Yesterday's Shadow Options

[Olen]

Its been a while since I wrote anything of length but, after a few false starts, I have churned out the first few thousand words of something which could get fairly large. I'm not totally happy with it (though I doubt I ever would be) but it should improve as I get back into writing, any comments et al would be appriciated.

1. Gold

I shivered as an icy breeze touched me. Was it real? Yes. I brushed aside my doubts. The Wolverine Hall was built by dunmer: of course it was dark, damp and cold. So cold. I pulled my cloak closer about me and looked around the gloomy room of the Mages Guild. A few guttering candles cast a sickly light on heaps of shadowy grimoires. Crazy reflections scattered from the grease-smeared tangles on an alchemy table. The creation of a deranged glassblower with hiccoughs. In spite of it being Evening Star there were still a couple of mages braving the winter on Azura’s Coast. They kept their rheumy eyes fixed on whatever devilry they were working on and ignored me. I waited idly and rubbed at my arms.

A door opened and I got a brief glance of a small room behind before it was shut again by the old Argonian who entered. A frown flickered over his features as he regarded me with sharp red eyes, “You must be the man from the Fighter’s Guild. Not what I expected, but no doubt Hrundi knows what he’s at,” Skink-in-Trees’-Shade smiled, his teeth were green from chewing hackle-lo, his sour breath twisted my stomach, “I have work for you.”

“I know. What I don’t know is why you couldn’t have left it with Hrundi like any normal contract, your demands are already weird enough.” My breath left a plume of steam in the air.

“I think eight thousand drakes is enough to allow me to make demands,” the lizard paused, I shivered but said nothing. I couldn’t afford not to get the contract. “I know well enough what is required and agreed it with Hrundi but the job itself requires discretion. Hrundi lacks discretion when he drinks…

“Three months ago I sent a group to investigate a ruin on the coast north of Firewatch, just south of Ilethi Point. The last report I received was dated late Frostfall, over six weeks ago. I want you to find out what happened.”

“What sort of ruin is this?” I said warily.

“Its… unusual. That’s why we want to investigate it and why this situation requires subtlety. I would send my own mages but it is deep in Telvanni lands.”

“Has it occurred to you that four men might be hard pressed to clear a ruin full of Telvanni?” I never understood why mages just didn’t get fighting. Another icy draught brushed me. I shivered and scratched an itchy patch on my arm.

“If it is then you will know what happened, investigate as far as you can and return. But I suspect that it is not. Most likely messages have just gone missing, as they do.” Argonians are hard to read but it didn’t take any guile to know Skink didn’t believe it. Neither did I, why spend eight thousand septims to get the best and go to such lengths of secrecy for missing reports.

I said nothing. Nothing I was likely to say would be helpful. I needed the job.

For a moment Skink was hesitant then he said, “If that is all you had best prepare. I will have a boatman waiting for you at dusk,” I nodded and turned to go but he continued, “A word of warning: do not use any teleportation near the ruin. We do not understand why but the only attempt to date prove quite… messy. If you do get into a tight spot read this,” he proffered a scroll and a money pouch, “I will know and do what I can. Otherwise do not rely on magic.”

He stopped abruptly and turned back towards his room. I was about to leave again when he called back, “And by the nine get yourself a fix with that gold. You scratch like a nix with mange.” He shut the door behind him.

For a moment I was too shocked to move. Was it that obvious? It was four days since my money had run out. I’d gone longer, but only once. Descending the dank spiral stair made my stomach shrivel and, backed up by the bag of gold, firmly killed any thoughts of going another hour without. I paused outside the fighter’s guild to fight down nausea before I went in.

Hrundi was waiting for me, “What did the old lizard want?” he asked.

“They’ve lost a bunch of folk investigating some ruin.” I wasn’t sure if Skink wanted Hrundi to know and I didn’t care.

“Same old,” Hrundi ran his fingers though his greying beard, “If I had a hundred drake for every mages’ guild expedition I’ve bailed out the mages would have paid me,” he rumbled a laugh, “So where’s the catch? You don’t give four folk a year’s wage for nowt.”

“He wouldn’t say but he wants us at the dock this evening.”

“Then Lysander won’t be joining you, news is his silt strider crashed, driver was probably pissed. I can’t see him arriving before tomorrow night.”

“Damn, that’s a problem,” it was too. Lysander was the only person I had directly asked for. The fighter’s guild in Morrowind was a shadow of what it had been before the oblivion crisis. “Are any of your local boys a quarter competent?”

Hrundi laughed mirthlessly, “You ain’t got a whole lot of choice. I’m too old, Sondryn’s already on a contract. That only leaves young Varnan.”

“There’s only three of you in the guildhall?”

“Yes. Who would want to be here? It shouldn’t matter though, the other two are good.”

“So you keep saying. Where are they?”

“Stocking up in town, I sent them to get the supply list you left.”

“Good,” I turned away from Hrundi. Now Skink had given me means to get it skooma was all I could think of. I hurried though the damp corridors and out into the squalid courtyards of the Wolverine Hall.

I kept close to the wall out of the wind-driven sheets of rain. The guard on the bridge looked as grey as the iron sky. The instant I stepped onto it I was soaked to the skin, to my left, and mercifully downwind, the giant fungus houses groaned in the storm. I turned away from them toward Muriel’s, golden light shone though the windows. I pushed the polished doorknob and stepped into the warm air of conversation and rich smell of roasting meat and beer.

However inviting I had no intention to take a seat in the common room. I hadn’t been in Muriel’s in years and didn’t remember the place. It didn’t matter. All corner clubs are essentially the same. I started upstairs and sure enough found a much smaller room full of distinctly shady characters. A grey-haired altmer looked at me as she would a gaur’s leavings on the street. I barely noticed, I could smell a sickly sweetness in the air. A dunmer opposite caught my eye and nodded. Apparently it was that obvious.

I wandered over to him. “You got skooma?”

“Yes, the finest in all Vvardenfell. You got money?” I hate pushers. There’s something about them which makes my fists itch. And they all claim to have the best.

“Let me see the goods,” I growled.

The dunmer paused to brush an imaginary piece of lint from his opulent, yet slightly too gaudy, clothes before reaching into a bag and withdrawing two vials. “This,” the dunmer gestured to the larger one with a bejewelled hand, “Is good stuff, Hlaalu import. Came in though Lake Hairan along with the standard stuff. This, on the other hand, is Tenmar white – costly but well worth it to the discerning palate.”

“How much?”

“Forty gold a quarter for the standard, sixty for the Tenmar.”

The bag had two hundred and fifty in it, even allowing for the high prices on Vvardenfell I expected more. “Half a bottle of the cheap for two hundred.”

“Not a chance. That should be five hundred.”

“I’m buying bulk. Two hundred.”

“Three hundred.”

“Ok two fifty and you’ll throw in a dash of that Tenmar white or I’ll take my business elsewhere.”

The dunmer scowled then got out his scales. I got out my pipe. His eyes widened momentarily as I measured out my dose.

[Olen]

Cheers for the replies, any comments are more than welcome. So without further ado the notes:


6. Diary

4E25 10 Frostfall

We have arrived, and what a gods forsaken place. The earth’s exhalations are of interest however, suggesting that the deep earth does not rest easy here and further supporting Gaston’s theory that this has dwemer origins. Certainly fascinating but I’d almost like to see him wrong simply because he is such an insufferable nyah.

The tents were pitched without incident and tomorrow we shall begin excavations, this is indeed most exciting.

4E25 14 Frostfall

Progress has been slower than I hoped but it looks like we definitely know where the entrance will be. The external parts of the ruin pose quite a quandary. In style they are reminiscent of high elven or ayleid design but it is made mostly from metal which resembles dwemer alloy. Gaston continues to insist this place is dewmeric but the design is atypical to say the least. His logic is as flawed as was Skink's when he gave us joint command.

I have an alchemist examining various aspects of this blasted valley, we've been here days and seen nothing alive. The ground seems poisoned, the lochan most certainly is. One of the slaves took a drink from it and is in a most poor state of health.

4E25 17 Frostfall

A week and we are still to break through though it is possible the night shift will. The idiot slave who drank from the pool is dead and we had to subdue one of the argonian slaves after he developed psychasthenia, a worrying sign, though fortunately enough remain. Thendil was a little heavy handed dealing with it and the argonain perished, there shall be words about such wastage guild resources.

I must say this place gets me down, the stench, the dust, the wait. It’s all frightfully tedious. Gaston continues strutting and staring like an anally retentive altmer. Thendil on the other hand is an altmer. Still there has been some study done. Further examination has almost convinced me that the architecture is ayleid though of course such a theory would risk seeming ludicrous were it mentioned without further evidence.

4E25 19 Frostfall

It took another three shifts but we have reached and broken through the entrance. So far I haven't ventured far inside, though the small amount I have seen is odd. The theme of the outside is redoubled within with further examples of skewed ayleid grace. I think Gaston has ventured further in that he was meant to, trying to steal a march on me. He also mentioned ayleids. I wander where that idea came from.

One thing I did notice was that steam could be heard inside the ruin. The slaves are becoming unhappy, especially the argonians. Other members of the group are also uneasy with the ruin, I must say is has a miasma to it which rather puts me on edge. Some of seem to delight in it though.

4E25 25 Frostfall

Murder! This turn of events is most vexatious and worries me.

We're sending most of the slaves away now. All the digging and shoring has been completed and now the work of study will continue with out the distractions they cause. They have been increasingly erratic until today one was slain. The body of a khajiit was found a way into the ruin stabbed with poison, and not bunglers bane, this was clearly prepared for. I ordered a number of slaves to stay as I worry about the air in the ruin and the potentiality of traps. Having them walk a distance ahead somewhat negates this danger.

On a brighter note our examinations of the initial level have revealed a door leading downward. The lock is astoundingly complex and seems unresponsive to magic. It may simply come the brute force, though that would be Gaston and Thendil's preferred route and would risk damaging the structure. I will block them as long as I can.

Gaston has been keeping to himself more, I begin to suspect he is up to something. Could he have found something which he is keeping to himself? It certainly seems possible. I must stay vigilant.

4E25 2 Sun’s Dusk

I have been neglecting my journal. But so much has happened I have hardly had any time. We have gone deeper into the ruins and found many fascinating yet often inexplicable objects. The whole place buzzes with magic, I can feel it. It is certainly enticing - some researchers are spending almost all their time in the ruin now. I must confess that I still find it makes me a little uneasy and I prefer to sleep outside it.

We cracked the door with fire magic in the end, even so it took too much if our supplies to focus sufficient heat on it. Behind it there were further objects and devices and also books. The only I recognised was a sload tome though there were others in that language. There is a deep shaft in this section which I intend to examine though Gaston insists he should. He seeks to undermine me at every turn and I know that soon he will attempt to seize the leadership. I will oppose him with all necessary force though I fear it will be he that initiates the violence. I am ever prepared and vigilant.

4E25 5 Sun’s Dusk

Gaston attempted the go down the shaft today. I prevented him but it has strained our leadership to breaking point. He has rejected my claim of authority, quite preposterous though that n'wah Thendil backed him up. They have not left the ruin for several days now and I suspect that as soon as I do they will return to the shaft, I cannot trust any other to tell me, especially not those in the ruin – they are all in league with the traitors. At least those outside are somewhat loyal, I dare not sleep in the ruin but this is ok. I have diluted two of the best rising force potions so if he tries anything with them he will surely fall to his death. The choice is his.

4E25 7 Sun’s Dusk

The treacherous scum showed his true colours today. By my cursed luck Gaston did try to enter the shaft, though later than I had suspected, but Thendil and another mage fell first and he escaped death. Immediately he accuses me of murder while he disobeys my orders! With two who remain loyal I managed to leave with all the most valuable finds to stay outside, the traitors are within. I still think they will see sense and, once Gaston has seen justice, we can continue. Still vigilance and caution are imperative so I had the few remaining slaves, we loose them too quickly now, put defences around the ruin and have two men keeping watch for the camp.

4E25 10 Sun’s Dusk

Disloyalty is everywhere, I know some person, or persons, are in the camp undermining me and supporting Gaston. Still I have the support of most of them. Oh they squealed when I put the barriers up but they don't squeal now Gaston has attacked us. We fought them off and drove them back into the ruin to regroup but I know they will come again soon. Even with his spies we shall crush them.

As soon as the wounded are healed I shall put a blockade around the ruin. We are better supplied and we shall prevail.

4E25 13 Sun’s Dusk

It is impossible! They fight from inside the ruin appearing then scurrying back like vermin. Have they no honour to face us and be crushed. I tried attacking them but it is too well defended, and what discoveries might they be making while I am stuck out here?

This very situation is impossible. What has driven Gaston to force me to these lengths? There is something about this valley, mutterings of discontent, the very air breathes perfidy. Our blockades will hold but I am not blind to the murmurs amongst my own. Soon I must act boldly to end this stalemate.

4E25 17 Sun’s Dusk

It has happened, as I suspected they conspire against me. A murder in my own camp. Verrila, a passable but thoroughly dislikeable mage, was found with her throat slit this morning. They mean to scare me but I shall show them. They might try to set up separate holdings, to court the enemy but I shall ride this storm and this excavation shall be my success. I now see my past mistake: I can trust no one! They all bask in connivery and plot.

Still they dare not show themselves for they have seen my true quality. My policy of patience and wait is coming to fruition, the enemy in the ruin make ever more desperate attacks and pleas for they are dying. My moment of triumph comes as their supplies run dry and in their desperation their minds deteriorate. They do all I could wish for and more. Truly this is my moment of triumph.

4E25 19 Sun’s Dusk

I hate this cursed ruin. I hate it but I must finish the excavations before I can get my well-deserved rest. A deserter stole away today and tried to cast an intervention spell. His ending echoed though the valley and spread him on the dry dusts. Let that be a lesson to them all.

I have decided on another lesson though. If they will conspire let them but it will break up their little game when I poison the supplies. They shall see why they should not cross their lord, see that I am just yet my vengeance is terrible. Just as soon as the last pitiful attempts of those inside finish then I shall make my move. They actually begged today, came forth filthy and grovelling, half starved and half mad from the ruin. Even as my men threw missiles and cast spells they came on. I doubt we shall see much more from them but as ever I shall be vigilant.

4E25 20 Sun’s Dusk

Someone has poisoned the supplies! What madman would try such a thing. My enemies are crushed. Divided as they turned on themselves. We can be counted on a single hand now, and watch each other warily. I was insufficiently vigilant, as ever the guard comes down just when you need it but I was not killed. Soon maybe but not yet, someone must make the first move. Then we shall see who is the true master.

4E25 23 Sun’s dusk

It comes. Soon now. Vigilance? Pah. I never even considered. I am not ashamed to admit my terror. Soon now, so very soon.


My hands shook as I shut the book. As I read Keersk and Thyra had moved to listen, trouble shadowed every face.

“I have heard of similar things,” Keersk said slowly, “There was a fighters guild job up in sheogorad which went wrong. After a month one man killed the two others.”

“That's three men. How many were here?” said Varnan.

“If there is one to be found then I think the answer will be inside,” said Thyra.

I shuddered inwardly, “Not tonight,” I said, “We should make camp and decide what to do come morning.”

The camp was subdued that night, twice I slunk away for some skooma but it did little for my mood. Keersk wrinkled his long nose but said nothing as he concentratedly drank himself into oblivion under Thyra's disapproving eye. I toyed with the notion of using the scroll Skink had given me. But what danger necessitated that? Thoughts. Ideas. As far as we'd seen there was nothing else alive in the valley. Only shadows to jump at.

I turned in early and Varnan followed close behind me muttering something about feeling awkward.