The Tale of Sudhendra Vahl: Part 3 Options

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Yestere had been extremely profitable for me, as I had pretty much spent the day practising various spells, summoning, and combat techniques, not to mention a little alchemy. While there was no chance I was ever going to be partaking of the three greasy and foul-smelling concoctions I’d produced as a result of my experiments ~ the other training had been extremely beneficial albeit tiring. So, it was with more than a little impatience that I responded to the hammering on the front door that awoke me this morning. I was just about to address the young individual with the appropriate venom when he thrust a parchment into my hand, saying, “Muthsera Hleran sends her compliments.”

The note was brief and to the point:

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“The first stage of your stronghold is complete. Please contact me at your convenience to discuss further development.”

Even though I knew that, at this stage, my stronghold wouldn’t be inhabitable, it was excellent news indeed. Dressing quickly, I spoke the words of the translocation spell and found myself in Sadrith Mora. Making my way into the oddly lit cavern, I listened to what Llunela had to say to me.

“I’m glad you came Muthsera Vahl,” she said. “The initial phase of growth is now complete. However, your tower still needs to grow more and it will need to be shaped. Traditionally, a skilled Tekton does this but, regrettably, the current expansion on the mainland means that they are all very busy there. We could leave the tower to grow wild ~ which rarely results in anything useable.

“But, when traditional means are unavailable, we have to make do with something else. It is said that the Dwemer had an artefact that could shape materials using sound. The book I read, by an Imperial named Hevou Thath, said that he’d seen designs for one such artefact in the Dwemer ruins of Mzanchend. I need you to travel there and locate these drawings, if they’re still there.”

Conveniently enough, the ruins I need are quite close to Uvirith’s Grave: so travelling there was my first priority. I followed pretty much the same route as before and soon came to the twisted knot of roots and branches that would form the basis of my tower. They had grown considerably since the last time, now being something like twice the height of a Mer. The environs, unfortunately, hadn’t improved any: the dust still lay thick on the ground and blew up in choking clouds at the slightest breeze. There was one change, however: and not a pleasant one. At the edge of the raised area of land upon which stood the hillock my tower was growing on was a campfire. Advancing cautiously, I made my way towards it.

“Greetings,” the armoured woman standing by the fire said, “what brings you to this gods forsaken plot of land?”

“This land is mine,” I replied somewhat sharply, “as is yonder tower. What brings you to my property?”

“Ahh well,” she said, raising the visor of her steel helm and looking at me. “Firstly, my apologies for any offence Telvanni. I have a tendency to speak jocularly when, maybe, I shouldn’t. As to what I am doing here, it’s complicated.”

“So, uncomplicated it,” I demanded. She grinned wryly.

“At your command. My being here serves a two-fold purpose. The first is that I am a researcher: and what I am researching is the life and times of the Mage Uvirith. Where you aware that this is the very spot his body was discovered in?” I shook my head, although given that the area was named Uvirith’s Grave, I wasn’t overly surprised. “Yes,” she continued, “and a very odd death he seems to have died too. He vanished from the Guild over in Balmora and, eventually, they became concerned enough to mount an expedition to locate him.

“After searching for many days, they found his corpse somewhere around here. It seems that he fell from a great height ~ with the inevitable consequences. Which is strange, because he was an accomplished mage and knew spells of levitation and slow-fall. Even odder was the length of frayed rope tied around his waist ~ what it was tied to at the other end, nobody knows.”

“All very interesting,” I interrupted, “but not really telling me why you are here.”

“Well,” she said, flushing slightly, “his staff was never found, although they scoured the area. It was, and probably still is, a very powerful piece of magical equipment. I had hoped to find some trace of it. The other thing is, recently I came into possession of a book of his that suggests he was looking for something very special ~ and may even have found it.”

“And what would that be?” I asked. She mumbled something quickly and quietly that I didn’t catch.

“A flying Dwemer fortress,” she snapped when I asked her to repeat what she’d said. I laughed until the tears ran down my cheeks while she stood there glowering at me.

“I’m sorry,” I finally managed to splutter. “Are you telling me that you actually believe those children’s’ stories about a big flying castle that swoops down and rewards good children come New Life Eve?”

“Not in the slightest…” she started to say, then stopped and looked at me. “Perhaps,” she amended, “I’ve found that there’s often a grain of truth in even the most fanciful tales. But I’ve spent many years chasing those grains of truth and rarely found anything. Which means that I’ve spent a lot of money and have little to show for it…”

“Which brings you to the second reason you’re here?” I suggested warily.

“I have heard,” she said carefully, “that Telvanni Mage-Lords hire mercenaries and was wondering…”

“Well, I’m no Mage-Lord,” I replied “and have no need of mercenaries at the moment.”

“I’m willing to wait,” she replied. I nodded thoughtfully. I hadn’t really given any thought to the protection of my tower and, given my ambitious plans for my self, I really should. If I rose much higher than my current rank of Spellwright, I could expect the unwelcome attentions of the lower ranking Telvanni who wanted my position. A few mercenaries wouldn’t go amiss.

“I’d be willing to consider you for the position,” I said. “But I need to know that you’re trustworthy. No offence, but you could be here to gain a position with me and use that position to a rival’s advantage. Here’s a couple of hundred Septims as a retainer. Keep your eyes peeled,” I said as I handed over the money, “and when I come back I shall expect a report from you.”

Leaving Kallin Basalius to her assigned task, I followed Llunela’s directions until I found myself at the ruins of Mzanchend. The ruins were only small, much of what had existed was lost behind a massive cave-in, but they did boast a small array of those spider-type animalcules. Having filled a collection pouch with a small number of rubies and diamonds, I finally found what I hoped I was looking for ~ a small sheet of the strange material the Dwemer used for writing and drawing on, covered in bizarre symbols and lines.

There was one other interesting feature in Mzanchend. Opposite the main entrance there was a flight of stairs leading down to a small corridor. At the end was a massive Dwemer door ~ the ornate engraved kind rather than the simple iron doors that you usually find in a ruin. What made this door particularly interesting was the lock that sealed it. It was not a Dwemeric lock; rather it bore the ornate style of local manufacture. Whoever had placed the lock had seriously intended to keep people from whatever was behind the door: no amount of examination or magic seemed to make the slightest difference; it simply would not be opened.

With a resigned shrug, I left the intriguing lock (I admit, its presence there had piqued my interest) and made my way back to Sadrith Mora. There Llunela Hleran had something of a shock for me. She’d been studying the drawing I’d brought back for a while before she spoke to me.

“This device can be made: I have enough knowledge to make it myself. However it can only be used once and it’s going to cost five thousand Septims to produce.”

“Five Thousand!” I exclaimed.

“I’m afraid so,” she replied. “Some of the materials are going to be very difficult to obtain, and there’s a lot of work that needs to be done. It will take me a day, or two, to create this object but once it is done, your tower should be ready fairly quickly.”

It was with a heavy heart that I handed over the money, five thousand Septims represented almost every Drake I had accumulated since arriving here, save the money safely tucked away in the Bank of Vvardenfell. It was with a much lighter purse that I returned to Balmora ~ on the morrow I would have to see what could be done about replenishing my funds.

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My plans for today were simple: pick an area on the island I’d never been to before and explore it for ruins, caves, or mines that could provide me with something to sell to get some more money. I’d never had much clink before coming to the island and had become accustomed to carrying a fair amount of coinage and buying those little things that make life so pleasant. Like food and water. I managed to sell the rubies and diamonds I’d collected yestere to Nelcarya but didn’t get anything near what they were worth. Still, I had a couple of thousand now and a plan.

“Ex hic absum, ut Ald’ruhn,” I chanted, and then found myself in the dusty square that forms the heart of Ald’ruhn. I ventured into the Mage Guild (where my reception was every bit as frosty as I expected it to be) and sought out Mrania. “I want a translocation spell that’ll take me somewhere off the beaten track,” I told her.

“Dagon Fel,” she replied without hesitation. “It’s a small Nordic outpost at the extreme north of the island. Apart from the town and a few Dwarven ruins, there’s not a lot up there except wild country.”

That sounded ideal, and I purchased the necessary spell: leaving myself in a worse financial situation than I’d been when I awoke. Another of life’s little jests. Speaking the now familiar words, I took myself off up to this Dagon Fel place. Imagine a slightly larger, much poorer Seyda Neen: then add an air of damp, cold squalor instead of the warm, fetid squalor. That pretty much sums up Dagon Fel. A massive Inn dominated the small collection of wooden huts that formed the town, the huts clustered around the sizeable docks that formed the focal point of the town. There was no ship at dock, but there were a large number of fishing vessels bobbing up and down on the waves out in the bay.

Much more interesting were the ruins that poked above the high hills that surrounded the town. Massive Dwemer towers, I could see two ~ no, three of them from where I stood.

“Aye lass,” one of the locals said when I asked him. “There’s plenty o’ Dwarven ruins tae be found up here. Them and fish. Pretty much all we got going for ourselves. Mind, there’s plenty o’ legionnaires up here as will take a dim view o’ ye going in and just taking stuff.”

Well, that seemed to mean that the ruins up here were pretty much off limits or, at least, those close to town. With a shrug, I settled my pack on my shoulder and set off in a northerly direction along the road out of town. I’d barely been walking an hour when I realised exactly what Mrania had meant when she’d spoken of ‘wild country’.

Massive craggy peaks rose up on both sides of the track I was on, their sides bare of any vegetation and glistening coldly in the damp air. Every so often, the path would wander into a small hilly area and there the path would split off in half-a-dozen different directions. Since these tracks were not signposted and there was no other centre of population on this small landmass, I was reduced to picking a direction and heading off. Since all of the canyons looked very similar, I was soon quite lost.

To make matters worse, it started to rain. Not the soft gentle rain that I’d encountered in West Gash or the Ascadian Isles, nor even the heavy rain of my childhood in Hammerfell. No, this was a curtain of water that came hurtling out of the sky accompanied by the low grumble of thunder. Tip your head back and open your mouth; you could drown in rain like this. I stumbled over rock made suddenly slick with water, cursing and spluttering in the rapidly reducing light. A titanic boom split the gathering gloom as huge sheets of lightning tore the day apart. There, a little way in front of me was a familiar shape.

Slamming the door of the tomb shut behind me, I shivered as the water dripped off me. Not even the heavy stone surrounding me could muffle the thunder’s rumblings, but at least I was somewhere dry. My pack had kept the contents dry, at least I had that to be thankful for, and I quickly changed into a dry robe. Tying back my hair, I took a look around me. Typically, there was a flight of stone steps leading down to a wooden door. Hopefully the tomb would be uninhabited by spectres, or worse, and I could find an area inside where I could light a fire. However, prudence made me draw my axe before venturing down the stairs.

It’s hard to say who was more surprised: the five lesser vampires who’d made this sepulchre their lair, or me. Actually, that’s not true, the way my luck had been running of late, I was completely unsurprised. Five at once was far too many for me to deal with and I slammed the door on their astonished looks and legged it up the stairs as quickly as I could. Even as the lower door banged open behind me, I grabbed my pack and tore open the main entrance ~ I fancied I could feel hot breath on my neck as I raced out into the rain. I had, many days ago, resolved to be much more aggressive but fate’s games with my destiny obviously hadn’t finished. When faced with a quintet of hungry leeches, running away is sometimes the only viable option.

Ignoring their jeers as they cowered from the daylight in the arch of the tomb, I made a rude gesture in their direction and set off through the rain. I needed to put as much distance between the burial place and me as possible ~ I didn’t fancy being on tonight’s menu. Head down, soaked to the skin, I plodded on through the never-ending rain, taking random turns along the path as I headed roughly east.

So it was, sometime after the midday hour that I came to a small cavern. Come Oblivion or high water, I intended to use it as shelter until the rain had let up a little. The slavers who’d made the cavern their home were less than enthusiastic about the idea but a combination of steel, magic and a very aggressive Atronach soon solved that problem. The three Suthay-Raht and the very ill looking Argonian were delighted when I set them free, and insisted on gathering the slaver’s spoils for me and assisting me in the preparation of a meal.

Slavery might be legal in Morrowind Province but there was no way I was going to leave these poor souls chained to the back of a cave to await their fate ~ especially as that fate was probably starvation. Two of the Khajiiti and the Argonian took their leave after helping me prepare and eat a meal, but one of the Khajiiti remained with me for a while.

“Dark Elf not like other Telvanni,” Ri'Dumiwa said, peering at me. “You set Ri'Dumiwa free, why you do this?” Wearily I explained why I had, that I disliked the idea of slavery in general and that ~ even if I was well disposed towards the idea, I couldn’t be responsible for the death of any number of slaves by starvation.

“Ri'Dumiwa not forget this, Dark Elf,” it said, rising to its feet. “Ri'Dumiwa remember Telvanni name.” With that enigmatic comment, it silently padded off out of the cave. I shrugged and huddled closer to the fire, feeling the chill in my bones abating as the warmth of the flames wrapped around me.

I awoke with a start, my axe had slipped from my grasp and the metallic clatter had awoken me from my brief nap. Stretching, I rose to my feet and looked around. I felt much better for my sleep and, once again, oddly invigorated. I put out the fire and sifted through the pile of spoils the slaves had gathered for me. Much of it wasn’t of any use but I did take a number of scrolls, some throwing stars and three hundred and fifty Septims.

I was surprised when I stepped out of the caves, night had fallen and the rain had stopped ~ overhead, the stars twinkled in a clear sky. Obviously my nap had been much less brief than I thought it had. I remembered a very comfortable looking hammock in the caverns that would prove ideal for the night.