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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The morning was bright and beautiful, and I regretted that I had to leave the stark beauty of West Gash for the dusty streets of Ald’ruhn. Still, I had a task to undertake and sooner started, sooner finished as they say. The manor houses of the authorities were built “Under Skar”, so that is where I headed. Under Skar is an amazing structure ~ as unique in it’s way as any Tel of the Telvanni Mage-Lords. At some point, vast oceans must have covered Vvardenfell for here, atop the stairs that led to the plaza, stood the fossilised shell of a crab. And not just any crab, for this one was hundreds of paces in circumference and towered high above as you approached. Part of the shell was buried under the weight of solidified lava; yet bore the weight with ease.

Inside, just enough light filtered through the shell to give the interior a pleasant glow. Huge suspended walkways arched across the vast openness of the carapace’s interior vault and, set into the walls of the shell at various points were beautifully crafted wooden doors. The manors were all arrayed around the upper part of the shell while, down below, several banners hung limply to indicate the various tradesmen that had established themselves here. A guard impatiently directed me to the abode of Athyn Sarethi.

I wandered through opulent hallways and large rooms crammed with exquisitely carved furniture until I arrived at the private quarters of the Mer I sought. For a warrior clan, they certainly did like their creature comforts ~ no noble’s house I’d seen had ever been this well appointed. I introduced myself to Athyn Sarethi and spoke of my reasons for being there ~ the interview did not go well.

“An interesting point Telvanni,” he commented when I’d finished. “But I fail to see why you have come to me, thinking I would be of assistance.”

“Master Aryon said that you and he have had dealings in the past,” I said quickly as he started to turn dismissively. “He said you were an honest and fair-minded Mer.”

“Aryon?” There was a moment when I thought he was going to say more, and then he turned and addressed me directly. “So you’re Aryon’s latest protégée are you? Hmm, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to help in this matter.

“My advice to you is twofold. You are more likely to win agreement from the councillors if you make an appeal to their sense of fairness than by any other method. That’s my first piece of advice. The second is, do not try to enlist Bolvyn Venim: he his a gifted leader but not one known for his sense of fair-play or cooperation with the other Great Houses.”

“And your support for this proposal?” I asked.

He glared at me, speaking with an icy calmness, “My support for the proposal is a given young lady. Where it otherwise, I would not have given you any assistance in this matter.”

As I walked away, I distinctly heard him mutter “Telvanni impudence, it’ll be the ruination of them all”. I suspect that I was intended to overhear the comment but, other than straightening my back, I gave no sign that I’d heard anything.

For the next few hours, I wandered through the halls and chambers of Redoran territory, each door or turn of the corridor opening up onto new vistas of opulence. Often I got lost in the labyrinthine tunnels that extended behind the simple doors that led into the luxurious residences of these Warrior-Councillors but, by dint of accosting people in the corridor and asking for directions, I soon reached my targets. Sarethi’s advice proved to be extremely useful and not one of the councillors I approached failed to agree to our proposal. Although I was required to only get three statements of approval, I visited all of the Redoran councillors in turn ~ just in case one should change his or her mind at a later date.

With five potential consenting votes, I stepped out of the shell and spoke the words that would recall me to Master Aryon’s chambers. He was delighted at my success, rewarding me with an embroidered glove. This may seem somewhat of a poor offering for my work but rest assured, it was not. For, woven into the fabric of the glove was a powerful enchantment that could control the minds of Men and Mer.

“While you were gone,” Master Aryon said, “I received a message from Shishi. Ironically, given your last assignment, it seems that Great House Redoran has taken a dislike to Faves Andas’ close proximity to what they consider their territory. I need you to go to Shishi and sort out the problem.” He showed me the location of the Velothi tower on my map. “North of Ald’ruhn is the Redoran town of Maar Gan, nearby runs the Foyada Bani-Dad. Shishi is about halfway along the Foyada.”

As I rode the silt-strider from Ald’ruhn to Maar Gan, I smiled to myself. Given that Shishi would be, at most, an hour’s walk from the small religious site, it was no wonder that Great House Redoran was disturbed that it was Telvanni property. Careful study of my map showed me what Master Aryon had neglected to mention ~ Odirniran, with it’s control of the ocean approaches to the south and Shishi, which dominated the only easy route north from more Imperial controlled territory. And Tel Vos itself, with its commanding views of the northern ocean approaches to Telvanni territory. Each of the sites of the strongholds had been carefully chosen for their strategic advantage ~ one of the advantages when you have several lifetimes to consider how to deploy your forces is that your forces are deployed to your benefit.

Maar Gan was small, squalid, and dusty. Like some timid creature in its hole, it nestled between massive rocky crags ~ baking slowly in the heat of the midday sun. The one Tradehouse was as slow and sleepy as the rest of the village but it did afford me the opportunity to purchase a bandana to go across my mouth and several skins of water. The water I’d probably not need but I’d seen several people in Ald’ruhn with cloth across their mouth ~ walking through the dusty streets of Maar Gan made me appreciate what a fine idea the style was. It might not look too stylish, but at least I wouldn’t be spitting out dust for a week. I also purchased a well-polished silver dagger.

My journey along the Foyada Bani-Dad wasn’t particularly onerous, apart from the persistent attentions of a number of Cliff-Racers. I did have one moment where I had some fun. A pair of Dunmer, probably bandits or Ashlanders, took exception to me walking through their camp and chased me for a mile or so before loosing interest. Of course, my idea of fun isn’t to be perused by a pair of cursing bandits but, in this desolate wilderness, you take what you can find. All of the running did have its advantages; it left the pair floundering at the attentions of those bedamned Cliff-Racers that had, up until then, been chasing me. It also had the advantage of bringing me to Shishi that much sooner.

Mindful of my last exercise in infiltration, I approached Shishi with a great deal more caution than I’d shown at Odirniran. I had with me some of the grease I’d gathered in Nchuleft, and I used this to lubricate the door to the tower before opening it just wide enough for me to slide inside. The foyer was similar to the one in Odirniran, a large empty space with a single door leading deeper into the stronghold. Once more I greased the hinges and opened the door carefully. Squatting down, I drew the dagger I’d purchased in Maar Gan and held it out through the gap. By angling the blade, I was able to gain a relatively clear view of the corridor ~ clear enough to see a pair of feet sticking around the corner.

The owner of those feet wasn’t about to come walking around the corner any time soon though, nor walk anywhere again for that matter. They belonged to a young and very dead Dunmeri woman. The deep cuts and congealed blood around her told their own story. Nor was she the last servant I found in such a state.

It was with steadily mounting fury that I stalked the corridors of Shishi. Gore splattered beds in one chamber bore witness to the massacre there, a trail of blood told its own sorry tale elsewhere. Death: the wanton and mindless killing of innocent and defenceless servants greeted me at every turn. As I surveyed one particularly bloody scene, I smiled. I very much wanted to meet those responsible for this, and I wanted to look them in the eye as their souls went screaming into the void.

The woman, clad in steel armour barely knew what hit her. The Atronach, formed from the very stones of the building, tore into her ~ driven by the incandescent rage I felt. Huge fists crumpled steel like parchment as wreaths of lightning danced around the bloodied figure. Leaving her to whatever tender mercies an Atronach might show, I pressed deeper into the building.

“We’ve searched every inch of the building,” I heard a voice complain from the upper area of the dome. “Every room, every corridor. I tell you, he isn’t here.”

“He must be,” a second voice commented. “A Telvanni necromancer would never leave his tower.”

“And where’s Anise?” the first voice said. “She needs to get this report over to Venim so he can send reinforcements. There’s no way the three of us can hold this place if that necromancer’s still here.”

During this exchange, I’d been moving as stealthily as I could up the stairs. I knew that the stairwell would be visible to anyone who chanced to look over the low railing, but I was counting on that. There was a sudden stillness at the top of the stairs and the faintest hint of an indrawn breath. Then the second voice said, “if I were you, I’d ransack those shelves over there, see if you can find any clues as to where that Telvanni might be hiding.”