Oasis 2, Free from Destiny. Options

[jack cloudy]

Here is the link to: Jack Cloudy's Other Stories


Ok, I've got to be crazy. Starting a third one before finishing the last two? Yeah, definitely crazy. More crazy than Tarhiel, Curio and M'Aiq combined. Ah well, I guess I can't be stopped. (Note to self: Make an Agent update tonight.)





Oasis 2: Free from Destiny.

The task I’d been sent to do had been finished. No, I hadn’t just been sent to do this, I’d been made for it in a quite literal way. Yes, that task was the only reason for my existence. Now that I’d completed it, what was left?

Anyone in my position would probably try to retire and live the remainder of his or her life at peace, preferably with the comfort of nearby friends. I had friends and I could retire easily enough. During the course of my life, I’d amassed a large amount of wealth, including a house big enough to accommodate a whole village. In fact, my house was a village. Then why did I leave? Why was I walking here at this moment, so far away from civilization?

The truth was, I couldn’t. I hadn’t realized at the time, but the reason why I fought was because my friends needed me as much as I needed them. I’d fought to protect them, to keep them near. Yet what should have been my moment of everlasting glory was my moment of defeat. I could no longer see those I considered friends. It would undo everything I’d done.

The sun began to sunk beneath the horizon and I sat down next to the nearest shrub. A small wisp of fire, and I had created a small circle of light to keep me company. The fire was bad company if it was the soul that required comfort instead of the body. Nothing opposed my train of thought. I relived the last moment, the moment it all became clear.

I stood on the slopes of a mountain. Beneath me, several tents had been placed in the ashcovered ground. People milled about like ants. Banners flapped in the gentle breeze. A smile crept across my face. These were the people of Vvardenfell, my people. Most were unknown faces to me but that didn’t matter. In the end, they were all a part of the island. And I would be their hero. Society had been at the brink of collapse but now, everything would be fine. The Houses had united, the Ashlanders received the respect they deserved. The time of politics and struggles for power had ended. There was nothing left to fight over. And I would be right in the middle of it all, basking in glory, everyone would call me their greatest hero. Like a child’s dream come true.

The smile vanished. It would not be fine. There was still something for them to fight over. Ironic as it might seem, that something was me. To win the favour of the land’s champion, the Houses would return to their internal strife, bloodier than before. Those around me would be the victim of it all, as they would be pulled into this conflict. Politics was a plague, hard to control. There was only one thing I could do to prevent this from happening. I would have to leave, vanish into myth.

And leave I did. I never even took the chance to properly say goodbye. I couldn’t say goodbye. If I tried, I would end up staying and make my nightmare into reality. It was a bit of an anti-climax. Whenever I thought about what would come after defeating my enemy, the only things I saw were scenes of fame, glory and perhaps even a bit of worship. I couldn’t let any of that happen though. It would be as destructive as having let him have his way.

Perhaps this is how the guy who killed Jagar Tharn felt after he’d claimed victory in the Imperial palace. He too left right after his greatest moment. To this very day, no one knows his name, or his race, or even his gender. I say guy, but it could have been a woman for all I know. I’ve heard a few stories, but they’re quite conflicting. Some talk about a Redguard pirate, some about an Imperial Battlemage much like Tharn himself, yet others about a scarred Orc or your stereotypical knight in shining armour. Then there are those who take it into the extremes, saying that this nameless champion was none other than Tiber Septim himself or Akatosh or a spirit of death or even a Goblin, though I seriously consider that last one a joke. Well I knew one thing for certain, Akatosh was not involved there. Because Akatosh, that’s me.

Whatever is the case, the champion vanished and I was about to follow his or her example. Where would I go? If I had taken the time to think, I would have concluded that leaving Tamriel entirely would have been best. The legendary continent of Akavir would be a great place for a fallen hero to hide. But I decided otherwise. Instead of going east to Akavir, I would go west, to the place where I was born, all the way on the other side of Tamriel. Despite my achievements, which happened to include the killing of a supposedly immortal being, my fame was still only local.

Hammerfell would be the perfect place to make a living. There, no one would care about Luper Alkad, Nerevarine, the godslayer. There I would be just another Redguard, albeit one who was in possession of several unique artefacts. Yes, Hammerfell would be perfect. But how to get there? Vvardenfell had been saved of the Blight, a horrible disease that turned everything it touched into a raving monster. There was the Corprus which was even worse but likewise, its threat had ended. Despite that, the island was still strictly quarantined. No one could enter or leave, at least not through legal channels.

I knew that there were plenty of smugglers and pirates. I could try to make contact with them, see if they were willing to transport me. While the idea appealed to me at first, I soon changed my mind. So far, the smugglers I met here were a lot more aggressive than the bunch that had raised me. I was unlikely to get a single word out of my mouth before I was parrying daggers, clubs and whatever they were using to kill people. No smugglers wouldn’t help.

I went through a few more ideas. I was too well-known among the mages and the independent ones were usually Necromancers who would rather have me as their next test subject than give me a quick teleport to the mainland. Buying, building or stealing a ship wouldn’t work. For one thing, ships weren’t for sale here and I would be hunted by the coast guard. Waterwalking might work, but I had no real idea of just how far it was to the mainland. It would be rather embarrassing to run out of Magicka and get devoured by Slaughterfish and Dreugh. In the end, I knew of only one organization that could give me a quick and secret way to the mainland. The Blades, the spy service of the Emperor himself.

I waited till dawn before continuing my trip across the island. I took my time because this would likely be the last time I would see Vvardenfell, the island that had become my home. There was a silent beauty in the Ashlands, now that the dreaded storms which plagued this region had fled. The transition from dry ash to a swamp teeming with life was quite sudden, only a single mountainous ridge between them. Like everything I saw, it brought back memories. Memories of fighting against slavery, getting my leg cracked by a Mudcrab. It had been less than two years, yet it felt like eternity separated Luper Alkad, the badmouthed prisoner who was all bark and no bite, from Luper Alkad, the badmouthed hero who is even more bite than he is bark.

I walked up to the nearest Mudcrab and placed a single hand underneath its shell. With a simple flip of the wrist, I threw it upside down and sent it sliding down a hill. It was a feat of incredible strength I wouldn’t even dare dream about in those early days. I’d definitely changed, beyond recognition. The everburning flame of the Lighthouse told me I was nearing my destination. Seyda Neen, where my journey began and where now a new journey would begin.

[The Metal Mallet]

Well, I would personally count "Wings of Light" as well among your "works in progress" so this would be the fourth one! Madness! I can't understand how you can run through all these different plots in your head and still make each one so very good! I am envious!

Anyways, I have to say that this beginning is fantastic! Good to see ole Luper back in action after a relatively brief hiatus. I can't wait to see the (mis)adventures he'll get into. I'm looking forward to this one!

[Black Hand]

A while ago Jack you gave me the Planty award of Post Machineiness or soemthing like that, I now present it back to you with a shocked expression on my face. Very nice work here! Now we see Luper Alkad yet again once more.

[jack cloudy]

*Takes the reward and puts it on a rack, mumbling something about copying inanimate objects.*

Thanks, Black Hand. You'll always be the post machine though, even now that you've taken a well earned break.

Mallet, at the moment I'm not writing at Wings of Light. Instead, I'm trying to draw a picture of a main character I'm going to include in the next chapter. Its damn hard. If only I was as much a drawer as a writer.

Corrupted Heart is on a temporary hiatus as well while I figure out how the scene with the blind monks plays out. Till then, enjoy some more good old Luper. He's surprisingly calm I must say. I guess the lack of beasties to fight took all the adrenaline out of his system. I swear, he was like on a constant adrenaline rush while fighting Dagoth Ur's gang.





As I’d changed, so had Seyda Neen. My old home, which I claimed after its last inhabitant tried to kill me and failed, had been demolished and probably used as firewood at the lighthouse. That was the only change I saw but it was an important one. It meant that the marks I’d made here had already vanished. I wondered if anyone had ever wondered what happened to that rude Redguard who’d lived there for a short time. I wondered if they’d ever learned of the Nerevarine and perhaps placed the link. Would anyone here say:,, Luper Alkad? Oh yes, I know him. Lived here a while back, right over there. Never saw a hero in him.”

Probably not and I couldn’t blame them. I strode up to the bridge that gave access to the village, my eyes judging everything that moved and everything that didn’t. I closed them for a while. When I opened them again, they looked straight ahead. There was no longer any need for paranoia. Everyone who wanted me death had passed on or given up. I straightened my back and moved forward at a faster pace, projecting an aura of confidence. Everyone dropped what they were doing to stare at me. It wasn’t my confidence, or just the fact that I was pretty much a stranger here. No, it was most likely my attire, dirty with ash, sweat and blood, most of which was my own. But underneath all that, the distinct glow of a powerful enchantment radiated outward. They’d never seen such a large collection of enchanted items before and when they did, it was usually mounted on a rack as a trophy.

I thought about stopping and telling them to ignore me but I decided against that. It would’ve been a futile request. Was this a form of fame? If so, it wasn’t as pleasant as I’d imagined it would be. I decided to be the one who did the ignoring. The wooden platform creaked under my weight as I went around Arille’s tradehouse to the entrance at the back. Another memory assaulted my weary mind. The mental sight of me pulling at the handle of the front door in vain brought a faint smile to my lips. Looking back at it, it was quite amusing though back then I’d been seriously frustrated with the locked door, only to find out later that I’d been trying to get inside the storeroom rather than the tradehouse itself.

Inside, the familiar smell of rust, half-rotten herbs and painted cotton reached my nose. Behind the old counter stood Arille, looking exactly the same as when I’d last seen him. When the door opened, he looked up with a polite smile on his face.
,,Greetings. Anything I can do for you? Scrolls, potions to regain your strength?” He asked, waving with his arm across the wares he’d put on display. His eyes showed no sign of recognition. I noticed how he’d left his array of weapons and armour out of his list. He was a businessman who knew what his potential customer might and might not buy. Any weapon or piece of armour he sold was awfully inferior to what I was using right now, even if my equipment was rent and torn in countless places as the result of the war I’d fought in.

I gave him a short nod.
,,Just a drink, Arille. Just a drink.” I replied and walked up the stairs. Arille shrugged and went back to polishing a cup. He received a percentage of any profits made on the drinks so it did not bother him. Coming upstairs, I noticed that my hand had drifted up towards the hilt of the sword on my back. I lowered the hand with an amused chuckle. Instinct had a habit of doing things without asking for permission first. In this case, my instinct had guessed wrong. The man I’d expected to find at the top of the stairs was gone, and so were the other drunkards who inhabited this level of the building. The only person who was left was a darkskinned woman who was making an inventory of her stores.

I sat down on a stool without a word and waited till she looked up. She gave me the same curious look as everyone else did though hers was mixed with a cold calculation. She was assessing me and trying to fit me into her plans.
,,Just a drink, Elone. No business for the Emperor this time.” I told her. If she’d been surprised about this statement, she hid it very well.
,,Any preferences, sir?” She asked, turning towards her rack of beverages.
,,A flin would be fine.”

The liquid was poured into a simple mug and placed before me. I placed my hand around it and was about to lift it to my mouth when I noticed the fellow Redguard frown. With another amused chuckle, I lowered the mug and removed the gauntlet. Before I placed it on the bar next to the mug, I looked at it for a long time. The Dwemer steel was dented in several places and the large plate covering the back of the hand had been unhinged. Yet, in all reality it should have been much worse considering the abuse it had received. Whoever had made this ancient artefact had taken the forging of Dwemer steel to a new level. I flexed my now bare hand, making sure it hadn’t suffered from its long time inside the gauntlet. With the same slow and almost ritualistic movements, I removed the pauldrons, my cuirass, my greaves and after a short hesitation, my boots.

Finally, I went back to drinking. Elone was cleaning the tables somewhere behind me.
,,Did you hear anything from Caius?” I asked over my drink. The sound of cleaning stopped and so did any other sound of movement. I frowned, slightly annoyed.
,,If you’re now thinking of poking a dagger in my back and start an interrogation session, don’t bother. I’m with the Blades as well.” I said, emptying my mug. A moment later, I did feel the pressure of a cheap dagger pressing against my back.
,,Anyone can claim to be with the Blades.” Elone whispered, obvious to avoid drawing the attention of Arille downstairs. I grinned and slid my hand into my pocket slowly. The woman’s hand tensed around the dagger but she did not stab me while I brought my hand back up at the counter and dropped something on it that rinkled with a metallic sound. Instantly, the dagger vanished.

,,Luper Alkad, you could’ve just told me it was you.” Elone scolded me. I shrugged and put the ring back in my pocket.
,,I wanted to see if you could still recognize me. Don’t take it personal.” I answered and took a second bottle of flin out of the rack without asking. I also brought out a second mug.
,,Care to join me?”

A few minutes later, we’d moved to a table and started a simple meal together with the drinks.
,,No, I haven’t heard anything from him. I hadn’t expected to hear anything either. The Blades can be quite secretive. Giving old colleagues a report on his whereabouts would be a waste of resources, especially with this blockade sitting just outside the coast.” She told me. I frowned, taking a bit out of my bread. I’d taken a liking to the old man. After he had been recalled to the mainland, I’d been too busy with fighting Dagoth Ur to worry about him. Now though, I had all the time in the world to worry.
,,Damn. He told me that he was in trouble because of the moonsugar he took as part of his cover. I’d hoped his punishment would be light and that he would be back in no time. Silly of course. He would be useless now as his sudden disappearance and reappearance would raise unwanted questions.” I muttered.
,,I know. I’m worried about him as well. But I can’t just leave. Even with Dagoth Ur death, we still have plenty of things to do. So what are you going to do now, Luper?”

I took a moment of silence before answering.
,,If I stay here, I’ll become the heart of a new political struggle that would make the people I care about suffer. I’m leaving, somehow. I want to go to Hammerfell and find out about the rest of my family, or at least the family of the people who raised me. I need to get off the island, even if I have to walk all the way. Do you know off a way out, Elone?” I looked up from my meal, awaiting an answer. Instead of giving an answer or thinking over my question, Elone was looking at something behind me, eyes wide open. It looked as if someone was still willing and brave enough to kill me. And I’d just ditched all the stuff that made me a walking fort. This was just great, and familiar.

[The Metal Mallet]

Hmmm, taking a wild guess here. I'm going to say that this'll be a Dark Brotherhood agent, or possibly a Commona Tong thug maybe. Heck, I could be totally wrong here, but meh.

Nice build up going on here Jack. And I totally understand why you would take a break from some of your other works if you need time to formulate them (especially Wings of Light, since I know you plan to make that your large, important piece). Continue please!

[jack cloudy]

I didn’t move, instead watching Elone intensely. When her eyes widened even further, I knew it was my time to move. I dove for the floor, knocking the chair I’d been seated on into the air with a free hand. Something hit the wood while something else grazed past my arm. The wound was a minor one, but it burned as if on fire which could mean only one thing, poison. I rolled onto my back where I got my first glimpse of my attacker. All black, he was covered into a suit of armour blacker than the night that obscured all of his features. Even his weapons, a pair of Wakizashis, had been painted black. If intimidation was part of his arsenal, he knew how to use it. Unfortunately for him, there was little left that could intimidate me after Red Mountain. He was obviously an assassin which had me draw the link instantly. The Morag Tong had a writ on me. The political game had already begun.

For a moment, the man recoiled from the chair that had flown past him till it hit the ceiling with a deafening crack of splintering wood. Part of me noted how my strength had increased tremendously without the weight of my armour while the other focussed on tackling my foe, my style. The Wakizashis arced downward, crossing at my neck, only to stop just before touching my skin. I stared into the blackened glass covering the eyes and listened to his heavy breathing as he tried to push through the invisible barrier.
,,That’s telekinesis for you. It’s possibilities are endless.” I grinned and punched him in the chest, hard.

With the gutwrenching sound of ribs snapping and piercing the lungs, he flew backwards till he crashed into a wall and dropped to the floor, bits of said wall coming down with him. Yet despite the lethal wounds, he still staggered back onto his feet. His hands hung powerless at his sides, his knees wobbled. Though I could not see his eyes behind the mask, I knew what they portrayed. Fear and disbelief at me still standing despite the poison, not to mention the display of inhuman strength I’d just used to pummel him. It was all due to my partially cured corprus, which protected me from aging, disease and poison while also having the added benefit of strengthening my muscles without any increase in mass.

I crossed my arms in front of my chest and looked at him as stern as I could, a facial expression I wasn’t used to.
,,I can heal your wounds with the flick of a wrist, Morag Tong. I just want to know one thing. Give me the name of the dirty Scamp who paid for that writ.” I sneered and waited for an answer. Some blood dripped down from under his mask and he coughed a bit. Then, he found a sudden well of strength and leaped through a nearby window. Elone and I ran up to the window and looked down to see him lying on the muddy ground outside, his neck twisted in such a way it had to be broken.

,,Dark Elves and their honour, it’s ridiculous. If giving up my honour is the price to pay for staying alive, I know what to do.” I muttered to myself when a golden face poked up from below the stairs.
,,I’m terribly sorry, sir. I was paralyzed by some form of spell.” Arille said apologetically though his face became angry when he noticed the damage I’d caused to the wall when I slammed the assassin into it. I took a look at the damage myself and grinned.
,,Ah, I’d pay if I had any money on me but I don’t, so you’ll have to count yourself satisfied with that guy’s blades. I bet they’re of high quality.”

I took my sword with me when I walked outside. If that assassin had any backup hiding nearby, I would prefer to face them with steel rather than my bare fists. It turned out to be an unnecessary precaution in the end.

The first thing I did once I’d reached the corpse was to remove the blood-soaked mask and take a look at the face underneath. As I’d already guessed, the face was that of a Dark Elf, though I didn’t recognize him. The guess wasn’t such a hard one, half the population was Dark Elf here. Apart from taking the mask, I left him where he was. Maybe Arille would want to take the armour to sell but I had no intention of taking it with me. Sure, it was light and remarkably sturdy, but it just wasn’t my style and I had nowhere to stash it.

,,And?” Elone asked me expectantly. In the organization of the Blades, I outranked her though this was certainly not because I had years of outstanding service or something. No, it had just been a field promotion Caius had given me before he left so I wouldn’t be slowed down by Imperial politics. If anything, Elone was twice the Blade I was. Still, she looked up to me for advice in this case.
,,Light armour, likes to sneak up from behind, weapons coated in a poison that would have killed me within a heartbeat if it wasn’t for my…….medical situation. This guy is a professional assassin who must’ve been stalking me since I came down from Red Mountain. Must be an amateur though. If he’d been more experienced, he’d have known that his plan would fail.” I concluded and now looked up at her for more information.

Elone stood still, staring at the death assassin’s body for a moment. Then, she shrugged.
,,I don’t recognize him or the armour but since this is Vvardenfell, there are only two possibilities. Either he is an independent assassin hired by an independent person without too much wealth or he is Morag Tong and has been hired by a high ranking House member. Judging by how well-made the armour is and the quality of his weapons, his service couldn’t be cheap so it has to be the latter. Morag Tong.” She said and bent down to feel the black fabric.
,,Do you know anyone who wants you death?” She asked me next.

,,Lots of people. I’m Telvanni, which already means a boatload of enemies not to mention everyone else I insulted in the past. Not many would try though after my little stunt with Dagoth Ur.” I spoke with complete disinterest. There had been a time when I tried to keep track of my enemies but the list grew so long, I just decided not to think about it. Elone stood up from her crouched position and frowned at me.
,,Speaking about insults, I believe you still owe me an apology from the first few days after your arrival here.”

I laughed at that.
,,I already told you, I’m Telvanni. Being rude is in the job description.”
,,You weren’t Telvanni then. I may be a hag who plays by the strings of the Emperor like a little puppet but I’m not stupid.” She continued. I nearly bit my tongue. After a long silence between us, I threw up my hands in defeat.
,,Alright, I apologize. I’m as much a puppet as you are, only an immortal Daedra is playing the strings in my case.”

After the commotion in the village had died down, we could continue our meal.
,,So what are you going to do? You could try to get out of here. I could arrange something with Ergalla for you.” Elone offered. I shook my head over my third mug of flin.
,,No, I’ll wait. Something feels odd about this and I want to investigate. It shouldn’t be that hard. I once met a Morag Tong contact in Vivec for Caius. I think I’m going to look him up and ask a few questions. Find out who’s after me.” I replied and then gave one of my trademark grins.
,,This is my chance for heroics without Azura manipulating events behind the scenes.”

Elone didn’t share my sense of humour.
,,You can’t do much investigating as the Nerevarine. You should try to obscure your identity somehow. You could start by ditching your armour.” She advised me. The idea was instantly rejected. I’d formed a bond with the suit that had saved my life so many times. Besides, getting rid of several unique artefacts was a bit harder than simply walking downstairs and selling them to Arille. She was right though, I would never be able to investigate anything as the Nerevarine and in a high-profile city as Vivec, my trademark armour would be unable to hide my identity. I decided to cover up the cuirass with a brown cloth and sold my pauldrons and greaves. Those were the only generic pieces safe for my boots, which I couldn’t ditch cause I preferred to have something between my feet and the road. Everything else would be impossible to leave anywhere unguarded. But even if my cuirass had been covered up, Wraitguard would be enough to give me away. I threw it into my backpack.

That night, I stood on the back of the Siltstrider as it hurried to Vivec. Once the Foreign quarter appeared on the horizon, I nodded to the Dunmer who stopped the bug and then turned it around to return to Seyda Neen. I’d paid extra for this. While the Siltstrider hurried back to the west, I dropped down to the ground and finished the last stretch of my journey on foot. Once again, I was in Vivec, the only city that had completely failed to give me a single good memory whatsoever. I couldn’t wait to hear the Ordinators call me scum again.

[The Metal Mallet]

Hmm, so they think the assassin is Morag Tong so far, I'm still leaning towards the Brotherhood simply because of the armor description. We'll find out soon I guess.

[jack cloudy]

And they did not disappoint me. The first words I heard, after just two steps past the bridge leading to the foreign canton, were the ones that represented Vivec best.
,,We’re watching you…..scum.” I laughed at that, even more so when the Ordinator got extremely agitated upon seeing my insolence. I ascended the slopes leading up against the canton’s surface before he could figure out what he should do. My plans did not include picking fights with religious bullies.

It was kind of odd, to be in Vivec again. I’d only been here three or four times before, not counting the short hops into local the mage guild hall for when I had to process paperwork. Being Arch-mage did come with a price, the monotone of endless paperwork. I’d found a simple solution towards the problem, one that fit right in with my Telvanni way of doing things. Throw it all on one big pile and add a fireball. Paperwork was no longer a problem. I couldn’t go back to the mage guild, or the Telvanni. It made me feel damn lonely. In a way, I’d gone full circle. A single man, lost on an island full of strangers with no place to call home and no friends. The only advantage I had over last time was experience.

I stopped to look out over the lake for a while. It was the first time I could and it would be the last time. Anyone visiting Vvardenfell had to do this at least once. The scale and grandeur of Vivec was incredible, even though misplaced and built on one big lie. The city of the living god, it was called. Indeed, the city had the same name as the god hiding in the palace at the far southern end. But Vivec was no god. A true god was immortal, a true god did not rely on stolen power. Vivec had the powers of a god, yes, but his were achieved by leeching from the heart of a real god, like a vampire. With the access to his power gone, I reckoned he would become mortal again.

The sun had turned away the cool winds of the night by the time I tore myself away from the railing and went inside. I had a job to do. My destination was a place known as the Black Shalk cornerclub. I’d only been there once before and during the five minutes I spent there, I already managed to gain the everlasting enmity of its proprietor. However, that had been the better part of a year ago. He wouldn’t recognize me, especially after the change I went through.

Inside the cornerclub I would find my target, if he still had the same habits. He did, and I saw him sitting in a corner with a mug in his scaled hands. It all looked too familiar. What looked familiar as well were the three Dark Elves who were glaring at him with violence in their eyes. Huleeya the Argonian did his best to ignore them, probably in the vain hope they would go away. He was as cowardly as ever.

I stood by the door, on that small part that was between the cornerclub and outside. I had a choice here. I could just turn around and leave. If I went to Hammerfell as planned, no Morag Tong would ever be able to bother me again. It was all so easy. All I had to do was to turn around and walk away. But that was something I already knew I would not do, even as I stood there, hesitating.
,,Only a fool dismisses the option of retreat.” Those were words of wisdom my father had spoken countless times during those years I knew him. We were similar in that respect as we both knew the truth behind those words yet we both ignored them at all times. It had cost him his life, as well as the lives of those I called my family. And it had cost me fifteen years of my life. The life of a smuggler had its risks, and we were foolish enough to ignore them. Those Legionnaires must have had the greatest laugh of their life when they came down on us.

But was it really our own fault, was it really coincidence? The man called Cluson Alkad raised me, but he wasn’t my true father. I was an orphan, an orphan whose natural parents lived in a different world. The son of a dragon and the queen of dusk. Akatosh and Azura. Even from birth my life had been all planned out by the scheming Azura. I’d been a puppet, forced to play by her strings. So was it really coincidence, that day my family died? Or was it part of plan, to get me on the path that lead to Vvardenfell?

I shook the thoughts out of my head. I’d fulfilled my role and I no longer had to listen to her. This would be for me. I stepped into the room, heading straight for the nearest Dark Elf.

,,Leave, now.” I ordered as if I had all right to do so. It was a Telvanni habit. If they can’t beat you, they’ll have to listen. I’d already seized them up. Armed with Chitin daggers and no skill in the use of Magicka whatsoever, I had nothing to fear from them. Last time I’d talked them into leaving, this time I would beat them if they did not listen.

,,What is it to you, N’Wah? Filthy Outlanders, don’t know who’s boss around here.” The drunk man mumbled and turned his back on me. A symbolic gesture, a foolish one.
,,Last time I checked, I was the boss around here.” I replied. He turned back to me, holding his dagger. His two friends joined him.
,, You think so? Leave, Redguard. Or you will be sorry.” They threatened as one. I bet they studied real hard on those words.

I flipped out Chrysamere in a onehanded grip and levelled its tip to the ground.
,,Sorry? Yeah, I’ll be sorry alright. Getting all the little dents fixed will cost a ton.” I spoke and flashed a grin. Even though they were drunk, they still knew when to give up. The well-used appearance of my sword, still dirty with ash and blood, told them enough. Not to mention that going up against a Claymore with the crummiest dagger in the world is never a good idea.

After they’d left hastily, I walked over to Huleeya who was watching me with great interest.
,,You’re still a coward, I see. But, that doesn’t change a thing. We need to talk.” I informed him before grabbing him by the shoulder. Before the assassin had registered the sudden move, we were already back in Seyda Neen, standing on top of the lighthouse. This place would give me the chance to talk without anyone interfering.

[The Metal Mallet]

It's always neat to see Luper recollect on his first time experiences in Morrowind as he now revisits these same places. I certainly wonder if Huleeya remebers our good pal Luper...

And it certainly looks like this interrogation might be a bit rough, considering the height of the lighthouse and all...

[jack cloudy]

No update, even though one is long overdue.

No, I just came to say here that I'm putting Oasis 2 on hold. I should have realized sooner, but this story is going to contain major spoilers regarding Agent. I might work up till the point of these spoilers but before I dive into this story, I want to finish Agent.

Also, there are plenty of Mournhold stories out already so adding another one feels like oversaturization. But I can already promise that Luper is going to do things slightly different.

[The Metal Mallet]

No worries Jack. With all your other stories going on right now, I'm sure we're far off from seeing a true absense of written material from you. Just reading this now had me curious as to what you're going to do in Agent.

[jack cloudy]

I promised I wouldn't write but as it turns out, I lied.

Anyway, with this update I canonized (is that even a word?) Ro-El's existence while at the same time avoiding any spoilers regarding Agent. Or at least, I hope I dodged spoilers.




Naturally, Huleeya was surprised at the sudden change of environment. Still, he adapted very fast and kept from doing anything stupid, like stepping off the ledge and plummeting down to his doom. I might have to change my opinion of the Argonian. He also managed to surprise me.
,,Good morning, Luper Alkad.” He hissed. By doing that, he was the first person who recognized me without any hints. Impressive.
,,You actually remember me. I’m flattered.” I said as a joke in return.

,,Not quite. It was more a process of deduction. One, you are a Redguard who has enough control over Magicka to transport two beings through a recall spell. Two, there is a Redguard known as Luper Alkad who caused quite some trouble in House Telvanni recently, as well as the mage guild. So, you must be Luper Alkad. Should I feel honoured to meet the Nerevarine?” He replied.
,,So you don’t remember me. Whatever, I’m a busy man so I want to keep this short. The Morag Tong has a writ on me and I want to know why. Specifically, who gave the damn order.” I have to admit, I was a bit disappointed. Being famous was bad, but being recognized by some people as Luper and not the Nerevarine would feel good.

Huleeya blinked a single time.
,,It is not Morag Tong custom to reveal the identity of our clients, neither to outsiders nor the assassins. Only the headmaster knows. I can’t make an exception even for you, even if I did know about a writ. Furthermore, we don’t have a writ on you so either way, I won’t answer.” He hissed. I frowned, not pleased.
,,So only the headmaster knows? Then you can’t claim that the Morag Tong doesn’t have a writ on me!”

The Argonian shook his head.
,,While I only know the target of my own writ, I can easily make this claim. The Morag Tong is a respectable organization, but there is still plenty of gossip among us. We don’t have a writ on you simply because we don’t have any writs at all. Not now anyway. Maybe you should try again next week.” He told me. It took me a moment to recognize he’d actually tried a joke.
,,Next week, right. Ok, if the Morag Tong isn’t after me, then how do you explain this?” I chuckled despite the seriousness of the situation and threw the black mask at his feet. His reaction was interesting to say the least.

His eyes lit up, burning with an inner flame. Reading an Argonian’s expression is hard, but I was convinced that Huleeya was about to burst. So angry was he.
,,Remove that cursed thing from my sight! That mask belongs to the Dark Brotherhood. The Morag Tong has no writ on you, but it seems that our greatest enemy does.” He growled. My frown deepened.
,,Dark Brotherhood? I thought those guys only operated on mainland Tamriel.”

,,So did we. Listen, Luper Alkad. This one must have been trailing you for a long time, from before the quarantine. I suggest you flee this place anyway you can. When the Dark Brotherhood has chosen a prey, escape becomes nearly impossible. I’ll return to the nearest guild hall and spread the word. The Dark Brotherhood’s taint will be washed from Vvardenfell.” Huleeya did not wait for a response. He snatched the mask from the ground and brushed past me on his way to the stairs. I let him, there was nothing left for me to ask anyway. I thought about asking the mask back but dropped the thought. I had no use for it and Huleeya needed it as proof more than I did.

,,The Dark Brotherhood? First an invincible god and now a shadowy family of unstoppable assassins. You sure know how to choose your enemies, Luper.” Elone said later at the Tradehouse. I was in the process of downing my fourth flin.
,,I don’t choose them, they choose me.” I replied dryly.
,,Bad karma, eh? So, what are you going to do now? Ergalla tried to get a ship, but the damn Imperial Navy won’t close within shouting distance. Still scared of the Blight, I presume. Are you going to hunt them down?” The Redguard continued as she filled my mug for the fifth time. I laughed.

,,Hunt them down? Elone, the Dark Brotherhood is hidden all over Tamriel. If I was going to hunt them down, I’d be busy for a lifetime! Granted, I have plenty of time on my hands but still! Even if I could find them, I would never be able to wipe them all out. They would just repopulate and recruit new throatslitters in my wake.” I grumbled and threw back my fifth flin. My fellow Blade collected five more bottles from her stash.
,,Even though you are my boss, you will need to pay for the alcohol.” Damn.

I shoved away the empty mug.
,,That’s the last one, then.” I grumbled.
,,The last one. I’ve been thinking about what Huleeya said. The assassin had been trailing you from before the quarantine. The Dark Brotherhood probably won’t be expecting his return to the mainland till the quarantine is lifted. In fact, they may not expect him to return at all, what with the Blight and all. So you could just stay here. I could easily have you registered at the Census and Excise as my long lost cousin.” Elone offered me as she returned the bottles to the rack.

,,Nah, that doesn’t match up at all. If he’d been behind me from before the quarantine, he would know about Caius, he would know about the Corprus, he would know…..a lot of things. He would know that a simple poison wouldn’t kill me and that he’d better be real good to do it with his blades. He didn’t know any of it. And judging from everything else we know about him, I seriously doubt his ability to track me for months without being noticed by anyone.” I got up from the stool and walked towards the window.
,,And about staying here. I dunno. Those two might still be after me. What were their names….Hissking and…..Sprigoth?”

,,If you are referring to Hrisskar and Fargoth, they’re both gone. We found Hrisskar in the smuggler’s cave. He had been turned into a Chitin pincushion. And there was only one in town who used Chitin arrows. Fargoth. He left the day after.” I looked up from the window and grinned.
,,So the little twerp grew some backbone? Was about time.” I laughed. Elone frowned.
,,It smells fishy to me. There was this Nord child who came to town the day before. Got into a little brawl with Vodunius Nucius. The kid was one good monk I tell you. Broke all of his limbs in three seconds flat. We found Nucius with Hrisskar and an unknown Breton in the cave. Nucius had a lot of arrowholes in strategic positions, the ones you would target during an interrogation, and a broken nose, even though Arille fixed that one earlier. The Nord was with Fargoth. Now how would a nobody know this really talented monk who looked a bit like a noble?” She commented with that serious tone I began to hate. She should lighten up.

My mind had begun spinning though. Nord kid, real nasty with his fists and feet? I knew one.
,,Say, what was the kid’s name? Did it sound a bit Khajiiti…Ro-El…Frost?” I asked. I was kind of amazed at myself for actually remembering. The last two times we met, I’d kinda embarrassed myself by acting like I had amnesia or something.
,,I never got his name. You know him?” Elone asked back with a shrug.
,,Maybe, if we’re talking about the same Nord. Yeah, I met someone like that twice. I can’t talk about his offense since that was limited to a single thrown dagger but man, he sure knows how to dodge. Don’t know if he’s still alive though. The last time we met was at Dren Plantation. Helped me out against two assassins. Private assassins, not DB.”

[The Metal Mallet]

I don't mind you starting up this story again! How can we not like more Luper?

Great work as usual; I certainly liked the Ro-El inclusion though the time-frame has me scratching my head. Didn't the Fargoth/Hrisskarr event happen while Luper was still attempting to become the Nerevarine? Elone makes it sound like it just happened the other day, but since this story takes place after the Morrowind MQ, this event probably happened quite awile ago. Or maybe I just read something wrong...

[jack cloudy]

If Syeda Neen was a bustling city, you would be right. This however, is a boring dump where nothing ever happens. If needed, they could keep talking about the whole thing for years.

Anyway, rejoice! Oasis 2 is now back in bussiness and can hereby officially be titled 'Agent 2' as well.




That night, I snuck out of my room and wandered off to the top of the lighthouse. I needed some time alone, to think. Even though I’d done my best to reassure Elone that no further assassins would interrupt during dinnertime, I wasn’t convinced myself. He’d been too much of an amateur to stalk me for months. He had arrived at the island only a short time ago. It was the only conclusion I could imagine. And with that big army I’d gathered, finding me had been as easy as signing up for ‘the adventure of a lifetime’.

So I was back where I started. I had to get off the island, for more reasons than before. To get off, I needed a ship. A fast one. I couldn’t build one, not in secrecy. Likewise, there were no ships to rent from the shipmasters on the island. They knew that certain death from a hail of arrows was not in their best interests. But I needed a boat, a fast one that could be manned by just one person. Those were pretty rare, which brought me to my only option. I would have to steal one.

But where to steal it? I had been to plenty of harbours during my travels across Vvardenfell. But not all of them would be a great place to look. Seyda Neen was out because there wasn’t a ship here at all. Most traffic had been inbound, as opposed to outbound. A bit further to the north was the village of Hla Oad. That however, was a Camonna Tong infested scumpile. Since I was the one who took out their leader as well as slaughtering the Hla Oad hideout, I figured it was best not to show my face there. They couldn’t really hurt me, but I preferred not to kill if I could help it.

The harbour I was most familiar with was Sadrith Mora’s. It was big and quite busy. But I was a bit too familiar over there. Having passed through countless times on Telvanni business, I would stick out like a sore thumb. Not to mention that the boats that frequented the mushroom capital were of the heavy and slow variant. The only harbour I knew that could suit my needs was Ebonheart’s. It was reasonably big and most of all, the primary connection with the mainland. Boats of all types came there, from fast raiders to lumbering freight vessels.

I saw no reason why I should delay any further. If I wanted to find the peace I wanted so much, every moment was another request for a nightly visit by assassins. Elone wouldn’t like it, but I frankly didn’t care how she felt about it. This was my life I was playing it, not hers. She might be happy with living in a fishing village where people talk for months about a broken nose. Man, I was still surprised to see Fargoth fight back against that bully of a Hrisskar. It was just so sudden.

I jumped down from the lighthouse to a rocky ledge below and walked around the village till I was underneath the walkway leading to Arille’s tradehouse. I’d left my gear in the store room and I was not going to ask for the key and breaking in through the door would only force me to knock out the guards who would come over to investigate the open door. I needed an alternative entrance, and a combination of silence and disintegration spells provided that entrance.

I rummaged through the Altmer’s stock while I had the chance. I was looking for some food and more importantly, some tools for field repairs. The sooner I got my armour and Chrysamere patched up, the safer I would feel. I also came across a pile of cheap clothes. After a short deliberation, I picked up a rough traveller’s cloak. One more guy hiding within the shadows of a hood would just be one more guy with a need to remain anonymous. I wasn’t taking any chances. Just in case my hijack went wrong. Spoiling the legend of the impossibly good and noble Nerevarine would only make things worse on Vvardenfell after my departure.

After two days of trudging through mud and cursing the rain, I caught sight of castle Ebonheart. The place looked a bit different. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. But it somehow looked…..cleaner. As if someone had suddenly developed the urge to make Ebonheart look at its finest. Perhaps there was an important guest? I hoped so. Any guest important enough to give the whole place a makeover was going to be holed up within the castle and everyone with a halfway decent excuse would be in the castle as well. It would mean I wasn’t as likely to run into a random citizen at the wrong time.

My boots made sharp sounds on the polished streets. It was strange to see the whole place so quiet and deserted. It made me feel a bit uneasy. Strangely enough, I might have felt better if I did bump into a random citizen right now. Anything to make me feel that this wasn’t a ghost town now. And were where the guards? I got the distinct feeling something was wrong. And I’d learned to trust my feelings.
,,You there! Behind you!”

I jumped towards the middle of the street and turned around in midair. A black shadow passed through my previous location. It was a throwing knife, painted as black as the night. Dark Brotherhood. The knife’s owner was smarter than his predecessor. Instead of facing me openly, he stuck to the shadows, lobbing knife after knife at me. I ducked and sidestepped, cursing my earlier decision for picking up the cloak. I couldn’t possibly unsheathe Chrysamere while wearing it. Fortunately I wasn’t just another Redguard with a sword, despite appearances.

,,I suppose I could ask you who sent you, but if the Dark Brotherhood is anything similar to the Morag Tong, you were probably too dumb to ask yourself.” I shouted and brushed the last knife aside with Telekinesis.
,,Phah! Don’t compare us with the Morag Tong! We’re better than those hypocrites!” The assassin spat from the darkness. I took aim and released a large fireball. Soon after striking a wall, it exploded and set the previously invisible assassin on fire.
,,Better? I dunno. If you really were better, you would have remained silent. Making noise is an assassins worst enemy. Idiot.” I chuckled and ducked to pick up one of his knifes.

Apart from being painted black and coated with some kind of poison, it looked like an absolutely ordinary knife. Recognizing different brands of paint wasn’t my specialty and I couldn’t tell much about the poison either. Without Ajiira and her extensive Alchemy equipment, I couldn’t tell more about it than just noting that it was a colourless liquid. And I wasn’t stupid enough to taste it in an attempt to find out more.

I dropped it and looked up at the castle. Someone had shouted a warning. That warning might very well have saved my life. I had underestimated the Dark Brotherhood. Not only had they made a second attempt much sooner than I’d expected, but their skills at stealth were quite worthy of praise as well. There was a balcony up there and I cast a Skybolt that brought me there. The balcony was empty, and the door was open. I cast a shield spell on myself and carefully drew Chrysamere before entering. I had had my fair share of near-death experiences for tonight. It wouldn’t hurt to be a bit more careful from now on.

The room was an average bedroom. Small but not overly so, and its lack of the normal souvenirs told me it was meant for guests. I looked to my right and saw an indistinguishable pile of frozen flesh on top of a pile of goldish steel. I saw steel spiderlegs. Spiderlegs?
,,Yagrum Bagarn? What are you doing here, you corprus-ridden fatso? Eghk, and who killed you?” I said out loud. That was a mistake and I compensated for it by spinning around and checking for anyone within the room.

,,That was not Yagrum Bagarn. He never existed.” A man said who was sitting on the room’s bed. He was short, devoid of any muscle, pointy-eared, bearded and wearing the clothes of a noble. Especially the pointy ears and the beard caught my eyes. I’d never seen an elf with a beard before. But it did seem familiar.
,,And who might you be? His not so fat younger brother? What do you mean, he never existed?” I replied and pointed Chrysamere at the floor. The man was unarmed and he hadn’t moved yet. But he could be a mage, if he was responsible for freezing late Yagrum.

,,Behind you under the table.” The strange man answered which did not help me anything. I now knew what he looked like. He looked like a Dwemer, like the ones I’d seen only in the form of statues and ghosts. Oh, and one overwhelmingly fat guy who was now out cold. I kept one eye on him and looked at the table with the other. Under the table there was a sword sheathed in a metal scabbard. Its pommel was a strange bluish gem, almost like ice. And there was a cold mist around it.
,,You killed him with that.” I stated. The Dwemer nodded.

,,That sword is Forgeheart, an old blade that can only be wielded by Dumac. Anyone else will have his hands frozen off.” He said in a casual tone as if he was talking about the weather. I put two and two together within a heartbeat.
,,Hold it, so now you’re saying that you’re Dumac? I thought the guy was dead!” I exclaimed.
,,I was, I’m reincarnated now. You better know me as the kid whose name you keep forgetting.”

The kid whose name I keep forgetting. I now knew who he was and I also knew he wasn’t a threat to me whatsoever. I put Chrysamer against the wall and made myself comfortable. This was odd though. I was like eight years older than him, yet he looked like the older one now. It had to be the beard.
,,Not anymore. I now know you as Ro-El Frost. And Dumac apparently. So, who was Yagrum?” I said with a warmer tone. The kid’s voice however was as cold as the sword under the table.
,,That thing was Kagrenac. I did what I had to do and that’s the end of the story. His death had been long overdue anyway.

[The Metal Mallet]

He was Kragrenac!? What a twist! But I can see the logic behind it. Kragrenac was the one behind creating the rift that made all the Dwemer disappear. Obviously the spell doesn't affect the castor if he was still around. Of course, that's my theory.

Very interesting update on this story. I look forward to seeing if Luper and Ro-El interact with each other on a continued basis now.

[jack cloudy]

Well, in my version the Dwemer have become the soul of Pelinal, remember? But still, there is something for me to work with and turn Yagrum Bagarn into Kagrenac. My explanation follows in this update. Does it sound like a good one to you?


I had to make sure my mouth hadn’t fell open. Yagrum Bagarn was Kagrenac? It was unbelievable, simply ridiculous. But as I looked on the subject a bit closer, I realized it wasn’t so ridiculous at all. If I’d thought about the whole thing earlier, I might’ve found out for myself. The story he’d given me, the one about how he was investigating the outer realms and so managed to dodge the end of the Dwemer, only to later become infected with Corprus by Dagoth Ur, it was convincing to anyone who wasn’t familiar with the time period, which meant just about the whole world.

It was all about timing. The timing of his story seemed right at first, but it was way off upon closer inspection. First of all, the outer realms. Could the Dwemer really travel to another plane? And would that really elude Azura’s wrath? Even if so, why just Yagrum? Why would he be the only one? And then Dagoth Ur, would the mad god really let a Dwemer go after infecting him with Corprus? No, he wouldn’t, especially not after he’d gone through all the trouble of performing genocide in the first place. Yagrum had been lying, lying without a truth available to reveal those lies.

It all made sense to me now. Kagrenac had made the tools to tap into Lorkhan’s heart. Why wouldn’t he have used the tools before Dagoth Ur and the Tribunal did? Why not, he had a headstart measured in months! This also brought me to another conclusion. The so-called divinity of the Tribunal and Dagoth Ur was nothing more but a really advanced form of Corprus. Kagrenac proved it. He had tapped into the heart and become infected with Corprus. His long isolation from the heart was probably what caused his Corprus to degrade till it was at the same level as mine.

So Corprus relied on Lorkhan’s heart to maintain its effects. Did this mean that my semi-immortality would vanish over time? I couldn’t tap into Lorkhan’s heart, even if I wanted to. Both the heart, Sunder and Keening where lost in that pit of magma. My Corprus would likely degrade till I was nothing but a quivering lump of maddened flesh. Not a pleasant thought, though I would still live as long as an elf before it would happen.

But wait, Lorkhan was an Aedra. So was I, a direct incarnation of Akatosh. There was nothing that separated me from Lorkhan, as far as potential power was concerned. And Akatosh was the lord of time. So far, I didn’t really notice any of the timelord stuff but I did have a good substitute for the heart to maintain my Corprus. I was the substitute, my Aedric heritage was all I needed. I felt much relieved now that I didn’t have to expect to turn into a disfigured monster.

,,So he was Kagrenac. Now that I gave it some thought, I’m surprised I didn’t notice before. Or that Fyr never noticed. Meh, the old coot is as crazy as the rest of the old generation Telvanni. One has you kill for a drink, the other thinks she’s a spider, before she died, one keeps himself isolated, and the last is scared of all men. Fyr’s stupidity is that he’s too obsessed with his studies and mad experiments to notice anything else. Geez, what kind of guy needs to pull women out of jars?” I chuckled.
,,Anyway, thanks for the help with the assassin, again.” I added. The young man moved back to the balcony and looked down on the corpse below.

,,Ah, Dark Brotherhood? What is one of those doing here?” He asked himself out loud.
,,Beats me. This is the second one to bother me. That’s why I’ve been trying to get off the island.” I replied. To my surprise, the short Nord, Dwemer, whatever, laughed.
,,So you came here to steal a boat. The greatest hero of all, a common thief. That’s funny.” He said with a broad smile.
,,Hey, I couldn’t just go ask. That would only put more assassins on my trail.” I brought forward as my defence.
,,Point taken. But why take a boat? Why not something better? Why not, an airship?” Ro-El displayed a perfect imitation of my own smug grin as he said that.

,,Airship?” I mumbled. I remembered once seeing a parchment with what Baladas Demnevanni had called a Dwemer airship. According to him, they were a relatively rare form of transportation, but incredibly fast. As the name suggests, the best description was that of a flying ship.
,,Sure. The Cloudcleaver is all ready to go. You just need to wait till morning. The spare parts arrived two days ago and the engine is not completely fixed yet. The Tesla coil needs to be configured, the magnetic coating applied, the vector control system needs to be cleaned.” Ro-El displayed that smug grin again. He knew that I didn’t understand a thing of what he just said.
,,Right, whatever you say. Got something to drink here? All this talking and killing assassins makes me thirsty. Oh, and get someone to clean up the Dark Brotherhood dude down there.”

[The Metal Mallet]

Well your explanation of why Bagarn was Kagrenac sounds suitable and I don't mind your reasoning behind Lorkhan as well. I would also think the "cure" Fyr gave Luper would also help Luper avoid the negative effects of the Corprus even with the failing of Lorkhan, but with your explanation it would explain why Luper would keep the immortality/super strength.

[jack cloudy]

Glad I've managed to avoid glaring plotholes. Let's hope my luck keeps up, because I'm really going crazy with the theories here.



Ro-El told me to follow him downstairs. I hesitated at first since I could be recognized but I quickly put on a ‘whatever’ attitude and did it. I was thirsty enough to drink an ocean. I did make sure I had my hood up properly.
,,We were having a party of sorts. A lot of important people are hanging out, people who would probably recognize you. So, we’re going to a place where there is plenty of drinks yet no one to bother us.”

I was led into the complicated net of secret passages that seemed to literally flood the castle. It was dark in there, and not even a night eye spell could bring any sight to my eyes. In fact, I noticed a weak yet noticeable drain on my magicka in here. It wasn’t enough to actually stop me from casting spells, but it did make it harder to focus. A defensive measure to keep out nightblades? Whatever the reason was, I did lose track of where I was within record time.

After quite a long walk, Ro-El came to a door that was only visible by the light that slipped out from beneath it. He opened it and walked through into a room that was reasonably well-lit by torches and cadles.
,,Hi Leroth, Galbedir. Left anything to drink?” He said which caused my heart to skip a beat. Galbedir. After all the trouble I went through to avoid my friends, I had to run into her. I turned around and swiftly walked away. Even if I was lost, it was better than staying here.
,,Luper? Is that you?” The Bosmer called out after me. With my disguise shattered, I stopped and went back.

,,Yeah. How did you know?” I asked her warily. She gave me an extremely angry look before replying.
,,I’d recognize that sword anywhere. It is your pride and joy. Now why did you just leave like that? Why are you avoiding me?” She then snapped. Against the fury of a woman, I was helpless. Well, if the furious woman was a friend. Against the anonymous female necromancer looking to turn me into another skeleton, I didn’t have such reservations.
,,It’s politics.” I grumbled. It was all I could say. She took it without a frown, a questioning eyebrow or anything else, just a nod of understanding. I wondered where she got her politic wisdom from so sudden.

The male Bosmer she was with had been staring at me all this time.
,,So you are the Nerevarine. Heh, haven’t seen you since you thumped those two in the arena. Any particular reason why you’re here?” He now spoke. Galbedir stuck out her hand.
,,Sword.” She demanded. I looked from one to the other, from how close they stood together, to the matching rings on their hands, both enchanted with a healing spell, using a rather powerful and therefore expensive soul. I took Chrysamere off my back and handed it over.
,,Careful, it is heavy. And when did you get all romantic, Galbedir?” I chuckled. I was beginning to get back to my old self now that the worst had passed.

Ro-El dragged the guy, Leroth, away. They went to one of the darker corners and began a whispered conversation, with heavy usage of hand-signs. I looked at the spectacle with a raised eyebrow.
,,Let them, they enjoy it. After all, men are men and need their games to be happy. In their case, it’s espionage.” Galbedir laughed and waved me over to the table where she’d put down Chrysamere.

,,Chrysamere has changed since I last saw it. It feels more alive. Now that Dagoth Ur isn’t draining every enchantment on the island, I can actually study it properly.” She began when Leroth suddenly shouted across the room.
,,But Forgeheart never got drained. Even when Dagoth Ur was at his best, Forgeheart was still freezing whole rivers of hot boiling magma!” We both looked at him before returning our eyes to my Claymore without a word.
,,Forgeheart.” Galbedir demanded next while she traced the minute engraving on Chrysamere’s blade. A few moments later, a longsword of odd design was dropped on the table which instantly became covered in a thin layer of frozen dust.

I looked at the new sword with interest. The blade was distinctly Dwemer, so was the crossguard. Yet the blade’s edge was made of some sort of ice. How ice was supposed to make a better edge than solid steel, I had no idea.
,,Forgeheart. One of the six tools of Lorkhan.” Ro-El said which made my heart skip a beat again.
,,Six?” I asked sharply. Last time I’d heard, there were only three tools, two of which were now lost forever.

Ro-El looked from one face to the other, assuring himself that he had our full attention.
,,It was something he said to me before I killed him. I could’ve asked, but I don’t think he would’ve said anything else. It was likely a slip in the first place. Anyway, Kagrenac called Forgeheart one of his six tools. I remember him and know that when Kagrenac speaks about his tools, he means his masterpieces. That is, Wraithguard, Sunder and Keening, followed by the three swords. Trueflame, Hopesfire and Forgeheart. In the case of the known trio, we already know how they’re supposed to tap into Lorkhan’s heart. But in the case of the three swords, we don’t know and it isn’t important anymore.” He explained.

Galbedir had turned her attention back to the two swords and Leroth was helping her with her examination. That left me as the last listener.
,,Wait a minute. I have extensive experience with the three known tools. Now Sunder and Keening required Wraithguard as a sort of safekeeping measure to prevent the wrong person from using them. Won’t the three swords have something similar?” I asked. Ro-El began to pace back and forth with a big frown on his face.
,,Wraithguard.” Galbedir demanded behind my back.
,,Geez, we need another table.” Leroth mumbled as he took the gauntlet.

,,Hmm……that would be right. According to the stories, which I’ve seen proven by fact, at least Trueflame could only be wielded by Nerevar. This is according to what Kagrenac said during dinner once the case with all three swords. Now I can wield Forgeheart, but I don’t know if it’s because I’m Dumac, or because I absorb whatever backlash I might get. I’m leaning towards me being Dumac though. Wraithguard sounds more like a key that can be used to wield the three swords as well as Sunder and Keening. Now why he not only had the swords be the key to Pelinal but also the key to Lorkhan, that’s another thing. Unless he planned to put Lorkhan’s heart inside Pelinal. That could be it. Pelinal defeated the heart-powered Numidium, despite supposedly using an inferior powersource. Pelinal with the heart would be simply unstoppable.” He continued on for a while, but I’d stopped listening.

With all the commotion, we’d completely forgotten about getting something to drink. I corrected the problem by grabbing a bottle of flin and throwing it back while watching the shorter people work.

[blockhead]

I just finally got around to catching up on this story. Woah. Dude. This is connected to your other story .... ohhhhhh. Suddenly a lot of stuff is clearer to me.

Cool!

p.s. - I love the way you portray Galbedir in the most recent installment: she gives terse one-word orders ("sword", "forgeheart", "wraithguard") and everyone obeys.

edit:

while watching the shorter people work.

- LOL!!!!

This post has been edited by blockhead: Jun 5 2007, 11:52 PM

[jack cloudy]

For a few hours, I was forced to stand at the sidelines and watch as Galbedir showed why she was a first-class enchanter. After a while, Ro-El drew Leroth away from his girlfriend and the two renewed their incomprehensible conversation. I stuck with drinking and reading a book, the Real Barenziah. It was entertaining, though obviously a big load of nonsense. Hello, no way anyone would let someone as ‘slippy’ as Barenziah become their queen. Gosh, she literally played prostitute in her early days. With the nobility, that was like a sin worthy of execution.

I had fallen asleep in the end. When I woke up, Ro-El and Leroth were gone, leaving only Galbedir.
,,It’s good to see you awake. Ro-El is at the harbour to supervise the loading of supplies at his airship. Leroth is negotiating with the Duke to get permission for Ro-El to take a trip to the mainland. You can travel with him.” She said as soon as I opened my eyes. I shook off the light hangover I had and sat upright.
,,Guess I’ll be going then. Since you’re here and all, say goodby to the rest of the gang. I’d rather not go through it myself.” I grumbled half-coherently and picked up Wraithguard from the table.

,,No.” Galbedir said. She had that tone again she used when she was ‘in business’.
,,Why not? I’m going away here and probably won’t come back.” I objected. The Bosmer shook her head defiantly and pointed a finger at the gauntlet.
,,You won’t need it where you’re going and I’m not done studying it. There is an enchantment on it that’s supreme. I want to learn all about it. Besides, it’s pretty much wrecked now. Send me a letter in a few years and I’ll have our Dwemer courier bring it to you.”

Shaking my own head, I put Wraithguard back down. She was right, I didn’t need it and it was horribly damaged.
,,But I will take Chrysamere.” I said as I brought the sword back to the scabbard on my back.
,,Go ahead. I’m not done studying it either but this is something you will need, knowing your habit at finding trouble. I can tell you something about it.” Galbedir replied and hurried over to the table where I’d put Wraithguard.
,,Chrysamere is an enchanted Claymore. So far, there are three layers of enchantment I’ve found. One is what the legends call Shalidor’s mirror. It can reflect a force of Magicka directed at it. It works with low-end spells, but I doubt that it can stop a more powerful spell. The second layer feels like Telekinesis, yet focussed onto itself. I have concluded that this Telekinesis keeps the blade from warping. It’s what makes the otherwise unexceptional steel so resilient. With it, Chrysamere is on par with Daedric weapons. The third layer, I don’t know what it does, or even if it does something. But it is there.”

I listened with only half an ear as she droned on. Galbedir was nice at times, but don’t make her talk about enchantments. She could drone on and on for hours then.
,,Right, got it. I’m leaving now. Bye.” I interrupted her and fled the room a bit faster than what would have been polite. I ran around blind for a few minutes before I figured I might as well ram my head into the wall for being so stupid. There was no way I was going to navigate this maze by pure luck. Fortunately, I didn’t have to. The Dispel effect was good enough to stop an amateur, but not the head of House Telvanni and the Mage guild. I cast a single-trip of Divine intervention and then continued my trek to the harbour from the Imperial cult’s hall.

Once the harbour came within view, I stopped to gawk at the sight like a tourist. So that was this Cloudcleaver Ro-El had been talking about. It was beautiful. A gracefully curved hull of the gold-like Dwemer steel with what looked like two drums attached to the end of two wingshaped protrusions at the sides. It didn’t look like something that could fly really. In fact, at the moment it was floating like a normal ship. Ro-El himself was pacing about on the deck, trying to keep the curious crowd at a distance and trying to organize the loading of the crates.
,,Careful with that! That box contains delicate equipment! And pay attention to the ‘this side up’ tags, please!” He shouted. I laughed at the sight. It was rather amusing to see this energetic chaos.

I pushed my way through the crowd. When I’d reached the front line, an Imperial came out to block my path.
,,This area is off-limits.” He barked at me with a voice used to giving orders.
,,Hey, nice armour. I think I have a cuirass like that in my collection somewhere.” I quipped. The man’s eyes narrowed and I realized that I might’ve taken it a bit too far.
,,It’s okay, Serius! He’s authorized. Just try to ignore his tongue, it hasn’t been cut off like it should have.” Ro-El shouted. He’d now boarded the airship. I grinned at this Serius and brushed past him.

,,Cut off my tongue? That’s a new one.” I joked and jumped up on the deck.
,,So, does this thing actually fly?” I asked in a more serious tone.
,,From one end of Tamriel to the other, if needed. Now once those guys have left the ship, we’ll be leaving. Oh, but there is one thing we have to discuss.” Ro-El answered and my mood sank like a brick. There had to be a ‘thing’. There was always a thing. What happened to the time when favours were still free?