A Murder in Morrowind 4

The Body

“Arkay’s blessing!” I yelled and covered my nose, “That stinks!”

Sure enough, there he was. The half-rotten corpse of my former commander, Cassius Aurelius. Around us, on the walls and ceiling, glowed the faint blue lines that showed the ice enchantments were in full effect.

By full effect, I mean they must’ve been performed by a crippled hedge mage, because it was barely below room temperature! What should’ve been a frosty coolness that would puff your breath was instead a slight nip that was closer to a "warm" day in Skyrim.

The corpse itself was dirt covered and bloated; his skin was a blueish-green hint of decay and I could see the black underneath where his blood had pooled and congealed. His face, once a handsome visage worthy of Dibella, was pulled into a horrifying rictus grin. The smell was literally indescribable.

“My apologies Inquisitor,” Deerkethus said. “Following the exhumation of the corpse, the body was moved several times before settling here.”

“And the enchantments?” I yelled in his face, not caring what he thought of it. “Don’t the Dunmer treat the dead as sacred!?”

“They do sera, Dunmer dead are treated better in death than they were in life.” He said coolly, “As for the enchantments, our local Mage’s Guild provided a novice for them. As practice. I suggest you take up their training methods with them.”

I groaned and looked again at the body. It was clear from the care taken in this investigation that the local Dunmer had zero regard for Imperial protocol. I myself, not partial to this position, was of a similar mind; if it were up to me I wouldn’t even be here. But protocol dictated (as well as my own sense of integrity and dedication to my work) that I complete my mission, and complete it to the full extent of my abilities. Mistreatment of the corpse or no, an autopsy would have to be conducted before I felt comfortable continuing this investigation.

“Argonian, bring me my bag.” I said to Deerkethus, “The heavier one if you will.”

He went outside for a moment before returning. My bag was filled with my “tools of the trade.” My time in the legions had gifted me with skills that transferred over easily to my job as Inquisitor. My investigative skills; the ability to read people through the careful notation of bodily reactions and minute clues; and certain others skills gained from the less than normal legionary duties that I often performed.

One of these tools was a full autopsy set provided to me from my mentor at the Healer’s College. While I won’t go into detail, my work as a healer in the legion was minimal at best, as I was often inflicting damage more often that I was relieving it. Autopsy was just one of the many things I had picked up in my time in the legion.

“Ah, will that be necessary?” Deerkethus said when saw that I had begun to empty my bag of its autopsy tools. Scalpel, bone-saw, and forceps followed in neat order.

“I won’t agree to the robbery theory until I’m satisfied that this was a normal death.” I said without looking at him. Deerkethus sniffed and crossed him arms, but said nothing. I had my suspicions in this case and I wouldn’t rest until they had been quelled. I didn’t care if I had offended him. If he didn’t like it he could go outside and wait; instead he leaned against the wall and observed as I begun.

Of that autopsy I could tell you much, but that would take many more pages than I’m willing to write or that you’re willing to read. What was more than an hour seemed like an eternity, especially when the autopsy was on a man that I had at one time admired. Finally I was done, and I dropped my tools in a haste to control my nerves.

What I found during the autopsy had shaken my confidence not only in my own notions of his mysterious death, but into Cassius’s very nature. They say in death that all things are revealed, and last days of Cassius’s life had been revealed to me.

“Skooma addiction.” I said and rubbed the bald spot of my head. I recoiled in disgust when I realized that I was up to my elbows in fluids and waste, but I kept the contents of my stomach. “By Talos, the man was a skooma addict…”

“How could you tell?” Deerkethus asked. He had stayed there for the entire operation, which said something to his fortitude.

“Yellowing of teeth and nails,” I said, “Continued use shows lesions on the brain, which I’ve found. I’d say the man wasn’t more than a few years out from death judging from the damage that was done.”

“It’s to be expected,” Deerkethus shrugged, “We have a huge skooma problem here in Morrowind. Most of the time the guard just try to keep the addicts from hurting themselves rather than trying to stop it.”

“But Cassius,” I was in disbelief, “Cassius of all people? Such a pious and uptight fellow? And a member of the Blades? I just can’t…”

Deerkethus shrugged again and walked over to the body. He leaned over the table and inspected what parts I hadn’t flayed open or examined. I noticed he kept his clothes a careful distance from the cadaver and he seemed to be doing this more out of keeping himself busy rather than curiosity.

“You don’t know the man like we do in Balmora.” He said finally and looked at me.

“Aurelius was an upstanding citizen of Cyrodil and one of the Emperor’s Blades!” I cried.

“Well here, he was an addict and a troublemaker.” Deerkethus said flatly, “He will not be missed by the people of Morrowind.”

“What do you mean troublemaker?” I said accusingly. I was sure that he was mistaken; sure that he was thinking of another Imperial.

“Aurelius was known for starting fights with the locals and destroying property.” Deerkethus shrugged, “Skooma addiction doesn’t surprise me. The man was a rabble-rouser and a spy. He will not be missed.”

I said nothing. There was nothing to say. I wholeheartedly disagreed with his assessment of Cassius. But there was nothing to gain from an argument here. I continued with my observations.

“I noted a significant amount of burns in the back of his throat and lungs. Obvious signs of impure skooma ingested recently.”

Deerkethus nodded. “We have many sellers here in Morrowind and not all are honorable.”

“On the underside of his right arm I observed a deep gash from the palm of the hand almost down the elbow. It was a clean cut going down deep, striking the bone towards the end, a defensive wound from a knife attack most likely. From the wound I found a shard of metal imbedded in the bone.”

I showed Deerkethus the metal I had found in his arm. It was a glinting shard of iron with a wicked edge to it. From my observations I knew that he would’ve raised his hand in a reflexive blocking motion when the attack came. The blade would’ve easily sliced through unprotected flesh; I knew then from the clean cut and metal shard that the weapon would be a relatively unused blade with a chipped edged. My first clue.

“While this wound was deep and potentially fatal, if he had been seen by a healer quickly he most likely would’ve lived.” I said, presenting the first mystery of this case. “You told me that the witness said that Cassius died within seconds of being found, while a wound like this would’ve taken minutes for him to bleed out. I can only guess that Cassius died from methods other than this wound.”

“Skooma overdose?” He asked. “Perhaps he was attacked while overdosing? Maybe someone took advantage of his state?”

“Unclear,” I answered, “While there’s a possibility, I haven't seen any signs that indicate an overdose. Even with the knife wound, I’m still perplexed at the exact cause of his death and why it came on so suddenly.”

Deerkethus nodded and tapped his chin. He seemed to be in deep contemplation for a minute and I remained quiet, expecting him to say something. Suddenly, without warning, he moved back over to the body and dipped his fingers in the blood resting on the table. With a sickening in my stomach I witnessed the Argonian lick the half-solidified blood from his fingertips. He contemplated for another second before nodding and drying his fingers tips on a handkerchief produced from his pocket with a flourish.

“This man,” He said, “Inquisitor…has been poisoned!”

I struggled to keep my composure. A brave move by my companion, if a bit unnecessary. My alchemy kit was nearby and ready for use, but his way was adequate as well.

“Why did you…wait…Argonians are immune to poison aren’t they?” I asked, realizing the answer. Deerkethus nodded. It was a showy move, but Argonians could stomach it. Another clue.

“Indeed Inquisitor,” He answered, “I said I would be useful to you sera. This particular poison is known in Morrowind; a mixture of nightshade and trama root. Deadly once in the blood stream, with death resulting in less than a minute.”

I knew what this meant. This was supposed to be an open and shut case. Confirm the robbery, find the suspect, and hang the bastard. On the inside I bemoaned my innate sense of duty.

“Poison…what kind of thief uses that sort of poison?” I asked with a sinking feeling in my stomach. I knew the answer, but the courage to say so failed within me.

“Inquisitor,” Deerkethus said slowly. I could see the trepidation in his eyes as well. “That particular poison is used by…the Morag Tong…”

The case had gone deeper. A member of the Blades, attacked with a poisoned weapon and left for dead. So far my only suspect was an assassin’s guild with a penchant for poisoning and the complete legality to do so.

I alone am expected to solve this, and so far my only ally in this was a foppish Argonian slave. Lucky me.

I had hoped this would be simple.