The Story of Trey- Chapter 6 Options

[treydog]

Chapter 6

From the perspective of so many years later, I understand that trying to solve things with violence is futile. If you create a power vacuum in the criminal world, plenty of people will be glad to fill it. Even worse is what you risk losing. Not only is there a physical risk, but the risk of spiritual death. The answer to almost any problem becomes, "Kill it." It is a path of madness and despair. I know, because I came very near to walking that path for a time.

The Camonna Tong in Balmora was crippled, most of its members dead at my hands. I had given Larrius Varro his bloodbath; I had bought the Thieves Guild some breathing space. And it wasn't enough. The blood of my enemies had not put out the fire of my anger, it had only fed the flames. In fighting the monster that was the Camonna Tong, I had become monstrous myself. I had decided to become a hunter, determined to track down and destroy whatever trace of the Camonna Tong I could find. Vengeance sang in my brain and my muscles trembled with the need to strike down all who opposed me. I would seek them wherever they laired and cast them into the darkness. I already knew that Hla Oad was considered Camonna territory; I would start there. I sharpened my blades and prepared my potions and spells. A shadow had fallen across my heart and I could not see any light except that cast by the fires of my rage. Our fates rest on such small things, often unseen and unremarked. You take one path instead of another, never knowing that you have avoided an ambush. You decide to eat at home instead of at the corner club on the night of a devastating fire. Or you stop to talk to a man you have vowed to kill, because of the fear in the eyes of a Khajiit slave.

My sources had told me that most of the Camonna in Hla Oad worked in a smuggler's den underneath Fatleg's. A hidden entrance from the sea allowed them to load and unload boats under cover. So it was that I found myself descending through a trapdoor into a vast cavern underneath the humid little village. Although a part of me simply yearned to begin a berserk dance of death more suited to a Nord warrior, the small amount of control I retained counseled caution. Before I started my vendetta, I should locate all of my opponents and determine if there were any hidden exits. Therefore, I bypassed Llemisa Marys, who never knew how close death had come. Deeper in the cavern I found Relam Arinith and also discovered just how evil my sworn enemies truly were. Standing near Arinith was a Khajiit slave, who seemed to be in the grip of a terrible fever or else overwhelmed by fear. Still, despite her constant trembling, her eyes held mine for a brief instant of mute appeal. Arinith obviously thought I was someone else, for he asked me if I had come to "escort the slave to Balmora." Sensing an opportunity to hit the Camonna Tong where it would really hurt, in the pocketbook, I decided to play along. "Sure, I just got in. What's the deal?"

Arinith told me, "This slave, Rabinna, is my payment for a bargain I made with Vorar Helas in Balmora. Take good care of her- she's not much to look at, but it's what's on the inside that counts."

Here was a chance to free a slave and hurt Camonna all at the same time. I could always come back for Arinith later and, even better, he had just given me a name I hadn't known. Once we got out of the hideout, I could see if Rabinna knew anything, and then send her on her way. Perhaps I could even give her a little cash to make her escape easier. And then I would be free to continue on my planned path of mayhem. After we had exited Fatleg's, I tried to speak to the Khajiit, but she seemed paralyzed with fear. Her eyes were locked on the blade that I had forgotten was still in my hand. Hoping to calm her, I sheathed the sword and tried again. Her fright lessened enough to allow speech, but Rabinna still moaned that her "fate was sealed" and that there was no chance of escape. I asked her what she meant and she revealed the true extent of the evil of which the Camonna Tong was capable. She had been forced to swallow a great many packets of moon sugar, wrapped to prevent their dissolving in her stomach. Once she reached Balmora, Vorar Helas would kill her and cut her open to recover the drugs. When I promised that I would not take her to Balmora, Rabinna was grateful, but pointed out that she could not get far wearing a slave bracer. Anyone who was so inclined could capture her and turn her in as a runaway. And her death would follow in short order. But perhaps, she said, there was a chance.

It seemed that someone named Im-Kilaya at the Argonian Mission in Ebonheart worked to return slaves to their homelands. If only she could reach him, she had a chance. How strange are the fates and how narrow the chances that save our humanity. The choice was before me- save this single life or continue on my quest of death. Ultimately, the life, in truth the soul I saved, was my own. For at that moment, it was the desire of this Khajiit for freedom, for life, that turned me aside from a road that would have led to my damnation. I agreed to take her to Ebonheart. Getting to the Argonian Mission was simply a matter of taking the boat from Hla Oad and making our way through the fortified city. As soon as we got inside the mission, Rabinna thanked me and rushed to the side of a richly-dressed Argonian. When I spoke to him, he identified himself as Im-Kilaya and promised to see that the former slave reached safety. He also gave me his thanks and 400 gold, saying, "Perhaps it will help in funding other missions of good will."

Sanity had returned, and I trembled in reaction to what had nearly become of me. How ironic that my hatred of the injustice of slavery had overcome my determination to exterminate a group I had believed I hated even more. Although I had no doubt that the Camonna Tong "needed killing," I was equally certain that administering that justice was reserved for someone else. For a brief, chaotic time, I had believed myself to be the instrument of divine vengeance, the bringer of destruction. Now I knew that I was just myself, Trey of High Rock- no more, no less. And that was enough.

There was something very interesting going on at the Argonian Mission, but no one there seemed inclined to say much about it. They were polite, but it was clear that they didn't completely trust me. As one who had his own secrets, I respected their caution, but I did wonder what they were up to. As I left Ebonheart, I realized that I was at a loss for what to do next. Before I had briefly lapsed into insanity and planned to exterminate the Camonna Tong, I had made sure there were I had no outstanding obligations- I had not believed I would survive. Now, no one was expecting me to go anywhere or to deliver anything- it seemed that I was free to choose my own path. That momentary vision of freedom and free will came to a sudden stop when I reached up to adjust my collar and felt the chain I wore, the chain that held the Emperor's "gift." Very well, then. I had not seen Caius for some time; better for me to visit him than have him come looking for me. No doubt he would have some sort of "go see this person" job in mind. But that was agreeable- he seemed to know some interesting people.

This post has been edited by treydog: Mar 5 2023, 10:27 PM

[treydog]

To my great disappointment, Sul-Matuul's directions proved easy to follow, and I soon found myself outside the Urshilaku Burial Caverns. Although a part of me quailed at the idea of being named Clanfriend, another part yearned for the sense of belonging that would come with that honor. And I clearly understood that it was an honor- the Ashlanders were even more particular than House Redoran. For the Ashkhan to even consider initiating an outlander was practically unheard of. Perhaps that, even more than my pending confrontation with the Urshilaku undead, was the source of my fear. I had tried to convince myself that the Emperor and Caius were deluded or else attempting a desperate plot when they claimed that I might be the Nerevarine. But Sul-Matuul, who could not be part of any such conspiracy, also saw something in me that made him wonder. And whatever he saw was enough for him to agree to set me a task that could make me a member of the Urshilaku. No khan undertook such a thing lightly. If he lost the faith and support of his people, he would soon lose his head as well. Still, I did not need to run too far ahead of events- even if I recovered the bow, Nibani Maesa's testing could still prove that I was not the Nerevarine. And meanwhile, I would have gained acceptance in a close-knit society, a group of people I admired greatly. My reading and experiences had led me to believe that the Ashlanders were the greatest of the Dunmer, even though they had the least.

Through all the wars and factional squabbles, they had remained true to their heritage and their religion. When it would have been easier to simply give up and become House Dunmer, they fought to preserve the old ways. It might not have been the smartest course nor one likely to guarantee survival, but it was the most honorable. I had to admire that kind of courage. But none of this was getting me any closer to recovering the Bonebiter Bow, so I squared my shoulders, swallowed my fear, and entered the cavern.

The tomb was nearly as bad as I feared- dry, stale air that smelled of age, decay, and something unrecognizable. Mummified warriors sat atop stone columns, guarding the passage, and I wondered if they had been dead or alive when they first took their posts. The burial cavern was clearly designed to discourage and trap any casual looter, with skeleton champions on patrol. I managed to defeat the first several and so reached a break in the stone floor of the passage, on the opposite side of which was a doorway. Apparently, the idea was to prevent anyone from simply walking deeper into the cavern; the intrepid adventurer would have to attempt to leap across the watery gap. In my case, it was simply a matter of imbibing one of my numerous Levitation potions. The markings on the door indicated that it led to the Karma Burial chamber. That section proved to contain still more skeleton champions, as well as a more formidable obstacle course. A series of widely spaced "stepping stones" crossed the large, water-filled chamber. Again, Levitation made movement through the passage a simple matter. A single rat, apparently trapped by the water, barred the door to the next area. That door was marked "Laterus." I thought that if I traveled much further south I would find myself in Maar Gan. Laterus proved to be quite different and, in a way, beautiful. It was a great vertical chamber, filled with waterfalls and rock formations. A rough stone ramp spiraled upward along the left-hand wall. More mummified warriors were perched on small rock ledges jutting from the central pillar. At intervals, doors opened off of the walkway- with the names Fragile, Kefka, Kakuna, and Juno. Sul-Matuul had not specified where his father's spirit might be found, so I decided to fully explore Laterus before venturing into any of the side chambers. I at last reached a dead end at the top and turned back to the uppermost side chamber, which was marked "Juno."

After fighting my way through a number of skeletal guardians, I came into an area where the stonework was quite different. Previously, the caverns has seemed mostly natural, with some evidence of working with primitive tools. But as I went deeper into Juno, finished stone was evident. This area was far older and had been built rather than formed by natural processes. The work appeared to pre-date the Nord invasion of Morrowind. If that were so, this area was old indeed. In the farthest depths of Juno, Sul-Senipul awaited me. Or rather the wraith of the man who had been Sul-Senipul. The spirit was resistant to the magic of my blade and afflicted me with a loss of agility as well as a disease. Fortunately, my own innate resistance to magicka saved me from the worst of the undead ashkhan's attacks. When I had defeated him, he dropped the Bonebiter Bow. I quickly grabbed the artifact and cured my ailments with a couple of potions. I have never regretted the amount of time I devoted to the study of alchemy, and that was one of the main reasons. As I turned to leave that haunted place, I wondered how Sul-Matuul would feel about my victory. Although I hadn't "killed" his father, for Sul-Senipul was already dead, I had defeated his spirit. And the Ashlanders worshipped their departed ancestors. Had this all been an elaborate trap- a way to either kill me outright or to lure me into "defiling" an Urshilaku burial? That might be the case, but I didn't really believe it. I had simply been exposed to too many Imperial intrigues- I was seeing plots everywhere. While Sul-Matuul was an intelligent man, he was not devious. His instincts and actions were those of a hunter, but not a spy. While he might take an oblique approach when stalking his prey, he would not use an unwitting stranger as bait. If he had wanted me dead, he would have challenged me in front of everyone. No, even though this had been a test, it was a fair one.

Speculation was pointless- I would learn the reality as soon as I returned with the bow. Now, it was time to leave these halls of the dead. Perhaps there were great treasures buried there; perhaps, if I had stumbled on the cavern by accident, I would have searched for them. But my purpose here had only had one object, to gain the respect and approval of the Urshilaku. I had not gone into those tombs as a thief- I would not leave as one. Let the dead keep their treasures. Of far greater value to me would be the bond I established with the Ashlanders. When I entered Sul-Matuul's tent, he immediately recognized the bow of his father. He made me a gift of the weapon and then honored his promise to name me Clanfriend. Finally, he instructed me to speak with Nibani Maesa about being tested against the Nerevarine prophecies. My odyssey in the burial caverns had just been a preliminary. Now the real trial would begin. And I still wasn't sure how I wanted this testing to turn out. As much as I feared the answers, I knew that the time for the questions had come.

Now that I had been named Clanfriend, Nibani Maesa was much more willing to discuss the Nerevarine prophecies. She explained that there were many prophecies, with many possible meanings. Among them were- the Moon-and-Star, aspect and uncertain parents, sleepers, the seven curses, the Stranger, the Seven Visions, and even the lost prophecies. After reciting that list, she stated: "You may ask me of these things. If you are wise. Or, if you are impatient, you may simply ask 'Do I pass the test of the prophecies?' Ask your questions and I will answer."

First, because this concerned my life and whatever future I might hope to have and second, because I would have found this material fascinating in any circumstances, I asked the wise woman to tell me all that she could. I will not attempt to detail all of her responses here; there are now many books which relate the prophecies for those who are interested. Two things I will touch upon at this time- the lost prophecies and whether I passed the test. Some of the prophecies regarding the "return" of Indoril Nerevar had been lost over time. In some cases, this was due to accident or death- the knowledge of the Ashlanders was carried and passed on by the wise-women. Other prophecies seemed to have been suppressed on purpose, but what that purpose was, she could not say. Her answers regarding my place in all this puzzled and relieved me at the same time. She told me, "You are not the Nerevarine, yet you may become so. If you chose to follow this path, then seek out the lost prophecies among the Dissident Priests of the Temple. Bring these lost prophecies to me and I will be your guide."

As she spoke, I made written copies of The Stranger and The Seven Visions. When she had concluded the prophecies, Nibani said, "Think on what I have told you. And do what must be done."

Through this ordeal, I learned something very important- adventures happen to other people. When it is happening to you, it is not an adventure, it is something you endure. Reading about a great journey or an epic battle in a book is pleasant, exciting, even enlightening. Undertaking that journey or fighting that battle yourself is usually sweaty, bloody, smelly, altogether unpleasant. Somehow, the scribes always managed to leave the ugly parts out. Of course, if they told the truth, no more young fools would be enticed to leave home and become adventurers. And then, what would the scribes write about in their comfortable, well-lit rooms? No one wants to read the story of Trey, who single-handedly shoveled out the stables every day for 20 years. But then again, the product of the stables and the product of the scribes are remarkably similar. Knowing that did not solve my problem, however. My mind was almost overwhelmed by questions- how could this be possible? What would I do now? How would I find these Dissident Priests? Nibani had talked as if I had a choice as to whether or not to follow the path of the Nerevarine. But then she had said, "Do what must be done." That was a terrible thing to say to someone. How was I supposed to even know "what must be done?"
Although I really didn't want to, I knew that I needed to report back to Caius. He had set this whole thing in motion at the instigation of the Emperor; he could figure out what came next. And maybe he would have some idea of how to find these Dissident Priests.

Although it would have been easier to simply Recall to Ald'ruhn, I decided to move the locus for my Mark to the Urshilaku camp. The cities could be reached by strider, guild guide, or Almsivi Intervention. The only way to reach the camp was by a long walk over inhospitable terrain. From the way Nibani had talked, I would be making that journey frequently for the foreseeable future. With my Mark relocated, I cast Almsivi Intervention and arrived outside the Temple at Gnisis. The sight of the crab-shell structures served as a reminder- I had an obligation to serve House Redoran, as well. Perhaps after I delivered my report to Caius and collected my reward for the Valenvaryon propylon index from Folms, I would return to Ald'ruhn. Generally, the duties Neminda had given me were uncomplicated and did not present me with such dilemmas.

When I told Caius of the events in the Urshilaku camp, he was nearly as surprised as I had been. He promised to ask Mehra Milo about the Dissident Priests- she would be likely to know if they had any of the lost prophecies and, possibly, how to find them. Then his demeanor changed and he told me that he had a "very tough" task in mind. He asked me if I was ready and I responded that I was willing to try, but preferred to proceed cautiously. That answer pleased the spymaster and he admitted that caution would be necessary. He gave me 400 drakes and told me to purchase potions, training, or gear- whatever I felt would help me. He also counseled me to take this particular job slowly. All these warnings were making me nervous- Caius usually gave the impression that I could sink or swim- it was all the same. The assignment was to raid a Sixth House base near Gnaar Mok, kill a Sixth House priest there named Dagoth Gares, and bring back a full report. It seemed that a patrol from Fort Buckmoth had investigated a cavern called Ilunibi and been nearly wiped out. A Legion Champion named Raesa Pullia had more details. Something in Caius' expression told me there was more that he wasn't telling me. When I pressed him, he added that only one member of the patrol had survived, and that poor trooper had been infected with corprus disease, which was both horrifying and untreatable. A person so afflicted was beset with abnormal growths and soon became an unrecognizable monster. And now, Caius wanted me to go in and succeed where an entire Imperial Legion patrol had failed. Now, I will be the first to admit that I have often expressed my contempt for the Legion. But that contempt is generally reserved for the barely adequate way they function as law-enforcement. Even I don't question their ability to fight. If an entire patrol was beaten- with all but one man killed- there was something very bad indeed in Ilunibi. Caius wanted me to go find out what the very bad something was. Why couldn't he ask me to do something simple, like take on a whole bunch of Malacath-worshippers with a stick?
This was very much a situation where my sense of duty conflicted with my sense of self-preservation. My work with alchemy had brought me into contact with some virulent poisons and some equally powerful diseases. But all of those could be cured with the right spell or potion, provided it was administered in time. Corprus was not curable- the victims were locked up for their own protection and for the protection of others. The eventual outcome of the disease was madness. And that madness came as a great relief to the victim. Caius wanted me to do this, but he hadn't specified exactly when. I quickly decided to take advantage of that oversight and do some more work for House Redoran before I again tempted fate. Besides the lesson that adventures happened to other people, I was learning that belonging to a family wasn't just a matter of having a seat at the dining table. You also had to occasionally make sure that there was something there to eat. Or that there was a table at all.

The Urshilaku wise woman had told me to "...do what must be done." Caius wanted me to investigate a Sixth House base that had destroyed all but one member of an Imperial Legion patrol and left the survivor infected with corprus. Nibani also wanted me to find the Dissident priests and the lost prophecies. Someone, maybe more than one, wanted me dead. Everyone, it seemed wanted something from me. And most of those things involved my risking what I wanted- which was to stay alive. No one had asked me what I thought of all this, which was probably just as well. In my current state of mind, I would have told them. As had become my habit, I decided to work on alchemy as a way of giving my mind a chance to rest. I wasn't going to solve anything by running in all directions at once. Also, it had been some time since I had rested. Even using magical travel to get back from the Ashlands was wearying. Sleeping in a bed was a luxury to which I had become accustomed. Sleep came, and with it, perhaps the strangest dream so far. Again, I was confronted by the tall, gold-masked figure; again it spoke to me. The difference was, this time, I could hear the words clearly. In fact, they were so clear that I remembered them precisely when the dream ended and I suddenly awoke. Such was the power of that voice that the words are clear to me even today- "Lord Nerevar Indoril, Hai Resdaynia! Long forgotten, forged anew! Three belied you, three betrayed you! One you betrayed was three times true! Lord Voryn Dagoth, Dagoth Ur! Steadfast liegeman, faithful friend, bids you come and climb Red Mountain. Beneath Red Mountain, once again, break your bonds, shed cursed skin, and purge the n'wah from Morrowind."

So, there was one more power in the land that wanted something of me. Even without Nibani Maesa's words of warning, I would have resisted that call. Red Mountain stood in the heart of the Blight, home of diseased and deadly creatures. I would sooner climb the mountains of the moons than that deadly peak. Still, the sleep and the alchemy had served their purpose- I had made a decision. Up until now, I had tried to serve too many masters- the Thieves Guild, Mages Guild, Blades, even the Temple. But House Redoran was my family- they commanded my ultimate loyalty.

When I had returned to the Redoran Council Hall, I sensed a tension in the air. Groups of guards and Redoran retainers met, held whispered conversations, and parted. No one seemed willing to say anything to me about the source of all this activity- although I had risen in the House, I was still an "outlander" to many of them. Even Neminda did not want to say much; instead she asked me to again assist Drulene Falen. This time the guar-herder was having problems with bandits stealing her guar. Although I had hoped for a more challenging assignment, one that might bring me to the attention of one of the councilors, I understood that I still had to prove myself. Meanwhile, I had to wonder about the sanity of any bandits who would steal guar. They aren't exactly easy to hide. One of the first lessons I had learned was to not steal anything that you couldn't carry easily. Even though guar could "carry themselves," they were difficult to put in your pocket. When I reached Drulene's camp, she said that the tracks indicated that the missing animals had been driven to the west, toward the coast. The bandits, or rather the missing guar, proved easy to find. They were grazing outside of the Telvayn Tomb. No bandits were in evidence outside, so it appeared that I would have to go into the tomb to find them. Fortunately, there were no undead guardians, and the bandits proved to be as bad at fighting as they were at stealing. I did manage to find a copy of a rare book, Hallgerd's Tale, so the trip was worthwhile in more ways than one. Upon my return to Ald'ruhn, I got the opportunity I had wanted to meet a councilor, just not in a way I had expected.

After I reported my successful bandit hunt to Neminda, she told me that Athyn Sarethi had been threatened and needed a guard. He was one of the Redoran councilors, and had been a particular friend of Neminda's father. He had received word that an assassination attempt was going to be made and didn't know which of the guards could be trusted. Therefore, he had asked Neminda to recommend someone reliable. Sarethi was in his manor under Skar, and Neminda urged me to go there as soon as possible- the danger was pressing. Upon arrival, I saw that the attack was already underway- two Redoran guards lay dead in the entry hall. When I approached the councilor, he asked me to stay alert- he feared that more assassins were somewhere on the premises. Almost before he finished speaking, two Dunmer burst through the door and charged toward Sarethi. Without conscious thought, I positioned myself between him and the attackers. Balked from reaching their target, the assassins turned their attention to me. Although I took a number of wounds from their short blades, my enchanted sword proved stronger and they fell before me. More important, I had prevented them from reaching their target. When I examined the bodies, I discovered that both wore a blood-red stone on the left lapel, a symbol of the Morag Tong. Someone, almost certainly from a Great House, had issued a writ for Athyn Sarethi, which might explain some of the tension I had sensed. Councilor Sarethi thanked me and asked me to return to Neminda and let her know that he was safe. The Redoran drillmaster expressed her relief, adding a cryptic remark about the Sarethi family already having "enough trouble." She then paid me 200 drakes, the standard rate for a guard assignment, and informed me that it was time seek sponsorship from one of the House councilors. Considering that Athyn Sarethi now owed me his life, I didn't have to think very hard about which councilor to approach.

When I asked Athyn for his support, I found out what Neminda had meant about the Sarethi family's "trouble." It appeared that the Redoran Archmaster, Bolvyn Venim, was holding Athyn's son, Varvur, hostage, claiming he had committed a crime. The elder Sarethi was convinced that his son was innocent and that this was a political move. If I could rescue Varvur, the councilor promised that he would sponsor me. Varvur was being held in Venim Manor, awaiting "private justice," which sounded suspiciously like a way for Venim to ensure getting the verdict he wanted. With my own similar experience of "justice" fresh in my mind, I was favorably inclined to attempt the rescue. And I also had a feeling that I wasn't going to like Bolvyn Venim. Athyn explained that, because of the laws of the Redoran regarding sanctuary, Varvur would be safe if I could get him back to Sarethi Manor. He may not have realized it, but Athyn Sarethi had picked one of the best possible people to steal his son out from under the nose Venim and his guards. And I decided that it was just as well not to burden a concerned father with too many details about how I was going to do it.

From the furnishings of Venim Manor, Bolvyn was clearly doing well. Also, his guards wore Dwemer armor, an expensive affectation. Equally interesting as the expense of such armor was the fact that possession of those artifacts was supposed to be illegal, at least in the eyes of the Empire. I had to wonder what kind of Redoran councilor would so publicly flout the law. As I thought all of this, I kept moving deeper into Venim Manor, making no effort to hide. Finally, in the right wing, I found a note and a key lying on a bench. The note concerned a "special guest," who was to be kept locked in a room hidden behind a tapestry and guarded continually. As the guard was standing right there, I left the note and key where they were and looked for the hidden door. Once I found it, I had reason to appreciate Venim for being half-smart. He anticipated that Athyn Sarethi might try a rescue, but assumed he would do it in the Redoran way- straight ahead with no deception. He hadn't counted on a thief, who could use the concealing tapestry as cover to pick the lock. Once the door was open, I found myself facing a younger version of Athyn Sarethi. Besides his father's looks, the boy had inherited his intelligence. He didn't ask any questions or make any noise. I told him I was there to take him home and that I hoped he was a fast runner, because I didn't plan on stopping. Apparently the cell-like room didn't hold any attractions for him and he give a curt nod of agreement to my plan. I waited until the guard was at the farthest point on her circuit and signaled Varvur. We sprang from behind the tapestry and made straight for the steps, ignoring the shouts from behind. Crashing through the door into the main hall of Venim Manor, I bowled over a couple of retainers but kept my feet. Another sprint and we were out into the central chamber of Skar and pounding across the boardwalk toward Sarethi Manor. When we reached Athyn Sarethi, he promised to sponsor me before the Council and told me that I could report to him for orders. He also promoted me to House Cousin. In rescuing another man's son, I had made a place for myself. Whatever else might happen, I now belonged to a family.

Here ends Chapter 6

This post has been edited by treydog: Mar 11 2023, 09:36 PM