Agent, Ebonheart's finest Options

[jack cloudy]

Yesterday was my birthday so here's my belated gift to all of you. The start of a new fanfic! (Wings of Light will be continued as well.) You may notice a shift of focus compared to my earlier fanfics.




Agent.
Chapter 1: In training.

My knees were shivering. For a good reason, I might say as the Duke towering over me looked very intimidating in his heavy suit of Ebony armour. Just to compare the two of us, the helmet would have been enough to crush me. Also, being dressed in cheap rags has never been a good source of courage. As it was, I had more than enough reasons to be afraid of him.

Who am I? I no longer use the name I was born with. I changed it upon my arrival here on Vvardenfell. Now I finally I have a name I can spell. Anyway, my name is Ro-El Frost. Sounds Khajiit? Maybe, but I am really closer related to the Nords, though without the muscles, the alcohol tolerance, the noise and without the size. Go figure.

The Duke turned to a man wearing some sort of golden armour. Probably the boss of the guard who was blocking the only way out of the room.
,,Is this the kid you were talking about?” The Duke asked with a stern voice. This did not sound well.
,,Yes, that’s the one.” Was the equally stern reply. This was one of those moments that your life would start to fly past your eyes.

How did I get here? Well, I don’t really know to be honest. People claim I must have been on the Skooma to have forgotten how I ever found myself in that mine. I didn’t like it there. The slavers forced me to do hard labour every day. I could feel my life slowly seep away with every single egg I harvested. I had to get out.

My plan took time but it worked in the end, except for one small detail. I harvested some poison one of the Kwama warriors had been spitting at the wall and mixed it with my food for the day. The day after that, I dumped it into the lake that was somehow inside the mine. The food had been swallowed by the Slaughterfish before I’d stepped away. The next part of my plan was the hardest. I’d been warned that the smell of their queen’s blood puts the Kwama into a killing frenzie. This information was meant so that the slaves were careful not to kill themselves, but it could also be used to my advantage.

So as you might guess, tapping blood from the queen is a potentially lethal act. Fortunately, I knew that by tapping just a little through a tiny wound made with my fingernail, the Kwama would not even notice. I carefully kept the blood sealed away inside a bottle till after four days, I’d finally collected enough. That night came the last part of my masterplan.

I managed to convince the slaves to go swimming in the lake, after showing them that the Slaughterfish had died through my act of poisoning. Next, I sprinkled the collected blood on the clothes of the slavers. I managed to get out to the lake before the killing started. I’d never been so glad that Kwama can’t swim. Those things were completely out of control. Which leads me to where I am now.

,,You have caused the death of three Dunmer and would have escaped if my Legionaires weren’t performing a raid at the same time.” The Duke spoke directly to me. Remember the little detail that went wrong? Well two dozen heavily armed soldiers who found a whole angry bunch of Kwama in their face, that’s what went wrong.
,,I thought they would run when the Kwama went mad. I didn’t expect them to die.” Was the weak defense I managed to whisper.

My arm was brusquely grabbed by the guard. The slave bracers I’d been forced to wear clattered on the floor.
,,Ro-El Frost, you have closed down an illegal egg mine and punished those who were responsible. You have further freed their prisoners who are being returned to their families as we speak. All that without harming the Kwama themselves, my men are responsible for that. As such, it is my pleasure as a servant of the great Emperor, Uriel Septim, to grant you your freedom and to take you into my service as an agent in the order of Ebonheart. Serius will escort you to your room.” The Duke now said with a smile and pointed at the guard who had released me from the symbol of slavery.

In a flash of inspiration, I snatched the bracers from the floor before I was dragged out of the room by Serius. We ascended many stairs before he finally threw open a wooden door and pushed me inside. ,,Consider everything in this room to be yours. You’ll be summoned tomorrow at 6 am. Wait inside your room till we come for you.” Serius ordered me before slamming the door shut. Not the nicest guy in the world.

I sat down on the bed and looked around, still unable to believe what had just happened. Instead of being branded as the bad guy and possibly executed, I had been turned into some sort of hero. Not exactly something that happened to me every day.

After I finally admitted to myself that things had turned out alright, I took a look around the room they’d given me. Apart from the bed, there was a closet, a mirror, a desk with several books on it and a sturdy wooden chest. It wasn’t big, but not small either. I opened the closet with the intention of swapping my dirty old rags with something more comfortable. It was cold this time of the year. The closet did not disappoint me. It was filled with all kinds of clothes ranging from simple but sturdy to downright extravagant and fit for a noble. There were shirts, pants, robes, shoes and even a few skirts, though I did not know what I was supposed to do with those. Men don’t wear skirts where I come from. Finally there were a few gloves on a separate rack.

I choose for a simple blue shirt with matching pants and a pair of shoes fit for indoor use. As the last action of the day, I picked up the book lying on top of the pile. ‘History of the Empire, part 1’ it said on the cover. If my idea of an agent was somewhat correct, these books had been placed here for a reason. I had some reading to do.

[jack cloudy]

Update time!




The people in my vision were no strangers to me. I’d dreamed about them before, sporadically. Ever since I came to Vvardenfell though, those dreams had come more often. What was going on with me? I kept my questions in front of me as we went through more questionable tests. Finally, after my patience had worn as thin as a spider’s thread, the steward gave me the results.
,,There is plenty of Magicka hidden inside you. So theoretically, you should have all the means necessary to becoming a mage. With the proper training.” The steward left no doubt about what she considered proper training. Training that delivered shiny coins into her pockets.

,,But? There’s something here you’re not telling me.” I pressed her to voice the thoughts she’d kept silent. The steward shot me a sharp look, realizing that she’d underestimated me for yet another ‘dumbwitted Nord’.
,,You appear to be connected somehow to something, though I have no idea what. In essence, all of your Magicka is being drawn across this connection towards the other end.”

My eyebrows rose a notch. This was new. When Leroth conducted the test himself, all he knew was that I was totally unable to cast even the simpliest spell. He found nothing about some connection. I might not be dumbwitted, but this proved to be a mystery even for me. Did it have anything to do with my vision?

I excused myself and left the building with the intent of getting a bite to eat and perhaps a single flin to drink. The Plates looked like a decent place so I crossed the street. Inside, I found your usual drunkards, guards off duty and…….a Bosmer couple having a romantic diner. I turned around and left instantly. It was best not to interrupt them. Which lead me to the obvious conclusion of having to find somewhere else to drink. A short bit of walking led me to my new drinking spot. The Council club.

The door opened before me. I had just begun to appreciate the apparent friendliness when I found out that the door had not been opened for me. Instead, a Dunmer in rather cheap clothes was shoved out by a younger Dunmer sporting a ridiculous haircut. Once outside, the two began to yell at each other.
,,I know you did it! I was there, I saw you!” The woman shrieked and was promptly rewarded by a slap in the face that sent her to kiss the street.
,,Shut up, hag! No one would ever believe a simple maid such as you! Nine-Toes killed Ralen Hlaalo, not me! Now get out!”

The maid argued a bit more about Argonians not having Dwemer axes and that the murderer had exactly the same haircut as he had. In the end though, said axe forced her to swallow her words and storm off. I shook my head before going inside myself. My desire to drink had diminished greatly. My desire for justice though had only been stimulated. I’d rather believe a hysterical maid than a brute like him.

,,Hi.” I cheerfully greeted the bandit as I took my usual glance at the room. A smith, plenty of heavy tools and of course that big axe. The violent type. He looked at me in a manner eerily similar to the way my masters in the egg mine had looked at me. As if I was a tool.
,,What do you want, scum?” He hissed.
,,Now, now. No need to get so formal with me. I’ve just been looking for the best smith in town to fix a family heirloom which I, poor me, seem to have broken.” I replied with a perfect sense for drama. While the Dunmer rolled his eyes, I quickly emptied his pockets. He noticed something though and his hand was about to enter his now empty pocket.
,,So, could you be so kind and help me out?” I interrupted him before my situation could go bad. The movement of his hand stopped just hair’s width from the pocket.

,,And what is this family heirloom you speak of?” He asked me, making it perfectly clear that I was wasting my time.
,,Your reproductive organs.” I told him with a stupid grin before snatching a hammer from the anvil and slamming it into the mentioned area. He keeled over which gave me the chance to deliver a vicious kick to the face, breaking his nose and sending him rolling down the stairs. Now my chance for a drink had been ruined for the second time. I snatched an unopened bottle of Mazte from the floor and made a quick exit.

Outside, I had a chance to examine the items I’d found. My hands produced the usual kind of junk and…a note. What was it with bad people and forgetting to get rid of their notes?

Thanelen Velas, my brother in the Camonna Thong. It has come to my ears that Ralen Hlaalo opposes my ideals. Remove him in any manner you see fit, as long as he will never breathe again. Feel free to blame one of those scaled animals for the deed.

D

And it was a good note as well. At least on this island such things were considered sufficient evidence. I walked by a guard and slipped it into his pocket, making sure he noticed but without giving him a chance to recognize me.
,,Hey! Thie……..huh, what’s in my pocket?” I was gone before he had gotten over the surprise. Five minutes later, six heavily armed Hlaalu guards barged into the council club. Another five minutes later, they came out again, dragging a heavily beaten Velas with them. One more crook behind the bars.

I sat down at the edge of the bridge spanning the river at the center of the city and enjoyed my Mazte. The note had raised another question. This wasn’t simply a random act of violence. No, someone had made a decision to assassinate sir Hlaalo without using the official authorities on assassination, the Morag Tong. Apparently, the Camonna Tong had been seen as a better tool for this crime. Why, and who was this D? I sighed heavily as a dark thought clouded my mind. D, maybe it was Duke Dren. Was this why Leroth was thinking about betrayal? Or was I wrong altogether. Was something else going on here? If so, then what?