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 6. Information


Tracking an animal over land is easy. Even when rain and storm have ravished the land, one can still see some left over prints. Tracking a boat however, is quite a bit harder. A boat doesn’t leave prints. Varvur therefore had no idea if he was going the right way. When he rented the boat he was now travelling on, and inquired which place was most likely to be one’s destination when travelling west out of Ebonheart, the answer had been Omayni, a city just a few miles from the coast, west of the Inner Sea and easily reached by land.

They’d been travelling for a day now; the wind wasn’t helping them at all, and were just coming to the small peninsulas that can be found just off the coast there. The outcrops were small, rugged and uninhabited by all save some few mudcrabs. Sailing past them they came into view of the land and there Varvur felt lucky for the first time. On the beach, in clear view, were the remains of a small boat, looking exactly the way the Khajiit servant in Ebonheart had described it. It had obviously been there for a few days already; the fire that had charred it had long gone out and everything inside had been blackened by the fire.

Getting out of the boat, Varvur thanked the captain for bringing him there, and wished him a safe journey back. He approached the wreckage of the boat and searched what was left. Unfortunately he was unable to find anything useful. No clues, no left over things that might give away any information about the man or woman that had used this craft. And the most annoying part of it all, was that nowhere in the vicinity of the boat did Varvur find any tracks. No recent ones anyway. Oh he found many old ones, tracks made by Argonians, Dunmer, Orcs, Khajiit but no recent human tracks. The frustration was almost overwhelming. To be so close to what he knew he was looking for and finding nothing. Then he recalled lord Nerevar’s words, spoken during one of their many conversations regarding their hidden enemies.

“Patience is the hunter’s greatest virtue. A careless movement or loud exhalation of breath can frighten the prey. That is especially true if the quarry knows it is being hunted.”

At once saddened and reassured by the remembered advice, Varvur decided the best thing to do would be to travel to Omayni and inquire there. Luckily Omayni was a Redoran controlled city, so he should have no trouble finding information there. The trip proved uneventful, except for a small gang of highwaymen who tried to stop Varvur, for some reason assuming they could get some gold from him since they outnumbered him 5 to one. After he had killed three of them, and wounded another, the last one had no problem allowing him to pass and forgetting about the “your money or your life” line he’d only just before uttered.

Omayni was a typical Redoran town, with buildings made in the shape of crab shells and centered around a temple complex. Not nearly the size of Ald’ruhn, but definitely larger then Gnisis. The garrison complex stood at the far side of the gates, and Varvur wasted no time in going there. The guard at the front desk looked sullenly at Varvur, and was probably just about to ask him his business, or even worse, tell him to move along. “I am Varvur Sarethi and wish to speak to your captain.”

With that he showed the bored guard his family’s amulet just to make sure there was no doubting he really was who he claimed to be. The change in the guard’s demeanor was remarkable; it was interesting watching him attempt to sit at attention while disposing of the remains of his meal.

“My lord, I am captain Mallam Ryon, how may I serve?”

“A few miles up the coast you can find a burned boat. A man came from it and presumably headed here. He was human- Breton, Imperial or Nord- although short for a Nord if he was a Nord, with fair hair, dark eyes and dressed most likely as a servant. Tell me captain, have you seen such a man?”

“My lord, I will look up all the log files of my men and question them to see if one of them might have left something out, something trivial. But there are some patrols out who are a few days travel from here. Getting word to them, and getting them back here, will take a while. My apologies, my lord, might you consider staying in my home until such time as everything has been examined? It would be my honour to house you as a guest.”

“I’m afraid days isn’t good enough, captain. I wish to depart the day after tomorrow at the latest. I’m sorry, but the longer I wait, the more likely the man is to get away from me.”

“Of course my lord; we will do our best. Please, I will have my servant here show you to my home.”

Varvur followed the servant to a small mansion. Inside the people must have gotten word already that he was coming as servants were standing by with refreshments and ready to take his armour and weapons from him.

“Don’t worry my lord; we will place all of this in your room.” Walking around the house, Varvur was impressed. For a captain of a small city like this, Mallam was certainly able to decorate his house nicely; either he was up to his ears in debt, or most likely, he had come from an old family. But for some odd reason Varvur could not remember ever having met the Ryon family, and he’d certainly accompanied his father to see all the old families of House Redoran at one time or another.

A short while later, as it was turning dark outside, Mallam came home. Varvur had just been speaking to the captain’s wife, a very beautiful Dunmer called Felisa Ulessen originally, now of course she was called Felisa Ryon. Her conversation revealed a quick mind as well as a generous spirit, for she mentioned that she spent quite a number of years helping the mentally challenged. Varvur looked up just as Mallam Ryon was entering the room, and for a moment thought he saw a surprised look cross his eyes, but only for a moment. Before Varvur could be certain, Mallam was smiling widely and welcoming Varvur into his home. “I hope my lady wife has been a pleasant companion so far my lord.“

“That she has captain Ryon, that she has. She was just telling me about the charity work she has done, with the mentally challenged.” Mallam raised an eyebrow at that.

“Yes, I fear you must forgive her; I’m sure my lord would be much more interested in other things and I’m afraid talking too much has always been my wife’s weakness.”