Sudhendra Vahl, the first chapter Options

[minque]

This is the first chapter of the amazing story by OverrideB1, which has been posted in the ES-forums

So you want to know a little more about me, where I come from, how I got to be where I am? That seems a reasonable request and we should have plenty of time for me to tell my tale.
I go by the name of Sudhendra Vahl. That’s not my real name of course, but you’ll soon understand why. I’ll start at the beginning ~ I was raised in a small village about fifty miles west of Rihad, and I was born in the year 401 of the Third Era. What’s that?
Well, that is uncommonly kind of you to say so, although your flattery will gain you nothing. I come from a long-lived species and certain events (which I will relate) have conspired to provide me with a much longer life than is normal ~ even for one of my kind. Now, let me tell you my tale…

The Tale of Sudhendra Vahl :Prologue
I never knew my parents: my mother died giving birth to me and my father, from what I can discover, was an itinerant adventurer passing through on his way to somewhere adventurous from somewhere less adventurous. My mother, Gods rest her soul, caught his eye and there was a brief dalliance. Nine months later, along I came ~ a very short time after that, my mother departed this vale of tears. I have little, or no, recollection of what happened after that ~ although I have expended considerable resources over the years finding out.

Shortly after my mother’s death, I was taken in by the Stendarr temple and, from there, sent to foster parents to be raised. My foster-parents were Stendarrites, although the milk of his mercy ran thinly in their veins. I was just a source of income from the Temple for them and, when that ran out shortly after my tenth birthday, I became cheap labour for them around the farm. Well, I say cheap ~ unpaid would be a much better description. True, I had food and a bed: the food left over after they’d finished eating and a pile of straw atop the storage shed. It was a brief and unhappy childhood; not helped by the fact I was the only Dark Elf in the village.

I grew up being handy with my fists and feet and wasn’t above using my teeth if push came to shove. And when half-a-dozen jeering children, all of whom are better fed and stronger than you, surround you; shove comes surprisingly quickly. I quickly garnered a reputation as a surly and aggressive child among the villagers. Not that I had much of a problem with that: my foster-parents did, however and I was regularly beaten for “starting another fight”. Any attempt to explain that I’d been set upon by six or seven older, stronger children was conveniently ignored.

However, just so you don’t think that it was completely bad, I did have a wonderful forest near the house and, when my foster-parents were away at temple, I could wander through them to my hearts content. It was about this time that I developed quite the interest in the properties of various flora. I soon found a root, common in the woods, the juice of which alleviated the sting of my frequent bruises. I never made much of the interest other than secretly trading useful bits of root and flower to passing traders in exchange for coin or, more frequently, a tattered old book. I took great care not to be seen with the books as I struggled to learn my letters ~ I knew that they’d end up on the fire and I’d end up being punished again if I was caught.

It was probably around my twelfth year that my Talent appeared. I began to notice strange auras around certain things and the feeling that I almost knew what they were for. As the days passed, I began to notice more of these quicksilver flashes and occasionally, when a Noble or Knight rode through the village, a strange tugging sensation if they passed close to me. Obviously not something I could discuss with my foster-parents, I chose to discuss it with a wandering peddler I’d dealt with before. In exchange for some plants and one of my miserly horded golden Drakes, he explained that I was born under the sign of the Apprentice and that what I was seeing was a manifestation of that astrological sign’s influence on my life.

Over the next three years, my friend the peddler would come visit. In return for my identifying magical items, he taught me a couple of useful cantrips. A fire-touch spell, a spell that allowed me to walk on water, and (my personal favourite) a spirit I could summon that would act as a guardian. In secret, I began marking the fifteenth of Sun’s Height as my birthday.

I said that it was a short and bitter childhood, and the truth of that became apparent shortly after my fifteenth “birthday”. My foster-mother was away visiting her mother ~ a woman I’d never met, but who was reputed to be insanely rich and insanely eccentric. One night, deep in his cups, my foster-father came up into the loft of the storage shed and attempted to… well, I probably don’t need to draw you a diagram, do I? Needless to say, he got a fist in the face that broke his nose and a shovel across that back of the head that turned out his lights for a while. Gathering my few tattered clothes and the meagre stash of Drakes I’d accumulated, I took a sack-full of provender from the larder, the best horse from the yard and, bidding a farewell to my hidden books, I set off in the general direction of away.

I figured that everyone would think I’d headed towards Rihad so that was the last direction I wanted. North lay Taneth and, beyond that, the wilds of Hammerfell. East lay the border with Cyrodiil, as it would if I headed south. Cyrodiil it was then and, angling roughly southeast, I rode off into the night. A few days later, hungry and dusty, I crossed into Sutch. There it became obvious that the supply of coin I had wouldn’t last too long and so, with some reluctance, I sold my steed and blended into the crowds.
Over the course of the next ten years I drifted from town to town, never staying in one spot for long, making a passable living identifying useful plants or identifying ensorcelled items. Naturally, I picked up a few useful skills along the way: my years of chopping wood proved to be handy as I found I could wield a pretty mean axe and I taught myself the rudiments of fighting with a long-blade. I won’t say I led a blameless existence, but I was no more of a thief, cutpurse, or mugger than anyone else of my station. Truth be told, I tried to avoid stealing things except when needs must: often I was the only Dark Elf in the town and knew that suspicion would fall on me pretty quickly.

So I drifted along, wandering from town to town with nary a care in the world. However, it was in one town that I happened to overhear a couple of Legion types asking about a Dark Elf named “Mishkin” who was wanted for assault and theft in Hammerfell. Heart pounding, I ran back to my hideout, collected my sparse belongings and got out of town pretty damn’ sharply, I can tell you. In a panic, I made the cardinal mistake – isolating myself with no options. I hit Anvil running, and booked myself passage on the first ship to very far away from here. It virtually emptied my purse, but I got passage on a vessel sailing to a port near Rimmen. I knew nothing about the place except that it was in Elsweyr and it was very far away from Hammerfell. Sounded perfect.

The journey took a couple of months, and I was more than happy to step off the boat in the bustling port and blend once more into the crowds. Of course, I’d forgotten how quickly bad news could spread, how persistent the Empire is in punishing wrongdoers, and the spitefulness of my foster-parents. I’d travelled under the name of “Vahl” and used the first name “Sudhendra” if I had to ~ it was a name I’d read in a book at sometime and it struck me as being a pretty name, certainly better than Mishkin. There I was, in a foreign place, with no money and a false identity. That’s when I made cardinal mistake number two.

My only excuse is that I was exhausted. I’d been running around trying to gather up some much needed coin and had pushed myself over the limit. I purchased a little bread and meat and sat in a pretty little park to eat my meal. Next thing I know, I’m being shaken awake by a burly guard who was being watched with some amusement by his three equally burly compatriots.

“You can’t sleep here,” he said. “What’s your name?”

I told you I was tired, I automatically answered “Mishkin Dark-Skin”.

“Says here you’re Sudhendra Vahl and, wait, did you say Mishkin Dark-Skin?”

The four of them fell on me like a landslide, hitting me with their short wooden clubs before dragging me, battered and bruised, to the local lockup. Where I spend a very uncomfortable night before being hauled before the local Imperial magistrate. The charges were ridiculous, to say the least: “Assault on a village Elder”, “Theft of three hundred Drakes”, “Theft of a prize stallion”, “Assuming a false Identity”, “Vagrancy”. Oh, and my personal favourite, “Resisting arrest”.

I might just have talked my way out of the first five charges but that resisting arrest one? That one was the clinching offence: the whole trial took under thirty minutes, I wasn’t given a single chance to refute the charges or make a defence and found myself sentenced to ten years in the Imperial prison at Alabaster.

I’d been in prison for a year when things took a turn for the very strange. During my sentence, I’d been a good girl; following orders, staying out of trouble, that sort of thing. Unlikely though it was, there was a very remote chance I might get a reprieve if I showed that I was a model citizen. So, I bowed and scraped, cleaned out the latrines, washed, cooked, and did all the usual stuff they make you do in jail. In addition, I kept in shape as best as I could. Then, one night, the door to my cell slammed open and I was grabbed and dragged out into the courtyard. A cloaked and hooded figure looked at me from the dark recess of his hood and muttered something to the commandant. Next thing I knew I was being hustled into a coach and driven out of the prison. We stopped but once, and I was made to stand there while my original abductors drove off in the coach and another, plainer coach was brought in. The hooded figure turned to me and said something that sounded like “Somnus” and a sudden blackness descended.

[minque]

After breaking my fast by eating everything edible in Foryn Gilnith’s hut, I made my way to the Customs and Excise building, where I reported what I’d done to Socucius Ergalla. He seemed pleased, pleased enough to pay me the five hundred Septims he’d promised me anyway. With the money safely tucked away, a pair of stout walking boots purchased from Arielle’s Tradehouse, and a lovely clear sky overhead, I decided that a walk to the next town, Balmora, was in order. Skirting the Noble and his guards, I set off along the well-marked path.

The road wended its way up a short incline, and then meandered through a high walled canyon before descending again to a wide, grassy area. According to my map, this was the Ascadian Isles region. In front of me was a large pond, or very small lake at the far side of which was a broad sandbar separating this body of water from a much larger area of water. It was getting on a little, and I felt in need of something to eat. The sandbar looked an idyllic place to take a small break and a quick repast. The place might not have been as restful as it seemed ~ there were lots of scuffed footprints leading to a cavern entrance that dominated one end of the sandbar.

The runes scratched into the door said “Mannamu”, and it turned out to be the residence of a number of bandits. Fortunately, they were well spaced out in the spacious cave-system and, using a combination of magic, summoning, thrown weapons and some up-close-and-nasty blade work, I was able to kill all of them. My efforts proved to have been very, very worthwhile.

There were a number of small, iron-banded chests that, once I’d forced them open, netted me several hundred Septims. In addition, I found quite a large number of scrolls and alchemical ingredients ~ as well as a remarkably fine wooden bow, some arrows and a rather ornate hand-axe. Further examination of the caverns that led off the main one revealed more alchemical ingredients and three large crystalline stones. Both were oddly coloured ~ one being pale brown and the other two a pale pink ~ and completely transparent. It took me a while to realise what I had here, three genuine Ioun Stones. I’d seen these items on one of my visits to Cyrodiil, but knew no more about them than any Commoner would. There was supposed to be some way to use them that gave you magical powers but, because they are so difficult to make, their secrets are well guarded.

Scarcely believing my luck, I continued to investigate the cave, finding a number of ensorcelled charms, a few more scrolls, and a ring. I couldn’t believe this: scarcely three days on the island and I’d found two powerful artefact-rings. For, what I held in my hand was no less a ring than the Battle-Band, an ancient ring of great power. However, it seems that the years had not been kind to it: there were setting for eight stones (Ametrines if I remember the Lore correctly) on the broad golden band, but all eight were missing. Even mutilated as it was, I felt the power of the ring’s magic sweeping through me when I placed it on my finger.

I also found another Restoration Charm, twin to the one I’d found in Addamasartus. Grinning, I put them side by side: imagine, then, my surprise when the two metallic charms shimmered like quicksilver and ran together in the fashion of that rare metal, fusing with one another to make one single charm. I carefully probed the Charm and found that, whilst no more powerful than before, it now had twice the duration of the original item. I’ve seen some very odd things in my life, but that surely ranks as one of the oddest.

I made my way out of Mannamu and found, to my surprise, that a good deal more time had passed than I had thought. The sun was already westering, and it seemed unlikely that I’d make Balmora before nightfall. And, on a strange island such as this one? No way I was planning on walking in the dark ~ who knew what manner of afreets and shades might be abroad. Fortunately, across the road from the very spot I was standing, was a tomb. I deciphered the cartouche (Andrano Card’ruhn) to discover it was the Andrano Ancestral Tomb. Provided I ensured that all of its haunts were dealt with, it would make a sheltered and safe place to spend the night.

Inside the tomb, I had to deal with a couple of unfriendly spirits but ~ to my delight ~ I found that fire-based spells work extremely well against such spectres. In a recess at the back of the tomb I found a skull (which had been inscribed with the rune X), a Chitin dagger with a very powerful cantrip on it, and a small stone chest. The ensorcelled dagger was etched with the runes indicating Divine (DIVINE) and Judgement (JUDGEMENT) in an esoteric version of Aldmeris that I could barely read. Obviously an artefact of some power, I took it for my own. Inside the unlocked box, I found a pale yellow Ioun Stone and another very powerful ring ~ this one the Elementward. Since this would perform a better role for me than the Battle-Band, I swapped the two rings. For some reason I can’t fathom, I also picked up and packed away the skull. I know it was an odd thing to do, but something was telling me that I needed to do this.

The hard stone floor provided cold comfort, but it was better than sleeping outdoors. With that thought in mind, I drifted off into a fitful sleep.