Chapter 7: Indecent Exposure
I took the Guild guide to Caldera the next morning. Like Pelagiad, it was a newly-chartered settlement built in the Imperial style. The town was set in a region called the West Gash, which was somewhere between Ald'ruhn and the southern regions in terms of landscape: not as dry and dusty as the Ashlands, but not as green and leafy as the Ascadian Isles.
As I was walking out to the mines, something very strange occurred. I spotted a figure up ahead, by a crossroads, who looked for all the world like he wasn't wearing any clothes. As I drew closer I realised that the figure was a male Nord, and that he was, indeed, stark naked.
Now, I'd met a few Nords in my time whom I wouldn't have minded seeing naked. In fact, there were one or two whom I had seen naked, and been very happy about it (just don't tell my parents). This guy was not one of them. He was middle-aged, hairy, and possessed of numerous colourful tattoos which did not enhance his beauty.
He called out to me as I approached, not seeming at all embarrassed. "Hail and well met, stranger! As ye can plainly see, I require some assistance, if ye be kind enough to grant it."
From his heavy accent and dialect I guessed him to be a native of Skyrim, rather than Cyrodiil or some other part of the Empire. "Here, take this," I murmured, handing him one of my spare shirts from my pack while trying not to look at his groin area. "No, don't try to wear it – it's much too small. Just … wrap it around yourself or something."
"Thank ye," he said agreeably, tying the shirt around his mid-section. I wouldn't be asking for that one back. "Now, I need help finding the festering witch who has robbed me blind and left me for dead."
"A witch?"
He nodded. "A witch she had to be. I was on my way to Caldera when I met her. She was a stranger here like myself, and she was quite friendly, and, well, y'know, we set up camp together."
"Yes, I get the idea…"
"But that night," he went on, "she revealed the witch inside. Cast a spell on me. I couldn't so much as blink! Stole everything, even me worn out clothes, but most importantly, she took my prized axe Cloudcleaver!" He clapped a meaty hand on my shoulder. "Join with me, stranger! And let's find her and extract her entrails together!"
I looked at him in exasperation. "But I'm here on a job! Oh, all right," I sighed reluctantly, seeing the anguished look on his face. "But you'll have to wait until I finish my mission for the Fighters' Guild."
He nodded enthusiastically. "I knew you had the bloodlust in you, stranger! Just… try to hurry up, will ye? It's a bit chilly today."
I eventually found the Telvanni agents holed up in a cave not far from the mines. Not being trained fighters, they didn't pose much of a challenge, and the fight was nasty but short. No doubt the Thieves' Guild would be pissed off with me if they found out what had happened, but if they were hiring themselves out to the Telvanni as saboteurs, they had only themselves to blame.
Afterwards I rejoined my Nord friend, whose name turned out to be Hlormar. "Onward, friend!" he cried. "We must find this witch before she moves again. I can feel Cloudcleaver calling out to me to rescue it from the clutches of evil!"
We set off down a path leading north-west, which was the way Hlormar thought the witch had gone. After walking for some time, I spotted a robed woman off in the distance. Hlormar let out a roar. "That's her! That's the witch!"
We ran off in pursuit of the woman, who turned and stared at the sound of Hlormar's angry voice. "Oh. It's you."
"Excuse me!" I panted, somewhat out of breath. "My friend Hlormar here claims that you stole his axe."
She let out a bark of laughter. "Ha! A right funny story that one is! Tell me, did he inform you that his name is actually 'Hlormar Wine-Sot'?"
"Oh?"
"The true story," she explained, "is that I took Hlormar on as a travelling companion for protection. Along the way he was getting entirely too friendly for his own good, so I had to cast a sleep spell on him. Just to teach him a lesson in manners, I stripped him and left him by the road." Her lips curled slightly. "And to be sure he didn't come after me for retribution, I took that Cloudcleaver he's always fawning over as well."
This drew a cry of rage from Hlormar. "Lying witch! Are you going to help me, friend, or are you believing the lies spilling out of that witch's face?"
I looked from one to the other, and threw up my hands in despair. "Sort it out for yourselves! I'm not getting involved." I walked off, leaving them yelling at each other. Sheesh!
Since I was already part-way there, I decided to walk the rest of the way to Ald'ruhn. Unfortunately I had rather misjudged the distance, and it ended up taking a lot longer than I had expected. If I hadn't had the sense to bring food and water with me, I don't know what kind of state I'd have been in by the time I reached the city.
Coming into the Ashlands region, I rounded a corner and stopped short, struck by a powerful sense of what the Bretons call déjà vu. There in the middle of the road, a short way ahead, stood yet another axe-wielding Nord man – tall, hefty, bearded, and completely naked. Actually, I tell a lie: this one wasn't completely naked. He wore leather boots, gauntlets, and some kind of fur helmet.
I blinked a couple of times, wondering whether I really was going mad. Had I been starved of male companionship for so long that I was starting to hallucinate naked men everywhere I went? If so, you'd have thought they'd be a little more attractive.
As I walked up to the man, I could see that he was looking extremely angry. "You!" he roared. "You will speak with me now, or you shall feel the bite of my axe!"
I raised my eyebrows. "Yeah, OK. You might want to put some clothes on first."
"Grrrrrrr." The Nord ground his teeth. "When this enchantment wears off, Hisin Deep-Raed will shed some blood!"
"Enchantment?" I clasped my hand to my forehead. "Don't tell me. You ran into a witch, right?"
"That I did," he admitted, calming down slightly. "That foul witch has given me some enchanted disease, leaving me rooted to this spot! She called it Witchwither."
I couldn't suppress a choke of laughter. "Well, with a name like that, I guess it could have been worse…"
"Foul temptress!" he snarled. For a moment I thought he was addressing me; then I realised he meant the witch. "I had been her escort; she was a big woman, friendly... you know. Then the damned witch ensorcelled me – leaving me at this spot, nearly naked, to display my shame to the world!"
"Okay, calm down," I said, fighting a powerful urge to giggle. "Let's see what we can do about this. You say she gave you some kind of disease?"
He nodded. "Well, I'm not much of a spellcaster," I went on, "but I might have a Cure Disease potion here somewhere. Just let me take a look." I managed to resist the temptation to ask him exactly how he had contracted the disease; that would have been a little too cruel.
Hisin looked gratified, and a little surprised. "You have honour, stranger," he acknowledged. "I am a man of standing among my people. My father and my father's father, and his father before him, have had songs sung of their deeds, and I shall be no different! Treat me fairly, and I will reward you."
Once again I found myself struggling not to giggle. "Well… let's hope this particular deed doesn't end up in the songbooks, hmm?"
I managed to find a Cure Common Disease potion in my pack; it was one of the ones I'd purchased from Aurane Frernis in Vivec. I had to hold it to Hisin's lips for him to drink, as he was completely unable to move. As he gulped it down, I saw the rigid muscles in his arms and chest relax slightly.
"Yes, yes!" he cried. "I'm free of this enchantment! Hisin Deep-Raed calls you friend, er…"
"Ada."
He removed the fur helmet from his head. "Take this, my family's helm, Icecap. It was worn by my father, and his father, and his father before – "
"Yes, I get the picture," I interrupted hastily. The helmet stank of sweat and unwashed barbarian, but I could see the faint glow that indicated an enchantment. "Is that a Resist Frost enchantment on it?"
He nodded. "It will protect you from the coldest of nights. Wear it with honour. And now, I must go kill that witch!"
I caught him by the arm as he was about to run off. "Um, Hisin?" I held out another of my shirts to him. "Perhaps you'd like to, er, cover yourself a bit first?"
Hisin's face turned several shades redder. He snatched the shirt from me without a word and tied it round himself, before stomping off down the southern path. "Filthy witch!" I heard him growl to himself. "I'll feed her entrails to the nix-hounds!"
I walked on, shaking my head. Akatosh, what was it with all these Nord barbarians getting seduced and robbed by witches? I'd have to hope I would get to Ald'ruhn before I ran into any more of them, not least because I was starting to run out of shirts.
To my immense relief, I didn't come across any more naked Nords (or anyone else) on my journey to Ald'ruhn. It was late afternoon when I finally arrived, and the sun was still high in the sky. I had to admit that the place didn't look quite as bad in bright sunlight, but there was still a thick coating of ash over the parched ground. Dunmer children jumped around in the dust and threw handfuls at each other, while older residents stood outside their doors, sweeping it into neat little piles.
Before going to Skar, I decided to pay a visit to the Ald'ruhn Fighters' Guild to repair my weapons and armour. In the lower hall I was greeted by an intelligent-looking Imperial, probably in his early fifties, who introduced himself as Percius Mercius.
"I used to be the Master of the Fighters Guild," he told me. "But I took the opportunity to retire here in Ald'ruhn. The current Guildmaster is Sjoring Hard-Heart, over in Vivec."
Ald'ruhn certainly wasn't the place I'd have chosen to retire to, but each to his own, I guess. When I explained that I was a member of the Balmora guild, Percius raised his eyebrows. "Working for Eydis, are you? Well, if you need any advice on orders you've been given – anything that seems out of the ordinary to you – let me know. I'm more than willing to help out."
My mind flashed back to the Caldera mine mission and Sottilde's codebook. "Okay, thanks. I will."
"Things have really gone bad since I was the Master of the Guild," he said with a sigh. "Sure, Sjoring's a good fighter, no one disputes that. But I've heard – " He stopped suddenly.
"What have you heard?"
Percius shook his head. "I've said too much already. Maybe when you've proven yourself we can talk again."
I got the distinct feeling that whatever he had to say, I wasn't going to like it. Gods, I hate Guild politics.
It was getting a little late to be heading over to the clothier's store, and I didn't want to arouse any suspicions, so I stayed the night in the Guild building. Sleeping there for the first time was a rather strange experience, as – like most buildings in Ald'ruhn – it was mostly built underground. I kept worrying that I'd run out of air and suffocate, until I remembered that I'd slept in caves plenty of times with no ill effects.
The next morning I hurried over to Skar, anxious to get my mission over with as soon as possible. Was it my imagination, or did the patrolling guards look even less friendly than they had on my previous visit? It had to be the former, but that did little to reduce my paranoia.
My fears turned out to be groundless, as the meeting with Bivale Teneran went very smoothly. She was alone when I entered her shop, so I simply handed over the scroll to her. "Yes, as I expected," she said, after a quick glance at it. "Tell Nileno Dorvayn that I received the scroll and understood the message. Oh, and why not take this outfit?"
She handed me an exquisitely-tailored shirt and pants. I stared at them in amazement, scarcely able to believe that she would just give away these lovely clothes. "For… for me? Really?"
"Of course," she said, smiling. "A present for my efficient courier."
"Wow. That's… really kind of you," I stammered. "Thanks ever so much."
As I was walking back to the bridge after leaving the store, I saw a Redguard woman walking in the other direction. It was Neminda, the Redoran retainer whose orders I'd intercepted during my first Hlaalu assignment. There was no way for me to avoid her, and I very nearly panicked – until I realised that there was no possible way for her to recognise me or guess what I'd been doing here.
"Greetings, stranger," she said with a friendly nod. "Nice to see another human in Ald'ruhn. Are you new here?"
I nodded. "Just arrived in Morrowind a week ago."
For a moment I was afraid that she would recognise my voice, but if she did, there was no sign of it. She simply held out a hand in greeting. "I'm Neminda, a drillmaster for House Redoran."
"Ada Ventura, of Imperial City." I tried to think of something else to say, but my mind had gone blank. "So, uh… you're a Redoran?"
"That's right," she said with a smile. "We are true and noble warriors, the hereditary defenders of Morrowind. Were you thinking of joining the House? You look like a fighter."
"I can't," I said, with genuine regret. "I've already joined House Hlaalu, I'm afraid." I was beginning to wish I'd taken the time to do some research into the Great Houses, rather than blithely signing up with Hlaalu the moment I arrived in Balmora. From what I heard of Redoran, it sounded like it might have suited me rather better, but it was too late now.
Neminda arched her eyebrows, and while she refrained from commenting, I could see that I'd sunk a couple of notches in her estimation. "I see," she said, in a voice that was still polite, but a little less friendly. "Well, no matter. Enjoy your stay in Ald'ruhn, sera."
She went on her way, and I hurried back to the Mages' Guild, relieved that I seemed to have got away with my little impersonation. Even so, I had no intention of staying any more nights in Ald'ruhn – no doubt Neminda was aware of the trick played on her by now, and you never knew when she might suddenly make the connection.
When I got back to Nileno Dorvayn, I found her looking somewhat harassed. "Ah, Ada!" she exclaimed. "Have you delivered the scroll? Good. I'm promoting you to Retainer, effective immediately."
"Oh. Thanks," I said, a little surprised by her abrupt manner. "Is something the matter, Nileno?"
She let out an exasperated sigh, massaging her temples with her fingers. "A Hlaalu noble has just been murdered."
"Murdered!"
She nodded. "Ralen Hlaalo was a noble who lived here in Balmora. Here, take this key and go to Hlaalo manor." Her expression was grim. "When you find out who murdered Ser Ralen, kill them. Make sure no ever dares raise their hand against a Hlaalu noble again!"
Thus I found myself playing detective for the second time in little more than a week. I wasn't complaining, though; it made a nice change from spying, looting ancestral tombs, and other assorted skulduggery.
Ralen's body was still lying on the floor of Hlaalo manor when I entered; he must have been killed only hours earlier. Needless to say, the place was a mess. A pool of congealed, sticky blood surrounded poor Ralen – who, from the look of him, appeared to have been attacked with an axe or something similar. He lay on his back, his white face gazing up at the ceiling with blank, sightless eyes.
I couldn't see anyone else around, though overturned furniture and smashed crockery suggested that some kind of fight had taken place. Surely there had to be witnesses? I found it hard to believe that a struggle like that could have taken place without anyone seeing or hearing anything.
I bent over the young man's body, searching for clues, and looked up to see a middle-aged Dunmer woman watching me from the foot of the stairs. When I straightened up, she gripped her skirts nervously and retreated a couple of steps. "It's OK," I told her. "I'm a member of your House, here to investigate the murder."
After a brief hesitation, she nodded and beckoned me closer. "It's just terrible," she whispered. "Ralen Hlaalo employed me for years. What will I do now?"
"Could you give me a description of the murderer?"
She nodded, her eyes darting nervously around the room as if she feared that someone might hear us. "I saw him with my own eyes. He was a young Dunmer with red hair in a tall row over his head, as is fashionable these days. He wore bonemold armour and wielded a Dwemer War Axe."
"Any idea who he was?"
Another brief pause. "No, I do not know more than that. I am sorry."
The slight hesitation, combined with her reluctance to meet my gaze, was enough to tell me that she was lying. Clearly she did have at least an idea who the murderer was, but was too afraid to tell me. Given that she'd just seen her employer hacked to death with an axe, I couldn't entirely blame her.
"I'll find the guy," I promised. "Don't worry."
She gulped and nodded. "I wish you luck."
I spent the next hour or so asking around town to see if anyone recognised the description, but it was hopeless. I saw clear signs of recognition in the faces of several of the Dunmer I spoke to, but when I pressed them for information, they all insisted that they didn't know anyone who looked like that. Finally, in despair, I went to the Fighters' Guild in hopes that someone there might be willing to talk.
After collecting my pay from Eydis, and picking up my next orders – some sort of debt-collection job in a town called Suran – I asked various Guild members whether they knew any red-haired Dunmer men. I wasn't too hopeful, but rather to my surprise, an Imperial woman named Flaenia seemed to recognise the description. "Hmm," she said thoughtfully. "That sounds like Thanelen Velas over at the Council Club."
The Council Club! Well, that certainly explained why everyone had been so reluctant to identify the guy – he was Camonna Tong, of course. I should have guessed.
After turning it over in my mind for a while, I decided to enter the Council Club, but with extreme caution. I was well aware that one false move could leave me with an axe embedded in my own skull. As luck would have it, the first person I met there precisely matched the murderer's description, and was alone. He was sitting on a small table, staring absently into the distance while chewing on some kind of leaf.
I waved a hand in front of his face. "Excuse me. Are you Thanelan Velas?"
The man folded his arms and looked me over for several seconds, his expression clearly showing that he wasn't impressed. Finally he said, "What's it to you?"
"I represent House Hlaalu," I told him. "A Hlaalu noble was murdered last night, and you fit the murderer's description."
Rather than getting angry or defensive, the man just shrugged, a bored look on his face. "You are mistaken. It was Nine-Toes who killed him."
Hang on, 'Nine-Toes'? Apart from the fact that that was clearly an Argonian name, I was pretty sure he was one of the Blades trainers that Caius had recommended to me.
"So Nine-Toes is a red-haired Dunmer, is he?" I asked. "Because the witness I spoke to was pretty clear about that part."
"And who was the witness?"
"I'm not telling you," I said. "All you need to know is that they saw you leaving the house after the murder."
Thanelan was too smart to fall for this, however. "Well, they cannot have seen me, because I was not there."
"Why did you kill him, Thanelan?" I said quietly. "Was it over money? A woman?"
A brief flash of rage in Thanelan's eyes told me that I had hit very close to home; however, he wasn't about to give up so easily. He slid off the table and stood up, looking me directly in the face.
"I did not kill him, outlander," he said, slowly and clearly, as if talking to a child. "It was the Argonian, Nine-Toes."
We faced off for several seconds, doing our best to outstare each other. I was almost sure that he was the killer, but what could I do? I had no proof. If I attacked him on the spot, I'd be arrested for murder myself – not to mention that he probably had friends down below who'd come running at the first sign of trouble.
"All right," I said at last. "I'll carry on gathering evidence. Don't go anywhere in the meantime, will you?"
His only answer was a snort. As I turned to leave, gripping the hilt of my sword, I heard him mutter, "N'wah".
Gritting my teeth, I went back to Nileno, who was busy with some kind of paperwork. I got the impression that the Hlaalu councillors often left her to handle tasks they should really be doing themselves. "Yes, what is it?" she said irritably. "Have you found the murderer yet?"
"Yes, I think so," I said. "He's a Camonna Tong member named Thanelan Velas."
"And is he dead?"
"No."
"Well, why not?"
"He's Camonna Tong," I hissed. "What am I supposed to do, wipe out the entire Council Club? Besides, I don't have any actual proof."
Nileno flung down her quill in exasperation. "Then find some proof," she growled. "Or find another way to kill him. Or bribe a guard. But whatever you do, Ada, I want Ralen's murder avenged. Do I make myself clear?"
It was on the tip of my tongue to ask her why the hell she didn't just kill him herself if she thought it was that easy. Somehow, sanity prevailed and I forced myself to remain calm. "All right, I'll try," I said grudgingly. "But it may take a while."
She shrugged and went back to her paperwork. I left the hall, barely resisting the urge to slam the door behind me.
Since I couldn't immediately think of a way to deal with Thanelan, I instead went to Vivec to look for a bank. By now I had far too much money to simply carry around with me, and my current solution – keeping it locked in a chest in the Fighter's Guild – was not a particularly good one. After finding a place to deposit my gold, I visited an enchanter in the Foreign Quarter to pick up more spell scrolls, and was just preparing to leave when I heard a loud commotion outside.
"What's that?" I asked. "Why all the shouting?"
Miun-Gei, the Argonian enchanter, scowled darkly. "That annoying fool! Did you not see him as you entered? It is that Marcel Maurard. Outside my shop he stands all day, selling ridiculous wares." He sighed. "Get rid of him I would like to, but the law says he is within his rights. Perhaps you might find a way?"
I considered this for a minute. The silt strider to Suran didn't leave until evening, so I didn't exactly have a whole lot else to do right now. "I suppose I could try."
He nodded enthusiastically. "Make him go away, and I will have rewards for you!"
I went outside, where Marcel Maurard – a handsome but rather effeminate-looking Breton – was hawking his wares to largely uninterested passers-by. "Excuse me," I said. "Would you mind doing that somewhere else? You're scaring people away from Miun-Gei's shop."
"Leave here? I could not! It is the finest spot in all Vivec from which to sell my wares. Otherwise, I'd have nothing upon which to support myself." He heaved a melodramatic sigh. "A man in my line of work must find a way to make a living!"
"And what line of work is that?"
"I am an actor!" (He pronounced it 'ac-tor', with emphasis on the 'or'.) "Or at least I hope to be. I am the poor player who struts and frets for a while on a stage and then has lunch. I am full of sound and furiousness! Oh, if there were but a good theatre troupe in this town, I could give up selling these baubles. Oh! Woe is me!"
I nearly burst out laughing. Was this guy serious? "Well, I'll see if I can find one for you."
"Oh, to be an actor," I heard him murmur, as I walked away. "To act, perchance to earn some money!"
After asking around about the theatre scene in Vivec, I was directed to Crassius Curio, a noble in the Hlaalu canton. Apparently he was quite a patron of the arts, and was currently looking for actors to star in his new play. I took a gondola to the Hlaalu canton, which was all but identical to the Foreign Quarter, complete with those scary-looking Ordinators around every corner. How the people of Vivec could stand to have those guys watching their every move was beyond me.
I was a little apprehensive about marching into Curio's splendid top-tier mansion and asking to see him, but when I explained that I was a member of House Hlaalu, things went pretty smoothly. A Dunmer servant directed me to Curio, who was 'busy with his writing' in his room below. In hindsight, I guess I should have found it a little strange that he chose to receive visitors in his bedroom.
The moment I saw Crassius Curio, I felt that there was something faintly sleazy about him. He was almost a stereotypical Imperial noble, decked out in elegant Western-style clothes and jewels that were perhaps a little too flamboyant. I stiffened a little at the wolfish grin he shot me when I entered the room, but I was determined not to let it bother me.
"Crassius Curio?" I asked, looking him straight in the eye.
"Yes, I'm Crassius Curio," he said with a smile. "But you can call me 'Uncle Crassius'." Uncle Crassius?
"I heard you were looking for actors for a theatre troupe," I said, trying to ignore the 'Uncle Crassius' remark.
His eyes lit up. "A company of players, yes! But there are so few in the area that are willing to act, even for a good price. I need an actor with wit, grace, charm, and a firm...oh, never mind." His eyes roved over me in a way that made me feel deeply uncomfortable. "You wouldn't be a bad choice, muffin."
"Me?" I said in alarm. "I can't act!"
"Ah, well," he sighed. "If you see someone else who fits the bill, send them to Uncle Crassius."
"Actually, I do know someone who might be interested," I said, and gave him a brief description of Marcel Maurard.
'Uncle Crassius' nodded thoughtfully when I'd finished. "Yes, he sounds exactly right for my new play, The Lusty Argonian Maid. A rather bawdy tale, but I think it will play well with the people." He gave me another of those rather disconcerting smiles. "You do like plays, don't you, pumpkin?"
"I love plays," I admitted. I'd often snuck out to see plays when I lived in the Imperial City, particularly the ones that my parents didn't think were 'suitable'. "In fact, I had an idea for a play once."
"Did you indeed?" His eyes sparkled with amusement. "And what was your idea?"
"Well…" I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to share it with him.
"Come on, sweetie, don't be shy."
I hesitated, then plunged ahead. "Well, there are these two noble families that have been feuding for generations. Say… one from House Hlaalu and one from House Redoran." He nodded. "Anyway, a boy from the Hlaalu family falls in love with a girl from the Redoran family. But of course, their parents won't hear of it."
"Ah, forbidden love!" he exclaimed. "Do go on."
"So they marry in secret," I continued, warming to my theme. "But then, the man accidentally kills another Redoran in a fight, and has to flee the city."
Crassius' eyes widened. "My goodness! What happens next?"
"Well, in the meantime, the girl's parents have arranged a marriage for her. But of course, she can't tell them that she's already married. So she goes to the local alchemist, and buys a potion that'll make her appear to be dead – "
"Ah, I see it now!" he breathed. "The fair Dunmer maiden, swept off her feet by the handsome Crellius… Caro, mad with despair – "
"Well. Um." I hesitated. "I suppose the hero could be an Imperial. But… I think it would be more effective if they were both Dunmer."
"But it all ends happily, of course?" he continued, appearing not to hear.
I took a deep breath. "Actually… I was planning to have both of them die at the end. You see, the point is – "
"Oh, but you can't have a sad ending, poppet!" He shook his head, chuckling. "Got to give the punters what they want, eh? No, I'll tell you what happens: The girl has a saucy Argonian maid – or maybe a Khajiit – who carries her messages to her lover. When he hears about the marriage and the potion, he returns to the city in disguise. Then all you need is a few more misunderstandings, a mix-up with a false moustache, feuding parents see the error of their ways, and all ends happily. Much better, don't you think?"
I opened my mouth, then closed it again. "I… suppose so."
"I shall start work on it at once," he declared. "That is, once I've finished The Lusty Argonian Maid. Here, take a look at the work so far – I think it's scrumptious!" He pressed a copy into my hands before I had time to answer.
I dutifully opened the manuscript at a random page and glanced at the dialogue inside. It showed an excerpt from 'Act IV, Scene III':
Lifts-Her-Tail: Certainly not, kind sir! I am here but to clean your chambers.
Crantius Colto: Is that all you have come here for, little one? My chambers?
Lifts-Her-Tail: I have no idea what it is you imply, master. I am but a poor Argonian maid.
Crantius Colto: So you are, my dumpling. And a good one at that. Such strong legs and shapely tail.
Lifts-Her-Tail: You embarrass me, sir!
Crantius Colto: Fear not. You are safe here with me.
Lifts-Her-Tail: I must finish my cleaning, sir. The mistress will have my head if I do not!
Crantius Colto: Cleaning, eh? I have something for you. Here, polish my spear.
Lifts-Her-Tail: But it is huge! It could take me all night!
Crantius Colto: Plenty of time, my sweet. Plenty of time.
Yes. Well. I probably wouldn't be rushing to see that one on opening night.
"I think it's marvellous," I told him, anxious to make my escape. "But I really have to go now. I'm sure Mr. Maurard will be delighted to hear you have a place for him."
"Goodbye, my little sweetroll," he said, with a wink. "Remember: Be sweet to Uncle Crassius, and there's something in it for you, sweetcakes."
Ye gods, this guy was creepy even by the standards of theatrical types. Just talking to him left me feeling like I needed a long bath. I left the place hoping fervently that I'd never have to see him again, play or no play. Oh, if I'd only known…
