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> Trey in Mournhold, Chapter 6
treydog
post May 31 2006, 02:18 AM
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From: The Smoky Mountains



Although I was summoned to see Queen Barenziah, I did not immediately go to her chambers. Instead, I made some preparations. The request for my presence was not formal, after all, and did not specify a day or time. Therefore, after securing my old room at the Winged Guar, I availed myself of a bath and also carefully cleaned my clothing and gear. Those who have followed my story this far may be surprised that I took such care over a meeting with a member of the nobility, a class which I despised. And there may have been some hypocrisy in my actions, considering my generally low opinion of so-called royalty. But it is in that phrase that the reason for my attitude toward Barenziah may be found. In my experience, most nobles were anything but noble. They were greedy, stupid, arrogant, and self-absorbed- and those were their good points. But Barenziah had been a queen in truth, not just as a title. She had been instrumental in exposing and thwarting the plot of Jagar Tharn, who had impersonated Emperor Uriel Septim VII. More than that, she had always been concerned for the welfare of the common people and had done much to ease their suffering. There were additional rumors about her adventurous youth, but confirmation was hard to come by. No one, however, questioned the fact that she was highly skilled in the art of magic and more than able to navigate the dangerous world of court intrigue with grace and wit. She had lived for over 500 years, many of them during a time that all the royal families of Tamriel were at grave risk. All of that being true, I would grant her the respect that her years and her actions had earned.

I also engaged in an additional bit of preparation- a search for knowledge. My reasoning was simple: if I was to meet this great lady, I would need all the information I could find. Therefore, once I had seen to my appearance, I made my way to the bookseller in the Great Bazaar. Sanaso Sarothran happily sold me the full set of the Biography of Barenziah, which was the version of the queen’s story authorized by the Tribunal Temple. When I inquired after The Real Barenziah, she told me that no copies of that work were available in Mournhold and that it was more than her life was worth to even own those books, let alone sell them. The Temple was quite serious about suppressing that particular work, and it was one of the few things about which they and King Helseth were in agreement. While the authorized biography made for interesting reading, it had clearly been heavily edited and probably bore only a passing resemblance to reality. Perhaps if I had sought more diligently for the volumes of The Real Barenziah, things would have turned out differently. But then again, perhaps not. There are some events that must happen, and all the preparation and knowledge in the world cannot change them. As I was about to discover, Barenziah was much more than a character in a story, or a queen, or a noble. She was a force of nature. And now, it was time to meet her. I returned to the Palace and approached the door to the queen’s chambers. Upon my knock, a pleasant voice bade me enter.

When I said that Barenziah was a “force of nature,” I suppose that, for many, the phrase conjures the image of a great storm or an avalanche. But there is another force, a force that works quietly to impose major changes on the world. Think of the slow, constant effect of water on stone. Consider how the water shapes the stone over time. Such was the effect of the former queen of Mournhold. Like all elves, she was long-lived. And she was therefore able to wait patiently, to work her will slowly, achieving results after decades of subtle effort. But I only realized that long after our first meeting. At the time, I was too caught up in her sheer presence to recognize her depth. In appearance, she was typical of the Dunmeri race, with gray skin and red eyes. Her features were pleasant, and the few lines of her face appeared to be those of someone who smiled and laughed often. As befit her station, she was richly dressed and her white hair was elaborately dressed and curled. I thought it interesting that she made no attempt to disguise her great age, but rather displayed its signs prominently. Perhaps only we short-lived humans turn our vanity toward seeking the appearance of perpetual youth, while the eternal elves understand that age and wisdom are more deserving of veneration. And there was wisdom in her eyes, of that there can be no doubt. Again and again, in my memories of Barenziah, I come back to her eyes. She was reputed to be skillful in magic; perhaps she cast a spell upon me in that first moment of meeting. If so, it was of a sort that I have never encountered in all the long years since that day, for, if spell it was, it influences me still. Along with wisdom, her eyes seemed to hold a sense of fun, as if there was still an elven child lurking within and peering out at the clumsy Breton and dancing with laughter. But the laughter was not directed at me, at least not in any mean-spirited way. Instead, it was an invitation to share in the great adventure that was life. Maybe none of those impressions were real; maybe she did ensorcel me. And maybe she made me think of my own magical mother, a woman who I never knew, and yet carried with me always.

I must have spent enough time staring for it to seem rude, for Barenziah’s attendant, a no-nonsense Redguard, finally said,

“Is that how you were taught to greet the Queen? I vow that I could teach you some manners and it is a lesson you’d not forget.”

The queen waved a calming hand and said,

“Peace, Alusannah. He is merely a young man who is not used to court ways and court manners. As well to berate a fish for being uncomfortable upon the land or a bird for disliking the burrow of a badger. We are each of us fit for our own element and more at home therein. So, peace.”

The gracious speech, delivered in an amused tone, brought me back to myself and I bowed low, muttering,

“I beg your pardon, great lady. How may I be of service?”

Overwhelmed by her presence though I was, I would kneel before no one, not even the Emperor himself. In that, at least, I was still my own man. Still smiling, Barenziah gestured me to a chair, where I perched uncomfortably. After studying me closely for a time, she again spoke.

“Greetings, Trey. I’ve wanted to speak with you. I understand that you’ve performed some tasks for Tienius and you’ve done well. I believe that there are other matters you should investigate.”

I should have known by then that even a careful question could be dangerous, but my curiosity over what the queen might want with me overcame my natural caution, so I asked,

”What ‘other matters’ do you think need investigation?”

“Mournhold is a town of two minds. On the one hand, there is the monarchy, led by Helseth, and on the other there is the Temple, and the goddess Almalexia. It is hard to know whom you may trust. While there has been no open hostility between the two, there are always undercurrents that bear watching. I would like you to make yourself known to the Temple. See what you can learn. Speak to Fedris Hler. He is a powerful man in the Temple, a confidant of Almalexia. See if you can get to know him a bit.”

Because the queen had been polite, I responded in kind, rather than stating my feelings about Fedris Hler more bluntly.

“My lady, I have met Fedris Hler and I do not believe he likes me very much.”

That news did not seem to concern Barenziah particularly, as she responded,

“There is more to Hler than one would think. He hides a brilliant mind behind that gruff exterior. It is fairly widely known that he is the leader of the Hands of Almalexia. He will not respond to a charming pair of blue eyes,” she paused to smile at me again, “but he is impressed by plain-speaking. It would be a great service to me if you could discover what concerns occupy Fedris Hler and the goddess.”

I had hoped to avoid further contact with the Temple, but that plan seemed destined to fail. It was clear that the path to Helseth was guarded by his mother. Her words in his ear would determine whether he ever spoke to me or not. Those thoughts reminded me of something else she had mentioned, and I inquired:

“Earlier, you spoke of the difficulty of knowing who to trust. I would value your views on that matter.”

Her expression grew more serious as she pondered my question. At last, she spoke slowly,

“A difficult question, especially in the company of gods and kings. I am always here to answer your questions. My time in the political arena is done, and I will not miss it. I do, however, like to know what is happening to my son, and to his monarchy. I stay interested. You should also take the time to speak with Plitinius Mero, a dear friend of mine. He is knowledgeable on a great many subjects, and is always interesting to speak with. Apart we two, it is up to you to decide who your friends are.”

I recognized that last as a dismissal, couched in polite terms though it was. Barenziah had given me much to think on. Of great interest to me was the fact that she had plainly stated that she was someone who I could trust. Most of the time, such a vow is a warning that you should check your pockets. But, in this case, I had the feeling that she was speaking the simple truth.


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The dreams down here aren't broken, nah, they're walkin' with a limp...

The best-dressed newt in Mournhold.
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Kiln
post May 31 2006, 03:06 AM
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From: Balmora, Eight Plates



Great start to chapter 6 Trey, I liked the way that you described the character's thoughts about Berenziah and his meeting with her even though he doesn't generally like people that call themselves "noble".

I thought that the ability to meet her in the game was awesome, I'd read books about her in the vanilla MW and I thought it was amazing when I met her. Like meeting with a legend. You portrayed the meeting very well in my opinion and I liked that he wouldn't kneel to anyone...shows self confidence.

This part is as good as ever so please continue soon. I'll be waiting. goodjob.gif


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He who fights with monsters should be careful lest he thereby become a monster. And if thou gaze long into an abyss, the abyss will also gaze into thee. - Friedrich Nietzsche
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canis216
post May 31 2006, 03:24 AM
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Excellent... a new chapter! Marvelous as ever!


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Read about Always-He-Lingers-in-the-Sun, a Blades assassin, in Killing in the Emperor's Name and The Dark Operation. And elsewhere.
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treydog
post Jun 5 2006, 01:02 AM
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The queen had described Mournhold as a city of two minds- and that was also an apt description of my condition as I left her chambers. Perhaps it might be better to say that I felt like a moth caught between two flames. Or, still more in appropriate to my career, like a thief caught between light and darkness. My desire for revenge was a fire that drew me strongly, threatening to burn away my caution, my wisdom, my very life. Meanwhile, my inborn sense for danger warned me that it was time to slip away from the flames, to return to the welcoming shadows and hide myself from the games played by the nobility. To hide would be the sane course, the safe path. How wonderful it would feel to again be obscure and anonymous! But even as those imaginings called to me, vengeance whispered its own seductive words, cloaking them in the guise of an apparent logic that defeated rationality. Vengeance questioned, quite logically, if anonymity were even possible any longer. My deeds had made me known to the powers of Mournhold, to the Temple and the Palace. Would it even be possible to walk away without consequence or query? And vengeance supplied its own answer, vowing that the only safe choice was to see it through to the end, whatever that end might be.

The fact that as astute a political observer as Lady Barenziah was concerned about the Temple was enough to give a novice like me nightmares. When I had previously sensed some sort of “wrongness” in the Temple of Almalexia, I had put it down to my usual indigestion whenever I was faced with wealth and power. And Tienius’ interest in the Temple’s attitude toward his king was logical- Helseth would have a difficult time trying to rule a divided province, especially if the Temple was in open opposition to him. But Barenziah was not the only one who had doubts about the Temple- I reminded myself that Galsa Andrano, the Temple healer, had also been concerned by Almalexia’s demeanor of late. Again I thought to myself that, despite the High Ordinators’ oft-repeated chant of “Mournhold, City of Light, City of Magic,” this city was instead a place of darkness- a darkness that stained the very stones of the streets and the souls of the residents. Even after the cleansing of the Shrine of the Dead, I had still felt that some malign power loomed over the city. What that power might be, I did not know. And even my hatred of Helseth did not blind me to the fact that he was not the source of this foulness. Whatever that malevolent presence was, it was far older and far more powerful than any petty king.

With those cheerful thoughts weighing upon me, I entered the Temple Reception Area and approached Fedris Hler. He treated me with his usual haughty aloofness, which I withstood manfully. When I asked him of any service I might provide, he looked me over carefully, then slowly shook his head, saying,

“Hmmm...I have nothing for you at this time. Speak with Gavas Drin, the Lord Archcanon. He was in consultation with the Lady Almalexia this very morning. Perhaps he has something for you.”

The Archcanon had apparently gotten over his amazement at my previous success- he waved me away irritably with the words,

“Unfortunately, I know of nothing you may do for the Lady now. Speak with Fedris Hler. He usually has errands that must be completed by the lowly. Don't let him tell you he has nothing to be done. I'm sure there's something.”

I firmly reminded myself that, no matter how satisfying, it would be neither wise nor healthy to slap the Archcanon, particularly not inside his own Temple. Muttering a barely civil, “You are too kind,” I marched back to Fedris Hler. Somehow, it seemed to me that Drin’s words had contained the quality of a person urging someone else into a course of folly, as if he were saying,

“Go ahead. Keep poking the bear with that sharp stick. I’m sure he will pay attention to you eventually.”

The last thing I wanted in the world was for Fedris Hler to pay attention to me- if I had been given a choice, he would not even be aware of my existence. There was always something in his cool appraisal that made me feel like a prime ox standing in front of a butcher.

Just because I was annoyed did not mean I had to be foolish- I was careful to phrase my renewed request for work as a message from the Archcanon. Whatever game the two of them were playing, I would act the part of a good little pawn- until I could step smartly off the board. The truth was, I rather hoped that Hler would send me away and that I could tell Barenziah that the Chief Steward was not engaged in any activity that I could discern. And, as usual, my hopes were not to be. When I again presented myself to him, the peculiar light in Fedris Hler’s eyes made me more queasy than usual. He twitched his lips in what might have been a smile and slowly said,

“I spoke with the Lady earlier today, and there may be something that one of your skill will be able to help with. The Lady Almalexia would like you to retrieve a powerful artifact -- Barilzar's Mazed Band. All I know about the artifact is that the goddess wants it returned. You'll find it in the ruins beneath the Temple. Search to the northwest in the sewers. There was a passageway in the Abandoned Crypt that had been blocked off by a cave-in, but Almalexia had the area cleared. As for the item itself, I don't really see why you'd need to know any more about it. If you must inquire, perhaps Gavas Drin can give you more details.”

The fact that Hler had admitted that he, too, had talked with Almalexia only after sending me on a useless errand was not lost on me. If she had ordered her two most powerful minions to see to this task, it was obviously something she wanted badly. And that was enough to send me back to the Archcanon’s office for the second time. Regardless of the inconvenience, I would gather all the information I could before blindly going on another “simple” mission for the Temple. Drin looked a bit startled at my inquiry regarding the artifact, but then nodded his head decisively, as if reaching a conclusion. Regarding the missing object, he said,

“Yes...the Mazed Band. Barilzar himself was a powerful mage...quite powerful, in fact. He created the band sometime in the middle of the Second Era, and soon after disappeared. The purpose of the artifact is unknown to me, Trey. All I know is that the Lady wants it. I can only assume it will allow her to better minister to her people, though I find that hard to imagine.”

While it struck me as odd that Almalexia had not told the head of her order what she planned to do with the ring, I kept my surprise to myself. One advantage of dealing with someone like Gavas Drin was that his sense of his own importance usually caused him to blab everything he knew. If he admitted to not knowing the goddess’ plans, he was almost certainly speaking the truth. Congratulating myself on having accomplished the task for Barenziah without endangering myself, I made my way back to the Palace, humming happily. Whatever Drin and Hler might believe, I had not actually agreed to retrieve the artifact.

My complacency suffered a major blow when I reported to the queen. A worried frown creased her normally clear features and she spoke in a concerned tone,

“I have heard of this thing, Trey, but I know very little about it. I've heard whispers about it, but few details. Some say it is cursed...some say it is not. I can't understand why the goddess would want such a thing. If you want to know more, I would suggest speaking with Torasa Aram at the Museum of Artifacts. She has great knowledge of these things. You might also speak to Plitinius Mero- his research has uncovered a great deal of information about Mournhold in the Second Era. Take care...some things are best left buried.”

She paused for a few moments and then added,

“Still, I think you will have to go ahead. We will just have to see what Almalexia does with the Band.”

My conversation with Plitinius Mero regarding the Mazed Band did nothing to raise my spirits- rather the opposite, in fact. When I mentioned the artifact, he paled and looked around wildly before hissing,

“You should not even speak of that cursed object! I'm sorry, friend Trey...I did not mean to snap at you. I have heard many tales of that ring, and the evil Barilzar who created it. It was to be a means of teleportation for the wizard, but it was much worse than that. That ring was said to open gates to hellish planes, releasing creatures best left in nightmare. I've heard the ring was stripped of its power, and that only a god could use it now and not be destroyed. The thought chills my bones.”

A word of advice to anyone who might have doubts- when people you do not trust offer you a job with only the vaguest details, and when people you respect warn you against it- walk away. Better still- RUN away.


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The dreams down here aren't broken, nah, they're walkin' with a limp...

The best-dressed newt in Mournhold.
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canis216
post Jun 6 2006, 01:48 AM
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Wow... outstanding post. I'm awed, really.


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Read about Always-He-Lingers-in-the-Sun, a Blades assassin, in Killing in the Emperor's Name and The Dark Operation. And elsewhere.
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minque
post Jun 6 2006, 02:53 PM
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Truly wonderful.....the start of this chapter promises further excellent reading. It´s like a history-book, and it´s all new to me, I haven´t played Tribunal because of my fear for Mournhold. The description of Barenziah was vivid, I could easily picture her in my head.

This story really is a TES-classic.....


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Chomh fada agus a bhionn daoine ah creiduint in aif�iseach, leanfaidh said na n-aingniomhi a choireamh (Voltaire)

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mplantinga
post Jun 7 2006, 06:43 PM
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I enjoyed the way you've led Trey into the quest for the Mazed Band. The continued depth of intrigue surrounding Trey's adventures in Mournhold remains one of the best features of this story.
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jack cloudy
post Jun 8 2006, 08:37 PM
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Ah, I like Trey. He thinks about every action and consequence. That's what makes him so strong and what makes this story so intriguing.


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Fabulous hairneedle attack! I'm gonna be bald before I hit twenty.
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treydog
post Jun 11 2006, 05:54 PM
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From: The Smoky Mountains



One of the few useful traits that I developed early was my tendency to question authority. The only problem with that tendency was that, at the time I was in Mournhold, it was not fully evolved. That is to say, I was perfectly able to question why it was that some king or queen or Temple officer should have power over me. An accident of birth seemed to me a rather shaky basis for running a society. What I did not question sufficiently were the intentions of those in power. I disliked them; I distrusted them; but, ultimately, I did not understand them. So it was with the ring of Barilzar. Almalexia wanted this artifact very badly- for what reason, no one had said. Barenziah, far wiser than I, had asked that fundamental question, but I was too busy feeling ill-used to understand how important it was. Torasa Aram, the head of the Museum of Artifacts, provided another clue, which I again missed. When I asked the Dunmeri woman for information on the ring, she did not react with the revulsion that others had, but instead looked intrigued. Assuming the manner of one lecturing a class, she stated,

“The Mazed Band may actually be no more than a legend, though there is no doubt of Barilzar's existence, or his power. It has been said that the Mazed Band was able to open rifts in time and space...that it could even open the gates of Oblivion. It's been said that it would take one of divine birth to wield the ring. Some speculate that that was how Barilzar himself met his end. Of course, this is all conjecture. No one really knows what happened to the man or the Band. All of that was lost centuries ago.”

Although I had not asked all of the questions I should have, I had noticed one glaring omission in the discussion of this “Mazed Band” - to wit, who (or what) currently possessed the blasted thing. Rumors of a powerful magical artifact act like a lodestone on adventurers, thieves, and …others. It was those others I worried about- because they were not necessarily anything one might call remotely human. If Barilzar’s ring had truly been able to open the sort of “rift” Torasa Aram described, there was no guarantee as to what might have been waiting on the other side. Worse still, there was no guarantee that this hypothetical creature had gone back from whence it came. And if the ring was the focus of some sort of gate, any dislocated beings would likely stay close by. Someone- or something- would try very hard to unlock the secret of using the ring. And that entity would not appreciate my efforts to take it away.

When I reached the too-familiar passages beneath the Temple, it was almost if I had never left. It was still damp, gloomy, and fetid- and the ghosts and skeletons still tried to kill me. Morrowind, with its bandits, carnivorous wildlife, and ash storms was starting to look better all the time. I found the area Fedris Hler had described without much difficulty- the signs of recent efforts at earth-moving and shoring were obvious. It was somewhat surprising to note that some fearful or superstitious sort had marked a sign for “avert evil” on the doorway that had been uncovered. I would have thought that workers for the Temple would have more faith in their goddess. Before I describe what I found on the other side of that door, let me take a moment to talk about rhetoric. Those who were classically trained in the uses and meanings of words had a distinct advantage over those who were not. Fedris Hler had told me specifically that Almalexia had “…had the area cleared” when discussing the Abandoned Crypt. Although I did not know it, his words had a very specific meaning, quite different from what I assumed. Thus it was that I was quite surprised when the first lich appeared and began hurling spells at me. As I dodged and cursed and tried to remember how to conjure a magical bow, I thought back over Fedris Hler’s actual words. He had told me that the passage to the Abandoned Crypt had been cleared- and he had been referring to the debris from the cave-in. In other words, no one had even entered the crypt itself, let alone “cleared” it. That privilege was all mine. I made a mental note to thank the Temple Steward for the honor- assuming I survived it.

Having to deal with a few giant rats was almost a relief- even though they were likely to carry diseases, at least they did not cast spells. The liches that kept appearing around every bend did. My fear and anger were at such a high pitch that I did not even notice that I seemed to be dispatching the liches with relative ease- I had become a far more formidable fighter than I realized. And that fact was about to become vitally important. As I passed between a pair of columns carved in the style of the ancient, lost city that had been buried, I began to see the first evidence that this area had indeed been a crypt (besides the undead wizards, that is). Massive sarcophagi were still largely buried by rubble, but the carvings were again distinct. The Aldmeris was so ornate and ancient that I could not read it- and that probably was just as well. Beyond the burial chamber, the passage ended. As soon as I came into sight, a skeletal figure stepped forward and spoke in a suitably ominous voice.

“You have no place here, child of living flesh. The Mazed Band must not be allowed to leave this tomb. The Band should never have existed at all. That was my folly, and this is my curse. For all eternity, I am doomed to walk in this half life, to keep my creation from destroying the hearts and minds of mortals. Those who would challenge my fate must pay with their lives.”

I could forgive Hler for failing to mention the rats- it was a tomb, after all. And I was even willing to admit that being surprised by the presence of the half-dozen liches was mostly my own fault. However, I really thought it was a bit much that no one had bothered to tell me that Barilzar himself was still- well, not exactly alive- but at least animate.


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The dreams down here aren't broken, nah, they're walkin' with a limp...

The best-dressed newt in Mournhold.
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jack cloudy
post Jun 11 2006, 07:54 PM
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Ah, another good one. Very good. I liked the play with words about what was cleared and what was not.

I just wonder, why didn't Barilzar just destroy it? Nah, that would ruin the fun of having to fight him to claim the Mazed Band or whatever it is.


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minque
post Jun 12 2006, 11:43 PM
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QUOTE
However, I really thought it was a bit much that no one had bothered to tell me that Barilzar himself was still- well, not exactly alive- but at least animate.

A hilarious ending of a truly great addition, written with that Trey-ish sense of humour that I find so utterly appealing...

Do we sense a kind of resent to Nournhold in Trey´s mind now? I think we do! Naturally that cursed city is not Trey´s cup-of-tea!

I am eagerly waiting to see how Trey will handle the animated Barilzar!!! biggrin.gif


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Chomh fada agus a bhionn daoine ah creiduint in aif�iseach, leanfaidh said na n-aingniomhi a choireamh (Voltaire)

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mplantinga
post Jun 14 2006, 06:00 PM
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QUOTE
My fear and anger were at such a high pitch that I did not even notice that I seemed to be dispatching the liches with relative ease- I had become a far more formidable fighter than I realized.


A typical Trey understatement. Once again Trey's down-to-earth nature reminds of why I like him.
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treydog
post Jun 16 2006, 12:39 AM
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Short one today- I promise to add more shortly.

The figure that approached me was akin to the liches I had battled earlier, and yet different. Although he was wrapped in tattered black robes, Barilzar seemed more …substantial than his minions. My reluctant but necessary study of the various forms of undead came to the fore and I realized that the former wizard had become what was known as a “lich lord.” That knowledge did nothing to cheer me- it wasn’t as if I was collecting stamps for my “Monster-Spotter’s Guide.” Simply put, a lich lord was a more ancient, powerful, and malevolent undead spirit of a wizard. Barilzar immediately sought to demonstrate his power by casting a curse at me. As I felt the eldritch tingle of the hostile magic, I recognized that the spell was designed to do two things: to blind me and also to increase the effects of gravity upon me to the point that I could not move. My innate resistance to magicka prevented the first effect from succeeding, but not the second. Although I could see, I was rooted to the place where I stood until the spell dissipated. That was an acceptable outcome- I had no desire to move any closer to the skeletal wizard at the end of the tunnel. Instead, I conjured my magical bow and began using up my supply of enchanted arrows at a rapid rate. It became apparent that Barilzar himself was also resistant to some magic- nevertheless, the barbed points still seemed to damage his- substance, for lack of a better word.

True to his wizardly nature, the revenant attacked with spells, some few of which damaged my health considerably. His actions seemed slow to me, however, though I could not say whether that was due to his long period of unquiet slumber or something else. Whatever the reason, the pauses between his blasts of magicka had two effects- they allowed me time to use restorative potions and for the effects of the burden spell to weaken. Although I was capable of moving from my place, I gave no indication, but kept up a steady rain of arrows. I could tell that my missiles were effective, for even though he did not bleed, Barilzar flinched at every impact. At last, either because he had exhausted his magicka or because the arrows had goaded him beyond bearing, the lich lord drew a massive Daedric claymore and charged me. The physical attack took me by surprise- most wizards would never have possessed such a weapon, let alone learned how to wield it. Through great luck, his first swing was largely deflected by my magical bow, but I was still thrown against the wall of the cavern by its force. As I braced myself for the fatal blow, I realized that the burden spell had completely dissipated- I could move normally again. Quicker than the thought came to me, I sprang up and to the side, avoiding a stroke that would have cut me in two. As Barilzar struggled to raise the blade for another attack, I dispelled my magical bow and drew my own sword. The weight of his claymore was such that I was able to flick three or four thrusts into his torso before he had the weapon back into attack position. That is the main drawback of a claymore- while its great weight allows one to deliver thunderous blows, the recovery time is also substantial. Added to that was the fact that Barilzar still seemed somehow slow to me, as if he were moving underwater. As he turned ponderously and swung at me again, I was easily able to dodge to the side and send another flurry of thrusts to the place where his heart should have been. Whatever I struck was vital, for the lich lord fell to his knees and then, with a wail, to his face. Whatever had bound his substance together disappeared and all that was left was a pile of dust, the claymore, and a ring.


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The dreams down here aren't broken, nah, they're walkin' with a limp...

The best-dressed newt in Mournhold.
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Kiln
post Jun 16 2006, 03:52 AM
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Well described fight with Bralizar there man, I particularly liked Trey's descriptions and thoughts about the lich at first glance. Keep up the good work man and add more soon. biggrin.gif


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He who fights with monsters should be careful lest he thereby become a monster. And if thou gaze long into an abyss, the abyss will also gaze into thee. - Friedrich Nietzsche
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mplantinga
post Jun 16 2006, 04:08 PM
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I agree with Kiln: that was an excellent fight. I am curious though - will we learn more about why Barilzar seemed to be so slow?
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treydog
post Jun 16 2006, 04:31 PM
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QUOTE(mplantinga @ Jun 16 2006, 03:08 PM)
I agree with Kiln: that was an excellent fight. I am curious though - will we learn more about why Barilzar seemed to be so slow?
*



Urf-- had not meant to create a mystery here- it was actually more a transference of my own reaction. I really expected a more difficult fight, was ready to die a few times before I "got it right." But Barilzar only managed the one swing with the claymore before Trey finished him.... thus Trey's speculations/pondering about the lich lord's dormancy or lack of muscle or the weight of the sword.


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The dreams down here aren't broken, nah, they're walkin' with a limp...

The best-dressed newt in Mournhold.
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mplantinga
post Jun 16 2006, 05:15 PM
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I know that you don't usually comment on comments, so thanks for making an exception here. It has been a long time since I've fought Barilzar myself, so I don't really remember how he seemed to me. Perhaps it was a good thing for Trey that the fight was easier than he anticipated; the continued existence of Barilzar was enough of a shock for one day.
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jack cloudy
post Jun 16 2006, 08:49 PM
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The fight was definitely interesting. I just hope that Trey wondered about the slowness of Barilzar after the fight. Pondering questions during a fight usually distracts you.


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treydog
post Jun 16 2006, 11:13 PM
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The ring appeared to be nothing more than an expensive piece of jewelry- elaborately carved, to be sure, but in no wise special. It had a deep red stone of a sort I had never before encountered, but even with my natural sensitivity, I could detect no hint of magic. If this was indeed the Mazed Band, perhaps it could no longer operate now that its creator was dead. Perhaps the dangers and the power had all come from Barilzar himself, and the ring was nothing but a ring. Still, that did not reconcile with the words of the lich lord himself, nor did it explain why Almalexia wanted the Band so badly. Unraveling this mystery would require wiser heads than mine and I decided to seek counsel from people I respected before turning the enigmatic artifact over to the Temple.

My quest for advice was doomed to failure- neither Barenziah nor Plitinius Mero showed any inclination to discuss the matter with me. In fact, Plitinius was frankly doubtful that I was even in possession of the Mazed Band. After I had poured out my story and shown him the ring, the writer looked at me with some amusement and said,

“Let me be sure that I understand clearly. You say you actually met Barilzar himself and that he was a lich lord? And this was after you had defeated another six- or was it seven- liches? And you retrieved this nondescript ring from Barilzar’s corpse, a ring which you believe to be the Mazed Band? And now the goddess Almalexia herself wishes to see the ring. And you want my advice?”

With a chuckle, Mero concluded,

“Well, my boy, I would say you should polish up your armor and have a nice chat with the goddess. Please, don’t let me detain you.”

Now that I am older, I can understand how fantastic my story must have seemed and that a number of factors combined to prevent me from being believed. First, there was the legendary nature of the Mazed Band, contrasted with the reality of the ring I possessed, which appeared to be nothing special. Then there was my own relative youth and my apparently easy victor over so feared an opponent as Barilzar. It is easy to be philosophical now, but at the time, I was terribly frustrated and even a bit hurt at being so casually dismissed. I could not escape the feeling that I was being told by condescending elders,

“That’s nice, dear. Now run along and play.”

Given the disinterest of the people I trusted, I had no choice but to return to those who I did not. Nothing was left but to speak to Fedris Hler.

When I recounted my experiences to the Temple Steward, his reaction surprised me. I was prepared for sneering contempt or even outright disbelief, but Hler’s response was something quite different. As I finished, his normally hooded eyes opened wide in surprise and possibly…fear? He waved away the ring and said,

“You got the Mazed Band? Interesting.... I won't be the one to take it. Speak with the priest, Drin. He'll know what should be done.”

The Archcanon’s reaction and orders surprised me even more than those of the Temple Steward. He looked at the ring with interest and then said,

“You've been able to retrieve the Mazed Band? Amazing...Almalexia will want to hear about this immediately. You are to speak with her directly. I hope you realize what an honor you're receiving, Trey.”

I stammered, “Speak directly? To Almalexia? Me?” The last word was, I am ashamed to admit, more of a squeak.

Gavas Drin replied impatiently,

“Yes, the Lady requests your presence at once. It is best not to keep her waiting. You will find her in the High Chapel.”

As always, the answers I received seemed to lead to more questions, questions without solutions. In this case, what I wondered was how I had gotten into this mess and, more important, how I would get out of it.


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The dreams down here aren't broken, nah, they're walkin' with a limp...

The best-dressed newt in Mournhold.
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Fuzzy Knight
post Jun 17 2006, 11:26 AM
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lol - Another good update Trey biggrin.gif Looking forward to see how the meeting between Trey and Almalexia goes wink.gif
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