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Trey in Mournhold, Chapter 8 |
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treydog |
Dec 3 2006, 04:56 PM
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Master
Joined: 13-February 05
From: The Smoky Mountains
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Even as Karrod and I were exchanging weapons, Helseth was waving his hands and shrilly proclaiming:
“Enough! I have seen you fight my champion, though I find it hard to imagine how you have succeeded. I did not believe anyone could beat Karrod, but you have shown me otherwise. And he speaks! There are depths to you, Trey, that I will fathom in time.”
A range of expressions crossed the king’s face as he spoke- confusion, calculation, and possibly even fear. As I had intended, my gift of the ebony blade to Karrod had surprised Helseth and confused him. Still, I would have to be careful- the king tended to have a short way with things that confused him, especially if they appeared to be threatening. It was, in fact, a measure of his befuddlement that he had publicly admitted that he expected me to lose, to die at Karrod’s hands. So I was satisfied to make the king wonder- about me and about the allegiance of his champion. When I got a little older, I would realize that it is unwise to tease the animals- particularly those with sharp teeth and claws. But for the moment, I simply drew myself up and faced the king. He regained his composure and spoke in a louder tone, so that all present could hear.
“I'm impressed, Trey. No one has ever defeated Karrod in battle, and I certainly didn't expect you to be the first. You continue to surprise me. You have proven your worth to me, as well as your loyalty. Take this as a token of my faith in our friendship. It was my father's ceremonial dagger, and I place it now in your possession. Do not disgrace his memory, Trey.”
I could not help but think that this presentation of the Dagger of Symmachus was an attempt to save face and to overshadow my exchange with Karrod. Still, even I was not so foolish as to offer a direct, public insult by refusing the gift, so I accepted the blade and listened attentively as Helseth continued, saying,
“ Now, let us discuss my plans for you. As I'm certain you know, Mournhold is one of the seats of power for the Tribunal. The goddess Almalexia resides here in her Temple, surrounded by her High Ordinators. I have no great love for Almalexia, her Ordinators, or the Tribunal of which she is a part. In light of recent events, I believe it is time to gather more information about them. You assisted ably in defending the city during the attack on the Plaza Brindisi Dorom and provided useful information regarding the creatures involved. However, there is more to be learned.”
He paused to ensure that I was listening, then lowered his voice as if concerned about unseen listeners.
“I believe that the only person who might shed more light on this situation is Almalexia herself. All indications are that these creatures must be the constructs of Sotha Sil, and only Almalexia is likely to have information about him. I wish for you to speak to her, learn what she knows about the creatures, and report to me. There is no reason for the goddess to suspect that you and I may be allied. Use this to your advantage. Do not approach me again until you have learned all that you can.” At last, I had what I needed- a royal sanction to investigate the Temple and the goddess. Still, it would not do to seem too eager, so I schooled my features to stillness and responded with a short nod before taking my leave.
Once I was safely ensconced in my basement hideaway, I examined the two weapons I had acquired- the dagger from Helseth and the strange Dwemer blade that Karrod had received from his father. I tried hard to forget the words Karrod had spoken about the “rightful owner” and even harder to ignore the voice that had chimed in my head when I grasped the hilt of the sword. But what I could not ignore was the fact that Karrod’s weapon fit together perfectly with the piece of Nerevar’s blade Almalexia had given me. I held in my hands two parts of shattered Trueflame.
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The dreams down here aren't broken, nah, they're walkin' with a limp...
The best-dressed newt in Mournhold.
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Wraithguard |
Dec 7 2006, 04:24 AM
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Associate
Joined: 29-October 06
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interesting...trey has mentioned where to find a cool dagger, i need more daggers.
I never liked trueflames that much, its very hard indeed for my sneaky barbarian mage guy to sneak with the damned sword letting every half guar smuggler know im coming within a 20 feet radius of light, and i like daggers better, plus it was very heavy, and powerful enough in enchantments to amke me afraid of reflections.
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treydog |
Dec 9 2006, 03:31 AM
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Master
Joined: 13-February 05
From: The Smoky Mountains
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As I calmed myself from the after-effects of the duel with Karrod, what I thought of as the rational part of my mind took over. Even though I now possibly possessed two pieces of the sword of Nerevar, it was not really proof of anything. I knew, as Karrod did not, that I had beaten him through trickery. Perhaps his father had spoken some appropriate-sounding words when he passed the Dwemer sword along. But what would be more natural than to add a suitable story to an ancient weapon? Half the swords in Tamriel probably had impressive stories to go with them- and more than half of those stories were romantic nonsense. Just because I now held two fragments of a sword that might have once belonged to Nerevar did not mean that I was his reincarnation. I also had the Dagger of Symmachus- that did not make me Helseth’s father. What I needed to do was put the sword aside and concentrate on stopping Almalexia. Unfortunately, that meant I was going to have to see her again in order to ask about Sotha Sil, the missing member of the Tribunal.
I have mentioned before that I was not fond of the gods. Almalexia in particular irked me with her manipulations and rationalizations and self-serving lies. But what really annoyed me was her single-mindedness. She knew what she wanted and she did not want to hear about anything else. Such was my experience when I went to ask her about Sotha Sil and the fabricants. As before, she floated in the center of the dome of her Temple, her face frozen in statue-like stillness. When she saw me she spoke immediately, her eyes seeming to burn with some fevered imagining,
“You were to forge the blade of Nerevar. Have you succeeded? How I long to see Trueflame burning once again alongside Hopesfire. Return to me when you hold the blade in your hands.”
With that, her eyes turned inward and she would say no more. With great effort, I restrained my desire to punch the bland masks of the Ordinators and left the Temple.
Crazy though she undoubtedly was, Almalexia had said that all the parts of the sword were in Mournhold, and she had been correct so far. From what I could see, only one more piece was still missing. And that was wonderful, except for the fact that it could be anywhere in or under the city. And even though I had covered a fair amount of the buried ruins, a broken sword blade was easy to overlook. On the plus side, the metal was exotic, the sort of thing someone would collect, even if they were unsure of its function or origin. I cast about in my mind, trying to determine who I knew that might be versed in the sort of historic arcana that could provide a clue as to the whereabouts of the missing piece. As I considered the problem, my hand idly brushed the hilt of the Dagger of Symmachus. Thinking of the old Dunmer general inevitably caused me to think of Barenziah, and those thoughts led me to her biographer and friend- Plitinius Mero. Biographer, friend, and…historian. If anyone might know something of the blade of Nerevar, it would be the old Imperial writer. I returned to the Palace courtyard, where he had set up a portable writing desk and was chewing thoughtfully on the end of a quill pen. Upon my approach, his eyes brightened and he threw down the quill and bounded to his feet.
“You are to be congratulated, I hear! To have defeated Karrod is quite a feat of arms, my boy! I imagine the bards are composing songs about it even now. They’ll get it wrong, of course; they always do- sacrificing historical accuracy for a good story and to make a better rhyme….”
When he paused for breath, I jumped in and said,
“Actually, it was history about which I wished to speak with you- rather ancient history, to be honest.”
When he signaled his interest, I drew out the pieces of the sword that might once have been Trueflame and explained that I sought the last one. As I finished, Plitinius’ eyes took on a faraway look and he spoke softly, almost to himself:
“An attempt to reforge the blade of Nerevar. Interesting....”
He paused for a long moment and then came back to himself and added,
“I wish I knew where to tell you to look, but my knowledge of the blade is somewhat limited. Perhaps you'd do better speaking with Torasa Aram, the curator at the Museum of Artifacts. Her knowledge is extensive when it comes to unique items. Let me know what you discover. This could be quite a story.”
I had seen the Museum- had, in fact, watched Salas Valor fall upon his sword just outside the front door of the building not so long ago. But for some reason, I had never ventured inside- which was decidedly odd for someone who considered himself a thief. Of course, Plitinius himself had identified one of the main problems- unique items are not the best choice for a thief who wants to live a long and prosperous life. The risk of obtaining such is usually extremely high, and the reward is only a fraction of the true value. And you are going to always be at the mercy of anyone who knows that you are the one who stole the great and valuable treasure of the Cult of the Three-legged Lizard people or whatever. So, I had not visited the Museum, but now I could remedy that oversight.
The first thing I noticed upon entering the Museum was that they seemed to be long on display space and short on items to display. There was a massive hammer and a worn book, and- well, that was about it. Maybe some more desperate or less introspective thief had already paid them a visit, in which case I really did not want to return to the scene of the crime, even if it hadn’t been my crime. The second thing I saw was a sharp-featured Dunmeri who bore down upon me with all the grace and fierceness of an Imperial warship. She appraised me with a quick eye and apparently decided I was not the sort of patron she wanted on the premises- at least that was how I interpreted her dismissive sniff. Putting on my blandest expression, I introduced myself and explained that I was searching for the remains of Nerevar’s sword. I also mentioned that Plitinius Mero had sent me to the Museum, which revelation seemed to improve the elf’s attitude considerably.
She acknowledged my words and stated that she was Torasa Aram, the curator of the Museum. My story about Trueflame had clearly excited her interest, as she replied,
“The pieces of the Blade of Nerevar here in Mournhold? Now there's something I'd like to get my hands on for the Museum. I can't say that I have seen any that I know of, but I do have one piece from roughly the same time, and it seems to be of Dwemer construction.”
She frowned and continued,
“I don't even have it on display, because I haven't been able to positively identify it yet. It's a shield of Dwemer make, but not traditional in any sense of the word. The pieces of it just don't seem to match, and I've wondered if it isn't some sort of a fake. I suppose I might be able to part with it, but I'll need some compensation.”
The hope that I had felt when she first mentioned a piece of the right vintage was crushed by her description of the artifact. I was seeking a sword, not a shield. Still, it probably would not hurt to look at the blasted thing and it would probably make her feel better. Therefore, I asked if I might examine the piece in question- carefully, of course, and under supervision. She escorted me to a locked storage area and opened the door to reveal the sort of amalgam of odds and ends one might expect in such a place. One table held a heavy Dwemer shield, just as she had described, complete with an odd spike or protrusion of some other metal which seemed to be jammed into the center. And I recognized that peculiar metal- it was the same as the two pieces I had gotten from Almalexia and Karrod.
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The dreams down here aren't broken, nah, they're walkin' with a limp...
The best-dressed newt in Mournhold.
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treydog |
Dec 10 2006, 05:26 PM
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Master
Joined: 13-February 05
From: The Smoky Mountains
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I believed that the Dwemer shield contained the last missing piece of the sword, but I couldn’t very well start wrenching at the artifact in front of Torasa Aram. She had, however, mentioned that she might be willing to let it go- for “suitable compensation.” The only question now was what she might consider suitable. The rattle of the interminable ash-storm outside reminded me that time was not a luxury I enjoyed and that I would have to forgo the pleasure of a long session of haggling. Therefore I rather bluntly asked,
“What sort of ‘compensation’ do you have in mind? I am not wealthy, but I might be able to donate some gold to the Museum….”
She smiled the contented smile of an angler who knows that the fish has taken the bait and dismissed my offer of gold with a wave.
“Generally, gold will not buy the sort of thing we seek. I would prefer new pieces for the Museum of Artifacts. Unique items, armor and weapons of lore--you know the stuff. If you would be willing to donate a couple to the Museum, I'd be willing to part with the shield.”
My heart sank once more. My reasons for not wanting to rob the Museum were even more to the point when it came to obtaining the kind of items Torasa was talking about. Assuming you could determine the location of a legendary weapon or piece of armor, chances were good that someone or something was guarding it and would not willingly part with it, no matter how noble your cause. And I simply did not have time to go all across Tamriel, sticking my nose into tombs and barrows, where I would no doubt find lots of undead, spider-webs, and corroded metal that might once have been valuable. Still, I had acquired a few odd pieces that I might be able to palm off… ah- donate to the Museum. Like many thieves, I had an encyclopedic knowledge of every coin, gem, and other bit of plunder I had amassed- and usually a good memory of from whence it had come. After mentally riffling through my catalog of loot, I thought of one possibility- the peculiar sword I had received from Sunel Hlas. Not wishing to appear too eager, I slowly said,
“Well, I might have one thing. It’s a two-handed sword with a regular edge on one side and saw-toothed on the other. It has some rather powerful and peculiar enchantments….”
Torasa stopped me with a firm nod and said,
“Oh yes! The Bipolar Blade. Legend has it that a nobleman sank his fortune into creating a blade of supreme power. Two smiths on opposite ends of Tamriel created each half of the blade, unaware of the other, with the hope that no one man, save the owner of the blade, would know its true power. Unfortunately, the smiths were not given enough instruction, and created halves with enchantments that completely negated each other. Do you wish to part with it, Trey? It is just the sort of item we are seeking.”
When I allowed that I would be willing to consider donating the sword, Torasa beamed at me and said,
“Wonderful! Do you have it with you? I would like to examine it before making a final decision.”
When I admitted that the sword was, in fact, wrapped up in some old sacks and hidden under a bed in the Winged Guar, the Dunmer was scandalized.
“Oh dear! That is no way to treat a precious artifact! Please, I must insist that you bring it to me at once. Who knows what might happen to it? It could be stolen or lost again. Don’t just stand there like a lout- go, go!”
I did not have the heart to tell her that I actually had rather hoped the peculiar sword would be stolen- it gave me chills just to handle the blasted thing. But, if it was safe in the Museum, it would not be able to insinuate itself into my mind and I would not have to feel guilty about spurning Sunel’s gift.
As I passed through the bar of the Winged Guar, Ra’Tesh gave me a friendly wave and called,
“One has heard you defeated Karrod, but he was not too badly damaged. This is a good thing.”
That was a relief- there were few people in Mournhold upon whom I could depend, and Ra’Tesh was one of them. I acknowledged his greeting with a promise to tell him all about it and went to my room to retrieve the odd sword. Interestingly, when I actually returned with the Bipolar Blade, Torasa’s earlier enthusiasm seemed to have waned somewhat. She handled the sword as if it was a dead rodent she had discovered in her dresser and rather stiffly said,
“Yes, well. It will take up a place in our collection. Likely a place towards the back. Thank you, Trey, I’m sure.”
Although her cool response to my generosity gave me no great hope, I nevertheless asked,
“Now, about that Dwemer shield…?”
Torasa shook her head with an air of finality.
“While I appreciate your- erm- kindness in donating the Bipolar Blade, we are really looking for something with more, well- presence, is the word, I suppose. Something like the Lord’s Mail or Chrysamere, with a bl-, um storied history.”
I did not even try to argue- did not try to tell her that I thought all I was likely to do in a search for one of those things was to add my bones to the “storied” history of the artifact in question. The situation was becoming desperate and I might have to consider desperate measures. As I contemplated the chances of a successful theft of the shield (not good, given the interest I had just shown in the artifact), I felt something digging into my ribs and reached down to shift the irritating object. My hand closed on the hilt of a dagger and I had a sudden inspiration. 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.
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The dreams down here aren't broken, nah, they're walkin' with a limp...
The best-dressed newt in Mournhold.
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Soulseeker3.0 |
Dec 10 2006, 07:06 PM
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Master
Joined: 18-February 05
From: From "not where you are"-ville
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QUOTE(The Metal Mallet @ Dec 10 2006, 10:59 AM) I look forward to seeing what Trey does with the "blade".
aye, as will I. Love it Trey. keep up the good work.
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(linky)
SKAThis was pretty unusual, because most children at his age wanted to become great warriors, known all through time as saviors of, well, anything - Toroabok
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Wraithguard |
Dec 10 2006, 07:25 PM
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Associate
Joined: 29-October 06
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noooooooooo dont give the dagger, keep the dagger, daggers are you friends, go find some other item, dont sell the dagger sell a claymore or something huge and wihtout the elegeance of a dagger. Go get crysamere, or go fight umbra for his sword, join the imp cult and get the ice blade. i liek daggers please trey, the ash storm can wait.......ok if you must.......give the dagger but only if you steal it back ok......
Judgin from treys character up to this point i bet i know what he'll do with trueflame when he finish tribunal, but im not telling
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