"I have encountered the Sixth House once, actually," Gerald responded quickly, chin in hand. "At least, I think it was. Our client claimed they were, and the creatures I found sounded like some of the rumors I heard." He held his other hand up to his face, making a clawing motion over his eyes. "There were Dunmer, pale and bloodless, like zombies, with their face... it was a hole, like a beast ate their skull and left the mouth behind. And a Dunmer in robes wielding magic. But his face... the... he had a snout, like an elephant from Hammerfall." Gerald had difficulty describing it, and made an example with his hand.


"They were thankfully few in number, and just the one used spells. They had been bothering caravans on local trade routes and the Fighter's Guild was paid by the merchants to deal with it. I took two men with me, and one of them almost didn't come home." Gerald glanced to the Ordinator with a gaze of regretful understanding. "If you, being an Ordinator, have dealt with more of them than I, I see why you claim what you claim. I can only fathom how they must be on a battlefield." His head and shoulders shook briefly, as if a cold overcame him. That particular mission had been unpleasant at best, and nightmarish at worst. To end the life of a man who can only scream back, clawing at your feet because his broken legs can lift him no higher, and see him look at you with no eyes; your own mind fills in that blank, and you create eyes. And they are always, always, so much worse than the ones you wish he still had.

"Is it true, that the Blight is the Sixth House's responsibility?" Gerald looked to Tharer for an answer. If what this Ordinator said was correct, that meant there was a cult of people specifically out there to harm their fellow men and mer. Gerald's skin prickled at the thought; he loathed no one more than someone who injured others just to prove a point.

"Yes," The Temple Master responded with some hesitance. "Our current understanding of the Blight suggests a strong correlation between Sixth House activity and the plague. The 'how' is still being researched, but the evidence is strong they play a part."

"Then I still stand by what I said before." Gerald slapped his knee and smiled. "Defeat the Blight, wrestle Corprus into submission, and the people will come to you. If we have to stop the Sixth House to do it, then that will just be part of the plan. I was unaware you considered them lost faithful though, or dissident people. I thought they were merely enemies of the Three. But either way, if they are responsible for this Blight," Gerald rose from his seat and turned to face the Ordinator in the golden cloak, holding out his hand amiably. "then the mace and shield of Gerald Nibelese are yours to command, sera. I am all for people believing what they want, but my tolerance ends when they turn those beliefs against the innocent," he declared with clenched jaw and for once his tone became harshly serious.


While Gerald spoke truth, there was a reason to his dedication he dared not yet share. If the Sixth House was going after Temple believers, and was causing the Blight, it would only be a matter of time before they got to his family in Balmora. His wife and son were regulars at every mass prayer, and often went to pray to Vivec that Gerald would find his favor while on the job. If the Sixth House was the true threat, then Gerald would take them down.

She kept an eye on the young lord as his gaze swept over her, rehearsing spells in her mind in case they became necessary. The magic binding her clanfear to the mortal realm was beginning to fail, but she doubted this Sinclaire was the sort of man to try attacking her in the street, if at all.

'Despite our initial greetings,' he said to her, 'I find it a pleasure to meet you.'

Vyktoria laughed softly at that, closing her eyes and covering her mouth with her fingers. 'I'll no doubt manage to convince you differently, my dear Lettreux. Though I appreciate your courtesy, for what it's worth.' She lowered her hand, the laugh lines leaving her face as she once again matched the youth's look. 'As for my presence here in Morrowind? Let us say it is a matter of Imperial business, and leave the speculation there.' It's likely best that I not stumble around like a drunken oaf, advertising Cosades' name to any lack-wit within earshot. She raised an eyebrow. 'And you have my thanks for your compliment, unintentional as it may have been. I shudder at the thought of blending in with this desolate place.'

Her attention shifted towards Ja'Rikki. 'I'm afraid I'm not entirely familiar with the laws surrounding slavery in Morrowind, my dear. If you can call the customs related to such barbarity "laws" at all. Nor can I speak as to how such laws are enforced. Or overlooked.' She scanned the nearby streets and avenues, unsure of what it was she was dreading to find looking back at her. Sighing, she looked back at the khajiit. 'Perhaps it would be best if you accompanied me for a time, Miss Ja'Rikki, at least until we have some idea of what to do with you. You seem to be somewhat out of sorts, and Morrowind is a dangerous enough land for those with full command of their faculties.'

She looked back to Sinclaire. 'Unless you've some pressing business here in Balmora, my dear Lettreux, perhaps you would care to join us? I'm certain once my business here in the city is attended to, I could safely see the two of you to the local Legion garrison.' And then leave the task of babysitting to the guardsmen there. 'It would, after all, be terribly negligent of me to leave such a noble, well-dressed young man as yourself unattended, particularly in this alien part of the world.'

Group 1

Just outside Balmora, North end of Odai River

Stumbling down the road, Yuu’Ko aims to reach the nearest town as soon as possible. However, the sweltering midday heat bears down upon her and with mouth parched she decides it couldn’t hurt to rest a moment and refill her water pitcher. Kneeling down at the adjacent river she fails to notice a figure fast approaching on the dirt road behind her.

It is only when the knife sticks her in the side that she realises she is not alone. Were it not for her leather jerkin, the blade would likely be inch deep in her flesh.

“Coin purse now!” A gruff voice demands.

Yuu’Ko tilts her head towards her captor and sighs, “really?”

The man is a Dunmer. A greasy and heavyset bruiser whose crowning facial feature is a large nose that has clearly been broken several times. His arms are thick and blanketed with dark matted hair. He presses the steel blade a little closer into Yuu’Ko’s side and grunts whilst gesturing with his free hand for her to pass over her money.

“You’re out of luck,’ Yuu’Ko slants her eyes and points an accusatory clawed finger toward the man’s face. She almost laughs at he absurdity as she explains, ‘Yuu’Ko has already been robbed this day by one of yours.”

He growls and grabs her wrist in his fat fingers. She winces as he effortlessly hauls her to her feet.

‘I think it’s you who’s out of luck little missy,’ the man leers and grins, ‘I can still fetch a fine price for you.’

Yuu’Ko realises she won’t be able to easily break his grip but refuses to go down without a fight. She still has one hand free and a dagger stowed out of his sight.

‘You bandits are all the same,’ she hisses in a low tone. Then in an act of unexpected defiance she shrieks, ‘you stinking guar!’

It distracts him briefly but not quite long enough for Yuu’Ko to grasp her weapon; her free hand does reach the dagger but it slips as she pulls the hilt and her blade hits the soft riverbank with a comical plop.

This seems to annoy her captor greatly and he contorts his face into the nastiest of snarls. Yuu’Ko braces herself for what she is sure to come next.

Group 1

Just outside Balmora, North end of Odai River.

Eyl’Yti rests beneath the shade of a large tree, escaping the midday heat. The sounds of a nearby river carry him in an almost meditative state as he waits for the right time to head into town. Since he was a child he has suffered oppression at the hands of the Dunmer people; he is therefore in no rush to enter a town inhabited predominately by Dark Elves.

For now he will wait.

Suddenly Eyl’Yti hears a distinctly feline shriek from nearby. He jumps up and scurries through the brush toward the commotion. As he reaches the water’s edge, he spies a large Dunmeri man across the river; bearing down over a young Khajiiti woman. Witnessing him twist her arm brings a memory back to Eyl’Yti which cracks like a breaking bone in his mind. A trigger memory for him that enrages him into action.

He reaches into his sleeve and procures a small throwing knife. Without hesitating he hurls the blade toward the bandit; sticking the man right below the knee. The Dunmer falls in agony and releases the Khajiit woman from his grip.

Group 1

Yuu’Ko pinches her eyes shut and grits her teeth; certain that any moment this brute of a bandit will strike her down.

To her utter surprise and delight the next sound she hears is an excruciating wail from her assailant. Her wrist is set free. She opens her eyes just in time to see the bandit slump to the floor. The Dunmer is clutching his left leg and curses loudly as he scrabbles to remove the dagger that is now embedded beneath his knee cap.

‘Ha!’ Yuu’Ko triumphantly sneers. Then realising she has no idea who threw the dagger she instinctively reaches for her bow.

At first she trains her arrow on the Dunmer. Flustered she quickly scans the surrounding area but cannot see, smell or hear anyone moving. Is it another bandit? The Dunmer groans as his leg twitches; it appears the dagger has hit the perfect spot to make his nerve reflex spasm uncontrollably and between the blood and yellow fluid seeping from his wound he is having a hard time pulling the blade out.

Satisfied that he won’t be moving any time soon Yuu’Ko flits the sight of her bow across the bushes. Still she sees nothing. ‘Who’s out there?’ She demands in the boldest voice she can muster, ‘show yourself!’

Eyl’Yti considers whether to answer or simply slip away. It is close approaching the time he needs to go to the meeting place and he cannot get distracted now, tending to this woman. Yet his thoughts won’t allow him to leave.

It is odd to see a bandit this close to town, he must have been following her for a while.

There could be more of them close by, if I turn away now she may be in for worse.

Eventually he decides to speak out and steps out of hiding with hands raised. “Fear not, This one is but a humble beggar. It heard you were in trouble.” Eyl’Yti looks down at the crippled man for a moment. “Lucky shot perhaps.” He rubs the back of his head and smiles awkwardly.

Zethan listened carefully what was being said and he agreed. Divayth Fyr had been indifferent about sharing what they knew or would find out about the disease but when asked about it, he had given permission to share details on the disease and what Zethan himself found out. Zethan didn't seem to be surprised by what the imperial and the ordinator said about some of the diseased having self-inflicted facial disfigurement. He didn't want to take any part in disproving either of the deities mentioned. His beliefs did not matter.

'I will share what I know and what we have gathered. With you and the people.' The telvanni said and nodded in agreement.

'If all I've shared so far has been common knowledge, I can share something that is not.' He began. 'The disease doesn't seem to be of natural origin. We have witnessed the transformation that some go through.' He said referring to the horrifics described by the two.

'Even though it might seem like two different strains of corprus, they are one and the same. Some just react to it differently.' He continued and thought of how to explain his master's suspicions. 'My master says the disease is not from this realm. He suspects it's daedric in origin but so far we haven't seen signs of breaches by the daedric princes.' Zethan paused for a moment.

'It might as well be connected to the sixth house according to the delusions of some of our research subjects.' Zethan wanted to let the idea sink in.

Group 2


Velron watched as the other members of the group were introduced, and his earlier thoughts about this being a test of his faith were still holding true as the outlanders and Telvani began to speak. The Inquisitor admitted silently that he knew nothing of the true nature of the blight and coprus, but those who were speaking all spoke as if they had the authority to decide on the direction that they must proceed in.


But these outlanders and others were chosen by the temple and therefore by ALMSIVI themselves, their indiscretions must be tolerated by mere mer following the will of his gods. As the Imperial continued to speak, Verlon learned more about this man.. about his faith to the Nine Divines, to his origins from t he Mainland rather than Vvardenfell itself. An outlander who is also a native in essence, who serves other beliefs yet would aid our faith in a time of need.. Curious but there is something more.. one would not change his tune so quickly unless there was something that the man has to lose..


Even though the blight, coprus and Sixth House were indeed important, it was not the only cause of the loss of faith.. something that Verlon had been in charge of investigating for sometime prior being requested at Molag Mar. If the Temple Master was telling the others more about the blighted creatures and Sixth House, that would mean that there was something else causing the faithless to increase, and that would become Verlon's focus he was sure of it.


Glancing at the Imperial with his hand outstretched to Avarys, he cocked his head in a curious fashion. It appeared the two at least had similar views on some things, but cast variation in opinion in many others. In the end though the Tribunal in essence has given him this group to aid the region and in doing so bolstering the faith and therefore their strength to push back and cure the blight in all of the land.


However, even if it was ALMSIVI's will for these outlanders, Telvanni and those of other faith to be a part of this party on their quest to bring the faithful back, then he would do it, but he didn't need to show any more weakness by openly saying so.. He already had shown on two counts his surprise about these outlanders and again by the fact they were also a part of the group. Lord Mother Wizard! these meetings were not coincidental.. the three must have more up their sleeve in testing my faith.. now more than ever. I must be vigilant.. am forever their servant.


Verlon had been silent throughout the conversation, merely being an observer. After his recent outbursts, to maintain his image, he must contain his anger. But that did not apply to the cultist or any dissidents he finds among both the faithless.. and faithful alike.


after some time deliberating within himself he glanced to the Temple Master. "Muthsera, has there been any reports within the city or blight? If it is the work of this sixth house, surely to attack us, they would first need to hide within our walls.. our ranks?" He glanced at the others who have looked at part of the problem but not another.


Pondering for a moment the Temple Master nodded. "We have heard troubling reports of sickly rats in the sewers below our city.. some of the blight afflicted claimed to have been attacked by these sickly looking creatures.."


"Then perhaps that could indeed be a place to begin our search. However the one behind it.. if it is indeed the Sixth House would either be nearby, or hiding in the populace waiting for the moment to strike. The question remains what lead would yield the highest result for removing the threat?" He asked openly to the group before him.


"My expertise is not in how to combat the blight, whether it be the sixth house or the disease of blight and corpus.. but it is how to find those trying to hide. You may not know me or my methods seras, however i do bring results. We may be able to cleanse the blight, but without the ones responsible it may return. Therefore, our goals must be two-fold. One cannot succeed without the other and as such we must try to find the source and those behind it"

Upon hearing Sinclaire speaking casually of slavery, Ja'Rikki's mind rebelled. Nothing about that statement was correct.

'Slavery is legal here? A 'free Khajiit'? As opposed to.. Oh, gods. What in the hell is wrong with these people?' Rikki shouted within the confines of her skull. The very idea revolted her, and the conclusion she'd drawn was that her kind seemed to be especially targeted for this kind of thing.

Vyktoria continued the thought, adding her own comments to the sentiment that slavery was just a thing that sort of happened around here. She was about to say something in disgust when a statement sank in that both she and Sinclaire had said; she was in Morrowind.

'Wait.. Did they say.. Morrowind? I'm.. I'm in Morrowind?!'

Up until this point, the young Khajiit had paid little attention to her actual surroundings. Tentatively, the girl glanced around her. Dust, ash, strange looking buildings and stranger looking people made up the world directly around her. Stone seemed to be the order of the day for design. Some primordial kind of giant bat drifted through the air in the distance.

Rikki blinked in disbelief. She replayed the conversation again in her head to make sure of it. The Khajiit felt sick.


"I.. I'll just.. follow you guys wherever. I.. I don't care where. I need to walk," she stammered weakly.

Group One:



"As a matter of fact, I also have some business of my own here in Balmora." Sinclaire revealed, responding to Vyktoria's offer. Her subtlety involving her 'Imperial business' intrigued him. Briefly, he thought of the letter he had read just a short time ago. Surely there was no correlation..?


Yet, the possibility bothered him. He gave the mage a measured look, a look that seemed to reflect a secret known between the two of them. "My business is on the east side of the city," he began, throwing an intentional glance toward the tree he saw there in the distance. Sinclaire hoped Vyktoria would pick up on this subtle hint if indeed she happened to have anything to do with this Caius Cosades business. "I have somebody to meet."


Meanwhile, his curiousity with the Imperial ensured Ja'Rikki's reaction and subsequent weak reply went almost entirely unnoticed. If a member of the Shadow Legion was sent to Balmora on the same day, in the same city he was to meet this contact, then perhaps their meeting was no coincidence after all. Even worse, if his fate were intertwined with that of a Shadow Legionnaire, then danger was assuredly around the corner.

"What am I walking into here? A trap, or perhaps something worse..?" he pondered, jade eyes still set on Vyktoria's.

Eyra nodded her approval during the Imperial's speech. Finally, someone with common sense. Their combined efforts seemed to convince the wizard that Fyr's knowledge should be shared. But the reports the others gave about the Sixth House were disturbing.


A long time ago, before she was forsaken by her own people, Eyra had grown up in the firm belief that all living thing were connected, that they were all creatures of the All-Maker and that every death meant new life, every end a new beginning. She had worshipped so many gods since, so Manu cults and religions, whether they believed in one God or Nine or now Three, but deep within her, some inherent part of her still felt sick to her very soul when hearing reports of the twisted creatures reportedly serving this Sixth House.


There was something else that did not sit easy with her.


"The people that were attacked by the rats in the sewers... I treated some of them." They had been scared, confused. At the time, she had dismissed it as a combination of shock and early symptoms of the blight.


"They weren't workers or skooma dealers or any other people with reason to be in the sewers; those that were coherent enough all said they never ventured into the sewers before. One didn't even know Molag Mar had sewers, poor fool."


"My point is, none of them knew why they were in the sewers when they were attacked. They didn't even know how they got there. And they were all found at night or in the morning. It's as if they walked there whilst they were sleeping."


A lot of people had complained about nightmares in recent days. Some had asked for sleeping potions, some for something to increase their endurance so they wouldn't need to sleep. Eyra had heard other rumours about people waking up in different rooms of their houses, or in different parts of the city altogether, without remembering going to sleep. It was another part of the unease plaguing the city.


"If you think that there are those within the city acting against the Temple... I hope you have methods beyond those your order is best known for, Inquisitor. Because those you suspect may not know what it is they are doing."

Group One

Alan got into his room in a hurry, and started packing his gear. You never knew what this Caius-fellow wanted, so best be prepared to leave in a hurry. The innkeep entered with a bucket of water, suspicious as to Alan's motives with regards to this bucket. Alan could calm the innkeep's suspicions instantly as the bucket was placed on the floor, for he threw his head well into the cold water for a few seconds, before quickly surfacing again, gasping for air. He shook his head, shaking off some water, but also worsening his now apparent headache. [censored] he thought with a sigh.

"Thank you" Alan told the innkeep on departure. His travelling gear donned, and backpack on his back along with his long sword. A tired expression on his face, he set off to find the apothecary, hoping Larry was still waiting for him there.

-

At the sight of Larry on the crates outside the, Alan let out an inadible sigh. Caius was in reach, and he'd be done with whatever was needed by him in no time. Maybe Caius was going to pay him in advance?

"Hey there, Larry!" Alan greeted with a wave. "We meet again, and maybe in a bit sobrer circumstances this time. Which way to Caius, or are we waiting for someone else?"

Group One

'Yes, I'm Caius Cosades. Who's asking?' He crossed muscular arms, visible through the worn fabric of his ragged shirt, and levelled a hard gaze at Nevena.

Nevena hesitated. Poor this man might be, but it was clear there was more to him than met the eye. Regular folk tended not to have muscles that spoke to combat training, nor such a calculating look in their eyes. She felt that she was being weighed, and it took all her nerve to stop herself from squirming. 'N-nevena Veloth,' she said. She withdrew the letter from her small satchel and offered it to him.

'Veloth, eh?' He scanned the letter, nodding as if in answer to a question. 'Ah. Not been clued in, then.'

'No, sir,' Nevena said weakly, reverting to Imperial ways now she was faced with such a Cyrodillic man.

Caius nodded again. 'Imprisoned in the Imperial City itself, I hear.'

'Yes, sir,' Nevena said, 'But I don't know why.'

'Doesn't matter why. What's important, is that you're going to use your talents to work off your sentence. And I'll get to that just as soon as the others arrive.'

Nevena's mind was spinning. So the Empire wanted to use her to a purpose? She hadn't known she was even on its radar. But as for her talents ... well, she was as good as useless now, and all too aware of it.

Questions queued up in her head, but she thought she'd start with the most immediate one. 'Pardon me, sir, but ... what others?'

(Group One)

Oh, Julianos, no...

The Blade operative who had spoken to her and her commanding officer in Cyrodiil had explained that she might be required to work with others on this mission. Of course, Vyk had expected men and women from other branches of the Imperial military: other members of the Legion, Blades, perhaps even a handful of mercenaries if the situation was truly desperate. But this man? Sinclaire looked the sort that belonged in an office in Ebonheart, counting coin for the East Empire Company. He certainly didn't look suited to field work. Yet everything the lad had said regarding his "business" in the city, his gestures and eye movements, suggested the two of them had been summoned to the same purpose.

As you say, Akatosh: I serve and obey my Emperor, she thought, narrowing her eyes at the young lord and sighing. 'So be it,' she said, motioning - unwittingly, for one might have mistaken her for an impatient mother - for both the young Lettreux and Ja'Rikki to follow along behind her. 'Let us attend to this business then, shall we?'

Vyktoria proceeded to the northeast corner of the city, and towards the tree where she had been told Cosades would be waiting. There, she saw a well-muscled Imperial fitting the description she'd been given of Cosades, and he was speaking to the Ashlander girl she'd spotted earlier.

'Well,' Vyk said, approaching from behind the young Dunmer lass. 'It seems as though the two of us are fated to keep running into one another, doesn't it?' She took up position alongside the girl, then turned her attention towards her fellow Imperial. 'Caius Cosades, I take it? Vyktoria Spellbinder, of the Imperial Shadow Legion. Reporting as requested.'

Group One

Nevena visibly crumpled upon Vyktoria's appearance. She took a few steps aside, and her hands twitched at her sides, half-forming a spell of invisibility but her instincts were wrong, they were wrong, and her hands stilled with the spell un-cast.

'Pardon me, sir, but I think I have somewhere to be --'

'You don't,' Caius said amiably, but with the steel of authority behind it, and Nevena fell silent.

This just kept getting worse and worse. Ever since she had been cursed, she had lost the ability to rely on her foresight, to take hold of her own destiny and see the way the threads wove and parted. Once, time had been an intricate tapestry which she would study and trace and use to her advantage. Now, she was blind, powerless, and afraid. Captured against her will for no discernible reason, exiled from Cyrodiil, the only place she had ever remained long enough to call home, and now forced to work off a sentence she knew nothing about with a woman she was fairly certain would not blink an eye at cold murder.

Shadow Legion, Nevena thought, pressing her lips together and tightening her grip on her staff. She said she belongs to the Imperial Shadow Legion.

Were they perhaps the same strangely garbed Legionnaires who had kidnapped her?

I believed in the Empire once, she thought bitterly. I gave the Emperor my loyalty and lived as an honest citizen of the Empire.

She had been repaid only with threats and fear.

Group 1

Larry Wall - Balmora

Larry handed Alan both bottles and smirked, "Hey drink these - You do look a lot better but these should help with any lingering effects." He jumped off the crate and noticed how slow his legs were at pushing him back upright. I need to sleep, soon. Or stop, but Larry wouldn't think about stopping while awake - Too much time to think, to fidget and to find delights that took away the time for thoughts. "Say Alan, I don't know where you're from." He turned to face the man as they walked towards Caius' strange hideout, "But I really wouldn't recommend telling anyone about Caius or your work. If anyone asks, just give them an excuse, doesn't matter how awful; everyone here has something to hide so they'd expect nothing more than a lie." He bit into the apple and let it's crunch break the silence.

They turned a corner and Larry noticed he was apparently late to the soiree as Caius was currently surrounded by four other agents. Deliberately he slowed his step to an almost crawl, "Slow down Alan, just wanna see what it is we're walking into. It pays to be patient with these things." He stated, hiding his annoyance at once again, being late to one of Caius' meetings. He was always late.

Caius was topless, as always and Larry smirked in admiration. Amazing, you never know what to expect from Caius but, yet he never disappoints. Larry eyed the old imperial with pride, "There is he, the greatest spymaster you'll ever meet." He pointed and turned his attention to the others, a nord by accounts due to how tall the pale skinned stranger stood; dressed in grey and gold, he looked wealthy and quite a valuable target for any thief or bandit. There was another pale skinned stranger, she stood tall and proud but wore basic clothes, a lord in disguise? Or perhaps a wealthy merchant or soldier? He rested upon soldier and turned to the practically microscopic Dunmer beside them. She looked so set aside from the conversation that Larry wasn't too sure if she was even part of it or a bystander stopping for air. He frowned at her particular attitude, she looked like a weathered traveller but without any of the confidence. "Strange one that Dunmer, wouldn't you say?"

He then turned to his attention to the Khajiit. A gangly member of the Suthay Raht species. Like most of her species, she wore extravagant clothing and adorned her ears with rings. He nodded in satisfaction, assured that while he'd never met any of them, he was fairly sure that they were agents of the empire or were about to be - As it was in Alan's case.

"Hey Cosades!" Larry called out with a wave as he entered a socially acceptable range for conversation. He took care to never use the imperials firstname out of respect, after all, Caius was his idle and Larry would do anything to svck up to the man.

"Larry, good to see you looking well." The Imperial raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. "Who's this you have?"

"Dedication to the cause," He looked to the Dunmer and winked, she still looked afraid and that annoyed Larry for some reason, "This is Alan, met him in the bar." He turned his attention back to Caius, his face straining to become sincere and serious, "Reporting for duty sir."

Caius simply sighed and raised his hand towards Larry, "This is Larry, he's an agent of mine here."

Group 2

When the Outlander claimed to have encountered the Sixth House, Avarys eyes' were wide open. He listened as the Outander explained the encounter. The Cyrod was a member of the Fighters Guild. He was paid to protect traveling merchants from increasing attacks by the Sixth House. Avarys began sweating when the outlander correctly described the appearances of the Cultists. The pale white skin... The empty hole in their faces... It reminded Avarys once again of that day.... He suddenly blacked out, staring blankly and at nowhere....

=============================================================================

Northern Vvardenfell.

The ash storm blew endlessly on the Ordinators. They were forced to stay close and ride slowly on their guars as to not lose each other. They were wondering for what seemed like hours. . They tried keep moving west as to eventually find their encampment. However, the rough terrain forced them to change directions multiple times. Combined this with not being able to see anything in this storm, they were completely lost.

"N'chow!" an Ordinator shouted. Avarys recognised the voice as Velan, one of his officers. Velan happened to be next to Avarys, whom turned his head towards the man.

"Remain composed" he said to Velan. "The last thing to do now is to lose composure."

Velan nodded. "I understand Muthsera. It's just unbelievable. Two ash storms in One day!"

"Silence." Avarys abruptly ordered. He was getting annoyed by Velan. "You should know, there have been more and more ash storms these days. It's not uncommon to have five of them in one day. And they always come with no warning. Right now is not ideal, but complaining about it won't help. You're an officer. You're men looks up to you. If you break, they all break. I will not let that happen."

Velan nodded and did not respond. Avarys could not see his facial expression with the ash blowing everywhere. Andrendos suddenly approached Avarys.

"As you know, we lost Hornalacor." he said silently to Avarys, as to avoid other Ordinators hearing. "I'm sure you know we cannot wonder out here in the storm forever. This one's severe, even more so than usual. This could last for days at worst."

Avarys nodded. He agreed with the Inquisitor. "At this point, finding the encampment is a lost cause for now. We need to search for a cave to find shelter and wait this storm out. Then we'll find the camp." Easier said than done. Even when the storm dies down, they're still lost. They could be anywhere at this point.

But Andrendos seemed to agreed. "This is perhaps the best we can do. Let's pray this doesn't last as long as I feared. Food is in short supply. Enough to last a day.

Avarys sighed. "We'll have to make it last then."

After a while, they've eventually found a cave, and it was big enough for all the Ordinators present. Avarys left a few sentries outside the cave. The rest merely waited.

Avarys prayed to ALMSIVI every hour they were to end the storm, but nothing happened. Then night approached, and the storm still raged. Avarys was praying once again.

"Blessed Three of the One True Faith, your greatest of servants, protectors of the faithful, requires your help once again. We are lost and besieged by a storm. We cannot continue your mission. I beg you for help. Free us from this storm so that we can continue to protect the faithful." When he was done, an Ordinator approached him.

"Muthsera, we have a problem." he said. "The sentries were found dead by their relievers. Their hearts were cut from their bodies.

Within a second, Avarys rushed towards the exit. He found at least twenty of his men outside, lined up in a defensive formation. Behind them were a few other Ordinators and Adrendos, examining four corpses of what were the sentries.

"I thought I sent out five sentries." Avarys said. "Where is the other?"

Adrendos looked at Avarys. "I have no answer Hornalacor." he said. "As you know, he did not report back. I am assuming he has survived whoever attacked the sentries, but for whatever reason, ran out into the storm."

Avarys grimaced at the thought of this. "But why?" he asked.

Adrendos replied without delay. "Most likely he was captured by whoever did this. This missing Ordinator, Valisi, would unlikely to have just murder his comrades. Why the attackers would capture him and kill the others... I do not know."

Avarys was frustrated. "And their hearts, they're gone. Who could of done this?"

The Inquisitor just stared at Avarys. "Just think. Who would do such foul acts? Such foulness that not even the Ashlanders would even think to do?

Then Avarys became at the realization... "By ALMSIVI...."

Suddenly, strange, unnatural, and horrific screams from what sounds like many pierced Avarys' ears. What in Vivec's was that?" said an Ordinator.

Not even a moment later, from the ashclouds, humanoids could be barely seen in the ash cloud, slowly they approached the cave, they also began howling.

Avarys' for the first time in a while, felt fear stabbing his heart. "We are in trouble." he said. He ordered an Ordinator to alert the men in the cave.

The strange figures then charged at unnatural speed, clashing with the formation within seconds. Avarys and the few other Ordinators joined them to help fend them off. Adrendos rained fire on the attackers. Avarys could not see what they looked like as they moved so fast in the storm. He noticed some had weapons, and some fought with only their bare hands. Avarys fought frantically, casting fire magic on the enemy and dodging as much blows as he can while trying to pierce with his spear. However, the Ordinators were already starting to falter. Avarys was suddenly tackled by one the attackers, hitting the ground violently. He looked at the man, if you could call it such, on top of him. It horrified Avarys. It looked like a dunmer, but it's skin was gravely pale. And it's face..... It did not had one. Where the face once was is now a hole... With nothing in it. Only the mouth of the thing remained. The Creature grabbed his sword, and went to make a fatal blow to Avarys... Until a spear went busted through the monster's chest. A fellow Ordinators grabbed Avarys up. The men finally got out the cave and strengthened the line.

The skirmish went on for hours it seemed. Avarys and Adrendos rallied the Ordinators to keep fighting. For if they fail they all die. The last effort of the enemy to break the Ordinators were more of these creatures. Six of them came to join the battle. They had holes too like the rest of them, except some strange snout-like thing grew out of the hole. They cast magic at the Ordinators, killing many of them. Only from Adrendos' magic were they able to fend of the monsters' magic. It went on, but eventually, all the creatures were slain by the time day came. Avarys looked around, it was a hollow victory. Only Eight Ordinators survived. Avarys looked at Adrendos, exhausted. "We can't stay here. We must head back to camp.

============================================================

Avarys snapped out of it. He looked around, sweating. He was back in the temple. Away from some of the memories that's been haunting him. He missed what the outlander was saying. He sighed to himself and just listened to what was being said now. He prayed no one noticed that.

Avarys continued to look around. For whatever reason, he did not quite noticed the Cyrodiilic outlander approaching him with his hands reaching out to the Ordinator. It must of been a while, as the foreigner's face was that of confusemant.

"Sera?" the Outlander asked.

Avarys paused for a moment. He did not wanted anyone to notice his recent lapse. But it seems he might have gone back there too long.

"Forgive me Outlander." he said. "It seems I have lost my focus. I cannot recall what you have said." He became more embarrassed than nervous. "Do not worry, this hasn't happened before."

The outlander merely looked at him with confusemant, but spoke.

"It is alright sera." he said. "Allow me to repeat, I am at your command, but I will not murder innocents on this journey."

Avarys did not know what Verlon would think of this statement, but it did not matter right now, "That is understandable." he said. "The Ordinators are to protect the faithful after all. And the Faithful are the innocents in this mess."

Group 1 (Joint post between KoRRoDEAD and I)

Yuu’Ko wasn’t expecting a fellow Khajiit to emerge from the undergrowth.

“And who are you?” The tension in her bow wavers as she looks him up and down. The man is dressed in tattered rags, his dark fur is dishevelled and face marred with scars. “No humble beggar could throw a dagger at that distance,” Yuu’Ko spits and glances over her shoulder again in case this man has an accomplice. The man makes no threatening moves and so far as she can tell, he is acting alone.

“This one’s name is Eyl’Yti.” He responds most directly. He is impressed at her deductive skills in seeing through his fa?ade. “And no, it is not a beggar as it said it was.”

Yuu’Ko relaxes her grip on the bow string and lets it fall loose. She doesn’t sheath the arrow. “Why did you save me?” she mutters in a rhetorical fashion, “that was no lucky shot.”

The Dunmer continues to writhe in the mud of the riverbank. He has managed to remove the dagger from his knee but cannot seem to find his feet in the slippery sod. His constant cursing and moaning is a distraction.

“I shall put him out of his misery,” Yuu’Ko nods to the Khajiit. She takes the arrow, redraws her bow and makes a clean shot into the Dunmer’s chest.

Eyl’Yti does not flinch at the action and is quietly impressed by her readiness to take a life, even if it is one held by a worthless Dunmer bandit. After a few moments the elf falls silent.

“There now,” Yuu’Ko jests, “we can talk in peace.” She clips her bow back onto its quiver.

Slicking back her ears she sighs and tries to assume a confident stance. “So what is it you want from me?” She queries and then laughs, “Yuu’Ko has already been robbed, TWICE today! So this one cannot pay for your services.”

“It does not want your coin.” he states bluntly and ponders for a moment. “Though it may have need of your bow. It has somewhere to be but it would appreciate the company.” Eyl’Yti smiles at the woman and gestures up the hill behind him toward Balmora.

Yuu’Ko eyes him warily and then allows her gaze to follow the direction of his finger. “Balmora?” She questions. Her whiskers twitch and she huffs, “so tell me then, why this one should trust you?”

“Because it will not stop you, should you choose to go your own way. We each make our own path, whether you walk with me, or alone; is up to you.” he turns and makes his way up the hillside; without even glancing to see if she will follow.

“Huh,” Yuu’Ko snorts and folds her arms. She proudly watches him walk away and waits for that moment she knows will happen where he relents and explains himself. When he gets half way up the hill it dawns on her that he isn’t going to turn around. “Damn it,” Yuu’Ko mutters under her breath and rubs her temples, “now I really want to know what that one is up to.”

Wading into the river she shouts, “wait!” She slips twice in the water and doesn’t enjoy the cold soaking. “Wait!” Yuu’Ko calls a second time, “this one will lend you her bow!”

Group 2

Listening to Eyra about her encounters with victims of these blighted rats, the information about the victims not knowing that they had entered the sewers or have no recollection of anything that had occurred.


"If these sleep walkers have been victims of plague from the sewers then there is no denying something is down there.. i have heard of such people being influenced in their dreams.. though nothing unlike this. And i assure you.." Velron pulled out a tiny steel blade not bulky like a dagger with a big handle, not a blade for fighting. a faint green shimmer of light was seen in the sunlight, the blade was enchanted with a paralysis spell, which was very useful for pin point use, and effecting certain body parts.


"Sometimes precision is more necessary than the brutal work my order is known for.. or has the reputation. I don't need to use brutality to get the information i require outlander.." His eyes shimmered for a moment as he looked at her, the look of a predator in his eyes. "Persuasion and Illusion can work just as well to make someone speak, just as a waterboard or other physical interogation can.. After all there's more than one way to skin a khajiit" Verlon chuckled to himself.


Looking at his side he noticed Avarys different than he was a moment ago. The dunmer was sweating even if it was only subtle, the change was apparent to the Inquisitor but he remained silent. It seems that he has experienced much more trauma than i had anticipated after having read his report.. All this talk about the Sixth house really doesn't seem to be helping him. I do not hope that this will reflect badly on myself.. i did suggest to pull him away from his other duties to heal. This may not be healthy.

editied out the part that locks us all, but assume it is still an open invitation for anyone to add anything.

Group 1

Eyl’Yti strides ahead of Yuu’Ko up the increasingly steep hillside. This path is clearly not a route any normal person would take into town. He is aware that Yuu’Ko is following him but he keeps his eyes pinned to the horizon and pretends not to notice. Her ever-present grumbling grows louder with each foot fall. Eyl’Yti smirks and stops abruptly. The woman is still a fair distance behind him.

“So, does it have a name?” He calls back at her.

Panting for breath Yuu’Ko scrabbles the rugged ground and furiously tries to catch up. Still shaking the dank river water from her fur she seethes, “it’s Yuu’Ko.” Frustrated at his lack of patience and inability to wait, she heaves herself up the final rubble boulder to meet this Eyl’Yti eye-to-eye.

“Yuu’Ko,” He repeats.

“Yes, that is what this one said,” she holds his gaze sternly and then exhales deeply, “Oh you are such a pain already.” She sits and rests her head in one hand. “Give Yuu’Ko a moment will you?” She requests and then mutters, “made me chase you all the way up this hill, that’s not a good way to treat this marks.”

Eyl’Yti doesn’t answer but allows her to sit. A haunting flash of memory comes over him. At first the memory is cold and then as it washes forward it feels warmer to his soul. This woman he realises reminds him of his sister, Dar’Asuna. Much like Yuu’Ko his sister always seemed a little helpless on the outside. Dar’Asuna had a knack for getting in and out of trouble and miraculously coming out unscathed. Dar’Asuna had a strong and wholesome heart and was certainly a lot less helpless than she appeared.

As far as Eyl’Yti can tell, this Yuu’Ko shares some of those traits.

“Well Yuu’Ko,” Eyl’Yti enthuses, “It is glad to have your company. It does not know what to expect beyond this point, perhaps danger; or maybe friends. We shall see.”

Yuu’Ko raises her head just enough to give him a snide look. She is quite sure this must be sarcasm. Then Eyl’Yti continues, ‘either way it is good to know you have this one’s back.”

Yuu’Ko’s ears [censored] at the prospect. She decides that it cannot hurt to help Eyl’Yti as he helped her. Yet the idea weighs heavy. She drags her palm down her face and slowly gets to her feet. “Alright your humbleness,” she jokes and gestures, “lead the way.”

Pressing forward higher up the trail the two reach a plateau.

Eyl’Yti looks un-phased from the climb but beneath his dark fur he is sweating. Thankfully Yuu’Ko is gasping too much to notice his state.

Eyl’Yti spies a peculiar group of people gathered around a tree. None of these individuals seem to fit in with each other; they look like incoherent pieces to several different puzzles. It pleases him that the majority here are not elves but men and women. His concerns about the meeting are somewhat eased when he notices that there is another Khajiit in the group.

“So what are we doing here?’ Yuu’Ko purrs. Eyl’Yti gestures for her to be silent and she rolls her eyes in disdain.

Still out of sight, Eyl’Yti unties a scrap of cloth from around his arm and fastens it around his neck. This rag material now covers his most identifying feature; the white patch that earnt him the name Pale-Heart. Yuu’Ko pulls a face at being ignored and has no idea about the relevance of his scarf.

Eyl’Yti knew he would have to be careful entering a Dunmer town. Having freed slaves from the grips of noble houses as well as common bandits he knows there is a high bounty for his head.

Confident he can handle the situation Eyl’Yti walks calmly toward the group. Yuu’Ko follows and hisses “what are we doing?”

Eyl’Yti stops a few feet away from the strangers and nods toward a balding imperial.

He avoids eye contact with anyone else. The imperial named Caius returns the nod with a look of surprise on his face. Even without introduction Caius is smart enough to realise who this black feline is. Caius is less certain about Yuu’Ko; he has never seen this Khajiit before and questions why Eyl’Yti might bring her here.

“And who might this be?” Caius asks.

“I am…” Yuu’ko begins but Eyl’Yti raises a hand to halt her words. Yuu’Ko huffs at being snubbed a second time. She isn’t enjoying this secrecy. Despite her reservations she backs down and allows Eyl’Yti to conduct the meeting.

“She is a business associate,” Eyl’Yti succinctly relates.

“I see.” Caius nods. His tone suggests that he suspects there may be more to this than Eyl’Yti is letting on. Caius smiles falsely and then with due pleasantry offers, “Well it is good to have you onboard.”

Group One:

Sinclaire inwardly smiled at Vyktoria's obvious distain for him. Surely she must think of him as the typical Breton manchild that are so often preyed upon in the streets. "She would be in for a surprise. I'm no killer, but I am certainly capable of fending for myself." He thought, smiling at the mage. "After you, miss Vyktoria. Let us see what's in store for us." As she began to walk eastward, Sinclaire motioned for his Khajiit companion to follow. "I don't know what happened to you that made you this way," he told her, in a reassuring tone. "But I invite you to come with us. I don't know myself what lies ahead, but you have a place at my side; at least until you figure out who you are and why you are here. I warn you, though, the presence of the Shadow Legionnaire ahead of us tells me that there will be danger involved. I implore you to think on that." Without waiting for an answer, he caught up to Vyktoria, walking at her side.

As they neared the meeting spot, Sinclaire noticed the green garb of the Dunmer girl he had run into earlier, at the Mage's Guild. His curiosity only grew. "She still seems just as disturbed as earlier." He observed, but when her eyes set themselves upon Vyktoria, he was almost certain she was about to do something rash by her reaction. Luckily, she must have decided better of it. "Does she know the legionnaire? She appears almost...terrified of her..." However, his thought was cut short as the burly Imperial in the center of them all greeted a few more of his kind that came up just behind him. Vyktoria also introduced herself to Caius, who gave her a nod.

"I am pleased to have you, battlemage." Cosades replied, in a tone that seemed to subtly demand respect while simultaneously expending no effort to do so. Then, the man turned to Sinclaire, who stood next to Vyktoria. "I am also pleased to see your trip was without incident, Sinclaire Lettreux." Caius said, in a polite rasp.

"He even knows of my fake surname. I am thankful for his tactfulness." The noble thought, smiling back at the man. "I am equally pleased. Although, from the look of this group we have here, I assume the path ahead will not be as accommodating to my tastes."

At that, Cosades gave a hint of a knowing smile. "You are correct, Lettreux." The man then turned to look at everybody. Counting eight people, the spymaster figured now was as good a time as any to begin briefing them on why exactly they were assembled here, an eclectic group of people from wildly differing backgrounds. "I imagine you are all wondering why you were each individually summoned here. Well, I ask that you listen to what I have to say, and listen carefully."

Caius then cleared his throat. "My name is Caius Cosades. Imperial Grand Spymaster of the Blades." he began, the deep timbre of his voice commanding respect, actively this time around.

"As some of you may know, Morrowind has been a land of rapidly increasing turmoil for some time now. The Empire has eyes and ears everywhere here in this unforgiving land. The local Dunmer Great Houses hold no great love for the Empire and her citizens; therefore, a need for some secrecy would be understandable, yes? Currently, the situation here has become dire. In certain areas on this island of Vvardenfell, cities and temples alike are being attacked. Kidnappings, murders, and rampant disease threaten to drive these people from their own homeland. Most notably, the mysterious Corprus Disease, coupled with the many differing strains of the Blight, are both spreading at a dangerous rate. If action is not taken soon, Morrowind's problems may go on to become Tamriel's problems. What is happening here is unnatural, but my spies are unable to gather too much information from these distasteful natives. They seem to believe that their problems will be solved by their own people, yet there is little to no solidarity amongst them to speak of. If the Empire does not find a solution now, it may be too late to prevent this outbreak from spreading." A brief pause followed, with a bit of coughing from the spymaster. Without waiting for a reaction, he continued.

"I was given orders to assemble a group of individuals with diverse skillsets. The reason I have gathered you all here today? To find a way to stop the spread of these diseases. Find their source; from what little we know, one or both of them may be magical in origin. There are rumors of a dangerous cult surfacing, that may be the most likely source of the ills plaguing this land. The reports I have heard of them are...disturbing. They are not to be taken lightly. However, I have decided the best way to begin is information gathering. This way we will get ourselves better prepared to face this threat. I trust that you all are up for this by your presence here. Some of you, perhaps, may not have a choice. As for your first assignment? I have a local man here in Balmora that knows more than I currently do of the people and their culture here. The first step to defeating an enemy, is understanding them. Morrowind itself is already enough of an alien land as it is. I want you all as ready as possible. Before I go on, however, do any of you have any questions or concerns? If not, I invite you all to introduce yourselves to each other. You must work together if you are to succeed." With that, Caius Cosades crossed his arms and stepped back a few paces, against the tall tree overhead.

"You may begin the questioning, as well as your introductions." He stated, cold, perceptive eyes looking among them.

Vyktoria narrowed her eyes at the Dunmer girl. Not an Ashlander, then, if I'm to believe her accent. From Cyrodiil, then? Her gaze grew icy. And something familiar about the way this girl holds herself, the way she shies away from the others. Where have I seen it before? Her attention was drawn away when several others began assembling in the clearing, and Cosades confirmed her fear that they, too, had been selected for this particular "assignment." She prayed that the agents of the Blades were simply more adept at subterfuge than she'd ever given them credit for. The alternative was that the aging spymaster had completely lost his mind and assembled a motley band of...what were these others meant to be, exactly? Mercenaries? Ruffians? Common thieves? Cosades had said outright that some of those assembled may not have a choice in the matter, which only fueled her fears of the latter option.

Mara, Dibella, if I'm to work with these...people on behalf of the Empire, then I pray that you grant me patience. Resigning herself to the fact that she'd be working alongside these others, Vyktoria turned her glare towards the spymaster, who was watching the group with dark, hardened eyes.

'Tell me, Spymaster,' she said, crossing her arms. 'Do your agents enjoy these games of yours? The mincing of words and the half-truths, all the while playing the fool to appease your ego?' She smiled darkly. 'Even a passing examination of Morrowind's literature will tell you that the Blight originates from beneath Red Mountain, supposedly the handiwork of a creature calling itself Dagoth Ur. Granted, there's enough Dunmer superstition confounding the issue as to be...inconvenient. But even myths usually contain some small kernel of truth.'

'It's one thing to be tasked with serving the Empire. To be drawn to Morrowind with little idea of what it is I'll be asked to do.' She angled her head downwards, and her blue eyes seemed to glow with some hellish inner light. 'But it's quite another for you to stand there and expect me to play the idiot. So why don't you tell us what it is we're really investigating, Cosades?'

Group 1

Larry Wall - At Caius' hideout tree.

Larry cast a glance at the battlemage, "And this is why I hate working with people who've read books." he mumbled to Alan, hoping Vyktoria would hear him. He smirked and raised his voice, "It's actually our favourite thing about Caius. Riddles within riddles and all that." He stepped forward and smiled at Caius, "Now I'm so glad to be working with someone who's willing to jump at conclusions and believe in superstitious tales rather than exploring facts, especially as you read them in a, book? Right?"

He glanced to the others, "I'm going to jump to my own conclusion and say you're new here?" He glanced at her attire and nodded to himself. He afforded another smirk as he began to enjoy himself, "Morrowind is funny in that within every myth, story and legend there is truth and deception. No one trusts anyone here and everyone hates each other equally. Don't believe what you've read in your fancy books, talking to the ashlanders here, with sources that are trusted and known is how we're going to figure out how to actually stop this fetcher and figure out what swine started it all."

He took a final chomp on the apple he had been nibbling at since the apothecary and stepped back, "I for one think we should head out tomorrow morning, or afternoon - Perhaps even evening." Should've started with evening, I need my sleep and this woman? What rank am I compared to her? A blades agent versus an imperial battlemage? Granted she'd skewer me for breakfast but do I have authority over her? The thought tickled his stomach, he'd only ever ordered other blade agents as he'd never been assigned imperial troops before.

(Group One)

Vyktoria managed a soft, lilting laughter as she turned to face the young man who had addressed her; he was thinly built, haunted by a look of borderline malnourishment and fatigue.

'You have my thanks, young man,' she said, delicately covering her mouth with her hand. 'For brightening the mood. My dear Caius, I compliment you for your wisdom: every squad in the Legion should have a jester like this one, though I scarcely recognized him out of his motley.' She reached into her coin purse and retrieved a clipping from a gold Septim, then threw it at the young man's feet. 'I should very much like to see your impression of a dancing bear next. Or perhaps one of the Mad God? You've done such marvelous work as the thick-headed oaf.'

Her bright, mocking smile softened as she took her hand away from her face. 'The volume to which I was referring was "A Short History of Morrowind," by Jeanette Sitte. You should find it very near "ABCs For Barbarians."'

Group One

Nevena had never been one to put herself forward unduly. Since the terrifying Legionnaire didn't seem like she was going to murder the spy, just insult him (harshly, but still), she saw no need to speak up.

She couldn't agree with this Larry person -- books were a worthy and often significant source of information -- but that hardly mattered, since he was clearly helping Caius Cosades with whatever their spy agenda was. But Vyktoria was also over-looking simple bias -- A Short History of Morrowind had been written by a Breton historian and visitor to Morrowind, where indeed questioning and absorbing the information of the inhabitants themselves was likely to be much more fruitful. Nevena had read nearly every book on Morrowind she had come across in her childhood, desperate to find a connection with a homeland and family she had never known, but had never felt like she had been given a great insight -- never enough to form a whole and complete picture of the place she would one day be exiled to. Indeed, it looked very different than the travel guides and histories had suggested.

Quietly, while Vyktoria and Larry squared up to each other, she stepped aside to stand beside Caius -- not too close, for she found his state of near undress unsettling. 'Pardon me, sir,' she said. 'But why us?' Before he could repeat himself, she added, 'I gather that you think us capable and skilled --' though they were under-informed, in her case, '--but why outlanders? Why not seek out loyal native dunmer operatives, who are obviously better placed?'