Ahaha.....so that´s it? just put some weird chemical substance and the sword is covered in flames. But when the tar is consumed? then it would be covered in ash.....hmmmm. Those dwemers weren´t such good chemists I reckon.

Rashelle however is getting more and more sweet....I like her interactions with others...such as dwemer ghosts! Keep it coming Blockie.....Me likes very much!

Chapter 11. The Mad God



"Now you must go to the Clockwork City and take care of the mad Sotha Sil. Are you ready?"

I nodded.

She gestured and I was elsewhere.

I was in the dark, ankle-deep in water. My ears were assailed by loud deep rumbling and grinding sounds. What place was this? Certainly not a city, unless I were in the sewers. The flaming sword in my hand did not provide as much light as one would have expected.

I dropped Trueflame into the water. Without a means to sheath it or carry it in my pack safely, the blade was more a liability than an asset. I had no further use for it now that I was here.

Though in water, Trueflame still burned.

I waited while my eyes adjusted to the darkness.

I was in a metal room, partially flooded with murky water. Behind me was a large round doorway to a short stretch of passage that was terminated by a cave-in, sealed tightly with boulders. A lantern hung from this doorway, casting a dim blue light. The opposite wall of the room contained a similar doorway, with a round door in it. From this second doorway a second blue lantern hung. The door itself had a large metal beam that connected it to the ceiling. The beam was composed of two segments, resembling a giant metal elbow. There were two columns between me and this door.

There were spinning gears placed here and there in the walls of the room with no apparent rhyme or reason.

Moss or fungus of some kind hung from the ceiling in long strips.

If this was the clockwork city, something had gone terribly wrong.

I walked through the water to the door. Did I mention that I hate water? I was not liking this place.

The metal door would not open. There was no handle or knob or other obvious way to open it. Pushing on it had no effect.

"Oh great, some stupid Dwemer puzzle thing."

I sighed and explored the room. The gears were large and heavy-looking. I would most likely hurt myself trying to interfere with them. I tried to find a switch or something by the door but there were none.

Eventually I noticed a box mounted to one of the columns with a handle on it. I pulled on the handle but it would not budge. I pushed with similar results. I twisted the handle. It spun in my hand, nicking one of my fingers.

"Fetcher!" I said before sucking the cut on my finger.

With a metallic creaking and cranking, the far door ponderously moved out from the wall, in my direction. Then the metal arm slowly folded, raising the door up and away while rotating it from the vertical.

I slowly approached the doorway. A swooshing sound ahead made me wary. I stepped through the doorway. Through the humid darkness something flickered every few seconds. I took another step. My vision was blocked for an instant. I felt a breeze. This happened again. The flickering was something moving in front of me, appearing and disappearing with a machinelike regularity.

I blinked the next time it happened and saw that it was two giant metal cutters, resembling axes wielded by a giants. One swung left to right while one swung right to left, always at the same time. If I took another step I would be cut to pieces.

I took a few steps back. This mechanical gauntlet could not be the clockwork city, could it? Had Almalexia sent me to the wrong place?

I looked back. Boulders. I looked forward. Choppers. Nothing but to go forward.

I had a feel for the rhythm of the thing now. After another chop I darted ahead as fast as I could in water.

The choppers swung behind me: I was through.

I was in a corridor now. I saw another handle box on the wall and I twisted it. This time I pulled my hand away in time. The door that I had opened a moment ago swung ponderously closed. Good. One thing I have learned from dungeon-crawling is that you always close the doors behind you: things might follow you otherwise.

The water-stained metal corridor turned to the right and then ramped up. Now I was out of the water: good. Sheets of fungus hung from the ceiling here and there. Every so often I passed a blue lantern or a rotating gear stuck in the wall.

The corridor turned to the left. I continued along it.

It ramped down. Back into the water; feh.

The corridor split. Ahead of me was a door. To my left the corridor opened up into a room.

Finding another box, I opened the door in front of me and saw another dead end: a corridor blocked off by a rock fall. There was a dead half-machine creature of the thinner type here. It was identical to those at the Plaza: this indicated that I was actually in the clockwork city of Sotha Sil. I closed the door to the dead end and then entered the room. There were pillars, gears, water, hanging fungus, two more doors ... and nothing else.

The first door I chose led to a small side room. Nothing of interest was there. I opened the second door and went through.

The corridor went on. It turned to the left. I saw a live creature. It ran toward me and attacked. I killed the beast. From the corpse I fetched another fortify speed potion, just as I had from the ones in the Plaza. What were they intended for?

This continued for hours: water-logged corridors with half-machine creatures of both kinds, the blue lights, the corridors with the choppers.

It made no sense. It was madness. Where was the city? Where were the people? The shops? The Guilds? The taverns?

At some point I reached halls that were were not water-logged. They had a different architectural style and seemed to be made of copper. The blue lanterns were gone, to be replaced by devices in the ceiling that emitted showers of bright sparks. Had this region been built later? or earlier?

At regular intervals along the walls were altars. At least they looked like altars but they didn't seem to do anything. There were no enchantments on them, no powers. Between the altars, the walls had a sort of ledge: one could walk from altar to alter without touching the floor if one had a desire to.

Some sort of grease or oil seemed to coat every surface: to lubricate all of those gears I guess. It seemed to be in the air. It gradually seemed to get all over me. I would need a bath if I ever got out of here.

And still the rumbling and grinding was all around me, even louder than before. I was inside a dark musty machine, broken yet still running. My head ached. These halls of delirium were making me crazy.

Half-machine creatures continued to attack me. I fought them two or three at a time and pressed on. I collected the potions.

One stretch of corridor had mechanical spikes pointing up from the floor, oscillating up and down. The floor was reddish brown here and I saw bones between the spikes: others must have tried to get though. I hopped on an altar and then walked along the ledge, bypassing the spikes.

Finally a break in the monotony: I found myself in a large domed room. In the center rotated a large pillar. The domed ceiling was dotted with many large rapidly whirling gears. I fought through the creatures. There were two doors. One lead to a large and complicated dead end. I went back to the dome. The other door was the one I wanted. I entered.

More copper corridors, more spark emitters, more creatures, no sense, no rhyme, no reason.

I would get through. I would find Sotha Sil. He would explain this. It would all make sense. He would help me sort out Almalexia. Somehow we would make things right.

Another round room, more like a big squat cylinder than a dome. Sparks showering down from the ceiling seemed to deepen the darkness more than provide light. I fought off the creatures there. There were bones scattered all over the floor, picked clean. They were not animal bones. What the oblivion was going on?

The only other door in this room was up high on walkway that ran along the wall. A ramp led up to this walkway but I did not take it right away. From the center of ceiling hung a large pole that extended horizontally to the walkway. This pole spun around the room at a rapid rate. The end of the pole was covered with wicked-looking blades. They gleamed in the spark-light and spun rapidly. Anything on that walkway would be shredded.

Crap.

I watched the pole spin around and around. I got a feel for the timing. I sighed. I knew what I had to do but it was going to be close.

Blessing my pack-rat impulse to grab the potions from every creature I had slain, I slammed down twelve or so of the fortify speed potions and I was off.

Now that I was running along the platform I could see that it was brown with dried blood. Countless adventurers had died here.

I blew it: the pole almost hit me. I saved myself by jumping off the platform. I did not have time to cast a spell but I managed to land feet first, so I broke both my legs instead of breaking my neck. When I came to, I took healing potions. The sound of the potions healing and setting the bones echoed even over the ever-present rumbling and grinding.

I walked partially up the ramp. I sucked fortify speed potions as rapidly as I could until the rotating arm passed me then I darted out again.

I reached the door. It was set back from the wall a little bit, enough that I could stay there and not be touched by the arm.

I leaned against the door for a time, trembling with reaction. That had been way too close.

After a time I spelled the door I was leaning on with a Lock spell and, despite the noise, I fell asleep. Nothing would approach me from within the room and nothing would get through the door.



Sotha Sil offered me more tea. I declined for now. We were seated in a balcony that overlooked a large plaza in the clockwork city. It was morning and the sunlight glinted of the gears on the buildings, off the metal roadways, and off the domestic animunculi. People rushed around busily, trading their wares.

She paused before continuing; "I'm glad we pulled you out of the sewers. That section is scheduled for demolition. I have no idea why Almalexia sent you there."

I studied her again. I could have sworn that I had read that Sotha Sil was a man but here she was in front of me; an Altmer female. She could have been the twin sister of Big Helande over in Sadrith Mora.

"Rashelle, I think we can sort matters out over in Mournhold. For starters I can send some machinery over to correct your weather problem."

I nodded. I was glad that I had made it though and was finally talking to Sotha Sil. It had all been worth it. It had also been a relief to wash all of that grease off.

"I think we need to go together and speak with Almalexia. I've known her for a thousand years and I'm sure I can convince her the error of her ways."

"What if she does not?"

"We three members of the Tribunal have drastically reduced powers since you destroyed the Heart. In terms of magic, we are very weak. However, unlike Almalexia and Vivec, I did not rely on my magical powers so much. This loss of power does not affect me at all. We'll bring some mechs to back us up."

I nodded. Earlier this morning she had shown me the mechs. They were autonomous automata used for defense and law enforcement. They were rather impressive.

"Rashelle, don't worry," she said as she gave my hand a squeeze, a human gesture I did not expect from a former goddess and continued: "The worst is over. We'll fix matters right."

I smiled. I was so happy.

The sun blinked out. There was a roaring sound. Ashes rained from the air. What the oblivion?

Sotha Sil turned into a skeleton. The skeleton shouted: "She killed me, Rashelle! She killed me with a sword!"

I ran from the balcony, into the building. It was now dark and there was a rumbling and grinding sound.

"She killed me, Rashelle! You're next!"



I woke up. It had been a dream: I had not found Sotha Sil. I was still in that room that had almost killed me. The air was still greasy. The rumbling and grinding continued. Just then the arm with the blades whirled by.

I was not sure I felt any more rested.

Essentially, I was still inside a large dark metal box, with only the half-machine creatures as company. Nothing but sparks and oil and madness.

Despite all of this, I still had faith that Sotha Sil was not mad. Almalexia had to be mistaken in that. Some accident had happened here and maybe he was trapped in a room, unable to control his creations. I would find him and rescue him. He'd do something with a lever or some gears and make it all right again. We'd then go and sort out Almalexia together: maybe even go get Vivec to assist as well.

I removed the Lock spell and went though the door.

In the next room, I was blind. Nothing but an even mass of grey: it was some sort of magical fog, somehow constrained to just that room. I fought things blindly. From the sound, and from touching the corpses afterwards, I identified them as two more of the usual creatures.

It took me a long time to get though this room. I had to do everything blindly, by touch and sound alone, fighting those half-machine creatures the whole time. A large machine in the center spat forth a new creature every minute. There was no obvious door out. Eventually I figured out that I had to enter the machine and I could only do it for a short window of opportunity; when it spat out a new creature.

I darted in, pushing past and chopping the creature. Something gashed me, a gear or who knows what, some piece of machinery. Then another creature was there. I killed it and took another potion. Woops: wrong one. Damnit: I couldn't see to identify my potions. I was faint as I took another potion: that one was a healing potion.

By sheer dumb luck and persistence I triggered the door and was through and into the next room. I could see again! I was in a copper corridor again.

I killed three more creatures. The rumbling and grinding and sparks continued. The sounds seemed to almost form voices. Sparks showered from the ceiling. The smell of oil was in the air.

After a time I entered another dome. Most of the room was simply a huge vat of oil, heated. I was on a walkway that only went part-way around the room. It did not reach the other side. This was a pity, as the other side was where the other door was located.

I dispatched the creatures there and then found a lever. The lever screeched as I pulled it. A platform grew out from across the room and extended itself all the way across.

I walked across. The fumes from the heated oil were making me nauseas.

More corridors. More creatures of both types. More sparks. More oil. The ever-present rumbling and grinding continued. None of my potions would make the headache go away.

After a time I began to make out words from the voices formed by the rumbling and grinding:

"She killed me Rashelle, she killed me with a sword."

It was what Sotha had said in my dream and now the rumbling and grinding voices were repeating it over and over.

I tried to focus, I tried to impose a state of serenity upon myself but I could not. I feared I was beginning to go mad. I looked up at a shower of sparks. They looked like fireflies.

How long this continued I am not sure: hours, days? I walked in a waking nightmare that went on and on. For a time I forgot why I was even doing this. I only knew that I could not go back.

"She killed me Rashelle, she killed me with a sword."

I was tired. My head hurt. My water had run out and I was thirsty. I was hearing words in the rumbling grinding voices. I knew I had gone mad but I pressed on: what else could I do?

At some point I reached a domed room that had nothing in it ... aside from two large statues by the far door. One looked broken. I had almost reached the door when instinct made me dart to one side. The unbroken statue swung at me, narrowly missing me.

It wasn't a statue. I turned and ran.

With a terrible racket, even louder than ambient noise of that place, it pursued me. This thing was triple the size of any Dwemer steam centurion I had ever faced, yet just as fast.

I spun around and cast a paralyze spell. Much to my relief, it worked. I went to work with Chrysamere, chopping at the thing, knocking some pieces off but mostly just making little dents.

The spell wore off and I darted away.

I hit it with a frost spell, encasing it in ice. I knew that would not hold it for long so I darted for the door ... made it.

I entered the next chamber and closed the door behind me.

I cast a Lock spell on the door, even though I knew the that thing was too big to fit. I expected it to pound on the door but oddly enough it did not. Perhaps when I had left the room it no longer considered me a threat.

I was in another dome. Aside from the ever-present rumbling and grinding voices, the room was silent. Nothing was here. Nothing alive that is.

Two posts rose up and bent towards each other, forming a sort of large misshapen arch. Between them hung a ghastly remnant of something that had once been a man. Where the arms should have been were masses of metal ropes that were attached to the arch. It was these that supported it. It looked liked some madman had wanted to fuse himself into this demented metal "city". Dead eyes stared at the ceiling, with a look of horror in them. It was wearing armor, including a strange open helm. A gash in its chest indicated that it had been stabbed with a sword or something right through the armor. There was dried blood on the floor. The lack of evidence of decay indicated that it has been killed recently. It had not died from trying to fuse itself into the metal things.

Next to the body was a tilted metal table with little levers and switches on it. They reminded me of the ones in the Dwemer weather machine, save that they were much smaller and there were more of them.

Where was Sotha Sil? Why had be built this mad maze? Where was the city? Where were the people? Would he explain this all to me? I felt like the world had gone mad.

I sighed and walked around past the arch, readying myself to go through the next door. When would it end?

There was no next door.

This was the end.

Where was Sotha Sil?

Then a realization hit me: that ruined thing was Sotha Sil.

I knew then that I was never going to talk to him. This mad clockwork "city" was never going to be explained to me. I was not going to get his advice nor his help on Almalexia.

For days I had been doing unpleasant things for Almalexia, things I was not sure I felt right doing. When I had been teleported to the clockwork city, I had been hoping that Sotha Sil would set things to rights.

That was not going to happen.

"Damnit!"

I tried to cast Recall. As expected, it did not work. I tried both Intervention spells. I didn't expect them to work either and they didn't. I was alone in a series of metal rooms with no way out.

I sat down by one of the posts.

"Azura ... I need a little help here. I have not called on you ever but I know you watch me. I've screwed things up. It's all gone wrong. I don't know what to do."

I sighed, then continued: "I can't go on."

I am not the religious type. It's just that when one *meets* a god, when one's life is permanently altered (fortunately, to my benefit) by a god one must accept the realities of the situation. I called on Azura because I had met her. She was real. she knew me and I knew her.

The continued rumbling and grinding was the only reply: "she killed me, Rashelle. She killed me with a sword."

I was too weary to do anything else. Too fed up to think. For a time I sat and stared at the door I had come through. My mind was empty of thought. I just did not care any more. I was done.

After some hours a cloud of light appeared by the door. Was it Azura? Had my prayer been answered?

No: the cloud dissipated, revealing Almalexia. She was wearing an odd-looking helm that covered her face. In her hands was a flaming sword. Unlike Trueflame, this one had a blue fire.

"So you live" she said to me in a tone of disappointment.

"You're welcome," I snapped back.

"You didn't need to send me." I continued. "Sotha Sil was already dead."

"Nerevarine, here it ends. This clockwork city was to be your death."

Say what?

She continued; "You were to be my greatest martyr; the heroic Nerevarine, sacrificing all to protect Morrowind from the mad Sotha Sil ... but you lived ... you lived."

Realization began to hit me ... like a hammer.

"Fear not, I will tell the tale myself when this is done. I will tell my people how with your dying breath you proclaimed your devotion to me, the one true God. Your death will end this prophecy and unite my people again under god, one faith, one rule by my divine law. The puppet king will bow down to my will. Those who do not yield will be destroyed."

She was insane. And I had been a fool. It was all becoming clear now.

"The Mazed Band has allowed me to travel to this place. Here I slew Sotha Sil. Here I summoned the fabricants to attack Mournhold. I will be the savior of my people. I alone will be their salvation."

Her words hit me like blows. She called the creatures "fabricants": she knew what they were called. She was behind the attack on the Plaza. I reeled. My world had gone mad.

"None my stand in my way. Not you, and certainly not Vivec. He is a poet, a fool. I will deal with him when I have finished with you. And Sotha Sil ... he always thought himself our better, shunning us, locking himself in his hole. He spoke not a word as he died, not a whisper. Even in death he mocked me with his silence ... but I think you will scream, mortal, for now you face the one true God."

She began to cast spells to drain my attributes. I felt myself weakening and slowing as I stood up. Some of the spells were absorbed by my birth-sign and they fueled my casting of restoration spells. My attributes were returned as fast as she drained them. She hit me with a fireball. I quaffed a potion and cast a fireball back.

Enough. My world had gone mad. I was trapped in a mad city with a mad god. I drew my sword and gave in to the madness.

She blocked my first swing but with a speed born of rage I somehow swung the mass of my claymore as if it were a short blade. Chrysamere bit into her flesh.

She howled but I was elsewhere, having darted to the side. Chrysamere struck her helm.

She yelled and came at me with that flaming sword.

Said sword flew across the room. I had just disarmed her. I followed this with a chop intended to decapitate her. It clanged off of her helm instead.

She shrieked and ran away from me, towards where her sword had landed.

I hit her with a frost-ball. It Reflected. At least the cold felt good.

I shook icicles off and ran towards her but she had her sword in her hands already. I used my sword to deflect her thrust and then kicked her in the stomach. I'd done it just right: the wind was knocked out of her. She waved her sword feebly and collapsed to her knees.

I kicked again: with a crunch of breaking finger-bones her sword flew across the room again.

I swung down and Chrysamere connected with her helm. I swung again. Her helm shattered: the pieces scattered across the floor.

Now I would finish this. I leaned forward and hissed; "You s'wit!"

She leaped up and attacked me, completely taking me by surprise. Stupid, Rashelle: even with the Heart destroyed she had some regenerative powers.

She knocked me down to the ground and tried to take Chrysamere: her hand had regenerated already and she now tugged with both hands. I tried to elbow her without letting go of the sword. She snarled and bit me on the arm.

Chrysamere flew away. She tried to punch me in the stomach again and again. Had she forgotten I was wearing an ebony cuirass?

She hit me with a fireball. My birth-sign absorbed it.

I backhanded her and she came right back at me before I could get up. I was wearing armor but she had that godlike regeneration ability. She tried to strangle me. She was bigger than me but I was stronger: I chopped sideways with my hands on her forearms and my neck was released. I made a fist and smashed her in the face. I could hear the crunch as her nose broke.

She viciously yanked on my pony tail. It hurt.

She wanted to fight dirty? I would return the favor. I spat in her face.

She instinctively pulled back her head and my elbow connected with her jaw. She went limp for an instant, which was enough time for my booted foot to impact with her rib cage. She went flying.

I was up and running. I reached her, shouted "You s'wit" and kicked.

"You s'wit!" I shouted as I kicked her again.

I kicked her again while shouting "you s'wit" again. Three times. Four. I don't know exactly when she died but I kept kicking. I was hysterically screaming "you s'wit" over and over again while kicking the corpse.

After a time, the rage faded and measure of partial sanity returned to me. Focus, Rashelle. I stopped. A wave of pain, unfelt during the fight, washed over me. I took a healing potion.

I looked at the body, its original identity almost unrecognizable, and a wave of sickness washed over me. The contents of my stomach splashed on the greasy metal floor. I had seen much death and dealt a lot of it myself, but I had never done anything like this before.

With distaste, I wearily searched through the body. No money, no keys; just those few strange pieces of armor, a loincloth, and the Mazed Band. I took only the ring.

After rubbing my hands clean as best I could, I wiped the Band off and put it on. I invoked it. I felt a tingle of magic and could sense that it could be used to summon one of those fabricants. It could also be used to teleport the wearer to one three locations: Vivec, Mournhold, and my present location in the clockwork city. I thought "Vivec city": maybe Vivec could help.

The ring teleported me, but not to Vivec. I felt a sort of wrenching sensation that I somehow knew was not normal and I was in Almalexia's chamber in the Temple in Mournhold. The five Hands stationed there ignored me.

"No damnit, Vivec!"

Wrench. The world disappeared and then reappeared. I was still in that chamber.

"DAMNIT. STUPID RING".

I took it off and threw it, narrowly missing one of the Hands. That was stupid but it felt good to do.

I cast Recall.

The wrenching this time was painful. I collapsed to the ground in agony. I was still in Mournhold.

"WHAT THE OBLIVION IS GOING ON?" I screamed.

The Hands ignored me. They awaited Almalexia's return. They'd have a very long wait.

I took a healing potion. I stood up and, after retrieving the Mazed Band, I stepped out of the room, into the temple reception area.

As I walked past Granny Varis, tracking the grease from Sotha Sil's "city" and the blood from Almalexia on the floor, she reminded me that she kept this temple "as clean as Almalexia's conscience."

I stopped, glared at her, and in a quiet voice said, "No, it's far cleaner."

She scurried away.

I trudged towards the exit.

Outside, I saw that the ash storms still continued. How long had I been away? I was so tired.

Azura was there. She had chosen to manifest as an older-looking Dunmer woman clad in a full-length gown. I walked to her and fell to my knees.

I looked up at her.

There was sadness in her eyes. Wordlessly, she put a hand on my forehead. I felt some of my weariness slip away. I felt more sane, more myself. My headache was gone.

"Thank you," I said.

"You have done well, mortal. The death of Almalexia is a boon for all of Morrowind, though it may take time for this to be understood. She would have betrayed the Dunmer as surely as she betrayed all she loved. This was her curse, and her undoing."

"Because of my stupidity, Sotha Sil is dead. She killed him ... with a sword."

Maybe the voices had not been madness after all, but some last post-mortem communique from Sotha Sil that had somehow been imbued into his machinery.

"Weep not for Sotha Sil. He shed his mortality long ago. I am certain his death was no small relief to him, These 'gods' were burdened with a power no mortal was meant to possess."

"So now what?"

Suddenly the ash storms were gone. It was clear and sunny.

"Your work in Morrowind is not finished, Nerevarine. Vivec still lives, but I believe his time goes short. Protect my people, defend these lands. The skies of Mournhold are clear once again. Let these people suffer no longer. Now go mortal, embrace your destiny and go with my blessing."

She faded away. I stood up. The sun was shining on the ash-covered dead trees. The sky was a cheerful blue but my mood was grey like the ash covering the ground. I trudged though the ashes towards the Palace. I would tell King Helseth what had happened: no one else would want to hear it.

What a wonderful climax! It's very realistic how Rashelle reacted afterwards. Excellent work in building tension and so forth. I'm interested in seeing how you finish off this story.

In one word, Fantastic! I especially loved the dream with Sotha Sil. That one was neat and unexpected.

So, what's she going to do next? And when will you let the next story take place, between this one and Lokken, or after Lokken? I'll be waiting.


And did I mention that you complete your stories at an incredible pace? I'm impressed.

I´m speechless! What a showdown....purely amazing...I have to second both Jackie and Mallie here....

Now I´m curious to learn more about the continuation....Hmm there will be one, right?

Chapter 12. Forgiven



"Very interesting," said Helseth.

He, Barenziah and myself were in Barenziah's chambers. I had just related the entire story to the two of them. From the tone of his voice I could tell that he believed me. Good.

"Rashelle, you were right in insisting that this discussion be private. The Dunmer do not give up on their beliefs so easily. It will probably be centuries before they accept that Almalexia is no more. It is best that you speak to no one else about this."

I nodded. This agreed with both my first impulse and with my later reasoning.

After leaving the Palace I tried the Mazed band again. "Vivec City," I thought. I appeared in front of the Temple in Vivec. I tested it again, and it sent me to Sotha Sil. I then had the ring take me to Mournhold. I was teleported to Almalexia's chamber. The five Hands ignored me. The Mazed Band worked fine. Presumably Azura had interfered with the teleportation magic because she wanted to see me in Mournhold.

It began to rain as I walked from the Temple towards Godsreach. This was a good thing: it would wash the accumulated ashes away. the city was beginning to cleanse itself.

After catching up on my sleep at the Winged Guar, I got down to business. I did some investigating: the final count of deaths from the ash storms was 38. I could not bring back the dead but I could, and did, donate significant sums to their families as an anonymous weregild.

Only after I had completed that did I feel that I could return to Vvardenfell.



I awoke from a fitful sleep. I was in my bed in my house in Balmora. Something was in my room with me. I sat up, Chrysamere in my hands already. A ghostly light revealed ... a ghost.

"Salas!"

"Hello Rashelle. I want you to know that I am sorry for how I acted. I was mad, quite insane."

"Oh Salas, I wanted to save you; really I did!"

"I know, Rashelle, but you could not have: there is no potion to cure madness. I may have been safe from Almalexia, but I most likely would have ended up wandering the countryside of Vvardenfell randomly killing people. It is best this way."

I nodded.

"Rashelle?"

"Yes?"

"I have spoken to ... the others, the ones who died in the ash storms. You are forgiven. Continue to go out there and do good."

He faded away.

I returned to bed. I slept better than I had in a long time.

Ah, that was certainly a charming ending. It's good to hear that Rashelle has been forgiven. I bet it certainly helps to ease her conscience.

Hmmm... I wonder what's next for Rashelle? As Azura stated, the people of Morrowind still need her help.

Thank you all for the kind words.

jack cloudy wrote:

That dream is kind of based on how I imagined Tribunal to me when I first installed it. I was subsequently disappointed .. but I do have to concede that, though grim, the ending Bethesda had was powerful.

I'm not as fast as you would think. In the beginning of this story when I would get stuck on something, I'd skip ahead and write a future bit. After a while, the future bits accumulated. This is why the chapters were getting released rapidly near the end.

Actually, this story was very unusual in that I wrote chapter Eleven FIRST, before anything else. It was really rough to write this story but what kept me going was that I wanted to "publish" that chapter.

What also slowed me down were the dungeon crawls. The most tedious things to write are dungeon crawls and fights! Fun to play, fun to read, but a bear to write! I've discovered that the easiest thing for me to write is dialog. I could write a story of people just talking. How weird is that?

As for what is next, I'm taking a break for a day or so before even thinking about what to do next ... although ... I played Lokken again the other day and Rashelle & I forget how much we missed the place and the people. Emma put in a surprising amount of "post-quest" material: this really makes the place seem alive.

With the main Lokken quest done I don't have a plot (although there are enough loose ends to start a story going). I've gotten better at this writing stuff ... but I just can't seem to think of plots. So far I've only written variations of existing quests/storylines. I'd really like to write more Lokken stuff. I want to go there.

Definitely I want to write more Rashelle stuff. It would probably be good for me to diversify and write about other people but she's so interesting, so cool! I swear she writes herself and surprises me sometimes!

minque wrote:

In a universe where magic exists and the moons are actually the corpses of dead gods (if I read the Lore correctly), the whole Conservation Of Energy/Matter thing just might not apply.


Oh, and to all: I am open to ideas/suggestions for the next story.

Well if you like writing the dialogue all the time, why not write a play? Those basically consist entirely of dialogue.

For me, the hardest part of writing is the stuff that leads up to action. Just because I'm so eager just to get right into the action but I know I need to pace myself and build it up suffciently. I actually like writing fight scenes, though I agree with you on the dungeon crawling part (that's probably why my story doesn't truly feature that aspect of the game). Dialogue is definitely fun too when you're writng bad guys or smart mouthed heroes. Other dialogue sometimes seems a bit too tedious, but I guess to each it's own.

I look forward to whatever you decide to write next.

I guess I'm like Mallet there. My stories are overflowing with action. My characters must hate me for never giving them a rest unless it's midnight and even then I have the habit of setting assassins loose.

On the other hand, I like dungeon crawls. They're tedious to write, sure but I find the idea of a trapped maze utterly irresistable. You bet I'm going to add a few good dungeon crawls in Corrupted Heart.

And as for getting ideas for stories, I admit that ripping the plot straight out of the game is both easy and works well. Coming up with a good plot from scratch is hard. That said, I suggest you pursue some interesting rumour you heard, or some odd situation that caught your attention. Explore those small things which seemed unimportant while playing. Turn an NPC into a fully fledged character. Or make a new character who lives around the same time as your main one and explore his/her's actions.

And some silly plot I just came up with. What if Rashelle has to deal with a Nerevarine fanclub?

Blockie my dear...you have a wonderful charachter....develop her! Let her experience other things than fighting and killing, let her fall in love let her be betrayed, abused....and honored! Oh there are so many things you can do with Rashelle! Let us learn about her background....who is she really? Where does she come from? Who are her parents? siblings?

Oh jeez...let her meet other charachters from the fan-fics here, like Sethyas, Trey, Serene, you name them!

I´m convinced you´ll come up with another wonderful story about our sweetheart Rashelle!