Trey in Mournhold, Chapter 9 Options

[treydog]

Chapter 9

The makeshift carrier I had built for the sword seemed light as a feather compared to my footsteps as I made my way to the Temple and the High Chapel where Almalexia waited. She cast her other-worldly gaze upon me and asked in that cool voice,

“Have you forged the blade of Nerevar? Does it burn with the flame of righteousness?”

It was in my mind that what it burned with was the essence of Dwemer alchemy, but I decided not to say so as I uncased the blade and showed it to the goddess. She levitated upward and spun about in her delight as she proclaimed,

“The blade is reforged! Our time has almost arrived. There is but one obstacle that stands in our way, though it pains me to believe it is so. Sotha Sil. I cannot count the times I have fought by the Magician's side. It was he who stood with me the day I fought in Mournhold and banished Mehrunes Dagon to the depths of Oblivion. It was Sotha Sil who was able to delve the mysteries of Kagrenac's tools, and raise me to my rightful station. Now, though, the Tinkerer has become unstable.”

I found it interesting that she admitted that her “divinity” was actually the result of Sotha Sil’s meddling with these “Tools”- whatever they were. And if the source of his power was the same as Almalexia’s, I was willing to believe that he had become unstable. Of even more significance for my immediate purposes was the fact that this was just the sort of information Helseth had asked me to uncover. Therefore, I pursued the issue, inquiring as to the goddess’ reasons for being concerned about Sotha Sil. Her voice became distant, as if she contemplated things only she could see or recall.

“Once, Sotha Sil was like we are, the Lord Vivec and I. He spent time among these mortals, instructing them, counseling them, protecting them from harm. He may have loved them more than any of us, though I know not why. It has been many years since any have seen the Sorcerer, though. Many more since he took initiates into his service. I believe he grew weary of mortal imperfections, and retired to his Clockwork City, where he reshapes life, and some say the very world, into an image he finds pleasing.”

After a pause, she continued,

“His lair is as puzzling as the mind of the Sorcerer himself. Ever-moving, ever-changing, its levers and gears responding to its master's will alone. It is here he performs his profane experiments, aided by his magic and tainted by his madness. I have suspected for some time that the Lord Sotha Sil had entered Sheogorath's realm. His visits have been more and more infrequent, and punctuated by violent fits of anger. He began to speak of the fall of the Tribunal and the return of the Old Gods. But Sotha Sil is not a Seer; he is a Maker. He shapes the Here and the Now, while only I have been privy to what is to come. I know this...he is no longer the man he once was.”

It was disconcerting to hear Almalexia speak at such length and so frankly, when her pronouncements were normally cryptic. In one way, it was as if I was hearing one side of an argument that had raged for many years; in another way, it was as if she felt compelled to unburden herself of all her fears and suspicions, but had found no one in whom to confide. And yet, even if her words were true, they still seemed carefully crafted to show her in the best light. For example, the phrasing about “violent fits of anger” was such that it could apply to either Sotha Sil or the goddess herself. And Galsa Andrano had told me that Almalexia had changed, had become angry and vengeful. Even as I contemplated the implications and undercurrents, Almalexia seemed to reach a decision. She straightened herself and brought her gaze back from whatever distant sights she had considered. Her voice harsh with emotion, she said,

“He is completely mad. It was his creations, these Fabricants, that attacked my city. This once great man is now a danger to Mournhold and to all of Morrowind. He must be stopped, Trey.”

She looked at me steadily and continued,

“I believe it is your calling to stop Sotha Sil's mad schemings. I do not know that he can be reasoned with, Trey, but it is possible. If he cannot be, you must end his life. Though the idea saddens me, it is best for Morrowind...and it is best for him, as well. You have the power to do this. The Trueflame can kill a god, if wielded by one of noble intent. Steel yourself, Trey, and do what must be done. I will send you to his Clockwork City now, if you are prepared. Good luck, Nerevarine.”

[treydog]

I was most assuredly not prepared to go to the Clockwork City or anywhere else- other than far away from Almalexia and Helseth, but that was not an option. I could, however, buy a little desperately-needed time. Therefore, I said,

“I will need to make some preparations.”

The goddess was clearly not used to someone who contradicted her wishes. Her annoyance was evident as she frowned at me and said,

“There is little time to waste. Make your preparations quickly.”

Not wishing to give her a chance to change her mind, I scuttled out of the High Chapel and back to the Palace basement. Once I reached my safe haven, I took several deep breaths in an attempt to calm my racing heart. Deep inside, I knew that I was close to the conclusion of the adventure that had begun when the first Dark Brotherhood assassin attacked me. It had seemed so simple- find the assassins, find the source of the attacks, and deal with it. Instead, every step I had taken had drawn me deeper into the mire. My search for personal revenge had been overwhelmed by the forces in control of Mournhold. I could have, perhaps, lived with the knowledge that Almalexia was dangerously unstable, but I could not ignore my part in feeding her power. Because of me, she had Barilzar’s ring; because of me, ash storms darkened the skies of the city. Ruefully, I wondered if I might not have been better served to simply deal with the assassination attempts piecemeal, for the rest of my life if necessary, instead of throwing myself into the mad maelstrom that was Mournhold. Unfortunately, regrets are only for those who can afford them- I had made my choices and I must live with them. The question that confronted me was what preparations to make before I faced Sotha Sil, ancient magician, mechanical genius, and deity. Almalexia claimed that Trueflame had the power to kill even a god, but I had to wonder. How likely was it that the goddess would so freely tell a mortal that he possessed the means to destroy her? In any event, the preparations I needed to make were more mental than physical. My armor and weapons were in good repair; I had what restorative potions I had been able to brew; and I quickly decided which of my few magic items would be of any use. Unfortunately, I had no reports of what might reside in the Clockwork City; therefore, it would be difficult to plan. The one thing I did know was that Sotha Sil was a great wizard- and I would have to depend mostly upon my innate resistance to magic as a defense against that. Still, it would be wise to create or obtain potions that reflected, absorbed, or protected against harmful magicka. That task was accomplished easily enough and then I waited a few hours- more for the sake of demonstrating my independence than because I needed the time, before returning to the Temple.

When I entered the High Chapel, Almalexia greeted me with a look in her eyes that was even stranger than usual and asked,

“Are you prepared now to stop Sotha Sil and take your place amongst the gods?”

I desperately wanted to respond that that would be “’Yes’ to the first and ‘No’ to the second,” but I had a feeling that the goddess had lost her sense of humor along with her humanity. And I was again struck by the ambiguity of her words- she had not asked if I wanted to “become” a god, but if I wanted to “take my place amongst” them. That struck me as being uncomfortably close to asking if I wanted to “meet my ancestors.” Of course, even if she did mean to imply that I could become a deity, my answer would have been negative- I had seen too clearly what power and immortality had done to one member of the Tribunal and I wanted no part of her madness. However she had achieved godhood, she had lost her soul. What I wanted was to be left alone, to be myself, to have a life untroubled by gods or monarchs. Of course, she could not grant me those wishes, even if she would, so I simply nodded to indicate my readiness to go to the Clockwork City. Almalexia touched something on her left hand with the fingers of her right and spoke words in a language I did not know. Then came the stomach-wrenching, twisting sensation of teleportation magic and I was…elsewhere.

The corridor to which the goddess had sent me was familiar and yet alien- patterned after the Dwemer works I had previously entered, but taken further. Like the Dwemer ruins, it was also in a state of disrepair, with tumbled stones and several inches of water covering the floor. Further along, roots had broken through the ceiling and hung down, questing for the floodwaters below. I was less than impressed. If Sotha Sil was such a genius at all things mechanical, it seemed that he could at least have kept the place from flooding. That first passage ended at a round metal door with a mechanical arm that reached to the roof. A few minutes’ searching revealed a lever, which I twisted and pushed inward. With a tortured groan, the door was pulled upward and latched to the roof with a loud clank. I muttered, “So much for a stealthy entrance,” and moved forward. However, I need not have worried about guards- or anyone else- hearing the noise. All that greeted me was the whir and click of gears and the swishing sound of two great pendulums that flashed back and forth across the corridor, barring easy progress. The pendulums were in the form of crescent-shaped blades, and they operated in such a way that avoiding one would almost certainly cause an intruder to be cut in half by the other. Impatience has killed many a thief, and I recognized the inherent danger of my own desire to be done with Mournhold and its gods. Therefore, I drew several calming breaths and relaxed as I considered the timing of the pendulums. Only when I was certain that the swings were regular did I make my move. After ensuring that my footing was solid, I dove past the blades and rolled to my feet on the other side of the trap. Safely past that first check, I took time to consider this peculiar place.

The feeling that struck me then and that stays with me still was one of overwhelming loneliness. Here was the culmination of the efforts of someone who wished to separate himself from humanity and who had the power to do so. In the Dwemer ruin of Bamz-Amschend, I had noted the lack of life or any interest in the living world. But the Clockwork City was worse. It did not feel like a place where anyone was intended to live or even work. It was a great machine, set in motion and then abandoned. If it was true that Sotha Sil was working on creating new worlds or new realities, perhaps he had succeeded and gone somewhere that I could not follow. Still, I had no choice but to try. Beyond the fact that I had given my word to Almalexia and Helseth, the mystery of this place troubled me. Some might argue that a promise given to an oath-breaker was not binding, but I felt differently. It was my promise that mattered, my word that was sacred. I would do what I had promised- and I would exact a price for my suffering when I could. I could only allow myself a few moments of contemplation- just because the place seemed empty did not mean it was free of dangers.

Having negotiated the first barrier, I did not relax my vigilance, even though most of what I saw was further ruin and neglect. A sudden movement ahead of me rewarded my caution, and I observed three of the fabricant creatures that had attacked the Plaza. These particular examples were the more agile type, the bipedal sort with a large spike or horn protruding from the “snout.” Their presence seemed to confirm the idea that Sotha Sil had been behind the invasion of the Plaza. Hiding as best I could in the brightly-lit hall, I conjured a magical bow and finished the creatures without taking any wounds. I knew that simply returning with word that I had found more fabricants would not be sufficient- I needed to confront Sotha Sil himself. And, if he proved to be sane and reasonable, I might discover more about Almalexia. I therefore continued my search, finding more fabricants and more pendulum traps. In one instance, the traps worked to my benefit- a couple of the mindless fabricants killed themselves trying to get to me. After much fruitless searching, I came to a different sort of door, one that seemed to delineate a different area of this peculiar maze. Although the architecture was different, the danger was not.