Oblivion Mod:Order of the Dragon/Brotherhood of the Knights I

Book Information Brotherhood of the Knights I
ID	xx021D1A
Prev.	None	Next	Chapter I
	5		1.0
Locations
Found in the following locations: In the Assassin Castle Great Hall and as random loot

Brotherhood of the Knights I

by Kaien Tanvaro

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Prologue

The sun had long since retreated behind the horizon as Arril Stayranas entered the 'Sleeping Pahmer'. A wave of heat and a variety of smells and sounds struck at him as he stepped over the threshold, and his eyes took a moment to get used to the prevailing light conditions.

He gave the first smile of the evening to the dancers who were provocatively rotating their hips in the back of the tavern. This was a ritual of his and almost done under compulsion, for when he saw the women, the same feeling of joyful expectation crept over him that he always felt when he counted his many coins.

A Dunmer who sat at the counter in the front of the taproom waved to him and patted the back of the chair placed next to him. It was Elistir Angodai, and he was a slavetrader. But not just any slavetrader, but one who is known to offer only the best dancers and playmates for sale. This specialization, in conjunction with the high product quality and his ability to bring a broom without a handle on the man himself, had earned him a reputation as a tough negotiator who was well-liked in the Sleeping Pahmer.

Arril had completed many successful business transactions with him over the years, so he could say with good reason to have found a very good friend in the other man.

That was the situation in which the second smile of the evening was used.

"A good evening, my friend," Elistir shouted over the din, as Arril sank into the chair beside him. He had a sonorous, firm voice that stood in stark contrast to his appearance, and Arril was shocked when he saw his friend's face. The hair was sparse, the skin pale, yes, almost translucent, and in his red eyes, usually glittering so lively, lay a profound fatigue. He seemed as powerless as a dry oasis.

"I wish you the same, but you seem to be sick," Arril said worriedly. "You should definitely consult a doctor, before your illness gets worse!"

Elistir waved and underscored this gesture through a vigorous shake of the head. "I'm not sick, but it's always happened to me, it cannot change anything."

This statement was vague and confused Arril, but the pragmatic businessman in him was stronger. It took over the helm and put the only question that seemed appropriate to him: "Why did you want to meet me here, then?"

Without a word in reply, or even a nod, the slave trader pulled a small bag from his pocket and handed it to Arril, who received it suspiciously. He opened it, and what he found in it, made him catch his breath for a moment. It was a Dunmer finger.

He immediately pulled the band back firmly and handed Elistir the bag. That one held up a hand.

"Keep it," he said.

Arril made no attempt to pocket the bag. "I do not think I want to."

"I can understand that. But you really should, for the sake of this realm." Conspiratorially, he leaned forward, put on a glove, and Arril recognized who the finger had belonged to. "You must take it to a place where no one can find it. This is important. You need it to break the seal. But it must never happen, never. You..." Elistir stopped.

By Mephala, he's crazy! went through Arril's head. Another explanation occured to him - that the slave trader actually assumed that someone here was after his index finger. And then he had chopped it off himself. His own index finger. Arril was stunned. And wanted to voice this fact when he noticed that the other did not notice him. Instead, he stared past a point on Arril's shoulder. The Dunmer was about to turn when Elistir grabbed him by the arms.

"Do not look," he implored Arril, and panic blazed in his eyes. "Pack away, hide it, do something. Just do not let them get that. Otherwise, it will soon happen to us all! Now you must go. Just go out. Do not let it show."

"I do not understand ..." Arril began, confused, but Elistir put a hand over his mouth and shook his head.

"Get out."

For a long moment, Arril's head was pitifully empty, then he stood up and left the tavern without looking back.

Elistir was crazy! Totally confused and bewildered and overthrown in a way that made Arril fear madness. He would necessarily have to talk with Elistir's wife about it when the next morning had dawned.

The evening was pleasantly cool. It would still take a while until it got really cold, and so Arril declined a carrier and went on foot instead. This helped him to think, and the longer he pushed the memory of what just happened back and forth in his head, the better he was able to convince himself that Elistir's behavior was perfectly logical. Surely he was sick, as happened now and again with old people, and he urgently needed care.

A loud bang rang out. A few seconds later, white stone splinters trickled from the sky.