Trey in Mournhold, Chapter 8 Options

[minque]

Quick as a thought, I unsheathed the blade, which glittered with its own inner magic as well as the reflected light from the windows. As Torasa Aram’s eyes widened in surprise, I hesitated for only an instant, then acted on the impulse that had moved me. There was no other way.

O_o....now what? Ehhh what´s he gonna do? kill her? threaten her? or what? I know Trey very well by now since I´ve followed him all the way from the stables in High Rock, but I must admit this thing I do not know!

So now 'I´ll be siiting here..put, to wait for the continuation!

[Fuzzy Knight]

Gonna try with the Dagger of Symmachus aye or maybe not? Interesting - keep up the good work Trey, I'll be waiting

This post has been edited by Fuzzy Knight: Dec 10 2006, 08:06 PM

[jack cloudy]

Oh, trading? That might work, seeing as how that dagger belonged to a king. Then again, it is not made by an Aedra or a Daedra so it might not be all that good.

And Wraithguard, please don't even try to suggest that Trey should go find Chrysamere and then give it to that museum. A certain Chrysamere fanboy here would never even dream of parting with it. It is like a part of my soul.

And as a final note, what's up with this super-unique museum? Really, it is no surprise that they have nothing to display. Then again, it seems that every simple adventurer trips over unique stuff all over the place. Maybe the museum owner just needs to get outside more. After the Ash storm is gone.

[mplantinga]

I'm a little concerned about this spur-of-the-moment idea that occurred to Trey while in possession of the Bipolar Blade. It would seem that nothing good could come from this, but I sincerely hope that I am wrong. Trey has always been so conscientious about where, when, and whom he kills, and I hope that even this blade cannot overcome his great strength of character.

[Black Hand]

Should I say that his impulse was to donate the Dagger, and that Torasa Aram's reaction was seeing the legendary Dagger of Symmachus' in Trey's hand?

Oh, wait, I just did.....

[Wraithguard]

Oh, trading? That might work, seeing as how that dagger belonged to a king. Then again, it is not made by an Aedra or a Daedra so it might not be all that good.

And Wraithguard, please don't even try to suggest that Trey should go find Chrysamere and then give it to that museum. A certain Chrysamere fanboy here would never even dream of parting with it. It is like a part of my soul.

And as a final note, what's up with this super-unique museum? Really, it is no surprise that they have nothing to display. Then again, it seems that every simple adventurer trips over unique stuff all over the place. Maybe the museum owner just needs to get outside more. After the Ash storm is gone.

ok,um...........how about the spear of bitter mercy then....does anyone use spears
HANDS ANYONE

just dont donate the dagger......PPPPPPLLLLLLLEEEEEEAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSEEEEEEEEEE

or longswords(wait the bipolar blade was a longsword) ok dont donate katanas,specifacally,or hammers, or any sort of marksman weapon.....or armor.......especially heavy armor...............................hell i dont even know what the dagger does...........................................please steal the dagger back please.

what about the ring of surrondings??? i think the timeline fits with the two storylines, and trey doesnt really care for it, right trey.....trey???......................................theres another ring at the dren plantation in that tower shack if you need it, trey doesnt like orval dren anyways right...........i mean he has slaves and he is a hlaalu and he is cammona thats three strikes against him in treys redoran/thieves/abolitonist nature book
dren wont miss it.

This post has been edited by Wraithguard: Dec 13 2006, 03:10 AM

[treydog]

You guys are too smart for me.... Mrs. Treydog said at that time I read the ending that no one would believe Trey would attack Torasa. That's what I get for writing a consistent character.

When I reversed the weapon so that Torasa could see the insignia on the hilt, her eyes widened even further. Astonished, she gasped,

“The ceremonial dagger of General Symmachus? How did you come to possess this? What a local treasure! If you're willing to part with it, I can offer you 10,000 gold for it.”

The gold sounded wonderful, and at another time, I would have accepted it with pleasure. But my need was one that no amount of money would fill, so I simply shook my head and looked pointedly at the dusty Dwemer shield. With some regret, I passed over the dagger and Torasa Aram nodded. As she lovingly examined the artifact of General Symmachus, she spoke dreamily:

“You've been quite a friend to the Museum, Trey. I'll give you the shield. I'm classifying it as a Dwemer Battle Shield. As I said, I'm not sure what to make of it. The spike attached to the front of the shield seems to be loose, but a competent smith can probably take care of that for you. Good luck to you, and if you're able to recreate the Blade of Nerevar, I'd love to see the finished product.”

With no further word, she seemed to dismiss me from her thinking, bustling off to find a suitable place for her new acquisition. And that was fine with me, for I had plans of my own. I knew just the smith who I wanted to examine the shield with its mysterious “spike.” Of course, considering what had happened to the ebony sword I had acquired from him the last time we met, I was not sure what sort of reception to expect.

As it turned out, I need not have worried- Yagak was actually happy to see me. He clapped me on the shoulder with a work-roughened hand, nearly knocking me off my feet. Then he boomed,

“So, Trey! I made a lot of money from you! Everyone who saw that sword wants to commission something- glass, ebony, adamantium, even steel and silver. And giving it to Karrod- that was a stroke of genius! I just wish I had placed a wager on you- the odds were really something. But who could have predicted that you would win? Now, what can I do for you?”

I produced the Dwemer shield and explained my suspicion about the “spike” protruding from the center. Yagak turned the artifact over in his hands and wiggled the mismatched piece thoughtfully. He then laid it on the forge and reached for a pair of tongs, saying,

“Hmmm...an odd construction to be sure. Let me see.... As I thought. These two pieces aren't supposed to be attached. Looks like a regular Dwemer shield with this other piece attached. Hope you didn't pay too much for that shield, friend. It's nothing special as far as I can see. The other piece is interesting, though. Dwemer in origin, but unlike anything I've seen before.”

As he spoke, he grasped the odd bit of metal with the tongs and wrenched it free. He handed me the two separate pieces of Dwemer craft and turned back to his work. As he did so, I rummaged through my gear and pulled out the two pieces- supposedly from Nerevar’s blade- that I had been given by Almalexia and Karrod. Sure enough, the odd bit from the shield was the final piece. A strange sort of madness overtook me then, and I felt as if I was floating free of my body. Great forces were clearly at work here, forces that were too much even for one as stubborn as I to withstand.

I tapped Yagak on the shoulder to get his attention and he turned to me with an exasperated grunt.

“You know, I do have work to do…. I mean, I like you all right for a pink-skinned squishy, but….”

Before he could complete the thought, I indicated the fragments and asked,

“These are supposed to be the pieces of Nerevar’s blade. Could you make them into a sword again?”

He rubbed his chin and studied the fractured metal, then said,

“I can make any blade you want. Don't care whose it was to start with, or who this Nerevar is. Give me the pieces, and I'll put it together better than it was before. To work with that kind of material, I'll work for free. You've got some interesting pieces there. I can work with this. Make the best blade you've ever seen...not that I figure you'd know a daikatana from a butter knife. Come back in two days' time, and I'll have your blade. Now leave me alone.”

With that, he took the parts of the blade and laid them in the forge. Still wrapped in that dream-like state, I wandered out of the Craftsmen’s Hall.

The next two days passed in that dreamy haze- I remember only bits and pieces. I spent a fair amount of time at the Winged Guar, eating but avoiding strong drink; other times, Karrod tutored me in the finer points of swordsmanship. I was grateful for the lessons- even in my distracted condition, I seemed to sense a dark cloud on the horizon. Though I felt powerless to control my destination, I would at least have something to say about what happened when I got there. And then the morning dawned on the third day and I went once more to see an Orc about a sword.

Somehow, the work on Trueflame seemed to have caused Yagak to revert to his Orcish roots- maybe it was singing the Orc song that did it. In any event, he grunted at me and poked the hilt of the blade into my mid-section, saying,

“I made your blade for you. Damn good work, too! Now leave me alone. Here's your blade. And before you ask, I don't know why it doesn't burn. I'm a smith, not an enchanter. You want Dwemer enchantments on this thing, talk to a Dwemer.”

The completed sword was as odd as I had expected- a broad, curved blade, rather like what a pirate cutlass might be when it grew up, flanked by pointed guards that could trap an opponent’s blade. Visually, it seemed as if it would be awkward to wield, yet it fit well in my hand and was wonderfully balanced. Despite its size, it could easily be used with one hand- which I appreciated, as I preferred to have a shield in my off hand. Regardless of whose blade it had been or anything that Almalexia might say, I felt no great affinity to the sword; no new voices sounded in my head when I handled it- it was simply an antique weapon.

Finally, the rest of Yagaks’ words registered- the ones about the sword not “burning.” And that recalled Almalexia’s admonition that she wished to see Trueflame and Hopesfire “burning together once more.” Without even going to the Temple, I knew that the goddess would not be satisfied with the sword as it was- she would insist on seeing Trueflame burning. And that apparently meant finding a Dwemer enchanter. Of course the Dwemer had mysteriously vanished thousands of years ago, but that hardly seemed an insurmountable obstacle after everything else I had gone through. I was a bit annoyed at Yagak though. After all, he had been going on about how much money I had made for him and now he was grumping and grunting and generally being a pain. In my irritation, I blurted out,

“Find a Dwemer enchanter? And just how do you propose I do that? By singing an Orc song, perhaps?”

It is never a good idea to antagonize an Orc, especially not an Orc who has a large hammer in his hand, which hammer he uses to shape resistant metals day in and day out. Yagak turned very slowly to face me, and his eyes burned hot as the forge fires where he worked. He drew back the hammer and brought it down upon the anvil with a crash that shook the building. Then he started to laugh.

“You need to lighten up, Trey. You keep going the way you are and you’ll die of apoplexy before you make 40. I know, I know. The Dwemer are all dead. But look...I've heard rumors of a powerful Dwemer mystic, Radac Stungnthumz, that lived in Bamz-Amschend. He's long gone, but maybe some of his writings still exist. If you can find any of them, I'll see what I can do for you.”

[The Metal Mallet]

Excellent rendition of the donation of the dagger, I figured that would happen . Now Trey is forced to travel back to a place he wasn't particularly fond of wandering in, hopefully the situation goes a bit better this time.

[canis216]

Trey will need to be more careful with explosives this time around...

[jack cloudy]

Trey's action with the dagger didn't surprise me, the Orc's action with the hammer did. Really, you managed to make me think Trey was going to receive a headache. Congratulations!

Bah, who needs explosives? Oversized fireballs work just fine.

[minque]

Ahhhh another magnificent update!
My quote for the day:

“Find a Dwemer enchanter? And just how do you propose I do that? By singing an Orc song, perhaps?”

I so like Trey´s wonderful sense of humor, his cool ways of dealing with whatever comes in his way.....A great inspiration to all us writers and those who haven´t started writing yet!

[treydog]

Yagak’s suggestion that I look for the answer in Radac’s books actually made sense- especially because I had carried every Dwemer text I could find back from Bamz-Amschend. It would be a rare pleasure to find the answer I sought between the covers of a book instead of in a musty ruin filled with creatures that wanted to harm me. With a lightness that had long been absent from my step, I returned to my basement hideaway and pored over all the Dwemer technical manuals I had so carefully hoarded. Besides the book on explosives, I found information on cogs, on pipes, and on general machine maintenance. What I did not find was any mention of weapons or alchemy. Even though I believed I had thoroughly explored Radac’s Forge, perhaps I had missed something. After all, it was a dark and eerie place, and my mission had been to find out about the fabricants. A quick foray in search of the missing book or books should be no problem at all…. Right. The Legion has a famous saying to the effect that, “When the patrol seems to be going exceptionally well, it means you have walked into an ambush.”

Because I expected my return to the Dwemer ruin to be relatively simple, I did not make my usual extensive preparations. I armed myself with the sketches I had made of the passages so that I could go directly to the forge, and also carried the reforged blade with me because I was afraid to leave it lying around. Once I had climbed down the ladder from the Plaza, I was greeted with the assorted clanks, groans, and hisses that inhabited every Dwemer ruin I had ever entered. It seemed normal and natural for Bamz-Amschend, so I did not consider what other sounds all that mechanical racket might conceal. The large entry hall was still empty, save for the bodies of the fabricants and the smashed metal of their opponents. Thus, I made no attempt at stealth or concealment as I opened the door that would take me into the area where the forge rested. The Dwemer dart that thumped into my shield was therefore a very great surprise. I had wondered what mysterious purpose was behind the great Dwemer engines that still ran long after their builders had disappeared. It appeared that at least one answer was to build and repair the guardian machines that patrolled the ruins. I discovered to my chagrin that hallways I had believed safe were once again haunted by mindless constructs which found my living presence objectionable. Without giving a detailed description of every skirmish, suffice it to say I was able to thoroughly test the qualities of my new Dwemer sword before I finally reached the forge. And what I found there was an even greater shock than had been the resurrected centurions.

A phantasmal shape stood in the center of the room, staring abstractedly at the giant, half-completed warrior machine that occupied one corner. Although the figure acknowledged my presence with a brief glance, it made no move to attack. I studied the ghostly presence and realized that it closely resembled the figures depicted in the panels scattered through the ruin. The ears and eyes were definitely elven, but the thick, stiff beard and long robes were unlike anything worn by the elves I knew. Just as I realized that I was looking upon the ghost of a long-dead Dwemer, the specter turned a piercing glare in my direction and grumbled,

“What’re you doing down here? Leave an old spirit to his haunts.”

The fact that he spoke at all was not nearly so surprising as the fact that I could understand him. He spoke in Aldmeris, with some odd inflections, but still quite recognizable. Since he did not seem overtly hostile, I decided that the truth would serve my needs and said,

“I seek the writings of the Dwemer mystic, Radac. I wish to find a way to cause this sword to burn again.”

The specter gave a dusty laugh and replied,

“You want to talk to a Dwemer mystic? Ha! Look, I'm no mystic. Wasn't when I was alive, either. I'm a soldier, kid, plain and simple. Sure, I made weapons for my troops. No secret there. I'm no mystic, though. But you say you want to add fire to that blade?”

This then, was the spirit of Radac himself. Considering that this forge would have held great meaning for him when he lived, that made sense. Gathering my wits, I eagerly repeated my desire to see the blade enchanted with fire. With a shrug, the ghost responded,

“Well, if that's all you want to do...! You don't need a mystic, whelp. I can take care of that for you. We'll need some Pyroil Tar, though. Used to have some around here...but that was a long time ago. You can find it in the lower caves of Norenen-dur, in the Citadel of Myn Dhrur. It's an old ruin far beneath Bamz-Amschend. I swear, no one is happy with a simple blade that cleaves bone...always need the special effects.”

Unsure if I had heard correctly, I queried,

“Myn Dhrur…?”

Radac gestured impatiently and said,

“Deep, deep caves. An old Daedric ruin. Fool Dunmer...worshipping those beasts. I say kill 'em all! Used to be a good spot for all sorts of resources, though. Of course, that was when there were any of us left who needed them! You can find the place through a cave-in at the Passage of the Walker. Take care down there, youngster. No telling what you may run into. You might discover a new way to die. That'd be something, at least. You should be able to find some Pyroil Tar, though. Bring that back to me.”

As it happened, during my search for the Weather Witch, I had already explored the Daedric ruin and been attacked by a fairly powerful Dremora. Among its effects was an ancient bottle containing a peculiar sticky substance that I could not identify. As I did with anything alchemical, I had kept the bottle in the hope that I might be able to divine its properties eventually. Of course, circumstances had prevented that closer study, but the bottle was still taking up space in my pack. After a few minutes of digging, I found it and held it out hesitantly. Radac rubbed his ghostly hands together and chortled,

“Ah...that's the stuff.”

He then took the Pyroil Tar and the sword from me and carefully coated the blade, saying,

“Here, I'll do this. There. There's your sword. Not a bad looking blade, actually. Good luck to you, youngster. Now leave this old dwarf alone. Go!”

As he handed the sword back to me, I could see that it burned with a bright yellow fire. Even though I had completed my task, I was curious about the strange tar and ventured to ask how it had been produced. Apparently, Radac did not have much patience for questions, or perhaps he did not know the answer and was embarrassed to admit it. Whatever the reason, he scowled at me and shouted,

“I've used the tar on the blade, you moron! What do they teach you kids nowadays??? See if you can follow these instructions: Turn around. Place left foot forward. Place right foot forward. Now repeat these steps until you're out of my damn sight!”

With that he floated off to another part of the ruin, leaving me alone in the forge.

So now Trueflame burned again, thanks to Radac’s Dwemer alchemy. And that was all well and good except for one thing- how did I get it to stop burning? Because of the blade’s peculiar shape, I did not have a scabbard that would fit it, and anyway, I wondered if it wouldn’t simply burn through a traditional leather and wood sheath. For the same reason, I didn’t particularly want to just shove the blasted sword in my trousers. This was the sort of thing the adventure stories always conveniently left out. Pursuing Radac to ask for advice did not strike me as likely to be terribly productive, so I would just have to think of something else. On the plus side, I was in a Dwemer forge, which was full of odd bits and pieces of Dwemer metal. After an hour or so, I had put together a makeshift construction from a couple of flat pieces of metal wrapped with strips of leather. It was ugly and also as heavy as Nirn, but it should have good insulating properties- I hoped. I carefully strapped the thing on my back, with the hilt of the sword sticking up over my left shoulder. I had no intention of going into a fight thus encumbered- if I tried to draw the bloody sword from that position I would probably cut off my own fool head. Of course, I wasn’t sure that it would be any great loss if I did. Especially because the next step was to go visit the insane goddess Almalexia and give her the good news that Trueflame had been made anew. I had a gloomy feeling that her response would not bode well for my peace of mind …or my prospects for a long and happy life.

Here Ends Chapter 8

[jack cloudy]

Heh, that Dwemer was so funny! I also loved your problem with sheathing the sword. Hmm, reminds me of what I had planned to do with Forgeheart. Yup, swords with elemental Magicka can be one pain in the behind to store.

Though I also have to admit that the solution to the burning as surprisingly mundane. Won't the tar burn up or something?

[canis216]

The tar is magically everlasting... duh. I can't wait for Chapter 9... but it'll be the last one!

[The Metal Mallet]

Nice conclusion to chapter 8 Trey. It was a wonderful read. I almost have the feeling chapter 9 might be the last one, as there isn't much left to do. But I guess we'll see...

[minque]

A worthy ending of an amazing chapter....and what does it do to you? Ah yes it makes you want MORE!!!!

Let´s wait impatiently for the continuation.....oh my.....I want to learn more .....oh yes I do

[mplantinga]

It is good to see that Trey's pack-rat habits have come in handy and saved him another trip into the Daedric ruins. I particularly enjoyed the character you gave to Radac; I found him quite amusing even though I'm sure he intended no such amusement. I guess after you've been dead for a thousand years you're allowed to be a bit grumpy.

[McBadgere]

Pah!!...Using the shifting of this thread up to the top as an excuse to praise Chapter 7?!! Foolish man, you go to prisonnn!!...

Fair dues, the ash storm is a bit of a shocker...Espescially having ambled around the blighted Solstheim...I can imagine it was a bit hideous to play through an actual storm of it...

Alamaxeia...Or...Something close to that which my brain refuses to hold on to...Is proper nuts!...So this is how he becomes the Nerevar then?...Oh, right...Fair enough... ...I so want to read the Morrowind plot on Wikipedia, but it's far more fun to go through it all here... ...

This doesn't sound like it's Trey's wife though somehow... ...

Proper excellent story...Loving it hugely...In a retroactive stylee...*Pulls some eighties-esque shapes*...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

This post has been edited by McBadgere: Sep 17 2013, 06:04 AM

[treydog]

Hmm. Well- and remember it has been a LOONG time since I wrote it- and I have slept since then.... If I recall, Trey's attitude toward Alma is (and continues to be) that she is nuttier than a pecan orchard- as well as manipulative. So- regardless of whether she says or even believes him to be Nerevar reborn- Trey mostly chalks that up to her dementia.

Except for occasionally feeling like there is someone else living inside his head- and all the prophecies- and etc.

As to his eventual acceptance of himself as Nerevarine, even with Trueflame- it takes a while longer- and is in the "main story."

And no, Alma is definitely NOT his wife. (Shudders).

Oh- and one more word about Trueflame. Besides the whole "burning all the time problem," the blade itself is in the shape of a scimitar (more or less) with a couple of guards that curve in the opposite direction. Which is why Trey complained about finding a way to sheathe it.

Anyhow- many thanks for reading and remarking upon this one. Your comments have caused me to go back and look at some of the parts again- which has been rather pleasant.

[McBadgere]

Fair dues...Just got to the bit at the end of the duel with the Redguard and Trey's got the two pieces of Trueflame...

Absolutely loved the duel, the character of Karrod, and Trey's not-quite-sporting-but-I'll-forgive-him levelling of the playingfield...

Proper amazing writing...I'm glad of two things...First, that I decided to finally embark on one of the epics... ...And second, that you're enjoying going back to it also...

Excellent stuff!!...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...