Oreotragus ran from the tomb in a blind panic. At only seven years old, he didn't really comprehend what had just happened. He understood pain much better than most Bosmer his age – Qualergi had seen to that. But death was still a somewhat alien concept. According to Qualergi, their father had been killed by a highwayman before he was born, and their mother had died in childbirth. Qualergi had explained to him what "death" was, but he had never really understood. Even so, somehow, he knew that his brother was never going to get off the floor again.

As he ran, he failed to watch where he was going, until he ran straight into the one person who could've made this situation worse: Qualergi's old girlfriend, Telaendril. She was tall, blonde, and about as bloodthirsty a Bosmer as one would ever meet. She was also supposed to be an even better archer than Qualergi, although Qualergi had adamantly denied this.

"Whoa there," Telaendril said, grabbing Oreotragus by the shoulders and holding him at arms length. "What's the hurry there, squirt?"

Oreotragus was too frightened to speak. It was only the memory of their mother's dying words that had moved Qualergi to protect him from the worst of Telaendril's violence. Supposedly, Telaendril had murdered her mother in an attempt to obtain her inheritance sooner. Her father had taken her sisters, moved to Cyrodiil, and according to rumors, arranged for some thug to kill her – if these rumors were true, he had done it pretty sloppily, as Telaendril was clearly still alive.

"Can't talk?" Telaendril teased. "What's the matter? Knife got your tongue?" As she said this, she produced a small knife from her sleeve and held it up to Oreotragus' mouth. She laughed as the small elf quivered in her hands. "What are you doing out here by yourself, anyway? Where's Qualergi?"

Oreotragus managed to jerk his head back towards the open door of the tomb, which was still visible in the distance. It was then that Telaendril noticed the blood on Oreotragus' clothes. Having always been an exceptionally clever elf, it didn't take her long to put the pieces together.

"What did you do!" she shrieked.

Oreotragus whimpered and shrunk away from her.

Telaendril began shaking Oreotragus. "You little fetcher! What did you do!" She threw Oreotragus to the ground and ran into the tomb. If Oreotragus had been a little older and less traumatized, it probably would've occurred to him to run at that moment. As it was, the thought never even crossed his mind until Telaendril's scream sent several nearby birds flying. Oreotragus started to run again, this time towards his house, the only shelter he had ever known. Qualergi had never been able to afford a decent tree house, so his was the only house in the neighborhood that sat on the ground. He barely closed the door behind him before he heard Telaendril's arrow thud against the wood, at exactly where his head had been. He dashed into the bedroom he and Qualergi had shared, slamming the door just as Telaendril's war cry shook dust from the rafters.

"I'm gonna kill you!" she screamed. Something shattered on the floor outside the room…possibly the vase that Qualergi said contained their mother's ashes. The house didn't have many rooms, so it wasn't long before the door to the room began banging against the bed Oreotragus had somehow managed to push in front of it. Had he been in other circumstances, he may have marveled that he had been able to move such a large piece of furniture in front of the door…then again, had he been in other circumstances, he wouldn't have had a need to. Telaendril now began throwing her entire weight against the door. In his panic, Oreotragus grabbed for the nearest thing that could possibly help him: Qualergi's bow and quiver. He barely managed to get an arrow into the bow before Telaendril pushed the door open with such force that she upended the bed.

Oreotragus wasn't really sure what happened next. He heard Telaendril draw and release her bow. At that precise moment, he turned and fired. His arrow struck hers in midair. Her arrow spun uselessly to the ground, while his lodged itself neatly in the bun on Telaendril's head.

In her shock, Telaendril completely forgot about killing Oreotragus. She had never missed a target, let alone been out-shot by a seven year-old. Oreotragus, his hands shaking, picked up the fallen arrow and did something he had never been able to do before: look Telaendril in the eyes.

"No…more…" he whispered, walking towards her. "Qualergi can't hurt me any more. And now…neither will you!" He put Telaendril's arrow to Qualergi's bow and pulled back.

Telaendril's mouth began to curl upwards. "You have nowhere to go. You're a murderer. And if you kill me, you'll be a double murderer. Do you know what they do to murderers? They lock them away in dark, damp, smelly prison cells, where you barely have room to turn around, and make you eat nothing but stale bread. And after a few days, they take you out behind the building and cut off your head."

"No," Oreotragus stammered. "No, I – I'll hide! I'll hide somewhere and–"

"Aren't you listening? You're a murderer now. Nobody will hide you! Although…"

"What?"

"There might be a group who'd be willing to take you in. A group who would not only not care that you broke the law, but could actually use a kid like you."

"Who?"

"Only problem is…you just killed their leader. It'll take some persuading to get them to let you stay with them. That's where I come in…"

CHAPTER 25

Sharn gra-Muzgob jumped at the sound of something being slammed on the table in front of her. She put down her book and, only barely noticing the strange looks from the fellow members of the Mages' Guild, turned her attention to the two travelers that were now standing in front of her. The Argonian was holding a burlap bag. Actually, he was pinning it to the table, as it seemed to contain something moving.

"What's this?" she asked.

"See for yourself," the Bosmer said, apparently not happy about something. Sharn cautiously took the bag from the Argonian and peered inside – and viciously recoiled as a human skull nearly bit her nose off. That was when she recognized the travelers.

"Oh, you're the ones Caius sent," she said.

"Yeah," Oreotragus growled. "And thank you so much for asking us to retrieve this for you. I so enjoyed nearly having my finger chewed off by a human sku…"

Sharn suddenly started coughing very loudly, and the other members of the guild leaned in and began listening intently. She sighed and looked at Varansaur and Oreotragus. "So, Caius wants to know about the Nerevarine cult, yes?"

"Yeah," Varansaur said. He was surprised – she had asked an innocent question. Why did he sound so venomous when he answered? He hoped she hadn't noticed and continued; "What is it?"

"It's an Ashlander cult," Sharn said. "They believe the long-dead hero Nerevar Indoril will be reborn to honor ancient promises to the tribes. According to legend, the prophesied Nerevarine will cast down the false gods of the Tribunal Temple, restore the traditional ancestor worship practiced by the Ashlanders, and drive all outlanders from Morrowind. Both Temple and Empire outlaw the cult, but it persists among the Ashlanders, who care little for Imperial or Temple law."

Good for them, Oreotragus thought as he wrote down these last few words.

"Here," Sharn said, handing Varansaur what seemed to be a small pamphlet. "I took the liberty of writing some more detailed notes for Caius. Feel free to peruse them, somewhere where I won't be connected if anyone catches you reading them. I'd read them aloud for you, but I figure the less time we spend talking down here, the better." With these words, she grabbed the bag with the skull, tossed it unceremoniously in her trunk, and refused to say another word.

"I think that's all we're getting out of her," Oreotragus said. "Let's go see about breakfast."

"Freakin' Orc…" Varansaur muttered under his breath.

Oreotragus stopped walking. "What was that?"

"What was what?"

"What you just said."

Varansaur paused. He hadn't really been consciously aware of what he was saying. "What did I say?"

"That's what I'm asking you. I'm pretty sure I heard the word 'Orc,' but…oh my gods! I don't believe it!"

Varansaur scowled. "What are you on about?"

"After everything your people have been through, you actually have the nerve to hate her for being an Orc!"

"I don't hate her for being an Orc. I hate her for sending us on that stupid errand!"

"Well, so do I, but then what did you say?"

"I…don't know…" Varansaur was a little confused. What had he said? Was Oreotragus right? Had that random Orc he met in the street on the day he arrived in Balmora been right? Had his stint in prison caused him to dislike Orcs, simply out of principle?

All thoughts of this nature were driven out of his head as he and Oreotragus entered the foyer. There, they saw the Dunmer woman they had seen earlier, whose name they had learned was Ranis Athrys, and a Bosmer woman in a very exquisite orange robe, reading a note. Ranis looked distressed.

"It's from Edwinna," she was saying to the Bosmer. "While they were out investigating those vampire rumors, somebody broke into the Ald'Ruhn Mages' Guild, killed Manis, and made off with pretty much everything of value! They even got Anarenen's tanto!"

Varansaur and Oreotragus exited the building rather quickly, hoping against hope that they didn't look too suspicious. "So," Varansaur said, his voice betraying his nervousness, "how about that breakfast?"

X X X

The first thing Varansaur noticed was the smell. He had been inside the South Wall several times, but it had never smelled like fried fish before. The second thing he noticed was that the building was apparently empty. As Oreotragus led him downstairs, he immediately saw the answers to both mysteries. Every member of the Balmora Thieves' Guild was downstairs. Phane Rielle and Arathor were seated at the bar, apparently debating whether or not someone called the "Grey Fox" was a real person. Only-He-Stands-There was seated at a table, apparently contemplating the tapestry on the opposite wall. At the table next to him, Sottilde and Chirranirr were taking turns trying to break his concentration. Bacola Closcius was standing behind the counter, where he had set up what appeared to be a mini kitchen. This was the source of the smell.

"Morning," Closcius said as Varansaur and Oreotragus sat down at the bar. "What can I get you?"

"Two Fredas breakfast specials," Oreotragus said.

"Two fried slaughterfish on toast, coming up," Closcius said, as he began throwing ingredients in the pans.

Oreotragus looked around the room, while Varansaur began reading Sharn's notes. "Where's Habasi?" Oreotragus asked.

"I don't know," Closcius said, "and that's slightly worrying. Normally, on Slaughterfish Fredas, she's the first one in the club."

"Wow," Varansaur said, still looking at the notes. "The Temple really doesn't like this Nerevarine prophecy."

"Well," Oreotragus replied, "Sharn did say the prophecy said he would…what were her words…'cast down the false gods of the Tribunal temple.'"

"Well, apparently," Varansaur said, handing Closcius a small handful of coins in exchange for a plate of food, "any time someone claims to be the Nerevarine, they call them a 'false incarnate,' declare them to be insane, and have the Ordinators arrest them 'for their own good.' The most recent one was some girl named Peakstar. The Temple says she's dead, but no body was ever produced." He took a bite of toast and read a little further down the notes. "'The cult operates in secret, and it is hard to judge how widespread it is among the Ashlanders, or whether it has any following outside the Ashlander tribes.' Well, seeing how the Temple reacts to it, I'm not surprised. It also says that the Temple honors and venerates Lord Nerevar as a hero, but 'rejects the disgusting notion that the False Incarnate will walk the earth like a ghoul.'"

"I really don't care," Oreotragus said, through a mouthful of fish. "About any of this."

Varansaur started. He had turned to the page labeled "Nerevarine Prophecies", which opened with the paragraph "Dream visions and prophecies are a respected tradition in Ashlander culture. Their wise women and shamans take careful note of dreams and visions, and pass on the tribe's legacies of vision and prophecy to their successors. By contrast, the Temple and the Western faiths are suspicious of mysticism, and they regard interpretation of dreams and visions as primitive superstition."

Dreams…hadn't Jiub, the Dunmer on the prison ship, said something about dreams? "In Morrowind, if you have a bizarre dream, the Temple thinks you're a heretic. And they want to lock you up. If you have a bizarre dream, and the Temple thinks it means something, they think you're a prophet or a witch. And they want to lock you up."

Oreotragus looked at Varansaur. "You okay?"

Varansaur shook himself back to reality. "Huh? Oh, yeah. I just had a flashback to this weird dream I had on the boat on the way over here."

Oreotragus gave a disapproving sniff. "It couldn't have been any weirder than the dream I had. I was in some wasteland…there was red dust everywhere…it sort of looked like Ald'Ruhn, but without the buildings. There was a voice…I couldn't see the speaker, but it sounded sort of like a woman…I almost got hit by lightning, and attacked by a cliff racer, and then I woke up…" Here he stopped talking, because Varansaur was staring at him, with the end of his fork hanging out of his mouth. It took a few seconds, but one could practically see the light bulb go on in Oreotragus' head. "You don't mean that you…"

"Did yours have these words scrolling through your field of vision before the woman started speaking?"

"Yeah…I couldn't read most of them, they were in Daedric, or something, but the last line clearly said–"

"… 'Many fall, but one remains'" Varansaur finished for him. He quickly snatched up the papers and began scanning them frantically. "I knew it! I knew that phrase was familiar. Listen to this. '"The Stranger" is the most common version of the Nerevarine prophecy. "When earth is sundered, and skies choked black/And sleepers serve the seven curses/To the hearth there comes a stranger,/Journeyed far 'neath moon and star/Though stark-born to sire uncertain/His aspect marks his certain fate/Wicked stalk him, righteous curse him/Prophets speak, but all deny/Many trials make manifest/The stranger's fate, the curses' bane/Many touchstones try the stranger/Many fall, but one remains."'"

"Huh," Oreotragus said. Then, he started to laugh. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think we were the Nerevarine."

"Don't say that!" Closcius hissed. "Not even as a joke! You never know when the Temple may be listening. You're fairly safe in Balmora. It's a very Hlaalu town, and House Hlaalu's mostly loyal to the Empire, so the Temple doesn't have as much influence as it does in, say, Ald'Ruhn or Vivec."

"I thought the Empire didn't like the cult either," Varansaur said.

"No, but as long as you aren't outright claming to be involved, they're pretty much willing to look the other way. The Temple, on the other hand, will try to arrange for your arrest if they hear you say anything that even rhymes with 'Nerevarine.'"

"Wait," Oreotragus said, "there are words that rhyme with 'Nerevarine?'"

Before Closcius could answer, the door upstairs suddenly slammed shut. This was followed by the sound of running footsteps. Habasi appeared in the stairwell, taking the stairs two at a time. She paused, leaning against the wall to catch her breath, and then turned straight to Varansaur and Oreotragus. "You killed Vadusa Sathryon," she said.

Oreotragus alternated between looking at her and looking at Varansaur. "And that's…bad?"

"In and of itself, no. But the Camonna Tong is now on the warpath! They plan to strike the South Wall tonight!"

Oreotragus stood up and drew his sword. "I'd like to see them try."

"No," Habasi said. "That is precisely what they would want. They would not be overtly aggressive to you, and you would draw the guards' attention to our hideout. Besides, Habasi knows you two are busy doing important work for Caius Cosades." She chuckled at the surprised looks on their faces. "Do not be so surprised. Caius and Habasi are old friends. Caius helps keep our operations secret from the guards, in exchange for the Guild providing him with information and…other things. Oh, it is not what you are thinking," she quickly added in response to Varansaur's sudden look of disgust. "Caius has what Khajiit call a 'sugar tooth.' Moon sugar. A key ingredient in skooma. Habasi knows a dealer in town. She helps support both his job and his habit, and he supports the Guild."

"But what about the Camonna Tong!" Sottilde piped up from the far corner.

"Oh yes. The Camonna Tong. Tonight, we must all barricade ourselves in the South Wall…" she turned to Varansaur and Oreotragus, "except for you two, who will likely be out of town tonight. What Habasi wants you two to do is find an old acquaintance of the Guild. So old, in fact, that Habasi does not remember his name. All she remembers is that he is an Altmer, and a master of security, and he lives in Balmora. You must find him today, and you must convince him to return to the Guild and help us."

Varansaur swallowed his fish. "Wouldn't it make more sense to not be here when they show up?"

"They would just wait until we returned, and then attack us all. No, a better choice would be to wait it out. When the Camonna Tong tries to get past our security master's locks and traps, they will either become discouraged and leave, or attract the guards' attention and get caught in the act."

"I thought attracting the guards here was a bad thing."

"Not if we aren't the ones who attract them," Habasi said. "The guards know all about us. We operate under the radar, so they cannot charge any members of the Guild with any specific crimes. Thus, they cannot do anything about us. What Habasi meant before was that if we draw their attention, they will charge the whole of the Thieves' Guild with something."

Varansaur sighed. "We can't get a day's rest, can we?" He finished his last bite of fish and turned to go.

"By the way," Habasi said, "Habasi has spoken with Bragor. You performed well." She handed Oreotragus and Varansaur each a pouch of coins. "This should be plenty reward for your trouble."

X X X

Caius Cosades read over Sharn's notes. "Excellent work. I'm promoting both of you to the rank of Blades Apprentice."

Varansaur blinked. "What?"

"Oh, did I forget to tell you? Yeah…the orders you delivered me from Seyda Neen included an order from the Emperor to induct you into the Blades, the hidden Eyes and Ears of the Empire."

"So, we're Imperial spies?" Oreotragus said.

"Not so loud," Caius hissed. "But yes. And you've just been promoted. Now give me some time to think how this fits in with the Emperor's plans for you. So take some time to polish your skills and enhance your cover story with a little freelance adventuring. I should have new orders ready for you before sunset."

"You know," Varansaur said, "it's funny you should mention that…" and he told Caius what Habasi had asked them to do.

"You're sure she said 'he?'" Caius asked.

"Yes."

"Well, then, that pretty much narrows it down to Hecerinde. There's only six Altmer in Balmora. Four of them are women, and the fifth, Tyermaillin, is a member of the Blades, so I know it isn't him. I don't know Hecerinde's exact address, but I know he lives on the east bank of the Odai river, on the north side of town."

"Hang on," Oreotragus said. "I'm not so sure I like the idea of being a spy for the Empire. I had a good thing going before the Legion got in the way."

"A good thing?" Caius asked. "You were a pirate."

"Yes, and I probably had more money than the Emperor himself! Give me one good reason why I should be a spy for the very Empire that took all that away from me!"

As an answer, Caius tossed Varansaur and Oreotragus each a small cloth sack of gold. "Think of this as compensation for whatever insane task Sharn had you do."

Oreotragus scowl darkened. "If you think I can be bought off that easily," he peered inside the sack, "then you sir…" his eyes widened, "definitely have the measure of me!"

X X X

Varansaur and Oreotragus arrived at the east bank of the Odai River. They were now in the neighborhood where Caius had said they could find Hecerinde. They began looking at the houses, but none of them had any indication as to who lived in which house.

"Can I help you?" came a curt voice from behind them.

Varansaur and Oreotragus spun around to find a Dunmer man with a green robe and flat-top haircut standing behind them.

"Well, actually," Varansaur said, "we're looking for a friend of ours who we understand lives in this part of town. An Altmer, by the name of Hecerinde. Would you happen to know where he lives?"

"Oh, of course." The Dunmer pointed to one of the houses. "Although," he leaned in close and began whispering, "I think that house is being watched. There's a woman sitting in the alley next to the house. She's been there for hours. I happened to catch a glimpse of the book she's reading as I walked past, and I think it's in Sloadic. I don't keep tabs with her kind of people, but I highly doubt Marasa Aren would be able to read Sloadic."

Varansaur started. He knew the name Marasa Aren somewhere…

"Well," Oreotragus whispered back, "thanks for the tip."

"Any time," the Dunmer replied. "Name's Rararyn Radarys."

Varansaur and Oreotragus had to stifle the urge to laugh as they walked towards Hecerinde's house. (If your last name was Radarys, what could possibly possess you to name your child Rararyn?) As they approached the house, they saw that there was indeed a grey-haired Dunmer woman in black clothing sitting on a crate in the alley beside the house. She appeared to be reading a book entitled N'Gasta! Kvata! Kvakis! As they approached her, she didn't even acknowledge their presence.

"What are you up to?" Varansaur asked.

The woman didn't look up from her book. "I fail to see how that is any of your business."

"Your name wouldn't by any chance be Marasa Aren, would it?" Oreotragus asked.

"If it was, I certainly wouldn't tell you. Get lost."

Figuring that it was pointless trying to get any further answer out of the woman, Varansaur and Oreotragus walked up to Hecerinde's front door, both trying to figure out where they had heard the name Marasa Aren before. Oreotragus knocked on the door. There was no answer, although Varansaur thought he heard something move inside the house. He happened to glance over at the woman in the alley, who was very obviously looking over the top of her book at them. There was a look of utter hatred in her eyes that Varansaur found disconcertingly familiar…he had definitely seen several other Dunmer look at him like that…Orvas Dren…Thanelen Velas…Vadusa Sathryon…

"Marasa Aren!" Varansaur hissed out of the side of his mouth.

Oreotragus turned to him. "What?"

"I know where I recognize that name! She's one of Larrius Varro's 'bad people.'"

Oreotragus gave the woman a sideways glance. She had gone back to pretending to read her book. Oreotragus' mouth broke into a wide grin.

"What are you thinking?" Varansaur asked, dreading the answer.

"Isn't it obvious?" Oreotragus whispered. "She's on a spy mission. She's waiting for someone to try to make contact with Hecerinde." He chuckled under his breath. "I'm thinking we should have a little fun." With that, he cleared his throat and said loudly; "This is clearly the wrong house. I told you, he said west bank of the Odai River! Honestly, how can the Empire expect to eliminate the Camonna Tong with people like you in charge?"

There was a loud thud as Marasa Aren fell off of her crate.

Varansaur nearly laughed as he recognized the brilliance of Oreotragus' plan, not caring about the irony of that sentence. "You didn't complain when I killed those last four operatives. Who was it that found them, again? Oh that's right, it was me."

Marasa Aren was now hiding behind the crate, trying not to be seen.

"You had a lot of help with that," Oreotragus said. "Sathryon would probably still be alive if we hadn't been there to save your ass."

"Yeah," Varansaur said, looking around, "where is everyone else, anyway?"

"They're probably where we were supposed to be. Come on, we need to find those plans quickly if we want to be at Dren's plantation by sunset."

The two started walking away. They deliberately passed by Marasa Aren's hiding place. She silently drew a dagger and crept up on Oreotragus, figuring that as the smaller of the two, he'd be easier to kill. She reached around him, preparing to grab his right arm with her left hand and slit his throat with her right. She might have succeeded, had her targets not been listening intently for this very thing to happen. She suddenly felt herself swept off her feet by Varansaur's tail.

Varansaur turned around, made sure that her dagger had landed a good distance away from her, and approached the fallen woman. "My apologies, Muthsera," he said, extending a hand to help her up. "Twenty-two years, and I still haven't learned to control the damn thing."

"Don't touch me, s'wit!" Aren spat, scuttling backwards to her dagger.

"Someone's in a bad mood," Oreotragus said. "It's that time of the month, isn't it?"

Aren looked as though Oreotragus had called her mother a whore. Varansaur simply gave him a confused look.

"It's a mammal thing," Oreotragus said. "I'll explain later."

Aren snatched up her dagger and jumped unsteadily to her feet. "Stay away from me!" she shouted. "I know all about you and what you're up to."

"What ever do you mean?" Varansaur asked.

"Don't play stupid. I'm onto you. You won't get away with it!" With a shout, she charged headlong into Varansaur, tackling him to the ground. Varansaur quickly reached up and grabbed her wrist, stopping her dagger an inch from his face.

Oreotragus tilted his head back and shouted "Help! Guards! Assault!"

Marasa Aren turned and leapt towards Oreotragus, snarling like an animal, momentarily forgetting that Varansaur still had hold of her wrist. He jerked her arm, hard, causing her to roll over him, landing flat on her back beside him, her dagger skittering across the pavement once more. Both she and Varansaur quickly jumped to their feet, just as three guards arrived on the scene.

"What's going on here?" one of the guards asked.

Aren shot him a mad glare, too far gone to come up with a coherent lie. Varansaur simply pointed at her and said "She attacked me!"

The guard looked at Aren. "Ma'am, drop your weapon. You're under arrest."

Aren looked back at Oreotragus and Varansaur. "Oh, I see your little game now. Have your imperial friends silence me, eh?"

The guards looked at Oreotragus and Varansaur. Varansaur simply shrugged, while Oreotragus spun his finger in a circle around his ear and mouthed the word "Nuts."

"Well it's not going to work!" she screeched. "I have friends in high places, you know. I'll get out. And when I do, I'll find you. Nobody's going to keep me silenced!" She turned to the guards. "Especially not any blood-traitor Hlaalu!" She sprung into the air, dagger raised, straight towards the guard. In the same instant, the guard drew his mace in a wide, sweeping motion. The mace connected with Aren's jaw with a sickening crack. She did a complete 180 in the air and landed, face-down, on the pavement. For several seconds, she struggled to move, her breathing shallow and ragged. Then, she slowly placed her hands on the ground to her side, her right hand covered in blood, and turned herself over, revealing that upon landing, her dagger had become buried to the hilt in her abdomen. She lay on the ground for several more seconds, trying to draw breath, occasionally spitting out a mouthful of blood. Then, she slightly raised her head and grabbed the hilt of her dagger with her hand.

"No, don't-" one of the guards started, but before he could finish, Aren pulled the dagger out of her body, with a visible wince of agony. It made a nasty, slurping sound as it came out. She tried to sit up, her muscles shaking from the effort, before her eyes rolled back in her head, and she slumped back to the ground, dead.

"I tried to tell her," the guard said. "If she had left it there, we probably could've gotten her to a healer." The other two guards picked up the body, and the three of them left the area.

Varansaur looked at Oreotragus. "That was…"

"Fun? Exhilarating?"

"Disgusting!" Varansaur said. "That was probably the most sickening fight I've even been involved in."

"We never are going to see eye-to-eye on this whole killing thing, are we? More than anything, I'm just giddy that it worked."

"What worked?"

"My plan. Vadusa Sathryon's death had the entire Camonna Tong on edge, and all I had to do was provoke her over it."

Before the conversation could go any further, the door Oreotragus had knocked on creaked open. "Over here," a deep voice hissed.

Varansaur and Oreotragus looked around, then slowly snuck over to the door. Once inside, they saw an austere-looking Altmer man looking down at them.

"I'm impressed at the way you handled that," he said, with an air of snootiness. "My name is Hecerinde. I believe you may have been trying to contact me?"

"Yes," Varansaur said. "We're here on behalf of Sugar-Lips Habasi…"

"Ah, Habasi," Hecerinde interrupted, no longer looking at Oreotragus or Varansaur. "Such a dear friend. I did always wonder what happened to her."

"Yeah," Oreotragus said. "She said something about asking you to secure the South Wall against a Camonna Tong invasion tonight…"

"I suppose I have been negligent towards the guild lately," Hecerinde said, his voice not really indicating whether or not he had actually heard Oreotragus. "I should stop by and see what she needs of me." With that, he ushered Varansaur and Oreotragus out the door and strode in the direction of the South Wall.

"Damn," Varansaur said. "How arrogant can you get?"

At that moment, Varansaur was interrupted by a loud "Ahem!" behind him. He and Oreotragus turned to see a Dunmer man with a rather pinched-looking face standing behind them.

"Name's Fast Eddie," the Dunmer whispered, slipping Varansaur a folded piece of paper. "Caius sent me." Without another word, he disappeared down the nearest alley.

Varansaur and Oreotragus exchanged confused looks, before Varansaur unfolded the paper.

"He has a new task for us," Varansaur said in a sotto voice. "He wants us to go to Vivec city and meet up with three informants, and get everything they know about the Nerevarine Cult and/or the Sixth House."

A fierce, biting wind suddenly blew through town, nearly knocking several people off their feet.

"What is it with those guys?" Oreotragus asked. "You don't think they're related somehow, do you?"

"At this point," Varansaur said, "I wouldn't be surprised. I mean, they both deal with the ancient history of Morrowind. And didn't that Nerevar guy have the same last name as one of the five legitimate houses? Indoril, I think it was."

"Caius probably won't tell us anything," Oreotragus said, with a scathing look on his face. "Imperial bureaucratic type, that. His moon sugar addiction is probably just a cover story."

"Well then, we'd probably best head for Vivec. We probably shouldn't be in town tonight, anyway. Our options would be…Mages' Guild, siltstrider, and walking. I'm not sure which one I find least appealing."

"Well," Oreotragus said, "I think the less we have to do with the Mages' Guild right now, the better. Let the heat from the Ald'Ruhn job die down a bit."

"True," Varansaur said. "And if we walk, we're almost certain to get lost and/or eaten. But those damn siltstrider drivers…"

Oreotragus started rummaging through a nearby trash barrel.

"What are you doing?" Varansaur asked.

"Here," Oreotragus said, pulling two lumps of marshmerrow from the barrel. "Stuff these in your ears and just hum to yourself."

"I'm not putting those in my ears!" Varansaur recoiled. "They've been in the trash!"

Oreotragus folded his arms. "One, you're an Argonian. By your own admission, you grew up in a swamp. You can handle a little filth. B, the alternative would be listening to the driver describe every speck of dust between here and Vivec."

Varansaur looked at the ground for a few seconds, before snatching the marshmerrow from Oreotragus' hand and making his way towards the siltstrider.