» Fri May 13, 2011 7:55 pm Prologue
The elderly, wrinkled man gingerly set the quill onto
the scroll. He slowly rose from his seat, and walked
toward the exit of his yurt. The man turned to give a
last, satisfied glance at his works, before leaving
with a contented sigh.
As soon as the old man left, a silent, golden light
began to bathe his two scrolls. The scrolls gleamed
brighter and brighter before disappearing entirely,
replaced by a single phrase on a lone piece of
parchment.
Many fall, but one remains.
Chapter One
As soon as I had I taken my first tentative step onto Vvardenfell's land, I loved it. The climate, the thick air, and the subtle mystery surrounding Seyda Neen immediately captured my attention. For the first time since I left Skyrim, I felt home.
A friendly, warm complexioned Imperial asked me a few questions about my ethnicity and name. I anxiously answered his questions before stepping into the Census office.
Directly in front of me stood a grim faced, mustachioed Breton, who unhesitatingly began to question me. I steadfastly answered his questionnaire, and heaved a happy sigh when he handed me my release papers. "Show them to the guard to get your release fee," he told me briskly.
I proceeded then to the courtyard of the Office, where I noticed an enchanted ring casually placed inside of a barrel. Perhaps some sort of a welcoming gift for outlanders? I thought to myself. Grinning slyly, I pocketed the ring before entering the next building.
Inside, a strict looking officer, Sellus Gravius, glanced at me warily. "The new Nord outlander, I see." I nodded. "Well then. Your instructions are to take this package to a man called Caius Cosades in Balmora." He handed me a small white package and some directions, along with a few drakes. "Be on your way, then." My excitement steadily grew with each word he spoke, and I gladly bounded out the door into the swampy town before me.
Chapter Two (bear with me, I write small chapters)
A minuscule Bosmer paced toward me, looking rather distressed. "Hello. Are you the outlander sent from the Imperial City? I'm Fargoth," he blurted out clumsily.
"Yes, indeed, Fargoth. My name is Blackstar, and I hail from Dawnstar in Skyrim," I told the little fellow.
"Nice to meet you. You didn't happen to see an Engraved Ring of Healing anywhere around here, did you?" He glanced around.
I winced. So much for my new prize. Deciding to follow my conscience, I nodded and slipped the elf his ring.
"Oh! Thank you!" he said to me, smiling. I nodded. "Stop at my friend Arrille's tradehouse before you leave, I'll say a good word for you!" He patted me on the arm (my shoulder was too high for him) and strutted off toward the docks.
I was considerably pleased at the prospect of getting good prices, though I still was a bit suspicious of the sneaky looking Bosmer. Oh well. I walked toward the conspicuous tradehouse, nodding to the guards as I went by.
After trading my humble items for some armor and a steel axe, I bought a few useful spells from the High Elf Arrille. Tired, but considerably pleased with my progress, I paid him for a room and crashed on the bed, exhausted.
Chapter Three
I awoke at five in the morning, slung my pack of items over my shoulder and headed out the door.
The silt strider's prices were too high for me, so hoofing it appeared to be the only option. I excitedly set off north to Balmora.
The previous evening I had discussed my plans with a scout at the tradehouse. My travels would take me past Pelagiad, before turning northwest past the mountains to my destination.
As I followed the road, I became absorbed in thought. What should I do after I delivered this package? Perhaps a visit to the island of Solstheim. The people in Seyda Neen remarked that Khuul, a fishing village in the northern tip of Vvardenfell, now had a boat to the frozen island. I always have had a fondness for cold places, and this Solstheim sounded the place for me.
I hastened my pace into a quick gait as a Kagouti rumbled past to the north. I wanted to avoid combat as much as possible, considering my lack of good equipment. My iron armor rattled annoyingly with each step I took.
At noon, I stopped for a moment to catch my breath. "Phew," I panted. It appeared the swampland was giving way to regular grasslands, so I took comfort in the notion of my considerable progress.
Before I even had a chance to start up again, a handsome Khajiit ran down the road. "Wait a minute, stranger!" I cried out to him. The feline stopped in his tracks and swiveled to face me.
In a sign of good faith, I held out to him some crab meat I had obtained from Arrille. He walked warily toward me and grabbed the food. "Lionsmane thanks you," he informed me.
"Where are you heading to, Lionsmane?" I asked him.
"Khajiit go to Hla Oad. Cross river, take boat to Vivec."
"I'm heading north as well. Perhaps you'd like to join me?"
Lionsmane hesitated for a moment, then nodded his assent. "Good." I grinned at him, and he smiled a feline smile back. I set off with him at a slower pace, but happy to have a companion. The day, it seemed, was going well.
Chapter Four
The next two hours I spent conversing with my new friend. Lionsmane was a highly intelligent Khajiit, with much traveling experience and good equipment. He told me tales of his adventures in Morrowind, under the deep, dark sewers of Mournhold, in the caves and icy plains of Solstheim (I listened in rapture to these), and of his wonderful times of living in the wild.
I in turn explained to him of my recent arrival from the Imperial City, and of my delivery mission to a man named Cosades. He nodded. "Road to Balmora is far from here. Lionsmane go with you, errand to Vivec can wait." I grinned and patted him on his furry back.
We reached Pelagiad well before nightfall, but the next town would be Balmora, a day's journey from Pelagiad. Lionsmane and I stopped in the Halfway Tavern for a small drink and to room. I bade him goodnight and settled into my cosy room, dreaming of the good times ahead.
Morning shone through my window, gently prodding me awake. I dressed and removed my belongings from the pretty wooden dresser. To my surprise, a healing potion was stuffed into the pack. How in Vivec's grace did that get in there? I shrugged and went out to meet with Lionsmane.
We started out on the road north in good cheer. Lionsmane shared some more stories of his adventures, and I listened happily. He had barely finished telling me of the gentle horkers in Solstheim's shores when an arrow whizzed by my head.
"Get down!" Lionsmane shouted. I obeyed and crouched down, looking around for our attacker. Lionsmane apparantly spotted something I didn't, for he charged into the underbrush next to the road. A hiss and a yell came from the bushes, and I, fearing for my friend's life, took out my axe and darted after Lionsmane.
Chapter Five
When I broke through the thick underbrush, I saw Lionsmane and a Dunmer bandit looking at each other warily. The Dunmer suddenly rushed at the Khajiit, and I saw a silver dai-katana gleam in his hand. Lionsmane, however, was not to be overcome. He coolly unsheathed an enchanted Daedric claymore from its hidden sheathe on his belt. The bandit gave a futile swipe at him, but the Khajiit gave an agile leap and stabbed his attacker in the chest.
I stood in awe as a cloud of frost grew about the Dunmer, making him writhe in agony. He soon dropped stone dead on the ground, frost on his eyebrows and lips.
"You...have a Daedric claymore?" I asked my friend weakly.
He smiled toothily. "Lionsmane has his blade Tunisfang, makes enemy freeze to death." He sheathed his long sword and heaved a sigh. "The hour is growing late, friend Blackstar. Lionsmane wish us to hurry to Balmora."
"Er, yes," I said anxiously. My friend's powerful weapon had left me almost as stunned as the bandit. We left the small clearing and resumed the path north.
It was early evening when we saw the tall, graceful silt strider of Balmora's docks. Lionsmane and I exchanged happy glances and hurried toward the large city.
Chapter Six
Lionsmane and I were greeted near the gates by a tall Argonian. "Who is this?" she inquired in a high but friendly tone. I informed her that we were adventurers, and I was on a delivery mission to a man named Caius Cosades. She grinned at us. "Itan knows Cosades' house well. Follow Itan, adventurers." She began walking across the bridge crossing the river Odai, and we both followed her eagerly.
Itan stopped in front of a little sheltered house on the very corner of the town. "This is Master Cosades' house," she informed us, and slunk away.
"Well, Lionsmane," I said sadly. "I guess this is goodbye."
He sorrowfully nodded. "Khajiit have things to do, but Lionsmane sees you soon. In fact," a small grin grew on his face. "In fact, Lionsmane see you when you least expect it." And with a long, extraordinary jump, the Khajiit cleared the row of houses, jumped into the river, and sped off at a blinding pace. I smiled and entered the small house.
The air was close and the light dim inside the little hovel. I barely noticed the bare-chested Imperial standing in the corner, arms crossed. "And who may you be?" he asked me impatiently.
I drew the package out of my sack. "I was sent from the Census office, in Seyda Neen. They told me to give this to you." I handed him the package. This is one short Imperial.
He ripped it open and sat down on his bed, shuffling through the contents. The note he studied for a few minutes, apparently decoding it. He gave a small gasp after awhile, and I started. Oh dear. Have I done something wrong? He set the note down and gave me a more thorough examination. "You arrived from the Imperial City?" He asked. I nodded. "You're unsure of your parents' names or origins?" I nodded. "Yet you know the day you were born on?" I sighed and nodded. "Interesting." He paced around the tiny room.
"Well, then, Blackstar, how about a proper introduction? I am Caius Cosades, of the Blades." I gasped.
"The Blades? The secret organization?"
"No longer secret to you. I wish you to join the Blades."
"Well...yes...of course! But--"
"No time for buts. Do you want to join or not?"
"Er, yes."
"Good. You're now a Novice of the Blades. Are you ready for orders?"
"Yes sir," I replied smartly. Hey, here's a chance to get my feet wet before I start with my adventures! Little did I know that my feet would be completely soaked before I was through with the Blades.
Chapter Seven (i'm on seven now, right?)
After proper introductions with the Spymaster, he began talking in a more serious tone. "Blackstar, I have some information I need. Can you get it for me?" I nodded my assent. "All right. Go to the Fighters Guild here in Balmora and talk to their Drillmaster, Hasphat Antabolis. Ask him about the Nerevarine--" he looked at me strangely--"and the Sixth House cults. Understand?"
"Yes sir!" I responded eagerly and made my way out of the house.
Outside, I allowed myself a little detour. It was getting dark, and I had noticed an admirable looking inn on the way to Cosades' house. I weeded my way through the streets and crossed the bridge. The Lucky Lockup. I grinned.
The next morning I awoke from my bed with a slight headache. Good thing I didn't drink mead instead of greef, or else I'd be hardly able to get up. I gave myself a few slaps on the face, dressed, and exited the friendly inn.
A High Elf stood outside of the inn, tapping his foot at the ground and staring at the vacant silt strider port. "It's near noon, and Daelien still isn't here!"
"Pardon me sir," I interjected quietly. "Do you have a problem?" He gave me a quick glance and haughtily sniffed.
"My business partner, a Bosmer, has not arrived yet. She's very late." He paced up the platform and back down. "Listen, Nord. If you can run a bit south to Seyda Neen and find out what's happened, I'll let you keep these." He offered me a pair of shining boots. I gazed at them in awe. "The Ten Pace Boots. A trip to Seyda Neen takes a few hours instead of days. Is it a deal?"
"Yes!" I said eagerly. Just the thing I need.
"They'll make you tired after you use them, but you can still run like the wind," he cautioned me. "Quickly now!" I slipped the boots on and sped off south.
Chapter Ate
I was roughly a third of the way to Seyda Neen before I came upon a lady Bosmer struggling down the road. There was no trace of the silt strider, nor the driver, and the nix-hounds of the swamp were lurking nearby. I knew she was in danger, so I cried out to her.
"Hello, miss!" She turned toward me.
"Hello there. It would appear my driver had far too much Greef last night. Oh well, not like he cares anymore..."
"You mean...they're dead? The strider and the driver?"
"Yes. I only escaped alive because I had a Rising Force potion handy. I've been using it to get this far, but now it has worn off."
I sighed. Good Vivec, doesn't anyone walk anymore? "Come with me, good lady! Your Altmer business partner sent me." She cautiously came down the path to me. "Good thing we're not too far from Balmora, eh?" She didn't seem terribly talkative, and just nodded. O-kay. We began walking north, she glancing at the stalking nix-hounds and I pondering the uses of my new boots.
Night was falling when we returned to Balmora. The Altmer still stood in front of the platform, doggedly pacing back and forth. I loudly hailed him as I helped Daelrian approach. He jumped an amusing 3 feet in the air. "You're back!" he yelled delightedly as the Bosmer sat down on the stairs of the port.
I merely gave him a nod of acknowledgment and headed to the Fighter's Guild, satisfied with my boots and good deed done.
Chapter Over 9000
I entered the Fighters Guild and was immediately greeted by a small female Breton. "May I help you?" she inquired sweetly. I nodded briskly, having a particular dislike for this suspiciously polite race.
"I'm looking for a man named Antabolis."
"Antabolis?"
I swallowed my urge to say "No, Scribshanks."
"Yes."
"The Drillmaster is downstairs with Flaenia. I'm not sure if he'll want to be disturbed."
"My business is very important," I replied, and forced my way past this unpleasant little woman.
I found Antabolis casually leaning on a spear, next to a tall Imperial female. He viewed me with an annoying air of impatience. Note to self: Never join the Fighters Guild. Bunch of-- I was interrupted in my brooding by this Hasphat.
"May I help you?"
Good Vehk, you'd think you were at a trader's, not the Fighters Guild. "Yes. Caius Cosades sent me to gather some information from you."
"What about?" He eyed me cautiously.
"The Nerevarine and the Sixth House."
He raised an eyebrow.
"All right...I will, if you do me a favor first."
I nodded.
"I need you to get a certain Dwemer puzzle box from a nearby ruin, Arkngthand."
A Dwemer ruin! I had never been in a ruin before, nor was I particularly anxious to do so.
"Yes...okay."
"Good man. Be on your way, then."
Aggravated by the Drillmaster's condescending tone, I stalked up and out of the unpleasant guild.
Chapter Ten (I'm not giving up yet!)
I trotted out of town and made my way east over the little wooden bridge. As I approached the hill, I noticed a huge, Dwemer bridge leading to what I presumed was Arkngthand. A rather distressed Imperial stood gazing over the side. I approached him with my usual distrustful air I used with Imperials. I was considerably shocked when he pulled out an axe, summoned a tall skeleton and began to run at me.
"Hoy! I'm not here for a fight friend!"
"Die, scoundrel!"
I decided negotiations were not the ticket here. With a nimble leap, I dashed my sword through the bandit's chest and leaped back. He winced in pain, though his armor took most of the blow.
"Aargh!"
"Oof," I puffed, as I dodged the club of the skeleton. What would Lionsmane do? In a brainy burst, I stepped onto the skinny barrier separating the bridge from the long fall below. The bandit lunged at me, but I sidestepped him. He splattered noisily on the rocks below, and his summon vanished with him.
Satisfied with my first real battle on Vvardenfell soil, I approached the door to ruin. A broad dome blocked the entrance, and I glanced around puzzled. Spotting a crank nearby, I gave it an experimental tug. The door opened, and I hurried in before the strange device closed once more.
It was darker than an Alit's spoor inside the ruin. I grabbed a torch from the nearby crate and descended the majestic stairs carefully.
Across from me, two bandits guarded the entrance. A desk and a few crates were behind them, no doubt stuffed with their illegal items. I wished to avoid any extra fighting, so I used a levitate scroll I had obtained before leaving Balmora. I silently flew across the room to a higher, bandit-less balcony with a few large Dwemer desks. I carefully opened one and pocketed the few Dwemer coins inside. These will fetch a pretty penny. Who's to notice them anyway? I grinned and slipped into the skinny chamber next to the desks.
Inside, another short Imperial stood guarding his loot.
"You made a big mistake coming here, Pilgrim."
Withdrawing his sword, he charged me. As I avoided him, I thought to myself. What the hell is this, Imperial Bandit Attack Day? I growled and hit the bandit's head, cleaving his perfectly done head neatly in two.
I panted heavily. After a few quick glances around and pocketing of gems, I noticed the puzzle box sitting lugubriously on a shelf. Removing the trinket and giving the room a last glance, I noticed a razor-sharp, gleaming Dwemer battle axe in a short crate.
I gasped. "This is my lucky day!" I tossed aside my old axe and took up the Dwemer one. Almalexa's grace, if these ruins are so profitable, I should loot them more often! I made a hasty retreat from the room, darted up the stairs before the bandits could notice me, and breathed the fresh air again.
Chapter Eleven
Evening was swiftly approaching, so I activated my boots and sped off back to Balmora. I arrived at the Guild out of breath and panting.
"May I help you?"
I pushed the Breton girl out of my way and continued downstairs.
"May I help--Oh, it's you." The Drillmaster glanced at my sack of belongings eagerly. "Did you bring the box?"
I nodded. Reaching gingerly into my pack, I removed the fragile Dwemer device. Antabolis took it from me and started speaking rapidly.
"All right. The Sixth House is actually House Dagoth. Cosades should know about that. Here are some extra notes." He handed me a piece of parchment and resumed blurting out information.
"The Nerevarine cult I don't know much about, but I know that the Ashlanders, nomads of the Grazelands and such, believe a reincarnation of Nerevar will unite the Dunmer and fight Dagoth Ur. You know, Sharn Gra-Muzgrob from the Mages Guild here in Balmora would know more."
I had barely had time to write everything down in my journal before Antabolis ushered me out of his practice room. "Come back later, I might have something for you!" he yelled as he shut the door in my face.
I trudged back up the stairs and approached the door. No sooner had I touched the handle than the Breton girl jumped in front of me.
"How may I help you?"
I again swallowed an urge to bash her head in and coolly exited the hellish guild.
Outside, I strolled across the bridge and entered Caius' house. Waving a brief hello, he motioned for me to sit down.
"All right. Now what information did you learn?"
That the Fighters Guild members are a bunch of -
"Well?"
I shook myself out of my poetic reverie.
"Sir, Antabolis gave me some notes that have the information."
"Excellent. Let me see them."
I handed him the info.
"Good, good! He says here also that this Gra-Muzgrob should have more info. So how about you go ask her for some?"
"Yessir." I rose and set off doggedly on another mission.
Chapter Twelve
As I made my way across the bridge once more, heavy rain began to fall on the city. I hurried to the tall building of the Mages Guild, standing beside the Fighters Guild (which I gave a nasty look on my way in).
Inside the Guild, I noticed the relative emptiness on the lower level. No unoccupied Bretons stood molesting passerby. My mission, however, was more important than pondering the pastimes of the inhabitants of High Rock. I trotted down the stairs to the wide, open center of the Mages Guild.
A haughty High Elf and a Dunmer stood conversing near the desks. I spotted a shady looking Orc muttering in the corner. Deciding this was my target, I shuffled toward her, sheepishly returning the inquisitive glances of the other Guild members.
"AARGH!"
The Orc gave me a glare only a mage could give.
"I cannot think with these silly interruptions! Leave me alone!"
"Listen, miss." I was very tired of being trod upon by these guild informants. "Caius Cosades sent me to get some information from you. About the Nerevarine and Sixth House cult."
At this, she gave me a more curious and less annoyed glance, though she still tapped her foot on the floor.
"Hmph. Well then. Well. Er."
I waited patiently.
"Well. Hmm. If...yes. All right Nord, I'll give you the information you want."
I grinned. Phew.
"...if you first do me a little favor."
The grin faded off of my face.
"Get me the Skull of Llevule Andrano from the Andrano Ancestral Tomb, and I will tell you of the Nerevarine Cult."
I sighed. "Ok. Directions?"
"You'll find it a bit south of the town of Pelagiad."
And with that, she resumed her studying.
As I stomped back up the stairs irritatedly, I muttered to myself.
"Never join a bloody guild...stupid guild members...think they're so hot...damned Bretons..."
I pushed open the door and bid the guild good riddance.
Chapter Thirteen
The orc's sparse directions annoyed me, but I nonetheless set out southeast to Pelagiad. Using my new boots, I arrived at the town well before dusk.
I stopped the first person I saw, a trim lady Khajiit.
"Pardon me miss, do you happen to know where the Andrano tomb is?"
She smiled cattily.
"Good friend, Ahnassi knows Andrano tomb is just south, before fork to southeast Vivec," the Khajiit purred.
"Thank you." I was a bit saddened by her third person way of speaking, as Lionsmane had still made no second appearance.
Before I had a chance to set off, she stopped me.
"Wait! Does Ahnassi's Nord friend have enchanted blade?"
I shook my head. "My axe is unenchanted."
She nodded gravely. "Ahnassi's friend needs enchanted weapon to kill ghosts and undead!"
"Hmm...thank you again. I suppose there is an enchanter here in town?"
"No enchanter, but enchanted weapon trader, yes yes," she purred again. "Ahnassi show you!"
I let her take my hand and lead me to a dingy looking tavern, where I was presented with a robed Redguard.
"May I interest you in my Netch Spider Blade?" he offered politely.
"Listen, sir, I would just like your cheapest enchanted weapon," I told him quickly.
"Then the Spider Blade's for you. That will be fifty drakes," he announced.
What a rip-off. I handed him the drakes hesitantly, and he gave me the blade. It shone brightly in my hand.
"Thank you," I said to the kind Ahnassi with a smile, and left the tavern before she could drag me to her room.
I began running briskly south to my goal. Just before a fork in the road, a steep hill led to a soft brown dome. This, undoubtedly, was the tomb. I nervously ran my tongue across my teeth, unsheathed my dagger, and stepped inside.
Nothing greeted me at first in the tomb. But it wasn't long until I heard the creaking of bones coming up the skinny ramp. A crippled skeleton creaked into view, sighted, me, and charged.
"Aargh!" I ran my dagger through the skeleton's creaky ribcage. It stopped immediately and flopped to the floor.
Panting, I dashed down the ramp to a small square chamber containing the skull and another enchanted dagger. I grabbed the skull and dagger and, as another skeleton approached, ran helter-skelter back toward the entrance. The undead in the tomb formed a line marching behind me, and I assume we must have looked fairly comical for a few seconds: Me at the head of the pack, a few bonewalkers stumbling behind, and the skeletons bringing up the rear.
I ruined our little parade when I tossed the door open and flopped outside, breathing heavily. The undead apparently couldn't be bothered with the pursuit, for no ghastly face appeared behind me.
Thoroughly exhausted from my first tomb expedition, I set back off to Pelagiad with my freshly acquired skull and dagger.
Chapter Fourteen
It was nighttime when I arrived back in Pelagiad. Only the guards remained stalking the streets, their faces set in the grim smile of the law.
The Halfway Tavern appeared to be the only rest stop, so I wearily went inside and sat down at the bar. The publican, a well-dressed, tall young Dunmer lady, gave me an understanding look.
"We have a room open upstairs. Five gold."
I paid the lady the fee and she escorted me to the chamber.
"Stop for breakfast tomorrow morning!" She waved and returned to her post.
I locked my door and settled down contentedly.
The next morning, I awoke feeling thoroughly refreshed. I slung my pack over my shoulder and headed downstairs.
The publican still stood behind the bar. She smiled sweetly at me.
"Kwama egg and a bit of greef to greet the day?"
I returned the smile. "Just the egg, please."
"Two drakes, honey."
I finished breakfast and exited the pleasant tavern.
It was a gloomy day outside, overcast, with rain undoubtedly on its way. I hurried back onto the road and speedily returned to Balmora.
Back inside the Mages Guild, I set down my belongings for a moment, catching my breath. I hurried downstairs to find the Guild very much the same, the snotty High Elf lady casually chatting with her Dunmer friend, and Sharn murmuring to herself in the corner.
I approached her, and saw the title of her book before she could hide it.
"Legions of the Dead?"
"SHH!"
The Orc loudly hushed me.
"What the hell are you doing, sneaking up on me like this?!" She whispered.
"I saw you reading that Necromancer's book..."
"Quiet! You saw nothing, okay?"
I slyly smiled. "Oh, I didn't?"
"Damn Nord...look, I'll teach you the Summon Skeletal Minion spell!"
"All right. And here's your skull." I removed the skull from my pack and handed it to her.
One hour and one spell lesson later, the shady Orc dismissed me.
"Ok, we each fufilled our ends of the deal."
"And what about the info for Cosades?"
"Ah, right. Here, take these notes I prepared, should tell you everything." She stuffed a piece of paper into my hand. "Now LEAVE ME ALONE!"
I left the strange Gra-Muzgrob to her forbidden studies, and headed back outside.
It was pouring when I exited the guild. I hurried across the bridge to Cosades' house.
The man himself eyed me warily as I shook myself like a dog.
"Hey, watch what you're doing!"
I glanced at the Spymaster and had to keep myself from bursting into laughter: He was quite soaked from my enthusiastic shaking.
"Hem...er, Spymaster, here's the notes from the Orc."
"Good. I was wondering what took you so long."
I handed him the notes, which he scanned briefly and nodded.
"Nice, nice. I'm promoting you to Apprentice of the Blades for your hard work." He removed something from the table behind him.
"Here's a few scrolls: One of Healing, one of Almsivi Intervention, and one of Levitation. Use them wisely."
"Thank you, sir!"
"And now, I'd like to ask you a question."
"Go ahead, sir."
"Do you like travel?"
Chapter Fifteen (i'm on a roll!)
There was an awkward silence as I looked curiously at my employer.
"Uh, I don't really know, Sir. I've never traveled much."
"Hmm. Well, you'd better start to like it, because your next mission is a long way. But you know, I can spare a few drakes for the silt strider. Can't have my new apprentice getting mauled into bits so soon."
"Beg pardon, sir?"
"Oh, you're off to Vivec, of course! To bring back some more information on the Cult and Sixth House."
I sighed inwardly. This guy's obsessed. "Yes sir."
"Don't look so down, Blackstar. You'll get to see the sights! The marvelous city of Vivec! Here!" He shoved a bit of gold into my hand. "Hitch on the strider. You'll need to visit three informants: The Khajiit Addhiranirr, the Argonian Huleeya, and Mehra Milo, a Dunmer Priest. You know what to talk to them about."
"Ok, sir. I'm ready."
"No, you're not. You need better equipment than the [&@%!] you've got right now."
I raised an eyebrow. Spymaster's got a dirty tongue.
"Stop off at Nine-Toes, Rithleen, and Tyermaillin's places here in Balmora. They'll give you some better equipment. And then, you're off!"
Wordlessly, the Spymaster abruptly stopped and plunked down on his bed to read the notes.
I graciously took my leave, and headed to Rithleen's house (which I had passed several times). The Redguard lady inside was very friendly.
"Oh, the Spymaster sent ya? I got something for you." She handed me a cuirass and helm that, by the looks of it, were Imperial Silver. I took them gladly.
"I guess Caius told you to go to Tyer and Toes' places? Save yaself a trip, they're both here for a meeting."
The afternoon passed very pleasantly, the healer High Elf presenting me with various potions, and the hunter Argonian giving me pricey illegal substances. "Good for quick cash," he whispered satisfactorily in my ear.
Once these handsome gifts had been exchanged, I bade my fellow Blades farewell. I set off quite contentedly toward the silt strider, imagining myself quite the handsome fellow in my spiffy new armor. I reached the strider and hailed the driver.
"To Vivec!"
The ride was quite a pleasant change from constantly hoofing it everywhere. The view from the strider was breathtaking, as we strode across pretty grasslands and ashy rocks. As a canton of Vivec loomed into sight, I spoke aloud of my disappointment.
"Gosh, that's awfully small for a city. I was expecting something more...majestic."
The driver smiled.
"That, sir, is but a small portion of the God's city."
As he spoke, we came nearer to the canton, and the others became visible.
I gasped. "That is truly a city for a god!"
We stopped snugly in Vivec's port, and I was let off. I walked slowly toward the first canton, savoring the aesthetic delight of this beautiful place. Its majesty made me feel happier, for as I walked up the ramp to the waistworks, I began whistling an abstract tune.
Chapter Sweet Sixteen
I entered the waistworks and was immediately greeted by some sort of guard in scary armor.
"Move along," he huffed at me.
"Pardon me sir," I hurriedly inserted, "what is the name of this canton?"
"The Foreign Quarter," he puffed in reply, and stalked off somewhere.
O-Kay. I walked through the long hall to a square area, decorated prettily with fountains.
"Excuse me," I said to a Dunmer lady strolling along. She stopped and listened politely.
"I'm looking for three people here in Vivec. The first is an Argonian, Huleeya, the second the Khajiit Addhiranirr, and third the priest Mehra Milo. Do you happen to know where I might find them?"
The Dunmer gave me an inquisitive look.
"Well, Huleeya hangs out at the Black Shalk cornerclub here in the Foreign Quarter. And Mehra Milo's in the Temple canton, pretty far south."
"Thanks. And the Khajiit?"
"Never heard of her, but there's some fella in St. Olms asking around for an Addhiranirr. You might look there."
"Many thanks!" I noticed a sign for the cornerclub on the other side of the room, so I discreetly and innocently removed there.
Inside, I noticed the Argonian being watched by a few mean looking Dunmer.
"Hey, hey!" I shouted to Huleeya, hoping the Dark Elves would back off. They glanced at me and innocently began pvssyring amongst themselves.
I seized the opportunity to speak to the Argonian. But before I had time to introduce myself, he whispered into my ear hastily.
"Whatever you want, you have to help me with these racist thugs!"
"What?...Oh, okay...er..."
I approached the closest Dunmer. "Hey, are you bothering my friend Huleeya here?" I assumed my tallest pose, rising a full foot above the elf.
"Well...uh, a fine gentleman like yourself wouldn't want to associate yourself with that green monster. Trash." He sneered at the poor Argonian.
"Listen, punk." I discretely grabbed his shirt, doing my best tough guy impersonation and making sure his friends were watching. "You leave my friend alone, or else you'll have this--" I displayed my clenched fist--"to answer to. Understand?"
"Ye--yes sir."
"Good." With a satisfied smirk I returned to Huleeya.
"Thanks, friend. Listen, escort me to my friend Jobasha's bookstore, and I'll tell you whatever you need to know."
I nodded. The Argonian slowly and cautiously walked out the door. The Dunmer watched him, but my impression on the leader had apparently gotten the message through to them loud and clear. I followed my informant, giving a sweet smile to the bartender first.
Outside, Huleeya headed across the room. I trotted after him as he glanced around and entered another shop. I followed again.
The bookstore was clean and musty smelling. I was in the middle of an aesthetic inspection when the Argonian interrupted.
"Thanks again. What was it that you wanted to know?"
I cleared my throat. "I just wanted a bit of information about the Sixth House and Nerevarine Cult."
"What? Oh, sure, sure. Hold on a sec.." He rushed downstairs for a moment and returned with some notes.
"Here. I scribbled some important stuff down for you."
"Oh, thanks."
"Anything else?"
"No, that's it. I appreciate your help."
"And I yours. Bye bye!"
"One down, two to go," I muttered under my breath as I left the bookstore.
Chapter Seventeen
My next goal was the Khajiit. I trotted out of the waistworks and back down the ramp to the gondolier.
"St. Olms canton, please," I huffed.
"No can do, sir. I go as far as the Arena canton, but a bridge there connects to Olms."
I sighed. "All right then. Let's move!"
We docked at the Arena's little rope bridge leading up to the canton. I briskly thanked the gondolier and hurried up the bridge.
The Arena's gondolier was the first person I saw, so I asked her about the location of the bridge.
"Go a bit that way," she pointed. "Leads right to the canton."
"Thanks!"
After much running and hurried nodding to Vivec's uniquely armored guards, I arrived in the St. Olms waistworks. It was fairly silent, with only the brisk trotting of the guards and the few civilians' footsteps.
An Imperial stood near a fountain, often glancing around the room. As I walked by, he stopped me.
"Hello, friend. Have you seen a Khajiit named Addhiranir? She's...uh, my friend, and I'm looking around for her."
I raised an eyebrow. It was evident from his mannerisms that he wasn't her friend.
"Oh, well, she's gone to the mainland, haven't you heard?"
"Gone to the...oh. Well. Thanks." With that, he awkwardly dashed out of the Waistworks. I hope I did the right thing...
After some more asking around for the Khajiit, a few people mentioned that shady characters hang out in the underworks, the extensive sewer system under all of the cantons. I hurried down the steps to the canolworks, and down further to the underworks.
It was black as night down there, but luckily I had a torch handy. The squeaking of rats alerted me to a trim figure standing near the trapdoor to the canolworks.
"Addhiranir?" I queried cautiously.
She jumped. "Who? Who calls Addhiranir's name?"
"I'm just looking for information. Information that I think you have," I said as delicately as possible.
"Addhiranir is busy right now, busy hiding from Census agent. Cannot talk."
"Wait...there was an Imperial up in the waistworks asking for you. Was that him?"
"Yes, agent has been following Addhiranir."
"Good. I told him you'd left for the mainland."
She let out a contended purr.
"Really? Excellent. Addhiranir will tell you anything you need to know."
After a bit of hurried querying, Addhiranir informed me that the Sixth House was smuggling something into Vvardenfell. "But no one knows what," she murmured.
I accompanied her back to the Canolworks. "Addhiranir thanks you once more."
"Think nothing of it," I said chivalrously, and hurried upstairs. Just one left.
Chapiter Eighteen (my baby's all growed up)
I emerged lightheartedly from the waistworks. All that remained was a little skip and a hop over to the Temple canton. It was connected via bridge to St. Olms, which allowed me easy passage.
I was astonished by the sheer beauty of the temple canton. The towering, majestic statues, the hovering Ministry of Truth, the beautiful Palace of Vivec gleaming in the evening sunset just behind the Temple. Truly, I must return here again.
An Ordinator stopped me as I approached.
"What is your business here?" He hissed.
"I'm here to speak with Mehra Milo," I notified him steadfastly.
He released me. "Very well," he said suspiciously, letting me pass.
Such a friendly welcoming crew... Inside the High Fane, I trotted up the stairs to the Library of Vivec. Mehra Milo, along with some Ordinators and Dunmer assistants occupied the small, book filled room.
"Hello! A friend of mine sent me to-"
"Shh! No talking in the library," she said hastily, glancing at the guards. "Let's go to the back room."
I followed her to the secluded area.
"Sorry. I'm being watched by those rotten Ordinators. What is it you wanted to know?"
"About the Sixth House cult."
"Oh, yes."
She hurriedly filled in some information that the other informants couldn't give. "And I also suggest you bring a copy of..." She looked at the Ordinators again. "The Progress of Truth. Buy a copy at Jobasha's bookstore," she whispered to me.
"Well, I'm sorry, we don't have a copy of Boethiah's Pillow book here. How scandalous!" She said loudly. One of the assistants giggled.
I smiled. "Well then, I suppose I'll look somewhere else. Thanks for your time." Milo ushered me out.
I traveled speedily back to the Foreign Quarter. Jobasha's..that's where I took Huleeya! I raced into the bookstore and arrived in front of the Khajiit bookseller.
"A copy..." I panted, "of the Progress of Truth, please." I paid the curious Jobasha and hid the book in my pack. Mehra had told me the book happened to be banned.
Outside again, I glanced in my pack. I had enough money to take the silt strider back to Balmora. Thank goodness, I've had plenty of walking as it is! I climbed aboard the strider and we set off back to the city. That, I thought to myself happily as we strode along, was an extremely satisfying trip.
Chapter Nineteen (see, told you)
I arrived back in Balmora shortly before nightfall. The beautiful evening vista was beyond anything I've ever seen on the mainland. Pinkish tints settled sleepily on the horizon, tinting the dimming blue sky.
I stepped off the silt strider once we connected with the port. Savoring my time as I walked toward Caius' house, I noticed a thief cut a heavy purse from a noble. The sneaky thief was almost successful, before a Hlaalu guard spotted him and raised the alarm. The criminal past me, dropping his purse near my feet. The others, hot in pursuit, didn't seem to notice. After they passed me, I innocently pocketed the purse. Is this not a perfect example of nature's evening out the classes?
Nothing else particularly eventful happened on my route to the Spymaster's house (nor, after my not-perfectly-legal acquirement of the purse, had I wished for extra excitement). Cosades greeted me with a hearty pat on the back.
"Well, well well. How's my apprentice doing? Had a fun trip?"
I nodded.
"You were right, sir. Vivec is marvelous."
"Hmm, I thought you'd think so! Well, what's your report?"
I gave him the notes, an oral report of my other discoveries, and the Progress of Truth.
"Goodness me. You've been very thorough. I'm promoting you to Journeyman for your promising work." He gave me a curious glance. "Anyway, to keep your cover up, you'll need to do some guild or faction work. Even if you go to a few towns, get a solid, casual reputation. I think you know what I mean."
"Yes, Spymaster."
"Well, get to it! Come back in a few days, weeks, whenever you're ready."
His tone effectively told me to not let the door hit me in my backside on the way out. I walked out of the door and toward the inn. I needed a fresh start before my adventures tomorrow.
The next morning I awoke feeling quite chipper. However, I heard footsteps outside of my door, pacing cautiously around outside. I grabbed my Dwemer axe and opened the door. Nothing...wait...what was that?
"You N'wah!"
Chapter 20
A lithe Dunmer assassin rushed me head on. I narrowly avoided him by stepping back into my room and locking the door. What the? His armor covered his whole body, and I could only tell his race by his husky voice. He pounded on the door, chanting his "n'wah" the whole time. This calls for smart, not brawn.
I dived under the bed just in time before the assassin rushed into the room. As he hunted for me, I held my breath. At the last minute, as he turned to inspect the wardrobe, I sprung out and tackled him.
"Stooopid," he groaned before I gave him a clean decapitation. Best to leave it for the housekeeping.
Outside the Lucky Lockup, I stopped the first guard I saw.
"Excuse me. Did you see a man wearing this helmet enter the Lockup?" I held up the pitch black, strange looking helmet.
"That?.that's a Brotherhood helmet, sir," he stuttered. "If you've got the Brotherhood after you, you'd better watch out."
"The Brotherhood?" I questioned.
"The Dark Brotherhood," he explained nervously. "You'd better talk to Apelles in Ebonheart about this. Stuff on the mainland." And with that, he hurried off.
Chicken guard, I told myself as I headed toward the arch out of Balmora. I don't have time to investigate this right now. But if I'm ever short on adventures, well, I know where to go.
I glanced again at the strange helmet in my hand. Obviously, it was a helmet for an assassin, light yet thick as tough animal hide. Why am I being hunted? I've neither offended any authoritative powers nor even stuck my head near Ebonheart. This must be unrelated to my current work. I stuffed the helm in my pack. No time. First and foremost are a few adventures. With that thought stuck firmly in my head, I marched out of the city.
Chapter 21
Dawn crept over the dusty hills as I nonchalantly hiked my way east. The most annoying factor was the abundance of cliff racers, large pesky hawk-like creatures found all over Vvardenfell. Every hour I was bound to run into a few. I'd be trotting innocently along when I heard a husky squawk. I'd glance all around before looking up to see a racer slowly lowering down on me. They weren't too tough to beat - a little axe work near the neck did the job nicely. No particularly profitable ingredient or material could be harvested from them, except perhaps a few of their huge plumes.
It wasn't long after my departure from Balmora that I encountered a humble door nestled in a majestic hill. A cave? It must be? I cautiously entered.
It was extremely dark inside, but luckily I had plenty of torches left over from my Arkngthand expedition. I lit one and continued in the little tunnel.
A Dunmer clothed in some cheap hide armor leaned on the cave wall, apparently unaware of my entrance. I tapped him on the shoulder and he leaped around.
"You n'wah," he hissed, unsheathing a dangerous looking dagger. Aw, not even a dramatic "friend or foe?" greeting?
As I avoided his blows and coolly removed my axe, I inwardly chuckled. N'wah must be a favored insult for the dark elf folk. The Dunmer crippled to the ground as I gave him a solid pound with my axe. As I did so, I noticed a bulge in his pocket. Reaching inside, I felt a few gems and pulled them out. Gems?aha! A smugglers cave! I realized.
I had a couple similar encounters with two Redguards with similar treasures in their pockets and packs. This could be almost as lucrative as looting ruins. A final armored Bosmer was at the end of the winding cave, accompanied by some heavy crates. No doubt with some nice stuff inside, thought I as the wood elf fell with an "Arghh!"
I was a bit disappointed to find just a few amulets and bottles of booze in the crates, but was nevertheless satisfied with both my progressing prowess and resulting profit. I made a dainty exit, side stepping innocently past the bodies. That was my idea of fun. After a quick brush with a cliff racer outside, I was back on my way, using only the sun to guide me east to unexplored areas.
Night fell quickly. Afternoon turned into golden evening, and evening to velvet night. I had no camping gear, so I had to make do with huddling under the dome around an ancestral tomb entrance. Strangely enough, I was quite content with my surroundings. The animals gave me a satisfactory berth, apparently deciding I was some sort of skeleton ornamenting the doorway. I guess I really do like living in the wild. It just seems like I'm at home out here, I thought to myself sleepily. Must?continue?east?after?resting?
