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]

NOTE: Yes, I know Rethan Manor isn't as large in the game as it is portrayed here. I'm basing this off the Grandmaster of Hlaalu mod, plus the natural assumption that Grignr would expand upon the stronghold to fit his needs. This installment contains quite a bit of dialogue, an aspect of fiction writing with which I don't have a whole lot of experience. There's also some romance, which I have even LESS experience with. Anyway, I just hope you don't think it sucks.

Crossing my fingers,
BBQ Platypus




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Dagoth Ur paused momentarily for effect. He raised his hideous, clawed hand in front of his face, turned his palm inward and brought his fingers in one by one to make a fist, with the practiced debonair style and grace of a well-travelled troubadour strumming his lute. And then he spoke, his voice carrying the same terrifying calmness that it had before.

“It will all be decided here. I believe I will prevail. But I cannot be sure, and I am vain enough that, should I fall, I would wish to be remembered in my own words. So, if you have final questions you would ask, ask them now. I have final questions I would ask you, if you would answer.”

”You and I and all of Morrowind have waited three thousand years for this moment. A couple of questions should be no trouble at all.”

"My first question is…are you really Nerevar reborn?"

His voice, normally so composed and self-assured, seemed to hold the tiniest bit of doubt as he asked this.

“Listen carefully, Lord Dagoth, because I will say this only once. I do not like to repeat myself.” I removed my helmet briefly, wiping the sweat from my brow before continuing. “I am a self-made hero. I follow my own path and make my own destiny. I am no mere puppet of fate, prophecy, or the et’Ada. But the prophets have said that the spirit of Nerevar will return to inhabit a champion who shall defeat you in battle and bring an end to your reign of terror. And I AM going to kill you, Voryn, whether you believe it or not. Therefore, I AM Lord Nerevar reborn. And I shall prove it to you, to Morrowind, and to all the world on this day. The gods and fate have deemed that it is the destiny of the Nerevarine to kill the devil and sunder the false gods from the source of their unholy power. But it is by my hand, and NOT the gods and fate, that you shall fall.”

Chapter III

It took me but an instant to teleport from Gnisis back to Rethan Manor, my home; the first true home I had ever known in my life. And what a beautiful home it was – a practical castle in the true Dunmer tradition, unadorned as it was by unnecessary spires, staircases, or any of the typical signs of Imperial excess – just a few economically placed sentry towers that loomed overhead. It rose above the lush, verdant ocean of grass that blanketed the Odai Plateau, watching over the land – an oasis of justice in a desert of Hlaalu corruption. To see the sun set upon it, as it was doing now, was truly a marvelous sight.

But I had no time to take in the sunset. I materialized just inside the outer walls of the stronghold and made my way to the manor proper, leading Ri’Darsha by the wrist. Guards, both Hlaalu and Imperial, greeted and saluted me as I passed. In addition to being my home, it also served as a headquarters of sorts for all my political and Legion business. The compound was usually quite busy as a result, and today was no exception. Soldiers, nobles, merchants, and commoners alike walked about the courtyard, going about their business even as the daylight waned.

“So many people working for you, sera…” Ri’Darsha whispered into my ear. “What is it you want from poor old Ri’Darsha that all these men cannot do? Nothing illegal, he hopes…”

I cracked another smile. This Khajit never ceased to amaze me. “Not exactly,” I said quietly. “We’ll discuss it in my chambers when I meet with my advisors.”

“Ah, a very secretive Nord, this one…”

We entered the manor itself and made our way to the Legion office, where Imsin the Dreamer, my wife and second-in-command (as a Knight of the Garland), worked. From there, she dealt with garrison business for the House and Imperial troops stationed here, and also took over my duties while I was away (as I did for her while she was away). However, she had been confined to her office more often than usual lately, for she was with child, and had been for almost six months now.

The sentries at the door parted to let me through. I turned back to Ri’Darsha. “Wait here. I’ll be back in a moment.”

“As you wish, muthsera.”

I stepped into the office. Imsin was at her desk, dutifully looking over and filling out forms. Paperwork: the bane of every officer’s existence. She looked up from her work to see who had entered.

“Good evening, my dear,” I greeted her.

Imsin practically leapt straight from her desk into my arms to embrace me. “It is good to see you again, darling,” she said. “I’ve missed you so much. I wish I could go on these raids with you...”

“So do I,” I said softly. “But we cannot risk the child.”

“I know.” She looked down and put her hand on her pregnant belly. “I probably wouldn't even be able to make it that long without food. I can feel it moving and growing inside me more and more as the days go by. Listen…”

I bent downward and put my ear against her stomach. I heard a single soft thump…and then a second…and a third in quick succession. The baby was kicking – and it was kicking pretty often, too.

“Well…this seems to be quite the energetic little one. I know it will grow to be strong.” I slowly rose to look Imsin in the eye. “Like her mother.” I kissed her on the lips. We smiled at each other.

“So…how’s business with the Legion?” I murmured, still embracing her.

“Oh…nothing much…of interest,” she whispered to me in between passionate kisses. “General Darius says that they’ve brought in…Imperial geologists…to map out the…cave system…on the River Samsi. At Fort Moonmoth…they’re dealing with a gang of…highwaymen based outside Balmora. In Ebonheart it’s…business as usual, but Fort Wolverine…is noticing more smuggling…activity…going on lately. Raesa Pullia at Fort Buckmoth says that they just took down a…group of…stop it! That tickles! Necromancers.”

“Yes…she seems to have done a pretty good job over at Fort Buckmoth since I stole you away from there…”

But as I moved in to kiss her again, she backed off slightly and looked over my shoulder. “Who’s your friend?” she asked, gesturing toward the door.

I looked back and saw a fairly embarrassed-looking Khajit peeking through the door, which he was holding slightly ajar.

“He’s a new associate of mine,” I said, barely managing to stifle my laughter. Then I called out to him. “You might as well come on in, Ri’Darsha!”

He slowly slunk into the room looking rather sheepish, with his ears sinking downward and his tail twitching nervously. “Ri’Darsha is sorry for intruding, milord.”

“You’ve nothing to apologize for, my friend,” I assured him.

“Speak for yourself,” Imsin muttered under her breath.

“Now now – let’s be nice to the poor fellow,” I chided her. “It was an honest mistake. Still, I am curious…how did you manage to get a peek at us without the guards noticing?”

“The sharpest eye can be stricken blind by the right distraction, sera.” The Khajit grinned mischievously.

“Hmm…I think we’d better leave it at that. I get the feeling I don’t want to know. Regardless, I think I’m going to have a talk with those guards on the basics of sentry duty.”

Imsin glared suspiciously at him. “So…Ri’Darsha, is it? What sort of duty were you hired for, I wonder?”

“Ri’Darsha is not sure. Master Grignr has not told him yet.”

Imsin redirected her steel-hard gaze at me. “You haven’t even TOLD this poor Khajit what he’s doing here?”

“I needed to wait for the correct moment to do so,” I explained calmly. “His work is going to involve some sensitive information, and I simply hadn’t enough privacy to tell him about it on the way here. I think now would be a good time, seeing as how there’s nobody else here.”

“Go ahead, then. Tell Ri’Darsha what he is supposed to do.”

“Very well.” I cleared my throat and addressed the Khajit. “Now, what I am about to tell you is highly classified information. It must not leave this room. Do not reveal it to anyone unless I say you can reveal it to them. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I'll get right to the point, then. I am an agent of Imperial intelligence – a member of the Blades. I am, in fact, the acting Spymaster of the Vvardenfell District. I’m not particularly active or involved as a spy – for the most part, my fellow spies go about their business autonomously. Still, I have the authority and responsibility to serve as the eyes and ears of the Empire, as a representative of law and justice. I also consider it my duty to monitor the activities of Imperial and Dunmer officials themselves, to ensure that they stay true to the ideals on which this government was founded, serving the people rather than themselves. I am the one who watches the watchers.

“I am telling you this because I wish to make you an associate of the Blades. I do not have the authority to officially make you an agent – only the Emperor can do that. Still, you will be an Agent in all but name, and you’ll be well-paid for your service – 300 drakes a week. Understand, however, that you will be putting your life on the line. Do you accept?”

Ri’Darsha bowed his head to me in respect. “Ri’Darsha already owes you his life. Ri’Darsha would consider it an honor to work for you as a spy.”

“Excellent. You will be assigned to monitor Camonna Tong activities and shipments in Telvanni country, under the guise of a slave working in the town square. Sadrith Mora will serve as your base of operations – I have many such agents working in other important port towns, and I already have a few contacts in Telvanni territory who will help you get started. You’ll have the authority to employ additional help should you need it, and will also be expected to make recommendations of the use of force against suspected hideout locations.”

“So…Ri’Darsha will be looking for the sugar and the skooma, yes?”

“Not exactly. While severely restricting the flow of narcotics into Vvardenfell is our ultimate goal, you won’t be looking for drugs per se. Moon sugar and other such contraband can easily be hidden among normal goods, and can even be sent in smaller shipments to areas of shoreline far from the cities while still remaining a viable enterprise. Instead, I want you to keep an eye on the slave trade. As you know, slaves are a vital part of the Camonna Tong’s delivery network. If we could follow the slaves that the Camonna Tong are using, we’d be able to find their hideouts much more easily. You’ll need to look for a few telltale signs – frequent repeat business at the slave market, members of House Hlaalu with no good reason to be in Telvanni country, boats docked either outside or in the most remote areas of the harbor – those sorts of things. Do you think you’re up to the task?”

Ri’Darsha nodded.

“Good. You will leave for Sadrith Mora in one week’s time. In the meantime, there is a special task that I would like for you to do for me. I will tell you what that task is when the time comes. Right now, however, I must leave. I will return later.”

Imsin spoke up. “Why? Where are you going?”

“I have to speak with a few important officials and schedule a meeting,” I replied. “I have important plans that I wish to discuss with them. Your presence will be required as well. You two can have dinner in the meantime – the servants can probably cook something up for you. I’m sure you must be starving.”

Imsin shrugged. “Well, I have been doing an awful lot of paperwork…”

“Ri’Darsha has not eaten in three days,” my new spy cheerfully interjected.

And with that, I left the room and made my way for Ebonheart.

This post has been edited by bbqplatypus: Nov 18 2008, 04:57 AM