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> The Story of Trey- Chapter 4
treydog
post Aug 15 2015, 03:49 PM
Post #1


Master
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Joined: 13-February 05
From: The Smoky Mountains



Chapter 4


I needed a drink, I needed a lot of life insurance, I needed a vacation, I needed a home in the country. What I had was a coat, a hat, and a gun.

Farewell My Lovely
Raymond Chandler


My mind swirled with thoughts of the "Emperor's plans for me" versus an anonymous death on a lonely road somewhere, so I settled in to mix and measure and distill potions. As always, the concentration required for alchemy calmed me. I also took a quiet pride in the fact that my homemade concoctions were getting better- more effective and longer-lasting. I had become a thief through necessity; I was an alchemist by vocation. Relaxed by my labors, I went to sleep, only to be awakened by the crash of someone tripping over my equipment. Shaking off sleep, I thought,

"If one of those clumsy mages has damaged my alchemy apparatus wandering around in the dark..."

By then, I was awake enough to see that it was not a mage, but an assassin, whose dagger had a sticky yellowish substance coating the blade. Poison! With a shout, I rolled from the bed, pulling my sword from beneath the pillow. As I had feared, the Dark Brotherhood had sent a more competent killer for this second attempt. In addition, his poisoned blade needed only to make a small wound to cause serious harm. Although my sword was heavier and could do more physical damage with a successful blow, he was striking me two times for every one I managed. The assassin was quick as a striking serpent, darting inside my guard to stab or slice and then dancing away before I could counter. The poison was a fire in my veins, racing toward my heart, slowing my movements. I had left some of the healing potions I had made on the table; I managed to dodge behind it and down a couple in the interval that bought me. The blessed coolness of magical healing came over me, quenching the poison and closing the bleeding wounds. That made all the difference, for my opponent had no way of repairing the damage he had taken. The blood loss had finally weakened him, and I was able to strike more effectively. Sensing that he was about to launch a suicidal attack that would end both our lives, I distracted him by throwing an empty bottle at his face with my left hand. Even the best-trained fighter will try to duck, and he did, only to meet my blade. With that, it was done and I had time to consider.

First, I needed to think about who had sent the Dark Brotherhood after me. They were from "back home" on the continent, which pointed to an Imperial client, rather than someone from Vvardenfell. Besides, it was my understanding that the Dunmer Great Houses would use the Morag Tong for this sort of thing. The fact that I had started working for Caius seemed to eliminate the Emperor as a suspect; I had initially thought the first attack was the unspoken "or else" to accompany, "work for the Blades...." The Camonna Tong wouldn't use an "outlander" organization to do their killing- in fact, they would probably do it themselves. No one else whose toes I had trod on had the kind of money or influence to use the Dark Brotherhood. It was a mystery, and one I would have to solve eventually. But one thing was immediately clear- I was going to have to find somewhere more remote to sleep. The mages had not helped me or even come to see what the commotion was about. Maybe the assassin had cast a Silence spell just before he attacked. Regardless, both attempts had taken place in the Mages Guild, so I wouldn't be sleeping there anymore.

The other thing I could do was convert the late assassin's gear into cash. My Caldera buyer wouldn't ask any questions, even if he was curious about where the armor came from. Better still, he paid full price. Between that and the 1000 drakes from Sugar-Lips, I could probably afford better alchemy apparatus. I still wouldn't be able to get Grandmaster quality, assuming I could even find it, but even Master level would improve my work significantly. If I starting making a few items for sale, I could even recover my investment. And that was my ultimate goal- to get enough money to be left alone- or to at least make it too troublesome for people to bother me.

After taking care of those chores, I should probably talk to Caius or Sugar-Lips about a job or two that would get me out of Balmora. In fact, it might be a good idea to follow Ajira's advice and look up Edwinna Elbert at the Ald-ruhn Mages Guild. I could also consider finishing the pilgrimages for the Temple. Even though I wasn't going to run anymore, neither was I going to paint a target on my back and just sit still. As sleep was no longer an option, I put my plan into effect immediately. With the dead assassin's gear in my pack, I had the guild guide transport me to Caldera. As I passed through the Caldera Mages Guild, Folms Mirel reminded me that there were still a number of propylon indices to find. In fact, he noted that he had just received word that a pilgrim had left the Falasmaryon index as an offering at the Temple shrine in Maar Gan. He added, "That shouldn't present a problem for an enterprising adventurer like yourself." I might have resented the implication that I was a thief, except for the fact that it was true.

Finally, I settled on updating my alchemy equipment and working on a better Chameleon spell with Estirdalin- preferably one that might last 30 seconds or more. Next, I went to see Sugar-Lips, who had some disturbing news. She mentioned that the Camonna Tong had been making threats recently, which was nothing new. What was new was that some of the threats were about "that Breton n'wah who had the nerve to steal from Camonna Tong territory in Hla Oad." Apparently I hadn't gotten away from Fatleg's as cleanly as I thought. And even though Phane Rielle had gotten the official bounty removed, Camonna didn't care about "official." It looked like it was time to settle this issue permanently. I already had the Dark Brotherhood dogging me; someone or something sending me weird dreams; and that didn’t even consider the Dunmer "Sleepers" who kept telling me to bow down to Dagoth Ur.

If I happened to do a favor for Captain Larrius Varro at the same time as I got Camonna Tong off my back, that was a price I was willing to pay. After all, I admired the Captain's show of intelligence and good taste in asking me to handle the problem for him. Before I dove in headfirst, it would be wise to think this thing through. There were at least five Camonna Tong in the Council Club. Regardless of my new skills and toughness, that was a lot to handle by myself. Then, too, there was the issue of the bounty. I really didn't want to have to pay blood price for all that Camonna scum, so I couldn't just walk up and start flailing around with my sword. If I played it carefully, I could cut a few of them out of the crowd one at a time and push them into attacking me first. It may be hard to imagine, but some people found me annoying. All I had to do was play on the Camonna's hatred of foreigners and what some perceived as my natural obnoxiousness. After that it would be, "I don't know why it happened, Officer. I was minding my own business, having a drink, and the guy attacked me. I had to defend myself."

With that in mind, I went to the Eight Plates and bought a bottle of shein. As I made my way to the Council Club, I uncorked the bottle and swished some of the liquor around in my mouth, then spit it out. Next, I splashed a liberal amount on my clothing and dumped about half of the rest onto the ground. With that, I staggered into the Council Club, singing at the top of my lungs. Just inside the door stood Thanelen Velas, the Camonna smith. And he was alone. Cutting off my song, I threw a friendly arm around the startled Dunmer and slurred,

"It's my birthday, pal. Here. Have a drink."

As I breathed, "Here" into his face, I waved the jug wildly, "accidently" splashing him with some of the foul stuff. Already annoyed by my mere presence, Velas called me a series of rude names and wrenched out from under my arm.

"Aw, here now, Elfie," I protested, "that shein makes a nice cover for your usual smell."

With that, I ostentatiously held my nose. "You'd think some of your Camonna friends would tell you," I added helpfully.

That pushed the smith beyond rational thought. With an inarticulate scream, he pulled a Dwemer war axe and swung wildly. It took all my control to stand still and let him draw first blood, but I wanted as good a case for self-defense as I could get. After he hacked my raised left arm, I pulled my sword and soon found myself in a fight for my life. Partly, it was that Velas was tough. Then there was that axe, which did serious damage on every hit. He even managed to knock me down a couple of times. As I looked up from that perspective, I noticed something- he was a Dunmer with red hair, worn in a row, using a Dwemer war axe. Where had I heard that description before? Again, my healing potions literally saved my life; Velas had me in trouble several times before I could finish him. That fight showed me that I was going to need a better sword if I was to survive. Tarhiel's Sparksword was fine for rats and hounds, but it just didn't pack enough punch against a good opponent. After relieving him of the axe and a few gold, I got out of there. It was the first time I had deliberately set out to kill someone, and I wasn't sure how I felt about it.

As much to soothe my conscience as anything else, I decided to talk with Ralen Hlaalo's maid to confirm my suspicion that Velas was the murderer she had seen. She immediately recognized the axe and my description and told me I should see Nileno Dorvayn at the Hlaalu Council Hall. I had never been in the Council Hall before, even though Balmora was Hlaalu territory. It hadn't seemed like a good idea to draw the attention of a Great House. When I explained my presence to Nileno, she was impressed. She said,

"Even though you are not a member of any House, you brought the murderer to justice."

She gave me 1000 drakes as a reward and promised to make sure House Hlaalu knew of my deed. She even offered to put in a good word for me if I wanted to join the House. The reward was nice, but I somehow felt as though it were tainted. No matter how I tried to convince myself that the Camonna Tong was a threat, that it was them or me, I didn't like the way I had goaded Velas into the fight. Always before, I had been attacked directly; this time, I started it. Worst of all, I knew it wasn't over. There were four more Camonna Tong members left. Even if I managed to defeat them all, I didn't think I would feel like a winner. And I wasn't sure there was enough water in all Tamriel to make me feel clean again.


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The dreams down here aren't broken, nah, they're walkin' with a limp...

The best-dressed newt in Mournhold.
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treydog
post Aug 29 2015, 05:29 PM
Post #2


Master
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Joined: 13-February 05
From: The Smoky Mountains



@McBadgere- I know- hard to understand where Trey would get the idea that people find him annoying…. The deaths, even the “necessary” ones, have shaped Trey’s life- and the one he tried to impose on Athlain in later years….

@hazmick- The assassination attempts are definitely based on a misunderstanding- and a form of liquid refreshment plays a role in the resolution. However, that is all described in a different story…

@Everyone- Between work and aliens in my head (otherwise known as either a sinus infection or a cold), I missed last week's installment. But here I am again to torture you provide more of Trey's story. Thanks as always for reading.

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After the business with Thanelen Velas, the Camonna Tong smith, I felt a need for the sort of cleansing that soap and water cannot provide. As I looked over my library, seeking answers that would most likely have to come from within, my eye fell upon The Pilgrims Path. I had never completed the pilgrimage of the Seven Graces; other "opportunities" had distracted me. Although I still had my doubts about religion, I could use any help that was offered. Besides, the pilgrimage would get me out of Balmora for a time, and the uproar (if any) over Velas' death could die down. The fact that Velas had been revealed as the murderer of Ralen Hlaalo might help keep Camonna from making any direct attacks on me. On the other hand, I was now known as the person who had brought Hlaalo's killer "to justice." I was becoming a lot more conspicuous than I would have liked. A pilgrimage was just the thing to get me out of sight and let other events take people's attention away from "Trey, Instrument of Justice." Although I had a highly-developed- if warped- sense of honor, that particular title tasted like vinegar on my tongue.

As I sorted through my gear deciding what to take and what to leave behind (I really didn't want to repeat the tomb business), I realized that I had accumulated a number of charged soul-gems. At the time, I had merely soul-trapped some creatures with a vague idea that the charged gems could be another method of generating income. Now, the fights with the assassin and Velas prominent in my memory, I decided to try a little enchanting. The concept of enchanting is simple- success is not. The idea is that the mage will take a charged soul-gem and an item that can be enchanted and combine them, along with a known spell, to create an enchanted item. My plan was to take the silver sword from the Puzzle Canal and imbue it with fire damage. Although I only had weak souls, mostly cliff-racers, I could still perhaps double the effective damage of the sword. The other method would have been to give Galbedir the gem, the sword, the spell, and a pile of gold to do the enchantment for me. I didn't like the idea of paying someone to do something I could manage for myself; besides, a lack of money had gotten me into all this in the first place. Anyway, I decided that using the low-value soul-gems would be good practice. And practice was what it turned out to be; I used up five soul-gems before I got a cast-when-strikes fire damage enchantment onto the sword. Maybe I forgot to mention that an attempt at enchanting, even if it fails, uses up the soul-gem. That's why most people pay the steep price for guaranteed success by using an enchanter. Still, even though I wouldn't necessarily want to take my new enchanted blade up against a Dremora, I was pleased that I had managed it myself. That feeling of pride dictated my choice of pilgrimage- I would go to the Fields of Kummu and accomplish the Grace of Humility. That sort of perverse logic always made sense to me.

Perhaps more to the point was the fact that the shrine was on the shores of Lake Amaya, an area known for a plentiful supply of plants with alchemical properties. I was always a strong believer in making an excursion pay for itself if possible. Meanwhile, Tarhiel's sparksword went into the cabinet with my iron saber and books. Leaving Balmora, I turned south, planning to learn something of humility or at least to gather some ingredients. I am not sure the trip itself taught me anything, but it certainly decreased the rat population of the Ascadian Isles region of Vvardenfell considerably. I wasn't sure if "Trey, Rat-Catcher" was a better title than the other. I was able to locate the shrine without difficulty and donated the suggested portion of muck. In return, I received a blessing of Feather, which would have come in handy earlier when I was hauling half the Imperial Library around with me. With that much of my goal accomplished, I decided to explore the area around Lake Amaya.

During my exploration, I came across a Bosmer pilgrim named Thoronor who had become separated from his companion, Edras Oril. It seemed that Edras, who was somewhat of an amateur naturalist, had gone off to investigate some strange animal sounds. While I have been known to get overly focused on learning new things, I generally view "strange animals sounds" as a signal to build up the fire and sharpen my blade, not a cue to wander off into the night. Nevertheless, as we seemed to share a love of knowledge, I agreed to search for the missing dark elf. As I worked my way along the path in the direction indicated by Thoronor, I became aware of a series of grunts and other noises. Moving more cautiously, I came upon a book lying on the ground; the penmanship and the surrounding tracks indicated that whoever had lost the volume had been startled by several large animals. Closer examination proved that this was the journal of Edras, complete with observations on the mating habits of wild kagouti. I could have told the would-be scientist that the best way to observe kagouti was with a telescope or from a tall tree. All too soon, I had my own chance to observe the truth of the passage in Edras' journal that indicated that "Mating kagouti (are) increasingly territorial." I made short work of the three or so that attacked me and found Edras hiding among some trees. When I assured him that the kagouti were no longer a threat, he was happy to walk back to Thoronor with me. He expressed no interest in his journal, so I wondered if he had decided on a different career. As a reward for my assistance, the two pilgrims gave me an Amulet of Slowfalling, a valuable item for one in my line of work, especially if I got into the habit of jumping from high places.

As darkness was falling, I sought out a campsite that would be difficult to approach unnoticed. I finally settled in a dry wash, filled with small stones that would roll underfoot. Having cleared the rocks from a space just sufficient for my body, I prepared to spend a fireless night in the wilderness. A campfire is a wonderful source of warmth and comfort, and it is also useful for keeping wild beasts at bay. Unfortunately, some wild beasts go about on two feet and carry swords. For that variety, a campfire is a beacon that says, "Come, kill me and take my gear." So, hunted man that I was, a fire was out of the question. Ultimately, I could have slept in greater comfort for all the difference my cold camp made. In fact, I might just as well have been in bed at the Mages Guild, for the third Dark Brotherhood assassin to attack me tripped over some stones at the edge of my hiding place, awakening me in a surge of adrenalin. My enchanted sword proved its effectiveness and I had collected another complete set of Dark Brotherhood armor. Although it was a way to make money, I couldn't really recommend it on a risk versus reward basis. One of these days, they were going to send two or three or a dozen at once, and it would be my head that got collected. This also told me that it wasn't the Mages Guild or even Balmora that was the problem. Anywhere I laid my head, they would find me. Among the more fantastic (or so they had seemed) stories about the Dark Brotherhood was one that claimed they could locate a target anywhere in Tamriel through the use of some dark ritual. Apparently it was more than just a story. With that in mind, I used Recall to go back to the Balmora Mages Guild. Caius hadn't been interested when I tried to tell him about the attacks before. This time, he would either come up with some advice or else tell the Emperor that they needed to find a new errand boy.

Determined to get some help with the ongoing attacks by the Dark Brotherhood, I went to Caius' house and entered without bothering to knock. Before he had a chance to say anything, I pulled a Dark Brotherhood helm out of my pack and shook it at him.

"This is serious," I snarled, "and you are going to treat it as such or else tell the Emperor to let me go my own way. I'm either a member of the Blades or I'm not- you decide. But if I am, you owe me some help."

To his credit, Caius actually took some time to think the problem through. Finally he said,

"You probably won't like the answer, but it's the best I can do. You should go to Fort Moonmoth and talk to one of the guards. They work a different side of the street than the Blades. If they can't or won't help you, let me know. We have too much invested in you to let some assassins kill you."

I wondered about that last statement, but the spymaster wouldn't say anything more. He did ask me if I felt like doing something useful while I wasn't dodging assassins. He added that the job would get me out of Balmora. As he had actually made an effort to be helpful, I felt obliged to perform more duties for the Blades. Besides, I hated being indebted to anyone.

The job was more information-gathering regarding the Nerevarine Prophecies and the Sixth House. This time, there were three people to talk to, all in Vivec City. The first was a Khajiit thief named Addhiranirr, who could usually be found somewhere in St Olms canton. Next was Huleeya, an Argonian assassin who frequented the Black Shalk Corner Club in the Foreign Quarter. The final informant was a Tribunal Temple priestess named Mehra Milo, who worked in the library inside the Hall of Wisdom. Caius stressed that I needed to be really careful about talking to Mehra- the Temple didn't like to admit that those other cults even existed. In spite of the warning, he gave me written instructions on how to find the three subjects. I stifled the impulse to ask him what I was supposed to do with the written directions if an Ordinator started to question me; I had a feeling Caius' patience with me was a little thin and he would tell me exactly what I could do with the instructions. So instead, I mentioned that I had been having some odd dreams. That actually set him off more than my threatening to quit.

"Look," he said, "the Temple figures that if you are having strange dreams, you're crazy. So they lock you up. And if you believe the dreams, they figure you're a prophet, so they lock you up. Do NOT tell anyone you are having dreams. Keep it to yourself."

With that cheerful advice and 200 gold "for expenses," I took my leave and went to see if Sugar-Lips might have a paying job that would take me out of town, as well. My luck was better than usual- not only did she have a job, she had a job in Pelegiad, which was on the way to Vivec. Of course, my luck hadn't completely changed- what she needed was a jailbreak. Before I could protest too much, she explained that there was a slick way to do it that would allow me to accomplish the mission without risking a bounty. It seemed that a Thieves Guild member named New-Shoes Bragor had gotten picked up in Pelegiad. One of his jailers, an Orc named Shadbak gra-Burbug, was known to take bribes from a local trader for ignoring the smuggling of Dwemer artifacts. All I needed to do was get an artifact from the trader and threaten to expose Shadbak. His other choice would be to drop the charges against New-Shoes and let him go. That sort of jailbreak I could handle. Feeling that things were finally working out, I made my way up to Fort Moonmoth. It was strange to actually seek out an Imperial Legion guard, but I had to do something about the attacks. The guard captain listened to my description of the assassins and cleverly deduced that they were Dark Brotherhood, which I knew already. He did have some useful advice though- the person to talk to was Apelles Matius, who had just arrived in Ebonheart to begin an inspection tour. That was more good news- Ebonheart was close to Vivec. When everything seems to be working out perfectly, get very nervous. Either you have overlooked something or else something bad is about to happen- or more likely, both.


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The dreams down here aren't broken, nah, they're walkin' with a limp...

The best-dressed newt in Mournhold.
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