The Ordinator, The time of change is approaching... Options

[Gaius Maximus]

Bravely done! No autobiography this. It may be about the Nerevarine, but this is a story/history' as it might have been if 'Morrowind' had not happened.

And I remember that there was a prediction that if the Nerevarine failed then Dagoth Ur might conquer all of Tamriel

I thank you for your comment on the story; the idea came to me rather unexpectedly, and not quite as what it has become now. I'm quite glad that it has turned into what it has now, as it allows me to experiment loads. BESIDES being hugely fun to write.

Now, after along delay (i'm suspecting that for me, gaming and writing do not go hand-to-hand; whenever I start liking one game, I cannot think of anything to write ) I bring you, the first part of chapter XI.

Chapter XI

The winds howled loudly, tossing whole heaps of ash up from the ground, buffeting the vomit of the Red Mountain about in a playful manner. Somewhere in the distance, a cliffracer shrieked. The desperate cry of the creature rippled through the Ashlands and finally dissipated in the angry roars of nature.

However, problems of a creature so hated by the travelers of Vvardenfell was of no matter to Raynari; he had problems on his own, and the Ashstorm was, perhaps, the most mundane of all them, even if the most immediate and the most annoying, for it had completely halted his already slow-paced journey, forcing him to take cover in an Ancestral Tomb. Since he had no need to disturb the spirits of the dead, the Ordinator set up his little camp right next to the doors, so that he would immediately know when the Ashstorm stopped.

Still, Raynari was already beginning to think of this decision as a mistake – the constant howling of the wind and the creaking of the doors as they bent under the breath of the raging elements had already given him a headache, and undid his plans to get a little rest, a luxury he did not have for the past several days, save that short nap right before the battle for Ald’Ruhn began.

It was almost obvious now, though, that he wouldn’t have fallen asleep even if everything was dead silent, even the spirits below in the tomb (for during the entire three hours Raynari was forced to take shelter in the Tomb, the shades of the past did not silence – moaning was ever-present). No, there were too many vexing thoughts in his head – now, after the initial joy and surprise had passed, Raynari realized what he had done – set Dagoth Ur free from the Ghostfence by felling the Ghostgate, and brought ruin upon one of the greatest cities in Vvardenfell, the capital of the Redoran. His conscience was only beginning to carefully lift her head, and was quelled for the meantime by the joy of having his body back (for it had not yet passed, lasting like Dagoth Ur hoped it would). Inevitably, some day in the future Raynari would realize what had he done; for now, he was living in blissful ignorance.

His conscience, however, was only one thing that bothered Raynari – there were several others. His main concern at this time was the task at hand, issued to him by Dagoth. The words that were spoken to him only yesterday still echoed in Raynari’s head, a fresh memory:

“It is time for you to reclaim what once was yours but has been lost, Indoril Nerevar! The time for you to be accepted again by the Mer of Resdayn is at hand. In the coming war, we shall need for Azura to look upon us favorably; else all might fall, for the Mother of the Rose, as much of a pity is it to admit it, always gets what She wants. My hope lies with your fate - you are the prophesied Nerevarine, the Reincarnation of which Azura herself spoke; and She shall look upon you consent, if you are approved by the Nation of Resdayn as Indoril Nerevar Moon-and-Star Nerevarine. For this, however, you must recover one of your ancient belongings – the One-Clan-Under-Moon-and-Star ring.”

“I have heard, and the Sixth House ears and eyes were gleeful to prove my assumptions correct, that the Tribe of Urshilaku knows much of this, for they are the guardians of the Nerevarine Prophecies. Go to them, and discover the location of Moon-and-Star. These three tokens shall help you prove to them that you are a worthy warrior. There are reports that a few weeks ago, several of the Urshilaku warriors found my fortress at Kogoruhn; their Ashkhan should know where those things were taken from, and honor you accordingly.”

The ‘tokens’ that Dagoth spoke of were three items – a lump of Corprus meat, a ceremonial Sixth house cup, similar to which Raynari had seen in his own temple, and a Dwemer-made shield, with some runes carved onto it, and a green, gloomy glow coming from the iron ball in the middle. It was beyond him how those things would help him, though he guessed them to be from Kogoruhn, the lost Dunmer Stronghold which Dagoth mentioned.

Thoughts about those items, his mission and his past did not leave Raynari for as long as the winds howled outside; thankfully, about an hour later, the Ordinator realized that the fury of the nature seemed to have passed, and the ash was settling down outside.

Quickly, he rose from the ground, taking his cuirass with him. Thanks to the one remaining blacksmith in Ald’Ruhn, the ex-Ordinator’s armor was gleaming once again; that is, it was gleaming until the vomits of the past were raised and thrown at him. Still, it was once again without a scratch, just like before Ald’Ruhn fell. Raynari himself was, too, ‘fixed up’ – no less than three scars grinned on his body now, yet the wounds were sealed and no more than a grim memory.

Making sure that the straps of his cuirass were firmly holding both parts together, Raynari stepped out to the world beyond the door of the Ancestral Tomb.

Wind cut into his face like a hundred knives, yet the ash was gone. Relieved by that, the Dunmer lapped his head from nose lower with his tan, weathered and worn scarf for protection against the wind. Like many small whips, Raynari’s red hair flapped around, making him regret for once that he had such long hair – they reached all the way to his shoulders. Still, ignoring the irritating yet minor pain, he set his foot forward, his heavy boots releasing an obtuse ‘thud’.

Just press on. It shouldn’t be that far away… Raynari encouraged himself, struggling against the wind. Had he not been wearing his boots, the ash that was still flying slightly above the ground would’ve proven to be another source of annoyance and pain – and yet, this was the price one had to pay for setting out to travel right after an ash storm had passed.

By the name of all the ancestors of House Vandareth, I hate this place…

***

All things holy, I don’t know how much longer I will be able to take this… Raynari muttered under his breath, his fingers almost digging into the rock he had grasped. Obviously, climbing a mountain with armor was one of the worse decisions of his life, as he came to realize after noticing his progress was minimal – he had been already attempting for half an hour to scale this small mountain, which from his map he guessed to be the only thing between him and the Ashlander Camp, yet he had only climbed less than a third of the entire obstacle.

Suddenly, one part of him chuckled.

’All things holy’? So says the one who had done no deeds but unholy ones! So says the Nerevarine, ‘savior’ of the Nation of Resdayn, who sold himself to the Devil of the Mountain, the eternal enemy of the Tribunal! So says the one who had brought the fall of what generations of his own House had upheld, so says the disgrace to his ancestors! So says the executioner of the Great House Redoran, who-

However, the tirade of his conscience was cut off.

“You!” A shout came from bellow him. Looking down, Raynari noticed a number of Chitin-armored Dunmeri. Raynari could always boast having sharp eyes, so he noticed the many earrings those Dunmer had. One of them was aiming a small composite bow at him, the arrow prepared to bite into his flesh. Raynari knew all too well of what composite bows could do even to Ordinator armor, and what Ashlanders (for these Mer were ones, there was no doubt of that) thought about people with an appearance similar to that of Raynari.

“By the name of Azura, what are you doing there?!” The bowman yelled. The other two Mer, one armed with a spear and the other with a clutch of javelins, remained silent, yet from their pouting, Raynari guessed them to be completely for the idea of skewering him.

“Trying to climb over this Vehk-damned mountain, obviously!” Raynari yelled back, before biting his lip. He had shouted ‘Vehk-damned’ to try and sound inconspicuous, yet he realized too late that he was talking to Mer who hated both Vehk and all things – or Mer – associated with him.

“Don’t try to play smart with me, Temple lackey.” The bowman sneered. “Down you go, lest I let go of this arrow – and know, by your Vehk, that it will not miss.”

Raynari bit back a reply, for once ignoring his rash temper that was given to him by the Stars, and slowly began climbing down. The process was a lot faster, especially after the bowman encouraged him to hurry up with a well-placed arrow that now oscillated right where Raynari’s head was seconds ago.

With such aid, Raynari was quick to get down. He was greeted by the Ashlanders’ faces, filled with obvious hatred and disgust, and by the tip of the spear of which he had made note on his way down. The Ashlander that wielded it looked like he would not hesitate a moment to fulfill their unspoken promise to skewer Raynari as soon as he did something wrong.

“Did you not know,” This time, the javelin-wielding Ashlander began speaking. “That this is the land of Tribe Urshilaku? This is where we hunt – guars and disrespectful settlers like you alike.” By ‘disrespectful settlers’, the Ashlander obviously meant only the casual lone Ordinators – they were too smart to begin messing with larger groups of men or mer in which the Imperial legionnaires, House Guards and Ordinators usually traveled.

“If you are of the Honorable Urshilaku, then I have found what I was looking for.” Raynari replied, trying to disguise his true feelings about the ‘honorable’ Ashlanders and their tribes – nomad barbarians, as he called them even before beginning his dealings with Dagoth Ur.

All three of the Ashlanders raised their eyebrows in cold surprise.

“Explain yourself.” The spear-wielding one spat out.

“I have traveled to this place only to find the Tribe of Urshilaku, and talk with their wise Ashkahn.” Raynari replied.

“Ashkhan.” Spearman again almost spat the words out, with so much venom that Raynari could’ve swore that if he was closer to him, this hatred would’ve hit him as hard as any Ashlander’s fist would. “What dealings a settler, and a follower of your ‘Temple’ would have to do with our wise Ashkhan, Sul-Matuul?”

“I am no follower of the Temple, not for the past several weeks. Azura has enlightened me, and helped me realize how foolish the teachings of the ‘Gods’ are.” Raynari tried to put as much venom into the words ‘Temple’ and ‘Gods’ as the Ashlander did in the whole sentence, yet he failed utterly – for even if his mind and lips were saying one thing, his heart remained with whom it had been since his childhood.

“Your lips say one thing, yet your mind might be thinking the opposite. If you no longer follow your ‘Temple’, why did you call this hill ‘Vehk-Damned’, and why do you wear the armor of the cruelest and blindest of all settlers?”

“Old habits die hard. And, as I said, I was blind only until Azura came to me in a dream several weeks ago, and showed me the light.” Raynari replied as coldly as he could – all this interrogating was already getting on his nerves, and he was never one to hold down his real thoughts and opinions for a long time.

The three Ashlanders looked at each other for a while, occasionally shooting a venomous glance towards Raynari, before the javelin-wielding one finally spoke, as if they had been conversing all this time through their minds, or talking a whole different language Raynari could not even hear:

“Very good. You shall be brought before our Ashkhan, and tell him what you must tell. He shall decide your fate – we do not wish to take such decisions upon ourselves, for we do not possess the wisdom of our Ashkhan or our Wise Woman.”

Raynari held back a sigh of relief. “Could I, perhaps, learn the names of those who are to be my… guides in this rocky path to your Ashkhan?”

The spear-wielding Dunmer looked as if he was about to say something more than rude to Raynari, yet forced sweeter words to come out of his lips:

“I am Ashahulu Adur-Dan.“

“I am Han-Ilu Ashunbabi.” The bowman introduced himself. The javelin-wielding Dunmer hesitated for a while, before speaking as well:

“And I am Shabael-Matuul.”

Raynari realized that this meant that the Ashlander in front of him was a relative of the Ashkhan of the Urshilaku, judging from his appearance maybe a son. Quickly, he forced himself to bend his back in a bow:

“I am Raynari Vandareth. Now, lead me where you will – I have nothing to fear.”

***

Apparently, Raynari was taking the most difficult, yet the most straightforward way towards the Ashlander Camp, as he realized during his trip with the three Ashlanders. If he had climbed over the mountain, he would’ve then had to descend again, and then climb another mountain, this one somewhat smaller. All this would’ve left him exhausted, and probably resulted in trouble, as the Ashlanders were wary of travelers coming from that side. ‘Wary’ as in ‘hostile wary’, of course.

The three hunters whom Raynari had encountered led him through another path – it was a narrow path between mountains, one very difficult to find, thanks to both nature herself and the Ashlanders. Only the Ashlanders themselves and a few clan-friends were aware of this route.

The journey through the path took slightly more than half an hour, and the sun was already starting to sink west by the time that Raynari was brought before Sul-Matuul, the Ashkhan of the Urshilaku Tribe. Amongst the Ashlanders, only the Zainab Ashkhan was more powerful, due to Zainab’s fertile lands, yet Sul-Matuul had the most respect of them all.

“Father,” Shabael-Matuul bowed to the Ashkhan. Sul-Matuul seemed to be very physically fit, and was still in the age when a warrior can have greatness worthy of legends – he was older than Raynari, who was thirty-four in Dunmer count, yet no older than fifty. His eyes, however, seemed to be filled with wisdom beyond his years, reminding Raynari of the eyes of an old traveler he had once met in a roadside inn.

“Father, this settler claims that he had come to our lands seeking to see you, for he was enlightened by Azura.”

Sul-Matuul rubbed his chin thoughtfully, looking at Raynari with a searching glance; Raynari tried to appear as best as he could to the Ashkhan. He had turned his hand in a way that the Ashlander could not see his ring, for some reason – the Ordinator suspected that somehow, the Ashlander might see a connection between the ring and the Devil Dagoth Ur.

“Thank you, Shabael. You may go now.” Sul finally nodded. Unwillingly, Shabael-Matuul turned around, casting one last glance of mistrust at Raynari before leaving the yurt.

“Sit.” Sul gestured towards one of the carpets on the ground, sitting down on one himself. He crossed his legs in a way it seemed like he was meditating, then folded his arms. Raynari sat down in the same way, waiting for the Ashkhan to speak the first word. His pack, in which the items Dagoth Ur gave to him were he put next to the carpet, within arms reach.

After a minute of silence, Sul-Matuul finally spoke:

“Tell me, Settler, what wind has brought you to my land? Is what my son told true – did you come here, seeking to see me in my humble dwelling?”

Raynari swallowed something stuck in his throat – lying to Sul-Matuul somehow wasn’t the same as lying to his son, or to the two other Ashlanders.

“My name, Mighty Ashkhan, is Raynari Vandareth, and I indeed do come to your lands to see you, for your son is no liar. The wind that guided me here is one that all good Dunmer know and pray – the guiding hand of Azura. The Mother of the Rose came to me in my sleep one fateful night, and spoke to me many things, many of which I wish to keep to myself for the time being, not because I mistrust you, Mighty Khan, but because She has instructed me so.”

Sul-Matuul nodded quickly. “I understand.”

“One thing that She has told me to share with you, was that I came here under Her guidance, and that I must prove myself to you, in order to learn of the Nerevarine Prophecies.”

Silence reigned in the Ashkhan’s yurt for several minutes, yet it seemed like an eternity to Raynari.

“You tell… of odd things.” Sul-Matuul spoke again. “Things that are very hard to believe – almost impossible. But you cannot be dismissed as a liar, for that would be a great mistake. If Azura did indeed speak to you, She was right by saying that you will need to prove yourself to me before I open to you the secrets of the Nerevarine Cult.”

Raynari nodded slightly, showing to Sul-Matuul that this is not unexpected to him. The Ashkhan coughed, and then continued:

“Several weeks ago, I and several of my finest warriors have made an expedition to the deep ruins of Kogoruhn, an ancient stronghold. We have seen many horrible things there, of which I do not wish to speak, and will probably only tell them to my son at my deathbed. Amongst the many horrors, I have seen several things which I had not seen before. I wish you to bring me back several of those things.”

“The first thing would be a lump of meat of a Corprus monster. Second, will be a large, red wooden cup, used for purposes no honest Mer will ever know of. Third, a Dwemer-made shield, with many runes crudely carved onto its surface, and an odd gleam coming from the inside of the iron ball in the middle.”

In response to those words, Raynari laughed loudly, then buried his face in the ash. Sul-Matuul seemed to be disturbed by this sudden outburst of joy, yet he did not call for anyone, waiting for Raynari to explain himself, or just move.

Finally, Raynari lifted his face up from the ash; this joy was not entirely feigned, as it saved him great many hours, the fact he already had those items with him. Slowly, he removed the cloth from the items in his pack, and showed them to Sul-Matuul – a lump of Corprus meat, a ceremonial cup, and the Dwemer shield.

“But… how?” Sul-Matuul seemed to be awed by the fact the very items he had requested several moments ago were lying in front of him.

“This, Mighty Ashkhan, is proof that Azura is, and that I am no madman. In my dream, Azura told me to get these items, and bring them to you as a gift; I found, through great difficulty and peril, the ruins of Kogoruhn – not without Her help, of course – and claimed these items as mine.” Raynari replied, bowing to Sul-Matuul.

The Ashkhan inspected the three items for a while, trying to make sure if they were real; however, he was left satisfied concerning the reality of this little miracle.

“This is very odd; it backs your claims as to being visited by Azura. Things that before seemed impossible now seem very real…” Silence once again reigned in the yurt for a few moments, before Sul-Matuul continued:

“I shall send you to my Wise Woman; she shall know what to make of this, for the ancestors guide her thoughts. Tell her that, if she judges you as worthy, she is to reveal to you in my name what we know of the Prophecies.”

Raynari stood up, then bowed. Without another word, the Ordinator left the yurt, leaving Sul-Matuul to his own thoughts.

Can this really be him..? The Nerevarine? Is the time already at hand? Azura help us all in these strange days…

This post has been edited by Gaius Maximus: Jun 27 2008, 11:20 PM

[Gaius Maximus]

Chapter XI, Part II

Brushing aside the cloth that separated the yurt from the rest of the world, Raynari stepped out. After the stiffly air of the Ashkhan's yurt, the evening air seemed bitter cold, forcing the Ordinator to lift his scarf up like he had during the ash storm. Truly, the hellhole of Vvardenfell... The Dunmer's nose wrinkled slightly. A trip through the Ashlands is bad enough as it is; how do those Mer survive here is beyond me. He shuddered slightly, looking around the camp. As soon as he turned his head, he noticed several clothes that were the 'doors' to the other yurts shuffling; Raynari suspected that the Ashlanders were watching him, and indeed, from the corner of his eyes he could see several pairs of red eyes. A young Dunmer boy even dared to stick his head out, yet it was pulled back in by his mother quickly.

The sun had almost sunk in the sea by now - the Ashlands were trying to soak in the last few rays of sunshine before the night set in. The fires in the Ashlanders' yurts danced, and they would continue until the sun rose again and shed warmth upon the land - the nights in the Ashlands were ferociously cold, and all Ashlanders and experienced travelers knew that. The guars from herd of the Urshilaku pressed against each other for warmth, the creatures rubbing against each other’s sides. The warmly clothed Ashlander herder rubbed his hands together in a similar manner as he walked around, occasionally stopping to scrub the side of one or another guar. The creature would then grunt with satisfaction, triggering a chain of sorts as all the guars began grunting.

Raynari shook his head slightly, trying to brush away his thoughts about the blissful life he'd live as an Ashlander. No, His Indoril honor gave him a mental slap. I was born an Indoril, an Ordinator, and I'm proud of it. However, the moment those thoughts came to him, Raynari was forced to bite his lip. Are you? The ex-Ordinator's conscience squeaked. Raynari rubbed his eyes and sighed wearily, before quickly hurrying towards the largest yurt beside the Ashkhan's, hoping his troubling thoughts would be left floating as a dark cloud in the spot he stood moments ago.

The yurt was not that far away from the Ashkhan's, yet its entrance was facing the same way as the Askhan's, so Raynari had to walk around it. When he finally found a door, the ex-Ordinator made note of what he guessed to be the sign of the Wise Woman's yurt - a rug, made out of wool, as far as Raynari could see. On the rug was depicted what he assumed to be a black shalk, or so he thought, since the creature was similar to a giant scarab, and since scarabs did not live in Vvardenfell, Raynari couldn't think of a way for the Ashlanders to know of them. None of them seemed to like traveling a lot, anyway, and he didn't know of any merchants that would trade scarabs.

Gathering his courage, Raynari attempted to knock. The only thing he managed to do was make the cloth move, yet that was enough. From inside, a raspy, old voice came:

"Who summoned you?"

"Sul-Matuul, Ashkhan of the Urshilaku under Moon and Skies." Raynari replied, recalling an old phrase some of the Dunmer still used while greeting each other. His mother in particular used it frequently, particularly when speaking with Temple Priests.

"Why did he send you?" The voice continued.

"To test me and, should I pass the test, tell me what the Urshilaku know of the Nerevarine." Raynari's nose again wrinkled - those silly Ashlander customs were lasting too long for his taste. He could've answered questions for hours and hours straight during daytime, yet he was freezing, which made him irritated. If this continued for long, he could soon lose what calmness he had left, and start spitting out not such pleasant words at the Wise Woman.

Fortunately, his rage was not to spill. Yet.

"Enter."

Raynari suppressed the urge to rush into the tent and warm up next to the fire that was obviously burning within the yurt, and instead walked in slowly, lowering his scarf to again cover only his neck.

Immediately upon entering the yurt, Raynari swallowed a cough as some sort of a colorful mist flowed straight into his face. For a moment, the only thing the Wise Woman could make of him was a pair of blinking, rather annoyed crimson red eyes, glancing from a purple cloud.

Even more irritated, Raynari waved his hand in front of his face, trying to rid himself of the mist, which proved to be quite an annoyance, as it seemed to keep coming back. Finally, the ex-Ordinator realized what was happening, and stepped away from the entrance, allowing the mist to wiggle out, directed by the barely noticeable draught.

Finally free from the mist, Raynari bowed to the Wise Woman in front of him, Nibani Maesa. This action allowed him to cast a quick glance around the room.

In the middle of the yurt, a fire blazed. All around it, clay bowls and pots were placed, filled with odd substances, herbs, plants and parts of animals of the Ashlands. Those mysterious things, obviously used during rituals and worship of Good Daedra and the Ancestors, were what emitted the mist, as some of the pots and bowls heated up from the fire and the heat triggered some of the content's alchemical properties.

On the wooden supports of the yurt, many more plants and herbs hung, many of which Raynari was seeing for the first time. There were little plants that the 'settled people' were accustomed with, as they did not grow in the Ashlands, and trade between settled and nomad Dunmer was, at best, scarce, as only several merchants were willing to journey out of the cities into the Ashlands, where the 'nomad devils' lived and claimed to rule. The Ashlanders, on the other hand, were not too keen to journey out of their territory either, and both sides stuck to the unwritten rule that neither would touch the other until provoked. The Ashlanders broke this unspoken agreement at times, but then, so did the settle House or Temple people. Imperials considered themselves above this, and took what they wanted from the Ashlanders while giving them little, if anything at all.

Asides for the plants, there were little objects within the yurt. An old wooden table on which lay more pots and bowls, a worn bedroll, and a pair of carpets, almost identical to those in the Ashkhan's yurt, summed up the Wise Woman's Nirnic possessions.

However, Nibani Maesa herself seemed much more worthy of attention than her yurt.

The Wise Woman was an old Dunmer, as could be expected. She wore simple Ashlander-made robes, adorned with fangs of animals. Her face was ploughed with wrinkles that seemed to be much deeper than those of your usual Dunmer woman of respectful age. And her eyes... Her eyes were unlike any others Raynari had ever seen. While as red as those of any other Dunmer, Nibani's eyes seemed much, much deeper and much more understanding. In a way, they reminded of the Ashkhan's eyes; however, they seemed much more mature, hiding treasures of simple, yet great wisdom of the Ashlanders.

“You say that Sul-Matuul sent you?” Nibani snapped the ex-Ordinator out of his thoughts.

“Yes. He told me to go to you and seek your wisdom on the matter of the Nerevarine Prophecies.” Raynari replied, again feeling irritation rear its ugly head in his chest – how much longer until the actual test began? After all, he had a play to pull, a Temple to bring down and a continent to conquer, he didn’t exactly have much time to chatter with wise women of Ashlanders, no matter how much wisdom they seemed to possess.

The Wise Woman wrinkled her nose. Impatient. Quick to anger. Something is troubling his heart, perhaps a difficult choice to be made. She quickly evaluated the Mer in front of her. This was certainly not the Nerevarine as she imagined it, but then, these days nothing was as one would like. And if the Nerevarine would prove to be this flawed person, then he would at least be able to save Vvardenfell and all of Tamriel, or so Nibani hoped – this ‘Nerevarine’ certainly seemed able-bodied as a warrior, her tribe valued such people.

“Very well. I shall take your word for it so as not to waste more time. Sit.”

Raynari held back a frown. ’Take your word for it’... What is she implying that Ordinators are liars? That the warriors of the Temple and House Indoril are not honourable enough to be trusted by the devious nomads? Again, he found himself defending the one thing he was supposed to despise as a high-ranking member of the Sixth House.

Regardless, Raynari sat down. Nibani took an empty bowl off of the table, set it in front of the fire, and sat down as well. For a few minutes, the only noise in the yurt was silent shuffling of the Wise Woman’s robe as she picked up and put ingredients into the bowl. After a while, it was exchanged for the noise of those same plants being mashed with a pestle.

Finally, Nibani stood up, the bowl in her hands. She approached Raynari.

“Close your eyes.” The Wise Woman instructed, and as the ex-Ordinator did as he was told, he noticed that Maesa was soaking her thumb in the mush.

A shiver went down Raynari’s spine as the unpleasantly cold mush touched his face, the Wise Woman’s thumb directing it, painting some sort of ritualistic signs all over his cheeks, chin, brow and even the eyelids. Occasionally, it would stop when Nibani would need more of the mush, before again resuming her work.

After several minutes, which seemed like hours to the ex-Ordinator, Nibani lifted herself up, putting the bowl down on the table. “Do not open your eyes.” She instructed, collecting more of her ingredients.

Raynari could not make out much of what was going on around him. He could see some smaller lights appear next to the large one – perhaps Nibani was setting down candles, or whatever the Ashlanders used in their place, around the fire? The only real thing he knew was that some sort of a robe was whirled around him, or rather thrown on his armour. Obviously, these were preparations for some sort of a ritual.

Finally, Nibani spoke again:

“Listen closely, and repeat my words exactly as I speak them.”

Raynari nodded slightly, incapable of fending off the feeling that he was being treated as some sort of an old mer who has trouble understanding the world around him. That reminded him of his father – an Ordinator as well. Sorrow gripped Raynari’s heart as he remembered how the once great warrior turned more and more childish as years passed by, as even Mer, despite their long lifespan, were not spared by time. Then, sorrow was replaced by fear as he thought about what would his father, his entire family say if they saw him now, and knew of his deeds.

“Mother of the Rose, Goddess of Dawn and Dusk, Mother of the Dunmer, Lady Azura, I speak to you, asking your guidance.” Nibani once again snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Mother of the Rose, Goddess of Dawn and Dusk, Mother of the Dunmer, Lady Azura, I speak to you, asking your guidance.” Raynari repeated, as if they were exercising for some particularly hard part of a play and he was being assisted by someone who knew it very well.

“Show me what is right and what is wrong; show me what is true and what is false.” The Wise Woman continued, Raynari repeating everything.

“In these uncertain times, be a guiding light like your Dawn for your Nation, and bring an end to their enemies like Dusk brings the day to an end.” Again, Raynari repeated everything, feeling as if he was one of those Daedric worshippers, sitting in a shrine in the middle of Vivec, seemingly the only one aware that the Ordinators will barge in any second and put a quick end to this.

“If your prophecy is at hand, if your chosen is here, give me a sign clear as the day you bring.”

After Raynari repeated those words, several things happened suddenly – Nibani let out a short yell, the biggest light in the yurt disappeared, changed with a bright flash, one from which Raynari couldn’t hide even behind his eyelids. The ex-Ordinator was unaware that the sun had sunk behind the horizon that very moment.

After a few moments, the slightly wavering voice of Nibani reached Raynari’s ears:

“You may... open y-your eyes now.”

Eagerly, Raynari did so, quickly looking around the yurt.

The fire had went out, along with the things that vaguely resembled candles that were put around it in bowls. One of the bowls had cracked, as Raynari noticed. Nibani Maesa was shivering slightly – apparently, she did not expect this to happen.

“This... this undoubtedly was the sign we needed. The Ashkhan should be here soon... Then, we will speak of the secrets of the Nerevarine Prophecies, which our Cult has been guarding for ages uncounted now. I trust Sul-Matuul will want you to pass the test of Wisdom, and to find and take the One-Clan-Under-Moon-and-Star, the ultimate proof of the Nerevarine.”

[Marcel Rhodes]

It's good to see this fic start up again. We don't see much from the angle of any Ordinator, let alone a corrupted-item-of-prophecy one. I especially like the slow introduction of Raynari's conscience; I suspect it'll come up again sooner or later.

Oh, and I thought I'd ask: is this story based on the Sixth House mod? If it's not, it might interest you (although I haven't played it myself, I only hear good of it).

[Gaius Maximus]

Oh, and I thought I'd ask: is this story based on the Sixth House mod? If it's not, it might interest you (although I haven't played it myself, I only hear good of it).

I was wondering when someone would ask that (maybe someone did already, my originally good memory has been eaten up by video games). It kinda is - originally I intended it to be a slightly different take of that mod. Now it became some sort of a mutant. I guess my claim for glory as a fanfic writer is to be blamed.