Light through Darkness, You asked for it, so here you go. Options

[Acadian]

I very much enjoyed this!

'the moment I mentioned him her ears drooped and her hackles raised slightly,'
How naturally you incorporated this Khajiit-specific description!

The golden rocks of the hinterlands had been all but hidden away by the sea of trees, welcoming me back to the Great Forest. Gargantuan redwoods rose to touch the very heavens, while diminutive saplings were latched in a tense battle for whatever sunlight they could scrounge. Every so often the ocean of green was broken by the yellowing leaves of autumn, adding a painter’s touch to the scene. A cool breeze rustled its way through the canopy, sending the treetops dancing in its joyful bluster. The faint, playful trilling of finches and robins completed the natural symphony.
*Contented sigh* A symphony to make any wood elf glad to be a wood elf! And such a stark contrast with the mortal fight that followed.

I echo the wise readers above in praising how you handled Derelas' reaction to killing the highwayman. If it helps, I'm glad he didn't leave the varmint alive to terrorize more travelers.

[TheOtherRick]

Great stuff!

I like the way the fight scene played out. First he fights the bandit and then himself afterward. A glimpse into an ongoing theme perhaps?

[Thomas Kaira]

@haute ecole rider: Well, you knew he had to die sometime, didn't you? This is a TES fanfic, after all, wouldn't be one without the merciless slaughtering of outlaws. Well, maybe not so merciless here, but you get the idea.

@SubRosa: No, he is not your run-of-the-mill crazy person, he's just a little divided right now, for obvious reasons. The internal monologue was meant to emphasize this. We will eventually figure out who is talking to him (and before you ask, no it is not a Paladin).

@mALX: As the undisputed master of emotions, this means a lot to me coming from you. I'm glad I managed to convey how dramatic a change one's life can make when they take another. I try to avoid death as much as I can here, but occasionally, you just have to take it, and I need to be certain Dere takes it in stride.

@Acadian: Think of that segment as my little way of discussing how death is so easily brushed off in TES, especially Oblivion. This will be a recurring theme throughout the story, dramatic character changes brought on by notable deaths.

@TheOtherRick: I answered your question in the above reply, but will say it again. Notable deaths (and you will know when they happen) will bring about dramatic character changes throughout the story. This was the first, and definitely not the last.

@all: We now enter part 2 of chapter 3, in which Dere's internal conflict continues as he struggles to find a way to deal with his guilty conscience. Will he find an outlet? Read on to find out...

next: We're back in Weye, and about to partake in a couple TES rites of passage.

Chapter 3-2: Red Wine with Fish

The remainder of my journey back to Weye was troubled by sleepless nights. Images of blood spilling from furry necks and flashing blades sauntered through my dreaming mind, making my every attempt to find peace in slumber seem quite foolish. No doubt this was because my soul was in turmoil now that I joined the ranks of the life-takers. My waking hours in Wawnet were as miserable as ever, I again found no peace in my rest, and that haunting red-eyed figure was also beginning to creep his way back into my dreams. The weather matched my mood with a dreary, cloudy day that all but promised rain.

I felt in need of a bit of fresh air, so I made my way outside into the chilly, dreary late morning air. I had been staring out towards the depths of the Lake Rumare for over an hour and had started drizzling lightly when I turned to go back inside when I noticed another person was matching me. It was the old balding fisherman I saw limping back to his hut as I was leaving for Chorrol. He was sitting on an old wooden stool, staring out to the iron-gray waters with that same empty look in his eyes that I knew I was sharing. I moved over to join him.

“You know, stranger,” he began to speak to me when I had come to a stop beside him, though he had not followed my progress or even seemed to notice I was there, “you look like someone who knows what it’s like to have lost a fight. Well, I’ve fought and I’ve lost.”

Despite the questions I had for him, I decided it would be best, and more polite, just to let him finish.

“You see, everyone has their grand enemies, their demons, that try as they might, they just can’t defeat. ‘And who was my great enemy’ you might ask? Well don’t laugh,” he sighed deeply, “it was a bunch of damn fish.”

“I’m not laughing.” I quickly replied, “I saw the fish you caught. One bite from their mouths could cut down a tree.”

“Well, that’s noble of ya,” the fisherman answered back, and it cheered me up a bit to see a bit of depression leave his face. “Everyone else would just guffaw at my face when I told them.”

“So why tell me? You didn’t know if I would do the same.”

“I already told ya, you looked like someone who knew what it was like to lose a fight.”

“Well, actually, I’m just fighting a guilty conscience right now,” I answered simply.

“Oh,” the fisherman replied, looking crestfallen, “right.” He then turned away, back to staring out over the lake. Way to go, Dere, someone was looking for reaffirmation that he wasn’t alone in his misery and you just told him up front you weren’t the right kind of guy. Now that you’ve just shown the world how not to do it, maybe you might find it in your blackening, murderous heart to help the poor guy?

“What do you need help with?” I suddenly voiced. I hadn’t meant to speak yet, but I was just happy to at least try and salvage the situation. The fisherman was a bit taken aback by the sudden response, but seemed a bit less depressed nonetheless.

“You’d help an old man find some peace? That’s mighty kind of ya’,” He replied, “Name’s Aelwin Merowald, by the way.”

“Derelas,” I returned, “So, umm… is there anything I can help you out with? Something to make you feel better?” Something to make me feel better, I finished inside my head.

“Well, if you would, I was tryin’ to catch Rumare Slaughterfish for this young alchemist down the way of Skingrad,” Aelwin began, “he was payin’ me a shiny septim for their scales, see? And it was going so well until last week, when one of those bloody things damn near took my leg off.

“Anyways,” he continued, “I only needed a couple more of the buggers before I would’ve had enough saved up to retire, but I can’t well fish on this bum leg o’ mine, now can I?”

“So you’d like it if I could go and catch the rest,” I finished.

“Aye, that’d be mighty decent of ya’,” Aelwin replied, the shadow of a smile crossing his grim features, “I only need about two or three more and I can scale ‘em myself, so I just need ya’ to catch ‘em. Lemme show ya’ to my fishing gear, then I’ll meet you down by the lakeshore. I may not be able to fish, but at least I can still walk.”




----




“Thank you so much. Let it never be said there are no kind souls in the world.”

I had instantly regretted offering my help when I pulled the first fish out of the water. By the Gods, was that net made of steel for a good reason! The fish was huge, and I if I wasn’t so engrossed in getting that thing tossed on the beach and imprisoned in the steel net, I would have been wondering how it managed to fit all those dagger-sized teeth into that maw. My own legs came mighty close to meeting the same fate as Aelwin’s several times, and my forearms now bore many scratches and cuts from the nashing teeth. My hands were caked in blood from the bait, as well; by the arduous smell I decided it was some form of rotting venison. I don’t think it would be possible to express how relieved I was by the time it was all over. I sure do hope Aelwin appreciates the effort I put into getting him these two miniature sharks.

“Will that be enough? It’s getting a bit late.” I inquired, dipping my hands into the frigid lake water to wash the blood off.

“Aye, that’ll be plenty,” Aelwin replied, “I’ll scale ‘em here, don’t want to make a mess in the village, or stink it up, for that matter. Anyways, come on over here, I got something for you.”

I obliged his request, curious as to what he had in store for me. Once I was close enough, he reached into his pocket and pulled out… a ring.

“I want you to have this,” He told me, handing me the glinting silver band. On closer inspection, I saw it had a sapphire jewel cut to the shape of a drop of water. “This was a good luck charm o’ mine. I don’t have much need for it anymore, seeing as my fishing days are done, so I might as well give it to you. My way of saying thanks for all your help.”

“You’re quite welcome,” I replied, surprised and slightly moved that he wasn’t expecting me to help him out of the kindness of my heart. It was just enough to drive me to put it on. “Thank you for your generous gift. You sure you can make it back on your own?”

“Don’t mention it,” Aelwin said, “and don’t worry about me, I know my way home, and I’m not taking the fish with me anyways. Speaking of which, you are welcome inside any time, friend. I hope I’ll see you again someday.”

“As do I,” I said as a way of good-bye. I couldn’t turn my eyes away from the jewel that now rested on my finger. Helping that poor man and seeing the bright, happy look on his face at the end had given me solace. I felt more whole, as opposed to the last several days when I was as divided as any man could be. I’m doubtful I would ever be that kind of innocent again now that I had tasted blood, but it did make me feel much better knowing I still meant well.

“Well, don’t you seem awfully chipper,” I was greeted by the Wawnet publican as I returned inside. It was much quieter tonight than it was when I was last here, there were only two tables taken, and only one had more than one tankard in front of them. “When you arrived last night, you were a right mess of emotions. Glad to see you found a way to let them out, it’s not healthy to keep them all bottled up like that.”

“So am I,” I responded, taking a seat at the bar so that I could continue speaking with her.

“Well, anyways, what can I get you tonight?”

“Same as last night, I think.”

The publican quickly busied herself with the cooking fire. I noticed her movements were well practiced and quite graceful, as if she were dancing with the flames.

“I know you must get this a lot, but you are quite a beautiful woman,” I couldn’t help myself but to say. Her golden-skinned neck turned slightly pinker in response.

“Well, you’re definitely not the first to say that, but you certainly are the first to say so politely,” she replied, flashing a small smile my way. “Most of the time, all I get is ‘baby, you’re not the only thing that’s tall in here right now…’”

“And don’t you forget that!” Came a drunken shout from behind me, followed by roaring laughter. The publican shook her head without even looking back at them.

“Ingrates,” she muttered reproachfully, “well, as I was saying, it is nice to hear that from an honorable, sober person from time to time.”

“How do you live with it?” I inquired.

“I learned a long time ago,” she replied, but chose not to say any more. Her answer didn’t surprise me one bit, I’ve learned that plenty of women like their secrets.

She handed me my plate of braised veal shank “Osso Bucco” and waited for me to take my first bite before continuing.

“I’m Nerussa,” she told me as she returned to wiping down goblets and tankards.

“Derelas,” I returned, “this is very good, by the way.”

“Thank you,” she replied, “would you like a goblet of wine with that? It blends quite well with the Surilie Merlot 421 and Tamika’s Vintage Cabernet 407.”

“Well, you seem to know your wines,” I answered. I wasn’t expecting that a small town inn would carry such a wide, and expensive, range. “I’m not sure I could afford those right now, unfortunately.”

“Well, at least have a taste,” she encouraged, placing a clay goblet next to my plate and showing me one of the bottles, “that’s only a couple drakes.”

Okay, then, I’ll bite. I responded in affirmation, leaving the silver on the bar. She quickly scooped the coins away and uncorked the Surilie bottle with such well practiced movements I wouldn’t have been surprised if she had done it all her life. She then poured a small amount into the goblet, and handed it to me. I gave the goblet a quick stir, allowing the smoky aroma to escape, and brought it to my lips…

The subtleties of black cherries and a hint of olive danced across my palate, invigorating the flavors of tomato and onion and bringing all the delicate nuances of the rich sauce to the tip of my tongue. This was contrasted by the bold plum of the Tamika’s, which also contained a strange k’lah-like flavor, but tangier and richer, and that wine caused all the delicate flavors of the meat to explode through their natural veils and left my palate with a rich, invigorated feeling like nothing I could ever describe.

“Pretty good?” Nerussa asked, grinning with satisfaction and curiosity.

“Words can’t even to describe them,” I replied, “What was that flavor in the Tamika’s? I’ve never tasted anything quite like it before.”

“Ahh, yes, you and a lot of other people,” Nerussa answered, recorking the bottles and putting them back beneath the bar, “it’s cocoa. It comes from Summerset, and costs quite a sum to export, so you would be looking at a Septim a goblet for that one.”

I nearly gagged on my food when I heard the cost.

“Seriously?”

“The bottle itself is worth five,” she filled in, sending my head reeling.

“Wow, you really do love your wine,” I nearly stammered, it took a lot more effort to keep my voice straight than I thought it would.

“Well, I guess you could say that,” Nerussa replied airily, then her gaze quickly shifted behind me. “Alright, you three have had QUITE enough!” She shouted, making me jump.

Her words were met by a raucous whooping, and I turned around to see one of the guests was dancing around on the table minus his shirt, scattering plates and tankards all over the floor. I would hazard a guess that he was thinking that he was showing off his manliness to Nerussa, but it was hard to tell. I then noticed movement in the corner of my eye and saw a muscular Imperial in dark clothes march up to the table and direct the guests out.

“I didn’t see that guy last time I was here,” I told Nerussa, hoping she might shed some light on him.

“Oh, he’s my new bouncer,” she answered, turning back to cleaning her dishes, “It was actually that fight you witnessed that told me I needed one, so there you go. He’s helped quite a bit with getting some of the guests here under control, but you still get people like them from time to time.”

“I see,” I acknowledged before swinging the topic back, “so you were saying that you loved wine?”

“Oh, yes, I do,” she said, a faint blush creeping into her full cheeks, “I’ve held a burning passion for wine all my life. Ever since I opened the inn here, it’s nearly all I’ve been spending my earnings on. I have almost every wine you could imagine right here under this roof, including some classics that date all the way back to the Interregnum. But there’s one kind that’s always eluded me no matter how hard I looked.”

“And which was that?” I asked, my curiosity once again perked.

“It’s an ancient vintage called Shadowbanish. It’s incredibly rare because the vintner only produced one small batch before they disappeared. No one knows what happened to the vineyard, but a few bottles of Shadowbanish are rumored to still exist, and I’ve been dying to get my hands on some.”

“Well, I am planning on a lot of traveling in the near future,” I mused aloud, finishing the last of my dinner, “so I’ll be sure to remember you if I find some.”

“You would do that? You barely even know me,” Nerussa replied bemusedly, making me realize she had been talking more to herself than anyone else. She quickly recovered her poise, though, and gave me a stunning smile in response.

“You are very kind to offer. If you do find some, I would pay you handsomely for each bottle you find.”

I smiled back, but couldn’t really say much else but thank her for the meal and her time before I retired upstairs; the look on her face had stolen all the words from my tongue. Once I shut the door, I fell to the bed with an elated feeling in my heart, like I had finally found myself again.

That’s the spirit, the familiar nagging voice of my subconscious replied. This gave me another, stranger feeling that soon, we were going to become very close.

This post has been edited by Thomas Kaira: Feb 2 2011, 10:12 PM

[haute ecole rider]

“Most of the time, all I get is ‘baby, you’re not the only thing that’s tall in here right now…’”

“And don’t you forget that!” Came a drunken shout from behind me, followed by roaring laughter. The publican shook her head without even looking back at them.

A nice summation of the Go Fish quest. Deciding which quests you want to skim over and which ones you want to make your own is an ongoing challenge, and I think you did well with this. The segue into the Shadowbanish quest was so smoothly done, I found myself enjoying this version of Nerussa as much as the Nerussa of the TF!

This gave me another, stranger feeling that soon, we were going to become very close.

I've noticed that my female PC's get that from female NPC's all the time! WTF?

[mALX]

WOO HOO! Acadian is going to have a field day with all the descriptive meals in your story!!

Your attention to detail and description gave this chapter such an immersive feel! Awesome write!! Dere has so much depth as a character, the reader is left with a lingering sensation of his mood and emotions at the end of each chapter. You have a knack for writing memorable characters that matches SubRosa's, and I love how you have portrayed Nerussa! Hugely satisfying chapter !!

[SubRosa]

Something to make me feel better, I finished inside my head.
Very well put! Often acts of altruism are just attempts to assuage a guilty conscience.

I only need about two or three more and I can scale ‘em myself
That's all! That lousy fetcher made me get him twelve!

I noticed her movements were well practiced and quite graceful, as if she were dancing with the flames.
This was well put!

including some classics that date all the way back to the Interregnum
What's this, a bottle of 400 year old Flin that Pappy has not yet stolen!

All in all a good, relatively quiet episode where Derelas can get himself back on an even keel once more.

nits:
“Stellar{,} can’t even to describe them,”
I think you meant for a comma where I inserted one above.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Feb 2 2011, 10:35 PM

[TheOtherRick]

Most of what I would say has already been said, but at the risk of repeating....what an excellent job of having Dere deal with his guilt.

Great installment!

[Acadian]

A wonderful set up for both these quests, making it perfectly natural that Derelas would want to do them both.

'The subtleties of black cherries and a hint of olive danced across my palate, invigorating the flavors of tomato and onion and bringing all the delicate nuances of the rich sauce to the tip of my tongue. This was contrasted by the bold plum of the Tamika’s, which also contained a strange k’lah-like flavor, but tangier and richer, and that wine caused all the delicate flavors of the meat to explode through their natural veils and left my palate with a rich, invigorated feeling like nothing I could ever describe.'
Methinks TK has been talking to Derelas about all his quilliarie culonary, kwilinery, um chow expertise! Yum!

Very nice job with Nerussa and, as said above, delightful segue into her quest.

Fun to read and tells us more about Derelas.

[Thomas Kaira]

@naughty haute: The main reason I skimmed over the quest in the fic is the same reason I skimmed over it in the game. How could I possibly explain fishing in the form of waving a sharp metal stick at a swimming mouth of teeth while underwater? The quest made absolutely no sense at all, therefore I hook into it, I make it done, I briefly explain how, and that's that.

@mALX: Kind words indeed! Thank you for that!

@SubRosa: Better make sure Pappy isn't reading this, then.
As for your nit, there was never supposed to be a comma in that sentence, so I've reworded it slightly to make that seem more apparent.

@TheOtherRick: Thank you.

@Acadian: How would you like my personal Osso Bucco recipe? (sent you a PM). Quill-canary is my specialty, after all!

@all: as you may have noticed, now that I have set up the main characters and made you like them, things are getting darker now. This will continue, as this story is planned to follow a basic three-act arc.

next:We arrive at the Cheydinhal guild, and deal with a certain corrupted magister...

Chapter 3-3: Falcar

“Yes, is there some astoundingly important reason for you to waste my time, Associate?”

The venom in the Altmer’s voice was palpable. I had finally arrived in Cheydinhal after four more days on the road. I was tired, my feet ached, and so did my back from lugging this rucksack around. The last thing I needed right now was another Altmer so full of himself that if he took one more breath of hot air he’d be floating.

“Sorry to intrude, Magister, I just wanted to ask if you have any Recommendation tasks available,” I replied, struggling to keep my bubbling temper under control.

“You?” The Magister scoffed, “If I were to give Recommendations to just anyone, some worthless Associate like yourself could go and blow up the Arena! What makes you think you’re worthy of a recommendation from me?” His words stung, and I now found myself fighting a strong urge to put my fist into his overbearing face.

“Falcar!” A voice cried out indignantly, carrying the telltale hiss of Argonian. The Altmer in front of me then shut his eyes tightly in exasperation.

“Fine,” He then answered, opening his eyes, “because Deetsan is so insistent, I might have something for you. I need you to go round the back of the guild hall and retrieve a ring of mine from inside the well.”

“How did it get down there?” I asked.

“You are talking when I am talking, Associate; do I look like I have time to deal with your insipid queries? Just bring that ring back, and I’ll consider your request.”

Why did I find that so hard to believe? Was it the excessively self-righteous attitude, or perhaps that he seemed to treat everyone around him as a noble would a beggar? It was hard for me to tell, but what I did know was that I didn’t last five minutes with this guy without coming to hate his guts. Perhaps he would warm up in the end, though, like Teekeus did? I figured it was worth a shot.

“Ah, you’re learning, good,” Falcar’s gratingly proud voice shook me out of my thoughts. Apparently he had confused my silence for assent, which only served to make me dislike him even more. “Now, since Deetsan seems to have taken a fancy to you, she’ll provide you with whatever assistance you may need. Now leave me be, I have far more important things to do than chat with you right now.” With that, he turned on his heel and disappeared through the basement door.

Deetsan, as it turned out, was indeed Argonian. She had a look in her eyes I could just make out to be concern, and perhaps a fleck of anger, as I walked over to the small desk she was sitting at.

“I’m sorry you had to be welcomed to our guild that way, Associate. Falcar can be quite unfriendly to our newer members at times,” she explained to me, gesturing to a chair beside her.

“I noticed,” I replied, taking the empty seat before continuing, “he said you’d be able to help me with his task.”

“It depends on what he told you to do,” Deetsan answered. I proceeded to explain his request.

“…so, I don’t really know why he thinks I would need any help for that, but…”

“Stop,” Deetsan’s hissing voice broke the air like a cracking whip, but it was not a low hiss of anger… it was high-pitched. Was that fear? “Don’t tell me he gave you the same task he gave Vidkun!”

“What? What happened to Vidkin?” I asked. This was getting more and more ominous with every passing minute. When I first entered the guild hall the tension in the air was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Deetsan also looked genuinely afraid in the brief glance I caught of her after her outburst over Falcar’s bullying me. I already knew very well that he preferred the iron fist approach to running things, but there was something else to him, something that made my neck hairs stand on end whenever I looked at him.

“Nobody knows,” Deetsan replied to my question, “All we do know is that Falcar asked him to do the same thing he just asked you to do, and we never saw him again.”

“So I take it I should be extra careful when investigating that well?”

“No, I’m suggesting you don’t do anything, at least, not until I’ve spoken to Falcar,” Deetsan replied heatedly. “The risk to your life is too great.”

I had to admit, she had a point. If the task I had now resulted in the disappearance of another mage, it might not be a very good idea to just jump into that well and go searching for the ring.

“Hang on…” Deetsan suddenly chimed, “let me see that ring on your finger.”

“What, this?” I asked pulling off the silver ring Aelwin gave me, “It was a gift from a fisherman down the way of Weye. What’s so important about it?”

Deetsan didn’t reply immediately, she was deeply concentrated on the ring… which I noticed was now glowing. There must be more to the thing than being just a simple memento. When Deetsan finally looked back up at me, she wore an expression of shocked amazement.

“Why didn’t you tell me this ring allows you to breathe underwater?” She inquired indignantly.

“Seriously? I didn’t know anything about that, how did you find out?”

“I’m Argonian, I know my water breathing quite well,” Deetsan replied, handing the ring back to me. “Well, this changes everything. I’m going to go have a chat with Falcar over how he treated you. Since there’s no danger to you down in that well anymore, I’d like you to go down there and investigate.” She then reached into her pocket, pulled a small key off of a key ring, and handed it to me. “If you find the ring, please bring it back, and if you find Vidkun…” she turned away, a very uneasy look in her eye, “… just let me know, okay?”




----




Okay, Deetsan, just be calm, keep a straight head, and everything will be fine… I think.

Deetsan had pondered everything she wished to say down to the last word on her way downstairs, so why did she now find it so difficult to knock on his door? Every time she tried to stand up to him, her courage faltered every single time she reached this very spot, and it was now, too.

Stay calm, keep your scales straight.

But what will he do to me when he finds out what I want to say? It wouldn’t be the first time he exploded, and there’s no doubt he will now.

Courage, Deetsan, remember courage. Your conviction cannot be shattered by his fists.

Okay, I’m ready now, she thought. She moved her fist over the door, and rapped it thrice.

“I do hope this is important enough to be worth your interruption…” Falcar’s voice rang through the cracks in the wooden paneling of the doorframe as his footsteps grew closer. The force with which he threw it open nearly made her flinch, but Deetsan quickly recovered herself.

“Oh, it’s you,” Falcar stated bluntly, but looking no less irritated, “well, what is it?”

“You treated that poor Associate back there very roughly, just now,” Deetsan began, hoping to the Gods that he would not notice the rehearsed quality of her voice.

“So?” Falcar countered, “They need to be set off on the right foot, you know. Being a member of this guild is no small matter.”

“Yes, but…” Deetsan tried to begin, but Falcar quickly cut her off.

“That is all,” Falcar concluded, waving his hand in dismissal. “If this is all you wish to discuss, it’s not worth my time.”

“Well then make it worth your time,” Deetsan boldly replied, her voice now a low hiss of anger. “You are driving people away from us with your attitude…” she had a lot more to say at this point, but Falcar quickly cut her off.

“Now you listen here,” he said, his voice rising, “I’m am the Magister here, so what I say goes! I don’t give scamp’s claw what you think, I’ll run this place the way I see fit; clear?!”

“Well, turns out I do have a problem with your leadership,” Deetsan argued back, abandoning pretence and allowing the many years of seething hatred for this overbearing dictator to come forth, “Why is it you punish anyone who sets one toe out of line as severely as you do?! Why do you persistently ignore the needs of our lesser members, who are the very life blood of this guild?!”

“BE SILENT!” Falcar roared, “I will not tolerate such behavior under my watch! Leave now, and hope I don’t have you thrown out of this guild for good!”

“You should have reported Vidkun’s disappearance to the council, you monster,” Deetsan found her voice was shaking now, “I should’ve turned you in the moment you tried to pretend it never happened.”

Falcar proceeded to turn very red. “Oh, I see…” Falcar began, his voice crackling with electricity, “…so you are going play it that way, then.”

He then silently walked up to Deetsan… and slammed his fist into her chest.

“YOU… INSOLENT… LITTLE… TADPOLE!” He raged, accenting every word with as strong a punch as he could muster. “You have no idea what you are getting yourself into! Your precious Guild will not stand to see the light of day without me! You’re days are numbered, you know!”

He then threw the winded and utterly shocked Argonian to the ground, “You have no idea what you’ve just unleashed, mark my words!” With that, he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. He left Deetsan on the floor clutching her stomach, breathing heavily, and her face shining with tears.

This post has been edited by Thomas Kaira: Feb 6 2011, 05:11 AM

[mALX]

You?” The Magister scoffed, “If I were to give Recommendations to just anyone, some worthless Associate like yourself could go and blow up the Arena!

SPEW !!!! How could I not love THAT line?? AWESOME the way you slid that in there !!!

I’m Argonian, I know my water breathing quite well,” Deetsan replied, handing the ring back to me

How perfect a detail that is - and apropos !!!

Stay calm, keep your scales straight.

ROFL !!!



OMG ... WHEW! I couldn't breathe while reading the last three paragraphs!!! That was so powerfully done that it left me shaken!!! HUGE ending, Thomas Kaira - Huge, Awesome write !!!

[Acadian]

Two distinct scenes, and both very enjoyable.

* Scene 1

“If I were to give Recommendations to just anyone, some worthless Associate like yourself could go and blow up the Arena!'
No worries. I think he is referring only to she-Khajiit. . . with white fur and red hair. . . .

“Falcar!” A voice cried out indignantly, carrying the telltale hiss of Argonian. The Altmer in front of me then shut his eyes tightly in exasperation.'
I found this wonderful, and so easy to visualize Falcar closing his eyes.

“I’m Argonian, I know my water breathing quite well,” Deetsan replied, handing the ring back to me.'
I loved this! And ahah! I see now why you lingered in Weye to go fishing.

* Scene 2

I'm glad you showed us this scene. In the game Deetsan sort of tells you about having the confrontation whilst you were floundering in the well, but to actually see it from Deetan's perspective was a treat!

[SubRosa]

“Yes, is there some astoundingly important reason for you to waste my time, Associate?”
Right off the bat you etch Falcar firmly in our minds! Excellent!

another Altmer so full of himself that if he took one more breath of hot air he’d be floating.


keep your scales straight.
A wonderful setting-friendly phrase!

The following scene with Deetsan and Falcar was fantastic! Like Acadian said, we always see it referred to, but never actually get to be a fly on the wall as it happens. Very cool, and very ominous! You really make Falcar seem much more villainous than he is in the game.

nits:
Deetsan didn’t reply immediately, she was deeply concentrated on the ring… which I noticed was now glowing. There must be more to the thing than being just a simple memento. When Deetsan finally looked back up at me, she wore an expression of shocked amazement.
“Why didn’t you tell me this ring allows you to breathe underwater?” She inquired indignantly.
The hungry forum ate the space between your paragraphs. The moderators really need to feed it more often...

[haute ecole rider]

I agree with the others, the second part told from Deetsan's POV is very powerful stuff. It really brings home the nastiness that is Master Falcar.

Too bad Julian wasn't standing behind Deestan during this confrontation. Would Falcar have dared to treat her like that with a former pilus watching? There is no question in my mind that had he done that in front of Julian, superior or no superior, she would have stepped in. That is the impact the scene you wrote had on me.

Good Job!

[Captain Hammer]

And, another Oblivion-centric fanfic I'm finally caught up on. Glad to have done so, as I find myself oddly fascinated by Derelas. His handling of the situation in Chorrol, the people watching him, his interactions with Sera Dresdan...

I particularly enjoyed his reaction to finding out that his new ring is enchanted. Perfect for those deep sea dives, or convincing a particularly aquatic Argonian to train a person in Alteration.

[Thomas Kaira]

@mALX: Yup, there indeed be another plug at the misadventures of Maxical in here. Your kitty is one of the many inspirations to this story, and one of the reasons it continues.

@Acadian: I was actually struggling a bit with how I was going to write that segment, I just didn't know how I could add my own twist to the Falcar quest. Then I thought, "what if we could actually see what happened down there while you were blubbering away?" I then finally had my outline.

@SubRosa: My goal was to have Falcar be your generic villainous arsehole, so I'm glad I got that across.

@haute ecole rider: If only Julian was there...

@Captain Hammer: Welcome, and glad you find the characters endearing, O' good nemesis of Dr. Horrible!

@all:I'd just like to get this out of the way, I am adjusting the lore pertaining to the East Empire Company in this segment. In the game, the company folded after the disaster at Raven Rock, but I'm changing that. Instead, Carnius got fired for corruption and embezzlement and the company sustained heavy losses after Raven Rock went busto. They are compensating by raising tariffs on Morrowind goods. It just didn't seem completely realistic that a company with as much wealth and influence as the East Empire Company would be allowed to just die.

next: Derelas returns from beneath the well, and discovers the immediate fallout of Falcar's dramatic exit...

Chapter 3-3: The Burden of Proof

“What in the name of Arkay are you doing down there?”

The voice of an Imperial rang downwards into my ears, echoing off the damp stone walls.

“Trying… to get… out… of this… thing.” I replied through gritted teeth. Every pull of my arms caused my muscles to scream in protest as if I had an anvil tied around my waist. I had found Falcar’s ring; turns out it was enchanted to make it that much heavier. It also turned out Vidkun had found it too… it was a sight I would rather not see again in my life. His body was pinned to the ground by the ring in his pocket, his arms and legs dangling feebly upwards in a ghostly shadow what was once a once desperate struggle for air. I reached upwards for the next rung on the slippery ladder… but felt my hand slip on the moist metal. Next thing I knew, I had fallen back into the water with a tremendous splash. Thank the Gods Aelwin’s ring worked… I had swallowed quite a bit of it.

“You alright?” The Imperial guard’s voice rang downwards once again.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I called back upwards, my voice heavy with aggravation now that I had to start that blasted climb all over again.




----




As I finally reached the lip of the stone wall, I removed the ring from my pocket and, with immense difficulty, tossed it over the side to ease my burden. It fell with a loud *CLANG* followed by an indignant “Ow!” I had dropped it on the guard’s foot.

“What exactly is that thing made of?” He asked incredulously, kicking the ring off his steel boot with difficulty.

“Brass, I think,” I replied simply, fighting for breath after finally escaping from the well’s depths, “but it’s been enchanted to make it incredibly heavy.”

“I’ll say,” the guard replied bemusedly, rubbing at a brand new dent, “that’s the first time anyone’s managed to stub my toe in these boots. Anyways, would you mind telling me what you were doing down there? It’s dangerous to go swimming in the wells, you know; you could’ve drowned.”

“And it’s thanks to this ring I didn’t, actually,” I countered, holding my left hand up to show him Aelwin’s ring. “Anyways, I think you should know there’s a body in there. He looked like a Nord, went by the name of Vidkun.”

“Come again?” The guard asked, “There’s a body down there?”

“Yes, like I said, his name is Vidkun,” I repeated.

“No wonder the water’s been tasting funny recently…” the guard mumbled. I made a silent note to thank him for giving me a very good reason never to drink anything offered in this town ever again.

“He drowned trying to obtain this ring,” I quickly continued, pointing to the brass loop now twinkling innocently in the midday sun, “and I believe it was the intention of the person who asked me to find it that I follow the same fate….”

“Murder is a very serious accusation, citizen, and not one you should throw around lightly,” the guard cut me off in a rather pompous manner, “I trust you have the evidence to back it?”

Let’s see, there was the fact that the ring was so heavy it kept Vidkun rooted to the floor of the well, completely helpless. Then there was the fact Falcar didn’t even bother to warn me about the ring’s nature; in fact, he didn’t even bother to tell me anything about Vidkun’s disappearance at all. I think I had all the all the evidence I needed, with one exception.

“I might,” I replied once I finished gathering my thoughts, “we just need to get this ring back to the Mages Guild. If my suspicions are true, Falcar has a lot to answer for.”

“I’d better come with you, then,” the guard added, “If you’re right, we best end this as soon as possible.”

And if I’m wrong, less distance for you to travel to reprimand me, I finished in my head.

“Fine,” I finished, heaving the ring into my hands with a grunt.




----




“By the Gods, what happened to you, ma’am?!” The guard cried out as Deetsan opened the door. Her appearance was shocking, one of her eyes was swollen half shut and she was clutching at her ribs.

“It was Falcar,” she replied simply, confirming every suspicion in my mind. “He attacked me. He also killed one of our members and just tried to kill this one,” she finished indicating me. I noticed the guard’s gaze turning towards me. Told you so, I thought.

“I’ll inform the city watch to keep an eye out for him,” the guard quickly recited, “If he’s anywhere around here, we’ll find him.” With that, he hurried off, his boots clanking loudly on the paving stones. Deetsan closed the doors behind me as I returned inside.

“What should I do with this thing?” I quickly asked her, indicating the ring that was now threatening to tear a hole in my hands.

“Oh, just drop it anywhere,” Deetsan replied, “I don’t think Falcar really cared about it, it was probably some sort of sick joke on his part.”

I quickly let the ring go with a sigh. It made an incredible thud when it hit the stone floor and caused an Altmer woman to look up, startled, from her potion brewing.

“Vidkun’s dead,” I told Deetsan. Best get the bad news over with now. Deetsan responded by dropping her gaze and shaking her head. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, I just knew this had happened,” she began, her voice a low hiss of anger, “I should’ve known better than to keep my mouth shut about all this. I should’ve reported Falcar when I had the chance! How could I let this happen under my nose?”

She then made a lengthy pause, which I felt would be best not to break, before turning back to face me.

“I take it your talk with Falcar didn’t go very well?” I inquired once I felt she had straightened herself out. “You look like you’re in a lot of pain.”

“Just my pride,” Deetsan brushed off, unconvincingly clutching at her ribs at the same time, “but no, it didn’t. He just dismissed me like he always does… at least until I threatened to report him to the council for covering up Vidkun’s death,” she broke her gaze with mine, and I noticed her voice was getting higher and starting to shake, “I thought he was going to kill me, he got so angry! I couldn’t even understand most of his ranting, all I could tell was that he screamed that our days were numbered and then he stormed out.”

I shook my head incredulously. It was hard to believe how horrible a person could be sometimes. Killing a highwayman to preserve your own life pales in comparison to trying to murder someone in cold blood… and succeeding. This trip to Cheydinhal was nothing if not gruesomely enlightening.

“Anyways, I don’t think he ever intended to write your recommendation, Associate,” Deetsan then continued, breaking the brief silence, “I am deeply sorry you had to get caught up in the middle of this, but thank you for your help in bringing his crimes to light.”

“It was my pleasure,” I replied, “and I’m sorry about Vidkin.”

“Yes, it’s such a shame,” Deetsan answered quietly, her gaze dropping to the floor once again, “he didn’t deserve to die like that. But, no use crying over it now, it happened and there’s nothing we can do about it.”

“Anyways, with Falcar gone, that leaves me in charge of things here,” Deetsan then revealed to me, “so, if I say so myself, I think you’ve more than earned a recommendation from me.”

“Well, thank you very much, but are you sure the council will acknowledge it?” I asked, handing her the parchment slip that now contained Teekeus’ signature.

“Well, I do need to get a report written up for them about what happened here, so I’m sure they will,” Deetsan answered, grabbing a nearby quill and inkpot. “Now, I have enough time to give you a quick tour of the guild before I have to get to work, so let’s not waste time.”




----




“…and this is the basement level. We have some extra public beds in that room over there in case you need them,” Deetsan indicated a small wooden door opposite the entry stairwell, “and over there is the Magister’s quarters.”

“Falcar’s quarters,” I added, suppressing a cringe.

“Well, they technically belong to me now, but yes, that is where Falcar slept.” Deetsan replied, though I had the feeling it would be quite a while before she slept in the same bed as he did after what happened today.

The guild hall was actually rather small, at least smaller than the one in Chorrol. The building was constructed of plastered stone and lined with rosewood, with hard oak floors upstairs and tiled floors downstairs. The ground floor contained several desks in alcoves for private studies, as well as an alchemy booth with several tools an apparatuses. The female Altmer, Eilonwy, whom I had startled when I returned with Falcar’s ring, was still engrossed in her potions there when Deetsan introduced me to her. Next to the stairwell leading to the upper floor was the dining room, which at this point contained several bowls of fresh fruit, including some very strange berries.

“They’re called Comberries,” Deetsan replied when I asked her about them, “they come imported from Morrowind. They’re very popular here in Cheydinhal because of how close to the province we are, though they are a bit expensive thanks to all the tariffs the East Empire Company imposes on them.”

Upstairs was the community dormitory, where I was greeted by a Redguard named Trayvond as I entered. Another High Elf named Orintur was studying in a corner of the room. Most of the windows in the building also opened up to this floor, providing ample light by which to read by, as well as helping to mask the relatively small size of the hall in comparison to the number of people dwelling inside.

“So, that’s about it. It’s not much, but it’s served us quite well over the years,” Deetsan concluded once she had shown me the basement bedroom. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get started on that report.”

“Do you want someone to clear out Falcar’s things?” I offered. “You know, since he’s obviously not going to be coming back?”

“If you wish to do so, Associate, feel free, but I really do need to get started on that report,” Deetsan finished, closing the basement door behind her with a snap on the way back up.

Falcar didn’t keep much inside his room, just a few changes of clothes in the wardrobe and a couple potions on his desk, but I quickly found myself puzzled by a rather innocent chest of drawers being locked tightly shut. Was Falcar trying to hide something in there? Too bad I didn’t have any lockpicks, I thought, so I guess I’ll need to find the key… if he didn’t take it with him, that is. I decided it might be worth a shot to try under the dresser, though in all likelihood it wasn’t there.

Nope, nothing. Besides, that would’ve been too easy and predictable. Well, maybe I’m just being paranoid, I thought to myself as I flopped down on the bed, he probably was just your run-of-the-mill fetcher who… wait… where is that clinking sound coming from? I quickly sat back up and lifted the pillow I was resting my head on… and there it was; a plain brass key. I quickly snatched it up, thrust it into the dresser’s lock, and was greeted by a satisfying click as I turned it. Now, let’s see what you’ve been hiding in here, Falcar….

This post has been edited by Thomas Kaira: Feb 9 2011, 03:22 AM

[SubRosa]

I agree that it seems odd that a state-sponsored company like the East Empire Company would just fold up like that after one bad venture. They have other operations all over Morrowind, and hold a monopoly on trade in things like ebony, glass,and stalhrim, not to mention favorable tariffs on the other stuff. Besides, depending on how you play Bloodmoon, you can end up in charge of Raven Rock. Unless Bethesda means to imply that it is the player character's incompetence after Bloodmoon that puts the colony out of business!

What's that? Derelas fell down the well? Sorry, I could not resist.

This trip to Cheydinhal was nothing if not gruesomely enlightening.
Indeed it has been. Hopefully now Derelas has gained a new perspective on killing.

Now what might Falcar have in that chest? His subscription to Playorc?



nits:
Then there was the fact Falcar didn’t even bother me to warn me about the ring’s nature;
I think you have a me leftover from an earlier edit.

He appearance was shocking
That fetcher Falcar absconded with Deetsan's "r" on the way out!

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Feb 8 2011, 10:01 PM

[mALX]

I absolutely love what you have done to this quest! The struggle to get out of the well was one of those perfect details you saw that most miss - HUGE Write !!! Awesome Chapter !!!

Here is the Chevy Silverado to help you get out of the well:



Silverado - Timmy In The Well

[King Coin]

I'll have to read this one too, but I think I'll come back later when I have more time to sit and read.

[Acadian]

I thoroughly enjoy Derelas' take on things here so far. You have brought the guild nicely to life. I'm so glad we now have Deetsan in charge!

“No wonder the water’s been tasting funny recently…” the guard mumbled.'
I'm so glad you managed to work in this wonderful line from the game!

“Fine,” I finished, heaving the ring into my hands with a grunt.'
Um. . . Dere, it doesn't work so well when one fella tries to use in on another.

Nit?
'Another High Elf named Honditar was studying in a corner of the room. '
Although nothing on Nirn says you can't modify things and take license as you deem appropriate, I suspect you meant Eilonwy's sweetie Orintur here? As you know, Honditar is in Chorrol. I know those high elves are so darn tall, it can be hard to see their faces up there in the clouds.

[Thomas Kaira]

@SubRosa: Quick, we need Lassie... err... Chevy! That section was rather unintentionally well timed.
Nits picked.

@mALX: I pride myself in noticing the little things others tend to miss. Like, for example, how insanely difficult it would have been for your character in-game to get out of that well thanks to that ring. Who needs ladders when we have such technology as load-screen teleportation?

@King Coin:Take your time and enjoy yourself. Glad to see you jumping in.

@Acadian: That was not a fine in that sense, but a fine in that other sense. You know, the sense where fine would not work, but at the same time sorta work... Ahh, who cares. It stays!
The name, however, is changed. It is not the first and certainly won't be the last Elder Scrolls name I mess up.

@all: I think it's about time we refer back to that hungry beast known as plot. This chapter will hopefully add a bit of perspective on the significance of Falcar's work in Cheydinhal.

next:We pay a visit to Guilbert, and sit down to a nice dinner with our Cheydinhal guildmates.

Chapter 3-4: The Last Supper…

Well wasn’t that a waste of time, the drawers were completely bare inside, not even a speck of dust as far as I could tell. Falcar must’ve cleared them out before he left. I’ll give him this one, he’s sneaky, alright, and intelligent. Well, no use worrying about this any longer, I thought to myself, tossing the key aside. Just another worthless red herring. I returned to gathering up what was left of Falcar’s clothing to move it to the communal wardrobe upstairs.




----




“Derelas, could I have a quick chat?”

I turned away from hanging up the clothing I brought from the basement to see Trayvond standing behind me, a book wedged under one arm and a soft smile upon his face.

“Sure,” I replied, shutting the closet door and moving to sit at a small table in the middle of the room with a small bowl of fruit in the center. Trayvond followed me.

“I just wanted to thank you for helping to get rid of Falcar,” Trayvond told me once he had found a comfortable seat. “He was a most unpleasant magister, as you have no doubt witnessed.”

“I’m sure, I only knew him for five minutes and I utterly despise him,” I returned. “I take it he liked to bully people around a lot?”

“Particularly the newbies,” Trayvond explained, frowning, “it was especially hard for me to put up with him. I didn’t come all the way from Hammerfell to be held back by some stuck-up fetcher who doesn’t give a cliffracer’s beak about his subordinates.”

“Sounds like I, well, me and Deetsan that is, did you a favor, then?” I wondered, reaching for a strawberry from the bowl in the center of the table.

“Very much so,” Trayvond replied. “He must’ve been pulling a Telvanni, because he wouldn’t even let me speak to him. That means no recommendations… and therefore no future,” he concluded bitterly, helping himself to a small bunch of comberries.

“Really, why?” I inquired, pulling out a strange, pointy leaf and examining it.

“Probably because my people tend to look down on magic users,” He answered, popping one of the small, red berries into his mouth, “We see it as an affront to life, tampering with others’ minds and stealing souls. A Redguard wizard is more often than not considered weak or wicked back in Hammerfell.”

“So that’s why you traveled to Cyrodiil,” I finished, returning the odd leaf to the bowl.

“Yup, the mages guild doesn’t have that much influence back home in Dragonstar, so here I am,” he placed another berry into his mouth before continuing. “I’ll admit, I’m not very partial to practitioners of Conjuration and Illusion. Age old prejudices die hard, I guess.”

My heart sank, my only real magical skill lay in Illusion. I decided to nip this bud early so it wouldn’t come back to haunt me later.

“Well, that’s a shame, Illusion is my preferred magic,” I told him, hoping he wouldn’t think any less of me for it.

“Well, then just don’t use your hocus-pocus to suggest I start dancing around the town square in a tutu and we won’t have any problems,” he informed me with a smirk.

“Anyways, what have you been doing around here?” I asked once I finished laughing. “You must’ve kept yourself busy somehow, why not leave if Falcar was so unreasonable?”

“Well, mostly because Alteration is my preference and Orintur has been giving me some private tutoring,” Trayvond responded. “He’s been helping me work on my shield spells, and I’m getting pretty good at them now. Alteration is the focus of this hall, after all; I didn’t want to leave until I was sure there was nothing left for me here.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll be on your way soon,” I replied, rising from my seat. “Now that Falcar is gone, you can finally finish what you started here.”

“And I very well plan on it,” Trayvond added, downing the last comberry. “Say, will you be staying for dinner? I’m sure the rest of the guild will want to meet the man who saved them from a lifetime of misery.”

“That sounds lovely,” I told him, “but I have a couple things to do around town first. Erm… you wouldn’t happen to know anyone with the last name of Jemane now, would you?”

“Hmm…” Trayvond brought a hand to his mouth and began to rub it in thought. After a few seconds, he looked back to me. “Well, there’s a Guilbert Jemane around these parts. I’d imagine you could find him over at Newland’s Lodge. Why, do want to see him?”

“Very much so,” I answered, turning towards the stairs. “I’ll be back soon, thanks for the help.”




----




“Yes, I am him, can I help you with anything?”

Guilbert Jemane greeted me warmly upon my approach. Six bells had rung from the city chapel as I made my way through the city, signaling dinner. Guilbert was seated at a small table eating from what I could only describe to be a giant egg with a very thick shell. How he was even going to go about such a feat eluded me completely. I made a quick note to ask about it when I returned to the guild.

“Well met, Guilbert,” I replied, giving him a quick nod, “I don’t want to take up too much of your time so I’ll try to be brief. Does the name ‘Reynald Jemane’ mean anything to…”

“Wait,” Guilbert cut me off, shock spreading across his youthful face, “Say that name again.”

“Reynald Jemane,” I repeated, “I met him in Chorrol.”

“You met him?” Guilbert inquired, voice filled with amazement and perhaps joy, “you mean… he’s alive?!”

I noticed my knees suddenly seemed less willing to support me. Whatever I was expecting as a response from him, it was not that. Guilbert thought he was dead? He seemed right as rain when I saw him… well… in his own special way, I guess. What might have happened between them to bring Guilbert to that conclusion?

“I can’t believe it; I was told my mother and brother never survived!” Guilbert ecstatically continued, “This is incredible! Where did you say you saw him? Chorrol?”

“Umm… yes.” I bemusedly replied, still trying to steady my suddenly rapidly beating heart, “Yes… in Chorrol. Are you… are you going to go see him?”

“I’ll leave first thing tomorrow,” Guilbert answered, abandoning his giant eggy dinner, “You have no idea how happy you’ve made me to tell me that friend! Excuse me, I have to pack my things.”

Guilbert then hurried upstairs, leaving a most confused Bosmer in his wake.




----




“And so he just ran off… zoom. I still don’t understand half of it.”

It was now dinner time at the Cheydinhal chapter, and I had just finished telling the table about what had happened with Guilbert Jemane. They had all given pause when I told them about how he thought Reynald was dead, but they were quickly recovering.

“Very strange,” Eilonwy slowly replied, helping herself to a bowl of cheddar grits, “I wonder what might’ve happened to make him think that?”

“Giants, maybe?” Orintur chimed in beside Eilonwy. He was eating one of those same eggs Guilbert was; Kwama eggs, he said they were. Off-white and roughly five times the size of a chicken egg, he had used a special knife with its point tapered forward to cut a small portion of the shell off. He then picked up a soup spoon and scrambled around whatever was inside. The result was… well… some kind of gelatinous, muted red goo. It looked utterly disgusting, but seeing the way he savored every bite, I thought I’d reserve judgment on those things. “Or perhaps ogres?” He added, “if they lived in the wilderness, it wouldn’t surprise me.”

“Might’ve been Daedra,” Trayvond quipped, causing everyone at the table to stare at him with eyebrows raised.

“What?” He exclaimed, “It’s not that far-fetched anymore. The Septim bloodline was the only thing sustaining the Aedric Compact. Without the dragonfires, Mundus is just begging to become a hunting ground. I’m surprised we haven’t been attacked already!”

“You and your conspiracy theories, Trayvond…” Eilonwy responded, lightly shaking her head. “If even half of them came true, Mundus would be a flaming ball of nothing by now.”

“I’m just trying to be plain,” Trayvond countered, raising his hands in mock surrender, “it wouldn't be completely unexpected for something like this to happen now.”

“Then let’s be glad it hasn’t,” Deetsan proclaimed, bringing a piece of beef to her mouth. “We’re in for hard enough times already. Skyrim’s already rattling their sabers, in fact. They’re threatening secession if a new Emperor can’t be crowned soon. I’d imagine things are pretty tense up in Bruma right now.”

“Well, then maybe I’ll have to leave them for later,” I commented.

“You never said you were leaving so soon,” Deetsan exclaimed, setting her fork down with a light clatter, “You’ve only just arrived. Why not stay here for a couple days and rest?”

“I never said I was leaving tomorrow,” I answered, “I really do need some rest from traveling… and I do need to give my back a break after lugging that ring around all day.”

“Speaking of that ring,” Orintur intersected, raising another bite of strange egg-soup to his mouth, “we need to do something about it. We can’t just leave it laying on the floor. Knowing how heavy it is, someone could trip over it… or slip on it.”

“We could probably just throw it back in the well,” I replied, raising a forkful of mashed potato to my mouth.

“Well, let’s not worry about that until tomorrow,” Deetsan injected, “but if you are so willing, Orintur, why don’t you do it?”

“Why me?” He indignantly asked, his eyebrows arisen in surprise, “You know I don’t have the strength to carry it!”

“Are you not an expert in Alteration?” Deetsan coolly replied, “just feather the ring; shouldn’t be too hard to carry then.”

Orintur’s golden skin became tinged with pink as he silently turned back to his dinner.

“Anyways, thank you again for your help today, Derelas,” Deetsan continued, turning back to me. “It has been a long time since we’ve been able to have a pleasant conversation here.”

“Hear hear,” Eilonwy added her approval, sending a smile my way.

“You’re welcome,” I replied, scooping the last of my own piece of beef of my plate. “I think I’ll take some leisure tomorrow, maybe get to know everyone here a little better, but I do want to finish off these recommendations before Spring term starts.”

“I understand,” Deetsan told me as I set my fork down and rose from the table, “If I may, I would recommend you go to Bravil next. The magister there, Kud-Ei, is a good friend of mine, and very reasonable… well… so long as you don’t make life difficult for her girls.”

“Then I’m sure she’ll be pleased to hear I helped you out of a rather tight squeeze, then,” I replied with a grin, and getting a light chuckle in response.

“Yes, I’m sure she will,” she said, returning my grin.

“Anyways, it’s been a busy day for me, so I think I’ll bed down early,” I finished, bidding the table good night. They chimed their chorus alike as I made my way upstairs to find a spare bed.




----




“I trust you didn’t leave anything incriminating behind,” the red-eyed figure said, his face masked in shadow by his light-eating cloak.

“Pocketed what I could, vanished the rest,” the Altmer replied, holding out two gems, one darker than Oblivion itself, the other glowing with a light to match the hooded figure’s eyes. “Your ring did its job, by the way.”

“Shame you couldn’t obtain the second,” the red-eyed man commented, pocketing the gems, the gleam in his eyes intensifying as anger boiled through his blood.

“He had a few tricks up his sleeve. It is lucky that I planned ahead, you know, otherwise the gems might be in his possession now. Or worse,” he then added, “the Council’s.”

“I did tell you not to break the bow on him, you know,” the bite of anger in the red-eyed man’s voice lashed through the air like a whipcrack, snapping the Altmer’s tongue to his teeth. “His life was not yours to take, and you should have waited on another. Why not that Redguard? You know very well they can’t magic their way out of a paper sack!”

“Apologies, master,” the Altmer immediately sank to one knee in a deep bow of repentance, “I have done wrong.”

“You did do better than I would expect of most, however, so I will spare you from the blood halls… for now,” the man the Altmer called Master then added, his voice changing to that of joy as he began toying with the glowing red crystal. “I did not expect this ploy to bear as much fruit as it has. I assume all of our puppets are in place?”

“Of course,” the Altmer replied, relief spreading throughout his face as he rose back to his feet, “Everyone you wanted is ready and waiting.”

“Good,” the cloaked man answered, “That is all, Falcar.”

The cloaked man turned away from the Altmer scurrying off into the darkness, and brought his eyes to a nearby chessboard, which was set for a game. He slowly reached out with a long-fingered hand, grasped a Bosmer-shaped pawn, and moved it forward two squares.

“White moves first…” he quietly muttered to himself, returning to his throne, his hand then came to grasp a small scroll on the armrest, and he squeezed it gently.

“Your play, Dagon.”

This post has been edited by Thomas Kaira: Feb 13 2011, 07:57 AM