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This is the autobiographical journal of Arvil Bren, a somewhat reluctant hero who has been placed on an unknown quest by powers that he barely knows exist. Follow his journey as it is updated daily, Monday through Friday, and enjoy! These are the most recent entries in Arvil Bren's third journal; Politics of the Redoran. His first journal can be found in its entirety here. His second journal, Trail of the Archmage can be found here.

Wednesday, March 15, 2006

28: Redoran Council

I arrived at the council chambers for my appointment with Lord Ramoran, only to find that he had been called to a council meeting. I stood for a moment trying to decide whether to wait or have a messenger sent when he returned. There was no decision to make.

"Your presence at the council meeting is required," the page said. There was an ominous edge to her words.

I appeared at the main door of the council meeting room. Another page slipped inside to inform the council of my arrival. As the door quickly opened and closed, I could hear a brief burst of raised angry voices. Tempers were clearly coming to a boil.

The page returned. "The council will be taking a break. When they return they will be wanting you," he said.

I wandered the halls. As the bells rang, recalling the council into session, I saw Lord Ramoran. I fell into step beside him as we headed towards the meeting room. "Did you find her?" he asked.

I didn't want to lie. I also saw no point in telling him the truth. "The woman you loved is no more, sir. My deepest condolences to you and her family."

"Sad," he said after a moment. "I suppose I always knew in my heart that she was dead." We walked into the meeting hall and I was satisfied. In his heart, dead was the best thing for her to be.

Getting Lord Ramoran on my side could not have come at a better time. Otherwise I might have found myself writing this in a cell. I was summoned to the council as part of Venim's response to the ash statue crisis, and his intent was clearly to put some sort of blame on me.

"You!" Bolvyn Venim roared as soon as everyone had gained their seats. "You have risen rapidly through the ranks of our house with your outlander magic and trickery, but now you have made a mistake! Others may be easily mislead as to your motives, but I will brook no interference in Ald-ruhn! We have guards. They have responsibilities. Your involvement has left them crippled with uncertainty! Sleepers! Indeed! How do we know the danger among us is this 'sixth house', not your own imperial guild, wizard?"

"By using your brains, sir. I have served the house faithfully. The mage's of my guild provide for the defense of Maar Gan. The local temple called on me to investigate the ash statues, and I was happy to help, since I know there is a coming war. My guild stands ready to fight House Dagoth. You lead the house I have chosen to serve. Are you preparing to lead our house to war, or are you keeping it divided against itself to keep your own power until Dagoth Ur strips it from you?"

His red eyes blazed, and bulged above the dusky cheekbones. "You dare!" He glared around the chamber, expecting far more support than he got.

"Yes, I dare. The war will come, like it or not. Your petty politics cannot be what leads the house when it does. It is war, the time of the Hortator."

He actually laughed. "Hortator? And who might this Hortator be outlander?" Again he glanced around, stopping at his greatest rival. "Sarthi! Surely even you would not stoop to this....outlander! Even if you think you can wrest control of this council from me, House Redoran will have an outlander Hortator over my dead body!"

It wasn't exactly a challenge, but Sarethi is enough of a politician to twist the words. "A duel to the death Bolvyn? Are you sure you would go that far?"

"I will slit your rotten carcass Sarethi!" he screamed.

"Your duel is not with him, Venim. It is with me. I will be Hortator. If it must be over your fallen corpse, so be it."

"I do not duel with wizards outlander. Save your talk for your own guild's challengers. This is a house matter."

"And this is my house. I am well aware of the Redoran rules of dueling. Rules you have promoted to keep the wiser, more thoughtful members of the council in check. I will follow your rules Venim, and show everyone that the day of the politician has ended. It is war Venim, the hour of the Hortator is at hand!"

With the support of Morvayn and Ramoran, Lord Sarethi took over the council, pending resolution of the duel. I left Ald-ruhn directly, establishing myself in my offices in Vivec, safe from any 'accident' that would prevent my appearance at the arena tomorrow. The betting has already begun.

7 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Um.......its monday the 13th.......


coll entry by the way!

7:27 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Er...I mean cool entry. And i forgot to put my name!

-Noozoooroo

7:28 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Now I spelled my name wrong!

-Noozooroo

7:29 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I loved this chapter, VERY exciting. I can't wait to see what happens during the Trial of the Hortator!

9:17 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

WOW! That got my adrenalin going.

Although absolutely true to the Morrowind story, Arvil's journal actually makes you feel you are really THERE - watching, in the Council Chamber.
And the tension is building up ....!
Magnificent story-telling.

- Angela

12:51 PM  
Anonymous Allan said...

Tim, I love your work, but...

IT'S ABOUT TIME!!!

Sorry. It's just that I love the Hortator aspect of the game, even though I felt it was not nearly as fleshed out (in the game, that is) as it could have been. I've been looking forward to you finally claiming the title and laying the smackdown on Bolvyn Venim.

I can't wait.

8:43 AM  
Anonymous mikekearn said...

The betting's on you say? Well that's just not fair; we all know Arvil will wipe the floor with this guy! ;-)

A great dramatic build -- I can't wait to see how it plays out.

12:33 AM  

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