The Interim, Part One, A Morrowind Fanfic by BBQ Platypus Options

[bbqplatypus]

Author's Note, Five Years Later:

So yeah. This is a story I wrote quite some time ago about an idea that had long percolated in my head - what happened to the Nerevarine that caused him to bugger off between Morrowind and Oblivion. Not an inherently bad idea for a story - in fact, I still think it could make a pretty good one. This is not that story. In fact, looking back on it now, it's hard for me to imagine any sensible reaction to it other than OHMYGOD THIS IS SO FRUCKING FUCKBAD. Of course, everyone who's ever tried writing started out by writing ten thousand pages of crap. This right here constitutes five of my ten thousand.

I'm not gonna delete it - I'll leave it up, mostly because this forum doesn't seem to allow me to delete topics. But if you've come here by browsing the forums or through some random Google search, please hit the back button immediately and save yourself some time. This story isn't worth yours.






An Account of the Events of the Interim of Grignr the Nerevarine, Between the Fulfillment of the Bloodmoon Prophecy and His Departure to Akavir

Being An Anonymous Account Discovered, Compiled, and Edited by Bereditte Jastal


Editor’s Note: The non-academic nature of this account (its authorship is uncertain, and it is clearly written in prose form, with considerably more detail than one would expect from a typical “journal” or even a memoir) makes it a tome of questionable historical accuracy. The Nerevarine as portrayed in this account – a Nordic male named Grignr Star-Mane, married to an Imperial Legionnaire named Imsin the Dreamer, is b- [a blurry food stain blots out the next few words]-sistent with the details of Hasphat Antabolis’s authoritative (though not universally accepted) account, The Life and Times of the Nerevarine, which [Another food stain, this one with the general texture and coloration of kwama cuttle]

It should be noted that Antabolis’s account of the “interim” period (detailed in Volume IV) is rather sketchy compared to the immaculately detailed chronology of the first three volumes. Many of the events related in this text are [The rest of the page has been torn out, presumably used as a napkin].


Chapter I

The air was warm, heavy, and perplexing, draped like a thick, wet blanket upon the shoulders of the harsh, rocky coastline west of Gnisis. The dark, bloated clouds in the sky grew fat as they slowly drew in the oppressive moisture, accumulating and converging as one. A storm was coming, and we were miles away from cover.

We were one of several detachments that I myself had sent to seek out and clear smugglers caves along the coast of Vvardenfell. This particular group was assigned to investigate the drainage basin of the River Samsi (wherein many underground streams flowed). I led at my own insistence. As Hortator and Knight of the Imperial Dragon, no one dared to argue with me.

“Tread carefully, men,” I called back to the twelve Redoran soldiers who trudged miserably behind me. “We’re a long walk from Gnisis, and we only have so many Intervention scrolls to go around. We don’t want to have to carry anybody back to the Temple.”

“Understood, muthsera,” grunted Tedril Doren, the acting second-in-command of the detachment. His voice carried a ragged and weary tone to it – for he, like the rest of the men, had been marching now for several hours - in full bonemold armor - with very little rest. Even I was starting to feel a bit tired – enchanted armor can only do so much.

“We’ll keep marching until nightfall,” I said, turning my head toward the lieutenant, “and then we’ll head on home.”

The soldiers behind me grumbled a bit, but I could tell they were fairly content with knowing that the march would at least end sometime. For now, though, we would continue to plow ahead.

After a couple minutes of marching, Doren hastened his gait to move abreast with me. “May I speak with you privately for a moment, sera?” he inquired in a low voice.

“Fire away,” I replied quietly.

“Are all these men really necessary? Could you not have conducted this raid by yourself, sera? It seems an awful lot of trouble for us to have to go through.”

“You can never be too careful, Doren. We might catch them in the middle of restocking. Not to mention the amount of contraband we already have to carry back.”

I could tell that inwardly, we both knew the pointlessness of this mission. Even if we were to kill or arrest every man and mer in every cave, hideout, and abandoned fortress in the entire province, there would always be others to replace them. The drug trade is a horrid, unkillable beast, and we were both well aware of it. But I knew better than he did – I knew how to stop it.

It was all a matter of bribing the right person: Orvas Dren. If I could convince Orvas Dren to tell me the names and locations of the major members and safehouses of the Camonna Tong (an organization that I controlled in theory, but not in practice), I could send the full fury of the Dunmer and Imperial military after them, setting the drug trade back months – maybe even years. It only required the right application of bribery, blackmail, or brute force.

But I dared not do such a thing. It would shatter the uneasy peace I had forged with my fellow Hlaalu councilmen (most of whom I didn’t trust as it was), and would put myself, my family, and many of the people I had sworn to protect in danger. And so here we were, scrounging and combing through the caves of Vvardenfell, fighting a war that could not be won.

We marched silently for a minute or two. We were sloshing through the water to skirt a small cliff face when a voice suddenly emerged from the rear of the ranks.

“Come look, sera!” one of the soldiers exclaimed. “I think I see an opening! It’s…submerged, but there’s a door there.”

The rest of us doubled back to see what he had found. Sure enough, there was a weather-beaten, half-rotted door nestled into a small indentation in the cliff face.

“Yes, that’s a cave, alright,” I said. “And from the looks of it, there are or have been people in it. Doren, have one of your boys dive down and check it out.”

“Yes, sera.” He turned to a subordinate. “Arinith, I hope you can swim.”

“I can, sera,” the soldier answered. He dove into the frigid water, nudged the door open, and ducked under the low ceiling into the cave.

We waited what felt like an eternity for him to return. We waited for two minutes…three minutes…four minutes. Finally, after about half an hour, Doren spoke. “I do not know what is taking Arinith so long, but I think we should assume the worst.”

“I agree,” I said grimly. “Which is why I’m going in. I want you and everyone here who can swim to follow me.”

“We’ll be right behind you.”

I dove in and entered the cave.

This post has been edited by bbqplatypus: Mar 28 2013, 06:01 AM

[bbqplatypus]

The slaves, like most slaves kept by smugglers, were in pitiful shape. Their quarters were cramped, poorly lit, and filthy – the only sanitation afforded to them within their wooden prison was a single bucket in which they were allowed to relieve themselves. The emaciated frames and glaze-eyed stares of these miserable and imprisoned beast-folk indicated that they had neither eaten nor slept very much. Though they didn’t seem to be much in the mood for questioning, I proceeded anyway.

“May I have your attention, please?” I called out to the miserable crowd. I was met with silence. A few of the slaves turned their gaze toward me – the rest ignored me.

I knew that this was about as much recognition as I was going to get, so I continued. “Is there anyone here who can tell me anything about how they got here? From which city were you sent? Where the smugglers were sending the slaves for delivery? Any signs you might have read? Conversations you may have overheard?”

As I expected, none of the slaves had anything to say. They either didn’t know anything or didn’t care enough to tell me. “Thank you for your cooperation,” I said sarcastically, and started toward the wooden gate.

“Wait!” a voice behind me cried out. “Don’t leave, serjo! Ri’Darsha knows some things that might interest you…”

I froze in my tracks and turned to face the slave who had addressed me. “Really?” I replied coolly. “And what does Ri’Darsha know?”

The Khajit grinned. “The smugglers try to hide these things from Ri’Darsha. When they took Ri’Darsha off the boat with the other slaves, they put a blindfold over his eyes so that he cannot see. But Ri’Darsha does not need his eyes to see what is happening around him. Ri’Darsha still has his ears, his nose, and his whiskers. He smells the bitter swamplands and feels the wooden planks beneath his feet. Then, in the cave, he hears a few words and names that the smugglers whisper to themselves. Words like ‘Gnaar Mok,’ ‘Othran,’ and ‘Gro-Bagrat.’ They talk about the sugar, and about the plantation. Sometimes they bring a slave out with them when they empty the bucket, and Ri’Darsha never sees that slave again. Ri’Darsha thinks they were delivering the sugar from the cave to the plantation, and they would make the slaves do it. And when the delivery is complete, they kill the slave. He does not think that there was anyone in the cave named Othran or Gro-Bagrat. They are from the plantation, he thinks. This is what the Nord wants to know, yes?”

I smiled and nodded. In truth, although I did indeed want every bit of information I could get from the slaves, this was not the main reason I had questioned them. I wanted to see which ones were observant enough to pick up on such details. I wanted to seek out the ones who had the qualities of a good agent – one who could spy on the shipping routes of the Camonna Tong. In short, I was looking for slaves like Ri'Darsha.

Just by looking into his eyes I could see a certain energy, visible even in his physically weakened state – a “glow” that showed that a shrewd, intelligent mind lay behind those eyes. Yes, Ri’Darsha would make an excellent agent. I just needed to pry him away from House Redoran.

I thanked the Khajit for his help and turned to speak with the lieutenant.

“Tedril…these slaves are considered contraband, correct?”

“Correct. They are now property of House Redoran.”

“And what does House Redoran typically do with slaves that have been seized as contraband?”

“Well, they’re auctioned off – unless there are exceptional circumstances involved. Why do you ask?”

“I’d like to purchase these slaves, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“Sera?” Doren stared dumbfounded at me.

“You heard me. I’m willing to pay 15,000 drakes directly to the House Treasury in exchange for these slaves. I can guarantee that House Redoran won’t be able to auction them off for nearly that much, because it’s considerably more than they’re worth. Since I don’t have that much money in my pockets right now, you’ll have to settle for this certificate that promises that I shall deliver that gold within two days time.” I pulled a scroll out of my pack and began to write on it.

“But…I’m not…it’s not w-within my authority, muthsera!” he stammered.

“Why not? Auctions of government-seized property are usually conducted by a military officer, are they not?”

“W-well, yes, but –“

“Then this is perfectly within the limits of your authority! Simply deliver this note to your bosses and tell them that the contraband has been legally redistributed.”

“But –“

“That’s not a request, Doren.”

The lieutenant hung his head in defeat. “Very well, Hortator. It shall be done.”

“Good. Now, how are we in terms of hauling capability? Do we have enough men to carry these goods back to Gnisis?”

“We should have enough to do the job.”

“Splendid. Let’s bag and haul this contraband and head on home.”

The men began the task of carrying away the narcotics, while the slaves followed behind. A furry hand tapped me on the shoulder. It was Ri’Darsha.

“So…you are Ri’Darsha’s new master?”

“No,” I replied with a knowing grin. “You will be free once the men and I are finished, as will all the others. However, I do have a job for you…if you’re interested.”

“Ri’Darsha is listening.”

My smile grew wider. He would be a great agent indeed – one among many under my employ.

My mind was now made up. There would be no more lives wasted on these pointless raids. I’d had enough. It was time for me to take a risk for the sake of my countrymen. I had a plan…one in which Ri’Darsha would play a small part.

This post has been edited by bbqplatypus: Nov 26 2008, 09:16 AM