Merosa Dialogue #3 COMPLETE

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COMMENTS IN BRACKETS {} ARE SPOKEN/DONE BY THE PLAYER
COMMENTS IN BRACKETS [] IS WHAT THE PLAYER IS DOING OR WHERE THEY ARE
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Merosa:
Experienced in politics to a point where she seems to have been dulled by it
Cynical but not aggressive, unless prompted
Miscommunicates her true feelings, where she just wants to keep The Reach stable, in her demeanor as being seen to be overly strict. Reach took it’s toll on her.
50-60 years old
First found at Divide talking to Fenig.

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{Merosa?}

Have we arranged a meeting? Or is it your intent to address nobility lacking proper decorum? Speak quickly lest you rile my temper.

The impertinence of you Orcs! You're fortunate that we're not of the same temperament of those in Arnima - now speak quickly.

{My name is <Player name>, I've come to inform you about the witchmen who've sacked the watchtower to the east}

Orcs seem to carry bad news wherever they go, and today proves no exception. At least this isn't of your doing, so I'm grateful for the warning.

Oh, a harbinger of grim news, not the best first impression. Well, thank you for telling me in advance of my own guards. It was only a matter of time before they spilled further east.

Pardon the introduction, yet understand the need for it - we can't have any wandering yokel approach royalty like they're of the same stock, it's not good for the kingdom's image.

We'll have the guard there as soon as possible - but for you, are you interested in some coin? We need someone to talk to us.

{Gold for talking? Sure thing.}

Nothing more pleasing to a mercenary than gold. From your mannerisms, I'll make the sound assertion that you're not versed with High Rock itself, and probably lack knowledge of this realm.

However, you will come to know the kingdoms people in short time, as our stone walls all but separate the encroach of savage from civilized.

{I hope I do...}

Yes, well onto the matter;

to the east of this bridge lies the town of Arnima; formerly Raven Spring, lest you run into a resident whose mind is stuck in bygone years. Can get confusing, much like everything else in this land.

Within Arnima you will find Jackos, who trains the scout detachment there - he's the only man that I somewhat trust, who's not completely beholden to his lord.

Ask him about rumors, tell him that I sent you - he should understand your intent. We've conducted affairs before; a simple nod from him will be more than enough information for you to infer.

You don't need to know any further than that.

[You're awfully trusting]

Orc, become aware of yourself at once. To even entertain the idea that any in this land will side with you in case that information goes public..

I don't need to elaborate what the consequences for someone of your kin would be, do I Orc?

Now off, royalty can't be seen within the presence of your kind.

Ask yourself, would a noble or an unknown scoundrel have their head on a pike in case our little conspiracy became public?

Remember that if you go speaking aloud about your duty, I will simply deny any involvement and you will be watching over the reach without a torso.

Now off you go, earn a small fortune for yourself. I heard Evermore has many an opportunity to entertain your proclivities, on the stipulation of coin mind you.

Such coin that will be available on your return.


Not a risky task, just a word from him about the current happenings. Be careful on the road, there's more trouble than help out there.

{Jackos confirmed the rumors of the lord's activities}

He can very well bring our town down with his if he doesn't come to his senses, I'll have to make word with Evemore's Council to see what can be done.

Your deeds are appreciated, make yourself feel welcome atop our bridge. The head of the Imperial Embassy; Drugo, needs someone as disciplined as you.

Make sure to pay them a visit, seems they're going to make a push against the Orsimer who razed their outpost. Your help could make the difference.

{I don't want to work for the Imperials, is there any other work for me?}

I hear the disdain behind your voice, I assume you have good reasons. Well let's see...

Ah yes, a perfect opportunity to rid myself of this foul proposition. That wretched lord seeks an eager helper.

However, the Imperials have a somewhat reliable legacy of keeping their assistants alive, I can't say the same for Mortifayne. Pray for good fortune, you'll need it.

{I'll head straight to them.}

Good to see some enthusiasm, the Reach certainly needs more like you.



{Anything in particular that I should expect when traveling the roads?}

I assume you're new to the reach and haven't become acquainted with anything further than this bridge, so a brief lesson in geography is in order:

Just beyond the southern gate of this settlement lays Sabbat, a town recently ravaged by a mage that we're still sniffing out - however our search was impeded from the risen dead that malcontent left in their wake.

{And if we kill this mage, will the march of this dead horde cease its advance?}

It's a possibility, yet I'm not staking any more men on a hope - we're but a fledgling town when it comes to arms, our guard exists for our immediate defense, not to be used in any failed excursion.

{These witchmen that attacked your eastern tower? Who are they?}

I'm no expert, nor historian, but what I can tell you should be the same that every Reachman would recite when speaking of those savages.

Accounts state that this new incarnation of the witchmen appeared near two decades back, just after the incident at Munstor.

{Munstor?}

You haven't heard of it either? I feel like I'll be going over the history of every blade of grass in the reach.

I digress, Munstor was an abandoned fort, far to the north, that has since succumbed to its frozen locale.

Peasants, serfs and other seditious souls had made a great exodus under the cover of night, all leaving their fields, abandoning the lords they were sworn to serve.

Of course, when your all your labor, thus wealth, absconds in but a moment, there will be tremors. So the lords had sent men to trail these wayward workers all the way to Munstor.

What they saw was an ostensibly bizarre affair - both Witchmen and peasants forming a decadent commune, many turning to layabouts who engaged in petty pleasures and shirking the labor that had made them.

{Witchmen with the peasants? Those witchmen don't seem like the type you want to live with.}

I see you're not one for absorbing the finer details of a conversation - this was before they had all turned feral. Not to say they weren't savage before, but that former identity was ultimately harmless unlike those you see now.

The lords eschewed violence at first, instead opting to subvert the commune. Freeing their scum and exiles northward, with the condition that they go live in Munstor.

The hope was that the delusional dreamers of that town would abandon their fickle want for equality once "extreme" personalities had entered their midst.

{And did they?}

To our utter astonishment, they didn't, these scum that would haunt our societies were either subsumed into the mix, or blocked from entry.

Leading many to evaluate the true intent of these radicals, we thought they were just pacifists who'd allow any and all into their ranks, which should spell doom for any gathering.

Panic stricken, many lords conspired, finally pushing for the siege that would be that communes undoing. Cutting off food, digging extensive tunnels to both poison their wells and revealing more avenues for attack..

Lastly, clear diplomacy, to impart some reason into those serfs - enough for them to return to civilization and abandon these naive ideals.

{So how does this tale conclude?}

The lords saw the beneficiaries within Munstor, a gathering of hagravens' who were prolonging this siege to impossible lengths. Then crumbs of discontent were found among our militia, fear gripped the nobility that these ideas could spread to every serf.

Nobility, not just from Evermore, but from all over High Rock sent aid when they heard how severe the crisis was. All of High Rock seemingly united, to crush this small town. Yet only a luddite would think so simply...

This was to crush an idea, a canker that'd undo the very world we haven. So the lords strength was honed into one blow. Throwing all their might at those walls.

They fell, and what mercy we would have spared upon those misguided serfs was instead replaced with conviction to stamp out a chaotic ideology.

{You killed all the serfs?}

I? No, they however did. To the last man, woman and child. A Pyrrhic victory in the truest sense, Evermore had lost half its serf class yet the lords were elated - that the existential crisis of revolution was averted.

Exceptionally harsh measures were put in place for anyone that even uttered the commune's name, or who dared to evoke the same rebellious sentiments. And so that concludes the tale of Munstor.

{A tragic story it is, however, how did this make the "new" witchmen?}

Almost lost myself in another tale, maybe because that question isn't as easily answered. Bare with me, as what follows can drift into conjecture...

Rumors from the nobility in that siege reported seeing figures watching the slaughter unfold in the town, neither part of the Kingdoms militia or the defendants.

Scouts were dispatched to see who the strange party was, and upon their return they displayed strange idols, with the scouts claiming them as gifts from those shady silhouettes. Though their names or identities were never disclosed.

Most of the nobility had discarded these charms immediately,  except for that wretched Mortifayne, who was enamored by that hideous amulet that still rings his filthy neck.

in the years that followed the siege, people had brought news of slaughter among the Witchmen, upon themselves. Not merely a civil war as such, but a purging.

Seemed not one sane pagan was left up north, and that's when communication from the posts in their lands stopped. Silence had blanketed their profaned realm, until recently.

{What do you think they want?}

If I could tell you then we'd already be half way to a solution by now, but that's where my knowledge ends. I hope you enjoyed the tale, it's always a guilty pleasure to recite when the lowborn are acting up.

{What happened with this Mortifayne and yourself?}

I'd prefer not to speak about that vile creature lest the thoughts sour my day. He's someone who will exploit any fear or shortcoming and twist it for his own deviant pleasure.

I'll prefer to keep a head on my shoulders and not become incensed by recalling our past altercations. Even picturing that miserable, bitter face casts a spell of anger over me.

{Sorry for asking then.}

You needn't be, he as a topic for conversation is as pleasant as any other fetid duty we're plagued with. To only be addressed when it's removal is an option.


[Player witnesses scene between Merosa and a priest]

You heard correct, because he and his guards are demanding more gold from the merchants while also becoming more aggressive. No better than thugs.

And that little lord does nothing but encourage it, I despise that unsightly man, every conversation with him is extremely unpleasant.

His paranoia also makes it so we can't have any of our own in that town to keep an eye on him.

Very well, make a prayer that nothing terrible arises from this disorder. It's good to have the gods listening in times like this.

[Player comes across scene where Merosa confronts Mortifayne]

It's time Priest, I hope Mortifayne has prepared for a life with the beggars. Sigmayne and the council made it clear, Mortifayne can not rule.

The putrid man has the gall to ignore the will of the King?! Where is he priest?

Horustair here will see to your death if you try anything rash little "lord". You have stained the kingdom of Evermore with your ill acts.

Your capturing of trade goods and intimidation of merchants have brought ruin to your town and the Reach. Your rights as royalty are now forfeit.

This mad man has rambled long enough, arrest him and bring him to trial in Evermore. My stomach reels at the sight of him.





[MISC DIALOGUE]


[NPC OFFERING BOUNTY TO PLAYER]
Here, read this, the council just put up this bounty.

[PANIC, RUNNING AWAY]
Help! I don't want to die!
I beg you! Show mercy!
By the gods! Someone help me!

[PLAYER YIELDS]
You fool, you'll get yourself killed.

[Player Stealing]
Cretin! Give that back!
I'll have you hanged thief!

[Friend is murdered]
Damn monster!

[Dying words]
This is how it ends...
The world fades...
My service is over...

[NPC being hit]
You fool!
Augh.
No!
Ah!
Eugh!

[TAUNT DIRECTED TOWARD DAEDRA]
Divines spit on you.
I'll send you to oblivion myself.
What in oblivion are you?!

[TAUNT DIRECTED TOWARD GENERIC ENEMY, ]
Make your prayers.
Your end nears.
Your last mistake.
Get out, monster!

[NPC REACTING TO PLAYER ACTIONS]
Impressive!
Practice on your aim simpleton.
Stop before you hurt someone.
Stop that you buffoon.
Get down from there you oaf.
Never seen such a thing!
Get out of here with that.
You disgrace the divines with this behavior!


[NPC REACTING TO DEAD BODY]
Why must I be faced with such a vile sight? Someone move this body immediately!

[GOODBYE]
Till next we meet
Off you go.
Return with what I need.
Farewell.

[PLAYER SHOVING NPC]
Ugh...Insolent wretch.
Watch yourself among nobility!

[HELLO]
Speak up.
Out with it.
Done with my request?
Cease with your pestering.


[NPC HORRIFIED]
Can't believe what just happened.
I can't stay here.

Come on, let's go.

Why have the gods abandoned us?