The Story of Trey- Chapter 12 Options

[treydog]

Although I had decided to approach House Hlaalu first, I still had some reservations. When I had researched the Great Houses, I had learned enough about Hlaalu and its councilors to be wary. In particular, I was concerned about Crassius Curio. Although he wasn’t the acknowledged leader of Hlaalu, the Imperial councilor was one of the powers to be reckoned with. And even if he was peculiar, he was also extremely able. Add to that the fact that he resided in Vivec, which was full of Ordinators, and my problems were multiplied. Sul-Matuul had warned me that the Temple guardians would be likely to try to kill me first and ask questions after if they knew that I had declared myself Nerevarine. Of course, so far as I knew, no one had denounced me to the Temple- yet. Oddly, that fact made choosing to start with Hlaalu a wiser choice. Theirs was the only House most of whose councilors lived in or near the main seat of the Temple. Better to get in and out before word of my claims reached too many ears. The truth was that I wouldn’t have been happy to be obligated to anyone whose motives I didn’t trust, not just Crassius Curio. The fact that he was a decadent Imperial simply made it worse.

Despite my fears, the Hlaalu councilor was as gracious as ever when I asked to speak with him. He invited me to sit and asked how he could be of service to “one of Redoran’s rising stars.” That complimentary title was his way of telling me that he had sources of information and that he knew who I was. Realizing that the best response would be directness, I asked Crassius to tell me how Hlaalu went about naming a Hortator. The councilor explained that the title was largely honorary, but nevertheless required the unanimous support of the House Council. To achieve that support, one would have to demonstrate that there was a need for a war leader- that a true crisis existed. He then provided a description of the Hortator’s role,

“A Hortator is a champion who leads by inspiration. He challenges opposing heroes in single combat. He goes on long, desperate quests. He goes alone into the citadels of the enemy. He confronts the dangers no one else in the House is strong enough... or courageous enough... to face.”

Much as I disliked that summation, it certainly matched the situation Azura had trapped me into, so I asked if I could become Hlaalu Hortator. As I had expected, Crassius asked for a “small consideration” of 1000 drakes for his vote. He was honest enough to point out that Orvas Dren would NOT support me as things currently stood and that a number of the other councilors would not defy Dren. I willingly paid the bribe and asked Curio for any advice on the other councilors. He listed them and their probable reactions- Dram Bero would likely support me- if I could find him. Yngling Half-Troll would probably need to be “removed.” Nevena Ules and Velanda Omani would follow the lead of Orvas Dren. He suggested that it might be possible to trick or bribe Dren- he could be found at the Dren Plantation. Lord Curio then casually mentioned something that took my breath away- Orvas Dren was the head of the Camonna Tong and was rumored to be involved with the Sixth House. Although my initial reaction was to sharpen my blades and take the shortest path to the Dren Plantation, I restrained the impulse. Considering the influence Dren seemed to wield, killing him might very well prevent me from being named Hortator. And, much as I hated to admit it, sometimes duty took precedence over justice. Finally, Curio gave me directions on how to find most of the other councilors and I took my leave.

Although my mind still whirled with the thought that I would have to go ask a favor of the head of the Camonna Tong, there were other councilors closer by who I could hopefully persuade. Yngling Half-Troll lived in a manor house atop the St. Olms canton, and rumor had it that Dram Bero could also be found somewhere in Vivec. As was true of most Hlaalu councilors, Yngling retained an interesting variety of “hired help,” including a Nord, a Bosmer, and an Orc. Whatever else he might be, Yngling certainly wasn’t biased. Although Crassius had suggested that House Hlaalu wouldn’t mind if Yngling just “disappeared,” I saw no reason to handle their internal squabbles for them. If he was willing to listen, I would do my best to convince Yngling to support me out of his own self-interest. After hearing my story, the Nord proved himself to be as direct as those folk usually are-

“Well, tha’s very interestin’, I’m sure. But it will take 2000 drakes if you want my vote.”

That seemed a small price to pay to achieve my goal and to avoid having yet another death on my conscience, so I willingly paid. It was also gratifying to avoid getting entangled in the Hlaalu power struggle. If Crassius wanted Yngling removed, he would just have to find someone else to do the deed.

The thought of finding someone reminded me- I still needed to find Dram Bero. A few careful questions and judiciously spent coins revealed the fact that the elusive Hlaalu councilor was occasionally seen on the St. Olms plaza, the very place where I found myself. Considering how the Hlaalu seemed to prefer to settle disputes, I wasn’t surprised that one of their councilors chose to conceal his whereabouts. It’s hard to assassinate someone if you don’t know how to find him.

[treydog]

I resolved to try Master Neloth next, as Tel Naga stood in the center of Sadrith Mora. By returning to Sadrith Mora, I would also be able to speak to the other Mouths and hopefully discover how their patrons might react. One thing seemed certain- my dealings with the Telvanni were likely to prove unpredictable. Still, happy to have a plan, even one that probably had small chance of success, I made my way to the Council House. The Telvanni guards seemed to have become used to seeing me around, as indicated by their cheery greetings, such as: “Annoying outlander,” and “Find someone else to bother.” Although the sense of fellowship was similar, the Telvanni hails lacked the zest of the Vivec Ordinators’ “We’re watching you…scum.” Still, I was happy to see that I was making a good impression on my Telvanni hosts. Ignoring the guards, I besought Arara Uvulas, Mouth for Master Neloth. Believing that the tone of Arara’s message to Neloth could affect my chances of success, I offered the Mouth a “gift” of 200 septims “for her valuable time.” How valuable her time really was, since she seemed to spend all of it standing on a platform staring into space, I did not bother to contemplate too deeply. The bribe lightened her frown considerably and she listened politely, if impassively, to my tale. I wondered why I couldn’t just ask all the Mouths to pay attention and tell the blasted story once, but that was not “how things were done” in House Telvanni. All of the other obviously eavesdropping Mouths would pretend that they had no idea who I was or what I wanted, and I would get to run through the whole exercise again, and again. I suppose that when you spend your days standing on a platform, staring into space, and mentally communing with an ancient wizard, you take your amusement where you can find it.

As I had expected, Arara told me that the matter was too important for her and that I should speak directly to Neloth. His tower of Tel Naga arose from the center Sadrith Mora, a massive structure of spiky branches and bulbous growths. Although the tower was impressive in its immensity, it seemed somehow misshapen, as if the mind that had guided its growth was somehow cramped and unable to stretch to new heights. I wondered if a Telvanni tower’s shape reflected the mind of its resident wizard; and, if so, what that might mean for my mission. There was but one way to find out, so I took a deep breath and plunged ahead. Surprisingly, the two retainers I encountered in the Tel Naga entry hall were quite pleasant. Either Arara had kept her promise, and sent word ahead, or these Telvanni were unlike most others. After a quick look around the entry, I espied a doorway to the upper tower, perched in a balcony-like opening across the hall from me. Clearly, the only way to reach the interior door was via levitation- standard practice in most Telvanni residences. Knowing of that particular affectation from my time in Tel Fyr, I had mixed a sufficiency of potions to serve the purpose. Although I had learned to cast a levitation spell, it was chancy at best and tended to wear off at unfortunate times. So I was quite happy to trust in better living through alchemy, and imbibed a potion which allowed me to float across the hall, through the door, and up the central “fly-well.” A number of chambers branched off of the well at different levels, but I suspected that Neloth would follow the practice of using the highest chamber as his workspace.

In that chamber I found a fiercely scowling, ornately dressed Dunmer, who was in the process of complaining about something to a Telvanni retainer. When he saw me, he stopped in mid-tirade and transferred his glare to me. A look of relief flitted across the retainer’s features before he schooled them to stillness. From Aryon’s description, the personable Dunmer in the gold robes must be Master Neloth. His response to my initial greeting confirmed his identity, as he growled,

“Whatever you want, the answer is no.”

As Neloth’s grumpiness was well known, I had been prepared for his surly response. With a theatrical sigh, I allowed my shoulders to slump and cast my eyes downward as if my hopes had been crushed. I also let the bag of gold I was holding in my left hand clink invitingly as it just happened to swing against my leg. Glancing upward, I saw Neloth’s eyes sharpen at the sound.

“Alas,” I intoned in a grief-stricken voice. “To have traveled to fabled Tel Naga to give this gift of 1000 septims to the renowned Master Neloth in furtherance of his research, only to be turned away. Where shall I go now? Perhaps Master Aryon or Baladas Demnevanni will be more interested. Forgive my thoughtless intrusion, Master Neloth. I should have realized that something as insignificant as 1000 septims would not concern so great a wizard.”

With another sigh, I began to turn away. Neloth’s scowl had been replaced by a look of greed and startlement. He snaked a bony hand out to grasp my shoulder and said,

“Wait, Outlander. Perhaps I was a trifle hasty. My studies have not gone well of late and other issues have vexed me. But even so, I would not be so uncouth as to turn down a thoughtful gift.”

His eyes unerringly focused on the bag of coins and lit with glee as I passed it over. Thus encouraged, I launched into my story. Even though Arara was supposed to have communicated all of this, I knew that the Mouths didn’t always tell their patrons everything. And I could understand why Arara would not want to provoke the unpredictable Neloth. It soon became clear that Arara’s judgment had been sound, for Master Neloth’s face quickly went through several interesting variations of color, none of which spoke of a healthy blood pressure. His frown returned full force, and he said,

“What are you going on about? Prophecies, visions, superstitious jibber-jabber? Don't interrupt me with that nonsense. Go bother some bone-through-the-nose shaman or bug-eating wise woman.”

Perhaps there was some elegant and clever solution to this situation. Possibly I could have discovered some artifact or ingredient that would have improved Neloth’s disposition. But such a solution would take time, a commodity I feared I did not have. What I did have was gold, and I would spend it like water if I must. I clapped a dramatic hand to my forehead and said,

“Forgive me, my lord. What I meant to say was that I have another 500 septims to aid you in your research.”

As I had hoped, that thawed the old boy right out, and he said,

“Well, why didn’t you say so? Hortator? War leader of House Telvanni? Is that necessary? Why doesn't anyone tell me about these things? So. Do you want the job? Are you qualified? Good. Then go ahead. I don't care. Be the Hortator. Now go away.”

Not the most ringing endorsement, perhaps, but good enough for my purposes. I quickly disappeared down the central fly-well and contemplated my next move. Therana and Dratha, the two female Telvanni councilors, were left. Each presented a problem- Therana was reputed to be so far around the bend she was likely to meet herself coming the other way, and Dratha disliked males, whatever their race. I had a feeling that my previous problems with women had done nothing to prepare me to deal with those two.