A Murder in Morrowind 5

The Evidence

“Go over it again.”

I slammed my drink down on the bar and motioned for the barkeep to fill it back up. She was an elderly Dunmer woman with wrinkles deep enough to hide a Septim; she scowled at me in the Dunmer way that I have grown accustomed to and filled my cup with a stingy hand. Barely full.

We were in the Eight Plates, one of the most dingiest and sullen of bars I had ever been in. Perfect for the Dunmer. The bar was dimly lit, low burning red and blue lanterns casting ominous shadows; smoke clung to the rafters while shady looking bar patrons sat on cushions and enjoyed hookah pipes. In the corner, a Dunmer woman in a revealing red dress sang a jazzy tune of how Balmora was a city of sin. Her voice competed with the endless pounding rain and occasional thunder that raged outside.

Deerkethus fiddled with his shackles as he sat beside me and looked away deferentially from the Dunmer who largely ignored him. He hadn’t been offered a drink, not that he would ask for one. Despite his position as surrogate constable, he was still a slave in this land and was treated as such.

I could tell that my drinking was annoying him, but I needed a good buzz before even beginning to consider the implications of this murder. The death of a Blade was one thing; the murder of an Imperial Agent via the Morag Tong was cause for an international incident. I wanted to be a hundred percent sure of their involvement before pursing them fully.

“Very well…” He said with a sigh. “The subject was murdered via poison administered to him on the 15th of Frostfall.”

“On his person-” He continued, “-was very little. Clutched in his hands was an amulet of the same type worn by Tribunal Temple priests. Also in his possession was a set of enchanted keys, consistent with those that slave owners use to exert control over their slaves. The keys showed signs of recent use. Nearby was a half-rolled letter with the seal broken, and close to that was a coin-purse with five hundred septims. The bag was opened and the coins littered the alleyway.”

“The letter,” I motioned to him, “Show me the letter again.”

He sniffed at this and from his pocket he pulled out the letter that had been found no more than a meter from the body. It was neatly folded and was written in what undoubtedly was Cassius’s own hand. I noticed the flourish on the S that he was known for. It read…

F.H,

You filth! You think you can swindle me? Give them back or else I’ll gut you from dick to throat you pig! I’ll eat you for breakfast, lunch, and dinner and shit you out! Don’t think that because I’ve bought this Khajit from you that I’ve forgotten! She’ll be an example of what I’m capable of! You have until the end of this week. Give them back!

C.

“There you have it Inquisitor. Again.” He said. “No matter how many times we go over it, there is still nothing to these trinkets. The Tong must be the killer!”

I motioned him to hush as I noticed several nearby patrons of the bar stiffen at the mention of the Tong. After a moments the din of the bar grew again and the sonorous tone of the Dunmer singer rose as she began a low song about long lost days.

“And yet there has been no writ, correct?” I asked plainly.

“No,” Deerkethus narrowed his eyes, “The Writ is to be produced by request from a city guard at the time of the murder. But only if he has witnessed the murder. In cases of assassinations where there are no witnesses, the Tong have five days to produce a signed writ.”

“We don’t have five days!” I whispered harshly.

“Then the obvious question is,” Deerkethus whispered, “Who would want to kill an Imperial Blade?”

“Who wouldn’t in this town?” I asked. “Does it have to be a contract? Couldn’t the Tong have killed him for their own reasons? I don’t even want to think of what could happen if this was a true contract killing.”

“The Tong hold vendettas sera, but why would they be angry with the late Blade?”

“The Blades are the Empire’s eyes and ears,” I answered, “I wouldn’t be surprised if he was watching them. Perhaps he saw something he wasn’t supposed to? I’ll send a letter to Ebonheart to see if Cassius had orders to investigate them.”

“So the Tong are indeed our primary suspect?”

“Perhaps.” I answered and took a drink.

“What about the poison!” He hissed, “That poison is the trademark of the Tong. The sanguine death they call it. A most exquisite pain for the victim I’m told. I say again, the Tong must be the killers!”

“Perhaps,” I answered, “It’s possible. Nevertheless, all avenues must be searched. And to the contrary, I’ve learned a great deal from these bobbles.

He raised his eyes in surprise. I continued.

“I’ll start with the obvious.” I said, “The letter. It’s obvious from this that Cassius had made an enemy of a slaver in this town. This FH, must have some connection to this. A deal gone wrong perhaps? What could the them he refers to be?”

“And the slave?” He asked. “Why would he buy a slave in a dark alleyway instead of the local slavers market in Suran?”

“Argonian, isn’t it obvious?” I said, “He obviously was buying her for a rather clandestine reason.”

“A theory. But consider this Inquisitor,” He showed me his shackles and shook them, “Why would he be in an alley? Slavery is legal here in Morrowind.”

“Yes it is. But not for Imperial Legionnaires!” I answered, “The Council has ruled that members of the Imperial government shall not own slaves in Morrowind.”

“Ah. Indeed that would explain his place of death.” He said. “Our suspect could be a black-market dealer then? One who isn’t afraid of the law?”

“Yes! What’s more, is the letter is directed to the seller of the slave! Therefore, our suspect must be someone in Balmora who either sold or is connected to the selling of a female Khajit slave!"

“Very astute Inquisitor,” He said, “I would’ve gotten that…eventually.”

“Sure you would of.” I said sarcastically. “Another clue is the presence of the coin bag. This was the first clue that indicated that this was no mere robbery. If it was, why would the robber leave the money?”

“Indeed…” Deerkethus narrowed his eyes. I could tell that he was embarrassed that he hadn’t realized this. I wasn’t surprised that a novice would miss this vital fact.

“Therefore, the murder happened for another reason beyond monetary gain. The coins were obviously there to pay for the slave, but the murder happened either before, or after the transaction was complete.”

“Which is your opinion Inquisitor?”

“My best guess is after. Otherwise we’d have found the money on Cassius.”

“And so it goes deeper.” Deerkethus moaned.

“Yes. But now we move onto the next piece of evidence. The amulet. Tell me Deerkethus, why would a devout member of the Imperial Cult possess a Priest’s amulet?”

“That I may answer Inquisitor, for I think you don’t know this one.” He said, “The agent had recently been visiting the temple recently. Our informants tells us that he was thinking of converting.”

That one threw me for a loop. The same commander who made us pray before and after every engagement? The same commander who worshipped the Divines every moment of everyday? Preposterous, I thought, but kept my opinion to myself.

“Perhaps,” I said, “Nevertheless that is a priest’s amulet and not a devotees. Why would he be gripping an amulet of that ranking so tightly?”

“Is it possible,” He said, “That our killer is a member of the Tribunal Temple? Perhaps the assailant dropped this at the moment of attack?”

“Possibly!” I exclaimed, “So our suspects are a slaver, a temple priest and the Morag Tong!”

“A priest?” He shook his head, “I don’t think so Inquisitor.”

“Why not?” I asked.

“I just don’t see it.” He said, “What of the Morag Tong? They have priests and slavers who are part of their order. In this town I suspect, although they keep their membership a secret, even from the guard. They have agents in surprising places.”

“Possible.” I admitted, “But I want to explore all options before angering the Tong. I don’t want to end up like Cassius you know.”

“But this is all speculation Inquisitor! An amulet is no evidence of murder, nor is the selling of a slave, however illegal. What we do know is that he has been poisoned, and where the poison came from. I still say that the Morag Tong be your prime suspect.”

“I agree, the Tong are the easy way out.” I said slowly, “But nothing is ever easy. Eliminate all suspects, and the one remaining is our killer. Learn from me and you may be of use someday. Let’s eliminate the other suspects before involving the Tong.”

He nodded and said nothing. He seemed to be deep in thought in a moment before answering.

“There are a few suspects that fit your descriptions.” He said slowly, “Faerdae Hircite is a Bosmer black market dealer here in Balmora. While not a slaver per se, I’m sure he wouldn’t be above selling one if he had the chance. What’s more is that he has been seen in the company of a Khajit girl for the past few days.”

I nodded and took a drink. The brandy went down my throat hot and bitter. I was hoping against hope that this case would resolve itself soon.

“Friune Hlera is the high priest of the local temple. It would be extremely uncouth to accuse such a holy man but…last week he was seen having a very loud public argument with the victim outside his apartment. They almost came to blows.”

“What was the nature of this argument?”

“Unclear. They separated before the guard arrived and the matter was dropped. Friune is known to be very vocal about his anti-imperial sentiments though and often times will publicly deride any Imperial present at his service.”

The mystery deepens. A Bosmeri slave dealer, a temple priest, an escaped slave, and the Morag Tong. I had my work cut out for me.

“First things first.” I said, “We interview those two. Tomorrow I say we pay a little visit to our suspects.”

He nodded in agreement.

“Next, we need to find the murder weapon and the slave. Find those, and we’re one step closer to identifying the killer.”

“No weapon has been found as of yet sera. As of yet, no report of the slave either. It’s as if they vanished…”

“Impossible.” I answered, “Someone knows what happened that night, and I’m going to find out!”

I polished off my drink and got off the chair. My legs were wobbly and I swooned slightly. The brandy had started to kick in and I could feel the warmth in my gut slosh around as I made my way to the door. Time to sleep the drunk off before continuing tomorrow. As I passed the door I glanced in the direction of the singer, who had just finished another song.

She was beautiful in a Dunmer way, with high cheekbones and raven black hair. Alien and beautiful. She looked at me and gave one wink of her crimson eyes. I blushed a little and stepped out into the rain. It beat hard against me, and I was thankful for its hydrating coolness. It made me think of Cassius. How far had he fallen in this town? What could’ve caused such a radical shift in morals in such an example of how an Imperial should be?

Skooma? Alien religions? Slavery? And what of that ominous threat of “let her be an example?” Never in my life would I think he was capable of writing that. How far into the heart of darkness had my friend fallen?

Worst of all was the contents of the letter, of which I had decided to not discuss with Deerkethus. The violence within was shocking. In our time in the legion, we had committed our share of violence, but all in the name of the Empire. But what could have been stolen from Cassius that he would stoop to that sort of language? That wasn’t the Cassius I knew. Or rather, the Cassius I remembered.

“Talos…what happened to you Cassius?”