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]

A short installment this time- it is just that it has a natural stopping place. Enjoy.

With the titanic war machine out of the way, I could examine the door it had guarded. At first glance, it was no different than most of the other portals in the city, just a circle of metal decorated to look like a large gear. And then I saw the inscription: “Dome of Sotha Sil.” On the other side of this door, I would find the “god” of the Clockwork City, the architect of the horrible maze through which I had fought my way. I wondered what he would be like, this ancient wizard and inventor. Would he fly into a rage at my intrusion? Or would he instead be distant and absent-minded, lost in thoughts too deep and complex for mere mortals to grasp? The answers lay on the other side of that door, and I would have to pass through it to find them. But first I would prepare. I brought out those potions that would make me resistant to hostile magic and made sure that Trueflame would come free easily if I needed it. I still did not completely trust the ancient blade- I had not become comfortable with its odd shape. But I could not completely discount Almalexia’s statement that the sword was capable of killing even a god. With my preparations done, there could be no more delays. This was what I had come for- answers or combat, perhaps both. I opened the door and stepped into the Dome of Sotha Sil.

The inner sanctum of the most obscure member of the Tribunal was a huge dome, bare of any decoration, saving for the ubiquitous gears that appeared throughout his domain. They spun and clicked upon the curved roof, forever driving something beyond my comprehension. Perhaps they measured and regulated the very breathing of the universe; perhaps they kept time itself moving in an orderly fashion, one second following another into infinity. Or perhaps they did nothing at all, simply served as toys for the amusement of a god who had become obsessed with all things mechanical. As I scanned the dome, I noticed a massive tubular metal arch at the center of the room. Cables snaked downward from the arch and converged upon a slender figure who stood motionless on a raised platform. Apparently, this was by design- the cables were linked to attachment points on the armor that the figure wore. Despite the noise made by the cycling of the door, the person suspended from the cables did not move. I slowly edged closer, my heart pounding with anticipation and dread. I finally got close enough to see that I had found Sotha Sil and that he was quite dead.

Whoever or whatever had killed the master of the Clockwork City had been incredibly savage or frenzied- the corpse showed signs of violent magical attack, as well as gaping wounds from a blade. What was worse than the recent violence were the marks of what Sotha Sil had done to himself. His arms and legs were withered to the point of uselessness- if not for the cables attached to his metal vest and helm, he would have been unable to stand, let alone walk. It was clear that he had not left this spot for centuries, controlling everything in his realm with the power of his thoughts. He had turned himself into a creation of machinery and flesh, the obscene culmination of his work with the fabricants. I had wondered at the emptiness and neglect of the Clockwork City, had wondered if Sotha Sil had gone to a place where I could not follow. And now I knew that he had- despite his quest for immortality and perfection, he had passed through the gates of death. As I stood there, horrified by what Sotha Sil had become and what someone had done to him, two questions were foremost in my mind- who had murdered him- and where were they now? And then I heard the unmistakable sound of air displaced by teleportation magic behind me. I was no longer alone.

This post has been edited by treydog: Feb 3 2007, 09:20 PM