How do we forgive our Fathers?
Maybe in a dream
Do we forgive our Fathers for leaving us too often or forever
When we were little?
…
If we forgive our Fathers, what is left?

Dick Lourie, from How Do We Forgrive Our Fathers in Ghost Radio

The only reason I knew that I had been born during Frostfall was an entry at the local Temple of Kynareth having to do with my mother's burial. Under 3E 408, the chronicle stated: "Riassa, Breton hedge witch. Died in childbed, Frostfall. Male child, healthy. Father unknown. Child placed with Greldig and wife, at Foaming Flagon Inn." I only learned that much after I had learned to read and do simple sums. Then, when I turned 15 (as I was able to determine from the dates in the chronicle), the powers of my birthsign began to manifest themselves. I was able to open locked doors with a touch and to sense the locations of creatures, keys, and enchanted items. The alchemist who taught me my letters explained the significance of these abilities and confirmed that my sign was The Tower. There were no "official" celebrations of my birthdays, of course. After I learned the proper month, I would treat myself to a gift - usually a potion made from local plants, or a book if the peddler happened to have one I hadn't read- bartered for some of those same potions. It was not until much later that I was to find that the exact date of my birth, precise even to the hour, was known. In fact, it was known to none other than Uriel Septim VII, himself. As for information about my (probable) father, that came from the inn-keeper, usually when he referred to me as, "You bastard son of a thieving bard." Apparently, I was following in my father's footsteps when I took the contents of the cash-box and disappeared into the night.

Once I learned of my birth month, it became my habit to spend part of my "birthdays" planning, dreaming, considering my past and future. So, as the first day of Frostfall dawned, I considered the past year, particularly the last couple of months. I had come far since I took that nap in the park in the Imperial City- both geographically and in terms of professional advancement. I was in good standing in a couple of guilds; I had joined the Tribunal Temple; and had been "volunteered" into the Blades. Somehow, it wasn't enough. Even if I had friends in those factions, I was mostly just another worker. And with advancement in the guilds would come responsibility. If I advanced too far, I would rarely be able to get out in the world. Thieving was a game for a young man- I could continue for many years, but my reflexes and eyesight would betray me some day. It was also clear to me that I should expect to be in Morrowind for a long time to come. When I was first hustled off the boat in Seyda Neen, I had assumed that I would be able to go home in a few years. But where was home, now? Certainly not the inn in High Rock. Perhaps I could become one of those eccentric old alchemists who lived in a tower in the wilderness and blew things up about once a week. But that sounded awfully lonely. Home was supposed to be the place where you had family, where people were sorry to see you go and happy to see you return. As I reviewed all the bits and pieces I had heard about Morrowind, I remembered that the Great Houses sometime adopted "outlanders" and considered them the same as blood-kin. The idea of being part of a family brought a strange lump to my throat- I had been many things in my short life, but "family" had never been one of them.

If I were to join a Great House, I would need to think it through carefully. You could only ever have your name entered in the lists of one House; even if you were later expelled, the others were forever closed to you. Through conversations with Caius and others, I had gleaned this much- Hlaalu was the House most closely associated with the Empire. They valued many of the skills that I possessed. House Redoran was the most traditional and most honorable. They were considered a "warrior" house. House Telvanni was composed of ancient wizards, and was considered elitist. Only highly skilled mages should consider attempting membership or advancement. The first thing I decided to do was to narrow it down to two- it would be easier to decide. Although I enjoyed Alchemy, and my Illusion and Mysticism were improving; I was not really a wizard. Also, as I understood it, the Telvanni were mostly based on the eastern side of Morrowind. I had grown somewhat fond of the area around Balmora and Vivec. So- that left Hlaalu and Redoran. Besides their interest in commerce, Hlaalu was reputed to be highly corrupt. In fact, some whispered that House Hlaalu was the real power behind the Camonna Tong. Redoran took their ideas of honor very seriously and applied them rigorously- I had to wonder how an unreformed and unrepentant thief would fit in. As I understood it, to get very far in a Great House, an outlander needed the support of a councilor. The only answer was research- I would find the names of the councilors for the two Houses and talk to them.

The seat of House Hlaalu was Balmora; I had already spoken with Nileno Dorvayn after I had "avenged" Ralen Hlaalo's murder. With that in mind, I recalled back to Balmora and went to the Hlaalu Council Hall to ask about the Great House. Nileno gave me a copy of the Yellow Book of House Hlaalu, which listed the names of the councilors. She also offered to give me the "inside scoop" for a bribe of 50 drakes. I had sold a few excess ingredients to raise money after my book-buying spree, so I paid the graft. My 50 gold bought me the information that Crassius Curio was the councilor to see if I wanted anything. He was located in Vivec, with a manor house at the top of the Hlaalu enclave. House Redoran was based in Ald'ruhn, so I had Masilinie teleport me there. A Redoran guard explained that all the councilors maintained homes or quarters in the Manor District "under Skar." It turned out that Skar was the hollow shell of an absolutely huge "Emperor crab," and that it housed the Redoran Council Hall as well as most of the councilors' manors and the finer shops in Ald'ruhn. The person to talk to was someone named Neminda, who could be found in the Council Hall. She turned out to be a Redguard, who identified herself as a Drillmaster and Recruiter for Redoran. Her manner was somewhat abrupt until I complimented her eyes, after which she warmed up nicely. Perhaps those romance novels were good for something, after all. She gave me a copy of the Red Book of House Redoran, which listed the councilors and their residences. She didn't request a bribe, but did say that Athyn Sarethi would be the best person to talk to about House Redoran. I followed her advice and visited Sarethi Manor. The Redorans were a stiff-necked bunch, but polite and informative. I still wasn't sure how well I would get along with a bunch of warriors and crusaders, so I went to Vivec to see Crassius Curio.

He may have been a powerful councilor in a powerful House, but Crassius was a peculiar fellow. The first thing he said to me was,

"Call me Uncle Crassius."

Odd, but I supposed I could put up with odd. Then he called me "sweetie" and "dumpling." That went beyond odd, straight past peculiar, and over to the extreme side of weird. I had met a few people who I wished would call me pet names- this heavyset Imperial with a beard was not one of them. Although my skills were far more suited to Hlaalu, I just couldn't bring myself to join them. It went beyond Crassius- their association with the Camonna Tong also made me nervous. Then there was their attitude that it was acceptable to do anything to achieve an advantage or make money- including being involved in the slave trade. Even though I was a thief, I had some scruples. For one thing, I wouldn't steal from or plot against my own people. The same couldn't be said for House Hlaalu- I wondered which Hlaalu councilor Ralen Hlaalo had crossed. The avarice and backstabbing of Hlaalu reminded me painfully of the “foster family” I had abandoned in High Rock. After due consideration, I chose House Redoran, even though it would be the harder path. Their concept of honor made more sense to me and I would work to learn the skills they valued. I wanted a chance to prove that not all "outlanders" were Imperial oppressors. Most of all, I wanted a chance to become part of a family for the first time.

When I approached Neminda about joining House Redoran, she asked me if I was certain- once I was accepted, no other House would offer membership. Without explaining all of my reasoning, I replied that I understood and was willing to live with that restriction. She then asked me about my skills. She was pleased with my ability with long blades, and my athleticism and armorer skills were adequate. However, she recommended that I do some work with medium or heavy armor if I wanted to advance very far. The examination complete, I signed the book and was made a Hireling of House Redoran. Neminda then told me that I should come to her when I was ready to perform duties for the House. I had a feeling that the first few tasks would be more in the nature of tests than real services for Redoran. Still, I was willing to do some possibly mind-numbing and probably dangerous work before they accepted me. My powers of prediction proved accurate when the first job Neminda had for me was to go toward the coast to help a guar-herder name Drulene Falen deal with some mudcrabs that had been attacking the herd. It seemed that mudcrabs were normally scavengers, but if one ever got a taste of living flesh, it would become an aggressive hunter and even travel some distance inland in search of prey. Then she gave me directions to the herder's hut, which was apparently in the middle of nowhere. I had a feeling that the first test wouldn't be how I handled the mudcrabs, it would be whether or not I could find Drulene. I decided to take care of my business in Maar Gan before I went searching for the besieged guar herd; after my book-buying spree, I needed the 500 drakes Mirel would pay for the Falasmaryon index. And I also wanted to finish up the investigation for the Mage's guild.

Naturally, I chose to walk into a terrible ash storm, rather than take the nice, fast silt strider to Maar Gan. It gave me a chance to practice my marksmanship and soul-trapping on the few hundred cliff-racers that swooped down on me. The monotony of the screeching pests was broken by a couple of attacks by the zombie-like humanoids, which I had discovered were called "corprus stalkers," and one of which attacked me just north of Ald'ruhn. I had thought such creatures were confined inside the Ghostfence. And speaking of the Ghostfence, my wonderful map neglected to illustrate the fact that that rather prominent feature lay across the direct path from Ald'ruhn to Maar Gan. Finally, as I had nearly reached Maar Gan and while I was swatting at a couple of persistent cliff-racers with my sword, I was attacked by a two Dunmer who had a camp alongside the Ghostfence. That was the last straw- I made up my mind that if I survived, I would learn to ride on those gods-forsaken giant fleas. For the hundredth time, I bemoaned the lack of nice, normal, and above all, vegetarian horses in this place. I also resolved that I would search all of Tamriel for the ingredients to a potion that would repel cliff-racers. And even if it made me smell like a dung heap in the middle of Sun's Height, I would wear it.

It was small consolation that the first building to loom out of the swirling ash was Huleen's hut. Thoroughly irritated, I shouldered the door open and shouted, "Very well, who is disturbing the studies of Edwinna Elbert?"

My spectacular entrance was spoiled by the Scamp that leapt from behind the door and stabbed me with a short sword. The least of the Daedra, these vicious little beasts usually attacked with claws and teeth. It was odd to see one with a sword. It was even more odd to see one in a house, unconstrained by a summoner's circle. Fortunately, the little demon was no match for my swordsmanship and he died quickly. Besides the sword, the creature had a key in his possession. As I took a moment to catch my breath, I looked around and realized that the hut had been thoroughly ransacked. It didn't look like a search so much as destruction for its own sake. Furniture was overturned, and crockery was smashed on the floor and against the walls. There was no blood, so it didn't seem to have been a fight. No wonder Edwinna had been disturbed- if my demonic little friend had thrown this kind of frenzy, the psychic energy would have been tremendous. But how had the Scamp gotten into the hut? I found the answer to that question behind a locked door in the basement, in the form of a near-naked man. He was Huleen's apprentice and had gotten tired of his menial duties. So, to prove his abilities, he summoned a scamp, but did not correctly complete the ritual of binding. The Daedra waited for an opportune moment and then stole his clothes and began destroying the hut. Listien managed to get away by locking himself into the store room. He thanked me for killing the Scamp and promised to never summon another Daedra. Knowing mages, I imagined that his promise was sincere as he made it- and that it wouldn't be too long before he forgot all about it.

Now all I had to do was find the Falasmaryon index at the shrine and take it without being seen. When I entered the shrine, I saw that the theft wouldn't be easy. Actually, what I saw first was a Dremora Lord, which nearly necessitated a quick change of my armor before I realized that he was constrained in the same way as Krazzt. The index was lying on a silver plate just to the left of the boulder that apparently comprised the shrine. Besides the Dremora, there were two Dunmer in the room, either priests or pilgrims. And they did not seem inclined to leave. As a member of the Temple, I didn't think I could just grab the index and run- I might have to come back here someday. Also, since the item was valued at 500 septims, I would end up with a bounty in that amount. As I tried to decide how to get this job done, I remembered the Exclusive Potion of Shadow Edwinna had given me. Now was the perfect time to make use of that gift. I walked over to the door to the outside and then waited until both of the Dunmer had their backs turned. As they looked away, I opened the door, used the potion, and let the door close again. Now I was "hidden" and no one except perhaps the Dremora knew I was still there. He didn't look like he had anything to say, so I didn't worry about that. It pays to be cautious, so even though I was counting on the potion to conceal me, I used every bit of stealth I could manage as I approached the index. With a controlled movement, I scooped my trophy off of the plate and made my way to an empty hallway deeper in the shrine. No one raised an alarm, so I cast Recall and reached Balmora. From there, I had Masalinie send me to Caldera, where I collected the 500 drakes from Mirel. I have to admit, I felt much better with that money in my pocket. My next stop was the armorer's, where I replenished my supply of arrows. Then it was an easy jump to Ald'ruhn, where I was able to tell Edwinna that I had taken care of the disturbance at Huleen's hut. Apparently, that put the guild steward in a better frame of mind- she gave me two scrolls of the Fifth Barrier, a rather nice Shield spell. Of course, nothing good lasts for long- it seemed that the Chimarvamidium was of no use to her, and- you guessed it- she needed "someone" to sneak it back into Sirilonwe's closet.

I took the "useless" book from Edwinna and left the Guild shaking my head at the antics of Mages. Considering the trouble "we" had gone to, it would have been simpler to just give me some paper and quills and have me sneak in and make a copy of the book. But I knew scholars- "A copy could introduce errors," and "You might consider something a stray mark that is actually the key to the whole thing," and, my personal favorite, "It is important to see the original context." Also, let's assume I had made a copy and Edwinna had been disappointed in the content. She would have decided that there was something wrong with the copy and insisted on seeing the original, anyway. So I would have been forced to steal the book no matter what. In spite of my complaining, I have to admit it was kind of fun to practice my skills and I did feel better about using them to return the book. That would be for later; right now I wanted to find Drulene and see if I could solve her mudcrab problem. I didn't know if quick action on the mission would help my standing with House Redoran, but I decided it couldn't hurt. Also, the constant bickering and intrigue in the Mages Guild got on my nerves- I had joined to learn some spells and improve my skills, not to get drawn into guild politics.

Before leaving Ald'ruhn, I purchased a bonemold cuirass. I wanted to improve my House skills and medium armor seemed a good one to work on. It took some getting used to- the bonemold was stiffer than my light armor, but it also felt more substantial. The ash storm was still blowing fiercely as I left Ald'ruhn and attempted to follow Neminda's directions. Fortunately, when I reached the hill country, the wind died down. My new cuirass received a workout, as I was attacked by a number of the nuisance beasts common to the area. At one point, a pack of three nix-hounds rushed me before I was aware of them and I was impressed by the armor's resilience as it turned their clawing attacks. On the other hand, I needed to pay closer attention- not everything would be as "easy" as a nix-hound, and many of these creatures seemed to be carrying one or another disease. I soon began to think that the real test of this mission was just finding Drulene- the landmarks in this region seemed to consist of- "low hill, tree, rock, cliff-racer, another rock, another tree, etc." I was seriously considering leaving a trail of dead cliff-racers so I could retrace my steps. Maps are wonderful- they tend to show you all the places you have already been or that you already know how to find. A map that showed me the places I hadn't been would have been more help. Soon enough, though, I spotted the herder's hut, nestled in a little valley. Guar roamed freely, munching on the various plants. These were quite docile, particularly compared to the wild guar, which seemed to believe they were kagouti or alit.

Drulene was the sort of person you might expect to find out in the back of beyond herding guar- strong, independent, and taciturn. She explained that a couple of large mudcrabs had come up from the southwest and dragged off one of the guar. If that wasn't a joke, they must be big mudcrabs- a guar was about the size and weight of a draft horse. Still thinking this might be some sort of "hazing" or initiation joke, I went toward the coast in the direction Drulene indicated. Soon, I came to a trail where marks indicated that something big had been recently dragged. It had rained earlier, and the marks were fresh. On the bank of a muck pond, I found the dead guar being methodically shredded by the razor-sharp claws of two oversized mudcrabs. Not wanting to get too close, I stayed up the slope and dropped them with arrows. Although the herder had said there were only two, I decided to do a quick scout just to make sure. When I was sure the area was clear, I gathered a few ingredients and headed back to tell Drulene that the mudcrabs were no longer a problem.

She took the news without much reaction, then offered me some hackle-lo. It seemed she had developed a habit of stuffing the shredded leaves, which had a mild stimulant effect, between her cheek and gum. While we were talking, one of the guar playfully bumped me from behind, nearly knocking me sprawling. The beast continued to nuzzle my pack, as if looking for something. Drulene asked if I had any slaughterfish- apparently the ungainly guar loved the taste of fish and would dive into the sea if not watched closely. I figured this was just some good-natured kidding, but it was pleasant, like I was worth teasing- sort of like a younger brother. Pleased with the success of my first mission for Redoran, I headed back to Ald'ruhn to report to Neminda.

The Redoran Drillmaster congratulated me on my success and promoted me to Retainer. She also asked me to deliver a Cure Disease Potion to Theldyn Virith in Ald Velothi. While I was there, she added, I should see if Virith needed me to do anything to help out. Neminda recommended that I take the strider as far as Gnisis and then walk north to Ald Velothi. I followed her advice and it nearly got me killed- but not, as I had feared, by a silt strider.

I would love to describe my first journey by silt strider, but I can't, because I didn't actually see any of it. I kept my eyes closed the whole time. It wasn't until the driver said, "Gnisis, everybody off," that I was able to release my grip on my pack and pry my eyes open. I couldn't understand how we could be stopped when it felt like we were still moving. Finally, I was able to stand and stagger onto the platform, where I barely avoided falling off into the river. A Dunmer made some remark about "...stupid outlanders who can't hold their liquor," but I ignored it. If there hadn't appeared to be three of him, I would have punched them in their mouths. When my stomach and eye-sight settled down, I looked over Gnisis. It hadn't improved any from the last time I was there, and the rain didn't help. So, in a perfect mood for adventure (assuming adventure meant whacking things with my sword), I turned to the north gate to make my way to Ald Velothi.

If you have followed my story, you will have noticed that I have a character flaw that does not allow me to ignore a woman in distress. Perhaps it is actually a noble trait or, more likely, the result of reading too many bad romances. Regardless of the source of this tendency, it often got me into situations that might have been avoided with a little common sense. A perfect illustration was Synette Jeline and the Ring in the Pond. I had gotten most of the way from Gnisis to Ald Velothi, following the well-marked trails and mumbling about the rain, when I saw a red-haired Breton lady pacing back and forth above a rocky pool. For a wonder, she didn't scream threats or immediately try to kill me, as had so many of the women I had met in the wilderness. I was so surprised that she actually spoke to me in a civil, even a friendly fashion, that I didn't stop to wonder what she was doing out there in the rain. Considering my recent (lack of) success with pretty Breton women, it was understandable that I wasn't paying as much attention as I should have. Maybe I needed to find a nice Imperial girl closer to my own age.... She said her name was Synette Jeline and that she had lost her ring. She was sure it had rolled down the slope into the pond. She went on to explain that she couldn't go into the water herself because she was due in Gnisis shortly and that she was a "private dancer" and would be forever in my debt if I could retrieve the ring. She placed a peculiar emphasis on the words "private dancer," which led me to believe that perhaps they had some other meaning of which I was not aware. Someone who danced by herself, I supposed. Still, I could understand why such a delicate example of Breton femininity wouldn't wish to go splashing around in a cold pond. So, naturally, I agreed to help. Her response again confused me as she said, "When I finish dancing this evening, perhaps we can get together and ... discuss your reward."

When she said "reward" she arched her eyebrows in a most intriguing way and again placed an odd stress on the word. Perhaps she was from a different part of High Rock, where they spoke differently. But I didn't worry about it too much, because she smiled so sweetly when she said it.

I must have thrashed around in that pond for a good twenty minutes before I finally drank a potion of Night Eye that allowed me to spot the ring over near some rocks and pond weeds. Just as I picked it up, I seemed to hear a woman's voice say, "No good deed goes unpunished, outlander."

I definitely heard Synette shout, "Now I have you," as she cast some sort of spell and began tossing throwing stars at me. At first, I thought there must be some horrible monster that she was trying to rescue me from, but no, she was definitely trying her best to kill me. I also thought I saw a ghostly figure with a bow come up beside her. Whatever the apparition was, it also was intent on my demise. In fact, it seemed that an arrow had grazed me just as the first voice had caused me to flinch in surprise. Trying to avoid the storm of missiles, I dove underwater and scuttled back among the rocks. All of her concern about "icky pond water" seemingly forgotten, Synette dove right in and started swimming after me. She also pulled a wicked-looking dagger, which seemed to glow with a particularly unpleasant enchantment. Her shadowy friend pulled a sword and plunged into the pond, as well. As I struggled to block her determined (and frighteningly competent) attacks and at the same time keep my head above water, the "nice Breton girl" stabbed me, and I felt the fire of poison bloom in my veins. Again, an involuntary twitch probably saved me- the vicious swipe that surely would have opened my throat caught my left shoulder instead. The pain also caused me to take a deep breath- of water. For a moment, it seemed that I would die of drowning before their blades could finish me. Choking and coughing, I burst to the surface and stopped thinking of my opponents as "ladies." Anyone who used poisoned weapons was a killer, and a cruel one, at that. One advantage of fighting alone against two was that they blocked each other, while I didn't have to worry about hitting the wrong person. My longer, heavier sword and my greater reach gave me enough of an edge to defeat Synette and her dagger. As she fell back into the pond, I used the momentary break to swallow a Restore Health potion. Refreshed, I turned to face her mysterious companion. That individual seemed more of a challenge, as she was equipped with chitin armor and wielded a long blade. Yet I believe that she had come to depend too much on surprise, for she did not fare well in an even fight, when her target knew she was there. Soon enough, a second body floated in that cursed pool.

Shaking with rage and reaction as much as from the chill water, I dragged myself onto the bank, where I collapsed for some minutes. When my breathing and heartbeat reached a level closer to normal, I stood and wrung the water from my hair and tied it back again. Then I climbed slowly back to the trail, casting a final glance at the pond and the two floating forms within it- sirens who would never again lure a foolish man to his doom. Normally, I would have taken my defeated opponents' possessions- to the victor go the spoils- but I didn't even want to touch them. Let their blood-money sink to the bottom of the pool; perhaps some adventurer would find it someday. And perhaps, by then, the taint would be washed away. As for me, I turned my steps to the north and shortly reached Ald Velothi. It would be much longer before I could hear a Breton girl laugh or see a flash of red hair without tasting pond water on my tongue and feeling an ache in my shoulder. And the pain that I felt even deeper inside ...never completely went away.

As I made my way along the road to Ald Velothi, I noticed that Khuul lay in the same direction. That was where there was a boat to that terrible island called Solstheim. I wondered if I should go there. I wondered how it could be any more terrible than where I was now. And finally, I wondered why Synette and her friend were dead and I was still alive. Was it because I was better, kinder, more honest? Or was it because of a voice that had given me a split-second warning, a chance to dodge the arrow that should have killed me? And whose voice had it been? I had heard that voice before, on the night that I was brought to Morrowind in a magicka-induced stupor. It was female voice- filled with wisdom, comfort, and compassion- yet powerful. I had not so much "heard" it as felt it vibrating through my whole being. Who, or what, had taken such an interest in me, in making certain that I survived? All I had were questions without answers. Finally, I decided to do what I always did- push on. The answers would be revealed or they wouldn't- meanwhile I had obligations.

When I reached the Redoran outpost of Ald Velothi, I nearly laughed. It seemed to consist of nothing more than a guard tower and one of the crab-shell style houses they favored. What could justify maintaining a settlement there? As I got closer, I realized that there was also a Daedric shrine uncomfortably close to the outpost. I had to wonder if the information I had been given about House Redoran was all wrong- were they actually Daedra-worshippers? My questions were partially answered as I got closer and saw the dock and fishing shacks on the shore below the outpost. I realized that this was probably Redoran's only port; of course they would guard it. Not that any of that mattered- I needed to find Virith and deliver the potion, then see if he needed any work done. I found the "Hetman," as he called himself, in the tower section of the outpost- he thanked me for the potion, noting that the Arvel family would be grateful. When I asked if he needed anything else, Virith politely declined and reminded me to let Neminda know that I had delivered the potion. He also asked me to check back in a few days- he might have need of some assistance later.

Thinking that this had been a rather long walk for nothing, I stepped outside to see what there was of the little collection of shacks. As I breathed the sea air and wondered about the course my life had taken, Orero Omathan asked me if I could look into a problem for her. The Redoran smith explained that a pilgrim named Madura Seran had been kidnapped by some outcast Ashlanders who were camped nearby. They were demanding a ransom before they would release her. I really didn't want to deal with another "lady in distress"- the last several times had not turned out very well. Still, this was a pilgrim; perhaps it was a chance for atonement. I promised I would go and see what could be done.

The Ashlanders' yurt, or small skin tent, was on a little rise just south of town. The first person I met was Rawia Ashirbibi, who identified herself as the "Wise Woman" of the group. What little I knew of the Ashlanders indicated that the Wise Women were the true power of most tribes. With that in mind, I decided to try to win over Rawia as a means of convincing them to release their hostage. Although a small gift of gold made the Wise Woman more kindly disposed toward me, all she would say about the hostage was, "Talk to Abassel."

With no other choice, I entered the yurt to find a muscular Dunmer with tribal face tattoos guarding a frightened woman. I asked the Dunmer if I might speak with Madura briefly, to make sure she was in good health. With a contemptuous sneer, Abassel told me, "Talk all you like. But the woman stays here unless you wish to buy her freedom."

I hadn't known this fellow for five seconds, and I already hated him. Madura assured me that she was all right- she was afraid to leave, because Abassel had threatened to kill her if she did. Turning to the Ashlander leader, I asked him what he hoped to gain by this act.

"Obviously, the woman is important. For 500 drakes, you may have her," he responded.

No amount of persuasion or reasoning would get the stubborn Ashlander to change his mind. I imagine that I could have handled things better- although I didn't have the 500 gold, I could have sold a few potions at the outpost and raised it. But I didn't want to. A rage had been building inside of me almost from the moment I was dumped into this place and told, "You're in the Blades- deal with it." The attacks I had endured, particularly the attack by Synette, had fueled that rage. Now, this rogue Ashlander's arrogant demands caused my temper to boil over. I pulled my sword and said, "I don't have any gold for you, but I can give you three feet of silver. Where do you want it? Or do you only make war on women, you gutless wonder?"

With a scream of fury, Abassel grabbed an axe and swung wildly. I had hoped to enrage him into a mindless attack and had succeeded. Now I simply needed to continue to provoke him into more uncoordinated swings.
"My granny could hit harder than that," I jeered, skipping back out of the way. "No wonder you only pick on girls."

His next swing was so powerful that it spun him completely around when I dodged. In an instant, I thrust my sword into his vulnerable back. As I kicked him off the blade and he slid to the ground, I added, "I prefer to fight bullies, myself."

The only problem now was to get out of the camp. I hoped that, with their leader dead, the others would decide that kidnapping was a bad business decision and let us leave in peace. That was not to be- we knocked the Wise Woman and another rogue Ashlander sprawling as we burst from the tent. The resulting tangle prevented a clean escape, but I was impressed by Madura as she used her fists and feet to good effect. Somehow, fighting to protect someone else was easier, and I didn't feel any regret as the Wise Woman and the tribesman fell to my blade. Madura had managed to avoid injury, so we made our way to the outpost, where she thanked me for my help. Not wishing to face the wilderness (or the silt strider) again, I Recalled to Balmora and made my way to Ald'ruhn from there. I reported my success to Neminda, who promoted me to Oathman. After all that had happened, I decided it was time to practice my alchemy and think about what I needed to do next.

After a session of alchemy, I decided that I should first take care of Edwinna's request that I sneak the Chimarvamidium back into the Vivec Mages Guild. With that task accomplished, I could consider my next step. Returning the book was even easier than taking it had been, since the chest was no longer locked. Edwinna was so pleased with my discretion that she actually gave me a useful reward- Amulets of Divine and Almsivi Intervention. Those could be life-savers if I found myself trapped somewhere without magicka or scrolls. She also promoted me to Magician, a nice recognition of my efforts. On my return to Balmora, I decided to check in with Sugar-Lips; the Thieves Guild usually had the latest information about significant events. Besides, it was a good idea to keep them happy- I might need help with a bounty some day. And maybe after I saw Sugar-Lips, I should go to the Temple. I had completed the original pilgrimages, but not gone any further. Even if I couldn't talk to them about the strange dreams I had been having or the voices in my head, staying on the good side of the Temple would be wise. The protection of the gods might have been open to question, but the power of the Temple itself was well-known.

Sugar-Lips was very happy to see me- the situation with the Camonna Tong was getting worse and she desperately needed someone to help improve the security at the South Wall Club. She knew that there was a security expert in Balmora and that the individual was an Altmer, but no more. Her people in Balmora would be recognized and harassed or worse by Camonna if they tried to go out- she needed me to find the right Altmer and convince that person to help with security. I knew of a couple of Altmer in Balmora; the closest one and the one most likely to talk to me was Tyermaillin, one of the Blades Trainers. His house was fairly near the South Wall, so I made my way there without delay. Tyermaillin confirmed my belief- the only Altmer in town were himself, Nalcarya, Estirdalin, Imare, Hecerinde, Culumaire. The first three I dismissed as possibilities- none of them were likely to associate with the Thieves Guild. Hecerinde's house was on the east side of the Odai- that was the poorer section of town and also closer to the club, so I made that my first stop. It was a fortunate choice- he was just the Altmer I needed. He admitted that he had been neglecting his duties to the Guild and promised to help secure the South Wall. I took the good news to Sugar-Lips and she promised that the Guild would take care of any bounty I might incur without charging their usual fee. Money would have been better; I prefer not to get caught in the first place. Still, the lack of funds to pay me was just one more indication of how hard Camonna was pushing. Sugar-Lips had a feeling that the Dunmer outfit was going to make a move soon. In spite of her worries, she promoted me to Operative. I had a feeling I was going to have to do something about the Camonna problem and soon. For now, though, I decided to go to the Temple in Ald'ruhn.

Feldrelo, the Temple Steward in Balmora, had told me that the Temples in Ald'ruhn and Molag Mar were the most likely to have duties for me. I had never been to Molag Mar, and besides, I could get to Ald'ruhn without riding a silt strider. Besides, I was in good standing with House Redoran, so working out of their Council seat made sense. And the silt strider thing was just a minor consideration. Really. At the Ald'ruhn Temple, I met Tuls Valen, who explained that one of the virtues the Temple promoted was compassion. Specifically, it was important to display compassion to the enemies of the Temple and the Tribunal gods. So far, so good- but I had a feeling he was leading up to something that I wasn't going to like. My powers of prediction proved accurate; I should have gone into business as a fortune-teller. In this particular instance, it seemed that there was an Orc who had a loathsome disease. It would be nice if someone representing the Temple was to cure her. Oh, and besides being an Orc, she was a Sheogorath-worshipper. Yes, right, THAT Sheogorath, the one who was one of the worst of the "bad Daedra." But wait, it got even better. This Sheogorath-worshipping Orc could be find in a Daedric shrine called Maelkashishi, which would probably have a number of other worshippers who might resent my presence. Just to be sporting, the Temple would gladly provide the victim, I mean volunteer, for this mission with a Cure Disease potion. But, uhm, well- they would really prefer that said vict-, volunteer use the spell called Rilm's Gift. After all, potions were so expensive and, oh, by the way- it just so happened that, purely by coincidence, Folvys Andalor could teach me the spell for a mere 200 or so gold. And Folvys just happened to be right upstairs. I had to wonder what the Temple's policy was on practicing compassion for its members. Still, if I wanted a test of my stealth, there couldn't be one much better than sneaking into a Daedric shrine unnoticed. And I even decided to trade Flovys some of my potions for the spell. All I had to do now was find the shrine. And find the Orc in the shrine. And convince her that I was there to cure her. And not get killed. Simple.

Tuls Valen's directions were based on starting in Ald Velothi, so I was going to have another chance to ride the giant flea, after all. If his smirk was any indication, the driver remembered my last trip just as well as I did. I kept reminding myself, "Deep breaths, take deep breaths." I don't know if it actually helped, but it gave me something to think about. Once I reached Gnisis, I promised myself that if any Breton woman asked me for ANYTHING, I would run the other way. Perhaps by now, Theldyn Virith at the outpost had something for me to do. Wanting to avoid the pond where I had encountered Synette, I set out cross-country from Gnisis to Ald Velothi. As I came around a curve in the hillside, a remarkably large kagouti rushed out of nowhere. Judging from the bones on the ground, I was not the first traveler to be ambushed here. Despite his large size, I was able to handle the creature fairly easily. Then I discovered a mystery. Concealed among the rocks was a battered chest, which was secured with a complex lock and a magical trap. Neither of those measures proved any obstacle for me, of course. Inside was 39 drakes and a silver staff that glowed with enchantment. Inscriptions indicated that it was called a "Silver Staff of Shaming." After studying the enchantment, I determined that it was designed as a weapon against magic-users, as it damaged the Intelligence and Willpower of the target. Named weapons are usually relatively rare, and I wondered how this staff came to be here. Still, mysteries could wait and standing around in the rain wasn't going to get any of my work accomplished. That was only the first odd encounter I had- the second one was even stranger.
As I made my way along a trail, I spotted a Redguard in Imperial Legion armor standing nearby. He seemed to be mumbling and occasionally even shouting to himself. Against my better judgment, I decided to see if I could help. At least he wasn't a woman. He said his name was Din and that all he wanted was to catch some slaughterfish. Then he seemed to undergo a transformation and became angry. Perhaps I should have left, but I had a feeling there was something going on here that needed to be dealt with. When I asked him about slaughterfish, it again seemed almost as if two different people were answering. First he said, "Are you a slaughterfish? I didn't think so."

Then he followed with an apology and explained that his mind had been muddled ever since he had been bitten by one of the fish. Perhaps the Temple's idea of compassion was already working on me or maybe I just thought that Din seemed to be a decent fellow, but I couldn't leave him in this state. In between outbursts of ranting and paranoid fantasies, he mentioned that he was stationed in Gnisis and that the healer there could probably help him. But then he violently argued that he didn't trust the Gnisis healer or anyone else there. I had a feeling that trying to convince him to follow me back to the town would set him off. Besides, I wasn't sure he would be able to keep up in his current state. Instead I asked if I might use a spell that should make him feel better. In a lucid moment, Din agreed. Rilm's Gift worked and he was so grateful that he gave me 30 drakes as a reward. Maybe all Legionnaires weren't so bad, after all. Of course, he was a Redguard, not an Imperial, so that might have explained it.

Although I didn't know it yet, I wasn't quite done with slaughterfish on this trip. I managed to reach Ald Velothi without encountering anything worse than a couple of nix-hounds, and checked in with Virith to see if he needed any assistance. He mentioned that something called "Old Blue Fin" was back and causing problems- "... up to his old tricks," was how he phrased it. As it turned out, Old Blue Fin was a slaughterfish who showed up off the docks every so often and disrupted the fishing. This time the creature was causing so much trouble that Virith had decided to deal with him permanently. Considering poor old Din's experience, I wasn't too sure about this job, but after all, it was just a fish, right? I should be able to filet him in no time, provided I could find him. I made my way down to the docks and waded into the water, then started splashing around. That is usually a guaranteed way to bring any slaughterfish in the area right to you. It worked this time; in fact, it almost worked too well. Soon I spotted a couple of the toothy critters arrowing toward me, maneuvering to come up from behind. They didn't seem to be any larger than the other fish I had seen.... Then I saw him. Rising from the depths as if he had all the time in the world was the biggest fish I had ever seen. He looked to be as long as I was tall and his teeth could have done service as daggers. His seeming laziness was deceptive- he was on me before I knew it. And that fish had a bite. When he opened his mouth, it looked big enough to swallow me whole. It got a little exciting with him and his friends there for a few minutes, and I still have some of the scars. I finally rendered the old devil into bait, though, and went to tell Virith. The reward was quite a pleasant surprise- 10 pieces of Dreugh wax. It seemed that the Dreughers in town had put it up as an incentive for whoever could stop Old Blue Fin's rampage. As I said, it was a handsome gift, worth 1000 gold at an alchemist's shop. While it had turned out to be a valuable diversion and would probably help my standing with Redoran, I needed to find Maelkashishi and take care of Bulfim, the afflicted Orc. Oh yes, and not get killed doing it. Of the three, I had a feeling the last would be the hardest.

I left Ald Velothi in the midst of a violent thunderstorm, almost as if Nature itself was conspiring with the Daedra to prevent me from completing my task. Besides the miserable weather, there seemed to be more rats and nix-hounds than usual. I wondered about the legends that some of the Daedra used vermin as earthly agents- seeing through their eyes and slipping into places unseen. The rain was actually helpful, as the lower visibility and the sounds of the storm allowed me to slip past some enemies unnoticed. As I was working my way through a patch of trees near the mountains, I encountered a Redguard named Sason. He begged me to help him, saying his wife had been kidnapped by cultists. They had been surprised near Ald Velothi and put into a magical sleep. He feared that the kidnappers had taken Malexa to a Daedric shrine called Ashalmawia for some blood ritual. He urged me to hurry and save her before it was too late. In addition to promising to pay me, Sason added that he was a member of House Redoran and would make sure the Council knew of my deeds. Although I had come here with the intention of entering a different shrine, I couldn't ignore Sason. Although he was clearly a powerful, proud man, he was nearly in tears from worry. Even if she had not been Redoran, I wouldn't have left Malexa to such a fate. There are some things no man will let pass, if he is a man. And so, I found myself returning to Ald Velothi and the shrine of Ashalmawia. Sometimes I wondered if I would have been better off sleeping in the stable back in High Rock.
Still, if I was going to have to sneak into a Daedric shrine to help someone, better it be someone of my own House. As I got closer to the shrine, I slowed down and moved with greater caution. These places usually had summoned guardians hanging around outside and sometimes even those who had done the summoning. I wanted to see them before they saw me. Sure enough, as soon as I was within sight of the ruin, a flame atronach appeared on the ramparts. Knowing that my steel bow couldn't harm the magical construct, I conjured a Bound Longbow, instead. I had purchased the spell to help my Marksmanship and to save weight. With the aid of the magical bow, I dropped the atronach with a single steel arrow. When I carefully approached the body, I surprised a Redguard in mage's robes patrolling the perimeter. As I couldn't be sure of his purpose or intent, I didn't fire until he saw me and began hurling insults and spells. Once he invited me to dance, I gladly shot him full of arrows. My final opponent before I could reach the entrance to the shrine was a Dremora. I again had reason to be grateful for my natural resistance to magic, as well as my improved sword skill. However, I knew that the hardest part was yet to come.

s quietly as I could, I eased the door open and found myself in the antechamber of the shrine. Hugging the shadows, I knelt down and peered into the central room. Two purple-robed figures were in view, and neither one of them looked like a Redoran female hostage. Easing back out of sight, I again conjured the Bound Longbow and fitted an arrow to the string. As I slowly worked down the stairs, I rehearsed the coming moves in my head- take the mage on the right first, then back up and let the other come to me. The plan worked- I'm not sure if either of the cultists ever saw me as they died. That didn't make me feel particularly proud, but I didn't lose any sleep over it either. They had made a mistake when they took a woman of House Redoran for their vile rituals That was MY House, now. With the wizards out of the way, I went deeper into the shrine and cast Beggars Nose. The spell showed me that there was a key in a room to the side of the main chamber. Unfortunately, it didn't show the Dunmer clad in Imperial silver and steel who was guarding the key. That individual objected quite strenuously to my presence and indeed, to my continued existence. I reasoned with him and he eventually got my point and stopped objecting. Or anything else. Now I had the place to myself and could look around. The huge statue of Molag Bal that dominated the room was not my idea of comforting or stylish dE9cor. Although I saw a sword and some gems at the front of the statue, I didn't touch anything. Those items had the look of ritual sacrifices, and I had a feeling that taking them might annoy something even more than my presence already did. Finally, I found a locked and trapped door on the east side of the chamber.

My superior skill and tools allowed me to laugh at their puny security. Of course, I also had the key. The door opened onto a long, partially-collapsed tunnel. At the end of the tunnel, I found Malexa, who seemed frightened but unhurt. When I assured her that the cultists were dead, she asked me to take her back to her husband. We were able to escape the shrine without encountering any more guardians and made it through the wilderness without incident. Fortunately, she was reasonable when I pointed out that avoiding fights was a better choice, particularly given that she had neither arms nor armor. Soon enough, we reached Sason and there was a tearful reunion. Not for the first time, I wondered if anyone would ever be so happy to see me return from danger. At last, Sason broke the embrace long enough to give me 200 drakes and renew his promise to inform the Redoran Council of my assistance. I tried to give the money back, but he wouldn't take it. As are all members of Redoran, he was proud. For practically the first time since I had arrived, I felt good about something. Now if I could just find Bulfim. And cure her. And not get killed.

The patch of trees where I had reunited Sason and Malexa was almost at the foot of the mountains, so I went the rest of the way to the east and then turned south, searching for the shrine of Maelkashishi. Previously I had only ascertained the locations of Daedric shrines to ensure that I could more efficiently avoid them. Now I found myself planning on entering the second one today. Something had gone seriously wrong with my plan to accumulate a reasonable amount of wealth, settle down in a nice house, and never have to shovel out another stall. I supposed to be a thief, not some starry-eyed crusader. All I knew about knights was that they rode big horses in order to carry the extra weight of their armor and their egos. What was worse, even though I didn't understand who I was becoming, I found that I rather liked it. Even though I was better than ever at lurking in the shadows, I was also able to walk into the Temple or the Redoran Council Hall with my head held high. That was disturbing- I had planned on staying unknown, a mystery. But now that people were beginning to respect me, I realized that I would have to live up to that respect. All this was making my head hurt. Fortunately, I reached Maelkashishi sooner than I would have preferred and trying to decide how to proceed drove all the other thoughts out of my head. The first thing I decided was that, as a respectable thief, I should attempt a stealthy approach, rather than just bulling right in. A convenient rock outcrop gave me a nice vantage from which to survey the shrine and its surroundings. Nothing I saw inspired any great confidence- there were several cliff-racers, rats, and at least one Clannfear visible. Worse, I couldn't see the entrance; it was probably guarded, as well.

My rocky perch seemed to be a good spot from which to practice my Marksmanship, so I conjured a Bound Longbow and was able to remove two cliff-racers, the Clannfear, and a rat from the equation. When I got closer, I discovered that there was at least one Dremora around, as well. I was able to defeat him, but doing so exhausted my arrows and I still hadn't found the entry. Turning a corner, I was confronted by a second Dremora and a mage, who decided to gang up on me. I managed to distract the mage with a Scroll of Elemental Burst: Fire and then prepared to trade conclusions with the Dremora. Before closing with him, I used one of my Scrolls of the Fifth Barrier. I mean, what's the point of hauling all that stuff around if you aren't going to use it? A Restore Health potion also came in handy, especially when I ran into another Clannfear and a blighted cliff-racer. This shrine sure did seem to be a popular spot, considering it was out in the middle of nowhere. When I finally gained the entrance, I was beginning to think the inside might be safer than the outside. I ducked inside and found Bulfim just beyond the entryway. Her less-than-reassuring greeting was, "I've killed far worse than you."

Maybe that was Orc-speak for "Pleased to meet you."

In any event, when I spoke to her, she asked to be left alone, crying out that she was diseased and preferred to suffer in solitude. When I inquired further, the Orc explained that she had contracted Ash-Chancre and that it was making her temper short. I explained that I was there to attempt a healing spell, and she expressed doubt, declaring that her Orcish nature made her resistant to magicka. Still, she was willing to let me try. Fortunately for us both, Rilm's Gift worked. Bulfim was grateful, but recommended that I leave quickly, as the other Sheogorath worshippers would attack me on sight. That was wise counsel, even if it was offered by an Orc, so I used the Amulet of Almsivi Intervention to get back to the Temple at Gnisis. It appeared that the reward for all my good works was going to be a chance to ride the giant flea back to Ald'ruhn. Joy.

Tuls Valen ascertained that I had cured Bulfim and better, had done so without using the Temple's potion. As a reward, he offered me a book, The Four Suitors of Benitah, which he said provided a lesson on the rewards of compassion. Now that was a decent compensation- a new book and a fairly rare one, at that. Valen asked if I was ready for more duties, but I wanted get some rest before venturing out again. I had seen enough Daedric shrines to last me for a while. I Recalled to Balmora and headed for my comfortable room in the Mages Guild to sleep. In the excitement of running all over Morrowind, I had forgotten one thing- I still hadn't talked to Apelles Matius about the Dark Brotherhood assassination attempts. And that had been a mistake.

Contemplating my future as a valued member of House Redoran was all well and good, and perhaps I had even earned the right to a little quiet pride in my accomplishments. That did not mean that I could forget that I was in a dangerous place. Even more, I could not forget that someone, maybe a number of someones, wanted me dead. With my recent focus on becoming a part of the local culture and gaining a place to call home, I had forgotten my primary goal- "Stay alive." So when I put my head down on that pillow in the Balmora Mages Guild, I didn't expect a Dark Brotherhood assassin to try to remove that head. But I should have. Of course, I had finally talked to a guard about my little problem of people trying to kill me. And I had promised myself that I would go talk to this Apelles Matius in Ebonheart real soon now. It is really important to keep those promises to yourself- it can literally save your life. What it was that saved me on that particular night, I don't know- perhaps I heard something, perhaps I twitched in my sleep just as the sword was falling for the killing stroke. However it was, I do know that I awoke to find an assassin standing over me and the feel of blood on my neck. Worse, I could tell that the wound was poisoned. The first thing to do was get out of the bed and into a more defensible position. What I intended as a smooth roll was more of a spastic lurch, but I did manage to grasp the hilt of the tanto I had taken to keeping nearby when I slept. Deciding to turn my graceless tumble into a decoy, I didn't try to stop myself, but continued bonelessly to the floor, with the blade hidden beneath me. If it had been my usual long sword, I couldn't have done it. With the amount of blood I had lost, I hoped the assassin wouldn't realize that he had missed. If he would just act as I expected him to, I might manage to survive. I only had one chance, though, and that depended on this fellow being someone who really liked his work. If he was simply efficient, I was done. I felt a hand grasp my left shoulder and forced myself to relax. He had to believe I was dead or unconscious. Then I got the signal I was waiting for- the hand tugged on my shoulder, preparing to roll me over. As I had hoped, he wanted to see my face when he delivered the final blow. So I completed the roll, bringing the tanto with me and speaking the word that invoked its power. Now I held not just a regular short blade, but a Daedric tanto. Better still, my skill with the blade was magically enhanced. If I lived through this, I would have to remember to thank Ra'Virr for insisting that I needed to learn to work with something besides long blades. I was able to strike the killer's abdomen with the blade while sweeping his legs out from under him with my left arm. Then, before he could recover, I got my knee onto his sword arm and launched a flurry of blows to the chest. If he had a heart, I was determined to find it.

Fortune or fate or the gods favored me, and the corpse that decorated the Mages Guild floor was not mine. Wasting no time, I cast Hearth Heal and then grabbed a few essential pieces of gear. I had Masilinie teleport me to Vivec, then used the Divine Intervention amulet to bring me to Ebonheart. Now all I had to do was find Apelles. I didn't know whether he could do anything about the attacks, but the last one had come too close. Outside the Imperial Cult Shrine, I found a guard who said Apelles had been walking on the ramparts earlier; he was probably still there. I went through the Council Chamber and out onto the battlements, where I saw a dark-haired Imperial in fancy armor. He admitted to being Apelles Matius and asked me what I needed. When I explained that I had been attacked repeatedly by the Dark Brotherhood, he was skeptical.

"You say you've been attacked by the Dark Brotherhood? The fact that you're standing here seems to suggest otherwise."

After all I had been through, I didn't appreciate being called a liar. Unfortunately, I had not thought to bring along any of the assassin's gear as proof. Everyone had told me this was the man to see, and now he just wanted me to go away. I told him, "You may be the new military governor, but no man calls me a liar. What possible reason would I have for making up a story like that? Besides, I am of House Redoran, and we take our word and our honor seriously. What about you, Imperial?"

Although my obvious and sincere anger made him back down a bit, his answer was still less than satisfying- "Maybe you have been attacked. I don't know who is behind it and I don't want to know. If you are feeling suicidal, you can try to track the dark Brotherhood on the mainland."

When I asked him what he meant about the mainland, Apelles explained that travel had been restricted due to the Blight, but that Asciene Rane in the Council Chamber could magically transport me to the city of Mournhold. Once I reached the royal city, I could investigate the Dark Brotherhood- assuming I planned on leading a short life. It was only the restraint I had been learning over the last weeks that prevented me from creating a sudden vacancy in the Imperial governorship; well, that and the fact that I didn't think a fall from the battlements would necessarily kill him.

As I teleported back to Balmora, I seethed over his dismissive attitude. But then, what else did I really expect from the Imperial Legion? They could polish their armor and march in a straight line, but that was about it. And they could cause trouble for a working thief. But when it came to handling real crime, they were useless. All I had gotten for my trouble was to be called a liar and then told to handle it myself. No wonder the Empire was on the verge of collapse. According to the histories, it used to be that a citizen of the Empire could walk anywhere without fear. Everybody knew that the Legion would bring down so much pain so swiftly that it wasn't worth it to threaten, rob, or injure a citizen. It looked like those days were over. I had been dragged here without even being asked and now that I was finally settling in, I was told to go somewhere else. Well, I wasn't going to do it. "Go to Mournhold to seek answers." To Oblivion with that- this was my home now. I did decide to move out of the Balmora Mages Guild- they had completely ignored the attacks. Redoran maintained a hostel in Ald'ruhn- I would find quarters there. And even if Redoran couldn't protect me, they would be better company. When I reached the Council Hall, Neminda asked if I could spare a moment once I had gotten settled. When I returned to see the Drillmaster, it seemed that word of my deeds at Ald Velothi and Ashalmawia had reached her. She promoted me to Lawman and asked if I was ready for more work. I couldn't think of anything that would suit me better- I needed to get the bad taste of dealing with that Imperial idiot out of my mouth. My success in finding Malexa caused the Drillmaster to believe I might be able to succeed in another search and rescue.

It seemed that a trader named Mathis Dalobar worked a monthly run between Ald'ruhn, Gnisis, and Maar Gan. He was overdue in Maar Gan, and Neminda suggested I go there and work my way back toward Ald'ruhn to see if I could discover what had happened. I took the silt strider to Maar Gan; that was better than trying to go on foot, what with the blowing ash and the increasing number of beasts coming through the Ghostfence. When I reached the little town, most people there seemed to think that Mathis had been caught in a severe ash storm that had blown up a few days earlier. However, no one seemed to have any idea where he might have been when the storm started. They all told me that the only thing to do was seek the nearest shelter. Finally, an Orc at the Andus Tradehouse remarked that he had seen someone leading a string of pack guar toward the Rothan Tomb just ahead of the storm. The tomb was south of Maar Gan, not too far from the Ald'ruhn road. That appeared to be the best lead I was going to get; if it didn't turn out, I was going to have to search every tomb, cave, or ruin between Maar Gan and Ald'ruhn. As I left the town, the ash was still blowing, but had settled somewhat. Walking was difficult, but not impossible. Having been told that the Rothan Tomb was "to the right of the road," I climbed the slight rise to that side so that I could see better in the limited visibility. Soon enough, I spotted a tomb entrance cut into the hillside. The runes indicated that it was, in fact, Rothan. Blown ash had drifted across the door, making it impossible to open from inside. Using my shield as an improvised shovel, I was able to scrape away the ash and then blocked the door open with a stone. As my eyes grew accustomed to the dim light inside, I saw a Dunmer standing on the steps. It was Mathis Dalobar. He explained that the ash storm had caught him and that he had lost all his goods, as well as his pack guar. Still, he was happy to have survived, and asked me to escort him to the shrine at Maar Gan so he could give thanks to the ancestors and the Tribunal. Although the ash was still swirling outside, we made the trip without difficulty. I asked Mathis how he could give thanks when he had lost everything, and he replied," "What are things? Trade goods? Pack beasts? I had them; I lost them; I will get more. But my life? I only have one, and so, I give thanks that it was spared."

I had no answer to that, but it gave me much to think about. As I made my way to the silt strider, a Dunmer accosted me, saying he was a "Sleeper" and spouting some nonsense about Dagoth Ur. I told him that I had already donated and that he should go home and sleep it off. Strange- I had thought those fellows were only around Balmora. Whatever was causing this behavior, it was spreading. Someone really needed to find the source of these problems and fix it. Meanwhile, I had other matters to consider. In fact, over the next several days, I would find reason to think deeply about matters of life... and death.

When I made it back to Ald'ruhn, Neminda had a mission that required careful handling. It seemed that a Hlaalu guard named Alvis Teri had stolen a sacred artifact, called a Founder's Helm, from a Redoran tomb. Even worse, he was wearing the Helm and bragging about the theft at the Eight Plates in Balmora. The honor of House Redoran demanded that the Founder's Helm be returned, but it was equally important that the Hlaalu not be murdered. The Eight Plates was known to me- I had done a bit of juggling there to earn extra cash. When I entered, Alvis Teri was easy to recognize- he was the only one in the place wearing a full suit of armor. He recognized me as a Redoran, and was inclined to be rude, but I wanted to resolve this stupidity peacefully if I could. I used every bit of persuasion I could muster, but he wouldn't budge. When I finally offered an outrageous bribe, the stubborn fellow had the audacity to say, "My honor is not for sale."

That was just too much, coming from a member of Hlaalu, a House well-known for their corruption. Enraged , I replied, "The only reason you can't place a value on your 'honor' is because everyone knows it is worthless. If you money-grubbing shop-keepers could sell it, you already would have."

That, plus the fact that Alvis had already had a few drinks before I got there, caused the fool to attack me. That had not been my intention- but I did not shrink from the fight. I did let the lout draw first blood, just to demonstrate what true honor meant. His ambition was not matched by his skill- the biggest problem I had was the bar patrons who kept blocking me. Somehow, they never seemed to get in my opponent's way. Still, none of them actually attacked me, so I had to be careful not to swing wildly and start a general brawl. I didn't think Neminda would be too pleased if I came back and reported killing half of Balmora. Despite the distractions, the fight was quickly over and I wrenched the Founder's Helm from the dead Hlaalu's body. Why didn't the fool just sell the blasted relic to me? If his "honor" had truly been involved, I would have understood. But it wasn't as if I had tried to buy a piece of his House armor- the Helm was stolen property. And no stolen item, no matter how special, is worth dying over. If you get caught, you give up the goods and pay the fine. And you learn not to get caught anymore or else you go into a different line of work. If he had had more honor, he wouldn't have stolen the Helm in the first place. And if he had been a better thief, he wouldn't have bragged about the theft. And most of all, if he had had any sense, he wouldn't have died for it. Amateurs always make life harder for professionals. I was angry with Alvis for giving me no choice and I was angry with myself for not handling him better. Still, it was important that I get the Founder's Helm back in the right hands, so I returned to Ald'ruhn and went to Neminda. She was not at all unhappy about the outcome, and promoted me to Kinsman. She also told me to not worry so much about it- that Alvis had brought it on himself.

That was easy enough to say, but with Mathis' words about faith in my mind and the Hlaalu's blood on my hands, I felt the need to do something to atone. I might not trust the Temple completely, but perhaps my sincerity would be enough to reach whatever gods or spirits there were. Even if they sent me into another Daedric shrine or asked me to face a Dremora lord, it would feel "cleaner." Unfortunately, the test Tuls Valen had in mind was of a different sort. It seemed that a man named Elvil Vidron in Suran had declared himself to be the "Nerevarine" and was preaching and prophesying. The Temple wanted it stopped and they didn't really care how. If I could not convince him of his error, I was supposed to kill him. In Tuls Valen's words,
"If he is the true Nerevarine, he is protected by prophecy and cannot die."

I made up my mind right then that I would not kill the fellow. He might be insane or he might really be a prophet, but I wasn't going to be the Temple's instrument of murder. Just because the government or the Temple ordered something didn't make it right. I had read enough by now to know that there were holes in Temple doctrine that you could drive a guar through. So it was up to me to find another way. Because Suran was some distance away, I rode the silt strider. Elvil wasn't hard to find- he was a shirtless Dunmer standing in the center of the town, preaching about destruction coming from Red Mountain. Not knowing how else to approach the issue, I asked him how he knew he wasn't a False Incarnate. He replied that it would be difficult to prove that he wasn't Nerevar reborn and that he had had the dreams. Then he gave me a piercing look and said, "And you- have you not also experienced the dream?"

I felt a chill run up my spine- for a moment, it was almost as if something ancient and wise and most definitely NOT human looked out of his eyes. Still, I recovered quickly; perhaps this was a way to fulfill the mission and yet not kill the poor fellow. So I responded, "Yes, but you are not the one I envisioned."

For the first time since we had begun talking, Elvil seemed uncertain. Finally, he decided that I was right, bowed his head and promised to do penance. He also thanked me for my wisdom and asked my forgiveness. This was a peculiar place- every time I thought I was beginning to understand it, something would happen that made no sense at all.

Still, Tuls Valen was very happy that I had managed to stop Elvil without violence- he gave me several Exclusive Restore Health potions as a reward. Considering how the Temple felt about giving anything away, I recognized that this was an auspicious gift. Even better, he advanced me several ranks to Adept. Valen then asked if I had completed the pilgrimage to the shrine at Maar Gan. I managed to not tell him that the only visit I had made there was to steal the propylon index. He instructed me to go to the shrine, read the inscription on the rock, and "imitate Vivec's actions." That seemed easy enough, so it was back to the giant flea and off to Maar Gan. I still didn't trust the striders- they had to get hungry sometime and I hadn't seen one eat, yet. I really didn't want to be the test case for whether or not they liked the taste of Breton.
The inscription on the rock detailed how Vivec had taunted Mehrunes Dagon, thus convincing the Daedra Prince to throw a huge rock at him instead of at the Dunmer. Standing off to the right of the shrine was the Dremora that had frightened me so badly when I first came here. Remembering Krazzt, I addressed the Dremora. His response was, "I am Anhaedra. If you are a pilgrim, read the inscription on the stupid rock."

A much ruder Dremora than the one in the Puzzle Canal. Of course, that had been the Shrine of Courtesy. Following Valen's instructions to "imitate Vivec," I taunted Anhaedra, who responded with some fairly imaginative (and disgusting) insults. Finally, he ran out of insults and attacked. I have a feeling he was a weakened Daedra- it was not difficult to best him. I returned to Ald'ruhn, where Tuls Valen rewarded me with another book, "Death Blow of Abernanit." I really liked the rewards the Temple provided- I had gotten two rare books already. My happiness didn't last long, though. Before I could get back to the Redoran hostel, a Bosmer who I had never seen before handed me a note and disappeared without a word. The note simply said, "Sources indicate the cost of Corkbulb Tea will rise soon. Best to get in early."

It was unsigned, but bore a secret mark known to those in the Thieves Guild. One thing I knew immediately- there was no such thing as Corkbulb Tea. That was a code phrase for the Camonna Tong. And in that context, what the note meant was that the Thieves Guild was expecting a major attack and that all members should get under cover as quickly as possible. One of the reasons I never considered joining the Imperial Legion was that I didn't much like them. But the other reason was more fundamental than that- I had never been any good at taking orders. And I was about to prove it again.

Almost from the time I had arrived on Morrowind, I had been tripping over the Camonna Tong. If I was not running head-on into the organization itself, I was being entangled in its influence. They were behind most of the corruption and violent crime on the island. And now they were threatening the Thieves Guild and, by extension, me. Maybe the Dark Brotherhood was out of reach in Mournhold, but I knew right where I could lay hands on the Camonna Tong. It had taken me far too long, but I had finally learned that I couldn't run from bullies. It was better to face them- even if it meant taking a beating. A beating was better than living in fear. And what was the Camonna Tong but the biggest, meanest bully around? It was time for them to learn that I would not be pushed.

While I rode the strider to Balmora, I checked my supplies; my armor and weapons were fully repaired and charged; I should have enough Restore Health potions to see me through, and I could use Almsivi Intervention if not. Most of all, I had an unquenchable rage, a fury burning at my core, that had been kindled when I took the first blow from my "foster father" back at the inn. For most of my life, I had been careful to keep the fires of that rage damped down, to never let it escape. Now, instead of trying to dampen the flames, I fed them. Every blow I had taken, every insult I had been forced to swallow as a "charity-case bastard," all the indignities of being arrested and sent to this gods-forsaken island, all of it was fuel for my resolve. In that moment, I became the avatar of vengeance for every slave, every victim, every oppressed Khajiit or Argonian on Morrowind. Fury did not have to mean madness, though. There were five that had been marked to die; four were left. The smith I had dealt with when I solved Ralen Hlaalo's murder; that left the scout, the savant, the thief, and the pawnbroker. They would all be at the Council Club. If I simply went in swinging my sword, I might very well fail. And even if I survived, the result would probably be a death warrant- every guard's hand would be against me. I would need to isolate them and goad them into attacking first. My instincts told me that the thief and the scout would likely be the most dangerous, the ones with weapons expertise. So I would need to find Vadusa Sathryon or Madrale Thirith first and get them away from the others. That cold calculation contrasted with the fire that raged in my soul as I entered the Council Club and went downstairs.

In the bar area were Sovor Trandel, the Savant; Vadusa Sathryon, the Scout; and Marasa Aren; the Pawnbroker. The fourth person in the room was the bartender, so where was Thirith? I ignored the people in the bar for the moment and went on into the lowest level of the club. Before I started anything, I needed to see the lay of the land. That proved to be a fortuitous choice, for there at the bottom of the ramp was Madrale Thirith, just stepping out of a small bedroom. The hallway was isolated and I was between her and the exit. This should work to my advantage, provided I could keep all the others from coming in behind me. I honestly don't remember what I said to provoke the Camonna thief into attacking me- whatever it was, it worked. She may have been a competent thief, but she could barely use the sword she carried. Even though her blade was enchanted, she hardly injured me before I struck her down. That first blood-letting only increased my fury. I seemed to hear a voice in my head, saying, "Kill them all. Let no one escape." Silent as death, I made my way back up the hall to the doorway at one end of the bar and scanned the room.

Unfortunately, I could not lure any of the others away from the group, so I got into the most defensible position I could and began making insulting remarks just loud enough for Marasa Aren to hear. I said something about House Hlaalu being the result of the unnatural mating of a guar and the Hlaalu founder; I bragged about killing Thanelen Velas; I even asked her what she wanted to do with the dead body of Virith downstairs. Finally, she had had enough and charged at me with her fists clenched. Unfortunately, the other two saw what was happening and joined in. Only Sathryon had a weapon, though, and the other two got in his way. I could swing at any one of them without worrying about it, while they had to avoid hitting each other. It was brutal and it was bloody and it ended quickly. I left them where they had fallen and walked out the door without a backward glance. It was time to go to Fort Moonmoth and see a man about a bloodbath.

Larrius Varro was his usual self- the only sign that he was at all pleased was a slight lessening of his perpetual frown. It was just as well, in my state of mind I would have probably punched him if he had laughed and joked. But no, Varro was a man who understood what it took to do the hard things. He knew there was nothing here to joke about. He handed me a Ring of Surroundings- the Emperor's "little present," and then, because I had managed the job without "creating any problems of a legal nature," he gave me a book from his own collection. That surprised me so much that I think I might have sounded almost civil when I thanked him. As I left the fort, I gave serious thought to tossing the Emperor's "present" into the Odai River. But in the end, I kept it. I put it on a chain and hung it around my neck as a reminder of the chains that emperors and empires put on us all. A man may believe himself free, may even live his life as if he is free; but, one day, there will come a pull on the chain and he will have to go where it takes him. I still have that ring. And the chain. And I still remember. Please the gods, someday I may be able to forget.

Here Ends Chapter 5