Chapter 4: All The King’s Men

A meal and a bath at the ‘Winged Guar’ left me feeling slightly better, but no less shocked and confused. I still found it hard to believe what I’d just learned, but I couldn’t ignore what was right there in front of me. Vules’ dying words, the note, the “His Majesty” remark… they all added up to the same thing, yet it didn’t make any sense.

For the life of me, I couldn’t imagine why the King of Morrowind would try to have me killed. The only explanation I could think of was that it was some sort of ‘House Wars’ affair – he was a Hlaalu, after all. Maybe he was worried that Redoran would get too powerful with this uppity new Archmaster in charge. Though I couldn’t think why, since sod-all had changed in the six months since I’d become Archmaster.

Whatever his reasons, I thought grimly, he was going to regret it. Alone in my room, I wrote a short note to Athyn Sarethi and stamped it with the House Redoran seal. Then I went off to meet Calvus Horatius in the Plaza Brindisi Dorom.

Only Calvus wasn’t there. We’d arranged to meet in one of the grassy ‘garden’ areas at the side of the Plaza, but when I arrived, the only person there was a grizzled-looking Nord. I might have suspected him of being one of Helseth’s agents, except for the fact that he was stark naked.

“Um.” I cleared my throat, rather lost for words. “Could I ask – ”

“What are you looking at?” He was giving me a filthy look. “No, I’m not paralysed. And I’ve never even met a witch, much less been asked to escort one anywhere!”

The sense of déjà vu was overwhelming. “Er – ”

“Why am I naked?” he snapped, before I could get any further. “Because it’s too damned hot here! You people think that every time you see a naked Nord barbarian, he’s been tricked by some witch. So narrow-minded. Now leave me alone!”

He stalked off just as Calvus approached from the other direction, looking as confused as I felt. “What the…?”

“Don’t ask,” I said with a sigh. “He’s too hot, apparently. I think there must be something in the water around here.”

Calvus just shook his head. “Anyway… what are we going to do now?”

“Go to the palace, like I said. I need to teleport back to Vvardenfell and deliver a letter to someone… and then I need to… ahem.” I gritted my teeth. “Consult with King Helseth.”

I turned towards the Palace gate, but Calvus wasn’t following. “Ada… I know you’re in charge here, but are you sure you want to just march in there and confront the King? I mean, how do you know he’ll even agree to see you?”

“I think he will,” I said coldly.

“Really? You seem awfully sure about that. I don’t think the King of Morrowind is going to grant an audience to just anyone.”

I could have made the obvious retort, but I wasn’t ready to reveal my background to Calvus just yet. “Do you have any better ideas?” I asked, shrugging.

He paused for a moment, thinking it over. “Well… perhaps. I expect you’ve heard that Helseth and the Temple aren’t on good terms?”

“I remember someone mentioning it, yes.”

“There’s a man at the Temple called Fedris Hler. He’s the Chief Steward of Almalexia, and the head of Her Hands – that’s what the Goddess calls her personal guard.” Calvus glanced around to make sure no one was close enough to hear us. “There are rumours that he used to be an assassin himself, and I’ll bet he knows quite a bit about the Dark Brotherhood. If you went to him and told him the King was after you, he might be willing to help.”

I mulled it over for a few moments. “Maybe,” I said at last. “But I think I’ll try to see the King first. I don’t suppose you know who I should see at the Palace to ask for an audience with the King?”

He shrugged resignedly. “I guess his guard captain would be a good place to start. Tienius Delitian is his name. This time of day, you’ll probably find him in the throne room of the Palace.”

“OK. I’ll deliver my letter, and then we’ll head up to see Tienius.”

We set off for the Palace, where I asked the mage Effe-Tei to teleport me back to Ebonheart. In the Council chambers I found Llerar Mandas, the House Redoran representative on the Grand Council. Llerar had always been friendly to me since I rescued his granddaughter, Delyna, from Divayth Fyr and his weird ménage à cinq. I wondered if he’d heard about what had gone down in Ald’ruhn – but if he had, there was no sign of it.

“Good day to you, Archmaster,” he said cheerfully, and then his warm smile faded slightly. “I heard about the attacks. I trust there have been no further…?”

“None recently, no. In fact, that’s what I came to see you about.” I glanced around to make sure we were alone. “I’ve been poking around a bit in Mournhold, and I think I know who ordered the attacks.”

His eyes widened. “I have a letter here that I’d like you to deliver to Athyn Sarethi,” I continued. “It’s extremely important, so please hurry. I’ll come back later with some more evidence for you – I hope.”

Llerar said nothing more, but left immediately to deliver the letter. If the King’s thugs did get to me somehow or other, at least I knew justice would be done.

Back in Mournhold Palace, Calvus was waiting for me in the reception room. He led me upstairs to another large hallway with a seating area for visitors. Like the reception room downstairs, it was gorgeously furnished – there were even banks of exotic flowers in planters along the wall, making it look like a kind of indoor garden. Whatever else I might think of Helseth, I had to admit that his taste in décor was impeccable.

Calvus saw the wistful expression on my face, and grinned. “This is more your sort of thing, eh, Nibenese princess?”

I was determined not to let him get a rise out of me this time. “I know it must seem weird to you, Calvus. Having grown up in a mud hut and everything.”

“Snob,” he said cheerfully.

“Hick.”

Some of the guards were starting to look at us a little strangely. I turned away with an embarrassed cough, and followed Calvus towards the throne room.

The large, rectangular chamber was hung on all sides with Imperial dragon banners, and other banners showing the head of a wolf – presumably Helseth’s family crest. How appropriate, I thought. The throne itself was empty – well, that was no surprise – but a couple of men in crimson Royal Guard armour stood on either side. One was a Redguard, the other an Imperial.

After a moment’s thought I approached the Imperial, Calvus following close behind. He looked me over slowly and deliberately, but said nothing.

“Excuse me,” I said stiffly. “Might you be Tienius Delitian, by any chance?”

He nodded. “I’m the captain of King Helseth’s Royal Guards. Is this an official matter?”

“Of sorts, yes. My name is Ada Ventura.” Tienius’ eyes widened ever so slightly; he obviously recognised the name. (Well, I should bloody hope so – what was the point of being Nerevarine if Morrowind’s movers and shakers hadn’t even heard of me?) “I’m here to seek an audience with His Majesty the King,” I went on.

I could almost feel Calvus cringe, but Delitian just looked mildly amused. “Ada Ventura. Yes, I know the name.” His tone was still carefully neutral. “May I ask why you wish to see the King?”

“I think it might be best if we discussed this in private,” I said.

He frowned. “First tell me your business. Then I will decide if we have anything to discuss.”

“Fine, have it your way.” I pulled the Dark Brotherhood contract out of my pocket, unfolded it and waved it in front of Delitian’s face. “This mean anything to you?”

For the first time, Tienius’ air of calm self-satisfaction wavered a little. He drew a long breath, and pressed his lips together for several seconds before speaking. “I see,” he said at last. “On second thoughts, perhaps this would be best dealt with in private. If you’d care to follow me?”

He turned away abruptly and began to walk towards the back of the hall. I followed behind with Calvus, who was looking pretty confused at this point – not that I could blame the poor guy. I took the opportunity to quietly cast a few protective enchantments while Delitian’s back was turned. You couldn’t be too careful, after all.

Delitian led us into a small side-room and shut the door behind us. “I take it you wish to know who sent the assassins to kill you in your sleep,” he said, before I had the chance to speak. “A reasonable desire. I won’t deny my knowledge of it, but I believe it is more important now to speak about an official matter.”

Oh, for [censored]’s sake. Screw polite diplomacy, I thought.

“I don’t agree,” I said bluntly. “I think it’s really really important right now to talk about the fact that the King of Morrowind is trying to have me killed. Or are you going to deny that he gave the order?”

He shook his head. “No. Of course, I’ll deny it publicly. But don’t take it personally.”

“Of course not,” I said, baring my teeth in a smile. “Heaven forbid I should take it personally when someone hires a bunch of Sithis-worshipping lunatics to murder me in my sleep. I assume the King just gets these ‘urges’ now and again?”

Again, Tienius shook his head. “I can understand your anger, but King Helseth does have his reasons. You appeared to present… a threat, shall we say.”

“A threat?” In the astonishment of the moment I forgot to be sarcastic. “He must be off his rocker. Until yesterday morning I’d never been within a hundred miles of the guy.”

“Perhaps not, but there were other factors which raised the King’s suspicions. Certain… recent events, for example.”

My jaw dropped. He had to be joking, right? The King had somehow got the idea that this whole Nerevarine business was me manoeuvring for the throne?

“Oh dear gods. You cannot be serious.” I shook my head slowly, trying to wrap my head around the sheer lunacy of it. “Helseth thinks I want to be Queen of Morrowind? I’ve enough trouble just keeping House Redoran in order.”

“Perhaps mistakes were made,” he said calmly. “But you can prove they were mistakes, if you can prove your loyalty to King Helseth. So. Are you interested in helping me with my problem?”

For a moment I was literally speechless. ‘Mistakes were made’? MISTAKES WERE MADE? I’d just confronted this guy with the fact that the King had tried to murder me, and he was asking me to prove my loyalty?

A sudden white-hot rage tore through me. It was as if months of frustration and disappointment had finally come to a head. Had I battled ash vampires, killed a God, clawed my way up through the ranks of House Redoran, to be treated like I was still Ada No-Name just off the boat from Cyrodiil? Would Nerevar himself – or Bolvyn Venim for that matter – have put up with this crap?

No. No, they wouldn’t. In fact, I was betting that if either of them were in my place, Tienius Delitian would be scraping his smug, arrogant face off the floor right now. I’d had it with this guy.

I took a step towards him. “Do you have any idea who I am?” I asked, in a voice so pregnant with menace that even Tienius looked taken aback.

“Apparently not,” I said, before he could recover. “Either that or you’re too bloody stupid to understand what it means, so let me spell it out to you: I am NOT your [censored] errand-girl. I’m the Nerevarine – you know, the one who killed Dagoth Ur? – and the head of House Redoran. Which makes Helseth’s attempt to murder me an act of war. Do you understand me?”

Tienius said nothing. The brief flicker of surprise had vanished from his face, leaving it expressionless. Calvus, for his part, was gazing from one to the other of us in utter bewilderment.

“I’ve killed the King’s Dark Brotherhood lackeys,” I went on, “and I’ve already told the Redorans who’s responsible. If anything happens to me here in Mournhold – mysterious illnesses, ‘accidents’, you name it – they’ll declare war. The Temple will find out who killed their Living Saint, and they’ll declare war. And I’m sure the Morag Tong will be very interested to know about his ‘contract in perpetuity’ with those filthy Westerners.” I took another step towards him, my face only inches from his. “If the King wants to turn me into an enemy, that’s his problem. Have I made myself QUITE CLEAR?”

“Abundantly.” That irritating half-smile was back on his lips. [censored] him, I thought. Let’s see if he was still smirking when the Redoran army came marching over the hill.

I turned towards the door, but Delitian hadn’t finished. “Perhaps we have been approaching this the wrong way,” he went on, in that infuriatingly calm tone of voice. “I’m sure King Helseth would rather have you as a friend than an enemy. And the King is known for rewarding his friends.”

“Is he.” Like I gave a [censored].

“Indeed he is. And I’m sure he’d be willing to reward you suitably, should you choose to help me with the little matter I mentioned earlier.”

I swung round to face him. “No, I won’t. What the hell am I, a kitchen-maid? Tell the King he can find someone else to run his errands.”

“Then we’ve nothing more to discuss,” he said, shrugging. “If you change your mind, I’ll be here.”

Yeah, right. I wasn’t even going to waste time answering that one. I flung open the door, beckoned Calvus through after me, and slammed it shut with a force that made the palace walls tremble.

Poor Calvus, for his part, looked like he’d been whacked over the head with the business end of a warhammer. “Excuse me,” he said weakly, as soon as we reached the reception area. “I think I need some time to digest all this.”

“Take all the time you like,” I said shortly. “I have to go back to Ebonheart again anyway.”

I sat down on a bench to write some more instructions to Athyn, then carefully folded them up and sealed them along with Helseth’s contract. Effe-Tei transported me back to Ebonheart, where I handed the second package over to Llerar Mandas. I could tell he was itching to see what was in it, but he didn’t ask – maybe the expression on my face warned him off.

By the time I got back to Mournhold my boiling rage had simmered down a bit, but that didn’t mean I was any less angry with Helseth and his lackeys. If anything, I was getting more furious the more I thought about it. Not only had they tried to kill me for no reason – putting my friends’ and servants’ lives at risk as well, I might add – but they also had the breathtaking nerve to demand favours from me, as if I ought to be grateful for the King’s attention. Just how stupid and arrogant could this guy possibly be?

Mistakes were made, indeed. Oh yes, he’d made a mistake all right. By the time I got out of Mournhold, King Hlaalu Helseth was going to know exactly how big a mistake he’d made by trying to have me killed.

I was still clenching my fists as I walked out into the courtyard. Calvus was waiting for me there; the colour had come back into his face, but he still looked slightly stunned. “You might have told me you were the Nerevarine!” he hissed, as soon as we were out of hearing.

I shrugged. “It didn’t come up. Anyway, what difference would it have made?”

“I – ” He paused. “Well, I’d have offered to buy you a drink, for a start!”

“You could still do that,” I pointed out. “Right now, I think both of us probably need it.”

We bought drinks at the Winged Guar, and took them into my room where we could talk privately. Calvus took a long draught of ale, and mopped his brow. “So… you really are the Nerevarine?” He seemed to be having some trouble grasping this.

“The one and only,” I said.

“But… wow.” He shook his head. “And the head of Great House Redoran?”

“That too.”

“How the heck did you manage that?”

“I can tell you if you’re prepared to sit here all afternoon,” I told him.

“No, I’ll take your word for it. Those scars… and I suppose I should have guessed you were someone important, what with the King himself sending contract killers after you.” A wry smile spread over Calvus’ face. “Gods. I really should have asked you for a bigger fee, shouldn’t I?”

“That’s fine. Ask away.” I sighed. “I really should have offered you more to start with. In fact, if you want to pull out of the contract, I won’t hold it against you. I’d no idea we’d be going up against the Royal Family when I asked you to guard me.”

But Calvus shook his head. “No. We made a deal, and I’ll stick to it. But it’s kind of you to make the offer.” He hesitated. “So… pardon me for asking, but does the Redoran boyfriend really exist?”

“He does, yes. But like I said, things aren’t too good right now.” I swallowed hard. The memory of Varvur’s shocked, angry face always brought a lump to my throat, but I’d be damned if I’d let myself get teary-eyed in front of Calvus.

“But if you’re the head of the House, then…?”

“I’d prefer not to talk about it.”

He nodded understandingly, and we sipped our drinks in silence. “So what now?” he asked eventually. “Do I just keep guarding you and hope that His Majesty took the hint?”

“For the moment, yes. But I’m not going to let him get away with this.” I thought for a minute, an idea slowly forming in my mind. “What was the name of that Temple guy you mentioned? The assassin?”

“Fedris Hler. Are you thinking of…?” An evil smile was spreading over my face. “Stendaar help us. I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into, Ada.”

“Well, I’m not going to rush into anything,” I said. “I’ll just… talk to him. Explain about the Brotherhood, and find out if there’s anything he might like me to do for the Temple. I am technically one of their Saints, after all…”

“Really? Standards must be slipping.” I scowled at him, fighting the urge to stick out my tongue. “OK, suit yourself. Would you mind if I took a nap now, while you go to the Temple? I’ll need to get some rest if I’m going to be guarding you tonight.”

I agreed that this was a good plan, so Calvus settled down to sleep while I prepared to go to the Temple. He looked rather sweet, lying there curled up on the bed without his armour. He was a good man, I thought – and that made me suddenly remember Marena Gilnith.

Might Marena be interested in Calvus? She hadn’t said whether she’d be willing to date non-Dunmer. I decided to play it safe and assume she wasn’t – I knew all too much about the kind of problems involved in human-Elf relationships. I’d just have to keep looking.

I didn’t want anyone to see me going to and from the Temple, so I set a Mark and used my Amulet of Shadows before casting Almsivi Intervention. The Mournhold Temple was a beautiful building, vaguely triangle-shaped with elegant pointed spires at each corner. The walls were made of marble, and the roof of some white shell-like material that shimmered slightly in the sunlight. The grounds were attractive as well, with tidy, well-kept lawns that reminded me of the Imperial Palace grounds – no expense spared there, I bet.

Once inside the Temple I slipped through a side-door and waited for the Chameleon spell to wear off, then asked the first person I met – an elderly, white-haired Dunmer woman – where I could find Fedris Hler. She directed me to a small office along one of the corridors, and sternly ordered me to make sure I kept the place clean. Hler wasn’t in the office at that point, so I had to wait.

A few minutes later, a middle-aged Dunmer entered the room. He was dressed in a priest’s robe, but wore glass pauldrons on each shoulder, like a pair of tiny green wings. His face was horribly scarred, as if someone had swiped a sword right across his left eye. The moment he saw me he looked up sharply, his one good eye boring into me.

“Ah,” he said after a moment. “So you’re the one who has recently arrived in Mournhold from Vvardenfell? I was told of your arrival. I understand you had some problems with the Dark Brotherhood.”

Bloody hell, news travelled fast in this place. Drat that Meryn Othralas and his stupid Players. “If you mean the King sent them to kill me, then yes, I do,” I said, deciding to cut to the chase.

Hler – assuming this was Hler – raised his eyebrows a little. “An interesting group... and usually rather effective. I’m surprised you’re still alive.” He shook his head. “Perhaps you have potential… or they sent incompetents.”

Potential? Gods, this guy was almost as bad as Delitian. “Or maybe I was a bit too competent,” I said, swallowing my annoyance. “Fedris Hler, I take it?”

“I am. So you believe the King was behind the attacks?”

“I don’t just ‘believe’ it,” I said. “I have cast-iron proof. I found the contract, and Helseth’s guard captain outright admitted it – and then he tried to blackmail me into running errands for him in return for stopping the attacks. I told him to get stuffed.”

“Hmph. A bold move, if not exactly subtle.” Hler stroked his chin for a moment. “What do you want of me?” he asked suddenly.

I shrugged casually. “Just wondering if there was anything I could do to serve the Temple while I’m in Mournhold.”

Hler’s brows shot up, but he nodded, a thoughtful look on his face. I suspected he might be a little quicker on the uptake than Tienius.

“I’ll be honest with you,” he said at last. “Helseth is a foul man, unworthy to sit on a throne. Still, he holds right of succession. The Lady must keep an ever-watchful eye on this King, though, lest he do something that would be detrimental to the Temple, our fair city, or perhaps all of Morrowind.”

“What sort of thing?”

“Currently, there are concerns about some new recruits that Helseth seems to be training.”

“Recruits? You mean like an army?”

He nodded. “Something of that kind. A standing army is nothing new in the city, though it is largely unnecessary. Mournhold is protected by her walls from the outside, and by our Lady Almalexia from within – none would dare mount an attack here. But we believe that Helseth is raising quite a different sort of army... a goblin army.

I nearly fell out of my seat. “Goblins?! Good gods, are you serious?”

“Quite serious.” He screwed up his face in disgust. “Foul, vicious creatures. No wonder Helseth has chosen them to be his foot-soldiers.”

“But… but why?” I’d fought goblins before, and Hler was absolutely right: they were the nastiest, most vicious little creatures imaginable. I’d never known anyone who’d even managed to speak to one, let alone train them. “Why would he even want an army of goblins? They’re just as likely to attack him as anyone else!”

“I have no idea,” he said. “But I know that the goblins are being trained nearby, though not where, exactly. Ask around the city about goblins – someone will know. I wish for you to find the location of goblin training area, and kill the warchiefs – there should be two. You might rid the city of their Altmer trainers, as well.”

Altmer trainers? Well, that might explain things a bit. They were probably using some kind of Illusion or Conjuration spells to keep the things under control. I didn’t want to think what might happen if the creatures managed to break free, and got loose into the city.

“Complete this task, and the Lady will be pleased,” Hler told me, as I wrote down his instructions in my journal. As I stood up to leave, he suddenly held up a hand. “One moment. Did you say that Tienius Delitian also asked you to perform a task for him?”

“Yes, but I refused – ”

“Yes, yes, I know. Let me think for a minute.” He paused. “I think you should go back to him, and tell him you have changed your mind.”

“What? But – ” I broke off as I realised what he meant. “You’re saying you want me to be a double agent,” I finished, rather more quietly.

“Well, it would certainly help to divert any suspicion that might fall on you. As well as helping our Lady to keep a closer eye on King Helseth.”

I didn’t answer. He had a point, I had to admit that, but the absolute last thing I wanted to do was go back and grovel to Tienius. I’d look like a complete idiot – if he even believed me. Surely even a guy as arrogant as Delitian would have to be suspicious of my sudden change of heart?

Then again, if he was dumb enough to believe I’d work for him in the first place, maybe he was dumb enough to fall for a trick like this. I sighed. Gods, I hated deceit and spying and political intrigue. I’d hated it back when I was working for Caius Cosades, and I hated it now.

“I’ll think about it,” I said eventually. I certainly wasn’t going to promise anything – who knew what kind of ghastly things Delitian might ask me to do?

“Good.” He smiled thinly. “Few are worthy to serve our Lady Almalexia. But if you can win her favour, the rewards are great.”

As I left his office, looking for somewhere private to cast my Recall spell, it struck me that Almalexia herself must be somewhere here in the Temple. Would I end up getting an audience with her, as I had with Vivec? I had to admit, I was a little curious to see what she was like – even if she had killed her husband Nerevar. I always thought it was a bit unfair that the Imperial goddesses all got boring girly spheres like ‘love’ and ‘nature’; a warrior goddess, who had fought and defeated the Daedric Prince of Destruction, sounded a bit more interesting.

As for Helseth, I was quickly coming to the conclusion that he must be completely insane. First he took it into his head that I, of all people, was trying to usurp his throne; now it seemed that he was trying to create his own private army of goblins. Goblins, I ask you. The guy must have more screws loose than a rusty Dwemer centurion.

Would a guy as paranoid as that be willing to trust me? I doubted it. Did Fedris Hler trust me, for that matter? For all he knew, I might actually be Helseth’s double agent, come to keep an eye on him.

I heaved a wistful sigh as I thought back to Ald’ruhn and the other Redoran Councillors. No matter how much they might frustrate me at times, at least I didn’t have to play these kinds of games with them. I didn’t have to be constantly second-guessing their motives, watching over my shoulder in case one of them tried to stab me in the back.

Now that I’d had a chance to cool down a bit, I found myself strongly hoping Helseth didn’t do anything to make me carry out my threat. I could only imagine the expression on the Council’s faces when I told them I’d just declared war on House Hlaalu.

Another excellent chapter!

The confrontation with Tienius reminded of a 'Far Side' cartoon - a bunch of generals sitting around a table, with one of them saying "What if we declared a war and everyone came?"

Awesome chapter... Good of you to reject Helseth, he deserves to have his ego thrown in the mud.

Standards are most definitely slipping.

That chapter raised my blood pressure! And not just because of the dynamics with Calvus. I love the way you report dead pan on the story, but somehow manage to infuse it with meaning that I and probably many others missed.

I hope you recover from the cold soon. Unless this latest chapter is a result of the cold.

Great chapter as usual!

*Checks calendar* Wow... 2 months. Oops. :blush2:


Chapter 5: Both Sides Now

If I’d hoped that Calvus would be jumping for joy when I told him the new plan, I’d have been disappointed. I gave him a brief run-down of what Hler had said when he woke up later that evening, and watched the colour slowly drain from his face. “Trying to play both sides, are you?” He shook his head. “That’s a very dangerous game, Ada.”

“I know,” I said with a sigh. “Like I said, it was Hler’s idea, not mine. Anyway, I haven’t made my mind up yet – I’ll see what Delitian has to say first.”

“Now?” He rubbed his bleary eyes.

“No, tomorrow. I’ve had enough of that moron for one day.”

“Okay.” He swung his legs off the bed and stood up. “Shall we eat?”

As we ate dinner on the terrace, I spotted a sheet of paper lying on the ground near our table. It was another copy of that newssheet I’d seen in the marketplace, with the ‘little list’ article on the front page. “Did you see that article?” I asked Calvus. “About Helseth poisoning people in High Rock?”

He nodded. “Oh yes, it’s all around Mournhold. Before today I wasn’t sure what to think about it, but now…”

I went to bed straight after dinner, while Calvus settled down to keep watch. I wanted to get up as early as possible, and give him another chance to sleep while I went to see Delitian. There wasn’t any need to have him with me this time, I thought – surely even Helseth wouldn’t be stupid enough to have me attacked in broad daylight in his own palace. Though you could never be quite sure with that guy.

The next day, after a quick breakfast, I walked over to the Palace. Tienius wasn’t in the throne room when I arrived, and I had to wait nearly three-quarters of an hour for him to finally turn up. The minute he saw me, his lips twisted into a smug, contemptuous smile that plainly said, “I knew you’d be back.” If I really had been planning to apologise, that alone would have been enough to make me walk straight back out of there.

“Captain Delitian.” I forced myself to return his smile. Remember, you don’t have to mean it: you’re just doing this to help the Temple. “I’ve come to apologise for the way I spoke to you yesterday. I was very angry, and I think I had a right to be, but now I’ve calmed down I’m… able to see things from the King’s point of view.” I was going to have to wash my mouth out with soap after this.

“Really? I’m glad to hear it.” His tone was polite, but he didn’t bother to hide the look of triumph in his eyes. “I don’t suppose you’ve given any thought to that other little matter I mentioned yesterday?”

“I’ve thought about it, yes.” I narrowed my eyes. “You say Helseth is known for rewarding his friends?”

“Most certainly he is. Are you saying you would be willing to help?”

I hesitated. “What exactly is it that he wants me to do?”

“Well, the first thing is a simple matter.” He lowered his voice. “There are rumours among the people - rumours that King Athyn Llethan did not die a natural death.”

“And did he?”

Tienius frowned. “That’s a silly question. I don’t like silly questions.”

“Oh well then,” I said with a shrug, turning back towards the door.

Behind me, Tienius let out an exasperated sigh. “There is absolutely no evidence to suggest that Athyn Llethan died anything but a natural death. I assure you. Absolutely no evidence.”

“I didn’t ask whether there was any evidence. I asked whether he did or not.” Delitian was silent. “Given what happened yesterday, sera, can you blame me for being just a little bit suspicious?”

Tienius ground his teeth. I was starting to enjoy this. “I take your point,” he said, after another long silence. “King Helseth is a skilled… alchemist, and student of bodily processes. But it won’t do to have people referring to our sovereign as a common poisoner, will it?”

“So what do you want me to do?” I asked, deciding not to push him any further.

“It’s quite simple: speak to the people about King Llethan’s death. You are not known to them as my representative, and they may be more candid with you. Let me know if you find the source of these rumours.”

I blinked. “But it’s that newssheet, surely?”

“Newssheet?” he said, frowning.

Holy crap, he couldn’t be serious. “The one that’s all over Godsreach and the Bazaar? The… Common Language, or something? Accusing the King of all those poisonings back in Wayrest?”

Tienius was looking at me oddly. “You’re saying,” he said slowly, “that a broadside sheet circulating around Mournhold is accusing King Helseth of being a poisoner? And that is why people think maybe he poisoned Athyn Llethan?”

Oh, come on, I thought. Come on!

How could the King possibly not know about this? How could he be the one person in Mournhold who hadn’t managed to see a copy of that newssheet – the one I’d found lying around a market stall roughly ten minutes after arriving in the city? Okay, so he probably didn’t get it delivered along with his breakfast, but didn’t he have a spy network or something? Oh, right – his spies were probably all hundreds of miles away, chasing imaginary plots against the throne. What a pillock!

I nodded dumbly, and Delitian drew a deep breath. “Very interesting, he said at last. I’d like to see a copy of this newssheet, if you can bring me one.”

It had been a dry night, and the copy of The Common Tongue was still floating around the Winged Guar’s terrace – dirty and crumpled, but still readable. Ten minutes later I was presenting it to Captain Delitian, still shaking my head in disbelief at the sheer incompetence of Helseth’s intelligence network. If all his tasks for me were like this, I was going to have a much easier time than I’d thought.

Tienius read the article through carefully before crumpling the paper in his hand. “Thank you for bringing me this,” he said. “I believe it is indeed the source of the rumours. I see no source or evidence for its speculation – just vague falsehoods. Well, I’ll mention your loyal services and exceptional qualities to King Helseth… and I think we might find you further employment.”

“What kind?” I asked, trying not to giggle at the ‘exceptional qualities’ remark. Apparently I was the only person in the palace capable of walking to the market and picking up a newspaper.

“For example, we lack sources of information in Almalexia’s Temple. Could you help me find a Temple informant?”

I could hardly believe it – an excuse to go straight back to the Temple, without being suspected? He’d walked right into my hands. It seemed almost too good to be true.

“I could try,” I said eventually.

“Good,” he said, with a brisk nod. “There are rumours of discontent in the Temple. You are the Nerevarine; no doubt you can convince them to trust you. Look for someone discontented, listen sympathetically, and find out whether the Temple is willing to accept King Helseth – or whether they plan to act against him.”

As I left the palace, I couldn’t help thinking that this was all just a bit too easy. Surely Delitian and Helseth couldn’t be quite so stupid as to trust me right off the bat? Would they suspect that there was more to my sudden ‘change of heart’ than met the eye? Things were going well so far, but I couldn’t afford to let my guard down.

A Dunmer priestess approached me as I was walking up the steps to the Temple. “Hello, my child,” she said with a smile. “Our wealth dies with us, but our good deeds outlive us all. Would you care to make a donation to the Temple, and receive the blessings of the Lady of Mercy?”

I was in a good mood, and hey, I needed all the blessings I could get. “Okay,” I said, handing over five gold pieces. “What’s the money for, anyway?”

“Almalexia watches over all Her children – the sick, the needy, the poor.” I could practically hear the capital letter on ‘Her’. “Well... not actually in person. She used to... but She’s made no public appearance for years, so the Temple takes care of Her children for Her. That’s what the money goes for, child.”

“Is that because of Dagoth Ur and the Ghostfence?”

The priestess nodded. “It’s hard for all of us. She’s had to change – to toughen Herself and Her followers.” She paused. “It’s true that sometimes dissenters disappear when they question Her doctrines… and the Hands of Almalexia are more like inquisitors than knights of loving mercy... and Mournhold doesn’t feel much like the City of Love any more. But hard times demand hard gods.”

The sad look in her eyes told me that she wasn’t truly convinced of this, whatever she might say to outsiders. Maybe it wouldn’t be as hard as I thought to find a dissenter within the Temple. Still, I wanted to talk to Fedris Hler before I took any action.

When I found Hler and told him about Delitian’s request, his eyes lit up with malicious glee. “Galsa Andrano,” he said after a moment’s thought. “She’s young and na?ve, and has a loose tongue. Of course, she knows nothing of real importance – but no doubt she’ll give you plenty of nonsensical tales to carry to Helseth. You can find her in the Infirmary.”

I was about to leave, when I thought of something else. “May I ask you something, Ser Hler? Do you believe that Helseth murdered the previous King?”

Hler snorted. “Who can doubt that Helseth is responsible for Athyn Llethan’s death? Though out of fear, few will speak openly, I think you’ll find most Dunmer in Mournhold are convinced that Llethan was killed to make way for the Helseth. Of course, I doubt that it could be proven – Helseth is too clever for that. But no one can doubt the truth of the matter.”

I sighed. Although I knew almost nothing about the late King Llethan, I found myself sympathising with him purely because he wasn’t Helseth – oh, and also because his name reminded me of Athyn Sarethi. What had Athyn thought when he’d read my notes, I wondered? Was he still angry with me… and more to the point, was Varvur?

As luck would have it, Galsa Andrano was alone when I found her in the Infirmary. I gave myself a minor wound by cutting my arm with my sword, and pretended I’d run out of healing potions. I didn’t have to pay for treatment – as soon as Galsa realised who I was, she got so excited that I half expected her to pay me for the privilege.

“The Nerevarine!” she breathed. “I can’t believe it! Mehra Milo has told me all about you. I never would have expected to see you here in Mournhold.”

She was so sweet and friendly that I felt terrible about using her like this. Gods, I hated spying. I’d hated it back when I was working for Caius Cosades, and I hated it now. But the sheer rage I felt whenever I thought about Helseth was enough to drown out any doubts I might be having.

As Hler had predicted, it wasn’t difficult to get information out of Galsa. As she cleaned my wound, I mentioned what the priestess outside the Temple had said to me, and she nodded sadly. “I am a faithful believer,” she told me, “but Almalexia makes me uneasy. For the last 50 years, the Tribunal stopped walking among us, stopped listening and speaking with us. This worried me, and made me sad… but since Almalexia has lately come among us again, I feel more worry, not less. Her face glows brightly with hope and power, but her words seem dark and bitter.”

I nodded and made understanding noises, while she went on speaking. “Almalexia’s homilies are full of compassion, understanding, wisdom and acceptance. But now her sermons seem more intent on destroying the wicked and rewarding the faithful – the unquestioning, obedient faithful. Yes, these are difficult times... but the god I once loved now frightens me.”

“What about this new King?” I asked. “Have you heard all the rumours about how he poisoned the old one?”

She hesitated. “I am not sure… no, what am I thinking? Of course I can trust you.” I felt a pang of guilt, but it was too late to turn back. “The rumours are true. Helseth has murdered King Llethan and stolen his crown.”

“You’re sure of this?”

Galsa nodded vigorously. “It does not matter that King Llethan was a fool – he was our fool. So long as the puppet king was a joke, we all could laugh and ignore him. Helseth is not a fool, and no one is laughing. If Helseth seeks in earnest to be king, then Almalexia and the Temple are sworn in earnest to destroy him.”

“Wow.” I raised my eyebrows. “Isn’t that a bit dangerous? I mean, if he really is a murderer…”

“We do not fear him.” She swallowed. “Forgive me… I fear I have said too much already. One never knows who might be listening.”

I let her finish treating my wound, realising I wasn’t likely to get anything more out of her for now. “I was just thinking over what you said about Almalexia,” I said, as I got up to leave. “You know, I’ve met with Lord Vivec a couple of times. Maybe I could do something to help?”

“You think you could…?” Her eyes lit up. “Yes, perhaps. Come here another time, and we will talk. I feel guilty, and disloyal, but in my heart, I know something is not right. It helps a little to be able to speak of it with you.”

Talk about feeling ‘guilty and disloyal’, I thought miserably, as I left the Temple. I only hoped that Hler was right, and she hadn’t told me anything that would really be of use to Helseth. Maybe I really would go and speak to Vivec about Almalexia – it seemed the least I could do, in the circumstances.

Before going back to the Palace, I finally remembered to stop by a magic shop to get some more potions. As soon as I stepped out of the shop, there was a sudden puff of smoke and a robed man appeared right in front of me.

“Greetings, fair citizens of Mournhold!” he boomed. “I am the great, renowned, respected, and feared wizard, Ovis Velas! In the coming weeks you shall see more and more of me, as I bring this city to its knees – but for the moment, allow me to demonstrate my power on one of your hapless countrymen. You there!”

I blinked. He was pointing straight at me. “What?”

“Yes, you, you ugly Imperial!” he snarled. “Prepare yourself to feel my wrath!”

I’d already drawn my sword, but before I got close enough to use it, he cast a nasty Shock spell at me. It didn’t do much harm, what with all the magical protections I habitually wore, but it bloody hurt.

All the tensions of the past few days exploded in a near-hysterical wave of rage. Lunging at Velas, I drove my blade straight through his neck, very effectively cutting off his attempts to cast another spell. As he crumpled to the floor in a fountain of blood, I whipped round to face a group of stunned-looking onlookers.

“Is there ANYONE in this city who isn’t trying to kill me?” I roared, so loudly that several people winced and cringed away from me. “Well? Anyone else want to have a go?” I turned to one of the hapless onlookers, who backed away hastily. “No? How about you then?”

The second onlooker raised his hands in a defensive gesture, shaking his head violently. “No, sera!” he stammered. “I heard the rumours about this wizard. I think he was just trying to make a display of his power. He frowned. “Though… with all the rumours of how powerful and evil he was, I thought that he would be tougher than he appeared.”

“He said his name was Velas, right?” one of the others chimed in. “There’s a Velas manor in Godsreach, I think.”

Still breathing heavily, I knelt down beside the wizard’s body and searched through the pockets of his robe. There was nothing in them but a small house key. Right, I thought: time to pay a visit to Velas Manor. But first, I needed backup.

Ten minutes later I was back in my room back at the Winged Guar, shaking Calvus awake. “Time to get up, shirker,” I snapped.

“Ada?” He looked up at me sleepily, rubbing his eyes. “Why are you covered in blood?”

I sighed. “Three guesses. Yet another idiot just tried to kill me.”

“Another? What, one of Helseth’s men?”

“I don’t think so. He said something about being a renowned wizard and making a display of his powers.”

“Oh.” He sat up, yawning. “Well, if he’s dead, what’s the problem?”

I hesitated. “I’m not sure, but there’s something fishy about this. People said the guy had a manor in Godsreach. I want to check it out.”

“Okay, if you say so.” Calvus threw off the covers and got to his feet. “What about the goblin-hunting?”

“Change of plan,” I said grimly. “First we deal with this lunatic, then we go after the goblins.” I paused, glancing down at my bloodstained tunic. “No, wait. First I change my clothes, then we deal with this lunatic, then we go after the goblins.”

A short while later we made our way through the streets of Godsreach, pausing occasionally to ask the way to Velas Manor. It took us a while to find it, as most people didn’t seem to have heard of the Velas guy. As we approached the door I drew my sword and cast some protective enchantments, then took off my Amulet of Shadows and handed it to Calvus.

“Here, wear this,” I told him. “It’s got a Chameleon enchantment. If there’s anyone inside the manor, get behind them, and be ready.”

As luck would have it, there was someone waiting for me right inside the door – a man wearing a fancy-looking enchanted wizard’s robe. He looked a little bit like the wizard in the Great Bazaar, only a little older and a lot less swivelly-eyed.

“’Scuse me for barging in like this,” I said, with heavy irony. “I don’t suppose you’d happen to know an Ovis Velas?”

He smiled thinly. “Ah yes. Salutations… Ada Ventura, is it?” I nodded. “So nice of you to join me in my humble abode. I was all prepared to offer you a nice drink or a bite to eat before we got down to business, but you are late in coming and I don't appreciate being kept waiting, so business it shall be.”

“Business?”

His smile tightened. “I can sense you’ve already made the acquaintance of my unfortunate brother.”

“You mean the guy who just tried to kill me, I take it.” He inclined his head. “Then perhaps you would be the great Velas wizard people are talking about?”

“Yes, Ovis always did like to take credit for my exploits,” he said with a shrug. “Too bad that this time, in trying to become my doppelganger, it would appear he went too far. I understand your position, Ada – you have to defend yourself. But I also must ask you to understand mine – I have to avenge my brother.”

My heart sank. The last thing I needed was another crazed wizard trying to kill me, and this time one that was actually competent. But it was too late to back out now.

“Yes, well,” I said wearily. “Before we start the revenge, I guess I should make the standard disclaimer. I take it you’re aware that I’m the Nerevarine? Responsible for the deaths of various crime kingpins, Telvanni wizards and god-like entities?”

“I am.”

Some people never learn, I guess. “Well, it’s your funeral,” I said. “So what’s it to be, then?”

“A duel is called for,” he said calmly, “and there is no time like the present. Prepare yourself, Ada Ventura. Thy doom is imminent, and I have other matters to attend to.”

Before I had time to do anything – even breathe – there was a shimmer in the air around me, and suddenly the room was filled with Daedra. Two Golden Saints, one on each side of me – and behind me, casting an ominous shadow over half the room, the massive bulk of an Ogrim Titan. It was roughly twice the size of a normal Ogrim, making it well over twice my height and about six times as wide.

Sheer terror focussed my mind into sharp clarity. Velas No. 2’s next spell whizzed over my head as I dived to the floor, taking the only possible way out – through the Ogrim’s legs. Before the huge but slow-witted beast could work out what had happened, I was on my feet again and hacking frantically at its back with my glass frostsword.

The Golden Saints were closing in on me and I dodged aside, trying to use the Ogrim’s bulk to protect myself against them. Velas let out a yelp, and from the corner of my eye I saw him struggling with the nearly-invisible Calvus. I knew my best chance was to kill Velas as quickly as possible, sending his Daedric summons back to Oblivion, but I couldn’t get close enough to help him.

I continued to duck and dodge, getting a hit in every now and again, but mostly just trying to avoid being hit myself. Even I couldn’t fight three powerful Daedra at once for any substantial length of time. I couldn’t see Calvus, but from the sound of it he was trying to throttle the struggling wizard. “Use your sword, idiot!” I wanted to scream.

Just as I was getting worried that my glass blade was going to shatter, I heard the thump of Velas’ body hitting the floor, followed by the welcome sound of his summoned creatures disappearing into Oblivion. Calvus was standing over Velas, a wide grin spreading over his face. “So much for your god-killing feats, my lady,” he panted. “If I hadn’t been here, you’d have been done for.”

I rolled my eyes at him. “How exactly do you think I killed Dagoth Ur, Calvus? By taking him one-on-one in a fair fight?”

“Point.” He bent over Velas’ body. “Damn, this guy has some good stuff on him. A glass jinkblade! Good thing he didn’t get to use that.”

“Hey, feel free to take it. You’ve certainly earned it.”

His grin spread even wider. “I like working with you, Ada.”

I tried to grin back, but I wasn’t really in the mood. I’d only been in the city a couple of days, and already I’d faced three separate attempts on my life (not counting our trip to the Dark Brotherhood stronghold). I prayed that this one would be the last, but something told me I was being over-optimistic.

“Right,” I said, once we’d left the house and informed a guard about the wizard’s body. “Next target: goblin army. Location: ‘somewhere in the sewers’. Any idea where to start?’

Calvus thought for a moment. “Well, I’m guessing they won’t be anywhere near the Dark Brotherhood stronghold. Those guys aren’t about to share their territory. Does the Temple itself have sewers?”

“Hmm, good point,” I said. “I suppose it must. I’m not sure how to get into them, though.”

We made our way to the Temple, where the caretaker informed us that the sewers could be reached through a trapdoor in the basemant. She didn’t seem too impressed when she realised we were thinking of going down there. “This temple is clean as Almalexia’s conscience, sera,” she snapped. “Mind you keep it that way.”

Interesting point, I thought. This was the Almalexia who’d stolen divine powers from a dead god’s heart, was responsible for decades of brutal religious persecution, and had quite possibly murdered her own husband. How clean was her conscience, I wonder?

We found the sewers easily enough, but we didn’t find any goblins. Apart from a couple of rats, the only living (well, un-living) things in the place were a bunch of skeletons and ancestor ghosts. One interesting thing did happen, though: as I approached one of the ghosts with sword at the ready, it called out to me in a thin, whispery voice.

“Stranger! Listen!” Calvus and I stopped dead in our tracks. “I have a message I must tell you!”

I hesitated, unsure whether to trust it. “My name is Variner,” it went on. “I was killed by the Black Dart Gang.”

The name ‘Variner’ jogged a memory. “Oh… hang on. Are you Narisa Adus’ lover? The woman in the Bazaar sewers?”

“Yes! I beg you, avenge my death.” He floated a little closer to us, causing both of us to instinctively draw back. “I was killed by the Black Dart Gang. Their hideout is in the western Temple Sewers. There is a mechanism that can flood the room, drowning the gang – find a lever that looks like a torch holder, near the east end of the chamber. But whatever you do, don’t get too close or you will join me in the afterlife.”

“Um, okay,” I said warily. “Anything else?”

“No, I have delivered my message,” he quavered. “Now, at last, my spirit may find rest, and join in peaceful silence with my ancestors.”

With that he faded away, leaving Calvus looking distinctly skeptical. “I dunno, Ada. Are you sure you want to trust that thing? I’ve heard things about the Black Dart Gang, and they sound really nasty. Even compared to the Dark Brotherhood.”

“Well, he did mention this secret mechanism,” I said cautiously. “And… well, this isn’t the first time a ghost has given me useful information.”

He blinked. “Are you serious? You get a lot of ghosts passing on messages from beyond the grave, then?”

“You’d be amazed,” I said with a sigh.

Quietly, stealthily, we made our way towards the west side of the sewers. There was no evidence that the gang were nearby, but we really didn’t want to run into any of them unprepared. Calvus had mentioned that some of their enchanted darts could easily kill an armoured warrior in one hit.

As we approached one of the sewer partitions, we realised that we were getting close. Several chests and barrels held a small treasure trove of clothes and potions – mostly stolen from the Black Dart Gang’s victims, I suspected. At least we’d make some profit on today’s adventure, assuming we made it out alive.

A door in the western wall led us into another long, bare sewer corridor. There was no one around, and nothing of interest to see. “What did the guy say?” I muttered. “Something about a lever disguised as a torch holder?”

“There,” said Calvus suddenly, pointing to a carved torch holder on the wall near the door. It looked different from the others, and there was no torch in it. I walked over to the holder, examined it for a few seconds, and gave it an experimental yank.

There was a sudden low rumbling sound off in the distance. It sounded far away, but was getting louder every moment. “Um,” I said, turning to Calvus. “I think this is where we start running.”

We rushed back into the central sewers, slamming the heavy door behind us. Only a few seconds later, the rumbling sound grew to a roar, and I thought I could hear faint cries in the distance. Neither of us dared to try the door for several minutes.

Finally, Calvus walked up to the door and pushed it a few times. It wouldn’t budge an inch. “Mission accomplished, I guess.” I screwed up my face. “Nasty way to die.”

“Yeah. On the plus side, it couldn’t happen to a more deserving bunch.” He shrugged. “Shall we leave?”

We did search the rest of the sewers for any stray goblins, but didn’t find any. What we did find was a crate of silver weapons, and – tucked away behind an outcrop of rock – an adamantium axe. Calvus’ eyes nearly bugged out of his head when he saw it. “Gods, that thing must be worth a fortune!”

“Finders keepers, I guess.” I held it out to him. “Here, you have it. I don’t use axes.”

“I – wow. Are you sure?” I nodded. “Really? I mean, you could always sell it.”

“I’m rich enough already. I told you.”

“Sheesh.” He let out a long breath. “I never thought working for you would be this dangerous, but I didn’t think it would be this profitable either.”

“Hey, I have to keep you on side. Otherwise you might go over to Helseth.” I grinned wryly, but we both knew there was a grain of truth in what I had said. I couldn’t fully trust anyone here in Mournhold, not even Calvus.

I didn’t feel up to any more goblin-hunting that day, but we did go back to the Bazaar sewers to tell Narisa her lover’s spirit was free. We were both very cautious, realising the Dark Brotherhood might have stepped up their security, but we didn’t run into anyone else apart from that weird Khajiit woman. When I told Narisa her we’d managed to wipe out the Black Dart Gang, she just stared at us in disbelief.

“They’re... dead?” she croaked. “You killed them? You killed the Black Dart Gang?”

When we explained about the flood mechanism, and showed her the stolen goods we’d recovered from the gang, she cried with joy. “It’s a miracle,” she sobbed. “Here, please. Take this.” She held out an enchanted ring. “Variner gave it to me – it belonged to his family, but I’m sure they all would want you to have it. You have my thanks, and the thanks of Variner’s family, and his spirit, and all the victims of the Black Dart Gang.”

My ever-growing collection of rings and amulets was reaching quite insane proportions, but this one did look pretty useful. It had a Charm enchantment, similar to my own Voice of the Emperor spell, and charming people was an area where I could always use extra help. Besides, I couldn’t refuse it when she looked so happy and grateful.

We escorted Narisa back to the sewer entrance, where she hugged us both repeatedly and swore her eternal gratitude. “I’ll write all about you in the next issue,” she told me.

“Next issue?”

“Oh… didn’t I tell you? I’m a journalist.” Calvus and I looked blankly at each other. “Don’t you know what that is? It means that I write articles for newssheets. That’s how my poor Variner died, following a story about the Black Dart Gang.”

“Newssheets? Like the Common Tongue?”

“Oh no!” she exclaimed hastily. “Well… yes, that is a newssheet, but I don’t write for that one. Accusing the King of murder is a good way to get yourself killed in this city.”

How ironic, I thought. “Well, thanks for telling me,” I said out loud. “I’ll remember to come to you if I ever want any juicy gossip.”

“Always. Here, I’ll give you my address.” She wrote it down for me before hurrying off, presumably eager to clean herself up after a week in the sewers. Calvus and I went to the smithy to sell off the extra weapons we’d collected – apart from the adamantium axe, which he wanted to keep ‘just in case’ – and then headed back home for food, baths and a well-earned rest.

HELENA!!! YOUR BACK!!! Awesome! Wonderful! Fantastic! Fabolous! Now to reading!

Read it!

Wonderful! So totally... Helenistic! Keep em coming for us poor servants of yours!

Yay

:rofl: Morrowind NPCs are really, really gullible.

Chapter 6: A-Hunting We Shall Go

Calvus wanted to get some sleep before his evening bodyguard duties, so I spent the rest of the afternoon at the Bazaar, buying provisions and window-shopping. In one of the more up-market traders’ shops, I bought some imported Cyrodiilic goods as presents for the Sarethi family: a bottle of flin for Athyn, a tortoiseshell bowl for Domesea, and some fine doeskin gloves for Varvur. I briefly wondered if I should send a letter along with them: “Am enjoying the sights here in sunny Mournhold. Weather is fine, shame about all the people trying to kill me! Wish you were here, love Ada.”

The shop owner, Sunel Hlas, was well-dressed and polite but looked a bit depressed, and I asked him if business was going well. “Ah, fine,” he said with a sigh. “Azura knows there’s little else in the world worth doing. None of the rest of it matters... adventuring, fame, women. It’s all pointless.”

“Really? Why?”

“There’s no happiness to be found – no lasting happiness, anyway. It’s all a sham. Oh, I didn’t always think so,” he added, as I opened my mouth to reply. “I had a wife once, and was madly in love with her. But then my foolishness took her away, and now here I am. Bitter, alone, and tired of life.”

Eeesh. “I’m… very sorry to hear that,” I said, a little startled. “Er, what happened to your wife?”

“The folly of youth,” he said with a sigh. “Had dreams, aspirations. I foolishly followed them, and took her to Vvardenfell for what was supposed to be a ‘great adventure’. I paid for my foolishness, paid in full – unfortunately, my wife was made to pay as well. She caught the Blight shortly after arriving, and her frail constitution couldn’t handle it. I lost her to the damned disease, and it ruined me.”

“Gods.” I didn’t know what to say. “How… how long ago did this happen?”

“A few years now.” He shook his head. “No one could replace her. None of the women I’ve ever known could ever replace her.”

“Really?” A sudden thought struck me. “Hmm…”

Hlas was looking at me through narrowed eyes. “What of it, Imperial? You think there’s anyone that could ever compare to my Dralasa?”

I hesitated for a moment, picturing Marena Gilnith in my mind’s eye. At first sight they certainly didn’t seem like an obvious match: the young, optimistic Marena and the middle-aged, embittered Sunel. On the other hand… he was wealthy and successful, and could offer her a comfortable home away from her life of drudgery. And the age gap might not matter as much to Dunmer; after all, they’d still have hundreds of years together.

“Possibly,” I said at last. “If… if I were able to arrange for you to meet her, would you do it?”

“Not sure. Who is she?”

“Marena Gilnith is her name.”

He screwed up his face. “I don’t know her. Don’t particularly care to either. But fine… if it will get you to leave me alone, then I’ll meet her. It’ll be a waste of time, though.”

Not quite the enthusiastic response I’d hoped for, but never mind. I’d see what Marena herself had to say about it.

Luckily it wasn’t difficult to find Marena; she was hanging around the Bazaar in the same spot where I’d met her for the first time. Her hopeful expression cut to my heart; she must have been coming there every day, hoping I’d found someone for her. I really didn’t want to have to disappoint her.

“Have you met someone, Ada?” she asked, looking a bit nervous all of a sudden. “I have to tell you up front that I’m very apprehensive about all this. I’m taking a big risk here, not to mention that I need to leave work for a bit. So you’d better be right about this.”

But no pressure or anything, right? Suddenly I felt almost as nervous as she was. “If you’ve found someone who’s all wrong for me, I’ll simply never forgive you,” she went on. “You sure you want to do this?”

By now I really wasn’t, but I owed it to Sunel to at least try. “Well, let me tell you a bit about him first,” I said hastily. “His name is Sunel Hlas and he owns one of the shops over there in the market. He’s a bit older than you,” I confessed, “but not elderly or disgusting or anything… anyway, you said you wanted someone worldly, and he definitely fits the bill. He’s travelled around all over the place.”

“Sunel Hlas, you say?” She paused. “Hmm... I think I’ve heard the name before, but can’t remember where.”

“There’s one more thing I should mention,” I said, bracing myself. “Sunel’s wife died of blight disease a while ago, and he’s… still rather sore about it. I think he’s ready to move on, but… I just thought I’d warn you so you’ll know to be a bit tactful with him. Okay?”

“Whew. Okay.” Marena shook her head. “I’m really trusting your judgment, Ada. Tell him to meet me at the Winged Guar two days from now. I do hope he’s nice...”

Feeling less confident every minute, I went back to tell Sunel the good news. Why the heck did I let myself get talked into setting up a blind date? I knew these things almost never worked out.

If Marena’s response had put me on edge, Sunel’s made me grind my teeth in frustration. “I don’t know why I’m even discussing this,” he muttered. “There’s no way this is going to work out. It’ll just end in heartbreak. Oh, very well, I’ll meet her.”

I looked at him in disbelief. “Why? If you’ve already decided it’s going to be a disaster, why even bother?”

“Don’t know.” He wouldn’t meet my eyes.

“Look, Sunel,” I said in exasperation, “couldn’t you at least try to be optimistic? For her sake, if not for yours? She’s taking a risk too, you know.” He said nothing. “Look at it this way: you’ve nothing to lose. If it doesn’t work out, you’ll be proved right; if it does, well, it could be the start of something really special. Either way, you win.”

He didn’t say anything, just stared mulishly at the floor. Heaving a weary sigh, I turned to leave, wanting to kick both him and myself. Oh well: if the date crashed and burned, which it probably would, at least the worst that could happen was that both of them would be a bit annoyed with me. You can’t win ’em all, I suppose.

When I got back to the Winged Guar in Godsreach, a Bosmer was pacing angrily up and down outside the door. “Damn that villainous, clay-brained Nord!” he snarled, as I passed. “I hate him! I swear by the teeth of Molag Bal himself I’ll have revenge on that corprus-licking ignoramus.”

I looked at him through narrowed eyes. “Can I help you?”

“Why, yes!” he exclaimed, and I instantly regretted my choice of words. “My name’s High-Pockets. I came in here for a drink, minding my own damned business, when that guar-loving drunkard Holmar started raving and making fun of me. He grabbed me by the shirt, slid me across the bar, and then kicked me out the door. He’ll be singing all of Saryoni’s Sermons at once when I’ve had my revenge!”

Having had first-hand experience of just how annoying male Wood Elves could be, I suspected this might not be the whole story. “And how do you plan to get your revenge?”

“Well, I’ll – I’ll…” He paused. “Listen, Imperial. How would you like to help me go in there and teach that flea-bitten, dampworm-infested Nord the lesson of his life?”

I winced; the last thing I needed today was to get into yet another fight. “Well, I’m not going to beat someone up just on your say-so,” I told him. “I’ll have a word with this Holmar, okay? But I’m not promising anything.”

“Fantastic!” He began to make for the door, and then hesitated. “Um… you’re bigger than me, so I’ll follow you. He’s right inside the bar there.”

I found Holmar the Nord on the upper floor of the tavern, swaying gently on his feet with a mug of sujamma clutched in his hand. He didn’t look capable of walking straight, let alone picking someone up and throwing them out of the bar, but I knew from experience that drunkards could be surprisingly strong. I wished I’d thought to put on my enchanted gauntlets before tackling him. I didn’t want to use a sword on an unarmed man, and I didn’t fancy my chances in a fistfight – even if he was blind drunk.

“Evening, Holmar,” I said, trying to appear tough but non-threatening. “My friend here says you’ve been bullying him.”

“Wha’s that?” He hiccupped several times. “Who… who’s there? Gimme another drink, you cockamamie bastar…” He blinked, and his eyes focussed on the little Bosmer. “Hey ... Hey, this mus’ be about that blasted Wood Elf I just tossed out of here, right? Hehehehe.”

High-Pockets shrank back as Holmar took a lurching step towards him. “Stupid little Wood Elves,” he muttered. “Back for another round, eh?”

I stepped between them before he could get any closer. “Hey, calm down,” I said, raising a hand soothingly, and quickly cast my Voice of the Emperor power on him. “No need to get nasty, OK? How about you leave my friend alone, and I buy you another drink?”

To my relief, it worked. Holmar’s bleary eyes swung away from High-Pockets’ face and towards mine. “Wha?” he murmured, and then his face lit up as the word ‘drink’ filtered through to his brain. “Well, ’m not one to turn down a drink. Barkeep! Gimme two more s’jammas, now! I like one in each hand.”

I paid over the extortionate price of sixty septims, and we both watched Holmar gulp down the two sujammas. I guessed that another drink or two would be enough to wipe him out, and I was right. As he drained the last few drops from his tankard, a glazed expression came over his eyes and he slowly keeled over, hitting the floor with a satisfying thud.

High-Pockets let out a yelp of delight. “Yes! I’d have liked to bash his kwama-cuttle-infested head in, but I have to hand it to you. That was some smooth handling.” He fumbled around in one of his many pockets. “I don’t have much to give in thanks, but here, take this money.”

He dropped a handful of coins into my hands – to my surprise, rather more than I’d spent on the drinks – along with yet another enchanted ring. I felt a bit guilty about taking a reward from him when I’d hardly even done anything. “That’s OK, I don’t – ”

But he was already heading off towards the bar. I turned back to see Hession, the owner of the tavern, looking in my direction.

“Nicely handled,” she said approvingly. (I think that’s quite possibly the first approving look I’ve ever had from a High Elf.) “You dealt with that very well. Might you be interested in helping me with some work I need taken care of?”

“Hmph.” It was getting late, and I was tired and hungry. “What sort of work?”

“Well, you see, my usual bouncer Grub didn’t show today.” She pursed her lips in annoyance. “Probably got lost in the Pavilion again, the Orcish ninny. Anyway, would you be willing to stand in for him? All you would have to do is make one sweep through the bar crowd. If memory serves, we don’t get too many people coming and going this time of day.”

I’d never worked as a bouncer before. Most of them tend to be hefty, muscle-bound Nords and Orcs – if you can intimidate people with your sheer size, you’re halfway there already. “What will you pay me?” I asked, too tired to bother dancing around the subject.

“A thousand gold, if you handle it well. And a meal and drink on the house,” she added, correctly guessing what was more important to me right now.

Pretty good pay for one evening’s work, I had to say. Even with the wealth I had now, a thousand gold wasn’t to be sniffed at. “Okay, I’ll do it,” I said recklessly.

“Fantastic! Here’s all you have to do: Go around and talk to everyone in the bar. If they’re too drunk, or unruly, or just a bad character, throw them out. Report to me when you’re done.”

Reluctantly I began a slow tour of the bar, looking out for potential troublemakers. Most people seemed to be behaving themselves well enough, but one guy in particular drew my eye – another Bosmer, funnily enough. He was standing in the middle of the room with a black scowl on his face, rambling loudly about ‘foreigners’ to no one in particular, and swearing viciously at anyone who passed too close to him. My heart sank – this guy showed all the signs of being about to turn nasty, and if that happened, I’d already used up my Mr. Nice Guy option.

I approached him cautiously. “Everything all right, sir?”

With some effort, the man focussed his rather glazed eyes on my face. “Hey, hey, watch it there.” He hiccupped loudly. “Why’re you harass…harass…harassin’ me? I ain’t done nothing to you. *Hic!*”

“I’m not harassing you, sir, just – ”

“Damn you, you dirty Imperial!” he snarled, before I could finish. “Always…. *hic!* …always causing problems.”

Uh-oh, this wasn’t going well. “I’m not the one causing problems, sir,” I said mildly. “I think you should calm down a bit.”

This just made things worse. The Bosmer shoved his face up close to mine – well, as close as he could get given that he barely came up to my shoulder. “Not for the likes of a dirty Imperial like you, you… you… bubble-faced puke!” he spat, giving me a whiff of breath that smelled like Oblivion’s brewery. “I can say whatever I want to say, and nobody can stop me. NOBODY!”

I kept my cool. “Sir, you’ve had quite enough. I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“No, I’m not coming with you, you dirty Imperial!” He wrenched away from my grasp as I laid a hand on his arm. “Who knows what revolting tricks you’ll pull when we’re alone… *hic!* GET AWAY FROM ME!”

Before I could react he had lashed out suddenly with one of his small fists, hitting me square on the nose. I have to say, for such a little guy he packed quite a punch. I backed off a couple of steps, momentarily stunned, and he ran at me with fists flying. “You won’t take me in… you CAN’T! Victory or… VICTORY!!”

This time I managed to dodge the clumsy blow and grabbed him by the collar, shoving him back into a wall. Behind me, Hession the bar owner let out a shriek. “Please don’t kill anyone! Knock him out if you must, but don’t kill him!”

I’d no intention of killing anyone, but what stumped me was how to deal with the guy without hurting him too badly. I really really didn’t want a repeat of that night on the road near Cheydinal, and this man was a lot smaller than the one I’d accidentally killed. I tried casting my Star of the West spell, and he staggered heavily but didn’t fall. Gods, this little guy was tough!

As he started to beat at my chest with his fists, I grabbed his arms with both hands to hold him back and kneed him hard in the groin. He let out a wail of anguish and sank to the ground, whimpering, as the spell finally did its work.

I tasted blood on my lip, and realised that it was trickling down from my nose. Sighing, I cast a quick healing spell and cleaned myself off as best I could with a rag from the bar. As Hession sighed with relief, and a couple of other patrons carried off the unconscious Wood Elf, a Breton barmaid sidled up to me.

“Are you filling in for Grub?” I nodded. “Could you do anything about Galms Seles? He’s a hustler just moved here from Vvardenfell. He thinks he can out-distance his reputation, but a friend in Sadrith Mora tipped me off. I wish he would leave – he’s put a damper on the action.”

I followed her gaze to the nondescript Dark Elf sitting at a nearby table. “Okay, I’ll see what I can do.”

As I walked up to Seles, he gave me what I guessed was his most charming smile. “Hello there, Imperial. Up for a game of shells?” He indicated some pieces of shell on the table in front of him. “I’ll put this coin under one of these three mudcrab shell pieces I have here, and then mix them up – ”

Gods. I can’t believe people still fall for that old trick. “I know how it works,” I interrupted him, “and I know how you make sure nobody ever wins that bet. People here are on to you, Seles. You’d better clean up your act before you end up like our Bosmer friend back there.”

His face paled. “Damn! Who told you? C’mon, buddy, don’t be too hard on me – I was just trying to make a few extra gold!” I narrowed my eyes. “Look, if you let me stay, I promise I’ll give everyone fair odds. If anyone complains of me cheating, they can tell Hession and I’ll be out of here in an instant. Okay?”

I doubted I could trust him to keep that promise, but I couldn’t really be bothered to take it any further. I couldn’t help thinking people had only themselves to blame if they let themselves be fooled so easily. “Make sure you do,” I said, fixing him with my sternest glare. “I’ll be back to check.”

I did another quick round of the bar to make sure no one else was causing any problems, then spoke the barmaid to check on Galms Seles. It seemed that he was behaving himself, at least as long as I was nearby. Satisfied, I went back to Hession to claim my reward.

“Fantastic!” she exclaimed, once I’d given her a run-down of the situation. “Grub couldn’t have done it better himself. Here’s your payment – and thank you.”

She hurried to the bar to order my free meal and drink from Ra’Tesh the bartender, then left me to enjoy it in peace. I wolfed it all down as quickly as I could and then went back to my room, where Calvus was just waking up. “There you are,” he said, stifling a yawn. “Been having fun?”

“You could say that. I set up a blind date and filled in for a missing bouncer.”

“Oh? You do get around, don’t you?” He yawned again. “Okay, I guess I’m back on sentry duty. Sleep tight.”

I have to say that I felt a lot safer with him guarding the door – though no one tried to attack me that night either. I still wasn’t willing to let my guard down, but it looked like Helseth might have given up, at least for the moment.

The next morning I went back to the Ebonheart Council Chambers to find Llerar Mandas. I gave him the presents I’d bought for the Sarethis and asked him to have them couriered to Ald’ruhn as soon as possible, telling him they were important documents. I think he might have wondered why the ‘important documents’ were gift-wrapped, but he didn’t say anything.

I planned to take up the Goblin Hunt again that day, but first I wanted to do some research and find out where they actually were. This was easier said than done, however – I couldn’t just walk up to someone in the street and go “Seen any goblins lately, mate?” Instead I had to try and strike up conversations with shopkeepers, guards and street cleaners, and find a way to bring up the subject without seeming suspicious.

A lot of people had heard the rumours about goblins in the city, but none of them seemed to have any idea where they might be. I was about to give up when I ran into a shabby-looking, barefoot Nord man near the Winged Guar. He smiled at me, his expression friendly but rather vacant. “Hello, nice lady!”

“Hello,” I said cautiously, suspecting that he was a beggar.

“You see Dilborn?” he went on. “Dilborn my friend! Dilborn gone three days now, and Thrud sad.”

I guessed from this little speech that the Nord’s name was Thrud, and that he was a few icicles short of a glacier, if you know what I mean. “No, I haven’t seen your friend Dilborn,” I said, speaking slowly and clearly to make sure he understood. “What does he look like?”

Thrud’s face lit up. “Dilborn big and mighty wizard! Dilborn read books to Thrud… all the words, big words, two, maybe three times. Now Dilborn gone, no one read books to Thrud.”

He looked so sad that I couldn’t help feeling sorry for him. Quite the gentle giant, clearly – despite the ebony war axe strapped to his back. “Where did you lose Dilborn, Thrud?”

Thrud thought for a moment. “Thrud see Dilborn go down in sewers near here. Dilborn go to sewers lots to meet friends, Dilborn says. Most times, Dilborn back soon, and happy, happy. But Dilborn not back soon now.” He paused, fixing hopeful puppy-dog eyes on my face. “You help Thrud find Dilborn?”

Oh gods, not again. I don’t want to sound heartless, but this was getting ridiculous. I was about to tell him that I really didn’t have time to search for his friend, when suddenly an idea came to me. “Thrud, did you see any goblins down in the sewers? You know, goblins? Ugly little green things with sharp teeth and pointy ears?”

The big Nord pondered this for a long time, literally about half a minute. I could practically see the cog-wheels slowly grinding around in his brain. “Yes, goblins in sewers,” he said at last. “But Dilborn say we stay away from goblins. Goblins VERY nasty.”

“The goblins are here in Godsreach? Underneath these houses?”

He hesitated, then nodded. “Okay Thrud,” I said, still speaking as slowly as possible. “I will help you find your friend Dilborn, if you show me where the goblins are. Okay?” He nodded again. “I’m just going to find my friend Calvus, then I’ll come back and we’ll look for Dilborn. All right?”

I left the cheerful-looking Thrud nodding enthusiastically and hurried back into the Winged Guar to wake up Calvus. “I’ve found out where the goblins are.”

“Oh? Good.” He didn’t look hugely enthusiastic, I have to say. “So we’re going after them now, are we?”

“Soon. First we’re going to rescue a missing wizard.”

Caius raised his eyebrows, but said nothing. I think he was getting used to my habit of doing unnecessary favours for random strangers. We took some time to eat and prepare our weapons and equipment, then went back outside the Winged Guar, where a much more cheerful-looking Thrud was waiting patiently for us. When he saw me, a huge grin spread over his face.

“Thrud happy, happy, nice lady.” He waved his axe enthusiastically in the air, making both of us instinctively shrink back a little. “Find Dilborn now, yes?”

“Yes, we’ll find him now. Can you show us the way, Thrud?”

Thrud led the way to the sewers, singing loudly and tunelessly as he went along. “I hope he’s not dangerous,” Calvus muttered behind his back.

“I doubt it.” Even so, I had to hope that Thrud’s friend Dilborn was still alive and well, or the scene that followed wouldn’t be pretty. I hated to think what would happen if we found his remains in a goblin’s stew-pot.

The Godsreach sewers looked pretty much like the ones in other parts of the city, with dank passages half-blocked by the occasional rock fall. We hadn’t gone very far before we heard voices in the distance. “Hold up,” I said to the other two. “I’m going ahead to scout out the place. Thrud, you must be very quiet, okay? Shhh.”

I slipped on the Amulet of Shadows and hurried out into the sewer intersection, leaving the others in the shelter of a large boulder. Behind a rusty grate, I could see three figures: some tough-looking Dunmer and a scrawny Breton with slave bracers on his arms. He was completely naked and flanked on both sides by two of the men, who were clearly guarding him. Could this be the ‘big and mighty wizard’ Thrud had described?

I slipped back behind the boulder and pulled off the amulet. “Thrud, what does Dilborn look like?” I whispered. “A Breton man, about this high, shoulder-length brown hair?” He nodded. “Well, he’s here in the sewers. Some bad men are holding him prisoner.”

Thrud let out a low, rumbling growl, and reached for his axe. “No!” I whispered urgently. “If you just run out there and attack them, they might hurt Dilborn.” He hesitated, and I beckoned him and Calvus towards me. “Okay, I think I have a plan. Listen very carefully to what I want you to do…”

I had to explain the plan three times over before Thrud understood it, but eventually he got the idea. I handed the Amulet of Shadows to Calvus, who slipped it on and disappeared into the intersection. Thrud and I followed, weapons at the ready, walking slowly along in plain sight of the Dunmer until we were close enough to speak to them. The nearest of the three – a wiry, tattooed man wearing glass boots and bracers – stepped forward to greet us.

“Well, well, look what the scrib dragged in.” His gaze flickered from me to Thrud, and back again. “Drathas Neras, at your service. I suppose you’re here to rescue our little Dilborn, eh? Then I suggest you don’t make any sudden moves. You see, when people owe me money, I get a bit touchy.”

“And I take it Dilborn here owes you money?”

“That’s right. We indulge in a bit of gambling down here from time to time – away from the prying eyes of the guards, you know? And Dilborn is one of our best customers.” His lips twisted into a mirthless grin. “Attack me, and my men have orders to kill Dilborn first – poor, naked, defenceless Dilborn. But if you’re here to settle Dilborn’s debts… well, we may be able to work something out.”

I sighed. “Okay, let’s not beat about the bush. How much does he owe you?”

“He currently owes… if my memory serves me right… yes, 3,000 septims. And he’s not leaving here until he pays his debts.”

“Well, I’m not paying you 3,000 for that idiot.” Beside me, Thrud let out a grunt of protest. “Shut up, Thrud. Okay Neras, make it 1,000 and you might have a deal.”

Neras’ smile grew even nastier. “I really don’t think you’re in any position to negotiate, Imperial. Remember, any sudden moves on your part and Dilborn dies instantly.”

“Look behind you,” I said. His eyes narrowed slightly and he half-turned towards his guards, making sure to keep both me and Thrud in sight.

Under cover of the amulet’s Chameleon spell, Calvus had snuck up behind the two men guarding Dilborn, and paralysed them by just pricking their skin with the tip of his glass jinkblade – the one he’d ‘liberated’ from the wizard Gavis Velas. After that he had dropped one of them to the ground with his own Star of the West spell, and pressed the tip of his blade right up against the other’s throat. Drathas swallowed hard and turned back towards me, an expression of baffled rage on his face.

“Still sure you don’t want to settle?” I asked. “Look at it this way: at least you’ll get some money rather than none. And you’ll be alive, of course.”

Neras ground his teeth, but he had enough sense to know he was beaten. “All right,” he said at last. “But only because I can’t abide his constant whining. Give me the money, and I’ll let him go.”

It was a good thing I still had that thousand given to me by Hession, I thought, as I counted out the money. I wouldn’t have liked to leave Drathas here with only Thrud as a guard.

“All right, he can go,” he said, once he’d counted the money I’d given him. “Alam, remove his bracers.” Calvus had released the second guard, having put his weapon well out of reach, but he was still watching him like a hawk with his blade at the ready.

The guard unlocked Dilborn’s bracers, and he slowly backed away from his captors, keeping as far away from Neras as possible. As he edged nervously round to join us, Thrud let out a cry of joy. “Dilborn back! Dilborn back!”

“Oh, shut up, you witless man-child.” Neras turned towards Dilborn. “Dilborn, never show your face to me again, or I’ll slice it off with a rusty spoon, you hear me? Now get lost, all of you.”

We left, making sure the thugs weren’t following us. Once we were safely out of the sewers, Thrud practically fell on me, enveloping me in a huge bear-hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! Thrud happy, Dilborn happy, ALL happy!”

“That’s… okay… Thrud,” I wheezed, hoping my ribs weren’t broken. “You can let go now.”

Dilborn gave me a rather embarrassed smile. “Thank you, Imperial – I am in your debt. Alas, in my present financially embarrassed condition, it is a debt I cannot repay. I fear that, under the circumstances, your own virtue must be sufficient reward.”

I was about to speak when Thrud, who had been scrabbling about in the large pouch on his belt, thrust a dog-eared book into my hands. “Here, Ada. Take Thrud’s favourite book. It is very good… many words… on both sides of pages.”

“Thank you, Thrud,” I said, trying to keep a straight face. “Dilborn, Calvus and I are looking for goblins in the sewers. Do you know where to find them?”

After Dilborn had helpfully explained – even drawing a rough map showing the layout of the sewers – Calvus and I set out once again on our goblin hunt. When we entered the western part of the sewers, we were faced with a choice of two passageways: one wide and well-lit, the other dark, narrow and twisty. “What do you think?” I asked Calvus. “Which way?”

He thought for a moment. “Let’s try the cave. At least there’ll be more cover.”

He was right about that, as it turned out; unfortunately there was also a half-flooded cavern with a waterfall. By the time we’d waded through, we were so soaked with spray that we had to stop and dry ourselves off. There was no sign of the goblins so far, but I couldn’t help feeling glad about that.

A short way on we found ourselves back in the main part of the sewers. Just where the cave widened into the sewer passage, behind some huge stalagmites, we came across an heavily-armoured Nord man sitting on a bedroll. When he saw us he leapt up with an exclamation, hefting a massive warhammer in our direction.

“Hold it!” I took a step backwards, lowering my sword slightly. “We’re not here to fight.”

The man eyed us suspiciously, still grasping his hammer. “What do you want?”

“We’re just here to hunt goblins.” I glanced around at the Nord’s makeshift bedroom, which was scattered with empty bottles and bits of old food. “What are you doing here?”

He scowled, but lowered his weapon slightly. “I’m Hloggar the Bloody, and what I do here is my business.”

“Okay, fine. You leave us alone and we’ll leave you alone, all right?” He nodded, and stood aside to let us pass. Then, without the slightest warning, the roars started.

“[censored]!” Hloggar’s head snapped round. “They’re coming – ” He got no further, because two goblins and a war durzog were barrelling down the passage towards us.

Now the goblins I’d fought in Cyrodiil were fairly tame opponents – nasty, but nothing to strike fear into the heart of an experienced warrior. These were different. These ones were huge and muscle-bound, more like Orcs. Even with one of us matched against each of them, and Hloggar fighting the durzog – like an attack dog, only twice as big and twice as mean – that battle was a damn close call. The goblins weren’t exactly skilled fighters, but they were so bloody tough – no matter how many times you hit them, they just refused to go down.

When all three were finally vanquished, the three of us retreated to lick our wounds, bruised and battered. “Phew.” Hoggar wiped away the sweat that was streaming from his brow. “Wasn’t expecting that. Guess I should think myself lucky you guys were here.”

Calvus and I said nothing, but exchanged worried glances. It looked like this goblin hunt was going to be rather tougher than we had thought.

Looks like I have some catching up to do!

Somehow misc quests just tend to make sense when playing the game
Another chapter! :clap: (when did they change the woot smiley? )

Wow, you are amazing. You are a true artist. Ada feels so real, and your writing if better than a lot of real authors out there. Thank you for this awesome fan-fic.

I've only read a little bit, but if the rest of your work is this good, I don't know why Bethesda never contacted you for a contract.

Wow, thanks! I don't honestly think I'm good enough to write for Bethesda, but I'm very flattered.

Oh wow, new chapter! It's been a while, I think I'll re-read the last chapter first.