Sorry for the long wait, I was doing my internship in the last month and it seems my beta reader also is busy. In the end I decided that I will publish the chapter now rather than wait who knows how long for the edited version.
Lunar Loon - Chances are he will abuse his knowledge, he is simply that kind of person. A confrontation with Vivec is unavoidable - if Ted wants to become a companion of Azirra, meeting with him is only a matter of time.
Guest - Obviously Ted can't win every time, that would be boring. It's sadly hard to arrange - it takes a warrior of extraordinary power to challenge a dragon, even a noob like Rotheimaak. I can't even throw a mammoth or a giant at him, as there are none in Morrowind. So our dragon protagonist will remain strong outside of Red Mountain region.
Here we are, in chapter sixteen. I hope you will like it, even if there's not as much action as usually.
The St. Olms Canton, located right next to the Temple Canton, was one of the most important locations for Vvardenfell's light industry. The Waistworks was filled with various trade halls and minor guilds. Fishermen, brewers, tailors, dyers, tanners, miners, manufacturers, farmers...there were shops in almost every canton, but if you wanted to have a wide selection in one place, this is where you had to go. It was probably the most crowded of all cantons, with the exception of Arena Canton on some days. It was also the hunting grounds for both the Camonna Tong and the Thieves Guild. Case in point—Azirra was recently forced to give some less-skilled pickpocket a knuckle sandwich. She watched with a scowl as the Bosmer disappeared into the crowd.
"I can see why she would pick this canton to hide," murmured the agent. "Even a daedroth would be hard to spot in here."
There was, however, one person that was sticking out of the crowd like a sore thumb: an Imperial in very lavish robes. While there were many goods to be found in the St. Olms Canton, none of them should be important enough to capture the attention of someone like that. Here, the traders mostly aimed to tend to the everyday needs of the city's population, so when one wanted to buy something more extraordinary, one had to find a specialized merchant in another canton. Also... the guy was already staring at Azirra when she spotted him, and now he was making his way towards her, pushing his way through the shoppers.
The young agent couldn't recall meeting him, so after a short moment of indecision she decided to stay where she stood, allowing the man to approach. If he had been moving any faster, she would have fled. Divines only knew how many enemies the Blades had.
"Good morning, miss," the man greeted, once he got through the crowd of Dunmer. "Could you help me with something? I'm looking for a friend of mine, a Khajiit named Addhiranirr. Have you seen her?" Um...what am I supposed to say? I can't admit I know of her, since this might be a trap...
"Addhiranirr? Sorry, this one doesn't know her." When in doubt, speak like any other Khajiit. "But this one will ask her friends about Khajiit, yes?"
"Oh, thank you. I guess I will search some more... I'll be around if you learn something. Just...don't tell her I'm looking for her, alright? I want it to be a surprise."
Surprise, huh? Looks like I made another good decision. I guess it's time to check those sewers. I hope it wasn't just another one of that dragon's jokes...it'll be terrible enough as is without factoring in the awful smell.
Hopefully, it won't be so bad.
Rotheimaak groaned and opened his eyes, which were immediately assaulted by the rays of the sun. The dragon ignored them—he was already aware of the fact that he could look at it just fine without damaging his eyesight, even if it was a bit bright.
"You're awake. Interesting. That makes you the first person who has taken an Ash Vampire's charged spell head-on and survived."
The dragon glanced to his side and found Manirai, the Wise Woman of the Erabenimsun, sitting amongst several other Ashlanders in a small camp. They were situated on a mountainside opposite of the Ghostgate. The sky was blue (definitely a rare occurrence in this area) and, given that the sun was visible despite the high mountains on both sides, it was probably noon already.
"Well, the other victims were Dunmer. Of course they would die from something that tossed me, the biggest living thing in Vvardenfell, as if it was nothing." Rotheimaak extended his wing. The wound was no longer visible; a layer of scales had already grown over it during the night. Wolverine would be proud. Ted lowered the wing, making a mental note to test if he could fly again later. "Did anything happen while I was out?"
"Not much. The attackers dispersed just as soon as you were hit; even an Ash Vampire can't attack the Ghostgate without a strategy and hope to win. Oh, and some Ordinator was also asking about you."
"Have you told him anything?"
"Only enough for him to leave me alone—that you are a Guardian Beast of my tribe and that we traveled together to visit another Wise Woman."
"Good. Who are your friends over there?"
"Ashlanders of many tribes. The settled Dunmer are proud of their Ghostgate and their fight against the Devil, but my people also have a crusade against him. From time to time each tribe sends a warrior to aid in the effort. A good training opportunity for future khans."
"I see...well, let's get going. I think I'm good to go, if a bit sore. I would rather avoid answering questions myself."
Ted smiled as they lifted from the ground with little effort. Good. Now the other tribes will also hear about me before I approach them. His smirk vanished as soon as it appeared. It's a shame the same goes for the Temple. They will be a thorn in my side as soon as I reveal my connection to the Nerevarine cult. Oh well, I'll burn that bridge when I get to it. Unless the Blades or Vivec himself gets on my case, I should be fine... and given that nowadays he spends all of his time in his palace, it's only Caius and his underlings that I have to worry about.
He was wrong. Oh, he was so terribly wrong.
It wasn't that bad.
It was worse.
The collective fecal matter and all other kinds of waste from the entire canton was flowing down there and...and what? Azirra knew the...water from here eventually ended up in the sea (hence why it wasn't recommended to swim around the city—that, and the slaughterfishes), but what happened in-between remained a mystery. A disgusting, smelly mystery that no one wanted to figure out.
Except for maybe that one woman in a full set of steel armor, who was charging in Azirra's direction with a sword raised in one hand. Azirra's eyes widened.
"What the...what are you doing?!" she shouted, backing away. The Dunmer woman ignored her question and continued running. Now, since it had become clear that there was no peaceful solution, Azirra braced herself and prepared a spell.
"You asked for this," she growled as a Greater Shockball collided with the enemy and brought her to her knees. Azirra walked closer with her spear in hand.
A few hours of training hadn't turned her into a master of this weapon, but she knew where to aim for the most damage and a nearly-immobilized enemy wasn't a challenging foe. She lifted the spear.
She thrusted (get your mind out of gutter).
A corpse dropped to the floor. Azirra sighed, still confused.
"What was that all about?"
The Khajiit decided to investigate the body to hopefully figure out the woman's motives for attacking a stranger. A quick search revealed nothing—no note with orders, no strange items or anything else. In fact, the Dunmer had, of all possible things, only a slightly squashed muffin in her pocket.
I guess I might as well loot the armor, thought Azirra somberly. Killing a slaver and various murderous smugglers weighted on her conscience less than this death—while the unknown attacker started the fight, the mage couldn't be certain what was the cause and if she really had to die. The possibility that she killed a good person because of a simple misunderstanding was frightening.
She nibbled on the muffin and the world become slightly less gloomy. Just like any Khajiit, Azirra loved sweets.
After removing the gauntlets, boots, pauldrons, and sword from the body—which she could pack without much problem—Azirra delved deeper into the sewers. The canalworks of the Vivec cantons were simple in construction—two main canals with up to two smaller connections between them, which were either submerged in...the water, or were big pipes almost (but not completely) above the level of the so-called water. Azirra obviously picked the latter to get to the second canal, doing her best to ignore the moisture on her feet. Finally, she noticed a figure in the dark and, obviously, asked the only possible question in this situation.
"What possessed you to hide here of all places, Addhiranirr?"
Addhiranirr was short even for a Khajiit of her breed; Azirra, who wasn't exactly a giant herself, was taller at least by a head. The informant was wearing simple clothing with no armor at all, not surprising given her trade.
"This one does not know you. Who are you?"
"I'm Azirra, I work for Caius."
"Ah, so the old man wants Addhiranirr to pay off her debt. Alright. But first, she has a request."
The mage frowned.
"Caius said all informants I was going to speak with in Vivec already owed him and shouldn't demand anything in return for the intel."
The thief scowled.
"Look around. Addhiranirr has been down here in this filth all day, putting up with overgrown rats and one skooma addict, all because of one stubborn taxman. This one needs him gone—redirect him somewhere. She will put in a good word with the grandmaster of the guild."
Azirra continued glaring, although no longer with so much intensity.
"Please?"
The agent groaned. Maybe her heart was too soft, but after spending just a few minutes in this place she had no intentions of making anyone stay here longer than was necessary.
"And?" asked Addhiranirr as soon as Azirra approached her again.
"You don't need to worry about him anymore. I told him you boarded the ship for the mainland."
"Oh, many thanks. Addhiranirr would be happy to help a friend of her good friend Caius. What is it that you need to know?"
Azirra was already holding some paper and a quill.
"Tell me what you know about the Nerevarine and the Sixth House."
"Addhiranirr knows nothing about the Nerevarine, because it is just a silly superstition. So, you tell Caius this: Nobody in her right mind pays any attention to this nonsense. Prophecies and ancient heroes reborn and other silliness. Fuzzy tales for little kitties."
"And the Sixth House?"
"This Addhiranirr knows about, because it is about smuggling. Some smart smugglers are suddenly too busy for their old clients, because they have a new employer, the Sixth House, who pays VERY well. But what do they smuggle now? Addhiranirr doesn't know, because they are very secretive. And this is odd, because these smugglers are always loud and full of bravado, and now they hush up like fat-bellied kitties full of sweet-meats."
Azirra blinked. The Sixth House was involved in smuggling? That's a strange activity for a religious organization, even if it's an evil organization. She looked expectantly at the other Khajiit, but the thief seemed to not take the hint.
"And?"
"And what?"
"What more do you know?"
"That's all."
Azirra's glare was so powerful it could make a basilisk cry.
"You can not be serious."
Any further talk was cut out by a roar from the depths of the canalworks, which made both Khajiits jump in fright.
"WHO DID THIS?! FIND THE KILLER!"
If this was an anime, the young agent would be sweatdropping right about now. She glanced at the thief...only to find air in her place. Confused, she looked around, but Addhiranirr was nowhere in sight.
"FOUND YOU!"
A group of three people appeared at the other end of the canal. All of them were armed. Azirra's eyes doubled in size when she noticed the weapon the thug in front was holding.
Is...is that a daedric sword?!
"I'LL CRUSH YOU TO HONOR LORD MEHRUNES DAGON, CAT!"
"No," stated Azirra calmly as she started climbing the ladder to the Waistworks, which was fortunately only a few meters away. "No. No. No."
After losing three very pissed cultists (which fortunately wasn't that hard given that Ordinators didn't take kindly to people swinging around a daedric sword in public and screaming bloody murder), Azirra continued her mission of enlightenment in Temple Canton, which happened to stand right next to the St. Olms Canton.
Mehra Milo is working at the library...but where IS the library? Those entrances aren't marked, not even in this gibberish the Dunmer use to write.
She was just about to pick one at random and ask someone inside to redirect her, when she felt someone's hand on her shoulder. She turned around and saw a familiar face.
"Oh! Hi, err...Layman Viralas, was it?"
"Actually, it's Acolyte now, but you're right. Say, what brings you to the Temple again, on this fine day? Have you perhaps reconsidered joining the flock of Vivec?"
Was he that annoying the first time I met him?
Remond Viralas, an exception to the unspoken rule that all Dunmer had to frown all the time, hadn't changed much since she met him few a days ago. He still had the same worn-down gray robe that at one point was probably white and the fiery red hair that clashed with his station as a priest. The only new addition was the weapon on his back. Azirra's jaw dropped.
"Er, no...is...how can you carry a hammer that big? Even an Orc would have problems with using something of that size!"
"My faith gives me strength!"
Of course it does.
"Why do you even need that? You're a priest."
"A priest's duty is to guide lost souls to salvation...and smite evil no matter where and when he finds it. I am always ready to do both."
Azirra decided to ignore two-thirds of the enthusiastic Dunmer's declaration.
"Salvation is nice, but for now guidance to the library will be enough. Do you know where I can find it?"
"But of course! I was about to go there myself, in fact. Follow me."
Viralas guided her to the lower level of the canton and ushered her inside.
"So..." started Azirra, wanting to make the walk less silent and awkward. She did her best to remember what little she learned about the Temple hierarchy. "You're an Acolyte now, correct? That's one rank above the Layman?"
"No. There's Novice and Initiate between them—I was both of those much shorter than I was a Layman. I've done several major tasks since then: first, as tradition requires, I've tended to the ill both in body and mind. Later, I've shown compassion to an enemy of faith by curing a daedric cultist in some distant ruins. Then, after I banished a so-called Nerevarine from Suran, I went on an additional pilgrimage to Maar Gan and proceeded to taunt the Dremora stationed there to mimic Lord Vivec when he annoyed Mehrunes Dagon until he had thrown a boulder at him rather than the defenseless Dunmer. Just provoking him took a hour."
Uh huh, that's nice, I'm sure you're- WAIT A MINUTE.
"Whaaaat?"
"I know, right? An hour? Normally, a Dremora would jump at you after only one word, but this one clearly had a thick skull. When I kept calling him normal insults like s'wit, he only acted confused. I actually had to lower myself to insulting his mother to get a reaction, which is also strange, given that no daedroth has a mother. He, on the other hand, got all red and screamed something about...Layman Jerkins? The strangest battle cry I've ever heard."
"Not that, earlier! What was that right after the part about the cultist?" asked the Khajiit, while they were climbing the stairs to a higher floor.
"Oh, I was told to stop another self-proclaimed Nerevarine who revealed himself in Suran. A man by the name of Elvil Vidron claimed to be Nerevar reborn. I tried to persuade him to come back to our faith, however he persisted on living in sin. He spoke of prophetic visions and dreams of a man in golden mask..."
Azirra's tail swished to the side in anxiety. That sounded way too close to that one dream she had recently.
"When it had become clear words wouldn't be enough, I attempted to arrest the heretic, however he managed to avoid my attack and escape. It...wasn't exactly a triumph. This dangerous person is still free, even if he no longer poisons the ears of the believers in Suran. If you happen to learn something new about him, let the Temple know, alright? Claiming to be the reincarnation of a saint is a terrible offense even without any other crimes."
Remond Viralas opened a door in front of them and pointed inside.
"Here we are."
The mage entered the hall, followed by the priest. The public library in Vivec consisted of only one room, but there was no denying it was on the larger side. Near the entrance were rows of reading tables, while further in she could see shelves. Besides a few civilians, the library was occupied by a small group of Ordinators and priests. Azirra nearly immediately spotted a woman with copper hair and eyes, standing in the middle.
"Welcome to the library...citizen," said a nearby Ordinator through clenched teeth. Azirra could only guess he had a sneer under that creepy, expressionless mask. "Rules are simple. You can read any book you want as long as its not in the restricted section—for that, you need permission from a high-ranked member of the Temple. Books do not leave the library, you do the reading here or you don't do it at all. Steal a book and there will be violence. Is that clear?"
"Books are worth more than blood, got it." Which was true—a book you could at least sell for two hundred septims.
"Good. I'm watching you," grumbled the guard while turning away. Her sensitive ears easily caught the last remark the Dunmer murmured under his breath. "...Scum."
Azirra glared at the back of his head and walked over to the priestess she assumed was her informant. To her surprise, Remond was already talking with her.
"Strange, isn't it?"
"I agree. When I did that pilgrimmage, the Dremora attacked as soon as I called him 'buckethead'. For a daedra to resist the temptation for so long..."
Azirra decided to wait a little bit until the woman was done talking. To hide her main intention of speaking with her, she approached one of the shelves and started checking the titles.
"'The Real Barenziah', 'Ancient Tales of the Dwemer', 'Palla'... 'Cap'n's Guide to the Fishy Stick'? What in Oblivion...?" she listed some silently and glanced at the last book. She shook her head. Who in the world would write a book about the history of fishy sticks and their impact on the economy of Tamriel? In the end she settled for 'Palla, first volume' and sat at one of the tables. Her ear twitched when she heard giggling.
Huh...so the priests of the Tribunal Temple don't have those kinds of restrictions, thought Azirra when she noticed the ginger Dunmer attempting to smooch the woman, only for her to halfheartedly push him away. One point for Tribunal religion, I suppose.
As soon as Viralas left the library, Azirra stood up and went closer.
"Hello. Are you by chance Mehra Milo?"
The priestess nodded.
"Yes. Who are you?"
"My name's Azirra. Could you help me? I'm searching for a specific book." Not waiting for an answer, the agent leaned closer and whispered: "Caius sent me."
A spark of recognition appeared in Milo's eyes.
"I think I know where to find such a book. Follow me."
A few seconds later they were standing in front of a lectern with a massive book. Azirra placed an empty page on top of it and prepared a quill.
"So...you are one of Caius' friends, but which type?"
The Khajiit hesitated. Just how much should she tell?
"I'm his...subordinate."
"I see. Do not worry, I know he serves the Emperor. We are good friends. Despite being a Westerner he has come to love our land and its people. Just like me, he admires the best traditions of the Temple, such as our charity and education...and the fact we share our distrust of the arbitrary power of the Ordinators only makes our friendship stronger."
"Then I hope we will become good friends as well. From what I heard, the approach of the Temple to other beliefs is a bit...extreme."
"True. The Tribunal tolerates the Imperial Cult, but that's it—any less important religion, no matter how innocent in its foundations, will find itself struggling for survival on this island. The Temple's declining virtues are a threat to Morrowind's political stability...ah, but we're not here to discuss Temple doctrine, are we? What does Caius need this time?"
"Actually, the doctrine of the Temple might be a big part of the subject I need to research. What do you know about the Nerevarine and Sixth House cults?"
[The Exposition train has reached the station! But this time it's not like the original, so try to read it.]
Mehra frowned.
"The Sixth House Cult...sorry, I don't know much about them and certainly not more than others. Its members are the Dunmer who lost their faith in the Tribunal and instead started worshipping the enemy of our faith, the Devil Under the Mountain. Nerevarine, on the other hand? That I can tell you about; it's a hot topic in the Temple, even if it's never openly discussed."
"Great. Where should we start?"
"From the basics, I guess. You're probably aware of this already, but know that Nerevar Indoril after his death was declared a saint and a hero that saved our nation in the darkest moment of our history. The Temple, however, does its best to destroy the heretics speaking of his return. The fact the Nerevarine cults call the Tribunal the false gods isn't helping. However, there is one religious faction that remains in hiding that is standing between the mainstream and Ashlander beliefs: the Dissident Priests. They are former members of the Temple, who dispute the doctrine and Nerevarine prophecies. If you want to learn more about the subject, they are the best direct source—unlike the Temple and Ashlanders, they rely more on sources and proof instead of faith alone."
"Is there a way for me to contact them?"
"I myself am searching for this group; I think I'm close. There's a book they published, 'Progress of Truth', which describes the views of all three sides of the conflict. I'm sure Caius would want to acquire it. I know we have one in the library, but you may find it hard to obtain. Buying it would be difficult as well—the Temple outlawed the possession of 'Progress'."
And here's why the dragon mentioned the bookstore owned by a rebellious member of the Twin Lamps.
"Don't worry, I know someone who either has it or can get it soon enough."
"That's a relief. I really want to help Caius, but I'm afraid I'm being watched by Ordinators."
That got Azirra's attention.
"Will you be alright?"
"Hopefully...but just in case, inform Cosades that if I find myself in trouble, I'll leave behind the codeword 'amaya'."
She nodded. The name of that big lake? Well, there are worse passwords, I guess.
"What would happen if they caught you?"
"Given that I'm working in a public place and as such Ordinators would have to act professional during the arresting, I should be immediately placed in the Ministry of Truth above the canton, in Baar Dau. Until that moment I will be fine. After that... Well, nobody can tell for sure what is going on inside the moon."
Azirra looked worried.
"Why is the Temple so serious about the persecution of the Nerevarine?"
"I never fully understood why we waste so much energy on them. The faithful won't be moved by the proclamations of the Dissidents and the Ashlanders are ignorant savages that lost their entire religious influence many centuries ago. However, since the submission of Resdayn to the Empire, the faith of the Dunmer has weakened. That obviously caused a lot of frustration for the militant wing of the Temple. To put it shortly: since the Ordinators can't fight the Emperor, they will fight with those that can't fight back.
"But do you want to know what I discovered recently? The Dissident Priests claim that the power of the Tribunal may not be divine, but sorcerous in origin, maybe even akin to the one Dagoth Ur commands. If that is indeed the case, then the Temple's attitude to the heretics makes a lot of sense—you see, if the Tribunal's power doesn't come from divinity, then by logic they aren't capable of sustaining the Ghostfence all on their own. Have you ever heard that faith can move mountains? It is much more real than most people realize."
"Are you saying that it's the faith of the believers that powers the only barrier stopping Dagoth Ur from marching all over Vvardenfell?" asked Azirra, completely shocked.
"I don't know, but it makes sense. The Temple does everything to assure people they are strong, that their gods are strong. Anyone that studied the subject of religion knows that any god can become very powerful, no matter their original strength, as long as he obtains enough followers. Since Vivec willingly joined the Empire, many Dunmer no longer have any respect for him. Most members of House Indoril committed ritual suicide after the Armstice was established. Forgotten by their gods, who no longer appear outside of their palaces, seeing the outlanders in their own land, the presence of the Imperial Legion all over the island...in the face of those hardships the faith of the Dunmer falters. This makes the Tribunal weaker, which in turns makes Dagoth Ur grow stronger."
[The exposition train leaves the station.]
"Well, you surely lifted my spirits with that last remark. I guess I'll go finish my other assignments. Thanks for the help."
"Good luck, Azirra. Give Caius my regards, alright?"
"Will do."
Time to go shopping. I wonder how much forbidden books cost?
The book, surprisingly, wasn't as expensive as she thought—merely two hundred and fifty septims (according to Jobasha, doing the very thing that angers the Ordinators was a reward in and of itself). She left all her notes with Huleeya—it just wouldn't do to have them in her raid on the slavers' outpost, someone might damage them (or steal them from her cold, dead body...). Since she still had a few hours, she decided to check her equipment and resources.
She was pleased with the state of her belongings. She had on herself almost one thousand, seven hundred and fifty septims—a fortune for someone more settled and a good starting capital for an adventurer-slash-secret agent. Besides two weapons—an enchanted sword and a Dwemer spear—she had also two sets of clothes (for normal and special occasions) and almost a full set of chitin armor, with the exception of a steel helmet. She had a total of fifteen potion bottles, with five of them being healing ones and six others being capable of restoring her magical reserves. There were three scrolls, one of Taldam's Scorcher and two of vitality. For books, she had 'A Guide to Vvardenfell', 'War of the First Council' (I should return it to Caius next time, she thought), 'A Dance in Fire, vol. 4' and one of the many 'Lessons of Vivec'. She looked at all of them and decided that the last two had to go—she never started reading any series from the middle and she wasn't about to start. As for the words of the living god...Rotheimaak was right, it was gibberish. There were also two used-up spell tomes, no longer enchanted, but in a good enough state to put them back into circulation. She still had forty-five Dwemer coins, which equals over two-thousand and two-hundred septims when sold to a discreet trader or eight years in prison if said trader wasn't discreet. Also, she still had the weapon from that Dunmer that attacked her in the sewers, a steel one at that, so her coin purse was only going to get even fuller. And that's only what she had on herself—back at the Mages Guild in Balmora, in her desk was a steadily growing stock of ingredients, just waiting to be processed in her alembic.
Azirra realized with joy that, even if she barely avoided death on more than one occasion since her arrival to Morrowind, she was actually quickly becoming someone. She wasn't completely sure who exactly, but after being no one for over twenty years she embraced that change.
This is strange, she thought when packing her belongings into the backpack. Back in Cyrodiil I could hardly earn enough septims to not die of starvation, but here I have earned easily several times more than ever before. The only difference was around eighty septims and being in a new place. How come I never achieved anything back in Kvatch?
Maybe the old man was right and it's simply nearly impossible to become rich if you start out poor? The money from the release fee and Caius actually gave me something to build upon...and yet... She frowned slightly as she finished her preparations. I...it somehow feels as if only now I truly started to live and everything before was but a dream. A terrible, terrible dream I no longer have to worry about.
An old memory resurfaced and a tiny smile appeared on her face.
I think Taahna would be proud.
"Azirra, are you alright?" The sudden question brought her back to reality. Jobasha was looking at her in confusion. "For a second, you seemed very distant."
"Oh, it's nothing."
Alright, the time for remembrance is over. Now that I no longer have to worry that much about my coin purse, I should do something about the lack of things to do in my free time.
"Jobasha, I think it's long overdue for me to buy something just because I want it, not because I need it. Say, do you have the book 'Palla'?
She would never admit it to anyone, but she loved bad romance stories. The beginning of the first volume she was reading back at the library was pretty good and while she suspected there was some mystery involved and the romance would become secondary later on, she deemed the book promising.
"Ah, 'Palla'...an interesting choice, that one is. Are you looking for the first or second volume?"
"The second. I intend to finish the first one at the library."
"Anything else?"
"Perhaps something on alchemy or the uses of magic in combat? Could be useful."
Jobasha disappeared behind the corner for a few seconds to return with two books.
"This, right here, is a bestseller in the field of tactics for a wizard, 'The Art of War Magic', written by Zurin Arctus, who was the royal battlemage of Tiber Septim. This one is afraid the book on alchemy for this province isn't as impressive due to the Telvanni's tendency to not share their knowledge and the Mages Guild is still working on a better manual. It does, however, contain a list of ingredients, with tips on how to obtain them, for the most basic potions. If one needs a place to start, this is a good place."
Azirra opened the tactics book to a random page and smiled at the first sentence she found.
"'The best victories are those unforeseen by the enemy, but obvious to everyone afterwards'." She remembered the events at Arkngthand. It probably wasn't what the great mage meant, but still... "I love this. How much for all three?"
"Well, given that you are a friend of Twin Lamps, Jobasha would say six hundred and fifty."
"Six hundred. I'm buying them in bulk, so I should get a discount."
"If Jobasha were to sell them for six hundred, he would make close to no profit—it costs a lot to make a book when everything must be written by hand by a monk. Whatever magic the Black Horse Courier uses is unknown to this one. Six hundred and forty."
"Six hundred and thirty and we have a deal."
"...Fine, two hundred and ten per book it is."
After stuffing all three books and selling 'A Dance in Fire' and 'Lessons of Vivec' for four hundred septims, Azirra left the bookstore and went to the plaza on top of the canton to sell off the unnecessary equipment she obtained. She got a very pretty septim for it—one thousand and one hundred of them, to be exact. The mage was still pretty sure the Redguard blacksmith bought it for much less than it was worth.
Alright, from now on, I will always loot armor whenever possible. This is obviously the key to great fortune.
Said great fortune was becoming too great—she seriously started to think she had way too much money on her. It was time to find a bank or maybe make some secret stashes. Yesss, secret stashes. Every special agent needs a hideout somewhere and a safe location with resources prepared in case of trouble.
At this point, the only thing she had to sell (not counting the Dwemer coins, which she wasn't going to risk) were two used-up spell tomes.
The obvious choice for a buyer was someone from the Mages Guild—an enchanter only had to make a new enchantment to have a fully-working tome once again. As such, she directed her steps to the Mages Guild.
After selling the tomes for four hundred septims (she sadly couldn't buy anything—only those of Conjurer rank or higher were allowed to learn spells from mages at Vivec), Azirra remembered that this very guild hall was home to the Archmage of the Morrowind brand of the Mages Guild. To be honest, she wasn't really planning to get any tasks from him—the mages from Balmora pretty much openly stated that the man was disconnected from reality and had the intelligence of a toddler, with his jobs living up to such expectations.
So, obviously curious about the reasons for such devastating criticism, she decided to see what was he all about.
Once she walked down the stairs and entered the main room, Azirra immediately recognized the bald Imperial sitting on a nearby bench as the Archmage. The signs left no doubt in her mind. One, he was fat, the kind of fat that happens to those who never did honest work in their entire life. Two, his navy blue robe was made of the finest silk, making a clear statement about how nice his salary is. Three, he held a really, really tall shiny staff. No staff is this tall unless it is meant to show who is the boss or if the owner was compensating for something.
She wouldn't be surprised if in this case it was both.
"Good afternoon, sir."
The Imperial glanced at her. Given that back at Jobasha's she had exchanged her travel clothes for elegant robes, she looked just presentable enough to not make a fool of herself.
"Greetings. I believe I haven't seen you before. I am Archmage Trebonius, Guildmaster of the Vivec Mages Guild. Who might you be?"
"This one is Azirra, Apprentice of the Balmora Mages Guild. It is a pleasure to meet you, Archmage." Once again, the Khajiit way of speaking was put to use. "This one wonders, is there perhaps a task you need done?"
Trebonius stroked his pudgy chin—he had no beard to speak of.
"Hmm...a task, you say? Yes, there are several things the Mages Guild needs done. Let's see...hmm...find out why the Dwarves disappeared.. Yes, that's an excellent task for you, Apprentice."
Azirra's jaw dropped. She had expected something strange, but this man was impossible.
"I-I'm sorry, what?" she asked bluntly, not even noticing her slip up.
"It's a simple task, surely. Just go to some ruins and...erm...and find out what happened to them. Maybe some people here in the Mages Guild can give you some clues."
Sweet Mara. This is no mere stupidity. Skooma Cat's influence is strong in this one.
Skooma Cat, or Sheogorath, if you prefer his more popular name, was in a pretty good mood.
Granted, nothing could change as fast as his mood, so it didn't mean much, but the point stands that the Daedric Prince of Madness was rather content at the moment. And why wouldn't he be? The mortals were a bit more interesting these last few days, in no small part thanks to a certain dragon.
"Haskill, remind me to send a gift to my new champion, will you? I think his horns would look lovely with the heads of orphaned Argonians as earrings, don't you agree?"
Haskill, like always, provided only a mere acceptance of his fate as eternal chamberlain to the Mad God and gave an emotionless answer.
"I am certain that you know best, my lord."
"Of course I do! I always do...unless I feel like I don't." With this short exchange over, Sheogorath returned to granting fishy sticks to those mortals that he deemed worthy.
"My lord?" Started Haskill. As incredible as it sounds, he actually seemed interested—something that, rest assured, is about as common as a rain of burning dogs. It wasn't often he questioned his master's thought processes. "Why do you call him your champion? He wields no artifact of yours and doesn't even acknowledge you as his lord."
Sheogorath chuckled. On a completely unrelated note, a certain necromancer in High Rock just died a gruesome death by being squashed under tons of fishy sticks that just appeared in his lair.
"Haskill, Haskill...don't you see? It's like flowers and bees... Or was it badgers? Oh, doesn't matter. The point is, why would my champion need some fancy weapon of mine to act in my name? That's just silly—he's a dragon. And he certainly doesn't need to call me master to work for me. Just look at Vvardenfell! So many boring, sane mortals recently started to question their sanity just because they met my pet dragon. Does it truly matter if he listens if he fulfills his task anyway?"
"That is... a disturbingly sane way of thinking, my lord. Are you alright?"
"Of course I'm not! HE'S TAKING TOO LONG! If he doesn't start working faster, I'll force him to eat the Elder Scroll!" Just as soon as he exploded, the prince calmed down. "It's a good thing the others decided to spice things up. I swear, they can be so boring for aspects of change. I was losing hope in them." He clapped. "With a Daedric Prince after him, my champion should become more desperate. In other words, more entertaining to watch."
Sheogorath reached through time and space and grabbed an eyeball. It remained a mystery who owned it originally.
"Haskill, have you seen my eye spoon?"
"I'm afraid you left it in Meridia's realm during your last visit, my lord."
"Curses! Sent someone there, I need my spoon!"
Haskill sighed soundlessly and teleported away to do his lord's bidding. Another normal day in the Shivering Isles.
Looks like Ted has captured attention of more than one daedric prince... and it's the wrong kind of attention.
If you wonder about the identity of the woman that attacked Azirra in the canalworks, know that she is a guard of a local daedric shrine. As far as I know, there are four such shrines in the sewers of Vivec, one for each Corner of the House of Troubles - a group consisting of Mehrunes Dagon, Molag Bal, Malacath and Sheogorath, who supposedly are really annoyed by the Tribunal's power. For some time I wondered is I should have Azirra investigate the shrine, but the truth is she would be slaughtered - if I were to guess, I would say she's level five right now and in the shrine there were three more cultist, all quite dangerous.
In the next chapter Azirra joins forces with Gih-Deesei to strike another blow against the slavery in Morrowind. Stay tuned... or something like that.
UPDATE: chapter went through proofreading done by JDLENL.