My evening sleeping on the straw bedroll was not a pleasant one. Inside the dank, dark cell I tossed and turned with horrible images plaguing my mind. Something was churning inside me, a restless, unsympathetic force, trying to make my mind its own. I saw a vision of men walking down a dark hallway coming for me. I heard the resolute footsteps, felt the fear in the pit of my stomach, and heard the click of the lock. The door creaked open, and I awoke.
There were three figures at the door and one was a dark hooded figure with two Imperial Guardsman behind him. For a moment, I thought the Dark Brotherhood had come for me again. The Guards unsheathed their blades as the robed figure approached me.
"Don't make any sudden movement’s prisoner! We won't hesitate to kill you!" came their command.
The robed figure removed his hood, and I saw his face clearly. He was an elder Imperial man clean shaven with a tonsure style haircut. A monk, much like the ones who had raised me and my sister. He came in close to my face and studied me for a moment before finally speaking.
"So....you are the Dark Elf called 'Sethyas Velas'. This facial tattoo of yours, do you know what it means?" he asked matter-of-factly.
He was referring too the tattoo that was on my face, it was mostly in the shape of a Hand and was colored black. I never knew my parents but I knew that they had given it to me upon my birth, along with my name before we were left in a Chapel orphanage.
"No....I always assumed it was a Tribal or Family markings, sir." I said groggily.
The man looked me over once more. "And you do not know your parents either?"
"No." I replied, glancing at the guards and then back at him. not knowing what to make of this situation.
He nodded to himself and walked away without giving me anymore explanation.
For two more days I would wonder what it was all about, than just as suddenly, without explanation, the same man came with some more guards and stood at the open door.
"Sethyas Velas, come with us, you are being transferred." he said
I hesitantly left with them under the cover of night to a Carriage bearing the Imperial Symbols. The door had a large lock on it, with iron bars on the window, clearly a prisoner transport.
As the guards prepared to open the door, I looked at the Robed Man and finally asked.
"Where are they taking me? Am I being executed without a trial?"
He looked me over for a second and replied.
"No. This has nothing to do with your crimes. But, I've already said too much. Go, and may the Nine be with you."
The carriage ride lasted for days, I spent the time in chains opposite an armed guard with a malevolent stare, and a taciturn expression. The constant bumping of the wheels against the dirt road, and the water and food the Guards gave me was minimal. I began to grow ill, and as we arrived somewhere I did not recognize except that it was a port and I saw as many Imperials as I did Dunmer.
I was then taken aboard an Imperial Navy Vessel, another prisoner transport. As I was moved around the ship the guards were deciding amonsgt themselves where to put me. "Put him in the cell with that other Dark Elf, give him some company with his own kind."
Being thrown into the cell, a shirtless Dunmer with a large scar down his right eye, sat in the corner. He gave no greeting, nor expression as I entered, and returned his head to resting between his knees. I sat down opposite to him, and mirrored his posture.
Fever began to break out, and the rocking of the ship did nothing to help me. The force that had been plaguing my dreams now found me an easy victim, as I had not the energy or reserves to fight it any longer. Blackness swallowed me, and I fell into sleep.
They have taken you from the Imperial City's Prison. First by Carriage, and now by boat. To the east,.....to Morrowind. Fear Not, for I am watchful. You..have been chosen....That voice. These images. Alien creatures in a barren landscape. Daedric runes running through my mind so fast I can't recognize them...wait. 'many fall, but one remains.' I can recognize that. Setsuna? Where are you?
Wake up....are you all right? You're Shaking....Wake up....I came too. It was dark.
"Stand up...there you go....you were dreaming....What’s your name?"
"S-Sethyas. Sethyas Velas."
"Well not even last nights storm could wake you. I heard them say we've reached Morrowind, I'm sure they'll let us go."
I hadn't the time to ask him why he was suddenly talking to me, or if he was a deportee.
"Quiet, here comes the Guard!" he whispered.
The guard came towards us and he looked at me sternly demanding that I follow him. He lead to the top deck, and the brightness of the sudden sun nearly blinded me. We had made port in a small village, shacks and buildings of mixed architecture left me in doubt as to where I was exactly. There was a giant insect contrasting with it all, tended to by a Dunmer woman like a rider tends to his horse.
Walking down to the dock planks I was approached by another guard, this one was amiable enough, perhaps he was far enough from home to not give a damn about another prisoner in his wake.
"Ah you're the one from Cyrodiil, follow me up to the Census Office, and we'll finish your release."
I was dumbstruck. I was being released? Why the hell did the Guards bring me hundreds of miles from home to do this? Was this a sick joke of some kind? A new way of dealing with Murderers and Bandits?
Following the guard to the office, and being followed by the Mariner guard, we entered and I was immediately unlocked from my chains. The second guard and handed them to the Mariner. I rubbed my wrists as he departed, and the new guard actually smiled and commented that that must feel better. I nodded, amidst my growing confusion.
Sitting across the room looking at me, an older Breton man sat at a table of parchments and candles. His room a collection of tapestries and coat of arms. He introduced himself as Socucius Ergalla.
"Ah yes, we've been expecting you, You'll have to be recorded before your officially released.." The man reeked of Bureaucrat, and was very good at pretending that he cared what was going on around him.
"Now, I need some background information to properly process you. I see that you were arrested for foul murder, no less. But, thats all in the past now,....Seth-ee-uhs?" he pronounced the name slowly. I nodded.
"I'm an Assassin, Breton. I kill people, it's what I'm good at...even If I don't like it. Put that down as my trade."
Showing no sign of intimidation, the Breton complied with my sarcasm. "Are you able to read? he continued.
"Yes."
"Place of birth?"
"I was raised in the Chapel of Stendarr, Our Father of Mercy orphanage. Cyrodiil Province, Cheydinhal county, the township of Eraf's Bend."
"Your Birthdate?"
"I'm uncertain as to the exact date. I was found on the 22nd of Second Seed 3E 399, born under the sign of the Serpent.
He nodded, scribbling the information down.
"Interesting....Now then, you've been properly processed. Take this to Sellus Gravius in the next building and he'll give your exit fee." He said blowing on the parchment to dry the Ink.
The guard posted to watch over the office took out a set of keys, and unlocked the thick oak door.
"Walk through this room, and take a right at the hallway, you'll see another door; take that through the courtyard, and you'll be in Captain Gravius' office. Get moving."
I nodded my understanding and as I walked through what was the village garrisons mess hall, I saw the hilt of an old rusty dagger rising from the table, pinning a note to the wood.
Hrisskar,
Remember our wager. I want this dagger as sharp as scamps claw by morning.
Ganciele
Well Hrisskar, looks like you dont have to worry about that little wager anymore. I thought to myself slipping the blade into my waistband.
Noticing a pick on the table as well , I took that and realized that i might be in a bit more luck than I had previously thought. I spotted a small chest on a shelf behind me and decided to give it a try. I had certainly made use of picks before and this chest yielded its small treasure to me easily. Rewarded for my philandering was 31 Drakes, to me a large amount of money. Thinking to myself, this would pay at least for my trip back to the mainland. I thought about taking the silver fineries, but it was too much to hide, and too much to risk in this situation.
Making my way into the next building, I noticed a small ring that glowed slightly of enchantment in a barrel and decided to add that to my coffers. Luckily for me it held healing magic, this situation was getting better and better.
"Your papers please." Was the greeting I received from Sellus Gravius. I handed him the parchment and without looking at me he read the information it contained, whilst speaking to me.
"My name is Sellus Gravius, my background is not important, but it is my duty to occasionally welcome visitors to the Vvardenfell District of Morrowind."
He paused for a moment and then looked up at me. His glance was official and intimidating.
"Your release was authorized by Emperor Uriel Septim Himself. I do not know why he has sent you here. But I received word of this by courier only yesterday."
He shrugged as he continued "But that's the way the Empire works, Secrecy, let not the right hand know what the left one is doing. Anyways. I have some duties for you." He pulled out two folded stacks of paper and a small sack that jingled as it hit the table.
"You are to go to the town of Balmora, and find Caius Cosades, ask for him at the South Wall Cornerclub. You will deliver the paper with the Imperial Seal on it. Do not view the contents, do not break the seal. The other paper has your instructions written down in greater detail. You are of course being compensated fro your work as courier. He said motioning to the bag of money, with his same indifferent expression.
"Any questions?" he said.
"Where is, Bal-mora?" I asked genuinely confused.
"North of here, speak with Elone at the the Tradehouse, she's a scout and could give you far more detailed instruction than I." he said motioning to the door.
As I exited he said reminding me, "Your a free Mer now, don't screw this up."
And there I was.
Free.
For whatever reason I was in this backwater land pardoned from my sins and separated from the only one I loved.
And with that a Bosmer approached me, identifying himself as Fargoth.
"Hey there! You're then one they dropped off aren’t you? Odd too see a boat that time of day, I hope the Guard treated you well. I swear they took my ring!"
I thought to myself of the ring and wondered what I should do. but I remembered my Couriers fee had made my journey's expense a great deal easier. And even I knew what the value of bribing a little goodwill could do, especially being a stranger in a strange land.
"THIS ring?" I asked, brandishing it between my finger and thumb.
"Yes!" He said snatching it out of my hand. "Yes! This IS my ring! Thank you,..um.."
"Sethyas Velas"
"Thanks Seth! You don't mind If I call you Seth do you? Of course you don't! Seth, you don’t know what this means to me! I can't pay you.,...which means,....I know! Come with me!" the excited Wood Elf grabbed by the wrist and led me to the Tradehouse, which I was head for anyways.
Busting in through the door, the Bosmer excitedly told what happened to Arrille, the High Elf Proprietor. Arrille was genuinely moved by my honesty it would seem and immediately took a liking to me.
"Well, I'm headed out to Balmora. I just need a few supplies." I said answering his question about what he could do for me.
After some perusing, I bought a fire kit, a skin for some water, and some dried scrib jerky. For weapons, a quiver of iron arrows, a short bow made of a local manufacture called chitin, as well as a cuirass of the same material. Chitin was interesting, it was a made of the carapaces of the silt strider, the giant insect I had seen when first arriving in Seyda Neen, and another insect they called a shalk. Which was basically a large beetle that was infamous for its bite that had a poison that burned.
After spending sixty of the 131 drakes I had, I spent ten more on a mazte, a local drink that was the equivalent of an ale back home, only a bit more potent. I needed time to think how I was going to get back home.
As I drank, a Nord legionnaire sat down at the bar next to me, after staring at me for a moment, I turned to meet his blue eyed visage.
"Can I help you, friend?"
"Aye! Rather, I can help you out friend. Seems that gimp of a Mer, Fargoth has taken a likin' to you. I can be a much better friend than he, Dunmer."
"And how can you do that?" I inquired suspiciously.
"Well. You see, I keep losing to nine-pins to that bastard Ganciele. So I shake down the locals to pay some of those debts. Thing is, I know that Fargoth has been holdin' out on me. He has the money to pay that deserter Processus Vitellus, he has money to spare for me."
"How is this my problem, Nord? I don't have anything to shake down. And I'm on official business for your Emperor. Lets see how your superiors take that."
"Hahahaha!" he bellowed out, his drunken Nord breath wafting across my face, to which I winced. "Aye,I know, I know. The garrison here ain't stupid, word gets around, 'specially when a prisoner gets released with an 'official' courier preceding him by a day or two. What I was thinkin' lad, was that since Fargoth suddenly thinks the world of you, he won't notice you followin' him around the town to find his hiding spot."
I thought it over. "So you want me to steal his gold and give it to you?"
"Aye. In exchange for a little finders fee."
"I'll do it."
"That's the spirit, lad. I know he won't try nothin' durin' the day when I'm around. Keep an eye on him at night after I pass out, if you want a good visage of Seyda Neen, I suggest you climb 'a top 'o the lighthouse, see the Smugglers Coast for miles in all directions." he said with a pat on my shoulder, taking his leave.
Well, I still had the rest of the day to kill. It wasn't even past midday. So I struck up a conversation with Elone, the scout who had taken residence here, at Gravius' suggestion.
"Where you headed, outlander?" she said with a smile.
"Outlander? We may both be dark of skin Ra Gada, but I fit in here a little more than you."
She laughed. "With that accent, you're as much an outlander as me. In fact the local Dunmer hate outland Dunmer even more than the colonists."
I raised my eyebrows. "Good to know. I was headed north to Balmora."
"Hmm. Well, if you're headed out on foot, let me write some directions down for you." she said taking a parchment and ink. "You can read, right?"
"Fine upstanding Imperial citizen like myself? Of course."
"You're also pretty educated, where in Cyrodiil are you from?"
"All over, really. I was raised by monks in the Stendarr orphanage. Copied manuscripts, farmed a bit, helped them make wine. Even had a couple of the monks teach me the art of Rain on Sand."
"Interesting. I'm sure you made good use of your skills to end up here."
I smirked. "Also, I have this old map of the island if you want. I've been from Dagon Fel, to Bal Fel, Balmora, to Sadrith Mora. It's all on there." She said making a cross pattern on the map.
"Appreciate it." I said accepting the written directions and the map.
"One last thing, out of curiosity, who's Processus Vitellus? What made him desert his post?"
"His post? Processus is the local tax man, not a guard. He went missing around two days ago. No big surprise really. No one likes a tax collector."
I took my leave of the tradehouse, and began to wander around town. Taking in the sights of this new land. Morrowind, my ancestral land that I had heard little more than vicious rumors in Chapels about. A land of terrible beasts, daedra worshiping heathen Dunmer.
The only terrible beast I saw so far was a local species of mubcrab resting on the sandbank opposite Arrille's. Taking the opportunity to examine the Vvardenfellian version of the creature, I was soon running away after the sharp pincers bit my ankle. They were quite aggressive, and although slower than me, it still backed off into a corner on a northern bank deeper into the swampland.
Backing up, I finally attacked the creature with a well placed shot into the face, killing the it instantly. Ripping my arrow from the carcass, I saw that the shaft had developed a hairline fracture from the impact with the mudcrabs hard shell. Disposing the arrow, I saw it land at the feet of a body laying on that bank.
I wasn't necessarily shocked to see a corpse, I had made a few of my own in this same fashion. The bruises around the neck indicated he was strangled to death. He was a middle aged Imperial, and he still had his pouch of gold on him. As well as a document with several names and amounts on them, with the seal and signature of Socucius Ergalla.
I surmised that this was the body of Processus Vitellus, and that he had died during a robbery attempt. What didnt make sense, was that the money was left behind. Even if the assailant were caught and ran off, someone would have reported this or taken the gold themselves. More likely that Processus was a victim of a murder. Better to report this and return the gold, than have the stigma of a local murder, being blamed on a released murderer.
"You found his body, and this list and the gold were still on it? How odd that he was killed and not robbed."
"My thoughts exactly."
"Ganciele, dispatch a guard to that location. Confirm Velas' story. If the corpse is fresh, you're taking the blame for this, Dunmer."
Twenty minutes later Ganciele returned confirming everything I had said. "The body's been dead at least two days, this one was still on his way in chains here."
Ergalla nodded, his face solemn. "I'm sorry I suspected you in the matter."
I didnt blame him at all actually, but I said nothing.
"I'll tell you what. You did more for that man than anyone else in this backwater dump would have, I'll give you the opportunity to collect on the bounty. You have a taste for blood, Dunmer? Hunt down his murderer, and execute him. The bounty is 500 drakes. I don't want these damned locals thinking we're going to let an injustice like this stand."
I didn't really care about avenging the death of a man I didn't know. But the sound of bounty did strike a chord. I was going to get paid to do what ended me up in here in the first place. And it would all be legal.
I turned to Fargoth as my local contact. I hadn't found his hiding hole, and there was no reason for him to suspect anything yet. He pointed me in the direction of Thavere Vedrano, the caretaker of the Lighthouse. The two of them were known to associate. A lovers quarrel perhaps?
She was genuinely taken aback at the news of Processus' death. She told me the last time she had seen him, he was arguing with Foryn Gilnith, a fisherman here in Seyda Neen. Apparently they had been arguing over the amount that Gilnith owed, and how much he had really been making off of his fishing. Indeed, consulting Vitellus tax list indicated that he did in fact owe the most amount of money.
She also had a special request of me. The ring that she gave him, it was an expensive bauble that she would like returned to her to remember him by. I remembered the rumor about town was something along the lines that no one like the tax man who flaunted the towns gold with expensive jewelery. Interesting twist. So Processus' reputation was all wrong. He wasn't a corrupt individual, he was enamored with the lighthouse keeper. She wasn't all that bad looking either, now that I think about it.
I knocked on the shack door of Gilnith's shack. His red eyes squinted when he opened the door, and than slanted into a gaze of hostility, I let myself in anyways.
"You know that Processus Vitellus' body was just discovered."
"Yeah. I know. He was murdered."
"How do you know that."
"I'm the one who did him in outlander. He was always showing off, wearing that damn ring of his! Trying to get with a good woman like Thavere. She's local stock! Off limits to you outlanders! So I strangled the life out of him, and left his body out there for the mubcrabs to eat!"
"You know what? I don't care." I said as unsheathed my dagger.
The strong arm of the fisherman connected with a solid blow to my chin. "I got no problem spilling more blood of the Emperor's Lackeys!" he screamed in rage.
Stepping back, we circled each other. Both with a murderous glint in our eye. He kept trying to connect another blow, I kept dodging and blocking. I guess those Monks did know something.
Finally he swung with a left, and I grabbed his wrist twisting my body to twist his arm. Putting pressure on the joint, I reached around with my dagger, and opened his throat. He fell to the dirt floor, blood pooling, and the final gasps of his life exhaling in disbelief.
"It's done." I said, telling Ergalla the whole story, leaving out the tidbit where I took Processus' Ring for myself. he nodded and dispatched Ganciele once more to investigate the scene. Upon his return, a bit paler then when he first left, he confirmed my story once more.
Ergalla slid a bag full of drakes to me. Easily 500 gold. A mans life was ended to make mine a little easier. I never really get over a kill, and I certainly don't enjoy it. In spite of what you think of me. Justice has always been the rich and powerful ruling over the poor and weak.
I returned to the lighthouse, and gave the ring to Thavere. She was overjoyed at its return, and equally as sad at her lovers departing. In gratitude she gave me a couple of healing potions.
"Hmm. Thavere, it's getting late, and I was wondering if I could watch the sunset on the Lighthouse roof?"
"Of course! Sometimes thats all there is to do around here. I'm sorry, I would join you, but I need to grieve for Processus."
"Thats fine. I think I need some time to myself after all thats just happened as well."
The journey was a travel through swamps meeting large mountain ranges that Elone's map called the Ascadian Isles, just south of the West Gash. The difference in environment was nearly breathtaking. I am not a naturalist, but even I could appreciate the difference between the oppressive nature of the Smugglers Coast, and the uplifting green scenery of the Isles.
While I sat eating my bread and camlorn cheese, with my bare feet soaking in the water. I realized that in the rocks at the base of the rising hill, there was a door of crude construct not unlike that of Addamsartus. Another smugglers den. Realizing how profitable my last venture was, the corners of mouth went up slightly.
But perhaps I get to far ahead of myself. Pelagiad was a pleasant surprise. While Seyda Neen had been little more than a poor fishing village, with a mixture of native and Imperial housing, Pelagiad was a prosperous fort town, taking its name from the fort.
