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âAlways improvising,â Aryon said, shaking his head. âItâs what I do best,â Ku-vastei smiled. âAs did Nerevar,â said Vivec. Kassur noticed a far-away look in his crimson eyes, lost in some distant memory. Kassur knew about Nerevar, at least the old tribal myths and legends. Ku-vastei herself was supposedly Nerevar reborn, the Nerevarine. Kassur wasnât sure how he felt about the prophecies â he wasnât a shaman, so it was far above his head to think about it. But here stood an ancient living god, one who had known Nerevar in life â and supposedly had had something to do with his death. If Vivec did murder Nerevar, he seemed to be remorseful about it now, these thousands of years later. Ku-vastei nodded at Vivec but with a quizzical look in her eyes. âI see,â she said, seeming at a loss for words.
epilogue to madstone is up now on ao3!
keep an eye out for the sequel, folie Ă deux!
madstone, chapter 5
âI suppose that is my name,â the former god said with a tilt of his head. âI considered changing it, but the priests advised I didnât. Would confuse the people more than necessary, they said. I suppose theyâre right.â
He put a delicate hand on Kassurâs shoulder, who suddenly felt very small and embarrassed for his outburst. âYou say my name with a curious accent. Are you Velothi, by chance?â
Kassur nodded. He didnât think his accent was that strong. Maybe Vivec was just good at picking up on it.
Without removing his hand, Vivec looked up at Ku-vastei. âWhat brings you to my city, Hortator?â
âTrouble with the Ahemmusa,â Ku-vastei said. She raised and jingled the Madstone in the air. âWeâre helping this lad get it sorted.â
Vivec leaned his face in to examine the amulet. âInteresting design. Dwemeri, I take it.â
Ku-vastei took a closer look at the Madstone. âIs it?â
âMay I?â Vivec asked, hand outstretched. Ku-vastei tentatively handed the Madstone to him. âYes, but of very ancient make. Likely fashioned prior to a law that standardized their more utilitarian style. A law passed long before even our war with the Nords.â He smiles sadly, his eyes seeming to look beyond the amulet and into the distant past. âThis really brings me back.â
Kassur managed to catch a glimpse of the amulet in the godâs hand, his first real look at it since they retrieved it. It had a round blue stone engraved with a radiant eye, cradled in an inverted crimson crescent that looked like horns.Â
Vivec then casually flicked the Madstone with his finger; a loud, clear tone rang out from the stone. Kassur instinctively covered his ears, even though the sound wasnât necessarily painful.Â
âBefore they became atheists,â Vivec began when the sound diminished, âthe Dwemer feared the Daedra. They lacked their later, more complete understanding of metaphysical tonality, but still vaguely knew the importance of fundamental tones. They crafted devices such as this to âscare awayâ the influence of the Daedra.â
âSeems the Ahemmusa somehow obtained one and used it to keep Sheogorath away for generations,â Ku-vastei filled in.Â
âInteresting,â Vivec mumbled, scratching his chin. âI wonder how it came into their hands. No matter, I suppose.â He looked again at Kassur. âI suspect whatever issue your tribe faces, this device is instrumental to its salvation.â
âWe think so, Lord Vivec,â offered Aryon when Kassur didnât reply.Â
âOh, please,â said Vivec with a dainty wave of his golden hand. âIâm barely a âLordâ anymore. Call me a saint still, if you want. But Iâm more part of the common rabble these days.â
Kassur somehow doubted this. How could a god become a mortal so easily? This was, of course, assuming he was ever truly a god in the first place, something Kassurâs people readily questioned. Regardless, there seemed something insincere, or at least unbefitting, in his stated humility.Â
Moving right along, Vivec said, âWell, I suppose Iâll be coming with you.â
Ku-vastei barely suppressed a hiss. âThat wonât be necessary, Vivec.â
âOh, please,â Vivec said again, clasping his hands and stretching his arms in front of him. âIâm bored out of my mind here. Endless bureaucracy. And thereâs only so many ways you can say, âGet rid of that rock in the sky.ââÂ
He cast a glance upwards at Baar Dau, which Kassur only just now noticed. It was indeed a giant rock in the sky, crawling with miners like kwama, bits of excavated stone falling into the water by the Temple canton.Â
âWonât leaving the city put its stasis in jeopardy?â Ku-vastei asked.Â
âNo, I can handle it from afar well enough, especially seeing as itâs quite a bit lighter these days.â
Ku-vastei swished her tail and scratched her chin. Finally, she acquiesced. âFine. You can come. But not like that.â She made a gesture with her metal hand, dividing her face into two halves.
âOf course,â Vivec replied. âI can be discrete.â In an instant the gold faded from his right side, leaving him fully grey, like any other Dunmer. âCompletely inconspicuous.â
âFine,â Ku-vastei grunted. âJust donât make any kind of scene. This doesnât have to be a big ordeal.â
âAs you wish, Hortator,â Vivec answered. Kassur was amazed by how easily Ku-vastei commanded the (former) god, and how readily he submitted to her whims.
âLetâs be on our way then, shall we?â asked Aryon. âWeâve got the better part of the island to cross.â
Ku-vastei shrugged. âWeâll just teleport to Sadrith Mora, take the boat to Vos, then walk the rest of the way to Ald Daedroth. Not too complicated.â
- - -
And it wasnât too complicated. The teleport to Sadrith Mora (which Kassur handled even better than the last three, getting quite used to it), the walk across town, and boat ride to Vos, were mostly uneventful. But it was far from boring, as you might imagine, being a trip with a powerful wizard, the leader of a nation, and a god. To Kassur it went by in a blur; either Aryon and Vivec were in heated debate about the Dwarves, which Ku-vastei moderated, or the three discussed political matters so far over Kassurâs head in their import that he simply tuned it out and focused on not getting seasick. Gals Arethi kept a baleful eye on Kassur, but apparently the esteemed company Kassur traveled with kept him safe from the shipmasterâs wrath.
When they arrived, Sedyni the Vos shipmaster was not there. The four travelers stepped off the boat and glanced around. The nearby tradehouse seemed unusually quiet. Gals shrugged and sailed off back to Sadrith Mora.
âWhere is everyone?â Kassur asked. At this time of early evening, the village was usually buzzing with activity.
Vivec closed his eyes. âThe chapel is empty.â
âHow could you possibly know that?â asked Ku-vastei, planting a metal hand on her hip. Kassur wondered about that brass gauntlet she wore â it was incredibly ornate, and had an air of being impossibly ancient and powerful. But he had no idea how to ask politely.
âI can still feel it,â Vivec said, opening his eyes again. âMost people still revere me as a god, especially this far removed from the official temple in my city. So the Tribunal holy places are still attuned to me.â Kassur had no idea what he was talking about.
Aryon was oddly quiet. In the short time Kassur had known him, heâd never acted like this; he was the type of consequential mer to always have something to contribute to a conversation. It was barely perceptible, but Kassur could swear he saw a slight tremor in Aryonâs hands. But Kassur couldnât tell if it was fearâŠor rage.
âAryon?â asked Ku-vastei. âAre you alright?â She seemed to notice the same thing Kassur had.
âCheck on the village,â Aryon said, his voice dry. âI go to the tower.â And so he did, flying off fast through the air, much faster than they had in Vivec. As Kassur watched him disappear into the sky, he saw a dark cloud in front of the setting sun. OrâŠwas it a pillar of smoke?
âThis bodes ill,â Vivec said, frowning. âKassur, stay close. Itâs quiet, but I suspect danger.â
Kassur felt a sudden pang of guilt. He realized he was more like a liability to these powerful beings, someone they had to keep close and protected because he was so weak and helpless. He could barely conjure a flame, and didnât know how to use a weapon. In a fight, he was worthless. He began to wonder why theyâd brought him along at all. A sneaking suspicion told him they thought he would be useful only as a bargaining chip, of sorts. A sort of intermediary to help them accomplishâŠwhatever grim task they meant to do.
The thought escaped his lips just as he thought it. âDonât kill them,â he blurted. âIf it is the Ahemmusa. Please.â
âKassurâŠâ Ku-vastei began, turning to face him. âThat might not be ââ
âYou have our word,â Vivec interrupted, placing a delicate hand on Kassurâs shoulder. âNo excessive harm shall come to your people.â
Ku-vastei scoffed, snapping her head towards Vivec to glare at him, but after a moment sighed and shrugged. Kassur wasn't sure if he could trust the word of the false god â or if the Nerevarine had any interest in going along with him.Â
They proceeded towards the town walls, which were actually the backs of the tightly-crowded huts of the village, no space left between their rounded stucco corners. There were no guards posted at the gate, the townâs single entrance, and beyond them was still silent. Down the single street they could see that many of the doors were half-to-wide open, but there were no obvious signs of a struggle.
âVivec,â said Ku-vastei, âtake Kassur to check the chapel. Iâll check on the houses.â Vivec nodded and gently directed Kassur towards the chapel as Ku-vastei began picking her way from hut to hut.
Vivec and Kassur passed under the chapel gate into the meager courtyard. The small alchemical garden the two priests maintained there was not overgrown or choked with weeds. âThey havenât been gone long,â Kassur observed out loud.Â
Vivec noticed Kassur examining the garden and nodded. âGood,â he said, smiling at Kassur. âLetâs check inside.â
The door was closed, and unlocked. But the chapel never locked its doors, not even when the priests were both asleep. Vivec cautiously pushed through the threshold, Kassur following close behind. âHello?â called out Vivec. âItâs alright. Weâre here to help.âÂ
There was no answer. The chamber within was nearly pitch-dark, only faint light coming through the stained glass domed ceiling. Vivec cast a Light spell for them to see by as they entered.
It was a mess. The Tribunal tapestries on the walls were torn to shreds, and the murals defaced with what Kassur hoped was paint; candles and torches were snuffed out; the prayer-stools were upturned and thrown about; loose ripped-out pages of books were fluttering in the breeze visiting from outside; ash and bones from the circular Waiting Door on the floor were spread across the room haphazardly. Kassur held no great faith in these things, but it still pained him to see such desecration of a holy place.Â
âBe on your guard,â said Vivec stiffly. âIn this state I fear I could not trust my divinity to tell if weâre alone. There is little holiness left here.â
Kassurâs muscles tightened. He still didnât understand how Vivec could know such things. But if he truly was anything close to what he claimed â an ancient mortal-made-god, a living deity â then it was difficult to doubt him.
They slowly circled the Waiting Door, more carefully inspecting the scene, but there was no more evidence of exactly what had happened. At least thereâs no blood, Kassur thought. He remembered his teacher, Yakin Bael, and said, âThereâs a bedroom downstairs. We should probably check there, too.â
Vivec nodded in agreement, and led the way down the steps, his orb of magical light guiding the way. The priestsâ bedroom was not saved from the sacking: pots and urns of various alchemical and cooking ingredients were overturned and cracked open; broken glass from shattered bottles littered the rug underfoot (Kassur was for once glad for his shoes, and Vivec hovered an inch above the ground); the desk had its drawers yanked out, scattering torn papers and writing implements, and its stool and tall candlestick were toppled; the privacy screen was ripped open; and the beds were torn apart, sheets and blankets strewn and split.
Vivec stopped to inspect some of the loose pages of sermons and notes on the floor. Kassur went up the short ramp to the beds to look more closely. He knew the bed on the left was Yakinâs â they had a few lessons down here, when the upstairs chapel was too busy and loud. He picked up a pillow from the floor, gashed open and spitting up dried wickwheat stuffing, and gently laid it back on the head of the bed. He knelt down, and quickly realized that under the pillow was Yakinâs spectacles, broken and bent at the nose and lenses shattered. He gently took them in his hands, careful of the jagged edges of glass, and stared at them.
Just as he was getting used to his new life in Vos, now it seemed to be ripped from him again. Even the only real friend he had among the housemer, his teacher Yakin Bael, seemed to be in some unknown peril. And, useless as always, Kassur could do nothing but follow along with the real heroes, who actually had power to do anything about it.
âHere,â said Vivec, startling Kassur from his misery. A second orb of light appeared, floating near Kassur by the beds.Â
âThanks,â said Kassur. Vivec smiled and kept reading a document in his hand.
Kassur looked back down, and something immediately caught his eye. Just under the edge of the bed was a bright gleam, reflecting the magical light above. Kassur slowly reached for the shining object and pulled it out.Â
It was a short sword, still in its sheath; its metallic hilt had been catching the light. He removed the sheath noiselessly and beheld the glistening steel blade, sharp as the day it was forged. âVivec,â he called, âhe had a sword. Yakin, that is. And he didnât use it.â
Vivec dropped what he was reading and floated up the ramp to Kassur, looking down at him and the sword. âHm,â he pondered, tucking his legs up under him as he floated and placing his hands on his crossed knees. âDoesnât mean there wasnât a struggle. Those spectacles are broken. No blood?â
Kassur looked around again. On a whim he grabbed the pillow he had adjusted earlier and turned it over; sure enough, a small bloodstain seeped through the cloth case.
âPunched in the face,â Kassur suggested. âNose bled, maybe broken. No other signs of a struggle, that I can tell.â
âFair analysis,â Vivec said. âI donât think thereâs any other clues here. Letâs go meet up with Ku-vastei.â
Ku-vastei had just come back from the end of the street to the chapel by the time Kassur and Vivec came out. She was alone.
âI see you didnât find any survivors,â Vivec said, frowning. âAny dead?â
âNo,â Ku-vastei said. âNo sign of any struggle. Everyone is just gone. What of the chapel?â
âWe found no one, but the chapel was desecrated. The homes were untouched?â
âThat I could tell, yes. Some doors were left open, and the breeze disturbed some belongings, but that was it.â
âHm,â Vivec said, stroking his solid grey chin. âPerhaps theyâre sheltering at the tower?â
All three turned west towards Tel Vos. The pillar of smoke was rising higher, and blacker. Without a word they began at a quick pace towards it.
- - -
Aryon had put out most of the flames by the time they arrived, but the damage had been done. There was nothing left of the Telvanni fungal roots of the tower but ash, even Aryonâs personal pod at its peak. The tendrils which had so integrated themselves into the stonework of the Imperial fort no longer held it up, causing several portions to collapse into charred bricks.
Ku-vastei and Vivec readied their spears (Kassur hadnât noticed the god had been carrying one until now) while Kassur cowered behind the two. But it made him feel like a coward, so he tried his best to straighten his back, puff out his chest bravely, and at least put his hand on the sheathed sword of Yakin Bael, even if he didn't have the nerve to actually draw it.
Aryon knelt in front of a smoldering pile of bodies. It was hard for Kassur to make out in the carnage, but it seemed like a mix of guards, tower servants, and Ahemmusa raiders. He might have recognized some of the latter, if they werenât all so horrifically burned.
âMaster Aryon?â asked Vivec. âAre you harmed?â
Aryon turned his head slowly. There was no evidence of weeping on his face, but he looked like a man completely exhausted. Kassur understood the feeling immediately. âNo,â Aryon said. âThey likely went north before I arrived.â He stood and wiped his hands on his robes. âTo the old camp. What of Vos?â
Heâs held together by a thread right now, thought Kassur. There was a haunted look in his eyes. Heâd just lost everything. Kassur could relate â although heâd ran from his old life, instead of having it torn from him.
âThere was no one there,â Ku-vastei said. âNo sign of a struggle, except that the chapel was ransacked.â She took a cautious step forward towards Aryon. âAre you sure youâre ââ
The wind changed suddenly, and Kassur caught a big whiff of the corpse-smoke. He gagged loudly, covered his mouth with the collar of his robes, and fled towards a nearby wall. He planted his free hand against the stone as he tried to calm his retching before it grew into something worse. He could feel three pairs of eyes on his back, and he resented it. He let go of the wall and looked at his hand; it was completely covered in soot. The wall now had a relatively clean handprint on it where heâd stolen the blackness. âIâm fine,â he shouted, although the act nearly made him gag again. âIâm ââ
There was a loud crack somewhere above him. He only had time to look up at the top half of a tower rushing towards him, but not enough to move out of the way. He closed his eyes.
Something hit him hard, but not at the angle he was expecting. The collapse was deafening, its roar of crumbling stone erasing all other sounds. When the sound had settled, Kassur opened his eyes. Ku-vastei had him in her arms; he could feel the cold metal of her right hand pressing into his spine through his robes.Â
Vivec and Aryon appeared in the air above them, their feet glowing with pink light. âAre you two alright?â Aryon asked.
Kassur felt a soothing energy enter his body from the gauntlet, and he felt less sore from the tackle. âYes,â Ku-vastei said as she stood up, lifting Kassur with her. âIâm fine, and he will be.â
Kassur caught a glimpse of Aryonâs face, wrinkled with worry, before it relaxed into relief. Then he put on a new mask, a mask of cold wrath. A cascade of facades to make Mephala proud.
âGood,â Aryon asked. âWe need to go to the old camp and see if theyâve taken the citizens there.â
Aryon turned, and with a mystical wave of his hand, buoyed up the rubble in mauve smoke and flung it aside. âCome,â he said once the crashing din faded. âWe have work to do.â
Suddenly, Kassur was terrified of Aryon â and for the safety of his own people.
madstone: chapter 4
-previous part-
The Archmagister looked up through the parted fingers of the brass gauntlet clutching her head. When she saw who it was she removed the gauntlet from her face. âAryon. What are you doing here?â She glanced over at Kassur, who suddenly felt very small. âOh. Right. Forgot about him.â
âYou seem to have a lot going on,â Aryon said, observing the scorch marks all around the small office.Â
âJust leftover business from dealing with Galmis.â She stopped to gaze at the scorch marks herself. âHeâs not going to be a problem anymore.â
âI suppose thatâs a good thing,â Aryon said. Kassur was confused but couldnât tear his attention from the Archmagister.
The Archmagister stretched her digitigrade Argonian legs and then stood. She approached Kassur and held out her brass hand.Â
Kassur slowly took it, his small hand engulfed in the massive ornate gauntlet. She gave his hand a tight squeeze that hurt for a second before relaxing her grip. âWhat was your name, again?â
âKassur, Archmagister. Uh. Nerevarine. UhâŠâ
She laughed, a deep, throaty laugh. âCall me Ku-vastei.â
âOkay,â Kassur said. He didnât know what kind of name that was, but it didnât sound like Velothi to him. Of course it didnât, she was an Argonian. For some reason he expected the Nerevarine to have at least a Dunmeri name.
âWhat was your complaint?â Ku-vastei asked. âSomething about your tribe? Erabenimsun? Your scouts didnât report anything the other day.â
âNo,â Kassur said, shaking his head. âAhemmusa.â
âDid someone take Ald Daedroth again?â
Something about the question irked Kassur, but he couldnât place a finger on why. Besides, he was too wrapped in awe to display any displeasure. âNo, Ku-vastei,â he said. âTheyâve gone mad. Theyâre holed up in Ald Daedroth.â
âAnd they might be building an army,â Aryon interjected politely after Kassur paused to look for words.
âAn army. The Ahemmusa? Are you sure?â
Aryon smiled. âThatâs why I said might, Ku-vastei. Kassur left months ago, but indications seem to suggest they could be. Which would put Vos and Tel Vos at risk, potentially even the rest of the eastern coast.â
Ku-vastei glanced at Kassur. âIs that so?â Kassur nodded solemnly. âExplain what you mean by âgone mad,â Kassur. Do you think this is the doing of Sheogorath, perhaps?â
Kassur nodded again. âYes, Ku-vastei. He has long antagonized our people. His presence is strongest in Ald Daedroth. And without the MadstoneâŠâ Kassur again struggled to find words.
âThe Madstone?â Ku-vastei asked, tilting her head. âThe trinket the Wise Woman gave me when she declared me Nerevarine?â
âNo mere trinket, it seems,â said Aryon. âIt appears to hold back Sheogorathâs influence.â
âWe need it back,â said Kassur.
âHm,â said Ku-vastei, rubbing her chin in thought.
âPlease,â Kassur said, not well hiding the desperation in his voice.
âOh, no,â Ku-vastei said, waving her hand dismissively. âIâll give it back. Iâm trying to remember where I left it.â
Aryon groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. âIn a Mageâs Guild Hall, perhaps?â
âYessssss,â hissed Ku-vastei. âBalmora, I think. Letâs go.â She briskly set off past Aryon and Kassur, and the Ordinator at the door.
âBye, then,â said Llethym, who had seemed to meld into the shadows as the others conversed. The sudden reminder of his presence made Kassur jump. Aryon pulled on Kassurâs hand as he followed swiftly behind Ku-vastei. Kassur found it nearly impossible to keep up without almost running.
- - - - -
Ku-vastei was fast. She pushed her way through the crowd in the Hlaalu plaza like she owned the place, and nobody seemed to mind. Once they slipped through the open plaza doors, they squinted in the morning light as they identified their destination canton. Again they skywalked across the air to the Foreign Quarter, Kassur a little more confident this time, but still holding Aryonâs hand. Inside the Foreign Quarter plaza Ku-vastei was just as to-the-point and forceful, like a hammer on the anvil that is her destination: the Mageâs Guild.
They descended into the structure until they returned to the Guild Guide. âFlacassia,â Ku-vastei said abruptly as she nearly bumped into her. âTake us to Balmora, please.â
âWhere is Balmora?â Kassur asked Aryon as they stepped onto the platform.
âNorthwest of here, southwest corner of the island,â Aryon said. âBig Hlaalu town. Iâm not looking forward to this.â
Before Kassur could interrogate Aryon further, Flacassiaâs casting completed, sending them through Oblivion to the Balmora Mageâs Guild.
This time the sudden jolt nearly took Kassur down, but Ku-vastei caught him in her surprisingly strong arms, hidden under the folds of her robes. âAlright?â she asked him as she set him on his feet.
âA-alright,â Kassur mumbled, blushing again.
âMhm,â Ku-vastei muttered before letting go. âAjira,â she said with a quick wave, and a Khajiit - or so Kassur has heard the cat-men are called - in the corner waved back with what Kassur guessed was a smile.Â
âHave you had a chance to search for the ring this one mentioned to you, Archmagister?â the Khajiit - apparently Ajira - asked.
âNo,â Ku-vastei said. âIâve been busy.â
âAh,â Ajira replied. âNo rush. Artifacts donât tend to wander too much.â
Ku-vastei nodded and swiftly went into the next room. In the far corner by the opposite corridor was a small screened-off section. When Kassur approached he saw benches laden with hundreds of glowing, shining objects - rings, amulets, weapons, pieces of armor, rare books, and more.Â
Ku-vastei perused the items on display, searching bench by bench from one end to the other. Then she started over from the beginning and searched again. Then another time. Finally she gave up and stuck her head out of the enclosed space. âSharn?â
âYes?â A robed figure in the far corner opposite the corridor turned around, revealing a rough green face, sprouting two white tusks from the corners of its mouth. âAh, Archmagister, hello.â Her voice was as aggressive as her visage.
âSharn, where are my artifacts?â Ku-vastei asked calmly. But Kassur noticed a twitch in her tail, and some instinct told him this was not a good sign.
âTheyâre all right there, arenât they?â Sharn asked, clutching a book to her chest tightly.
âNo,â Ku-vastei insisted, her voice raised slightly. âIâm missing an important amulet, and several other things besides. What happened to them?â
Sharn seemed to look around nervously before settling her gaze on the Archmageâs bare reptilian feet. âIâŠlet Galbedir borrow them. For experiments.â
Ku-vastei ran a hand down the side of her face in ill-hidden exasperation. She spoke again, her composure barely maintained, and patience fading, as indicated by the erratic movements of her tail: âWhy, exactly?â
âWell, you seeâŠâ Sharn began to explain, âShe kind of just came up, took them, saw that I saw her taking them, and told me they were for experiments. And not to tell you.â
âYouâve done well to tell me anyway,â Ku-vastei said, âalbeit a bit late.â She glanced around the room. âWhere is Galbedir?â
âShe took them to some ruins nearby, I think. Dwemer if I recall. ArkâŠArkungâŠâ
âArkngthand?â Ku-vastei groaned.
âYes!â Sharn said, excited. âPrecisely the place.â
âWell,â Ku-vastei said, turning to Aryon. âI suppose we have another detour to make.â She turned back again towards the adjacent corridor, but stopped for a moment. She looked around the room again before spotting someone, a Dunmer in an opposite alcove. She swiftly approached him, nearly startling a book out of his hands. âMarayn?â she inquired forcefully.
After regaining his composure, Marayn answered, âYes, Archmage?â
âYouâre a Dren, arenât you?â
âYes,â said Marayn, offering a shy smile. âMarayn Dren, at your service.â
âDo you know of a Galmis Dren? Distant relative, perhaps?â
âNot so distant,â Marayn said. âHeâs my older brother.â
âWere you aware your older brother was a slave smuggler?â
Kassur felt a bit left out of the loop, here. This conversation wasnât for him to observe, it seemed. He glanced at Aryon, who smiled and shook his head pointedly. Let it happen, that gesture seemed to suggest.
âWell,â Marayn said, looking away. âIf you know who our father was, then it shouldnât come as a surprise.â
âI hope you wonât give me any problems, either, Marayn,â Ku-vastei said, the young Dunmerâs name passing almost like a curse from her lips.
âI wasâŠdisowned long ago, you could say,â Marayn replied. âItâs wonât be an issue, Archmage.â He looked back up at her. âBut what of Galmis?â
âHeâs dead,â Ku-vastei answered. âExecuted for the crime of slave trafficking in Telvanni territory. And for trying to assassinate me and the Grandmaster of House Hlaalu.â
âO-oh.â Marayn seemed to look through Ku-vastei for a moment. Finally his eyes snapped back to reality. âI suppose itâs for the best.â
âQuite,â Ku-vastei said. âGood day.â She turned to leave, and Aryon and Kassur followed her out of the Mageâs Guild.Â
Just as they had descended into the Mageâs Guild in Vivec, they ascended out of Balmoraâs. Kassur expected them to arrive at the top of a towering canton again. But when they emerged from its front door they were at street level, under a stone awning lit by a blue lantern.Â
Balmora seemed to be a city of smooth rectangular mudbrick structures, an architectural style wholly unfamiliar to Kassur. His people used simple yurts made from wood, corkbulb, and guarhides; the Telvanni used fungal pods and towers, and at Tel Vos adopted the stone-wrought architecture of the Imperials. He supposed these buildings were most similar to the smaller houses of Vos proper, although the corners of these were notably curved so as to avoid true angles. These Hlaalu must be a superstitious lot, fearful of their Four Corners. Many of these buildings rose into the air two or three stories, and if the rest were anything like the Mageâs Guild, they likely descended into the earth a few levels, as well.
Before he could investigate the city any more, Kassur was swept swiftly along by Ku-vastei and Aryon down a main street to the cityâs gates. Outside he was faced with a high-cliffed canyon with a mighty river flowing through it, which the city seemed to straddle as it flowed out to the coast to the south. This land was similar to the land heâd glimpsed from afar from the dizzying heights of Vivecâs Foreign Quarter, green and dotted with trees and Emperor Parasols, littered with corkbulb shrubs and flowering bushes of golds and purples and blues. It felt so different from the Grazelands of his home somehow, although that place had almost all the same things. The colors were all darker, more vibrant here; the sky felt bluer and the grass greener. It almost felt like too much for his unadjusted eyes, so he narrowed them to limit his sensory intake.
They crossed the river via two bridges meeting on a small island in the middle, and then they carried on into a darker place. The foliage seemed scarcer and scarcer as they delved into the mountains, and the color faded into a myriad of grays and blacks. In the distance Kassur could see what looked like the Imperial part of Tel Vos, a gray-stone fortress wreathed with red banners. But before they arrived, they took a left, and the dismal environment swallowed them up.
âWhat is this place?â Kassur asked.
âFoyada,â Ku-vastei said before Aryon could answer. âMamaea, to be precise. Old lava flow from Red Mountain. Youâve never seen one?â
âThis is the first time Iâve come this far from the Grazelands,â Kassur admitted shyly.Â
âHm,â Ku-vastei said, never once stopping her advance.Â
They climbed a steep hill until they reached the top, where an ancient-seeming bridge of stone and brass railings crossed a terrifying gap. On the far side emerged from the earth a series of spires of the same brass, which had been obfuscated by cloud cover along the way. Now that they had risen above the cloudline, they could see it in all its abandoned glory: Arkngthand.
The main structure didnât seem to have a door; there was just a brass sphere jutting out from where the door might have been. Nearby was a brass post rising from the ground. There was a strangle semi-circular handle of some sort hanging from it.Â
âKassur,â Aryon said, âif you would be so kind as to turn the crank for us.â
Kassur obliged, approaching the strange post. He tentatively reached for the horizontal protruding rod of the crank, and looked to Aryon for affirmation. Aryon simply nodded, and gestured vaguely to continue. Kassur expected the crank to turn slowly, based on its apparent age, but its movement was smooth, as if well-oiled. As the crank turned, the sphere on the wall opened up from a vertical seam in its center, revealing a pair of matching doors within its recesses.Â
âVery good,â said Aryon. âLetâs go.â
Kassur let go of the crank, which earned him a scathing glance from Ku-vastei as the sphere began to close again. âNo,â she said. âYou canât come.â
âThe Dwemer had door-guards, you see,â Aryon explained, âwhose job was to open the doors to strongholds when people needed to enter or exit. Youâre going to be our door-guard.â
âPlus,â Ku-vastei added, âitâs for your safety. We donât know whatâs in there.â
Sighing, Kassur grabbed the crank again and turned it back to its fully open position.Â
âWeâll be back with the Madstone shortly,â Aryon said. Then he and Ku-vastei disappeared into the tower, the stone doors closing behind them with a loud thud.Â
Thankfully the crank wasnât difficult to hold open, but Kassur couldnât sit down while keeping it turned. Even if he could, he didnât want to get the pretty robes Aryon had given him dirty on the ashy stone ground. So he stood there, awkwardly, bored, for several minutes.Â
Then he heard a sound. It was a low, rumbling sound, very distant. But it began to grow louder. And louder. Until it was almost deafening - and that was when he felt the wind pick up. And with the wind came ash, brushing against his skin roughly, like a thousand tiny pumices. Visibility began to diminish until he could barely see the open sphere in front of him.
Thatâs when he abandoned the crank and ran for the doors.Â
He barely made it inside before the sphere closed shut behind him. There was barely enough space in the sphere for two people to be squeezed up against the stone doors. He pushed one open and slid inside, glad to be free of the ashstorm.Â
Inside was dimly lit by giant but guttering Dwemeri torches ensconced on the walls; Kassurâs eyes had to strain to see. He was on a brass platform that seemed to end not far from the doors, but as he approached he noticed a crumbling stone ramp that led down into the depths of this massive chamber. He stumbled through the shadows at the edges of the pathway, taking each tentative step down until he trusted the walkway would be stable enough.
About halfway down he found a small outcropping which opened up onto the scene below. On the left were two more brass platforms stacked on top of the other, the upper story accessible only by another stone ramp. At this top platform was a short woman, some foreign kind of mer, standing in front of a table laden with arcane implements Kassur didnât recognize at all. She was surrounded by men of various races, all heavily armored and armed to the teeth. She shouted across the way at Ku-vastei and Aryon, who stood at the base of the semi-circular stone ramp Kassur found himself on.
âYou always favored that nasty cat, Ajira,â the short woman yelled. âHelped her to advance, even though I was more qualified! Nepotism, pure nepotism.â
âIrrelevant, Galbedirâ Ku-vastei called back. âGive me back my artifacts and I wonât kill you.â
âNo!â screamed the woman, evidently Galbedir. âThis is how Iâll make my mark on the Guild, earn my rank as Wizard! Youâll all see how powerful I truly am!â She raised a wicked curved dagger into the air - Kassur faintly recognized it as one of the feared Daedric weapons.
âYouâre a fool of an enchanter,â Ku-vastei said. âYou donât know what youâre doing.â
Galbedir whispered something to the nearest guard, who nodded, shouting something to the others which prompted them all to advance on Ku-vastei and Aryon. Ku-vastei readied her spear and snarled.
âThis is a mistake, Galbedir,â said Aryon, raising his own hands, preparing to cast. âYou can still get out of this clean. We can help you work on your advancement another way.â
âOh, and now Iâm supposed to take the advice of some Telvanni?â Galbedir scoffed, before screaming, âI need more time! Kill them!â
The guards charged at her command; Kassur guessed there were six of them. There was no way his companions could -
It all happened in a blur, before Kassur could even finish the thought. Aryon lobbed a fireball, taking out two of the guards instantly. Ku-vastei lunged forward with a yell, skewering straight through the heavy armor of another. Lightning burst forth from Aryonâs fingertips, chaining between the remaining three; two of them fell, but the last persisted. Ku-vastei slashed from a distance, extending her spear as far as it would go, slicing the final manâs throat. He fell to the ground, clutching his neck and spasming.
Just then, a gray hand covered Kassurâs mouth, smelling of ashyams. A gruff voice whispered into his ear, âScream and Iâll cut your throat.â
Kassur felt the sound rising, but he killed it in his throat before it cost him his life.
Something sharp at his back prodded Kassur forward, down the shadows of the stone ramp and behind Ku-vastei and Aryon, who were still negotiating with Galbedir. Kassur stumbled a few times, both on juts of rock and with his captorâs feet kicking into his heels from behind, but they still didnât seem to make a sound.
Galbedir saw all this and smiled. After coaxing Ku-vastei and Aryon closer to her with her words, she inquired, âAnd is this a pet of yours? Perhaps a slave?â
The two turned around to see Kassur emerge from the shadows, the dagger now at his neck.Â
âNâchow,â swore Ku-vastei. âWe told you -â
âA slave then,â said Galbedir, laughing. âThose hardliners were right, werenât they? All this âabolitionâ business was just so you could turn the tables on the Dunmer.â
Ku-vastei turned her head to glare at Galbedir, but quickly returned her gaze to captured Kassur. She took a step forward, but the Dunmer holding the dagger wagged a finger and dug the blade closer to Kassurâs skin, almost drawing blood.
But Aryon reached out his glowing gloved left hand to stop her, twitching his fingers in a strange way. âYouâll let him go now, wonât you?â
Something changed in the captorâs stance, and his eyes seemed to flicker yellow. His head twitched slightly, and then he let go of Kassur. Kassur ran towards Aryon and nearly fell down at his feet.
âVery good,â said Aryon, grabbing Kassur by the shoulders. âNow, cut your own throat.â
The captorâs dagger-hand shakily rose to his neck, and in one swift motion, he sliced open his neck, sputtering blood everywhere. He fell to his knees, then all the way to the floor, motionless.
Ku-vastei looked impressed. âI thought you couldnât Command someone to hurt themselves.â
Aryon smiled as he inspected Kassurâs neck for wounds. âI went above and beyond with my Dominator, all those years ago.â
Galbedir screamed incoherently from behind them. âNo, no, no! It will not end this way!â
The three turned to face her, just as she stabbed her Daedric dagger into her own hand. Daedric runes formed out of the blood, floating in the air, and an ominous shrieking filled the chamber. Her body began to stretch and mutate, her arms becoming wings, her feet becoming talons, and her form becoming massive. Kassur knew this monster could be only one thing: some sort of gigantic Winged Twilight.
What was once Galbedir screeched, splitting Kassurâs ears. It lunged forwards, clawing with one its wings, straight for Kassur -
When he looked up from bracing for impact, he found he was safe and sound. Her claws had collided with some purple barrier that Ku-vastei put up, protecting him from harm.Â
Then Aryon raised his gloved right hand, which glowed brilliantly gold. A cloud of smoke appeared between the Twilight and the three, and from the mist appeared three figures: a Flame Atronach, feminine form burning bright; a Frost Atronach, an ice-spiked soldier; and a Storm Atronach, bundle of rocks held together by lightning. At once they assaulted Galbedir, their elements colliding and fusing into pure magic, a concentrated attack of unrelenting power.Â
She shrieked from the burns, the freezes, and the shocks, and her Daedric form was ripped apart until nothing remained but ash.
Ku-vastei slapped Aryon on the back. âVery well done, Master Aryon. Those gloves sure do come in handy.â She began to climb the stone ramp to where Galbedir had stood to collect her artifacts.
âQuite,â Aryon said, before turning back to a stunned Kassur. âNow, why exactly did you abandon your post outside?â
âAshstorm,â Kassur said, forgetting to speak Dunmeris for a moment.
âAh,â replied Aryon, stroking his chin. âVery well, I suppose.â
âFound it!â Ku-vastei shouted from above, raising an amulet over her head in triumph.
âThe Madstone?â Kassur asked.
âYes,â Ku-vastei answered after she returned to the two. âWeâll have to teleport out since weâve no one to open the door. Almsivi, Aryon?â
âSeems appropriate enough,â Aryon said.
âHere,â Ku-vastei said, offering Kassur one of her rescued artifacts, some kind of necklace. âEnchanted with Almsivi Intervention. Itâll take you where weâre going, too.â
âHow do I use it?â Kassur asked, accepting the amulet.
âRub the stone and think of a Tribunal Temple,â Ku-vastei said. âDoesnât have to be a specific one; itâll take us to the same place regardless. Works on proximity.â
âOkay,â Kassur said.Â
Ku-vastei popped out first with a spell, then Aryon. Kassur rubbed the amulet, closed his eyes, and thought as hard as he could of the chapel in Vos. Which reminded him: he still had his Dunmeris lessons to think about. But before he could think any more on that topic, he was whisked away through Oblivion.
- - - - -
Before he opened his eyes again, he was immediately hit by the smell of the sea. But it was different from that of the northern coast by his home. It was almost like -
âAryon,â Ku-vastei asked, âWhy are we in Vivec?â
Kassur opened his eyes, and sure enough, they were on one of the many floating cantons of the great city of Vivec.Â
Aryon looked around and scratched his head. âIâm not sure. We were closer to Balmoraâs temple. Maybe the ashstorm sent us off course?â
âCan they do that?â asked Ku-vastei.
âTheoretically,â Aryon said, âif the storm contains some residual Blight. The Blight is known to affect magic in strange ways.â
âIt is a byproduct of the Divine Disease, after all.â
Ku-vastei, Aryon, and Kassur turned to see who had spoken. Kassur had never met him before, but he knew from his skin that he was -
The name escaped his lips before he could control it.
âVivec.â

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madstone: prologue
authorâs note: the style here is a bit different from what i usually write. iâm experimenting! anyways, iâll give this a better title than âchapter 1âł once i think of one. i foresee expanding this into something bigger! let me know if you like this new character, kassur. i have.......vague plans for him. also i know this is short, but, anyways, here we go:
- - - - -
The scrib sauntered up to the bed, and its masterâs hanging hand. It opened its mouth wide, and - CHOMP.Â
Kassur woke, but he was paralyzed temporarily even by the playful bite. Once his muscles were his to command, he groaned and ripped his hand away before his pet could nibble again. He sat up and rubbed his eyes before fixing them on the scrib. The creature spun a slow circle and then clambered up the side of the bed, resting its chitinous head on Kassurâs lap.Â
Kassur smiled, scratched behind its horns, and said, âOne of these days, youâre going to be scrib jerky.â Heâd never named the critter, which heâd found wandering the Grazelands months ago and taken a liking to. Heâd wanted to wait until he learned enough Dunmeris to give it a meaningful name, but maybe heâd just name it âJerky.â
He raised his arms to stretch them and his back. He still wasnât used to how soft a real bed was - he was more accustomed to sleeping in a bedroll on the floor. He almost resented the scrib for waking him so early. But it was a good thing - he had lessons to attend.Â
Kassur shooed Jerky off the bed and stood. He lit the fire in the center of the yurt with a quick spell. It often wasnât until he did this that he remembered precisely where he was. Heâd stolen this yurt, disassembled, from the Ahemmusa camp before he left in the middle of the night, sneaking away right under the night sentinelsâ noses. It took several trips to carry everything, and he still had to find some of his own materials (mostly to patch up holes in the rarely-used guarskin canvas), but it was worth it to start out fresh with a sheltered place to sleep.Â
Kassurâs stomach rumbled. He reached into the sack of ashyams by the bed - no luck, all empty. Damn. Heâd taken that sack when it was taut full with them. He couldnât risk going back; even though theyâd abandoned the old camp north of Vos, theyâd no doubt have people coming by periodically to make sure the supplies they left behind were unmolested. Theyâd have his hands for sure if he was caught.Â
Kassur sighed and opened his basket of wickwheat flatbreads and threw one on the grill over the fire. He also dropped a trama nub into the pot of water heâd gathered last night and hung it over the flames.Â
Kassur sat on the floor of the yurt and soaked in the heat. He leaned his head back on the bed and started to dozeâŠ
He snatched his hand away before Jerky could bite it again. He quickly grabbed the hot flatbread from the grill before it burned, but the grill marks were very dark. He sighed and poured himself a cup of over-steeped trama tea as he took a bite of the bland bread. He took a sip and relished the warmth and lifting feeling of the drink, seeming to elevate his mind and wake him up.Â
Once he finished eating and drinking, he grabbed his shirt and pulled it on. It was a terribly itchy garment, of House mer make, and he hated wearing it. But he needed to make an effort to blend in, and what heâd rather wear would make him stand out more than he already does.Â
Kassur glanced at the shoes in the corner. He shook his head and walked out of the yurt without them. The soft Grazelands earth was soft beneath his bare feet.Â
Kassur had set up his yurt very close to Vos, just around a small hill. He could look northwest and see Tel Vos towering in the distance. He spat in its direction and made for Vos.
Vos was a tangle of squat adobe buildings and giant fungal roots. It reminded Kassur of a trama shrub deprived of its thorns.Â
The thorns are the people, Kassur thought cynically. But he cleared his mind of the idea as he stepped through the gate, a ring of fungal mass attached to the rest of the tendrils. There was a saccharine kind of pleasantness the House mer put on constantly, and he tried to emulate it. It seemed pointless to him, to wear a disguise like that. But he needed to get used to their ways. He was stuck with them, now.Â
He tried to cheer himself up by pretending he was Mephala wearing one of her many masks. That made sense to him; keep a hand behind your back when near your enemies. But these House mer didnât even worship Mephala, so he didnât understand where they got it from.Â
Kassur approached the Chapelâs doors and hesitated, as he always did. Was he really ready for such a leap? To abandon his ancestors and throw in his lot with the three impostors?
He shook his head pointedly, although no one saw him. He didnât have to make that decision yet; he was just learning Dunmeris right now. He opened the door and strode in confidently.Â
Yakin Bael was sitting across the room, holding a small prayerbook in one hand and studying it. At Kassurâs entrance he looked up past his small spectacles.Â
(Spectacles. What a strange invention of the House mer and outlanders! Magic could just as easily repair poor eyesight. Why rely on thin circles of glass to do the same, such easily shattered things?)
Yakin was an old mer - almost preternaturally so, given that he was probably Telvanni. Despite this, his hair was dark reddish-brown, with scarcely a gray hair in sight. His longevity, he would say, was owed not to any magical prolonging, but to simple good health. Kassur knew, however, that he was a master of the art of Restoration, and was likely lying.
âWelcome, Kassur,â Yakin said, in Dunmeris, putting down his prayerbook. âShall we get straight to your lessons?â
Kassur knew enough Dunmeris to be slightly dangerous. So long as someone spoke slowly - as Yakin did by his very nature - he could make out the gist of what they were saying. He struggled, however, with producing some of the strange sounds the language relied on. He was also being taught to read and write, and while he could almost reliably do the former, his hand shook too much for the latter; he could never get the grip on the pen or brush right.
Thankfully, Yakin was not only a patient teacher, but a native speaker of Velothi, too. This helped immensely to help translate certain nigh-untranslatable things, as well as in giving Kassur an out when he was too tired to speak Dunmeris.Â
As he was now. He needed to save his energy for later today. âCan we keep this lesson short, kena?â Kassur asked in Velothi. âI am expected inâŠMushroom Forest later today.â
âSadrith Mora,â Yakin corrected, still speaking Dunmeris. âAnd yes, that is amenable.â He gestured towards one of the walls, upon which was a mural of the three impostors.Â
âAzuraâs starry tits,â whispered Kassur before raising his voice to reply, âNot there.â
Apparently Yakin heard the expletive. âYou should say something like, âSehtâs shiny beardâ instead. Or even âbâVehk.ââ He seemed to blush as he caught himself. âBut I shouldnât be encouraging you to say profanities.â
âSorry, kena,â said Kassur, emphasizing by speaking polite Dunmeris. âCan we study over there, please?â He pointed at the wall of the chapel with the mural of Veloth leading his people to Morrowind.
Yakin nodded, the two sat next to the mural, and began their lesson.
madstone: chapter 1
- previous part -
Yakin finished todayâs shortened tutelage by handing Kassur a small book. âHere,â he said. âThis will be the rest of your lesson. Study it at home, or on the way to Sadrith Mora.â
Kassur took the tome, squinting to read the Daedric script on the cover. âTheâŠFourâŠâ
âSuitors,â translated Yakin.
â...ofâŠâ Kassur squinted harder. âWhatâs this last word?â
âBenitah,â Yakin explained. âItâs a name.â
âWhatâs this book about?â
Yakin smiled. âWhat the title says. Keep an eye out for me. Iâm in this book.â
Kassur scrunched up his face. âAre you seeking this Benitahâs hand?â
âNo. Just read it.â
âYes, kena,â said Kassur. Yakin seemed a bit too proud to feature in a work of fiction, Kassur thought. He stood to ready himself to leave.
âAnd Kassur?â Yakin called.
âYes, kena?â
âWear some shoes next time, please.â
Kassur suppressed a frown and nodded solemnly. If he insists.
After leaving, it was almost seven oâclock, the sun still struggling to rise. Kassur left the walled portion of Vos and headed for the docks.Â
He was admittedly worried about this trip. Not just because of his purpose, either - heâd also never been on a boat before. The Ahemmusa usually fished from the shores, or from water-walking spells provided by the wise women. He was uncertain as to how his stomach would hold up.
He walked past Varoâs Tradehouse - where heâd bought his House mer clothes by bartering ashyams - and came upon the shipmaster. She was a simply dressed woman, but with an elaborate bun tying up her hair. She was busy picking at her fingernails.
âHello,â Kassur said in Dunmeris.Â
Without looking up, the shipmaster said, âYes? What can I do for you?â
âI would like to travel toâŠSaddith Mora,â Kassur said, trying to remember what Yakin had told him the name was.
The shipmaster finally looked up. âSadrith Mora,â she said, then asked, âYouâre that new ashlander, arenât you?â
Kassur wasnât sure how to respond, so he just nodded. Was it that obvious? Heâd worn the right clothes, and he didnât think his accent was that bad. Maybe Yakin was right to insist he wore shoes; maybe that tipped her off. Not discouraged, however, he tried again. âCan you take me to Sadrith Mora?â
âYes,â the woman said, expressionless. âFor a price. Fifty drakes.â
Kassur frowned. That was much more than heâd expected the fare to be. He pulled out his makeshift coinpurse and started counting out septims. He only found eighty-two. How was he going to get back to Vos?
No matter. He needed to go to Sadrith Mora. Heâd figure out a way back somehow. He handed over fifty coins to the shipmaster.
Finally she smiled. âVery good,â she said. âThe nameâs Sedyni Veran. Iâll be your captain for this voyage.â She chuckled at herself. âWhatâs your name, ashlander?â
âKassur,â he said, blushing.
âJust Kassur?â Sedyni asked as she put the coins away in a nearby lockbox.Â
âJust Kassur,â he affirmed. Heâd once had a family name, but he didnât want anything to do with it anymore.
âVery well. Climb aboard, âJust Kassur.ââ She hopped onto the ship from the dock, and beckoned him to follow.
Nervously, Kassur took a tentative step onto the boat. Immediately he could feel the wobble of the water, and being half on land and half at sea made him feel ill at ease. He quickly put his other foot forward, planting them both firmly on the deck. He took another step forward toward the mast, but almost tripped as the boat lurched casually, doubling over to catch himself.
âNo sea legs, eh?â Sedyni asked as she began to tend to the rigging. âYouâll get used to it. Just head below deck and have a seat. Try not to throw up on my ship.â
- - - - -
The voyage was miserable and exciting all at once. Kassur refused to head below deck, so that he could see the world around him as they passed it by. They sailed between the Grazelands and some islands, past Tel Mora first. Heâd heard of the place - it was a place of only women. He liked the idea.Â
Next they passed an evil looking place on the following island. It reminded him of the ruins of Kushtashpi, west of the old Ahemmusa camp. He asked Sedyni about it.
âThey call it Esutanamus,â she answered. âThey say Molag Bal is worshiped there, Vivec curse his name.â
After Esutanamus, on the west coast this time, they spotted a great fortress. Sedyni, expecting Kassurâs curiosity, explained. âThatâs Indoranyon. Old Dunmeri stronghold from the days of Resdayn. You know, when Nerevar led your people and mine together against the Nords and Dwemer.â She sighed. âIn better days, at least. Now itâs home to Daedra worshipers. Bad Daedra, that is,â she corrected quickly.
After Indoranyon, they headed southeast away from the mainland of Vvardenfell, passing through some small islands. âWeâre almost there,â Sedyni said.Â
Thank Boethiah, thought Kassur. He stood from where he had sat, head against the mast, and leaned against the railing. He could see the mushroom towers now, standing tall over the rocks.
Finally they arrived at the docks, which were made of fungal roots, rather than wood, like the one at Vos. Sedyni handed Kassur off to the local shipmaster, who she introduced as Gals Arethi.
âGo easy on him,â she whispered to Gals, but Kassur could still hear. âHeâs some sort of exile, I think. Not used to the world.â Gals nodded, but his face frightened Kassur. He looked so stern and irascible.
âNew to Sadrith Mora?â Gals asked, speaking the kind of quick Dunmeris Kassur hated. âWhat would you like to know?â He had to repeat himself several times before Kassur could make out what he was asking.Â
âWolfâŠa ring, hall, please,â Kassur murmured, unsure of the words. They were Cyrodiilic, and he knew no Cyrodiilic.
âSorry?â Gals asked. âSpeak up, boy.â
âWolf-a-ring-hall,â Kassur said, speaking quickly to hide his lack of confidence.
âWolverine Hall, you mean?â Gals pointed southeast. âOpposite side of town. Good luck.â
Kassur wondered what Gals meant by âgood luck,â but didnât ask. He walked on the spongy fungal floor until he reached real solid ground. Oh, he could just fall down and kiss it! But he decided it wouldnât raise Galsâ already poor estimation of him, so didnât.Â
Kassur approached the giant round gate of Sadrith Mora, the coarse stone beneath him rough on his bare feet. He made to go through the gate, but two armored guards with squid-like helmets crossed their spears before it.Â
âPapers?â one of them asked, his coarse Vvardenfell accent coarser than mostâs.Â
Kassur shook his head. Papers? What did he mean by that?
âNo entry,â the other guard said. âOr go see the Prefect upstairs.â
âOkay,â said Kassur. He stepped back from the gate and looked up. There were two arms of spiraling stairs reaching a door at the top, directly above the gate. The entire structure was one enormous mushroom. Kassur ascended the left side and opened the door.Â
Inside a mer sat at a desk to the right; to the left was another spiral staircase up. The Dunmer didnât look up from whatever he was doing. âYes?â
Kassur cleared his throat and asked, âPapers?â
The seated Dunmer looked up, a wicked smile on his face. âAh, so youâve come to the Prefect of Hospitality for your Hospitality Papers, eh?â
Kassur scratched the back of his neck. âYes.â
âWell, youâre in luck,â the Prefect said. He lifted a sheet of paper from his desk. âI just finished making this copy.â He extended an empty hand towards Kassur. Kassur just stared at it. âItâs not free, you know,â the Prefect said. âTwenty-five septims.â
Kassur frowned and rubbed his forehead. âNeed to go back home, too,â he said.Â
âWell, you should have planned ahead,â the Prefect tutted. âHave you the gold?â
Kassur reluctantly took out his coinpurse and counted out twenty-five coins. He only had seven left - not enough to make it back to Vos, for sure.Â
He dropped the coins in the Prefectâs waiting hand, which quickly closed around them. The Prefect made a show of counting them out, then put them in the pocket of his robes. He handed Kassur the Hospitality Papers, which Kassur couldnât really read. âThere you go, young man. Enjoy your stay in Sadrith Mora.â
Kassur grunted and went back outside, descended the stairs, and approached the gate again. He held up his newly-acquired papers for the guards. One of them bent forward a bit to loosely examine it, but not for very long.Â
âLooks good to me,â he grunted. The two guards uncrossed their spears and began to open the strange circular gate. It was hinged in the middle, spinning on a central axis. Kassur walked through it on the left side, squeezing past the guard who refused to budge from his post.Â
Yakin had told Kassur about Sadrith Mora before, the capital of Telvanni power on the island. It was, as its name suggested, a forest of mushrooms. As far as Kassur could tell, there wasnât a single normal building here; they were all made of giant mushrooms.Â
It wasnât midday yet; Kassur had about an hour to kill. Heâd planned it out this way - he wanted to roam the circular streets of Sadrith Mora and take in the city before his lunchtime appointment.Â
After he was free of the structure containing the gate, he was face to face with an enormous mushroom tower, climbing high above the city in its center. Its bulbs and horns and stalks were interwoven into a complex building - which seemed to lack stairs entirely. Were they inside? How did you get to the top?
After his awe at the massive building subsided, he hung a left and began to circumnavigate it. The first thing of note he found was a covered marketplace, with several merchant stalls serving a sizable crowd of people. Kassur had to avert his gaze from the items on display; he didnât have any money to buy anything, so why get excited?
Adjoining the marketplace was a raised trio of fungal pod-cages. In his best Dunmeris Kassur asked a nearby guard about them.Â
âOld slave market,â the gravelly voice behind the helmet said. âClosed down about a month ago by the new Archmagister.â
A slave market, Kassur thought. Ahemmusa hadnât kept slaves for generations. The concept of it made him feel sick. He was glad for the Archmagisterâs decision, whoever they were.Â
He was pulled from his thoughts by some shouting in the market. He saw a Dunmer arguing with one of the merchants, who was short and brown-skinned. Kassur wasnât sure what kind of mer he was. The argument was in Cyrodiilic, so Kassur couldnât tell what it was over.Â
Suddenly, the Dunmer reached up to hit the smaller mer. But someone from behind caught his arm.Â
In elaborate robes and with a massive metal gauntlet on one hand was the first Argonian Kassur had ever seen. They were tall and lean, their nearly golden scales glistening in the morning sun, save for a black mark on their throat. In their offhand they leaned on a fully metal spear with more spikes than Kassur had ever seen. Something about them, perhaps just the alien nature of their race, struck Kassur, gluing his feet to the spot, and his eyes on them.Â
Kassur couldnât make out whatever the Argonian said to the Dunmer - it was in Cyrodiilic again, no doubt - but whatever was said, the situation was resolved. The Dunmer seemed to apologize to the Argonian and to the smaller mer before heading towards the giant central tower of the city. Kassurâs eyes followed the Argonian and their two Dunmer companions as they left the city.Â
Kassur stood there, lost in some kind of awe before a guard bumped into him, tearing him from it. He scurried along around the city.Â
On his left he came across a tall building. It wasnât tall like that central tower - this one was built on fungal stilts, with a long spiral staircase rising up to meet it. It gave Kassur a dark feeling, so he hurried past it.Â
Kassur circled around the back of the great central tower. There werenât any homes in this eastern half of the city - just a street between the towerâs ditch on the right and a large hill closing in on the left. He carried on southwards, a mostly straight-shot to Wolverine Hall.
The fort was enormous. It was made in the same style of hewn stone as the lower half of Tel Vos, but without all the fungal growths piercing through it. Kassur passed by a strange wooden building on his left and crossed the bridge into the fort proper.
This was about as far as he could manage on his own. He knew he was looking for the Mageâs Guild, and that was it. Inside the fort was all the same grey stone walls, large courtyards with no doors in sight. Kassur slowly started to feel his way through them.
Rounding a corner to the left he found another courtyard, with a stone staircase to his right, and a fire surrounded by a couple of Imperial guards to his left. One of the guards squatted near the fire, tending to a pot hanging over it, while the other worked a sword on an anvil, periodically checking its straightness. Kassur tentatively approached, and asked in Dunmeris, âWhere is Mageâs Guild?â
The guard tending the pot looked up at Kassur, then glanced at his companion. âDunmeris,â the squatting guard said. The anvil guard nodded and approached Kassur, sword in hand. Kassur took a step back, intimidated. But the guard smiled and said, in Dunmeris more broken than Kassurâs, âUp stairs. Through chapel. Up stairs. First door.â
Kassur nodded slowly, and said, âThank you.â He backed away and then turned to hurry up the steps. At the top he finally found a door, and went inside.
Inside stood a man bent over a table laden with alchemical ingredients and apparatus. He turned, mortar and pestle in hand, and smiled at Kassur. âGreetings,â he said in suitable Dunmeris. âHow may I help you?â
âMageâs Guild?â Kassur asked, pulling the collar of his shirt from his neck anxiously.
âAh,â said the man, frowning as he pointed at a nearby door. âGo into the stairwell there and head upstairs. Should be the first door you come across.â
âThank you,â Kassur said. These directions made more sense to him. He waved farewell as he went through the indicated door. He went upstairs and into the next room.
It was a relatively small room, but full with people - Kassur guessed eight. There were men, tall golden-skinned mer, a couple of Dunmer, and even an Argonian, which excited him again for some reason.Â
But it was the Dunmer woman behind the desk in the back that Kassur had come to see. He quietly asked a nearby woman in Dunmeris if he could speak with her. She didnât seem to understand. Exasperated and embarrassed, Kassur simply called out, âMinabibi!â
The entire room, which had been abuzz with quiet conversation, fell silent, and everyone looked at Kassur.
The woman behind the desk looked up at the newcomer in horror. She tilted her head at first, then frowned, nearly knocking a candlestick off the desk as she swept around it. âKassur!â she whispered in Velothi. âPlease. No shouting in the Guild. This isnât the Fighterâs Guild.â
Kassur apologized, and raised an eyebrow. âThereâs a Fighterâs Guild too?â
âThese Imperials and House mer have many Guilds,â Minabibi said, shaking her head. She grabbed Kassur by the arm and turned towards the Argonian, saying something to him in Cyrodiilic. He smiled and nodded, waving the two of them away. Then Minabibi led Kassur out of the room, back down the stairs and outside.Â
âWho is he?â Kassur asked. He was relieved to be able to speak Velothi again.
âSkink?â Minabibi asked. âHeâs the head of the chapter here. Heâs the one who invited me to study at the Guild. Although sometimes I think he intends to study me more than the other way around.â She led Kassur out of the fort and to the strange wooden building Kassur had passed before. âLetâs grab lunch,â she said, taking Kassur inside.
The door opened onto a hallway, but Minabibi quickly turned left and took Kassur up the stairs. At the top was a massive woman, tall and well-built.
âHello, Helende,â Minabibi said. The woman grunted but smiled. Kassur kept close to Minabibi as they passed by her.
To the right at the end of another hall was a bar. The bartender smiled widely and said, in Dunmeris, âMina! The usual, today?â She glanced at Kassur. âFor two, maybe?â
âNo, Muriel,â Minabibi said, smiling back. âWeâll split a racer egg and a bottle of shein.â
âYouâre lucky,â Muriel said as she reached under the counter and prepared to cook. âI was saving this last egg for somebody else. But I think I can make an exception for you two. He wonât be happy, though.â She made some kind of rude gesture. âBut fetch âim! He can deal with it.â
âThank you,â Minabibi said. She took a seat at a table in the corner, and Kassur followed suit. âWhatâs brought you here, Kassur?â she asked as she poured shein into Kassurâs cup.Â
âIâm not with the tribe anymore,â said Kassur.
âAh,â Minabibi said. âWell, Iâm not really either. I havenât spoken with anyone from home in months. Youâre the first in that much time.â
âThereâs a reason,â Kassur said.
âOh?â She leaned forward after filling her own cup.Â
âTheyâve all gone mad.â
âDoesnât surprise me,â Minabibi said before taking a long draught from her cup.
âNo,â Kassur said. âYou donât understand. Theyâre lost to Sheogorath.â
âLower your damn voice,â Minabibi said, looking around. âBut explain. Quietly.â
âYou know how the Nerevarine cleared out the old shrine?â
âYes, I heard about that. That was after I left, though.â
âWell, a few weeks afterwards everybody moved there permanently.â Kassur slowly took a sip of his cup, but twisted his face at the taste. âTastes like guarpiss,â he said - quietly, this time.
âYeah,â Minabibi agreed. âBut why would they fall to Sheogorath? They have the Madstone.â
âSome sâwit gave it to the Nerevarine as a âtoken,â or something.â
Minabibi nearly spat out her drink. âThey moved into the shrine without the Madstone?â
âI donât know who made the decision. Sinnammu, maybe. Or maybe Urshamusa had a vision - sent by Sheogorath, no doubt.â
âWell,â Minabibi said. âThereâs no saving them, then.â
âOf course there is!â Kassur said, raising his voice. âThere must be!â
âSheogorath is a tricky Prince. Hard to come back from madness.â
âBut it must be possible!â Kassur nearly shouted. He lowered his voice, looking down. âIt must be.â He looked back up and planted an angry, shaking finger on the table. âI left them behind. I cobbled together Imperial coin for this trip, to come see you, to get help. And all you can say is âThereâs no saving themâ?â
âYouâd need a lot more help than I can give, Kassur.â She sighed. âEven the Guild likely couldnât do it.â She shook her head. âAssuming theyâd even want to.â
âOh,â Kassur said. âSo they get their wise woman and now theyâre happy to let the rest kill each other?â
âItâsâŠitâs not all bad,â Minabibi said after a pause. âItâs better, living this way, I think. They couldnât accept it. So maybeâŠâ
âSo you think itâs okay, too,â Kassur said. âThey donât deserve to live, because they live differently.â
âI wasnât going to say that,â Minabibi said.
âWerenât you, though?â
âOne racer egg, coming up!â Muriel approached the table and placed a platter down with a massive yellowish hard-boiled egg on it, drizzled with some dark sauce.Â
âSheâll eat it herself,â Kassur said. He stood and left the cornerclub.
madstone: chapter 2
- previous part -
Kassur at least made it out of the city before he fell apart.
Just outside the gates, he finally collapsed to his knees, and wept, and beat his head with his fists. He sat like that for what felt like hours, letting his rage run through him like a kagouti.Â
Eventually, he started to recover himself. In the Mephalan tradition, he began to plot. Plots required steps. So he began to figure out his next steps.
First, he needed to stop hitting himself. Then, he needed to stop weeping. Then he needed to stand up. Then he needed to turn around. Then he needed to head back into the city.
Then he needed to join House Telvanni.
- - - - -
Kassur crossed the large fungal-root bridge leading to the Telvanni Council House, passed through a circular root gate like the one at the entrance to Vos, and went inside the large mushroom building.Â
A Dunmer woman stood in the foyer, leaning against the opposite wall. She glanced up from a book at Kassur as he entered. She looked back down to continue reading as she asked, âWhat do you want?â
Kassur swallowed heavily before speaking. âWork,â he said.Â
The woman swore under her breath. âGotta be Telvanni to get work, ashlander.â
Kassur ignored the intended insult and persisted. âIâll join.â
The woman lowered the book to evaluate Kassur completely. âAnd why would we take you?â
Kassur didnât know. He thought for a minute before snapping a small flame onto his fingertips.Â
âParlor trick,â the woman scoffed. âAnyone can light a small fire.â
âI can learn,â said Kassur, desperate.Â
âWhatever. Your funeral. Go in and talk to one of the Mouths.â
Kassur walked past the woman, making sure to keep a wide berth around her, and went through the next circular door.Â
The ensuing chamber was massive, and interpenetrated with giant, azure-violet crystal growths. Seven raised platforms ringed around a larger central crystal, smoking from within its fungal sconce. Some of the platforms were empty, but mer stood on the central five.Â
Kassur took the steps down to the walkable platform around the central crystal, by which one could access the people on the platforms. He started on his right and addressed the first mer he came across, the only one in mostly plain dress rather than elaborate robes. âHello.â
The mer seemed distracted by the wisps of smoke hissing from the central crystal. He looked down at Kassur and said, âHello. Archmagisterâs Mouth, Edd Theman, at your service. How can I help you?â
Kassur tried to twist the Dunmeris from his dry tongue, but to little avail. So all he said, again, was, âJoin Telvanni.â
âAh,â Edd said. âThat can be arranged.â He pulled out a small book from a back pocket and flipped through it. âI hope I donât need to give you the whole spiel about rules.â Kassur looked blankly up at him; he was speaking too fast, and he barely could make out what Edd was saying.Â
âAh, here,â Edd said, pulling a pen from another pocket. âYour name, son?â
âKassur,â Kassur answered.
âUhhhhh-huh.â Edd started writing some sloppy Daedric, and then showed it to Kassur. âDid I spell it right?â
From what Kassur could tell - it was very sloppy Daedric, and he struggled enough to read proper Daedric - Edd had written âCasser.â Kassur closed his eyes and nodded. Maybe the curse he was bringing upon himself by joining this House wouldnât take effect if they got his name wrong.
âAlright,â Edd said, putting away the pen and book. âYouâre now a hireling of House Telvanni.â
âWork?â Kassur said.
âAh, you require a chore,â Edd said. He pulled out another book from another pocket and started flipping through it. âWell, there is something I need somebody to do. I was going to get somebody higher-ranked to do it, but you seem capable enough. Plus Iâm running out of time.â From yet another pocket he pulled out some kind of amulet. âIn an hour or so on the east end of town, down the road past the cornerclub, thereâs going to be a little meeting between a couple of important people. I want you to wear this, hide nearby, and report back to me on what they talk about. Understood?â
Kassur took the amulet from Eddâs hands. It had an ordinary leather strap but a rather enormous sapphire embedded in the six-pointed talisman. He wrapped it around his throat and clasped it behind his neck. It felt warm to the touch as it activated.
âWell then! Whereâd Casser go?â Edd said. âHaha! I know youâre still there. Itâs quite an exceptional necklace, so do bring it back. Archmagisterâs property.â
Kassur looked at his hands and could barely see them. All that remained of his body was a faint shimmer, like a mirage on a hot ashland day. He took off the amulet, and his form returned to normal. He put it in his pocket, waved Edd goodbye, and left to cross town again.Â
- - - - -
The sun was hanging low when Kassur hid behind a rock, put on the necklace, and waited. This side of the island was devoid of civilization, besides an abandoned ancient Daedric ruin like the one Kassur had passed on the ship. The boulder he chose to hide behind was large and mossy and covered in racer droppings.
Eventually, two people did show up. One was Helende, the enormous mer from the cornerclub, armored with netch leather. The other was the Mageâs Guild Argonian, Skink, who wore commoners clothing, but had a glass dagger on his belt. Kassur leaned in slightly to listen to what was said.Â
They were speaking Cyrodiilic.Â
Kassur pressed his palms into his eyes and suppressed a sigh. This obviously wasnât going to work. He waited for the two to leave before he removed the amulet.Â
What was he going to do? He had nothing to report to Edd, because he didnât understand a word that was said. He needed to get the hell out of this town.
But right now, he was exhausted and needed a bed to sleep in. He pulled out his coinpurse and counted out his seven coins. Suddenly, he remembered the small book in his other pocket, the one Yakin had given him, and he had an idea.
Kassur crossed the town again and made for the market. There was the strange short mer from earlier, seemingly closing up shop. Kassur approached, but the mer saw and shook his head. âClosed for the day,â he said in shaky Dunmeris.
âJust want to sell something,â Kassur said.
âToo bad. Wait until morning.â The little mer finished packing up his goods and left for his home.
Kassur sighed. He decided to make his way to the inn where heâd purchased his Hospitality Papers, and hoped he could beg his way into getting a room for the night.
He went up the spiral stairs to reach the front door of the inn and went inside. There he saw the Prefect again, dozing at his desk. âHello,â Kassur said, carefully shaking the Prefect from his tenuous slumber.
The Prefect straightened his back and looked up at Kassur. âAh, need Papers?âŠOh, of course not. What can I do for you?â
âBed?â Kassur asked.
âAh,â the Prefect said. âTalk to the publican, Ery, two stories up. She can get you signed in.â He waved Kassur off, presumably so he could resume his half-sleep at his desk uninterrupted.
Kassur went up the spiral stairs, first passing a floor with a couple of empty but candlelit tables, then up another flight to a bar. At the center was a dark-skinned woman in a brownish-green robe. âEry?â Kassur asked tentatively.
âThe one and only,â she said. âWhat can I do for you?â
âBed?âÂ
âAh. Thatâll be ten gold.âÂ
Kassur frowned and held out his hand, filled with his last seven coins. âEnough?â
Ery took the coins and counted them out. âNo, not enough. Itâs ten gold.â
Kassur rubbed his forehead. She was really going to make him do it, huhâŠHe pulled his book from his pocket and handed it over as well. âEnough?â
Ery took the book and flipped through it. âI donât buy books, sera.â
âPlease,â Kassur said.
âDonât look so desperate, sera,â Ery said. âIâll take it, and your coin. I happen to like books like these. But youâre getting the shit room, just to let you know.â
She took down his name in a logbook and gave him directions to his room, and he followed them. He probably could have gotten more for the book than three drakes at an actual bookshop, but he didnât have the luxury of selling it at one at the moment. He closed the door to his room behind him, and, having nothing to put away, he simply threw himself on the bed, and tried not to fall apart again. He was completely out of gold, stuck in a foreign town, with no way home. And this room reeked, like the smell of burning shock magic. It gave him a very uneasy feeling. He didnât know how he was ever going to sleep here. Much less how he was ever going to get home, and even much less how he was going to save his tribe.
As he stared at the high ceiling, tied up with fungal roots, he was unable to close his eyes for sleep. But suddenly, he had an idea.
Tomorrow morning, he was going to go back to the docks.
- - - - -
Kassur made sure Gals Arethi wasnât around before he carefully stepped onto the boat, warmly magical amulet around his neck. He made an effort to do it more gracefully than he had yesterday. Crouched low, he nearly crawled upon the planks, trying to be both steady and unseen. Of course, with this necklace, no one was going to see him, anyway.
Thankfully, the hatch to below the deck was propped open. Kassur approached and was just about to make his way down when Gals Arethiâs head poked out of the trapdoor and looked around. Kassur crouched even lower, sitting perfectly still.
But Gals didnât seem to see him. He went back down the stairs into the ship.
Kassur waited for a moment before following him down. This level of the boat was stocked with barrels and crates and chests and sacks. He decided to take a spot behind the stairs to hide, and hoped Gals had no reason to come down there to that particular place. Anxiously he waited for Gals to go back up the stairs and close the hatch behind him before he began to relax.
Eventually Kassur heard some creaking of the deck above him - had Gals heard that when Kassur boarded? - and soon felt that uneasy feeling of movement through the water. Gals should be busy above-deck until they arrive in Vos, and then Kassur could sneak back out when they get there.
Suddenly, the trap door opened again, and Kassur saw two furry feet descending the stairs. It was one of the cat-men, which heâd never seen before. He took a look around, and, seeing something nearby Kassur, his feline eyes lit up. He came behind the stairs - Kassur held his breath and stayed perfectly still - and picked up a lute leaning against the hull of the ship. He gave it a strum, adjusted the pegs on the head of the instrument, and took a seat on a nearby stool.
He was just about to start playing when he said, in strangely-accented Dunmeris, âDo you have any requests, invisible man?â
Kassurâs eyes nearly popped out of his head. He held up a finger to his lips and shook his head.
âAh,â the cat-man said, âSâBakha sees. Or, doesnât see. Maybe you will like this song, anyways.â
Then he began to play. He didnât strum the entire collection of strings, but instead plucked them in a style of claw-picking Kassur had never seen or heard before. The instrument, although somewhat ill-tempered by the salty sea-air, still produced a beautiful sound with every note, playing a foreign song. Eventually SâBakha began to sing, which wasnât as good as the lute-playing, and Kassur didnât understand the words. But Kassur relaxed as he listened. It helped to keep his mind off of things, such as his peopleâs plight, and more presently, the rocking of the ship.
It barely registered to him that the amulet was growing colder and colder.
- - - - -
They finally arrived, but seemingly much too soon. Did Gals take a shorter route? Or did the cat-manâs music just make the time seem to go by faster? SâBakha set down the lute and rose to make for the deck. Kassur quietly followed after a moment or two.
The morning mist had mostly cleared, and the sun hung high in the sky. Crouched low on the deck, Kassur saw Gals conversing with his legitimate passengers. To Kassurâs surprise, it was the Argonian from Sadrith Moraâs market the day before, and one of their earlier compatriots, a Dunmer man. SâBakha went to join them, which caused Gals to turn his head.Â
He saw Kassur.
âYou!â he said, marching up towards Kassur, who stood up straight, knowing there was no escape now. âAshlander! What are you doing on my ship?â
Kassur was too paralyzed to speak.Â
âWhatâs going on here?â asked the imposing Argonian.
âIt seems to me,â Gals said, âthat this low-life has stowed away on my ship without paying fare!â
âGals,â the robed Dunmer next to the Argonian said, âif that is the worst thing that happens to you today, consider yourself very lucky. Young man,â he said, addressing Kassur now, âWhere were you hoping to go?â
âV-Vos,â Kassur managed through trembling lips.
âThe poor chap didnât even get where he wanted to go. Shame.â The Dunmer turned back to Gals. âLet him go. See if he finds Tel Aruhn any better a place than Sadrith Mora.â
âWait,â the Argonian said, sauntering up to Kassur. They took hold of the amulet around his neck and plucked it off forcefully. âThis is mine. How did you get it?â
âEdd gave it to me,â Kassur croaked. âFor a chore.â
âTypical,â the Argonian said, pocketing the amulet. âAnd youâve drained it, too.â
âWait,â Kassur said, realizing. âYouâre the Archmagister? He said it was hers.â
âYes, despite all challenges,â she said.Â
âI need your aid,â Kassur said. âAhemmusa needs your aid.â
âAgain?â the Archmagister laughed. âDo they need me to clear out another shrine?â
âNo,â Kassur said. âTheyâve gone mad. They need help.â
âAryonâs jurisdiction,â she said, glancing at the Dunmer at her side. âAnd weâre both busy at the moment.â
âMeet me at Tel Vos tomorrow,â Aryon said with a polite smile. âWeâll see what can be done.â
âI canât get there,â Kassur said. âNo money.â
The cat-man, SâBakha, stepped in. âGracious Archmagister, SâBakha believes there is the small matter of payment for his humble aid in your recent quest?â
âHmph,â said the Archmagister. She fumbled around in a pocket of her robes - which Kassur just now noticed had a great gash in it, which hadnât been present yesterday, revealing her armor underneath - and handed SâBakha a bag full of coins. âNot sure how much that is. But you can have it.â
The cat-man, shrewd as Kassur had heard his kind to be, opened the bag and started counting. âMost gracious Archmagister,â he exclaimed, âthis is nearly a thousand drakes! Are you sure?â
âTake it,â the Archmagister said with a nod. âYouâve earned it.â
âWell,â SâBakha said, turning to Gals, âHow much fare for a mer to get to Vos?â
Gals grumbled. âFifty septims.â
SâBakha casually grabbed a hearty handful of coins and handed them to Gals. âThat should be enough, plus a tip, for you being such a compassionate man. Take this young man home.â
Kassur stared at SâBakha, wide-eyed. âButâŠI barely know you.â
âYou were a good sport, listening to SâBakha play and sing,â SâBakha said. âA good audience, even when you were invisible. Usually the performer is paid by the audience, but, well. The performer has suddenly encountered a great windfall.â
âThank you,â said Kassur.Â
âArchmagister,â Aryon said, placing a gentle gloved hand on her armored shoulder, âWe have ourâŠbloody business to attend to.â
âYes,â she said, and the three turned to depart the ship, leaving behind Gals and Kassur.
âYouâre lucky the Archmagisterâs pet intervened,â Gals said. âNow get below deck. I donât want to see you until we get to Vos, or Iâll throw you overboard.â
Kassur smiled and nodded. He was just glad to go home.





