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.
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.
On to the next chapter
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.
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.
On to the next chapter