50510866?profile=original

 

          Ararvyne Varam's youth has no relevance to his story. All that is needed to know is that he's lived a little too close to the border between Morrowind and Black Marsh. Around his older teen years he found himself in the middle of an Argonian raid on his home. Even over a century after the Accension War, the Argonians still desired retribution for their years of slavery, and he was but another sacrifice towards that retribution. He was captured, and sold into slavery within Black Marsh, alongside others of varying race, some Dunmer and others Dunmer supporters. As a slave, he faced severe mistreatment and vengeful lashing from slavers and natives alike, all the while being constantly reminded of the sins his people committed towards them for thousands of years. Ararvyne constantly felt as if his life were in danger due to the animosity of the Argonians that owned him, fearful that they may kill him should their anger reach a sufficient point, and prayed to any who would listen for salvation and release.

          Some years of miserable slavery later, he'd given up on waiting for his freedom to come to him; he knew he would be long suffered and dead before anyone came to his rescue. The Aedra were powerless, and the Daedra would not waste their time with a retch like him, and none in Black Marsh would put a hand out for him. Discarding his weakness, his new ambition began. He mastered the secret of being a competent slave: Answer the expectations of those who you serve, while holding some degree of incompetency to prevent them from growing wary of you. He made sure he understood as much as possible about his owners so as to find the proper way to serve them. He'd find out their likes, dislikes, loves, hates, their faith and their anything he could use to improve his current situation. He memorized everything he believed he could use to his own benefit, gaining a wealth of information and a penchant for impressing, becoming a top tier slave within the markets. Yet despite his value he never once felt any sort of pride in his current lifestyle, for a high quality slave was still a slave, and his abilities and worth did little to deflate the hatred of the Argonians.

          One Argonian, however, he would find to be more understanding. It was a man named Jee-Tah, and he was Ararvyne's final master, having purchased him for the purpose of housekeeping and house watching while he was off on business. He was a more comfortable man than previous owners, being more respectful of his servant's needs and rarely complaining. It was a much welcome change for Ararvyne, and one of the first signs he'd seen that he was making some progress in his methods. Thus his days moved methodically. When Jee-Tah was home it was work around the home and in the fields, and when he was out of the house on business, Ararvyne took the time to inspect the house in further detail. He would check every corner of every inch of the home, making sure to move everything he'd displaced back to where it belonged in the exact same position, and he would always insure he was finished at least 45 minutes before his master returned.

          It was during one such hunt, 54 minutes before his master's estimated return, that he discovered a hidden secret within Jee-Tah's study, a false wall within the backs, tightly secured but removable, which hid a mid-sized indent in the wall with a number of boxes of various sizes within. The actual wall was nearly perfectly well-hidden, and were Ararvyne not scouring the entire room for secrets he could have easily missed it. Opening each box one after another, he discovered a number of documents and letters addressed to him, organized neatly in ascending order from when they arrived, and each one bearing an unusual symbol on the bottom left corner. As he scanned through them he could not help but feel as if he'd stumbled upon something he shouldn't have, but he still had time, and he had to understand just what it was he'd found. He searched through the papers, stopping at a letter which had been received some years ago, 'Rain's Hand, 192 4E', and began to read:

 

'Jee-Tah

          This is an update in the machinations currently active within the province of Skyrim. The situation revolving around Ulfric Stormcloak is as expected. The Thalmor have indeed gained an interest in him, and see him as an asset in future attempts in conquering Skyrim. He has also formed a small army for his agenda, but we can assume he has even bigger plans for it. I believe he intends to challenge Imperial control of the lands, in rejection against the banning of the worship of Talos. It may be some time before he acts upon this but the signs cannot be missed. Unrest within the province on the ban continues to rise, especially with the Thalmor essentially invading Skyrim. It won't be long now until something gives

          The Forsworn attacks within The Reach continue. There seems to be no end to the needless deaths. We've done what we can to ensure our allies within the hold see no damage done to them, but crossfire must be considered. Thonar Silver-Blood seeks to use the Reachmen to eliminate any threats to his power, and should our intrests clash we may need to put an end to this "rebellion" once and for all. Otherwise it has its benefits if we can direct his hostility to potential threats in our operation. We must simply keep-'

 

          "I don't recall having purchased such a curious servant."

          Ararvyne froze. Behind him, Jee-Tah stood at the door with a solemn look upon his face. He did not hear him coming in, or going up the steps for that matter, as if he had planned to catch him in the act the entire time. Time seemed to stand still for Ararvyne, as he silently pondered his fate. Jee-Tah continued. 

          "You know, when one installs a hidden compartment within one's home it is usually with the intent to store away items and articles he consideres wholly 'private'." He placed emphasis on the last word, as if to drill into his servant's head the gravity of the mistake he'd committed. Ararvyne could only turn and stand slowly to face his master, a look of uneasiness upon his face. "Now tell me, what would you happen to be doing, looking through my 'private' belongings?"

          He took a gulp. He knew no answer would save him from his inevitable fate. He had been caught. He was reading a set of documents that were clearly confidential in content and that were not for his eyes. He had no other option but the truth. Having come to accept this, he took a breath and began to speak calmly, yet with his eyes to the ground. "...I wanted to learn more about you, master."

          Jee-Tah raised a brow. "Do you make a habit of this for all of your masters? Poking your nose where it clearly does not belong?" he slowly walked forward, stopping in front of Ararvyne and at the center of the room.

          Ararvyne spoke, still holding his eyes to the ground. "Yes, master. I learn as much about my masters as possible, so that I may serve them better. Please forgive me master I mean't no harm."

          "...Is that so?" Jee-Tah would stare at Ararvyne for several more seconds. Had the slave looked up at his master he would have seen curiosity. Jee-Tah was curious about Ararvyne, the man who would risk his master's ire in order to advance his own capabilities. And as well, to manage to locate his hidden indent within the walls, and to remove the false piece as well, required skill. Deep in his mind he was impressed; it was a survival trait developed to secure one's own safety in a land that so deeply resented his kind. He could see that much. But that hardly mattered in this scenario. His slave had been caught in the act of committing a sin no slave should ever commit, and he had to suffer for it.

          He walked to Ararvyne's side, and snatched the letter he still held in his hand. "Go wait in the living room. We will discuss what will happen next once I finish cleaning up your mess." He put the letter back in the box and inspected the rest of the contents within the indent, ensuring that nothing else was missplaced. Ararvyne walked soberly towards the door. A rush of thoughts were going through his head, as various scenarios began to play on repeat in his head. What would happen to him, now that he had been discovered violating his master's privacy? Best-case scenario, he would simply be returned to slave auction, though it would severely damage his reputation thereinafter, and perhaps summon complaints from previous masters. He may lose much of his freedom, become a symbol of disgust for the people, and perhaps worse. He thought of what could happen and any ways to circumvent the damage. He had but a moment to think before he felt the heavy weight thunder against his head. He retained enough conciousness to see that Jee-Tah had struck him with a steel mace he'd pulled from within the indent. As he stared at his master looming over him, blooded mace in hand, his conciousness finally slipped.

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