Agent

Chapter 1: In training.

My knees were shivering. For a good reason, I might say as the Duke towering over me looked very intimidating in his heavy suit of Ebony armour. Just to compare the two of us, the helmet would have been enough to crush me. Also, being dressed in cheap rags has never been a good source of courage. As it was, I had more than enough reason to be afraid of him.

Who am I? I no longer use the name I was born with. I changed it upon my arrival here on Vvardenfell. Now I finally have a name I can spell. Anyway, my name is Ro-El Frost. Sounds Khajiit? Maybe, but I am really closer related to the Nords, though without the muscles, the alcohol tolerance, the noise and without the size. Go figure.

The Duke turned to a man wearing some sort of golden armour. Probably the boss of the guard who was blocking the only way out of the room.
“Is this the kid you were talking about?” The Duke asked with a stern voice. This did not sound well.
“Yes, that’s the one.” Was the equally stern reply. This was one of those moments that your life would start to fly past your eyes.

How did I get here? Well, I don’t really know to be honest. People claim I must have been on the Skooma to have forgotten how I ever found myself in that mine. I didn’t like it there. The slavers forced me to do hard labour every day. I could feel my life slowly seep away with every single egg I harvested. I had to get out.

My plan took time but it worked in the end, except for one small detail. I harvested some poison one of the Kwama warriors had been spitting at the wall and mixed it with my food for the day. The day after that, I dumped it into the lake that was somehow inside the mine. The food had been swallowed by the Slaughterfish before I’d stepped away. The next part of my plan was the hardest. I’d been warned that the smell of their queen’s blood puts the Kwama into a killing frenzie. This information was meant so that the slaves were careful not to kill themselves, but it could also be used to my advantage.

So as you might guess, tapping blood from the queen is a potentially lethal act. Fortunately, I knew that by tapping just a little through a tiny wound made with my fingernail, the Kwama would not even notice. I carefully kept the blood sealed away inside a bottle till after four days, I’d finally collected enough. That night came the last part of my masterplan.

I managed to convince the slaves to go swimming in the lake, after showing them that the Slaughterfish had died through my act of poisoning. Next, I sprinkled the collected blood on the clothes of the slavers. I managed to get out to the lake before the killing started. I’d never been so glad that Kwama can’t swim. Those things were completely out of control. Which leads me to where I am now.

“You have caused the death of three Dunmer and would have escaped if my Legionnaires weren’t performing a raid at the same time.” The Duke spoke directly to me. Remember the little detail that went wrong? Well two dozen heavily armed soldiers who found a whole angry bunch of Kwama in their face, that’s what went wrong.
“I thought they would run when the Kwama went mad. I didn’t expect them to die.” Was the weak defense I managed to whisper.

My arm was brusquely grabbed by the guard. The slave bracers I’d been forced to wear clattered on the floor.
“Ro-El Frost, you have closed down an illegal egg mine and punished those who were responsible. You have further freed their prisoners who are being returned to their families as we speak. All that without harming the Kwama themselves, my men are responsible for that. As such, it is my pleasure as a servant of the great Emperor, Uriel Septim, to grant you your freedom and to take you into my service as an agent in the order of Ebonheart. Serius will escort you to your room.” The Duke now said with a smile and pointed at the guard who had released me from the symbol of slavery.

In a flash of inspiration, I snatched the bracers from the floor before I was dragged out of the room by Serius. We ascended many stairs before he finally threw open a wooden door and pushed me inside. “Consider everything in this room to be yours. You’ll be summoned tomorrow at 6 am. Wait inside your room till we come for you.” Serius ordered me before slamming the door shut. Not the nicest guy in the world.

I sat down on the bed and looked around, still unable to believe what had just happened. Instead of being branded as the bad guy and possibly executed, I had been turned into some sort of hero. Not exactly something that happened to me every day.

After I finally admitted to myself that things had turned out alright, I took a look around the room they’d given me. Apart from the bed, there was a closet, a mirror, a desk with several books on it and a sturdy wooden chest. It wasn’t big, but not small either. I opened the closet with the intention of swapping my dirty old rags with something more comfortable. It was cold this time of the year. The closet did not disappoint me. It was filled with all kinds of clothes ranging from simple but sturdy to downright extravagant and fit for a noble. There were shirts, pants, robes, shoes and even a few skirts, though I did not know what I was supposed to do with those. Men don’t wear skirts where I come from. Finally there were a few gloves on a separate rack.

I choose for a simple blue shirt with matching pants and a pair of shoes fit for indoor use. As the last action of the day, I picked up the book lying on top of the pile. ‘History of the Empire, part 1’ it said on the cover. If my idea of an agent was somewhat correct, these books had been placed here for a reason. I had some reading to do.

Next morning, I was awoken by the loud sound of someone banging on the door. Normally, I’m not much of a sleeper. I suppose this is my body’s way of telling me it was the best bed I’d ever slept in. Still, it seemed unlikely that whoever was banging on the door would just leave, not to mention I had my duty as an Agent, whatever that duty might be. Slightly panicked, I scrambled out of the bed and rushed to get dressed. In my haste, I accidentally switched shoes and I was still hopping around on one leg while trying to correct my mistake when the door was opened.

Serius said nothing about the laughable pose I was in. He just threw a loaf of bread in my arms and marched out again. “This is your breakfast, follow me.” He said with a commanding voice. I was beginning to wonder if Serius ever laughed or allowed himself to lighten up. Munching on the bread, I followed him, still struggling with my shoes.

Today I would learn about the untold shadows that hide behind the walls of every nobleman’s house, or castle in this case. Serius led me into a maze of tunnels used by the servants and us Agents. The entrance we used was masterfully disguised as a painting of a reddish mountain with dark clouds pouring out of its tip. I had no idea which mountain it was or even if it was real. My geographical knowledge was lousy at its best.

Serius led the way with a torch, leaving it up to me to decide whether to follow him or not. Naturally, I choose to follow him while doing my best to remember the route we took. Not only were the tunnels so dark that you couldn’t see a thing beyond the torch’s light, it was also completely featureless which made navigating a serious pain in the behind. We walked for what felt like hours before Serius finally stopped in front of a simple wooden door. By now, I had absolutely no idea just where we were.
“Get inside.” Serius grunted and walked away.

I took a deep breath before opening the door. Beyond the door, I saw a large room lit by countless candles. Deep shadows penetrated those areas that were not lit up. It had a very creepy atmosphere.
“Ah, you must be the new kid!” A Bosmer yelled as he leaped out of the shadows. I stumbled backwards in fright, tripped and ended up on my back. If I planned to make a good first impression, I’d failed miserably.
“I’m Leroth, Duke Dren’s official spymaster. We can do everything the Blades can, only better!” The little man continued and helped me get back on my feet. To be honest, there wasn’t all that much of a size difference. My eyes were about as high as the tip of his ears.
“Ro-El Frost. Nice to meet you.” I mumbled, feeling the blood rush up to my face.

Leroth was full of energy and he almost literally threw me on a stool.
“Sit down, my young friend. You may call me master Leroth. I will be your commanding officer as well as your teacher. The Duke likes your improvising back in that mine so I have to turn you into a fine Agent if I don’t want to disappoint him. Now, where do we start?” He rambled on. I had no chance to interrupt him even if I knew something to say.

Still, he was a likeable fellow. A really likeable fellow. It was as if we’d been friends for years. I frowned at that thought. We’d only met a few seconds ago. How could I like someone that much after such a short time? It just felt odd.
“Very good. Seeing the trap is the first step in avoiding it.” Leroth said with his cheerful voice. The odd feeling vanished just as sudden as it had came. Leroth had tested me, to see if I could notice when someone tampered with my mind. Just the fact that he considered this test necessary made me somewhat worry about my new profession.

“Alright, Ro-El. First things first. The interrogation the Legionnaires put you through revealed some things, such as your age, your gender, your race and of course your name. What I do need to know are other things, skills, knowledge and your birthsign.” The Bosmer had rushed off to a second room I only just noticed. He came out a bit later with a big book and a quill.
“I’ll write it all down. From the impression I’ve just received, you are not much of a talker and being a slave means you are unlikely to know much about economics either. So that means Speechcraft and Mercantile are in need of improvement. Next, you appear to be either clumsy or you just have bad luck. I’ll need some more observation to decide on that. You are intelligent enough to come up with overly complicated escape plans when needed, so I’ll put a plus next to your intelligence profile. That leaves us with the other things. Do you know on which day you were born?”

I was feeling dizzy from the rapid talking. It took a moment before I’d realized the question was directed at me. I shrugged.
“I have no idea to be honest.” I muttered. Leroth noted it down in that big book of his.
“In the field, such a slow answer could have been fatal. Pay attention.” And so the questioning continued.

I put the book away. Leroth looked at me expectantly.
“And, what is your impression of this book?” He asked me.
“Propaganda. Don’t try to beat Helseth as he is the best schemer in the world. Geez, is that all necessary?” I complained. My head felt as if someone crammed the whole castle in it. When Leroth spoke, his voice was quieter, more serious.
“It’s called politics. You have to be mean. Nice kids are dead. The profession you’ve chosen is not a safe one, Ro-El Frost. Once in, you can’t get out. It’s as if you dove headfirst into a deep pool. The danger you’ll face will not be as blunt as the bandits the Legionnaires fight against. No, your danger will be subtle, a hand behind the curtain, a dagger in the hand, poison on the dagger’s blade. It will kill you, without you knowing it was ever there. Don’t expect it to play by the rules. There are no rules. Now go, this was enough for today.”

I looked at the book’s cover before leaving. A game at diner. If this was the game, I did not want to be a part of it. Yet, as Leroth said, I had no choice. The only option I had was to learn how to play this game. My mind was in turmoil as I navigated the dark maze. A light appeared beyond the corner.

My feet stopped. I realized that no one should be this close to Leroth’s hideout. Unless it was Serius. And I had the distinct belief that Serius would stay away from here if he could help it. Who would be here now? Whatever his reason was, I did not want to know. I turned around and ran, leaving my own torch behind.

Without any light, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that I ran straight into a wall. I came to a noisy and painful stop, on the floor. There was the sound of rushing air, nearly silent footsteps coming closer. I felt the sharp blade of a dagger being pressed against my throat.
“My writ is not on you. Don’t interfere.” The assassin’s voice hissed in my ear. I closed my eyes, wishing that it would end.

When the assassin left, I remained where I was. I just lied on the ground, crying. I was so frightened that he would come back to kill me. Right now, I would have done everything to be back in that mine, harvesting eggs till my body broke down. My body was fine and healthier than ever, yet my soul had been shattered in one swift blow. Eventually, I passed out from exhaustion, the adrenaline and shock having taken their toll.

I stared at the ceiling without seeing a thing. I was not made for this life. Danger, lies and death lurking in the shadows were not my idea of pleasant activities. I sighed. It wasn’t just me who was living that life. Leroth, Dren, even Serius were all involved. Especially Dren, who had to play the game both in the open and behind the curtains. I tried to imagine how it would be, to fear every meal in case it had been poisoned. To go to bed, wondering if you would wake up to see the next day. To judge every man, woman and child before you, hoping that they weren’t an assassin hiding behind an innocent face. No, then those who kept low and seemingly outside the whole matter had the better deal.

I forced myself to get out of the bed. I did not know who brought me to my room, so I had no idea what happened after I passed out. Now, I was determined to find out. Leroth deserved that much. He’d been the closest thing to a friend here. Serius was always cold and distant while the duke, he was too busy to talk. I would find the Bosmer and if he was dead, I would make sure he received a proper burial. I hoped this wouldn’t be needed though I feared the worst.

Through the last few days, I’d learned a lot from the talkative Bosmer. Most importantly, I’d learned to recognize tiny scratches on the wall that allowed me to know where I was inside the dark tunnels. I stormed through, my fingers stroking against the cold stone, slowing down only when I had to pass a servant. As I went in deeper, the amount of traffic dropped rapidly. Soon, I was all alone, deep underneath the ground.

The plain wooden door looked as if nothing ever happened. It had no right to look as if nothing happened. I threw it open and marched into the room without even bothering to check if it was safe. The room looked just like when I left. A game at diner was still lying on the table. The disastrous results of my Alchemy experiments still bubbled and sizzled angrily. The Imperial shortsword was still stabbed into the training dummy’s heart. The only sign of what had happened was the large pool of dry blood at my feet.

For a moment, I’d lost all hope. Then, I finally noticed what I should have noticed right away. Someone was snoring. I grinned. My fears had been completely useless. Leroth was sleeping in his bed. There wasn’t a problem at all.

The Bosmer opened one eye.
“Oh, hi Ro-El. Nice to see you. I was wondering if you’d show up today. Eh, I’m afraid that I need to stay in the bed for a few days. So I’ve been thinking.” He whispered. I leaned in closer so I could hear what he was saying. It was then that I noticed the bandage covering his throat. The assassin had come close, very close to finishing his job.
“The duke wanted to send me to Ald-Rhun. Something about Sarethi being a murderer. Athyn Sarethi is an influential member of the Redoran council. This could cause a large shift in the balance of power. So, could you go in my place and find out what is going on? I’ve prepared a package for you to take. It’s on the table. Now, goodnight.” Leroth fell asleep almost instantly.

With nothing better to do, I picked up the package. It contained only a few documents and a pouch filled with a small fortune. I read the first document. It was a publicly available guide to Ald-Rhun. Then, I had a small list of inhabitants and whatever we knew about them. Finally, there was a note regarding the shipping of goods right here in Ebonheart. The last note got me.

Leroth didn’t plan to send me to Ald-Rhun at all. He’d simply given in to my constant complaints and presented an easy way out, including the money to start a new life. I crumpled the last document and burned it with a candle. I would no longer back out of things. Whether Leroth had wanted me to do this or not, I was going to Ald-Rhun.

No one saw me leave that night. No one would see me return until I’d found out about the truth.

I arrived two days later, amidst a raging storm. Shielding my face with an arm, I stumbled into the first building I came upon. I wiped the ash out of my eyes before I could view my surroundings. Two people, an Argonian and a Breton, watched me silently. Judging by their robes and the scrolls lying on a nearby table, I had found the local mage guild.
“Ash storm. Mind if I stick around till it calms down?” I asked. The howling of the wind against the giant crabshell provided the truth behind my words.

The Breton motioned towards the table.
“No problem at all. It isn’t the first time a blown away traveller comes by. Vvardenfell is known for Ebony, Kwama eggs and the nastiest weather in the Empire. Take a seat.”

As we sat down, the Breton poured some flin into two cups. The Argonian went back to his studies.
“So, traveller. Where are you from? Any good rumours lately?” The Breton inquired. I took a short sip from the flin before answering.
“Pelagiad. Nothing much, just a few cases of the flu. What about here?” I replied. The Pelagiad bit was not entirely a lie. I had passed the small town during my journey and there had indeed been a few cases of the flu.
“I suppose you’ll hear soon enough. Strange things have been happening. They say that Morvayn’s house is overrun by monsters, though no one is willing to tell more about it. And then our Archmaster now claims that young Sarethi is a murderer. Of his best friend on top of all things! Those two were always seen around, getting into trouble. I can’t believe it.”

I kept the rest of the conversation on the idle chit-chat level. What little I’d learned about the murder was interesting. After our drink, I got to tour the hall. While interesting, there wasn’t anything for me to do here except buy a few scrolls. I knew nothing of Magicka and learning would take time, too much time. I had no doubt that I was already being searched back at Ebonheart. I would have to finish my business here as soon as possible.

The storm had ceased. I stepped outside of the hall where I took out my guide to Ald’Rhun. There was a mention of the Rat-in-the-Pot cornerclub. No place was better for getting supposedly secret information than the shadiest place in town. No place was better for getting into trouble.

In the club, I stuck to the side, keeping out of conversations and away from any drunks. The trick here was eavesdropping while enjoying a good drink, which I did.
“Hey kid, are you interested in some merchandise?” I looked up to see a Dunmer with extremely bad breath look down on me. His eyes sat deep within their sockets, his mouth revealed rotten teeth and several disgusting boils sat on his face. His eyes were even redder than was normal for his race. I wondered what kind of disease caused this.
“No thank you. I don’t need anything.” I said in an attempt to make him lose interest and go away. Instead, he gripped me by the shoulder. There was much more strength in his hands than I expected.

“Come on. I tell you, it is all the rage among you Redorans. Everyone wants one. You don’t want to look like a kid without any money, do you?” He insisted.
“If I buy something, then I’ll become the kid without any money. Now what makes you think that I’m a Redoran?” I asked him with a somewhat tense tone in my voice. Instantly, the Dunmer let go of my shoulder.
“Oh, sorry. It’s the clothes, you see. I’m sorry for having wasted your time. Well, I must be going.” The man mumbled and shuffled away. I could barely fight back a grin as I took a scrap of paper out of my pocket.

I’d noticed how he was constantly checking his pocket. When he had been distracted by gripping my shoulder, I slipped a hand into the pocket and retrieved the little scrap of paper. I finished my drink and left the tavern before he could notice he had lost something. Outside, I took a look at my prize. His suspicious behaviour made me think that it would be more than just his Ash yam recipe.

Here is another crate of statues. These are to be placed here in Ald'ruhn. Place the statues quickly and wisely. Destroy this note. Do not disappoint me again.

Hanarai

I whistled silently. Looks like I hid the jackpot at suspicious dealings. I had the distinct feeling that something was up with those statues. If it wasn’t because they had to be placed, the strange behaviour of the seller or the fact that the previous load had been disappointing, it was the bit where my Dunmer friend was told to destroy the note. Notes were only destroyed when they had served their purpose or they contained words that shouldn’t be shown to just anyone. I suspected the latter.

A quick look at my own information revealed the existence of a female Dunmer going by the name of Hanarai Assutlanipal. I decided to pay the lady a quick visit.

I knocked politely on the door and waited for it to open.
“Just a moment!” I heard a quick shuffling inside. Now this was suspicious. I calmed my mind as I waited. After a full ten minutes, the door finally opened. Wary eyes glared at me.
“What do you want, Outlander?” Hanarai spat at me, emphasizing the word ‘Outlander’. I smiled as I made a little bow.
“Oh, I ran into your associate a while ago. He was willing to sell me some most interesting merchandise but alas, his supply had run out. He told me to see you for you would certainly still have a statue.” I spoke with a quick tongue. In the meantime, I managed to sneak a quick glance into the house behind her back.

It was a bit dusty. I could see two pairs of footprints. One pair obviously belonged to Hanarai while the other belonged to something bigger, something inhuman.
“I don’t sell to Outlanders.” She shouted before slamming the door shut in my face. I stood there, thinking if that disease both Dunmers were suffering from was contagious. Right now, I was convinced I was dealing with something big. Hanarai got extremely agitated the moment I mentioned the statue. I had no solid proof, yet my master had told me that in some cases, an Agent had to rely on instinct. My instinct was screaming to take a closer look.

I made sure no one was watching before jumping on top of a nearby cart. From there, I could reach the roof and climb up onto the chimney. I hid out of the view of any passing people.
“I praise you, oh great lord. Soon, Ald-Rhun shall be in your grasp, a bastion from which we can purify the lands of those who deny you. Even at this moment, I have spread our agents into the Redoran council. Sarethi and Venim manor have fallen under your spell. Those who would not fall, Morvayn and that young Dunmer who always hung around Sarethi manor have been removed by your men. Have faith, for the Sixth House shall rise from the ashes.” Hanarai was apparently saying some sort of prayer inside her home.

I counted the facts down with my fingers.
One, I was dealing with some sort of fanatic rambling about a Sixth House. Two, Ald-Rhun was slowly being conquered from within through treachery and foul play. Three, Sarethi had fallen under a spell and the young Dunmer hanging around Sarethi manor was likely Varvur’s late friend. Conclusion, I had definitely hit the jackpot here. What would follow was taking action against the bad guys, or bad woman in this particular case. The only fact I forgot to take into account was the rumour about monsters invading Morvayn manor. I also forgot about the big footprints I’d seen.

The chimney was not only a good tool for eavesdropping, it was also a good entrance for when the door was locked. I dropped down, landing in the fireplace softly. Fortunately, there was no fire burning. A quick look on the upper floor revealed that Hanarai had ventured down the stairs. I followed, without a sound. The door was open and I would never forget the horror I faced beyond.

Hanarai was not alone. Her little chapel was filled by a hulking mass of flesh. Upon seeing me, it gave a loud grunt and limped up the stairs towards me. Hanarai also turned around.
“You again! You have seen that which you shouldn’t have seen. Now die!”

Both the monster and the Dunmer woman came up to meet me. I withdrew my hands into my sleeves, pulling out two steel throwing stars. I lobbed the first at Hanarai’s knee and the second went straight for the thing’s face. The woman fell down as the star penetrated yet the creature didn’t even seem to notice the sharp bit of metal sticking into its flesh. I cursed loudly as I realized the trouble I was in.

It swung slowly at me with a massive arm. I ducked under the blow and then kicked at its leg. Pain shot up my own leg in return. This thing had some really hard skin. It swung its arm back, forcing me to jump back, up against the wall. When it brought back its arm for a third swing, I pushed off against the wall and soared up into the air. My boot came into firm contact with its face which snapped back with a satisfying crack of shattered bone. Pleased with the knowledge that nothing could survive a broken neck and a nose in the brains, I landed behind its back and moved to arrest Hanarai.

The woman had pulled herself up from the floor again and now brandished a digger gleaming with venom. “You will never get me! Now die!” She shouted again. I rushed forward and knocked the dagger out of her hands with my fist while my foot connected with the still healthy knee. With both knees officially ruined, she was helpless.
“Now can’t we calm down and solve this peacefully? Hanarai Assutlanipal, You are hereby placed under arrest according to the authority granted to me by the Duke of Ebonheart. You can come along quietly or you can make me knock you out. Your choice.” I spoke with a calm but stern voice.

A shadow fell over me.
“Aw, crap.” I muttered as I spun around and drove my fist against the tough skin of the thing. It was still alive, somehow.
“Zombie, why did it had to be a zombie?” My train of thought never finished. Something sharp stabbed me from behind and all went black.

Consciousness slowly ebbed back to me. The first impressions I received were that of a moving floor and some serious pain in my back. I recollected my wits and kept still as I assessed my physical situation. My arms were tied behind my back, I was gagged and wounded, not good. Fortunately, the wound wasn’t too serious. If it had been, I wouldn’t be lying there thinking about it. Still, I’d better figure out something before I was disposed off, permanently.

Some more listening further revealed aspects of my problem. I was on a cart, dragged forward by a Guar. The zombie was walking along and my not so pleasant host was in control of the vehicle. I carefully opened my eyes. That was when I finally got some good news. Apparently my scrolls had been seen as too expensive to throw away. When you are in big trouble, use anything you can. That could be my motto.

I slowly shuffled closer to the stack of scrolls till I could reach it with my fingers. I snatched one of the stack and examined the ink with my fingertips. Bingo, one firestorm spell at my disposal. If I could get rid of the gag, that was. That problem would have to be solved in the simplest way possible.

I brought myself back into a helpless looking situation, hiding the scroll underneath me. I then delivered some inventive curses which were all muffled by the gag. That was okay, I was only trying to get Hanarai’s attention. It worked, as expected.

The Dunmer looked at me as if I was mud under her shoe. She then removed the gag.
“What’s the matter, N’Wah? Want to beg for your life?” She sneered. I simply grinned and aimed my back at the zombie.
“Not really, I’ve just been dying to try out one of these. COME FORTH, FLAMES OF OBLIVION!”

I wasn’t in the position to observe the results directly, though the sound of the explosion and the fire lighting up the entire area gave me an idea. Simply, I liked it. As a really convenient side-effect, the oversized fireball had also burned through my ropes before smashing into the zombie. I sprang up and threw the woman off the cart. Looking around, I saw only ash where the zombie remained. Not bad for a scrap of paper with enchanted ink.

This time I systematically made sure I’d broken all of her limbs before tying her up and putting her back on the cart. I took the reins and made the Guar turn around.
“I believe we need to discuss the finer points about taking prisoners. For one thing, make sure they don’t get any tools with which to escape or blow up the guards.” I told her smugly with the scrolls now on my lap, safely out of reach. Though it wasn’t likely for her to do anything with her body ruined like that.

“You killed him!” Hanarai snapped at me. I frowned.
“Technically, I didn’t kill anything. Zombies, or Bonewalkers as you call them, are already dead. You can’t kill something that’s already dead.” I replied. The utter hate on her face made me check if she was properly incapacitated once more.
“That was not a zombie. It was a man, blessed by our lord with his divine powers.” She spoke with a fanatic zeal.
“Blessing, it looked more like a curse to me. Now shut up, you can talk all you like when I drag you in front of the Redoran council on the charges of murder and undermining society.”

We arrived in the middle of the night. Needless to say, the Redoran guards were less than pleased with allowing me and my cargo inside the city. A few quick words convinced them that I was no problem and they even gave me directions to the council.

I opened the door and practically threw Hanarai inside. The Redoran council members sat before me and eyed me with more than just a little bit of suspicion.
“What’s this? Why do you interrupt our meeting?” One of them finally spoke. I nodded at the man.
“Miner Arobar I presume? I would like to borrow some of your time regarding an investigation I’ve conducted as ordered by Vedam Dren, Duke of Ebonheart. Mind if I hold a little interrogation with the suspect?” I answered politely. Arobar looked towards the man at the head of the table who, after a long wait, gave a short nod.
“Just make it quick, Outlander.” The man said sternly. Again with the Outlander thing. Really, I was wondering if there was a real difference here between the bad people and the good people. If they all behaved the same, then what was I trying to do?

“Thank you, Archmaster. You are much too kind.” I answered instead of voicing my real opinion concerning his manners. Some flattery always worked with these stuck-up people. I pulled out one of my scrolls and turned to Hanarai.
“Hanarai Assutlanipal, you are hereby charged with the following. Murder and placing the blame of said murder on Varvur Sarethi.” The table creaked as one of the council men tensed up and stared at us with a hint of anger crossing his face. “The containment of an unnatural and destructive creature under your home for the purpose of causing chaos and destruction throughout Ald-Rhun. The attack on Morvayn manor with the aid of said creature. The plotting of a political overthrow of this city through treachery and deceit. The illegal spreading of decorative objects that are believed to have a negative influence of some sort. Finally, any charges that may come apparent at a later date.” The only woman on the council had burst into tears. I instantly knew she was the widow and only survivor of the attack on Morvayn manor. On the inside, I felt sorry for bringing up bad memories but I had a duty to fulfil here.

I rose the scroll in front of my face.
“I have a simple question to ask. You will answer with the truth.” I informed the Dunmer. My eyes took in the Daedric runes written on the scroll.
“YOUR BODY, YOUR SOUL BELONGS TO ME!” A green haze enveloped her. The words I used to invoke the scroll of commanding left a bad taste in my mouth. Nevertheless, I leaned in closer as I fired my single and most important question.
“Are you guilty?”

We could see her battle the effects of the scroll.
“Yeeeee……NO, I’M NOT!” The sudden outburst caught me by surprise. I was convinced I would get a confession right now. I glanced at the scroll in my hands.
“The effect lasts only five seconds, figures.” I noted with a grim expression.

Still, she had almost confessed before breaking free from the scroll. As such, the councilmembers were now in hot debate. I couldn’t quite follow it. Both Athyn Sarethi and Brara Morvayn insisted on interrogating Hanarai further, seeing as how they were personally involved, namely Athyn’s son and Brara’s husband. Finally, they seemed to reach a decision. Or rather, the Archmaster reached a decision.
“You have a lot to explain, Outlander. How dare you mistreat an innocent woman like that? Truly you barbarians from the Empire know nothing about the rights of the Dunmer.” Ok, that was the wrong answer.

The door was slammed open before either the Archmaster or I could go into a debate. We all watched to see who the newcomer was. The first thing I noticed was that the man was a Redguard, a bit short for a Redguard but still a Redguard. The second thing I noticed was the power of Magicka his equipment radiated, especially his Cuirass and the Claymore on his back. The third and final thing I noticed was the man’s spirit. He showed all signs of containing a power that was unlike anything found on Nirn. Who was this man really? The only beings I’d felt who showed similar spiritual power were the Daedra though this man’s spirit was much stronger than that. We all felt it, even those who were otherwise completely unconnected to Magicka.

The Redguard displayed a smug grin.
“Sorry I’m late, there was this Cliffracer flying around your crab so I just had to chop it up.” He joked. His face then grew darker as he saw Hanarai sitting on the floor.
“You smell like the Corprus. What did he promise you? Power, immortality? Well, what did he promise you?” He asked her. His presence was most threatening and I had to stop my hands from shaking even though I wasn’t the one who had to face his wrath. To my surprise, Hanarai merely laughed.
“The same things he promised you, lord Nerevar. Why do you deny your lord? Why do you fight him? He will come and all that is not his, shall be destroyed. Just like the Morvayn’s, the Sarethis and all of Vvardenfell, all that denies him shall be destroyed. Even your beloved Telvanni shall not survive. So why fight, when you can join him?” She yelled at the Redguard’s face. I must’ve looked really dumb. The only Nerevar I knew was a dead Dunmer in the history books.

“If your god is even half as powerful as you all claim he is, then why does it take so long for him to take over the world? Why do you deny me? I’m going to kick your silly Dagoth Ur’s behind and everything that is his, shall get a severe headache! Now take that disgusting wreck away.” The man known as Nerevar spoke, his last words meant for the guards. To my further surprise, none of the Redorans complained.

The Archmaster looked at me. His hate for Outlanders was apparent. Behind me, Nerevar put a hand on my shoulder.
“Don’t worry about that old drunkard. If he tries anything funny, I’ve got you covered.” He whispered in my ear. I gave a barely noticeable nod to show I’d heard him.
“Very well, Outlander. It appears that you have found the source behind the trouble that plagues our city. A delusional source that is evidently addicted to Skooma. You may leave.” The Archmaster said.

I did but before the doors closed behind me, I could hear how the next matter of their meeting was discussed.
“Now, you aim for the title of Hortator?” I decided that as soon I got back in Ebonheart, I would ask Leroth what a Hortator was. My hand closed upon the letter that explained the results of my investigation. I just hoped that my little escapade would be forgiven.

Once again, it took two days to travel. Two days of doing nothing but enjoying the weather. Ebonheart looked just as when I’d left it, the castle simply towering over everything else. Well, nearly everything else. Vivec’s cantons were much bigger. No one tried to stop me as I made my way to the entrance, for which I was grateful. I’d probably have a lot of explaining to do.

I’d barely set foot inside the castle when someone grabbed me by the neck.
“There you are. What have you been doing?!” Serius growled. Ok, now I was getting nervous. An angry Serius was a bad thing.
“Business. I’ve investigated a certain matter in Ald’rhun.” I replied as calm as I could. Serius let me go.
“Business? I don’t think you know the meaning of the word, kid.” He sneered before walking away, leaving me to rub my sore neck.

“Ro-El! There you are!” I looked up and saw Leroth. In the few days I’d been gone, he’d gone through a remarkable recovery. He began to drag me over towards the council chambers.
“Why did you come back?” He whispered into my ear.
“Trouble was brewing and someone had to deal with it. In this case, me. I suppose we’re getting a debriefing now?”

As I’d already guessed, I was brought into the Duke’s bedroom for a meeting with the man. Today, he was wearing some comfortable clothing instead of his armour. As he said, Ebony was good for intimidating people but it really itched.
“So, Ro-El Frost. I hear you’ve conducted a private investigation?” He asked me, with a considerably warmer voice than during our first meeting. Apparently, it wasn’t only his attire that changed in a private environment.

I gave him the letter which told him everything he would like to know, and more.
“There had been a rumour that Varvur Sarethi has been responsible for the murder on his best friend. Varvur’s father, Athyn Sarethi, is an important member of the Redoran council. The embarrassment and political leverage his enemies could gain on him through this event would cause a shift in the balance of power on the Redoran council. My investigation lead me to the one who was really responsible for this murder.”

I paused for a moment to take a deep breath. Leroth nodded me to continue.
“ Hanarai Assutlanipal, a Dunmer resident of Ald’rhun, has instead influenced Varvur through the means of a curse similar to the Command Humanoid spell. This spell was bound to a peculiar kind of red statue which she and her accomplice spread through Ald’rhun. Both have been sentenced to execution. Now, Hanarai apparently also kept a shrine in her house dedicated to the so called Sixth House, whatever that means. I couldn’t find out much about this Sixth House, except that its influence spreads throughout Vvardenfell. It also has the use of Bonewalker-like creatures. I’d like to investigate this Sixth house further.”

The Debriefing took the better part of three hours. After the Duke had finally heard enough, Leroth and I were dismissed. We then went over to my room where we sat down to discuss a few things regarding my training. Basically, Leroth thought I was ready for the simple jobs. If Ald’rhun was supposed to be simple, then what were the hard jobs? I pushed that thought to an empty corner of my mind. I had other things to think about.
“Leroth, what is an Hortator?”

Leroth looked at me with that funny expression he always wore when he was surprised.
“Hortator? Well, a Hortator is a warleader of sorts, a general. He leads the houses in war. The Hortator is the only authority, not counting King Helseth or the Tribunal, who may command the houses. Frankly, with all that political scheming, all the Hortators have died within a week. The only one who lasted longer was Nerevar Indoril himself, the Tiber Septim in Dunmer culture. Why do you want to know?” He explained.
“I met a Redguard there. At least, he looked like a Redguard. His spirit was something completely different. Heck, I’m not even sure if he was even mortal. He wanted to be given the title of Hortator.” I fell silent as I remembered something Hanarai had said.
“Hold on, that Dunmer, Hanarai Assutlanipal, she called him lord Nerevar. So the first Nerevar was a Hortator, now there’s a Redguard with an unique spirit who is called Nerevar. What’s going on here? I’m so confused.” I muttered and shook my head.

Leroth sighed.
“Understandably. I believe I know the man you are speaking of. Luper Alkad, the Redguard. He’s quite an interesting person, I might say. Released from an Imperial prison and then brought into the Emperor’s private spy organization, the Blades. He has been part of the mage guild but was expelled after some unknown mistake he made. After that, he joined House Telvanni and has since risen at an unbelievable pace. In fact, he now holds the rank of Arch-magister. Finally, there are rumours of him being called Nerevarine. Nerevar reborn. Quite an interesting man, quite a dangerous man. Stay away from him, Ro-El. We are not in the position to take action. We lack both the information and the manpower. Telvanni are not to be taken lightly, especially a Telvanni of a non-magical race who has taken the highest rank in just a few months.” He told me with that serious tone he’d used when warning me of the dangers involved with my profession.
“You look tired, go get some sleep.” With those words, the Bosmer left.

I lied down on my bed and stared at the ceiling. Nerevar reborn, Hortator, the Sixth House. How where they all connected? And just what was this Luper Alkad? A Redguard, a reincarnated Chimer hero? Or something else? With every answer I found, two more questions seemed to appear.

Two men stood on a balcony at the very top of the tall tower, looking down on the land below. The sun shone brightly in the clear sky.
“I haven’t seen you since the formation of the council. I won’t say that I disapprove of you coming here yet I still need to ask. Why did you come?” The shortest of the two spoke. His pale skin and pitch-black beard provided a sharp contrast with the golden hue of his friend. The golden-skinned man gave a simple smile.
“The weather is nice today. You should get outside more often, my friend.” He said, evading the question.”

The pale man howled with laughter.
“That won’t happen soon, I’m afraid. Never forget that we are in the end, opposites. The sun and the grasslands belong to you, yet the shadows cast by the fire of the forge belong to me. No, I don’t think this will change too soon. Now, why did you come?” He repeated.
“Not now. After the sun has fallen into the sea, my friend. Then, I shall tell you why I’ve come.”

I munched on my bread without a care in the world. The bed had done its work as usual and I felt like I could run from one end of the island to the other. I also had a nice dream. So all in all, nothing was wrong. Sure, things might go bad at any moment but it’s not healthy to worry about it al the time. Since it was my day off, I decided to make the most of it. I went fishing.

I knew a really nice fishing spot, just behind the castle. There were always fish around, though none of the large and hungry Slaughterfish which was good. Fish that saw you as food weren’t very appetizing. As I approached my spot, I heard voices. Apparently I wasn’t the only one who knew about this place.

“I really don’t see your point in this. It will be fine, I tell you.” I recognized the voice as belonging to Leroth. Was he explaining the art of fishing?
“Fine? You always say it will be fine. Just look at you, you nearly lost your life to some amateur, sent the kid up against the Sixth House and yet still you insist on things being fine?!” Only one man had that gruff tone. Serius.
“But he succeeded, didn’t he? I’m telling you, the kid is ready. Dren won’t even notice till it’s too late. When he notices, we’ll be ready to tie him up and deal with his friends.” I swallowed back a curse.

Was Leroth planning on betraying the Duke? It sounded like that. Now that was something I did not need to hear. After all, I knew that there were no real rules in our shadowy trade. Yet, I had always held the principle of loyalty as the only thing separating us from the backstabbing murders, bandits and thieves we fought against. Now, it seemed as if Leroth had abandoned his loyalty. What was I supposed to do now? Did I have to remain loyal to Leroth who was my master, or the Duke, the man I worked for?

“Ready? Where do you think you get the right to tell if the kid is ready?” Serius argued.
“As Ebonheart’s spymaster, I know when someone is ready or not. Trust me, the kid is ready. I’m sure there will be no problems.” Leroth persisted.
“You said that Ephraim was ready!” Silence. Then, there was the sound of armoured boots stomping the wet mud. There was no chance for me to hide when Serius moved towards me. We spotted each other at the same time. I shivered. That conversation was something I wasn’t supposed to overhear. I would surely be punished.
“Know your limits, kid. Just know your limits.” The Imperial grunted and passed me without another word.

Leroth followed soon. There was an awkward silence between us. We both knew what had happened, what I’d heard.
“Ah, Ro-El. I was just going to see you. Since today was supposed to be our day off, I had a very pleasant trip planned.” He said with his usual cheery tone. Except that the cheerfulness was faked. My mind had kicked into high gear. I no longer knew if I could trust the Bosmer. If he planned to kill me or something, I had no chance against him. In the end, I was still the apprentice.
“Sure, where to?” I answered with the same faked cheerfulness.
“Balmora.”

Leroth didn’t plan on killing me, at least not at this time. The trip he’d planned took us to the Vivec mage guild where he bought a single teleportation to the Balmora mage guild. We vanished in a twirling cloud of Magicka and reappeared a moment later. I quickly took in my new surroundings, fighting off the disorientation that followed this kind of transportation. We were in a small office of sorts occupied by a Breton and a Khajiit who was working on a few potions behind her desk.
“Ok, there is something I don’t understand, master Leroth.” I began.

The Bosmer watched me intently.
“If as you claim we came here to test my talent for Magicka, then why did we pass through the Vivec hall? Being positioned in the capital, isn’t that the most likely place to do such a thing? Besides, didn’t we had this test before?” I continued. Leroth forced a smile.
“This is where the experts are.” He claimed.
“And since when do you care about who the expert is?”

The smile vanished.
“Oh, alright. I give up. We are not here to conduct this test. You see, I was in the arena last night, watching the Redoran Archmaster and the Mage guild Archmage getting killed. It was there that I saw this totally hot Bosmer chick!” He sputtered. I frowned.
“Bosmer chick?” I wasn’t so sure if I could just believe this. We’d come here for Leroth’s lovelife? I never knew he was the shy type who needed assistance at getting close to a woman. If so, he’d made a wrong choice. As he’d noted upon our first meeting, my conversation skills weren’t all that good. All I knew were some pickup lines I learned from a drunk Nord. I wasn’t exactly the most effective matchmaker. More like matchbreaker, really.
“Yes, she works in Balmora. She’s enchanted my heart.” I could hear the Khajiit snicker behind our backs. Leroth looked disappointed.
“I know, Ro-El. I’m just acting stupid. Let’s just hit a teleport back to Vivec.”

I turned around.
“What are you waiting for? We don’t have all day. I’m a busy man, you know.” I told him and grinned as I headed up the slope to the upper floor. Leroth threw his hat into the air.
“Whoopie! That’s my boy! Know what? I’ll organize the Magicka test as a bonus.” I simply shook my head when he said that. Yes, Leroth might have become a traitor or maybe not. Whatever was the case, he was still my friend and I would treat him as such for as long as possible.

We walked up the slope till Leroth stopped. He was merely staring at the door in front of us. I needed no further information. Without saying a thing, I knocked and went through. Leroth was too nervous to follow. The inhabitant of the small office was indeed a Bosmer, though I wasn’t capable of saying if she was hot or not. It takes a Bosmer to judge a Bosmer. Now how was I going to play mister love expert? As I’d said earlier, I only knew some pickup lines from a drunk Nord. That wouldn’t work.

I casually looked around the room as if I was browsing the Bosmer’s wares. Judging by all the soulgems lying around, I concluded that Leroth’s obsession happened to be an Enchantress.
“Hey, that’s a big one. What’s in it?” I said, pointing at a large purplish stone with spiky features.
“Yes, that is a Greater Soulgem filled with a Winged Twilight.” Bingo.
“Really? I bet that my friend would love to see this. He works with things like that, as a hobby.” I replied smoothly. As I’d hoped, that sparked the woman’s interest. Man, I might actually not screw up here.

“I would like to meet this friend sometime. Perhaps next time you visit?” The woman offered. Right up from that point, I knew I could not screw up anymore. Nothing gets a relationship started better than a good conversation over mutual interests.
“Actually, he’s browsing for some potions downstairs. We’re trying to deal with a case of the flu back home. I’ll go and drag him over. Please wait for just a second.”

Leroth was still standing outside the door, not sure what to do. I grabbed him by the arm and almost literally shoved him through the door, after waiting for an appropriate amount of time to hide the fact that Leroth had been eavesdropping on us all the time.
“Just have a nice talk and relax. I’m off to meet the steward.” I hissed into his ear before departing, leaving Leroth trapped in the Bosmer’s office. I would see the results of my matchmaking later.

“Now, hold still…….I’ll put you into a trance.” The Dunmer steward spoke. I closed my eyes and felt my conscious self plunge into the depths of my being.

The man waited patiently as the platform lowered through the dark shaft. Next to him, the stocky old man was pacing back and forth with a lot less patience.
“Calm down, master. A few minutes of waiting never killed anyone.” The man said to calm down his pacing friend.
“Hah, that’s easy for you to say, Dumac! But I, I don’t know what to expect. What if a problem occurred while I was out to fetch you and this Chimer buddy of yours? This is a masterpiece of unequalled complexity. Next to this, Numidium is as sublte as a rock!” The old man claimed.
Dumac gave his Chimer buddy a knowing grin.
“While I hate to sound as a critic, Numidium has never even done as much as move a single finger. So will this one work?” He asked the old man.

“It is all a matter of the right powersource. Numidium is big and as such requires a lot of power. This new Centurion will be smaller and therefore require less power to move. Already, we have claimed the souls of a hundred Dremora and bound them into several massive soulgems of unequalled perfection.” He explained as the platform finally reached the end of the shaft and now lowered into a giant chamber lit by countless Dwemer lights. In the middle, the unfinished shape of a Humanoid Centurion drew all attention. The old man spread out his arms, as if encompassing the entire room in his grip.
“I present to you, the great bane of the barbarious nordfolk and the defender of Resdayn. Pelinal!”

All three gazed upon the giant Centurion.
“Pelinal, the Glorious Knight.” The Chimer whispered. He looked at Dumac who smiled.
“Now Resdayn will be safe against any invasion.” The Chimer said. Dumac sighed.
“True, but is it needed?” He wondered. Pelinal stood there at the center of attention, like a god. It was a symbol, both of hope and destruction.

I opened my eyes and stared in the steward’s.
“What was that?” I asked bluntly. The steward whose name I did not know shook her head.
“That which you saw can only be seen by you, it is the very core of your soul. What did you see?” She asked me in return.
“I saw……..Pelinal.” I answered after a long silence.

The steward frowned.
“You mean Pelinal Whitestrake? That is unusual. I’ve never met anyone who received a vision with Pelinal Whitestrake.” I shook my head upon hearing that.
“No, just Pelinal.” Something told me, a feeling, that I shouldn’t tell her that my Pelinal came in the form of a giant Dwemeric construct. I had no idea what to make out of it myself.

The people in my vision were no strangers to me. I’d dreamed about them before, sporadically. Ever since I came to Vvardenfell though, those dreams had come more often. What was going on with me? I kept my questions in front of me as we went through more questionable tests. Finally, after my patience had worn as thin as a spider’s thread, the steward gave me the results.
“There is plenty of Magicka hidden inside you. So theoretically, you should have all the means necessary to becoming a mage. With the proper training.” The steward left no doubt about what she considered proper training. Training that delivered shiny coins into her pockets.

“But? There’s something here you’re not telling me.” I pressed her to voice the thoughts she’d kept silent. The steward shot me a sharp look, realizing that she’d underestimated me for yet another ‘dumbwitted Nord’.
“You appear to be connected somehow to something, though I have no idea what. In essence, all of your Magicka is being drawn across this connection towards the other end.”

My eyebrows rose a notch. This was new. When Leroth conducted the test himself, all he knew was that I was totally unable to cast even the simpliest spell. He found nothing about some connection. I might not be dumbwitted, but this proved to be a mystery even for me. Did it have anything to do with my vision?

I excused myself and left the building with the intent of getting a bite to eat and perhaps a single flin to drink. The Plates looked like a decent place so I crossed the street. Inside, I found your usual drunkards, guards off duty and…….a Bosmer couple having a romantic diner. I turned around and left instantly. It was best not to interrupt them. Which lead me to the obvious conclusion of having to find somewhere else to drink. A short bit of walking led me to my new drinking spot. The Council club.

The door opened before me. I had just begun to appreciate the apparent friendliness when I found out that the door had not been opened for me. Instead, a Dunmer in rather cheap clothes was shoved out by a younger Dunmer sporting a ridiculous haircut. Once outside, the two began to yell at each other.
“I know you did it! I was there, I saw you!” The woman shrieked and was promptly rewarded by a slap in the face that sent her to kiss the street.
“Shut up, hag! No one would ever believe a simple maid such as you! Nine-Toes killed Ralen Hlaalo, not me! Now get out!”

The maid argued a bit more about Argonians not having Dwemer axes and that the murderer had exactly the same haircut as he had. In the end though, said axe forced her to swallow her words and storm off. I shook my head before going inside myself. My desire to drink had diminished greatly. My desire for justice though had only been stimulated. I’d rather believe a hysterical maid than a brute like him.

“Hi.” I cheerfully greeted the bandit as I took my usual glance at the room. A smith, plenty of heavy tools and of course that big axe. The violent type. He looked at me in a manner eerily similar to the way my masters in the egg mine had looked at me. As if I was a tool.
“What do you want, scum?” He hissed.
“Now, now. No need to get so formal with me. I’ve just been looking for the best smith in town to fix a family heirloom which I, poor me, seem to have broken.” I replied with a perfect sense for drama. While the Dunmer rolled his eyes, I quickly emptied his pockets. He noticed something though and his hand was about to enter his now empty pocket.
“So, could you be so kind and help me out?” I interrupted him before my situation could go bad. The movement of his hand stopped just hair’s width from the pocket.

“And what is this family heirloom you speak of?” He asked me, making it perfectly clear that I was wasting my time.
“Your reproductive organs.” I told him with a stupid grin before snatching a hammer from the anvil and slamming it into the mentioned area. He keeled over which gave me the chance to deliver a vicious kick to the face, breaking his nose and sending him rolling down the stairs. Now my chance for a drink had been ruined for the second time. I snatched an unopened bottle of Mazte from the floor and made a quick exit.

Outside, I had a chance to examine the items I’d found. My hands produced the usual kind of junk and…a note. What was it with bad people and forgetting to get rid of their notes?

Thanelen Velas, my brother in the Camonna Thong. It has come to my ears that Ralen Hlaalo opposes my ideals. Remove him in any manner you see fit, as long as he will never breathe again. Feel free to blame one of those scaled animals for the deed.

D

And it was a good note as well. At least on this island such things were considered sufficient evidence. I walked by a guard and slipped it into his pocket, making sure he noticed but without giving him a chance to recognize me.
“Hey! Thie……..huh, what’s in my pocket?” I was gone before he had gotten over the surprise. Five minutes later, six heavily armed Hlaalu guards barged into the council club. Another five minutes later, they came out again, dragging a heavily beaten Velas with them. One more crook behind the bars.

I sat down at the edge of the bridge spanning the river at the center of the city and enjoyed my Mazte. The note had raised another question. This wasn’t simply a random act of violence. No, someone had made a decision to assassinate sir Hlaalo without using the official authorities on assassination, the Morag Tong. Apparently, the Camonna Tong had been seen as a better tool for this crime. Why, and who was this D? I sighed heavily as a dark thought clouded my mind. D, maybe it was Duke Dren. Was this why Leroth was thinking about betrayal? Or was I wrong altogether. Was something else going on here? If so, then what?

I wandered around the city aimlessly for a few hours till Leroth finally managed to drag himself away from the ‘totally hot Bosmer chick’. As we walked back to the mage guild to hit our teleport to Vivec, we talked a bit about how we’d wasted our time. He went on for a long time about how wonderful Galbedir was and all. Me, I gave my story in just two minutes. I told him everything, except about who wrote that note. I believed it would be smart not to confront Leroth with my suspicions.
“So let me get this straight, you hit a murderer in the groin with a hammer and then kicked him down the stairs, only to have him arrested by a whole bunch of guards a few minutes later?” Leroth asked me with that funny voice of his.
“Well….that sort of sums it up. It was rather funny though.”

Leroth stopped to stare at me as if I was a Dremora.
“Funny?! The guy is Camonna Tong! They’re the ones who pull the ropes in House Hlaalu. Our murderer will be out again by tomorrow and he’ll make sure to have you added to their death list. You stupid fool!” The Bosmer nearly literally exploded. I was blushing. I hadn’t thought about that when I messed with the smith.
“Sorry.” I muttered and shrugged. From what I’d heard, the Camonna Tong was on our death list and would be wiped out someday. Nothing to worry about.
“Sorry won’t help you at all. You’ll have to skip town, kid. I’ll have to find a use for you.” Leroth’s eyes focussed on nothing as he paced around.
“I got it. Head to the Bitter Coast, Seyda Neen. Just follow the road and the signs. You’ll pass Pelagiad on the way. There, meet up with our local agent and help him investigate the smuggling activities. It is a full-time job so it should keep you busy till things cool down over here.” He elaborated.

We had arrived at the gate by now.
“So, how will I recognize your agent? He is undercover, right?” I asked.
“Oh, I almost forgot. He has a necklace with a tiny wooden spoon attached. You can’t miss him. He’s the finest agent we have so make sure you pay attention and learn a few things. Now, get going.” I didn’t knew if Leroth wanted to have me out of the way because of the Duke, or simply because I had been acting as a fool with a short temper again. Perhaps both.

I spoke a simple word of goodbye and headed out on the road. Having spent the night in Pelagiad, I arrived at Seyda Neen somewhere around lunchtime. My growling stomach alerted me to the time of the day so I made a quick stop at a place called Arille’s Tradehouse. I kept my meal simple, just a flin and some bread. Obviously, there wasn’t a lot to do here.
“Oh my, a new inhabitant. Vodunius Nucius, at your service.” An Imperial plopped down on a stool next to me and slapped me on the shoulder as if we were best of friends. Needless to say, we weren’t. I for one didn’t like people who acted to total strangers like that. It was fishy.

My suspicions were revealed when he pulled out a scroll and began writing on it.
“Of course, that means there are certain procedures. Shall we discuss it over a flin? What could your name be, good sir?” I managed a quick glance at the scroll and memorised what he’d written. Then, I mentally translated the upside down writing. A tax report.
“No, sorry. I’m just passing through. So according to the law, I don’t need to pay any taxes.” I replied and then turned my back to him. A moment later, Vodunius Nucius had moved around again into my field of view.

“Looking at my tax report, aren’t we? You must be hiding something. Don’t think I don’t know you. Hah, thieves. That’s what you all are, miserable thieves with no respect for law and order.” He chuckled with an icy voice.
“If you don’t shut up and go accuse someone else, I will show you my respect for law and order.” I replied in the same tone. The man had struck a nerve and he would regret it if he kept pushing.

Vodunius kept pushing. In fact, he shouted a barely concealed challenge for all to hear.
“What, kid? Did the flin rise to your head? You’d better back down before someone here gets hurt!”
I grinned.
“Is that a threat?” I asked him politely. Vodunius grinned as well.
“As you are so observant. Yes, it is.” He told me and laughed at his own wit.
“Good.”

Three seconds later, I dropped a few septims on the counter and walked away.
“I don’t like threats. Here are your taxes. Use it to fix your bones.” I mumbled as I dropped a single septim onto the unconscious form of Vodunius. I then casually walked out of the building while whistling a nice tune.
“You have been trained by Leroth, I see. Good morning, hotheaded youngster.” I turned around to see who had spoken. A necklace with a wooden spoon caught my attention. It was the agent I was supposed to meet. In Leroth’s words, the finest in the order.

Silence ruled for a short moment between us. We came to an agreement and left town without being seen. For ten minutes, we walked along the coast, jumping over the few Mudcrabs in our way. Then, we stopped in front of a tomb.
“This should be far enough. You are?” The agent asked me.
“Ro-El Frost, from Ebonheart.” I replied and we shook hands. So far, the agent hadn’t told me his name yet but I was fine with that. Names were trivial, unimportant. In the end, the person behind the name was what mattered.
“Ah, Ro-El. Yes, now why did you come all the way to Seyda Neen? Got into trouble with that short temper of yours?”

I blushed slightly but nodded. We might as well keep honest with each other here in a world of lies and deceit.
“Sort of. I beat up and humiliated a murderer. Turns out he was Camonna Tong. So instead of waiting for them to check their death list, I got sent here to investigate smuggling activities.”
The agent nodded. Obviously, the story was familiar to him. Perhaps he’d once done something similar himself.
“Camonna Tong. I won’t sleep any less when they get beaten. Serves them right. As for the smuggling, that’s just a way to spend time. There are numerous caves around here, too many to clean out. I’d say we spend the night around a nice fire and get to know each other better. Cooked Crab meat is very good, trust me.”

He was right, the Crab meat was good. I also learned a great deal more of our agent. He was born in Elsweyr and moved to Vvardenfell at the age of twenty-one. There, he soon gathered himself a network of contacts which was taken into use by his lifetime friend, Leroth. He was good at being unnoticeable which helped him in scouting out any new arrivals on the island. Not only that, he also claimed to have a steady hand with the bow.
“The things I do for the Duke. You know, once I even had an entire tree blown up in my face just to keep my cover. So, what are your talents?”

I thought about the question for a while. I wasn’t really all that special in the end, only average.
“Getting into trouble, I guess. Fortunately, I’ve gotten a good pair of hands and feet to get me out of that trouble. That means, I know how and where to punch people. It’s too bad that I don’t quite think before punching. I once tried to punch a zombie, bad idea.”

Our conversation moved onto less serious subjects, such as the ‘101 uses for Cliffracer plumes and other bodyparts’, a well-known book among the locals. The sun dove into the sea and the moons rose up into the night sky. We covered up the fire, dropped ‘calm creature’ stones around our campsite and called it a night. The sound of a nearby Scrib soothed us into our sleep.

The banquet was, as always, incredibly vast. A Kwama pie the size of three men adorned one table, ten grilled Slaughterfish the other. Men, women and children from all over the island had come. Dumac walked around the hall, drifting from conversation to conversation.
“I notice that you’re not eating, my friend.” A voice called out behind him. Dumac turned around slowly and gave an apologetic grin.
“I have a banquet like this five days a week. If I just go around and stuff myself full each day, I end up fatter than a Kwama queen.” He said and laughed loudly. The Chimer chuckled before putting a hand around his friend’s shoulder.

“Remember what I told you? I would tell you the reason for my coming after the sun had set. Well, there is my reason.” He spoke and gestured towards a female Chimer. The woman noticed this and bowed before the two.
“Dumac, meet Almalexia. Almalexia, meet the king of the Dwemer and my good friend, Dumac.” The Chimer proudly proclaimed.
Dumac looked from one to the other. He was amused by his friend’s antics.
“A woman? You came here just to say that you’re getting married? That’s wonderful! I’ll have to think of a wedding gift. A gift like no other. Give me a moment to think, ok?” He said.

Almalexia looked at the Dwemer. “So this is Dumac.” She thought, her face revealing none of the emotions inside.
“Numidium would be nice.” She said with a joking tone. The Chimer instantly laughed, Dumac merely frowned before laughing himself, a bit more hesitant.
“I don’t think it would fit through the door. Sorry, but I’ll settle for something a bit smaller.” He then pulled his Chimer friend away from his wife-to-be.

“Listen, Nerevar. I hate to spoil the fun, but she sounds ambitious.” He whispered. Nerevar shrugged.
“So? Who isn’t ambitious? You’re the king, don’t tell me that you aren’t ambitious.” He countered slightly annoyed. Dumac sighed.
“I know, and look at what I’ve caused. I’ve caused the death of thousands of people, I’ve lead armies into battle. Trust me when I tell you, ambitious women and men only cause the spilling of blood.” He warned.

The two friends stared at each other, the atmosphere cooler than usual.
“Nevermind that. She doesn’t look like a psychopathic murderer. So just go ahead and get married. And when you have some kids running around your house, uncle Dumac would be pleased to entertain them.” Dumac continued in a lighter tone.
“Speaking about marriage, kids and all. I was looking for a Chimer to wed myself.” Now it was Nerevar’s turn to frown.
“A political marriage? I thought you were against those. You turn down like, thirty marriage offers each year.”

Dumac laughed at the idea. It was true, he did turn down countless women each year.
“I know, I should be ashamed. It’s not just that though. I’m sure that there is a fine lass among your people who I’d be happy to marry even if I had to give up my social status for it. So that would be a political marriage with an advantage in my private life. So, expect me to pay a visit someday.”

As Nerevar returned to his love, Dumac fled to a less crowded corner of the hall.
“Why did she bring up Numidium? Not as a joke. Does she have any idea of the power such a thing requires to move? How that power could be abused? Or am I getting paranoid?”

The next day brought rain with it, lots of it. The rain perfectly displayed my own state of mind. My mind was clouded, thoughts swirling around in a mental storm. My dreams were getting stranger and stranger. Now that I’d gotten a few names to go on, it was even worse.
So Dumac was, the king of the Dwemer? And that woman was Almalexia, the Chimer was Nerevar. Nerevar and Almalexia as in, Nerevar Indoril and Almalexia, the Tribunal goddess?

The agent seemed to have noticed my behaviour.
“Anything on your mind?” He asked me curiously. I shrugged.
“Sort of, weird dreams mostly. About a bunch of Dwemer. No real clue why.” We looked at the sea for a while.
“You are not Dunmer, so that would make you immune to soulsickness. That, and your dreams don’t go about the usual subject. I’d say you are seeing too much into this.” The agent told me. Maybe he was right, but I had this distinct feeling I was seeing too little into this.

“Soulsickness eh? I never liked the sound of that. Can’t say what it is or where it comes from. The Dunmer blame the ash storms. I personally can’t see how a big load of dust makes you go wacko. Besides, soulsickness even spreads to those parts that are relatively ash free. When was the last time Balmora had to face an ash storm? Ebonheart records say three years ago. Back then, there were no reports of soul sickness on that part of the island.” Was my opinion on the dreaded curse that currently swept through the Dunmer population.

We walked back to Seyda Neen in silence. To my surprise, the agent continued past the small town till we reached a door set into the rock.
“Smuggling cave. It’s been cleared out a while back, only I’ve noticed that the operation had begun once more. So, I figured we might as well clean it up again to keep our neighbourhood safe.” The agent explained to me as he took out a bow made of Chitin. I couldn’t help but laugh at the thing. Those bows were known for ease of manufacture, low cost and their pathetic firepower. The agent gave a knowing grin.
“Not much to look at, isn’t it? Heh, I once took out a Flame Atronach with it, using a silver arrow of course. Don’t judge a weapon by its appearance, judge it by its wielder.”

I stepped up in front of the door.
“Any preference of entry?” I asked, already raising my foot. We both now grinned.
“Absolutely. When a door gets kicked in, everyone expects a barbarian with a big melee weapon or something, not a sneaky archer. You open the door, I put an arrow in the guard.” I took aim and hit the door right at the weak spot. With a loud crack, the lock broke and the door swung open. By then, I’d already ducked and rolled inside, feeling the arrow whistle over my head. There was a loud thunk and when I jumped up, the only one around to greet me was a Dunmer with a Chitin arrow right in the left eye.

We moved through the entrance chamber to another door. This time, we crouched down and listened before acting. Someone could be heard ascending a ladder.
“Hey Guvrayn, what’s all that noise?” A voice said with the unmistakable slur of drunkenness. I shrugged as I brought out my best imitation of a Dunmer voice. They all sounded alike, especially if you were drunk.
“I tripped over the guardamned bucket. Don’t you have anything better to do than breathing down my neck?” I hoped that the rudeness as well as my imitation would do the trick and keep him from busting through the door.
“You’re right. I’ve got a deal to make. Well, keep an eye on that door. We don’t wanna have any intruders poking their nose into our business.” The owner of the voice could be heard descending the ladder.

I stifled a laugh.
“Keep an eye on the door, we don’t want any intruders.” Well, too late pal. The agent was not laughing.
“Hrisskar. That damned drunkard of a Nord bully is a smuggler. I should have known. So that is one corrupt Legionnaire.” He hissed between clenched teeth. I understood that they weren’t exactly best friends.
“You take care of him, I’ll handle everyone else.” I offered. I then looked at the door and came to a conclusion. No noisy entrances this time. Using a simple lockpick, I managed to open the door almost without a sound. We slipped through and looked both ways carefully. We could either go up or down.

We went up first, where we found a storage room of sorts. No one was there so we turned around and now headed downwards. Peeking down the ladder, we spotted three people. One was a Nord, obviously Hrisskar, one was a Breton and the last was an Imperial. A surprising lack of Dunmer for a smuggling operation. I took a closer look at the Imperial. It was the rude tax collector. Waiting for the right opportunity to strike, we had a chance to eavesdrop on their conversation.
“So about that thing you found in Argonia. I’d like 3000 septims for it, no less.” The Breton demanded. Vodunius Nucius shook his head.
“Right, do you take us for a fool? It won’t do a thing unless that crazy mer tells it to. We’ll have to put up with that one as well. You can get 2000.” He countered. The Breton sneered.
“2000? Do you want to convict me to the life of a beggar? I’ll tell you what. 2500, and you get a favour from me as well.” During the whole conversation, Hrisskar didn’t say a word. It was obvious that he was acting as the tax collector’s bodyguard here. A dumb thug.

Vodunius gave a nasty smirk.
“Deal and here’s the favour. An outlander broke my nose and several other bones yesterday. He was last seen heading west. He wears blue clothes. I want you to find and kill him.” My eyes darkened. Outlander who broke his nose? It looked like Vodunius wanted to take his revenge on me. That could be arranged. I took a rapid look at our surroundings and came to a plan. I informed the agent of it with a few gestures of my hand. He nodded and nocked an arrow.

“Mind if I drop in on the party?” I shouted loud enough for everyone to hear. All heads turned towards me. Using a rope hanging from the ceiling, I swung down with and got the chance to break Vodunius’ nose for a second time. The Imperial was sent off of the wooden platform he was standing on and splashed into an underground lake. Now only the Breton and Hrisskar stood in my way. The Nord drew a sword and closed upon me while the robed Breton took his distance. I had full confidence that Hrisskar was taken care of so I advanced upon the fleeing Breton. A scream behind me notified me that the agent’s bow had struck.

“Now please don’t go away. We need to have a nice chat.” I told the Breton with one of my grins. That grin vanished as I realised that the Breton hadn’t been fleeing at all. He’d just been stalling for time. Time he needed to make fire. I managed to jump out of the way just in time to avoid a nasty burn. In doing so however, I’d pressed myself into a narrow corridor, removing all chances of evasion for the next shot.
“You’re playing with fire, kid.” The Breton gloated as his hands lit up once more. I threw up my arms in front of my face in a futile effort to shield myself from the flames that would surely consume me. With a mighty roar, the fireball closed in, its warmth washing over me and…..vanishing.

We were both surprised at my survival. My surprise became even greater upon feeling the power that welled up inside me. My hand moved on its own, pointing at the Breton. The same fireball that had threatened to consume me now shot forth again, consuming its creator instead. For a few moments, I stood there staring at the corpse. Emotions filled me, taking away any ability to act.

I was horrified, angry, and strangely satisfied. I’d killed someone, despite having never planned to do so. I had brought myself into an inescapable situation by underestimating the Breton. The spell that was supposed to kill me, it had been absorbed and then reused instead. After a long struggle, I managed to shake off these feelings and walked towards the corpse. I looked to the right where I saw Hrisskar facing of against the agent.

“What’s the matter with you. Did the alcohol give you a fool’s courage? I had nothing to do with it, I swear! I didn’t take your ring, the damn Redguard did! I didn’t tell him to go up to the lighthouse and find out where you hid it! I didn’t offer him money for it, even though he betrayed me! I had nothing to do with it!” The Nord howled. The agent calmly adjusted his aim and put an arrow in Hrisskar’s knee.
“Do you really think I ever cared about that ring? No. I am not what you think I am. The Fargoth you know is a disguise, a test. A test to see just who this prisoner was that the Census and Excise saw it fit to make a great fuss about. Everything was a calculated act, including having a tree get blown up in my face. I am not the loser I pretend to be. The real Fargoth can hit a Scrib from threehundred steps away. You are much bigger and a lot closer. As a representative of the Duke of Ebonheart, a servant of the empire, I give you the punishment for your betrayal and the disgrace you’ve become. Death.” With a single shot, Fargoth killed the Nord as if he was pouring a glass of Flin.

We looked at each other. Fargoth took a short glance at the smoking corpse of the Breton and shrugged.
“Smugglers usually suffer a violent death. His was much quicker than most. Perhaps you’d like to fish Vodunius out of the water. Being a tax collector here appears to be a bad choice of profession.” The agent chuckled. I didn’t say a word, still shaken by the death I’d caused. Inside, I was shouting at myself to stop acting like a fool. I had no problems when others did the killing, so why should I have problems when I was the killer? My heart was really messed up.

On to the next chapter