Morrowind, A fanfic Options

[milanius]

Hit & Run tactic has done well for Fyr so far, but the aggressive political lobying [like we're seeing now] has to follow up. Even if Indoril decide to wage war on each other, mages are still heavily outnumbered.

The fact that 2 out of 3 independent guilds in Morrowind decided to immediately side with Hlaalu against Telvanni [in spite of that house's current leadership] also makes things much more difficult. The only bright side for Telvanni is that remaining Imperial forces will, just like Armigers, remain neutral. Morag Tong, on the other hand, can be viewed as pure oportunists and I am eagerly awaiting their involvement in the story.

[Alexander]

When Baladas arrived at Sadrith Mora, one of his spellwrights was standing at the entrance to Tel Naga, waiting for him.

“Excuse me Magister Demnevanni, but there’s a message I’ve been given to deliver to you.”

Baladas took the paper, and looked it over. There was no enchantment there; nothing would burst into flames should he open it and there was no seal. He unfolded it and read what it said.

I await your pleasure at Muriel’s

Baladas was curious what the person who wrote it wanted. Dirty Muriel’s was known to be a place where thieves and sometimes even assassins would congregate.

“Come with me,” he told the spellwright and started for Muriel’s. It wasn’t far, just on the edge of town and it took them only minutes to get there. At the door, he asked the spellwright to wait for him outside, and entered the tavern. Around the corner, an Imperial was standing guard. As Baladas entered he drew his blade, but seeing who entered, he lowered it again.

“He’s waiting upstairs. Follow me.” And the Imperial walked up the stairs. To the right there were three rooms, and standing in front of the middle room was a large Altmer woman. She must be the famed Big Helende. It wasn’t common for an Altmer to choose the profession of a thief, but if the stories held any truth to them, she was more then good at her chosen profession. When she saw him walk up the stairs, she opened the door behind her and allowed Baladas inside.

The room was empty save for a cabinet and a bed, and on the bed a Redguard was lying. The parts Baladas could see were badly burned. He had many scars on his face and one of his eyes was gone. He looked up as Baladas entered and the remaining eye fixed the Telvanni with and unblinking stare.

“Thank you for seeing me, Magister, and I must apologize for my appearance. I’ve found when Camonna Tong operatives question someone, they do not care for the damage they do. My name is Jim Stacey, Gentleman Jim; though I realise I don’t look much like a gentleman right now.”

Baladas had heard of Jim Stacey of course; his name was often associated with the Bal Molagmer, not to mention some very spectacular thefts. Word had it, he was the first to succeed in stealing an Elder Scroll from the Imperial Palace in Cyrodiil.

“Before you go on Stacey, after we’re done here I’ll send one of my healers to you. I’m not so good at it myself, but I employ some very good healers. They will do what they can for you.”

Jim Stacey looked grateful for that, then nodded his head and continued, “They attacked just after dark, in Balmora., Our tavern was surrounded by warriors and assassins alike, they barricaded all the doors and windows, and then set fire to it. Everyone inside was burned alive. Those who succeeded in breaking through a window were slaughtered in the street. Of course the Hlaalu magistrates took no notice of what happened. Only one of our men was able to escape unobserved, or so he thought. He came to me in Vivec, and brought word of what had happened, but he hadn’t noticed being followed and before we knew what hit us, 15 Camonna thugs had stormed and broken into our secret hideout in Vivec. They killed the people with me, and tried to get information out of me, but when their guard was down I was able to take out an amulet that transported me here.”

Baladas assumed that was why no official word had reached anyone from the guild.

“So you see, Magister, we’re in a difficult spot right now; more then a third of our numbers are dead, with others in hiding with no place to go. And most of all, we have no way to pay back the men who did this.”

Baladas got the hint. You scratch our back and we scratch yours.

“Well, Jim, it seems we have this big old tower here, just outside of town, and it’s just sitting there doing nothing. I’m sure no one would notice, or even want to notice, if somehow it was used by some refugees.”
Jim Stacey looked up and smiled at Baladas,
Be assured Magister, if any of our rats just happen to overhear anything, or should you need something stolen, we will be at your disposal.”

[Burnt Sierra]

Poor Gentleman Jim! I always liked him as well... Anyway, now the Thieves Guild are in the mix, and the Telvanni needed someone to act as their eyes and ears, especially against an opponent as devious and used to subterfuge as Helseth. All these plot strands....

Looking forwards to the next update

[Agent Griff]

So the table is set and the pieces are moving. It seems that, according to my predictions, the Mages Guild and the Fighters Guild both joined with Helseth. He now has at least one thousand eager swords and more than a hundred budding mages ready to do his bidding. House Telvanni however has the Vampires, half of House Indoril and the remnants of the Thieves Guild.

Outnumbered to be sure but not outmatched is what I'd say. I think the two sides are rather evenly matched.

[Alexander]

Chapter 16. Dreams and nightmares.

Helseth was standing at the waterfront in Balmora. It was dark all around him, the dead of night. He was wearing a long black robe, and a black hood covered his face. Surrounding him were several Royal guards, disguised though, and several leading members of the Camonna Tong. He’d been invited by them to join in this joyous moment. In front of him he saw the outlines of a building, that he had gone past the during previous trips to the city, but never inside. He had no business going into a club run by the thieves guild.

The entire town was silent, but Helseth knew it was but a front. Silently, many men were advancing on the club. One of the leaders of the Tong had given Helseth a night eye amulet so he could watch the show. He saw men carrying wooden boards and hammers advance on the clubhouse. An unseen and unheard sign moved them into swift action. They hurried to board shut all of the windows and doors. With so many men working together, it was done before anyone could stop them.

The same men now picked up torches, and lit them using spells. Then, at the sign of one of the leaders, they threw the burning torches into the small openings they had left in the windows and door. The torches had likely been magically enhanced, for in no time at all, the building was ablaze. From the inside Helseth heard coughing, and some screaming. A smile crossed his lips, and the screaming increased as the fire moved through the building. Then he saw movement near a corner of the building, and started to shout, but one of the Tong stopped him. It was a nasty looking Dunmer with a large scar covering one side of his face, and he had not shaved in many weeks.

“Leave it, king Helseth. Leave the critter, we will follow it and it will lead us right to those we seek.”

Helseth understood- trap a big fish by letting a small one think he’s escaped.

No one in Balmora had been attracted by the screams and noise; everyone knew better then to come running to the aid of foreigners. The best way to lead a long life in Balmora was to mind your own business. The screams were starting to waver now; someone had shoved a young child through an opening in the window, thinking to save it, but one of the Tong picked it up by its leg and threw it back inside. The child did not come back out. Helseth knew the exciting part was over. He turned to the Tong leader to thank him, but a movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention.

He turned toward the movement and backed up. Before him stood a person dressed in a black robe just like the one Helseth was wearing, but this figure was ten feet high and towered over Helseth. Helseth looked to the people around him and pointed at the figure, but no one seemed to notice him.

“Helseth,” the figure boomed, ”Helseth, you will pay for this travesty; you will not go unpunished.”

Helseth saw him raise his arms, and felt power being drawn to them as lightning cracked in the air and converged on the outstretched hands of the figure. He saw the boll of lightning fly towards him with speed unimaginable and knew he could not possibly avoid it.

Helseth let out a scream and sat up. His sheets, his underwear, everything was streaming with sweat. He looked around, half expecting the robed figure to appear next to his bed, but fortunately he was nowhere to be found. Helseth sighed in relief. He could not remember the last time he’d been that scared. And it had all started so nicely. He moved out of bed, put on his bed robe and his shoes and moved to the door. He opened it and saw a figure in a black robe turn towards him. The figure reached out, and Helseth felt a tug and immense pain and saw the robed figure holding a bloody Dunmer’s heart in his hand. Helseth looked down to his chest and saw a gaping hole where his heart used to be. He screamed.

Drenched in sweat, Helseth sat up. He looked around his room; two servants were standing near the edge of the bed, looking at him with wild large eyes. Helseth assumed he must have been screaming again. Ever since he’d gone to Balmora, his nights had been restless. Each night he dreamed the same dream- it always started out with his memories of that night in Balmora, but then the robed figure appeared. After that first night he’d ordered his guards to turn Mournhold inside out to find this robed man, but apart from the dead clothier found in his shop, nothing out of the ordinary had been discovered.

Helseth allowed his servants to help him dress, and glared at them, challenging them to say but a single wrong word about his screams, but unfortunately none of them said anything to give Helseth an excuse to punish them.

When Helseth arrived at his study a bit later that morning, he found a number of reports waiting for him. Apparently they and a message from Athyn Sarethi had been delivered some time during the night. The first message was bad news, but not something Helseth was surprised to hear. That brainless Yngling had come up with a brilliant plan, or so he thought. He wished to send a small army of Hlaalu under cover of truce into Suran, drop the flag of truce and retake the city. Helseth had told him not to go through with it, but he would not listen. Now yet another part of the Hlaalu army had been massacred senselessly.

“Oh,” Yngling noted proudly, “but not all is lost, for we have Suran under siege.”

Helseth snorted; that would be the first time a city would succumb to the pressure of a siege that was only executed on one side, with two other sides wide open. No, the battle for Suran was not one they would easily win, and Helseth knew that. On the other hand, if it kept Yngling occupied, he wouldn’t be able to create any more disasters.

Next came a message from one of Helseth’s spies. He read it carefully, smiled and cast it aside. Now all that was left was the message of Athyn Sarethi. It was sealed in wax and with the seal of Redoran. Helseth turned it over, looked at it with rapt attention. Somehow he felt this would not contain good news. He removed the seal, opened the letter and read:

King Helseth,

House Redoran hereby officially withdraws its support to the combined war effort aimed against house Telvanni.

Evidence has been presented to us, showing and proving beyond the shadow of a doubt that house Telvanni was not responsible for the death of Councillor Curio, but that in fact one of your guards, on your very order was the murderer. We also have more than sufficient reason to believe you are in some way connected to the disappearance of Councillor Dram Bero.

In light of this evidence, we can no longer take seriously your claims that house Telvanni was behind the murder of lord Nerevar. And therefore, we see no alternative but to withdraw our support.

Starting today until the end of the war, all Redoran territory will be sealed off and neither side may enter, or travel through our lands. Any incursions will be dealt with severely and with deadly force.

Letters stating our conclusions and conditions have been sent to the heads of the great houses.

Sincerely,

Athyn Sarethi
Archmaster of house Redoran

[Burnt Sierra]

Ha!! I sort of suspect his reaction might be a picture

Aah, you're bringing this to life nicely Al. Nice work mate, I am really enjoying this.

[Olen]

Yes its always nice to find more of this ready to read. Its well paced and the pieces are dropping in well. Great stuff.

[milanius]

Recap & breakdown:

1. Telvanni forces include all of Telvanni, Ashlander clans Ahemussa, Zainab and Urshilaku [possibly, although Urshilaku hate everyone?], Annundae vampire clan [presumably boosted by unknown number of 'converts'], about 35% of the house Indoril and remnants of Thieves guild, now operating from new headquarters in Sadriht Mora.

2. Helseth's forces include his loyalist troops, House Hlaalu [for now, but events surrounding Dram Bero might make a rift within it], Camonna Tong, 65% of house Indoril, House Dres and both Mages and Fighters Guild, formidable allies. Dark Brotherhood is not to be forgotten - they are a force, striking from shadows when you least expect them to.

3. Neutral side includes Temple, Armigers, House Redoran, whatever is left of Imperial forces [Ebonheart] and perhaps Morag Tong... perhaps, because I am almost certain they will side with someone, although it might not necessarily be Telvanni.

Are forces involved in conflict ballanced now? If the poor leadership [Ygling] of house Hlaalu remains incompetent, if Fyr and Baladas continue their relentles political campaign during armed conflict and if Morag Tong decides to side themselves with Telvanni, the scales will be tipped in their favor. As for covert operations... Thieves guild, no matter how decimated it is now, can provide excellent support; however, they're easily countered by Cammona, as it was seen earlier - there are competent spies and agents on both sides, capable of striking heavy blows to both sides in conflict.

The war, in the end, will be determined by morale, as always. Whoever has better fighting spirit will prevail, but since both sides aren't 'righteous', by my definition of that word, the next deciding factor is competence. So far, better leadership [in this story] is one that Telvanni have.

[minque]

Breathtaking it is! Just read the installments made during this week and enjoyed them immensly. I'm not trying to speculate or assume things, others do that so well already, I'll just continue to enjoy this remarkble story.

[The Metal Mallet]

I've caught up once again and I must say things are proving to be highly interesting. The way you are weaving all these plots is certainly fascinating especially when it is portrayed in a way that is not difficult to follow and it does not loose focus. Great work!

[Agent Griff]

I can smell a whiff of Joffrey in Helseth. They are both somewhat cruel but Helseth appears to be more calculating, not just mindlessly cruel like Joffrey. Anyway, I liked Sarethi's message to Helseth and I also like the fact that Helseth's conscience is being plagued by the events he witnessed in Balmora. Either that, or the Telvanni Archmagister is playing with his dreams.

[Alexander]

Helseth ripped the letter in two, then ripped it again, and threw it onto his desk. How did they find out? This was maddening; someone was going around messing up all the work Helseth had gone through such lengths to prepare. It was as if he was facing someone who knew what he would do even before he did. It just wasn’t fair. He was the king; people should worship him, help him, obey him, not oppose him.

He sat down in his chair and put his head in his hands, wondering what else could go wrong that day.

He dispatched messages to the heads of Indoril and Dres asking them to come to the palace. Helseth wanted to make sure he could at least still count on them to support him. He also met with a fortunate break. During the course of the day, as he was waiting for the leaders to arrive, two other guests arrived- Sjoring, the Master of the fighters guild and Trebonius Artorius, Arch-mage of the mages guild. Both were there to assure Helseth they were still in full support of him.

The fighters guild had come as no surprise, given that the Camonna Tong owned most of their leaders, but to see the mages guild here, that was a fortunate event. Helseth had no love for Trebonius, a decaying old man who probably hadn’t had a clear day in years. None dared say it to his face though, for the man still wielded undeniable power. Trebonius was no fan of Dunmer, and he resented his superiors in Cyrodiil for ever sending him to Morrowind in the first place, but as much as he disliked the Dunmer in general, and their king specifically, it was nothing compared to the hatred and animosity he had for the Telvanni. And as the saying goes, the enemy of my enemy is my friend.

A herald came in carrying a message from one of Helseth’s spies. He took it and read it, and found his rage rising again, and was just about to curse, when another knock on the door came. The Indoril and Dres leaders had arrived and entered Helseth’s study.

The viceroy started by saying how awful he felt about the Redoran betrayal, and that he would take great pleasure in killing Athyn Sarethi personally after they were through with the Telvanni. And he assured Helseth that house Dres was still firmly behind him. Helseth thought, “You’d better be, after all the money I spent on you,” but of course he only said he was very glad to hear that. Then the Gahprovihn of house Indoril started speaking.

“My king, those Redoran swine will pay for betraying you; house Indoril will stand at the front of the attack on the Telvanni, and we will again prove to be the most loyal of your supporters when we go up against the Redoran. Even as we speak, our men are assaulting Velothi’s Haven to conquer it in your name.”

Helseth interrupted him at that point.

“No, actually your men haven’t even started their march on Velothi’s haven, nor will they.”

The Gahprovihn looked at him with confusion.

“You see, your men from Necrom are no longer even your men. I received a message from one of my spies just before you arrived. Gulvan is sitting at Necrom still, not lifting a single finger to obey your commands, and my spy has even heard him being called Gahprovihn.”

The leader of the Indoril showed fear and stuttered, “But that cannot be! The council removed him from office; he has not been Gahprovihn in 10 years.”

“Well, perhaps you should tell him that.” Helseth’s smile was not friendly at all, unless one considered the smile of a slaughterfish moving in for the kill nice.

“So, what did you say we should do to a traitor’s house? ‘Trample their bones into dust’ wasn’t it? Should I have my friend of the Dres here turn his eye upon the Indoril lands before the Telvanni?”

The Gahprovihn shuddered at the thought; he did not want to face the armies of the Dres, that was for sure.

“My king, please allow us to redeem ourselves. We will march on Necrom and destroy the traitor and all his followers. Please allow us to prove ourselves to you.”

Helseth smiled again; that was all he’d wanted.

“Yes, I will allow you to do so. In fact, we’re all moving on Necrom. This morning another spy brought me word of the Telvanni plans. Necrom is the key to everything. If we take Necrom, the Telvanni will have lost the war. Gentlemen, assemble your armies with all haste, and bring them to the lands to the north of Mournhold. There we will assemble our army and march on Necrom.”

Both the leaders signalled their agreement, bowed and left as fast as their legs could carry them to prepare for battle. After they were gone Helseth found himself wondering how things would go. He’d lost house Redoran, but gained the fighters guild and mages guild. Between the Mages guild mages and the Dres and Indoril wizards, they might just stand a chance against the Telvanni.

He’d lost part of the Indoril, but there were many mercenaries he could hire to replace them. And he should not forget that even though the Telvanni border along the Redoran lands no longer had to be manned, they still had a far larger border to defend than Helseth, and no way of knowing from whence the attack would come. Yes, Helseth considered, I still outnumber them, I know more than them and I will be victorious.

[Alexander]

Chapter 17. The die is cast.

The past few weeks had seen little action, but much tension. The Redoran turning neutral meant almost a quarter of the Telvanni border had been secured with no man lost. Baladas was pleased with that, but knew the war wasn’t nearly over. While Helseth’s army had become smaller, it still outnumbered the Telvanni and their allies 3:1 or even more, not very good odds. Luckily, thanks to the help of Jim Stacey and Eno Hlaalu, the Telvanni leaders were very well informed. Any movement made by Helseth’s army was almost instantly reported to the Telvanni leaders, and so they knew Helseth was massing his army to the northwest of Mournhold. Every day, more men were arriving, heavily armed infantry from House Indoril, lightly armored but very fast and agile spearmen, and mounted giant wasps from house Dres, steel and iron clad infantry from house Hlaalu, cavalry mercenaries from the neighbouring provinces and members of the Fighters and Mages guilds. A mass of men whose numbers were swelling each day.

Divayth had asked Baladas to come to Necrom for a special council of war. They would determine their next course from there. Baladas found himself standing in front of the city, though Necropolis might have been a better description for it. The place was surrounded by very high and very thick walls, but as Baladas entered, what got to him most was the silence. Right behind the gates there was a lot of noise and movement as in any city, but toward the center of Necrom there was almost an absolute silence. This section contained the entrances to the underground tombs, and everyone respected that by keeping silent when they were there.

Unlike some cities, there was no luxurious and lavish looking palace or council hall in Necrom; instead there was a large citadel on the sea side of the city. The citadel was ringed with yet another tall wall and beyond it Baladas could hear the noise of movement. Many Indoril who had chosen the side of the Telvanni had come to Necrom and its villages just beyond, and many of them had looked for and found protection behind Necrom’s high walls. A Dunmer approached Baladas and bid him to follow to the study in the citadel.

Drulvan’s study was very plain- little more then a desk with some chairs in front of it and a conference table. On the table was a large map of Morrowind, and several people surrounded it. At the head of the table he saw the now well-known figure of the man in the black hooded robe; at his right sat Divayth Fyr and at his left the newly chosen Gahprovihn of House Indoril, well, the part that had chosen to side with the Telvanni anyway. Also seated at the table were Dhaunayne Aundae and Endris Dilmyn, the Alt Gahshaldmas of the Indoril.

Baladas was seated opposite the robed Archmagister, and Divayth called the council to order.

“Welcome Baladas., I trust the preparations are in place?”

“Yes Divayth, I’ve made sure a quarter of our Telvanni Wizards are stationed between Ghostgate and Suran, all along the mountains, together with the Vampires. And another quarter are divided over the area between Suran and Tel Branora. And I’ve ordered the remainder and the Ashlanders to come here. What I don’t understand, however, is why. Why here?”

Divayth smiled, “Then I shall explain, Baladas. Look at the map. Thanks to our Redoran friends, we can be sure none shall attack us north of Ghostgate. Now there are only a few possible options for Helseth to take.”

“He can try going at Ghostgate, but that would mean travelling the Foyada Mamaea, which is folly. Crossing into the Molag Amur region that way is folly as well, for it will leave Ghostgate and Suran free to attack his flanks, not to mention having to face Tel Uvirith and all the places where one can ambush someone in there. Moving on any other place on Vvardenfall, like Bal Fell or Tel Branora would require a massive fleet, which he neither has in that area, nor can he move one there. Magic would work, but the Dres and Mages Guild members simply couldn’t manage it even if they wanted to.”

“That leaves the mainland, and especially Necrom as a very likely target. And just to make sure Helseth does not become too creative, I’ve let some word slip of our plans for the Ghostfence. He’ll have no choice but to march on Necrom. And this is where we will crush him.”

“But Magister Divayth, how can we? After leaving our Vampires and most of the Telvanni at Vvardenfall we’ll be outnumbered many times, and the walls of Necrom won’t keep out the flying Dres. While we have divided our forces to cover a large area, Helseth can concentrate on crushing us here, and then defeat the other garrisons at his leisure.

“I realise that it appears that way, Baladas, but put your faith into the Telvanni and our new Archmagister, and I promise you everything will work out for the best.”

Baladas sighed; apparently there was no reasoning with Fyr or any of the others present. Either everyone knew something Baladas didn’t, or they were all willingly heading to their doom.

“Magister Fyr, what would you have me do now?”

Fyr pointed at a location on the map. “Dervon’s Watch, a small city north of Mournhold. That’s where Helseth’s army will likely cross the river. They can’t afford to leave any strong places at their backs if they wish to march on Necrom, so we predict they will start off by securing Dervon’s Watch. I want you to go there, and manage our retreat. Do your best to hold the city for a day at least, more if you can, but unnecessary deaths are to be avoided. Retreat to Salen Vulgate, between there and Dervon’s Watch we’ve constructed a number of defensive positions. Every position will buy us time, hours sometimes, days at other times. After Salen Vulgate falls, retreat back here. Buy us as much time as you can, with as few casualties as possible.”

“As you wish. I will go to Dervon’s Watch with all haste.”

“Good,” said Magister Fyr. “And when you’re once again back here, we will have one final council of war before the battle starts. Good luck to you, Baladas.”

[Agent Griff]

So things have finally started moving. Helseth's army is advancing on Necrom while the Telvanni continue their policy of aggressive defence. It seems Fyr is using hit and run tactics to slow the loyalist forces down while he bides his time in Necrom doing god knows what. I think you shall leave us all surprised when Fyr reveals his ace (which he surely has, otherwise he wouldn't be acting so smug).

[Alexander]

The ensuing week was an exhausting one for Baladas. It was clear to him that stalling was the only thing he could do. Most of the land around Dervon’s Watch was flat- grassland, some farms and the like, sometimes a few hills, but never anything higher. It wasn’t easy to create ambushes in there. Divayth had ordered a number of trenches built straight across the road at several mile intervals. And he’d ordered a number of other surprises as well.

The first few times Helseth’s army came across a trench, they simply stormed it with their mercenary infantry, and sent cavalry to flank it, and after some heavy fighting, Baladas would retreat to the next trench. That continued until the third line of defence. As before, Helseth sent part of his cavalry to flank the line, but Divayth had prepared a number of traps. On the sides of the line, pits had been dug with spikes and snakes in them, and then covered with grass, wood and leaves so no one saw them. The cavalry stormed to the side of the line, and crashed down into the pits. Many of them died. And the infantry already at the trenches were unable to retreat because behind them, separating them from the main forces, a wall of fire suddenly rose up. None of those infantry men made it back alive.

When Baladas’ forces reached Salen Vulgate, he sent word to Necrom that he’d only be able to stall for another day. He’d already won almost a week, so his mission was more than a success. The entire town of Salen Vulgate had been prepared to be a trap. Pits of spikes and snakes were dug all around town, houses were trapped to fall down as soon as someone entered the door, and magical blasts were set to go off as soon as someone entered certain areas. Baladas hoped to kill as many of Helseth’s troops there as in the entire week before. But even then, it would not be enough. Several thousand would be dead, but many thousands more would survive to advance on Necrom. Still, Baladas had his troops provide a brisk defence before retreating from the town near dusk. He wanted Helseth’s army bloodied and weary, so that they would decide to enter Salen Vulgate rather than pursue.

Most of Baladas’ men were halfway to Necrom when he saw a large explosion on the horizon. That was the final surprise of Salen Vulgate; near the end of the city, a magical blast hammered the lead elements of Helseth’s force and also set off other magical traps throughout the city. When he saw it, Baladas knew he’d done everything he could, so he cast a levitation spell and flew onwards, over the heads of his men to Necrom.

Arriving in Necrom, he found Drulvan Vules and the robed Archmagister in conference in Drulvan’s study. “For better or worse, I’ve given us the week you sought. Now I hope you’re ready with some surprises, because otherwise we’re all doomed.”

Drulvan looked at him with a smile and said, “The Archmagister was just telling me that you haven’t been told everything that has been going on. Perhaps you should take the time now to ask those questions you want to ask, before the enemy gets here.”

Baladas thought about that, about how since the start of all of this there had been so many questions and so few answers. Of course, asking too many questions in house Telvanni had, in the past, been a sure way to die young. Even so, Baladas felt he’d had enough- better to die with answers, then live not knowing what was going on.

“I just don’t understand any of this, Drulvan. Why are there so many Indoril willing to join the Telvanni in what appears to be suicide? Why is no one worried about the coming battle? We can’t possibly win against such an army, so why are people choosing to let fully half of the Telvanni and all of the Vampires remain on Vvardenfall when we can use them here? And who is that man, if he even is a man? He’s supposed to be my Archmagister, but I’ve never even seen his face.”

“Many questions, Baladas. I can’t answer all of them, but I can answer some of them. Why did part of the Indoril join with Telvanni? Simple. Helseth would have blamed the death of Crassius Curio on the Telvanni, when we know it was he who was responsible instead. Helseth would also want to have us believe the Telvanni were behind the murder of lord Nerevar. As to that, let’s just say we’ve seen some very convincing evidence to the contrary. And Helseth has said the Telvanni are without honor, which simply isn’t so. You might not know this, but when he was younger, my son was found to be a magic user. Instead of entering house Indoril where the skill might be neglected, he instead choose to join house Telvanni. He entered service with Mistress Therana in Tel Branora, who sent him to Bal Fell to loot it. Things didn’t go exactly as planned as the Mages guild also went there. Just as my son was about to die, lord Nerevar appeared at Bal Fell as a favour to Divayth Fyr, and he sent the Mages guild fleeing. He saved my son’s life and won my service for the rest of my life. Divayth Fyr then went to Tel Branora, killed mistress Therana, and installed Felen Maryon as the new master. My son has been able to prosper. He is now a spellwright for your house and has said often that Master Maryon is one of the most honourable men around.”

“Another example- you’ve seen my Alt Gahshaldmas last time you were here, right? Endris Dilmyn. His brother is a commoner living in Khuul and was influenced by Dagoth Ur; in fact, he became a sleeper. Lord Nerevar killed Dagoth Ur influencing him, and freed him. When he heard it, Endris promised his life to lord Nerevar. Many of the Indoril here either have a similar experience, or believe those who’ve said the Telvanni had nothing to do with the death of lord Nerevar. As to how we know the Telvanni are innocent… well, we’ll come to that later. As to why we’re not as worried as you about the coming battle, let’s just say Helseth’s allies are not all as loyal as they would have him believe. In powerful circles, isn’t everything about connections? Let’s say we know some people, who know some people, who decide where the allegiance lies with some of Helseth’s people. I can’t really elaborate yet, but let’s just say there is truth to some rumors about a certain house’s allegiance.”

“And as to your other question,” Baladas turned to the robed Archmagister. It was a deep voice emanating from underneath the robe, A voice filled with undeniable power and charisma, making it very hard for people to listen and not agree with anything being said. And yet somehow he had a feeling he’d heard the voice before somewhere.

“As to how these men know lord Nerevar was not killed by house Telvanni, the answer is simple. I told them it is not true.”

The robed figure slowly lowered his hood and looked at Baladas. Baladas looked at him, seeing without a doubt the last face he would have expected to see.

“Come,” the Archmagister spoke again, “We have much to discuss, Baladas.”


Baladas left Drulvan’s study that night with a smile on his face and a renewed confidence.

[Alexander]

Two updates tonight you might ask yourself?

Yes, two updates. Thing is, I was looking over things again last night, and the next chapter is the final chapter of Varvur, and the final chapter before the real final chapter of the story.

Now that last chapter has some 14 pages to it, as opposed to the regular 4-5 pages of normal chapters, so the day after tomorrow I can start posting the first parts of that final chapter.

This is just to make things more logical, as it appears to be anyway

[The Metal Mallet]

Ack! The cliffhangers of all cliffhangers! I wanna know who that bloke is!? Damn you! Haha.

Hopefully answers will be found soon. I can't wait to see the conclusion to this.

[Agent Griff]

This is starting to get frustrating. Who in god's name is that robed guy? You tempt us with a juicy steak but in the end you throw us just a bone. Why can't these guys (Baladas, Drulvan et al) just say 'Ah, X, I would never have thought it to be you under those robes!'. I wonder why?

It's a mark of good story-telling however. You've now got me firmly on the edge of my seat, awaiting to see the resolution of these events.

[Alexander]

Chapter 18. Staring into the Halls of Sithis

It wasn’t a very pleasant trip for Varvur. Lucien said very little, and what he did say seemed to be for the sole reason of mocking the young Dunmer. Lucien rode on a steed as black as the night, with eyes as red as Varvur’s. Just looking at the animal would tell you there was something unnatural about it; it was definitely not of this world. The road they were travelling was bland, a standard highway like so many in this province. They were moving south, though Lucien had refused to tell him where they were heading. They had set out at first light, and it was after noon when on the horizon, Varvur saw the tall walls of a city.

“Bravil,” Lucien explained, “the city of Regulus Terentius, who recently boasted to the other nobles of Cyrodiil, of how little crime there was in his city when compared to others. The snob actually thinks it’s because of him that so many thieves are afraid to settle there. If he only knew the real reason.”

Another laugh followed. Much could be said about Lucien, Varvur thought, but none could call him grumpy.
The horse Varvur had ridden was housed in a stable near the gate to Bravil, but he noticed that Lucien did not stable his steed there but rather simply let him loose. Varvur assumed the steed would come back to Lucien whenever he needed it. Upon entering the gate, they turned left and walked a small ways along the outer wall until they reached a very humble looking home, one that looked exactly like all the others. Lucien knocked, in what Varvur thought might have been in a certain way, and the door opened. Inside Varvur saw a Bosmer, who looked so much like Belwen one might have thought he’d come back from the dead. The Bosmer saw him looking and observed,

“Heh, don’t wo’y I ain’t no ghost now, and Belwen ain’t su’vived that swo’d of you’s.”

Belwen was me brother, though Sithis known he was good fe’ nothin.”

This Bosmer was speaking with a terrible accent, Varvur wondered how he could ever go unnoticed.

“The name’s Ungolim, an don’t ye be thinkin of callen me Ungo o’ some so’t. Now then, me lady says you got a question fo’ me? Go ahead, speak boy.”

“Was the Dark Brotherhood behind the attack on lord Nerevar?”

“Yes, if ye’e speakin on the two bungled killin’ attempts.”

Varvur considered that answer. Ungolim must have been trying to evade the question.

“No, I mean are you the ones who poisoned the comberry juice of lord Nerevar and killed him?”

“Eh, sma’t lad. No we didn’t kill ‘im, no’ do we know who did. We t’ied to kill ’im twice, and twice failed, then he kill’d so nea’ly all ou’ men in Mo’’owind, no ‘tis neve’ wise to go afte’ someone th’ice.”

Varvur felt his hope slip away. Why would the Brotherhood lie about such a thing? They would more likely boast at having been able to offer such a splendid soul to Sithis; no it had to be the truth, but then did that mean he had come to Cyrodiil all for nothing, done what he did to Fafnir all for nothing, still with no answer to this mystery? Varvur felt like despairing, but wanted to assure himself he’d gotten all he could from Ungolim before he left again.

“Well, if the Brotherhood is not responsible, then surely you must know who was.”

He saw Ungolim looking at him slyly when he responded. “Aye, sma’t lad. We might know, yes we might. But I can’t tell ye.”

Varvur reached for his blade, determined to draw it and force these two to answer him, but before he could draw, there was a knock on the door. Lucien opened the door and three hooded, robed figures walked in. They all looked at Varvur, and one of them said,

“What is the meaning of this? Who is this, Ungolim, and what is he doing here tonight?”

“Nothin ye need conce’n ye’self with Arquen, o’de’s of the mothe’. You see young master Sarethi,” and all of a sudden every trace of the accent had left Ungolim, “I know not why, but our mother herself has ordered me to take you to her. So in a few hours time, we will go to her.”

Varvur felt foolish; he should have known no one who talked as oddly and recognisably as Ungolim would have been able to reach such an exalted post within an organization like the Dark Brotherhood.

“Will she tell me who killed lord Nerevar?” he asked Ungolim.

“Aye lad, she might, she just might do so.”

Waiting for several hours, in a house together with 5 master assassins, proved to be quite an experience. Just watching their eyes might have been enough to pass the time. He saw Ungolim sit still the entire time; he appeared to be in some sort of trance, his eyes closed and his legs crossed. Lucien had taken a book and sat himself right in front of the door, where he appeared to be reading quietly, but every now and then would look up at either Varvur or at the woman Ungolim had called Arquen. The other two people there, an Altmer and a Khajiit, were quietly speaking to each other in a corner of the room. Varvur noticed them glancing his way from time to time, but not often.

The church clock had just tolled midnight, when Ungolim opened his eyes. “It’s time,” he said. Everyone stood up, and followed Ungolim out the door. Varvur walked right behind Lucien, followed by the three others. They walked back the way they had come into the town, but turned left towards the church. Next to it Varvur saw a statue of what appeared to be an old woman. At the bottom of the statue was a plaque with the name on it, “Lucky Old Lady.” He wondered if this lady would give him luck in finding answers. Ungolim moved to stand in front of the statue, and started chanting in a strange voice. Slowly the statue started to change, the face that had first looked kind, slowly moved to an evil grin, the eyes that had been benevolent were now almost radiating cruelty. And as the statue had completed the change, it moved back a small bit, uncovering an entrance. Ungolim ordered everyone to remain there, saying the mother would only allow himself and Varvur inside, and anyone else trying to enter would die.

[Burnt Sierra]

Wha??!! No, bu... You can't do.... AAARGH!!

You are EVIL Alex. You can't just stop it there! Get back on that computer and update this right now, or I'll....sulk and... sulk some more.

These cliffhangers are killing me, and you're enjoying them far too much.

I'm going to call you Evil Al from now on