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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Whatever training I’d been doing yestere seemed to have paid dividends: when I awoke this morning, I felt fitter and stronger than I had. I’d experienced this odd sensation before, a feeling that there was suddenly more to you than there had been ~ almost as though you’d clambered to another level of skill. Previously I’d written it off to potions I’d taken, or things I’d been exposed to. However, yestere I hadn’t taken any potions and, unless the former home of Dura gra-Bol had some mystic property I was unaware of, I hadn’t been exposed to anything unusual. Whatever the cause, I decided I rather liked the feeling. So it was with a smile on my face that I translocated to Tel Vos and made my way up to Master Aryon’s chambers. Where he soon managed to wipe it off.

“I have no tasks for you to undertake Muthsera Vahl,” he said. “I can make a suggestion, however. It depends on how ambitious you are. You see if you wish to advance in the House, you need to make the other Councillors aware of you. Their favour can make or break you, as many an ambitious young Telvanni has discovered to their cost.

“I can’t compel you, of course,” he continued. “However, performing a few small tasks here and there for the other Councillors would stand you in good stead. The only other piece of advice I’d give you would be to avoid Arch-Magister Gothren.”

“And why would that be, Serjo Aryon?” I quizzed.

“Let us just say that he tends to take a dim view of ambitious young Telvanni,” Aryon said wryly. “The tasks he gives them tend to be a little fatal. Master Baladas you know, and should take as much advantage of any friendship that there is there. You should be safe enough with Mistress Dratha; be wary of old Neloth, he’s a skinflint and deep in Gothren’s pocket. Visiting Fyr would be pointless, as you know; he takes no interest in the workings of the House at all.

“Finally,” he said, having marked the Tels of the councillors on my map, “we come to Mistress Therana. The years have not been kind to her, and it is feared that she may have fallen back on less savoury methods of extending her life. Back to the very old ways, you might say.”

“I have some… experience with Therana,” I said carefully, aware of what he was hinting at.

He nodded, “Then you are aware that asking her for anything is fraught with danger. Still, she was always generous and enough of her mind may remain…”

I thanked Master Aryon for his advice and made my way out of his chambers. There was a tuneless humming coming from downstairs and I grinned as I went to meet Turedus.

“I’ve spoken to the Zainab,” I said, by way of an introduction. “And I know what they’ll accept in trade.”

“Well, don’t keep me in suspense,” the massive armoured Man said.

“Potions,” I revealed. “Their hunters are often too far from camp to make it back in time to be cured.”

“Well I’ll be a Khajiit’s uncle,” Turedus said with a wide grin. “I’d never have thought of that. His Nibs, erm, Master Aryon will be extremely pleased with that news. Here, have these small tokens of my gratitude.” The ‘small tokens’ turned out to be a purse containing a hundred Septims and an amulet ensorcelled with a cantrip of levitation. While the former was welcome, the latter was of inestimable value to me ~ now I wouldn’t have to keep buying those foul tasting potions or expending magicka to reach the top of Telvanni towers.

I should point out that, if you haven’t already guessed, curiosity is a major failing of mine. It was curiosity that led me to Great House Telvanni in the first place, and it was that same curiosity that prompted me to explore Tel Vos. And what profitable exploration it was too.

Inside the well-guarded tower that seemed to serve as a jail, at least if the barred heavy doors were any indication, I found a hidden doorway. I was really just on my way down from the top of the tower to the level where a walkway led to another part of the fort. As I went around a corner, I felt a slight puff of wind on my face. I backtracked immediately and examined the wall carefully ~ by passing my hand back and forth across the stones I found that what appeared to be just another piece of wall was a hidden doorway. Making sure I was unobserved ~ I was a welcome guest at Tel Vos and I didn’t wish to jeopardise that by being seen poking into places I shouldn’t ~ I gently pushed the wall. I was surprised, to say the least when a section of the wall swung back soundlessly to reveal a hidden void.

Quickly, I batted aside the cobwebs that hung from the ceiling and examined the small space. It had obviously been here since the Empire had built the fort. The branch that had torn aside a chunk of masonry explained the breeze. Apart from a couple of quite high quality potions, there was nothing of interest, but it did get me thinking.

I don’t know what Master Aryon’s guards thought of my behaviour over the next few hours. I poked my nose into every nook and cranny of the Tel in my search for any other hidden areas. Oftimes I’d be discovered by a guard, tapping a blank section of wall. With a bright smile, I blandly assured them that Master Aryon had assigned me the task of checking for structural weaknesses. I assume that they accepted this explanation ~ either they didn’t report my strange behaviour to Master Aryon or, if they did, he never saw fit to mention it.

I picked up a well made but rusty bow and a couple of dozen steel arrows in one part of the stronghold, and a fortune in gemstones in another. I felt sure that Aryon wouldn’t mind me taking the things I found. After all, if he was foolish enough to leave them unremarked and unguarded, I deserved them more than he did. My greatest find, however, came with the discovery of a second concealed portal in the north-eastern tower.

Inside the hidden chamber was a small trapdoor that led down to another, larger concealed chamber. Here prowled another of those oddly deformed creatures ~ one that I later discovered was called a Dremora Lord. The instant it spotted me it summoned its preferred weapon and had at me. I must admit that I nearly lost the fight since I was working very hard to stifle a bad attack of the giggles.

I see you smile, imagining the fell-handed Sudhendra Vahl giggling whilst in battle. Warriors are not born, but are tempered through experience ~ should they survive long enough. As to the reason for my inappropriate display of mirth, that’s told simply enough. Imagine if you will, a chamber barely wide enough for me to lay down in. Now imagine a Dremora Lord wielding a staff taller than either of us.

When the essence of my foe had been sent wailing back to whichever corner of Oblivion he’d come from, I examined the remainder of the room. The first item I discovered was a shield, heavy as sin and made from the same dark material as my erstwhile foe’s armour. It was made to resemble a leering face and, despite the great bulk of it, I claimed it as my own. The other item I found was a crescent-shaped axe of Dwemeri design. I held the grip and listened to its song as I slashed it experimentally through the air. Despite the antiquity of the weapon, it still held a wickedly sharp edge. Smaller, but heavier, than the axe I habitually carried, it would make a fair replacement as it could be wielded in tighter confines.

I was surprised at how much time had passed when I stepped from the tower. Night’s purple shadows were already gathering in the corners as the sun sank low in the west. With a shrug, I translocated to Balmora for some, in my opinion, well-deserved rest.