Sleeper in the Cave, a Morrowind fanfic Options

[Kazaera]

Last installment, the Vvardenfell Mages' Guild had a night out. At the end, a mysterious figure left the gathering in disguise... and a mysterious Imperial met up with Gelduin in the tavern. They've now found themselves some privacy...

Interlude I, part 4
*****

Gelduin turned to her companion.

"I hope you're not expecting me to sleep with you while you're looking like that," she informed the Imperial tartly. Ano Andaram, if he'd been there, would have been surprised at the fluent, Vos-accented Dunmeris she spoke now – barely a trace of foreign accent, a far cry from the broken nigh-incomprehensible thanks she'd strung together earlier that day.

In the meantime, her partner had made a beeline to the pack beside her bed and was fumbling with a flask.

"Or," Gelduin continued, "that you're going to guzzle all my magicka-restoring potions. Some of us can't just go to sleep and wake up with a full magicka pool, thank you very much."

"Sorry," the Imperial said in equally fluent Dunmeris, putting the empty bottle to the side. "I don't think I can risk letting the illusion lapse – I'm not sure I'll be able to recreate it perfectly after, and I'd rather not draw attention by looking different when I leave. Too many people stayed in Vivec, anyway. I'd rather not raise any questions by being spotted somewhere I shouldn't be."

Gelduin shrugged. "Sounds paranoid to me, but you have to know what's best. I'm not cut out for all this spy stuff, you know. Code phrases and disguises and illusion spells – it's like a bad Blades novel. I had trouble keeping my face straight in there."

"Well, I'm afraid you have to get used to it," her companion said apologetically. "I can't risk being seen with you, not after-"

"-after Iniel, Namira curse her nosy ways, spotted me wandering into the Council Hall and decided to inform the whole guild," Gelduin finished. "Like I said, I'm not cut out for this spy stuff. But I am sorry about that. I miss being able to drop in on you without this... rigmarole."

"Well, it can't be helped now. And, getting to business... anything newsworthy happen on your trip?"

Gelduin let herself sink down on the narrow bed. "The main thing? We ran into three Blighted creatures, one of them near Caldera – miles away from the Ghostfence, well inside the West Gash. It worried Shazgob. It worries me, for that matter, but I don't have the direct ear of the second-in-command of the Imperial Legion for the entirety of Vvardenfell. Speaking of which, Shazgob let something interesting slip."

"Oh?"

Gelduin explained.

Sitting down beside Gelduin and frowning in thought, her companion traced winding circles on the sheet - an oddly delicate gesture that seemed misplaced on the man's bulky frame. "Something drastic... a good time to leave Vvardenfell... I wish he'd been more specific. That could be anything from invading Red Mountain to withdrawing from Vvardenfell completely. Well. The last is no doubt too much to hope for." A sigh. "I suppose other... friends of ours... will just have to keep an eye on Albuttian."

Gelduin, who neither knew nor particularly cared whether they had other agents in Ebonheart, nodded.

"So, anything happen on your end which you'd like me to tell the boss?" she asked.

"It's funny you should say that. Tell me, did you happen to meet an Adryn while with the caravan?"

"Adryn?" Gelduin blinked in surprise. "Clanless girl, late teens or so, from Skyrim? Yes, she travelled with us for a day or so earlier this week. Helped me out with the scouting – seemed like a good kid, even if she and her friend were clearly hiding something. Had a detection spell I'd really have liked to learn," she added with a touch of envy. "Although I guess you'd know her better than me – I remember she mentioned she was a guild member. Apparently nobody'd clued her in on my status as an agent of the enemy."

"You wanted to learn her detection spell?"

"She had this trick of using a Detect Life spell to tell whether an animal was Blighted. You know how much easier being able to do that would make my life? And I'm pretty sure Yakin Bael would give his right arm for it!" Gelduin frowned. "What's this about?"

"It turns out that that is only the tail of the snake when it comes to her skills. Apparently she can manage a teleport to a variable destination."

Gelduin's eyes widened. "You're serious? The things you could do with that-"

"Congratulations. By seeing the potential here, you have just proven yourself wiser than, at last count, the entirety of the Vvardenfell Mages' Guild." The Imperial began to pace angrily.

"This sounds like a story." Gelduin stretched, then let herself settle back on the bed with a groan. In her professional opinion as a scout, a good mattress needed to be properly indulged in when it crossed one's path.

"Sheep. Mindless sheep," her friend spat. "Teleportation is one of the big research areas of the guild. We've- they've been trying to increase the range and flexibility of the spells for centuries, to no avail. The guild guide network is the biggest advance made during that entire time, and that requires a dedicated mage at every single end point. Along comes a girl whose spell-casting doesn't obey any of the restrictions we assumed must hold, who could open a thousand new avenues of investigation, and what do they do? The instant the words 'learning disability' fall they declare her hopeless, write off all that potential as misfires!"

"You feel very strongly about this," Gelduin said from where she was watching the rant.

"It's just such a waste! Now they're going to convince the girl she should stay away from the entire school, fill her head with exaggerated tales of danger, all because she doesn't learn or cast the spells the way they think they should, because she can't cast a Soultrap spell. Who even cares about Soultrap? It's not as if we have a shortage of fools who can cast it. She, on the other hand, managed a teleport to a place completely devoid of any Mystic beacon. Any proper organisation supportive of mages would immediately recognise the worth of such a unique talent. Great-"

At that, Gelduin's companion broke off and shot a glance into the corner. After a moment, the light of Illusion magic bloomed once more.

"Great House Telvanni," the Imperial continued, voice softer despite the renewed green gleam in the corners, "would leap on the opportunity to nurture it."

"Is leaping, I think you mean," Gelduin said, spreading her hands to indicate their current situation. "Unless this is all some bizarre prelude to telling me you've rethought your allegiances, are going over to the Mages' Guild for real and want me to join you. If so, I have to inform that your rhetorical skills need some work."

Her companion snorted. "Hardly. But..."

The anger fled from the large body like water seeping from a pierced skin. The weary sigh, loud in the small room, did not belong to the young face that made it.

"Like it or not, she's still a member of the Mages' Guild. One who is making waves despite how recently she joined. And I can't risk falling under suspicion... I'll have to tread very, very carefully."

"I have full confidence that you'll come up with something," Gelduin said firmly. "Or the boss will. Seeing as I take it you'd like me to make a full report on the matter."

"I was rather hoping you would, yes. I know that..." her companion glanced up at the corners of the room as if considering something, then shrugged and continued, "the boss is going to be very interested in this. It ties into some long-standing research interests, you see." The last words were spoken with all the authority of a close confidant.

So her nickname for their patron was a code name now? Her life had become a bad Blades novel indeed, Gelduin thought, hard-pressed to keep from rolling her eyes.

For the hundredth time, she wondered whether she shouldn't give up this spy business, go back to the boss and say she'd rather just be a perfectly ordinary scout with none of the cloak-and-dagger nonsense. Akatosh knew there was enough business in the Grazelands to keep her happily occupied.

Her friend was looking far more cheerful, Gelduin noted, the look on that false face saying that the other was already thinking up plans for gaining control over this Adryn's unique abilities. She felt a brief spark of pity for the girl, who'd struck Gelduin as rather naive – or, in other words, as woefully unequipped to be at the centre of this sort of conspiracy – but forced it down. House Telvanni had been good to Gelduin herself, after all, and it certainly sounded like the girl wasn't being properly appreciated for her abilities where she was.

More to the point, although Gelduin did not consider her companion's current appearance in any way attractive, the gleam in those eyes made her remember what lay beneath it. And exactly how she'd been... seduced... into House Telvanni in the first place.

"Are you really certain you can't stay for a while, without the illusion?" she asked. "Your guildmates are hardly going to come in bursting here, and I doubt anyone will notice if you look a little different if you leave. I've been on the road for such a long time, you know." Gelduin let her voice drop to the purr that had brought Madam Meretria to her doorstep with an offer the day she turned sixteen. "No privacy at all. I was really looking forward to catching up with you... properly."

Her companion's eyes darkened, but that was the only reaction.

Gelduin considered, and decided she could up her gambit a little. "Otherwise, well, I've got a long journey ahead of me tomorrow, and it sounds like we're about caught up on news. Unless you give me a good reason to stay awake, I'll be going to bed now."

She stood, turning her back to her partner. Her pulse hammered in her ears, drowning out all other sound, as she began to unbutton her dress. Goosebumps grew on her skin as the bare skin of her shoulder met cool air, her back-

Fingers wrapped around hers, far longer and thinner than the Imperial's.

"You make a convincing argument," a very familiar voice murmured in her ear.

A quarter hour later, the muffling spell on the room wore off. Neither of the two occupants noticed. That was perfectly all right, though, as none of the sounds that escaped could be considered incriminating.

*****

Notes: For what it's worth, Gelduin is the main character I was thinking of when I said earlier that there are often little Easter eggs if you look up the NPCs I hijack. She's a member of House Telvanni in-game! Alas for Adryn, faction allegiance isn't always easy to determine in her world.

[ghastley]

You're implying that Mark/Recall doesn't exist (yet?), or am I reading it wrong? Her half-failed Intervention casts are something else, it's true, but not quite as unique as this conversation seems to imply.

I like the detail of "I daren't drop this magical disguise, or I won't get a proper match when I re-cast". It's nice not to have magic work like magic!

[Kazaera]

Notes: Huge apologies for the delay to this section. I was about to post it then realised I had to rewrite something, and at that point life got in the way. In my defense, life included my cousin's wedding, an interview, a job offer, resigning my job, and planning my move to another country which will take place in less than two weeks... in completely unrelated news, next chapter may also be rather delayed...

@ghastley - Mark/Recall do exist, but they use mystical waypoints in form of the one set by Recall. The unique thing that Adryn did was teleport somewhere with no beacon, no Recall point, nothing at all. That said, the fact that said place was somewhat inimical to anyone not in possession of wings probably put something of a damper on most people's enthusiasm. Possibly not a surprise the Telvanni see it differently, as they tend to have a more reckless approach to personal safety.

Overall, I'd say we've seen two extremes as far as point of views on Adryn's abilities go - the Mages' Guild only sees the downsides, while our mysterious Telvanni spy is only seeing the advantages. As usual, the truth most likely lies somewhere in the middle.

Last installment, two spies conferred and plots were hatched. These plots are most likely ones Adryn would really, really like to know about, seeing as they concern her very directly, but sadly she's unlikely to be informed anytime soon. Now, are we done with people Adryn has no idea about discussing her?

Spoilers: No, we are not.

Interlude I, part 5
*****

Something that regularly came as a surprise to newcomers to Vivec – outlander tourists, visitors, new residents and pilgrims alike – was the Palace.

Rising towards the sky at the southernmost point of the city, an earthly thing of stone and iron topped by a golden dome, at first glance a not particularly religious newcomer might think it was much like the homes of the rich and powerful the world over. Such blasphemy was quickly proven mistaken on any sort of closer inspection, however. Only the topmost floor of the palace was occupied by the god himself, a windowless space no larger than the tiny stilted shacks that rose from the water between the cantons. The rest of the palace was given over to the Puzzle Canals, the mysterious, some claimed ever-changing maze of corridors and flowing water that was a favoured destination of pilgrims from across Morrowind. Of all the things that could be said of the Puzzle Canals, them being a suitable dwelling place was not one.

Vivec's palace was the home of a god, not a man.

As Archcanon of the Vvardenfell Temple beneath Vivec, Tholer Saryoni had access to the private writings of many of his predecessors. Some had kept more detailed journals than others – Noveni Omayn in particular had left behind a considerable collection of volumes, one thankfully accompanied by a quick and biting sense for irony and witty turn of phrase – but keeping such records was one of the unspoken duties of the job and one would be hard-pressed to find an Archcanon who had left behind nothing at all. Poring over their writings late into the night, commonalities became apparent.

My lord has changed His chamber again, wrote Tandris Nelenim. Entered this morning and found myself in an actual jungle. Narrowly escaped being attacked by a beast I did not recognise... very afraid He has gone on a jaunt to Akavir (or possibly Hircine's Hunting Grounds?) and, shall we say, left the door open behind Him...

And, of course, Noveni. His Worship is showing dangerous signs of getting bored again. After a very relaxing few months where his chamber obeyed the laws of Mundus it has been getting steadily larger by the day, and I have a terrible suspicion the carpet is currently carnivorous. I have made clear in the strongest possible terms that I would be most displeased if I entered one day and found myself on the ceiling, in an Outer Realm, or eaten by the floor, but fear I failed to make much, if any, impression. For the sake of everyone's safety and keeping the dragon of time in one piece, I do believe I may need to arrange for a distraction...

Reading it, Tholer – who, if pressed, would admit to a love for adventure better suited to a far younger man – had felt rather wistful. Such variety, he thought, sounded rather exciting. Sadly for him, in his tenure as Archcanon, Vivec's chamber had remained constant. As he entered now, it was clear today would bring no change.

Inside as outside, the room at the top of the Palace of Vivec was small and perfectly round. Elaborate murals ran along the walls, some depicting scenes Tholer recognised from history or legend, some ones entirely unfamiliar – different ones each time he entered, the only remnant of the distortions of physical reality described by so many of his predecessors. The floor was a stark contrast to such decoration, bare white stone save for a large triangle worked into it in gold, a plain dais at its centre.

Over it floated a god.

Vivec's back was to the door, and he had given no sign of welcome or even acknowledgement. Instead, his gaze was fixed on the only other item in the chamber.

An image of Vvardenfell floated before Vivec, green islands and gray ash-wastes alike rising from a sea of white fog, all leading upwards to the great sweep of Red Mountain – its peak obscured even here. Looking at it too long gave one the disturbing feeling that it was slowly growing larger, or perhaps one was growing smaller, slowly being drawn in.

(When Tholer was younger and less wise, he had asked whether it was a model or real. Instead of punishing him for a fool's desire for certainty, Vivec had told him every model is real and reality is but a model. Tholer had bowed his gratitude for the gift of the paradox and, ever since, had taken care not to come too near to it.)

Every detail was perfect, from the pebble that was Baar Dau floating in the south to the tiny spires of Dwemer ruins rising from Dagon Fel in the north, the thin wisps of cloud hanging above that island contrast to the thick grey mass that blotted out most of Azura's Coast (and hadn't Brother Eris, travelling back from Sadrith Mora by guild guide just today, returned with sodden robes?)...

And, of course, above all else, the Ghostfence.

Ringing Red Mountain, glowing with a fierce white light, it was absolutely unmistakeable. If Tholer listened closely, he could hear the whispered voices of all the thousands and thousands of ancestors who had given themselves over to it. It was awe-inspiring, a work of staggering scope, testament to the strength of the Dunmer people in both life and death... testament to the power of their gods.

It was – so someone who had come to this chamber over decades, someone such as the Archcanon of the Vvardenfell Temple, might notice – very, very slowly growing weaker.

"Enter."

Vivec spoke without turning around. His voice passed straight through Tholer to wrap around something behind him.

Tholer looked over his shoulder. Sister Dileno had stopped in the entranceway, eyes wide. Now, she took a trembling step forward, as if worried she would be struck down for daring to cross the threshold.

Had she ever met Vivec face-to-face like this before – not watching in a crowd as he greeted his people, not at a ceremony with all the upper ranks attending, but in a small group with no script or ritual to follow? Taking in her stunned expression, thinking back, Tholer decided she had not. Vivec left this chamber so rarely these days, anyhow.

I have spent the last several days attempting to explain to his Worship the nature of becoming predictable. To choose an example at random – should one be a god with a taste for wandering their flock in disguise, it is perhaps wise to only engage in such activities on a rare basis, or to choose a variety of guises, or in some way to prevent the situation where the clergy generally assume that at least one member of the new intake of novices will be no novice. Should one be such a god, one may want to keep in mind that the more senior members of one's followers may also wish to speak to one on occasion, and that the current situation, where the upper echelons of the Temple are in fact far less likely to see their god than the novices, can only be called 'absurd'...

Tholer pushed Noveni's words back in his mind.

"Enter, Dileno, daughter of Mundrila, of clan Lloran," Vivec repeated. His voice vibrated through Tholer's bones like the ringing of bell, pure and emotionless. "And tell me why you have come."

Out of the corner of his eye, Tholer saw Dileno throw him a desperate look as she edged into the chamber. He kept his gaze straight ahead and focused on Vivec. Knowing that in a few more decades he would need to seriously look into training a successor, Tholer kept an eye on the more promising of the mid-ranks, and the Disciple had struck him as having real potential. Time to see if that held up.

And should she prove weak, should she fall apart before their god... well.

One way or the other, she would never rise higher than her current rank.

After a moment, Dileno rallied. "My lord, this- this concerns news I received from one of your Buoyant Armigers, one Ervesa Romandas."

"Ervesa. Yes." Vivec's head dipped, as though he were deep in thought. Still he had not turned around; as was becoming more and more common, almost all his attention was fixed on the Ghostfence. "I am aware of her discovery of the Sharmat's plot in Ald'ruhn."

Should that be why you disturb me. He did not say it, but Tholer could hear the words ring in the silence.

Dileno licked her lips. "My lord, it- it is true this was the most urgent news she brought. However, there was... something else. She did not see its importance. In truth-" Dileno paused for a moment, then plunged in. "In truth, I do not either."

Good. Very good. Admit your ignorance, for to Almsivi we are all ignorant. Pride has no place before the gods.

Vivec did not visibly react.

"But- my Lord, I had been given to understand that you wished to be informed immediately and in person should any of your servants meet or hear of anyone suffering from the affliction known as 'Ledd's Syndrome', or showing any of its signs."

Dileno pronounced the alien term carefully, unable to keep a faint trace of bewilderment from her voice. Tholer knew she must think such a minor oddity a very strange thing indeed for Lord Vivec to concern himself with. He remembered puzzling over it himself when he had learned of the directive, an unexplained mystery....

Unexplained, until he became Patriarch and was made privy to the last, most terrible secrets of the Tribunal.

Vivec's motion upon the dais stopped.

For a terrifying moment, the Ghostfence dimmed to near-darkness. Then it snapped back to full strength. Tholer, who felt as though his heart had skipped a beat with it, had to suppress a sigh of relief. Dileno was discreet enough – no one prone to gossip would make it to her current position – but some things shouldn't be risked all the same.

Better for all if no doubt was cast on the idea that Almsivi were all-powerful and the Ghostfence impenetrable.

"You are certain?" Something new had entered Vivec's voice. Dileno would almost certainly not recognise it, but after working with his god closely for decades Tholer could name it urgency.

"I- yes, my lord. I, I spoke to the girl affected myself, to confirm the report. A clanless outlander, newly arrived in Vvardenfell. By the name of Adryn."

Vivec turned to face them, power blazing from his eyes. His gaze passed over Tholer to rest on Dileno, frozen in what looked to be mingled terror and ecstasy by their god's full attention.

(Perhaps not suitable after all.)

"Tell me everything."

*****

Not far from the palace of Vivec, in a cell attached to the Hall of Justice in the High Fane, a Dunmer girl slept. Her cot was not much softer than the stone of the floor, but that had not kept her awake. Perhaps Adryn was not so long out of prison to have forgotten how to catch a nap at any available opportunity, perhaps exhaustion had overwhelmed all discomfort, or indeed perhaps some strange power was at play... in any case, she lay curled up on the cot, straw poking out from the thin pillow to tangle in her red hair, eyes closed, mouthing words in her dreams.

If her guard had listened closely, he might have found something to puzzle over. The words she whispered were not Tamrielic, but how was it that an outlander girl newly come to Vvardenfell should speak Chimeris, the ancient forebear of Dunmeris long consigned to dusty tomes? How was it that her mouth should form the words Dumac and Alandro Sul and Almalexia, form so many names from worship and history and legend, with such familiarity?

But the guard was leaning against the wall in the opposite end of the corridor, having glanced into the girl's cell only briefly earlier in the night. He'd been friends with Selman, close friends, and was afraid of what he might do if forced to stay near his rumoured killer. For the sake of duty and honour over vengeance, he had to keep his distance.

And so he did not listen, did not see, and the mystery remained for another day.

*****
End of interlude

Notes: This probably wins #1 in the "which section is Kaz most likely to go back and quietly edit" competition (excluding some considerations about relocating Adryn's home in Skyrim to Windhelm after actually playing the game.) Writing Vivec is super difficult - here's hoping I had some level of success with it!

[ghastley]

In my defense, life included my cousin's wedding, an interview, a job offer, resigning my job, and planning my move to another country which will take place in less than two weeks..

Is the middle of Brexit the right time for that? I did it a few times in the 1970's when it was easier, and it wasn't easy! (Even including the cousin's wedding part)

I've been meaning to ask since the name arose: is "Ledd's Syndrome" named after Hort Ledd - failed Nerevarine candidate?

[Kazaera]

In my defense, life included my cousin's wedding, an interview, a job offer, resigning my job, and planning my move to another country which will take place in less than two weeks..

Is the middle of Brexit the right time for that? I did it a few times in the 1970's when it was easier, and it wasn't easy! (Even including the cousin's wedding part)

I've been meaning to ask since the name arose: is "Ledd's Syndrome" named after Hort Ledd - failed Nerevarine candidate?

Brexit is actually the reason I'm moving. Not to get political, but I'm German and I've felt really uncomfortable in the UK during the last year - never to mention more homesick than I was in the ten previous years combined. I will definitely agree with you that international moves are NOT easy, though, even if they are to one's home country! /o\

And yes, Ledd's Syndrome is named after Hort Ledd. It was a little Easter egg + clue on my part - nice catch!

[ghastley]

Had you written "return to my native land" instead of "move to another country" it would have got a different reaction. The "another", especially, implied "one I haven't lived in before".

When I moved from the UK to the Netherlands for a couple of years, I had a job that took me to as many as five different countries in a week (and they didn't all use the Euro back then). Then I moved back. Then I had a multi-month assignment in Germany (company rented my accommodations, so not a full move). Then I moved back. Then I moved to the USA, and I've been here 30 years. Retirement might mean a move back - I haven't decided. But I've travelled back to Europe several times, business and otherwise, and I'm finding just travelling, let alone a home move, getting beyond tolerable.

The Brexit vote annoyed me, as it excluded the two classes of people most likely to vote against: residents of UK who were not UK citizens (you), and UK citizens resident abroad (me). I don't like biased polls, for any reason.

[Grits]

Oh how fun, a Maxical appearance! I love how you explained magical learning disabilities. That’s a subject that hits close to home for me. (Er, not the magical part.)

I think your Vivec portrayal was wildly successful. Tholer’s reflections on the previous Archcanons’ private writings set the scene nicely.

[Kazaera]

Aaand I'm back in time for Christmas with more Adryn! Actually managing to write regularly for once, cross your fingers for me that it keeps working. I also have a significant buffer that I really should post, even though I'm having serious trouble pulling together the part after it and found myself having to scrap half a chapter because it wasn't working... anyway.

@Grits - Glad you liked it! Learning disabilities are also a subject that hit close to home for me. I have a lot of plans for Adryn's, but I definitely always hope to do the experience justice.

Last chapter, Adryn was terrified out of her wits by a statue, discovered she had a magical learning disability affecting the Mysticism school, discovered aforementioned statue had left a nasty spiritual residue that could leave her possessed if she wasn't cleansed ASAP, and finally got arrested for murder. It wasn't one of her better days.

Now, we find Adryn in the same position as she started the story...

Chapter 12.1
*****

One week.

Sitting on my cot in my new cell, I couldn't help imagining Elone's face at this turn of events. The scout I'd met that first day in Seyda Neen, who'd kindly refrained from turning me in to the guards when she'd seen me stealing, had seemed rather doubtful of my ability to stay out of trouble very long. I couldn't quite decide if she'd be smug or disappointed now... or which of the two would be worse.

One single week of freedom, and I was back in prison again.

And any pathetic defense I could muster (among others that it had not been a week, it had been eight days, thank you very much) crumpled before the force of precisely what accusation had brought me back here.

You are under arrest for the murder of Ordinator Selman Relas...

Although the event had come as something of a surprise, a few days to cool my heels and inspect my new home (much the same as the old home, and still no potted plant to boot) had made it clear to me what had happened...

...and I could truly have kicked myself for my stupidity.

Let us imagine for a moment that we are Jobasha. This is of course a difficult task, as Jobasha would no doubt make it clear that he is ever so much more intelligent, crafty, and – of course! - handsome than we are. Nevertheless, we shall give it our best effort.

So. On Loredas, Jobasha meets a friend of his Ajira's, a Dunmer girl with red hair... a fugitive from the Skyrim Thieves' Guild, Jobasha happens to know, as she is accused of terrible things by the Thief-King. But it does not quite add up, to Jobasha, the skittish, frightened, harmless girl in front of him and the gruesome tales he has heard, and he is not at all fond of the Thief-King. So instead of turning her in, he puts the fear of Vaermina in her, gives her a task to do and watches her flee his presence, prepared to sit back, watch and judge.

Half an hour later, the guard knocks on his door. There has been a murder, right outside his door. An Ordinator has been most cruelly slain. Does Jobasha know anything? Did he hear anything? Did he, perhaps, see a suspicious person pass by?

Well, Jobasha did have a customer, half an hour ago, one who has tales of bloody murder following her already. And although he thought them lies, although he looked the girl in the eye and decided she did not have a killer in her... how sure is he of his judgement, really?

Not sure enough to lie to the Ordinators, certainly.

Now, we turn to Jobasha's neighbour, one Andilu Drothan who keeps an alchemy store. Ordinarily, Adryn would never have let such a thing pass her by, but at that time she was very focused on getting back to Balmora as soon as possible and so missed the sign. A shocking thing indeed, and no doubt her day was much poorer for that fact, but as this means she did not enter his shop and never came to meet him one might think him irrelevant in this matter...

Except that, on the afternoon of that fateful Loredas, Andilu found himself feeling the need for a breath of fresh air. He had had no customers for a while now, the shop was stuffy and dark, and he felt the urge to get out for a little. His finances, he decided, were in good enough a state that he could afford to close early, today. And so he opened the door to his shop, thinking of taking a stroll along the northern shore, perhaps-

-and saw an Ordinator lying on the floor in a pool of blood, and a woman holding a bloodied dagger. Perhaps she was staring at a corner intently, angrily, as though something there had just escaped from her; perhaps there was even the spark of free magicka in the air from a just-cast spell. If so, such subtleties escaped Andilu, who found himself far more focused on screaming. At which point the woman ran away, the guards arrived, and the corpse remained where it was.

When questioned, Andilu did remember that the woman was a Dunmer with red hair.

These two accounts together, one has to admit, form something of a damning picture. Especially so because our friend Andilu, as we have seen, does not exactly have the best eye for detail. Imagine, for instance, if he had had the state of mind to note that the murderer's hair was in fact a bloody crimson – quite a different shade from Adryn's coppery orange, even if both may be labelled 'red'! Or that the murderer was well into adulthood, perhaps the equivalent of thirty-five years of age in a Nord or Imperial, whereas Adryn is not quite out of her teens. Alas, he did not, and so his description and Jobasha's agreed.

All of which might still have ended without a prison stay if I had just stopped and thought for a moment.

After all, in Morrowind I was a perfectly innocent ordinary citizen, no bounty on my head, no reason not to go to the guards if I should, for instance, be witness to one Master Grumpy's murder and narrowly escape the culprit's rage myself. I could have reported the incident to the guards in Ald'ruhn, in Balmora, provided those vitally important pieces missing from the narrative Jobasha and Andilu had created between them, without which the entire picture was terribly distorted...

But no. I'd become entirely focused on the various other problems facing me. These, to be fair, were not inconsiderable, ranging from naked Nords over angry Redoran noblemen and mind-controlling statues to Varvur, who formed a category all by himself... but nevertheless, I could have given the actual murder I'd witnessed a little more attention. Instead, I'd done my best to forget it had ever happened.

A course of action that, so I had been reliably informed, was profoundly suspicious.

A loud creaking noise came from the direction of the cell door. Torn out of my self-pity, I jerked my head upright just in time to see the Ordinator I'd dubbed Trebonius II for his intelligence, acumen and wit nudge it open.

"Follow me, prisoner. And no funny business."

I refrained from asking exactly what he thought I could get up to with my hands bound and a magicka-draining bracer on my wrist. Sometimes, even I realise I'm in deep enough that it's time to stop digging.

Besides, he'd been less than amused when I'd asked him yesterday.

I followed the guard down the hallway that had grown increasingly familiar since my arrest. It looked much like the ones I'd trekked along on the way to the cleansing chamber, and I suspected we were still in the High Fane.

Which was, I hoped, a good sign.

It was pretty clear that the Fane was set up as organisational headquarters and spiritual hub for the Temple, not a prison – especially since there was only one other cell near mine and it was empty. No, the area I was in must be a processing area for new arrests... which, combined with the lengthy questioning Trebonius II had repeatedly subjected me to, meant I was still under investigation rather than convicted. (I'd also like to assume this was the case since I couldn't remember any sort of trial, but I admit to some amount of cynicism as far as judicial systems are concerned.) In short, I still had a chance of talking myself out of this.

If only my story weren't so cursed flimsy.

We reached our destination, the small room off the main hallway that was serving as the interrogation chamber. As always, I breathed a quiet sigh of relief to discover none of the implements one might associate with such a thing were present.

"Sit."

I took a seat on the indicated stool, fighting the urge to squirm. I hated having a door to my back in an unfamiliar environment. No doubt it was the reason for the setup.

"Now." Trebonius II looked me head to toe, disgusted scowl making clear he considered me on about the same level as vermin. Dead, rotting vermin. It was an expression I'd grown rather familiar with over the past days. "Why did you kill Selman?"

Despite the situation, I couldn't help rolling my eyes. Seriously, did the mer really think I'd just blurt out a confession if caught off-guard? After it hadn't worked the previous twelve times? If he continued along those lines, I might have to downgrade him from Trebonius to... cliff racers were too clever... some form of algae, maybe. If he didn't watch himself at that point, Varvur might find himself getting competition.

"I didn't kill the man." I couldn't keep the asperity from creeping into my tone. "As I've already told you, I saw the whole thing and the murderer is a Dunmer woman. Crimson hair, taller and older than me, had some sort of enchanted dagger. I only just managed to get away from her myself by teleporting out."

"A likely story," the possible Algae-brain bit out. His hand clenched on the hilt of his mace as he stepped forward until I had to crane my head back awkwardly to keep him in view.

A classic guard strategy, this. Act like you're on the verge of losing your temper, get close enough to seated prisoner to make the height difference really apparent... intimidate them through the combination of looming and the threat of violence. No, it wasn't the first time I'd been on the receiving end of 'put the fear of the appropriate god into suspect, mark I'.

Sadly, that didn't mean it didn't still work.

"So this mysterious woman simply came from nowhere and stabbed a respected Ordinator while he was talking to you," Algae-brain growled. (The tone was a nice addition to the classic intimidation pose, I had to admit.) "A woman whom we have no other reports of, who even by your account had no apparent motive. You, on the other hand – you, the outlander who was already involved in an argument with Selman that day, who even admits to getting into another with him directly before the murder – are entirely innocent. You were in fact almost a victim, but only escaped through a teleportation accident... an accident, the likes of which I've never heard of before and which my Mysticism instructor stated to be flat-out impossible." A deep breath. "Girl, do you think I'm stupid?"

Well, that question put me in a difficult position.

On the one hand, although I am generally in favour of lying to law enforcement, I did have to admit that doing it in my current situation would be idiotic – quite possibly terminally so. On the other, giving my honest assessment of Trebonius II – no, he was definitely Algae-brain by now – at any rate, giving my honest assessment of his intelligence was unlikely to improve matters for me.

I'd just opened my mouth to attempt an answer when I heard the door open behind me.

*****

[haute ecole rider]

Well, it seems Algae Brain ain't no Pilus Julian, Sixth Legion!

Seriously, I can't wait to see what Adryn has to say, or what's coming in that door. Something tells me it will only be more trouble . . .

[mALX]

WOO HOO! You are back !!!! I plan to sit down and read (hear) this over my XMas holiday!

[Kazaera]

@haute - I feel pretty certain in saying that Julius wouldn't be impressed, yes
@mALX - I am back!! And really happy to see you're around as well! I hope you enjoy Adryn's newest adventures when you get around to hearing them.

Last installment, Adryn was in the middle of being questioned as a murder suspect. Let's see how that continues.

Chapter 12.2
*****

"Elam! I said I wasn't to be interrupted-"

Situated with my back to the door as I was, I couldn't see who'd just entered, although the sound of the footsteps suggested at least three people. I could however see Algae-brain throw a death glare at whoever had dared interrupt, face twisting in fury...

...then going very pale as he opened and closed his mouth wordlessly.

Surely he wouldn't kill me for a quick peek?

The people (all Dunmer, and one day that would stop being surprising) now filing into the chamber didn't look familiar. Two of them were also wearing Ordinator armour, although like Algae-brain they'd doffed the helmets. One was a thin-faced man who carried himself with a distinct air of authority, one a girl I judged around my age with tattoos on her face who walked with an odd dragging step.

They were followed by a man with cropped dark hair in very expensive-looking robes, a mace made out of some dark metal – wait, was that ebony? - hanging rather incongruously at his side. Where the two Ordinators had ignored me entirely, he glanced at me and winked.

Hope began to bloom in my chest. I tried to squash it. The man might be on my side – or at least ready to act as if he was – but I had no idea who he was or whether he'd just make the situation even worse.

...to be fair, at this point managing to make it worse would be something of an accomplishment.

"Brother Elam. Sister Nedeni." Algae-brain said stiffly. After a pause, he sank into a bow. "...Councilor Sarethi."

Sarethi? I twisted around to look behind me again.

Yes, on a closer look I could see a resemblance there. And hadn't Varvur said his father was on some sort of council?

Considering what I'd done for his son, it wasn't even particularly surprising if he'd decided he owed me one. I knew I'd gladly forgo a reward in favour of him getting me out of here, one way or another.

Well, then. It was time to hope Varvur had gotten his brains from his mother.

But it was the male Ordinator who spoke first.

"Brother Suryn. How... good to see you." I definitely hadn't imagined that pause. "I'll have to mention your initiative to Brother Berel. It's not any mer who'd not just arrest a suspect but also interrogate them without any orders to that regard."

The tone was light, friendly, collegial. All the same, I could read the message here.

So, it seemed, could Algae-brain. This close, I could hear him grind his teeth. "The report came in on Middas. You were away – performing a 'forensic-magical investigation of the crime scene', Sister Felmena said-" those skeptical quotes were audible, "and the information needed to be acted on urgently." A grudging pause. "My message must have gone astray."

Oh, I'd bet it had.

Also, veiled meanings or no, should these two really be doing this in front of me? The suspect? Kyne knew Charon, Ingerte and I had kept closed ranks in front of outsiders, and there are more similarities between running a successful enterprise of guardsmen and one of criminals than one might think. I opened my mouth-

No, a little voice said in my head. (I suspected it was the little-heard voice of my self-preservation.) Interrupting in order to tell my current jailors how they were doing law enforcement wrong was unlikely to end well for me.

"-make sure to mention that to Brother Berel. For now, I'd like to question the girl myself," the newer idiot was saying.

I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and leave him as 'Andas' for now. After all, it might just be forced conversation with Algae-brain causing the current spate of stupidity.

Said mer went purple, but couldn't seem to find a reason to protest. He gave a jerky nod, then stepped back and folded his arms.

"Right. Adryn, wasn't it?"

That was definitely directed at me. With a quick glance at Algae-brain to make sure he wouldn't take violent exception, I shuffled around on the stool until I was facing the newcomers. "Ah, yes. That's me."

"I'm Elam Andas, in charge of the investigation into the Vivec murders. This is my assistant, Nedeni Tenim." He nodded at the girl who'd entered with him. "Can you please recount for me the events of this past Loredas as you saw them, starting from the point where you left the shop belonging to the Khajiit Jobasha?"

Andas proved a far more congenial listener than Algae-brain, or at least willing to consider a sequence of events that did not include me killing the unfortunate Master Grumpy. Where Algae-brain had scoffed at or entirely ignored my explanations, he probed for more details.

Exactly how had Master Grumpy reacted after being injured by the dagger? Had I been able to make out the predominant school of the enchantment? (I remembered the malevolent red glitter of the blade, visible even through the blood, as if it were before me. Destruction magic – it had to be.)

How long had it taken me to get off the teleportation spell? Where had I ended up?

"Come now," Algae-brain interrupted at this point. He'd wandered to stand beside the others, and although part of me was glad not to have him at my back another part wished he'd stayed back. His facial expressions made it very hard to concentrate on my account. Now was a perfect example. "You can't possible believe her story!"

Andas gave the man a long, slow look. I wondered if he shared my assessment of Algae-brain's intelligence.

But it was the girl who spoke next. "Actually, it corroborates what we've found – there are definite traces of Mystic magic throughout the scene, leading to a knot of energy in a corner." Much like her walk, there was a slur to her speech, making her sound almost as if she were drunk. Palsy, I suspected. "I'd have called it a successful Recall spell, except that the connection to the endpoint was all twisted up and the shape of the residue was wrong. I'd never seen anything like it before..." Her voice trailed off as she seemed to notice everyone was looking at her. "Um. Begging your pardon, Brother Elam, Councilor Sarethi."

Algae-brain sneered. "You expect me to take that as supporting evidence?"

"As it happens," Varvur's father spoke for the first time, "my son can confirm her difficulties with teleportation, being present for a second... incident along those lines." His voice was mild, but Algae-brain shut his mouth with a snap.

Just how important was Varvur's family, anyway?

So it went on. Andas listened to my description of the way the murderer had acted, her slow gait, her words (Dagoth Ur does not want you here, outlander-), with a pensive frown. On my own part, I found myself drawing certain rather horrifying connections between her behaviour (strange, off, as if she were sleepwalking, as if she were being Controlled) and the statues – ash statues, that priestess had called them – where one had made Varvur kill his best friend. What if...

...well, there was nothing I could do about it in any case, and I didn't think anyone here wanted to hear my speculation. All I could do was stress that she hadn't seemed entirely in control of her actions. And although Andas' face gave nothing away, a glance at Varvur's father made it clear he'd spotted the potential connection here.

We moved to my alibi for the other murders, which Andas also took a lot more seriously than Algae-brain – especially once Sarethi senior mentioned that he'd spoken with Socucius Ergalla and I was indeed on record as having been released from prison in Imperial City into Morrowind on the nineteenth of Hearthfire. As the prison stay in question had begun in Evening Star of the year before, I could not possibly have killed someone in Vivec earlier this year, much less on five separate occasions.

"Well- well- maybe it's a gang, and she joined late!"

Andas raised an eyebrow. "Why, does that mean you do believe her story about the other woman involved after all?"

"No- I mean- I..."

There was a long pause, in which Algae-brain seemed to deflate. Eventually, he said, "All right. Suppose you're right, and she didn't do it. Who is this mysterious other suspect, where did she even come from, and what's her motive for killing Selman supposed to be?"

The fury was gone from his voice, and in its absence I could hear a thread of something else underlying it. Not expecting it, it took me a moment to identify it as grief.

Why would he be-

Oh.

He and Master Grumpy had been friends.

The events of the last few days suddenly fell into a whole new pattern. No wonder he'd been so eager to interrogate me, no wonder he'd resisted the idea that I was in fact innocent. He'd wanted to believe he'd found his friend's killer, that she was safely behind bars.

I felt a twinge of sympathy and immediately attempted to suffocate it. Really, empathy for law enforcement, how low was I planning to sink?

Andas heaved a sigh. "Exactly what I'm attempting to work out. Although as far as her motive goes, her reported words really speak for themselves, wouldn't you say?"

"Dagoth Ur doesn't want you here..." the girl repeated in a whisper.

Found you!

The memory of my nightmare suddenly came back to me, and despite myself, I couldn't help a sudden, hard flinch.

Andas gave me a long glance, then turned back to Algae-brain. "As for where to find her now... I have a suspicion. We've had some other reports of a woman behaving strangely in Vivec Canton that may be connected, and the location of the murder is... possibly telling. However, I don't believe the presence of muthsera Adryn is required for this discussion."

My ears perked at that, and I felt a sudden surge of hope. If this Andas believed me, maybe they'd let me go?

That hope was cruelly deflated when Algae-brain said, "I'll return her to her cell, then."

Andas nodded, not even looking up. "For the best, I believe. She is still a suspect, if an unlikely one, and in any case protective custody may be wise-"

"-actually, if you don't mind, I'll take charge of her."

What?

Sarethi, who'd inserted himself into the conversation as deftly as any master con-man, continued before anyone could get a word in edgewise. "I have some things to discuss with her." He gave me a searching look – I glared back, more out of reflex than anything else – and nodded to himself. "Over lunch, I should think."

"Now wait a minute-"

"Unless you have any particular objections to my ability to guard her?" Sarethi's eyes were very sharp as they rested on Algae-brain. "Or, perhaps, you do not trust my word?"

His voice was light, careless even, but all the same that question had 'trap' written all over it in letters so big even the rapidly paling Algae-brain could read them.

"None of us would dare doubt your honour, Councilor Sarethi," Andas intervened. "And as she is no longer a likely suspect, I am happy to release her into your custody."

"Very well," Sarethi said. "We'll be at the Flowers of Gold, should you have need of us."

Didn't I get a say in any of this?

I didn't bother asking, the answer was that obvious.

*****

Notes: Watch me flail about trying to write cops... let me know if it's too desperately unrealistic, especially the unprofessional sniping in front of the suspect. (It's actually been toned down; version 1 had a full-blown argument along with Adryn despairing for the future of her race, but I decided the Ordinators were a bit more competent than that.)

I also don't know if Nedeni will make much more of an appearance, but I admit she's quite conquered my heart as a member of CSI: Vivec, using groundbreaking new techniques in magical analysis to check over crime scenes against the skepticism of her more traditional colleagues. The tension between Algae-brai- *cough* Suryn and the others is a manifestation of that. Who knows, maybe one day she'll get a short-story spin-off.

[ghastley]

And of course she re-appears just when I'm travelling back to the UK for a visit, and have no internet.

So I just read the last two - which is good, as it's really one long scene - and I agree with the CSI:Vivec characterisation. "Can you just zoom in in that Mystic residue and enhance?"

---

So where are you now? "Back in Germany" is a bit vague, and I'm wondering if it's anywhere I've visited.

[Kazaera]

@ghastley - I'm sure Nedeni is working on a spell to do just that!

Re: Germany - I'm currently in Potsdam, which is the capital of Brandenburg and just outside Berlin. In fact, you could say I'm basically as close to living in Berlin as you can be without actually living in Berlin... It's a really interesting place, with lots of lakes and also cool history - it was the seat of the Prussian kings/emperors and therefore has more castles and palaces than any city could possibly need, and played an important role during the Cold War since it borders former *west* Berlin. The Glienicke bridge aka bridge of spies is in Potsdam.

I'm also spending a lot of time in Göttingen, since my parents still live there and I'm really enjoying being able to visit them a lot more easily than before. Göttingen is where I'd say I'm from, although that's complicated by the fact that my parents moved around a lot when I was a kid.

Curious as to whether you've been to either of the two! They're not places you'd commonly visit, I think, and it sounds like you lived in Germany before the Wall fell so Potsdam would have been difficult.

Anyway. BACK TO ADRYN. Bit of a longer installment this time, and still an awkward end - the next scene is super long and doesn't split well.

Last installment, Adryn got semi-rescued by Athyn Sarethi. Team CSI: Vivec has now listened to her story and is searching out the actual murderer, while Athyn dragged her to lunch. Let's see how this is going.

Chapter 12.3
*****

I stared at my bowl.

It had become quickly apparent that I and House-Father Athyn Sarethi, highly honoured member of the High Council of House Redoran, had very different ideas of what constituted an acceptable lunch. I'd been prepared to get something to go off a street vendor, the same as I'd done last time I was in Vivec. I'd even been ready to upgrade to a tavern or one of the cheaper eateries if necessary. Sarethi senior, on the other hand, made a beeline straight for what my trained eyes made out to be the most expensive restaurant in the Foreign Canton, all protests, swearing, and expressed worry that I might be struck by lightning on setting foot over the doorstep on my part in vain.

I nudged the bowl. Its contents rippled innocently. To my eyes, said contents looked like soup (done up fancy with toasted bread cubes and sage, true, but still soup), and the side that had come with it like sliced bread. It was in fact, or so the disgruntled server had informed me, a velouté of bolete and caramelised échalottes, accompanied by genuine Iliac ficelle. The information had left me feeling very uncertain of what, exactly, I was about to eat, but relatively confident I'd just tripled my Bretic vocabulary in one go.

"It's not going to bite."

Startled, I glanced up. On the other side of the table, Athyn Sarethi was watching me with every evidence of amusement.

"In fact," he continued, "I believe the idea is that it's the other way around."

"Very funny," I grumbled and took a spoonful of the too-fancy-to-be-soup.

It tasted...

One of the professional traits of the alchemist is a very finely-honed sense of taste. Some days, that proved an active disadvantage. (Every day I'd ever spent in prison, among others.) Today was not one of them.

The earthy taste of what I judged to be some sort of unfamiliar mushroom was perfectly accentuated by a hint of sweetness. The soup was incredibly smooth and creamy, with not a lump to be found. I'd spent hours with my mortar and pestle without getting nearly as fine a texture – I was tempted to rush into the kitchen and beg the chef for his secrets. After swallowing, the taste faded to be replaced by...

Just as a finely-honed sense of taste is a necessary skill for an alchemist, one specifically for alcohol can be a useful one for a thief, even a thief who'd rather down an experimental brew than a glass of wine. After all, it can be very handy to know if a dusty bottle rescued from a cellar can be sold on to a collector or is only suitable for scouring a pot, or – failing that – Saturnalia. Apparently, the cook and I had rather different opinions on the matter of Cyrodiilic brandy. I, personally, would have sought out a suitable trader with the warm fuzzy feeling of knowing I could expect at least a septim for my prize. Judging by the aftertaste now lingering on my tongue, they however thought it belonged in soup.

Said soup was probably the most delicious thing I'd ever eaten, but that amounted to not quite delicious enough to get rid of the nagging feeling that I was currently consuming something that cost more money than we'd used to spend on food for the entire week. Then again, I didn't think anything could have been.

Sarethi ate a spoonful of his own soup with every evidence of enjoyment. "Fedura has outdone herself this time. I will have to make certain to send my compliments to the kitchen."

"...right." I stopped myself from elaborating by crunching down on a crisped sage leaf. It tasted divine, and whatever thoughts might currently be going through my head about the sort of people who not only went to the fanciest restaurant in town but knew the chef by name were better kept to myself.

Sarethi pinned me with a long, searching look. I had the horrible feeling that said thoughts were not nearly as secret as I'd hoped to keep them. I was almost ready to preemptively apologise when he shook his head. I glanced down, happy to break eye contact. I'd never realised how disconcerting it was to be stared at by a pair of red eyes – I suddenly found myself with a smidgen more sympathy for the people back in Skyrim who'd had a hard time meeting my own.

My gaze fell on the heavy metal bracer clamped around my wrist, making me uncomfortably aware of the drain at my empty magicka pool. Although the Ordinators had done me the favour of unbinding my hands, they hadn't been kind enough to unlock the bracer, or for that matter offer an alternative to my rough prison clothes – I honestly had to marvel at the fact that the bouncer had even let me in. That thought led my mind to a matter that was admittedly far more urgent than Sarethi's patronage of a place where I had neither enough money nor lineage to get in as a dishwasher.

"Um. Could you be honest with me about something?"

Sarethi put his spoon down. "I wouldn't dream of being anything else."

He was really pushing this true and honourable image for all it was worth. Well, I supposed Varvur had to get it from somewhere.

"What do you think my chance is of walking away from this mess?" I gestured at my clothing to indicate my current status. It was a very careful motion; I was relatively sure that spilling even a drop of the soup must qualify as a capital crime, and I was in more than enough trouble in that regard already.

"Ah, you're still worried. Not particularly surprising, I suppose." Sarethi's voice dropped, becoming quiet and intense. "It's really not necessary. I know Elam Andas fairly well, and he's a true bloodhound when it comes to criminals. He'd never brook an innocent being imprisoned. And he's well on the scent right now. With the information you gave them, I wouldn't be surprised if they have the culprit under lock and key before we finish lunch."

He smiled at me reassuringly. My smile back was significantly more wobbly. Needless to say, this was not how my past experiences with law enforcement had gone. Not even when I was in fact innocent. No, in my experience guards tend to be satisfied as long as they have someone to arrest for a crime. Questions like "are they actually guilty?" are viewed as unimportant hairsplitting – and, in Skyrim, certainly a concern secondary to being able to pin the crime on a suspicious foreigner like a Dark Elf instead of one of their own countrymen.

What if-

"In any case, there's nothing more you can do about it now," Sarethi interrupted my fretting. "Now that we've cleared that up, why don't you eat your soup? It would be a real shame to let it go cold."

Truer words were never spoken.

We ate in silence that may have been comfortable on Sarethi senior's part, but certainly wasn't on mine. Although I had to admit that the food helped.

I'd hardly finished with the soup when the waiter brought the next course – Hammerfell-influenced, this time, so easier to recognise thanks to Charon's culinary experiments... although Charon would probably have sold his soul to the Daedra to be able to cook this well. Or with some of these ingredients. (Seriously, saffron?) At that point, I'd decided that the likely price of the food simply made it all the more important that it not go to waste and turned to the tagine with its side of harcha with gusto.

Eventually, the plates were cleared away and replaced by small cups of steaming dark liquid. Anywhere else, I'd have assumed tea or coffee, but I suspected that would be far too ordinary for this place. Sarethi senior took a sip, then put the cup down with a clink. "So."

"So?" I asked warily.

"So, Varvur told me what you did for him." A pause, then, "Words cannot express how truly grateful I am."

Embarrassed by the intensity in his voice, I stared down at my own drink. "It was..."

Nothing, I almost said, except that given the amount of trouble helping Varvur had got me into that would be such a colossal lie I didn't think I'd be able to say it with a straight face.

Instead, I changed the subject. "Well, I also have to thank you for helping me today." After a moment, I added, "...sir."

This addition was of course a matter of pure calculation, as I was certainly not intimidated in any way at all.

"Oh, call me Athyn," the most noble and honourable Councilor of House Redoran replied. And yes, that wasn't going to be happening. "And it was nothing." His dismissive wave indicated that he, at least, was being honest. "You were innocent, it was my duty. And Elam Andas would always have gotten involved eventually, and he'd have brought out the truth of things. I just... hastened matters a little."

Spoken like someone who'd never truly been on the wrong end of law enforcement, I thought, hiding the grimace on my face behind by taking a sip from my drink.

As expected, it wasn't coffee. Instead, it was a rich, sweet, decadently creamy liquid with a spicy aftertaste that left tingles on my tongue. At a guess, I would say that I was drinking xocolatl – and it had to be a guess because the price of the Black Marsh delicacy meant trying it had always been well outside my means.

"...without your help," Sarethi was saying, "I honestly don't know what would have happened to Varvur. And from what he's said, you went to some trouble to clear his name."

"It's been cleared, then?" I asked. "I mean, I'd hoped the evidence we put together would be enough, but I haven't exactly been able to keep abreast of the news in the last few days."

"It has," Sarethi confirmed. "Disciple Dileno Lloran gave an affidavit that in her expert experience, he wasn't in control of his actions at the time due to malevolent influence exerted by a malignant item. A squad from the Temple retrieved it from my home – we're still shut out of the living quarters. I'd be annoyed at the inconvenience, but one has to think on the alternatives... at any rate, at that point even the Archmaster couldn't argue against Varvur. He was declared innocent of all wrong-doing in the death of Bralen Carvaren two days ago."

"Good," I said, meaning it. Much as I disliked Varvur, no one deserved what had happened to him. At least he'd be able to go back to his life now.

Even if, as I knew all too bitterly, he'd probably be willing to give it all up in a heartbeat if it would return his friend to him.

"And I doubt it would have happened without you." Sarethi paused for a moment, then said, "Clan Sarethi owes you a debt, Adryn of no clan."

There was an odd weight to the words, and as he spoke he raised his hands so his index fingers framed his eyes. The gesture combined with the words seemed... formal, ritualistic almost. I'd hoped to be repaid for my actions in good, solid coin and then left to go my own way, but in that moment I began to suspect Sarethi was not going to let this whole thing go so easily.

Honourable types can be very difficult like that – all 'money cannot possibly be repayment enough', when anyone who has ever been poor will tell you that a large enough amount of money can be suitable repayment for any number of things, when it's really flagrantly obvious that you're at such different places in life that any closer involvement between you is likely to end very badly. But no. Instead of a sack of drakes (or a sack of xocolatl, which I might from now on be willing to accept as alternative payment), they offer something entirely unsuitable, like...

"As such," Sarethi said, "I'd like you to know that it would be my honour to sponsor you as a new member of House Redoran."

...like that.

"I don't think I understand." More accurately, I was really, really hoping I hadn't understood.

"For us natives, we are born into our House. However, it is also possible for outlanders to be adopted into one, if they are considered worthy. There are five Great Houses in total, three of them present on Vvardenfell. There is Hlaalu – merchants and traders, who have power around the Ascadian Isles, the Bitter Coast and southern West Gash. Balmora is a Hlaalu town. Then Telvanni, in the eastern part of the island, the Grazelands and Azura's Coast. They value magical ability and power. Finally, my own Redoran, present in the northern West Gash and the Ashlands. We're..."

"...warriors," I broke in, remembering Varvur's words with growing incredulity. "Concerned with honour and justice and fair fights and- you want me to join? You have got to be joking!" I noticed a woman at a neighbouring table turn her head our way and remembered to keep my voice down. "Varvur must have told you that I'm a-" I mentally rifled through the many, many things Varvur had called me for something suitably off-putting, "a dishonourable coward-"

"Varvur did have some complaints along those lines, yes," Sarethi said, not visibly ruffled despite my rather hostile reaction. "However, I prefer to make up my own mind."

"Well, I'm confirming his stories now. I'm selfish, I'm an unrepentant criminal, and I think the whole obsession with honour you lot seem to have going is an illness of the mind. Sheogorath probably has something to do with it," I snapped.

"Really." Still appearing entirely calm, despite the fact that this complaint had managed to get Varvur so fired up he'd lost the ability to speak and had resorted to indistinct angry noises. What did it take to rile the man? "Well then. If you're such a hardened, cynical sort, you're right – you wouldn't fit in well with House Redoran at all. However, in that case I'm sure you'll be able to explain some things to me."

"Go ahead." I leaned back and crossed my arms, feeling rather nettled. The sooner I managed to talk the man out of this absolutely terrible idea, the better.

A slight smile appeared on Sarethi's face. I had the sudden, horrible feeling I'd wandered into a trap.

*****

Notes: Writing about food is hard. Eesh.

The High Rock dish was made a little more foreign by gratuitous French - bolete = porcini mushrooms, échalotte = shallot. Ficelle is sort of like a thinner baguette, at least according to the internet. Adryn did grow up in High Rock, but with her orphanage past I highly, highly doubt she got to experience its haute cuisine, hence not recognising any of this. I've used Moroccan cuisine for Hammerfell food before and am doing so here. Finally, xocolatl is - obviously - chocolate, apparently a lot harder to come by in Tamriel than here.

Next time I'm stealing dishes from ESO...

[Kazaera]

Last installment, Adryn had lunch with Athyn Sarethi. Athyn offered to sponsor Adryn as a new member of House Redoran. Adryn claimed she was in no way, shape or form suitable Redoran material, is wholly cold and selfish and spits on the notions of honour and altruism. Athyn... would like to ask her some questions about that.

Chapter 12.4
*****

"Something Varvur was rather unclear on, I have to admit, was why you chose to help him in the first place. You could have left him in the cell in Venim's manor, or failing that entered Ald'ruhn with your other companions. But you chose to get involved on his behalf, putting yourself at no little risk to do so. Varvur said you denied doing it for the prospect of a reward, but claimed yourself moved by his plight. Now, I make no great claim to wisdom and insight, but to me that sounds almost... honourable. Perhaps you can shed some light?"

Blood on my hands-

"Momentary insanity," I said stiffly, pushing the memories away.

"Mmm. Of course." Why was the man still smiling? "There's also the matter of this." His hand slipped into his robe and came out holding a very familiar-looking glass dagger. "My nephew's most treasured possession – losing it has driven him almost to distraction. You have no idea how relieved he'll be when I give it back to him. You returned it to our family unprompted, without even asking a finder's fee. Why?"

Really, why hadn't I asked a finder's fee? Too rattled by the nightmarish scene in Hanarai's house, not thinking straight. As for why I'd returned it...

"Varvur mentioned where it was from, and hanging on to a stolen gift from a god seemed like an all-around bad idea. At that point I figured I might as well give it back." A perfectly rational course of action, as far as I was concerned. Altruism certainly had nothing to do with it.

"Interesting. I would've imagined a hardened criminal like yourself might instead have sold it on and left the buyer to deal with any retribution. Clearly I don't properly understand the mindset."

I ground my teeth. So I'd overlooked a course of action. It happened!

Also... that was sarcasm, if I was any judge. How was this fair? How could the universe permit it that a man who'd spawned Varvur, of all people, was using sarcasm against me?

Sarethi sipped his drink, closing his eyes in clear appreciation. Any hope that he'd been effectively distracted from the current topic was thoroughly destroyed when he put the cup down and went on. "Now, as it so happens I also had a nice long talk with young Armiger Romandas. A real credit to her clan, that one. And I must say, she had some quite interesting things to say about how you met." A pause. "Did you really attempt to rescue a traveller from a kagouti?"

Silently, I cursed Ervesa, who clearly had never before heard of the word discretion.

"Rescue isn't the word I'd have used," I defended myself, "especially since no one had told me kagouti were going to be involved. Believe me, if I'd known, I'd have happily left the man to his fate. All his friend asked me to do was look for him – hardly a great task." I remembered the amulet. "Besides, there was a reward!"

"Which, according to Armiger Romandas, you didn't know about until she gave it to you. She said it sounded like you volunteered to help out of... what was it... 'the goodness of your heart.'" Sarethi stared at me, eyebrows raised.

"It wasn't like that at all! He just..."

I cast my mind back to the Bosmer who'd asked me to look for his friend. As I remembered, there'd been actual tears involved.

"He... just... looked so pathetic that I offered to help out of sheer embarrassment for him."

Very convincing, Adryn.

"Really." Sarethi's eyebrows hadn't lowered at all, and the corner of his mouth was twitching. I suspected he was fighting laughter, which frankly was at least as unfair as his being capable of sarcasm. "I suppose the same was true for the pilgrim you guided to Lake Amaya, then?"

"I was going that way anyway! And she-"

I cut myself off, all too aware I was just digging myself in deeper. Took a deep breath.

"Look," I said when I felt reasonably calm again. "I see how you might have... misunderstood. But these are exceptional situations! I assure you that on a day-to-day basis, I'm entirely selfish and cold-hearted. I don't go around helping people or anything-"

"Ah! There is the smooth-skin, where has it been? Miun-Gei has been looking for it!"

Both of us looked up at the interruption. While we'd been engaged in conversation, an Argonian had approached our table... a familiar Argonian.

"Er-"

"Miun-Gei owes you thanks, so many thanks!"

Yes, Miun-Gei had been the name, the enchanter to whom I'd tried to sell my amulet (and thank Stendarr I hadn't in the end!), the one who'd been suffering from an outbreak of loiterers with bardic pretensions. He certainly seemed a great deal happier than the last time I'd seen him.

"Not long after it visited, men came to speak to the buffoon," Miun-Gei was saying now. "Said she had been recommended for participation in Crassius Curio's acting troupe, that a passing Dunmer had given them his name. The buffoon left and has not been back, Miun-Gei's shop is quiet again, Miun-Gei can do business again!"

"Wha-"

Before I could get the word out, Miun-Gei had distracted me by grabbing my hand and shaking it firmly. "You have no idea how grateful he is, what sort of drastic measures it was contemplating before you came to assist. The smooth-skin must come to its shop soon, soon! Miun-Gei has a gift for her, and from now on he will only be given the very best prices."

And then the Argonian was gone.

I buried my face in my hands. Sadly, that didn't in any way help drown out the sound of the honoured Councilor of Great House Redoran collapsing into laughter across from me.

"It's not funny," I hissed, but that only made him laugh harder.

It took Sarethi what was in my opinion a truly unnecessarily long time to get his laughter under control, but eventually he managed. "So. You were telling me about how you don't go around helping people?"

"That- I don't..."

I trailed off, unable to find a way to finish the sentence.

I was really out of excuses, wasn't I.

I swallowed, facing my utter defeat. "I... may be suffering from an unfortunate case of altruism." The words came with a great deal of reluctance. "I've tried to keep it in check, I really have, but I'm still prone to outbreaks if I don't pay attention. It's really rather shameful. I don't like to talk about it."

And that right there was a great deal more honest than I'd have liked to be with a near-stranger, damn Sarethi for driving me to this point.

"I think that has to be the most interesting way I've ever heard a strong sense of empathy described." Sarethi had finally managed to collect himself, but there was still amusement in his voice. It vanished as he continued. "I'd be quite grateful if, one day, you told me who exactly taught you that kindness is a weakness. I think we would have... a great many things to discuss."

The smile that graced Sarethi's lips now had no trace of mirth in it. I let my gaze fall to the table, feeling raw and exposed.

"Another day, perhaps," Sarethi said after a few moments of silence. "For now... I believe you were telling me about how your selfish, dishonourable nature made you unsuitable for House Redoran?"

Mockery, now. I was almost starting to think this was some form of twisted revenge of his on Varvur's part.

"So I may have exaggerated a little. But..."

I gathered myself. Even with my unfortunate affliction taken into account, Sarethi's proposal was still a terrible idea. I could at least argue that, couldn't I?

"Are you seriously telling me that I'd be respected, in House Redoran? I've heard Varvur talk about the place, you can't tell me that the ideal isn't the, you know," I waved a hand in the air vaguely, "serious honest warrior type. You may think I have honour," an idea that still made me cringe, "but do you really think they would?"

"Perhaps they wouldn't. But they should. Honour comes in more forms than the obvious, after all, and it's a true failure of the House that so few of its members recognise that." Sarethi's voice was passionate, earnest... this was a subject very dear to his heart, it seemed.

Something clicked. In my head, everything the man had said in the course of this conversation, everything he'd implied, slid into a whole new arrangement.

"Oh." My voice was flat. I didn't like the picture before me. "You're planning to use me to further your agenda. Sponsor the outlander alchemist who couldn't defeat a blind elderly mudcrab in fair combat into the house, declare you think she's just as worthy as the warriors... nice idea. I have to say, though, that being the outlander in question doesn't sound like much of a reward."

Sarethi's eyebrows drew together, and he sat back abruptly. "That's not-"

He stopped, a scowl still on his face.

...yes, it looked like I'd managed to offend the other very important Redoran noble I'd met as well. Great going, Adryn. Calling him out had not been the smartest thing I'd ever done, even if I could point to truly extreme provocation in my defense.

"That is not why I am offering, and I have no intention of throwing you to the nix-hounds." Sarethi's expression had cleared, but I could tell he was still not happy. "Yes, I believe House Redoran would benefit from your presence... but I believe you'd benefit from House Redoran even more, and I would not make this offer if I didn't believe that."

I suspected my skepticism could be felt by people on the mainland.

Sarethi sighed. "Look- Adryn. I don't want to force you into this. Take all the time you need to think about it, to research House Redoran and what joining us would mean. The offer will remain open. And." He took a deep breath. "If you ever, ever find yourself needing help... please come to Sarethi manor under Skar."

His eyes were intense, and I found myself avoiding his gaze.

There was still a little xocolatl left in my cup. It would be a true shame to leave so much as a drop.

"Serjo?" An infinitesimal pause. "Muthsera?"

Both of us blinked up at the waiter, who'd appeared next to our table without sound. I'd have told him that there was a fantastic career in the Thieves Guild waiting for him, but I suspected he'd take it the wrong way.

Besides, I found myself not quite in the mood to give career advice due to being a little annoyed at the interruption. By which I meant, at the fact that the interruption hadn't come five minutes earlier.

"There is an Ordinator asking for you." The man's voice conveyed the fact that he was certain that such a call could not possibly be in connection with anything we had done wrong, as we were far too well-bred for such. Well, Sarethi was – the waiter was significantly less certain about myself, but was of course far too polite to imply such.

It was a pretty masterful use of intonation, I had to admit. Perhaps he would be best suited for the stage, instead.

"Shall I ask her to wait?"

"No," Sarethi said. "We've finished here – we'll go out to meet her."

On our way out, I couldn't help but notice that the waiter made no mention of payment. Another sign of the different worlds we came from – I couldn't even imagine dining a place where it was simply trusted I'd pay the bill eventually.

And this man wanted to sponsor me into Redoran? He had no idea what he was dealing with. It'd serve him right if I took up his invitation and robbed the place blind-

My internal grumbling was interrupted by the sight of the Ordinator girl with palsy from earlier waiting for us outside. Nedeni, she'd been called.

"House-Father Sarethi." She bowed to the man – an affair that looked rather dangerous and prone to toppling – then turned to me. "Muthsera Adryn. The Temple deeply apologises for the inconvenience. If there is anything we can do about any damage caused by our false assumptions-"

There was more she said, but I couldn't hear it over the roaring in my ears.

It had worked.

I was free.

*****

Notes: My own alternate mental title for this scene is "In which Athyn Sarethi calls Adryn on her BS", and I have been looking forward to posting it for AGES.

Also, wish me luck in keeping a regular posting schedule for a while! I actually have a pretty big backlog built up, am finally managing to write regularly, *and* think I've finally worked out a way around a serious problem I was facing in the coming plot that was a major blocker, even though it sadly requires me to give up a plot-line I'd been planning on since I started writing this. (And means I'm now on my third attempt at an upcoming chapter. :/)

[treydog]

Oh Kaz! This was simply brilliant. Athyn has always been one of my favorite characters in the game, and you bring such life and depth to him. And watching Adryn try to spar with him over her... involuntary tendency toward empathy... pure gold.

[ghastley]

I really liked this "I only help people by accident" theme. Or is it really "I only do anything by accident"?

It's all a lot more credible than the game's "only you can do this for me" attitude, which pervades all the series. Skyrim took the cake. You're not only Dragonborn (which is rather special) but the Last Dragonborn, (even specialer). ESO was a refreshing change, except for the "soulless is a temporary benefit in some situations" thing.

Of course, Adryn is different, with the potential for special, but that's different. Or something.

[Kazaera]

@treydog - I'm really glad you approve of what I did with Athyn! He's also one of my favourite characters, and I've loved your version of him.

@ghastley - I'm very glad that's coming across! There's a few reasons why I started writing SitC but one of them was that I wanted to blur the boundaries between PC and NPC (especially giving the NPCs much more agency) because the whole "you are the only person who can do anything" thing bugged me. One of the fun things about Adryn is that because she's not an adventurer type at all, I really have to think about what quests it makes sense for her to take on (both in terms of "why would someone even offer this quest to her?" and "why would she accept?") and they often end up with heavy NPC involvement. I really want to have Adryn give the impression that she is a person who's living in a world filled with other people, all of whom have their own plans, goals, and interests, instead of Adryn being the lone protagonist in a world full of NPCs.

ANYWAY. I will refrain from going on even more of a rant about my novelisation writing philosophy, and instead continue with...

Last installment, Adryn had lunch with Athyn Sarethi. This involved a nice demolition of all Adryn's justifications, lies and mental defenses to expose her squishy altruistic core. Athyn was deeply amused. Adryn was... not. At the end of it (perhaps the universe trying to make up for putting her through that, Adryn thinks) Adryn learned that she'd been cleared of suspicion regarding the murder of an Ordinator. Let's see what she does now that she's free again.

Chapter 12.5
*****

Back in Balmora, I dodged Teleportation Girl's questions and fled to the washing alcove. Some time later, I emerged looking, if I did say so myself, significantly less bedraggled.

I'd honestly wanted to march straight to the Mages' Guild the instant the prison bracer had come off my arm, but the Ordinator girl and Varvur's father had insisted I wait for her to get my belongings from the Hall of Justice. I wasn't surprised to find the clothes I'd been wearing that fateful Middas were a loss. I was surprised to find that someone had clearly felt guilty about this, because they'd been replaced by a pair of firm-soled ankle boots, a matched shirt and leggings of some soft brown hide along with a blue wool robe with bronze stitching on the border. I suspected Ervesa's influence. Wearing the new clothes, with the grime of prison scrubbed thoroughly from my skin, I felt like a whole new person.

More importantly, although my clothes hadn't survived, a certain piece of jewellery had. The Slowfall amulet hung heavy from my neck, and it was truly amazing how much better I felt with it on me. Some people might call it an irrational attachment, I called it never quite knowing when you and gravity are going to find yourselves distinctly at odds.

Thus armoured, I left the building. After days in that cell, I couldn't imagine voluntarily staying underground right now.

At first, I wandered aimlessly, simply revelling in the sun on my face and the sight of open skies. Eventually, though, my feet stopped itching and started hurting. The boots were a little narrow for me – I'd have to see if they could be altered or traded.

I looked around.

I was on the west side of the river, opposite from the guild and the Eight Plates, the same side as the South Wall Cornerclub – although I'd made sure to stay far away from the place. I was really full up on trouble, there was no point in inviting more.

No, this was the southern part of Balmora, near where Cosades lived. Cosades, and...

In fact, wasn't that Ajira's house right there?

My feet took me up to the roof without bothering to consult my brain. I'd missed friendly faces, over the last few days. Missed people who didn't look at me as if I were scum or an interesting puzzle, missed those who took me as I was instead of trying to slot me into the role of murderer, general criminal, incompetent eyewitness, or (even more bizarre than the previous) aspiring member of House Redoran.

I'd missed my friend.

The door creaked open after my third knock.

"Ajira! It's good to see you, I wanted to let you know that I'm back-" I suddenly remembered that Ajira had Ma'Zajirr on weekends. "-um, if this is a bad time, just let me know-"

I was interrupted by virtue of Ajira yanking me inside.

A few moments later, I was seated in a chair in the tiny dining area. Ma'Zajirr was nowhere to be seen, although the mess spreading across one corner of the room spoke to his presence. Out with friends again?

Ajira confirmed this, then started on me.

"Ajira is so glad friend Adryn is all right! She was so worried – Armiger Romandas said that her friend was in Vivec as she had been arrested for- for murder. Of all the things!" The look my friend shot me made it clear she'd found this extremely unlikely and had been rather dubious of Ervesa's story.

I winced. "That... did in fact happen, yes. But!" I said hastily, seeing Ajira's horrified expression, "it was all a terrible misunderstanding. Mistaken identity, you understand. They apologised to me after we managed to clear it up and uncover the real culprit." My cheer fell slightly at that thought.

Apparently, so Nedeni had told Sarethi and me, the intrepid Ordinator detectives had managed to track the murderer to the sewers of Vivec canton – an act I had to admit I was very grateful not to have been involved in for more reasons than one. There, the knowledge that she had a Destruction-enchanted weapon allowed them to use focused Detection spells to home in on her. Nedeni had fairly glowed with enthusiasm when relating this part – rightly so, since it sounded like a revolutionary use of the spell family. I'd almost probed for details until I remembered with some level of bitterness that my newly discovered learning disability almost certainly left me unable to even comprehend, much less use, the magic involved.

They'd found the woman in a location Nedeni had been not nearly so enthusiastic about describing... no wonder, as the few details she let slip reminded me horribly of Hanarai's cellar. The instant she'd seen the Ordinators, she'd attacked. All attempts at talking her down had been useless, Nedeni had said in a sombre tone, and when she managed to knock out Andas with the dagger it became clear it was too dangerous to continue trying. The woman had been killed in the resulting fight.

Nedeni had seemed satisfied with that conclusion, and no doubt Algae-Brain would be ecstatic at having gotten justice for his friend. The whole thing left me feeling rather disturbed, however. From the details Nedeni let slip, it certainly sounded like the woman might have been under the influence of one of those statues. Not responsible for her actions, but killed for them all the same.

It could have been Varvur, in her place. It could have been me.

I wondered who the woman had been, before she ran afoul of the ash statue. What had she been doing? What had she dreamed of, before her mind was stripped from her? Did she have any family or friends... any who might be looking for her even now? Nedeni had seemed doubtful they'd be able to identify her. Those people would never know what had happened.

What had been her name?

A strong sense of empathy, as Sarethi called it, was a terrible affliction indeed.

Ajira, of course, had no idea of the dark details hidden behind my story. "-very good the evil-doer was caught, friend Adryn," she was saying. "Ajira shudders to think what might have happened!" She shook her head. "It is hard to believe that they truly believed you did it. Of all the people..."

"I know, I didn't think I made a particularly convincing murder suspect either!" Now that everything had been resolved and I was starting to gain a little more distance from the situation, I could see the absurdity in it. "It was a matter of unfortunate timing more than anything else, really."

Ajira flicked her claws, as to dismiss the whole thing. "Well, it is thankfully over now. And..." She shot me a glance. "When Armiger Romandas informed her of what had happened, Ajira did not believe it, yes? But she also thought that, regardless of whether it was true, friend Adryn would not like such a thing spread around the guild. So..." she shrugged. "Ajira made it known that friend Adryn had been called away by sudden business, urgent business. She did not go into detail. Was... was that all right?"

For some reason, Ajira was looking uncertain. On my part, I was fighting down the strong urge to hug her.

"Thank you so much, Ajira, you're a star," I said instead, and the sincerity was so evident in my voice it was almost embarrassing. "Really, I don't know how I can repay you."

I couldn't deny I'd had some qualms about returning to the guild with everyone knowing I'd been in prison on charges of murder only that morning. The fact that Ajira had apparently made certain that news travelled no farther than herself was a massive relief.

"Oh, it was nothing," Ajira said, her ears twitching back and forth as she avoided my eyes. If she'd been human or a mer, she'd probably be blushing right about now. "In fact, Ajira is not certain she did her friend a favour – the guildmistress was most put out about her absence."

Of course. Ranis Athrys certainly wouldn't be particularly happy with me if she'd thought I'd just run off straight after my promotion. Still, I'd much rather deal with an angry guildmistress than the whole guild knowing about my recent flirtation with the chopping block.

I told Ajira so, and reiterated my thanks. It only seemed to make her more embarrassed.

"Did Councillor Sarethi speak with friend Adryn, Ajira wonders? He told her he was planning on it."

I allowed my friend the change of subject, particularly since I was interested in this myself.

"He did. He offered to sponsor me in House Redoran..." I raised an eyebrow as Ajira nodded to herself, as though I'd confirmed a suspicion of hers. "You, too?"

"Indeed. He said he felt Ajira had conducted herself with great honour throughout, especially as she had Ma'Zajirr to look after. What does friend Adryn think of the offer?"

I mentally translated: Was I planning on accepting?

"I think it's a terrible idea," I said frankly. "Me, in an organisation full of Varvurs? Someone would be bleeding by the end of the day, and I'd wager septims against drakes that it'd be me." I paused. "What about you?"

"Ajira is still considering. She... shares many of her friend's reservations. House Redoran is not known to be friendly to mages, and membership would not help her in the guild. And yet, it is an opportunity that may never come again. Especially," Ajira sighed, her ears drooping, "for Ma'Zajirr."

"Oh?"

"He dreams of becoming a warrior one day, or a battle-mage, or maybe even a Buoyant Armiger. Even moreso since meeting Varvur, Councillor Sarethi and Armiger Romandas. As things are, it is... unlikely. Ajira has no way of getting him training, equipment, supplies. All she can offer is an education as a pure mage. Perhaps one day, if she saves enough... but she is told that in warrior training, it is important to start early.

"In House Redoran, now... there is potential there. And Ma'Zajirr is not doing well, at the Cult school in Fort Moonmoth. Perhaps it would be better, in Redoran. But then again, they are not friendly to Khajiit, any of the Great Houses. What if it is even worse? A choice like this, it cannot be taken back."

Ajira looked wretched, and my heart went out to her.

"Sarethi said I should think it over, and that there wasn't a time limit on the offer," I told her. "I'm sure the same goes for you. And maybe you can investigate – figure out what it would be like, what sort of opportunities the both of you would have, without committing."

Ajira nodded. No doubt she'd been planning much the same herself.

"Well, these things may wait. For now..." she grinned, the worry vanishing. "It so happens that Ajira's suppliers procured a small amount of shalk resin for her. Would friend Adryn like to hear of her experiments?"

"You have to ask?" I pulled my chair closer, happily diverted. Who cared about murders, arrests, offers of adoption... there was alchemy to be discussed!

"Well, Ajira started by mixing the resin with water, then heating it to just below boiling..."

*****

It wasn't long after that that Ma'Zajirr returned. He made it clear that in terms of interest, I ranked far below Buoyant Armigers, Redoran nobles and similarly exciting people who had entered his life in the last week. Indeed, the only status I could lay claim to was "boring mage friend of Ajira", which apparently put me on roughly the same level as furniture.

Ajira was horrified, but the alchemy discussion had put me in a good mood and I found myself more amused than anything else. I left the two behind, opting to return to the guild and perhaps curl up in the living area with a cup of tea and a good book. In all honesty, at that point I rather felt I'd earned it.

Teleportation Girl greeted me with raised eyebrows and a sharp look. "Are you going to run off again, or are you planning to let me finish a sentence this time?"

I remembered the way I'd brushed her off on arrival, feeling slightly guilty. It had been rude.

"Sorry, I was in a bit of a hurry."

"Well, all right," Teleportation Girl grumbled. "I only wanted to let you know that a letter came in for you just now."

I took the sealed envelope she gave me with a raised eyebrow. Noting Teleportation Girl's curious look, I decided to remove myself to the kitchen area before opening it.

One thing I had to admit: the missive was truly excellent at its job. Some letters go on for paragraphs, even pages, in order to induce a proper sense of impending doom in their recipients. Some don't never manage it at all, using all their best verbiage and ominous handwriting but still only managing to instill a vague sense of puzzlement in the reader.

This letter, now – this letter scoffed at such amateurs and incompetents. This letter was a true expert, one who had achieved the pinnacle of its art. Younger messages must cluster around to learn from it. I could almost hear them oohing and aahing as the letter managed to reduce me to a puddle of dread with only the following:

Muthsera Adryn,

I'd like to discuss a matter related to the research materials you delivered to me last week. I await you at your earliest convenience.

Regards,

Caius Cosades

The true meaning was even shorter!

Worthless recruit,

I want to see you yesterday.

There went my relaxing afternoon spent enjoying my freedom.

*****

[treydog]

I also curled up with a cup of tea and had a wonderful read. Sadly for my "accidental empathy," my reaction to the letter was quite different than Adryn's. I feel a sense of positive anticipation.

The time spent with Ajira was a beautiful interlude for us as well as for our poor, put-upon mage in training (and possible Redoran?- I know her feelings, but Athyn can be awfully persuasive).

Wonderful as always.

[Kazaera]

@treydog - thank you! I suspect your sense of "accidental empathy" is functioning much as mine, then (it's probably no surprise to anyone I find it hilarious to dump Adryn in these situations.) As for Redoran... you'll have to wait and see! I will agree Athyn can be very persuasive, and he certainly has no intention of giving up...

Last installment, Adryn returned triumphant from her trials in Vivec (involving mistaken identities and serial killers), and immediately went to tell Ajira all about them. She returned to the Mages' Guild to find a letter waiting for her: Caius Cosades, the person who recruited her into the Blades, wants to see her right now.

Let's see what his reaction is to Adryn's exploits.

Chapter 12.6
*****

"You know," Cosades said, pacing, "there's something I usually tell new recruits."

I watched in silence from where I huddled near the door. He hadn't offered me a chair, and I hadn't asked.

"Namely this. For the love of Talos, be inconspicuous. Don't do flashy things, don't make yourself known, don't draw attention. After all, how are you supposed to gather information for the Empire if all eyes are on you?"

If I tried hard enough, could I actually become one with this wall?

"Now, as it so happens," Cosades continued. "I didn't give you that advice. Figured you didn't need it. Figured you weren't the glory-hound type. Figured that, skittish as you were, you'd just try to disappear."

The man stopped pacing, looking directly at me for the first time since I'd come in. I flinched from his burning gaze. Alas, despite my heartfelt wishes the wall and I remained separate beings.

"Well, it seems I miscalculated just a smidgen on that front. Isn't that right?" A moment's pause. "I said, isn't that right, Novice Adryn?" he barked.

I flinched. "...um. Yes, sir." My voice was tiny.

Cosades rolled his eyes. "'Yes, sir', she mumbles, quiet as a mouse. I could almost think I misunderstood! Maybe this," he reached for a roll of parchment on the table, "is only my imagination. Ah... yes... let's see here...

"The recruit," he read out, "appears to have made a significant impression on Buoyant Armiger Romandas. After the events near Lake Amaya and in Suran, Romandas appears to be making an effort to stay in contact. Of note is the delivery of flowers and an enchanted amulet-"

Cosades broke off, glaring at me.

"The Buoyant Armigers are a very dangerous group. They're given a great deal of independence, they have a direct channel of communication to the very top of the Temple hierarchy, and unlike the Ordinators their leader likes to encourage a certain brand of... curiosity." Cosades made a face. Apparently in his eyes, curiosity was a mortal sin. "I advise all my junior agents to avoid them on principle. But here comes Novice Adryn! Three days on the island, and you have one of them sending you flowers."

Cosades' ceiling was really very interesting. If you squinted a little, those cracks almost formed a map of Skyrim.

"But, of course, that was only the warm-up." I heard parchment rustle as I stared up at Morthal in stain form. "Let's see here... recruit was travelling through the West Gash accompanied by Varvur Sarethi, son of Redoran Councillor Athyn Sarethi, after rescuing him from imprisonment by Redoran Archmaster Bolvyn Venim. I must admit, you're ambitious with your friends, but it pales next to your enemies. One week, and you've made a mortal enemy of the Archmaster of House Redoran! If you'd asked me, I wouldn't have said that was even possible."

"It was an accident!"

I clamped my mouth shut, but too late.

"Is that so, Novice Adryn?" Cosades' tone was glacial. "In that case, I never want to see what happens if you set out to offend someone on purpose."

A thump. Despite myself, my eyes left ceiling-Skyrim to return to Cosades, who'd hit the table with his first.

"My understanding is that since we last met you have managed to befriend a Buoyant Armiger, make Bolvyn Venim far angrier than is healthy, put Athyn Sarethi into your debt, uncover a dangerous conspiracy in Ald'ruhn, gain an open invitation to join House Redoran, and – oh yes – be arrested for the murder of an Ordinator and cleared of all charges. Apparently Elam Andas was very impressed with your helpfulness in the investigation, and believes you deserve a large part of the credit for them tracking down a serial killer."

Cosades' eyebrows would probably achieve flight if they went up any higher. I found myself deeply angry at the unfairness of the world. If there was any justice at all, the ground would have swallowed me up by now.

"Well? Does that about cover it? Have I missed anything? Did the leader of the Imperial Cult declare a blood feud? Did Archmagister Gothren offer to adopt you?"

...there had been that encounter with Crassius Curio, who I gathered was a noble of some rank in House Hlaalu. But Cosades didn't need to know about that, especially as I was mysteriously vague on the details.

"Well, then," Cosades said when I remained silent. "What's done is done, and it might still all work out to our benefit. For now, I have a task for you."

That was not what I'd been hoping to hear.

"It's a simple thing. Even you should be able to manage it without trouble." The dubious look Cosades gave me smarted. "I'd like you to go to Hasphat Antabolis – he's a member of the Fighter's Guild here in Balmora. Ask him what he knows about the Nerevarine Cult."

Nerevarine...

The word seemed to echo oddly, as though we were in a cavern instead of a tiny room. I frowned. Something was elusively familiar about that, something just out of reach...

"Are you listening to me, Novice Adryn?"

I jerked upright, losing track of my line of thought. "Yes, sir! Sorry, sir!"

"Right. As I was saying," Cosades growled at me, "ask Antabolis for notes, if you can. I'd rather not rely on your no doubt pitiful memory for information. Bring them straight back to me. Understood?"

"Got it. ...sir."

In all honesty, I'd much rather tell him where he could put his orders, but it was clear that no was not an option here. At least this sounded pretty straightforward. Ask this Hasphat Antabolis for notes about this cult, bring them back to Cosades. Surely not much could go wrong here?

"Hmm. All right. Oh, and Novice Adryn?"

Cosades sounded almost friendly. That had 'trap' written all over it. I gulped.

"I would be very, very grateful if you managed to do this without running afoul of any... oh... Hlaalu Councilors, high-ranking members of the Imperial Legion, or organised crime syndicates. I mean, considering how minor the task in question is, I wouldn't normally even contemplate those possibilities. But given your track record, I figured it's best to be explicit about these things."

While I was trying to come up with a retort to that, Cosades snapped, "Dismissed."

I, not to put too fine a word on it, fled.

*****

Teleportation Girl blinked at me as I stomped into the Mages' Guild common area.

"Well. You're certainly in a mood."

"Tell me," I asked her. "Do I look like an adventurer? A mercenary? A," I shuddered at the word, "hero?"

"...no. No, I can't say you do. What-"

"Do I look," I barrelled over her, "like someone who'd be interested in, or in fact remotely capable of, fetching something from a dangerous Dwemer ruin?"

Teleportation Girl's eyebrows drew together. "Definitely, absolutely not."

Nine be praised, there was sanity left in the world.

"Don't tell me. Someone asked you to do that?"

I'd opened my mouth and was ready to vent to a sympathetic ear when I remembered that Cosades was, in fact, secretly a member of a famous spy network (why) and my task for him was tied in with that same spy network (why) and he would no doubt be distinctly unhappy if I recounted the events of that afternoon to a random Mages' Guild member. It didn't take a genius to draw the connection between unhappiness on Cosades' part and significant pain on mine.

"Well..." I'd been too obvious to deny everything now. Time to come up with a better story.

"Yes. I was freelancing, you see," I said, remembering the excuse Cosades had given me when we first met. "Thought I'd run some errands for coin. But it was supposed to be a matter of just getting notes from the man! Nobody said anything about dangerous Dwemer ruins."

The last part, of course, being the full and complete truth. I still felt rather affronted at the way events had gone.

Cosades hadn't bothered mentioning that Antabolis would require a favour before he'd hand over his notes, and Antabolis certainly hadn't let sanity, sense and the evidence of his own damn eyes prevail when deciding on something suitable. Even my very loud and demonstrative dismay at the suggestion hadn't given him pause. No, Hasphat Antabolis would only hand over his notes in exchange for a genuine Dwemer puzzle box from the Dwemer ruin of Arkngthand. No substitutes accepted.

"I'd advise cutting down on the freelancing," Teleportation Girl said with a glance around. "No one minds it in Associates, but Apprentices are expected to be dedicated to the guild. Outside commitments tend to be frowned on."

Wonderful. As if my life hadn't been difficult enough already. "Well," I shrugged, "I wanted to make some money, and I don't seem to have any guild duties right now-"

"-because Ranis Athrys couldn't find you after the whole... thing..." Teleportation Girl decided to clarify that statement via vague gesturing, "on Middas. Galbedir's refusing to work with you again, you know? But I'm sure Ranis Athrys has something else in mind. She wasn't happy when you weren't around." Teleportation Girl's voice dropped. "Did that whole cleansing thing really take that long?"

Oh, right. She'd been around when Ervesa had dragged me off to Vivec, even if Ajira (Stendarr bless her) had kept subsequent events to herself.

"Not... exactly. I ended up tangled up in other things in Vivec. Assisting law enforcement, that sort of thing... anyway!" A subject change was definitely in order. "I'll think of something to say to our guildmistress. Although I'm not sure I want to know what she's thought of this time." I grimaced.

"It won't be alchemy, I guarantee you." Teleportation Girl sounded rather resigned. "But it's not likely to be trawling through a Dwemer ruin for some item! Edwinna Elbert's the one who'll send you off for that."

...Edwinna Elbert, who I'd planned to try to catch in a weak moment to see if she had room for another apprentice. After all, I'd thought, Dwemer research seemed interesting enough and perhaps another guildmistress's claim would save me from whatever Ranis Athrys had planned. From the sound of this, I'd be better off with the Balmoran guildmistress.

"Hey, Adryn?"

I blinked at Teleportation Girl, torn out of my thoughts. She looked almost... nervous?

"I wanted to ask you something. You see -"

She jerked, eyes sliding out of focus. "Ah, Ashpit take it- I've got passengers coming in from Vivec, a whole bunch. Another time?"

"Tomorrow morning, after breakfast?" I suggested, and was met with a nod from Teleportation Girl before she turned to head back to the teleportation dais.

I had to admit to some curiosity as to what she wanted to know, but this clearly wasn't the best time to discuss it. After all, Teleportation Girl had her duties to attend to. And me?

As I heard the familiar rush of a teleportation spell, I rescued Ruins of Kemel-Ze from the little cubbyhole where I was keeping my belongings and flipped to the place where Nordssen began to describe the animated guardians he'd encountered. It seemed I'd be getting my afternoon spent with some books after all, although it was sadly going to be much less relaxing than planned.

After all, in the all-too-near future I was going to have to retrieve a 'puzzle cube' from a dangerous Dwemer ruin, preferably without getting myself killed in the process. I figured some research was in order.

*****
End of chapter

[ghastley]

Cosades sounded almost friendly. That had 'trap' written all over it.

That sums up most of TES (and ESO). When you get a friendly request to do something simple, run the other way as fast as you can! Especially if it's a job, for which only you are suited.