Cyrodiil Options

[Olen]

This is excellent, everything morrowind was and more. There is such a web of characters and plots all fitted together which gives it a nice sense of depth.

the snake-man had assured her - I sense there is an awful lot in that line, I sense plot and cunning afoot and want to know more.

If I were to offer a criticism, and doing so is very much for its own sake as its certainly not an issue, it would be that at times I feel that things are shown in a rather black and white manner with some definatly being right and others wrong. This is arguably part of the overall style though and is also arguably nessesary to make the plot easier to cope with.

On that note I like the use of poeple from the game, it lends the work (and to an extent the game) a greater depth. It also makes it far easier to keep tabs on the characters.

[redsrock]

I'm halfway through chapter three and I'm loving it. Really, really good stuff, and unfortunately I can't find anything to pick at.

[Alexander]

Back in her chambers at the All-Saints Inn Countess Arriana angrily threw her outer robe on her seat and walked into the room of Verata-Ves. Dressed as always in his plain robe befitting his status of messenger of the gods he looked up as she entered.
“Verata-Ves, you told me the others would see the obvious logic of my words, but they voted against me. How do you explain this when you claim to be a messenger to the gods?”

“My dear Countesss, I do more than claim; I am. Don’t you remember?”

Arriana hesitated, for she did remember. During her last silent prayer in the Chapel of Stendarr, she had heard the voice clearly, coming from the stained-glass picture of Stendarr himself. It had bathed her in light and confirmed what she had always known- , that she was destined to be a tool for the gods. Then it had told her it would send a representative of the Divines to counsel her, and behold, behind her Verata-Ves had appeared, come down from the Divines’ plane to assist her. At first she had wondered at the odd choice of a messenger; a Tsaesci from Akavir, but she quickly forgot her wonderment because as everyone knows, the Divines work in mysterious ways.

“Of course, forgive me Verata-Ves; it’s just that I don’t understand why they voted against me. I believe it could be the work of someone trying to bring ruin to the Empire.”

“A mossst well thought out theory, Countesss. I had thought the sssame.”

“What will we do, Verata-Ves? The well-being of the Empire stands or falls with this. We must think of some way to remove this influence from the Elder Council.”

“I agree Countesss; pleassse, tell me all that wasss sssaid.”

After listening to Valga’s recounting of the meeting, her advisor remained quiet for a while. Arriana likewise considered her next course. It was Verata-Ves who spoke first, though.

“It ssseemsss to me Countesss, that your daughter’sss wordsss were inssspired by the Divinesss to aid you. Through her, they tried to sssteer the counsssil into doing the right thing. Unfortunately, Corvusss, who isss obviousssly an agent for thisss diabolical influenssse, interfered.”

“Yes, you know I was just telling myself that, Verata-Ves.”

“Yesss, I think the Divinesss were giving you a message; they wisssh for your daughter to ssspeak for Leyawiin.”

“I agree Verata-Ves. We need to come up with a way to make her ruling Countess of Leyawiin. If the Divines wish for Marius Caro to die to make place for my daughter, then who are we to protest? We are but tools for their will. But how can we go about it?”

“Perhapsss we can go further Countesss. I’ve been thinking, and there might be a way to sssolve two problemsss at the sssame time. Consssider thisss- if you hire a band of mersssenariesss to do the deed, no one will sssussspect you were behind it, and whatever force is influensssing the Elder Counsssil and turning them againssst you will be none the wissser. And if you hire Argoniansss to do it, your cassse for recalling the Legionsss becomesss ssstronger. But I feel assshamed; sssurely in time you would have thought of the sssame thing, Countesss.”

“Ah, of course I would have, Verata-Ves, but it’s good of you to get things moving along. Now, how can we come up with a way to get Marius Caro away from Leyawiin? Obviously we can’t have it done there.”

Arriana thought about this for a moment, and then smiled. Of course, the solution was simple, and Verata-Ves was wrong- she would solve three problems at once, not two.







Two days later, Count Regulus Terentius opened the wooden gate leading into Reedstand cave. He felt soaked to the bone. Traveling in this nightly rain should be forbidden, it would likely ruin his clothes. But considering his thoughts, he decided he was being silly. A message of this importance from a close friend would be reason enough to traverse any weather. Trying to wipe the rain from his face he followed the only servant he had brought as they headed a small distance into the cave. There was very little light, so Regulus was glad he had thought to bring a servant skilled in the arts of fire magic.

Not far from the gate he found Marius sitting down; he too had brought a single servant with him. “Marius!” As his name was called Marius got up and warmly shook the hand of Regulus.

“Marius, what awful weather you choose for such a meeting.” Regulus didn’t understand the look of confusion on Marius’ face, so he added: “I’m sorry; do you enjoy this weather, Marius?”

“No, no, it’s not that, but the other. I choose for the meeting? But you asked me to come here.”

“What are you babbling about, Marius? I received your messenger only this afternoon; he carried the message with your own seal.”

“Could I see it, Regulus?”

Regulus showed him the message, which was short and to the point;

Regulus,

I’ve stumbled across information regarding a plot against your life. Meet me tonight at Reedstand cave. Trust no one.

Your friend,
Marius.

“Regulus, I did not write this. Nor did I ask anyone to write this for me. My wife gave me a letter she got from one of your messengers asking me to come here to discuss ‘a matter of life and death’”

“I sent you no letter, Marius. Nor any messenger.”

Marius’s look said it all, as he came to the same conclusion as Regulus. They had been betrayed. Drawing his sword he saw Marius do the same. Looking around to make sure everything was clear, the four of them quickly headed back to the entrance. Even before they got there they saw lights shine outside. Opening the gate, Regulus and the others came to a halt just outside the cave.

In front of them they saw a large band of Argonians, all on horseback. Looking at the horses with an admiring eye, Regulus noted they were of prime stock, though he thought it unlikely he would be able to steal one during the struggle that would be unavoidable. Nor would such a feat do much good, if only for the specialized Argonian saddles. Considering their numbers, there were clearly far too many for Regulus and Marius to beat, even with the servants to bolster their numbers. But no one had ever had reason to call Regulus a coward. He boldly strode forward and spoke to what appeared to be the lead Argonian.

“I am Regulus Terentius, Count of Bravil and this is my land. Identify yourself and state your business here.”

A laugh came from the ranks of the Argonians and the leader spoke, “This one has courage- admirable. Greetings. What I am called is of no importance. We come to end your lives. Lay down your weapons and we promise to make it swift and painless.”

Regulus looked over at Marius who nodded in confidence. The servant Regulus had brought with him was still young, and was shaking both from the cold rain and from fear. Regulus whispered to him, “Be brave now, Melkior. It will soon be over.”

Turning back towards the Argonians, Regulus cried out his defiance; “Prepare to die, scum!”

Count Regulus Terentius, Count Marius Caro and their two servants bravely charged the band of Argonian mercenaries.

[Alexander]

Chapter 5. opportunity?

Ocato couldn’t believe it. Two counts dead in a single day. He had a thousand questions and very few answers. What were the two of them doing in that cave? If they were meeting, why were they meeting? By all appearances, a large band of Argonians had done the deed, but what could a band, any band, of Argonians gain from the deaths of two counts? Nothing. At least nothing that Ocato could see right now. So they had to have been working for someone, but for whom? Who could gain from their deaths?

Had it just been Leyawiin it might be a different matter, but Bravil made it puzzling.

“Jauffre?”

“Yes, Chancellor.”

“What can you tell me about Gellius Terentius? I know what kind of Countess Alessia will be in Leyawiin, but what can we expect from Gellius?”

“Not much I’m afraid, Chancellor. He’s a typical spoiled nobleman’s son. He’s addicted to gambling, drinking and we understand he’s addicted to Skooma as well.”

“So what you’re saying is he’ll be a leech on our treasure chests until the day he overdoses?”

“I’m afraid so yes, Chancellor; he’s nothing like the son of the Cheydinhal count. When he becomes count some day, you’ll be certain to have a strong and just ruler in place.”

“Jauffre, do you think someone could control Gellius? I mean force him into doing their bidding?”

“Hm, perhaps, if someone approaches him with enough power, I think it would be near impossible for him to stand against such a person.”

“Thank you Jauffre. I need some time to think this over; would you please leave me?”

Ocato stared unseeing at the wall as his thoughts continued along their reluctant course.
No, it couldn’t be, could it? Could Countess Valga be behind this heinous slaying? With the death of Count Caro, Lady Caro, daughter of Countess Valga, would become the next ruling Countess. And someone like the Countess was surely ruthless and strong enough to blackmail young Gellius into voting her way. Was she so determined to pass her proposal as to kill off those voting against her? Ocato shuddered. With Gellius and Countess Caro voting her way, Countess Valga still only had three votes. There had to be more going on and Ocato was determined to find out what before the next meeting took place in two days time.

Opening the door to find Jauffre standing guard in the corridor Ocato asked, “Jauffre, please send word to Anvil, and ask Count Umbranox if he can come into the city very early. I’d like to speak with him privately.”

Ocato reasoned there would be none better at political maneuvering then someone who had headed the Thieves Guild for so many years. It was moments like these where he was eternally grateful for Jauffre’s intelligence, and his discretion.

Very late the next evening Chancellor Ocato met with Count Umbranox. It was their second time that day and Count Umbranox had spent most of his day meeting all the other counts separately.

“I believe we may have a problem, Chancellor. I believe you’re right in your assumption. Count Gellius and Countess Caro will vote with Countess Valga, but to my astonishment, so will Count Indarys. I have no idea what Countess Valga told him, or threatened him with, but he made it clear enough that he will vote her way as well. That gives her four votes. Countess Carvain is yet undecided, as always lately.”

“Yes, ever since the Daedra attacked Bruma and she caught a glimpse of that siege crawler she has been terribly insecure about everything. I think nowadays she must spend an hour deciding on whether to wear a blue or a red corsage.”

“And in this matter she is not very different. I believe I’ve managed to convince her to vote with us, but I just can’t be sure. Janus of course will vote for us. I don’t think there’s anything anyone could say to force Janus to do anything he doesn’t want to.”

“So that gives Countess Valga four definite votes, it gives us three votes and Bruma yet undecided. It’s a very close call, Corvus.”

“I agree Chancellor, but unless we can come up with a few more Counts that agree with our way of thinking between now and the Council meeting tomorrow morning, I don’t think we stand much of a chance.”

“It’s a shame the late Count Goldwine of Kvatch is no longer with us; he would surely have voted with us. And obviously the steward that rules now, what’s his name, Hosidus, is not allowed to vote instead of a Count.”

“Hm, he’s no count no, however, Chancellor, I believe you’ve just given me an idea. May I have use of the Imperial Library for the rest of the day? I’d like to study some old records if I may.”

“Of course, Corvus; the place is yours.”

“Thank you, Chancellor; I’ll see you tonight after I’m done if that’s acceptable.”

The meeting that night did not last long, but when Ocato went to bed afterwards, it was with a smile on his face.

[Alexander]

With cold sweat on his face, Ocato startled awake that night. He was breathing heavily and had to take a moment to get his breathing under control again. He had had the most awful nightmare. He couldn’t remember all of it, but he could remember a single shape- a tall, wide creature with burning eyes and long pointed claws. Spread out behind it were two large white wings, and the being’s skin was white as snow. It was truly the stuff of legends.

A noise just outside his chamber doors disturbed his ponderings. “Evangeline,” Ocato called. There was no reply.

Getting up out of bed, Ocato pulled on his robe and headed for the door. Preparing a spell that would incinerate any attackers he might encounter, he opened the door, only to find there were no attackers, merely an old Imperial guarding his inner chamber. Evangeline was not at her usual place behind the desk. From the looks of the old soldier he’d had a little too much to drink. Not only was he wearing antiquated armor rather than the regulation armor and slowly swaying on his feet, he was also quietly singing what appeared to Ocato were very old drinking songs. He likely hadn’t even registered the door opening and Ocato standing there looking at him.

“What is the meaning of this, soldier?” To Ocato’s surprise the guard didn’t even try to straighten up at the sound of his voice.

“Ah Chancellor, I’m sorry if I woke you, I was merely trying to keep myself awake. At my age it becomes a problem, you know.”

The insolence of the man. “Soldier, do you realize you’re out of uniform? How could your sergeant allow you to come up like this?”

“Ah begging your pardon, Chancellor, my sergeant doesn’t really know I’m here. I traded shifts with someone else; I was the sober one of the two of us.”

Ocato merely shook his head in wonder. If this was what the Legions had become, the empire was indeed in for a very challenging time. “Why don’t you come with me soldier; we’ll go find your sergeant and get this sorted out.”

“Yes sir, Chancellor, sir.”

Walking through the palace corridors with the old soldier in tow, the first thing Ocato noticed was how quiet it was. No sounds reached his ears, no cling of armor, no sound of iron or steel boots hitting the floor. There were no Ancestor Moth priests either, which by itself was disturbing as they prided themselves on being ever vigilant in guarding the Elder Scrolls. He was about to ask the old soldier about it as they were passing through a door to the guard level, when Ocato found one of the doors to be stuck. It appeared as if someone or something was blocking it. The other door did open normally though, and looking at the back of the blocked door Ocato saw Evangeline standing there, with one hand on the door as if wanting to open it, but she seemed to be frozen in place. Ocato didn’t even see her chest moving to breathe in and out. “Evangeline,.” he called to her. He got no reply.

Slowly touching her skin, he discovered that it felt as cold as ice. Still though, it did not appear to Ocato as if she was dead. Turning to the old soldier he asked if he knew what was wrong, but the look of puzzlement said it all. Ocato thought the best thing to do now was find the other guards and ask them what had happened.

Running towards the guard room, Ocato slowly became aware of an ever increasing sound, which seemed to be coming from somewhere beneath them. Unfortunately, as he entered the guard room Ocato saw they would not be of any help either. Each one of them was frozen in place just like Evangeline was. Walking back outside he saw the old soldier was keeping close. He likely was more scared of all this than the chancellor, Ocato figured.

The sound he had been hearing seemed to be coming from a lower level. Rushing further along the corridors towards the sound, Ocato came to door leading to the ground level of the palace, the level where the Elder Council chamber was located. By his estimate the sound seemed to be coming from within the Council chambers. Opening the door to the ground level with the old soldier laboring to keep up, Ocato first noticed two guards standing to either side of the door. Both were wearing the same antiquated armor the old soldier was wearing, and both looked very much alive and unfrozen. They didn’t even recognize Ocato as he passed between them and to Ocato it looked like both were somehow strangely less then solid.

Walking on and opening the doors to the Council Chambers he stood still in shock. It looked as if a party was going on. Everywhere he looked people were drinking, and laughing and having a blast. Strangely enough, he did not recognize any of the people inside at first glance. What really caught his attention though was the Imperial throne, which Ocato had moved into the basement for the time being. It was back in its original place, looking as if it had never left, and on it someone was seated. Walking inside the chambers to catch a better look, Ocato felt as if his jaw had just dropped. Seated upon the throne was Tiber Septim himself. And surrounding him on all sides, the four legendary Blades; Rielus, Casnar, Valdemar and Alain.

“This has to be a dream.” Ocato told himself out loud.

“A dream? Yes, well sort of anyway. A memory would be better suited.” Ocato heard the old soldier as he came to stand next to him. Ocato now realized the soldier had never really been drunk.

“Look at him Chancellor, look at the emperor. He’s so filled with pride and confidence. This is when he celebrated the creation of the Empire. Just a week ago he finally beat the Aldmeri dominion, and now feels he’s unstoppable. He’s already plotting what would be his greatest crime against the Empire- killing those neutral royal families just so they cannot oppose his claims in the future. How I wish I could take him apart and give him a piece of my mind. Alas, what has gone before cannot be changed; only the future may be influenced lest Akatosh gets cross with one.”

While the old soldier was speaking, Ocato quickly realized he was much more than an Imperial guard. He suspected he knew who it was, but it was one thing to look at Tiber Septim sitting on his throne, and quite another to have him stand next to you. And both at once? It was much too late for such a complicated thought.

Turning to Ocato, the soldier spoke again; “You must be wondering why I brought you, Chancellor. I have a confession to make. During my days I was not entirely faithful to my wife. There was a Breton servant at the court whom I could not resist. I fathered a son with her, and sent her to live in High Rock for fear of embarrassing my wife. The line from that son has been going strong throughout the ages, and is unbroken to this day. Yes Ocato, there is a single Septim left alive. He is of Imperial and Breton descent and is destined to rule the Empire as the next Septim.”

Ocato’s mind was reeling from the implications, a lost heir, another lost heir aside from Martin? Could the Empire really be that lucky?

“What does he look like, Emperor Septim? And where will I be able to find him?”

“Please, call me Wulf. I haven’t been Emperor around these parts in many centuries. And as to how he looks, look around Chancellor; an image of him is inside these very chambers.”

Looking around Ocato saw many of the partying guests, but they all looked very much like the Emperor on the throne and like the guards, they were all somehow transparent. All but one. Ocato mused as his eyes were drawn to someone. A bumbling Jester, complete with silly hat with bells on it, and trying to juggle, cats? Like Tiber, Wulf and himself, the Jester was the only one in the room who looked normal.

“A Jester?” he asked Wulf.

“Why not; it seemed like a good disguise at the time. Had the Mythic Dawn found out about him, they surely would have killed him as well, so I had no choice but to hide him, in a disguise and well away from the grasp of the assassins. One thing to remember Chancellor; in naming him, he will know himself. Don’t worry if it doesn’t make sense, it will when the time comes.”

“And where did you hide him, Wulf?”

“Safest place in the Empire, Chancellor; outside of it. I hid him in the one place I knew the assassins would not look, I hid him in Morrowind.”

[Badda-Tish]

I need more... more... This is really great and very exiting to read.

[Alexander]

Chapter 6. If at first you don’t succeed.

Arriana was very pleased with herself; so far her plans had been successful. Two counts opposed to her divinely-inspired plan had been replaced with a Count and Countess who would vote in favor of it. And just this morning, while at her room in the All Saints Inn, she had had a meeting with Andel Indarys, Count of Cheydinhal. Even as he was raving and shouting at her, she was able to keep her cool. She had known long before the meeting that no matter what he said or threatened her with, afterwards he would vote her way no matter what she proposed. It was awful, but sometimes someone didn’t know what was good for them. Luckily for them, Arriana was there to guide those lost sheep back to the flock.

There was one more stumbling block, Narina Carvain, Countess of Bruma. They had met last night after Count Indarys had left, and had talked through most of the evening. No matter what she said though, Arriana had not been able to break through Narina’s indecision. She had nothing against Countess Carvain personally, for like herself she had always been a devout follower of the Divines and they had enjoyed many inspiring conversations about their faith in the past. Since the Bruma siege though, Narina had changed a lot. It seemed to Arriana as if she couldn’t even decide about what to eat anymore, let alone how to vote during council sessions.

While someone like that usually could be persuaded by Arriana’s divinely-inspired presence, it became harder when two people were telling her two different things. Apparently Corvus Umbranox had also had a meeting with Narina, even before Arriana spoke to her, and he had talked so convincingly as to make it impossible for Narina to do the right thing. Yes, the more Arriana thought about it, the more obvious it became to her that Corvus was, if not the evil force influencing the Elder Council himself, then surely he was a high ranking agent for it. How else could he explain his long absence from Anvil? But he had made one mistake; he should have kept his hidden agenda hidden. By exposing it to Arriana he had let her know upon whom she should focus her next actions. Surely he never suspected Arriana was working for the Divines themselves.

Putting on her coat, she again wished Verata-Ves could be there with her, but he had been right in saying it would be better to minimize the chance of his being seen. Anyone working for the other side would know Arriana for what she was if she saw a messenger of the Divines alongside her.

Walking outside towards the palace, she was surrounded by a number of Chorrol guards. She trusted them more then any others and had respectfully refused a Blades escort, knowing her own guards would be more than up to the task. Walking past the common people in the street, she often muttered a blessing or two to the ones most unfortunate. Some beggars and handicapped asked her for money, but Arriana knew money would not solve their problems. Surely they had insulted the Divines in some way, and unless they would repent their sins, they would remain in their current station for the rest of their lives.

As Arriana entered the Elder Council Chambers she found the others were already seated. Her musings had made her tardy. She quickly sat down and waited for Chancellor Ocato to start the meeting.

“Welcome all. As I’m sure you are all aware, two of our fellow Council members have been brutally slaughtered this past week. I will spare you the details as I’m sure most of you have heard them already. The preliminary investigation by the Blades points to a large band of Argonians who did the deed. Several corpses of Argonians were found near the bodies, and from what I understand from Countess Caro, one of them was captured alive but died during the questioning. Countess, would you explain to the others what you told me?”

Arriana didn’t have to listen to her daughter to know what she would say. The Divines had made it clear lying was forbidden, but not of course when you’re serving a greater purpose. She had gone over the story with her daughter and the young Count Gellius Terentius. It told of how one Argonian was wounded in the fight and left for dead by its comrades, how under torture it had confessed to being part of a plot to disrupt the Empire and so on and so forth. Arriana had had to make sure Gellius was so scared of her he would be too afraid to use any skooma that day. And Arriana noted that while sober, he was surprisingly coherent. She would have to remember that.

Once Alessia was done, Arriana rose from her seat to address the Council; “Council members, I am shocked and outraged at what has happened. This was a vile attempt to undermine the rightful rule of the Empire, a vile underhanded attack straight into the heart of the Council. We need to make sure whomever did this is punished severely for it.”

“My heart goes out to Count Terentius; your father was a brave and noble man. I also must express my sympathy for Countess Caro. Your husband was a close friend of my late husband, and perhaps it is a comfort, that they are finally together again.”

“Through all this though, I would be remiss if I did not once again mention my proposal from the last meeting. Had we started withdrawing Imperial Legions back into Cyrodiil then, this tragedy might not have happened. But alas, what is done is done, and not even Akatosh can reverse these tragic events. I implore you though, not to make the same mistake twice. Let us once again put this matter to a vote and, with the help of the Divines, I hope we will choose more wisely than before.”

Looking at Chancellor Ocato while she said the last words, she slowly sat down. Arriana knew the Chancellor had to put this to a vote. He had no choice.

“Well then, as you request Countess, I hereby put to the vote the proposal of the Countess from last time. That is- withdrawing all Imperial Legions to Cyrodiil, and keeping them here for a duration of at least ten years during which time we will improve them and after which we will send them out into the other provinces once again. I shall ask for your votes in person.”

“Countess Caro, how do you vote?” “In favor.”

“Count Terentius, how do you vote?” “In favor.”

“Countess Carvain, how do you vote?” “I’m, I’m so sorry, but I really don’t know yet, perhaps if I give it some more thought, yes, yes some more thought. For now I abstain. I’m so sorry, but I’m just not sure.”

“So the count is two in favor, and one abstention. Countess Umbranox?” “I vote against.”

“Count Indarys?” A silence ensued. Arriana looked at the Count of Cheydinhal pointedly, and after some further silence he grudgingly proclaimed, “In favor, damn it all; I vote in favor.”

“Count Hassildor?” “I vote against.”

“And finally my own vote, against.”

Arriana had trouble not jumping up in joy. Truthfully, she had never expected Countess Carvain to vote with her; it would have been a bonus, but was not required. Even without her, she had four votes, which beat the three votes against. The will of the Divines had been served. Now she listened intently to Chancellor Ocato, he had no choice but to announce the vote had gone in her favor.

“So, all the votes have been cast. Since Countess Arriana has submitted the proposal, she automatically votes in favor of it bring the total to four votes in favor, three against and one abstention. With that the proposal has...”

“A moment if you will, Chancellor.”

Arriana turned to look at Count Umbranox. Even though not a ruling Count, he was always there during the meetings, advising his wife and often raising issues himself. Why would he interrupt the Chancellor, Arriana asked herself.

[Alexander]

“You have something to add to the voting, Count Umbranox?” Ocato inquired.

“I’m sorry, I mean no disrespect to the Chancellor, but I fear your count is not entirely accurate.”

“Ah, and how is that Corvus?”

“Even when not technically a Count of the city, when one rules a city, one holds that city’s vote in the Elder Council. So it was written by Emperor Uriel VI in year 315 of the Third Era, two years before his unfortunate accident. It was written after a series of illnesses had claimed the lives of three of the Counts of Cyrodiil, and someone raised the point of needing a quorum for the Elder Council to be able to put a proposal to a vote. The Emperor countered with this piece of law and appointed several Seneschals in charge of the ruler-less cities. Since the Seneschals were completely in the employ of the Emperor when they ruled those cities, their respective votes reverted to the Emperor and could be cast as he saw fit.”

“I remember reading about that once, Corvus, but what is the relevance here?”

Arriana had already made the connection, and she cast a look of pure hatred towards Count Umbranox. For him to try and influence the head of the Elder Council in such a manner with everyone looking on was truly evil.

“The relevance is simple Chancellor,” Corvus continued, “at the last meeting we all agreed to appoint a temporary ruler over Kvatch. It just so happened he used to be a Seneschal and is, I believe, still in the employ of Count Hassildor. Therefore the law of Emperor Uriel VI applies and Count Hassildor has the right of two votes.”

“I see.” Turning towards Count Hassildor, Ocato asked him, “Count Hassildor, for the record, do you wish to cast your second vote differently from the first?”

“I do not,” came the sure reply.

“I see. Then with that vote, the voting has tied. Four votes in favor, four against and one abstention. Countess Carvain, do you perchance wish to change your vote to either in favor or against?”

Every eye in the room turned to look at Countess Carvain, who looked as if she would just as soon become invisible. She managed to mumble in a stuttering voice that she would prefer to abstain from voting.

Looking back to the Chancellor, Arriana caught a glimpse of something she did not understand. It looked as if the Chancellor had just winked at Count Corvus. And was that a sly smile on Corvus’ face? This was not right, not right at all.

“Then unfortunately this motion is once again off the table. Perhaps we can continue discussing it during a future meeting. Now then, there is something else I would like to discuss, not so much a proposal as more of a story.”

With that, Arriana saw the Chancellor take out an old iron coin and hold it up. He continued; “Last night I had the most amazing dream. It started like this.”

Ocato proceeded to tell the story of his dream to the Elder Council. Arriana was suspicious from the start- the Chancellor meeting Talos? In the flesh, so to speak. Ridiculous. She herself had served the Divines more loyally then anyone ever had, and all she had heard was their voice. No, the idea of the Divines showing themselves to the Chancellor was ridiculous.

“And so when I woke, naturally I thought the dream just that, a dream, perhaps even wishful thinking, but when looked at the table next to my bed, I found the iron coin I had received during the dream. Thus I know it was no mere dream.”

“As Chancellor and head of this Council, I’m sending Jauffre, Grandmaster of the Blades, along with several assorted men, to travel to Mournhold and seek an audience with the Lady Barenziah. If anyone knows where this mysterious Jester can be found, it will be Lady Barenziah.”

“And when they return, we shall once again have an Emperor.”

It finally dawned on Arriana. How could she have been so blind? Ocato himself had been converted by the evil powers working against the Empire; he was now an enemy to the Empire just as much as Corvus Umbranox. But thank the Divines, Arriana was there to stop their diabolical plot.

After a hard ride back to Chorrol, Arriana was now deep in conversation with her advisor. She had told Verata-Ves what had happened and naturally he was as shocked as she was. She sensed he was also impressed with her conclusions regarding Chancellor Ocato. Sensing she was one step ahead of him, she continued, “I believe we can solve this problem the same way we did the last. I we can find out what route the caravan will take as they return here with the false heir, no doubt some Daedra or other Demon. We could have the mercenary Argonians waylay them and end the travesty before it begins. After that, we’ll need but a single vote from one of the other Counts or Countesses cast differently the next time, and the Divines will be served.”

“A mossst exsssellent conclusssion Countesss. But who can we convinssse of the righteousssnesss of your caussse? Sssurely not Countesss Umbranox, nor Count Hasssildor, who isss a creature of the darknesss himssself. Who indeed?”

As if the gods had planned it so, at that moment a servant entered and whispered into Arriana’s ear. “Countess Carvain, here? Show her in.”

“Sssshould I leave, Countesss?”

“No, stay; I’m sure the Countess Carvain would love to meet you.”

Countess Carvain entered, not with the two burly Nords walking beside her as was usual, but alone. That was a good sign, Arriana thought; surely she would not have left the guards behind unless she felt safe in Chorrol.

“Welcome Narina, to Chorrol. What brings you here?”

“I, I wanted to come and see.” Narina stopped in mid-sentence; she had just spotted Verata-Ves. “By the Nine, the auguries were true then. A Tsaesci has descended from the heavens to advise you, Countess Valga.”

Arriana beamed, “Please, call me Arriana.”

“I, I am unworthy Countess Valga; thank you for seeing me.” Walking up to Verata-Ves Narina bowed from the waist and spoke, “Honor to you, and may your eggs be plentiful.” Verata-Ves bowed back and Narina spoke again, “I’ve so wanted to meet a true Tsaesci one day. Thank you Countess Valga, for this great honor you do me.”

“It is nothing, but please tell me Narina, what brings you here?”

“I, I have a confession to make, Countess Valga. I have voted against you twice now, but both times my mind did something different than my heart wanted to. I, I feel your proposal is the only way to move the Empire out of this crisis, but I don’t know, I just feel so scared of Count Umbranox. He tried to convince me that voting in favor of your proposal would be very dangerous for me. I, I think he was threatening me. I just don’t know, Countess Valga. I feel so weak, so powerless.”

“I understand Narina, Count Umbranox can be a very intimidating man. What can we do to reassure you?”

Verata-Ves was the one who replied though, “Ah, Countesss Valga, if I may, I may have a sssolution to thisss problem. Asss you know, during the firssst Era, sssome of my misssguided countrymen ssstaged an invasssion of Sssyrodiil. They were driven back by the Imperialsss, obviousssly becaussse the Divinesss were not with them. An artifact was left behind though, in the care of ssslave warriorsss, closssely resssembling Imperialsss. It was sssaid, the wielder of the Draconian Madssstone would be protected by the godsss themssselvesss. Perhapsss thisss would make Countesss Carvain feel sssafe?”

“An excellent suggestion, Verata-Ves. Well Narina, there you have it; retrieve this Madstone and you’ll be safe from Corvus Umbranox and whomever else might wish you harm.”

“B- but I can’t send one of my men there. What if someone attacks me while I have men looking for the stone? I, I could die.”

“You’re right of course, Narina, but I can’t send my men either, I am a target as it is. No, who can we send that is expendable? Ah, I know, Farwil Indarys, a Knight of the Thorn, always looking for a quest to help mankind.” Sending him would be the perfect choice Arriana mused. It would both strengthen her hold on the Count of Cheydinhal and win over Narina with no extra effort on her part. “Verata-Ves, where can we find this Draconian Madstone of yours?”
“It isss located in Pale Passs. And if the Countesss permitsss, I ssshall sssend word to the Argoniansss to get ready to kill the falssse heir.”

[Olen]

Oooh lots of updates. Awsome as ever. I like the plot, theres an awful lot going on there. And its quite tense but with politics, another sort of thing I like - this really is very good.

If I were to make a criticism it would be that occasionally your word choice seems a little odd, I can't remember many examples (so it can't be so bad). One was in Ocato's dream they were having a 'blast' which seemed a little out of place.

But having said that the feeling that things are about to go wild is getting really strong, I like it.

[Alexander]

Chapter 7 Dealings with the Brotherhood.

The way through Fort Farragut had been strenuous to say the least. At each turn and every intersection, Baurus was assaulted by undead, Daedra and even a small band of Marauders that had somehow survived in this relic of a time past. Despite all of that though, Baurus finally felt sure again, sure in the knowledge that he had a goal now, a link, a possibility for saving Varvur. If the chance was slim, it was still better than sitting in the Imperial city guarding noblemen and noblewomen.

Up ahead Baurus saw a very solid-looking gate. Upon approaching it, he could not detect any opening mechanism on his side. Fortunately he didn’t have to ponder this dilemma for very long, because as soon as he came close, the gate opened by itself.

“Welcome young Blade. It isn’t often I get to play host for anyone, considering the remote location and my occupation. I don’t get too many visitors, as you’ll likely understand.”

A mocking laugh followed the jovial statement, and Baurus looked around, trying to see the person who had spoken. But such was the size of the ancient fort that he couldn’t even make out which direction the sound had come from

“Please, young master Baurus, don’t be afraid. Please come inside before more undead show up. Once they come to this gate, the sound they make always keeps one up at night.”

Baurus reckoned he didn’t have a choice. Lucien, and by now he had little doubt that that it was Lucien Lachance whose mocking voice echoed in the darkness, was the one he needed to see. If that meant walking into the unknown to receive the information he was looking for, then so be it. That didn’t mean he had to be careless though, he reminded himself with a smile.

Edging his way forward, he found himself in the living quarters of Lucien Lachance. Behind him the gate boomed shut. “Just a precaution, you understand, don’t you Master Baurus?”

“Yes, I guess I do.”

Looking around, Baurus didn’t think the home looked like what he would have expected. To be sure, it was located inside a dark and damp fort that would have been unremarkable 500 years ago, but the living quarters themselves looked very normal. There were no stacks of poisoned daggers, no shackles or piles of rope, no recently-deceased bodies lying around. No, if it hadn’t been for the remote location and his knowledge of the occupation of this Lucien Lachance, Baurus would have thought him to be a normal, everyday person- just one who preferred to live in isolation.

Hearing a sound behind him, Baurus turned and found himself face to face with the man himself.

“Lucien Lachance at your service, Master Baurus.”

Baurus caught himself looking over the master assassin, and saw a regular Imperial, no bigger than one you’d meet at random somewhere. He was clothed in a hooded black robe, but most telling were his eyes. He had that look Baurus knew so well, the look that said he’d killed many men, and would do so again should the need arise. And perhaps he even enjoyed what he did.

“How do you know my name, Lucien?”

“It’s our business to know, Master Baurus. If knowledge is power, then the lack of knowledge, especially in my line of work, means you don’t survive very long. I’ve known you were on your way here since you left the Imperial City. In fact, I’ve known for a long time now that the Blades knew my hiding place. But why go through the bother of finding new accommodations when the Emperor’s Guard has no interest in ‘bringing me to justice’.”

“How do you know what our plans are?”

“Oh come, Master Baurus; you don’t seriously believe the Blades is the only organization in the empire we haven’t infiltrated do you? I believe you’re smarter than that.”

“But how did you know I was coming here? Maybe five people knew I was coming here, grandmaster Jauffre, Captain Steffan, Chancellor Ocato and his bodyguard and Janus Hassildor. Surely you don’t expect me to believe one of them is a spy for the Dark Brotherhood?”

The silence that followed was telling; obviously Lucien did know more, much more, than Baurus believed possible, but he was just as sure that he’d never get him to talk. It was funny; ever since coming through the gate Lucien had been nothing but civil, going so far as to address him as ‘Master’, yet despite that, Baurus couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this powerless. So he gave up that fruitless line of thought and returned to the purpose of his visit.

“Perhaps it’s best if we just leave that be, Lucien. I didn’t come here to find a traitor; I’ll let Grandmaster Jauffre worry about such things.”

“A wise choice. Now, I believe you came here for some information regarding one of our operatives. Please, ask your question and I will see if I can answer it.”

“You’re right, Vicente Valtieri. Does the name sound familiar?” Baurus thought he’d caught a glimpse of something other than confidence in Lucien’s eyes as he said the name. With such a stone cold killer though, one could never be certain.

“Well now, the name does have a certain ring to it. But before I reply, what is it you want with Vicente that you can’t have from me?”

Baurus pondered the question. He could try and come up with a story now, or he could try and find an easy way to get the answer he was looking for, but if Lucien thought he was being fooled, or at least someone was trying to fool him who knew what might happen.

“I’m told you once met Varvur Sarethi personally, Lucien.”

“Yes Master Baurus, I did once have the pleasure of meeting with young Varvur; I even traveled with him, if for a short period of time. Last I heard, though, the Champion of Cyrodiil died defending the Imperial City.”

“Yes, that’s what most people believe, but it’s not entirely accurate.” Baurus suddenly felt relieved; if Lucien didn’t know the real events from that day in the Temple of the One, he might not be as knowledgeable as he’d just tried to get Baurus to assume. ”What really happened is unfortunately at least as serious as what you’ve heard.” Baurus then quickly filled Lucien in on the events that had transpired.

While he was speaking, he finally saw some more emotion on the face of the assassin, perhaps even go a hint of sympathy.

“I am so sorry to hear that, I truly am. Yes, I know Vicente, or rather I knew Vicente.”

“Why, what happened to him?”

“Surely you understand, Master Baurus, in an organization like ours, secrecy, discretion and trust are the things that keep us alive. From time to time, though, we find not all of our- ah, call them employees- are as trustworthy as others. Unfortunately but a few days ago, there was a cleansing, our version of taking out the trash if you will. A young apprentice of mine who is showing uncanny potential took care of the deed. I’m sorry to say Vicente Valtieri was one of the employees that was, ah, cleansed.”

Baurus was speechless. Was this it then, an internal power struggle among a bunch of hired killers would turn his search for Varvur into a dead end?

“So that’s it, he was killed and now there’s no chance of finding a way to get Varvur out of Oblivion?”

“Now wait just a moment, not so hasty, let me think here for a second.” Lucien paced up and down the length of his table a few times, then stopped. “There might just be a way out of this. Tell me, Master Baurus, how do you feel about Necromancy?”

“Necromancy? What are you suggesting?”

“During my travels I meet an assortment of people with professions and gifts that are somewhat unusual. One person I met not too long ago was able to communicate with the recently deceased. Since meeting him I’ve had some dealings with him, and I’m sure that if the price is right, he’ll be able to help us with our little problem.”

Baurus thought this over. While Necromancy wasn’t technically against the law in Cyrodiil, the practice was frowned upon by many and those who performed such feats were shunned by most people. But he did not have to think very long. At this point, Baurus might have sold his soul to get the answers he needed, so if necromancy was the key, then so be it.

“I’m not a rich man, Lucien. I likely can’t meet the price for such a thing.”

“No, no, you misunderstand. I’ll provide the money. Call me soft, but I rather liked Varvur, even admired him for what he did. I’m not sure if I would be as certain and confident charging into an Oblivion gate as I witnessed him doing during the battle for Bruma. I did what I could there, a poisoned knife or arrow thrown or fired on occasion, so long as I was not seen of course, but little enough other than that. No, paying for this is not a problem; I owe Varvur that much for threatening to have him kidnapped the first time I met him.”

Baurus found himself confused; he had never expected to hear such a thing from a cold- blooded assassin like Lucien. But then perhaps he wasn’t entirely as cold-blooded as he let people think.

“Thank you Lucien. How do we proceed?”

“Let me handle all the details. Please, find yourself a room at Cheydinhal for the night and meet me tomorrow night at the East gate. I’ll be there at eleven in the evening, with my associate.”

[minque]

Alex....really...Do I need to comment? Because you already know what I think of this..or no???
Ok then I'll just say..you did it again! You're so good at this you know! I love the way you make the known characters alive..oh aye...

Brilliant my friend....brilliant

[Alexander]

Baurus found himself looking at the gate. Two guards were standing in front of it with torches but other then that everything was dark. Looking around, he hoped Lucien and his Necromancer friend would arrive soon, at least before some patrolling guard mistook Baurus for a criminal and shot him before he could even explain who he was

“There you are.”

Baurus spun around, wondering how Lucien had been able to sneak up on him, a feat no one managed since he completed his Blades training. Baurus barely suppressed a shiver.

“Come now, swiftly Baurus, before someone sees us. It does not do to be seen at night.”

Lucien led Baurus to the back of what appeared to be a long abandoned house. They entered it through a small gate in the well that appeared to be in good repair, despite the apparent rust. Crawling through the passageway into an underground hideout, Baurus saw the inside of it was not as shabby as he had expected. Standing up, he found himself looking up at a tall Altmer who loomed over him in the semi-darkness. The Altmer, like Lucien, wore a black hooded robe, but where Lucien’s had no markings, this one’s robe had a red skull and two hands on the front of it.

“Master Baurus, allow me to introduce my associate; Tarenen. Tarenen, take it away.”

A hollow voice issued from the Altmer; “Death. It’s such a beautiful thing; the body dies, releasing the spirit to live on for ever, just so long as no soultrap spell is being used eh, hahaha.”
The Altmer began to walk around the room standing still occasionally, at times touching a certain object, or a part of the wall.

“I sense much violence has gone on here, many lives taken in a short amount of time. Violent deaths are good for the ceremony; spirits often tend to remain at the scene, confused as to how and why they were released from their fragile flesh.””

“His name was Vicente Valtieri you said, Lucien? I sense him, vaguely, but I sense him. Though not here.” Tarenen turned around until he was looking straight at Baurus, who felt a sudden chill. Then when the Necromancer started towards him, Baurus had trouble not drawing his sword. But luckily Tarenen walked right past him and toward what appeared to be a corridor leading farther downward into the sanctuary.

“Come, come, it’s this way.”

Leading them down several slopes, Tarenen finally stopped in front of the last room in the corridor. One of the doors was open and looking inside, Baurus saw a room where the most striking item was a stone slab. It would not have looked out of place in a graveyard. He assumed this was the room the vampire Valtieri used to call his own.

“Yes, I sense his spirit here; it’s very strong, I won’t be able to control it for long before it might try to take control over me. Please, Lucien, Baurus, step inside and close the door. It’s time to begin our ritual.”

Baurus didn’t know where all the candles came from, but he and Lucien must have lit nearly a hundred over the course of the next hour. Tarenen would instruct them to put each one in a certain place, hesitate, then either have them move it a centimeter or two or give them another one. When he wasn’t giving them directions, he was quietly chanting. Baurus couldn’t really make out the words, but somehow he didn’t think that was a bad thing.

When the last candle was set, at least Baurus assumed it was the last candle, since Tarenen did not hand them another, Baurus looked at the necromancer. He was standing with his back to the room, looking at the slab of stone.

Suddenly Tarenen started talking, but to Baurus, it seemed the voice had a different ring to it than before; “Luuuciiiiennnn, mistaken, MISTAKEN! No traitor here, MISTAKEN!”

Baurus thought Lucien had a look about him as if he’d just heard a ghost, but then he probably had. He was quick to recover though. “Vicente, what happened, happened, please believe that I had a good reason to do what I did. But for now, we need your help with something.”

Again that voice from beyond the grave; “Why help you? MISTAKEN!” Baurus had always been quick on his feet, so before Lucien could reply he interjected, “Vicente, an old friend of yours says hello, Janus Hassildor.”

“Janus? Yes I knew him, many years ago.” Tarenen now turned around to look at Baurus, or rather the body that was usually the Altmer. It was a creepy sight, for the eyes had rolled back into the skull, yet Baurus somehow knew whatever possessed Tarenen could see him clearly.

“You’re not Janus, where is he?”

“Janus could not come, Vicente; he could not leave Skingrad, but he begs your help in an urgent matter. Will you give it?”

Whatever was inside Tarenen seemed to think that over for a moment, “ASK! And I shall answer.”

Baurus looked at Lucien, who nodded for him to continue; “You told your friend Janus of how the Ancient who turned you told stories about robbing Daedra princes in their own realm. What is the name of the Ancient and where can I find him?”

“Ancient, yes, an Ancient turned me, brought me into the dark side. I was out hunting guars one day, and forgot about the time. In the dark, I suddenly saw two white dots coming straight for me, and I felt pain. Then, when I woke up, I was inside a Dwemer structure and saw a man looking out into the sky through a Dwemer telescope. He explained things to me, and I was his from that time forward. His name was Raxle Berne, and the place was Galom Daeus.”

During all this, Baurus noticed the spirit had talked much more coherently then before; perhaps telling the story reminded him more of his humanity, or Vampirity. So Raxle Berne was the Ancient whom he had to find.

“Thank you Vicente. Lucien, thank you for your help; I’m going to leave right away.”

“Of course, Master Baurus, that’s probably for the best. I believe Vicente and I have some things left to ah, discuss.”

Baurus noticed that as he said that, Lucien seemed to loosen his muscles and his hand appeared to be closing onto some hidden weapon or other.

Just as he went through the door though, Lucien spoke one last time; “Ah, Master Baurus, good luck. I sincerely hope you find Varvur and bring him back.”

Baurus nodded once, then walked out the door, closing it after him. From inside he heard a sudden boom, likely a spell had gone off,. followed by cursing and shouting from two people.

Baurus never looked back, He was already thinking about the next place he had to go; Morrowind.

[Alexander]

Chapter 8.

Tired and angry, Filben rounded a corner in the lower section of Nenyond Twyll. Up ahead yet another Necromancer was waiting for her. Her battle through the Ayleid ruin had been a hard one. Necromancers had accosted her even as she was nearing the ruin. Filben had considered heading back and reporting this strong resistance to the Arch-Mage first, but had decided it would be better to first see if she could find the informant no matter how many Necromancers she might come across. Besides, what if the man was in trouble?

So her fight through the ruin had commenced. Necromancers seemed to be waiting for her around every turn, even appearing from secret passageways at times, but somehow Filben had been able to either kill them, or send them running, but now yet another Necromancer waited. Sighing at the inevitable, Filben proceeded towards her. The surprise was great when rather then finding some nasty spell flying her way, the Necromancer instead spoke; “I’m afraid you’re late to the party. The guest of honor has already left.”

“What do you mean?”

“We found out who the traitor was, and I do hate to disappoint you, but Mucianus is in no condition to be leading. He’s a Worm Thrall now, and shall be quite content here.”

“How did you find out it was him?”

“That is of no concern to you, but I shall tell the master you were here looking for him. Perhaps I’ll bring him your head as an offering.”

And with that, the Necromancer fired a fireball at Filben. Filben was only narrowly able to dodge it, but shot back a shock spell from her staff which killed the Necromancer.

“I’ll never know what your name was, but in death you provided a service to the Mages guild.” Filben said aloud. Walking on past the body, she found two hidden levers that each opened a door leading into the room where Filben found the late Mucianus, now a Worm Thrall just as the Necromancer had told her. Feeling it was the right thing to do, Filben ended the existence of the Thrall, hopefully allowing Mucianus to rest easy.

So there was a traitor within the Mages guild? The Necromancer had indeed provided them with a service, if Mucianus had only been turned earlier that very day, then the traitor or traitors had to have found out about his identity after the meeting in the Arch-Mage’s chambers. It would seriously narrow the list of people it could be.

Good, all the more chance to flush them out soon.

Spending the night at the Faregyl inn seemed a better idea then traveling back in the darkness. She had already passed the inn on her way to Nenyond Twyll, and it seemed like a cozy place.


During the night she woke with a fright. Looking around the room, she thought she could sense someone else’s breathing. “Hello, is someone there?” She called out to the darkness, and the darkness replied.

“Hello Filben, I hope I did not give you too much of a scare.”

“Who are you? And what do you want from me?”

“Want from you? Nothing. The question is, what do you want from me?”

Thoroughly puzzled now, Filben waited for the man’s voice to continue. “The other day you killed a man in a black robe at the old bridge. In doing so, it seems you have done the Dark Brotherhood a service. We do not like being in someone’s debt, so we offer you our services on one job of your choosing. Regardless of the size of the job, we’ll be there. But afterwards be assured we are even, and will never see each other again, unless of course fate brings us together and it is my knife sliding into your back during the night.”

“You are the famed Listener?” Filben spoke.

“No, I speak for the Listener. Call me Lucien. Now, when you decide what you want us to do, leave a message at the statue of the lucky old lady in Bravil. Make sure it is addressed to Mathieu Bellamont. That name is the codeword. Repeat it please.”

“Mathieu Bellamont.”

“Good, now that that’s settled nighty-night little Bosmer. And sweet dreams.”

Pushing back the covers, Filben immediately cast a light spell, hoping to see what this Lucien looked like, but by the time the spell has been cast, there was no sign of the man.

[Alexander]

Getting back to the Imperial city the following afternoon, Filben immediately headed for the Arch-Mage. She found him pacing inside the Council chambers on the second floor of the Arch-Mage’s building. She quickly explained to him what she learned at Nenyond Twyll.

“This is most disturbing. Mucianus was our best chance to find out more about the Necromancers’ organization. I agree with your theory that someone inside the Mages guild has been providing them with information. I would rather not consider this, but to willfully turn aside from the truth is treason to oneself.”

“You did well Filben. I’m promoting you to Warlock for your efforts. And I have a new assignment for you. As you saw downstairs, both Raminus Polus and Tar-Meena have returned from their mission to warn the cities. Unfortunately both Caranya and Irlav Jarol have not. I’ve received no word from them since sending them out, nor any word from four of the chapters. Skingrad has confirmed Irlav came there, but nothing after that. It’s as if both of them disappeared.”

“It is vital that you find both of them. Each one is not only a member of the Council of Mages, but also guardian of a powerful magical artifact. Caranya guards the Necromancer’s amulet, and Irlav guards the Bloodworm helm. Should the artifacts fall into the hands of the Necromancers, it will increase their power immensely.”

“I want you to travel to Bruma first. See if Caranya was able to reach it. If you find her, travel on to seek Irlav. If not, report back to me before you continue. Do you understand?”

“I do. I’ll leave as soon as I am able to.”

[Olen]

I think you know what I'm about to say... Great stuff, this is really nice to read, it flows well and is good and complex. I liked the necromancer being used to speak with the dead, nice touch, I wander if we'll be seeing him again.

So good I annouce cake all round.

[Alexander]

Chapter 9 Morrowind revis(it)ed.

Morrowind in recent years had undergone quite a few changes. At the border with Cyrodiil, as well as the other provinces, a giant Ghostfence now made sure no one could enter the province without the Dunmer or other inhabitants knowing about it. Baurus snuck into the province on the tail of a Caravan

The recent war that had culminated in the creation of the new Ghostfence had seriously changed the balance of power in the province. Where once House Hlaalu was the dominant force, mainly thanks to Imperial backing and their vast network of spies, now it was reduced to a second rate House.

Even though the new leaders of the house had declared they were in full support of the undisputed ruler, the Lady Barenziah, other Houses still looked at them with distrust. One does not shake the stench of betrayal easily. That was how the other Houses perceived it anyway, as a betrayal. How could you not know your king was in reality a battle mage, the son of one of the Empire’s greatest enemies?

Baurus thought the difference was not hard to notice. Walking through Balmora, once arguably the center of Hlaalu power on Vvardenfall, he thought it looked more like a slum than the prosperous city it had been when he had been there once before. But his mission did not allow him time to dwell on the changes- he had come to get directions. He wasn’t too certain where Galom Daeus was, but no one in Balmora seemed to have heard of it, or if they had, they weren’t saying anything.

On the other hand, when he came into Suran the difference was even greater. It had once been a Hlaalu town, but had been captured by the Telvanni during the war, and never returned. It now served as gateway into the Telvanni parts of Vvardenfall. One could still see the original Hlaalu architecture, but now it was intermixed with Telvanni Tels. Where once the manor of the local Hlaalu leader had stood, a giant Tel now rose out of the ground to loom over the town. It had also grown a lot since Baurus had last seen it, and was now at least twice as large as before. In fact, it appeared there was only one building in the town that had fallen into disrepair, with a weathered sign that named it the former slave market. Baurus assumed it was a none-too-subtle sign to all visitors- a reminder of Telvanni power and of the force of Nerevar’s will.

Fortunately, someone in Suran did have directions to Galom Daeus. After asking around for some time, an old man came up to Baurus, a Breton, if Baurus was any judge. He used a staff to help him walk and had long white hair and an almost equally long beard. He looked none too strong, and looked better suited for lying in bed, but he explained to Baurus he was going in the direction of Galom Daeus himself. Apparently the old man lived in the middle of nowhere and only came to town once a month for some fresh provisions. Baurus was happy to have him along, to serve as guide and companion. It was better then trying to find his own way in the Molag Amur region , where everything looked alike and the next hill of dust looked exactly like the last, and the one three hills over.

Setting off early the next morning, the Blade found the old man had no trouble keeping up with the pace Baurus set. He was also very talkative; keeping up a constant stream of comments during the entire trip, occasionally asking Baurus about this or that, although, thinking back, Baurus couldn’t really remember the questions. They must have been trivial if he’d forgotten them so soon.

Midday found them looking up at the shapes of Galom Daeus. Baurus turned to the old man,
“Well, I guess we’re here. Thank you for showing me the way. I think I’d better enter alone, though; you never know what might be waiting inside such ruins.”
For some reason the old man giggled at that. “You’re right young master; of course you’re right. But I feel tired, and my legs are killing me, so I think I’ll take a little nap around here before moving on. Good luck inside, and maybe I’ll be here still when you get back. I always like a good story.”

At that the old man lay down, turned around and within seconds was snoring away contentedly.

Baurus smiled at the sight; he hoped he was still moving as well himself when he got to that age. Turning around, he now looked at the entrance to Galom Daeus. It looked menacing, an old Dwemer door leading into what would likely be a nest of vampires. Baurus had made sure to stock enough restore health and cure common disease potions to be ready for most anything, but wondered if it might still prove to be more than he could handle.

Setting aside his doubt, he put his hand on the crank that opened the door and pushed. With a creak the door slowly opened inwards.

[Alexander]

Galom Daeus turned out to be a great disappointment for Baurus. It was deserted. He looked everywhere, and saw signs that people had lived there, but judging by the spider webs and rats scouring the empty halls, he judged no vampire had lived there in many years. When he came to the observatory, he was glad to see everything Vicente had said was true- he saw the Dwemer telescope Vicente had described, and even looked through it to see a marvelous view of the stars in the sky. But there was no Raxle Berne, and no other vampire he could question. Seeing little sense in remaining inside, Baurus walked back out to find the old man sitting up and enjoying some lunch.

“You look disappointed, young master. Didn’t find what you were looking for?”

“No sir, it seems the place has been abandoned for years.”

“Well sure, I could have told you that, if it was the vampires you’re looking for I could have told you they weren’t here anymore. Back during the war a struggle between vampires took place here. One clan won, one lost. All of them moved away.”

“But then do you know what happened to Raxle Berne?”

“No, young master, I’m afraid I don’t, but a friend of mine who lives not far from here might know. We could go and ask her if you’d like?”

“Please, let’s go see her.” The old man got up and started moving east. Baurus followed and soon the old man started chatting away again. Before long, in the distance Baurus noticed another giant Tel; a Telvanni tower. As they got closer Baurus saw a large town was built around it, but probably the most peculiar part of it was that all around the tower, instead of the dusty ground he’d seen so far, there was a lush green land. Entering through a large gate, Baurus barely registered that the Telvanni guards at either side bowed down to greet him, or was it really him they greeted? In the distance he saw a beautiful tree unlike any he’d ever seen before. The old man must have seen him staring because he explained; “That tree is said to have sprung from a seed of a gigantic tree on the continent of Akavir; it is said to represent the physical form of the god Epyon, but no one living has ever seen him.”

Walking through the town, Baurus noticed they seemed to be headed towards the Tel itself, not any smaller house or building. He had assumed it was some servant of the lord they were going to see. He was therefore surprised when they were admitted into the Tel without being questioned by any of the guards standing at the ready both inside and outside. Suddenly it dawned on him that something here was out of place. This was all a bit too easy. He stopped in mid-stride and looked at the old man, who suddenly appeared quite a bit less old. “Wait a moment here, who are you taking me to see? Who are you really?”

Baurus saw the old man stop as well, and then turn around. He smiled at Baurus, a most disarming smile that made him feel more at ease. “I don’t believe I ever told you my name, did I Baurus? I’m called Relien Geles, perchance you’ve heard of me?”

Baurus felt light-headed; of course he’d heard of Relien Geles. Everyone in the Blades had heard of him, everyone who had ever known Varvur Sarethi had heard of the name Relien Geles. Relien Geles, the lord Nerevar incarnate, the Nerevarine, Archmagister of House Telvanni and mastermind behind the victory of the Telvanni alliance in the recent war and considered by most members of the Elder Council the single biggest reason why the Empire should never try and retake Morrowind, not until he died anyway, and being a Telvanni lord, that date was likely many millennia away.

“I’m sorry Lord Geles, I did not recognize you; but then Varvur always described you as much younger.”

“Ha ha ha, something you’ll learn soon around us Telvanni Baurus, is that not everything is as it appears.” He hadn’t finished speaking the words when a change came over him. His stooped posture straightened, his white hair turned golden, his beard disappeared and many of the lines that marked his face vanished. Now before Baurus stood the real Relien Geles, of whom he had heard so much already from Varvur.

“My lord, I’m afraid I have terrible news.”

“I know Baurus, during our trip you already filled me in on it, which is why you didn’t really explore Galom Daeus, only an illusion of it. Had you gone into the real Dwemer fortress, I don’t think even with your skills you would have been able to get out in one piece. Come Baurus, please follow me. We’re going to see my friend Reynel Uvirith; we need to have a talk with her before we can move on.”

An illusion? Galom Daeus had been an illusion? The feel of the walls, the heat from the lava, the touch of spider webs on Baurus’ skin, the view through the telescope... Baurus found himself in awe. If this man could conjure up something like that, seemingly at the snap of his fingers, he was glad Lord Geles appeared to want to help him, and also completely understood the Elder Council’s hesitance to move into Morrowind with him still alive.

“Please, lead the way, Lord Geles.”

“I will, but only if you promise to call me Relien. I’ve heard about you from Varvur, and anyone that close to Varvur doesn’t have to call me lord.” Baurus might have blushed at that had he not been a Redguard.

Moving through the Tel, Baurus soon found himself a large hall giving access to the upper parts of the tower. He saw a beautiful Dunmer woman float down from one of the upper sections, land before Relien and give him a kiss. “Hello Relien. I see you’ve brought a guest.”

Baurus assumed she was Reynel Uvirith, the friend Relien spoke about. Though he was hesitant to speak out for fear of being seen as presumptuous.

“Yes Reynel, this is Baurus, the friend of Varvur I’ve told you about.”

“Hello Baurus, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“My lady.” Baurus replied.

“Relien, your arrival is most timely. I’ve just received a communication from Mournhold. Lady Barenziah has asked you to come see her. Apparently a small delegation from Cyrodiil has made its way to Mournhold asking her for an audience. She wishes for you to be there when she grants it.”

“Hm, I see.” Turning towards Baurus, the Archmagister spoke; “Baurus, I’m afraid I have to travel to Mournhold for a bit. I’d like to ask you to remain here. I’m sure Reynel can make sure you have suitable quarters. I won’t be gone long, no more than a day or two I assume, and it will give me a chance to discuss what we know so far of Varvur with Lady Barenziah. Then when I get back, I’ll likely know more, and we’ll consider your next steps.”

Seeing little choice, Baurus agreed. A Telvanni guard was called who showed Baurus to his room, a large suite on the ground floor of the Tel. Baurus was happy for that. Few people knew it, but though Baurus was one of the best Redguards with a blade, he was also one of few who didn’t take kindly to heights.

[Burnt Sierra]

Wha??!!

My computer breaks down, I'm offline for a few weeks...and this is when you start posting??!!

Gah!!

Looks like I have a lot of reading to do A.S.A.P.

[Alexander]

Wha??!!

My computer breaks down, I'm offline for a few weeks...and this is when you start posting??!!

Gah!!

Looks like I have a lot of reading to do A.S.A.P.

Good timing neh?

[Alexander]

Chapter 10 An unlikely meeting.

Lady Barenziah was nearing the end of her patience. Ambassador Moven had been wearing at her patience since arriving half a year before. He kept submitting the same proposal over and over again. To be sure, each time he submitted it, it was worded differently, clauses had been intermingled, sometimes entire parts had been rewritten, but in the end it was still the same piece.

Looking up Lady Barenziah saw Ambassador Moven was still droning on; he had the uncanny ability to speak for hours on end, without ever tiring, either physically or of his own voice. Looking to her right, she saw the seated form of Divayth Fyr resting comfortably in his seat. He was slowly breathing in and out and to all appearances, had been lulled to sleep by Ambassador Moven’s endless droning. Barenziah knew better though; there was nothing Divayth missed, no matter how long a boring person had been droning on.

Resigning herself to at least another hour of this, Barenziah sat back in her chair and hoped time would somehow be sped up. If she had known she would have to listen to people as boring as Ambassador Moven, she might never have become ruler of Morrowind, well at least ruler in name.

A knock on the door caught her attention, followed by a familiar figure entering the throne room. Barenziah knew who it was before she saw his face. There was but one person who entered the throne room without leave from her, and without setting off Divayth Fyr’s alarms; Lord Nerevar. Even though she knew him as well as a family member by now, she could never get used to calling him Relien. As a Dunmer, it was always a thrill for her, seeing lord Nerevar alive and well, if in a different body, standing before her.

As always, she made a bow from the waist, honoring him. He might have seen fit to persuade everyone that the proper ruler of Morrowind should be Lady Barenziah, but she definitely had a different view on that. “Lord Nerevar, welcome, and thank you for coming.”

“The honor is mine, Lady Barenziah,” was the reply, followed by a bow of his own. “Hehe, when are we going to cease this formality, Barenziah?” He said with a smile.

Barenziah smiled back and replied; “Likely when Azura starts coming to our meetings, then we can both defer to her.”

“Hahaha, well spoken Barenziah. Well spoken. I believe...” A cough behind Barenziah interrupted what he was about to say.

“Ah, erhm Lady Barenziah, my apologies for disturbing, but I believe there is still a proposition on the table.” Annoyed, Lady Barenziah turned around to face Ambassador Moven, “No Moven, the matter is off the table.”

“Ah, but if I may point out, milady...”

“No you may not, Ambassador; for weeks now you’ve been in here nearly every day, and every time with a so-called new proposal. I rejected the previous ones, reject this one and will reject the following ones. You wish for me to make House Indoril whole again with the stroke of my pen, and I will not. As far as I’m concerned Gahprovihn Drules is still the undisputed leader of House Indoril, and if and when he accepts you and the rest of your kin back into his House is his choice. I will not take any side in the matter.”

Looking like he’d just been struck, the ambassador for once seemed speechless. He stiffly bowed, turned around and left the throne room.

Turning back to Lord Nerevar, she noticed he was failing miserably at stifling a laugh. “Well done, Barenziah, though not entirely tactful, was it?”

“I’d say he had it coming though, Relien.” Turning around, both Relien and Barenziah smiled at the words of Divayth Fyr.

“Good to see you again Divayth.”

“Likewise Relien”

“Now, Barenziah, I understand there was something you wanted to discuss.”

“Yes, yesterday a small caravan came here from Cyrodiil. I first assumed it was a caravan similar to ones we always get, but then late yesterday evening I received a message from one of the Blades operatives inside this palace. That by itself was unusual; a spy exposing himself for the sole purpose of delivering a message. But the contents of the message were even more unexpected; it identified two ranking members of the Blades, including their grandmaster, as traders of the caravan and asked us for a private audience. With everything that’s been going on in Cyrodiil in recent years, I thought it best to ask you to be there.”

“Thank you, Barenziah, I’m as curious as you are to find out the reason behind this. While I’m here though, I’d like to ask your opinion on something else. Perhaps we can have a seat and a drink while we discuss it; I’m afraid it’s quite a story.”

After Lord Nerevar had told Divayth and Barenziah everything Baurus had told him, they sat for a moment in silence, all thinking over where to go from there. It was Divayth who spoke first; “While this may be too obvious, have you tried visiting Oblivion yourself yet?”

“Yes, I remember your lessons Divayth, those doors leading into Oblivion though, have been shut alongside the other ones we knew.”

“Hm, this is a problem then.”

“Have you considered taking the matter before Lady Azura?” Barenziah interjected, “Who better to offer a solution to this, then a Daedra prince?”

For a moment Lord Nerevar just looked at her, then he said with a smile and a wink, “I could kiss you, if I didn’t know Reynel would become jealous.” For some reason that made Barenziah feel very warm inside.

“Now then, now that we’ve helped you find an answer to your problem Lord Nerevar, will you help us find an answer to ours? Let’s ask these emissaries into the palace and see what they want shall we?”

After seeing both Lord Nerevar and Divayth nod, she sent a servant to locate the Blades and ask them into the palace.

Choosing the throne room for what might be the first formal meeting since the informal secession of Morrowind from the Empire, Barenziah watched as the three emissaries entered the room. Lord Nerevar whispered the names into her ear, “The one on the left is Captain Steffan, usually charged with command over Cloud Ruler Temple, what passes as the Blades headquarters in Cyrodiil. The one on the right is Grandmaster Jauffre, the head of the entire Blades organization in Tamriel, and arguably the most well informed man in Cyrodiil.”

The man in the middle was wearing a brown travelers robe, and Barenziah understood from the hesitation that Lord Nerevar was not entirely certain just yet who this was. She sensed a spell emanating from him, after which he chuckled and spoke up.

“Chancellor Ocato, I had no idea you were gracing our province with a visit, else I would have met you at the border.”

The hooded figure lowered his hood and sure enough, there was Chancellor Ocato in the flesh. “Lord Nerevar, I must admit I was not expecting your presence here, either. Greetings to you, Lady Barenziah, Master Fyr.” He nodded to each of them.

Barenziah looked at Lord Nerevar questioningly, but he nodded to her as a signal that as always he deferred to her.

“Chancellor Ocato, on behalf of all of Morrowind, welcome to Mournhold. I trust you find the city to your liking?”

“Yes Lady Barenziah, it is a fair city, and a fair land. And I must say, your new Ghostfence is very impressive.”

“It is isn’t it; Lord Nerevar did a remarkable job constructing it. But I’m sure you haven’t traveled all this way just to chat about the Ghostfence, have you?”

“No milady, I have not. This might sound odd, but I believe I was visited in a dream by the avatar of Talos- an old man who called himself Wulf and who offered me a solution to the current crisis, if I would promise to do something for him in the future.”

At the name of Wulf, Barenziah looked sideways to Lord Nerevar, who nodded, indicating that he caught it too. “And what, pray tell, did Wulf tell you in your dream, Chancellor?”

“He told me there is one more descendant of the Septim bloodline, one even better hidden then Martin, because this one was hidden by Talos himself. Talos told me; ’In naming him, he will know himself.’ Now this might sound odd, but I was told he is masquerading as a Jester in Ebonheart.”

Barenziah and Divayth both looked at Lord Nerevar, waiting for him to speak. Chancellor Ocato caught the look and also looked questioningly at Lord Nerevar.

“There is such a person in Ebonheart. I don’t know his name, nor does anyone else. Everyone simply calls him Jester. Are you sure that’s what Talos said, Chancellor? Because I’ve been around the Jester many times, and I’ve never noticed anything out of the ordinary with him; besides, he’s not very bright, if you know what I mean.”

The Chancellor looked disturbed by that. “Talos can’t expect us to put a token emperor on the throne. Why bother to go through all this when we can never expect him to rule anyway?”

“Knowing Talos as I do, I’m sure there is a good reason for everything, and with him, things are often not as they appear.”

“I would like to ask a favor then from you Lady Barenziah, that we be allowed to travel to Ebonheart and take this Jester with us back to Cyrodiil. If he is to be the next emperor, I understand if you’ll want a steep price in exchange.”

Barenziah didn’t even have to confer with Lord Nerevar to answer that; “Chancellor Ocato, we require nothing in return, well, nearly nothing really. Merely a confirmation of our independence after he ascends the throne, and a non-aggression pact or even an alliance between the Empire and Morrowind would be most welcome as well.”

“So be it Lady Barenziah, if that is what it takes to preserve the rest of the Empire, I reckon we have little choice. I agree on behalf of the Empire.”

“I’m glad of this, Chancellor. I hope this will be a very big step towards eternal peace between our two nations. Now, let’s see if we can’t shorten the trip to Ebonheart somewhat. If you don’t mind leaving the rest of the caravan here, I’m sure I can persuade either of these two men standing next to me to teleport you three to Ebonheart.”

“Actually,” Lord Nerevar started, “if Divayth doesn’t mind, I’ll take you three there myself. I’m fascinated by this latest ploy of Talos’.”

“Before we go Lord Nerevar, I’d like to have a moment to send a messenger by fast horse to Cyrodiil. He can send word to my retainer for an escort to meet us shortly after we cross back into Cyrodiil. Safety at that point will be most important.”