The Story of Trey- Chapter 2 Options

[McBadgere]

Ah... ...I do love them fetch/carry/kill early missions for the guilds... ...

Skooma addicted Blades Boss?™... ...Blimey...Wouldn't have happened in my day... ...

Proper loved the trip around Balmora and the various Things™ and People™ therein...

Awesome writing!!!...Awesome story!!...

Nice one!!..

*Applauds heartily*...

[Grits]

Trey’s introduction to the Mages Guild has been my favorite part so far. His wry observations had me grinning. A safe spot for his books, yay! Trey’s nostalgia for his first sword is endearing.

[mplantinga]

My favorite line in this post was definitely "smart as a whip and dumb as a brick"; it's amusing to think of how people looking for specific solutions to a problem can fail the see the obvious alternatives.

Trey's highly poignant question about Caius and his skooma problem was also quite intriguing. It did take me a while during my first playthrough to appreciate the complexity of Caius' character.

[treydog]

Let’s see- what has happened since I last did anything with this? No- it is too much- I will sum up... (gratuitous Princess Bride quote).

We have a “Ghost Cat” in the garage, which has had kittens- which we have also not seen. The cat we have seen- she is a feral who was coming around during the snows of March. And it was clear she and a tom had become “more than just good friends”. So- into the garage with you until we can get this sorted.

Then the gable vent started falling off one end of the house- which has allowed some undetermined type and number of critters into the attic- the one of which managed to fall down inside the wall of the den. Which sent one of the indoor cats into a frenzy.

Otherwise, work is easy- but made more difficult by the new crop of petty tyrants wanting to “put their stamp on the organization.”

A person more clever than I would have retreated into the safety of their writing. But- well- see the “more clever than I” part…. But I have neglected this, and you, for too long, so let me fix that.

@hazmick- Yes, Trey can’t help but pick up anything that isn’t nailed down… um… any random plants he happens across…. And he will occasionally color his memories with the greater wisdom of having survived the events- Caius being a good example.

@McBadgere- He has not dodged all the Fed-Ex missions yet. And Caius remains one of the best NPCs Bethesda ever created. And his influence on Trey is clear in that one of the not-yet-even-a-tiny-glimmer-in-his-imagination daughters is named “Caia”. Thank you, my friend.

@Grits- The guilds in Morrowind have a fair amount of backstory built in… and Trey wishes he could be an “academic,” even as he sees the pitfalls of that path… He very much has my own Southern “sense of place.” The desire for a space which is his own- preferably without straw and horse… byproduct… is quite strong.

@mplantinga- He has a wonderful facility to spot the inconsistencies of others- while being completely oblivious to his own…. And I agree- when I was first playing, I thought Morrowind was just another linear “CRPG”. It was only later that I began to see the depth…

Thanks, everyone for reading and for commenting.


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Worn out from my wandering about Balmora and from speculating about what this forced enrolment in the Blades could mean for my future- as in, did I have a future? I prepared to sleep in a real bed for the only second time in my memory. As I divested myself of armor, weapons, and other gear, I thought about ways to improve my skills. Caius had mentioned trainers, and I knew that the guilds provided such services, as well. But training cost money, of which I had very little. Another problem I had with the idea of using a trainer was that to do so would reveal my weaknesses. Yes, the training would improve the weak areas, but the trainer would always be better than me and, more important, would KNOW what my weak spots were. That was a greater concern than lack of funds; I did not want anyone to know too much about me. With all these thoughts swirling in my brain, I settled in at the table with my ingredients and began working on potions. That required concentration and always calmed me. Working in the quiet bustle of the Mages Guild, I had soon decanted a number of simple restoratives. They were not master quality by any means, but they were mine. With my thoughts finally calmed to a quiet murmur, I went to bed.

How long it was before something disturbed me, I don't know. What I do know is that I was sound asleep one minute and standing beside the bed, sword in hand, the next. I have always had a "danger sense" that told me when trouble was near. Unfortunately, it was never completely reliable. I scanned the room and saw nothing, but the prickling at the back of my neck did not go away. Deciding that it was better to look foolish than to be taken by surprise, I donned my armor and began to search the guild house. I had just reached the ground floor landing when a dark figure seemed to materialize out of the shadows, with a silver dagger in its hand. As my attacker came into the brighter light of the corridor, I realized that his armor was made of a light-absorbing material. I had no time to notice anything more, as he attacked with a ferocity I had never before encountered. I was again able to use the greater reach of my longsword to advantage, keeping away from many of his attacks. Still, a significant number got through, and I was forced to become more defensive. Realizing that I must do something to buy a breathing space, I launched a flurry of strokes that made up in energy what they lacked in style. As my opponent danced back to get out of range, I quickly downed one of the Restore Health potions Ajira had given me.

With renewed vigor, I was able to press the dark-clad knife-wielder into a corner and finish him. During the entire fight, which raged up and down the front hallway, not one of the resident mages came to my aid. Indeed, none of them even came to see what was causing the commotion. While I can understand being engrossed in one's studies, that struck me as somewhat extreme. Shaking my head at the quirks of mages, I bent to examine the body of my attacker. The armor was of very high quality; in addition to its light-absorbing properties, it also was designed to dampen sound. Despite its light weight, it was quite strong, capable of stopping or turning most blows. All this, plus the tattoo of a black spider on the dead man's left shoulder blade, pointed to only one conclusion- this was a member of the Dark Brotherhood.

Even more of a rumor than the Blades, the Dark Brotherhood was reputed to have been involved in every political upheaval in the Empire over the last 150 years. No one knew who they were or where they were based; it was said that anyone foolish or desperate enough to want to contact them merely had to speak to certain bartenders or traders and a letter would be delivered under cover of darkness. The letter would direct the "client" to leave a sum of gold and a scrap of paper with the name of the target in some out-of-the-way locale. If a watcher was set to see who picked up the gold, no one would appear. Or, so some said, the gold would be gone and the watcher found murdered, a note pinned to his chest, saying, "You paid for an assassination. You got one. Do not attempt to contact us again." All of which was very interesting, but did nothing to explain why an assassin had come after me. I was a nobody from nowhere and suddenly people were taking far too great an interest in me. I may have dreamed of having fame someday, but this was not the sort of recognition I had hoped for.

Although I had no doubt annoyed a number of people, I couldn't think of anyone who was either politically connected enough or wealthy enough to be able to use the Dark Brotherhood. The only good news was that they had miscalculated. They had only sent one attacker, and a clearly inexperienced one at that. I knew that he was inexperienced for two reasons- first, he had made a noise that alerted me; second, I was still alive. In fact, the client had made another mistake- I now had a much better set of armor than I could have otherwise afforded. And now I knew I would need it.

Unable to think of anything else to do, I cleaned and repaired my equipment (including my new armor), and went back to catch up on my interrupted rest. All the swordsmanship and running and alchemy must have paid off. When I awoke I felt more confident, and as if I were faster and more nimble. I was going to have to talk to someone about this attack, but who? For anyone else, Caius would have been a logical choice, or perhaps even an Imperial guard. But I wanted to stay as far away from Caius and the Imperial Legion as I could. Maybe Sugar-Lips could give me some advice- after all, the Thieves Guild understood the extra-legal business world as well as anyone. First, though, I decided to see if Ajira had a better assignment for me than assistant-plant gatherer. When I reached her, she was in a state of high agitation. I have to tell you, it is more than a bit unsettling to watch a 5-and a-half foot tall cat lashing her tail and sheathing and unsheathing her claws. Apparently, I was not the only one who had been visited in the night.

Ajira was sure that she knew who the culprit was in her case, though. Her alchemical reports on mushrooms and flowers had been stolen; she was sure her rival apprentice, Galbedir, was behind it. Ajira also knew that Galbedir had not left the guild hall, so the reports had to be somewhere inside. After calming the frantic Khajiit, I made a systematic search, with positive results. Galbedir may have been a good enchanter, but she was lousy at hiding things, particularly from someone like me, whose business was finding hidden treasures. In a few minutes, I returned the reports to Ajira and received a number of high-quality potions in gratitude. Much as I appreciated the potions, this constant bickering and infighting was beginning to wear on me; I hoped that when I achieved sufficient rank, I could leave it behind. Meanwhile, I decided that I would go see Sugar-Lips about the assassination attempt and about any sort of paying job she might have lined up. I had this really stylish black armor I wanted to test out (all except the helmet- I have never been able to stand wearing anything that covers my face).

Sugar-Lips wasn't all that interested in the assassination attempt- her attitude was that any problems I brought to Balmora with me were my own. But in the meantime, would I be interested in doing a job for her?

"Absolutely. Tell me what you need," I said.

It seems that a "friend" of Sugar-Lips needed a diamond. A certain merchant in Balmora, Nalcarya of White Haven, had a stock of diamonds. Of course, any diamond would do; it was up to me to find it. Nalcarya's shop was in the wealthy section of town, so I decided to check it out after I sold my chitin armor to Meldor. The sword I was sentimental about; the armor was just that much extra weight to lug around. I needed cash more than a spare set of armor, particularly if the Dark Brotherhood was after me.

Nalcarya's shop was like paradise- she had the best alchemy equipment I had ever seen, as well as rare and exotic ingredients. No wonder Sugar-Lips sent me here to look for a diamond. Nalcarya also had a guard to keep an eye on all that expensive alchemy gear. As I looked around the shop, I saw two diamonds on a shelf just to the left of where she was working and shook my head. That just wasn't going to happen. I knew my limitations, and trying to sneak one of those stones off the shelf right in front of her was way beyond my skills. Maybe if I could create a diversion and get her to go somewhere else for a minute? Maybe yell "Fire" or something? Somehow I had the feeling she had heard that one before, so it would have to be something else. Before I got into too much of a sweat, I decided to check the rest of the shop. Every now and then, the voices in your head give good advice; usually just often enough that you're afraid to tell them to shut up.

[treydog]

In an upstairs bedroom, on a shelf, was a small, locked chest. The lock wasn't very good. I know, because I tested the lock with my handy lock pick, and it popped right open. And inside the unlocked chest on the shelf in the bedroom were three diamonds. It really wouldn't be safe to leave such nice stones in such an insecure place, so I took them for safekeeping. Feeling that I had done my civic duty, I got out of there. Slowly. If you run, someone will chase you just to find out why you're running. And as I hit the street, I got the feeling, the high from walking on the edge, testing the limits. That was the thing I loved about being a thief. When I was in the midst of successful job, I got a thrill that I never got when I was in a fight. In fights, I was just scared and mad and trying to stay alive. Stealing, though, was winning without resorting to violence. Sugar-Lips was going to have her diamond, and there were two more just for me. When I got back to the South Wall, I got a bit of a letdown; Sugar-Lips' "friend" hadn't paid yet, so all I got was a Potion of Invisibility. I could have gotten one of those from the Mage Guild or even made it myself. I still needed cash, so I decided to try for a different job, preferably one that paid in coin.

Sugar-Lips was happy to oblige- she wanted the key to the upper section of Nerano Manor. Meanwhile, she promoted me from Toad to Wet Ear, yet another less than flattering name. As to the key, there were known to be two; one was carried by Ondres Nerano himself, the other by his servant, Sovor Trandel. Trying to get the key from Nerano didn't seem like a winning idea, so I asked about Sovor Trandel. The report was that Trandel could usually be found hanging out in the basement of the Council Club, drinking with his buddies. I had heard something about the Council Club, but couldn't remember what. I had a feeling that it was probably important. That was another time I should have listened to the voice inside of my head.

I didn't really trust my powers of persuasion alone to get the Nerano Manor key from Sovor Trandel, nor did I think I was skilled enough to pick his pocket. And I absolutely wasn't going to bat my eyelashes at him. That left one other option- money. As I went back to the Mage Guild to sell my new diamonds to Ajira, I remembered that the Khajiit alchemist had mentioned something called Telvanni Bug Musk that could improve almost anyone's attitude toward the wearer. Unfortunately, she didn't have any and there were no known Telvanni in Balmora. Ajira thought Nalcarya might stock the substance, but she wasn't sure. Nalcarya, from whom I had just stolen three diamonds? I enjoyed the thrill of larceny, but not that much. Showing up for a second visit right after something valuable had disappeared was not my idea of the blueprint for a long, successful career. No, I was just going to have to try to manage with good, old-fashioned bribery. I had accumulated a little over 500 drakes from my various enterprises and hoped it would be enough. Trandel was a servant, but he was a servant in a manor house. Offer too little and he would be insulted; offer too much and I would be wasting precious funds. I hoped Sugar-Lips would pay enough to cover my expenses plus a little extra- preferably in cash instead of potions.

So, pockets jingling with bribe money, I headed off to the Council Club. There was something about the place that I was supposed to know, but I just couldn't lay a hand to it. As a thief, everything you hear has significance. You may not recognize the significance when you hear it, but you file it away until enough other pieces become available. It is of particular importance to remember the names of people, places, and organizations- and how they relate to one another. The trouble is, you don't want to write it all down- a notebook filled with that kind of information is guaranteed to get you shortened by a head, regardless of who finds it on you. Meanwhile, I had a servant to bribe.

I breezed into the Council Club and was rather rudely greeted by the fellow at the door, who was working at repairing weapons. "Odd place to set up a smithy," I thought, but ignored him and went downstairs. To put it mildly, the customers and staff of the Council Club were not pleased to see me. As I entered from the stairs, all conversation stopped and hands reached for sword and dagger hilts. Even the bartender reached down below the bar, where I was willing to bet he had a loaded crossbow. And I was further willing to bet he wasn't planning to shoot any of his frequent customers. I decided to play it dumb- always a natural choice for me, since it required minimal acting- and so sauntered up to a well-dressed Dunmer.

"Buy you a drink?" I asked in a slightly slurred voice that implied I had already had a few.

He didn't appear to like me very much, but he was willing to drink if I was willing to buy, so we got along.

"Nice outfit," I offered, "You must be one of the wealthy merch-, merk-, mer-, hic-, traders here in town." He rolled his eyes and muttered something that sounded like, "N'Wah" under his breath. Aloud he said, "No, you lout, I have the honor of being the head servant of Ondres Nerano."

"Head servant, huh? So you like wash his hair and stuff?"

"S'wit! I am the chief servant for his manor house! I keep everything running smoothly. He has entrusted me with a key to the manor so that I can perform my duties even in his absence!"

"A key? I bet a key to a place like that is really a work of art in itself. Wouldn't mind having a look around one of those fancy houses sometime. Say, your glass is empty there, Chief. Lemme get that for you."

And so it went for 30 tedious minutes. Trandel couldn't stand me, but he was so full of his own importance that he enjoyed having a captive audience that was too stupid to even recognize his insults. Finally judging that he had enough in him to be suggestible, but not so much that he would be snoring on the table, I took out two 50-drake pieces and began idly playing with them.

"Sure would like to see inside one of those places," I said wistfully. "Must be as good as the Imperial Palace at Cyrodiil."

His eyes following the coins around the table, Trandel licked his lips and said, "It would be the end of my job if I brought an outlander into Master Nerano's home." With a casual flick, I slid the 100 drakes across the table, and pulled out another pair of 50s, which I rolled across my knuckles.

"Oh, I wouldn't want to disturb Master Nerano. I wouldn't take a peek unless he was on one of those trips out of town. And I wouldn't expect you to give me a tour, Chief; I'd just let myself in and back out. Zip, zip. Nobody the wiser."

The servant mopped his brow and said, "I couldn't possibly let you wander about unsupervised..."

The second 100 followed the first and I laid another 100 drakes in front of me. "Look, Chief. Fun is fun, but I don't need anybody jogging my elbow." With that, I stood up and made as if to pick up the last 100 drakes.

"Wait!" Trandel put his hand down over the coins. "It isn't like Nerano pays me enough anyway. Look, here's the key. Just don't tell anyone where you got it."

So, 300 drakes lighter and one key heavier, I left the Council Club and started to head over to see Sugar-Lips. But before turning to the bridge, I stopped. I had a key to Nerano Manor in my pocket. Nerano Manor, which was just a couple of streets over. It would be kind of interesting to see how the other half lived. A quick look wouldn't hurt. And even though I was willing to work for the Guild, I was still an independent at heart. Walking like I belonged there, I made straight for Nerano Manor. I walked in the middle of the street, greeted everyone I passed, was even pleasant to the guards. You can skulk in the shadows if you like, and sometimes there are good reasons for doing so. Of course, if anyone sees you, it will be obvious that you aren't just playing hide'n'seek with the grandchildren. When you are approaching a target, it is best to be so conspicuous that no one thinks you have anything to hide. "Trey? Oh, yes, he was here. We must have talked about my vegetable garden for 15 minutes. Nice boy, very polite. Seemed to know a lot about fertilizer. Don't know why young people today go for all that black clothing, though."

The key worked like a charm and I had the upper floors of Nerano Manor to myself. I moved further up, on the assumption that the wealthier one is, the higher up he lives. I found a large, locked chest on the floor and a smaller chest, locked AND trapped, on a shelf. My probe disarmed the trap and I cast Tower Key to fox the lock. Inside was 50 drakes- a partial repayment of my bribe money to Trandel. I picked the less-complex lock on the larger chest, which must have served as a liquor cabinet. Like the true connoisseur thief I was, I left the cheap stuff and took two bottles of vintage Cyrodiilic brandy. Small, saleable, and expensive- three of my favorite words. Deciding not to press my luck, I left the way I had come, thoughtfully relocking the door.

Back at the South Wall, Sugar-Lips gave me 500 septims for the key. This was more like it; I was finally starting to see a profit. Feeling good about my prospects, I stepped out into the Balmora to spend some of my earnings. All that gold was burning a hole in my pocket, so I decided to invest in some new alchemy apparatus and ingredients. I knew Nalcarya's shop had some really high-quality equipment, but I thought it might be better to try Ajira first. She had every reason to like me and give me the best prices possible. Maybe I could even trade the brandy. As it turned out, Ajira had a very fine Masters mortar & pestle that I couldn't afford. However, she also had a Journeyman-quality retort and alembic. The calcinator was of the lowest quality, and I decided I could do without it. The retort would enhance the potency and duration of all positive effects and the alembic would reduce the negative effects of my potions. I purchased both, along with a few ingredients, and unloaded the brandy. Then, just to complete the set, I went to see if Nalcarya had a journeyman-level mortar & pestle. She did and she gouged me on the price, so I didn't feel so bad about the diamonds. Along with a variety of other things, I needed to work on my haggling skills. The sad fact is, when you become accustomed to "shopping" when the store-keeper isn't around, your negotiating skills get rusty. Anyway, I headed back to the Mage Guild for a session of potion-making. I took my original mortar & pestle to store alongside the saber. Some things you just don't throw away.

You may recall that I said alchemy helps to concentrate my thoughts. As I ground and measured and mixed and heated, I allowed my mind to wander back to various conversations from earlier in the day and finally remembered why a thief needs to keep a running scorecard in his head of who's who. At some point, Meldor had been talking about the turf war between the Thieves Guild and the Camonna Tong and how it was hurting business- driving up prices and reducing profits. And then he had said, "The Camonna Tong is a bad bunch. In Balmora, they all hang out in that corner club near the strider port, the Council Club. Watch yourself if you go in there." Oh, absolutely. I would watch myself. I would watch myself act like a drunk with gold spilling from his pockets, watch myself waltz right into the base of operations of the criminal competition, watch myself hang a big sign around my neck that said, "Please kill me." Oh, blessed Kynareth, save me from myself.

You ever have one of those days where you wake up to an assassination attempt, spit in the eye of the local criminal organization, and then spend most of your getaway money on toys? And you get a feeling that says, "This day could not possibly get any worse." Track that feeling down and strangle it. It can always get worse.

[ArtemisNoir]

"Deciding not to press my luck, I left the way I had come, thoughtfully relocking the door. "


Love that line!

Great couple of chapters, and you are now making me think about reinstalling Morrowind with MGSO on my new computer... *sigh*

[treydog]

@ArtemisNoir2- He does try to prevent crime- at least by other people. Leaving the door hanging open would just be... wrong. And reading back over the story has the same effect on me- of course the disk is right here on the desk... and the saved games are on the external hard drive....

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You don't always see trouble coming, no matter how observant you are. And sometimes, even though you recognize that trouble is getting ready to pay a visit, you don't know what form it is going to take. Maybe I should just tell you what happened, so you will see what I mean. Needing to take a walk- perhaps off of a high cliff- to clear my head, I stepped out of the Mages Guild. As I stood there, pondering the idea of maybe dyeing my hair and skin and changing my name to Schlamm of Black Marsh, Heddvild the Barbarian stopped to speak to me. That in itself was a surprise- I didn't think she much liked me. Of course, as far as I could tell, she didn't much like anyone. As her name suggested, Heddvild was a Nord- in this case a female barbarian. Despite her graying hair, I had the feeling she could snap my spine like a toothpick and not even muss her armor. But all she wanted was to pass on a message; so she wasn't the threat. But the message ... It seemed that Larrius Varro, the Legion Champion at Fort Moonmoth, wanted to talk to me about some unspecified subject. Moonmoth was the Legion garrison just outside of Balmora; I had passed it on my way into town.

Every time someone from the Empire wanted to talk to me, it was something I didn't like. I had been: arrested, imprisoned, put into a magical sleep, deported, asked to execute a murderer, and forcibly recruited into the Blades. All of those things were the Empire at work. And now the head of an Imperial Legion fort wanted to speak to me "about something." My brain scrabbled for an escape like a rat in the bottom of a kettle. Imperial Legion, Blades, Camonna Tong, the Dark Brotherhood- danger on every side. Finally, I calmed down. After all, maybe this Varro just wanted to give me a friendly warning; maybe Caius had put him up to it just to remind me that the Empire had a long reach. So I would be a good boy and go see what the nice Imperial Legion thug had to say. First, though, I would see if I could find out anything about Larrius Varro. It was obvious he knew something about me- he had asked for me by name, after all. So I needed to see what I could find out to shift the balance back my way just a bit.

Heddvild was still standing there, and I realized that all of this panicking, planning, and resolving had only taken a few seconds. Since she had passed the message, she might be a good starting place for background on Varro. Her response was interesting. It turned out that Larrius Varro was not a typical Legion strong-arm type. He took the concepts of knighthood and honor seriously. He had actually sworn an oath to clean up corruption. This might be an interesting conversation. Of course, it might go something like- "I have vowed to clean up the corruption here, and I'm starting with you." Still- an honest Legion officer was something I just had to see; kind of like going to the circus.

Fort Moonmoth was just outside of town, but I still made sure that I was fully armed and armored. It only takes one assassination attempt to make me jumpy. And if they were going to throw me in a cell again...well, they could try. Upon reaching the fort, I ignored all the guards and merchants and went straight to the officers' quarters, where I found Varro. For his part, the Legion Champion did an excellent job of appearing unimpressed by me. He explained that he had "learned a bit about my situation" and wanted to tell me a "little story," after which I could ask questions. He also had a "little present" for me from the Emperor, but he didn't know what it was and couldn't remember where he had put it. Maybe after I listened to his story and did some things, he would be able to remember. A "little present" from the Emperor? Like maybe a poisoned dagger between the ribs, along with a tasteful thank-you note, on quality paper? Still, there was something compelling about Varro. We were on opposite sides of almost everything, but I had to respect him. He was the most driven individual I had ever met. He was the kind of man the Emperor sent in when he wanted results and right now. Therefore, I agreed to hear the story. If Varro considered it important enough, there had to be something to it I could turn to my advantage.

It seemed that there was a corrupt magistrate in Balmora who was taking bribes to let criminals go. And an officer who was trying to stop it, but couldn't because the magistrate had powerful friends to protect him. But then the officer realized that nobody was protecting the "bad people" who were paying the bribes. If the "bad people" weren't around anymore, the problem would be solved.

He concluded, "So the honest officer prayed for a bloodbath to wash the bad people away."

The way he told the story, without expression, in a flat voice, was more frightening than if he had yelled and thrown things. He was as serious and unstoppable as a landslide. Because I was already in so deep, and yes, because I was curious, I asked about the "bad people."

"Oh, the bad people are the Camonna Tong. But nobody will tell me who is in the Camonna Tong, because I'm an officer and telling an officer anything is against the code. But the Thieves Guild knows, and they would tell you. I do know there are five Camonna Tong members in Balmora- a scout, a pawnbroker, a savant, a thief, and a smith."

Then, because I don't know how to stop when I'm behind, I asked what he meant about a "bloodbath." He explained that it would be wonderful if the bad people "went away" and weren't able to pay any more bribes. Had I said he was driven? That was the wrong word- he was absolutely insane. He wanted me, ME- to go up against five members of the Camonna Tong. By myself. Discreetly. I immediately started thinking about how I could get away from Balmora and from Varro. He must have read my mind, because he then mentioned that if I headed toward Hla Oad, I should be careful. It seemed that there was a Nord bandit robbing and killing travelers over that way. If I happened to fix that little problem, Varro would be glad to hear about it.

What was it with these Imperial types that they all thought I was some kind of black-clad, sword-wielding, sneaky hired killer? Well, besides the Dark Brotherhood armor. And the magic sword. And the dead smugglers in Addamasartus. And Adanumuran. And the little fact that I was a thief. Okay, fine. But still... Look, I was a thief- I stole money or property. My victims could always get more of either. But if you stole someone's life, how did they replace that?

With the Imperial Legion, the Blades, the Dark Brotherhood, the Camonna Tong, and who knew who else taking such an interest in me, I decided that it was time to move again. But first, because it is always a good idea to know the competition, I would take Larrius Varro's advice and ask around the Thieves Guild to find out who was in the Camonna Tong. The Thieves might not be too concerned about my Dark Brotherhood problem, but they were certainly quite interested in Camonna. With that I mind I went to Sottilde and she gave me all the information I wanted and more: she identified all five members of the Camonna Tong for me. And one of them, the savant, was Sovor Trandel. That's right, Sovor Trandel. Who now had 300 drakes of my getaway money sitting in his pocket. There wasn't a thing I could do about that- if you chase after the money you just lost, you will miss an opportunity to make more. And even more important- don't ever make it personal. Still, it was hard to follow my own advice this time

[Grits]

treydog, it has been marvelous fun catching up with Trey’s stories. By now I imagine that your ghost kittens have made an appearance? Grits World is presently awash in baby bunnies, outdoors where they belong, thank goodness. And eating my flowers of course.


When I awoke I felt more confident, and as if I were faster and more nimble.

Nice! I also loved that no mages came to check on the raging battle up and down the hallway.

Stealing, though, was winning without resorting to violence.

What a very Trey observation. Oh my goodness, his ‘drunken’ conversation with Trandel had me rolling.

Larrius Varro sounds deeply frightening. Yikes, Trandel is the savant?! This just keeps getting better and better!!

This post has been edited by Grits: May 22 2015, 07:36 PM

[mALX]

It is killing me to miss these early chapters in the Treydog story. Blood on the Moon was the first fanfic I ever read, and learning about the background and these earlier times has been something I've wanted to do for so long! So glad you are writing again, I hope one day to be reading again so I can catch all these early chapters!

[treydog]

So I was surfing around, looking to see where this story might still reside on the web… and I found a Russian(!) site with the entirety, including the long-lost chapter opening quotes. Not going to ask too many questions- I just transcribed those missing bits and moved right along.

@Grits- Yes, our invisible kittens have become visible. Heartbreakingly cute little devils- at least 2 orange tabby and one solid black one. The orange ones are already showing the cattitude for which they are famous…

Because so few characters in Morrowind have an “alarm” code for most anything except pickpocketing or direct attacks, I decided to have fun with it and put it down to the mages having their heads in the clouds… or somewhere more… fundamental. I remember having a grand time writing that scene with Sovor Trandel. Again- it was a matter of giving some life to the game’s decidedly “roulette wheel” persuasion mechanic. And I think I had probably forgotten that specific philosophical musing on “winning without violence” by the time I started Athlain’s story. But it shows that Trey is consistent, at least.

Varro is another of those really great characters that Bethesda wrote into the game. I did very little “enhancement” with him- the dialogue (as is most in this first stab at fan-fic) is 100% in-game. And he is one of the first Imperials Trey actually respects (grudgingly) as well as fears.

@mALX- It has given me great joy to revisit the first serious fiction writing I ever did. And I have you to thank for prompting me to do so (along with ArtemisNoir). And I will make sure the words stay where you can find them whenever you wish. Thank you so much.

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I had made my decision- Balmora had gotten too hot for me. Before leaving, I wanted to make some preparations; I didn't want to be caught out in the wilds missing that one item that would mean the difference between survival and ending up on some scavenger's menu. Returning from the South Wall, I went down to "my" room in the basement of the Mages Guild. That little room had served as my base for a short time and I would miss it. As I sorted through my gear, I reluctantly admitted that I was going to have to travel light. That meant that the books and alchemy apparatus were going to have to be left behind; they were luxury items and I just couldn't afford the additional weight.

On the other hand, maybe there was a way that I wouldn't have to abandon my prized possessions; a way to leave them here and come back as necessary without everyone in Balmora knowing about it. For those who can use Mysticism, there are methods of entering a place besides walking through the front door. First, the guild guides could transport me from one Mages Guild hall to another for a fee, and I planned to use that service. But I wanted something less public and more under my own control. The guild guides used a powerful version of a spell that linked known locations. However, an individual could learn to set a magical beacon called a Mark and then use a second spell called Recall to return to the Mark. You could only have one Mark set at any one time, but you could locate it in whatever convenient, concealed location you wanted. Then, if you needed to come back to that spot from almost anywhere in the Empire, you could. There were stories about some places that blocked mystical travel, but I didn't plan to go near any of those.

Translocation always made me feel as if I had forgotten my stomach somewhere on the other side of the continent, but it beat riding a giant flea. And besides, public transportation like the silt striders was just that, public. It wouldn't be hard at all for an outfit like the Camonna Tong or the Dark Brotherhood (or the Empire) to set watchers at every strider port and dock in Morrowind. The routes and schedules were well known; preparing a welcoming committee would be simple. If I didn't want to walk everywhere, probably having to deal with the local wildlife every few yards, I needed to learn Mark and Recall. I went to Ajira, figuring she was my best friend in Balmora (or anywhere), and asked her.

"Ajira does not believe anyone in the Balmora Mages Guild knows these spells. Ajira suggests that Trey speak to the priests at the Tribunal Temple."

That was good advice, because it reminded my of another travel spell I had heard of, one called Almsivi Intervention. That particular spell was another translocation magic, but one that wasn't tied to a single fixed point. Instead, Almsivi would instantly bring the caster to the nearest Tribunal Temple. That could be useful- if you found yourself in a serious enough situation to need to Almsivi out of it, chances were you would need some healing. The Imperials had a similar spell, called Divine Intervention, that would bring you to the nearest Imperial Cult shrine. The only problem with that was that Imperial Cult shrines tend to be built inside of Imperial forts, which contained large numbers of Imperial soldiers- like Larrius Varro. No, Almsivi was better for me. It was time to pay my respects at the Tribunal Temple of Balmora.

I got a rather chilly reception at the Temple; the dark elves really didn't like anyone they considered as coming from the Empire- which meant anyone who wasn't a dark elf. They weren't overtly hostile, but they looked at me as if I didn't smell very good. But I needed those spells, so I would put up with some rudeness. Finally, I located Feldrelo Sadri, the head of the Balmora temple.

She sneered, "I suppose you want to join the Temple," in a tone that indicated she was equally sure the moons were made of Dreugh wax.

I admit I took a certain perverse pleasure in saying, "Yes, as a matter of fact, I would very much like to join the Temple." After the reception I had gotten, I realized I was going to have to do something or these monks would gouge me outrageously for the spells, assuming they would even teach them to me in the first place. But if I was a member, they had to offer me services. And they might even like me a little better. The old biddy was already turning away from me, sure she was going to hear a refusal; my "yes" stopped her cold. She recovered quickly, though, and started the whole, "we-don't-let-just-anyone-join" routine.

"We value certain skills," she said.

"And those are...?" I asked politely.

"Blunt weapons, conjuration, mysticism..."

My heart sank with each word- I had minimal ability in any of those. But then she said, "And of course, restoration and alchemy to heal the people." Immediately, I asked to be tested, and after a few probing questions, she had to admit I was qualified. In fact, the conversation about alchemy and restoration thawed her considerably toward me. She then explained that, before undertaking Temple duties, I would need to complete something called the "Pilgrimage of the Seven Graces" and gave me a book, The Pilgrim's Path. The book detailed the locations of the shrines and the devotion to be performed at each. That might make a good cover; get a cheap robe to conceal my armor and pretend to be a religious pilgrim. That would allow me to move around and would even excuse odd behavior. Now a Temple member in good standing, I strolled downstairs and learned the transportation spells I had wanted. Even so, I had to swap some of my potions for the spells, as my cash was limited. Back in the Mages Guild, I checked with Ajira once more for any easy tasks she might need done- even if she paid me in potions, I could barter them for something else. Ajira allowed that she was aware of some "secrets," but that she would not let me in on them until I reached Warlock rank. Meanwhile, she indicated that I could ask Ranis, the head of the Balmora guild, for some work.

She paused, and then added, "Ajira does not like Ranis much. Perhaps Trey could speak to Ajira's friend Edwinna Elbert at Ald'ruhn."

So I had my spells, I had a way to get back to my possessions quickly and quietly, I had a cover- all I needed now was a destination. Oh, and I needed to set my Mark spell. For now, I decided that the little bedroom here in the Balmora Mages Guild would be a good place. It took me a few attempts- my Mysticism wasn't exactly first-rate. That taken care of, I raided the Mages Guild supply chest and went over my gear one more time. All of this may seem like excessive preparation, but I was more suited to towns and cities than to a life on the road, despite having grown up at an out-of-the-way inn. Even though I could get along in the wilderness and possessed considerable herb-lore, I wasn't one of those sit-around-the-fire, kill-animals-wear-their-skins types. In my brief experience, beds beat the scrib jerky out of the ground for sleeping. In fact, after a few days of sleeping on the ground, you would resemble scrib jerky- tough, salty, and smelly.

With a heartfelt prayer to whatever gods might be listening, whether Dunmer or Imperial, I asked the guild guide, Masalinie Merian, to send me to Caldera. I hoped that I would find some peace there, as well as a chance to earn some money. Sometimes, half a wish is the best you can get.

Here Ends Chapter 2

[Grits]

I’m sure it’s great to have your opening quotes back, no matter how strange the source.

It’s a grim task that sends Trey into the wilds with neither book nor alchemy apparatus. I love that the thought of abandoning his prized goods was the nudge that got him to learn translocation magic. The stable that was his home is going to be a part of him for a while, I suppose.

On to Caldera!

[ArtemisNoir]

The old biddy was already turning away from me, sure she was going to hear a refusal; my "yes" stopped her cold.

Heh! I love doing that to people in RL when opportunity permits.... always gratifying..

You must possess some awesome Internet sleuthing skills Treydog! Before you began reposting this I spent several hours intently trying to locate these early chapters using various search engines (Google, Ixquick, DuckDuckGo) and different search terms... I'm generally quite good at this kind of thing but I came up entirely empty-handed. Or perhaps the fact that it was about 2 am had something to do with it... Yep, I'll stick with that! Although... I'm also glad they seem rather difficult to find, I know if I had a story floating around out there and it was posted by somebody else beyond my control.. I'd feel.. uncomfortable.
All of that made me even more grateful you decided to repost these chapters.

Anyway, great read, and a most enjoyable way to cap off my evening, made me very glad I pulled myself away from Witcher 3, and poked my head in here for a bit.

[hazmick]

You ever have one of those days where you wake up to an assassination attempt, spit in the eye of the local criminal organization, and then spend most of your getaway money on toys?

Poor Trey. That's the problem with being a master thief - eventually you tick someone off. At least he got away with it this time.

Somehow I doubt he'll find the peace he's after, but such is life for an adventuring rogue

Great writing, as always. Now onward into chapter 3!

[treydog]

@Grits- Trey’s inability to throw anything away has nothing in common with the chronicler of his tale… honest. His aversion to any form of transportation other than horse or foot was one of the first… quirks… of his personality that he revealed.

@ArtemisNoir2- It was strange to find that site- I should have bookmarked it… but I’m paranoid… But I am also grateful to you for giving me the nudge I needed to return to this. And also to mALX for turning that nudge into a firm boot in the rear….

@hazmick- His ability to tick people off has as much to do with his big mouth and his insatiable curiosity as with his thieving. And your prediction is correct- peace is a long way off.

Not that it is necessary- but... tradition and all that...

Chapter 3

[McBadgere]

Well...That was Niiiiiice™... ...

Properly excellent to go through so much in one go!!...

There is much joy in so much humour; so many nudge-wink moments to do with How The Game Works, as well as how it should work too...

I know you've said why you stuck to the internalising for this earlier work, but it works so well because of Trey's (Yours) attitude and hilarious way of dealing with it all... ...

Fair dues...I apologise for it having been so very long since I did owt here...

But it was a proper joy to have gone through the several posts... ...

Nice one matey!!...

*Applauds heartily*...