A Murder in Morrowind 12

The House of Earthly Delights

Well I’ve gotten myself in it once again. I’d like to say this is the first time I’ve been in this situation, but that would be a lie. This isn’t the first time and it wouldn’t be the last.

I determined by the amount of time and the waning of the light that I had travelled for at least two or three hours. The entire ride was silent; the rattling of the carriage as it was pulled by native guars was the only noise I could hear, as my captors remained silent. Not even Deerkethus spoke when I called out his name, though I knew he was there by the sound of his raspy breathing. Occasionally the carriage would pitch to one side whenever we hit a bump or pit in the road and his clawed hand would grasp my bindings. Besides my own intermittent cries of inquisition, nothing other than the drops of rains broke the silence.

It was well into the evening when we finally stopped. I could hear the cries of townspeople and merchants and animals. It was a packed town, but not of Balmora’s size judging from the din. The city smells of wood smoke, Guar-shit and unwashed bodies and cooking blended in the greater scent of brackish marsh-water and disappointment. I was roughly handled and, judging from the extreme change in light, shoved inside. I smelled incense and pipe-smoke, along with perfume and good food. I heard music, all horns and piano, with a sultry woman’s voice singing of Daggerfall days and Nibenese nights.

“For Almsivi’s sake!” A voice cried out, “Take the bag off his head, you swits!”

The bag was indeed torn from my head and I blinked several times as my eyes adjusted to the increased light. I was inside one of the most unlikely places in Morrowind. As I’ve explained before, the Dunmer are of a curious dichotomy. At one moment an individual could be hard at prayer in reverence to the Tribunal; at the next, they could drinking it up and whoring with the best of them. This was such a place.

On Vvardenfell I have seen many wonders. Vivec; a city built in reverence to a living god. Piousness was well valued there and I half-expected every Dunmer there to be on a quest for Sainthood. The Ghostgate; an impressive structure constructed from pure magic. Tel Branora; a Telvanni keep grown from the soil itself. And then there was Suran. It was a town I had heard of, but for nothing good. Suran made Balmora look like the Temple of Nine Divines by comparison. Of all the brigands, vipers and evildoers, none so ever found a home as close to their heart as Suran.

I was sitting in a large auditorium dimly lit with blue, red, and gold lanterns. The air was lightly scented with herbs, incense, and perfume. A beautiful Imperial woman on a raised stage sang a dour tune. She wore a slender purple dress with sequins; the dress was cut in such a way that left one breast exposed. Patrons around me occupied circular tables set below the stage; I recognized several high ranking Hlallu retainers and prominent slavers, as well as the more duplicitous members of the Tribunal Temple. Slaves wearing little more than their chains circled around and offered drinks to the patrons here.

Across from me sat the fattest Dark Elf I had ever seen. His face had a least three chins that wobbled as he chewed. One pudgy hand gripped a cooked snail and with drooling relish he popped it into his mouth with a crunch. He wore extravagant clothing, colorful and majestic in a suit sewn with a net of sapphires and rubies. His balding black hair was slicked back around the sides and his dark grey skin was splotchy with drink. He was accompanied by two others Dark Elves I judged of ill-repute. These two eyed me with obvious contempt, and I spied one circling the pommel of his dagger with his forefinger.

“Falvis Halon, serjo!” The fat one cried and offered his hand, “A pleasure to meet you at last!”

“Gannicus Varro,” I shook his hand, “At last we finally meet. I’d like to know why I was brought here. And what is this place exactly?”

“My apologies good sir!” He chuckled, “My man Deerkethus has always taken my orders a little too seriously. I asked that you be brought here. The bag was his doing!”

I looked at Deerkethus who stared straight ahead impassively. I couldn’t help but notice the hand he kept on his sword. To shed blood was suicide for him, but I reminded myself that he was a slave. No matter our friendship, his loyalty was to his master. I was sure that he’d shed blood even for him.

“Think nothing of it.” I said and turned back towards Falvis, “I should say I’m used to it.”

“The life of an Imperial Inquisitor I suppose!” He guffawed and slapped a knee. The others did not laugh. One sneered and drew his thumb across his throat. Falvis took notice of this and chuckled lightly.

“My cousins are Commona Tong,” He said, “A little social club here in Morrowind that doesn’t uh…take kindly to foreigners. Especially ones who carry out the Empire’s justice.”

I had heard of them and knew they were a little more than just a “social club.” I also knew them to be proficient slavers and patrons of all things criminal. My sword hand twitched whenever I looked at them.

“This here is the House of Earthly Delights.” He indicated to the room around us, “A gathering place for those of Morrowind who enjoy the…sweeter pleasures that our station can bring us.”

He eyed a young serving girl wearing less than nothing and licked his lips hungrily. I knew instantly that this was an Elf I despised. By station he no doubt meant the social system that guaranteed his place at the top of the pyramid and slaves at the bottom. This was an elf who abused every single power given to him.

“You’ve been making waves serjo.” Falvis offered me a tall glass of flin, “While I thank you for your service, I’m glad to tell you that we have our man. Drink?”

“Oh?” I said and shook my head, “No thanks to the drink. I’d like to keep my head clear.”

“Perfectly fine good sir,” He shrugged. “And yes, we have our killer. Faerdae Hircite confessed earlier this morning.”

“You can’t be serious.” I said skeptically, “The same Elf who so adamantly insisted he was innocent?”

“One in the same.” He grinned, “After our interrogation he confessed entirely.”

I knew what interrogation meant here. I shook my head and disagreed.

“I’ve been privy to some new information sir,” I said, “Friune Hlera’s been hiding something from us. I suggest we-“

“-Say no more serjo,” He held up a hand and grinned, “Hlera has been exonerated after my own thorough investigation. Relax Inquisitor, the case has been solved.”

“Is that a fact?” I said incredulously, “How could you have investigated him in such a time?”

“He is a priest of the utmost standing. I am positive of his innocence. There is no concern Inquisitor,” His voice grew harder, “Rest assured that the person responsible for this murder will face justice.”

“No, I don’t believe you have any concern about this, Falvis,” I said angrily, “Hircite is a suspect yes, but there’s something more to this than I can see. Suspects not yet entirely cleared of suspicion. I still need time to complete-“

“It’s done Inquisitor,” He said. His voice had grown hard and all sense of joyfulness had disappeared. I noticed his companion had drawn his dagger by a bit. “Faerdae has confessed and tomorrow night he will be hanged.”

“Deerkethus!” I cried to him, “Tell him. The Tong, the Priest! There are still more suspects to eliminate!”

Deerkethus remained silent. Falvis Halon laughed and clapped Deerkethus on the shoulder.

“Deerkethus is my slave Inquisitor,” He said, “He’d do anything I tell him. He and I are as close as one can be for master and slave.”

“Well aren’t you too awfully close.” I growled, “Strange for a master and slave.”

“We’re more than that serjo.” He grinned, “Deerkethus was my present as a child, years ago. We’ve grown up practically as brothers. He’s grown up in my service and has never known any life but one that is in service to my own.”

“Strange as I said.” I narrowed my eyes, “He’s been in your service for a long time eh?”

“True,” He said and took a long draught from his drink. “Deerkethus has never known the dung heap that is Argonia. From birth he has never left my side. I’d dare say he’s more Dunmer at this point than Argonian.”

“If he’s never left your side, then perhaps he can tell me where you were on the 15th of Frostfall?” I asked innocently. Falvis was more than eager to have this case closed. Was it because he wanted to clear Friune? Or was it something more? Looking at this elven scum, my knees ached and the back of my neck itched and my instincts screamed at me. There was more to this. I was bound on this course and so I pressed my verbal attack.

“I’ve heard that you were on business.” I noticed his trepidation when I attacked. He considered for a moment and turned towards his companions.

“I was here the whole night, wasn’t I boys? We were all here. I am invested in this place and occasionally I must attend the House’s needs.”

They both nodded and said nothing. I studied their faces for any sign of weakness, but he remained passive.

I was taken aback. I knew that I couldn’t trust either of them, but I had no doubt on whose side the magistrate would take. I tried a different tactic.

“You’re very well off aren’t you?” I said. Numbers began to compile in my head, and I took stock of everything I knew about Falvis. “Expensive clothes, large investments, and a sizeable bank amount.”

“You know of my bank amount?” He said sharply. His companion drew his dagger a bit more.

“Inquisitor is the name Falvis.” I said, “By right of the Empire, I am thus Inquisitive. Over a hundred thousand drakes is no small amount.”

“Tread carefully Inquisitor,” He said with all seriousness. “I’ve hanged men for lesser transgressions.”

He took a snail in one hand and crushed it, the juices running out his clenched fist and drenching the floor. Deerkethus promptly bent over and wiped it up with a handkerchief.

“I’m sure.” I said, “You dispense justice as you see fit yes?”

“As is my right.” He said with dignity and chewed on another snail.

“Indeed, you are the watcher and administer of justice. Judge, jury, and executioner.” I said.

“You’re beginning to understand Imperial.” He drew his own fat finger against his throat.

“Then who judges you?”

“No one save the magistrate! And in that, Azura has blessed me Inquisitor. He will never find fault in me.” He sneered and chewed a snail with relish.

“Not even for selling slaves to Imperials?”

He nearly chocked on this. He coughed several times and Deerkethus slapped him on the back before Falvis expelled the half-chewed snail. He wiped his moist lips after this coughing fit and glared at me.

“What. Did. You. Say?” He spaced every word out with audible danger.

“Don’t you dare deny it!” My trap worked. In admitting his immunity he had confirmed my suspicion.

“Why would you think such a thing?” He roared.

“You’re a slaver. You bought the Khajit cheaply from Hircite and sold her for a profit to Cassius in turn. Your immunity ensures you can sell to Imperials with impunity, and you made a tidy sum from the difference.”

“You have no proof! What would lead you to this conclusion serjo?” He spat.

“Simply put,” I continued, “The money. The clothes, the investments, and all the other signs of wealth? You never could afford such on a constable’s salary.”

“How dare yo-“ He started, but I interjected.

“-Also, by witnesses at the Southside Cornerclub, the Khajit child didn’t have any enchanted shackles while in Faerdae’s possession. Only rudimentary rope bindings. The metallic shackles on her were brand new and quite expensive. Only the richest of masters could afford that.”

“Outlandish!!!” He yelled.

“Not only that, is the record of Faerdae’s money. Faerdae claimed to have exchanged the slave for three hundred septims. Why then was there a bag amounting to five hundred found nearby?”

“Now see here!” He cried, but I continued.

“Most telling, was the nature of the enchantment on the shackles itself. From my examinations I determined that this particular style of enchantment was cast with a rudimentary understanding of enchantments. The enchanter would’ve made heavy use of expensive Void Salts in order to compensate for their lack of skill. Void Salts in heavy concentrations, are caustic and can cause burns. May I, serjo, perhaps see your hands?”

Falvis turned a very dark shade of grey, almost black, and I heard his companions growl a sharp order of Dunmer swear words. I didn’t need to see his palms. I had already felt the burns when we shook hands.

“Bastard!” Falvis chocked out and downed his drink quickly. “You think you’re so clever.”

“More clever than you.” I stood up. “Falvis Halon, by order of the Empire I-“

Deerkethus was behind me in an instant and with a strong grip he grabbed me by the shoulder and forced me down into my seat.

“You are smart Inquisitor.” Falvis fumed, “And stupid at the same time. This means nothing. Do you really think you could arrest me?”

“I do and I will-” I started but he cut me off quickly.

“-You can’t and you won’t!” He barked, “You forget yourself Imperial. I know why you’re here. I know what you did. Do you really think you have any power?”

“I…” I began to talk but stopped myself short. I had nothing to say.

“You’re investigating as a formality only Imperial.” He grinned, “The Empire wants a throat to slit and by Almsivi they will get one! Anything you say won’t matter because you know why? They. Don’t. Care. About. You.”

I said nothing. There was nothing to say. Something inside me told me what he said was the truth, but I didn’t want to believe it.

“You could have caught me red-handed and I still wouldn’t see a day in prison! Get this straight Inquisitor, I am the authority in the place. I am justice. You are a lowly functionary, better left forgotten, who is here to prevent Aurelius’s family from throwing a fit. You are useless. You are meant to be forgotten!”

“So…” I wouldn’t let him shake me, “Is that a confession? Did you kill him?”

“Fuck off. And no, I didn’t kill him. And if I did, I wouldn’t tell you. Now Outlander, be gone with you.” He waved me off with one hand and turned his attention back to the stage, where the singer was now leaving.

“One more thing before I go. What exactly was your connection to Cassius?”

“Oh?” Falvis laughed, “As I’ve said serjo, I alone move the scales that balances justice and the baser instincts of the city. Cassius was but one of the many weights on that scale.”

“Is that a fact? Did he ever…purchase other slaves from you?” I said, trying to gather as much information as possible. I found myself again at a disadvantage; my only recourse was to find and seek out as much on Falvis as I could.

“He and I often dealt together.” Falvis bid his companion to stay his blade, “I looked the other way on his…proclivities…so long as he provided me of something of…value.”

“Proclivities?” I asked hesitantly, knowing the answer.

Falvis shrugged and smiled toothily. I wasn’t sure of the truth, but something told me that now he wasn’t lying.

“They were slaves.” He laughed and held up his arms as if to say “What can you do.”

I gulped and shook my head. So it was true. Cassius had taken to buying and killing slaves. Deerkethus had mentioned that slave disappearances had been on the rise as of late. I had shaken it off as just an uptick in Twin Lamps activities. But my friend engaging in serial killing…

“W-Why would he do such a thing?” I shook my head.

“Skooma was just one of his many vices friend.” Falvis said maliciously, “He often complained of headaches and voices. Continued abuse, especially of impure skooma, has been known to lead to psychosis.”

I eyed him suspiciously. One thing I’ve learned in my long life is that everybody lies. And judging from this elf and his appearance and activities, he had made a long and wealthy career out of lies. There was still something about him that was bothering me, but without any context or evidence I was at a dead end.

“Surely you’re not thinking of accusing me of any wrongdoing in this matter, Inquistior.” His voiced dripped venom like a snakes. “I can assure you that the magistrate will never believe you.”

“Perhaps not you.” I replied, “Your companions perhaps? They seem ready and eager to kill me as it is.”

“Ignore them.” He laughed without humor, “Besides, they were here with me and Deerkethus. As you can see, I have witnesses and an airtight alibi serjo.”

“Indeed,” I agreed dejectedly. I had hit a dead end. There was no way for me to prove or disprove his alibi. I knew better than to trust Deerkethus or the Commona Tong as witnesses, but I had no choice. “As for me? Am I allowed to leave or are you…”

“You have my leave.”

I was most likely more of a hassle to kill than to leave to my own devices. He waved me off as one would a bug or a subject. No doubt he was used to being treated as a lord here in this place, “Unless you like to stay? We have quite the show coming up.”

I turned towards the stage and my eyes nearly bulged out my head. Two Khajit wore slave collars and shackles. Both were completely nude; I saw bruises and whip marks on their backs. Both were completely shattered by the looks of their scared expressions and milquetoast demeanor. I looked at Falvis horrified and he grinned a basilisk grin and nodded back towards the stage.

With a harsh bark of native Dunmer the two began to grapple for a bit of food that had been thrown on the stage. A look of confusion overcame their face, bewilderment, which dissolved into a grim realization of what would come next. Hunger filled their eyes, and I saw that their torture and enslavement had bled away the last of their sanity. They knew what must happen if they were to eat. To survive.

A large crowd of Dunmer slavers and nobles hollered and clamored about, larger and happier than I have ever seen a group of Dunmer in my life. The Khajit roared bloody murder as they slashed as each other with their claws, eager for their first bite of food in days. I glared at Falvis who clapped his hands and downed his drink with zest.

I had a mind to report him to my officials, but somehow I knew that there would never be a reply. I instead turned my head down towards the floor and tried to ignore the bitter smell of blood and the cheers from the crowd as I headed towards the door.

There was nothing left to do.