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]

I peered below deck to get a good look at what was going on there. Ri’Darsha had his back turned to me, and appeared to be examining the contents of a crate of moon sugar. He didn’t seem to notice the hatch opening, so I crawled inside, crept down the steps and announced myself.

“Am I interrupting something, Ri’Darsha?”

“Gah!” The Khajit jumped in surprise, nearly bumping his head on the ceiling. He turned and bared his claws, his body coiled to strike. Then, he noticed who I was. “Lord Grignr…? What are you doing here?”

“I think you know perfectly well why I’m here, Ri’Darsha.”

“Milord?” Ri’Darsha stared at me with a puzzled expression.

“DON’T you play dumb with me!” I smacked him across the face with my clenched fist, sending him flying across the room. I walked slowly toward him as he backed into the corner. “You betrayed my wife and daughter to the Dark Brotherhood!” WHAM! I kicked him in the stomach.
“You tried to have me KILLED! What I want to know is…who paid you to do it?” I grabbed him by the collar and looked him in the eye as he clawed vainly at me. There are many occasions when being tall and burly can be advantageous. This was one of those times.

“Ri’Darsha does not know what you are talking about! Ri’Darsha did not conspire against you!”

“LIAR!” I screamed, smacking him against the wall and lifting him up by the neck. His squirming and scratching grew more frantic and desperate. “You told me to go to Shroud Rock, where I was AMBUSHED by the Dark Brotherhood. You MUST have been in on the assassination! Now tell me who hired you, and I MIGHT let you live!”

“Sh-Sh-Shroud Rock?” Ri’Darsha croaked. “Ri’Darsha – ack! – has not – gahh! – heard of any – koff! – such place! Much less…told…Master Grignr…to…g-go there…”

“Impossible!” I snapped. “It was in your report…delivered with the Imperial Seal no less! You know as well as me that it can’t be duplicated! Quit this pointless charade and give me the name of your employer!”

Just as I was about to deliver another blow, however, I heard the hatch opening overhead. “Hello?” a voice called down. “Is someone down there?”

I turned to see a Dunmer walking down the steps. He glared at me. “Who the hell are you?” His anger turned to puzzlement as he saw Ri’Darsha. “J’Shavir? What are you doing down here? Snooping through our merchandise?” His look quickly shifted back to a hateful grimace. “You’re a spy, aren’t you? I knew it was too early to trust you…” He called back out above deck. “Balam! We’ve got a couple of spies down here!”

I turned to look at Ri’Darsha. He seemed genuinely worried. Could he have been telling the truth?

A second dark elf came down to get a look at us. He looked at Ri’Darsha and shook his head. “You disappoint me, J’Shavirr. I thought we would make great business partners. It seems I was wrong. You have caused the deaths of two of my closest associates. And now, you and your friend are going to have to die.” As he finished his last sentence, he and his associate drew their swords and began to walk toward us.

I quickly drew Trueflame and began to parry and dodge their attacks as best I could. It was a delicate dance of steel and flesh, and I was the better dancer of the three. I was at a disadvantage, however – I was not wearing my armor, and they had the high ground. Slowly, I was being pushed back toward the wall of the storage hold.

“Ri’Darsha!” I cried, sidestepping one of the Dunmer’s swift thrusts. “Help me!”

“How, sera? Ri’Darsha has no weapon!”

“I don’t know! Find something! Anything!”

I saw Ri’Darsha lunge for one of the crates as I continued to do battle with my twin assailants. They were using a very simple but effective alternating strategy against me – when the one on the left went high, the other went low, and vice versa. Frequently, I was finding that the only way to avoid both was to step backward. And I was running out of room fast.

Finally, I was nearly against the wall. I was starting to get desperate. I was standing on my tiptoes, dance shuffling from side to side, spinning around, and flicking my wrists to move my sword fast enough to connect. This form of swordsmanship left no room for error whatsoever. Sooner or later I was going to get sloppy and a blow would get through. And when I had to jump to avoid a well-placed swipe at the knees, I thought that moment had come. I was off-balance, and my torso was vulnerable to attack. The Dunmer on my left raised his sword in preparation for the killing blow…

…only to suddenly go stiff and drop like a felled oak. A trickle of blood flowed down both sides of his face – he had been shot clean through both temples. Further left, I could see Ri’Darsha standing there, wielding a smuggled dwarven crossbow. The other mer instinctively turned his head to get a look at his fallen comrade. I immediately seized the opportunity to strike and sliced his body cleanly in half.

I turned to Ri’Darsha and put my hand on his shoulder. “Thank you, Ri’Darsha. I apologize for ever doubting you, my friend.”

“Apology accepted, Lord Grignr,” Ri’Darsha replied. “Still, Ri’Darsha wonders what Lord Grignr will do to whichever man, mer, or beast he accuses of betrayal in the future. Ri’Darsha hopes that he is more polite to that person.” His voice conveyed quite a bit of resentment.

“Indeed…I’m really sorry about that, as well. I was trying to beat a confession out of you. I…thought you were trying to escape. Though, in retrospect, if you wanted to do that, you would have done it earlier. I...didn’t know you were doing an investigation. Again...I'm sorry.” I paused. “Who WERE those people, anyway?”

“Smugglers, of course. Ri’Darsha suspected they were quite high-ranking Camonna Tong remnants, and was trying to prove it. Word had spread that Lady Imsin had been murdered, and Ri’Darsha was very sad to hear it. Ri’Darsha’s first thought was of the Camonna Tong. So Ri’Darsha has been looking for smugglers close to Orvas Dren’s inner circle.”

“That makes sense. Unfortunately, we can pretty much rule out the Camonna Tong at this point. And Orvas Dren as well. Dren doesn’t have the resources or the guts to pull it off. His empire is crumbling, and he’s smart enough to know that I would kill him if he tried anything.”

“Ah, so he has nothing to lose, then?”

“True. But Dren is far too much of a narcissist and a coward to trade his own life and comforts for petty revenge. And then there’s the matter of the Imperial Seal. He may be the duke’s brother, but that’s not notable enough of a position to give him authority to use the Seal in his own correspondence. The Seal is a mark of high Imperial authority, and I can’t think of any major government officials who would want me dead, except for maybe…” My voice trailed off as it finally hit me. My eyes went wide as I suddenly realized the truth.

He had tried to kill me once before. I thought I had rectified any ill will he had towards me. I had bent over backwards to placate the monarchy…to ensure that I was never bothered again. And now, for reasons unknown, King Helseth had taken my family from me.

There was no question in my mind as to what the right course of action was. I had to go to Mournhold to find out why my family had been murdered...and to kill the man responsible. Even if he WAS the king.

This post has been edited by bbqplatypus: Sep 21 2008, 08:46 AM