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]

I always had a feel for foreign languages. Besides that, I had English on school from when I was 13 so it isn't really a surprise I'm quite capable of writing in English.

@Destri: I made some minor changes that shouldn't have made a big impact. Some inconsistancies I overlooked (like usage of spells and shields) and some spelling. (like the first 'l' I missed several times in Hlaalo/Hlaalu) Glad it's amusing enough to warrant a second read-through. Thank you!


Chapter 10: Vivec

Day 118

Before going to bed, Zerina and I discussed the mission to Vivec the following day. Going alone and leaving Zerina for days in a row didn’t appeal to me at all. In fact; the thought alone almost made me feel queasy to my stomach. We decided to walk to Vivec rather than taking a Stiltstrider or a guild guide. That way, I could teach her some basic combat skills and meanwhile show her the lush, green Ascadian Isles region. And then there was the bonus of being able to spend lots of time together – something we both really appreciated..

Zerina only knew Vvardenfell as a desolate ashen wasteland. She was delighted to see the green hills roll on one after the other and huge pastures with Guar grazing.
Since we had hugely overslept the first morning, we made camp not long after we passed Seyda Neen. We dropped in briefly for some supplies with Arrille and an additional sleeping bag. Arrille insisted that we stayed for coffee. Fargoth couldn’t keep his eyes away from Zerina.

After having pitched the tent, we got to sorting out some dinner. Zerina insisted to go hunting. Briefly I instructed her on the use of a bow but to my surprise, she was almost as capable with a bow as I was. She couldn’t pull full tension on my long-bow but a light Chitin short-bow I had brought along as well was perfectly suitable for her frail frame. She was far more able fending for herself than I would have given her credit for.
Smiling, I let her go hunting while I made a cooking hole in the earth.
With not having much else to do, I let my mind wander back over the last few weeks and wondered if Zerina had maybe feigned her hysteria when we went swimming several days ago. I realised there was still so much I didn’t know about her.

Imagine my surprise when she returned to camp without a prey.
‘I couldn’t carry it, I need your help,’ she excused herself. ‘It’s just over that ridge,’ and pointed south. A small walk later, a fully grown adult Alit with a single arrow through its throat was awaiting our attention. I grabbed its legs, tied a rope around it and dragged the creature back to camp where we skinned it, cut it up in pieces and cooked it. Throughout the gruesome job, Zerina didn’t flinch once. In my admiration and adoration of her I ignored a crucial point: she had been taking care of such things together with her mother long before I even knew her. I was getting more and more certain her hysteria had indeed been an act.

Over dinner I decided to ask her about it. Smiling innocently, she replied:’I was naked. Besides, how else was I going to get your attention away from that book?’
I blinked, not knowing what to say and burst out in laughter. ‘Women,’ I sighed, bringing a mischievous smile to Zerina’s face.
That night, the second sleeping bag proved unnecessary, we shared one, it was rather cramped. But then again, we didn’t sleep. Much.

Day 119

Making up for the lost time from the day before, we got up early and had a simple breakfast. In hindsight, we might as well have slept in because we didn’t get very far that day anyway. Being mid-summer, a blistering sun high in the sky, accompanied us so we stopped several times a day for a brief swim in the clear blue rivers as well as in small to medium sized lakes we came across and cuddled often in the soft, tall grass. Our love was a roaring fire I was more than willing to burn myself on – it still is.

Several days later, by the end of the day, we reached the shores of the huge lake Vivec was built in. Cantons stretched as far as the eye could see. I had thought Balmora was big but Vivec truly dwarfed it. Guards were patrolling the various levels of all the cantons. Just the sheer amount of guards alone gave me an impression on how mindboggling many people would be living there. I couldn’t wait to enter Vivec. Zerina’s eyes were shining mirrors of my own eager anticipation.

Grinning like an idiot, I took Zerina’s hand. Together we walked across the bridge leading to what was known as the Foreign Quarter. Zerina looked at me with , what I had got to know as her mischievous smile and joked I should remain here with the other outlanders while she would explore the city. I reprimanded her by giving her a playful slap on her behind and chased her when she ran off laughing.

We realised soon that we would need to prepare for a several-day mission so we needed a place to spend the night. We were informed there were three taverns throughout the city that provided rooms to weary travellers. In the Foreign Quarter was the “Black Shalk Cornerclub”, actually just around the corner, an Ordinator – a holy guard - enlightened us.
Then; there was the “Lizard’s Head” in the Telvanni canton and last; “The Flowers of Gold” inn, located in the Redoran canton.
I had business with a certain Argonian in the “Black Shalk” but since it was already quite late, we decided to get ourselves installed into an inn first. A gondola took us to the Redoran canton with a small touristical de-tour and after some inquiring, we soon arrived at “The Flowers of Gold” inn. I was glad we had chosen this inn rather than the ropey club in the Foreign Quarter.

The room we rented wasn’t cheap but it was worth every gold Drake. The bed was hardly smaller than the one we had at home, the matrass soft and the sheets were spotless.

We booked the room for four nights, I was sure we would find ways to amuse ourselves in case I was going to be done sooner with my mission than anticipated. Zerina had already noticed there were lots of shops selling jewelry and clothing that were only available in the holy city of the living God – Vivec.
At least; she wouldn’t get bored while I looked up my contacts. Something I wasn’t really looking forward to.

Day 123

For a change, Zerina was already up and gone when I woke up. A note, carrying her scent, on the pillow said that she had gone shopping and that she hoped I could make it for dinner.
The first one I was was going to look up was the Argonian. Relying on the intel I had gotten from Caius, I headed straight for the “Black Shalk”.
The moment I walked into the club I could see Huleeya was in what you might call a tight spot. Three angry Dunmer were looking at him with the unmistakeble fire of pure hatred burning in their eyes. Throughout my travels I had encountered several cases of unfounded hatred towards the beast-races but none as severe as with these guys. If looks could kill, Huleeya would have been a smouldering pile of ash at their feet.

‘Blending in is part of being a succesful spy,’ Caius had told me. ‘Act as though you belong where you are, better yet; believe that you do.’ What better way to blend in at a bar, than by ordering a drink? Who said you can’t mix pleasure with business?
After having ordered a drink, I discretely asked him about it and whether or not he needed help, he shook his head and said they were hardly more than pests but annoying pests none-the-less. He was confident that they couldn’t hurt him. Rather; it was the exact opposite. The Argonian was afraid they would attack if he would turn his back and leave the inn, forcing him into hurting them. If I’d join him to his friend’s bookstore, the chance of the three of them attacking the two of us would be negligible. Surely, they wouldn’t be that stupid, especially with you wearing that?' he said while winking and briefly redirected his gaze on Wretched. His perception and reason were undeniably sound. The way he moved told me his self-confidence wasn’t misplaced at all; he moved with the grace of an experienced martial-artist. Not a muscle or limb flexed more or less than absolutely necessary.

The walk to Jobasha’s rare bookstore was short and un-eventful. The bookstore was across the hallway on the other side of the Foreign Quarter Lower Waistworks. Huleeya was grateful for my assistence and taught me all he knew all about Ashlanders and the Nerevarine Cult. When he was finished, he gave me his notes, summarizing what he had just discussed, to hand over to Caius.
As a side-note, he advised me talk to Jobasha, he might have some books about the same subject for sale I might find interesting.
A good shop-keeper knows exactly what he has for sale. Jobasha was an outstanding shop-keeper.

Jobasha first said he had no idea what I was talking about, mentioning Huleeya had told me he might have useful books about the Nerevarine Cult in his shop's inventory helped a lot. After a lot of persuasion and assurance I wasn't a Temple Agent (It was sort of the truth, I was only a Layman), finally he sold me an illegal book called “The progress of truth”.
When I briefly flipped some pages and read some short passages, I could see why the Temple wasn't happy with its existance.
Two worrying words were ominously prominent:"Dissident Priests" I wondered what it meant.
‘It’s officially been banned by the Temple so don’t go waving it around or tell anyone who sold it to you, alright?’
Huleeya warned me that if anything happened to Jobasha, he'd take it out on me.
I believed him.

Next on my list was the priestess Mehra Milo in the Halls of Wisdom. The Khajiit was going to be last. I knew from experience – from playing hide and seek when I was still a kid – that if a Khajiit doesn’t want to be found, you would have a hard, if not impossible, task finding her.
Since I was a member of the Temple I didn’t need to make up some false pretence for being there and entered the Halls of Wisdom inconspiciously by late afternoon.
So far, the mission itself was easy; it was getting to the right location that was the time-consuming part. I had wandered for hours through the various cantons and lost my way several times, so entering the Halls of Wisdom was a big relief; finally I had reached my destination. Now all that was left was finding the right priestess among all the others.

Secrecy wasn’t really asked for. As I mentioned earlier, I had every reason for being where I was. Several people hadn’t a clue where I could find Mehra.
It took six or seven inquiries with various people before I finally learned that she would most likely be in the library, which was down the hall on the righthand-side.
I was just about to give up asking and just barge into all the rooms out of frustration.
Following the precise directions I had received, it was a matter of mere minutes until I had found the library where only one priestess among many priests was present.

This time, I took my role as an Imperial Spy more serious. Directly asking her about legends and obscurities that were highly frowned upon and regarded with disdain by the Tribunal Temple seemed rather unwise. In stead, I engaged a discussion with her by asking about the pilgrimage I still hadn’t fulfilled – that was the thing I had forgotten; the pilgrimage to the shrines in and around Gnisis, I suddenly realised. Gladly she told me all about them. Where to find the shrines and what to donate. All this information could also be found in the “The Pilgrim’s path.” I faked a cough to hide I almost burst out in laughter because of the irony in that.