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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“Master,” a soft voice called. “Master, why do you continue to torment me? Wasn’t killing you once enough?” An oddly garbed figure dropped from a ledge in the cavern. He seemed to be wearing some sort of shell on his torso ~ not that I was paying too much attention right then since I was desperately trying to avoid being hit by the big hammer he was wielding.

“Wait!” I said, back-pedalling frantically. “I’m not your master…”

You know that there are those moments when you just instinctively say exactly the wrong thing? This, it seemed, was one of them. The veins stood out on his neck as he roared, “YOU WERE NEVER MY MASTER. I WAS ALWAYS BETTER THAN YOU LHEROS!”

My desperate attempt to soft-talk my way out of the problem had backfired badly and the already demented individual in front of me had now worked himself up into a killing frenzy. Fortunately, a massive hammer isn’t a subtle weapon and, as hammers went, this was humongous. As it crashed into the floor with a resounding thud, I was already two paces away and raising my hands. Little did I know that my day was about to get even worse.

“Exuro meus Hostilis” I said, finalising the structure of the spell in my mind. From my cupped hands a swirling sphere of fire hurled itself towards the Man. As the fire wrapped itself around him, I felt a sudden and unpleasant warmth. I screamed and threw myself on the floor ~ miraculously avoiding a swing that would have pulped my head had it connected ~ and rolled frantically to extinguish the flames that burned on my robe. “Son of a Guar,” I thought, scrabbling to avoid another killing blow and drag out my sword at the same time, “reflection!”

For any magic-user there are two great banes in this world: one being the spell ‘Silence’ and the other being the ability, either innate or induced via magical means, to reflect magic back at the caster. It was just my luck that this raving and homicidal maniac had access to that ability. Since any form of offensive magic was now out of the question, I’d have to rely on fleetness of foot and my skill with a blade. Stendarr protect me, I was in real trouble here.

I scooted under another wild swing, slashing out with my blade as I did so. The lunatic roared again, partially in anger and partially in pain. To my delight, I saw a deep groove had been scored in the pale pink cuirass he wore. Then I yelped in pain ~ my fleetness of foot was going to be hampered by the surely broken toes I’d just received. Hobbling slightly, I avoided another wild blow, stabbing the blade inward and twisting it viciously as it penetrated the armour. He moaned in pain as the blood began to trickle from the wound I’d given him.

There is little to tell of the rest of the fight: it mostly consisted of me keeping the Oblivion out of his way while he slowly bled to death. Of course, I wasn’t averse to adding a few other wounds to the one he already had whenever I got an opening. I couldn’t say how long it was since we’d started to dance, but he suddenly went pale (okay, he was a Man so he went paler) and dropped the hammer. He stood there swaying and swearing softly before collapsing in a heap on the floor. I had two orders of priority. The first was to ensure that this maniac was dead. And the second? To do something about the pain in my foot.

For the first time since entering this cave, I got a chance to look around. There were several dark boulders sticking out of the lighter stone of the cave wall ~ they looked grooved and chipped, as though someone had worked on them with a tool. Up on the ledge was a crude camp, little more than a bedroll and a cooking fire. There was a pot bubbling on the fire and a truly offensive stench was coming from it. Tucked under the pillow of the bedroll was a journal.

The journal of Darinis Parr made for very depressing reading. Early entries spoke of his work with a smith named Lheros and spoke in glowing terms of his (Parr’s) master. However, as the entries continued, there was a deep under-current of malice and jealousy revealed by Parr’s notes. Although he didn’t write it plainly, the last few of the saner entries intimated that he’d killed this Lheros in a fit of jealous rage. I say ‘saner’ because there was no reason at all behind the later entries ~ long rambling discourses on how Parr was the better smith. The last couple of entries were deeply disturbing ~ let’s just say that I wasn’t too surprised at the contents of his cooking pot. Sickened certainly, but not surprised.

The strange shell-like armour Parr wore was wrecked beyond any skill of mine to repair and, I suspected that having it repaired would cost more than it was worth. Around the Man’s neck were hung two rings of exquisite manufacture. And they were deeply magical, although they sang with a note and tone that I’ve never heard before. Being the inquisitive sort, I couldn’t resist trying them on. The smaller and less ornate ring produced a strange tingling sensation in my hands and an odd urge to hold a hammer ~ other than that, it seemed to have no effect on me. Not so the larger ring with the jet-black stone set in it.

My vision blurred alarmingly as I set the ring upon my finger. I was about to tear it off when my gaze happened upon one of those boulders. Instantly I was aware of the rich vein of iron ore running through the rock. Moreover, I could see faint stress-lines in the rock and knew, somehow, that striking the rock there would be the best way to get at the metal within. The other boulders revealed similar faults and valuable ore ~ and one of them had strange crystalline structures in it. It took me a while to realise that I was seeing raw and uncut diamonds.

Lheros? Weren’t the people who ran the public forges known as ‘The Pupils of Lheros’? It was too much to expect this to be a coincidence. Since the only forge with a vendor that I knew of existed in Balmora, I stepped out of the mine and, after placing a Mark at the entrance, I mentally constructed the shape of the translocation spell for the town.

“You?” Daniela Styles said incredulously. “You found Darinis Parr’s hideout and have killed him? Do you have any idea how long we’ve been searching for the wretch?”

Her reluctance to believe me was quickly washed away when I showed her the two rings I’d taken. Visibly shaken, she said, “I’m impressed stranger, Darinis Parr is… was a very dangerous man. You’ve performed a great service for us. Please, accept this gift of two and a half thousand Drakes as a reward. And, if there’s any information you require, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

There was a great deal of information I required, and we spent a while in discourse. I walked away from the encounter knowing that the mining claims can be mined by anyone; that Lheros had written a number of books on the manufacture of armour; and that Lheros’ tomb was near Ald’ruhn and that nobody who went there had ever returned. I also took away a mining axe.

Which is why, a short time later, I was hammering the axe into the boulders inside the mine, giggling like a lunatic as I extracted large quantities of almost pure iron ore from them. When I’d gathered as much as I could carry, I returned to Balmora. There, under the careful tutelage of Daniela Styles, and aided enormously by the other ring, I melted and hammered the ore into several long ingots. Without the books, I had no means of producing anything else other than ingots ~ although Daniela did give me fifty Septims for them.

Well pleased with myself, I returned to Dura gra-Bol’s house and rested up for the night.