Memoires of Rales Sarethi, A Morrowind fanfic Options

[Remko]

Dear readers, I posted this in the unnamed forum but since you were so kind to invite me here, I thought I'd "grace" you with my drivel. Without further adue, I present you the adventures of Rales Sarethi.

Part I Homecoming

Chapter 1: Seyda Neen.

Day 1

Over thirty-five years ago, I think I was about nineteen, maybe twenty, I got pulled from my bunk in the cell in Imperial City and was told I was to be deported to Vvardenfell immediately. First by carriage and then by boat.
Gods, even up to this day I resent carriage rides, they’re bumpy, dusty and tiresome, I prefer a horseback ride anyday.

The seajourney is pretty much a blur in my recollection, the gentle relaxing motion of the boat made me drift into a careless and refreshing slumber.
I briefly opened my eyes at times the sea was exceptionally rough and I remember a gentle yet compelling voice speaking to me. Can’t remember the words though, just the sound of the voice that stuck with me.

I woke up when a fellow Dunmer, one donning a huge scar across his face, told me we had arrived and that I needed to get off the boat. He called himself Jiub and asked what my name was. I politely answered my name was Rales. I didn’t bother telling him my last name, after all, he hadn’t told his either.
I never saw the guy again after I disembarked. A shame really, he was kind of like-able.

A grumpy Redguard legionnaire ordered me to report in at the Census and Excise office outside. Like I had a choice. On the boardwalk towards the offices, an Imperial officer asked me several random questions, like my race. Like he couldn’t see for himself. Sjeezzz…. I had to refrain myself from rolling my eyes and possibly insulting or upsetting the guy. Instead, I acted like the good Dunmer they wanted me to be, I played along and answered his questions.

After I had satisfied his curiosity he ordered me to report in at the office for my release form. ‘Release form? I was going to be released?’
I could hardly believe my pointy ears at that time. Let me tell you; looking back on what they had me go through, sometimes I wished they had left me to rot in prison. With a straight face I walked towards the rickety wooden structure that was the consensus and excise office. I couldn’t be showing surprise about my release, what if they had made a mistake and changed their mind?

Quickly I proceeded into the building. An elderly Imperial was sitting behind a desk, going through piles and piles of documents. Pre-occupied as he seemed to be, he hadn’t noticed me yet or maybe he was just ignoring me. Perhaps it had been my body-odour? Figuring that was hardly my fault, they were the ones that had plucked me from my cell, dropped me on a boat and had me report into an office without the chance to clean myself up. I shrugged and softly cleared my throat to get his attention, I didn’t want to startle the old man lest he would die from a heart-attack. Knowing my luck, they’d probably blame me and I’d be back where I started, in jail.

The following conversation with the old git almost felt like a job-interview. Socusius Ergalla, the census and excise officer, asked me all sorts of questions; like my starsign, my skills and whatnot. I didn’t have a clue what they wanted with the info but since it was hardly a secret, I just answered them while the Imperial wrote it all down on some sort of form. After the interview, Socusius told me to take my release form (that’s what the form turned out to be) to Selles Gravius where I’d receive orders. I was almost speechless - almost. ‘Orders? Whatfor?’ I remember exclaiming. He just shrugged. Apparantly he hadn’t a clue either. Well, that made two of us so I went to Gravius, hoping he would tell me more.

Halfway to Selles Gravius I got distracted by a hallway behind a sturdy looking wooden door that led to some sort of a basement where I found a variety of items. Some silverware, some bottles containing local booze, an iron dagger and a bag to put in the items I had “found”.
Ofcourse, only then I realised I still had to see that Gravius guy. He would notice me carrying a bag, suspiciously tingling with all sorts of gear a newly released prisoner shouldn’t have yet. I put the bag next to the table where I had found the dagger, checked my release form was still in my pocket and went to see Selles Gravius.

Gravius wasn’t much of a talker and looked like a formidable warrior. In fact; it made me wonder what in Sheogorath’s name he was doing here in this lousy office. When I asked him while handing him the form he almost bit off my head saying it was none of my busines and unpatiently snatched the release form from my hands. He glimpsed me over for a while with one eyebrow raised and ordered me to wait for a moment while he looked up some documents I was going to need. A few moments later he handed me a letter, some gold I quickly pocketed and a mysterious package for a certain Caius Cosades in Balmora, who-ever that may be. I figured I’d find out soon enough and didn’t ask any more questions.

Having been through that, - what I still consider a bureaucratical ordeal - as I went to retrieve my bag, I suddenly remembered there was a rainbarrel outside I hadn’t looked into. I had little gold and a dagger but no water, no food, no nothing so anything I could find would be useful and most of all; for free.
Turned out it only contained a ring with some engraving. Unfortunately I couldn’t make out what it was saying so I put it in my pocket, again wandered through the offices with an air like nothing was out of the ordinary, fetched the bag and made my way into Seyda Neen.
I was my own man again. I was free to go where I wanted.

***

My first steps outside were, well, quite frankly, disappointing. You’d expect a town with the main docks into Vvardenfell would be a big, prospering town. Suffice to say it wasn’t.
As a matter of fact, it was just the opposite. Most of the houses were run-down, shabby shacks, trading was limited to one tradinghouse and a swamp surrounded it so flies swarmed the town.
I won’t even mention the smell.

Still, I was in Morrowind, I could finally look up relatives I knew to still live here. My mother had told me plenty of stories of her and her cousin Athyn playing together. I couldn’t remember which town though, but from what I’ve been taught, the Sarethi family is well-known and shouldn’t be too hard to track down.

My sense of pride prevented me running off to find them right away, I could hardly arrive wearing nothing but the raggedy clothes, looking like a bum. I wanted to make a name for myself first. I wanted them to be proud to hail back a long-lost relative
For now, my pride would have to wait, I had more pressing matters, like finding somewhere to stay the night.

While looking around and - metaphorically speaking - sniffing up the atmosphere a Woodelf came upto me grinning child-like. The chap introduced himself as Fargoth and extended his hand which I grabbed. From moment one I knew I was going to like this friendly little fellow. Turned out he had been bullied and his family heirloom, a ring, had been taken from him. He told me it was magical and allowed the wearer to heal himself.

‘Would it have engraving, like this?’ I remember asking him while pulling the ring I had found in the barrel outside the office from my pocket and held it in front of his nose. Fargoth frantically shook his head and told me that was the one.
I was happy to give it back to him. Trinkets are easier to find than good friends and the gods know I could use some friends being a stranger in a strange land.
Singing happily he wandered off but not before he told me he was going to tell his friend Arrille a kind Darkelf had returned his ring to him and how happy he was to have it back.
I simply smiled.

My rumbling stomach made me aware that I needed to find something to eat as well. After some asking around I soon found out Arrille’s establishment was the only tradehouse around. If I wanted to survive any trip outside of town, I needed some sort of protection, I needed armour and a weapon and some supplies so I headed off to Arrille’s.

Politely the High Elf, Arille, greeted me and was quick to realize I must have been the stranger that had given Fargoth his ring back. He confirmed what I suspected, Fargoth was slightly retarded, he had the mind of a child and was almost chronically happy.

I removed the items from the bag I wanted to sell and displayed them on the counter in front of Arrille. We came to an agreement, he would gladly take all the items from my hands and I would buy the chitin cuirass, pauldrons and gauntlets, some food, a couple of useful spells and some scrolls. Even with those purchases I had more gold in my pocket than when I had entered the tradehouse. I had kept the dagger.
Then it hit me, I still didn’t have a real weapon, the iron dagger I had kept was hardly any more use than as a butterknife.
In the excitement I had forgotten to buy a real weapon. I double backed into Arrille’s and bought a chitin bow and some arrows.
Now I was set to face whatever was coming to me in the wild, or at least, that’s what I thought at that time.

I nibbled on a Kwama egg on a loaf of bread and adressed some inhabitants. Some locals mentioned Ergalla Socucius was looking for a missing tax collector, Processus Vitellius.
I wasn’t really feeling like heading back into the Census and Excise office, I had just left the damn thing, I decided to do some looking around myself. How hard would it be to find an Imperial tax collector?

Since it is always a good idea getting at least an idea where someone missing could hang out, I asked around for him. Ofcourse, blabbermouth Fargoth had heard rumours the Dunmer in the watchtower, Thavere Vedrano, was the only being able to stomach him. Apparantly, the guy was somewhat obnoxious. It was a start so I headed off to the lighthouse when in the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of something shiny – a weapon perhaps? – in a hollow stump. It cost me a pair of wet feet and trousers getting the item from the stump but it was well worth it. The enchanted axe would get me quite some gold, I never cared for axes, they are too heavy and too encumbring, so I intended on selling it but it would have to wait until I solved this mystery.

[Remko]

@Fiach: glad you like it!
@Zalphon, so this is where you buggered off to? Good to see you again m8!

Don't want to spam but I guess I can post another part.


Thavere was really pleasant to talk with. She had a quick understanding and told me Processus had confided in her telling the other day he had an argument with one of the locals; Foryn Gilnith. The guards had been able to interfere between the two in time or it might have ended up really ugly.
According to her they had argued about Foryn claiming Processus increased the taxes so he could skim some of it into his pockets without his superiors noticing. Obviously Processus Vitellius had denied the outrageous claims. I wisely kept my mouth shut about how I thought about such an “outrageous claim”. I had lived most of my, sofar, short life between Imperials and as such knew money was usually a big drive for them. Of course, there was the chance of him being different. Yeah right. And maybe minotaurs would fly.

I continued asking her if it was likely he had made other enemies or maybe he had just moved on into the next town. She smartly commented that in his line of work it was impossible to avoid making enemies so that was very likely. He wouldn’t have moved on to another place, she was sure he would’ve mentioned it.
I politely thanked her for her time and for the drink and continued my search outside.

If it had been a local and, judging by the name, a Dunmer he almost got into a fight with, it wasn’t unlikely for Processus to have run into an “accident” that would’ve got him killed – Dunmer are reknowned for being short-tempered, especially if it concerns an “Outlander” - so I started looking around the area if I could come up with his body or at least some sort of trace of where he had vanished to.

As I was wandering around in the area of Seyda Neen, I picked countless samples of the local flora. Never thinking about the consequences I dropped all the ingredients in the bag I was hauling around. When I was a child I’ve always found it very exciting seeing my mother brew mysteriously and curiously smelling concoctions so naturally I had to dabble with alchemy as well. Not that I had any experience with that before but I’ll get back on that later.

The gathering of plants almost made me lose track of what I initially set out to do – find the missing tax officer. After trotting around for hours through swamps I still hadn’t managed to turn up any trace of him and was starting to doubt I ever would when I heard a scream that nearly turned my blood to icicles. Certainly, this meant some menacing predator had sniffed me out and would make dinner out of me. I drew my bow, prepared an arrow – I was going to protect my precious hide with whatever means - and frantically started looking around for cover or for whatever had made the sound, when suddenly the scream ended with a resounding thud several passes behind me.

A Bosmer had fallen from the sky, trying to revive him proved pointless – blood was dripping from his nostrils and ears – I understood the poor bugger had died on impact.
Using the axe as a shovel I dug him a grave, took some of his gear, he wouldn’t be needing it anymore anyway, and rather unceremonally – what did you expect? I didn’t even know the guy – dropped him in the hole and closed it. At least predators and other vile creatures wouldn’t get to him.

It seemed miracles come in pairs. Not only acquired I a really nice robe, the bloodstains would wash away soon enough, a useful enchanted sword and some convenient and some not so convenient scrolls – thanks to the fallen Bosmer Tarhiel. I learned from the journal I found on him that was his name, as well as that he had been experimenting with what he called scrolls of Icarian Flight – I also found the body of the missing tax officer nearby.
He hadn’t been dead that long yet, the body wasn’t really stiff yet and most of his fingers were still attached. Some had been gnawed off by, well I didn’t really know and I didn’t really wanted to stay to find out either.

What I did find out was that he had most definitely been killed. He had been stabbed in the back several times and, I assume to make sure he was really dead, his throat was slit as well. The body had been dragged to this spot, the distinct lack of blood was evidence he hadn’t died where he laid. The trail led towards Seyda Neen, it would appear a local had indeed murdered Vitellius.

Searching the body led nowhere. No evidence, nothing. I followed the only thing I could do; the trail and find out where it ended. Dissapointingly, the trail ended not far from where I had found the victim’s body. I had no other choice, I was going to have to talk to every single inhabitant and find out what they know. Disappointed, I headed back into town to clean myself up.

This post has been edited by Remko: Mar 19 2010, 12:22 PM