Chapter 4
The Pact
6 Years Earlier - Mournhold Docks
Ri'shai watched as Tolan slowly strolled down the long docks. She thought she spotted the wiley kha'jiit swipe a purse on his way. The boat he was approaching had several guards standing watch at the entrance ramp.
The ship was quite a ways off but she noticed Tolan passed the guards without a fuss. She had no idea what his business was, but imagined it had something to do with his mercantile affiliations.
Standing beside her was Faradin. He was digging into the last of the steamed mudcrabs. His eyes keenly inspecting the growing crowd ahead. Ri'shai followed his gaze, to see a Dark elf nobleman gathering a crowd about him. The man stood on an upraised platform. His back to the water.
He wore extravagant clothes. Robes of black. The cuffs embroidered with a rich sky blue. In his arms he was carrying a scroll. Ri'shai began scanning the crowd, her eyes fell upon a group of argonian slaves on the other side of the nobleman. She glanced toward Faradin, and saw that he too was watched the chained scaled-men.
He's not watching the nobleman, he's looking toward the slaves. She didn't know the kha'jiit very well, but she would of said he was masterly hiding his anger. A slaver grabbed one of the argonian slaves roughly by the arm - removing his shackles - taking payment from another dunmer. They look so beaten down. Was she this way?
Yes, Yes she was.
Ri'shai felt that familiar hole in her chest. The place that all of her sorrow had been poured into for the last two cycles. The place resigned to never seeing her sister Maya again. She blinked a few times, why was her vision growing fuzzy?
She glanced again toward the chained argonians. The slaver was conversing with the dunmer who was purchasing his wares. Their conversation however was abruptly disrupted as the high noble dunmer unbound his scroll and began to speak with a booming charisma.
"Wayfarers, Travelers, and Dunmer alike! The tribunal has called all adventurers to take heed of world events. With the looming threat of the Akaviri, we in Morrowind find ourselves cornered by circumstance." The dunmer shouted.
Ri'shai thought the man must of trained his voice to travel so well over these crowds. Most likely a herald of the Almsivi courts. The Almsivi, the tribunal, those who ruled over Morrowind and it's inhabitants. Those who condoned slavery.
"Peace-time will be fleeting in the coming moons. Take heed! Grand Mistress Almalexia, the anticipation of Boethiah, our lady of divinity. In her wisdom, has sent messengers such as myself to all corners of Morrowind."
Ri'shai's ears perked up. She glanced at Faradin, he was twirling a blade in hand, his ears twitching at the onslaught of words. She shifted her eyes at the dunmer on his raised platform. She thought he looked nervous.
"The aftermath of the Sack of Windhelm, and the tragic death of Skyrim's Royal family, Jorunn, The Skald King, has thwarted the Akiviri Forces! However, the Akiviri have been pushed across the Velothi Mountains, and began their campaign into Morrowind!"
The crowd gasped at the announcement. Many subdued conversations broke out at once. Ri'shai heard one dunmer woman pleading with her husband, begging the man to take their family south.
"Please Please, let me finish! There is more!" The messenger pleaded.
"What about our families!" someone in the crowd shouted.
The man simply lifted his hands, waiting for the crowd to calm. "Jorunn, The Skald King, rightful king of skyrim, has proposed an alliance with the tribunal. By extension all peoples of Morrowind. Almalexia, with the approval of the tribunal, will be amassing the forces of Morrowind. This alliance will be created in the hopes of crushing the Akaviri invaders! Morrowind is preparing for war!"
With that the man descended from his perch and shoved through the crowd, answering no questions, leaving the crowd in a mixture of emotions. The primary of which was fear.
Ri'shai couldn't believe such a proclamation would be so spewed to the masses in such an unnerving fashion. The dunmer were a difficult race to understand, filled with strange customs. The only thing the dark elves seemed to hold sacred was their honored dead and ancient family.
Ri'shai and Faradin both kept their eye on the crowd as it dispersed, several men heading into "The Mudcrab", presumably to drink away their concerns.
"They won't let me go Faradin."
Ri'shai turned to see Tolan, he had apparently returned from his encounter on the Aldmeri ship. He seemed different. His eyes seemed sunken, his frame trembling with anger. Faradin must of noticied immediately as he turned, stepping past Ri'shai, and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Tell me what happened," Faradin said, "Will they expose you to the Hlaalu?"
Ri'shai glanced around, making sure no one overheard the two.
Tolan looked at Faradin with defeated eyes. It was if he realized the full implications of his news. He glanced away from Faradin, turning his back, seemingly trying to muster some courage.
"It is worse brother," Tolan said, "They have him."
Faradin's brow furrowed. "They have who?"
Tolan just kept his back turned, his shoulders seeming to drop a few inches. His head dipped downward, despair permeating from him. Whatever it was, it didn't seem like Tolan was going to tell Faradin.
"Who!" Faradin demanded, grabbing Tolan by the shoulder and spinning him around. Rage flashing across his face.
"Father," Tolan whispered, stony face meeting the gaze of Faradin.
A mix of emotions ran across Faradin's face. First was shame, followed by emptiness, followed quickly by uncontrollable rage. Faradin was shaking. Ri'shai didn't know what to do, or how to console him. She just knew that Faradin was in pain. She placed a hand on Faradin's shoulder, but the tall kha'jiit shrugged her off.
"Where are they keeping him?" Faradin said.
"They wouldn't tell me, only that he was working in a noble quarry of some sort," Tolan said.
"Then we will send them all to Mafala," Faradin said coldly, "We will weave a web the like of which they've never seen."
Tolan's face turned to hatred for a moment, before settling back on weariness. "The Dar'kir must suffer this Faradin."
Faradin was still shaking, he let loose a guttural growl, shadow's leaping into his hand. Ri'shai felt a pang of fear. Faradin turned, planting a fist into the stone wall. The stones shattered like clay, rubble spilling over the cobblestone ground.
Several passing dunmer looked at the kha'jiit with alarm. Tolan turned to the passerby's.
"Nothing to see here," Tolan said, flashing a characteristic smile.
"How did they know, how?" Faradin whispered, trembling.
Tolan turned, the crowd finding new distractions, and placed a hand on Faradin's shoulder. "They are spies brother, the Dar'kir is a traceable name."
Ri'shai watched closely as Faradin removed his hand from the stone wall. An outline of his fist now lay deep within the stone. Crack sprouting from the outline, a web of intricate lines. Faradin's injured appendage spilled blood on the stones. Mixing rubble with red death.
"There is nothing we can do now Faradin. The Aldmeri won't let me go. They will kill father if we do anything." Tolan said, "Worse, they will expose me to the Hlaalu, ruining all the work we have done."
"Mafala Tolan! We cannot stand idle while father breaks his back. They will open his skull on the day he is too fatigued to lift himself from bed." Faradin said.
Ri'shai knew it was true, slaves had stories of the quarry life. Usually a young slave would be able to last several years. Performing hard labor from dusk to dawn. However, Faradin's father was most likely not young. He may last a year.
"Let's get out of here," Tolan said, grabbing Ri'shai by the hand. "We cannot be seen here."
Ri'shai felt Tolan's trembling hand. Watching as Faradin turned from the wall, a dead gaze plastered across his face. He looked like a man drunk with despair. His world had just come crashing down. They began walking, presumably back to the Dar'kir hideout. Faradin never said a word. He just took mechanical step after mechanical step. Smelling of grief the whole way.
