A Dwarf to Remember
Chapter 3: My Mournhold Blues
Ebonheart. One of the first locations the Emperor claimed, in Vvardenfel of course. I found myself within the vicinity of the docks. Instead of wearing my ever-traditional Dwemer armor, I accompanied it with several pieces of cloth tightly wrapped around the pauldron I had left, most of my leggings and my boots. Also, I decided to keep the lower part of my face concealed by the red piece of cloth. Now the only thing, which remained visible, was my dark, shaggy hair and the cuirass. It was easy navigating the ever-vigilant streets of an Imperial town. My face lingered upon every wanted poster, yet I decided not to tear them down for it would bring attention to me. Also, I had to speak in Tamrielic, not Dwemer. This was hard, for I could barely speak the way of the Imperial, alas I managed. Within the extremely crowded plaza, next to the docks, I encountered a small Bosmer. "Would ya' like to buy some armor? Best in Ebonheart." He held up a Nordic cuirass, but placed it back down for he was barely managing to hold it up. Then he held up a Deadric Claymore, but soon found himself dropping it to the ground. My eyes lit up, and I watched him place it back upon the table. "Where did you get that?" I asked, glaring down upon him, my slender digits slowly wrapping around the handle of my Dwarven Dai-Katana. "This puppy's been sold left and right throughout Morrowind, a nice blade, been through some tough battles!" The Bosmer exclaimed. I lifted up the Claymore, easily, with a solitary hand. "I don't think this is a real Deadric Claymore." A malicious grin was soon plastered onto my face. SLAM. I easily broke it against the sidewall. The obviously shotty sword shattered into a thousand pieces, the shards flew right into the water. "You, con me again, or attempt to, and I will ensure that a Cliff Racer is dragging you across the mountains by your vital organs." I snarled, sending my hand to his throat and ramming the small creature into the cobble stone wall. Gurgling lightly, he nodded. "Yessur." He winced, squeezing his large, black eyes shut in agony. Releasing my grip, I crossed my arms and began the interrogation. "Where is the gondolier? I see neither boat nor ship." My voice obviously struck fear into him, and he would reply with the most honest answer. "You see, the last boat left for Mournhold should be here by morning'." He smiled a big bright Jack O' Lantern like smile. Again my eyes lit up.
"Did you say Mournhold? The boats go to Mournhold? ...Last, last I hear the ships were turned away because of the Blight disease! Has, has this changed?" Sadly, I allowed my curiosity to get to me. "Yup! About 90 or so years ago, Nerevar stopped Blight by killing off Dagoth Ur and his minions. Ya' see, Ur was the cause of all the Blight and Corprus nonsense. So now, Vvardenfel ain't sick, and we get our ships everywhere." The Bosmer explained. "Thank you." It was the last I would speak with him, for it was nightfall and I had to wait for the next ship.
As I waited on the small staircase connecting the Plaza to the docks, I found myself dozing off. And eventually, I rested my head against the ground, and traveled into a deep slumber. The amazing and yet lucky thing was no one knew I was Dwemer yet. No one had came to figure that I was the last living threat to the Dunmer people. By the Three, help them. During my peaceful and well-earned nap, a guard kicked me in the back. Rather roughly, too. His savage, steel boot lunging into my spine. Cringing, I sat up. "You may not sleep here, mer." He nodded to me, and then proceeded to speak with me more. "Are you waiting for the ship?" To my surprise, he seemed polite enough, even becoming apologetic for sending his heel into my back. "Yeah, I'm gonna' go to Mournhold and," Pausing, I conjectured whether or not to tell him the truth of my cause. Then again, murdering a God wasn't the most legal of things. Tightening the robe around my face and ensuring that my Dwarven identity was safe in the abyss of my thoughts, I spoke. "Visiting my Dunmer fence there. He's got a good sword sitting idle for me, in the confines of the Mournhold Armory." Ah, I was quite the clever one in deed. Inspecting me suspiciously, the guard continued his questioning. "You don't look like any Dunmer. You're skin is--" When he spoke, I quickly interrupted him. Alibis were quickly conceived in my head. "Burnt. I'm...a burn victim. Bandits raided my home once, in the middle of the Ash lands, I was doing some research for a Telvanni Mage Lord, and they broke into my home. I killed them all, but they burnt me up in the process." Smiling, the Guard crossed his arms. "So your skin comes out that color?" His voice lowered, as if ready to draw his weapon. "Yeah, doctor said it healed in a way he hadn't seen before, but I can understand if you've mistaken me for another race." This was the moment of clarity for the guard, and he nodded. "Carry on." Slowly he treaded off, into the distance, until he was no longer visible. This was genuine proof to me; I needed a masque-helm of some sort, if I was going to make it within Mournhold.
The East Empire Company warehouse! No, no they would not buy my Dwemer armor, for I had also heard it was illegal to sell this. Brahma Gra-Durah's armory! It was a newly added store, because the half-destroyed GRAND OPENING banner was lying at the feet of the door. Opening the large, wooden door, I moved inside to see the Orc, alone, behind the counter. "What can I do ya' for?" He said in a mighty voice. Sighing gently, I removed my left Pauldron and placed it upon the table. "Can I fence this?" My voice seemed to trail off in the following silence. Rubbing his large, green-colored chin, the Orc simply nodded. "I can keep it a secret, but now these things be' worth a lot. I give ya' 60,000 for it." Brahma offered, setting an obese sack of gold on the counter. Lifting it, I dropped another 40 or so back in front of him. "I want the Chitin helm. That covers the face, right?" Whilst questioning him, he took it from the back counter, and dropped the seemingly light helmet in front of me, sliding the gold in his directions. "Yup." Now the Orc carried a smile upon his face, business well done indeed. Grasping upon the sides of the Ash land-made helm, I lowered it upon my head, it would fit on me rather comfortably. And my eyes! They could see right through, yet no one could see them. Yet my nappy hair flowed from the back of it, this may present a small issue, for my people have slightly different hair-styles and hair tones than other. But I would manage. Taking my bag of gold (tying it around my side--of course), it would be now time to wait for the boat. hen the sun rose in the east, I was ready to drop upon the floor and sleep for a million years. But like the Bosmer informed me, the boat arrived. A Nordic woman visible in the front, pointing straight and obviously the captain of the boat. Sighing, I waltzed toward it. And when the Dunmer passengers emptied from the boat, the Nord captain greeted me. "Hello sir!" She smiled. "Or m'am?" The woman chuckled, I didn't. Handing her 300 pieces of gold, I grimly spoke. "Take me to Mournhold." Hopefully, she acquired the message. Most likely, by the time she even realized she had an extra 200 in her hand, I would be huddled in a cot, somewhere in the lower part of the ship.
My sleep, again interrupted! But, I obtained enough to last me my entire stay in this accursed city. "Wake up, sleepy-head." An Imperial woman giggled, poking me lightly, like something was funny about disturbing a Hell-bound Dwarven warrior. Slapping her hand away, I sat up and attempted to cope from my savage awakening. Something was pounding overhead, but it sounded like rain. And when I did arrive upon deck, it was absolutely pouring. Soon my question came to be, why does it rain in all my cities of revenge? No matter. There were High Ordinators guiding the folks off of the vessel, I ceased to see the Nord woman who was kind enough to take me here. It was then that I saw all of the people whom were upon the boat with me, lingering at the base of a massive gate. Several High Ordinators held door shut. "Is this everyone?" One of them asked, as he spotted me stepping off of the blank. "Yes!" Shouted another. With that queue, the gates opened. Inside, it was massive plaza, unlike anything I'd ever seen before. This simply wiped the floor with the one I witnessed at Ebonheart. For in the middle, stood a gigantic statue of Almalexia stabbing with looked to be a Deadric Lord of a sort. Behind me, though, the gates shut rather cruelly. A massive-sounding SLAM sounded out and echoed through most of the area. With that, someone clad in Red Armor stood in front, his helmet concealing his face. "I am the Royal Guard of King Helseth!" He announced, strutting to and fro, as if he meant something to me. "You will abide by the Law of the Temple and of the Emperor and the King himself. Violation will result in hard labor and possibly even death!" He continued to boast, holding his Claymore at his side. My weapon, of course, was allowed with me. For, most inhabitants of Tamriel carried a sword with them. "Now! You are dismissed! Good day!" After he announced our departure, the group broke up. Wandering aimlessly in the Plaza Brinsi Dorom, I eventually found a sign upon a triangular wooden door reading GODSREACH.
Opening the door, and shutting it too, I found myself within a vast maze of mansions and manors. High Ordinators strutted about, carrying the burden of Almalexia upon their shoulders. Rain still wept from the sky, so most of the citizens were indoors, tending to their own needs. Before I launched my glorious attack on the Cathedral where Almalexia dwelled, I needed to discover a place to say. "Excuse me." I approached a Dunmer woman, long, black hair perched on her shoulders. Deep and endless red eyes stared at me for a moment, her Nitch cuirass bearing the signs of battle. "Yes, muthsera?" Her voice was soft and beautiful, soothing in almost a musical way. Yet, my voice was battle-hardened. It was slightly raspy, very deep and even malevolent at times. "Do you know where an Inn is? Possibly even a Tavern?" I asked, watching her in amazement as it seemed the rain didn't even phase her. "I do. I'll be happy to escort you to the precise location, for by the tone of your accent, you are not of this land." She smiled, and lightly took my hand, trotting off into the maze of houses. Eventually she took me up some stairs, across a walkway and beside a building. On the side of the building, a sign red THE WINGED GUAR. "Here you are, sera. Please, have a pleasant stay within these blessed walls." She said, luring me into a trance, mostly of shock to the fact that a Dunmer woman could actually be that beautiful and that eloquent. I pondered whom she was. A common woman could not speak, look or even dress like she! No matter. Grasping the doorknob to the Inn, I stepped into the confines. To my disappointment, it was a bustling Tavern, ridden with drunks. Heading downstairs, I took a seat at the bar. "Would ya' like something to drink, drifter?" An Altmer woman asked me from behind the counter. "No." I looked up at her for a moment, then continued staring back down at the counter. I wasn't tired, in any way. I could attack Almalexia, I knew I was ready, she wasn't heavily guarded. "Actually, some Flin would be nice." I said, shattering the silence and dropping 100 dollars worth of gold upon the counter. It was only a few moments before a Peach Glass of Flin was in front of me, the top foaming lightly. Embracing it between my fingers, I lifted the glass from the counter and consumed the liquid. Now, I acquired what most would call a "buzz." Sitting from my stool, I walked back upstairs, back outside, and toward a door that read TEMPLE.
On the exterior of the temple, many High Ordinators walked back and forth, guarding it with their lives. Heading up the main flight of stairs to the enormous doors, a guard stopped me. "What business do you have in the Temple, stranger?" He asked in his raspy Dunmer accent. "I am here to pray to Almalexia, the Healing Mother of this land." Hopefully, this explanation would pass. "Very well, but the Hands of Almalexia have just shifted. And if you dare anger the Hand, she will not hesitate to murder you." The guard now allowed me within. Opening widely, the two double doors revealed a small office, behind the desk was a substantial wooden door. A High Ordinator stood on each side, an old Dunmer woman lurking around the wooden table, shifting books around as she stepped all over the green rug. Moving to the wooden door, the High Ordinators opened them for me, saying simultaneously "You are granted aces to pray to the Healing Mother." But as I entered the gargantuan room, those doors slammed behind me. Within Almalexia's chamber, candles lit the room brightly in a dark blue sensation. Pillars outlined the large circular middle of the room, a small set of stairs leading up to the mighty chair that the Goddess sat in. Beside the seemingly on fire Almalexia, stood her Hand, watching me carefully. "You are not of the Dunmer." The Goddess said as I entered. "Indeed I am not, for I am the Dwarf to remember." Smiling beneath my Chitin mask, I paused at the beginning of the stairs. "I have been expecting someone to arrive, for the Tribunal's power is decreasing. Vivec is dead, is he not?" Like the woman I met at the Inn, Almalexia spoke in a way that hypnotized me. True womanly beauty. "Yes, I murdered him upon the steps of his very palace." And with my statement, she clapped. "You've destroyed the power of ALMSIVI, for I am the only one left. Sotha Sil died ninety years ago, at my hand." She seemed rather proud of murdering her comrade, I can see why they accused her of going insane with power. "You are next, Almalexia! You will be the final one on my list, and I'll be complete. Both Vivec and you will pay for all of eternity for banishing my people!" I shouted in anger, almost loosing control of myself in the rage. "Haha! You think it was I and the Tribunal who banished your people? It was--" Again, like Vivec's explanation, I had enough of it. Unsheathing my blade, she ceased to speak and went quiet. "Hand Flera, dispose of this rodent." For some reason, after the cruel Goddess spoke, the Hand hesitated. She, clad in Blessed High Ordinator Armor, stared at me for a long moment. The silence, though, was cut by the sound of her blade unsheathing.
Removing Aldo from it's hiding space, I held my Dai-Katana in front of me. Stepping toward Flera, a nefarious grin. She ran at me, screaming as she rose the Saber in the air, making a daring slash in my direction. CLING. I rose my blade, blocking it with ease and with one hand. "Impossible!" She cried. Pushing my sword in her direction, she stumbled back for moment. This was before she swung the blade in my direction, again I simply blocked it with a solitary hand, yet it nearly broke my wrist. Grabbing on my handle with both hands, I took a swing at her. Sparks flew upward, like I was carving into something with a saw. Her left pauldron fell to the floor--broken. Blood seemed to fly from her shoulder, yet she continued coming! Relentless protection for her mistress, I dare say. Once more she took a vicious swing towards me, but it was inevitable that I blocked against her attack. This had to end. Now. Kicking her roughly in the stomach, I decided to perform my trademark move and attempt to thrust the blade into her stomach. "No! No!" She whaled and leaped backwards. My blade did not reach it's assigned target, but ripped through the front of her thigh, directly through the holy armor. "Ah! Aaaaah!" Cries of womanly agony escaped from the mouth piece of her helm. Slowly falling to her knees, Flera looked up to me. "Why have you done this?" And suddenly, her voice was familiar. Gripping on the top of her mask, I savagely pulled it from her skull and recognized her--from the Inn. In shock, I watched bits of blood seep down her chin as tears rolled down her eyes. "You!" I shouted in anger. "You dare!" Holding my sword against her soft, swan-like neck--I destructively ripped it through. Rolling across the floor, her head left behind a long, skinny trail of blood.
Almalexia watched calmly, crossing her arms and standing. "If Nerevar were here, you'd be dead." She stated, scowling as she began to cross the room in my general direction. "Sadly, his incarnation decided not to be a God. And died. His tomb in his here in Mournhold, but in King Helseth's palace." Added the Goddess, stopping in the middle of the circular chamber. "How old is this Helseth? If he knew the incarnate, I mean." I questioned, breathing softly and tightly holding my dripping blade. "He's about 113, for he was quite young when he became the King. Yet a seemingly perfect health has kept him alive." She explained, the scowl from her face ever still and lacked all movement. Nodding, I stepped up from the small staircase and spoke. "Do we end this now?" My questioned made her smile, and she nodded. "You have proven to be the better of us two, and I will allow you to attack me, yet I will attack back." When the challenge was over, I was off. Loud yet quick footsteps sounded across the room, holding my sword out, I charged her. Screaming a wickedly infernal battle cry, the Healing Mother gasped. She held her hand out, in an attempt to block the sword with her palms to prevent me from impaling her. Though her plan failed miserably. I, instead, shot to the right and ran my sword across her neck. Blood seeped out in a spray-like manner, much like when I murdered her Hand. Just as quick as I slit her throat, I turned around and roughly brought my sword downward on her back, more of her Godly blood spurting out of her. Soon Almalexia was on all fours, panting and begging for my mercy. "How--can this be? I am a Goddess! An immortal!" Her words were cut off, soon. With both of my mighty hands I rose my blade above her. Squeezing the handle tightly, I gathered strength within myself. They razor-tip of my sword tore through her back. Crying in pain, Almalexia could barely discover the strength to keep her balance. Again I ripped the blade from another body, followed by a fountain of her red liquid. A solitary gaping hole sat in her back, before she fell to the ground in a puddle of her own blood--dead.
Keeping the will to fight, I sheathed the blood-stained sword and placed my helmet back upon my skull. Opening only one of the large doors, I shut them just as quick and almost instantly left the Temple. Outside, I found another type of adversary waiting for me. Azura, the Deadra of the Night sky. Smiling, the Deadric menace looked to me. "You've fulfilled the task of eliminating the rest of the Tribunal. Thank you. But now, you must join the rest of your people in Oblivion, in a prison, before the Royal Guard come." She told me, hovering lightly above the ground in a specter's way. "How do the Royal Guards know of your actions. By your accent, the Ordinators and several citizens reported that you were a Dwarf." Azura said, to my absolute shock. Suddenly, it was clear to me. Almalexia, Vivec--they were innocent! It was Azura who put my people into their eternal damnation! It was this morbid and grotesque excuse for a God who threw my people into Oblivion! Growling, I unsheathed my blade and ran it across Azura's translucent figure. To my surprise, she didn't flinch, only watched with amusement. "You are a fool. I am nothing more than a spirit, do you think I would allow my true from to come before you?" With that, she disappeared. A misty fog was left behind, yet soon wiped out by the rain. Standing in shame for a long five minutes, about nine Royal Guardsman arrived and surrounded the stair-case. One of them, the one in the middle, lifted his cross bow and aimed it in my direction. "Stand ready!" He called, the rest of those Guardsman un-holstering their Crossbows. Lifting the mask from my face, I watched them all in disgust. My entire cause, a set up? Years of planning, destined? And, my life, just...a game? And I the pawn! Tears swelled up in my eyes as I looked to the gray Heavens. "Here I come, Dumac." I stated quietly, referring to the Dwarven General. I spent so long in vacation in the out worlds, almost spanning three eras! It was my fault I did not go down with my brethren. Now, I pay. "Fire!" The cruel voice sent a chill into me. Soon enough, I looked down to see nine arrows lunging in my direction. Piercing my body, the arrows sent me to the ground. Each of them stuck up from my body, resembling spikes. A pool of blood developed behind me, engulfing me in it's embrace. Releasing the grip from Aldo, it slid from my hand. Before it all went black, I got to see the sun, for the first time, in this whole ordeal.
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