Challenges

Caius sat quietly on the other side of his cramped, single room apartment, trying to read the various notes he’d taken on Saber’s mission up to this point. He had to admit that despite his misgivings of this Dark Elf thief, Saber had done remarkably well in acquiring the needed information for this mission. He even showed a level of resourcefulness the spymaster hadn’t considered. Perhaps Eiryn is right about him after all, he thought to himself.
Eiryn slept restlessly in the tiny cot near him. Now and then her expression pinched from bad dreams. Her father felt torn between waking her to shake the bad visions away, and letting her rest. News of Saber’s condition affected her more than he could realize. He’d suspected of their relationship, but not its extent, and this troubled him greatly.
Caius looked over at her face, with hands folded under her cheek as she curled to her side on the bed. She looked so much younger, and memories of his daughter at the age of twelve bore to mind. She was willful even then, had always been come to think of it, just like her mother. Wasn’t that the very reason he was attracted to Joslin?
Her mother, Joslin Acques, was a commoner but there was nothing common about her. Eiryn got her looks, her strong will, even her fiery temper. Joslin baulked at the commoner’s life, joining the mages’ guild to learn alchemy and spellcraft. When she grew big with child however, she opted to remain in their modest home in Caldera, reverting to a ‘safer’ life for the sake of her child.
Caius had wanted to take her from all that, but they both knew the dangers of his work. He’d been a Blade Apprentice back then, had his Skooma habit, and already knew the threat of having a family would bring him. Joslin agreed to keep their marriage secret, and when she bore him a daughter, swore Eiryn would never find out. Caius only now wondered why he hadn’t given up the Blades, and focused on his family instead.
Neither Joslin nor Caius had guessed how resourceful their daughter was. Not believing stories they told her of a father killed in the Imperial Legion. Eiryn was sharp witted for a twelve year old, and discovered her father for who he was, and even what he did. Caius was no ‘uncle’ but the very man sired her. She demanded he take his role seriously. She kept the secret as well, just as long as Caius continually returned to the small house they kept near Gnisis and played his role as father.
When she came of age, Joslin suddenly died from illness, Eiryn joined the scouting guild. Caius knew keeping busy helped with the loss of her mother. But when she began pestering to join the Blades however, he refused, and continually refused for years. Only when she reached her twenties did he finally break, and let her in the exclusive guild.
He’d regretted that decision up to now. He simply couldn’t resist the need to protect her, and here Saber- that damned thief- had done what he should have been doing all along; believing in her. The ring, the training, and his having her join him to the Ashlands attested to that. The anger Saber showed him was also very clear how much he cared for Eiryn.
Damn him. The spymaster clenched fists. Of all the wretches in the world for her to fall for, it had to be this elf! A trained assassin! It mattered not that he never officially joined a guild, not to the spymaster. No, he knew well the stories of Nekros. That monster no doubt trained Saber in the very methods he’d use on his victims. Poisons, torture, horrible ‘accidents’ for victims, and many suspected it was due to Nekros’ perverse enjoyment of inflicting pain. The thought of the dark assassin and what life the Dunmer had before his death was always haunting him.
No one even knew Nekros had an apprentice until his death. Word on the street started filtering back stories of a young boy he’d kept, called Feryl. The name could’ve been an insult or randy nickname. It was something meaning ‘street dog’ or ‘fierce’, usually referring to the feral dogs that lived in the slums. Caius somehow suspected something darker, more ominous in its meaning. Nekros was a monster, and perhaps considered the ‘elfling’ as a pet than apprentice. That being assumed, as the boy grew older, Caius considered other tortures the poor boy had faced at the hands of his master.
The Blades in the Imperial city had a hard enough time trying to find the boy who seemed to simply disappear after Nekros’ body was found, no doubt into the undercurrent of society. Now and then rumors spread about a dark elf thief, but somehow he managed to stay clear of the city guard. Speculation on this very same ‘elfing’ also started to stir up questions if he could’ve been the very one who killed Nekros. Who else could’ve gotten close enough, let alone be able to gain the opportunity to kill a master assassin other than his very own apprentice?
He was only twelve…Caius shuddered, remembering Eiryn at that age. At that age, she was trying so hard to be taken seriously but yet so innocently naïve of the world then. And Saber had already killed a man, slitting his throat open from ear to ear. What sort of man grows from a childhood such as that? What demons stirred within the Dark Elf who lived with death and pain every day of his young life? Certainly there was innocence lost, but how could he have survived with any amount of compassion with a life like that?
And he wants my daughter!
Something akin to fear, anger, or just plain horror made Caius clench fists. Did Saber simply show a facade of being a caring individual, leading Eiryn to uncertain doom? Perhaps Saber didn’t even know himself what manner of evil that could be hiding within him? That being said, what of this mission? We’re relying on this Dark Elf who was a criminal, but from what Saber had told him of that Ilunibi priest, Gares, had addressed him as Lord Neverar himself! Dagoth Ur knew of Saber, discovered this somehow from his lair in Red Mountain. Up until recently, the spymaster had thought the Emperor wished to setup a False Incarnate, even with Vivec’s blessing! Now, the plot was twisting into something else entirely. What cruel joke did the gods play now?
Saber was to be their hope? Now infected with Corpus…now what? What was to become of Saber and their plans?-
A familiar knock tapped lightly on the door. Almost immediately, Caius knew it was Nine-Toes, a member of the Blades and the only Argonion that knocked so softly.
Opting to speak outside of his single room apartment, Caius opened the door to see the reptilian Blade, patiently waiting entrance. Nine Toes for all his fierceness was an unassuming creature. Soft golden eyes peered back unblinking, waiting with limitless patience to be invited inside. “Eiryn is sleeping.” Caius whispered, “What news do you bring?”
Nine-Toes snaked out a forked tongue nervously, shuffled clawed feet in the dirt. His green and yellow scales shimmered in the sunlight as the head turned to look around the empty street for anyone who might be listening.
“A package, Muthsssera…” The Argonion hissed, giving the proper respect. Nine-toes handed him a sealed document, imprinted with the gold and red insignia of the Emperor.
Caius frowned, unsettled and curious to what the Emperor demanded of him now. Here of late, many began questioning the sanity of the dear king. Questions of succession had also come to fruition, and whispered of approaching civil war was at hand. Some families were moving elsewhere in anticipation of the hard times ahead. Likes rats leaving a sinking ship…
“And sssomeone is asssking around town about Ssssaber.” The Blade operative said softly. “I think thissss must be important and you’d want to know.”
”Who is?” Caius asked, frowning.
“Another Imperial.” Nine-Toes answered, “A sssstranger who arrived three daysss ago from Ssseyda Neen. I believe he just came off the ssship.”
”Where is he now?”
“He’sss ssstaying at the Council Club.” Nine-Toes continued. “I believe he’sss a sssswordsman. He won’t sssay his reasonsss either.”
“That is suspicious.” Caius commented, scratching his chin.
The Argonion nodded. “That wasss my thinking.”
”Go to Seyda Neen, and see if the Excise Office will give you anything on this man.” Caius ordered. “We need to know who and more importantly what he is. Report back as soon as you can.”
“And the man? What if he dissscovers where Ssssaber issss?” Nine Toes asked.
“Saber is unreachable at this time.” Caius told him. “He’s not even in Balmora, and I doubt anyone can possibly know where he is right now.” At this point, it hardly even mattered if anyone knew, unless Divayth Fyr had found that cure for Corpus. Even then, that seemed unlikely. “I still want to know who this man is that seeks him.”
”Underssstood.” Nine-Toes agreed.

Eiryn was sitting up in the bed, when Caius came back inside. She felt horrible, as if something essential was ripped from her soul. Hair was disheveled, and her eyes were bleak. “I’ll find out who this Imperial is.” She told him, indicating she’d heard the whole thing.
The spymaster’s first reaction was to refuse, to give her something else to do, but in light of her state of mind, such a suggestion might send her into a rage. He also considered she might need something to keep herself occupied. It’s better than her moping about in the apartment. “Do you think you can find out, without giving away who and what you are?”
“I’m simply a woman interested in learning more of a stranger, a swordsman who came into town.” She smiled, but no humor touched her eyes. “If he asks me of Saber, I’ll ask him why he needs to know.”
Caius had considered before if perhaps a woman’s wiles could be useful to the Blades, but so far, the only women members of the guild were outraged at even using such …talents. “Do what you can.” The spymaster said, forcing himself to simply have faith in her. Wasn’t that what Saber had done for her?
Unable to admit it to himself, Caius strongly suspected it was Eiryn that became the Dunmer’s reason in returning to Balmora, and not his hopes to gain a profit as he had said. This struck a resounding chord in the old spymaster, and giving him even more to think about.

*********************
Later that day, Eiryn found herself standing outside of Millie’s Clothier Boutique on the west side of the city. This end of town was one might find the noble houses and the merchant’s row. A narrow river split Balmora, and though the waterway was shallow enough to walk across in most places, it divided Balmora to the east and west side. The east side harboed the nobles’ manors, and fine merchants, then you had the west side where you’d find the more questionable establishments such as the South Wall, and the poor lived in their box-like homes.
Her mood was still shadowed with the news of Saber’s affliction, but she refocused her mind, directed her attention to the task at hand. She didn’t want to think of his dying, or his suffering. Now there was this added intrique of someone seeking Saber out in Morrowind. There was more of a general interest of this swordsman seeking out the thief. Was it revenge? Did someone pay this man to come to Morrowind? Another player in this game perhaps?
Millie Hastien was one of the more renowned clothiers in all of Balmora, carrying the fine gowns and robes of the elite to the more standard fare of basic shirts and pants for the commoner. Upon seeing Eiryn, she looked up from her ledger and beamed a pleasant smile.
“Ah, Eiryn. So good to see you today!” She said cheerfully, her warm brown eyes sparkled with genuine friendliness. She was an aging woman who’d never lost her flair for fashion. The brown tresses were drawn up in a tight bun made her wide face more round and robust. The eyes of amber were crinkled with age, but had lost nothing of their sparkle, or the thin lips their humor. “Come to see the new guar gloves that’s come in from the Ascadian Isles?”
Eiryn smiled back, toying with the small bag of coin Caius had given her.
“Actually, I’m looking for something a bit more refined.” She told the woman. She’d keep a cheerful disposition, unable to share with Millie the cause of her dark mood.
Millie clapped her hands and giggled. “Oh by the Light of Azura, you’ve finally come to your senses and dress like a lady!”
Eiryn chuckled, knowing even before she arrived to the shop, this was the reception she’d get. Her reputation for being practical and wearing clothes for purpose not for vanity’s sake bothered the shopkeeper to no end. “I trust you can help me find something appealing?”
“You insult me, dear girl!” Millie sniffed in feigned indignation. “You tell me what you have in mind, and we’ll get the best in the store at a fair price.”
It was a private joke between the two women that Millie would sell clothes half price just as long as Eiryn dressed more in feminine attire. The young scout glanced at the folded clothing upon the shelves, the line of shoes on the floor.
“Something that would make a man look twice, but nothing too aggressive.”
Mille eyed the younger woman suspiciously. “Do you have a particular man in mind?” She asked, curiosity getting the better of her. “Or is this for hunting?”
Eiryn knew her meaning. Many women used their wiles to hunt for a husband, using curving lines and fluttering lashes as bait. The clothier often teased the scout in finding herself a fine man and settled down ‘somewhere nice’. The idea of an adventurer never appealed to Millie, and she never could understand why so many women took up such a dangerous life.
“Just for fun.” Eiryn grinned. She wasn’t about to reveal anything that might be used against her later.
Tapping a long finger alongside her cheek, Millie appraised Eiryn in her drab clothing of simple tunic and trousers, and matching practical braid. “You’d look good in greens.” She commented out loud, stepping around to take measurements just by looking alone. “Though with your coloring, even deep reds would bring out the color in your cheeks. And your hair-“
“I’ll deal with the hair after the clothes, thank you.” Eiryn warned her off. If she so much as suggests one more time that I cut it…
Throwing her hands up, the tailor laughed. “Well I think I have just the thing. It’s a gown, not exactly a low neckline, but it accentuates the female form.” She said, turning to a locked closet she stores some of her shipments in. From there she pulled out a lovely gown of a deep burgundy red with panels of patterned green brocade. Around the neckline and waist a lovely gold embossed belt fastened to snug around hips, and matching gold ribbon donned criss cross across the waist.
As she’d said, the neckline was modest, but the ribbon and snug middle certainly would pique any man’s interest. Sleeves were long, with cuffs of the same matching green against the red velvet, and every hem lined in gold ribbon or embroidery.
Wow…Eiryn thought, fingering the velvety texture. The green panels were of silk brocade. “How much?” Surely she didn’t have enough gold in the small bag to afford such finery.
“For you?” Millie laughed. “And to get you into a dress finally? We will work out the price, and I’ll throw in the shoes for free.”
The gown was elegant enough she could even wear when visiting any one of the Great Houses in, so perhaps just this once she’d treat herself to some decent clothes. The gods knew that she could use a respectable gown now and then when dealing with the wizards or House officials. Saber’s words on dressing up to impress the aristocracy came to mind, making a twinge of sorrow touch her heart.
Ever the shrewd woman, Millie took notice. “What is it dear? Do you not like it?”
“Oh no…its not that.” Eiryn forced herself to smile. “Just thinking about what a friend told me once, about clothes making the man…or woman.”
Millie giggled. “Indeed, that’s true enough. With this gown, you’ll have any number of men eating out of your hand.” She shook out the fabric and held it up against Eiryn’s shorter frame. “I’ll have to take in the hem a bit, perhaps tighten the middle. You have such a slim waist!”
“Oh ok. I’ll take it.” Eiryn laughed, thinking now the woman could stop teasing her so much about her appearance! “And then you can give me some pointers on what to do with my hair-“ She narrowed her eyes and turned suddenly stern. “And no, I will NOT cut it!”

**********************
An hour later, Eiryn stood before a long mirror gazing at a woman she barely recognized. “Wow…” She breathed.
‘Wow’ was right. The gown fit her perfectly, showing off her slim frame and ‘curves’ as Millie so delicately put it. Although not exactly endowed in the chest region, the gown’s criss-cross of embroidered ribbons made up for anything lacking by using the color and cloth to bring out the best of a woman’s attributes, no matter how she was made. The clothier also managed to sweep up her length of hair into a coif that released only enough hair to dangle in curving waves that brought out the shape of her face. Hairpins of gold and emerald held the hair in place, with matching earrings dangling from her ear lobes. They were on loan, Millie explained, if she was sure to tell others if they asked where she got the dress.
“This is too much, Millie.” Eiryn felt something akin to panic at the thought of walking around Balmora like this. No one would recognize her, she barely recognized herself, and what if she tripped and fell on the skirt? What if she got it dirty? What was she thinking? “Perhaps I should go with a blouse and trousers…”
“Nonsense.” The tailor chided her. “You look stunning, which is exactly what you wanted, is it not?” Her grin widened, “You shouldn’t be so timid of your beauty, my dear. Use it to your advantage.”
Eiryn cocked a mocking eyebrow at the woman but couldn’t help but laugh at her sincere expression. “Oh very well. I’ll take it.” She handed over the bag of coin, so certain she as that the dress alone could take all the gold she had. Just wait until Caius sees me in this getup, he’ll have a heart attack.
To her surprise, Millie only took half of the coin in the pouch. Handing back the pouch, the clothier winked. “You’ll pay me in errands later.” Which was just as well. At least Eiryn felt to be of use, even if merchants tended to run her as messenger or delivery. “Are you going to wear that now?”
Eiryn nodded, gathering her old clothes in a sack to simply carry with her. She wanted to find this Imperial fellow as soon as possible as her own curiosity nagged at her senses. “I might come back in a week or so to see what else you might have.”
Millie looked as though she was going to burst a vein. “Truly? More gowns?” her tone was so hopeful.
“At least nicer clothes than my usual travel gear.” Eiryn laughed, almost sorry to let the poor woman down.
“Well its nice to see you’re taking a bit more pride in yourself, my girl.” She said with a pout. “You just remember what that friend of yours told you about clothes making the person. Its true. Especially in Morrowind. That dress will do more help than hindrance, trust me.”
”I’ll let you know.” Eiryn promised.