The Tale of Sudhendra Vahl: Every Day a Walk In The Park... Options

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The Tale of Sudhendra Vahl: Part Seven

Darius, according to Master Demnevanni, ran his office out of the Madach Tradehouse in Gnisis. So, after translocating there after breaking my fast, I made my way into the lower half of the “shell” that comprised the Tradehouse. Darius was short, stocky, and clad in gorgeous armour – all gilded metal with a flowing red cape. He looked up at me and said, “So, you want to join the Legion do you Citizen Vahl? Well, it’s true that we have a shortage of Manpower ~ and Merpower for that matter. You look capable enough. Tell me, are you capable of following orders?”

“Excellent,” he said when I assured him I was. “It’s a Mer’s life in the Legion. Every day a walk in the park, every meal is a banquet, every pay check a fortune. It’ll make a Ma... Mer of you. Right, Recruit Vahl, here is your regulation-issue chain cuirass. You will wear it when you address a superior officer, do I make myself clear?”

“Yes… sir,” I replied.

Darius shook his head. “The first and last word I want to hear out of your mouth when you address me is ‘Sir’. Now sound out like you got a pair. Do you understand me?”

“Sir, yes Sir,” I said in a clear voice, desperately trying to ignore the sniggering Orc in the corner of the room.

“Outstanding,” he said. “Now get that cuirass on and I’ll give you your orders.

“You might be wondering,” he said once I’d got the chain cuirass in place, “why I am billeted in the Tradehouse? Well, it’s because we have no room to expand. The widow Vabdas has a parcel of land the Legion needs to expand. I want you to come back to me with the deeds as quickly as possible. Is that understood?”

“Sir, yes Sir,” I replied, turning to march out of the room. As I went up the stairs, I heard General Darius addressing the Orcish Trooper, “gro-Khazor, what is your major malfunction?”

Vabdas had a house just west of town, out past Arvs-Drelen, so it wasn’t difficult to get to. Her reaction, when I spoke to her about the land-deed was to slap me across the face ~ hard. I suppressed the spells that roared into my mind and, speaking carefully, said, “you would be wise not to do that again.”

“Why?” she snapped, and now I could see the tears in her eyes. “Because you’ll kill me like you did Mansilamat?”

“I assure you ma’am,” I told her, “I had no part in the death of Mansilamat. Tell me what happened…” Bit by patient bit, I dragged the story from her. It seems that her husband, the aforementioned Mansilamat, had gone to the Egg-Mine at Gnisis to get some eggs. There, according to the widow, the Legion had killed her husband.

As I walked back towards Gnisis, I reflected that whatever power controls my life has an infinite capacity for capriciousness. What should have been the simple acquisition of a deed to some land had now become a murder investigation. Of course, that was how General Darius saw it and he told me to obtain proof that the Legion had been involved. Fortunately, the guard at the door of the Egg-Mine proved amenable to my charming behaviour and, after checking that there was nobody watching, he gave me the key to the door.

There was a familiar stink about the mine, one that I remembered from the Mudan-Mul Mine. Drawing my sword, I advanced with some care. Fortunately, whatever was blighting the mine was confined to the lower quarters and the Scribs in the upper chambers were not aggressive. I wish the same could be said of Trooper gro-Ogdum. The Orc gave me a three count to get the Oblivion out of the area he was guarding. As quickly as I could, I chose one of the passages and headed off down it. From up ahead I could hear the drip-drip of water and a strange noise ~ like wind. As I rounded the corner, I came upon the source of the sound. There, in the middle of the passage, was an Ancestral Spirit.

“Hear me Mortal,” it moaned, as I made ready to swing my sword, “Stay your hand ~ I am Mansilamat Vabdas, I was murdered, most foully, by the Orc Lugrub gro-Ogdum. I beg you, avenge me…” The last syllable was drawn out as the spectre faded from view. I knew that the word of an apparition would carry no weight with General Darius: I needed more proof. I found it in the depth of the pool nearby ~ the corpse of Mansilamat and a notched Imperial axe.

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Making my way across the ice this morning, I came to the area where the column of flame was rising. Oddly, it generated no warmth even though the ice underneath the pillar had melted. Lacking a water-breathing potion, I had to get to the bottom of Lake Fjalding the old fashioned way ~ holding my breath and diving in. swimming down through the icy-cold water I spotted the entrance to a cave and swam into the dark opening. The short, upward-sloping passage way led to a small chamber hacked out of the ice.

Given that this Aesliip was Lord of the Draugr, it wasn’t surprising to discover these ice-caverns were filled with the creatures. Fortunately they don’t seem to have mastered the knack of magic or weapons and, while they kick really hard, they are more a nuisance than a threat. The Blodskal hummed contentedly as it cleaved air and corrupted flesh with equal ease. Before too long I’d run out of opponents and I was free to explore the caverns. There wasn’t much to explore, a few side passages led to what appeared to be sleeping chambers while another passage wound into raw rock and ended in an entrance to another series of caves.

“Come to kill me?” a soft voice hissed as I rounded a corner. I jerked to a stop, looking at the Draugr that stood in front of me. Unlike the other creatures, the light of intelligence burned in those deep-set red eyes. “If so, why?”

“If you are Aesliip, that is what I was sent here to do,” I replied, “and you know damn’ well why.”

“Indulge me,” the creature said.

“Because you created that column of fire on the surface of Lake Fjalding,” I responded.

“Not I,” Aesliip hissed, “that is no doing of mine. The Frost Daedra who gather below, possibly.”

“What Frost Daedra?” I asked.

“I am, as you have correctly surmised, Aesliip,” the Draugr said. “I was a powerful Shaman but my interests turned to the Dark Arts and I was cast out by my people. Those same Dark Arts have kept me alive for many centuries,” the creature added with a touch of pride. “Now I have learned of a convocation of Daedra gathering in the caves below us. The column of fire cannot be a coincidence.

“I tried to warn the Skaal,” Aesliip continued, “but they wouldn’t listen. I fear these Daedra seek to establish dominance over the island and make it their own. I could,” Aesliip concluded, “use some help in defeating them.”

When I hesitated, Aesliip bared needle-sharp fangs in what I assume was a smile. “Look at it this way,” it said, “if I lie you can kill me ~ or try to, anyway. And, if I’m telling the truth you can help me defeat the Daedra and then try to kill me. Either way, you end up the winner.”

It made a certain sort of sense and I decided that I should help Aesliip to deal with the Daedra. “Excellent,” the Draugr hissed, “then follow me and I will show you the hidden ways into the caverns beneath these.”

The tunnels were vast and labyrinthine, odd chambers and twisted passages leading off the main passageway down to small empty chambers. Although, as I was to discover, not all chambers were empty. Aesliip had been correct when he said that there were Frost Daedra down here. The Wish proved to be an effective weapon, its fire-based charms dealing great amounts of damage to the frosty creatures that filled these caves. Aesliip was of great help, his magical skills proving sufficient to tip the balance of a fight in my favour on more than one occasion. One by one, the Frost Daedra (of which there were eight, Aesliip informed me) fell before the odd pairing of Mer and monster. At the last, we came unto a large chamber where there was a final Daedra. Knowing that the fight was near and end, and that Aesliip would soon provide answers, I threw myself into battle with renewed eagerness. The Wish, it’s charge depleted, had since been replaced by the Blodskal. While the enchantments on the blade were not a fierce as those on the ancient Dwemeri axe, the blade was easier to wield and its superior cutting edge meant it did more damage. As I delivered the final blows to the Daedra, I noticed that Aesliip had stopped casting spells. As the demon fell, I turned and saw that the Draugr Lord was swaying on its feet.

“I’ve lived up to my side of the bargain,” I said, “now tell me how I might extinguish the flame these Daedra created, or has killing them put it out anyway?”

“I lied,” Aesliip hissed, slumping against the walls of the tunnel. “The Daedra were not the cause of the flames you saw, nor was I responsible. What caused it I have no idea.”

I snarled, hefting the Blodskal threateningly. There was a flash of needle-sharp teeth again and the Draugr Lord said, “stay your hand; the tale of Aesliip ends this day. I have lived many years, odd to think that the morrow will see only my corpse. Here, take this ~ my ring I give to you. Oh my…” The light behind those reddened eyes faded as Aesliip breathed his last. I looked at the ornate brass and silver ring the Draugr Lord had given me, it crackled with power. Probing it carefully, I discovered that it performed many of the same functions as The Mentor’s Ring; only Aesliip’s ring was far, far more powerful.

I made my way back up through the tunnels of this underground maze until I came to the shimmering barrier that separated here from there. I understood, now, that the barrier wasn’t a physical one; rather it was a… division, a doorway. Where I now stood, in these icy caverns, was not part of Tamriel but part of that void we call Oblivion. Stepping forward, I felt the same subtle shift that I had before and knew that I was once more in the Grey Maybe. A search of the caves that had been home to Aesliip turned up a small quantity of golden coins and a staff. Plain silver, it bore a single design ~ the name ‘HAAKON’ inscribed in ornate characters at the top of the staff. Swinging the staff around to feel the balance, I inadvertently let the end strike the icy wall of the cave.

A chunk of ice broke away and a cascade of glittering jewels came pouring from Aesliip’s hidden cache. Rubies, emeralds, sapphires, diamonds ~ there were easily a dozen of each. With a grin at my sudden and unaccustomed lucky break; I scooped the stones into a leather pouch before leaving the caverns and swimming back to the surface.

“Ye didnae succeed then,” Korst said as I clambered out of the water and dried myself off. The dancing flames of the column of fire were reflected in his eyes as he spoke. With a cough, I pointedly picked up my clothing. He blinked and turned an interesting shade of red before turning his back. Shivering in the bitter wind, I removed the sodden shirt and pants before slipping into the dry clothes. While they were cold from having been left on the beach, they quickly warmed up. Buckling the belt around my fur jacket, I spoke to Korst about what had transpired.

“I met Aesliip beneath Lake Fjalding,” I said. “But he was not responsible for the flames. With Aesliip, I fought some frost Daedra who sought to seize control of Solstheim, but they were not responsible for the flames either. Both Aesliip and the Daedra are dead, yet the flames continue to burn.”

“As I feared,” Korst sighed. “Return ye tae the village Vahl Dark Elf an’ I there will join you as I may. There are things here that investigation need first, then words we will have.” Nodding to Korst, I made my way up the hill and through the Skaal village to the Great Hall. There I spoke to Tharsten Heart-Fang, repeating the things that I’d told Korst. He congratulated me.

“E’en though ye nae completed the task Korst set for ye, ye have proven a doughy warrior.” He continued, saying, “there be no doubt that ye have passed the trial of strength. In that wise, there is but one last task I wish ye tae…”

Whatever task Tharsten was going to give me, the description of it was interrupted by a long, eerie howl. From outside the Great Hall there came screams, shouts, and a bestial snarling. Almost without thinking, I dropped my hand to the hilt of the Blodskal and turned towards the door. “Go!” Tharsten roared, racing across the hall to grab his axe. Whipping the blade from its scabbard, I kicked open the doors and raced outside.