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]

Arille’s trading house was not just a place to buy and sell, for some gold he also rented out rooms. I had dinner at Arille’s and rented a room for the night.
As it was still quite early I spend the remainder of the evening exploring some more of the area around Seyda Neen. I remember being horrified when a rock I momentarily sat on to catch my breath grew a pair of vicious pincers, legs and a head.
The foul creature pinched my left thigh, I cut off its legs and pincers. Fair deal I’d say.

The meat I scraped out of its shell - the dagger came in handy, I was glad I had kept it - was brown and felt slimey to the touch.
Still, if I was to survive in the wild I figured I’d best stop being too picky and decided to taste it. I’m glad I did, it tasted wonderful! It would be no problem for me to live on crabmeat for several days. I was in the area anyway so I practised my bow- and sword skills on any crab I encountered with extreme prejudice and stocked up on crabmeat.

Day 2

The next morning I had breakfast and set out to do what I had started the previous day; find the tax collector’s murderer. I had a lead but thought it wise to investigate some more before blaming anyone. I wanted to make sure I was going to confront the correct person.
Everyone said the same thing; all the locals pointed towards Foryn Gilnith. Some had even witnessed the quarrel between Foryn and Processus. There was no one else I could ask, I had asked every single inhabitant, except one. Foryn himself.
I gathered all my courage and headed to Foryn’s shack and knocked. I didn’t get an answer so he was either asleep or out.

Foryn didn’t have many friends, when I inquired on his likely where-abouts no-one knew.
There was the option of breaking into his shack and look for evidence. I was sure the local guards wouldn’t approve. Unless, they didn’t know or see. I needed to slip into the shack while the guards weren’t looking and I was certain the owner wasn’t home.
Then, I had an idea. I needed a distraction.

‘How would you like to earn some gold?’ I asked Fargoth. He scratched his head and said he would be glad to help a friend.
‘What do you want me to do?’
‘I need you to raise hell just after dark.’ His face told me he hadn’t a clue what I meant with that. Suppressing a sigh I explained it as I would to a child.
‘Look, just start shouting and make the guards come your way. I don’t know, maybe act as like you were just robbed.’
A sparkle of understanding appeared in his mischievous eyes and a smug grin curled his lips.
‘Don’t worry, even the guards in Vivec will hear me,’ he assured me.
‘That will do just fine.’

That night, Seyda Neen was in an uproar. True to his word, Fargoth started his act just after dark. The guards were quick to respond and all converged to the panic point, giving me the opportune moment to slip into Foryn’s shack. And if he turned out to be home, I would act drunk and had accidently stumbled into the wrong house.
It was a bit thin; if Foryn knew I didn’t even have a house, he would see through it right away. I just hoped luck was on my side and that he hadn’t returned yet and entered the shack.

Lady luck was on my side, Foryn wasn’t at home. Quickly, not wasting any time, I rummaged through his cupboard, the crates, through anything that could hide evidence.
All I found in a corner underneath some clothes was a dagger with traces of blood on it and a bloody rag.
‘Why go through the problem of wiping the blade clean and then leave the rag next to the blade?’ I surmised. ‘Doesn’t make sense.’ It almost looked like he was being framed. And then there was the possibility Foryn was just really sloppy, dumb or both.

Truth is; I just didn’t know what to think anymore. On one hand, he was the likely suspect. There had been witnesses to Foryn and Processus nearly getting in a fist-fight. On the other hand; there was the conveniently placed evidence in his shack. Too conveniently.

I made sure everything was like I found it, except the evidence, I took that with me.
Then, Foryn entered. He wasn’t happy to see me in his shack and told me to get out.
I did as I planned, I acted drunk and mumbled the lousy excuse I had thought of before but then realized the predicament I had gotten myself into.
‘What if it was his dagger?’ I thought. If it was, he would soon miss it and know right away it had been me who had taken it. All in all, I felt I had made a mess out of it the whole situation.

I left the shack and thought what I should do next. Should I confront Foryn with the evidence, risking accusing an innocent man?
I decided to come clean with Foryn, I went back into his shack and explained the situation.

He didn’t even deny the accusations. Instead; he bragged about how he had stabbed that thieving Imperial son of a Mudcrab. When I asked him what he meant with that he said the same Thavere had told me; he believed Processus had raised the taxes so he could take some for himself. I shook my head and said that wasn’t a reason to kill him.
‘So you’re on their side? Then you’re my enemy,’ he roared. Before I could even defend myself, he attacked me. With his bare fists. I tried to convince him to give himself up, there was no need to get killed over it, he just got angrier and angrier. I had no choice but to defend myself and cut him down. It was either him or me. What was he thinking? Attacking someone armoured and armed with a sword? I guess my previous assessment was right; Foryn was stupid and sloppy.

Anyway; after the short, really, really short, “fight” I found plenty evidence on his body.
I found a ring Thavere had described as being Processus’, a taxrecord and tow hundred Drakes. Combined with the dagger and the bloody rag, there could be no doubt; Foryn had killed Processus and had made it look like he was plainly robbed.

Ergalla wasn’t happy with the news but was relieved the mystery had been solved and rewarded me with five hundred drakes. I was dumbstruck. Five hundred drakes, that was more gold I had ever seen in one place and now, I was carrying it. I felt really good about myself and decided to spend some. I headed to Arrille’s, had a king’s meal, bought some more supplies and a mortar and pestle he had for sale. Finally I could do something with the samples I had gathered the previous day. The problem was, I hadn’t a clue where to start. I needed a place where I could practise undisturbed. Then it hit me; I could use Foryn’s shack. At least for a while.

I cleared out all of Foryn’s stuff and dug another grave. It all reminded on his foolish actions and mine resulting in having to end his life. It didn’t really help to wipe the guilty feeling but at least I had some space to store my own goods I had acquired. For a while, I just laid in the hammock contemplating what I should do next but mostly doing nothing at all.
Few hours later I got off my lazy butt and tried out my newest acquisition, the mortar and pestle.
I dug up all the samples, which were all clogged together, seperated the most identifiable from the mess and started grinding them into a pulp. Did I say identifiable? What I meant was: the ingredients that weren’t completely un-identifiable. Not that I had idea what those were anymore but that hardly spoiled the fun.
After some mashing and grinding I did what I saw my mother do all those years ago, I added water to the brown, goowy substance, poured it into an empty bottle and drank it.

edit: a crab is hardly a honoured user

This post has been edited by Remko: Mar 19 2010, 12:35 PM