Winds of the Ashfall: An Elder Scrolls Tale

Greg J Miller

~O~

Chapter 16

Turdas the 1st of Hearthfire 4E71 Afternoon

It had passed the mark of noon as Suvaris had been making his way about what remained of Mournhold outside the southern gates of the city walls. If he'd thought that some of those parts of the city within the walls had changed quite a bit since he'd last been there, it was just as much the case outside the walls; perhaps even more so.

After finding himself outside the main city walls, Suvaris soon stepped over to one side of the path, taking a long moment to gaze over what occupied the gentle slope below. As near as he could tell, nearly every structure that used to stand out there was gone and what had since come to take its place was completely unfamiliar. As he tried to make sense of the place, he'd been chewing on those salted meat sticks he'd acquired from that trader. Of course, what he was eating soon sent him reaching for his water flask.

The only things immediately recognisable were the main roads. To his right, he understood that the path headed westward along the edge of the defensive walls went around to where he'd firstly entered the city the previous evening and also to that bridge across the narrows of the upper lake. In a similar fashion, that other path following the wall around to the east led to where those piers use to be situated upon the lower section of the lake, if that was still there. Looking down the gentle slope, he could tell that the street leading south still connected to the main thoroughfare branching off in two directions. He knew well enough that the western road veered southward, headed for the Narsis region. Eastbound loosely followed the path of the Loqueach, eventually headed for the sea.

Anything else in view offered no familiarity. It appeared that none of the stone structures that he remembered remained standing. There was a rugged looking inn on one side of the main street ahead and another tavern of somewhat similar appearance over on the other side. Neither of them seemed the same ones as what had previously been there, and were not even situated in the same places.

Much of what he could see was dominated by many small timber dwellings, which appeared little better than shacks. Without quite neatly lining up, the arrangement of those structures seemed to produce the effect of narrow alleyways branching off from the main southbound street. He could even see a couple of those rough structures that had been previously busted into piles of rubble and seemingly just left that way.

Though that outer part of the city had always represented the less affluent area of Mournhold in terms of the residences, there still used to be some more sturdy structures out there. Only a few had been fully constructed of stone materials and the like, but it seemed that nothing at all like that remained.

Looking out and down toward the southern edge, he could see that only a few short sections of the ancient stone wall of the outer ring remained standing. Of course, it hadn't formed a complete wall the last time he'd seen it, but it seemed that even less of it had endured the past few decades.

He thought that he knew where the old Fighters Guild and the Mages Guild used to be, but there was nothing like that there any longer. The large mound of rubble over the western side appeared to represent what had become of the old Mages Guild.

With everything else markedly altered, he couldn't quite tell exactly where the old Fighters Guild had previously been, but he thought that some of those shoddy shacks on the eastern side occupied the same general area.

Out beyond the remnants of that outer stone wall, he observed some small farmlands further off to the south. From his recollections, he thought that there also used to be some other farms situated along the eastern road between Mournhold and Selfora, but all of that was well beyond his field of view from that location.

Aside from those two taverns on either side of the main street, he couldn't immediately see any other obvious places of trade. There were some slightly larger timber structures situated east of a cluster of shacks. Though taller than the surrounding rooves, they seemed far too small to be those trade warehouses he was looking for. Even so, he couldn't identify anything else that might qualify.

Suvaris picked his way over toward the eastern side. As he neared that area, he observed another roadway running along the eastern line. It appeared to come up from the main road to the east, leading directly to that area he was headed for.

What he'd taken for a row of timber shacks on his left, turned out to be stabling facilities. An unpleasant odour accompanied the noises of several guar kept there. To his mild surprise, he also noticed a wretched looking horse in the stables.

On his right, he gained a better view of those taller structures. Though not as large as he thought they should be, according to the signage, it appeared that at least two of them were trade warehouses.

Suvaris' attention was caught by a young voice calling out from behind.

"Sera… sera…"

Just then, a bantam guar dashed by his boots heading eastward. It then executed a sharp turn to the right and backtracked, then turned again and headed for the shacks to the south. A poorly dressed Dunmer boy of no more than ten or eleven brushed by in harried pursuit of the creature.

Given that he'd not seen any others about, Suvaris had assumed that local children of such an age would've likely been in schooling at that hour of the day. For whatever reason, at least one was out and about and chasing livestock around.

In passing, he'd briefly considered the possibility that the building he'd observed in the centre of the plaza with the New Temple banners might've served for the schooling of local children. That was just a wild guess, since he hadn't actually noticed anything that clarified that structure's purpose as he'd passed by, only that it was associated with the New Temple.

"Suvaris… Suvaris… wait up."

That male voice still seemed familiar to him. He turned about to observe Faryl Rurvyn hurriedly moving along the street in his direction. He seemed to be coming from the direction of the city walls. He waited in place as the trader caught up, then waited patiently waited another moment as the other Dunmer tried to regain his breath.

Suvaris chose to speak first, offering a friendly nod and a mild grin. "Good day to you, Faryl."

"Was hopin'… hopin' ta run into ya." Faryl still sounded slightly short of breath.

Suvaris raised his eyebrows in silent question.

"Was askin' around… with the ones I been dealin' with… askin' if they… if they hearda any Travlon Suvaris around these parts."

Suvaris returned another mild grin, with a tilt of his head. "I didn't expect for you to go to any trouble."

Faryl waved it off. "Ain't no trouble at all. Was dealin' with 'em anyways. Anyhow, a coupla fellas with the warehouses remembered the name. Said a younger fella by that name used to work the barges on the river, just east of here."

Suvaris returned another nod. "I'd just heard much the same from a merchant in the Great Bazaar. Well, more or less."

"From what I heard, they said that other Suvaris been livin' over at Selfora. Next town over, to the east."

"I know the place, if only vaguely."

"One fella reckons he knows someone else who works them barges, cept he says he ain't seen that Suvaris about recently. Reckons he mighta gone an' signed on with ships comin' up river or somethin' like that."

"The ships that dock at, ah… at Ald Mire?"

"Yeah, that place."

Suvaris returned a nod, with a thoughtful expression.

Faryl looked fairly pleased. "Leastways, it sounds like ya got somethin' go on."

"Yes, so it seems." Suvaris' pensive expression remained.

"Hope it all goes well for ya… bein' about family an' all that." Faryl paused with a broad smile, then his expression shifted again as he considered other tasks. "Speakin' of that, I gotta go see how Dravyn an' Bradyn are goin' with all that stuff."

Suvaris nodded. "I take it that the, ah… promised materials were available?"

Faryl's face lit up again as he returned another nod. "Yeah, all that turned out real good. Just gotta sort it for travel an' make sure it's not too much for the guar."

"Of course." Suvaris again thanked him for his consideration and assistance, then once again wished him luck on his journey back toward the north.

Faryl headed off for the back of the second trade warehouse and with some measure of uncertainty to his step, Suvaris idled toward that road running along the eastern edge of outer Mournhold.

Pausing briefly on the southbound path, Suvaris released a heavy sigh, looking up to those tall hills east of Mournhold. He understood that the township of Selfora was located at least a few leagues beyond those hills along the eastbound road. He'd been over there only the once, many years before, partnered with another Fighters Guild comrade. He estimated that he could probably make it to that township before dark easily enough.

From what he understood, Ald Mire was probably too far off to reach with what remained of the day. To the best of his knowledge, that other place was meant to be about twice as far away.

Of course, that secondary consideration was somewhat premature. Visiting Selfora first was the most sensible course of action in his mind. With any luck, that would likely advise him of what might be the next course to pursue. He did recall that there had previously been an inn at the township. He hoped that was still the case, as the tavern would likely provide some answers to his questions, if the locals were of sociable disposition.

Shifting the weight of his travelling pack upon his back, Suvaris started off down toward the eastbound road. However after only a few moments, he was unexpectedly distracted by what came into view just past the trade warehouses.

He observed that Bosmer archer from the marketplace headed for a timber structure along the road. The Bosmer passed directly through the front entrance of the place, closing the door behind. That relatively small building was flying the familiar red banners featuring a shield over crossed swords.

Evidently, he'd just come across that independent Fighters Guild of Mournhold that he'd kept hearing of. Of course, there'd been no sign of any kind of the remnants of the old Fighters Guild at Kragenmoor or Old Ebonheart or even at Blacklight. That Mournhold group was the only one he'd heard of.

Suvaris hesitated for a moment. His thoughts were torn between the notion of getting to Selfora before nightfall and considering investigation of what was right in his path. He glanced upward to take measure of the position of the sun. With another sigh, he adjusted his direction toward that structure with the Fighters Guild banners.

As he drew near, he briefly noted that the banners were faded and tattered about the edges. Even so, they did look very much like those banners that commonly hung outside Cyrodiil guildhalls.

Uncertain of precisely what to expect, Suvaris pushed open the door and stepped into the doorway. He hesitated before proceeding further inside.

On his left, that Bosmer archer turned to look in his direction with a mildly surprised expression, as he was finishing with hanging his weapons upon hooks along the wall. From appearances alone, it remained difficult to gauge the wood-elf's age.

Just behind him, a burly Nord with an unkempt beard and a thinning mane of fair coloured hair sat at a small table with a mug. His expression conveyed more suspicion than surprise. The Nord might have been in his late thirties or early forties. He still found it hard to judge the ages of some Nords, since some of them did seem to age prematurely.

A male voice called out from an open doorway to the right. "Hoy, Engor. Didja end up gettin' that…?" A younger male Dunmer paused in the doorway with his mouth open, looking to the unusually well-appointed visitor standing in the entrance. He glanced briefly to the other two in the room. From appearance, he could have been no older than thirty. Looking back to Suvaris, his eyes narrowed. "Wot are you lookin' for?"

Suvaris tried to maintain a neutral expression. "Alaron Suvaris. I used to serve with Kragenmoor's Fighters Guild."

The younger male Dunmer returned a dumbfounded expression.

A second Dunmer male of somewhat more years than the first one pushed past through that open doorway. Though obviously older than the younger Dunmer, he seemed likely of fewer years than Suvaris. "Kragenmoor? Ain't been nothin' like that in years."

Meeting the older Dunmer's gaze, Suvaris nodded. "No, not for many years. I now serve our people from the Cheydinhal guildhall."

The younger Dunmer spoke again. "So, wot are you doin' here then?"

The older Dunmer glared, without speaking.

Suvaris had noted that no introductions had been offered. Of course, he recognised none of the faces in the room. He maintained his tone of neutrality. "I am merely passing through… in pursuit of the rumour of a family member."

Without saying anything about it, that older Dunmer clearly appeared to be the one in charge of the others. Suvaris believed that he was the one who needed convincing of his intent. He went on to briefly explain why he'd come to Mournhold, additionally advising that he'd just learned of a Travlon Suvaris recently working the barges along the river and also said to have been living at Selfora.

The older Dunmer appeared to listen closely to what Suvaris had to say. The other three remained quiet, seemingly waiting to hear what their superior thought.

Still looking somewhat suspicious, the older Dunmer finally responded. "That the only reason yer here then?"

Suvaris returned a slight nod. "Well, yes. Only because I'd heard of some sort of Fighters Guild here… and then saw the banners as I was passing… I thought I should stop by."

he Dunmer in charge appeared unmoved. "Don't want nuthin' ta do with no Imperial Fighters Guild. We look after our own. Proper Dunmer, no outlanders."

"Hey." Both the Nord and Bosmer simultaneously expressed their objection.

"Ain't talkin' about you two. Ya lived here all yer lives. Yer practically honorary Dunmer, or the like." The older Dunmer turned back to Suvaris. "Ain't hearda no Suvaris around here. Coupla Travlon's maybe, but no Suvaris."

None of the others offered anything different.

Suvaris inclined his head in a respectful manner. He could easily tell that he was not at all welcome. "I shouldn't take up any more of your time. Added to that, I do intend to make it over to Selfora before the day is done."

That other Dunmer didn't seem about to shift his uncompanionable position. "Yeah well, don't let us hold ya up. An' if it comes up, make sure them Imperial Fighters Guild lot know ta leave us be. We don't want nuthin' ta do with 'em."

"Of course." Suvaris returned another respectful nod and took his leave, leaving through the open doorway and closing it behind him.

Departing that Mournhold Fighters Guild, Suvaris didn't waste any further time, heading off directly downhill toward the eastbound road for Selfora. Without allowing it to unduly impede his progress, his thoughts did still remain distracted.

Though he found the brief experience rather distasteful, stopping in at that makeshift guildhall did at least serve to inform him more clearly. He might have hoped for something rather different, but what he'd found hardly surprised him so much.

Even so, the measure of resentment held for anything related to Imperial influence appeared even more pronounced than he might have anticipated. Of course, he did understand how many of his people would feel that way. Though he didn't truly share that viewpoint, generations of Dunmer had maintained at least some level of resentment toward the Imperials ever since Morrowind had been pressed into becoming part of Tiber Septim's Empire. Now that Morrowind was mostly free of direct control, it seemed that some still held onto that resolve with an almost irrational passion.

In his own mind, regardless of how some might feel about the Empire, Suvaris disagreed with the notion of harbouring ill will toward the Fighters Guild merely because it was headquartered in Chorrol. Granted, it did accept some its funding and some indirect influence from the Mede Empire. However, just as it had been since the initial founding of those first guilds during the second era, the Fighters Guild still maintained its independent operation as per the Charter of Guilds.

Of course, there was nothing to be done about an independent guildhall choosing to operate in that fashion. Many of the numerous guildhalls of that tumultuous time before the rise of Tiber Septim managed to weather those years in much the same fashion. Provided that they abided the local laws and customs according to the Fighters Guild Charter and managed to secure regional support, there were no grounds for formal interference.

Suvaris certainly believed that there would be greater value in uniting with the Chorrol-headed Guild and restoring the Fighters Guild presence across Morrowind. However, he fully understood that none of that would come to pass merely because he thought it the better choice. From his recollection, Karl gro-Baroth had felt much the same during his tenure as Guild Master in Chorrol and managed only some modest measure of success in High Rock and Hammerfell. Evidently, Morrowind had remained beyond his grasp.

Soon enough, Suvaris was on the eastbound road. Heading off along that road, he gave some passing thought to how there were also no longer any Mages Guild outfits or similar throughout Morrowind. He'd previously learned that some independent Mages Guild operations still existed in parts of High Rock and Hammerfell.

Of course, like that pile of rubble he'd spotted outside of Mournhold's wall, he knew well of how Kragenmoor's small guildhalls had also been destroyed. Seemingly, the guildhalls of other locations were also long gone.

With the collapse of the Mages Guild administered from the Arcane University of the Imperial City not so long after Oblivion Crisis, he supposed that it wasn't so truly surprising.

Back in Cyrodiil, many of the old Mages Guild facilities had been taken over by the College of Whispers in the regional cities. Of course, it seemed that the Synod was only really interested in maintaining its posture within the Imperial City and its position of relevance with Imperial military concerns.

He imagined that neither of those organisations would have recognised any value in extending their interests into Morrowind in the current state of affairs. To the best of his knowledge, the College of Whispers had only made some effort to expand into eastern Hammerfell, but otherwise remained mostly within Cyrodiil.

It seemed that nothing else like that had emerged in Morrowind to properly take the place of the Mages Guild. He expected that the priests of the New Temple probably held some sway over maintaining the healing arts. He also supposed that whatever remained of House Telvanni probably still took great interest in cultivating mages within their own ranks. However, he felt somewhat ill at ease over what Telvanni mages might pursue without the tempering influence of something like the Mages Guild.

In any case, such matters also remained well beyond any of his influence or concern.

With the afternoon sun at his back, Suvaris hastened his pace. The road ahead followed a path around the south of those rocky hills east of Mournhold. Not so far out, he observed some small farmlands just south of the main road. A lesser path ran up the middle between two farmhouses. Aside from noticing some rows of scrib cabbage, he didn't pay much attention to what else was growing in the crop fields. He instead focussed more upon the road ahead.

Beyond those farms, patches of wild kanet and jute grew amongst the grasses and heather by the sides of the road. A few clusters of lesser-sized mushrooms appeared dwarfed by the occasional Emperor Parasol towering above. In turn, the dominance of those taller mushrooms seemed only challenged by the smattering of tall beech trees in the area. Unlike further north, the tall and broad trunks of those beech seemed to swell with vigour, as did the broad spread of thriving foliage overhead.

A little further out, Suvaris came upon a sturdy stone bridge over a section of the upper Korgathi. Though he knew that the waterway was fed from Lake Amaya further north, to his left he could see what seemed like no more than a trickle flowing down into the broad pool on that side. As near as he could tell, the shallow stream on his right didn't really seem to be flowing at all.

It seemed that circumstance had not changed from what he recalled. The coiled path of the Korgathi likely still only flowed enough to properly reach the Loqueach when the rains were persistently plentiful.

Not so far beyond that bridge, a well-worn road split off to the north, heading over the rolling hills between that location and the river. As indicated by the signage, that was the road headed for the transport piers on the Loqueach where those river barges docked.

That stretch of the main road veered north for a short distance before eventually turning eastward once again. Not far from his immediate destination, the road passed along a relatively narrow strip of land framed by waterways on either side. The waters on his left formed a small lake of sorts. The marshy ponds on his right seemed to go on for much further, but remained shallow and insubstantial.

Across the far side of the marshes on the southern side, he observed a pair of wild alit amongst the reeds. The reptilian creatures appeared to be drinking from the water. Of course, there was far too much obstruction between their position and the road to cause any immediate concern.

The shadows leaning toward the east had drawn notably long by the time that Suvaris reached the road turning off to the left, heading uphill toward Selfora. There were a few small farms just outside the township. Bordering the crop fields, he observed quite a few more shady trees and tall mushrooms than he recalled from his previous visit. He was of the opinion that most of the hillside had been less wooded all those years before.

Looking about the township, it seemed more or less about the same size as what he vaguely remembered. There were fewer than twenty houses spread out across the hilltop. A few were of mixed stone construction. Others were mostly built from timber. With the arched roofing that seemed to extend halfway down the outer walls, he understood that style to be something more common to regions administered by House Dres than House Indoril. It was probably just as fair to suggest that it was common enough to many farming communities of the Deshaan.

Though he could hardly tell with any certainty what had been only constructed during recent decades, both the Selfora Inn and that large family mansion did seem to be the same structures that he recalled from many years before.

Shifting his gaze off toward the east, through the trees he could make out the tall Velothi styled towers of the old Tal'Deic Fortress rising up from the land below. Though he'd not been there, he understood that the old fortress occupied an island on the Loqueach. Exactly what purpose it might serve in the current state of affairs, he didn't know. He understood that the township of Ald Mire must be located somewhere a little further beyond that, where the waters of the Loqueach deepened enough for the ships to sail up the river.

Heading for the inn on the eastern side of town, Suvaris thought he caught a flash of light out of the corner of his right eye. He turned his head in that direction and then noticed the dark line of cloud on the edge of the southern horizon. A moment later, he noted another flash of lightning from a storm building in the distance. He concluded that it was probably somewhere over the Argonian marshes.

From his recollection, that was where most of the storms came from that brought rains to the Deshaan. He also recalled that many of those storms rarely made it over to Kragenmoor. The cool air coming down off the Valus Mountains tended to blow those storms eastward before reaching that place. Not always, but more often than not.

The storm clouds seemed too far off to tell whether anything would come of it. He couldn't even tell if it was actually headed northward, or if the dark clouds were actually drifting toward the eastern seas.

With dusk almost upon him, Suvaris stepped inside the Selfora Inn. Though the tavern area appeared relatively clean and tidy, it was not much to look at. He'd seen worse, but he'd also seen far better. All in all, it seemed typical of a small town tavern, just not one of the most terribly rustic kind.

There were only a few people inside the tavern. Each of them looked to be local Dunmer. Some of them had the look of farmers or the like. That was to be expected.

The elderly Dunmer barkeep seemed friendly enough. He was quite tall, but slender, with a shock of thinning white hair tied back into a tail. If not for his gray colouring, he might have looked a lot like an Altmer. He'd introduced himself as Fedris and didn't seem at all averse to Suvaris' outland-sounding accent. He'd enthusiastically mentioned that he had rooms available, before even being asked about it.

Fedris had taken pause upon hearing the stranger's name. "Suvaris, ya say? We had someone by that name in town."

"Would that be a Travlon Suvaris?"

"Yeah… yeah, that's right, young Travlon. Y'know what? By my reckonin', I'd say ya look like ya might be related."

Suvaris went on to briefly explain how he believed that Travlon might be his brother's grandson, though he'd previously believed that all the family had perished many years before.

Fedris scratched his pointed ear. "Can't say I hearda no Taron Suvaris… an' I been here since all them troubles. But I do remember that young Travlon. Saw him around here a fair bit over the last year or so. Since he was workin' the river barges an' all. Useta board with Malvi."

"But no longer?"

"Nah, I hear he's gone off. Went ta work the docks back down river, where goods get loaded up, at Ald Mire. Maybe lookin' ta get some work with the ships? Dunno fer sure."

After persuading Suvaris to take his best room for the evening, Fedris went on to explain where Malvi's house could be found. However before he'd quite finished, he'd declared it all unnecessary, because she'd just come into the tavern.

Brief introductions were made. At first, the older Dunmer woman seemed slightly suspicious. Then she'd seemed to decide to take Suvaris at his word, possibly recognising some subtle family resemblance to young Travlon. Her words mostly confirmed everything that Suvaris had already heard, telling him that Travlon had gone off to Ald Mire several weeks before and not been back since.

Responding to Suvaris' prompts, Malvi didn't seem to know any more about Travlon's parents, only that they weren't from around there. She couldn't recall him mentioning them by name at all. Only as 'mother' and 'father'. She thought that he used to live with his mother at the port town of Bosmora, near the mouth of the river. Though he'd never properly explained it, she'd gained the impression that his father wasn't around any more.

At the end of it, Malvi told Suvaris that she thought it was best go see the dock master over at Ald Mire, if he wanted to find young Travlon. Suvaris graciously thanked her and agreed to pass on her regards when he did finally locate him.

After cleaning up and acquiring a hot meal, Suvaris retired to his rented room for the evening, intending to be up early to go off to Ald Mire the next day. Though he remained uncertain of whether he would easily find the young Dunmer he was searching for, it seemed that he was on the right track.

~O~