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]

@SubRosa: Yeah, I figured I'd just hint at it and leave the rest open for imagination. Treading into details is hard without making it vulgar. You get away with it somehow (credit to your skill!) but then again, you're a sensitive woman
@mALX1: Yep, do you think this would be the appropriate time to launch her background as well?

I made small change to the next chapter, something I wanted to put in initially but forgot. I got the chance to rectify that here. I felt that although the explanation of the tight confines was some explanation why Rales previaled over five enemies was alright but inadequate. I elaborated. I hope you agree and like it.


Day 99

The first thing I did when I arrived in Balmora was to proceed to the scene of the crime, Hlaalo manor in the north-west of town, nearby the White Haven alchemy shop. Unfortunately, the door into the manor was locked. Breaking into a house in broad day light wasn’t the best course of action – especially considering the area was crawling with Hlaalu guards – so I started asking around if anyone had heard anything.

Most ignored me, some said they didn’t even know Ralen. I found that rather hard to believe, some had been standing next to his house while stating that. To me it felt like the crime was being covered up. Apparantly, I had to dig deeper to get to the bottom of this. Soon, I had asked practically every citizen in Balmora. It wasn’t until I asked Caius about it that I was starting to get somewhere. The Spymaster pointed out there was only one organisation capable of such a major scale cover-up, the Camonna Tong.
‘I thought you told me the Camonna Tong are on the Hlaalu payroll? Why would they murder one of their beneficiaries?’
Caius shrugged. ‘Beats me. You could try with the Thieves’ Guild. The Tong and the Thieves’ Guild have been in a blood-feud for years. Most of the members will be in the South Wall Cornerclub. Just be careful Rales! The Camonna Tong are a ruthless bunch.’
Just before I left, Caius suddenly remembered an old friend of his, Larrius Varro, was looking for me. I could find him in the nearby Legion fort, fort Moonmoth.

The South Wall Cornerclub was nearby Caius’ house so it didn’t take me long to find it. A Khajiit called Sugar-Lips Habasi greeted me. After having introduced myself I came straight to business and asked her if there was anything she knew about the murder of Ralen Hlaalo and about the Camonna Tong. As soon as I brought up the Tong, Sugar-Lips refused to answer more questions. It seemed I was getting close but no further either.
It was the same with every one else I asked about it. When I brought up the Tong, everyone acutely lost their tongue. An Argonian had mentioned “bad people” before he realised he had said too much.
Putting one and one together, bad people could only refer to the Camonna Tong.
I had found a suspect, now I needed proof.

Later that day, well after dark, I returned to the Hlaalo manor, waited for the few guards - who were still patrolling the area - to be out of sight and picked the lock.
The victim was lying on his face in a huge pool of his own blood. A familiar looking wound – you can hardly mistake the awful wounds axes make for anything else – covered most of his back. He had not just been murdered, he had been struck down cowardly from behind. Disgusted I looked around for clues. I could tell it hadn’t been a professional job, red foot prints led from the victim to the door. I couldn’t imagine a professional assassin would have stamped through his victim’s blood, leaving such an obvious trail.

Upon inspection, I noticed something weird with the trail, the prints of the right shoe showed a discrepency compared to the prints from the left shoe. It seemed as though there was a part missing from the sole from the right shoe. All I needed to do was to find the footwear that had the same strange flaw and I had found the killer.
How I was going to pull of that feat was a different story. It wasn’t like I could ask every single person in Balmora to show me the sole of their right shoe.

***

Instead of simply following that single clue, I continued searching the house for more.
The only additional clue I found confirmed my suspicion about it not having been a professional hit. I actually found a witness, Ralen Hlaalo’s servant had seen everything through the keyhole of her door. She told me she had seen a red-headed Dunmer with a very peculiar hairdo and a huge axe. Unfortunately, she hadn’t seen his face but at least now I had some descriptions I could follow. For a brief moment I wondered why she hadn't done anything but then again; what could a frail old woman have done except getting killed herself?
How many red-head Dunmer men with a very peculiar hairdo could there be? I was considering paying a visit to the Council-Club the next day to see if my suspect hung out there. I had to start somewhere. Why not at the most likely place for my suspect to be?

Day 100

Finding a suspect is one thing; confronting a suspected murderer who is presumed innocent until proven otherwise is something else. Especially when the suspect is an aggressive Camonna Tong member. How was I going to subtly interrogate him while not directly making accusations?
Let me start at the beginning: as soon as I walked into the Council Club top floor entrance a Dunmer exactly fitting the description was banging away at some armour with a hammer. Apparantly Thanelen Valas was a smith. That would certainly explain how he was able to handle the gigantic axe strapped to his back. Until now, the only ones I’ve seen being able to, were Nords and Orcs, not a relatively - compared to Orcs and Nords - small Dunmer, even though he was huge for one.
Instead of being blunt I decided to show interest in his profession and admire his handywork. I even bought a dagger from him to get in his good grace. I, on purpose, overpayed Valas for it.

After some small talk, about politics and such, I asked him what he knew about Ralen Hlaalo’s murder. Surprisingly, he said he had heard about it and that Nine Toes, a local Argonian - one I knew to be a fellow Blade - had done it. I couldn’t believe it. He actually denied being the murderer. I couldn’t be blowing Nine Toes’ cover by saying I knew for a fact he wasn’t the murderer and how I knew that. Even if I hadn’t known him, Argonians weren’t very likely to be mistaken for a Dunmer - unless you’re blind as a bat.
My patience had run out. ‘You’re a liar,’ I blurted out. ‘There was a witness to the murder. You are the only one in whole Balmora fitting the descriptions the witness gave.’
‘Alright, I killed him!’ he growled. ‘So what? People get killed all the time.’
‘Not if I can help it,’ I retorted.

He made an insult directed to my mother, I refuse to repeat, and drew his axe. I think he should’ve stayed at his smithy. He was useless as a warrior. Sure, his hands were as big as spades and he swung his axe like it was a feather – albeit a heavy one – he wouldn’t have been able to hit a Stiltstrider if it had been in front of his nose. I couldn’t resist taunting him. ‘A lot harder to kill someone when he’s fighting back isn’t it?’ I growled in contempt.
He wasn’t able to form decent words in between his panting. I soon had enough of this facade and made a move he never saw coming. With a resounding thud his severed head dropped on the wooden floor. Bloody justice but justice none-the-less.
His right shoe’s sole had the exact pattern cut out I had seen in the bloody trail in the Hlaalo manor. The only two regrets I had were that I hadn’t been able to extract his motives and having bought the dagger from him. What a useless piece of scrapmetal that was!

***

A second chance to learn of his motive arose soon. His friends downstairs had heard the unmistakable sounds of combat. Two of them came upstairs to see what it was all about.
They asked me what the reason was their friend had lost his head. I explained the situation. Strangely enough, they completely understood. They even revealed to me it had been about a petty squable concerning a payment the Hlaalu noble had refused to make. Valas hadn’t been much of a smith either, Ralen Hlaalo had refused to pay because the repairs were far below standard.
After having explained the circumstances of the murder, they said that even though it was perfectly understandable I had killed Valas, they couldn’t allow some Outlander to get away with killing their friend – a Camonna Tong member.

The consequential battle drew in two more Camonna Tong members from downstairs. After I was done basically tearing them apart, five maimed bodies and several body parts were strewn around the club, its walls painted red with their blood. They hadn’t posed a much bigger threat to me than Valas alone had posed - as a matter of fact; the fights had been fairly easy because we had been inside a building with narrow corridors. Had we been fighting outside they would’ve been able to surround me and I wouldn’t have stood a chance. All the swordtraining in my youth payed off there. I was used to fighting right-handed swordsmen. Most right-handed swordsmen don't know how to handle rare left-handed swordsmen, like me. Then, there was the fact that they were dumb enough attacking an enemy higher than them. Any tactician will tell you: 'Be extra careful when attacking an enemy above you.' Another lesson they hadn't been taught. The Council Club ended up without customers of the criminal kind.
A turn for the better in my, slightly prejudiced, opinion.

Ralen’s servant, Uryne Nirith, had entrusted me with the knowledge the other Hlaalu nobles offered a reward for finding the murderer and bringing him or her to justice when I went to inform her she needn’t be afraid of the murderer anymore. I assured her he wouldn’t come back to get rid of loose ends.

Finding the local Hlaalu noble was easy for a change. The council manor was right across the street. The noble I needed to speak to receive the reward, Nileno Dorvayn, was thankful I had solved the most foul murder and had put the murderer to justice. She was puzzled why someone not belonging to the same great house would go through so much trouble. I explained I had a problem with people getting killed for no good reason. (I wondered what a good reason would be, except self-defense, to kill someone anyway)

The reward was a thousand gold Drakes but I offered Nileno an alternative.
Ralen Hlaalo wouldn’t be needing his house anymore and I could do with a roof over my head. I suggested she’d keep the reward. Instead, I asked her to allow me renting or buying the house. I promised I’d get the place cleaned up and keep the servant employed. She could use the reward for a decent burial for the victim.
Nileno acted as though she had to give my proposition some thought but her eyes betrayed her true emotions. I could clearly see the thought not having to give me the reward appealed to her. After some – obviously faked – consideration she agreed on letting me rent the place. Selling a Hlaalu house to a Redoran wouldn’t be appropriate she said but making a profit is something the Hlaalu always strive for. We agreed on a rent of five hundred gold Drakes per month, six months to be payed in advance. It was a lot of gold to hand over at once but I could easily afford it.

This post has been edited by Remko: Apr 6 2010, 11:52 AM