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]

This took way longer than it should have. So another Angoril part next.


Lycanthropic-Legend: This story still is mostly anti-Daedra and anti-Dagon. I mean, the guy is called Prince of Destruction. I honestly can't think of a way to portray him in a neutral or positive light. But yeah, I wanted to make the Mythic Dawn into more of a mindless horde of cardboard targets for the hero to cleave through. I think I'm managing that well so far.


McBadgere: Renault and Fenasim? Thanks, I'll add them to the list. And I also kinda identify with grumpy old characters. It must be the beards. (Do Altmer even have facial hair?)

mALX: Ah, computer crashes always suck. Even if there is nothing lost and no damage done, you just keep worrying it's gonna break for good!


Anyway, onto Angoril getting some lunchtime.



Chapter 9.9

Kvatch


He missed the eatery at first, even with the sign hanging outside the door. It was one of the guard-towers along the wall, looking identical to its sisters on each side. The same foreboding grey stones stacked atop each other in a massive cylinder and even the banners shared the same wolf's head that was Kvatch's code of arms. The only features that set them apart were the aforementioned sign, the glasscovered firingslits and smoking chimney on the one, and the elevator that supplied the catapult atop the others. It told him both of the wealth the Geydars posessed, and the peace Kvatch had known for quite some time. Any other combination, and the count or his commander of the guard would never have permitted a guard tower to be turned into a diner, especially one so near the main gate.


The inside of the tower was a different story. Though the thick walls made any large alterations impossible, its owners had seen fit to cover up the unsightly stone with fine woodpanelling, lanterns and carvings of the Cyrodiilic landscape. Vines writhed along the ceiling whose flowers spread a nauseatingly sweet smell. It was as if someone had transplanted a part of Fallinesti, the living and mobile treecity of Valenwood, to Kvatch. In fact, that was likely the case, Angoril reflected when the floor reached out with a hundred tendrils to scrub and polish his shoes. He hadn't seen a trained plant like this anywhere else.
"This must be what Tanner meant when he said Bosmeri through and through."


He followed the goldplated signs through the narrow corridor and out a door on the other side of the tower. The actual dining area was a balcony just outside the city walls. There commoner and highborn alike dined around tables, though there seemed to be an invisible divide between the classes. Angoril paid them no significant interest. There were no familiar faces from the old days, and he knew nothing of the new.
"A stranger? I love strangers!" Something tiny rushed in, grabbed him by the sleeve and dragged him to one of the empty tables with more force than he would have believed possible.
"Just plop your shiny butt down here and forget about all your worries! Taendril, this big fella is your type! Give the hunk some fun, would you?!" It yappered and was gone. In its place came an Altmeri woman who sat down opposite him.




He did give the mer the attention she deserved. Garbed in the traditional dress of central Summerset, her face etched just right and her poise nothing short of perfect elegance. Angoril held no illusions regarding her role. She was part of the service, a hostess, there to entertain and make sure the customers kept coming back to spend their coin. She was a professional in acting just the way the customer wanted. He discarded the idea of using simpleminded Tennil on her. She might just see through it. And being in the proverbial den of the wolf, he wasn't going to pull the 'old friend of a relative' card either.
"That was?" He merely asked and pointed at the little Bosmer who ran from one table to another with nary a pause, holding what looked to be three different conversations at the same time.
"That," Taendril remarked with a sweet smile that made his heart flutter for an instant. He pushed down that feeling. "little whirlwind of boundless energy is the lady Geydar, proprietess of this here fine establishment."


He watched the Bosmer, who he now knew was Rajn Treesap/Geydar, rush to an alcove, grab a plate and then dash up to deliver it at the same speed. Was she always this wild? She looked older now that she was in her sixties, with a few graying hairs, but physically she seemed to have the energy of a young child. Even for a Bosmer, it was a bit much.
"And here is your menu, sir. Please ask me anything. And I mean, anything." His own hostess giggled and produced a booklet from somewhere. Angoril idly flipped through the pages without reading it. He doubted he could get anything substantial out of the target herself. Just from this first observation he could see that there was no way, barring obvious magic use, to hold her attention long enough for an indepth conversation. All he could say for now was that she looked happy, and that prying her away from this place would be difficult. And he didn't have a reason for prying her away from anything. Having the wood elf search for the emperor's assassins was an exercise in futility as only a fool would keep wearing a disguise used in a crime once already. And they got too close to success to be fools.


"Alright, I'll bite." He said to the Altmeri in front of him. "What's the secret behind the little one's success? I very much doubt it was her reasoned and well-educated econimical planning."


"A sizable starting capital," Taendril said with the slightest lift of her shoulders. "enough to survive all beginner's mistakes such as taking a loan from the wrong people. How she got that money is anyone's guess. She would tell you she got everything from Uriel Septim's own treasury. Well, most of it."
The page with Argonian meals. From experience, recipes from the Black Marsh were more focussed on removing or neutralizing poisonous ingredients for the health of anyone who wasn't an Argonian with their extra strong stomach-acid, than they were on presenting something edible. He moved on.
"And you don't believe that version." He muttered over the menu.


"Haha, I believe half of it. It is obvious that before this she'd never done an honest day's work in her life. I mean, you should have been here in the beginning. Plenty of nice-sounding ideas, but no idea on how to do anything from cooking to cleaning to drawing in guests. Her husband isn't any better. But that she stole her money from the emperor? No, I don't believe that. She says a lot of things."
That was his key. Taendril loved to gossip, and not because it was her job. He let her talk freely, prodding her only when she trailed off and pretending to weigh each meal offered as if he was an Altmer of the most delicate Summerset bloodlines. What was he looking for? He didn't know himself. Probably nothing, or merely a hint at the past that had gone by him while he meditated in his cell.


"Like that dragon-shaped clasp she keeps over the fireplace. Looks like it's been shoved down an Atronach's throat." He remembered that. It had been his after all.
"Always keep this on you, my students. The Spire guards its heart with neither rest nor mercy. Hold the mark of its master, or perish at its hands."


"Have you seen her man? Looks like a thug, one of those dark elves." He vaguely remembered Aran Geydar. A tall imposing figure, forged by the storms of Red Mountain and battle. With his spear, he knew few equals and in a different time he would have been a Blade. Or a primitive hunter in his tent. Perhaps he had been the one who assembled the Vvardenfell section of the menu, offering ash yams and Kwama eggs stewed in Scrib yelly.


"The plants are wonderful, don't you think? The Bosmer can weave it like a carpet, or train it like a dog. Give them the right carrot, like that crystal ball mounted over the door there..." Her mouth snapped shut as he jumped up, toppling his chair in the process. Angoril stormed to where Rajn Geydar was pirouetting with a full plate. A wave of his hand, and the plate and its dishes went flying towards the horizon.




"You unbelievable idiot! Are you out of your mind?!" The Altmer screamed at her. The air around him crackled and shivered and the viny carpet fled from the murderous heat.
"What in the Nine possessed you to do this?! Did you even care to think first?! Did you stop and think about all the people who bled for it, or did you just see it as a shiny trinket! And for what? Because it is incomplete it is now a harmless piece of junk? Did nobody teach you how to be responsible?! Ten years! Ten years it took me, ten years of trudging through the damndest places! And you treat it like some ornament! You goddamned Pillow!"


His words sputtered in his throat as he had to draw his breath. At this point everyone had scattered as far away from the raging sorceror as they could, either leaning against the railing, or squeezing through the former guard-tower's door. All, that was, but the very target of his anger. Only the Bosmer, who looked positively like a midget to him, had stood her ground. Only the Bosmer seemed unimpressed with the magic that ran out of control before her eyes. Only the Bosmer had the courage to speak in that moment his lungs lacked the capacity to form further rebuke.
"Out. Get out of my home and get lost."


Angoril fellt a hand tighten around his shoulder. Instantly the man's flesh began to sizzle and smoke, but the hand was not withdrawn. He gritted his teeth. How dare anyone interupt him! This was a matter of life and death! He didn't have time for wannabe heroes!
"Come along, sir." The man slurred around the two fangs that protruded from his lower jaw. "Ye can sober up outside. Ya don wan to let ya'r guild hear 'bout dis."


For a moment Angoril's fury subsided enough for his caution to return. He realized that he'd made a massive mistake. Not only had he potentially exposed himself to Rajn, who had all the reason to recognize him and shout it off the rooftops, and not only had he drawn everyone's attention to him. Not only had he possibly brought the mage's guild down on his head with his blatant display of sorcery, but he had also drawn attention to the artifact the little elf had been stupid enough to keep on display as a souvenir. The fact that it was still there suggested that no one had seen it for what it truly was. But now...


Angoril let the bouncer lead him away without putting up any resistance. He was almost, but not quite, thrown out onto the streets. Even the Orc, brave and apparantly immune to pain as he had been, was of a mind to give any reason for the Altmer's anger to reignite. Standing on the streets and aware that he should make himself scarce before the gossip left the Eight Provinces, Angoril's stomach found the time right to remind him that he hadn't ordered anything in the end.
"Bosmer!"