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]

Spiders? Why did she have to mention spiders? I have admitted before that I have a phobia regarding undead- that, in fact, they scare me. But at least the undead are, or at least were, human. Spiders are alien creatures, with far too many legs and a bad habit of running toward you when they are startled. It had been a great relief to me that I had not encountered any of the giant arachnids that were known to inhabit other provinces of Tamriel. In truth, I had sort of considered the absence of spiders a fair exchange for the lack of horses. But now, Therana was asking me if I had come to feed the spiders…. And that was the sort of question that could have a number of meanings, all of them unpleasant. Realizing that I had been standing there, mouth agape, for some time, I shook myself and replied,

“No, Mistress Therana, I am here on House Telvanni business.”

Her response to that attempt was even less rational than her initial greeting.

“It's a funny sort of house, with all those glowing blue crystals all over it. Did I ever tell you about when I was a little girl? I always liked going to the house. That's where everyone keeps their toys. Are you listening to me? You'd better be. Yes, that's better. No need to do that. I'd offer you something, but I'm all out of kwama eggs.”

In truth, listening to her dry voice as she nattered on about nothing was causing my eyes to glaze over. Therana had no need of powerful spells- she could simply talk an opponent to death. Seeking to get her mind onto a different track, I waved a hand to regain her wandering attention and said firmly,

“Actually, Mistress, I wanted to speak to you about the Telvanni Hortator.”

The look of vacant madness in her eyes was replaced by one of concentrated thought. Almost against my will, I dared to hope that my words had gotten through. Then she spoke.

“It's a steel box, of course. You keep things like bittergreen roots in it, keeps 'em fresh, with a little netch blood. Or is that a hormador? Yes. Or spiders. In the box. Spider eggs. Keeps 'em fresh. With netch blood. You wouldn't have any with you, eh? Spider eggs? Nice fresh ones? So, go ahead. Show me the hordador. Hormador? You got it with you? Always happy to get some fresh spider eggs. Or spiders? When I was a MUCH younger, we grew our own spiders...”

I stifled a groan. She was thinking about a humidor! Maybe if I waited long enough, she would work her way around to the point. It would help if she would stop talking about spiders, though. Truth be told, there was something rather spidery about Therana herself, now that I thought about it. As I pushed that speculation away, I realized she was still droning on:

“...In hormadors. Big ones. Needed 'em big, for the spiders. What? Spiders? You listening? Spiders. That's what I said. Big ones. So you need a big hortator. Ours was steel, with silver plating. Kier-jo used to polish it. Cute little kitty. Had it since it was a bitty kitty. Gone now, of course. Dropped dead. They get old, and you have to get new ones. Never quite as good as the old ones, of course, but what can you do. Oh! There you are, Trey! What was your name again?”

Again, as she droned on, I felt my attention wandering. The overheated, stuffy atmosphere and Therana’s voice were putting me to sleep. A sudden sizzling sound roused me from my stupor and my eyes flew open to see the sorceress glaring madly at me as a partially formed fireball danced on her fingertips.

“Are you listening to me?” she growled.

“Yes, Mistress Therana. Absolutely. Spiders,” I babbled in response.

Clearly, just letting her talk wasn’t going to work. I needed to get her attention, hold it, amuse her sufficiently to listen to me, and then get her focused on naming me Hortator. Simple, really. No harder than juggling bottles of naptha and lit torches while riding a half-trained horse at a full gallop over a cobblestone street. While singing the Cyrodiilic anthem. All 50 verses. In Orcish. Despite my monumental irritation with Azura, I was sorely tempted to call upon the goddess for help. But then I would be indebted to her, and who knew where that might lead? No, I was just going to have to handle this one myself. While I had been musing over my bleak prospects, Therana had managed to put herself to sleep where she stood and her face had assumed a rather child-like quality. If one could imagine a several thousand-year-old, spider-obsessed child, anyway. But that gave me an idea. I had been attempting to deal with the cracked Telvanni as an adult. What I needed to do was approach her as I would a child- granted, a child who could fry me where I stood, but still…. Moving carefully and quietly, I gathered up a half-dozen of the rubies and emeralds that were scattered around the room.

Clearing my throat, I did my best vocal impersonation of a trumpet fanfare and intoned loudly,

“Ladies and gentlemen! Children of all ages! Prepare to be amazed by the prestidigitatory talents of the Great Treyfini!”

That roused Therana, and she looked up with a cut-off snore as I began juggling the gemstones in a shower over my head. Once I was sure I had her full, wide-eyed attention, I began throwing the gems into the air and catching them one at a time. All except the last one. When it didn’t “come down” I began to look around, then reached behind her left ear and “produced” the large emerald. True to my expectations, she was as entranced as a small child.

“Goodness. Where did you learn how to do that? Can you do it again? Oooo! Very pretty! Do it again! Oh, please? Please?”

Next, I placed the gem in her hand and closed the spidery fingers tightly around it, saying, “You, too, can do magic. If you concentrate very hard, rap your fist three times with your other hand, and say the magic words, the gem will vanish. She goggled at me, then said, “What are the magic words? Tell me, tell me!”

I looked around conspiratorially and then said,

“The magic words are, ‘I name Trey Hortator.’”

Her lips moved silently, then she spoke clearly,

“Oh, certainly. I have a hormador around here somewhere, if you'll just.... Oh. You want to be a Hortator? Certainly. Go right ahead. Right after you do that thing again.”

When she opened her fist, the emerald was gone, replaced by a ruby. Her eyes glowed with merriment and she cackled,

“That's amazing! Oh, goody, goody....”

With that, she fell into a deep contemplation of the light sparkling in the depths of the stone and fell asleep. And I quickly left the way I had come. She had said the words, and all that was left was to tell Gothren. I had a feeling that the look on his face was going to be almost as entertaining as my impromptu magic act.