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]

Ok, I doubled the spacing for now so tell me how that works. I also added a chapter-number to the top and will retroactively add it to the previous ones. (I hope I haven't miscounted) And if there is any character who still needs to go in the list on the first page, please tell me.

The last time we saw the Mythic Dawn they were sitting in their cave doing a grand total of nothing. Today we return to see them sitting in their cave....doing a grand total of nothing!




Chapter 9.8


Mythic Dawn Sanctuary


The 'temple' of the Mythic Dawn posessed an elegance that couldn't be seen from its crude appearance. It was the largest chamber in the sanctuary, blasted out of the rock through the combined efforts of all three Camoran's. But they had employed more than mere brute force. Every casting, every bubbling stream of fire, every crackling blade of thunder, had been tailored to carve out the essentials of a place of worship, making it seem as if the mountain itself had grown the shrine within its heart. They'd coaxed the still halfmolten rock into an elevated platform and upon it an altar. They'd made rows of kneerests for the worshippers to kneel upon, pillars that held pools of slow-burning oil. They'd made all of that and most important of all was the representation of the temple's deity. A statue of Mehrunes Dagon over five metres tall, its four hands reaching over the altar, its brow brushing the ceiling. None of the Camorans were sculptors and the stone figure bore only the vaguest resemblance to the Daedric Prince, but they'd taken care that none of the Dawn were knowledgable enough to point out the flaws.


It was now almost an hour since the last service had ended. The faitful had left to tend to their duties and sacrificial blood cooled and coagulated in the groove running from the altar to the statue. And yet the priestess remained, dagger still in hand. Words repeated themselves in her mind and she shivered at the memory of her tongue moving on its own.
"Do not deny me!"
She reflected that it had been a good thing she'd sent the acolytes away before actually summoning the Daedric prince. The brutish and indiscriminate nature of the real Dagon was not in any way like what the prophet had made them believe.


Do not deny me. The words were the last in a long series of similar threats Dagon had made her speak all the times she had summoned him. But today they held more meaning than before. Today their father wasn't around to placate him and Uriel yet lived. Their plans were unravelling before her eyes and she couldn't think of anything to save them.


She remembered the dagger in her hand and laid it down on the the altar, next to the Khajiit she'd killed and whose heart she'd offered for the summoning.
"At least we no longer have to turn over every tenthpiece to buy the furballs. That should please my brother." She thought, and then, "He must hear this."




Raven was exactly where she'd left him. If he'd moved at all, it hadn't been much. He was still buried in the same stack of books, scrolls and loose pages which he read and reread over and over. Occasionally he rubbed his tired eyes, or reached for the cold coffee at his side. Even his thoughts were still the same, as evidenced by the absentminded greeting he gave her.
"I have said all I intend to say, Ruma. Please, don't bother me any further. I am quite busy."

The Altmeri woman bristled at the idea that Raven still believed she only cared about Harrow. While the man was important to her, as a rare source of comfort and companionship, she was a true Camoran. If needed, she could and would leave him to do her part in securing the family's future. She shoved aside most of the clutter on his desk and put her fists down on it.
“Don't ignore me! Dagon says he’s tired of our pitiful sacrifices and wants to see if we are as good as we say.” She yelled at him, making him reel back. He looked at her, then at the bloody palm prints she'd left all over his desk and documents. Then he sighed.


“In other words, he wants more blood and more screaming. What else is new? If he wasn’t so easy to manipulate, I would have spoken against aligning ourselves with the Prince of Destruction.”


Ruma wondered if she'd gone too far. Raven needed to be told, but was it worth destroying whatever he'd been working on? No, she decided. She had done the right thing. Raven was like their father, Mankar Camoran, with his desire to have everything planned out and written in paper before he did anything. But sometimes one had to forego planning and play it by ear. Such as now.
"Pay attention, brother. We can't cage his nature with pretty words forever. The honoured user called our bluff. We have to act now." She warned but the other mer reacted as she'd feared, true to his nature.
"Give it some time." He answered her. When she sneered at him, he raised his hand and continued in the same exhausted and disinterested tone of voice.
"One day, Ruma. That is all I ask. If father hasn't returned by then, we’ll make our own choice.”


Ruma was silent as she tried to figure out how she could make him see her way. Raven was a good mer. He was exceedingly smart and driven. Though they'd both been honed by their father into nigh superhuman creatures, masters of many skills that would be considered a lifetime pursuit on their own by lesser beings, they had not profited from this education in equal measure. Her brother had been superior to her in the ways Mankar valued the most. And he knew it. It made persuading him nearly impossible.





She moved to turn away but then the paper she'd rested her hands on drew her attention. Whatever it told, it was now too obscured by Khajiit blood to tell, but the few words she could still see had not been written by her brother, or her father. Raven who had noticed her pause, answered the unasked question.
"Do you remember the simulacra I made and inserted into Cloud Ruler?” He said with a nod to the stained letter.
She remembered only vaguely. All of the shapechanging monsters had been put in their positions years ago, before the Dawn existed. But there was one who had infiltrated the Blades' secret base, putting it right at the heart of the Imperial intelligence network. Meanwhile, Raven continued.
“It chanced to send us word. The emperor arrived at Cloud Ruler a few days before the writing of this letter. First, the general things are as we already expected them to be. The Emperor is paranoid, rightly so. He is always guarded by one and often two of the four he still trusts. Fenasim of the palace guard, and three of the fighting Blades who were being inducted that night"


The Blades. Warriors of almost legendary prowess, each worth as much as the complement of an entire fort. Under the right circumstances, and the Blades were masters at making the right circumstances. Even the simulacra would need the advantage of surprise or superior equipment to overcome one. The thought of having the monster kill the emperor died with Raven's news. She knew that this had been the first thing Raven had considered himself. Given the situation, he would choose to keep the doppelganger as a source of information rather than risk it in another assassination. Besides, the Septim was mostly harmless as long as he was trapped beneath the gletsjer.
“Including the one who nearly murdered Harrow.” Ruma growled. The emperor could stay, but she wanted that man. She wanted him on her altar so that for once, she could enjoy plunging down the ceremonial dagger and tearing out a still beating heart.


“The very same. The other thing we guessed is that the Grandmaster himself has given up his usual carefulness and stormed to Cloud Ruler for answers. What we did not guess however, is that he didn't arrive alone.” She instantly forgot about Harrow. Raven didn't need to elaborate on why this was important. Jauffre rarely went to Cloud Ruler and he always went alone. Even his most trusted bodyguards were left behind. For him to break his own rule could only mean that his mystery companions were now the Dawn's utmost priority. More important than Uriel in any case, who wasn't going to leave the Blade's hideout any time soon. Who were they?


Raven pinched his nose, then admitted that he'd told her everything the letter had said.
“She, actually. And I don’t know. Jauffre’s companion is only described as an elf, most likely wood elf.”
“Most likely?” Ruma repeated the words to herself. The three species of mer in Tamriel were almost impossible to mix up by mistake. The Dunmer were grey and red-eyed, the Altmer universally tall and with a golden tan mere sunlight could not produce. The wood elves, were short and backwards barbarians. That Raven’s simulacra actually harbored doubt was to say the least, troubling. Its mind might be less stable than they’d foreseen. Perhaps it would be best to spend it on an assassination before it degraded entirely.
“Apart from the gender, this woman is one large question-mark. Name, profession, background, age. It’s all a blank. Worst of all, she came carrying nothing but the clothes on her back. Who travels like that?” Raven said and threw up his hands in disgust.


“Someone very confident, brother. Or desperate. Peasants and mighty mages.” Ruma answered. The man shook his head.
"Scratch the peasants. Jauffre makes for a good spymaster, but he doesn't do charity."



Ruma could think of few kinds of people who travelled unencumbered, and even fewer who would be connected to the Blades' Grandmaster. She supposed the woman could be another Blade, someone trusted by Jauffre and brought in to help guard the emperor. Four people was too small a guard detail to maintain for an extended period. But the flaws with that idea were self evident. The only Blades that were beyond suspicion were those who had been stationed far away in other provinces, the ones who had been ignored by the Dawn for being too far from the emperor. But that same remoteness that prevented their replacement with simulacra, now kept them away from where the action was. There simply had not been enough time for Jauffre to summon him or her. And there were no women at the old Breton's usual base of operations.
“Then who, brother?" She asked him, "Have you any idea, or even a guess?”


Raven waved at the bloodied notes scattered on his desk.
“Several," He said, "each more unlikely than the last. The best I can give is that this woman is an up till now unrecognized heir of the big man. I'm sure you see the problems with that hypothesis.”


“A woman, and a wood elf at that? These Cyrodiliics are supremacists. They want their emperors to be Imperial like they are. Of course I see the problems!” Ruma laughed and shook her head. The idea was simply beyond ridiculous, even if it was the best they could come up with.
Even if the Septim claimed the woman took her mother’s features, as was often the case with mixed blood, and even if he managed to sell the Elder Council on accepting his elvish daughter. If! The counts and all the common folk would never accept such a heir.
“And there, Ruma. There you have my problem. She wouldn't function as a heir. Besides, a political pawn is the last thing he needs right now. For the moment Ocato is competant enough to keep the Empire whole and running.”





The woman began to pace back and forth through the room. Her brother was right again. Bringing someone whose value was measured in connections or gold to the remote temple would be counterproductive. What the Septim needed now was a strong arm. But why directly contact this woman? And why only one? Why not hire an entire hall of fighters?
"The question isn't who Jauffre's friend is, but what the Emperor knows." Ruma muttered to herself. The plan had not been for the emperor to survive. But he had and with that survival, came a certain amount of knowledge. Now what did the old man know and what would he do with that knowledge?
"He survived a direct encounter with a simulacrum. And Jauffre has gone to the palace first. So he also knows what you took from the vaults. But other than that, I doubt he knows anything." Raven said with a shrug.


He picked up the stained letter to see if he could save it. When it turned out he couldn't, he began to transcribe it onto a fresh leaflet from memory. In doing so, he gave Ruma more time to think. Time she spend well. Time enough to reach an answer that satisfied her fully.
“Aha! The Eternal Champion!” The sorceress exclaimed at once. Her eyes glittered with pride at having solved a problem her brother could not. Raven however, merely glanced up for a moment before he returned to his work.
“Pray tell, what of the Champion? He has been dead for thirty years. There’s a big mausoleum and annual procession in his honour. We were there at the burial. They even opened the coffin!” He muttered.


It had been the first day of the fifth century, supposedly one day after the defeat of Jagar Tharn the usurper and the restoration of the real Uriel Septim to the throne. The Black Courier had been as efficient as usual at delivering the news throughout the province and even beyond while the mages' transportation services had worked throughout the night to teleport tens of thousands of people from all Tamriel to the capital. It had been a fantastic procession. A thousand bards singing in perfect unison, the entire first legion marching in full ceremonial gear. The coffin, carried on the Septim's golden wagon, was a slab of solid ebony crafted into a seagoing galleon. Figures of gold and silver manned the rigging. At its prow, greater than the others, was one carved from emerald glass. A figure whose features where concealed by a robe, striking a heroic pose. A sword made of diamonds pointed ahead in one hand, the other cradled a staff. There was no room left on the wagon besides the coffin and rather than riding in a second vehicle, the Imperial family, as well as the Elder Council, all walked behind it. If the grandness of the preceding elements hadn't convinced any onlooker of the importance of whoever lay withing the coffin, the humility Tamriel's elite showed by walking through the dust scattered in its wake left no room for doubt.


When they'd actually displayed the fallen hero amidst respectful silence, Ruma had to admit she was dissapointed. The scorched body was smaller than she'd expected and burned to the point it was impossible to tell whether it had been a man or a woman, elf or human. She did think she saw what might have been the base of a tail once. But that had to be an illusion played on her by the distance from which she looked upon it. No beast would ever amount to anything, especially not the greatest hero in history since Tiber Septim.


“I thought the Hand was supposed to be smart." Ruma said, "Tell me, my clever brother. How hard would it be for the Septim to obtain a random corpse and declare it to be the Eternal Champion?”


Raven sighed and put aside his pen. He looked at her for a long time before answering.
“It would have been as simple for him as ordering bread from the baker. But I must warn you, my dearest sister. There is a line between conjecture and wild fantasy, one which you are about to cross. Even assuming that the Eternal Champion lived, why now? Why wasn’t he…she, why wasn’t she involved with the miracle of peace? Or with that business in Vvardenfell recently?”


Ruma let out a sigh of her own. Both incidents where still mostly mysteries, even after all the money and connections their father had thrown at them. The Eternal Champion could have been involved, she may not have been. For all they knew, the Nerevarine and the Champion were the same person, though overwhelming evidence from Morrowind had fixed the reincarnated Dunmeri hero as a Redguard man, not a female mer.


"Uriel has been chased out of his own palace, at the hands of his personal guard no less." She began to explain, "He needs someone who he can send back out into Tamriel. Someone who he knows won't betray him and someone who can't be stopped by any opposition. The Septim will be looking for top-ranked knights, peerless sorcerers and uncatchable thieves. Heroes. Someone who is to a Blade what the Blade is to the regular bread-and-butter thug. And as you said, he knows what we're after.” Ruma grinned and patted the pocket in her robe where she kept an knobbly rod like Raven's. One of the two world-pieces they now posessed.
“So who better to call in than the Eternal Champion? After all, no one has as much experience with the simulacra and the world-pieces as she does. It would also explain your informant’s confusion. Berkman theorized in his treatise that the Champion developed the arts of illusion in response to Tharn’s own. Even today she must be maintaining a veil to hide in obscurity.”




Raven heared her out and presented questions to test her theory but Ruma remained convinced of her theory. In the end the Hand of the Dawn made his verdict.
“I see no flaw with your logic, but it remains farfetched. I think you see connections where there are none. With that said, I learned what we get from underestimating our enemies. It can't do any harm to overestimate the Septim's allies for a change." He said and gestured towards the door, bidding for her to leave and let him work.
"We will proceed with the assumption that the Eternal Champion does indeed still live and has come into play. I’ll have to sketch up some plans for dealing with her. Not to mention find a way to appease Mehrunes Dagon. We simply can't afford to play our hand yet.”


Ruma turned in the dooropening and looked back where Raven was already stacking his endless papers, oblivious to her presence.
“You do that, brother." She whispered with a grimace.
"You fool. You plan and plan. Every minute you spend now, thinking up counters to counters, is a minute the Septim spends acting! I know what must be done and by the Aedra, I will do it."