The Tale of Sethyas Velas

Chapter four; An Assassin amongst us....

”Its easier not too be wise; and measure these things by your brains
I sank into Eden with you, alone in the Church, by and by
I’ll read to you here, save your eyes, you’ll need them
Your boat is at sea, your anchor is up, and you’ve been swept away
And the greatest of teachers won’t hesitate to leave you there
By yourself, chained to fate.”

“You look fantastic.” Said Bivale Teneran, the Ald’Ruhn Clothier, plus an also suspicious woman, something about her was just strange, I could’nt quite put my finger on it, perhaps she seemed a bit too interested in the daily gossip of the Redoran wives and daughters that shopped in her store.

“Thank you, Sera.” I said examining my new look in the full-scale mirror. I wore a Red Silk extravagant shirt with an uncomfortable collar, the shirttails falling below my expensive black pants, to compliment the look, I had my black gloves, and I wore the Dark Brotherhood boots, both for their light weight, and second they complimented my ability to sneak, without drawing to much attention to myself.

I was starting to adopt more of my houses customs, but blending them in with my trade.
Athyn had told me too give him some time to plan out his next moves, now two days later, it would be time to reconcile our alliance. So far I had moved underneath Bolvyn Venims nose, but the latest episode may well have had him smelling a rat.

“I spoke with Venim this morning, Sethyas. He was surprised that I survived the assassination attempt, though he did everything in his power to conceal it. I believe I may have convinced that I am finally relenting.” Athyn said to me, in a quiet voice in his personal chambers.

I lit up a Hackle-Lo leaf, and asked: “Relenting to what exactly? You’ve still yet to tell me what is going on.”

”Ah yes, I did promise you an explanation.” Athyn said taking a deep breath, and his eyes moving to another point in time. “Bolvyn and I are old friends, dating back two hundred years or more. On the mainland, we could not compete with the fellow warrior house Indoril. Our ways are too outdated, Indoril, too powerful. We vested within Bolvyn a hope for survival; we came to Vvardenfell, and claimed our share of the frontier lands.”

”Over time, as he grew in power, he also grew in arrogance and carelessness. There are things and crimes I am honor-bound not to repeat. But you may hear rumors from others, there are truth in the words.’

“Like the rumor that Venim is sleeping with Garisa Llethri’s wife? And that Garisa won’t do anything about it out of fear?”

He gave me a tight smile. “There are things I am honor-bound not to repeat.”

“So the ways of the Redoran prevent the Councilors stopping Bolvyn bullying them around……and Venims narrow-mindedness is running the house into the ground, and noone is strong enough to face him or challenge him? Is any of this ringing true, Athyn?” I said overstepping my bounds, by calling him by his first name.

“You are wise for one so young…”

“I am an Assassin, Athyn. I look for the hidden as the true path. I’m sorry, but the ways of the Redoran are not my ways. Why did you think I could have blended into House Redoran? If it were me in your shoes, I would use deceit and treachery to bring him down, THAT is my way. That may not be very Redoran of me, but there are alternate paths to mere brute force, paths like cunning.”

“And that is why you will be the one to lead Redorans Armies. Someone has to help me bring Bolvyn down, though the other Councilors and I have spoken at length about this, noone has had the courage to face Venim, I see now in you the light of Azura’s blessing on this house, but there are things that must be done beforehand, first we must make Bolvyn complacent and unsuspecting.”

”Things like you telling him that he won after the latest attack?”

“Yes, and things like silencing Ondres Nerano.”

”Who?”

“The Archmaster has given me the duty of sealing Ondres Neranos lips, he also spreads rumors like the ones you have heard about town. He is a Hlaalu Nobleman, living in Balmora, I am old, and may not be able to face off against him. Will you go as my representative?”

“With pleasure.” I said grabbing my Katana off the table, and stamping my Hackle-Lo out on the floor.

Three hours later, I was knocking on the door of Ondres Neranos Manor.

“Ho, look! A Visitor! And an outlander too! What may I do for you?” said the friendly mer in Extravagant Clothing.

I let myself in and looked about the place.

“Nerano Manor.” I said taking in all the furnishings.

“Yes, this is my home, why are you here anyway?”

“Slander.” I said looking at him into the eyes.

“Slander? Slander is telling a lie! Everything I’ve said about your House is true! You Redorans are to dumb to know the truth even when you hear it.”

“Regardless, I cannot allow the spreading of these rumors. Your choice how we resolve this.”

”Fine then, if you are not a coward as well as a fraud, I challenge you to duel, right here, and right now. We shall let our fists decide who is right!” He said taking a Rain of Sand martial art pose. Oh boy, he did not know what my background was.

I let him swing a few punches, merely slapping his fists away, after a while though it grew tiresome, and finally I grabbed one of his fists, and squeezed, the bones cracking in his hand.

As he fell to his knees in pain, I made a few swings of my own, each easily connecting with his face, and blood began to drip from his nose and lip.

“I relent ---OW! I said I relent!!!” he said in between punches.

“Sorry, couldn’t hear you with my fist in your face. So you take back what was said?”

”Yes! For the love of Azura, YES! Please just leave now!” he said nursing his right hand.

“I’ll need you to sign this first.” I said handing him a parchment that was an official retraction and apology, both in his name and the name of House Hlaalu. It was a major embarrassment to both him, and his House.

Truth be told I did not even much care, nor did I like acting as a bully for Venim one bit. I was not the type of person to go around threatening people, not unless the situation demanded it. Unfortunately this situation called for it.

He scribbled out his signature as best he could with his left hand, I looked at the signature. It was scrib scratches with a few droplets of blood. Very appropriate, yes Venim would like this very much.

“Ah yes, very well done, Sethyas.” Athyn said reading the parchment. “This will convince Venim that I am relenting to support him more. But we must also take out another loose end so that Venim has no more hold over me, you must clear Varvurs name. Speak with him and see what he knows. By the way hes been acting these last few weeks, I would suspect a spell of some sort.”

“You’re acting awfully sneaky for a Redoran Councilor, Serjo.” I said with an amused tone.

“I thought about what you said, and it’s true. I hate to think that I’m acting dishonorably but for the good of the house we must do what needs to be done; after all even Assassins can be both ruthless murderers and principled agents of a noble cause. I hope you are acting as the latter.”

”As do I, Serjo, as do I.” I said exiting Athyns Chambers to speak with his son.


“I-I don’t know…I could not have killed Bralen Carvaren. We have been friends since childhood. But….maybe Venim arrested me because….” Choked out Varvur Sarethi, whom had improved dramatically since his rescue.

“Because why, Varvur?” I asked him with a cautious tone, not wanting to appear unsympathetic, but I had to find out the truth of what had happened.

“Because, I’ve been having the most terrible dreams...I dreamt each night that I did kill him, each time in different setting, whether we were traveling the ashlands, swimming, or having a drink…I would lose my temper, and I would attack him with a horrible fury…”

“Just dreams? And all this prior to his death? I don’t mean to offend Serjo….but you’re certain that you did not kill him? Perhaps some of this ‘soul sickness’ the locals and the priests speak of? I have encountered those called ‘Sleepers’ before, they are driven mad by dreams sent by Dagoth Ur, and do not remember the next day anything that happened to them.” I said remembering the brief encounter I had with Raryn Radrys, this current situation echoing familiar with that one.

“If I did…I can’t remember….please.” he began to break down crying. “..he was my friend…I would never…”

I tried a different approach. “When did the dreams start, Varvur?”

He looked up into thin air, his wet eyes showing a spark of logic and remembrance. “…the statue…” he whispered, looking over to a small figurine on the shelf, my eyes followed his, and I saw it.

It was an evil looking thing, the shape was vaguely anthropomorphic, the body of it seemed like a wrapped mummy as no limbs were visible, but the head was all to familiar, as two jeweled eyes stared back at me from a shape that I had seen before, the four horns made an outline that was in the motif of House Dagoth.

I snatched the cursed thing off of his shelf, grateful to be wearing my gloves, as I was uncertain as to what made the properties of the reddish hue, I am hardly a wizard, but even I could sense the enchantment that tainted the statue.

“Where did you get this?” I asked Varvur.

“I can’t remember,…It was recently…” he tried.

“I need you to remember if we’re to clear your name Varvur. Did the dreams start the same time as you got this?”

“Yes.”

“All right, I’ll speak with your father, but in the meantime, I need you think and remember where you got this thing. All right?”

He nodded and layed back down, and I exited his room and returned too Athyn.

“What is this?” Athyn said with a curious tone as I handed him the statue.

I explained to him that it was most likely something to do with the sixth house, and that the symbol was too close to the House Dagoth Motif to be a coincidence, and that Varvur couldn’t remember where he got it from.

“This is most disturbing. Take this to Lloros Sarano at the temple, he is a priest of the temple, as well as a member of House Redoran, he was the one who gave you your oath ceremony. He is a friend to my family, and can be trusted, hurry Sethyas.” He baded me gently, I was all too glad to go, I knew that Athyn could not be seen in the streets with me nor with a statue in hand, rumors had a way of spreading.

I walked through the ash storm in the streets, and wondered if this latest situation wasn’t destiny, after all, I was coming headfirst before the Sixth House in direct opposition at every turn it seemed. I was beginning to wonder why I had not received any dreams from Dagoth Ur. Was he fearful of me? Angered with my ascension to Nerevarine?

Lloros fingered the ash statue deftly, muttering some blessings under his breath and closing his eyes in intense concentration. He then opened his eyes to look at me.

“This statue has some conjurative spell placed upon it….more specifically, it has a command spell. It bades it possessor to do its bidding, in this case, I believe it influenced Varvur to commit murder, I will go and speak with him, I will go under the pretense that I am just visiting an old friend. Meet me back here in two hours, Kinsman.”

Two hours later, we met up in the Temple once more.

“I have destroyed the statue, and have brought all the evidence before the Temple. Varvur has been officially cleared of any wrongdoings in the death of Bralen Carvaren.” He smiled at me. We both seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.

“Even Bolvyn Venim would not dare question the Temple in this matter, fear not. Any hold that he has over Athyn through his son is over, however, that does not mean that the matter is closed. When I questioned Varvur, he finally remembered where he got the statue from.”

I listened closely.

“Galtis Guvron, over at the Rat in the Pot cornerclub, he is the one whom sold him the statue, question Guvron, and find out where he got it from, we need to trace this to its source.”

I found it strange that a place where thieves’ guild members met would house this seller of statues, then again, it would be the perfect place to sell objects of questionable value without the questions.

In my mind I played out a likely scenario in which Bralen and Varvur were perhaps drinking as young men will do, (Who am I to judge as I am a young man?), and a shady character approaches their table mid-laugh, and sets the on the table an item that takes advantage of Varvur’s lowered willpower due to the drinking, Varvur slides over a few drakes, and when the evenings festivities are finished, he brings it home, sets it on the shelf, passes out, and then the dreams start. Dreams that would start a chain of events that led me to swinging the doors of the Rat in the Pot.

Though I am of a stealthy nature, I have never seen the need to join the Thieves Guild. In spite of being approached before, I am an Assassin, and though a member of the Morag Tong, it is in the nature of Assassins to be loners, to trust few, and speak to even less. Such a lifestyle is similar to members of the Thieves Guild, but they do not have the taint of a cold-blooded killer to them, indeed they frown on killing, which in my own way, I can respect.

I started my investigation slowly, first by simply ordering a drink, sitting down and taking in the faces that also were sizing me and my coinpurse up. But one face was not like the others. This Dunmer face looked closely at my clothes, and took me for a Redoran, and walked over to approach me.

“Hey there, I got something you might like. Take a gander at this..” the Dunmer said pulling out an Ash Statue.

“Galtis Guvron, I take it.” I said looking into the jeweled eyes of the statue.

”What? Who told you my name? Ahhh! I’ve been set up!” he yelled pulling out a steel dagger, and rushing me in my sitting position.

My left hand reached up and grabbed his right hand, preventing the downward tip of the dagger from piercing my heart, my right hand instinctively pulled out a Ancient Silver Dagger, and pierced his ribs, the powerful poison of the blade bringing him death swiftly.

I cursed myself in the reaction over action as I now no longer had any means of questioning him; I frantically searched his body looking for anything that might give me a clue as to where he got the statues from.

Of course, I forgot that maybe my little altercation might attract attention, like the attention of a curious little Bosmer who called himself “Aengoth the Jeweler”.

“What have we here? An altercation? And you’re robbing his corpse?” his high pitched voice quizzed me.
I grabbed his throat, and his saliva gurgled out of his mouth.

“Listen.” I seethed under my breath. “This is a private matter, it has nothing to do with you, I want nothing to do with the Thieves Guild, and the Thieves Guild wants nothing to do with me, got it?” I said releasing him. He put his hands to rub his throat and wandered back to his table and drink.

Finally, I plucked from his satchel a note that gave him instructions too disperse the statues throughout Ald’Ruhn, and it was signed ‘Hanarai’.

I took the note back to Lloros, and after reading it he thought carefully to himself.

“This signature may refer to Hanarai Assutlanipal, she was a recent addition to our fair city, as she claims to be an outcast Ashlander, she has a house just at the foot of the stairs leading to our Temple. Speak with her, and see what information you be able to discern from her, likely she will fear a Temple priest such as myself, which is why I ask you to go in my stead. And….lose the clothes, you don’t want her picking you up as a Redoran right away.” He said with a cautious tone. The Redorans were more stealthy and subtle than I thought.

I donned my simple brown robes, and put on my hood over my head, and knocked on her door. The Dunmer woman opened the door and stared at me.

“Will you bade a simple healer to come in, Sera?” I asked her in as Dunmerish an accent as I could muster.

She gave me a look that I will never forget; it was the same look that all Sleepers whom had ever seen me gave. A look of recognition.

“Of course, Sethyas. Do join me in your Lords Hospitality.”

She had obviously seen through such a flimsy disguise, and I entered, closing the door behind me.

“So, Dagoth Urs taint spreads to my Houses very doorstep….you will not be so boring as to deny that you are the one who has brought the Ash Statues to Ald’Ruhn?”

She smiled sweetly. “Of course not, Nerevar. But why are you so blasphemous as to have denied your Lord? Dagoth Ur offers you a place and power, yet, you spit in his face, you cannot possibly hope to defeat a GOD, can you?”

“IF one can call Voryn a God…join me,..help me stop Dagoth Ur, have you not seen the monstrosities he creates, then calls his ‘children’? Do you wish to end up a Corprus Stalker? Your insights could be invaluable.”

”No…I’m afraid that is not possible, just as you have chosen your side, so have I.” she said, unsheathing a Chitin Dagger.

“So be it.” I said unsheathing Mehrunes Razor.

We rushed each other, holding each other tight as we crashed into one another, she was as good with a shortblade as me, and we fell to floor, staring at each other, each with daggers in our sides. My difference was that the Razor kept pumping venom, and the life vanished from her eyes as we lay in a pool of both of our bloods.

I stood up, and ripped off my robes, as they were soaked in blood and threw them over her corpse. I was ready to leave, until I saw a strange red light flicker from her basement. I trudged down her stairs, and opened the door.

Yet another Sixth House Shrine greeted me, the wooden shrine with the familiar Motif greeted me with the head of the Ash Statues and the Red Candles of some significance to House Dagoth.

I unsheathed my Daedric Katana, and I swung violently, over and over, until I was no longer the one swinging, it was my anger and my frustration. At every turn, my own sins came to eat upon my weaknesses, and I was to sacrifice everything I held dear for a prophecy, and at every turn, there was Dagoth Ur mocking me with his followers.

“DAGOTH UR!! DIE, YOU FELL PIECE OF GUARDUNG!!!” I screamed to the heavens. Blaming him for the troubles in my life wasn’t solving any problems, but I had no other recourse in that moment. I wanted resolution; I wanted revenge for the death of Setsuna, for the disbelief that led to my current estrangement from Ilmeni. I wanted to end everything…self-death would be easy. I could simply make a potent poison with a nice narcotic side-effect and just simply drift off into a pleasant dream, and I would once more be with Setsuna in Aetherius…….


No. I didn’t care if the world about me set ablaze, but there was too much innocence that I was sworn to protect, even as an Assassin of the Morag Tong. It was hard, but in this moment, my worst enemy was myself, I had to defeat my internal critic. Indeed, I already knew all my own weaknesses, so it was easy to put myself down. But I vowed to go on, as hard as it was.

“Dead? But you’re sure that she was the source?” LLoros asked me once back at the Temple.

“She was a Sleeper….she recognized me as….she had a Shrine to the Sixth House in her basement, along with some crates filled with the Ash Statues. For the time being, we have stopped the influx of the cursed things. I suggest you tell the Citizens at the next Sermon to turn in any other statues we may not have found.” I said in a very quiet tone.

Lloros looked at me strangely at my sudden shift in attitude, and at me changing sentences, I didn’t want my claims to Nerevar to be known just yet, as they would easily be used against me.

“Well, go tell Athyn the good news. I’ll see to it that the house is properly investigated and cleaned. Thank you for all your help Kinsman.” Said Lloros.

I returned to Sarethi Manor, and Athyn smiled at me, but his smile disappeared as I told him of everything that transpired.

“So she was a servant of Dagoth Ur’s? And she recognized you as Nerevar…I am starting to believe you more and more Sethyas….perhaps it is not so blasphemous to believe that Nerevar has returned to us to aid us in defeating Dagoth Ur. But understand that others will not be so open-minded.”

”Others like Bolvyn Venim.”

”Precisely.’ Athyn said with a grim expression.

Three days had passed, and I was merely biding my time, I had returned to Ald Velothi, and assisted Theldyn Virith in hunting down a Shalk in the Ashimanu Mine and some aggressive Kagouti in the road to Gnisis, menial tasks perhaps, but I enjoyed the restoring power of an honest days hard work. Though it did little to alleviate the immense pressure I felt in the coming days of becoming Redoran Hortator.

Upon my return too Ald’Ruhn, I checked in with Athyn to see if he had made any progress in our attempts to take power back from Venims hands.

“It is slow work, Sethyas. Bureaucracy is painfully slow at times; indeed Venim seems to have stalled any further attempts in council power by focusing attention on bandits in the Gnaar Mok area, our forces and guardsmen will be tied up in investigations and clearing out caves for months. He wants to clear the Bitter Coast! That’s a near impossible task!”

I thought about it for a second, he was right, there was no way to guarantee that these caves wouldn’t spring back to life in just a few weeks or even years, the Cammona Tong made sure of such things, smuggling was what they were good at. And it did’nt help my situation any if Venim was forcing the councilors to focus on anything but Dagoth Ur.

“Is there any way to stall the measure? A vote or veto power, perhaps?” I surmised.

Athyn lined face thought in concentration for a few seconds.

“If the council could be convinced that the threat posed by the bandits was lessened significantly, say, if a central point of leadership were crushed, thus disorganizing the remaining pockets, allowing our normal patrols and enforcements to handle the smugglers as they usually do, I could see that the Council would be willing to vote the measure down, as it would be unnecessary cost of our already depleting resources within House Redoran.”

“Give me three days, I will find out what I need, and I will present our case to the Council, if need be, I will handle the matter myself.”

“The Council shall meet again in one weeks time, do not tarry, even in meets, Venim is not to be trusted.” Athyn warned me.

So I set off to the Rat in the Pot, I shed my new Redoran Clothes, and wore a plain dark shirt, with a pair of plain brown pants and my black gloves. I needed the Thieves Guild for information, I was just afraid of what they might ask in return.

“Camonna Tong Central Leadership? Are you kidding me? Everyone knows that Orvas Dren runs the Camonna Tong! Ha that information is free!” Laughed Aengoth the Jeweler, the Bosmer that I had just choked a few days earlier after hunting down the source of the Ash Statues in Ald’Ruhn.

“No…I need names or locations of their operations around Gnaar Mok, specifically I need to break down their hold in the area.” I said with absolute determination.

“Well. Let’s see….that’s a tall order, and likely a suicide mission, Dunmer. So I need something from you first, I can give you the name of two people whom would help you immensely, one guy is local, he’s Tong, and the other guy is IN Gnaar Mok actually, and he’s Guild.”

“How much do you want?” I asked

“Normally, money would suffice, but in your case, you can get in deeper to the Manor District then any of us ever could, so I want a Redoran Masters Helm.”

”A what?”

“A Redoran Masters Helm…it’s a very unique bonemold helm worn only by high-ranking officials in House Redoran, a ceremonial mask that represents their power, you’ll know it when you see it, its like a spiked shield around the face.” Aengoth said with a descriptive tone.

“You couldn’t just settle for money, could you?” I sighed.

He rubbed his throat very slowly. “I could if I liked you, and I don’t. So if you want my information, you’re going to go and get me a Masters Helm, times a’wasting, Dunmer!”

It took all my self control not to finish what I started then and there.

“Fine. Where do I start looking?” I said slumping inward.

“Check the Manors of the Crabshell,…each Councilor has one. But you’ll have to be very careful,…if you even ask to see it, they’re likely to challenge you to a duel. Its all very serious business.”

“Well, it is just business I suppose, it looks like I have some waiting to do until nightfall. BARKEEP! Two more Maztes over here!” I said awaiting for darkness to shroud Ald’Ruhn as I prepared to dishonor my house to save it.

I wasn’t about too go around asking everyone where to find the Masters Helm, so I entered Ald-skar in the thick of night, creeping within the shadows to stay out of the sight of Redorans Guards, I had thankfully changed to the Dark Brotherhood Armor, mask and all to prevent at the very least my identity placing me around the Manors around the time of a high-profile robbery.

Deciding that one Manor was as good as any, I picked the front door to Llethri Manor, looking off to the sides to make sure that the patrolling Guards were distant enough not to see me.

The door clicked open, and I made my way silently through darkened hallways towards the inner chambers of the huge manor. I was able to hear from two servants about to retire that Garisa Llethri was still awake in his Private Chambers going over some paperwork relating to Caldera, lately he had seemed obsessed with it, and he would likely be up all night again. Either a good thing or a bad thing for me. It would remain to be seen as I made my way to his bedrooms, where I assumed that would be the first place to look for his honorary helm.

I creeped inside the room, which was dark, save that for a few candles that brought a bluish hue to the room; I looked around and made sure that noone else was present. I began a quick search of his closets and drawers, to no avail, there were many expensive clothes and jewelry, but not what I was looking for, perhaps were I a thief, I would be in heaven right now, but my heart pounded as I heard footsteps coming towards the room I was in, they were soft and feminine and the entrance of a middle aged Dunmer Woman confirmed there apparent sound.

I quickly ran against a wall trying everything in my power to remain unseen, and a cold sweat began to develop under my armor. Normally, this situation wouldn’t even faze me, but I wasn’t sneaking around too kill anyone, it was opposite my normal instinct, I was trying NOT to be around anyone.

Her walking over to her closet changed the beating of my heart from fear to desire, as she disrobed from her flowing dark red robes into a nightgown that revealed much of her. I then realized who she was. Fathasa Llethri, the wife of Garisa Llethri, and the rumored concubine of Bolvyn Venim.

She then sat at a table, and began to style her hair, rather then dress it down, and I began to wonder whom she was expecting, Garisa or Bolvyn.

I slowly began to walk away, still staring at her from the shadows, when I made the stupidest mistake I have ever made, I tripped over a chest between my position on the wall and the door, Fathasa gasped as she turned around and saw a masked black-clad stranger in her room.

“Are…you here to kill me?” she asked, I found myself wondering why she wasn’t raising an alarm if that’s what she suspected.

“Um,…it might look that way,…but no. I’m a simple thief ma’am, I was here to steal something, but it looks like you caught me,…so you can call the guards, or let me go, I am at your mercy.” I said quite frightened myself, If I were caught, I would be expelled from House Redoran, and all my plans would be ruined over a damn Helm.

She took a very unexpected approach. “Yes,…you are completely at my mercy, aren’t you? All I would have to do is scream, and you would be dead in less than a minute. Then tell me, what did you come here to steal?” She asked.
“A Redoran Masters Helm.” I said with a defeatist tone.

She let out a small chuckle.

“Whats so funny?” I asked, slightly angered that I was being mocked in a checkmate.

“It right in that chest you tripped over, Thief.” She said, pulling out a small key.

“And I could give a damn what my spineless Husband thinks of it, its yours.” She said, holding the key out.

I cocked my head sideways, not believing what I was hearing, but I took a step forward and held my hand out to grab it. She then playfully moved her hand back, my masked face and hers now dangerously close.

She then dropped the key down her cleavage; adding another playful “Oops.”

I knew exactly what she was going for, but I resisted, taking a step back.

“Muthsera! This is…completely inappropriate!” I said in a slightly offended tone, I had not come here for this, nor would I defy House Redoran with this,...temptation. Besides, I loved another.

She laughed out loud. “You are telling me what’s inappropriate, thief? If you want to leave here with that helm, and your life, I suggest you start playing dice. Take off your mask….” She said playfully, clearly enjoying her control in the situation.

“That’s…not a good idea.”

“I said…take..it..off.” She said, with an authoritarian tone and expression.

I removed it, and she did a double-take.

”Kinsman! What a surprise!” She said moving in closer, and kissing me.

Dear Reader, please do not judge me too harshly, I did what I did for the good of Morrowind.


I arrived at the Rat in the Pot, perhaps an hour later, I did not know to be sure, all I remember was bagging the helm and running for my dear life…well, not my life, but it was still a shock to me what had just happened.

I set the burlap sack on the table, and Aengoth looked surprised as I showed him the contents.

“Not bad!” He said with a slight grin. “Maybe you should consider joining us. Nonetheless, I believe I owe you some information, specifically you need some names?”

”What I NEED is a hot bath and a cure common disease potion, but the names will suffice.”

Aengoth gave me a strange look, but proceeded to tell me what I needed to know, Drinar Varyon was a local Tong Smuggler, living in Ald’Ruhn. Wadharku was a Khajiit Guild Boss in Gnaar Mok. Either one could point me in the right direction.

I decided that questioning Drinar Varyon would be too risky this early in the operation, though it was hard to think straight at the moment, but I made my way to Gnaar Mok, hoping that the jog there would help clear my mind of these strange feelings that were overtaking me.

“Wadarku does not know you…but Aengoth sends you, you say? All right, that’s good enough for Wadarku, the Varyon Siblings run things in the Tong around here, Dunmer. There central Cave would be Shurinbaal a ways south of Gnaar Mok. It is feasible that should you assault them, the rest of the smugglers around here may well become disorganized enough to allow the Guild to take control….in fact, if you can do this thing that no other can, I promise I will try, and there will be no more botherings of the House Redoran.” Said the Khajiit Guild Boss in Dreugh-Jiggers Rest. He was acting mostly as surveillance in Gnaar Mok, and would likely welcome the opportunity to weaken the Cammona Tong, and not that the Thieves Guild could be trusted, one could always trust them to keep things quiet. Quiet enough to convince the Council to overthrow Venims latest measure.

I followed the Khajiit’s directions to the entrance of a distant wooden entrance, on the framing of the door, I could make out in faint Daedric scratchings ‘Shurinbaal’. So this was the place. And it was a well guarded headquarters as well, complete with trapped doors, sentries and battlemages. All of whom fell to my Bow and daggers.

From one of the unlucky inhabitants, a Dunmer Woman, I retrieved a locket with an inscription that said: “To my Sister, with all my love, Drinar.”

So this was his sister,…perhaps this would come in handy later. I also took advantage of the situation to loot the cave of its small treasures, finding many gems, books, scrolls, and most enticing of all, booze. Yes, I could not quite believe how much Mazte, Sujamma, Flin and Cyrodiilic Brandy I found in this particular cave.

Regardless, I bagged up all my loot, and changed from my dark armor to common clothes, and as I exited the cave, I thought of my next moves, I would likely have to use Drinar in my presentation to the council, but…..

My mind slowed down, and the guilt of what I had done to get the Redorans Helm began to weigh on me,…I had betrayed both Ilmeni, myself, and my House. The dark guest in my mind brought along some friends, Setsunas death also began to gnaw at me. Doubt of myself began to overcome my psyche. I sat down for a long time. I couldn’t remember the last time I had cried, but now was definitely one of those times.

I began to wander, for how long or where, I don’t remember. But it seemed I was being drawn somewhere, a place that breathed the same sadness that had become to overtake me.

Deep in the bitter coast, I believe south of Shurinbaal, there is a shack that has been abandoned. Who was the former resident, or why he left, I do not know. But in the twilight hours of a heavy rain, I ran soaked toward its small dock, seeking its shelter inside, the layers of dust, and the smell of scuttle that has fossilized beyond decay, tells me that this shack has no tenant.

I lit the lantern on the shelf, and took off my clothes, letting them dry on the wall, and I began to help myself to the alcoholic contents of looting of Shurinbaal, in hopes of numbing the pain that began to run its course through me emotionally.

As I began to rummage through the contents of the shack, I found a book called “No-H’s Picture Book” as I picked the book up a note fell from its pages, I leaned down to pick it up, and began to read it. It was a worn and weathered note.It was the most beautiful tragedy I had ever read, and I related intimately to the letter, tears ran down my cheeks as I read the note over and over.

I can now recite the note from memory, which I write in this Journal now.

I am forever swimming around, amidst this ocean world we call home. My limbs grow weak and weary as my eyes drift skyward in defeat. I remember how warm the earth felt, as I lived and breathed next to her beating heart. I remember enough to keep searching through an ocean of tears, raised to astronomical depths. My dreams offer solace, where I return to distant, faded times. Through trees entwined with cool autumn air, my sorrow is lured by fragrant, bittersweet memories. I am at home as much as my world and consciousness allow. I remember falling into the most beautiful lake I've ever experienced. She swallowed me whole, like a droplet, and I was enraptured and enwombed within her bliss. The lonely windswept desert sky of my soul was filled by her luminous stars and warmed by her sunlit radiance. I gazed downward in awe and saw it all reflected in the shimmering ripples dancing and playing about the surface. It appeared to me as real as the very wonders it was reflecting. I stepped forward to prove to no one and everyone that they were, by belief. For an aching instant I was betwixt the two and the summation. Confusion befell me and I fell through, only to realize I hadn't entered the lake, I had left it. With all of my remaining life I howled at the heavens and collapsed, like a star on the shores of my youth, as my life's breath wandered away from the home it had harbored. I have been drowning on dry land ever since.

I lay there, coital, for heaven knows how long. I felt eons ebb and flow in the spans of seconds. I lived as intently as I could in those endless instants, as the boredom of -after- droned on and on. The fires of my heart grew dim and became only the faintest embers of the roaring blaze they had once been. My limbs, heavy with the weight of the world, protested. I felt the longing of this life which slowly began to ease the agony in my heart. As I was gradually nursed back to health, knowledge of record and history tried desperately to fill the yawning, nauseous chasm of my soul. I began to know the deadpan search for freedom and forgetfulness, and I released the hold on my life. Though it still lurched, pained, in front of me, I just stared back with tired, vacant eyes as if watching the most fascinating of nothing. My mind drifted, only to be slammed back reluctantly, repeatedly, and painfully by those I vaguely remember knowing, as if from a different life and age. I try, in vain, to forgive and forget myself as I paste on those plaster smiles and strain to look levelly. I remember. I forget. I forget again. I remember less. I am saddened at the thought that I have forgotten. I am not who I used to be. Though it pained me so, I was never so real as those lonely, lost times of my undoing. I am torn asunder at the thought of losing forever that, which has changed my life eternally, and that which I fear in the depths of my soul will never be again. That, which has gifted me with more pain than I have ever known in all of my lives or all of the lives that I know through my own.

Who am I to ask this of you?

I do not know who wrote this note, but I thank him. It helped to fall asleep that night. And in the midst of a dreamless, drunken sleep. My eyes opened as I heard small footsteps as the rain outside died.

“Fricking Nix-Hounds.” I muttered to myself as I pulled out my Daedric Dagger, and skulked to the shacks door, hoping to catch the hound by surprise.

Right as my hand reached out too open the door, a knock came to the door. It was gentle, and unintrusive. But I still found it suprising. I put my dagger behind my back, and opened the door just a crack. Seeing the face of a Dachshund Hound, my ears had not deceived me in hearing a dog of some kind, I also saw the legs of its master.

I opened the door more, and looked into the smiling face of a young Breton, perhaps Twenty Five Years of age, blond hair, an electric feeling of magicka about him. Some people in this world have an aura or presence about them, this was one of those people.

“Hail.” He said with a friendly tone, patting the dog’s head lovingly.

“Hail…um…I take it this is your shack? I am sorry, I was just looking for shelter….”

“It was…once. But you’re welcome to it now, I just dropped by to see you, Sethyas.” The Breton said with an open tone.

My heart skipped a beat. Was this perhaps a Dark Brotherhood Agent, here to finish the job on me?

“I’m sorry, friend, I don’t seem to remember where we met?”
”I don’t think you could remember, I was there before you were born, I was there when you were born, and I have been with you every step you took in Vvardenfell.”

My heart just went from skipping beats, to stop beating. What riddles was this man speaking?

“You must be what and who you are. You cannot lose the whole of your self in a part of yourself. The anger is you and the violence, but so are the honor and the compassion. I made the mistake of fighting against not only my destiny, but myself. One thing is certain when you fight yourself- you will always lose. Learn to control your anger, and to keep it from controlling you. You are Redoran and Morag Tong- if you do nothing that tarnishes your honor, you will never have to be ashamed of your actions, though the whole world tries to say you were wrong. Only you hold your honor. Hail, Nerevar!"

A new energy took over me. All the darkness that had taken over me dissipated in the light of this man’s words. I didn’t know who he was, but I reached out a hand to shake his, and his grasp was firm and real. It was calloused from years of handling a bow like mine.

He made a statement that was like a command, but wasn’t. “You should probably get some sleep.” He said with a tone of concern and compassion.

I found myself unable to resist it, and the fatigue of running around these last few days took over my eyelids. “Yeah…I probably should.” I said, my feet moving back to the hammock.

Daylight broke through the slats of the shack, several hours later. And I awoke refreshed and reborn.

I immediately thought of the encounter last night. Was it all a dream? I ran outside, and looked at the mud of the rainfall, there were several paw prints of a small hound, and a tread that matched mine. But there were no other footprints.

I pulled out the note that I had found, and looked carefully at the bottom of the page, noticing scratchings that I hadn’t made out before.

The signature was so faded that my interpretation of what it might have been could be wrong.

But I was certain the signature read, “Trey of High Rock.”


As you guessed, Trey has made a cameo. All Dialogue from Trey, was written by Trey, with a few points that were hammered out in advance between the two of us. Hope you enjoyed it. Thanks again to Trey for the quick appearance.

Returning to Ald’Ruhn, I made a call upon Drinar Varyon.

“Where did you get this locket? This is…”

“Your Sister’s. I know, Shurinbaal has fallen to the Thieves Guild. The Camonna Tong has lost control of the Gnaar Mok territory, I am here to make an offer to you. Turn as an informant to House Redoran, or join your sister in a dank prison cell.”

The pained look on the mans face reflected my own when I had lost my sister, I felt like guardung lying to him, his sister lay dead on a cold cavern floor. Felled by my own hand, more accurately, the Thieves Guild had likely thrown her body to the Slaughterfish.

“You…dare?” he yelled, unsheating a silver shortsword.

The fight was quick, and I left his house too the streets, I told a Redoran Guard about the situation, as it turned out, Drinar Varyon being a smuggler was an open secret, and their search of the house and removal of the body yielded amongst nearly a ton of pottery, brought about stolen ebony and dwemer artifacts.

I took a copy of the Captain’s report, and along with the locket, I had enough evidence to present to the council to overthrow Venim’s Measure. Athyn would be eager to hear my report.

“This is all very good news. I am proud of you this day Sethyas. There is much more to you then meets the eye. You accomplished what no one else in House Redoran would have single-handedly.” Beamed Athyn.

“These things came at a price Athyn. A very high price. I was very nearly expelled from our House, I have done things that have robbed me of a great deal of my self-respect.” I said quietly.

“What things?” he said concerned.

I merely gave him a look that spoke of my unwillingness to speak on the matter.

“I killed no one in the House. But should you hear of other things missing, know that nothing worth attaining comes without sacrifice.”

“I know this thing all too well, my boy.” Athyn said placing a fatherly hand on my shoulder, and walking me to his door.

“But go now, and rest. Tomorrow, the council meets and you must be prepared to make your case, the beginning of Venim’s end will start with you. After this, he will know you, and he will mark you as his enemy. Be ready.”

I nodded grimly, and considered going to the Ald Skar Inn to drink to the next day. But instead I opted to pay a visit to my former Master, and still master in the sense of training, Goren Andarys, after all, the Morag Tong Guildhall was in Ald-Skar.

The warmth of his smile brought back the equally painful and pleasant training sessions I had endured under him, but it was good to see Goren once more, and we clasped hands.

“The student has become the Master; it is good to see you once more, Exalted Master.”

“Just Sethyas, Master. I don’t think I’ll ever see myself as ‘above’ you. I may run the administration aspect one day, but I am who I am, because of you.” I said humbly, to which he gratefully thanked me with a quick bow of his head.

“There is someone I think you should meet, Sethyas. Her name is Rayne Alas. Another promising lifetaker for Mephala.” He said walking with me to the back chambers of the guildhall.

And I saw a young Dunmer female, with long dark hair, and dressed in dark clothing, kicking a training dummy blindfolded.

I groaned out: “Oh no! You’re putting her through the blind fighting session too? How many reps has she had too repeat due to misses?”

“Unlike my old student, none.” He said with a look that indicated me as his old student.

“She’s a natural; she is already at your skill level in hand to hand, if not better. She may be vying for your rank even someday.”

”Morag Tong does not choose for skill alone, Master. You taught me that.”

”Which will serve you well in your rank.”

Rayne finished her workout, and removed her blindfold, she was certainly pretty, but did not smile as she approached us, bowing to Goren.

“Your workout is finished for today. Rest.” Goren ordered her sternly much as he had me.

“Who’s this guy? Redoran Client?” she said suspiciously toward me.

Goren put his hand over his eyes, and groaned.

“Student. You just insulted the Exalted Master, meet Sethyas Velas.” He barked out.

The look of surprise and apology on her face was soon replaced with a look of admiration.

“Is it true what they said about you single-handedly taking on the Dark Brotherhood? Did you really kill the Night Mother? Oh, and are you the outlander claiming to be Nerevar?”

Goren groaned once more, as I merely took in her questions with a careful expression. The Tong had been somewhat indifferent towards my claims, keeping opinions on the matter to themselves, a reaction that I was grateful for.

“Many of our brothers and sisters passed in the war with the Dark Brotherhood, to say I had any more to do with it than they would be to dishonor them and their efforts, and yes, I did face the Night Mother.” I said coolly. I wasn’t trying to pull rank, but I was also unused to such forwardness.

“And the Nerevar business?” she pryed.

“..is my business.” I said cutting her off.

“Well, I hope all the Masters aren’t so rude!” she said walking off to clean herself.

“Forgive her, Sethyas…she is young, and has much too learn.” Goren said, both of us looking at her walking away.

“I too, am young, and well know the folly of my ways. I just hope she learns that respect should be given to everyone, I learned the hard way, she may have to as well. But that is not why I am here.”

“Is it about the Nerevar business?”

“Yes.” I said, and we engaged in a long discussion like the ones I missed so, discussing the assassins technique, philosophy and the world. This time we spoke of Nerevar, and House Redoran, and the Archmaster.

“Archmaster Venim is well known for his distrust and hate of all outlanders and the Empire. And that you have come to seek the title of Hortator…..play the game well, Sethyas. He will call your honor into question many times. You cannot rely on the Morag Tong for a reference. Your patron, Athyn Sarethi, is a kind and wise Councilor, and I believe that his faith is well placed in you.”

“When waging war, the highest goal you can have, is to attack your enemies plans, find them, and strike as you would from the shadows. Find his strongest supports, and demolish them, and yet, from all this, you must seem as a concerned friend. At this meet tomorrow, praise Venims plans, and say that you were inspired to follow up on them by his brilliance. At the same time, you will show that they are unnecessary, thus giving a hand of power back to the council, neither side will see you as enemy, then place Athyn as the true arbiter of Shurinbaal, the council will see Athyn as the stronger, while Venims ego will be appeased. Then retreat from the minds of the Council for a while, your work behind the scenes is far from finished.”

“I know. If there is one constant in this Nerevar Business, is that there is always much more to do.”

I donned my Redoran Clothes, and put some scuttle grease to slick my hair back, in all I looked regal. The crab shell was a flurry of Councilors heading too Council Hall for their weekly meeting. I soon joined Athyn and his entourage of his wife and two servants, he nodded too me, and we spoke under our breaths of the presentation.

I could not actually go into the room with the other councilors, except when Athyn called me in. In the meantime, I stayed in the chambers outside, avoiding the flirtive glances of Fathasa Llethri.

“Redoran Sethyas Velas. You have been summoned.” Spoke a Dunmer Servant, opening the councils doors.

I entered and looked around, the six pairs of the councilors eyes were affixed to me, Athyn’s were hopeful, Venim’s were hateful.

“So outlander, you have something to report regarding our patrol initiative in Gnaar Mok?” stated the Archmaster coldly, his red eyes burning a hole into my very essence it would seem.

This was our first meeting face-to-face, I wondered whether Venim knew of me or not. It was information that I needed as well.

His elegantly trimmed goatee matched the exquisite clothes he wore, and he had his hair fashioned in a neat Mohawk style, and strapped to his back, he wore a massive Daedric Dai-Katana, dwarfing even my own Daedric Katana.

“Yes, milord Archmaster. As a loyal servant of House Redoran, I realized that your plans were correct; we must stop the smugglers from—“

“Of course they were correct, I am the Archmaster! You will make no claims to being a ‘loyal servant’ of House Redoran! You are an outlander! You are not of our blood! You are merely a hired mercenary, and you will not refer to yourself as anything but, in my presence, is that understood, hireling?” Venim barked at me.

Now, anyone else may say what was on their tongues, anyone else may have pulled a dagger, and slit the Mers throat. But if you examine the situation, this was an opportunity to make Venim appear weak to the other Councilors, if he wasn’t already for his outburst.

“Milord Archmaster.” I said obsequiously “You are correct, I must refer to myself only by my rank, I am Kinsman of House Redoran, and there is no loyal servant rank.”

Venim knew he could not say anything otherwise, lest he challenge me to a duel, and silenced himself with the other councilors glaring at him. Even Athyn looked as though he were about to jump down Venims throat.

“But as I was saying, the Archmaster was correct, Redoran is under siege. We cannot allow annoyances such as the Camonna Tong too threaten our trade any longer. However the wisdom within hunting down each and every cave in the bitter coast lacks the real world approach of more subtle means of investigation.”|

“At Councilors Sarethi’s behest I took it upon myself to investigate the Archmaster’s proposal, and how it would work in a less direct application, my findings indicated that there was a contact inside Ald’Ruhn the whole time.” I said, pulling out the Redoran Guards report, and sliding it to the center of the table. The councilors took their turns in reading it, as they took note of the name and items recovered from Drinar Varyon’s house. The report ended up in Venims hand.

“So? One contact caught will just lead to another taking his place! If anything, this reinforces the Archmasters proposal, Kinsman.” Said Sarethi, subtly probing to my next point, and the Councilors whispered amongst themselves.

“That is if the contact had someone to report too” I said throwing the locket from Drinar’s Sister to Venim.

“To my Sister, with all my love, Drinar.” Read Venim aloud.

“Shurinbaal is the Central point for all Camonna Tong smuggling within the Gnaar Mok area, the cave has been cleared.” I said.

“By who, outlander?” Venim asked.

“By myself.”

Venim looked at the locket for a few seconds, and then glanced at the Councilors with calculating red eyes.

“What are you saying, Kinsman?” Venim asked still staring at Sarethi with cold eyes, oddly not insulting me.

“Merely that the former suggested measures will no longer be necessary. We can continue with our current patrols, and it is very likely that we will see a dramatic decrease in crime within House Territory.”

“You are dismissed, Velas. Your report is finished.”


Five hours later, waiting for Athyn in his Manor, Varvur and I were playing a game of shells, enjoying a Mazte, and Hackle-lo. Athyn arrived, clearly worn out.

“Sethyas, join me in my chambers, please.” Athyn motioned me to follow him, while giving his son a warm smile. His wife headed for the bedrooms, attended by the house servants.

Athyn sighed as he collapsed into his chair.

“Meetings are that rough?”

Athyn smiled. “Mostly just discussing nothing….as the Bretons say, ‘much ado about nothing’ it’s a struggle just to stay awake really”

“But we have both triumphed and failed. The Council overthrew the measure, and moreso, they were very impressed with your efforts in regards to House Redorans trade routes. They unanimously, sans Venim of course, voted you to House Cousin.”

I blinked. “House Cousin?”

“It’s a nobility rank. You are now within the higher echelons of House Redoran. Indeed, you must soon begin construction of a stronghold.”

“That is the failing, I assume?”

“Yes, Venim now knows you, while you managed to quell his ego with your diplomacy; he hates you for the council acknowledging your efforts, he will try to attack you every chance he gets. We need help, Sethyas.”

“What kind of help?”

“The Mandas Family. They are loyal supporters of the Council, and have long silently opposed Venims hold. They have many officers and soldiers within Redorans Armies, without the Mandas’ Redoran would be nothing.”

“Then why didn’t you enlist their support before?” I asked incredulously.

Athyn sighed. “Arethan Mandas, a particular friend of mine, recently went mad. His daughter went missing recently, just before you approached me with becoming Redoran Hortator, he was reported as holing himself up in the Cavern of Milk, along the Gnisis – Ald’Ruhn road, and periodically would send out the bandits that he befriended to demand tribute from travelers.”

“A Nobleman turned Bandit Ringleader? Yes, he seems to have been touched by Sheogorath.”

Athyn cocked his head to the side. “Perhaps there is more to the situation, do not be so quick to pass judgment. Regardless, as I mentioned the Mandas Family is quite influential in House Redoran, Arethan’s Father, Llerar Mandas, is even the Redoran appointee to the Grand Council in Ebonheart. Perhaps you could speak with him there. See if you can find Arethan’s daughter Delyna. And furthermore, see if you can earn an ally in Redoran, Llerar is well apprised of the situation with Venim and the Council, but with you in the picture, it may change things. It is why I am sending you, so that he learns to know you.”

I thought about it, and it was logical. I wasn’t used to enlisting others for aid, but I was certainly used to cloak and dagger business, even if cloak and dagger was being used for a higher goal.

“All right, I depart for Ebonheart in the morning. Oh, and I nearly forgot,…you mentioned something about a stronghold?”

“Yes, you’re a Nobleman now, and you must have an estate to establish any real lasting power within Redoran, on top of the fact that I believe that it will serve you infinitely better in your upcoming war with Dagoth Ur.”

I stopped to think. You’re a Nobleman, now. I had just become the very thing I hated.

“What is it Sethyas?” Athyn asked with a concerned tone.

“Nothing, I just…”

“Quite a jump from becoming a ‘hired mercenary’, eh? You’ll get used to it. Its really no difference from being a normal person, just that you now have a responsibility to more people, some Nobles grow arrogant and careless, and shirk their duties, they forget their place and begin to view others as ‘beneath’ them, when in truth, you are more of a servant to the people then ever before. You must make the decisions that will make you unpopular, you must risk your life to protect others lives, you must make judgments that are fair and sound. In short, you must be everything that being the Nerevarine requires you to be.”

“I always thought of Nobles as being people I hated, for all my life I’ve been put down by the rich and the Empire. The thought that merely possessing a few more pounds in gold made these people feel better than me, made me want to kill them, rich or poor, we all answer to the Graves call.” I said with a bitter anger towards a cold world.

Athyn sympathetically put his hand on mine.

“Then don’t become what you hate, that is the easy path. Lead by example, show the Nobility what being noble truly is, remind them that without the people, they are nothing.”

I looked into Athyn’s fatherly eyes, and wished he were.

“How is it that you never became the thing I hate?” I asked him.

“I’ve been taught a few lessons in humility, myself.” Athyn laughed, his eyes looking into past memories.

Upon Athyns instructions I spoke to Galsa Gindu in the Council Hall, she was the Administrator of Construction and expansion within House Redoran, a stressed woman up to her neck in paperwork.

“Ah,…another Stronghold, eh? Lets see. I have the territory between Maar Gan and Ald’Ruhn at Bal Isra open. However. You’ll need a Construction Contract and five thousand drakes.”

“Five thousand drakes?” I stammered, I had never spent so much money on any one thing before.

“Well, yes. You didn’t think that we just built it for you out of House Redoran’s coffers, did you? Besides, you’re a Noble you’re supposed to have that much, plus you’ll have to see the Duke for the Construction Contract, we are forbidden from building any new sites without it, all the Houses have been ignoring this rule recently, but as House Redoran prides itself on being the most honorable house, Ill have to insist on this one.”

I thought about my coffers in Vivec. Months of preying on bandit caves had yielded me a tidy sum. I would have to see how tidy they were as I hadn’t actually sat down to count my gold.

Plus, I would have to talk to Duke Vedam Dren? Oh, dear. I hadn’t met Ilmeni’s Father yet. And now I had to ask him for the right to build a stronghold. Somehow I thought the meeting would lead to discussing more then just construction contracts as I fingered the Moon-and-Star beneath my black glove.

And both Llerar Mandas and Duke Dren were in the Grand Council inside Ebonheart.

This was not coincidence.

Seventeen-Thousand One Hundred and Ninety One Septims

I went over the bags of gold stashed in a securely locked chest in my apartment in the Saint Delyn Canton, I had skulked through the shadows in the middle of the night to avoid seeing Ilmeni. Perhaps it wasn’t the right thing to do, but I had little time to accomplish what I had set forth to accomplish with House Redoran. My promotions had been stellar, and I was beginning to become soft from the constant politicking.

I had come a long way from the first time that I had first rented this house, from outlander assassin, and now Nerevar reborn, and Redoran Noble. And yet, I felt these were still just titles, I was still Sethyas Velas, outlander Assassin, perhaps four thousand years ago, my name may have been Nerevar of Indoril, but this was now, and I had to adapt and plan based on the present.

I thought of what my next move with Mandas and the Duke should be as I began to lay down on my bed as the first vestiges of silence finally began to creep back into my life after the hectic last few weeks.

My eyes grew heavy as my mind began to drift off to sleep…..

…then I heard the faintest of sounds. A slight shuffle of a foot, the unsheathing of a well oiled dagger. I instinctively did not move, nor give any indication that I heard a thing.

Then, as the whoosh of blade started the first note of a deadly song, my red eyes snapped open, and I caught the hand of the dark figure with my left hand, I twisted the wrist, and the dagger fell into my right hand.

In one motion, I brought the figure slamming down into my bed, and I lay down on top of it, as I brought the steel dagger to the throat of the Morag Tong masked Assassin.

“First Mistake, slipping into someone’s house while they sleep to kill them is so cliché’, you need to observe them a bit longer then just impulsively kill them at you’re earliest opputunity.”

I pressed the dagger a bit more to the throat, and a feminine sob came out from underneath the mask.

“Second Mistake, you must never fear death in the Morag Tong. You must always be prepared for the possibility that your mark may kill you---Rayne Alas.” I said, pulling off her mask, my suspicions being confirmed.

She was scared, as this was probably her first assignment. I wasn’t at all surprised. In fact, I was fully expecting Venim to draw up a writ the second he smelled something funny on the wind.

I got up, and lit a hackle-lo leaf, and sat down at my table, staring at the crying figure on my bed; Rayne was young, and inexperienced. On top of the fact that she was likely confused as hell by the writ.

“I-I-m sorry….Master Goren said I had no choice, and neither did he. But I was ordered to fulfill the writ on you…even though you’re…the Exalted Master…he said you’d understand.”

”Third Mistake, never reveal any information about the Morag Tong. But all in all, not bad. And yes, it is the consequence of being a member of a House that I have no choice but to accept that I may be targeted for assassination.”

”But who would order a Writ on you Master?” Rayne said crying, her chin trembling.

“Someone who doesn’t know that I am in the Morag Tong. And that’s the way it’s supposed to be. Don’t worry, you acted with utmost honor, the writ will just be considered unfulfilled. Return to Master Andarys now.” I said with a quiet tone.

“What do I tell him?” she whimpered.

“The Truth.” I said flicking an ash from my Hackle-Lo.

She quieted down, and got off the bed, and began to pace the apartment. I raised an eyebrow, and wondered why she was still here.

“Teach me.” She said finally.

“Excuse me?” I asked.

“Teach me in the advanced arts of being an Assassin. You’re a legend in the tong whether you know it or not. The only other Assassin who has shown as much skill as you was Simion Mandrake, but he has long since retired and returned home to Kvatch in Cyrodiil. I want to be the best.” She said with a Naïve ambition.

My brows furled at the request, and I thought about what she had said.

“Being the best has little to nothing to do with WANTING to be the best. Taking lives is not always a proud profession Rayne, and you show an unhealthy interest. Have you even taken a life before?”

“Sure…well, in self defense. I mean, my Father wanted me to marry a Saltrice Farmers son and settle down. But, that life wasn’t for me….”

“So you read the Black Glove, found the Vivec Headquarters, and met with the Grandmaster. But you never stopped to think what being an Assassin really is? The paranoia, the isolation, the guilt of taking a life in cold-blood. Can you truly live with these things?” I asked her.

She finally stopped acting like a kid for three seconds and stopped to think.

“I—I. I can. Eventually.”

“Speak with Master Andarys more about the philosophies of the Morag Tong. Being an Assassin is more in the mind than in the hand wielding a knife. Reflect on what we talked of here, and when you are ready, I will seek you out. Now….If you don’t mind, it is late, and I have business in the morning….” I said getting up to show her out.

She left probably more confused than before, and I shut the extra bolt on my door hoping that would keep out any more uninvited guests, I threw her dagger under my pillow, and went too sleep.

Morning came through my windows, and I was more or less in one piece. But I looked over at my table, and I saw her dagger standing point tip-up, I felt under my pillow, it had been removed while I slept.

I laughed aloud.

Ebonheart was a hustle and bustle of a busy port town, combined with the most heavily garrisoned Imperial Fort on Vvardenfell; there was an even mixture of guards to merchants and commoners.

Inside the Grand Council Chambers, there was a small presence of House Nobles, and Llerar Mandas was not hard to spot in his Dwemer Armor. His battle-hardened face showed little emotion through his eyes. A Generals eyes.

“Sera Mandas?” I asked quietly.

“Hmm? Oh yes, I am he. Ah, a Redoran Kinsman, what is your name outlander?” Llerar said taking in my Redoran Clothes, and offering a hand from his plush chair.

“Sethyas Velas, Sera. Recently appointed House Cousin as it were. I come from Councilman Athyn Sarethi, about your son Arethan. The Mandas family has suffered a stunning blow with his stint of madness. If we are to wrest control from Venims hands, we will need everyone to stand firm.”

”Indeed, Sera Velas. His onset was caused by Delyna, his daughter, capture by Divayth Fyr. She acts as an….Agent for the Redoran Army. Normally the nobility tries to be aboveboard with their dealings with the other houses. But actually waging a war requires more subtlety, all war is deception in my experience, which is far more than any councilmans, my boy. She was on an intelligence gathering, and got caught it would appear.”

I thought for a moment.

“I know Divayth Fyr a bit, General Mandas, I may be able to speak with him, to be honest he doesn’t seem to be the type to actually care about politics, he is a rare person in House Telvanni, and may be convinced to let her go.”

“Aye? If you could pull that off, it just may revive my son. Please, make haste, but do not do anything that would endanger my granddaughter. I may have already lost a son….”

“I swear that if she still lives, I will do everything in my power to save her.”

“Thank you, my boy.” Mandas said, clasping my hands.

The next step was the harder one, and it took me three hours of waiting to see the Duke. I was ordered to leave all my weapons with the Imperial Guard, and was frisked thoroughly before I was permitted to enter his chambers. When I finally was allowed entry, the Duke was waiting, and I was afraid that he might have me abducted and interrogated in some Ebonheart dungeon.

The stone walls of the office were a peculiar mix of Imperial and Dunmer styles. The Duke had both the Imperial Dragon on the wall behind his chair, and the Daedric Lettering for Almsivi on traditional tapestrys.

I looked at the Duke, and met with an expression that I wasn’t expecting at all. A smile. As I would soon learn, the Duke was above all, a diplomat.

“Sethyas Velas! At last we meet! I have heard so much about you…”

“Much of it was gathered intentionally I would assume” I said quietly.

The Duke actually laughed at this, the laugh genuine, not forced.

“Well, I’d like to know about the man who claims to love my daughter. And you are an interesting case Sethyas. First, you’re released by the Emperor himself into my district with strange orders to meet with an old man who apparently has a skooma problem, so my guess would be you either met with the Blades, or are in the Imperial intelligence, don’t answer that, I understand your position.”

“And then you join up with the Morag Tong, and you have some stellar results, Exalted Master, so that tells me you’re at least decently competent in the Assassin’s Arts. In fact, that’s why I asked for you in the Writ on the Ieneth brothers.”

“And to top it off, you spend some time with some ashlanders, find some fancy ring, and start showing it off to members of my house, claiming to be an ancient general reborn, and that you will lead the Dunmeri peoples against the threat of Dagoth Ur. Even making an alliance of sorts with my brother, who would love to see me dead, to ensure your position as Hortator of House Hlaalu. Am I leaving anything out?”


“The part where I joined House Redoran to overthrow Archmaster Bolvyn Venim to become Redoran Hortator, but needed a Construction Contract before I could continue with those plans.” I stated bluntly. Not that revealing my plans was a good thing, but I was dealing with an equal here, and he either knew or would know of my plans.

“Ah yes. You are a Redoran Noble now, aren’t you? That may help your position in the future should you eventually ask for my daughters hand in marriage….”

I gulped.

“Uh….right..I….”

“You WERE planning such a thing weren’t you?”

“Maybe…it’s just that Ilmeni and I have an estrangement at the moment. She seems fed up with my constant….changes in nature. I can’t say as that I blame her. The whole situation has been rough on both of us…I mean.” I took off my glove, and showed him the Moon-and-Star. “What do YOU think of all this?”

He looked at the ring for a moment, and even traced its intricacies with his finger.

“My father always told me; when you hear something unbelievable, don’t believe it. But, the Dunmer people have always been a fractious people, relying on a charismatic leader to unite them in the face of a common threat. Perhaps you are that leader.”

He then pulled out the Construction Contract, and handed it to me, raising me from my seat, and walked me to his door.

“But my advice to you is, let the wise women worry about the prophecies and mysteries, and instead, focus on the here and now, do what needs to be done. I will be listening with great interest in your future exploits, luck be with you Nerevar.”

I sighed as the door closed behind me. Ilmeni, where are you when I need you most?

Regardless, Delyna Mandas awaited rescue in Tel Fyr, and luckily enough the port in Ebonheart had a ship that sailed directly for Sadrith Mora.

The sea winds of the Sadrith Mora port intoxicated my nostrils with its salty smell. I had donned my Red Morag Tong robes over the Dark Brotherhood armor, looking pretty for councilors had little to do with going out and doing the actual work that they required.

My dark boot sent small ripples through the surface of the water, as the water walking spell refused to let me sink, and I once more set about the path that I had last walked when seeking the cure for corprus from the only person who had one.

Once more I entered the Telvanni Mushroom Tower of Divayth Fyr, this time I managed to cast a weak levitation spell that took a few tries to successfully cast, and I floated to the ground before the impressive Daedric Armored profile of the Telvanni Wizard.

“Ah! Sethyas Velas again! I tried out the potion on a few of the other test subjects, didn’t work though,…its back to the drawing board. But what can I do for you, did you experience a relapse of any kind?”

I smiled at the objective view of Divayth. “No Sera Fyr, I haven’t experienced anything, I still feel stronger then when I did have it in the first place. I’m afraid I am now in House Redoran, and I come on House business.”

Divayth’s face became slightly annoyed. “Hum! You should have joined House Telvanni! You certainly have a few more centuries ahead of you then most, even for a Dunmer. And now, more politics! Hmm, on second thought, no, you shouldn’t have joined House Telvanni. Last thing you need is a group of Battlemages testing out your apparent immortality. What word do you have from the Redorans?”

I thought about my hatred for battlemages. Yes, the last thing I needed was to join a House full of them.

“No messages, I come seeking Delyna Mandas. She may have last been here on…business”

“Delyna Mandas,…doesn’t ring a bell. But feel free to search my Tower, I don’t have time to keep track of all the comings and goings of the few visitors that I receive here.” He said with an air that clearly indicated that he didn’t care one way or the other.

I decided to ask one of Fyr’s ‘wives’ instead, and Beyte seemed to recall a ‘guest’ inside a locked room, which she was gracious enough to open for me.

The sleeping form of Delyna woke up to my gentle nudging, and she looked confused to my presence.

“Who are you?”

“My name is Sethyas. Your Grandfather sent me. You seem none the worse for wear.”

“No. Any other Telvanni would have just killed me. Divayth is a bit different. I think he just forgot about me, I’ve been a guest essentially, though against my will. Will he let me leave now?”

“Yes. Come with me. I need to get you back to Ebonheart, Llarar waits for you there, and then I must see what can be done in regards to your father.”

“My Father? Is he..”

“He’s fine….sort of. I’ll explain on the way. Oh…can you water-walk?”

“No.”

“Cast Almsivi Intervention?”

“I’m not a spellcaster. I’m an Agent.”

I rummaged around in my satchel, and produced an Almsivi Intervention Scroll, I could cast the spell myself, and we both arrived in Molag Mar, which also had an available ship to Ebonheart.

Llerar Mandas showed an affection that only family could show for one another, and he took her in a great bear hug, the cries of joy at their reunion causing an uncharacteristic show of emotion in the Grand Council Chambers.

Llerar took his ebony helm from his table, and handed it to me.

“This helm has seen the blood of countless battles. I have endured sights and sorrows that would break most men. For giving me the most precious thing in this world, the life of a loved one, I would be honored that you take this from me, and bear it with honor. You have earned an ally in House Redoran, Sethyas Velas.”

I smiled as I was genuinely taken aback by his gift.

“Not too sound too crass, General Mandas, but there is the matter of your Son as well. What can I do to alleviate his madness?”

Delyna took her necklace off and placed it in my palm.

“Show this to my Father. He will recognize it, I hope that this may bring him back to his senses. Tell him that I will come to visit as soon as is possible.”

I took the necklace and my leave, and hurried back to Ald’Ruhn via the guild guide in the Vivec Foreign Quarter.

Trudging through West Gash, I soon found the entrance to the cavern of Milk, sneaking through the corridors of the shadowy passageways I found a Nobleman sitting at a table drinking, and laughing….or crying. I couldn’t really tell the difference.

“Saint Delyn! Delyna! Sainted Daughter! DEAD! HahahahA! Ohohohoh…vivec…..save her! Almsivi….All…see..me!”

“Arethan Mandas.”

“A Guest?...Yes,yes. Do come in….I see that you are in. Do come to me then.”

“Serjo Mandas. I come with news of your daughter….”

“No! NO NOOO! Begone! Say it not.!”

“This is her necklace. Your daughter lives. She is with your Father in Ebonheart. Delyna will come to see you soon.” I said quietly, handing him the necklace. He took it and stared at it for several seconds before collapsing into tears for several minutes. I stood, waiting to see what the final effect of the news would be.

He looked up at me finally.

“Thank you. I can finally think in better categories now. Delyna is safe now. I will, I will stop with the tributes, tell Athyn I will come too visit him soon.”

“Serjo. Redoran needs you. Athyn and I need you. Will you be ready to stand with us when we need you?”

He looked gravely at me for several seconds, Sheogorath seeming to speak through him.

“Azura’s plaything,
star-blessed hand,
seeks old friend,
far beneath the mountain.

Dunmer armies rise once more,
Blighted skies rage in red,
Footsteps march to War,
With your blood to be bled.”


I looked strangely at him, wondering where he got the rhyme. It would seem that I would have to rely upon his father Llerar Mandas for Redorans Armies.

I took my leave of him, and spoke to Athyn once more.

“You did well, Sethyas. I am proud of you this day, and from what you tell me of Arethan, he may be coming around. But you have earned the trust of Llerar, which may be greater in the long run. May I suggest that you now take some time to work on the construction of your stronghold? And now that you have earned some repoire with the Councilors, you may wish to begin speaking with them, earn their trust as well. With full council report, and some bravery on your part, Venim will have no choice but too relent to make you Hortator.”

“And if he refuses?”

“Which he will, but…..”

“But, what?” I asked.

“If you were a Councilman, you would be within your rights to challenge Venim to a duel…..with the stakes being the title of Hortator.”

I raised my eyebrows.

“Now just a minute Athyn. Its taken the other councilors decades, centuries, to rise to their ranks. I’ve been a part of Redoran for a few weeks!”

“As I have said. The other Councilors and I have spoken at length about this, it would seem that this is the only way,…”

“I will be off to Galsa Gindu then….and then to Bal Isra.”

“All right, the Contract is valid. Your payment is in. I’ll have construction started immediately.” Galsa said looking up from my gold and parchment, giving me a friendly smile.

“Do I….help out?” I asked.

“Heavens no! You’re a nobleman, and that’s why you’re paying so much gold. That’s where most of it’s going, too pay for the labor.”

“There not going to use any slaves are they?” I asked disdainfully.

“Redoran rarely sees slavery in their territory. But this team is mostly Orcs. Argonians and Khajiit make terrible construction workers. There mostly relegated to plantations and household chores.” She said matter-of-factly, her cultural acceptance of slavery leaving a bad taste in my mouth.

“I want it made clear that there will be no slave labor on my land whatsoever. I’ll do the extra work if need be. Maybe I can’t change an entire culture, or even have the right to dictate terms to the Dunmeri, but the Dunmeri will not dictate terms to me either.”

“All right, Outlander. I’ll have your orders relayed to the foreman. No slaves.” She said with a sigh, the ‘outlander’ remark not so subtly thrown into her sentence.

Three days later, I was at Bal Isra in the middle of an Ashstorm checking up on construction, it was impressive that the Orcs were still working in spite of it. There was a flurry of bucket being hoisted to build the walls and housings within the stone formations.

I reflected on how far I had come from being a bandit and beggar on the streets of the Imperial City to a titled landowner. A Noble. I hated it. I couldn’t see myself as anything but Sethyas Velas; Assassin. I could even see myself as Nerevar, I could see myself facing Dagoth Ur, and falling to the Mad one in battle.

But to be one of society’s elite brought me little comfort. It simply wasn’t how I saw myself. I would always be tainted as an Outlander in Redoran anyways, so I cared little what the Nobility might think of me.

“Hey! Whaddya want? You an Ashlander?” an unusually large Orc said confronting me outside the half-built walls.

I gave him a pleasant smile. “No, I’m checking up on my stronghold, actually.”

The Orc gave me a puzzled look. “Oh..you’re…Seth…Helan?” he said trying to remember my name.

“Sethyas Velas.”

“Right, right. Hey…you’re the one that gave that weird order…No Slaves?”

“Yes. It might be strange, but I detest slavery.”

The Orc gave me a tusked smile. “You’re not from around here, are ya?”

I returned the smile. “Nope. I’m an outlander just like you.”

“Bugdul gro-Kharbush” he said extending a hand.

I shook the Orcish foreman’s hand, and I did exactly what I wasn’t supposed to do, I offered to help out on the work, which came as a surprise to most of the workers, but I refused to treat anyone like they were beneath me, besides, if it was to be my home, I wanted a hand in its birth.

The next few weeks was backbreaking labor underneath the sun, laughing at dirty jokes with the workers, getting drunk at nights telling old stories about our experiences from our native lands.

All in all it was wonderful; there is a cleansing experience to hard work. And for a change, I felt like I had actually accomplished something, and there it was, the finished stronghold of Bal Isra. Complete with walls to guard it, a Guard Tower, external housing, and at the center of it all, Velas Manor.

“She’s a beaut all right Seth. But it looks like our work here is done. It’s been nice knowing ya. Thanks again for your help. Really weird that you’d help us, but it’d be nice if more of these ‘nobles’ actually did pitch in. It’d save us a lot of trouble in the complaints that always come up…..’This staircase is curved!’ “My window lets in too much light!’ ‘Wheres the wash basin?’ Picky sons of guars!!” Bugdul laughed out.

“Well. Most of those Sons of Guars don’t even know what they really have. Me? I’m more than grateful to just have a house. A Manor at that….”

“Well she’ll hold back most any attack, I assure you of that.”

I thanked the foreman as he and his crew left, and I made use of my brand new bath to wash the grime and sweat of the last month or so off. I walked around the empty halls of my house and changed into the Redoran red silk shirt, and put on my gloves.

I would likely have to check up on Athyn, and speak with Galsa Gindu. I had all but disappeared, and I was out of contact. A dangerous thing when scheming a political overthrow.

“Serjo Velas! A pleasure to see you. Are you here about you’re stronghold?” asked Galsa Gindu.

”My stronghold is complete.”

“You’ve checked up on it then? This is good.”

“Checked it? No…I helped to build it. That’s where I’ve been these last few weeks.”

She gave me a disbelieving look that spoke of the reaction that I wanted. I was not going to be like any other Redoran Noble.

“I….see. Well. In the next few weeks Bal Isra will likely begin to attract settlers. What you need to do next is to hire a garrison. Bal Isra will mostly act as a fort between Mar Gaan and Ald’Ruhn. Speak with Percius Mercius at the Fighters Guild. See if he doesn’t have any out of work warriors that could serve this purpose.”


“You need some guards?” said the Imperial scratching his chin.

“I think we could work this out well, Sethyas. I do know a few people that would jump at the chance to serve as a Stronghold Guard. But, would you be willing to help me with a personal problem first?”

I thought the request to be a strange one, but I was getting used to scratch-my-back from people.

“What is it?”

“A friend of mine; Frelene Acques, has been imprisoned wrongly by the Hlaalu, claim that she’s the one behind ebony thefts in Caldera, but she’s taken the fall for someone else, I’m sure of it, because the thefts in Caldera are still going on. They’re just keeping it quiet, letting the attention fall on her instead of them for a while. I want you too free her.”

“You’re asking me to do something quite illegal here.”

“Will you do it though?”

“Yes, there is a point where morality and the law diverge from one another. Besides I trust a Hlaalu and his word as far as my daggers point.”

“Excellent. She is in the Hlaalu Compound Prison Cells in Vivec. When I hear word from her, I will send the men to Bal Isra.”



Within the Prison cells I stood within earshot of an Ordinator, under the pretense that I was an Investigator for House Redoran questioning a possible witness in Caldera corruption, fortunately, politics worked in my favor, as the Temple was far more willing to back Redoran then Hlaalu.

“How are you getting me out of here?” whispered the young Breton Woman.

I looked carefully over at the table next to the ordinator, and cast a simple mysticism spell of telekinesis. The key quietly floated through the air, into my black gloved hand.

I handed it through the cell bars to her.

“Leave when the time is right. Look at the guards schedules. I will leave a change of clothing and some false documents and a little gold in Saint Delyn, North Two. Proceed to Ald’Ruhn as soon as you can, got all that?”

“Yes .” she whispered taking the key from me and hiding it within the folds of her robes.

Frelene Acques was rumored to have gone into hiding after escaping prison. At least, that was the word around the Rat in the Pot, as I drank a Shein with my new ‘ally’ of sorts Aengoth the Jeweler. Soon after, a hooded figure and Percius Mercius joined the Bosmer and me at the table.

“Hello, Frelene.” I whispered, as a pair of feminine lips curled into a smile from under the hood.

“I’m Mabrelle Geles now, remember?” she whispered back.

“Nice to meet you, Mabrelle.” I laughed, then looking over at Percius.

“What’s the word on my garrison?” I asked, Percius finished his swig of Cyrodiilic Brandy.

“Already sent word, and they should be there within the week. Work is kinda tight around Vvardenfell, so you shouldn’t have a problem with any slackers, anyone acts up though, you tell me, and I’ll straighten ‘em out.”

I shrugged. “Its easy work from what I hear, Galsa Gindu already assigned a Hetman too the Stronghold. Some fella by the name of Guls….didn’t get a last name though. Not that it matters, I will rarely be there as is. I have a great deal of,….other business to attend too.”

“Like the Cammona Tong business?” squeaked out the Bosmer Thief boss, Aengoth.

“That was merely a part of it. How is Wahdarku doing in Shurinbaal anyways?” I inquired.

Aengoth grinned. “Business is good, pretty much, you stay out of our hair, and we’ll return the favor. House Redoran will never know we’re there. Hlaalu on the other hand….”

“Whatever. Just don’t do anything that would cause me to regret our arrangement; I sacrificed a great deal to get you that damn helm….here, this round’s on me. I’ve got to get going.” I said dropping a few coins on the table, and shaking Percius’ hand, and kissing ‘Mabrelle’ on the cheek, and raising an eyebrow at Aengoth as he gave me his little smile.

I made my way into the Manor District, and walking along the rope bridges was Venim, we both came face to face at the center point of the shell.

“Outlander,….you’re looking alive and well.” He said with a stare that would stop a charging Alit.

“Oh, quite. I did have a visitor in my place a few weeks ago. So sad they had to leave so suddenly though. Perhaps I’ll return the favor…” I said, with a tone that I had used with marks of writs.

Venim then strode off in a huff, his powerful physique making a thundering sound on the bridge. I smiled at the thought that he really didn’t know who he was dealing with; then again, I needed to know more about him as well. I underestimate no one, especially not the Archmaster of a Warrior House.

I am no politician, but I was getting quick lessons in politics, from assassinating councilors, to making deals with crime bosses, and now plotting to overthrow a totalitarian inside what became my House, I was amused with the thought that Nerevar may have had to do the same thing with his situation prior to the Battle of Red Mountain. Perhaps I am Nerevar after all.


I entered Sarethi Manor, and quietly looked around for Athyn, finding him reading over some old texts in his Chambers. I sat myself across from him, waiting for him to acknowledge my presence.

”I will not pray for that which I've lost
When my heart springs forth
From your soil, like a seed,
And blossoms anew beneath tomorrow's sun.”

“Have you heard any other poetry so beautifully written? Indeed, the Ashlanders are not so much a bunch of Savages that everyone else would have you believe, my boy! There is culture and wisdom in these words”

I blinked at Athyn. “I know. I am an adopted Ashlander. Sul-Matuul is an Ashkhan whom I respect deeply; he is one of the most honorable people I have ever met, indeed, he and his tribe were willing to listen to an Outlander claiming to be Nerevarine, much like yourself.” I gestured to Sarethi’s seated form.

Athyn smiled at this. “It is a strange world, Sethyas. But, pray tell me, what business has kept you from Ald-Ruhn these many weeks?”

”Working on my Stronghold, mostly. Venim sent me a visitor from my other job recently. You were right about him seeing me as a threat now, I have come to consult with you as to what our next move shall be.”

“Good. I have spoken to the other councilors about you, and they are ready to accept another member on the council, provided that you can prove to each of them that you are worthy of such a position. I have….kept the Nerevarine and Hortator matters to myself until the time is right. And the time is fast approaching, be prepared. But….I do thank you for all you have done, and for your seemingly infinite patience.” He said giving me a fatherly gaze.

“Patience comes with my trade, and I have been honored to have schemed with one as kind and honorable as you. Redoran deserves better then Venim. Redoran deserves you Sarethi,….perhaps after all this, you shall be the one to lead the house.”

“No. I am far too old, and I have lost far too much to even see myself willing to take that burden upon my shoulders. Venim will relent, or the Council will take back control. But, the next step shall involve you speaking with, and performing tasks for the council. I suggest you start with Hlaren Ramoran, his needs are worldly, and should not provide you with too much trouble. Keep one eye behind your back however, Venim is not to be trusted, now more then ever.”

“I’m used to it by now. But still sound advice, Serjo.” I said getting up and exiting Sarethi Manor for Ramorans.

I presented myself to the Councilman whom dressed in the traditional red robes of the Red Party of Redoran. He was as Sarethi described, wordly, concerned mostly with his day to day affairs, and what he could see, though a fault, it was hard to hold it against him, I did not see a noble, I saw a child that had everything handed to him on a limeware platter, and wasn’t sure of his place in the world.

“Greetings House Cousin, what do you ask of the Lord of West Gash?” Councilor Ramoran said with his jeweled rings clinking as he interlaced his fingers, sitting in a plush Chamber Chair.

“Greetings, Councilman. I assume that Councilman Sarethi has spoken with you about my rankings within House Redoran?”

”Athyn has told me that an Outlander in the house may be the Councils best hope in overthrowing Venims hold over it, yes. Whether that is true remains to be seen, if you are willing to take the risks upon yourself, so be it. If you wish my support in becoming a Councilman, I am willing to extend that support to you, provided that you are able to show me that you are capable of that burden.”

“What would you ask of me, Serjo?”

“I would like you to recover some taxes from Gnisis.” He stated matter of factly.

I cringed inside, thinking that there was some string, some catch. Why would a Councilor offer his support over something so menial?

“Very well. I am at your service. Whom should I speak with?”

“Hetman Abelmawia, he should have the gold and documentation that you will need to bring to me. Present to him this letter that states you are my representative.” He said handing a parchment sealed with the House Redoran signet.

I arrived in Gnisis a few hours later, wondering what the hell was going on, and proceeded to Hetman Abelmawia’s hut.

An inquisitive face opened the door to my knocking. “Yes?”

“Greetings, Sera. I come from Councilor Ramoran. I have come to collect the taxes, here is his letter showing I am his representative.”

He took the letter, and read it to himself, then smiled, and rummaged around his chest.

“Here you go. The taxes are six hundred drakes in all, and here is the Tax report. He said handing me an unsealed scroll.

I took the gold, report and my leave, arriving to Ramoran Manor in the dusk hours.

“Ah, you’ve returned. Have you the taxes?” Hlaren said sipping on a Vintage Brandy.

I took out the report, and reached for the sack of gold when Hlaren took the report first, and read a part out loud.

“Okay, looks like everything is in order. And the three hundred drakes the report says you have?”

“THREE Hundred? There must be some mistake,….Abelmawia said the takes were Six Hundred....” I said dumping the contents onto his desk, and sorting through gold pieces.

Ramoran’s hand fell over mine.

“Serjo…I didn’t take any. If need be I’ll replace it from my own coffers….”

Ramoran smiled at me. “Relax my boy. There is Six Hundred Drakes here. I wasn’t sending you to collect taxes, though this ‘report’ does say three hundred drakes, and it certainly looks like six hundred drakes are here.”

I groaned as I finally got it.

“You were testing my honor….”

“Yes, even though Three Hundred Drakes was a meager amount, it’s still enough to tempt even the most honorable of men. You did not expect a payment for acting as a courier, and your reaction to my statement of the amount of the ‘taxes’ was genuine. This tells me two things, one, that you understand duty. Two, that in spite of your deceptive nature that Athyn describes, you don’t use it for personal gain, and you have earned my trust. I am sorry that I had to test you like that, but I had to be sure of whom I was dealing with.”

I cocked my head to the side. “You Councilors are not as aboveboard as you’re reputed to be.”

Hlaren let out a great laugh. “Politics, my boy. Nothing is what it seems.”

“But would you be willing to provide me with one more service? This time it is a real one, and it is a simple favor I have to ask.” He said with friendly smile.

I smiled back. “After what you just said about me, how could I refuse?”

He laughed once more. “I would like you to find an old friend of mine. A one Nalvilie Saren. I am not sure where she may be living now, but if you do find her, tell her that the past is gone, and all is forgiven, I would like her to join me in my household.”

I nodded my head. “I have a way of finding people.” I said referring to my rank in the Morag Tong, though not to Hlaren.

”I believe that the Sarens in Vivec may know where she is staying now. I have not called upon them in many years, but they should be willing to speak with you about it however.”

I made my way to Vivec, with the name Saren seemingly oddly familiar. Where on nirn had I heard that name before?

Then it hit me.

Toris Saren was the third victim I had honorably executed in the name of the Morag Tong. He was long dead now. But, perhaps it would be worth a try, no doubt that the Sarens would not recognize me in my Redoran clothes, sans the Colovian Fur Helm.

Besides, Toris Saren was what I hated in nobles, a man whom considered himself above others because of his coffers. I enjoyed taking his life. I would have done it for free, the gold and the legality of the execution was just a bonus to me.

In the Redoran Canton, I once more knocked upon the door of Saren Manor, this time as a Redoran, instead of posing as a Redoran Courier.

“May I help you?” asked the same old Dunmer Woman who had answered the door before, this time a certain sadness glinted her aged eyes, thankfully recognition did not.

“Greetings, pardon the intrusion Kinswoman. I come on the behest of a Councilor to find a particular Saren. Nalvilie Saren as it were.”

“Nalvilie? That Trollop?! She’s a shame to the family. The only one of us who could stomach talking to her was Toris……and….I’m afraid he’s dead, outlander. He was executed by the Morag Tong months ago…..please….just leave. You bring too many bad memories with you.” She said gently closing the door, tears welling up in her eyes.

I stood there for a moment, facing the sorrow that I had brought. It was a sorrow I knew all to well. I, too, have lost family because of the Assassin’s world. But that was my lot.

I decided to pay a visit to the Grandmaster, as we had not spoken in some time, not since the Ieneth writ. Plus, he might know where Nalvilie was.

“Sethyas! Do come in Exalted Master! Let me gaze upon Nerevar once more.” Eno chided me with his semi-warm countenance.

“Have you given any more thought to becoming Grandmaster one day?” he asked.

“Not lately, Eno. I am…otherwise occupied. Redoran has turned out to be a major boulder in my path, one that I am in the middle of climbing.”

“Ah, yes. How could I have forgotten? Goren tells me that your nobility now…could be dangerous, eh?” He said slightly laughing.

“You mean Rayne Alas fulfilling the writ on me?” I said with a mock frown.

“Yes, well. We couldn’t refuse it. Not without revealing your place in our guild, Goren sends his apologies, but knew that you would understand, citing that it might have upset your plans within Redoran should he have refused.”

“It might have. I fully know and accept the risks of being a member of the house. Besides, Goren is the one giving me advice, he knows well what must be done to bring my plans to fruition. I will speak with him when I have the chance, in the meantime, do you think you assist me in finding someone?”

“Of course, whom do you seek?” Eno asked with an open countenance.

“Nalvilie Saren.”

Eno face showed me that he recognized the name. Perhaps that’s an understatement.

“Pleasure or Business?” he asked me.

“I take it you know her?”

“She is much blown upon as the Ashlanders say, I admit, I have enjoyed her services myself, though that was long ago. I believe that she still lives here in Vivec, running a clothier service out of her home. Saint Olms I believe.” He said with a reminiscent gaze.

“Well then, I have a stop to make with her then. I will return soon Grandmaster.” I said taking my leave.

“Mephala be with you.” He said, nodding his head.

“Oh, you did not answer my question, though, Sethyas.’

I turned around with my brow raised.

“Is it pleasure or business?” he asked with a mischievous grin.

I groaned as I walked out of the Hidden guildhall and to the Saint Olms Canton. Asking around, I learned that she did have an apartment in South Two, and I promptly knocked on her door.

“Well. You don’t much look like you need my services, Redoran. Need a button sewn on?” An old Dunmer Maiden asked me.

“Nalvilie Saren?” I inquired.

“I am she. What do you want exactly?”

“I come on the behest of Hlaren Ramoran. He sends me with the message that the past is forgiven, and that he wishes to rekindle the friendship you two once shared.”

“Ha! That little thing wants to make up for the past does he? I never liked the way he doted on me, following me like a little scrib. Tell him no. Even in this dump, I’m far happier then he could ever make me.”

I looked around her dumpy apartment, and I felt a twinge of compassion. This old woman had suffered her whole life, and from what I could gather from what others said about her, she was once a prostitute. I knew that she likely could barely afford to live here much less enjoy the remaining years she had.

I looked at her selection of clothing, and picked up a common shirt that had yellow sleeves, and a green vest. I pulled out a large coinpurse, I estimated it at two thousand septims.

“This is a nice shirt, I’ll take it.” I said throwing the sack on her table, and I began to walk out.

“Oh no you don’t! I take charity from no one!” she said reaching for the purse.

“It’s not charity. I’m just buying a shirt. Take the damn gold, and enjoy your damn life, Nalvilie.” I said walking out.

I was thinking to myself what the best method of relaying a uninterested woman’s words to a worldly councilor might be. But as I waited in Ramoran Manor for Hlaren to finish his morning meetings, Nalvyna Sarinith, a bodyguard of his asked me how it went with Nalvilie.

“Not well.” I said with grim expression.

“It is a shame, I swore an oath to protect Serjo Ramoran. I only wish that…..no it is wrong too even think it….” She trailed off, returning to her post.

Ramoran exited his chamber, followed by another Redoran Noble who took his leave, his face grew into a smile as he saw me, his arms opening wide.

“Sethyas, my boy! Tell me something good!”

I gave a quick glance over Nalvyna, whom looked upon Hlaren with more then just a desire to protect him.

“I regret to inform you, good Serjo, Nalvilie has passed on.” I said with a sad tone.

Hlaren’s elated mood visibly lowered. “Dead? I suspected that might be the case. Not your fault though, you did as I would ask. And you have my support on the council.”

”Serjo. Have you ever given thought to what might be right under your nose?” I said, Nalvyna giving a little squeak.

“I don’t understand.”

I leaned in to whisper. “Nalvyna over there seems to have affection for your lordship. Do not waste a good opportunity, or a good woman.”

“Nalvyna? I never thought…but no, it would be improper, I am so old, she is so young...”

“Serjo, if she is young, then she can bear you many children to carry the Ramoran name. Besides, no one would look down upon love where love shows itself, how often does loves radical nature present itself as what we expect it to be?”

“I will give this some thought; it is time to let the past go after all. Thank you, my boy. Your words have given me a new look on this matter. You will go far in Redoran Politics.”

He turned from me, and spun towards Nalvyna, who was looking rather pale for a Dunmer. He took a few steps towards her and then asked her a question.

“Nalvyna. Breakfast would not be the same without your presence too grace it.” He said extending a hand to the small of her back.

As the two of them exited the room, Nalvyna turned her head and mouthed the words, ‘thank you’ to me. I followed suit and exited as well.

I came into Athyn’s Manor in the middle of their breakfast as well. I kissed Domesea, Athyns wife on the cheek, and joined Athyn at his side.

“Well, it looks like I have Ramorans support for the council now.” I said stuffing my face with fruit and scrib jelly.

“Do tell. This meal was getting rather dull.” Domesea said playfully.

The rest of the meal was my descriptions of Ramorans ‘test’ and Nalvilie Saren, whose name brought a raised brow and furtive glance between Sarethi and his wife. Then when I told them of Nalvyna, Domesea reacted with a high-pitched “Mother, Lord, and Wizard! She too young for him!” Athyn reacted with a hearty and bellowing laughter.

“I told that Old Guar that, but did he listen or remember? No! HA!” Athyn said pounding the table with his fist in mirth.

Domesea looked over at Athyn with a shocked expression. “ATHYN! It’s not proper! She young enough to be his daughter!”

Athyn waved her off. “Oh pshaw! They said the same thing about us! So don’t you go cackling about this to the other hens!”

The merriment of the moment was broken with a Guard hurriedly entering the Chambers.

“Councilman! There’s been an attack! Morvayn Manor has been overrun by Blight Beasts!” The Redoran Guard rasped out in a panicked tone.

My chair flipped over as I ran out of Sarethis House, unsheathing my Daedric Katana, adrenaline pumping through my system, I ran outside of the crabshell, the ashy dirt of Ald’Ruhn kicking up around me as I ran to the smoke the exited the door of Morvayn Manor.

I ran inside, finding nothing at first, but then heard the sounds of battle from the lower floor of the house. Running down the stairs, I saw a Redoran Noble in battle with a powerful Lame Corprus. Though he fought valiantly, it was too late, and the creatures powerful arm swung in a wide arc, breaking the Mers Neck.

I yelled in a mixture of shock and anger, using my Corprus strength to slice through the beast, leaving a beheaded clump of massive flesh.

I searched frantically throughout the rest of the manor for a survivor. Finding only more Corprus monsters, I sheathed my blade in them as well.

Then, I saw a sight I did not want to see. On the floor scribbled in chalk, was the House Dagoth symbol. My brow knitted in anger and fear as I entered a room with a Corprus Stalker adorning a crate with an Ash Statue.

I sliced through the thing, and grabbed the Ash Statue off the crate, the jeweled eyes glinting in mockery at me. When I was sure the Manor was clear, I immediately left for the temple.

“Can you feel the enchantment on this one Lloros? I’m certain that this summoned those creatures to Morvayn Manor, and killed the Councilor.”

”Alas, he must not have gotten the word. And it cost him dearly. I will inform the guard to make a house to house announcement that the citizenry turn these things in, should they have it. I will destroy this statue. You….may wish to tell Brara Morvayn that her husband is dead.”

“She escaped? Good. Its….” I trailed off leaving the statue with Lloros.

I returned to the Council Hall entrance to learn of Mistress Brara Morvayns location, and was told that she and two of her guards were in temporary quarters.

I knocked on her door, and was greeted by a Dunmer with a scarred face and steel armor.

“Hail, Kinsman. Do you come with news of Morvayn Manor?” the guard said with a grim tone.

“Yes.” I said, just as grimly.

“She’s in the back. Just drop it on her gently.”

”Is she in hysterics?”

“You might think so, but the Mistress is a very strong woman, she can take it, if she doesn’t already know.”

I entered the back room, and saw a strong, confident woman whom had shed her tears already, and was taking command of the situation.

“Is he…?”

“I’m afraid so.” I said nodding, and looking down at the ground.

“They told me how you ran in there without a thought for your own safety, that was….good of you.”

I shook my head. “It’s easy to say such things in afterthoughts, but I did what any other Redoran would have done for another. Please. I am not what you think I am. But, I did have a question should you not mind it.”

“I would not mind it.” She said softly.

“The Ash Statue in the house, do you remember it?”

She thought for a moment to herself. “I think so. It never really popped out in my mind; we thought it was a Ashlander artwork.”

“It’s the symbol of House Dagoth, the fallen Sixth House. It was enchanted to attract the Blight Beasts. I have taken care of it already.”

”Sweet Almalexia. Why did this fall upon us? But, for your selflessness in this matter, I would wish to help you as well.”

I shook my head in disgust. This was no time for ‘rewards’ as it were.

“No you misunderstand. Athyn and my husband have been talking for some time,…about..you know.” She said eyeing her guard.

“He knew about you, and so did I. With my husband’s death, I now hold his seat on the Council, I wish to do what he sought to as well, on top of the fact that you did help me as true Redoran would. As a Councilwoman of House Redoran, you have my support on the Council.”

I looked slowly upwards too the Mistress’ face, there was a clarity in her eyes, and a determination to see things through. I would not question her or her judgment.

“Then, you have my thanks.” I said simply.

“And, you have mine.” She said strongly, taking my hands in hers and kissed me on my cheek.

I left her quarters for Athyns manor once more, and we spoke of the situation over a midday drink.

“I am truly sorry for my friend’s death. Councilor Morvayn was a good man, and he would have been a strong supporter of yours. But, in the passing of all this, you now have a stronger supporter in his Wife, you did a good thing today, Sethyas. There is cause for both sorrow and joy. When Morvayn Manor is cleansed, and the ancestral funerary rites are finished in three days time, come speak with me once more. The Sixth House is claiming many good souls in its wake, and its time we put hurried our plot.”

The council had joined Brara Morvayn in her grief and rites for her husband’s death, and had returned, as Athyn had said, in three days time. The Redoran virtue of gravity was the atmosphere in Ald’Ruhn more so then usual.

“Well, now. The time for crying over old friends is done, if I am too honor his death, it would be respect his wishes that Redoran not be led by a corrupted taint such as Bolvyn Venim. I believe now that you should speak with Miner Arobar. Though, he has been strangely reluctant to speak of your position in the council as of late. Perhaps you could use your diplomacy to figure out why, you are far better at reading people then I, Sethyas.” Said Athyn over a hackle-lo with me.

I made my way to Miner Arobars manor, a man who was reputed to hold vast amount of words. Not skilled in speechcraft, mind you, dear reader. Just reputed to hold vast amount of words that would spill forth in an unceasing fashion without warning.

Which was strange, as he had only a few words to share with me.

“You’re the outlander? I’m sorry, I cannot give you my support on the council.” Arobar said looking up at me from his desk.

I was tempted to say something, but I did not see hate or disrespect in the Councilors eyes. I saw a desperate pleading for me to either leave or help. Perhaps they were one in the same, in this situation.

“Yes, of course. Forgive me, Councilman. I shall take my leave.”

Athyn’s reaction was also predictable. “He refused to speak with you? Hmmm. Then there may be some truth to the rumors after all.”

“Rumors?”

“There is a rumor that one of the Telvanni Lords has been influencing Miner. Based on this, and recent votes in the Council, I believe it more then ever. I want you to travel to Sadrith Mora, and find out what you can. I am well known as a Redoran, but you are still an outlander to them, as well an Assassin, retrieving information should be second nature to you.”

I laughed. “Yes, and….yes. I will depart in the morning hours. Sheesh. This seems to be unrelenting in tasks and espionage for just one man. Venim is indeed a worthy political foe.”

”He has also a few more centuries practice at it then you, but, so do I. Think of this as your training in politics…..House Brother.”

“Another ranking?”

“Yes, you did well in Morvayn Manor. Even Venim conceded that you were worthy of it.”

“Well, consider the circumstances. But maybe it goes to show that he isn’t without compassion.”

“Don’t let it weaken your resolve, Sethyas. I hate to say it, but you must remain cold and calculating.”

I smiled. “I said that HE had compassion. I am an Assassin.” I said departing to Bal Isra.

In my stronghold I finally made greetings with my Hetman. Guls was his name, an experienced Scout of House Redoran.

“Greetings, House Brother! Welcome home!” he said to me cheerfully his chitin armor slightly marred with Ash from the surrounding wastes.

“It is good to be home. Is there any matters to report?” I asked looking over the new Garrison.

”No. Matters are good. We have opened an Inn as well, which is bringing us an excellent income on travelers from Mar Gaan and Gnisis. Your recovered loot from these bandit caves are selling well with the trader also, Estate expenses are minimal, and I’m keeping the Guard from getting too bored by keeping the roads clear with routine patrols. Nothing to bad, except for the occasional ‘racer. But a few bolts in the beak, and the fetcher comes right down!”

“So everything is good, I am glad.”

”There is one thing though….”

I raised my eyebrows.

“It’s not really a ‘problem’ but I promised the men that I would speak to you about it.”

“By all means.”

“We need wives.”

“Wives?” I said, actually surprised.

“Yes, the stronghold is rather isolated, and a Feminine presence could certainly loosen up the atmosphere around here. As the Lord of the estate, I thought that the matter could be brought to your attention.”

“Always, I am here for you all. Anything you need, ask…..but this is certainly….different.” I said confused as to how I was going to get women to come to an isolated stronghold filled with lonely men.

“Well, if you think of anything, we would appreciate it.” Guls said with an understanding tone.

“Tell them…well, telling them that I will look into it will sound trite, but tell them I will do what I can.”

“Somehow, I know you will.” Guls said with a slight smile.

I drank at the bar in Velas Manor, and retired to my chambers, which were right across from it anyways. I hoped I wouldn’t make to much use of it.

My mind began going over the needs of finding out what was influencing Arobar. Sadrith Mora, perhaps the mouths. No, they were the servants of the Councilors. A local pub, would help. Yes. Dirty Muriels. Thieves Guild.

Awaking to an ashstorm prompted me to wear my Red Robes of the Morag Tong, with a newly made hood to match made by one of my residents, whom was a tailor by trade. I decided to wear the Dark Brotherhood Armor underneath them as well, as who knew what I would be facing in Sadrith Mora. To complete my ensemble, I wore my trademark Black Gloves.

I strode through the Ashlands to Ald’Ruhn, and took the Guild Guide to Sadrith Mora, I wanted as quiet an entrance as was possible. And I made my way into the Thieves hangout.

“Miner Arobar? The Redoran Councilor, I have heard a rumor, yes. What’s it worth to you?” Asked Muriel the ‘proprietor’ of Dirty Muriels.

I pulled out a small sack of coins.

“Hmm, all right. The word around town is that Neloth, that is the Telvanni Mage Lord of Sadrith Mora here, has got Arobar’s daughter locked up nice and tight for ‘safekeeping’ to turn Redoran Council decisions more into his favor. Not even Telvanni Council favor, it would seem, the Telvanni are hardly a close-knit set of friends, you know what I mean?”

I nodded, my red eyes glinting from inside the shadow of my hood, my tattoo adding to the darkened effect.

I made my way to Tel Naga, the giant mushroom that served as Lord Neloth's’s stronghold. Inside I found a trio of robed Dunmer in heavy armor.

Battlemages.

I hate battlemages.

“Word about town is that you ‘gents got something that doesn’t belong to you.” I said quietly, my face looking to the ground.

The trio surrounded me, making a triangle. They were obviously guarding something.

“This doesn’t concern you outlander. Nartise won’t be leaving because the Morag Tong shows up saying otherwise.” Said one of the battlemages, referring to my robes, even though I was here on Redoran business.

Quick as a viper, my left hand slammed into the chest of the battlemage unfortunate to be standing there, as he became the victim of my new spell. Mephala’s Palm, a heavy Damage Health spell on touch, moving in concert, my right arm flew upwards, the momentum releasing the Daedric Dagger into my grip.

As the Mer fell to his knees in shock over the spell, my right hand came flying down, slicing the Mers throat in a wide arc, spattering blood across the mushrooms tan floor.

The Mer in front of me reacted by conjuring a Bound Battle-Axe, and brought the weapon slamming down on top of me, I backstepped easily, and his weapon made a loud ‘thunk’ as it sliced its way through the floor. I quickly jumped onto the handle of the summoned Daedra and brought my knee crashing into the battlemages jaw, a sickening crack was heard, and he fell unconscious to the floor.

The Mer to my right, had the right Idea, and that was to keep his distance, and by the time I had knocked out the second guard. He had summoned a Dremora to take some of the battle off him.

I would not waste my time with the Daedra, as I knew that as soon as the Battelmage was dead, he would disappear, I used my skill in acrobatics to jump to a ledge, which was followed by the sounds of a crossbow firing and bolts thudding in the wall next to me.

Fortunately, the Mer was a horrible shot. And I had time to nock an arrow, and aimed for his shoulder. The whistling sound was complimented with a grunt.

“Ya missed my Heart, Assassin! Come on down, and face me like a man!” he taunted me, as a smile curled up under my hood.

“I wasn’t aiming for the heart, I just needed the penetration.” I said in a quiet raspy tone, my sentence was followed by his corpse falling to the floor as the poison took full effect.

There was a quiet in the room for a moment, and then a feminine voice broke the silence.

“H-Hello?”

“Where are you?” I called out, jumping down from the ledge where I had the marksman duel with the Battlemage.

“In here, see the barred windows?” said the voice.

I did see them, and then saw the Dunmer Maiden behind them.

“Nartise Arobar?” I asked.

“Yes, did my father hire the Tong to rescue me?”

I pushed my hood back. “No, I am a House Brother in Redoran. We suspected that there might be something influencing your father. It seems we’ve uncovered the plot, come with me.”

She took my hand with strange look. “You don’t fight like a Redoran.”

”You mean with a tin suit and a shield and cudgel? No, I prefer subtlety.”

We took our leave out of the tower, and made our way too Wolverine Hall, the Guild Guide transporting us back to Ald’Ruhn.

Miner Arobar was overjoyed to see his daughter once more, and I was beginning to muse that I was the savior of Redoran Children, first Varvur, then Delyna Mandas, and now Nartise Arobar. Not very attentive parents it would seem, but they were all grown and free to make their own decisions.

“You have saved my daughter, of course you will have my support on the council! And more then that, please, take my amulet, it is enchanted with both protection from fire, and fire damage. And moreso, please take this as a symbol of your rank in House Redoran, I present to you your own Master’s Helm!” Arobar said handing me the same style helm I had recently stolen from Llethri.

“I thank you, Councilman, and please, be more trusting in your kin to help you with these matters in the future.” I politely chided him.

He responded with his reputed command of multiple words in a unceasing fashion, as to WHAT he actually said, I cannot fully remember, in fact he was still talking as I left him to make a quick stop to Llethri Manor.

“Ah! Here for seconds?” Fathasa Llethri greeted me coyly.

“Does your Husband know about the helm gone missing yet?” I asked directly, ignoring her flirtation.

“No. He’s still poring over Calderan records trying to figure out some way to shut them down, too busy to pay me any mind.” She said tracing her face down to her bosom.

“Then please put this in the chest to replace it. I won’t have much need of it.” I said giving her the helm.

“You know House Brother. I still got your Ironwood Nuts in a cracker. All I would have to do is tell Bolvyn what you did, and it’s out the House you go, possibly even face an execution…..” she said in a sing-song voice.

I grabbed her arms in frustration, her face now showing shock.

I whispered malevolently. “You know what, Fathasa? Shut up. Venim can’t protect you forever, so stop trying to hide behind his shadow that he casts on our House! I suggest you start acting like a Redoran Lady should, and pay more mind to the vows and oaths you took when you married Garisa, else that floor under you that you believe is secure, could buckle in and you find yourself in a very deep hole.”

I than released my grip, slightly pushing her, so that she plopped down on her bed, and I took my leave as she thought of something to say to rebut.

Athyn was practicing swordplay with Varvur in the Guards Quarters as I walked in on the clanging of swords.

“Excellent, son, now, turn your right foot to the side, and bend your left knee slightly, and Thrust!” Athyn instructed, as Varvurmade a nice twist into the air with the tip of his steel saber.

“What have you to report, Sethyas?” said Athyn looking up from his stance, clanging his steel shortsword against Varvurs.

“Arobar will support me, it turns out that Gothren was holding onto his daughter. That was influencing his decisions.”

“Excellent. It sounds like things are beginning to sway into our favor. One last councilor stands before you and becoming a full Councilor, Garisa Llethri has the most magnamonious request of you, he has heard of your deeds, and wishes to use your unique talents. Speak with him to learn more. Otherwise, you’re doing far beyond anything I would have expected of you.”

“Well, I have another matter about my settlement that I need to look into. I need to convince some women to move there and settle. Easier said then done.”

Athyn looked introspective for a moment.

“There are plenty of young things around town you could talk too.” He mused.

“Well, all things aside, I need rest. Its been a hell of a day.”

Bal Isra was quickly becoming my new home. Inside my chambers I set up a small memorial too Setsuna: A lock of her hair.

I never wrote of the events that followed my confrontation of the Night Mother and Setsuna’s attempt on my life, because it was simply too painful before now. Though I laid dying succumbing to a powerful poison; Nine-Toes, a hunter by trade, and an experienced Imperial Intelligence Agent engaged Setsuna directly after she stabbed me, perhaps she did not realize that Argonians are immune to poison, and her slashes had little effect, and he was forced to kill her, she had gone mad with hate over betrayal.

Betrayal that came from me. I had lied to her for years, a hate that the Dark Brotherhood had used and twisted to achieve their goal. Elimination of the Morag Tong, once and for all. They perhaps had come close, but it cost them dearly. It also cost me dearly; I learned then that victory does not come without sacrifice.

Soon after, I returned too the ruins of Ald Sotha, and did indeed find her body, a blade wound through her abdomen, lying in a pool of her own blood. I hated myself more then ever in that moment. Though it Nine-Toes blade, it may as well have been my hand. Though the Dunmer Custom was Ancestral tombs, I carried her body to shores of Lake Amaya. I dug for what seemed like an eternity. No Mubcrab or Necromancer would have her.

Before I lay her to her final resting place, I tore the black leather of her armor from her; she would not rest as an Assassin. I cut a lock of her hair, and kissed her beautiful face one last time.

I did consider ending my trade then and there; I considered walking away from the Blades, and the Morag Tong.

But, blaming my trade or my guilds did not change the fact that it was only my choices that killed my Sister. Love demands the highest virtues of us. A demand that I did not live up too. Rest in peace, beloved Sister.

Forgive my melancholy, but I have lost much. Indeed, perhaps the only thing I ever cared for. House Redoran has been open to me. Though I speak lowly of the Archmaster, Bolvyn Venim, the House as a whole is honorable warriors, Athyn Sarethi has acted as my patron, and has become the father I never had, though I have never said these things to him, I believe that in his heart he knows.

He has also been acting as my co-conspirator in bringing down the Archmaster, I have deceived, killed, stolen, rescued, been seduced, and acted very un-Redoranlike to uphold the highest ideal of House Redoran.

Duty.

Duty has driven me these weeks and months, in pursuing the prophecies of the Nerevarine, in pursuing the title of Hortator for the three Houses.

I am no mindless soldier whom follows the orders of a non-present Daedra, but I know the evils of the Sixth House. I know when it is time to stand against ones enemies, when War is the only option. Perhaps the fact that I am Nerevar is irrelevant, I do not remember anything from the first era, I do not remember the false gods when they were mere mortals like me.

But all that mattered was that I acted now. And now, I walked from Bal Isra to Llethri Manor to seek out the approval of the final councilor, Garisa Llethri.

Upon entering the Manor, I was greeted by servants, guards, and of course, Fathasa.

“Greetings House Brother. What business brings you to my home today?” she said with an attitude that had completely changed from the last time we spoke. She was acting like a Redoran Lady.

“I seek the counsel of your husband, I believe he has been expecting me.”

“Yes, Serjo. Follow me if you will.” She said amiably, and departing for Garisa Llethri’s chambers.

While following her I did manage to whisper out. “You seem different.” To which she did not respond, and she gave me a curt smile as she opened the door to Councilor Llethri’s Chambers.

“Garisa. Serjo Velas has come to call upon you.” She said into the room, to which a rasp Dunmer voice replied “Send him in, please.”

I entered an office that reeked of hackle-lo and flin, a sign of sleepless nights of study. The papers strewn about confirmed my suspicions.

The aged Mer gave me a difficult smile, his white hair stylishly tied behind his scalp, but the thin physique was also well toned, the sign of a warrior, his heavy steel armor hanging on the wall behind him did not make me doubt his ability to wear it.

“Ah. Sethyas Velas. Let me look at you…yes. Just as Athyn described you. You’re the Assassin who looks to overthrow Venim, and the other councilors speak well of you. You do realize of course I require a task to be completed before you receive my support?” he said with an expectant look.

I nodded.

“Superb! What I want from you is no small task. In fact, I’ll be asking you to perform some investigations into what I believe was an act of war on Hlaalu’s part. The Caldera Ebony Mines.”

I looked to the right slightly, the rumors surrounding Sera Llethri’s obsession with Caldera were not exaggerations. Though most Redoran’s were outraged over Caldera, Llethri took it to another level.

“I’ve been poring over these records for weeks now, schedules, productivity, amount of ebony sold versus amount of ebony mined, on and on, but I then realized. I was looking too closely. Do you know what is wrong with these reports?” he asked me handing me a sheaf of parchments.

I looked over them quickly looking at the figures and the numbers, with one thing in common. Week after week, though varying slightly in the numbers, all added up.

“Nothing. There is no discrepancy, no workers reported as late, all the ebony reported matches the Imperial Census and Excise’ count. One might think that at least once or twice someone would be greedy enough too pilfer at least one ore. These reports are doctored, fakes. Just a public face to hide whatever may really be going on.” I said.

“Exactly! It took me a month to realize what you took a second to figure out, Velas. I know that there is something going on, and you’re going to find out.”

“I see. Assuming I do find something, what do we intend to do about it?”

“We shut them down! We send Hlaalu home packing, take it back by force if necessary.”

”And if the operation is, in fact, honest?”

“Which I doubt, this is the Godless Hlaalu we’re talking about Velas! But should your investigations show that they are in a very rare circumstance acting honestly; I will give you my support.”

I blinked, and thought in a moment of consideration. It certainly didn’t involve saving another Redoran child, or tricking me too see if I had any honor.

“I will do it. I will go to Caldera to see what I can’t uncover. Give me at least a week.” I said with a hand clasp to a satisfied Councilman.

So where does one go to uncover secret information in a town that is both imperial and Hlaalu and dedicated to making money, and keeping there mouth shut? To a fellow secret agents house of course. Being a member of the blades did give me somewhat of an advantage of knowing where to go for information. And as Caius was no longer in Vvardenfell, that made me the ranking Blades agent, and Surane Leoriane was assigned to the very thing I needed.

“Operative, I do hope the day finds you well. It’s been so long since you first came to me as an Apprentice! Can I interest you in some tea?” Surane’s lilting voice greeted me as I stepped through her door.

“Please.” I said looking around the house, the Imperial Crest placed directly above her fireplace. It was a nice house I had to admit.

As we sat down, and went through the formal chit-chat, and discussing my mission for the emperor, not that I claimed any undying loyalty to him, we arrived to the topic that interested me most.

“Evidence of Corruption?” Surane said in surprise. “If I had that, I’d be on the first boat back to the mainland!” she said laughing.

“Well then, I believe we can help each other here then. I assume you haven’t found it because you have to also maintain your identity. No good to the Blades if you were caught skulking around the Governors Hall, I however, have no such restraints. Give me your best guess as to where I should start looking…” I asked as she started to look up at the ceiling, her face deep in thought.

“There’s two I’d look closest at. Odral Helvi, or Cunius Plenius, there both corrupt as a kagouti in a scrib farm. But,….”

“But, what?” I asked.

“If you ask me, they both have separate agendas. You might be able to convince one to rat out the other. Perhaps you could bribe them?”

“Hmmm,….or scare them a bit, make them think the walls are closing in, and offer them a chance to get out scot-free in exchange for information. Very similar to the tactics used by the Guard…..I like it.”

“Ask me, and you were born to be a Blade.” She said with a slight giggle.

I rolled my eyes as I finished my tea and took my leave. Even if her statement were true, I was hardly the poster boy for an Empire Lover.

Who was weaker though? An Imperial Charter holder, or a Dunmer Houseman? The answer was more obvious than Cunius’ bald head shining in the middle of the Governors Hall.

Dunmer have centuries to practice deception and resolve. Imperials however are much more short-lived, and generally give in more quickly to there impulses. The trick in this case would be to generate the desired impulse in this particular Imperial.

Dressed in my Morag Tong Robes, with the hood pulled down as far as I could with out impairing my sight, I approached the merchant at his desk, placing a hand at his desk.

“Yes? I don’t think that you and I have any reason to talk. So state your business.”

“My business is ending the corruption at the mines. My name is not important, but know that I am a loyal servant of the Emperor.”

Cunius made a motion for the two Dunmer in the hall to leave. And he looked at me as directly in the eyes as he could.

“What are you implying?” he said firmly.

“There is no implication. We know all about the skimming of the Ebony off the top, you should know better then to come in between the Empire and it’s money. The question remains, who is going down for it? You, or Odral Helvi? I assure you it is only a matter of time before one, if not both of you, have your necks stretched for treason. After all, the ebony belongs to the Emperor, not you.”

“N-n-now just hang …um I mean wait a minute, I only took a few pieces for myself! Odral’s the one who’s doing a full-blown redirecting of funds to buy some new land! Surely the Empire doesn’t care so much about a few pieces!”

“A likely story! One that you will have extreme difficulty in proving.” I said in a tone that I had used with my marks.

“I can prove it! Here, take this key, there is a ledger in Odral’s chest, in his room, right now. He’s down at the mines right now, so you’ll have time to retrieve it before he gets back, just-just don’t tell him I said anything, and you’ll go easy on me right?’

I smiled as I took the key.

“If I find what you describe, then you’ll effectively have proven that you have nothing to do with it. You may even be allowed to continue running the mine, provided that you know how to keep your nose clean.”

The Imperial’s relief was visible, along with the excellent deal I had just made him, despite the fact that he had no idea who I was.

I made use of the opportunity before he had a chance to think about it, and I rummaged my way through his chest, and hidden underneath a few gold-trimmed series of the ‘brief history of the empire” I found what I was looking for, a ledger that held a series of quite a bit redirected funds to the ‘Ashlands Management Fund’.

I wasted no time in my return to Ald’Ruhn to present the book to Garisa Llethri.

“Excellent, Velas! This is exactly what I was looking for! By Vivec, I didn’t imagine that they were pilfering THIS much from the charter. I will require one more favor from you, and if the Hlaalu complain to the Duke or the Empire about our actions, we will show them this book to justify them. Return to me tomorrow and we will discuss how you will shut down the mines.”

“Very well, Muthsera. Tomorrow it is then.”

My bowstring snapped forward as I released the poisoned silver arrow into the neck of a charging Nix-Hound. The surgical accuracy of the strike and the potent power of the poison brought the furious beast to the ground in less then a second.

I reslung my bow, and adjusted my black gloves. My eyes looked to the foggy morning sky as my breath exhaled, fogging as well, judging from the dull haze of the sun, I figured the time to be about eleven o’clock. My mind went over the conversation with Serjo Llethri, three hours prior.

“Now that we have this information, Velas. I’m putting it to you as my final favor to gain my support in House Redoran, to shut down the Caldera Ebony Mines. There may be several approaches that you can take to this; I leave it to you to figure out what the best approach is. Just remember not to dishonor the House in any way.”

Given the extreme nature of House Wars, I was uncertain as to what he meant. I have killed for politics, money, and honor. All of which was fair game in this political system. Nonetheless, I was a member of a new clan now, which was done in the spirit of uniting all the clans.

Entering Caldera for the second time in as many days, I passed through the northern guard walls making a note of the Mages Guild to my left. Perhaps the best approach to figuring out what would shut the mines down lay in the mines themselves, not in town. Besides, I needed to keep a low profile after my ‘talk’ with Cunius.

The basin in which the rich deposits of Ebony lay was fully staffed with housings for the workers and the slaves as well, shacks to be more accurate. I found it to be horrible. Especially because this is what the Empire was supposedly against, yet where there was a profit to be made, suddenly principles were put aside.

Am I strange in that I prefer principles over profit? With the people around here, I would certainly seem so. I certainly needed to eat, as does everyone else, but at the end of the day, when I lay my head down to sleep, will I hate myself, or admire what I have done?

I prefer the latter.

I scanned the area around the slave shacks, and did not see any patrolling guards or workers, and made my way into one of the slaves’ shacks, hopefully to speak with one.

I was greeted with a hiss from a Khajiit woman, with a bracer that glowed with Magicka.

“Dahleena has told you already that she is sick! The more you pester—“

“I’m not a slaver! Now be quiet, and tell me the best way to closing these mines down!” I seethed, putting a black gloved finger to my lips, the rest of my face covered by the red hood of my robes.

She looked at me for a second, and perhaps she realized that I was not with the Caldera Mining Company, despite my red eyes that glowed from inside the shadows that glowed inside my hood.

“No one mines ebony without us slaves. Set us free and the mines will shut down!” she whispered back.

“Where can I find a key?”

Her face shrinked into a grimace of hate. “That Dunmer Slaver Stlennius Vibato has one for sure…..kill him, hunter, and you have the key. Look for him inside the Offices.”

Following her advice, I entered the mining offices, and found a small group staying inside, a few mages, including an Altmer, and a Dunmer whose speech over their lunch left little doubt that he was Stlennius Vibato.

“So’s we go down into the Lizard’s homeland, which is just stinking swamps anyways and the things are screeching at us when we cage a couple of the smaller things, like they were its parents or something, I stab them a few times with my spear….”

The story he told went on for quite some time, and my rage grew silently inside. Assassins are not mindless killers. But we do kill for a cause. I slipped into their pantry and finding a few bottles of Mazte, I slipped out a vial of poison made from luminous russula and violet coprinius, both had alchemical ingredients that would allow one to either breath the water or walk on it.

But when one mixed only the two together…..deadly poison.

“All right that’s enough stories for now. Who’s up for a mazte?’ The slavers voice came out from around the hall.

After hearing several thumps of bodies hitting the floor, and utensils flying across the floor, I exited the shadows of the pantry closet, and took a key ring from the belt of the dunmer whose face was covered with bile from his body trying to reject the poisoned mazte.

The key fit perfectly into Dahleena’s bracer, and it clicked as I turned the key, the bracer fell to the floor with a satisfying ‘thump’ as Dahleena rubbed her wrist and began purring affectionately.

I handed her the key, and she took it slipping it into her waistband. “Thank you! Dahleena thanks you with her lips, her hands, and her heart. I will leave when moons are right. I will free the other slaves too, but Dahleena must ask. How did you get the key?”

“Don’t ask too many questions, but don’t drink the Mazte either.” I said with a slight smile.

“Then Dahleena was right. You are a hunter. Will the hunter seek one more prey?” she asked, I think she meant ‘hunter’ as ‘Assassin’. For all intents and purposes, they are the same thing.

“I think I’ve done enough, Kitty.”

“No! Finish what you have started! Odral Helvi is the Clan father of Caldera, if he lives still, the rest of the slaves will be hunted and killed, maybe put back to work, even worse then death. Find him in the town, then the nightmare of Caldera will really stop!!’ she implored me, her claws sinking into my shoulders, her eyes slitting in fear.

If I gave the slaves only a temporary hope, only to have them killed later, how was I any better then people I had just poisoned? I saw in Dahleena, my Sister. I saw how my own inaction, and lies had led to her death.

Never again.

The cold hilt of my daedric dagger felt natural in my hands as I followed Odral Helvi from Caldera later that day down to the mines from which I had come from. Perhaps he was wondering why no one had come from the mines to make some reports, and was going down to find out why.

I did not care, instead, I saw making a path to the ebony mines door, and I saw an opportunity for poetic justice.

Using the Ring of Khajiit to make myself unseen in the dying light of the afternoon sun, I ran as fast as my legs would carry me to a mine cart filled with ebony ore, and as Odral Helvi walked directly beneath it to the mines entrance, I tilted the cart.

It would take great strength to perform the feat. But my muscles were well toned from a mixture of corprus disease and working long days of helping to build my own stronghold. But ebony is still heavy as hell, and I groaned as I brought the end of the cart up, and the pile fell out, falling onto Helvi with a sickening crack.

I jumped down from the track, and looked at the sprawled corpse, his skull had been split open from a direct hit, and his arm and legs looked like they had additional joints.

Whether it looked like an accident or not, I didn’t care. Helvi was willing to exploit innocents for the sake of the damned ore that had been the arbiter of my final justice.

Knowing that being seen around town was a bad idea, I ran as fast as I could for Ald’Ruhn. Whether or not it was a success would remain to be seen.



“Okay. So you freed the slaves. Fine. But I have also received reports that the entire crew was found dead this morning, apparently poisoned. And also Odral Helvi seems to have died under mysterious circumstances. If it weren’t for the poisonings, it would have been marked off as an accident, but there are questions that must be answered VELAS!” Garisa Llethri yelled at me throwing his reports to his desk.

I simply stood up, leaning over slightly the desk and looked Llethri in the eye as I stated quietly.

“Well. Were I a Redoran Councilor being questioned about the deaths in Caldera, I would simply say that the Twin Lamps set some slaves free, and then the slaves apparently took the opportunity to take revenge on their former masters. But then again, that’s just me.”

Garisa laughed slighty.

“I’m sorry, Velas. I just…”

“—have a great deal of time and emotion vested in Caldera. I know. But it is important not to forget your place in politcs. You must not let emotion weaken your positon, Serjo.”

“Well then, Velas. You have done as I have asked.,.,,and, I suppose that the only thing standing between you and I as equals in rank, is a formality, Councilman.” He said extending his hand.

I shook it with a smile on my face. Finally, the final pieces being set up against Venim were in place. I was now in a position to challenge him.

I returned to Sarethi Manor to report my success to Athyn. Dinner was in full swing, and the mood was a festive one, as Athyn bid me to join his family in dining.

He leaned over to me to whisper, his breath smelling faintly of shein. “So, whats the word from Llethri Manor, my boy?”

“I have his support on the council. The time to challenge Venim is nigh. When is the next Council Meet?”

“Two days time, Sethyas. Are…are you ready?”

“As ready as I will ever be. What is our next move, Serjo?”

“You will join the council in the meet, and be sworn in as a Councilor. Then we will present them with the Nerevar business, and address making you Hortator. The council will support you in spite of the shock, I have told them to expect a surprise, just not what it was. Venim will deny you, then you will the right to challenge him for the title. But….Venim is a stalwart warrior. I would be wrong not to warn you of his mastery of the longblade. He can wield that Dai-Katana of his, like you wield that Bow.”

“Let me worry about him, Serjo. If I die, then at least I died trying.”

“That’s still not something I would want on my conscience.’

“Relax. I have a card up my sleeve.”

The Council Hall was filled with family members and guardsman as the pump and bombast of the traditional weekly meetings of the Councilmen came to order. The difference this time? I joined the rest of the Council in the chambers.

Seated at each end of the table were myself and Bolvyn Venim at the other. The hatred in his eyes burned through me, an outlander whom dared to taint the hallowed halls of the Redoran with its presence. I returned the stare with a calculating look.

“Serjos, we will come to order. The Redoran Council is in order under the watchful eyes of the Tribunal. The Honorable Archmaster Bolvyn Venim presiding.” Stated Miner Arobar in a bass voice.

“I hear there’s a new Councilor….” Said Venim in a quiet tone, his eyes not moving from me.

The quiet stares at one another left no doubt to the fear and awkwardness that the councilors held for the Archmaster. I broke the silence.

“If the council is in agreement, then yes” I said quietly, lighting a Hackle-lo on one of the candles on the table. My black gloves hid the Moon-and-Star, and I wore the Red Silk shirt and black pants of a Redoran Nobleman.

Athyn Sarethi spoke out. “I have chosen too sponsor this outlander, as you all know, and yes, I nominate Sera Velas for the Council. Yay or Nay?”

“Yay.” Said Brara Morvayn with a strong clear voice, and gave me an affectionate look with a knowing smile.

“Yay.” Said Hlaren Ramoran with a face that did not betray any emotion.

“Yay.” Said Garisa Llethri with a look at Venim that spoke of his disgust for the Archmaster.

“I see if fit under the eyes of the Tribunal to hereby elect and accept the nom—“ Miner Arobar started.

“Dammit, Miner! Yay, or, Nay??!!” yelled Venim, having no patience for Arobar’s propensity for giving speeches.

“yay.” Said Miner in a small tone.

All gazes came down too Venim, whose right as Archmaster could at least delay my promotion.

“Well. It would seem that the poor judgment of my Council is ever apparent through their lackwit choices and fading patriotism by allowing you to even step foot in our halls, Outlander.” Said the Archmaster.

“But I am not one to ignore the opportunity of promoting you; after all, once you are a councilman, you have grave responsibilities. Responsibilities that you will uphold or face Dishonor. By becoming a Councilman, you are mine.”

“Yay.” Said Venim quietly with a gaze that was a dull hatred.

“The council is in agreement. House Brother Sethyas Velas will now carry the Title of Councilman Sethyas Velas, Lord of Bal Isra, Clanman of House Redoran.” Said Miner Arobar in his official tone.

“Welcome to hell.” Said Venim with a macabre grin.

“Now let us move on to new business….” Arobar stated.

“Yes, lets. I have something to say.” I started.

“Oh do you, Councilman?” said Venim with a mocking tone. “Everyone, the newest Councilor has something to say. Everyone pay attention, now!”

“In my formal capacity as Councilman of House Redoran, I hereby petition the council for the Title of Redoran Hortator.” I said standing up, looking around the table.

The council was fully expecting the request, while Venim apparently was not. His incredulous look broke when he started guffawing.

“HAHAHAHAHhahaHA! So, the outlander has a sense of humor! You did a little research into our culture, and have decided to impress us with your knowledge of the word. Do you even know what a Hortator is?”

”Yes, I do. A Hortator is a War Leader that has been selected by all the Houses to lead them in times of need.” I said, then leaning over and staring at Venim. “I have already been Chosen as Hortator by House Hlaalu.”

Venim’s shocked look was followed by a burst of anger.

“You…WHAT??! Is THIS the whole reason you joined House Redoran? Is THIS why you have been manipulating the council to turn against me??! By what right do you claim the Title of Redoran Hortator, you…you….”

I took my glove off, and presented the ring to the Council for the first time.

“By the grace and blessing of Azura, by the grace of all the gods and ancestors, I am Nerevar Reborn! Behold the Moon-and-Star! The Sixth House has risen, and Dagoth Ur leads the Grim Armies. Bolvyn Venim, where do you stand, now that I have come?” I said looking into his eyes.

This time the entire council, minus Athyn Sarethi was surprised. The quietness of the room was combined with several stares at Sarethi and me.

Brara Morvayn was the first to break the silence.

“I expect politics and intrigue from my fellow council members, not my Temple. But I see no reason why should refute this Outlanders claim to the Prophecies. I thought they were just bedtime stories that we learned from the Ashlanders. That ring and his story are genuine as far as I am concerned.”

Miner Arobar spoke next.

“You came to tell us that you are the reincarnation of Indoril Nerevar. Azura spoke with you. In a cave. And told you that because you are the reincarnation of Nerevar, that you must become the Hortator of all three Great Houses. And that is why you are standing here now, telling us this story of the Tribunal stealing power from a god's heart with Dwemer tools. And that Dagoth Ur is not dead, but even now plots to conquer Morrowind with the power of this alleged heart. Is that correct?"

“That is correct.”

“Well then. I stand dumbfounded and chastened. The temple says you are fraud and a heretic. But Maar Gan remains overrun by blight beasts and they press us for hard line faith when the situation is at its worst. Then call me a Heretic, you have my vote Nerevar.”

Garisa Llethri followed.

“I don’t really care whether you are Nerevar or not. You have shown me at least that you are a capable saboteur and spy, and I believe that cunning will be as important as courage in defeating Dagoth Ur. We all went Councilwoman Morvayn’s husbands funerary ritual, we are all affected by the Sixth House, hemming and hawing about prophecies will not save us. Lead the Armies well, Hortator.”

Hlaren Ramoran spoke lastly.

“I know your honor, I know your compassion. I may yet have an heir thanks to you, and I trust Athyn Sarethi’s judgment absolutely. If he says you’re the Nerevarine, you’re the Neravarine. You have my vote for Hortator.”

All eyes now fell on Venim, whose vote would make or break the Title of hortator.
“You all…..I cannot believe what I am hearing. This fraud, this Outlander..this…..Assassin. Yes, I know what you are Velas. You think me blind? You think I will fall to your demands because you turn my council against me, and flash some trinket in front of us? No, you shall never lead the Armies of Redoran! Not while I draw breath!”

“You deny that I am Nerevar?”

“YES!” he screamed.

“Do you know the lore of the Moon-and-Star?”

“Yes, yes, you’re not impressing anyone, ‘should anyone but Nerevar wear the ring, they shall be instantly killed’ yet you stand there alive and well, so the ring is not real.” Venim grated out.

I slipped the ring off and threw it at Venim, he caught it with gasp of fear.

I smiled at him. “Relax, Archmaster. Tis only if you wear it that you shall die. Call my bluff, here and now, in front of the Council. You question my Honor, now defend yours!”

Venim thought it over a moment. Was he willing to risk his life if I were Nerevar? No matter what he chose, he would be weakened. Would he take death before dishonor?

“No. For all I know, Assassin, you slipped a poison onto the band. Let another test your claim. Tell the Guards to bring in Saryon Hlaalu!”

There was a muttering around the table, and I looked at Athyn with a confused look, he bade me come closer and he whispered into my ear.

“Saryon is a murderer who is to be put to death tomorrow; there is nothing that can be done to save him. I see where this is going, just go with it.” He advised me.

A few minutes later, a Dunmer man in prisoner’s clothes and shackles was escorted in with two Redoran Guards.

Venim approached the prisoner, who looked at him with hateful eyes.

“Saryon Hlaalu, you have been tried and sentenced to death, but, if you slip this ring onto your finger, I shall personally rescind your verdict, and you shall be set free. What say you?” said Venim, apparently willing to take a cowards way out.

“What’s the catch?” the prisoner said, holding the ring, suspicion replacing his hate.

“The catch is, if you put that ring on, you shall perish in an instant, Hlaalu. Venim is testing my challenge to him, on you.” I said, warning him.
“A ring that will kill me, over a hanging tomorrow? Gee, I’m liking these options more and more.” He said sarcastically.

Venim chided him. “He is an outlander who claims to be the Nerevarine, and he claims that this is the Moon-and-Star. You have nothing to fear, and in two seconds after you wear the ring, you will be free. Do not listen to the Madman.”

Saryon looked up at me, disbelief in his eyes. “Is this some kind of a sick joke?”

“There is no joke, Saryon. I am Nerevar, and Venim denies me.”

Saryon thought it over a moment.

”If you really are Nerevar, then let my death have some meaning, let me prove for you that this is real, I know the stories. If your not, then I am a free man, either way know that I prefer this over a public hanging where all eyes shall see my dishonor.”

I nodded to him, and he extended his index finger, and slowly brought the ring to it’s tip.

The eyes of the Council looked closely, and Venims face twisted into concentration, even breaking a sweat as Saryon slipped it on.

In a split second a flash of blue-white light engulfed Saryon Hlaalu, he fell to the floor in an instant, a small smile of satisfaction across his dead lips.

I removed the ring from his finger, and slipped it back onto mine, and I gazed into the trembling eyes of Archmaster Bolvyn Venim.

“My greatest strength in all this is that I have the truth on my side. You have seen with your own eyes, Venim. Now no man may deny. I am Nerevar Reborn, returned with his ring to unite the halls against the true threat of Dagoth Ur. What say you?”

Venim walked a few steps back. “Its not true!”

“What say you?” I said following him.

“Its not real!” he said returning to his seat.

“WHAT SAY YOU?” I spoke.

“Outlander Scum! You, you have dishonored me! Before my own council! You gave me the challenge, and like a Hlaalu I ran! A Hlaalu clansman showed more courage then I!”

“Shall I be the Hortator?” I asked forcefully.

Venim looked up at me with more hate in his eyes then ever.
“No! A thousand times no! You will not lead Redoran!”

“Then, in my formal capacity as Councilman of House Redoran, I challenge you to a duel for the title of Redoran Hortator! Name your stakes, Venim!” I yelled to him from across the stunned silence of the council table.

“Very well. You will dishonor me and my house no longer! I accept your challenge! We shall meet in the Arena in Vivec in two weeks time! You shall adhere to the Redoran Rules of required and honored skills! Heavy or Medium Armor! Spear or Long Blade! Anything that deviates from the challenge and you will be cast out the House, and called our enemy. The duel shall be to the DEATH! If I lose, you shall have your precious Hortator Title! If you lose, your name shall be erased from history, save that as an outlander that disgraced this house with petty tricks and manipulations!!!”

With that, Venim stormed out of the Council room, and the gazes of the Councilors fell to me.

“Forgive me. I did what had to be done. In two weeks time, either the Archmaster will lead the House into ruin, or I shall lead its armies to victory…..”

But that wasn’t why they were looking at me. The faint glow of the ring shone in the faces of those who knew they had witnessed a miracle of sorts, and doubts they may have once had had died with Saryon Hlaalu, whose body had taken from the hall by the guards during the challenge.

Sarethi looked up to me and smiled. “I now know that I made the right decision. This council has long cowered under Venims boots, but you have given us a new hope. Hail, Nerevar!”

“HAIL!” The council cheered.

Two hours later, the Sarethi Family and I were drinking to celebrate, with guards posted outside the door to keep the well-wishers and detractors away. As the word of the duel between the Archmaster and the newest Councilman was the biggest event in Ald-Ruhn since the Corprus Monsters attacked Morvayn Manor.

“I have been thinking, and I sincerely hope you’re challenging Venim too wear the moon and star, was not the card up your sleeve, Nerevar….um, Sethyas.” Slurred out Athyn over his Shein.

“It wasn’t. Though the thought had crossed my mind.”

“Then how do you hope to defeat Venim? This is an honorable duel in public view between Redoran Nobles, not as Assassination in the Morag Tong, Venim made the rules quite clear, only Medium or heavy Armor with spear or long blade, if you use poison or magic, or anything else, you’ll be disqualified! Everything you’ve worked so hard to achieve will have been for naught!”

I smiled over my sips of Cyrodiilic Brandy.

“If I told you, that would spoil the surprise.”

News travels fast in Morrowind, and the event of the Outlander lately claiming to be the Nerevarine facing the Honorable Archmaster of the House of Redoran for the title of the Hortator of House Redoran was a once in an age event.

It wasn’t my nature to be in center of such a spectacle, as an Assassin I preferred the quiet solitude of my newest Stronghold at Bal Isra over the throngs of the multitudes that now gathered into the Arena in Vivec City.

This marked two changes; one that I would now be known to the people with my claims to the Nerevarine Prophecies. Second, that this would be the first time I faced an opponent as full blown warrior, as opposed to a stealthy assassin.

Inside my quarters in the Vivec Arena, I sat with my Daedric Katana unsheathed across my lap, my head bowed in meditation and prayer, to Mephala and Azura. I am not an overly religious type, but the situation had me quickly asking for help outside my sphere of control.

Athyn Sarethi and Varvur Sarethi had joined me in the journey down here, along with a Dunmer they didn’t recognize. He was old and wizened, with a scar going down his right eye, wearing glass armor and a massive Daedric Claymore strapped to his back. He stood off maintaining an aloof distance.

“Well, two weeks have come and gone, and now you stand ready to face Venim, I hope.” Athyn said with concern dripping in his voice.

“I hope so too good friend. Perhaps this is all the subtle machinations of destiny, or my own hallucinations leading me to my death, I prefer the former.” I said equipping my Orcish Armor on. I had acquired it during my many stints in adventuring, this set came from the guard outside a Daedric Shrine.

“Go with my blessing, my boy. I truly hope that you are the victor here, for all our sakes.” Athyn said looking down to the ground.

I nodded solemnly, and looked off to my mysterious member of my entourage, whom gave me a slight smile and a nod. "You're as ready as you'll ever be. Just remember to keep him slightly to your left."

Athyn gave a strange look to the Mer, like maybe he recognized him from somewhere.

“That is Ulms Drathen. Ulms, this is Athyn Sarethi,” I said, introducing the two mer.

A knock on the door was unexpected, but opening it and I saw an old friend, the smiling face of Orvas Dren.

"Hello, Outlander."

"What is it Dren? I'm kind of busy at the moment."

"Oh yes, I am well aware. I've even placed a hefty sum on the Archmaster winning. I figure it should even us out after your little escapade with Ranes and Navil. Nice touch in coming to talk to me after you killed off my best men. Oh yes, even I can respect treachery and deceit, I have an old hand in it myself."

"Then you won't be horribly disappointed when you lose that hefty sum."

"We'll see, I do hope you put on a good show before you die though. Nice armor by the way." he said looking over my armor that matched the one he usually wore.

I closed the door, only to have another knock. I rolled my eyes as I opened it again.
"I already told you--Oh, hello Rayne."

"Who the hell was that guy?" She said giving a weird look to the exiting form of Orvas Dren.

"An ally of sorts. What can I do for you, Sister?"

"Well, the word is all over Vivec and most of Vvardenfell. I wouldn’t miss this for the world. Outlander heretic taking on the Archmaster of the House Redoran! It's so exciting!" Rayne Alas said with enthusiasm.

"My life is on the line here, Rayne! It’s hardly 'exciting'!"

"An Assassin must never fear death. Remember?"

"Right. I just meant not to view the 'sport' as a 'sport'. Life is far more serious then a spectator sport."

"Well the Grandmaster himself will be watching you as well as most of the guild. I think I saw some Telvanni mages in the stands too.."

I blinked. "Is EVERYONE turning out for this event?"

"Calm down, Nerevar. What did you think would happen? You show up claiming to be the Nerevarine, and think that everyone will just go about their day? HA! Good Luck Exalted Master!" She said with a wink and pointed at me as she left.

Varvur and Athyn looked at me with bemused looks.

"Well-wishers." I said pointing to the door, sighing.

The trumpeting and fanfare rose which could be heard even from inside my quarters, there was an announcement, followed by a loud cry of cheers.

"Showtime." I said adjusting the bracers, and sheathing my sword.

"AND NOW EXITING FROM THE EAST ENTRANCE: COUNCILOR OF HOUSE REDORAN AND THE CHALLENGER FOR THE TITLE OF HORTATOR! SETHYAS VELAS!" Came the booming voice of the announcer.

My mind flashed back to the first time I had entered Seyda Neen, as a Prisoner being released by the emperor. An unknown, a bandit. With nothing more then the clothes I wore on my back. And now I exited the doors into the gravel pit of the Arena dressed in Orcish Armor, a Redoran Noble, and claimant to the Nerevarine Prophecies.

However the boos of the crowd far outweighed the minimal cheers I received. Probably from the few friends I had made since my arrival.

From across the gravel pit of the Arena, stood the Archmaster in his full fury, impressively dressed in his full set of Ebony armor, he played to the crowd, with his hands raised to the sky, cheers erupted in all sides.

"Do you hear that, Velas? That is the sound of love. They cheer for your blood! They praise my blade and curse your breath! Are you ready to meet your ancestors?"

"Your stubbornness knows no bounds, Venim. Even when faced with the truth, you still mock the will of the gods. Is not a Redorans first duty to the Aedra and Daedra?"

"Gods be damned! They did not strike you down when you entered my House! So that leaves it up to me too cleanse the earth of you!"

"To the death then." I said, entering a zen state of mind. Nothing existed except for Venim. I unsheathed my Daedric Katana, which did not quite have the reach of a Dai-Katana, but it did allow for one handed wielding, and had the advantage of speed over Venim’s black blade.

Venim slowly turned around, his face growing in rage. And he let forth a yell as he unsheathed his Dai-Katana from his back and rushed forward to me with an open slash.
The wide arc seemed to cleave through the air itself, and rather then block the path of the blade coming to my thighs, I jumped retracting my legs underneath me. The inertia of the swing forced Venim to sidestep, and with a growl he brought the blade back for an overhand swoop.

I did not move until he finally brought the blow down a few inches from my left pauldron, side stepping quickly, the tip of the Dai-katana imbedded itself into the ground, stunning Venim. I quickly jumped with my left foot on the back flat of the blade, and brought my right knee up into the face of Venim. He released his grip on the blade, and glanced from the strike. Blood coming from his nose.

He wiped the blood clean, as the crowd booed my move. The hate of this foreign devil returning to his eyes. I took a guard position with my blade in an over hand position, and two fingers outstretched.

"Heh. Fighting dirty are we? Figures for an outlander." He said bringing the angled blade sticking from the ground back out again. Dirt stained its tip. "No HONOR!!" He yelled bringing the blade for a forward thrust. Our blades met with a loud clang. Bringing our faces mere feet from one another.

"Are you ready? Are you ready to die, Velas?" he taunted me once more.

We pushed against one another, only to run back to one another. Swords clanging loudly together. The noise of the crowd surged as we struggled for an advantage. Yet to me, they only sounded like a dim buzz. I was that focussed on what had to be done.

Soon enough, Venim broke away from our locked blades to form another method of attack. I warily stood my ground, heeding Ulms advice of keeping Venim to my left. We began to circle each other, each of us searching for the opportune time to strike. Looking into Venim’s eyes, I still saw the hatred he had for me, but I mostly saw a look of calculated concentration. He was taking this just as seriously as I was.

Suddenly, Venim charged once more, shouting a battle cry as he swung horizontally at me. I was caught unexpected by the move, yet I was able to barely roll under the attack, lunging at thrust at Venim as soon as I regained my feet.

Venim nimbly parried the blow and backed away once more. Frustration beginning to creep into his expression. I decided that it was my turn to press the attack. I swung a flurry of short slashes and chops, which forced Venim to block the strikes rather than parry them. Eventually, one of my strikes grazed his pauldron, causing him to spin from the force of the hit. Pain erupted from my side as Venim slammed the pommel of his sword into me.

I staggered backwards, immediately turning to face Venim as he charged me once more. He swung a criss-crossing pattern that I was able to avoid and I backed away once more.

Venim’s face was now flush and wet with sweat. He was tiring. I took advantage of this by attacking with a barrage of short strikes once more. Venim desperately fended off the blows until one landed square on his chest, sending the Archmaster sprawling to the Arena floor.

With the Archmaster on the floor, I decided to finish this with an overhead chop, yelling in fury as I brought the blade down. At the last instant though, Venim rolled away and my blade slammed into the earth. Suddenly my feet were taken away from me by Venim’s blade sweeping my feet. Fortunately he caught me with the blunted edge of his blade or else I would’ve lost my feet.

I crashed to the floor and quickly rose to my feet. Venim was looking across from me, an odd look across his face. All the while, the crowd was in an uproar.

“I should’ve killed you by now! I’m the best sword master I know of and yet you’ve been able to match me. It’s impossible!” he shouted at me.

Even though I was fighting for my life, I still managed to smirk. “Sorry to disappoint you, but there is a better sword master than you. I have trained with him. His name is Ulms Drathen, Master Trainer for the discipline of the Long Blade. I had ran into him while doing some errands for the House and thought it would be a good idea to make use of his expertise. For the last two weeks, I have been exclusively training with him for this.”

Venim’s eyes burned with an intensity I had yet to see in him. “You will not DEFEAT ME!” he screamed and kicked the Arena sand into my face blinding me.

Panic rose within me as I rubbed at the sand with my free hand, my eyes watering. I then heard the distinctive sound of something moving fast through the air. Having no sense of the direction of the attack, I decided to fall backwards. The air from the swinging blade caressed my face as I slammed to the ground.

Still blinking through the graininess in my eyes, I heard a scream of fury come from Venim. Quickly rising to my feet, through the little vision I had, I saw Venim preparing an over head chop. I brought my blade horizontally above my head. His blade crashed against mine, the force of the impact driving me to one knee.

Venim shook in effort of bringing the blade down, yet I still held it across my sword. I regained my feet and broke the lock, immediately trying a horizontal slash, which Venim blocked himself and we locked blades once more.

A blow to my face staggered me backwards as Venim punched me to break the lock.

Rubbing my jaw, I looked sternly at my opponent. “Who is the dishonorable one now, Venim?”

Venim didn’t answer my question. Instead, he charged once more, swinging his sword heavily. I was again caught surprised by the speed he was able to swing the heavy blade. I did my best to block or parry what he sent at me, but a few slipped through and landed grazing blows to my arms and sides. The Orcish Armor held up though, even though the blows hurt like hell.

I was starting to see a pattern to Venim’s attack. Since he was tiring, his sweeping horizontal slash was beginning to slow in recovery. It left his right side completely exposed. It was the opening that I wanted.

I baited him with a thrust to my right. He did what I expected him to do. He parried the strike by knocking my blade away. Using the momentum of the parry, I spun with the blade and with all my might slashed across Venim’s exposed chest.

Sparks from force of the impact sprouted from Venim’s chest, as fragments of his ebony cuirass flew across the Arena. The Archmaster slowly rose from the ground, clutching at his chest. Slowly he took his hand away to reveal an undamaged chest, but exposed. The ebony armor surrounding it was cracked and falling apart.

Venim levelled his sword back into a fighting position. “You think something like that is going to stop me?” he asked quietly, his tone deadly serious.

It was time to end this. Even though the Corprus had enhanced my abilities, even I was beginning to feel the effects of the excruciating battle we were undertaking. It wouldn’t be long for me to start making vital mistakes.

Gripping my sword securely in my hand, I pressed the attack on Venim, hoping to overwhelm him. Unfortunately, it seemed that the Archmaster had caught his second wind and was able to turn my attack against me. He skilfully countered my quick strikes and landed a heavy blow of my cuirass, backing me away. Looking down at my cuirass showed a razor line slice in the cuirass. The crowd roared their approval.

Venim grinned darkly as he strode towards me, sword raised to attack. I decided to revert back to avoid his attacks and attempt to tire him out once more. When he went for my head, I ducked. When he went for the midsection, I rolled away. The frustration was starting to creep back into his face.

It was then that Venim tried an attack I hadn’t seen yet. His sword arched from the ground upwards, in an uppercut motion. I blocked the blow, but the force of the attack sent me off my feet and I landed heavily onto the ground, my sword falling free from my hand.

Panic rose up within me as I fought for breath and went to grab my sword. My hand was nearly there when a heavy, ebony boot landed on my wrist, trapping it. I looked up and saw Venim standing over me, sword poised to drive down into me.

“This is the way it ends, Outlander. The way it should end!” he said and raised his sword.

Using a surge of adrenaline, I managed to throw my trapped wrist up, breaking Venim’s balance. In a mad dash, I scrambled for my katana, grabbed and it rose to my feet. Spinning around, a snarling Venim was rising to his feet. It was then that I thrust my sword.

The crowd went silent as I saw Bolvyn Venim’s eyes bulge. I withdrew my sword and backed away. With that final slash, I brought Venim to his knees.

Venim kneeled there for what seemed like an eternity. "Not bad, outlander...." he said blood spurting from his lips.

"Even now, you still deny me. I have faced you with the honor you desired, and I have shown it. Bolvyn Venim, I promise that I will lead our house well against Dagoth Ur. Go now with the ancestors, I pray your forgiveness."

Venim’s eyes fell upon my ring, and in his dying moment and last breath, he whispered.
"Nerevar."

I had forgotten where I was, and the silence of the crowd broke into an equal measure of cheers and booing. I put my hand to the sky to block the midday sun, and my other hand held my katana at a lowered stance.

I had won.

I looked out to the audience and saw many things. I saw Orvas Dren clutching the railing angrily. I saw Eno Hlaalu nodding his head in admiration, Rayne jumping up and down happily beside him. I saw Athyn Sarethi, his eyes glistening with emotion.

There was a murmur of confusion as my name was called by a familiar voice.

"Sethyas!"

I looked to the crowd, and there was a Dunmer woman whom jumped down from the stands into the pit and ran toward me, an excited look on her face. Ilmeni Dren ran towards me an excited look on her face. "Sethyas!"

She fell into my arms, kissing me deeply. Finally after an eternity of bliss in her arms once more, we spoke.

"You did it! You defeated Archmaster Venim! Everyone thought you would die here today, I thought you would die here today. I was scared...I almost didn't come."

Perhaps it was the adrenaline and the excitement of the fight.

"You're damn right I did! Now I think it’s time I made up for lost time, wouldn’t you say?" I said grabbing her around the waist. She squealed in delight.

It didn't matter to me if it was uncharacteristic of me, I had just come victorious from putting my life on the line against Venim, and now the woman I loved had just literally dropped back into my arms.

I was going to celebrate with the most life-affirming act I knew of.

The trip back to Bal Isra required several bribes for the unusually prudent Dunmer Caravaner not to kick Ilmeni and me off the Silt Strider. I wanted to tell her everything that had transpired since I last left her. But words would only ruin this day.

Hetman Guls was pleasantly surprised to see me, and as he started to ask if there was anything the “lord” of Bal Isra required I replied with a short “Brandy and privacy!” To which he gave me a scoff for my rudeness and followed by a smirk when he saw Ilmeni wrapped in my arms.

Several hours later, as Ilmeni began to drift off to sleep, she murmured a question as she traced her finger across my chest. “I still haven’t asked why you spared Orvas Dren?”

“The same reason your father took the writ out on the Ienith brothers, and not directly on your uncle.” I said groggily.

“Oh..” she said falling asleep, and I soon joined her.

The next morning, I left her asleep, with a note that I had business in Ald’Ruhn with the Council and would return soon. For the formalities of Council business, I wore my red silk shirt, with scuttle grease in my hair. Though the pretense was well over and done with amongst my oath-kin.

The bleary eyes of the council looked over at my entering form, the signs of celebration quite evident in the restorative potions they all sipped on.

“Sethyas! Ow…not so loud…” said Athyn, greeting me as I took my seat. The seat that the Archmaster sat in was noticeably empty.

“The official part of naming you Hortator has come. The council is happy too present you with the Ring of the Hortator, an ancient symbol of your title, and all will know that you have been chosen as War Leader of the House of Redoran!”

Athyn handed me an enchanted ring, that I took a moment to look over, but it was followed by a slight coughing noise. I looked up at him, and he had a look of concern on his face.

“There may be a slight problem however.” He stated grimly.

“The duel put me in the center of everyone’s attention?”

“Quite so. The Temple has taken notice. A great deal of it. Have you read the Public Notices?” he inquired, the other Councilors looking at Athyn with worried expressions.

“No. But I can imagine what it says.” I quipped, as Athyn handed me a parchment that looked like it had been ripped down from a wall. My eyes looked intensively over it, as I read aloud:
WELL-BELOVED PEOPLE OF MORROWIND! TAKE HEED! TAKE WARNING!

The outlaw named Sethyas Velas, stated trade of Assassin, lately called 'Incarnate' and 'Nerevarine,' now is shown to the investigating Ordinators and Magistrates of this district to be an agent in the pay of the Imperial Intelligence Service. This outlaw's claims are false. The prophecies this outlaw cites are discredited. The dishonest character and base purposes of the outlaw in perpetrating this hoax are now made clear to all observers. Sethyas Velas is sought for various crimes by Ordinators and town guards. Report all encounters with this outlaw to the proper authorities. If you see this outlaw in public, give the alarm.

Published by the authority of the Temple, the Order of the Watch, Magistrates of Vvardenfell District, under the signature and authority of Grandmaster Berel Sala, Captain of the Watch. Hear and Heed!

“Huh.” I said, not knowing what to say. It would seem the jig was up with the Blades.

“Is this true, Velas? Are you an Imperial Agent?” asked Garisa Llethri, his face forcing back his anger.

“Besides the fact that this is all propaganda, designed to keep the Temples position clear on my stance…..Yes. I am a member of the Blades. I was sent here under the pretense that I fulfilled certain parts of the Nerevarine Prophecies. It would seem that the Emperor was far more accurate then even he could have guessed. I never intended to report information in House Redoran to the Empire however, the whole reason I joined the House, was to fulfill the prophecies, not to spy.”

“Sethyas’ loyalties are NOT in question here, Garisa!” said Athyn slamming his fist down on the table.

”Would a spy do all that Sethyas has done? Would a spy put his very life on the line to save our house? COULD a mere spy have done everything that Sethyas has done for House Redoran? Could a spy have faced down the Archmaster, and return to this council Victorious? NO! Sethyas is Redoran, through and through, we all know him to be an Assassin now, so I see no point in keeping this secret anymore, though no Councilor may repeat these words. Sethyas is Morag Tong.”

There was a long pause as the Councilors thought through Athyns words.

“Who are you?” was the only question that came to me, from Mistress Brara Morvayn.

I looked at her with a tired stare. “I am not entirely certain myself, Mistress. But I am not an Imperial Spy. Perhaps I am Nerevar. You have seen with your own eyes that none but me may wear the Moon-and-Star. The man who sits before you now, is Sethyas Velas. Outlander Assassin, Exalted Master of the Morag Tong, Councilman of House Redoran. And perhaps in a former life, the largely romanticized General, Indoril Nerevar. I am the nerevarine, returned to lead the Dunmer against my old friend, and now enemy, Dagoth Ur.”

Llethri smiled at my words. “I am sorry, Velas. I above all others should know where your loyalties lie. I trust you, and I will trust you with the power of Redorans armies.”

The council then seemed to return to normal as Athyn smacked the side of his head. “Forgive me, my boy. I had forgotten, but an important package had arrived for you, soon after the duel with Venim, it came from a contact from high in the Temple Hierarchy. I do not know what it contains, but I believe it has something to do with Temples position on your claims.” He said, sliding over a sealed parchment, to which I opened and read out loud once more.

To the Outlander lately proclaiming his identity as the Nerevarine, to be delivered with haste --


The assertions made being in direct contradiction of the doctrine of the Tribunal, namely, that you are the Nerevarine, the reincarnation of the Sainted Lord Nerevar, are, in addition to being against Temple teaching, incredible and implausible in the extreme.

The revelations made by the Inquisition, namely, that you yourself are in fact an agent of the Imperial Intelligence Service, otherwise known as the Order of Blades, lately made with substantial evidence by the Lord High Archordinator, Berel Sala, further calls into question the validity of and motivations behind your claims.

However, as incredible as your claims are, as much as they are in direct contradiction of the teachings of the Temple, and tainted as they are by the inferences to be made upon your close association with the covert policies and interests of the Emperor, the interests of the Temple and its leadership, and in particular, the interests of His Immortal Lordship, Vivec, are best served by a close and personal examinations of the claims being made, and close and personal examinations of the motivations and character of the claimant.

The Temple, through its examinations of its records, in particular, the records of the Heirographa and Apographa, is intimately familiar with the many and varied claims of signs and feats that would mark the Nerevarine according to prophecy.

Therefore, in the event of the fulfillment of certain of those most remarkable and scarcely credible claims -- namely, that the claimant should, at one time, be the acknowledged holder of several ancient titles of power and authority of the Dunmer people, to whit, Hortator of the Great Houses and Nerevarine of the Ashlander tribes -- the Temple proposes that the claimant of the identity of the Nerevarine shall present himself for inspection before his Reverend Honor, Archcanon Lord Tholer Saryoni, High Archcanon and Chancellor of Vivec, Archcanon of the Canonry of Vvardenfell, Arch-Priest of the High Fane, for a review and consideration of his claims and identity. However, until such time as the claimant actually has been named Hortator separately and jointly by the three Great Houses of Vvardenfell, and at the same time has been named Nerevarine separately and jointly by the four tribes of the Ashlanders, there is no purpose in reviewing or discussing these claims.

Because of the Temple's official position on the prophecies of the Nerevarine, and in the interests of preserving the security of the claimant from those parties who might wish to do him harm, it is convenient that the claimant of the title Nerevarine shall present himself in secret to Archcanon Saryoni in the archcanon's private quarters in the High Fane of Vivec.

To signify agreement with these terms and conditions for a meeting with the archcanon, the Nerevarine claimant may present himself to the healer of the High Fane of Vivec, Danso Indules, and the necessary arrangements will be made. Once again, no purpose is served by a meeting until the claimant is named Hortator of the three Great Houses and is named Nerevarine of the four Ashlander tribes.


written at the request of and in the name of his Reverend Honor Tholer Saryoni, Archcanon and Chancellor of Vivec,

Dileno Lloran, priest of Vivec, assistant to the Archcanon

“HA! So the Temple will deny you, until they have no choice but to acknowledge you because the Houses know that they are failing in their war with Dagoth Ur!” Athyn laughed aloud.

His expression was met with my silent fuming.

“Sethyas?” he said quietly.

“Sethyas,….try to understand….”

“UNDERSTAND? UNDERSTAND WHAT??!! I put my LIFE and more importantly, my HONOR on the line, day after day, all so I can save this blighted wasteland from a Mad God that not even your ‘almighty’ Lord Vivec can defeat? And all of you…” I said pointing over the councilors. “..Cower behind your Temple, hide behind your failing traditions, and when the truth is brought before you, when you see with your own eyes that your ‘gods’ betrayed the Chimer to set themselves up as the Lords of the Land, you shield your eyes with disbelief and curse what may turn out to be your only savior!!” I screamed.

I crumbled up the paper, and threw it into the middle of the large table.

“What the hell am I trying to save?” I said quietly with a disgusted tone in my voice.

The councilors remained quiet, they knew my words to be true, and could not parry my words. The harshest lesson, is learning to see the truth. My harshest lesson was that maybe Morrowind wasn’t worth saving, and I got up from my seat and left the council chambers, lighting a hackle-lo.

“Sethyas!” Athyn barked at me from across the rope bridges. “SETHYAS!” he continued, his old form showing magnificent speed in keeping up with me.

His hand grabbed my shoulder, and I stopped.

“Athyn. You know I love and respect you, Sera. But if you don’t take your hand off me right now, I will be forced to forget all you have done for me.”

“Stop acting like a child!” he exclaimed, his words echoing in with the same words that Caius had told me so many months ago.

I turned and looked at the wizened face, sympathy and anger mixed in together in his eyes, there was a slight glisten of tears reflecting light from the torches that lit the crabshell.

“What were you expecting, my boy? You knew the Temples position on the nerevarine, and you have just defeated a celebrated figure and staunch supporter of them. OF COURSE THEY”RE GOING TO REACT LIKE THIS!” he laughed out.

I laughed internally as well. He was right. I let my ego get the better of me. I had exhibited a weakness that I had often exploited.

“You are of course, as usual, completely correct, Serjo.” I said, managing a slight smile.

“The Nerevarine must be strong. Even when it seems that the world is against you, you alone hold your honor. And you persevere in the face of impossible odds. I see this in you. Had I not, that very day when you came to me with this ridiculous story, I would have denied you, and buried you in the Sheogorath Shrine”

The words seemed hauntingly familiar.

“Do you know a Breton by the name of Trey of High Rock?” I asked him, mystified.

“Trey? Yes..yes. An outlander I sponsored many years ago. I can’t imagine he still alive though, he was much like you in many ways, compassionate, yet headstrong. But above all he was one of the most honorable men it has ever been my pleasure to know. Why?”

“I met him not too long ago. He told me words much like you have now.”

“You were visited by an aspect of Trey? Then….you are truly blessed….or cursed…perhaps both. Then forces higher then we can perceive have taken notice of you Sethyas.”

“What of the council though?”

“Bah! I’ve been wanting to tell them that for years! I am a temple-going gods-fearing mer, but even I know when it is time to re-examine what we have been taught. You can teach this old nix-hound some new tricks. Though…Venims defeat, leaves us without an Archmaster…” Athyn trailed off.

“Then you shall be our new Archmaster, you know much more of the ways of the world then any other of the Councilors, you have guided me step by step along this dangerous route in politics.”

“No, Sethyas. I will not accept the position. I am far too old, and I wish to spend what little time I have left with the ones I love, the house needs someone else, someone younger…”

I furled my brows at his implication, wondering who he meant. Then it dawned on me.

“Athyn, you don’t mean….”

He smiled at me. “Yes, you shall be the one to lead the house into its new future. The council has already discussed it, after this war is over….should you hopefully live.”

I shook my head. “Should I hopefully live Athyn, I will not accept. I am selfish enough to wish for peace in times of peace. I am a Redoran by Oath, but my heart will always lead me down my own path.”

Athyn frowned. “I am disappointed to hear you say that, Sethyas. But I understand that you have lost much too that cursed ring. For the time being, as our Hortator, you will act as an interim Archmaster, though I fear it may lead to infighting and power plays.”

I thought of the strength that a particular councilor had shown in the face of tragedy.

“Any thoughts to Mistress Morvayn?”

“Brara? Hmm. Now that you mention it,… I believe that she would be an Ideal candidate second to you, of course. Yes. She would make a wonderful Archmaster. Perhaps it takes a woman to clean House after all…. I will discuss the matter with her in private, with our mutual support, I believe that she will accept, and that the other councilors would accept as well. I should have realized that you preferred to work behind the scenes, Assassin Noble.” Athyn smirked.

“I hope that I am noble in character, but I shall never be a noble in name or status. Assassin will do Athyn.” I said, shaking his hand.

“Where are you going now?” he asked as I walked off to the entrance.

“I have a people to unite, and a God to kill. Most importantly, I have a Temple to piss off.”

I decided to drop into the Ald Skar Inn for a late breakfast, I needed time to refrewsh my mind, and take a short break from pursuing the Nerevarine Prohpecies. The last few months had been a non-stop tirade in a political overthrow. Now everything I had done for Redoran had caught up with me.

As I quietly ate my meal in a corner to myself, an attractive Dunmer maiden in brown robes cautiously approached my table, then boldly sitting herself down, and giving me a quiet smile. I returned her smile, and gave her an inquisitive look.

“Fathusa Girethi, Sera. I haven’t seen you around before. What’s a cute outlander like you doing in a place like this?” she said flirtatiously.

“At this moment, I am eating my meal, across the table from a pretty woman. Perhaps, the ultimate complement to my meal.” I flirted back.

She giggled as she took the compliment, and our conversation continued. Ending in an unfortunate realization that I was already taken. As she got up to leave, with red cheeks displaying her embarrassment, I stopped her.

“No,no,no. Don’t run off just yet. Perhaps we can assist each other. You see, I am….well, I am the ‘lord’ of the new settlement at Bal Isra. There is a great deal of available men if you’re having trouble finding one here in Ald’Ruhn…”

Her eyes shifted around for a few seconds as she thought about what I was saying. “You want me to go to Bal Isra, and talk to the men, and see if I may find a husband?”

“As bad as that may sound….well, yes. I have come to know the settlers a bit, and they are good men, Redoran Warriors whom are honorable in war, and yet gentle in manner. The only thing Bal Isra lacks is a few good women.”

“Okay! I’ll do it! Just let me take care of a few things here in Ald’Ruhn, and I’ll be on my way….hmm. Let me tell my girlfriend Aryni Orethi! She’d kill for the chance!”

“The more, the merrier.” I said taking a sip of Trama Root tea.

Later in the day, I arrived at the settlement, and told Hetman Guls of my encounter with the Ald’Ruhn Dunmer Maiden.

“You convinced some women to come here? I will inform the men to bathe immediately!” he said running off jumping as he pulled off his chitin boots, and letting out a loud whistle, alerting the settlers that something important was going down.

Exiting from the entrance of Velas Manor, I saw Ilmeni walking slowly toward me. Once more that woman took my breath away; she wore an expensive blue dress and had her hair down, in an elegant style.

Her coy smile teased my senses as I grabbed her again, and kissed her. She became limp in my hands, nothing else mattered but here and now.

“How is my Lord of Bal Isra?” she whispered into my ear.

“Please don’t call me that! It just happens to be where I live.” I retorted.

”Hey, it’s a far throw from a courier for the east empire company living in an apartment in Vivec, to becoming a Redoran Noble with his own land, title and stronghold.”

“True. But you know I hate nobles.”

“mmmm, so do I, that’s why I was living in that apartment.”

“I hate slavery, too.”

“Now you’re just trying to get under my dress.”

“Is it working?”

Leading me to our chambers, she answered my question.

A few hours later, we were sipping vintage brandy, going over my plans, and accomplishments.

“So you’ve managed to get two houses behind you, and this is where you’ve been the last few months, and the whole reason you challenged Venim was to become Hortator of House Redoran? Sethyas, membership in a House is forever!”

“I know. It was a logical choice though, the Redoran are the most honorable of the houses. The last thing I need is a back-stabbing Hlaalu --no offense – robbing me of my life in the middle of the night, or a Telvanni battlemage intent on testing his prowess on the Nerevarine, plus when you think about it, what House could you ever have seen me joining?”

“That’s true. You are the nicest Assassin I know.”

“How many assassins do you know?”

”Being an offspring of Hlaalu Noble, quite a few.”

“Point taken.”

“Whats next, Nerevar?” she teased.

“House Telvanni.” I said grimly.
“Sweet Almalexia, good luck with that one!”

“A House full of 2000 year old wizards who hate each other as much as everybody else? With mushroom strongholds full of Battlemage retainers intent on overthrowing there ‘lords’ to set themselves up as the next most powerful mage, what could be easier?
I mused sarcastically.

“You don’t like mages much, do you?”

“I am a member of the mages guild; I have no problems with Mages, except that they are perhaps a bit too self-involved for their own good. BATTLEmages on the other hand….an Assassin’s worst nightmare…you’re fighting two specializations at once. But I digress. Soon, I will have to leave for Sadrith Mora, fortunately, the Telvanni does not care about the Nerevarine any more then they do about the Temple willing to kill me, so I’ll be as safe there as anywhere I suppose.”

“Then how are you going to convince a bunch of wizards to call you Hortator?” she inquired.

“If there is one thing I have learned in politics, is that where there is power to be obtained, those who want more are willing to make deals, especially with an accomplished Assassin.”

“You’re saying the killing won’t stop?” she said crossly.

“Ilmeni, I’m uniting the Dunmer against Dagoth Ur, I wish it were as simple as showing them the ring, and they agree to my claims and requests. Not everyone believes me, not everyone even believes that Dagoth Ur is even a threat, that the Temple has everything well in hand. So yes, especially in trying to navigate my way through countless cultures that all hate and fight one another constantly, there will inevitably be bloodshed, if not by me, then by another, but the other may not have the same ends in mind as me.”

“What are the ends you have in mind?”

“If I live through all this?” I said contemplatively, sitting next to her on the bed. “In that unlikely event..I may take on the Grandmaster position in the Morag Tong, retire from politics completely, and instead profit from it. And...” I said looking into her eyes, “….maybe settle down, raise a family….”

“I meant in uniting the Dunmer,…but that is nice to hear.” She said laughing.

“Right, right. Umm, I am unsure completely right now. But I must lead the Tribes and Houses to War against the Sixth House, for a second time it would seem. I will likely die trying, but that is the burden of prophecy.”

“Prophecies and portents. How do YOU feel about all this? I mean, aren’t the Daedra schemers? Why should you do as Azura bids?”

“The Daedra are indeed schemers, in all this, based on what I’ve learned, I’m certain that Azura is manipulating events to take a measure of revenge upon the tribunal. You need to understand that the Daedra are neither wholly good, nor completely evil. Much like men and mer, they are arbitrary. We are more similar then different.”

“Do you worship them? What are your religious beliefs, if any?”

“I am not ‘religious’ as it were. But none can deny that the Aedra and Daedra exist. I look to Mephala and Azura for guidance in matters that are beyond my control. Mephala is the webspinner, she manipulates events for her delight, she revels in the murder carried out in her name, I am an Assassin, and Morag Tong, she is my Matron, though I do not entirely trust her, the same goes for Azura, but Azura is far more benevolent by comparison. Who can say? She is mystery, she is dusk and dawn. And she is my guide through the prophecies of Nerevar. The same could be said for me however, I do not think the Daedra completely trust us either, as we can always make our own choices, go our own paths, make promises and move in different directions.”

“So you admit that you’re treacherous, deceptive, cunning, and mysterious?”

I blinked. “What part of, ‘I’m an Assassin’ didn’t you hear? Of course I am all these things, and worse.”

“But you’re also honorable, compassionate even. Do you lie when you say that you love me?”

“That I could never lie about..I love you….Hey…now you’re trying to get in my pants!” I teased.

“You’re not wearing any.” She whispered as we leaned in to kiss.

“Then problem solved.”

On to the next chapter