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#Post#: 3319--------------------------------------------------
Re: Memoirs of a Morag Tong Assassin - Volume One: Vvardenfell,
Chapter One
By: McBadgere Date: May 30, 2014, 7:00 am
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Brilliant and strange episode...Loved it hugely...
The pics are a nice addition too...
Loving the story...
Nice one!!...
*Applauds heartily*...
#Post#: 3443--------------------------------------------------
Re: Memoirs of a Morag Tong Assassin - Volume One: Vvardenfell,
Chapter One
By: Black Hand Date: May 30, 2014, 10:53 pm
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Inside the Census Office, some familiarity of Imperial
furnishing and design met my near-overwhelmed senses, and I
calmed just a bit to the sound of quill scratching across
parchment. A wizened Breton sat across from a younger Breton
clerk by the looks of him and his duties.
The older Breton looked over at me and squinted his hooded lids
at me. His pale green eyes reflected in the lamplight and he
stroked his whitened beard, his features became oddly
enthusiastic as he seemed to recognize me.
“Ah yes! We’ve been expecting you!” He grinned at me, as I
remained as expressionless as before, with the exception of one
of my brows raising slighty.
“I am Socucius Ergalla, the Chief Agent of the Imperial Census
and Excise here in the Vvardenfell. You’ll need to be recorded
until you’re officially released, there’s a few ways we can do
this, and the choice….actually, forget what I just said. There’s
only one way to actually do this. Name?” He said while flitting
between paying me attention and preparing a quill with ink and
looking over my papers.
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“Sethyas Velas.” I replied.
“Race?” He said giving me an offhand look.
“Dunmer?!” I said incredulously.
He shrugged at my tone. “You could be an Altmer-Orc mix for all
I know, kids these days have all sorts of strange heritage.
Trade?” He asked.
“Um. Bandit?” I shrugged in turn.
He shot me a dirty look, then quickly realized that I wasn’t
kidding and shook his head. “That’s not a ‘trade’ per se, I am
afraid. What are your skills?” He inquired.
“I can read and write,…make wine, I guess. I do; used to do
farmhand in season and caravan escort in off-season.”
He narrowed his eyes as if deep in thought and then nodded his
head as he scratched something down. “Vagabond it is.” He said
with a finishing swoop, and I rolled my eyes.
“Now then, just need to confirm this…hmm. This is strange, your
birthsign is…The Serpent?” he asked me.
“Yes. Twelfth of Morning Star, Third Era three ninety-nine,
prime aspect of Warrior Guardian.” I replied.
“But, that’s a Ritual month. The Ritual constellation is a
charge of the Mage Guardian Constellation.” Socucius replied.
“I don’t know, that’s just what the Brother’s told me.” I
shrugged.
He shrugged once more and then got to work on finishing my
parchment and I looked around with a mixture of impatience and
disorientation.
A nearby guard came up and started testing different keys in my
bracers until he’d found the right one and took my restraints
off. By this time, Socucius Ergalla had finished my papers and
was letting it set with the ink dry.
I rubbed my wrists as he prattled off his instructions to me.
“When you take your release papers, you’ll take them through the
next door to the courtyard and through the next door is where
you’ll find Sellus Gravius. Imperial fellow in golden Legion
armor, as dry and dour as this table. Can’t miss him. Off with
you now.” He said, pointing at the door to my left with his
quill.
I had questions; more than a few really. Ergalla’s demeanor told
me that he both didn’t know, and didn’t care what they were. I
liked that straightforwardness, not wasting anyone’s time.
I took my leave and the Imperial Legion guard clicked the door
open. I entered and let my eyes adapt to the minimal lighting.
Following Ergalla’s directions I passed through what seemed to
be personnel quarters or somesuch, given the foodstuffs,
silverware, books and other miscellaneous items that idle
soldiers might use to pass the time.
That was when I noticed the dagger sticking out of the table. It
wasn’t much to look at, not even steel: but a slightly rusted
iron that had recently been sharpened by the fresh edges gleam.
Beneath it was pinned a note that said the loser of a bet; a
‘Hrisskar’, was expected to bring it back to it’s current state.
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Pulling the inglorious weapon from its resting place, I made it
my own as I made the note disappear as well. The feel of a
proper weapon in my hand was a comfort almost beyond words.
Along with my distasteful talent of taking life, I also had some
kind of instinct when it came to shortblades. Daggers in
particular.
I had minimal training in swordplay from instruction as a youth
from the Brothers of the Julianos temple, and from simple
observation of how others had fought. But, when I held a dagger,
it was as though my enemies every weak point was revealed to me
in some way. It would not be inaccurate to state that I fought
better with a knife than a sword, armor protects, but it also
hinders and makes one rely on something that of which’s weakness
was usually a fatal spot. Neck, armpit, wrist, groin, knee.
Strike these, and strike true, and the opponent is soon victim.
I am alive now to testify to its truth.
My reminiscing on darker days gave way to my spotting of what
appeared to be a lockpick on the table. Which would be strange
if not for the fact that this was likely a barracks, and the
guards would have all sorts of paraphernalia from the lower
class. Inspecting it confirmed that it was, and small ‘test’ of
a chest yielded me a small prize of twenty five drakes.
Seeing no other points to profit from, I finished the last
instruction and crossed the courtyard to the offices of Sellus
Gravius. Before I entered however, I had a strange feeling that
the barrel next to it might have more in it than rainwater. I
shrugged off the feeling and put my hand forward to open the
door.
The feeling again.
I dismissed it. It came back.
I shook my head as I looked inside, and sure enough, there was a
small engraved ring inside. Not much beyond a mere bauble, it
had the faintest glow of enchantment. Upon closer inspection I
saw that the engraving was actually in Bosmeri script, the Wood
Elves of Valenwood. The enchantment seemed to have a slight
healing effect to it as well. I put it in my pocket and went
ahead into Captain Gravius' office.
Ergalla was right, I couldn't miss him.
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#Post#: 3533--------------------------------------------------
Re: Memoirs of a Morag Tong Assassin - Volume One: Vvardenfell,
Chapter One
By: McBadgere Date: May 31, 2014, 10:09 pm
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What's cool about reading this and Trey's story, is, much like
all the Oblivion opening dungeon crawl stories, you get to see
the same events played out differently by the different
imaginations...
Absolutely loving this...Always have loved yer writing, sir...
Most awesome!!...
[quote]"...Trade?” He asked.
“Um. Bandit?” I shrugged in turn.
[/quote]
:D :D :D ...
Awesome stuff...Love it!!...
Nice one!!...
*Applauds heartily*...
#Post#: 3590--------------------------------------------------
Re: Memoirs of a Morag Tong Assassin - Volume One: Vvardenfell,
Chapter One
By: Black Hand Date: June 1, 2014, 3:00 pm
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His eyes were keen, like a pair of sharp blades. They cut
through me, rapidly looking through every facet of my being and
history that he could find. Just as rapidly he was arriving to
some kind of discernment; not judgment, of me.
He was Imperial Legion through and through, I could tell that
much. I’d killed at least two in their employ, and the Legion
liked to make sure that type of thing was avenged. However,
there was something different about him. Where there should be
primitive instinct for retribution, he’d replaced it with
something else: strategy and straight lines. Whatever had
brought me to this place and odd circumstance, I knew somehow he
was part of it.
“Your papers, please.” He asked me in a cordial and professional
tone. I handed him my release documents, which he took without
breaking his glance at me, only looking at them once they were
fully in hand and continued to speak with me.
"First, let me take your identification papers. Thank you. Word
of your arrival only reached me yesterday. I am Sellus Gravius.
My background is not important. From time to time it is my duty
to welcome certain visitors to Morrowind." He said, clearly
implying that I was a certain visitor.
“I don't know why you're here. Or why you were released from
prison and shipped here. But your authorization comes directly
from Emperor Uriel Septim VII himself. And I don't need to know
any more than that.” He started, and my first set of questions
were immediately answered, but a hundred more came about.
The Emperor knew of my existence and incarceration?
“When you leave this office, you are a free man. According to my
instructions, he personally authorized your release from prison
and your delivery here. It's all very mysterious. But that's the
way the Empire works. Silence. Secrecy. Let not the left hand
know what the right hand is doing." He said making a few careful
gestures.
I opened my mouth as if to say something. The depth of what he
was telling me told me that I was either most certainly having
the strangest and most realistic dream of all time, or that I
was in an incredibly much larger amount of trouble than I could
have ever anticipated.
"This package came with the news of your arrival. You are to
take it to Caius Cosades, in the town of Balmora. Go to the
South Wall Cornerclub, and ask for Caius Cosades -- they'll know
where to find him. Serve him as you would serve the Emperor
himself. I also have a letter for you, and a disbursal to your
name."
He set down a small sack of coins and a folded, sealed missive
with my name written in a careful script on it. My jaw just
simply dropped.
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“Just what is all this? Who are you?!” I exclaimed.
"I am a Knight Errant of the Order of Ebonheart, and an Imperial
emissary attached to the Census and Excise Office here in Seyda
Neen." He explained.
“So you’re in the higher echelons of the Legion, ones that
report directly to the Emperor…is this some kind of new
punishment? Mental torture rather than physical?” I said looking
with disbelief at the letter, and felt the weight of the sack of
coins. They seemed real enough.
“No. This is not a reward for your crimes. You’ve been absolved
of them, whatever they may have been. As of now, wherever you’ve
come from, whatever you’ve done, it doesn’t matter, they never
happened.” He said with a certain gentle forcefulness. I simply
looked back at him.
“Your disbelief now will pale in comparison to how much they
never happened.” He said with his voice becoming lower and
coming in closer to stare me in the eye.
“Take your instructions, take your money, get out of this
office, and move forward with your life. Whatever led you to
this, led you astray. This is a second chance at life, a real
one.” He told me; his resolve, and his compassion never leaving
his tone.
“Take it.”
I nodded in agreement; even if it wasn’t real taking the best
option available was always wisest. I cracked the seal and read
the letter.
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”Sethyas Velas,
You have been given these directions and a package of documents.
Do not show them to anyone. Do not attempt to read the documents
in the package. The package has been sealed, and your tampering
will be discovered and punished.
Follow these directions.
Proceed to the town of Balmora in Vvardenfell District. Report
to a man named Caius Cosades. He will be your superior and
patron; you will follow his orders. His residence is not known,
but ask at the cornerclub called "South Wall". People there will
know where to find Caius Cosades. When you report to Caius
Cosades, deliver the package of documents to him, and wait for
further orders.
Remember. You owe your life and freedom to the Emperor. Serve
him well, and you will be rewarded. Betray him, and you will
suffer the fate of all traitors.
I have the Honor to prepare this at the direction of his Most
Sovereign Majesty the Emperor Uriel Septim,
Glabrio Bellienus
Personal Secretary to the Emperor”
#Post#: 3612--------------------------------------------------
Re: Memoirs of a Morag Tong Assassin - Volume One: Vvardenfell,
Chapter One
By: Colonel Mustard Date: June 1, 2014, 3:51 pm
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I'm going out on a limb and assuming that the note there is your
work, because it's pretty. Very, very pretty.
*Admires the pretty*
Also, I really liked the presentation of Sellus Gravius in this
chapter. He was blunt, professional and to the point, and it
really gave him the air of being a soldier who's very focussed
on his job and nothing else. Considering he only just appeared
for (presumably) this one segment, that's pretty damn
impressive.
Good work, looking forward to more.
#Post#: 3850--------------------------------------------------
Re: Memoirs of a Morag Tong Assassin - Volume One: Vvardenfell,
Chapter One
By: Black Hand Date: June 7, 2014, 9:51 pm
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The door to Gravius’ office shut with a soft thud and click
behind me. I was somewhere between where I had been and where I
was now. Memories of days past now seemed like the dream;
distant and faded. My mind now focused on where I was now, this
alien land and circumstance.
This dilapidated little fishing village that was significant
solely for the Imperial Census and Excise presence, Seyda Neen
did not give me any hope of a way to navigate. The trees and the
wood of the shacks seemed to be equally old and rotting. The
stares of my racial brethren still saw me as an outlander, and
the worn fabric of my prison clothes further made me both stand
out, yet fit right into what I saw as a decaying mass.
The small sack of coin was the only thing that I owned now, and
my fist clenched it tightly. My eyes immediately began looking
for opportunities. Victims, houses, it was all there for the
taking.
That was when Fargoth approached me, a sort of happy-go-lucky
type that I usually associated with fools and cretins. In truth,
he was simply one of the first people to show me kindness in
recent memory. I still regret my later betrayal of him.
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“Are you the one that boat dropped off? Odd to see a boat arrive
at that time of the day. Hope the Imperials treated you okay. I
swear they took my ring." He asked inquisitively, that
immediately put me on guard.
“What concern are my matters to- - did you say a ring?” I asked
automatically, my mind bringing the image of the Bosmeris script
ring, and my thumb and forefinger bringing it closer to my eye
for inspection.
Without missing a beat, he snatched it from me and gave a small
squeal of delight.
"You found it! Thank you, thank you! You are now my favorite
friend. I'll be sure to tell the others, especially my friend
Arrille who runs the tradehouse here!”
My brow furled, and my eyes looked up to the side, as I froze in
my position for a moment. I wasn’t accusing him of being
dishonest, but you didn’t just up and grab things from someone’s
hand. Then again, that was precisely what I did; or had done,
for a living.
“I see. Thank you.” I replied laconically and continued my
survey of my surroundings. Within even this remote location
there was a certain cosmopolitan aspect to it. Aside from the
Legion guards, I saw an Imperial commoner and an Altmer maiden
alongside the Dunmer.
I finally shook my head and decided the best thing in this
situation was a nice stiff drink. Forget the fact that I hadn’t
ate or drank in a day or two; perhaps more, that just meant it
would hit me that much harder.
The proprietor of the local tradehouse, Arrille, was an Altmer
and gave me an inscrutable look as though I were a ware he could
trade. In a split second, he pointed to a set of stairs behind
him and told me that the bar was upstairs. I didn’t argue with
him as I was sure that I looked like I could use a drink as much
as I really needed one.
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The barwench was no wench at all, but rather a Redguard girl
named Rithleen. Her trade was a scout and worked for Arrille in
the off-season tending to the bar and patrons, she said nothing
aside from a compassionate look to me and a smirk of pity as she
poured me some local fare that I found disgusting, but poured it
down anyways as the alcohol was strong enough to be tasted.
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“You look lost, friend.” She spoke finally as I dropped a septim
onto the counter.
“You’ve no idea….” I said trailing off.
“Well, perhaps I can give you some idea of how to get to where
you need to go.” She started and unfolded a map of the Isle of
Vvardenfell.
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“Balmora.” I shrugged, not even certain why I was about to
follow the Emperor’s command, though I suspected largely from a
morbid curiosity as to what exactly this elaborate prank of his
entailed. Pelagius was the first known Mad Emperor, perhaps
Uriel the Seventh finally joined his ranks.
“That’s easy, first major city northwest of here. You’re in
Hlaalu territory, so it’ll be the nice green portion of
Vvardenfell.” She said tracing a pathway with her finger to a
cropping of buildings sketched on the map.
“Hlaalu?” I asked as I took my last sip of the horrible
concoction.
“House Hlaalu. One of the Five Great Houses of the Dunmer, the
one most open to the Empire and open trade. Outlanders like us
do well by them.” She said, folding up the map and handing it to
me. “The map’s yours, no charge.” She said with a slight smile,
and I wondered why everyone was being so darn nice all of a
sudden.
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