I agreed that this was a good plan, so Calvus settled down to sleep while I prepared to go to the Temple. He looked rather sweet, lying there curled up on the bed without his armour. He was a good man, I thought – and that made me suddenly remember Marena Gilnith.

Might Marena be interested in Calvus? She hadn’t said whether she’d be willing to date non-Dunmer. I decided to play it safe and assume she wasn’t – I knew all too much about the kind of problems involved in human-Elf relationships. I’d just have to keep looking.

I didn’t want anyone to see me going to and from the Temple, so I set a Mark and used my Amulet of Shadows before casting Almsivi Intervention. The Mournhold Temple was a beautiful building, vaguely triangle-shaped with elegant pointed spires at each corner. The walls were made of marble, and the roof of some white shell-like material that shimmered slightly in the sunlight. The grounds were attractive as well, with tidy, well-kept lawns that reminded me of the Imperial Palace grounds – no expense spared there, I bet.

Once inside the Temple I slipped through a side-door and waited for the Chameleon spell to wear off, then asked the first person I met – an elderly, white-haired Dunmer woman – where I could find Fedris Hler. She directed me to a small office along one of the corridors, and sternly ordered me to make sure I kept the place clean. Hler wasn’t in the office at that point, so I had to wait.

A few minutes later, a middle-aged Dunmer entered the room. He was dressed in a priest’s robe, but wore glass pauldrons on each shoulder, like a pair of tiny green wings. His face was horribly scarred, as if someone had swiped a sword right across his left eye. The moment he saw me he looked up sharply, his one good eye boring into me.

“Ah,” he said after a moment. “So you’re the one who has recently arrived in Mournhold from Vvardenfell? I was told of your arrival. I understand you had some problems with the Dark Brotherhood.”

Bloody hell, news travelled fast in this place. Drat that Meryn Othralas and his stupid Players. “If you mean the King sent them to kill me, then yes, I do,” I said, deciding to cut to the chase.

Hler – assuming this was Hler – raised his eyebrows a little. “An interesting group... and usually rather effective. I’m surprised you’re still alive.” He shook his head. “Perhaps you have potential… or they sent incompetents.”

Potential? Gods, this guy was almost as bad as Delitian. “Or maybe I was a bit too competent,” I said, swallowing my annoyance. “Fedris Hler, I take it?”

“I am. So you believe the King was behind the attacks?”

“I don’t just ‘believe’ it,” I said. “I have cast-iron proof. I found the contract, and Helseth’s guard captain outright admitted it – and then he tried to blackmail me into running errands for him in return for stopping the attacks. I told him to get stuffed.”

“Hmph. A bold move, if not exactly subtle.” Hler stroked his chin for a moment. “What do you want of me?” he asked suddenly.

I shrugged casually. “Just wondering if there was anything I could do to serve the Temple while I’m in Mournhold.”

Hler’s brows shot up, but he nodded, a thoughtful look on his face. I suspected he might be a little quicker on the uptake than Tienius.

“I’ll be honest with you,” he said at last. “Helseth is a foul man, unworthy to sit on a throne. Still, he holds right of succession. The Lady must keep an ever-watchful eye on this King, though, lest he do something that would be detrimental to the Temple, our fair city, or perhaps all of Morrowind.”

“What sort of thing?”

“Currently, there are concerns about some new recruits that Helseth seems to be training.”

“Recruits? You mean like an army?”

He nodded. “Something of that kind. A standing army is nothing new in the city, though it is largely unnecessary. Mournhold is protected by her walls from the outside, and by our Lady Almalexia from within – none would dare mount an attack here. But we believe that Helseth is raising quite a different sort of army... a goblin army.

I nearly fell out of my seat. “Goblins?! Good gods, are you serious?”

“Quite serious.” He screwed up his face in disgust. “Foul, vicious creatures. No wonder Helseth has chosen them to be his foot-soldiers.”

“But… but why?” I’d fought goblins before, and Hler was absolutely right: they were the nastiest, most vicious little creatures imaginable. I’d never known anyone who’d even managed to speak to one, let alone train them. “Why would he even want an army of goblins? They’re just as likely to attack him as anyone else!”

“I have no idea,” he said. “But I know that the goblins are being trained nearby, though not where, exactly. Ask around the city about goblins – someone will know. I wish for you to find the location of goblin training area, and kill the warchiefs – there should be two. You might rid the city of their Altmer trainers, as well.”

Altmer trainers? Well, that might explain things a bit. They were probably using some kind of Illusion or Conjuration spells to keep the things under control. I didn’t want to think what might happen if the creatures managed to break free, and got loose into the city.

“Complete this task, and the Lady will be pleased,” Hler told me, as I wrote down his instructions in my journal. As I stood up to leave, he suddenly held up a hand. “One moment. Did you say that Tienius Delitian also asked you to perform a task for him?”

“Yes, but I refused – ”

“Yes, yes, I know. Let me think for a minute.” He paused. “I think you should go back to him, and tell him you have changed your mind.”

“What? But – ” I broke off as I realised what he meant. “You’re saying you want me to be a double agent,” I finished, rather more quietly.

“Well, it would certainly help to divert any suspicion that might fall on you. As well as helping our Lady to keep a closer eye on King Helseth.”

I didn’t answer. He had a point, I had to admit that, but the absolute last thing I wanted to do was go back and grovel to Tienius. I’d look like a complete idiot – if he even believed me. Surely even a guy as arrogant as Delitian would have to be suspicious of my sudden change of heart?

Then again, if he was dumb enough to believe I’d work for him in the first place, maybe he was dumb enough to fall for a trick like this. I sighed. Gods, I hated deceit and spying and political intrigue. I’d hated it back when I was working for Caius Cosades, and I hated it now.

“I’ll think about it,” I said eventually. I certainly wasn’t going to promise anything – who knew what kind of ghastly things Delitian might ask me to do?

“Good.” He smiled thinly. “Few are worthy to serve our Lady Almalexia. But if you can win her favour, the rewards are great.”

As I left his office, looking for somewhere private to cast my Recall spell, it struck me that Almalexia herself must be somewhere here in the Temple. Would I end up getting an audience with her, as I had with Vivec? I had to admit, I was a little curious to see what she was like – even if she had killed her husband Nerevar. I always thought it was a bit unfair that the Imperial goddesses all got boring girly spheres like ‘love’ and ‘nature’; a warrior goddess, who had fought and defeated the Daedric Prince of Destruction, sounded a bit more interesting.

As for Helseth, I was quickly coming to the conclusion that he must be completely insane. First he took it into his head that I, of all people, was trying to usurp his throne; now it seemed that he was trying to create his own private army of goblins. Goblins, I ask you. The guy must have more screws loose than a rusty Dwemer centurion.

Would a guy as paranoid as that be willing to trust me? I doubted it. Did Fedris Hler trust me, for that matter? For all he knew, I might actually be Helseth’s double agent, come to keep an eye on him.

I heaved a wistful sigh as I thought back to Ald’ruhn and the other Redoran Councillors. No matter how much they might frustrate me at times, at least I didn’t have to play these kinds of games with them. I didn’t have to be constantly second-guessing their motives, watching over my shoulder in case one of them tried to stab me in the back.

Now that I’d had a chance to cool down a bit, I found myself strongly hoping Helseth didn’t do anything to make me carry out my threat. I could only imagine the expression on the Council’s faces when I told them I’d just declared war on House Hlaalu.

Calvus saw the wistful expression on my face, and grinned. “This is more your sort of thing, eh, Nibenese princess?”

I was determined not to let him get a rise out of me this time. “I know it must seem weird to you, Calvus. Having grown up in a mud hut and everything.”

“Snob,” he said cheerfully.

“Hick.”

Ahem *cough cough* No love without a quarrel *cough cough*

Ah, Fedris Hler makes his appearance. My favorite retired professional killer in the game. He'll strike you down, and complain about the music being too loud, and may the Blessings of Almsivi be upon thee.

I gotta tell ya, when I first reached this point in the game, I desperately wished that I could say precisely that.

The scene has already been quoted, so I won't repeat it - but Ada took my breath away in this chapter!!! I have never seen her do more than spit like an angry kitten before - she was magnificent!!!

And the line about getting a mysterious illness was really funny with Helseth's history of poisonings, lol.

I have to say, this chapter is my top favorite, even surpassing the beginning chapters of the Neveragaine - Awesome and powerful write !!!!!

I enjoyed writing that part as well. Really, it's completely ridiculous how those characters treat you in the game - especially considering that lore-wise you're supposed to be the Nerevarine at this point. Way to make the player actually feel like someone powerful and important...

I knew that red hair had to show up sometime in real temper, lol. Those passages were thrilling to read!

Hey, it's an accepted trope in anything truly epic. If the hero (or hero's love interest) can theoretically have red hair, then that person will have red hair.

In the case of a protagonist, it's called the Red Headed Hero. If it's the love interest, then it's Heroes Want Red Heads.

But hey, I'm guilty of it was well. As is Treydog. I'm sure some of the others on this forum apply as well, I just haven't read them all yet.

Red heads are always preferred, lol.

Ah, you're a TV Tropes fan as well? Excellent. That's not actually why I gave Ada red hair, though - she's based on my first Oblivion character, who is (somewhat) based on me, who has red hair.

I have to admit, I've spent many a happy hour on that site trying to work out which tropes would apply to Ada & co...

Are you kidding? I frequently peruse that site when in need of a more...effective literary device for my own work.

If it weren't for that site, I'd be just another cliched fanfic writer, instead of a writer that has a lampshade catalog.

This post has been edited by Captain Hammer: Dec 15 2010, 02:03 AM

You paint the tension and attraction so perfectly... Varvur needs to take some notes from Calvus.



"Yes, yes, there was the little matter of the assassins, but what is that between friends? You do want to be a loyal subject of the king?" The only way the dialogue and quest options really work would be if there was a "Morrowind Part I" followed by "Tribunal" and then a "Morrowind Part II."



Again- you nail the discontinuity. If the Player Character was still a nameless ex-convict, the rotten king might have managed his insane vendetta AND gotten the PC's cooperation. But why should the Nerevarine- chosen by Uriel, confirmed by the Great Houses, the Tribes, and the Temple- just meekly knuckle under?



That might actually make a few of 'em happy.

Really, there's no way to salvage the plot of Tribunal. If the PC is a nobody, why does Helseth consider them a threat? And if they already have power and influence, why expect them to be intimidated by his clumsy assassination attempt? As for Almalexia's side of the story, don't even get me started. It needs a complete rewrite, and if I had the time and energy, I'd probably make a mod for it myself.

Oh my goodness I love it! Forbidden love, assassins, and a short tempered red-head ♥ Sounds perfect to me! I can't wait for more!

Chapter 5: Both Sides Now

If I’d hoped that Calvus would be jumping for joy when I told him the new plan, I’d have been disappointed. I gave him a brief run-down of what Hler had said when he woke up later that evening, and watched the colour slowly drain from his face. “Trying to play both sides, are you?” He shook his head. “That’s a very dangerous game, Ada.”

“I know,” I said with a sigh. “Like I said, it was Hler’s idea, not mine. Anyway, I haven’t made my mind up yet – I’ll see what Delitian has to say first.”

“Now?” He rubbed his bleary eyes.

“No, tomorrow. I’ve had enough of that moron for one day.”

“Okay.” He swung his legs off the bed and stood up. “Shall we eat?”

As we ate dinner on the terrace, I spotted a sheet of paper lying on the ground near our table. It was another copy of that newssheet I’d seen in the marketplace, with the ‘little list’ article on the front page. “Did you see that article?” I asked Calvus. “About Helseth poisoning people in High Rock?”

He nodded. “Oh yes, it’s all around Mournhold. Before today I wasn’t sure what to think about it, but now…”

I went to bed straight after dinner, while Calvus settled down to keep watch. I wanted to get up as early as possible, and give him another chance to sleep while I went to see Delitian. There wasn’t any need to have him with me this time, I thought – surely even Helseth wouldn’t be stupid enough to have me attacked in broad daylight in his own palace. Though you could never be quite sure with that guy.

The next day, after a quick breakfast, I walked over to the Palace. Tienius wasn’t in the throne room when I arrived, and I had to wait nearly three-quarters of an hour for him to finally turn up. The minute he saw me, his lips twisted into a smug, contemptuous smile that plainly said, “I knew you’d be back.” If I really had been planning to apologise, that alone would have been enough to make me walk straight back out of there.

“Captain Delitian.” I forced myself to return his smile. Remember, you don’t have to mean it: you’re just doing this to help the Temple. “I’ve come to apologise for the way I spoke to you yesterday. I was very angry, and I think I had a right to be, but now I’ve calmed down I’m… able to see things from the King’s point of view.” I was going to have to wash my mouth out with soap after this.

“Really? I’m glad to hear it.” His tone was polite, but he didn’t bother to hide the look of triumph in his eyes. “I don’t suppose you’ve given any thought to that other little matter I mentioned yesterday?”

“I’ve thought about it, yes.” I narrowed my eyes. “You say Helseth is known for rewarding his friends?”

“Most certainly he is. Are you saying you would be willing to help?”

I hesitated. “What exactly is it that he wants me to do?”

“Well, the first thing is a simple matter.” He lowered his voice. “There are rumours among the people - rumours that King Athyn Llethan did not die a natural death.”

“And did he?”

Tienius frowned. “That’s a silly question. I don’t like silly questions.”

“Oh well then,” I said with a shrug, turning back towards the door.

Behind me, Tienius let out an exasperated sigh. “There is absolutely no evidence to suggest that Athyn Llethan died anything but a natural death. I assure you. Absolutely no evidence.”

“I didn’t ask whether there was any evidence. I asked whether he did or not.” Delitian was silent. “Given what happened yesterday, sera, can you blame me for being just a little bit suspicious?”

Tienius ground his teeth. I was starting to enjoy this. “I take your point,” he said, after another long silence. “King Helseth is a skilled… alchemist, and student of bodily processes. But it won’t do to have people referring to our sovereign as a common poisoner, will it?”

“So what do you want me to do?” I asked, deciding not to push him any further.

“It’s quite simple: speak to the people about King Llethan’s death. You are not known to them as my representative, and they may be more candid with you. Let me know if you find the source of these rumours.”

I blinked. “But it’s that newssheet, surely?”

“Newssheet?” he said, frowning.

Holy crap, he couldn’t be serious. “The one that’s all over Godsreach and the Bazaar? The… Common Language, or something? Accusing the King of all those poisonings back in Wayrest?”

Tienius was looking at me oddly. “You’re saying,” he said slowly, “that a broadside sheet circulating around Mournhold is accusing King Helseth of being a poisoner? And that is why people think maybe he poisoned Athyn Llethan?”

Oh, come on, I thought. Come on!

How could the King possibly not know about this? How could he be the one person in Mournhold who hadn’t managed to see a copy of that newssheet – the one I’d found lying around a market stall roughly ten minutes after arriving in the city? Okay, so he probably didn’t get it delivered along with his breakfast, but didn’t he have a spy network or something? Oh, right – his spies were probably all hundreds of miles away, chasing imaginary plots against the throne. What a pillock!

I nodded dumbly, and Delitian drew a deep breath. “Very interesting, he said at last. I’d like to see a copy of this newssheet, if you can bring me one.”

It had been a dry night, and the copy of The Common Tongue was still floating around the Winged Guar’s terrace – dirty and crumpled, but still readable. Ten minutes later I was presenting it to Captain Delitian, still shaking my head in disbelief at the sheer incompetence of Helseth’s intelligence network. If all his tasks for me were like this, I was going to have a much easier time than I’d thought.

Tienius read the article through carefully before crumpling the paper in his hand. “Thank you for bringing me this,” he said. “I believe it is indeed the source of the rumours. I see no source or evidence for its speculation – just vague falsehoods. Well, I’ll mention your loyal services and exceptional qualities to King Helseth… and I think we might find you further employment.”

“What kind?” I asked, trying not to giggle at the ‘exceptional qualities’ remark. Apparently I was the only person in the palace capable of walking to the market and picking up a newspaper.

“For example, we lack sources of information in Almalexia’s Temple. Could you help me find a Temple informant?”

I could hardly believe it – an excuse to go straight back to the Temple, without being suspected? He’d walked right into my hands. It seemed almost too good to be true.

“I could try,” I said eventually.

“Good,” he said, with a brisk nod. “There are rumours of discontent in the Temple. You are the Nerevarine; no doubt you can convince them to trust you. Look for someone discontented, listen sympathetically, and find out whether the Temple is willing to accept King Helseth – or whether they plan to act against him.”

As I left the palace, I couldn’t help thinking that this was all just a bit too easy. Surely Delitian and Helseth couldn’t be quite so stupid as to trust me right off the bat? Would they suspect that there was more to my sudden ‘change of heart’ than met the eye? Things were going well so far, but I couldn’t afford to let my guard down.

A Dunmer priestess approached me as I was walking up the steps to the Temple. “Hello, my child,” she said with a smile. “Our wealth dies with us, but our good deeds outlive us all. Would you care to make a donation to the Temple, and receive the blessings of the Lady of Mercy?”

I was in a good mood, and hey, I needed all the blessings I could get. “Okay,” I said, handing over five gold pieces. “What’s the money for, anyway?”

“Almalexia watches over all Her children – the sick, the needy, the poor.” I could practically hear the capital letter on ‘Her’. “Well... not actually in person. She used to... but She’s made no public appearance for years, so the Temple takes care of Her children for Her. That’s what the money goes for, child.”

“Is that because of Dagoth Ur and the Ghostfence?”

The priestess nodded. “It’s hard for all of us. She’s had to change – to toughen Herself and Her followers.” She paused. “It’s true that sometimes dissenters disappear when they question Her doctrines… and the Hands of Almalexia are more like inquisitors than knights of loving mercy... and Mournhold doesn’t feel much like the City of Love any more. But hard times demand hard gods.”

The sad look in her eyes told me that she wasn’t truly convinced of this, whatever she might say to outsiders. Maybe it wouldn’t be as hard as I thought to find a dissenter within the Temple. Still, I wanted to talk to Fedris Hler before I took any action.

When I found Hler and told him about Delitian’s request, his eyes lit up with malicious glee. “Galsa Andrano,” he said after a moment’s thought. “She’s young and naïve, and has a loose tongue. Of course, she knows nothing of real importance – but no doubt she’ll give you plenty of nonsensical tales to carry to Helseth. You can find her in the Infirmary.”

I was about to leave, when I thought of something else. “May I ask you something, Ser Hler? Do you believe that Helseth murdered the previous King?”

Hler snorted. “Who can doubt that Helseth is responsible for Athyn Llethan’s death? Though out of fear, few will speak openly, I think you’ll find most Dunmer in Mournhold are convinced that Llethan was killed to make way for the Helseth. Of course, I doubt that it could be proven – Helseth is too clever for that. But no one can doubt the truth of the matter.”

I sighed. Although I knew almost nothing about the late King Llethan, I found myself sympathising with him purely because he wasn’t Helseth – oh, and also because his name reminded me of Athyn Sarethi. What had Athyn thought when he’d read my notes, I wondered? Was he still angry with me… and more to the point, was Varvur?

As luck would have it, Galsa Andrano was alone when I found her in the Infirmary. I gave myself a minor wound by cutting my arm with my sword, and pretended I’d run out of healing potions. I didn’t have to pay for treatment – as soon as Galsa realised who I was, she got so excited that I half expected her to pay me for the privilege.

“The Nerevarine!” she breathed. “I can’t believe it! Mehra Milo has told me all about you. I never would have expected to see you here in Mournhold.”

She was so sweet and friendly that I felt terrible about using her like this. Gods, I hated spying. I’d hated it back when I was working for Caius Cosades, and I hated it now. But the sheer rage I felt whenever I thought about Helseth was enough to drown out any doubts I might be having.

As Hler had predicted, it wasn’t difficult to get information out of Galsa. As she cleaned my wound, I mentioned what the priestess outside the Temple had said to me, and she nodded sadly. “I am a faithful believer,” she told me, “but Almalexia makes me uneasy. For the last 50 years, the Tribunal stopped walking among us, stopped listening and speaking with us. This worried me, and made me sad… but since Almalexia has lately come among us again, I feel more worry, not less. Her face glows brightly with hope and power, but her words seem dark and bitter.”

I nodded and made understanding noises, while she went on speaking. “Almalexia’s homilies are full of compassion, understanding, wisdom and acceptance. But now her sermons seem more intent on destroying the wicked and rewarding the faithful – the unquestioning, obedient faithful. Yes, these are difficult times... but the god I once loved now frightens me.”

“What about this new King?” I asked. “Have you heard all the rumours about how he poisoned the old one?”

She hesitated. “I am not sure… no, what am I thinking? Of course I can trust you.” I felt a pang of guilt, but it was too late to turn back. “The rumours are true. Helseth has murdered King Llethan and stolen his crown.”

“You’re sure of this?”

Galsa nodded vigorously. “It does not matter that King Llethan was a fool – he was our fool. So long as the puppet king was a joke, we all could laugh and ignore him. Helseth is not a fool, and no one is laughing. If Helseth seeks in earnest to be king, then Almalexia and the Temple are sworn in earnest to destroy him.”

“Wow.” I raised my eyebrows. “Isn’t that a bit dangerous? I mean, if he really is a murderer…”

“We do not fear him.” She swallowed. “Forgive me… I fear I have said too much already. One never knows who might be listening.”

I let her finish treating my wound, realising I wasn’t likely to get anything more out of her for now. “I was just thinking over what you said about Almalexia,” I said, as I got up to leave. “You know, I’ve met with Lord Vivec a couple of times. Maybe I could do something to help?”

“You think you could…?” Her eyes lit up. “Yes, perhaps. Come here another time, and we will talk. I feel guilty, and disloyal, but in my heart, I know something is not right. It helps a little to be able to speak of it with you.”

Talk about feeling ‘guilty and disloyal’, I thought miserably, as I left the Temple. I only hoped that Hler was right, and she hadn’t told me anything that would really be of use to Helseth. Maybe I really would go and speak to Vivec about Almalexia – it seemed the least I could do, in the circumstances.

Before going back to the Palace, I finally remembered to stop by a magic shop to get some more potions. As soon as I stepped out of the shop, there was a sudden puff of smoke and a robed man appeared right in front of me.

“Greetings, fair citizens of Mournhold!” he boomed. “I am the great, renowned, respected, and feared wizard, Ovis Velas! In the coming weeks you shall see more and more of me, as I bring this city to its knees – but for the moment, allow me to demonstrate my power on one of your hapless countrymen. You there!”

I blinked. He was pointing straight at me. “What?”

“Yes, you, you ugly Imperial!” he snarled. “Prepare yourself to feel my wrath!”

I’d already drawn my sword, but before I got close enough to use it, he cast a nasty Shock spell at me. It didn’t do much harm, what with all the magical protections I habitually wore, but it bloody hurt.

All the tensions of the past few days exploded in a near-hysterical wave of rage. Lunging at Velas, I drove my blade straight through his neck, very effectively cutting off his attempts to cast another spell. As he crumpled to the floor in a fountain of blood, I whipped round to face a group of stunned-looking onlookers.

“Is there ANYONE in this city who isn’t trying to kill me?” I roared, so loudly that several people winced and cringed away from me. “Well? Anyone else want to have a go?” I turned to one of the hapless onlookers, who backed away hastily. “No? How about you then?”

The second onlooker raised his hands in a defensive gesture, shaking his head violently. “No, sera!” he stammered. “I heard the rumours about this wizard. I think he was just trying to make a display of his power. He frowned. “Though… with all the rumours of how powerful and evil he was, I thought that he would be tougher than he appeared.”

“He said his name was Velas, right?” one of the others chimed in. “There’s a Velas manor in Godsreach, I think.”

Still breathing heavily, I knelt down beside the wizard’s body and searched through the pockets of his robe. There was nothing in them but a small house key. Right, I thought: time to pay a visit to Velas Manor. But first, I needed backup.

Ten minutes later I was back in my room back at the Winged Guar, shaking Calvus awake. “Time to get up, shirker,” I snapped.

“Ada?” He looked up at me sleepily, rubbing his eyes. “Why are you covered in blood?”

I sighed. “Three guesses. Yet another idiot just tried to kill me.”

“Another? What, one of Helseth’s men?”

“I don’t think so. He said something about being a renowned wizard and making a display of his powers.”

“Oh.” He sat up, yawning. “Well, if he’s dead, what’s the problem?”

I hesitated. “I’m not sure, but there’s something fishy about this. People said the guy had a manor in Godsreach. I want to check it out.”

“Okay, if you say so.” Calvus threw off the covers and got to his feet. “What about the goblin-hunting?”

“Change of plan,” I said grimly. “First we deal with this lunatic, then we go after the goblins.” I paused, glancing down at my bloodstained tunic. “No, wait. First I change my clothes, then we deal with this lunatic, then we go after the goblins.”

A short while later we made our way through the streets of Godsreach, pausing occasionally to ask the way to Velas Manor. It took us a while to find it, as most people didn’t seem to have heard of the Velas guy. As we approached the door I drew my sword and cast some protective enchantments, then took off my Amulet of Shadows and handed it to Calvus.

“Here, wear this,” I told him. “It’s got a Chameleon enchantment. If there’s anyone inside the manor, get behind them, and be ready.”

As luck would have it, there was someone waiting for me right inside the door – a man wearing a fancy-looking enchanted wizard’s robe. He looked a little bit like the wizard in the Great Bazaar, only a little older and a lot less swivelly-eyed.

“’Scuse me for barging in like this,” I said, with heavy irony. “I don’t suppose you’d happen to know an Ovis Velas?”

He smiled thinly. “Ah yes. Salutations… Ada Ventura, is it?” I nodded. “So nice of you to join me in my humble abode. I was all prepared to offer you a nice drink or a bite to eat before we got down to business, but you are late in coming and I don't appreciate being kept waiting, so business it shall be.”

“Business?”

His smile tightened. “I can sense you’ve already made the acquaintance of my unfortunate brother.”

“You mean the guy who just tried to kill me, I take it.” He inclined his head. “Then perhaps you would be the great Velas wizard people are talking about?”

“Yes, Ovis always did like to take credit for my exploits,” he said with a shrug. “Too bad that this time, in trying to become my doppelganger, it would appear he went too far. I understand your position, Ada – you have to defend yourself. But I also must ask you to understand mine – I have to avenge my brother.”

My heart sank. The last thing I needed was another crazed wizard trying to kill me, and this time one that was actually competent. But it was too late to back out now.

“Yes, well,” I said wearily. “Before we start the revenge, I guess I should make the standard disclaimer. I take it you’re aware that I’m the Nerevarine? Responsible for the deaths of various crime kingpins, Telvanni wizards and god-like entities?”

“I am.”

Some people never learn, I guess. “Well, it’s your funeral,” I said. “So what’s it to be, then?”

“A duel is called for,” he said calmly, “and there is no time like the present. Prepare yourself, Ada Ventura. Thy doom is imminent, and I have other matters to attend to.”

Before I had time to do anything – even breathe – there was a shimmer in the air around me, and suddenly the room was filled with Daedra. Two Golden Saints, one on each side of me – and behind me, casting an ominous shadow over half the room, the massive bulk of an Ogrim Titan. It was roughly twice the size of a normal Ogrim, making it well over twice my height and about six times as wide.

Sheer terror focussed my mind into sharp clarity. Velas No. 2’s next spell whizzed over my head as I dived to the floor, taking the only possible way out – through the Ogrim’s legs. Before the huge but slow-witted beast could work out what had happened, I was on my feet again and hacking frantically at its back with my glass frostsword.

The Golden Saints were closing in on me and I dodged aside, trying to use the Ogrim’s bulk to protect myself against them. Velas let out a yelp, and from the corner of my eye I saw him struggling with the nearly-invisible Calvus. I knew my best chance was to kill Velas as quickly as possible, sending his Daedric summons back to Oblivion, but I couldn’t get close enough to help him.

I continued to duck and dodge, getting a hit in every now and again, but mostly just trying to avoid being hit myself. Even I couldn’t fight three powerful Daedra at once for any substantial length of time. I couldn’t see Calvus, but from the sound of it he was trying to throttle the struggling wizard. “Use your sword, idiot!” I wanted to scream.

Just as I was getting worried that my glass blade was going to shatter, I heard the thump of Velas’ body hitting the floor, followed by the welcome sound of his summoned creatures disappearing into Oblivion. Calvus was standing over Velas, a wide grin spreading over his face. “So much for your god-killing feats, my lady,” he panted. “If I hadn’t been here, you’d have been done for.”

I rolled my eyes at him. “How exactly do you think I killed Dagoth Ur, Calvus? By taking him one-on-one in a fair fight?”

“Point.” He bent over Velas’ body. “Damn, this guy has some good stuff on him. A glass jinkblade! Good thing he didn’t get to use that.”

“Hey, feel free to take it. You’ve certainly earned it.”

His grin spread even wider. “I like working with you, Ada.”

I tried to grin back, but I wasn’t really in the mood. I’d only been in the city a couple of days, and already I’d faced three separate attempts on my life (not counting our trip to the Dark Brotherhood stronghold). I prayed that this one would be the last, but something told me I was being over-optimistic.

“Right,” I said, once we’d left the house and informed a guard about the wizard’s body. “Next target: goblin army. Location: ‘somewhere in the sewers’. Any idea where to start?’

Calvus thought for a moment. “Well, I’m guessing they won’t be anywhere near the Dark Brotherhood stronghold. Those guys aren’t about to share their territory. Does the Temple itself have sewers?”

“Hmm, good point,” I said. “I suppose it must. I’m not sure how to get into them, though.”

We made our way to the Temple, where the caretaker informed us that the sewers could be reached through a trapdoor in the basement. She didn’t seem too impressed when she realised we were thinking of going down there. “This temple is clean as Almalexia’s conscience, sera,” she snapped. “Mind you keep it that way.”

Interesting point, I thought. This was the Almalexia who’d stolen divine powers from a dead god’s heart, was responsible for decades of brutal religious persecution, and had quite possibly murdered her own husband. How clean was her conscience, I wonder?

We found the sewers easily enough, but we didn’t find any goblins. Apart from a couple of rats, the only living (well, un-living) things in the place were a bunch of skeletons and ancestor ghosts. One interesting thing did happen, though: as I approached one of the ghosts with sword at the ready, it called out to me in a thin, whispery voice.

“Stranger! Listen!” Calvus and I stopped dead in our tracks. “I have a message I must tell you!”

I hesitated, unsure whether to trust it. “My name is Variner,” it went on. “I was killed by the Black Dart Gang.”

The name ‘Variner’ jogged a memory. “Oh… hang on. Are you Narisa Adus’ lover? The woman in the Bazaar sewers?”

“Yes! I beg you, avenge my death.” He floated a little closer to us, causing both of us to instinctively draw back. “I was killed by the Black Dart Gang. Their hideout is in the western Temple Sewers. There is a mechanism that can flood the room, drowning the gang – find a lever that looks like a torch holder, near the east end of the chamber. But whatever you do, don’t get too close or you will join me in the afterlife.”

“Um, okay,” I said warily. “Anything else?”

“No, I have delivered my message,” he quavered. “Now, at last, my spirit may find rest, and join in peaceful silence with my ancestors.”

With that he faded away, leaving Calvus looking distinctly skeptical. “I dunno, Ada. Are you sure you want to trust that thing? I’ve heard things about the Black Dart Gang, and they sound really nasty. Even compared to the Dark Brotherhood.”

“Well, he did mention this secret mechanism,” I said cautiously. “And… well, this isn’t the first time a ghost has given me useful information.”

He blinked. “Are you serious? You get a lot of ghosts passing on messages from beyond the grave, then?”

“You’d be amazed,” I said with a sigh.

Quietly, stealthily, we made our way towards the west side of the sewers. There was no evidence that the gang were nearby, but we really didn’t want to run into any of them unprepared. Calvus had mentioned that some of their enchanted darts could easily kill an armoured warrior in one hit.

As we approached one of the sewer partitions, we realised that we were getting close. Several chests and barrels held a small treasure trove of clothes and potions – mostly stolen from the Black Dart Gang’s victims, I suspected. At least we’d make some profit on today’s adventure, assuming we made it out alive.

A door in the western wall led us into another long, bare sewer corridor. There was no one around, and nothing of interest to see. “What did the guy say?” I muttered. “Something about a lever disguised as a torch holder?”

“There,” said Calvus suddenly, pointing to a carved torch holder on the wall near the door. It looked different from the others, and there was no torch in it. I walked over to the holder, examined it for a few seconds, and gave it an experimental yank.

There was a sudden low rumbling sound off in the distance. It sounded far away, but was getting louder every moment. “Um,” I said, turning to Calvus. “I think this is where we start running.”

We rushed back into the central sewers, slamming the heavy door behind us. Only a few seconds later, the rumbling sound grew to a roar, and I thought I could hear faint cries in the distance. Neither of us dared to try the door for several minutes.

Finally, Calvus walked up to the door and pushed it a few times. It wouldn’t budge an inch. “Mission accomplished, I guess.” I screwed up my face. “Nasty way to die.”

“Yeah. On the plus side, it couldn’t happen to a more deserving bunch.” He shrugged. “Shall we leave?”

We did search the rest of the sewers for any stray goblins, but didn’t find any. What we did find was a crate of silver weapons, and – tucked away behind an outcrop of rock – an adamantium axe. Calvus’ eyes nearly bugged out of his head when he saw it. “Gods, that thing must be worth a fortune!”

“Finders keepers, I guess.” I held it out to him. “Here, you have it. I don’t use axes.”

“I – wow. Are you sure?” I nodded. “Really? I mean, you could always sell it.”

“I’m rich enough already. I told you.”

“Sheesh.” He let out a long breath. “I never thought working for you would be this dangerous, but I didn’t think it would be this profitable either.”

“Hey, I have to keep you on side. Otherwise you might go over to Helseth.” I grinned wryly, but we both knew there was a grain of truth in what I had said. I couldn’t fully trust anyone here in Mournhold, not even Calvus.

I didn’t feel up to any more goblin-hunting that day, but we did go back to the Bazaar sewers to tell Narisa her lover’s spirit was free. We were both very cautious, realising the Dark Brotherhood might have stepped up their security, but we didn’t run into anyone else apart from that weird Khajiit woman. When I told Narisa her we’d managed to wipe out the Black Dart Gang, she just stared at us in disbelief.

“They’re... dead?” she croaked. “You killed them? You killed the Black Dart Gang?”

When we explained about the flood mechanism, and showed her the stolen goods we’d recovered from the gang, she cried with joy. “It’s a miracle,” she sobbed. “Here, please. Take this.” She held out an enchanted ring. “Variner gave it to me – it belonged to his family, but I’m sure they all would want you to have it. You have my thanks, and the thanks of Variner’s family, and his spirit, and all the victims of the Black Dart Gang.”

My ever-growing collection of rings and amulets was reaching quite insane proportions, but this one did look pretty useful. It had a Charm enchantment, similar to my own Voice of the Emperor spell, and charming people was an area where I could always use extra help. Besides, I couldn’t refuse it when she looked so happy and grateful.

We escorted Narisa back to the sewer entrance, where she hugged us both repeatedly and swore her eternal gratitude. “I’ll write all about you in the next issue,” she told me.

“Next issue?”

“Oh… didn’t I tell you? I’m a journalist.” Calvus and I looked blankly at each other. “Don’t you know what that is? It means that I write articles for newssheets. That’s how my poor Variner died, following a story about the Black Dart Gang.”

“Newssheets? Like the Common Tongue?”

“Oh no!” she exclaimed hastily. “Well… yes, that is a newssheet, but I don’t write for that one. Accusing the King of murder is a good way to get yourself killed in this city.”

How ironic, I thought. “Well, thanks for telling me,” I said out loud. “I’ll remember to come to you if I ever want any juicy gossip.”

“Always. Here, I’ll give you my address.” She wrote it down for me before hurrying off, presumably eager to clean herself up after a week in the sewers. Calvus and I went to the smithy to sell off the extra weapons we’d collected – apart from the adamantium axe, which he wanted to keep ‘just in case’ – and then headed back home for food, baths and a well-earned rest.

This post has been edited by Helena: Feb 27 2011, 12:18 AM

Great, a double dose of Ada this weekend!

I think you have an extra word in this.