Cyrodiil Options

[Alexander]

Ok, so for the unavoidable introduction babble, as most of you know I was rather pleased with Morrowind. I thought it was far better then the dribble I wrote prior to that, and most people seemed to agree with me. After I finished Morrowind I already had an idea for a sequel, I actually wrote the very first chapter of said sequel while I was posting up parts of Morrowind. Unfortunately though, after that first chapter I kind of lost interest. I didn’t think the ideas I had back then were enough to weave an entire story together, and I was probably right.

But as these things have a habit of developing themselves, over the past months I kept thinking back to the sequel, and kept adding ideas to the pile I already had. Now it’s done. I once again enjoyed writing this, and I hope you’ll have similar fun reading it.

As I’ve explained in the past, I’m not very good at making up things like titles, Akatosh knows it took me about as long to come up with the various titles of the chapters as it did to write the entire thing, so I’ve named the story “Cyrodiil” (catchy wot? )

Before I end my babbling and get on with posting the story, I once again would like to thank Treydog for agreeing to help with my story as editor, and for fixing the many, many, many grammatical and spelling errors, and placing every comma, semicolon and whatchamacallit in the correct place. And thanks to everyone who ever read Morrowind, and commented. I really enjoy the comments.


Now, while you don’t have to have read Morrowind, I believe in order to get the most out of Cyrodiil, it would be recommended.


So, enough babbling and on to Cyrodiil.

[Alexander]

Chapter 8.

Tired and angry, Filben rounded a corner in the lower section of Nenyond Twyll. Up ahead yet another Necromancer was waiting for her. Her battle through the Ayleid ruin had been a hard one. Necromancers had accosted her even as she was nearing the ruin. Filben had considered heading back and reporting this strong resistance to the Arch-Mage first, but had decided it would be better to first see if she could find the informant no matter how many Necromancers she might come across. Besides, what if the man was in trouble?

So her fight through the ruin had commenced. Necromancers seemed to be waiting for her around every turn, even appearing from secret passageways at times, but somehow Filben had been able to either kill them, or send them running, but now yet another Necromancer waited. Sighing at the inevitable, Filben proceeded towards her. The surprise was great when rather then finding some nasty spell flying her way, the Necromancer instead spoke; “I’m afraid you’re late to the party. The guest of honor has already left.”

“What do you mean?”

“We found out who the traitor was, and I do hate to disappoint you, but Mucianus is in no condition to be leading. He’s a Worm Thrall now, and shall be quite content here.”

“How did you find out it was him?”

“That is of no concern to you, but I shall tell the master you were here looking for him. Perhaps I’ll bring him your head as an offering.”

And with that, the Necromancer fired a fireball at Filben. Filben was only narrowly able to dodge it, but shot back a shock spell from her staff which killed the Necromancer.

“I’ll never know what your name was, but in death you provided a service to the Mages guild.” Filben said aloud. Walking on past the body, she found two hidden levers that each opened a door leading into the room where Filben found the late Mucianus, now a Worm Thrall just as the Necromancer had told her. Feeling it was the right thing to do, Filben ended the existence of the Thrall, hopefully allowing Mucianus to rest easy.

So there was a traitor within the Mages guild? The Necromancer had indeed provided them with a service, if Mucianus had only been turned earlier that very day, then the traitor or traitors had to have found out about his identity after the meeting in the Arch-Mage’s chambers. It would seriously narrow the list of people it could be.

Good, all the more chance to flush them out soon.

Spending the night at the Faregyl inn seemed a better idea then traveling back in the darkness. She had already passed the inn on her way to Nenyond Twyll, and it seemed like a cozy place.


During the night she woke with a fright. Looking around the room, she thought she could sense someone else’s breathing. “Hello, is someone there?” She called out to the darkness, and the darkness replied.

“Hello Filben, I hope I did not give you too much of a scare.”

“Who are you? And what do you want from me?”

“Want from you? Nothing. The question is, what do you want from me?”

Thoroughly puzzled now, Filben waited for the man’s voice to continue. “The other day you killed a man in a black robe at the old bridge. In doing so, it seems you have done the Dark Brotherhood a service. We do not like being in someone’s debt, so we offer you our services on one job of your choosing. Regardless of the size of the job, we’ll be there. But afterwards be assured we are even, and will never see each other again, unless of course fate brings us together and it is my knife sliding into your back during the night.”

“You are the famed Listener?” Filben spoke.

“No, I speak for the Listener. Call me Lucien. Now, when you decide what you want us to do, leave a message at the statue of the lucky old lady in Bravil. Make sure it is addressed to Mathieu Bellamont. That name is the codeword. Repeat it please.”

“Mathieu Bellamont.”

“Good, now that that’s settled nighty-night little Bosmer. And sweet dreams.”

Pushing back the covers, Filben immediately cast a light spell, hoping to see what this Lucien looked like, but by the time the spell has been cast, there was no sign of the man.