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]

”Nerevar said, ‘I am afraid to become slipshod in my thinking.’
Vivec said, ‘Reach heaven by violence then.’”
- From The Thirty-Six Lessons of Vivec, Sermon Sixteen

Chapter IX

The central market in Sadrith Mora was busy as usual, even as sundown drew near. I watched from a distance as the workers, merchants, and slaves went about their duties. But my gaze was focused on one Khajit in particular – Ri’Darsha. He was doing the usual heavy work that slaves and beastfolk were typically expected to do – lifting and unloading crates and bringing in goods from the docks.

Then, a horn sounded, and all work came to a stop. The slaves finished their tasks, and the shopkeepers packed up their goods. The sun had nearly dipped below the horizon, and the open market was closing.

I watched carefully to see where Ri’Darsha went next. I nearly lost him amid the choked mass of people scattering about. He was headed north, toward Fara’s Hole in the Wall. I pulled the hood of my peasant’s robes over my head and followed him, taking great care to ensure that he did not see me tailing him. I ascended the spiral staircase and slid open the circular door, entering the tavern nearly a minute after he did.

I took a quick look around the room. It was filled with patrons, mostly Dunmer, who were drinking, talking, and making merry (well, they seemed less stoic than usual, at least). Ri’Darsha was sitting at a large table in the corner with a bottle of sujamma in front of him. He appeared to be waiting for someone.

I took a seat at the bar, as close to Ri’Darsha as I could get without getting suspiciously close. I stayed farther away than I might have otherwise, as I had great respect for the Khajit’s powers of observation.

“What’ll it be?” the bartender asked.

“Eh...make it a brandy,” I responded in a low, gruff tone, disguising my voice to avoid recognition.

The bartender handed me my drink. I drank slowly and quietly, waiting patiently and trying to keep a low profile. I attempted to blend in by striking up conversation with some of the more drunken patrons. None of them seemed to have much to say, however, so the conversations tended to be very short ones.

Finally, after nearly an hour of drinking and mingling, I saw four individuals approaching Ri’Darsha’s table out of the corner of my eye – two Dunmer, an Argonian, and an Imperial. They sat down and began talking to each other in hushed voices. I listened intently, but I heard little. I could make out the words “shipment,” “money,” and “boat.”

When their conversation had finished, the four of them left the table. Ri’Darsha sat there for a moment before getting up and leaving the bar. A few seconds later, I got up to follow them.

I looked out at the city streets from the top of the staircase, which the Ring of Azura enabled me to see without torchlight. There I could see four dark figures headed toward the city gate, as a Khajit followed closely behind them. Slowly and stealthily, I took off after them.

The Imperial pushed open the great stone disk that served as the gateway to the Telvanni city, and the rest followed. They were headed toward the docks – there could be no doubt of that. What they were doing there was unclear, but I had a feeling that I would have to move quickly. I crept through the gate just as it was about to swing shut.

The docks were illuminated by dozens of hanging lanterns, so I kept still in the shadows near the gate and watched them approach a large boat on the right side of the pier, near the Elf-Skerring. The people Ri’Darsha had been following climbed up the ramp and onto the boat. Ri’Darsha seemed to half-sneak, half-walk onto it. Then, I saw two of the four strangers get off the boat and stand still on the pier, as if guarding the boat. Suddenly, it dawned on me…Ri’Darsha was trying to escape under cover of night! I couldn’t let that boat leave the docks!

I walked casually down to where the ship was docked. There was only one narrow entrance onto the boat, so stealth was useless here. The Argonian and Argonian saw me and stood, posturing and crossing their arms in an attempt to look as intimidating as possible.

“What are YOU lookin’ at, Nord?” the Imperial snarled.

I decided it would be best to be as honest as possible. “I’m with the Imperial Legion. I’m the commander of this district, and I’d like to climb aboard your boat and look around a bit.”

“Do you have a warrant?” the Argonian asked, a skeptical expression spread across his face.

“Do I need one?”

“You do around these parts, pal,” sneered the Imperial. “This is our ship, and you’ll be playing by OUR rules.”

“You needn’t worry about my intentions, sirs. I’m not planning on arresting anyone. I’d just like to look around, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t give a damn WHO you are or WHAT you plan on doing. We’re NOT letting you on this ship. Now run along, Nord…or you’ll be FLOATING your way back home.”

Acting swiftly, I pulled out my sword. In a single motion, I sliced straight through the Argonian’s neck and brought the tip to the Imperial’s throat, holding it there. The Argonian lay writhing on his back in pain, grabbing his throat as it bled.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said, in a tone that was equal parts mocking and threatening. “I’m afraid I didn’t catch that. I believe you said, ‘Go right ahead, sir – we’ll stay out of your way.’”

“G-go right ahead, sir!” the Imperial stammered. “We’ll stay out of your way!”

“Good…now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

He shook his head furiously.

And so, with a grim smile, I walked up the ramp and opened the hatch to get below deck.

This post has been edited by bbqplatypus: Sep 27 2008, 04:20 PM