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 next morning, I left the Gateway Inn behind and prepared to leave. But before I did, I decided to bid farewell to Ri’Darsha. I approached him in the bustling, haphazard streets of Sadrith Mora. He was wheeling a cart of fruit down the street. I caught up with him and began to walk abreast with him.

“Good day, friend,” I said to him.

“Good day, stranger,” he replied in a nonchalant tone as he checked over his shoulder for eavesdroppers. He leaned in close and lowered his voice. “What is it that you wish to talk to Ri’Darsha about?”

“I just wanted to say goodbye…and also to thank you for all you’ve done for me. I just thought that, since this may be the last time we ever see each other, I would show my appreciation in case I don’t make it back.”

“You mustn’t speak that way, milord. You are quite capable of surviving greater peril than this. Ri’Darsha has great confidence that you shall return. And if you were to kill the king, there would surely be many who would be willing to accept you as their leader instead.”

“Maybe…do you really think I could do it?”

“You are Nerevarine, hero of Morrowind. For you, all things are possible.”

“I wish that were true, my friend,” I said. “But sadly, it is not. I cannot undo the past. I cannot get back that which I have lost.” We both remained silent for a moment. “I want to ask you a question, Ri’Darsha…a very personal one.”

“Ri’Darsha is listening.”

“Why did you agree to work for me in the first place?”

“You set Ri’Darsha free. He owes you no less than his service.”

“No…you don’t owe me anything. You never did. I would have freed you whether you were useful to me or not. You could have gone anywhere, done anything, after I freed you. You could have become a miner, a thief, or a paid laborer. You could even have returned to your ancestral homeland of Elswyr. And yet you chose to work for me, when all I did was ask. I did not force you to accept.”

“None of those jobs interest Ri’Darsha. Nor do they pay as well.”

“True…but a life of crime might. I am not the only one with money and power who would be interested in your services. You could have just as easily have taken my money and disappeared without a trace. My grief is such that I might not have noticed or cared. And yet, when my entire world – all that I’ve fought for, all that I’ve cared about – seems to be crumbling around me…the pieces slipping through my fingertips…you remain ever faithful to me. Though I have nothing left to defend…nothing left to fight for. Why are you so loyal? What reason do you have to serve as well as you do?”

Ri’Darsha’s eyes glanced sadly downward toward the ground. “Ri’Darsha has nowhere else to go, milord. Ri’Darsha is alone. When the slavers came to Elswyr, they took his family from him and scattered across the Morrowind province. He does not expect he will see them ever again. Ri’Darsha had almost lost hope…until you came and freed him from his prison. And there, as you stood in front of him, Ri’Darsha saw his future.” He briefly set down the cart and scratched his head. “It is strange…Ri’Darsha feels as though he was destined to follow the Nerevarine. It was a feeling that Ri’Darsha was meant for greatness of some kind…he has felt it all his life. And for some reason – though Ri’Darsha does not know why or how – he knew it led through you. It probably sounds so foolish…”

“No…” I said, stroking my chin in deep thought. “Not at all. In fact…I know exactly what you mean.” I looked Ri’Darsha in the eye. “You are being pushed, pulled…compelled by an invisible and irresistible force. There is a deep and powerful urge within you that compels you to continue…as though you are being pulled forward by your own viscera. It feeds your curiosity, making you anxious to know more. You don’t know what it is, but you will do anything to find out – to know what you were meant for.”

Ri’Darsha nodded in amazement. “Yes, yes…that is what it feels like…”

“Well…it’s good to know I’m not alone. We are kindred spirits, you and I. We have this impulse that drives us to make choices we might not otherwise make. Now, we can choose not to act on it. Some people spend their entire lives ignoring the call. They run from danger and hide from mystery. But it is not in our nature to refuse such a challenge. Instead, we want to face it. We demand to know. It’s why you agreed to work for me. It’s why I’m about to confront a king in his own palace. I know now that you will be loyal to me until the end…and that there is more at stake for me than revenge. I’m glad I talked to you, Ri’Darsha.”

“As am I, milord.”

“Farewell, my friend.”

“Goodbye, Master Grignr.”

I slipped on my signet ring and vanished without a trace.

This post has been edited by bbqplatypus: Sep 29 2008, 06:27 AM