50: Plans

As the victorious group of defenders set about cleaning up the carnage, I was pulled aside by Caius and brought into the fort along with Darkasha and Kael. The grounds inside the walls were packed with refugees from Balmora, and we made our way with difficulty to the central keep.

“We were lucky,” Caius said as we passed through the singed and terrified refugees. “The Daedra attacked from the far side of the city, and we were able to get most of the people to safety before the other gates opened around the city. Still, this is a devastating loss. It will take weeks to clean all this up and we still don’t know if the Daedra will return. Come on in.” We stepped into the keep and were met with a series of curt nods and salutes. Caius led us to a back office of the man who was apparently the commanding officer. We stepped in just as he was stepping out, and I noticed that even the commander snapped a salute to Caius. I was impressed; clearly Caius was a man of great power.

“Now, let us start with introductions. I know all of you, though only from reports.” Caius said as he took a seat behind a great desk that was covered in reports, which he moved aside carefully. “Why don’t we start with you, Kael?”

Kael cleared his throat and said “My name is Kael Bluehair. I have been in the Blades for six years now, and was chosen for my strength in combat and devotion to the Emperor. I had been stationed in Leyawiin for several months before receiving the orders to meet up with you two and teleport to Balmora. That was two days ago, and now that we are all here I am curious what our purpose is. Oh, and that reminds me…” He reached up and tugged at his black hair, which came off in his hands. He dropped the wig and shook out his hair, which was a light blue and hung just past his ears.

“You live up to your namesake!” I said, having never seen such a strange color of hair before. Caius looked at me and gestured that it was my turn to introduce myself. “I am Will Syras, former conjurer and now apprentice mage. My time in prison has weakened my talents, but they are returning to me, slowly. I was placed in prison for accidentally opening an Oblivion gate in the middle of Valenwood. I was released from prison by the Emperor himself as he was trying to escape on the night he was killed. I helped break the siege on Kvatch and have closed several Oblivion gates. I assume I was chosen for this assignment because of my background with Daedra and closing the Gates.” I shrugged and sat down. Darkasha stood as I finished.

“I am Darkasha. I am 75 years old. My life is of little interest, but let it be known that I am a vampire and have been for 50 years. I was approached by the Grandmaster many years ago and asked to serve as a trainer for the Blades. I have done my part, and I assume I was chosen for my significant agility and skill. That is all.” Darkasha sat and was silent.

“I am Caius Cosades. I am the regional commanding officer for all Blades in Morrowind. I have had my hands in a little bit of everything that goes on here, and I don’t intend to stop. Now that that is all over with, let’s get down to business. You have all been assembled here because of a little problem we’re having. You see, the Oblivion Crisis is hitting Vvardenfell and hitting hard. Many northern towns have already fallen, and you all saw what happened here at Balmora. The three great houses are in disarray and the temple is still recovering from the Tribunal’s disappearance. Hlaalu has taken a great hit here today, though luckily many of the councilors were in Vivec City. Telvanni has become even more withdrawn than usual and little communication has come out of the east. Redoran has had it worst of all. The Northwest is in shambles after the attacks, and the only city they really have left is Ald’ruhn. Balmora will take time to clean up, but we didn’t lose that many people. It was strange, like the Daedra just wanted to sack the city but weren’t really interested in the people. I have a theory as to what they wanted, and it brings me to the point of this assignment. You see, the Nerevarine is… missing.”

“Missing?” I said, a bit shocked.

“Yes, he was on his yearly pilgrimage to Red Mountain and just didn’t come back. It’s all very hushed up, as our people can’t really take another morale hit, but we think he has been captured by the Daedra, or worse, killed. I want you three to go to Ghostgate and look for any signs of him. It may be he just had a mental breakdown and is hiding in Red Mountain somewhere, which would be the best case scenario. Still, were preparing for the worst, and he had many artifacts that would be bad if they slipped into the enemy’s hands. So, here is the plan. I have arranged for transportation to Ald’ruhn. From there, you will need to make your way to Ghostgate and begin searching for the Nerevarine.”

“How will we know him when we find him?” asked Kael.

“You’ll know him. Believe me, he’s hard to miss. Which is why this whole disappearance is so damn perplexing. It’s just like Vivec’s disappearance. One day he’s blessing people and reading poetry from atop his temple, the next day he’s flat out disappeared.” Caius sighed, “Just get to Ghostgate, hopefully they’ll have some more information. If you are unable to find the Nerevarine, you are to return here as soon as possible and we’ll go to plan B.” He stood and we followed him out into the main chamber of the keep. He handed some papers to a page and took us out into the grounds of the fortress, and then into one of the watchtowers.

He gave us our pick of some of the weapons and armor stocked in the base of the tower. Kael strapped a massive silver sword to his side and a bow to his back, along with a quiver of arrows and a plain-looking shield. Whoever had made that shield had not been out to win any beauty contest, but it looked like it could take any blow that was put to it. Darkasha sniffed at some of the weapons, but dismissed them, before picking out a handful of lockpicks which he examined very closely and, satisfied, placed them in a small pouch at his side. I looked over the selection of armor fretfully. I was not well acquainted with wearing any kind of armor, but I knew that some would be better than none. Finally, I picked up a glove and pauldron of chitin armor and strapped them to my staff-carrying arm. I would not suffer from any loss of dexterity in that arm, nor would the small amount of weight it added to my pack effect me, and the extra protection might come in handy. I looked a bit silly I’m sure, but if it helped me even a little then it was worth it. When we were ready, we moved up onto the walls themselves, where I was a bit shocked to find a commoner Dunmer standing. Normally the walls were for guards only, but I soon found out why this man was here.

“Hello Balen,” said Caius as we approached the man leaning against the battlements. “ready to go?”

“Of course,” Balen said, and then hopped onto the battlements and jumped off! I ran over to see what had happened, and a massive creature rose from the other side of the wall. A silt strider! Balen sat in the “cockpit” of the creature and laughed, before guiding the creature close enough for Kale, Darkasha and I to climb in. Caius saluted and we set off for Ald’Ruhn.

49: Hot Drop

I was twirled and buffeted in the swirling vortex that propelled me viciously towards Vvardenfell. Arcane energies twisted about me, lifting and prodding here and there. Beyond the vortex I had a sense of insurmountable speed, feeling the miles pass away beneath me. The wind was knocked out of me several times, and I nearly passed out as the energies raged around me. The Dark One served as a beacon of sense throughout the ordeal, calmly watching the energies with an air of bemusement. I clung to him both physically and mentally, gripping the staff tight and wrapping my mind around his.

After what seemed to be a half an hour, I felt myself slowing. The twirling settled down and the energies pressed less eagerly. I managed a glimpse at the stone I was still holding, noticing it was the source of the energies that powered my momentum, and I saw it too slowing down, it seemed to glow less heavily and the energies burst from it less rapidly. Finally it stopped, and I felt myself spit out of the void.

I flipped end over end down an ashy slope, rolling and tumbling as inertia carried me out of the void. I slowed and gained my footing, shaking myself off and brushing the ash from my robes and eyes. The other two had come to rest a few yards from me, Darkasha significantly further up the slope, and Kael near the bottom. I was standing in the middle of the hill, and noticed an orange glow coming from the far side of the hill. I climbed up past Darkasha to get a better view. I crested the hill and was met with a view I will not soon forget. Below me stretched a city that I had once visited, long ago. Balmora, council seat of House Hlaalu…

…Lay in ruins. Flames burst from once beautiful buildings. Fire ravaged the city, melting paint and consuming wood. The walls lay crumbled in great sections, and the river had slowed to a trickle. The tall towers that had once served as guard posts lay toppled and broken, resting in piles of other crushed and broken dwellings. The flames roared, but it was distant, as if the utter silence that otherwise blanketed the area had snuffed out the sound of the fires.

“Dear gods…” Kael’s voice whispered from behind me.

“It’s Kvatch all over again,” said the echoing voice of the Dark One. It was the first time I had ever heard something close to sorrow in his voice.

“I hope we’re not too late.” Kael said, and I wondered what we could possibly be in time for. The whole city was in ruins! Nevertheless, he began to slide and climb down to the base of the hill, which was just inside the walls of the city. He began digging around in the rubble there, searching for something. I stumbled down after him, keeping watch for Daedra. There was nothing moving other than the flickering flames. It was getting dark, but the fire provided more than enough light. I shuddered as I realized that there were no bodies anywhere. Where had the Daedra taken them? My mind began to drift back to those sheets of meat that hung in the Daedric citadels in Oblivion, but I forced myself away from such a gruesome idea.

Suddenly, a knocking and banging noise came from one of the still intact residences nearby. The building was remarkably untouched, save for scorch marks and a collapsed roof. The banging increased and became decidedly frantic sounding. I ran over and opened the door. A screaming Dunmer man burst out, his clothes partially on fire. He tried to run past me, but I caught him and threw him to the ground, where I stopped the clothes from further igniting and then began to heal his burns. He gradually began to calm down, but there was not much I could do for his scorched flesh. As I tended to the Dunmer, Darkasha nimbly scaled the side of a nearby building and looked out over the wreckage. His ears were erect, and he listened carefully. I watched him for a moment as my magicka replenished. He jumped down and began charging off in a direction near where we had come from.

“The battle still rages!” He yelled as he passed. I quickly helped the survivor up and told him to follow us but to stay out of the way. He nodded and I jogged after Darkasha. I soon heard Kael’s pounding footsteps as he ran with me and past me. Pain seared up my leg, but I pushed through and towards the battle. We ran over the hill and across a small valley, whereupon I noticed a fort of Imperial construction. It was not burning, and I pushed onwards towards the battle which I was now beginning to hear.

I was winded after the short run, but I saw now the Oblivion Gate that threatened the Fort. Daedra were pouring out of it in great numbers, but there was still a large group of defenders too. Darkasha jumped into the fray and began tearing and slicing apart the Daedra who foolishly came too close. Kael stooped and picked up a two-handed sword from a dead defender, and then began to beat back the accursed invaders. I climbed to the top of a boulder near the battle and began firing spells into the group of Daedra, slowing and blistering the flesh of my enemies with freezing blasts of ice. After a long battle, the fighting slowed and then stopped. No more Daedra came out of the gate, and the last twitching survivors of the Daedra were stomped out. Several priests ran out from the fort and began to tend to the wounded. I helped as much as I could, but my magicka reserves were drained and these priests were much more skilled than I. Kael approached me as I tended to the few nicks and scratches I had received from the battle.

“I have good news and bad news.” He said, dropping the chipped and broken two-handed sword on the ground. “The good news is there isn’t anything else coming out of this gate, the bad news is the party that went into close it is nowhere to be found.”

“Well,” I said, “at least they haven’t found any bodies either.” I sighed. “I suppose we’re going to have to go in and look for them, eh?”

“Perhaps, but I heard who was leading the party, and I have absolute faith in his abilities.” As he said this, I heard a rumble and the Oblivion gate shuddered. Its supports began to crack and crumble in upon the gate, and I saw a small group of people beginning to materialize just outside of it. They popped fully into existence just as the gate shuddered and closed. I breathed a sigh of relief. I wasn’t going back into Oblivion just yet.

I ran up to congratulate the party of guards, and soon found myself shaking hands with their leader. He held the sigil stone under his arm and was wearing beaten and worn Blade armor.

“Good to meet you Will,” he said, grasping my hand firmly. “I heard about that incident in Kvatch. Very nice work.”

“And the same to you.” I said, gesturing at the broken Oblivion gate. “And you are?”

“I am Caius Cosades.”

48: Disguise

After a short search of the city and directions from a passing resident, I found my way to the bar of some lodge or another. It wasn’t particularly busy, but neither was it particularly dirty. It was clean in the strangest sense. The wood of the floors and walls was beginning to give in to the unending dampness that came from living in what was essentially the least moist piece of land in between an ocean, a river and a swamp. Everything had some degree of salt water slime coating it, yet someone had taken a great deal of care in keeping it clean. There wasn’t a single thing out of place, nor a stain on any of the carpets. Considering the fact that this was the most celebrated tavern in the city (according to the resident who had given me directions), the state of the place was impressive.

The Argonian woman behind the bar was straightening and organizing bottles on the wall, and did not notice me. I had no problem with this, as I had no intention of being a customer. I was just looking for a Blade who could lead me in the right direction. I scanned the faces of the people in the tavern, hoping someone would recognize me and call me over. I had no idea who I was looking for, besides a vague sense of what a Blade looks like. Having no luck with the scanning of the patrons, I took a seat at a table in the corner of the room, where I continued my examination of the people in the bar.

One Redguard man caught my attention simply because he was alone. Other than that, he had none of the qualities I was looking for. His shoulders were slumped and scrawny, and the expression he wore on his face as he sipped from a tankard was that of a dimwit. His eyes were glazed and unfocused, but there was some glimmer of intelligence in them. It was his eyes that were out of place with the rest of the image. They were unfocused, but simply because they weren’t interested in what they were looking at. I could tell after a few moments that his eyes were looking elsewhere, but his attention was focused on me. It all made sense. He was a Blade, an expert at blending in and being uninteresting. His shoulders were slumped because years of observation and practice had taught him exactly how to hold them to look like an average person, rather than a soldier. The crumbs and drippings that marred the front of his shirt were intentionally left alone to enhance the illusion. I had found my Blade.

I surreptitiously approached him and placed a few coins on the table in front of him. His eyes snapped up at me and narrowed. “I need some help with some parcels. Want to pay for your dinner?” He downed the last of his ale and shrugged, before standing up and following me out into the street.

After we were outside the tavern, I stopped leading and started following him. He made his way to a shabby little hut in the center of the town. It completed the illusion of him as a peasant. He opened the door of the shack and I stepped inside. As soon as he had closed the door he began interrogating me.

“You are Syras?” he said, stepping away from the door.

“Yes.”

“You made good time. Tell me, how many bars were there on the door of your cell in the Imperial Prison?” My eyebrows raised, but I knew that cell well.

“Thirteen vertical, three horizontal.” I replied almost instantly. He nodded, my test complete.

“Where’s the vampire?”

“Out in the swamp somewhere. He was… hungry.”

“I understand. We’ll have to wait for him before continuing. Make yourself at home. It’s not much, but I understand you won’t be here long.”

“It will be fine I’m sure. What is your name?”

“Kael Bluehair. I’ve been in the Blades for six years now.”

“It shows. You are very well trained. But that is not a Hammerfell name.”

“Indeed, I was raised in Skyrim by Nords. My foster parents found me in a caravan that had been attacked by raiders. I have the blood of a Redguard, but the ferocity of a Nord.”

“You must fit into the Blades very well then.” He smiled and rummaged around in a barrel.

“Hungry?” he said, unwrapping a loaf of bread he had extricated from the barrel.

“Hungry enough.” I said, taking the proffered loaf and breaking it in half.

We sat, munching and talking, waiting for Darkasha to arrive. When he finally did, there was little mincing of words between Kael and him. There was no animosity between them, just a sense of utter professionalism.

“So what is the plan?” I asked, having still been kept in the dark about my assignment.

“We’ll tell you when we have arrived.” Kael said simply. I groaned at the thought of more travel, but Kael pulled three small objects from within his shirt. I didn’t recognize them, but they glowed with magic. “These will teleport us to Vvardenfell. It will probably be quite a jolt considering the distance, but it must be done to make it there in time.” My jaw dropped at the mention of teleportation. It was very difficult magic, and was really only possible on Vvardenfell, but I guess there was some loophole I didn’t know about. I cautiously took hold of the stone he was holding and recognized it as a grand soul gem. Before I could examine it thoroughly, Kael said something and I felt myself pulled across the world…