A Murder in Morrowind Finale (Part 1)

The Sentencing

The rain had died to a drizzle. Dark clouds clung to the sky like an old maid to her shawl. Occasionally the sun would peek out from a break in clouds, but soon it would be covered by another cloud and a fresh sprinkling. The drops cooled my skin, reddened with exhaustion as I pushed my way through the crowd. They had gathered for the execution.

It was late in the afternoon and soon the hanging of Faerdae Hircite would commence. It must’ve been half of Balmora here, to see the death of a smuggler, thief, and murderer. It was probably the most entertainment they’d get all month. At least until the next execution.

I could hear the droning prayers of the priesthood, praying to the Tribunal for the condemnation of his soul, and a wish of further justice in the afterlife. Dunmer beliefs held that the souls of the guilty would be long tortured before returning, an afterlife of burning forever in a fiery pit as a fitting punishment. A harsh afterlife for a harsh people.

I pushed and shoved, despite the harsh insults and slight battering that was awarded me. The crowd grew ever thicker as I proceeded, eventually creating a wall of bodies that surrounded the gallows. With much pushing and yelling, sharp words and a bit of threatening, I made my way finally to the front of the crowd.

Faerdae Hircite stood on a barrel just below the rope that was firmly tied around his neck. It was evident what kind of “interrogation” he had received. His face was a purplish mass of bruises and cuts; his mouth was a red ruin of jumbled teeth; both knees had been broken, and I knew that he’d be a cripple for the rest of his life. His arms were tied in front of him, and sickeningly I noticed that one hand had been removed. The bloody stump was crudely bandaged and dripping crimson. He looked like he had just eaten.

There, in the square, were the people I was looking for. Not only the crowd, but the local Magistrate Balvyn Hlallu. He was a lordly looking old elf with a trim white beard and adorned in fine robes. He stood off to one side and signed some documents given to him by an assistant. The priest in charge was Friune Hlera; he glared at me in open contempt and continued the low-pitched droning prayer of his people. I noticed too that his wife was there; she was visibly unhappy at being here, and she did her best to avoid looking at me.

The hangman at the gallows was none other than Falvis Halon himself, resplendent in his gaudy clothing that no executioner should wear. I could tell by the glee in his face that he was more than happy to kill Faerdae, no doubt as a message to the slavers and drug dealers in town. He was to be a bloody reminder to those who crossed him. Besides him stood Deerkethus, who stayed silent and looked at me with a curious expression. I nodded him over and he glanced once at his master before coming over.

“I told you to leave friend Gan,” He cautioned, “My master was most upset with you yesterday.”

“As if I care,” I huffed and tried to catch my breath, “After this, he won’t be much of a concern to me.”

“You’re making a mistake Gan.” He looked at me dubiously and shook his head, “I’m warning you, get out of town by tonight. My master is already rethinking his position on you.”

Falvis made a joke to a nearby guard and laughed, his three chins wobbling at that. He had a sword in his hand and used the edge to pick at the wooden planks of the floor. He was just itching to cut the rope. I could hear Friune’s prayer coming to an end. It was almost time.

“Deerkethus, I know our time was short.” I said to him and offered my hand, “I just wanted to let you know that I…enjoyed…our time together. Friend.”

He studied me carefully and clapped me on the shoulder. I gave him a brief hug and smiled. He was probably the truest person I had met in Morrowind. I would be sad to never see him again.

“Faerdae Hircite-“The magistrate cleared his throat and began but I interjected.

“Wait!!!” I roared. The crowed hushed themselves and I heard a few groans. They had been waiting quite a while. Falvis glared daggers at me and Friune whispered scarcely hidden curses under his breath.. Faerdae for his part stood and shook like a leaf. He looked as if he had just lost fifty pounds.

“I have something to say, people of Balmora!!!” I yelled for all to hear. “I know who the murderer in your midst is!”

“Save your words outlander,” The magistrate sighed, “He’s before your eyes if you’d only open them.”

“A moment your honor,” I ignored the laughter from the crowd, “To plead my case.”

Falvis chucked audibly and began to speak, but was cut off by a glare from the magistrate.

“Speak then outlander,” He said, “The Empire has allowed you here for this case. Speak and then begone. Let it be said that I followed the rules of the Empire to the extent expected of myself.”

“Thank you, your honor.” I nodded to him. The Dunmer would follow Imperial law and hear me out, but it was my job to make them actually listen. I knew also that it was in my best interest to be out by sundown. Already I could feel my own death being formulated by more than one soul here.

“I will begin as all good investigations begin.” I said aloud to the crowd gathered in a circle around us. “I will eliminate all the suspects until one is left. That one, people of Balmora, is your killer! I will start with Faerdae himself!”

“First I will begin by noting the evidence.” I said, “Primarily, the letter that was found nearby the victim. Addressed to an F.H. No doubt many of you, from the contents of the letter, have determined that this is evidence of his guilt. But I say otherwise!”

From the crowd came groans and growls, threats and insults. Prevalent was the urging to explain myself.

“The letter my friends was open.” I said, “Why on Nirn would Faerade open the letter when Cassius was standing right there? Why open it at all? And why would Cassius’s give him a letter if it was intended for him? Why not tell him then and there!?”

“Absurd outlander!” Falvis yelled out, “He had the motive and he had the weapon. What difference does an open letter make?”

“Not only that!” I yelled over his objection, “But the wound and the weapon is evidence in and of itself. I observed that Faerdae was left handed during our interactions. But the direction of the wound indicated an attack from the right side!”

“He is guilty!!!” Falvis yelled, spittle flying from his gibbering lips. “He has confessed! By his own admission, he cannot account for where he was between seven and nine, which leaves him plenty of time for the murder!”

“Has he?” I motioned to the crowd. Now was the time to make my move. Faerdae had no doubt been ashamed of his sexual preference, as many are, and tried his best to hide his lover’s identity; it had been difficult to locate his lover, and harder still to convince him to reveal himself. He had all but denied me until I mentioned that I could free Faerdae with his help. Then, the boy had happily obliged.

From the crowd a lithe young man stepped out. He was beautiful in a youthful sense, with a boy’s flat belly and curly dark locks. His skin was supple and plump and he wore only a hint of makeup to enhance his looks. With longer hair I would have no doubt that he was a woman. He was a Dunmer of no more than twenty and he was Falvis’s Halon’s own son.

Yes, I had been most Inquisitive, as my title suggests.

He would listen to this young man’s words, for what man could deny his own son? Faerdae had refused to acknowledge his lover’s identity purely out of a desire to protect the boy from his father’s wrath. Even when it meant his own death. It was that realization of his reluctance that had given me my first clue into the boy’s identity. After that, it was merely a case of finding the right witnesses and tracing his recent movements.

“Speak friend.” I motioned. The boy looked at every face there haughtily, as if a lord scolding his serfs. Despite his sexual dispensation, he acted as if he was statelier than Vivec himself.

“Faerdae was with me that night Falvis, Father...” He called out with a voice of gentle silk. “As many other nights.”

“Narys…” Falvis gasped lowly and growled. I grinned at his discomfort. Already my plan was falling into place.

Narys went over to the barrel that Faerdae stood upon and helped him down; Faerdae cried audibly and stumbled into a heap on the ground. I gave them time to exit gracefully. It was the least I could do as repayment for his torture. I was no fan of Faerdae, but no one deserves what he had gone through. Falvis glared death at me, and I answered with a smile.

“Narys,” Falvis called out with suppressed anger, “You can’t take him, he’s gui-“

“I can do anything I want father!” Narys snapped, “I believe the Outlander has provided more than enough proof he’s innocent?” Balvyn Hlallu gave Falvis a long stare at that. Falvis grumbled and waved his son and his lover on with his sword. At their departure the magistrate nodded at me to continue.

“Now, onto our next suspect.” I said, “Many of you know of my investigation into the High Priest...”