Antonia Otranto Part 5: 25 Last Seed: For my Father

Arkngthand was infested with bandits, and I think there’s one still down there too. All things considered, however, the visit was extremely lucrative. Then I swapped the puzzle box for what Antabolis knew about the ‘Sixth House’.

Reading those notes, I was happy I had returned to Balmora. These scum could either be a hindrance, or a help… rather like the Oluhan cult. However, the Nerevarine business he didn’t know or care about — “Raving savages in the desert” were more or less his words — so I handed over the info to Cosades and asked him what to do.

“Hmm… OK, speak with Sharn Gro-Muzgob in the Mage’s Guild. It’ll most likely be the same deal as with old Assfat though.” I went willingly; I was getting the understanding that Morrowind was a cauldron that could boil over any time. Knowledge is power, and I wanted to know what ingredients were stewing away.

Even if it did mean having to talk to an ugly she-Orc.

“Perhaps you can do me a little errand first?” she asked, “I need a particular skull.”

“What for?”

“Uh… my research. Yes, my research… the skull of Levule Andrano, apparently it was treated in a peculiar fashion when he was interred in Andrano Ancestral Tomb. Just… be careful. These dunmer are stranger than Carahil about necromancy.” She shook her head. “They worship their ancestors, and summon the dead to protect them and their tombs, and in the next breath rail against necromancy.”

“Who’s Carahil?”

Sharn scowled. “Some upstart in Cyrodiil. Apparently she has something against the legitimate practices of necromantic research, and she is also aiming to become grandmaster of the guild. If she gets into power…” she shook her head.

Along the way, I reunited a runaway pack guar with his owner, and later on suddenly thought of my old weapons, the mace Lightless Silence, which rendered victims blind and mute, and the sword Freezerburn, which with both frost and fire did dreadful damage to the unfortunate. Taken as trophies, no doubt, or “cleansed”. Still, I could make them anew; and they wouldn’t be as annoying as the cretinous Lilarcor.

For all his idiotic babbling, Lilarcor made short work of most of the undead, and Sharn was right. There was something queer done to Levule’s skull; it was wrapped with blackish cord. On reflection I shouldn’t have made that quip about asking him; Sharn nearly collapsed. I bet the Temple or someone is watching her.

The Nerevarine cults, by the by, are not just savages in the desert. There’s an historic element too; they claim that some general called Nerevar will be reborn and clean out the “false gods” — all four of them. No wonder the Temple cracks down on them as often as they can.

Caius was extremely pleased with my efforts, and not only gave me a promotion, but a little extra weight to my purse. “I need you to go do some work on your cover now,” he added, “before anything else. Say… how about visiting Vos?”

Vos! Of course! This Oluhan business I hadn’t even scratched the surface of. I considered my options, and the next day Violent Maria boated me to Sadrith Mora, from whence I sailed to Tel Mora, then Vos.

I was directed to a creep of a Khajiit who told me to open a rock with a ring he gave me, warned about puzzles, and basically implied that I wouldn’t be fit to join his “lord”. I just shook my head, turned to the tradehouse owner and wangled a hammock for the night.

The next morning I opened my eyes to see a weasel of a Bosmer watching me. “Take it from Smokey Morth,” he said quietly, and grimly, “You don’t want to get involved in this Oluhan crap.”

I just glared at him.

“Fine,” he said with a shrug, “I tried to warn you. I’ve seen Ma’Tesh and his loony friends, and let me tell you, they. Are. Crazy. You’ve got a sensible head on your shoulders, so why are you messing with them?”

“They have my father,” I hissed.

Morth just rolled his eyes and shook his head. “You’re not the only one to fall for that line,” he said and left me.

Posted in Articles (,) by R Cruickshank Feb 24, 10:52 AM Tags: , , ,

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