Morrowind, A fanfic Options

[Alexander]

Another fanfic about Morrowind you must be asking yourself? Do we really need yet another one? I've asked myself the same question
As some of you might know I tried a hand at writing some two+ years back, resulting in two chapters of something I didn't really like looking back. Though even back then, I'd had the idea for another, a different fanfiction.

For some reason despite the fact that I was very much convinced I was not a good writer, this idea stayed with me through all this time and kept nagging at me. Then early this year I decided to simply give it a go again, and the result is something I'm actually quite fond of. This is the result.

It's a fan fiction about Morrowind, set in the time after the events in the game Morrowind but before the events in Oblivion. It's told from the perspective of three people who play a large part in Morrowind's future, at least the future I've created with some parts told by other characters.

As you'll notice, some events in chapters start a little while before the end of the past chapters, just a heads up there.

And lastly, before I bore you all to death with my rants I'd just like to extend a very large thank you, firstly to everyone who ever read "Alexander in Morrowind" and told me it was good (whether they meant it or not ) and second a very special thank you to Treydog who sacrificed quite a bit of his spare time in order to proof read this story, and who played the role of Editor for me. I'm very grateful for that.

Now, on to the story.







The year is 3E 432 many things have changed since the return of the lord Nerevar, and even more things are changing. Four Great Houses have a new head. The Tribunal gods are slain. Temple doctrine is falling and failing rapidly. Oppression of other faiths has been removed. Many rumours float around, rumours of things unheard of in the very near past; The lord Nerevar wants to abolish slavery, Indoril generals are taking bribes and forsaking their honour, some or all of the Tribunal gods were killed by the lord Nerevar, the lord Nerevar used the powers of the heart of Lorkhan to make himself immortal and godlike, secret cults are rising in Cyrodiil, Imperial legions are being recalled to Cyrodiil to quell the unrest, king Helseth poisoned the last king, Mehrunes Dagon has come to earth in the guise of queen Barenziah, Sheogorath has started a love affair with Azura, Bosmer everywhere are planning the end of the world, Orcs have taken to worshiping Khajiit instead of Malacath.

Some rumours are a bit wilder then others of course, but if only half of them are true the future promises to be spectacular.

This story starts in Ebonheart, in the Grand Council chambers where the lord Nerevar is preparing for what could be the most important council meeting in many years.

[Alexander]

Chapter 1. Change, for better or worse.


It did not take a keen eye to see lord Nerevar was troubled. And Varvur was most definitely keen of eye. Having been born a nobleman, he had studied with the some of the best warriors of his time. His entire life had been spent training to become a superior warrior, and so he was overjoyed when not a month past he’d been asked to become the new bodyguard of lord Nerevar. So glad he was of being able to finally help the lord Nerevar after everything he’d done for him and his family, having risked life and limb to save Varvur from the old Arch master. It was almost enough to forget the circumstances leading up to it his appointment to this prestigious post. The old bodyguard had turned out to be a spy, and ended his own life before anyone could find out who he was working for. Rumours still swirled that people in Nerevar’s own house wanted him dead. But no matter, Varvur was here now and would do what he could to protect lord Nerevar from harm. On the day he’d first come in he had promised to give his life for lord Nerevar.

But thankfully it wouldn’t come to that. In a small while lord Nerevar would preside over the Grand Council meeting where he would proclaim judgement on the dishonourable Indoril. Last night he’d confided in Varvur. “Finally,” he’d said, “finally I know who’s been behind all this from the start.” Of course Varvur had offered to go after the wicked men or man himself and bring them to justice before the lord, but Nerevar would have none of it. “I fear Varvur, this one is beyond your grasp. No, it’s better to wait until the morrow where I proclaim him guilty before the Grand Council. What better occasion than this, where I rid the realm of both slavery and at least a major part of its corruption.”

And now that time was nearly upon them; outside Varvur could hear heralds introducing each representative of the Houses. It sounded somehow alien to him; back when Varvur had been young he’d accompanied his father once to such a meeting and could still remember being impressed with the mighty trumpets and fanfare so common to the Imperial heralds. Of course now the heralds were no longer Imperials, didn’t even belong to the Legion. Most of the Legion had left Morrowind some few months back. Apparently whatever it was that was happening in Cyrodiil, it wasn’t good. When so many of the Legions were recalled, not just from Morrowind, but lord Nerevar had said it was happening in all provinces, something big must be happening. Varvur remember when the news had come that duke Dren and almost all of the Legions would leave Morrowind. Many reactions could be heard. Some older Redoran nobles were pleased and said this was the time for Morrowind to become independent again. Other, and so Varvur believed, smarter people assumed this would only be the start of trouble, not just in Cyrodiil but in Morrowind as well. Trouble that was serious enough to merit the recall of the Legions would not be likely to confine itself to just one part of the Empire.

Varvur closed the door and was just able to hear the herald calling the name of the Telvanni representative for this meeting, Baladas Demnevanni himself. The man who had been so helpful to lord Nerevar when he came to him with questions about the lost Dwemer. The newly installed Telvanni master and Wizard lord of Sadrith Mora. Neloth, the former master of that city had of course been killed by lord Nerevar when he refused his support.. Baladas had been called to rule Sadrith Mora and had offered his home and all in it to lord Nerevar, both for creating the opportunity for Baladas to move up, and to give him a quiet home away from the crowds, duties and most of all spies and assassins.

“It is nearly time to go, master.” Lord Nerevar looked up; he’d been deep in thought again. Varvur could only imagine what it must be like to have to tell the world that those who should have been most loyal to you were in fact the same people who wanted you dead. “Yes, I suppose it is time. Come Varvur, and remember, change never comes easily, and what is but a small step to some, can be the hardest thing ever for another. At least after tonight, for good or evil, everything will be out in the open.”

Lord Nerevar walked to the door and slowly opened it. As befit his position, Varvur walked one pace behind his lord, watching both front and back. As they slowly made their way down the stairs to the Council chamber, and heralds were calling the name and titles of lord Nerevar, Varvur heard his lord whisper, “How I wish Dren was still here”. Varvur was tempted to say lord Nerevar shouldn’t worry, as he was there to protect him, but nearly as soon as the thought came to him, he realised how conceited that would have sounded. Comparing himself to a duke would definitely not be honourable.

Before them he saw the chamber. Representatives of all the Great Houses were on their feet to welcome lord Nerevar, servants rushed to fill the cups of all of them, heralds finished with their job and now standing idly along the walls of the chamber alongside Indoril guards. At the far side of the chamber he saw the captain of the guard and nodded at him in greeting. Something was missing Varvur realised. Helseth! He should have been here; Varvur himself had sent out the invitation to Helseth asking him to attend the meeting. Helseth had been ill the last few meetings, though some whispered he’d been trying his best to avoid lord Nerevar. He should have been here, Varvur thought. He’d only been present during one meeting between Helseth and lord Nerevar and it was apparent even to a blind Netch that the two loathed each other. There would likely be another apology on the morrow from Helseth, saying how sorry he was for not being able to be there but something so urgent came up. Well, he’d heard those excuses before, and knew just how insincere they truly were.

Varvur moved towards the table; he had insisted to lord Nerevar that he taste any food or drink first before his lord did. What good would it do to be ever present, watchful for an attack and then have lord Nerevar die from poison? The comberry juice appeared to have been made very recently. It certainly didn’t taste odd. Though speaking of odd, that was another thing about lord Nerevar- he hardly ever drank alcohol. Always some water, or comberry juice. It drove some hosts crazy, though most were only too happy to please lord Nerevar.

“Gentlemen and lady,” Nerevar spoke, “I propose a toast, a toast to the future and to change, for without it none of us would be here.” At the far side of the table, Baladas loudly spoke, “Here, here.” There was something about him that always made Varvur cautious. While he knew the Telvanni was a friend of his lord, Varvur had never been easy around Wizards. A cousin of his had once been kidnapped by a Wizard, before Nerevar had persuaded him to release the girl. Varvur remembered the stories when she came home, but even before then. Everything in his upbringing had been about what he could see, paying attention to his surroundings, knowing what went on all the time, but how can you know what goes on when you’re not even sure if some Wizard is invisible inside the very room? How can you prepare for a fireball or lightning bolt coming at you from miles away? Just thinking about it gave Varvur the creeps.