Dawn's Displacement [ADDED]

[Morgoth]

Dawn's Displacement
Unknown

The sun set upon yet another frigid day along the foothills of the River Odai. The winds swirled and whistled as the residents of Balmora scurried for the warmth of their homes. From the alleyway, Grjeld watched as the last of them hurried in lighting a silver street-lamp and then disappeared into the nearest building. It was now completely silent. Grjeld slipped down from his perch on top of a stack of crates and walked casually out of the alley. Looking around, he began to make his way across the darkened town. The light from the street-lamps flickered as the wind grew steadily worse. There was movement behind him. Grjeld swiveled around, and in the same instant, chose a spell and fired. The spell hit its mark just in time, and the nearest lamp went out with a snap, cloaking the street in darkness. A person swore heavily and fumbled around with his keys as he tried to re-enter his house. Grjeld ran silently into another alleyway. This would never do. If that person had been a guard, things could have gone disastrously. Cursing his own shortcomings, Grjeld continued toward his destination once more, continuously looking back over his own shoulder for signs of pursuit. At last he reached the doors of a dimly lit building, and slipped inside.

"Grjeld!" a young Breton woman exclaimed, approaching him swiftly. "How in the world did you get back here?" A crowd gathered around him, a few of the people mumbling greetings. "Welcome back to the South Wall, Grjeldâ€Â￾ Shouted an Altmer also coming forward. "What kept you? We were supposed to go raiding up in Ald'Ruhn." The Altmer smiled and shook Grjeld's hand. "I was just having a chat with one of my legion comrades," said the Altmer conversationally. "He says unless you pay up, you'll get a death warrant before long." Grjeld Smiled. "You know as well as I that it wouldn't be the first time, Turelle." he said. It was true. There had been two other occasions in which he had been terribly close to receiving a warrant before he could come up with the money to pay off his fines. "Well, I've got enough now, plenty in fact." said Grjeld moving toward a stairwell, Turelle following behind." I'm paying it off right now."

He approached a Khajiit at the bar and explained his situation. "15,000 Septims?" said the Khajiit in disbelief. "How is you possibly getting fined as much, Khajiit would like to know?" Grjeld hesitated. "All for a stupid diamond... never you mind," he said. He was clearly a bit touchy about discussing this matter. Nords normally kept to the Fighters Guild or the Legion, but Grjeld had always been fascinated by thievery. However, he would never be as stealthy as the tiny Bosmer or cat-like Khajiit, and perhaps that was why he and Turelle got along so well, High Elves hardly being small themselves. "Sir?" said the Khajiit impatiently. "Oh, yes, 7,500 Septims then?" Grjeld said distractedly "I have it here, right here." He handed the Khajiit a coin purse. "Mind if I grab a bed here for tonight?" he asked Turelle. "Of course not." replied Turelle, "Get your pack and I'll get a room arranged." The Khajiit counted out the money and returned Grjeld an empty purse. "Thank you, the guild will have your fines all better by morning, good sir." Grjeld thanked him and hoisted his pack. "In here," said Turelle, pointing to a room to his left. "Thanks," said Grjeld "I really need some shut-eye."

He entered the room and closed the door. The room had a roaring fireplace and a very comfortable bed. As Grjeld lay down, the weight and worry of the last few days seemed to slide off of him. He was out of debt, free from the name of "criminal", and he could finally walk in daylight again without the fear of being jumped by a guard. He drifted off to a peaceful slumber with these thoughts still floating in his mind.

Somewhere far away there was a soft crack. It was this sound that brought Grjeld back to waking life. He felt a hand slip onto the back of his neck and firmly hold down while the voice of a Dunmer whispered in his ear; "So, you think you are safe from us in here?" "You paid off your bounty, but you cannot rid yourself of the writ that we have prepared for you." Grjeld choked out a reply, but it was inaudible. The Dunmer laughed. "Did you think that stealing from the Morag Tong would get you anything less than death? Grjeld's mind was racing. How could they have gotten into the guild? After all, it was only one chest that he looted, and he paid the bounty off quick enough.

He remembered the trip into the Tong guildhall easily. Most of the members were in a meeting, and the entrance hall was empty. Grjeld spotted a large chest near the doorway, and using his meager lock-picking skills, managed to open it. It was a simple diamond that he was after, a favor for Marillia. There was indeed a diamond inside, which he snatched up quickly. Then his eyes fell upon a beautiful Ebony War-Axe. It was inlaid with gold and the blade was engraved with elegant filigree. There were a few other things, but this was surly a treasure that any thief would consider a wonderful find. No sooner had he taken it from the chest than the door at the end of the hallway opened. Wrapping the axe in the folds of his cloak, he sprinted towards the door to Balmora, but not before the Tong members had recognized him and later reported him to the guards. They had obviously taken matters into their own hands now.

Now, trapped in a locked room with an assassin bearing down one him, Grjeld was sure that this was the end. Thinking wildly, he cast about his mind for some type of escape. Then, as the Dunmer reached into his robes and began to withdraw a dagger, Grjeld cast the first spell that came into his mind. The Dunmer screamed and toppled over, obviously startled by the fact that, just as the flame in the streetlamp had, his hands had disappeared. Grjeld jumped to his feet, and unsheathed a breathtaking Ebony war axe, which he wasted no time in thrusting into his fallen enemy. The assassin let out a gasp and fell dead. The door to the room burst open. Raising the axe once more, Grjeld readied himself for another attack, but he needn't have bothered, for the first person to enter was Turelle. "What's happening?" he yelled. His eyes fell upon the axe in Grjeld's hand, and then onto the dead assassin lying next to him.

"An attack? Here? How?" he blurted out all at once. Grjeld explained everything over a few mugs of Sujamma downstairs. Turelle made for a very good audience, gasping at all the right places throughout Grjeld's tale. They didn't get to sleep until well after the sun had risen.

The next day Grjeld resigned from the Thieves guild however regrettably, and signed a contract with the Imperial Legion. He knew the Legion would ship him out to some other province, and that he would be free from the Morag Tong of Morrowind. The very next week he was told to pack for Skyrim. He happily boarded the ship after saying farewell to all of his old Thieves Guild companions, and found his room on the lower level. It seemed that his roommate was already there. Grjeld crossed the room and shook hands with the surly Dark Elf. "Sundal Relas," Said the elf smirking, "Morag Tong."

[Arthmodeus]

3.B.MW

Properties: Common to the Thieves Guild and Morag Tong.