Author's note: This is a brand new story, I'm sorry, but it's set on Vvardenfell. Every character in this is actually in the game, as is the location of this chapter, top marks to anyone who finds out where the following events occur. Without further delay, enjoy!.

The Ordinator.

"We can have no opinion about truth"-The Book of Dawn and Dusk

Daldrur pondered his circumstances. The interested look in his eyes, the engrossed appearance of his posture betrayed the truth, he had long since stopped listening to Raril, the bartender. "...He's got his bandit hideaway right between Ald Sotha and Bal Fell.." he droned.Daldrur merely nodded at the knowledge Raril was imparting upon him, again feigning interest with ease. Despite his placid appearance and slightly bored demeanour, Daldrur's mind was in overdrive. He was scanning the Cornerclub, looking for exits and entrances, assessing his surroundings.

"..The appalling neighbours keep traffic down..." continued Raril, fully convinced that his audience was nothing less than totally under his spell. Daldrur lowered his eyes to the bottle of flin which lay before him on the table. He could make out the vague outline of a scruffy Dunmer heading towards the door on its tinted glass. "Goodnight Felvos!" called out the over friendly bartender, but the poorly dressed drunkard was too busy wrestling with the doorknob to reply. "I'll let you out there Felvos" mused Raril, half to himself as he made for the door to let out his best customer.

"Damn fine singer that guy, damn fine. Poor swit has a bit of a problem with the mazte though. The only thing holding him back from his fortune if you ask me." the bartender informed Daldrur without looking at him. "Like my mother always said..." Raril stopped mid-sentence. Daldrur was gone. He rushed downstairs to find his elusive customer, but instead of finding him, he found a dead body, but not Daldrur's. It was another of Raril's customers, a Nord called Hylf the Harrier. Raril rushed to the lifeless corpse to help him, but he knew in his heart of hearts that there was no hope for the Nord.

A knife had been driven clean through Hylf's ringmail cuirass, into his heart at close range. Deeply traumatised by events, Raril collapsed onto the blood-stained floor and buried his face in his hands. It was then that he noticed a piece of paper in Hylf's dead hands. The murderer had placed it in his prey's hands after depriving him of his life. Raril nervously read the note. It was an honorable writ of execution.

Interesting, an Ordinator with a newly created hate for the Morag Tong.

Seems pretty good, too bad about the other story you wrote, hope inspiration comes more naturally to this one.

A good guess but not quite right. Everything will become clear in time. Just to clear things up though, the story is set after the events of Morrowind, so that might help you formulate theories.

One second...how do you stab someone with a dagger from long range?

Throw it like a javelin?

Super story, please continue.

A little vague, but I'm sure the answers will come in the next update, I hope? Anyway, so sorry to hear about the discontinue of the other story, and I hope you update soon! I would really like to see more of your writing, pweeeese?

By after the events in morrowind you do mean after Dagoth Ur was defeated right?

Coolies, i like it thus far.

Very nice, I am looking forward to the next installment.

While it is good to see a new story up, it is sad that you would prematurely end your other one.

Anyways, excellent work. I see a lot of potential with it. Not very often you find a story AGAINST the Morag Tong... or so it seems so far.

He ran downstars and stabbed him.




Yes. The connection to Daldrur will become clear soon.



So it seems....

Okay, just to clear up, Daldrur is in the Morag Tong, Hylf was a target and if you want to visualise the story, go to the Black Shalk Cornerclub in the Foreign Quarter of Vivec.

Strangely, when I read a Fan Fic. based in Morrowind I go trace their path with my character.
Visualization is very important to me...anyways this is good, please update soon. *Applause*

Part Two

"Hylf is dead."
"Very good Daldrur, well done."
"Any more writs for me?"
"None, I'm afraid. Perhaps if you return to me a week from now..."

Daldrur eyed Master Eno Hlaalu, he had always felt an air of pretentiousness emanating from the Grandmaster, perhaps it was his manner of speaking, perhaps his manner of dressing or maybe it was some unseen, unspoken thing which simply went with Hlaalu. In any case, Daldrur did not enjoy the company of his liege and wished to limit the times he had to meet with him, in length and in frequency.

Though these thoughts, among others, swirled through Daldrur's head, his eyes, his countenance and his voice did not for a second betray them to the observer. Daldrur merely replied in a monotone, as he always did.

"I'll be in Suran until then."
"Suran hmm? The Daldrur of the past would have had no business in that place I think."

Daldrur paused, taken aback by the depth of his masters knowledge, but quickly regained control.

"The Daldrur of the past built his house on lies, I no longer deny myself, nor do I blindly obey to no end. For years I have lived for myself, and no-one else and I have no reason to stop now."

Daldrur gave a curt nod to his...employer which was returned with a knowing smile, one that seemed to mock the things Daldrur had done everything to keep secret, as if an attempt to provoke the mer. Daldrur however seemed to have detached from his master's arrogance as he emotionlessly turned away from him and walked out the door.

It was good i like the new installmeant, your writing is very good, i'd like to see longer installments though i mean when we see that a new part has been added, it would be nice if it was longer. All in all though i like where this is going

Nice update, a bit short but thats not too bad.

As with Prisoner 54, you let us inside the character's head just enough.... I like the way he handled the "public" assassination of the Nord in such a way as to be unseen. Shall watch developments with interest.

Very nicely written. Good grammer and spelling and I'm enjoying the story. Keep it up.

Part Three

Daldrur's left eye flickered, then opened. It had been years since its counterpart had done likewise, not since a frightened Khajiit had taken it from Daldur and given him a five inch scar instead. Still, Daldrur was never one to complain, he had done far worse things to the Khajiit than she had done to him.

Saren stared to his right. The beautiful Nord Runa was lying next to him in a state of deep sleep. Daldrur had trouble recollecting the events of the previous night. It did not take long for him to discover the cause of his forgetfulness, as he soon saw the traces of moon sugar on his shirt. For a moment, Daldrur felt ashamed, recalling his once rigid, proud outlook on life, he then reminded himself that in the old days, his deeds were far worse than drug abuse.

Suddenly, the door knocked, a delicate knock, followed by a call of "Is Daldrur here?". As silent as the moon's journey through the sky was Daldrur as he seized his enchanted knife and his longsword and made towards the door. He hid behind it and stopped his breath as the doorknob was turned slowly, as if with caution and apprehension.

"Who sent you?" said Daldrur to the terrified Argonian he had seized as quickly as lightning strikes and placed a knife to his neck. After quite some pleading, the Argonian told Daldrur he had been sent by "their mutual master" on a matter "of utmost urgency" and confessed that he knew nothing more.

"Then we shall go together to Vivec, and if I discover you are lying I shall kill you, and I shall not kill you quickly" Daldrur told his terrified messenger. "Yes, yes I know that, he told us it is an Ordinator, a master warrior of Vivec" replied the messenger. Daldrur's right hand immediately went for his knife while his left grasped the pitiful thing by its throat. He lifted it completely off the ground and met it eye to eye. "I am not an Ordinator, and if you ever feel the desire to call me one again, I assure you, you'll never say anything to anything again." hissed Daldrur.

His eye turned to Runa who was now quite awake, and shaking with fear. Daldrur thew a purse of gold onto Runa's bed with no emotion in his eye. His brief outburst of rage seemed to have dissapated, as if it had never occurred, and now, in its stead was the usual emotionlessness for which Saren was known. He looked at the quivering creature at his knees. "Get up, we're leaving" he told it, and with that, he left.