Another fanfic about Morrowind you must be asking yourself? Do we really need yet another one? I've asked myself the same question
As some of you might know I tried a hand at writing some two+ years back, resulting in two chapters of something I didn't really like looking back. Though even back then, I'd had the idea for another, a different fanfiction.

For some reason despite the fact that I was very much convinced I was not a good writer, this idea stayed with me through all this time and kept nagging at me. Then early this year I decided to simply give it a go again, and the result is something I'm actually quite fond of. This is the result.

It's a fan fiction about Morrowind, set in the time after the events in the game Morrowind but before the events in Oblivion. It's told from the perspective of three people who play a large part in Morrowind's future, at least the future I've created with some parts told by other characters.

As you'll notice, some events in chapters start a little while before the end of the past chapters, just a heads up there.

And lastly, before I bore you all to death with my rants I'd just like to extend a very large thank you, firstly to everyone who ever read "Alexander in Morrowind" and told me it was good (whether they meant it or not ) and second a very special thank you to Treydog who sacrificed quite a bit of his spare time in order to proof read this story, and who played the role of Editor for me. I'm very grateful for that.

Now, on to the story.







The year is 3E 432 many things have changed since the return of the lord Nerevar, and even more things are changing. Four Great Houses have a new head. The Tribunal gods are slain. Temple doctrine is falling and failing rapidly. Oppression of other faiths has been removed. Many rumours float around, rumours of things unheard of in the very near past; The lord Nerevar wants to abolish slavery, Indoril generals are taking bribes and forsaking their honour, some or all of the Tribunal gods were killed by the lord Nerevar, the lord Nerevar used the powers of the heart of Lorkhan to make himself immortal and godlike, secret cults are rising in Cyrodiil, Imperial legions are being recalled to Cyrodiil to quell the unrest, king Helseth poisoned the last king, Mehrunes Dagon has come to earth in the guise of queen Barenziah, Sheogorath has started a love affair with Azura, Bosmer everywhere are planning the end of the world, Orcs have taken to worshiping Khajiit instead of Malacath.

Some rumours are a bit wilder then others of course, but if only half of them are true the future promises to be spectacular.

This story starts in Ebonheart, in the Grand Council chambers where the lord Nerevar is preparing for what could be the most important council meeting in many years.

Chapter 1. Change, for better or worse.


It did not take a keen eye to see lord Nerevar was troubled. And Varvur was most definitely keen of eye. Having been born a nobleman, he had studied with the some of the best warriors of his time. His entire life had been spent training to become a superior warrior, and so he was overjoyed when not a month past he’d been asked to become the new bodyguard of lord Nerevar. So glad he was of being able to finally help the lord Nerevar after everything he’d done for him and his family, having risked life and limb to save Varvur from the old Arch master. It was almost enough to forget the circumstances leading up to it his appointment to this prestigious post. The old bodyguard had turned out to be a spy, and ended his own life before anyone could find out who he was working for. Rumours still swirled that people in Nerevar’s own house wanted him dead. But no matter, Varvur was here now and would do what he could to protect lord Nerevar from harm. On the day he’d first come in he had promised to give his life for lord Nerevar.

But thankfully it wouldn’t come to that. In a small while lord Nerevar would preside over the Grand Council meeting where he would proclaim judgement on the dishonourable Indoril. Last night he’d confided in Varvur. “Finally,” he’d said, “finally I know who’s been behind all this from the start.” Of course Varvur had offered to go after the wicked men or man himself and bring them to justice before the lord, but Nerevar would have none of it. “I fear Varvur, this one is beyond your grasp. No, it’s better to wait until the morrow where I proclaim him guilty before the Grand Council. What better occasion than this, where I rid the realm of both slavery and at least a major part of its corruption.”

And now that time was nearly upon them; outside Varvur could hear heralds introducing each representative of the Houses. It sounded somehow alien to him; back when Varvur had been young he’d accompanied his father once to such a meeting and could still remember being impressed with the mighty trumpets and fanfare so common to the Imperial heralds. Of course now the heralds were no longer Imperials, didn’t even belong to the Legion. Most of the Legion had left Morrowind some few months back. Apparently whatever it was that was happening in Cyrodiil, it wasn’t good. When so many of the Legions were recalled, not just from Morrowind, but lord Nerevar had said it was happening in all provinces, something big must be happening. Varvur remember when the news had come that duke Dren and almost all of the Legions would leave Morrowind. Many reactions could be heard. Some older Redoran nobles were pleased and said this was the time for Morrowind to become independent again. Other, and so Varvur believed, smarter people assumed this would only be the start of trouble, not just in Cyrodiil but in Morrowind as well. Trouble that was serious enough to merit the recall of the Legions would not be likely to confine itself to just one part of the Empire.

Varvur closed the door and was just able to hear the herald calling the name of the Telvanni representative for this meeting, Baladas Demnevanni himself. The man who had been so helpful to lord Nerevar when he came to him with questions about the lost Dwemer. The newly installed Telvanni master and Wizard lord of Sadrith Mora. Neloth, the former master of that city had of course been killed by lord Nerevar when he refused his support.. Baladas had been called to rule Sadrith Mora and had offered his home and all in it to lord Nerevar, both for creating the opportunity for Baladas to move up, and to give him a quiet home away from the crowds, duties and most of all spies and assassins.

“It is nearly time to go, master.” Lord Nerevar looked up; he’d been deep in thought again. Varvur could only imagine what it must be like to have to tell the world that those who should have been most loyal to you were in fact the same people who wanted you dead. “Yes, I suppose it is time. Come Varvur, and remember, change never comes easily, and what is but a small step to some, can be the hardest thing ever for another. At least after tonight, for good or evil, everything will be out in the open.”

Lord Nerevar walked to the door and slowly opened it. As befit his position, Varvur walked one pace behind his lord, watching both front and back. As they slowly made their way down the stairs to the Council chamber, and heralds were calling the name and titles of lord Nerevar, Varvur heard his lord whisper, “How I wish Dren was still here”. Varvur was tempted to say lord Nerevar shouldn’t worry, as he was there to protect him, but nearly as soon as the thought came to him, he realised how conceited that would have sounded. Comparing himself to a duke would definitely not be honourable.

Before them he saw the chamber. Representatives of all the Great Houses were on their feet to welcome lord Nerevar, servants rushed to fill the cups of all of them, heralds finished with their job and now standing idly along the walls of the chamber alongside Indoril guards. At the far side of the chamber he saw the captain of the guard and nodded at him in greeting. Something was missing Varvur realised. Helseth! He should have been here; Varvur himself had sent out the invitation to Helseth asking him to attend the meeting. Helseth had been ill the last few meetings, though some whispered he’d been trying his best to avoid lord Nerevar. He should have been here, Varvur thought. He’d only been present during one meeting between Helseth and lord Nerevar and it was apparent even to a blind Netch that the two loathed each other. There would likely be another apology on the morrow from Helseth, saying how sorry he was for not being able to be there but something so urgent came up. Well, he’d heard those excuses before, and knew just how insincere they truly were.

Varvur moved towards the table; he had insisted to lord Nerevar that he taste any food or drink first before his lord did. What good would it do to be ever present, watchful for an attack and then have lord Nerevar die from poison? The comberry juice appeared to have been made very recently. It certainly didn’t taste odd. Though speaking of odd, that was another thing about lord Nerevar- he hardly ever drank alcohol. Always some water, or comberry juice. It drove some hosts crazy, though most were only too happy to please lord Nerevar.

“Gentlemen and lady,” Nerevar spoke, “I propose a toast, a toast to the future and to change, for without it none of us would be here.” At the far side of the table, Baladas loudly spoke, “Here, here.” There was something about him that always made Varvur cautious. While he knew the Telvanni was a friend of his lord, Varvur had never been easy around Wizards. A cousin of his had once been kidnapped by a Wizard, before Nerevar had persuaded him to release the girl. Varvur remembered the stories when she came home, but even before then. Everything in his upbringing had been about what he could see, paying attention to his surroundings, knowing what went on all the time, but how can you know what goes on when you’re not even sure if some Wizard is invisible inside the very room? How can you prepare for a fireball or lightning bolt coming at you from miles away? Just thinking about it gave Varvur the creeps.

I liked the first chapter. Anything involving politics is great in my book, and meetings like this one featured here, with the major leaders of Morrowind, are always great fun to observe. The various personalities that participate, always make these meetings a unique way to flesh out your characters, both villains and heroes.

So far, I like this Varvur. He seems to be the typical bodyguard character, always looking out for his master's safety. I'm sure he has more to him than that. My own Arthago is pretty similar to Varvur in that aspect, he might appear as simply Lhotun's strong-arm, but he has much more to his personality than that, as I'm sure those who have followed my fan fic have noticed.

In all sincerity () I think we have a possibly great fan fic on our hands. I expect to see how the council meeting will go, eagerly.

So Alexander, stepping up to the plate once again eh? So far, things are looking good. I especially like the time period you've established as the ability to do whatever you want is basically there and there are certainly many questions that could've been asked after Dagoth Ur was defeated.

And to leave us right away with a cliff hanger, how cruel! I wanna know who this traitor is!

hehe, thanks :-)



Well, the entire story is already finished actually, so I plan on updating this every day with about two word pages worth of text. So you'll find out soon

Decay, hopelessness, decline of empires, betrayal. I love it.

My forgotten "Prelude to Oblivion" was also based on presumption that all things must come to an end - not a happy end, of course.

Nice stuff. Quite a subtle opener, I'll certainly be reading those updates.

Now he knew it was time. Lord Nerevar was about to start the meeting and he wouldn’t take it slow. He was going to start off by abolishing slavery and then name those traitors who were trying to start so much trouble in Morrowind, those who had been behind the spy turned bodyguard, or was it the other way around?

“Representatives of your respective houses, it’s so good to see you all here on a historic day. I realise many rumours have been floating around these past few weeks since our last meeting. In the past, whenever slavery has come up, some of you and many of my other advisors have said slavery is simply a part of Morrowind’s traditions. To take it away would be to ruin Morrowind, plantations would go unattended, nearly a quarter of our population would leave, the economy would crash and Morrowind would be in ruins. While I realise all of you wish what is best for Morrowind, so do I.”

“How can we call ourselves civilised while at a meeting like this, when we go home to Argonians and Khajiit, no less then us, slaving away all day long in the hot sun on plantations or in the darkness of the mines. Some of them having been born on those same plantations, to parents captured and taken here, some of them taken themselves with families back home in Elsweyr or Black Marsh, or sometimes not at all when the men who took them killed their parents, or their children because they were too old, or too young to be sold into slavery.”

“I’ve seen slaves killed for trying to run away, tortured for standing up to one who killed their fellow for being too old to work, blinded for looking at a guard the wrong way. And of course we all know why no one ever sees young Khajiit and Argonians, don’t we?” At that Varvur saw quite a few of the councillors look away in embarrassment.

“This ends now, I say. I will no longer stand for this. Councillors, hear my words and mark them carefully, will ye or nill ye: henceforth, keeping slaves is forbidden. At the end of this meeting you shall return to your houses, and spread the word. Exactly one week from now, every slave must be set free. Their bracelets will be removed, and if they so require, their former owner must supply them with enough money and goods to be able to return to their province of origin.”

“Any man or woman who, after hearing this, so much as touches a slave without their consent will be punished as if he laid an ill-intended hand on my own person. Any former slaver who strikes a newly freed slave will be taken by the local magistrate and whipped in the town square of the town closest to their home. Hear me and hear me carefully, slavery is from this moment forward, until the very end of rimes, abolished in Morrowind.”

Varvur knew that if he’d dropped a needle, he would have been able to hear it fall. Everyone in the room was quiet. Most were looking sullenly but he could clearly see Baladas and Ilmeni Dren, newly introduced councillor of the Redoran, smile. Balen Omal of House Dres looked especially annoyed. Who could blame him though, when most of his House’s fortune relied on the very thing just abolished.

Just then the door to the Council chambers opened with a loud crash. Everywhere in the room Varvur saw guards reaching for their weapons and on instinct he did the same. Men rushed at the door to stop whoever it was that forced his way in like this. Servants scattered, Councillors either drew their weapons and advanced on the door, or stood silently muttering phrases to incantations. Varvur found himself on the other side of the table faster then he could remember moving before and was ready to fend off any threat.

But as swift as the tension had risen, Varvur felt himself relaxing again, for there in the door stood but one person, the jester who had recently washed ashore. A small Mer, even for a Bosmer, he took to wearing fancy and very colourful clothes and was obviously simpleminded. He limped into the chambers, wearing his hat with bells ringing and clutching his juggling balls protectively. They were the only things with him when he’d been found by one of the healers of the Imperial Cult, or, well the only healer of the cult that remained in Ebonheart. The jester had been found with nothing else, not even clothing on his back. And even now, some few weeks later, no one had even so much as been able to find out what he was called. All he seemed to want to do was juggle his balls. Some said they’d seen him at night juggling cats, but most people assumed those were just silly rumours.

This time though he did not have his usual smile, instead he looked terrified at all the weapons drawn on him and everyone who stood menacingly around him. It was the Captain of the Guard finally who gave the order for men to sheath their weapons again and who helped the jester up. He gently coerced him out of the chambers assuring him that no one wanted to hurt him or take away his balls, that he’d only come at a bad time.
After the door was closed and people were returning to their seats, it was lord Nerevar who spoke.

“Well, that was certainly.. interesting. Heh, I’m sure he never considered any time could be a bad time for cat juggling.“ Everyone in the room laughed. Varvur had noticed lord Nerevar always knew what to say to take the tension away from people. “Now then, on to more pressing matters. Councillors, what I’m about to speak on next will come as a surprise to some of you, but not to all.” Lord Nerevar paused to drink from his cup. “This past month I’ve been looking into many events of the past few years and have found evidence of corruption in every house, and on every level.” Lord Nerevar paused as if thinking how to continue; standing behind him Varvur was unable to see his eyes, but from the expressions of the councillors closest by, something appeared to be amiss. Then Varvur saw lord Nerevar bend his head slightly and look down at his cup, and knew at once he’d made a terrible mistake. He rushed forward and was just in time to catch Nerevar when he crashed to the ground. Turning him around, Varvur looked into the eyes of the man who had saved him from certain death, the man whom he had sworn to protect or die trying, and from the vacant stare, knew that he had failed. He’d forgotten one of the basic things he had been taught; when there’s a crowd, don’t just look at the busy place, never forget to look at the quiet places as well.

Around him Varvur heard voices, many voices casting healing spells, calling for a healer, praying to one god or another, but all Varvur could do was stare into those now vacant eyes.

Ahhh Alex my friend! So good to see another great piece of writing from you. This is really a very good start, I notice you use dear Varvur as one of your "specials" That pleases me a great deal. Your interpretation of Varv differs from mine, and that makes it intriguing. I'm glad to hear you'll be updating frequently.....

S.G.M

Chapter 2. Losing a friend.

Baladas Demnevanni knew he’d remember that moment for the rest of his life. The day had started normally enough, if you could call any council meeting with former enemies normal. Slavery was gone, abolished. Well there was no surprise there; Divayth Fyr had told him after the last council meeting that this would come. And even before that, since first meeting lord Nerevar, Baladas knew it was only a matter of time before he made this ruling. Baladas himself had not kept slaves for many centuries. He assumed none who had even spoken to Divayth Fyr, really spoken to him, would have wanted to keep slaves afterwards. So, slavery had been abolished, and then all of a sudden with a big bang the door had swung inwards.

He assumed, just as most people would, that after so many peaceful council meetings, the peace would be disturbed by an attack. But the tension left quickly dissipated. It had only been the silly Jester with bad timing. Everything settled down again, but then just as lord Nerevar was starting on his next item, corruption, he fell quiet and a look of both shock and surprise crossed his face. Baladas knew something was wrong; the moment he saw that look he knew something had happened. And then, when lord Nerevar had looked down to his cup, Baladas knew. He didn’t want to know, he didn’t want to even consider it, but he knew all the same. Lord Nerevar had been poisoned and would not live another hour.

As lord Nerevar was falling to the floor, Baladas saw the lord’s bodyguard rush forward to try and catch him. He was rising at the same moment, chanting incantations of healing and rushed forward, pushed Ilmeni out of the way and knelt above lord Nerevar. He cast his spell, and then another, and then yet another, but lord Nerevar did not so much as stir. Baladas stood up, looking down at lord Nerevar, still clutched by his bodyguard.

He hadn’t felt this powerless since being trained by Divayth Fyr, many centuries before, but right now he did feel helpless and powerless. If only he’d been more attentive; any retainer could have seen through this diversion, but he a true Telvanni master had fallen for it; hook, line and sinker. How he would be able to return to Divayth and explain how he’d allowed such a good friend to die, while he was in the same room, he did not know.

He also didn’t know how long he’d stood there; he saw the bodyguard finally letting go of the body of his lord, and that the priests were already casting spells to preserve the body. He noticed the glazed over look in the guard’s eyes, and he also saw Ilmeni look at him. With a determined stride the guard walked out of the chambers, apparently heading towards his own room. Ilmeni was fast trailing behind him, calling his name, but the guard didn’t seem to hear her.

Baladas was torn; he was pretty sure what the guard was going to do, and on one hand he did not mind at all, good riddance to a bad bodyguard. On the other hand however, it was the son of the Redoran Grandmaster and if he could do the Redoran a favour, who knew what it would be good for in the coming, sure to be trying, months.

His instinct was correct; as he walked into the room of the guard, he saw him with a blade in his hand, obviously intent on cutting himself. Ilmeni was trying desperately to use all of her weight to hold back the one hand holding the dagger. Baladas quickly stepped forward and held on to the arm as well. At the same time he muttered an easy spell, and the guard relaxed his body all at once. A simple sleep spell was often enough to take out even an experienced warrior, especially when the warrior was unprepared.

Taking the blade away from him, he helped Ilmeni put him to bed. Ilmeni thanked him, of course, though she also managed to stay as far away from him as she could without appearing impolite. It wasn’t something Baladas was surprised at. There were but a few people in Morrowind who felt confident enough to be in the same room with someone the likes of him, or Divayth Fyr, or some others he could name. Oh well, if that was the price of power, Baladas was more then willing to pay it.

Leaving the late lord Nerevar’s bodyguard in his bed, with Ilmeni watching over him, and after promising he would send Ilmeni’s servants to her if he should happen to see one, Baladas returned to the council chambers. They had removed the body of lord Nerevar; it was probably already lying on the Imperial Cult altar downstairs. At the long table two priests were trying to bewitch the cup Nerevar had been drinking from. Likely they were trying to determine what poison had been in the juice and track down the perpetrator that way. At the other side of the room, the Captain of the guards here in Ebonheart and the Dres representative, a Vizier by the looks of it, were questioning the guards. Baladas knew that would prove fruitless. He’d been at the back, looking at all the guards and most of the servants, they’d all been looking at the door and had all seen the same thing. They had also turned back around at the same time. No, nothing would come from that.

Baladas also knew he would have to bring word of this to Divayth Fyr as soon as possible, but leaving now would appear suspicious to say the least. It was a well-known fact that Telvanni didn’t shy away from using poisons to get ahead in their house. Instead, he turned to the two priests examining the cup and offered them his assistance. Again, that apprehensive look shot his way; under different circumstances it might have brought him joy, but not now. The priests agreed, and Baladas waited until the priests had tried what they could, and then cast his own spells.

He spent the better part of the afternoon casting spells on that dreaded cup; in the end he was nearly ready to throw the entire thing out the window. For some reason, none of his spells, and none of the priests’ spells, gave them any information. No poison presented itself, no anomaly was detected; for all they could tell it was pure and 100% Comberry juice. The only thing Baladas could think of to explain this was that somehow the poison must have been added before the Juice was made, perhaps as early as when the ingredients were growing on the land, maybe in the water used to water them. That would certainly make it appear as if no alien substance was present, if nothing was added but the juice itself, his best spells would be useless.

He was taken out of his ponderings by the Captain of the guards who came up to him and asked him the same questions he’d been asking people all afternoon.

Hm, using the jester as a diversion was a cunning move. I liked the desperation described in the council chambers afterwards and how you detail the expression of the councilors as they listen to Nerevar's reforms. Great work thus far. Spewing out updates like a machine gun though, can be a little daunting for readers. I've learned that the hard way.

Ahh! But readers enjoy this if they read behind the machine gun and in a bunker! no?

A genius story if you ask me! So please ask!
The death of Lord Nerevar was absolutely perfect! Such tragedy tied in with the poor bodyguard. It was GENIUS!!!

You used the different perspectives skillfully and I applaud that greatly. I never read a story that had be hooked on chapter 1. But! You have!!! I can't wait for more!

By the way, if you want to drop a bomb instead of shooting sing shots, that is fine with me! lol

Well, the story is already finished and over a hundred pages. So if I update it twice daily, with two pages each time, I figure in about 25 days the entire story will be here. I don't want to draw it out too long



hehe, nope, no bombs in my story

awwww :'(

Ahaaa....hmmm...so Lord Nerevar's story ended that way? Interesting I may say! I'm so glad updates will come rapidly, 'cause this will be an interesting plot, can't wait 'til the morrow when next chapter will be up!

I am very glad that Alexander decided to return to writing; this story is quite a masterpiece. The varied points of view make for a fascinating narrative structure, given that each person brings their own perspective and history to the events that they observe. It was an honor to be asked to proof this work; and any typos, spelling, or punctuation errors are my own.

Fine work, Alexander

Wow, I wasn't expecting a successful assassination attempt. This certainly changes things and it's going to provide a neat twist for the rest of this tale. Excellent work.

“Do you remember what you saw? Explain exactly what you saw. Was there anything out of the ordinary, anything unusual?”

And by the looks of the Captain, Baladas was right in assuming he was adding nothing new, and that everyone before him had said the same thing, because the Captain finished questioning him after only a few minutes. He was told the funeral would be held, as custom dictated, in four days time. He was also asked to bring the news to Great House Telvanni; all of the representatives were expected to inform their Houses of the events that had transpired there today.

That was what Baladas had feared most. Divayth always seemed like an even- tempered man, and most of the time he was, but sometimes he could react to something with a fury that would send a Daedra prince running. He remembered the story told by Felen Maryon, another old apprentice of Divayth’s, how Divayth had come to Tel Branora after he heard how Therana had insulted lord Nerevar when he asked to be named Hortator. It wasn’t pretty, and afterwards there was very little left of Therana to bury.

What would Baladas do if that fury should be turned on him? What could he do against the powerful master Fyr? Nothing most likely. Should Fyr become upset and take it out on him, there was nothing Baladas could do but die. And perhaps that was more than he deserved, he who had let something happen to lord Nerevar.

“Well, better get it over with,” he muttered to himself and chanted the words that would bring him to Tel Fyr.

He did not arrive inside Tel Fyr; Divayth had warded the tower so strongly that only those who possessed items Divayth Fyr himself had enchanted with Recall could teleport inside. Baladas looked at the door to the Tel. Opening it, he walked into the Tel, greeted Beyte Fyr, who was cooking downstairs and then turned to the right. Walking up, entered the Hall of Fyr, flew up to the first floor and went into the left room.

He stopped for a moment; ahead of him at the table he saw Divayth, but it would seem he was not alone. Three people were sitting at the table. On the left side he saw Divayth Fyr in his Daedric armor and radiating power, truly an impressive sight. But on the right side sat a figure no less impressive, Dhaunayne Aundae, Ancient of the Vampire clan Aundae, one of few people who might actually be older then Divayth Fyr. But what really got his attention was the figure sitting in the center. He was wearing a black robe, black gloves and his entire head was covered by a black hood. Baladas believed from the shape of his body that it was likely a man, very tall and powerfully built. But what most excited his interest was the power he felt. If Divayth looked powerful, this figure was absolutely radiating with it. Every pore of the man seemed to be oozing with pure power, and Baladas knew that anyone attuned to the aura of magic could likely become intoxicated with it just from standing next to that hooded figure.

It took all of his power, but Baladas was able to avert his eyes and look at Divayth.

“Master Fyr, I have failed. I was right there, in the same room, but I did not see it, and was not able to protect him.”

“And now lord Nerevar has died.” It was not a question, but rather a statement by Master Fyr.

“Yes.”

“Do not blame yourself, Baladas. Some things are simply meant to happen; none can stand in the way of destiny. But please, tell us everything that happened, both before and after the death.”

Baladas told them everything, from the Jester drawing attention away, to the look in the eyes of lord Nerevar, and everything afterwards. When he had finished, the three people at the table were silent. Baladas could see them considering all his words carefully. Not waiting for a response, he boldly asked,

“If you have no more questions, I’d like to get word out to other Masters and the Supreme Magister, and then go look for this Jester. I plan to ask him some very pointed questions about his involvement in this.”

Divayth looked at him and said, “No Baladas, that will not be necessary. From what you told me, the Jester is truly feebleminded and would not be able to aid you no matter how hard you tried. No, but I do have a different assignment for you.”

Without thinking, Baladas interrupted him, “But Master Fyr, we can’t just sit by and let the killer get away. We must act now before his trail runs cold.”

Divayth replied in that gentle commanding voice of his, “No Baladas, you are right, someone has to investigate this event, and someone has to get to the bottom of you, but it is not you. You were wise to save the bodyguard of lord Nerevar, and I’m sure he will prove very useful in tracking down whomever is responsible for this. You however, are needed elsewhere.”

“Likely even now, the other Great Houses will be looking to take advantage of this. There was a reason lord Nerevar was killed, and the people trying to hide something by ending his life will likely present themselves in the coming days. I fear Morrowind is in for some trying times, and I for one will not sit by and be washed away by the tides of change, nor will House Telvanni if I have a say in it, and in fact, I do.”

“I want you to travel to Tel Uvirith, Tel Aruhn and then Sadrith Mora. From Sadrith Mora send messages to Tel Branora, Tel Vos, Firewatch, Velothi’s haven and even Port Telvannis. Invoke a Great Telvanni meeting. Be sure to tell them in the message that I would be most displeased should any Master or even the Supreme Magister fail to show up. The time will be two days from now, so two days before the funeral of lord Nerevar, I expect everyone to meet in the Council house in Sadrith Mora. No one else may be present; the entire house must be cleared save for the Masters and the Supreme Magister. Do you understand?”

“Yes lord Fyr, I understand, and will leave at once.”

Baladas’s troubled look did not go unnoticed by Divayth, who added “Don’t worry Baladas, I know lord Nerevar was your friend. He was mine too. Whoever did this will pay for it, trust me, but for now we cannot have Masters wandering Morrowind and Azura knows what other places looking for an assassin, not with what will likely be troubled times ahead.”

The words made Baladas feel at least a bit better, so he took his leave from the three people, and set out for Tel Uvirith.







Divayth watched Baladas leave. He felt sorry for him, but he knew it could not be helped, not for now anyway, not if they wanted to pull this off. Baladas had to act the part, else things might come crumbling down before they had started. He turned back to his two companions at the table and nodded at the hooded figure.

“So it went exactly as planned.” Again more a statement then question.

“Yes,” came the reply, “everyone played their part very well. And of course let’s thank Dhaunayne, without whom we could not have accomplished it at all.”

Dhaunayne inclined her head in thanks and spoke, “Now we start the second phase of the plan. I shall return to Ashmelech and will be in Sadrith Mora in two days. Have you been able to find the one, Divayth?”

“Yes.” Divayth replied, “I’ve suspected him for a long time, and my suspicions have been confirmed.”

Hm, suspicions start arising from the discussion Fyr is having with the vampire lord and the black-robed man. And a meeting between all Telvanni lords is planned. Sweetness! Perhaps Lord Fyr is planning to slay them all as they gather in Sadrith Mora? Or perhaps he has made an arrangement with Aundae to have her vampires do the dirty work? They are, after all, the most magically skilled of all vampires.

Hmm, so who's the black robed man I wonder? And why is our old friend Divayth Fyr so calm about it? And a Vampiric Elder? An Elder of the Sorcery based Vampire Clan Aundae at that....

Why do I get the feeling sorcery has been used here. At the assasination misdirection was used to accomplish their goals. I'm just beginning to wonder whose goals they were in fact, and who exactly has been misdirected. I suspect it may well be us

Looking very good indeed so far, looking forward to this continuing!

Uhhh..sweet Azura! It's getting more and more thrilling! Divayth in the cooperation with vampies? gosh...And the power-man? Who might he be? Lots of (still) unanswered questions.....mmmmm

Chapter 3. The hatching of a plan.

Helseth was pacing in his throne room in Mournhold. If anything had happened he should have been informed by now. And something had better have happened this day. Helseth recalled all the previous gifts and money that had been sent back by Eno Hlaalu. Each time with a polite note saying the writ could not be made, nor carried out, and never a reason given. This time, though, Helseth had sent Eno an offer he couldn’t refuse. Or so Helseth assumed anyway. He’d been anxiously waiting for these past few days, and the gift had not been sent back. Now it was the day of the council meeting and still nothing had come back, but also no messenger saying is was done. Helseth assumed it was only a matter of time.

He was proven correct as a royal herald announced the arrival of Raynasa Rethan. She was a newly appointed Hlaalu councillor, appointed by Vedam Dren just before he left for Cyrodiil, but unbeknownst to him, she’d been in Helseth’s back pocket ever since entering house Hlaalu.

“My king,” she smiled broadly, “I bring grave news- lord Nerevar has been killed.”

Helseth had trouble containing his own smile, but knew he had to. He was in the presence of the captain of his guards, a righteous man left over from the reign of the previous king. So instead of howling with pleasure as he wanted to, he solemnly replied,

“This is grave news indeed, councillor Rethan. Thank you for bringing it to me yourself.”

Out of the corner of his eye Helseth observed the captain casting a troubled look at his first man. They knew this would not make things easy in Morrowind.

“Captain, I require your man Drusus for an assignment.” The captain bowed in obedience and the king motioned for Drusus to follow him. With the guard on one side and councillor Rethan on the other, Helseth strolled back to the reception area of the palace. There he dismissed the people present and turned to look at Drusus. He took the heavy pouch hanging from his belt and gave it to Drusus.

“Take this; use it to bribe councillor Yngling Half-Troll. Convince him the only future of house Hlaalu lies in handing control over to me. When you have his support, travel to Omani and Ules manors and persuade those two hags of the same. No money is required; a stern word is more then enough to get them in line, that and the fact that two other councillors will already be voting for me. Then when you have their support, in writing of course, take all the mandates and visit Councillor Curio in Vivec. Ask leave to stay as his guest and propose he relinquish control over house Hlaalu to me. He’ll likely refuse, but that is to be expected.”

“And what would you have us do with Councillor Bero?” Raynasa asked.

“Now Dram, Dram is someone we’ll never convince. No matter how much money or lands we offer him, he won’t join us. No, I have something else in store for councillor Bero. A lesson which will teach him honor means nothing, only money counts. Go Drusus and Raynasa, and win me my first Great House.”

Helseth was very pleased with himself; things were finally moving along nicely now. It was only a matter of time now before the whole of Morrowind would be completely under his control, as it should be. For what is a king with no country to rule?

Helseth made his way to the throne room and asked his Guard Captain to send word to the leaders of the other Great Houses, that he wanted a word with them the day after tomorrow, and that he expected all of them to be there at noon.

As he was getting ready to go to his rooms for the night, a soft voice behind him spoke,

“Helseth, Helseth my dear boy, is it true, has someone killed that sweet man, lord Nerevar?”

Helseth sighed and turned to the voice, “Yes mother, someone saw fit to end his time on Nirn. But please mother, you shouldn’t be out of bed; the priests told you to rest, did they not?”

If they hadn’t Helseth would have their livers for lunch, he thought.

“Yes, yes they did tell me, but you know how they are, son. Those priests together are worse then a wet nurse when it comes to worrying over someone. I’ll be fine, son.”

Unfortunately so, Helseth thought. It seemed lately that Barenziah was becoming far more alert again. Somehow she seemed to be developing immunity against the poultices of the priests. Helseth made a note to himself to speak to them about that. It simply would not do to have his mother running around the palace asking all sorts of embarrassing and dangerous questions about the goings on.

“Come now mother, let’s get you to bed shall we?” He took Barenziah’s hand and led her to her bedchambers.

After he’d put her to bed, and was standing over her, he felt an urge to put a pillow over her head and be done with it. He was able to contain himself, though. Having the queen mother turn up dead suddenly simply wouldn’t do. Especially since she was ever so popular. If it hadn’t have been for lord Nerevar interfering that day, after Helseth had hired assassins to do the job, he would now be rid of his meddlesome mother. Afterwards lord Nerevar had hinted at suspecting that Helseth had given the order for that kill, but fortunately the one person who could have testified against him had already been dead by then. Ironically killed by lord Nerevar a week before.

That had been a blow to Helseth. After he’d gone through so much trouble to find a place to stay for the Dark Brotherhood, and gotten the Morag Tong out of Mournhold, he’d had almost a private force of assassins at his disposal. They had performed such great services for Helseth, not only securing his throne, but also making sure any nobles who became too vocal in their objections met some “unfortunate” demise. Helseth had had no way of knowing lord Nerevar was so far beyond the Brotherhood’s abilities. Twice they’d come after him, and twice he’d fended them off. Then he decided to come to Mournhold himself and, after disposing of the Brotherhood, stuck his nose in business not concerning him in the least. He had done Helseth a favour though, when he killed Almalexia. Helseth had suspected for a while by then that Almalexia was losing it, but how can you ask a Dark Brotherhood assassin to kill a god? The money it cost alone would have bankrupted Morrowind, not to mention the chance that not only might the assassin be caught, but also that Almalexia would have wrung the truth from him and come after Helseth.

Helseth shuddered at that thought. But then this lord Nerevar had come along, disposed of the god, neutralised the Tribunal temple, for the time being at least, and brought Mournhold firmly under control of Helseth. If only lord Nerevar had been more pliable, if only he’d been more open to common sense and reason, but no, he had insisted on not only pursuing the abolishment of slavery, but also wanted to battle corruption. It, unlike slavery, was something Morrowind, or at least Helseth, could not do without.

Again Helseth sighed. He hadn’t wanted to do it; well maybe he’d wanted it a little, but he’d have preferred a different way. Alas, lord Nerevar was incorruptible and inconvincible.

I like your updates and chapters thus far. The different Point-of-View characters are very well done and they all give out their thoughts very well, each having their own style of doing things and personality, from Varvur to Baladas to Helseth. I like how Helseth constantly plans to do away with his mother, giving her poultices by way of his priests to make her senile. Very evil of him. I like Helseth though, he is the cruel leader who does whatever it takes to stay in power.

These POV characters however gave me a hunch you've been reading A Song of Ice and Fire while you were writing this. Am I correct?

I should know, since I've been reading some of the books myself over the past few days and your chapters so far "reek" of Song of Ice and Fire. That's very, very good though. Matching up to masterclass fantasy books is no meager feat.

Heh, well funny that you mention it, I did finish re reading ASoIaF in December, and wrote my own story in January, so I guess I that did give me the idea of different POV's.

Oh boy, Thank you for comparing my work with those books, but honestly I don't think I could stand in mr Martin's shadow, let alone match up to his work

Well, of course you couldn't. But I'd like it if people compared my own works with famous or even semi-famous books. Treat others as you yourself would like to be treated. That's how the saying goes at least. So far I've only been treating others but who knows? Maybe in the future, others will treat me how I've treated them.

Anyway, I'm really happy for you. I'm in a grudgingly awful situation right now. I've read A Game of Thrones two times until now and I already own A Storm of Swords. The problem is, I can't really find A Clash of Kings. I've read 2 chapters from A Storm of Swords until now, both of them about Jaime (one of my favourite characters btw) and already have been spoiled regarding some things which happen in the second book. Things about a certain candidate for the post of King of Westeros. A Renly chap. Anyway, that's really too bad for me but that's what you get when you feel an incontrollable urge to read a brilliant book which is right in front of you.

It'll be really hard to stop myself from reading A Storm of Swords before getting A Clash of Kings, but I'll do whatever I can. It'll be similar to how those Oriental martial arts masters impose self-control upon themselves.

oh boy, quite a tight spot you're in. Have you checked online stores for ACoK? Might be asking the obvious but still.

Hmmm call it a hunch but I think there's some misleading going on here. At the moment it appears that we have two shady groups, Helseth and Fyr with his company. Just because Helseth was told that Nerevar was killed, it doesn't mean that it was his efforts that achieved that result. My hunch tells me it was done by someone else.

Since I'm putting my focus there, I can't wait to see how my prediction turns out. To have multiple fronts of corruption would certainly mean that this story is going to turn into a bloody mess (and I mean in the good, multiple forces colliding at once type of mess).

Expect the unexpected.

Maybe it wasn't even successful?

Nice touch with the 'vanishing' poison. Maybe it wasn't even poison at all. Maybe it was so deliberately prepared no one in Nirn could've predicted it [or, few people entities ]. The jester part is also nice touch. How long has he been in Ebonheart? What could've been his purpose of running into that room - distraction, or premonition of what's about to happen?

In any case, nice so far. Lots of questions waiting to be answered. The pace is also good [2 updates/day].

I'm liking it, nice background you've laid down too.

And a lot of intreage and politics and backstabbing.

And regular updates.

This is a real treat.

Two days later, Helseth was joined in his throne room by Meven Aravel, the Gahprovihn, or faction leader, of house Indoril; Orval Relarys, the Viceroy of house Dres; and Drothal Moven, the Supreme Magister of house Telvanni. While Helseth had summoned Athyn Sarethi of house Redoran as well, that noble sent word that he would not be able to make it. Helseth took this as a sign of defiance and a personal insult, but then he took most things that didn’t go his way as personal insults. He looked around the room, looking each of the men present in their eyes. He’d spent a fortune in gold, jewels and gifts on each of these three to ensure their cooperation. A fortune now, land later.

“Gentlemen, smart of you to come. I hope you fare well.” Helseth never waited for an answer when he asked that, but simply pressed on. “Good, good. Now, on to business. Meven, how are things going with that witness?”

“My king, I’ve asked and pressured everyone that was in that room, but no one was willing to testify against the Redoran. That Sarethi brat must have made quite an impression on people if they will stick up for him this much.”

Helseth cast a stern look on Meven, “So you mean to tell me out of all the guards there, none are willing to testify?”

Meven’s silence spoke clearly enough. Helseth sighed, “Fine. I will find someone. ‘When you want something done well, do it yourself,’ is how the saying goes, right? Now then, on to you, Magister Moven. How go the preparations with house Telvanni? Will you be ready?”

“My king, things are going as planned; I’m convincing the masters we should expand further, and those who oppose it I will take care of before we start.”

“Excellent, Moven.” Helseth turned around to look at Orval Relarys, “And how is house Dres? Are you ready to go to war when I give the order?”

“Ready and waiting, my king.”

Helseth smiled; he had expected it wouldn’t work out for Meven, so now by taking over the task himself, he had only made Meven more eager to please next time. Everything else was going according to plan. “Ok, tomorrow night we have the funeral. Of course we’ll all be there to offer our deepest condolences, and stand side by side with the other great houses, but three days afterwards, we’ll make our move. Now you all remember of course what you’re supposed to do. But just to be sure, let’s go over it one more time shall we?” Helseth hadn’t meant it as a question. “Ok, first house Dres will present a witness, saying he or she saw Varvur Sarethi put poison into lord Nerevar’s cup when everyone was looking the other way. Now Dres is the only house right now whom the commoners would believe; Indoril is tainted with corruption, Hlaalu has never been trusted since siding with the Empire, and Telvanni, well, they’re Telvanni. No one would believe anything they had to say.”

“So, Varvur will be taken in, questioned, he will confess in front of as many people as possible, but then sadly die as a result of too harsh questioning. Though no one will object to the murderer of lord Nerevar dying himself. Before he dies, however, he will name names of corrupt Indoril nobles, that awful Drulvan Vules first and foremost, all of his allies and retainers as well. We may pardon some, provided they pledge their lives to us, but most will die. This clears house Indoril of all taint and will severely discredit house Redoran. We will proclaim that Varvur killed lord Nerevar on orders of his father, Athyn Sarethi, and will declare house Redoran dead, with all of their lands, income and titles to be distributed among the other houses. Telvanni will join us simply to have fun killing people, and to claim some more land, Hlaalu because I order them, and Indoril and Dres to avenge lord Nerevar.”

“We will offer the Telvanni land on the west side of Morrowind, scattering them, and then proclaim them in league with the Redoran and destroy them. Even with their powers, they cannot hope to best three great houses going against them, not to mention the guilds that will join us. In the end, only three houses will survive, and we will reshape Morrowind and share it between us. And of course you Magister Moven, will get the best prize of all, the island upon which Port Telvannis rests, all to yourself as your own sovereign kingdom.”

Hah, Helseth thought to himself, if that fat pig Moven thinks he’s getting anything out of this but the pointy end of a blade, he’s a bigger fool then I assumed. After everything is done, Moven will be the last to die.

“So, is everything clear? Does everyone know what to do?” The three men muttered their agreement. “Good, then be gone, prepare yourselves for the funeral and more importantly, prepare for the days after the funeral.”

Chapter 4. Aftershock.

Several days had passed. Varvur did not recall getting up from beside the table in the Council Chambers, he did not remember walking out of the chambers or back to his own room. He did remember someone grabbing hold of his arm just as he was about to plunge his dagger into his stomach. It had taken several men, or women, to keep him from hurting himself. It wasn’t until someone had started chanting, and he’d started feeling very sleepy, that he let go of his weapon. When he woke he found his father sitting next to his bed.

Athyn had aged well. Still as tall and strong as he was in his younger years, all that seemed different was his face. A few more lines here and there, some grey streaks in his hair. He looked down on Varvur with those deep, knowing eyes and Varvur just broke out in tears. “It was all my fault, Father; I let him die; I should have tasted the comberry juice again. It should have been me lying there, not him. After everything he did for us, I let him down so much. Oh Father how can I face people again?”
“Yes Varvur, you should have tasted the wine, and you didn’t. Had you, I would have lost a son. Instead, I lost a friend. Neither is something I wanted.”
“Father, how can I redeem myself? Would not the best course be to take my own life, and make sure my family suffers no blame?”

Just then he noticed standing next to Athyn was a magnificent blade. He recognised it at once as he’d seen it so many times on the wall of the rooms of lord Nerevar; the ebony long sword given to Nerevar by Vivec after lord Nerevar destroyed Dagoth Ur. Varvur had always wondered if Vivec knew when he gave the sword to Nerevar, that just a few months thereafter he’d be slain with the same blade. Varvur looked up questioningly at his lord father. “With permission of the other house councils, I’ve taken the sword of lord Nerevar. We wish it to be your tool to redemption. Varvur, listen to me, you cannot bring back lord Nerevar. You could die yourself, but what purpose would that serve? One thing you can do, however, is bring the murderer of lord Nerevar to justice. Take this blade and with it, slay those who slew lord Nerevar, the man who gave the order and all who knew of it and did nothing.”

Athyn stood up. “The guards here have looked for clues but found nothing. I assume will you do better. Tonight we hold the ceremony for lord Nerevar’s funeral. Pay your respects, and then redeem yourself through justice. I will see you tonight and after that, again once you’ve brought justice.” Varvur swallowed hard at that; he knew what his father was saying. He would not be welcomed back at his ancestral home until justice had been served. But at the same time he knew what he had to do. “Very well Father, I will see you this evening.” As Athyn left the room, Varvur heard him say “Good luck.”

Varvur spent the rest of the day meditating. His teachers had taught him inner rest is as important as skill with a blade for a warrior. Concentration comes through inner rest and, without concentration, a warrior had better find a different profession. So meditate he did, allowing his thoughts to travel back to that dreaded day. He went past all the events that day, and after considering things carefully, he decided whatever had happened, must have happened when Jester entered. He had to question Jester. Somehow, someone must have known Jester would interrupt at some point, and thinking on it further, it must likely have been timed at that exact moment, just before Nerevar could name names, so either the mysterious Bosmer was much more than he appeared to be and had been able to fool everyone, or someone had made sure he would enter at that moment by almost physically pushing him in.

And of course there had to have been someone else, someone who put whatever it was into the cup of lord Nerevar. Varvur reviewed the events that transpired after the door was knocked open. All the councillors had been in front of him, facing the door. So it could not have been any of them. All the guards as well. No guards stood at the back wall behind lord Nerevar and Varvur, an arrangement Varvur had himself made. So Councillors and guards were out. That left the heralds and the servants. He remembered the heralds rushing to a side exit but he did not recall seeing the servants. Assuming the heralds had not done it, which was a good assumption based on their placement in the room, there were 4 servants. The servants had circulated throughout the room even while Nerevar was speaking; Varvur had not marked their locations as carefully as he should. Before he gave in to despair and self-recrimination, he recalled his father’s words. Justice must be served. In fact, it was even possible that the plotters had hoped that Varvur would take his own life, an action which would have hurt his father, one of Nerevar’s most loyal supporters. His duty was clear- he must live, not only to thwart the enemy, but to bring him to justice.

Varvur decided to question the servants first thing in the morning.

After freshening up and changing his clothes, Varvur made his way to the courtyard. He had decided to wear lord Nerevar’s blade as a message to the assassin. A large crowd had gathered in the courtyard already, men and Mer of all races together. Argonians stood next to Altmer, Orcs beside Bosmer, Bretons, Imperials, Dunmer, Khajiit, and Nords all were present. As Varvur walked through the crowd he felt the stares from all around him. He walked past most to stand at the very front of the crowd, next to the leaders of the Great Houses, Crassius Curio taking the place of absent Vedam Dren. And at the very centre, he saw king Helseth standing with his royal guards surrounding him. As Varvur approached, he saw Helseth looking him over. And he definitely noticed the sneer on his mouth, and the almost mocking expression in his eyes. Varvur was glad he had meditated; just a little less concentration and he might have done something that he would regret. Not very much, but a little anyway. The thought made him smile, until he looked at the coffin displayed before them.

It was a large solid stone slab. probably weighing a ton. Carvers had carved the likeness of lord Nerevar on the top of the coffin as was customary in western lands. Dunmer preferred to burn their dead, but then lord Nerevar had obviously not been Dunmer. Inside the coffin Varvur knew lay the body of the now dead Nerevarine, Hortator of three great houses, Lord Nerevar reborn. Varvur had always wondered why lord Nerevar had never sought out houses Indoril and Dres to become their Hortator. Perhaps he had simply lacked time to make such a journey.
The Ceremony commenced, a long line of great men and women all sharing their tales about lord Nerevar. Ashlander Ashkans and wise women compared him to the moon and stars, Divayth Fyr recounted how he had at first thought lord Nerevar was a burglar interested in looting his dungeon, Patriarch SaOmayni told how wrong he had been before to outlaw teachings other than those the Tribunal approved, and how glad he still was that lord Nerevar had shown him the way. And so many more. The Nerevarine had touched many lives in Vvardenfell and beyond.

Last in the long line came the king himself. Helseth started by saying how sorry he was to see such a great man go. And how much he had admired lord Nerevar in life. Varvur had no doubt that quite a few people had to force their faces to remain straight at that. Helseth went on:

“People of Morrowind, hear me. As we said, a great man has died this week, but we shall not forget him, he shall never be forgotten here. It was brought to our attention that before he died, he abolished slavery. As a last salute to him we will ratify his decision. We, king Hlaalu Helseth, first of our name, hereby officially outlaw slavery. Slavery is no more and every slave owner is required within a week to release all of their slaves and allow them to leave their land. They may keep everything that they own as they leave.”

“Now I realise just before he died, lord Nerevar was going to announce the names of people he knew were corrupt and taking bribes. Unfortunately it doesn’t appear as if he’s written any of that down. Varvur, you were with him so often, do you know of anything he left? Perchance he’s left some things in your protection, as we all know how good you are at protecting things, eh?”

Wonderful! It's a sheer joy to read this story...I'm speechless...(And that's a miracle per se! )

All this plotting is making me cry... LOL!!!
I am enjoying this story very much!
Even though I'm terrible with Morrowind historical whatever!!!

And thank you very much for the regular updates! It's like reading a good book!

Well that was a particularly nasty jab by Helseth there, hehe! Good way to end an update if I do say so.

I can see Martin's trademarks everywhere. The "first of his name" bit is taken from ASoIaF, since that's what heralds say each time they introduce Robert Baratheon or Joffrey Baratheon. So is the ending jab by Helseth. Martin has a way of ending all his chapters with good ending phrases. Kind of like what you did here. Still, ASoIaF transposed into Tamriel is good in my book. I really liked Helseth's plan and how he described the Telvanni as psychopathic lunatics intent on killing people for fun. The ending jab was also brilliant.

Heh, well we are aren't we? I mean psychopathic lunatics intent on killing people for fun. Some of us are anyway

It took all of his self control that time, and a long look from his father. Varvur felt his hand on the blade, but seeing the royal guards reach for their weapon he quickly let go of the hilt. ‘I will get you for that one; one day I will get you for that Helseth,’ he thought to himself. What he said was something very different of course.

“Unfortunately not, my liege, though he told me many tales while I was here, nothing was put onto paper. Rest assured though, I will find those responsible and bring them to justice. In fact, I’ll present their heads to you personally. With your permission of course.” And at that he made a deep bow.

Sneering, the king turned his back on Varvur and finished his speech by wishing lord Nerevar blessings in his new life.

With that the ceremony was at an end, the priests using spells would now move the coffin into the prepared tomb just outside of Ebonheart where lord Nerevar would rest forever.

As the crowd dispersed, Varvur spotted the captain of the guards who was present when it happened. “Captain, a word with you if I may; this will only take a minute.”

“Fine, but be quick about it then.”
“All I want to know really is the names of the servants who were present when it happened, and where I can find them.” After Varvur had written down everything he needed to know, he went back to his room to lie in his bed.

Questioning Jester was impossible. The Bosmer was sitting on his bed, with his feet tucked beneath his body and rocking back and forth like a madman. He spoke in jibberish, and all the intelligible thing he said was “I was only trying to help, just trying to make them laugh.” Clearly Jester was scared senseless and would be no help to Varvur.

The first two questionings of servants proved to be fruitless. Tuvene Arethan was a Dunmer who had served in Ebonheart for many years now. She couldn’t stop sobbing during Varvur’s questioning and it seemed all she could remember from that night was being scared silly by a door pounding open, and then hearing the lord had died, upon which she had fainted. The second was Ruccia Conician, an Imperial lady who said little more then “Please don’t kill me, I didn’t do it, please don’t end my life, I‘m innocent.” The third person, however, a very nice Khajiit lady who had just moved to Ebonheart, did have some more information. She had taken residence in part of the now nearly abandoned Imperial Cult Chapels. She had nothing new to tell about what happened in the council chambers, but she did swear she’d seen a boat sailing away on the night of the murder. She had gone to look out the window not long after she’d gone to her room, and saw a boat sailing due east.

Now Varvur approached the place where he would find the fourth and final witness. For some reason he’d chosen to live in the Six Fishes Tavern in central Ebonheart. Varvur was almost certain what to expect, but he was still glad when he found his instinct hadn’t left him yet. The room of the fourth witness was very clean, too clean almost, as if someone had made sure to leave nothing behind with which someone could identify him. The bartender there wasn’t sure when he’d last seen the man, all he knew was that he’d been an Imperial, had payed 2 months in advance and made no trouble. And, the bartender added, that was all he needed to know. Varvur was pretty sure he’d found his man, and pretty sure he knew who had been in that boat. When he checked with the harbourmaster though, no boat matching the description of the Khajiit had been seen for at least a month.

The answer came to him while was questioning a guard who was on duty during the evening of the assassination.

“Yeah I had duty that night. Yeah I saw an Imperial walk past. It was when everything went nuts up there, all the screaming and yelling and everyone shouting lord Nerevar had died. I remember rushing up the stairs and an Imperial was coming down. I looked behind me before I turned the corner and saw him entering the small Imperial Shrine here. I do remember thinking to myself how odd that was, as I thought I’d locked it and the only other key is with the captain.”
“Could you open the door for me,” Varvur asked, “ I’d like to take a look inside.”

“Sure, so long as it doesn’t put me into trouble.”

The room was very small, really little more then 4 small walls and an altar near the centre. Varvur looked over the altar to see if there was something odd about it, but couldn’t detect anything. Walking along the walls he also saw nothing out of the ordinary, or did he? He didn’t see anything, but he felt something. At the joining of two walls in a corner he distinctly felt a light breeze. After he felt around, he found a line running there, a separation of the two walls. And more importantly, he found a hidden lever. Pressing it moved part of the wall aside to uncover a door.

Drawing his blade, he opened the door and found himself in an underground cave. He saw some of the foundation of Ebonheart so he concluded he must be right beneath it. Exploring the cave did not give him much more information, but when he was just about to walk back, he noticed there appeared to be a platform of some kind, some way above the ground. Clinging on to a few projecting rocks in the wall, he climbed to the top and found a small hidden camp. Someone had obviously spent some time there, he thought, as there were plenty of supplies lying around. Most of them appeared to have been prepared especially to remain good for a long time. Whoever had been living here did not want to rush himself.

The second discovery came when he noticed some air bubbles coming up. Still water isn’t supposed to have bubbles popping up like that. Discarding his armour and leaving it at the water’s edge, Varvur went into the water and followed the bubbles. He was lead to a small underwater door that when he went through it, led him just outside Ebonheart to a small cove, secluded from everyone, even from people looking at it from Ebonheart, a place where one could easily store a boat.

He knew he’d just come one step closer to finding the poisoner.

Great story so far, Alexander. I especially like the size of each post. It's perfect in my opinon; not too long, but not too short either. By the way, did you get my PM?

Unfortunately I won't be here tonight at the time of the usual update, so I'll give it to you a few hours early. This is the first part of one of the chapters I enjoyed most when writing it. I think if you read it, and consider how much of a fan of the Telvanni I've been since the first time I started playing Morrowind, you can figure out why


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Chapter 5. The more things change…..

Baladas looked around the room. All the powerful Wizards, Lords of the Telvanni, gathered in one room, and none had even tried to kill each other yet. That alone was a testament to the power and influence, and likely dread, Divayth Fyr commanded. Only he could keep all of them from killing their peers.

Everyone had come, Mistress Dratha of Tel Mora, Master Aryon of Tel Vos, the wizard Uvirith of Tel Uvirith, Master Maryon of Tel Branora, successor to the late mistress Therana. Master Empor of Firewatch, Mistress Arala of Velothi’s haven and of course Supreme Magister Moven of Port Telvannis and theoretical head of Great House Telvanni. Theoretical, because when he stood in the same room as Divayth it was clear the Supreme Magister was not even the equal of Lord Fyr’s shadow. He was too afraid even to look into the eyes of Divayth, let alone speak up.

Divayth therefore spoke “Welcome, fellow Telvanni. Welcome also to our esteemed Supreme Magister.” Baladas thought he heard an sarcastic note when Divayth said the word ‘esteemed.’

“My fellow Telvanni, as you all know, grave things have happened. Two days ago, lord Nerevar was poisoned, poisoned in front of the entire Grand Council. Well, almost the entire council, anyway. I am certain the events that will follow will leave their mark on Morrowind for many years to come. But I also have another matter to discuss. Corruption.”

Baladas noticed the Supreme Magister take a step back at the word ‘corruption.’

“Before lord Nerevar died, he was about to announce the names of a number of people trying their best to work with an unknown person to bring down Morrowind. We are Telvanni, so bribery and plotting comes naturally to us, but until now at least we’ve kept it inside our house. Now it would seem outsiders are trying to influence our house.”

And quicker then Baladas’ eyes could register it, Divayth raised his hand, and threw a frost spell straight at the Supreme Magister. He tried to get away, but it was too late. The frost ball engulfed him, and froze him on the spot. Divayth slowly walked up to the Magister, looked him in the eyes for a moment, and then punched the now frozen wizard as hard as he could. On impact, the ice shattered, and with it the body of the Supreme Magister. Pieces of him flew everywhere around the room and Divayth had a smile on his face.

Divayth spoke to the assembled Masters who were mostly still in shock over what they’d just seen. Not that it was uncommon for a Master or even Magister to “step down” like this, it was in fact more usual to be killed then die of old age with the Telvanni, but it wasn’t usually done with such a large and impressive audience nearby.

“What you’ve just seen is the fate of a traitor. I have evidence which I will show you at the end of this meeting, proving beyond a doubt that our beloved and dearly departed Supreme Magister was actually being paid by King Helseth. Not only was he to limit the Telvanni in any way he could, he was also an informant. For the past year we’ve been wondering how it could be that Helseth always proved to know things we were planning before we carried them out, and this is the answer. A traitor.”

“I meant what I said- from now on, the office of Supreme Magister is no more. The Archmagister will lead Great House Telvanni from now on.”

Baladas was the first to call out, “Hail, Archmagister Fyr,” and others almost immediately followed suit, but Divayth raised his hand.

“Though I thank you for your confidence in this, I have no interest in becoming Archmagister. No, instead, allow me to present you with the new Archmagister.”

Suddenly, a figure appeared next to Divayth Fyr. It was the same hooded figure Baladas had seen in Tel Fyr two days past. Baladas felt scared, not a feeling he was used to. A room filled with the most powerful Wizard Lords alive on Nirn today, and no one had sensed that another person was in the room with them. That alone was a testament to the power of whoever this was.

Divayth spoke on, “Unfortunately, for a number of reasons, your new Archmagister right now is a man of few words, no words to be precise. But he has entrusted me with instructing you. You are all to obey the last wishes of lord Nerevar. Some of you have already freed your slaves; the others will do so as soon as they get back from this meeting. Free them, and allow them to return to their homes if they so wish, but you are also instructed to offer them something different. Ask them to serve you for the coming two years, as warriors, messengers, builders, whatever needs be done. And in return, after those two years, you will repay them with a piece of land for their own, money and the right to live as equals among Telvanni everywhere.”

Some muttering followed that; not every Telvanni was as progressive in thought as Divayth, Felen, Baladas and Aryon. Quite a few were still using slaves to work their egg mines and other mines.

“Be silent!” Divayth said. “My fellow Telvanni, trust me when I say this; we are in for a very exciting year. I promise you, even now Helseth is sitting in his palace in Mournhold plotting against us. It would not surprise me if he accused us of killing lord Nerevar as an excuse to seize our lands and rid Morrowind of House Telvanni. I for one will not allow that to happen. Will you?”

A chorus of ‘No’s’ came in answer.

“Well then, here is what we are going to do. I’m sure you’re all somewhat familiar with the Ghostfence and the way it operated, when it was still operating, that is. It channelled the power of the honourable dead and that power was used to create a shield, a shield that kept Morrowind safe from the threats of the blight, and Dagoth Ur. After years of study, I’ve found a way to recreate the pillars used for the Ghostfence.”

“We will create many of them, and place them along the new border of Telvanni lands, then activate them. From then on, we will be able to live our lives as we want to, without having to bend the knee to Helseth or any other would be ruler of Morrowind.”

Baladas spoke up, “But Master Fyr, in days past the Ghostfence relied on the city of Necrom for power. It’s deep inside Indoril territory; how will you wrest away control, let alone hold it?”

“Leave that to me,” came the reply. “For now, what I want you all to do is this. Return to your homes, free the slaves as ordered, and try your best to convince as many as you can to stay and serve. Also, arm and ready all of your forces. Mercenaries must be removed from your cities, for none who could be a spy may be allowed to stay. Be certain that all in your force are true Telvanni. The day after the funeral of lord Nerevar, we start our campaign.”

Coming along very nicely so far, but who is The Hooded Man? I guess you'll let us know sooner or later (I hope sooner, darn these cliffhangers!), but in themeantime I shall simply enjoy the ride you take us on. I certainly am so far

Well, as to the identity of that person, at least one reader has provided me with an ah... interesting theory. However I fear untill the end of the story, that will have to be one of my best kept secrets

Aww, dang

In any case, I don't share author's enthusiasm about the Nine-damned Telvanni. But no matter - story is progressing well so far and it's interesting to see Fyr get his hands dirty. Or a bit frostbitten & bloody, to be precise.

I liked the meeting between the Telvanni and how Fyr instructed them all according to his liking. Naming that mute guy as Archmagister seemed like a fairly odd decision to say the least. Still, Fyr must know what he is doing. I also liked seeing Helseth's plans foiled, knowing that the Supreme Magister really was a traitor and all.

What can I add that's not been said already?...

The Mystery Man will keep me from sleeping tonight though......

A MASSIVE SHIELD!!!!!!

Oh, that is absolutely wonderful! Truly a genius move and I applaud!
It's good to see that king not get what he wants!

hmm why can't I open a new topic...

You need to make a few posts first. We've had problems with bots in the past and doing this was a method of getting them to stop posting unwanted threads.

Back on topic: I can definitely see why you enjoyed writing this update Alexander. It's got quite of bit of everything: violence, intrigue, mystery, suspense, drama. What more could a reader ask for?

“And before you go, there are two small items left to deal with. In times past, the rank Magister was there simply as a declaration of war on the then ruling Archmagister. No more. Our new Archmagister has seen fit to turn it into an official rank, indicating a Master who shall always speak with the voice of the Archmagister and must therefore always be obeyed. He has seen fit to grant this new title to two people among you, myself, and Magister Baladas.” That was definitely not something Baladas was expecting. “And for our final item, again in times past, people have seen fit to rise in House Telvanni through murder. From this day forward, until the end of the coming war, that practice is outlawed. Any Telvanni attacking another Telvanni will be punished severely by the Archmagister, or one of his Magisters. No Telvanni will prosper through murder of his kin during these times. Only after everything has been settled will the Archmagister review this and possibly reverse the policy.”

“I realise all of this might sound very un-Telvanni to you, but drastic times call for drastic measures. So until things settle down, we will all act very un-Telvanni.” Baladas looked across the faces of the other Masters; many were casting doubtful looks; they, like him, were likely wondering if these measures were really necessary or not. But then Divayth got some support from an unexpected source;

“It seems to me, Divayth,” Dratha spoke, “That this is in fact very Telvanni like behaviour, to use your phrase. In the past, the strong have always decided what was best for house Telvanni, and it seems to me this is no different. And since I would not presume to be able to best the lord of Fyr, I will return to my lands and free my slaves.”

After that, other Masters spoke in support of the plan. It seemed with those few words, mistress Dratha had made things far easier to accept for all.

As the Masters left one at a time, Baladas saw Divayth motion to him to stay behind. When all the others had left and Divayth had restored the spell surrounding the room, he spoke to Baladas, “I realise this must sound very odd to you, Baladas, but please believe me there is no other way. I know some plans of King Helseth, and if we are to survive as a Great House, we must act now before it is too late. We will discuss this further three days from now. The day after the funeral, come to my Tel and we will be there. We will discuss all the steps we’re going to take with you then. Until such time however, this is what we want you to do. Spend your two days travelling between the different Telvanni towns here on Vvardenfall. Make sure all the Masters are doing everything they need to do, and if not, make sure they will. I will do the same for the cities on the mainland; especially Port Telvannis will need much coaching I think, and rooting out the other Hlaalu spies will be trying. We must be ready in two days time- do you understand Baladas? We must be ready.”

Baladas said he understood. And that he would do all he could to make sure the Vvardenfall cities were ready.

It proved to be a very sad funeral. Funerals always are, Baladas reflected later, but this one had been extra sad. So many great people spoke highly of lord Nerevar and all he had accomplished in life. Everyone had a story, Baladas too. He recalled to the assembled how he had first met lord Nerevar, that day Nerevar had walked into Arvs Drelen, and asked to know everything Baladas knew about the disappearance of the Dwemer. Baladas found lord Nerevar to be smart, intelligent, intuitive, and a quick study. Within just a few days, Baladas had to admit there was nothing left to teach. Like a sponge, lord Nerevar had absorbed everything he’d been told.

The low point of the funeral of course was when Helseth spoke. But then Baladas found any moment spent listening to Helseth a low point. He did start off surprisingly, by declaring every slave should indeed be freed. Few men had been expecting that, Baladas was sure, but at the same time, perhaps the reason Master Fyr had ordered the Telvanni to release their slaves, was because of this. Now there was a scary thought- was Divayth actually able to read people’s minds? Baladas didn’t know, but he did know he would have to be extra alert from now on. Before long of course Helseth once again showed the world his true face, insulting the young bodyguard, Varvur his name was. Baladas at one point saw him reach for his weapon, no it actually looked to be lord Nerevar’s blade he was carrying, but luckily at the last moment he was able to control himself after all. Bloodshed at a funeral, the gods did not look kindly on that.

Thankfully Helseth was done speaking, and the ceremony had also come to an end. Priests were enchanting the coffin of lord Nerevar and preparing to take it into his burial chamber. Unlike the Dunmer, it was the custom of lord Nerevar’s original people not to burn the dead, but to bury them whole, seal them in a coffin and place them under the earth. Baladas thought it folly; how was his spirit going to be able to arrive in the heavens if it was locked inside a coffin? But then lord Nerevar had never really been a religious man anyway.

Looking around at the departing people, Baladas thought he saw a glimpse of a figure in a black robe, but when next he looked at the spot where he thought he’d seen it, there was no one there. Was he imagining things now? Gods, he was really getting old now wasn’t he? He sighed, and cast the spell that would take him back to Sadrith Mora.

Fascinating. You really have me guessing. I like how you're depicting Fyr, that's a lot of magic that guy can do.

And I like the Telvanni, there's something really cool about them.

I'm wanting tonights update now.

Then by Azura ye shall have it