The eighth chapter in the series. I hope you enjoy the story and plot so far. Please tell me what you think!
Songs of Cinder, Book VIII: Tongue and Dagger
"So, Tailless!" Yen said to Urjorahn, as they were sitting by the bar in the newly built Three Kagouti Cornerclub of Balmora, "Have you heard of the tale of Red Jinx?"
"Red Jinx?" the Khajiit replied.
"The one with a necromancer and his ring? You told it about, err, two days ago! Thin story! Better pass me that mug." Fadril said, leaning on his stool between the two.
"I told you. It's time for Urjorahn to listen," Yen handed a tankard to Fadril and ensconced himself cosily, "So, Red Jinx. There once was a powerful necromancer by the name of Zayah Celog."
"Zayah? Quite an unusual name for... Nevermind." Urjorahn grinned, "This one may proceed."
"Rumor has it that the necromancer was actually named after a letter Xayah in the Daedric alphabet. It is unknown whether the letter was changed to Z for an obscure reason, or simply it wasn't really related to the script. Zayah developed the character of a bastard as early as ten years old. He was traitorous and... unfriendly, to say the least. His love for the Black Arts was clear at that time; his mother once found the King of Worms' books under Zayah's bed. By the time he grew up, he left his village and fled to a coven of necromancers. There he met Jyrenn-"
"Jyrenn? Another unusual name. Is this one sure he tells things right? Ah... Sorry."
"So, Jyrenn was one of the practitioners. They were bitter rivals, but once Zayah became a leader of the vermin, he made sure that Jyrenn becomes his right hand, as Zayah thought that he is the only one worthy of the job. The necromancers were being slaughtered, uh, sacrificed to Zayah, who used their souls merely to enchant his ring. The hungry n'wah then found a Daedra's heart - and tried to replace his own with it."
"This is getting ridiculous," Fadril interrupted Yen, who was already quite consumed by the story, "That's not what you told me!"
"I bethought. Uh, so, when Zayah tried to do that, Jyrenn and the few remaining necromancers revolted, fearing that the tyrant might become unstoppable. They raised an army of dead, but alas, Zayah cast a dark shield around himself, using the enchanted ring, the Red Jinx. It drained the revolted's lifeforce, and soon Jyrenn was the only one left standing. Zayah failed, and his soul was imprisoned within Red Jinx."
"And Jyrenn?" Urjorahn asked.
"Probably died sometime after that. And the ring is lost." Yen replied, placing a can of greef on the table before Hlormaren approached.
"So far, no signs of Daedra," the Redoran said, "We split up. Callonia and I are going to be on the lookout on the western part of Balmora. You five will stay here and watch for any suspicious activity. If Mehrunes steps in town, we'll be ready to kick his Daedric arse."
The Three Kagouti Cornerclub was unusually peaceful, making one think that problems like Oblivion Crisis never crossed its doorway. This was also true for the rest of Balmora; while weakened by the Empire's withdrawal, House Hlaalu's trade seemed to thrive, and life in the town was flowing as always, busy streets and happy merchants, still unaware of the invasion. There was not a single cloud in the sky, and the midday sun got rid of all the shadows of Balmora's walkways. Urjorahn believed it was just a lull before the storm. His thoughts switched from the threat of Oblivion to a yet invisible one: Velar Veleth. Tedryn's manor was only a few quarters away from the cornerclub, and an unfamiliar banner hung above the front door. Urjorahn picked the lock and broke in. The main hall was as well-decorated as his villa in Brenur plantation, Tedryn was a sophisticated Dunmer indeed. The bedchambers upstairs, however, could only boast of a few dusty crates and a lonely dim lantern reeling above them. Everything was hardly suspicious in and around the manor, and the Khajiit went down to the basement. A room, with its walls being half-broken by the invading cavern nearby, was before him. Urjorahn proceeded to a hallway that led to a slightly bigger and cleaner room, with nothing of particular interest except a chest opposite of the coridor. He opened the chest to witness pieces of paper fuzz across the room, the pieces he used to scribble with Daedric outlines in his cell. Tedryn knew everything.
Urjorahn heard the footsteps behind him; someone was coming close to the Khajiit, not even trying to be silent, as if the owner himself came to find a thief.
"You're trespassing here," Urjorahn recognised a familiar voice. He turned around to see Dalamus.
"This one must know what the whole shadowy game is about, hmm? Khajiit is ready for answers he already came to know."
"Not yet," Dalamus replied, "This is Camonna Tong territory, cat. Several of their agents are outside the manor on the rooftops. I was asked to seek you out."
"So, Urjorahn once found himself and the path he has to follow, and now yet another obstacle stands on his way. The Khajiit has no business with those who enslave the innocent."
"Look, Fadril and I, we want to cut ties with the damned syndicate. Everything comes with a price. You dig in their turf, and the xenophobes have a dirty job for you..." Dalamus continued, "If you do this, we are free from Camonna Tong and are no longer considered a scum, a blight upon Morrowind."
"Hmm?"
"It is quite simple. You will need to kill someone. Show yourself as an assassin. But there is a trick."
"Uh huh?" the Khajiit was getting more and more interested, "Murder is Morag Tong's territory, no?"
"This is something that must be done without their involvement. The target is... Hlormaren Redoran," Dalamus said to startled Urjorahn, "Ever since we arrived, Hlormaren has been patrolling the streets, making it hard for Camonna Tong to operate. They say he should be eliminated..."
"Urjorahn feels the air of treason swirl between us as we speak."
"It is... the only way."
"This one may sleep peacefully," Urjorahn sighed.
"Please, do it discreet."
The following day was spent in Urjorahn's armor training, as Yen showed him some tricks that made it easier to move, turn without losing balance, make little noise when landing after a jump or a fall, and sprint without feeling over-encumbered. The Khajiit got himself a new shining set of finely-crafted ebony ringmail, plated with thin metal parts and chained with small rings. Made by Hlormaren's request to forge a light armor durable enough to withstand a few blows, while still looking expensive and elven in style, the set came with an ebony shortsword of common design in the Third Era. The armor was still a bit heavy for Urjorahn, who got used to being light on his feet, but he could swing his new sharp blade with relative ease. The whole day of training was worth it; drenched in sweat, Urjorahn was not feeling the burden of plates as much as earlier that day, but the pauldrons were still unaccustomed to him. Yen was maneuvering in the armor like an old pro, making it seem like he was unarmored all this time.
"I wish I could fancy myself the blade as lovely as yours, ha!" Yen said to the tired but happy Khajiit, slowly loosening the Netch leather belts before taking the cuirass off, "The Three Kagouti is an outstanding cornerclub indeed! You should come and see the chambers we rented today. I promise, you'll like it!"
Urjorahn smiled and nodded instead, as if saying he'll come check the rooms later.
Night fell in Balmora. Urjorahn's room was empty. The grief-stricken Khajiit was sitting on the cornerclub's roof, a black cowl concealing the upper half of his face, his white eyes shining through the cowl's shadow. He carefully examined the western district from afar, memorizing every light source and the guardsmen's patrolling routes. He could not bear the thought that he had to stab Hlormaren with his own generous gift to Urjorahn, surfing through the shadows of his room in the armor he was given as per Redoran Master's request. It was a shame. Urjorahn whetted his whistle with a sip of sujamma. He has to do it, he must. The Khajiit stepped into shadows, translocating under Balmora's stone bridge right above the flowing river. He bypassed the guard, steering away from the lanterns on the wide street before stepping from a shadow of the western cornerclub's patio area. Hlormaren's window was just above the nightblade; he climbed on a plank to the right of the window and extinguished the lantern that hanged on the plank. He carefully opened the window and slipped inside Hlormaren's room, sticking to a shadow near the bed where he peacefully slept, before Urjorahn noticed a shadowy figure approach the Master in haste. The Khajiit rolled closer to the competitor, and he appeared to be in some red robes. The assailant was about to deliver a stab to Hlormaren, but Urjorahn stopped him, blocking and bashing with his short blade. The Dunmer woke up to witness shadows battle each other a few steps away from his bed, and the robed one cast a silence spell on the nightblade, the light revealing the assailant's red robes with a strange crest of what appeared to be a rising sun. The Khajiit charged, and the robed assassin retreated, jumping out of the window as inhuman whispers started echoing in the sky, accompanied by thunder.
"By Azura, who are you?" Hlormaren asked. The shadow approached him and took off the cowl.
"Khajiit is glad by the sudden twist in this one's fate, it may decide the outcome of this night," Urjorahn replied, "I was sent to murder you, but it seems the Dro-m'Athra themselves would not want Urjorahn to make such a mistake. Now, get your apparels on, mortal. You won't fight naked, will you?"
"Kill me?"
"A long story. Now this one must be quick and rub his red eyes if the mortal wants to hear it," Urjorahn pointed at the night sky, as waves of red glowing mist invaded the once bright stars, guiding the black clouds above Balmora.
"Gods... Oblivion Gate... Wh-where is Callonia?"
"The Dro-m'Athra wish to play a new game with mortals, it seems. They even brought a larger doorway."
Urjorahn rushed to Three Kagouti with a surprised Hlormaren. The Great Gate, three times bigger than usual Oblivion Gates the group dealt with before, was raising havoc at Balmora's stone walls. As they ran, the citizens were looking out of their windows only to witness a terrific scene of demonic hordes setting the buildings on fire, killing the Hlaalu guardsmen with relative ease. There was no hope for the town's residents.
Yen woke up after a Dremora bursted in the party's chambers, he drew his sword and raised it, screamed "Dagon take you, weaklings!" and charged at the still sleepy Redoran soldiers before they could touch the hilts of their fine weapons. Yen quickly woke Llether, who was still asleep due to his room being farther than the rest. The spellsword managed to slip on his cuirass before the Dremora was able to deliver a strike; however, it was evaded, and Yen rushed out of his room. He saw Fadril and Dalamus fight the oncoming hordes of Daedroths and Dremora. Urjorahn and Hlormaren broke in, about to surround the Daedric forces. In a veil of red smoke, it was hard to navigate through the chamber, but Urjorahn made it to his room and opened the chest's lock in a hurry, before the door behind him closed itself along with the blinds of the room's only window, the cloak of utter blackness emerged from the shadows and swirled around the Khajiit. The room turned completely black. He turned, leaving the chest open, as the noises, the ringing of metal, the distorted and guttural screams and the thunder outside ceased. A red circular void appeared before Urjorahn, black hole-like circle at the center. An eclipse-like eye watched him.
"Urjorahn!" he heard Yen yelling at him, knocking at the door, and then the voice decreased in volume and could not be heard anymore.
"Well met, my future servant!" the voice echoed from the red void, "The test of your endurance is passed, the barrier between Tamriel and the Waters is merely... an obstacle now. Do you feel it?"
The Khajiit recognised a very familiar voice. Velar Veleth.
"I know you do!" Velar exclaimed, "You must feel the flow of the Waters themselves in your impure veins. I guess it was Molag Bal who blighted poor Eddves' son with the curse of impurity! Zahraji made a lethal mistake, making a bond between the pure Dunmer people and the beasts of southern jungles. Impure! You shall be my servant! I tried to gift you with power of Oblivion itself! I tried to cleanse your boon of petty mortality! None can deny the holy present of Daedric blood! I bought you from the Camonna Tong thugs, I knew you'd soon break free, I knew you'd be searching for answers, searching for me, I knew you'd come into the Ancestral Tomb... Hermaeus Mora's cursed High Seekers write the next verse of our fates, you know. I... gave you the gift of Daedric blood... For a reason."
The echoes were getting stronger, it felt like Mehrunes Dagon himself made his first step into Balmora. Llether was siphoning the Daedra's lifeforce in his mantle of shadows, after they are weakened by Yen's continuous restless blows. Fadril and Dalamus proved to be working flawlessly when paired, overwhelming Dremora in a complex sequence of alternate strikes from every direction. Hlormaren led his remaining soldiers towards the invaders, raising his shield high and holding it steady, being as strong as a wall of Imperial City. He withstood the Dremora's blows, deflecting every single hit, before he saw the figure clad in the same red robes. A Mythic Dawn agent himself graced the combatants with his presence opposite of Hlormaren. The Master bashed in rage and jumped off the balcony, landing a few feet closer to the cultist, who pulled off his hood, revealing Callonia's lovely face. Hlormaren lowered his hands.
"Callonia?..." he whispered.
"Acolyte Callonia." the agent replied drily.
"Bitch!" Dalamus charged towards the Mythic Dawn Acolyte before she raised her Daedric amulet with a carved Mehrunes' face. A reddish portal was conjured, and the Dremora Markynaz emerged from the arcane light, drawing his bloody claymore.
"You see? You are one with the Waters. You share a bond with the invaders!" Velar echoed, "You are no mere mortal!"
"This one finished his monologue already?" Urjorahn replied, gripping his shortsword.
"You deny... the truth! We'll see if you are stubborn enough to resist the power of the blood bond! Come, come and meet me at the Red Mountain! I'll be sure to welcome you with open arms and guide you through Foyada Padhome, my realm of arcane darkness and black waters. I will be waiting for you, Impure..." The void vanished, leaving a couple of black Daedra, the very same ones that the Khajiit saw at Veleth Ancestral Tomb. They unsheathed their war axes and advanced, as the shroud of blackness dissolved along with Velar's aspect.
"Xefhedle!" the Acolyte shouted to the Markynaz and pointed at Hlormaren. The Dunmer swinged his blade at Callonia's hand, and she lost grip of her locket, falling on the cold stone floor before Xefhedle was banished adrift to Oblivion.
The Daedra were about to gain the upper hand, when the roof of Three Kagouti Cornerclub started to tremble and collapsed, rubble falling on the warriors and breaking the walls and balconies. Acolyte Callonia stood up, holding her bloody hand, and got pushed by Fadril against the crumbing wall to her death, leaving only a scrap of Mythic Dawn robes above the rubble pile.
"Everybody! Outside! Now!" Llether shouted, as the party ran out of the cornerclub, "To the wagon, fast!"
Three Kagouti fell apart, and the scene of destroyed Balmora gave birth to melancholy in the group's hearts.
"S-so... It cannot be stopped..." Yen whispered.
"Where is-" Fadril did not finish his question, as he noticed the shadow sprinting towards the carriage, hopping into it. Urjorahn blew the dust off his cuirass and fell on his bedroll, his legs shaking.
"I guess you can explain why you were trying to murder me..." Hlormaren turned to the Khajiit.
"No, Urjorahn can't."
"It dosn't matter anymore," Dalamus said.
Balmora was lying in ruins by the morning, but the demoralised party was already far from the town. Fadril did not sleep; he watched the silent Urjorahn stare at the stars. The Dunmer carefully moved closer to him, shoving him and handing over Tedryn's journal. Urjorahn skimmed through the pages - the outlines, the letters, those he kept scribbling.
"Tedryn, he was afraid, you know," Fadril said with a slight hint of hesitation, "These writings, they... They are an incantation to banish Daedra. And... and you are..."
"One with the Waters. Urjorahn can't resist the bond of blood," the Khajiit replied drily, yet sadness could be heard in his voice, "I am one of the dark spirits. The Dro-m'Athra."