Part 2 Dragons
Chapter 10
The Old Armiger
XxXxXx
Vivec City 3E 427
Nevano ran along the canal streets as fast as he possibly could, jumping over market carts and shoving people aside. Behind him a horde of very angry Ordinators charged after him, easily cutting a swath through the crowd he previously had to fight his way through. Clenched in his hand was a parting present from Crassius Curio: a wanted poster with his name and a rough sketch of his face. Wanted for... well he wasn't really certain. He hadn't been very certain of anything since being let loose in Seyda Neen. For being a heretic? Probably. Caius Cosades hadn't been joking when he said the priests of the Tribunal were humorless bastards.
"Get back here you sacrilegious n'wah!"
"Sorry!" Nevano called over his shoulder as knocked over a display of short swords in their way, ignoring the outraged squawk from the merchant, "I'll have to take you up on your offer of hospitality at a later date!"
Really, he needed to get a filter between his brain and his mouth. He wasn't doing himself any favors being a complete smartass to temple guards armed to the teeth. Just to prove this point, a spear grazed over his shoulder. Nevano yelped. These guards were INSANE! If they were willing to put innocent citizens in danger by throwing a SPEAR in a CROWD then he needed to shake them and quickly.
More spears flew after him. He bolted into the waistworks of the Foreign Canton and darted down as many hallways as he could. Unlike outside, he didn't knock over any displays. He didn't want to leave an obvious trail. Dodging people he ran out of the waistworks on the other side of the canton and ran for the bridge connecting the cantons to the mainland. He took a quick glance over his shoulder as he rounded the corner by the Hlaalu canton, trying to see if his pursuers had made it outside yet. He might stand a better chance jumping off the side and swimming for shore and losing them once and for all out in the wilderness. He was willing to risk getting bitten by a few slaughterfish at this point. Nevano was so busy looking behind him he didn't see the Ordinator in front of him. He slammed full into the much taller mer's back and fell flat, the air knocked clean from his lungs.
The Ordinator turned and looked at him. Bright red eyes studied him from beneath the mask and unlike the other Ordinators chasing him, there was no burning rage or hate; just mere curiosity. "So you're the one they're after; the Nerevarine." He murmured, more to himself than to the scared mer on the ground in front of him. He looked up sharply as shouts echoed off the cantons, "Get up."
"What?"
"Get. Up." A strong grip grabbed Nevano's upper arm and hauled him to his feet and shoved him behind a pillar. "Stay still and stay quiet."
Nevano had no choice but to obey the strange order. He slid to the ground and curled himself into as small a ball as he possibly could. With as much weight as he had lost in the past few months he was practically invisible, a small blip in the shadows. Nevano angled himself just slightly so that he could catch a glimpse of the voracious pack, absolutely bristling with weapons and tempers, stormed right up to their tall stoic brother.
"Veleth, have you seen the heretic?" The one in front demanded.
"Would I be standing here if I did?" Nevano's savior growled, "If you lost him out here then you should probably be in the water looking for him rather than asking me stupid questions."
"We're going to block off the bridge to the mainland." The first Ordinator growled back, "Go patrol and keep watch for him."
"I know my job." The one called Veleth responded cooly, "It seems you should remember yours. Throwing spears into a crowd will not endear us to the public. We are pretty well hated already."
"You watch your tongue!" Another Ordinator stepped forward, ruby sparks fairly spitting from behind the mask, "Our job is to preserve the faith NOT babysit citizens!"
"You are of the Order of the Watch NOT the Order of the Inquisition!" Veleth barked, "Or do I need to tell Berel Sala that you simply cannot uphold your oath to protect the law and law-abiding citizens and should be re-assigned to backwater swamp in the middle of nowhere with only mudcrabs for company? Go find your heretic. I doubt that pathetic creature will even gain a flicker of notice from Vivec."
"You better watch yourself, Veleth." The first Ordinator warned quietly, "I doubt you disappearing will gain a flicker of interest from Vivec either,"
The pack moved off and Veleth watched after them, "You can come out now."
Nevano stood carefully, watching the temple guard for any sign of aggression. Veleth stood easily, his arms crossed over his chest despite just being threatened publicly by members of his own faction. Nevano felt pretty safe in thinking this Ordinator was unlike any other.
"Why?"
Veleth didn't answer. Instead he grabbed Nevano's arm and began leading him back through the city, taking canals and cutting through cantons away from the frantic searchings of the other Ordinators. He didn't answer any of Nevano's stammered questions nor did he release his arm from that iron grip. He just kept up his silent determined march until they made it to the southern end of St. Delyn Canton. They came to one of the many nondescript doors on the bottom level where the Ordinator produced a key, unlocked the door and shoved Nevano through.
"Jorun what is going on... who is this?"
Nevano looked up to see a stunningly beautiful Dunmer woman watching him with her head tilted curiously. She didn't look particularly bothered that a fully armed Ordinator had just tossed a thin, exhausted, sketchy looking mer into her home. Had Nevano been in her position he would have beaten the pitiful creature with a rolling pin until it ran out of the house. So she reached for something on a shelf, he flinched back, fully expecting something to fly at his face.
"Woah, it's ok." She said gently, holding up a small healing kit, pity flickering in her red eyes, "Jorun what happened?"
The Ordinator pulled his helmet off, running a hand through his dark hair, "This is that heretic they've been making noise about for a while. Those fools are all frothing at the mouth and barking. It'll be safer for him here. They don't want to bother with me."
"Oh you poor boy." She went over and began fussing over the young mer, tutting over how thin he was and making disapproving noises over the dirt engrained in his skin from months fighting through the wilderness. Then she came to the cut on his shoulder, "This will need to be stitched but first we need to get some food in you."
Nevano flinched back then checked at his own actions. What had he become? He had been confident and sure of himself just six months ago back in Cyrodiil. Now he was afraid of his own shadow. He could barely take the kindness of strangers when once he had been rather social. He took a deep shuddering breath, trying to quell his nerves.
"There you go, outlander." Veleth had taken off his weapons belt and put it with his helmet on a side table, "We aren't going to hurt you. I sure as hell won't arrest you."
"Why?" Again he asked that damned question. Morrowind had this annoying habit of never answering "why". It was either half answers or lies. Getting the full truth was very rare. But right now he desperately needed the full truth to "why". His shot nerves simply couldn't take any more.
The tall powerful Dunmer sat down, running his hand through his hair again, "To be honest, I don't know. I'm bound by my oath to the Temple to but...it doesn't feel right."
A steaming bowl of aromatic stew and a hunk of bread were placed in front of the skinny mer, distracting him nicely. His mouth watered. How long had it been since he had last had a hot meal without snarling down an equally hungry nix hound? Speaking of nix hounds, he could smell heavily spiced nix hound meat. His stomach gave a loud growl.
"Eat. You're as skinny as a scrib." Nevano didn't need anymore urging. He dug in with gusto.
"My wife Drelasa." the Ordinator smirked at the younger mer's borderline rude table manners, "My name is Jorun Veleth, not the most devout of the Ordinators of the Temple."
"I'm Nevano." he said between bites, "How does a Dunmer with a Nord name end up a Ordinator?"
"I could ask how a small, skinny outlander ended up as one of the most controversial heretics in history." Jorun grinned, revealing a sense of humor not common among Ordinators. "My father was a bit obsessed with history. He named me after Jorunn the Skald-king. I won't bore you with the history lesson..."
"Wasn't he the High-King that drove back the Akavir and brought the first Nordic army into Morrowind since the War of Red Mountain?"
"Ah and the heretic has a brain!"
"If I had half a brain I probably wouldn't be here...small and skinny, I'm just short! Skinny because I've done nothing but run from you Ordinators and just about everything else on this island." Nevano grunted, "As for the heretic part, I grew up in Cyrodiil. Stories about the Nerevarine were a bedtime story for children. I knew about it, knew about the Tribunal and knew about a 'devil in the mountain' but I went about my life as a fighter in the Fighters Guild thinking it was just...stories. It was a matter for those with more power than me. I had my life and my problems, they had theirs. Six months ago I was arrested on a made up charge, exiled here without so much as a trial or even a second glance and told I was going to play puppet for the empire in this little prophecy."
"So now it's MY turn to ask YOU why." Jorun leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms, "If they turned you loose, you've obviously had many opportunities to run. Why not take it and leave this behind? Why continue, why be the Nerevarine?"
Nevano shrugged, "Strike me down with lightning but from the way I see it the Tribunal screwed up. They had plenty of time to fix things but they either didn't or they failed. Things are so far out of their control that divine intervention won't do shit any more. The past six months I've seen people suffering. Ashlanders and city mer alike are suffering and dying. I saw a little Ashlander girl get caught in the ash storms a moment too long and... well I know how bad corprus can be and I wish with all my being I could have just saved that little girl. I hate seeing innocents dying due to some so-called powerful person's mistake. So if one mortal mer can do better than three gods, so be it."
"And that's why I didn't arrest you."
"You'll lose your job..."
"So be it." Jorun repeated as he stood up and buckled his weapons belt back on and picked up his helmet, "My family always believed in doing the right thing. We always had a knack for being in the right place at the right time for the right people. If you are the one to kill Dagoth Ur then I'll happily rub that in those idiots' faces while throwing my helmet at them. In a few days it'll be safe enough to get you out of Vivec City. Stay here and rest up, Nevano. Azura knows you're going to need it."
"I don't think I'll be able to repay this kindness..."
"Oh that's easy. Save the world. I'll call it even then."
Jorun laughed as he went out the door, dodging the piece of bread Nevano threw at him.
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Blacklight, Morrowind 4E 201 Rain's Hand
Captain Veleth hid his relief as the faint outline of Blacklight rose on the horizon. A solid week of sailing was not the captain's idea of a good time. Though the sailors had called the crossing calm, there had been more than one instance where he had to use all his considerable will to keep his stomach from crawling up his throat. Some Dunmer were just not made to be on water.
"It was my father who had the sailing blood in his veins. My mother, the Lady of Maar Gan, was from a inland town." First Councilor Lleril Morvayn came up to stand next to the captain, "So I was rather surprised when she made the decision to cross the sea to Solstheim. To her, water was a precious commodity but a hazardous one. Any sizable body of water attracted dangerous creatures, not to mention what lived UNDER the water. As a result, most Dunmer would rather brave the ash storms then make a life on water."
"Heavy armor and water don't mix."
The rest of the journey passed quickly. There was no long wait to the harbor this early in the morning fortunately. The city of Blacklight itself was set back inland, about an hour hike from the shore to the city center, almost right in the center of the left arm of Morrowind's mainland. With the Inner Sea to the east, the Sea of Ghosts to the north, the Veloth Mountains to the west and many chokehold points to the south, Blacklight was a well defended city, a welcome relief to the many refugees.
But it was not a haven. That was instantly apparent the moment Veleth stepped off the boat with the councilor. Dock workers were tense and captains stayed with their ships, glaring at anyone getting too close. They were protective, defensive really. Many weren't even letting their crew too far from the ship, which was incredibly odd. Veleth, from his experience leading soldiers, knew that giving men leave was good for morale and kept them happy and willing to work hard. There was only one reason why an officer would keep his men close: to protect them. There wasn't much that could scare a sea captain but Veleth had a pretty good idea just what had them so upset.
When Blacklight became the capital of Morrowind and had begun its ascension into glory, a wall had been constructed around the harbor, effectively funneling all traffic, and all cargo, through one main gate. It helped keep track of commerce, kept errors on imports and exports low and effectively put a leash on the black market. It SHOULD have been a good thing and most Dunmer should have accepted it without much fuss. Except that the wall was ordered, built and managed by the Thalmor. The fact they had named it the Justicar Wall was particularly offensive. The entire harbor was under Thalmor control and there wasn't a damn thing anyone could do about it. Except raise absolute hell, which did absolutely nothing.
As they approached the gate, Veleth felt himself tensing. The main gate was set in the thick wall, the sides closing in so that no one could escape Thalmor notice, or run. The captain did NOT like feeling flanked by hostile forces, especially not by forces he didn't have a lot of experience fighting. He had made his career in fighting off the continued attacks from the Argonians in southern Morrowind early in the fourth era. After about a hundred years or so of fighting and promotions, he had suffered a grievous injury that had resulted in being reassigned to Raven Rock after councilor Morvayn had repaired the Bulwark. It initially was supposed to only be until he had recovered enough to resume active military duty but he had done such a good job that no one wanted to remove him. Surprisingly, he had been in full agreement with them and wished to stay. He had spent the Great War years in Solstheim, though he doubted he would have gone to Cyrodiil to fight against the Thalmor anyway. A few Dunmer had gone in defense of the empire but the majority had stayed in Morrowind, trying their hardest to protect their homeland.
"If you glare any harder you're going to set the entire harbor on fire." the councilor noted wryly.
"Maybe it'll melt the wall instead."
"That will certainly make you a hero in Blacklight." Morvayn said, "Just don't get detained by the Thalmor. We do not have much time to dally."
Veleth nodded, focusing on the gate ahead. Four Thalmor soldiers, two on each side, stood at attention on either side of the gate. They gave the heavily armed and armored captain more than a passing glance as he went by and the look wasn't very friendly. At the gate itself was a weedy Thalmor wizard holding a thick scroll. He tried, and failed, to give a sincere smile as they approached.
"Ah, Councilor Morvayn. I thought I heard that the archmaster wanted to see you." The gate master said, "How is Raven Rock doing these days?"
"As strong as the island itself."
Veleth had to really resist the urge to grind his teeth. It was that thinly-veiled polite nothing he hated about politics. He was a soldier. He spoke bluntly and honestly. This form of speech, where the words meant something but also meant nothing at the same time, was a waste of time and energy.
"Ah and Modyn Veleth, captain of the Redoran guard in Raven Rock yes?" The gate master's eyes bored into Veleth's, looking for any sign of weakness to exploit, "I'm surprised that you came along. How is that old injury?"
Indignant anger bloomed in his gut. The sheer NERVE of the insolent little fetcher! "I was under the impression you were a gate guard, a doorman." Veleth said quietly, enjoying seeing the Thalmor's eyes narrow, "I'm surprised you were even entrusted with that sort of information. Now be a good little door man and open the gate."
"Why you..."
"Gentlemen, I'm afraid we don't have time for petty squabbles." Councilor Morvayn interjected as the four soldiers tensed up, hands gripping their weapons a little tighter, "The Archmaster is not a patient mer and we do not want to risk his disapproval."
"THIS is not over yet, WELP." The gate master glared full on at the captain, "And there won't be a thing your crazy father can do about it."
Anger sparked into rage. If this s'wit thought for a SECOND that Veleth was snot-nosed child who used his father's position as head of the guard in Blacklight then he'd post the fetcher's head on a pike! Before Veleth could return the threat in kind, Morvayn gave a warning cough, effectively halting the verbal exchange before it could come to physical blows. "Let's be off. Archmaster Ramoran is waiting on us."
Bristly with irritation the captain followed the older mer to a waiting carriage that would take them to the city.
"I think I should give you lessons on political finesse." Morvayn said as they settled in, "Or else you might get into a fight with every Thalmor in Blacklight before we leave."
"I want to know how they got that sort of information." Veleth growled, "That injury was from before the Great War, well over 30 years ago."
"Modyn they have access to everything. We can't stop them from rifling through things from before the war. They know pretty much everything. They're nosy little fetchers. Despite that note being coded they knew we were coming. The fact that they knew YOU were coming is what is concerning me." The councilor steepled his fingers, "I was the one who requested you come along, not the archmaster. When we get back to Raven Rock, I think we need to conduct an investigation into uprooting a traitor. Again"
The captain grunted his assent. He hadn't been there for the first assassination attempt on the councilor but Second Councilor Adril Arano had filled him in on that. Multiple times. Each time in greater, more exaggerated detail. Actually Veleth wasn't even sure WHAT had happened because according to Morvayn the culprits were stopped with plenty of time and hung while Arano insisted it was an invading army mounted on the backs of dragons that destroyed half of Raven Rock in less than 5 seconds. Still, he would find a way to root out any sort of traitor in HIS town.
"Until then, please refrain from rising to the bait." Morvayn said, "They tossed it out and you swallowed it whole. I need you walking free not in Thalmor custody. I don't think I can bail you out."
"Yessir."
"Good. On that note, I have a job for you. Actually its the whole reason I brought you along."
"Councilor?"
"I let you and everyone else think I brought you along as the captain of the guard to protect me in the city." Morvayn smiled, "Not true at all. I brought you because I want you to find your father and I want you both to listen in on this meeting." The councilor grinned broadly as the very undemonstrative mer in front of him nearly fell out of his seat.
"You want me to what again?"
"Find your father and listen in on this meeting."
"Why in Azura's name do you want me to do that?" Shock had completely stripped him of his usual polite formality, letting all of the blunt coarseness of a soldier come through.
Morvayn just chuckled, "I have my reasons." Political reasons, something he knew Veleth wasn't really interested in. No one would suspect two soldiers, one with a reputation for being blunt as an ox and the other as an old eccentric, to be spies. But he wasn't trying to further himself as was normally the case in the tumultuous Dunmer politics. No, he wanted those two informed to further Morrowind herself along. "Now, you'll have about half an hour after I make it to Rootspire to find your father and get back before the meeting begins. I think that's more than enough time."
Veleth agreed. What else could he do? He was being sucked into the political game, something he had desperately hoped to avoid.
"How is that old injury by the way?"
"My left kidney lets me know when a snowstorm is coming."
The remainder of the trip was spent in a comfortable silence. Veleth was glad for it really. It gave him plenty of time to think about what he had gotten sucked into. Well, even though it wouldn't be high on his lift of things he would like to do, he would give it his all like he always did. He just hoped he could handle the political field.
Blacklight had always been a stately city. After it became the capital of Morrowind, its grandeur grew. It had grown in an odd shape; where most cities grew north and south or east and west in a uniform growth or conformed itself along a natural water supply Blacklight was in a giant circle that grew in a sweep reminiscent of a comet. Rootspire sat in the southeast from the city and the main road arched up to the north gate from there. Surrounding Rootspire was all military and political ministries. Then the market districts arched from the main gate to the south to the eastern side of the city. The remaining arcs were purely residential. In the dead center of the city the Dunmer had created a shrine to the deadra and the saints, with a statue of Azura in the center. The Thalmor had tried to take it down but things had gotten so heated and riotous that the Thalmor had let it go. The temple was a massive building, combining Indoril and Redoran architectural styles that put even Almalexia's old temple in Mournhold to shame. It was here at the temple that the captain as let out.
Captain Veleth knew Blacklight like the back of his hand. He had been born here and had grown up in this exact area. He could have easily have walked this route with his eyes closed and not missed a step. No matter how reluctant he was, his feet would always take him straight back to his childhood home. The same little house with a distinct Indoril style door.
He raised his hand to knock but the door opened before he could. In the doorway was an old mer but still tall and powerful, especially in his own set of bonemold armor.
"Father."
XxXxXx
A/N: I've decided to go ahead and post every chapter I have written up thus far. I have a week long trip planned coming up and I know I'm going to be busy getting ready to leave and, while I'll have the opportunity to write while I'm off, my laptop is so old I actually can't access on it anymore. Hopefully when I get back I'll have a chapter or 2 for yall. So happy reading!
Now that I got that out of the way, I have to say I adored Captain Veleth. That freaking accent man. As soon as I met him in the game I instantly knew how he would be played in this. Also I had to create...well most things about Blacklight. In game information, and all other sources of lore, said that Vvardenfell exploded and the southern half was Argonian fodder. It barely scratches on who and what survived. This unwritten lore is my playground.
