Memoirs Of A Morag Tong Assassin; Volume One: Vvardenfell, Chapter One: "...to the east, to Morrowind." Options

[Black Hand]

The innocent possess no wisdom.

Would you take the word of a guard over a freed prisoner to what the value of freedom is?

Would you listen in earnest to the words of a rich man if he described hunger to you?

Would you believe a savior over a killer as to what regret truly is?

The hand that holds the knife often holds the pen for what is told after. This the case of my memoirs. I’ve tried to be as fair as I can, but I present no delusions that this is the objective account of my life, or the tale of the Nerevarine. This is my life as I have seen it, thus far.

If you wish to judge me, you are certainly free to do so. Though, I’ve made it quite clear in the title, this is the tale of an Assassin. Not the Dark Brotherhood so feared in the West, yet loved in the darkest thoughts of all.

No, I am an Assassin of a different cut, that of the Morag Tong. Perhaps you’ve heard of it, perhaps not. You’ll see soon enough that our order functions quite differently from our counterpart, and as to why we are legal within the Empire. So long as we keep our activities within our own province, that is.

If tales of treachery, deception, spilled blood; without regard to whether or not it was deserved, trouble you...read no further.

I am a Dunmer, born and raised in Cyrodiil, sent to the east, to Morrowind. I am the one who was once known as the Nerevarine. Though, I’ve left that part of my life, and myself behind me mostly. My actions have written a new myth, and that myth is best left in the hearts and minds of those it inspires, especially as I am far less than what it entails.

My name is Sethyas Velas, and this is my tale.

[Black Hand]

#H.E.R.- Absolutely true to the game,...but Cyrodiil was also supposed to be vast tropical rain-forests before they went with homogenized rolling plains. They retcon...I retcon.

#McBadgere Well, now is the only time you possess in which to change things....if you want to, that is.

#Luna1945 Uncertain of what to say here as I replied directly already. Ummm, Hi!


___________________________________________________


During one of our travels; I can scarce recall the year, I believe we were both in our early twenties; my first time in taking life came to me.

It took the form of a much older, drunken adventurer and his cohorts that we’d had the displeasure of sharing some ramshackle Inn with. I believe it was in the south of Cyrodiil, near County Bravil, perhaps Leyawiin.

The lot had just come from some dungeon delving. I just had never developed the taste for it ever since a mishap when I entered some Ayleid ruins, when I was ten or eleven on a dare. I was fortunate to leave alive.

They cast lurid glances at Setsuna and made many offensive jokes as to our race. I took it in stride as I always had. When they laid hands on her, however, that was when I took to my feet. The Imperial man had many days of unshaven stubble and a glaze in his eyes that the ale on his breath confirming it’s source. Normally staring these men down got them to calm down. He took it as a challenge.

I let him land the first blow. As though it might protect me under some idea of judicial fairness. I smiled as I rolled with the blow, and came back with one of my own. I was smart enough to hold back after he spilled his guts and his friends said that he’d had enough.

No, I did not kill him then.

I killed him late the next morning when we’d paid our tab and set about our travel to the next settlement over, and they passed us on the trail. I saw the intent and the shame in his eyes as they rode past on their horses.

They stopped as I fully expected them to, and to his credit, only the older Imperial dismounted to come settle his score with me. Setsuna whispered that we should run. I told her that we’d be running forever and that they were in a better position to overcome us. We needed to settle it here and now.

His eyes did not waver as he came to pick a fight.

“I want you to get the hell outta my province you filthy Ashborn! You hear me?” He said in a sinister whisper as he came in to shove me.

A belt knife is a common tool that many carry. It’s for cutting bread and cheese mainly, and not very sharp unless maintained. Even people visiting nobility and the like are not disarmed of this very common and practical tool.

My hands did not shake in those next few seconds. The belt knife unsheathing, the entry into his lower gut, and me putting all my force into raising it higher up his abdomen.

…and just behind the rear intestinal wall is the Vena Cava, the largest artery in the mortal body, known to exist within all races of men and mer, as well as the beast races of Khajiit, Orcs, and Argonians. An old anatomy lesson was the only thing that buzzed through my head as I guided the blade towards it with all my might.

The blood spurted out thick and nearly black. I’d certainly performed an arterial wound, he’d be dead in seconds rather than days from the septic shock. Even as I let go of the knife, he fell to his knees the world apparently spinning around him.

My eyes simply rose to his horse and companions. We had no weapons aside from our belt knives, yet I still awaited their reprisal. They had leather jerkins, and armaments that spoke of experience and use.

They simply turned their horses and rode off.

I turned to Setsuna whose eyes were wide with shock over what I’d just done. From that moment forward she would always see me in a different light. Not as though as she were afraid of me; she knew why I had done it. I had done it to protect her.

Rather, it was the first moment that my actions had truly added the first degree of separation from our twin sibling experience. Slight at first, within the leagues and years to come it would be the breadth of continents in the gap that now existed between us.

I was not changed in that moment. Rather, I was awake for the first time to this…talent, I possess. I can take life with a steady hand.

The man whose life now lay in a still pool around him granted me the spoils of his demise. Forty-two gold coin, traveling boots, a steel shortsword, and rusty iron bow with a quiver of twelve arrows.

The horse we rode and sold off at the next town.

Yes, in those moments I was awake.