Verick in Morrowind Options

[redsrock]

While writing The Connivers, I am also going to be writing this as well. I'm getting back into Morrowind once more, so I want to keep track of a story of what I do in-game, as well as throwing in some personal touches as well. Don't expect the chapters to be too long, and don't be surprised if I don't post a chapter every day.

The inspiration comes from the story, "Trey in Mournhold", written by Treydog. He is a wonderful author, and truly an inspiration to my writing. I've been reading his stories for some time now, but unfortunately have yet to give him the feedback that he deserves.

Chapter One

They shouldn’t have let me out. Despite the good that I’ve done, I’m really not sure if that justifies the evils I’ve accomplished along the way. I’m sure the historians will look back at me as a hero, but I’ll never see that. I am not a Dunmer, and I never wish to be a Dunmer. I dealt with them simply because I thought I had to. Thinking about it now, though, I’m not sure if I still agree with that. It doesn’t matter of course. What’s done is done, some thirty years later, and now I lie in a crypt of my own desire. Departed, but not quite dead…at least not in a physical standpoint. I apologize, though, for now I am rambling, and no one enjoys a rambler. So let me tell you my story and then perhaps you call tell me what I am. The angel or the monster.

********************


The day was still young when I woke up, and I knew this because there was no light shining through my cabin’s barred window, save for the moonlight of course, but to me that didn’t really count. The sun and moons are related, yes, but not quite the same. Resting next to my right on his own dirty bedroll was a Dunmer named Jiub. Over the years he’s gathered his own bit of fame, having driven out some pesky bird-like creature from Vvardenfell. The difference between he and I is that he’s actually been able to enjoy his prominence.

Rather than wake him from his slumber to ask him if he know how close we were to Vvardenfell, I instead grabbed a bucket to my left and checked for water. There was none at all, but I knew there had been before I had gone to bed. This meant Jiub had drunk the rest during the night, but ironically I was not even the least bit angry. I could not stand the Dunmer and their proud, arrogant ways back then and I can’t stand them to this day, but Jiub I was actually able to call my friend. There were others of course, but they’ve either passed on their mortal life and on to whatever else awaits them, or they forgot about me. The latter could probably be switched around as well, these days I couldn’t really tell you.

“It’s gone, my friend,” Jiub said. I jumped out of fright and looked at him, his crimson red eyes staring directly into my own pair of eyes, though mine are a pleasant blue. “Many apologies to you, but last night my cough was worse than usual. I’m surprised it did not stir you. It was rather loud, and violent.”

And another reason why I didn’t mind that he drank the water was that he definitely needed it. He had been sick for I don’t know how long. To this day I can’t fathom how I had not contracted whatever he had, even if it had simply been a lengthy cold. “There’s no need for an apology, Jiub. You need it more than I. Besides, the guards will be bring us a fresh bucket come sunrise.”

Jiub sat up cross-legged style and leaned against the wall of our cramped cabin. He stretched his back and I heard nasty pops, revolting sounds that I’ve never been able to forget. “I’m not so sure about that. Before I finally fell asleep last night I heard the guards outside talking; something about having passed the magical city of Vivec, home to the legendary Warrior-Poet himself. I doubt we’ll be on board this rickety ship much longer.”

“So you think we’ll be released?” I asked hopefully.

“It’s hard to tell. Releases seem to be more random than anything. I’ve been imprisoned for several years now, and I’ve seen other prisoners be released sporadically at random intervals. I’ve got a feeling I won’t be in luck, but perhaps you’ll fare better. I suppose we shall simply have to wait. As a matter of fact, I don’t even think this ship is moving.”

Minutes later, or maybe it was seconds, the door to our dark cabin opened, and a fat guard stood in the door way grasping tightly his silver Imperial-issued longsword in one hand. You would have thought he’d cut me some slack, being an Imperial as well, but that wasn’t how it was. I think he saw me lower than him because I was imprisoned. But if he knew that I knew most of his secrets he wouldn’t have thought that, that’s for sure.

“Stand up, scum!” he yelled my way, paying no attention to Jiub. “You’re getting off the ship now by the orders of his majesty himself! I do hope you realize how much an honor it is for the Emperor to even think your name. Get on deck, now!”

I looked at Jiub and simply nodded, not really knowing what else to do. Everything had happened so fast, it was surreal. I never would have thought they’d let me out so soon, if at all. Honestly, I probably deserved to be hanged myself. Lucky for me I come from a rich family with an even richer history. It’s too bad that richness isn’t alive today.

Jiub nodded back and I left the cabin, heading up a set of stairs to my right, and then out the hatch leading to the deck. Just as I had assumed, it was still nightfall. The hatch closed behind me, and a Redguard in Imperial uniform stood on the deck holding an iron spear and a gentle smile. Thankfully he was much nicer than the other guard. “You’re supposed to get off here, but why I don’t know. Just be lucky you’re even getting off. Not many other prisoners can say they have.”

“Where are we?” I asked him, rubbing the sleepiness out of my eyes.

“Seyda Neen, one of the few Imperial-owned ports in the entire Bitter Coast Region. Head on off the ship and speak with the next guard. He’ll take you to the Census offices where they’ll give you your release papers.”

After sixteen months, perhaps even more, I was getting off the boat. The thought was so wonderful, yet I was still having such a difficult time believing it was all true. It was like I was stuck in a dream. I sure wish that dream was still intact. Instead it’s been transformed into the eternal nightmare that is my life. But all of that will come later.

[redsrock]

Chapter Five


The second I walked through the door my nostrils were filled with the sweetest of smells, and my ears were filled with the most wondrous of sounds. A low rumble was ripping though the air, bouncing off of the walls and coming from sounded to me like some sort of drum, though the rhythm was…deeper than what I had been accustomed to hearing in Cyrodiil. The beating from the drum was more pronounced and fierce, fast beats that never seemed to break tempo. The sound was mesmerizing enough, but the smells of the food and drink were just as pleasant. I knew not what I smelled since I was in a foreign land, but whatever it was it was certainly appetizing to say the least.

In front of me was a relatively long hallway, with two closed doors on each side. A lone Khajiit was leaning against the first door on the right, and he was eyeing me curiously. His hands fumbled at his sides nervously, and as I tried to walk past him he stopped me by placing his furry arm on my shoulder.

“Hey!” I exclaimed, balling my hands into fists and assuming the Khajiit was attempting to mug me. Too bad for him he wasn’t aware that my pockets were empty.

“No, no, no!” he quickly said, his hands having retreated back to show his intent. “S’raasi no mean to hurt Breton. S’raasi only wants to sell Breton pretty amulet.” He took a silver amulet from the lining of his jacket and showed it to me. It was truly a gorgeous piece of jewelry, its smooth material shining in the light of the torches against the walls. But I had a hunch it was stolen. If Khajiit in Morrowind were anything like they were in Cyrodiil, especially in the Imperial City, I could almost guarantee it was stolen.

“Sorry, but I’m not interested,” I replied, starting to walk away. But before I could get away he pulled me back.

“Breton doesn’t realize what this is!” S’raasi shouted. “The gem in this amulet is very rare, found only in the islands of Sheogorad! It is worth more than a thousand drakes, but S’raasi will sell it to Breton for a mere five hundred!”

“No it’s not,” I shot back forcefully. “That amulet is silver, and worth a good amount of gold, but it’s nothing rare. You’re trying to scam me, and you’d best leave before I decide to turn your smelly boat in to the city guards.” The Khajiit looked me in the eye for a few seconds. I could his hands shaking anxiously, almost abnormally. “And the way you’re shaking, I’d say you’re high on something. Moon sugar, perhaps? I know you Khajiit drink Skooma like it’s water, and there’s no doubt in my mind that you smoke the blue powder as well; which is illegal of course.”

He tilted his head sideways, as if trying to figure out whether or not I’d turn him in. Because the question wasn’t whether he had the drug and alcohol on him, it was more a matter of how much. I couldn’t smell anything on him, but I just knew he was hiding some somewhere in his overlarge jacket. He started walked towards me slowly, when a voice rang out from down the hall.

“S’raasi! How many times have I told you not to pester people?”

I turned around and saw another Khajiit, this one female. She was standing at the end of the hallway wearing some kind of white shell-like armor, her hands on her slender hips and her face scrunched up in a scowl.

Before I knew what was happening I heard S’raasi move behind me. I turned to see him run out the door with such tremendous speed. For a moment I simply stood there on the dirty-blue carpet, wondering what in Oblivion had just happened. Did this new Khajiit hold some kind of leadership? Then I felt the other Khajiit’s presence behind me, so I turned back around to find her standing before me.

“This one apologizes for S’raasi’s behavior, Breton. Sugar-Lips Habasi is my name. Welcome to the South Wall Cornerclub! You are a Breton, yet you are rather short for one of your kind, and you are not wearing the normal set of mage robes that so many Bretons wear. Why is that?”

“Well…let’s just say I’m not your normal Breton.”

“Very well. If there’s anything Habasi can help you with, please, don’t hesitate to ask.”

She did a sort of awkward bow and smiled, her razor-sharp teeth glistening in the light just as S’raasi’s amulet had done. “Yes, well…there is something. I’m looking for an Imperial man by the name of Caius Cosades. Can you tell me his whereabouts?”

“Hmm….Habasi has heard of this name before, but she does not know much about this particular land-invader. This Caius lives just to the southwest of here, Habasi does know that. In fact, his house is the last on the left in the upper row of houses. Just take the stairs outside of the Cornerclub and take a left. The Imperial’s house will be straight ahead at the end of the street. Of course, Habasi grows old and her memory sometimes fades. I apologize if that ends up being the case. But Habasi does assure you, the house in the in the last row somewhere.”

“Thanks, I appreciate the help.”

I started to leave, but, similar to what S’raasi had done, Sugar-Lips Habasi grabbed my arm. “Habasi is sorry once more, but I’ll have to ask for a few gold coins. Information is not free after all.”

Suddenly a tight knot formed in my stomach, for I wasn’t expecting anything like this to happen. “I’m sorry, but I don’t have any gold. I’m broke.”

“This one does not believe in such a phrase, for if that were true, how have you traveled to Balmora? Habasi has never seen you before, and if you walked here your clothes should be drenched in sweat, since it is the heart of Sun’s Height.”

“You want to check my pocket? I’m not lying.”

She smiled again, this time more reticently. “Sorry, but Habasi does not mingle with those not of her ethnic line. I will have to trust you this once. But remember what this one has said. Information is not free in these parts.”

I didn’t say anything, but instead nodded and then left as quickly as possible.




********************

Outside the two Khajiit were still gone, along with S’raasi as well, thankfully enough. I’ll admit I that had a bad feeling all three of them would be waiting outside to cut me into a hundred pieces, for in Cyrodiil the Khajiit beasts could always be found in groups. It would take me a while to get used to Morrowind’s differences.

I followed Habasi’s exact orders and ascended a set of stairs to the right of the Cornerclub. Then I took an immediate left and walked all the way down the street and came upon a lone building adjacent to the normal row of other houses. There were no signs as to whether this was the right place, for the exterior of the house was quite bare of anything. So I knocked on the door several times, and a few seconds later it opened. A man stood in front of me. At first glance I thought he was rather old, but then I realized it was just his balding and gray hair on the sides. He was likely not even in his sixties yet. Of course, fifties aren’t exactly considered young either.

“Yes, can I help you?” the man asked, his eyes looking me up and down with the most obvious stare of annoyance.

“Yes…are you Caius Cosades?”

“What if I am?”

“My name is Verick Syntras. I have a package to deliver, apparently from the Emperor.”

At the mention of Emperor, his look of annoyance quickly turned to one of curiosity and surprise. “The Emperor, you say?”

“Yes, sir. I was just released from prison in order to deliver this package to you. I know it sounds crazy, but that’s the truth.”

And now his look changed yet again, this time to disbelief. “Empty your pockets and show me you are not an assassin,” he said, his hand now resting on the scabbard of an iron dagger at his side. “Do it now.”

Before he could slice me up I turned my pockets inside out and then raised my arms in the air to show that I was not carrying a weapon. Finally he motioned for me to follow him inside, and I did just that. I walked into the house, and to my surprise, Caius locked the door behind us. “Hand me the package,” he ordered.

I handed the package to him and then stepped to the side of the room in the corner. Caius walked over and sat down at a table beside his bed. It was a one-room house with not much living space to speak of. There was a desk, two bookshelves, a bed, some barrels in the corner next to me, and then a small round table with three chairs just beside the barrels. The only source of light came from a single torch on the wall above the head of his bed, along with two short blue-wax candles on the round table. I smelled something burning in the room, and that’s when a noticed a smoking-pipe on his desk. The smell was wasn’t as unpleasant as I had smelled so many times in the offices of the Imperial City. Rather, it had almost a sweet smell to it, no doubt because of the exotic herbs and spices Morrowind held.

Caius opened the package and took out a folded parchment. He unfolded the document and began reading it, his eyes scanning up and down, taking peeks at me every few seconds. After he was done reading, some five or so minutes later, he put the parchment back in the package, and then stuffed it under his bed with a slow flick of his muscular wrist.

“Verick…Syntras, you say your name is?” He asked me. While the tone of curiosity had not completely vanished, he was also more cheerful than before. Not by much, but some was better than none.

“Yes, sir, I did.”

Sir had been a title I learned at a very young age. Sir was how I addressed those above me during my years in the offices of the Imperial City, and that has stuck with me ever since. I even addressed the guards of the prison that way, much to their bewilderment.

“You have not attempted to break the lock of the package and then read the parchment, have you?”

“No, of course not. I have no lock picks in my possession.”

“Good. I am going to have to ask you to come back to me in a couple of hours. There…there is something we need to discuss, but I need some time to…prepare. “

I was drastically confused as to why I was still being asked to follow orders. And while I had a hint of questioning that I was more important than some mere messenger boy, now it was more of a fact. Something was up and I wanted some answers. Also, I had to be sure not to cop too much of an attitude. This was the Empire I was dealing with, and this Caius was likely an agent himself. It would definitely not be a smart move on my part to anger him in any way.

“I want to know what is going on. I was released from prison and told to give you a package, for whatever reasons I am still greatly unaware of. And now you say give you a couple of hours because there is something we need to talk about? Please tell me what is going on. I may not be the most intelligent person in the world, but I am not an idiot.”

Caius smiled at this, and stood up from his desk, his knees cracking under the pressure. “Verick, it is obvious that you were not released from prison simply to deliver me a package. If you actually thought that I’d have to call you an idiot to your face. You do have a great amount of importance, though, and that is why I ask for your presence at a later time. Unfortunately that’s all I can say, for not at least.”

“And what if I decide to leave Balmora?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer.

“I’m afraid that would be a horrible decision, Verick,” he said, chuckling even. “If you are indeed not an idiot, you should realize the Emperor has sent at least one agent to follow you…likely more. I don’t know this for sure, though, I am just taking an educated guess. I highly doubt the Emperor would send you here without staying aware of your whereabouts.”

“Yes…I thought so,” I said, admitting defeat. For the time being, it appeared I had no choice but to cooperate. “Fine. I’ll be back in…a couple of hours?”

“Make it a few I’d say. It may take me a while to do what I need to do. Here are fifty drakes. Do with them what you like, just don’t get into any trouble.”

I took a small pouch of gold from him, and then nodded and left the house, heading back towards the Cornerclub in order to get a bite to eat and something to drink. But before I could even think about anything, three figures stood in front of me, roughly twenty yards away. S’raasi stood in front of me, along with the other two Khajiit I had seen earlier as well.

“Habasi is not here to save the Breton now,” S’raasi taunted. I looked around and realized the street was bare of anyone else besides the four of us, much to my dismay. “I think it’s time we teach the Breton a lesson in manners. Perhaps we start with his tongue?”

The three of them took out iron daggers and began walking slowly towards me, sly grins spread across their faces and gripping their daggers with much aggression. I had been backed into a corner with nowhere to go, and unfortunately for me there was no use in running. Khajiit were fast beasts. Of course, like I mentioned to Habasi earlier, I am not your normal Breton.