*My thanks to Skyhanhunter who took his time to write a short review for this series.
Chapter 15
The vast ashlands of Solstheim is unforgiving. One could almost argue that they exceed the harsh cold of Skyrim. Nevertheless, the residents of this land have learnt to adapt. The dark elves that once worshipped the tribunal had returned to serving their chosen Daedra, after the tragedy at Red Mountain. In a way, they were repaying for their crimes. The Tribunal seemed to be lost in the midst of time. There were few that remembered, and fewer that knew what the demi-gods were capable of.
Maeoni Almu was neither one of these people. He was a man of fortune, a scoundrel, who sought for treasure hidden in the darkest, most forgotten parts of Tamriel. Greed had been his only driving force throughout his life, even when he worked briefly as a merchant; he had sold stolen goods, and had even been accused of grave robbery.
Oddly enough, he was never caught. That's what he believed made him special. And today, he awaited another 'client', who had promised him a substantial amount of gold for the remains of someone who had died long, long ago. When he first received details of the 'order', he was surprised. Not because the client wanted to buy a corpse, (as he had previous dealings with necromancers) but he was surprised to find out that the corpse was almost impossible to retrieve. His head strained at the amount of strings he would need to pull in order to even get a look at the corpse itself.
In the end, Maeoni triumphed and returned, hiding the corpse in a secret compartment inside his wagon, and escaping the area quickly to reach the rendezvous point.
Now he waited patiently, for his client. He had never met the man, and was told that the client would identify himself with a certain phrase, in which Maeoni would have a response phrase for.
The rendezvous wasn't anything fancy or too shady. It was an old tavern, warmly lit with candles and music. The dust from the outside covered the furniture thinly, and some of the drinks even had a thin coating of ash on it, though nobody cared. He had left his cart with the town guards, after paying them to watch over it. In a sense, no-one would bother to look for it that way.
For a while Maeoni sat, quietly sipping his drink and gnawing on a Horker loaf. The sky was now dark. He wondered what had become of his client. His questions were answered by a tall, hooded figure that came looming over towards the table next to him. His presence alone drew all the attention, but after a wave of his hand and an odd whisper that echoed in the tavern, the customers resumed what they were doing, seemingly oblivious to the stranger's presence. The stranger grabbed a bottle of spiced wine, and drank with fervor. His hands were slightly green, but in the dark light Maeoni still couldn't tell what race he was. He was, however, sure that the stranger was no human.
The hooded stranger looked around slowly, observing the actions of everyone in the room. His eyes met Maeoni's who quickly averted his gaze, and stared intently at his Horker loaf. The hooded man seemed to chuckle to himself, and he slowly rose, and walked towards Maeoni's table.
"How's your Horker?" He asked. His voice had an odd, calm but demanding tone.
Maeoni didn't respond, and merely continued eating the Horker loaf; a silent gesture to tell him: "I want to be left alone."
The stranger then sat down in front of him. Maeoni could see now that the stranger was a high elf.
'Is he the one?' He wondered.
The high elf didn't say anything, but smiled at him expectedly. He then opened his mouth, and said the key phrase.
"He was vexed when he could not find it and went back to the Mourning Hold in secret anger, killing a mystic that asked about higher order."
Maeoni's eyes lit up in delight. He was going to get his gold.
"Nerevar, the Hortator, witnessed this and said, 'Why do this, milord? The mystics look to you for guidance. They work to make your temple better stoned.'"
The passphrase was done. Maeoni was ready discuss business. He smiled happily as he moved his Horker loaf to the side.
But the stranger was not finished.
"Vivec said, 'No one knows what I am.'" He said, suddenly solemn.
Maeoni raised both eyebrows at his client. He was silent for a moment, with a melancholic look in his eyes.
"Do you know what that was?" He asked him.
Maeoni shrugged. "I just know it to be your passphrase. It holds no importance to me. I will mostly likely forget this passphrase, like the millions of others before you, over a few bottles of wine." And with that, he took a sip from his cup.
The high elf continued.
"That was an extract from the thirty-six lessons of Vivec. His teachings influenced many Dunmer during their time after the war with the Dwemer."
Maeoni didn't care – or rather, he couldn't care. He simply had no interest in religious texts, as he lived in the life of now, and was not immediately concerned yet with the afterlife.
"That was from the thirtieth sermon. One of my favorites." The high elf's eyes were shining with small excitement.
"Well, that's very amusing – shall we get on with business?" Maeoni said, faking an interest.
"Yes, of course." The elf nodded, and drew out a bag of gold from inside his robes. It clunked loudly as it hit the table, but no-one turned to look.
Maeoni smiled, and he opened the bag, and inspected an estimate. His smile turned to a frown as he faced the high elf.
"This isn't nearly enough what I was promised." He snarled.
The high elf's expression remained neutral, as he replied.
"Five hundred gold. Just like I promised."
"Just like you promised!?" Maeoni slammed his fist on the table. This time, a few people turned to look at the sound, but quickly resumed to their talking.
Maeoni continued in a hushed but angry tone.
"You promised me I would get paid the worth of my job in gold. I know for a fact that this job alone was worth at least seven thousand gold!"
"There's no need to be angry – or whisper." The high elf said, as he reached for the wine. His hand was slapped out of reach by Maeoni's quick movements.
"My gold. My money. Now." He stated firmly.
The high elf didn't say anything, but his eyes showed a hint of raging fire, that quickly extinguished itself before Maeoni could notice his anger.
"I do not have such an amount with me as of now," He began.
"But I can promise you, that when if you ever reach the Summerset Isles-"
"Fuck the Isles!" Maeoni blurted out.
His mind burned with anger.
'How dare he?' He thought.
"Do you have any idea what I've risked to get your stupid corpse here in top condition? The amount of bribes that were paid, the amount of planning that was done, the-"
This time, it was Maeoni that was interrupted.
"Silence." The elf boomed. His voice seemed to echo inside Maeoni's head, and Maeoni felt like he had to calm down – or else.
The high elf rubbed his temples, and groaned in slight frustration. He began muttering, but Maeoni could only pick up a few words.
"…Don't have the time to convert iron into gold… Damn guards…"
The high elf put a hand inside his robe.
"I can only give you the five hundred I have already given you, and these gems." He said, and placed on the table five glistening diamonds.
Maeoni bit his lip. This was not the amount he was expecting. He cursed under his breath as he regretted his decision to take the job like this, not discussing the exact payment beforehand. He wanted to haggle a fortune out of his client, but things did not go according to his plan. He felt that if he denied the client, something bad would happen. Maeoni wasn't a man of superstition, but this time, his instincts told him otherwise.
Maeoni gripped his fist, and took the diamonds, and stood up.
"That's still not enough."
And with that, he dashed out of the store.
Vivec sat on the table, and sighed heavily. He would take another life today.
To be continued
*Rate, PM, Review, Follow, Etc plz. It helps me out a lot, especially on those cold, lonely nights where I cry myself to sleep.