Morrowind Day 41 - Slaver Fortress

25 Hearthfire
~~~

Another strange dream last night, this one slightly different than the others. The man with the golden mask was in it again, but this time was simply speaking to me, though I could not understand a word. His presence filled me with fear, but as usual I could not move at all. He only continued to talk and I had the impression he was smiling beneath the mask, but my fear gave way to suspicion and I was suddenly wary of his nonsensical words. Then I woke up. The dreams feel like they are growing worse, but I cannot pinpoint what about them makes it feel this way.

Ranis stopped me on my way out to ask me to have a word with an Argonian who has been making coin by providing training in casting from the Restoration school at the South Wall Cornerclub. Surprisingly, Ranis had no idea what this Argonian's name was, only that I was to convince him to stop his illegal service. I told her I would look into when I had the time, which did not happen to be today. It sounds simple, but I am a bit uneasy about becoming Ranis's personal enforcer.

Today's task seemed simple too: Go to fortress near Balmora, search through a pile of weak scrolls and useless sundries, find Propylon Stone, return to Caldera, done. But of course it was not anywhere near that simple.

The walk from Balmora to Hlormaren was predictably wet, dismal, and punctuated by attacks from Nix-Hounds and Kagouti, neither of which pose a threat to me any longer. I do remember the day I almost died to the Nix-Hounds outside of Ald'Ruhn while looking for that woman's missing husband...it seems a lifetime ago, though just coming up on only two months.

Hlormaren was built very similarly to other fortresses, all of which do not seem to have a great variance in construction technique or style, but do all serve as a very imposing monument to the now-deceased Dunmer nation. Like most of the others, there was no sign anyone was inhabiting the ruin, though this has never actually been the case. In fact, I nearly met my end while halfway through the front entrance.

I guess I have been becoming a little arrogant about my victories as of late and I think it is completely reasonable, given what I have done. How many Khajiit can say she has killed a Golden Saint and be telling the truth? I would wager not many. But pride does typically go before the fall and it was a large amount of luck which prevented my fall from becoming permanent.

However it was that they knew I was coming, the guards at the inside of the entrance were ready for me. I had just started to step across the door's threshold when I was attacked by a Bosmer armed with a light shield and short sword. I met her with my own shield and sword and parried her initial blow. I was just about to strike when a massive hammer swung out from the corner of my vision and smashed into my chest, throwing me back through the door and onto the hard stone of the fortress exterior. I remember feeling outraged and surprised instead of afraid, but the blow had been exceptionally strong and breathing was a struggle.

Had the slavers (as I later learned they were) had any sort of discipline I would not be writing this journal entry. Instead of killing me while I remained helpless, the Bosmer and my assailant, an Orc, started arguing! I remember their conversation with an absurd amount of clarity: the Bosmer arguing that the Orc's surprise attack nearly took off her arm and the Orc sneering about what a loss that would have been and bragging about the distance I flew, which he naturally exaggerated. This gave me enough time to drink an Invisibility potion and crawl to the side of the Propylon chamber building. Their arguing and the potion's effect ceased at about the same time, but I was out of sight behind the far side of the chamber building when they turned their attention towards me.

I can only imagine their surprise if they thought me already dead and I expected that they would retreat inside the fortress and close the door. I would have, it's the only way in! Instead, they fanned out, the Bosmer circling about in one direction and the Orc, large even among his kind, hefted the massive hammer and stalked off in the opposite direction, towards the Propylon chamber I was hiding behind. I drank a health restoration potion and followed it with my last invisibility one. For whatever reason, the Orc fought vainly, which is to say he had no shirt on and little armor anywhere else. In melee this would count for less than most people think, but I had a bow, which his lack of armor could be made to count for a lot.

Still, he was an Orc, which meant the two arrows that smacked into his chest only seemed to get him angrier. His warcry was in a language I did not recognize, but it did serve to get the attention of his Bosmer companion, who started running in my direction, but the Orc was the more pressing matter. I was not foolish enough to pit myself against him and his hammer, but he was running at me quite quickly and I could not get a third arrow loosed. What I could do was drop my bow and recite the incantation to a scroll promising to summon a (weak) Flame Atrnoach. I cannot remember where or when I found the thing, but it has been in my pack for as long as I could remember and getting rid of it in a useful way seemed a fitting end.

The Orc's end was admittedly fitting, but also more brutal than I personally give to my opponents. The summoning was quick and he had no chance to halt his charge before the Atronach flung a fireball at him. Stripped to the waist as he was, the fireball's damage was grievous and he stumbled into the Atronach, whose flaming body did him no visible harm. Interesting point. The Atronach was not nearly as curious and began pummeling the Orc's body as he struggled to rise. I turned my attention to the Bosmer who was wavering with indecision as to whether to assist the quarrelsome Orc or attack me instead. I made that choice an easy one and attacked her, trusting the Atronach to keep the Orc busy.

She quickly fled back into the fort and the Orc had managed to ward off the Atronach's blows well enough to flee as well. Naturally, the Atronach's magic was spent just at that moment and it was whisked away back from whence it came, leaving the two slavers to myself again. The Orc's injuries looked severe, but he was moving well enough and I do not know why they failed to press the advantage they gained when the Atronach disappeared. Perhaps they were seeking to summon help from further within the fortress or thought I would retreat as well. They did not make it very far.

The slavers were well-armed and many, but like the rebels in the other fortress they lacked cohesion. I was able to stalk the corridors and kill them one by one, or rarely, in pairs. Many of them were armed with Glass daggers enchanted with a paralysis strike and I thought it odd until I realized the utility this would have for slavers.

The slaves were held in a room on the underground level and guarded by a scarred Nord wielding a very simple club, contrary to the generally decent weaponry wielded by his comrades. The key I took from his body unlocked the four prison cells and the slaves' shackles, of which there were seven trapped in three bare stone cells, three of them Khajiit and the rest Argonian. They individually told me the same story: they were aspiring merchants who managed to pool their money together for a small ship and goods and set out towards possibly the worst island to sail near: Vvardenfell. They wrecked their ship on a barren stretch of coast in the southeast and were ambushed by the slavers while trying to reach Suran. None of them were warriors of any skill and surrendered expecting to be robbed only of goods. But they were shackled enmasse and smuggled along the coast to Hla Oad before being incarcerated at Hlormaren. Collecting them in the main room, I surprised them by inviting each of them to strip the bodies and fortress of wealth before they traveled to Balmora.

They were very grateful, but insisted that they could not leave without two other Khajiit that had been taken to the roof and asked if I could free them as well. I had to go to the roof for the Stone anyway, so I agreed. They informed me that the door on the far side of the room led to the sewers, making this the first Dunmer fortress I have been in that had such a consideration. I had no desire to see it for myself and asked them to wait until I came back from the roof, which they agreed to do.

There were only two individuals on the roof: an archer and a mage, the latter whose equipment seemed to identify her as the slavers' leader. The archer was well-armed like the rest, but seemed ill at ease with his steel-backed bow and failed to hit me with any of the silver arrows he carelessly let fly in my direction. He decided to draw his sword too late as I approached him and he found he had not quite enough room to swing his longsword as I stabbed at him with my shorter, more nimble sword. The archer actually had two swords on him, both silver longswords. Those, plus the silver arrows, support my theory that their equipment was mostly loot they were not practiced with using.

The only foe other than the Orc that gave me any trouble was the mage, leader of the slavers and possessor of the Propylon Stone I had come to fetch. She had been on the far side of the roof when I was fighting the archer, but had failed to see me. Unfortunately my invisibility spell would not last long enough to approach her without being noticed too early; my only option was to try to weaken her as much as possible at a distance before closing in.

The arrow I flung in front of her face certainly got her attention and she spun around, waving her arms and running towards me. I thought she had mistaken me for one of her slavers at first, but the bonewalker that materialized in front of her made that assumption unlikely and made my plan to hit her with arrows suddenly not feasible.

She must have been a powerful mage, for the creature was stronger than the Bonewalkers I had run into in Vivec and each of its strikes made me feel like I needed a nap. But concentrating on the Bonewalker would leave the more dangerous mage available to concentrate on her spells, so I endured its attacks and kept my attention focused on the mage. She was a difficult opponent, in no small part due to the surprise of finding she was wearing heavy Ebony armor underneath her robe, which I reduced to tatters in my attempts to get past the cuirass.

In a move that puzzles me as I recollect it now, she sprang away from me and ran for the dome on the roof of the fortress and I used that opportunity to send the Bonewalker back to where ever the things come from. Free from combat for the moment, I quickly drank a restorative potion for health and magicka and cast my Invisibility spell as I crept towards the dome. My hunch proved correct: she burst out of the dome, shouting and waving a cumbersome-looking Dwemer spear and stopped short when she failed to see me or the expected Bonewalker.

Powerful mage or no, an experienced warrior would not have stood there peering around for an enemy she could not see. The sudden gushing of blood from the slash into the side of her neck was the only indication that I had been behind her, but the nameless slaver's paralysis-enchanted dagger did its job faithfully and she died unable to move or make a noise. Fitting.

What I mistook for a spear was another of the Dwemer people's strange concept as to what a halberd should look like and the weapon was of no utility to me. I left it near her body and remembering that the remaining two slaves were inside, knocked on the door, still ready to skewer anything that might leap out of course. I heard shuffling and whispering behind the door and after a few moments a young female Khajiit opened the door hesitantly  Seeing me, she yelp and fled back into the dome and I pushed my way past the half-closed door to find myself facing a very brave and very foolish male Khajiit brandishing a wooden stool.

I laughed harder than I have in a long, long time. The scene was just so ridiculous. There I was: splattered with the blood of a dozen foes, wielding weapons and wearing armor superior to that of many in the Imperial Legion and my final opponent was a half-dressed Khajiit wielding a piece of furniture. Nothing I said would convince them I was a friend until I invited them to walk outside and witness the remains of their former master, after which they became a great deal less hostile, especially once they learned their friends were waiting down below.

The female was Dahnara and the male S'Vandra, siblings and traders who had supplied the caravan, and indirectly the slavers, with most of the better weaponry and armor I had encountered. They were greatly cheered by my offer to reclaim their wares from the former owners, having thought themselves destitute after I freed them. They were able to readily point out the Propylon Stone from one of the shelves and Dahnara went as far as to fetch it, shyly handing me the hunk of rock with her thanks. I let them know I intended to stay in the dome for the night and they left to join the others in the fortress.

Ever cautious, I closed the door behind them, dragged several chests in front of it, then locked it magically. I have no doubt that even a concentrated effort on their part would only see them all dead, but I have no desire to see such an outcome. I will spend the night alone in the Dome and they will probably spend the night looting the fortress, which they are all welcome to. Money has not a lot of meaning when you are stuck on Vvardenfell.

Morrowind Day 40 - Paranoia of the Telvanni

24 Hearthfire
~~~

The remaining accommodation available to me at the Gateway Inn when I stumbled in last night might have been someone's nap-time hideaway: just a cot, a small table, and a flimsy privacy screen, all of which set me back ten Septims. Situated right above the bar, I was guaranteed a lullaby of harsh noises and harsher voices, but I have certainly slept in worse places. Hospitality is not to be expected from the Telvanni and generally not to be found within their towns. I would have been better off spending the night at the nearby Imperial fort.

I purchased "Hospitality Papers" from a Telvanni as I was leaving the inn. While it sounded like a scam, I know that there are papers that the Telvanni require foreigners to acquire before they will do business with you, so for twenty-five Septims I took the chance that the Dunmer selling them was genuine.

There was no chance to test them out though; the dawn was just rising as I left the inn and the shops were still closed. The Imperial fort was a polite distance away from town, but I saw no one outside, not even a Telvanni guard. When I arrived at the fort, Wolverine Hall, I asked for directions to the Mages Guild and was pointed towards a tower along the curtain wall. One would assume that meant the Mages Guild is in the tower, simple enough. But no, the Imperial Chapel was in the tower and the Fighters Guild was under the tower. The Mages Guild was under a different tower only reachable by going through the first tower, then along the inside of the wall, then up the spiral stairs to the second, formerly unreachable tower.

I doubt it is to keep out Telvanni sightseers.

The enchanter there, Dabrenne Mornardl, was interested in buying a few of the more mundane pieces of equipment I had taken from the Dunmer fortress, so I exchanged a minor ring and staff for some Septims and teleported back to the friendly faces at Balmora to sell some things. I think I heard Ajira ask what I had to sell her before the teleportation spell fully popped me into existence, but that could just be my imagination. I did sell her three vials of Skooma and the rest of my enchanted finds to Galbedir, further weighing myself down with coin.

A trip to the Caldera guild was also called for to deliver the Propylon stone to Folms. As always, he paid me five hundred Septims for the stone and sent me off in search of another, this one for the haunted fort of Berandas, where I nearly died to the two feminine Daedra. The stone was held by a mage living near Gnisis, so I guessed the retrieval would be fairly easy. After all, you cannot have monsters running around your home if you are in town, right? Wrong again...

The quickest way to Gnisis is found by teleporting to Ald'Ruhn, then taking the Silt Strider to the town. I did not tarry in Ald'Ruhn or its Guild (not much there really!) and wound up in Gnisis at about one in the afternoon, according to a helpful Gnisis guard.

The "tower" shares the same squat architecture as a lot of Vvardenfell's architecture, but I know enough now to expect several of the levels to be below ground. The people of Gnisis could not give me much information on the building or the inhabitant, other than to say the mage had lost a lot of his retainers in the previous years. According to one towns-person, the apprentices and servants simply left and no one knows why. Perhaps the mage was formerly Telvanni and renounced the House? That's the only theory I have, but the Telvanni do not seem the type to let a former Telvanni live out his days peacefully.

Knocking on the door failed the attention of anyone inside, so I let myself in. The tower was very quiet and the bedrooms on the initial level, which I took for servant quarters, were deserted and had not been occupied for quite some time. There was a jail cell on a lower level, but this too was empty and unused. One of the bedrooms had a single inhabitant, but it was a large rat, which I left alone.

The tower was built along the lines of a single, large ramp that the entryway deposits you into the middle of. Following the ramp lower brings you to the jail cell and following it higher would lead me to the mage, if he was in the tower at all. The ramp ended at an ornate door very similar to the ones I saw in the burial tombs. Always one to be cautious, I removed my helmet and held my ear against the door. The thick construction served to prevent noise from coming through, but listening at the hinge probably saved my life. At the time, I could not tell what was making the noise, but there was a growl-like noise behind the door, as well as the sound of something walking about. I guessed correctly  that it was not the mage, but after using my defensive magics and opening the door, I found I was still unprepared.

The noise was a Daedroth, dutifully guarding the entrance into the mage's quarters. If the creature had been walking about, I would have had a better chance. If it had been not directly facing the door when I opened it, I would certainly have had a better chance. As it was, I opened the door to find myself about ten feet away from a very alert, and suddenly entertained, Daedroth.

Whichever of the Nine Divines was watching over me has my thanks. I cannot recollect why I thought it would be a good idea against a Daedra, but I used my Silence spell against the Daedroth, though I now realize the chance of it working was very slim. I must have been very lucky, for the spell did hold and the Daedroth was temporarily unable to shape its magicka against me. This probably saved me a fireball to the face. After realizing what happened, the Daedroth charged through the door, jaw and claws reaching for me and still a very dangerous opponent.

But the Daedroth are the thugs of the Daedra world: some brain, but mostly brawn. They are very strong physically and capable spellcasters, but they do not seem to go much for strategy. My silence spell only lasts for a few seconds, but the Daedroth never abandoned its attempt to claw my throat out, even though its spells would have been accessible early into the fight and far more effective. As it was, I certainly have experience in meele with larger, stronger opponents and I hampered its freedom of movement by keeping the creature pinned in the doorway. Constricted, the Daedroth's lack of mobility coupled with its long arms spelled out a quick end.

The room it was guarding was mostly empty with a ramp on the far side leading further upwards. I started to hear an odd clanking noise as I crept across the room and a Dwemer construct swept down the ramp, balancing its on a large sphere that served as its lower body. Turning towards me, it pointed an arm that ended in some kind of crossbow at me and started firing heavy (and valuable!) Dwemer bolts.

The construct was powerful, but slow and while I certainly could not dodge the crossbow bolts, it was easy to dodge its aiming mechanism and I used the thing for my own target practice, though the arrows seemed to bounce off of it. I finally closed the distance and disabled it with my spear. In numbers this thing must have been quite a foe, but on its own, not much.

Its defeat left the path to the Telvanni wizard bare and I was expecting quite a fight...and again was surprised. He was more annoyed that I had killed off the Daedroth he summoned and the construct he bought in an effort to keep the people of Gnisis from realizing the tower was occupied only by him. He feared that they would chase him out and reclaim the property after they discovered all his retainers had left, though he would not say why they did.

I informed him that the town was well aware he was the only occupant of the tower but feared him too much to make any move towards evicting him and hearing that his name still inspired fear in the locals cheered him greatly. A true Telvanni...I guess.

Having stabilized his view of the future, he was generous towards my request for the Propylon stone, inviting me to take it if I could find it among the shelves of his laboratory. A few minutes of searching found it wedged between bottles of imported brandy, most of them uncorked and in various levels of fill. Ever polite to powerful mages, I bade him thanks and goodbye and received a grunt and nod in response as I walked down the ramp and eventually back to the Gnisis caravaner to hire a ride back to Ald'Ruhn.

The strider lumbered into Ald'Ruhn late into the evening and I paid the guild guide for teleportation to Caldera, where Folms was, as usual, loitering about. Am I the only one in the guild that does actual work? Whatever occupies his time, he had the money and location of the next stone ready for me. He has now tasked me with locating the Andasreth Index, which he has heard is in the possession of a Dunmer bandit taking refuge at the coastal Dunmer fortress Hlormaren, west of Balmora. 

That the fortress lies close to Balmora is certainly good news and hopefully something I can take care of quickly. I do hope that Folms is running out of stones for me to fetch.

Morrowind Day 39 - The Madman of Tel Fyr

23 Hearthfire
~~~

I had another dream last night, this one containing the same Dunmer with the golden mask. Rather than showing me to a party, he stated that he had delivered me from my 'enemies' and suddenly I saw my own body on a stone slab, as if I had died, surrounded by marble and expensive furnishings. In the dream, I (or someone) touched my body and I seemed to wake and start to rise off the stone. But then the room we were in disappeared and a white light blinded me...then I woke up.

It was not as disturbing as the first dream, but I still could not fall back asleep. I left the Mages Guild just after midnight this morning and ate a quick breakfast at the Eight Plates, which never seems to close. Rather than accept another job from Ranis, I decided to make the journey to the Telvanni tower of Tel Fyr to steal the Propylon Stone, hopefully avoiding the wizard residing within. As always, Morrowind took my expectations and laughed at them.

If the dream was not bad enough, I ran into another sleep-walking acolyte of the Sixth House outside the Eight Plates. This one was pushier than most, demanding that I serve Dagoth Ur and claiming that the Sixth House has risen again, bringing Dagoth Ur his glory. While he was raving and shouting at about two in the morning, he made no physical threats against me, so I left him alone. What the guards wound up doing with him to quiet him down is their own business.

I managed a pretty good pace initially, reaching Lake Nabia (again!) after an hour or so of walking, but a Blight storm started to redden the sky and I was engulfed in choking dust and screaming wind coincidentally near Punabi. I doubt I would have been welcome either there or at Sulipund and I walked past them, still peering into the red haze for shelter. Lava pools started to appear as I headed further east and I kept them in sight to use as navigational aids. It is in this way that I found the unnamed Dwemer fortress.

The ruined Dwemer fortress was built into the the hillside adjacent to a giant telescope as they commonly are and I saw no signs of habitation outside. But experience taught me well enough to know that this was no indication of what I would find inside and I used one of my weaker enchanted rings to summon a barrier around me to deflect and soften blows.

My precaution paid off. I was attacked by an Imperial woman as soon as I slipped through the heavy iron doors and she got in several good slashes with her sword against my bare arms before I  could bring my own weapon to bear. Immediately I recognized that something about the woman was a little 'off' and the unique grating sound of her voice identified her as a vampire, though evidently a young one. The battle was a short one: She fought with her back to an open pit in the entrance chamber and I drove her into it, thinking it a refuse pit that I could use to collect myself for a few moments. She fell into it with a snarl and I readied myself, prepared to attack her when she climbed out. But she never did.

Distracted by the immediacy of combat, I had not really looked at the room I was in. It was only then that I realized that what I took for a refuse pit was...probably a refuse pit at some point, but more importantly was where Dwemer architects had exposed a pit of lava maybe eight feet below the giant grate that I mistook for a solid floor. The heat and stink of the molten rock crept into my senses as the rush of combat wore off and I carefully skirted the opening as I moved deeper into the ruins.

A second Imperial vampire, this one a male, charged at me from the end of a hallway and I had no time to draw my bow before we became engaged, but his chitin armor was little use against my spear. I suppose the poor quality of his armor might mark him as a young Vampire, but he proved less of an opponent than his unfortunate comrade at the entrance.

The most distasteful thing to encounter when fighting vampires are the slaves whom they keep to feed on. The ones here were mostly Khajiit and had enough of their senses so that I was able to converse lightly with them, though they spoke of events that I think occurred before their enslavement and had little understanding of their current predicament. All of the slaves I talked to declared themselves 'cattle' of the 'Berne Clan' and nothing else. Their minds were just as dulled as the ones in the other den, just in a different way. I left them alone as I proceeded further, angry at seeing so many Khajiit like that.

Two Vampires were guarding a room they were using as a sort of vault, shelves and chests full of equipment stacked against all four walls. I never will make the mistake of assuming Vampires are stupid, but the younger ones seem afflicted with a blinding aggression and I was able to lure both of them into a doorway, where they divided their attention between killing me and continually jostling past one another in an effort to kill me. The second Vampire nearly tripped over the corpse after I slew the first one and she joined her crumpled friend in the doorway.

The vault was a massive collection of equipment, most of it mundane, but some quite valuable. A pair of Daedric armored boots were precariously set on shelf alongside a Dreugh cuirass, but the rest were steel or leather armors and not particularly useful. As usual, I could not actually carry the boots with me, but I am beginning to take pride in not taking such things: my skills are well enough that my silver spear and sword are more than adequate.

 The huge Dwemer chests held more armor and weapons, most of which could have been purchased at any shop, but again there were a few valuable pieces: armored boots of volcanic Glass, a few Dwemer weapons, and the most valuable (to me): four throwing stars of Ebony crystal, sharper than any steel weapon and each more valuable than an entire suit of steel armor. I took them not to use, but to hopefully display alongside the two Daedric arrows once I find a secure home.

The room beyond the vault contained an older Vampire, either unaware or uncaring of the combat in the previous room. I say she was older because she seemed more capable, casting several Conjuration spells, one of which placed a Daedric Cuirass upon her. She summoned several hostile spirits that were similar to the few I had encountered the the Dunmer burial tombs, but kept use of her steel short sword. I ignored the ghosts and concentrated on the unarmored parts of her body. Her style was rough and unpracticed, more accustomed to spells than sword. Interestingly, the summoned Daedric Cuirass remained on her body even after death, though her ghosts had obediently disappeared. Whatever energy was sustaining its existence also maintained its position and could not be removed from the body, no matter what I tried.

The Vampires had only inhabited the rooms closest to the entrance, for when I entered the lower level I found no Vampires, but I still was not alone. Garrisoned on the lower level were several giant Dwemer constructions, each far larger than any race and all armed with weaponry somehow fused into their arms. Constructed entirely of Dwemer metal, they were incredibly tough to destroy, but not very dangerous. The many years of neglect appears to have taken their toll and I imagine in their prime they were far quicker, quiet, and more dangerous compared to the squeaking and squealing of their cumbersome metal limbs today. Their blows were delivered slowly with great strength, but they lacked the cunning of a thinking enemy and their attacks were easily predicted and dodged. If they were effective at one aspect of combat it was in damaging my spear and sword during my attempts to damage them. Attacking their joints seem to have the best effect.

The room with the giant telescope contained the last Vampire, this one larger and stronger than the others. He had his back turned to me when I entered the room, evidently poring over a book he had laid out on the table. I made no noise that I could hear, but he suddenly spun around and ran at me, maybe hoping to dash me to the ground before I could react.

For whatever reason, my first reaction was to cast my Blindness spell, despite it never having worked well previously. To my amazement, I not only cast it successfully, but it struck the Vampire and blinded him momentarily. I positioned myself to receive his attack once the spell wore off as he howled and swung his arms wildly (he wielded no weapon) in an attempt to find me. It would have be comical if the situation was not as deadly. I drank a potion of Invisibility just as it appeared he was regaining his vision and moved towards his desk, throwing a glass dagger past him and into the hallway to distract him. He spun towards the clattering and assumed I had run away, just as I had hoped. Amazingly, he returned to his book with a smug grin.

The grin did not last long. I drove my spear into his back as soon as he resumed reading and he gave an inhuman roar as he spun to attack me. He seemed to give no thought to the spear lodged in his back and eagerly clawed at my throat...and then collapsed in a heap. His struggling attacks had caught the spear's shaft against a Dwemer construct and when he moved again, the spear head slashed sideways through his spine. I made sure he died quickly. Other than the telescope, the room contained nothing of much interest and I steeled myself for my next task.

With their sadistic caretakers dead, the 'cattle' slaves would suffer slow, painful deaths as they starved or thirsted without sustenance. I knew of no way to help them recover their enchantment, nor did I think it would simply wear off. I killed each one of them, nearly all Khajiit, instantly and painlessly and buried them outside the fortress. I dumped the vampires into a lava pit, ensuring no trace of them remained.

The Vampires' final sleep

The storm was still raging when I left the ruins and I continued onward towards Tel Fyr, following a narrow snaking lake of lava to keep my bearings straight. I encountered a wild guar peacefully munching on some spiny ashland grass, not seeming to notice or care about the storm raging around it. The guar eyed me as if to gauge the likelihood of its lunch being interrupted, but I left it alone. After the death at the ruins, this little episode seemed not quite real.

I had no further adventures between the ruins and the Telvanni tower of Tel Fyr and the storm died down just as I was walking from the shore to the small island housing the tower.

Telvanni architecture always looks to owe more to being grown than built and Tel Fyr was no exception to the rule. It spirals up from the ground and actually sprouts branches and trunks at odd intervals, large mushrooms growing on top of some. Living quarters are carved out from the inside of the mushroom-tree and I expected the inside to be what living inside of a tree must look like.

I could not have been more wrong. Contrary to my expectation, the tower was open to visitors, so I knocked on the door and was greeted by a young Dunmer woman who asked if I was sick. Confused, I told her I was seeking a stone from Tel Fyr and she shrugged and said I was welcome to search for it. The architecture of the building was a very bright to my eyes and very gold, the combination unlike the inside of any tree I have seen.

The woman returned to whatever she was doing before my arrival and paid me no more attention. She was quite friendly though and cheerfully answered all of my questions. She introduced herself as 'one' of Divayth Fyr's wives, which was surprising, as I had not heard that the Dunmer subscribed to the practice of multiple spouses. She did not know about the Propylon Stone and suggested it might be below in what she called the 'Corprusarium', which she described as a haven of sorts for people and creatures afflicted by the Blight. Apparently Divayth Fyr enjoyed letting would-be thieves into the Corprusarium, with the understandable expectation that many of them would not be making it back out. Rather barbaric.

Another Dunmer woman, one of his other wives I suppose, informed me that 'Lord Fyr' was in his study and only reachable via a flywell. I had never heard the term before, but a flywell is really just a hole in the ceilings above, allowing one to levitate to the various upper levels via one common path. Very useful, if you can fly.

Which I normally cannot. But I had snatched a scroll which seemed to promise levitation a few days ago from the bandit cave and confidently stood below the flywell, recited the incantation, and brushed the ash off my hands as the scroll disintegrated. I expected to gently float upwards, but the scroll's magic sent me flying up three floors and dashed me against the ceiling. Had I not had my helmet on, I may have been knocked out at the very least, if not killed. The magic in the mysterious scroll was far more powerful than I anticipated and was certainly not written with flywells in mind. A painful, though harmless lesson in the risks of using scrolls you do not fully understand.

A second woman had witnessed my embarrassing ascent and sarcastically asked me if that had been my first time. It had, but I did not answer her jibe and asked for directions to Divayth, which she silently pointed out, her attitude a marked difference from the woman downstairs.

Divayth had his backed turned to the entrance of his chamber, his attention focused on something on the table in front of him, but my own was focused on his armor. With the exception of the helm, the man was (and still is) entirely armored with Daedric-infused plate. Value aside, the sum of the armor's weight must have been incredible and the man himself did not appear very strong, so the armor was not only rare on its own, but powerfully enchanted to either reduce the burden or increase the wearer's capacity to bear it. I remember thinking I would have to fight him in order to get the Propylon Stone, but I would quickly have been destroyed. I have fought Golden Saints, Dremora, and Daedroth, but Divayth would have been a foe all his own.

Divayth Fyr

But my expectation was completely wrong. Divayth may be the most approachable Dunmer on Vvardenfell and perhaps not coincidentally, the most mad. Hearing me walking in, he turned around and greeted me jubilantly, catching me completely off-guard. He asked if I was infected with 'the divine disease', or if I came to plunder the Corprusarium or leer at his daughters...the last question being very odd for several reasons. I would wager not many Khajiit, male or female, came to his tower at all, and none just to look at the women.

He professed interest and amazement with the Blight disease and he works continuously to find out why the afflicted seem not to age, though their sanity rots and their body warps into hideous, unthinking monsters. He called the affliction both a curse and a blessing and has made it his life's ambition to separate the two. But immortality would be in itself a blessing and a curse, at least in my opinion, and I wonder what drives his ambition.

His speech grew stranger from there. He declared that the woman the he referred to as his 'daughters' were neither his wives nor his daughters, but the results of an experiment with flesh taken from a Corpus victim. He claims all of the women were grown in a jar from a combination of his own flesh and that harvested from a victim of the Blight. This is of course utter nonsense for people cannot be born in jars! The women must be very patient House retainers or private caretakers of some sort, perhaps making sure Divayth pauses his studies eat now and then. He seems the type.

Being over a thousand year sold, it may be that time is starting to play tricks on his mind. Whatever the case, the man is quite friendly and exceptionally skilled, definitely not what I expected when I came to visit the Telvanni wizard. When I asked him about the Propylon Stone he invited me to take it, declaring that he was thinking of tossing it into the Corprusarium for the 'guests' housed within to play with. I thanked him, pocketed the stone, and left him to his work. 

The Divine Intervention scroll dropped me just outside of the Imperial fort 'Wolverine Hall' near Sadrith Mora and I walked through the deserted-looking Telvanni town to the Gateway Inn, where I rented a room. I could have stayed at the Mages Guild for free, but I am conscious of becoming insulated into the Guild like many of the others, most of who never seem to go outside, instead just teleporting from one guildhall to another, lost in their own little worlds.

Morrowind Day 38 - Membership by Sword or Sale

22 Hearthfire
~~~

I once heard a bard in the Imperial City complain that money could not buy love. I do not know what sort of love he was looking for, but I suppose he is right. Wealth is quite literally sitting around waiting to be taken in Morrowind, but I still wake up with a cavern over my head. If I run into the bard again, I will have to make sure I correct him: money can neither buy love nor a roof over one's head on this island. Money can buy just about everything else in Morrowind though, including loyalty.

A heavy dust storm greeted me as I stumbled out of my cave dwelling and I had the misfortune of trying to locate a small cave in the middle of a dust storm. Reaching Lake Nabia provided no relief, for the dust manages to float along the top of the water, at least for a short while, creating a layer of grime that deterred me from attempting a quick wash.

To add more to my misery, the flying creatures which normally left me alone were quite vicious and suffering no apparent defect in vision due to the storm. The only prelude to their attacks was a loud screech and a sharp beak or talons scraping across my helmet. My bow was useless in the strong winds, so I had no choice but to stay alert, wildly stabbing the sky with my spear as soon as I heard the screeching. I missed often and suffered their raking attacks, but I did manage to kill one in this manner. Once engaged they fall quickly and all of them that attacked me had growths on their bodies, an affliction perhaps gained from time spent roosting on the Red Mountain.

It was a relief when I found the weather-beaten door to the former mine of Punabi. Manwe met me a little ways inside, clearly there to prevent me from going any further, not that I had any reason to. I was only there to collect some money and I was able to leave it at that. She was not cooperative though, telling me that she left the Mages Guild and was therefore not responsible for any money, suggesting that I pay Ranis myself.

The barely visible door into Punabi

The point was not that I easily could pay Ranis myself, it was that I killed several smugglers on my way to see her and walked all morning in absolutely miserable weather to find her, only to receive the suggestion that I should have stayed nice and dust-free at the Guild and paid Ranis out of my own pocket. I remembered Ranis's willingness to accept the woman's death and really almost took that option. But I wanted to be able to tell myself I tried not to if it came to it, so I threatened her with imminent death instead.

My threat was not stated that crudely, of course. I simply pointed out that I had spent all morning in the dust storm being attacked by diseased creatures and that on my way here I had stumbled upon a den of smugglers and killed them all before spending the night on one of their cots, all of it in an effort to clear up this misunderstanding between Manwe and the Mages Guild. Still maintaining what I hoped came across as a friendly tone of voice, I told Manwe that while Ranis was looking forward to receiving the money, a report of  her death was also acceptable.

The last part did the trick. I do not know what sort of relationship exists between Manwe and Ranis, but Manwe shuddered and muttered something while handing me a sack of coins from inside her robes. I made a show of not counting them, but I am sure all parties involved know that Ranis would send me back to kill Manwe if she tried to cheat her way out of the situation. Having received the money, I smiled, wished her good fortune with her studies, and walked out of Punabi, right back into the dust storm.

Marandus across Lake Nabia

The Dunmer fortress Marandus loomed across the lake, its squat roof just barely visible in the storm. I anticipated that it would be occupied by hostile creatures or people, but the fortresses' Propylon chambers have so far been unoccupied and a safe place to wait out the storm for a short time.

Declining to spend more time getting covered in dust and dirt, I walked across the lake and was surprised to find an armored Dunmer loitering outside of the main doors into the fort. Seeing me, he waved and approached with his sword sheathed. He was suspicious of me at first, but relaxed when I told him I was in the area on Imperial guild business. He invited me to use the Propylon chamber for shelter and I asked him why he was standing in the storm instead of finding shelter himself. He introduced himself as Tevyn Athin of House Redoran and told me quite a story.

He was actually standing guard over the fortress entrance, along with a few of his comrades stranded on the fortress roof. He was part of a Redoran expedition out of Vivec tasked with clearing out the fortress and reclaiming it for the House.The first part went well enough, the fortress was inhabited by smugglers whom were no match for the Redoran warriors and the expedition occupied the fortress quickly.

However, treachery struck from within and a large number of House retainers rebelled as one, battling the now outnumbered retainers who were not included in the plan. A small number of loyal warriors battled their way out of the fortress, while the rest of them were driven to the roof, where they remained. The group Tevyn had been with was heading back to Vivec to gather reinforcements, leaving him behind to guard the front gate. 

His manner was stiff, but not hostile, so I spoke with him about his House for a bit, mentioning that a few people had suggested I talk to someone about admission, which interested him. He asked me what I did and where I had been, but those are difficult questions for me to answer right now. I settled for telling him I am a former mercenary, now a freelance adventurer. When he commented that I looked young for a mercenary, I replied that I never said I did it for long, which actually got a laugh from him. He encouraged me to join his House, a recommendation I seem to be receiving with increasing frequency. I asked him if he would mind if I ventured inside to test my skills against the rogue Redoran. He had no issues with it and asked if I could let the men trapped on the roof know of their impending rescue, since he could not make himself heard over the howl of the storm. I guess he thought I would be sneaking my way  past the rebels, but I wound up becoming the "impending rescue".

The rebels themselves, like the smugglers, do not bear much mentioning. After hearing about the martial prowess of the House Redoran warriors I was excited to finally be facing them in battle. Luck was not with me in that regard, nor with them. The rebels were all recent recruits, maybe convinced that the House would somehow judge them not worth the time and ignore them. The proximity of the fortress to the city of Vivec makes that nearly impossible and I have no idea what they were thinking.

Inexperienced, they spread themselves out among the rooms and corridors of the fortress, diluting their advantage in numbers. At no time did I ever find myself up against more than two foes at a time and I killed the ones on their own invisibly and quickly.

The combat was not worth it and neither was the loot: just a single glass dagger, a chunk of raw ebony, an emerald, and a sum of about two hundred Septims, gathered in tens and twenties throughout the place. I did find an apparent worship book of the Sixth House, which titled Dagoth Ur the 'Sharmat', whatever that is. The book itself is titled 'Sithis' and contains only a few paragraphs. I plan on giving it to my friend next time I see him.

The men stuck on the roof were very surprised to see me and I suspect that if I was a Dunmer I would have been killed before I could announce myself as a friend. As it was, their expedition contained no Khajiit, so my presence demanded explanation, possibly followed by death. But when I informed them that additional Redoran were on their way from Vivec and that I had cleared their way through the fortress, they became quite friendly. They left the roof immediately and one of them handed me a key to a dome hut atop the roof, so far unique among the Dunmer fortresses. I wonder why they did not take shelter there instead of standing in the open collecting dust and dirt.

The dome was obviously someone's home at some point, containing a bed, two chests (empty) and a dresser. Once I get the Propylon Index, it may be a good place to live, provided House Redoran has not taken over the fortress by then. With nothing else to do there, I left the fortress and walked across the lake to stand in front of Punabi again. According to Ranis's directions, the man whom I was supposed to convince to join the Guild lived along the same road as the cave. It was about two minutes away from Punabi, but I had failed to see it in the storm earlier this morning. I had left the fortress in the late afternoon and the storm was still going strong, but by then the setting sun provided slightly better visibility.

Sulipund

The small tower of Sulipund was open to visitors and I had to only knock on the door to be let in. I was a bit surprised to be greeted by a young Bosmer instead of the Dunmer I had expected, but she, as well as the others in the tower, was a House Telvanni retainer and a minor mage herself. Unsurprisingly, the four House Telvanni retainers were an unfriendly lot, demanding to be left alone to their own business, just as their master allowed. Their master was  Llarar Bereloth, the man I was supposed to convince to join the Guild. I thought it would be a difficult task, but if it came to it I was permitted to kill him too.

It never came to that. He was low-ranking in House Telvanni and I suspect he only joined for the discount on magical services. He cared neither for the House nor the Mages Guild and snapped at me to give him a reason to listen when I asked him to join the Guild. 'Reason' came in the form of Septims whose weight I was eager to be rid of, in this case one thousand of them. The money changed hands and he agreed to join the Guild if I left him in peace to pursue his work, promising to talk to Ranis next time he was in Balmora. I suspect if he does not I shall be paying him another visit. There was no point in walking back to Balmora, so I expended a scroll of Divine Intervention which sent me from the tower of Sulipund to the Imperial Fort of Moonmoth which was lucky: I was expecting Ebonheart.

Ranis was pleased that I had succeeded, stating that I was the first member to get Manwe to pay her 'dues', whatever the true reason for them was. That I also managed to convince Llarar to join the Guild was even better. She gave me four powerful magicka restoration potions for my efforts and promoted me to the title of Evoker, which I am sure will not be going to my head.

I sold some empty soul gems and scrolls to Galbedir and gems to Ajira before turning in for the night. It is now just before midnight and I am quite exhausted. I may resume my quest for the Propylon Stones tomorrow.

Morrowind Day 37 - Intrigue at the Library

21 Hearthfire
~~~

I do not think I will ever get used to the sight of the rock Baar Dau hovering over the Temple canton of Vivec. Ringed by construction, it is obvious that the Tribunal Temple considers it safe enough to live within, but I'm uneasy when I can see it and profoundly nervous when I am under it, as I was this morning.

My third contact was a priestess in service to the Temple, Mehra Milo, and my written orders cautioned me to not ask anyone in the Temple for her, as her cooperation with the Imperial throne was unknown within her organization. Fortunately, she worked in the Library, which is open to the public, and I had no issues with finding her.

Identifying myself, she played every part the spy: beckoning me to follow, she led me to a small room in the rear of the library so that we could talk privately. In what was by then a familiar introduction, she apologized for not knowing much about the Sixth House, but did have many notes on the cult of the Nerevarine. According to her, the Temple does not dispute Lord Nerevar's status as a saint and hero of the Dunmer, but does take exception to the belief of Lord Nerevar's reincarnation, which is in conflict with the Temple's worship of the Tribunal as gods. A splinter faction calling themselves the the Dissident Priests preaches against the Temple's dogma and in favor of something very similar to the traditional Ashland beliefs.

The Dissident Priests' founding document is a book titled 'Progress of Truth', possession of which is outlawed by the Temple. She recommended I secure a copy somehow and deliver it to my friend along with the bundle of notes I have collected, which she added to. Reminded of the caution I was urged by my friend when speaking with Mehra, I asked her about him and she had only praise for the man. I suppose it takes all types or he has yet to warm up to anyone else. She admitted to reading a copy of the 'Progress of Truth' some time ago and said that friends of hers whom she suspects also read the book have been disappearing. She believes the Ordinators are responsible and said that if anything ever happened to her, she would leave a message with the code word 'amaya'. She asked that I convey the increasing vulnerability of her position to our friend and I agreed, though I am not sure what he can do.

Finding the book seemed like a daunting task. The Temple has at least one copy, or did, for Mehra and her friends to have read it, but she could offer me no help in figuring out where such a thing would be kept. With my luck it would be in the floating rock. I dismissed any chance of finding the Temple's copy and did the next best thing: I asked a smuggler.

That's not entirely correct, but Jobasha has to be doing some sort of business on the side to be able to afford the rent on his store, which I'm sure is very high. A book store does not seem to me a very lucrative enterprise, but serves well as a front for any number of other businesses whose goods can be concealed within hollowed tomes.

My hunch proved correct, though getting the book from him took some doing. Smugglers and the people who associate with them are instinctively a suspicious lot and Jobasha was no exception. It took five hundred Septims before he was willing to look into his inventory of "special" books which he kept in a locked closet. He had the book and charged me an additional two hundred Septims for it, but I was glad to be rid of the weight of all that coin.

For all the violence and secrecy surrounding the book, I expected more than what it really is: a thick pamphlet from the Dissident Priests detailing their grievances against the Temple. The entire affair probably deserves to be treated more seriously than I am, but that is my friend's job and not mine. My part in this, for now, was over. I teleported back to the Balmora Mages Guild, sold a few gemstones to Ajira and delivered the book and notes to my friend. He thanked me, gave me two hundred Septims and suggested I wander around a bit more, do some more jobs, then come back. Again he suggested I join House Redoran, but I have enough to do right now without taking on more tasks.

It was the middle of the afternoon when I found myself with free time and Ranis's task of collecting the guild "dues" seemed the easiest accomplished. The tardy mage was last seen in a small cavern named Punabi set along the shore of Lake Nabia, which empties via Nabia River into the greater sea. The Dunmer fortress Marandus is strategically built along the lake's shore opposite Punabi and is a tempting target for a quick peek, though I suppose that can wait until I have the Propylon Stone for it.

I had not left myself enough time to reach Punabi before nightfall and came across another smuggler den on the side of the road. At this point it is a waste of time and ink to describe the battle with the three hapless criminals and it will have to suffice with the assurance that they died and I had survived another battle. As usual they did not have much of value: a few scrolls worth keeping and a chunk of raw ebony. 

I am spending the night in their cleanest cot, another violent stop alongside the side of the road in Morrowind. The frequency at which I am killing others is starting to become quite depressing.

Morrowind Day 36 - The Sewers of Vivec

20 Hearthfire
~~~

I left the Balmora Mages Guild early in the morning, intent on completing my friend's task before starting on my own. I had always passed through the Guild, having supplied myself with whatever I had needed at Balmora, or occasionally Caldera. It occurred to me that the Guild in Morrowind's largest city would be the best place to shop, so I visited briefly, talking with the other guild members and inquiring about wares and training. My travels seem to always elicit interest from the Mage Guild members, though I think this is due to most of them never leaving its walls.

Either I was not talking to the right people or the selection at the Vivec Guild is worse than Balmora's. The resident Alchemist, Craetia, did not have the wide range of ingredients I was expecting, nor did she have a large budget to purchase mine. Hints dropped during our small talk suggested that Trebonius, the Arch-Mage of the Guild, keeps the Vivec Guild's purse-strings pretty tight, limiting the Guild's ability to win business from the Telvanni canton's numerous non-guild practitioners.

The closet of my contacts was Huleeya, an Argonian whom I was told would be in the Black Shalk Cornerclub, whether due to habit or instruction, I don't know. The club was located on the the lower level of the canton and I was it was open to anyone wanting a little refreshment. Being the only establishment of its type in the Foreign canton, I expected it would be a busy place. However, the club was nearly empty when I arrived and the mood quite ugly. My contact was instantly recognizable, him being the only Argonian in the place,  but the three Dunmer arguing with him were not known to me.

Seeing me enter, he called me over, treating me as though I was a cherished friend instead of a complete stranger. He scolded me for showing up late without letting him know first, then said he had to finish his conversation with the three "gentlemen" he had just met. The three gentlemen took the opportunity to close ranks in front of us and the owner of the club was taking great strides in not looking in our direction. The three were not heavily armed, but Huleeya whispered to me as we all waited for someone to do something. He revealed that he was an open operative of the Morag Tong, a guild of assassins that operate legally in Morrowind via semi-judicial writs of execution Legal or no, I definitely do not want to be affiliated with a group of assassins, but my present circumstance left me little choice. Quickly, he told me that while he could kill all three of the men with no problem, they were all House Hlaalu retainers and he had no desire to be the reason for any bad blood between his Guild and the House. In addition, killing the men outside of a Morag Tong writ, even in self-defense, is a distasteful act within his organization and he wished to avoid bloodshed if possible.

Avoiding bloodshed was far easier than Huleeya had anticipated. Being House Hlaalu men, they were all willing to let myself and Huleeya leave the club peacefully in exchange for some coin. They got their insults in as we left, never knowing how close to death they had come due to their prejudice.

Huleeya was on good terms with Jobasha and led me to his shop before telling me what he knew of Dagoth Ur and the Nerevarine Cult. He was able to provide a great deal of information, but knew nothing about the mysterious 'Sixth Cult' or why the townspeople I've encountered were acting so strange. He did mention that House Dagoth was the sixth Great House, so it is likely the Sixth Cult is affiliated with the fallen House in some way. Revolutionaries or secret retainers perhaps.

He was most helpful with my questions regarding the cult of the Nerevarine and the beliefs of the Ashlander tribes. According to him, the Ashlanders believe that Lord Nerevarine will return as an incarnation, ending the persecution of the Ashland tribes and driving out the foreigners and 'unclean' Dunmer from their native land. Reincarnation or not, that seems a large order for an individual.

He gave me a sheaf of papers with his notes on them to deliver to my friend and I bade him farewell and luck with the Dunmer, which got me a lopsided grin and a wink. I have a suspicion that the three Dunmer may be disappearing quite soon.

My second contact was a Khajiit named Addhiranirr, the style of the name noting her as being native to Elsweyr, unlike myself. My friend had told me to look within St.Olm's canton, but had no more information than that to provide. But I remembered the skittish Khajiit I had encountered in the sewers, though I did not remember her name. My memory served me well, for when I entered the canton, a very well-dressed Imperial asked me if I had seen her, as "your type seems to stick together". Insulted, I told him I had never heard of her and walked past him. She was still where I had last left her: in a corner of one of the sewer's corridors, opposite the obvious Daedric cultist hideout.

After identifying myself as working for our mutual friend, she sheepishly admitted she was indeed Addhiranirr, but asked if I could do her a favor before she answered my questions. I anticipated this and readily agreed. To my delight, the favor was to get rid of the rude Imperial two floors above us, who was working for the Census and seeking to arrest her for 'misunderstandings'. She did not care much about how I planned on accomplishing this, but my luck had been good so far, so I took a small chance.

I found him still wandering the canton and hailed him, pretending to be very eager to be a good (Khajiit) Imperial citizen, telling him that I heard the thief, the shaver-of-fur (I made that up, quite proud of it), had caught a boat at Ebonheart towards the mainland. He thanked me and told me I was a prime example of the better sort of my people. So rude.

However, Addhiranirr found the short exchange to be very amusing and regretted that she could not be much help. She knew nothing of the Nerevarine Cult or the Ashlanders, claiming that the Nerevarine legend was a "fuzzy tale for little kittens". I am apt to agree, but unlike Huleeya she knew a great deal about the Sixth House, because it impacted her business.

She said that she heard that a lot of the long established smugglers are suddenly working only for the Sixth House and she personally knew two smugglers, both long-time business people of Morrowind, who had accepted Sixth House contracts...then disappeared. After they vanished, she watched their people and confirmed that they were smuggling something, but she could not determine what, nor could she find out where her contacts had gone. Those who were working for the Sixth House and still visible were very quiet about their activities, which was atypical of the smugglers she was working with. She had hid in the canton sewers partially to elude the Imperial agent I misled, but also in an effort to escape the notice of the Sixth House. She said she was concerned for the Imperial Thieves Guild, as she noticed members quietly disappearing as well.

More than that, she could not say. She only knew that the Sixth House was involved in smuggling in a very big way, but did not know what goods they were actually moving. As I thanked her and prepared to go, she mentioned that she had seen a heavily armed guard outside of what used to be a storage area, hinting that if I was to go clean it out, I would be doing her a big favor and netting a fair profit for myself. I told her I would look into it and moved on.

True to her word, the sewer corridor opposite the one Addhiranirr was in was guarded by a Dunmer woman clad in full steel plate. She had not seen or heard me and a plan soon came to mind.

The arrow deflected harmlessly off the side of her armor just as I had planned and she yelled, charging at what she must have thought was a desperate thief or sugar-fiend. I stepped back into the tunnel connecting the corridors of the sewer and waited, spell at the ready.

My timing was perfect. I cast the paralysis spell just as she turned the corner and thanks to the training I undertook, the spell succeeded, freezing her in mid-step, though only for a few seconds...which was all I needed with my stabbing sword. Thanks to my sneakiness, her equipment was undamaged, but steel armor is not very valuable for its weight, so I rolled it and her into the depths of Vivec's waste.

I dealt with the inside of the shrine similarly, though making sure to have several protective spells active before I entered. I thought I would be able to enter the shrine under the guise of my invisibility spell, but the act of opening the door dispelled it. I'm sure I Looked quite foolish, standing there inside the shrine, flat-footed as I two Dunmer unsheathed their blades and charged.

Fortunately, I was able to cast the invisibility spell before they got too closed and I dashed behind their shrine as they assumed a back-to-back stance, warily circling the room together. What happened next was almost comical, had it not meant their deaths, of whom anyone's is not something I find amusing. The pair may have been father and daughter (was the woman outside a wife and mother?), so different was their age. The older Dunmer was wearing bonemold armor and wielding a very rare Daedric sword, while the younger woman had an ugly geometrical Dwemer stabbing sword.

My invisibility spell does not last long and if they both attacked me, I'd be in trouble, so I had to make sure to eliminate one of them while I still held the advantage. I judged the man to be more dangerous and quickly crept into their path, positioning myself so that the man would pass by me. The paralysis spell worked a second time, silently locking the man in place as his partner/daughter continued to pace the shrine alone, unaware that she was no longer accompanied. 

The man must have been furious at the injustice: the Daedric sword had to have been acquired at great risk and to face his end unable to wield it against his enemy had to have been frustrating, to say the least. As always, his death was instant and painless, and I caught the corpse as he collapsed, lying it on the floor as not to alarm the woman, whom was still unaware of her imminent fate.

She continued to circle the shrine, now on the opposite side of the body. I had no time to move it out of the way, so I hid behind a pillar and waited for her. After two invisibility spells and two paralysis spells, I did not have enough energy to cast a third paralysis spell, nor enough time to drink a restoration potion, so I used her moment of shocked realization to spring my trap and struck her twice with my spear before she could respond. The battle was mercifully short, fighting a woman whose father may have been lying dead at her feet did not sit well with me, even if they were cultists.

The Daedric sword was a very valuable and rare find, but too heavy to carry around with me and too valuable to sell. I dumped the bodies into the sewer and stored their weapons in a chest I found in the back of the shrine. 

The chest was in a fairly well-furnished bedroom, complete with armories, two beds, and several chests. The chests contained nothing of much value, save for what I stored inside one of them, but the beds are comfortable and I will be spending the night here. This would not be a bad place to call my own, a little out of the way, but not too much that I could not return here when I desired to. I will give it some thought before going to sleep tonight. Tomorrow I'll talk to my last contact and return the notes to my friend, after which I'll review my plan for acquiring the next Propylon Stone.

Morrowind Day 35 - Training Day, Part Two

19 Hearthfire
~~~

Today was much like the last: no fighting, no stress, just training and relaxation. I had worked on my physical combat abilities with Rithleen yesterday, but I consider myself far more skilled in meele than in magic, so I dedicated today to the Mages Guild, trying to work my meager skill into something with more utility for my life in Morrowind.

Ajira was more than happy to take my money in exchange for an lesson in alchemy; she was kind enough to charge me less than the standard rate, though she did not mention it. Her nose seems to be constantly searching for monetary opportunities, a task which takes her business far outside the Mages Guild at times. Despite this, she is a very effective Alchemist and the expensive alchemy equipment on her desk is well-used and cared for. She admitted that my arrival, an "active adventurer" as she put it, has done a lot her projects both inside and outside the Guild.

She did not volunteer details of what these projects were, but from what she did say I gather that a lot of the alchemy ingredients she purchases from me gets shipped out of Morrowind to parts unknown by parties also unknown, a business which she greatly profits from. It does make me wonder why she remains in the Mages Guild and the Balmora branch in particular, though it is likely Ranis and Ajira share an arrangement, one that sees a little profit in Ranis's pockets as well.

Such is the way of life in Morrrowind. Coming from the heart of the Empire tends to instill a certain rigidity of morals, even when you exist at the edge of discipline, as the Auxiliaries probably still do and I know my own set of morals have become more malleable lately. After all, I did agree to Ranis's request last night, but I plan on doing whatever I can in an effort to not have to kill the persons of interest.

Pleasant though it was, I did not spend much time on my Alchemy training. It is a useful skill, but not one I have had to rely on. Due to the wide differences in geography and fauna, it has been of more use putting a few extra Septims in my pocket than brewing useful potions. One ingredient for a potion may only be found in the northern parts of Morrowind, while the second may be on the other side of the island in the south. The alchemist shopkeepers alleviate the search for common ingredients, but it almost seems a waste of effort when they are also selling the potion you were trying to make in the first place. A true student of the art would never pass on the opportunity to practice her craft, but for me survival takes priority over pride.

After Ajira's chattiness, Marayn's no-nonsense instruction proved a relief. He admitted himself to being more skilled in Destruction and Mysticism schools, but still knew far more than I in the use of Alteration spells. I spent more time than I expected I would with him and when we had finished I was far more confident that my Alteration spells would succeed when I needed them.

Estirdalin was my final teacher, the two of us practicing Illusionary magic together. In contrast with Ajira and Marayn, I was nearly Estirdalin's equal with Illusion magics and the opportunity to practice alongside someone of similar skill was worth the cost and I feel we both improved notably

I left the Mages Guild after dinner and walked across the river to Balmora's south end to visit a friend of mine. A Dunmer stopped me on the bridge, another messenger from Dagoth Ur, or so he claimed. At least they are all sticking to the script and let me walk without any issue. By morning the man will likely not even remember being out here, much to his chagrin.

My friend asked me to do a favor for him: visit a few people in Vivec and ask them for information on the Nerevarine and the Sixth House, a cult my friend believes is connected to the Nerevarine prophecy somehow. He gave me the names of three associates of his and a purse of Septims for my expenses...not that I needed them. He also mentioned I might consider joining House Redoran, but I have a lot on my plate right now, as the Imperials say.

I returned to the Mages Guild, taking a different bridge across the river and bought some healing scrolls from Galbedir. The hunt for the next Propylon stone is going to take me into the east, an area dominated by the Telvanni and I am not sure what services I can expect in that region. I bought everything healing-related that Galbedir had, just in case.

My other tasks are more mundane, though the list is long. Tomorrow I leave Balmora and likely will not be back for some time.