A/N: Allrighty then, I'm back. I hope you haven't all forgotten me. Morrowind belongs to Bethesda.
"Are you Winterbell, the mage?" The young Dunmer looked up at Winterbell cautiously. She was shivering in the cold night air, and Winterbell could see her jaw clenching in an effort to keep her teeth from chattering. Winterbell nodded an acknowledgement,
"And I suppose you're the mystery girl." Winterbell stepped aside, "You'd better come in before you freeze."
The girl made a beeline for the fire, and crouched in front of it, warming her hands. She looked around in awe at the esoteric items that cluttered Winterbell's one room abode. She was very careful not to touch anything, a courtesy that Winterbell did not fail to notice.
"Tea?" She jumped at Winterbell's voice.
"Y-yes, thank you madam."
"Hmm…you do have nice manners. Dispense with the formalities. Friends and enemies alike call me Winterbell."
"Yes Winterbell." She said deferentially. "Marayan talked about you a lot."
"And I invited you in to talk about Dren. I assume you're here to help. "
"Yes. It was my fault that he vanished."
"All right. Start from the beginning. Who are you, how do you know Dren, and where is he now? And please pull up a chair, I don't bite."
She wrapped her fingers gratefully around her cup of tea and began her tale.
"My name is Ilmeni Dren. Vedam Dren, the Duke, is my father."
"So you're his niece."
"Yes, Marayan is my uncle. My father and I don't always see eye to eye. He is a good ruler, but he cares more about commerce than about the people. And my other uncle, Orvas, he's worse. He's a very dangerous man. I'm…involved in an organization dedicated to abolishing slavery. This horrible practice still continues under the auspices of 'tradition'. It is inhumane-"
Winterbell held up her hand, "I don't need the sermon. I'm from Cyrodil originally; I don't need to be persuaded that slavery is unenlightened."
"Ah, I thought you had a faint accent. My Uncle Orvas doesn't like outlanders much. He also keeps slaves. On our own family plantation. He treats them terribly. Father turned a blind eye to most of my activities for the Twin Lamps. He doesn't keep slaves; he thinks free enterprise is best. But he forbade me from interfering with Orvas."
"And you ignored him?"
"Not at first. But the reports of brutality from the Dren plantation grew more frequent. It was shameful, having these things linked to the Dren name. I had to do something. I started helping slaves escape from my Uncle's plantation. He found out eventually."
"Go on."
"He went to my father. They aren't on the best of terms, to put it mildly, but Father was furious I was endangering myself in this way. He's also mad because I don't play politics or act like a lady. I say it is a noble lady's duty to see that those beneath her are treated fairly. I wasn't as if I was sneaking into the plantation myself. Eventually he told me to drop all Twin Lamp's activities, and that if I was caught again he wouldn't protect me from Orvas."
"Charming."
"Well, I wasn't going to stop. The slaves that we were siphoning away from Dren plantation were telling us stories. I know Orvas runs the Cammona Tong, but there are hints of some thing worse than skooma and slaves being smuggled. And there are the Ienith brothers. They're mad, both of them. They're Cammona Tong enforcers, the best of the best. And they'd follow Orvas to their graves."
Ilmeni swallowed and clasped her now-empty cup so tightly her knuckles went white, "I got a visit from them. But Marayan enters the story before that. He said that he had been writing to his brothers, and one or the other of them must have mentioned me. When Uncle heard what my father had decreed he got really mad. He went and visited the Duke, to argue in my favour. My Father is pig-headed! He didn't listen to Marayan, so Marayan visited me in Vivec. It was then that the Ienith brothers showed up."
"Uncle knew why they were there, but he pretended that he didn't. I don't know what their orders were, but they seemed very disappointed that they couldn't carry them out." She shuddered, "They were horrible. They knew who Marayan was, and they didn't dare do anything while he was there. When they left Marayan persuaded me to leave Vivec and come to Balmora where it might be safer. He went back ahead of me; I had to tie up some loose ends with the Twin Lamps. I stayed at the Eight Plates for a while; I had a contact in the Thieves' Guild so I could still keep tabs on the Cammona Tong. They found me eventually though.
"They just went in, bold as brass and kidnapped me! They were just local toughs though, so when my Thieves' Guild contact noticed I was missing he rounded up his friends. When they were moving me from underneath the Council Club to Vivec-knows-where the Guild ambushed the group and busted me out. They were ever so brave!" Her eyes shone and Winterbell smiled and wondered just how close she was to this 'contact' of hers.
"When I got back I discovered Marayan had gone off to look for me. I remember him talking about you; he said that you held off a whole room full of Cammona Tong guys at once!"
"Yes, well, I did have a strategic advantage."
"I've been staying with an associate of the Thieves' Guild, an Altmer. I decided I couldn't do anything by myself, so I've been waiting for you to return. I've been going crazy worrying about Marayan."
"I see. So you know where he is?"
"I'm not sure, but I do know most of the Cammona Tong hideouts in the area. If they recognize him they won't kill him, I'm sure. I'll do anything I can to help."
"All right. Give me your best guess."
"Other than the Council Club, and I'm sure the Guild would know if he's there, the nearest big Cammona Tong base is in Hla Oad. They also control a lot of caves in the Bitter Coast swamps."
"Well, if he's not in Hla Oad presumably they'd know where he is. Assuming he hasn't been eaten by a netch or something." Winterbell noticed the look on Ilmeni's face, "I'm just joking. I'm sure he's more than capable of fending off a netch. Let's get you kitted up."
"Kitted?"
"I'm not taking a defenceless noblewoman into a Cammona Tong base. You think you could handle wearing armor?"
Ilmeni stood up straight, "If I can't I'll just have to learn!"
Winterbell shook her head, "I hope we find Dren soon. Your youthful enthusiasm is making my head ache."
"The Tong already know me." Winterbell said as she rummaged through various chests, "So as much as I dislike it I'll probably wear some armor as well. How about this?" She held up a chitin cuirass.
Ilmeni was struggling to get into a pair of netch leather greaves, "I'm sure it will be fine, but I'm not sure about these-"
"Undo the straps first you silly girl."
"Oh, sorry. Hey, those look good."
"It's Dark Brotherhood armor. Quite rare in Morrowind."
"You're in the Dark Brotherhood?" Ilmeni asked her eyes wide.
"Of course not. I found a complete set in the local smith's. No idea how it got there. He was rather reluctant to part with it."
Ilmeni declared that she could make the armor fit better, and so Winterbell handed it over and enchanted Ilmeni some weapons.
"You can have the crossbow, it's easier to use than a longbow; you just pull the trigger. And here, have these."
"Silver daggers?"
"I enchanted them myself. I'll never use them, so they're yours."
Winterbell let Ilmeni flail about with her new weapons for a while as she brewed some more potions.
"I feel like a real adventurer!" Ilmeni was resplendent in her mismatched armor.
Winterbell scowled, "Just remember that you're not. I'll do my best to keep you alive, but I'm not a miracle worker."
"Right," she practically saluted.
"Well, the Brotherhood armor will disguise me. All I have for you is this fur helm. It won't cover your face though. We'll just have to make the best of it."
"You look really fearsome."
"That's because you can't actually see any of me. Hopefully it will impress the Tong."
The pair left Balmora as unobtrusively as possible. They planned to walk along the bank of the Odai and then cut towards Hla Oad. Winterbell did her best to pass on as much information as possible to the younger woman.
"Do you think spring will be here soon?" Ilmeni peered hopefully at the grey sky.
"Given the luck I've been having recently," Winterbell squinted along an arrow at a cliff racer, "I'd say it's already here."
"Wow, you hit them every single time!" She exclaimed, as the dead bird drifted to earth.
"I've had a lot of practice. You try."
Winterbell had never been to Hla Oad before, but in her eyes one collection of shacks in a swamp looked much like another. The journey had been somewhat slower than expected, as they were both unused to wearing armor, and they arrived at their destination around midmorning.
As Winterbell had hoped, her choice of armor meant that she was generally given a wide berth by most people. Ilmeni informed her that the Cammona Tong hideout was beneath a rather nondescript shack adorned with a sign; "Fatleg's Drop-Off".
"All right, I'll do the talking. The Cammona Tong and the Dark Brotherhood aren't exactly friendly, but they're not exactly enemies either. And they shouldn't ask too many questions."
"What should I do?"
"Look tough and mean, and keep an eye out for your uncle. If things get nasty we pull out rather than take on the lot of them."
Winterbell said not a word to the people inside the Drop-Off. She pulled open the trapdoor and climbed down as if she owned the place. Ilmeni followed, trying hard to look fearsome.
The cavern underneath the Drop-Off was not very extensive. There were a few barrels and boxes, but it obviously wasn't a storehouse. The toughs who leant watchfully against the damp stone walls regarded the pair with open hostility, and Winterbell's Dark Brotherhood armor inspired little more than wariness. They were on their home turf and they knew it.
There was a Khajiit slave there as well, looking rather miserable. Winterbell ignored her, and hoped Ilmeni was doing the same. Winterbell didn't like the fact that the only exit was a trapdoor, and that there were several people between her and it. It was a lovely place for a trap.
Winterbell stalked up to the Dunmer near the slave, assuming he was close enough to being in charge.
"What business does the Brotherhood have with the Tong?" His tone was less than friendly.
"We're looking for someone. He's Dunmer, mid forties, long red hair, and black netch leather armor."
"That don't narrow it down." The Dark Elf seemed less hostile once he realized Winterbell's business didn't concern him. "Try the other caves. The captains there might have heard of this bloke. What's he done anyway?"
"He's gotten himself in to rather a lot of trouble."
"Rather him than me," he shrugged.
Winterbell turned to go. It was obvious they couldn't be hiding Marayan in that cave, and it didn't appear that the elf was lying. She jerked her head, indicating to Ilmeni that it was time to leave.
Winterbell's plans weren't exactly the best-laid, but no amount of planning could have prepared them for what happened next.
The Khajiit had been watching the conversation intently. When Winterbell turned to go she gave a kind of despairing yowl and called something incoherent about the light and a lamp. Ilmeni instinctively turned, but Wintebell got a firm grip on her arm and practically shoved her ahead towards the trapdoor. The dark elf moved to smack the slave down. Winterbell was making for the exit as fast as possible while keeping an eye on the drama behind her.
With a speed and strength born of despair and hate, the slave raked her claws down her captor's face.
"Lady Dren, please!" The slave called.
"Ignore her!" Winterbell hissed.
"But I-" Ilmeni was practically crying.
"Lady Dren, is it?" A voice grated from behind Winterbell. There was a sickening thud as the slave hit the stone floor.
Winterbell turned just in time to see the steel mace descend upon her head. There was a crack as steel met skull, Winterbell's vision faded from blooming red to black.
The pain returned first. Waves of throbbing red upon which Winterbell's consciousness drifted. The pain in her head eventually subsided enough for Winterbell to realize the ache in her arms. There was a buzzing sound; someone was calling her name.
She could smell smoke. It was thick enough to be eye watering, but not quite thick enough to mask the more unpleasant smells that lay beneath it. With a groan of protest, she opened her eyes.
And wished she hadn't. Ilmeni's terrified face was not the most reassuring sight.
"Please wake up. Winterbell!" She whispered urgently.
Winterbell sighed and opened her eyes. She felt extremely ill, and her vision blurred.
"That was quite a blow to the head," she said fuzzily, "I feel terrible."
"They've taken us to another cave. The slave is around somewhere too."
"Great. When I get my hands on that blasted animal I'll wring her furry neck." Winterbell managed to snarl.
"She was just trying to escape. Do you know the conditions they keep slaves in?"
"Yes. Intimately." Winterbell's glare could have cracked rock. "Since we appear to be experiencing it first-hand." Winterbell shook her head, to try and dispel the fuzziness and was nearly sick. "What the hell is wrong with me? Did they drug us? You don't seem to be in bad shape."
"I think they just knocked us out."
"Then why-" Winterbell looked up, to where her hands were chained above her head.
It wasn't the iron shackles that caused her to go pale however; it was the slave manacle that gleamed malevolently in the fetid dark. For the first time in many months, Winterbell's magicka was completely drained.
This time she really was sick.
A/N: The slave manacles in-game are rather unconvincing. They only drain a few points, so I've altered them slightly to drain a few points constantly. So after a few hours even Winterbell's stocks of magicka are exhausted.