Cloak and Dagger, A Fan-Fiction Options

[Zalphon]

Prologue

3E 420

“Naïlo,” the Hlaalu Guard asked. “Did Stacey give you the package?” I opened the satchel at my hip and pulled out the box of drakes. I handed it to the Dunmer in Bonemold Armor. He reached for it and nodded.

“Now then, the Hlaalu Guards will turn a blind eye to the Thieves’ Guild activities in Balmora?” I asked. “That is the deal.” The deal had been in place for five years, ever since the Raynil Orayn became the leader of local Hlaalu in Balmora. The truth was simple: he was like every other Hlaalu, a corrupt, greedy thug.

I walked towards the bridge to the South Wall Corner Club. In the alleys, Skooma-addicts smoked away their money. This was Balmora, the real Balmora. It wasn’t uncommon for an outlander to disappear or a Skooma-addict to sell everything he owned down to the clothes off his back for another bottle of those precious crystals.

Habasi smiled as I crossed the bridge. “Did they receive the ‘package’?” she asked inquisitively. With a nod, I saw that smile grow from ear to ear. She patted me on the back and opened the door for me.

“Good job, Naïlo.”

“Sugar-Lips, it’s my duty to the Guild.”

“Sugar-Lips thinks you’re a good kid, Naïlo,” the Khajiit stated as we walked down the stairs. “Stacey would like you to see you, Ashborn.”

I strode over to the door with a sign: “Private Room” and knocked. When the door opened, a Redguard in exquisite clothes answered the door. He had light brown hair that was combed back. “Naïlo, you’ve been with the Guild for a few years now.”

“Y-yes, S-sera,” I stuttered. “I-I have been with the G-guild for some time.” This was the first time I had ever seen Gentleman Jim Stacey in the flesh. I had once received orders from him to deliver a package to the Hlaalu Council House, but only once.

“Relax, kid. I’ve got some good news for you. I’m officially promoting you to Wet Ear.”

“W-what are you serious?” I asked.

“Yes and with your new rank, I’ll need you to travel to Ald’ruhn to take orders from Relam Arinith, our ranking member there. He has needed someone to help him out with a few jobs,” Stacey grinned. “You think you can handle it, Kid?”

“Y-yes I can,” I nodded like an obedient child. “Can you pay for me to take a silt strider to Ald’ruhn?”

The human looked around for a moment then he finally came to a conclusion. “Tell him Stacey said if he gives you free passage to Ald’ruhn we’re even,” he ordered. “The next silt strider to Ald’ruhn is in the morning, so rest up.”

I walked out and the bartender tossed me a loaf of bread. “Have a good trip, Naïlo.” I had to walk forward to grab it; the Imperial never was a good judge of distance. With a hefty bite out of it, I made my way towards my room. The room had a cloth rug, a pillow and a blanket.

I lied down on the rug and put my head on the pillow. “Finally a member of the guild,” I whispered to myself proudly…

[Zalphon]

Chapter Two: The Witch-Hunter - Final

Myrth was gone, Relam was in a pool of his own blood, and Mira was scared out of her mind. I noticed her out of the corner of my eye she was in the fetal position, sobbing. With a few steps, I walked over to her and knelt down. “Are you okay, Mirabelle?” I asked gently. I was hoping for a yes, but I knew it wasn’t coming.

She just hugged me and whispered, “I-I-I’m so scared. What are we going to do?”

“We will have to find Myrth. I have a feeling he’s someone we need to have with us or he’ll end up with our enemies.”

Between sobs she managed to say, “Where are we going to go?”

“We’re going to Balmora. If we can warn the Hlaalu that Galos was slain by the hand of Redoran and that the declaration of war is from a Redoran, we can probably save them.” We needed to alert Hlaalu that this was of Redoran work. If we didn’t, then the Arch-Magister of House Telvanni would sweep Vvardenfell of all life, save for Telvanni.

I opened the door and there was Myrth. “Who’re you?” I asked him. “Why do you care about us? We need your help, but we need to know that we can trust you.”

“We’ll talk about it on the Silt Strider. Quickly, it’s almost midday, the last one for Balmora leaves at midday. I’ve already paid for the passage.” I motioned for Mira to get up and we traveled towards the gargantuan, insect-like creature.

The ash wasn’t beating, surprisingly. We climbed the stairs and crawled into the carapace of the beast. I firmly grabbed the hair, hoping not to have a repeat of last time. “I am Raynil Myrth, a Witch-Hunter. I have traveled across Tamriel searing the life out of vampires, ending the lives of necromancers and witches, and slaying undead in the name of the Tribunal and the Daedric Lords.”

“How does this affect us?” I questioned, right before the beast bounced high into the sky. “Why do you care about some thief and his friend?”

“I care about you, because you’re more than just a thief. I’m going to teach you a spell. Remember the pronunciation, it is called Almsivi Intervention. The words are: “Zekag Mo—Sep”. You say it together and the spell will bring you to the nearest Almsivi Temple.”

I nodded and with one final leap, we were home… Or what I thought was home. I climbed of the beast and Myrth whispered, “Use the spell.”

“Zekag No Sep?”

“Mo Sep, not No Sep. That spell has saved my life more times than I can count. Try again.”

“Zekag Mo Sep.” Suddenly, a flash of light surrounded me. I was left blinded momentarily and then I could see again. Suddenly a Dark Elf appeared, maybe a little older than I greeted me, “Hello, Traveler. Can I get you anything?”

“I am sorry to disturb you, Priest. I was practicing a spell.” Suddenly materializing beside me was Mira and Raynil. The priest greeted my companions, but Myrth was distracted and Mira was too anxious to say anything.

“We have to go,” Myrth stated. “If we don’t reach the Council House before the letter reaches the Duke, we’ll surely see a war break out that may cause much bigger problems.” The priest raised a brow, but I shook my head and sprinted up the stairs.

It was strange, but beautiful. The vases were filled with the bone-dust of heroes of Morrowind. The statue of Saint Nerevar was breath-taking. It looked so life-like. I knew it was all made of marble, but the armor looked like real bone-mold armor, the sword looked like his famous blade, Trueflame and was enchanted with an eternal, heatless flame spell.

I realized I had stood there gazing at the statue for well over a minute. Myrth grabbed me and we jogged up the stairs. We opened the door and darted for the Council House. In what felt like seconds, we arrived. Mira held the door open for me.

The Duke was standing there, with the Hlaalu Councilors. “Milord,” I blurted out, breathing hard. “Miner—Arobar—sent the a—assassin after Galos.”

“House Redoran would never try something so deceptive,” he replied agitatedly. “What are you? Are you a Telvanni Hireling? My friend is dead, we’re going into a House War, and my people will be suffering.”
“I’m trying to help you,” I explained. “I’ll admit to being a Thieves’ Guild—well former operative, but I overheard Arobar and a Morag Tong Assassin speaking.”

“Guards,” the Duke yelled. “Take this Mer and his companions to Fort Moonmoth. I’m sure they’ll enjoy a year of hard labor for being Thieves’ Guild Operatives.”

“Remember that spell, Nailo?” the Witch-Hunter asked. I knew it was time to cast it and I muttered the words. The flash of light gave me a feeling of serenity. We appeared in the Temple again, all of us.

“We’re too late,” I nervously muttered. “What are we going to do?”

“We’re leaving for Sadrith Mora.”

Mira heard those words and started whimpering. I saw the tears running down her face. “Goth—Gothren did his experiments there.”

“What did he do?

“I was born without any magical talent. I couldn’t remember spells and when I could remember the most minor ones, it left me feeling drained. My parents viewed me as a failure, both to my family and my race,” Mira explained as she whimpered. “So they sold me to Gothren. The Mer tested the ability to empower one’s magical potential. He succeeded, but I live in constant agony.”

She grabbed my short sword and pulled it across her wrist. Pale, blue blood dripped from the wound and boiled once it touched the ground. “Y-your blood is blue and it boils at this temperature?”

“Indeed it does,” Mirabelle whimpered.

“Let’s go to the Mages’ Guild to get teleported to Sadrith Mora,” Raynil advised.

I realized we were still in our Redoran clothing and as we walked out, I headed for the pawn broker. A few minutes passed as we walked towards it. A youthful Mer smiled as we walked in. “Clothes,” was the one word I said.

She pulled out a trunk of clothes. After digging in it, Mira pulled out some black, velvet robes. She also pulled out some black, velvet slippers and gloves. The Pawnbroker’s eyes just I was going to dig in, but Myrth pulled me back by the back of my shirt. “Do you have any leather armor?”

Her eyes lit up, “I have come into ownership of a suit of Septim-Grade Leather Armor. Made from the leather of a de-scaled Daedroth, then beneath is an extremely thin layer of troll leather for the regenerative property, and beneath that is velvet. Although, I doubt you could afford it.”

“How much would it cost for her clothes and this suit of armor?”

“For all of it, the cost would be—about twenty-one thousand drakes.”

Raynil muttered under his breath and the broker started to slouch. “How about ten-thousand?”

“This is Septim-Grade Leather Armor! I won’t settle for less than twenty-thousand.” Grumbling, Myrth pulled out a bag of jewels with a diamond the size of my fist in it.

“Do we have a deal?”

“Oh yes!” Mira undressed, save for her loin-cloth and donned the robes and pulled up the hood. She put the slippers on and the gloves. I put on the Septim-Grade Leather Armor and it felt extremely comfortable. Like a second skin. Raynil motioned for us to leave, quickly.

“How did you get all that?” I probed in awe.

“It’s called illusion. That’s actually a bag of rocks with one the size of your fist. By the time she realizes that, we’ll be long gone. The illusion will wear off after a few hours.” That was brilliant. He turned a bag of rocks into a bag of precious jewels.

“I’ve only ever seen rocks get their color changed, not their weight, texture, and entire shape. That’s amazing,” I blurted out.

“You learn some tricks when you’ve adventured with people who’ve forgotten more about magic than Telvanni Wizard-Lords will ever learn.”

We reached the Mages’ Guild and walked in. The Mages watched us as if we were Telvanni. When we reached the portal room, the Breton simply smiled and asked where we wanted passage. I said calmly, “Sadrith Mora.”

A flash of light appeared and suddenly, we were in the center of Sadrith Mora. Mushroom Towers sprouted to the East, the West, the North, and the South. Thieves, assassins, thugs, they all found refuge here. The Wizard-Lords cared little as long as they weren’t disturbed. This was a hive of villainy; hopefully Raynil had a plan…