Shadows of the Sixth House - IC

[FoxWyrd]

The Ministry of Truth - Last Seed 22, 3E 422

You didn't know why you were sent summons to Vivec, but you were, and the person who sent them being even more unusual. Berel Sala has harshly advocated that the city of Vivec be placed under martial law and all except for the Temple Priesthood and the Ordinators be sent away under threat of death. Word hasn't traveled much about why, but everyone has their theories about it. Some say he's concerned about an assassination attempt on Archcanon Saryoni, others think it has to do with the recent troubles near Molag Mar, but nobody knows for certain what his reasoning is, only that his crusade to close off Vivec has created tension all throughout the city and throughout Vvardenfell District as a whole.

When you arrived at Vivec, you were quickly beaten down by the Ordinators. It was as if you had kicked a hornet's nest and a thousand angry, buzzing hornets swarmed you, and when you woke up, you were in some cave. Somewhere away and the Ordinators here--the Inquisitors--have taken turns torturing each of you one-by-one day-in, day-out. They've broken bones, punctured holes, maybe even pulled teeth or cut off digits, as well as of course the magical tortures they've employed, but no matter what you said, they wouldn't stop--they'd just toss you back in the cell with the others who had received these summons.

You probably don't know how long its been. Days...weeks...maybe even months, but today is different. Today you hear fighting in the corridors and screams of pain and gasps for air gargled by blood. Maybe today will be the end to this torment. As the time goes on, the fighting draws nearer and nearer until you see a group of Ordinators covered in blood splatter approach the group of you, the leader of which looks at the others, "These are the ones he sent us for. Sadryn, take the others and scout the area--no survivors. I'll fill these ones in."

One of the other ordinators takes point and leads them off. The one remaining pulls off his helmet to reveal dusty-white hair matted with blood and a face with a long scar going from his right eyebrow to the left end of his lips. He looks at you all once over, inspecting you, examining you, and generally sizing you up. "I'm Alvos Arethi and I'm here on behalf of the Grandmaster. I know you have a lot of questions, but there isn't much time so we need to get through them fast before my team gets back and we leave this place, so let's get to it," he says, looking over his shoulder at the other ordinators. "Let me start though by saying that we're here to rescue you though."

[Spore]

Habasi does not know what she did wrong. Khajiit is innocent of this crime! I want to know where my raiments are. And my companion, Sakhtar.

Habasi is a female Khajiit of small frame, her eyes are milky blue, she appears to be blinded though she moves as confident as one would while seeing. I yearn to see the moons again, by Ja-Kha'jay! If you are here to free us, I bless you with the guidance of Jone. She murmurs a small prayer in Ta'agra and blesses her rescuer.

Casting Guidance on Alvos. Habasi starts the game shaken due to lacking her expensive ornaments.

[Xanyo]

The tall barbarian in the cell slowly stands from where he had been sitting in silence. His hair is a blonde, though it's dirty enough that it's hard to tell. One side of his face is encrusted with dried blood, which cracks as he speaks.

"I was told," he begins with a raspy voice and sour tone, "That the Grandmaster was the one who ordered my arrest. The Nine only know why."

He pauses to cough hard, clearing his throat. He continues speaking, his voice clearer now.

"Bloody politics, is that it? Knives in backs and poison in goblets?"

[Parlortricks]

There had been much fight in Varis when he had woken up in the cell. At first, it seemed to be more like confusion than anything, especially with the Outlanders he had been forced to share his space with. Clearly, there had been some sort of a mistake. It was… Humiliating. But his interactions with the guards became more and more heated – though in Dunmeris, of course. The first time they took him and tossed him back, beaten and bloody, was when most of the fight was gone.

Since then, the Dunmer has just been sitting in whatever he has deemed the most comfortable corner, his breathing labored. Everything hurt. His head hurt, his face hurt, his chest hurt. Sleep, now that was a luxury. Escaped into his own head, he didn't really pay much attention to whatever was going on around him. It took him long, much too long, before all the screams and sounds of battle reached him.

Varis looked up, lifting his face from his knees. It took a moment for his gaze to focus on the approaching figures, their golden armors identical to that of their captors, a stark contrast against the walls of rock. Their faces bearing the same, frozen visage of Indoril Nerevar, once a hero but now just a reminder of all the pain. The fresh blood all over them did not really make them look any better.

He eyed the one who removed his helmet, one who introduced himself as Alvos Arethi. A suppose rescuer. His gaze went around the prison cell as well, actually listening to what the Outlanders said this time. It hung on the Nord for a moment longer, an idea that Varis very much did not want to be a part of, but one that did have an ounce of possibility with it. Perhaps, if this rescue had happened earlier, Varis would have jumped from joy and practically leaped into their arms. But now it almost felt like this could have been yet another way to twist the knife in the wound.

"…Ordinators slaying Ordinators. What proof have I of you not being heretics?" The Dunmer spoke in his tongue, voice as gravelly as a lifetime of breathing in volcanic ash would make it – clearly a Vvardenfell native! No matter what he had suffered at the hands of the Ordinators, they still were Ordinators. That alone did not give him the permission to escape with a bunch of potential rebels who slaughtered all the real Ordinators.

[DoctorFaust]

The thin Imperial sitting cross-legged on a pile of straw hadn't been reacting as the sounds of fighting grew louder, but he still twitches in fear at the first sight of the Ordinators. But when their leader removes his helmet and announces their intentions, Nikodemos' face breaks into a pathetic smile and he scrambles his way to the bars.

"Please, yes, get us out of here," he wheezes through cracked lips. "All of my writs were in order, so I don't know why this was done to me."

[FoxWyrd]

The Ministry of Truth - Last Seed 22, 3E 422

Alvos looks at Varis and says sternly, "Life is about choices and this is a time when you need to make the right one. You stay, they'll kill you. You come, you might have a chance at getting out of this alive, but staying is certain death. Your call."

He looks to the others and sighs. His old eye betrays a lifetime of suffering, of pain, of sacrifice, and there is a wetness in it that he quickly blinks away. "Vivec isn't safe anymore, for any of us, or anyone. I can not tell you more--not here at least--but I can tell you that if you stay, you will die. It isn't a chance or possibility, but instead a certainty. There is a cancer within this city and it will soon fall, just as Molag Mar did, and though my brothers are doing their best to fight it, our only real chance of survival is to escape. If you doubt my words, I ask you look at each other and see what has become of you all in the care of my brothers."

He looks over his shoulder at the dead ordinators and sighs again, shaking his head as he turns to face you all again, "Please--I don't know why Grandmaster Sala called you here, but I do know that whatever his purpose, he genuinely believed it necessary, but look around--my brothers have become marauders driven mad by fear that this place will be as Molag Mar became and they are right, but they don't realize that it isn't you who are the evils. Now I encourage you prepare yourselves, my men will be finished shortly and when they are, we will be teleported to our outpost at Almurbalarammi. I will not force you to come with us but know that this fighting sounded several alarms to my brothers in the Order of Inquisition below and that they will arrive ready to kill anyone and everyone. I encourage you decide quickly if you're with us or if you'd rather take your chances with the Inquisitors."

[Lionheart]

At the ordinator's words, Caius stands from the corner in which he'd been lounging. Since his imprisonment he'd been stony, even silent towards the others. He'd been here before, and knew that no amount of pleading or scheming could help them,only outside assistance.
He ignores the Dunmer in the cell, speaking in their savage language, and shakes his head at his fellow Imperial's pathetic pleading. He stretches his back and acknowledges Alvos. "Don't need to ask me twice dunmer. I've made this deal before. You break my chains, you've got my arm. Give me a polearm, and lets go."

[Spore]

The cat woman looks surprisingly calm in the face of certain death. We have to take our chances, proud dark elf. If we do not trust our saviors, we can still unite against their will, and at least die under the open skies. she says for everyone to understand.

[Xanyo]

Dušan is silent for a little bit, then makes his decision.

"I shall fight whom I must," he declares resolutely, "Get me out; I'll lend my aid where I can. Do you know where they stored our belongings?"

His face is set, certain. Now that he's actually looking up properly, his eyes are visible to be a brilliant blue. He shows no fear, though with a Nord, that doesn't mean he isn't afraid. He starts stretching what he can, warming up and banishing the stiffness of laying immobile in a cell.

[Spore]

If someone needs a few restoration spells, my mentor taught me well. She looks at the beaten up faces all around her, focusses on herself and a swirling pale light mends some of her wounds.

CLW on self: [roll0]

[DoctorFaust]

Nikodemos stands up properly for the first time in days, his knees clicking audibly as he does. "I would say that anything is preferable to death, but our treatment at the hands of the other Ordinators has dissuaded me from that idea. Still, I will join you for as long as I can before my employers track me down and have me return to service."

He nods along with the Nord's words. "I would probably be the least effected by not having my equipment, but nevertheless, I would like them back if you could."

[Parlortricks]

Even if Varis wanted to put on the air that he was in control as he glared at the other Dunmer, it was impossible to argue. He hadn't been able to talk his way out of the cell before, so if Ordinators rushed to the scene and he was still there… Well, it wasn't going to end well for him. The young Dunmer's gaze started drifting downwards, his eyes averted from Alvos. Trusting someone in this kind of a situation was crazy, but he'd never even have a chance if he didn't take what was offered to him.

His eyes shot right back at the Ordinator when he mentioned Molag Mar, even his mouth opening a little as if to speak up, but no sound came. Clearly he thought otherwise about bringing up the subject. But Alvos, he seemed to know something.

Varis' movements were slow and deliberate as he moved his arms in a position where he could even attempt to push himself on his feet, using the wall for support. Pain, it sure was still there, and moving around wasn't making it any better. Only the last remains of his Dunmer pride made sure to not let out a whimper when surrounded by so many Outlanders, but he was still gritting his teeth.

[Spore]

Let Habasi help you. The Khajiit puts her paw on the dark elf's side and waits a few moments. If he doesn't pull away immediately, she starts to heal him too. Habasi understands if you don't trust Khajiit. But see this gift as an investment into our freedom.

CLW of Varis[roll0]

[Parlortricks]

Varis pulled back as if out of reflex – whether it was just because he didn't want to be touched by anyone, much less a Khajiit, or because he was sore enough to find it painful and he wasn't prepared, who knew. But the act of shifting was enough to make him wince, a sharp exhale through his teeth sounding like a hiss. That swift movement, like a stab in his ribs.
"Kh- Watch it, cat!" He growled, proving that he could at least speak a language they all shared, even if accented.

[FoxWyrd]

The Ministry of Truth - Last Seed 22, 3E 422

The Ordinators return and the one leading them, Sadryn, speaks, "Master, the area is secured but we don't have much time."

Alvos looks at him, "Secure any and all stolen belongings. Drathila, as soon as he returns, begin the teleportation."

Sadryn and the others scurry off to get the belongings and Alvos looks at you all. "We'll have your belongings shortly. I encourage you to think comforting thoughts--I know it's hard right now--but if this is your first time experiencing teleportation, it can be a bit rough both physically and psychologically. Now is the time for any last questions."

[Lionheart]

Caius smiles for the first time since his imprisonment, showing his white teeth. "No questions from me boss, I just want to get out of here."

[Spore]

Khajiit would think they would prevent teleportation in the Ministry. Habasi ponders looking at the traitor "Ordinator" quizzically.

[Parlortricks]

"Khajiit thinks wrong," Varis coughed, talking still feeling strange to his aching throat that had done a lot more screaming than talking these days, honestly. It was much easier – and useful – to stop an individual from using such a spell than to try to prevent it in a certain area, after all. He turned his gaze towards Alvos again, still uncertain of whether or not this man truly was an ally.
"…The Daedric Shrine. Is it… Secured?"

[FoxWyrd]

The Ministry of Truth - Last Seed 22, 3E 422

Alvos turns to Varis and nods to answer his question. "We secured it after we were forced to retreat from Molag Mar--the few of us who could--most of my order didn't make it out alive--at least not alive like you and me. When we sent for reinforcements, Grandmaster Sala offered none and sent our messenger back with a bitter response," he says before finally pausing for a deep breath. "If we die at Molag Mar, we die heroes. If we abandon it or in any way retreat without having recovered it, we live as oathbreakers."

Alvos looks down at his feet and shakes his head, kicking the ground and sneering ever so slightly before he looks back at Varis, "He wasn't there. He didn't see what the Sixth House had done--how we were doing the best we could to quarantine the area, but the Sharmat's influence was too much. Every day, there'd be another carrier of the Divine Disease and every day, we'd be forced to put them down, but the the pilgrims revolted. They fought back."

He looks at all of you, "We couldn't stop them--not all of them, for while a single cliff racer can not kill a dragon, a thousand can. And we tried and tried, but we couldn't, and when the Divine Disease worsened and spread--they began to turn. All of them turned. So many of them--even the..." his voice trails off as he speaks and his gaze becomes empty and distant.

"Listen, I don't know what Grandmaster Sala's intentions are with you all, but I know that we can't stand idly by. Molag Mar was a message; it was the Sharmat saying unto us all: Nowhere is safe. Now we need to get to the Shrine--it's the only place we've been safe from our brothers who have forsaken us as Oathbreakers--and it's where we can regroup and organize a plan. I know this is a lot to take in, but we need all the bodies we can get and given the Grandmaster sent for you, there's a reason and we're going to find it."

[Spore]

Breaking your word is a bad thing but I am unsure if it is worth dying without a purpose. The moons guide our fate but free will shape our destiny. I am curious what you mean by Sharmat but I have learned about the disease infesting these lands before I came to these lands.

Habasi closes in on the teleporting party: I am afraid your words don't make much sense to us.

Really unsure how much we know about either Corprus, Dagoth Ur and the Sixth House.

[Parlortricks]

Varis gritted his teeth as he listened, an expression of unease on his face. Even if the others didn't understand, he certainly did. Of course, the story might have been a lie – and perhaps it would have been better, if it were. Right now, he couldn't tell, and he was forced to give the Ordinators the benefit of the doubt. The weight of it all was so much the Dunmer couldn't bring himself to look into Alvos' eyes the further he got, his gaze drifting towards the floor.

He did glance at the Khajiit, once she brought up that she didn't quite get all the terms. Outlanders.
"Dagoth Ur," Varis grumbled and spat on the ground beside him. Further explanations could wait, if they still were needed. Hopefully at least that name rung a few bells. He turned to Alvos.
"Does the Redoran Council know about this? We are sworn allies of the Temple and would do anything we can to eradicate that which is the Sixth House, we–"

Though help from House Redoran didn't seem that likely, considering the story this far.

[Spore]

Habasi understands you do not trust us but we feel that this is the wrong time for secrecy. the Khajiit quips at the Dunmer speaking his own language. Don't you agree, my friends?

[FoxWyrd]

The Ministry of Truth - Last Seed 22, 3E 422

"I don't know what the Redorans know or don't know, but I know they're still loyal to the Temple," Alvos says.

The Ordinators return with your gear and dispense it to each of you.

Alvos continues, "Get your gear on and we'll teleport out. Drathila, prepare for teleportation."

[Xanyo]

Dušan is quick to reclaim his gear, throwing on the cloak and shouldering his pack. He doesn't waste time putting on the light armor among his gear, electing to shove it in with everything else. His personal clothing, too, he stows: there would be time for that when they were clear. He claims his greataxe with a grin, hefting it and feeling its familiar weight. Spells have their virtues, but so does good solid steel.

"I'm set," he confirms gruffly, "Wouldn't want to linger here."

[DoctorFaust]

Nikodemos likewise shrugs on his cloak and the few other magical trinkets he owns, but does try to get his armor on. He doesn't bother to get everything set right, but he does make sure to pull the cowl and mask high up on his face to hide all his new scars.

[Parlortricks]

Varis glanced to the side. Molag Mar was a subject that wasn't supposed to be talked about, but he wasn't high ranking enough to know if its fate was known to anyone outside the Ordinators. At the very least, it seemed like he should go and confirm the story with his own eyes and relay back any information that he might gain.

And of course he gave the cat a good, long glare along with some grumblings. Asking him to speak to his fellow mer in a language that everyone understood, whine whine…

The Dunmer hadn't worried about his gear while he had been preoccupied with, oh, what was basically torture, but now that he saw it being brought back to him, he was quite relieved. Losing everything he had wasn't a talk he wanted to have with those who provided said gear to him in the first place. Getting dressed up wasn't as much of a relief, however. Still in pain, Varis had to take it quite slow as he started strapping the light chitin armor on him, all those twists of his body sending a sharp pain through him. Hardly the best job, considering that the rest of the group was hurrying along as well. He finished by retying his hair so it would be more comfortable underneath his helmet, which he then pulled over his head.

[Spore]

Habasi dresses herself in a slow and almost ritualistic manner. First a shirt that was enchanted with some fortification of speed that would take time to align itself with her body. Then a simple but elegant yellow robe with short sleeves and a shorter than average skirt, perfect for free movements during combat. Over all of that, she dons her hide armor and casts a spell* onto her necklace before donning it.

After all that, she picks through her backpack and sits down quietly, eating a sweetroll. When someone looks at her strange, she claims: You think of nice places for teleportation, Habasi eats comfort food. before digging in.

Habasi casts Oracle's Burden (https://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/o/oracle-s-burden/)

[Lionheart]

Caius' smile grows wider as his equipment is returned. He pulls on his breastplate and gives his treasured bardiche a couple of swings to make sure it's still as well-balanced as it was when the Dunmer took it from him.
He's not really been following the conversation, the internal strife of the dark elves doesn't concern him. It does seem to him that moving elsewhere among them might not be the best idea if there's likely to be more battle within their ranks.

He inserts himself into the conversation with a smile, choosing to ignore the strange khajiit on the floor. "I can't pretend to understand most of what you're talking about, but I think our best option would probably be Pelagiad. As an imperial citizen, I think the legion should really hear about this sooner than later. If the Dunmer can't handle things among their own, then we'll just have to step in and do it ourselves." He remains smiling, but there's an edge in his words. This was a province of the empire, and it was clear that they were currently failing in their responsibilities to govern and maintain the peace. "As usual."

[Parlortricks]

Varis did glance in the cat's direction as it all of a sudden decided to start munching on dessert. The helmet masked his eyeroll, but his grumblings might have suggested that he had an issue with it – but then again, what didn't he have an issue with when it came to the Khajiit? Already one was munching on sugar the second she got her grubby paws on her stash…

And he totally wasn't jealous of her fancy clothes. Must have stolen them. Clearly.

Varis gave a quick check to his weapons before affixing everything related to them in their rightful places, trying to keep to himself when the outlanders talked about their outlander things he wanted no part of. But it was impossible to ignore, his ears picking up on the words and the agitation just growing stronger inside him until the Dunmer broke his silence.
"Of course you don't understand, Cyrodiil! He hissed at the Imperial. Someone certainly was getting their wish of having Varis use a common tongue among them, though that tongue seemed a bit clumsy in his mouth.
"The dogs of your empire do nothing of value. Know nothing of value. Stick their noses where they don't belong and make mess of things without offering anything in return. Do they patrol the Ghostfence, the Ashlands? Brave the Blight and slay the beasts? They do not. They sit in their barracks, getting fat and lazy."

There was a moment of pondering, before he continued.
"Fatter and lazier," the Dunmer corrected his previous sentence, continuing to glare in the Imperial's direction.
"You are slow in the mind and hard of hearing. Our destination has been set. Almurbalarammi."

[DoctorFaust]

"Your sacred institutions have no issues with the Cyrodiil doing their work," Nikodemos remarks. "Anyone with the skill and honor are welcome among the Foresters. I was one of them, despite being an outsider."

[Parlortricks]

"You?" Varis spat out, though the tone of his voice wasn't entirely hostile. He turned his gaze towards the other Imperial, studying the man from head to toe. True, he could be lying about his position. But he could not. It wasn't unheard of, after all. Uncommon, but not impossible. That was the only thing keeping him from just calling the man a liar. After all, if there was an outlander who was willing to accept and learn their customs and traditions, it was… Good. Better than the other Imperial in the room, for certain. Varis' posture shifted slightly, his muscles less tense now.

"If your words speak truth, I commend you. But know this. It is not any n'wah or Imperial invaders that keeps you safe from the Sharmat. It is the Three and our Ancestors who protect this soil, its people – and you outlanders. Cyrodiil prefer shuffling papers to ash storms and sacrifices. Show some respect."

[Spore]

Habasi looks at the argument unfolding before her, quietly and happily munching on her sweetroll. As Varis brings up the Tribunal, she adds plainly. Sometimes saving is not the job of the gods but your very own. A dagger from the darks has silenced many who threatened the good people of our lands.

She produces another sweetroll from her bag. You seem grumpy, you must be hungry. she offers her treat to Varis.

[FoxWyrd]

Almurbalarammi - Last Seed 22, 3E 422

You are all jerked into an empty blackness and spit out in a wide open room within a Daedric Shrine. There's temporary blindness at first--a moment or two at most before you can see again--and when you can, you see there's not many people here. Maybe two dozen ordinators and a group of hungry, tired people huddled around each other and eating bowls of saltrice soup. There are more of these tired people than there are ordinators and this humble shrine is more than crowded, but Alvos looks to you all.

"I welcome you to our outpost," he says with a sigh as he looks around. "As you can see--things have been better, but they persevere." He looks at the hungry people with the saltrice soup as he says that, a twinge of pain in his voice.

"You are not prisoners here, but I would like to extend to you all whatever hospitality we can while you're with us and I hope that you can find it within yourself to help us," Alvos says. "But if not, I will respect your decision."

[Spore]

Your people are suffering. If you have any wounded or other ill, maybe my restoration magic can help. Habasi says. She offers her sweet roll to a hungry adolescent with the words. Please share. Your ancestors would like you to think about your brethren. The khajiit smiles whether or not the young dunmer accepts the gift, refuses or ruins the piece of bakery.

[Parlortricks]

Varis continues grumbling at the Khajiit's words, sounding about as annoyed as ever. Outlanders always thought they knew best when they didn't even know what was going on or what was already being done.
"Your sugar does not interest me, Khajiit," he huffed at the offered pastry – though maybe he was currently more annoyed at the fact that she was treating him more like a child…

As the group was ready to teleport, Varis braced himself. It wasn't his first time, but he certainly rather rode a guar for hours if he had the opportunity to choose. There was a pull and an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach, a moment that most likely was just an instant but felt like it lingered on for just a bit too long before he felt himself able to draw more air into his lungs. An act that caused him to grit his teeth, his everything still bruised from his earlier beatings.

They certainly were in a Daedric shrine. There were no windows to let sunlight in, dark, cut stone surrounding them all. Sharp angles intermixed with more natural, rounded shapes – as far as one could work stone at least – and odd decisions for the placement of columns and… Everything. Asymmetric and oddly lopsided, as if nothing was built to satisfy the eyes of mortals. Did anything really have a purpose or were things built just for the sake of building things? Who knew. The sources of light cast a purplish sheen on the sleek surfaces, bringing out the details of etched swirls and symbols on the walls.

And they weren't alone. Ordinators and commoners, they all had taken refuge. Varis gave their surroundings a quick scan, and it certainly didn't look like a group of misfits worshipping troublesome Daedra. He turned to Alvos.
"…I will judge with my own eyes. But you have helped me and I owe help in return. What is it you need?"

[FoxWyrd]

Almurbalarammi - Last Seed 22, 3E 422

Alvos looks at Varis, "We're in need of an escort for the civilians amongst us." He gestures to the group of hungry people.

"We've made arrangements with the Telvanni in Sadrith Mora, but we need someone to take them. Baris Taluen will be the one who has made lodging arrangements for them and we would go ourselves, but we can't risk being spotted by the Temple. Would you all be willing to escort them?"

[Spore]

Most certainly, Alvos. And when Khajiit's good friend Varis is done being incredibly disrespectful towards help and food in the presence of others who need both, we can start already. Habasi's relaxed tone turns a bit sharper. She goes to check what time of day it is.

[Lionheart]

Caius isn't used to teleportation. In fact, he's something of a stranger to all magic, seeing it as uncanny and untrustworthy, pretty much how Varis appeared to see their khajiit companion...

He takes a moment to steady himself within the shrine, grimacing at the darkness, and struggling to quail the fear in his heart at what that darkness represents. The people here though, that was something he could understand. Fear, hunger, exhaustion. These things both slaves and refugees had in common, and the Imperial resolved to aid these people, Dunmer or no.

He had managed to ignore the Dunmer prisoner's jibes and seemingly baseless anger, he didn't need to argue over Cyrodil supremacy; it was obvious to all who knew of the Empire, but it was probably best to keep out of such topics with the dark elf, in case he got a little too passionate...

Cursing himself for his soft heart, he takes some trail rations from his pack and passes them out to the hungriest among the crowd, nodding to his fellow Imperial prisoner as he does so. "Nicodemus was it? Seems we've got ourselves in quite the pickle..." he speaks up louder, to ensure that the ordinators can hear his words, ""I've got no problem with escort duty, especially not if it's to help those as can't help themselves. While Sadrith Mora's not Pelagiad, I'll be able to make my report at Wolverine Hall anyway."

[DoctorFaust]

Nikodemos nods his agreement to Alvos. "I already gave my word to help and breaking it would shame me. I will happily help to escort."

"And it's Nikodemos, but yes," he says in reply to the other Imperial. "This wouldn't be an easy situation to extract ourselves from, even if I wanted to. I had no idea the Ordinators had fallen so far, so fast."

[Parlortricks]

Varis frowned at the mention of the Telvanni and Sadrith Mora. It never was too enjoyable to set foot on their lands, but he had a feeling that the Telvanni were the only ones currently willing to help. A horrible thought, that, if these people truly had done nothing wrong. The Dunmer didn't think he was in any shape to really properly travel, but looking at the people they were supposed to escort… They didn't look much better, honestly.

The Khajiit agreed to the job quickly, however – and delivered quite the jab at Varis, who was left spluttering without a worthy comeback. Maybe there was an ounce of truth in the cat's words, but he couldn't bring himself to admit that.

In an attempt to distract himself from that horrible feeling, the Dunmer shuffled through his bag for a map of Vvardenfell. An old, well-used map for sure, with plenty of hand-written notes dispersed throughout as he unrolled it in his hands and looked for any surface where he could allow it to stay open.
"This area isn't as familiar," he started – and indeed, there were many more marks written on the western side of the island,
"But there are few options. If there are boats, around Azura's Coast to Sadrith Mora. If there are no boats, south to Tel Branora and rent boats, maybe a guide. Many rocks around the islands, so there is danger," Varis used his finger to point in their general starting position on the southeastern coast and draw lines on the suggested routes.

"Costs drakes. No drakes, we walk. Mountains and rocks make it difficult to go straight to the coast. Easier to take the foyadas of Molag Amur in north, good for walking, bad for foraging. Need all the supplies taken with us. Still need to cross the water to Sadrith Mora, but low tide could make us a path. Ashlanders in Molag Amur might know, if we find them. Or they might attack us. Aggressive people there."


[roll0]

[FoxWyrd]

Almurbalarammi - Last Seed 22, 3E 422

You estimate it'll take a week or two by foot.

Alvos looks at you all and gives a faint smile, "This is the first good news I've heard in a long, long time. I'll have the civilians ready to go by morning so that you all can get some rest and we'll give you what supplies we have--it's not much but if you're sparing with it, it should get you all through to Sadrith Mora."


Everyone roll Perception Checks. Target number is 15.

[Parlortricks]

[roll0]
I just posted so I uh, don't have anything to post yet. In case something like this happens again, would you rather we roll in the OOC thread or just post here like this?

[Spore]

While Habasi is introducing herself to an obviously scared child and its father pulling the child away from the Khajiit, Habasi notices something. She starts a low growl.

[roll0]

[Lionheart]

Perception 1d20+7 [roll0]

[Spore]

As she only spots a scared commoner, Habasi relaxes if only by a bit. Who exactly is this Baris Taluen? A Telvanni mage, yes? How can he help? the cat woman inquires.

[FoxWyrd]

Almurbalarammi - Last Seed 22, 3E 422

Alvos unintentionally flares his nostrils at the question, but he resumes his standard tired expression. "Baris is an influential merchant who is engaging in a rather philanthropic endeavor with these people," he says. "He's no mage, but he's definitely a friend we could use right now."

"Now then," he continues. "Will there be any more questions?"

[Parlortricks]

Varis caught the reaction to the name from one of the civilians, but made no moves to indicate that he did. The cat was quick to ask who the person they were supposed to meet was, but Alvos didn't really give them much information. Varis' gaze lingered on the other Dunmer for a moment.
"…It will take a week, at least. Maybe two. That's how much we need to get there. Telvanni territory might allow for restocking, but it will be a pain for different reasons," he turned the discussion back to the travel plans, disdain in his voice for House Telvanni.

"Could use fresh air. Where is the exit?"

And a bath. He could definitely use a bath, or at least just a little bit of water to wash off the dried blood and who-knew-what-else off him. If he wasn't completely wrong, the shore should have been very close to the shrine…

[Xanyo]

The Nord was silent for a long time, before finally speaking.

"I'm sorry, I got a bit lost there," he apologizes, "I heard something about politics, then something else about politics, and overall something about escorting a group of bystanders or something. That last part sounds fine to me. What sort of hazards would we be watching for?"

[Parlortricks]

Varis looked over his shoulder at the Nord, who had been thankfully silent until now.
"No water. Lava. Ash storms. Less living, but sometimes animals wander in. Especially Cliffracers. Big area with few people, so might not run into anyone, but there are Ashlanders and anyone crazy enough to hide in the rocks. Could be trouble."

The Dunmer looked back at Alvos. If he had been stationed at Molag Mar, he had been closer to Molag Amur and should have known about what else might be going on around there at the moment.
"Unless something has changed?"

[FoxWyrd]

Almurbalarammi - Last Seed 22, 3E 422

Alvos points at the door up the steps before he starts in response to Varis' next question.

"That sounds about right, but the Sixth House is getting bolder lately. That's why I want these civilians out before they get involved in the crossfire again."

[Spore]

While Varis and Dusan are happily chatting with Alvos, Habasi leaves the group in the direction where the concerned commoner was standing. After a bit of asking around she tries to signal him to break away from the group for a short chat. You do not look good, my friend. Let Habasi check you for disease, you need your strength for the journey ahead. I have heard many things about Baris. That he really likes men and mer. Is that correct?

[FoxWyrd]

Almurbalarammi - Last Seed 22, 3E 422

The Commoner whispers to Habasi, "Listen, I'm not here to start any trouble but there's a reason Baris is held in such high regard by the Telvanni. I'm not going to go into it, but I'm not going with you all and if you've got a drop of conscience in your body, you won't take these people to that fetcher either."

[Spore]

Do you assume he does to you what Dunmer like to do with Argonians and Khajiit? Habasi is extremely concerned but silent. Promise you come with us. This wasteland feels too dangerous alone. Habasi will do her best to change the course of the trek to Pelagiad or an Imperial fort. Why are we even here? I do not think daedric princes care for slaves? Also pretend you are a bit sickly.

By the moons! Let's hope nothing bit you then. she says a bit louder and then pushing his sleeve up.

[Parlortricks]

Varis gave Alvos a nod, done with the conversation for now. He left his map open to be ogled at and found himself a nice corner or something where he could lower his backpack on the floor – very carefully – and start peeling off his armor – equally as carefully. It was a bit easier to mask his signs of discomfort with a helmet on, but his motions clearly were stiff and careful. Everything was arranged in a neat pile and the Dunmer finished by taking a set of replacement clothes with him.

Current plan? Go outside, find the shore, do a quick wash – including an attempt at some of the bigger stains on his clothes, but he did want them dry for tomorrow's travel and couldn't give them a proper rinse. No one cared about how he looked, but he just wanted to… Wash everything off. Assuming everything was fine, that was all he wanted to do before returning back to the interiors of the shrine.

[FoxWyrd]

Almurbalarammi - Last Seed 22, 3E 422

The Commoner jerks his arm back and looks at Habasi sharply with a shake of his head. He whispers, "Not a chance. I'm not going back."

[Spore]

Habasi tries to calm him. I want to get some fresh air, where is the exit here, my good man? She nods carefully. Outside of the shrine and out of reach of the others, she asks. I will prevent anyone from looking for you, if you can lend me your aid and tell me where we should guide these poor people then.

[FoxWyrd]

Almurbalarammi - Last Seed 22, 3E 422

He follows her out a few minutes after. When he arrives, he says to her, "Suran is northwest of here, but you'd be going near Molag Mar and I don't think most of these people would be willing to go near it."

""But there's good, honest work in Suran. My older brother is an egg miner out there and he says that they're always looking for more people," He pauses for a moment before continuing. "Also, Baris? He's an importer of slaves--I actually used to be one of the Purchasers before I left that life behind and let me tell you--non-Beast slaves are a very valuable commodity for the Telvanni due to their normal biology. No offense."

[Spore]

Normal....biology? Habasi was no stranger to the offending things the dunmer said about her, but this was not meant to be offensive...did he just suggest they were slaves for ... and the dark elves call Khajiit uncivilised. Her eyes narrow. Thank you very much. I cannot do much for you except pray for the moons to guide your path.

As Habasi returns, she signals her friends to come to her. Alvos, we need to discuss our imprisonment. Maybe we can understand why Vivec's minions were so rude to us.

[FoxWyrd]

Almurbalarammi - Last Seed 22, 3E 422

"I'm not sure, to be honest, but I know the Grandmaster has been--tense--since Molag Mar," Alvos says.

[Parlortricks]

Varis returned shortly after leaving, slightly more refreshed now, his hair damp and his previous clothes in hand. He deposited them in his little pile of stuff, with the intent of doing a little maintenance on his gear, before the cat motioned for them to come over to continue talking. Of course he was no obedient dog of Khajiit, and his initial sneer was an attempt at telling her that.

But seeing that it was a conversation that might be worth having, he eventually slunk over to the rest…

"At first I thought it a Hlaalu prank. Fake letters. Outlanders trying to see the Grandmaster with their lies and they think I am a part of them, showing up saying the same lie," Varis spoke, indeed having just thought that it all had been a grave misunderstanding and he had been caught in all of it as a casualty. No amount of explanations had managed to save him, though. He looked at Alvos.
"But you say the letters are real? Where is Grandmaster Berel Sala?"

[FoxWyrd]

Almurbalarammi - Last Seed 22, 3E 422

"I don't know where he is, but I assume Vivec. We haven't spoken since the messenger came back."

[Spore]

And why did you decide to free us? Habasi does not think you said to yourself: "Let's go into the safest place of Morrowind and free wanted criminals because we need guards."

[Parlortricks]

"He told us he was on the behalf of the Grandmaster, when he came," Varis glanced at the cat. True, things were still strange, but Alvos' motivation didn't strike him as something that was off.
"Grandmaster supposedly called us to Vivec. Grandmaster supposedly ordered our arrest. Grandmaster supposedly sent for saviors to save us from his supposed orders. All that cannot be the work of one sane mer. If only our arrest was not his doing, then that makes things very strange – if he is in Vivec, where the Ordinators he controls also offered us their… Hospitality."

"He could have stopped it. If he couldn't, why?"

[DoctorFaust]

The other imperial had wandered over at some point in the conversation between Hasabi, Varis, and Alvos and takes this opportunity to insert himself into it. It couldn't be that...well...Grandmaster Sala was infected? Nikodemos volunteers. "I haven't seen it, but I have heard the Corprus affects the mind as well as the body."

[Xanyo]

Now that they were in a more secured location, Dušan begins to armor himself in his light, clothlike getup. Hardly a typical armor in Skyrim; he had obtained it from a Khajiit smuggler. He hadn't asked where the cat got it from. The armor appears to be made from some kind of tough leaf and bark. As he tightens some of the straps, he chimes in on the conversation.

"Are you saying the Mer in the position of authority around here may be mad?" he inquires with a sardonic tone, "How nice. More seriously though, I got the impression that there's a schism in whatever this order is; that hampers communication. This grandmaster may have been blind to our arrival."

Once he finishes with his armor, the Nord inspects his axe - a great brute of a battleaxe, and a rather nice one too.

[Parlortricks]

Varis eyed the Imperial who suggested the Grandmaster to have caught the Divine Disease, frowning.
"That it does. It is sickness of the soul," he told the man, confirming the stories of what Corprus did to one's mind,
"But to be that far gone without anyone noticing and suddenly having a moment of sanity? That doesn't seem right. He would not have had to even get any help from outside. Ordinators answer to him."

To think that the Grandmaster of Ordinators would have been afflicted… That itself sounded like a crazy idea! Surely it could not have been so. Things weren't adding up, for certain. It was all sounding very off.

The Nord that Varis had already praised as someone quiet in his mind decided to crush any hope of presenting himself as a rare oddity of his race. The Dunmer glared at the man with much hatred, his red eyes narrow with a gaze that could pierce flesh.
"What I am implying, Nord, is that it does not sound like the work of a single person, if this is the truth currently present to us."

[Spore]

The Khajiit looks at the others in disbelief. What Habasi is saying is why did ALVOS free us?

[Parlortricks]

"…When he came to us, he said he was there on the behalf of the Grandmaster. The 'why' seems very clear to me, cat," Varis narrowed his gaze as he glanced at the Khajiit, before turning to look at Alvos,
"Though it seems that it was not something discussed in person?"

[FoxWyrd]

Almurbalarammi - Last Seed 22, 3E 422

Alvos frowns at Habasi's questions and shakes his head as a scowl spreads across as his face. He turns to Habasi before he addresses the group, despite focusing his stare at Habasi, "I will not explain the details of what happened at Molag Mar, but I will tell you that it was not a surprise. We knew the Sixth House was gearing up to strike and I, as the Master of War, advised him to begin recruiting mercenaries--preferably without ties to the Temple--in order to have them infiltrate the Sixth House. He did as I advised and sent out hundreds of letters, but you were the only ones who responded."

He takes a breath and sighs before continuing, "The few of my friends in the Holy City told me when you arrived and what happened. Given I had placed you in danger in the first place and that I recognized the opportunity you still presented, I chose to retrieve you. I've got a war to fight and I need soldiers--but more importantly--I need spies. And that's you. That's why I rescued you from the Inquisition."

[Parlortricks]

"Infiltrate?" Varis frowned. Infiltrating the Sixth House sounded… Very dangerous. Something that could prove effective? Well, perhaps. But even if they weren't found out, that didn't mean they would ever be able to leave. Whatever they did, the followers of the Sixth House rarely seemed to be very sane. And then there was Corprus…

He looked around, inspecting the same people he had been imprisoned with. All outlanders, and just a handful of them, at that. How many letters had truly managed to get out and reach their intended recipient? Perhaps outlanders could throw away letters from the Grandmaster, but surely no native would do the same?

Well, perhaps the Ashlanders would.

"…The Sixth House hates outlanders. Have they started taking in suicidal and self-hating fools?"

[FoxWyrd]

Almurbalarammi - Last Seed 22, 3E 422

"It's a long shot," Alvos says. "But it's the best we've got. We've tried to send ordinators to infiltrate and they've not returned and eventually stopped responding entirely; I believe using Outlanders and Ashlanders as opposed to Temple Dunmer may provide a different result."

He continues, "Besides, they're growing bolder with each day and the Divine Disease doesn't discriminate; their primary goal is cultural unity, even if racial unity is a secondary goal, so if you can feign your way into their ranks then you could get us the intel we need."

[Parlortricks]

"I'm not an Ashlander," Varis' voice was quieter as he glanced to the side. He… Didn't seem to be the kind of a person they had been looking for. In fact, he was quite the opposite. If sending different people made Alvos hope for a different outcome, that was something he couldn't help the Ordinator with.

If he even wanted to. It sounded like a quick way to get killed – or worse.

The Dunmer shook his head, maybe just as an attempt to get such thoughts out of his mind.
"But that is not important now. We just need to prepare for Sadrith Mora."

[Spore]

What is there to prepare? I don't think these people have much, and we don't either. Unless Alvos can provide something...

[Parlortricks]

"They're giving us what they have," Varis replied to the cat. That much they knew – and that it wasn't going to be much, but hopefully just enough.
"But I mean other kind of preparing. Physical. Rest," he continued. As much as he hated to admit it, especially when the outlanders seemed to be running around just fine without a worry in the world… He wasn't very fine after what had been done to them. Hardly fit for travel, but they didn't have the luxury of waiting.

[FoxWyrd]

Almurbalarammi - Last Seed 22, 3E 422

Alvos looks at Habasi, "There's little we can give you to help you but the promise that you'll be freeing us up to redirect our efforts towards the next sight where we suspect the Sixth House will attack."

[Spore]

We are in your debt, and we will help these poor souls. If we rest, Khajiit can help a few injured ones. If we don't, I should save my Magicka.

[FoxWyrd]

Almurbalarammi - Last Seed 22, 3E 422

"Rest," Alvos says. "We'll awaken you at dawn."

[Spore]

Habasi nods and spends the rest of the day helping the injured and sick if they allow it.

[Parlortricks]

Varis started to put back his map that he had left open for others to investigate in case they had wanted a better look at their planned path, and while he had been doing many things slowly, right now it seemed more like he was intentionally wasting time. There was some hesitation in his eyes, thinking if he really should be voicing his concerns, while he waited for everyone to disperse. Eventually, it seemed like he decided he should get on with it, turning to Alvos and speaking in a lower voice.
"Are you sure about the Telvanni? That it will be… Safe?"

[FoxWyrd]

Almurbalarammi - Last Seed 22, 3E 422

Alvos looks at Varis carefully and nods, but pauses for a moment. He begins to speak and the tone is almost fatherly, "No evils the Telvanni may do unto you can damage who you are, but I know you're still frightened. Rest assured that Baris' name carries a great deal of weight behind it within the political arenas of our home and that few save the ancient wizard-lords would dare act against him, and even they take pause to contemplate if such an act is wise."

[Parlortricks]

Varis frowned slightly when he was described as being frightened – what Redoran, what Dunmer wanted to have such a word to describe them? He was just being… Cautious! It was the Telvanni after all! They did whatever they wished, with no respect for how things should be done.

"I… See," Varis glanced aside. What else could he do than to accept Alvos' words? Surely an Ordinator would not trust people lightly or send those he wished to protect where they would not survive. He would still be cautious himself, of course. He knew the Telvanni…
"I will not worry about it as much, then. You know where to find me, if needed," the Dunmer nodded and took his leave, returning to where he had already placed down his bag and armor.

The rest of the time he spent grabbing something to eat – and hoping that whatever bread he had stashed away was still edible – and patching together any small rips in his travel clothes while also letting them to dry from his earlier attempts at cleaning any larger stains. He also checked if any items his guar had might have been relocated with his other belongings…

[Spore]

As Varis leaves the Ordinator and has settled for a bit, Habasi meets him in a secluded area of the shrine. You do not like Habasi, and Khajiit can accept that, but there is something a fugitive told me that you should know, Varis.

The Khajiit sits cross-legged and the dark elf is not sure if she is meditating, half asleep or pumped full of drugs. Next to her, a big Senche Tiger clad in chain armor is sleeping. As the dunmer closes in on Habasi, the big cat lifts his head and yawns at the newcomer with disinterest.

As an invitation Habasi has placed a decorative pillow in front of her for her 'guest' to sit on. The corner is almost unlit, and if Varis has difficulty navigating, the blind priest Habasi will light a small staff leaning on the side of her resting place with a spell.

We have to set aside our differences if we want to survive the trek and protect those fugitives. she closes, looking at Varis expectantly. Which is weird to say for a blind cat. Habasi never told you how her eyesight got so bad. You don't assume she got a glimpse of an Elder Scroll but only she can say for sure.

[Parlortricks]

Varis raised an eyebrow as the Khajiit spoke up and addressed him, puzzled and clearly not having expected to have conversations with, well, any of them, really. They hadn't exactly been doing that whole conversations thing while in captivity, after all. …Well, maybe there were attempts, but Varis had been blocking that stuff out…

But as he took a better look at the cat, there was an even bigger surprise waiting for him. There was… Another cat. A big one. One that hadn't existed previously. At first he thought that perhaps the darkness was playing tricks to his eyes, but no. Even as they adjusted, it was still there.

He wasn't really feeling like the Khajiit was full of drugs as much as he was feeling that he was the drugged one.

"…What is that," Varis croaked, the only thing that he really could comment on at the moment.

[Spore]

Baris is a slaver, and the fugitive suggests Alvos is herding the people to Sadrith Mora to enslave them. Khajiit was many things but a mere henchwoman is none of them. Even if slavery is legal here, Habasi is no slave hunter. Alvos freed us, but we do owe him, these people do not.

[Parlortricks]

Varis blinked at the cat's explanation. He did indeed get a explanation, but not exactly to the question he had truly asked.
"I meant the… Nevermind," he rubbed his temples. There… There was another animal with the Khajiit, wasn't there? It was odd and out of place, right? He wasn't just losing his mind here?

"I will give you this, Khajiit. I worry about the Telvanni, I worry about them and this group. Telvanni ways are strange and not fit for lawful Dunmer. Telvanni make their own laws and if you cannot keep what is yours, they might take it. Including freedom," the Dunmer lowered his hand and looked at the cat. Their group of refugees was weak, and who knew what those crazy people could come up with when they saw them.

"I do not know Baris. But I am honor bound."