That's so no one forgets it's only a game and wets their pants.

Angel says;

Hi Ada,

I discovered your biography and you are my new hero. I can't wait for the second volume to come out.

I too have a little story about me but it's not nearly as interesting as yours, If you're interested, it's in the Arcane University Archive here;http://www.gamesas.com/bgsforums/index.php?showtopic=862718.


If you make it back to Cyrodill, please come visit me. You must try my delicious Apple-Berry Juice.

Angel, Conjurer - Mages Guild
Benirus Manor, Anvil

Aaaaaah, you are the same Helena who wrote that KOTOR parody I remember giggling helplessly over a few years back! So cool to see you writing for MW, this is great! ^_^

Wow, I never realised there was so much crossover between fans of KotOR and the Elder Scrolls games. (Hmm, now there's a thought - a Morrowind/Star Wars crossover fic.) Glad you're enjoying the story, anyway - though I think you already know how it ends...

bobg, I read a couple of chapters of your fic - your writing is good, but I found it hard to get into the story without knowing the background to the 'Angel' character. I may take another look later on when I have more time!

I just wanted to let you know about another devoted fan. No expectations.

Angels background didn't really start to be revealed until the fifth post. (possible newb writers error.) The perspective for Angel was more from how a doting father might want the perfect daughter to be. I genuinely don't understand the weaker six but prefer thinking about them to thinking about hairy legged guys. That's why I am really enjoying Adas' reactions to situations I am familiar with. Thanks for sharing.

Or even an RP!!! It's be awesome to be a lightsaber wielding argonian or something, lol

Chapter 13: Death And Taxes

Darius rewarded me for my help by promoting me to Trooper, and gave me a fine steel tower shield from the Legion's armoury. I'd really have preferred a new cuirass, but I certainly wasn't complaining, especially since I could make a decent amount of gold by selling the old shield. He also gave me my next orders: go back to the eggmine and cure the infected queen of Blight disease so that the mine could be reopened.

I did have slightly more skill in Restoration than other forms of magic, so I thought of learning a Cure Blight spell myself, but I couldn't find anyone to teach me one. Instead I bought some spell scrolls from the Redoran village steward, making a mental note to ask about spells next time I was back in Ald'ruhn (apart from anything else, I really didn't want a repeat of yesterday's 'adventure' next time I was out in the wilderness). I went back to the part of the mine where I'd seen the kwama queen, and cast the spell scroll from what I hoped was a safe distance. The angry buzzing subsided a little, so I assumed she'd been cured ? no doubt it would be easy for the miners to tell.

Just as I was about to leave the mine, I spotted a narrow passage leading off to the left from the queen's 'chamber'. Wondering what was down there, I followed the passage and came across another small wooden door set into the rock. I opened the door a little way so that I could peer through, and gasped in amazement at what I saw.

The inside of this part of the cave looked exactly like Arkngthand, the Dwemer ruin near Fort Moonmoth: sheet-metal flooring, and the walls lined with pipes and those weird glass-tube lamps. On a rusty iron table near the entrance was a heavy-looking book titled Divine Metaphysics, and some plans for what looked like an airship. I carefully opened the book and leafed through the first few pages, but the writing was all in Dwemeris and I couldn't understand a word of it. A book like this had to be incredibly valuable ? if you could find the right buyer.

Further into the cave was a bubbling pool of lava set into the metal floor. As I drew closer the heat became almost unbearable, to the point where I had to take off my cuirass before I could go any further. I edged round the side of the pool, trying to get closer to the strange metal object lying beside it.

The thing was one of the strangest Dwemer devices I had ever seen: a sort of statue, vaguely human-shaped but made entirely out of golden metal. It had a trunk, legs, a 'head', and an arm with a huge spiked club welded to the end where its hand ought to be. Lying face-down on the ground with its arms splayed out, it looked for all the world as if it was dead. I felt shivers down my spine just looking at it.

At that moment it occurred to me that I probably wasn't supposed to be there, and that someone could come in and find me at any minute. I hastily left the cavern, informed one of the miners that the queen was cured, and went back to Darius to tell him the good news.

"Good," he said briskly. "Take these 100 drakes as a reward. Now just what the devil have you been doing to your uniform, Trooper?"

Startled, I looked down at my torn cuirass. I'd forgotten how it had got ripped when I was attacked in the mine. "Sorry, sir," I said, embarrassed. "It was the kwama warriors in the eggmine."

"Hmph. Well, you're a good soldier; maybe you should have a better one." He left the room for a couple of minutes and came back with ? joy of joys ? a Legion steel cuirass. I breathed in deeply as he handed it over to me; ever since I was a child I'd dreamed of wearing one of these. I held it with trembling hands, admiring the fine steelwork and beautiful decorative plating on the front, until the General told me to stop gawping and get back to work.

I was very hungry by now, so I decided to rest and eat before doing any more missions. By the time I left the tradehouse, the villagers had heard about the mine being re-opened, and I found I was a minor local celebrity. Even those who hadn't heard the news seemed to be looking at me with newfound respect, now that I wore a Legion uniform. If I'd realised the benefits of joining the Legion back in Cyrodiil, I'd have joined long ago.

After dinner I went back to Darius to ask if he had any more orders for me. He told me that the Legion's tax collector, Ragash gra-Shuzgub, had vanished during a visit to Arvs Drelen, the Velothi tower on the outskirts of town. "Who lives there?" I asked.

"Baladas Demnevanni, a rogue Telvanni wizard. Came here over twenty years ago and set himself up in Arvs Drelen." He shook his head. "Be careful around old Baladas, Trooper. He's been no trouble so far, but I don't trust him."

I'd got the impression that Gnisis was Redoran territory, so I wondered why they allowed a Telvanni wizard to live there. Perhaps the Council in Ald'ruhn simply couldn't face the hassle of trying to have him turfed out.

I went straight over to the old Velothi tower, a round building constructed in a similar style to the Temple. It certainly looked out of place among the Redoran-style buildings of the village. Inside, the place appeared deserted, but a short way along the first corridor I found a door leading to an underground cell. The iron bars on the door and windows allowed the jailer a full view of the tiny room.

A glum-looking female Orc in a Legion uniform sat on a hammock inside the cell. When she saw me, she waved frantically as if she were afraid I wouldn't notice her there. "Hey! Baladas Demnevanni locked me up in here. Can you get me out?"

I messed around with the lock on the cell door for a minute or two, but soon realised that it was far beyond my lock-picking skills (and even further beyond my Alteration skills). "Wait here for a moment," I told her, "and I'll look for a key."

At the top of a ramp on the other side of the passage was a wooden door. I pressed my ear against it to listen for anyone ? or anything ? that might be inside, then knocked cautiously. No one answered.

I pushed open the door ? it wasn't locked, surprisingly enough ? and found myself in what was clearly a bedroom. Lying on a small bedside table, next to a copy of The Wolf Queen, Book V, was a key which obviously belonged to some sort of door. Surely it couldn't be that easy?

I took the key and returned to Ragash's cell to try it in the lock, but I couldn't make it fit. "Damn," I announced. "This isn't the right key. Do you know where Baladas is now?"

She jabbed a finger upwards towards the ceiling. "Up there someplace. I just came to collect taxes as I was told, and he lock me up in this room!"

Poor Ragash; it was clear that she wasn't particularly bright, even by Orc standards. I could just imagine her stubbornly demanding the taxes from Baladas, not realising that there are times when it's best just to let these things go. It wouldn't surprise me if some smartarse in the Legion had deliberately chosen her for the task.

I made my way through the winding corridors of Arvs Drelen, ignoring the interesting noises coming from some of the doors I passed (just what the hell was this wizard keeping as pets?), and finally reached another locked door leading to an upper level. I tried the key again, and this time it actually fit ? probably a good thing, as I could see that the door was enchanted with some kind of magical trap to deter intruders.

As the door swung open I heard a deep growl, and found myself facing one of the crocodile-headed Daedra known as a Daedroth. I leapt backwards with a gasp, grabbing my sword, but amazingly enough the thing didn't seem interested in attacking me. It just paced around the room, growling and waving its arms around in a vaguely threatening manner.

Very, very carefully, I inched my way across the room ? staying as far away from the horrible beast as possible ? and up the next flight of stairs to the top level of Arvs Drelen. This was a large workroom of some kind, containing several cupboards, bookshelves and tables covered in clutter. There was no one in sight, but in one corner was a large, gold-plated metal sphere that seemed somehow familiar.

I took a few steps towards the strange object, then let out a small screech of fear as it suddenly rolled over ? entirely of its own accord ? and began to unfold itself. Within seconds it had taken on the shape of that weird metal 'man' I had seen in the eggmine, only this one was? alive. I stared at it, paralysed with horror, as it rolled back and forth across the ground with a faint whirring sound. What the bloody hell?

Clockwork, I told myself, trying to stay calm and ignore my frantically-thumping heart. Clockwork and? magic of some kind. Had to be. At least it didn't seem to be trying to kill me, though it was a full minute before I dared move again for fear of 'upsetting' the strange mechanical creature.

Once I'd managed to convince myself that the thing was harmless, I relaxed a little and began to examine the room more closely. It was littered with the tools of the wizard's trade ? full and empty bottles, alembics, bizarre alchemical ingredients, and books. Lots and lots of books.

I took a closer look at one which was lying open on the shelf: The Dragon Break Re-Examined. "The late 3rd era was a period of remarkable religious ferment and creativity," it began. "The upheavals of the reign of Uriel VII were only the outward signs of the historical forces that would eventually lead to the fall of the Septim Dynasty..."

Hang on, 'late 3rd Era'? 'Fall of the Septim Dynasty'? Unless I had been spectacularly misinformed, this was the Third Era, and Uriel Septim VII was still very much in power. As I read on, I suddenly realised what the author was doing: the book was written from the perspective of some imaginary future historian, looking back on the Third Era. How very? curious.

"Ahem," said a gruff voice behind me.

I whirled round and found myself face-to-face with a genuine Telvanni mage for the first time. By appearances he was an ordinary, rather grumpy-looking middle-aged Dunmer, but at the same time there was something ageless about him that I couldn't quite put my finger on. Remembering what Caius had said about 'thousand-year-old wizards', it made me wonder just how old ? and powerful ? he really was.

"Ah. Excuse me," I said, slightly embarrassed to have been caught examining his private stuff. "Baladas, er? Demnevanni?"

"Speaking," he said coldly. "Hurry up."

I decided not to bother with introductions. "I was sent here by General Darius, sera. You, er, seem to have taken one of our soldiers prisoner."

Baladas frowned. "She came demanding tribute for the Empire of men. I was here before Gnisis, before the Empire of men; I will be here after Gnisis is gone and after this short-lived Empire has crumbled. The people of Gnisis live only because I tolerate them. Why should I pay tribute?"

Something told me that appealing to this guy's sense of civic duty probably wasn't going to work. "I'm sure it was just a misunderstanding," I said soothingly. "Anyway, surely she'll have learned her lesson by now?"

"What? So soon?" he said with a snort. "Even the short-lived Orcs need time to reflect on their transgressions."

Oh dear, this wasn't going too well. "Please, Ser Baladas," I said, trying to sound respectful rather than desperate. "Let her go and no one will trouble you again."

He scowled. "You trouble me now. Do you think I have nothing better to do than listen to such lies? Leave now, or you shall join the Orc in my prison."

"Okay, okay," I said, raising my hands. "But before I go, please could I just ask you something? Are you interested in the Dwemer, by any chance?"

As I had expected, he looked a little taken aback by the question. "Yes, I have studied the Dwemer for many centuries. What is your reason for asking me this?"

"I was just wondering if you'd heard of a book called Divine Metaphysics?"

The sour-faced wizard caught his breath, and I immediately saw that I'd struck gold. "You have a copy?" he asked almost hoarsely.

"I don't, but I know where you can get one," I said. "But you'll have to let Ragash go first."

Baladas hesitated only a second before handing me a key from the pocket of his robe. "Very well, here is the key. Now tell me where to find the book ? and if I find you have lied, be sure that I will kill you."

"Okay. You know the eggmine up on the hill?" He nodded. "Inside there, some of the workers have uncovered a Dwemer ruin. I saw a copy of the book and some kind of airship plans. You'd better get there quickly before someone comes and takes them away."

He still looked suspicious, but finally nodded. "Very well. Now leave, and take the Orc with you."

I hurried back downstairs before he could change his mind. A crazed wizard who lived alone with tame Daedroths and strange Dwemer machines was not someone you wanted to mess with.

Poor Ragash nearly cried when I came to free her from her cell. "Thank you so much," she said when we were finally outside the building. "You help me escape from that crazy guy. I thought I'd never get out again."

"You okay? He didn't set his pet Daedroth on you or anything like that?"

She shook her head. "Go tell Darius that I'm okay."

Darius was happy to hear that I'd got Ragash out safely, and rewarded me with a promotion to Agent and a Legion helmet and gauntlets. If I went on like this, pretty soon I'd have the whole set. "Are you ready for further orders?" he asked me.

Well, why not? "Yes, sir!" I said, throwing caution to the winds.

"Well, I suspect there is something going on with some of my troopers. Informants have told me of a conspiracy brewing involving the Talos Cult."

"Talos Cult, sir?" I was confused. It's more common to worship the Nine as a group, of course, but there are cults devoted to individual Gods and Goddesses all over the Empire. "Are they dangerous?"

He shook his head. "They are a group that reveres Tiber Septim. It's not the group as a whole that concerns me, but rumours of a conspiracy within the membership. Talk to your fellow soldiers and see if you can find out more."

I obediently set off for the barracks, though I couldn't imagine what kind of conspiracy a bunch of Talos-worshippers could be involved in. The few I'd met before had been almost fanatically devoted to the Empire, as you'd expect from people who worship a former Emperor. Unless they'd gone crazy and decided we need to exterminate all Dunmer or Argonians or something? actually, yeah, I could kind of see Talos-worshippers doing that.

I didn't have much experience with infiltrating religious cults, but I guessed it wasn't a good idea to just barge in and start asking leading questions. Instead I joined the other Legionnaires as they ate their evening meal, sloshed around a good deal of ale, and ended up recounting my daring rescue of Ragash gra-Shuzgub from the fiendish wizard Baladas. (I'll admit that my account may not have been 100% factually accurate.)

"?so I said to him, 'Listen, you Telvanni bastard. Let her go right now or I'll shove this longsword up where the sun don't shine!'" There was a general roar of laughter and approval, and one of the soldiers handed me another drink. I just hoped I could get out of Gnisis before this version of the story got back to Baladas.

"So," I said casually to the guy sitting next to me, once the conversation had moved on. "You guys worship Talos, right? I heard something about a cult."

The soldier, an Orc, looked a bit uncomfortable. "Look, I'm not really into it, OK?"

"No?" I said, acting disappointed. "You can't tell me how to join, then?"

He sighed. "Talk to Oritius Maro. That's all I'm saying."

The next morning I tracked down Oritius Maro, one of the few other Imperials in the Gnisis branch of the Legion, and asked about the cult. Immediately his face lit up. "Yes, we are those who worship the true following of the Legions. Protecting the Glory of Tiber Septim, Talos, the Dragonborn."

"I've always admired Tiber Septim," I told him. "Truly the greatest Emperor of all time." (Actually I've always preferred Alessia, but he didn't need to know that.)

Maro looked pleased. "I heard about you and the wizard, sister. Perhaps you could be of some use to us. Do you have interest in becoming a member of the Talos Cult?"

I nodded, and he handed me a key. "This will unlock the door to the shrine downstairs. Look in the storeroom for the door. While you're there, speak with Arius Rulician, and he'll tell you more."

Well, that was surprisingly easy. I went to the storeroom and found the door he was talking about ? actually a trapdoor down into a small basemant area. There was nothing much there apart from a shrine to Talos, guarded by a single Imperial soldier who was presumably Arius Rulician.

"Ah, so you've spoken to Oritius?" he said when I introduced myself. "We are always interested in meeting those who sympathise with our cause. Feel free to look around and hear of our plans."

He left the room before I had a chance to ask what those 'plans' might be ? I got the impression that he thought I already knew. Anyway, I didn't know what he was doing or how long he'd be gone for, but the opportunity was too good to pass up.

The only things I could see on the shrine were a sword, a collection plate, and a small wooden strongbox with a heavy lock. A quick examination of the lock showed that it was actually a fairly simple one, and it took only seconds for me to spring it with one of my picks. The only thing inside was a brief note written by Oritius Maro:

There are rumours that Uriel will be visiting Vvardenfell in person. If so, we must act sooner than anticipated. We must watch his actions carefully and strike if the opportunity presents itself. We must also recruit more and swear them to the oath: That we shall die to put a strong man back on the throne of Tamriel.

Burn this note.

Oritius

I blinked a few times, overcome with a sudden sense of being stuck in a bad novel. If I'd read that correctly, Oritius was talking about assassinating Uriel VII and replacing him with a 'stronger' Emperor. Surely this kind of thing didn't actually happen, in this day and age?

I read the letter through once more to be sure I hadn't misread it, but there was no mistaking the phrase 'put a strong man back on the throne of Tamriel'. They were planning to kill the Emperor. I felt my hands shake slightly as I realised what I'd got myself mixed up in. Okay, so they'd probably overestimated the chances of Uriel making a state visit to Darkest Vvardenfell, but still ? this was treason.

Unfortunately, Arius chose that moment to come back and see me holding the note. If I'd thought more quickly I might have been able to save the situation ? "Right on, brother, death to the Emperor!" ? but I was just too shocked. He spotted the open box, saw the expression on my face, and immediately drew his sword.

The fight that followed was short and brutal. There wasn't much space to move around, or even swing a sword properly, so all we could do was hack at each other while desperately trying to defend with our shields. Arius was fighting for his life ? he knew what was likely to happen if anyone else found out about this ? so there wasn't much chance of him surrendering. It was pure luck that I managed to get in the first blow, and that it managed to penetrate the chainmail armour he was wearing.

To make matters worse, Oritius Maro was the first person to greet me as I hauled myself out of the trapdoor. He saw the blood on my sword and cuirass, and let out a roar of fury as he realised what had happened. Another brief and violent struggle followed, and again it was mostly my superior armour that saved the day ? boy was I glad Darius had given me that steel cuirass.

By this time several other Legionnaires had come running to see what was going on. There were gasps of horror at the sight of Maro's body, and I realised I had to get out of here now. "Murder! Treason! Conspiracy!" I shrieked, and then bolted for the door before anyone could react, leaving them staring after me in bemusemant. I was already at the door of the tradehouse by the time I heard sounds of pursuit.

Back in Darius' office, I showed him the now rather bloodstained note and did my best to give him a coherent account of what had happened. "A conspiracy against the Emperor?" he exclaimed in disbelief. "Thank the Divines you found this evidence. And that you managed to bring justice to the traitors." He shook his head. "It saddens me that this could happen to men under my command."

"Did you have any idea this was going on, sir?"

Again he shook his head. "We all swore to serve the Emperor, no matter what happens. Well, you've earned my gratitude, Agent. For this I believe you deserve promotion to the rank of Champion."

I was astonished, hardly knowing whether to feel gratified or uncomfortable. Champion was quite a high rank, certainly not one you'd expect to reach after only two days in the Legion. I could only hope my fellow soldiers wouldn't resent me for being promoted over their heads like that.

Darius gave me two fine Imperial steel pauldrons to complete the set, and after cleaning and polishing my armour, I finally stood resplendent in my full Legion uniform. I held out my shield in front of me to admire my reflection, and felt a stab of pride. Who would have thought that less than a month ago I'd been languishing in a prison cell? I couldn't wait to see the look on Caius Cosades' face when he heard about this.

Since Darius didn't have any more tasks for a Legion Champion, I decided to leave Gnisis the following morning, and set out to visit the Shrine of Valour in the Koal Cave. It wasn't far from the village, but it took me quite a long time to find the entrance, tucked away between some rocks by the waterside. The book told me that "only experienced and capable adventurers should attempt to re-enact the epic battle with the dreugh in the cave", so I decided to give that a miss. If I ever felt an uncontrollable urge to fight a dreugh, I could always come back later on.

I took the next morning's silt strider back to Ald'ruhn, arriving late in the evening. The streets were still filled with people, and once again I noticed the difference in their attitude now that I wore a Legion uniform. It was particularly obvious with the Redoran guards I passed ? where once they'd just have ignored me, or looked at me with mild suspicion, they now nodded to me with grudging respect as I walked by. Why the heck did I wait so long to join the Legion?

Neminda raised her eyebrows when I entered the Council hall in my new get-up. "Well, don't you look smart," she said approvingly. "You must have been busy since I last saw you."

"I'll say," I said. "Let's see, I? fought off a bandit attack, rescued a pilgrim from some Ashlanders, solved a murder case, helped a guy who'd had his pants stolen ? "

"His pants?"

"Yes. It's a long story," I told her. "Anyway, where was I? Ah yes? freed a kidnapped tax collector, nearly died of a fever, and cured the Gnisis eggmine's queen of blight disease. Oh, and foiled a plot to kill the Emperor."

Neminda's mouth was hanging open. "You're not serious."

"I am too," I said.

"A plot. To kill. The Emperor?" she repeated, with obvious skepticism.

"That's right. Why do you think I'm Champion of Fort Darius now?" I showed her the band on my arm indicating my rank.

Neminda stared at it for several seconds, as if she couldn't quite believe what she was seeing, then finally pulled herself together. "Well, then, I guess it's probably time to talk about your advancement in House Redoran."

We went off to one of the practice rooms, where I demonstrated my combat skills to Neminda by sparring with her for a while. She was good, but I managed to hold my own pretty well. "Not bad," she said at last. "You're as good as me ? maybe better. Perform a few more tasks for the House and you should rise through the ranks pretty quickly."

She promoted me to Oathman of House Redoran, and reminded me that I'd need a sponsor once I reached the next rank. In the meantime, she gave me a book called The Red Book of 3E 426, containing the names and residences of all the Redoran councillors.

I opened the book and read the first name on the page: "Archmaster Lord Bolvyn Venim, by Grace of Almsivi, Chief Councilor of Redoran Council, Vvardenfell District, Lord Ald'ruhn of Bolvyn Manor, Manor District, Ald'ruhn, District of Vvardenfell, Province of Morrowind." Bloody hell, that was a lot of titles. I hoped I wouldn't have to run through them all every time I spoke to him.

It was still fairly early in the evening, so I decided to try out one of the local taverns. I'd already drunk several times at a place called the Ald Skar Inn, which was nice enough, but thought I'd try somewhere different for a change. After returning to the Fighters' Guild to change out of my uniform, I set out to look for a tavern, and finally ended up in a place called The Rat In The Pot.

The moment I entered the tavern, I could tell that it wasn't exactly the most upmarket place in the city. In fact, judging by the surprisingly high number of non-Dunmer in the place, I suspected it was probably the local Thieves' Guild hangout. Still, the owner ? a Breton named Lirielle Stoine ? was friendly enough, and eager to pass on the latest Ald'ruhn gossip.

"Did you hear Bolvyn Venim killed another outlander in a duel?" she asked me. "Terrible, isn't it?"

Hang on, I'd just seen that name in the Red Book. "Bolvyn Venim? The Redoran Archmaster?"

"That's right," said Narile Sadoro, one of the other patrons. "The man was an officer in the House Guard, but Venim insulted his ancestors at a meal, so of course he had to demand satisfaction."

"He? did?"

Lirielle nodded sadly. "And of course he had no chance against Venim. So it was murder, really."

"You're an outlander, yes?" Narile asked me. "Then take warning ? be very careful in your dealings with Venim. Or better yet, stay away from him."

Oh, wonderful. I leave one House because their leader is a lecherous pervert, only to find that the head of my new House is a rabid xenophobe. Well, if he thought that little trick was going to work on me, he was going to be disappointed. I didn't even know who my ancestors were, so he could insult them all he liked as far as I was concerned.

"Talking of Venim," Lirielle said confidentially, "I heard that he's been having an aff-"

She broke off suddenly, and I followed her gaze to the young Dunmer man who had just entered the tavern. By the look of him he was a few years younger than me, probably no more than twenty. He was simply dressed, and wore his hair in that weird spiked row that seemed to be the fashion among Dunmer youth, but I could spot a rich kid posing as a commoner at fifty paces. Probably a son of one of the Redoran nobles under Skar ? that would explain why Lirielle had shut up so quickly.

But what really struck me about the man was how deeply, deeply unhappy he looked. I don't think he even noticed me sitting there; he just went straight up to Lirielle and said something in a low voice. She handed him a tankard, and he gulped down the entire thing within seconds, then ordered another and sat down with his back to everyone else in the room.

I sipped my own drink and stared at the miserable figure hunched over the table, wondering what was up with the poor guy. A short while later, a couple of Redoran guards came in and took a seat at a nearby table. I struck up another conversation with Lirielle, and one of the guards came over to order a drink, so neither of us really noticed when the Dunmer man left the room for a few minutes. On his return he sat down, took a few sips of his drink, and then suddenly slumped forward across the table.

"My goodness," said Lirielle. "He hasn't had that much to drink." Her face paled slightly. "I hope he hasn't ? "

I hurried to the young man's side and checked his pulse, which was strong, then tried to wake him by gently shaking his shoulder. He murmured something, but didn't wake up. "I think he's just asleep," I announced. "Probably had a few drinks before coming in here ? "

One of the guards practically shoved me aside. "Do not concern yourself with this, outlander. We will take him home." Well, sheesh, I thought. I was just trying to help.

The rest of us watched as the guards lifted the man from his seat and half-dragged, half-carried him out of the tavern. Once they were gone, Lirielle nudged me. "That's young Varvur, Lord Sarethi's son," she told me. "People are saying he murdered Bralen Carvaren, but I don't believe it. They were the best of friends."

Goodness. No wonder he'd looked a bit upset.

Narile nodded. "They used to come in here often to drink and meet women, as young men do. We pretended not to know who they were, of course, but it was an open secret." She shook her head. "But Varvur Sarethi is a nice boy. It's all very sad."

I wondered if the young man I'd just seen really was a murderer. He didn't look like one, but? well, according to the law, I was a murderer. Combine a short temper with a weapon and an excess of alcohol, and it's all too easy to make a life-destroying mistake.

:goodjob:
Keep it up!

Well another brilliant chapter added to the story, keep it up!

Screenshots galore!

http://i50.photobucket.com/albums/f332/ecucej/MGEScreenshot7.jpg
http://i50.photobucket.com/albums/f332/ecucej/MGEScreenshot9.jpg
And just for fun: http://i50.photobucket.com/albums/f332/ecucej/MGEScreenshot8.jpg

In case anyone's interested, the female Legion cuirass comes from http://homepage.eircom.net/~neilvmods/Index.htm (though I don't use the mod itself).

GRRRRR...

Why did you have to make Ada...so...

*ahem*

...er... WELL DEVELOPED in the pectoral and mammary department?

Now that pic's stuck in my head and it won't go away!!!

:rofl:

All the more reason to keep reading your fanfic...

:lol:

As I mentioned in the first chapter, Ada isn't actually supposed to be curvy (being a fighter, she has more of a lean and wiry build). Unfortunately, the Better Bodies mod makes everyone look like a cover model. http://i50.photobucket.com/albums/f332/ecucej/ada4.jpg picture is closer to how I envision her, though she is somewhat younger in that shot.

Chapter 14: Never Say Nerevar

When I finally emerged from the Fighters' Guild the next morning, I was surprised to find that it was almost noon. Up till now it hadn't really hit me how utterly exhausted I was after the last few days' events. I decided to spend the day resting and relaxing in Ald'ruhn, jewel of the Ashlands.

I wandered around the city for most of the afternoon. I didn't hate Ald'ruhn quite as much as I had when I'd first arrived ? at least in good weather ? but everything about it reminded me of the things I missed from home. Grass, trees, flowers? anything green.

In fact, there were dozens of little things I was starting to miss about Cyrodiil by this time ? food being a major one. Morrowind food wasn't bad exactly, but it was a bit too exotic for my tastes. I found myself longing for good old Cyrodiil fare ? not just expensive luxuries such as venison, but ordinary, everyday stuff like apples and potatoes. Kwama eggs and ash yams just weren't the same.

By late evening I was feeling so depressed that I realised I needed something to distract myself. I went to Neminda to ask if she had any more Redoran duties for me. "Indeed I do," she said, sighing. "The Andrano ancestral tomb has been robbed."

Andrano ancestral tomb? My mouth suddenly felt very dry. "That's? terrible," I croaked, visions of Llevule Andrano's skull floating before my eyes. "Who would do a thing like that?"

"As a matter of fact, we know who did it."

I gulped. "We? do?"

"Yes. A Hlaalu guard named Alvis Teri stole a Founder's Helm from the tomb."

Huh? I hadn't seen anything like when I took the skull for Sharn. Either this Alvis Teri had come along before me, or she was talking about a different Andrano tomb. Relief washed over me.

"Would you be willing to recover this Founder's Helm from the godless Hlaalu?" Neminda continued.

"Sure," I said hastily. "Er? how do I know a Founder's Helm when I see one?"

"It looks like a normal closed bonemold helm," she told me. "He is boasting of the theft at the Eight Plates inn and wears the helm openly. Confront him and demand it back ? but do not shame House Redoran by murdering him."

I hadn't been thinking of killing the guy, for crying out loud. Why did people keep assuming that I'd be ready to commit murder at the drop of a hat? Did I really look like a 'stab first, ask questions later?' kind of person?

The next day I arrived back in Balmora via the Mages Guild and my new friend Masalinie Merian. "Ada!" she exclaimed. "How very nice to see you again." For a brief moment I was quite touched, until she went on, "You don't seem to have visited your 'friend' Caius in a while. Trouble in paradise?"

I gave her a look which ought to have frozen her to the spot, but only made her snort with suppressed laughter. I marched out of the building in haughty silence, trying to salvage at least some of my dignity. Clearly this rumour wasn't going to die down easily, no matter how long I spent away from Balmora, but what could I do? I could hardly tell people the truth ? and even if I did, they weren't exactly going to believe me.

"No, I'm totally not sleeping with Caius. You see, I'm actually a top agent for the Imperial secret service and he's the Grand Spymaster."

"Yeah, right. Hahaha."

Alvis Teri was easy enough to find at the Eight Plates. He was wearing a full set of Hlaalu guard armour, and as Neminda said, he was wearing the Founder's Helm openly. I thought it made him look like a bit of a pillock, to be honest.

As I approached, he looked at me with narrowed eyes from beneath his visor. "If Alvena Llerams' father sent you, tell him it's not mine. I never touched her."

"I'm not here on behalf of the Legion," I said, keeping my voice low as I sat down beside him. "Or Alvena's father, for that matter. I'm a member of House Redoran."

"Oh, great," he said, scowling. "Just what I need. Another stupid Redoran."

I ignored the insult. "I think you have something that belongs to us."

"This helm, you mean?" I could only see his eyes, but I could tell he was grinning. "I stole it fair and square."

"I really don't think it works like that." I leaned towards him slightly. "Come on, Alvis, let's be sensible about this. I'm sure neither of us wants things to turn nasty."

"Twist my arm, will you?"

I grabbed his right arm and gave it a sharp twist. Alvis let out a yelp. "You s'wit!"

Ah, now that word I recognised. My old Fighter's Guild boss Modryn Oreyn used to use it whenever he was in a bad mood (which was most of the time). "Just a small warning," I told him, with a mirthless smile. "Come on now, just hand it over. Or would you like me to have a word with my friend Larrius Varro at Fort Moonmoth?"

I could see him hesitating, trying to work out whether or not I was bluffing. Finally, with great reluctance, he pulled off the helm and handed it to me. "Fine," he muttered. "Take the stupid helm. Just like the Redorans to send a girl to do a man's job."

I couldn't help it, I fell about laughing. "Don't worry, Alvis," I chortled, as he continued to glare at me. "You stay away from our tombs in future, and I won't tell anyone you got beaten up by a giiiiiirl. Okay?"

He seemed more interested in grinding his teeth than saying anything else, so I left the inn to consider my next move. Unfortunately, while it was the last thing I wanted to do right now, I felt I really should go and see Caius. He'd probably have another mission for me by now ? and to tell the truth, I was rather looking forward to crowing over my Legion exploits.

However, it seemed that Caius had already heard the news. The first thing he said once I was safely inside was, "Well, my friend. I hear you managed to foil a plot against the Emperor's life."

"That's right," I said. "I hope his Majesty is grateful."

"I'm sure he will be."

"Tell him I don't want a big reward or anything," I said. "Just a small castle perhaps, maybe a title of some kind? oh, I take it he won't object to me going back to Cyrodiil now?"

Once again, Caius avoided the question. "We need an Ashlander informant," he said briskly. "To tell us about the Ashlanders and the Nerevarine cult."

"Ah. Hang on a minute." I fumbled for my journal. "This Ashlander guy in I met in Pelagiad mentioned a tribe up in the north. Something like Ur? Urkil?"

"Urshilaku?"

"Oh," I said, slightly deflated. "You already know?"

He nodded. "I've heard of them, but first I want you to find out more about Ashlander customs. I've heard of a fellow in Ald'ruhn named Hassour Zainsubani, an Ashlander who left the Wastes to become a wealthy trader."

I wrote down the name in my journal, struggling to work out how to spell it ('Zaynsubahni'? 'Zeensubanni'?) Well, at least I wouldn't have to trek out into the sticks to find the guy.

"They say the Ashlanders like to give and receive presents," Caius continued. "Take these 100 drakes, find out what Zainsubani likes, and get him a gift. Then see what he has to tell you about Ashlanders and the cult."

"Okay. Er, Caius," I said. "I take it all this is actually going to lead somewhere, eventually? Sometime soon maybe?"

"All will be revealed in time," he said, with his usual infuriating smile. I just sighed.

I could have gone straight back to Ald'ruhn after leaving Caius, but first I wanted to get my Temple pilgrimage finished once and for all. The only site left was Ghostgate, near the crater of Red Mountain. I was told that the best way to reach it was to head up the Foyada Mamaea ('foyada' being the Ashlander word for 'fire-river', or lava channel). Much to my relief, when I reached the foyada east of Balmora, I found that it had dried out long ago (do you have any idea how bloody hot and heavy a full Imperial uniform is?)

Unfortunately I soon found myself facing a far worse threat than lava: cliff racers. As I made my way up the ashy chasm, listening to the whistle of the wind, they began to circle silently. I didn't even realise they were there until I heard that dreadful shriek and looked up to see two of the damn things, only a few feet above my head and bearing down fast.

I ran. There was nowhere to take cover in the narrow, deserted mountain pass: no caves, no trees? Eventually I realised that I couldn't outrun them, and that if I kept going I would only run into even more of the things. I ducked behind a tall rock, raised my shield above my head, and resorted to my tried-and-tested 'wave sword around wildly and hope it connects' technique.

I finally emerged alive, but badly scratched and bleeding. From now on I realised I would have to be a lot more careful about watching out for cliff racers. They had a bird's-eye view (literally) and I had nowhere to hide.

From then on I crept forward a lot more slowly and cautiously, constantly looking around me and listening for the cliff racers' shrieks. When I spotted one in the distance, I would wait until it noticed me and then fire off an arrow as it swept in to attack. I didn't hit every time, but I did manage to keep most of them from getting close enough to do any real damage.

About half-way up the foyada, I spotted what looked like a building looming out of the fog in the distance. My heart leapt with relief, only to plunge again as I suddenly realised what kind of structure it was. The twisted, misshapen architecture of carved obsidian could only signify one thing: a Daedric shrine. No one had mentioned anything about this!

I swore under my breath and paused to think what to do next. Daedra were immune to normal weapons, and while I did still have my enchanted shortsword from Sharn gra-Muzgob, I'd no idea if it would be enough to hold them off. I'd just have to stay as far away from the shrine as possible and hope none of them spotted me.

I inched my way along the opposite side of the pass, pressed up against the cliff face, now keeping a desperate watch for Daedra as well as cliff racers. I could probably handle the odd scamp or clannfear, but if I ran across an Atronach I was finished. First thing to on my to-do list once I got back to Ald'ruhn: find a better sword.

At long, long last I was far enough away from the shrine to consider myself safe. I sank to the ground to rest, sighing with relief ? and that was when the Blight storm hit.

Once again, I couldn't shake the feeling that one of the Gods must have been watching over me that day. (Probably wetting themselves laughing, but still.) If I hadn't happened to be carrying the Founder's Helm, I'd probably have choked to death in that storm. As it was, the helm offered good protection against the wind and ash but made it far harder to see where I was going ? and, more importantly, to see the cliff racers and other wild creatures bent on attacking me.

I struggled on through the raging storm as it began to get dark, exhausted, but not daring to stop and rest in case I was attacked. I couldn't even see more than a few feet in front of my face ? all I could do was pray that I was going the right way. By the time I finally arrived at Ghostgate ? now well into the night ? I was drenched in sweat, caked with dirt, aching all over and very close to tears.

Even so, my first sight of the 'Ghostfence' ? the massive cage-like structure that surrounded Red Mountain, in order to keep blighted monsters from getting out ? was almost enough to make me forget my aches and pains. It was a truly incredible sight: a massive, shimmering wall, fifty feet high and stretching as far as the eye could see. I wondered how long it had been there, and what kind of enchantment was used to maintain it.

I wasn't in any state to continue my pilgrimage that night, so I stumbled into the northernmost tower where the Redorans had a hostel and collapsed into bed. The next morning, as I ate breakfast, the publican ? who seemed to act as a kind of tour guide for pilgrims ? told me a little about Ghostgate and the Ghostfence.

"Since the Armistice, most Dunmer clans bind their ancestors' bones into the Ghostfence," she told me. "The fence is sustained by the power of the Tribunal, but their spirits help to strengthen it."

"You mean? it's made of ghosts? Actual ghosts?" Now that was just creepy. Up until then I'd assumed the name was metaphorical.

I asked her whether it was true that Dagoth Ur lived inside the Ghostfence, and she nodded. "He dwells in fiery caverns beneath Red Mountain, served by his kin ? called 'ash vampires' ? and legions of deformed monsters. For centuries Ordinators and Buoyant Armigers led by the Tribunal would pass through the gate on raids, but these were suspended because of heavy losses to the Temple forces."

"Buoyant Armigers?" I tried not to giggle as I imagined a bunch of soldiers, inflated like balloons, bobbing up and down on the surface of a lake.

"They are a small military order of the Temple, dedicated to serving Lord Vivec." She lowered her voice, smiling a little. "In more ways than one, so I am told."

Was she serious? Good grief. Every day I seemed to be learning something new and fascinating about the gods of the Dunmer. At the very least, I had to admit that they sounded a lot more interesting than ours.

The Shrine of Pride was just inside the Ghostfence, where heavy blight storms raged all day long. To get through the Ghostgate I had to pass two heavy iron gates which were controlled by levers. I don't know why Dagoth Ur's monsters couldn't operate them; either they just weren't intelligent enough, or the levers were protected by some kind of enchantment.

I was nervous about running into some of these monsters while walking to the shrine, but as it turned out, the only threat I faced was cliff racers. After dealing with them I donated a soulgem to the shrine, and was delighted when it cast a fairly powerful Shield spell on me ? though admittedly this would have been a lot more helpful on the way to Ghostgate.

There was no way in hell I was going to travel back down the foyada to Balmora, so I went to the Ghostgate temple and asked if anyone could teach me an Almsivi Intervention spell. It was quite expensive, but ultimately I hoped it would save me money on scrolls. Once I was reasonably sure I knew the spell, I had a go at casting it, and after a few failed attempts I finally ended up in the Ald'ruhn Temple courtyard.

Inside the temple I spoke to a priest, Tuls Valen, to explain that I'd finished the pilgrimages. I had no way of proving this, but Valen didn't seem to care ? it seemed that if I'd had the nerve I could have just waited a few weeks, then told a Temple priest that I was done, and they'd be none the wiser. Sigh.

After taking the Founder's Helm back to Neminda, my next task was to find Hassour Zainsubani and convince him to tell me all about Ashlanders. Before that, though, I needed a new sword ? one that could handle Daedra. I went to the enchanter's store under Skar, and bartered my old sword and a few other items for a longsword with a Frost damage enchantment. After that I went to the Ald Skar Inn, which was where I'd been told Hassour could be found.

Zainsubani wasn't in the inn when I first arrived, but the innkeeper assured me that he was staying there. "He has his own room here," she told me. "He was born an Ashlander, and knows their speech and custom, and has grown rich by trading with them for the things prized by Westerners. Is that what you wanted to know?"

"I was wandering what sort of thing he might like as a gift?"

"A gift?" She thought for a moment. "Well, he seems very fond of books."

Books, eh? I left the inn and walked over to the Ald'ruhn bookseller, where I faced the daunting task of choosing a gift for someone I'd never even met. ABCs for Barbarians was probably not the best choice, ditto A Less Rude Song and Homilies of Blessed Almalexia, but what would suit an Ashlander who'd left his tribe to become a wealthy trader?

In despair, I finally went to the bookseller himself ? an Imperial named Codus Callonus ? and asked whether he knew Hassour. "The Ashlander trader?" He nodded. "A bibliophile. Likes poetry. I have a few such volumes here, I believe ? Words of the Wind, Ashland Hymns, The Five Far Stars."

After some dithering I picked The Five Far Stars and returned to the Ald Skar inn. Zainsubani was back too, and was drinking in the backroom below the bar. I approached him nervously, clutching the book in my hands.

"I am Hassour Zainsubani, Ada," he said, when I introduced myself. "May you bless and be blessed. I do not wish to be rude, but if you have business, speak it, for I am at leisure, and would prefer to be alone with my thoughts."

"Ah." This wasn't the best start. "Actually, I was hoping you might have time to speak to me. I've? brought you a gift."

I held out the book, and Hassour's face lit up. "This is a gift for me? A copy of The Five Far Stars. Noble words of noble warriors." He hesitated. "Please take no offence, but I already own a copy of this book."

"Oh." I cringed. It's always the way, isn't it? You spend ages trying to pick the perfect gift for someone, only to discover they already have it.

"No, no!" he exclaimed, seeing my embarrassment. "You could not know this, and it in no way diminishes the pleasure of your gift. Now, what would you wish me to tell you?"

I explained that I wanted to know more about Ashlanders, and about the Nerevarine cult. Hassour threw up his hands. "There is too much to tell! But I will write you some notes. And if you are visiting a camp, there are things you should know about courtesy and challenges among the Ashlanders, and their views on foreigners."

"Tell me what they think of foreigners," I said, wanting to know the worst.

"Most Ashlanders wish all foreigners and their false gods could be driven from Morrowind," he said bluntly. "Or at the very least, they wish the 'foreign devils' would leave them in peace. They think it shameful to attack unarmed persons, but they will kill without hesitation an armed person who offends them or their clan laws." He paused. "I do not wish to alarm you, but Imperials and the Empire are particularly disliked. If you plan to visit a camp, it may be best to remove your Legion cuirass."

Oh, great. "Okay, what about courtesy and challenges?"

"Ashlanders may challenge a stranger who enters a yurt without invitation," he said. "Customs differ with different tribes, but leave when requested, and you may be forgiven. Be particularly careful about ashkhans ? tribal chiefs ? and wise women, the tribal seers and counsellors. Be courteous, and leave if requested ? if offended, they may attack."

This was just getting better and better, I thought. Especially since knowing me, I was bound to do something to offend someone (such as 'being Imperial', by the sound of it) without even meaning to. "What about the Nerevarine cult?" I asked, changing the subject. "Do all Ashlanders follow it, or is it just the Urshilaku?"

Hassour nodded. "The cult is of small consequence in Ashlander worship, and only among the Urshilaku do its followers have any influence. It is a very small cult, with only a few wise women with the gift of prophecy, and a few holy warrior-heroes who guard and protect the seers. Sul-Matuul, Ashkhan of the Urshilaku, is the Warrior-Protector of the cult, and their wise woman Nibani Maesa is the Oracle-Seer of the cult."

So the Nerevarine cultists were a minority even among the Ashlanders? The more I learned about this cult, the less I understood why Caius seemed to care about it so much. I waited patiently for Hassour to finish writing his notes, then thanked him and went to the Fighter's Guild to have dinner.

To my extreme annoyance, that night I had yet another of those disturbing dreams. Golden Mask Guy was back, and this time I could actually hear and understand what he was saying. "Lord Nerevar Indoril, Hai Resdaynia!" he cried. "Long forgotten, forged anew! Three belied you, three betrayed you! One you betrayed was three times true! Lord Voryn Dagoth, Dagoth Ur, steadfast liegeman, faithful friend, bids you come and climb Red Mountain! Beneath Red Mountain, once again, break your bonds, shed cursed skin, and purge the n'wah from Morrowind!"

I'd had just about enough of this. "Listen, pal," I snarled. "I'm not Lord Nerevar Indoril. In case you haven't noticed, I'm an Imperial and a GIRL. And I'm quite happy with my skin, thank you very much, even if I do spend a fortune on potions to cure sunburn!" I was getting really angry now. "So will you kindly piss off and stop haunting my dreams?"

I woke up straight after that, so I didn't get to see how Dagoth Ur ? if that was who he was ? reacted. Frankly, I wasn't at all happy about him forcing his way into my dreams like this, let alone addressing me as a 'friend'. If this was an attempt to recruit me to his nasty little ethnic-cleansing campaign, it wasn't working. Didn't he realise I was one of the 'n'wah' he wanted to kick out of Morrowind?

I spent the morning training in the Redoran practice rooms, trying to work off my frustration with Caius, bad dreams and the world in general. Before setting off for Balmora in the afternoon, I went to get duties from Neminda. "Drulene Falen needs help with her guar herds again," she said, before I even had time to speak.

I stared. "What, again? Are the mudcrabs regrouping?"

Neminda shook her head. "Sounds like trouble with bandits ? probably outcast Ashlanders. Would you be willing to help?"

Sheesh. This woman really couldn't catch a break, could she? Resisting the urge to say "only if I get more Hackle-Lo", I promised to go the next day, but first I had to report back to Caius.

"Thanks for your report." Caius said to me, when I showed him Hassour's notes. "But keep the notes ? you'll need them. I'm promoting you, and sending you to the Urshilaku camp to speak with Sul-Matuul and Nibani Maesa." He paused. "But before you go, I think it may be time to tell you what's going on."

I folded my arms. "Yes, I think it may be."

Caius let out a long breath and brushed his hand against his forehead. For the first time since I'd met him, he looked unsure of himself. Finally he said, "The Emperor and his advisors think you have the appearance of meeting the conditions of the Nerevarine prophecies."

"What?"

"That's why you were pulled out of prison on his Majesty's authority and sent to me. So you could satisfy the conditions of the Nerevarine prophecies and become the Nerevarine."

"What?!"

"Here," he said, handing me a piece of paper. "This is a decoded copy of the package you gave me when you arrived. It should explain everything."

For a moment I just looked at him, convinced that he was joking, but there wasn't even the ghost of a smile on his face. At last I set the letter down in front of me and began to read.

Spymaster Caius Cosades

Knight-Errant of the Imperial Order of Blades

Director of Imperial Intelligence in Vvardenfell District, Eastern Provinces

I have the honour to acquaint you with his Majesty's wishes concerning Ada Ventura, an individual of no rank or consequence.

Ada Ventura has been released from prison by his Majesty's authority and sent to you with this missive. She is to be entered as a Novice in the Imperial Order of the Blades, and is to serve under your absolute authority as you shall see fit, except insofar as his Majesty's particular wishes are concerned.

His Majesty's particular wishes are as follows.

A local superstition holds that an orphan and outcast, a youth born on a certain day to uncertain parents, shall unite all the tribes of the Dunmer, drive out the invaders of Morrowind, and shall reestablish the ancient laws and customs of the Dark Elven nations. This orphan and outcast is called in legend the 'Nerevarine', and is supposed to be a reincarnation of the long-dead Dunmer General and First Councillor, Lord Indoril Nerevar.

Ada Ventura has the appearance of meeting the conditions of this local superstition. Therefore it is his Majesty's desire that she shall, insofar as is possible, satisfy the conditions of this ancient prophecy, and shall become the Nerevarine.

I stopped reading, and looked up at Caius. "What?!"

"It's all there in the letter," he said patiently. "The Emperor thinks you satisfy the conditions of the Nerevarine prophecies. Can I be any clearer?"

I simply couldn't find words to express how ridiculous this was. "Caius? this is insane. There must be thousands of people born on the same day as me to uncertain parents! I mean, no offence to his Majesty, but what in Arkay's name is he thinking? If he wants to create a puppet Nerevarine, surely it would make more sense to choose a male Dunmer?"

"Zainsubani says Sul-Matuul and Nibani Maesa at Urshilaku camp are the heads of the Nerevarine cult," he continued, as if he hadn't heard. "So I'm sending you to speak with them. Tell them your story, and have them test you against the Nerevarine prophecies."

I gaped at him. "You want me to go and tell a bunch of tent-dwelling savages, who want nothing more than to drive all foreigners out of Morrowind, that I'm the reincarnated Saviour they've been waiting for all these years? They'll rip me to pieces!"

"Well, the package you gave me described the prophecy's conditions, and you seem to match them ? "

"Caius! This. Is. Not. Going. To. Work." I slammed my hand down on the table. "No one in their right mind is going to believe that a 23-year-old Imperial woman is the Nerevarine! I don't believe it myself, so how the heck am I supposed to convince anyone else?"

"Don't dismiss it out of hand, Ada," he said softly. "You've seen for yourself that the Emperor and his counsellors think you have the 'appearance' of satisfying the prophecy. At first I thought we were just supposed to create a persuasive impostor, but?"

My jaw dropped. "You're not telling me you actually believe this crap!"

Caius looked me directly in the eye. "I don't know what to think. But I am sure of one thing: This is not just primitive superstition, and we will treat it seriously, just as his Majesty commands. Won't we, Ada?"

Okay, I thought, this is it. He's lost it. Gone completely and utterly off his rocker. I was starting to suspect that he wasn't even a Blades agent at all, just some lunatic with delusions of grandeur.

"Would you like me to leave you something in my will, Caius?" I asked bitterly.

He ignored me. "As I said, go to Sul-Matuul and Nibani Maesa, and have them test you against the prophecies, then report back to me. Here's 200 drakes for expenses, and you can pick up essential supplies at Fort Moonmoth."

I let out a sigh of pure exasperation. "All right, Caius," I said. "I will play along with this ridiculous charade, for now. But the minute anyone cottons on to what we're doing, I'm out of here ? and don't go threatening me with arrest, because that's nothing compared to what the Temple will do to me if they ever find out about this."

Ten minutes later I staggered into the Eight Plates tavern and flopped down on one of the barstools. "Cyrodilic brandy," I told the bartender. "A large one. In fact, better make it a double."

I spent the rest of the evening trying to process what I had heard, but no matter how much I drank, it still didn't make any sense. Somehow, the Emperor ? and Dagoth Ur, it would appear ? had got the idea that I was the reincarnation of this Nerevar guy, or at least that I'd make a handy substitute for the real thing. But if the Emperor wanted a convincing 'fake' Nerevarine, how did I even begin to fit the bill? And if he really thought the prophecy was genuine, why would he even want to make it come true? Didn't all the prophecies claim that the Nerevarine would drive the Empire out of Morrowind?

No, that couldn't be it ? he had some kind of scheme, and I was just a pawn in whatever political game he was playing. For the first time since joining the Blades, I felt genuinely angry at what I'd been asked to do. He wants me to trick them, I thought. He wants me to go to these people, who have nothing left except dreams of their long-awaited messiah, and use those dreams against them.

Well, he had another think coming. If there was one thing I did remember from my history lessons, it was what happened to 'pretenders' who got found out, and it was never good. I wasn't a fool, and I certainly wasn't going to make the mistake of thinking I'd be any different.

Hehe :goodjob: Morrowinds mainquest is so fast...

Once again, your chapter was absoloutly brilliant! Please do keep up the awesomeness!!

Forgive me, Helena dearest, but I can't resist this...

"All will be revealed in time," he said, with his usual infuriating smile. I just sighed.

Foxy addition: He was lying - he had been revealing all (well, at least the upper half) since I met him!

:rofl: :rofl:

Chapter 15: Licence To Kill

I woke up in the inn with a stinking hangover and a strong conviction that I must have dreamed the last night's events. Unfortunately, the first thing I saw when I forced my eyes open was the translated letter from the Emperor, which was still clutched in my hands. I must have fallen asleep while reading through it, trying to find something ? anything ? to give me a clue of what this was really all about.

For the moment I couldn't see any choice but to go along with this crazy scheme, however little I wanted to. After all, I thought, the Ashlanders would soon send me packing when they realised I wasn't the Nerevarine ? and Caius would be forced to admit defeat and let me go back to Cyrodiil. If I survived that long, that was.

I had to take a 'Cure Poison' potion to get rid of the hangover before setting off on my latest Redoran mission. I won't bother to describe my second visit to Drulene Falen's farm, because it would be far too boring. Suffice it to say that I found and killed the bandits who were molesting Drulene's guar, and received more Hackle-Lo as a reward. The only vaguely interesting thing that happened to me was on the way back, when I ran into a well-dressed Argonian carrying a pile of clothing.

"Greetings, traveller," he called, speaking with a heavy accent. "Rasha wishes you well, and thinks you maybe can help him with some pressing business."

"What sort of business?"

"I have, you see, a shipment of clothing," he said, patting the shirts he carried. "Fine clothing, it is... to get to Ald-ruhn. But, I fear other business draws me away. Perhaps you and I might come to an arrangement, yes? If you will deliver Rasha's shirts? these fine, fine shirts... to Ald-ruhn, you will be paid for your services."

I couldn't help wondering why he wasn't able to deliver them himself, but I couldn't see any problem with accepting the offer. I was going back to Ald'ruhn anyway, and the worst thing that could happen was that they'd refuse to pay me. After taking a quick look at the shirts to check that they weren't cursed or anything (well, you never know), I nodded and told him I'd do it.

"Most excellent!" he cried. "I would ask that you swear an oath to Zenithar to seal our arrangement, though. Yes?"

"Um, okay," I said. "I swear to Zenithar that I will deliver your shipment."

"Wonderful!" He practically flung the shirts at me ? and then, to my amazement, removed his own shirt and added it to the pile. "Take these to Bivale Teneran the clothier in Ald-ruhn ? she will pay you. And a generous woman she is."

Bivale Teneran, the clothier who acted as a Hlaalu spy? My heart sank. She was the last person I wanted to speak to again, especially since I'd ratted her out to Neminda. Still, once I reached Ald'ruhn, maybe I could hand over the shirts to someone else and get them to complete the delivery.

"Take care, my friend," Rasha warned me as I made to leave. "One should not take an oath sworn to Zenithar lightly. No, never lightly."

I'd never sworn an oath to Zenithar before ? or any of the other Divines, for that matter ? but while I had no intention of breaking it, I wasn't exactly quaking in my boots at the thought of pissing off the god of commerce. What exactly was he going to do, get all the local merchants to charge me really inflated prices?

By the time I arrived back it was so late that all the traders had shut up shop, so I couldn't do anything else that evening. On my way back to the Fighters' Guild I ran into some other Guild members on their way to the tavern, who invited me to come and have a drink with them. I accepted, and spent several hours in the Rat in the Pot, happily regaling them with stories of my adventures in the Legion.

The next morning I went back to Neminda to report the success of my latest mission. She couldn't offer me any more duties for the moment, so I returned to Tuls Valen at the Temple to see if he had any tasks for me. I was less than thrilled when he suggested I undertake yet another pilgrimage ? this time to Maar Gan, a Redoran town in the north. Still, it wasn't like I had anything better to do right now (no, visiting the Urshilaku camp definitely did not count as 'anything better').

Before setting off I went to visit the local alchemist to stock up on potions, but when I tried to purchase some, she shook her head. "Sorry. I'll do no business with one who bears the mark of Zenithar."

"The mark of Zenithar?" What, did suddenly I have a big 'Z' carved into my forehead?

She nodded. "It's obvious you've sworn an oath to Zenithar you've yet to fulfill."

"I was going to fulfill it," I said, aggrieved. "Are you seriously saying no one will trade with me until I deliver those stupid shirts?"

"If that's what you've sworn to do, yes."

Bloody Zenithar! Well, so much for my idea of getting someone else to deliver the shirts. If His Holy Commercialness couldn't even wait a few hours for me to make the delivery, no doubt he'd consider that cheating.

With a heavy heart I set out for Bivale Teneran's store, only to realise half-way there that I didn't actually have the shirts any more. I thought I'd put them in my pack, but now that I thought back to yesterday, I remembered that I'd carried them under my arm to stop them getting creased. I must have left them at the Guild, I thought, and set off to get them.

But when I got there, the shirts weren't there. I looked absolutely everywhere ? in my equipment chest, under the bed, in the bed ? but I just couldn't find them. By now I was starting to feel mildly panicked. What was I going to do if I'd lost the shirts and couldn't fulfill my oath to Zenithar?

Suddenly, with a sinking heart, I realised where I must have left them. When I'd gone to the Rat in the Pot with the others the night before, I'd put them down on the back of one of the chairs while we drank ? and I didn't remember picking them up again. And that place was the Thieves' Guild headquarters, I realised, groaning inwardly. I'd never see the damn things again.

What was I going to do now? All I could think of was to try and replace the shirts, but how could I do that when no one would sell me anything? Aaarrgh. This was definitely the last time I'd agree to swear an oath to one of the Divines.

Finally, out of sheer desperation, I went back to the Rat in the Pot to speak with the owner Lirielle Stoine. "I don't suppose you'd happen to have seen some expensive-looking shirts round here?" I asked, without much hope.

To my amazement, she reached under the counter and pulled out Rasha's shirts. "Would these be what you're looking for?"

"Yes," I said joyfully, clutching them to my chest. "Oh, thank you so much." Perhaps there was 'honour among thieves' after all ? some of them, at least.

"Yak gro-Skandar handed them in after you left them behind last night," she said with a wink. "He said something about 'making it too easy'."

Blushing, I mumbled my thanks and apologies and left for Bivale's clothing store as quickly as possible. At this point I had to grudgingly admit that Zenithar might have a reason for considering me unreliable.

I had no idea how Bivale would react to seeing me again, since she must have heard by now about me leaving House Hlaalu for Redoran. But in the event she greeted me exactly as she had before, with the same friendly smile I remembered from our last meeting. She even gave me a very nice enchanted belt as payment for delivering the shirts. Had the Redorans actually taken any action against her? I couldn't tell.

I had to take the silt strider to Maar Gan, as there was no Mages Guild guide there. When I entered the town's Temple I found that the entrance hall was dominated by a large rock, with a plaque attached to it and a collection plate nearby. I was startled to see another Dremora, like the one in the Puzzle Canol in Vivec, standing there beside an armed guard.

When I approached the Daedra, wondering what he was doing there, he scowled at me. "I am Anhaedra. If you are a pilgrim, read the inscription on the stupid rock."

I went over to the 'stupid rock' and read the inscription: "Here Mehrunes Dagon held this rock high above the Dunmer. Vivec taunted Mehrunes Dagon so that Dagon threw the rock at Vivec instead of the people." Well, okay. What now?

I turned to the priest standing nearby for help. He smiled at me. "If you are on the pilgrimage here, I may assist you. Do you want the blessings of the Temple?"

"Um, I suppose so," I said uncertainly, and he cast what sounded like a Sanctuary blessing on me. Nice of him, I thought, but I still wasn't sure exactly what I was supposed to be doing.

I glanced back and forth from him, to the rock, to the Daedra, and then suddenly burst out laughing as I realised what was going on here. "Is that what you're here for?" I said, striding up to Anhaedra. "Helping pilgrims to re-enact the rock-throwing scene?"

He looked impassively at me. "Your words are weak, mortal, as is your flesh."

"That's ridiculous," I said. "I mean, no offence, but that is truly pathetic. You seriously just stand around here all day letting people make fun of you?"

I could see that he was starting to get annoyed, but he contained his anger with an effort. "Continue with your insults, mortal. I long to feast on your marrow."

"Oooh, I'm scaaared," I jeered. "Oooh, look at the big Dremora who wants to feast on my marrow. Are you going to throw rocks at me, Dremora?"

That did it. With a vicious snarl, Anhaedra drew a silver longsword from the sheath by his side. "After I kill you, I will [censored] your corpse," he growled. "Don't worry, I'll be gentle."

Charming, I thought. Still, I couldn't entirely blame him. If I were a Daedra magically bound to the mortal plane for eternity, forced to endure endless taunts and jeers for the amusemant of smug pilgrims, I'd probably be threatening to [censored] people's corpses as well.

Fighting a Dremora would normally be a terrifying experience, but the Sanctuary spell the priest had cast on me made it all but impossible for Anhaedra to hit me. I struck him a couple of times with my own blade and he instantly vanished, leaving nothing behind but his sword and a Daedra heart. I couldn't help feeling a bit sorry for the guy, to be honest. Okay, so the Daedra are basically pitiless monsters who look on mortals roughly the same way we view insects, but surely even they didn't deserve a fate like this.

"You have done well, outlander," said the priest, as I turned back to him. "Wisdom and praise be unto you. Culminate your pilgrimage by reading the inscription on the rock."

Sighing, I read the inscription out loud once more and waited while the shrine cast another blessing on me. On leaving the temple I realised I'd have to stay the night here, as there was no silt strider service back to Ald'ruhn until the next day. I wondered what else there was to do in Maar Gan.

The answer to this turned out to be 'not a lot', so I paid for a room at the only tradehouse in the town and spent the rest of the evening there. I didn't know anyone, so I wasn't able to join in any of the conversation, but I did overhear an interesting rumour ? apparently some rogue Ashlanders in a camp near the town were bragging about having captured a famous noble. Hmm, I thought. If he was a Redoran, wouldn't Neminda have told me about this?

The next morning I got up very early, just before dawn, and followed the innkeeper's directions to the Ashlander camp nearby. I found it a mile or so down the dirt road that led from Maar Gan to Ald'ruhn. Some Ashlanders were already sitting outside their yurt, cooking breakfast around a small campfire.

I really didn't want to have to attack anyone this time, so I approached the Ashlanders cautiously and asked if I could enter the yurt. They didn't seem to understand very well, so I repeated the question more slowly and carefully, pointing towards the tent. If they'd recognised me as a Legion soldier they might well have refused, but I'd left off my cuirass, remembering what my Ashlander informant Hassour Zainsubani had told me. One of them finally shrugged and nodded, before turning his back to me and continuing with his breakfast.

Inside the yurt I found an Ashlander man in netch leather armour and another male Dunmer, presumably the 'famous noble'. For a famous noble he was certainly dressed pretty shabbily, and I noticed that he was barefoot ? perhaps to make it harder for him to escape. "Sera. Bless and be blessed," I said to the Ashlander, remembering how Hassour Zainsubani had greeted me. "I hear that you're holding a nobleman prisoner?"

"Yes, you heard right. I have the famous noble Beden Giladren." He gestured towards the other Dunmer. "I demand five thousand drakes in ransom. Will you pay?"

I didn't have five thousand drakes, and even if I had, there was no way I was paying him that kind of money. "May I speak to Beden?" I asked, stalling for time. "I don't have the money, but his family might."

The man looked me up and down briefly, noting the armour I wore and the scabbard hanging from my belt. At last he nodded and moved aside, allowing me to approach the prisoner. "Are you Beden Giladren?" I asked him, in a voice too low for the Ashlander to hear.

He nodded. "Can you get me out of here, outlander? These Ashlanders are holding me for ransom."

"I'll do my best, but I'm not going to pay them five thousand septims." I paused. "Are you a Redoran, then? I don't recognise the name."

Beden reddened slightly. "Well? no, I'm not. I'm just a poor pilgrim. I thought the Ashlanders would kill me, so I told them that I was a famous noble."

I couldn't believe this. "You bloody idiot!"

"Well, what was I supposed to tell them?" he hissed. "I was afraid. I knew it was wrong, but what else could I do?"

"If you'd just told them the truth, they'd probably have let you go." Heaving an exasperated sigh, I turned back to the Ashlander. "Excuse me, sera. About your hostage here."

"Yes?" he asked impatiently. "Have you not heard of this famous Redoran noble, Beden Giladren?"

"He's not a famous noble," I said through gritted teeth, ignoring the frantic gestures Beden was making. "He's not even a Redoran. He just told you those things because he was afraid you would kill him."

I watched the man's face gradually flush with anger as he realised how he'd been fooled. "So this 'famous noble' is a liar and a coward," he said scornfully. I could understand his disgust, to be honest, though I couldn't feel much sympathy for him. "Very well, you can have him for five drakes."

As I said before, I don't usually like paying ransoms, but this barely counted as a 'ransom' ? it was a face-saving gesture, a sop to his wounded pride. I handed over five drakes ? which was probably far less than he'd already spent on feeding his hostage ? and he agreed that Beden was free to go. I hoped that perhaps this would teach these Ashlanders a lesson about attacking innocent travellers and holding them prisoner.

I offered to accompany Beden back to Maar Gan, but he told me he could make his own way there. Frankly I wouldn't have trusted this guy to walk from one end of the street to the other without getting into trouble, but it was his choice. I left the Ashlander camp and headed back to the town, arriving just in time to catch the silt strider to Ald'ruhn.

Beden had told me I should speak to someone at the temple in Ald'ruhn to explain what had happened to him. When I went back to Tuls Valen to tell him I'd completed the Maar Gan pilgrimage, I mentioned Beden's name and was directed to Lloros Sarano, a Redoran priest.

"So you rescued Beden Giladren from the Ashlander camp," he said at last, when I explained who I was and what had happened to Beden. "I was wondering what had happened to him. Thank you, Sera Ventura ? I will make sure House Redoran hears of your deeds."

I still didn't feel like setting off on Caius's latest errand, so I went back to Skar in the hope that Neminda might have something for me to do. I found her looking anxious and harassed. "Ah, Ada!" she exclaimed. "I'm glad you're back. I have an urgent assignment for you."

"What sort of assignment?"

"Serjo Athyn Sarethi, a councillor of House Redoran, believes his life is in danger." She cast a nervous glance towards Skar's main chamber, where the entrances to the noble manors could be found. "He's in Sarethi Manor under Skar. I need someone to guard him."

"Okay, fine." I paused, trying to remember where I'd heard the name Sarethi just recently. Ah, yes ? the author of The True Noble's Code, and? "Does he have a son called Varvur, by any chance?"

"Yes," she said, looking mildly surprised. "Have you met him?"

"Er? not exactly."

She bit her lip. "Oh, I hope Athyn is okay. He and my father were close friends, and the Sarethi family has had enough trouble recently."

I assumed she was referring to Varvur and the murder accusations, but there was no time to ask. Following her directions I headed straight for the Sarethi manor, hoping that I would get there in time. Somehow I had a very bad feeling about this.

As I entered the manor, my heart skipped a beat. A fight had clearly just taken place, and the floor was strewn with dead bodies ? some in bonemold armour, others wearing masks and outfits made of dark leather. In the midst of them all stood a middle-aged Dunmer in a red robe, clutching what looked like a Dwarven shortsword, whom I desperately hoped was Athyn Sarethi. Otherwise it would seem I'd got here a little late.

When the man saw me, his eyes widened and he shifted into a defensive stance. "It's OK!" I called to him, sheathing my own sword quickly and raising my hands. "Are you Serjo Athyn Sarethi? Neminda sent me to guard you."

"Oh, thank the Tribunal!" he exclaimed, with a sigh of relief. "The assassins have already taken my guards, as you see. I fear there will be mo- "

He broke off at the sound of a tremendous racket at the entrance to the mansion. Moments later two more leather-clad figures burst through the door, brandishing shortswords, and we seized our own weapons in preparation for a battle. I'm not sure I could have taken on both of them at once, but luckily Lord Sarethi seemed perfectly capable of defending himself. Having made short work of the second assassin, he stood back to mop his brow, and I saw through a tear in his robe that he was wearing chitin armour underneath it.

Looking down at the man I'd just killed, I saw a piece of folded-up paper tucked into his belt. I bent down to pick it up, and blinked in astonishment as I spotted the words at the top of the page. " 'Honourable Writ of Execution for Athyn Sarethi'? What the hell is this?"

He said nothing. "The afore-mentioned personage has been marked for honourable execution in accordance to the lawful tradition and practice of the Morag Tong Guild," I read aloud. "The Bearer of this non-disputable document has official sanctioned licence to kill ? This is some kind of sick joke, right?"

Lord Sarethi shook his head, still breathing heavily. "They are Morag Tong."

"Is that something like the Camonna Tong?"

"No, the word 'Tong' means 'guild'. And 'Morag'?" He hesitated. "The literal translation is 'Foresters'."

My mouth dropped open as I realised what he was saying. "Assassins? You have a bloody guild of bloody assassins?" You know, I'd always suspected that the Dunmer were completely insane, but here at last was cast-iron proof.

Sarethi nodded stiffly. I just couldn't get my head round this. "So? something like the Dark Brotherhood? Only legal?"

"No!" he exclaimed. "Not like the Dark Brotherhood. The Morag Tong are not just cutthroats, they have honour?" I couldn't believe he was defending the people who'd just tried to kill him!

"Well, they may have honour," I said grimly, "but the person who hired them clearly doesn't." I glanced back at the 'writ of execution', sickened at the thought of someone actually sitting down and writing these things. "Do you know who it was? I could pay them a little 'visit' and put the fear of Talos into 'em if you like."

But he was shaking his head. "No, thank you, outlander. You have done enough." He took the writ from my hand. "I am in your debt, and will try to repay you. Please, go and tell Neminda that I am safe."

By now I could hear voices further into the manor, and looking round I saw a few heads ? presumably belonging to servants ? peeking nervously out of doorways. Even so, I was a bit nervous about leaving Sarethi alone. "You don't think there'll be any more of them?" I asked him.

"No. Not today, at least."

"Okay then. Sorry about your guards," I said softly, glancing down at the bodies that littered the floor. He bowed his head, and said nothing.

"What happened?" Neminda asked urgently, as soon as I arrived back in the Council hall. "I heard there was an attack. Is Athyn Sarethi safe?"

When I explained what had happened, she breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you so much. Do you know that's the fourth Morag Tong attack he's fended off in the past few weeks?"

I let out a low whistle. "Wow. Someone really wants him dead, don't they?"

"Yes, and I know wh-" She broke off abruptly. "But no matter. Guard duties pay in drakes, Ada," she continued, handing me two hundred septims. "It's not much, but perhaps you can put it to good use."

She promoted me to Lawman rank, and reminded me that I'd need a Councillor to sponsor me if I wanted to rise further in the House. I wasn't particularly surprised when she recommended Athyn Sarethi. "He's a good man, and was a close friend of my father," she told me. "You will find no better sponsor in all of House Redoran."

Well, the guy whose life I'd just saved certainly sounded like a good choice, but I thought I'd give him a bit of time to recover and mop the blood off his floor before going to him and demanding sponsorship. Besides, I'd been putting off my visit to the Urshilaku long enough; it was time to get this Nerevarine nonsense over with once and for all. If I set out for their camp the next day, I could pay a visit to Athyn Sarethi when I got back ? if I got back. Which wasn't looking at all certain, I thought dourly.

As I left the hall, I wondered who could be ordering the assassination attempts against Sarethi. It sounded like Neminda knew, or suspected, but wasn't willing to tell ? why? And if he was really such a good man as she claimed, why would anyone want him dead? The plot thickened.

Well, that is another great chapter!

Im hooked...

You just better remember to pu those Ash Zombies that ambush you in your sleep in this.

Oh, the Ash Zombies will be there, believe me. Right after Ada finally plucks up the courage to tell Caius to get stuffed.

I've wanted to do a Morrowind fan-fic. Maybe I should get off my ass and finnaly finish the main quest

You should start it anyway. You'll almost certainly have finished the main quest long before you get around to completing the fanfic.

May I just ask, are you going to actually go through with the entire MQ and become Nerevarine etc or is there going to be some sort of twist? Or would that be spoiling?

I don't want to spoil things for everyone, but if you really want to know...

:ahhh: I missed a chapter.
Oh well, read it now
:goodjob:

How long does it take to come up with some of the titles?