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> The Story of Trey- Chapter 11
treydog
post Mar 6 2005, 05:34 AM
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I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.

Frank Herbert, Dune, "Litany Against Fear", 1965

Chapter 11

As I stared into the slowly moving waters of the Odai, thinking about fathers and sons, and the price we pay to be part of a family, I was reminded of a promise I had made seemingly long ago. When I had gone to Hassour Zainsubani to learn all I could of the customs and culture of the Ashlanders, he had mentioned his son, Hannat. He had asked me, if I saw Hannat, to remind him to send word that he was still well and to remember that his father worried about him. And he had told me that, the last he knew, his son intended to map the cavern complex known as Mamaea, west of Red Mountain. If I could not bring myself to speak with my own “family,” at least I could bring reassurance and comfort to someone else’s And I owed much to Hassour- without his guidance I might have made serious, perhaps fatal, mistakes when I first approached the Urshilaku. Although it had nothing to do with the path of prophecy, this was a debt of honor. If, as I believed, I was going to my death at Red Mountain, I would not leave this task undone. In truth, I should have done so long ago, and it troubled me that I had allowed my self-absorption to make me forgetful. As I packed up my possessions and cast a last pebble into the river, I thought what a wonderful thing it must be to have a father who was concerned for you. And then I thought what a great burden it is to have children, who must be allowed to go out into the world and risk their lives.

Despite their name, the Mamaea caverns were not particularly close to the Foyada Mamaea, which ran past Fort Moonmoth near Balmora. Instead, the caverns were in a hilly area about halfway between Gnisis and Caldera. Almost as soon as I had entered the water-smoothed passages, I was attacked by one of the Sixth House cultists known as a “Dreamer.” If these caverns were being used as a base by the Dagoth-worshippers, I feared greatly for Hannat’s safety. That initial attack had warned me, though, so I was able to make use of my bow and my stealth to wage a single-handed war on the Sixth House minions within the outer caverns. In one side chamber, I came upon a sight which almost caused me to despair- a skeletal corpse, with knife marks on the bones that made it clear that the unfortunate had become a meal for the insane cultists. Still, there was no proof that this was Hannat, and so I forged ahead. Besides the Sixth House madmen, I found little of interest in the outer cavern complex. One unexplained mystery did present itself and I will note what I saw, though I still have no explanation. In one chamber there rose a great stone column, surrounded by a pool of water. This edifice seemed to be entirely natural, without tool marks or inscriptions of any kind. Although I levitated to the top, I could not discern any purpose that it might serve. My only thought was that it had been intended to become a great sculpture of some god or demon, such as those that were still scattered about the island. If that were the case, something had prevented the builders from even beginning their work. Regardless, the solution to such mysteries was not the goal I sought in these dim passages, so I attached a fresh bow-string and moved on.

There is little to say of the remaining hours that I spent in those dark tunnels. I slew the followers of the Sixth House wherever I found them, without mercy and without remorse. They attempted to do the same to me, and I accumulated a number of new scars to go with the old ones. My arrows were running low as I picked the lock on one of the seemingly endless slatted gates that divided the passages and spied a figure moving in the shadows. I had nocked an arrow and drawn the bow when I paused. Although the half-naked Dunmer looked much like the Dreamers, there was something about the way he held himself that stayed my hand. Too, he was not armed, not even with one of the clubs those crazed fanatics seemed to prefer. Easing the tension on the bow-string, I called out to him,

“Step forward into the light, dark elf, and give me a reason that I should not kill you.”

He complied and said in a weary voice,

“Death would be a relief to me after having been captive here for so long. And it would be an end to the terrible dreams I have been having since those madmen grabbed me and stole my gear. But do me one favor- after you kill me, seek my father at the Ald Skar Inn in Ald’ruhn and tell him that Hannat died well.”

With a relieved laugh, I lowered the bow and replied,

“I would rather tell my good friend Hassour that his son lives, if it is all the same to you.”

I then explained that I had come to Mamaea specifically for this purpose, and that I would be glad to take Hannat wherever he wished to go. For his part, the young Dunmer explained that he would be satisfied if I could simply escort him safely from the caves. He could offer me no reward, having been robbed of all he owned, but he promised me that his father would honor the debt. We were soon breathing the fresh air of the West Gash and Hannat thanked me again and reminded me to see Hassour. He shook my hand and said,

“Tell him that I am well, and I will come to him as soon as I can. I have no token you might show him, but tell him that I ‘blossom anew beneath tomorrow’s sun’—he will know who has sent you.”

I suppose I could have left it at that- gone to Ald’ruhn and given Hassour the good news. That had been my intent, after all. But I had not checked every part of this Sixth House outpost and I could not leave without doing so. A part of me has always rebelled at the idea of leaving a job unfinished, even if it is unpleasant. Too, it seemed to me that part of my destiny was to cleanse these foul warrens and drive the minions of Dagoth Ur out from every hole in which they lurked. So it was that I turned back into Mamaea to finish the job. The worst encounter I had was with the “keeper” of the shrine deep inside the cave. Not worst because she was a fierce warrior, but because she was there voluntarily. Unlike the Dreamers and the ash slaves, Zula was a “normal” Dunmer. She was there not because of the Dreams, but because she had made a conscious decision to join the cause of Dagoth Ur. I searched the area of the shrine and found several interesting items, including a Daedric helm inscribed “The Face of Inspiration.” I wasn’t sure what the demonic visage was intended to inspire, other than nightmares, but it was a valuable piece of armor, so I packed it away. There were also some filthy boots that I almost let go; some fortunate impulse made me wipe away the grime- underneath it, they were made of ebony. Finally, there was a dagger which fairly vibrated with magicka. Recalling the seductive song of the sword Fury, I examined the dagger with great care before picking it up. At last, I knew that I would have to take the chance of touching the blade if I were to “read” the magicka. As I closed my fingers around the hilt, the weapon seemed to almost leap into my hand. For a long moment I seemed to be seeing through the eyes of others, who moved through shadows and struck in alleyways and audience chambers, then slipped away. As my vision cleared, I knew what I held. This was the legendary blade of assassins, the Fang of Haynekhtnamet. As I had done with Fury, I wrapped the Fang carefully and put it away securely. A weapon like that was a drug, the more one used it, the more he would want to. I had no desire to lose my soul in that way.

I cast Recall, leaving nothing in Mamaea but the corpses of the Sixth House minions and the sighing of the wind. When I reached Ald’ruhn, I walked with a light step, knowing that I carried good news. I soon found Hassour at his accustomed table in the Ald Skar, where I told him of my encounter with his son. When I quoted the bit of verse, he jumped up from his chair and grasped both my arms. Then he spoke with quiet emotion,

“You have spoken with my son? Indeed? He blossoms 'anew beneath tomorrow's sun'? That is my son. And you have rescued him from a terrible fate, if that is his message. He owes you a debt of gratitude, and I am proud to pay that debt. Who can place a value on life? But please accept these five pieces of raw ebony, rare and valuable. And from me personally, accept this, my own personal blade, and this, the ring from my own finger. May these gifts bless you, as you have blessed my son.”

It was then that I understood far more about what it was to be a father. And I knew that, no matter what might become of me, Athyn Sarethi would never turn his back on me. A true father loved his children, always.

This post has been edited by treydog: Aug 29 2010, 10:32 PM
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Soulseeker3.0
post Mar 25 2005, 09:46 PM
Post #41


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From: From "not where you are"-ville



[quote=Elongar]There was just a hint of sarcasm in my reply too......[/quote]
ohh....


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This was pretty unusual, because most children at his age wanted to become great warriors, known all through time as saviors of, well, anything - Toroabok
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Elongar
post Mar 25 2005, 09:47 PM
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[quote=Soulseeker3.0][quote=Elongar]There was just a hint of sarcasm in my reply too......[/quote]
ohh....[/quote]

Shock, horror! How could that have been....


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Power of the Shadow made human flesh,
wakened to turmoil, strife and ruin.
The Reborn One, marked and bleeding,
dances the sword in dreams and mist,
chains the Shadowsworn to his will,
from the city, lost and forsaken,
leads the spears to war once more,
breaks the spears and makes them see,
truth long hidden in the ancient dream.
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Chorrat
post Mar 25 2005, 11:52 PM
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From: Chorrol



[quote=Elongar][quote=Soulseeker3.0][quote=Elongar]There was just a hint of sarcasm in my reply too......[/quote]
ohh....[/quote]

Shock, horror! How could that have been....[/quote]

how? lack of cheese, no cheese no logic wink.gif


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I am Chorrat, the rat who can change the fate of entire kingdoms! Bow before me, or I shall do something really bad to you!

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minque
post Mar 26 2005, 12:01 AM
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This is starting to get spammy now


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

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treydog
post Mar 27 2005, 02:49 AM
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From: The Smoky Mountains



The killing of Ulath-Pal and his supporters may have been necessary, but I did not much like it. As in so many recent events, need drove me- Manirai had told me plainly that the only chance I had to be named Erabenimsun Nerevarine was through those deaths. And the ashkhan and gulakhans had made it easy by attacking me as soon as they thought they saw a chance to take me by surprise. Still, it felt too much like being someone’s hired sword for my liking. If the so-called “peace-loving” Erabenimsun had wanted their oppressors dead so badly, they should have made an effort themselves. Instead, they waited for me and took advantage of my need for their support. I respected the strength of the Urshilaku, the courage of the Ahemmusa, and even the cunning of the Zainab. But I had great difficulty respecting these Ashlanders, who seemed to have given up. Still, I had done Manirai’s bidding- now I could see about collecting my “reward,” however distasteful I might find it. The wise-woman told me that I now had an even more difficult task- to persuade Han-Ammu that he should become ashkhan.

Han-Ammu had a sour face, as if nothing he saw pleased him. When I presented myself to him and informed him that Ulath-Pal and his supporters were dead, he simply looked at me for several moments, and then said,

“Well, I am sure that is a good thing, but I don’t see why you felt it was necessary to tell me about it.”

When I explained that Manirai had identified him as the next ashkhan, the sour look became an absolute scowl. He complained,

“Please! I don't WANT to be ashkhan. Don't you understand? I won't be any good at it. I am going to be a complete failure, and everyone will hate me even more than they do now. PLEASE! I just want to be left alone!”

Although I understood Han-Ammu’s resistance and even sympathized with it, I was not going to take “no” for an answer. After killing Ulath-Pal and his friends, I admit that I had “borrowed” any magical items they had been wearing. At the time, I had not had any clear purpose for doing so- just my usual attitude of “waste not, want not.” Now, I brought out the items and laid them on the floor of the tent. I point at each one and said to Han-Ammu,

“Here you see Sanit-Kil’s Heart of Fire, the Robe of Erur-Dan the Wise, and the War Axe of Airan-Ammu. Each one of these items is a symbol of the leadership of the Erabenimsun. The amulet enhances courage; the robe, wisdom; and the axe, strength. All of these attributes are necessary for the leader of a tribe. However, they are simply symbols- they are not leadership in themselves. Ulath-Pal was a terrible leader, because he thought that strength was enough. Worse still, he thought only of himself.”

I considered what Han-Ammu was feeling; it was no doubt very much like what I had felt when I was told that I was the Nerevarine. No one had asked me- they had simply TOLD me. I sympathized with the young Ashlander, but I also recognized that he would have to accept his responsibility. So I continued,

“You see that I wear the Moon-and-Star ring. The ring is a symbol, too- the symbol of the Nerevarine. But the ring does not MAKE me the Nerevarine; it only shows others that I am. I had to DECIDE that I would accept this ring, and all that went with it. I could have walked away from the responsibility- the gods know, I wanted to! But if I had done that, Dagoth Ur would have won, and Vvardenfell would have died. Perhaps all of Tamriel would have fallen. Believe me, I am no hero. I am just a former thief who would prefer to live out his life in peace and quiet. But I was chosen to do more than that, just as you were. You say that you will fail, that no one believes you can be ashkhan? You are mistaken. Take up the Heart of Fire, the Robe, and the Axe. Array yourself in these things as if they belong to you. Because they do. Take up these symbols and become the ashkhan of your people, for they NEED you. The enchantments of the items will provide you with assistance as you learn your duties. Manirai will also give you guidance and advice. The survival of the Erabenimsun is in your hands, Han-Ammu. They all have strength, wisdom, and courage. But they need YOU to be their symbol, their leader. Give them their lives, and they will give you their loyalty.”

Han-Ammu stood silent for some time, eying the symbols of leadership and considering my words. I held my breath, for I knew that he could still refuse and so doom my quest. At last, he bowed his head and said,

“It shall be as you say, Trey.”

Ceremoniously, I place the amulet around his neck, the robe over his shoulders, and the axe in his hands. He straightened his shoulders and his formerly sour look was replaced with one of determination. His look steady, Han-Ammu said,

“Your lesson is clear. It is the symbols that give courage in battle, wisdom in counsel, and strength in war; and it is the idea of symbols that gives confidence to the tribe, but it is the ashkhan who bears them, the ashkhan who accepts responsibility for the safety of the tribe, who holds the fate of the tribe in his hands. Now, with Ulath-Pal dead, I hold the fate of the tribe in my hands, and I must accept that responsibility. Thank you for your lesson. I shall be Ashkhan of the Erabenimsun. Thank you, Trey. I promise that, as ashkhan, I shall do my best to amend the dark reputation of the Erabenimsun. And as my first action as chief, I now name you Erabenimsun Nerevarine, Champion of the Erabenimsun, and Protector of the People. You must also go to wise woman Manirai and get from her the Seizing of the Erabenimsun, an enchanted heirloom of the tribe, which shall be a sign to all Dunmer that the Erabenimsun have named you Nerevarine.”

I bowed to Han-Ammu and sought Manirai to tell her that the Erabenimsun had a new ashkhan, and that he had named me Nerevarine. The wise woman thanked me gravely and gave me the belt known as the Seizing of the Erabenimsun, which granted the user the power of telekinesis. It, too, was a symbol, but an important one. Three of the four Ashlander tribes had named me Nerevarine and all that remained was to return to the Urshilaku to complete the fifth trial.
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Channler
post Mar 27 2005, 05:40 AM
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As always TreyDog, your story's are extremely enjoyable
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Wolfie
post Mar 27 2005, 12:05 PM
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Cool. Keep up the good work Trey


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D�anaim smaoineamh, d� bhr� sin, t�im ann - Descartes

Only the dead have seen the end of war ~ Plato

Fairy tales do not tell children the dragons exist. Children already know that dragons exist. Fairy tales tell children the dragons can be killed. - G.K. Chesterton

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treydog
post Mar 27 2005, 08:18 PM
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Before leaving the Erabenimsun, I asked Manirai how they would manage. Although Ulath-Pal and his gulakhans were bad leaders, they had also represented a fair portion of the tribe’s strength. The wise woman assured me that they would be better off, now that they could go back to herding and hunting, instead of expending their energy on raids. And then she added something that aroused my curiosity.

“Besides, we have other assistance. From the Imperial lady who visits us from time to time. She will be stopping by again, now that Ulath-Pal has been dealt with.”

As much as I wanted to stay and see who this “Imperial lady” was, I had pressing business of my own. Since the meeting with Azura in the Cavern of the Incarnate, I had felt a sense of urgency, as if time was slipping away. Part of that was Sul-Matuul’s warning that openly declaring myself as Nerevarine would bring me into conflict with the Temple. Beyond that, it seemed that Dagoth Ur would also redouble his efforts to kill or contain me. Still, there was one unfinished task in Tel Aruhn that I was determined to see through. Their names were S’Bakha, Manilian Scerius, Menelras, Ciralinde, Jadier Mannick, and Davina. They were all in the slave pits at Tel Aruhn, and I purchased every one of them and set them free. And then I gave them each 200 drakes and told them that they might be better off somewhere other than Morrowind. Whether they were criminals or victims or some of both, I didn’t care. What I knew was that no one should have to live as a slave.

With that important task completed, it was time to return to the Urshilaku. As I made my way through the Grazelands and north to the Sheogorad region, I wondered how I would fare with the Great Houses. Although the Ashlanders had been suspicious, skeptical, and even treacherous, the prophecies were a part of their culture. But the Great Houses would be a different proposition entirely. Hlaalu would probably be the easiest- a sum of gold should be sufficient to get me what I needed. Telvanni, though… Telvanni respected power. And Redoran followed the Temple’s teachings. Still, there was no need to rush too far ahead- tomorrow would take care of itself. For now, I needed to reach Sul-Matuul and Nibani Maesa and tell them that I was ready to be named Urshilaku Nerevarine.

Sul-Matuul approached the formality of naming me Nerevarine as he did all things, with solemnity and deliberation. When I told him I was ready, he responded,

“Very well. You wish to be called 'Nerevarine.' I know you, and am disposed to do so. But first we must speak of need and duty. Before I name you 'Nerevarine,' you must understand why a war leader is needed, so you may tell others. And before I name you 'Nerevarine,' I must see that you know your duty. Only when we have spoken of these things shall you be called Nerevarine.”

First, he spoke of the need of the people of Vvardenfell,

“Know the words of the prophecies. The curse of Dagoth Ur and the Sixth House threatens our land. The False Gods lie, and offer false hope of protection. You bear the Moon-and-Star of Nerevar. Azura's hand is upon you. These are the proofs you must show to all people as Urshilaku Nerevarine.”

And then he told me of my duty,

“You shall be Nerevarine of all the tribes, and Hortator of all the Great Houses. You shall eat the sin of the unmourned house, and free the false gods. You must defeat the Sixth House, and Dagoth Ur. You must free the Tribunal from their curse. This is the burden of prophecy. This shall be your duty as Urshilaku Nerevarine.”

I suppose I had known all of that at some level, but never before had my path been so clearly described. There was more to this than simply fighting Dagoth Ur- I was also responsible for the redemption of House Dagoth and of the Tribunal. Although it was a heavy burden, and the outcome was still uncertain, I knew that the task was mine alone. I could not turn aside or falter, even when I was afraid. Bowing my head, I promised Sul-Matuul that I would do all of these things or die in the attempt. Placing his hands on my shoulders, the ashkhan of the Urshilaku announced,

“Before my hearth and kin, and before the People of the Wastes, I name you Urshilaku Nerevarine, War Leader of the Urshilaku, and Protector of the People. In token of this, I give you the Teeth, which shall be a sign to all Dunmer, that you are the Nerevarine, and that the Urshilaku shall follow you, in all things, even unto death, until the Enemy is defeated, or until you are dead, or until you give this back into my hand.”

So saying, he placed around my neck an amulet of great age, known as the Teeth of the Urshilaku, which would protect the wearer against paralysis. And so it was done- I had completed the Fifth Trial and been named War Leader, Nerevarine, of the four tribes. Somehow the weight of the amulets and the belt that the tribes had given me seemed far more than they should. My shoulders slumped under the weight and my steps seemed leaden. But then I turned my face toward Red Mountain, the place where my destiny lay, and it seemed as if a thousand hands raised me up, and a thousand voices whispered as one,

“Trey. Incarnate. Nerevar reborn. Free us from our bondage. You are the key.”

[i][size=18]Here Ends Chapter 11
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Wolfie
post Mar 27 2005, 11:59 PM
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WOOOOOOOOOO!!!! GO TREY.
Seriously, i love the way you humanize trey. The weight of the relics etc.
Can't wait for the next chapter, but no pressure. Do it in your own time


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D�anaim smaoineamh, d� bhr� sin, t�im ann - Descartes

Only the dead have seen the end of war ~ Plato

Fairy tales do not tell children the dragons exist. Children already know that dragons exist. Fairy tales tell children the dragons can be killed. - G.K. Chesterton

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Soulseeker3.0
post Mar 28 2005, 02:23 AM
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WOW i agree with LoneWolf. that was amazing.


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This was pretty unusual, because most children at his age wanted to become great warriors, known all through time as saviors of, well, anything - Toroabok
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Channler
post Mar 28 2005, 10:08 PM
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How do you do it?.... :goodjob:
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minque
post Mar 28 2005, 11:44 PM
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mmm one can wonder, but talent, experience and a glorious imagination makes it...... wink.gif


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