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Posted by: Alexander Mar 1 2008, 09:43 PM

Another fanfic about Morrowind you must be asking yourself? Do we really need yet another one? I've asked myself the same question
As some of you might know I tried a hand at writing some two+ years back, resulting in two chapters of something I didn't really like looking back. Though even back then, I'd had the idea for another, a different fanfiction.

For some reason despite the fact that I was very much convinced I was not a good writer, this idea stayed with me through all this time and kept nagging at me. Then early this year I decided to simply give it a go again, and the result is something I'm actually quite fond of. This is the result.

It's a fan fiction about Morrowind, set in the time after the events in the game Morrowind but before the events in Oblivion. It's told from the perspective of three people who play a large part in Morrowind's future, at least the future I've created with some parts told by other characters.

As you'll notice, some events in chapters start a little while before the end of the past chapters, just a heads up there.

And lastly, before I bore you all to death with my rants I'd just like to extend a very large thank you, firstly to everyone who ever read "Alexander in Morrowind" and told me it was good (whether they meant it or not ) and second a very special thank you to Treydog who sacrificed quite a bit of his spare time in order to proof read this story, and who played the role of Editor for me. I'm very grateful for that.

Now, on to the story.







The year is 3E 432 many things have changed since the return of the lord Nerevar, and even more things are changing. Four Great Houses have a new head. The Tribunal gods are slain. Temple doctrine is falling and failing rapidly. Oppression of other faiths has been removed. Many rumours float around, rumours of things unheard of in the very near past; The lord Nerevar wants to abolish slavery, Indoril generals are taking bribes and forsaking their honour, some or all of the Tribunal gods were killed by the lord Nerevar, the lord Nerevar used the powers of the heart of Lorkhan to make himself immortal and godlike, secret cults are rising in Cyrodiil, Imperial legions are being recalled to Cyrodiil to quell the unrest, king Helseth poisoned the last king, Mehrunes Dagon has come to earth in the guise of queen Barenziah, Sheogorath has started a love affair with Azura, Bosmer everywhere are planning the end of the world, Orcs have taken to worshiping Khajiit instead of Malacath.

Some rumours are a bit wilder then others of course, but if only half of them are true the future promises to be spectacular.

This story starts in Ebonheart, in the Grand Council chambers where the lord Nerevar is preparing for what could be the most important council meeting in many years.

Posted by: Alexander Mar 1 2008, 09:44 PM

Chapter 1. Change, for better or worse.


It did not take a keen eye to see lord Nerevar was troubled. And Varvur was most definitely keen of eye. Having been born a nobleman, he had studied with the some of the best warriors of his time. His entire life had been spent training to become a superior warrior, and so he was overjoyed when not a month past he’d been asked to become the new bodyguard of lord Nerevar. So glad he was of being able to finally help the lord Nerevar after everything he’d done for him and his family, having risked life and limb to save Varvur from the old Arch master. It was almost enough to forget the circumstances leading up to it his appointment to this prestigious post. The old bodyguard had turned out to be a spy, and ended his own life before anyone could find out who he was working for. Rumours still swirled that people in Nerevar’s own house wanted him dead. But no matter, Varvur was here now and would do what he could to protect lord Nerevar from harm. On the day he’d first come in he had promised to give his life for lord Nerevar.

But thankfully it wouldn’t come to that. In a small while lord Nerevar would preside over the Grand Council meeting where he would proclaim judgement on the dishonourable Indoril. Last night he’d confided in Varvur. “Finally,” he’d said, “finally I know who’s been behind all this from the start.” Of course Varvur had offered to go after the wicked men or man himself and bring them to justice before the lord, but Nerevar would have none of it. “I fear Varvur, this one is beyond your grasp. No, it’s better to wait until the morrow where I proclaim him guilty before the Grand Council. What better occasion than this, where I rid the realm of both slavery and at least a major part of its corruption.”

And now that time was nearly upon them; outside Varvur could hear heralds introducing each representative of the Houses. It sounded somehow alien to him; back when Varvur had been young he’d accompanied his father once to such a meeting and could still remember being impressed with the mighty trumpets and fanfare so common to the Imperial heralds. Of course now the heralds were no longer Imperials, didn’t even belong to the Legion. Most of the Legion had left Morrowind some few months back. Apparently whatever it was that was happening in Cyrodiil, it wasn’t good. When so many of the Legions were recalled, not just from Morrowind, but lord Nerevar had said it was happening in all provinces, something big must be happening. Varvur remember when the news had come that duke Dren and almost all of the Legions would leave Morrowind. Many reactions could be heard. Some older Redoran nobles were pleased and said this was the time for Morrowind to become independent again. Other, and so Varvur believed, smarter people assumed this would only be the start of trouble, not just in Cyrodiil but in Morrowind as well. Trouble that was serious enough to merit the recall of the Legions would not be likely to confine itself to just one part of the Empire.

Varvur closed the door and was just able to hear the herald calling the name of the Telvanni representative for this meeting, Baladas Demnevanni himself. The man who had been so helpful to lord Nerevar when he came to him with questions about the lost Dwemer. The newly installed Telvanni master and Wizard lord of Sadrith Mora. Neloth, the former master of that city had of course been killed by lord Nerevar when he refused his support.. Baladas had been called to rule Sadrith Mora and had offered his home and all in it to lord Nerevar, both for creating the opportunity for Baladas to move up, and to give him a quiet home away from the crowds, duties and most of all spies and assassins.

“It is nearly time to go, master.” Lord Nerevar looked up; he’d been deep in thought again. Varvur could only imagine what it must be like to have to tell the world that those who should have been most loyal to you were in fact the same people who wanted you dead. “Yes, I suppose it is time. Come Varvur, and remember, change never comes easily, and what is but a small step to some, can be the hardest thing ever for another. At least after tonight, for good or evil, everything will be out in the open.”

Lord Nerevar walked to the door and slowly opened it. As befit his position, Varvur walked one pace behind his lord, watching both front and back. As they slowly made their way down the stairs to the Council chamber, and heralds were calling the name and titles of lord Nerevar, Varvur heard his lord whisper, “How I wish Dren was still here”. Varvur was tempted to say lord Nerevar shouldn’t worry, as he was there to protect him, but nearly as soon as the thought came to him, he realised how conceited that would have sounded. Comparing himself to a duke would definitely not be honourable.

Before them he saw the chamber. Representatives of all the Great Houses were on their feet to welcome lord Nerevar, servants rushed to fill the cups of all of them, heralds finished with their job and now standing idly along the walls of the chamber alongside Indoril guards. At the far side of the chamber he saw the captain of the guard and nodded at him in greeting. Something was missing Varvur realised. Helseth! He should have been here; Varvur himself had sent out the invitation to Helseth asking him to attend the meeting. Helseth had been ill the last few meetings, though some whispered he’d been trying his best to avoid lord Nerevar. He should have been here, Varvur thought. He’d only been present during one meeting between Helseth and lord Nerevar and it was apparent even to a blind Netch that the two loathed each other. There would likely be another apology on the morrow from Helseth, saying how sorry he was for not being able to be there but something so urgent came up. Well, he’d heard those excuses before, and knew just how insincere they truly were.

Varvur moved towards the table; he had insisted to lord Nerevar that he taste any food or drink first before his lord did. What good would it do to be ever present, watchful for an attack and then have lord Nerevar die from poison? The comberry juice appeared to have been made very recently. It certainly didn’t taste odd. Though speaking of odd, that was another thing about lord Nerevar- he hardly ever drank alcohol. Always some water, or comberry juice. It drove some hosts crazy, though most were only too happy to please lord Nerevar.

“Gentlemen and lady,” Nerevar spoke, “I propose a toast, a toast to the future and to change, for without it none of us would be here.” At the far side of the table, Baladas loudly spoke, “Here, here.” There was something about him that always made Varvur cautious. While he knew the Telvanni was a friend of his lord, Varvur had never been easy around Wizards. A cousin of his had once been kidnapped by a Wizard, before Nerevar had persuaded him to release the girl. Varvur remembered the stories when she came home, but even before then. Everything in his upbringing had been about what he could see, paying attention to his surroundings, knowing what went on all the time, but how can you know what goes on when you’re not even sure if some Wizard is invisible inside the very room? How can you prepare for a fireball or lightning bolt coming at you from miles away? Just thinking about it gave Varvur the creeps.

Posted by: Agent Griff Mar 1 2008, 10:05 PM

I liked the first chapter. Anything involving politics is great in my book, and meetings like this one featured here, with the major leaders of Morrowind, are always great fun to observe. The various personalities that participate, always make these meetings a unique way to flesh out your characters, both villains and heroes.

So far, I like this Varvur. He seems to be the typical bodyguard character, always looking out for his master's safety. I'm sure he has more to him than that. My own Arthago is pretty similar to Varvur in that aspect, he might appear as simply Lhotun's strong-arm, but he has much more to his personality than that, as I'm sure those who have followed my fan fic have noticed.

In all sincerity () I think we have a possibly great fan fic on our hands. I expect to see how the council meeting will go, eagerly.

Posted by: The Metal Mallet Mar 1 2008, 10:12 PM

So Alexander, stepping up to the plate once again eh? So far, things are looking good. I especially like the time period you've established as the ability to do whatever you want is basically there and there are certainly many questions that could've been asked after Dagoth Ur was defeated.

And to leave us right away with a cliff hanger, how cruel! I wanna know who this traitor is!

Posted by: Alexander Mar 1 2008, 10:14 PM

hehe, thanks :-)



Well, the entire story is already finished actually, so I plan on updating this every day with about two word pages worth of text. So you'll find out soon

Posted by: milanius Mar 1 2008, 11:27 PM

Decay, hopelessness, decline of empires, betrayal. I love it.

My forgotten "Prelude to Oblivion" was also based on presumption that all things must come to an end - not a happy end, of course.

Posted by: Olen Mar 2 2008, 12:22 AM

Nice stuff. Quite a subtle opener, I'll certainly be reading those updates.

Posted by: Alexander Mar 2 2008, 11:37 AM

Now he knew it was time. Lord Nerevar was about to start the meeting and he wouldn’t take it slow. He was going to start off by abolishing slavery and then name those traitors who were trying to start so much trouble in Morrowind, those who had been behind the spy turned bodyguard, or was it the other way around?

“Representatives of your respective houses, it’s so good to see you all here on a historic day. I realise many rumours have been floating around these past few weeks since our last meeting. In the past, whenever slavery has come up, some of you and many of my other advisors have said slavery is simply a part of Morrowind’s traditions. To take it away would be to ruin Morrowind, plantations would go unattended, nearly a quarter of our population would leave, the economy would crash and Morrowind would be in ruins. While I realise all of you wish what is best for Morrowind, so do I.”

“How can we call ourselves civilised while at a meeting like this, when we go home to Argonians and Khajiit, no less then us, slaving away all day long in the hot sun on plantations or in the darkness of the mines. Some of them having been born on those same plantations, to parents captured and taken here, some of them taken themselves with families back home in Elsweyr or Black Marsh, or sometimes not at all when the men who took them killed their parents, or their children because they were too old, or too young to be sold into slavery.”

“I’ve seen slaves killed for trying to run away, tortured for standing up to one who killed their fellow for being too old to work, blinded for looking at a guard the wrong way. And of course we all know why no one ever sees young Khajiit and Argonians, don’t we?” At that Varvur saw quite a few of the councillors look away in embarrassment.

“This ends now, I say. I will no longer stand for this. Councillors, hear my words and mark them carefully, will ye or nill ye: henceforth, keeping slaves is forbidden. At the end of this meeting you shall return to your houses, and spread the word. Exactly one week from now, every slave must be set free. Their bracelets will be removed, and if they so require, their former owner must supply them with enough money and goods to be able to return to their province of origin.”

“Any man or woman who, after hearing this, so much as touches a slave without their consent will be punished as if he laid an ill-intended hand on my own person. Any former slaver who strikes a newly freed slave will be taken by the local magistrate and whipped in the town square of the town closest to their home. Hear me and hear me carefully, slavery is from this moment forward, until the very end of rimes, abolished in Morrowind.”

Varvur knew that if he’d dropped a needle, he would have been able to hear it fall. Everyone in the room was quiet. Most were looking sullenly but he could clearly see Baladas and Ilmeni Dren, newly introduced councillor of the Redoran, smile. Balen Omal of House Dres looked especially annoyed. Who could blame him though, when most of his House’s fortune relied on the very thing just abolished.

Just then the door to the Council chambers opened with a loud crash. Everywhere in the room Varvur saw guards reaching for their weapons and on instinct he did the same. Men rushed at the door to stop whoever it was that forced his way in like this. Servants scattered, Councillors either drew their weapons and advanced on the door, or stood silently muttering phrases to incantations. Varvur found himself on the other side of the table faster then he could remember moving before and was ready to fend off any threat.

But as swift as the tension had risen, Varvur felt himself relaxing again, for there in the door stood but one person, the jester who had recently washed ashore. A small Mer, even for a Bosmer, he took to wearing fancy and very colourful clothes and was obviously simpleminded. He limped into the chambers, wearing his hat with bells ringing and clutching his juggling balls protectively. They were the only things with him when he’d been found by one of the healers of the Imperial Cult, or, well the only healer of the cult that remained in Ebonheart. The jester had been found with nothing else, not even clothing on his back. And even now, some few weeks later, no one had even so much as been able to find out what he was called. All he seemed to want to do was juggle his balls. Some said they’d seen him at night juggling cats, but most people assumed those were just silly rumours.

This time though he did not have his usual smile, instead he looked terrified at all the weapons drawn on him and everyone who stood menacingly around him. It was the Captain of the Guard finally who gave the order for men to sheath their weapons again and who helped the jester up. He gently coerced him out of the chambers assuring him that no one wanted to hurt him or take away his balls, that he’d only come at a bad time.
After the door was closed and people were returning to their seats, it was lord Nerevar who spoke.

“Well, that was certainly.. interesting. Heh, I’m sure he never considered any time could be a bad time for cat juggling.“ Everyone in the room laughed. Varvur had noticed lord Nerevar always knew what to say to take the tension away from people. “Now then, on to more pressing matters. Councillors, what I’m about to speak on next will come as a surprise to some of you, but not to all.” Lord Nerevar paused to drink from his cup. “This past month I’ve been looking into many events of the past few years and have found evidence of corruption in every house, and on every level.” Lord Nerevar paused as if thinking how to continue; standing behind him Varvur was unable to see his eyes, but from the expressions of the councillors closest by, something appeared to be amiss. Then Varvur saw lord Nerevar bend his head slightly and look down at his cup, and knew at once he’d made a terrible mistake. He rushed forward and was just in time to catch Nerevar when he crashed to the ground. Turning him around, Varvur looked into the eyes of the man who had saved him from certain death, the man whom he had sworn to protect or die trying, and from the vacant stare, knew that he had failed. He’d forgotten one of the basic things he had been taught; when there’s a crowd, don’t just look at the busy place, never forget to look at the quiet places as well.

Around him Varvur heard voices, many voices casting healing spells, calling for a healer, praying to one god or another, but all Varvur could do was stare into those now vacant eyes.

Posted by: minque Mar 2 2008, 02:31 PM

Ahhh Alex my friend! So good to see another great piece of writing from you. This is really a very good start, I notice you use dear Varvur as one of your "specials" That pleases me a great deal. Your interpretation of Varv differs from mine, and that makes it intriguing. I'm glad to hear you'll be updating frequently.....

S.G.M

Posted by: Alexander Mar 2 2008, 06:51 PM

Chapter 2. Losing a friend.

Baladas Demnevanni knew he’d remember that moment for the rest of his life. The day had started normally enough, if you could call any council meeting with former enemies normal. Slavery was gone, abolished. Well there was no surprise there; Divayth Fyr had told him after the last council meeting that this would come. And even before that, since first meeting lord Nerevar, Baladas knew it was only a matter of time before he made this ruling. Baladas himself had not kept slaves for many centuries. He assumed none who had even spoken to Divayth Fyr, really spoken to him, would have wanted to keep slaves afterwards. So, slavery had been abolished, and then all of a sudden with a big bang the door had swung inwards.

He assumed, just as most people would, that after so many peaceful council meetings, the peace would be disturbed by an attack. But the tension left quickly dissipated. It had only been the silly Jester with bad timing. Everything settled down again, but then just as lord Nerevar was starting on his next item, corruption, he fell quiet and a look of both shock and surprise crossed his face. Baladas knew something was wrong; the moment he saw that look he knew something had happened. And then, when lord Nerevar had looked down to his cup, Baladas knew. He didn’t want to know, he didn’t want to even consider it, but he knew all the same. Lord Nerevar had been poisoned and would not live another hour.

As lord Nerevar was falling to the floor, Baladas saw the lord’s bodyguard rush forward to try and catch him. He was rising at the same moment, chanting incantations of healing and rushed forward, pushed Ilmeni out of the way and knelt above lord Nerevar. He cast his spell, and then another, and then yet another, but lord Nerevar did not so much as stir. Baladas stood up, looking down at lord Nerevar, still clutched by his bodyguard.

He hadn’t felt this powerless since being trained by Divayth Fyr, many centuries before, but right now he did feel helpless and powerless. If only he’d been more attentive; any retainer could have seen through this diversion, but he a true Telvanni master had fallen for it; hook, line and sinker. How he would be able to return to Divayth and explain how he’d allowed such a good friend to die, while he was in the same room, he did not know.

He also didn’t know how long he’d stood there; he saw the bodyguard finally letting go of the body of his lord, and that the priests were already casting spells to preserve the body. He noticed the glazed over look in the guard’s eyes, and he also saw Ilmeni look at him. With a determined stride the guard walked out of the chambers, apparently heading towards his own room. Ilmeni was fast trailing behind him, calling his name, but the guard didn’t seem to hear her.

Baladas was torn; he was pretty sure what the guard was going to do, and on one hand he did not mind at all, good riddance to a bad bodyguard. On the other hand however, it was the son of the Redoran Grandmaster and if he could do the Redoran a favour, who knew what it would be good for in the coming, sure to be trying, months.

His instinct was correct; as he walked into the room of the guard, he saw him with a blade in his hand, obviously intent on cutting himself. Ilmeni was trying desperately to use all of her weight to hold back the one hand holding the dagger. Baladas quickly stepped forward and held on to the arm as well. At the same time he muttered an easy spell, and the guard relaxed his body all at once. A simple sleep spell was often enough to take out even an experienced warrior, especially when the warrior was unprepared.

Taking the blade away from him, he helped Ilmeni put him to bed. Ilmeni thanked him, of course, though she also managed to stay as far away from him as she could without appearing impolite. It wasn’t something Baladas was surprised at. There were but a few people in Morrowind who felt confident enough to be in the same room with someone the likes of him, or Divayth Fyr, or some others he could name. Oh well, if that was the price of power, Baladas was more then willing to pay it.

Leaving the late lord Nerevar’s bodyguard in his bed, with Ilmeni watching over him, and after promising he would send Ilmeni’s servants to her if he should happen to see one, Baladas returned to the council chambers. They had removed the body of lord Nerevar; it was probably already lying on the Imperial Cult altar downstairs. At the long table two priests were trying to bewitch the cup Nerevar had been drinking from. Likely they were trying to determine what poison had been in the juice and track down the perpetrator that way. At the other side of the room, the Captain of the guards here in Ebonheart and the Dres representative, a Vizier by the looks of it, were questioning the guards. Baladas knew that would prove fruitless. He’d been at the back, looking at all the guards and most of the servants, they’d all been looking at the door and had all seen the same thing. They had also turned back around at the same time. No, nothing would come from that.

Baladas also knew he would have to bring word of this to Divayth Fyr as soon as possible, but leaving now would appear suspicious to say the least. It was a well-known fact that Telvanni didn’t shy away from using poisons to get ahead in their house. Instead, he turned to the two priests examining the cup and offered them his assistance. Again, that apprehensive look shot his way; under different circumstances it might have brought him joy, but not now. The priests agreed, and Baladas waited until the priests had tried what they could, and then cast his own spells.

He spent the better part of the afternoon casting spells on that dreaded cup; in the end he was nearly ready to throw the entire thing out the window. For some reason, none of his spells, and none of the priests’ spells, gave them any information. No poison presented itself, no anomaly was detected; for all they could tell it was pure and 100% Comberry juice. The only thing Baladas could think of to explain this was that somehow the poison must have been added before the Juice was made, perhaps as early as when the ingredients were growing on the land, maybe in the water used to water them. That would certainly make it appear as if no alien substance was present, if nothing was added but the juice itself, his best spells would be useless.

He was taken out of his ponderings by the Captain of the guards who came up to him and asked him the same questions he’d been asking people all afternoon.

Posted by: Agent Griff Mar 2 2008, 08:18 PM

Hm, using the jester as a diversion was a cunning move. I liked the desperation described in the council chambers afterwards and how you detail the expression of the councilors as they listen to Nerevar's reforms. Great work thus far. Spewing out updates like a machine gun though, can be a little daunting for readers. I've learned that the hard way.

Posted by: Steve Mar 2 2008, 09:18 PM

Ahh! But readers enjoy this if they read behind the machine gun and in a bunker! no?

A genius story if you ask me! So please ask!
The death of Lord Nerevar was absolutely perfect! Such tragedy tied in with the poor bodyguard. It was GENIUS!!!

You used the different perspectives skillfully and I applaud that greatly. I never read a story that had be hooked on chapter 1. But! You have!!! I can't wait for more!

By the way, if you want to drop a bomb instead of shooting sing shots, that is fine with me! lol

Posted by: Alexander Mar 2 2008, 09:40 PM

Well, the story is already finished and over a hundred pages. So if I update it twice daily, with two pages each time, I figure in about 25 days the entire story will be here. I don't want to draw it out too long



hehe, nope, no bombs in my story

Posted by: milanius Mar 2 2008, 10:28 PM

awwww :'(

Posted by: minque Mar 2 2008, 11:12 PM

Ahaaa....hmmm...so Lord Nerevar's story ended that way? Interesting I may say! I'm so glad updates will come rapidly, 'cause this will be an interesting plot, can't wait 'til the morrow when next chapter will be up!

Posted by: treydog Mar 3 2008, 01:29 AM

I am very glad that Alexander decided to return to writing; this story is quite a masterpiece. The varied points of view make for a fascinating narrative structure, given that each person brings their own perspective and history to the events that they observe. It was an honor to be asked to proof this work; and any typos, spelling, or punctuation errors are my own.

Fine work, Alexander

Posted by: The Metal Mallet Mar 3 2008, 03:32 AM

Wow, I wasn't expecting a successful assassination attempt. This certainly changes things and it's going to provide a neat twist for the rest of this tale. Excellent work.

Posted by: Alexander Mar 3 2008, 09:18 AM

“Do you remember what you saw? Explain exactly what you saw. Was there anything out of the ordinary, anything unusual?”

And by the looks of the Captain, Baladas was right in assuming he was adding nothing new, and that everyone before him had said the same thing, because the Captain finished questioning him after only a few minutes. He was told the funeral would be held, as custom dictated, in four days time. He was also asked to bring the news to Great House Telvanni; all of the representatives were expected to inform their Houses of the events that had transpired there today.

That was what Baladas had feared most. Divayth always seemed like an even- tempered man, and most of the time he was, but sometimes he could react to something with a fury that would send a Daedra prince running. He remembered the story told by Felen Maryon, another old apprentice of Divayth’s, how Divayth had come to Tel Branora after he heard how Therana had insulted lord Nerevar when he asked to be named Hortator. It wasn’t pretty, and afterwards there was very little left of Therana to bury.

What would Baladas do if that fury should be turned on him? What could he do against the powerful master Fyr? Nothing most likely. Should Fyr become upset and take it out on him, there was nothing Baladas could do but die. And perhaps that was more than he deserved, he who had let something happen to lord Nerevar.

“Well, better get it over with,” he muttered to himself and chanted the words that would bring him to Tel Fyr.

He did not arrive inside Tel Fyr; Divayth had warded the tower so strongly that only those who possessed items Divayth Fyr himself had enchanted with Recall could teleport inside. Baladas looked at the door to the Tel. Opening it, he walked into the Tel, greeted Beyte Fyr, who was cooking downstairs and then turned to the right. Walking up, entered the Hall of Fyr, flew up to the first floor and went into the left room.

He stopped for a moment; ahead of him at the table he saw Divayth, but it would seem he was not alone. Three people were sitting at the table. On the left side he saw Divayth Fyr in his Daedric armor and radiating power, truly an impressive sight. But on the right side sat a figure no less impressive, Dhaunayne Aundae, Ancient of the Vampire clan Aundae, one of few people who might actually be older then Divayth Fyr. But what really got his attention was the figure sitting in the center. He was wearing a black robe, black gloves and his entire head was covered by a black hood. Baladas believed from the shape of his body that it was likely a man, very tall and powerfully built. But what most excited his interest was the power he felt. If Divayth looked powerful, this figure was absolutely radiating with it. Every pore of the man seemed to be oozing with pure power, and Baladas knew that anyone attuned to the aura of magic could likely become intoxicated with it just from standing next to that hooded figure.

It took all of his power, but Baladas was able to avert his eyes and look at Divayth.

“Master Fyr, I have failed. I was right there, in the same room, but I did not see it, and was not able to protect him.”

“And now lord Nerevar has died.” It was not a question, but rather a statement by Master Fyr.

“Yes.”

“Do not blame yourself, Baladas. Some things are simply meant to happen; none can stand in the way of destiny. But please, tell us everything that happened, both before and after the death.”

Baladas told them everything, from the Jester drawing attention away, to the look in the eyes of lord Nerevar, and everything afterwards. When he had finished, the three people at the table were silent. Baladas could see them considering all his words carefully. Not waiting for a response, he boldly asked,

“If you have no more questions, I’d like to get word out to other Masters and the Supreme Magister, and then go look for this Jester. I plan to ask him some very pointed questions about his involvement in this.”

Divayth looked at him and said, “No Baladas, that will not be necessary. From what you told me, the Jester is truly feebleminded and would not be able to aid you no matter how hard you tried. No, but I do have a different assignment for you.”

Without thinking, Baladas interrupted him, “But Master Fyr, we can’t just sit by and let the killer get away. We must act now before his trail runs cold.”

Divayth replied in that gentle commanding voice of his, “No Baladas, you are right, someone has to investigate this event, and someone has to get to the bottom of you, but it is not you. You were wise to save the bodyguard of lord Nerevar, and I’m sure he will prove very useful in tracking down whomever is responsible for this. You however, are needed elsewhere.”

“Likely even now, the other Great Houses will be looking to take advantage of this. There was a reason lord Nerevar was killed, and the people trying to hide something by ending his life will likely present themselves in the coming days. I fear Morrowind is in for some trying times, and I for one will not sit by and be washed away by the tides of change, nor will House Telvanni if I have a say in it, and in fact, I do.”

“I want you to travel to Tel Uvirith, Tel Aruhn and then Sadrith Mora. From Sadrith Mora send messages to Tel Branora, Tel Vos, Firewatch, Velothi’s haven and even Port Telvannis. Invoke a Great Telvanni meeting. Be sure to tell them in the message that I would be most displeased should any Master or even the Supreme Magister fail to show up. The time will be two days from now, so two days before the funeral of lord Nerevar, I expect everyone to meet in the Council house in Sadrith Mora. No one else may be present; the entire house must be cleared save for the Masters and the Supreme Magister. Do you understand?”

“Yes lord Fyr, I understand, and will leave at once.”

Baladas’s troubled look did not go unnoticed by Divayth, who added “Don’t worry Baladas, I know lord Nerevar was your friend. He was mine too. Whoever did this will pay for it, trust me, but for now we cannot have Masters wandering Morrowind and Azura knows what other places looking for an assassin, not with what will likely be troubled times ahead.”

The words made Baladas feel at least a bit better, so he took his leave from the three people, and set out for Tel Uvirith.







Divayth watched Baladas leave. He felt sorry for him, but he knew it could not be helped, not for now anyway, not if they wanted to pull this off. Baladas had to act the part, else things might come crumbling down before they had started. He turned back to his two companions at the table and nodded at the hooded figure.

“So it went exactly as planned.” Again more a statement then question.

“Yes,” came the reply, “everyone played their part very well. And of course let’s thank Dhaunayne, without whom we could not have accomplished it at all.”

Dhaunayne inclined her head in thanks and spoke, “Now we start the second phase of the plan. I shall return to Ashmelech and will be in Sadrith Mora in two days. Have you been able to find the one, Divayth?”

“Yes.” Divayth replied, “I’ve suspected him for a long time, and my suspicions have been confirmed.”

Posted by: Agent Griff Mar 3 2008, 12:25 PM

Hm, suspicions start arising from the discussion Fyr is having with the vampire lord and the black-robed man. And a meeting between all Telvanni lords is planned. Sweetness! Perhaps Lord Fyr is planning to slay them all as they gather in Sadrith Mora? Or perhaps he has made an arrangement with Aundae to have her vampires do the dirty work? They are, after all, the most magically skilled of all vampires.

Posted by: BSD-IES Mar 3 2008, 01:09 PM

Hmm, so who's the black robed man I wonder? And why is our old friend Divayth Fyr so calm about it? And a Vampiric Elder? An Elder of the Sorcery based Vampire Clan Aundae at that....

Why do I get the feeling sorcery has been used here. At the assasination misdirection was used to accomplish their goals. I'm just beginning to wonder whose goals they were in fact, and who exactly has been misdirected. I suspect it may well be us

Looking very good indeed so far, looking forward to this continuing!

Posted by: minque Mar 3 2008, 07:42 PM

Uhhh..sweet Azura! It's getting more and more thrilling! Divayth in the cooperation with vampies? gosh...And the power-man? Who might he be? Lots of (still) unanswered questions.....mmmmm

Posted by: Alexander Mar 3 2008, 07:44 PM

Chapter 3. The hatching of a plan.

Helseth was pacing in his throne room in Mournhold. If anything had happened he should have been informed by now. And something had better have happened this day. Helseth recalled all the previous gifts and money that had been sent back by Eno Hlaalu. Each time with a polite note saying the writ could not be made, nor carried out, and never a reason given. This time, though, Helseth had sent Eno an offer he couldn’t refuse. Or so Helseth assumed anyway. He’d been anxiously waiting for these past few days, and the gift had not been sent back. Now it was the day of the council meeting and still nothing had come back, but also no messenger saying is was done. Helseth assumed it was only a matter of time.

He was proven correct as a royal herald announced the arrival of Raynasa Rethan. She was a newly appointed Hlaalu councillor, appointed by Vedam Dren just before he left for Cyrodiil, but unbeknownst to him, she’d been in Helseth’s back pocket ever since entering house Hlaalu.

“My king,” she smiled broadly, “I bring grave news- lord Nerevar has been killed.”

Helseth had trouble containing his own smile, but knew he had to. He was in the presence of the captain of his guards, a righteous man left over from the reign of the previous king. So instead of howling with pleasure as he wanted to, he solemnly replied,

“This is grave news indeed, councillor Rethan. Thank you for bringing it to me yourself.”

Out of the corner of his eye Helseth observed the captain casting a troubled look at his first man. They knew this would not make things easy in Morrowind.

“Captain, I require your man Drusus for an assignment.” The captain bowed in obedience and the king motioned for Drusus to follow him. With the guard on one side and councillor Rethan on the other, Helseth strolled back to the reception area of the palace. There he dismissed the people present and turned to look at Drusus. He took the heavy pouch hanging from his belt and gave it to Drusus.

“Take this; use it to bribe councillor Yngling Half-Troll. Convince him the only future of house Hlaalu lies in handing control over to me. When you have his support, travel to Omani and Ules manors and persuade those two hags of the same. No money is required; a stern word is more then enough to get them in line, that and the fact that two other councillors will already be voting for me. Then when you have their support, in writing of course, take all the mandates and visit Councillor Curio in Vivec. Ask leave to stay as his guest and propose he relinquish control over house Hlaalu to me. He’ll likely refuse, but that is to be expected.”

“And what would you have us do with Councillor Bero?” Raynasa asked.

“Now Dram, Dram is someone we’ll never convince. No matter how much money or lands we offer him, he won’t join us. No, I have something else in store for councillor Bero. A lesson which will teach him honor means nothing, only money counts. Go Drusus and Raynasa, and win me my first Great House.”

Helseth was very pleased with himself; things were finally moving along nicely now. It was only a matter of time now before the whole of Morrowind would be completely under his control, as it should be. For what is a king with no country to rule?

Helseth made his way to the throne room and asked his Guard Captain to send word to the leaders of the other Great Houses, that he wanted a word with them the day after tomorrow, and that he expected all of them to be there at noon.

As he was getting ready to go to his rooms for the night, a soft voice behind him spoke,

“Helseth, Helseth my dear boy, is it true, has someone killed that sweet man, lord Nerevar?”

Helseth sighed and turned to the voice, “Yes mother, someone saw fit to end his time on Nirn. But please mother, you shouldn’t be out of bed; the priests told you to rest, did they not?”

If they hadn’t Helseth would have their livers for lunch, he thought.

“Yes, yes they did tell me, but you know how they are, son. Those priests together are worse then a wet nurse when it comes to worrying over someone. I’ll be fine, son.”

Unfortunately so, Helseth thought. It seemed lately that Barenziah was becoming far more alert again. Somehow she seemed to be developing immunity against the poultices of the priests. Helseth made a note to himself to speak to them about that. It simply would not do to have his mother running around the palace asking all sorts of embarrassing and dangerous questions about the goings on.

“Come now mother, let’s get you to bed shall we?” He took Barenziah’s hand and led her to her bedchambers.

After he’d put her to bed, and was standing over her, he felt an urge to put a pillow over her head and be done with it. He was able to contain himself, though. Having the queen mother turn up dead suddenly simply wouldn’t do. Especially since she was ever so popular. If it hadn’t have been for lord Nerevar interfering that day, after Helseth had hired assassins to do the job, he would now be rid of his meddlesome mother. Afterwards lord Nerevar had hinted at suspecting that Helseth had given the order for that kill, but fortunately the one person who could have testified against him had already been dead by then. Ironically killed by lord Nerevar a week before.

That had been a blow to Helseth. After he’d gone through so much trouble to find a place to stay for the Dark Brotherhood, and gotten the Morag Tong out of Mournhold, he’d had almost a private force of assassins at his disposal. They had performed such great services for Helseth, not only securing his throne, but also making sure any nobles who became too vocal in their objections met some “unfortunate” demise. Helseth had had no way of knowing lord Nerevar was so far beyond the Brotherhood’s abilities. Twice they’d come after him, and twice he’d fended them off. Then he decided to come to Mournhold himself and, after disposing of the Brotherhood, stuck his nose in business not concerning him in the least. He had done Helseth a favour though, when he killed Almalexia. Helseth had suspected for a while by then that Almalexia was losing it, but how can you ask a Dark Brotherhood assassin to kill a god? The money it cost alone would have bankrupted Morrowind, not to mention the chance that not only might the assassin be caught, but also that Almalexia would have wrung the truth from him and come after Helseth.

Helseth shuddered at that thought. But then this lord Nerevar had come along, disposed of the god, neutralised the Tribunal temple, for the time being at least, and brought Mournhold firmly under control of Helseth. If only lord Nerevar had been more pliable, if only he’d been more open to common sense and reason, but no, he had insisted on not only pursuing the abolishment of slavery, but also wanted to battle corruption. It, unlike slavery, was something Morrowind, or at least Helseth, could not do without.

Again Helseth sighed. He hadn’t wanted to do it; well maybe he’d wanted it a little, but he’d have preferred a different way. Alas, lord Nerevar was incorruptible and inconvincible.

Posted by: Agent Griff Mar 3 2008, 10:11 PM

I like your updates and chapters thus far. The different Point-of-View characters are very well done and they all give out their thoughts very well, each having their own style of doing things and personality, from Varvur to Baladas to Helseth. I like how Helseth constantly plans to do away with his mother, giving her poultices by way of his priests to make her senile. Very evil of him. I like Helseth though, he is the cruel leader who does whatever it takes to stay in power.

These POV characters however gave me a hunch you've been reading A Song of Ice and Fire while you were writing this. Am I correct?

I should know, since I've been reading some of the books myself over the past few days and your chapters so far "reek" of Song of Ice and Fire. That's very, very good though. Matching up to masterclass fantasy books is no meager feat.

Posted by: Alexander Mar 3 2008, 10:27 PM

Heh, well funny that you mention it, I did finish re reading ASoIaF in December, and wrote my own story in January, so I guess I that did give me the idea of different POV's.

Oh boy, Thank you for comparing my work with those books, but honestly I don't think I could stand in mr Martin's shadow, let alone match up to his work

Posted by: Agent Griff Mar 3 2008, 10:33 PM

Well, of course you couldn't. But I'd like it if people compared my own works with famous or even semi-famous books. Treat others as you yourself would like to be treated. That's how the saying goes at least. So far I've only been treating others but who knows? Maybe in the future, others will treat me how I've treated them.

Anyway, I'm really happy for you. I'm in a grudgingly awful situation right now. I've read A Game of Thrones two times until now and I already own A Storm of Swords. The problem is, I can't really find A Clash of Kings. I've read 2 chapters from A Storm of Swords until now, both of them about Jaime (one of my favourite characters btw) and already have been spoiled regarding some things which happen in the second book. Things about a certain candidate for the post of King of Westeros. A Renly chap. Anyway, that's really too bad for me but that's what you get when you feel an incontrollable urge to read a brilliant book which is right in front of you.

It'll be really hard to stop myself from reading A Storm of Swords before getting A Clash of Kings, but I'll do whatever I can. It'll be similar to how those Oriental martial arts masters impose self-control upon themselves.

Posted by: Alexander Mar 3 2008, 10:39 PM

oh boy, quite a tight spot you're in. Have you checked online stores for ACoK? Might be asking the obvious but still.

Posted by: The Metal Mallet Mar 3 2008, 10:47 PM

Hmmm call it a hunch but I think there's some misleading going on here. At the moment it appears that we have two shady groups, Helseth and Fyr with his company. Just because Helseth was told that Nerevar was killed, it doesn't mean that it was his efforts that achieved that result. My hunch tells me it was done by someone else.

Since I'm putting my focus there, I can't wait to see how my prediction turns out. To have multiple fronts of corruption would certainly mean that this story is going to turn into a bloody mess (and I mean in the good, multiple forces colliding at once type of mess).

Posted by: milanius Mar 3 2008, 11:11 PM

Expect the unexpected.

Maybe it wasn't even successful?

Nice touch with the 'vanishing' poison. Maybe it wasn't even poison at all. Maybe it was so deliberately prepared no one in Nirn could've predicted it [or, few people entities ]. The jester part is also nice touch. How long has he been in Ebonheart? What could've been his purpose of running into that room - distraction, or premonition of what's about to happen?

In any case, nice so far. Lots of questions waiting to be answered. The pace is also good [2 updates/day].

Posted by: Olen Mar 4 2008, 01:16 AM

I'm liking it, nice background you've laid down too.

And a lot of intreage and politics and backstabbing.

And regular updates.

This is a real treat.

Posted by: Alexander Mar 4 2008, 11:02 AM

Two days later, Helseth was joined in his throne room by Meven Aravel, the Gahprovihn, or faction leader, of house Indoril; Orval Relarys, the Viceroy of house Dres; and Drothal Moven, the Supreme Magister of house Telvanni. While Helseth had summoned Athyn Sarethi of house Redoran as well, that noble sent word that he would not be able to make it. Helseth took this as a sign of defiance and a personal insult, but then he took most things that didn’t go his way as personal insults. He looked around the room, looking each of the men present in their eyes. He’d spent a fortune in gold, jewels and gifts on each of these three to ensure their cooperation. A fortune now, land later.

“Gentlemen, smart of you to come. I hope you fare well.” Helseth never waited for an answer when he asked that, but simply pressed on. “Good, good. Now, on to business. Meven, how are things going with that witness?”

“My king, I’ve asked and pressured everyone that was in that room, but no one was willing to testify against the Redoran. That Sarethi brat must have made quite an impression on people if they will stick up for him this much.”

Helseth cast a stern look on Meven, “So you mean to tell me out of all the guards there, none are willing to testify?”

Meven’s silence spoke clearly enough. Helseth sighed, “Fine. I will find someone. ‘When you want something done well, do it yourself,’ is how the saying goes, right? Now then, on to you, Magister Moven. How go the preparations with house Telvanni? Will you be ready?”

“My king, things are going as planned; I’m convincing the masters we should expand further, and those who oppose it I will take care of before we start.”

“Excellent, Moven.” Helseth turned around to look at Orval Relarys, “And how is house Dres? Are you ready to go to war when I give the order?”

“Ready and waiting, my king.”

Helseth smiled; he had expected it wouldn’t work out for Meven, so now by taking over the task himself, he had only made Meven more eager to please next time. Everything else was going according to plan. “Ok, tomorrow night we have the funeral. Of course we’ll all be there to offer our deepest condolences, and stand side by side with the other great houses, but three days afterwards, we’ll make our move. Now you all remember of course what you’re supposed to do. But just to be sure, let’s go over it one more time shall we?” Helseth hadn’t meant it as a question. “Ok, first house Dres will present a witness, saying he or she saw Varvur Sarethi put poison into lord Nerevar’s cup when everyone was looking the other way. Now Dres is the only house right now whom the commoners would believe; Indoril is tainted with corruption, Hlaalu has never been trusted since siding with the Empire, and Telvanni, well, they’re Telvanni. No one would believe anything they had to say.”

“So, Varvur will be taken in, questioned, he will confess in front of as many people as possible, but then sadly die as a result of too harsh questioning. Though no one will object to the murderer of lord Nerevar dying himself. Before he dies, however, he will name names of corrupt Indoril nobles, that awful Drulvan Vules first and foremost, all of his allies and retainers as well. We may pardon some, provided they pledge their lives to us, but most will die. This clears house Indoril of all taint and will severely discredit house Redoran. We will proclaim that Varvur killed lord Nerevar on orders of his father, Athyn Sarethi, and will declare house Redoran dead, with all of their lands, income and titles to be distributed among the other houses. Telvanni will join us simply to have fun killing people, and to claim some more land, Hlaalu because I order them, and Indoril and Dres to avenge lord Nerevar.”

“We will offer the Telvanni land on the west side of Morrowind, scattering them, and then proclaim them in league with the Redoran and destroy them. Even with their powers, they cannot hope to best three great houses going against them, not to mention the guilds that will join us. In the end, only three houses will survive, and we will reshape Morrowind and share it between us. And of course you Magister Moven, will get the best prize of all, the island upon which Port Telvannis rests, all to yourself as your own sovereign kingdom.”

Hah, Helseth thought to himself, if that fat pig Moven thinks he’s getting anything out of this but the pointy end of a blade, he’s a bigger fool then I assumed. After everything is done, Moven will be the last to die.

“So, is everything clear? Does everyone know what to do?” The three men muttered their agreement. “Good, then be gone, prepare yourselves for the funeral and more importantly, prepare for the days after the funeral.”

Posted by: Alexander Mar 4 2008, 06:54 PM

Chapter 4. Aftershock.

Several days had passed. Varvur did not recall getting up from beside the table in the Council Chambers, he did not remember walking out of the chambers or back to his own room. He did remember someone grabbing hold of his arm just as he was about to plunge his dagger into his stomach. It had taken several men, or women, to keep him from hurting himself. It wasn’t until someone had started chanting, and he’d started feeling very sleepy, that he let go of his weapon. When he woke he found his father sitting next to his bed.

Athyn had aged well. Still as tall and strong as he was in his younger years, all that seemed different was his face. A few more lines here and there, some grey streaks in his hair. He looked down on Varvur with those deep, knowing eyes and Varvur just broke out in tears. “It was all my fault, Father; I let him die; I should have tasted the comberry juice again. It should have been me lying there, not him. After everything he did for us, I let him down so much. Oh Father how can I face people again?”
“Yes Varvur, you should have tasted the wine, and you didn’t. Had you, I would have lost a son. Instead, I lost a friend. Neither is something I wanted.”
“Father, how can I redeem myself? Would not the best course be to take my own life, and make sure my family suffers no blame?”

Just then he noticed standing next to Athyn was a magnificent blade. He recognised it at once as he’d seen it so many times on the wall of the rooms of lord Nerevar; the ebony long sword given to Nerevar by Vivec after lord Nerevar destroyed Dagoth Ur. Varvur had always wondered if Vivec knew when he gave the sword to Nerevar, that just a few months thereafter he’d be slain with the same blade. Varvur looked up questioningly at his lord father. “With permission of the other house councils, I’ve taken the sword of lord Nerevar. We wish it to be your tool to redemption. Varvur, listen to me, you cannot bring back lord Nerevar. You could die yourself, but what purpose would that serve? One thing you can do, however, is bring the murderer of lord Nerevar to justice. Take this blade and with it, slay those who slew lord Nerevar, the man who gave the order and all who knew of it and did nothing.”

Athyn stood up. “The guards here have looked for clues but found nothing. I assume will you do better. Tonight we hold the ceremony for lord Nerevar’s funeral. Pay your respects, and then redeem yourself through justice. I will see you tonight and after that, again once you’ve brought justice.” Varvur swallowed hard at that; he knew what his father was saying. He would not be welcomed back at his ancestral home until justice had been served. But at the same time he knew what he had to do. “Very well Father, I will see you this evening.” As Athyn left the room, Varvur heard him say “Good luck.”

Varvur spent the rest of the day meditating. His teachers had taught him inner rest is as important as skill with a blade for a warrior. Concentration comes through inner rest and, without concentration, a warrior had better find a different profession. So meditate he did, allowing his thoughts to travel back to that dreaded day. He went past all the events that day, and after considering things carefully, he decided whatever had happened, must have happened when Jester entered. He had to question Jester. Somehow, someone must have known Jester would interrupt at some point, and thinking on it further, it must likely have been timed at that exact moment, just before Nerevar could name names, so either the mysterious Bosmer was much more than he appeared to be and had been able to fool everyone, or someone had made sure he would enter at that moment by almost physically pushing him in.

And of course there had to have been someone else, someone who put whatever it was into the cup of lord Nerevar. Varvur reviewed the events that transpired after the door was knocked open. All the councillors had been in front of him, facing the door. So it could not have been any of them. All the guards as well. No guards stood at the back wall behind lord Nerevar and Varvur, an arrangement Varvur had himself made. So Councillors and guards were out. That left the heralds and the servants. He remembered the heralds rushing to a side exit but he did not recall seeing the servants. Assuming the heralds had not done it, which was a good assumption based on their placement in the room, there were 4 servants. The servants had circulated throughout the room even while Nerevar was speaking; Varvur had not marked their locations as carefully as he should. Before he gave in to despair and self-recrimination, he recalled his father’s words. Justice must be served. In fact, it was even possible that the plotters had hoped that Varvur would take his own life, an action which would have hurt his father, one of Nerevar’s most loyal supporters. His duty was clear- he must live, not only to thwart the enemy, but to bring him to justice.

Varvur decided to question the servants first thing in the morning.

After freshening up and changing his clothes, Varvur made his way to the courtyard. He had decided to wear lord Nerevar’s blade as a message to the assassin. A large crowd had gathered in the courtyard already, men and Mer of all races together. Argonians stood next to Altmer, Orcs beside Bosmer, Bretons, Imperials, Dunmer, Khajiit, and Nords all were present. As Varvur walked through the crowd he felt the stares from all around him. He walked past most to stand at the very front of the crowd, next to the leaders of the Great Houses, Crassius Curio taking the place of absent Vedam Dren. And at the very centre, he saw king Helseth standing with his royal guards surrounding him. As Varvur approached, he saw Helseth looking him over. And he definitely noticed the sneer on his mouth, and the almost mocking expression in his eyes. Varvur was glad he had meditated; just a little less concentration and he might have done something that he would regret. Not very much, but a little anyway. The thought made him smile, until he looked at the coffin displayed before them.

It was a large solid stone slab. probably weighing a ton. Carvers had carved the likeness of lord Nerevar on the top of the coffin as was customary in western lands. Dunmer preferred to burn their dead, but then lord Nerevar had obviously not been Dunmer. Inside the coffin Varvur knew lay the body of the now dead Nerevarine, Hortator of three great houses, Lord Nerevar reborn. Varvur had always wondered why lord Nerevar had never sought out houses Indoril and Dres to become their Hortator. Perhaps he had simply lacked time to make such a journey.
The Ceremony commenced, a long line of great men and women all sharing their tales about lord Nerevar. Ashlander Ashkans and wise women compared him to the moon and stars, Divayth Fyr recounted how he had at first thought lord Nerevar was a burglar interested in looting his dungeon, Patriarch SaOmayni told how wrong he had been before to outlaw teachings other than those the Tribunal approved, and how glad he still was that lord Nerevar had shown him the way. And so many more. The Nerevarine had touched many lives in Vvardenfell and beyond.

Last in the long line came the king himself. Helseth started by saying how sorry he was to see such a great man go. And how much he had admired lord Nerevar in life. Varvur had no doubt that quite a few people had to force their faces to remain straight at that. Helseth went on:

“People of Morrowind, hear me. As we said, a great man has died this week, but we shall not forget him, he shall never be forgotten here. It was brought to our attention that before he died, he abolished slavery. As a last salute to him we will ratify his decision. We, king Hlaalu Helseth, first of our name, hereby officially outlaw slavery. Slavery is no more and every slave owner is required within a week to release all of their slaves and allow them to leave their land. They may keep everything that they own as they leave.”

“Now I realise just before he died, lord Nerevar was going to announce the names of people he knew were corrupt and taking bribes. Unfortunately it doesn’t appear as if he’s written any of that down. Varvur, you were with him so often, do you know of anything he left? Perchance he’s left some things in your protection, as we all know how good you are at protecting things, eh?”

Posted by: minque Mar 4 2008, 07:54 PM

Wonderful! It's a sheer joy to read this story...I'm speechless...(And that's a miracle per se! )

Posted by: Steve Mar 5 2008, 12:25 AM

All this plotting is making me cry... LOL!!!
I am enjoying this story very much!
Even though I'm terrible with Morrowind historical whatever!!!

And thank you very much for the regular updates! It's like reading a good book!

Posted by: The Metal Mallet Mar 5 2008, 04:43 AM

Well that was a particularly nasty jab by Helseth there, hehe! Good way to end an update if I do say so.

Posted by: Agent Griff Mar 5 2008, 06:36 AM

I can see Martin's trademarks everywhere. The "first of his name" bit is taken from ASoIaF, since that's what heralds say each time they introduce Robert Baratheon or Joffrey Baratheon. So is the ending jab by Helseth. Martin has a way of ending all his chapters with good ending phrases. Kind of like what you did here. Still, ASoIaF transposed into Tamriel is good in my book. I really liked Helseth's plan and how he described the Telvanni as psychopathic lunatics intent on killing people for fun. The ending jab was also brilliant.

Posted by: Alexander Mar 5 2008, 09:35 AM

Heh, well we are aren't we? I mean psychopathic lunatics intent on killing people for fun. Some of us are anyway

Posted by: Alexander Mar 5 2008, 09:45 AM

It took all of his self control that time, and a long look from his father. Varvur felt his hand on the blade, but seeing the royal guards reach for their weapon he quickly let go of the hilt. ‘I will get you for that one; one day I will get you for that Helseth,’ he thought to himself. What he said was something very different of course.

“Unfortunately not, my liege, though he told me many tales while I was here, nothing was put onto paper. Rest assured though, I will find those responsible and bring them to justice. In fact, I’ll present their heads to you personally. With your permission of course.” And at that he made a deep bow.

Sneering, the king turned his back on Varvur and finished his speech by wishing lord Nerevar blessings in his new life.

With that the ceremony was at an end, the priests using spells would now move the coffin into the prepared tomb just outside of Ebonheart where lord Nerevar would rest forever.

As the crowd dispersed, Varvur spotted the captain of the guards who was present when it happened. “Captain, a word with you if I may; this will only take a minute.”

“Fine, but be quick about it then.”
“All I want to know really is the names of the servants who were present when it happened, and where I can find them.” After Varvur had written down everything he needed to know, he went back to his room to lie in his bed.

Questioning Jester was impossible. The Bosmer was sitting on his bed, with his feet tucked beneath his body and rocking back and forth like a madman. He spoke in jibberish, and all the intelligible thing he said was “I was only trying to help, just trying to make them laugh.” Clearly Jester was scared senseless and would be no help to Varvur.

The first two questionings of servants proved to be fruitless. Tuvene Arethan was a Dunmer who had served in Ebonheart for many years now. She couldn’t stop sobbing during Varvur’s questioning and it seemed all she could remember from that night was being scared silly by a door pounding open, and then hearing the lord had died, upon which she had fainted. The second was Ruccia Conician, an Imperial lady who said little more then “Please don’t kill me, I didn’t do it, please don’t end my life, I‘m innocent.” The third person, however, a very nice Khajiit lady who had just moved to Ebonheart, did have some more information. She had taken residence in part of the now nearly abandoned Imperial Cult Chapels. She had nothing new to tell about what happened in the council chambers, but she did swear she’d seen a boat sailing away on the night of the murder. She had gone to look out the window not long after she’d gone to her room, and saw a boat sailing due east.

Now Varvur approached the place where he would find the fourth and final witness. For some reason he’d chosen to live in the Six Fishes Tavern in central Ebonheart. Varvur was almost certain what to expect, but he was still glad when he found his instinct hadn’t left him yet. The room of the fourth witness was very clean, too clean almost, as if someone had made sure to leave nothing behind with which someone could identify him. The bartender there wasn’t sure when he’d last seen the man, all he knew was that he’d been an Imperial, had payed 2 months in advance and made no trouble. And, the bartender added, that was all he needed to know. Varvur was pretty sure he’d found his man, and pretty sure he knew who had been in that boat. When he checked with the harbourmaster though, no boat matching the description of the Khajiit had been seen for at least a month.

The answer came to him while was questioning a guard who was on duty during the evening of the assassination.

“Yeah I had duty that night. Yeah I saw an Imperial walk past. It was when everything went nuts up there, all the screaming and yelling and everyone shouting lord Nerevar had died. I remember rushing up the stairs and an Imperial was coming down. I looked behind me before I turned the corner and saw him entering the small Imperial Shrine here. I do remember thinking to myself how odd that was, as I thought I’d locked it and the only other key is with the captain.”
“Could you open the door for me,” Varvur asked, “ I’d like to take a look inside.”

“Sure, so long as it doesn’t put me into trouble.”

The room was very small, really little more then 4 small walls and an altar near the centre. Varvur looked over the altar to see if there was something odd about it, but couldn’t detect anything. Walking along the walls he also saw nothing out of the ordinary, or did he? He didn’t see anything, but he felt something. At the joining of two walls in a corner he distinctly felt a light breeze. After he felt around, he found a line running there, a separation of the two walls. And more importantly, he found a hidden lever. Pressing it moved part of the wall aside to uncover a door.

Drawing his blade, he opened the door and found himself in an underground cave. He saw some of the foundation of Ebonheart so he concluded he must be right beneath it. Exploring the cave did not give him much more information, but when he was just about to walk back, he noticed there appeared to be a platform of some kind, some way above the ground. Clinging on to a few projecting rocks in the wall, he climbed to the top and found a small hidden camp. Someone had obviously spent some time there, he thought, as there were plenty of supplies lying around. Most of them appeared to have been prepared especially to remain good for a long time. Whoever had been living here did not want to rush himself.

The second discovery came when he noticed some air bubbles coming up. Still water isn’t supposed to have bubbles popping up like that. Discarding his armour and leaving it at the water’s edge, Varvur went into the water and followed the bubbles. He was lead to a small underwater door that when he went through it, led him just outside Ebonheart to a small cove, secluded from everyone, even from people looking at it from Ebonheart, a place where one could easily store a boat.

He knew he’d just come one step closer to finding the poisoner.

Posted by: redsrock Mar 5 2008, 12:34 PM

Great story so far, Alexander. I especially like the size of each post. It's perfect in my opinon; not too long, but not too short either. By the way, did you get my PM?

Posted by: Alexander Mar 5 2008, 03:57 PM

Unfortunately I won't be here tonight at the time of the usual update, so I'll give it to you a few hours early. This is the first part of one of the chapters I enjoyed most when writing it. I think if you read it, and consider how much of a fan of the Telvanni I've been since the first time I started playing Morrowind, you can figure out why


----------

Chapter 5. The more things change…..

Baladas looked around the room. All the powerful Wizards, Lords of the Telvanni, gathered in one room, and none had even tried to kill each other yet. That alone was a testament to the power and influence, and likely dread, Divayth Fyr commanded. Only he could keep all of them from killing their peers.

Everyone had come, Mistress Dratha of Tel Mora, Master Aryon of Tel Vos, the wizard Uvirith of Tel Uvirith, Master Maryon of Tel Branora, successor to the late mistress Therana. Master Empor of Firewatch, Mistress Arala of Velothi’s haven and of course Supreme Magister Moven of Port Telvannis and theoretical head of Great House Telvanni. Theoretical, because when he stood in the same room as Divayth it was clear the Supreme Magister was not even the equal of Lord Fyr’s shadow. He was too afraid even to look into the eyes of Divayth, let alone speak up.

Divayth therefore spoke “Welcome, fellow Telvanni. Welcome also to our esteemed Supreme Magister.” Baladas thought he heard an sarcastic note when Divayth said the word ‘esteemed.’

“My fellow Telvanni, as you all know, grave things have happened. Two days ago, lord Nerevar was poisoned, poisoned in front of the entire Grand Council. Well, almost the entire council, anyway. I am certain the events that will follow will leave their mark on Morrowind for many years to come. But I also have another matter to discuss. Corruption.”

Baladas noticed the Supreme Magister take a step back at the word ‘corruption.’

“Before lord Nerevar died, he was about to announce the names of a number of people trying their best to work with an unknown person to bring down Morrowind. We are Telvanni, so bribery and plotting comes naturally to us, but until now at least we’ve kept it inside our house. Now it would seem outsiders are trying to influence our house.”

And quicker then Baladas’ eyes could register it, Divayth raised his hand, and threw a frost spell straight at the Supreme Magister. He tried to get away, but it was too late. The frost ball engulfed him, and froze him on the spot. Divayth slowly walked up to the Magister, looked him in the eyes for a moment, and then punched the now frozen wizard as hard as he could. On impact, the ice shattered, and with it the body of the Supreme Magister. Pieces of him flew everywhere around the room and Divayth had a smile on his face.

Divayth spoke to the assembled Masters who were mostly still in shock over what they’d just seen. Not that it was uncommon for a Master or even Magister to “step down” like this, it was in fact more usual to be killed then die of old age with the Telvanni, but it wasn’t usually done with such a large and impressive audience nearby.

“What you’ve just seen is the fate of a traitor. I have evidence which I will show you at the end of this meeting, proving beyond a doubt that our beloved and dearly departed Supreme Magister was actually being paid by King Helseth. Not only was he to limit the Telvanni in any way he could, he was also an informant. For the past year we’ve been wondering how it could be that Helseth always proved to know things we were planning before we carried them out, and this is the answer. A traitor.”

“I meant what I said- from now on, the office of Supreme Magister is no more. The Archmagister will lead Great House Telvanni from now on.”

Baladas was the first to call out, “Hail, Archmagister Fyr,” and others almost immediately followed suit, but Divayth raised his hand.

“Though I thank you for your confidence in this, I have no interest in becoming Archmagister. No, instead, allow me to present you with the new Archmagister.”

Suddenly, a figure appeared next to Divayth Fyr. It was the same hooded figure Baladas had seen in Tel Fyr two days past. Baladas felt scared, not a feeling he was used to. A room filled with the most powerful Wizard Lords alive on Nirn today, and no one had sensed that another person was in the room with them. That alone was a testament to the power of whoever this was.

Divayth spoke on, “Unfortunately, for a number of reasons, your new Archmagister right now is a man of few words, no words to be precise. But he has entrusted me with instructing you. You are all to obey the last wishes of lord Nerevar. Some of you have already freed your slaves; the others will do so as soon as they get back from this meeting. Free them, and allow them to return to their homes if they so wish, but you are also instructed to offer them something different. Ask them to serve you for the coming two years, as warriors, messengers, builders, whatever needs be done. And in return, after those two years, you will repay them with a piece of land for their own, money and the right to live as equals among Telvanni everywhere.”

Some muttering followed that; not every Telvanni was as progressive in thought as Divayth, Felen, Baladas and Aryon. Quite a few were still using slaves to work their egg mines and other mines.

“Be silent!” Divayth said. “My fellow Telvanni, trust me when I say this; we are in for a very exciting year. I promise you, even now Helseth is sitting in his palace in Mournhold plotting against us. It would not surprise me if he accused us of killing lord Nerevar as an excuse to seize our lands and rid Morrowind of House Telvanni. I for one will not allow that to happen. Will you?”

A chorus of ‘No’s’ came in answer.

“Well then, here is what we are going to do. I’m sure you’re all somewhat familiar with the Ghostfence and the way it operated, when it was still operating, that is. It channelled the power of the honourable dead and that power was used to create a shield, a shield that kept Morrowind safe from the threats of the blight, and Dagoth Ur. After years of study, I’ve found a way to recreate the pillars used for the Ghostfence.”

“We will create many of them, and place them along the new border of Telvanni lands, then activate them. From then on, we will be able to live our lives as we want to, without having to bend the knee to Helseth or any other would be ruler of Morrowind.”

Baladas spoke up, “But Master Fyr, in days past the Ghostfence relied on the city of Necrom for power. It’s deep inside Indoril territory; how will you wrest away control, let alone hold it?”

“Leave that to me,” came the reply. “For now, what I want you all to do is this. Return to your homes, free the slaves as ordered, and try your best to convince as many as you can to stay and serve. Also, arm and ready all of your forces. Mercenaries must be removed from your cities, for none who could be a spy may be allowed to stay. Be certain that all in your force are true Telvanni. The day after the funeral of lord Nerevar, we start our campaign.”

Posted by: BSD-IES Mar 5 2008, 05:15 PM

Coming along very nicely so far, but who is The Hooded Man? I guess you'll let us know sooner or later (I hope sooner, darn these cliffhangers!), but in themeantime I shall simply enjoy the ride you take us on. I certainly am so far

Posted by: Alexander Mar 5 2008, 05:23 PM

Well, as to the identity of that person, at least one reader has provided me with an ah... interesting theory. However I fear untill the end of the story, that will have to be one of my best kept secrets

Posted by: milanius Mar 5 2008, 07:27 PM

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/f/f5/Plotter_Gerber_Infinity.jpg

In any case, I don't share author's enthusiasm about the Nine-damned Telvanni. But no matter - story is progressing well so far and it's interesting to see Fyr get his hands dirty. Or a bit frostbitten & bloody, to be precise.

Posted by: Agent Griff Mar 5 2008, 09:53 PM

I liked the meeting between the Telvanni and how Fyr instructed them all according to his liking. Naming that mute guy as Archmagister seemed like a fairly odd decision to say the least. Still, Fyr must know what he is doing. I also liked seeing Helseth's plans foiled, knowing that the Supreme Magister really was a traitor and all.

Posted by: minque Mar 5 2008, 11:10 PM

What can I add that's not been said already?...

The Mystery Man will keep me from sleeping tonight though......

Posted by: Steve Mar 6 2008, 01:23 AM

A MASSIVE SHIELD!!!!!!

Oh, that is absolutely wonderful! Truly a genius move and I applaud!
It's good to see that king not get what he wants!

Posted by: Deutschland Mar 6 2008, 06:57 AM

hmm why can't I open a new topic...

Posted by: The Metal Mallet Mar 6 2008, 07:40 AM

You need to make a few posts first. We've had problems with bots in the past and doing this was a method of getting them to stop posting unwanted threads.

Back on topic: I can definitely see why you enjoyed writing this update Alexander. It's got quite of bit of everything: violence, intrigue, mystery, suspense, drama. What more could a reader ask for?

Posted by: Alexander Mar 6 2008, 09:18 AM

“And before you go, there are two small items left to deal with. In times past, the rank Magister was there simply as a declaration of war on the then ruling Archmagister. No more. Our new Archmagister has seen fit to turn it into an official rank, indicating a Master who shall always speak with the voice of the Archmagister and must therefore always be obeyed. He has seen fit to grant this new title to two people among you, myself, and Magister Baladas.” That was definitely not something Baladas was expecting. “And for our final item, again in times past, people have seen fit to rise in House Telvanni through murder. From this day forward, until the end of the coming war, that practice is outlawed. Any Telvanni attacking another Telvanni will be punished severely by the Archmagister, or one of his Magisters. No Telvanni will prosper through murder of his kin during these times. Only after everything has been settled will the Archmagister review this and possibly reverse the policy.”

“I realise all of this might sound very un-Telvanni to you, but drastic times call for drastic measures. So until things settle down, we will all act very un-Telvanni.” Baladas looked across the faces of the other Masters; many were casting doubtful looks; they, like him, were likely wondering if these measures were really necessary or not. But then Divayth got some support from an unexpected source;

“It seems to me, Divayth,” Dratha spoke, “That this is in fact very Telvanni like behaviour, to use your phrase. In the past, the strong have always decided what was best for house Telvanni, and it seems to me this is no different. And since I would not presume to be able to best the lord of Fyr, I will return to my lands and free my slaves.”

After that, other Masters spoke in support of the plan. It seemed with those few words, mistress Dratha had made things far easier to accept for all.

As the Masters left one at a time, Baladas saw Divayth motion to him to stay behind. When all the others had left and Divayth had restored the spell surrounding the room, he spoke to Baladas, “I realise this must sound very odd to you, Baladas, but please believe me there is no other way. I know some plans of King Helseth, and if we are to survive as a Great House, we must act now before it is too late. We will discuss this further three days from now. The day after the funeral, come to my Tel and we will be there. We will discuss all the steps we’re going to take with you then. Until such time however, this is what we want you to do. Spend your two days travelling between the different Telvanni towns here on Vvardenfall. Make sure all the Masters are doing everything they need to do, and if not, make sure they will. I will do the same for the cities on the mainland; especially Port Telvannis will need much coaching I think, and rooting out the other Hlaalu spies will be trying. We must be ready in two days time- do you understand Baladas? We must be ready.”

Baladas said he understood. And that he would do all he could to make sure the Vvardenfall cities were ready.

It proved to be a very sad funeral. Funerals always are, Baladas reflected later, but this one had been extra sad. So many great people spoke highly of lord Nerevar and all he had accomplished in life. Everyone had a story, Baladas too. He recalled to the assembled how he had first met lord Nerevar, that day Nerevar had walked into Arvs Drelen, and asked to know everything Baladas knew about the disappearance of the Dwemer. Baladas found lord Nerevar to be smart, intelligent, intuitive, and a quick study. Within just a few days, Baladas had to admit there was nothing left to teach. Like a sponge, lord Nerevar had absorbed everything he’d been told.

The low point of the funeral of course was when Helseth spoke. But then Baladas found any moment spent listening to Helseth a low point. He did start off surprisingly, by declaring every slave should indeed be freed. Few men had been expecting that, Baladas was sure, but at the same time, perhaps the reason Master Fyr had ordered the Telvanni to release their slaves, was because of this. Now there was a scary thought- was Divayth actually able to read people’s minds? Baladas didn’t know, but he did know he would have to be extra alert from now on. Before long of course Helseth once again showed the world his true face, insulting the young bodyguard, Varvur his name was. Baladas at one point saw him reach for his weapon, no it actually looked to be lord Nerevar’s blade he was carrying, but luckily at the last moment he was able to control himself after all. Bloodshed at a funeral, the gods did not look kindly on that.

Thankfully Helseth was done speaking, and the ceremony had also come to an end. Priests were enchanting the coffin of lord Nerevar and preparing to take it into his burial chamber. Unlike the Dunmer, it was the custom of lord Nerevar’s original people not to burn the dead, but to bury them whole, seal them in a coffin and place them under the earth. Baladas thought it folly; how was his spirit going to be able to arrive in the heavens if it was locked inside a coffin? But then lord Nerevar had never really been a religious man anyway.

Looking around at the departing people, Baladas thought he saw a glimpse of a figure in a black robe, but when next he looked at the spot where he thought he’d seen it, there was no one there. Was he imagining things now? Gods, he was really getting old now wasn’t he? He sighed, and cast the spell that would take him back to Sadrith Mora.

Posted by: Olen Mar 6 2008, 04:22 PM

Fascinating. You really have me guessing. I like how you're depicting Fyr, that's a lot of magic that guy can do.

And I like the Telvanni, there's something really cool about them.

I'm wanting tonights update now.

Posted by: Alexander Mar 6 2008, 04:47 PM

Then by Azura ye shall have it

Posted by: Alexander Mar 6 2008, 04:47 PM

Chapter 6. Information


Tracking an animal over land is easy. Even when rain and storm have ravished the land, one can still see some left over prints. Tracking a boat however, is quite a bit harder. A boat doesn’t leave prints. Varvur therefore had no idea if he was going the right way. When he rented the boat he was now travelling on, and inquired which place was most likely to be one’s destination when travelling west out of Ebonheart, the answer had been Omayni, a city just a few miles from the coast, west of the Inner Sea and easily reached by land.

They’d been travelling for a day now; the wind wasn’t helping them at all, and were just coming to the small peninsulas that can be found just off the coast there. The outcrops were small, rugged and uninhabited by all save some few mudcrabs. Sailing past them they came into view of the land and there Varvur felt lucky for the first time. On the beach, in clear view, were the remains of a small boat, looking exactly the way the Khajiit servant in Ebonheart had described it. It had obviously been there for a few days already; the fire that had charred it had long gone out and everything inside had been blackened by the fire.

Getting out of the boat, Varvur thanked the captain for bringing him there, and wished him a safe journey back. He approached the wreckage of the boat and searched what was left. Unfortunately he was unable to find anything useful. No clues, no left over things that might give away any information about the man or woman that had used this craft. And the most annoying part of it all, was that nowhere in the vicinity of the boat did Varvur find any tracks. No recent ones anyway. Oh he found many old ones, tracks made by Argonians, Dunmer, Orcs, Khajiit but no recent human tracks. The frustration was almost overwhelming. To be so close to what he knew he was looking for and finding nothing. Then he recalled lord Nerevar’s words, spoken during one of their many conversations regarding their hidden enemies.

“Patience is the hunter’s greatest virtue. A careless movement or loud exhalation of breath can frighten the prey. That is especially true if the quarry knows it is being hunted.”

At once saddened and reassured by the remembered advice, Varvur decided the best thing to do would be to travel to Omayni and inquire there. Luckily Omayni was a Redoran controlled city, so he should have no trouble finding information there. The trip proved uneventful, except for a small gang of highwaymen who tried to stop Varvur, for some reason assuming they could get some gold from him since they outnumbered him 5 to one. After he had killed three of them, and wounded another, the last one had no problem allowing him to pass and forgetting about the “your money or your life” line he’d only just before uttered.

Omayni was a typical Redoran town, with buildings made in the shape of crab shells and centered around a temple complex. Not nearly the size of Ald’ruhn, but definitely larger then Gnisis. The garrison complex stood at the far side of the gates, and Varvur wasted no time in going there. The guard at the front desk looked sullenly at Varvur, and was probably just about to ask him his business, or even worse, tell him to move along. “I am Varvur Sarethi and wish to speak to your captain.”

With that he showed the bored guard his family’s amulet just to make sure there was no doubting he really was who he claimed to be. The change in the guard’s demeanor was remarkable; it was interesting watching him attempt to sit at attention while disposing of the remains of his meal.

“My lord, I am captain Mallam Ryon, how may I serve?”

“A few miles up the coast you can find a burned boat. A man came from it and presumably headed here. He was human- Breton, Imperial or Nord- although short for a Nord if he was a Nord, with fair hair, dark eyes and dressed most likely as a servant. Tell me captain, have you seen such a man?”

“My lord, I will look up all the log files of my men and question them to see if one of them might have left something out, something trivial. But there are some patrols out who are a few days travel from here. Getting word to them, and getting them back here, will take a while. My apologies, my lord, might you consider staying in my home until such time as everything has been examined? It would be my honour to house you as a guest.”

“I’m afraid days isn’t good enough, captain. I wish to depart the day after tomorrow at the latest. I’m sorry, but the longer I wait, the more likely the man is to get away from me.”

“Of course my lord; we will do our best. Please, I will have my servant here show you to my home.”

Varvur followed the servant to a small mansion. Inside the people must have gotten word already that he was coming as servants were standing by with refreshments and ready to take his armour and weapons from him.

“Don’t worry my lord; we will place all of this in your room.” Walking around the house, Varvur was impressed. For a captain of a small city like this, Mallam was certainly able to decorate his house nicely; either he was up to his ears in debt, or most likely, he had come from an old family. But for some odd reason Varvur could not remember ever having met the Ryon family, and he’d certainly accompanied his father to see all the old families of House Redoran at one time or another.

A short while later, as it was turning dark outside, Mallam came home. Varvur had just been speaking to the captain’s wife, a very beautiful Dunmer called Felisa Ulessen originally, now of course she was called Felisa Ryon. Her conversation revealed a quick mind as well as a generous spirit, for she mentioned that she spent quite a number of years helping the mentally challenged. Varvur looked up just as Mallam Ryon was entering the room, and for a moment thought he saw a surprised look cross his eyes, but only for a moment. Before Varvur could be certain, Mallam was smiling widely and welcoming Varvur into his home. “I hope my lady wife has been a pleasant companion so far my lord.“

“That she has captain Ryon, that she has. She was just telling me about the charity work she has done, with the mentally challenged.” Mallam raised an eyebrow at that.

“Yes, I fear you must forgive her; I’m sure my lord would be much more interested in other things and I’m afraid talking too much has always been my wife’s weakness.”

Posted by: Agent Griff Mar 6 2008, 10:03 PM

I don't know why but there is something suspicious about this captain. The signs are subtle but they are there. His house, his suspicious look, the fact that he berates his wife for talking too much and the fact that his wife has cared for retards of a mental nature. The retard part points me in the direction of the Bosmer jester.

Anyway, I hope Varvur's investigation goes soundly and he uncovers the culprit.

Posted by: minque Mar 6 2008, 10:09 PM

Mmmm there certainly is something fishy going on....quite the purpose, right? Oh I can't wait til next update!

Posted by: The Metal Mallet Mar 7 2008, 06:44 AM

Wow, I think Griff has picked up on something. I don't even think I would've noticed that. Sharp mind my friend.

And Alexander: things are still going quite nicely. Keep up the good work.

Posted by: Alexander Mar 7 2008, 10:07 AM

Varvur found that an odd line of thinking, but made no mention of it. The last thing he wanted to do was create tension between a Mer and his wife. He didn’t have much time to ponder that though, because at that time servants entered with dinner. Mallam seated himself next to his wife, opposite Varvur and gestured for Varvur to take the first piece of the meal. It proved to be deliciously cooked Netch flesh, with some spices to make it even better. The servants also kept replenishing his cup. Cyrodiilic brandy of the best kind; again Varvur noted the apparent luxury for a captain. But even that thought washed away after the fourth glass. While the first three had been potent, the fourth had somehow seemed even more intoxicating, and Varvur found it increasingly hard to focus his thoughts, let alone keep his eyes open.

It did not go unnoticed- Captain Ryon repeated a question, but Varvur simply couldn’t remember what had been asked. He felt so sluggish; he couldn’t remember having felt this way before and it was all he could do to keep his eyes open. “My lord, you seem awfully tired, perhaps it would be best to retire now, here, my servants will help you to your rooms. I realise the day must have been more tiring then you thought.”

That was the last Varvur could remember until he woke up. He was lying in a comfortable bed, in rooms he didn’t recognise. Slowly coming to he realised he must have been in the rooms of Captain Ryon’s house. Even the guest rooms were lavishly decorated, with ancient expensive carpets, beautifully crafted vases and furniture. Varvur felt very groggy, and found he still had trouble focusing his thoughts. He remembered the dinner, and feeling so very tired after that last glass of brandy. Of course, there must have been something in the brandy. Slowly sitting up, he spotted his armour, clothing and weapons in a corner of the room. They had all been cleaned. At least no one had taken them away. Getting up and dressing himself proved difficult, but Varvur was able to manage. Someone must have heard him, for the next moment a servant arrived and asked if he needed anything. Varvur asked to be brought to captain Ryon, who he found sitting at his desk in his study.

“My lord, how good to see you’re finally awake.”

“Captain, how goes the search; will you be able to have all the information I asked for tomorrow as promised?”

“My lord, we finished the search yesterday;, you’ve been asleep for three days. You must have been very tired. I even had the town priests look after you to make sure nothing was amiss.” Had he really slept for three days? That was awful, how could that have been? Unless, unless there really was something in that brandy. Yes, Varvur realised that was the only way this could have happened. Damn. How could he have been so stupid? He’d known there was something odd about captain Ryon the minute he set eyes on him. Something just didn’t seem right with him, the home so lavish for such a small time captain, the look in his eyes, the things he said. Varvur felt himself grow nervous. There was little he could do about the captain; he didn’t have any proof of this, and if the temple priests had come to him and examined him, surely they must have noticed he had been given something to sleep, and why wouldn’t they have said anything? Unless they too were part of some plot. And which guards could he trust? No. Better to get whatever information this captain Ryon would give him and leave. He would contact his father the moment he got away from here and tell him there were traitors in Omayni.

“Well Captain, what did your search find?”

“I’m so sorry my lord, but we found nothing. A patrol did find the burned boat you mentioned, but by then it was already too late, no one was found near it. No tracks leading away from it, and no patrol has seen any strangers moving about for the last week. Nor has anyone entered the city in that time. I’m sorry, my lord, but it seems whoever was on that boat did not come anywhere near Omayni.”

“Thank you for your effort captain. I’ll be sure to speak highly of your cooperation and your good care of me when next I speak to my father.”

“My lord is too kind, I did but what any good Redoran would do. Would you not share a meal with me before you go?”

“No Captain, thank you for your offer but I really must be on my way. But thank you, and thank you lady Ryon for all your good care.” With that Varvur took his leave. He wanted to get out of there as fast as he could without raising any alarm. He was able to exit the gates with no trouble, but found himself looking over his shoulders all the way back to the coast. Now what, he wondered. It was obvious that he would get nowhere trying to track the poisoner, and not just that, now he had the job of getting to a reliable messenger as soon as possible to tell his father of traitors in Omayni. The best place to do that he concluded would be Veranis Hall another small city located north-west of Omayni and ruled by a noble. The noble was a cousin of his father and a confidant of the family. Varvur knew he would have to travel fast, with very few rations, but saw no other option. Besides, near Veranis Hall there were more methods of transportation and wherever he was going next, he needed reliable transportation.

It took Varvur all of that day, and a bit of the next but at noon on the second day he came into view of the Veranis gatehouse. One of the guards recognised him at once, and brought him before his father’s cousin. Balen Sarethi was a powerful man, standing very tall for a Dunmer, and while age was creeping up on him, it did not show. He still looked to be in the prime of his life and, after hearing what Varvur had to say about Omayni, he looked ready to march on the town all by himself and eradicate the traitors. He also recalled the curious circumstance under which the last Captain of Omayni died- killed by a Nix hound while he was hunting them, when all of house Redoran knew what a superb hunter the captain had been. Still, with so many witnesses, no one ever thought to look into it further. “Balen, where do I go now? I have no idea where the assassin sped off to, so how can I avenge my master’s death if I don’t know where the assassin went?”

“Varvur, when I was a lot younger then you are now, I was attacked by a snake. Before I knew what had hit me, it was coiling itself around me trying to suffocate me. Your father saved me from it by cleaving the head of the snake right down the middle. I remember he told me something then, he said, ’Remember, when you fight a snake, don’t trouble yourself with the body, for it but serves the head. Attack the head and you’ll win the day’. Perhaps Varvur, that word of advice can also be used in this situation?”

Varvur smiled, knowing what Balen meant, and Athyn before him. Now the trouble was which snake’s head to go after. As he was considering things carefully, he said goodbye to Balen and went in search of transport to Vivec.

Posted by: Agent Griff Mar 7 2008, 10:18 AM

It seemed the suspicions proved true yet the matter has gotten even more complicated. Which head could Varvur cleave? Captain Ryon's? Or Helseth's? Actually, we don't even know who was really responsible for the poisoning.

Still, as I read you tale it reminds me more and more of ASoIaF. There are just subtle things in the text that point in that direction, much like your description of Balen Sarethi. It simply reminds me of the description of a character from that series, in the way it's worded.

Posted by: Alexander Mar 7 2008, 10:24 AM

At the risk of spoiling anything, I don't believe their head is at Vivec






Purely coincidental I assure you. As I mentioned, I did read ASoIaF just before I started work on my own tale, so I guess some things must have stayed with me and brushed off on it. But I can assure you, I did not use ASoIaF knowingly as an example for my tale

Posted by: Agent Griff Mar 7 2008, 10:46 AM

I was never accusing you of using Martin's work as an example, merely that reading you fine work reminded me of it. That is a very good thing in my book, seeing as I can't actually read anything new coming from Martin (I told you about my predicament). It's just nice for me to read something even remotely similar to such a great work of fantasy.

Posted by: Alexander Mar 7 2008, 04:24 PM

Chapter 7. Ascension.

The funeral had just ended; it was something Helseth would likely never forget. He had enjoyed giving that speech; no one had expected him to free the slaves, but he was two steps ahead of everyone. Not even his allies had known about it, but Helseth knew that keeping them in the dark was the only way for them to look surprised. They were terrible actors. What Helseth liked best though, was when before the funeral even started, he had been able to sneak into the Imperial cult shrine just before they had put lord Nerevar into his coffin. He had been composed, and even managed to look sad and wipe away a tear, but all the while he had wanted to laugh right into lord Nerevar’s dead face, laughing, pointing and gloating over how he had won, how he had outsmarted lord Nerevar after all. Yes, that truly was a happy day for Helseth. He had stayed there even when the priests put Nerevar into the coffin, he could tell the priests didn’t think it proper for him to be around during that, but he wasn’t worried about upsetting a few Imperial priests.

Now though, the funeral had just ended, and Helseth saw Crassius Curio walking away with Dram Bero. His guard Drusus had told him Crassius had refused to relinquish command of house Hlaalu to Helseth. Apparently after hearing how four Councillors already supported Helseth, Curio had been very close to agreeing, so very close, but then Dram Bero had walked in, and after hearing the entire story he had been able to talk Curio out of it. There had always been a dislike between Helseth and Bero, but never like this. Helseth knew he would make Bero pay for this with his life.

Helseth strolled along to catch up with Curio and Bero, and was able to catch them before they were at the docks.

“Councillor Curio, my guard tells me you’ve been most hospitable to him. My thanks for that.”

Curio inclined his head, “It is but my duty as host, my king; it was no trouble.”

Helseth smiled, “And Drusus tells me we’re very close to coming to an agreement about my proposal- isn’t that so, Councillor? I’m sure you’ve found my offer more then fair.”

Curio snorted at that, “’Fair’? You would call that ‘fair’? You’re trying to get me to retire, virtually hand you house Hlaalu and spend the rest of my days on some deserted farm where no doubt my death will somehow come much faster than in my fortified mansion. Probably stress related, but still.”

Helseth smiled his innocent smile, “My dear Councillor Curio, all I wish is for you to be able to live the rest of your life out in wealth and comfort, as is befitting a noble of your stature.”

“Sure,” Dram Bero interrupted him, “you mean it from the kindness of your heart, right Helseth?” Subtlety had never been his strong side.

Helseth sighed. There was just no talking to these men; for nobles of the house of thieves, they were surely honourable.
“As you wish, councillors. I see my good wishes are wasted on you, but I will wish you good evening, and a long and prosperous life anyway.” And with that Helseth walked away. When he was away, his sad look turned into a smile. After tonight, Dram Bero at least would no longer be a problem. While the two councillors had been looking at Helseth’s face, his hand had signalled to Garding, the Nord guardian of Dram Bero, that tonight it should happen.

Bero really was a fool, taking a Nord for a guardian; everyone knew they would sell themselves to the highest bidder, not to mention run around half naked to please one or another witch. Nah, Nords were fools. Helseth saw his own guard Drusus approach, and gave him his orders:

“Drusus. Go back to Vivec, and wait for Curio there. Give him one more chance to do the right thing. If he refuses, you know what to do.” Drusus bowed and left. Helseth smiled. Everything was going according to plan. After tonight, house Hlaalu would be his, as it should be.

When he got back to Mournhold, Gavas Drin, the local head of the temple, was waiting for him.

“My king, I’ve done as you asked, I’ve upped the medicine dosage for her highness the queen mother.”

“Good,” Helseth smiled, “and can you make sure she won’t be able to fight the medicine like last time?”

Gavas shook his head, “Her highness is very resilient; the medicine is effective right now, but I can’t estimate how it develops.”

“Well, I guess it will have to do. A few months should be all it takes. Once I’m really in control of Morrowind, I can send her to prison and won’t have to worry about someone objecting.”

Gavas looked shocked, “But- my king, why do that to your own mother? Surely there are other ways.”

“Gavas, let me tell you something. Not too long ago my dear mother found out I was behind the death of the old king. I begged and pleaded with her not to tell, but in the end, if I hadn’t given her your medicine in the first place, she would have gone off and told lord Nerevar. Do you realise that Gavas? My own mother would have betrayed me. No. After the coming war is won, she will have to go.”

Helseth looked into Gavas’s eyes, “Don’t worry, Gavas, you will get your just reward. After everything is set and done, you will become head of the entire Tribunal Temple.”

Any objections Gavas may have had vanished when Helseth said that, and he turned and left.

Posted by: Olen Mar 7 2008, 07:19 PM

Helseth certainly has a web of control and backstabbing going, he's a dangerous one. But I can some potential holes. This is quite exciting and moving.

I'm liking Varvur's line as well, he's certainly single minded.

Nice stuff

Posted by: The Metal Mallet Mar 8 2008, 08:07 AM

Nice developments. Helseth is certainly despicable. I like it!

Posted by: Alexander Mar 8 2008, 09:05 AM

Helseth stared after him as he left, and wondered how much Gavas would enjoy sharing that cell with Barenziah when the time came. A cruel smile crossed Helseth’s lips.

The next day, as Helseth was reading through a few petitions, a knock on the door preceded his guard Drusus. “My king, I‘ve just come back from Vivec.”

“Ah, Drusus, welcome, and how fares our good friend Crassius Curio?”

“My king, he would not listen to reason, so I made sure he will not bother you again. As promised, I went to Master Yngling and told him to testify and say he saw Master Bero leaving Curio manor late last night. I expect before the end of the day, there will be a massive hunt on for Bero.”

“Good, you’ve done well, Drusus. But now I have another job for you. In a moment a very rude Nord will come in, so please stand in the corner beside the door and wait there for a moment.” Helseth saw Drusus smile; it was so nice to have men in his employ who were not bothered by simple things like guilt or honesty.

Right on time, another knock came at the door and Garding strolled in carrying a dark sack. “King, it is done. Dram Bero will bother you no more.”

“Thank you Garding, and did you take care of the body like I asked you to?”

“Aye, I did. I buried the body, but thought you might wish to look one more time on the face of him, so I kept that.” Helseth saw him put a hand into the sack, and pull out the remains of the man he’d hated so much. The face was barely recognisable, blood and wounds covering it’s every piece. Garding had obviously gone into a frenzy when he did it. Helseth looked at him again,

“So, even though I asked you explicitly to get rid of the body, the entire body, you choose to walk in here in broad daylight, carrying evidence that could destroy me?”

Helseth felt himself flush as Garding argued, “King, I will get rid of the head shortly if it bothers you so much. I just thought to show you it was done, and done well.”

“You idiot,” Helseth screamed, “what if someone had seen you come in carrying that; you could have ruined everything.”

He nodded to the corner where Drusus was waiting. “King, none of that now. I gave you what you wanted, Bero is dead, now I want my reward. Where..”

Garding stopped in mid=sentence, a small line of blood trickling from his mouth down his chin, and he looked down to see the end of a sword protruding from his stomach. He gurgled and it seemed for a moment as if he was going to say something more, but Drusus turned the blade and Garding fell down dead.

“Imbecile,” Helseth said as he kicked the lifeless corpse. “Drusus, get rid of this, and of the head. Make sure no one ever finds them.”

“As my king commands,” came the reply.

Helseth received a message later that day. A message he’d been expecting. It was from the Hlaalu council asking him to come to the Council house in Balmora and officially take the responsibility of the house as Grandmaster. He wasted no time in assembling a guard to go along with him and travelled to Balmora.

The trip was a short one, using magical means to travel to Vivec, and then on with a Silt Strider to Balmora. Helseth loved Balmora; it was a busy city, always booming with life and people coming and going constantly. A path was cleared through the masses by his guard, and he walked to the Hlaalu council house. Once inside, he saw all of the councillors had been awaiting him. Only four remained now, but they didn’t seem to mind. Like Helseth, most of them had always believed in the credo: “The fewer Mer, the more land and slaves for those who remain”. Yngling especially looked ready to burst with pride; an opportunist to the bone, he likely saw the potential of Helseth running the house.

“Thank you, councillors, for this honor you’ve seen fit to bestow upon my person. I promise you all to do my best to lead this house to greatness once again. Where Hlaalu will stand as the paramount house, alone above the others. And I promise you, stick with me, and you’ll become rich beyond your wildest dreams.” The councillors cheered at that, and Helseth looked pleased. “This is how easy things can be,” he whispered to himself.

Posted by: Alexander Mar 8 2008, 04:51 PM

Chapter 8. A tale of two Snakes.

Vivec. Quite possibly the largest city in Morrowind both in terms of population and overall size. Divided into cantons, with a change in two of them since lord Nerevar had come back. After he’d defeated Dagoth Ur, and then killed the remaining two members of the Tribunal, the temple followers wanted to change the palace that had belonged to Vivec, and turn it into a palace for lord Nerevar. He had refused, of course, but he did make a few other changes. Formerly St. Olms canton was now home to representatives of the house Indoril. And St. Delyn home to house Dres. Varvur assumed lord Nerevar had always thought whoever had built Vivec had made an error by only allowing three houses to represent themselves there.

As was customary, Varvur first went in search of the ranking Redoran in Vivec, Favela Dralor. While walking through the Hlaalu compound, where the boat had dropped him off, Varvur noticed many nervous and even hostile looks thrown his way. There was a tension here so clearly one could likely cut it with a Daedric dagger. He sighed in relief when he found himself across the bridge to the Redoran canton, but even there he felt some nervous stares.

Favela revealed the reason for the nervousness. “Haven’t you heard yet, Varvur? Cassius Curio was murdered two nights ago. He was found by servants yesterday morning; someone had strangled him. It was not a pretty sight, I can assure you. But luckily there’s already a large search going on to find the killer, one of his own kin- can you imagine that? But then the Hlaalu have never taken their house relations as seriously as we have.”

“Who killed him then, Favela?”

“Why it was that Dram Bero character. I tell you, no one in his right mind would want to live in a haunted house, and he proved that he was crazy when he strangled old Curio.”

“But did anyone see him do it? I mean are there any witnesses?” Varvur remembered when he’d last seen master Bero at the funeral and he looked simply crushed. And even before that, he’d always been on good terms with most of the Redoran and even Indoril nobles. To think he could have done such a ghastly deed.

“Yes, Yngling saw him. He witnessed Bero coming out of Curio’s manor, and saw him holding a bloody cord. He confronted him about it and was nearly killed himself. Bero fled the city and Yngling got together with the other remaining councillors; Velanda Omani, Nevena Ules and Raynasa Rethan, and threw Bero out of house Hlaalu. I hope they find that monster and string him up.”

Varvur thanked Favela for bringing him up to speed. Even though he had some doubts about Dram Bero being the killer, he was wise enough to keep those to himself, and went on his way, the reason he’d come to Vivec. Across the bridge from the Redoran Compound lay the Arena, a canton on its own, it housed much of the scum of Vivec. At the very top one could find the actual Arena, with seating to house all of Vivec if need be. Varvur recalled the crowd when lord Nerevar had battled the former Grandmaster of the Redoran, Bolvyn Venim. There hadn’t been an empty seat in the area. Everyone who was anyone wanted to see this man who claimed to be an incarnate in action, not least of all the Redoran nobles. I think there were but a few people who actually felt sorry when Venim was cleanly beheaded by lord Nerevar, and most of those were removed from the house in the next few weeks due to evidence of corruption. All were surprised when rather then demanding the title of Grandmaster for himself, lord Nerevar instead allowed the Redoran to choose amongst their own for the new Grandmaster. Of course Varvur’s father had been granted that honour. Varvur later learned that to be typical of lord Nerevar’s character, an excellent swordsman, perhaps the best in the land even, with a huge sense of honor and righteousness, he was the ultimate fighter. At the same time he’d never to Varvur’s knowledge, used any magical or stealth abilities. But with a sword arm as fast as his, he didn’t need it.

But today Varvur was not there to visit the arena pit to see a fight; no today he went to where the rats were housed, to the storage area. It was a place everyone knew how to find, but none were willing to go. Entering the area, Varvur noticed he was being followed. A Dunmer whom he had seen first in the Hlaalu canton was trying his best to go unobserved. Quickly, Varvur rounded a corner, drew his blade and stood very quietly. Very softly, he heard ever nearing footsteps and just as the tail reached the end of the stairs, Varvur grabbed him, shoved him to the wall and pressed his blade to his throat.

“Why are you following me?”

“Mercy Serah, I was merely ordered to keep you from doing anything rash.”

“Like killing you?” Varvur saw he held a young Dunmer, he couldn’t have been more then 50 years old, most definitely not a weathered assassin.

“Serah, Grandmaster Eno bid me to welcome you, and promise you safe passage for one day in our headquarters. Look Serah, in my right pocket is his seal.” Not trusting what appeared to be the thrall a bit, he bid him to slowly take it out himself. It proved to be truly the seal of the Grandmaster of the Morag Tong.

Such a thing had not occurred so long as Varvur could remember, a non-member allowed freely into the headquarters of the Morag Tong and leaving with their life.

“Please Serah, the grandmaster bid me to blindfold you so you would not know the inside.” Varvur sheathed his blade, and allowed himself to be blindfolded. He was led by the thrall into a door, and down a short ladder. He assumed he was directly below the storage area now and he didn’t think this was the only entrance, and likely the last time this entrance would be used. He walked for a short time through what he felt was a narrow corridor; in the distance he heard some vague chanting so he knew there had to be a shrine present, and a bit further he heard the distinct clink of blades. They came to a door, and he heard the thrall knock softly on it. The door opened and he was ushered inside. Not until the door was again closed and locked though, was the blindfold removed. And there Varvur found himself eye to eye with Eno Hlaalu. Though relatively young at 125, the current Grandmaster of the Morag Tong was already legendary. Rumour had it he’d made a tremendously fast rise to the top of the assassins guild, and there was even a rumour that he’d allowed the former Grandmaster, already getting on with age, die peacefully in a remote location rather than killing him as was the custom. Such rumours had of course never been proven.

“Hello Varvur; I knew you’d come here sooner or later. I hope my thrall has not inconvenienced you in any way?”

“No, thank you, master Hlaalu,” Varvur had always been taught it’s better to show politeness to a snake when you entered its den than risk its wrath, “But your thrall could do with some more lessons in how to better sneak.”

“Yes, I’ve been telling him that myself but young people today have a hard time listening.” Varvur listened as he looked over the room. It was very plain, with very few things in sight. Almost everything in it seemed to have a function except perhaps one thing. In a corner Varvur saw a magnificent enchanted cuirass. It was obviously crafted from heavy material by the looks of it and very out of place in the room of a warrior who spent his entire time training for speed.

“Yes, a magnificent cuirass, wouldn’t you agree Varvur? It’s actually an artefact, the Lords Mail. It was given to me as payment for a….. recent service. Of course that is all I can say about that.”

Posted by: Agent Griff Mar 8 2008, 09:03 PM

Hm, the plot thickens more and more. What could the Morag Tong have had to do with Nerevar's death? A couple of things that kept me from enjoying your latest update to the fullest are two awkwardly phrased sentences in the paragraph which describes the Nerevarine's victory against Bolvyn Venim. They were rather illogical but overall it was a good update with enough mystery to it.

Also, near the end, you confused "than" with "then". Understandable though.

Posted by: Alexander Mar 8 2008, 09:15 PM

Hm, could you point out those two sentences? Then I can still improve them perhaps

Posted by: Agent Griff Mar 9 2008, 09:52 AM

"Varvur later learned that to be typical of lord Nerevar’s character, an excellent swordsman, perhaps the best in the land even, a huge sense of honor and righteousness, he was the ultimate fighter."

This sentence doesn't make too much sense if you ask me. I think you ate up a verb somewhere, perhaps before the "huge sense of honour and righteousness" part. Now that I look at it however, it is only one sentence.

I also see that you've corrected the part where you confused "than" with "then".

Posted by: Alexander Mar 9 2008, 10:23 AM

Varvur nodded. “So, you’ve come here looking for the murderer of lord Nerevar have you? You’ve come to the wrong place. No Morag Tong member killed lord Nerevar. Not many people know of this, but he and I made an arrangement. He would allow us to remain, doing what we do, for the guarantee that each time there was a council meeting, every member of the Morag Tong was accounted for and inside either this headquarters, or one of the chapter houses in the great cities. After the murder I immediately summoned the local heads, and all the members that night were accounted for. So you see, we could not have done it.”

“Why would lord Nerevar make such an arrangement with you master Hlaalu?”

“I guess he did not want to have to worry about anyone falling over dead during a council meeting. Though I guess in the end, it was not enough.”
Varvur believed him; one could say a lot about the Morag Tong, but they were definitely not liars. Their honour code prohibited it.

“But then if the Morag Tong was not responsible, do you have an idea who was?”

Eno looked Varvur over first before he said, “No. I cannot give you the name of the murderer, but I can give you the name of one who might know. Belwen, a Bosmer and clothier in Mournhold has long been believed to be either a member, or an informer of our Sithis-worshipping cousins. He might not be the head of the snake, but at least he might be able to tell you where to find it.”

Varvur saw Eno looking at him slyly, head of the snake, either a coincidence, or Eno had known what Balen Sarethi had said to him. Varvur assumed the latter and it made him shudder with unease.

“Now before you go Varvur, a word of advice: be careful what you do once you’re in Mournhold. Some of my thralls call me the master of birds, after a hobby of mine. I enjoy listening to the songs of birds, and the past week those songs have not been good. They sing of death, of people being murdered, of the undead moving in vast numbers across the land to Mephala knows where, Great Houses being rearranged, old alliances broken and new ones popping up everywhere. Some might say we have an exciting time ahead of us, but to people who make their living off of covert deaths, I think the coming time will be dangerous, and trying. Now leave Varvur, and don’t come back. If you are wise, stay out of our path, for when next you meet the Morag Tong, there might be more then a thrall waiting.”

As if on cue, the young thrall entered the room again and bound the blindfold over Varvur’s eyes. He was carefully lead back through the corridor, and out of the headquarters. When they were back in the storage area, the thrall asked to have the Grandmaster’s seal back, promised to deliver it again onto the hands of Grandmaster Eno, and disappeared into the shadows. Upon consideration, Varvur thought the thrall might not have been as inexperienced as he’d wanted him to think. With that thought and everything Eno had told him, he set out to find Asciene Rane to inquire about transportation to Mournhold.

Of course Varvur knew of whom Eno had been speaking. The Dark Brotherhood, once a part of the Morag Tong, who ages past had broken off from the Morag Tong and started their own assassins guild. It quickly became little more then a death guild though, abandoning the worship of Mephala, led by a legendary creature called the Night Mother, they now sought the favour of the dark one, Sithis. The Dark Brotherhood in recent years had crossed the path of lord Nerevar three times, first sending a single assassin, then sending no fewer then three assassins when lord Nerevar disposed of the first. He did the unthinkable though and actually faced and defeated three Dark Brotherhood assassins. After that second attempt he felt the world, or at least Morrowind, would be a better place without them. As the story goes, he travelled by himself to Mournhold, found the Dark Brotherhood beneath the Great Bazaar and killed them to a man, even going so far as to kill one of the famed speakers of the Dark Hand. That was a feat few people could honestly claim.

In recent years no Dark Brotherhood member had shown itself in Morrowind, and their lair beneath the Great Bazaar was long empty, but all knew that was no assurance that the Brotherhood really was gone. If this Belwen was in fact a member, then the Brotherhood had once again found some nerve. After having arrived in Mournhold, Varvur wasted no time in finding the shop of Belwen. He spent a few hours first observing the store from a distance, and when it was growing late and Belwen was just about to close up for the evening, Varvur entered the shop. A look of recognition crossed the face of Belwen and he immediately went for something underneath his desk. But Varvur proved even faster as he drew his blade and put the very tip of it square through the throat of the Mer.
His instincts proved correct, as below the counter Varvur found both a crossbow aimed at the door, and what appeared to be an explosive device. He assumed Belwen would have tried to use the bolt on him first, and then if that had failed, he would have blown himself up before answering any questions.

Such a Dwemer explosive device was very hard to come by, and very expensive, an indication that Belwen had been more then a simple lowly operative, and more than a mere spy. Varvur locked the door of the shop from the inside, and went on a careful search through the house. During that search he came very close to setting off traps on several occasions. The first was a book he opened to see if there was something hidden inside and the book was connected to a wire. It was all he could do to duck in time for the crossbow bolt to barely miss him. And when he found the hatch leading down to the basement of the shop, two of the stairs were rigged and below there were a number of very sharp, and most likely poisoned spears waiting for anyone not alert enough.

In the end, his search proved successful at least, for on a table in the basement of the shop Varvur found a note sent to Belwen.

Last message received in good order. No new orders. Fafnir will collect your next report as scheduled. If you must reach him, it’s the same location as always, Imperial City, Cyrodiil.
Mother is pleased.
L.L.

How careless, Varvur observed, to mention an operative by name like that. It must be someone very low on the list for them to care so little about his identity. And that last line obviously referred to the Night Mother. If this L.L. knew how she felt about him, he or she must be someone who could take Varvur to her. And he had a feeling this Fafnir would be able to tell him who L.L. was.

Posted by: Agent Griff Mar 9 2008, 10:46 AM

Hm, I can sense a bit of Varys the Spider in Eno Hlaalu's passion of "listening to birds". Much like Varys' famed whispers which served him so well. Still, the plot really thickens now, seeing as the Dark Brotherhood is also involved. I don't know why, but the mention of Lucien Lachance makes me think Varvur's in for a visit to Cyrodiil to inquire about certain things...and maybe spread rumours the Nerevarine's departure to Akavir.

Posted by: minque Mar 9 2008, 02:58 PM

Woah.....you're incredible Alex!...Just got to collect this story if I may! More please?

Posted by: Alexander Mar 9 2008, 05:58 PM

Chapter 9. Plans unfold.

Sadrith Mora. ‘Forest of Mushrooms’ as the translation went. A most apt name, Baladas thought. For every building but two were true Telvanni. Mushrooms, grown and shaped using magic in ancient traditions. The town was shaped in an oval form, with all the buildings surrounding the ancient Tel; Tel Naga. Master Neloth had been killed by lord Nerevar during his quest to become Hortator, and a short time later, the Supreme Magister had asked Baladas to become the new Master of Sadrith Mora. Baladas had known it was only at Divayth’s “suggestion” that this offer had been made, and he had accepted.

The first thing he’d done when coming to Sadrith Mora had been to free the slaves, closing down the slave market and putting up proclamations there. No one in the area of Sadrith Mora was allowed to keep a slave, and any slaves found there, or brought there, were automatically freed. It had made him very popular among some more progressive Telvanni, but traditionalists, mainly people relying on the slave trade for their income, had voiced objections. Two even went so far as to come to Tel Naga and loudly demand Baladas either remove himself from Sadrith Mora, or learn to live with slavery, as it was part of the Telvanni way. He’d known for a while that those two had been ignoring his orders and were still trading slaves, almost under his very nose. He still smiled when he thought back to that moment, after the Mers had made their demands, and he had smiled and simply asked them if they realised death was also the Telvanni way. He had them beheaded, then he put their bodies inside the cells at the now defunct slave market, and had posted their heads on spikes at the entrance to Sadrith Mora with a simple sign saying <i>Slaves are free; anyone wishing to object should feel free to visit Tel Naga any day. </i>No more objections had risen after that incident.

As he looked out the window now, he saw many men crowding the open space of the town.. Dunmer, Khajiit and Argonians side by side, but also some Bretons, Imperials, Nords and even a few Bosmer, Altmer and Orcs. They were all training. Gathering his forces had proven easy. Getting them ready was an entirely different matter. Many of the former slaves were not inexperienced with small weapons like knives and dirks, but getting them to become good enough to be effective in a real battle would prove an entirely different matter. His men were training the less experienced ones, but Baladas had no idea how long he had until they would be forced to see action. Fortunately, what they lacked in training, they made up for in enthusiasm and spirit. Though how well that would serve them, pitted against an experienced army such as that of house Redoran, or house Indoril, Baladas did not care to think about.

“Magister, it is time.” Baladas woke from his ponderings to see a servant standing at the door; he’d asked to be alerted at 6. He was expected at Tel Fyr in a few moments. “Thank you, Daral.” Smoothing out his robes, he cast the spell, and was once again standing before the entrance to Tel Fyr. It was quiet as usual, not having any retainers for himself, gave Divayth the benefit of rest. Baladas made his way up to the Tower of Tel Fyr, and there, as expected, were the same three people he had seen when he came here last. They were, however, seated a bit differently this time. They’d left him a seat to the right of the robed figure, at his right hand, a position of honor. He sat down, uncomfortable next to this stranger, and waited for Divayth to take the lead.

“Welcome Baladas. Obviously everything you hear tonight cannot go beyond these walls. I believe you’ve met Dhaunayne several times before, yes? Good. That saves some introductions. The person you’re sitting next to, however, must remain nameless for now. Even to you. He will reveal himself in due time. Right, let’s cut right to the chase, shall we? As I said at the great meeting, we plan to erect a new Ghostfence that will separate our lands from the rest of Morrowind. Why? So none can interfere with us ever again, and we will be left to ourselves as we prefer. Now,” Divayth stood up and picked up a steel tablet from a cabinet which he laid in the center of the table. With a small wave of his hand, a map of Morrowind appeared, outlining the five Great Houses and their respective borders. “Now Baladas, as you can see, Telvanni holds quite a bit of land, but very erratic borders. We mean to correct that before we place the Ghostfence. We mean to claim all the lands east of the foyada Bani-Dad, including Dagon Fel to the north and the entire Sheogorad region. From the foyada south a bit, and everything east of Ald’Ruhn. Then along the foyada Mamaea, again everything east of that, which is the Molag Amur region. We will also take Suran, and everything east of it. From Suran, we mean to draw our border south for a bit, and then south east, incorporating lands as far as Dervon’s Watch, and ending just to the north of the island of Gorn.”

As Divayth had been speaking, the border he described had appeared on the map. With the border done, Baladas looked down and saw the region described by Divayth was fully one quarter of Morrowind, perhaps a bit more even. How could the Telvanni ever plan to hold such a large region? With the Ghostfence in place maybe, but until it was up there was no way they were strong enough to both keep that area, and defend it against the combined force of four Great Houses. He assumed his face had betrayed his emotions because Divayth went on.

“Now I realise this looks very ambitious, but I assure you we can manage it. You see, House Telvanni will not stand alone in this. As you can see, Dhaunayne is here as well. Clan Aundae will stand with us, and even those vampires beyond Clan Aundae. Would you care to explain it yourself, Dhaunayne?”

“Delighted, Divayth,” came the creepy voice of Dhaunayne, “Thanks to our mysterious friend here, Clan Aundae will soon be the only Vampire Clan left in Morrowind. He has devised an ingenious spell which can actually turn the allegiance of a Vampire. Once cast on a Berne or Quarra, they will become loyal to me and will remain that way until the end of time. I plan to start tonight at Druscashti. I have gathered all of my children, and will assault Druscashti. We will bewitch all of the vampires there, while I kill Vomina Quarra and drink her blood. I’ve heard Quarra blood is so precious that she even bottles some of it. I mean to try it for myself.” At this last, she licked her lips, “The night after, we will visit Galom Daeus, where we will do the same to Raxle Berne. And on the third night, we will do again the same for all the minor vampire tombs of our competition. The end will leave Clan Aundae with more then enough manpower to aid the Great House Telvanni anywhere they should need it.”

Posted by: BSD-IES Mar 9 2008, 10:51 PM

Woah, this is absolutely racing along, there's barely time to take a breath there's so much happening. Plot twists, deception, confusion... it's all looking very interesting - if there's one thing I can say for certain it's that I don't know what's coming next.

All in all, a very good read so far, and I'm looking forwards to the next installment.

Posted by: milanius Mar 9 2008, 11:20 PM

As much as Helseth seems despicable so far Telvanni warlords, no matter how 'benevolent' their goals seem, aren't doing anything really to appear more humanitarian. Securing their lands? Nice enough. Stealing the land from other 2 houses on the island with the aid of vampires? Machiavellian. Also, what will become of Ashlander tribes who will trapped within the new Ghostfence? "Oh, so sorry, you are now a part of our mini-empire. Should you not like it in here with us, you have two choices: we will forcibly relocate you via Magical Train or..." [fill in the blanks with more heads].

They aren't benevolent people, they never were. Freeing slaves won't make an ***hole be any less of an ***hole. Events might turn out as a bloodbath involving hirelings of ***holes on all sides.

Another amusing fact: Ghostfence can't [and in fact, it didn't ] stop people with levitation spells; same goes for coastal region and individuals who have Water Breathing readied... now, imagine a strike force, well equipped and prepared, with enough solutions ready for any scenario, coming out of the blue sea right behind Sadriht Mora. No big deal, only a regiment of Redoran honor guards, with decent supply of defenses against magical attacks. 4 hours later, if they don't have anything else but "Burn to the ground and retreat" as orders, there won't be much left of that city. Same goes for any coastal stronghold that Telvanni have.

In any case, I doubt that the Redorans or Hlaalu will just sit idly while Telvanni are attempting to take over their land, including the best brothel in the entire Vvardenfell.

Posted by: Alexander Mar 9 2008, 11:22 PM

Hehe, well I don't like it myself if a story I'm reading seems to be going real slow and drawing things out, so I wrote as I enjoy stories I read myself

And thanks, thanks to you and thanks to everyone else for the great comments so far, I really enjoy reading all of them, and I'm loving the fact that people like this.

Thank you

Posted by: Alexander Mar 9 2008, 11:27 PM

Hehe, I absolutely love reading your theories Mil, really enjoy it

(So as a note to everyone else, please don't hesitate to post your theories, or pm them to me, I'd love to hear them, though I can't promise I'll explain things or get into it too much )

As to your post Mil, of course I wouldn't presume to know what Magister Fyr is thinking there, but perhaps they've found ways to counter levitation going above the ghostfence? I mean someone who can create a spell that can turn the allegiance of a Vampire could possibly do more. Pure speculation there though

And as to the redoran troops, perhaps the Telvanni are simply planning to wipe all the other houses out? I mean the Imperials certainly are in no state to interfere in local politics with all the trouble they're in. But again, that's pure speculation on my part

Posted by: Alexander Mar 10 2008, 08:36 AM

Baladas thought about what he had just heard. “A bold move, and it will give you plenty of manpower indeed, men and women who are next to useless during the day.”

“Right you are,” Divayth said, “Which is why we need more men. We will also be joined by the Ashlanders.”

“Ashlanders? Why they have no more love for the Telvanni then they had for the Tribunal.”

“Again, you are correct, Baladas; however, since they have no more love for the temple than they have for us, they will be more then willing if we provide them with a way to become independent for all time. That, and the fact that we will give them the Grazelands, save Tel Vos and Vos of course. And we have one thing no one else has that will assure us of the Ashlanders assistance, and you’re sitting next to him.”

Baladas looked to his left, and asked himself who this figure could be that would be so easily able to ensure an alliance the Ashlanders. Perhaps some mythical figure, a god, or simply a very powerful wizard. Divayth spoke again, “In two days time, not tomorrow night but the day after, Master Aryon will take the forces of Vos, Tel Vos and Tel Mora and head north to occupy Dagon Fel. I do not expect much resistance from them, and I will make sure the spies of other houses and the empire are imprisoned, or should they resist, they will die. One Wizard lord will be stationed there with a garrison and that will be the end of that. I want you to take the forces of Sadrith Mora, Tel Aruhn and Tel Uvirith to Ghostgate. Don’t attack them; instead present the head of the temple with this.” Divayth took a scroll out of one of the drawers of his cabinet and presented it to Baladas. It carried the wax seal of the temple. “Ask to see the head of the temple, hand him this, and Ghostgate will not raise a finger against you. And finally, I will take the men of Tel Branora and Port Telvannis and go through Molag Mar and then take Suran.”

“And,” Baladas said, “You’re going to give the temple head of Molag Mar another sealed scroll, I assume, and they will simply bow down before you?” He couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of his voice as he asked.

“Yes,” came the reply, “they might not bow, but at least they will not oppose me.” Divayth seemed awfully sure of himself; what did he know that he wasn’t telling? The plan seemed sound; they would likely establish the new borders, at least those on Vvardenfall, in a single night, but that did not explain how he meant to get the mainland parts, nor how he meant to defend it. But Baladas assumed no answer would be forthcoming that day.
“Very well; I will make sure my men are ready the day after tomorrow.”

Divayth looked pleased at that and said, “Good. And then there is one more small thing. Two days after the attack, I want you to go to Vivec, and see Eno Hlaalu, Grandmaster of the Morag Tong. He will give you something; examine it carefully and keep it safe. When next you hear from me, take the item to Ald’Ruhn and show it to Athyn Sarethi. You saved his son, so he owes you a life; at least you will be able to leave the town with your life intact, but I believe you will leave with a great deal more than that.”

It seemed that with each sentence Fyr spoke, more questions arose. Sealed scrolls for the temple heads, something from the Morag Tong to deliver to the Grandmaster of the Redoran by a Magister of House Telvanni. Stranger things might have happened, but for the life of him, Baladas could not remember any.

Everything after that was merely repetition, the hammering out of details and some assuring words. It was well after midnight when both Baladas and Dhaunayne left. She to vanquish or subvert the Quarra, he back to Sadrith Mora. As he lay in his bed that night, staring at the top of the Tel, he found it hard to get to sleep. He realised, with the course House Telvanni was taking, there would only be two possible outcomes of this, complete victory, or eradication of their house.

Posted by: BSD-IES Mar 10 2008, 09:04 AM

"And we have one thing no one else has that will assure us of the Ashlanders assistance, and you’re sitting next to him.”

Oh, really? I'm getting a (possibly far fetched) crazy idea here. Vampiric undead, sorcery... Is everyone who we think is dead, actually dead? If these powerful sorceror's can change the allegiance of a vampire, can they bring the dead back to life? After all, who could guarantee the ashlander tribes assistance, than one who had maybe been granted a, erm, specific title?

Of course, I could be barking up the wrong tree. Or just barking mad

See what this story is doing to me? I'm turning into one of those conspiracy theory nuts

Posted by: Alexander Mar 10 2008, 09:15 AM

Hehe, interesting theory, but if that's the case, then I wonder how you would explain him being in two places at the same time. That is a body being cared for in Ebonheart, and at the same time Baladas being in Tel Fyr and speaking to Divayth, Dhaunayne and that guy already present.

hmm...............................

On the other hand, and mind you this is again just stating some facts, Ashlanders are known to worship their ancestors, and daedric gods. Especially Azura, Boethiah and Mephala.
hm......

And of course there's always the possibility of an impostor isn't there? Either pretending to be lord Nerevar, or Azura, or whomever.

Or all of that could be entirely incorrect. Boy, I hope that Alexander guy finishes the story soon and gives us the answers neh.

Posted by: BSD-IES Mar 10 2008, 09:24 AM

*Back to the drawing board*

I'm not sure that I want that, erm, Alexander guy, to finish the story too soon. As much as I'm looking forward to a resolution, I'm rather enjoying the current journey of confusion

Posted by: Alexander Mar 10 2008, 09:45 AM

Well, I wouldn't worry about that. I just checked and right now we're going on page 45, the story has 109 pages so we're not even half way there yet

Posted by: Agent Griff Mar 10 2008, 09:53 AM

Great, even more Morrowind goodness awaits us then. To say that the plot has thickened would be an understatement. Vampires, mysterious robed guys of immense power, a replica Ghostfence. What's next? Vivec and Almalexia coming back from the dead to claim what was once theirs? Seeing the rate that Fyr is spewing out wild plans, it wouldn't be surprising.

Posted by: Olen Mar 10 2008, 05:46 PM

Big stuff happening here though I'm fascinated to know what scroll could possibly make the temple abandon Molag Mar. And thats a lot of magic they're planning - I can see other forces opposing it, Hlaalu have a lot of money, I can see them buying some magical help here.

I really like how there aren't really any good people, Helseth is pretty unpleasant, the Telvanni are planning on killing a good few and going on a conquest, Varvur seems to have been mislead into doing the Morag Tong's business for them.

Even better is how the different leaders all sit at the cerntre of great webs and all think they're ahead of and/or using all the others. Brilliant.

Posted by: Agent Griff Mar 10 2008, 06:01 PM

Seeing as Hlaalu's got a lot of wealth, I think Helseth will buy off the Mages Guild and Fighters Guild so as to counter the magical influence of the Telvanni. At least, I remember from Morrowind that the Telvanni and the Mages Guild didn't really get on with each other. It would be a pretty obvious move if you ask me.

Posted by: Alexander Mar 10 2008, 06:30 PM

Chapter 10. Stranger in a strange land.

Cyrodiil, largest province of the empire and home to the Emperor, the Imperial palace and the Imperial city. And that was where Varvur found himself now, staring up at the gates that gave entrance to the greatest city known to civilization. It stretched out as far as the eye could see, and was home to thousands of people. Here was one city that was most definitely many times larger then Vivec. Even standing outside the gates one could hear the noise of the crowds.

Varvur’s trip to the Imperial City had been uneventful; he had been able to travel with a large caravan heading out of Kragenmoor. He’d joined it as a guard, something no caravan could ever have too many of. The pace hadn’t been as fast as Varvur would have liked, but at least he could be sure of a good cover story for being there, and no trouble with anyone along the way.

What greeted him just beyond the gate was the Talos Plaza district. Named after the old Emperor Tiber Septim, believed to have become divine himself and risen as the god Talos. It was getting very late, so Varvur decided to find a place to sleep for now and start his search on the morrow. Though with such a large place he had no idea where to start looking. Unlike the inns, his quest did not have convenient signs to point the way.

Varvur took a room at the Tiber Septim hotel. While he slept for a few hours, he found himself wide awake again in the middle of the night. Something had woken him, perhaps a dream. He faintly recalled hearing a loud booming voice warning him to leave Cyrodiil with all haste lest he never be able to leave alive. Feeling hungry, Varvur slowly stood up, dressed himself and went into the dining room to see if there might be an early breakfast for him. Thinking back to the dream he had to admit he was more shaken then he’d care to say. Something about that voice really gave him the creeps.

Varvur was lucky- there was indeed some food to be found in the dining room, and it seemed he wasn’t alone. In front of the fireplace he saw a kindly old man- no, not just a man, a Legionnaire it would seem. At least he was wearing Legion armour, though of an old-fashioned kind. The man himself looked to be very old, balding with grey hair on the back of his head and on the sides. He was staring into the flames, likely thinking of times long past. Varvur turned and sat at the table; there was some fresh bread to be had, as well as an assortment of sweets.

“Did you have trouble sleeping, young master Sarethi?”

Varvur looked up; the man had spoken though he was still sitting with his back to him. Somewhere in his mind he was wondering how the man could know his name, but he found himself answering all the same,

“Yes, I had a bad dream; it’s starting to fade already though.”

“Heh, bad dreams. Yes some people inhabit our dreams to try and dissuade us from doing what we must. Don’t worry about it, though. If people were really that confident about themselves, they wouldn’t have the need to send us dreams, now would they? They’d simply be here themselves.”

Varvur thought about that, and found it made a lot of sense.

“So,” the old man continued, “what brings you to this fair city?”

For a reason Varvur didn’t understand, he did not reply with the cover story he’d been thinking of but answered honestly.

“I’ve come in search of my late master’s killer. His assassin isn’t here but someone that can lead me to him or her is most likely somewhere in this city. Fafnir he’s called. You wouldn’t by chance know where I could find him, old man?”

The old man looked at Varvur, smiling. He had the nicest eyes Varvur had ever seen.

“Well young lad, there’s no chance involved, but yes I would happen to know where to find Fafnir. He does indeed live in this city. And even comes into this hotel from time to time.”

“Then please, old man, tell me where to find him.” Varvur excitedly exclaimed.

“Hm, I think I will now, however, the question you need to ask yourself, Varvur, is: Are you willing to pay the price for the information? I can lead you to Fafnir, and beyond him you will find your answers, but I require a favour in return. Are you willing to repay me that favour?”

“Yes, if you can lead me to lord Nerevar’s killers, I promise I will do whatever you ask of me.”

“Be careful what you say there, young master Sarethi. You never know if someone might not take advantage of it. But it is good of you to promise. Very well, it is not for me you need to do something, but you will meet someone in a few days time. He will ask you for a very large service, not just killing someone, not just a bit of money; no, this is a service of the most serious kind. If you promise me that you will do this service for him, then I will give you the information you want. And don’t worry, what he asks you can wait until after you’ve uncovered the answers to your questions.”

Varvur replied after a moment in thought, “I accept.”

“Good, very good. The man you’re looking for lives in the market district, and often frequents the Merchants Inn there. He has his own house though, where you can find him. Ah, and please, have this.” The old man handed Varvur an ancient-looking coin.

“I reckon it’s not worth much anymore, but it should help you remember your promise, wouldn’t you agree? Young men these days so swiftly forget things.”

“But I promised, old man, and I won’t forget my promise. I will repay this man’s favour, whomever he may be.”

“ Good, that is good of you, Varvur. Now, I think these old bones are ready to give sleeping one more try. Good night, master Sarethi, may you be blessed in your travels.”

Just as the old man was walking out of the door, Varvur called after him, “But sir, you never told me your name.” He wasn’t sure if the old man had heard, but he thought he heard a whisper of “Wulf” as the door closed.

Posted by: BSD-IES Mar 10 2008, 07:22 PM

Aah, Wulf. One of my favourite npc's in Morrowind - back when I was playing the game and didn't have the internet. Getting that coin, getting that new power - and having that lightning bolt of realisation (I'm fairly certain I even exclaimed a loud satisfied OOOH at the time). Priceless moment.

And with the big players all in, Helseth, Fyr all the Great Houses, The Morag Tong... now perhaps the biggest of them all is guiding young Varvur along, just as he did with The Neravarine years before.

Bloody good update Al!!

Posted by: The Metal Mallet Mar 11 2008, 02:08 AM

You are weaving a very nice and engaging plot here. I can't wait to see the dam burst!

Posted by: Alexander Mar 11 2008, 07:15 AM

Varvur must have gone back to bed after that, because he woke in the morning to a nice warm sun shining outside. He remembered his conversation very vividly, but wondered if it hadn’t just been a dream? That is until he pulled his trousers on and felt an old iron coin in his right pocket, just where he’d put it last night. Smiling to himself, he dressed further and headed out into the city. He didn’t have to ask around a lot to be pointed to the Merchants Inn. He went inside and ordered a glass of wine. Not everyone in the inn looked entirely respectable, so he thought it best not to pronounce to the world that he was a noble. And in his rough travel clothing and with all the armour and weapons, he knew he could easily pass for a mercenary. Looking around the room he saw a number of other people, a few Nords, some Bretons, mostly Imperials though, no Khajiit or Argonians and only a few Redguards. It didn’t take him long to find the man he was looking for. In the corner there were a few rowdy Nords, one of which was called Fafnir by his friends.

It was early in the afternoon, yet already it appeared most of the Nords were drunk. Appeared to be, because Varvur saw that with Fafnir, most of the meed seemed to somehow wind up either on his clothes, or in the plant standing next to him. One had to really look carefully to see it, but to Varvur is was clear this Fafnir was not nearly as drunk as he wanted others to believe. While he was laughing with the others, his eyes were constantly looking around, taking in every part of his surroundings.

Varvur made sure to keep his head down, and never to look directly at Fafnir. He knew it would be best to simply wait until Fafnir went away, so that he might follow him home and question him there. It took a few hours, but around supper time Fafnir announced to his friends that he was going home. Varvur waited until he was outside, then payed his tab and followed him. As he got outside, he was just in time to see Fafnir round a corner on his right. Slowly and quietly following him, he cautiously looked around the corner, and saw Fafnir opening his door. Varvur slowly crept forward and then sprinted the last few yards so that just as Fafnir was closing the door again, Varvur threw all his weight at it and flung himself inside. Fafnir stumbled back with a look of surprise on his face. He was clearly not expecting someone. Varvur closed the door, and shut the latch. He wanted to be sure no one would disturb him in his conversation with Fafnir.

Fafnir roared, and from the wall he picked up a wicked looking warhammer. It was all white with a head that had ridges on it. Anyone hit with that thing would likely not survive, so Varvur knew had to make sure to avoid the Nord’s wild swings. . He drew his own blade, but feared it would not be enough to stop the heavy hammer. Therefore, he also grabbed a round wooden shield hanging on the wall next to the door. Armed with sword and shield, he stepped into the living room. Fafnir smartly stayed in that room, his warhammer would be next to useless in a small room, but in here he could swing it as much as he’d like. He started by swinging it over his head, gaining speed with every rotation, round and round still faster and then aimed it at Varvur, who was just barely able to get the shield in front of him. Varvur felt his entire arm ringing from that one blast and realized how lucky it was that he had grabbed the shield; he could only imagine how his arm would have looked had the warhammer connected with it. The two men circled each other, Varvur getting a few blows in, a small scratch on an arm, a slice at a leg, all small wounds which had Fafnir bleeding, but it seemed there was no slowing him down. He kept swinging the warhammer and at times aimed it at Varvur. After a few blows, the shield was ready to be tossed aside. It would likely not survive another blow. Varvur had to think fast. Just then he saw that Fafnir was extending his hand again for what might have been a killing blow, but Varvur used all of his speed, moving not away from Fafnir but nearer to him, and turning just a bit, he brought his sword arm down with lightning speed.

Fafnir cried out in pain and in shock, and Varvur took the moment to aim yet another blow at him, though this time he hit him with he hilt of the blade, as hard as he could on the back of his head. Fafnir slumped down, his right hand still clutching the stump of his left wrist, while next to him lay his mighty warhammer with his left hand still holding it. Fafnir was bleeding heavily, and Varvur knew he’d best treat that if he wanted to be able to ask Fafnir some questions. He lit the fireplace as fast as he could, using his own inner magic to bring the fire faster then it might have otherwise. Once a bed of coals was glowing in the grate, Varvur took a blade hanging from one of the walls and put it into the fire. When it glowed red with heat, he picked up Fafnir’s left wrist , and held the red hot blade against it, using the heat to close the wound.

After Varvur was sure the wound was closed, he bound Fafnir’s arms behind him and his legs together, then went to look through his home. He found very little of use, and no information, though there were some black Mallams in a top room, and he also discovered a hidden hatch on the ground floor, leading to a small basement. From the looks of it, the basement had been often used as torture chamber. There was a bolted down steel chair in the center of the room, a fireplace, and all sorts of needles, pliers, pins, knives and things Varvur did not even have a name for. It also seemed the room was well isolated and that little to no noise would escape once the hatch was carefully sealed. Varvur knew it would not be easy to get information from Fafnir, but was determined to do whatever it took. He carried Fafnir down into the basement, seated him on the chair and first untied his legs. He retied them with the steel bands attached to the chair, which went around his lower legs and ensured that he would not be able to free himself once the pin was inserted into the lock. Then came his hands; one could be locked in a steel band around the wrist, but Varvur had to use some supple leather to bind Fafnir’s left arm to the chair. And last there was a leather band that went around his neck to keep his head upright.

Varvur started a fire in the fireplace there, and then went to look at some potions standing on a plank above some pliers. They had clear descriptions on them for what they did. Some were used to keep people conscious no matter how much pain they were feeling, others were to inflict pain, to wake someone up or to put someone to sleep. He chose a small bottle that woke someone up, and mixed it with a potion that would keep Fafnir conscious, and forced it into him. Fafnir woke almost at once, shouted curses and did his best to get out of the chair, but of course it did not work. He threatened to kill Varvur once he got out, and all of his family, and much more. Varvur just let him shout a while to tire himself out. Then he hit him across the face.
“Tell me what L.L. stands for and you’ll save yourself a lot of trouble, Fafnir.”

“I will never betray the Brotherhood; you’ll need to kill me first before I betray my brothers.”

“Tell me Fafnir, how many people have you taken here to torture? How many unsuspecting people came to an end here? I imagine you have lost count yourself. But even knowing that, I’ll give you more choice then you likely ever gave them. Speak now, tell me who L.L. is, and where I can find him, and I’ll end your life swiftly. Don’t tell me, and I’ll be forced to make you speak.”

Fafnir said nothing at that, he only glared at Varvur and then spit in his face.

“Very well,” Varvur said with a determined look. He started by taking a few needles he’d put into the fire, and slowly inserted one underneath each nail of Fafnir’s remaining fingers. Unfortunately he got no answers then, not even when he cut off 5 toes one after another, not when he made an incision in his stomach, and used a hot knife to slowly cut away some inner muscles one small piece at a time. It wasn’t until he started on Fafnir’s groin that he finally got the answers he was looking for. By then Fafnir was only still awake due to the potion. If not for that, then he would have been long unconscious from pain. Varvur did keep his word though; after Fafnir had given him the answers he needed, he used a sharp blade to cut his throat. When he did it he could almost see gratitude in Fafnir’s eyes. And with it, after some gurgles, the screaming stopped.

Varvur felt very dirty. It wasn’t the first time he’d had to use such methods to get someone to speak; sometimes there was simply no other way to get information, but it was something he had never gotten used to. He slowly, as if in trance, stumbled up the stairs into the kitchen, and threw up in a bucket. He cried himself to sleep that night, sleeping in Fafnir’s bed. He knew he needed sleep before going on. After he woke he dressed, and went up to the top chamber. Fafnir had been clear, the man L.L. was called Lucien- he did not know the last name. To contact him, Fafnir would release one of the black ravens in his loft, with a small note attached to the leg that read only a single letter. F. Three days later, he would have to be sure to be sleeping in a room in Pell’s gate, a tavern a ways south of the Imperial City, just beyond the old bridge, and there Lucien would wake him.

After he let the raven out, he wanted to get out of this house as soon as he could. He took all of his own things, making sure to leave Fafnir’s items there, and got out of the house. As he stepped outside, a small patrol of guards was walking past, they looked at him, and as one drew their blades and pointed them at him.

“Halt citizen,” they loudly proclaimed, ”drop your weapons and then don’t move.”

Not understanding what was happening, Varvur still complied. Two of the guards went inside Fafnir’s house, while the other three stood guard over Varvur. As Varvur was wondering what was wrong, he looked down, and saw what the guards had also noticed, that his boots were still covered in blood. And naturally the two guards who had entered the house came back out, and told the others that they had found a body inside, terribly mutilated.

As Varvur was taken to jail, all he could think about was Pell’s gate, and meeting Lucien there. If he didn’t make it, all would be for naught.

Posted by: Agent Griff Mar 11 2008, 11:57 AM

So Varvur isn't afraid to get his hands dirty when the situation calls for it eh? I liked this update very much. But still, with the Martin references.

The raven was a dead give-away. Detailing the methods Varvur used to torture Fafnir was...well gruesome but I believe that was the intended purpose of that paragraph. It also gave a feeling of despair and uselessness however, since Fafnir seemed not to be affected by any of it. Great work. I like the chapters featuring Varvur, since they're somewhat more personal than the ones with Baladas or Helseth.

Posted by: Alexander Mar 11 2008, 12:12 PM

Well, I guess Varvur is my version of a hero character, a local boy, not privy to all the plotting and wars and backstabbing and whatnot going on, who finds himself in situations he wasn't prepared for. I mean he's no ancient powerful wizard, he's not a king with several great houses and thousands of people behind him, he's just one boy, dishonored for letting his charge be killed and struggling to find the answers to this puzzle that is the poisoning.

You know, I really enjoyed writing about all the characters I wrote, from their standpoints. Varvur as I described above, being in the black, not knowing anything and yet being taken advantage of by people, or at least people trying to use him.

Baladas, a powerful Wizard, of course I think most people know how much I myself enjoy playing such a character, but at the same time he doesn't know any more then the rest of us and right now anyway, finds himself in the same situation as Varvur, where there are tons of people plotting and he can only stand by and look at it, and be used.

And Helseth, you know I never play a truly evil character in any of my games, it simply doesn't appeal to me. But for some reason I loved writing about Helseth. In a way I can make him do all the things I'd never do myself, all the things no one would ever do because people are too decent to do them, but when you have a character with no scruples, it's liberating really.

Personally though when I look at the characters and have to choose my favorite characters, two stand out. One is someone you've all met already, the unknown person underneath the black hooded robe. And two is someone you'll meet a couple chapters from here. I don't want to spoil anything, but those two are my own personal favorites.

Posted by: Alexander Mar 11 2008, 05:04 PM

Chapter 11. Assault.

The past days had been booming with rumors. The ranking Hlaalu noble, Crassius Curio, had been murdered in his own home. The perpetrator, at least according to official sources, had fled the scene of the crime, observed by another nobleman of that same house. Baladas thought it unlikely Dram Bero would have ever harmed Crassius Curio, so someone must want to make Dram look bad, but why? Perhaps the answer would come to him. Helseth had been named the new head of the Hlaalu.

He had been busy as well. He’d taken his forces, passed by Tel Aruhn to gather those men and then gone on down to Tel Uvirith where they would be leaving very soon. Reynel Uvirith could only be called odd, even for a Telvanni. She had been born with a different last name, that of one of the previous masters of House Telvanni. That master had been killed when she was quite young, barely out of her teens. She responded to the killing in typical Telvanni fashion, by killing the killers. Everyone had expected her to assume the newly vacated position, but instead she told them they could keep it. She was last seen boarding a ship that sailed for Akavir. What she did there was known to no one, but when she returned many years later, she had changed. Not on the outside; she still looked very much the same as when she left, only older, but rumors were floating around that she’d studied magic with famed Akaviri Wizards. Magic was done differently in Akavir and they also used very different spells. Rumors told of impossible feats of magic perpetrated on the Akaviri continent, feats never before seen on Tamriel and feats no Tamrielic wizard could ever hope to copy.

She returned to Sadrith Mora one day, officially joined house Telvanni, and rose through the ranks like a meteor. Until she reached the rank of Wizard, that is. Then she declared herself content. She moved out here, into the barren Molag Amur region, had her Tel constructed at the site of a long dead Telvanni figure and took his last name. From then on she almost always wore a hooded black robe, and Baladas was not alone in feeling uncomfortable when he was around her. But the most astonishing thing had come later. She planted a small seed near the edge of Uvirith’s Grave, and while every one of her servants assumed the seed would never grow, it did. It grew into a magnificent tree. And around the tree what had always been barren land grew to be a meadow. The larger the tree grew, the larger the meadow grew, and right now it stretched for about two miles in every direction from Tel Uvirith. It formed an oasis among the Barren rocks.

When asked about it, Reynel would always say she got the seed as a gift from a great Akaviri Warlord. It came from a gigantic tree located in the center of the Akavir continent, that was believed to be the physical form of the god Epyon. While not much was known about him, those who were familiar with him knew he always brought joy to a room, and perhaps that would explain the meadow where once no life could grow. It was also said by Reynel that he made for an excellent chess opponent, but Baladas frowned at that. “A tree playing chess? Now I’ve heard everything.”

In front of the Tel, the troops were massing. Baladas knew, however, that they were far too few if it came to a fight over Ghostgate. With only two ways inside, and long, narrow, Velothi-style corridors beyond, he knew he needed an army far larger then this if he had to take it by force. He was hoping the sealed scroll would do what Divayth had promised it would. Destroying Ghostgate was simply not an option; the strategic value of a fort at that place was simply too great to destroy.

The journey to Ghostgate proved uneventful; there wasn’t much but stone and rock between Tel Uvirith and Ghostgate, and the host crossed the mountain range using levitation spells, or potions and scrolls for those who were unable to cast spells themselves. At the other side of the range the host regrouped and marched to Ghostgate in formation.

When they came into view, Baladas bid halt to his army and took only two of his retainers with him as he walked on. He left Reynel Uvirith behind in charge of the army, and in the sleeve of his robe, he felt the sealed scroll. He entered the Tower of Dawn, and crossed it to the Ghostgate temple. Inside he found Rilvase Avani, the ranking priest in Ghostgate.

She looked at him, and went to shout for the Armigers when she saw him reach into his sleeve. But when she saw it was only a scroll she seemed to change her mind. She reached for the scroll and Baladas saw her carefully examining the seal. Probably checking to see if it was genuine. She broke the seal and unrolled the scroll. It did not take long to read. She then looked up, straight at Baladas, then at the scroll again and lowered it.

“So, war is coming is it?” she asked him.

“Yes, it would appear so.”

She gestured for an aide to approach and told him, “Go to both towers; tell all of our Armigers that we’re about to receive many guests. Make sure they understand their duty and stay their weapons whenever our guests are around. They are to take no action. Understood?” When the aide had confirmed the orders, she gestured for him to leave and see to it.

Then she turned back to Baladas and asked, “Do you know what you hold here, Telvanni?”

“No, actually I did not read the scroll; what does it say?”

“It has but a single line: ‘Remember your oath, the old and the new’.”

Baladas had no idea what she was getting at, and it must have shown for she continued,

“When lord Nerevar vanquished Dagoth Ur and was awarded dominion of Morrowind, he held a meeting with all the high members of the Temple. In it he told us he wanted to make sure the Temple would never again get involved with a conflict internally in Morrowind. During the time of his return, we nearly cost lord Nerevar his life twice; once by keeping information from him, and the second time by proclaiming him false incarnate and declaring his life forfeit. He made us swear oaths that we would never again be involved in any conflict within Morrowind. And he made us swear that everyone not present at the meeting would swear the same oath, and last he made us add that new oath to the oath new priests take. You see, even if we wanted to, we could not oppose you, nor anyone else. From now on, we are always neutral.”

The enormity of that statement hit Baladas. If the Temple remained neutral, then three cities would remain neutral: Ghostgate, Molag Mar and Vivec. All three were governed by the Temple through their Buoyant Armigers. Divayth had been right all along; both Ghostgate and Molag Mar would not oppose them. While that did not help them should they face attack by other Great Houses, it would at least keep the Temple out of the way. This was certainly a good thing.

Posted by: Olen Mar 11 2008, 08:56 PM

The plot thickens. I like the darker side you showed to Varvur, and that he commited the crime and was caught. Great stuff, I wander how he'll escape.

Posted by: Agent Griff Mar 11 2008, 09:15 PM

So old Fyr's ploys finally come into play. Brilliant turn of events there, allowing the Temple null involvement in the events to come. I really wasn't expecting but I understand the need for such an oath. Great twist you have there. Keep up the great work!

Posted by: Alexander Mar 12 2008, 08:53 AM

The next few days were spent settling in at Ghostgate. Some of the men went back to Tel Uvirith with orders to come only when needed, but nearly half of the men stayed at Ghostgate. It was a tight fit, but after they had “persuaded” the Redorans present there to vacate, they were all able to just fit in. It was also the day Baladas was going to Vivec to see Eno Hlaalu.

There were very few secrets left in Vivec not known to the Telvanni; they’d known about the Headquarters of the Morag Tong there for many years. He had no intention of making a scene. He knew that yesterday, Divayth Fyr had visited king Helseth in Mournhold to announce the Telvanni claims to Suran and Dagon Fel, and the different regions on Vvardenfall they had conquered, and Baladas knew that after that, things would really come to a head. He didn’t know how much the other houses knew already, or had found out by now, so he was glad the Telvanni compound was right next to the arena.

He decided to stop by Mavon Drenim on his way to the Arena. Mavon Drenim was the ranking noble of house Telvanni inside Vivec and would likely face quite a challenge; staying put in a place surrounded by enemies was not a task Baladas envied him for. Even though he was only a spellwright, few could match Mavon’s skill in conjuration. He’d studied under Felen Maryon, who was undoubtedly Telvanni’s leading conjuration expert, and few mages in their right mind would ever consider facing either Felen Maryon or one of his pupils.

A tall Mer, especially for Dunmer standards, Mavon’s upright hair made him appear taller still. He always carried a Wizards staff with a wicked Fire enchantment on it, and he looked very impressive indeed.

“Hail Magister Demnevanni. What brings you to our fair city this day?”

“Just wanted to make sure you haven’t been experiencing any problems, Mavon. No one has tried anything here yet have they?”

“Actually Magister, they did. Quite a few Hlaalu tried to come after us yesterday, but the new guards of Vivec, the Buoyant Armigers, stopped them. I guess the temple is determined to remain neutral as they vowed.”

“Well, that’s a positive thing in any case. Is there anything more you need, Mavon? Anything we need to supply you with?”

“No thank you Magister; we’ve been managing on our own for many years, and we’ve never had to rely on other parts of Vivec and don’t now either. We’ll be just fine, don’t worry about us Magister.” Having reassured himself, Baladas took his leave and went to the Arena Storage area, which had for many years held the entrance to the headquarters of the Morag Tong. There was already a thrall waiting for him, and he was admitted straight away. He’d met Eno once before, that time while he was visiting lord Nerevar and Eno had come by, spoken to lord Nerevar for a brief time and then left again. He’d never been this close before though, and couldn’t help but be impressed. For a non-magic wielder, Baladas knew Eno was one of the most dangerous men in Morrowind.

“Welcome Magister, how fare things? And please, when next you see them, pay my respects to Magister Fyr and your new Archmagister, would you?” With that one line Eno had left Baladas nearly stunned; somehow he knew things only members of the House were supposed to know. He knew both that there was a new head of House Telvanni and the fact that he was now a Magister rather then a Master. Impressive, to say the least proving that the rumors of Eno being the master of many whisperers must be correct after all then.

“Thank you Grandmaster. I fare well, and last time I saw them, the men you name as well.”
“Good to hear that Baladas. Now, Divayth tells me you’re here to pick up the special item, am I right?” Baladas simply nodded. It would not do for Eno to find out Divayth had not even bothered to tell him what he was supposed to pick up, let alone what to use it for. Being left in the dark was not something Baladas enjoyed.

“Right. Well, here it is.” Eno went to a drawer, and got a steel plaque out of it. It looked almost like a normal serving tray, but carved into the edge were many mystical signs. Though Baladas did not recognize any of them, he could clearly feel magic emanating from it.

“Now, Divayth also told me you are as yet unfamiliar with this, so please allow me to demonstrate.”

“This is an invention of Divayth’s, I’m told, and it holds a special type of magic that allows you to view things many miles away, sort of like a crystal ball, but far more accurately and it shows things in a much more detailed way. Another function of the artifact is the ability to remember things it has displayed. In this case, it has remembered some very interesting events from a few days ago, the day of the funeral, to be precise.”

Eno touched a few of the signs carved in the plate in a specific order, and in the center where there had first been simply polished steel, Baladas now saw a very clear picture of the inside of a manor. He recognized it straight away and became very interested. As the events unfolded in the picture, Baladas found himself smiling more and more, and as the picture ended, he laughed. Perhaps it really hadn’t been folly to think Telvanni could win this conflict. With what was on this plaque, at least one opponent could easily be neutralized. Eno smiled, for of course he’d known all along what was remembered on the plaque and knew how much it meant to House Telvanni. Baladas had no doubt that getting this plaque from Eno had cost Divayth a fortune, but if it did what Baladas assumed it would do, it would prove worth it many times over. Then a thought came to him.

“What I just saw, it is real? Or is it meant to fool someone?”

“I promise you,” came the reply, “everything seen and heard is genuine and truth.”

Reassured and with even more confidence, Baladas took the plaque, thanked Eno for his help and travelled back to Sadrith Mora.

Posted by: Alexander Mar 12 2008, 04:20 PM

Chapter 12. Unlikely choice.

Varvur was banging his cup against the bars of his cell and shouting for a guard to come. He’d been in the cell for a day and a night already and knew time was creeping up on him. He didn’t expect a guard to come, though; he’d been banging his cup against the bars for over an hour now, and no one had so much as checked on them. Yes, them. There was one other prisoner on this cellblock. It was obviously used for only the worst criminals. The man across from him appeared to be scum of the worst kind, dirty, with unkempt hair. And ironically enough, he was a fellow Dunmer, but from the threats and curses he threw at Varvur, one couldn’t tell. Looking around the cell, Varvur saw what he’d seen several times before already, that there was nothing that would help him escape. Naught but a few bones and a skull, a small table and a bucket to use as a privy. And his bed of course with the thin blanket. Nothing. Varvur sat down and put his head in his hands. It seemed hopeless.

A noise woke him from his ponderings, a loud noise. Someone was coming down the stairs, and from what he could hear there were several people.

“Come quickly, your highness, this way.”

“Hey,” a guard spoke to Varvur, “What are you doing here? There wasn’t supposed to be anyone here.”

“I’m sorry captain, I’d be happy to leave if I could.”

Then the man who had been called your highness came into view. Varvur had seen his picture of course, but still, seeing the man in front of him proved to be quite another experience. It was Uriel Septim, Emperor of Tamriel.

“You!” the emperor exclaimed in a voice that told of visiting many different lands, and even worlds, that had gone where few men had gone before.

“I’ve seen you in my dreams. What is your name?”

Varvur replied quietly, all the while keeping his eyes down. There was something strange happening here- he could read it in the tension of the guards posture, the way they held their swords. It would not do to have the guards decide it would be better to butcher him then leave a witness. One of them spoke,

“You prisoner, stand back.”

Varvur stood back as one of the guards opened the door to his cell. He considered rushing them and fighting his way out, but at that moment he noticed the blade hanging from the hip of the emperor. It was the blade of lord Nerevar; even if he could get past the guards, which he doubted, how could he leave the blade here? The guards were entering his cell, there were four of them, and the emperor. One of the guards pulled an innocent-looking chain, and to Varvur’s surprise, part of the wall moved out of the way.

The guards moved swiftly past him, but the last one, a Redguard, stopped for a moment to look at him.

“If you must, you can follow us, and you will be able to leave. But make sure to stay out of our way or I will kill you myself.”

Varvur nodded, indicating that he understood. The Redguard moved to follow the emperor and Varvur went into the tunnel after him.

It appeared to be a very old system of corridors, barely lit, and crumbling. It must have been the oldest part of the city. Luckily some of the guards were carrying torches, else they might not have been able to see anything. In front of them the corridor suddenly went to the right, and Varvur and the others found themselves in a small antechamber. One of the guards called a halt, claiming that he heard something. He slowly moved forward, carefully listening to the surroundings. Varvur heard the blade before he saw it, and cried out a warning but it was too late; the head of the front guard was already rolling away as his body crumpled to the floor. A number of men dressed in red cloaks came at them then. Several engaged the emperor and his guards, but one came at Varvur. The man swung his mace downward and Varvur moved out of the way just a in time. The mace now moved sideways, again straight for Varvur, but he was able to grab the arm of the man before it could connect. A swift tug on the arm had the man overbalanced and spinning to the floor, and it also left Varvur with the mace in his own hands. A swift blow to the head made sure the man would not get a second chance.

Varvur looked around, expecting to see more men, but the emperor’s guards had dealt with the other assailants. The emperor turned to look at him and said,

“Well now, I am glad to have you along. If it had not been for you, we might have been attacked from both sides. As you can see, my guards are already injured and we still have quite a ways to go. But tell me, I saw you looking at this blade; is it familiar to you?”

Varvur quickly explained to whom the blade had belonged and how he came to have it.

“Really, lord Nerevar is dead? These are troubled times indeed. Why I remember it as if it were yesterday when he was in the exact same cell as you just now. I had dreamt about him as well, so I let him go. Pardoned him of the crimes he probably never committed. Well, young Mer, I will tell you what we will do. If you help me get out of these Talos-forsaken tunnels, I will give you back the blade.”

He must have caught Varvur’s questioning look because he added,
“Well, I realise the blade is not mine to give away, but consider this- if we don’t get out of these tunnels, it will do no one any good, now will it?”

Varvur could not disagree with that logic, so he promised to help them. He did catch a mistrusting look from the Redguard, but then he’d made the agreement with the emperor, not the Redguard.

Before exiting the room after the guards, Varvur stopped to pick up the blade of the fallen guard. A katana, not very common in Morrowind, but his father had insisted he train with weapons even from outside the province. He admired the weight and balance for a second, finding that this was truly a magnificent weapon. As he considered everything that had occurred, he realised something he had been thinking of for a while now- the guards must be Blades. No normal guard would be able to afford such a fine blade. Hurrying along, he saw the guards had moved with haste to a door. The last guard to enter was the Redguard, though just before he entered, he turned back to face Varvur.

“This is where we part, Dunmer. We can’t have you trailing along, so you’d better find your own way out.”

And with that he closed the door on Varvur. And locked it. Judging from the thickness he’d seen when the door was open, there was no way Varvur could break through it. Looking over the walls of the room, he noticed a small opening on the right side.

Going down to his hands and knees, he crawled through the opening into the room beyond. It appeared to be part of a cave, the only finished wall on the side where he had come through and the rest naught but sand and roots. Quickly disposing of a few rats that came at him, and a zombie a small ways down, he tried to follow alongside the route the guards and emperor appeared to be taking. There really wasn’t much there, though he did find himself face to face with three goblins at one time. Morrowind wasn’t home to many of the creatures, especially not since an entire army of them, hiding in the sewers of Mournhold, had been destroyed by lord Nerevar, but their crude weapons and tactics proved no match for Varvur’s honed skills.

The sound of weapons clashing reached him, and hurrying on, he was just in time to see another Blade fall to an assassin. He also saw the remaining Blades were hard pressed, each fighting off two or even three assassins, he overlooked the scene from a ledge, and without hesitating, jumped down, taking down two of the Redguard’s assailants as he landed. He quickly got back up, and slashed with his blade, finishing one of the assassins. The other assassin tried to bash him with his mace, but Varvur simply jumped back and used the katana’s longer reach to slash the assassin’s midsection. It’s never a good idea to get involved with a weapon that has a longer range, not unless you’re either very fast, or very heavily armoured. By that time the other Blade had disposed of his attackers as well and came towards Varvur threateningly.

“No, stop it,” the emperor called. “You will not harm him. Can’t you see, he just saved the life of Baurus and you would repay him by taking his life?”

The Blade looked just a bit embarrassed at that and lowered his blade.

Posted by: BSD-IES Mar 12 2008, 04:30 PM

Well, I was just moaning (just a smidgeon) on TES about how cruel you are with all these cliffhangers, and then this. I'm very close to slapping my hand against my head. I can't believe it, I did NOT see that coming. Not only do we still not know what Baladas saw (grr!), or the identity of the hooded man (double grrr!), but then you completely throw me off course with this.

To use a posh word ( ) that was a beautiful segue, absolutely seamless. This story continues to impress, and is getting better and better. Though you're still a git

Posted by: Alexander Mar 13 2008, 09:34 AM

“Tell me,” the emperor continued, “do you believe in the Nine divines?”

What an odd question to ask at a time like this. Varvur considered, but not wanting to insult the emperor, he answered none the less.

“I do not, I worship my ancestors, but my father tells me I was born when the Steed constellation was at its brightest in many centuries.”

At that the emperor nodded, and gestured for the Blades to lead on. The next room proved empty. There was a corridor leading onwards and both Blades insisted on checking it before they went on. As soon as they were halfway through, the emperor once again turned to Varvur and spoke,

“Young Mer, my time grows short. Thankfully it shall not be long now. Please, take this amulet; it is the Amulet of Kings, and only the rightful heir to the throne may wear it and use it to thwart the efforts of the usurper. Please, take it and your lord Nerevar’s blade and find my loyal Blade, Jauffre, at Weynon Priory. He alone knows where to find the last heir of my line.” With that, the emperor handed him a huge amulet and the blade of Nerevar.

As Varvur considered those words, and the enormity of the task, he was not ready when a part of a wall suddenly slid open and an assassin emerged from it. The red-robed killer went straight for the emperor and slashed open his throat. Only when he advanced on Varvur did Varvur drop lord Nerevar’s blade and ready his katana. The assassin only had a knife, and Varvur a long blade, so no glory was earned during that fight.

After the assassin was dead, he heard a wail from behind him, and spun around, raising his blade. But then he lowered it again. Baurus has been the one to voice the wail. He clutched the body of his emperor and looked bereft. Varvur sought to comfort him and explained what the emperor had told him before he died. He also tried to offer the amulet to Baurus, thinking it was rightly the province of the Blades to care for the emperor’s relic.

“Thank the Nine; our work might not have been in vain after all. No, I thank you for trusting me with the amulet, but the emperor gave it to you; it is your destiny to aid the heir, not mine.”

Varvur followed Baurus to the exit, only stopping at the last dead Blade to pick up his armour. Robbing the dead wasn’t really something Varvur liked, but with no armour, his chances of surviving would be small. As they came to the exit, Baurus showed him a way to get outside the city at once, and promised to clear Varvur’s record so no guards would come after him, no matter what crime had been committed. Varvur followed the Blade’s directions, and went through a sewer gate.

Crawling through it, he found himself a little way to the south of the Imperial City. Looking at himself, he found he didn’t look as bad as he might have. With the Blades armour, he might have looked even better then before. He knew he had to hurry. More time had passed then he cared to think on and he knew he had to be sleeping in the tavern at Pell’s Gate by tonight lest he lose his chance to meet this Lucien, the next step on the path to finding Nerevar’s murderers.

He strapped his katana to his back, and tightened the strap around his waist as well, making sure lord Nerevar’s blade would not be lost and slowly got into the water. It was quite cold, and by the time Varvur crawled out on the other side, he was chilled to the bone. He walked in the direction he knew he would find the tavern and luckily, before long he was looking at it. Now came the next dilemma; he had no money. Everything had been taken when he had been thrown into jail, but Varvur decided to be bold. Who needs money when he wears the armour of the Emperor’s own guards?

He proudly walked into the tavern, demanded food, drink and a bed and bid the innkeeper to send the bill to the palace. He wasn’t the first to do so apparently, as the innkeeper looked sullenly at him, but did not say a word against it. He handed Varvur a key to his room and promised to bring along food and drink shortly. Varvur was very glad to once again have a warm bed, and good food. Prison meals simply didn’t cut it compared to this. After he’d had his meal, he went to bed. He took his blade with him, wanting to make sure no one could surprise him during the night.

Even so, he was surprised. Near dawn, he suddenly heard a voice from across the room.

“Come on sleepyhead, haven’t you slept enough? We have quite a bit to do today, so you’d better get moving.”

Varvur sat up, holding his katana in front of him. In the shadows he saw the outline of a hooded, cloaked man, an Imperial by the sound of his voice.

“Are you Lucien?”

“Yes, very good, my name is in fact Lucien Lachance, and your name is Varvur Sarethi. What a pleasure it is to meet such a noble figure so far from home.”

And as Lucien laughed, Varvur somehow got the impression that he was being mocked, but it didn’t matter.

“You mentioned we would be going somewhere? Where are we going? And how do you know who I am?”

“Ah, so many questions for one so young as yourself, but before I answer, a question of my own. Would you not come to work for the Dark Brotherhood instead? You did such a great job getting information out of Fafnir; he must have screamed all night.”

And another loud laugh. Varvur felt sickened; how could this man know so much about him? Nevertheless, he resolved his anguish and answered,

“I would never join you. I did what needed be done, not because I enjoyed it but because I had to.”

“Yes, of course that’s what they all say at first. But no matter, forget I asked. No true Redoran would ever be a good Brother anyway; you’re all far too noble for your own good. Anyway, moving along here; yes, I did in fact mention we would be going on a trip. How familiar are you with the ruling body of the Dark Brotherhood, young noble?”

“I know you’re ruled by 5 people in total, but little else.”

“Very good,” replied Lucien. “Yes 5 people indeed, one listener, and four speakers, together the five fingers of a hand, a black hand that is. I’m a speaker, I speak for the Listener, and the listener has heard the Night Mother had business with you personally. So it is my job to take you to the listener. Now either we can leave today together, or if you refuse, I must ask my operatives to pick you up and escort you there. The choice young Sarethi, is entirely yours.”

With a smile on his face, Lucien sat back and observed Varvur. To Varvur the choice wasn’t a hard one. He had wanted to find the head of the Dark Brotherhood from the start; if people would take him there and shorten his journey, all the better.

“I will come with you,” he told Lucien.

“Wonderful sir, your steed awaits outside, please meet me there in ten minutes.”

And with that, Lucien slowly faded back into the shadows. No door ever opened, no sound was made, but when Varvur got up to look in the corner where Lucien had just sat, there was no longer anyone there. All that was left on the chair was a black hooded robe. It was probably meant for him.

Posted by: Agent Griff Mar 13 2008, 09:51 AM

Now you've gone about and turned this story, which I originally thought would only be about the events happening in Morrowind, into an Oblivion fan fic! Who would have guessed? I really like how it's going however. Varvur's meeting with Lachance was great to read and now you've got me really anxious concerning Varvur's meeting with the Night Mother.

Of course, seeing as you've developed the story thus far, the next update will probably feature Helseth and will leave us with a cliffhanger much like the last update featuring Baladas did. Or you may surprise us by revealing what it was that Baladas saw. Either way, this story is such a pleasure to read that I think I won't even feel the passing of time as you reach the second thread with it. You did say it was 120 Word pages long, did you not?

Posted by: Alexander Mar 13 2008, 09:57 AM

109 actually, but considering I just posted up to page 61, and tonight will be up to page 65 (long chapter) we still have some ways to go yes.

Ah, and good instinct, next up Helseth again, and just as an authors comment, the second part of this next chapter is also one of my favorite sections that I wrote. You'll get to see why tomorrow

Posted by: Agent Griff Mar 13 2008, 10:10 AM

We are all surely waiting on the edge of our seats. As a trivial question though, what role exactly did Treydog have in elaborating this story? Merely spell-checking? Or did he also advise you when it came to plot devices and story elements?

And a little tongue-in-cheek question, will this brilliant story get posted on the main site?

Honestly though, I think it should. And, to make it all democratic and not look like you're abusing your power of choosing what stories get posted on the main site, you could post a poll in which the members of the forum are asked if they would consider this story to be worthy of the main site. I know I would vote twice for it to be posted on the main site, that's just how good it is.

Posted by: Alexander Mar 13 2008, 10:48 AM

His contributions have been invaluable in the field of grammar, spelling, and wording of things. Though the plot, story elements, story outline and all the events sprang from my thoughts




Well, if any of my stories are put up it would be this one, this one rather then the first.

I'll likely talk it over with some of the other staff before deciding to put it up though. Though I guess when it comes to choosing the stories that go up on the site, I guess so far I've always done that by myself. Acting either on my own observations when reading things, or on tips from moderators or other members. So far it's worked well

Posted by: treydog Mar 13 2008, 12:38 PM

Just to reinforce- the absolutely brilliant plotting was entirely Alexander's. I was pleased to be asked to look over the story before it was posted, and did my usual "English teacher" markups (although I probably missed some....)

The transition from MW to Oblivion was handled beautifully and at the same time caught me by surprise- but after I read it, it made perfect sense. Excellent work, Alexander.

Posted by: Alexander Mar 13 2008, 05:19 PM

Chapter 13. A change of plans.

Helseth was particularly pleased with himself. He’d been getting reports for the past several days keeping him up to date on how things were progressing. His new allies the Camonna Tong had supplied him with one of their own, an Argonian no less, who would play the part of the witness to Varvur’s betrayal. Hlaalu, Dres and Indoril leaders were preparing their people for a conflict; rumors had been started already about the Redoran and things were ready to come to a head. Helseth was now just waiting for the right time.

Varvur had to be captured first, and that would set all of the events in motion, but unfortunately Varvur had so far proved impossible to apprehend. Oh, he’d been seen, but not anywhere Helseth could get his hands on him without causing an uproar. No, he knew the timing for this would have to be perfect, but he was not in any rush. He had all the time in the world to prepare. Nothing could go wrong.

Helseth looked up from reading the most recent report with annoyance; someone outside the door to his study was causing a lot of noise. Shouts were passing back and forth now. What could be the matter? Helseth got up and walked to the door. As he was nearing it, it flung inwards and standing inside the door was Councillor Rethan.

“My king, may I have an audience?”

The captain interrupted apologetically, “I’m sorry, my king. I explained you did not want to be disturbed but we could not convince her to turn back.”

Helseth looked at his guard captain and finally shrugged, “It’s fine, show her in. I’m sure Raynasa has something very important to tell me, or she wouldn’t have bothered me.”

It was clear from his voice that if was not something important, Raynasa would regret it.

Raynasa had never been in danger of winning a beauty pageant, but today she looked simply haggard. “Councillor Rethan, perhaps you’d care to explain the reason for barging in here like this?”

“My king, I did not receive a reply to my letter. What are your orders?”

“What are you talking about, Raynasa?”

“I’m talking about Suran, my king; what would you have us do about it?”

Helseth sighed, “Raynasa, I have no idea what you’re talking about, what about Suran? Have the dancers gone on strike again? Has the Skooma run out? No more moon sugar perhaps? What’s wrong Raynasa?”
“But my king, I don’t understand, I sent word yesterday, how could you not know yet? King Helseth, Suran has fallen. The Telvanni are on the move.”

Helseth was speechless for a moment, this was not what Helseth had wanted to hear, and not what he’d expected to hear, either.

“Tell me all about it, Raynasa. Tell me what happened and make sure you leave nothing out.”

“My king, they came to Suran in the dead of night, Divayth Fyr leading a host of Telvanni Wizards and Vampires, they came straight from the road leading to Molag Mar, they hit Suran and were well inside before anyone knew what was happening. Our men did not stand a chance, my king, most were killed or captured, only a few got away to warn us.”

“How can this be? Do you expect me to believe the Telvanni can conquer one of our richest cities without anyone seeing them coming, without anyone so much as hearing them massing? Explain this Raynasa.” Helseth saw Raynasa’s face become white with fear, well as white as any Dunmer can get anyway.

“My king, we’ve been hearing some rumors these last few days, of Vampires fighting amongst one another, but nothing else. We assumed it was simply another Vampire war; we’ve seen those in the past.”

“Well you assumed wrong didn’t you?” Raynasa moved back at the ferocity of Helseth’s voice.

“Yes my king, we did.”

“Go on councillor, what happened next?”

“Well, our informants have told us on the third night after the funeral of lord Nerevar, the Telvanni split into three forces and attacked Dagon Fel, Suran and Ghostgate. In Suran our men fought as best they could, but they were outnumbered and unprepared. In Dagon Fel no one put up much if any resistance, and those believed to be agents of the other great houses were simply made to leave. In Ghostgate it was even easier for them; my informants tell me they simply marched up to the door, showed the leading priest some parchment and were given the keys to the city.”

“You mean to say the Buoyant Armigers did not lift a finger to oppose the Telvanni?” Helseth exclaimed.

“Correct my king; they did nothing.”

A thousand things went through Helseth’s mind, foremost among them wondering how this could have happened, how could it be that he had not seen this coming, why had the gutless Hlaalu in charge of Suran allowed themselves to be surprised, but much more importantly, why had the temple offered not even the slightest resistance, and what role did Supreme Magister Moven have in all this? He was well paid; he had no reason to double cross Helseth.

“You there, guard, send word by magical means to Port Telvannis immediately, tell Supreme Magister Moven I wish to see him here, in person, today. Tell him I don’t care how he does it, how much magic it will take but I want him here today! And after you’ve done that, tell Gavas I wish to see him. I’m getting to the bottom of this today.”

“Go Raynasa, go back to Vivec, to Yngling manor and wait there until I send word.”

“Yes my king” And Raynasa bowed and left. Helseth threw his ink bottle against the door as soon as she’d closed it.

“Incompetent fool, I can rely on no one.”

It did not take Gavas long to arrive at the door to king Helseth’s study. He knocked, and Helseth bid him to enter.

“Gavas, there you are,” Helseth started in his most charming voice, “perhaps you can clear up a little mystery for me. I was just informed by Raynasa Rethan that your fellow priests simply gave Ghostgate over to the Telvanni, without any fight whatsoever.”

Helseth became angrier as he went along, “So tell me how it can be, that a well fortified stronghold like Ghostgate, packed with Buoyant Armigers, just surrenders like that with no resistance? How does that happen Gavas? Tell me!”

Gavas tried his best to keep a dignified look, but Helseth saw he was scared. “My king, we are by vow forbidden from interfering in an internal struggle of the great houses.”

“Nonsense! Such vows did not stop you from naming lord Nerevar an impostor and putting a reward on his death.”

“You are right, my king, and after it was revealed to us that he was the real lord Nerevar, and then came into power, he made all the temple priests swear a new oath; he made us swear we would never again involve ourselves with an internal matter and would only defend Morrowind against external threats.”

“Azura be damned, so you’re saying even if I made you head of the temple today, you still could not oppose the Telvanni?”

“Yes my king, it is so.”

“Damn him, damn him straight to Oblivion. I knew I should have taken out lord Nerevar much sooner.”
Helseth saw the look of fear in Gavas’s eyes when he said that. “Oh don’t worry Gavas, I don’t think you’ll betray me, not with all the filthy black secrets I know about you. Leave me; I must consider what you’ve told me carefully.”

Posted by: Agent Griff Mar 13 2008, 06:11 PM

Great update! For some reason, I love seeing Helseth's plans go awry. It is very pleasurable. I'm loving this clash of houses so far.

Posted by: milanius Mar 13 2008, 06:26 PM

You're doing a solid job at linking Morrowind and Oblivion-related events and timeline than my attempts... solid.

Also, LOL Helseth. For someone who should be 2 steps ahead of his foes and having a myriad of contingency plans at his disposal he isn't looking very sturdy right now. Cracks are beginning to show.

Oh, btw, Telvanni are still a bunch of ******* ******** *****'* thugs in my eyes. For further information on the subject see 1st part of my signature.

Posted by: Alexander Mar 13 2008, 06:30 PM

Hehe, well don't count him out yet, though the Telvanni are advancing, Helseth still has the support of the other four great houses, so in terms of manpower and force, he's still way ahead of the Telvanni and allies

Posted by: milanius Mar 13 2008, 10:57 PM

...but... purely as a speculation... Telvanni have enough aces up their sleeves to keep all other Houses at bay, right? Right!

Posted by: Alexander Mar 13 2008, 11:23 PM

hehe, rooting a bit for the Telvanni after all are we now Mil?


I can't promise tomorrow brings the answer to everything, but I can promise it will be a very fun day in the story, two very fun updates!

Posted by: Alexander Mar 14 2008, 11:44 AM

Hours later Helseth was sitting on his throne. Dinner had been bland today, and he’d had the cook whipped for serving it. He knew it was only because of his unsettled thoughts that he didn’t like his food, but it felt good to see the cook whimper in pain. A smile crossed his face just thinking about the expression of the hapless servant. But now he must focus on other things; a herald had just announced the Telvanni delegate had arrived and would enter at any moment. Helseth heard someone at the entrance; he looked there just as the door opened and in walked…. Divayth Fyr. Helseth was shocked; he had expected Supreme Magister Moven, but here, right before his very eyes, was Divayth Fyr himself, ancient, powerful, dressed in his usual Daedric armor.

All around the room Helseth saw the guards clap their hands to their blades, ready to strike, the tension almost visible.

“Good day, my liege.”

Helseth shuddered; that old commanding voice- he had never liked it. It always made him feel inadequate.

“And how fare you on this beautiful day, my liege? I pray my visit isn’t too much of a surprise.” Helseth saw the smile on Divayth’s face when he said that.

“Why are you here, Master Fyr? I summoned Supreme Magister Moven, not you.”

“Ah, well you see my liege, he couldn’t make it, and we of house Telvanni would not want to insult our rightful liege of course, so we sent me instead.” Just that word “liege” made Helseth feel uncomfortable. It sounded far too much like “leach” for his liking.

“But where is the Supreme Magister, and why isn’t he here?”

“Now that, my liege, is a good question. And very simple really. I fear the good Supreme Magister has ah, how to say this delicately—misplaced himself.” Divayth gave that insolent smile of his when he said it, “I’m sure if you insist I could scrape together enough of him to give you an idea of what happened, but I’m sure you get the picture as it is.”

“You killed the head of your house? Do you know the penalty for that, Master Fyr?”

“Yes, I do actually, my liege. None. Not even the late lord Nerevar was able to influence house Telvanni enough to make us change our ways of granting power to those who take it. So I can kill whomever I like within our house; I can kill the entire house if I want to, and no law in this province can hold it against me.”
Helseth had to admit he was correct. As much as lord Nerevar had been against senseless killing, oddly the subject of this practice within the Telvanni had never been brought up. Helseth didn’t have much time to think about that though,

“Why have you attacked us, Master Fyr? We did nothing to provoke this attack; Suran never opposed the Telvanni.”

A hard booming laugh emanated from Divayth Fyr at that, “I’m sorry for laughing, my liege, but ‘never did anything against us’? Well, I won’t even go into the countless wars that have been fought between your house and mine, the countless assassinations you paid for and the spies you planted within our house, but other than that, it is true you’ve done nothing against the Telvanni.”

“But let’s cut to the chase, shall we, my liege? You’re not the only one with spies, you know. We know about your plans against the Redoran, we’ve known for a long time now, and personally, we could not care less what happens to Athyn Sarethi and his gang, but we will not allow you to attack us with the combined forces of three great houses. Instead, we claim all lands we now hold, everything on Vvardenfall east of the Suran – Ghostgate – Foyada Bani-Dad line. We claim it as compensation for the betrayal you were going to bestow upon us. We also urge you to abandon your ideas of a unified Morrowind under your reign. I promise you, Helseth, it will not come to pass.”

Helseth was livid, “How dare you, Telvanni, come into my throne room and tell me you’re taking part of my land? Moven was a fool, and I’m glad to be rid of him, but you forget I still have three other houses supporting me, and I can easily offer proof to the Redoran that in fact you were responsible for the murder of lord Nerevar and two Hlaalu councillors. Ha, I’ve always heard how smart lord Fyr was supposed to be, but it seems you’re not that smart after all, are you?”

Helseth smirked and looked around the room to see most of his guards holding their breaths, deathly afraid of Divayth Fyr’s reaction. But Helseth wanted to show them he at least had the guts to stand up to a Telvanni, no matter how old and powerful a wizard the Mer might be.

He had expected Divayth to become angry, maybe shout out or even curse him, but he had not expected the sly little smile that was on his face.

“Four great houses, Helseth, four unified great houses going against us, are you sure of that?”

That had Helseth confused; what did he mean, was there another house about to turn against him, and if so, which house? The confusion and concern must have shown on his face for Divayth laughed again,

“Yes, think about it Helseth. Who is next to betray you? Well, I would love to be able to stay here all day long, and see you struggle with that thought and second guess everyone near you, but I cannot. People to see, places to conquer, I’m sure you know how it is, Helseth. Good-bye, my liege, and best of luck.” And with a smile, he raised his arms and vanished from sight.

Helseth knew he had to move fast. He summoned the heads of the four other houses; to three he simply told them to come tomorrow, to Athyn Sarethi he sent word that he had uncovered a witness who could identify the killers of lord Nerevar. He was sure that could get Athyn to come to Mournhold.

And the last thing he did that day was pay a visit to the Argonian member of the Camonna Tong, and tell him that the plan had been changed. He should not say Varvur Sarethi had been behind the attack, but rather that he’d seen a servant of Baladas Demnevanni put something in the drink of lord Nerevar the day he was murdered.

He went to bed that night, smiling and thinking to himself that things might just work out even better this way, but all the while he could not forget what Divayth had said about places to conquer. Had it been idle chatter, or based on something more? He fell asleep very late that night.

Posted by: Olen Mar 14 2008, 04:41 PM

This is storming along, the oblivion part came right out of the blue, and the offer from the brotherhood, well it figures. I'm loving this. Awesome stuff.

Posted by: Alexander Mar 14 2008, 05:11 PM

Chapter 14. Honor and the price of it.

Gulvan Drules was staring out over the walls of Necrom. An old Dunmer, even by the standards of his people, he had once been very tall and powerfully built, but in the last few years he’d begun walking a bit bent. His hair, which had once been black as the night, was now streaked with grey and his eyes, once the brightest red, were now dulled and cloudy. He who had once ruled the mighty house Indoril, now ruled no more than a city and the small surrounding area.

He thought back to how this had all come to be. Not 10 years hence, he’d been the Gahprovihn, the faction leader, of house Indoril, but things had changed since he first came into power. Most of his old allies had been long dead, their sons or sometimes even grandsons now ruling in their stead, and those young ones were so different than the old.

Far too many Indoril had found Hlaalu friends, far too many rumors of bribery swirled about the once honourable house. Bribed officials in house Indoril, it was unheard of and he would not tolerate it. Of course he had found some evidence, not much, but some, but before he could offer it to the council, he was summoned himself before that Indoril body. He remembered entering the room and seeing the two Alt Gahshaldmas and five Gahshaldmas sitting there, waiting for him. Some looked downcast, as if not wanting to be there, but others were almost beaming. He stood proudly before the council, and was told he had become too old to be the Gahprovihn. Too old, the thought of it still made his gall rise. It was certainly the very first time a Gahprovihn had ever been deemed too old.

Oh, they were nice about it; they bestowed upon him the rank of Alt Gahshaldmas, high army leader; only three of those were ever active at the same time, and they made him overlord of Necrom and the surrounding area, but he and everyone else knew it was but an excuse to get rid of him. Surely he could have gone against the will of the council, rebelled against it, but Gulvan was not the type to do so. His honor would not permit it.

Those years he’d been at Necrom now had seemed almost like centuries rather than years. He found himself aging more quickly then before, and he was unsure if it was due to the strange nature of the city or to being betrayed by his own house.

Oh he hadn’t wasted all of his time there, no most definitely not. He spent the first year doing his best to get all the people he trusted stationed either inside Necrom, or in the surrounding area. It made his sleep far easier. And of course when he’d been at Necrom for a while, there was the uproar; lord Nerevar coming back to life, back from the dead or reincarnated. Those first few months no one knew for certain. Gulvan had done his best to stay informed; he was greatly interested in the journeys of this man who would be a living god, and was tremendously impressed by him when he was able to defeat Dagoth Ur.

Then when he also performed a personal service to Gulvan, he pledged his life to lord Nerevar; he couldn’t care if it was really the reincarnated Nerevar or not; he had proven himself by doing what he did in the best interest of Morrowind and that was more than enough for Gulvan. And in return, Gulvan had been blessed enough to be called a friend by lord Nerevar.

But sadly, that too had come to an end. A week ago lord Nerevar had been buried. Ten days, ten days ago he’d still been alive; it seemed like so much longer. And now with lord Nerevar gone, so had hope for Morrowind’s future. A future without corruption, where honor once again counted for something. Or so Gulvan was convinced anyway.

King Helseth certainly would not bring them order and peace; if anything, he would make it harder on Morrowind then Dagoth Ur ever had. At least against him Morrowind had stood united; with Helseth there it was a sure mix for a civil war. Gulvan had known it all along, but still felt his heart drop when the order had come to organise for battle. It was a direct order from the new Gahprovihn, but he had still been disappointed. Perhaps deep down he had hoped that Azura would take him before it all came to pass. Sadly, he was denied even that simple blessing.

War. Helseth and the Gahprovihn would have him mass all of his men, and march north on Velothi’s Haven and Firewatch, undoubtedly killing thousands of his men, but that was certainly no inconvenience to Helseth, who thought honor was simply a word someone had invented to get paid more.

He was roused from his thoughts by someone clearing his throat. He sighed, looked around and saw Endris Dilmyn, one of the brightest and most promising of Gulvan’s retainers. He had come to Necrom with him, and Gulvan had done what he could to promote him to Gahshaldmas the first chance he got. He was his right hand, his rock through troubled times, but now he himself looked a bit troubled.

“Yes Endris, what is it?”

“Could I ask what you were looking at my lord?”

“Ah nothing Endris, just trying to see if I could catch a glimpse of some spotted owls. But I’m sure that’s not why you’re here right?”

“My lord, there are two guests here to see you.”

“Really? Guests at Necrom, no that’s not an everyday picture. Who are they, Endris?”

“Master Divayth Fyr of house Telvanni, and a robed man who would not identify himself, but whom Master Fyr has told me is the Archmagister of house Telvanni.”

Well, that certainly explained the look of apprehension on Endris’ face. It’s not every day one gets to greet probably the oldest inhabitant of Morrowind, and likely the most powerful one as well.

“Where are they now Endris?”

“Pardon me, my lord, but I thought it a safe precaution to ask them to wait at the gate, and the guards there have arrows pointing at them.”

That made Gulvan chuckle. “Really, Endris, arrows will accomplish nothing against Master Fyr, and those gates could not keep someone a tenth as strong as he out; no they only wait there because they want to. Please Endris, show them inside and ask them to join me in my study. I shall go there and prepare drinks.”

Endris’ face had flushed; he knew a rebuke when he heard it. “Of course my lord, I will bring them to you immediately.”

Posted by: milanius Mar 14 2008, 06:05 PM

No. Just making a guess where events are headed.

Posted by: Agent Griff Mar 14 2008, 07:01 PM

I love the way you describe old Gulvan's melancholy when it comes to the day of his glory as head of House Indoril. I'm sure that Fyr could sway the whole city of Necrom on his (and House Telvanni's of course) side if he were to promise Gulvan that, once Helseth is deposed, he can have the rule of his old House back. Seeing as there is little love between the king and Gulvan, I'm sure it wouldn't be hard to turn down such an offer. Of course, that's just my take on the situation. I expect you to surprise me and confirm my expectations of your talent. You still confuse "then" with "than" however. It has appeared in this update as well. A minor oversight I suppose.

In other news, VICTORY!!!

Today I've finally acquired A Clash of Kings and A Feast for Crows! Now I can finally get on with reading Martin's masterpiece. I've already reached page 62 as of posting this and I can firmly say that this book lives up to all expectations. Happy day!

Posted by: Alexander Mar 14 2008, 07:53 PM

hm, tough call but I don't think he would accept that even if Fyr were to offer it. You see honor means everything to him, and wouldn't agreeing to such an arrangement make him no better then others of his house influenced by the Hlaalu? Well at least in the eyes of honor, and in his own eyes that is



Cool! I hope you have the time to read them very soon and in full, definitely worth it and I'm sure you'll love both

Posted by: BSD-IES Mar 14 2008, 10:19 PM

You're certainly weaving a lot of plot threads here, it's going to be a big release of tension as a reader when they're all pulled together. And... I still can't see where this is going

Pest. I shall have to keep checking every day to see what tidbits of info you've given.

Life's hard isn't it?

Posted by: Alexander Mar 14 2008, 10:40 PM

Hehe, I guess that means I've done my job well neh? I mean keeping readers on the proverbial edge of their seat is kinda what a writer is supposed to do right?

Posted by: Marcel Rhodes Mar 14 2008, 11:57 PM

Having just read through the most recent updates...

I've got to say, not only is that a hell of a twist, but as I think Trey was saying, it makes perfect sense. Great stuff.

Posted by: Alexander Mar 15 2008, 09:35 AM

Gulvan looked at the two men as they entered his study. Divayth Fyr had not changed a bit. Of course last time he saw him was but a week ago at the funeral, but even before that he hadn’t changed a bit since Gulvan was young. He’d first seen him when he was but a boy, just studying to be a warrior. His father had taken him along one time when he went to visit Divayth Fyr, and the old Wizard looked not a day older than on that day many centuries ago.

“Welcome Master Fyr, and welcome Archmagister.” He inclined his head towards the robed figure, who nodded in return. “May I get you something to drink?” He passed out two cups and indicated to the two visitors to take a seat. “Now then, what brings Master Fyr and the Archmagister to the city of the dead? Visiting an old relative perhaps?”

Gulvan had always had the habit of jesting when he was nervous. And he had to admit, the company of these two made him more nervous then he cared to consider.

“May we speak in private Gulvan?”

“Of course Master Fyr.” Gulvan indicated to Endris that he should leave.

“Thank you, Gulvan. I understand you’ve received orders to organize your forces and move on Velothi’s Haven, and then on to Firewatch. Am I correct?”

Well, there certainly seemed no sense in denying it, so Gulvan was equally direct: “Yes, you are correct, though I wonder if you’d care to explain how you came to know this.”

Divayth smiled, “That does not matter right now. Gulvan, you may have considered this already, but you’re being misled by king Helseth. We are not the ones who killed lord Nerevar, I assure you that.”

“Well master Fyr, you certainly don’t beat around the bush. I will admit I had my doubts, but of course without proof….” He held out his hands.

“Yes, well proof we do have. But first I’d like to tell you what Helseth is planning, then you can judge for yourself.”
“Helseth meant to have an Argonian member of the Camonna Tong testify against Varvur Sarethi, claiming he was the one who poisoned lord Nerevar, and then to combine the other four great houses to wage war on the Redoran and eventually eradicate them. Then he planned to move against the Telvanni, saying we were in league with the Redoran and wiping us out. As scattered as we were, they likely would have succeeded. And then, after a thorough cleansing of the three remaining houses, Helseth would be able to rule unopposed as a virtual dictator over all those who remained. Of course with our attack he was forced to change course so now he sends you to Velothi’s Haven and Firewatch, gaining two things. First, he hopes we will focus on this part of the land while he can roam free on Vvardenfall, and second, he will rid himself of you and yours.”

Gulvan considered that for a moment; it certainly seemed plausible and something Helseth could have come up with.

“Well, assuming for a moment that is true, I would still have no choice. My Gahprovihn has ordered me onwards and I cannot disobey.“

Divayth frowned, “Your Gahprovihn is a scoundrel, Gulvan. Surely you’ve come to the same conclusion by now.”

“Perhaps so, but there is no proof. If I cannot prove he is corrupt, I cannot disobey him.”

“Well, that offers a dilemma now, doesn’t it? What if we were to provide a witness, a witness that could testify to him being corrupt and someone you know would not lie?”

“I’d say you will have a hard time finding such a person Master Fyr. There are very few people who I would believe on nothing but their word.”

The robed man slowly stood, turned towards Gulvan and lowered his hood. Gulvan stared at him, not believing his eyes. “Lord Geles, but you’re…”

A deep and powerful voice answered, “I am the Archmagister of house Telvanni. And I promise you, the Telvanni were not responsible for the death of lord Nerevar.”

Gulvan thought about that; this changed everything. “So lord Nerevar really is dead then?”

“Yes he is.”

“And what about the rest of Master Fyr’s words? Is the Gahprovihn corrupt?”

“Yes, your Gahprovihn is corrupt, as are the other two Alt Gahshaldmas, most of house Hlaalu, some of house Dres and even some of house Redoran. And the Telvanni were also not responsible for the deaths of Dram Bero and Crassius Curio. Helseth was behind those murders as well.”

Gulvan had suspected this all along, but to hear this person say it, his word was proof enough.

“Well gentlemen, I fear that places me in a precarious position; I find myself between two superpowers, Helseth’s army to the south and you to the north. I cannot continue serving house Indoril, yet I have no intention of joining house Telvanni. I’m between a proverbial rock and a hard place, or in this case, between a mushroom and Mournhold.”

Again the robed man spoke, “A wise man once said, ‘When faced with two options, choose the third.’ ten years ago, when the council voted you out of office, it was already ruled by the corrupt. So Gulvan, I say you were never voted out of office. You are still the rightful Gahprovihn, and you are house Indoril. Knowing you, the people here and around Necrom are all loyal to you, and above all honourable. Put the question to them if you would, and ask them who they want as their Gahprovihn- that rat who was given the position by the king’s cronies, or you. I think you already know the answer.”

“Gulvan, house Telvanni supports you, and eventually others will, too. We will win this war, make no mistake about it, and I would not ask this of you if I did not think you were up to it. But rise once more Gulvan, become Gahprovihn once more, show Morrowind and all of Tamriel once more why you were the youngest Gahprovihn in history. And together, together we will usher in a new age. Are you with me?”
Gulvan did not have to think. As the Archmagister had been speaking, he’d felt power returning to his bones and muscles, where before he had bent over, he was standing upright again. The Archmagister was right; this might be the last chance he had to show the world what he could do, and his best chance to leave the world a far better place than when he had come into it.

“I’ll do it Archmagister. I don’t know if I’m making the right choice, but for better or worse, I’m yours.”

The formerly hooded Archmagister smiled. “Thank you Gulvan. Now, call in your Alt Gahshaldmas, for we have much to discuss, much to plan, and little time.”

Posted by: Agent Griff Mar 15 2008, 10:39 AM

Despite what you said, pretty much what I predicted happened. Fyr and the robed figure offered Gulvan the position of leader of House Indoril and he accepted without thinking. Pretty much as I said, Necrom is now an ally of House Telvanni and Indoril will likely be split in two as a faction supports Gulvan and the other faction supports the corrupt leader of the House. Still, you have such an epic way of writing all this, I can't help but love it.

Posted by: Olen Mar 15 2008, 12:25 PM

This hooded figure fascinates me. I have an idea of who he might be but only a very vauge one. He was a good touch in persuading Gulvan to effectivly start a civil war within his own house while believing he does the right thing (perhaps he does).

"between a mushroom and Mournhold" I loved that line.

This is developing nicely though I wander if all will continue to go so well for the Telvanni, they're becoming rather powerful. You have quite a cast of characters too. I'm surprised at how fast Helseth is unravelling though.

Posted by: Alexander Mar 15 2008, 05:37 PM

Chapter 15. The enemy of my enemy….

Baladas had been a guest of Athyn Sarethi for two days now. Well, technically he’d been a guest at Athyn’s house, though he would be surprised if Athyn even knew yet he was staying there. Word had arrived from Divayth Fyr sending Baladas with the enchanted steel plaque west to Ald’Ruhn to speak to Athyn Sarethi about Redoran involvement in the war. Because that was definitely what it was, a war.

Over the last few days, many things had happened. House Hlaalu and House Dres had declared themselves to be in support of king Helseth; House Indoril had also officially declared for the king, though what was not official was that nearly a third of the nobles of that house had taken all of their men and retainers and travelled to Necrom, where they joined the outcast Indoril who were supporting the Telvanni. The Fighters Guild had also chosen to support the king, but with the Camonna Tong being the true force behind that guild, it was only to be expected, and the Mages Guild had done the same. While they had no love for any of the Great Houses, their greatest wrath had always been aimed at the Telvanni, and what better way then this to join in destroying their competition once and for all.

After the guilds had declared for the king, Baladas had taken the forces stationed at Tel Uvirith and marched on Wolverine Hall. No great battle was fought that day though, for when they arrived there, most of the guild members had gone already, leaving only Skink, the local leader of the Mages Guild. The Argonian mage presented the formal declarations of war from both guilds to Baladas, though he obviously took no joy in doing so. Skink, Baladas reflected, had always been a bit of a Telvanni at heart. Perhaps having lived so long in Wolverine Hall, some Telvanni virtues had rubbed off on him. Baladas politely bid him farewell and said he hoped he would never find himself facing Skink in battle.

The Temple and Buoyant Armigers had remained true to their word. Though Helseth had tried everything in his power, they simply would not do anything but declare to all sides that they would remain neutral. The same went for the Imperial Legion and Cult. They had both recalled all of their members back to Ebonheart, had fortified it and declared it would remain off limits to both sides until such time as one side either surrendered or was destroyed.

The Thieves Guild had not been heard from, but rumors indicated a battle had been fought in Balmora and Vivec between the Thieves and their enemies. If the rumors were correct, the Thieves Guild was badly beaten, with many of its high ranking members killed or imprisoned and so would not be able to side either way in this war. No one had heard anything from the Morag Tong. Anyone who went there found the headquarters at Vivec boarded shut, and no word reached any side other than “no”. Mephala only knew what they were going to do.

House Redoran had reluctantly sided with the king as well. While he was their rightful king, there was no love lost between the two. Baladas knew that, if given a good excuse, Redoran would gladly pull out of the war and declare neutrality.

Only one battle had been fought so far; under the ruse of delivering a declaration of war, a Hlaalu noble and quite a few “bodyguards” as he called then, were admitted into Suran, and after delivering their declaration, had proceeded to violate the ancient treaty of a messenger by attacking the occupying Telvanni. They were well on their way to recapturing the city until Divayth Fyr showed up and single-handedly beat back the attackers. Hlaalu forces were forced to leave and were now laying siege to the city, quite a ways back though, as they wanted no more of Divayth’s magic. Baladas grinned; the siege of Suran had to be the least effective siege in all of Tamriel’s history, with the besiegers not being able to encircle the city entirely, only being able to lay siege to one side, and afraid to even show their faces to actually watch the city for fear of drawing the attention of Divayth.

No, right now the war wasn’t going very well for king Helseth, though who knew what would happen in a few weeks when he got more organized. There was no denying the fact that the Telvanni and their allies were badly outnumbered, and only the element of surprise had aided them so far and that was no longer relevant. So Baladas found himself in Sarethi manor, awaiting the arrival of Athyn Sarethi and hoping to be able to deliver a very serious blow to the forces of king Helseth without losing a single man.

Baladas looked up at the door as a servant entered the room, “Magister Baladas, again I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting, but Archmaster Sarethi is approaching the manor, and he’s asked for you to wait for him in his study. Please follow me.” Baladas was brought to the study, and sure enough, in less then half an hour Athyn entered. Tall and powerfully built, he was easily half a head taller than Baladas himself. He sat down behind his desk and gestured for Baladas to seat himself as well. After he ordered his servant to bring them some drinks, he got right to the point.

“So Baladas, is there any reason why I should not have you arrested straight away? We are after all at war with one another.” Baladas smiled at that; it was one thing he’d always liked about the Redoran Archmaster, he never waisted any words getting to the point.

“Lord Sarethi, I come as messenger. I have something very important to show you if you could spare a moment of your time. I assure you it will be worth it.”

“Telvanni trickery, no doubt, or even a bribe? If it is either of the two, I suggest you leave now.”

“No lord Sarethi, I bring you only truth.” Baladas stood up and took the steel plaque out of his bag, placed it on the table and pressed the correct symbols to unlock the memory stored inside.

It brought up the scene of a lavishly decorated mansion. Both the men looking at it were familiar with the mansion. It was the home of the late councillor Curio. The picture showed him and Master Bero arriving together late at night, presumably after the funeral of lord Nerevar. Both entered, and after some words of goodbye, Dram Bero closed the door behind him and left, probably heading to his own mansion. Curio gave a long sigh, sat down and pored himself a cup of wine. He took a long drink, and then spotted something out of the corner of his eye. He set down the cup, looked at what he’d seen and spoke,

“Drusus, still here? I would have thought you’d be back at the palace by now, giving my response to the king.”

An Imperial came out of the shadows to stand before Crassius. “Ah, but I have. I’ve actually just come back from speaking to king Helseth about your, ah unfortunate misconception.”

“Don’t try and be coy with me, puppet, there is no misconception here. Helseth wants me to hand over control of House Hlaalu so he can use it for his own benefit, and I will not do that. Vedam Dren left me in charge here, and I mean to stay in charge until his return.”

“Yes, well about that, king Helseth is a reasonable man; he asked me to offer his terms once more. Think about this Crassius, a home in the countryside, enough gold and servants to play with to last you the rest of your lifetime; it seems like a good deal, especially considering the alternative.”

Crassius snorted at that, “And what would that be?” The reply was a statement of the simplest kind and said a great deal about the nature of this man, this Drusus.

“Death.”

Crassius looked at him slyly, “Well, if the king wants me dead, he’ll just have to send someone to do it. You’ve been here for a time now, shared my meat and mead, so we are both protected from each other by ancient rights. When you get back to Helseth, tell him I don’t intend to change my mind, nor will I forget what I know about the previous king and his sudden demise.”

Drusus sighed, “I was afraid you were going to say that, old man.”

From his belt he drew what appeared to be a small piece of rope, or wire. Before Crassius could call out, he wrapped it around his throat and pulled it tight.

The image faded away, and Sarethi sat for a few moments in thought, then looked at Baladas and asked, “Can you give me your word that this is real?”

“I give you my word; I also give you the word of Eno Hlaalu, who gave this to us.”
Athyn Sarethi nodded. Baladas imagined this was simply confirming what Athyn had already thought, so he had no problem believing it.

“Tell your Archmagister he will get what he wants. Redoran will have no more to do with this war. But if you cross our borders even an inch, you will all wish you had never heard the name Redoran. All of our lands are henceforth off limits to all but Redoran.”

“Thank you, that’s all we’re asking of you Archmaster.” With that, Baladas stood, “And now I’ll do us both a favour, and leave. A good day to you Archmaster.” And Baladas stood and turned to leave but before he could Sarethi spoke again;” “Ah, one more thing before you go Baladas, I just got back from Omayni, and the strangest things have been happening there lately. First I get a message from my son saying there are spies at Omayni, actually leading the city. Then when I get there, I find a distressed garrison who have “lost” their commander and his wife. I don’t suppose you would know anything about that would you Baladas.”

Baladas saw Athyn look at him with suspicion in his eyes, though he truly had no idea. “No Archmaster Sarethi, sorry but I can’t help you there.”

“I didn’t think so” Came the reply, and with a wave of his hand, Athyn indicated Baladas was excused.

He was escorted by a servant back to the entrance, and there cast his spell and transported back to Sadrith Mora. It was a day well spent. Even the time spent waiting at Ald’Ruhn had been worth it, to have Redoran sit out the war. In half an hour’s time, he had taken away one of the biggest threats to the Telvanni, had made sure their entire northern border, everything above Ghostgate, was secure, with no need to station more then a token guard there. Of course Baladas had no illusions; the combined forces of Hlaalu, Dres, Indoril and the guilds still outnumbered House Telvanni, but at least the numbers were less disparate then at the start of the conflict.

Posted by: BSD-IES Mar 15 2008, 07:16 PM

So. All the sides are now set, lined up like pieces on a chessboard. Helseth on the attack, Telvanni an agressive defence. But still... I sense all is not yet in motion. The disappearance of the Morag Tong for one is giving me pause to reflect. Helseth with surely have mobilised the Dark Brotherhood, are they waiting for their appearance? And what of the commander of Omayni, who had appeared to have wealth beyond his station.

No, clearly you have a few surprises still left in store for us. I look forward to discovering what they might be

Posted by: milanius Mar 15 2008, 11:15 PM

Hit & Run tactic has done well for Fyr so far, but the aggressive political lobying [like we're seeing now] has to follow up. Even if Indoril decide to wage war on each other, mages are still heavily outnumbered.

The fact that 2 out of 3 independent guilds in Morrowind decided to immediately side with Hlaalu against Telvanni [in spite of that house's current leadership] also makes things much more difficult. The only bright side for Telvanni is that remaining Imperial forces will, just like Armigers, remain neutral. Morag Tong, on the other hand, can be viewed as pure oportunists and I am eagerly awaiting their involvement in the story.

Posted by: Alexander Mar 16 2008, 09:45 AM

When Baladas arrived at Sadrith Mora, one of his spellwrights was standing at the entrance to Tel Naga, waiting for him.

“Excuse me Magister Demnevanni, but there’s a message I’ve been given to deliver to you.”

Baladas took the paper, and looked it over. There was no enchantment there; nothing would burst into flames should he open it and there was no seal. He unfolded it and read what it said.

I await your pleasure at Muriel’s

Baladas was curious what the person who wrote it wanted. Dirty Muriel’s was known to be a place where thieves and sometimes even assassins would congregate.

“Come with me,” he told the spellwright and started for Muriel’s. It wasn’t far, just on the edge of town and it took them only minutes to get there. At the door, he asked the spellwright to wait for him outside, and entered the tavern. Around the corner, an Imperial was standing guard. As Baladas entered he drew his blade, but seeing who entered, he lowered it again.

“He’s waiting upstairs. Follow me.” And the Imperial walked up the stairs. To the right there were three rooms, and standing in front of the middle room was a large Altmer woman. She must be the famed Big Helende. It wasn’t common for an Altmer to choose the profession of a thief, but if the stories held any truth to them, she was more then good at her chosen profession. When she saw him walk up the stairs, she opened the door behind her and allowed Baladas inside.

The room was empty save for a cabinet and a bed, and on the bed a Redguard was lying. The parts Baladas could see were badly burned. He had many scars on his face and one of his eyes was gone. He looked up as Baladas entered and the remaining eye fixed the Telvanni with and unblinking stare.

“Thank you for seeing me, Magister, and I must apologize for my appearance. I’ve found when Camonna Tong operatives question someone, they do not care for the damage they do. My name is Jim Stacey, Gentleman Jim; though I realise I don’t look much like a gentleman right now.”

Baladas had heard of Jim Stacey of course; his name was often associated with the Bal Molagmer, not to mention some very spectacular thefts. Word had it, he was the first to succeed in stealing an Elder Scroll from the Imperial Palace in Cyrodiil.

“Before you go on Stacey, after we’re done here I’ll send one of my healers to you. I’m not so good at it myself, but I employ some very good healers. They will do what they can for you.”

Jim Stacey looked grateful for that, then nodded his head and continued, “They attacked just after dark, in Balmora., Our tavern was surrounded by warriors and assassins alike, they barricaded all the doors and windows, and then set fire to it. Everyone inside was burned alive. Those who succeeded in breaking through a window were slaughtered in the street. Of course the Hlaalu magistrates took no notice of what happened. Only one of our men was able to escape unobserved, or so he thought. He came to me in Vivec, and brought word of what had happened, but he hadn’t noticed being followed and before we knew what hit us, 15 Camonna thugs had stormed and broken into our secret hideout in Vivec. They killed the people with me, and tried to get information out of me, but when their guard was down I was able to take out an amulet that transported me here.”

Baladas assumed that was why no official word had reached anyone from the guild.

“So you see, Magister, we’re in a difficult spot right now; more then a third of our numbers are dead, with others in hiding with no place to go. And most of all, we have no way to pay back the men who did this.”

Baladas got the hint. You scratch our back and we scratch yours.

“Well, Jim, it seems we have this big old tower here, just outside of town, and it’s just sitting there doing nothing. I’m sure no one would notice, or even want to notice, if somehow it was used by some refugees.”
Jim Stacey looked up and smiled at Baladas,
Be assured Magister, if any of our rats just happen to overhear anything, or should you need something stolen, we will be at your disposal.”

Posted by: BSD-IES Mar 16 2008, 10:40 AM

Poor Gentleman Jim! I always liked him as well... Anyway, now the Thieves Guild are in the mix, and the Telvanni needed someone to act as their eyes and ears, especially against an opponent as devious and used to subterfuge as Helseth. All these plot strands....

Looking forwards to the next update

Posted by: Agent Griff Mar 16 2008, 02:31 PM

So the table is set and the pieces are moving. It seems that, according to my predictions, the Mages Guild and the Fighters Guild both joined with Helseth. He now has at least one thousand eager swords and more than a hundred budding mages ready to do his bidding. House Telvanni however has the Vampires, half of House Indoril and the remnants of the Thieves Guild.

Outnumbered to be sure but not outmatched is what I'd say. I think the two sides are rather evenly matched.

Posted by: Alexander Mar 16 2008, 05:46 PM

Chapter 16. Dreams and nightmares.

Helseth was standing at the waterfront in Balmora. It was dark all around him, the dead of night. He was wearing a long black robe, and a black hood covered his face. Surrounding him were several Royal guards, disguised though, and several leading members of the Camonna Tong. He’d been invited by them to join in this joyous moment. In front of him he saw the outlines of a building, that he had gone past the during previous trips to the city, but never inside. He had no business going into a club run by the thieves guild.

The entire town was silent, but Helseth knew it was but a front. Silently, many men were advancing on the club. One of the leaders of the Tong had given Helseth a night eye amulet so he could watch the show. He saw men carrying wooden boards and hammers advance on the clubhouse. An unseen and unheard sign moved them into swift action. They hurried to board shut all of the windows and doors. With so many men working together, it was done before anyone could stop them.

The same men now picked up torches, and lit them using spells. Then, at the sign of one of the leaders, they threw the burning torches into the small openings they had left in the windows and door. The torches had likely been magically enhanced, for in no time at all, the building was ablaze. From the inside Helseth heard coughing, and some screaming. A smile crossed his lips, and the screaming increased as the fire moved through the building. Then he saw movement near a corner of the building, and started to shout, but one of the Tong stopped him. It was a nasty looking Dunmer with a large scar covering one side of his face, and he had not shaved in many weeks.

“Leave it, king Helseth. Leave the critter, we will follow it and it will lead us right to those we seek.”

Helseth understood- trap a big fish by letting a small one think he’s escaped.

No one in Balmora had been attracted by the screams and noise; everyone knew better then to come running to the aid of foreigners. The best way to lead a long life in Balmora was to mind your own business. The screams were starting to waver now; someone had shoved a young child through an opening in the window, thinking to save it, but one of the Tong picked it up by its leg and threw it back inside. The child did not come back out. Helseth knew the exciting part was over. He turned to the Tong leader to thank him, but a movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention.

He turned toward the movement and backed up. Before him stood a person dressed in a black robe just like the one Helseth was wearing, but this figure was ten feet high and towered over Helseth. Helseth looked to the people around him and pointed at the figure, but no one seemed to notice him.

“Helseth,” the figure boomed, ”Helseth, you will pay for this travesty; you will not go unpunished.”

Helseth saw him raise his arms, and felt power being drawn to them as lightning cracked in the air and converged on the outstretched hands of the figure. He saw the boll of lightning fly towards him with speed unimaginable and knew he could not possibly avoid it.

Helseth let out a scream and sat up. His sheets, his underwear, everything was streaming with sweat. He looked around, half expecting the robed figure to appear next to his bed, but fortunately he was nowhere to be found. Helseth sighed in relief. He could not remember the last time he’d been that scared. And it had all started so nicely. He moved out of bed, put on his bed robe and his shoes and moved to the door. He opened it and saw a figure in a black robe turn towards him. The figure reached out, and Helseth felt a tug and immense pain and saw the robed figure holding a bloody Dunmer’s heart in his hand. Helseth looked down to his chest and saw a gaping hole where his heart used to be. He screamed.

Drenched in sweat, Helseth sat up. He looked around his room; two servants were standing near the edge of the bed, looking at him with wild large eyes. Helseth assumed he must have been screaming again. Ever since he’d gone to Balmora, his nights had been restless. Each night he dreamed the same dream- it always started out with his memories of that night in Balmora, but then the robed figure appeared. After that first night he’d ordered his guards to turn Mournhold inside out to find this robed man, but apart from the dead clothier found in his shop, nothing out of the ordinary had been discovered.

Helseth allowed his servants to help him dress, and glared at them, challenging them to say but a single wrong word about his screams, but unfortunately none of them said anything to give Helseth an excuse to punish them.

When Helseth arrived at his study a bit later that morning, he found a number of reports waiting for him. Apparently they and a message from Athyn Sarethi had been delivered some time during the night. The first message was bad news, but not something Helseth was surprised to hear. That brainless Yngling had come up with a brilliant plan, or so he thought. He wished to send a small army of Hlaalu under cover of truce into Suran, drop the flag of truce and retake the city. Helseth had told him not to go through with it, but he would not listen. Now yet another part of the Hlaalu army had been massacred senselessly.

“Oh,” Yngling noted proudly, “but not all is lost, for we have Suran under siege.”

Helseth snorted; that would be the first time a city would succumb to the pressure of a siege that was only executed on one side, with two other sides wide open. No, the battle for Suran was not one they would easily win, and Helseth knew that. On the other hand, if it kept Yngling occupied, he wouldn’t be able to create any more disasters.

Next came a message from one of Helseth’s spies. He read it carefully, smiled and cast it aside. Now all that was left was the message of Athyn Sarethi. It was sealed in wax and with the seal of Redoran. Helseth turned it over, looked at it with rapt attention. Somehow he felt this would not contain good news. He removed the seal, opened the letter and read:

King Helseth,

House Redoran hereby officially withdraws its support to the combined war effort aimed against house Telvanni.

Evidence has been presented to us, showing and proving beyond the shadow of a doubt that house Telvanni was not responsible for the death of Councillor Curio, but that in fact one of your guards, on your very order was the murderer. We also have more than sufficient reason to believe you are in some way connected to the disappearance of Councillor Dram Bero.

In light of this evidence, we can no longer take seriously your claims that house Telvanni was behind the murder of lord Nerevar. And therefore, we see no alternative but to withdraw our support.

Starting today until the end of the war, all Redoran territory will be sealed off and neither side may enter, or travel through our lands. Any incursions will be dealt with severely and with deadly force.

Letters stating our conclusions and conditions have been sent to the heads of the great houses.

Sincerely,

Athyn Sarethi
Archmaster of house Redoran

Posted by: BSD-IES Mar 16 2008, 05:51 PM

Ha!! I sort of suspect his reaction might be a picture

Aah, you're bringing this to life nicely Al. Nice work mate, I am really enjoying this.

Posted by: Olen Mar 16 2008, 10:27 PM

Yes its always nice to find more of this ready to read. Its well paced and the pieces are dropping in well. Great stuff.

Posted by: milanius Mar 16 2008, 11:00 PM

Recap & breakdown:

1. Telvanni forces include all of Telvanni, Ashlander clans Ahemussa, Zainab and Urshilaku [possibly, although Urshilaku hate everyone?], Annundae vampire clan [presumably boosted by unknown number of 'converts'], about 35% of the house Indoril and remnants of Thieves guild, now operating from new headquarters in Sadriht Mora.

2. Helseth's forces include his loyalist troops, House Hlaalu [for now, but events surrounding Dram Bero might make a rift within it], Camonna Tong, 65% of house Indoril, House Dres and both Mages and Fighters Guild, formidable allies. Dark Brotherhood is not to be forgotten - they are a force, striking from shadows when you least expect them to.

3. Neutral side includes Temple, Armigers, House Redoran, whatever is left of Imperial forces [Ebonheart] and perhaps Morag Tong... perhaps, because I am almost certain they will side with someone, although it might not necessarily be Telvanni.

Are forces involved in conflict ballanced now? If the poor leadership [Ygling] of house Hlaalu remains incompetent, if Fyr and Baladas continue their relentles political campaign during armed conflict and if Morag Tong decides to side themselves with Telvanni, the scales will be tipped in their favor. As for covert operations... Thieves guild, no matter how decimated it is now, can provide excellent support; however, they're easily countered by Cammona, as it was seen earlier - there are competent spies and agents on both sides, capable of striking heavy blows to both sides in conflict.

The war, in the end, will be determined by morale, as always. Whoever has better fighting spirit will prevail, but since both sides aren't 'righteous', by my definition of that word, the next deciding factor is competence. So far, better leadership [in this story] is one that Telvanni have.

Posted by: minque Mar 16 2008, 11:39 PM

Breathtaking it is! Just read the installments made during this week and enjoyed them immensly. I'm not trying to speculate or assume things, others do that so well already, I'll just continue to enjoy this remarkble story.

Posted by: The Metal Mallet Mar 17 2008, 03:34 AM

I've caught up once again and I must say things are proving to be highly interesting. The way you are weaving all these plots is certainly fascinating especially when it is portrayed in a way that is not difficult to follow and it does not loose focus. Great work!

Posted by: Agent Griff Mar 17 2008, 08:23 AM

I can smell a whiff of Joffrey in Helseth. They are both somewhat cruel but Helseth appears to be more calculating, not just mindlessly cruel like Joffrey. Anyway, I liked Sarethi's message to Helseth and I also like the fact that Helseth's conscience is being plagued by the events he witnessed in Balmora. Either that, or the Telvanni Archmagister is playing with his dreams.

Posted by: Alexander Mar 17 2008, 10:06 AM

Helseth ripped the letter in two, then ripped it again, and threw it onto his desk. How did they find out? This was maddening; someone was going around messing up all the work Helseth had gone through such lengths to prepare. It was as if he was facing someone who knew what he would do even before he did. It just wasn’t fair. He was the king; people should worship him, help him, obey him, not oppose him.

He sat down in his chair and put his head in his hands, wondering what else could go wrong that day.

He dispatched messages to the heads of Indoril and Dres asking them to come to the palace. Helseth wanted to make sure he could at least still count on them to support him. He also met with a fortunate break. During the course of the day, as he was waiting for the leaders to arrive, two other guests arrived- Sjoring, the Master of the fighters guild and Trebonius Artorius, Arch-mage of the mages guild. Both were there to assure Helseth they were still in full support of him.

The fighters guild had come as no surprise, given that the Camonna Tong owned most of their leaders, but to see the mages guild here, that was a fortunate event. Helseth had no love for Trebonius, a decaying old man who probably hadn’t had a clear day in years. None dared say it to his face though, for the man still wielded undeniable power. Trebonius was no fan of Dunmer, and he resented his superiors in Cyrodiil for ever sending him to Morrowind in the first place, but as much as he disliked the Dunmer in general, and their king specifically, it was nothing compared to the hatred and animosity he had for the Telvanni. And as the saying goes, the enemy of my enemy is my friend.

A herald came in carrying a message from one of Helseth’s spies. He took it and read it, and found his rage rising again, and was just about to curse, when another knock on the door came. The Indoril and Dres leaders had arrived and entered Helseth’s study.

The viceroy started by saying how awful he felt about the Redoran betrayal, and that he would take great pleasure in killing Athyn Sarethi personally after they were through with the Telvanni. And he assured Helseth that house Dres was still firmly behind him. Helseth thought, “You’d better be, after all the money I spent on you,” but of course he only said he was very glad to hear that. Then the Gahprovihn of house Indoril started speaking.

“My king, those Redoran swine will pay for betraying you; house Indoril will stand at the front of the attack on the Telvanni, and we will again prove to be the most loyal of your supporters when we go up against the Redoran. Even as we speak, our men are assaulting Velothi’s Haven to conquer it in your name.”

Helseth interrupted him at that point.

“No, actually your men haven’t even started their march on Velothi’s haven, nor will they.”

The Gahprovihn looked at him with confusion.

“You see, your men from Necrom are no longer even your men. I received a message from one of my spies just before you arrived. Gulvan is sitting at Necrom still, not lifting a single finger to obey your commands, and my spy has even heard him being called Gahprovihn.”

The leader of the Indoril showed fear and stuttered, “But that cannot be! The council removed him from office; he has not been Gahprovihn in 10 years.”

“Well, perhaps you should tell him that.” Helseth’s smile was not friendly at all, unless one considered the smile of a slaughterfish moving in for the kill nice.

“So, what did you say we should do to a traitor’s house? ‘Trample their bones into dust’ wasn’t it? Should I have my friend of the Dres here turn his eye upon the Indoril lands before the Telvanni?”

The Gahprovihn shuddered at the thought; he did not want to face the armies of the Dres, that was for sure.

“My king, please allow us to redeem ourselves. We will march on Necrom and destroy the traitor and all his followers. Please allow us to prove ourselves to you.”

Helseth smiled again; that was all he’d wanted.

“Yes, I will allow you to do so. In fact, we’re all moving on Necrom. This morning another spy brought me word of the Telvanni plans. Necrom is the key to everything. If we take Necrom, the Telvanni will have lost the war. Gentlemen, assemble your armies with all haste, and bring them to the lands to the north of Mournhold. There we will assemble our army and march on Necrom.”

Both the leaders signalled their agreement, bowed and left as fast as their legs could carry them to prepare for battle. After they were gone Helseth found himself wondering how things would go. He’d lost house Redoran, but gained the fighters guild and mages guild. Between the Mages guild mages and the Dres and Indoril wizards, they might just stand a chance against the Telvanni.

He’d lost part of the Indoril, but there were many mercenaries he could hire to replace them. And he should not forget that even though the Telvanni border along the Redoran lands no longer had to be manned, they still had a far larger border to defend than Helseth, and no way of knowing from whence the attack would come. Yes, Helseth considered, I still outnumber them, I know more than them and I will be victorious.

Posted by: Alexander Mar 17 2008, 07:47 PM

Chapter 17. The die is cast.

The past few weeks had seen little action, but much tension. The Redoran turning neutral meant almost a quarter of the Telvanni border had been secured with no man lost. Baladas was pleased with that, but knew the war wasn’t nearly over. While Helseth’s army had become smaller, it still outnumbered the Telvanni and their allies 3:1 or even more, not very good odds. Luckily, thanks to the help of Jim Stacey and Eno Hlaalu, the Telvanni leaders were very well informed. Any movement made by Helseth’s army was almost instantly reported to the Telvanni leaders, and so they knew Helseth was massing his army to the northwest of Mournhold. Every day, more men were arriving, heavily armed infantry from House Indoril, lightly armored but very fast and agile spearmen, and mounted giant wasps from house Dres, steel and iron clad infantry from house Hlaalu, cavalry mercenaries from the neighbouring provinces and members of the Fighters and Mages guilds. A mass of men whose numbers were swelling each day.

Divayth had asked Baladas to come to Necrom for a special council of war. They would determine their next course from there. Baladas found himself standing in front of the city, though Necropolis might have been a better description for it. The place was surrounded by very high and very thick walls, but as Baladas entered, what got to him most was the silence. Right behind the gates there was a lot of noise and movement as in any city, but toward the center of Necrom there was almost an absolute silence. This section contained the entrances to the underground tombs, and everyone respected that by keeping silent when they were there.

Unlike some cities, there was no luxurious and lavish looking palace or council hall in Necrom; instead there was a large citadel on the sea side of the city. The citadel was ringed with yet another tall wall and beyond it Baladas could hear the noise of movement. Many Indoril who had chosen the side of the Telvanni had come to Necrom and its villages just beyond, and many of them had looked for and found protection behind Necrom’s high walls. A Dunmer approached Baladas and bid him to follow to the study in the citadel.

Drulvan’s study was very plain- little more then a desk with some chairs in front of it and a conference table. On the table was a large map of Morrowind, and several people surrounded it. At the head of the table he saw the now well-known figure of the man in the black hooded robe; at his right sat Divayth Fyr and at his left the newly chosen Gahprovihn of House Indoril, well, the part that had chosen to side with the Telvanni anyway. Also seated at the table were Dhaunayne Aundae and Endris Dilmyn, the Alt Gahshaldmas of the Indoril.

Baladas was seated opposite the robed Archmagister, and Divayth called the council to order.

“Welcome Baladas., I trust the preparations are in place?”

“Yes Divayth, I’ve made sure a quarter of our Telvanni Wizards are stationed between Ghostgate and Suran, all along the mountains, together with the Vampires. And another quarter are divided over the area between Suran and Tel Branora. And I’ve ordered the remainder and the Ashlanders to come here. What I don’t understand, however, is why. Why here?”

Divayth smiled, “Then I shall explain, Baladas. Look at the map. Thanks to our Redoran friends, we can be sure none shall attack us north of Ghostgate. Now there are only a few possible options for Helseth to take.”

“He can try going at Ghostgate, but that would mean travelling the Foyada Mamaea, which is folly. Crossing into the Molag Amur region that way is folly as well, for it will leave Ghostgate and Suran free to attack his flanks, not to mention having to face Tel Uvirith and all the places where one can ambush someone in there. Moving on any other place on Vvardenfall, like Bal Fell or Tel Branora would require a massive fleet, which he neither has in that area, nor can he move one there. Magic would work, but the Dres and Mages Guild members simply couldn’t manage it even if they wanted to.”

“That leaves the mainland, and especially Necrom as a very likely target. And just to make sure Helseth does not become too creative, I’ve let some word slip of our plans for the Ghostfence. He’ll have no choice but to march on Necrom. And this is where we will crush him.”

“But Magister Divayth, how can we? After leaving our Vampires and most of the Telvanni at Vvardenfall we’ll be outnumbered many times, and the walls of Necrom won’t keep out the flying Dres. While we have divided our forces to cover a large area, Helseth can concentrate on crushing us here, and then defeat the other garrisons at his leisure.

“I realise that it appears that way, Baladas, but put your faith into the Telvanni and our new Archmagister, and I promise you everything will work out for the best.”

Baladas sighed; apparently there was no reasoning with Fyr or any of the others present. Either everyone knew something Baladas didn’t, or they were all willingly heading to their doom.

“Magister Fyr, what would you have me do now?”

Fyr pointed at a location on the map. “Dervon’s Watch, a small city north of Mournhold. That’s where Helseth’s army will likely cross the river. They can’t afford to leave any strong places at their backs if they wish to march on Necrom, so we predict they will start off by securing Dervon’s Watch. I want you to go there, and manage our retreat. Do your best to hold the city for a day at least, more if you can, but unnecessary deaths are to be avoided. Retreat to Salen Vulgate, between there and Dervon’s Watch we’ve constructed a number of defensive positions. Every position will buy us time, hours sometimes, days at other times. After Salen Vulgate falls, retreat back here. Buy us as much time as you can, with as few casualties as possible.”

“As you wish. I will go to Dervon’s Watch with all haste.”

“Good,” said Magister Fyr. “And when you’re once again back here, we will have one final council of war before the battle starts. Good luck to you, Baladas.”

Posted by: Agent Griff Mar 17 2008, 08:33 PM

So things have finally started moving. Helseth's army is advancing on Necrom while the Telvanni continue their policy of aggressive defence. It seems Fyr is using hit and run tactics to slow the loyalist forces down while he bides his time in Necrom doing god knows what. I think you shall leave us all surprised when Fyr reveals his ace (which he surely has, otherwise he wouldn't be acting so smug).

Posted by: Alexander Mar 17 2008, 08:51 PM

The ensuing week was an exhausting one for Baladas. It was clear to him that stalling was the only thing he could do. Most of the land around Dervon’s Watch was flat- grassland, some farms and the like, sometimes a few hills, but never anything higher. It wasn’t easy to create ambushes in there. Divayth had ordered a number of trenches built straight across the road at several mile intervals. And he’d ordered a number of other surprises as well.

The first few times Helseth’s army came across a trench, they simply stormed it with their mercenary infantry, and sent cavalry to flank it, and after some heavy fighting, Baladas would retreat to the next trench. That continued until the third line of defence. As before, Helseth sent part of his cavalry to flank the line, but Divayth had prepared a number of traps. On the sides of the line, pits had been dug with spikes and snakes in them, and then covered with grass, wood and leaves so no one saw them. The cavalry stormed to the side of the line, and crashed down into the pits. Many of them died. And the infantry already at the trenches were unable to retreat because behind them, separating them from the main forces, a wall of fire suddenly rose up. None of those infantry men made it back alive.

When Baladas’ forces reached Salen Vulgate, he sent word to Necrom that he’d only be able to stall for another day. He’d already won almost a week, so his mission was more than a success. The entire town of Salen Vulgate had been prepared to be a trap. Pits of spikes and snakes were dug all around town, houses were trapped to fall down as soon as someone entered the door, and magical blasts were set to go off as soon as someone entered certain areas. Baladas hoped to kill as many of Helseth’s troops there as in the entire week before. But even then, it would not be enough. Several thousand would be dead, but many thousands more would survive to advance on Necrom. Still, Baladas had his troops provide a brisk defence before retreating from the town near dusk. He wanted Helseth’s army bloodied and weary, so that they would decide to enter Salen Vulgate rather than pursue.

Most of Baladas’ men were halfway to Necrom when he saw a large explosion on the horizon. That was the final surprise of Salen Vulgate; near the end of the city, a magical blast hammered the lead elements of Helseth’s force and also set off other magical traps throughout the city. When he saw it, Baladas knew he’d done everything he could, so he cast a levitation spell and flew onwards, over the heads of his men to Necrom.

Arriving in Necrom, he found Drulvan Vules and the robed Archmagister in conference in Drulvan’s study. “For better or worse, I’ve given us the week you sought. Now I hope you’re ready with some surprises, because otherwise we’re all doomed.”

Drulvan looked at him with a smile and said, “The Archmagister was just telling me that you haven’t been told everything that has been going on. Perhaps you should take the time now to ask those questions you want to ask, before the enemy gets here.”

Baladas thought about that, about how since the start of all of this there had been so many questions and so few answers. Of course, asking too many questions in house Telvanni had, in the past, been a sure way to die young. Even so, Baladas felt he’d had enough- better to die with answers, then live not knowing what was going on.

“I just don’t understand any of this, Drulvan. Why are there so many Indoril willing to join the Telvanni in what appears to be suicide? Why is no one worried about the coming battle? We can’t possibly win against such an army, so why are people choosing to let fully half of the Telvanni and all of the Vampires remain on Vvardenfall when we can use them here? And who is that man, if he even is a man? He’s supposed to be my Archmagister, but I’ve never even seen his face.”

“Many questions, Baladas. I can’t answer all of them, but I can answer some of them. Why did part of the Indoril join with Telvanni? Simple. Helseth would have blamed the death of Crassius Curio on the Telvanni, when we know it was he who was responsible instead. Helseth would also want to have us believe the Telvanni were behind the murder of lord Nerevar. As to that, let’s just say we’ve seen some very convincing evidence to the contrary. And Helseth has said the Telvanni are without honor, which simply isn’t so. You might not know this, but when he was younger, my son was found to be a magic user. Instead of entering house Indoril where the skill might be neglected, he instead choose to join house Telvanni. He entered service with Mistress Therana in Tel Branora, who sent him to Bal Fell to loot it. Things didn’t go exactly as planned as the Mages guild also went there. Just as my son was about to die, lord Nerevar appeared at Bal Fell as a favour to Divayth Fyr, and he sent the Mages guild fleeing. He saved my son’s life and won my service for the rest of my life. Divayth Fyr then went to Tel Branora, killed mistress Therana, and installed Felen Maryon as the new master. My son has been able to prosper. He is now a spellwright for your house and has said often that Master Maryon is one of the most honourable men around.”

“Another example- you’ve seen my Alt Gahshaldmas last time you were here, right? Endris Dilmyn. His brother is a commoner living in Khuul and was influenced by Dagoth Ur; in fact, he became a sleeper. Lord Nerevar killed Dagoth Ur influencing him, and freed him. When he heard it, Endris promised his life to lord Nerevar. Many of the Indoril here either have a similar experience, or believe those who’ve said the Telvanni had nothing to do with the death of lord Nerevar. As to how we know the Telvanni are innocent… well, we’ll come to that later. As to why we’re not as worried as you about the coming battle, let’s just say Helseth’s allies are not all as loyal as they would have him believe. In powerful circles, isn’t everything about connections? Let’s say we know some people, who know some people, who decide where the allegiance lies with some of Helseth’s people. I can’t really elaborate yet, but let’s just say there is truth to some rumors about a certain house’s allegiance.”

“And as to your other question,” Baladas turned to the robed Archmagister. It was a deep voice emanating from underneath the robe, A voice filled with undeniable power and charisma, making it very hard for people to listen and not agree with anything being said. And yet somehow he had a feeling he’d heard the voice before somewhere.

“As to how these men know lord Nerevar was not killed by house Telvanni, the answer is simple. I told them it is not true.”

The robed figure slowly lowered his hood and looked at Baladas. Baladas looked at him, seeing without a doubt the last face he would have expected to see.

“Come,” the Archmagister spoke again, “We have much to discuss, Baladas.”


Baladas left Drulvan’s study that night with a smile on his face and a renewed confidence.

Posted by: Alexander Mar 17 2008, 08:55 PM

Two updates tonight you might ask yourself?

Yes, two updates. Thing is, I was looking over things again last night, and the next chapter is the final chapter of Varvur, and the final chapter before the real final chapter of the story.

Now that last chapter has some 14 pages to it, as opposed to the regular 4-5 pages of normal chapters, so the day after tomorrow I can start posting the first parts of that final chapter.

This is just to make things more logical, as it appears to be anyway

Posted by: The Metal Mallet Mar 17 2008, 09:15 PM

Ack! The cliffhangers of all cliffhangers! I wanna know who that bloke is!? Damn you! Haha.

Hopefully answers will be found soon. I can't wait to see the conclusion to this.

Posted by: Agent Griff Mar 18 2008, 09:03 AM

This is starting to get frustrating. Who in god's name is that robed guy? You tempt us with a juicy steak but in the end you throw us just a bone. Why can't these guys (Baladas, Drulvan et al) just say 'Ah, X, I would never have thought it to be you under those robes!'. I wonder why?

It's a mark of good story-telling however. You've now got me firmly on the edge of my seat, awaiting to see the resolution of these events.

Posted by: Alexander Mar 18 2008, 09:28 AM

Chapter 18. Staring into the Halls of Sithis

It wasn’t a very pleasant trip for Varvur. Lucien said very little, and what he did say seemed to be for the sole reason of mocking the young Dunmer. Lucien rode on a steed as black as the night, with eyes as red as Varvur’s. Just looking at the animal would tell you there was something unnatural about it; it was definitely not of this world. The road they were travelling was bland, a standard highway like so many in this province. They were moving south, though Lucien had refused to tell him where they were heading. They had set out at first light, and it was after noon when on the horizon, Varvur saw the tall walls of a city.

“Bravil,” Lucien explained, “the city of Regulus Terentius, who recently boasted to the other nobles of Cyrodiil, of how little crime there was in his city when compared to others. The snob actually thinks it’s because of him that so many thieves are afraid to settle there. If he only knew the real reason.”

Another laugh followed. Much could be said about Lucien, Varvur thought, but none could call him grumpy.
The horse Varvur had ridden was housed in a stable near the gate to Bravil, but he noticed that Lucien did not stable his steed there but rather simply let him loose. Varvur assumed the steed would come back to Lucien whenever he needed it. Upon entering the gate, they turned left and walked a small ways along the outer wall until they reached a very humble looking home, one that looked exactly like all the others. Lucien knocked, in what Varvur thought might have been in a certain way, and the door opened. Inside Varvur saw a Bosmer, who looked so much like Belwen one might have thought he’d come back from the dead. The Bosmer saw him looking and observed,

“Heh, don’t wo’y I ain’t no ghost now, and Belwen ain’t su’vived that swo’d of you’s.”

Belwen was me brother, though Sithis known he was good fe’ nothin.”

This Bosmer was speaking with a terrible accent, Varvur wondered how he could ever go unnoticed.

“The name’s Ungolim, an don’t ye be thinkin of callen me Ungo o’ some so’t. Now then, me lady says you got a question fo’ me? Go ahead, speak boy.”

“Was the Dark Brotherhood behind the attack on lord Nerevar?”

“Yes, if ye’e speakin on the two bungled killin’ attempts.”

Varvur considered that answer. Ungolim must have been trying to evade the question.

“No, I mean are you the ones who poisoned the comberry juice of lord Nerevar and killed him?”

“Eh, sma’t lad. No we didn’t kill ‘im, no’ do we know who did. We t’ied to kill ’im twice, and twice failed, then he kill’d so nea’ly all ou’ men in Mo’’owind, no ‘tis neve’ wise to go afte’ someone th’ice.”

Varvur felt his hope slip away. Why would the Brotherhood lie about such a thing? They would more likely boast at having been able to offer such a splendid soul to Sithis; no it had to be the truth, but then did that mean he had come to Cyrodiil all for nothing, done what he did to Fafnir all for nothing, still with no answer to this mystery? Varvur felt like despairing, but wanted to assure himself he’d gotten all he could from Ungolim before he left again.

“Well, if the Brotherhood is not responsible, then surely you must know who was.”

He saw Ungolim looking at him slyly when he responded. “Aye, sma’t lad. We might know, yes we might. But I can’t tell ye.”

Varvur reached for his blade, determined to draw it and force these two to answer him, but before he could draw, there was a knock on the door. Lucien opened the door and three hooded, robed figures walked in. They all looked at Varvur, and one of them said,

“What is the meaning of this? Who is this, Ungolim, and what is he doing here tonight?”

“Nothin ye need conce’n ye’self with Arquen, o’de’s of the mothe’. You see young master Sarethi,” and all of a sudden every trace of the accent had left Ungolim, “I know not why, but our mother herself has ordered me to take you to her. So in a few hours time, we will go to her.”

Varvur felt foolish; he should have known no one who talked as oddly and recognisably as Ungolim would have been able to reach such an exalted post within an organization like the Dark Brotherhood.

“Will she tell me who killed lord Nerevar?” he asked Ungolim.

“Aye lad, she might, she just might do so.”

Waiting for several hours, in a house together with 5 master assassins, proved to be quite an experience. Just watching their eyes might have been enough to pass the time. He saw Ungolim sit still the entire time; he appeared to be in some sort of trance, his eyes closed and his legs crossed. Lucien had taken a book and sat himself right in front of the door, where he appeared to be reading quietly, but every now and then would look up at either Varvur or at the woman Ungolim had called Arquen. The other two people there, an Altmer and a Khajiit, were quietly speaking to each other in a corner of the room. Varvur noticed them glancing his way from time to time, but not often.

The church clock had just tolled midnight, when Ungolim opened his eyes. “It’s time,” he said. Everyone stood up, and followed Ungolim out the door. Varvur walked right behind Lucien, followed by the three others. They walked back the way they had come into the town, but turned left towards the church. Next to it Varvur saw a statue of what appeared to be an old woman. At the bottom of the statue was a plaque with the name on it, “Lucky Old Lady.” He wondered if this lady would give him luck in finding answers. Ungolim moved to stand in front of the statue, and started chanting in a strange voice. Slowly the statue started to change, the face that had first looked kind, slowly moved to an evil grin, the eyes that had been benevolent were now almost radiating cruelty. And as the statue had completed the change, it moved back a small bit, uncovering an entrance. Ungolim ordered everyone to remain there, saying the mother would only allow himself and Varvur inside, and anyone else trying to enter would die.

Posted by: BSD-IES Mar 18 2008, 02:40 PM

Wha??!! No, bu... You can't do.... AAARGH!!

You are EVIL Alex. You can't just stop it there! Get back on that computer and update this right now, or I'll....sulk and... sulk some more.

These cliffhangers are killing me, and you're enjoying them far too much.

I'm going to call you Evil Al from now on

Posted by: Alexander Mar 18 2008, 04:22 PM

Ungolim moved down the stairs, and Varvur had no choice but to follow him. They entered what appeared to be a crypt. Spider webs and dust were plentiful. There was also a smell to the place, a smell one can only find inside a tomb, the smell of death, of rotting flesh, and more, it smelled of foul magic. At the far side of the crypt there was a tomb with the likeness of a woman carved on it, and scattered about the crypt were skeletons, some of adults, but also of children. And standing in front of the tomb, a ghost-like figure of a woman. Ungolim got on his knees and was about to say something when an otherworldly voice came from the ghost, “Leave us!” It was almost amusing to see how quickly Ungolim lunged out of the crypt again. If someone like that was so scared of this ghost, Varvur knew he had to be on his toes.

“So young one, finally you stand in front of me, after having killed a faithful servant, and a traitor. Yes, I call Fafnir a traitor; anyone who will betray the Brotherhood to an outsider is a traitor. And did you see them standing outside, my faithful black hand? Ha! They wouldn’t recognise a traitor if he jumped up and slit their throats. But you do, don’t you? Yes, you see what others don’t. Yet with all your wit, you’ve failed to see the solution to your mystery. And it has been there all along, right in front of you; you have all the clues, yet you do not see it. And why should I help you then?”

Varvur didn’t know what she was speaking of. Was she simply toying with him? Trying to make him feel bad? Or did she want to trick him into agreeing to something. He wasn’t sure, but he had to know.

“I am sorry lady, but I don’t know what you mean. I don’t know who killed lord Nerevar, please tell me.”

“So you really want to know? Fine then- you killed him Varvur.” And when she saw Varvur look shocked added, “Yes, you heard me. You killed him, and I killed him, and your father killed him, and Helseth killed him, and Vivec and Almalexia killed him, and Dagoth Ur killed him., Everyone killed him, and no one killed him. You really want to find the answers, you really want to hear more clues when everything is right there, fine then, to find the one you are looking for, hear my words and mark them well, for I shall not repeat them.”

Those who live die, and those who are dead return to life.

The man you are looking for went from the house of the old god, to the house of nature.

And the key to everything lies with those who never drown, in a place built by people far from home, in a land that did not want them.

“Now leave, before I change my mind and claim your soul for my lord Sithis.” And with that, the ghost of the Night Mother vanished. Varvur went over the words again, wanting to make sure he had committed them to memory and then walked out of the crypt. As soon as he emerged, the statue of the old lady started moving back again, covering the entrance to the crypt, and Varvur saw only Lucien remained standing near it. As the statue closed, Lucien came up to him and said,

“Well, I hope my lady has given you what you came for. Now, I’ve arranged passage for you back to Morrowind, and my lady bid me to tell you she knows of your other quest as well, but also knows there is no rush there. Apparently even gods will await the pleasure of a hero.”

He smiled at that, likely thinking he’d made quite a jest even though Varvur had little idea what he spoke of. He assumed others might get it.

Lucien had arranged for Varvur to be allowed to join a caravan, but this time he did not have to worry about guarding it against trouble, for he was an honoured traveller now, himself protected by guards. All the while back to Morrowind Varvur thought over this latest riddle. He didn’t understand the first parts, but did believe he knew what the last few lines meant. ‘Those who never drown;’ only Argonians never drown. And a place built by people far away from home, in a land that did not want them. Well, Ebonheart had been built by Imperials far from their home. So had Wolverine Hall and it was even further away. This could imply either settlement, he thought, but there were very few Argonians in Wolverine Hall, and an entire Argonian mission in Ebonheart.

The first town he came to in Morrowind was Kragenmoor, which was also the end of the Caravan; from then on he’d have to find other methods of transportation. When he arrived at Kragenmoor, however, the first thing he noticed was the amount of people there, many more then he had seen when he first left for Cyrodiil and that had not been that long ago. He also noticed more then half the people were either soldiers, or training to be soldiers. And the largest surprise came when he saw his father’s cousin standing at the center of town surrounded by a number of bodyguards.

He waved at him, and moved through the throng of people to stand before his relative,

“Hello uncle, what’s going on here?”

“Haven’t you heard yet? There’s a war between the Telvanni and their evil brood on one side, and Hlaalu and Dres on the other side. House Indoril is split right down the middle, with one faction siding with Dres and Hlaalu and one with Telvanni. Your father has declared Redoran neutral, but has ordered us to fortify all our towns. This close to Indoril territory, who knows what mistakes could be made, and what things could spill over. Go see your father if you can; he should be in Blacklight, when you can, visit him and he will explain everything. So sorry Varvur, but I need to continue here.”

“Of course uncle, thank you for the information, but first I must go to Ebonheart.”
With that Varvur took his leave from Balen. Varvur sought out a captain in Kragenmoor, and asked for a horse to carry him swiftly to Veranis Hall where he could catch a boat to Ebonheart.

He arrived in Ebonheart early in the morning, and went straight to the Argonian mission. Inside he demanded to see Im-Kilaya, the head of the mission. When the Argonian arrived, Varvur decided to waste no time. He was tired of searching, and it was time to get answers. So the moment he saw Im-Kilaya, he drew the Ebony Longsword, and pointed it at him,

“Argonian, you have 5 seconds to tell me what happened the night lord Nerevar was killed, or I swear to Azura, I will end your life.”

Surprisingly, rather then deny anything, Im-Kilaya burst into tears.

Honestly Serah, I did not know this would happen, I knew nothing of the poisoning, I only did what he asked because he was my brother, I could never imagine he would do this.”

Something wasn’t right here, Varvur knew, something was very odd.

“What do you mean your brother, what did he make you do? The truth now.”

“Of course, Serah. The day before the meeting, my brother came to me. He told me his master and master Baladas was planning a surprise for lord Nerevar, but that they needed someone to distract the room for just a moment, someone no one would hurt even though it was such an important meeting. He said the only man whom they would not hurt was the poor Jester. So he asked to stand with the Jester just outside the chambers, and make sure he entered at the right time.”

“Who is your brother, then?” Varvur asked.

“Serah, my brother is Vistha-Kai, warden of master Fyr.”

Baladas. Of course, that was the answer. Now the verses made sense. He who had once lived in a Velothi dome- ‘house of the old gods’, and now in a Telvanni mushroom tower- ‘house of nature. And that first line- ‘he who had died,’ perhaps that referred to Divayth Fyr, had he died? Who knows, no one had been around for centuries who knew him when he was younger, so who could say what had happened to him in his life.

Of course who could do a better job at covering their steps then two Wizard lords of the Telvanni. Then that must also be the cause for the civil war; Hlaalu and Dres must have found out Telvanni killed lord Nerevar, and it wouldn’t surprise Varvur if it turned out the Telvanni were also the ones who killed master Curio, perhaps even in league with Dram Bero.

Now, another choice presented itself to Varvur- where would he go first? Would it be Sadrith Mora, where half the Telvanni army was likely massing, or Tel Fyr, to battle what could be the most powerful Wizard lord in all of Nirn. In the end, considering the role Fyr’s warden had played, the choice was easily made.

Posted by: BSD-IES Mar 18 2008, 04:36 PM

Oooh! Jumping to conclusions young Varvur....

Something tells me that Fyr and Baladas might just be able to set him straight on that. Although, and why I'm surprised by this I no longer know, this update raises more questions than it answers...

No way has Fyr set him up to die...so that means one of two things.

Either someone - and there's only one person it could be - is trying to get Fyr and Baladas to take the fall. Which doesn't quite add up, as Helseth wasn't expecting problems back then from the Telvanni.

Or...

My original theory might still have some merit After all:

"Those who live die, and those who are dead return to life.
The man you are looking for went from the house of the old god, to the house of nature."

Dead return to life? Well, that would work. The tricky one is the House Of Nature. However...surely it depends what you mean by nature. A certain house I can think of uses mushrooms to create their buildings....

Or is there a third choice I'm not thinking of... Like.....vampires. What's their connection. Technically, are they dead? Or at least the undead? So if someone became a vampire, could they pass as dead? Hmmm, my head's starting to hurt

Again.

Posted by: Olen Mar 18 2008, 09:42 PM

Hmm I think my idea of who the archmagister is might be correct... I suppose I'll see but he certainly fits everything. Though so does another.

But this really twists things, Baladas doesn't know who did it (well didn't anyway), so maybe Fyr did but it seems somehow unlikly. Hmm, I really am confused.

Posted by: The Metal Mallet Mar 18 2008, 11:19 PM

I think I am beginning to draw my own conclusions.

Perhaps the Nerevarine's "death" was all just a ploy to get the corrupted ones to expose themselves as the vie for power they could now claim? Fyr's calm nature throughout this whole ordeal could certainly give proof to that.

Posted by: Alexander Mar 18 2008, 11:30 PM

Well my trusted readers, very soon you'll have all the answers. Can't promise it will be tomorrow though


Ah, and to start tomorrow off nicely, I'll be posting the first update (the first of 3) just after midnight.


Alex

Posted by: Alexander Mar 19 2008, 12:06 AM

Chapter 19. Endgame.

It was before dawn and Helseth looked at the walls of Necrom. They were high, mighty and very impressive. But fortunately, thanks to the Dres army and their flying wasps, they would not stop Helseth’s army from taking the city.

All around him his army was starting to stir, men putting on their armor, sharpening their weapons, polishing their shields. Everyone knew a great victory awaited them and they wanted to look as good as they could.

Last night Helseth had received his final reports before the battle, and spoken to the faction leaders. Everyone knew what to do that day, so if all went well, and Helseth had no reason to think otherwise, he would have to do little more than watch as his victory unfolded.

He’d been surprised by the reports; fully half of house Telvanni was not here ; they were guarding other parts of the front. They were facing most of the Ashlanders though, but Helseth was not at all worried by them. Baladas Demnevanni, apparently now a Magister of house Telvanni, had come to them last night and told them they need not even bother storming the walls. Instead the Telvanni and their allies would come out of Necrom and face Helseth’s army in the field.

Helseth accepted of course, though he knew it to be madness on the part of house Telvanni. They were outnumbered nearly three to one. Almost all the forces of house Dres had shown up, which now made up of more than a third of Helseth’s army. His mercenaries, the Hlaalu and Camonna Tong men and the two guilds contributed another third, and finally the Indoril constituted nearly a third.

Helseth had thought of this day for weeks now, and he’d told his commanders last night what they would do today. They would attack during the daytime, to make sure the Vampire allies of the Telvanni were useless. Helseth wanted his Indoril in the center. They would not break and could support the flanks if need be. The Dres would serve as the reserves, ready to shore up places where they were needed. They were especially suited for that because of their light armor and fast wasps. The left flank would be held by the Hlaalu and Camonna Tong men, and the right by the fighters guild, with the cavalry mercenaries at the far right ready to storm. The mages would be at the rear, using their magic to offset the Telvanni wherever they might come.

He felt it in his very being; today would be the day to defeat these rebels. He wanted to prove to everyone once and for all, that they’d best obey him or they would surely die.

Posted by: milanius Mar 19 2008, 12:15 AM

...it'll all fail miserably, won't it?

Posted by: Alexander Mar 19 2008, 09:37 AM

Varvur had been able to dodge every patrol he came across. And he came across quite a few. Until Suran things had been easy, but he arrived in Suran to find it occupied by Telvanni. He had gone back to his mercenary guise, and was able to exit the town with no trouble from guards. Beyond it, he did his best to stay hidden. It was slow going, and there were a number of times when people had come close to noticing him, but after two days, he finally found himself looking at the entrance to Tel Fyr. Compared to some other Tels, Tel Fyr was very modest and small even. Divayth preferred not to keep too many servants around, so he did not need to accommodate them.

Varvur slowly opened the door, and snuck inside. He’d never been there before, but had frequently heard the stories of his cousin who was once kept prisoner here for a time. To the left was the way to the corprosarium, and to the right the passage to the tower of Tel Fyr, home to the Wizard lord himself. Varvur pondered his choice; he could go to the left and kill the warden first, but if he did that and then got killed by Divayth, it would have been a death without meaning. Or if he went right, to face the Wizard, he could get killed without ever having avenged lord Nerevar.

He choose to go right anyway, remembering again the tale of Balen about the snake’s head. He slowly and carefully made his way up the slope until he reached a door. Opening it slowly, he gazed ahead, looking for any magical traps. Satisfied there were none, he slowly closed the door behind him. He knew the Wizard would be one floor up, but climbing there was simply not an option. Acting on a hunch, he went into the room left of the entrance, where he saw a number of potions. He was lucky yet again; one of the potions allowed the drinker to fly, only for a short while- but still, it would do the trick nicely he thought. He drank it, and immediately felt weightless.

He’d used such a potion once before, and had found it funny to fly inside his father’s house that time. This time though, he did not find it funny at all. He tried his best to remain quiet as he slowly drifted up through the shaft to the upper floor. Poking his head just above the edge, he saw a figure standing with his back to where Varvur was. Usually Divayth wore Daedric armour, but for some reason, today he appeared only to be wearing a dark robe. He had the hood of the robe over his head and was bending a bit over a table, intensely staring at something.

Varvur drifted further upwards, and into an adjoining room. He knew he would have to wait for the potion to wear off; one thing he hadn’t trained for was fighting while he was floating about. Luckily he didn’t have to wait long. He felt himself slowly drifting down until his feet were once again firmly on the floor. He silently took off his Akavir katana and placed it on the floor, he wanted to avenge lord Nerevar with the lords own blade.

Being careful not to make a sound, Varvur snuck out of the room and looked at the figure, which he saw was still bending over the table. He felt very lucky at that moment. He snuck to the entrance of the room where the man was standing, but just before he entered, he must have stepped on something as there was a small creak.

Posted by: BSD-IES Mar 19 2008, 12:43 PM

A small creak eh? Folllowed by a huge fireball and a Dremora Lord charging at him? Or followed by Fyr turning round, smiling and saying, "Ah Varvur, I've been expecting you."

I'll have to wait to find out - though I have a pretty good idea about this one. Your portrayal of Fyr is of a much nicer wizard than I ever took him to be

Man, I really hate waiting....

Posted by: Olen Mar 19 2008, 05:04 PM

I don't think its Fyr... But I do think we're about to find out who the archmagister is. As for the coming battle someone will turn on helseth, most likly the indoril though either dres or hlaalu might. Certainly most of you're characters are more likeable than I took them to be, but then I think they're meant to be so thats fine.

I'm surprised how easily Varvur managed to sneak in though.

Posted by: Alexander Mar 19 2008, 05:16 PM

Dawn had arrived, and with it the troops had come out of the city just as Baladas had promised they would. They filed out of Necrom and positioned themselves in front of the city. A large mass of Ashlanders and former slaves formed the center, with rebel Indoril on the right and Telvanni on the left. It was a very smart tactic, Helseth knew at once.

The Hlaalu and Camonna Tong were most likely to break first, the Indoril never would, and the fighters guild would hold for a time, but the Hlaalu had never been the best fighters. Surely Baladas wanted to simply keep the Indoril and right flank of Helseth’s army busy long enough for Drulvan’s Indoril to scatter the Hlaalu, and then join the slaves and Ashlanders against Helseth’s center. Once that tide had started it would be hard to stop it.

It might have worked too, if Helseth did not have the whole of house Dres in reserve, ready to come to a failing flank. When he recognized their intentions, he spoke to the viceroy and they agreed to move the majority of the Dres behind the Hlaalu. It would bolster their resolve, keeping them in the fight longer and, should it look as if they’re breaking, the Dres would quickly come to the rescue.

Helseth looked again at the people around him- the Gahprovihn of the Indoril, the viceroy of house Dres and his many bodyguards. Both the “leaders” had chosen not to personally lead their men into battle. Especially the viceroy of the Dres seemed like a cowardly man to Helseth. Since the start of the campaign, Helseth had not once seen him without his full body armor. Every part of his body was covered; one could not even see the red of his eyes, and when he responded to something it was almost always in high grunts, as if he was afraid even to speak aloud for fear of bringing attention onto himself or providing an assassin with a target.

Helseth didn’t really care though, so long as he helped him win this battle and thus the war. He wouldn’t have cared if the viceroy had showed up naked with his ears painted purple, if he thought that would help him through this, let him do it.

Far in front of him, he suddenly heard heralds blowing horns from atop the walls. He felt that it must be the sign for attack, and he was right. Slowly but surely, the host of the Telvanni started and moved towards his army. He could see people readying their weapons, bracing themselves for the initial impact. His orders to the mages guild had been clear: wait before you fire your magic until the entire Telvanni host is committed, too early a show of power could have them running away and chasing someone can be tiring.

The Telvanni came steadily closer, and then the battle had begun. Telvanni wizards shot spells at the fighters guild, Ashlanders and slaves tried their best not to get killed while battling Helseth’s Indorils, and Drulvan’s Indorils hoping to make fast work of the Hlaalu and Tong. At the very front he saw the powerful figure of Drulvan himself, complete with his plumed helmet. Any minute now the mages guild would let loose their spells and then the Telvanni would be as good as done for.

On top of the walls, a herald suddenly blew yet another signal on his horn, a different signal this time. Helseth was just about to ask the Gahprovihn if he had heard that signal before, when suddenly all around him the sky darkened.

Posted by: BSD-IES Mar 19 2008, 05:22 PM

Oh, that's really clever! You crafty little... Bang goes Helseths plans for nullifying a certain aspect of the oppositions army.

Wow, all of a sudden I'm hungry. Maybe I'll have a a nice rare steak for tea tonight... bloody as hell...

Posted by: Agent Griff Mar 19 2008, 06:17 PM

I don't know why, but I think the Mages Guild will turn. You made us think that the Dres might surrender by describing their leader as a craven, but then again Helseth's plans do depend on the Mages Guild pretty much. We'll see however. Brilliant story. Truly one of the best epic stories on this site and when I say epic I mean epic! A tad short maybe.

Posted by: milanius Mar 19 2008, 06:35 PM

Darkened sky, eh? Guess who can fight in shade... Hlaalu flank may find themselves knee-deep in vampires any time soon.

Posted by: Agent Griff Mar 19 2008, 08:40 PM

Oh, clever me. I forgot all about the vampires.

Posted by: minque Mar 19 2008, 08:44 PM

Ahrrghh been away from home about 48 hours and find a h*** of a lot of updates.....mymy....I'm reading and pondering, but it doesn't help, no way Sir....


AAAAAAHHH I want more....NOW! please...

Posted by: Alexander Mar 19 2008, 09:13 PM

Well, since they're already on the side of the Telvanni, I'm sure it was not the party Gulvan was speaking about to Baladas.




I promise, I promise, tomorrow will bring many answers. Like last night, I plan to post the first one right after midnight.

Posted by: BSD-IES Mar 19 2008, 09:18 PM

Fangtastic! Bring on the witching hour...

Posted by: Alexander Mar 20 2008, 12:02 AM

Varvur felt a strong tug at the Ebony Longsword, and next thing he knew it was flying upwards, in an arc towards the cloaked figure, who caught it, but rather then hold it, placed it on the table in front of him.

Varvur wanted to jump forward and throw himself at the figure, willing to use his own body as a weapon, but for some reason he was unable to move. The Wizard must have put him under a spell. It was so frustrating and maddening, to be this close to finishing the killer of lord Nerevar, and not even be able to move.

That feeling changed though, when the cloaked figure pulled down his hood, and in a calm and low voice said, “Hello Varvur, I’m glad you made it just in time.”

Varvur couldn’t believe his eyes. The figure, without the hood, looked exactly like lord Nerevar. He had to be an impostor, perhaps Baladas trying to fool him, or Divayth trying to fool the world. Apparently his feelings must have been visible on his face.

“Haha, don’t worry Varvur, I’m not an impostor, I am lord Nerevar.”

Lord Nerevar made a move of his hand, and Varvur could move again.

“Come here Varvur, there is something I‘d like for you to see. Do not worry, I will explain all in a moment, but for now, please, come.”

Varvur moved forward, and looked in the direction lord Nerevar was pointing, toward a large steel tablet lying on the table, and in it, he saw moving pictures. It seemed so lifelike, the scenes appeared to be happening right in front of his eyes. He saw a great city, looking not unlike Necrom, and before the city, two armies were fighting. He saw armour everywhere, men dying as a great host of what appeared to be a combination of mercenaries, Hlaalu retainers, fighters guild members and Indoril soldiers were advancing toward the city. Behind the advancing army came another host, this time of some standard infantry, but also spearmen with spears and shields, on top of giant flying wasps. Varvur realised those must be Dres warriors, and knew that the city was about to fall. No city in history had been able to successfully defend itself against the flying wasps.

Posted by: Steve Mar 20 2008, 05:47 AM

I just spent an hour catching up and now I'm still so behind!!!
It's like reading a good book series and when you finish one book you can't wait for the other!
But with this, it is paragraphs you can't wait for! lol

Varvur has been such a good person throughout all of this. He seems simple and innocent to this whole mess. I definetally enjoyed reading his stuff the most.
But uh, the most difficult thing for me to figure out is. How does Lord Nerevar die and then live? I'm so confused......
But! I shall wait patiently!

Posted by: The Metal Mallet Mar 20 2008, 06:08 AM

I have a feeling that will be explained via the platter as well, Steve. I do say that this conclusion is going to be epic though. Epic as... "Epic Movie" Just kidding. It's much, MUCH better than that terrible film.

Posted by: BSD-IES Mar 20 2008, 07:29 AM

YES!!!! So I haven't turned into some conspiracy theory nutjob. My faith in myself is restored.

Though you still tricked me I notice. Everyone assumed it would be Fyr he was sneaking up on

All the ends starting to come together now. Bring on the pointy teeth to ruin Helseth's day

Hm, I think I've figured that one out now. I think. Just to be on the safe side, I'm not going to sprout any more theories...

Posted by: Alexander Mar 20 2008, 09:14 AM

Helseth had no idea what caused it, but he knew it would not be good. All around him the sky had continued to darken until no part of the sun could be seen. Helseth still had the amulet of night eye he’d been given that night when he was in Balmora, and he activated it’s magic. What he saw did not make him happy.

Most of his army was as good as blind; the fighters guild members who had just before been rushing towards the Telvanni were now stumbling over each other, giving the Telvanni the chance to focus their energy on combating the mages guild. The Ashlanders and slaves seemed to have lost interest in the battle, as they were slowly moving back. Most Indoril were still able to see though, so Helseth’s Indoril were following the Ashlanders and slaves. Helseth wanted to curse at them;- didn’t they realize they were breaking up the line doing that?

The Hlaalu and Camonna Tong for the most part appeared to be fine, at least fine as in being able to see their enemy. They were still being defeated by Drulvan’s Indoril but at least they could see their killers.

A loud noise to the far right rose up into the dark. Helseth assumed the fighters guild had once again found the Telvanni, but when he looked that way he still saw them slowly advancing. Further to the right, however, he saw the mercenary cavalry. Like the fighters guild, most of them had not been prepared for the darkness, nor did they have very many night eye spells available to them, leaving them with but a small ability to see. But Helseth now saw the source of the noises.

People were running among the horses, people with short blades making fast deadly strikes to the horsemen. Those people were jumping unnaturally high, or even suspended in the air. It was a slaughter and Helseth knew at once what he saw. Vampires. Somehow, after all his preparation and all his efforts to make sure the vampires could not play a part in this, Drulvan and Baladas had outsmarted him. Some powerful magic had been responsible for this darkness, and it made Helseth feel very edgy.

Fortunately though, the Dres were still there. Loyal, well prepared Dres. Not one of them had come to the battle without means to protect themselves against magic, to see in the dark, and even to fly away if outnumbered. Helseth turned to the viceroy but he didn’t even have to say a word. The viceroy simply nodded at him, turned away and signalled his herald to blow the signal for attack.

Regardless of this surprise, Helseth’s army was still in far greater numbers then the Telvanni even without the Dres, but now with the Dres throwing their weight into the battle, a total victory was assured. Helseth smiled. But that smile soon became a frozen rictus. Something was wrong.

Helseth could not believe it. The Dres had advanced alright, but when they came to the rear of the Hlaalu, Mages guild and Indoril forces, they had attacked them instead. They were attacking Helseth’s army! He had been betrayed!

Posted by: Alexander Mar 20 2008, 12:52 PM

Just as Varvur found himself thinking the city was doomed, he saw spears being thrown, and arrows loosed, and the Dres warriors took a fighting stance, but what amazed him was that the spears and arrows were not aimed at the city, but rather at the advancing army. The Dres were helping the Telvanni. They had betrayed the Hlaalu. Why would they do such a thing? What had appeared a sure victory before for the Hlaalu would turn out to be a crushing defeat.

The image faded, and all he could see now was a normal steel tablet. He looked questioningly at lord Nerevar.
“Yes, you assume correctly. The Dres chose to change sides. But come, let’s sit down for a moment, and have a drink, you’ve travelled a long journey this past month and I’m sure there are many questions you wish to ask me. You can do that.”

Together they went to the room where only moments ago, Varvur had been planning an attack. They sat down, and lord Nerevar poured a drink and gestured or Varvur to ask his questions.

“My lord, I, I don’t understand any of this, how can you be alive? I saw you die. And how could you be in league with the Telvanni? And lord, you did magic; you’ve never done magic. What is going on?”

“So many questions. Well I guess I will start with what happened, and then I’ll tell you why it happened. If after that you are left with more questions, please ask them.”

“Right then, let’s start off with what happened that evening. You were right; one of the servants was in on this. The servant that was staying at the Six Fishes, to all eyes he appeared to be a Breton, but in fact he was Argonian. It was Vistha-Kai, magically transformed to appear to be a Breton. It’s a funny thing, this magic; there’s so much one can do when one is creative. I modified a chameleon spell to not make someone reflective and thus invisible, but instead to appear to be a different shape. Vistha-Kai became my servant just days before the council meeting. He convinced his brother to send in the Jester at the right time and provided you with a “killer” by running away and not being there when you questioned the servants. As to my juice, what was in it? Nothing. It was just very good comberry juice.”

“I wasn’t actually poisoned at any time, I simply used my magic to appear dead. My body was brought downstairs and laid on top of the Imperial Altar. When everyone had gone I got up, and opened the secret door there. Vistha-Kai was waiting for me on the other side of the door with the body that would become mine. I undressed myself, put all the clothes on the other body, and then used magic to alter his appearance to match my own. Who was the man, you might wonder? A Legion deserter who not only deserted, but also stole the Lords Mail from the Legion. I had found him quite a while ago and was given the mail as a reward for killing him by Varus. I lied to him about one thing though, telling him the body was gone. I hid it knowing I might someday have use for it.”

“So, we placed the fake body on the altar, closed the secret door, made sure all of our traces in the sand were gone and then we went our separate ways. I used a spell of recall to transport straight into Tel Fyr, while Vistha-Kai swam down to the secret exit of the caves, took a boat and travelled with it to Omayni where he burned the boat. He then used an amulet to recall back here, though he mentioned he was worried if he might not have left some footprints there.”

Posted by: BSD-IES Mar 20 2008, 03:28 PM

Just as well too I'd half figured it out, though I was wrong about the body at the funeral... Changing the effects of a chameleon spell eh? Very clever indeed.

Posted by: Olen Mar 20 2008, 03:37 PM

It unfolds. And quite spectacularly. All that remains is to know why dres changed sides, and why nerevar faked his death. Great stuff, this really is very good.

Posted by: Alexander Mar 20 2008, 03:59 PM

Helseth just stood there for seconds, for minutes, it might have been half an hour, looking on as the drama unfolded. It soon became clear, without the Dres, Helseth’s army did not stand a chance, and with the Dres helping their enemy, Helseth and what remained of his army were doomed.

Helseth thought back to that moment this morning when he had sent the few bodyguards he’d taken with him on the campaign back to Mournhold to announce his victory and prepare for his triumphant return. Looking back it had been a rash decision and very premature.

He slowly turned around to look at the viceroy. He wanted to ask him why, he wanted to run at him and cut his throat out, but guards had already positioned themselves between Helseth and the viceroy.

The Gahprovihn of house Indoril was shouting, Helseth hadn’t even heard it until now, screaming at the viceroy to call off his troops. Calling him a traitor, then pleading with him to spare his life. The viceroy just stood there and listened, remaining perfectly still until he turned to one of his guards. Unspoken words passed and the guard nodded. He took several steps towards the Gahprovihn, and rather then grab his sword, he instead slowly took off his helmet.

Beneath it was Drulvan Vules. Drulvan, one of the main leaders of the rebellion, right there in Helseth’s camp. Helseth wanted to shout for guards to take off his head, but of course there were no guards loyal to him left. The Gahprovihn looked like he’d just wet himself, he looked at Drulvan, looked into his eyes and cowered onto his knees.

“Please don’t kill me, Drulvan. Please spare me. I’m too young to die. Please don’t harm me.”

Pathetic, Helseth thought, a Gahprovihn clutching at someone’s leg begging him not to kill him, that was another first for proud house Indoril.

Drulvan apparently shared his thought, for he roughly dragged the Gahprovihn back to his feet.
“Get up Meven, and die like a Mer.”

The Gahprovihn burst into tears at that, and really did wet himself then. Helseth saw Drulvan turn his head in disgust, but not for long. He turned back, drew his blade and, without any ceremony, pierced Meven’s heart.

Helseth looked down, lying there was Meven Aravel, who just before had been Gahprovihn of house Indoril, now he was dead and just Meven again. He looked back up and at Drulvan.

“If you’re here, then who did I see leading your Indoril?” Helseth heard himself ask,

“Endris Dilmyn. Most reliable and fortunately, with my armor on, a spitting image of me,” came the short reply.

A dark voice giving Helseth the creeps suddenly spoke; “It’s over, we know who you are.”

Helseth turned and looked at the viceroy. The voice, however, wasn’t even close to the voice of the viceroy. It was the voice of a woman, and yet it wasn’t. Somehow it sounded very old, and mysterious. The reason for that soon became clear when the viceroy took off his helmet.

It wasn’t the viceroy at all, but rather a very old looking Dunmer Vampire.

“I am Dhaunayne Aundae,” Helseth heard her say, and realised his mistake then. For centuries rumors had been floating around Morrowind about involvement of Vampires within house Dres, but Helseth had never found any proof for this, so he choose to ignore it. How wrong he was.

“I’ll assume my friend the viceroy has been killed then for siding with me?”

“On the contrary,” Dhaunayne replied, “he did everything he did on orders from me. He’s sitting at Tear right now, having completed one of his most important assignments. During the night, he and a number of elite guards broke into the palace at Mournhold and rescued her highness, your mother Barenziah and escorted her to Tear where she is beyond your influence.”

Helseth found it hard to think right now; everything he’d worked so hard for had come crumbling down. So many months spent perfecting the potion that kept Barenziah docile, also for nothing. Looking down at the battlefield, he saw his army was being decimated. He did not expect more then a score of men to survive.

Posted by: Alexander Mar 20 2008, 04:03 PM

Well, only three more updates left after this one I just made, it contains the answer to this, and a few extra's in it But I'm saving that for tomorrow.




More you ask? Yes, I'm not entirely through with my surprise twists and turns

Posted by: The Metal Mallet Mar 20 2008, 08:30 PM

Damn, now that's some excellent planning by the Telvanni and company. They basically countered everything Helseth had planned for them! Spectacular!

Posted by: Alexander Mar 21 2008, 12:05 AM

Varvur considered all that he’d heard. “But then, why take the trouble of the boat? Why not simply vanish without a trace?”

“Because, my good Varvur, of two things. First, I wanted to steer things away from magic as much as possible. If you’d suspected the Telvanni, you might never have done the things you did. And second, to get you to Omayni.”

“So Mallam Ryon and his wife were your doing?” Varvur asked.

Yes, both of them are members of house Telvanni. They owed me a favour, so I asked them to go undercover in house Redoran, and be there to help you once you arrived. I needed to buy some time, and a sleeping draught always works nicely, I think.”

“Anyway, from there you went to the Morag Tong, again a logical choice. I knew the Morag Tong would never try and harm me, because I paid them not to. I paid them both with money, and with an ancient artefact, nearly priceless. Eno mentioned to me that he saw you looking at it. I gave it to Eno along with quite a bit of money, and in return I got a good night’s sleep each night, never needing to worry about someone stabbing me in my bed.”

“Eno sent you to Belwen, who really was a Dark Brotherhood assassin, a ranking one even. Yes, he did have that explosive device in his home, but I’d already been there myself, the night before, to disarm it. His only choice was going for the crossbow as the option of blowing you both up was useless. And I knew you’d be able to fend off a crossbow. As to the note you found, it was almost identical as the one Lucien really did send, with one important change- in the original note the name Fafnir was not present.”

“So then you went to the Imperial City, met an old friend of mine, two of them actually, and were given a quest. That was the goal in case you’re wondering, you accepting that quest. For how can Cyrodiil survive without a hero?”

“That was what I did, now on to the reason I did it. Do you know what I was called before I became lord Nerevar? Relien Geles. That was the name I took when I came to Nirn. I was sent to Morrowind by the Emperor because he thought I might match some ancient legend. Well, apparently I did. When I first got here, the temple did everything it could to stop me from succeeding, even going so far as to proclaim me an outcast. I felt very alone, very helpless. But all that changed when I first came here, to Tel Fyr. Divayth cured me of a horrible disease, and gave me immortality in the process. He also found a power inside me, found I could do magic more and better then perhaps anyone he’d ever met, including himself. He worked with me to develop that talent, and while we were doing that we grew very close. He saved my life, and then saved me again. He showed me that many ideas men and Mer have are based on nothing. Rules for the sake of rules is what he calls them. And I’ve since learned to look beyond a rigid rule, to what it actually stands for.”
“What do you mean?” Varvur asked.

“Let me give you an example. A common rule is, Vampires are evil and need to die. But why are Vampires evil? They are what they are, they often did not choose to become Vampires but rather were made unwillingly. So does that mean they’re evil? Is an Argonian a slave simply for being an Argonian? Or is he a slave because someone made him that way? And isn’t one rule that slaves are inferior to us? But then why would you speak nicely to an Argonian when you pass him in the street, yet look down on him when you see him slaving away on a plantation? I can think of a few hundred thousand Argonians back in Black Marsh who would have a very pointed answer to that.”
“One truth I learned, is this we are defined, not by our upbringing, ancestry or appearance, but rather by our actions.”

“I learned all sorts of things about the so-called truths of this world, and knew I at least would strive to be better. I went out and found all the Houses and the Ashlander tribes, becoming Hortator and Nerevarine. And then I came to Ghostgate, where I met Wulf- again, the same Wulf you met in the Tiber Septim hotel. We spoke, and like he did for you, he gave me some very good advice for latter years. So I took his coin, made him a promise and set out to find Dagoth Ur. I found the artefacts, came to Dagoth Ur and there he was, ready to share his empire with me, or so he said. And all I would have to do was bend the knee, grovel and worship him. I did not think that was a good idea, so I firmly refused him, and I guess in the end, he saw my point.”

“Then came Helseth, sending his assassins after me, trying to force me to see things his way. And then of course Almalexia, who offered me divine power, and all I had to do for it was bow to her, and worship her, and kill Vivec for her. So I killed her. And then I went to Vivec, and he proclaimed me his brother, and told me I could rule all of Morrowind, if I left Vvardenfall to him to do with as he pleased. And I killed him as punishment for his crimes. And then when the temple found out I’d killed two thirds of their Tribunal, they offered me Vivec’s palace, and lordship and dominion over all, and all I’d need to do was be their living icon, and bless them and say what a good job they’d been doing. Well, I didn’t kill them, but I did refuse them. And made my own changes as I saw fit.”

“Do you know what Wulf told me, Varvur? He told me that he’d looked into my future, and had seen me abolish slavery, and he also told me that exactly one week to the day after I did it, I was slain by my own men, my own trusty Indoril followers. You see, Varvur, in a way I had little choice, it was either kill myself, or be killed. At least I got what I wanted. Slavery is gone, and the new great Ghostfence is coming along nicely. Next year, when the Imperials look east towards Morrowind, all they will see is a Ghostfence.”

“Who was Wulf?”

“He was a god, Tiber Septim, he who became Talos. And the favour he wanted from me was you. He wanted me to make sure you wound up in the Tiber Septim hotel, on that day you did. And fortunately everything worked out nicely.”

Posted by: BSD-IES Mar 21 2008, 12:41 AM

Hehe. You know what phrase just popped into my head?


SEQUEL!!!!!!


Not that I would complain at that in the slightest

Two more posts to go? Goody, this has been a great story all the way through!

Posted by: Alexander Mar 21 2008, 12:49 AM

Well, I don't want to make any promises I won't be able to keep, but as I mentioned to you ( ) I have been penning down quite a few ideas already for a sequel to this, and the first chapter has been written already. So if I get around to it, and have as much inspiration for it as I did for Morrowind, then there will be an "Oblivion"

Posted by: Steve Mar 21 2008, 01:35 AM

YES!!!
And will there be Varvur, heading the whole story!
one can only hope.
A question that's been pestering after we figured out Lord Nerevar was alive was answered. I was wondering why he did all this and this seems to me to be the answer!

Posted by: Agent Griff Mar 21 2008, 08:05 AM

Brilliant story, from start to finish I must say, and such a breeze to read. It seems as if you began this story only yesterday, that's how quickly things went. Great work!

And if you mean to write an Oblivion story, all the better! Despite how cliché Oblivion's story is, I'm sure you can make a knock-out story out of it.

Posted by: Alexander Mar 21 2008, 09:03 AM

“Why, why did you do this, Dhaunayne? I could have given you half of Morrowind, if only you had come to me.”
“No, I would not side with you. I once saw your father from afar, and foresaw the horror he would try to bestow upon the land. I could not stop him, but when I saw you, the real you, I vowed to stop you.”

“But, what do you mean Dhaunayne? Symmachus was a great man, a general, he died serving Morrowind.”

“He was and he did, but as we both know, he was not your father. Just as we both know you are not Helseth.”

Helseth looked shocked at that. “What do you mean, Dhaunayne? I am Helseth Hlaalu, your rightful king.”

“No…. Jagarn. Like the man after whom you were named , you are but an impostor skilled at Illusion.”

Drulvan backed up. Lord Nerevar had told him the truth that day when he visited with Divayth Fyr, but Drulvan had not been prepared for what he beheld. Where just a moment before Helseth had stood, now stood the oddest, ugliest creature he had ever seen. He was short, as short as a Bosmer, but his skin was discoloured. Three different colors were mingled together, the bright color of an Altmer, the darkness of a Dunmer and the fair color of a Breton or Imperial. The pupils of his eyes were red but they had a blue-ish glow in the middle. His hair was short and dirty, as was his skin. He was dressed in rags and wasn’t even wearing shoes. It really was not a pretty sight to behold, and when it spoke, the sound was hoarse and unpleasant.

“How did you know?”

“I’ve taught myself long ago to see through such spells, Jagarn, and I was not alone. Lord Nerevar and Divayth Fyr both saw it too. Though it takes one of great power to see it.”

“I came so close. I had everything ready, the ultimate revenge on my awful mother.” He spat that last word with the deepest contempt. “She never loved me.”

“Sadly, you are wrong, Jagarn.”

“Am I? Am I now?” Jagarn exclaimed. “She sent me away; she sent me to live with peasants, farmers; she wanted nothing to do with me. First she provided the means for that dreadful hero to kill my father, and then she abandoned me, his son.”

“For years I was raised among those farmers. They could not teach me magic, could not teach me anything. Each time I came into a room, they would look at me with disgust in their eyes, and whenever I performed a feat of the magic that came so easily to me, Illusion magic, they forbade it and sometimes even beat me. They did not teach me how to read, or write. I had to learn all of that on my own.”

“All the children of the village would make fun of me, of how I looked, and never could I do anything against them. All of them were larger and stronger then me, I was but a helpless puppet in their eyes. And the other grownups, they were the worst, they even encouraged their children to call me names, and throw rocks at me, and beat me. And never was I allowed to use my magic against them or the farmer or his wife would beat me.”

“So I vowed to take revenge on the woman who put me there. I taught myself to read and write, found out everything I could about the one who put me there, and learned it was Barenziah. Barenziah, beloved queen of Wayrest and then Morrowind. I vowed to take everything from her, so she would feel what I had felt.”

“So one day, I killed the people caring for me, and I killed all those who had once harmed me in that village. I didn’t do it myself though, I simply set them to kill each other; using magic, I had them kill each other. And then I came to Morrowind, sought out Helseth when he was staying as a guest of the old king, and killed him. Then I took his place, and, well, the rest you know.”

“Poor Jagarn. You are wrong you know. Barenziah did not send you away because she hated you; she did not send you away to be rid of you, no. Barenziah sent you away because she was trying to protect you.”

“Nonsense!” Jagarn interrupted “She never cared one bit for me.”

“Again, you’re wrong. Picture the situation. Your father, Jagar Tharn had just been destroyed by the eternal champion. Things were just quieting down. How do you think the nobles at Wayrest would respond knowing you were the son of someone they had spent so long fighting? Do you think they would have just embraced you? No, they would have wanted you dead.”

“And look at you. Everyone knows how Jagar looked; everyone would have been able to see the resemblance. Even if Barenziah had made up a story about you, it would just have been a matter of time before people found out the truth, and would have had you killed anyway.”

Jagarn looked confused. Could this be true, could Dhaunayne be telling the truth? But what then of his feelings all these years, his hatred, could everything he had thought he knew been a lie?

“An old friend of mine watched that day as Barenziah gave you to the farmer and his wife for safe keeping, she told me of how Barenziah wept, she came very close to never letting you go, but she knew, if she wanted to save your life that she had to give you up.”

“She did the best she could, a small town, in the middle of nowhere, with very few people there, little realization of important things that happened in the empire, illiterate people to make sure they never found out who you really were. Children were cruel to you, but children are always cruel. They get cured of that when they grow up, or turn into people like your father.”

“Did you know Jagarn, that Barenziah came to the farm many times during those first few years? She simply could not bear being without you and wanted to see for herself that you were still well. She could not come when you were older, because seeing her might tell you things she did not want you to know, it hurt her very much, not being able to come visit you. But for your sake, she made the hard choices.”

Jagarn felt awful. As he listened he slowly came to realise it had to be true. Those few conversations he’d had with Barenziah, when she thought he was Helseth. She had been so full of love, had never wanted to believe her son had done such awful things, but all the while he had been blind to it; his hatred had blinded him.

“You know Jagarn, I‘m convinced, even if you were to go to Barenziah now, and show true remorse, she would find it in her heart to forgive you, she’s a good Mer, a far better person then any of us and someone we can look up to. Why not try it, Jagarn? Try it and see how she responds.”

Jagarn was torn; all these years he had felt left out, all these years he’d felt unloved, unwanted, scorned, and now, all of that had been a lie? Had he lied to himself for all these years? Thinking what he wanted to think, believing what he wanted to believe? Even now, could things really become better? Having a real mother in his life, someone who cared for him, who trusted him, a family. But no, he’d killed his brother, his brother who had never done anything to him and he killed him. And others as well, all those lives gone. All the damage he’d done, how could he ever live with that, knowing it had all been for nothing? For a lie.

“No! No, this cannot be, this simply cannot be! You lie, now prepare to die!”

And, with a shout, Jagarn threw himself at Dhaunayne. Drulvan never forgot the look on Dhaunayne’s face: pity, sorrow, regret all mixed in one. She moved swifter then the eye could behold and Helseth, or rather Jagarn, stopped dead in his tracks.

Dhaunayne was holding something in her hand, holding it out for Jagarn to see. Jagarn looked at it, then looked down at his chest, and a look of gratitude crossed his face as he fell down.

Dhaunayne was also looking at her hand. She held the still beating heart of Jagarn, blood dripping down onto the ground. Jagarn’s body lying in front of her. She sighed and spoke to Drulvan,

“Lord Nerevar made it clear, had Jagarn truly shown the will to surrender and face judgement, he would have lived. In prison, but lived anyway. If he resisted, death was to be his punishment.”

“Why do you think he choose death?” Drulvan asked.

“Sometimes, the idea of living in knowledge of what you’ve done is more of a fear than the unknown. I fear that Jagarn chose to die, rather then having to truly consider his life so far had been a lie and all the implications that brings with it.”

Posted by: Alexander Mar 21 2008, 12:15 PM

Varvur had two more questions; “Why the Ghostfence, and where will you go?”

“Well the Ghostfence will be there to ensure Morrowind will be ruled by Dunmer, now and forever. A very wise man once said; “The only sovereign we can allow to rule us is reason.’ I think no one could have said it better. Now that doesn’t mean I wish to isolate Morrowind, I just want to make sure no outside influence will ever again interfere with us.“

“As for what I am going to do, I will make one more appearance as lord Nerevar, before your father, explaining what I just told you and erasing any dishonour you might still have clinging to you. And forge an everlasting alliance between the Dres, Telvanni Redoran and the honourable Indoril. And then, lord Nerevar will truly die, and Archmagister Gelen will emerge.”

“Barenziah will be crowned queen, and will rule Morrowind from Tear, until the Indoril have purged themselves of corruption. Once that happens Barenziah might return to Mournhold. But for the coming time, the Ghostfence will be there to separate Morrowind from it’s surrounding provinces, and the Hlaalu and corrupt Indoril will find themselves surrounded by the Redoran to the west, Dres to the south and Telvanni and honourable Indoril to the east. They will have no choice but to reform their ways, either that or perish.”

“But what about Helseth, why did he cause so much suffering?” asked Varvur.

“King Helseth, as so much else, was not who he appeared to be. He was an impostor, but I sense his life has been ended. He will not trouble us again.” Lord Nerevar replied. “Now Varvur, I hope that answers your questions.” Varvur nodded, “good, for we have quite a journey ahead of us today. First we need to visit your father at Blacklight and explain recent events to him, and then I believe you have some business left to attend to in Cyrodiil do you not?”

“Yes, you are right Archmagister, I have a promise to keep.”

The End.

Posted by: BSD-IES Mar 21 2008, 12:28 PM

And so it ends. Several weeks of chewed fingernails, attempted plot unravelling (usually when I was supposed to be working ) devious characters...

Seems a shame it's finished to be honest. Wha a ride though. Exciting, tense, creative... I loved every second of it. Well, with one possible exception. Now it's over, I think you and I need to talk about your cruel use of cliffhangers throughout...

If there is a sequel, and I noticed you saw right through my attempts to publicly try to bring pressure , you have a loyal reader.

Once again, my thanks for entertaining me so much over these last few weeks. It's been GRAND!

Posted by: Alexander Mar 21 2008, 01:27 PM

hehe, thank you for the nice words and the praise, I'm glad you enjoyed it so much



Btw, for the $2 million dollar question, have you figured out yet who Mallam Ryon and Felisa Ulessen (the couple of Telvanni spies in Omayni) are/ were?

Posted by: Agent Griff Mar 21 2008, 02:10 PM

I think I heard the name Ryon mentioned in passing by Fyr before the battle of Necrom. I'm not sure though. Who exactly were they?

Posted by: Olen Mar 21 2008, 05:23 PM

A happy ending, and good one too. Very enjoyable story.

I liked the pace, it got along and didn't mess about too much but was slow enough to develop an awful lot of mystery and suspense.

And there's certainly the prospect of a sequel which is rather exciting, if it happens that is.

Thanks for sharing this

Posted by: BSD-IES Mar 21 2008, 08:23 PM

I seem to remember doing a few quests for them as mouths back in Morrowind.

Ulessen for Therana, that stupid skirt quest
Ryon for...was it Gothren?

Edit: Aah, just checked back in the story. Must have been Therana if she spent time working with the "mentally challenged"

Posted by: The Metal Mallet Mar 21 2008, 08:29 PM

Wow, this story has made the days go by in a blur and I mean that in a good way!

Many of the others have summed it up quite well. The story had an amazing pace to it and I enjoyed it immensely. I definitely look forward to any future work from you.

Posted by: milanius Mar 21 2008, 08:45 PM

Hate to rub it in the faces of the entire forum, but... I told you so!

There is one thing, though, I find a bit... distasteful at the very end. The notion of a Vampire overlord and supermage that is false Helseth, arguing about whether he should seek forgiveness, while the battlefield beneath them is littered with tens of thousands of corpses. All those mothers who got graves to dig, and we're engaged with Jagarn's tragic childhood... screw him and the vampire chick too, if it was my story I'd land a random Meteor Swarm right on top of their heads and it would spell out "EPIC LULZ" on the scorched ground!

Apart from that, good effort. But I really did see Nerevar faking his own death from a mile away. Best way to find the snake in the grass is to lay down, play dead and let it come near... then bite it's head off.

Posted by: Alexander Mar 21 2008, 09:03 PM

Hehe, we have a winner.

Mallam Ryon is mouth to Archmagister Gothren and Felisa Ulessen to Mistress Therana.

I was wondering if anyone would recognize the names back in the chapter



Hehe, yup, like I mentioned on IRC, I guess I made it a tad too obvious. Oh well


I'd also like to take the opportunity to thank you all for your great and positive feedback throughout all this. I'm very happy you all liked it and am going to put in an effort over the next few months to see if I can't come up with that sequel I mentioned earlier


Thanks for reading the story!

Posted by: Kiln Mar 22 2008, 12:35 AM

Amazing story Alexander, I'm glad to see that you were able to finish this one. (no disrespect intended mate, I was disappointed when you didn't continue your other story.)

I really liked the length of this particular story and the fact that there was a great balance of politics, fighting, magic, and deciet all tied into a well composed fan-fiction. I must admit that a few times I was very surprised and also amazed by the twists you'd created in the plot and a look at "Alexander's account of what happened after."

Great work mate and I'd definately read a sequel.

Posted by: Steve Mar 22 2008, 01:35 AM

This was a genius story!
Thank you very much writing. This story really topped them all! You kept the chapters coming and I'm grateful for that!
Good job!!!

Posted by: minque Mar 29 2008, 10:28 AM

Very impressive Alex! I just finished reading it and I particularly liked the way you wrapped it all up in the end. That's the way to go to write it all first and then start posting!

Anyway I'm looking forward to a sequel, and I hope that Varvur will be part of that as well, since I really have a soft spot for the Sarethi family!

Posted by: treydog Apr 1 2008, 09:16 PM

I have been remiss in not commenting on the finale...and the overall story. It is a joy to read this story- every time I read it. The ending caught me by surprise, but works so well to explain some of Helseth's...peculiarities. Alexander, this one definitely needs to be in the Hall of Fame.

Posted by: Erka Jul 13 2008, 02:17 PM

I just finished reading the story. It was great, the way well known characters who have lacked real depth in the game went very much beyond what I ecpected from their characters and I liked the way they interacted with eachother. The end was also spectacular.

Posted by: mALX Mar 18 2010, 03:54 AM

I have not gotten a chance to read this yet, but am commenting to bring it to the top so I don't have to dig looking for it when I do get the first chance. What you have in triplicate is a creative imagination - I won't miss anything you write!

Posted by: mALX Mar 30 2010, 10:34 PM

I haven't had time this week to catch up on this, so am bumping it to the top again so I don't have to search it out. - It has been a very hectic couple weeks!

Posted by: mALX Apr 8 2010, 12:14 AM

Whew! I am not caught up yet, but I see the same genius for intrigue in this as was in Cyrodiil! I have to tell you reading Cyrodiil was to have experienced something, not just read it. I'll be back for more reading of this when I have more free time again!

Posted by: Lena Wolf Apr 21 2022, 11:25 PM

Just finished reading this book - beautiful! So nice to read it in one go, too. This is an excellent bridge from Morrowind to Oblivion, which also gives the book a natural frame. Masterfully done.

Posted by: Renee Apr 25 2022, 12:04 PM

I'm glad you bumped this, I also want to give this a read as well. Never read any of Alexander's material, yet.