The Connivers of Bosmora, (a redo) Options

[redsrock]

The following will be a remake of the last one. The previous story was rushed and I just hated it. This one will be much better. Expect the first chapter to either come out tonight, or tomorrow.

[redsrock]

CHAPTER ONE


After the other councilors had left and gone back to Vvardenfell to their respective homes, Helseth closed his doors and told his servants to let no one in. The King needed some time to think alone, without the bickering and arguing that had ensued during the meeting.

Before they left, the councilors and Helseth had debated on how the letter should be worded. After a few minutes of debate, they all decided to disguise everything. The address of the letter would link to a fake person from the city of Vivec. The letter would speak of a generous offer of gold from a friendly Breton, who himself would be made up. Sirius was always a sucker for money, and the councilors knew he wouldn’t be able to deny the offer, especially in his current economic state.

It was very ironic that the reason Helseth would be contacting the Imperial, was the same reason he had exiled him long ago. All of the pain from those days still cropped up from time to time, but all in all Helseth had for the most part dismissed all of those feelings. But now that their man-of-the-hour was soon to walk the streets of Mournhold once more; Sirius Mero was coming home…


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“I’m not going to budge on this one, Sirius. Either you give me the money now or I will shut down your shop altogether. I’ve let you slip by without having to pay anything for one whole year, and yet you still don’t have any money to show me.”

“Business has been slow this year, I…I just haven’t been able to gain enough money to repay you.”

In all honesty, business for the lonely Imperial had been slow all year. But that still doesn’t explain all the empty beer bottles lying around his small home just inside the city gates. Even though Sirius himself is very manipulative and is very good with words, he wasn’t going to be able to weasel himself out of this one.

“No money, eh? How do you explain those?” The Breton, Malpen, said. Malpen was the local government’s tax-collector. And then without letting Sirius finish he continued. “You run a clothing shop, Sirius, and an expensive one at that. How do you explain not having enough money to pay me? What the hell have you been doing, spending all the money on booze?”

Sirius is a heavy drinker, there’s no doubting that, and perhaps on the verge of becoming the town-drunk if he didn’t act quickly. Of course not all of the money has been spent on beer and wine. It has also been used to pay for his secret-love of women. But there’s no way he’ll tell Malpen about that. Oh no, he’d run Sirius out of town, after taking what money the Imperial did have.

“I…I just don’t have the money, Malpen. I swear, just give me six more months. I swear I’ll have the money, and then some.”

Malpen was now stuck between a rock and hard place, so-to-speak. The tax collector knew Sirius probably wasn’t very good for his word. On the other-hand, his store does bring in more money than anyone else.

“I’ll give you one option, Sirius. I will let you have six more months, but, if you do not have enough money when the time is up I will throw you in jail for tax evasion. You do know that Governor Dillon thinks that is exactly what you are doing, correct? They have no clue I’ve let you slide. Also, you will give me seventy-five percent of your earnings from here on out. If you don’t take this offer, I will take your shop away and what money you do have, forcing you to start all over. I’m sure you wouldn’t want that. So, what’s it going to be, Sirius?” Malpen said, his long Imperial black hair flapping in the wind.

Sirius didn’t like the option, but he didn’t feel like giving up his business either. But what else was he going to do? There was also the option of running away to another city, but then again that would be starting over as well. Plus, Sirius wasn’t a coward. “I imagine that seventy-five percent won’t be going government, right?” he asked, trying to stall for time.

Malpen just continued to wait impatiently. “Just answer the question, Sirius.”

“I’ll take it.”


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The sun was setting on the magical city of Mournhold when the letter was finally written, edited, and then written all over again. Hlaalu Helseth wasn’t sure too sure what to say at first, and it took him all day to write the damn thing.

Words usually never failed the King of Morrowind, but today his mind had been frozen. The letter to Sirius had to be perfect, and nothing less. Helseth knew this, and that’s why it had taken him so long to write it. And to add to it, the letter had to be fake, and that was a challenge in its own. It was hard making up everything. But now, after editing it for the last time, he was satisfied with its contents.

Dear Sirius Mero,

My name is Catolino Balvicci, but you may call me Cato. I have come under the impression from a friend of mine in Caldera that you are currently having some money issues. What I have come to realize is that, despite your money woes, you really do have the potential to run a successful business. My friend has told me that your store has attracted far more people than anyone else. I would like to extend a hand in helping you recover.

I am an entrepreneur of sorts, and have helped finance many striving merchants in Cyrodiil. I came to Morrowind just a few weeks ago to work my magic here, and my friend, Sabatha the Khajiit, immediately told me of your situation. She holds you in high regard actually.

I am willing to offer you twenty-thousand septims. This should be more than enough to pay your debts, and it will also let you buy some nifty new products to attract even more patrons. I know all of must sound like a dream to you, but fortunately for you it is not. Talk to Sabatha, and you will see this is real. She will explain everything, and even give you my address. I would do it myself, but I fear I do not trust the mailing system just yet!

I look forward to seeing you my friend, and until then, good luck!

Sincerely,
Cato

Simple, but to the point. Helseth worked work hard at getting the Khajiit to agree to help, and a lot of septims at that. Sabatha was a cunning individual herself it seemed, there wasn’t a doubt in Helseth’s mind that the deal wouldn’t be accepted by Sirius.

And then once he does make it to the fake location, which was going to be the Foreign Quarter in Vivec, he would be instantly tracked by several of Helseth’s agents. Once Sirius realizes he’s been tricked, he’ll trek back to Caldera, and on the way back in the wilderness he will be ambushed and kidnapped by the agents, and then immediately transported to Mournhold’s dungeons. Helseth knew Sirius hated Silt Striders, and that was Morrowind’s only transportation system. The King had already instructed his guards to alert him as soon as the Imperial arrives.

So he then folded the letter and carefully placed it in an envelope, and then fastened a fancy seal to close the envelope, but nothing that would trace the letter back to Helseth of course. He called for the courier and then said, “Deliver this immediately to Sirius of Caldera. You’ll find his clothing shop just past the gates. This is very important, so use this scroll to get there without delay. Hurry, please.”

The Breton courier gave Helseth a curious look, but then left almost as soon as he had arrived.