Rastislav
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Interlude I: Roadside Ramblings
🕑 Added 2023-10-09 14:10:38 +0000 UTCA/n: I was going to have this chap be the whole dungeon crawl, but as usual I went on a tangent... sorry not sorry? :D
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(General POV)
The noisy cacophony of the northern Morthal marshes was broken suddenly and mercilessly by three sets of feet marching across its soggy and most likely poisonous grounds. Having left the small boat they used to travel here from Solitude the trio was forced to come face to face against the most unwelcoming of Skyrim's biomes.
"Ugh!" A young Altmer grunts in disgust "This place smells terrible!"
The old Dunmer behind him scrunches his nose "The sentiment is shared young man." He looks around curiously "How anyone could reasonably make this place their home I will never understand..."
"That statement rings hollow coming from a Dunmer." A red haired Nord quips, her face free of the discomfort her companions were feeling, having long since gotten used to discomfort and hardship, a part of the young woman was even happy to be back in the familiar muck "Personally I prefer a stinking marsh to an ashen hellscape covered in gigantic dead mushrooms."
The old elf shrugs dismissively "I would not expect you to understand, Morrowind wasn't always in the sorry state it is today."
"You sound like you experienced it." Minthara raises an eyebrow.
Daynas nods with a nostalgic smile "Indeed, the times under the false tribunal were both wondrous and prosperous for my people, two hundred years have passed yet I still see it clear as day" his smile turns into a disgusted scowl "If only Vivec didn't hold my people hostage the lands would never have become a 'hellscape' but such are the wiles of false gods."
Marco winces "I heard about that, our teacher once ranted about the 'autistic femboy with the identity crisis throwing a temper tantrum'" He scratches his chin "To be entirely fair I only understood a couple of those words but I can easily gleam that Vivec is not well liked by most."
The old Dunmer chuckles tiredly "Indeed, the honorable Reyvin has features no doubt belonging to the old nobility. I would not be surprised if his house suffered greatly due to Vivec's actions."
Marco blinks "You think he is a noble?"
Daynas merely shrugs in response "Possibly someone from a minor house" He tilts his head "Maybe even a Hlaalu descendant." he stills for a moment only to see Minthara eviscerate a large mudcrab attempting to ambush them. She waves for him to continue and he clears his throat, hiding a wince at the young woman's surprising strength, and goes on "Most Dunmer have rough features, our skin sunbaked and our voices coarse."
"And our esteemed teacher has none of those features" Marco interrupts.
"Quite" The old Mer responds, just a tad miffed at the interruption.
"So what you are saying is..." Minthara smirks maliciously "That Reyvin is a pampered noble fop?"
Daynas shakes his head rapidly, looking appalled by the idea "Do not be so foolish as to discard the nobles of Morrowind young lady" He lectures "While they may avoid exposing themselves to the elements as much as the common Mer, they are all skilled and powerful." he hums wistfully "They have to be... In the life of a noble of Resdayn, to be incompetent is to be killed."
They resumed in thoughtful silence, their trek interrupted only by the errant mudcrab or slaughterfish. They came close to encountering a spriggan but the old Mer had them skirt around its range as to best avoid it, those creatures were feared for good reason.
Their determined march continued through the night, none of the three willing to sleep in the open swamp. When the sun set they were beset by large mosquitoes, the annoying creatures so hardened by the northern climate that they could be outright deadly in large numbers.
Thankfully Minthara had recently learned the wind cloak spell, and she spent most of the night constantly activating and deactivating the costly spell in an attempt to avoid the vile things.
As the sun rose once more the exhausted trio finally reached their destination, a dilapidated stone structure buried into the marshy ground, likely kept from being overgrown by the powerful magic emanating from inside.
"Here we are!" The old Mer scholar said excitedly "The tomb of Mirkul Gauldursson, one of the three cursed sons of Archmage Gauldur."
"To think they would murder their own father for power" Minthara scowls "No true Nord could stoop that low."
"You will find" Daynas chuckles derisively "That surprisingly many would betray their own, with sufficient motivation of course."
Minthara looks ready to gut punch the old Mer, the very idea of someone killing their family offending her deeply, but Marco positions himself between them and raises his hands placatingly, mostly toward his fellow student "Now now Minthara, there is no need to get agitated, I am sure the old man is merely cynical due to his advanced age." He stares at the scholar pleadingly.
The elder, remembering he was supposed to be the mature one, looks away "Yes, of course, do forgive an old Mer's rambling."
They set up camp in silence, wordlessly agreeing to take a long rest before even stepping into the most likely heavily trapped and defended tomb.
As Minthara doses off, Marco looks at the old scholar curiously "You said that the Morrowind nobles are special, would you care to elaborate?"
The old Mer nods happily as he chews some dried rations "I am always happy to talk about my homeland's glory days"
He goes on to explain the strengths and roles of the five great houses, telling tales of their ups and downs, and when it came to the Hlaalu, their complete dissolution. He regales Marco with stories of Redoran swordmasters and millennia old Telvanni magisters, of the enterprising Dres and devout and chivalric Indoril.
"There is another house..." Daynas begins carefully "One that was never truly removed even if it was reviled by the people."
"Oh?" Marco questions, his curiosity piqued.
"Indeed" The old Mer nods "The sixth house, also known as the tribe unmourned, the house of Dagoth."
There is an almost tangible weight in the old Mer's tone, yet in a futile attempt to lighten the situation Marco smirks and says "You almost sound afraid to name them."
There is no amusement in the scholar's tone as he answers "As I should be, the sixth house was said to have betrayed Saint Nerevar at the battle of the first council, their leader Dagoth Voryn siding with the Dwemer."
"I cannot help but note the 'it is said' part of your tale" Marco says after a moment.
"Indeed" the elder nods "For that same Voryn had been reborn with the same power that the False Tribunal stole and proclaimed their lies for all to hear, telling all those willing to hear how it was the false Tribunal that had slain our Hortator" he lets out a derisive chuckle "If the mad devil, who proclaimed himself Dagoth Ur, didn't release a massive plague upon Vvardenfell and brainwash honest Mer into believing he was the true god instead of the Good Daedra many would have likely supported him in overthrowing Vivec, Sotha Sil and Almalexia once the truth was out."
"Yet many would have no doubt died in the war that followed" Marco concludes somberly.
Daynas sighs "Conflict is inevitable whenever there is change. The majority of the Dunmer would have probably remained with the false Tribunal even if tangible proof was to be provided of their deception and betrayal, millennia of indoctrination by their priesthood ensured that."
Marco nods "It took true cruelty and divine intervention to kickstart the Nede rebellion against the Ayleids, I can see how the Dunmer would be reluctant to stand against their erstwhile protectors." Marco scratches his chin "Speaking of divine intervention, how does worship of the 'Good Daedra' work? My own teacher tells me Dunmer are connected to some unique aspects of the three yet I cannot for the life of me wrap my head around it."
"They are not gods to us in the same sense as the Aedra are to you" The scholar responds after some thought "Think of them as paragons and teachers, the Good Daedra showed us the path toward the Psijik endeavor, granting us purpose after the creation of Mundus and directing us away from the destructive path the Altmer of Summerset were taking."
"Which destructive path?" Marco asks.
Daynas raises a hand "I will get to that" he grumbles something about impatient youths and goes on before Marco can respond "To put it in simple terms the three good Daedra taught us things that made us who we became as the Chimer, Azura taught us dignity, Boethiah taught us strength and Mephala taught us cunning. We do not worship them due to some wish for their protection, we worship them because they are why we are who we are."
Marco blinks "That is an... unique way of looking at the divine... I guess." he says lamely.
"Indeed" The old Mer agrees, completely ignoring Marco's unimpressed tone "It can be especially hard to accept such views when the Aedra are quite literally our ancestors, but my own predecessors saw the truth in Saint Veloth's words and followed his path to enlightenment."
"Can you tell me of the Altmer's destructive path now?" Marco asks with genuine curiosity, it did concern his own people after all.
Daynas sighs "The Summerset Altmer still yearn for the immortality our ancestors had while Mundus was still just an idea in Lorkhan's mind, they would destroy the very world in a misguided attempt to 'free themselves' of the binds of mortality, foolishly forgetting that mortality is merely the first step to true eternity."
"Poetic" Marco cannot hold back a quip "I am guessing that is the reason for the Thalmor's recent warmongering and conquest?" The scholar seems uncomfortable with the question and Marco nods before he can give an excuse "I understand if the information is dangerous and you do not wish to share" He says soothingly "Still I am very grateful for the wisdom you did share."
The old Mer smiles "It is always good to have an attentive student, even if it is for but a day" He contemplates for a moment before continuing "I am certain your own teacher knows what I was about to talk about, if you still wish to learn of such things do ask him, at worst he will direct you to Winterhold's library that no doubt holds the secret."
They spend the rest of the morning either napping or swapping tales, Marco happily describing his exploits in recent months, enrapturing the old scholar with his storytelling prowess.
By midday, the three were rested and prepared, and as soon as Daynas gave the go-ahead Minthara happily pushed the ancient metal door of the tomb apart, taking the first step into the lair of a cursed kinslayer.
Comments
Delltree100
Great chapter author sama.
Nazarickk
Thanks for the chapter
