Reading this update put a smile across my face for almost the entire time. Victory is such a happy thing to see. Though what Serene said to Sethyas has me a little worried. Sounds a bit like foreshadowing to me. That means Sethyas' adventures aren't completely done yet.

Hopefully the wedding will happen before anything bad happens. Hopefully.

Telepathy... crazy. Rather foreboding. But another excellent entry here.

Ahhhh......now this was..if not entirely unexpected, a very unusual approach, but oh so truthworthy.....And by Nirn....Serene really turned out to be a "wise woman" huh? Now we will have the pleasure of following Seth for better and for worse....in a dual sense!

I´m so looking forward to read about the wedding! It will be a sheer joy....

I wonder though.....Ilmeni´s relatives.....those Dren-guys, will they really approve of her marrying a Redoran? But surely Seth has covered that possibility..

So let´s rejoice with the party folks and hope they get a looooong wonderful night!

The duke doesn't mind. If I remember right, he already approved before Sethyas had even gotten into the cave of the Incarnate. And Orvas? He doesn't have anything to say now. Dagoth Ur is gone, Sethyas is the hero of Vvardenfell and I doubt that any of his Camonna Tong thugs is willing to challenge someone who killed a god. Killing immortal beings always gives you a fearsome reputation.

Nice update by the way. I don't think I can say anything that hasn't been said before.

Hmmm people change their minds you know! And I wouldn´t trust a Hlaalu-so-called-noble

The duke has had plenty of time to change his mind, I don't think he would suddenly do that now. As for our Hlaalu noble? Well, I suppose that the Morag Tong would be honourbound to attempt any writ they might receive. Remember that Rayne was sent to assassinate him despite his rank as exhalted master? Joining Redoran made him a legal target in the House wars.

If I was Orvas, I would go for the Dark Brotherhood. Not as likely to talk as the Morag Tong and with a good reputation of getting the job done. (In game lore. In the fanfics and the actual game, most DB assassins seem like utter amateurs, with the exception of Kayla's gang. I don't have Tribunal but I would be so not surprised if the DB assassins yell at you before attacking. A real assassin doesn't shout and wake up his target!)


Say, is the main site's fanfic section still being updated? I'd say that this story would be a good addition. (so would Mallet's Bloodlust by the way, once he finishes.)

Ok...you may be right, I just pondered about the future cross-marriage between Hlaalu and Redoran....

About the main site...well since Alexander may have short of time there haven´t been so extremly many updates lately..But rest assure I do have both this story and maybe some other in mind for the honor of being published on the main site!

Ya, if I remember correctly, many people were suggesting Taillus' story about Taillus being added to the main site. Hehehehe! My memory is good!

This one is a strong contender to join the ranks among the main site fics as well in my opinion. I also thank Jack for suggesting mine as well, of course!

At the time of this writing, I was ready to settle down and focus all of my energy into Ilmeni, Bal Isra, and the Morag Tong. However, first thing was first, and I had a marriage to focus upon, and after weeks of discussion, arguing, and making up with Ilmeni, we decided to hold the wedding in Vivec, on the very stairs leading up to Vivecs palace. This done with his blessing. I appreciated the recognition, as did others too apparently, as any Dunmer male with a Black Hand Tattoo claiming lineage from Mephala, claimed to be the Nerevarine, and since the tatoo was neither common, nor rare, it did give me a certain air of anonymity that I could hide myself into. For my whole life, I have lived in Shadows. Secrets and blood have been, and continue to be my trade. In this new Era, things were no different for me.

Life continued much as it had before, the slave trade which was deeply opposed by Ilmeni and myself, continued. Smugglers smuggled in the Bitter Coast, children played with Guars in the Ashlands, and I took a brief vacation from my 'ordinary' life as an Assassin to claim my vows to one and only. Ilmeni. As I had mentioned, Vivec gave his blessing, and since I had 'saved' Morrowind, the Temple had officialy bestowed me as the 'Protector of Morrowind'. The title was largely ceremonial, as I was better known by a different one. "The Nerevarine". He also honored my request to act as the Priest. Now, I know that there is a great deal of bad blood between Vivec and I, but I had just quenched a Three Thousand year old grudge with Voryn Dagoth, this was time to allow healing, and let go of the past, and look forward to the future. This would have been the start of a new beggining for 'Nerevar' and Vivec, and besides, he, by his own instruction, was to no longer be worshipped as a God, but rather as a Saint and Hero of the Temple, in that regard, he was more of a Chief Preist now then a deity. Who better to bless our union? I certainly felt no need to go around telling everyone that the Tribunal's days were numbered, I was content to let the now-mere-mortal to live out the rest of his days as he saw fit.

I am no man to judge crimes on the scale of Vivec's, and having been so close to the source of power, I felt the temptation that he certainly must have given into, and found it doubly hard to hold anything further against him. I made trips once a week to the Palace to speak with him, of things that were, things that are, and things that may be. I found him to be every bit the poet the legends made him out to be, and as he gradually lost his divinity, he seemed to enjoy our conversations more and more. Dare I say, over time we became friends even. Perhaps hard to beleive. Perhaps the Nerevar in me was finally content and asleep as he was most of my life. Or perhaps Nerevar was never betrayed, and the legends and stories are merely that. Legends and Stories. But that is another matter, and I am happy for once in my life, the loss and pain up until now have been great, sacrifice has been demanded of me at all turns, as well as from others. But Victory comes at a cost, and we have all paid it.

Few families from Houses Redoran and Hlaalu supported our union, with a few deeply opposed, with a large majority that did not care, for Hlaalu it did not seem to rub too many the wrong way, as it did not cost them money. For Redoran, they were hesistant to allow a Hlaalu amongst their ranks, but Sarethi, and his love, the Archmaster, Serene Catraso, both spoke for her, and sponsered her. As by tradition, the male's house became the House for both Husband and Wife, though Duke Dren did make a strange offer to allow me to enter Hlaalu as an Honorary member for all that I had done, possibly making me the first Houseman to join two houses. But, I refused, realizing that it was too much of a conflict of interest, and I had made enough history to last me my entire Corprus-lengthened life.

The planning lasted for weeks, much of the decorations and expense being left to the Temple, and Ordinators blocked off access to the High Fane for three days prior, although the event was largely somewhat a public spectacle, with observers crowding the Saint Delyn and Olms Cantons for days prior to the event. And then my big day came. Athyn Sarethi acting as my best man, we both wore tradtional Red Silk Redoran Shirts, standing to the one side of the steps, with a growing contingency of Redoran Blood Guards standing at attention with ebony spears, on the Brides side, stood Duke Dren, in polished ebony armor, looking at me with a measure of pride and nervousness, realizing that he was finally marrying off his daughter. He gazed down at the small gathering of Hlaalu Nobles and Servants and Guards on his side, with Master Aryon, and the Ashlanders Sul- Matuul and Ashkhan Kaushad with his recent bride in the guests seating area, essentially makeshift chairs in the various waterfall steppes that made the base of the palace. Standing just below him was Rayne Alas, looking rather beatiful in her Bridesmaid gown, with Kreshweed flowers in her formal hair. I snickered as I realized that she hardly looked like an Assassin.

A gasp of wonderment overtook the crowd, as the gaze fell to the west. In the waters that seperated Ebonheart from Vivec, a Gondola with torches decorating it, with wreaths and ropes of flowers decorating it, slowly glided across the waters, and kneeling at the stern, in an exquisite yellow and red wedding dress, Ilmeni smiled from ear to ear, standing impressively behind her in a revealing white gown, with her long brown hair flowing down on one side elegantly, the peaceful yet confident gaze of the Archmaster of Redoran, Serene, accompanied Ilmeni as a the Maid of Honor. It was a mixture of Imperial and Dunmeri traditions taking place, but one that was fitting.

The gondola finally reached the Temple gondolier port, and my bride and Serene disembarked and walked slowly up the ramp, and made their way to the Palace of Vivec. Fanfare began to play in traditional Dunmeri music, and Vivec exited his palace, standing directly outside his door, he had not changed his attire, and he had the same calm and objective look he always had. But when his eyes fell upon me, he gave the slightest of smiles.

Ilmeni reached me, and we took each others hand, and both looked upwards to Vivec.

"To those who seek love and the blessings of it, climb the stairs before you. Come to me if your hearts are true, and your intentions clear. Arise from the mundane, and ascend to the Sacred." he called out in a strong voice, the divinity largely faded from it.

And we were exaclty Seven Steps below him, and we recited the Seven Virtues of the Temple with each step, Athyn and Serene one step below us. Vedam Dren and Rayne Alas one step below them, Varvur Sarethi, and Eno Hlaalu the Step below them. Sul-Matuul and Kaushad the step below that.

Vivec levitated ever so slightly above the two of us, and overlooked the crowd.

"It is rare, and a joyous occasion, that two Mer may come together, and lay claim to the others Heart. But this is one of those days, in the light of the Sun, that is no longer blocked by the Shadow of Red Mountain! Hail Savior! Hail Redoran! Hail Dunmer! The Blessings of the Tribunal, I bestow upon the two before me now! May your Childrens Children know of this day as the greatest acheivement in your life! For you have overcome yourselves and the shadows within and without, and come to lay your claims too happiness."

His gaze fell to me.

"And now, in the prescence of House, Kin, and Friend, and the Blessed Temple. Do you swear your love and fealty to Ilmeni Dren, Sethyas Velas? To forswear all others, in blight and in light, in poorness and plenty, til death release you?"

"I do."

"And, do you, in the prescence of House, Kin, and Friend, and the Blessed Temple. Do you swear your love and fealty to Sethyas Velas, Ilmeni Dren? To fowswear all others, in blight and in light, in poorness and plenty, til death release you?"

"I do."

"Then in the Name of Almsivi, I name you, Lord Redoran Sethyas Velas, and Lady Redoran Ilmeni Velas, Husband and Wife. As one for the rest of tides of Eternity, let no one and nothing stand before or in between you. You may kiss your Bride." Vivecs voice lowered in the last sentence to one of pride, the final forgiveness between the two of us finally realized.

And I took Ilmeni in my arms, and kissed her deeply, the final moment between my past and future sealed with our embrace. Serene's face became emotional, shedding a tear, Athyn taking her in his arms, and a cheer erupting througout the crowds, and in the Cantons far off. I was now married.

The festivities and rejoicement continued for hours afterward, falling into the late hours of the evening, and I enjoyed a Brandy with Athyn and Serene in a Table off to a corner of the High Fane.

"Haha! Now you get to experience the fullness and the joy of Marriage, my boy!....run while you can!" Athyn laughed, to which Serene poked him, getting a playful look on her face.

"Don't listen to him! You two will be very happy, isn't that right, dear?!" Serene responded.

"I am sure of it. For I have learned that Destiny is made, as well as forseen. And I intend to make as much of my own destiny from hereon out." I responded. As though fate were returning my comment, a roar grew from the bridges that were guarded by the Ordinators, someone was trying to come in that wasn't invited.

Orvas Dren was accompanied by perhaps two dozen of his Cammona Tong thugs, and with a menacing glare, he made his way straight for our table.

"Don't mind me Velas! I'm just wondering why, the Uncle, wasn't invited to his own Nieces Wedding! Very nice stunt you pulled in the Council Club in Balmora! Do you think I respond well to threats? Did you think I was just going to let everything go, once you won? You seem to keep on defying death wherever you go, lets see how much luck you have left!" He yelled out, motioning for his men to unsheath their weapons.

"I didn't think you were that much of a fool, Dren! Look around you! There are Redoran and Hlaalu Guards here, not to mention Temple Ordinators. And after facing down Dagoth Ur, do you REALLY think that you frighten me? Come, let us finish our business, here and now! Crimelord to Assassin! You have dishonored me, and my bride by showing up here, and this offence I cannot let go!"

"Sethyas, NO! Not here! Not now! This is our Wedding Day, do not shed blood, please, both of you! Uncle! I beg you to lay down your arms, see some reason!" Ilmeni pleaded, holding my arm as I struggled to get up. I had no weapons on me, but I could certainly break a few noses, and cast a few little spells I knew. Athyn DID have a weapon, and unsheathed his steel shortsword, Serene, though a healer, was no stranger too combat, and summoned a bound longsword, as the small army prepared to fight.

"You shut your mouth, you little mother of mine! You are no blood of mine! Not anymore! You sealed your fate the moment you threw your lot in with the likes of him! Your an outlander mongrel as far as I am concerned! Boys! Lets do this!" Orvas whistled and took out his own Ebony Spear, armored in his Orcish Armor.

I took the comment about calling my wife a 'little mother of mine' quite personally, and my anger began to cloud my judgement, and with a leap and speed that Orvas did not expect, I brought my fist into his nose with all the strength I could muster. I would kill him! He and his entire ratpack! They will pay! Or so I thought.

The whistle of a bolt being released from a crossbow met my shoulder, and Serene cast a blistering frost to encase the Tong Archer that shot me, shattering him to peices with a single swipe of her sword. Athyn was more then holding his own against two thugs.

Soon the guards had come to play there own role in keeping the peace, and within minutes they had two prisoners, and twenty dead bodies, I looked around breathing heavily as Serene put her hands over the wound on my shoulder, healing the torn flesh. I realized that two people were missing.

"Where is Dren? Where's Ilmeni?" I shouted getting up from my chair.

I looked around, and grabbed the arm of an Ordinator.

"Sera? Did you capture or kill a Dunmer in Orcish Armor?"

The Ordinator called to his captain, and they both shook their heads after a moment of discussion. Noone matched that description at all. He had likely escaped in the chaos.

I then began running around frantically looking for Ilmeni, tears welling from my eyes as I shouted her name frantically. I looked everywhere except from where I had left her, at our table, and I ran as fast as I could back.

The next image was all I remember seeing before I blacked out, I saw an overturned chair, I saw Serene with a look of horror on her face, kneeling behind the table. She then looked at me with fear in her glance, and she sent her thoughts to me to stay away.

I refused, and she stood up, holding out her hands to keep me away. Her hands were covered in blood. So much blood.

I walked with all my strength against hers, and I saw it. My bride, laying on her back, a bolt sticking from her neck, her mouth in a wide O. Her blood surrounded her head, and her eyes looked at nothing at all, did not move at all.

I think Serene said something to me. I couldn't hear anything anyways, the worlds sounds came through as little more then a buzzing sound. I think I felt a lump rising in my throat, and then felt it enter and exit my mouth, I dont really remember, that was when the blackness swallowed me. I think I felt the floor reach up and hit me in the face. I dont really remember, that was the night my wife died, the same as when I wed her.

Truly a tragedy, but a well orchestrated one at that. Orvas Dren is a slime-ball (that would be putting lightly......) So, shall Sethyas be filled with grief and hunt down his "kin," or will something unexpected happen...... I would have no idea what the latter could be.

Poor Seth, we can all sympathize with his grief. And hopefully he won't do anything he might regret later....... Great story, Blacky!

'Tis. And one that was in working from the start. Remember the dream from Chapter Two? When he was still looking for the Morag Tong?

As for Dren, there is another Character in this forum that would like to See Dren Deader then a doornail also, yes. Another collaboration is coming up..a cookie to whomever can guess who!

Well it's not me then. Simion all ready killed Orvas in my fic If I were to guess I'd say it would be Trey. As I recall, he doesn't like the Commona Tong too much.

As for you recent update, I have to say it got a little emotional for me on this end of the computer. I was definitely NOT expecting that to happen. I must say though, it was brillantly written. You conveyed Sethyas' instant emotions wonderfully.

As for the dream you mentioned, that was in chapter two man! It would be hard to recall one dream after all that's happened in this fic. I'm gonna have to go back and find it though, but for now, I'm off to bed.

I'm certainly looking forward to this collaboration, especially if it's with Trey. Though I'm sure if it's anyone else, it'll be great.

Damn, how could you? This is horrible!

I personally believe that Sethyas is going to pay back Orvas in the most painful way possible. Though I don't know what this most painful way is.

OH NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!! Please! NOOOO.....that was the most beautiful and the most extremely tragical part I´ve read for quite some time! I can´t believe it......it´s just so utterly sad! But what a writer you are Blackie......astonishing! The wedding, so detailled, so wonderfully described, I could very well picture it in my mind, and how nice you let Serene appear...oh i thank you very much for enterpreting her so well, it´s an honor that you care to let her be a part of your tale, I´m so happy...about that! NOT by the tragic death of sweet Ilmeni.....that was just so sad and I have great difficulty of getting over it....

Now the rage arise and I do hope for a really cruel revenge! Rest assure Serene will do just about anything to make Seth feel better , she´ll do whatever it takes...

I read that dream.....creepy really....I think I had somewhat suppressed it.....hmmmm

Having read most of this chapter today, I'd have to say I'm quite overwhelmed by all the things that happened. But most of all, I'm appalled by the audacity of Orvas Dren and wounded by the fate that befell Ilmeni. I wish that I could think she will somehow be okay, because it is such a sad note to end on, but somehow I don't believe it. I'm worried that Sethyas will do something horrible in search of revenge, for this kind of evil can drive even the most righteous to make bad choices. Perhaps this is the moment to take advantage of Serene's abilities to heal both body and mind.

And here we go! This update is darker then most, so please bear with it. And the fine fellow writer, is canis216 with everyones favorite temperamental Argonian Assassin; Always-He-Lingers-In-The-Sun.

http://chorrol.com/forums/index.php?showtopic=3574&st=0

If you havent already, do read up on his fine work, "Killing in the Emperors Name" The scene was written by both of us, so the credit is equal in his fine word-weaving of an update that entails two paths of Assassnic Revenge meeting.........enjoy.


===========================================

I awoke in the Morag Tong Headquarters in Vivec. Under the covers I felt warm and safe, the emptiness of the void that had entered my life did not sink in just yet, as the memories of the evening had yet to assault me. The sounds of the distant voices held an otherwordly presence that I couldn't fully interperet. Then, like an army breaking a seige into the castle walls, the images of unspeakable loss broke in. I vomited again, but I was not weakened.

I got up, feeling colder and more focused then ever before. Death called me, the ethereal gloom of the otherworld beckoned me to become its avenging angel. It was a call I was very willing to answer. Ilmeni, I swear that you shall not be alone for long!

I walked into Eno Hlaalu's chambers, the Mer was taken aback by my silent entrance, but he nodded grimly to me, knowing exactly what I was going to ask of him. He unrolled a Writ, a set of daggers, and my Dwemer Crossbow with a large quiver of poisoned bolts. And most importantly, my pair of black gloves.

"I told the Temple authorities that this was a matter of Mephala's, no one will dare rob you of your revenge. Dren has fled to his Plantation for the time being, but he will depart before this night ends. You must not let that happen. Mephala demands murder. Swiftness and accuracy to you." Eno said as I changed into a pair of blacks, and slipped the gloves on slowly, letting the psychological affects of the 'Black Hands' take over me.

"What of the Duke, though? He has lost a love as well."

"Who do you think paid for the Writ? Vedam has finally seen the light in regards to his brother. Almost a shame that you did not earlier, but this is not time for blame, only blood. Go. Avenge your bride." He said coldly, and I was glad to oblige.

I ran at full speed, hatred pumping my heart and veins, nothing held me back, and nothing would stand in my way. Running, and running, through the Ascadian Isles, underneath the light of Secunda and Masser. I was vengeance. I was pure rage.

Slowing down to take a breath at the hills just before the Plantation, I came to a stop as I gazed at the walls that guarded Dren. Strangely, there were no Guards. No. Dren would have them around him. He knew that he had messed up. Dren! I will see you dead! You will beg me too kill you before I am finished with you!

Holding back my rage, I took in a deep breath to focus my mind. Anger is a weapon only to ones opponent, and there would be plenty of time for it later. The task at hand required subtlety and finesse. Not blind rage, I was not an armored orc wielding a battle-axe. Though I certainly felt like one.

Creeping in slowly through fields, I almost did not capture the slight flicker of cloth as it jumped easily from the ramparts; this was an excellent acrobat. As good as me, the rustle of the marshmerrow reeds were slight enough to dismiss them as the evening wind. If you weren't a paranoid Assassin that is, and I knew stealth when I almost didn't hear or see it.

I unslung the crossbow, and rushed as quiet as I could to the rustle, seeing a tail emerging from a shadow, and the whistle of a bolt heading for my face, I barely dodged the shot, and released mine. I hit nothing it would seem, the shadow grew in size and produced a glowing daedric dagger, and an argonian snout, the clawed hand bringing it down in a wide arc for my neck, the powerful legs rushing for me.

I brought the dagger slightly to the side of my neck, and fell backwards, planting my feet on the lizards chest, and pushing upwards, the smell of brandy quite strong on the breath, and the audible 'oomp' as he landed. The black robed Assassin then unsheathed his Ebony Shortsword from the folds, and prepared for another lunge.

"Stop!" I seethed. "Somehow I doubt that Dren would hire a 'slave' for a guard, so you tell me who you are, or die here and now!" I whispered angrily.

"I am no guard. And it is you who will be dying, here and now. Any friend of Orvas Dren is my sworn enemy" the lizard hissed, his enraged eyes narrowing.

"Dont even start with me! I am here to kill him, and no one will rob me of the pleasure! Not even you! Now tell me why you're here! Are you Twin Lamps? Then you'll like to know. Ilmeni Dren is dead! Orvas attacked my wedding, and my bride is dead! Vengeance in mine!"

The snout seemed to sniff the air for a moment, considering my words. "I am no ‘Twin Lamp’, dunmer. My acts are my own. But I have heard that name before, Ilmeni… Im-Kilaya will be much grieved if what you say is true. But all I have is your word, and that is the one thing I cannot trust.”

I unrolled my writ and left it on the ground, taking a step back, but keeping the figure in my sights with my crossbow. He slowly walked forward, picking it up, and keeping a close eye on me as well, but readying just as intently.

"You're Morag Tong. I've dealt with your kind before. Assassins don't tend to love or wed. So you understand why I don't believe a word you say. But I believe that you are here to kill him. Go back to your guild and tell them someone else has taken care of him."

"No, Lizard! Dren is mine! The Writ is just insurance! This is personal! Make no mistake! I'll kill you if I have too!"

"And I you. You have no idea how many men and mer I’ve killed on this gods-forsaken island.” The argonian paused. “Even Morag Tong assassins. And that is a nice crossbow that you are holding—I wouldn’t mind acquiring another like that. Mine is just like it yours see, Dwemer-make, and shoots viper-bolts very nicely, as you know quite well...who are you? What claim do you have to Dren's blood, dunmer?"

"I am Sethyas Velas. You may have heard of me by another name...I am the Nerevarine."

The snouts jaw lowered slightly. "The Nerevarine?! Come on! The Nerevarine is seven feet tall and can punch through the metals of the dwarves—if you can believe any of the bards’ lies. Hah! Nerevarine…

I took off the glove hiding the Moon-and-Star. "I have told you no lies, Assassin! Now step aside!"

"So, you are Nerevar returned. Then we have a mutual acquaintance. Caius Cosades."

"Caius? The Spymaster? What do you know of him?" I said incredulously.

"He was my commanding officer… when I do not kill in my own name it is in the name of the Emperor. But perhaps you have something to say about that, Operative.”

"You're in the Blades? Then who sent you here?"

The Argonian looked to the moons for a moment. "I have come for the revenge of my people, who are stolen and sold into bondage in the name of abominations like Orvas Dren, and I come for my own vengeance, for the slavers of Vvardenfell have been lately pursuing me. Im-Kilaya wishes that I would also come for the Twin Lamps, but I will not serve any but the Emperor. My name is Always-He-Lingers-in-the-Sun, Heik Auri in my native tongue. You can call me Al.” He paused, and looked down to the ground. “Your words now have the ring of truth. A good woman is dead? A shame. Ilmeni was good to my kind. A credit to her race. And the scrib-born scum killed his own niece! He shall pay in gallons for every drop of blood he has spilled of hers!"

"Yes, he will. At my hands. If I am your superior in the Blades as you say, then I order you to step down."

"You’re not listening. I'm not here at the behest of the Blades, Velas. I came here on my own terms. I must also have my vengeance."

"Then perhaps a compromise is in order?" I suggested, lowering my crossbow.

"I'm listening." Al said lowering his Ebony Shortsword.

Three minutes later, thirteen of Orvas Dren’s guards were dead. Two more fell to dual bolts being fired by two black-clad assassins, and within seconds Heik-Auri and I reloaded and made our way into the lower strongholds of Drens Villa. Working with him was strangely instinctual, as all our moves complemented the others.

Dren himself showed all of his fear at the two of us approaching him slowly, both with Dwemer Crossbows at the ready. A long wet stain appeared in his left pant leg, and I held my ground, as the argonian pulled his shortsword and struck Dren in the side of the head, a trickle of blood falling down the side of his face. And then tied him to a chair, and I took a seat as well, laying the crossbow across my lap, and lit up a hackle-lo leaf, exhaling the smoke slowly, as I gave the most sinister of looks to Dren, his eyes never leaving me.

"So..get it over with Nerevar! Kill me! What are ya waiting for?"

"Yes, Dren, I am going to kill you...when you look up from that chair you’re tied to and look into my eyes and beg me to. In the meantime, my friend, the lizard here, who just so happens to be a fellow assassin, and fellow Blade, is going to have his way with you and remind you of the error of your slaver ways. You see, Ilmeni was a secret member of the Twin Lamps, and you hurt his feelings just as much as you did mine, so you can understand just how much the both of us want you dead....I’m going to sit down here and watch you, and whenever you're ready just say the word..."

Heik-Auri whispered harshly in my ear, “Argonian, not lizard.” Then he turned to our prisoner, speaking loudly, “Orvas Dren, you have made my people, and the people of Vvardenfell. I cannot make you suffer proportionately, but I will certainly try.” He looked to me. “Velas, there is a torch just back there in the hallway. I have need it of it, if you would.” As I walked down the stairs to pick up the torch, the argonian spoke again, “Now, what I’m going to do is hang you upside down from the ceiling here, and place that torch underneath your head. I’ll be applying a few spells of destruction to the rest of your body, as well. You should have heard how Talare Arvel screamed last night, when I visited her plantation.”

Dren spat, “You lizard scum…”

“Silence!” I was walking back upstairs with the torch when Always-He-Lingers-in-the-Sun slapped Dren’s face with the flat of his ebony blade. He turned to me, “Put that torch over there for a moment, Sethyas. Help me hang this scum up.”

Two hours later Dren cried, “AHHH! PLEASE! PLEASE! ENOUGH!” as Heik-Auri prepared to set another torch under the scrib-sucker’s head.

I walked up slowly to the monster. His face burned and beaten nearly beyond recognition. I put out my seventh hackle-lo on his cheek, the ash boiling in with the blood. I took out the dagger that Eno had supplied me with, and I carefully held it to his throat.

I felt the pressure of the tip going into the neck, and I brought it slowly across, savoring every moment. The tearing of the jugular, the esophagus, the wheezing for air, the waterfall of blood pouring like a rivulet from the neck. My vengeance was complete.

Always helped himself to Dren’s stash of fine brandy and inbibed, offering me a bottle of my own. I accepted heartily, laying my head back, and swallowing the contents as fast as I could.

"I wonder, do you sleep as poorly as I?" the Sun-Lingerer asked me.

"Before this, I slept fine. After this. I don't know. I know what they say about revenge. When seeking it, dig two graves. But this felt damn good. I don't care what they say....I don’t know...heh...I wonder what a friend of mine would have to say about all this.."

"Well. It was nice to work with you, I suppose, but I don' t think that we’ll be meeting much after this. You are the Protector of Morrowind, I am the black hand of the Emperor." He said, while picking up a set of daedric greaves, and a large sack of booze. They say that to the victor go the spoils, but I didn't feel much like I had won anything.

It was an honor to be of assistance, Black Hand.

I just wonder what Sethyas will do now...

Yeah, he feels oddly wrong about it. Not about the killing itself but about how he did it. Normally, Sethyas tries to make it as quick and painless as possible but this time it was completely the opposite.

And a great cooperation with this update. Good work, both of you.

Mmmm, yes he had his revenge, Dren is dead after some considerable torture. Of course Seth will feel good just after the deed and some more time...BUT it won´t give him Ilmeni back, and when he realises that the grief will return and double his pain.

It´s a good thing he´s got friends that care for him, he´ll need them...oh yes he will. And they´ll be there for him, at this time Serene has gotten a revenge as well, and she will understand the torturing pain Seth is going through.....Oh poor Seth!

A very good update, I did enjoy the cooperation between you and canis.....it was awesome....


More please?

That was a extremely tasteful collaboration there. Both of you did an excellent job. The dark tone completely fit the scene and it was a great read.

I guess we'll see how Sethyas is affected overall by this quite soon. My thoughts, they aren't going to be a good affect.

Thumbs up!

“It is customary to pay the executioner of a Writ his gold. But I understand why you do not wish this payment. However, Sethyas, the Morag Tong is neutral, and this will likely be the first and last time that personal and guild matters overlap. If you are to be Grandmaster someday, you must remember that.” Said Eno noting that Orvas Dren was dead.

“I know Master. As I promised you long ago, the matters to which I have delayed my succession are now complete, as you well know. My love is dead, and my life as the Nerevarine exists in Tavern Songs and Bard’s tales now. While on Red Mountain, I discovered the final thread of the Sanguine Tokens. I present to you the Glove of Sanguine Safekeeping.” I said unfolding the glove, and placing it on his desk.

His eyes lit up with a wondrous look. A long time goal that he likely would have never seen complete glowed faintly before him. “Incredible, Sethyas! This is surely a sign! You, blessed by Mephala, have completed the most arduous and demanding of the tasks that have been set before you!”

“With this glove, you have completed the Sanguine Tokens Quest. And now, Mephala shall bless you with her skill. This is a power I bestow upon you, at will, without the aid of enchantment or scroll; you will be able to blend yourself with shadow, you will feel your skill with a blade grow, I grant you: ‘Mephala’s Skill’ a blessing that is bestowed only upon the greatest of Tong Assassins!” he said, and began a series of arcane mutterings, and held a knife over a candle for a moment, then raising my sleeve, he burned a small idol of a Velothi Mephala just below my shoulder.

I felt the energy associated with the ritual course through my system. It was like a spell, or a power associated with a birthsign, yet different somehow, I could cast it at will, as much as I wished, and no matter how tired I was, it would always cover me in shadow.

I practiced with it for a moment, and did indeed realize that I blended well with shadow, and did feel my skill increase with any weapon, not just a blade. And it was stronger then invisibility, it was chameleon. I did not need the Ring of Khajiit or the Bow of Shadows. I could now rely on skill alone.

“Now. The matter of Grandmaster is before you. Do you now wish to succeed me as the leader of the Guild? Will you accept the burden of leadership as the earthly representative of Mephala?”

“Yes, Eno. The time has come, and I, your Exalted Master, shall succeed your position as the Grandmaster. What would you ask of me?”

“Traditionally. The Grandmaster was succeeded when the next in line honorably executed him. This is the ritual that pleases Mephala, and proves that the successor is worthy and ruthless enough. If you wish to kill me now, that is your right, and you may claim it, none shall dare question you.”

I was surprised, yet not surprised. I was slightly shocked, yet not at all. I understood the importance of the ways of the Morag Tong, and sealing the pact with blood certainly sounded like something that Mephala would ask of her followers. But something about the way Eno spoke made me think that there was another option available.

“That is the tradition. But what is the alternative?” I asked him, and a weight lifted from his serious eyes.

“The alternative is that you allow me to retire. I am tired, and wish to spend the rest of my days in quiet and study, and to see this new world that you have created Nerevar. No one will question our word. What is your choice?” he asked me.

”I suppose if I were a traditional Dunmer, intent on proving my worth to lead the Guild to Mephala as you say. I would kill you. But, as I am so often reminded, I am an Outlander, and I confess that I have affection for you, Eno. Not good for an Assassin, but it is there nonetheless, I would not kill you friend. Retire. Rest. You well deserve it, but my mercy comes with one condition.”

“That is?...” Eno asked raising an eyebrow, his hand slipping slowly to the hilt of his glass dagger.

“That when I need advice, I can call upon you.”

Eno smirked. “That is if you can find me. But I accept. I will send out the message immediately, as there are a few loose ends I have to tie up. But otherwise, you now lead the Guild. You are Grandmaster Sethyas Velas. Lead well, good friend.”

We bowed to one another, and I prepared to leave, but Eno stopped me with a hand on my shoulder.

“There is one last thing, Grandmaster.” Eno said softly.

“What is that?”

He held out the Ebony Dart that had my name carved on it, from the war with the Dark Brotherhood a year or so ago.

“I have held onto this because the time was not right for you to know. But the Dark Brotherhood Assassin whom visited you with this was not associated with our War. Someone put out a contract on you, that is the only time that they ever do something like this. I have tried to track down who would do it. But the Dark Brotherhood keeps their secrets well hidden, as do we. However, there may be a contingency that we have overlooked operating in Almalexia, or Mournhold, Morrowind’s Capitol.” He said with a slow informative tone. My reaction was mixed once more.

“There are recent events there that have passed since you have saved Vvardenfell. Events that may be a dark cloud forming once more. Remember, as a Morag Tong, you are neutral, you serve the stability of the politics, not aiding either side. You may wish to investigate this further. A man, by the name of Apelles Matius has recently arrived from Cyrodiil, an Imperial guard that served in a special unit that tracks and kills Dark Brotherhood Assassins. He may be one to speak with, in time.”

“But first, there is some Guild Business that you must finish. See any of the Masters when you are ready, there are some high profile writs that only the skill of the Grandmaster may complete, as we are well paid to insure their success. This may be the last time we speak for quite some time. I wish you well, Brother. And may you walk in Mephala’s Shadow always.” He said, as I prepared to leave, staring at the Ebony Dart, the tip between my thumb and forefinger.

This was disconcerting news, and I made my way to Bal Isra. Ilmeni’s death avenged. Vvardenfell saved. The promise to Eno fulfilled. But the emptiness of her passing was still lingering. A void that nothing would fill. But I could certainly try. And try with the stores of Brandy I had. I wondered at my temporary companion, the Argonian Assassin, Always-He-Lingers-In-the-Sun, and his apparent alcoholism. Would I end up like he? Drinking to get the images out of my mind? Trying to forget the loss.

I had lost two of the most important women in my life, first my sister, and now my wife. Was Mephala or some other entity determined to ensure that I never had any measure of happiness? I had taken my revenge on the one most directly responsible for Ilmenis death. A revenge that left me feeling raw and empty. But, perhaps it too was my fault for not taking Orvas’ life when I had the chance. What did I expect from a Crime Lord? That he would show the same compassion to his own kin as I had? Assassins don’t love, and they don’t feel compassion. There is a price for these things, and I have paid them.

I awoke to the early dawn light of the next morning. Despite the slight stagger from binge drinking, I could not sleep anymore, and I busied myself with cleaning the bottles and making the bed that only one slept in now. While my Redoran colleagues had heard the news, no one had approached me with anything, and Bal Isra served as a midway hostel and growing trade center in the paths between Maar Gan and Ald’Ruhn. I did not wont for anything as Lord of the Manor. But it did not take away the sadness.

Though I still found it strange that I had not yet shed a tear for Ilmeni. I felt her loss deeply, but the tears did not come. Perhaps I had shed the final one for my sister. Perhaps not. Or perhaps they would come at her funerary rites, which would be in three days time. As her husband and love, I was expected to be there in the main procession. And it would be important to letting her go. Get on with the grieving process as it were.

Then the Grandmastery. And this news that someone had hired the Dark Brotherhood to kill me. It never seemed to stop, and always, like a river flowing along, the current taking me with it. I needed to build a dam.

An emotional update. I'm pleased that Sethyas did not kill Eno. Somehow it feels right to see him spare a life, even though the Morag Tong demands otherwise. Perhaps there will be some reformations in the guild? As for the funeral, I hope that Sethyas carries his dagger. I know that it might seem like the wrong place, but what's a better time for an assassination attempt than when the target is grieving? He hasn't seen the last of the Dark Brotherhood. They'll come back and now that he's Grandmaster, his value as a target has only grown.

This is an excellent update. There is so much... feeling. And yes, beware the alcohol. All that brandy and flin is... distorting.

Yes he will cry....but it might take a while, but it´ll come, I´m sure of it. His reaction is quite normal, and it´s somewhat good he´s got things to occupy him....

Then time heals..but not completely and I hope he´ll visit Athyn and Serene or they will surely come to him...maybe when he needs it most, because Serene has an instinct for those matters.

I hope he´ll speak with Apelles as soon as possible.....

Oh my Seth will go to Mournhold.....

I'm personally interested in seeing how Sethyas handles some of these Grandmaster's Writs because I recall that some of them are going to be people he knows. Will the person conflict with assassin? We'll see...

Brilliant use of characterizing as always Black, Sethyas emotions are clearly displayed for us. Excellent work!

Maybe not quite what some of you were expecting............



Vedam Dren’s eyes were raw with tears and grief. He beheld me with a sad countenance as I arrived off of a small rowboat in the peninsula at the Ascadian Isles to the Dren Ancestral Tomb. He took me in with a fierce embrace, and shook with grief as he cried once more. He was far stronger then I.

“The greatest sorrow is when a Parent must bury his child. I had hoped for reconciliation with Orvas, that as my brother, he may eventually see the light. I know you felt that too, and that is why he lived until the night you avenged my daughter. How was his death?”

I looked him over, hoping not to send him over the edge. “His death was as his life, brutal. I believe I sent him into the next world with some idea of the pain he caused in this one.” I said slowly, as I did not relish the memory. I am killer, but I am not sadistic.

“Thank you for that. But the time has come to bury two members of the Dren Family. And I feel the loss is more then most can stand. I confess, that I had considered suicide. But I must be strong to lead our people, Nerevarine. And for Ilmeni. She wouldn’t have wanted that. She wouldn’t even have wanted revenge, but Orvas had gone to far, to much of a threat, I pray that the Tribunal forgives me…” he said as the small gathering of the Dren Family and priests prepared the remains of both Orvas and Ilmeni into the Ancestral tomb. I had no such tomb to claim as my own families as I never knew them.

The songs were sung, and the tombs doors opened. The torchlight flickered into the rancid air of the resting place, and the undead guardians of the tomb let the family pass through without a quarrel, sensing the kinship. Ilmeni lay with her uncle, in coffins that over time would be reduced to ash. I had asked that Ilmeni not be made a guardian, though they could do as they wished with Orvas. Perhaps he could do some atonement in a necromantic servitude.

We departed outside, and the Wake lasted several hours. People speaking of fond memories of Ilmeni. The Arvels, friends of the family, and a similar splintering of Slaver Nobles, and abolitionist offspring, also attended. I spoke with many of the attendees of the funerary rites, and shared my fondest memories of her, the way she laughed. The way she looked at me sometimes. But that was all gone now. I was left. I did finally cry. Not overwhelming bawling, just a few tears that finally came as I thought of her. Perhaps I was growing colder. Perfect for an Assassin. My trade, my curse.

The Duke and I traveled back to Ebonheart on the Chun-Ook, and we payed our respects to one another, drinking well into the evening, recounting our tales Ilmeni. He told me of her constant compassion to outlanders as a child, always brave, and always kind. In truth, he knew of her abolitionist ways, and he was proud of her for it, always making sure that she was protected from afar, never trying to smother her with the power of his Duchy. Even the guard in Jobasha’s Shop wasn’t to keep an eye on Jobasha, it was to make sure the Cammona Tong wasn’t going to try something during business hours, and the Duke spoke of a time when the Dunmer finally saw slavery as a barbaric practice.

I made my way to the Vivec Mages guild, and in spite of the late hour, the guild guide was somewhat happy to transport me to the Ald’Ruhn mages guild, for a tip on top of the fee. I stumbled with a buzzing gait through the streets of Ald’Ruhn, ending up at Sarethi Manor.

”Waitaminnit…this isn’t my house..why did I come here?” I spoke aloud, as I prepared to leave to Bal Isra, the door opened slightly, then all the way, as the blue pair of eyes saw me through the crack.

“Sethyas! Are…you all right? Please, come in! You know you’re always welcome here. I would like to speak with you, as would Athyn. I know you must have suffered terribly in these last few days.”

“sshh..sure. Why not. Lets talks! A lot…yeah. I think. Wait, what were we talking about?” I replied nonsensically.

“You’re stinking drunk! Now you’re definitely coming inside. I won’t have you eaten alive by cliff racers on the way to Bal Isra.” Serene said grabbing my forearm and leading me inside to a spare set of quarters. I hadn’t noticed, but those blue eyes were reddened too. She had been crying a great deal.

“I won’t blame you for taking to drink. I know you must be sad beyond anything I can imagine right now. But you need to keep yourself in check. We can speak more of this in the morning.”

“Not..taking to….drunk..drink…just being sociable with the family….and the Duchess…er…Duke. Her Dod..Dad…yeah, Dad. Think I had too much. But I could use a rink now that you mention it…” I continued.

The next sensation was cold water splashing my face, and a little more sobriety found its way into me with the shock of the sensation, and the spinning stopped just a little.

“Thanks.” I said wiping the water from my face.

“Anytime.” Serene responded holding a small bucket. “I have quite the background in it.”

She sat down on the bed next to me, and embraced me in motherly fashion. “Are you okay, I mean really okay? Has her death hurt you more then your letting on?”

“I’m …doing fine. I’ll get over it, in time. I have before. I must again it seems.”

“That doesn’t sound very healthy. I think you’re bottling it all up. As a matter of fact I KNOW you are.” She said carefully, but it still upset me, and the liquor didn’t help me in holding my tongue.

“I told you a hundred times, too stay out of my head! What ever goes on in my mind is my business! Whether I am bottling it up or not is also none of your business! I grieve in my own way! I have lost a Sister, and now a wife. Every time I open up to a Woman, something happens too her. That is the danger of those close to me! Death follows me, but strikes at what I care about! That is why you would do well to stay away from me!” I said exiting the rooms, leaving Serene sitting on the bed, and I pounded my way to the door.

As I reached out for the doorknob, I felt her grip on my forearm once more, this time it was like a bird of prey clutching a fish. And her hand seemed to cleave the air, as the stinging sensation of her slap reminded me who I was dealing with.

“Don’t you DARE act like you’re the only one who is hurt by Ilmeni’s loss! Don’t you DARE forget that I was there! And don’t you dare forget who fought by your side without question when danger was about! If death is a risk of knowing you, then I’ll gladly accept it! You have no right too push the ones that care about you away just because you think they might get hurt! It happens. It does, I’m sorry. That’s life! You should know that better then anyone. But I don’t think Ilmeni would trade one second of her time with you to avoid the consequence of death, any more then you would! Or is that was this is really about?” Serene scolded me.

“That if I could have, I would gladly have traded places with her? That I wish now that it had been us both, or neither one? Yes, Serene. I wish that. And don’t tell me that, Azura forbid, the same fate should befall Athyn, that you wouldn’t feel the same. Now leave me be!” I said breaking her grip and wandering off into the night to return to Bal Isra.

“Greetings Sethyas. Or Shall I call you by your new title? Grandmaster. Eno has sent the announcement to all the guildhalls, and all Tong agents now know you as such. Congratulations, I knew that this day would come, and I am proud to serve under you as a Master.” Goren Andarys bowed his head in respect to me, and I followed suit.

“I thank you, Master Andarys. It is a strange feeling, but one that I am proud to accept as well. I pray that I prove to be a good leader in time. I need the Guild now more then ever, as my own family slowly disintegrates before me.” I said slowly.

“Ah yes. We had heard about the attack on your wedding that left your wife dead, and the subsequent reaction that lead you to bring justice to her murderer. Blood demands blood. It is the way of the world that the Morag Tong brings order too. I trust you have grieved enough to maintain your focus, now that you are our leader?” Goren asked me carefully, in manner that showed that he respected my new position.

“I still feel the pain. But it will not stay my blade. I am prepared. Eno spoke of some Writs that I must fulfill? That the one of the Grandmaster Rank must fulfill?”

“Yes. Since the passing of Dagoth Ur’s Shadow, we have had many writs requested. The alliance that you built, has seemingly crumbled almost overnight, and no house or faction wants to be caught ill-prepared. The most challenging of these Writs I have saved for you alone. Are you ready to accept your first, Grandmaster?”

“I am.”

“Dram Bero lives in secret somewhere in Vivec, show him that he cannot hide from the Morag Tong. The Hlaalu Councilor has tried to hide from us for many years now. But someone wants him dead enough to offer 4000 Gold for this.”

“As the Grandmaster, am I privy to the requester’s name? Am I permitted to know why?”

”Of course, Sethyas. Our laws require that we keep it secret from the lower ranks, but you may order me to divulge the records as you see fit. The name of the requester is none other then Dondes Dralor, a Redoran Noble who has an ancient grudge to fulfill with Bero, though it may not seem as such, Dralor has money vested in Caldera, contrary to House Redoran’s wishes, and he profits from the cheap labor, and Bero and Crassius are both involved in projects to help clean house in Caldera, business and pleasure mixed it would seem, as his grudge and pocketbook will both benefit from Bero’s death.”

“Then Dralor is a criminal! Why would we aid him?” I raised an eyebrow.

“We are neutral. When Bero’s death comes to light, Hlaalu will undoubtedly invoke a writ against Dralor as well. Not every writ has a noble intention, that is why it is required to keep the backgrounds secret. The Morag Tong is as much a religious order as a business. Besides, wealth can buy power. Would you rather two private armies meet on the streets of Balmora, and the commoners suffer from outright warfare? I think in this sense, we Dunmer are more civilized then the west, as we acknowledge the suffering that open warfare brings, and don’t paint over it with words like honor and duty.”

“I take your point. I know these things well, I guess just finding out the truth is harder then most can accept. Very Well. To Vivec, and Dram Bero shall meet his end, for I already know where he is. In Mephala’s Name…” I said accepting the Writ.

In the Hlaalu Canton, I wandered around, thinking of the best way to handle the Councilor. While I certainly had the ability to simply walk in and hack him to pieces, that seemed too inelegant an end for the Councilor whom had voted me for Hlaalu Hortator. Now it seemed I had to repay his kindness with death. A twisted world we live in.

I saw Bero exit from the Plaza in Hlaalu, perhaps from visiting Curio. I saw him making his way down. Perhaps this was as good a time as any…

“You there, Gondolier! How much for your hat, shirt, and Gondola?” I asked Aren Maren.

“Is this some kind of joke? Maybe you should leave…” he said fingering his Iron Dagger.

“The Morag Tong needs it you fool! Here. One Thousand Drakes should more then cover your expenses, and buy your silence as well!” I said handing him a large pouch, his eyes widened in shock, and he quickly took off his shirt and hat, trading it for my shirt, and shoes.

“Don’t worry, Sera. I saw nothing. I just took a break in the Elven Nations Cornerclub to get a drink, whatever happened when I came back, I did not see!” He said flashing me a wide grin, and took off to the club to authenticate his story.

Dram Bero slowly made his way to the Gondola, and my face was covered mostly by the wide circular brim of the hat. “Gondolier! To the Foreign Quarter please! And I’ll have an extra five pieces for you if we get there in the next ten minutes!” Bero said amiably, obviously in good mood.

He got on the Gondola, and set us off, not quite used to rowing this kind of boat, especially while standing, but I got the gist of it, and Bero did not seem to notice either way.

“So. Any gossip going around? Did you hear the Nerevarine’s wife was killed? Just a week ago, when they blocked off the High Fane for his wedding! A shame! A true shame! I know the mer on a personal basis too. He gave us so much, and now the poor bugger is repaid with loss. A real shame.”

I found it hard to believe that I was about to kill this man, who spoke with such compassion to my loss. But do not let respect and compassion mix together. Stay focused. Slip out the Mehrunes Razor, feel its hunger. Focus on the kill.

”I have heard recently that a Councilor was assassinated by the Morag Tong, right in the middle of the Cantons, left dead on a floating Gondola. Tragic, yet beautiful, don’t you think? If I were to die, I think I would like the sound of the waterfalls to soothe me.” I said halting the Gondola.

“I haven’t heard anything like that! Why are we…Sethyas!!” Dram became deathly white, for a Dunmer that is.

I made it quick, not wishing for him to feel any pain. Not after last time. And I left him on the boat, with a Stoneflower by his head for respect. Ilmeni’s favorite flower.

I left the shirt and hat on the boat, and dove into the waters of the bay, and swam all the way to shore. I quickly made a stop to the clothier in the foreign quarter, and then paid for passage back to Ald’Ruhn.

“It is done Grandmaster? Then to you goes the full payment of 4000 Drakes. Dram Bero now rests with the ancestors. And from what you tell me, you killed him quite cleverly. Even adding a bit of artistry to his demise. Floating on a boat in the water…so peaceful. Almost poetic.”

Sethyas seems like he's having a hard time adjusting to his harsh new reality. Assassination isn't an easy business within which to maintain a healthy perspective on life.

Edit: New update already! Crikey! And very interesting indeed. I've only managed to acquire two of the Grandmaster Writs myself, so I'll be interested to see how this all works out.

It nice to see that Sethyas is at least attempting to give his marks painless deaths, at least, to the ones he knows.

Hopefully he and Serene can make up as well.

Yes....yes, so appropriate, so right...Seth reacted just as I actually thought he would. Now I must say I´m a bit surprised that most ppl react so negative to Renie´s try to read their minds! It´s not that she´s prying into their heads trying to revreal deep secrets! It´s the same in RP and fanfic! She really doesn´t mean no harm! She´s trying to help, but nevermind I guess it´s quite normal to feel repulsion to mindreading!

I´m sure they will be on speaking terms with each other the next time they meet! Seth was terribly drunk that time and you know you say things you hardly remember afterwards. These updates were wonderful as always and I´m always excited when I find another update here!

I feel like I know Seth really well......

Some excellent updates since my last visit. I am ashamed to admit that I enjoyed the death of Orvas Dren; after all the pain and suffering he caused, it somehow felt right. This from a pathological pacifist. I'll have to go hug a few trees in penance for that thought.

I appreciated the artfulness and almost peacefulness with which Sethyas carried out the assasination of Bero. I'm curious if this style will persist in his future writs.

@minque: I think perhaps the biggest problem with mind-reading is that he can't do it to her. People always react badly to the idea that someone has a power over them that they do not also have. But on top of that, people are very attached to the concept of privacy. If mindreading was common, people would have gotten over that long ago or figured out ways to shield their minds. In reality, it is perceived as an assault on the one thing that should be safe. Perhaps in time Sethyas will understand Serene's intentions and forgive her.

“Under Sun and Sky, Grandmaster, I greet you warmly.” Ethasi Rilvayn, the Balmora Chapter Steward greeted me, as I moved back the hood of my ceremonial red robes.

We bowed heads to one another, and we sat at a table sipping on Trama Root Tea to discuss our business. While taking a sip, she unrolled the writ, and I nearly spit out the contents of my mouth. The writ was for Larrius Varro.

“The Imperial Legion itself has hired us to dispose of this General. They fear a backlash from the Cammona Tong for his,…connections to the council club slaughter. The legion dare not arrest him for lack of evidence, but everyone knows he is connected in some way, Grandmaster. The only special instructions are to make it quick and quiet. No one must see you, no one must know. The Legion and the Tong must seem innocent in the matter, so the blame can be applied to the Cammona Tong.” She explained, taking a sip of her tea.

I dare not explain to her that I was the arbiter of Varro’s vengeance. Nor do I think that the Legion would believe me if I told them that the Cammona Tong had been practically crippled in recent weeks. But that was wishful thinking, the nature of this beast was that when you cut off the head, three more grew. Even as I write this, I am certain that there are lieutenants in the Cammona Tong consolidating their power in their respective territories; I have somewhat of a background in banditry in Cyrodiil. Though I was more of a solitary bandit, I still knew people in bands; I knew what areas to avoid.

“It is rather strange to honorably murder a Legion Officer. Since when are we permitted to assassinate heads of the local Imperial Office? The Emperor would disband the Morag Tong, its members forced to freelance, essentially allowing the Dark Brotherhood to take over Morrowind…”

“The Legion hired us, the legion sanctioned it. Again, utmost secrecy is required. If caught, you may use the Writ to get out of a legal bind, however the Legion will have lost it’s trust in us. As much as I would like to see the Emperors Lackeys leave our Nation, we still have to deal with them in the meantime. This is as much about removing Larrius Varro, as it is about diplomacy. Your skills are second to none. You will not disappoint.” She said with finality to her tone.

For three days I observed the Fort. Varro rarely left, and when he did. It wasn’t far enough from the fort to remain a quiet kill. Arknghthand was close to the fort, but it served me no help, as I had cleared out the Bandits over a year ago. I had to go inside, and slay him as he slept. There was little other recourse.

I waited until the late evenings light of Secunda and Masser, and I called upon my new power of Mephala Skill. I blended in perfectly with my surroundings as the guards continued about there patrols, archers thumped loudly down the ramparts. I creaked in the main fort door, looking about to see if I were noticed. No one saw a thing, and I slipped in carefully.

I crept in slowly to the barracks, and the sounds of dozens of snoring soldiers helped keep my already silent footsteps masked. I continued to Varro’s Chambers, the door loacked with a minor set of tumblers, I unfolded my small leather folder with a small pick set, and took to the task of unlocking the door. Success came within seconds, and I slowly opened the door, making certain not to let the old pair of hinges alert the sleeping form of Varro to my entry.

The General was sleeping quietly, and I had a perfect opportunity to simply slash and run. I unsheathed Mehrunes Razor with a soft hiss. Admiring how it glowed slightly in the darkness with an unearthly red. The blade came out to a point that almost begged for blood, the handle was exquisitely designed, with a pommel that resembled a small acorn, and perfectly balanced the blade.

But the question still begged, how would a Cammona Tong Thug handle this? If he could even get to a General in the fort…the Cammona Tong would need a specialist, an Assassin, someone like…the Ienith Brothers. Something wasn’t right here.

The writ was legal. In a sense. I had no choice, and I had accepted it. As Grandmaster, I had a duty, above all others to fulfill this writ. We had strict laws, and reneging on a contract was death to the appointee.

I slid the razor quickly across the Generals throat. My back hand muffling any sound he might have made, as I stayed until my former temporary ally died in my hands. I prayed to Mephala and the Nine for his peaceful passage. The Nine, though not my gods, have some part of my background, as I was raised in an Imperial Chapel Orphanage. Though usually teased and shunned being called names like ‘demon’ and ‘daedra’ by the other children. However in this time, the Nine were Varro’s gods, and I released him unto them.

With a muttering of a spell, I felt the mystical energy of a recall spell engulf me. And like a wave crashing onto shore, I appeared in a gust of yellowish-whitish energy in the Balmora Guildhall of the Morag Tong.


I placed the writ on the desk before me, and sat down, staring at the window until dawn broke some hours later. Ethasi, ever the early riser, gave me a surly smile, and looked at the writ before me.

“It is done, Grandmaster?” She yawned.

“Yes. But…who really ordered the writ?” I asked.

“The legion did..someone from the Ebonheart Fort more specifically. Vanis something or other. The Imperial names all sound the same, I’ll get the Record Book.”

“No need. The name won’t lead anywhere. The legion had nothing to do with this Writ. Nor will we reveal that we had anything to do with it. We will let the Cammona Tong take the blame, as they are the ones technically responsible.”

Ethasi’s jaw dropped as she finally realized. “OF course! How could I have been so blind? But he was dressed up and had a letter…it must have been a forgery!”

“Yes. The Cammona Tong tricked us. They wanted to lash back at the Legion, and Varro specifically. And in a twist of irony, I was the one who performed the Council Club Hit, and now I am the one who avenged their murders.”

“YOU? But…”

“It was for personal business with Orvas Dren. Not Morag Tong business. This stays between the two of us. And use the payment from the writ to clean up any mess I might have made. Bribes, whatever. I have business in Sadrith Mora with Dunsapil Dun-Ahhe.”

“But, Grandmaster…why did you not stay your hand if you realized that the Cammona Tong was behind this Writ?”

“Because a Writ is honorable and sacred, besides Varro and I were temporary allies at best. If he figured throwing me to the dogs to save own skin was better, he would have. Sometimes, the grey washes over the black and white. Sometimes we must do things that benefit only ourselves. As ugly and wrong as they might be.”

Dang, I definitely hoped that the Camonna would be out of action for at least a while. Then again, they might lay low after knocking out Varro. Hmm, Imperials in the Camonna Tong? (referring to the fake Legionnaire) This is getting interesting.

Well, it won't lead anywhere. It's like that one Argonian whom works for the Cammona Tong, but solely as a mercenary. The one 'slave' that you lead to Sterdecan.

This was a rather interesting update, given Sethyas reasoning for making the hit despite that in all actuality, the Commona Tong were more than likely responsible for asking for the writ to be made up. His sense of honour is quite strong, likely due to his choice of House among other things.

I enjoyed this update; can't wait to enjoy the next!

O-o.....now what? This is indeed getting very interesting...who´s that legionnaire? Ha I hope it´s the eeeeeeeeeeevil Varus Vantinius....oh aye I do.....just remember what he did to Serene!

I´m with you Seth...all the way, oh my favourite Dunmer!

Now it was a shame he had to kill Larrius, I mean he was a decent guy, did no harm to anyone did he?

Another question....where´s Rayne?.hmmmmm....

Awesome Blackie! Sheer awesome...

It won't? Too bad. Hmm, I never met an Argonian who desired to go to this Sterdecan, wherever that is. The only slaves I've encountered where either satisfied with adding their bracers to my collection or sometimes they wanted to go to Im-Kalaya.

Please don't tell me about this Sterdecan place. I don't want it to get spoiled when I do meet this Argonian.

An Argonian working for the Camonna Tong, even though a mercenary. I don't know what's more surprising, the CT hiring an Argonian or an Argonian letting himself be hired by the CT.

I stared at the towering mushroom tower of Sadrith Mora. I had received communiqué from Dunsapil Dun-Ahhe, the Master of the Sadrith Mora Chapter of the Morag Tong. He pressed me to arrive as quickly as possible, as he promised me a ‘challenge unlike any I had faced’. Not that I take pride in killing, but I take pride in my position as the Grandmaster, and to set the example for the guild now.

“Greetings, Sethyas! Join me in breakfast. For it may well prove to be your last. Should you accept this Writ, that is.” Said the former Ashlander, pushing a plate of kwama eggs, scrib jelly, and bread to me. I ate bits and pieces as he regaled me with tales of the Telvanni and their ‘forward’ politics in the Zafirbel Bay.

“But now the time has come for you to find out whom the Writ is for?” He said, building up the tension with a Bard’s sense of drama. It worked.

“Yes. Who?” I replied plainly.

“Mistress Therana.” He said with a macabre smile.

I blinked and laughed. “Therana?! Forgive me, its not that I don’t believe you, I do. But, a ‘challenge’? That old bat is so nuts, that all I would have to do is tell her that there is a humidor with a spider in it that wanted to talk to her, at the bottom of her entry shaft, and she would walk off to her death! Really! She may be a powerful Mage-Lord, but she has long gone into the realm of Sheogorath.” I said drying an eye.

“It’s not like you to underestimate an Opponent, Grandmaster. Your reputation precedes you as a careful one, patient, and cunning. The embodiment of Mephalas teachings. Why so quick to dismiss her power?”

“I had a prior meeting with her, during the Nerevar business. I convinced her to name me Hortator of House Telvanni by doing this..” I said showing him the removable finger magic trick. “It ended in her trying to remove her finger with a dagger.”

He chuckled. “Perhaps that is what her reaction was to a request, but if she is truly insane, then she may react quite violently when confronted in an attempt on her life. Are you willing to accept the Writ? We have been offered over 10,000 drakes on this one.”

I nearly spit out my drink. 10,000 drakes were nothing to sneeze at, even by my standards. “Ah. I see. Someone must REALLY want her dead then. Very well. I accept.”

“Very well then, I assign it to you Grandmaster. Travel to Tel Branora, and end her insanity.”

It wasn’t hard to guess who had a grudge against Therana. The entire Telvanni Council. It wasn’t like the emerging generation of Telvanni Councilors were going to tolerate the older for much longer, and they were willing to use my guild to bring forth their goals to fruition.

My arrival in Tel Branora was in the setting of the sun, hopefully more symbolic for someone other then myself. I knew that the Mistress was likely above in her chambers, perhaps retiring for the evening. I entered unseen with Mephala’s Skill using the Towers natural steps.

“Oh, it’s you again! Are you going to show me how to do that finger thing yet?” Therana said noticing me walking by, showing me a nub where her index finger used to be.

I blinked, and did my best to suppress a giggle. Assassination was a serious business. Usually.

“Umm. Yeah. Here, why don’t you come with me, outside? It will be much easier to marshal my energies in the moonlight…” I said walking outside, as she followed eagerly. It wasn’t going to be this easy was it?

We stood at the bank of the peninsula to the south of her Stronghold, and I pretended to concentrate with humming a bard tune I had heard in a Tavern recently.

“First, you must gather twenty pearls for me. Spend no less then one hour underneath the water! Quickly! Before Secunda and Masser disappear!” I commanded.

Therana eagerly obeyed as she took to the water, flitting about and burning several slaughterfish and Dreugh to a crisp. She was a tough mage, I’ll give her that. Now hopefully she would run out of magicka and drown….

An hour and a half later, Therana surfaced with more pearls then I cared to count in a makeshift basket in her robes.

“Is this enough?” She asked dumping all of the pearls onto the sand.

“Uh, yeah.” I said gawking at the hundreds of jewels.

”Now what?” She said clapping her hands excitedly. “Are you ready to show me yet?”

“Umm…one more preparation must be made. You must fly to the heights of the sky, and pluck the feather of twenty Cliff Racers, while they are in the sky, or else the magic will not work! Then, while still in the sky, you must dispel all of your magicka, and fall to the ground! Go! Quickly! Our time is running short!” I commanded, and she rose to the heights of the sky disappearing as a pinprick.

Half an hour later, I heard the high pitched screaming of a mage falling from the sky, quite similar to that of Tarhiel from when I had first left Seyda Neen. The unceremonious landing of Therana was followed by an incredible sight.

She got up.

“Are these enough?” She asked showing me a handful of hundreds of Racer Plumes, a wide grin on her face.

“Um. Yeah. That’ll do.” I said gawking at the pile of plumes.

“You’ll show me now?” She asked joyfully.

Could nothing kill this woman? I had tried to be as clever as I could, but she kept surviving the ‘tasks’ I had her do. This was time to get ruthless. Not creative.

“Sure. Here. Stand right there, close your eyes. And no matter what happens, don’t move!” I said unslinging my crossbow, and proceeded to use her as a pincushion.

Three minutes and twenty bolts later, she opened one of her eyes looking side to side.

“I feel a tingling sensation…does that mean its working?” She whispered to me.

I looked incredulously at her, lowering the crossbow. “Uh, yeah.” I gave up. Nothing could kill this old crone!!

I sat down, and patted the sand next to me, where she sat as well. “Look, fold this finger back like this. Now with you other hand put your two fingers over that one…now bring it over the knuckle here…and there you go!” I said. Ten-thousand drakes weren’t that important.

“Oh my! Yes, yes! This is wonderful! I’m so happy! Oh…dear,…my heart…” she croaked out, she fell over her head falling into my lap. She was stone dead with a smile on her face.

The joy of learning the ‘magic’ had been too much of a strain on her heart…..go figure. My job was done here, and I had a story to tell Dunsapil.

Whahaha! *cough, weeze, cough* Sorry, I need some air.

This was just hilarious. The master assassin fails constantly to kill his mark. In the end, she drops death from excitement. Hilarious, really.

It's a bit sad though. I liked Therana because of her insanity. She was one of the more fun people to talk to.

Umm, is Sethyas going to take the pearls and plumes with him? I'm sure that a Morag Tong alchemist would be happy to make some potions with it. Don't Cliffracer petals provide levitation?

This was....sheer funny! I really laughed when reading about all the tricks he made towards Therana...Like this:


muhahaha.....what a sight!

Brillians as ever Blackie!

Well, that was interesting. I guess from now on Sethyas will be more wary of doddering old Telvanni sustained by the necromantic arts.

That has to be one of the more amusing update I have ever read. Wonderfully clever Black. It's nice to see some creative range.

S.G.M

I guess he was wrong to underestimate Therana. She seemed to have some sort of supernatural strength in her.

Definitely one of the most amusing updates ever.

Dunsapil Dun-Ahhe laughed. Quite uncharacteristic for a Master of the Morag Tong. And he laughed quite a bit at the story. Commenting that he had heard of everything in the Morag Tong, ranging from the tragic to the hilarious, but this one was the most he had heard. I begged him not to spread it around, for one, we must honor the dead, secondly, I did have a reputation to protect as the Grandmaster.

“Well, I can certainly keep a secret. But, there is one more Writ that must be fulfilled.”

“Who is it?” I asked, clinking through the large bags with the large reward.

“Baladas Demnevanni. A recent addition to the Telvanni Council who resides in Gnisis, has been marked for honorable execution in accordance with the tradition of the Morag Tong.” Dunsapil said solemnly.

I looked into space, as my hand stopped counting the coins.

“I take it you know this Mer?” he said slowly.

“I do. I am the reason he joined the Telvanni Council. Who would want him dead?”

“Gothren. Prior to the former Archmagisters death that is. I believe his Mouth, Mallam Ryon, is ending the ancient feud between these two, taking it upon himself to avenge his death.”

”That’s nonsense! I killed Archmagister Gothren! Not Baladas!”

“I….see. You killed a three thousand year old Mage-Lord? Really Sethyas, I think we’ve had enough of the jokes for one day.”

I gave him a deadly serious look. “I’m not joking. I killed Gothren, and set up Aryon as the current Archmagister to fulfill the Nerevarine Prophecies.”

“Ah Yes, I forgot who I was speaking with, The Nerevarine. Forgive me, Grandmaster.” He said apologetically.

I shook my head. “I wasn’t pulling Rank, Dunsapil. Relax. I simply meant that the motivation behind this writ is misguided.”

”Nonetheless; the writ is genuine. Will you accept it?”

I sighed. “My Honor demands no less. Baladas shall die by my hand, or I his.”

I rested for a few days. Letting the impact of the last few weeks take some more time to settle in. My lost love, my revenge, and my Masterhood, and acting as Mephala’s Black Hand. As the Argonian had said, he was the Emperors black hand, I the Daedra’s.

Did we assassin’s ever act of our own accord? Were we merely the puppets of our masters hands? Or were we on the forefront of fate and destiny? Was I merely a cog in a Dwemer construct? Free will versus Destiny, the question the Dwemer had dared to answer for themselves, and they had paid the ultimate price. There is a flow, and natural course to the flow of the plane, are we part of it, or ships free to set sail where we wished.

Perhaps the illusion is that the Ship is separate from the current, and both must act as one, even one is free to act independently from the other.

Regardless, I set sail in the Elf-Skerring north, to Dagon Fel. From there, I chartered another course to Khuul, from there, I walked south, to return to the Mer I had convinced to join the Council.

“It’s a strange thing, killing a man. You take away everything he was, is, and shall be in this world. He becomes a tragic memory, where flesh and blood once spoke. Petty arguments become savory, the warmth of the sun becomes priceless, where once it was a trivial thing, when you know that death is upon you..” I said staring at the Steam Centurion, appearing out of nowhere, my back to Baladas.

“Yes. I am well aware of these things. But pray tell, why have you come to disturb my peace with such a sentiment, Nerevarine? Has Aryon more business to settle with me? My Mouth is for such things.” He said looking up from some Dwemer Tomes, with an irritable tone.

I shook my head. “No, this business is solely between me and you. I wish that I said I came here to bring you News of any kind. Rather, I bring you the message of death. I pray that your passage is peaceful, wise Demnevanni…” I said pointing my crossbow at his seated form.

“Wait just a minute! What do you think--….” His cry of surprise was ended with the bolt being released from the weapon to his heart, the potent poison was rather quick, as I had made it to be. I rarely felt remorse for a kill. This time I did.

My travels had taken me nearly over the entire Island. But I was home here at Bal Isra. Though Ilmeni’s absence left an unbearable emptiness that nothing could fulfill. I did not drink, as I knew that ‘evil’ of alcohol was really mans desperation to rid himself of unwanted memories. And the weeks of waiting for the pain to dissipate went slowly, but eventually, through the Morag Tong, the clouds broke with a ray of light, purpose to go on.

I called upon Serene and Athyn, to apologize for my outburst while drunk last, and too see the only real family I had left. Loss had brought us closer together in a way that pain only could.

The three of us sat together in the late morning on Sarethi Manor’s veranda, overlooking the Ashlands. Sipping on cornberry juice, and eating a light breakfast. Words were few, but the glances were not. In truth, I was simply happy to be amongst friends, and I basked in their presence, as a light seemed to come from Serene and Athyns love. A feeling that I missed.

“I am glad to see that you are doing better Sethyas. I just wish that you were not such a loner, and determined to see your way through the pain alone. We can help you shoulder that burden. We feel the loss of Ilmeni as much as you.” Athyn said softly.

I gave him a melancholy look, and smiled sadly. “I would not ask it of you, dear friend. Sometimes things are best left separated to a degree. You have had much of your own loss to deal with, and again would not burden you with it.”

“And I suppose that you’re still as unwilling to speak with me of your feelings in this?” Serene chided me.

“Sweet Sister, it has never been my nature to speak openly of them. Its not that I mistrust you, but my way has always been the hidden.”

“But you do mistrust me. To an extent.”

“Yes. But you know why. It’s…uncomfortable.”

”Let me guess. You’re talking about her telepathy? Haha! Get used to it, my boy! I can’t ever win an argument with her, she already knows what I’m going to say next!”

“That’s ALL women, Dear.” Serene whispered to Athyn, to which the three of us chuckled.

“But speaking of certain women, Sethyas. A friend of yours dropped by the other day…Rayne Alas, was it? The bridesmaid from your wedding, pretty little thing. she wanted to make sure that you were okay, and hadn’t seen you for weeks. You might wish to let her know that you’re still alive.” Athyn said taking a sip of his drink.

“Rayne?” I had nearly forgotten about her.

“Oh yes! I had wanted to speak with you about her…” Serene said snapping her fingers.

“What’s that?” I said.

“Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about!” Serene said with a mischievous grin.

”I really don’t, Archmistress.” I said obsequiously.

”Well. If you don’t mind, I did read her a bit. Not her mind, mind you, but there are certain things a woman just knows. Seth….she is in love with you, madly at that.”

“Oooooohh!” Athyn said slapping his head. “Of course! Why did I not see that?! It makes perfect sense. Her demeanor, the way she talked about you…”

The subconscious realization kicked me like a Guar. I knew it from the moment we exited the Red Mountain. But I was already with another. Rayne was dangerous in that sense.

“Maybe. But it does not matter. I do not share it. She is foolish if she thinks anything will happen, my Wife is still fresh in the grave, and it is not proper to discuss such things.” I said with a slight harsh to my tone.

“You’re right, you’re right, I am sorry. It was not to dishonor Ilmeni’s memory in any way; I just thought you might like to know. But a bit of advice, a woman’s feelings are not a thing to be brushed aside so carelessly. Indeed, fighting Dagoth Ur may well have been a cakewalk compared to dealing with a woman scorned.”

“No, Serene. I am sorry. I did not mean to use Ilmeni’s death as an excuse. If it were I that died, I would want for her to move on as soon as possible, to be happy, and not lay around in tears for years on end. She would have wanted the same for me. But, it still is a bit of a sore spot.”

”When Domesea died, I felt the pain deeply, and I still do. I loved Serene too. It was not long before we were in each others arms, Sethyas. As you said, Domi wanted me to be happy. Life is for the living. Even if not Rayne, when you are finished mourning, you should look for another love. Life is greater when shared. Yes, there is pain, and compromise, but in my experience, loneliness is a far greater pain, and the one you will regret.” Athyn advised me with a soft tone.

I think that you do love her, Sethyas. Your pain just refuses to let you admit that. You think that it’s wrong to love two people at once. Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t, but it’s sure as hell painful. I know. Serene sent to me, not wanting to chide me in front of Athyn. I finally accepted her gift.

You think so? I don’t know. Maybe. But this hardly seems the time. I thought to her.

Ah! The resistance in your mind is starting to melt down. I just want good things for you Sethyas. I want to help. I want to see you happy. Maybe she would be good for you.

Maybe I don’t want good things for myself.

Oh my. You blame yourself for her death, I can see that now. That explains a great deal. It seems you blame yourself for a great many things.

Just because you’re right, doesn’t mean I’m wrong. I’m not like most people, I don’t try to stick others with the responsibility, when it was my fault. Setsuna, Ilmeni. I’m not a good person Serene. At least I can see that.

“What are you two talking about?” Athyn mused. “Never mind, I can see when I’m not needed. I’m going inside to speak with Salyn. You two hash out whatever it is.”

Serene looked at Athyn depart, and then gazed at me with those damned blue eyes of hers. They saw more of me then I cared to admit.

“Since we’re alone, lets talk, since that’s what you’re more comfortable with. Now whats this about you not being a good person? I should slap you!”

I looked at her. My mouth did not move. I couldn’t open up. The pain, the self hatred wouldn’t let me.

“Oh, so now you want to close up? Seth, let it go. It serves you no good! What makes you think that putting yourself down, makes the things that happened any better? Is it the lack of closure?”

“Closure?” I asked.

“It’s a term that some mages use. They say that the mind needs a sense of finality to traumatic events. Or else it tends to drag on indefinitely.”

“Right. Look, its MY fault that I left Orvas Dren alive. Its my fault that I never told my sister what I did. And I am the one whom must live with those consequences, and with those regrets.”

“Orvas Dren killed your wife, not you. Your Sister joined the Dark Brotherhood, not you. She was not a child! She knew what she was doing. Why make yourself miserable with these thoughts? Especially when they’re not true….believe me. I had to learn the hard way. When I was sent here to Vvardenfell, my uncle, Varus Vantinius, a High-Ranking Imperial Legion Officer, raided a camp of Dunmer I was staying with. I thought it was my fault that what happened to them, happened….” She broke off with a single tear.

“Varus? The guy stationed in Ebonheart?”

“Yes. Many times have I wished to confront him. But I fear that it would weaken my position as the Archmistress, seeking personal vendettas, and that I know all to well the path that revenge leads us down. Some things are best left in the past. I have Athyn now, and friend in you. Even if you don’t fully trust me, I know that I can trust you.”

“Varus….that sounds an awful lot like….Vanus…” I said, my mind already in other places.

“Sethyas? What are you thinking? Whats wrong?”

“Nothing. But I have to go.” I said leaving abruptly.

Aha, so there will be a sequel to our 'fake' Legionnaire!

Also, it is nice to see that Sethyas is beginning to release the pain he keeps bottled up inside. Still a shame about Baladas though. I liked that guy.

Nice couple of updates Black. It's nice to see things improving between Serene and Sethyas, though there's still some resistance (which is good). A now the man who is possibly responsible for working with the Commona Tong is revealed. Of course, that's just speculation. We'll have to see what the next update brings to see whether I'm correct or not.

I was sad to see Baladas die; he was always one of my favorite mages. This whole concept of honorable assassination still feels odd to me, but I guess I'm not Dunmer do I just won't understand.

Also, points for the use of "obsequiously."

Great great great updates! Ha they´re on talking terms again, Seth and Renie! yay, that´s just so good, hehe the man finally realised that she just might be good for him....Oh and now what? I´m so curious what Blackie is up to now.....

SGM......S.G.M

“Alright, Dunmer. You’re right. I did request the Writ against Larrius Varro. And, yes, maybe it was done so that he would quit with his vendetta against the Empires silent partner in Vvardenfell, the Cammona Tong. You can’t do anything about it. I’m an Imperial Officer after all. Outside the jurisdiction of the Morag Tong, on top of the fact that I’m Knight of the Imperial Dragon, commander of all the Imperial Forces inside Morrowind! Now begone, before I have you arrested!” Varus Vantinius spoke harshly to me.

“You’re right, I can’t do anything about as a Morag Tong. But you speak with none other then the Nerevarine! And I’m quite certain the Duke would be willing to look the other way for a piddling little nothing like you! No one manipulates the Morag Tong, and lives to speak of it!” I spat out, my anger nearly red-hot.

“You border on Treason, Dunmer! I don’t care if you’re Lord Vivec! You will speak with respect to me! I’ll let that slide, as you did do something worthy, for one of your kind, but that’s the only favor you’ll receive from me!” he said with rising anger.

“Respect? You know nothing of the word. Very well, before the Duke, and the Imperial Guard, as a Noble of House Redoran, I challenge your Honor! Only a duel in the Arena shall allow you to defend it!” I retorted, the Imperial guard gripping their hilts with increased nervousness.

Varus eyes narrowed, and he put his hand up to hold them back. “You think I’ll simply agree to a duel, from an Elf? I think not. Besides. I saw your fight with Venim, Nerevarine. I admit, your skill with a blade far surpasses mine. I would not readily agree to my death. However, for a consideration, I may be willing to grant your request.”

“Money?”

”No. There are two artifacts that the Legion holds, that have gone missing in recent times. Recover them for me, and I will accommodate your request for a duel. What say you?”

”You think that an Artifact will save you? Ha! Very well. What would you have me do, Imperial?” I chortled out.

“The first, is the Lords Mail. An enchanted cuirass of legendary origin. It was last seen in our shrine, here in the Grand Council Chambers, you will recover it, and return it to me. Here is a shrine key, I will allow you access to investigate the area. Touch nothing, or the guards will kill you. Am I clear?”

I took the key into my black gloved hands, I looked at it, then at him. “Fine. We have an accord.” I said leaving his chambers.

Not a moment after I was walking down the hallway, a hand tapped my shoulder. I turned to see a concerned looking middle-aged Imperial man.

“What is it? I don’t mean to be rude, but I have urgent matters to attend.”

”I know. My name is Rufinus Alleius. I…overheard your conversation with Varus. I maybe able to share some insight into the location of the Lords Mail.”

“I’m listening.”

”One of the troopers, Furius Aculius was muttering something a few days ago about underground caverns beneath Ebonheart, and how the Legion would get what’s coming to it.”

I took the advice, and inspected his quarters inside the Imperial Guards room. Beneath his pillow, I found a worn key. Perhaps it would come in handy later…

Inspecting the shrine, I found nothing amiss. Everything was where it was supposed to be, except for the trail of muck leading to the wall….

I ran my hand along the wall, and could feel a slight trickle of air flowing in. I pounded the stone with the side of my fist, and could hear echoing into a tunnel. Finally, I brought a finger to a crack in the stone that was obviously the product of some Mason. I slipped the key I had found inside it, and the strong lock clicked open.

I proceeded deep inside the caverns that the echo had spoken of, and was greeted by an Imperial who lived up to the homonym of his name. Furius screamed at me.

“Those fools in the legion sought to expel me! So I took their special little artifact! And you’ll not reclaim it from me, Dark Elf! Die!” He yelled unsheathing a katana, and charging me.

I unsheathed my own katana, and agilely dodged his attacks, my strikes landed against his breastplate with little more then sparks. He smiled cockily, only ending the battle by utilizing his fatal mistake. He forgot to wear a helmet.

“Here.” I said handing the cuirass to Varus.

“Well, well! It would seem you have recovered the Lord’s Mail!” He said taking off his breastplate, and putting the recovered artifact on. With a mocking smile he handed me his old one.

“Here. You can have this. You’ll need it if you luck keeps up. Next, I want you to recover Chrysamere. It is a legendary sword; some say it was crafted by the hands of the gods themselves. Nonetheless, the last I heard, it was seen nearest to Sadrith Mora, travel there, and find out what you can. Recover Chrysamere, and return it to me.”

I took the Chun-Ook to Sadrith Mora, and arrived at Durty Muriels Cornerclub. After the usual exchange of gold for information amongst the Thieves Guild, I learned that Draamu Hloran, a necromancer in Abanabi was holding the blade.

Water walking, I could see Tel Fyr just off in the distance as I approached the Cavern Door. Inside, I found the bluish crystals that the isolationist sorcerers seemed to be fond of, as they created reservoirs of magicka.

Dispatching a young apprentice, and several Daedra with the Bow of Shadows, I made my way deeper inside the dark cave, finding a Dunmer woman in robes with a large claymore strapped to her back. Chrysamere.

Fortunately, she wasn’t fond of armor, and my marksmanship was up to the task as she fell to the ground in crumbled heap. I made my way to her body, and unsheathed the mighty sword. I am not a Paladin, but even I could appreciate the balance and enchantment of the claymore. This is why Varus wanted it back. He wanted the power of the artifacts to save his life. I couldn’t even penetrate the Lords Mail with a Daedric Katana, and now, with this blade, which could slice through bone like butter, his chances against me were greater then ever.

But it would not stop me. I had the honor of my guild to uphold, as well as Redorans, since I had invoked their name to confront the Legionnaire. And as a side, it seemed he had wronged Serene in the past. Fates were being written with every step I took.

“Marvelous!” Varus said as he brought the sword to a guard position, and admired the the glow of the razor edges.

“You have performed well for an enemy. You have honor. I respect that. And I will now grant your request for a duel. Meet me in the Arena at Vivec tomorrow, Nerevarine!” He said with a wicked grin.

The match was to be a private one, this time there was no throngs of onlookers. No Ilmeni to cheer me on from the sidelines. No, it was me and Varus. I spent as much time keeping up on my long blade skill as I could, and rested well that night.

The next morning, I went back to the Arena, the last time was against Bolvyn Venim, now, Varus Vantinius. I exited my gladiators pen, and saw the legionnaire exiting his, already wearing full Imperial Armor Dress, and preparing to hew me with Chrysamere.

“Ha! No Armor? You come unprepared to duel, Dunmer!” Varus laughed, seeing me still wear my ritual red robes.

“No, I am quite prepared…after all. You never specified what the rules of the duel were! I am not a legion lackey, Varus! I am a Morag Tong Assassin! And the rules are these: Do whatever it takes to kill your opponent! Come, let us begin!” I yelled from across the field, already running to him, for the first time I saw a look of fear in his eyes.

He brought the claymore back for an overhand swing, as I sailed through the air, both hands with the Ancient Silver Dagger ready for a downward thrust. I landed on him before he could follow through, and in the small openings of the Lords Mail, underneath the arms, I stabbed him with the daggers, the poison running its course through his veins. He invoked the power of the Lords Mail, and immediately the poison was gone. With an upward kick, he sent me falling back, and with a yell, he brought the Claymore in a wide overhand arc, the tip of the blade landing where my head might have been, had I no dodged.

Spinning to my feet, I cursed Varus’ luck, and instead, brought out the Black Hands Dagger. He wasn’t the only one with legendary artifacts, I slashed his forearm once, and then switched back to the Daedric Katana.

For several seconds, I kept up footwork to avoid the blows from him, preferring to dodge, and parrying when I could. Then, finally, with breath running out, Varus fell to his knees.

He breathed heavily, feeling the life leave him. He looked up at me with a look in his eyes that spoke of evil intent.

“Treacherous Dunmer! I should have killed you sooner…” he said as he slumped over to di.

I took the Lords Mail, and Chrysamere. As I was the one who recovered them and won the duel, they were rightfully mine. More importantly, the Honor of the Morag Tong was saved. Never again would we be manipulated.