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]

Thanks everyone! I don't consider myself a comedy writer like Rachel (the Breton) or Helena but I have my moments.
Pleased to announce this is the chapter before he meets Zerina.


The temple hailed me with open arms. Too few were joining the temple nowadays the priests said. Rumours of the failing of the Tribunal were becoming more prevelant. It was said it was their fault the Blight was claiming more and more victims every day.
Their power was obviously waning, people were losing faith in them and turned to the Imperial cult instead.

The situation suited me just fine. All I had to do to become a member was make a pilgimage to seven Tribunal shrines scattered all around Vvardenfell. I was given the book “The Pilgrim’s path” to help me on my way which I stuck in my bag and didn’t bother looking into untill I really needed it.

The first pilgrimage was easy; The Fields of Kummu shrine was due east from Balmora.
On my way there I encountered a kind old lady who had lost her way going there as well. Together we continued and reached the shrine without serious trouble. Nothing I couldn’t handle anyway.
Nevrasa wanted to give me some gold for escorting her. Initially I declined but she insisted so I promised her to donate it to the temple. A smile on her face told me I couldn’t have made her happier.

After having donated a piece of muck to the shrine - I wouldn’t have known I had to if Nevrasa hadn’t told me - I felt a weird, elevating sensation. Everything I was carrying felt lighter. The first part of my initiation into the Temple was complete. One down, six to go.

The next two shrines were easy to reach; they were both located in Vivec. I took the Stiltstrider to Vivec, then took a gondola to the Temple where the first of my two destinations was. I was glad I was handed the book. Otherwise I would’ve never guessed I needed to donate a potion of rising force to receive a blessing. Not that I had one with me; a home-made potion wouldn’t do. I needed to buy one from the Temple. Now I understand why everyone wanting to join the temple needs to go through the pilgrimages. The Temple probably makes a decent income from selling these potions.

I flew to my next destination, - after having donated a potion of rising force to the shrine I was blessed with a long-lasting levitation spell - the palace of Vicec.
Outside the temple I quickly found the Grace of Generosity shrine and donated some gold to receive a blessing. Pay to pray I guess.

On the pilgrimages I had plenty time to think over what had happened to me the last few weeks. I had been pulled into Blades and I dove headlong into becoming an Imperial legion but so far had neglected my order to investigate the murder of Zabdas. Maybe now was a good time to follow up on these.
I had learned two shrines were nearby Gnisis; I could kill two birds with one stone. Settling the business with the murderous Orc Legionnaire and getting two more pilgrimages out of the way.

Day 68

They day I arrived in Gnisis by stiltstrider an awful storm was blowing. Most people had sought shelter in local inns or inside their homes. It almost appeared to be a ghost-town.
Again, I took the trail upwards to the egg-mine and made my way inside.
Remembering the General wanted me to find out why Lugrub had so brutally murdered the miner Zabdas, I started with talking to the miners to try to find out what they had seen or maybe had heard.

Most were still refusing to talk to me. Either they were oblivious to what had happened or just wanted to stay out of the whole deal. Or more commonly said: they were covering their own precious hides.
This wasn’t working at all, I needed another approach. Rather than investigating as a Legionnaire, I took off my armour and dressed down as a regular Dunmer. If Darius would see me I’d probably get in trouble but they way I saw it, I had no choice. If I wanted to find out the motive I would have to act sympathetic to the harsh circumstances the miners were working in.

My new approach reaped its reward. Soon, I found out most miners were scared out of their wits of Lugrub. Apparantly he acted far different than as the honourable Legionnaire Darius knew him to be. One miner let slip that Vabdas had been the only one brave enough to voice his dismay about the miners having to work their butts off in the dangerous mines while the guards do nothing to make it easier on them, which was their - our - job. According to the loose-lipped miner, Vabdas had gotten in a serious argument with Lugrub where Vabdas had threatened to take his complaints to the General just before his unfortunate accident.

In the light of this new evidence, it was convincing enough, I was sure Darius couldn’t allow this to stand in his precious Legion. I knew what was next. I was going to have to confront the Orc about his mis-behaviour. There was no doubt in my mind about the truthfulness of the miner’s story. I had been confronted with the Orc’s hideous behaviour myself weeks earlier and really doubted he would’ve changed his attitude in so little time.

At least, I didn’t have to look for him, I knew exactly where to find my soon to be ex-collegue, Lugrug gro-Ogdum.
I made my way deeper into the mine and changed into my armour. I didn’t don my usual robe to make it very clear I was on official Legion business. After having checked my weapons - the ebony blade was as sharp as ever, it appeared it never needed sharpening - I opened the door and hollered: ’Lugrub, time to face justice! General Darius has ordered you to put down your weapons and surrender!’

‘I’m never surrendering to a whelp like you,’ he barked while running in my direction with a menacing grin on his ugly green face and his axe raised high above his head.
I swallowed hard. An Orc coming at you swinging his huge axe is a very intimidating sight, I wasn’t unsensitive to his posture at all. I didn’t intend on under-estimating him. That would have been a deadly mistake on my side. I readied my sword and braced for impact.

The fight was long, hard and sweaty. I kept darting away from the swing of his axe as soon as I recognised it and blocked the blows I couldn’t get away from. Every hit I blocked send a spur of pain throughout my entire body.
Sweat was pouring down my neck, across my arms and straight into my handpalms. The feel on my sword wasn’t what I was used to and a sensation – fear – made me feel most uneasy. I had to change the course of this fight or it would end with a very bloody - and very dead - Dunmer on the ground.

Swing after swing crashed into the rocks underneath our boots, barely missing me. It was getting harder to dodge his swings, I was getting tired. I had hoped swinging the heavy weapon would fatigue the Orc before I was fatigued by dodging it but I had been wrong. The Orc had a strength and stamina unsurpassed. A frightening thought rattled my existence- I was going to lose this battle if I didn’t act fast.
I jumped out of the way of another swing of the axe and jabbed my sword to where I had been a split second ago. The blade cut deep into the Orc’s left arm but he didn’t as much as flinch even though blood was pouring out of the wound staining his bracers crimson.

Then, I made a mistake. For a brief moment I blinked the sweat from my eyes and was too late dodging the flat of the axe aiming towards my head. All I saw was a flash and then everything went black. It could’ve been a second, it could’ve been an hour, I don’t remember. What I do remember was a load of screams from behind the Orc just before I was hit and went unconscious.

When I came around, the proud warrior was reduced to a pile of green and red all-over with several miners standing around him with all sorts of sharp objects; pick-axes, chisels, anything they could their hands on. I guess they finally had found the courage to stand up to the lazy guard who had killed one of them and to save the man who had defended their rights and the honour of their murdered collegue.
He had been maimed to the point of being unrecognisable. I turned and retched up my stomach’s contents. My head was still ringing with the blow and I had severe difficulty focusing. Suddenly I felt my knees getting weak and I collapsed into a helpless heap on the ground.

This post has been edited by Remko: Apr 1 2010, 11:13 AM