Antonia Otranto Part 4: 23 Last Seed: Attacked
Blessed, blessed ONE! Deep within the strangely arrayed, oddly deserted cavern were a pair of gauntlets; now I could carry loot as well as my equipment. I returned home with hymns of praise to the ONE on my lips before retiring to bed. That was the good part of the day.
The low point was being attacked in my sleep.
“This is definitely a Dark Brotherhood helm,” I was informed by a snot called Apelles Matius, “so I’m inclined to agree that someone’s targeted you for assassination.” He then went on to tell me how I could get to Mournhold with the help of a mage not far away.
“Well,” a guard told me one bribe later, “all I know is that those devils have a nest somewhere under the Grand Bazaar, in the ruins of Old Mournhold.”
“Old where?”
“Old Mournhold — you’re standing on top of it. The new city of Mournhold was built on the ruins after the Lady Amalexia beat Mehrunes Dagon. Some adventurers go down looking for treasure, like adamantium ore. But most of them just find defeat and death.” He looked at me with a serious air. “If you do go down there, don’t get cocky. There’s always someone tougher than you.”
I thanked him and went down anyway.
Old Mournhold was literally a sewer, and a sewer crawling with rats, undead, and strange creatures half-glimpsed that I, probably wisely, steered clear of. I was more interested in finding the Dark Brotherhood stronghold, and eventually I did. Now I knew where they were; some day I would return and destroy them all.
At home, I considered matters. My cupboards were looking bare; I needed food and ingredients for potions. Especially potions to restore magicka; while I didn’t mind getting regular sleep, it got irritating after a while.
“You’re looking good,” Caius said when I returned to him. I certainly was, since I was wearing my armour. “And well equipped, since I have a little job for you. Well, Hasphat Antabolis does, anyway. And while you’re there, ask him if he knows anything about the Nerevarine cult or the Sixth House cult.”
“Or the Oluhan cult?” I filled him in on what I’d learned in Suran.
“That’s a new one on me,” he admitted, “and if you can find out more I’d be grateful. But for now, head over to the Fighters’ Guild and see what old Assfat wants. But don’t call him that,” he added with a grin.
Hasphat was short and to the point. “I’m after a puzzle box,” he explained, “that I’m sure is in the Dwemer ruin of Arkngthand. But my duties here…” he spread his hands and shrugged.
“And then you’ll tell me about the Sixth House and all that?”
He just nodded. “Especially the Sixth House. It’s integral to Morrowind’s history. Oh, wait—” he extracted a book from a chest and gave it to me. “Always know where you came from, Antonia. Those who don’t learn about the past end up repeating it.”
I read the book with interest as I walked north out of Balmora, then eastward towards Moonmoth fort. There was a road that led up to an enormous Dwemer bridge, where I paused.
Someone was on it, and that someone made me nervous. There was something furtive about his stance, as though on watch. I summoned Lilarcor to my side, then started across.
Posted in Articles (Fanfic,Morrowind) by R Cruickshank 01/08/07 08:16 PM Tags: antonia otranto, fanfic, fiction, morrowind
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