Chapter 3: An Invitation

  Chapter 3

  Loredas evening arrived, the rosy sunset haze carrying with it a whiff of brimstone. The sulfurous quality struck Daria as weirdly fitting as her family trekked to the elegant manors of High Town.

  "Isn't this great? We're finally making our mark in Morrowind," Dad said. "Soon these Dunmer will know that Big Jake's the man they need to do business with the Empire!"

  "Not so loud," Mom cautioned. Locals, mostly Dunmer, still crowded the market stalls, negotiating last minute deals for dinner's kwama eggs.

  Like a gray sea with red shark eyes, Daria thought.

  Daria struggled along as best she could, wrapped up in a blue woolen robe so stiff and starched that she could probably fall asleep in it and remain standing. Wearing the damned thing felt like being stuck in a box that gave just enough room for her feet to shuffle across the flagstones. Quinn had something perfect for the occasion, of course, a pale rose gown that hinted at her figure while staying within the bounds of modesty.

  "Thanks again for getting me in," Jane said, walking behind the Morgendorffers with an easel under her arm and a backpack full of pigments. She wore one of Daria's older dresses, green and faded from neglect.

  "Sure. You're the only one making this ordeal tolerable."

  "Just sit back and enjoy the party favors," Jane said. "These things go by a lot faster after a few cups of mazte."

  "I'll do what I can to get you the best booze."

  "I knew you'd come through for me," Jane said with a smirk.

  They turned a corner to a pair of steep and high staircases cutting a straight path up the rocky slope to High Town. Rectangular adobe towers stood watch on either side at the top of the stairs, and Daria could see Hlaalu guards observing traffic through the vertical slot-like windows.

  "Ugh, I thought this place would be elegant!" Quinn complained. "It looks like a big, blocky fortress."

  "That's because it is one," Daria said. "Nobles need lots of protection for when people get tired of their shenanigans."

  "Enough, Daria," Mom warned. "And maybe spend some time thinking about which side of the barricades you'd actually be on. You're not exactly part of the underclass."

  Daria blushed, suddenly conscious of Jane standing next to her. Jane hadn't seemed to notice the comment, her eyes on the architecture ahead.

  Climbing the stairs brought them to a broad and clean plaza shaded by a few well-trimmed plane trees. The homes of the rich surrounded them, stout doors facing each other across the plaza. The houses there didn't actually look all that different from the ones below, definitely bigger but more or less in the same style, just with fresher adobe and ovoid windows filled with actual glass. More modest by far than the wealthy Imperial residences she'd seen in Anvil and Kvatch.

  Stony hills clambered up behind the manors. High Town occupied the farthest northwest point of Balmora, between rocks and a hard place. The sour kwama smell hovered here, too, but not as strong. The murmur of the marketplace was long gone, replaced by a cold and stately silence.

  Dad checked his map while Mom motioned for Daria to come closer. Not sure what to expect, Daria obeyed.

  "Remember our deal?" Mom said.

  Convincing Mom to let Jane tag along hadn't been that hard. Her parents liked Jane well enough, lacking though she was in social links. But in return for this charade, Daria had promised to at least try and network. Make two well-connected friends—no less than that.

  "I remember," Daria said, the two words grudgingly enunciated.

  "I know this isn't what you like to do. But it's how things are."

  "This one must be the Talori manor," Dad said, pointing to a nearby house. A sharply rectangular second story peeked out from behind an elegantly curved balcony wall. Next to the door stood a Hlaalu guard clad head to toe in yellowing bonemold armor, a too-large sword waiting in his scabbard.

  "Who goes there?" the guard asked, his raspy voice deep and echoing behind the helmet. Red eyes peered through the slit of his visor, which reminded her of some strange animal's mouth.

  Dad stuck out his hand. "We're the Morgendorffers! We've been, uh, invited to the party. I'm Jake; this is—"

  "Father, mother, two daughters, and a menial," the guard said, as if reading off a checklist. An edge crept into his voice at the last bit. "You may enter."

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  Dad waited a bit for the guard to open the door, an expectant smile on his face. The guard offered only silence.

  "Uh, I guess I'll show myself in."

  Dad took the handle and pulled, the heavy wooden door barely budging. He grunted in surprise and tried again. Now grabbing it with both hands, he wrenched it open and leaned a bit to the side so his weight would keep it that way, his teeth clenched with strain. He let it swing shut once they were all inside, and the door hit the frame hard enough to rattle the entire building.

  "What the hell was in that door?" he wondered, rubbing his back.

  Daria took a quick look over her shoulder, noting the horizontal slats on the door's inner side.

  "Reinforced. Helps against battering rams," she said.

  "Not very welcoming," Dad muttered.

  "That's the idea."

  They stood in a vast square room. Curved wooden support beams wound in and out of the adobe walls to connect with a massive wooden column in the center. Leafy bittergreen vines hung from the rafters, the bright color indicating that they'd recently been plucked. The place reminded Daria of a forest.

  Five long wooden dining tables with accompanying benches had been arranged in a semi-circle around the central column, the surfaces already laden with lit candles and bowls of dark blue glass. Imperial-style glass-and-metal lanterns glowed from between the beams, like fairy fire burning in the darkest woods. Narrow windows on the west wall let in the last of the day's dying light. Massive serving tables along the eastern wall bore rows and rows of clay vessels while the savory smell of some kind of roast drifted out from behind a paper screen placed in front of a doorway leading to the kitchen.

  A number of guests were already present. The smaller and slightly more lavish dining table at the center of the semi-circle, presumably reserved for the Taloris, remained unoccupied. Dunmer sat at the tables next to it, decked out in brightly colored frock coats and gowns cut in the latest Imperial styles. Outlander guests took positions at those farthest from the center, some with fine clothes like the Dunmer, others with drab outfits a la the Morgendorffers. Their placement around the big central pillar made it difficult for the occupants of one table to converse with anyone not directly to their sides. Menials, working for either the Taloris or the guests, took standing positions around the room with hands clasped and heads bowed. Jane had already moved to join them, and part of Daria wanted to stand next to her and enjoy the comparative remoteness.

  Daria recognized several attendees from Drenlyn Academy. There was Jolda, a Redguard girl reputed to be one of the smartest students, clothed in a flowing pink cotton dress and with her long black hair done up in cornrows. She sat between her parents, whose bejeweled golden bracelets proclaimed their wealth. Next to her father was another Redguard, a young man in the smart dress tunic of a junior legion officer.

  Quinn's current crop of suitors, Jonus, Julien, and Jeval, made themselves known at the table farthest from the door, eyes bright and already waving their hands to get their goddess's attention. She only smiled and gave a brief curtsy, sending the trio into paroxysms of hopeful glee.

  And finally, Synda, dressed in dark clothes with her gray hands folded on the table. Next to her, her mother, Lynda Grilvayn, Bonded Agent to Great House Hlaalu. Synda didn't so much as look at the Morgendorffers.

  "I hate her," Quinn whispered.

  Daria gulped. "Tempting as it might be to go after her, I suggest keeping your dislike to yourself," she warned.

  "Oh, please, Daria, how old do you think I am? I'll just gently tear her apart with insults that sound like compliments. Watch and learn."

  Daria's heart skipped a beat. She wanted to tell Quinn everything—how dangerous Synda really was. But there was no way Quinn would keep that a secret. "Don't. This isn't some Cyrodiil tea party," Daria said, her voice trembling slightly as she made sure to look away from Synda.

  Dad ushered them to the table occupied by Jolda's family. Daria took a seat, her muscles tensed as if in expectation of a blow. Synda wouldn't hurt her here. Not in front of everyone. But what about on the walk back home, with her whole family and Jane as targets...

  "Presenting!" thundered a harsh voice, and Daria turned her head to see a tall Dunmer in what she took to be traditional robes colored a lurid yellow. His arms were crossed over his chest and his eyes bulged with a fanatic's glare.

  "Serjo Sedrane Talori, by Grace of ALMSIVI, House Cousin and Tradesman of Great House Hlaalu, Patriarch of Family Talori, Officer of the East Empire Company, and Gentleman of Balmora Currently, and Cheydinhal Formerly!"

  The herald stepped aside. From behind him strutted forth a short-haired Dunmer who was anything but traditional, suited in a splendid deep-green coat. The skin beneath his eyes was lined with dots of raised flesh, an example of the subtle scarification seen in many highborn Hlaalu Dunmer. Next to him stood a tall human blonde in a shimmering gown. Only when Sedrane put his arm around her waist did Daria realize that the woman was actually his wife. Dunmer didn't often marry outlanders, not even for money.

  Of course, the outlanders present were still relegated to the far tables.

  A smiling Briltasi followed close behind, along with a young boy wearing a coat much like his father's. A scowl flashed across the boy's face before freezing back into a more restrained expression. Sedrane smiled and raised his arms. Most of the guests bowed their heads in response, the Morgendorffers only doing so belatedly.

  "Ladies and gentlemen, visitors and natives, welcome to my humble home!" Sedrane said. "It's my honor to present you with the very best in Hlaalu hospitality on this day, which symbolizes the growing union between Morrowind and the Empire, a union reflected in my recent marriage to the lovely Asciene-Amarie."

  Sedrane lifted his wife's hand to polite applause and a few stony glares from the Dunmer tables. Briltasi beamed. A good sign, Daria supposed.

  "But for all these glories, let us not forget those greater than us. Let us humble ourselves in honor of our deities, whether they be the tripartite gods of Morrowind or other gods from the many kingdoms within our glorious and eternal empire."

  He bowed his head, and the rest of the room followed suit. Daria tried to ignore the heavenly smells drifting from the kitchen. Was Synda plotting something right now? Or was her head bowed in worship of the three mortal wizards who passed themselves off as the gods of Morrowind?

  "And may we walk in ALMSIVI's grace," Sedrane announced as he finished. Smiling, he flexed his shoulders. "Back to more earthly matters. I achieved my success in the Imperial entrep?t of Cheydinhal..."

  Sedrane went on to detail his history of helping the East Empire Company find the most profitable ebony and glass deposits in which to invest. Daria tuned out, hoping the drinks would soon be served.

  Musical Closer -