Morrowind is owned by Bethesda. Yay for plotlike things happening. - D
Winterbell and Marayan wasted no time crossing the Odai to talk to Nine-Toes. Winterbell pointed out her new house and they asked around for the Argonian's address. Their inquiries revealed that Mr. Toes, as one client referred to him, was a skooma dealer. Marayan seemed slightly affronted when Winterbell asked if Hlaalo did sugar, and pointed out that practically everyone on this side of the river was involved in some kind of legally dubious activity, including Winterbell herself. Winterbell suggested mildly that he was overgeneralizing, but didn't deny it.
Nine-Toes lived in a small house typical of those in that vicinity. Cramped, drab and cheap. As it turned out Nine-Toes was home, and while rather puzzled at the visit, did not seem worried as he ushered the mages inside.
Winterbell started things off by asking the Argonian if he had known Hlaalo.
"Oh yes," he replied, "he asked me to help him with his research for the House."
"What kind of research?"
"The skooma trade, naturally. Nine-Toes knows a little about these things."
"So you're a dealer then?" Marayan said rather accusingly. The Argonian spread his hands,
"Not so much as a profession, no. Nine-Toes leaves that sort of thing to more well-connected people and just does favours for friends."
"I take it you've heard about his death then?" Winterbell resumed questioning.
"I would have to be living with the Ashlanders if I didn't. It is a terrible shame, I did warn him."
"Warn him about what?"
"About some of the well-connected people he was investigating. They do not take kindly to these things, and no amount of family titles will intimidate them."
"Who?"
"Nine-Toes does not want to talk about these people. As much as he liked taking with Ralen, he does not wish to meet him again so soon."
"You're a murder suspect, you could clear your name."
"I would rather live with a dirty name than die with a clear one. I will tell you this however, I know they've locked the witness up, but her guards may tell you something."
"It all sounds rather suspicious to me. This talk of mysterious well-connected people." Marayan was not impressed with the Argonian's explanation. Winterbell was far more lenient,
"I'm surprised we got as much out of him as we did. I think he feels Hlaalo's death is partly his fault."
"So you believe him?"
"Until I hear something to disprove his story, yes."
"Talk to the guards then. How do we know who the guards are?"
Winterbell grinned slyly, "We have one name; Ethasi Rilvayn."
Marayan looked horrified, "Wha, what do you expect me to do?"
"You did imply you were at least passing acquaintances. It shouldn't be too difficult to talk to her."
"She kills people for a living."
"And I have been known to kill them for free. I'm not asking you to seduce her, for Sheogorath's sake, we just need some information. Tell her your famous brother has shown an interest in the case or something."
"Seduce? Winterbell, where do you come up with these ideas?"
Marayan finally agreed to go. Winterbell winked and told him not to change out of his armour. He scowled at her.
Marayan came about a couple hours later looking rather dazed. He ran his hand through is hair,
"It's been years since I've tried anything like that." He murmured. Winterbell boggled at him. He noticed her expression and flushed right to the tips of his ears. "I didn't mean like that!" he snapped, "I was talking about speech-craft, diplomacy. All that stuff I had to learn years ago and thought I had successfully forgotten. Especially the bit about bribes."
Winterbell chuckled evilly, "All right, I believe you. Thousands wouldn't. Did you learn anything useful?"
"We're looking for a Dunmer with spiky red hair, an axe and bonemould armor, according to the superior of the person looking after the witness anyway."
"Sound like anyone you know?"
"No."
"Time to ask around then."
By late afternoon they returned to the Eight Plates to compare notes. Winterbell wrote down a short list of possible suspects and their professions.
"Thanelen Velas." Winterbell said with satisfaction. "I'll put money on him being our man."
"Why?"
"He's a Cammona Tong thug. We know that Hlaalo was researching the skooma trade, presumably with an eye to slow it down, and the Cammona Tong is very big in the trade. There's your motive."
"The Cammona Tong wouldn't do this."
Winterbell raised an eyebrow, "Why not? Despite their claims to be 'legitimate businessmen' it's an open secret that they're a crime syndicate."
"They wouldn't kill a Hlaalu nobleman. They wouldn't."
"I don't see why not. Everyone knows that the magistrate is in their pocket. They can do practically anything they want. Especially on the North side of the river."
"No. I don't trust that Argonian. It could all be a set up."
"A set up? Dren, what kind of idiot would try and set up the Cammona Tong? That's like...I don't know," Winterbell cast about for an example, "canvassing the Telvanni for donations for the Temple or something."
"Since you're obviously not open to other suggestions." Marayan stood up to leave. Winterbell stared at him,
"What has gotten into you? We have a witness and a motive and all you can say is 'they wouldn't do that'. I don't know what kind of firepetal tinted world you live in..." she trailed off, still staring in disbelief. Marayan set his jaw but said nothing. Winterbell threw up her hands,
"You know what? Fine. You go back to the Mage's Guild and your robe. I'm going to finish this." She stood up and stalked out.
Marayan caught up with her opposite the pawnbrokers. He looked angry and just a bit frightened. Winterbell raised her eyebrows to indicate that she was listening, for now.
"You can't go in there. It's nearly dark. It's dangerous, you don't know what they're like. They hate outlanders."
"That's a bit rich coming from you. Look, I've spent most of my life in Cyrodil. I know how these crime gangs work and what they're like. I'm not going to charge in like I'm the law. I'm just going to have a look around, that's all."
Marayan did not look convinced, "If there's trouble-"
"Call the guard. I don't want heroics from you. You're a mage, remember? Besides," she winked, "with a bit of luck they won't see me at all."
Her hand clasped an amulet around her neck, and with a swirl of magicka she faded from sight.
Marayan fretted as he wandered around the Stilt-Strider docks. Every few seconds his gaze swept the Council Club entrance. Suddenly he flinched as something struck him on the back of his head. He glared and looked around, but couldn't see anyone. It wasn't until another rock flew past his ear that he saw a mostly-transparent Winterbell standing near the entrance to the armorer's.
"I wasn't about to materialize in front of the club." Winterbell said, by way of explanation. She looked rather stressed and jumpy, but had made it out without being seen. She carried a large leather-bound folio under her arm. Marayan's heart sank.
"Is that what I think it is?" He pointed to the object. Winterbell shoved it into his hands,
"You tell me." She said. "If it is it's not completed, it's just a lot of messy notes."
Marayan flicked through the pages, his expression grim. He sighed,
"This is it all right. This would have been his biggest report yet."
"So you agree that Velas is our man?"
"Yes. I just..." he trailed off and stared out into the gathering dark.
"Why is this bothering you so much? Do you know Velas?"
"No. I don't know him from Vivec. I thought I knew about the Cammona Tong, that's all."
"Well, I assume you'll want to take this to Nileno. The guards can sort the rest out."
"No!" He said vehemently, "We've got to take care of this ourselves."
"Are you sure?" Winterbell looked at him in surprise, "He looks like a trained warrior to me."
"You said yourself that the Magistrate is in the Cammona Tong's pocket. If we want to see justice we have to mete it out ourselves."
Winterbell blinked at him, "Well, this is a side of you I've never seen before."
"Besides, if we let him live, and tell the House what we know, yo- we could end up like Ralen."
"We could be killed anyway."
"Why are you arguing so much? I thought you liked this sort of thing."
"I don't kill people for fun." Winterbell said coldly, "Killing people can be fun, but mostly it's not. I'm concerned about you. It isn't like you to advocate violence, I want to make sure you're doing the right thing."
"Winterbell, look, this is more complicated than you think. This should never have happened, and if it gets out..."
"So you want to protect the Cammona Tong's reputation by killing one of it's members?"
"Yes. I mean, no! Look, I'll explain things, I promise. They're going to notice the report is gone soon. We have to act."
Winterbell cracked her knuckles with an anticipatory smile, "All right then. Let's do this thing."
The Council Club was dark and smokey, and luckily for the mages Velas was sitting right next to the entrance. Marayan said it would be for the best if as few people as possible saw them, and Winterbell agreed. Velas was a typical thug, his arms were a mass of scars, and his nose had been broken more than once. He was still in his armor, and a Dwemer war axe was propped up against his chair. He had been drinking, but his gaze was sharp as he regarded them with obvious disdain.
"Who are you?" He asked in a surly tone.
"We're here for some information." Winterbell replied. Velas noticed her faint accent,
"Outlanders are not welcome here. Get out." He said in a tone that indicated the conversation was over. Winterbell said nothing, but pulled the folio from her robe and dropped it on the table in front of Velas. He stared at it for a few moments before he recognized what it was. He reached for his axe, and yelled, "You! Thief!"
Magicka was already sparking off the tips of Winterbell's fingers. Velas staggered back, his eyes stinging from the magical cold. There was a sound of commotion from downstairs, as the other patrons heeded Velas's cry.
"I'll hold the others off, you get Velas." Winterbell ordered, as she calmly stood at the top of the stairs. She nodded in approval as Marayan pulled off a couple weakness-shock combos before casting a shield spell and drawing his shortsword.
Winterbell threw down magical missiles that burst on impact, injuring everyone charging up the stairs. She stopped briefly to scull a restore magicka potion, and someone from below threw a shockball at her. Marayan turned his head in time to see the magic strike Winterbell, and watch it seem to sink into her harmlessly. He had no time to contemplate the phenomenon, however, as Velas swung his axe again. It took a good sized chunk out of Marayan's armor, and the mage staggered.
Velas was looking worse for wear. His right arm kept twitching uncontrollably from the shock magic, throwing off his aim, and the cuts inflicted by Marayan's shortsword had a strange greenish look about them.
"Help me!" He yelled hoarsly.
The fighters on the stairs redoubled their efforts. Winterbell knew she couldn't hold off that many people. With a flourish she pulled a scroll from her sleeve and with a strange hiss a frost atronach rose from the floor. There was consternation from below, and shockball slammed into the huge blue creature.
"That'll hold them off, but only for a little while." Winterbell turned to the battle behind her.
Marayan had obviously let his sword skills get rather rusty; even in his weakened state Velas could avoid most of his swings. Marayan had been hit a couple times by the axe, and blood was dripping from the gashes in his leather armor. Even so, Winterbell thought that Velas was getting the worst of it. Whatever enchantment was on Marayan's sword, it was nasty. Winterbell tried to get a clear shot with her frost, but couldn't risk hitting Marayan. Practically dancing with frustration, she glanced down the stairs. There was at least one corpse under the feet of the frost atronach, but the magical creature had taken some big hits, with large chunks cut out of its chest and arms. Winterbell swore as she saw magicka swirling around it; it would not remain in this plane for long.
Marayan ducked one last swing from the axe and stabbed his sword viciously. It hit Velas in the neck, and the big Dwemer's knees buckled. There was a whoosh from behind him as the frost atronach vanished in a cloud of magicka.
"Grab the book!" He heard Winterbell yell frantically from behind him. He could hear a guard's whistle somewhere outside. He snatched the folio and turned to run. His eyes widened in surprise as he felt Winterbell wrap her arms around him.
"What th-"
Then the world lurched sideways.
A/N Yes, Game!Winterbell did attack Game!Marayan just to see what kinds of spells he cast. Never let it be said that I don't do my research. His sword (and armour and life outside of about three feet of floor) is completely uncannonical. -D