Chapter 6. Information
Tracking an animal over land is easy. Even when rain and storm have ravished the land, one can still see some left over prints. Tracking a boat however, is quite a bit harder. A boat doesn’t leave prints. Varvur therefore had no idea if he was going the right way. When he rented the boat he was now travelling on, and inquired which place was most likely to be one’s destination when travelling west out of Ebonheart, the answer had been Omayni, a city just a few miles from the coast, west of the Inner Sea and easily reached by land.
They’d been travelling for a day now; the wind wasn’t helping them at all, and were just coming to the small peninsulas that can be found just off the coast there. The outcrops were small, rugged and uninhabited by all save some few mudcrabs. Sailing past them they came into view of the land and there Varvur felt lucky for the first time. On the beach, in clear view, were the remains of a small boat, looking exactly the way the Khajiit servant in Ebonheart had described it. It had obviously been there for a few days already; the fire that had charred it had long gone out and everything inside had been blackened by the fire.
Getting out of the boat, Varvur thanked the captain for bringing him there, and wished him a safe journey back. He approached the wreckage of the boat and searched what was left. Unfortunately he was unable to find anything useful. No clues, no left over things that might give away any information about the man or woman that had used this craft. And the most annoying part of it all, was that nowhere in the vicinity of the boat did Varvur find any tracks. No recent ones anyway. Oh he found many old ones, tracks made by Argonians, Dunmer, Orcs, Khajiit but no recent human tracks. The frustration was almost overwhelming. To be so close to what he knew he was looking for and finding nothing. Then he recalled lord Nerevar’s words, spoken during one of their many conversations regarding their hidden enemies.
“Patience is the hunter’s greatest virtue. A careless movement or loud exhalation of breath can frighten the prey. That is especially true if the quarry knows it is being hunted.”
At once saddened and reassured by the remembered advice, Varvur decided the best thing to do would be to travel to Omayni and inquire there. Luckily Omayni was a Redoran controlled city, so he should have no trouble finding information there. The trip proved uneventful, except for a small gang of highwaymen who tried to stop Varvur, for some reason assuming they could get some gold from him since they outnumbered him 5 to one. After he had killed three of them, and wounded another, the last one had no problem allowing him to pass and forgetting about the “your money or your life” line he’d only just before uttered.
Omayni was a typical Redoran town, with buildings made in the shape of crab shells and centered around a temple complex. Not nearly the size of Ald’ruhn, but definitely larger then Gnisis. The garrison complex stood at the far side of the gates, and Varvur wasted no time in going there. The guard at the front desk looked sullenly at Varvur, and was probably just about to ask him his business, or even worse, tell him to move along. “I am Varvur Sarethi and wish to speak to your captain.”
With that he showed the bored guard his family’s amulet just to make sure there was no doubting he really was who he claimed to be. The change in the guard’s demeanor was remarkable; it was interesting watching him attempt to sit at attention while disposing of the remains of his meal.
“My lord, I am captain Mallam Ryon, how may I serve?”
“A few miles up the coast you can find a burned boat. A man came from it and presumably headed here. He was human- Breton, Imperial or Nord- although short for a Nord if he was a Nord, with fair hair, dark eyes and dressed most likely as a servant. Tell me captain, have you seen such a man?”
“My lord, I will look up all the log files of my men and question them to see if one of them might have left something out, something trivial. But there are some patrols out who are a few days travel from here. Getting word to them, and getting them back here, will take a while. My apologies, my lord, might you consider staying in my home until such time as everything has been examined? It would be my honour to house you as a guest.”
“I’m afraid days isn’t good enough, captain. I wish to depart the day after tomorrow at the latest. I’m sorry, but the longer I wait, the more likely the man is to get away from me.”
“Of course my lord; we will do our best. Please, I will have my servant here show you to my home.”
Varvur followed the servant to a small mansion. Inside the people must have gotten word already that he was coming as servants were standing by with refreshments and ready to take his armour and weapons from him.
“Don’t worry my lord; we will place all of this in your room.” Walking around the house, Varvur was impressed. For a captain of a small city like this, Mallam was certainly able to decorate his house nicely; either he was up to his ears in debt, or most likely, he had come from an old family. But for some odd reason Varvur could not remember ever having met the Ryon family, and he’d certainly accompanied his father to see all the old families of House Redoran at one time or another.
A short while later, as it was turning dark outside, Mallam came home. Varvur had just been speaking to the captain’s wife, a very beautiful Dunmer called Felisa Ulessen originally, now of course she was called Felisa Ryon. Her conversation revealed a quick mind as well as a generous spirit, for she mentioned that she spent quite a number of years helping the mentally challenged. Varvur looked up just as Mallam Ryon was entering the room, and for a moment thought he saw a surprised look cross his eyes, but only for a moment. Before Varvur could be certain, Mallam was smiling widely and welcoming Varvur into his home. “I hope my lady wife has been a pleasant companion so far my lord.“
“That she has captain Ryon, that she has. She was just telling me about the charity work she has done, with the mentally challenged.” Mallam raised an eyebrow at that.
“Yes, I fear you must forgive her; I’m sure my lord would be much more interested in other things and I’m afraid talking too much has always been my wife’s weakness.”
Varvur found that an odd line of thinking, but made no mention of it. The last thing he wanted to do was create tension between a Mer and his wife. He didn’t have much time to ponder that though, because at that time servants entered with dinner. Mallam seated himself next to his wife, opposite Varvur and gestured for Varvur to take the first piece of the meal. It proved to be deliciously cooked Netch flesh, with some spices to make it even better. The servants also kept replenishing his cup. Cyrodiilic brandy of the best kind; again Varvur noted the apparent luxury for a captain. But even that thought washed away after the fourth glass. While the first three had been potent, the fourth had somehow seemed even more intoxicating, and Varvur found it increasingly hard to focus his thoughts, let alone keep his eyes open.
It did not go unnoticed- Captain Ryon repeated a question, but Varvur simply couldn’t remember what had been asked. He felt so sluggish; he couldn’t remember having felt this way before and it was all he could do to keep his eyes open. “My lord, you seem awfully tired, perhaps it would be best to retire now, here, my servants will help you to your rooms. I realise the day must have been more tiring then you thought.”
That was the last Varvur could remember until he woke up. He was lying in a comfortable bed, in rooms he didn’t recognise. Slowly coming to he realised he must have been in the rooms of Captain Ryon’s house. Even the guest rooms were lavishly decorated, with ancient expensive carpets, beautifully crafted vases and furniture. Varvur felt very groggy, and found he still had trouble focusing his thoughts. He remembered the dinner, and feeling so very tired after that last glass of brandy. Of course, there must have been something in the brandy. Slowly sitting up, he spotted his armour, clothing and weapons in a corner of the room. They had all been cleaned. At least no one had taken them away. Getting up and dressing himself proved difficult, but Varvur was able to manage. Someone must have heard him, for the next moment a servant arrived and asked if he needed anything. Varvur asked to be brought to captain Ryon, who he found sitting at his desk in his study.
“My lord, how good to see you’re finally awake.”
“Captain, how goes the search; will you be able to have all the information I asked for tomorrow as promised?”
“My lord, we finished the search yesterday;, you’ve been asleep for three days. You must have been very tired. I even had the town priests look after you to make sure nothing was amiss.” Had he really slept for three days? That was awful, how could that have been? Unless, unless there really was something in that brandy. Yes, Varvur realised that was the only way this could have happened. Damn. How could he have been so stupid? He’d known there was something odd about captain Ryon the minute he set eyes on him. Something just didn’t seem right with him, the home so lavish for such a small time captain, the look in his eyes, the things he said. Varvur felt himself grow nervous. There was little he could do about the captain; he didn’t have any proof of this, and if the temple priests had come to him and examined him, surely they must have noticed he had been given something to sleep, and why wouldn’t they have said anything? Unless they too were part of some plot. And which guards could he trust? No. Better to get whatever information this captain Ryon would give him and leave. He would contact his father the moment he got away from here and tell him there were traitors in Omayni.
“Well Captain, what did your search find?”
“I’m so sorry my lord, but we found nothing. A patrol did find the burned boat you mentioned, but by then it was already too late, no one was found near it. No tracks leading away from it, and no patrol has seen any strangers moving about for the last week. Nor has anyone entered the city in that time. I’m sorry, my lord, but it seems whoever was on that boat did not come anywhere near Omayni.”
“Thank you for your effort captain. I’ll be sure to speak highly of your cooperation and your good care of me when next I speak to my father.”
“My lord is too kind, I did but what any good Redoran would do. Would you not share a meal with me before you go?”
“No Captain, thank you for your offer but I really must be on my way. But thank you, and thank you lady Ryon for all your good care.” With that Varvur took his leave. He wanted to get out of there as fast as he could without raising any alarm. He was able to exit the gates with no trouble, but found himself looking over his shoulders all the way back to the coast. Now what, he wondered. It was obvious that he would get nowhere trying to track the poisoner, and not just that, now he had the job of getting to a reliable messenger as soon as possible to tell his father of traitors in Omayni. The best place to do that he concluded would be Veranis Hall another small city located north-west of Omayni and ruled by a noble. The noble was a cousin of his father and a confidant of the family. Varvur knew he would have to travel fast, with very few rations, but saw no other option. Besides, near Veranis Hall there were more methods of transportation and wherever he was going next, he needed reliable transportation.
It took Varvur all of that day, and a bit of the next but at noon on the second day he came into view of the Veranis gatehouse. One of the guards recognised him at once, and brought him before his father’s cousin. Balen Sarethi was a powerful man, standing very tall for a Dunmer, and while age was creeping up on him, it did not show. He still looked to be in the prime of his life and, after hearing what Varvur had to say about Omayni, he looked ready to march on the town all by himself and eradicate the traitors. He also recalled the curious circumstance under which the last Captain of Omayni died- killed by a Nix hound while he was hunting them, when all of house Redoran knew what a superb hunter the captain had been. Still, with so many witnesses, no one ever thought to look into it further. “Balen, where do I go now? I have no idea where the assassin sped off to, so how can I avenge my master’s death if I don’t know where the assassin went?”
“Varvur, when I was a lot younger then you are now, I was attacked by a snake. Before I knew what had hit me, it was coiling itself around me trying to suffocate me. Your father saved me from it by cleaving the head of the snake right down the middle. I remember he told me something then, he said, ’Remember, when you fight a snake, don’t trouble yourself with the body, for it but serves the head. Attack the head and you’ll win the day’. Perhaps Varvur, that word of advice can also be used in this situation?”
Varvur smiled, knowing what Balen meant, and Athyn before him. Now the trouble was which snake’s head to go after. As he was considering things carefully, he said goodbye to Balen and went in search of transport to Vivec.
On to the next chapter
Tracking an animal over land is easy. Even when rain and storm have ravished the land, one can still see some left over prints. Tracking a boat however, is quite a bit harder. A boat doesn’t leave prints. Varvur therefore had no idea if he was going the right way. When he rented the boat he was now travelling on, and inquired which place was most likely to be one’s destination when travelling west out of Ebonheart, the answer had been Omayni, a city just a few miles from the coast, west of the Inner Sea and easily reached by land.
They’d been travelling for a day now; the wind wasn’t helping them at all, and were just coming to the small peninsulas that can be found just off the coast there. The outcrops were small, rugged and uninhabited by all save some few mudcrabs. Sailing past them they came into view of the land and there Varvur felt lucky for the first time. On the beach, in clear view, were the remains of a small boat, looking exactly the way the Khajiit servant in Ebonheart had described it. It had obviously been there for a few days already; the fire that had charred it had long gone out and everything inside had been blackened by the fire.
Getting out of the boat, Varvur thanked the captain for bringing him there, and wished him a safe journey back. He approached the wreckage of the boat and searched what was left. Unfortunately he was unable to find anything useful. No clues, no left over things that might give away any information about the man or woman that had used this craft. And the most annoying part of it all, was that nowhere in the vicinity of the boat did Varvur find any tracks. No recent ones anyway. Oh he found many old ones, tracks made by Argonians, Dunmer, Orcs, Khajiit but no recent human tracks. The frustration was almost overwhelming. To be so close to what he knew he was looking for and finding nothing. Then he recalled lord Nerevar’s words, spoken during one of their many conversations regarding their hidden enemies.
“Patience is the hunter’s greatest virtue. A careless movement or loud exhalation of breath can frighten the prey. That is especially true if the quarry knows it is being hunted.”
At once saddened and reassured by the remembered advice, Varvur decided the best thing to do would be to travel to Omayni and inquire there. Luckily Omayni was a Redoran controlled city, so he should have no trouble finding information there. The trip proved uneventful, except for a small gang of highwaymen who tried to stop Varvur, for some reason assuming they could get some gold from him since they outnumbered him 5 to one. After he had killed three of them, and wounded another, the last one had no problem allowing him to pass and forgetting about the “your money or your life” line he’d only just before uttered.
Omayni was a typical Redoran town, with buildings made in the shape of crab shells and centered around a temple complex. Not nearly the size of Ald’ruhn, but definitely larger then Gnisis. The garrison complex stood at the far side of the gates, and Varvur wasted no time in going there. The guard at the front desk looked sullenly at Varvur, and was probably just about to ask him his business, or even worse, tell him to move along. “I am Varvur Sarethi and wish to speak to your captain.”
With that he showed the bored guard his family’s amulet just to make sure there was no doubting he really was who he claimed to be. The change in the guard’s demeanor was remarkable; it was interesting watching him attempt to sit at attention while disposing of the remains of his meal.
“My lord, I am captain Mallam Ryon, how may I serve?”
“A few miles up the coast you can find a burned boat. A man came from it and presumably headed here. He was human- Breton, Imperial or Nord- although short for a Nord if he was a Nord, with fair hair, dark eyes and dressed most likely as a servant. Tell me captain, have you seen such a man?”
“My lord, I will look up all the log files of my men and question them to see if one of them might have left something out, something trivial. But there are some patrols out who are a few days travel from here. Getting word to them, and getting them back here, will take a while. My apologies, my lord, might you consider staying in my home until such time as everything has been examined? It would be my honour to house you as a guest.”
“I’m afraid days isn’t good enough, captain. I wish to depart the day after tomorrow at the latest. I’m sorry, but the longer I wait, the more likely the man is to get away from me.”
“Of course my lord; we will do our best. Please, I will have my servant here show you to my home.”
Varvur followed the servant to a small mansion. Inside the people must have gotten word already that he was coming as servants were standing by with refreshments and ready to take his armour and weapons from him.
“Don’t worry my lord; we will place all of this in your room.” Walking around the house, Varvur was impressed. For a captain of a small city like this, Mallam was certainly able to decorate his house nicely; either he was up to his ears in debt, or most likely, he had come from an old family. But for some odd reason Varvur could not remember ever having met the Ryon family, and he’d certainly accompanied his father to see all the old families of House Redoran at one time or another.
A short while later, as it was turning dark outside, Mallam came home. Varvur had just been speaking to the captain’s wife, a very beautiful Dunmer called Felisa Ulessen originally, now of course she was called Felisa Ryon. Her conversation revealed a quick mind as well as a generous spirit, for she mentioned that she spent quite a number of years helping the mentally challenged. Varvur looked up just as Mallam Ryon was entering the room, and for a moment thought he saw a surprised look cross his eyes, but only for a moment. Before Varvur could be certain, Mallam was smiling widely and welcoming Varvur into his home. “I hope my lady wife has been a pleasant companion so far my lord.“
“That she has captain Ryon, that she has. She was just telling me about the charity work she has done, with the mentally challenged.” Mallam raised an eyebrow at that.
“Yes, I fear you must forgive her; I’m sure my lord would be much more interested in other things and I’m afraid talking too much has always been my wife’s weakness.”
Varvur found that an odd line of thinking, but made no mention of it. The last thing he wanted to do was create tension between a Mer and his wife. He didn’t have much time to ponder that though, because at that time servants entered with dinner. Mallam seated himself next to his wife, opposite Varvur and gestured for Varvur to take the first piece of the meal. It proved to be deliciously cooked Netch flesh, with some spices to make it even better. The servants also kept replenishing his cup. Cyrodiilic brandy of the best kind; again Varvur noted the apparent luxury for a captain. But even that thought washed away after the fourth glass. While the first three had been potent, the fourth had somehow seemed even more intoxicating, and Varvur found it increasingly hard to focus his thoughts, let alone keep his eyes open.
It did not go unnoticed- Captain Ryon repeated a question, but Varvur simply couldn’t remember what had been asked. He felt so sluggish; he couldn’t remember having felt this way before and it was all he could do to keep his eyes open. “My lord, you seem awfully tired, perhaps it would be best to retire now, here, my servants will help you to your rooms. I realise the day must have been more tiring then you thought.”
That was the last Varvur could remember until he woke up. He was lying in a comfortable bed, in rooms he didn’t recognise. Slowly coming to he realised he must have been in the rooms of Captain Ryon’s house. Even the guest rooms were lavishly decorated, with ancient expensive carpets, beautifully crafted vases and furniture. Varvur felt very groggy, and found he still had trouble focusing his thoughts. He remembered the dinner, and feeling so very tired after that last glass of brandy. Of course, there must have been something in the brandy. Slowly sitting up, he spotted his armour, clothing and weapons in a corner of the room. They had all been cleaned. At least no one had taken them away. Getting up and dressing himself proved difficult, but Varvur was able to manage. Someone must have heard him, for the next moment a servant arrived and asked if he needed anything. Varvur asked to be brought to captain Ryon, who he found sitting at his desk in his study.
“My lord, how good to see you’re finally awake.”
“Captain, how goes the search; will you be able to have all the information I asked for tomorrow as promised?”
“My lord, we finished the search yesterday;, you’ve been asleep for three days. You must have been very tired. I even had the town priests look after you to make sure nothing was amiss.” Had he really slept for three days? That was awful, how could that have been? Unless, unless there really was something in that brandy. Yes, Varvur realised that was the only way this could have happened. Damn. How could he have been so stupid? He’d known there was something odd about captain Ryon the minute he set eyes on him. Something just didn’t seem right with him, the home so lavish for such a small time captain, the look in his eyes, the things he said. Varvur felt himself grow nervous. There was little he could do about the captain; he didn’t have any proof of this, and if the temple priests had come to him and examined him, surely they must have noticed he had been given something to sleep, and why wouldn’t they have said anything? Unless they too were part of some plot. And which guards could he trust? No. Better to get whatever information this captain Ryon would give him and leave. He would contact his father the moment he got away from here and tell him there were traitors in Omayni.
“Well Captain, what did your search find?”
“I’m so sorry my lord, but we found nothing. A patrol did find the burned boat you mentioned, but by then it was already too late, no one was found near it. No tracks leading away from it, and no patrol has seen any strangers moving about for the last week. Nor has anyone entered the city in that time. I’m sorry, my lord, but it seems whoever was on that boat did not come anywhere near Omayni.”
“Thank you for your effort captain. I’ll be sure to speak highly of your cooperation and your good care of me when next I speak to my father.”
“My lord is too kind, I did but what any good Redoran would do. Would you not share a meal with me before you go?”
“No Captain, thank you for your offer but I really must be on my way. But thank you, and thank you lady Ryon for all your good care.” With that Varvur took his leave. He wanted to get out of there as fast as he could without raising any alarm. He was able to exit the gates with no trouble, but found himself looking over his shoulders all the way back to the coast. Now what, he wondered. It was obvious that he would get nowhere trying to track the poisoner, and not just that, now he had the job of getting to a reliable messenger as soon as possible to tell his father of traitors in Omayni. The best place to do that he concluded would be Veranis Hall another small city located north-west of Omayni and ruled by a noble. The noble was a cousin of his father and a confidant of the family. Varvur knew he would have to travel fast, with very few rations, but saw no other option. Besides, near Veranis Hall there were more methods of transportation and wherever he was going next, he needed reliable transportation.
It took Varvur all of that day, and a bit of the next but at noon on the second day he came into view of the Veranis gatehouse. One of the guards recognised him at once, and brought him before his father’s cousin. Balen Sarethi was a powerful man, standing very tall for a Dunmer, and while age was creeping up on him, it did not show. He still looked to be in the prime of his life and, after hearing what Varvur had to say about Omayni, he looked ready to march on the town all by himself and eradicate the traitors. He also recalled the curious circumstance under which the last Captain of Omayni died- killed by a Nix hound while he was hunting them, when all of house Redoran knew what a superb hunter the captain had been. Still, with so many witnesses, no one ever thought to look into it further. “Balen, where do I go now? I have no idea where the assassin sped off to, so how can I avenge my master’s death if I don’t know where the assassin went?”
“Varvur, when I was a lot younger then you are now, I was attacked by a snake. Before I knew what had hit me, it was coiling itself around me trying to suffocate me. Your father saved me from it by cleaving the head of the snake right down the middle. I remember he told me something then, he said, ’Remember, when you fight a snake, don’t trouble yourself with the body, for it but serves the head. Attack the head and you’ll win the day’. Perhaps Varvur, that word of advice can also be used in this situation?”
Varvur smiled, knowing what Balen meant, and Athyn before him. Now the trouble was which snake’s head to go after. As he was considering things carefully, he said goodbye to Balen and went in search of transport to Vivec.
On to the next chapter