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]

Traveling to Ebonheart had felt unusual to Ocato. He was used to teleporting spells, but being able to teleport anywhere, anytime, without the use of a mark and recall combination, divine intervention or one of the other commonly used spells felt strange to even him. If Jauffre and Steffan felt the same they certainly did not show it. They looked as confident as ever.

Ocato had only been to Ebonheart once, but he recognized the council chambers there from his last visit. From what he was told by Jauffre, the chambers were hardly ever used now. Most of the meetings were held either at Mournhold, or in a great house stronghold somewhere.

Thinking back to a while ago, if he had to be honest with himself, he was happy rather than disappointed to formally recognize Morrowind as a separate nation. While his every instinct was aimed at keeping the Empire together, he also realized conquering Morrowind at this time, when the Great Houses could be united as easily as Lord Nerevar had shown in the last war, and where Wizards as powerful as Lord Nerevar, Divayth Fyr and reportedly Reynel Uvirith took a personal hand in everything that mattered to the province, would do more damage to the Empire than good. Even if they succeeded, which Ocato did not think likely, the cost would be stupendous. No, an alliance with such powerful people was a far better option…… for now.

Walking behind Lord Nerevar he asked; “What can you tell us about the Jester, Lord Nerevar?”

“Not much to be honest; like I said, he’s not too bright. He washed ashore one day a few years back without even a stitch of clothing on his body, and no shipwreck in sight. The Argonian mission found him and nursed him back to health. Afterwards, knowing he could not stay there, they asked me if I had work for him. He seemed to enjoy juggling and other acrobatic stunts, so I made him a Jester. Considering his lack of intelligence I thought it was the best and most harmless place for him.”

And one of convenience for you later on, Ocato thought. Lord Nerevar stopped in front of a door in a lower level of the Ebonheart council hall, and knocked. A bumbling sound inside told them the occupant of the room was in.
“Eh- e- enter.” A voice hesitantly sounded.

Opening the door, Lord Nerevar walked inside. As he stood to the side of the door Ocato first looked at the Jester. He was a spitting image of the Jester from his dream, only where the dream Jester had had a look of intelligence on him, this one did not. When Lord Nerevar had called him not too bright, it had been a serious understatement.

Lord Nerevar must have caught his thoughts from his face for he turned to the Jester and asked; “Jester, what can you tell us about yourself before you came to Ebonheart?”

“Be- b- before? I’s always been here, you’s knows this.”

“You don’t remember anything from before you came to Ebonheart?”

“There’s nothing before.”

Turning to Ocato, Lord Nerevar spoke; “Something isn’t right here. There has to be something we’re missing. What was it Talos said to you in your dream again, Ocato?”

“He said: ’In naming him, he will know himself” but do you think that means something, Lord Nerevar?”

“Hm, in naming him, he will know himself. Hm. What if, before sending him here, and to protect him from those who would do him harm, Talos wiped this young man’s memory? It would explain why I never caught up to the fact that he’s more than he appears to be. Come to think of it though, I never really did bother to look into it further, never even went through the trouble of having people ask around, see if someone might have known something. I guess that was a little subconscious suggestion from Talos.”

“So you think that by calling him by his name we could restore his memory? But if he washed ashore no one knows his name. What if it’s not his name, what if it’s something else?”

“A good point, Ocato, naming him; why do I assume naming him means calling him by his name? It could just as well mean naming him Emperor.” Turning around, Lord Nerevar bowed before the Jester who throughout all this had been looking at them with big eyes filled with curiosity, and spoke “Your highness.” Nothing happened, “My emperor,” still nothing.

Ocato thought about this and then had to laugh. “I’m sorry for laughing Lord Nerevar, but haven’t we just established the fact that both Morrowind and yourself, no longer belong to the Empire? He wouldn’t really be your Emperor then, would he?”

“Ha, you have me there, Ocato,” Lord Nerevar replied with a smile. He got up and moved away from the door further into the room. Chancellor Ocato took his place, and went to one knee, bowed his head and spoke the same words Lord Nerevar had started with; “Your highness.”

A broad beam of white light broke through the solid ceiling and enveloped the Jester. Slowly, a change seemed to come over him; intelligence seemed to dawn in his eyes. The beam disappeared and the Jester slumped down into a chair. He lifted his head and looked at Ocato kneeling before him. “You must be Chancellor Ocato. Wulf told me you would come for me.”

Chancellor Ocato looked from the face of the Jester to Lord Nerevar and back, and smiled. Lord Nerevar smiled as well. Wulf had done it to them again. No matter how clever and powerful they ever were, Wulf, no, Talos, would always be one step ahead of them.