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]

My laptop is making strange noises and I've had a few blue-screens this week. Maybe it's time to look for a replacement.

However, that is not the reason for my continued slowness. No, the reason is the repeated rewriting of the chapter, the cutting out of bits and the re-adding of them. That, and plain old laziness.

In other news, I came across an image of Pyandonea. There were two things of interest to me. First was its location, which placed it to the south of Summerset. Secondly there was its nature as one big solid continent, with placenames that didn't make any sense to me and looked rather static. Maormer-landing? The whole continent is solely populated by Maormer, so why refer to your race in a place? If its the location where they first arrived, it might work. But in that case, I would personally prefer to attach it to an individual.

Fortunately for me, I discovered that image was from a mod for Oblivion, which also looks a bit dead. So I get to keep my Pyandonea, composed of lots of tiny islands, its silly moving palace and its location North-west of Summerset! Yay!

Ok, enough rambling. Back to business.



Chapter 9.7



“Pour me a drink, Brother. Gods, I need one.” I recognized that voice. It was the man who had been guarding the entrance to this place. While Baurus refilled his mug and slid it over to the doorkeeper, I studied his face. He’d left his helmet somewhere though he still wore the rest of his armour. What was his name again? Captain Stef something. The respect he received marked him as a high-ranking Blade. His face though, I felt for him. He was older than Baurus going by what was left of it. But mostly his features were a crisscrossing of scartissue from all kinds of sources. Cuts, broken bone, burns and some injuries whose cause I couldn’t determine. He’d seen war firsthand and paid for it dearly. Whether all the scarring meant he was a lousy swordsman or a good one, I couldn’t tell.
“ It’s been one thing after another since you showed up.” The man sighed after throwing back the mug in one huge gulp. “First the emperor comes to hide, then his sons die. Now Jauffre brought a w…ahem, elven dignitary. And this morning? First Sim flies off the handle, then Kort comes running carrying big news. Sealed envelope and everything. I passed it on to Jauffre and boy, he looked even more pissed than he usually does.” This Kort again. Was he some kind of messenger?

Baurus walked down the length of the table to get the karaff on the other end.
“What happened to Brother Fenasim?” He asked along the way, leading to another sigh from the devastated man. There were just so many scars on him. I had to look away in order to stop thinking of ways to fix the damage. Master Zelthir had demonstrated more than one method to heal such severe wounds but none of them were available to me even if I had all my tools at hand. It was just too depressing. So instead of following the lines and pits of ruined flesh my eyes followed the direction of his own.

He’d been looking at a particular set of swords ever since coming into the room. To me they looked unremarkable beyond the materials used, just one more shattered blade mounted on the wall. I blinked. Most of the swords were damaged in some way or another. They were warped or fragmented, most of them still tainted with old blood and some even looked like half-melted butter. Unremarkable had been the wrong word to describe them. Worn-down was a better word.
“Fenasim, what didn’t happen to him? It turns out that he…Ah forget it, there’s no way to say this nicely. The moment he learned the lady here was a mama.” My mind was only half there as I was now gripped by a morbid curiosity in the murdertools. So I corrected him without really knowing what he’d been saying.
“Maormer.” There seemed to be an order in which the blades were hung. On the one side the grips had rotten away to a few strips of leather but on the other they looked fresh from the workshop, apart from the damage. There was also a small blank space on the walls on this end. A place reserved for more swords?
“Maormer, thank you. Well, he was very eager to cause an intercontinental incident, if you get my drift. I had to talk him down, even though it would likely end with me on his sword.” That brought my intention back in a hurry. If this Fenasim had a personal interest in me, then what did he want? Raise his own social standing through close affiliation with House Orgnum? It wouldn’t be the first time. The name sounded elvish, so was he a Maormer? But there weren’t supposed to be any. Other than warslaves the Altmer caught in their raids, and those wouldn’t be walking around here. Baurus was as dismissive as I was, given his response.
“compassion.”
Captain Stef looked at his empty mug.
“Indeed. That’s the problem with duty, sometimes it makes you do things you just know are stupid.” He muttered.
“I think I need another drink.”




The man excused himself a little while later and went back to his post. Baurus decided that we would go to the armory next and when I asked him what would happen to the filthy tableware, he shrugged. Someone would clean up eventually. I didn’t like what that told me about the priorities here.
“Why did you bring that searat here?!”

I’d ducked behind Baurus at that first outburst and tried to become as small and unnoticeable as possible.
“Hands off, Fenasim. She’s under Uriel’s guard. And mine.” The man spoke with a hand on his sword. After that, silence. Eventually I gained the courage to peek beyond his back only to duck away again with a new panic. It was an Altmer, a real one!
“So I’ve been told.” The badmer spat. “Well I assure you that this is one matter I intend to take up with him. You mainlanders have no idea what you let into your backyard. These mist-elves are treacherous. They can’t be trusted!” He was going to kill me! That’s what the doorkeeper meant! Then why did Baurus move away from me? He was supposed to protect me!
“Save your arguments for the man, not me. I’m here on orders and until told otherwise, I aim to carry them out.” His actions didn’t match his words. The Altmer was right there in front of me! I couldn’t back away through a wall. I was stuck!

He turned away. Thoughts that had been frozen now resumed with the immediate threat gone. I knew I should just vanish and edge to the door.
“What do you need from me?” Good, keep looking at Baurus. Just a few more steps.
“First of all, the princess here has a slave-collar that needs to be removed.” No! Don’t point at me!

I froze again and tried to blend in with the stones. But the Altmer just kept looking right at me and in my frightened state, I couldn’t figure out how he did it.
“You’re not joking. The little witch is actual royalty. We should use her as a hostage to buy off the damn navy.” He said and turned away again, this time to rummage through his desk. Thoughts came back. I continued to move ever so slowly to the door, and safety.
“As I said, save it for him.” Baurus rumbled. Good, keep talking.
The mer tossed something and the man catched.
“Here’s the key. Believe me that it would be best for all of us if you do it yourself. My hand might slip. What else do you need?”
“I’m gearing up. The emperor has sent us on a mission.”
“Us?” The mer repeated and looked at me again. Why?! Though I trembled with fear again, I did manage to squeek out an answer. Barely.
“I..swore a-an oath. Of service.” If the words did anything to persuade him, they failed. But they did provide a foothold to my mind. I did swear an oath. And Altmer or not, I would not run from seeing it fulfilled.
“An oath, riiiight.” The tall one sneered but miraculously, he turned his attention back towards Baurus. “What level of gearing up are we looking at?” I swear, his words were almost business-like.

Baurus looked left and right and answered.
“Hope peace, assume war. Discreet, but not stealthy.”
“Fighter’s guild it is then. Weapons, armour, papers, all of it should be where you left it. Ask Renault for general supplies. She got dismissed from duty earlier.” The golden one said and I wondered. Fighter’s guild?
“Thanks.”
“See if you still feel like thanking me later.”
They both ignored me then. For a bit longer I kept watching the Altmer but even that didn’t last. Stupid as it was, my fear made way for an entirely different kind of emotion. Boredom.

At first still hesitating, I began to walk around myself. The Altmer’s eyes swept to me whenever my feet brought me close to a sword, an axe or a spear. But if I avoided any of those, he focused on a forge instead, on which he was hammering a piece of metal. Well, if that was the case, it was fine by me. I wasn’t that interested in deathdealing tools anyway. There were plenty of other items that did interest me. Armours for example. Unlike weapons, these aimed to preserve life, not end it. It was only a pity one was often used to help do the other.

I saw animal skins, treated, dried and thickened layer upon layer. These I knew. There were armours made from chains upon chains of iron. I knew the form, but not the material. Most common were the bands of steel like what Baurus wore. And finally there was the armour of the Altmer himself. It was a mirror melded to his form like water. And there were gaps in it, ugly ones like a turtle’s shell that had been pried open by a crab.

There were helmets that followed the same pattern. Skins, chains and steel. Most were plain, made to serve their purpose and nothing more. But others were more ornate, like the seashell mask with embedded pearls tracing out the symbols of Yokuda-watch, head of the tower. I blinked and did a double-take. It did say Yokuda-watch. That was my mask!
“Your papers were already brought to an associate” Jauffre had said that at the top of the Imperial palace. Evidently they’d taken more than just my papers. Now that I knew what to look for, I saw more of my own possessions. The traditional riding crop made from a firebird’s tailfeathers. My sandals with the springy soles of thrice-folded leaves and foam. The silverthread belt and attached to it my storing pouch, both things I quickly took and put on. There was my dress, its limbs frozen in rigor and wings torn to shreds. I picked it up, brushed away some of the dirt. Poor thing, it had been so well-trained too. Then it was snatched from my hands.
“Hey! That’s mine!” I said and wheeled around to grab it back. My hands never reached higher than my chest. It was the Altmer who’d taken the garment and looked at it with keen interest. He mumbled something in Altmeri, too quick for me to catch it. Then he rudely shoved something else into my arms.
“This, is yours.” He said and walked back to his forge while shaking his head. I looked at what he’d given me and mumbled something of my own. It was a staff as weathered as the swords in the main hall. Its shaft of golden wood was cracked, warped and blackened and capped with a small sphere of polished glass. A large crack had nearly split the ball in two.

The thing was broken and probably seen as junk by the mer, but I could still feel the magic in the glass. It buzzed and ached in my skull like my own spellsong, but fortunately not as bad. I wondered what it did? Was it crafted to burn people, or cut them from afar? Did it soften walls, shatter arms? I swallowed and summoned my courage.
“Ah, what does it do?” I asked him even though I didn’t expect an answer. His hammer rose and fell heavily on the steel armourpiece he was working.
“It glows.”

I looked at the staff, then at the mer and then at the staff again.
“Maormer. I will be giving your goods a very thorough inspection. I will find the evil you are planning. And how you bypassed our patrols.” What little was left of my fear for him was driven aside by anger over his words. I was not evil nor did I plan it! Almost I’d blurted out exactly how easy it had been for the ship to go around the wooden vessels of Tamriel. Almost. It was a convenient shred of common sense, bolstered by the knowledge that telling would leave Pyandonea open to a new invasion from the Altmer, that made me keep my mouth.

Baurus came and tapped my shoulder, gestured at the door.
“I don’t trust him.” I grumbled once we were back in one of the corridors and out of earshot. Baurus laughed which made me angry. I had not forgotten how he’d basically left me at the mercy of the badmer.
“Well now there’s a big surprise. But let me tell you one thing. If there is a single person here who can be absolutely trusted, it is Brother Fenasim.” He said. It was ridiculous of him, and I told him.
“But he tried to kill me!”
“And yet he didn’t. Love or hate, they don’t guide his sword.”




My next meeting with Renault was less heartstopping than the armory-visit, but no less important. The woman turned out to be a healer, one with a cluttered lab that gave me an instant bout of homesickness. Oh, Master Zelthir would have things to say on her workplace, but this was one of the few things were I disagreed with him. A disorderly lab, as long as the tools were kept clean and functional, the ingredients unsoiled, just meant its owner used it as more than a bragging-tool. I admit that Baurus’ surprise and subsequent confusion over our conversation amused me. He stepped outside in the end. It was only too soon that the woman handed us two parcels of restoratives and sent us on our way again.

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“There are four tasks I need you to perform. The first two are absolutely necessary, the other two are pursued at your discretion.” The Lord Emperor’s voice was strong and he sat near the fire in a comfortable seat rather than lying in bed. If I knew better, I would have called it a miracle and be glad he seemed to be the healthiest I’d ever seen him. But I did know. The antidote in my hand made sure of that.
“The vital information is on this note. Memorize and burn it before you leave the room.” He continued and eagerly shoved a piece of paper in my free hand. His grip was firm and stable, but the skin felt feverish to the touch.
“Oh Jennifer, I know now how you feel. How do you protect a man like that from himself?” I thought to myself as I took the paper and asked him politely to sit down again.

Uriel Septim began to explain to us and I looked at the letter he’d written. Why he couldn’t tell us everything was beyond me. He certainly didn’t seem to be in too much of a rush to end his current, well, rush.
“The first and second task share a goal. Under no circumstance are you to return with task one unless you also deliver task two.” I looked at the first line that was written on it. It had been jotted down with a shaky hand and a script that was as ligible as it was short. It seemed to me that the venerated elder had chosen to write it down himself instead of asking someone else to do it.
Martin Tanner Kvatch temple Imperial male 180cm 30yrs
First thing that caught me was the age. Thirty years would make this Martin Tanner Kvatch a child. The first question in my mind was how were we supposed to take him away from his parents,but then I idly did the math to translate his height into something more familiar. My estimates made him about a hand taller than me, if my math was right and I was pretty sure I didn’t miss a finger. Just what did they feed their sons here?
Rajn Geydar Kvatch Eight Provinces wood elf female 146cm 57yrs
I did the math again. This one had a more reasonable height. A tad too short actually considering her age, but nothing that made me question her health and dietary background. But again, a child? At least she was at the age were you could motivate them through reason. For a few days.
“I brag about my well-rounded education, but I haven’t been tutored on motherhood yet.” How was I supposed to placate a thirtier? That was right at the point they get rebellious. Too old for sweets and toys, too young for logic. Maybe I could use the older sister to control the young man.

I’d been given a moment to think about it, and memorize what it had said before His Grace babbled on again.
“The third task, I doubt you will succeed. But if you do come across a way to achieve it, do so. I suggest you start by buying a biography in any bookstore.” Biographies? I read the third line and it only brought more answers.
Nerevarine
That was it, just one word. Was it a name, a title? It was hard to say, but the word contained the aspects of birth and child. I hoped this wouldn’t be a youngster. But I’d been adviced to look in at a bookstore. Biographies weren’t written on children, usually. I would ask Baurus about it later.
“Finally, the fourth task. The attempt on my life was not the only incident that night. There was another. See the note.” Uriel Septim said and I read.
The item, you know what it looks like.
My head ran aground. He couldn’t. No, no!
“The ones that posess the fourth task are the same who attacked me. Be careful and avoid taking risks. Use your Blades for this.”

“That sniveling discarded skin of a worm! All this time I’d been worried sick about breaking the covenenant and how to explain it, when he had gone and done it first! By losing the cursed thing! I attached myself to his House for nothing!”

“Permit me a question, your grace. Why send me? I am ignorant of both your people and your maps.” I didn’t keep the poison from my words. To be honest, I didn’t try very hard.
“Because Pyandonea has nothing to gain or lose.” The Lord Emperor answered and looked at me not with anger as I’d expected for my breach of etiquette, but sadness.
“Your isolation goes both ways. You cannot attack Tamriel in force, and no faction has the means to strike at Pyandonea. It is in Pyandonea’s interests to maintain the current state. Furthermore, from what I have been told, and seen, the Maormer greatly value and act to preserve their honorable conduct, a rare thing nowadays.My envoy believed that the static nature and absolute might of its ruler is the cause. Noone has been able to dethrone your king for so long that the political maneouvering has all but ceased.”

“Your assessment is based on few observations.” I said and this time I did control my voice even though I was still furious. He’d lost it! And insinuating that anyone would plan of dishonoring lord Orgnum? It was unthinkable!
“True, but look at yourself. You know now that I broke the treaty but won’t let it affect your actions. “Even if he breaks his word, I will not break mine.” Those are your thoughts. You may hate me now, but you will not willingly see me come to harm.”

That was it. I had to admit he knew me better than I did myself. I hadn’t actually thought it yet, but I could see the truth in his words. From the moment I’d learned my subjugation was based on betrayal and error, I’d thought of all the things I was justified to do. I could have demanded reparations, or simply left at the earliest convenience. The conditions upon which I’d given my vow did not exist and so it was null and void. I’d thought that, but the Lord Emperor had spoken the truth. Even if I could prove breaking my word had been just to others, to me it would still feel like a lie and betrayal.
“I belong to my House. I will not shame its name for my own convenience, nor will I give excuses or justifications. The honour of my House wills me to voice my displeasure with your inability to safeguard that what was lent to you in good faith. The honour of myself wills me to protect your House as if it were my own.”

“Thank you and though it makes no difference, I truly regret placing you in this position. If there was anyone else I could trust, I would send him.”

There was nothing left to say. Baurus read the note for himself, shredded it, sprinkled it into the fire and then added more wood to the leaping flames. In the meantime I let the Lord Emperor breather the antidote and settled him in his bed. Then we were done and left.

This post has been edited by jack cloudy: Feb 24 2013, 03:27 PM