Thank you all for the kind words.

Minque, I hope your trip goes well. I'm highly honored[1] that you even checked the story while in a hotel lobby[2].

Some good news on this story: I'm in the groove ... finally. The installments should be happening at a faster rate. The questions that were holding the story back have been answered. I now have certain plot things resolved and have decided which sidequests and subplots will be dropped.[3]

And yes, it's still going to be dark and bleak, but hey, that's the way the Tribunal main quest is supposed to go. I'm not fighting it anymore, I'm running with it: sometimes the problem is the solution.


--
[1] - I'm not worthy!
[2] - clear cookies and passwords when you are done!
[3] - hint for game fanfic authors: cheat/walkthrough sites are really handy!

Rashelle blushes and says "aww shucks". She scuffs one booted foot with the other.

I cant believe I wrote this in such a short time! The story is almost writing itself now.

Edit: complete with it's own continuity errors - woops ... fixed

--
Chapter 5. Assassination Plot



I entered the throne room. My black hair and eyes, well-known sword and my particular combination of armor identified me as Rashelle the Nerevarine; no one tried to bar my entry.

Of course there were many guards in the throne room. Any attempt on my part to attack Helseth would not have been successful. As stated before, that was not my intent. My intent was to figure out what was actually going on.

The room fell silent save for the sound of my ebony boots on the floor. A guard darted in front of me and stopped me with a gesture.

"At ease, guard. We would give an audience to the Nerevarine. Permit her to approach us."

The guard stepped aside. I nodded to him and approached Helseth. I remained standing. He stood up.

He was a Dunmer, clad in rich robes. A crown was upon his head. He had a neatly trimmed goatee. His ears had been ... truncated: they were no longer pointed Mer ears but were now shaped like Man ears. Gold had been embedded in the flesh where the points used to be.

"Sire, why are your ears like that?"

That's me, all the court manners of an ogrim. One day this business of saying exactly what is on my mind without thinking first will get me into trouble. This time I got lucky: he laughed.

"It is a show of unity with the Empire, with the non-Elven races."

I nodded. Strange but it made sense in a twisted way, I guess.

I then noticed a look in his eye. I had seen that look before. Most men, even in these modern times, really do not approve of strong active women. They would rather we stayed in the kitchen, barefoot and pregnant, while the men had all the fun. Many men will come to respect and appreciate strong women over time, but they essentially relate to us as if we were other men.

A small fraction of men, however, get weak in the knees when they encounter women who can swing a sword, wield an axe, smash with a war-hammer, be aggressive and cast spells. They get gooey eyed: they absolutely become enchanted with us.

Helseth was this latter type. Too bad for him; I was not at all interested in him in that way. Still, it would help negotiations.

From my pack I pulled out the insigniad Dark Brotherhood helm. I showed it to him.

He looked at it and his eyes widened. He had noticed the insignia.

"Why?" I asked softly.

"Some of our advisors had incorrectly indicated that you might have designs on our Throne. It was seen as necessary to prevent this. We can see now that this was a mistake on our part. You will not be troubled by this sort of thing again."

He seemed almost embarrassed. I gave him credit for not denying it.

I would never want to rule. Uneasy lies the one that sits the throne. Helseth could never go explore a Daedric shrine for fun. He could never simply wander in a market place. He would never be able to get away and watch the sun rise while seated on the roof of Scar in Ald'ruhn. He would always live in fear of assassination. He could never have even one moment alone. To be a monarch was to be a prisoner. That kind of life was not for me.

I felt sorry for him.

I believed him.

He handed the helm back to me. I placed it in my pack.

"We are concerned with a possible plot on our royal person and would like you to assist in this matter."

I nodded.

"Excellent. We would like you to meet with one of our agents. You are to use a code phrase. Speak to him of his uncle's farm. He is an Orc named Bakh gro-Sham and you will find him in the Winged Guar in Godsreach. Return to us with whatever information he gives you."

I nodded and departed.

Soon I was in the Winged Guar. I wondered if I should get a room here instead of teleporting back and forth to Vvardenfell every day.

Since there was only one Orc in the place it was easy to ascertain who I had to talk to.

I introduced myself and asked about his uncles farm.

He rolled his eyes.

"I yi yi! Enough with the dumb code phrases. Our boss is so paranoid: he drives me nuts, scurrying about after false rumors. He sees intrigues everywhere. He's a great guy but he really needs to switch to a weaker tea."

I snorted and giggled.

"However, Rashelle, this time he may be right: there is a plot. It is not directed at him though, no. It is a planned attempt on the queen-mother's life."

I raised an eyebrow.

"You didn't know that she is here in Mournhold?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about."

"He sent you to test me, didn't he?"

I remained silent.

"OK. Look, Rashelle, it's like this: King Helseth's mother, the retired queen Barenziah, has recently moved back to Mournhold. She is an elegant, sophisticated and kind woman."

"Oh."

"I was not able to get any specific information. I do not know who is behind it or why they would want to kill her."

"Thank you, Bakh gro-Sham."

He nodded and I returned to the palace.

"This agrees with what information we have received from our other agents", said Helseth after my brief report.

Did he always refer to himself in the plural?

"Rashelle, if our regular guards were stationed in the Queen's chamber, it would alert the assassins. We do not desire that. We would like you to stand guard tomorrow night. That is when the assassins will attack, according to our other sources."

"I will do this."

"Excellent."

"You may wish to speak to her. She is in her chambers now and we believe she would like to meet the Nerevarine."

I nodded. He gave me directions and I went.

Like all Dunmer, she was taller than I am. I had met many rulers and authority figures but few had the poise and bearing that queen Barenziah had. I wished she were still ruling.

She offered me tea. We talked for a time.

"My son sees conspiracies everywhere. While a measure of paranoia is required for a king, I do hope that in time he will learn to tone it down to a reasonable level. He's a bit rash as well: he needs to work on that."

I nodded. The less I speak, the more other people speak and I found her very interesting to listen to.

"Have you met Plitinius Mero? He is here in Mournhold now. He wrote an unauthorized biography of me and was in some trouble from the Empire for it. I protected him from this and he has remained loyal to me ever since. He is truly an intelligent and educated man and he is a wealth of information on many subjects. You will find that he is one of the few trustworthy people around here."

She was essentially telling me to trust no one but her and this writer friend of hers. I'm sure everyone in the Court of Helseth would say similar things: "trust no one but me." Despite that, I found myself liking her. Perhaps she made me think of the mother I never had.

Still, "like" did not automatically mean trust.

That night I lodged at the Winged Guar.

I had all of the next day to myself. I started the day off by sleeping late. After that I was provided with a tub of hot water. It was nice not to have to make trips to and from the river. Some may wonder that, while I dislike water, I enjoy baths. The fact is that I dislike large water that one can drown in. A tub of water was another matter: it was small water. It was controlled.

I explored the city for a time. In Godsreach I saw my friend Salas Valor. He was grumbling to himself. That was odd behavior for an ordinator.

"Salas, are you OK?"

He growled for a second and then stopped.

"Oh, hello Rashelle. I am well, thanks for asking."

And I can sell you a bridge in the Azura's Coast region.

I had a bag of candied comberries that I had bought in the Great Bazaar: I offered it to him and he removed his helm and took one.

"Thank you Rashelle. So how are you today?"

"I am fine. I had a good night's sleep and yesterday I got to meet Almalexia."

"Her!" he said angrily and stormed off.

I made a mental note to myself to avoid speaking of Almalexia to Salas. That was very puzzling. It was rude of him to walk away like but I was too concerned to be offended: he was moody but he was still my friend.

Looking up, I could see that the sun had not yet reached its zenith. I had a lot of time to kill before my job tonight.

I recalled that distraught woman I had met in the sewers the other day: it was time for me to deal with the Black Dart Gang.

I found the ghost of Variner in a dead end of the Temple Sewers that I had overlooked before. I could distinguish him from other ghosts by the fact that he did not attack. I approached him cautiously and he began to speak. He identified himself as Variner and related his story to me.

I told him of my intention to deal with the matter. He cautioned me about the darts.

"One dart does a lot of damage, instantly. You look rather tough so two darts would be needed to kill you."

I raised an eyebrow in frank disbelief.

"Rashelle, you must believe me! These darts have heinous enchantments on them. Some of them have equally strong and fast-acting poisons. One hit for a normal person, two hits for you, and ... bam! you're dead!"

Variner told me what armor and weapons he had when he was killed. He related to me his skills and abilities. I was finally convinced. I would have to be careful.

He gave me directions and explained that there was a lever near a torch in a certain location. The lever was used for sewer maintenance: pulling it would flood the entire eastern part of the sewers without affecting the central part. This would kill the Black Dart Gang easily.

It was a long twisty walk, essentially north and east, from Variner to the door I wanted. Someone had scratched "temple sewers west" on it. This confirmed Variner's directions. Chameleon ring on and moving silently, I slowly eased the door open. I sneaked through the doorway.

Since one dart could take someone out almost instantly, I might not have time to take a healing potion. I needed to be very stealthy ... more so than I had been when dealing with the goblins. Focus Rashelle: move slowly, do not rush.

No one was nearby. I quietly closed the door behind me.

The sewer corridor rose up ahead of me and then turned right. Keeping to the left side, I followed it.

I was not going to use the lever. What if innocents were here? I was not the only adventurer wandering the sewers.

I recalled one such that I had seen the other day: a woman with short blond hair, Breton with a hint of Bosmer about her, wearing next to nothing. A metal hoop a hand-span or so in diameter had hung at her side. She had been armed with two odd-looking daggers. She had talked to herself constantly; pausing as if listening to an invisible companion. Obviously she was quite mad. A wave of sadness came over me as I remembered her. What had driven her to that state?

There were some strange people down in the sewers, but I did not want to kill them by mistake.

I reached the turn and examined some crates that where there. I found nothing of interest, just some plates and some clothing. The clothing made me think of Dilborn and I smiled.

At a maddeningly time-consuming pace, I continued to creep along the sewer. After a time it ramped down and then turned left and then left again.

I sneakily traversed a great deal of sewer and there were no goblins, no undead, not even any rats. Someone was keeping this area clean of creatures.

The sewer corridor curved to the right and I followed.

It turned to the left and then split. I looked to the left and saw two Dunmer. I didn't see any weapons on them but something as small as a dart I would not be able to make out in this light at this distance.

Were they Black Dart Gang, or innocents? I did not want to mistakenly kill a simple fellow adventurer.

"Hey there," I called out, "Are you the ..."

With alarming speed, two darts flew inches away from my head.

Right. That answered my question.

I cast a large fireball and darted back the way I came. I ran, weaving sideways in a deliberately random fashion so as to make it more difficult for their projectiles to hit me.

The only sounds were the clattering of darts to either side and my footsteps.

I was drawing ahead: good. I stopped to summon two atronaches and then dove to one side, behind a rock outcrop I had passed earlier.

I knew short work would be made of my atronaches but they would serve as a distraction: now the two gang members would not know exactly where I was.

I crouched behind the rock and began to drink Restore Health potions.

My flame atronach lasted a few seconds longer than the frost atronach. The two Dunmer approached.

At this point I had just consumed twelve potions and I expected that this would be enough to counteract even Black Darts. I leaped from behind the rock and charged.

Both Dunmer threw darts and as I swung my sword I could feel the poison's action. As my sword cut through the first Mer I could feel that my potions were counteracting the poison nicely.

The remaining Mer tried to jab a dart in my face. I kicked him away. He managed to throw one dart before I dispatched him. This one had a powerful fire enchantment on it, which my birth-sign dealt with.

I could still feel the poison working and I knew that the effect of my potions was about to wear off, so I cast a spell to cure poison.

A search of the bodies yielded a rather spiffy new collection of very deadly darts.

I suppose I had a feral grin as I examined some of the nastier darts. The rest of the gang were going to have a taste of their own medicine.

As stealthy as before, I resumed my explorations. I again reached the branching and I turned left.

This transitioned to a narrow cavern. I continued along this and it bent to the right. I spotted a Dunmer before he spotted me. Since I had already ascertained that this was Black Dart territory, I was able to silently take him down without hesitation.

I increased my dart collection and followed the cave passage. This entered a cave occupied by another Dunmer.

Using only one dart, I killed him. I found more darts on the body.

It took me a while to explore the whole area but there were no other occupants aside from those four Dunmer. I had gotten rid of the Black Dark Gang.

When I returned to Variner, he thought otherwise.

"There is one more. I can sense him. I think he is in the Temple Sewers East."

I opened the door to the Eastern area of the Temple sewers. The fifth member of the Black dart gang was only a few paces behind that door. He threw one dart and then another. Both bounced off my cuirass and I hit him with a fireball. A third dart hit me in the shoulder. Through an intense wave of agony, I cast another fireball. The fetcher had put both poison and an enchantment on this dart. My birth-sign had diffused the enchantment, but the poison was burning in my veins. I fell to the floor.

I slammed down a healing potion and then another one. My vision was dimming. I tossed back a third potion and a fourth.

That had been far too close.

Only then did I think to look around me. Fortunately my fireball had finished my attacker.

I headed for the Bazaar sewers.

Upon reaching Narisa Adus I told her what had occurred.

"They're... dead?" she gasped in disbelief. "You killed them? You killed the Black Dart Gang? It's... a miracle. Here. Please. Take this. Variner gave it to me -- it belonged to his family. 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."

I nodded and thanked her. I didn't want another ring but it would crush her if I refused it. It had an enchantment on it: one could use it to make oneself slightly more charming for a short time.

When I reached the surface I could see that it was sunset.

I had dinner at the Winged Guar and then went to the palace.

"... and keep this door bolted," I cautioned Barenziah.

"I will, Rashelle. Good night."

I blew out the candle and stood in the darkness. After a time, my eyes adjusted. Light leaking under the two doors allowed me to navigate the room. I moved to the corner I had chosen before.

I was now stationed partially behind a wall screen. This wall screen was close to the door that led to Barenziah's bedroom. The door on the opposite side of the room led to the rest of the castle. Assassins would have to enter though that door.

I slipped on my chameleon ring and waited. I was patient; I was focused.

After some time the far door opened. Three figures entered. They were dressed in dark brotherhood armor. Hadn't I gotten rid of them?

"That's the door there, then," one muttered.

"let's just get this over with, OK?"

I would think that real Dark Brotherhood would be silent during a job. These men had the voices of Imperials. Every dark brotherhood assassin that I had slain had been a Dunmer ... mostly male, some female, but all Dunmer.

I darted out and slew one with Chrysamere. The other two put up more of a fight. I dodged a jinkblade and turned to parry another. I continued my turn so that I spun around. Thus enabled me to kick one of them. He flew across the room.

A jinkblade cut into my arm. My birth-sign absorbed the paralyze spell and I ran my attacker through with Chrysamere.

I had not yet extracted the blade when the other assassin recovered from his flight. He sprang at me. I used the body of his late associate to block the attack.

I spun around and I kicked him in the chest.

Chrysamere finally free, I dispatched him.

I waited silently: I was listening to see if there were any more.

Nothing happened.

My arm was now really hurting. I took a healing potion. I cast Night eye and searched the bodies. There were no papers or signet rings or any other identification: just three dead Imperial men in Dark Brotherhood armor.

Just to be on the safe side, I stayed the rest of the night. There were no further attacks.

This post has been edited by blockhead: Apr 30 2007, 12:05 PM

Hmm, you got me interested in those assassins now. The way you described them, they sound like some small thugs who've been picked from the streets and dressed up in DB armour.


And I can totally agree with [3]. I don't have any expansion yet I'm still writing Bloodmoon, sort of. Things like the UESP rock!

This post has been edited by jack cloudy: Apr 29 2007, 12:19 PM

Yeah: in the game the assassins are Dunmer males but the three that attack B's room are Imperials. This is never really explained in the game.

By now you can probably pick up both expansions (or just get the GOTY version) almost for nothing. If only for the tile sets and other modding resources, you should get them. Also, with bloodmoon installed you can then play Lokken!

Very nice addition, even if you misspelled Almalexia twice.

About the assassins: Since the Dark Brotherhood is not a purely Dunmer guild, it is possible that the assassins that tried to kill Barenziah do belong to the Dark Brotherhood. And the ones in the sewers were probably all Dunmer because this is Morrowind, their home. And since you Rashelle already killed the ones beneath Mournhold, the new ones were likely sent from another province.

Just my two cents, keep up the good work!

Oops. Thank you. Found and fixed. Her name is the hardest one to type out of all of these twisty Morrowind names.

Ahhh! i like the way you depict Helseth! You let him speak in second person...that is sooo royal! Also I found a quote that I fell for..



So Rashelle-ish!

I have decided..I´ll write a Tribunal-sequel ...that is..I´ll use the charachters but not necessarily all the plots!

He does it in the game so I had to Plus it gives Rashelle something to remark upon. And it is fun to write his dialog.

Your idea is cool. Since it would take place after the events in the game you could make it a less bleak story and you could still use some of the funnier side-quests ... oh but please please finish Serene's story first. I need to know what happens.

p.s. - I have no story update today: maybe tomorrow. Today I got inspired and worked on chapter 8 ... but the problem is, I need to write chapters 6 and 7 still - doh!


This post has been edited by blockhead: May 2 2007, 01:28 AM

Chapter 6. Attack



After breakfasting with Barenziah, I reported the events of the night to Helseth.

"We are thankful for this service you have performed for us and the Queen Mother."

I began to wish that the king would heed his Orc agent's advice on the weaker tea.

"We would like you to further prove your mettle by dueling our champion, Karrod."

He gestured to a Redguard man in a set of Royal Guard Armor that lacked only a helm.

"Pardon?" I said to him.

"Rashelle, in a days time we wish you prove your strength and abilities by fighting Karrod, our champion."

I looked to the Redguard again. He remained expressionless and silent.

"Karrod does not speak. I met him when he was a child. He was trying to steal from me," explained Helseth. "The audacity of this mute child impressed me and I took him in and had him trained. Karrod is now a master of all melee weapons. He is the most loyal of my servants."

I see. It seemed to me that this test was pointless, as little things like removing that pesky Dagoth Ur should have established my credentials.

"This isn't to the death, is it?"

I didn't want to kill anyone.

"No," he said, mistaking my apprehension for eagerness, "it is until one of you yields."

I nodded. Good.

"Sire, why wait? I am ready now."

He raised an eyebrow. I flexed a bicep.

He looked towards Karrod. I did also.

Karrod shrugged.

"Very well then. We permit this to happen now. Remember. this is until one of you yields: It is not to the death. You may use any melee weapon and any spells."

Helseth stepped away from the throne. The guards all stepped back to the perimeter of the room. Karrod and I had the center of the room to ourselves.

I drew Chrysamere. He drew a rather strange-looking sword. The blade was was curved, yet not like a scimitar, and wide. The blade was spiky. The luster of the metal was unusual. It reminded me of Dwemer metal, save that it was not golden in hue.

He swung, I parried and the battle was on. We fought back and forth across the center of the room for some time, neither one of us getting through the other's guard. Helseth's statements had not been empty boasting: Karrod was good.

I darted in and hammered his cuirass with Chrysamere. Lesser armor would have split at the impact. I parried a swing and tried it again.

He parried and punched me with his other hand, right in the jaw. Stupid Rashelle: it's a one-handed blade so his other hand is free.

I kicked and his sword went spinning away. It narrowly missed a guard.

Instead of running for his weapon, he charged at me. I swung. He ducked under my swing and pulled one of my legs. As I fell I gave him a stiff kick with the other leg and he flew away from me. I slammed to the floor but was up again before he came back at me.

Chrysamere bounced off of his cuirass again and I followed that with a kick to the side of his head. This was risky on my part because it could have killed him. I did try to somewhat "pull" my kick, though.

He was down. I stomped a boot down on his cuirass and, shifting my grip from the hilt to the blade, placed the point of Chrysamere a fraction of an inch from his eye.

"Slap your hand on the floor if you yield."

He did so.

I lifted my blade and darted away. I wanted some distance in case he was going to be dishonorable about it.

He sat up and said; "I yield, friend Rashelle. I honor the terms of the duel."

I thought he didn't speak. I looked to Helseth and raised an eyebrow.

Helseth looked shocked.

I sheathed Chrysamere. I walked over to Karrod, who was grinning.

"Rashelle, that was amazing! No one has even beaten me before."

I held out a potion and said: "Karrod, please drink this healing potion."

He took it from my hand but hesitated.

"Karrod. I will not poison you: we are surrounded by witnesses. I kicked you in the head with an ebony boot and the effects of a blow to the head sometimes go unnoticed until later: please take the potion now."

He did.

One of the guards handed him his sword.

Karrod then held the sword out to me, hilt first.

"Rashelle, my father passed this sword on to me just as his father before him had. He said that someday, someone will come who will be the rightful owner of this blade. He ..." Karrod grinned and then continued, "... she will be the only one to beat me in a fair fight."

I was moved. I took the sword.

"Thank you Karrod."

I paused. I was not going to give up Chrysamere.

"I am sorry Karrod, but I have nothing to give you."

He smiled an even bigger smile.

"Friend Rashelle, do not fret. You have given me a glorious fight. You have fulfilled the prophecy of my family: my vow of public silence is lifted. This is a great day, thanks to you."

I extended my hand and helped him stand up. By "public silence" I assume he meant that in private circumstances he still spoke. Presumably he talked only to Helseth: I can imagine Helseth's joy back when he first discovered a servant who would only speak to him.

"We are impressed with your ability to best our champion," declared Helseth. "We may have other tasks for you at some later time."

I nodded and exited the throne room.

Having determined that Helseth was no longer trying to kill me, and having established suitable good will, realized that I no longer had a pressing reason to stay in Mournhold.

I wanted to study Karrod's blade but walking around with a drawn sword in the city is generally frowned upon. I left it wedged between my pack and the sheathed Chrysamere. It would have to wait until I arrived at my room in the Winged Guar. Once there, I also to intended to get some sleep: I had been up all night, after all

I walked through the Plaza Brindisi Dorom, idly studying the statue in the center as I headed in the direction of the door that led to Godsreach. The statue depicted a battle between Almalexia and a daedra prince but I could not recall which one.

I entered Godsreach and strolled along the general direction of the Winged Guar. The blue architecture was certainly pretty, but I was missing the drab yet familiar scenery of Vvardenfell.

I ran into Salas. He was in better humor today. Our conversation turned to his past and it turned out he had originally come from Vvardenfell. He had spent some time in Balmora before deciding the join the temple.

He was relating an amusing story about Ranis Athrys in the Mages Guild when I heard a commotion in the distance.

At first I could not tell were the sound was coming from. I could see nothing unusual in Godsreach itself.

From the door to the Plaza ran a naked Nord yelling something about "creatures" emerging from the ground.

Normally I would not believe anything a running naked Nord says but I could now tell that the noises were coming from that direction: it sounded like combat.

I ran to investigate.

Two more people emerged from the door before I reached it. I ran through and beheld an astounding sight.

The Plaza was under attack by creatures of a sort that I had never seen before. There were two types. The first type was long and thin and white. It seemed to be partially mechanical. It had a tail that was constructed of metal segments and its limbs looked mechanical as well. Its body did not look mechanical, however. The head was extended on a long thin neck. Its snout was topped by a large spike that it used with great effect as a weapon. It had spikes along its back.

The second type was thicker and heavier-looking. It was a dark dull maroon in color and it scuttled along like a crab. It had a spiked tail that it used as a weapon: lashing out with deceptive quickness to do great damage. I suppose it was more like a scorpion than a crab.

The royal guards and ordinators were fighting together against the creatures. I saw at least one dead guard already. It looked like the civilians had already all fled the plaza.

The statue in the middle now lay in several pieces. As I watched, another creature emerged from it: they were coming from underground, through a hole where the statue had been.

I drew Chrysamere and ran to join the fray. I did not know entirely what was going on but I could see that the creatures were hostile.

A royal guard was being set upon by two of the thinner type. Chrysamere bit into one of them before it realized I was there. Now that I was closer I could see metal rods that were part of the creature: they moved as it moved. I was reminded of Dwemer constructs, although these were not the usual golden metallic finish.

It swung to attack me and the guard used this opportunity to chop its long sinuous neck. Perfectly ordinary blood gushed from its neck as it fell.

The second creature clubbed the guard with its head. I slashed into its side. It gave a strange cry and turned towards me. The guard slashed its other side. The creature fell. I thrust through where I guessed its heart was located. The creature twitched once and was still.

I pulled my blade from the body. The guard and I nodded to each other and ran to help the other combatants.

An ordinator was being attacked by one of the heavier type. He tried to swing but the tail whipped forward with alarming speed and with a crack of breaking armor he went flying. I hit the creature with a fireball. The creature recoiled as if in pain but I saw no great effect from the fireball. I tried a frostball. The creature shook it off and scurried towards me.

One of the thinner creatures attacked from my side. I dodged it and Chrysamere struck. Through the corner of my eye I could see more creatures issuing forth from the hole where the statue had been.

An ordinator and a royal guard tore into the thin creature attacking me. The heavy creature reached me just about then: they were not as fast as the light ones. The average man or mer could outrun them.

I dodged the tail and slashed at the head. My sword connected but the creature was not significantly effected. The creature tried to strike me with a large foreleg. I dodged and slammed my blade into its head again.

That tail knocked me back. Stupid, Rashelle: keep an eye on that!

I rolled out of the way as the tail struck again. Pivoting one knee I managed to get another slash in. I cut one its forelegs off and dodged its tail again. I stood up and chopped down: successfully beheading the creature.

The heavy ones were definitely the tougher of the two types.

The combat continued. Eventually I noticed that there didn't seem to be any more coming up from the hole. In a short time we dispatched the remainder of them. The attack seemed to be over.

I gave potions to the wounded and then I examined a few of the creatures.

As I inspected the corpse of one of the white creatures, I noticed an object in one of its wounds: I reach in and extracted a vial. It had been embedded in the flesh. It looked exactly like an alchemy vial. I opened it and sniffed. It seemed to be an ordinary fortify speed potion. Why was it embedded in the flesh of a half machine creature?

I found another body and cut into it in the same area as in the previous one. There was a potion in this one as well. How very odd.

In the corpse of one of the creatures of the heavier type I also found a vial: this one was a simple yet powerful fortify strength potion.

Were the creatures supposed to dig into their own flesh to take a potion? It made no sense at all.

I stood up and placed the potions in my pack. I was about to go take a look into that hole but an ordinator asked me to go inform Fedris at the temple. That was a higher priority than poking around a hole so I cast Almsivi intervention.

I entered the Temple reception area and found Fedris. I told him what had occurred.

"Thank you Rashelle. A runner has already given me this news but I appreciate your effort. While you are here, there may be task you can for you could do for the Lady."

I nodded.

"From your description, and that of the runner, it seems these creatures are partially mechanical. I am wondering if they are some as yet undiscovered type of Dwemer construct.

"I would like you to descend into the hole in the plaza and and see where these creatures came from. Why did they come now, and not at any time during the the construction of the city or the centuries after?"

That was a really good question.

I nodded and was on my way.

This post has been edited by blockhead: May 5 2007, 08:44 PM

Just caught up. I had a lot a material to go through I must. That's certainly not a bad thing though. You must be pretty quick to write these things when they're so big yet so frequent. I envy that because like three pages for me take like 3 hours (though I'm also working at the same time so that might affect that).

Anyways, lots of cool and interesting stuff has been happening. I like all of Rashelle's smartass remarks and all that. She definitely has a personality all to her own; which is immediately identifiable. I also must comment that Rashelle must have a room just filled with Restore Health Potions just because she seems to drink those suckers down as if they were water with all the danger she gets herself in.

Keep it up, I should be posting more frequently once more. You didn't lose this fan!

Thanks. Normally I don't write this fast. I gained a skill point or something.


In-game, when I open the inventory screen for her, she's got like 200+ homemade Restore Health potions. Wherever she goes, she is constantly on the lookout for marshmerrow, saltrice, corkbulb, corprus weepings and other Restore Health ingredients. Recall in chapter Two she brewed up several batches. However, since she did use even more than usual, in the next chapter I'll have her make more.

As for her personality and dialog: sometimes she surprises me and writes herself!


Thank you! Coolness!

Chapter 7. Ashes



I returned to the Plaza. Things seemed to have settled down to some new state of normalcy. Ordinators and Royal Guards warily avoided each other as they patrolled. People had returned to the plaza, probably out of curiosity.

An ordinator informed me that no one had gone down the hole even though someone had produced a ladder.

I ascended the base of the statue and looked down. The hole appeared entirely black in contrast to the sunlight.

I cast Night Eye and then put a foot on the ladder. I then descended.

The ladder terminated in a sort of rock bridge in a small cave. The floor of the cave was still deeper and was obscured by running water. Presumably the water supply for the fountain in the Plaza was now leaking down, possibly forming a new underground river. Faint lighting was provided by some luminous mushrooms.

The rock bridge that I was standing on led to a passage in the north wall. I put on my chameleon ring and carefully followed the passage.

It turned to the right and downwards.

After a time it opened up into emptiness.

Actually it was a rather large room but my first impression was that of infinity. The actual floor of the room was a long way down: I was standing in a hole in the wall that must have been excavated by the creatures.

Large pillars supported the ceiling and one or two of them had collapsed in such as way as to provide a means of ascent from the floor to the passage.

Speaking of creatures, I saw some down below. They were fighting with ... "regular" Dwemer constructs, the type 1 and type 2 animalcules as well as the bipedal steam centurions.

Some of these centurions were larger than the others ... perhaps they were some advanced type not found in the Dwemer ruins up in Vvardenfell?

The fact that the Dwemer robots were fighting the creatures suggested to me that they were not of Dwemer origin. Also, as Fedris had said, the Dwemer ruins had been here for centuries and no Dwemer machinery had ever come up before.

So if these were not Dwemer creatures, whose were they?

It looked like the Dwemer robots were winning: yay for the Dwemer. Of course, I was also viewed as an intruder. This fact was brought home to me as a projectile whizzed by my ear.

I ducked back into the passage for a moment. I then slowly crawled back. I edged my head carefully past the hole and saw what I had not noticed before: some of what I thought were regular "type 2" sphere centurions were actually of a new type that I had not seen before: their spheres opened up in a different way and, more importantly, they were capable of shooting some sort of Dwemer darts. I dubbed this new type the "centurion archer".

I sneaked back a few feet and found a dart. This was the one that had missed me just before. I picked it up and examined it. It was actually a bit large to be thought of as a dart: it was more a throwing dagger. There were no enchantments nor poison on it. It had that characteristic golden metal look of all Dwemer manufacture.

I touched the edge lightly and immediately blood emerged from my finger: the dart was wickedly sharp. I could see that hits from just a few of these would easily cut someone apart.

I had ascertained that the creatures that had attacked the Plaza were not of the Dwemer.

I retraced my route to the cave with the ladder and then ascended to the Plaza. The ordinators and royal guards cheered as I emerged. This last almost made me want to dart back into the hole: it was most unexpected.

"It's a Dwemer ruin," I said. "There were some more of these ... things ..."

I pointed to one of the corpses that still littered the Plaza before continuing, "... down there but they have been cut down by the various centurions. Apparently they are not Dwemer."

I returned to the temple and presented Fedris with this news.

"Most interesting. Unless they attack again I guess we will never know what it was all about."

I nodded.

"In the mean time, the Lady wishes to speak to you."

I nodded and headed for Almalexia's chamber.

She was as she had been before. Maybe these former gods/goddesses were able to live without sleep?

"Rashelle, I am concerned about the End Of Times cult."

"Pardon?"

"They are a cult who are at odds with the temple."

Like the Dissident Priests had been? This time I had the sense to remain silent.

"There have been several suicides around Mournhold. My agents indicate that they may have been members of this new cult. They apparently recruit people and then somehow convince them to kill themselves. I must protect my people, Rashelle. This danger must be stopped."

I nodded.

"Rashelle: find Eno Romari and stop him. Do not kill him. If you kill him, he will be seen as a martyr and his cult will grow. I do not want that."

I nodded and went on my way.

I did not think that there was a great urgency to this mission so I returned to my room at the Winged Gaur to catch up on some needed sleep.

When I awoke I realized that recent events had drained my stock of Restore Health potions: it was time to make more. As I had not yet found a vender in Mournhold who carried the necessary ingredients in bulk, I returned to Vvardenfell.

Only when I had made several batches and stowed them in my pack did I return to Mournhold.

I returned to Mournhold and began my investigation into the matter of the End Of Times cult. I spoke with several people and eventually the picture began to emerge. The suicides were part of a new death cult, as Almalexia had said. The leader (and only surviving member?) of this cult was indeed Eno Romari. He was a Dunmer and was often found in the Godsreach area, preaching to the gullible.

There are always the gullible. A madman is nothing without fools to follow him.

Salas had heard of Eno.

"Yeah, I've seen him here in Godsreach. He's a tall Dunmer in a white robe that could use a cleaning. I don't want to get involved in that, Rashelle: he could be right for all we know. He's not breaking the law so do not pester me about this again!"

I frowned.

"I'm sorry Rashelle, it's just ... argh, no ... I cannot speak of that."

I wished I could help. Something was bothering him and had been for some time. If he didn't find a way to deal with it soon, he'd go nuts.

I bid him good day and continued my search.

Ironically enough, Eno was standing just outside of the Winged Gaur. His robe indeed could use a cleaning. He was preaching to a Bosmer and a Dunmer woman. I strode toward them.

The Bosmer said "Guar patties" and turned away.

The Dunmer woman also turned away, rolling her eyes. I could not help but grin.

"Are you Eno Romari?" I said.

"Yes, my child, have you come to hear the truth."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Nerevarine, certainly someone such as yourself who has experienced the practical side of religion would be more open minded."

I nodded.

"The daedra are not our ancestors. They do not seek to protect us. Man and Mer are their playthings. The Tribunal are weakening and can no longer protect us. Sotha Sil had made no public appearance in centuries. Almalexia and Vivec also have become more reclusive. Their powers have faded."

I had to concede that Eno had things spot-on so far. With the Heart gone, the Tribunal were mortal. I had never trusted the daedra, save for Azura. They were strange creatures, different from mortals in motivation and thought.

"The time is coming soon when the daedra will break through the barrier and descend into Nirn to ravage the land."

I recalled reading of a pact between Sotha Sil and the Daedra Princes ... but that had been a long time ago. Perhaps with the loss of the Heart's power, that pact was no longer binding .

"Members participate in the The Cleansing. They go ahead to join our ancestors. They will serve to protect us in the coming battle with the daedra."

I began to realize what he meant. The Dunmer had always practiced ancestor worship. They believed that the spirits of departed family members still watched over them. Having raided many a tomb I had encountered enough of them to believe this.

What Eno was advocating was that they bring on more ancestor spirits before the daedra made their move. It had a certain logic to it, but it involved suicide and it would not work.

"You are telling people to kill themselves to fight the daedra."

He looked away.

"You have no way of knowing if that will work. You Dunmer have centuries of ancestors lurking about. They don't have much power compared to daedra, Eno: I've fought enough of them to know this. Your idea will not work!"

"You do not know what you are talking about." he retorted.

"Eno, look at me. You know who I am. You know of some of the things I have experienced. I have spoken with the dead. I have fought daedra. Have you?"

"Well ... "

"Let me ask you this: have you been contacted by anyone who has gone through this Cleansing of yours."

"Well, I uh ..."

He stopped. I waited. Eventually I realized he was not going to say anything.

"Eno. The answer to that question is 'yes' or 'no'. Have any of the people you sent to die come back and talked to you?"

He was silent. He would not answer me.

"The answer is 'no', isn't it? You talked those people into killing themselves for no reason, didn't you?"

He nodded, then looked down at the ground.

"Eno you must stop preaching of the end of times."

"I will."

Something in the tone of his voice gave me a suspicion that he was planning to do something very stupid.

"Eno?"

"Yes?"

"Do not kill yourself."

"I must atone."

Yes, I had guessed correctly.

"If you do that, you will become a martyr. More will kill themselves in your name. It could go on for years. How many more will die? You cannot take back the deaths you have caused but you can prevent further deaths, and to do this you must remain alive."

Sadly, he nodded.

Good.

I returned to Almalexia.

"I have spoken to Eno Romari. He now knows the error of his ways and has stopped preaching. And, Almalexia; he sincerely regrets the deaths. He really will not be a problem again."

"This is very good news. You have handled the matter discretely and with mercy."

I beamed.

"Rashelle, tell me more though of his false beliefs."

"His former beliefs were that the daedra were going to enter Nirn and wreak destruction. He was concerned that the Tribunal were weakening. He wrongly thought that ... "

"ENOUGH!"

Her anger was terrible to witness. Her eyes glowed. You would never know from merely looking at her that she was no longer a goddess.

"They would dare...? So, the Tribunal has lost its power, has it? These fools would dare question Almalexia's power, here in her city! I will give them a lesson in power, Rashelle, and you will be my agent."

In her hand materialized a Dwemer coherer. It looked unlike others I had seen in that it had a glow deep in its center. I had heard from some savants the theory that coherors were some sort of power source for ancient Dwemer machinery, a source in addition to the steam power that most "surviving" Dwemer devices used.

Where had she obtained a "charged" Dwemer coherer?

"Recently discovered records indicate that there is a weather machine in Bamz-Amschend, the Dwemer city beneath the Plaza. You will take this coherer and use it to activate the machine. You will then call ash storms down on Mournhold. I do not know how to do this so you will gave to figure it out. The people will then know that I have commanded the ash storms and will realize the full strength of my power."

I hesitated.

"Take the coherer. In these troubled times, faith is all that sustains the people. They must not doubt the Tribunal now. All that we have built up over the last thousand years will be for nothing. This show of power is necessary. It must be done."

I took the coherer.

"Thank you Rashelle. Return to me when Mournhold has ash storms."

I nodded and departed.

I descended once again into the ruins below the Plaza, which I now knew was named "Bamz-Amschend."

This time I dispatched the centurion archers with some of the darts I had obtained from the Black Dart gang. I then levitated down and fought the remaining robots with my usual methods.

I discovered that the larger, more advanced, steam centurions were somehow enchanted with the Reflect spell. I learned rapidly not to cast spells at them. I decided to call them "advanced centurions".

From the centurion archers I extracted a nice collection of those dagger-like Dwemer darts. My skill with bows is absolutely horrid but whatever I throw goes where I intend it to. I was sure they would prove useful in the future.

I walked through a long series of twisty areas. The architecture here was so different from the other ruins I was used to, back in Vvardenfell. This seemed strange to me. After a time I thought about how different the architecture was in the various places back home: compare Redoran to Telvanni and one will find nothing in common. The Dwemer must have had different regional architectural styles, just as we do today.

I saw small piles of ash here and there. Often they were accompanied by weapons or pieces of armor. Some of them were on benches ... where people would normally sit. Had there been an epidemic of spontaneous combustion at this facility?

I found myself walking in an area where the corridor sort of swelled up to a larger size. There were large things in the ceiling, each comprised of four outstretched fins or wings. These things were spinning.

I saw some tables: they had the usual miscellaneous Dwemer bric-a-brac on them. On the benches were more ash piles. I dispatched the centurion sphere here and moved on.

The corridor returned to normal size and continued to wind its way along. At one point it ramped down into a section with ankle-high water. I surprised a centurion archer here and killed it quickly.

This entered into another wide section of corridor. There was a waterfall running down one of the walls. It issued from a break near the ceiling. I wonder where this water was coming from; a leak the fountain in the Plaza or from some other source?

There were more of the 4-bladed rotating things in the ceiling and there was also a steam centurion. I smashed the centurion and continued.

At the end of the corridor was a door. I opened it and waded through.

I was in an absolutely huge dome. The dome had no proper floor save for a platform that ran around its entire perimeter. This is what I was standing on. Looking down and past the perimeter I could see water. It was too dark to see in the water but perhaps the room was actually a sphere.

In the center was a platform and on it was either a building or some kind of machinery. From the platform radiated pipes or beams that connected it to the perimeter. From above, it would look like a gargantuan wagon wheel.

The water flowing past at my feet made it difficult for me to close the door behind me: I was fighting the current.

The tinkling of a Dwemer dart striking the wall not far from me brought my attention to more immediate matters. I threw some darts from my collection and I saw the centurion archer fall from the beam into the water.

I heard the metallic stomping sound of an advanced steam centurion; a few darts and he was stilled.

I looked up and saw that there were actually stalactites hanging from the ceiling.

I carefully walked along one of the beams to the center platform. The building or machine centered on this platform was surrounded by four large upright spikes or towers. Somehow the area was lit by a directionless yellow glow.

I walked around the center machine and saw a break in the pattern: there was not a beam connected to that side of the platform. In its place jutted a short square platform on which were three levers and another small ash pile.

Somehow I knew this was the weather machine.

I pulled on one of the levers and nothing happened.

There was a coherer partially stuck into the side of the center "building". It seemed obvious what I had to do now: I removed it and in its place put the charged coherer.

I heard a faint whining sound and my feet felt a vibration in the metal floor as machinery that had lain dormant for a thousand years became active.

People nowadays have nothing good to say about the Dwemer, but I wonder what they had really been like. I would have liked to have seen them as they were in their heyday, with the strange machinery, their "airships", "walkers" and whatever other miracles they had that are now lost to time.

I tugged one of the levers.

There was a deep creaking sound and a section of the dome wall that my platform faced began to change. It had had a picture of some sort but I had not paid attention to it. Now that picture slid to the side and disappeared, to be replaced by a series of pictures. Eventually it stopped at another picture.

How odd. I tugged another lever, the pictures moved sideways the other way. the movement stopped and a third picture was there.

With the distance of the wall and the darkness of the room I could not make out what it was supposed to depict.

I cast a Light spell and this allowed me to see that it was a depiction of ... rain.

It was becoming clearer to me now: the combination of the three levers selected the weather type and the huge wall-picture indicated what weather had been chosen.

I pulled and pushed the levers in random combinations. I tried to imagine what it would be like on the surface, with weather changing rapidly between wild extremes.

In a short time I stumbled into the combination for ash storms.

I cast Almsivi Intervention and was teleported to the surface, near the entrance to the Temple.

The wind howled and the air was thick with ashes.

This post has been edited by blockhead: May 5 2007, 03:55 AM

Another involved update; lots of stuff happening. I especially liked how Rashelle dealth with Eno. It almost seemed like she was scolding a child for acting foolish, which I thought was pretty neat.

I also like all these little meetings with Salas. It's stuff like this that'll make a certain event in the future that much more interesting as now I curious on how the relationship built between Salas and Rashelle will effect this coming event.

Also, where's Gaenor!? You'd think he'd be back by now, pissed off and ready to throw down!

P.S - I got a kick outta this line:

Bloody great stuff. (Without the blood, that is.)

Heh, I see that Rashelle's potion love isn't merely a literary thing. 200+ homemade potions, now that's what I call dedication. They do come in handy though. Me, I never bothered with alchemy and always stuck to spells, something I regretted during some particularry nasty situations. I guess it's a side-effect of my character build. Battlemage, heavily leaning towards the battle part.


I wonder if Rashelle is beginning to start doubting Almalexia's intentions. I mean, it is quite obvious that she is in denial.
,,My powers have brought the ashstorms upon you!" Umm, ashstorms are a Dagoth Ur thing. By that extension, I'm also a bit surprised that a Dwemer machine would be able to call up ashstorms. (Or maybe it is cheating. Make a really big forge, burn a lot of things, then use fans to blow the resulting ash into the air. Presto, one ashstorm. Similar with the rain. There was a lot of water around, and some piping. By that extension, the ashstorm could actually be a simple forge-cleaning mechanism. Wow, my theory is going odd. )

Glad you picked up on that. I thought I was being too subtle. It's difficult to write a character who is in denial ... or perhaps just unclear. In the previous (Lokken) story, Rashelle was always sure and always arrived at the correct conclusion ... not this time.

To the best of my shaky lore knowledge, ash storms in Vvardenfell are a natural part of the Ashlands and I think also the Molag Mar region. Blight Storms were created by Dagoth Ur.

Your weather machine theory there sounds like a possible addition for your Agent fanfic.

@ metal mallet:

Both questions answered in the next chapter ... coming up.

Chapter 8. The End Of Valor



I continued to marvel at the ash storms. Surely such a miracle would indeed convince people of the power of Almalexia and of the Tribunal.

I turned, intending to walk to the temple entrance, when a Bosmer in a full set of ebony armor approached me and blocked my way.

"Ha, Rashelle! I have made some money and have been successful in my adventures. Now I will make you pay for messing with me."

From his voice, I recognized him as that obnoxious little scrib, Gaenor. He drew his sword. It was an ebony longsword: from that and his armor it was apparent that fortune had indeed been kind to him in a mere few days.

I tapped Chrysamere's sheath and said, "Mine is bigger than yours. Your move, little mer."

He came at me. He swung. Quick as thought, I whipped out Chrysamere and parried.

With a vicious chop I tried to decapitate him, helm or no helm. That is what I had planned but a pebble or some ash shifted under my foot: my sword bounced off of one of his pauldrons.

I parried his swing and Chrysamere was knocked out of my hands. What were the odds of that?

The I realized was happening. The fetcher had some sort of Fortify Luck spell; a powerful one.

Crap.

He laughed and said; "You should run now."

Normally that would be a good idea but with that freakish luck on his side it I was not so sure. I rushed him instead. He had luck on his side but I had surprise on mine. I knocked him flat on his back and I had one hand around his sword-hand.

With the other hand I hit him with a frost spell. It reflected back at me: more of his luck. Fortunately I have an affinity to cold so all I got out of it was a cool breeze. I cast the same spell again. Again it reflected. He was strong for a little guy and that sword kept getting too close to me. I shook icicles from my head and cast the same spell again and this time it worked. He screamed.

He tried to dislodge me by rolling. I used the inertia to continue the roll, smashing his sword-hand on the paving stones. It didn't break his wrist (he was too lucky for that) but it did cause him to release his sword. It didn't fly very far so I ran and scooped it up.

Feeling an almost berserker-like wave of anger, I returned to the offensive, chopping and slashing at him with short rapid strokes. Because of his luck most of them didn't do any damage but they kept him off-balance.

He slipped but as the lucky fetcher fell he accidently kicked me and sent me flying back.

As luck would have it, what he had slipped on was Chrysamere and now he had it in his hands. Not good.

I summoned a frost atronach. Luck could only take one so far; now he had two to fight. The atronach and I simultaneously hit him with frost bolts.

Again we both cast.

Somehow Gaenor's luck didn't seem to hold up so well against simultaneous casts of the same spell from two different sources.

I stepped back a few paces as I cast. He could now reach neither me nor my atronach. He smashed through the ice that had formed around him. Being lucky, he seemed undamaged by the frost, but it had kept him immobile and on the defensive long enough for my atronach to run out of magicka.

I hit Gaenor with another frost bolt and then I ran.

He tried to come after me but the atronach had other ideas. I stopped and watched. He was lucky; only one in six of the blows the atronach dealt him got through, but that was enough. He was dead.

I looked around. No bystanders had been hurt: good. I retrieved Chrysamere and also took Gaenor's sword. I found an enchanted amulet but it shattered when I touched it: the cold had been too much for it.

I headed for the temple to bring Almalexia the good news.

She was pleased to hear it.

"Rashelle, you have done very well. Your efforts have been of great help to the Tribunal."

She paused and then said; "I trust that the details of this matter will remain a secret for the good of my people."

I nodded.

"As a reward, I will grant you a power. Would you like the strength of an Ogrim, skin resistant to damage, or resistance to paralysis?"

Interesting choices.

"Be quick, Rashelle!" she shouted.

"Resistance to paralysis," I said, startled.

She gestured and I felt magic work within me.

"Rashelle, I have another task for you. One of my most faithful guards, one of my very own Hands of Almalexia, pledged to honor and protect and serve me in all ways, has lost his mind.

"Salas Valor was once my most trusted Hand and faithful servant. But recently his behavior has been erratic. He has been quiet and unresponsive. I am afraid ... I may have allowed him to come too close. It is impossible that a mortal and a god might meet on equal ground, but ... perhaps he had deluded himself. I regret his lamentable state, and am sorry that I may have been partly responsible for his condition.

"I had hoped that distancing him would help. I had him demoted to High Ordinator and gave him duties in Godsreach. This has not helped. He is unstable. I pity him, and know he is not responsible for his actions. To view the splendor of a god may drive even the strongest mortal mad."

That explained why he had always avoided talking about her.

"Rashelle, find my missing Hand. He presents a threat to the people, and he is very dangerous. I fear you may not be able to spare his life."

I nodded and I was on my way. I left the Temple and through the ash storm I walked.

I did not plan to kill Salas. I would come up with some sort of plan where I would somehow get him quietly out of town. I would then tell Almalexia that he had been killed. I had used this method to get around the straightforward assassins duties that Ranis Athrys at the Balmora Mages Guild used to give me. A blood-thirsty woman, that one.

I paused to ask one of the ordinators about the "missing Hand".

"Someone wearing the Armor of the Hands of Almalexia has been walking around Godsreach muttering to himself and acting strangely. Is that who you are looking for? Look out, I wouldn't want to tangle with one of Almalexia's personal guards in a bad mood."

I nodded, thanked him and continued on my way. I had not really needed to ask about Salas: I spoke to him every day. I was procrastinating.

I arrived at Godsreach and soon I saw him.

"Salas, I need to talk to you"

"So she sent you, didn't she?"

How did he know?

"She used me for her pleasures, cast me aside for the next one. Now I am no longer necessary"

Now I understood. He must mean Almalexia. She had mentioned something about bringing Salas in "too close". She must have taken Salas as a lover when he was a Hand.

"Salas, don't worry. I can get you out of town. You'll be safe. Then I'll tell her I killed you. It will be OK."

"No!" he screamed, "you won't get me."

He drew his scimitar.

"Salas, please no, I want to help you!"

He attacked. I dodged his first swing.

"Salas, don't do this. I can save you!"

He swung again. I ducked and rolled and came up with Chrysamere in my hand.

He stopped.

"Please, Salas," I shouted. "I can help you. I don't intend to kill you. I can take you to Ebonheart. She won't be able to reach you there. It will be OK."

He swung. I parried.

I realized I now had no choice. He was going to try to kill me and nothing I could do would change this: I could die or I could kill him.

The battle went on for some time.

I won.

I knelt by the body. I came as close to crying as I had in my entire life. I never cry: at a young age I had learned of the essential uselessness of such activity. I grimly wiped Chrysamere on a clean cloth that I had in my pack: I could not bring myself to wipe the blade on Salas's clothing.

One of the ordinators approached me.

"Nerevarine, we'll take it from here." he said in a slightly gentler voice than usual.

"He was my friend."

"He was mad. It had to be done."

I glared at him for a moment and almost said "then why didn't you do it?" but then I remembered that as a former Hand, Salas could have easily taken on any five High Ordinators.

I looked away and said, "There should have been another way."

Casting flame from my hands I burned the cloth to ashes. They joined the ash storm.

"There is nothing you can do here," the ordinator said, not unkindly.

He gently put a hand on my shoulder and said: "You should go."

He was right. I stood up.

I had killed many people in my life. They had been evil. Many had tried to kill me. Some had served the sixth house, or had been predators intent on my death or the death of innocents. Some of them had been assassins and some had been murderous bullies. The world was a better place without them.

This time it had been different. While I had acted in self defense, I just could not help but feel that I had killed a friend because Almalexia had tired of him.

Ah, at last she understands Almalexia. I truly wished she had been able to find another way; he seemed like a good man. Thanks for giving us such an emotional connection to Salas.

My sentiments too. Great work blockhead!

Blockie!!! I'm away for a couple of days and what do I find? Three updates ! You post like a ravishing maniac!! Lovely updates they are anyway...Rash is a strong woman, yet able to show feeliings, I like that! Hmm I was hoping she would have managed to solve the thing with Salas in a nicer way! She deserves some love or at least some soft feelings . A relationship with someone mmmmm, that would be good for her, so her heart doesn't turn into stone...

Great story Blockie....great story