A Murder in Morrowind 10

Beautiful and Deadly

I entered the apartment gifted to me by the city guard at almost half past midnight. It was a ramshackle second story apartment adjacent to the river. I could hear it surging noisily, swelling with the ever constant rain of the past few days. The staccato drumbeat of the rain against the windows drove me half to insanity. I needed a drink.

I groaned and rubbed my neck, thankful for the sensation. Today had been killer. I had just received a letter in answer from my query to Ebonheart. Cassius had been investigating the Tong. Certain elements in Cyrodill had grown suspicious of the assassins and no doubt want to bring them to heel.

The web of lies grew wider with each day, and now my suspicions once again fell on the Tong. I thought of my suspects. Lies within lies within lies. Was there ever an honest man in the sinkhole of Balmora?

The next few days were going to prove to be an annoyance at best, and potentially deadly at worst. If the Morag Tong had killed Cassius then you can bet the Council would have something to say about it. This was a potential international incident. An Imperial Agent, killed by the assassin’s guild of a client state? The Dunmer were a prickly people by nature and not prone to insult; to insinuate that an integral part of their society as the Tong were responsible for this? Scandalous.

I lit a collection of candles on the table and sat down with a sigh of ease. They were dim, poor quality nubs, and they cast thick shadows that seemed darker than ink. The apartment itself was unfurnished aside from the table, a few chairs, a sofa on the near wall, and a bed. The guard hadn’t even provide me any salted pork or beef, let alone any other provisions. I took a bit of hard sausage out of my pack and bit into it; eating it was like chewing a rather tasty leather belt, but I worried at it nonetheless. My life as Inquisitor is a lonely one and I’ve grown accustomed to cold meals by dim candlelight before passing out in a huddle on my bed.

I gripped this morning’s cup of now cold chicory cut with whiskey; it spread through my body with that pleasant warmness that I needed to get me by daily. I picked up a bit of tobacco from my pouch and packed it tightly into my pipe before heading towards the nearby window.

Rain continuously pounded the glass with a sharp rapping; like bony fingers tapping a code I could never hope to understand. Below, despite the downpour, the streets surged with traffic; the ashen-skinned Dunmer with their curious dichotomy of conservative piousness and liberal passions. I spotted whores and priests; gamblers and spendthrifts; peasants and nobles. At once close-minded and open in their nature. I hated them.

Here and there I spotted foreigners such as myself, both slave and freedman. They too were prisoners just like me. Unwelcome strangers in an unwelcoming land. I would be glad to get out of here; yet I knew that I would never truly return home. This is my punishment. I turned away from what I didn’t wish to face anymore, the truth, and that’s when I spotted her. The young Dunmer woman sitting casually on my couch with legs crossed and hands politely in her lap.

She was roughly 5’4 at best. Her pale-grey skin smooth and supple; her eyes were a deep crimson, large and expressive. She was wearing a tight red-leather suit that accentuated her curves. The suit was complete with a bright white insignia on the left breast; a crescent moon. Her fiery molten-copper hair was drawn back into a ponytail, held by a band of patterned silk. I could see the daedric runes of Mephala and Sanguine on it and I knew at once what she was. Morag Tong.

I set my cup down on the windowsill and slowly reached for my sword before realizing that I had set it on the table that now lay between us. I eyed her carefully and considered if I had the speed to grab it before she could react. Perhaps in my younger days, but now I had grown too old to move as quickly. I saw her eyes dart to the sword and back to me and an impish smile crept on her face. She was beautiful and deadly all rolled into one.

“Smart move,” She said with a voice as smooth as silk, “Had you gone for it, I would’ve killed you.”

I relaxed a bit. By that admission, I knew I was safe. If she had meant to kill me she would’ve done so by now. Which could only mean she was here for a different reason.

“Who are you?” I asked. “What are you doing here?”

“I am of the tribe of Masser, though that means nothing to you…” She looked out the window at the rain before looking at me again. “And my name isn’t important. As for what I’m doing here I’ll answer with a question of my own. What are you doing here?”

“Okay, Isn’t Important.” I sighed, “And answering a question with a question is damn impertinent. Typical Elf. I’m here investigating a murder, of which you probably know.”

“Oh we know,” She uncrossed her legs and stood up, “But what are you doing?”

I studied closely her beautiful but impassive face. She crossed over to the table, and leaned on it with her hands resting flat. She looked me dead in the eye without fear.

“I’m investigating suspects, the Morag Tong and others,” I answered truthfully, “In the murder of Cassius Aurelius, Imperial Blade to the Emperor.”

She smiled again and nodded before standing up straight and crossing her arms.

“And why us?” She asked, “The Morag Tong are innocent in this matter.”

“Signs point to you,” I crossed my arms as well, “Poison is your trademark no? And Cassius was investigating you. Something about the Dark Brotherhood?”

Now she made a face and spat before making a curious sign with her hands. How quickly that beautiful face twisted into a vicious snarl.

“The fool thought us one in the same!” She spat, “He convinced himself that we were just a legal form of the Brotherhood. Fool! The Morag Tong are an ancient guild of honorable assassins! The Brotherhood are no more than mad dogs who kill for pleasure!”

“And the Morag Tong don’t?” I pressed.

“We don’t.” She glared at me. “We kill with purpose and honor.”

“And poison. Like the poison found in his body.” I said cloyingly, “So why did you kill Cassius?”

“We didn’t.” She wasn’t thrown off by my attack, “We do not kill Imperial Blades.”

“You had the motive.” I pointed out, “He was investigating you. It’d be in your best interest to kill him. And you certainly have the means.”

“It was unprofitable to us to kill him and it’d be even worse for him had he chosen to pursue us. I say again, we did not kill him.”

“Then who did kill him?” I asked.

She circled around the table until she was on the same side as me and leaned against it with arms still crossed.

“It is unknown even to us.” She admitted bitterly.

“How convenient! Then why come here!?” I raised my voice now, “To toy with me!?”

She locked eyes with me and her crimson eyes bore themselves into my brain. I kept my gaze as long as I could before looking away ashamedly as a boy does from his own mother.

“We know you seek counsel with us Inquisitor,” She said at last, “You do not seek us out. We seek you out. Here.”

She took a scroll of paper from her sleeve and gave it to me. It was rolled tightly and bound with gold thread; the wax seal enclosing it was a dark red and on it I saw the sign of the Tribunal along with the initials F.H. With a letter opener I broke the seal and unrolled it. It read…

I, the honorable Friune Hlera, hearby request the immediate execution of the Imperial Mongrel, Cassius Aurelius. He has defamed my honor and my temple and by the Holy Might of the three that is Almsivi I request that my contract be fulfilled. My offering to the Tong is my own priestly amulet given to me by Almalexia herself. With this precious gift please accept it as an honorable sacrifice and kill the Imperial!

“By Talos…” I crumpled the letter, “Why give this to me? This, all but confirms your murder of him as well as Friune’s complicity! I’ll see him hanged for this!”

“We did not accept the contract muthsera.” She said coolly.

That one took me for a loop. I chocked back the next words that were to come from my mouth and tried to compose myself the best I could. I failed. She chuckled at my discomfort and went on.

“We do not kill Imperial Agents Inquisitor,” She began. “True, we have the motive. He was quickly becoming a thorn in our side; you Imperials consider us a rogue element. Council members are murmuring for our dissolution. Despite all evidence, he was absolutely convinced that we were a front for the Brotherhood. Said we were a blasphemy to the Nine.”

I noted this and kept quiet. She smiled at my discomfort which made me all the more uncomfortable. How long has it been since I was with a woman? My attraction to elves was not strong but this one was particularly beautiful.

“We, in turn, studied him.” She said, “They say Balmora can make even the Gods humble and the Blade himself had his vices. We did not murder him sera because we had no need to. His vices and our knowledge of them kept him in check.”

“Skooma,” I said and tried not to think about it.

“And whores, and drugs, and alcohol,” She listed, “And gambling…and killing slaves.”

“Killing slaves!?” I cried and shook my head. I didn’t want to believe it. “As in more than one?”

“Your friend purchased slaves.” She pointed a finger, “He was sick. And in his sickness there arose something devilish and dark. Your friend Cassius became determined to have us out until we revealed we had this information on him.”

“Now I know you’re having me!” I yelled, “Cassius would never do something like that. K-killing slaves! Why would he do something like that?”

She shrugged and chuckled lowly. I grew angry at her blasé attitude but said nothing. I knew she was faster and more capable than me.

“A storm has been brewing Inquisitor.” She said, “Your friend has been the eye of that dark storm for some time. Perhaps the killings reminded him of why he was alive. Or perhaps he was just insane.”

I nearly cuffed her but instead I focused my rage inwards towards my own investigative skills. Cassius had the motive to take the Morag Tong on. But if they had this information on him then why would they kill him? I concentrated.

“So what are you saying?” I asked, “That you’re not guilty? That it’s Friune who’s the killer?”

“We’re saying that we are not guilty.” She confirmed, “And Friune could be the killer. That’s for you to find out Inquisitor.”

“Well you must forgive me if I’m a bit skeptical. You could be lying after all.”

“That too, is for you to find out Inquisitor.”

“And if I find the Tong are guilty regardless?” I asked.

“Then you’ll have more than a single death to worry about, Inquisitor.” Her eyes flashed and her lips pulled back into a menacing grin.

“Well then,” I ignored that threat, “What proof do you have of your innocence, assassin?”

“I have no proof. I only have another piece of the puzzle for you.” She said and pulled out from her sleeve a small dagger. I flinched and made to jump back but she flipped it playfully in the air and handed it to me hilt first. I took it and looked at it carefully.

“The priest threw this in the gutter last night.” She said, “As you can see it, it is not a blade that we use.”

I could see indeed. This blade was a display piece. Beautiful, but not very functional. The metal was finely worked and would chip at the first serious cut. I could see damage at the end where the blade had been broken. While it fit the general size of Cassius’s wound, I found it hard to pinpoint this as the murder weapon.

“It’s quite clean,” I said carefully.

“The rains cleanses us all.” She shrugged.

“Any proof that this belonged to him?”

“None,” She smiled, “You’ll just have to trust me.”

“So there’s no guarantee that what you say is true.” I asked, “You could be providing all this to me as a feint. A way to throw me off the trail.”

“If we wanted you to stop Inquisitor we could do so at any time.” She shrugged. “But better to work with the Empire than to fight against it. It’s not our way to make waves.”

“No, it wouldn’t be.” I agreed, “A guild of assassin’s would sound better with a bit of legitimacy I suppose.”

“A fact that the departed Blade couldn’t understand.” She stated.

“So what would have me do with this information?” I was annoyed with the game being played. Just when I thought I had a bead on the situation, another piece of the puzzle falls out of place.

“Use it,” She shrugged, “Or don’t. The Tong had lasted for a thousand years and this wouldn’t be the first time a murder was blamed on us. But be warned Inquisitor, that any accusations against the Tong are taken very seriously.”

“So are you trying to tell me that someone else did it?” I raised my voice in anger. “How convenient for you, that as the blame swings toward the Tong that you provide me exactly what I need. Why not give this to me when I needed it?”

“For exactly this situation Inquisitor,” She remained passive, “For when the eye is cast upon us.”

“A diversionary practice.” I said venomously.

“We prefer to call it refocusing.” She said just as venomously.

“So now what?”

“So now Inquisitor, find your killer!” She turned towards the door.

“Not so fast assassin!” I cried and made to block her path. Instead I found that my legs had turned to putty. I tried to move them and instead I gave a feeble kick and I toppled over hard on the floor. As I fell I tried to reach out to catch myself, but my hands too were useless and I knocked over the clay mug that held my chicory. It shattered on the floor and splashed the black concoction everywhere.

The drink! How long had it been sitting out there? Since morning I knew. And the girl was already in my apartment waiting for me! Poison! She must’ve poisoned my drink while waiting for me! I cursed my foolishness, and awaited death. Either the cool kiss of a throat-slitter or the agony of poison as my lungs would fail to draw breath.

“Relax muthsera,” She cooed, “A fatal poison sure and sure. One that mimics a heart attack. No one would question a man of your age dying in such a way; I told you at the beginning that if you tried to draw your blade I would kill you. You don’t know how close you came to death today. I can see though you are a good man, and one that will find the killer. Provided you are pointed in the right direction. So I’ll leave you with a gift.”

She leaned down and cupped my face, tilting it up to look into those crimson red eyes. She pulled me close and pressed her lips against mine, and I felt a coolness creep through me as the antidote went to work.

The Morag Tong could’ve killed me at any time I knew then. I was the sole accuser and the only one with any power to make trouble for them. I remember an old adage my father had told me once. “When a man causes you trouble. Remember; no man means no problem.”

“I’ve enjoyed your company but now I must leave Inquisitor,” The assassin said and gave me a wink as she opened the door. As my heartbeat began to relax and feeling returned to my nerves she added.

“And my name?” A flash of a smile, pearly white. The scent of her perfume. Behind her, framed in the doorway, silhouetting her voluptuous figure, was the full moon shining brightly. She thought for a while, and a devilish grin came over her face with a sudden strike of inspiration. She gave me a toying look and with a voice both seductive and deadly, she whispered, “You can just call me…Moonchild….”