Dear readers,
These are the memoires of the Dunmer character Rales Sarethi I am playing with in Morrowind.
The events are as I encountered them in the game although I changed the order of events to have it make more sense and making a story out of it.
It is written as though the narrator is looking back on his life and writing it down or telling it to a crowd, that's why sometimes the form seems to be changing. It's not perfect by far so leave any comment or point out grammatical errors. This fanfic is mainly a way for me to practise writing and experiment a bit before I consider myself good enough to finish my, for a starting writer such as me, far too ambitious fanfic "The Assassin". Don't get me wrong though, I am taking this fan-fic just as serious as the other one
I hope it's not too confusing.

Memoires of Rales Sarethi.


Part I Homecoming

Chapter 1: Seyda Neen.

Day 1

Over 35 years ago, I think I was about 18, I got pulled from my bunk in the cell in Imperial City and was told I was to be deported to Vvardenfell immediately. First by carriage and then by boat.
Gods, even up to this day I resent carriage rides, they're bumpy, dusty and tiresome, I prefer a horseback ride anyday.

The seajourney is pretty much a blur in my recollection, the gentle relaxing motion of the boat made me drift into a careless and refreshing slumber.
I briefly opened my eyes at times the sea was exceptionally rough and I remember a gentle yet compelling voice speaking to me. Can't remember the words though, just the sound of the voice that stuck with me.

I woke up when a fellow Dunmer, one donning a huge scar across his face, told me we had arrived and that I needed to get off the boat. He called himself Jiub and asked what my name was. I politely answered my name was Rales. I didn't bother telling him my last name, after all, he hadn't told his either.
I never saw the guy again after I disembarked. A shame really, he was kind of like-able.

A grumpy Redguard legionnaire ordered me to report in at the Census and Excise office outside. Like I had a choice. On the boardwalk towards the offices, an Imperial officer asked me several random questions, like my race. Like he couldn't see for himself. Sjeezzz?. I had to refrain myself from rolling my eyes and possibly insulting or upsetting the guy. Instead, I acted like the good Dunmer they wanted me to be, I played along and answered his questions.

After I had satisfied his curiosity he ordered me to report in at the office for my release form. 'Release form? I was going to be released?'
I could hardly believe my pointy ears at that time. Let me tell you; looking back on what they had me go through, sometimes I wished they had left me to rot in prison. With a straight face I walked towards the rickety wooden structure that was the consensus and excise office. I couldn't be showing surprise about my release, what if they had made a mistake and changed their mind?

Quickly I proceeded into the building. An elderly Imperial was sitting behind a desk, going through piles and piles of documents. Pre-occupied as he seemed to be, he hadn't noticed me yet or maybe he was just ignoring me. Perhaps it had been my body-odour? Figuring that was hardly my fault, they were the ones that had plucked me from my cell, dropped me on a boat and had me report into an office without the chance to clean myself up. I shrugged and softly cleared my throat to get his attention, I didn't want to startle the old man lest he would die from a heart-attack. Knowing my luck, they'd probably blame me and I'd be back where I started, in jail.

The following conversation with the old git almost felt like a job-interview. Socusius Ergalla, the census and excise officer, asked me all sorts of questions; like my starsign, my skills and whatnot. I didn't have a clue what they wanted with the info but since it was hardly a secret, I just answered them while the Imperial wrote it all down on some sort of form. After the interview, Socusius told me to take my release form (that's what the form turned out to be) to Selles Gravius where I'd receive orders. I was almost speechless. Almost. 'Orders? Whatfor?' I remember exclaiming. He just shrugged. Apparantly he hadn't a clue either. Well, that made two of us so I went to Gravius, hoping he would tell me more.

Halfway to Selles Gravius I got distracted by a hallway behind a sturdy looking wooden door that led to some sort of a basemant where I found a variety of items. Some silverware, some bottles containing local booze, an iron dagger and a bag to put in the items I had "found".
Ofcourse, only then I realised I still had to see that Gravius guy. He would notice me carrying a bag, suspiciously tingling with all sorts of gear a newly released prisoner shouldn't have yet. I put the bag next to the table where I had found the dagger, checked my release form was still in my pocket and went to see Selles Gravius.

Gravius wasn't much of a talker and looked like a formidable warrior. In fact; it made me wonder what in Sheogorath's name he was doing here in this lousy office. When I asked him while handing him the form he almost bit off my head saying it was none of my busines and unpatiently snatched the release form from my hands. He glimpsed me over for a while with one eyebrow raised and ordered me to wait for a moment while he looked up some documents I was going to need. A few moments later he handed me a letter, some gold I quickly pocketed and a mysterious package for a certain Gaius Cosades in Balmora, who-ever that may be. I figured I'd find out soon enough and didn't ask any more questions.

Having been through that - what I still consider a bureaucratical ordeal - as I went to retrieve my bag, I suddenly remembered there was a rainbarrel outside I hadn't looked into. I had little gold and a dagger but no water, no food, no nothing so anything I could find would be useful and most of all; for free.
Turned out it only contained a ring with some engraving. Unfortunately I couldn't make out what it was saying so I put it in my pocket, again wandered through the offices with an air like nothing was out of the ordinary, fetched the bag and made my way into Seyda Neen.
I was my own man again. I was free to go where I wanted.

edit: apparantly there was some unclearness on Rales' gender.

The one thing I have done in Morrowind so far, good creative take on it! I saw one word spelled wrong, but I believe it was just a typo, just remove the extra 'c' in "rescent" in the first paragraph. I knew what was meant by it.

It's without the extra "c"? Changed. Thanks MalX. So glad someone commented.

Anyway, I think the next installment is in order.

***

My first steps outside were, well, quite frankly, disappointing. You'd expect a town with the main shippingdocks into Vvardenfell would be a big, prospering town. Suffice to say it wasn't.
As a matter of fact, it was just the opposite. Most of the houses were run-down, shabby shacks, trading was limited to one tradinghouse and a swamp surrounded it so flies swarmed the town.
I won't even mention the smell.

Still, I was in Morrowind, I could finally look up relatives I knew to still live here. My mother had told me plenty of stories of her and her cousin Athyn playing together. I couldn't remember which town though, but from what I've been taught, the Sarethi family is well-known and shouldn't be too hard to track down.

My sense of pride prevented me running off to find them right away, I could hardly arrive wearing nothing but the raggedy clothes, looking like a bum. I wanted to make a name for myself first. I wanted them to be proud to hail back a long-lost relative
For now, my pride would have to wait, I had more pressing matters, like finding somewhere to stay the night.

While looking around and - metaphorically speaking - sniffing up the atmosphere a Woodelf came upto me grinning child-like. The chap introduced himself as Fargoth and extended his hand which I grabbed. From moment one I knew I was going to like this friendly little fellow. Turned out he had been bullied and his Family heirloom, a ring, had been taken from him. He told me it was magical and allowed the wearer to heal himself.

'Would it have engraving, like this?' I remember asking him while pulling the ring I had found in the barrel outside the office from my pocket and held it in front of his nose. Fargoth frantically shook his head and told me that was the one.
I was happy to give it back to him. Trinkets are easier to find than good friends and the gods know I could use some friends being a stranger in a strange land.
Singing happily he wandered off but not before he told me he was going to tell his friend Arrille a kind Darkelf had returned his ring to him and how happy he was to have it back.
I simply smiled.

My rumbling stomach made me aware that I needed to find something to eat as well. After some asking around I soon found out Arrille's establishment was the only tradehouse around. If I wanted to survive any trip outside of town, I needed some sort of protection, I needed armour and a weapon and some supplies so I headed off to Arrille's.

Politely the High Elf, Arille, greeted me and was quick to realize I must be the stranger that had given Fargoth his ring back. He confirmed what I suspected, Fargoth was slightly retarded, he had the mind of a child and was almost chronically happy.

I removed the items from the bag I wanted to sell and displayed them on the counter in front of Arrille. We came to an agreement, he would gladly take all the items from my hands and I would buy the Chitin cuirass, pauldrons and gauntlets, some food, a couple of handy spells and some scrolls. Even with those purchases I had more gold in my pocket than when I had entered the tradehouse. I kept the dagger.
Then it hit me, I still didn't have a real weapon, the iron dagger I had kept was hardly any more use than as a butterknife.
In the excitement I had forgotten to buy a real weapon. I double backed into Arrille's and bought a Chitin bow, and some arrows.
Now I was set to face whatever was coming to me in the wild, or at least, that's what I thought at that time.

I nibbled on a Kwama egg on a loaf of bread and adressed some inhabitants. Some locals mentioned Ergalla Socucius was looking for a missing tax collector, Processus Vitellius.
I wasn't really feeling like heading back into the Census and Excise office, I had just left the damn thing, I decided to do some looking around myself. How hard would it be to find an Imperial tax collector?

Since it is always a good idea getting at least an idea where someone missing could hang out, I asked around for him. Of course, blabbermouth Fargoth had heard rumours the Dunmer in the watchtower, Thavere Vedrano, was the only being able to stomach him. Apparantly, the guy was somewhat obnoxious. It was a start so I headed off to the lighthouse when in the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of something shiny ? a weapon perhaps? ? in a hollow stump. It cost me a pair of wet feet and trousers getting the item from the stump but it was well worth it. The enchanted axe would get me quite some gold, I never cared for axes, they are too heavy and too encumbring, so I intended on selling it but it would have to wait until I solved this mystery.

The style of your writing lets me read it very easily. Good job. Only a couple grammatical mistakes that I saw, so that's fine too.

Keep it up

Extremely good writing on the character, his thought process! I love the job you are doing with Seyda Neen, your impression is better than perfect on it.

Thanks for the kind replies. *blushes* :foodndrink:


Where? I really would like to know because I am not aware of it. That's the only way to learn from it.

Spend a weekend refining the next installment; here it is:

Thavere was really pleasant to talk with. She had a quick understanding and told me Processus had confided in her telling the other day he had an argument with one of the locals; Foryn Gilnith. The guards had been able to interfere between the two in time or it might have ended up really ugly.
According to her they had argued about Foryn claiming Processus increased the taxes so he could skim some of it into his pockets without his superiors noticing. Obviously Processus Vitellus had denied the outrageous claims. I wisely kept my mouth shut about how I thought about such an "outrageous claim". I had lived most of my, sofar, short life between Imperials and as such knew money was usually a big drive for them. Ofcourse, there was the chance of him being different. Yeah right. And maybe minotaurs would fly.

I continued asking her if it was likely he had made other enemies or maybe he had just moved on into the next town. She smartly commented that in his line of work it was impossible to avoid making enemies so that was very likely. He wouldn't have moved on to another place, she was sure he would've mentioned it.
I politely thanked her for her time and for the drink and continued my search outside.

If it had been a local and, judging by the name, a Dunmer he almost got into a fight with, it wasn't unlikely for Processus to have run into an "accident" that would've got him killed ? Dunmer are reknowned for being short-tempered, especially if it concerns an "Outlander" - so I started looking around the area if I could come up with his body or at least some sort of trace of where he had vanished to.

As I was wandering around in the area of Seyda Neen, I picked countless samples of the local flora. Never thinking about the consequences I dropped all the ingredients in the bag I was hauling around. When I was a child I've always found it very exciting seeing my mother brew mysteriously and curiously smelling concoctions so naturally I had to dabble with alchemy as well. Not that I had any experience with that before but I'll get back on that later.

The gathering of plants almost made me lose track of what I initially set out to do ? find the missing tax officer. After trotting around for hours through swamps I still hadn't managed to turn up any trace of him and was starting to doubt I ever would when I heard a scream that nearly turned my blood to icicles. Certainly, this meant some menacing predator had sniffed me out and would make dinner out of me. I drew my bow, prepared an arrow ? I was going to protect my precious hide with whatever means - and frantically started looking around for cover or for whatever had made the sound, when suddenly the scream ended with a resounding thud several passes behind me.

A Bosmer had fallen from the sky, trying to revive him proved pointless ? blood was dripping from his nostrils and ears ? I understood the poor bugger had died on impact.
Using the axe as a shovel I dug him a grave, took some of his gear, he wouldn't be needing it anymore anyway, and rather unceremonally ? what did you expect? I didn't even know the guy ? dropped him in the hole and closed it. At least predators and other vile creatures wouldn't get to him.

It seemed miracles come in pairs. Not only acquired I a really nice robe, the bloodstains would wash away soon enough, a useful enchanted sword and some convenient and some not so convenient scrolls ? thanks to the fallen Bosmer Tarhiel. I learned from the journal I found on him that was his name, as well as that he had been experimenting with what he called scrolls of Icarian Flight ? I also found the body of the missing tax officer nearby.
He hadn't been dead that long yet, the body wasn't really stiff yet and most of his fingers were still attached. Some had been gnawed off by, well I didn't really know and I didn't really wanted to stay to find out either.

What I did find out was that he had most definitely been killed. He had been stabbed in the back several times and, I assume to make sure he was really dead, his throat was slid as well. The body had been dragged to this spot, the distinct lack of blood was evidence he hadn't died where he laid. The trail led towards Seyda Neen, it would appear a local had indeed murdered Vitellus.

Searching the body led nowhere. No evidence, nothing. I followed the only thing I could do; the trail and find out where it ended. Dissapointingly, the trail ended not far from where I had found the victim's body. I had no other choice, I was going to have to talk to every single inhabitant and find out what they know.

Arille's trading house was not just a place to buy and sell, for some gold he also rented out rooms. I had dinner at Arille's and rented a room for the night.
As it was still quite early I spend the remainder of the evening exploring some more of the area around Seyda Neen. I remember being horrified when a rock I momentarily sat on to catch my breath grew a pair of vicious pincers, legs and a head.
The bastard pinched my left thigh, I cut off its legs and pincers. Fair deal I'd say.

The meat I scraqed out of its shell - the dagger came in handy, I was glad I had kept it - was brown and felt slimey to the touch.
Still, if I was to survive in the wild I figured I'd best stop being too picky and decided to taste it. I'm glad I did, it tasted wonderful! It would be no problem for me to live on crabmeat for several days. I was in the area anyway so I practised my bow- and sword skills on any crab I encountered with extreme prejudice and stocked up on crabmeat.


A/N: Changed a small bit as I got inspired by Shades to change something.

I didn't know about the guy falling from the sky!

A short day for my character

Day 2

The next morning I had breakfast and set out to do what I had started the previous day; find the tax collector's murderer. I had a lead but thought it wise to investigate some more before blaming anyone. I wanted to make sure I was going to confront the correct person.
Everyone said the same thing; all the locals pointed towards Foryn Gilnith. Some had even witnessed the quarrel between Foryn and Processus. There was no one else I could ask, I had asked every single inhabitant, except one. Foryn himself.
I gathered all my courage and headed to Foryn's shack and knocked. I didn't get an answer so he was either asleep or out.

Foryn didn't have many friends, when I inquired on his likely where-abouts no-one knew.
There was the option of breaking into his shack and look for evidence. I was sure the local guards wouldn't approve. Unless, they didn't know or see. I needed to slip into the shack while the guards weren't looking and I was certain the owner wasn't home.
Then, I had an idea. I needed a distraction.

'How would you like to earn some gold?' I asked Fargoth. He scratched his head and said he would be glad to help a friend.
'What do you want me to do?'
'I need you to raise hell just after dark.' His face told me he hadn't a clue what I meant with that. Suppressing a sigh I explained it as I would to a child.
'Look, just start shouting and make the guards come your way. I don't know, maybe act as like you were just robbed.'
A sparkle of understanding appeared in his mischievous eyes and a smug grin curled his lips.
'Don't worry, even the guards in Vivec will hear me,' he assured me.
'That will do just fine.'

That night, Seyda Neen was in an uproar. True to his word, Fargoth started his act just after dark. The guards were quick to respond and all converged to the panic point, giving me the opportune moment to slip into Foryn's shack. And if he turned out to be home, I would act drunk and had accidently stumbled into the wrong house.
It was a bit thin; if Foryn knew I didn't even have a house, he would see through it right away. I just hoped luck was on my side and that he hadn't returned yet and entered the shack.

Lady luck was on my side, Foryn wasn't at home. Quickly, not wasting any time, I rummaged through his cupboard, the crates, through anything that could hide evidence.
All I found in a corner underneath some clothes was a dagger with traces of blood on it and a bloody rag.
'Why go through the problem of wiping the blade clean and then leave the rag next to the blade?' I surmised. 'Doesn't make sense.' It almost looked like he was being framed. And then there was the possibility Foryn was just really sloppy, dumb or both.

Truth is; I just didn't know what to think anymore. On one hand, he was the likely suspect. There had been witnesses to Foryn and Processus nearly getting in a fist-fight. On the other hand; there was the conveniently placed evidence in his shack. Too conveniently.

I made sure everything was like I found it, except the evidence, I took that with me.
Then, Foryn entered. He wasn't happy to see me in his shack and told me to get out.
I did as I planned, I acted drunk and mumbled the lousy excuse I had thought of before but then realized the predicament I had gotten myself in.
'What if it was his dagger?' If it was, he would soon miss it and know right away it had been me who had taken it. All in all, I felt I had made a mess out of it the whole situation.

I left the shack and thought what I should do next. Should I confront Foryn with the evidence, risking accusing an innocent man?
I decided to come clean with Foryn, I went back into his shack and explained the situation.

He didn't even deny the accusations. Instead; he bragged about how he had stabbed that thieving Imperial bastard. When I asked him what he meant with that he said the same Thavere had told me; he believed Processus had raised the taxes so he could take some for himself. I shook my head and said that wasn't a reason to kill him.
'So you're on their side? Then you're my enemy,' he roared. Before I could even defend myself, he attacked me. With his bare fists. I tried to convince him to give himself up, there was no need to get killed over it, he just got angrier and angrier. I had no choice but to defend myself and cut him down. It was either him or me. What was he thinking? Attacking someone armoured and armed with a sword? I guess my previous assessment was right; Foryn was stupid as well as sloppy.

Anyway; after the short, really, really short, "fight" I found plenty evidence on his body.
I found a ring Thavere had described as being Processus', a taxrecord and 200 Drakes. Combined with the dagger and the bloody rag, there could be no doubt; Foryn had killed Processus and had made it look like he was plainly robbed.

Ergalla wasn't happy with the news but was relieved the mystery had been solved and rewarded me with 500 drakes. I was dumbstruck. 500 drakes, that was more gold I had ever seen in one place and now, I was carrying it. I felt really good about myself and decided to spend some. I headed to Arrille's, had a king's meal, bought some more supplies and a mortar and pestle he had for sale. Finally I could do something with the samples I had gathered the previous day. The problem was, I hadn't a clue where to start. I needed a place where I could practise undisturbed. Then it hit me; I could use Foryn's shack. At least for a while.

I cleared out all of Foryn's stuff and dug another grave. It all reminded on his foolish actions and me, having to end his life. It didn't really help to wipe the guilty feeling but at least I had some space to store my own goods I had acquired. For a while, I just laid in the hammock contemplating what I should do next but mostly doing nothing at all.
Few hours later I got off my lazy butt and tried out my newest acquisition, the mortar and pestle.
I dug up all the samples, which were all clogged together, seperated the most identifiable from the mess and started grinding them to a pulp. Did I say identifiable? What I meant was: the ingredients that weren't completely un-identifiable. Not that I had idea what those were but that hardly spoiled the fun.
After some mashing and grinding I did what I saw my mother do all those years ago, I added water to the brown, goowy substance, poured it into an empty bottle and drank it.

The moment the awful tasting, lumpy liquid passed my throat, I knew it had been a huge mistake. Besides tasting awful it affected me beyond anything I ever thought possible. I felt weak in my knees, felt hot and cold at the same time and wanted to retch up what I had in my stomach. I stumbled outside, emptied my stomach in the swamp, managed to haul my sorry [censored] back inside and curled up for days only reaching out to have a drink of water. That was the only thing I managed to keep inside.

The good thing about the debacle was that I had some time to think about how stupid I had been. Apparantly, there was more to alchemy than just throwing some random ingredient together and mashing it to a pulp. If I didn't want to kill myself with whatever next poison I'd contrive, I was going to need help.

A/N: Edited, wasn't happy how he went about solving the murder. Thanks to Shades I was inspired to flesh it out.

This is amazing!!! I hope you do go on with this my dear!!!

I can't say it any better than this - More, more!

Hey! I like the writing. The direction though is a little offset.

This story told by Rales Sarethi is just distant enough that lacks drama and tension. It's more like a checklist where the character tells their schedule that day without going too deep. I think if you either dive deeper into the quests or pull away from them you could increase the relatability. If you dive deeper, you could do a chapter or two about finding the murderer in town, and change up some of the details from what other people might have done in game. Maybe Foryn Gilnith did that the money to make it seem like a bandit had hit the Taxman, and your character has to dig deeper into the evidence. If you pulled back from the quests, you could skim over the kinds of things it takes to start your character on the path and get right to the stuff none of us have done in Morrowind.

If the murderer has the bloody dagger in his room, perhaps find a way to get him out of there so Rales can search the place. Confront him when he comes back or catches Rales in the act. Make Rales play up her part in it to keep her out of jail time for breaking and entering. Something like this where you really individualize the character.

There's a couple off words still, and I'll just point out a couple.
In stead should be instead.
Throat was slid should be slit.

Or, drive heavily into the individual stories. Make this a non-chronological memoir that leads to the pinnacle of her career. You stack a few of the quests that define who she is at the beginning, have a few quests that show her day to day problems and trials, and intersperse the story with short pieces of the major narrative. Whatever that turns out to be. Kind of like Big Fish if you've seen that one.

This is all very good advice...in fact, took some of the thoughts out of my head XD

other than that the story is wonderful!!!

I see what you mean. It's a he by the way
I'll deffo look into the tips you've given me. The thing is, I tend to lose myself in details (made the same mistake with my other fan-fic) so I thought to avoid that by keeping it somewhat shallow.
I haven't seen Big Fish but I'll see if I can dig it up somewhere.
Meanwhile I'll go see if I can improve it by using what you've given me.

Maybe that's saying something if I can't figure out the gender of the character. I thought Rales was a girl's name. Who knew?

Yeah, I guess.
Haven't figured out a way to incorporate that nicely into the story yet though.

@mALX1: Milady, your wish is my command:

Day 4

2 days later, I emerged the shack a wiser and very pale-looking Dunmer. The poison I had willingly drank had left me drained and weakened. Fargoth commented I didn't look too well.
I snapped at him that I bloody well knew and that he should leave me alone. In hindsight I really felt bad biting the poor fellow's head off and promised myself I'd make it up with him when I felt like myself again.
Arrille was worried too. I explained him what happened. He had the courtesy not to laugh at me although his lips were twitching. I could tell he was holding it back and would probably break out in laughter as soon as I'd leave. I couldn't care less, I was starving yet still feeling quite miserable. I bought some light food and a large pitcher with crystal-clear water and went upstairs to have a quiet breakfast.

A chance to make it up with Fargoth came faster than I thought. A huge Nord who introduced himself as Hrisskar wanted me to persuade Fargoth into revealing his secret hiding spot. He promised me I could keep a third of whatever turned up.
I told him I'd consider it. Between you and me; that was a blatant lie, the dumb Nord fell for it however.
I never told Fargoth about the scheme, in my opinion the simpleton didn't need to know people were out to steal his gold.
Someone once told me: what one doesn't know doesn't hurt one. That was certainly the case here.

The next few days I ventured out farther than before, further exploring the bittercoast region and decided to have a look at the cave slighty north of town. The locals had told me it was a smuggler's cave and someone should put at an end to the illegal practises there. After having been the bane (ahum) of all the mudcrabs in the area I figured I had enough practice to face more serious competition. Feeling exceptionally brave that day I entered the cave, Addamasartus.
I should've brought a torch?

'Die N'wah!' That was hardly a friendly greeting if I ever heard one. I readied my sword and prepared for the worst.
A single Dunmer woman attacked me. She didn't close in, the cowardly wench was shooting arrows at me. Before I knew what going on an arrow lodged itself into my upperleg, right through my armour.
I broke off the arrow's shaft, causing me to howl in pain, and moved in as quick as I could with my sore leg.
I think my opponent hadn't counted on that I was going to be so determined because as soon as I closed the gap she hardly defended herself and I struck her down with relative ease. Luckily she had a potion on her, conveniently labeled as a healing potion, as well as a some lock-picks, probes and some arrows.
I wasn't sure what else I would encounter so I kept the potion for later.

The cave contained two more smugglers, I managed to sneak up on the first and ended his smuggling career with a single arrow in his throat. Ofcourse, that spoiled the surprise for his comrade. Soon, spells were singing by at an alarming rate, barely missing me.
I returned the favour by shooting some arrows in his general direction. I was in luck, I could hear him yelping when one of my arrows struck goal and for a few brief moments the spells ceased allowing me to close the gap on him and finish him off. I only had to take only one shockblast to the chest. It took me a while to shrug of the spasm-inducing spell but the loot I found in the cave had been worth the spasms and the arrow to the leg.

A shockspell to the chest wasn't the biggest shock I had to face that day.
Underneath a boardwalk I found the door the key I found on the spellcaster's body fitted to. What I saw there almost made me gag. 3 very skinny Khajiiti resided in a far too small pen were, obviously, forced to live in their own filth. The moment I limped into the slave-pen all of them shied away and held their arms above their head to shield themselves. I could see why. All had fresh crusts of blood in their dirty fur, indicating they had been severely mistreated. It almost brought a tear to my eyes.
I had known slavery still existed in Morrowind but this was inhumane.
Unlocking the slavebracers from the, now most grateful and not so scared anymore, cats I solemnly vowed to free any slave I'd encounter. I didn't care one bit slavery wasn't illegal, this had to stop.

On the way back to Seyda Neen, I downed the healing potion. I couldn't stand the burning pain the arrow-head, still lodged in my leg, caused anymore. The greenish concoction was bitter to the taste but it tasted a lot better than the vile liquid I had brewed. Better yet; the pain dissipated and miraculously the arrow-head, with a short piece of shaft still attached, popped out. A small scar was the only indication of the arrow that had been there. I sighed in relieve.

Arrille was far from amused when I dropped the goods I had taken from the crates in the smuggler's cave on his counter. He said he wasn't buying the moon-sugar from me and that I needed to get rid of the substance before he'd do business with me. Ah, so that's what the strange satchels were. I had heard of moon-sugar but had no idea what it looked like. I shrugged, put all the goods back in my bag, wished Arrille a good night with a smile and returned to the shack. I was tired anyway, selling the goods could wait to the next day.
I stuffed a Kwama egg and some bread in large chucks in my mouth, flushed it away with some water and went to bed early.

Day 5

The sun hadn't even come up when I awoke. Surprisingly enough, Arrille was awake as well. I sold him all my redundant goods, had a hearty breakfast and headed out into the wild. I didn't plan on returning for days.
I was traveling light, I had brought my sword, the bow and arrow, some food, a sleeping bag and some dry clothes.

The following days I spend exploring most of the bittercoast region. Halfway the first day I noticed a beautifully crafted stone arch over a sturdy wooden door into a mountain.
A sign told me it was the Samarys ancestral tomb. There's a first time for everything and this was the first ancestral tomb I had ever seen. Or been into for that matter. Praying to the ancestors to forgive me for what I was about to do, I opened the door and entered the tomb.

To be honest, the place gave me the creeps. More than once I considered turning around and head back home but every time I crushed those instincts asking myself where my sense of adventure had gone. Surely, I wasn't a coward?

My sense of adventure got me into trouble as soon as I opened the door that had been trapped. Again, I was punished for my lack of attention. I noticed the trap too late and ended up with another scar.

As I proceeded farther into the tomb, something straight from a nightmare screeched and attacked. A collection of bare, white bones wrapped in a rag floated towards me with obvious malicious intent. The first spell hit me when I was still frozen in fear. Ever sat too close to a campfire? Well, this spell felt like I was sitting in a campfire. My entire skin burned. The good thing about it was that it brought me back to my senses and started hacking at the bones with my sword.
A few well-placed slashes and the bones scattered throughout the entire room. Actually quite amusing, if only the damn thing hadn't hurt me so much.

The whole tomb was infested with bony things. I was a bit more careful throughout the rest of the tomb. The first bony - that's what I was calling them - had taught me an expensive lesson. First; carefully look out for enemies and only then barge into a room. It saved my hide several times with taking out the other bonies in the tomb.
I had something to show for when I emerged the tomb, dusty, tired and bleeding from more than one gash, though

In a chest next to what appeared to be an ash-pit, the remainder of what I presumed were the ashes of the departed Samarys ancestors, I had found a really expensive looking ring.
It felt a bit like theft taking it but, then again, they shouldn't have left such a nice trinket for anyone to take. Or perhaps that was the reason why the bonies were there, as guard? Nah.....
Shaking the guilt, I slid the ring around my right index-finger and marvelled on how good it looked.

Besides looking good, the ring was enchanted with a powerful spell as well. As soon as I put the ring around my finger, I could feel a positive tingle throughout my entire body.
I wasn't sure but I felt more determined and more focused, like everything would be easier to achieve and comprehend.

The rest of the days of my exploration trip were hardly noteworthy. I went through some more caves, where I encountered bandits, smugglers, slaves and slavers, bonies and other undead things, bagging me some potions, weaponry, scrolls, food and had gained extensive experience using my weapons.
Having exhausted my arrows, most of my useful food, not having any more dry clothes and a soaking sleeping bag from the rain the last night outside, I headed back to Seyda Neen, back home.

The story so far is getting pretty good. Although I will say that there is some grammer problems, and also a run on with sentences/words, but other than that it's doing good!!! Keep it up!!!

Your description of the arrow stuck in, and drinking the healing potions was done so realistically - what a unique take and spin you put on the storyline with your details! I'm going on to the next chapter now. (and thanks for listening to my "more more" !!)


As soon as I am done with the Oblivion game I am writing about, I am going to go back and tackle Morrowind again, using your story as a guide! Your descriptions are so detailed it feels like being there as a witness!

Thank you Kiki and mALX1, that means a lot to me. B)
If you see any spelling/grammar errors, or sentences that seem weird, please point them out.

The last update before the weekend, it is short but some of the Morrowind veterans may see the set-up for someone else I encountered later in the game. The whole thing with the trader having sold the fawlty ring reminded of another fawlty garment and thought I'd use it in the story's advantage.

***

Chapter 2: Blades

Day 9

I woke up, feeling well-rested in the safe confines of Foryn's shack. It had felt exceptionally good sleeping in something more resembling a bed rather than the cold hard ground I had slept on the previous days.
When I put foot outside, it was raining, turning the soil in Seyda Neen to greasy mud, another downside of being situated amongst swamps I presumed. I ploughed through the mud to Arrille's with the intent of selling the goods I had found on my trip the last few days. I'm sure there never had been anyone in this run-down town having more gold in his pocket than I did that day after selling it all.

Grinning contendedly I encountered a sad looking Imperial, called Vodunius Nuccius. I had seen him a few days ago, thinking nothing of it but he was still looking miserable. Something had to be wrong.
When I asked him he said he was sick and tired of this lousy town. He had had enough of this wretched province and wanted to go home but he couldn't because he had squandered his money on a ring sold to him but now he was stuck with what he called a cursed ring.

His plan had been to earn some gold on what he thought to be a profitable deal but it turned out he had been scammed. Yes, the ring would enhance your stamina but the Redguard trader hadn't mentioned it would also drain your life. No-one wanted to buy the ring so now he couldn't afford the trip back to Cyrodiil anymore. He couldn't remember the trader's name unfortunately.

I felt bad for the poor Imperial. So I offered to buy the ring from him, I had plenty of gold and was sure I had a use for the ring. If only to dump it in the nearest swamp, which I, obviously, didn't do but I did consider it. If only for a short while.
His face beamed when he finally got rid of the cursed ring, I handed him his gold and wished him a good trip back home.
'Thank you, friend! I will never forget it,' he shouted over his shoulder while running towards the docks. That was the last I ever saw of him. I hope he got home safe.
I rested throughout that day and prepared my trip for the following day.

RemkoNL, forgive me for just now catching up to you. I read this thread from beginning to current. You have a delightfully conversational tone and humorous perspective. I do not play MW so I am, of course, unfamiliar with the quests. That's fine because the story is still interesting and well-written. :foodndrink:


Very well. Since I was reading the whole story, I took some notes that I will share below. For the length of the thread, these tiny errors are pretty insignificant and in no way distract. Nevertheless, here you go:

Post #3
-"The chap introduced himself as Fargoth and extended his hand which I grapped."
Do you mean grabbed?
-"Ofcourse, blabbermouth Fargoth had heard rumours the Dunmer in the watchtower"
Of course (space between).

Post#9
-"I did as I planned, I acted drunk and mumbled the lousy excuse I had thought of before buut the realized the predicament I had gotten myself in."
You mean 'but then'.
-"In stead; he bragged about how he had stabbed that thieving Imperial bastard."
'Instead' (no space).

Post #16
-I was in luck, I could hear him yelping when one of my arrows struck goal and for a few brief moments the spells seized allowing me to close the gap on him and finish him off. I only had to take only one shockblast to the chest. It took me a while to shrug of the spasm-inducing spell but the loot I found in the cave had been worth the spasms and the arrow to the leg.
I believe you want 'ceased', not 'seized' // 'shrug off', not 'shrug of'
-Unlocking the slavebracers from the, now most grateful and not so scared anymore, cats I solemny vowed to free any slave I'd encounter.
'solemnly'.

Post #17
-The following days I spend exploring most of the bittercoast region.
From context, I think you want 'spent'.
-To be honoust, the place gave me the creeps.
'honest'
-Shaking the guilt, I slit the ring around my right index-finger and marvelled on how good it looked.
'slid'
-The rest of the days of my explorationtrip were hardly noteworthy.
'exploration trip' (two words)
-Having exhausted my arrows, most of my useful food, not having any more dry clothes and a soaking sleepingbag from the rain the last night outside, I headed back to Seyda Neen, back home.
'sleeping bag' (two words)

As you can see, given the volume of work, a very small collection of typos. Excellent if english is your primary language. Astounding if dutch is your primary language.

Having caught up, I shall endeavor to stay with your fine story. After all, I would certainly not want to miss another line like this:
"I remember being horrified when a rock I momentarily sat on to catch my breath grew a pair of vicious pincers, legs and a head." :lmao:

:tops:

Thank you Acadian! Delightfully conversational and a humorous perspective was exactly what I wanted to portray. :twirl:
Coming from you, that means a lot to me.

RemkoNL - that chapter was too short, lol - but is one of my faves! I love how you manage to sneak unique detail into each chapter! Anothe great addition, More More More!!

Day 10

I got up early, I had packed my belongings I thought I was going to need before I had gone to bed, grabbed a quick bite and headed off to the stiltstrider-port north of town.
The rain of the previous day had dispersed, a watery sun was coming up. The surrounding swamps were shrouded in a dense, low-hanging, eery mist. Dew was trapped on the spiders' webs between the trees, making it look like a ghostly veil. I remember just standing there for a while, in awe of the beautiful scenery.

The stiltstrider driver greeted me with a warm smile, she had been a friend of Vodunius and had heard of how I had helped him.
'Where would you like to go?' she asked. 'I'll make you a special price.'
'To Balmora please.' I replied with a smile.

The trip was calm, I found riding a stiltstrider really relaxing although somewhat icky, considering you were seated in the hollowed-out body of a huge bug.
I didn't even start to fathom how the driver got the bug to go where she wanted.
All I could tell, she was pulling some sort of strings. I found out much later those strings were in fact the animal's nerves.

The town of Balmora was gorgeous. In my eyes, it could measure up to the Imperial City. It even had a tower. Taking it all in, the first few hours I spend wandering through town gawking at everything, like a tourist. To be honest, I got lost but that doesn't really matter if you have no particular place to go.
What was strange was that everywhere I looked crates, urns and baskets were standing outside. Even stranger was that nobody minded them and I could take from them whatever I wanted.

The first crate I opened, I did cautiously. There was a guard, entirely covered in an armour made from a material I had never seen before. To me, it looked like an insect's exoskeleton and made the guard look very formidable. Not someone I'd fancy getting into a fight with.
I opened the lid, the guard said nothing. Slowly I put my hand in the crate, still the guard didn't react.

It would appear the crates were no-one's because when I took all the goods from the crate, nobody objected. Not even the guard, 2 steps away from me.
I shrugged and emptied all the containers I could find from useful goods.
By the time I was finished, it was getting dark and my bag was bulging with everything I had gathered. Even some gold coins. Now, who in his right mind would leave gold for the proverbial dogs?
Wandering around some more I eventually returned to where I had entered Balmora, the trader's district nearby the stiltstrider.

I sold most goods I had found in the crates to Ra'Virr, a friendly Khajiit trader.
He tried to sell me a Daedric weapon but when I pointed out they weren't Daedric but plain weapons carrying an enchantment, he quickly acknowledged I was right.
Still, I could see they would be very useful. I didn't know much, but I knew swords.
Unfortunately, they were far beyond anything I could afford so I stuck with the blade I had found on Tarhiel's body and continued my search for a place to sleep.

There was the option of taking the stiltstrider back to Seyda Neen but that meant I would arrive deep in the night. I aimed to spend the night here, in Balmora.
A local Nord woman pointed me towards a place to stay the night, called the Eight Plates.
She told me not to expect too much but according to her the food was allright and the beds soft and as a bonus, not really expensive either.
Just what I was looking for.

I love when you were describing reaching into the crates with the guard nearby - that was so perfect!