The Tale of Sudhendra Vahl: Every Day a Walk In The Park... Options

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The Tale of Sudhendra Vahl: Part Seven

Darius, according to Master Demnevanni, ran his office out of the Madach Tradehouse in Gnisis. So, after translocating there after breaking my fast, I made my way into the lower half of the “shell” that comprised the Tradehouse. Darius was short, stocky, and clad in gorgeous armour – all gilded metal with a flowing red cape. He looked up at me and said, “So, you want to join the Legion do you Citizen Vahl? Well, it’s true that we have a shortage of Manpower ~ and Merpower for that matter. You look capable enough. Tell me, are you capable of following orders?”

“Excellent,” he said when I assured him I was. “It’s a Mer’s life in the Legion. Every day a walk in the park, every meal is a banquet, every pay check a fortune. It’ll make a Ma... Mer of you. Right, Recruit Vahl, here is your regulation-issue chain cuirass. You will wear it when you address a superior officer, do I make myself clear?”

“Yes… sir,” I replied.

Darius shook his head. “The first and last word I want to hear out of your mouth when you address me is ‘Sir’. Now sound out like you got a pair. Do you understand me?”

“Sir, yes Sir,” I said in a clear voice, desperately trying to ignore the sniggering Orc in the corner of the room.

“Outstanding,” he said. “Now get that cuirass on and I’ll give you your orders.

“You might be wondering,” he said once I’d got the chain cuirass in place, “why I am billeted in the Tradehouse? Well, it’s because we have no room to expand. The widow Vabdas has a parcel of land the Legion needs to expand. I want you to come back to me with the deeds as quickly as possible. Is that understood?”

“Sir, yes Sir,” I replied, turning to march out of the room. As I went up the stairs, I heard General Darius addressing the Orcish Trooper, “gro-Khazor, what is your major malfunction?”

Vabdas had a house just west of town, out past Arvs-Drelen, so it wasn’t difficult to get to. Her reaction, when I spoke to her about the land-deed was to slap me across the face ~ hard. I suppressed the spells that roared into my mind and, speaking carefully, said, “you would be wise not to do that again.”

“Why?” she snapped, and now I could see the tears in her eyes. “Because you’ll kill me like you did Mansilamat?”

“I assure you ma’am,” I told her, “I had no part in the death of Mansilamat. Tell me what happened…” Bit by patient bit, I dragged the story from her. It seems that her husband, the aforementioned Mansilamat, had gone to the Egg-Mine at Gnisis to get some eggs. There, according to the widow, the Legion had killed her husband.

As I walked back towards Gnisis, I reflected that whatever power controls my life has an infinite capacity for capriciousness. What should have been the simple acquisition of a deed to some land had now become a murder investigation. Of course, that was how General Darius saw it and he told me to obtain proof that the Legion had been involved. Fortunately, the guard at the door of the Egg-Mine proved amenable to my charming behaviour and, after checking that there was nobody watching, he gave me the key to the door.

There was a familiar stink about the mine, one that I remembered from the Mudan-Mul Mine. Drawing my sword, I advanced with some care. Fortunately, whatever was blighting the mine was confined to the lower quarters and the Scribs in the upper chambers were not aggressive. I wish the same could be said of Trooper gro-Ogdum. The Orc gave me a three count to get the Oblivion out of the area he was guarding. As quickly as I could, I chose one of the passages and headed off down it. From up ahead I could hear the drip-drip of water and a strange noise ~ like wind. As I rounded the corner, I came upon the source of the sound. There, in the middle of the passage, was an Ancestral Spirit.

“Hear me Mortal,” it moaned, as I made ready to swing my sword, “Stay your hand ~ I am Mansilamat Vabdas, I was murdered, most foully, by the Orc Lugrub gro-Ogdum. I beg you, avenge me…” The last syllable was drawn out as the spectre faded from view. I knew that the word of an apparition would carry no weight with General Darius: I needed more proof. I found it in the depth of the pool nearby ~ the corpse of Mansilamat and a notched Imperial axe.

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“I think, on the whole, that fighting our way through to the leader of these smugglers is what we’re going to have to do. Whether we want to or not. What happens then will be dictated by what their leader says.”

“A fight. Oh good,” Saenus said, flexing his muscles and unsheathing his sword. “What are we waiting for?”

The stone walls of the Barrow stretched ahead of us, broken by a crude passageway that had been hammered into the side. Motioning Saenus to stand guard near this entrance, I hacked my way past a couple of rats and into the burial chamber itself. A quick scan was all that was needed to show that it was uninhabited ~ by the living anyway ~ and I made my way back to where the Imperial soldier was waiting. Tapping him on the shoulder, I motioned for him to accompany me down the tunnel.

We hadn’t descended far down the sloping tunnel when an Imperial soldier appeared at the bottom. “Crap,” Saenus said, “that’s Mus Roscius ~ one of the best swordsmen around after Gaea.”

“Let’s not give him a chance to demonstrate,” I suggested as the Man drew a sword from his belt and started up the slope towards us. I centred myself, building the construct in my mind before intoning, “chan annwfn s fferedig asgre.”

“By the Emperor’s Balls,” Saenus said as the swirling storm enveloped the soldier in lethal shards of ice, “remind me never, ever, to cross you Battlemage.” I favoured him with a quick grin as we closed on the still figure of the soldier: now covered in a thin rime of ice.

“Please don’t…” I started to say as Saenus Lusius reached out a finger to poke the immobile figure. I was too late, the instant that Saenus touched it, the poorly balanced figure toppled over, smashing into a million shards on the floor of the cave.

“Oh!” Saenus said in a tiny voice. Then he added, “That is seriously gross. Look at all the little bits. I mean, where is that supposed to fit… or that bit, where does that go?”

“Shut up,” I ground out between gritted teeth, flinching as his size eleven feet crunched on the shattered remains of Mus Roscius, grinding them into even finer fragments. “And for the love of Azura, mind where you’re stepping…”

A natural ramp of greyish stone led downwards into the lower reaches of the cave, shortly after that, there was another ramp leading down to even deeper sections. However, right in front of us was a short length of corridor that opened up into a small chamber. Apart from a couple of rats and a pair of bedrolls on a raised wooden platform, the chamber was empty. Well, almost empty. There were five barrels and three heavy looking chests in the chamber.

“Well, now we know we’re in the right cave,” Saenus said, showing me the Imperial broadsword he’d just plucked from one of the chests. I nodded, opening barrels and chests myself ~ just to see what they contained, of course. There were a number of weapons and bits of armour ~ along with a large supply of food. Enough for, say, five people. The Septim had dropped with Saenus too and, gripping our weapons, we headed back into the caverns to find the other four smugglers.

We reached the downward sloping stone and headed into the lower reaches of the cave. Our route took us into a small chamber where a heavily-built Cyrodiil was standing. “Now let’s not be hasty,” he said. “I'll get off the island and leave the weapons behind. You just let me go peacefully and don't cause any trouble with Carius, and I'm gone. And, look, I'll give you this nice axe as a little bonus for keeping this quiet. Carius will never miss me, and I'll just disappear. Ask Lusius about it. He'll give you good advice.”

“What do you think Saenus?” I asked.

“Suits me either way,” the soldier said. “Break a few heads, don’t break a few heads. Up to you really. Although, if he started running right now, I’m pretty sure we wouldn’t be able to catch up with him before he got to the docks and got the Oblivion off the island.”

“Good plan,” the smuggler said. “Let me just grab this…”

“Man obviously doesn’t understand the concept of ‘right now’,” Saenus rumbled menacingly. “Can I show him the difference between smashing his damn' fool head in right now and doing it later?”

“Erm, I’ll just be leaving then,” the Man said.

“Right now?”

“Yes Lusius, right now.” The man headed off down the tunnel at speed, his cry of “Run for your lives lads” echoing through the cavern. Saenus Lusius and I grinned at each other.

Saenus helped me pick out a few trifles in addition to the helm and emblem I’d found ~ he wasn’t above supplementing his own inventory with a few of the choicer items either. When we’d taken our pick of the spoils, we laughed at each other and made our way out of the caverns and back towards the Fort.

“D’you smell that?” Saenus asked anxiously as we drew close to the standing stone. “Smoke.”

We glanced at each other and picked up the pace, running through the woods towards the strengthening smell. As we cleared the trees, we both stopped and stared in shock. The heavy wooden gates had been torn from their hinges, cast aside like a child’s toy. Huge chunks of rubble littered the entrance from the collapsed arch that had housed the gates. Inside the Fort, the scene was no better. The central well had been torn apart and there was a gaping hole in the east curtain wall. Dazed and bloodied soldiers sat or staggered around.

“What the Oblivion happened here?” I snapped to a Trooper as he wandered by.

“Attacked,” he gasped. “Wolves, hundreds of them. And something else, didn’t see what. Tore the gates off their hinges like they was parchment.”

“Captain Carius is missing,” Saenus yelled, rushing back to my side. Within the hour, I’d managed to restore some semblance of order. I despatched a request to Ebonheart ~ the main city, not the docks that exist on Vvardenfell ~ requesting additional troops and stonemasons. The list of the dead was… blank. I gaped at Gaea Artoria when she delivered that news. Falx Carius was missing but, amazingly enough, not a single soldier had died. About ninety out of every hundred was injured, but there was not a single death.

It was Gaea who suggested that I head north and speak to the Skaal. Since they worship wolves, and Frostmoth had been attacked by wolves (I had my doubts but kept silent), she thought that they might know something about what happened.

“They may even be responsible for the Captain’s disappearance,” she said tightly. “We’ve had a few dealings with them,” she added, “but they’re barbarian savages and probably won’t give you the time of day. Still, this skull I found in one of their tombs might be helpful in breaking the ice.”

Since it was late, after sundown, I decided to make a start on the morrow ~ nothing good could come of wandering through wolf-infested forests in the dark. Besides, I wanted to consider the claw-marks I’d seen and hastily hidden. Four deep grooves cut into the surface of a stone. No mere wolf could manage something like that.