Deviation Actions
Literature Text
An Ordinator’s Tail
Part III
Methal sat at his desk his head resting against his left hand helmet held by his right by the stiff plume, still brooding over the mornings events. He lied to his captain about his sickness just outside the Hlaalu manor.
How could she do this to me?
That was the thought that kept going through his mind. She could have let him know. A letter, personal message, anything would have been better than to find out how he did. Methal leaned back in his chair craning his head back groaning.
“That bitch.” Methal growled as he threw his helmet against the wall sitting up. It let out a gong like sound as it hit the wall then the floor.
Methal stood and changed out of his armor hanging it on the rack by his bed, polished it, picked up his helmet and did the same with it after cleaning it out first. He changed for bed and laid down. He let out another sigh covering his face with his hands. Methal eventually fell asleep his dreams troubled with images of his former lover in the arms of her future husband. Before he awoke he swore he heard his father’s voice whisper,
“Remember to be faithful to her son. She will watch as you serve the Tribunal.”
***
Methal stood back and admired his handy work. He had removed a small section of the wall and constructed a shrine to Azura. Before he started he went to the mages guild and picked up a small statue of her from one of the members along with a portion of glow dust. He placed the statue on a silver plate along with the dust. Methal then went to his armor and pulled out a little pouch. He opened it and placed two of his grandfather’s knuckle bones on the plate as well. That was the personal item he had taken from home. His family like others often prayed to their ancestors for blessings or wisdom, it was cultural hold over when Ashlanders and Dunmer were on equal social status. His father often told he and his brothers were decedent of a group that lived on Azura’s coast. Feeling satisfied he placed the shrine back in the wall and covered it. Of all the things that could happen now he didn’t need his captain or anyone else for that matter finding out that he worshipped Daedra. While not illegal it would be frowned upon by the others he served with. From that day forward he would pray to Azura during the dawn and dusk for direction and wisdom of his actions. His father was right, Daedra must have a sense of humor only they understand.
***
3rd era 360, 21st First Seed
Methal was watering his saltrice and comberry crop in his back yard humming a hymn to Azura. Over his time spent in Balmora he got promoted to lieutenant and bought a house on the eastern side. Now overseeing the patrol roster but still working nights. This allowed him the time for worship before and after work. His promotion came with the extra details he had performed in service to the Tribunal. His latest, an investigation into a guar herd that was slaughtered, most were eaten. Both the Order of War and Inquisition were looking into the matter after he submitted his report a month ago.
He finished with his plants and looked them over. He would harvest them and give a portion of the seeds in his offering at the shrine of Azura as he had the last eight years. The rest he would brew into homemade brandy and mazte for personal use. The other ordinators had gotten used to him bringing in bottles as gifts. He gathered a small sampling and took it into his house. As soon as he entered a sharp knock issued from his front door. He quickly placed the saltrice and comberries on the table next to his living room and opened the door. An unfamiliar Dunmer man stood on the other side. He wore plan clothing and couriers bag the only exception was the mark of the Order of Inquisition on his lapel.
“May I come in?” The Dunmer asked.
“Yes of course muthsera.” Methal answered allowing his guest to enter.
The Dunmer walked inside of his house stopping in the living room and looked around taking in the modest setting.
“Would you care for a bottle of mazte muthsera?” Methal asked as he closed the door and followed his guest, “I just brewed it a few days ago.”
“Yes please.” The Dunmer said now pulling out a letter from his bag, then sat on the couch. “I have news from your investigation.”
Methal nodded and fetched them both a bottle. He returned to the living room and handed his guest his drink then sat across from him in a chair.
“Good or bad?” Methal asked before taking a sip.
“Good. We found out through several interrogations that the culprit behind that slaughter was a Nord.” The Dunmer stated placing the letter down and taking a sip, now looking surprised from the taste, “You brewed this?”
Methal nodded enjoying the approval from his guest.
“I only wish the temple’s priests had this kind of talent in making potions.” The Dunmer continued between drinks, “Both orders found it strange that a foreigner had managed to come to Vvardenfell without notice. This has the stink of Daedra all over it.”
Methal nodded, Vvardenfell’s borders were patrolled heavily and under the current king it was considered a protected preserve. The Dunmer finished his drink putting the empty bottle on the table.
“This comes from the High Fane. We need to show that Ordinator’s are the law of the Tribunal and can maintain the peace and control our borders.” The Dunmer said then pointed to the letter on the table, “I know that you are on furlough for this week, but this will only take one night. Your orders are in the letter.” The Dunmer stood to leave.
Methal walked his guest to the door. Methal then walked back to the table picked up the letter and read it. He refolded it and went to his armor stand and put on his armor. After doing this he placed his grandfather’s knuckle bones and the some of the comberries and saltrice in a pouch hanging it from his belt. He also grabbed some books to pass the time. It would take a few hours to get to his destination.
***
Kjer Alarkesen stood with his fellow huntsmen in the antechamber next to a shrine to Hircine. His small group of two had steadily grown into ten. They hid in the Uvirith's Grave next to Tel Uvirith. Everything was going as planned. He was the only one with the gift of Hircine and it suited him. It gave him power over the others. Tonight they would attempt to summon Hircine to gain his favor. The first offering was the guar herd. The fool hardy adventurer he had hunted and captured was the next.
Kjer wore animal skins from fresh kills which still reeked of slaughter. He was tall and muscled as most Nords were, his hair wild and matted with blood. He brandished the ceremonial dagger as he walked to the alter. The others in his cult praying to the Daedric Prince of the hunt. He stopped over the offering holding his hands up for the others to stop their chants.
“I have proven myself the superior hunter this night by catching this prey alive!” Kjer proclaimed, then turned to the shrine. “Hircine! Hear me Prince of the hunt! Your loyal servants wish to please you only further!!”
Kjer turned to the alter where the adventurer lay bound by the sinew of slain guar. The Dunmer man’s cries for help muffled by his gag. Kjer quickly raised the dagger with both hands taking aim for the heart.
“Show us a new hunting ground for your loyal servants! We ask only to hunt new prey!!”
Kjer plunged the dagger into the sacrifice, the Dunmer’s eyes went wide with pain then glassy as his heart stopped beating.
A thunderous boom erupted from the chamber and a portal opened. All of the followers stood and gave praise as the ceremony had worked. The portal that opened showed them a land covered in snow. It was Solstheim the frozen land to the north of Vvardenfell.
“Hircine has heard us! We will hunt-“
The large doors to the shrine suddenly blew open. The huntsmen moved closer to the alter from the surprise. Ten Ordinators stormed in readied shields and spells.
“You are under arrest for heresy under Tribunal law! You will submit and be taken to the Ministry of Truth!” One of the Ordinators yelled.
Kjer’ eyes narrowed then gave a satisfied grin.
“Hircine has blessed us with more prey!” Kjer commanded pointing his dagger at the interlopers. “Kill them!”
The huntsmen pulled weapons and charged against the Ordinators. The Ordinators unleashed a wave of fire and lightening against the cult members. Several fell dead from the initial attack. Now the Ordinators pulled the ebony maces from their belts and closed the gap meeting the fool hardy charge. One was smashed across the shoulder the white collar bone ripping the skin on its exit. Another was slain when an Ordinator parried an attack sweeping the attackers leg then bringing the mace down on the attackers face causing the head to explode like a ripe melon.
***
Through the blood and chaos Methal covered his partner from another attack. The sword swing clanged against his shield he followed up pushing the sword aside leaving an opening crashing his mace into the ribcage. He heard as bone splintered and the cult member let out a gout of blood from her mouth.
“Down!” His partner yelled turning to him.
Methal knelt down his comrade swung his mace with both hands catching one of the cult members across the face as he lunged at him. Methal could feel the blood splatter against his helmet and back. He stood and covered his friends flank catching another member of this cult trying to stab his comrade in the back. Methal rushed the attacker with his shield pushing him to the wall, the sound of more bones breaking followed during impact. The cultist fell to the floor he turned to see Kjer walking to the portal which now started to crackle as it lost power. He looked over his shoulder his partner kept the line tight keeping anyone from escaping. He charged for Kjer. This cult would end here. He closed the distance raising his mace to strike, Kjer turned at the last second his left hand already in the portal. Methal swung and missed hitting the portal’s edge with his ebony mace. Energy surged through both him and Kjer as the metallic properties of the mace disrupted the flow of energy. Methal went limp still carried by the force of his charge pushing him and Kjer into the portal. As they did so his last sight was of blinding light and the sound of maniacal laughter. Then darkness.
***
Methal let out a cough as his eyes started to open. The view from his helmet albeit blurry showed him grass and flowers. He tried to move but found he couldn’t. His body stiff from the energies of the portal or severe injury he couldn’t tell. His vision went blurry from the unbearable pain he was in. He gritted his teeth from it. Then he heard voices approaching. The language was unfamiliar to him. Whoever or whatever was coming closer. He could feel himself starting to black out again. His breathing becoming lighter, his eyes losing more focus. Darkness again. Through the darkness he heard hooves fall in front of him, then a small voice spoke,
“Gloria Missa? Licuit mihi?”
Methal could only let out a pained groan.
“Auxilium! Auxilium!” The small voice called out as the hoof falls suddenly left.
Methal felt himself slip further into the darkness.
End part III
