Trey In Mournhold, Chapter 2 Options

[Wolfie]

Another fantastic update Treydog
Trey's feelings and thoughts as he looked pon those who had died before him, untold years before hand, were especially well done

[Kiln]

Very interesting developements Trey, I just caught up on this awesome story and I'm looking forward to more of your work.

[minque]

Yes....I truly love reading about Trey, he´s like an old friend who´s adventures keep amusing me....This story , with it´s touch of subtle humour is one of my favourite stories.

So I can´t wait til next installment........You hear me treydog? Or I´ll have a word with that sweet Dachshund of yours.....btw give him a treat from me!

[mplantinga]

Another excellent addition to this great story. I particularly enjoyed Trey's reaction to the dead heroes; for a thief to leave the dead with their possessions is indeed a great sign of respect.

[Soulseeker3.0]

Great story Trey, VEry noble of him to not theive from the dead.... I always do....

[Mazuk]

Alls I can say is how did i miss chapter 1. Great writing Treydog.

[treydog]

Eventually, the cramped tunnel gave way to a great dome of a room. Braziers cast fitful light upon massive pillars leaning haphazardly against the walls. Across the way stood a platform of stone where rested what I took to be a huge plinth or altar of some sort. Amidst the piles of ruined stone and more ominous piles of skulls, I could make out the remains of an intricate mosaic floor. Of more immediate concern were the two large goblins that wandered through the gloom. They appeared to be simply scavenging through the ruins rather than serving as formal guards, so I hoped I could handle them separately. With that in mind, I quietly climbed atop a boulder in the mouth of the tunnel and intoned “boghu tromhad” to bring the magical bow to me. I waited until the goblins were at opposite ends of the room and targeted the nearest. It was a difficult shot, downhill in flickering light, so I had no real hope of making a kill. My purpose was simply to bring the monster to me. The arrow flew true and stung the goblin, which shambled toward my hiding place. Fortune favored me, as he had to negotiate a steep ramp with roughly cut footholds. That gave me a chance to bleed him a bit more.

What I did not count on was that this particular goblin knew how to cast a Firebloom spell without using a scroll. I was badly burned and had no choice but to imbibe a restorative and endure the pain before it took effect. However, I was able to put paid to the goblin without alerting his companion, so my suffering was worth it. Still, as soon as he fell, I crawled behind the boulders and shivered as my healing potion finished its work. The second goblin was easier and once he fell, I took some time to look over the room. When I reached the far side, I realized that the massive construct I had seen was actually the remains of a gigantic throne, with a seat some ten feet off of the floor. Perhaps it had once been occupied by an equally massive statue- I could not imagine a living being that would have needed such a chair. The nearby doorway, which carried the legend “Old Mournhold City Gate,” reinforced my surmise- the entrance to a great city would likely have been adorned with some heroic statuary.

Beyond the door I endured a seemingly endless time of dodging through damp, torch-lit tunnels, shooting at goblins and sprinting away. I did not always escape their retribution; I suffered a number of terrible, crushing blows from their clubs and claws. Restorative potions saved me from certain death, but the injuries still told upon me. Healing magic draws upon the will and substance of the patient; the greater the healing, the greater the drain on the recipient. At last, I could go no further; my reserves of strength and will were gone. In truth, so worn had I become that I am surprised the goblins did not mistake me for one of the unquiet spirits in that haunted place. Swallowing a levitation potion, I made my way to a crumbling balcony in some forgotten cavern and slept.

Physically refreshed, but still mentally on the ragged edge, I passed through a round metal door into the Old Mournhold Residential District to continue my demon-ridden hunt. I was no longer even sure of my reasons for being there- only deadly purpose was left. The watery cave containing the residential ruins gave me pause- it held the remains of buildings similar in style to those of Vivec. My mind could not comprehend the massive cataclysm that must have been unleashed to destroy and bury such a huge city. But that reverie lasted only a moment and I returned to my hunt. I lost count of the goblins I slew- a dozen, two dozen? It did not matter, for none were the leaders I so desperately sought. Finally, I reached a tunnel complex called the Tears of Amun-Shae, caverns that pre-dated the original city of Mournhold, ancient beyond measure. My heart told me that I was close to my goal at last. Now I simply needed to find the goblin leaders and finish my task.

Actually, the first of the goblin chiefs found me- or rather he ambushed me as I stuck my incautious head into the Tears of Amun-Shae cavern. Although I passed through the door with my customary stealth, Kurog the goblin had made a lair for himself in a chamber above the doorway. While my attention was focused ahead of me, he launched a series of destructive spells from above and behind. I spent several anxious moments fighting the effects of fire, shock, and poison before I could retaliate. When my health was restored, I levitated and faced my tormentor. It was then that the weakness of his hiding place became apparent- there was no back door. That lapse illustrated the error of relying solely on surprise for victory- what do you do if surprise is lost? What happens if the enemy survives the initial ambush? Careful thief that I was, I would never trap myself inside a place with only one exit, as Kurog had done. His spells exhausted, all he could do was gibber and froth at me as I floated out of his reach and pierced him with arrows and incinerated him with Hellfire scrolls. Half of my mission was accomplished; all that remained was to find the other chief and I could leave this place.

The second chief, Durgoc, was both easier to find and harder to kill. Easier- because he did not possess the spells of his dead compatriot; harder- because he regenerated health at an alarming rate. I was at last able to herd him into a dead end cavern, where he, too, fell to fire and steel. My long struggle against the goblins was over, though I took no satisfaction in it. As for the Altmer trainers- I neither knew nor cared where they might be hidden. Whether they abandoned the scheme and fled or remained to leave their bones alongside those of their goblin army- it was all the same to me. Before leaving the ruins of Old Mournhold, I did one last, distasteful chore and then took myself away from that place forever. Not even my accidental discovery of a vein of adamantium ore could entice me to return. The job had been long, hard, and brutal and all I wanted now was to take a hot bath and then sleep for a week. But first, I needed to report my “success.”

I made my long, slow way back out of the ruins of Old Mournhold, back to the surface, and at last climbed the steps of the Temple. Without pausing to ask for admittance, I entered the reception area and limped across the polished marble floor. My clothing was torn and still covered with blood, that of the goblins and my own, and I stank of the sewers and the smoke of torches burning underground. But I simply ignored the disapproving looks of the Temple functionaries as I made my way to Fedris Hler. When I stood before the steward, I upended the sack I carried. Two objects fell out and bounced across the floor. I didn’t wait for a reaction, but simply turned to walk away, as mute as the snarling heads of the goblin warchiefs that rolled to a stop at Fedris Hler’s feet.

Here Ends Chapter 2

This post has been edited by treydog: Oct 27 2005, 12:31 AM

[Soulseeker3.0]

wow.... Very nice Trey, I aplaud you, that was excelent.

[mplantinga]

Another great ending, as we've come to expect from the magnificent Treydog. I particularly enjoyed the way Fedris was informed of Trey's success; a little gruesome, but very appropriate.

[McBadgere]

Wow... ...

The whole jaunt under the city in Old Mournhold was just amazing...

I've never played Morrowind, and I probably never will...And part of the reason will be that there would be no way it could ever live up to the way it's described in here...

Proper brilliance...I loved the whole stalking of Goblins thing...I daren't go all quotie, there was simply too much in there to copy out... ...Besides, half of this is being read on the PS3...So finding them again would be a challenge worthy of a quest in itself... ...

I did love the way that the repeated use of the restoration spells completely wiped Trey out...That was cool...

Oh, one bit that did make me laugh...And probably was just one of them throwaway lines was the one about the Argonian that "Suffered under the name of..."... ...I liked that...

Proper brilliant, right from the off...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...




Oh, to reply to the point Blackie made...Yes, I completely understand what yer saying there...And that's absolutely fair enough...though what I will say in reply is this...

Whhat?! Pish-tosh! You guys are great!!... ...

Thoroughly amazing, the pair of you...Well, all four of you...

Blimey, you're getting to be like one of them record producers that churn out the classic artists...The first one that springs to mind was Phil Spector...But...I'm guessing you won't want that particular comparison... ...

T-Dawg presents...On the Dachshund label!... ...

[treydog]

I am actually not sure when the original Trey began…it would have been 2004 or 2005 though, yes.

As to the difference in style between Trey and Athlain, despite my enormous ego, I won’t get too deep into analyzing my own writing. I will say that the picture in my head was of Trey writing more of a “retrospective,” using his notes from the actual events. And so he had some sense of “writing for the ages.” Athlain is writing more “in the moment,” with no certainty of what will happen next. The other thing is that Trey has an awareness (and a bit of a complex) about his background, and so tends to seek a more “scholarly” tone.

And speaking of scholarship, I decided to have a little fun with the preface, and to adopt the persona of a stuffy academic who pretends to “know the truth” of events he never witnessed, and who would soil himself if he faced a drawn sword.

As to the non-reply period- Black Hand is mostly right… and remembers correctly my remark about “not spamming my own thread.” (And the fact that he does recall that is frightening in its own right!) I know I had Reasons™… mostly wanting the story to stand (or fall) on its own. But then- by seeing the example set by mALX and Acadian, I realized that this could be a much more interactive process- and that the readers deserved more than just answers to direct questions. That said, I did usually PM a first-time commenter to say thank you- which is how minque and I began corresponding all the way over at “T’Other Place.”

The other major difference with this story (and the previous) to BoTM is how closely it follows the main quest. I did not have enough confidence in my imagination to stray much… So- at least to date, Trey has never done anything “original”- although… he is immortal, and there are these rumors of dragons in Skyrim…. As someone who fancies himself a bit of a naturalist, might he go and see…? Hmmmm…

A word about the “goblins” in Tribunal. They are NASTY. More like Orcs or similar than the weak little scapers in Oblivion. Plus, I purposely tend to play my RP characters under-powered (adds that spice of “Oh good grief- time to reload- he died AGAIN). And Trey had real trouble with those beasts…

And the fact that potions and/or spells come with a cost (beyond just burning mana or gold or ingredients) is one that always “felt right” to me. The energy has to come from somewhere…

I had forgotten that bit about old Ten Tongues… I had occasional moments of lightness in what is mostly a dark story. When you meet the Orc smith, I think you will see what I mean…

Finally, much as I would like to take any credit for anyone else’s writing… Just… no. Their talent is their own- I am glad that seeing me get up there on the tight rope without a net encouraged some highly creative folks to do the same. After that, the interweaving of stories was just too much fun to pass up.

Many thanks to you for reading- it may cause me to do the same. (In fact, looking for the “suffered under the name of” bit, caused me to find and fix a typo).