The Tale of Sudhendra Vahl: Every Day a Walk In The Park... Options

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The Tale of Sudhendra Vahl: Part Seven

Darius, according to Master Demnevanni, ran his office out of the Madach Tradehouse in Gnisis. So, after translocating there after breaking my fast, I made my way into the lower half of the “shell” that comprised the Tradehouse. Darius was short, stocky, and clad in gorgeous armour – all gilded metal with a flowing red cape. He looked up at me and said, “So, you want to join the Legion do you Citizen Vahl? Well, it’s true that we have a shortage of Manpower ~ and Merpower for that matter. You look capable enough. Tell me, are you capable of following orders?”

“Excellent,” he said when I assured him I was. “It’s a Mer’s life in the Legion. Every day a walk in the park, every meal is a banquet, every pay check a fortune. It’ll make a Ma... Mer of you. Right, Recruit Vahl, here is your regulation-issue chain cuirass. You will wear it when you address a superior officer, do I make myself clear?”

“Yes… sir,” I replied.

Darius shook his head. “The first and last word I want to hear out of your mouth when you address me is ‘Sir’. Now sound out like you got a pair. Do you understand me?”

“Sir, yes Sir,” I said in a clear voice, desperately trying to ignore the sniggering Orc in the corner of the room.

“Outstanding,” he said. “Now get that cuirass on and I’ll give you your orders.

“You might be wondering,” he said once I’d got the chain cuirass in place, “why I am billeted in the Tradehouse? Well, it’s because we have no room to expand. The widow Vabdas has a parcel of land the Legion needs to expand. I want you to come back to me with the deeds as quickly as possible. Is that understood?”

“Sir, yes Sir,” I replied, turning to march out of the room. As I went up the stairs, I heard General Darius addressing the Orcish Trooper, “gro-Khazor, what is your major malfunction?”

Vabdas had a house just west of town, out past Arvs-Drelen, so it wasn’t difficult to get to. Her reaction, when I spoke to her about the land-deed was to slap me across the face ~ hard. I suppressed the spells that roared into my mind and, speaking carefully, said, “you would be wise not to do that again.”

“Why?” she snapped, and now I could see the tears in her eyes. “Because you’ll kill me like you did Mansilamat?”

“I assure you ma’am,” I told her, “I had no part in the death of Mansilamat. Tell me what happened…” Bit by patient bit, I dragged the story from her. It seems that her husband, the aforementioned Mansilamat, had gone to the Egg-Mine at Gnisis to get some eggs. There, according to the widow, the Legion had killed her husband.

As I walked back towards Gnisis, I reflected that whatever power controls my life has an infinite capacity for capriciousness. What should have been the simple acquisition of a deed to some land had now become a murder investigation. Of course, that was how General Darius saw it and he told me to obtain proof that the Legion had been involved. Fortunately, the guard at the door of the Egg-Mine proved amenable to my charming behaviour and, after checking that there was nobody watching, he gave me the key to the door.

There was a familiar stink about the mine, one that I remembered from the Mudan-Mul Mine. Drawing my sword, I advanced with some care. Fortunately, whatever was blighting the mine was confined to the lower quarters and the Scribs in the upper chambers were not aggressive. I wish the same could be said of Trooper gro-Ogdum. The Orc gave me a three count to get the Oblivion out of the area he was guarding. As quickly as I could, I chose one of the passages and headed off down it. From up ahead I could hear the drip-drip of water and a strange noise ~ like wind. As I rounded the corner, I came upon the source of the sound. There, in the middle of the passage, was an Ancestral Spirit.

“Hear me Mortal,” it moaned, as I made ready to swing my sword, “Stay your hand ~ I am Mansilamat Vabdas, I was murdered, most foully, by the Orc Lugrub gro-Ogdum. I beg you, avenge me…” The last syllable was drawn out as the spectre faded from view. I knew that the word of an apparition would carry no weight with General Darius: I needed more proof. I found it in the depth of the pool nearby ~ the corpse of Mansilamat and a notched Imperial axe.

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“And here I am,” said a voice right behind me ~ almost causing me to swallow my tongue. Kallin and Raissu both made “eeking” sounds as the well-dressed Dunmer stepped noiselessly out of a pool of shadows and bowed low. Only iron-willed stubbornness prevented me from yelping and leaping ten feet into the air. “It has been some considerable time since Great House Telvanni called for our services Arch-Magister. How may the Servants of Mephala be of service?”

“I see,” he said smoothly after I’d explained the situation. “One assumes that, as well as dealing with the traitor to your House, this is intended to be a lesson to those that consider similar paths?”

“It’s intended to be a lesson all right,” I replied, grimly.

“Yet some degree of discretion is required…” the assassin mused. “We believe we have the ideal solution Arch-Magister. And yours for but one thousand Septims.” Instructing Raissu Asserbas to pay the assassin, I left the tower and headed back to the spot I’d been at before I’d had second thoughts.

The terrain got increasingly more rugged and, before too long, I had to divert inland instead of following the coastline. One such diversion brought me close to a huge statue: weathered and dirt-encrusted, it was still recognisable as Azura. Since I had read the book ‘Daedric Shrines of Importance’, I had been having nagging feelings about the shrines it had mentioned and felt strangely drawn towards the statue. Perched on a rock that jutted out over steep cliffs, I realised that the statue guarded the entrance to the shrine. For there, down a path that had seen far better days, lay the unmistakably warped shapes of a shrine-platform. Scrambling down the path, avoiding looking at the dizzying vista that lay on the right-hand side, I reached the platform. The door yielded easily to my touch and, glad to be off that exposed and crumbling entrance, I stepped inside.

This was not the first Daedric shrine I’d ever been in but it was certainly the most atypical. I could still feel the sheer power of the place rising up through my feet but, unlike other shrines, there was a… serenity and harmony to the power. That feeling was reinforced by the shrine itself ~ no strangely angled corners or warped walls here. A soft blue light suffused the shrine and it took me a moment or two to realise it was emanating from the tall silver statue standing at the back of the ruin. I felt no overwhelming fear as I approached the statue ~ despite my experiences in the other shrines. As I drew nearer to the statue, the blank metal eyes flashed azure for a moment.

“[size=14]Beloved,

“[size=14]Now that time doth come to an end and still Rayna Drolan doth pray. The Mad One, Sheogoraph, hath determined to cheat to prove his case. Beloved of Azura, I beseech thee; bring me proof of the Mad One’s meddling that I may give him the lie direct. In this task thou shall be well rewarded. Have a care, thou must not disturb my priestess in any wise…”

The voice faded to silence and the indefinable sense of Azura’s presence faded with it. I blinked… that voice was familiar. I knew that I had heard it before but couldn’t place it. I sat for a while, partially to puzzle over this conundrum and partially to soak up the ambiance of the place. Feeling calmer and more focussed than I had in several days, albeit no closer to remembering where I had heard that voice, I left and continued my way southwards.

The door to Aharnabi led me into a steeply sloping tunnel hewn from the rock. As I walked carefully down the slippery passage, an Altmer walked around the pillar of rock at the bottom of the tunnel. With a curse, she raised her hands and spat a short phrase. I jerked backwards, my feet slipping out from underneath me as a hissing sphere of purple light whizzed over my head. Arresting my slide, I raised my hand and responded with a spell of my own, “Chyffyrddiad chan rhew.”

The High Elf’s scream was cut short as the spell worked its gruesome way with her, leeching the heat from her body. By the time I had regained my feet, she was dead, her golden skin dusted with speckles of ice. The tunnel continued downwards, taking quite a sharp rightward bend before continuing down some more. Here it entered a cavernous space, high up on the wall of the vaguely spherical chamber. A wooden walkway led to a ladder that went down to a lower level.

Of course, the Dunmeri sorceress who was walking along the lower part of the wooden construction wasn’t particularly happy to see me, or so I assumed by the Bone-Walker she summoned. I drew my crossbow ~ already loaded and ready ~ as the misshapen fiend scrambled up the stairs. “Hey, Muthsera!” I yelled, leaning over the railing. As the Mer looked upwards, I fired downwards. There was a satisfying spurt of blood as the bolt took her right in the centre of the forehead. The Bone-Walker, which had its damn clawed hands close to my neck ~ far too damn’ close if you ask me ~ sparkled with yellowish light and faded from view before it could reach me.

I had a choice of directions when I reached the lower level of the wooden construction. Lacking any clues (and with the usual unerring instinct for walking into trouble) I chose to go to my right. Another Dunmeri sorceress joined the growing tally of the dead littering these caves as, after a brief exchange of magic, I took advantage of my position behind a rocky outcrop to reload my crossbow and fire at her.

This left the left-hand passage and, this time I seemed to have made the right decision. The wooden walkway led through an arch that had been hacked into the stone, opening up a water-filled cavern beyond. The wooden platform continued out over the water, massive wooden pilings sunk into the silt-covered floor of the cave. Several platforms were attached to the walkway ~ all but one was deserted. With a sardonic laugh, a tall and untidy-looking Nord sauntered arrogantly down the steps from the furthest platform and stood there looking at me.