Memoirs of a Morag Tong Assassin: Vvardenfell, Chapter Six: An Old Friend to Kill... Options

[mplantinga]

Some excellent updates since my last visit. I am ashamed to admit that I enjoyed the death of Orvas Dren; after all the pain and suffering he caused, it somehow felt right. This from a pathological pacifist. I'll have to go hug a few trees in penance for that thought.

I appreciated the artfulness and almost peacefulness with which Sethyas carried out the assasination of Bero. I'm curious if this style will persist in his future writs.

@minque: I think perhaps the biggest problem with mind-reading is that he can't do it to her. People always react badly to the idea that someone has a power over them that they do not also have. But on top of that, people are very attached to the concept of privacy. If mindreading was common, people would have gotten over that long ago or figured out ways to shield their minds. In reality, it is perceived as an assault on the one thing that should be safe. Perhaps in time Sethyas will understand Serene's intentions and forgive her.

[Black Hand]

“Under Sun and Sky, Grandmaster, I greet you warmly.” Ethasi Rilvayn, the Balmora Chapter Steward greeted me, as I moved back the hood of my ceremonial red robes.

We bowed heads to one another, and we sat at a table sipping on Trama Root Tea to discuss our business. While taking a sip, she unrolled the writ, and I nearly spit out the contents of my mouth. The writ was for Larrius Varro.

“The Imperial Legion itself has hired us to dispose of this General. They fear a backlash from the Cammona Tong for his,…connections to the council club slaughter. The legion dare not arrest him for lack of evidence, but everyone knows he is connected in some way, Grandmaster. The only special instructions are to make it quick and quiet. No one must see you, no one must know. The Legion and the Tong must seem innocent in the matter, so the blame can be applied to the Cammona Tong.” She explained, taking a sip of her tea.

I dare not explain to her that I was the arbiter of Varro’s vengeance. Nor do I think that the Legion would believe me if I told them that the Cammona Tong had been practically crippled in recent weeks. But that was wishful thinking, the nature of this beast was that when you cut off the head, three more grew. Even as I write this, I am certain that there are lieutenants in the Cammona Tong consolidating their power in their respective territories; I have somewhat of a background in banditry in Cyrodiil. Though I was more of a solitary bandit, I still knew people in bands; I knew what areas to avoid.

“It is rather strange to honorably murder a Legion Officer. Since when are we permitted to assassinate heads of the local Imperial Office? The Emperor would disband the Morag Tong, its members forced to freelance, essentially allowing the Dark Brotherhood to take over Morrowind…”

“The Legion hired us, the legion sanctioned it. Again, utmost secrecy is required. If caught, you may use the Writ to get out of a legal bind, however the Legion will have lost it’s trust in us. As much as I would like to see the Emperors Lackeys leave our Nation, we still have to deal with them in the meantime. This is as much about removing Larrius Varro, as it is about diplomacy. Your skills are second to none. You will not disappoint.” She said with finality to her tone.

For three days I observed the Fort. Varro rarely left, and when he did. It wasn’t far enough from the fort to remain a quiet kill. Arknghthand was close to the fort, but it served me no help, as I had cleared out the Bandits over a year ago. I had to go inside, and slay him as he slept. There was little other recourse.

I waited until the late evenings light of Secunda and Masser, and I called upon my new power of Mephala Skill. I blended in perfectly with my surroundings as the guards continued about there patrols, archers thumped loudly down the ramparts. I creaked in the main fort door, looking about to see if I were noticed. No one saw a thing, and I slipped in carefully.

I crept in slowly to the barracks, and the sounds of dozens of snoring soldiers helped keep my already silent footsteps masked. I continued to Varro’s Chambers, the door loacked with a minor set of tumblers, I unfolded my small leather folder with a small pick set, and took to the task of unlocking the door. Success came within seconds, and I slowly opened the door, making certain not to let the old pair of hinges alert the sleeping form of Varro to my entry.

The General was sleeping quietly, and I had a perfect opportunity to simply slash and run. I unsheathed Mehrunes Razor with a soft hiss. Admiring how it glowed slightly in the darkness with an unearthly red. The blade came out to a point that almost begged for blood, the handle was exquisitely designed, with a pommel that resembled a small acorn, and perfectly balanced the blade.

But the question still begged, how would a Cammona Tong Thug handle this? If he could even get to a General in the fort…the Cammona Tong would need a specialist, an Assassin, someone like…the Ienith Brothers. Something wasn’t right here.

The writ was legal. In a sense. I had no choice, and I had accepted it. As Grandmaster, I had a duty, above all others to fulfill this writ. We had strict laws, and reneging on a contract was death to the appointee.

I slid the razor quickly across the Generals throat. My back hand muffling any sound he might have made, as I stayed until my former temporary ally died in my hands. I prayed to Mephala and the Nine for his peaceful passage. The Nine, though not my gods, have some part of my background, as I was raised in an Imperial Chapel Orphanage. Though usually teased and shunned being called names like ‘demon’ and ‘daedra’ by the other children. However in this time, the Nine were Varro’s gods, and I released him unto them.

With a muttering of a spell, I felt the mystical energy of a recall spell engulf me. And like a wave crashing onto shore, I appeared in a gust of yellowish-whitish energy in the Balmora Guildhall of the Morag Tong.


I placed the writ on the desk before me, and sat down, staring at the window until dawn broke some hours later. Ethasi, ever the early riser, gave me a surly smile, and looked at the writ before me.

“It is done, Grandmaster?” She yawned.

“Yes. But…who really ordered the writ?” I asked.

“The legion did..someone from the Ebonheart Fort more specifically. Vanis something or other. The Imperial names all sound the same, I’ll get the Record Book.”

“No need. The name won’t lead anywhere. The legion had nothing to do with this Writ. Nor will we reveal that we had anything to do with it. We will let the Cammona Tong take the blame, as they are the ones technically responsible.”

Ethasi’s jaw dropped as she finally realized. “OF course! How could I have been so blind? But he was dressed up and had a letter…it must have been a forgery!”

“Yes. The Cammona Tong tricked us. They wanted to lash back at the Legion, and Varro specifically. And in a twist of irony, I was the one who performed the Council Club Hit, and now I am the one who avenged their murders.”

“YOU? But…”

“It was for personal business with Orvas Dren. Not Morag Tong business. This stays between the two of us. And use the payment from the writ to clean up any mess I might have made. Bribes, whatever. I have business in Sadrith Mora with Dunsapil Dun-Ahhe.”

“But, Grandmaster…why did you not stay your hand if you realized that the Cammona Tong was behind this Writ?”

“Because a Writ is honorable and sacred, besides Varro and I were temporary allies at best. If he figured throwing me to the dogs to save own skin was better, he would have. Sometimes, the grey washes over the black and white. Sometimes we must do things that benefit only ourselves. As ugly and wrong as they might be.”

[jack cloudy]

Dang, I definitely hoped that the Camonna would be out of action for at least a while. Then again, they might lay low after knocking out Varro. Hmm, Imperials in the Camonna Tong? (referring to the fake Legionnaire) This is getting interesting.

[Black Hand]

Well, it won't lead anywhere. It's like that one Argonian whom works for the Cammona Tong, but solely as a mercenary. The one 'slave' that you lead to Sterdecan.

[The Metal Mallet]

This was a rather interesting update, given Sethyas reasoning for making the hit despite that in all actuality, the Commona Tong were more than likely responsible for asking for the writ to be made up. His sense of honour is quite strong, likely due to his choice of House among other things.

I enjoyed this update; can't wait to enjoy the next!

[minque]

O-o.....now what? This is indeed getting very interesting...who´s that legionnaire? Ha I hope it´s the eeeeeeeeeeevil Varus Vantinius....oh aye I do.....just remember what he did to Serene!

I´m with you Seth...all the way, oh my favourite Dunmer!

Now it was a shame he had to kill Larrius, I mean he was a decent guy, did no harm to anyone did he?

Another question....where´s Rayne?.hmmmmm....

Awesome Blackie! Sheer awesome...

[jack cloudy]

It won't? Too bad. Hmm, I never met an Argonian who desired to go to this Sterdecan, wherever that is. The only slaves I've encountered where either satisfied with adding their bracers to my collection or sometimes they wanted to go to Im-Kalaya.

Please don't tell me about this Sterdecan place. I don't want it to get spoiled when I do meet this Argonian.

An Argonian working for the Camonna Tong, even though a mercenary. I don't know what's more surprising, the CT hiring an Argonian or an Argonian letting himself be hired by the CT.

[Black Hand]

I stared at the towering mushroom tower of Sadrith Mora. I had received communiqué from Dunsapil Dun-Ahhe, the Master of the Sadrith Mora Chapter of the Morag Tong. He pressed me to arrive as quickly as possible, as he promised me a ‘challenge unlike any I had faced’. Not that I take pride in killing, but I take pride in my position as the Grandmaster, and to set the example for the guild now.

“Greetings, Sethyas! Join me in breakfast. For it may well prove to be your last. Should you accept this Writ, that is.” Said the former Ashlander, pushing a plate of kwama eggs, scrib jelly, and bread to me. I ate bits and pieces as he regaled me with tales of the Telvanni and their ‘forward’ politics in the Zafirbel Bay.

“But now the time has come for you to find out whom the Writ is for?” He said, building up the tension with a Bard’s sense of drama. It worked.

“Yes. Who?” I replied plainly.

“Mistress Therana.” He said with a macabre smile.

I blinked and laughed. “Therana?! Forgive me, its not that I don’t believe you, I do. But, a ‘challenge’? That old bat is so nuts, that all I would have to do is tell her that there is a humidor with a spider in it that wanted to talk to her, at the bottom of her entry shaft, and she would walk off to her death! Really! She may be a powerful Mage-Lord, but she has long gone into the realm of Sheogorath.” I said drying an eye.

“It’s not like you to underestimate an Opponent, Grandmaster. Your reputation precedes you as a careful one, patient, and cunning. The embodiment of Mephalas teachings. Why so quick to dismiss her power?”

“I had a prior meeting with her, during the Nerevar business. I convinced her to name me Hortator of House Telvanni by doing this..” I said showing him the removable finger magic trick. “It ended in her trying to remove her finger with a dagger.”

He chuckled. “Perhaps that is what her reaction was to a request, but if she is truly insane, then she may react quite violently when confronted in an attempt on her life. Are you willing to accept the Writ? We have been offered over 10,000 drakes on this one.”

I nearly spit out my drink. 10,000 drakes were nothing to sneeze at, even by my standards. “Ah. I see. Someone must REALLY want her dead then. Very well. I accept.”

“Very well then, I assign it to you Grandmaster. Travel to Tel Branora, and end her insanity.”

It wasn’t hard to guess who had a grudge against Therana. The entire Telvanni Council. It wasn’t like the emerging generation of Telvanni Councilors were going to tolerate the older for much longer, and they were willing to use my guild to bring forth their goals to fruition.

My arrival in Tel Branora was in the setting of the sun, hopefully more symbolic for someone other then myself. I knew that the Mistress was likely above in her chambers, perhaps retiring for the evening. I entered unseen with Mephala’s Skill using the Towers natural steps.

“Oh, it’s you again! Are you going to show me how to do that finger thing yet?” Therana said noticing me walking by, showing me a nub where her index finger used to be.

I blinked, and did my best to suppress a giggle. Assassination was a serious business. Usually.

“Umm. Yeah. Here, why don’t you come with me, outside? It will be much easier to marshal my energies in the moonlight…” I said walking outside, as she followed eagerly. It wasn’t going to be this easy was it?

We stood at the bank of the peninsula to the south of her Stronghold, and I pretended to concentrate with humming a bard tune I had heard in a Tavern recently.

“First, you must gather twenty pearls for me. Spend no less then one hour underneath the water! Quickly! Before Secunda and Masser disappear!” I commanded.

Therana eagerly obeyed as she took to the water, flitting about and burning several slaughterfish and Dreugh to a crisp. She was a tough mage, I’ll give her that. Now hopefully she would run out of magicka and drown….

An hour and a half later, Therana surfaced with more pearls then I cared to count in a makeshift basket in her robes.

“Is this enough?” She asked dumping all of the pearls onto the sand.

“Uh, yeah.” I said gawking at the hundreds of jewels.

”Now what?” She said clapping her hands excitedly. “Are you ready to show me yet?”

“Umm…one more preparation must be made. You must fly to the heights of the sky, and pluck the feather of twenty Cliff Racers, while they are in the sky, or else the magic will not work! Then, while still in the sky, you must dispel all of your magicka, and fall to the ground! Go! Quickly! Our time is running short!” I commanded, and she rose to the heights of the sky disappearing as a pinprick.

Half an hour later, I heard the high pitched screaming of a mage falling from the sky, quite similar to that of Tarhiel from when I had first left Seyda Neen. The unceremonious landing of Therana was followed by an incredible sight.

She got up.

“Are these enough?” She asked showing me a handful of hundreds of Racer Plumes, a wide grin on her face.

“Um. Yeah. That’ll do.” I said gawking at the pile of plumes.

“You’ll show me now?” She asked joyfully.

Could nothing kill this woman? I had tried to be as clever as I could, but she kept surviving the ‘tasks’ I had her do. This was time to get ruthless. Not creative.

“Sure. Here. Stand right there, close your eyes. And no matter what happens, don’t move!” I said unslinging my crossbow, and proceeded to use her as a pincushion.

Three minutes and twenty bolts later, she opened one of her eyes looking side to side.

“I feel a tingling sensation…does that mean its working?” She whispered to me.

I looked incredulously at her, lowering the crossbow. “Uh, yeah.” I gave up. Nothing could kill this old crone!!

I sat down, and patted the sand next to me, where she sat as well. “Look, fold this finger back like this. Now with you other hand put your two fingers over that one…now bring it over the knuckle here…and there you go!” I said. Ten-thousand drakes weren’t that important.

“Oh my! Yes, yes! This is wonderful! I’m so happy! Oh…dear,…my heart…” she croaked out, she fell over her head falling into my lap. She was stone dead with a smile on her face.

The joy of learning the ‘magic’ had been too much of a strain on her heart…..go figure. My job was done here, and I had a story to tell Dunsapil.

[jack cloudy]

Whahaha! *cough, weeze, cough* Sorry, I need some air.

This was just hilarious. The master assassin fails constantly to kill his mark. In the end, she drops death from excitement. Hilarious, really.

It's a bit sad though. I liked Therana because of her insanity. She was one of the more fun people to talk to.

Umm, is Sethyas going to take the pearls and plumes with him? I'm sure that a Morag Tong alchemist would be happy to make some potions with it. Don't Cliffracer petals provide levitation?

[minque]

This was....sheer funny! I really laughed when reading about all the tricks he made towards Therana...Like this:

Half an hour later, I heard the high pitched screaming of a mage falling from the sky, quite similar to that of Tarhiel from when I had first left Seyda Neen. The unceremonious landing of Therana was followed by an incredible sight.

She got up.

muhahaha.....what a sight!

Brillians as ever Blackie!

[canis216]

Well, that was interesting. I guess from now on Sethyas will be more wary of doddering old Telvanni sustained by the necromantic arts.

[The Metal Mallet]

That has to be one of the more amusing update I have ever read. Wonderfully clever Black. It's nice to see some creative range.

S.G.M

[mplantinga]

I guess he was wrong to underestimate Therana. She seemed to have some sort of supernatural strength in her.

Definitely one of the most amusing updates ever.

[Black Hand]

Dunsapil Dun-Ahhe laughed. Quite uncharacteristic for a Master of the Morag Tong. And he laughed quite a bit at the story. Commenting that he had heard of everything in the Morag Tong, ranging from the tragic to the hilarious, but this one was the most he had heard. I begged him not to spread it around, for one, we must honor the dead, secondly, I did have a reputation to protect as the Grandmaster.

“Well, I can certainly keep a secret. But, there is one more Writ that must be fulfilled.”

“Who is it?” I asked, clinking through the large bags with the large reward.

“Baladas Demnevanni. A recent addition to the Telvanni Council who resides in Gnisis, has been marked for honorable execution in accordance with the tradition of the Morag Tong.” Dunsapil said solemnly.

I looked into space, as my hand stopped counting the coins.

“I take it you know this Mer?” he said slowly.

“I do. I am the reason he joined the Telvanni Council. Who would want him dead?”

“Gothren. Prior to the former Archmagisters death that is. I believe his Mouth, Mallam Ryon, is ending the ancient feud between these two, taking it upon himself to avenge his death.”

”That’s nonsense! I killed Archmagister Gothren! Not Baladas!”

“I….see. You killed a three thousand year old Mage-Lord? Really Sethyas, I think we’ve had enough of the jokes for one day.”

I gave him a deadly serious look. “I’m not joking. I killed Gothren, and set up Aryon as the current Archmagister to fulfill the Nerevarine Prophecies.”

“Ah Yes, I forgot who I was speaking with, The Nerevarine. Forgive me, Grandmaster.” He said apologetically.

I shook my head. “I wasn’t pulling Rank, Dunsapil. Relax. I simply meant that the motivation behind this writ is misguided.”

”Nonetheless; the writ is genuine. Will you accept it?”

I sighed. “My Honor demands no less. Baladas shall die by my hand, or I his.”

I rested for a few days. Letting the impact of the last few weeks take some more time to settle in. My lost love, my revenge, and my Masterhood, and acting as Mephala’s Black Hand. As the Argonian had said, he was the Emperors black hand, I the Daedra’s.

Did we assassin’s ever act of our own accord? Were we merely the puppets of our masters hands? Or were we on the forefront of fate and destiny? Was I merely a cog in a Dwemer construct? Free will versus Destiny, the question the Dwemer had dared to answer for themselves, and they had paid the ultimate price. There is a flow, and natural course to the flow of the plane, are we part of it, or ships free to set sail where we wished.

Perhaps the illusion is that the Ship is separate from the current, and both must act as one, even one is free to act independently from the other.

Regardless, I set sail in the Elf-Skerring north, to Dagon Fel. From there, I chartered another course to Khuul, from there, I walked south, to return to the Mer I had convinced to join the Council.

“It’s a strange thing, killing a man. You take away everything he was, is, and shall be in this world. He becomes a tragic memory, where flesh and blood once spoke. Petty arguments become savory, the warmth of the sun becomes priceless, where once it was a trivial thing, when you know that death is upon you..” I said staring at the Steam Centurion, appearing out of nowhere, my back to Baladas.

“Yes. I am well aware of these things. But pray tell, why have you come to disturb my peace with such a sentiment, Nerevarine? Has Aryon more business to settle with me? My Mouth is for such things.” He said looking up from some Dwemer Tomes, with an irritable tone.

I shook my head. “No, this business is solely between me and you. I wish that I said I came here to bring you News of any kind. Rather, I bring you the message of death. I pray that your passage is peaceful, wise Demnevanni…” I said pointing my crossbow at his seated form.

“Wait just a minute! What do you think--….” His cry of surprise was ended with the bolt being released from the weapon to his heart, the potent poison was rather quick, as I had made it to be. I rarely felt remorse for a kill. This time I did.

[Black Hand]

My travels had taken me nearly over the entire Island. But I was home here at Bal Isra. Though Ilmeni’s absence left an unbearable emptiness that nothing could fulfill. I did not drink, as I knew that ‘evil’ of alcohol was really mans desperation to rid himself of unwanted memories. And the weeks of waiting for the pain to dissipate went slowly, but eventually, through the Morag Tong, the clouds broke with a ray of light, purpose to go on.

I called upon Serene and Athyn, to apologize for my outburst while drunk last, and too see the only real family I had left. Loss had brought us closer together in a way that pain only could.

The three of us sat together in the late morning on Sarethi Manor’s veranda, overlooking the Ashlands. Sipping on cornberry juice, and eating a light breakfast. Words were few, but the glances were not. In truth, I was simply happy to be amongst friends, and I basked in their presence, as a light seemed to come from Serene and Athyns love. A feeling that I missed.

“I am glad to see that you are doing better Sethyas. I just wish that you were not such a loner, and determined to see your way through the pain alone. We can help you shoulder that burden. We feel the loss of Ilmeni as much as you.” Athyn said softly.

I gave him a melancholy look, and smiled sadly. “I would not ask it of you, dear friend. Sometimes things are best left separated to a degree. You have had much of your own loss to deal with, and again would not burden you with it.”

“And I suppose that you’re still as unwilling to speak with me of your feelings in this?” Serene chided me.

“Sweet Sister, it has never been my nature to speak openly of them. Its not that I mistrust you, but my way has always been the hidden.”

“But you do mistrust me. To an extent.”

“Yes. But you know why. It’s…uncomfortable.”

”Let me guess. You’re talking about her telepathy? Haha! Get used to it, my boy! I can’t ever win an argument with her, she already knows what I’m going to say next!”

“That’s ALL women, Dear.” Serene whispered to Athyn, to which the three of us chuckled.

“But speaking of certain women, Sethyas. A friend of yours dropped by the other day…Rayne Alas, was it? The bridesmaid from your wedding, pretty little thing. she wanted to make sure that you were okay, and hadn’t seen you for weeks. You might wish to let her know that you’re still alive.” Athyn said taking a sip of his drink.

“Rayne?” I had nearly forgotten about her.

“Oh yes! I had wanted to speak with you about her…” Serene said snapping her fingers.

“What’s that?” I said.

“Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about!” Serene said with a mischievous grin.

”I really don’t, Archmistress.” I said obsequiously.

”Well. If you don’t mind, I did read her a bit. Not her mind, mind you, but there are certain things a woman just knows. Seth….she is in love with you, madly at that.”

“Oooooohh!” Athyn said slapping his head. “Of course! Why did I not see that?! It makes perfect sense. Her demeanor, the way she talked about you…”

The subconscious realization kicked me like a Guar. I knew it from the moment we exited the Red Mountain. But I was already with another. Rayne was dangerous in that sense.

“Maybe. But it does not matter. I do not share it. She is foolish if she thinks anything will happen, my Wife is still fresh in the grave, and it is not proper to discuss such things.” I said with a slight harsh to my tone.

“You’re right, you’re right, I am sorry. It was not to dishonor Ilmeni’s memory in any way; I just thought you might like to know. But a bit of advice, a woman’s feelings are not a thing to be brushed aside so carelessly. Indeed, fighting Dagoth Ur may well have been a cakewalk compared to dealing with a woman scorned.”

“No, Serene. I am sorry. I did not mean to use Ilmeni’s death as an excuse. If it were I that died, I would want for her to move on as soon as possible, to be happy, and not lay around in tears for years on end. She would have wanted the same for me. But, it still is a bit of a sore spot.”

”When Domesea died, I felt the pain deeply, and I still do. I loved Serene too. It was not long before we were in each others arms, Sethyas. As you said, Domi wanted me to be happy. Life is for the living. Even if not Rayne, when you are finished mourning, you should look for another love. Life is greater when shared. Yes, there is pain, and compromise, but in my experience, loneliness is a far greater pain, and the one you will regret.” Athyn advised me with a soft tone.

I think that you do love her, Sethyas. Your pain just refuses to let you admit that. You think that it’s wrong to love two people at once. Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t, but it’s sure as hell painful. I know. Serene sent to me, not wanting to chide me in front of Athyn. I finally accepted her gift.

You think so? I don’t know. Maybe. But this hardly seems the time. I thought to her.

Ah! The resistance in your mind is starting to melt down. I just want good things for you Sethyas. I want to help. I want to see you happy. Maybe she would be good for you.

Maybe I don’t want good things for myself.

Oh my. You blame yourself for her death, I can see that now. That explains a great deal. It seems you blame yourself for a great many things.

Just because you’re right, doesn’t mean I’m wrong. I’m not like most people, I don’t try to stick others with the responsibility, when it was my fault. Setsuna, Ilmeni. I’m not a good person Serene. At least I can see that.

“What are you two talking about?” Athyn mused. “Never mind, I can see when I’m not needed. I’m going inside to speak with Salyn. You two hash out whatever it is.”

Serene looked at Athyn depart, and then gazed at me with those damned blue eyes of hers. They saw more of me then I cared to admit.

“Since we’re alone, lets talk, since that’s what you’re more comfortable with. Now whats this about you not being a good person? I should slap you!”

I looked at her. My mouth did not move. I couldn’t open up. The pain, the self hatred wouldn’t let me.

“Oh, so now you want to close up? Seth, let it go. It serves you no good! What makes you think that putting yourself down, makes the things that happened any better? Is it the lack of closure?”

“Closure?” I asked.

“It’s a term that some mages use. They say that the mind needs a sense of finality to traumatic events. Or else it tends to drag on indefinitely.”

“Right. Look, its MY fault that I left Orvas Dren alive. Its my fault that I never told my sister what I did. And I am the one whom must live with those consequences, and with those regrets.”

“Orvas Dren killed your wife, not you. Your Sister joined the Dark Brotherhood, not you. She was not a child! She knew what she was doing. Why make yourself miserable with these thoughts? Especially when they’re not true….believe me. I had to learn the hard way. When I was sent here to Vvardenfell, my uncle, Varus Vantinius, a High-Ranking Imperial Legion Officer, raided a camp of Dunmer I was staying with. I thought it was my fault that what happened to them, happened….” She broke off with a single tear.

“Varus? The guy stationed in Ebonheart?”

“Yes. Many times have I wished to confront him. But I fear that it would weaken my position as the Archmistress, seeking personal vendettas, and that I know all to well the path that revenge leads us down. Some things are best left in the past. I have Athyn now, and friend in you. Even if you don’t fully trust me, I know that I can trust you.”

“Varus….that sounds an awful lot like….Vanus…” I said, my mind already in other places.

“Sethyas? What are you thinking? Whats wrong?”

“Nothing. But I have to go.” I said leaving abruptly.

[jack cloudy]

Aha, so there will be a sequel to our 'fake' Legionnaire!

Also, it is nice to see that Sethyas is beginning to release the pain he keeps bottled up inside. Still a shame about Baladas though. I liked that guy.

[The Metal Mallet]

Nice couple of updates Black. It's nice to see things improving between Serene and Sethyas, though there's still some resistance (which is good). A now the man who is possibly responsible for working with the Commona Tong is revealed. Of course, that's just speculation. We'll have to see what the next update brings to see whether I'm correct or not.

[mplantinga]

I was sad to see Baladas die; he was always one of my favorite mages. This whole concept of honorable assassination still feels odd to me, but I guess I'm not Dunmer do I just won't understand.

Also, points for the use of "obsequiously."

[minque]

Great great great updates! Ha they´re on talking terms again, Seth and Renie! yay, that´s just so good, hehe the man finally realised that she just might be good for him....Oh and now what? I´m so curious what Blackie is up to now.....

SGM......S.G.M

[Black Hand]

“Alright, Dunmer. You’re right. I did request the Writ against Larrius Varro. And, yes, maybe it was done so that he would quit with his vendetta against the Empires silent partner in Vvardenfell, the Cammona Tong. You can’t do anything about it. I’m an Imperial Officer after all. Outside the jurisdiction of the Morag Tong, on top of the fact that I’m Knight of the Imperial Dragon, commander of all the Imperial Forces inside Morrowind! Now begone, before I have you arrested!” Varus Vantinius spoke harshly to me.

“You’re right, I can’t do anything about as a Morag Tong. But you speak with none other then the Nerevarine! And I’m quite certain the Duke would be willing to look the other way for a piddling little nothing like you! No one manipulates the Morag Tong, and lives to speak of it!” I spat out, my anger nearly red-hot.

“You border on Treason, Dunmer! I don’t care if you’re Lord Vivec! You will speak with respect to me! I’ll let that slide, as you did do something worthy, for one of your kind, but that’s the only favor you’ll receive from me!” he said with rising anger.

“Respect? You know nothing of the word. Very well, before the Duke, and the Imperial Guard, as a Noble of House Redoran, I challenge your Honor! Only a duel in the Arena shall allow you to defend it!” I retorted, the Imperial guard gripping their hilts with increased nervousness.

Varus eyes narrowed, and he put his hand up to hold them back. “You think I’ll simply agree to a duel, from an Elf? I think not. Besides. I saw your fight with Venim, Nerevarine. I admit, your skill with a blade far surpasses mine. I would not readily agree to my death. However, for a consideration, I may be willing to grant your request.”

“Money?”

”No. There are two artifacts that the Legion holds, that have gone missing in recent times. Recover them for me, and I will accommodate your request for a duel. What say you?”

”You think that an Artifact will save you? Ha! Very well. What would you have me do, Imperial?” I chortled out.

“The first, is the Lords Mail. An enchanted cuirass of legendary origin. It was last seen in our shrine, here in the Grand Council Chambers, you will recover it, and return it to me. Here is a shrine key, I will allow you access to investigate the area. Touch nothing, or the guards will kill you. Am I clear?”

I took the key into my black gloved hands, I looked at it, then at him. “Fine. We have an accord.” I said leaving his chambers.

Not a moment after I was walking down the hallway, a hand tapped my shoulder. I turned to see a concerned looking middle-aged Imperial man.

“What is it? I don’t mean to be rude, but I have urgent matters to attend.”

”I know. My name is Rufinus Alleius. I…overheard your conversation with Varus. I maybe able to share some insight into the location of the Lords Mail.”

“I’m listening.”

”One of the troopers, Furius Aculius was muttering something a few days ago about underground caverns beneath Ebonheart, and how the Legion would get what’s coming to it.”

I took the advice, and inspected his quarters inside the Imperial Guards room. Beneath his pillow, I found a worn key. Perhaps it would come in handy later…

Inspecting the shrine, I found nothing amiss. Everything was where it was supposed to be, except for the trail of muck leading to the wall….

I ran my hand along the wall, and could feel a slight trickle of air flowing in. I pounded the stone with the side of my fist, and could hear echoing into a tunnel. Finally, I brought a finger to a crack in the stone that was obviously the product of some Mason. I slipped the key I had found inside it, and the strong lock clicked open.

I proceeded deep inside the caverns that the echo had spoken of, and was greeted by an Imperial who lived up to the homonym of his name. Furius screamed at me.

“Those fools in the legion sought to expel me! So I took their special little artifact! And you’ll not reclaim it from me, Dark Elf! Die!” He yelled unsheathing a katana, and charging me.

I unsheathed my own katana, and agilely dodged his attacks, my strikes landed against his breastplate with little more then sparks. He smiled cockily, only ending the battle by utilizing his fatal mistake. He forgot to wear a helmet.

“Here.” I said handing the cuirass to Varus.

“Well, well! It would seem you have recovered the Lord’s Mail!” He said taking off his breastplate, and putting the recovered artifact on. With a mocking smile he handed me his old one.

“Here. You can have this. You’ll need it if you luck keeps up. Next, I want you to recover Chrysamere. It is a legendary sword; some say it was crafted by the hands of the gods themselves. Nonetheless, the last I heard, it was seen nearest to Sadrith Mora, travel there, and find out what you can. Recover Chrysamere, and return it to me.”

I took the Chun-Ook to Sadrith Mora, and arrived at Durty Muriels Cornerclub. After the usual exchange of gold for information amongst the Thieves Guild, I learned that Draamu Hloran, a necromancer in Abanabi was holding the blade.

Water walking, I could see Tel Fyr just off in the distance as I approached the Cavern Door. Inside, I found the bluish crystals that the isolationist sorcerers seemed to be fond of, as they created reservoirs of magicka.

Dispatching a young apprentice, and several Daedra with the Bow of Shadows, I made my way deeper inside the dark cave, finding a Dunmer woman in robes with a large claymore strapped to her back. Chrysamere.

Fortunately, she wasn’t fond of armor, and my marksmanship was up to the task as she fell to the ground in crumbled heap. I made my way to her body, and unsheathed the mighty sword. I am not a Paladin, but even I could appreciate the balance and enchantment of the claymore. This is why Varus wanted it back. He wanted the power of the artifacts to save his life. I couldn’t even penetrate the Lords Mail with a Daedric Katana, and now, with this blade, which could slice through bone like butter, his chances against me were greater then ever.

But it would not stop me. I had the honor of my guild to uphold, as well as Redorans, since I had invoked their name to confront the Legionnaire. And as a side, it seemed he had wronged Serene in the past. Fates were being written with every step I took.

“Marvelous!” Varus said as he brought the sword to a guard position, and admired the the glow of the razor edges.

“You have performed well for an enemy. You have honor. I respect that. And I will now grant your request for a duel. Meet me in the Arena at Vivec tomorrow, Nerevarine!” He said with a wicked grin.

The match was to be a private one, this time there was no throngs of onlookers. No Ilmeni to cheer me on from the sidelines. No, it was me and Varus. I spent as much time keeping up on my long blade skill as I could, and rested well that night.

The next morning, I went back to the Arena, the last time was against Bolvyn Venim, now, Varus Vantinius. I exited my gladiators pen, and saw the legionnaire exiting his, already wearing full Imperial Armor Dress, and preparing to hew me with Chrysamere.

“Ha! No Armor? You come unprepared to duel, Dunmer!” Varus laughed, seeing me still wear my ritual red robes.

“No, I am quite prepared…after all. You never specified what the rules of the duel were! I am not a legion lackey, Varus! I am a Morag Tong Assassin! And the rules are these: Do whatever it takes to kill your opponent! Come, let us begin!” I yelled from across the field, already running to him, for the first time I saw a look of fear in his eyes.

He brought the claymore back for an overhand swing, as I sailed through the air, both hands with the Ancient Silver Dagger ready for a downward thrust. I landed on him before he could follow through, and in the small openings of the Lords Mail, underneath the arms, I stabbed him with the daggers, the poison running its course through his veins. He invoked the power of the Lords Mail, and immediately the poison was gone. With an upward kick, he sent me falling back, and with a yell, he brought the Claymore in a wide overhand arc, the tip of the blade landing where my head might have been, had I no dodged.

Spinning to my feet, I cursed Varus’ luck, and instead, brought out the Black Hands Dagger. He wasn’t the only one with legendary artifacts, I slashed his forearm once, and then switched back to the Daedric Katana.

For several seconds, I kept up footwork to avoid the blows from him, preferring to dodge, and parrying when I could. Then, finally, with breath running out, Varus fell to his knees.

He breathed heavily, feeling the life leave him. He looked up at me with a look in his eyes that spoke of evil intent.

“Treacherous Dunmer! I should have killed you sooner…” he said as he slumped over to di.

I took the Lords Mail, and Chrysamere. As I was the one who recovered them and won the duel, they were rightfully mine. More importantly, the Honor of the Morag Tong was saved. Never again would we be manipulated.