Rashelle And The Mad God, Tribunal fanfic Options

[blockhead]

This contains spoilers for the Tribunal expansion. I imagine this is no longer a concern since the expansion has been out for so long but I thought it would be prudent to mention it here anyway.

Unlike "Rashelle At Lokken", this one is an in-progress work, actually being written now. As a consequence the updates won't be nearly so often.

This story occurs before the events in "Rashelle At Lokken".

--
Rashelle And The Mad God
by blockhead aka pcc

Chapter 1. Dark Brotherhood


I knew it was not going to be a good day. Firstly, it was that time of the month for me and that is never a good time. Secondly, I was rudely awakened by someone who was trying to murder me in my bed.

His glass dagger had just rebounded off of my ebony cuirass. People think I'm nuts when I tell them I sleep in my armor. Situations like this are why I do.

An elbow in his face backed him off a foot or so and gave me time to give him a stiff kick in the usual place. It sent him flying away from the bed but apparently that strange black armor that he wore protected him there because he came right back at me.

I ran him through with Chrysamere. People think I'm nuts because I sleep with a naked claymore. Situations like this are why I do.

I got out of bed and searched the body. No keys. Some gold. No letters or other information. I examined the strange black armor. It was rather nice. I had never seen its like before, very light and flexible, yet tough. The deep blackness of it would certainly help any night-time stealthy activities. It was probably expensive as well.

If it were not for the fact that I don't like my sleep to be interrupted, I would welcome more attacks just for more of this armor.

I removed my boots and I tried the greaves on. They were especially nice. They went well with my Ebony cuirass yet were not hot like most armor is. Of late I had not been wearing any armor save for a cuirass and boots: Vvardenfell was just too hot to wear full armor. I was never cold; only warm or hot. I'm a Breton but there must have been Nord in my ancestry somehow.

I left the greaves on. I put my ebony boots back on. I went to the trap door and poked my head out. It was still dark out but I was too keyed up to go back to sleep.

I closed trap door and got myself ready to go.

Taking the helm and the body, I left my house.

A Hlallu guard approached me immediately. After playing 20 questions he eventually realized that I had been attacked, had lawfully defended myself and was only trying to dispose of the body.

"Couldn't you have waited until you left town before stripping it?"

"It's not every day I get attacked in my own bed. I was not aware there was a protocol involved."

Showing him the helm, I said; "By the way, you wouldn't happen to know who wears armor like this and likes to murder Bretons in their bed, would you?"

He informed me that the helm was that of the Dark Brotherhood. They were assassins. Apparently someone had put a contract out on me. Unlike the Morag Tong, the dark brotherhood would take any contract. They will kill anyone if the drakes were good: legality was not a concern.

He told me that Apelles Matius over in Ebonheart might know more about them. I thanked him and he retreated at speed: as if the dark brotherhood would slay him just for talking to me.

Not a great start to my day. I dumped the body just south of town and then went to the Mages Guild.

"Greetings, Rashelle, what brings you here at this odd hour?", said the Sharn Gra-Muzgob, who was manning the entrance as Greeter this shift.

"Hey Sharn. Nothing much: just a Dark Brotherhood assassin trying to murder me in my sleep."

"That's terrible - you killed him I trust?"

"Yes indeed."

"I trust you disposed of the body?"

"Yes; just now I dragged it south of town."

"Just now you did?"

"Yep."

She turned from me and summoned Galbedir, asking her to cover for her for "a few minutes". Then she scurried outside as fast she could.

Galbedir and I laughed: we both knew she was a necromancer.

I went downstairs and had them teleport me to Vivec. Once there, a cast of Divine intervention teleported me to the Imperial Cult chapel in Ebonheart. From there, it was a short walk to find Apelles Matius.

He initially seemed to doubt me but I showed him the helm and then he remembered that I was the Nerevarine and had some skill in matters pertaining to combat.

He revealed two interesting bits if information. First; the Dark Brotherhood headquarters was somewhere on the mainland, in the city of Mournhold. Secondly, despite the quarantine still in place around Vvardenfell from the Blight, a recently arrived Imperial Mage named Asciene Rane could teleport me there.

He led me to her and, after introductions, explained the situation to her. I thanked him and he left. She then teleported me to Mournhold.

I appeared in a blue room. There were flowers in the room; how did they grow indoors without sunlight? I turned and found myself face to face with an Argonian in expensive robes.

He sniffed and said "fresh game."

he continued. "Greetings, I am Effe Tei. I can teleport you to Ebonheart. You are in the Palace now, in the reception area."

"Thank you, I am Rashelle."

Effe Tei briefly explained the layout of Mournhold. The city was a circle, with the Palace in the center. The remainder of the circle was divided into four sections. The temple was to the south, the plaza Brindisi Dorom to the north. West and East were the Great Bazaar and the Godsreach areas.

Effe informed me that the city was actually built on top of the ruins of the the older city, some of which were accessible underground.

The goddess Amalexia resided in this city, as did the dunmer King Helseth.

In an alarmed tone he asked me; "Are you wearing greaves of the Dark Brotherhood?"

Perhaps wearing the armor of the Dark Brotherhood had been a bad idea.

"These? Oh no; don't be silly! These are padded Capri pants. They are all the rage over on Tel Aruhn. When I wear boots they are more comfortable. When I don't wear boots they let a lot of calf show."

I chatted briefly with a royal guard. His closed helm and closed mannerisms made conversation difficult and brief.

I decided to wander around the castle before going outside. I took the open doorway out of the room and soon found myself with a choice, stairs down or up. Thinking of dungeons, my natural instinct was to choose the down stairwell.

This resulted in my arrival at the Royal Palace basement.

Oddly enough, there were no guards here. I poked through some of the crates and other containers. I was tempted to pinch some salt rice but I refrained.

I found a trap door in the floor. Effe had said something about the Dark Brotherhood in the sewers below the Great Bazaar, not the palace, but I opened the door anyway.

I started to descend the cold slimy rungs of a ladder. I was in a large high hall. Along the center of the hall ran a channel with water in it. The air was moist and the scent wafting along it let me know that these were the sewers.

I paused, gripping the ladder, while my eyes adjusted to the darkness. There were torches here and there and some sort of undefined dim illumination. This area was as large as the Vivec canton sewers but, like everything else in Mournhold, was more ornate than its Vvardenfell counterpart.

A skeleton was running towards the ladder. With one hand I cast a fireball. Most undead are susceptible to fire so that was enough to take care of it.

I descended the rest of the way and stepped away from the latter.

To my right was a dead end. I turned left. The floor was tiled with maroon tiles that formed pretty patterns. Why waste time decorating a sewer?

A rat attacked me. I believe he hurt his teeth on my ebony boots. I simply stared down at him as if to say "who are you kidding?". He sheepishly squeaked and ran away.

Then I saw a skeleton in a hooded robe. That was new. It cast a lightning spell. My birth sign didn't handle it this time. It hurt but I was not in immediate danger so I waited. I wanted to assess the capabilities of this new creature.

The robed skeleton cast another one. And another. How much magicka did this thing have?

I was hurting now. Enough is enough. I quaffed a potion and cast a fireball. The robed skeleton hit me with a health damage spell but this time my birth sign diffused the spell and absorbed the magicka. I promptly used this to cast a larger fireball.

Robes burning, the skeleton collapsed to the ground. Pieces of bone fell into the water.

A memory from my magical studies came to me: I had just fought a lich.

I walked over and examined the lich. It was simply an animated skeleton with a robe, an iron longsword, and an iron shield. The most formidable thing about it had been the large reservoir of magicka.

I resumed walking. The sewer corridor turned to the left and entered a very large room. It was easily larger than a plaza in a Vivec canton, larger than a small village. In the center was a circle of pillars that reached all the way to the ceiling. Inside this was a deeper pool of water. Perhaps this drained into a lower level of sewers.

A goblin ran towards me. I had never encountered a goblin before but I had seen pictures of them in books.

He was a tough critter and he wielded a club that was sturdier than it looked.

As I was finishing him, a durzog attacked me. Again, I had not seen a durzog in Vvardenfell but I knew of them. Goblins often used durzogs as mounts and war beasts. Wherever you encountered one, you tended to also run into the other.

Getting tired of the water, I took an upward ramp out of that large room. This soon led me to a door labeled "Bazaar sewers". How convenient: this is where Effe said the Dark Brotherhood were located.

So I was now in the Bazaar Sewers of Old Mournhold. Ahead of me, the wide and tall passage continued and then curved left. From this came a bonewalker, already hurling Grave Curse spells at me. Another fireball finished him.

To my right was a second passage. I went right.

This passage turned left and down. At the turning was a Khajiit woman. An attempt at conversation yielded only "Ahnia does not know you, so Ahnia has nothing to say to you."

Perhaps the sewers were filled with madmen? I continued on down the passage. The ramp took me back down to the water level. Have I mentioned yet how much I hate water?

There was a ladder going up but I passed it for now. The next section of the passage was smaller and hewn from rock: no pretty tiles here.

I swam, following the passage as it turned left and down. I dove because I thought I saw something there on the bottom. I did: a skeleton who had apparently been slain by an arrow. There was a water breathing potion by the skeleton. The passage was a dead end so, swimming as rapidly as I could as I was running out of breath, I retraced my route.

I returned to the ladder, this time I ascended it.

I found myself on the surface, outdoors, somewhere in Mournhold. The morning sunlight shown on a rich array of blue architecture. Another reminder that I wasn't in Vvardenfell anymore.

While I had urgent business to attend to, regarding the Black brotherhood's misguided attempts to adjust my lifespan, I just could not resist the temptation to wander around here for a bit before returning to the depths.

Vvardenfell is a frontier. This was a city, a major center of government and commerce, and it showed. Everything had a polished and expensive look to it.

I walked around, chatting with people, even the ordinators. Ordinators are never chatty but I try to talk to them anyway. These Ordinators wore a different style of armor from the ones back in Vivec. The helm was the same but not yellow. The color was pastel violet instead. As with everything else in Mournhold, their armor was classier and snazzier than the Vvardenfell version. I was informed that I was in the Great Bazaar.

At some point I found a book store. It was with difficultly that I pulled myself out of there, a few hundred gold poorer.

I heard what sounded like a summoning spell. When one summons an atronach or other daedra, there is a certain characteristic sound. I turned towards the sound and saw two bursts of fog or smoke. The smoke fade away to be replaced by a Dunmer in a robe.

"Greetings, fair citizens of Mournhold. I am the great, renowned, respected, and feared wizard, Ovis Velas! In the coming weeks you shall see more and more of me, as I bring this city to its knees."

This didn't sound very promising. He had the attention of the people around me. I hoped this was some sort of advertisement for a sporting event but I didn't think so. I had a fireball ready and I placed a hand on my head, casually, as if patting my hair into place ... near the hilt of the sheathed sword at my back.

"But for the moment, " he continued, "allow me to demonstrate my power on one of your hapless countrymen."

He looked right at me. Figures. Always pick on the Breton with the black hair and the armor.

"You there! Yes, you, you ugly Breton, Prepare yourself to feel my wrath!"

He hit me with a fireball. I could have dodged it but I didn't want it to hurt anyone in the crowd so I just took it. My birth-sign didn't absorb the spell this time.

Already running towards him, I let fly my own fireball and drew my sword.

He hit me with a cold spell: standard technique: fatigue the target by alternating fire and frost. My birth-sign didn't absorb this spell either but I have always had this unusual Nord-like affinity to cold: the spell was a refreshing cool breeze.

I reached him and swung. He moved partially out of the way but he was not moving very fast so Chrysamere still bit.

He stumbled but still hit me with a nasty shock-bolt. This time my birth-sign absorbed and diffused the spell.

Enough: I stabbed him right through the heart. He had no armor under the robe.

As I kicked the corpse from my sword I mused that any chance of the Dark Brotherhood not being aware of me here on their home turf had just gone to zero.

I cast a healing spell on myself.

The hubbub of the crowd that had formed was cut through by an Ordinator rasping, "Nothing to see here, move along."

I walked away. I had lawfully defended myself so the Ordinators gave me no trouble.

A dunmer who introduced himself as Drathhas Reyes said to me "For all of his talk, you didn't seem to have much trouble dealing with him. Seems strange he was so weak."

He had a point there.

"You know, there is a Velas manor in Godsreach. Perhaps checking it out would shed some needed light on this mystery."

Yeah whatever, but I didn't say that. I nodded and walked on.

Back to the sewers: I now had to find the Dark Brotherhood before they found me. I descended, stepped off the ladder. I killed a rat and passed by the unfriendly Khajiit woman again.




EDIT: went a little too Conan (and not even good original Howard Conan, but Marvel-style Conan) for the next bit so I've taken it out for more editing. Also minor word usage & "flow" edits


This post has been edited by blockhead: Apr 11 2007, 02:17 AM

[blockhead]

Shorter chapter today (Hey zelda_zealot )

--
Chapter 4. Mazed Band


Once again through the temple basement, once again in the temple sewers. I almost knew the rats by name now. I mused that maybe I should just live down here to shorten the trip times.

Wandering along the sewers and through the caves that used to be the surface, fighting liches and skeletons and the odd goblin or three, I eventually found an area new to me. It was a pile of rubble next to a narrow cave. I saw a broken miner's pick. This had to be the recently cleared tunnel that Hler had mentioned.

Although the tunnel was cleared, the crypts beyond it were not. There was nothing unusual at first, merely more of the usual undead and some rats. I suppose one should not say "merely" when referring to liches. Those things are rather annoying for their ability to just hammer one with spell after spell.

One stretch of cave turned and entered into a section of what looked like sewer, with its maroon floor tiles. This was a dead end so that it formed a room. In this room stood something new to me. It was a skeleton, yet it wore more and different clothes than skeletons normally wear. It seemed to be wearing ... a crown? There were thin strands of grey hair somehow attached to its skull. It was also a bit shorter than me. Had this been a Bosmer when it was alive?

"What are you doing here?" it asked in a sepulchral voice.

"I'm here to recover the Mazed Band for Almalexia."

It ... he ... laughed dryly and said "Do you know who I am?"

"Fargoth's aunt, Clargoth?" Oh Rashelle, you must stop this habit of talking without thinking first!

"No. I am Barilzar, the one who made the Mazed band untold centuries ago. I cannot let its power slip into the wrong hands. I turned myself into a lich so that I could protect it. Leave now, mortal, while you still can."

I waited.

"Well, go on then, lest you feel my wrath."

I waited.

"I really don't want to kill you."

"Must you?"

"Well, not if you leave. I'm serious now. I have to protect this ring so that no one can misuse it. It's important, you know."

"I see. Well, could I borrow it?"

"Hmm, well you look the trustworthy type ... but you serve this Almy, Alley ... Almee ..."

"Almalexia. She is one of the Tribunal."

"Hmm, not sure I know them; new I guess. Then again, down here with only other undead for company, one doesn't get that much news."

"Doesn't it get boring, you know, sitting here in this cave for centuries with no one to talk to?"

"Well, as a matter of fact, it does ... but it is necessary. I have to protect this ring."

"So you keep saying."

Was this thing was going to talk me to death?

"Say," I remarked, "How do I know that you are really Barilzar?"

"But I am!"

"Riddle me this, sera: if you are really him, you would know about the disappearance of the Dwemer, wouldn't you?"

"Errr, since when did they disappear?"

"About a thousand years ago."

"Oh, then that was after I became a lich. Too recent; sorry."

I had been an adventurer for some time. I had managed to handle that pesky matter of Dagoth Ur and come out alive and ahead. Over time I had built up instincts ... senses. Sometimes I would just have a feeling and without hesitation I would act on it. Every time it happened it saved my life.

This time was no exception. The thought was the deed and I half fell, half dove, to the right.

I heard a crackling sound and a ball of electrical damage magic swirled by me and splashed into the wall behind Barilzar.

I sprang to my feet, to see a second Barilzar. This one was larger, the height of an Altmer. The little one had been a distraction to set me up for the real one.

I cast a large fireball. It reflected. Through a red haze of pain I quaffed a restore health potion.

As I dodged another spell I ran for the little guy and clove him in two. Now I would be able to focus on the big guy without distractions. Too bad about the Dwemer, though: I would still like to know what happened to them.

I cast a Reflect spell, took a second potion, and charged the real Barilzar. The restore health potions that I make last around half a minute. Therefore it is sometimes a good idea to take one ahead of time, then one can just take the damage for the next half minute and know that it will be healed.

I waded through two fireballs before I reached him. He backed away but he was much slower than I was. Chrysamere slashed into him.

He actually turned and ran: undead usually never have the initiative to do that. This made it easy for me: a fireball and then a second fireball and he became a small pile of pieces of scorched bone.

I searched though this pile and found only the blackened clothing, the crown, an iron dagger and a ring. The ring was unadorned: it was simply a band of tarnished metal. I could feel no enchantments on it at all. That didn't seem right, but I took the ring anyway. I also took the crown and the dagger.

I then searched little Barilzar. There was no ring there, no weapon, nor anything but the clothing & crown. I took this crown as well, just in case. I would hate to have to make a second trip because I had overlooked something.

I searched the room but found no other items.

I shrugged, cast Almsivi Intervention, and was back on the surface. I entered the Temple and found Fedris.

I showed him the ring and the two crowns.

He raised an eyebrow.

I shrugged.

He looked towards the door in the back of the reception area. It was the large one that wouldn't open when I had surreptitiously tried it the other day.

I looked questioningly at him.

He nodded.

I raised an eyebrow.

He nodded again.

I walked over to the door. I gave it a tug. This time it opened, smoothly and silently. I entered and found myself in a large round chamber. It was dimly lit but I could see that it was also blue. There were four doors in the walls, including the one I had entered. Most of the floor was covered by a raised dais.

And there she was.

She hovered in the center of the room. She was suffused with a golden glow. This radiated out and lit the five figures who stood around her. They had to be the Hands I had heard about: like ordinators but with powers bestowed on them directly by Almalexia. It was said that they were the most powerful mortal warriors in Tamriel.

She wore a long loincloth which went down past her knees, a metal bra and a pair of unusual asymmetrical pauldrons. Her skin was the golden hue of the Altmer and was covered with ... tattoos? In her bright flaming red hair was a tiara. Her eyes were golden and she was barefoot.

"Come and bath in the light of my glory," she said in the smooth low voice of a Dunmer woman.

I approached. Without thought I sank to my knees.

"I believe you have something for me?" she said.

Mutely I held out the dull ring. She plucked it from my hands: I felt a little shock when her fingers brushed my palm.

"Yes, this is it. It appears to be a simple ring with no enchantments on it, yet rest assured that I can restore its hidden power."

My voice returned to me.

"What are you going to do with it?"

"I don't think you really need to be concerned with that. I will use it for the benefit of my people; that is all you need to know."

I nodded. that was enough for me. In the events that resulted in my becoming the Nerevarine I had come to appreciate Vivec's motivations. I would never know what had actually happened to Nerevar for sure but I did not think that Vivec had murdered him. Vivec's earnest sincerity had made an impression on me. He had made mistakes but he had really wanted to help his people. He wanted to protect and save Morrowind. He had tried his best; he had good intentions.

I had done well by Vivec, therefore ... how could I not trust Almalexia? Though they had been false gods, and were now mortal, I trusted the Tribunal.

"You have served me well. I may have other tasks for you at later time."

It was a dismissal. I nodded and left.

As I exited the temple, I mulled upon the original reason that I had come to Mournhold: the attempt on my life. While evidence pointed to Helseth, it was not solid evidence. I had been thinking of killing Helseth ... but to kill him if he were not the culprit would be wrong. I would have to find out more.

I had no good idea on how to do this but I did know that I would have to start at the palace.





This post has been edited by blockhead: Apr 28 2007, 07:05 PM