Redemption, part 2 Options

[jack cloudy]

Click here for Redemption Part 1


Alright, part 2. Still not much redeeming going on but whatever. Now instead of continuing the story, I figured I'd use this post for all the miscellaneous stuff. Things like a character list and the recap for part 1. So be warned that this post CONTAINS SPOILERS. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!


RECAP FOR PART 1 Again SPOILERS!

One night, the palace is breached by unknown assailants. Following standard protocol for such events, the Emperor is secretly transported to the prison by his Blades. The Imperial Battlemage, Ocato, declines to join him, claiming that the situation is under control and that his services aren't needed.

Despite having reached the prison safely, the Emperor soon finds that he is still in danger. It is then that Uriel receives help from an unexpected ally. Angoril Bobardi reveals that the very cell he has inhabited for decades, contains a secret escape route that was built during the simulacrum at the order of Jagar Tharn. With this passage and the considerable magical prowess of Angoril, the Emperor manages to flee the deadly trap.

Also freed from the prison by Angoril is Maorlatta Orgnum, a young (by elf-standards) and somewhat naive girl who was arrested for the crime of sleeping in the park. Once free, she quickly makes herself scarce and eventually finds herself in the shack of an old fisherman who lives on an island in Lake Rumare. The fisherman seeks the help of the thieves guild to rid her of the manacles and prison outfit that would have every Legionnaire arrest her on sight. Unfortunately, the one assigned to pick the locks on the manacles informs Vicente Valtieri instead, who takes a personal interest in the girl’s talent for camouflage. Maorlatta is saved by the Redguard Sorian, a young and rather strange lad who keeps going on and on about something he calls an Ansei. The two team up to go treasure hunting in a nearby Ayleid ruin.

Meanwhile, Angoril returns to the prison. Pretending to be from the palace, he gets a vital clue from the Argonian private investigator Grey-Tongue. The Argonian sends him to Chorrol to find the source of the assassins distinctive red robes. To get to Chorrol, he summons a shiftgate, circumventing days travelling. From Chorrol the trail leads to Kvatch, a city whose precise location he does not know. Unable to summon another shiftgate with reasonable accuracy, Angoril seeks more mundane passage to Kvatch.

While Angoril is travelling, Maorlatta and Sorian hit the Ayleid ruin. After some trouble with a zombie, they strike gold and find an abandoned office with some intact artefacts. They attempt to sell the artefacts in the Imperial city, where they are intercepted by Grey-Tongue and then Vicente Valtieri. Sorian again makes the vampire flee. The next morning Maorlatta wakes up in the Imperial palace with no recollection on how she got there or what happened during her stay at Grey-Tongue’s house. Jauffre interrogates her in the garden at the top of the tower.







Redemption's persons of questionable importance

Main characters:
Angoril Bobardi: An Altmeri sorcerer who inhabited a cell in the Imperial prison, fully aware of the secret escape route. After leaving the prison, he makes it his task to track down the leaders behind the red-robed assassins.

Maorlatta Orgnum: A Maormer from Pyandonea, sent to Tamriel at the command of king Orgnum. Circumstances land her in the same prison as the Altmer. After escaping, she returns to the pursuit of her own goals, one of which is to become filthy rich.

Side characters:
Grey-Tongue: An Argonian private investigator. He is a friend of Hieronymous Lex and has been hired by the guard-captain in the past. Grey-Tongue is hired now as well by the city-guard to investigate the events at the prison and find Uriel’s corpse.
Guard-Captain Hieronymous Lex: Hieronymous Lex is the man put in charge of investigating the massacre at the Imperial Prison. Upon finding that Uriel Septim was seen entering the prison that night, he hires Grey-Tongue to help him uncover the truth.
Sorian: A Redguard who saves Maorlatta from Vicente Valtieri. A simple wandering swordsman with a slight Ansei-obsession.
Rajn Geydar: A Wood Elf who lives in Kvatch. At one point possessed a piece of the Balac-Thurm.

Others:
Guard-Captain Argelius: A colleague of Hieronymous Lex who describes him as the man to call when you need subtlety.
Bannon: A merchant who travelled with Angoril from Chorrol to Kvatch
Baleni: Daughter of Rajn Geydar
Doruk: The Bouncer who worked at Rajn Geydar's restaurant. Deceased.
Penald Baurus: Blade and bodyguard of Uriel Septim.
Berius: Lord Protector and Head of the palaceguard in the Imperial City.
Valen Dreth: A Dunmeri prisoner. Not the most pleasant sort.
Jennifer Renault: Blade, recently promoted to captain.
Glenroy: Blade and bodyguard of Uriel Septim.

Fenasim: A member of the emperor's Palace guard.
Mankar Camoran: The father of both Raven and Ruma. He is the leader of the Mythic Dawn and its prophet.
Raven Camoran: The ‘Hand’ of the Mythic Dawn, an organization with an unknown purpose. What is certain however, is that the Dawn wants Uriel Septim dead.
Ruma Camoran: The sister of Raven, she serves the Mythic Dawn as Priestess. In the same night that the attempt on the emperor’s life is made, she infiltrates the vaults beneath the Imperial palace to steal two artefacts.
Harrow: A member of the Dawn, Harrow used to be an Armiger stationed in Vvardenfell.

Ludius Bester: Member of Bester and Bester, the Kvatch Hall of Mercantile Interests. He runs the office in lower Kvatch.
Aelwin Merowald: An old fisherman who lost most of his leg to Slaughterfish. Friend of Delmar Tunius.
Rajn Geydar: Owner of the Eight Provinces, a restaurant in Kvatch.
Ra’Jezhr: A Khajiiti lockpicker in the employ of the Thieves Guild, Ra’Jezhr is also coerced into serving the Dark Brotherhood’s interests.
Simanuel Rosendorf IV: The owner of a silk-plantation near Chorrol

Umbacano: An Altmer who lives in the capital city. A well-known collector of Ayleid artefacts.
Uriel Septim VII: The Emperor of Tamriel.
Brother Tanner: A priest who serves in the Kvatch-temple. Looks like a Septim.
Delmar Tunius: An old fisherman who lives on a small island in lake Nibenay.
Vicente Valtieri: A member of the Dark Brotherhood, he takes interest in Maorlatta’s talents at stealth, and desires to make her an assassin, with or without her cooperation.

Latta’s evergrowing list of people only she knows:
Levvelyn of Glashorn: The hero of a popular series who spends most of his books saving the world, slaying vicious monsters, duelling devious Altmeri warlords and chasing the girl.
Irrillys: A fictional princess of Pyandonea, she is Levvelyn’s love interest. Posesses an unfortunate talent for being kidnapped by devious Altmeri warlords.
Mettildi: The Maormer that taught Maorlatta how to fight, though his methods traumatized her to the point where she is mentally incapable of defending herself.
Master Zelthir: Another Maormer put in charge of educating Maorlatta. Master Zelthir is a well-known and highly respected healer.

This post has been edited by jack cloudy: Sep 22 2013, 07:36 PM

[jack cloudy]

Chapter 9.3

Blades’ Hideout


That short little nap I took next to the fireplace wound up being just about the only sleep I caught that night. The ‘room’ I was given turned out not to be very conductive towards revitalizing one’s body, mostly due to the lack of a fire. Granted, I was not familiar with the logistics of ones fueled by wood, or large-scale flames in general, but I couldn’t see why it was so hard to have one in the guest room. Just cut up a tree, right?
I say guest room, but even that was subject to a rather generous interpretation of the word. By using guest, one would expect to receive a certain form of hospitality. I certainly did, after the Lord Emperor had officially noticed and accepted my presence. He was the most important and powerful man on the continent, so I assumed that everyone lower on the rankings would follow his word. And yet they still threw me in a cell cold enough to store meats with no light or any furniture beyond a pile of dusty furs lying in a corner. I had a lot left to learn about Tamrielic court policy it seemed.

By the time morning came, or what passed for morning in a place with no windows and good clean sunlight, I was just about ready to be hung and boiled in a pot. I heard the door open, but it took me some time to free myself from the furs I’d curled up in.
“Skin is slick, white with no visible veins. Zero bodyhair. Flat toes, barbs between fingers of two to three millimeters in length.” My reply to that is not worthy of mention. Let it be known that my brain was as chilled as my toes and my nose felt like someone had jammed a piece of stonewater into it. I got out of the pile just in time to see the torchbearing figure toss something at me and almost smacking me in the face with it. It was a tome, heavy leather plated with goldleaf lettering and some artist’s impression of the world. Mostly out of habit, I flipped it open to a random page. I landed on a detailed treatise on the differences between meric and mannish development during pregnancies. Fascinating, though the drawing held some serious errors. Our ears don’t become pointy because they’re stretched out in the womb by bony hooks.
“Lexicum Sapiens Tamrielis, the most accurate and comprehensive list of all thinking beings in the world.” The figure continued. “I suppose you’re not hairy, but that’s hardly a distinctive trait and nothing else matches. Hell, you’ve got enough of a tan to claim Redguard ancestry. Uriel may believe he has recognized you but I need a very good explanation for why you don’t match the description.”

Slowly, my thoughts began to resemble those of the living again and I felt an anger taking hold. Put simply, this woman had decided that court policy didn’t apply because she read something in a book and real life didn’t agree with it. And there were all things wrong with it. It had Tamriel butchered into the title and I wasn’t even from there. And where did they get the bright idea to describe us by starting with our colour? The rest wasn’t too far off, but the colour? That’s the last thing one would bother to mention about a healthy Maormer. I mentally kicked myself in the head. There was the answer, all too obvious.
“I’m not dead.” I told her. She cocked her head to one side and chewed on it for a long, long time before giving a wonderfully intelligent reply. It was truly the magnificent display of which only a well-educated mind could conceive.
“Oh.”


She waved me on into the corridor and bade me to follow as she stomped off.
“Now tell me why you’re here. Somehow, I doubt you’re just a tourist.” She said, still suspicious for no reason. I wondered if this was the same woman who had thrown me in that cell last night. These roundears all looked the same, especially when they’re wearing helmets.
“That, is none of your concern. I am Maorlatta Orgnum, princess-heir and designated representative to lord Thras Orgnum, Lord Eternal of Pyandonea. My reasons are mine, to be shared solely with the Lord Emperor Uriel Septim the seventh, ruler of Tamriel.” Now be quiet and take me somewhere warm.
“And I’m, Jennifer Renault, his shield. His concerns are my concerns.” Which was a polite way of saying that it would really be in my best interests to tell her, lest I might receive hands-on instruction in the use and advantages of a metal sword. I giggled nervously for a bit and then let out a long drawn-out sigh. The day it was me bullying harmless kitchenmaidens again simply couldn’t come soon enough.
“The Imperial dynasty of Tamriel entered into a covenant with the house of Orgnum, in the year…” I paused. What year was it in Tamriel reckoning again?
“Now seventy-eight years ago. I remember it like it was yesterday.” That was actually quite a while ago now that I thought about it. I don’t think I’d even lost my babyteeth then.


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My aunt had woken me up around midnight, then unleashed her maidens on me. By the time the sun rose and we’d boarded her yacht, I’d been bathed, perfumed, dressed, polished, bejeweled and instructed till my ears bled. The summary of those lessons were shut up and don’t stare too much. I managed the first one pretty well, though that was mostly because I was struggling not to fall asleep on my feet again. The other, not so much.

Orgnum Thras, the ageless king of Pyandonea, did not reside in one place. Or rather he did, but that place swam freely among the countless islands of our realm. His palace happened to be near today and my dear aunt had decided it was time she presented me to grandfather and the other immortals. His estate, if it could be called such, was of the species commonly referred to as the king’s beetle. No doubt because of its oldest, greatest specimen. And huge it was, larger than anything I’d seen, including auntie’s island. On its back rose towers of spellspun glass,banners of all colours, shapes and sizes. A flock of firebirds weaved among the flying gardens and above it all the living island’s manycoloured wings waved to carry a soft breeze over the palace and its grounds. Beneath, a hundred legs walked across the seabed and a second pair of wings sweeped water into its cavernous mouth. Auntie had to tell me to pick up my chin.

I could go on for hours on everything and everyone I saw, but most of it was unimportant in the grand scheme of things. What was important happened in the night. A stranger came into the palace, despite the best efforts of the king’s men to remove him. I remember being scared of him. He was too tall, dressed in black like some demon, with eyes the colour of blood. He strode in there as if he was greater than the immortals around him. Perhaps he was, he didn’t seem to be having any trouble with the best duelists in Pyandonea. I don’t know what the man said once he’d reached the throne, but the king removed his mask for him. Well, nobody left standing was going to try and hurt the stranger after that. Not after receiving the greatest honour a Maormer could get.

It was five years ago that I finally learned who that man was and why he’d come. So now I was here, as one of the main actors in the second part of this play.


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In the time I’d spent reminiscing, Renault had brought us to a kitchen. There a pot was bubbling and steaming away over a set of glowing rocks, big cleavers, ladles and spoons hung on one wall and racks filled with urns lined the others. There was also a spiraling staircase going down in the center and some doors leading to other places. Best of all, it was deliciously warm in here so naturally I flowed to the source of it next to the pot.
The woman took the biggest cleaver and opened one of the doors. A wave of new cold came from the other chamber which seemed to be made entirely of stonewater, and contained a single piece of hung meat. Well, so much for the heat. She started hacking away at the carcass while grunting words inbetween swings.
“Pelagius Septim the fourth held the throne back then. Treaties by tradition fall upon the passing of the ruling emperor. If you’re here to renew it, you’re rather late.”

I hadn’t heard about that, but I could see them coming up with this. I remembered the long row of portraits that had lined my room in the Cyrodiil palace. If Tiber was the first emperor, and only four centuries (Aha, so I did remember the year!) had passed, then that line was far too long. Uriel must have been his son, or his grandson if the Tamrielics are sickly and old before their time. To have this many emperors between them, the only answer could be violent upheaval. Murder of the last Lord Emperor by the next and so on. I could see why some usurper didn’t like the idea of upholding the agreements with the allies of his enemy. But that had nothing to do with me.
“The covenant was sealed and done by the envoy of the Lord Emperor…then prince Uriel Septim, specifically in the name of the Septim house. As long as the bloodline remains intact so will the agreement. Moreover, the original signatories still live so I disagree with your assessment.”

I could see on her face she didn’t buy it, but she kept quiet till she’d finished chopping off a large piece of meat and carried it out to the kitchentable. I was happy to close the door behind her.
“I’m no politician so I’ll take your word for it. For now. And, what is this agreement?” She asked me in the end.
“That is,” I began automatically but caught myself. It really was none of her concern. This was between the Houses Orgnum and Septim, not Orgnum and an overzealous guard-and-cook. Then I noticed that she was still holding the cleaver. I let out a long sigh. I really wanted to get home and away from all these metalbearing murderers.
“It was a loan.”

She laughed, a loud and thoroughly unpleasant guffawing that made my head hurt. She actually had to put down the cleaver before she hurt herself, so funny was apparently my joke.
“A loan?” She spurted, gasping for breath. Then she began to laugh uncontrollably again.
“Centuries of no contact, your whole people reduced to some fairy tale I never even heard of, and now you swing by to ask for money? That’s ridiculous!”
I shook my head and let out another sigh. Of course it was ridiculous. That’s the thing I said, five years ago.


“Pyandonea was approached by Tamriel. You swung by to ask us for money.”

This post has been edited by jack cloudy: Feb 24 2013, 03:23 PM