Chapter 1: Arrival

The argonian woke from his dreams. It was a dream of the future and past, a dream of prophecies. A woman in blue had spoken to him. Her words did not make any sense to Niim-Arrhe. However the words “Wake up” spoke directly to him. Niim-Arrhe laid on the floor, in the back of a storage compartment on a boat. In front of him stood a dunmer, he looked at Niim-Arrhe with worry in his eyes.

- Why are you shaking? Are you ok?, he asked

Niim-Arrhe stood up. Stretched his arms and legs.

- I am fine, bad dream. I think., Nimar answered
- Well, not even last night's storm could wake you. I heard them say we've reached Morrowind. I'm sure they'll let us go.
- They sent me to Morrowind? Harsh punishment.
- You still never told me what you did.
- Same to you, warm blood.
- Quiet, here comes the guard.

At the end of the hall an imperial guard was approaching. He had a most serious look on his face approaching the two. He first looked at the dunmer and then at Niim-Arrhe.

- This is where you get off, come with me!
- Farewell Jiub.

Jiub nodded at Niim-Arrhe and sat himself down on a barrel. The guard started to walk towards the deck and Niim-Arrhe followed. He looked around in disbelief while walking, he had been blindfolded as the imperials brought him onto the ship. This did not look like a ship that carries prisoners, there were no arms, no shackles on the walls, nothing but food and pillows Niim-Arrhe thought. Right underneath the deck the guard stopped and turned around.

- Get yourself up on deck, and let's keep this as civil as possible.

Niim-Arrhe did not respond, he just walked up to the deck and greeted the sunlight. Surrounding him were the marshes of the Bitter Coast. In a distance to the right a city was visible, Hist whispered “Vivec”, to his left a docking-bridge were a guard was waiting. The guard was smiling as Niim-Arrhe approached.

- You finally arrived, but our records don't show from where., the guard said.
- You brought me here from Cyrodiil., Niim-Arrhe answered
- Yes but where were you born, where are you from?
- Argonia.
- Great. I'm sure you'll fit right in. Follow me up to the office and they'll finish your release.
- Fit in?
- Just follow me down the docks and enter the census-offices.

The guard walked Niim-Arrhe down the dock and opened the door to a building.

- Head on in., The guard said

Niim-Arrhe entered the building. It was a nice-looking room. Walls decorated with wall curtains of star-signs. There were books on shelves, an open fire and fine pottery in a bookcase. In front of Niim-Arrhe was a table, and by the table stood a man, breton by the looks of him. On the table laid a parchment and a quill and inkwell. The breton shook Niim-Arrhe hand when he stood in front of him.

- Ahh yes, we've been expecting you. You'll have to be recorded before you're officially released. I'll just fill out these forms as you answer my questions. Er, name?, the breton asked
- Niim-Arrhe.
- Nimar. Occupation?
- My last quest, drawing maps.
- And that would require the skill-set of an...?
- Archer.
- Oh, wonderful! The letter that preceded you mentioned you were born under a certain sign. And what would that be?
- The serpent.
- Interesting. Now before I stamp these papers, make sure this information is correct.

Niim-Arrhe looked at the parchment the breton had written. Other than misspelling his name this was all correct.
---
Name: Nimar
Race: Argonian
Occupation: Cartographer, Archer
Birth-sign: The Serpent
Province of birth: Black-Marsh---
Nimar looked at the breton and nodded.

- Show your papers to the Captain when you exit to get your release fee.

Nimar took the papers and left for the door, a guard opened it for him and told him Sellus Gravius
was the one to give the papers to. In the next room there was some food for Nimar to enjoy. Finally some fresh kwama-eggs. He ate and rested in the cellar. After an hour or two a guard came in and interrupted Nimar's sleep.

- Hey, wake up argonian! The captain is wondering why you haven't left yet., the guard said
- I was hungry, and when I'm full I sleep.
- Well go to the captain now. He is about to go home for his sleep.
- Sure.

Nimar walked upstairs and out of the building. The crickets screeched, Masser and Secunda stood high in the night-sky. There was a barrel next to the door of the second building, on it under a lantern laid a ring. A nice-looking ring, not to expensive but still nice-looking. Not being a thief Nimar left it there. He went inside and was greeted by Sellus Gravius. The imperial appeared stressed.

- First, let me take your identification papers. Thank you. Word of your arrival only reached me yesterday. I am Sellus Gravius. I'm here to welcome you to Morrowind.
- Why am I here, why release me here?
- I don't know why you're here. Or why you were released from prison and shipped here. But your authorization comes directly from Emperor Uriel Septim VII himself. And I don't need to know any more than that. When you leave this office, you are a free man. But before you go, I have instructions on your duties. Instructions from the Emperor. So pay careful attention.
- Very well.
- According to my instructions, the Emperor authorized your release from prison and your delivery here. It's all very mysterious. But that's the way the Empire works. Silence. Secrecy. Let not the left hand know what the right hand is doing.
- Where on Morrowind is this?
- This is Vvardenfell District of the province of Morrowind. And Morrowind has been part of the Empire for over 400 years. The current emperor is Uriel Septim, 24th of the Septim line. You haven't been in prison that long, have you? Nothing wrong with your head, is there? The men said you were acting a little strange when you they brought you in from the ship.
- I am fine.
- I shall keep this short then. This package came with the news of your arrival. You are to take it to Caius Cosades, in the town of Balmora. Go to the South Wall Corner-club, and ask for Caius Cosades -- they'll know where to find him. Serve him as you would serve the Emperor himself. I also have a letter for you, and a disbursal to your name.

Sellus gave Nimar 87pieces of Septims in a small pouch to Nimar, also he gave Nimar two pieces of paper, one sealed package and one letter labelled “directions to Caius Cosades”. Nimar sat down on the chair placed in front of him. He read through “directions to Caius Cosades”

Niim-Arrhe of Black-Marsh

You have been given these directions and a package of documents. Do not show them to anyone. Do not attempt to read the documents in the package. The package has been sealed, and your tampering will be discovered and punished.

Follow these directions.

Proceed to the town of Balmora in Vvardenfell District. Report to a man named Caius Cosades. He will be your superior and patron; you will follow his orders. His residence is not known, but ask at the corner-club called "South Wall". People there will know where to find Caius Cosades. When you report to Caius Cosades, deliver the package of documents to him, and wait for further orders.

Remember. You owe your life and freedom to the Emperor. Serve him well, and you will be rewarded. Betray him, and you will suffer the fate of all traitors.


I have the Honour to prepare this at the direction of his Most Sovereign Majesty the Emperor Uriel Septim,

Glabrio Bellienus
Personal Secretary to the Emperor

- Where is Balmora?, Nimar asked
- Balmora is north of Seyda Neen. The road passes Pelagiad village and Fort Pelagiad, crosses a deep ravine, passes Fort Moonmoth, then turns west across the Odai River and into Balmora. The South Wall corner-club is in south-east Balmora, on the east side of the river. For more detailed directions, talk to Elone the Scout at Arrille's Trade-house here in Seyda Neen. But take my advice. You're new here. Take the silt strider to Balmora. Fast, cheap, safe. Cross the bridge and head east. Can't miss it.
- Do I need to hurry there?
- You can stay in Seyda Neen for a few days if you want to. You have not been assigned living quarters, however you may sleep in the basemant over at the Census-office. Any further questions?
- Do I get a satchel? Or a pouch?
- You can purchase this at Arrille's, ask someone in town for directions. Anything else?
- You want me to leave don't you?

An argonian's face does not leave hints of emotions. If they even have emotions. This argonian was very forward and blunt, Sellus did not like this. If the argonian is blunt I will be blunt.

- Yes, it has been a long day. Waiting and preparing for your arrival, and I would also like to rest so if you don't mind.
- I will leave.
- Thank you.

Sellus walked up to the front door and opened it waiting for Nimar to leave. Nimar rose from his chair, took his gold and letters and walked out. Sellus went for the door to the stone building in front of them, unlocked and went inside. Nimar looked around, free apparently, and saw the small town that was Seyda Neen. Small houses made of stone with hay-rooftops stood in the centre of the village. In the western part there were small shacks that gave the area a gloomy look. Down south-west stood a lighthouse, gazing out over the water. In the middle of town a bosmer paced back and forth mumbling and grumbling. Nimar wished not to speak with some agitated wood-elf and went for the imperial in blue clothing sitting outside his house. However when he passed the bosmer it grabbed him by the arm.

- Hey! Hey! Have you seen my Ring?, the bosmer asked
- Your ring?, Nimar said somewhat annoyed
- Yes my ring. I saw you arrive by boat, being led by the guards. And I know they are the ones that took it from me! Always they pick on me. I bet you that they decide “Hey, let's go on a Fargoth shakedown” when bored. Have you seen it?
- On the other side of that wall there is one barrel. On it a ring. Perhaps this is your ring., said Nimar and pointed towards the wall between the census-office and Sellus' office.
- Oh, thank you. Thank you. Could you get it for me?
- Why would I do this? Doors unlocked.
- I guess. Fine, I will go. Thank you again. You know what! Next time I see Arrille, I will tell him you are a great friend. See that building there, with the sign. That's his trade-house!
- I see, thank you bosmer. Fargoth?
- That's me, smiled Fargoth, bye now!

Fargoth crouched, looked around in suspicion and started sneaking towards the door to Sellus' office. Nimar noticed that he walked silently, he was however holding a lit torch giving his position away. Poor warm-blood, thought Nimar, pitying the bosmer. He went for the trade-house. Off in the distance Nimar saw a pack of mudcrabs moving towards the water. Strange, I didn't know mudcrabs moved in groups.

Arrille was an successful altmer stationed in Seyda Neen, well respected and liked among locals. He sold and bought most basic items and potions, he could even teach some basic spells. This evening he'd left his stand downstairs to fraternize with the locals taking a drink upstairs. There was of course Elone writing her guides behind the bench, her usual spot. Around the table closest to the stair sat Albecius Colollius, Hrisskar Flat-Foot and Arrille deep in conversation. To the right of Elone stood the bard Tandram Andalen, he played the lute peacefully.

- You know some fool lost the Mentor's Ring in a tomb somewhere along the Bitter Coast?, Albecius asked the people around the table
- The Mentor's Ring?, Arrille wondered
- (clearing his throat) The Mentor's Ring is a prized possession for any apprentice to magic. It lends the wearer the ability to increase their intelligence and wisdom, thus making their use of magic more efficient. The High Wizard Carni Asron is said to be the creator of the Ring. It was a construct for his young apprentices while studying under his guidance.
- And that was from the top of yer head?, Hrisskar asked with surprise
- I like the story behind this ring, therefore I memorised it!, Albecius pointed out
- Are you going for the ring then?, Hrisskar asked
- You know. I just might.
- Another Mazte Hrisskar?, Arrille asked
- Sure!
- Would you like a game of Nine-holes later Hrisskar?, Albecius proposed
- No, no. I'm already up in debts. I need to get my money first.
- Here you go, one bottle of mazte. So Albecius, how'd you find out about this fool who lost the Mentor's Ring?, Arrille wondered
- Err..

The sound of the door downstairs interrupted their conversation, Arrille went down to greet the potential costumer. In the doorway stood an argonian, he was wearing tattered clothes and in his hands he held a pair of documents and a pouch of gold. Arrille only knew of one argonian in Seyda Neen and that was Fine-Mouth, this was however not Fine-Mouth. It could be an escaped slave. No, the slavers nearby are armed and have a mage. It is unlikely that the slaves from Addamasartus have escaped. He must be the one that arrived earlier by boat.

- Greetings altmer., Nimar said
- Hello there argonian. I am Arrille and this is my trade-house. Might you be new to these parts?, Arrille asked
- Yes. I came by boat before dusk.
- Well then, let me welcome you to Seyda Neen. What's your name argonian?, asked Arrille (pleased with his educated guess being correct)
- Niim-Arrhe, do you have a satchel for sale?
- Of course, ten septims.

Fargoth had just sneaked into Sellus' office when a guard entered the room, he quickly hid under the table. The guard looked around the room but did not notice the wood-elf. The guard smiled to him self and approached the office's bookcase where the captain kept a flask of fine Cyrodiilic Brandy. The guard took the bottle and left through the front door. Fargoth started breathing again and left his hiding-spot, slowly opening the back-door he peered out looking for this barrel the argonian mentioned. Just looking a bit to the right he saw the barrel, and on it a lit-lantern. He lifted it up an inch and under it laid his precious ring. Fargoth jumped up in joy and accidentally dropped the lantern, he managed to take the ring before it was engulfed in flames. He had dropped the lantern on the barrel instantly setting it to flames. The crashing sound was quite a loud one alerting most people in the vicinity. Trying to think quickly Fargoth decided that the best plan for escape was to hide under the table once again. Three guards came running in and through the office, Fargoth saw his escape route open up. He got out from under the table and went for the front door. A loud shout from behind him froze him. It was a guard who shouted to him, “You there, Fargoth! Stop!” but Fargoth was done listening to imperials. He ran. He was quicker than the guard, luckily, and there was only one chasing him. The others went for water to turn the fire out. He ran towards Arrille's Trade-house hoping to say his last good-byes. Up the stairs and turned the corner, thud!, there was that argonian who helped Fargoth. He was wearing nicer looking clothes, had a satchel strapped to his shoulder and weapons on his back.

- Oh, by the gods thank you! You need to help me argonian! They are after me again!, Fargoth cried
- Guards?, Nimar asked annoyed
- Yes yes the guards! Shaking me down as always.
- They are law-men. I won't fight them for you.
- Then what do I do? Should I run? Run away, quick, far, no more guards?
- Sure. Do this.
- Ah, run I shall! No more shaking Fargoth down I tell you!

Fargoth stood up, with newly born confidence in his eyes. He jumped down on top of a shack and further down to the ground. Then he started running due west. Nimar looked at the little bosmer running as fast as he could. The guard chasing Fargoth now turned up out of the corner.

- Hey you! Nimar! Did you see a wood-elf here just now?, the guard asked
- That is him there., Nimar said pointing to the west at the small figure that was Fargoth
- Hmm shame. Well, he will be back.
- What has he done?
- He lit a barrel on fire and ran for it.
- Such vandal.
- A vandal indeed. Goodbye citizen.

Nimar was very satisfied by his recent bartering. One satchel with a strap, a spear, a sabre, bow and arrow, a quiver and clothes that you could be seen wearing. When Arrille asked about armour Nimar only wanted a shield and a bracer for his right wrist. “You know you've purchased a lot here today let me throw in a free cuirass just for you” to which Nimar responded “A briastplate would only slow me down”. Nimar planned on taking this Silt-strider to Balmora. Interrupting him on his path was a female altmer.

- You there! My name is Eldafire, might I ask you for a favor?, Eldafire wondered
- Yes altmer, what is it?, Nimar said
- Well I have tried reasoning with the guards they however claim that they have no time for t his matter of utmost importance. You see there are some smugglers in a nearby cave, Addamasartus, and I just thought to myself “That fellow over there look like he can handle himself” perhaps you would like to take care of this matter?
- I can take care of myself, but why risk life over these smugglers?
- Well I thought they might interest you. You see they have slaves. Argonian slaves.

This did catch Nimar's attention. Killing slavers was that which got him into prison to begin with. But when asked to do this, how could he resist? He gave Eldafire a courteous nod and walked back towards the offices. He stopped one of the guards for a talk.

- I have a question for you imperial., Nimar said
- Yes, Nimar, what is it?, the guard asked
- I have been told there is a smugglers cave nearby.
- This is correct.
- If I were to clear it out, killing the smugglers, would I be arrested?
- No, they are criminals, you would not be arrested for this.
- Good.

Nimar started walking back to the edge of Seyda Neen. He asked Eldafire for directions towards Addamasartus. She pointed him towards the caves behind a large rock. His pace quickened. Hist whispered, free brothers and sisters, Nimar obeyed.

Well, this is my first try at a fan-fic. Also my first try writing "literature" in english. So please, constructive criticism is appreciated!

Keep it coming!

wow... this is very interesting... i think that you are doing a very great job, especially since this is your first fan-fic! Keep up the good work! :goodjob:

Well thank you! There's alot more to come. As for chapter two, I'll aim for someday this week.

Chapter 2: Killing again

Melar Baram locked the gate to the slave-pen, this time he did not look the slaves in the eye. He gave the key to one of his associates, she was however smiling. He went further down the cave to check up on the goods. There were mostly random goods, soul gems, magical scrolls, some armour pieces and some weapons but the real money laid in the illegal substances. Skooma and moon-sugar, something that Melar and his companion smugglers had lots of. Some had been wasted when Baadargo was supposed to move one crate of sugar, he had savagely ripped the lid of the crate and jumped into the good stuff. Melar had scorched the khajiit's tail for this. The merchandise looks good though. He now wanted to leave, too close to the imperial swits. Mulvise had been confident that they didn't care about “small-time” smugglers, this was true since no one would believe that Melar and his crew traded khajiit-candy. But still. It was time to leave. It was also time to get rid of the slaves. The idea was to drown the cat and burn the lizards. Since all goods are, well, good, it is finally time. Melar spoke with Mulvise who was watching over the crates.

- Let's leave, Melar pleaded
- You really don't like it here do you?, Mulvise asked
- Of course not, all these n'wah so close. I say we leave for the mainland!
- You know who wants our shipment! She will not tolerate us leaving Vvardenfell at all!
- We will discuss where we go, later. You need help drowning the cat?
- I could use Tanisie's help.
- Fine, I'll go get her for you.

He turned around and started walking, when he looked up the ladders he saw an argonian wielding a bow. Quickly he readied a fireball daring the argonian to release his arrow.

Tanisie sat by the fire, the cave-entrance at her back, poking the rat-meat she was preparing to eat. She was bored, however thrilled about news that she would get the chance to kill some slaves. Those stupid slaves, one of them scratched her during their capture. She had killed it instantly, giving birth to her new found thirst for killing. Melar had noticed Tanisie's blood-thirst and kept her far away from the slaves at all time, reducing her to guard-duties. But her time has finally come, she would ignore the plan and just kill all three slaves with her own hands. It's not like Melar will kill me for it, he wanted the slaves dead so he will dead slaves. What a masterplan Tanisie had cooked up. Not like this rat.

- Smuggler?, a voice said

It was a filthy-lizard voice, this angered Tanisie.

- Slave?!, Tanisie shouted

Her shout was met with a spear to the throat.

Nimar was surprised by the lack of defence. He checked her body for anything of interest. A key, that was all that he kept. He looked through the gate into the next area of the cave, no-one to be seen. He readied his bow with an arrow and went through the gate. Up to the left he saw the slaves. He shushed them to stay silent then turned around to walk down to the next area, there was another dunmer approaching him. He aimed his bow but the dunmer was quick with a spell.

The dunmer and the argonian stood in a standoff. Bow against fire. Nimar felt he had the upper hand. An arrow is much quicker than a spell, and he was an excellent shot. The dunmer lost his patience screaming out “Now you die!” releasing his fireball in the direction of the argonian. He readied a weakness-spell and threw this as well. Nimar released his arrow the moment he heard the dunmer's shout, piercing him though the eye. Melar died instantly. Mulvise, seeing her old boss die picked up some throwing stars and charged towards the point where Melar was throwing spells. There was however no-one there. Confused Mulvise shouted out “Where are you fetcher!?” then she heard a soft thump behind her. Turning around her throat got slit by a sabre.

Nimar was pleased with his newly purchased weapons. They were light and sharp, all an agile argonian could ever need. He quickly searched the cave for more fiends, all were gone. He went upstairs to the slaves and unlocked the gate. They thanked him as he unlocked their slave-bracers. Nimar did not care about the smuggler's goods. He would tell the authorities and then leave for Balmora. The slaves and Nimar rested until morning before leaving.

Outside of Addamasartus they planned the slaves escape, Nimar went to Arrille's and bought new clothes for them. With their new clothes they started planning and thanked Nimar once again. He r left them to their fates. As he approached the caravanner, Hist whispered to him, west, Nimar obeyed.

Just west of Seyda Neen Fargoth had managed to set up a small tent on a tiny island. An island is in this case the size of a small house, which was perfect for Fargoth. He had no plan on getting food, surviving or what the future held for him. Yet. For now, getting his old pillow was priority number one. Perhaps he even could drag his bed from his house over here. What a magnificent island this will be! But first, my bed. On his way back to Seyda Neen he stumbled upon something horrifying, the dead body of Processus Vitellius and that argonian crouching next to him.

- By the gods! Did you, did you kill him?, Fargoth asked in panic
- No., Nimar bluntly responded
- Oh. I see. Can you? Can you prove it?
- This one's been dead for days. His face is yellowish and a scrib has eaten parts of his hand.
- Hmm. And he was missing before you arrived here! I just remembered, I've not asked for your name argonian.
- I am Niim-Arrhe. And you are Fargoth, barrel-pyromaniac.
- Hey! I just dropped the lantern as I took my ring, that You told me about!
- I don't care.

Nimar searched the dead man's pockets. 200 septims and tax records, Nimar took both of these.

- You should take those to Ergalla, Nimar., Fargoth pointed out
- Indeed.
- Er, before you do that. Could you help me?
- With what?
- I was thinking of getting my bed from my house.
- I don't think guards will kill you for burning a barrel. You don't need to move here.
- No, I don't want to live in Seyda Neen anymore!
- Carry your bed or don't. This is not my problem.
- Well thank you so very much! You know I thought that you and I were about to become very close!

Fargoth walked in anger to his old home. Determined to show all that he, by himself, could carry or drag his bed all the way to his new island.

Nimar was greeted by Socucius Ergalla with the least of enthusiasm. A curious look on his face and a slight nod.

- I found the body of your tax collector. He had these on him., Nimar said and gave Ergalla the money and tax-records
- Murdered? What a waste. Processus was a good man. I had been wondering why we hadn't heard from him in a few days. And how odd that he was murdered but not robbed. Your honesty is appreciated, I can tell you that. I'd like to see the murderer of Processus punished. Killing an Emperor's tax collector is punishable by death. Find his murderer, bring him to justice, and the Census and Excise Office will pay you 500 septims.
- It is my job to bring murderers to justice? And smugglers? What is it your guards do here?
- I am giving you the opportunity to both make some well-deserved money and bring justice to this world! And we both know that You can take care of yourself. It is just a suggestion that you are the one to take care of this.
- Then I will take care of this. Where do I start?
- Ask the locals about him and what he did other than collecting taxes. Also take the tax records with you, maybe there are hints in there.

Nimar left the census-office and started questioning the locals.

Foryn Gilnith sat by his table eating rice dipped in scrib-jelly. He had just finished reading A Dance in Fire, chapter 6 and was thinking of getting a new book from Arrille's. He was short on septims but could use the ring he took from Processus' body as a trade. Foryn was bored with his life in Seyda Neen. That a pure dunmer were to live in a shack while n'wah lived in houses was a disgrace to him. How he had returned a piece of justice by killing that Tax-collector was his only virtue. Now, he was just waiting for someone to confront him with the fact that he was a killer. And through the door, this someone came.

- I was wondering when the new guy would come over here to personally greet me., Foryn said with a sarcastic tone
- Did you kill Processus?, Nimar asked
Foryn was shocked by the argonian's bluntness, but as planned he would not hide this fact.
- That fetcher? You're damn right I did him in, and a good thing, too. He was skimming a load of money from all of us honest people; overcharging us on our taxes and keeping the difference for himself. He was always flaunting his money around, showing off his new clothes and jewels. So, I killed the bastard, and left his body out there to rot, with all his ill-begotten gold still on him.
- All I needed to hear, follow me to Ergalla. He will decide your fate.
- You're one of them, huh? Come to kill me? Well, give it your best shot, argonian. I've no problem spilling more of the blood of the Emperor's lackeys!
- Fine.

Foryn lunged himself towards Nimar, aiming to grab his throat. Nimar gracefully dodged to the side, calculating if he really were to kill this dunmer. Seeing how this was the killer and his assignment was to punish him with death Nimar decided to kill him. As Foryn missed the argonian he tripped on his book and fell to the floor. Nimar decided that this dunmer didn't deserve honour he would usually give a man laying on the floor and lifted his spear striking it through Foryn's spine. The dunmer groaned and died. Nimar wiped the spear clean with Foryn's shirt and searched his body for this ring that Processus's girlfriend had mentioned. Nothing but saltrice in his pockets, looking up Nimar saw the ring on the table. He grabbed it and left Foryn's shack. Processus' girlfriend Thavere was thankful for the ring and rewarded Nimar with potions, Nimar declined. Potions are heavy and he is currently not in need of them.

Socucius Ergalla was somewhat lighter in his greeting of Nimar this time.

- Ah, Nimar! I heard you had been asking around about his murder. Were you able to find the killer?, Socucius wondered
- Yes. Foryn Gilnith, Nimar said pointing to Foryn's name on the tax-records
- And did you deal with him?
- He attacked me after I spoke of the killing. In return I killed him.
- I'm glad to see this matter brought to its completion. Here's your reward, Nimar. Good to see there are still some citizens who understand their loyalty to our Emperor.
- Goodbye Ergalla.
- Yes farewell Nimar! Gancielle! Make sure someone cleans up this, er, Foryn's home.

The sun was just about to set, good time for a rest thought Nimar. He went to Arrille's for a meal. There he spoke with Elone who gave him more detailed instructions on how to get to Balmora by foot. The bard was playing a rather upbeat song and Arrille singed along. Suddenly emerging from the stairs was Albecius Colollius, fore-head sweating and with a big grin on his face. Hrisskar who had been sitting alone on a chair, appearing a bit grumpy, lit up when he saw Albecius.

- Ha Ha! Finally back are you!, he shouted out
- Indeed I am, and I took your advice too Arrille!, Albecius said and pointed to Arrille
- So you went on an adventure? Well then, sit down, I will get some beverages and you will tell us all that happened., Arrille said with enthusiasm

The bard stopped playing, feeling uncomfortable since he was the one who usually told tales of adventures. Everyone sat down on chairs waiting for Arrille to bring drinks. Even Nimar decided to stay and listen, he wanted to see if these adventures were of the same quality as his own recent doings.

- Well, you all know about this Mentor's Ring I told you about. I decided to go after it, and all I knew was that it were somewhere along the Bitter Coast. So I started walking along the coast, beginning from this trade-house. I brought with me my steel axe and a few potions. After killing at least ten mudcrabs along my way a large stone blocked my path and after climbing it I found it. The tomb. Taking a deep breath I went inside. Down a long hall of stairs and then another hall. With pedestals of urns on both sides and in front of me. A bonewalker! Since it hadn't seen me yet I quickly charged it, planting my axe deep in its skull. This was not however a killing blow! After my attack it turned around, made a horrifying screech and attacked me with its arms. This is when I cut off its head. Relieved that the fight was an easy one I continued down the hall.

Albecius took a sip from his glass and then continued.

- There was a room with shrines to the Almsivi and one or two chests with no treasure worth mentioning. When I was about to open the last door I felt the cold hand of a ghost! Not taking any chances I struck it with all I got, shocked it back to oblivion! Or aetherius. Thinking that it was the last fiend down there I opened the door not thinking about resting up after all that magicka usage. There stood a greater bonewalker! It grabbed me by my throat, lifted me up into the air and used its magic to drain me of my strength. Fortunately I held my axe in my right hand and chopped his one off! It struck me with its other arm, I however used the same tactic once again. This left him armless! Now all it had was its teeth which it tried to use against me, this was remedied with one last chop from my axe and there it laid dead once again. Now the coast was clear and in front of me stood an Urn it was labeled Lord Brinne. I looked inside. And there I found it!

Albecius took out the Mentor's Ring from his pocket. It was a beautiful purple ring with a light glow. He put it on his finger and he looked like he had just taken a sip of the most refreshing drink of his life.

Nimar was impressed by his story, yet he did not partake in the praise-giving ritual the others initiated. He felt that he had gotten everything he could out of Seyda Neen. It was time to leave. He would use the instructions given by Elone and go by foot. Nimar did not say any goodbyes, he left at midnight.

Chapter 3: Sugar-Tooth

Caius Cosades lived in a small house on the north edge of Balmora. He was usually referred to as “that old sugar-tooth” or simply “old man”, Caius was very pleased by this. The perfect cover he called it. And he did enjoy the moon-sugar, although a little too much lately. This day Caius sat on his bed, ever so jolly, reading through Nine-Toes' latest report. At this moment the words didn't make much sense, something about red stones being eaten by dreams near the coast. Why would Nine-Toes report this? But Caius still loved Nine-Toes and he was incredibly happy that he still had ten toes himself. These thoughts made Caius realize it was time to rest, and perhaps not use his skooma-pipe for another day. Word had reached his ears that a new guest was to appear. He wanted to prepare for this someone's arrival but he was too tired. Caius fell asleep with Nine-Toes' report in his hands.

A loud knock on the door and Caius' sleep was interrupted. Headache and a sore back were today's punishment for the sugar. He sat up on the bed, documents falling of him, light blinding him and another knock on the door to increase his headache. Caius slowly rose up, headed towards the door and hoped that he would sober up on the way. He opened the door. A quite tall figure stood before him, decent clothes but no shoes. He now realized this was an argonian.

- Are you Caius?, Nimar asked
Shape up Caius! This is the guest you've heard of!
- Yes, in the flesh., Caius answered
- I have a package for you., Nimar gave the document to Caius
- Mind if I read this before I react? Sit down! Have some, shein., Caius pulled out a chair and placed a bottle of shein on the table.

Nimar sat down opposite of Caius who started to read in silence. Nimar looked around the house, one misplaced pot of plants on the table, sacks spread out all over the floor. One particular thing that made Nimar even more sceptic was the skooma-pipe under the bed. Was this the living-quarters of the man I am supposed to serve? Hist whispered, fate. This was the last time Nimar felt Hist presence.

Caius first skimmed through the document, he didn't need a legend to understand the encrypted text, then read it again. Apparently this argonian was to become one of the blades. This and a lot more. Well then, Caius smiled, first things first. This Nimar was not a rookie, Caius saw it in his eyes. They were argonian eyes but still. There was one problem, Caius did not know who Nimar was and that meant that no-one on Vvardenfell knew who Nimar was. And if someone runs around just asking questions for an imperial spy, well. It is going to look suspicious.

- You'll need a cover., Caius said interrupting the silence
- What?, Nimar said in surprise
- If you are going to work for the Blades, you'll need a cover.
- I am going to work for the Blades?
- You were not aware? Well then, let me explain this document you gave me. It says that the Emperor himself wants me to make you a novice of the Blades. And that means you will be following my orders. Are you ready to follow my orders? Niim-Arrhe?
- I was told to do so.
- Well. That is good. Do you have experience?
- In what?
- Fighting? Magic? Coercion? What do you do?
- I drew maps of the borders and hunted for the clan.
- So you don't need training I guess, mind telling me why you were in prison?
- I killed five slavers, house Dres I was told.
- Aha, so you are the one who killed them?
- You heard of this?
- Please, I am the spymaster here in Morrowind. Not just Vvardenfell, all of significance reaches my ears. But this is good, it means that you have experience. That wizard was a Telvanni big-shot. Apparently he started working within the slave-trade, not collecting slaves each week but each day. Your brethren would be proud.
- And the others, who were they?
- Rookies. Strong! But still rookies. But enough of history, interesting. Yet enough. As I said, you need a cover. And a good one. You're a fighter, why not join the fighters guild. Advance in ranks, get to know the land and the people. Become known for something other than being sent here by your Emperor. Do this, come back and I will have orders for you.
- But this is my first order? Become known?
- Indeed it is. There are of course other ways to attain a cover identity, freelance, other guilds, deadra-worship etcetera.
- Freeing slaves?, Nimar said with a smile (it sounded like a smile Caius thought)
- Now that is unfortunately against Morrowind law, do that in your spare time. When no-one sees you.
- Well, fighters guild sounds interesting.
- Ah, before you leave. Do you have a map? Let me show you were all our Blades are located.

Roland Loche arrived in Balmora late at night. He was a breton, a mage and was sent to Morrowind on request of his superiors in the Mages guild. They sent him from the Arcane University to investigate the structure of the Morrowind guild halls. Especially the Arch-Mage, Trebonius. An imperial battlemage, a good battlemage yet a bad leader. The Arch-Mage of the Arcane University was concerned by Trebonius latest report. “I am fine”. And the courier was a scamp. Roland was sent immediately, with the directions “Get to know the people of Morrowind's Mages guild, estimate if Trebonius should be put down and replace him with either a local talent or yourself”. This, to Roland, meant that he could take things slow and in his own way. Which of course is the best way. He would start out in Balmora and join the guild. Roland had already come up with his own, new, improved background; born in High-Rock, raised as a court-mage. In reality Roland was born somewhere on Summerset Isles yet raised in Cyrodiil, mainly Chorrol. Now he was an extremely talented mage specialising in mysticism and conjuration.

Roland paid the caravanner and smiled. The land here in Vvardenfell was beautiful and the mushrooms mysterious. Roland’s alchemical nose was twitching, he had jumped off the Silt-strider several times just to anolyse the flora and fungi. Double the payment for the ride, but it was worth it. Potions that make you levitate. Bringing these to Cyrodiil will make me wealthy. Now he gazed out at Balmora. Typical Hlaalu town. According to the caravanner, Guilds were located just a bit to the north with visible signs. No point in lingering here with these locals. He left for the guild immediately.

Nimar and Nine-toes had discussed Vvardenfell geography and politics for almost an hour when Nimar left. To Nimar’s surprise the blade operatives in Morrowind gladly traded with moon-sugar, much to Caius gain, and they encouraged him to sell it to the Khajiits. Nimar interpreted this as one way of following orders. The trader in town named Ra’Virr received several pouches filled with sugar this day. Nimar in return gained coin. Coin was needed for bribes Caius had told him. Nimar used the coin to buy new clothing and weaponry. The second thing Caius had told Nimar was to become famous, so that he could later on work for the Blades. Nimar had decided to sign up with the fighters guild. Caius had mentioned Percius Mercius as someone within the guild to trust. He was in Ald'ruhn, which was Nimar's next destination.

Nimar had asked Nine-toes how to get to Ald'ruhn, there were three ways. Standard silt-strider, by foot or let a guild guide transport you via magicka. This sounded interesting. Nimar headed into the mages guild. There he was greeted by Ranis Athrys who warned him about how apprentices often duelled in the halls. Nimar witnessed this, a khajiit and a bosmer summoning lesser daedra and casting fire balls. They were accompanied by healers waiting in the background. When the Khajiit was knocked unconscious by the atronach, the healers jumped in and restored her. Nimar went up to the nearest breton for information. The breton that he approached was sitting by a dinner table, reading a book titled “2920, Morning Star”. Nimar called for his attention with a short, friendly-sounding, hiss.

- You know... I really thought that Savirien-Chorak would win., the breton blurted out as a response.
- I have not read this book., Nimar said.
- Then. All I can do is recommend it! I am still looking for the entire set. The Potentate's speech is one I would love to read. Well, you do not look magelike but introductions are still in order. I am Roland Loche! Mages guild, as of today actually., Roland shook Nimar's hand.
- I am Niim-Arrhe. Fighters guild, hopefully as of today.
Roland smiled to this response.
- What can I do for you friend?
- I am looking for the guild guide.
- Aha, that would be her over there., Roland pointed to a woman in the room opposite of the corridor, Don't ask me for her name though. I've not gotten to know everyone yet.
- Thank you. Roland.
- Not one problem Niim! Perhaps we'll meet again!
- Maybe so.
- In any case, keep a lookout for the 2920, Evening Star! I will pay good money for it.
- Will do breton, farewell.
- Bye now!

Roland was an “outlander”, Nimar could tell. Even the local Saxhleel had greeted Nimar somewhat coldly. Was it the climate of Morrowind's hatred for foreigners that infected even these non-dunmer? A not so bright future for me. He approached the breton that Roland had pointed to.

After the argonian had been teleported to wherever he was going Roland finished his book. It was always a bit to short for his taste. This was Roland's only regret, why didn't I bring my books? To heavy. Well Morrowind can surely provide with new and interesting literature.

- Enough reading!, Roland said in a high voice.

The orc standing in a corner looked up from her own book, frowned and kept reading. Roland had obviously, to himself, not meant her. It was time to carry out his duties to the guild. Ranis Athrys had told him to talk to Ajira. The quests for an associate would probably be some kind of dirty work. “Clean up the alchemists corner” or “Sort these books alphabetically” were Roland's first duties back in Chorrol. Good memories to Roland. He greeted Ajira with a big bright smile.

- What Khajiit do for you?, Ajira said.
- Er, well. Khajiit have duties for, er, breton?, Roland responded.

Nimar disappeared in a small white flash, easy on the eyes, and appeared in a small round room.

- Welcome to Ald'ruhn argonian., an altmer woman greeted him.
- Thank you., Nimar answered.

He continued through the guild hall, a dark-blue glowing place with no real source of light, and stepped through the front door. An ash-storm sweeped through the town of Ald'ruhn. Covering his eyes Nimar tried to see if the Fighters guildhall was anywhere near him. Right in front of the mages guild stood the weird, crab-shelled building that was the fighters guild. Nimar entered only to be welcomed by no-one. The hall was empty but voices came from downstairs. Nimar descended the stairs.

Percius Mercius, former Master of the Fighters guild in Morrowind. He laughed and joked with his fellow guild-mates over dinner. Ald'ruhn was a great place to be in the Fighters guild. No-one there had yet been bought by the Camonna Tong. But this would not last long. Percius knew this and it concerned him. He wanted to do something about it but he was old, and the people sitting around the table tonight were not strong enough to stand up against Hard-Heart. Baradras is a bosmer scout and only good for training others how to run fast and efficient. Ergnir is a smith and a nord, probably driven by money. No. Tralan would not do either, good with a blade but no more. Percius liked these men, but they were not good enough. So he kept on joking and laughing today. Perhaps the guild is meant to be run as a criminal organization. I could just leave and settle down somewhere along the coast.

- We got a visitor!, Ergnir shouted.
Nimar had just taken the last step down from the stairs, he was wearing a monk's robe, weapons and shield on his back. He looked over at the table and walked over to the people that ate there.
- Greetings, I am Niim-Arrhe. Here to join the guild., Nimar spoke.
- Hello to you Nimárr. I am Percius, former guild-leader. You say you want to join us? Let me just check your records.
- I have not lived here long enough to have been recorded.
- Then I assume you have no criminal record, and I don't see any guards chasing you. This is all good but can you fight?
- You want to test me?
Percius tried to anolyse the argonian's facial expression. This was impossible to the imperial yet he was convinced that Nimar was smiling.
- Indeed I do. Baradras! Go to the mages guild and see if you can't find me a healer there., Percius ordered.
Baradras quickly swallowed his last piece of meat and ran up the stairs.
- Tralan, ready for a little sparring? Or do we call it a duel?, Percius asked.
- Sure am!, Tralan said with confidence.
- Ready yourself argonian. You need to rest before this?, Percius wondered.
- I am fine. Rules?, Nimar answered.
- Well, no killing blows. We will have a healer, but try not to kill.

Tralan went up to the living-quarters of the guild to get his iron longsword. Ergnir and Percius moved the tables away from the middle of the room. Nimar placed his spear, bow, quiver and satchel on the floor. He wondered for awhile if he was going to use his shield in this fight. No. He was here to prove himself. Flaunting one's skills could not be a mistake. He dropped the shield next to the rest of his equipment. Percius noticed and smiled, he liked this argonian's guts.

Baradras came down the stairs accompanied by a female imperial. She introduced herself as Vala Catraso, a priest working inside the Mages guildhall. The duelling “ring” was quite large, enough room for four combatants. Nimar stood in one end, Tralan in the other. Vala Catraso and the rest stood against the walls waiting to see the fighting commence.

- You both ready?, Percius asked.
- Yes sir!, Tralan yelled.
- Yes., Nimar said.
- Well then! Go!, Percius shouted, starting the battle.

Tralan held his sword and shield in a most peculiar way thought Nimar. Right in front of his body as if he was presenting these weapons to Nimar. The redguard walked up to Nimar with a haste and raised his sword. Nimar dodged the blow and kicked Tralan in his chest, this made him fall backwards. As he fell he took a swing with his sword, Nimar deflected the strike with his sabre. Now Nimar got to thinking. He did not want to humiliate this man, should he finish it quickly without teasing or pretend having a hard time defeating him.

Tralan got back on his feet. Damn! This argonian is good. Tralan now took a more defensive stance. Waiting for Nimar to attack.

Nimar felt it was his turn to attack. When he thought about it this was a difficult situation, this sabre is a bit flimsy. Not wasting time however Nimar faked a strike, raising his sabre, swung it towards Tralan who raised his shield towards Nimar. The argonian missed the shield in order not to get stunned by the recoil, grabbed Tralan's shield with his free hand and threw it away. The redguard now held his sword like a two-handed blade. He raised the sword and lunged it towards the argonian. This was Nimar's chance to attack, he quickly sliced his sabre over the redguard's chest thus ending the battle. A large wound opened up on Tralan's chest, blood pouring out. Percius yelled “A winning strike!” and Vala ran to the redguard's aid. She patched him up quickly with her magic and Tralan was left without a scar. Nimar gladly shook hands with Tralan who raised Nimar's hand into the air declaring him the winner.

- Well then, I guess you're in., Percius said with a smile.

Caius had just sat down by his table when someone knocked on his door. He took his special shirt of and threw it under the bed. He yelled “Come on in!”. A dunmer entered the room. She had several books and documents in her arms. Caius offered her a chair, she sat down.

- Here is the literature concerning the Nerevarine prophecies., the dunmer said.
- Glabrio sent this?, Caius asked.
- No, he ordered me to acquire these and give them to you.
- So. Yes. Is there more?
- Not that I know, I guess local history-scholars could provide with further information.
- This is good, thank you.
- I have more information that might interest you.
- Such as?
- There is a certain someone else who wants literature on the prophecies. I met this other courier when purchasing one of the books. He was working for a person almost as important as your Emperor.
- Spit it out won't you, I don't have all day!
- He was working for King Hlaalu Helseth.
- Really?
- That's what he said.
- You trust that this information is accurate?
- He didn't seem the lying type. When he saw me buy the same book that he wanted, he got all happy and talkative. Probably thought that he had a chance of getting to know me better. If you know what I mean.
- And did you tell him who you were buying books for?
- Not at all, he didn't even ask. Never gave me a chance to lie.
- Good, now if you please.
- Fine, bye Cosades.
- Bye!

Now this is interesting, why would the King of Mournhold take interest in the Nerevarine prophecies? Could he be aware of Niim-Arrhe? Or did Helseth learn that the Emperor was intrigued with Morrowind? Well, everyone of high-rank knows that the Emperor didn't want Niim-Arrhe dead. This meant that the king wouldn't send for the argonian's death. Or would it? These speculations made Caius nervous, he started shaking. It was not cold in the room and he was not scared by the news he had heard. No, no. It was the sugar calling for him. Well, it is night-time.

Caius went through all the sacks on the floor. Was he out of sugar? How could he? There were none in the plant, none under the pillow, none in his jewellery box. He threw the bed on it's side looking underneath it, nothing. Not under the table. Nothing in his books. By the gods where is it? Suddenly he remembered. There was still some in his skooma-pipe. He prepared it quickly and grinded it against his teeth.

Finally.

Rest.

I was lazy trying to spell-check ch.3. Find any errors, feel free to point them out.

Of course all kinds of criticism is appreciated.

Chapter 4: Rats and Criminals

- Now remember, don't mention that we have spoken!, Percius pointed out.
- I won't. If it is as you say and the Camonna Tong has the Master in their pockets, I too want things to change., Nimar said.
- This is great Nimar! Now I will be nearby, under disguise as you can see (Percius was wearing a mages clothing, blue robes and a cowl) waiting for your reports. Now report any order that seems suspicious. I also have some “regular” duties for you later on. But then I will station myself back in Ald'ruhn.
- And where will I find you now?
- I think I should maintain my cover as a professional, I will be at the mages guild next door. Take up some of that reading, yes?
- Farewell Percius.
- You too!

They had been sitting at the South Wall Cornerclub discussing the future for the Fighters guild. Nimar was to investigate who in the guild that received their pay-check from the Camonna Tong. The first one under investigation was Eydis Fire-Eye, the Balmora steward.

When Nimar entered the guildhall Eydis was the first thing he saw, she greeted him with a loud “Speak up!”. She wore bonemold armour and wielded a dwarven mace on her waist. She inspected Nimar with suspicion in her eyes.

- Eydis?, Nimar asked.
- Yes, that's me! And you are?, Eydis answered.
- Niim-Arrhe, I recently joined the guild.
- Hmm, I heard that one argonian joined us yesterday. Are you here for orders then Associate?
- Indeed.
- I actually have two contracts available, just received them. This one's easy, Drarayne Thelas who lives on the opposite side of river Odai wants us to exterminate her rat problem. The second one is to get rid of two egg poachers in the Shulk Egg Mine. You want just the one or both of them? I was going to ask Fasile to do them.
- I will take both. Where do I need to go?
- Well, for the rats just turn left after you leave the guildhall and walk across the bridge over Odai. You will find the egg mine by leaving town from the silt-strider port, continue south and follow the river. When you have a small rickety bridge to your left just turn right and there you have it!
- Well then, off I go.
- Don't stand about! Get moving!

Nimar went outside, nothing suspicious about these quests, and moved towards Drarayne's home. The rat problem was an easy one. Go in, spear the one rat in her bedroom, go up to the storage room and kill the other two rats. Drarayne payed him 100 gold coins for the trouble. As Nimar walked towards the silt-strider he wondered. If it was him that had a rat problem, and if he was unable to kill them, wouldn't alerting the guards be the normal thing to do? They would probably take care of the problem for free. In any case Drarayne's rat infestation worked in Nimar's favour, easy money and possible advancement within the guild.

Nimar strolled through the land following the river, this part of Vvardenfell was beautiful. Green grass, a brawling river, large tree-shaped mushrooms. Scribs appeared to be moving towards Balmora. Migratory? The mines were easy to find, outside stood two miners appearing to take their lunch-break. These couldn't be the poachers, Nimar figured. He asked them about the poachers. Apparently they were former egg miners, called Sevilo and Daynila, but Nimar probably wouldn't get a chance for asking the poachers their names. They had started to attack other miners when encountered. No-one had died yet, but one of the miners called Juillen had lost his finger to the them. Nimar thanked them for the information and went on inside. The mines were easier to breathe in than he had expected, it was also brighter than you would think in a mine. Torches set up on every wall, the kwama-eggs glowing in an eerie orange. The scribs and kwama-workers were not hostile yet the small kwama-scouts attacked in numbers. They were not a problem, they were however an annoyance. Nimar ventured deep into the mines until he suddenly heard voices. Dunmer by the accent. He could not see them, he started to walk carefully and as sneaky as possible.

Sevilo stood pressed up against the stone wall, he looked at Daynila and nodded indicating that he was ready to strike. She stood against the opposite wall, with a clear view of the area that they were standing in. She was ready to raise her arm as soon as this intruder were to appear from the corner, then Sevilo would strike with his pickaxe. He however noticed that the steps had stopped, the intruder had noticed that something was about to happen. That he was being led into a trap. Sevilo frowned and bit his lip, what do we do now? He took a serious look at Daynila and gave her a nod. They were to attack.

Two dunmer charged out of hiding. Nimar had expected this readying his shield and sabre. The male dunmer just rushed him, striking with his pickaxe clumsily. Nimar deflected it with his shield and tried to hit the dunmer with his sabre. Sevilo knew how to parry and even though he was fatigued by his first strike Nimar's hit was blocked. The two dunmer understood that this was a hired killer, mercenary or fighter and took up a formation. They both backed up several metres, Sevilo facing the argonian and Daynila stood behind it. With a little to much confidence Nimar smiled to himself, rapidly threw his sabre and shield to the floor and equipped his bow and arrow. Within the second he fired an arrow aimed at Sevilo's throat, it was a hit. Nimar figured neither of them would have expected ranged fighting in these quarters. He made a quick turn towards the other one. Daynila swung her pickaxe aiming for Nimar's head, he jumped to the left, dropping his bow. The dunmer threw away her pickaxe and picked up Nimar's shield and sabre, fortunately he still had his spear. Nimar drew the spear and delivered the first blow, she blocked it and he felt the recoil strain his muscles. Calm down, he told himself, let her attack. They circled each other waiting for an opportunity. Daynila held the shield high and moved towards Nimar. She probably figured he would not be able to attack her with a good strike in this stance. Nimar pierced her left foot with his spear. She screamed out in pain and dropped to the ground, he ended her pain quickly with his spear to her chest. Nimar walked the room picking up his inventory and took a breather. He had been careless. These were amateurs and almost got to him. Well, it is time to report back.

- Well done associate!, Eydis said to Nimar and gave him a pouch of gold.
- Have anything else that needs doing?, Nimar wondered.
- Nothing right now. Take a rest, spar with Hasphat and Flaenia, get a drink or do whatever it is you argonians do. I also believe that a promotion is in order! You are now an apprentice! But don't think going up the ranks will be as easy as this first one.
- Good bye, nord.

Nimar took this opportunity to get to know the rest of the Balmora guildhall. Downstairs in the training room Hasphat and Flaenia were sparring with staves. It looked as though Hasphat had the upper hand. Their technique was flawed, Nimar thought, no agile moves. Just blocking and hitting. Brute strength. Something Nimar did not have. He sat himself down on a bench waiting to see who would win. The two fighters were both sweating as though they had sparred for hours, bruises covered their forearms and Hasphat had a small cut on his shin. The fight ended anti-climactic as Flaenia took notice of Nimar and gave him a panting “Hello”. The fighters shook hands and declared a tie. Nimar introduced himself and spoke with the two imperials for hours. Hasphat was a scholar in Morrowind history and taught Nimar a little about dunmer customs and ways to get by on the mainland. After a couple of sparring sessions night was already upon them. Three of the bunker beds were already taken, Eydis snored heavily. Wishing all a good night Nimar went to bed and experienced a dreamless sleep, the first in weeks.

There were no assignments available for three days. Just the one that was appointed to Wayn, “go to fort Moonmoth for supplies”. Suddenly after a courier had visited Eydis she called for Nimar and Fasile.

- Orders!, Eydis called out.
- We heard., Nimar responded.
- Fasile! I want you to retrieve a code book from Sottilde, at the South Wall Cornerclub. And Nimar. Helaviane Desele owes one of our clients 200 septims. Deliver Desele's debt money to me., Eydis ordered
- Who is this?, Nimar asked
- Helviane Desele runs a cornerclub in Suran. She owes Manos Othreleth, one of our clients, 200 septims. Bring this money to me and I'll let you keep half of it.
- Will do Eydis!, Fasile said and left the guildhall
- Yes. Will do., Nimar said

This was suspicious. A client wants a code book, and hires the fighters guild to retrieve it. Also another one wants the fighters guild to collect debt money. And I am too keep half of it? This did not make sense to Nimar. If someone wants their money back, would they not want all of it back? This was a shake-down, to keep someone under control. This report would go to Percius.

Roland Loche stared intensely at the candle in front of him. He was sitting next to the new mage associate at the guildhall's dinner area. He now squinted, clenched his jaw and fists. He started sweating, shaking. Could he pull this stunt?

- Look, you don't need to..., the mage associate said.

Suddenly the candle's fire changed colour from fire-red to icy-blue, its energies transmuted and turned into frost. Frost that behaved like fire. Roland rose from his chair, jumped up the table and raised his arms into the air to confirm his victory.

- Well look at that! Impressive!, the mage apprentice said.
- Pff! He probably just turned the colour from yellow to blue., a dunmer mage said.
- Touch it and see for yourself Marayn!, Roland said.
Marayn Dren drew his finger through the blue flame, once, twice and then he kept it there for two seconds.
- I stand corrected. Well done Journeyman., Marayn said with his head turned away from Roland.
- You owe me one book Mr Dren!, Roland said

Percius did not fully understand why it was impressive turning fire into frost. It seemed standard by wizard tricks. But Percius was not a mage. He knew the difference between Rain-of-Sand and the old western techniques. Was this the mage's equivalent? No matter. He was not here to become a mage, just keep on pretending. Percius did however enjoy his time at the mages guild. The food was great, Ajira was an excellent cook. The selection of books was also to Percius satisfaction, during these days undercover he had read four already. Roland had even lend to him the precious 2920: Morning Star, although his grip around the book was firm. Every second hour Roland had asked if Percius was finished reading, “Well, remember to put it on my bed when you're done” was Roland's usual response. Percius wondered if Roland ever slept, his bed was not really a bed to him. From top to toe the bed was covered in books and papers. It was not really stealing, all books in the guildhall's bookshelves belonged to the members, but Roland had travelled to all halls collecting books. Now the breton was leaving to escort an altmer to Pelagiad.

Nimar and Roland passed ways in the guildhall's corridor.
- Aha, a friendly face! Good tidings to you Niim!, Roland said to Nimar.
- You too Roland!, Nimar replied.
- What brings you to our guild?
- The fighters guild. I have put it under investigation.
- An act much needed in Morrowind.
- For everyone?
- For everyone. And how does this bring you here?
- Can I trust you?
- It would seem you already do. You told me you're investigating your own guild.
- My superior is under cover here.
- Makes sense., Roland waved to the new mage associate.
- Is this why you are here? Investigating?
- Let's talk more later. Where people won't listen too much. Seyda Neen? Later tonight?
- Sure. Arrille's trade-house.
- See you there.
- Farewell.

This was good. An informant in the mages guild. Nimar just remembered that he was a blade. Learn the land, the people. The politics.

Percius pointed Nimar to a secluded part of the hall.

- You know Roland?, Percius asked
- I met him here once. He is trustworthy, I think., Nimar said
- He's talented. But I guess you're here to report. Did Eydis act suspicious?
- Today she got a new contract. One she gave to another apprentice, collect a code book from a thieves guild member. Mine is to collect debt money from a tavern owner. I could also keep half of the money. A shake-down?
- Sounds like it. Did she tell you who the client is?
- Manos Othreleth.
- He works for Hlaalu, but guess where he's stationed! At Dren's manor, Camonna Tong. I don't think this contract is legit, according to our guild rules. Hmm, as long as the other apprentice doesn't kill anyone. Getting a code book is not to fishy.
- I will pay the debt money from my own pocket.
- Good man! Keep me in the loops. It would appear that Eydis takes Camonna Tong contracts, nothing big yet. But soon.
- I will see you again. Farewell.

Nimar figured he could not just go back up to Eydis and say that he had collected the money. It needed to take awhile. He could leave for Seyda Neen, pretend to go to Suran. It was a plan. Just outside the guilds he met Flaenia.
- Hi there Nimar!, Flaenia said
- Flaenia, what are you up to?, Nimar asked
- Eydis just now received a new contract, she sent me to Caldera, I'm to dispose of some Telvanni who steals and kidnaps for the ebony mines there.
- Good luck to you!
- You as well Nimar, see you around!

Thefts and kidnappings. Reasonable assignment. No need to report. Continue to Seyda Neen. Nimar went by foot, this time he took the road along Odai River.



Haha! What a view. I can see Vivec, the mainland, ghostgate, well almost all of Vvardenfell. The air up here is so clear. To feel the wind at this level, I mean, I am higher up than the Red Mountain. All the others will be so jealous, I have succeeded even tough no-one believed me. But here it is! Proof that I was correct. I, Tarhiel, was right! Enough of the view I guess, coming down now. The wind feels kind of, ouchy. Wait. I am falling to fast!

AIIEEE!
Aaaagh!

First Nimar was stunned, a colourful bosmer just fell from the sky. Then he noticed that the bosmer was breathing. How is that possible? Nimar ran quickly towards the elf. When there he saw that the bosmer's back was broken, he would not live long.

- I don't want to talk about it., Tarhiel's last words

Tarhiel stopped breathing. In his hands he held three scrolls and on the ground next to him laid a journal. Nimar wondered if he was supposed to do something. Is this something I report to the local guards? After shutting the elf's eyes Nimar continued his journey to Seyda Neen.

Roland and the altmer Itermerel were walking across Lake Amaya. The breton had taken off his shoes. It was an amazing feeling, walking on water. The two mages discussed elemental energies, Roland arguing that damaging your opponents health was the best way to fight and Itermerel argued for the sake of fire. Setting someone aflame caused both pain and terror. But draining someone's life-force could be a cleaner kill. It was a philosophical debate, very calm and civilized. Itermerel wanted to prove his point by sending a lighter fireball against a nix-hound. The initial hit did not kill the hound but it being on fire diverted the hound's attention to putting the fire out. The nix-hound ran for the lake and jumped in. As it now was dripping with water a shock-spell ended the hound's life. With this he proved that fire spells could make an enemy distracted during a fight thus simplifying a kill. Roland argued that fire spells are easily deflected, resisted and detected while draining someone's life-force is more subtle and effective. He could however see the point of fire spells being easier to use and against wildlife they are very effective.

When the two mages reached Pelagiad, Itermerel thanked Roland and gave him the notes that he sought. They were notes about deadra magic, Roland read through them with interest as he wandered towards Seyda Neen. On the way he met a friendly guar drinking water at a small pond, he gave it some hackle-lo leafs. After tasting the water for himself Roland left the guar and kept on moving. At a crossroads between roads to Pelagiad, Vivec and Seyda Neen a dunmer that wore nice looking clothes and some bonemold armour approached Roland.

- Greetings, my friend! It is I, Nels Llendo., the dunmer said
- Why hello! Nels Llendo, a fine evening to you!, Roland said with enthusiasm
- I suppose you have heard of me! No, no... Do not tremble in fear. Nels Llendo is a reasonable man, hardly the cutthroat some would make me out to be. I believe that we can come to a gentlemen's agreement.
- Why do we need an agreement? I thought we were getting along just fine.
- Look, it's a very simple agreement. You, give me 50 septims, I, let you continue on your journey. And believe me, when our transaction is complete you will have nothing to fear from me. As a matter in fact, I can be a very good friend to have.
- Ah, a highwayman. How unfortunate.
- Call it what you want. All I want is to be your friend. And to be a friend of mine requires commitment.
- Look, highwayman. I do not want to kill you, nor pay you.
- I fear you are making an unwise decision, my friend. But, so be it. Though I hate to soil my clothes with your blood. No matter. Such is the life of Nels Llendo.

Nels drew his shortblade and attacked Roland with a graceful striking move. The breton was however prepared. Roland shielded his arm with a magical barrier and blocked the shortblade. Annoyed that he still held Itermerel's notes in his right hand Roland had to fight using only his left hand. Nels had almost fallen to the ground by the recoil that the mage's barrier had given. Roland backed off a few metres, cast a spell to increase his reflexes and speed. Nels frowned and showed his teeth, almost like an angry khajiit, he now lunged against the mage. Roland with enhanced reflexes dodged the sword with ease and placed himself right in front of Nels, then he placed his palm against the dunmer's chest and paralysed him. Nels fell straight to the ground. “Stiff as a deadmer” Roland joked. Saddened that no-one else heard this joke he picked up the shortblade from the ground. For a man with such nice clothes Nels had a scrappy looking blade. Roland disintegrated it without difficulty. Nels laid still on the ground hands shaking, trying to move. Roland leaned over him, looked at him with serious eyes.

- You think about what you done today!, Roland said with a mother's voice

Pleased with his handling of the situation Roland strolled on towards Seyda Neen. Nels soon gained control over his body, unsure about what to do next.

Arrille put two glasses of sujamma on the table, pulled up a chair and sat himself down.

- Hrisskar got arrested?, Nimar asked
- Indeed, for corruption. He started demanding free food and drinks here, he also received bribes and he forced some to pay him money. It was all a big mess., Arrille explained
- And the battlemage? Where is he?
- He got a taste of adventure, went out on a quest to gather artefacts. Though I don't know if he had any leads. Just pointed his axe in a direction and took off running.

The trade-house was almost empty this night, other than the bard playing guarskin-drums there was only Nimar and Arrille. Elone was out on a mission to investigate a boat that apparently took passengers to the mainland, this was now illegal due to the blight-disease outbreak. Fargoth was still “missing” and his house emptied, a for sale sign was just put up outside the house.

When Roland entered the town of Seyda Neen there was only one guard outside. “Tidings citizen”. One big sign read, Arrille's Trade-house, and in Roland went. He gave the place his approval by looking around and nodding in an agreeable manner. “Upstairs, Roland!” an argonian voice shouted.

- How did you know it was me?, Roland asked
- Mysticism., Nimar answered
Roland went up and sat himself down. Arrille shook hands with the breton and went downstairs so that he could tend to his shop.

After a few adventure-swapping stories Roland wanted to talk serious.

- So, Nimar. Tell me of this investigation you're conducting., Roland said
- When I joined, Percius trusted me with information. Information that said the camonna tong is paying guild master Hard-Heart to do business with them., Nimar explained
- And what is your plan of action?
- Find out who works with Hard-Heart and deal with them. Then deal with Hard-Heart.
- You mean kill?
- Not if I don't have to.
- I need to do some reading, get to know the way of this Camonia Tong.
- And what about you? What is your big mission here on Vvardenfell?
- I've been sent from the Arcane University to investigate the state of Morrowind's arch-mage. He always was a fool, but we believe he is more of an idiot now.
- How so?
- He's making unreasonable demands, creating armies of dreughs, building Anumidiums and learning the language of silt-striders. He even asked me to find out what happened to the dwemer. I am going to rise in rank and then make him step down. Gain the trust of the people, then take action.
- Wise plan.
- You are going by the same approach?
- Indeed.
- Well then Nimar, we have the same goals. Different guilds, but same goals. Well, similar. If you ever need help, I will try.
- So will I.

Roland and Nimar drank to their new friendship.

Eydis was awakened by a courier's whiny voice. “Delivery!” A contract for Dura gra-Bol. An outlaw living openly in Balmora. I'll just give it to the next person who asks for duties. She got out of bed, got dressed and asked Wayn to make a meal.

Dura gra-Bol got off the silt-strider, paid Selvil the fee and went for her home. Shargam gro-Shagdulg stopped her on the bridge.

- They're onto you., Shargam told her
- The who?, Dura wondered
- The officials, I saw papers being exchanged between couriers and guards and other people.
- And that means they are after me? You are paranoid.
- I am Not paranoid! You know I am right when I am right.
- Well. Let them come! I won't move one bit.
- Please Dura, let me help you.
- No!
Dura left their conversation with haste. She closed her door with a slam, not noticing the argonian sitting on the city walls next to her house.

Nimar entered the fighters guildhall. There he was met by Eydis.
- Have you gotten the debt money back?, Eydis loudly asked
- Yes, here it is. Two-hundred., Nimar said and gave her a pouch of gold
- Excellent, keep a hundred for yourself. Good work Nimar.
- Any other contracts for me?
- Eager to work I see! There actually is another contract for you. There's a bounty contract for the orc Dura gra-Bol. This Orc is an outlaw, living openly in a house here in Balmora. I have a contract here that says 250 septims are yours if you bring her to justice.
- I will take it.
- Good man! Well, don't stand about!
- I will move.

Nimar figured he should check with Percius, it was a question with a short answer after all. Percius assured him that this contract was legit, Dura gra-Bol was wanted for murder. Nimar planned as he walked. Disarm the orc, break an arm if necessary, and bring the orc to an official. He asked around to find out were her house was.

- I think he lives by the river, on the east side of town., the nord Heddvild told Nimar
- He? I thought Dura was a female?, Nimar questioned
- I don't know! It's an orc! What difference does it make?!

Nimar knocked on a few doors on the east side of Balmora, no orcs opened. The last house to check was locked. No-one's home. He decided to wait, in hiding though, on the wall next to the house. After a few minutes a female orc came storming and went inside the house. Guess that's her. Nimar jumped down and walked to the door. He stood there for awhile wondering if he should barge in, just go in or knock. After a minutes waiting Nimar opened the door casually and entered.

can't wait for more!

adding these new characters and writing about their adventures aswell really gave more depth to the story.

Death

Nimar did not see Dura gra-Bol anywhere, her house had a basemant and upper floors. I'm not an assassin, I shouldn't sneak around. He decided to call out for her.

- Hello?!, Nimar shouted
- Upstairs!, Dura gra-Bol responded

She stood by some crates on the third floor. Only wielding a rusty war-axe. Good for me. Dura looked Nimar up and down, walked up to him and crossed her arms.

- Who are you?, she asked
- I am Nimar, fighters guild. Are you Dura gra?

As soon as she heard him ask her name Dura drew her axe and attacked. She sliced Nimar's left side abdomen (lumbar) up, a stream of blood hit the wall and Dura's axe was dripping with it. Caught by surprise Nimar put pressure against the open wound and did not manage to protect himself. Dura readied another attack by raising her axe over the head, she struck Nimar again. This time she aimed for his head, Nimar managed to dodge. Yet not enough, she hit his right shoulder with a clean hit and it stuck. More blood poured out of the new wound and the argonian hissed. Nimar gained some control, the axe still stuck in his shoulder he tackled the orc. She fell over landing straight on floor hitting her head against a crate. Nimar removed the axe from his shoulder and threw it down the stairs. He now tried to grab a weapon from his back. However Dura's blow must have dislocated his arm as he could not move it and when trying with his left hand he was unable to remove his spear from its holder. Dura got back up and raised her hands, ready to fight. Fatigued by the massive loss of blood Nimar took two hits in the face, her fists felt like stone mallets and he now coughed up blood. Is this how I die? Fighting an amateur who uses rusty cheap nothings?!

Now Dura grabbed Nimar's throat, ready to choke him to death, and pushed the tired argonian up against the pillar in the middle of the room. Looking to his left Nimar saw a torch attached to the pillar. He quickly grabbed it with his free arm and shoved it into the orc's face, she screamed in agony and shielded her face. Free again from the orc Nimar swung the torch against her and it lit her hair on fire. The swinging motion was tiring and Nimar hissed in agony, Dura patted her face and hair trying to put the fire out, shoved Nimar into the wall and ran for one of her sacks in the corner of the room. Nimar hit the wall only lightly, he finally felt that he could win this mess and walked up to her. She had grabbed a cloth sack and used it to put the fire out, suddenly a hand grabbed the back of her head and rammed her into the wall. Dura was knocked unconscious. Almost falling over from fatigue Nimar lumbered forward to the orc laying on the floor, he turned her head to the side, put his foot on her throat and twisted her head with his hand. She died instantly, neck broken.

Nimar fell to the floor, but he was not yet unconscious, crawled down the first pair of stairs. How much blood have I lost? The last few steps Nimar missed and tumbled down. The door was far away and Nimar's body was heavy. I must call for help. Concentrating on breathing Nimar stopped crawling. Argonians were gifted in mysticism, some had to train, some were natural users. Nimar was a natural and could sometimes communicate with people over smaller distances using using his mind. But who would Nimar call out to? He started to try and contact someone. Caius. But there was no connection. Nine-Toes. To far away? Anyone. Well that never worked. Nimar's mind was slipping. He forgot all the faces. To late now, he stopped breathing.

All alone Nimar laid in a pool of blood. His eyelids closed up slowly.

Chapter 6: Returned


Roland.

A kind of vision entered Roland's mind. Someone dying, a new friend, an orc. The vision came from somewhere, or someone. Pictures blended with orders, or requests, or pleas. It was hard for Roland to make sense of the vision. Is this a message? A memory? Roland had to find out. He was currently trying to read a closed scroll, sitting on the table near Marayn Dren. Roland Looked around, trying to get a sense where this message was coming from. Outside, clearly. He hurried up to the front doors and went outside. Concentrating on what he could recall from the visions Roland looked around in a circle, trying to pinpoint. Something. South-east. The home of an orc. Over the river, by the river, a wall. Hurry! Roland ran, cast a jump-spell, and jumped over the buildings. What if it's a trap? Someone waiting to kill me, plan to kill me. Thought about killing me so intensely that a vision of it was sent to my psyche. Many possibilities entered the mind of Roland, he was a quick thinker and could imagine hundreds of ways any event could end in. He had seen an orc enter this building, a tall building with at least three levels. Detect life. In case of an ambush. But no sign of an ambush, just the faint outline of an argonian lying on the second floor. Nimar! He ripped the door open with telekinesis and ran inside, up the stairs to Nimar's (by the looks of it) corpse. Not breathing, weak heartbeat. The situation was not good, okay, healing, eehm, close the wound, close the wound! Roland did his best as he closed up the wounds, the one on Nimar's shoulder went great however the other one stayed open. I'm not good enough at this, Sharn could handle it! I'll pay her or whatever! He grabbed Nimar and pictured the guildhall's interior, concentrate, and in a small bright flash they were gone.

Sharn gra-Muzgob stood in her corner down the lower level of the mages guildhall. She was reading a journal, the journal of one “Llevule Andrano” and Sharn was intrigued. Just a journeyman enchanter? You don't fool me Llevule! Plans, plans started forming inside the orc's head. No-one in the guildhall knew what she was up to and that was for the best, even though she did not let them know Sharn actually liked the people here. It would be, unpleasant, if the others found out about her. Keep working in secret, Sharn. Keep your secrets.

The smell of blood entered Sharn's nostrils, fresh blood. The worst kind of blood. When she turned around she saw the recently teleported Roland with that argonian laying on the floor. He was bleeding from his waist, shoulder and mouth.

- Oh! Sharn! Time to shine!, Roland shouted
- Is he dead?, Sharn asked
- No no, can you heal him? You are a healer right?
- Right! But I can't teach you spells! Now let me see.., Sharn said and leaned over Nimar

A golden mask. Half-gold-half-grey-half-god-half-good. Betrayal. And death, dead god, dead friend, dead me. In sleep he calls me, in dreams he keeps me. Nimar was twitching in the bunker-bed, Wayn had stayed to watch over him today. The woman in blue, she wants to control. But speaks through sounds, not emotion. The man in pants, he only pants. Run there, run here. He will say. He knows truth. The cat keeps interrupting. Nimar woke. Sat up, fell down. His wound was to painful, for now. He had dreamed every minute during his sleep. Noticing the change of breath Wayn turned around to see the awakened Nimar.

- Well there you go, I knew you would wake up!, Wayn said and left the room

Okay? Nimar turned his head around trying to get a sense of where he was. It was the fighters guild at-least. Not the orc's home nor the dead halls of his dreams. Were they dreams? Or messages?How long was I.. Dead? No, no just sleep. Nimar raised his arms and looked at them, no injuries there. He felt his shoulder, there was a large deep scar yet no pain. Another large scar on his abdomen, this one hurts. Still exhausted Nimar laid down to sleep.

- Sleepy-head has risen! Can I go now?, Wayn said coldly
- Sure, go!, Percius told him, Percius was wearing his “official” outfit now
- Tell him a good job done Percius, I have duties to tend to., Eydis told Percius and patted him on his shoulder
- Let's go Roland , Percius said to the mage

Percius and Roland entered the bunker room, saw that Nimar was resting and they decided to wait.

- Lucky shot there, the orc died and Nimar survived., Percius pointed out
- Who was that orc?, Roland asked concerned
- Only a small-time murderer, she killed a dunmer commoner and refused fines. She only got away because a boat carried her here, from the mainland. I don't know how she got to Nimar, I have seen him fight.
- Lucky shot for her, perhaps. Look I need to leave, I have been here for far to long now. Edwinna will wonder were my report is.
- Don't worry I'll tell him that you saved him, you and Sharn.
- Thank you, good luck with the Camonna tong!
- Good luck with the thick-head.

Nimar did not sleep for long, he awoke just twenty minutes Roland had left. Percius was there, arms crossed and a smile on his face. The wound did not hurt any more, Nimar sat himself up and took a deep breath.

- So tell me, how is it that orc could even scratch you?, Percius asked with glee
- I've been careless. Balance., Nimar responded bluntly
- Balance?
- I have too much on my back. To many weapons.
- Well, glad to see you alive!
- How long have I, slept?
- Four days.
- Meaning I've been here for ten.
- Only ten days? And you've already gotten yourself a near death experience. So how do you feel?
- I don't know. No pain.
- Take your time. Re-boost your strength, I'll be in Ald'ruhn. It is clear now that the Camonna tong and Hard-Heart are partners.
- What do we do now? Same strategy?
- Yes, I'll plan this most carefully. But take your time. We'll see each other later.
- Will do.
- Oh, and by the way. You have Roland Loche and Sharn gra-Muzgob to thank for your life.
- That I will.

Percius left and Nimar fell asleep once again.

A green mask. Ash and clockworks. The woman in blue, the influence. Death, dead god, dead friend, dead we. Nimar forced himself to wake up. Dreams do not matter, only Hist speaks true. These were lies. Nimar quickly rose, feeling that he had been motionless for far to long. Have to do something. Outside a guard lit the town-torches, “Move along, citizen”, the starlight was pleasant. Walking felt nice and jumping from roof to roof was refreshing. No more rest. Not having a reason to sleep, and since agent-work is appropriate during night, Nimar decided it was time to speak with Caius. Old sugar-tooth.

Caius sat in a chair on his roof terrace, a lantern to provide reading-light and a stack of documents were his companions this evening. All these books and papers were similar descriptions of the Nerevarine legend and stories of the elder days in Morrowind. Having gone through half of them Caius wondered how Niim-Arrhe was related to the legends. He fits in on half of the descriptions, or, a third of them. Or only the first paragraph. We need more! Or... Make him fit! Caius scratched his hair, laid down a recently finished book and took a deep breath. It was a fine evening, and Nimar was still alive. Caius had been concerned when he learned that the argonian had been dying, Tyermaillin was sent to Nimar at once. But Sharn gra-Muzgob was good, Tyermaillin had not been needed. Maybe she's so good that Nimar now is a walking corpse. Caius smiled at the idea, then shivered slightly. Let's see what's next, Caius thought and picked up a new document. But he did not get to reading, someone was knocking on his door.

- Who is it?, Caius yelled
- Your latest recruit., Nimar answered and went up to the roof
- Niimarr! Glad to see you alive! I don't have another chair but. Take a seat!
- Nimar sat himself down on the low wall-edge.
- I have come for orders.
- Very well. You have established somewhat of a cover, at least in Balmora. Good enough!
- So what do you need me to do?
- Go to Hasphat Antabolis, you know him?
- Yes, he's in the guild. A strong fighter.
- Good, well I want you to ask him about the Nerevarine secret cult and the Sixth House secret cult. - Even though you both are fighters guild he may want a favour from you. But whatever it is, do it! - Get the info and return to me, preferably tomorrow. After noon.
- Will do.
- And if you get a chance, ask Hasphat about Morrowind history. He can learn you a thing or two about this land. No point in being part of history if you're too ignorant to understand it.
- He has already told me much. But I will keep learning.
- I am happy to hear that.
- I will leave you to your books master, good night.
- See you!

Hasphat was not asleep, he was reading through “Azura and the box” inside the training room. It piqued his interest. I must write a review of this! With a great grin on his face Hasphat got out of bed and left for the training room. He brought a quill and parchment with him, ready to write again. Title. Title, the most important part. Hmm, Dwemer. Dwemer History and Culture. Classy! Hasphat wrote the title, nice, and started to put down his thoughts on the paper.

- Interrupting am I?, Nimar asked
- Nimar! Heard you were living and breathing!, Hasphat exclaimed
- That I am.
- Well, good to see you! What can I do for you?
- You could tell me of the Nerevarine cult and the Sixth House cult.
- Interested in a little history are we? Well I do have some information about both of those cults. Mostly about the Sixth House, might want to ask Sharn gra-Muzgob about the Nerevarine prophecies. But there's much to say about the Sixth House, I'll write it down for you.
- Thank you, Hasphat.
- It's gonna take a few hours to get it all down.. Perhaps you could do me a favour as I write?
- Perhaps, what is it?
- There are Dwemer ruins nearby called Arkngthand. Now I've recently learned that a dwemer artefact may be present there. It's called a “Dwemer puzzle box”. A little cube with a circular design and some symbols on one side. Could you go and get it for me? I would appreciate this a lot.
- Why not. Time to stretch my legs.
- Good man! Now let me describe how to get there...

Preparation is the key. Nimar had almost been killed. Twice. One extra piece of weight had to go. And the loser is, his sabre. Nimar realized that he should use his old strategy, don't let an enemy get close, it was good and easy to remember. In case and enemy got close he could use his shield. It was a nordic leather shield with a sharpened edge, with the right momentum a correct strike with it could slit throats. Or at least rip chests open. How brutal. Nimar was not really used to thinking about killing man and mer, back home it was mostly hunting. But as he thought about it, Nimar had killed a lot recently.

He attached bow, spear, quiver and shield to his back. The guildhall was quiet, yet listen carefully and you could hear Hasphat writing, most were sleeping. Nimar had slept for too long, time for adventure. Exploring ancient ruins, very exciting. Maybe, I bring someone. Perhaps Roland, as a thank you.
Nimar planned on going to the mages guild to see if Roland Loche wanted to go exploring ruins. Outside of the fighters guildhall Nimar found him, stashing crates upon one another. Roland was, through telekinesis, lifting crates over from Melor's armoury to a carriage standing in the middle of the market-centre.

- Is this how the mages guild work?, Nimar asked in a high voice
- No no, this is an. Extra job. Easy drakes so to speak., Roland said and turned around.

- Nimar! Good to see you up!, Roland said when he noticed it was Nimar.
- I hear I have you to thank for my life.
- That you do. But Sharn gra-Muzgob is the one who patched you up., Roland said and smiled
- Well, I appreciate it. As a thank you, would you like to go adventuring?
- Hmm, odd way to thank someone. But you know what, I'm in! Just let me finish moving these boxes.

The two walked by the road, discussing Morrowind history. At least what they knew so far. Roland also talked about his life before Morrowind. He spoke of his early life in Chorrol and his time in the Arcane University. How he sometimes got hired by necromancers to supply them with corpses. Some consider it immoral, Roland considered it to be an opportunity. Get attacked by bandits or highwaymen, "well you gotta do something about the corpses". Their conversation was interrupted when they reached the dwarven bridge that lied in front of Arkngthand. They were ambushed by a nord shouting “SNOWY GRANIUS, SNOWY GRANIUS!” over and over again throughout the fight. He summoned a ghost and a daedric spear then charged at Roland. In turn the breton threw a dispel-spell at the nord, disabling the link between undead and him. The ghost disappeared, yet not the spear. I like a little bit of challenge. Roland gave Nimar the go-ahead and backed off by levitating. Spear against spear, Nimar held his in the right hand and shield in the left. The nord, appearing to be insane, just charged and kept screaming. Nimar jumped out of the way in the last minute and used his tail to trip the nord. The insane man fell and tumbled down the small hill, Nimar readied an arrow. Released and won.

- One down!, Roland shouted in a war-cry manner

On the outside these dwemer ruins consisted of an entrance, statues of a dwemer hero and some towers. The door was shut, Hasphat spoke of a crank, and Nimar turned it. The way was opened and the two travellers entered.

- I think we should move., one imperial said
- No!, another imperial answered
- Look boss, this is a bad spot. No caravans go through here, and we have the fort just outside!, a breton pointed out
- No!, the imperial referred to as Boss replied
- But why? Why do we stay here?
- Because I say so! And I am BOSS! Boss Crito!

The Boss stormed out of the living room area, could be the kitchen area, going back to his personal quarters. His merry band of smuggler/bandits all looked at each other, concerned about their so called boss.

- I say we do our, revolution, right now! The boss has lost it and we have nothing left here, let's just take our loot and be on our way., the nord called Bato said
- I agree. These halls creep me out, and you all saw what happened to Snowy. He freaked out., the breton called Idhdean reminded the group
- He was locked up down there, probably got a beating from those dwarven spirits.
- Well, I am going up to the boss now. And I will kill him!, the imperial Red Livia stated
- We will all go with you. Won't we?, Bato suggested
A roaring “YES!” echoed through the dwarven halls. But their plan was interrupted. Boss Crito called for them from the room next to theirs. As the bandit posse went to him he shushed them.

- We got company., Boss Crito whispered to them with a smile

His bandits silently decided to keep following his orders for now, there was now money in it after all, and followed him.

- Interesting architecture., Roland stated
- Sure., Nimar said
- So what exactly are we looking for? A box?
- A cube.
- Aha.

The two had walked down some ledges and reached a centre of some sort. On the one side a front-wall with round doors. On the other a small cave opening, with even more dwarven architecture. From this entrance a man emerged.

- Why hello there, travellers!, Boss Crito Greeted them
- And to you!, Roland shouted out
- What brings you to my.. Lair?
- Your lair?
- My lair. I sleep, eat and live here. Therefore, my home. And you dear gentlemen, are intruding.
Roland looked at Nimar, shook his head and nodded towards some of the dwarven doors, indicating that they should go there.
- Hey! Look, I am not an unreasonable man. A small toll and you are free to Leave without harm., Boss Crito told them
- We have no intention of leaving., Nimar stated
- We also have nothing of value. Yet., Roland said
- (sigh) Well then.. You will die here., Boss Crito said and whistled

The other five bandits appeared, out from hiding behind rocks or pillars. Two bandits stood by the ruins entrance about ten metres above them. A nord and an imperial stood next to Crito. The breton bandit was right by the end of the ladder-like ledge.

- Look, we are only here for a cube. A small box of dwarven origins. We don't want to kill you., Roland said.
- Six against two! You dare make threats!?, Boss Crito yelled and initiated the attack by leaping from his place down to Nimar and Roland.

Nimar who stood farthest away drew his bow and shot an arrow at the female imperial standing where Boss Crito once stood. The arrow hit her in the chest and she fell over dying. He quickly drew another arrow and fired it at the nord charging the two from the steep ledges on the one end of the centre area. The nord appeared only to have shirt, pants and a weapon. As the arrow hit the nord in his chest it bounced off. He was wearing a cuirass underneath his shirt.

Roland cheered at Nimar's kill, then prepared for battle by casting some movement-enhancing spells on himself. Boss Crito and a breton charged at him, Crito swung his axe but missed the mage who dodged. The breton went around Roland, now surrounded, with his dagger drawn. Roland not taking any chances lunged at Boss Crito and froze the man's hands solid, the breton behind him walked up and prepared to stab Roland. Nimar thrusted his spear into the back of this breton, the spear however stuck leaving the argonian open for attack. Boss Crito was unable to do anything and fell down on the floor crying over his hands. The nord that took an arrow to the chest had reached the two, they now cooperated Nimar backing away from the spear-stuck corpse and Roland charged the nord readying a paralysing attack. Axe chop dodged and hands to the nords chest Roland managed to paralyse him, Nimar fired an arrow now aiming for the head. A hit and now there was only two bandits able to fight.

They had tried to reach the bottom as fast as possible. But when they reached it Boss Crito laid crying on the floor with hands frozen solid and the other bandits laid dead. The mage smiled and appeared to be waiting for them, the argonian managed to pull out a spear from Bato's corpse and entered a defensive stance. Realising that they had no chance of survival, “run away” was the battle-cry.

Boss Crito had fainted from the pain, and as he fell over his left hand shattered as it touched the ground. Feeling a bit, remorse, Roland ended his life by draining his health rapidly. The fight had taken a toll on Roland's fatigue, he was sweating and breathing heavily.

- You okay?, Nimar asked
- (panting) Yes, yes I am fine. Haha! Good fight!, Roland said exhausted
- Let's look for the box.
- Yes, sure. Hey Nimar. Thanks for bringing me along. This is how I like...
Roland's words were interrupted as he got hit over the head with a club.

The assailant was a redguard who had come out from one of the dwemer doors behind them. Roland fell to the ground unconscious and the redguard raised his club to smash the breton's head in. Instead the club hit Nimar's shield, the argonian fell down from the recoil and landed on his spear breaking it. Nimar quickly got up and entered combat with the redguard. It was a short battle. Nimar dodged one attack and struck his spear, now as long as a short sword, upwards through the redguard's jaw. Blood spewed out over Nimar's hand and he decided that this spear had been used for the last time.

Roland did not stay unconscious for long, only for a minute, and awoke with Nimar sitting next to him.

- You hurt?, Nimar bluntly asked
- Yes, well.. (Roland felt the back of his head) Okay, no., Roland said and used a healing spell
- I'd like to keep searching for the cube now.
- Yes, you go ahead. I'll rest up for a minute, or two.

After rummaging around the halls and rooms of Arkngthand Nimar finally found the Dwemer Puzzle box. Right outside the room where he found it he also saw an dwarven spear. Light, solid, hmm and sharp. Perfect! Nimar gladly took it. When he returned to the centre of the cave entrance Roland was gone. A shining note laid on the floor; “I decided to look around, see you later! Either here or elsewhere ~Roland”. Nimar left for Balmora

- Perfect! Just what I was looking for. Thank you Nimar., Hasphat said to Nimar and held the puzzle box up high
- It was. No trouble., Nimar said pondering about what happened in Arkngthand
- And here are my notes on the Sixth house. All I know of Nerevarine is that the Ashlanders believe that a reborn Nerevar will unite all dunmer and drive outlanders away. As I said, speak with Sharn gra-Muzgob. She'll know more., Hasphat explained and gave Nimar a parchment with notes.
- Thank you Hasphat.
- And thank you!
Hasphat immediately started to study the puzzle box. Nimar went to the bunker beds for sleep.

The morning after, Nimar spoke with Caius.

- These notes are from Hasphat? How nice of him to write it all down. I'll take a look at them later on. Now he didn't tell you anything about the Nerevarine prophecies?, Caius asked
- Only simple facts. Dunmer waits for him, he returns and cleanses Morrowind from us., Nimar said
- Then I have new orders for you, go to Sharn gra-Muzgob as Hasphat suggested. Get her to tell you what she knows about the Nerevarine. She might have you run an errand, a crazy errand. But doable. Report back when you have acquired the information. Oh, and mention that you are one of my associates. She can be difficult with.. new people.

When Nimar met with Sharn gra-Muzgob he thanked her for saving his life. She had trouble dealing with thankful people, taking compliments in general, and dismissed the topic with haste.

- What do you want Nimar?, Sharn asked somewhat annoyed
- I wanted to ask about the Nerevarine prophecies., Nimar said
- I know nothing of it! Now leave me be!
- I'd rather not, I ask by Caius' orders.
- Oh. You are one of Caius' associates? That is a different matter. Caius and I have a very satisfactory arrangement, and I'm sure we can come to some sort of agreement, if you will complete a little errand for me.
That was, strange.
- And what would this errand be?, Nimar asked with hesitation

Sharn wanted Nimar to retrieve the skull of Llevule Andrano. It was laying in an ancestral tomb close to Pelagiad. She also kept assuring him that she was NOT a necromancer. I wonder...The rain was pouring down as Nimar left Balmora.

- I have no memory of this place.., Roland said to himself

He had walked around circles deep in the ruins of Arkngthand. I could easily teleport my way out of here.. But where's the adventure in that? Standing at a crossroads Roland had to choose right or left. Three additional bandits had crossed his way in addition to the two that ran away from him and Nimar. None of them survived the encounter and Roland had thought up an excellent poem for his adventures down Arkngthand after killing the last one.

Arkngthand, Arkngthand.
Would you still my hand?
Why do bandits cross my way
as I pass your land?
From one to another I sway
still you sing to me, my way...

Roland was not sure if this was a correct way to rhyme, or if it was good poetry. I'll work on it. Sixty-seven pieces of dwemer coins and ectoplasm extracted from the ghosts of old were Roland's treasure. Pleased with his findings he had decided to leave. Now if I could find my way out.

Nimar entered the Andrano ancestral tomb before dusk. The stench of death reached his nostrils and a feeling of disgust filled his mind. A week old corpse laid before him, a dunmer. Male. By the looks of his injury he was killed by blunt force. A weak mist filled this first room and whispers of the dead echoed through the halls. As Nimar proceeded he was met by a skeleton guardian. An easy kill, his new spear was durable and Nimar only needed to stick it through the ribs of the skeleton and twist. This broke the undead in half and rendered it more dead. Or deader. A couple of bonewalkers stood in his way but they were not of trouble to Nimar. After navigating through the tomb Nimar found the ritual site of Llevule Andrano, and there laid his skull. Markings on the scalp indicated that the skull was a special one. Nimar picked it up and put it in his satchel, this angered the old spirits and an ancestral ghost appeared. Realising that he had no chance of attacking an actual ghost with his current weaponry Nimar ran for it. The ghost managed to curse him as he ran, the curse slowed Nimar down. He would not be able to run from the ghost, Nimar had to fight it. But how? Looking around for anything that could help he saw one of the torches that lit up the tomb. Drawing an arrow and setting it on fire was taxing on Nimar's endurance due to the curse but he managed to do so. He turned around and fired the arrow towards the ghost. It was a hit, and the ghost disappeared into wherever ghost goes. It was however a wake-up call for Nimar. He needed to get a silver weapon of some sort. No point in lingering, Nimar left again for Balmora and Sharn gra-Muzgob.

---

A boat floated aimlessly north of Dagon Fel. It was a sailing-boat, the mast was however broken and no oars were present. From time to time a slaughterfish would bump into the hull thinking it was food. Dreugh kept their distance, something about the smell made them turn around. When looking into it you would see two male dunmer bodies. One was alive and the other one dead. The live one leaned his head upon a cloth sack filled with wickwheat providing a pillow-sensation. He held his hands like laying in a coffin, eyes looking right up at the clear sky. With food enough only for three days, the dunmer had to ration his portions. By sleeping and doing nothing he saved his energy. It had been five days since he and the other dunmer had left land. Four days since he killed the other one. The storm that appeared interrupted his plans radically and now he was waiting for the boat to touch land. He decided to sit up and look over the edge to see if land even was present, with some joy he saw the distant village of Dagon Fel. It was time to dispose of the corpse next to him. On the dead dunmer's index finger sat a fine ring. He decided to take it, a family ring. With the family name engraved on the ruby stone. It read "Serethi"

- Ralds Serethi. My new name.

The dunmer now known as Ralds started recognising where he was. Vvardenfell. Back home.

more more more!

More will come.. Tomorrow

More will come.. Now!

Chapter 7: Axe and Kagouti

Three male nords dressed in nothing but their underwear ran through the ashlands, two of them were unarmed but the other one wielded an axe. Neither of them had a sense of geography and they had been running all over Vvardenfell, sometimes following the roads, sometimes running in a northern direction. Although north could be south, west or east in the minds of these nords. Now, they followed a road. To their right they had the ghostgate raising up from the ground and to their left a great mountain ridge. Due to exhaustion it was time for a break. The three sat themselves down by some rocks next to the ghostgate. Hlormar with his bear-paw face tattoo was the reason for the three taking this path.

- Haha! I know this is the way! Soon we will reach Caldera, and that witch that stole my axe!, Hlormar spoke and used his arms to show the importance of his words
- I sure hope so. Our quest for revenge is soon at an end., the blonde nord with tribal face-tattoos said
- Only two more witches to kill.
- Let's not linger! Hlormar, Botrir move on!, the brown haired nord with a beard said

After resting for twenty seconds the three nords rose up and continued their journey. The brown haired Hisin Deep-Raed took point and kept a high pace. After turning around a corner there was a downslope that increased their speed. Neither of the three had good eyes, they did not notice that Fort Buckmoth was less than a kilometre away. They decided to run south instead. Suddenly, out from behind some rocks a kagouti charged at them. With surprisingly quick thinking the nords entered a formation. Hisin caught the creatures attention, Hlormar and Botrir ran up to the kagouti's sides. They grabbed it by it's tusks and managed to keep the kagouti still. Twitching and meowing it tried to get free without success, the two nords were too strong for the kagouti. Hisin raised his axe, started to walk slowly and dramatically towards them. With a roar he struck his axe deep into the kagouti's skull. Cheering and joyful man-hugs commenced. "Finally some dinner!" Hlormar stated and started gathering scathecraw to make a fire.

After having chopped up some good kagouti-steaks Hisin placed each piece on a sharpened stick and handed them out. They ate in silence. Night-sky and cliff-racer's cries coloured the ashlands, the nord's fire lit up the small valley and nearby daedra ruins. All daedric ruins were usually inhabited by worshippers or criminals of all kinds. Sometimes the odd lesser daedroth could be seen having been summoned by a mortal. The nearby ruin of Ramimilk were empty, at least on the outside.

- We could rest in there!, Botrir sharply pointed out
- Looks spacious enough, and no screams., Hlormar said giving his affirmative vote
- Right, well I'm full. Let's take a look at this.. This daedra ruin.

Hlormar pushed the kagouti corpse over the fire to put it out. Hisin once again took point, he ran up to the most outer part of the ruin-wall. Slowly and sneaky the nord peered out of his cover, getting a sense of the situation. No daedroth, no witch, all good. He waved to the others and they followed. The silence that gave the illusion of calm had them fooled, for just as the nords were about to enter Ramimilk a breton wearing brown and blue robes flew out of the ruins with an ebony staff in his hands. He screamed "Haha! Success!" and landed graciously three metres behind the nords and examined his, apparently new, staff closer. A robe only meant one thing to Hlormar, Botrir and Hisin. This was a witch,mage or wizard and that indicated trouble. The mage turned around and noticed them.

- Well.. Look at you. How.. Unique., the breton said and tried to withhold him frowning
- Stay back wizard! I shall guard this axe with my life!, Hisin threatened him
- Hmm, wizard. Now that does sound good. Imagine that, I've been here for twenty-three days and I am already wizard of the mages guild.
- Stop talking! No more swaying our minds!, Hlormar demanded
- No need to be hostile my dear nord. What brings you fine gentlemen here?
- We're on a witch-hunt.
- And that might put someone like me in your.. Cross-hairs.
- Maybe not, we are after the witch that stole my axe.
- And mine.
- Right now we need to find Caldera.
- There's a way-sign right there., the mage said and pointed towards the road-signs
All three nords squinted their eyes and tried to focus on the point to where the breton had pointed.
- Aha, I see it!, Botrir lied
- Hmm, yes. Well. Thank you, wizard!, Hisin said with a hint of gratitude in his voice
- That is no problem. I must be off now, farewell to you Nord-trio!, the mage said and levitated his way to the south

In silence the three ran towards the point to which the mage had directed them. The sign read "Ald'ruhn" They looked at each other and nodded, towards Ald'ruhn, their quest continued.

Throughout the ashlands they travelled, asking all they met about witches, battling fierce animals and resting in caves. All minds set on the witch called Caristiana whom they were to slay.

After one day of running they had finally reached the end of the aslands, the west gash region appeared in front of them. A sign pointed towards Caldera, this was good news, the witch was close. They began to follow the directions of the sign, however after forty metres south became west. But the three kept their spirits up, believing that this was indeed the right way.

The breton who had left from Ramimilk sighed, he now needed a new plan to make sure the nords were heading the correct path to Caristiana. For a whole day he had followed them, manipulating their direction and clearing paths for them. This time the mage didn't have the strength to subtly lead them on, he ripped up the sign reading "Caldera" from the ground and changed the letters. Simply spelled out "Witch" this time. The breton fortified his speed and made himself invisible.

- Stomp them! Kill them!, Hisin roared

The nords had reached a cave-rat den. Just about twenty rats had been cleaved in half and stomped to death when the three were finished with them.

- Well done all! Dinner is here!, Hisin roared once again
- I'll prepare a fire!

Rat on a stick and conversation was this nights entertainment. After coughing up his last rat Botrir noticed something new by the edge of the den. A sign, a road-sign reading "With" pointed in a direction. He jumped up and charged against the sign.

- Do you see this?! The witch is that way!, Botrir shouted and pointed

With no time to be rational or precautious, all nords rose and headed of to the place were the witch might be.

Sosia Caristiana was bound to the spot where she stood. She could try to explain it in words but it had no meaning. Killing three insane nords would not help her, but it would bring her pleasure. She had agreed to pay a fellow magicka user to steer the nords towards her. Now all she could do is was wait, wait and cook. Her cauldron was filled with animal-meat, kagouti, alit, rat and mudcrab. This would turn into Sosia's favourite stew. But it would not be good enough. Not enough scathecraw. There was no convenient way to acquire this now so the current ingredients would have to do. It had been a day since she met the breton that was to aid her, she would pay him on delivery. She was impatient and the nearby animals had learned that attacking her was a bad idea. A caravan had bypassed her earlier but she made no effort in trying to contact them, this would not happen next time as she could need supplies. A bedroll, cauldron, camp-fire and a sitting log were her belongings, this and Hlormar's axe. She had met Hlormar about a week ago, she had asked him for directions and he helped her. For reasons she would not foretell she had left him paralysed and axe-less. Now she was stuck here and Hlormar had grouped up to kill her, Fine by me and now she wanted them dead. Quickly. Her dreams would soon come true, in the distance three figures appeared.

Hlormar was overjoyed, the purple robed witch could be seen in-front of them. With no apparent strategy they all charged against her. Roaring their battle-cries.

Sosia smiled. Finally they had come, she readied a spell.

I'll cut her head off. Hisin attacked first, he raised his axe and lunged at the witch. With two more steps to reach her, Hisin fell to the ground screaming in agony. His feet were scorched with pieces of charred flesh being peeled of by the rocky ground. Laying down he threw his axe at her but missed with several metres.

I'll strangle her to death Botrir leapt over Hisin to attack Sosia, she was however ready for him and svcked the life out of him quickly. Hisin fell dead down on the ground.

Sosia panted, the last two spells were heavy on her.

Revenge!
- Revenge for all you done! Hlormar shouted and picked up his old axe.
While Sosia neutralized the other nords Hlormar had snuck up around the back of her camp and retrieved his old axe. As he screamed out Sosia turned around to face him.

She saw the nord running towards her and tried to drain his fatigue. It was enough to make him tired enough in order to miss her. Sosia jumped to the side and felt the edge of her binding curse, she had to kill him now and fast. A small fire-ball to test him, he shrugged it off and charged against her. She went all in, leapt towards him and put her hands around his neck. If they were to struggle he would win, but Sosia did not plan to strangle him. Her hands appeared as charged with electricity and gave the nord several jolts during the brief moment that she held him. This was more than enough to kill him. Sosia finished Hisin by returning his axe deep into his forehead.

- Very impressive. "Witch"., the breton from Ramimilk said.
He had just appeared from out of nowhere after Hisin died. Now the breton walked up to Sosia.
- Thank you, I believe this is yours., Sosia said and gave the breton a pouch of gold.
- Much appreciated. Can I help you with this.. This barrier?
- No, no you can't. But I thank you for the offer!
Sosia sat herself down by her stew and poured it up in a bowl.
- You hungry?, she asked
- No thank you. I must be off, I have wizard duties now.
- Oh that's right. I believe congratulations are in order!
- You're too kind Sosia. Farewell now!
- Farewell Roland!

i wanna know more about Ralds. heheh