Part I of the story is http://www.gamesas.com/bgsforums/index.php?showtopic=928673. You can also read the whole thing at http://www.fanfiction.net/s/4726721/1/The_Neveragaine.

I'm about to return to work after several months of unemployment, so the pace of updates will probably slow down a bit from now on. However, I'll still try to post a new chapter every couple of weeks or so.

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Chapter 26: The Ancestor's Tale

I don't know how long I just sat there, my mind a whirl, staring vacantly at the ring on my finger. I was the Nerevarine. It was true. It was all true, and yet it sounded as insane as ever.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I whispered to the statue of Azura, but there was no answer. She was gone.

Had she really said that I would have to go right into Red Mountain? And personally confront Dagoth Ur, face to face, man to? er, woman? How in the name of all the Divines was I supposed to do that? He was a god, for crying out loud!

"Calm down, Ada," I mumbled to myself. "Okay, so you're the Nerevarine. That means you have to fulfil the prophecies. No matter how crazy and impossible it may seem, you can't fail, so there has to be some way to ? AAAAAAH!"

I nearly jumped out of my skin as I realised, for the first time, that the room was filled with semi-transparent figures. There were six of them, all Dunmer, each standing beside one of the mummified bodies by Azura's statue. None of them spoke or moved; they just stood there, staring at me.

I got slowly to my feet and turned to the nearest of the hazy figures, a young red-haired girl in ragged clothing. She and the others were ghosts ? or so I guessed ? yet they didn't look like the usual sort of ghosts I'd seen in tombs or the occasional cavern. They looked just like normal people, only? see-through.

"Welcome, Incarnate, Moon-and-Star Reborn, Hortator, Nerevarine, Mourner of the Tribe Unmourned, Redeemer of the False Gods," she said, as I stood there gaping at her like some kind of halfwit. "I am Peakstar. I was not the one, but I wait and hope. Ask, and I shall answer, if wisdom guides me."

Peakstar? That name sounded familiar somehow. "Who are you?" I croaked. "What are you doing here?"

"I am Peakstar," she repeated. "I was called to the prophecies, but I was not the one."

"'Not the one'?"

She shook her head. "I survived the blight, but I fell in battle with an Ash Vampire. I could not master the arts of war; nor could I learn the ways of the Great Houses. They would not have accepted me as Hortator."

Suddenly I remembered where I'd heard the name 'Peakstar' before: she was the Ashlander girl who'd claimed to be the Nerevarine, and had mysteriously disappeared several decades earlier. And as I thought about this, and what it had to mean, a truly dreadful realisation began to creep over me. "You mean? these are all failed Nerevarines?"

Peakstar nodded. "I am a failed Incarnate. So are all these who remain here with me in the Cavern of the Incarnate."

Talos help me, it all made sense now. Of course I couldn't be the first reincarnation of Nerevar ? he'd died in the First Era, and I was only born twenty-three years ago. Even with the Dunmers' long lives, there had to have been plenty of other 'Incarnates' since then. I wasn't anything special at all, just the latest in a long line.

"So this means I could fail as well?" I asked, feeling a cold sense of dread seep through me.

Peakstar shook her head gravely. "You are the Nerevarine. You are the Incarnate. You are the one. You must not fail."

"But how can I possibly ? "

"You bear the Moon-and-Star, the ring of Nerevar," she interrupted. "None may deny: you are Nerevar Reborn, the prophesied Incarnate. The Temple will know you as an enemy, Ordinators will mark you for death, and the Tribunal Faithful of the Great Houses will hate and fear you. The doubters of the Tribes will test your strength and doubt your honour. You must prepare, and be ready."

Oh, wonderful. This was sounding better and better all the time. Maybe it was time to give that 'stowing away to Cyrodiil inside a cargo crate' idea another chance.

I took a deep breath. "What about Dagoth Ur? What do you mean by 'the Tribe Unmourned'?"

"Pity Dagoth Ur and the Sixth House," she said solemnly. "All they do, all they are is foul and evil, but they began in brightness and honour, and the cause of their fall was their loyal service to you, Lord Nerevar."

"But ? "

"You told Lord Dagoth to guard the profane tools beneath Red Mountain, and thus he was tempted. He did your bidding when he tried to keep these tools from the Tribunal, and so he hates you, who betrayed him, and the Tribunal, who mocked his honour, attacked him, and stole the profane tools for their own use."

I didn't see any point in trying to argue. "OK, fine," I said wearily. "Yes, it was all my fault. Whatever. Is there anything at all you can do to help me?"

"Here, take these few poor things," she said, and a pile of clothes appeared in her arms, seemingly from nowhere. "They are of no use to me."

Gingerly I took the clothes from Peakstar's arms. There was an embroidered belt, and a pair of disgustingly dirty and stained pants which nevertheless had a useful-looking Levitation enchantment. Perhaps, if I washed them about twelve times first, I could actually find a use for them. Though hopefully not too often ? I could just imagine myself struggling into the damn things every time I wanted to visit a Telvanni tower.

I went round to each of the ancestor ghosts in turn, and one by one they recited their tales of woe while piling my arms high with goodies: a mace, an axe, a couple of books, an enchanted robe and cuirass. By the time I reached the last one, my arms were so full that I could barely walk.

"I'll just leave some of this stuff here for the moment, guys," I said, staggering into a corner and dumping everything except the robe, belt, pants and books. "I can come and pick it up later, OK?" None of them seemed to care.

Rather than return to the Urshilaku camp immediately, I decided to go back to Ald'ruhn via Sadrith Mora. This was all getting a bit overwhelming, and I needed some time to think before I decided what to do next. The ghosts watched impassively as I struggled to cast Divine Intervention, probably thinking "Oh gods, the latest one can't even cast a bloody Intervention spell. Looks like we're going to be here for another few decades."

I still couldn't get over the fact that I was the reincarnation of Nerevar. What did it even mean, exactly? Did it mean that I didn't have a soul of my own, just an ancient Indoril warlord's soul inside me somewhere? I didn't like that idea at all. Or, worse, did it mean that at some point I'd suddenly turn into Nerevar?

I glanced down hastily, and was relieved to see that my body at least had kept its usual shape. It might not be perfect, but I was kind of attached to it.

In any case, before I started getting all philosophical, I had more practical concerns to worry about. Firstly and most importantly: I was starting to run out of cash. The money Caius had left me had been very useful, but I'd already spent most of it by this point. I hadn't received any payment for my services to House Redoran and the Legions, and I'd actually lost money on my last Fighters' Guild job.

I'd have to take more missions for the Guild, I thought. But if I was going to do that, I really needed to have a talk with Percius Mercius first.

From Wolverine Hall I took the Guild Guide to Ald'ruhn, where an ash storm was raging ? was it just me, or were they getting more and more frequent lately? ? and went to see Percius in the Fighters' Guild. He greeted me with a smile. "Good to see you again? Defender, is it? I heard from Lorbumol in Vivec."

"That's right."

"I haven't seen you in a while," he said, and then winked. "But I hear you've been busy with? other things."

My heart almost stopped. "Other? things?"

His smile grew wider. "Folks say you and young Varvur Sarethi have been seeing quite a lot of each other lately."

"Varvur?" I nearly burst out laughing, caught between relief and astonishment. "Me and Varvur Sarethi? Are you kidding?"

"It's not true, then?"

"Of course not." I shook my head in disbelief. "I mean, we've been on a few missions together, but? you can't be serious. Don't you think he's a bit out of my league?"

He laughed. "You can't have been in Ald'ruhn very long. From what I hear of Varvur, you wouldn't be the first young outlander woman he's been involved with."

"Gee, thanks," I said sourly. "So people are saying I'm his latest 'bit of rough', are they?" Could you even use that phrase to describe a woman? Well, at least it was better than having people think I was shacked up with bloody Caius Cosades.

"I don't think that's what they meant," he said. "But anyway, what are you here for? Need more work?"

I drew a deep breath. "Before you give me any more work, I think you need to explain to me what's going on in the Guild. I'm starting to get worried."

Percius screwed up his face. He mulled it over for a moment, scratching his head. "Tell you what," he said at last. "Go do some work for Hrundi in Sadrith Mora ? he's a good man, and you can trust him. When you're a Guardian, come back and talk to me again, and I'll tell you what I know. I've been impressed with your work so far."

As I left the Guild, I found myself thinking over what Percius had said about Varvur Sarethi. I wasn't deaf or blind, and I certainly had suspected that Varvur might have a teensy tiny little crush on me ? but it had never occurred to me to imagine it could actually lead to anything. He was quite good-looking, now that I thought about it, though maybe a little young for m- hang on, what was I thinking? Even if he'd been the embodiment of my ideal man, there was no way I could start a love affair with the son of my Redoran sponsor.

It was probably for the best, I thought. Even in the unlikely event that the Sarethis approved of me dating their son, they'd probably want me to marry him and start popping out babies. I wasn't ready to settle down yet ? I was a career girl. I had absolutely no desire to swan around all day in a palatial mansion, dressed only in the finest silks and satins, eating three- or four-course dinners every night, with a houseful of servants on hand to attend to my every whi- well, maybe it wouldn't be quite so bad to be a nobleman's wife?

I tried to put the whole thing out of my mind, but annoyingly, I couldn't stop thinking about it now that Percius had put the idea in my head. I remembered the pretty Bosmer girl I'd seen in Sarethi Manor, and wondered if she was Varvur's girlfriend. Certainly the way they'd acted around each other suggested that there was something between them.

A good monster-killing expedition was just what I needed to distract me from my hopeless love life, and Hrundi, the burly Nord in charge of the Sadrith Mora Fighters' Guild, had one ready and waiting. Apparently a woman named Larienna Macrina needed some help clearing necromancers out of a Dwemer ruin. When he showed me where it was on my map, I calculated that I'd just have time to fly out there before yesterday's Levitation spell wore off.

I left the hall and flew south until I reached the Dwemer ruin of Nchurdamz, not too far from the Shrine of Azura. A tough-looking Imperial woman, dressed in a Legion uniform, had set up camp just outside the entrance. She waved at me as I flew down to meet her. "Ho there, good friend!"

"Hello," I said. "Are you Larienna Macrina?"

She nodded. "You're one of Hrundi's band, aren't you? I can spot you a mile off. I've been waiting for some time now for assistance, but I suppose you will have to do."

'You will have to do'? She had some bloody nerve, speaking to me like that. "Are you in the Legion, by any chance?" I asked sharply.

"No. I was once, but I left some time ago." Ah.

"I'm on a quest to root out a great beast dwelling within these ruins," she went on. "You and I will explore together."

What? Hrundi had told me we were going after necromancers. "Hold on, a 'great beast'? I thought ? "

"I have scoured the world over hunting a Daedroth named Hrelvesuu with whom I have had? issues? in the past. When last we battled, I struck her a blow so grievous that she fled via spell to her dark sanctuary. This is that place." Larienna gritted her teeth. "She is weak, and likely recuperating from the damage I caused her. This place is well defended and I need someone to watch my back. You can have whatever 'treasure' you can find in there ? I seek only vengeance. What say you?"

My heart sank as I saw the crazed gleam in her eye. I didn't like getting involved in personal vendettas, for all sorts of reasons, but now that I was here I couldn't exactly turn back. "All right," I said, stifling a sigh.

"Then let's go. Remember, let me know if you require aid ? you watch my back and I'll watch yours. Take point and root out the threats."

"What sort of threats do you think we'll face?"

"Dwemer centurions, mainly. Have you ever fought one before?" I shook my head. "Well, you'll soon get used to it, haha. Oh? and Hrelvesuu, of course. Remember, the treasure is yours ? but she is mine."

The large room inside the entrance to Nchurdamz looked like it had once been some kind of dining hall. The first thing I saw was a sort of huge mechanical spider, scuttling across the floor on six spindly legs. It's a good thing I'd seen Dwemer constructs before, otherwise I'd have been utterly terrified at being attacked by a giant metal spider. I froze, unsure how to tackle one of those things with a sword, until Larienna stepped forward and fried it with a powerful blast of shock magicka.

Almost immediately, a large metal ball in the corner of the room unfolded itself into a Centurion and came rolling towards us. "Attack the joints," Larienna called from behind me. "Those are the weakest parts."

As the Centurion lunged at me with a club-like arm, I dodged around it and chopped at the exposed shoulder joint with my sword. A couple of hefty blows cleaved its arm from its shoulder in a shower of sparks. Wasting no time, I slashed at its neck from behind, severing the head from its body and causing it to collapse in what looked strangely like death throes. I'd have been creeped out if I'd had time to think about it.

Larienna and I advanced through the Dwemer ruin, fighting off more of the strange mechanical guardians as we went. It felt strange to be taking orders again, but Larienna was a competent fighter despite her unhealthy obsession with Hrelv? er, the Daedroth. "I can smell the stench of the Daedroth," she hissed, as we moved deeper into the complex. "It is here, and I will find it!"

Down a flight of steps, we came across a room with the obligatory open lava pool in the middle. (It made me wonder what on Nirn they used those things for, and how many Dwemer kids had lost their lives accidentally falling into them.) The entrance was guarded by an extra-large Centurion, which puffed steam as it walked and took a heavy beating from both of us before it went down. But the only thing we found in the room was a rusty key inside an old chest.

Down a passage off to the right, and up another stairway, was a round metal door which was locked and magically trapped. When I pressed my ear against the door, I could hear strange snuffling sounds from the room beyond it. Larienna clapped a hand on my shoulder, making me jump.

"The beast is near now ? very near," she whispered. "Be on your guard."

I still couldn't shake the feeling that this was a bad idea, but I shrugged it off as best I could, and took the key we'd found earlier from my pouch. Very carefully, I slid it into the lock and turned it as quietly as possible. It worked; the door slid open ? and that was when Larienna completely lost her head.

The Daedroth Hrelvesuu was standing in a corner of the room, facing away from us. With a little care we might have taken her down without her even realising we were there ? but that was far too subtle for Larienna, apparently. "Hrelvesuu, I have come for you!" she roared, shoving me aside just as I was starting to creep through the door. "Show yourself!"

Before I had the chance to ask her what the hell she thought she was doing, I heard her yell out the words to a spell. A massive bolt of shock magicka crackled through the air, hitting everything within a ten-foot radius ? me included. The force of the blast literally knocked me to the ground.

Moaning with pain, I rolled away to the side ? as far away from Larienna as possible ? and lay there, curled up into a tight ball, as she and Hrelvesuu lobbed spells at each other. My hands, arms and legs felt numb, and I could barely even hear the sounds of battle over the ringing in my ears.

At long last the booms and crashes died down a bit, and I realised that someone had probably won the fight. I cautiously opened my eyes to see Larienna standing over me. "Oops," she said. "Sorry."

"You idiot!" I growled, struggling into a sitting position. "You could have killed me!"

"I'm very sorry. I got a little? carried away." Sheesh, that was the understatement of the decade. "Would you like me to heal you?"

"No!" I didn't want her casting any more spells anywhere near me, thank you very much. "I'll do it myself." I tried to cast a healing spell, but I could still hardly move my fingers. "Sod it, I'll take a potion."

The one good thing to come out of that mission to Nchurdamz was the treasure I found there in Hrelvesuu's lair. The crates and barrels lining the walls contained several valuable gems, which would fetch quite a lot from an alchemist. Once we'd cleaned out the room, Larienna and I parted company ? apparently she 'felt uneasy' about something or other and wanted to investigate the ruins further. I was quite happy to let her.

I teleported back to Sadrith Mora and handed in Larienna's report to Hrundi, who paid me 500 septims and promoted me to Warder ? just one rank below Guardian. He had some more missions for me in the towns of Vos and Tel Mora, up on the north-eastern coast, but I didn't fancy making the six-day round trip again right now. After selling my gems to a Mages' Guild alchemist I had nearly 1,000 septims in all, easily enough to tide me over for the next few weeks.

Following a hot bath and a good night's sleep in Wolverine Hall, I woke up feeling a lot calmer and less overwhelmed. I was just about ready to face Sul-Matuul and Nibani Maesa again and tell them the? well, I hoped they would see it as good news. It would be a bit embarrassing if I walked in there proudly showing off my Moon-and-Star ring, only for them to go, "Crap, you don't mean you're SERIOUS?"

I Recalled to the Urshilaku camp, and was glad to find that the weather there was clear for once, though it was cold and overcast. As I walked through the camp, I spotted a familiar face ? the guy who'd made me grub up trama root for him on my first visit to the camp. He smiled at me, but once again I could see a hint of mockery in his eyes.

"I hear rumours, favoured guest," he said in a low voice, falling into step beside me. "I hear the Outlander earns honour and hospitality of the tribe. I hear the Outlander makes claim to be named 'Nerevarine'."

"And?"

He shook his head. "The people respect their ashkhan and wise woman. But these are strange tidings, and hard to believe."

It's not often you get such a perfect opportunity for revenge. I could hardly keep myself from grinning as I removed my left gauntlet and casually stretched out my hand, showing off the Moon-and-Star on my finger. "This mean anything to you?"

For a moment he just stared at it blankly, and then, slowly, the colour began to drain from his face. "The Moon-and-Star," he said hoarsely. "Then? then the stories are true. But how can you?" I could see him trying to grapple with the ludicrous notion that an outlander, an Imperial outlander, could actually be the Nerevarine.

"You know what, Shabinbael?" I said, suddenly remembering his name. "I don't know why, but I have this strange craving for trama root all of a sudden. Perhaps you could go and dig some up for me?"

His face was an absolute picture. "I ? Of course, Clanfriend."

Bwahaha. It was mean, I know, but I just couldn't resist. Ah, sweet sweet revenge.

By contrast, Nibani Maesa's reaction was surprisingly calm. All she did was examine the ring, and ask me to describe what I'd seen and heard in the Cavern of the Incarnate. "It is as I have seen in my dream," she said, when I'd explained everything. "It is a true dream, sent from Azura to guide me."

"So what do I do now?"

"You must go to Ashkhan Sul-Matuul to be named Urshilaku Nerevarine. I am confident that he will approve you, but I am sure he has things he wishes to say beforehand."

Nibani turned to be right about that. Sul-Matuul might have been skeptical up to now, but all that vanished instantly the moment I showed him the ring. "You wear the Moon-and-Star of Nerevar. This is a true sign. This is a miracle, a blessing of Azura, and no man may deny it."

"So you'd be willing to declare me the Nerevarine?"

He nodded. "You have passed the Third Trial, but the Fourth and Fifth Trials lie before you. I have spoken with Nibani Maesa, and I know these Trials. You wish to be called Urshilaku Nerevarine ? but first, would you hear the counsel of Sul-Matuul?"

I needed all the help I could get, frankly. "Okay."

"Good. First, I would give you warning. When you are called 'Nerevarine', the word must spread, and many must hear. Your enemies will hear, and come seeking your blood. And such friends as you may have among the Great Houses, those who heed the words of the Temple, they may forget their love for you. If you have business with the People of the Houses and Temple, you may wish to conduct that business first, before you are named Nerevarine."

I winced, remembering that Peakstar had said the same thing. "What sort of business do you mean?"

"The Fourth Trial is to join the three Great Houses of Vvardenfell under one Hortator. You must be named Hortator in turn by Houses Redoran, Hlaalu, and Telvanni."

'Hortator'? I'd heard that word before. "Forgive my ignorance, Ashkhan? but what exactly is a Hortator?"

"A Hortator is a war leader. When a greater enemy threatens, the Great Houses put aside their quarrels and choose a Hortator, a single war leader to lead all the Houses. Only a Great House council can name a Hortator, and all councils must agree."

My mouth fell open. "You want me to ask the Great House councils to make me their war leader?"

Sul-Matuul nodded. "Prove to them that Dagoth Ur threatens. When you are named Redoran Hortator, Hlaalu Hortator, and Telvanni Hortator, only then will you be the Hortator named in prophecy."

"Anything else?" I gasped, fighting back a wave of hysteria. What would I be asked to do next: travel to the moons and back? Take on a Daedric Prince in single combat? Persuade an Imperial tax official to grant me a refund?

"The Fifth Trial is to join the four tribes of the Ashlanders under the Nerevarine. They must put aside pride and tribal squabbles and together face the blighted hosts of Dagoth Ur. The Urshilaku shall name you Nerevarine, but the others may be more cautious." He let this sink in. "Do you wish me to call you Nerevarine?"

I was about to say "no", remembering what he'd said about finishing my business with the Houses first, when I remembered that I'd just told Shabinbael my secret out of pure spite. No doubt it'd be all over the camp by now ? and while the Urshilaku probably didn't get out much, it couldn't be too long before the story reached the cities as well. Talos, what a [censored] idiot I was.

Well, might as well get it over with. "Yes, Ashkhan," I said quietly. "I would like you to name me Nerevarine."

"So be it," he said, a solemn expression on his face. "Before my hearth and kin, and before the People of the Wastes, I name you Urshilaku Nerevarine, War Leader of the Urshilaku, and Protector of the People. In token of this I give you the Teeth, which shall be a sign to all Dunmer that you are the Nerevarine, and that the Urshilaku shall follow you in all things, even unto death, until the Enemy is defeated, or you are dead, or you give this back into my hand."

He laid an enchanted necklace of made of teeth around my shoulders. "You shall be Nerevarine of all the tribes, and Hortator of all the Great Houses," he continued. "You shall eat the sin of the unmourned house, and free the false gods. You must defeat the Sixth House, and Dagoth Ur. You must free the Tribunal from their curse. This shall be your duty as Urshilaku Nerevarine."

Five minutes later I wandered out of the tent, feeling like I'd been hit over the head with the flat of Sul-Matuul's battle axe. What was I going to do now? How was I even supposed to start the task of persuading every House and Ashlander tribe in Morrowind to declare me their war leader? And even supposing I somehow managed that, what was I going to do when they expected me to actually go and confront Dagoth Ur?

I tried to picture myself as a messiah figure, uniting the tribes of Morrowind under a single banner, boldly defying the might of the Dunmer authorities in defence of my beliefs. It wasn't easy, I must say.

Shabinbael approached me as I walked to the edge of the camp, handfuls of grubby roots in each hand. "Here is the trama root you asked for, Nerevarine."

"Um?" I said. "Oh, er, yes. Thanks." I took the roots from him and wandered off to cast an Almsivi Intervention spell, still in a daze.

As I rode the silt strider from Gnisis to Ald'ruhn that night, I decided that there was only one thing to do: go to Athyn Sarethi and confess everything. Well, nearly everything. It was a risky move ? for all I knew, he might go straight to the Temple to report me as a False Incarnate ? but he did owe me a favour, and he was the closest thing I had to a mentor now that Caius was gone. And if anyone could help me get started on the near-impossible task of becoming Redoran Hortator, it was him.

The first thing I did when I got back to Ald'ruhn was teleport to Vivec and go to my bank, where I collected Azura's Star from my deposit box. My reasoning was that if I showed it to Athyn, to prove that I was on friendly terms with Azura, he might be more willing to believe my Nerevarine tale. As I walked through Vivec, once again I had that uncomfortable feeling of being watched. Maybe I really was going mad, I thought ? after all, if anyone ever had an excuse?

I deposited some of the money I'd earned and then returned to Ald'ruhn, where I walked up to Skar to visit Athyn. My heart was thumping violently, and by the time I reached the door of Sarethi Manor, I was starting to seriously doubt whether this was a good idea.

How did I know I was the Nerevarine? Because Azura had told me. But how could I be sure she was telling the truth? I wouldn't normally pay much attention to the ravings of a giant tentacle monster, but I couldn't help remembering what Dagoth Ulen had said about the Daedra Lords, and their habit of screwing around with mortals for their own amusemant.

I took a deep breath and knocked on the door. A servant let me in and escorted me to Athyn, who was in his study. "Ah, you've returned!" he said, rising to greet me with a smile. "But you look very pale, Ada. Are you unwell?"

"No, I'm fine, I just? Athyn, what can you tell me about Azura?"

"The Lady of Twilight?" He frowned. "The Temple calls her one of the Good Daedra, and indeed, it is said she is the only one who shows compassion to her mortal followers. But I fear that like the other Princes, she is not to be trusted. Why are you asking me this?"

I hesitated, wondering where to begin. "You have cause to fear her?" Athyn said gently, his eyes fixed on my face. "You think you have displeased her somehow, perhaps?"

"No, not at all," I said. "Quite the opposite, actually. Look, maybe I'd better start at the beginning."

I told him all about my visit to Azura's shrine, the task she'd asked me ? okay, commanded me ? to perform for her, and how she'd rewarded me with her Star. Although he didn't say anything, I'm not sure he actually believed me until I took the Star out of my pack and showed it to him. He looked at it for a long time, turning it over in his hands and stroking the surface.

"I see," he said at last. "Well, my friend, it would seem you have the Lady's favour. I suggest you take care not to lose it."

"But the thing is, there's more. Lots more." I could feel my heart fluttering wildly. "I ? "

Suddenly I began to feel very strange. My first thought was that I must be sickening for something, the second that the floor suddenly seemed a lot closer than usual. I think I must actually have blacked out for a few seconds, because the next thing I knew I was sitting in a chair with a worried-looking Athyn staring down at me.

"Ada, you are not well. You are exhausted. What have you been doing these past few days?" He laid a hand on my shoulder. "Go home, and go to bed. Whatever you have to tell me can wait until tomorrow."

"No, no, it can't. It's important." I tried to get up out of the chair, but my limbs seemed to have turned to jelly all of a sudden. Ye gods, I really was exhausted.

I reached for my pack, which had fallen to the ground, and groped around for a stamina potion. Athyn watched in concern as I lifted it to my lips with both hands and gulped down the contents. "What, then, is so important?"

I had no idea if Athyn had even heard of the Nerevarine prophecies, but there was only one way to find out. Wordlessly I held up my hand to him, my fourth finger slightly raised, letting the Moon-and-Star sparkle in the light.

Athyn's brows shot up, and I heard him draw in breath sharply. He took my hand and lifted it up so that he could examine the ring more closely. I could only hope he'd realise it was an ancient relic, not just a fake knocked up by some dodgy enchanter.

"The moon and star," he murmured. "The mark of Nerevar."

"That's right." I closed my eyes and clasped my hands together on the desk, preparing for the worst. "Athyn? I think I may be the Nerevarine."

Yay! Ada's back. And as wonderful as ever! :twirl:

Woo-Hoo! Helena is back! (Does dachshund dance.)

Umm, hrmph. Sorry. (Vainly tries to recover shredded doggie dignity.)

First, so happy to hear you have found a job- sorry that it will mean longer waits between posts, but... we can't live by fanfic alone.

I loved Ada's wool-gathering about the life of a noble and her involuntary Varvur fantasy. Excellent update again.

We'll definately be here waiting when you can, and congrats on the new position!! Ada is Awesome as ever!!

I once feared the Neveragaine would never again tickle our funny bones. Ah, fear dispelled!!!

Readers, study the craft of Helena's writings. See that perfect balance and timing? I couldn't ask for better in my black belt students! Just like a sudden blindingly fast move in the dojo that takes out the opponent, so too Helena tells a story in a laid back style, then suddenly socks us from a completely unexpected angle with climix and anticlimix, pathos and both high and low humour, and even when we think we've seen it all and can prepare for the 'Helena Touch' she whacks us again from a completely unexpected angle!!!

My dear girl, if you fought as well as you write, you would be the Grand Dragon by now!!!

:bowdown:

:celebrate:

You made me chuckle

:goodjob:

Chapter 27: The Go-Between

There was a long silence. I opened my eyes to see Athyn staring down at me, his expression impossible to read.

"Very well," he said at last. "Tell me your story."

So I told him, right from the beginning. About the strange visions of Dagoth Ur, the bizarre side effects of corprus disease, the Dissident Priests, the Third Trial, and the Cavern of the Incarnate. I told him about my visits to the Ashlanders, and showed him the prophecies of the Stranger and the Seven Visions and the Lost Prophecies, as well as the tokens the Urshilaku had given me. And I told him what Sul-Matuul had told me, about needing to become Hortator and Nerevarine of every House and tribe on Vvardenfell.

And Athyn just listened, quietly, as always. I kept expecting him to start yelling for the guards, but he barely spoke except to ask me to go on.

"I know it all sounds completely insane and unbelievable," I finished, close to tears. "I spent weeks and weeks telling myself that none of this could possibly be true, but I can't help it ? it is true. And I had to tell you, because? well, if you don't believe me, who will?"

There was an agonisingly long pause. I cringed, waiting for the inevitable outburst. And then Athyn said, "I believe you."

"You... you do?" I could hardly breathe.

He nodded. "I believe, at least, that you have told me the truth. And that you are sincere in believing yourself to be the Nerevarine. But, Ada?" He sighed. "I must tell you that others will not be so easily convinced. You must know that the Temple regards all such claims as blasphemy."

"I know," I whispered.

"And as for the tasks you face, uniting the Houses? I cannot see how to achieve this. There may, perhaps, be a way for you to become Redoran Hortator? but the Hlaalu and Telvanni? They surely would never appoint a Redoran to that position."

Another seemingly endless silence followed. "What shall I do?" I asked, in a small voice.

"Firstly, I think you should tell no one else about this. Concentrate on your duties to Redoran, and to the Legion and guilds, if you wish. The higher you rise in the House, and the greater your reputation, the easier it will be to convince the other Councillors." I nodded. "The story must spread, of course, but it will certainly be best if you can first gain the support of the House."

"What do I need to do to rise in the House?"

"To become a House Father, you must earn the support of at least two of the Councilmen. And you must also build a stronghold."

I blinked. "A stronghold?"

"A stronghold."

I stared at him in bewilderment, wondering whether we understood the same thing by the word 'stronghold'. "You mean? an actual stronghold? With? walls, and guards, and? stuff?"

"Yes, my friend, that sort of stronghold."

Maybe it was Athyn who'd gone mad, not me. What did he expect me to do, dig one out with my bare hands? "I'm not wealthy, Athyn," I said. "You do know that, don't you? Don't get me wrong, I'd love to have my own stronghold, but?"

He nodded sympathetically. "I understand, muthsera, but it is necessary for your advancement in the House. I'm not sure how much it will cost, but you should speak with Galsa Gindu in the Council hall; she can contract to build strongholds. As for the Councillors, I would start by speaking with Mistress Brara Morvayn and Hlaren Ramoran."

"Where can I find them?"

"Mistress Morvayn moved into temporary quarters in the Redoran Council Hall after blighted creatures attacked her manor and killed her husband. And Hlaren Ramoran's manor is between my home and the entrance to Skar." He smiled. "He has a temper, especially with foreigners, but he trusts my judgement. I believe I can convince him to support us."

For the first time since being declared Nerevarine, I felt my heart lift a little. Us. We were a team, Athyn and I.

"Okay, I'll do that," I said. "And Athyn? thank you. Thank you so much for believing me, and for helping me. I just don't have words to?" Oh gods, I was crying again.

"You rescued my son. I have not forgotten." He laid a hand on my shoulder. "Now go home and rest. You have a difficult task ahead of you, Ada."

I took his advice and returned to the Fighters' Guild, too tired to do anything except fall into bed and sleep for the rest of the day. It hadn't really occurred to me before now, but I really had been pushing myself incredibly hard over the last few days? weeks? well, months, to be quite honest. Perhaps I ought to let up for a while, but I didn't see how I could with everything I had on my plate.

It was midday the next day when I finally woke up ? nearly twenty-four hours later. If any ash zombies had come to attack me they'd had found me an easy target, but for some reason, they hadn't. I remembered Caius talking about them being controlled by Sixth House cults, and then recalled the shrine I'd found in that Ashlander woman's house while investigating Varvur's ash statue. Perhaps I'd destroyed the local Sixth House base, and that was why the creatures had stopped attacking me here?

I felt dim and groggy after such a long sleep, but I couldn't sit around ? I had business to be getting on with. A bath and a meal left me feeling a little more awake, and I spent some time wondering what to do first: talk to the Councillors, or go to Galsa Gindu to discuss strongholds. Eventually I settled on the former, because I still couldn't for the life of me see how I could afford to have a stronghold built (let alone pay for all the guards and servants a place like that would need). Short of robbing the Vivec treasuries, or having a long-lost wealthy relative die and leave me a fortune, I couldn't see any solution.

I decided to visit Brara Morvayn first ? after all, we women had to stick together. She was living in what you'd call 'reduced circumstances', namely a small and cramped apartment in the Redoran council hall. When I met her I was surprised by how young she looked, despite the deep grief etched into her face.

"My husband Remas was a Councillor of House Redoran," she told me. "He died defending our manor from blighted monsters, and I now hold his seat on the Council. Did Athyn Sarethi send you here to get my support?"

I nodded. "Well, I will support you, even though you are an outlander, if you help clear the beasts from Morvayn Manor."

"What happened to the manor?"

"My husband died defending it from misshapen beasts that came through the Ghostfence. He believed that the beasts were attracted by a statue we received a few weeks before the attacks began."

That sounded horribly familiar. "How long ago did this happen?"

"Almost a year ago."

"A year?" I said in shock. "And no one's cleared the beasts out of the manor yet?"

"Everyone is terrified of being infected with corprus disease," she explained. "But Athyn tells me you have recovered from the disease, and become immune to it. I'm not sure I believe this, but if you will enter my house and remove the ash statue, I will give you my support on the Council."

She gave me a key to Morvayn Manor, and told me I should bring the ash statue to the priest Lloros Sarano so that he could destroy it. After that I set out for Morvayn manor, which was on the eastern side of town, near the Temple. I wondered why the Morvayns were the only Redoran family not to have a manor under Skar.

The inside of the house was dark and creepy. In the main entrance hall, a table was set for dinner, left exactly as it had been when the house was abandoned. It saddened me to think how beautiful the place must have been before it was invaded by corprus beasts.

I searched through the lower rooms of the house, noting the overturned furniture and household items scattered over the floor. The corprus stalkers didn't pose much of a threat now that I was immune to the disease ? they were strong, but slow and clumsy. Far more scary were the red candles they had placed everywhere and the Sixth House symbols scrawled all over the walls and floor. I even found the body of Remas Morvayn, gruesome but surprisingly well-preserved ? he must have been infected with corprus before he died.

Finally I found the ash statue on top of a crate. I took it to Lloros Sarano at the Temple, who promised to destroy it, and went back to Brara Morvayn to tell her the good news. She promised me her support, and despite my protests, insisted on giving me an amulet as a reward. I was going to be able to open my own jewellery store at this rate.

Next up was Hlaren Ramoran. On entering his manor I noticed that it was rather larger and more luxurious than the Sarethis', though not quite as grand as Bolvyn Venim's. When I reached Ramoran's private quarters, I found that he was busy and couldn't see me immediately. Instead I had to deal with a female bodyguard, Nalvyna Sarinith, who seemed very protective of her Lord and glared at me suspiciously the whole time.

Only when I asked her what it was like working for Ramoran did she finally relax a little. "He is a kind and noble man," she told me. "I swore an oath to serve him, but sometimes it is difficult... It is a great honour, one I struggle to live with every day."

I was about to ask her what she meant by that, when Hlaren's previous visitor came out of his study. Leaving my weapons with the suspicious Nalvyna, I went in to see the Councillor.

Hlaren Ramoran was the oldest of the Councillors I'd met so far. Although I couldn't see any signs of the bad temper Athyn had mentioned, he did seem a little distracted by something or other. "So you want my support on the Council?" he said at last, when I explained what I was here for. "Very well, I shall grant support to an outlander, if she can prove herself. First, I need someone to collect the taxes from Gnisis."

Collect the taxes? That seemed like an insanely simple task for a potential House Father ? not that I was complaining, of course. "My regular tax collector has fallen ill," he continued, "but the duties are quite simple. Speak with Hetman Abelmawia and get the taxes from him, then bring them back to me."

Ah, I knew this old trick. The Hetman would give me the taxes, along with a letter for Ramoran. Then when I arrived back in Ald'ruhn, it would turn out there was a 'shortfall' in the amount he'd given me, and I'd have to make it up out of my own funds to prove my honesty.

Well, I wasn't falling for that. "How much should the taxes be this month?" I asked innocently.

"There should be sixty drakes in all."

I hesitated, still convinced that this had to be some kind of trick. It was just too easy. "So what's the catch?"

"The catch?" he said, looking confused.

"That's really all you want me to do, collect the taxes? No peasant rebellions or mad Telvanni wizards to deal with or anything?"

"No, sera, nothing like that." He was starting to look a little impatient. "It is a simple enough task, is it not?"

I decided to leave before he got fed up and decided he wouldn't support me after all. On the way to the silt strider port, I realised that I didn't have to travel that way ? I could get to Gnisis immediately by casting Recall to the Urshilaku camp followed by an Intervention spell. But the moment I arrived in the camp I was spotted by the trader Kurapli, who rushed up and flung her arms around me. "It is Ada! Nerevarine!"

Of course, there was no getting away after that. The Ashlanders insisted that I stay for dinner, and I really didn't have the heart to refuse. I don't know exactly what was in the stew they served me, and I'm not entirely sure I want to ? all I can say is that it tasted rather better than it looked.

I must say that for once it was nice to be treated with awe and admiration, rather than hostility and suspicion. The tribesmen bombarded me with questions about my visits to Lost Kogoruhn and the Cavern of the Incarnate. They wanted to know how my Nerevarine quest was going, and whether I'd managed to convince any Great House councillors to declare me Hortator. I told them I was 'working on it'.

The days were getting shorter and shorter as winter rolled in, and by the time I arrived Gnisis it had been dark for several hours. I only just had time to grab the taxes from Hetman Abelmawia before catching the silt strider, though I did count them carefully first ? sixty drakes in all, as Lord Ramoran had said.

On the journey back, I kept myself amused reading the books that the ancestor ghosts had given me. One of them was called Sithis and was completely unintelligible; the other was part of a series called the 36 Lessons of Vivec ? supposedly written by Vivec himself ? and somehow managed to be even more unintelligible. As far as I could tell, it seemed to be describing a highly intimate encounter between Vivec and Molag Bal ? the Daedra Lord known as the 'King of [censored]'. On second thoughts, it's probably a good thing I didn't understand any more of it.

I showed up punctually at Ramoran Manor the morning after arriving back in Ald'ruhn, and handed over the taxes. I still couldn't understand why he would bother testing me this way ? had he really thought I would risk my position in the House for just sixty drakes? If so, he had to have a pretty poor opinion of outlanders. Or perhaps just of me.

"Is there anything else I can do for you, Lord Ramoran?" I asked politely.

"Yes, I have another favour to ask." Aha! I knew it.

"In my youth, I was involved with a woman named Nalvilie Saren," he continued. "I was quite? fond of her, and have often wondered what happened to her." To my astonishment, I realised that he was blushing. "Would you be willing to seek her out for me?"

I stared at him, fighting a sudden urge to laugh. Was he serious? He was offering me his support on the Council? in return for tracking down his old girlfriend? I wasn't sure whether to find that hilarious, or rather sweet.

"Of course, serjo," I said meekly, trying desperately to keep a tremor of laughter out of my voice. "Where should I start looking?"

"I believe the Saren family lives in the Redoran Compound in Vivec," he said. "That may be a good place to start. When you find her, tell that I do not care what happened in the past, and that I can support her. Invite her to meet with me here in Ald'ruhn."

Ooh. There was some kind of story there, clearly.

Somehow I made it out of the door of Ramoran Manor before giving in to a fit of the giggles. The nearby guards and passers-by looked at me as if I were mad. Well, they'd have plenty more reasons to think so before the month was up.

As I was entering the Mages Guild to travel to Vivec, I was waylaid by Edwinna Elbert, who was carrying a book under her arm. "Ah, Ada!" she exclaimed. "I was hoping you would drop by. I have finished my study of Chimarvamidium."

For a moment I wasn't sure what she was talking about, and then I remembered that this was the book she'd asked me to, ahem, 'borrow' for her. "Was it any help?" I asked.

She shook her head. "Can you believe this isn't about a Dwemer construct at all? This book was completely useless. In any case, I need you to return it before Sirilonwe suspects anything."

"Oh, no. Edwinna, I can't ? "

"Of course you can!" she interrupted. I looked around desperately for a way to escape, but she was already pressing the book into my hands. "Take it back to the Mages Guild in Vivec, and make sure you put it back exactly where you found it."

Mentally swearing never under any circumstances to do another favour for Edwinna, I stuffed the book into my pack and went on to speak with the Guild Guide. Over in the Vivec guild, I was forced to ask Sirilonwe for another random spell to give me a shot at putting the book back. Luckily she didn't seem to have noticed it was missing, and all I had to do was slip back into the closet and place it in the opened chest. Being thrown in jail for stealing would have been a pretty dismal end to my Nerevarine aspirations.

After that I set out for the Redoran canton, which luckily was right next to the Foreign Quarter. All I had to do was walk over a bridge and I was there. I discovered that the Saren manor was in the plaza on top of the canton, so I made my way there, hoping Nalvilie would be at home.

No such luck, unfortunately. When I spoke to Arns Saren, the lady of the manor, her face went suddenly rigid at the mention of Nalvilie's name. "She is no longer my daughter."

"I? I'm sorry? Do you mean she's dead?"

She shook her head grimly. "She has disgraced our family. I will not say more."

I was just wondering how to proceed from here when a wealthy-looking nobleman, presumably Arns' husband, entered the room. "Ah, a visitor," he said with a polite smile. "I am Toris Saren. How can I help you, outlander?"

His wife murmured something to him in Dunmeris. All I could catch was the word 'Nalvilie', but the smile instantly vanished from Saren's face. "Nalvilie Saren is disgraced, as my wife has told you. Please do not remind us of this."

"I understand, serjo," I said ? though I didn't, of course ? "but I do need to speak to her on a very important matter. If she isn't here, could you at least give me some idea of where to find her?"

The two of them exchanged glances, and eventually Toris heaved a sigh. "If I tell you, will you leave here and promise to never mention the subject in my presence again?"

"Of course."

"Very well. Nalvilie owns a consignment shop on the south-side canols of the St. Olms Canton. She is disgraced, and she disgraces any who speak with her." He said this with an extremely pointed stare. "Now, please leave as you promised."

Sheesh, I thought, as I left the manor. What the heck was going on with the Saren family? I wondered just what sort of hideous crime I would have to commit to make my own parents disown me like that. Even if they'd known about my arrest for murder, I couldn't imagine them telling people that I was no longer their daughter.

I took a gondola to the St Olms canton, and eventually found Nalvilie in one of the canolside slum houses. Calling it a 'slum' was actually a bit unfair ? the one-room house was small and simply furnished, but clean and tidy. Even so, it was a massive step down from the grandeur of Saren Manor.

Nalvilie herself was a middle-aged woman with a hard look about her. She might have been attractive when she was younger, but her recent life had clearly put paid to that. She was polite enough at first, but the moment I mentioned Hlaren Ramoran, her brows shot up in disbelief. "What? You say that Hlaren Ramoran wants to meet with me, even if it would disgrace him?"

"Er, yes, that's ? "

"No, even now that I will not do. I never liked the way he kept hanging around like a lost scrib." She scowled. "Tell him once more that my answer is still no."

I tried to protest, but she just shook her head contemptuously. "I do not care what Hlaren Ramoran might have to say. I will not see him. That is final."

As you can imagine, by this time I was dying to know what had happened between the two of them ? but I couldn't exactly ask, could I? All I could do was leave and return to Ald'ruhn in the knowledge that I'd failed. I hoped Ramoran would understand. After all, it really wasn't my fault if Nalvilie refused point-blank to even consider seeing him.

At least Edwinna was pleased to hear that I'd returned Chimarvamidium. In return she gave me some amulets with Divine and Almsivi Intervention enchantments ? which were pretty darn useful right now, I had to admit. Even so, I decided not to ask her for any more duties; I was in enough trouble already.

After lunch I went to see Lord Ramoran. He was busy again, so I had to wait outside with his bodyguard Nalvyna, who was keen to know what sort of tasks he'd asked me to do. "She has disgraced herself and her family," she said, when I told her about Nalvilie. "I do not understand why my Lord would still wish to find her after the way she treated him. Sometimes I wish..." She hesitated. "But no, it would not be proper."

I stared at her, suspicion gradually dawning on me. So it was like that, was it? Well, well. Admittedly I couldn't imagine how anyone could find Hlaren Ramoran attractive, even by Dunmer standards, but I guess there's no accounting for taste.

Just then I was called into Hlaren's study, so I didn't have any more time to talk with Nalvyna. "Have you been to Vivec?" he asked eagerly, as soon as I entered. "Do you have word from Nalvilie Saren?"

I looked into his wrinkled, hopeful face, and I just couldn't bring myself to tell him the truth. "She's? dead," I told him, chickening out completely. "I'm so sorry, serjo."

"She? is dead?"

I nodded, hoping he'd never find out the truth. If he did, I could just claim that was what her family had told me ? it was plausible enough, given the way they'd reacted?

Hlaren lowered his eyes to his desk, staring at his hands. "I am saddened to hear this, but perhaps it is for the best," he said at last, his voice thick. "Well, you did what you could. I will give you my support on the council."

Poor guy, he looked so sad. I really should have just left well alone, but I couldn't help myself.

"Lord Ramoran," I said. "I know it's really none of my business, but? have you ever thought of looking for a wife closer to home?"

The moment the words were out of my mouth, I instantly regretted them. Luckily Ramoran didn't seem to take offence; perhaps he was just too downcast. "Of course," he said, with a shrug and a sad smile. "But I fear it is too late now. What woman could care for an old fool like me?"

"You don't look old to me," I said, lying through my teeth. "And I think there is someone who cares for you. Nalvyna Sarinith, your bodyguard."

"Nalvyna?" He looked genuinely astonished. "She is an excellent warrior, and has served me faithfully for several years. But?"

"I've talked to her, and she seems very fond of you. Not that she said anything," I added hastily, "but? well, you know. We women can sense these things."

Hlaren was silent for several seconds as he digested this. "She... I... Hmm. I don't know what to say." He shook his head. "Perhaps if I were younger... if it weren't so improper..."

"Do these things really matter so much?" I asked, deciding that having come this far there was no point in backing down. "You were willing to meet with Nalvilie, serjo, even if it would have disgraced you?"

"True, I did not care so much for propriety when pursuing Nalvilie Saren." He nodded slowly. "Very well, I will consider what you have said. I thank you, sera."

I thanked him politely in return and left the room, quite astonished at how well that had gone. Apparently I'd just discovered a new talent: matchmaking.

With the support of two of the Councillors, all I needed now was a stronghold. And a pretty big 'all' it was. I knew perfectly well that I couldn't afford it, and even if I could, I wouldn't know the first thing about how to build one. All I could do was go to Galsa Gindu and hope she'd give me some idea of where to start.

Galsa's house in the Council Hall was filled with architectural books and papers. She certainly seemed to know her stuff, and to my surprise, she didn't simply burst out laughing when I told her that I needed a stronghold. "Certainly," she said, "but I will need 5,000 drakes for labour and materials."

I was even more surprised to hear her name such a low price. It was still more than I could afford, but not nearly as much as I had expected. Not that I knew much about the building trade, but I'd hardly have thought you could build a cottage for 5,000 septims.

"Only 5,000 drakes?" I asked. "Nothing else?"

"You must also bring me a construction contract from Duke Dren in Ebonheart. Here on Vvardenfell, the Duke must issue a construction contract before we lay the first founding stones for any building. This rule is often overlooked by the Hlaalu and Telvanni, but House Redoran is honourable, and I will not break these rules."

Well, that didn't sound too bad, though I had no idea whether Dren would be willing to issue a contract or not. Being Imperial, though, I had plenty of experience dealing with bureaucracy. I just hoped he wouldn't ask for more money to 'speed up the planning process'.

I asked where the stronghold would be built, and she told me there was a suitable site at a place called 'Bal Isra'. When she showed me where it was on the map, my heart sank. It was miles away from Ald'ruhn, right out in the Ashlands ? just about the least convenient place she could possibly have chosen. Why anyone would want a stronghold built there was beyond me.

Still, none of that would matter unless I could somehow raise 5,000 septims within the next few days. I considered the problem over dinner at the Rat in the Pot, and concluded that I had two options: take out a loan, or find a way to sell Sheogorath's ring. There were a few other things I could sell, but none of them would fetch the money I needed.

I decided to visit my bank manager first thing the next morning. After washing down my meal with a glass or two of wine, I was just preparing to leave when a slightly-too-loud conversation at a nearby table caught my ear.

"Have you heard the latest?" a male voice was saying. "They say that another outlander is claiming to be the Nerevarine."

My hand jerked so violently that I nearly knocked over my glass. There was a chorus of groans from his companions. "Not another one! Who is it this time?"

"I'm not sure. I only heard it from some drunken f'lah who'd been speaking to an even more drunken Ashlander. All I know is that they're saying it's a woman."

"Big deal," said someone else. "'Lord Nerevar is coming back to save Morrowind.' About time, I say. Where was he when the Empire walked in here and took over?" There were murmurs of agreement.

I didn't dare to move, or even look at the other patrons. My face felt as hot as fire, and at every moment I was terrified that someone would look over and go "There she is!" Finally, after what seemed like an age, the conversation drifted on to other topics.

I leaned back in my seat, my heart thumping wildly. After months of treating the whole business like a kind of game, it was gradually starting to sink in that things were getting really serious now, and I couldn't keep this a secret for ever. If I wanted to fulfil the trials, at some point I was going to have to come out and openly declare myself the Nerevarine ? and a whole lot of people were going to be really angry with me. The Temple authorities in particular would be anything but pleased to have to deal with another 'False Incarnate'.

Could I do it, I wondered? Was I really cut out to be the saviour of Morrowind?

Now I won't get all self-righteous and pretend I didn't want to be a hero ? as far as I was concerned, if I could help people and win fame and fortune in the process, so much the better. But this particular kind of heroism ? the saving-the-world, uniting-the-people-against-a-common-threat type ? wasn't in my style at all. Certainly I'd come to feel some sympathy for the people of Vvardenfell, even affection in some cases, but I still didn't entirely see why I should be the one to sort out all their problems for them. After all, as people kept reminding me, it was their country.

Then there were the practical concerns. I might possibly be able to take on Dagoth Ur, with enough high-powered armour and weaponry, but that was nothing to the task of getting myself made Hortator in the first place. Sul-Matuul had said something about the Moon-and-Star ring granting Nerevar supernatural powers of persuasion. Well, if it was true, I'd definitely need them.

I didn't feel any more persuasive, certainly. On the other hand? I'd told Athyn a completely unbelievable story, and he'd believed it. And I'd managed to talk the Sarens into helping me find their daughter, and persuaded a Redoran lord to consider marriage to his own bodyguard?

Well, I'd just have to take things as they came. If the worst came to the worst, I could always fall back on my inherited racial talent, the 'Voice of the Emperor'. Perhaps there were some advantages to being an Imperial Nerevarine, after all?

I just finished chapters 5-26 last night and your story was so vivid and memorable that I seriously dreamed of Morrowind last night.

Your story is so hilarious and brings back so many memories because I really did wonder why Caius Cosades never had on a shirt and I was pretty annoyed when Curio wanted me to strip so I could have his support. I hope more comes soon! :icecream:

Yeah! Ada is back!! I hope your new position is to your liking, Your writing is Awesome (as usual) !!

It was a wonderful ray of sunshine on this cloudy morning to see that my favorite reluctant Incarnate had returned. Again, even within the serious events of this part of the main quest, you manage to provide humor:



That got a snort from me, as I imagined a goggling Ada and a long-suffering Athyn sitting in Sarethi Manor.

Dear friend Helena, I giggled at that point too!

Ah, nice to have Ada back again. Wonderfully done with your unique touch.

Happy New Year everyone! Hope you all had a good Christmas etc...

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Chapter 28: Coward Of The Canton

The next morning I went back to Vivec, yet again, and paid another visit to my bank manager. He just told me the same thing he'd said before: that I'd have to go to the mainland to find a buyer for my ring.

"But it's urgent," I said in exasperation. "Don't you know anyone on Vvardenfell who might buy it?"

His lips twitched. "Well, I've heard say there's a talking mudcrab somewhere on Azura's Coast who's pretty free with his gold."

"Haha," I said. "No, seriously. I really need the money."

"Very well," he said at last. "I'll make some enquiries. In the meantime, perhaps you'd like to take out a loan?"

It seemed that I didn't have any other choice. I agreed to borrow 5,000 septims at the bank's standard interest rate, with the first repayment of just over 500 drakes due in a week's time. If I wanted to eat over the next month, as well as build a stronghold, I'd have to get cracking with those Fighter's Guild missions ? and find myself some caves to loot as well.

At least I'd cleared one hurdle, I thought. Now all I needed to do was persuade Duke Vedam Dren ? a Hlaalu ? that what Vvardenfell really needed right now was another Redoran stronghold.

My next point of call was Ebonheart. For once I travelled there by boat, not wanting to make use of Vivec's shrine at a time like this. I couldn't help thinking about how the Nerevarine was supposed to bring down the 'false gods' as part of the prophecy. Heaven knew how the Temple, let alone Almsivi themselves, would react to that bit.

Anyway, I didn't have time to worry about that right now. I went to the Grand Council chambers in Ebonheart, where I'd met Llerar Mandas a couple of weeks ago, and found myself in a long line of petitioners waiting to see the Duke. Luckily he seemed to operate an 'open-door' policy.

Vedam Dren was a thoughtful-looking man with smooth, pleasant manners. I'd been a little nervous about meeting him, remembering that his brother Orvas was rumoured to be head of the Camonna Tong, but the Duke himself seemed friendly enough towards outlanders ? if only because he owed his title, wealth, and position to the Empire. After introducing myself I explained about my need for a stronghold, and asked if he'd be willing to grant me a construction contract.

Dren looked hard at me before answering. "I am not sure if I should issue you a contract," he said slowly. "But Vvardenfell faces many threats today. I will grant you a contract if you vow to do what you can for my people."

"Of course," I said, rather surprised by how easily he'd agreed. "Is there anything in particular you'd like me to ? "

"That is good enough for me," he interrupted. "Take this contract. Use your stronghold for the defence of my people, and as an aid in your fight against our enemies."

And with that he waved me away and ushered in the next petitioner, leaving me staring open-mouthed at the paper in my hand. That was it? Seriously? Back in Cyrodiil, it would probably have taken a month just to fill out the forms.

I carefully filed away the contract and walked back to the docks, where I took the boat back to Vivec. It wasn't until half-way through the journey that I took it back out to actually read it, and when I did, I nearly fainted.

"His Grace, the Duke of Vvardenfell, hereby grants Ada Ventura the right to build a stronghold of no more than fifty persons ?" Fifty persons?! "? and of no more than 400 feet in any direction." Four hundred feet? "Ada Ventura may hire no more than 10 Men-At-Arms and retainers to defend the stronghold?" This wasn't a stronghold, it was a bloody village!

Once again I got that feeling of being trapped in a bizarre dream. Not exactly an unpleasant dream ? come on, who wouldn't want a mini-village built in their honour? ? but something that was just far too good to be real and lasting. At one time I'd had ambitions of rising high in the Fighters' Guild, maybe even making Champion (and finally getting my revenge on that bastard Modryn Oreyn), and perhaps finding someone to settle down with once I finally got tired of the wandering life. Never once had I imagined that something like this might happen to me.

Shaking my head, I stuffed the contract back into my pack and settled back for the rest of the journey. Just as I was stepping off the docks at the Foreign Quarter, I spotted a young man walking in the other direction, and as he drew closer I realised that it was Varvur. I had a sudden panicky urge to avoid him, until I realised that this was completely stupid ? what did it matter what people thought? Besides, he'd already spotted me.

"Hello, Ada," he said with one of those heart-melting smiles. "It's good to see you. What are you doing in Vivec?"

"I just got back from Ebonheart, actually. I went to ask Duke Dren for a construction contract to build a stronghold."

"A stronghold!" His eyes widened. "Then you are to be a House Father?"

"If everything goes well, yes."

Varvur shook his head incredulously. "You have been here only a few months, and already risen so far in our House? yet I've lived in Ald'ruhn all my life, and only reached the rank of Oathman. It shames me."

"Hey, it could be worse. I lived with a merchant family for eighteen years without learning the first thing about business." That won a reluctant smile from him. "So what are you here for, anyway?"

"I have come to perform some duties for Faral Retheran at the Redoran treasury." His expression darkened slightly. "It seems a Redoran in Vivec has shamed the House by refusing to fight a duel of honour. I must persuade him to change his mind."

"Well, good luck with that." From the look on his face I could see that he really wasn't looking forward to this. "Would you like me to come along and help, er, persuade him? Might be easier with two of us."

Varvur hesitated for a second, and then nodded. "Yes, perhaps you are right. It would be good to have a second person there for, er?"

"Moral support?"

"Yes."

We went to the Redoran canton to speak with Faral Retheran, the House agent who handled Redoran business in Vivec. She told us that the reluctant duellist ? a man named Rothis Nethan ? was hiding out in the Flowers of Gold tavern. Apparently he hadn't quite grasped the concept of 'hiding' properly, because it turned out the place was right below us in the Redoran waistworks.

"Okay, Varvur, we need a strategy," I announced, as we walked to the tavern. "You know the 'good guard, bad guard' routine, right?"

He shook his head, looking puzzled. I sighed. "It's what the Watch do when they're interrogating suspects. Basically one of us is the 'good guard', so they act all friendly ? well, relatively friendly ? while the other one tries to bully and intimidate the guy into doing what we want."

Varvur grimaced. "I will leave the bullying and intimidation to you, I think. Er, not that I meant?"

"I know what you meant. You need to toughen up a bit, Varvur," I said, winking to let him know that I was teasing him. "If you can scare the life out of your opponent before the battle begins, you've already won."

The Flowers of Gold was filled with Redoran retainers enjoying their lunch, but it was obvious which one was Rothis Nethan: he was the ridiculously over-dressed young man sitting in the corner, trying to look inconspicuous while svcking down ale like there was no tomorrow. As we approached his table, he looked up at us and his face fell. "You're here about that duel, aren't you?"

"Right you are," I said, with a grim smile. "So why didn't you turn up for it, you snivelling little coward?"

In a voice almost too low to hear, he mumbled, "I couldn't."

"And why not?"

This time I couldn't even hear what he said in reply. "You bring shame on our House, sera," Varvur said quietly.

Rothis said nothing, but he looked as if he were trying not to roll his eyes. "Don't you care for your own honour?" Varvur pressed him. "Do you wish to be seen as weak and cowardly?"

"Well, I'd rather be alive and a coward than dead!" Nethan took a long swig from his glass of ale. "There's no way I can beat Brethas Deras. He's too good a fighter."

"Don't be so sure, sera. You may surprise yourself."

"That's easy for you to say!" He flung up his hands. "Look at me ? I'm a scholar, not a warrior. Why should I risk my life in this silly duel?"

I could kind of sympathise, actually. Coming from a place where duelling was regarded as a bit of a joke, I still found it rather hard to take the whole business seriously. It made keeping up the 'bad guard' act a bit difficult.

"Well, maybe you should have thought of that before shooting your mouth off, shouldn't you?" I countered. "Come on, Rothis, just man up a bit. Ten to one he'll only smack you around a little and leave it at that."

Rothis shook his head glumly. "No, it has to be a duel to the death. He'd kill me for sure."

"Oh, for crying out loud." I was already getting tired of this. "I'll fight the damn duel for you. At least that way they'll know some of us Redorans aren't cowards."

His eyes grew wide. "Would you? That's ? "

Before he could get any further, Varvur's hand shot out and grabbed him by the collar. "Worthless s'wit! No, she cannot fight a duel for you ? and if you had a trace of honour, you would not ask her to!" His eyes practically glowed with anger.

"Guys, calm down," I said, suddenly aware of a dozen pairs of eyes riveted on us. "This isn't helping. Rothis, what would convince you to fight this duel?"

I was expecting him to say "nothing," but instead, he hesitated. At last he said sulkily, "I'm not fighting any duels without some way of evening the odds."

"And how could we do that?"

"You'll have to help me out. If you bring me ten standard potions of healing, that should give me a better chance against Brethas Deras."

Varvur and I exchanged glances. Following a brief discussion, and a hunt through our packs, we managed to come up with ten potions between us.

"You do realise you won't actually have much time to drink them during the fight?" I said to Nethan. "Somehow I don't think this Brethas is going to politely hold back to let you swig down a few potions."

Rothis shrugged and nodded. He gulped down the remains of his drink, then breathed in deeply. "Okay. Come to the Arena this evening. I'll be there this time."

We watched him haul himself to his feet and walk rather unsteadily the door of the tavern. "I thought you were going to leave the bullying to me," I murmured to Varvur.

"Forgive me," he said stiffly. "I lost my temper."

We agreed to meet up in the Arena later that day, and then went our separate ways. I went back to Ald'ruhn for a late lunch before taking the money and construction contract to Galsa Gindu. "Yes, this is adequate," she said, after checking over the contract. "Construction will begin as soon as I give the orders. In a week or so, come speak with me again."

A week? Again, not that I'm an expert, but I wouldn't have thought they could even get the foundations laid in that time. Maybe Morrowind builders were just very efficient?

I spent the rest of the afternoon shopping for provisions, and returned to Vivec in the early evening to watch the duel. I hadn't been to Vivec's Arena before, and I was quite impressed by its size ? though of course, it was nothing to the one in the Imperial City. There weren't many people in the stalls, though; apparently no one much cared about the outcome of this duel.

Varvur was waiting for me near the entrance. "So what do you think?" I asked, as we took our seats. "Is he in with a chance?"

"I'm not sure. His opponent is a Hlaalu, I believe, but I haven't heard of him before now."

At that moment a voice announced the entrance of the duellists. Varvur and I leaned forward over the guardrail to see them more clearly, and my jaw dropped.

The Hlaalu, Brethas Deras, was dressed in full bonemold armour with an enchanted sword ? nothing unusual about that. But Rothis' armour was ? well, it wasn't. He wasn't wearing anything except the clothes we'd seen him in earlier that day. Had he lost his mind?

As I watched in utter disbelief, he drew a ridiculously tiny dagger from his belt. It looked like something you'd use to cut paper.

"The hell?" I gasped, turning to Varvur. His face had gone slightly pale. "The hell?"

"Almsivi," he whispered. "Why did he not tell us he had no sword or armour? We could have?" His voice trailed off.

"And they're going to fight a duel to the death? Varvur, somebody has to stop them!"

"We cannot." He looked utterly miserable. "Duellists may use whatever equipment they choose. There is no rule."

"But ? " I broke off as the announcer gave the signal for the duel to begin, and the two opponents rushed at each other.

What followed was nothing less than a slaughter. Rothis actually put up a reasonable fight, for someone wielding what looked like a child's toy against a heavily-armed opponent. But honestly, he might as well just have run straight onto Deras' sword.

I watched, helpless, as the most insanely one-sided duel in the history of Morrowind (and possibly all Tamriel) unfolded in the ring beneath us. Shock and disbelief turned to rage as I realised that Brethas Deras had no intention of showing any mercy, just because his opponent lacked a few trivial things like a sword and armour. I was so angry that for a few moments I seriously considered jumping over the barrier to help Rothis ? except that it was too far down and I wasn't equipped for a duel in any case.

By the end of the duel I was seething with fury. I'd seen some pretty disgusting things since arriving in Morrowind, but I honestly don't think anything else had sickened me quite as much as this. All the other killings, no matter how cruel and unjustified, had at least had some reason behind them. But this? this was just completely senseless.

"What in Stendaar's name was that?" I sputtered to Varvur.

He bowed his head. "It is sad. But at least the honour of the House has been defended."

"Honour? How was that in any way honourable? That wasn't a duel, that was just ? a farce. A complete farce." I shook my head. "A guy just got killed over some stupid insult, in a fight he had absolutely no chance of winning, and you think it's all right just because he showed up?"

"You don't understand," he protested. "Yours is a mercantile culture. If someone slandered you in Cyrodiil, you would? make them pay you, perhaps? But ours is a warrior culture. If someone insults you and you fail to challenge them, it makes you look weak, and people will despise you for it."

"And if you turn up for life-or-death battle with no weapons or armour, what the hell does that make you?" I snarled. "Come to that, what does it make your opponent? There's no bloody 'honour' in beating someone who can't fight back!"

"Sore loser, Redoran?" said a taunting voice behind me. I spun round to see Brethas Deras, still in armour but without his helmet, surrounded by a group of his supporters. "At least Rothis Nethan showed up this time. You Redorans sure talk a lot about honour, but when it comes time to test it, you fail."

There was no way I was going to let this pass. "Are you joking?" I snapped. "Come back when you've fought a real duel and then we can discuss 'honour'. Who's your next opponent, a five-year-old girl armed with a lollipop stick?"

Deras' expression had turned distinctly ugly. "Watch your tongue, outlander, or it may just be you."

"Try me," I growled. We glowered at each other, and then I felt Varvur's hand on my arm.

"Ada, be careful," he said in a low voice. "What you just said was all but a challenge."

"Don't worry, Varvur. Somehow I have this strange feeling he's not likely to take me up on it." I turned my back on Brethas and his friends. "Come on, let's go."

"Apologise first."

Heaving a sigh, I turned back to Brethas. "Sorry," I said flatly. I could see him struggling with his pride, but he clearly had the sense to realise I would not be quite such a pushover as Rothis Nethan. After a second or two he jerked his head to the rest of his posse, motioning to them to leave.

"N'wah," I heard one of them mutter as they walked off. As insults go it was pretty feeble, but it might have been just enough to tip me over the edge ? if Varvur hadn't taken hold of my arms, quietly but firmly, and literally held me back.

His hands grasped my wrists tightly. I stared down at them and slowly unclenched my fists, seeing livid red marks where my nails had dug into my palms.

"Shall we go for dinner?" he asked softly.

I drew a few long breaths, trying to calm myself down. "Okay. Let's do that."

We returned to the 'Flowers of Gold' and settled down to a dinner of nix-hound meat and ash yams, washed down with plenty of shein. With a good meal and a few drinks inside me, I felt the anger slowly bleed out, and shame creep in to replace it. Gods, I'd come close to challenging Brethas to a duel as pointless as the one he'd just fought. And it wouldn't even have been justified ? sure, the guy hadn't exactly covered himself in glory, but it wasn't his fault that Rothis had turned up virtually unarmed.

"I am sorry you had to see that," Varvur said, guessing my thoughts. "I don't agree with everything you said, but in one way you are right. Neither of our Houses has won great honour by that duel."

"You've nothing to be sorry for. Though I think maybe I have." I sighed. "Thanks for holding me back, Varvur. I keep doing that, don't I?"

"Don't worry about it," he said with a shrug. "I was angry too, earlier in the day."

"Yes, what happened there? It doesn't seem like you to lose your temper like that."

"It was his selfishness, his lack of honour, that made me angry. I can understand being afraid, but I would never dream of asking someone else to fight a duel for me. Especially ? "

He broke off. "Especially a woman?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.

"No? that was not what I was going to say. I ? " For a moment it looked like he was steeling himself to say something more, but eventually he shook his head. "Never mind. It doesn't matter."

I said nothing. I had a feeling I could guess what he'd been going to say, and I really wasn't sure whether or not it was a good idea to take the conversation in that direction. From the look of it, neither was Varvur.

We chewed in silence. I tried to think about other things, but instead I found myself suddenly wondering what he'd be like in bed. Probably quite gentle, I thought ? not like most of the lovers I'd had in the past. Mind you, none of those relationships had lasted more than a few months?

"What are you thinking about?" Varvur asked.

'What you'd be like in bed' probably wasn't the best answer. "Er? nothing much," I said vaguely. "Just? old boyfriends."

"Oh." He paused. "Have you had many? boyfriends?"

"A few," I said, shrugging. "Mainly Nords, actually. Guess I tend to go for the rugged barbarian type."

"I see." He looked thoughtful.

We both went quiet again. "Talking of boyfriends," I said at last, "what is up with you and the Wood Elf girl?"

"Wood Elf girl?

"The one I saw in your manor the other day."

"Oh? Aeronwen." He grimaced. "She is not my 'girlfriend', if that's what you mean."

"No?"

He shook his head. "For a short time, earlier this year, we were? I'm sorry, I don't know the right word. Courting?"

"Dating."

"Dating, then. But we? well, she didn't seem so interested in me as I was in her. In fact, I began to suspect that she was in love with someone else." Varvur sighed heavily. "I tried to speak to her about it, but she kept avoiding me? or so it seemed to me." His face grew rigid. "Well, I have pride. I was not going to pursue a woman who didn't care for me."

Ouch. Suddenly I wished I hadn't asked. "I'm sorry, Varvur," I said. "I assumed you two were? well. If I'd known, I wouldn't have asked? um, if you see what I mean."

"It was many months ago," he said, shrugging. "Things are still a little awkward between us, but I don't mind so much any more." He paused. "In any case, I think perhaps it was for the best. My parents like Aeronwen, but I don't think they would have approved of? us."

"They probably want you to marry some rich Hlaalu noble," I said, trying to lighten the mood a little. "You know, unite the two Houses. That sort of thing."

The expression of horror on Varvur's face was almost comical. "Marry a Hlaalu? I would rather die!"

"Really? I thought those sorts of political marriages happened all the time."

But he was shaking his head. "I do not think my parents would want me to marry a Hlaalu."

The conversation drifted onto other subjects, and we finished our meals. "What will you do now?" Varvur asked me, as we left the tavern.

"Go to bed, I think. Oh, um, you mean tomorrow?" Yep, I was a bit tipsy. "I have to go back to Sadrith Mora. More work for the Fighters' Guild."

"So you're leaving again?" he asked, looking rather wistful. "Well, I'm glad to have seen you while you were here."

"Come with me," I said on impulse.

He shook his head with genuine regret. "I can't. I have more tasks to do for Faral Retheran."

"Guess it's goodbye for now, then."

We hugged rather awkwardly. My skin prickled against the fabric of my shirt where his hands touched my back, and I felt a pleasant trickling sensation in the pit of my stomach. Damn it, why now? This was not a good time!

When we'd said our goodbyes I went back to Wolverine Hall, where I took the details of my next two Guild missions from Hrundi before going to bed. I didn't sleep much that night, though. Although I'd had quite a nice evening in the end, I felt frustrated and irritable. At least Dagoth Ur wasn't showing up in my dreams these days ? maybe killing a few dozen of his supporters had finally driven home the message.

I was up before dawn the next morning to catch the first ship to Tel Mora, which was on a small island off the north-eastern coast. It was only about half as far by sea as Dagon Fel, and we arrived reasonably early on the morning after that. Tel Mora seemed like a typical Telvanni mushroom-village, though there was something about the place that was just a little off ? I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

Anyway, the jobs were simple enough: a trader in the village had a corprus stalker trapped in her shop, while an outlaw named Rels Tenim had gone to ground somewhere nearby. I soon found the tradehouse, which was run by a Wood Elf named Berwen, and discovered that she'd imprisoned the corprus stalker behind some crates in her attic. A little too well, in fact, as they were too heavy to move even with my super-strength gauntlets. I couldn't get near the creature, and had to wait for it to spot me and wander over before I could hit it.

Afterwards, I asked around the village about Rels Tenim and was told to ask in Vos, another town just over the water. It was close enough to be easily seen from Tel Mora ? in fact, I could probably have water-walked it, but I couldn't be bothered. Instead I took a boat.

I was just stepping on board when I realised what had been bugging me about Tel Mora. Ever since I stepped off the docks, I hadn't seen a single man around the place ? only women. Even the few children I'd seen had all been female.

When I asked the shipmaster about this, she smiled. "Mistress Dratha is our Telvanni mage-lord, and she doesn't like men. She won't allow them to live here."

You didn't have to be a genius to spot the obvious problem with this. "How does she plan to, er, keep the population stable?"

"People come and go," she said, shrugging. "Besides, we Dunmer have long lives."

I wondered what had happened to Mistress Dratha to make her hate men so much. Presumably something terrible, though honestly, I wouldn't have been that surprised to find out that it was just a whim. Divayth Fyr was actually starting to look like one of the saner Telvanni by this time.

The town of Vos was controlled by another Telvanni councillor, Master Aryon. The people here were unusually friendly, and also the only Telvanni I'd met who seemed to feel any real affection for their wizard-lord. "You must go and see Master Aryon's wizard's tower," they all told me. "It's very strange. Master Aryon isn't afraid to try new things."

When I walked up the hill to Tel Vos and saw what they meant, I found it hard not to laugh. The tower was a weird hybrid of the traditional mushroom-tower and a Western-style castle, and the overall effect was? bizarre, to say the least. It looked like the castle was being slowly devoured by a giant tentacled monster.

People in the town had told me to ask the nearby Ashlanders about Rels Tenim, but before I left, I decided to place a Recall point here. I didn't really need to visit the Urshilaku again for the moment, but I had a feeling I'd need to come back here before long.

After a relatively peaceful walk through the Grazelands ? read 'only a few mad diseased animals trying to kill me' ? I came upon the Ahemmusa camp a few miles to the north. This was the point where I realised something that should have been obvious: the Ashlander tribes don't really communicate with each other. I'd got used to the Urshilaku treating me like a long-lost friend, but here all I got was dirty looks and suspicious glances at my Templar uniform. No one knew, or cared, that I was the Nerevarine.

I eventually learned that Rels Tenim was hiding out in Shallit, a cave on an island north-northwest of the camp. It wasn't until I reached the northern coast, and paused to check my map, that I realised there were at least three islands that fitted that description. I briefly considered going back to ask for clarification, but decided to just head for the most obvious choice and hope for the best.

Two hours, several saltwater-dunkings and much swearing later, I finally arrived at the entrance to Shallit. I was cold, dripping wet, shivering, and really didn't feel up to tackling a bunch of outlaws right now. I wish Varvur were here, I thought. At least I'd have someone to complain to.

I actually considered trying to use a minor fire spell to dry myself out, but rejected this on the grounds that I wasn't completely suicidal. Instead I used the spell to start a small fire, and waited for the dripping to stop before entering the cave.

It didn't take me long to realise that there was no one there. Literally no one. At first I thought the outlaws had abandoned the place and moved on, but then I came across a barrel with a lit candle and a note from 'Rels' to someone called 'Giden'. It had clearly been written within the last few days.

I crept on, expecting an ambush at any minute, but none came. Further into the cave I came to a grand-looking staircase leading up to an elaborately carved door. I could hear strange but familiar sounds from behind it, and quickly realised that this led to a Dunmer tomb. By now my Something's Very Wrong Here sense was tingling like mad.

I cast my Chameleon enchantment and crept through the door. There were a few armed skeleton warriors wandering around, but I ignored them. Two doors led out of the first room: one to the left and one to the right. I chose the left door at random and slipped through it without being noticed.

There wasn't all that much in the room beyond, either. Just a bunch of urns, and round that corner, an ordinary-looking human? woman? OHHOLYCRAPIT'SAVAMPIRE.

There was absolutely no doubt that the woman in front of me was a vampire. The veined, pasty face and glowing white eyes said it all, really. Swallowing hard, I slipped off my pack and hunted around in it for a suitable scroll.

Finally I found what I needed: a heavy-duty fireball spell of the type I'd used on the ghost in Llevule Andrano's tomb. I steadied my trembling hands with an effort and, standing as far away as possible from the vampire, cast the spell straight at her. Unfortunately it didn't kill her outright, and at that moment the Chameleon spell wore off.

The first thing you'll learn about fighting vampires is that they're insanely fast and strong. I barely had a chance to draw my sword before she lunged at me with a cry of fury. Before I had a chance to use the sword, she had picked me up bodily and thrown me against the wall with a force that jarred every bone in my body. As I slumped to the ground I saw her looming over me, fangs bared.

Gathering all my strength, I kicked her hard in the stomach. It staggered her for just a moment, and in that moment, I leaned forward and thrust my sword through her chest as close as possible to her heart. She lashed out wildly, and for a moment we grappled together as I frantically twisted the blade in her body. I was starting to think I'd lost when her gaze went suddenly blank and she stumbled backwards, clutching at her chest.

As the vampire's body crumbled into dust, something small and shiny fell to the ground and rolled towards my hand. Examining it, I saw that it was a ring with some pretty incredible enchantments: a strong resistance to most non-enchanted weapons and a chance to reflect spell damage. Talos, it was a good thing that hadn't happened when I cast the scroll at her. 'Killed by her own fireball spell' would make a pretty embarrassing epitaph.

I slipped the ring onto my own finger and wondered what to do next. I was bruised and sore, and really didn't feel like fighting again without resting first ? besides, I wasn't even sure the outlaws were still here. Had I walked into a trap, or had they ended up as 'food' for the vampire?

Regardless, there was nowhere to rest except this cave, and right now this room seemed like the safest place in it. If anyone came into the room next door with the skeletons, I'd be alerted by the sounds of battle. So I stripped off my damp clothes, drank a potion or two, and settled down to sleep in a haunted tomb beside the remains of a dead vampire.

Loved it! :goodjob: I really like the tension between Varvur and Ada. I also thought:"how clever" when I read you had Varvur doing tasks normally we have to do. I remeber being really angry seeing that guy shop unarmoured and wielding a puny dagger. Did you too try to sustain him with restore health spells in the game to no avail?

Oh God, yes. Right up until I realised no one cares if you just whack Brethas Deras yourself. I don't think that would have worked for the story, though.

I could really picture her coming out of the water with a face that said: The next cliff racer that even dreams of coming near me is going to die in the most horrible way I can think of

Great story

:read: I loved it!

Yep, the humor, power, grace, beauty and danger that is Ada. All, with her running commentary that frequently causes me to spray coffee out my mouth.

I have to come back and read this when my house quiets down, sometime in the next day or so I will be back - I have no doubts it is Awesome!

And a happy doggie dance to see Ada is back! I loved the delicate tension between Varvur and Ada- and her wandering thoughts, accidently allowed to slip out by consumption of alcohol:

"I'm going to bed...."

Two other moments that really stood out (well, the whole chapter did, actually):





Yes, that is the Ada humor I so enjoy... And you use such a wonderfully light touch to hint at Varvur's feelings- and his inexperience and uncertainty.

Ahhhhhhhh!!!!

In spite of the insane amount of work I am snowed under...

Helena, Trey, Malxi, SubRosa, and Rumpledearest have put in stories for me to read. What more does life need to offer me in 2010? Precious little!!!

:rofl:

I knew it would be great! Two of my fave lines were already quoted, but this one wasn't so I will quote it:





ROFL !!! I re-read it several times and laughed each time - the whole chapter was great, but as always with your story there are certain lines that stood out, this is only one, but I saw so many it would spam your thread to quote them all! Awesome Helena!!!

I agree; that wouldn't have really worked in the story. She might have if Varvur hadn't been there though, right?
I considered jumping into the pit with Rales and whack him but that's hardly the Redoran way is it? And why didn't the idiot use those bloody potions he had me buy?: :swear:
The thing that got me most was that the questgiver didn't even mentioned one of his kinsmen died..
Can't wait to get writing on that particular quest myself

Chapter 29: Weird Sisters

I woke up to find myself lying half-naked on a cold stone floor with a skull leering down at me. In the few seconds it took me to realise that it was just a decoration, I'd already lunged for my sword and dealt the grinning face a whack that nearly split it in two.

Once I'd recovered from the shock, I put on my clothes ? luckily they'd dried in the heat of the braziers ? and struggled back into my armour. The remains of the vampire, whose name seemed to be 'Marara' according to the markings on her ring, still lay in a small heap on the ground. I scooped up some of the dust into a leather pouch, hoping that it might win me some points with Hrundi. If not, at least I could always sell it to an alchemist.

At least now I didn't have to worry about Porphyric Haemophilia, I thought. The only other time I'd fought vampires, I'd been so paranoid about catching the 'vampire disease' that I'd drunk a Cure Disease potion, and cast a spell, and gone to pray at the nearest chapel for good measure. Being the prophesised Incarnate was turning out to have its benefits.

From the sound of it, the skeleton warriors were still wandering around in the room next door. I could have fought them, but I didn't want to attract the attention of any bandits that might be lurking nearby, so I used my Chameleon amulet a second time to get out of the tomb. As it turned out, I needn't have bothered ? the cave was still completely deserted. I thought back to the skulls and bones I'd seen in the vampire's lair, and wondered if one of them belonged to Rels Tenim.

I was just considering whether to leave when I remembered the note I'd seen earlier, and decided to take another quick look at it. I'd only glanced at it before, but this time I examined it carefully for clues.

Giden,

Here's a blade for the new man. Send him ahead and we'll set up his arrangements. Dinner is waiting, but not for you. Muvrulea is sick again so you've drawn sentry duty. Don't worry, you'll be getting a portion of his share. Stay alert, bounty hunters are seeking us, but I feel fairly secure up here.

Rels

'Up here'? I walked slowly through the cave, looking for anything that might indicate a hidden stairway or something similar. Right near the entrance, I spotted something I hadn't noticed before: a ledge up above, half-hidden by stalactites and overhanging rocks.

There was no way up except by levitation. Sighing, I retreated a little way into the cave and swapped my normal pants for the enchanted ones that Peakstar's ghost had given me. Countless washes had failed to get rid of the stains or the smell, but at least the enchantment worked properly.

My hunch was right. A little way back from the ledge, I came across a small wooden door which presumably led to the bandits' lair.

I hesitated outside the door, wondering how to proceed from here. I wasn't sure how long I'd spent in here, but I guessed that by now it was probably night-time and at least some of the bandits would be asleep. Outlaws or not, the thought of having to slit a bunch of people's throats while they slept was not an appealing one. But I didn't have to, I realised ? I'd only been told to kill Rels himself, not his companions.

There was enough charge left on my amulet to cast the Chameleon enchantment a few more times, so I did so and snuck through the door. There were only two people inside the first room ? a sentry, whom I presumed was 'Giden', and a sleeping woman. In the next room were another woman and a man, both asleep. The man could have been Rels, but I decided to hold off killing him for the moment.

It's a good thing I did, because in the last room I found another man who was very obviously the leader of the gang. He was a lot more heavily armed than any of the others, for a start, and his room was furnished to look like a private study. He was writing at a low table, and didn't see or hear me creeping up behind him.

I knocked him out with my Star of the West power, not wanting anyone to hear his death cries, then drew my blade across his throat as he fell unconscious. Any guilt I might have felt quickly vanished when I read what he'd been writing:

We've struck a bargain with evil. While I am uncomfortable and feel some unease with our current arrangement, I believe these warrens will serve us well for some time. Those who hope to destroy me must be of stout spirit and cunning mind, for if they simply forge ahead in these caves, they may meet a fate far worse than death.

When we first discovered these caves and began our explorations, we were sure we had found refuge from our enemies. Little did we know, as we pushed into the interior galleries what we would find. In the final chamber, we came upon the ruined portal to a vast tomb. At first we were eager to chance upon some riches to fill our coffers, but instead we found ourselves within the nest of deadly creatures. By our wits and skill of arms, we were able to retreat from the dark lair. For a time we sealed the entry, but the threat continued to gnaw at us. It was Giden who conceived the plan with which we presented to those beings of darkness. In return for our right to dwell within these caves, we provide 'sustenance' for these creatures. To assist us in this venture, we have created a lure, a path for the bounty hunters and meddlesome folk to follow. The unwary will find themselves in the clutches of a black fate.

Muvrulea is very unhappy with the current conditions and I am finding myself concurring. This cannot come to a good end, but we must stay the course until a new safehold can be found.

So he'd been luring people into a trap to feed his vampire friend? How charming. Well, at least I could congratulate myself on having a 'stout spirit' and 'cunning mind'.

No one outside the room seemed to have heard anything, but I slipped on the Divine Intervention amulet that Edwinna had given me in case I needed to make a hasty exit. Then I began to search the room for useful loot. A chest next to Rales contained a large amount of gold and several valuable gems, about 1,000 septims' worth in all. There were also a good deal of Rising Force potions around the place, which would be useful the next time I went back to Vivec's shrine.

When I'd finished looting the place, I Divine-Interventioned back to Sadrith Mora and spent the rest of the night at the Guild. The next morning I went to Hrundi to collect my payment, and showed him the ring and vampire dust. "Marara," he murmured. "Yes, I've heard of her ? she's been slaughtering any humans who've gone into that tomb, and a few vampires as well. Folks say she was tired of her 'unlife', and wanted to be killed by one of her own kind."

"Well, she's out of luck," I said. "At least I've brought her peace, I suppose. Or something. Anyway, I was wondering: might this be enough for promotion to Guardian rank?"

"Hmm." He scratched his chin. "Well, killing off a vampire single-handed is certainly impressive. Come along to the practice rooms and I'll test your skills."

We fought a short practice duel ? which I lost, though I still felt I hadn't done too badly. I'd come a long way since my release from prison, and while I wasn't quite a match for a hefty Nord like Hrundi, I was pretty close.

"Well, your skills are certainly up to scratch," he admitted. "But I'm not sure you've done enough missions for the Guild to justify a promotion. I don't have anything else for you right now, but you could try Lorbumol in Vivec. Just be a bit careful with some of the tasks he'll give you."

I didn't need to be told that. Honestly, this was turning out to be much more of a hassle than I'd expected.

After selling off the gems I'd found and taking most of my money to the local bank, I was about to return to Ald'ruhn when I suddenly remembered that I had a Legion mission to complete. Radd Hard-Heart of Fort Moonmoth had asked me to rescue a missionary, Jocien Ancois, from the Erabenimsun Ashlander camp. I decided now was as good a time as any, since the camp was reasonably close to Sadrith Mora.

To get there I had to cross the chain of islands leading to the mainland, using my Water Walking spell. I could see the spires of Tel Fyr and Tel Aruhn, another Telvanni settlement, in the distance as I passed by. On reaching the shore I quickly found myself in the grey, ashy Molag Amur region, where a rough trail ran west between mountains and jagged rocks. I hadn't gone too far before I heard footsteps somewhere behind me, and a distinctly human-sounding cough.

"Who's there?" I barked, whirling around. There was no one in sight. "Come out and show yourself!"

A frightened Argonian face peeked out from behind a rock. Stepping around the rock to get a closer look at him, I saw that he was barefoot and wore only ragged pants. "What are you doing here?"

He backed away. "Who...who are you? You go now! Leave me alone. I must get home now."

"'Get home'? Get home to where?"

He hesitated, looking me over warily. "No, not home," he said at last. "To the Argonian Mission in Ebonheart before they find me, that's where I must go. The Tel Aruhn hunters be out looking for me, no doubt about it. If they find Reeh-Jah, that's it for me!"

"So you're a slave, are you?"

Reeh-Jah nodded. "Don't tell no one you seen me. Please?"

I looked at him suspiciously. I was wary of people claiming to be escaped slaves after that business with Tul, but I had to admit, this guy did look like the genuine article. And unlike Tul, he was clearly reluctant rather than eager to ask for help.

"You'll never make it alone," I said eventually. "Want to come with me? You can tag along if you want, but I've got to take care of some other business before I can help you."

"You want to help me?" He shook his head. "That a rare thing in these parts, I tell you what. Maybe you get us there, maybe not, but I rather be on my way than have them find me here."

I set off for the Erabenimsun camp, along with Reeh-Jah. The campsite was gloomy and forbidding ? a bare clearing, surrounded by sheer cliffs on all sides ? and the tribespeople here made the Urshilaku and Ahemmusa look positively welcoming. Several times I tried to approach one of them, only for them to warn me off by pointedly reaching for their weapons. I wondered if Reeh-Jah's presence had something to do with it.

Finally I came across a woman who at least seemed willing to speak to me. "Bless and be blessed," I said, using a common Urshilaku greeting. "I've come here to look for a Breton called Jocien Ancois. Might you have seen him?"

"He is like the nix-hound chasing a bone," she said with a snort. "We told him the Mabrigash wanted to hear him speak from his books. He went to them, and never returned."

"Sorry to have to ask, but who is the Mabrigash?"

She sighed. "The wise-woman who left us, and our rules. She steals a man's vital essence to make herself a powerful sorcerer." Reeh-Jah looked a bit worried by this. "Her camp is to the west, along the lava. But she has others with her, and I would stay away."

I decided to ignore her warning and start looking for the Mabrigash. At least as a woman, I didn't need to worry about having my 'vital essence' stolen ? whatever that meant.

Reeh-Jah and I set out west, looking for the lava stream, but it turned out to be harder to find than I'd expected. We followed one path for about a quarter of an hour before I realised I we were probably going in the wrong direction. By the time we got back to where we'd started, I was on the point of giving up ? when I suddenly spotted something lying on the ground a short way away. It was a piece of paper.

The paper seemed to be a page from a book, but was so worn and faded that I couldn't read it; all I could tell was that it came from a copy of A Brief History of the Empire. Glancing around, I spotted what looked like another page a short way down the path. Unless one of the Ashlanders had a secret passion for Imperial history, I guessed that this would lead us to Jocien.

I guessed right: after following the paper trail for a few minutes, we came in sight of the lava stream. I'd never seen one before, and I must admit it was quite an amazing sight ? a literal river of fire. But by the Nine, it was hot. I couldn't go nearer than a few feet without feeling like I'd stepped into a bread oven.

The trail eventually led us to a very small camp, with a single yurt. A couple of women were sitting by the fire outside. "Excuse me," I said to one of them. "Are either of you the Mabrigash, by any chance?"

She fixed me with a defiant glare. "Yes, I am a mabrigash. We are the Ashlander witch-warriors, women who defy the man's rules of behaviour for women, mastering the man's weapons of war and the sorcerer's powerful magics. Craven men whine that we steal their vital essences to feed our dark purposes, but men are fools and cowards. Only women can understand the secrets of the ghost snake and its hidden mysteries that make men tremble like maidens."

Wow. Okay. "Well, good for you," I said. "Sisters doing it for themselves, eh? Er, would you happen to have seen a man named Jocien Ancois?"

"Speak to Zennammu in the yurt."

I went into the yurt, where a stern-looking woman was standing guard over a Breton man in a grubby robe ? presumably Jocien. "I understand you're holding this man prisoner," I said to the mabrigash, after greeting her politely. "Is there any way I could persuade you to let him go?"

She looked amused. "You want to take Jocien from us? But how can we work our magic without a man?"

"Surely a bunch of strong, independent women like you don't need a man to help you do magic?" I asked, hoping flattery might do the trick.

Zennammu wasn't buying it, though. "You understand nothing, outlander. It is the essence of a man we need for our magics, not the man himself. We cannot let him go."

"May I show you something, Zennammu?" I detached the leather pouch from my belt and opened it up to show her the vampire dust inside. "This is dust from a vampire I killed last night. I think that shows I can use 'men's weapons of war' at least as well as you three." I laid my hand on the hilt of my sword for emphasis. "I don't want to fight you, but believe me, I will if I have to. It's up to you."

Zennammu digested this in silence. "I will let Jocien go if you can bring us a better man," she said at last. "The brave hunter Assaba-Bentus of the Erabenimsun is young, strong, and handsome. If you bring him here, we will let Jocien go."

I hesitated. I didn't really want to trick some other poor guy into taking Jocien's place ? but if this Assaba-Bentus was everything Zennammu said, he could probably handle these women at least as well as I could. It was worth a try, at least.

Reeh-Jah and I left the camp and headed back along the trail. I really hoped I wouldn't have to fight the women, to be honest. They might be a bunch of crazy witches who captured men and did unspeakable things to them involving vital essences, but I couldn't help admiring them for standing up to that 'woman's place' crap. Plus? there were three of them and one of me.

Back at the Erabenimsun camp, I found Assaba-Bentus with a party of warriors returning from a hunt. He did indeed seem to be young, strong and handsome, though a bit unkempt for my tastes. After sweetening him up with a hefty 'gift' of gold coins, I explained the situation, and asked if he'd be willing to help me.

He looked at me as if I were mad. "What? You want me to go live with the witch-women? Do you think I am a fool like Jocien Ancois? No, I will not go."

"Afraid they'll steal your precious vital essences?" I said with a wink.

"I am not afraid!" He looked indignant. "I am a hunter of the Erabenimsun, and I have proven my bravery many times. Besides, Mimanu already tried her charms on me. I let her think they were working and escaped the next morning."

"So why not do the same thing again?" I asked. "Are you really going to pass up a chance like this?"

He still looked doubtful. "Oh well, never mind," I said, shrugging. "I guess I'll just have to fight them myself, if you're not up to it."

I made as if to leave, but he grabbed my arm. "No! I will show you that I am not afraid of any witch-woman. I will follow you to the mabrigash camp."

Gods. Men are so predictable, aren't they?

Assaba-Bentus followed me back to the mabrigash camp, where Zennammu was waiting outside the yurt. She could barely contain her glee when she saw him. "Ah yes," she said, her eyes dancing. "Assaba-Bentus is indeed a better man. Thank you for bringing him here."

She ducked back into the yurt, and a moment later Jocien Ancois emerged through the tent-flap. "Are you okay?" I asked him. "They didn't steal too much? vital essence?"

"No, I am fine," he said with a weak smile. "But thank you for dealing with my captors."

I glanced over at Assaba-Bentus, who was sitting by the fire with the other women. He gave me a little wave. "Do not worry about me," he half-whispered. "No witch-woman can hold a real warrior for long."

I just hoped he was right about that. "Well, Jocien, what now?" I asked. Do you want me to take you back to Sadrith Mora?"

He shook his head. "I will find my own way back to the Erabenimsun. I must continue to teach them of the Empire and its ways."

"Good gods, you're not serious?"

But he was already heading off in the direction of the camp. "He's crazy, right?" Reeh-Jah whispered, as we watched him go.

"Probably," I said with a shrug. Some people never learn, I guess. Oh well, it wasn't my problem any longer. He'd just better not expect me to rescue him a second time.

After sharing some food with Reeh-Jah, I offered to accompany him to Sadrith Mora, but he shook his head violently. "Please, not the Telvanni! They'll grab me again for sure."

"Look, just use this," I said, offering him my Divine Intervention amulet. "It'll take you straight to Wolverine Hall, the Imperial fortress. No one will 'grab' you there."

But he wasn't having any of it. The only way to avoid the Telvanni settlements was to go south through Molag Amur, down to the coast ? but that would take days, I thought, my heart sinking. I considered leaving Reeh-Jah to his fate, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. There was no way he'd survive out here on his own.

"All right," I said at last. "We'll head south. But if we get lost, I'm teleporting out of there, so you'll have to make your own way back to Ebonheart."

A few hours later I was beginning to realise just what sort of task I'd taken on. Taking a slave 500 yards down the road to a safe house was one thing; escorting him over miles of barren, hostile territory was quite another. Reeh-Jah was pretty feeble and tired very easily, so our pace slowed to about half what it would have been if I'd been walking alone. He was also completely unarmed, so I had to constantly defend him against cliff racers and other blighted wildlife, not to mention sharing my limited rations of food and water with him.

To make things worse, I didn't even have a clear idea of where I was going. Towards nightfall we stumbled across a signpost pointing towards the Temple settlement of Molag Mar, and decided to head for there. I guessed that it would take at least a couple more days to get there at our current pace.

The heat had been near-unbearable as we walked by the lava river, but when night fell out in the ashy desert, the temperature fell sharply. I was okay in my thick plate armour, but poor Reeh-Jah had to huddle up to me for warmth ? and before you get any sort of ideas, let me say right now that it was about as much fun as a night with Dagoth Gares. I can only be grateful that no one came by to see the sight ? an armoured human woman and a half-naked Argonian, both looking like they'd bathed in ash, curled up together in the shade of a large trama root. The bards would probably be writing comic songs about it for the next three decades.

By the time we finally reached Molag Mar, I was almost beginning to wish I'd just left him to fend for himself. I know it sounds terrible, but all I wanted at this point was to dump him off at the Mission so that I'd never have to see him again. But it didn't end there, of course: I had to buy him some clothes, so that no one would realise he was an escaped slave, and then buy passage for both of us on board a ship to Ebonheart.

I'm not sure which of us was more relieved when we finally rolled up at the Argonian Mission. The head diplomat, Im-Kilaya, thanked me profusely for helping Reeh-Jah. "You have done a good thing here, Sera Ventura. You have helped one of our people with no promise of reward, and at great peril to yourself. Have you seen the Twin Lamps?"

By this time I had a hazy idea of how I was supposed to answer. "They? light the way to freedom?"

"The lamps burn brightly for you, I can see that." He smiled. "Take this as a show of our gratitude."

He presented me with an enchanted belt called a 'Blood Belt'. I'd really have preferred it if he'd just paid me, but I was more concerned that I seemed to have joined an underground anti-slavery organisation without even meaning to. Story of my life, isn't it?

It was still fairly early in the morning and I hadn't bathed since leaving Molag Mar. I went to Fort Hawkmoth to clean myself up, and informed Frald the White that I'd rescued Jocien Ancois (though knowing him, he'd probably managed to get himself captured again by now). He promised to pass the news on to Radd Hard-Heart, though he didn't have any more duties for me at the moment.

Afterwards I went to the bank in Vivec to discuss my next loan repayment. "Good news," the bank manager said, as soon as I entered his office. "I've found a buyer for your ring? at least, I think I have."

"You have? Who is it?"

He hesitated, looking a bit uncertain. "You'll find him in the Ghorak Manor in Caldera," he said at last. "Answers to the name 'Creeper'. He's offered to buy it for thirty thousand septims."

"This isn't anything? illegal, is it?" I asked suspiciously.

"Oh no. Not that I know of, at least." He paused. "But, er, a bit of advice: I suggest you keep this as quiet as possible. I think you'll understand why when you meet him."

I wasn't sure whether to believe him. Clearly there was something dodgy about this 'Creeper' guy ? well, with a name like that, how could there not be? ? but on the other hand, if he was the only person willing to buy my ring, I had to give it a try. I couldn't believe the construction costs would be my only expense if I had to run a stronghold.

On my way to the Mages' Guild, I once again got that nagging feeling that I was being followed. I paused for a while near one of the stalls, trying to catch a glimpse of my stalker out of the corner of my eye. He was a fairly nondescript type, not the kind you'd notice if you passed him in the street, but I could swear he was the same person I'd seen before in both Vivec and Ald'ruhn. This had gone on long enough, I thought.

I turned around and walked straight over to him ? noticing how, just for a moment, he seemed to be trying to back away into the shadows. "Excuse me," I said. "Is there some kind of a problem?"

"No, sera," he said, with a look of wide-eyed surprise.

I lowered my voice slightly. "Then why are you following me?"

"You must be mistaken, sera. I'm not following you."

"Then make sure you don't start." I gave him a threatening look, then turned and walked away. Either I managed to scare him off, or he was a lot more careful from then on, because I never saw him again after that.

I took the Guild Guide to the pleasant little Imperial town of Caldera, and made my way to Ghorak Manor. Immediately I got the feeling something was very wrong: the windows were boarded up and the place had the general look of a crumbling, abandoned building. I could almost have believed the bank manager had set me up, but why on Nirn would he do something like that?

The inside of the house was even more disturbing. The wall hangings were crooked, broken bottles and overturned furniture littered the floor, and there was a large heap of ash in one corner. The inhabitants ? all Orcs ? were only half-dressed and looked like pretty rough customers. If I hadn't been well-armed, I might just have turned around and hurried back out.

Instead I plucked up my courage and walked over to one of the men. "Ada Ventura. I'm looking for someone named Creeper?"

A wide grin spread over the Orc's face. "E's upstairs."

Getting nervous with every minute, I made my way up to the next floor. Up here were a couple more Orcs and ? a pet scamp? This was getting weirder and weirder. "Creeper?" I said hesitantly, looking at the first Orc.

"Hello Caldera! I'm here all week!"

I nearly jumped out of my skin. That squeaky voice had come not from the Orc, but from the scamp. It had to be some kind of trick, surely?

"Excuse me," I said faintly to the Orc. "Did that scamp just speak?"

He chuckled. "Weren't expecting that, were you Cyrodiil? Yeah, that's Creeper. You wanna buy something from him?"

I turned to look at the scamp, still half convinced that the Orcs were playing a trick on me. "Sorry," I said weakly. "I didn't realise scamps could? talk."

"No worries." It was definitely the scamp speaking ? I could see his lips moving. "C'mon...help a scamp out," he continued. "You gotta need something. I've got booze...."

I took a few very cautious steps towards him. "Actually I was hoping you would buy something from me."

"So let's see it."

Carefully, still expecting to be jumped from behind at any minute, I took the ring from my pouch and held it out to Creeper so he could examine it. "Thirty thousand, take it or leave it," he said instantly.

I took it. Mad I might be, but I wasn't quite at the stage where I would stand there haggling with a scamp.

He didn't give me the thirty thousand drakes in cash, of course. Instead he gave me a bank draft, which appeared genuine enough. I teleported out of the house as soon as I'd finished examining it, not wanting to stay there a moment longer than I had to, and a short while later I re-entered the Bank of Vvardenfell in Vivec.

"I see you found Creeper," said the manager, seeing the expression on my face.

I flung the paper down on his desk. "Let's just never speak of this again, shall we?"

When I'd finished sorting out payment for my loan, and stored my newfound wealth in the bank, I decided to return to Ald'ruhn. It had been about a week since I'd given Galsa Gindu the construction contract, and I wanted to check how my stronghold was progressing. After stopping for a meal at the Rat in the Pot, I went to speak to her at the Council Hall.

"Ah, Ada. I'm glad to see you." She smiled at me. "I want you to make sure your stronghold is being built on schedule. It is being built among the rows of stones, the Bal Isra, on the east side of the road from Ald'ruhn to Maar Gan. Go there and speak with the foreman, Bugdul gro-Kharbush."

It took me the rest of the afternoon to walk out to Bal Isra. Actually finding the stronghold was more difficult than I had expected, as it was being built at the top of a hill, so far up that it couldn't even be seen from the road below. Why would anyone want to build a stronghold here, miles from anywhere? Who was going to attack a place like this?

I was even more surprised when I actually saw the place. The construction site was fairly bare, with a few large tents dotted around the place, yet the main building appeared to be almost finished. It was basically just a big shell, of course ? most of the building work would take place underground ? but the door and windows had already been put in, and it looked carved and polished. Did they just have a big stock of the things somewhere?

One of the Orc builders, who appeared to be overseeing the work, eventually noticed me standing there. "You here about the stronghold?" he asked. "Tell Galsa Gindu things are fine here. The work will be done soon."

"Are you Bugdul gro-Kharbush?"

He nodded. "I'm the building foreman for Indarys Manor."

I was about to ask him about the house, when something occurred to me. "Hold on, 'Indarys Manor'? Why not Ventura Manor?"

"Er?" Bugdul suddenly looked rather panicked. I could see him casting around for an excuse, but Orcs aren't exactly quick with words at the best of times. "I don't know. That's just what the bosses told me."

Okay, I thought. There's something a bit weird going on here.

Back in Ald'ruhn, I tried to talk to Galsa about what I'd seen and heard, but she waved me away. "I'm very busy, Ada. Besides, I was just about to finish work for the day. Come back in another week, and the next stage of construction should be finished."

There wasn't much I could do except thank her and leave, but I was determined to take these things up with her the next time we met. Once again, I was starting to get the feeling there was something I wasn't being told.

Argh! Uh Oh! - Vital Essences - ROFL !!!