The Story of Trey- Chapter 5 Options

[treydog]

How do we forgive our Fathers?
Maybe in a dream
Do we forgive our Fathers for leaving us too often or forever
When we were little?
…
If we forgive our Fathers, what is left?

Dick Lourie, from How Do We Forgrive Our Fathers in Ghost Radio

The only reason I knew that I had been born during Frostfall was an entry at the local Temple of Kynareth having to do with my mother's burial. Under 3E 408, the chronicle stated: "Riassa, Breton hedge witch. Died in childbed, Frostfall. Male child, healthy. Father unknown. Child placed with Greldig and wife, at Foaming Flagon Inn." I only learned that much after I had learned to read and do simple sums. Then, when I turned 15 (as I was able to determine from the dates in the chronicle), the powers of my birthsign began to manifest themselves. I was able to open locked doors with a touch and to sense the locations of creatures, keys, and enchanted items. The alchemist who taught me my letters explained the significance of these abilities and confirmed that my sign was The Tower. There were no "official" celebrations of my birthdays, of course. After I learned the proper month, I would treat myself to a gift - usually a potion made from local plants, or a book if the peddler happened to have one I hadn't read- bartered for some of those same potions. It was not until much later that I was to find that the exact date of my birth, precise even to the hour, was known. In fact, it was known to none other than Uriel Septim VII, himself. As for information about my (probable) father, that came from the inn-keeper, usually when he referred to me as, "You bastard son of a thieving bard." Apparently, I was following in my father's footsteps when I took the contents of the cash-box and disappeared into the night.

Once I learned of my birth month, it became my habit to spend part of my "birthdays" planning, dreaming, considering my past and future. So, as the first day of Frostfall dawned, I considered the past year, particularly the last couple of months. I had come far since I took that nap in the park in the Imperial City- both geographically and in terms of professional advancement. I was in good standing in a couple of guilds; I had joined the Tribunal Temple; and had been "volunteered" into the Blades. Somehow, it wasn't enough. Even if I had friends in those factions, I was mostly just another worker. And with advancement in the guilds would come responsibility. If I advanced too far, I would rarely be able to get out in the world. Thieving was a game for a young man- I could continue for many years, but my reflexes and eyesight would betray me some day. It was also clear to me that I should expect to be in Morrowind for a long time to come. When I was first hustled off the boat in Seyda Neen, I had assumed that I would be able to go home in a few years. But where was home, now? Certainly not the inn in High Rock. Perhaps I could become one of those eccentric old alchemists who lived in a tower in the wilderness and blew things up about once a week. But that sounded awfully lonely. Home was supposed to be the place where you had family, where people were sorry to see you go and happy to see you return. As I reviewed all the bits and pieces I had heard about Morrowind, I remembered that the Great Houses sometime adopted "outlanders" and considered them the same as blood-kin. The idea of being part of a family brought a strange lump to my throat- I had been many things in my short life, but "family" had never been one of them.

If I were to join a Great House, I would need to think it through carefully. You could only ever have your name entered in the lists of one House; even if you were later expelled, the others were forever closed to you. Through conversations with Caius and others, I had gleaned this much- Hlaalu was the House most closely associated with the Empire. They valued many of the skills that I possessed. House Redoran was the most traditional and most honorable. They were considered a "warrior" house. House Telvanni was composed of ancient wizards, and was considered elitist. Only highly skilled mages should consider attempting membership or advancement. The first thing I decided to do was to narrow it down to two- it would be easier to decide. Although I enjoyed Alchemy, and my Illusion and Mysticism were improving; I was not really a wizard. Also, as I understood it, the Telvanni were mostly based on the eastern side of Morrowind. I had grown somewhat fond of the area around Balmora and Vivec. So- that left Hlaalu and Redoran. Besides their interest in commerce, Hlaalu was reputed to be highly corrupt. In fact, some whispered that House Hlaalu was the real power behind the Camonna Tong. Redoran took their ideas of honor very seriously and applied them rigorously- I had to wonder how an unreformed and unrepentant thief would fit in. As I understood it, to get very far in a Great House, an outlander needed the support of a councilor. The only answer was research- I would find the names of the councilors for the two Houses and talk to them.

The seat of House Hlaalu was Balmora; I had already spoken with Nileno Dorvayn after I had "avenged" Ralen Hlaalo's murder. With that in mind, I recalled back to Balmora and went to the Hlaalu Council Hall to ask about the Great House. Nileno gave me a copy of the Yellow Book of House Hlaalu, which listed the names of the councilors. She also offered to give me the "inside scoop" for a bribe of 50 drakes. I had sold a few excess ingredients to raise money after my book-buying spree, so I paid the graft. My 50 gold bought me the information that Crassius Curio was the councilor to see if I wanted anything. He was located in Vivec, with a manor house at the top of the Hlaalu enclave. House Redoran was based in Ald'ruhn, so I had Masilinie teleport me there. A Redoran guard explained that all the councilors maintained homes or quarters in the Manor District "under Skar." It turned out that Skar was the hollow shell of an absolutely huge "Emperor crab," and that it housed the Redoran Council Hall as well as most of the councilors' manors and the finer shops in Ald'ruhn. The person to talk to was someone named Neminda, who could be found in the Council Hall. She turned out to be a Redguard, who identified herself as a Drillmaster and Recruiter for Redoran. Her manner was somewhat abrupt until I complimented her eyes, after which she warmed up nicely. Perhaps those romance novels were good for something, after all. She gave me a copy of the Red Book of House Redoran, which listed the councilors and their residences. She didn't request a bribe, but did say that Athyn Sarethi would be the best person to talk to about House Redoran. I followed her advice and visited Sarethi Manor. The Redorans were a stiff-necked bunch, but polite and informative. I still wasn't sure how well I would get along with a bunch of warriors and crusaders, so I went to Vivec to see Crassius Curio.

He may have been a powerful councilor in a powerful House, but Crassius was a peculiar fellow. The first thing he said to me was,

"Call me Uncle Crassius."

Odd, but I supposed I could put up with odd. Then he called me "sweetie" and "dumpling." That went beyond odd, straight past peculiar, and over to the extreme side of weird. I had met a few people who I wished would call me pet names- this heavyset Imperial with a beard was not one of them. Although my skills were far more suited to Hlaalu, I just couldn't bring myself to join them. It went beyond Crassius- their association with the Camonna Tong also made me nervous. Then there was their attitude that it was acceptable to do anything to achieve an advantage or make money- including being involved in the slave trade. Even though I was a thief, I had some scruples. For one thing, I wouldn't steal from or plot against my own people. The same couldn't be said for House Hlaalu- I wondered which Hlaalu councilor Ralen Hlaalo had crossed. The avarice and backstabbing of Hlaalu reminded me painfully of the “foster family” I had abandoned in High Rock. After due consideration, I chose House Redoran, even though it would be the harder path. Their concept of honor made more sense to me and I would work to learn the skills they valued. I wanted a chance to prove that not all "outlanders" were Imperial oppressors. Most of all, I wanted a chance to become part of a family for the first time.

[treydog]

Before leaving Ald'ruhn, I purchased a bonemold cuirass. I wanted to improve my House skills and medium armor seemed a good one to work on. It took some getting used to- the bonemold was stiffer than my light armor, but it also felt more substantial. The ash storm was still blowing fiercely as I left Ald'ruhn and attempted to follow Neminda's directions. Fortunately, when I reached the hill country, the wind died down. My new cuirass received a workout, as I was attacked by a number of the nuisance beasts common to the area. At one point, a pack of three nix-hounds rushed me before I was aware of them and I was impressed by the armor's resilience as it turned their clawing attacks. On the other hand, I needed to pay closer attention- not everything would be as "easy" as a nix-hound, and many of these creatures seemed to be carrying one or another disease. I soon began to think that the real test of this mission was just finding Drulene- the landmarks in this region seemed to consist of- "low hill, tree, rock, cliff-racer, another rock, another tree, etc." I was seriously considering leaving a trail of dead cliff-racers so I could retrace my steps. Maps are wonderful- they tend to show you all the places you have already been or that you already know how to find. A map that showed me the places I hadn't been would have been more help. Soon enough, though, I spotted the herder's hut, nestled in a little valley. Guar roamed freely, munching on the various plants. These were quite docile, particularly compared to the wild guar, which seemed to believe they were kagouti or alit.

Drulene was the sort of person you might expect to find out in the back of beyond herding guar- strong, independent, and taciturn. She explained that a couple of large mudcrabs had come up from the southwest and dragged off one of the guar. If that wasn't a joke, they must be big mudcrabs- a guar was about the size and weight of a draft horse. Still thinking this might be some sort of "hazing" or initiation joke, I went toward the coast in the direction Drulene indicated. Soon, I came to a trail where marks indicated that something big had been recently dragged. It had rained earlier, and the marks were fresh. On the bank of a muck pond, I found the dead guar being methodically shredded by the razor-sharp claws of two oversized mudcrabs. Not wanting to get too close, I stayed up the slope and dropped them with arrows. Although the herder had said there were only two, I decided to do a quick scout just to make sure. When I was sure the area was clear, I gathered a few ingredients and headed back to tell Drulene that the mudcrabs were no longer a problem.

She took the news without much reaction, then offered me some hackle-lo. It seemed she had developed a habit of stuffing the shredded leaves, which had a mild stimulant effect, between her cheek and gum. While we were talking, one of the guar playfully bumped me from behind, nearly knocking me sprawling. The beast continued to nuzzle my pack, as if looking for something. Drulene asked if I had any slaughterfish- apparently the ungainly guar loved the taste of fish and would dive into the sea if not watched closely. I figured this was just some good-natured kidding, but it was pleasant, like I was worth teasing- sort of like a younger brother. Pleased with the success of my first mission for Redoran, I headed back to Ald'ruhn to report to Neminda.

The Redoran Drillmaster congratulated me on my success and promoted me to Retainer. She also asked me to deliver a Cure Disease Potion to Theldyn Virith in Ald Velothi. While I was there, she added, I should see if Virith needed me to do anything to help out. Neminda recommended that I take the strider as far as Gnisis and then walk north to Ald Velothi. I followed her advice and it nearly got me killed- but not, as I had feared, by a silt strider.

I would love to describe my first journey by silt strider, but I can't, because I didn't actually see any of it. I kept my eyes closed the whole time. It wasn't until the driver said, "Gnisis, everybody off," that I was able to release my grip on my pack and pry my eyes open. I couldn't understand how we could be stopped when it felt like we were still moving. Finally, I was able to stand and stagger onto the platform, where I barely avoided falling off into the river. A Dunmer made some remark about "...stupid outlanders who can't hold their liquor," but I ignored it. If there hadn't appeared to be three of him, I would have punched them in their mouths. When my stomach and eye-sight settled down, I looked over Gnisis. It hadn't improved any from the last time I was there, and the rain didn't help. So, in a perfect mood for adventure (assuming adventure meant whacking things with my sword), I turned to the north gate to make my way to Ald Velothi.

If you have followed my story, you will have noticed that I have a character flaw that does not allow me to ignore a woman in distress. Perhaps it is actually a noble trait or, more likely, the result of reading too many bad romances. Regardless of the source of this tendency, it often got me into situations that might have been avoided with a little common sense. A perfect illustration was Synette Jeline and the Ring in the Pond. I had gotten most of the way from Gnisis to Ald Velothi, following the well-marked trails and mumbling about the rain, when I saw a red-haired Breton lady pacing back and forth above a rocky pool. For a wonder, she didn't scream threats or immediately try to kill me, as had so many of the women I had met in the wilderness. I was so surprised that she actually spoke to me in a civil, even a friendly fashion, that I didn't stop to wonder what she was doing out there in the rain. Considering my recent (lack of) success with pretty Breton women, it was understandable that I wasn't paying as much attention as I should have. Maybe I needed to find a nice Imperial girl closer to my own age.... She said her name was Synette Jeline and that she had lost her ring. She was sure it had rolled down the slope into the pond. She went on to explain that she couldn't go into the water herself because she was due in Gnisis shortly and that she was a "private dancer" and would be forever in my debt if I could retrieve the ring. She placed a peculiar emphasis on the words "private dancer," which led me to believe that perhaps they had some other meaning of which I was not aware. Someone who danced by herself, I supposed. Still, I could understand why such a delicate example of Breton femininity wouldn't wish to go splashing around in a cold pond. So, naturally, I agreed to help. Her response again confused me as she said, "When I finish dancing this evening, perhaps we can get together and ... discuss your reward."

When she said "reward" she arched her eyebrows in a most intriguing way and again placed an odd stress on the word. Perhaps she was from a different part of High Rock, where they spoke differently. But I didn't worry about it too much, because she smiled so sweetly when she said it.

I must have thrashed around in that pond for a good twenty minutes before I finally drank a potion of Night Eye that allowed me to spot the ring over near some rocks and pond weeds. Just as I picked it up, I seemed to hear a woman's voice say, "No good deed goes unpunished, outlander."

I definitely heard Synette shout, "Now I have you," as she cast some sort of spell and began tossing throwing stars at me. At first, I thought there must be some horrible monster that she was trying to rescue me from, but no, she was definitely trying her best to kill me. I also thought I saw a ghostly figure with a bow come up beside her. Whatever the apparition was, it also was intent on my demise. In fact, it seemed that an arrow had grazed me just as the first voice had caused me to flinch in surprise. Trying to avoid the storm of missiles, I dove underwater and scuttled back among the rocks. All of her concern about "icky pond water" seemingly forgotten, Synette dove right in and started swimming after me. She also pulled a wicked-looking dagger, which seemed to glow with a particularly unpleasant enchantment. Her shadowy friend pulled a sword and plunged into the pond, as well. As I struggled to block her determined (and frighteningly competent) attacks and at the same time keep my head above water, the "nice Breton girl" stabbed me, and I felt the fire of poison bloom in my veins. Again, an involuntary twitch probably saved me- the vicious swipe that surely would have opened my throat caught my left shoulder instead. The pain also caused me to take a deep breath- of water. For a moment, it seemed that I would die of drowning before their blades could finish me. Choking and coughing, I burst to the surface and stopped thinking of my opponents as "ladies." Anyone who used poisoned weapons was a killer, and a cruel one, at that. One advantage of fighting alone against two was that they blocked each other, while I didn't have to worry about hitting the wrong person. My longer, heavier sword and my greater reach gave me enough of an edge to defeat Synette and her dagger. As she fell back into the pond, I used the momentary break to swallow a Restore Health potion. Refreshed, I turned to face her mysterious companion. That individual seemed more of a challenge, as she was equipped with chitin armor and wielded a long blade. Yet I believe that she had come to depend too much on surprise, for she did not fare well in an even fight, when her target knew she was there. Soon enough, a second body floated in that cursed pool.

Shaking with rage and reaction as much as from the chill water, I dragged myself onto the bank, where I collapsed for some minutes. When my breathing and heartbeat reached a level closer to normal, I stood and wrung the water from my hair and tied it back again. Then I climbed slowly back to the trail, casting a final glance at the pond and the two floating forms within it- sirens who would never again lure a foolish man to his doom. Normally, I would have taken my defeated opponents' possessions- to the victor go the spoils- but I didn't even want to touch them. Let their blood-money sink to the bottom of the pool; perhaps some adventurer would find it someday. And perhaps, by then, the taint would be washed away. As for me, I turned my steps to the north and shortly reached Ald Velothi. It would be much longer before I could hear a Breton girl laugh or see a flash of red hair without tasting pond water on my tongue and feeling an ache in my shoulder. And the pain that I felt even deeper inside ...never completely went away.