After a good night's rest, I made my way back to Almalexia's temple.

A guard outside the temple entrance, nodded in my direction, commenting on how odd the weather has been lately, then continued on his patrol.

I found here in her chapel, just like the last time. Almalexia was pleased to see that I wasn't dead.

She gave me a divine blessing of "Skin Like Iron", always useful against swords and sharp fangs, especially since I don't often use armor. It was then that she spoke of a very important matter.

"I have been watching you since your arrival in Vvardenfell," she said, "and you have been a strong and faithful servant to me. None but the Nerevarine could have succeeded as you have. How long I have waited for this! My Nerevar, returned to me at last! I have watched from my Temple as others have made the claim, and I have seen them fall. I believe now that you are the one who was prophesied."

I was awe-struck at this pronouncement. Then I remembered from the ancient history texts that Nerevar and Almalexia were married at one time.

This would be VERY hard to explain to Laurenna.

She continued, "I believe you now to be the Nerevarine. Though I have watched others come and go, my belief is that you are the child of prophecy. The time has come for you to reclaim your station. Together we can unite Morrowind once again, free from the Imperial yoke."

"Excuse me." I said, "Reclaim my station?"

"Yes." she replied. "For years, the Chimer and the Dwemer had been at war. The Dwemer spurned the Daedra that the Chimer worshipped, instead placing their faith in their metal creations. It was only when the Nords invaded Resdayn that the two nations were able to join as one, under the leadership of our Nerevar and the Dwarf-King, Dumac. In time, the two generals became blood friends, and on the day that Nerevar and I were wed, Dumac presented us with twin blades, Hopesfire and Trueflame. Each was a magnificent blade, the pinnacle of Dwemer craftsmanship. Their blades burned with an unearthly fire, and the sight of them struck fear into our enemies."

"I understand." I said. "Where are these blades now?" Her face took on a sad look at the question.

"My blade has been kept safe," she replied, "but not so Trueflame, the Blade of Nerevar. It was lost at the battle of Red Mountain."

"So the blade is somewhere in the Red Mountain region then?" I asked.

"No." she replied. "In the battle beneath Red Mountain, Trueflame was shattered, the flame extinguished, and in the confusion, the pieces lost, possibly gathered by those looking for souvenirs of the battle. It is time for you, Nerevarine, to remake the blade and take your place by my side once again."

She handed me a hilt with a piece of a blade still stuck in it.

"I have only one piece of the blade, which I now give to you." she said. "Through my magic, I have been able to determine that the other pieces of the blade are nearby. Find the other two pieces of the blade, and forget the blade anew. Only you may accomplish this, Nerevarine."

"How should I find these pieces?" I asked.

"Look to those in the city that you know and trust for guidance." she replied. "Find those who would have use for items such as this. Prove your mettle to me, Nerevarine, and soon we will stand together once again!"

"Very well." I replied. "I will accept this task. But one more question, if I may: How shall I forge the blade back into one piece?"

She smiled. "The best weaponsmiths in all of Tamriel reside in my city." she said. "When you have recovered the pieces of the blade, seek out the finest among these craftsmen, and press him into our service."

I had a pretty good idea that this person would be the smith in Godsreach. It was that smith that made the glass armor for me much earlier in my adventures, and offered to make special types of armor that no other could make.

Finding these pieces might be easy. Reforging the blade might be easy. Having it re-enchanted might be easy. Explaining to Laurenna that I was attached to this goddess was going to be a mess. Fighting a dragon would be easier.

I returned to my quarters and put the blade on the table to examine it more closely. There wasn't much to it, and definitely no enchantment at all.

Now, the question was: Whom do I ask about the other pieces of the blade? Almalexia said that I should seek out those that I trust. Well, there was only one person that fit that exact description: Plitinius Mero.

Plitinius Mero was wandering around the palace courtyard, scribbling down some notes, as usual. I interrupted him, and asked him if he had any information concerning the Blade of Nerevar.

He responded that his knowledge of the blade itself was somewhat limited, but he suggested I speak with Torasa Aram, curator at the Museum of Ancient Artifacts in Godsreach. He also suggested I speak with the Lady Barenziah, adding that one never knows what she might have heard about rumors and such.

I thanked him for his time and proceeded to Barenziah's quarters. I decided I would check with the Museum later.

I found Lady Barenziah in her quarters, reading a book. Upon my entrance, she stood to greet me. "These are frightening times." she said, mentioning the ashstorm. "What is it you require?"

I told her of my desire to find the missing pieces of the Blade of Nerevar.

"Reforge the Blade of Nerevar?" she asked. "I have heard rumors of the Nerevarine returning...could it be you? I wonder...If what Almalexia says is true, and all the pieces of the blade are here in Mournhold, I have few suggestions for you. Helseth's champion, Karrod, carries a blade that is of ancient Dwemer design. Perhaps you will learn more from him, though it will be difficult to get the information out of Karrod."

"Difficult?" I asked. "Why would it be difficult?"

"He is mute, Eldorf." she replied. "None have ever heard him utter a word. And the only way to get near him is in battle. You will need to convince Helseth to let you duel his champion. Speak with my son...perhaps it can be arranged."

I didn't really want to duel anyone, especially one of the Royal Guard, but it didn't seem as though I would have a choice in the matter.

I bowed gracefully and left for the Throne Room.

I found King Hlaalu Helseth in the Throne Room, grumbling to Tienius about something concerning lose ends, but ended his conversation as soon as I entered the chamber.

"Ah, so you're the one Tienius has been telling us about. We understand you had a slight inconvenience earlier. It appears we were given a bit of misinformation."

"Inconvenience? Misinformation?" I asked.

"He he, yes," he joked, "We understand you were visited by some Dark Brotherhood assassins. A regrettable occurrence. They are a difficult lot, but they do have their usefulness. I'm certain that will no longer be a problem for you."

"Well, what kind of misinformation would that be, your highness?" I asked, FINALLY getting to the bottom of this attack on my life.

He seemed a bit embarrassed that he had to explain his actions. "Yes, we have various sources throughout Vvardenfell that are paid well to provide us with information. Unfortunately, sometimes it proves to be incorrect. Once of our informants had suggested that you could pose a threat to our monarchy. That cannot be allowed, as I'm sure you understand."

I wanted to kill him right then and there, but decided to hold my temper.

He pressed on. "It is never easy for one to assume the throne, especially after the unfortunate set of circumstances that led to our beloved King Llethan's death. There are those who would seek to profit from such events, to take the opportunity to create unrest among the people. There are those, even, who would wish to see us dead."

I thought of the Dark Brotherhood attack upon myself, and wondered how he could have come to such a conclusion, but again, held my temper in check.

"Yes, it is sad about his death." I said, trying to hold out the sarcasm from my tone.

"May his spirit rest among his ancestors." he replied, with a slightly wicked smile. "We did all that could be done for him, but in the end, he seemed to have lost his will to live. He was a great man, and we mourn his loss."

"So, some wish to see you dead?" I asked.

"Does this surprise you?" he asked. "Even now, there are those that would see our head on a pike. What better way to achieve one's goals than to have others remove those that would oppose you? Surely you have some understanding of this? In fact, we have recently been told of a plot against the throne."

"What kind of plot?" I asked.

"Some of my informants have learned of a possible assassination plot against our royal person." he replied. "I would like more information on this. However, I do not want to compromise the safety of my guards or my informant. I believe, however, you would be suitable for this matter."

"I see." I said, realizing that this was a king that didn't seem to trust some of his own people with something as important as this. What would he have done without me? "What is it that needs to be done?" I asked.

"I wish for you to meet an informant of mine at a local cornerclub, The Winged Guar." he said. "You'll find it in Godsreach. He's an Orc, and shouldn't be hard to pick him out. Find him, and ask him about his uncle's farm. He'll know what it means. Then report back to me with your information."

Blast! Another simple task turned into a complex one.

I made my way back to Godsreach, the ashstorm still going strong. I hoped Almalexia wouldn't let this go on for much longer.

Yes, he was an ork, the only one in The Winged Guar, so he certainly wasn't hard to find. His name was Bakh gro-Sham.

"Excuse me." I said, as I walked closer to him. "I was wondering if you could tell me about your uncle's farm."

He took me by the arm to a corner, out of earshot of the other patrons.

"Yeah, I get it." he grumbled, "Code words. Whatever. Here's what you should know: Our king is a paranoid. I know, I know, it's treason to even think that sort of stuff, but it's true. He always thinks someone is out to get him. The man had me checking into a different conspiracy every week for the last month. I keep telling him, 'You're king. You're gonna have enemies!' Does he listen?"

The ork spat on the floor.

"This time, though, there might be something to it. I've found some disturbing information."

"So, someone truly IS going to try to kill the king?" I asked. The ork shook his huge head.

"My sources tell me that there's a plot alright, but not against the king. From what I've been able to gather, there will be an attempt made on the Queen Mother's life. I'm not sure who would want to target her - from what I know, she has no enemies in Mournhold - but that's what my sources are telling me."

Well, I knew that the kind would have enemies, but everyone seemed to like the Queen. How very odd. I figured I'd better report this information to the king immediately.