The Story of Trey- Chapter 13 Options

[Wolfie]

Coooooooooooooool :goodjob:

[Channler]

It saddens me to read this, for it soon is coming to a close.. Regaurdless Trey awsome work

[OverrideB1]

That's some powerful writing right there treydog. Excellent stuff :goodjob:

[jonajosa]

[quote=Channler]It saddens me to read this, for it soon is coming to a close.. Regaurdless Trey awsome work[/quote]

I have a feeling that Trey has somthing in store for us when his story is done. By the way the story could never end if he didn't want it to. A advanced writer like Trey would be able to easily come up with more stuff to add.

- Murder mysteries
- In depth thief quests
- Commana Tong
- Guard quests
- Sailor quests
- Politics
- Smuggler
- Imperial Navy
- Imperial Army(not legion)
- A long part of his story could consist of the Imperials finally deciding to make Morrowind a part of the empire.

Tons of stuff

[OverrideB1]

I know treydog has been reluctant to read The Tale of Sudhendra Vahl at the moment because it's dealing with things he's not done. So, there is the possibility we'll see Trey involved in Tribunal or wandering the wastes of Solstheim...

[Aki]

Very Cool trey, i like your portrayal of Vivec. :goodjob:

[quote=OverrideB1]I know treydog has been reluctant to read The Tale of Sudhendra Vahl at the moment because it's dealing with things he's not done. So, there is the possibility we'll see Trey involved in Tribunal or wandering the wastes of Solstheim...[/quote]

Indeed....

[treydog]

The Urshilaku camp, for all its lonely desolation, was a welcome refuge for me. I trusted the Ashlanders as I did few others. The harshness of their existence had abraded away much of the pretense that more “civilized” people put on with their clothing. Even in House Redoran, I had discovered factions and people of questionable honor. But that was a problem for another day, perhaps a problem for the new Archmaster to sort out when she had time. My purpose was to meet Nibani and tell her of my meeting with Vivec. The wise-woman was pleased to see me, but explained that she had no more advice to offer. Regretfully, she said,

“Although I find it difficult to say, you must now follow the plan of the false god, Vivec. Recover Sunder and Keening so that you may put an end to Dagoth Ur’s madness. Seek information about the devil Dagoth Ur and his creatures at the fortress of Ghostgate. There are many there who have fought the Blight and have knowledge of the land inside the Ghostfence. They will know best how to combat the evil creatures of Red Mountain. I will pray that the ancestors guide your steps and strengthen your arm.”

So I departed from the Urshilaku, wondering if I would ever again see these people who had made me one of their own. The priests and buoyant armigers of the Ghostgate had little information to give me, and none that was new. Since the resurgence of Dagoth Ur’s strength, they had been unable to go far inside the Ghostfence. They told me of the citadels that ringed the crater of Red Mountain, each one now named for the ash vampire whose stronghold it was. The smith suggested that there might be hidden passages that would allow me to move safely and unseen into the heart of the mountain.

Those words reminded me that I had, in fact, discovered such a passage, but it was in a place that I feared to even think upon. When I had gone into Kogoruhn, where I had met and defeated Dagoth Uthol in combat, I had found a tunnel that ran under the Ghostfence and into Red Mountain. But now I knew that I had not truly killed the ash vampire, only caused him to become dormant for a time. Still, although the very thought of that stronghold turned tomb paralyzed me with fear, I forced myself to consider it. Dagoth Ur and his minions were prepared for an assault from the Ghostgate; they had withstood many such over the years. That path would leave me exposed to all the dangers of the blighted creatures, the choking ash storms, and worse. Crawling across that barren landscape, I would be like a bug on a plate. But Kogoruhn…. When I had fled from that dark place, I had promised myself that I would never return. So I weighed one fear against another- the known fear of the haunted halls of the former House Dagoth stronghold versus the unknown dangers that stalked Red Mountain. Neither choice was good- each path held terrors that could daunt the stoutest warrior. In the end, my fear of dying in a dark place, far under the ground, was greater, and I decided to enter the Ghostgate.

Almost the instant I stepped through the second portcullis, an ash slave began hurling magic at me. If this was any indication, it was going to be a long journey to the citadels of Odrosal and Vemynal. Determined to prevail, I cut down the foul creature and struggled up a steep gully. My feet slipped back two feet for every three forward and ash swirled and blew into my eyes and nose. The air was beyond foul, with smells of brimstone and worse. The sky was an eerie red color, a color that I had only seen before in the dreams that had troubled me during the voyage to Vvardenfell. But this time, there was no comforting voice, no Jiub to awaken me and assure me that all would be well. Broken trees stood out against the bloody sky, looking like nothing so much as fangs trying to rend the very heavens. Still I slogged on, defeating a second ash slave and innumerable cliff racers. Seeking a moment to rest, I ducked into a cavern whose runes indicated it was the Yassu Mine. Whatever valuable ore may have been mined there, the place appeared to be mainly a haven for nix hounds. I dispatched some half-dozen of the scaly green creatures before I decided that this was not much of a sanctuary. Although I appreciated the lack of blowing ash, I knew I couldn’t stay, so I plunged back out into the storm, working my slow way toward Odrosal.

When I was within a few hundred steps of the citadel, I was simultaneously attacked by four cliff racers, a lame corprus, and an ash slave. It is said that the work of a master swordsman resembles a dance. That may be true- I’ve never watched a master work. My own technique more closely resembled a man furiously swatting a flight of disturbed hornets. As I finished the last of the racers and stood, chest heaving from the exertion, I could hear the shrill calls of still more of the flying pests. This simply was not going to work. Even if I had the stamina (or the potions) to stand up to the constant attacks, my sword and armor would be turned to scrap before I ever reached the citadel and the ash vampire that dwelled within. No doubt Keening was heavily protected- Dagoth Ur would know what a treasure it was. Disgustedly, I cast Almsivi Intervention, which took me to the Temple in Ald’ruhn. After spending the rest of the day repairing my equipment, I made my way to the Mage Guild, hoping to get a good night’s sleep. That was a vain hope, as my mind was consumed with thoughts of where I must go the following day- Kogoruhn.

[Aki]

Wow, love the discription of the slopes of Red Mountain.

So....evil..

[Veltan]

Nice...
I wonder if Trey will meet the ash vampire a second time?
Maybe treydog will change the ending of the storyline a little bit, and change something like Dagoth Ur's answer or whatnot...

Excellent work treydog.

[Dantrag]

oh, yeah....the door from koguruhn to red mountain...

I remembered

Great work as always, Treydog

[minque]

[quote]Even in House Redoran, I had discovered factions and people of questionable honor. But that was a problem for another day, perhaps a problem for the new Archmaster to sort out when she had time[/quote]

That might be a good thing yes......especially when Trey has his hands full at the moment recovering the great artifacts....

As always this story gets right into me, the reasoning of Trey whem considering about his alternatives.....

Thanks treydog for giving this amazing story to us.. :goodjob:

[treydog]

Sleep did not seem likely to come that night, so I spent the time making restorative potions and checking my equipment. I also mixed one other special concoction, after which I was able to get some rest. In the morning, I had the guild guide send me to Caldera, where I asked Folms Mirel to set the master propylon index for Falasmaryon, the stronghold closest to Kogoruhn. If I had to go there, I was going to do so as quickly as possible. The forsaken House Dagoth stronghold was as I remembered, two-thirds buried in drifted ash, with an aura of decay and malevolence that was palpable. Before entering the Hall of Phisto, I checked my gear and made sure my sword was loose in the scabbard. Then I took out the special mixture I had created the night before and painted my face, as I had done before entering Ilunibi. Then I had made three stripes- for past, present, and future. On this day, I made only one, a vertical stripe in the center of my forehead. One stripe, because there was only one path- forward, to victory or death. With a deep breath, I shed my fear and left it outside the door as I plunged once more into the darkness of Kogoruhn.

Although a few Sixth House creatures still made Kogoruhn their home, it seemed that my previous harrowing had been effective. I reached the Nabith Waterway and the passage to Charma’s Breath with little difficulty. That foul lair was also largely empty- if Dagoth Uthol was coming back, he had not yet done so. The exit leading to the slopes of Red Mountain was as I remembered it, opening quite close to the citadel called Vemynal, where Sunder was supposed to be kept. The Dwemer ruin was clearly quite extensive, even with all of the drifted ash and the passage of years masking large sections. It was also infested with powerful Sixth House creatures- I encountered an Ascended Sleeper as well as an Ash Ghoul within the first couple of rooms. Relying on stealth and my enchanted ebony sword, I was able to add the amulets of Dagoth Nilor and Dagoth Garel to my collection. As I slipped deeper into Vemynal, I left lying Dwemer weapons and artifacts that would have thrilled me not so long ago. The only artifact I wanted was the hammer Sunder. Still, I did take possession of a pair of beautifully made alchemist’s tools, a calcinator and alembic that were obviously of grandmaster quality. It seemed to me that, if I should survive this, it would be nice to have the proper equipment to pursue a worthwhile hobby. It’s a good idea to have a fallback career in case the hero business doesn’t work out. Silent as a shadow, I slew everything in my path, still not finding the hammer. At last, I reached a door with runes that identified it as the entry to the “Hall of Torque.” The name seemed strange to me, and I wondered what a “torque” was. Perhaps some type of poultry the Dwemer had raised for food, I supposed. Whatever its original purpose, it was now the home of more Sixth House creatures, and I thinned the ranks of Dagoth Ur’s minions still further.

Confident in their strength and their proximity to the source of their power, they had no idea that a wolf had slipped in amongst the sheep. They were prepared for an attack by all the forces of the Temple and the Great Houses, marching up from the Ghostgate in rank and file. Their only warning that I was there was when a sword, blacker than the shadows from whence it came, harvested their lives. In this, I was without pity or remorse. While I suffered for every human life I had taken, these creatures had long since given up their humanity, and I felt no more regret than I would for killing venomous spiders. An odd encounter occurred in the perimeter corridor around the central room- I saw a large skeletal warrior, bearing a silver axe and a tower shield that gleamed with magicka. Sensing my presence in that arcane way the undead use to detect the living, the warrior raised its axe and screamed a challenge. The struggle that followed lasted far longer than I had wanted; I also cringed at the noise as weapons rang upon shields. If the resident ash vampire of Vemynal had been unaware of my presence before now, surely this was as good as sending up a flare. Fighting animated skeletons with a sword is always difficult, as they are largely unaffected by the thrusting attacks that succeed against fleshly opponents. Instead, I had to rely on looping overhand blows and wide swings from the side, which exposed me to return blows from the axe. Fortunately, my armor and speed proved decisive, and a well-aimed swing separated the skull of my enemy from his neck vertebrae. After making sure the previously animated assemblage of bones was truly finished, I examined the remains. The axe was inscribed as belonging to one “Beldoh the Undying,” apparently a name based on misplaced optimism.

Having removed all of the obstacles, I was able to find the steps leading down to a Dwemer door formed in two pieces. Hoping to see what was on the other side without exposing myself to an attack, I stepped behind the left side and opened the right. The room that was revealed was a large Sixth House shrine, with banners, candles, and cloying incense- none of which concealed the awful stench of decaying flesh. More important, I saw the peculiar figure of an ash vampire, who had apparently not spotted me yet. From the lore passed on by the armigers, I felt certain that this was the opponent I sought; it was unlikely that there would be more than one of the “heartwights” in this citadel. Remembering the difficulty I had experienced defeating Dagoth Uthol, I extracting from my quiver a handful of ebony arrows I had discovered elsewhere in the citadel. Although they were exceedingly rare, I could not think of a better way to expend them. Huddling in the shadow of the entry, I muttered the phrase that conjured a Daedric longbow to my hands, stepped into the open, and fired arrow after arrow at the ash vampire. Apparently, whatever Dagoth Vemyn’s powers may have been, keen sight was not one of them. As the arrows pierced him, he proceeded to scuttle back and forth inside the shrine, seemingly unable to locate the threat. That suited me perfectly, and I soon laid the creature low. Perhaps it was not honorable, or epic, or heroic- but it was effective, and that was all that mattered to me. If I could have contrived to roll a boulder down a mountain to crush him, I would have done so. After waiting to make sure the ash vampire was truly dormant, I slipped into the room and took from the corpse Sunder, as well as a magical pendant with an inscription that indicated it was known as the Amulet of Heart-Heal. That name reminded me of the Belt of Heartfire, which I had removed from Dagoth Uthol. Perhaps these artifacts provided the ash vampires’ link to the Heart of Lorkhan. If so, that might explain why Uthol had been unable to return. Regardless, I had recovered one of Kagrenac’s Tools and defeated another of Dagoth Ur’s closest kin. Although I was pleased with my success, I knew that it would only get harder. I still must find Keening and then enter the Heart Chamber itself. Surely Dagoth Ur would sense the approach of someone bearing all of the Tools, even if he had no idea of my true purpose.

[Fuzzy Knight]

Great Trey... Keep it coming! :goodjob:

[Stargazey]

Excellent....just.....excellent. :goodjob: :goodjob: :goodjob:

[Wolfie]

Awesome as always

[minque]

Great Trey...just awesome, my myy now we´re getting closer to the final countdown.....

hmm 5 jonajosa´s? well it´s not sufficient but still

:goodjob: :goodjob: :goodjob: :goodjob: :goodjob:

[Dantrag]

I love this story. Trey, you make familiar things seem new and interesting.

(notice that most of us have beat the MQ, and still enjoy your story immensely[sp?] you're truly an amazing writer!)

[treydog]

Acquiring Sunder brought me closer to my goal, but also presented me with a problem I had not anticipated. My experience with the legendary sword, Fury, had acquainted me with the “personality” that powerful magical artifacts possess. That personality is based in part upon the creator of the object, and in part on the purpose for which it was created. But the press of events had caused me to forget that until I picked up the hammer that had been fashioned by Kagrenac. Sunder was inextricably linked to the Heart of Lorkhan, for it had been made to tap into the Heart’s power. As I grasped its haft, the great hammer invaded my mind and soul with an overwhelming hunger to be used. Even when I dropped it and muffled it in cloth, I could hear it whispering in my mind. The “voice” of Sunder was akin in cadence and timbre to that of the only Dwemer I had ever met, Yagrum Bagarn. It was deep, persuasive, commanding.

“Wield me and I will give you power beyond your dreams. Use me and I will make you a god. With me you can best the Daedra princes and the foolish Tribunal. You can have your revenge- all that you desire.”

On and on went the litany of persuasion and command. No wonder Dagoth Ur had fallen to its seduction- no wonder the Tribunal had been convinced to betray Nerevar and the people of Morrowind. Each of them had already tasted power and acclaim and privilege. Most of all, each of them had already sampled the sweet nectar of devotion that attaches to all great leaders. How easy it must have been to convince them that it was their destiny, their responsibility, their duty, to become gods. And me? I, too, was tempted by that vision. What a wonderful irony- a honoured user stable-hand become a god! The Emperor, the Tribunal, even Azura- all would fear me. And what then…? Whether it was the spirit of Nerevar, the influence of Azura, or just my own stubborn Breton nature I do not know. But I knew who I was and I wanted no part of being a god. I wanted only to be done with this; to be left alone; to be Trey, a person of no particular importance. So I wrapped Sunder more securely in a spare cloak and growled my response to its whispering,

“Shut up, lest I cast you into the fires from which you were forged.”


The threat had no effect on Sunder’s promises, but it made me feel better as I contemplated another foray into the ash and heat that covered Red Mountain. I saw now that my previous attempt to reach Odrosal had been thwarted because I had used the path that Dagoth Ur expected. He had made sure that the route from the Ghostgate was heavily patrolled. But now, I would be coming from the opposite direction, using a path that was perhaps forgotten. It was time that I began to think like a thief instead of a warrior- stealth would serve me far better than strength. If my enemies could not see me, they could not stop me from reaching Odrosal. Also, Levitation would allow me to bypass the normal trails, which were no doubt closely watched. The ash storms that blanketed Red Mountain would help to conceal me, as well. Although the distance from Vemynal to Odrosal was not great, the terrain was terribly rugged. Even with Levitation to avoid the ridges and Shadow to hide from the beasts, it was a long, nerve-wracking journey. During the trip, I saw everything from cliff-racers to an Ascended Sleeper; Dagoth Ur was clearly intent on protecting the approaches to his stronghold. Fortunately, few of those guardians saw me, and I was able to reach the door to the Odrosal citadel in relatively good condition. When my feet touched the ground again, I could feel the heat even through my boots. It was as if Red Mountain itself sought to resist me. Shaking off that momentary fancy, I entered the citadel where Keening was supposed to be hidden, prepared to fight all manner of Sixth House creatures.

Unlike Vemynal, however, Odrosal seemed strangely empty. Beyond the eerie mechanical clanking of unknown Dwemer machines mindlessly spinning out their unfathomable purpose, it was also remarkably quiet. As I eased deeper into the ruin, I began to find the corpses of Sixth House dreamers scattered about. Although I was not sorry to see these enemies dead, I wondered how it might affect my mission. Was there some dissension in the Sixth House? Had some powerful warrior or sorcerer arrived before me, seeking Keening for some other purpose? The Golden Saint which attacked from the shadows of one central chamber was uncommunicative, like all of her kind. However, the presence of such a powerful summoning added to my worry. In fact, I was so preoccupied with who else might be stalking those corridors and for what purpose that I blundered through a door without paying adequate attention. It was thus that Dagoth Odros, ash vampire, had the chance to speak to me. The fact that he did so, rather than attacking immediately, so caught me by surprise that I listened to what he had to say:

“Well, Trey. Have you come to serve? Or to challenge my station? Or to try to win Keening?”

Although the sight of him filled me with dread and loathing, it seemed rude even to me to respond to his greeting with an attack, so I asked him to explain what he meant by his questions. As to the opportunity to serve the Sixth House, he told me,

“Many mortals serve their gods. Few are so fortunate to be invited to share their divine power with them. Lord Dagoth makes you a generous offer, Trey. Join him, and you can share the divine, eternal power of Lorkhan's heart. So far, all your struggles, your battling, your destructiveness... all these things might be understood as improving your bargaining position. Come now, we hold you no bitterness. You cannot truly harm us. We can afford to forgive.”

That sounded too much like the wolf inviting the hare to come over for dinner- no doubt the wolf would even offer to provide the wine. Also, I had seen what became of those who “served” House Dagoth- the corprus beasts, the Ascended Sleepers, misshapen monsters every one. More to the point, I had no desire to serve any man or god, so I bluntly declined. Dagoth Odros did not seem put off by my refusal- he simply said,

“You think to climb higher in Brother Dagoth's eyes by defeating me? Well, then, you might rise at that. None of us Heartwights can die. The power of the Heart will bring us all back in time. But, yes, you might win Lord Dagoth's favor by defeating his lieutenants. No hard feelings, Trey. I lose, I lose my rank. You lose, you lose all. You're playing for high stakes, Trey. Are you sure you want to play? Surely, there is no dishonor for a mortal to serve a god?”

Again, that seductive offer of power through service, this time with a not-so-subtle threat. It seemed to me that Dagoth Odros would only threaten if he feared, despite his assertion that he and his kind could not be killed. It certainly suited his purpose to claim immortality- it was an easy way to avoid a fight. Too, he had no inkling that my true purpose was to sever his link to the Heart, which link was the source of his eternal life. And that knowledge was an advantage I did not intend to give away.

So I asked, “Is there not some other way? Might I not have the use of Keening for a short time?”

I had no real hope that Dagoth Odros would agree, but I wanted to gauge his reaction. With a dusty laugh, the ash vampire replied,

“It is well hidden. Trey. Even if I should fall, you'll never find it. But if you choose to serve, perhaps Lord Dagoth might even consent to grant you the use of it. Surely, by coming so far, you have drawn his discerning eye, and earned his favor. Be reasonable, Trey. Why risk blood and life for that which might be won by words and service?”

Even though I had never intended to heed them, just listening to Dagoth Odros’ honeyed words had been a mistake, as I was about to discover.

[Dantrag]

awesome, as always. :goodjob:

[Zelda_Zealot]

Good post! I liked the idea of Sunder talking to you.