The Tale of Sudhendra Vahl: Part 2 Options

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The Tale of Sudhendra Vahl : Part Two
The Dunmer at the next table were discussing the haunting at the Gateway Inn, and complaining that they were being forced to curtail their business in Sadrith Mora since there was nowhere for them to stay. I remembered Prefect Angaredhel saying something about one of the Telvanni representatives looking into the problem. Perhaps I should look into it myself ~ and this Arara Uvulas seemed like a good place to start. I finished up my drink and headed down to the slave-market. Nodding to a couple of very muscular House Telvanni guards, I crossed the bridge towards the Council House. I say “bridge”, actually, it looked more like a root that had been flattened out on top and had coincidentally joined the Council Hall to the side of the cliff. (It would take quite a while before I got used to Telvanni “architecture”).

Inside the cool and dark building, a well-dressed Dunmer woman directed me to the council chamber. Behind the round wooden door was a large, circular chamber. The centre of the chamber was dominated by a massive crystal growth ~ from which a strange bluish-green light and a faint humming noise emanated. Around the outer radius of the chamber were a number of platforms, raised about head-height from the floor. On all but two of these stood well-dressed and aloof-looking Dunmer: the representatives of the Telvanni Council. Actually, it’s a little more complex than that, but I’ll try to clarify the status quo as I go on).

“Yes, I investigated the haunting at the Gateway,” the dark-haired Arara Uvulas said in response to my question. “At first it seemed like a traditional manifestation, even though the Gateway is a relatively new building and has no history of foul murder or dirty deeds. Nor, indeed, is it built on any known burial ground or religious site. I performed the standard exorcism, which seemed to work at the time. However, I’d barely left the chamber when the ghost came back again.

“I’ve tried several rituals and incantations since, but none of them work for more than a moment or two. I am, quite frankly, at a loss to explain why this spirit keeps reappearing and am beginning to suspect that there is some malicious intent behind it. A conjuration expert perhaps? However, I’m interested in why you’re interested.”

I couldn’t really explain why I was interested, and mumbled something about studying the application of magic. That seemed to arouse her interest in me even more, and she asked me to stay right where I was while she conferred with her fellow representatives. I didn’t see the harm in that, and stood there while they all closed their eyes and somehow spoke to each other. Don’t ask me how, because I won’t be telling you. Anyway, after a few moments silent communion, Arara Uvulas turned to me and asked, “Would you be interested in joining Great House Telvanni?”

“Let me tell you the rules of the house,” she went on, seeing that I was having some trouble framing a reply. “Then, perhaps, you’ll be able to make a decision.

“If you steal from another Telvanni, but still live, then clearly you deserve whatever you stole. Murdering your opponents by magic or treachery is the traditional way of settling disputes. If you win, then clearly your argument has more merit. You may be expelled as in any other Great House, but most Telvanni will not care or even know about it. These are the principle rules of Great House Telvanni, do you think you can abide by them?”

“Are there no other rules?” I asked, intrigued. That ‘if you murder your opponent and get away with it, your argument has more merit’ clause probably explained the strange behaviour of the Telvanni in Tel Naga after I fulfilled the bounty on Engaer.

“Power,” Uvulas said. “The acquisition of and exercise of power be it financial, magical, physical, or some other form of power. That’s the only other rule of the House. Now, tell me, can you abide by our rules and do you wish to join Great House Telvanni?”

I was, to be honest, feeling a little numb. I’d always been a loner, both with those that called themselves my parents and in the intervening years. I’d joined the Fighters Guild out of self-interest and, while they’d shown some interest in me, it was purely a professional one. I’d been rewarded for jobs done well and given fresh jobs to do. However, I’d had to ask to join the Guild, they hadn’t asked me. Now here was one of the ruling houses of Morrowind province asking, actually asking, if I was interested in becoming a part of their House. With a lump in my throat, I said that I’d be honoured to be counted a member of Great House Telvanni.

“Then,” Arara Uvulas said, “let me be the first to welcome you Hireling Vahl. May your presence in the House reflect well on all of us. For the moment, you will take your instruction from us, the Mouths of the Councillors. Likewise, we will answer any questions you have and give you instruction in the ways of the House. Now, I have a small task for you.”

“May I ask you a question?” when she indicated that I could, I continued. “I don’t understand. I thought that you were the Telvanni Council, yet you say that you represent the Telvanni Council.”

“Yes Sudhendra,” she explained. “The people we represent, the Masters of Great House Telvanni, rarely meet. Yet it is important that members of the Great House can pass messages to them, or perform duties for them, without having to travel to isolated places. That’s where we come in. we each represent a Master and speak for them in this forum ~ hence the title ‘Mouth’. I represent Master Neloth of Tel Naga. And right now, Master Neloth has need of five portions of Sload Soap. Here are five hundred Septims ~ you may keep any change.”

Taking the money, I walked out of the Council Chamber into the cool, damp, darkness of the outer corridors. “Excuse me,” I asked the Dunmer female nearby, “but do you know where I might be able to get some Sload Soap?”

“Your best bet is Anis Seloth,” the woman said. “She usually has a large supply of the rarer alchemical ingredients.”

“Thank you…” I said.

“Dalyne Arvel, Hireling,” she introduced herself.

“Sudhendra Vahl, Hireling,” I said by way of a reply. She smiled and welcomed me to Great House Telvanni. She then gave me concise directions on how to find Seloth’s shop. I was to find that news spread quickly in Great House Telvanni and, even before I stepped out of the Council Hall, people in Sadrith Mora knew I was part of the Great House. Even the guards, who’d mostly addressed me as “outlander” or (more frequently) “scum” were more kindly disposed to me. One of the burly guards protecting the entrance to the Council Chambers even went so far as to say “Fair day to you Muthsera.”

I found Anis Seloth’s shop easily enough; it was a large mushroom perched on a steep ridge overlooking the slave-market. Anis, herself, was a petite Dunmer who always gave the impression of being rushed off her feet. However, she was well supplied with a variety of potions and ingredients, and she had more than enough Sload Soap to fulfil Arara Uvulas’ requirements: the only matter now was the price. Anis Seloth was more than willing to haggle over the price and I eventually got a good price on the five packets of white, waxy Soap: two hundred and forty-three Septims. This left me a healthy two hundred and fifty-seven Septims profit. Well pleased with myself, I returned to the Council Chamber and handed the packets to Neloth’s Mouth.

After thanking me, she asked if I was willing to undertake another task for her Master. “Master Neloth collects staves,” she said. “And he has heard that someone at the Mages Guild at Wolverine Hall has a staff of the Silver Dawn. He very much wishes to add it to his collection…”

“Say no more,” I interrupted. “It will be my pleasure to fetch the staff for Master Neloth’s collection.” I waited a moment, but it was obvious that no clink was forthcoming. That meant that the lovely profit I’d made would probably be spent on the staff. Remember what I said about the gods and their japes?

I walked over to Wolverine Hall and made my way up to the Mages Guild. As luck would have it, the first person I spoke to was a Mage by the name of Arielle Phiencel, and it was Arielle Phiencel who had the Staff of Silver Dawn in her possession. Unfortunately she wouldn’t accept less than three hundred Drakes for it. Rather begrudgingly I handed over the money and took possession of the staff. It sang with that sweet magical note that all ensorcelled items have (for me, at least) but it certainly didn’t look very prepossessing. The silver was badly tarnished, and there were areas that looked like they’d been scorched with something fairly acidic. Still, a Staff of the Silver Dawn was what was required, and this was one.

As I turned to leave, a thought struck me. “Tell me,” I asked Arielle Phiencel, “who is the best at conjuration here?”

“That would be Uleni Heleran,” the Breton replied. “She teaches a course here at the Guild. Why?” By dint of some careful questioning, I managed to draw out some useful information. Namely that Uleni Heleran has been teleporting in and out of the Guildhall quite frequently of late. I was also told that Heleran had some sort of grudge against ‘someone in town’.

“I know what you’re doing,” I said to Uleni Heleran. At first, she tried to deny it but soon admitted that it was she who was conjuring up the spectre at the Gateway Inn. I persuaded her that it might have been fun to start with, but that the “joke” was wearing thin. She postured a bit longer, claiming that Angaredhel had fined her for not applying for Hospitality Papers when she arrived here. However, she soon relented and gave me a note ~ which she called “ghost-free papers” (a sad joke on Hospitality Papers I suppose) ~ to give to Angaredhel, along with a promise that she would stop her conjurations at the Gateway.

I stopped off at the Gateway Inn on my way back to the Telvanni Council Chambers and spoke to Angaredhel. As I expected, he was bloody furious when he found out that Uleni Heleran was responsible. When he’d calmed down a bit, he fetched out a small tray and showed it to me. “You’ve done well Ser Vahl,” he said. “For stopping that wretch from ruining me, please choose a ring.” There, on the tray, sat three very traditional rings: the burnished bronze and topaz of a Thieves’ Ring; the mottled copper and turquoise of a Fighters’ Ring; and the polished silver and jadeite of a Mages’ Ring. Naturally, I chose the Mages’ Ring.

“This is exactly what Master Neloth is looking for,” Arara Uvulas said as I handed over the staff. “It’s not particularly potent, but its spells are useful in a pinch. Do you know any combat-magic Ser Vahl?” when I admitted that I only knew a few spells, Uvulas took the time to teach me a cantrip designed to blind an enemy. I thanked her profusely, knowing that I’d gained just a little more knowledge. And knowledge, as every Telvanni knows, is power.

“If you feel up to more tasks today Hireling,” a clear voice called across the chamber. “I have a small job for you to undertake.” The speaker was Felisa Ulessen, Mouth to a Mistress Therana. I went over to speak to her.

“I have a skirt here that needs to be delivered to my Mistress at Tel Branora.” Lowering her voice, she added, “My Mistress can be a little… eccentric at times. Please take these scrolls in case you need them.”

Looking at the scrolls of ALMSIVI Intervention, I asked the obvious question, “where is Tel Branora?” Ulessen showed me on my map, adding that a boat was probably the best way to get there. Perhaps, perhaps not, I thought as I looked at the tiny islet far to the south on my map. Taking the skirt, I stood and spoke in a clear, concise voice “Ex hic absum, ut Ald’ruhn.”

To my delight, Delas Mrania had a Void-Walk spell for Tel Branora, which I promptly purchased. Then I had the Guild-Guide service send me to Balmora so I could rest for the night.

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I stepped out into the hazy Balmoran sunlight after a quick meal of fried Kwama eggs and cast the cantrip that would take me all the way across the island (and quite a way south) to Tel Branora. I staggered slightly on the uneven planks of the dock I arrived on. I had passed through Tel Branora late at night on my way back from Molag Mar. To be honest, it looked no less a dump in the daylight than it had that night. A small clutch of rude wooden huts clustered around a rough wooden dock. Of course, I’d not yet learned that, for most Telvanni, the dock wasn’t the way they’d be arriving.

As I made my way towards the tower, I spotted a little group standing on the hillside. A Dunmeri female seemed to be in charge, and she had with her a number of soldiers, mercenaries I guess. From their short stature I thought they were probably Bosmeri. I had no idea what they were up to, and even less interest.

The tower of Tel Branora loomed before me, tall and convoluted. Taking a deep breath ~ this was, after all, the first time I’d encountered a high-ranking Telvanni ~ I stepped onto the bridge and crossed to the base of the mushroom-tower. A few questions of the guards soon had me walking up the spiral “branch” that wound around the tower until I reached the top. Stepping through the small, round, wooden door, I was faced with a series of interconnected chambers that finally led up to a room in the top of the tower. It looked like a whirlwind had blown through it ~ books and ornaments were scattered everywhere. Two Dunmer were arguing vociferously, and it looked like they’d punctuated their arguments with their fists. I had to virtually scream at them before I could get their attention.

“Which way to Therana’s chambers?” I asked. Immediately they pointed in opposite directions, each aiming a finger at one of the two bronze doors in the chamber. Almost instantly they started arguing acrimoniously as to which of them was giving me the right directions. Under other circumstances, it might even have been amusing but it left me wondering if everyone in this tower didn’t qualify for the label “eccentric”.

I chose one of the two doors and stepped through into a small chamber with a corridor leading directly upwards. I’d been warned about this and had thought to invest in a levitation potion before setting off here. The purplish-coloured liquid had a strange, oily taste but I swallowed it down and started to walk on air. Before long I found myself in a corridor that stretched laterally across the top of the tower. Walking along it, I came to a large, well-lit chamber. There inside, dressed in a flowing red robe with a raised collar that framed a wizened face and a shock of grey hair, stood a regal looking Dunmer.

“Are you the new servant dear?” the woman asked as I stepped into the chamber. “Or have you come to feed the spiders?” (There was something about the way she emphasised feed and spiders that made me feel cold).

“Felisa Ulessen sent me,” I replied, fetching the skirt out of my pack. “She’s sent you the skirt you wanted.”

The woman cocked her head to one side and looked at me for a long moment. “How do I know you’ve not put a curse on it you nasty child?” she suddenly shouted, spittle flying from her lips as blood suffused her face. “Think I’m a fool do you Therana? Ha, no I know better than that. You put it on. Put it on now.”

I blinked in surprise at the trembling woman. Her fingers were twitching convulsively and her mouth was working as though she were chewing something hard. I didn’t know who my mother was, but one thing is certain, she didn’t give birth to a fool. Therana’s whole attitude was deeply disconcerting and the thought of actually putting on the skirt ~ pretty though it was ~ scared the spit out of me for reasons I couldn’t rightly put a finger on. I had a better idea.

“You, Khajiiti,” I said to the feline at the back of the chamber. “Your mistress wishes you to wear this skirt.”

“You want Khajiit skirt to wear?” the Suthay-Raht asked. I nodded and shoved the garment into its hands. It looked down, puzzled, then gave a shrug and stepped into it. “There, Khajiit wear skirt n…”

“Dirty little thief,” Therana roared, shoving me aside. I fell heavily, being unprepared and, as I raised my head there was a brilliant light, a sudden warmth, and a horrible smell. I rolled over, scrambling away from the smouldering ruins of the Khajiit in horror.

“Tell Felisa I wanted a Khajiit-fur skirt,” Therana hissed, shoving her face into mine. Then, with a horrible grin of triumph, she help up this bloody scrap of fur and added, “Don’t need one now. I can make my own.”

Somehow I made it outside before voiding the contents of my stomach. Weak as a kitten… no, that wasn’t a thought I really wanted right now. Pale and shaking, I stood in the breeze until the stench of burning fur washed out of my nostrils. The sight of Therana, gleefully tying a scrap of gore-drenched fur about her waist wouldn’t go away ~ and I guessed it would be a time before it would.

When I was recovered some, I spoke the cantrip that would return me to Sadrith Mora and made my way back into the Telvanni Council Chambers to speak to Felisa Ulessen. She took one look at my pale face and nodded sympathetically. She paid me a thousand Septims for having delivered the skirt, and then asked if I knew the spells Mark and Recall.

“No, I don’t,” I said. She proceeded to teach me the spells, saying that they were much better than relying on ALMSIVI or Divine Intervention spells. I thanked her for her time and started to move off.

“I have another job for you Hireling Vahl,” she said. I turned and looked at her coldly.

“I wish nothing further to do with your Mistress,” I said.