The Story of Trey- Chapter 4 Options

[treydog]

Chapter 4

I needed a drink, I needed a lot of life insurance, I needed a vacation, I needed a home in the country. What I had was a coat, a hat, and a gun.

Farewell My Lovely
Raymond Chandler


My mind swirled with thoughts of the "Emperor's plans for me" versus an anonymous death on a lonely road somewhere, so I settled in to mix and measure and distill potions. As always, the concentration required for alchemy calmed me. I also took a quiet pride in the fact that my homemade concoctions were getting better- more effective and longer-lasting. I had become a thief through necessity; I was an alchemist by vocation. Relaxed by my labors, I went to sleep, only to be awakened by the crash of someone tripping over my equipment. Shaking off sleep, I thought,

"If one of those clumsy mages has damaged my alchemy apparatus wandering around in the dark..."

By then, I was awake enough to see that it was not a mage, but an assassin, whose dagger had a sticky yellowish substance coating the blade. Poison! With a shout, I rolled from the bed, pulling my sword from beneath the pillow. As I had feared, the Dark Brotherhood had sent a more competent killer for this second attempt. In addition, his poisoned blade needed only to make a small wound to cause serious harm. Although my sword was heavier and could do more physical damage with a successful blow, he was striking me two times for every one I managed. The assassin was quick as a striking serpent, darting inside my guard to stab or slice and then dancing away before I could counter. The poison was a fire in my veins, racing toward my heart, slowing my movements. I had left some of the healing potions I had made on the table; I managed to dodge behind it and down a couple in the interval that bought me. The blessed coolness of magical healing came over me, quenching the poison and closing the bleeding wounds. That made all the difference, for my opponent had no way of repairing the damage he had taken. The blood loss had finally weakened him, and I was able to strike more effectively. Sensing that he was about to launch a suicidal attack that would end both our lives, I distracted him by throwing an empty bottle at his face with my left hand. Even the best-trained fighter will try to duck, and he did, only to meet my blade. With that, it was done and I had time to consider.

First, I needed to think about who had sent the Dark Brotherhood after me. They were from "back home" on the continent, which pointed to an Imperial client, rather than someone from Vvardenfell. Besides, it was my understanding that the Dunmer Great Houses would use the Morag Tong for this sort of thing. The fact that I had started working for Caius seemed to eliminate the Emperor as a suspect; I had initially thought the first attack was the unspoken "or else" to accompany, "work for the Blades...." The Camonna Tong wouldn't use an "outlander" organization to do their killing- in fact, they would probably do it themselves. No one else whose toes I had trod on had the kind of money or influence to use the Dark Brotherhood. It was a mystery, and one I would have to solve eventually. But one thing was immediately clear- I was going to have to find somewhere more remote to sleep. The mages had not helped me or even come to see what the commotion was about. Maybe the assassin had cast a Silence spell just before he attacked. Regardless, both attempts had taken place in the Mages Guild, so I wouldn't be sleeping there anymore.

The other thing I could do was convert the late assassin's gear into cash. My Caldera buyer wouldn't ask any questions, even if he was curious about where the armor came from. Better still, he paid full price. Between that and the 1000 drakes from Sugar-Lips, I could probably afford better alchemy apparatus. I still wouldn't be able to get Grandmaster quality, assuming I could even find it, but even Master level would improve my work significantly. If I starting making a few items for sale, I could even recover my investment. And that was my ultimate goal- to get enough money to be left alone- or to at least make it too troublesome for people to bother me.

After taking care of those chores, I should probably talk to Caius or Sugar-Lips about a job or two that would get me out of Balmora. In fact, it might be a good idea to follow Ajira's advice and look up Edwinna Elbert at the Ald-ruhn Mages Guild. I could also consider finishing the pilgrimages for the Temple. Even though I wasn't going to run anymore, neither was I going to paint a target on my back and just sit still. As sleep was no longer an option, I put my plan into effect immediately. With the dead assassin's gear in my pack, I had the guild guide transport me to Caldera. As I passed through the Caldera Mages Guild, Folms Mirel reminded me that there were still a number of propylon indices to find. In fact, he noted that he had just received word that a pilgrim had left the Falasmaryon index as an offering at the Temple shrine in Maar Gan. He added, "That shouldn't present a problem for an enterprising adventurer like yourself." I might have resented the implication that I was a thief, except for the fact that it was true.

Finally, I settled on updating my alchemy equipment and working on a better Chameleon spell with Estirdalin- preferably one that might last 30 seconds or more. Next, I went to see Sugar-Lips, who had some disturbing news. She mentioned that the Camonna Tong had been making threats recently, which was nothing new. What was new was that some of the threats were about "that Breton n'wah who had the nerve to steal from Camonna Tong territory in Hla Oad." Apparently I hadn't gotten away from Fatleg's as cleanly as I thought. And even though Phane Rielle had gotten the official bounty removed, Camonna didn't care about "official." It looked like it was time to settle this issue permanently. I already had the Dark Brotherhood dogging me; someone or something sending me weird dreams; and that didn’t even consider the Dunmer "Sleepers" who kept telling me to bow down to Dagoth Ur.

If I happened to do a favor for Captain Larrius Varro at the same time as I got Camonna Tong off my back, that was a price I was willing to pay. After all, I admired the Captain's show of intelligence and good taste in asking me to handle the problem for him. Before I dove in headfirst, it would be wise to think this thing through. There were at least five Camonna Tong in the Council Club. Regardless of my new skills and toughness, that was a lot to handle by myself. Then, too, there was the issue of the bounty. I really didn't want to have to pay blood price for all that Camonna scum, so I couldn't just walk up and start flailing around with my sword. If I played it carefully, I could cut a few of them out of the crowd one at a time and push them into attacking me first. It may be hard to imagine, but some people found me annoying. All I had to do was play on the Camonna's hatred of foreigners and what some perceived as my natural obnoxiousness. After that it would be, "I don't know why it happened, Officer. I was minding my own business, having a drink, and the guy attacked me. I had to defend myself."

With that in mind, I went to the Eight Plates and bought a bottle of shein. As I made my way to the Council Club, I uncorked the bottle and swished some of the liquor around in my mouth, then spit it out. Next, I splashed a liberal amount on my clothing and dumped about half of the rest onto the ground. With that, I staggered into the Council Club, singing at the top of my lungs. Just inside the door stood Thanelen Velas, the Camonna smith. And he was alone. Cutting off my song, I threw a friendly arm around the startled Dunmer and slurred,

"It's my birthday, pal. Here. Have a drink."

As I breathed, "Here" into his face, I waved the jug wildly, "accidently" splashing him with some of the foul stuff. Already annoyed by my mere presence, Velas called me a series of rude names and wrenched out from under my arm.

"Aw, here now, Elfie," I protested, "that shein makes a nice cover for your usual smell."

With that, I ostentatiously held my nose. "You'd think some of your Camonna friends would tell you," I added helpfully.

That pushed the smith beyond rational thought. With an inarticulate scream, he pulled a Dwemer war axe and swung wildly. It took all my control to stand still and let him draw first blood, but I wanted as good a case for self-defense as I could get. After he hacked my raised left arm, I pulled my sword and soon found myself in a fight for my life. Partly, it was that Velas was tough. Then there was that axe, which did serious damage on every hit. He even managed to knock me down a couple of times. As I looked up from that perspective, I noticed something- he was a Dunmer with red hair, worn in a row, using a Dwemer war axe. Where had I heard that description before? Again, my healing potions literally saved my life; Velas had me in trouble several times before I could finish him. That fight showed me that I was going to need a better sword if I was to survive. Tarhiel's Sparksword was fine for rats and hounds, but it just didn't pack enough punch against a good opponent. After relieving him of the axe and a few gold, I got out of there. It was the first time I had deliberately set out to kill someone, and I wasn't sure how I felt about it.

As much to soothe my conscience as anything else, I decided to talk with Ralen Hlaalo's maid to confirm my suspicion that Velas was the murderer she had seen. She immediately recognized the axe and my description and told me I should see Nileno Dorvayn at the Hlaalu Council Hall. I had never been in the Council Hall before, even though Balmora was Hlaalu territory. It hadn't seemed like a good idea to draw the attention of a Great House. When I explained my presence to Nileno, she was impressed. She said,

"Even though you are not a member of any House, you brought the murderer to justice."

She gave me 1000 drakes as a reward and promised to make sure House Hlaalu knew of my deed. She even offered to put in a good word for me if I wanted to join the House. The reward was nice, but I somehow felt as though it were tainted. No matter how I tried to convince myself that the Camonna Tong was a threat, that it was them or me, I didn't like the way I had goaded Velas into the fight. Always before, I had been attacked directly; this time, I started it. Worst of all, I knew it wasn't over. There were four more Camonna Tong members left. Even if I managed to defeat them all, I didn't think I would feel like a winner. And I wasn't sure there was enough water in all Tamriel to make me feel clean again.

[treydog]

Andas explained that he couldn't hire me- officially. But he could tell me everything he knew about the murders and the one eye-witness account. And if I managed to solve the killings, he could give me a reward for my "volunteer" effort. I agreed to those terms and settled in to pay close attention to whatever he could tell me. First, he stated that he believed the killer was operating by stealth rather than brute force. His grasp of the situation impressed me; he was more than just another guard. Five of the victims had been foreigners, which seemed to point to someone with a grudge against "outlanders." Even the two dead Ordinators didn't rule that out- they were killed in the Hlaalu Compound shortly after finding the body of the most recent civilian victim. Three of the others had been killed in the Foreign Quarter. There was only one witness, a man who had reported being "threatened by a Dunmer woman with a dagger, wearing netch armor and a skirt." That intended victim had teleported out- he was in the Hlaalu Compound when the attack took place. The idea that a woman might be the killer didn't surprise me- such an attacker would be better able to get close to the victims without raising suspicion. I decided to start my search in the Foreign Quarter; that was the most likely hunting ground for someone stalking outlanders. Also, the Hlaalu Compound was close by, so it seemed probable that the killer was somewhere in or around the two cantons. First, though, I wanted to find Mehra Milo and ask her about cults.

Upon entering the library, I recognized Mehra immediately. She had, as Caius had said, "copper hair and copper eyes." I approached her and she asked me how she could assist me. When I mentioned Caius, she paled and said,

"I can't talk here. Follow me to the back of the library."

Now that she mentioned it, there were a number of Ordinators around, and they didn't seem to be reading books. When we reached the relative privacy of the back room, Mehra told me what she knew of the Nerevarine cult. Her information matched Huleeya's- although the Temple worshipped Nerevar as a saint and hero, they ruthlessly suppressed any talk of his reincarnation. A Temple faction known as the Dissident Priests disputed the orthodox teachings and had gone into hiding. A banned book called The Progress of Truth would provide more information. Although the library had a copy, it would be better if I obtained one from a bookseller. Finally, she asked me to warn Caius that she was being watched by the Ordinators. Some of the Dissident Priests had been her friends before they went into exile. If the worst happened and she was taken, Mehra would leave a message with the code word "amaya."

Although I had finished talking to Caius' informants, I wasn't ready to run back to Balmora just yet. For one thing, I had promised Braryn that I would deliver his message to Trebonius. More important was the fact that I had promised to look into the murders. Again, this was a case of having given my word; also, it was self-preservation. Someone was killing foreigners in Vivec- I was a foreigner in Vivec- so I was a potential target. As the Mage Guild was in the plaza atop the Foreign Quarter, it would be a simple matter to work my way down through the levels, asking people if they had seen anyone fitting the description of the suspected murderer. If I had no success in the Foreign Quarter, I would move over to Hlaalu and do the same.
Trebonius was pleased to accept the book and the apology; he seemed almost lucid when he harrumphed something about, "...Tarer learning his lesson." He gave me a special Potion of Cure for the afflicted officer and an Exclusive Potion of Rising Force for myself. Then I got away before the old fellow could think of some useless errand for me to run. The borrowed book reminded me- I was supposed to find a copy of The Progress of Truth. I decided to stop in at Jobasha's while searching for the murderer.

That side-trip was one of the hardest I had undertaken; getting in was easy, getting out took every bit of my willpower. Besides The Progress of Truth, Jobasha had multiple volumes of A Dance in Fire, The Real Barenziah, and so many other titles that my eyes crossed. I had to keep reminding myself that I was on a mission- I couldn't weigh myself down with books. I barely escaped with The Progress of Truth, and that only after I promised myself that I would come back soon.

The simple errands were done; now I had to begin the harder task of tracking down a killer. Some might wonder at my seemingly ready acceptance of a "bounty hunter" job; hadn't I always said I didn't want to be a sword-for-hire? But this case was different- whoever was doing this would not stop until they were caught. Maybe the victims weren't innocent- but they were being killed for just one reason- they were "outlanders." That was the same so-called "logic" that justified the enslavement of the Khajiit and Argonians- they weren't really "people." I didn't love the Empire, but I was still one of her citizens and I would defend my right to go where I willed without fear of violence. If the killer got away with it, no “foreigner� would be safe anywhere in Vvardenfell- and that included me. And, simpler still, I had agreed to do the job. My honor may have been tarnished, but it was my own- I would keep my word at any cost. So it was that I found myself asking everyone I met if they had seen "a Dunmer woman with a dagger, wearing netch leather and a skirt."

The first few people I encountered didn't recognize the description, but I finally found a fellow in the lower waistworks who had heard about a Dunmer woman down in the underworks. That was an odd place for someone to go if they didn't work there- that was what had made the witness notice her. It certainly seemed an appropriate place for a crazed killer to be hiding out- she could quickly travel the length and breadth of the canton and pop out of a trapdoor to attack someone. Now that my theory seemed to be confirmed, I made up my mind to be careful- this was no time for misplaced chivalry. If she was down there, I couldn't afford to give her a chance. The two Ordinators had made that mistake and they were dead. I didn't much like the idea of being a killer, but I liked the idea of being a corpse even less.

The Foreign Quarter underworks were similar to St. Olms- canals, tunnels, rats, and debris. I reminded myself that, although the shadows were my friends, they could conceal my enemy just as well. And as proof of that idea, I found her in the second canal area I searched, or rather, she found me. I had just finished off a rat with my bow when I heard the sound of running feet coming up behind me. I turned to see, you guessed it- "a Dunmer woman with a dagger, wearing netch leather and a skirt." What the witnesses hadn't mentioned were her eyes- there was nothing sane about them. Almost as unnerving was the silence with which she attacked- most of the people who had tried to kill me had uttered some sort of curse or grunt- she just ran at me with the dagger raised high. I managed to get a couple of arrows into her, but she didn't slow down at all. And then it was blade to blade. Again, she was eerily silent, except for the rasp of her breathing. I did my best to use my favorite "thrust and retreat" method to keep her shorter weapon away from me. It mostly worked- the trouble was, her blade was enchanted to drain my energy- if she hit me a few more times, I would fall unconscious and that would be the end.

Now I understood how the others had died- the enchantment knocked them out and then it was a simple matter to cut their throats. The difference was that I was prepared. I had my sword out and was carrying several Restore Fatigue potions that I had made. Ultimately, the greater reach of my sword prevailed and she fell to the canalside. Now I had a chance to get a better look and didn't like anything I saw. This was certainly the killer- I didn't believe that there were two women matching the description running around down here. And she had saved me the dilemma of whether to shoot first- her clear intention had been to kill me. There was still the mystery of why, and another mystery, as well. Among her belongings were a bronze key and a hunk of something I really didn't want to touch. From what I could tell, it might once have been human flesh, but it was strangely changed and deformed. What purpose it served I truly did not want to know. There was something dangerous down there in the tunnels and canals below Vivec, and it wasn't rats. Every time I went down into the depths below one of the cantons, I got an itch between my shoulder blades.

I decided that, before too many more weeks passed, I would investigate every inch of the underworks in every canton. The idea scared me, but I was even more afraid of leaving whatever was down here untended, waiting to boil over at any moment. There was something evil down here, something that had so twisted this woman that she attacked without reason. It had finally gotten through to me that I couldn't solve my problems by running away. Some dangers simply had to be met head-on. And some wounds had to be cauterized with fire if they were to heal.