Fear and Loathing in Vvardenfell

The Census and Excise Office

I walked through the door of the Seyda Neen Census and Excise Office to be greeted by a guard standing near the door, looking bored. His armor was golden and fancy and I wondered why such a prominent guard in the Legion would be stationed here. Perhaps it did make sense though; the empire needs to protect its cash and taxes were a huge source of income for the crown. Still, the guard looked like he had been assigned a job that was well below his pay grade. This man wanted to command battalions and plot movements in battle as if he was playing a grand chess game. No, guard the Census and Excise Office against any and all forms of trouble.

"Hmm? Can I help you?" He yawned and failed horribly trying to stifle it. And then I yawned.

"I need to talk to someone about my taxes. I have questions."

He wanted to yawn again but fought the urge this time. "Through the door, and through another door, and talk to old man Socucius Ergalla. Have a good day." He sat down and started picking at his fingers idly.

The door led outside to a walled area for some reason. And through the next door, back inside, I was greeted by an utterly empty room.

There was a bookcase and a table and a few chairs, but besides this the room was bare. It seemed like the Census and Excise Office had just moved out or was still in the process of moving in.

The exit out of the room branched right and left, and to the right a set of stairs led down to a storage room. No one was around, so I went down the stairs and noticed the storage room was also bare. Sure, there were barrels and sacks, but everything had seemingly been picked clean. Tiny crumbs of dried herbs and plants littered the ground, but nothing usable could be found.

Why was this place so damn empty?

Back up the stairs away from the storage room, I took the hallway down to a third door and opened it to discover a guard. In front of me an elderly man with white hair circling around the top of his bald head greeted me.

"Ah, yes! Hello! How can I help you!" Like Fargoth his voice was much higher and grating to the nerves than you'd expect from his physical appearance. Was this just something to do with the Seyda Neen people? Still, something about him was immensely more likeable than Fargoth even if I couldn't put a finger on it. Maybe he wore his nasally voice proudly and didn't toss it around in an annoying fashion like Fargoth did? He seemed much more humble at least.

"Hi. My name is Clyde. Clyde Frumgruel if you can believe it. Yes, my parents hated me. Named me while they were drunk shortly after I was born." I shook my head. "I'm looking for an Argonian, a friend of mine, I was told he passed through here a few days earlier."

The man scowled at the mention of the Argonian. "An Argonian, huh? Why. Yes. I might've seen an Argonian in the past weeks. Do you know this Argonain's name?"

"No. He's not really a friend I guess, more of an acquaintance really. He owes me gambling money, that sly bastard."

"Ha. Sly bastard indeed. Clyde, did you notice the emptiness of the room you just passed through?" He still scowled as he talked about the Argonian.

"Yes. Is the office moving? It looks like you guys are in the process of moving."

He shook his head and sighed. "No. Of course not. This Argonian, the one you're looking for for gambling debts, arrived on a ship from Cyrodiil. We had orders from the Empire to 'check him into Vvardenfell.' He seemed innocent and kind enough, if only a slight bit...unhinged. Muttering to himself occasionally." He waved his hand. "Anyways, we had him set to go, and he left. Bowed thankfully on the way out. Closed the door politely behind him. And then, and then he took everything from the room on the way out. Everything he could carry."