The Crate, Part 1

The Crate, or an Account of Modern Dunmer Politics

by Aso Indaren

Day 1

Much is said of the life of a Telvanni wizard, but one quality that is never attributed to it is that of dullness. Let this tale show that. One statement often made about my people, however, is that they do not know of the world outside of their towers. If that were the case, this would never have happened.

I am Aso Indaren, and I have been a member of this most mystical of Houses since I first learnt of their existence: early, in other words, especially since I grew up in Bahrammu, at the edge of Telvannis District – Telvoneth, as it is known nowadays. That was several decades ago, though. When I was born, the Cyrodiils were still in nominal control of all of Tamriel. That seems a laughable prospect now, what with the domains of the Khajiit, Argonians, Altmer, and Dunmer in open defiance, the aforementioned lizard-folk having expanded beyond the Deshaan. Furthermore, not a week goes by at this point without another story about the new regime in Summurset Isle – the Thamnor, or whatever they call themselves – and their attacks on Bosmeri powers. I do not care for Altmer politics; matters this side of White Gold Tower seem of far greater importance.

But I digress. In the decades since I first travelled from the windswept isle of Balvvarden to the nearest mushroom-tower town, Tel Ouada, I have become one of the highest-ranked retainers to Mistress Rathra, the local Telvanni master.

Today, I was summoned to Rathra's inner sanctum. Believe me, that does not happen often, and this was only my second time. Apparently, she wanted me to deliver some sort of crate to an associate. This sort of thing happens all the time. The Telvanni masters tend to stay in their towers, this is true, but the same can be said for their equivalents in the council of Redoran, and of Dres and Sadras and Hlaalu.

“And where should this crate be delivered to?” “An associate of mine, and of the Telvanni. Itun Endalos” “And where does Endalos live, muthsera?” “Narsis.”

Narsis! Most of these deliveries are to the area controlled by the tower. Tel Ouada has control over Bahrammu, as well as Bal Oyra and a few mountain villages. But Narsis? It's not even in Morrowind any more! Narsis and the surrounding area became a protectorate of the Argonian state in 4E 6. The Hlaalu still hold sway there, however, so not much has actually changed. Or so I have heard, anyway; I've never been to Narsis. Looks like I'll have to go there now, though.

“And how might I reach Narsis?” “I have convinced the House to pay for your passage as far as Tel Mothrivra.” About a tenth of the way to the Hlaalu lands, then. “After that, you must find your own way to Helnim.” “Helnim?” “Helnim. The crate contains... sensitive items, and word of it must not reach the authorities in the southern towers. Helnim should be a safe bet as a place to leave Telvoneth – Tel Narrusa is far from the docks, and the master there is incompetent anyway.” “Why would fellow Telvanni object to this?” “That is for you to find out in Narsis. It's not all Telvanni, either. The masters at Mothrivra, Gah Sadrith, and Tel Oren know of this, and support it wholeheartedly. I suspect Archmagister Dral does as well, but he must stay silent for political reasons. I also would try and avoid the crate falling into the hands of any of the other Houses, apart from the Hlaalu. Nothing would happen if it did, but we are not doing this for nothing”. Rathra was getting rather irritable at this point, and I assumed that it was to do with her wanting me to get the crate and stop asking awkward questions. “I see. Where is the crate?” “I have had it delivered to your pod. Try to resist the urge to look inside it until you reach Narsis – although curiosity is seldom a bad thing for a Telvanni, opening the crate would raise more questions than it would answer.”

I gave my thanks to Rathra, and bid farewell. Her response was of a similar nature, implying that she had nothing else to say. I returned to my pod, noticing that it was almost dark and stopping on the way at a bookshop to buy a book on the Hlaalu lands and one on travelling in Morrowind. Bookshops! They're a rarity in the Redoran territories, but here in Telvoneth there's one on every other path.

I found the crate under the bed, wrapped in several layers of cloth seemingly enchanted with anti-water spells. It's the safest place to put a large object in a Telvanni housepod, see. Anyway, I grabbed the crate, along with the books and some spare clothes, and half-ran to Tel Ouada's strider port. Thankfully, Rathra wasn't lying about the first piece of transport. A river strider was waiting for me and the therionaut knew who I was. It didn't take me too long to fall asleep on the strider, however much I knew that the journey would end at the earlier five o'clock tomorrow.

Day 2

The strider arrived at Llothanis at the appointed hour, but any relief at reaching the first town on the long, and sometimes metaphorical, road between Tel Ouada and Narsis was extinguished by the knowledge that I wouldn't see another town for a while until Helnim. This in turn was banished by my sudden memory that my journey by strider actually went as far as Tel Mothrivra. The problem with this arrangement was to do with the striders. They need some sort of sustenance every so often, and although it is possible to obtain it in Llothanis, I can't let the crate be seen, as Master Bal Gernak is no friend of Rathra's. Both me and the therionaut are known associates of Rathra, or at least we are to Gernak's men. And Gernak is no mad recluse – if he can find a way to make Rathra lose face, by Boethiah he will take it.

And he doesn't stay in his manor either. Thankfully, I was probably chosen for this task because I am the most knowledgeable retainer in Tel Ouada when it comes to Destruction magic. Although, to be frank, Illusion would have been more helpful here.

To cut a long story short, three hours after arriving at Llothanis, I was halfway down a mountain on the other side of Llothanis, clutching the crate, books and a large sack of river-strider food, having incapacitated several town guards with mild shock spells and bearing the scars of a few fireballs travelling in the opposite direction. In the town, the guards were busy clearing up a landslide of several hundred ash yams I had managed to engineer using a telekinesis spell and a vegetable stall in order to escape, and my strider's therionaut had seemingly managed to swipe some strider food from somewhere, as he was already halfway up Nebet Bay.

I have no strider. So it looks like the best thing to do is to head south towards Tel Mothrivra and the last lord I can trust.