So in honor of the tenth anniversary of Morrowind, I decided to revisit an old classic and came across some lovely gems in the mod community. The story you are about to read will closely follow the Great House Dagoth mod, which I've come to greatly admire, but with a little twist of my own here and there.
Dream sequences will probably be included in each chapter, as I feel like they will be very important for both of the characters introduced in the first chapter. I intend to at once paint a picture of the First Council and the Nerevarine's journey. We'll see how that goes.
Thank you for taking time out of your night to read my brain crack. Reviews are always appreciated.
The dreams began when he was a child. Alammus Arendu long knew the names Nerevar, Vivec, Sotha Sil and Almalexia before his Dunmer parents ever considered educating him on the history of the Tribunal. Though he was not their biological child, they educated him like a son of Great House Redoran. His childhood consisted of sparing matches with his father and sessions of book learning with his mother who spent a lot of time proving and disproving the dreams Alammus had regarding the Tribunal. He would grow up to become a great warrior, and if his generous parents had taken him to their homeland, he would have been welcomed in their House. Perhaps if they had returned home, he would not have wound up in the situation that landed in in the Imperial Prison.
Imperials remarked to him all the time about how racist and arrogant Dunmer were from Morrowind, but he faced his greatest example of such traits not from a Dunmer, who are known to be just as rude to outlander Dunmer as they are to other races, but from an Imperial. Alammus was accused of murdering the mistress of Marcus Exellus, a well-known tradesman in the city, but it seemed that everyone but the guards knew Marcus had done it himself. He wondered if it was the hand of fate that landed him in this position as he was dragged out of his cell to be taken to Morrowind.
As he stared out of the carriage window, he prayed for the guidance of those who raised him. He never knew the Isle of Vvardenfell, having been raised in the Imperial City, but he knew it was possible he may die there. His transport from the prison was a secretive venture, and he did not know what they meant to do with him upon his arrival. He thought it peculiar that they took him to the land of his forefathers without a single word of warning until they reached the dock.
Even during his transport, the dreams continued. He dreamed often of a beautiful elven woman, sleeping upon a burial table like those his parents described to him. Normally, urns filled with the ashes of ancestors would sit on these tables, but this woman replaced them. Her elegant white dress was stained with blood upon her belly, as if she had been freshly impaled by a thick blade. Her skin appeared to be a light yellow sort of color, like a High elf, but she would turn into a Dunmer when he came closer. Alammus felt a deep sense of grief each time this vision recurred, and each time he would move toward her. He saw her dark hair perched atop her head in a high bun, and beside her an outline of dust marked where a bow had been. He wanted to reach out and touch her, but without fail a man in a golden mask would grab him from behind and fight him away. These were the first visions of the man in the mask.
Alammus had seen the woman's face in his youth. He tried to push her from his mind because of his assurances by his mother that such a woman never existed in the histories of the Tribunal. The three godheads of his mother's religion called her Athera in his dreams. They said she was the wife of Voryn Dagoth, the man who would become the Sharmat, Dagoth Ur. She was a ranger and a tribeswoman before her marriage, and each time he saw them together in his dreams, Alammus felt the familiar sting of jealousy in his heart. Part of him loved this apparition of his dreams before he even grew out of adolescence.
He spent little time in Seyda Neen after arriving on Vvardenfell. The city reminded him too much of the villages outlying the Imperial City, and he wanted to feel like he walked among the people his mother loved to tell stories about when he was a child. His feet guided him swiftly along the path to Balmora as if he had walked the lands already. With his mind set on finding Caius Cosades, he found that much of the landscape passed by him. The cliff racers native to the region surrounding Balmora annoyed him, and he hunted the other wildlife for food and alchemic reagents. He stopped often to remove herbs from the sides of the road, determined to put the one skill his mother had taught him besides reading and writing to use. In the right situation, it could be profitable and he knew that any amount of coin could get him through the rough times that awaited him.
He kept a firm grip on his coin purse as he walked toward Balmora, the stilt strider and the three archways into the city coming into his view. Alammus felt a great deal of curiosity sink into him as he made note of the stonework that went into carving the gateways. He wondered if it was even stone, since at that distance anything could look like rock. Perhaps they had formed a grey clay to wooden posts, and he knew that this would have made his father laugh at him. Alammus was always distracted by the wrong things when he came into a city for the first time.
See the women, he would say, your mother's getting tired of waiting for grandchildren and Almsivi knows you could use a good, Dunmer woman to keep you in check.
"Well father, there will be plenty of good, Dunmer women here," Alammus said aloud.
He passed through the archways and looked to either street that would lead him through Balmora. Either way, he would intend to make a full lap around the city to familiarize himself with his surroundings, but he needed to find Caius Cosades before he could get down to any other business. He did not know where to go exactly, and therefore chose to go into the storefront quarter of the city. Before he even made it around the first building, someone called out to him from behind.
"You look lost. Do you need something?"
Alammus blinked as he turned around and looked toward the stilt strider. A young, Dunmer woman was climbing down the staircase, her chitin helm tucked underneath her arm. Like the woman from his dream, she wore her hair up in a large bun. She seemed friendly enough, and he was sure that this was the woman who had called out to him.
"Uhm, yes actually. I'm looking for Caius Cosades. Do you know where he lives?"
"The Skooma addict? Yeah, he lives in the north east corner of the city, across the river and up the staircase. I can lead you through if you like. Balmora must seem like a strange town at first look," she said.
"I would… like that very much. Thank you."
Alammus approached her as she waited at the base of the staircase, and when he was close enough, she started toward the eastern half of Balmora.
"Town's split into two different sections. The west side has all of the shops and a few inns, but both of them are full of scum. The Nine Plates is full of spineless Hlaalu scoundrels, and the Council Club sees a lot of Cammona Tong activity. The Fighters Guild and Mages Guild are over there too. The eastern side is mostly residential, and there is one corner club. I never go there, though."
"Do you live here?" He asked.
"No, but Balmora is a good place to stop on my way up the Foyada. I like to take a stilt strider from Vivec and walk up the Foyada to get to the Ghostgate-err, you probably don't know much about Vvardenfell, do you? You sound like you're from someplace else."
"I was raised in the Imperial City. My adoptive parents were loyal followers of the Tribunal, so I learned something about the Ghostgate."
They crossed the bridge to the residential half of Balmora, and the woman who lead Alammus along gave a deep hum as she considered what he said.
"I didn't know Dunmer in Cyrodiil still worshipped Almsivi. I thought they would have given into the pressure to worship the Aedra."
"Oh, they received a lot of flak for it from the neighbors, but they stayed true to their heritage," he said.
"That is good to hear. Some say that the Tribunal is losing their power and that Dagoth Ur has almost broken through the Ghostfence. It is disheartening that it is these very rumors that keep me there. Corpus monsters pound on the gate every day, and more and more of them keep appearing," she said.
"Corpus?"
"Some people call it the Divine Disease. It comes from Red Mountain and followers of Dagoth Ur say it is the key to 'shedding our mortal coils'. Needless to say, a lot of those people are never seen again. They are probably the ones that wind up behind the gate."
" You seem to know a lot about it," Alammus said.
"I'm a Buoyant Armiger. We're kind of like the guardians of the Ghostgate," she paused, "Well, there it is, down there at the very end."
She stopped as they finished climbing the final set of stairs to the second tier of homes, and she pointed to the house at the very end of the row. He watched her gestures closely and stared down the lane of smaller homes, making sure to keep his eye on the one she pointed out.
"Thank you, err… Sorry, I didn't catch your name," he said.
"Lethira Indoril, Great House Indoril. If you're ever around the ghostfence, come on by, okay?" she smiled.
"I'll do that. The name's Alammus Arendu of no House in particular."
"Safe travels, Alammus. Vvardenfell can be unforgiving sometimes."
"Don't you put your sin on me, Almalexia! Don't you put your infidelity on me!" a harsh woman's voice called out as his dream grew clear to him.
He found himself on this night seated at a grand round table in what appeared to be the Great Hall of a stone fortress like those he dreamed of often but had never truly seen before. To his right was Almalexia, who looked to him just as the drawings in his mother's prayer books portrayed her. She was tall and golden skinned, her red hair kept up high in her crown. To her right was Vivec, who was much different than what his mother described. He had lengthy dark hair, and he was clad in chitin armor. He seemed uncomfortable, and just looking at him made Alammus' stomach drop. He was sure he would knew why as he turned his gaze to the other side of the table. To the left sat the members of the sorcerer Houses, Voryn Dagoth and his wife, both of them a perfect picture of black hair, golden skin, and red clothing. Beside Athera was Sotha Sil who appeared unnerved as the woman next to him stood to face whatever scrutiny had come about.
Tensions were already high in the room, for he felt this to be a continuation of a dream he had a few short nights ago. Together, they had been discussing the news that Voryn Dagoth had brought with him about the great golem that Kagrenac was building underneathVvardenfell, the great mountain at the center of Resadyn.. He did not remember how such a discussion turned into a personal attack on Athera Dagoth, but it may have stemmed from how often Sotha Sil had been seen in her company since her husband had left for the Dwemer fortress.
"Voryn deserves to know the kind of woman you are. I know all about your affair with Sotha Sil—"
"There was no such affair. Sotha Sil spent his time keeping me company when Voryn and his brothers were away."
"Let him confirm that. I'm sure he may speak for himself," said Almalexia.
The magister of the Tribunal rested his chin in the palm of his hand as he looked at those surrounding the table," Though I value Athera about all other women, I have never put my hands on her. It is as she says. I meant only to spare her from being lonely when the members of her family were away on business for your husband."
" Is that good enough for you? Don't you see that you twist facts into outrageous lies so that no one hears of your own infidelity?"
"Don't you say it, Athera! You know that I am-"
"A lying, cheating, backstabbing whore? Oh yes, I know this very well. I have seen you with Vivec in the very halls Nerevar has shared with you. You slander his good name by lying with his councilor."
"How dare you! How dare you!" Almalexia's outrage boiled over, and the Lady of House Indoril stood to launch herself over the table.
"Stop this! That is enough from both of you!" Vivec stood to grab Almalexia before she could get too close to the Lady Dagoth.
Athera merely stood triumphant, her arms crossed over her chest. Even to Alammus, Almalexia's outrage was proof enough of the sin she tried to project onto Athera, but still he found himself concerned about the obvious rivalry. He thought back to his earlier dreams, trying to find a reason for the discord somewhere. Did it come from the dreams he had of crossing vast expanses of shoreline in the company of Athera, spending nights with her wrapped up together in a single bedroll when they were much younger? Did it come from the many times he had spoken of Athera's council to her? He shook his head. This priestess of Mephala, the tribeswoman who married Voryn Dagoth, had certainly seen her fair share of House born lovers. He did not blame Almalexia for being wary of her and believing her to use her Daedra given beauty to control the men at the table.
"Certainly you don't believe this, Nerevar," Almalexia looked to him.
They called him Nerevar in every dream. He had no control over his actions or his words, but he knew his own feelings to be polluted by how the real person in this moment must feel. Alammus felt nauseated as the man his spirit inhabited began to speak.
"Tell me truly, Vivec. Does Athera speak the truth? Have you been keeping my wife company during my negotiations with Dumac?"
Vivec paused. He looked to Almalexia, whose face was painted with a look of horror. Surely, she saw indecision in his eyes as he looked from his lord to the woman he held still. With a sigh he admitted," Yes. It is true. I am sorry."
Alammus' stomach dropped again, but part of him felt relieved. Knowing the truth would always be better than being left in the dark, wouldn't it? He leaned forward and steadied himself against the table, and when Almalexia reached out to touch him, he shrugged her hand away in an almost violent manner. He did not want to be touched by her. The intense feeling of nausea was enough for him to know that he was utterly disgusted by her.
"May the gods have mercy on you for your infidelity, Almalexia, for you will have none from me. I don't want you to come to my bed anymore. You made your choice."
She stared at Alammus with disbelief, as if she could not comprehend how a man whose wife had turned her back on him could deny that same wife his bed. There would be talk, they both knew. With relations between the Chimer and the Dwemer straining at every little problem that arose in Resadyn, what sort of rumors would stir if people found out that the two leaders of House Indoril had all but broken their marriage?