Chapter Ten: Smiles Lying
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Raven Rock Mine
Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak
Either the dark elves had an almost Dwemer love of their mines, or the bandits had been busy. A pile of wood near the entrance was the only mess, elsewise it was clean. An office space occupied the 'ground' floor, where two dark elves scribbled in journals, and counted coins. The stopped and gave their guests their full attention as the cat led them in.
Between the many desks was a staircase down -- wide enough for two men to walk shoulder to shoulder, and made of smooth stone. Down below was what Ulfric imagined Markarth's ruins looked like in their infancy -- rooms dug into the walls of a pit which was guarded by a stone fence. Candles burned in lamps fixed to the stone -- presumably by magic.
Ulfric glanced at the Redoran who walked with them -- he was visibly shocked. From this, Ulfric gathered the bandits had been busy indeed.
"This way, please." The small cat led them to a room with leather flaps for a door. "Our kitchens."
Inside was indeed a kitchen, but also a dining area. The kitchen had countertops, shelves, a stove and oven all seemingly hewn from the rock itself. Toward the back was the dining area, full of tables and seating, along with a balcony that rose up to twist back toward the entrance.
"Khajiit will prepare something to help his noble guests through their long discussions -- and provide suitable drink." The cat grabbed an apron off a shelf and took cookery from another. "Mead, alto wine, and sujamma -- he suspects?"
The Thalmor dared injure Ulfric's ears with the sound of his loathsome voice, and colored it with confusion. "You have alto wine?"
"We do. Is reserved for special occasions, and esteemed company, yes no?"
"Mead is fine," Ulfric growled, his self-control disrupted by the Thalmor's proximity. The gods tested him, by placing such a beast in arms reach in a situation where he couldn't flay it.
"And sujamma would be welcome. May I ask what you intend to cook?" Adril spoke up, stiff and almost respectable. He had the airs of a soldier, not a warrior. The two were similar, but one would obey dishonorable orders if they were given by unworthy officers.
"Local fare -- so our esteemed guests know what they should expect when buying Solstheim, yes no?" The cat opened a chest that caused a severe draft of cold air, and pulled out a slab of red meat thicker than Ulfric's thigh and almost as long. "Ash yam and horker stew."
Horker meat was something Ulfric had eaten before, but not ash yams. He kept his hopes low for the stew.
As Adril led them into the dining area to pick a seat, the Redoran Guard he'd brought with him took up a post at the door. Ulfric heard something that made him look back at the cat with raised eyebrows.
He could have sworn he heard 'Yol', the dragon word for fire. And the stove was lit with flames from below.
"Jarl Ulfric, is all well?" The Redoran Councilor asked, while the Thalmor sat.
"...I thought I heard something, is all." Ulfric sat on the opposite side of the table from the Thalmor, where he could watch the fiend.
"Khajiit brews potions to cure tinnitus," the cat called from the kitchen. "Just let him know, he can get one from the closet."
"I'm fine," the Jarl groused. He glanced Adril's way as the elf joined them. "Are we to conduct our negotiations in a cave?"
Adril leveled a stare at him like he was an impudent child. "We are to conduct our negotiations in the most fortified building in the settlement, should you two come to blows."
A fair precaution to make, Ulfric observed. After a moment, their drinks were served -- mead for Ulfric, wine for the Thalmor, and an urn of sujamma for Adril.
"Shall we begin the negotiations, then?" Adril arched his eyebrow at both of them in turn, then clasped his hands. "Councilor Morvayn and I haven't made the announcement that we are leaving Solstheim yet -- how did your two groups hear of it?"
Their answer was, regrettably, the same. Remote scrying done by distant mages.
"I see. And why do you want to purchase Solstheim?" He glanced at both the elf and Ulfric. "Before we start price negotiations, we'd want to know the island is to be looked after."
"Solstheim was part of Skyrim not too long ago by the reckoning of your people," Ulfric explained and sipped his mead. It was good, Black-Briar stuff no doubt. "The High King understands no one expected Red Mountain's devastation to last so long, but we would like it back if your people have no use for it."
The Thalmor spoke next. "The Thalmor desire to see our influence in the northern parts of Tamriel spread -- and the sale of Solstheim provides us an opportunity to do so without bloodshed." He daintily sipped his wine, like it would bite him if he drunk too deep. "No lives are worth less than gold, or land."
A noble sentiment that Ulfric, and Adril he suspected, knew to be wholesale lies. The Thalmor had admitted to a desire to increase their influence -- which meant Dominion troops on Solstheim, within striking distance of both Morrowind and Skyrim.
Adril, having heard their explanations, told them the state of the island. Thirsk Meadhall, Tel Mithryn, and Skaal Village were the only other settlements, and none had sent status reports for some time. The dangers of the roads going north, and Raven Rock's limited manpower meant they had basically been trapped in their own settlement.
Damphall Mine was under their control, the only source of iron on Solstheim to their knowledge. And Highpoint Tower was the only other operable mine -- of gold, gems, and orichalcum. Ash fell constantly outside the Bulwark, which existed to create a shadow over the town where ash did not fall.
Hunting and fishing in the south had become difficult at best. Raven Rock and Fort Frostmouth to the east were both easily defensible port options, and there had been some spots on the northern side which they hadn't the resources to explore fully.
After an hour's time, the food was served. Ulfric glared at the Thalmor when he turned made a face at the food, and took a bite out of spite.
All at once, the Thalmor stopped mattering. Ulfric felt the tension bleed from him like an open wound. Old aches he had grown accustomed to so much he'd forgotten about them were suddenly relieved. Ulfric rolled his shoulders and filled the air with cracks and pops as his joints seemed to mend themselves.
He snapped back to reality to see Adril and the Thalmor frozen as they looked at him. The Thalmor actually looked shaken for the first time since Ulfric had met him. That pleased the Jarl, who swallowed his stew with a smile.
"Damn fine food," he told the cat and readied another spoonful. "Damn fine."
--
Raven Rock
Reaver Haranni
Every day, more ships came to Raven Rock. Ships from High Rock, Black Marsh, the Morrowind Mainland, and even further to the south. Seldom did they come from Skyrim or Hammerfell, but some did.
What Haranni loved was the ships that came from the homeland -- Elsweyr. The Khajiit she spoke too drove a hard bargain, but she was able to get excess moon sugar from them with her pay, and arranged similarly for the boss and J'Saddha.
It didn't hit her until she saw some of the townsfolk look at the newcomer's food with envy that their gang had become some of the wealthiest people in Raven Rock. The boss divided the gold from their mine evenly, everyone got around three thousand gold coins a week for their wages. Everyone, including him.
The newcomers weren't there to sell goods -- there was some once-in-an-era event coming that could only be seen on Solstheim. But they were willing to take their ships out for fishing if the gold was on offer.
Harrani and others from the gang did this -- paid the newcomers to fish, then gave the fish to their neighbors.
Every day, the gang had to keep busy because the boss would have to let the Second Councilor and the parties interested in buying Solstheim into their home to talk. At first, Haranni had thought -- perhaps they could buy Solstheim. But the boss told her the sums that were being negotiated in their kitchen.
Their mine couldn't produce that much gold in a year.
One evening, a week after the talks had begun, Harrani was approached by one of the sailors from Elsweyr while she worked on the smelter. She had seen him from a distance, both when she had bartered with his shipmates, and when they brought in their catches.
He was Cathay, thus taller than her by about a head, dressed for a sandstorm which only partially worked in the ash. His hood cast his face in shadow, but his speckled coat and odd tear-like markings were notable to Harrani. The Khajiit was armed, two bejeweled Bandaari scimitars on his back.
"Pardon," he said in Ta'agra and bowed his head. "This one is Dulini, he comes to voice some concerns he and his shipmates possess."
Harrani shoveled more fuel into the smelter for the gold bar she was working on, and looked up at him. "Harrani hears you, speak honestly and she will answer the same."
"Many thanks." He bowed his head again. "You and the blacksmith we have seen purchase our extra sugar -- but the third one… a dark elf comes and buys on his behalf." Dulini took a step forward, so that he was just ever-so-slightly in her light. "We do not want to be suppling to skooma dealers, you see."
Harrani met Dulini's eyes, unafraid. "We don't sell skooma," she said and dug the smelter shovel into a pile of charcoal. "We don't make skooma." She stuffed the charcoal into the smelter, which caught fire rapidly. "And we don't take skooma." She stepped toward the Cathay and poked him in the chest. "Our boss is Dagi, he has been in the mines, because of crazy people wanting to buy Solstheim."
Dulini narrowed his eyes, held up a hand, and release a flash of green fire. "Forgive this one for not believing you. Might he go inside, then? See there is a third Khajiit in your gang?"
Harrani didn't see the harm in it -- she had spoken her mind on the subject, and seemed at peace on the subject. It was perfectly normal for him not to believe her, and want to go into their home to see for himself. The green magicka in his hand had been odd, but nothing to concern herself with. She unlocked the door for him and went back to her work.
As soon as the spell wore off, she realized she'd been Calmed, just like the boss had Calmed Vortisi's gang before they died.
She called for Elam to watch her gold ore, she went into the mine to find Dulini. The Cathay wasn't at the flaps to the kitchen,or inside -- the rest of the gang ate supper normal. She checked the weapons cage -- still locked. She checked the lower mine which the boss had ordered them not to go near without any sighting of an unfamiliar tail.
It wasn't until she entered the new suite of rooms the boss and Nelos had made -- personal rooms for everyone and a bathroom that tapped into a natural spring for water -- that she saw something. At the flaps to the bath was an unfamiliar tailtip.
Her fur bristled, and she took the pickaxe from her belt. In a few steps, she had the flap pulled aside, and her pickaxe ready to go for the muskarse's neck.
The air was thick with steam, which made Haranni slow down enough to try and work out exactly where the muskarse Dulini was in relation to the wall. In the seconds she took to adjust, she caught the gleam of the boss' false eye.
"Harrani…," the boss said and snapped his fingers. Like magic, the steam cleared around him, enough that she could see him in the bath basin. "This one has been told you let our new friend into the mine?" It was sized so that even one as large as J'Saddha could be comfortable -- for one as small as Farri, it was much too large.
Dulini leaned on the wall, in such a spot that if Harrani had swung blindly, she'd have hit him. He had the gall to smile and wave at her. Some of that had to come from the boss speaking in the common tongue, not Ta'agra.
"Boss, Khajiit is sorry," she bowed her head, and bared fang at Dulini. "He used magic on her! Made her take leave of her senses!"
"He admitted as much." The boss took his false eye out and dunked it in the water before he returned it to the socket. "Wretched thing sticks. But yes, he claims he wanted to make sure Khajiit actually existed."
"Very happy to hear that there are three Khajiit in this gang," Dulini purred, pleased with himself and smug that Harrani hadn't killed him yet. "This one was also telling Farri about the event which brings so many people to Solstheim."
Harrani slowly eased up her stance, lowered her pickaxe and hid her fangs behind her lips. "Boss… you are alright with him being here?"
"Excuse, please?" The boss arched his good eyebrow at her. "A stranger coming into our house? You must be joking, yes no?" He snapped his fingers, and the steam returned from whence it had come. The boss was mostly hidden again, save the gleam of his eye. "But he had questions, legitimate concern, shared interesting information, and is getting the hell out."
Dulini pushed off the wall with his hands held up, in clear surrender. "Khajiit thanks Farri for the hospitality all the same." He bowed his head toward the boss, then walked out to the hall with his hands up still. "He will look forward to seeing you again, little Hare."
Harrani made sure to follow the muskarse out, and was tempted to physically boot him out the door -- but as soon as she got out, she had to go rescue her gold ore from Elam, who didn't know the fire was too cold.
The hooded Cathay slipped off down the hill into town while Harrani tended the smelter, a bounce in his step the last she saw of him.
--
Raven Rock Mine
Second Councilor Arano
After a week of negotiations, Adril was almost convinced Jarl Ulfric and Justicar Ancarion could be civil. Almost. They were more receptive to the local fare than he had anticipated -- and the liberal amounts of alcohol Farri poured them for their meetings helped as well. He noticed that the cat gave the Justicar perhaps more wine than was appropriate for a meal and business talks -- but it paid dividends by making the Altmer more pleasant than the average Thalmor.
But when they came to the mine on day eight, they found their table already made with food, drinks poured and left in their usual spots, and Farri at the table with a drink of his own. The reaver's tail twitched with visible annoyance, and his claws rapped on the wood to pass the time.
Farri had been in the kitchen during their discussions, but that was understandable -- it was his home, his kitchen. If Geldis were still alive, and the negotiations had happened in the Netch, Adril would have allowed him to listen in.
The three negotiators came to the table, confused, but sat nonetheless. Adril glanced down at the food -- saltrice risotto, dumplings with a vibrant orange filling, and a fired breaded egg-shaped thing. "I see you… prepared in advance. The food's gone cold."
Farri rubbed his face, like a weary man at the end of his patience, and sighed. "Yol." Steam rose from the food, all three plates, as if fresh from the oven..
"A handy little spell," the Thalmor observed warily, as he sat. Once they were all seated, he tried one of the dumplings. "Hmm. Is this ash hopper jelly?"
"Mhm." Farri nodded and rested his chin on his steepled hands. "Negotiations end today. One way or another. This one is tired of dealing with you people."
Adril arched his eyebrow as he pierced the breaded orb with his fork and cut into it with his knife. Under the breading was meat wrapped around a chicken's egg that had been hard boiled. He tried the queer food item, and found it rather delightful. "Hmph. That's not your call to make, Farri."
"Khajiit disagrees." Farri shrugged. He glanced at the other negotiators at the table, both pleased with his food. "You have spent seven days negotiating what is best for House Redoran -- what price will soothe their bruised ego best." There was such hate in Farri's eye when he met Adril's again -- if looks could kill, Adril would have burst into flame right there. "You will negotiate now what is best for Solstheim -- for people who live here, and remain when House Redoran is gone."
Adril was about to call for the Redoran Guard to remove Farri, but Jarl Ulfric cut him off.
"I find this perfectly acceptable, what say you Thalmor?" Jarl Ulfric spat the word, like he hoped it would become a knife and stab Ancarion in the throat.
"...Very well," Ancarion agreed, hesitant, and sipped his wine. "What is your starting position… I'm afraid I don't know your title, sir."
"Reaver Lord." Farri held up one finger. "First. People of Solstheim may worship as they choose -- they may worship their Good Daedra, their All-Maker, their ancestors, or nothing at all if it so pleases them."
Adril blinked -- that hadn't entered his mind at all when he thought of how life would be on Solstheim after they were gone. He imagined, as the Imperials had abandoned Solstheim before them, that any Dunmer would follow House Redoran to Blacklight.
"Done," Jarl Ulfric said as if his word made it so, and ate a dumpling. He seemed pleasantly surprised with the ash hopper jelly filling.
"I… would need to run that by my superiors," Ancarion said, startled. Evidently, he hadn't anticipated a quality of life demand either. "The Dominion has certainly softened our stance on Daedra worship since the Oblivion Crisis, but the All-Maker is a complete unknown to -- "
"Point goes to humans," Farri announced, and held up a second finger. "Second -- people of Solstheim may mine their resources, and ship it abroad with whom they choose. No charters or forced trade with any East Empire Company, or whatever Aldmeri version the Dominion possesses."
"Done," Jarl Ulfric said, again, as if his word would make it so.
"That's -- utterly ridiculous," Ancarion said and then realized he'd probably lost the 'point' to Ulfric again. "Solstheim's mineral wealth is uncharted, prospectors would need to come in -- and sell their finds to a Guild -- "
"Point goes to humans," Farri announced, and moved onto his third finger. "Third, Solstheim may govern itself. Either as a Hold with a Jarl, or a province with a governor. Be Skyrim, or the Dominion, we would have a say in the future of our new nation. No distant liege lords who owe us nothing, and offer no protection."
"Done," Jarl Ulfric said, a third time. He smirked at Ancarion across the table, clearly pleased with his lead.
"Alright that I can agree to," Ancarion said, flustered. He glanced at Adril, beseeching. "Second Councilor, I ask you to reign-in these rapid-fire negotiations."
Adril was about to do just that but then he met Farri's eye again, and once more saw the hate so strong he felt it could kill him outright. "I… I have heard nothing to which… Councilor Morvayn would object…."
Like a jester put on a mask, Farri's face changed into a pleasant smile. "A tie on this point. But the humans have the lead. Fourth." The Khajiit added another finger for the counting. "Equality of race. All races, man, mer, beast -- all of them. No Nords, Altmer, or Dunmer at the top." He glared at each one of them in turn as he spoke their race.
Jarl Ulfric was not as quick to grant that request as he had the others. Ancarion was silent, as he looked down at his food. And Adril found his mouth became too dry to speak when Farri looked at him, hateful, even for just a moment.
After an awkwardly long moment of silence, Jarl Ulfric leaned forward. His eyes were on Ancarion, and just as hateful as Farri's. "Done."
The Thalmor averted his eyes.
"Point to humans, again." Farri stood from the table and walked out of the dining area. "Accept the Jarl's offer. Get his promises in writing. Enjoy the food, the drink, then get the fuck out of Khajiit's house."
If the kitchen had a proper door, Adril was sure Farri would have slammed it.
The whole affair left Adril with the feeling that someone had smashed an egg in his face and told him to clean himself up.
---
) and all that jazz but I have to admit being a little worried lol.
