It's getting close to Christmas, and I'll be away on Holiday to New York for a few days, so I decided to post this now so that you know I am at work. Enjoy!



The suffocating darkness was broken only by the soft blue glows of unnaturally luminescent crystals. The high vaulted ceilings may have leant a feeling of grandeur before, but now felt strangely claustrophobic, as if the walls would close in and crush you at any moment. I was gliding softly through the blackness, guided only by the winking blue lights, following them through what seemed a maze of corridors and passageways.

Suddenly, the walls opened, and in front of me stood a grand chamber, it would have been spectacular had it not been so sinister. The entire chamber was bathed in red light, and strange, black figures were moving about, neither knowing nor caring where their feet carried them. In the center stood a high raised platform, and there another figure stood, emblazoned in armor that seemed sucked the light in from around him, and I was moving towards him. Try as I might, I could not fight the savage need to know whom this man was. I wanted to cry out, scream for help, but my tongue had become iron.

Closer…closer…ever closer I inched, feeling the icy metal flood to my limbs. The figure turned to face me, his eyes glowed a fiery red…


----



Ice cold sweat drenched my face as my head soared from my pillow, my breathing shallow and ragged. Feeling something in my hand, I looked down to see my steel dagger in my hand… how did it get there? Did I pull it out of my pack in my slumber?

I dropped the dagger to the floor, returning my head to the pillow. All a dream, I thought, just a dream, another dream. Calm down Derelas, it’s nothing to worry about. Old news.


----


The Imperial City was only half a day’s journey from Wawnet Inn, as the publican told me over breakfast. Just follow the high street out of town to the Great West Bridge over Lake Rumare, and follow the road from there straight to the gates. It was a lovely clear day outside, and the bridge was not hard to find when I left, the white marble spires framing the road practically burned new holes in my eyes.

The morning bustle was only just beginning as I made my way forth. A balding fisherman was making his way home with his morning catch of some of the biggest Slaughterfish I’ve ever seen. Many of the travelers who slept the night here were gathering their horses and pack mules to continue on to wherever it was they were going. Many others still were filing into the small stores nearby. It was a simple, yet elegant, vista of pastoral harmony.

Forcing my eyes away from the scene, I directed my feet toward the Great Blinding Bridge and made a silent note to thank Y’ffre if I could still see after crossing.

The bridge led to a switchback road up the steep incline of the Imperial Isle, many rocks blocking my view of the city proper. It was just after midday when I finally crested the hill. I was greeted with… more whitewashed walls. It might have been an awe-inspiring sight had I been able to see anything at all, but I ended up having to walk the whole rest of the way with my arm up shielding my eyes because of how brightly polished the marble was. I know this city is supposed to be the shining beacon of the Empire and all, but wow... you think you might be taking this a bit too far? I was quite thankful to finally reach the gates proper, just to be able to see again.

Once I closed distance with the walls, though, the blinding marble gave way to gray granite. Still not to be outdone, the stone was impeccably carved and rose into an imposing Gothic archway housing a raised portcullis and a well-polished bronze gate flanked by two men in flashy steel armor, flaming red feather plumes rising from their helmets… Imperial Legion Centurions.

“Welcome to Cyrodiil City.” One of them voiced to me. They then marched in unison to the great bronze doors and threw them open with an impressive flourish. “Enjoy your stay, citizen.”

I passed through the gates to a scene unlike I’d ever seen before. Instead of the peaceful maritime bustle of Weye, here it was an outright cacophony of voices, footsteps, shrieks, and hoof beats as people large and small jostled this way and that about their daily lives. The huge crowd, from the super-rich in fine linens to the street urchins with no more than stained sack cloth, pattered every which way you could think of past white marble buildings so tall they seemed to wall away the sky. Such a dizzying sight made me begin to wonder if I could ever find the Arcane at all, so I ducked into a shaded back street to pull out my map.

“Looking for something, citizen?” A passing legionary inquired.

“Yes, I’m looking for the Arcane University.” I responded, hoping this guy might be able to make some sense out of this madhouse.

“You’re in Talos Plaza," the legionary told me, indicating a gold sign nearby:

“Talos Plaza. IMPERIVM AD VITAM AETERNAM”

“Just follow Septim Way through Talos Plaza, take a right on Green Emperor Way, follow it around until you reach Stendarr Loop, and it will take you straight to the University.”

Follow who-da, take a right on what-da until I reach where-da? Thankfully, the guard noticed my blank look and handed me a new map, this time of the city itself, and noted everything he told me on it.

“Thanks.”

“We’re here to serve.” The guard brought two fingers to his helmet in salute before clanking away. I started to wonder why guards weren’t this helpful all the time, given my experience at the customs office on my way in from Valenwood, but soon did a double take. This was the Imperial City, after all. The Empire does have an image to maintain.

It took another hour just to find Green Emperor Way. I got lost twice in the crowds and at one point found myself filing my way down Septim Ave. rather than Septim Way, causing me to mumble curses under my breath for the Empire’s shameless lack of originality as I turned back. I eventually fought my way through the chaos of Talos Plaza, and the astounding noise of the crowd died instantly as I crossed the threshold of Green Emperor Way, giving way to a subdued, formal silence, and I felt a strange, liquid-like sensation pass over my skin, probably a spell to help keep the noise out.

“Please show your respect for the Imperial Palace by keeping your voice down.” A guard in blazing white armor decorated with dragons told me as I entered, and I joined the now near-silent crowd making their way along the road. Most of the time my view of White Gold Tower was blocked by the many high-rising buildings, mostly fine hotels and apartments for the city’s wealthiest citizens surrounding the Palace Road, but every so often I would pass a colossal iron gate barring the way to the Palace proper, and was able to steal a glance of the immense structure beyond the veil. It seemed to rise forever towards the heavens, perhaps ascending to touch the face of Aetherius itself, the marble walls were so well polished and maintained it was no wonder I was blinded on my way in, and almost completely blocked by the rest of the city, I could make out the royal graves. Such a sight, already breathtaking from here, must inspire awe when seen from outside the walls; a way of saying: “We are the most powerful society in this land today. To challenge us is to challenge the will of the Nine themselves.”

I felt myself smiling faintly as I turned onto Stendarr Loop.


----


Two shrouded figures crested a flight of stairs bathed in crimson light, where another shadowy figure sat upon a throne of black stone signaled them halt. They obeyed, and then sunk into a low bow.

“What news?” His voice rang with command as he spoke.

“Derelas just arrived yesterday.”

“And now?”

“He left for the Imperial City this morning.”

The cloaked man frowned, this might complicate things a bit; our kind is not welcome there. But no matter, he won’t stay forever.

“What else did you discover?”

“He’s searching for them, and he wants the Mages Guild’s help.”

Mages Guild? The shadowed man smiled, his red eyes lit aflame with amusement at the very idea. The Mages were fools. They had no idea what they were allowing to happen under their very noses. To think they could keep us at bay locked away like dogs. They would be in for a rude awakening, and soon.

“Good. Keep an eye on him. I want to know the instant he leaves.”

“As you wish, Lord.”

The two shrouded figures bowed again, then turned to leave themselves. The red-eyed man smiled to himself. Soon the pieces would be in place. The 433rd Year of the Third Era would soon become forever etched in history.

Half a day from Wawnet to the Imp City? I like the extra size and breadth you give Cyrodiil. It makes it feel more like a real place, rather than a game. Likewise with the description you gave the village. One can see that far more than two people live there!

Your description of the size and sheer chaos of the city itself was wonderful. Derelas getting lost in it really underscores that. Being a country boy in the big city for the first time, that is no surprise. Especially when the Imperials cheat with Septim Ave and Septim Way!

but my tongue had become iron.
A wonderful metaphor!

I directed my feet toward the Great Blinding Bridge and made a silent note to thank Y’ffre if I could still see after crossing.
A delightfully tongue-in-cheek thought by Derelas!

Follow who-da, take a right on what-da until I reach where-da?
Once more Derelas' ironic sense of humor shows itself!

Finally, a very intriguing dream by Derelas, coupled by the ending scene. Are those necromancers perhaps? Maybe a certain King of certain Worms? It takes a simple thing like a country boy going to the city, and adds in a touch of menace and mystery that leaves one wanting more. Which is another way of saying: "Story, good, more!"

nits:
emblazoned in armor that seemed sucked the light in from around him
I think you lost something from a previous edit here. Perhaps you meant something like:
emblazoned in armor that seemed to suck the light in from around him


Ice cold sweat drenched my face as my head rocketed from my pillow, my breathing shallow and ragged. Feeling something in my hand, I looked down to see my steel dagger in my hand… how did it get there? Did I pull it out of my pack in my slumber?
I dropped the dagger to the floor, returning my head to the pillow. All a dream, I thought, just a dream, another dream. Calm down Derelas, it’s nothing to worry about. Old news.
I think the forum ate the space between these two paragraphs. It can do that when you copy and paste.


A balding fisherman was making his way home with his morning catch of some of the biggest Slaughterfish I’ve ever seen, many of the travelers who slept the night here were gathering their horses and pack mules to continue on to wherever it was they were going, and many others still were filing into the small stores nearby, it was a simple, yet elegant, vista of pastoral harmony.
This is an incredibly long sentence. I think you can easily break it up into several sentences. For example:
Here a balding fisherman was making his way home with his morning catch of some of the biggest Slaughterfish I’ve ever seen. There many of the travelers who slept the night here were gathering their horses and pack mules to continue on to wherever it was they were going. All the while many others were still filing into the small stores nearby. It was a simple, yet elegant, vista of pastoral harmony.


Imperial Legion Centurions.
This is a purely flavor-based comment, and feel free to completely disregard it depending on how you want to portray Cyrodiil and build you style-sheet. IRL Roman centurions were junior officers. Commanding formations starting at 80-100 men. So that is like having two modern lieutenants or captains standing guard at the gate. Regular soldiers were legionaries, or if you want to be really precise, munifex. You can find a whole list of ranks and other info here.


here it was an outright cacophony of voices, footsteps, shrieks, and hoof beats as people large and small.
I think you meant to have more at the end of the sentence?


I passed through the gates to a scene unlike I’d ever seen before. Instead of the peaceful maritime bustle of Weye, here it was an outright cacophony of voices, footsteps, shrieks, and hoof beats as people large and small. The huge crowd, from the super-rich in fine linens to the street urchins with no more than stained sack cloth, pattered every which way you could think of past whit marble buildings so tall they seemed to wall away the sky. Such a dizzying sight made me begin to wonder if I could ever find the Arcane at all, so I ducked into a shaded back street to pull out my map.
“Looking for something, citizen?” A passing legionnaire inquired.

Looks like another eaten space here.


“Looking for something, citizen?” A passing legionnaire inquired.
Once again, a purely flavor observation that you can feel free to completely ignore. Roman soldiers were called legionaries. Members of the French Foreign Legion are called legionnaires (as the word is French). The game uses legionnaire, in spite of otherwise going out of their way to pattern the Imperial Legion after the Roman legions. Many people prefer the Latin legionary over the French legionnaire, especially if they are using other Latin words like centurion or tribune. Just something to consider for your style-sheet.


perhaps ascending to touch the face of Mundus itself
A lore note here, Mundus is the planet Nirn, its moons, and the planets around them. I think perhaps you meant touch Aetherius instead?


“Derelas just arrived yesterday.”
“And now?”
The hungry forum got another of your spaces.

Nits are picked (and another you didn't list was fixed, as well, Latin alphabet doesn't have a U).

As for the Centurions, they aren't actually Centurions, they are OPTIOS SECVNDVA (second lieutenant), but the ranks are close enough that Dere simply mixed them up. They are there as part of the immaculate image the Empire attempts to give the outside world.

Ahh, so Thomas finally starts writing! Welcome!

Off for the Holidays now, but will read more later.

You have brought the Imperial City to life in a way I never could!!! Awesome, Riveting Write !!!!!!!!!!

Welcome to the Arena! What a wonderful start! You have very gently told us that Derelas is a Bosmer, recently arrived from Valenwood. We have so many lovely leading ladies around here, that it is refreshing to have a leading character who is not a ghurrl!!!

And one with a mystery no less! Evil figures cloaked in black intent on destroying Nirn as we know it?

I was gliding softly through the blackness, guided only by the winking blue lights, following them through what seemed a maze of corridors and passageways.
This was wonderfully evocative.

I thoroughly enjoyed your pastoral description of life outside the IC.

Nits? My goodness, dear SubRosa has done such a thoughtfully thorough effort already. I would certainly keep an eye on those sentences, and tend to favor short/crisp to long/meandering.

The huge crowd, from the super-rich in fine linens to the street urchins with no more than stained sack cloth, pattered every which way you could think of past whit marble buildings so tall they seemed to wall away the sky.
This one is a clear cut typo (white).

My remaining comments below are purely subjective style considerations, so please feel free to ignore them if they don't suit your intent or purpose.

The Suffocating darkness was broken only by the soft blue glows of unnaturally luminescent crystals.
Is there a reason you capitalized Suffocating here?

Ice cold sweat drenched my face as my head rocketed from my pillow,
Rocketed popped me right out of Tamriel due its suggestion of anachronism. Would you consider some variation of shoot or jerk?

I know this city is supposed to be the shining beacon of the Empire and all, but jeez, you think you might be taking this a bit too far?
Similarly here, only due to lore. 'Jeez' and other similar sounding expressions like 'gee whiz' are rooted in the name Jesus. If it is your intent to blend cultures and lore with a strong tongue in cheek style, that is fine. 'Jeez' makes it very clear you and your character are rooted in modern earth culture, and that may be your intent. Otherwise, you might consider 'but by Y'ffre, you think. . . .'

I ninja'd the typo before you finished posting.

As for the style viewpoint, I have to say I agree with you on those. Thankfully, easy to fix for all of them. Just a quick vocabulary adjustment.

As for the mystery, that is one for you to ponder over Christmas, since I'm going to be off in New York for the next few days (hip hip hooray for Christmas Vacation), I will sadly be unable to write. This was mostly a teaser chapter to get the ball rolling, but don't fret, I have the long-term goals of this Fic well in hand.

I love the way you bring the Imperial City to life, especially the light and noise. I am a fan of the name Cyrodiil City, it delighted me to hear the Centurion use it. I am hooked!

Postcards from the Imperial City (to tide over until I finally manage to finish part 2)

Click to enlarge:


Talos Plaza


The Palace gates


Arboretum Central Fountain


EDIT 1: Updated images with sharpened versions

Mods in use:
-Better Cities, Better Imperial City: Extra IC Architecture
-Let the People Drink: New fountains
-Oblivion Graphics Extender: Color mood and Depth of Field effect
-MTGR's Texture Pack: New, more vibrant textures

Duplicate

Neat pics! What mod are you using to change the city? I see extra "stuff" that is not there in vanilla.

I did notice that the pics look a little fuzzy, like they have a soft focus. Are you running the game in a lower resolution than your desktop's native resolution? That is the main culprit in such cases.

Thanks for the beautiful screenies! Wonderfully subtle and tasteful mods you have going there.

The screenies are great.

I love that fountain !! Did "Better Cities" add that? Awesome screenies, they could actually be postcards of the IC !!! Great job on those !!

@SubRosa: The focus problem was most likely an artifact from the AA shader I was using at the time (you can't use any AA with OBGE, even forced). I've given the pics a quick run through a sharpening filter, so that should help a bit.

@Acadian: Thank you! Tastefulness is what I strive for. I'm actually running the game with flat zero body replacers right now, if you can believe me. I find it helps keep me immersed when not every girl is a supermodel, nor does it give me any pleasure to view nude-shaped pixels. I prefer to indulge in a different kind of pleasurable image, and you're looking at it.

@Zalphon: Thank you. Say, those boots on your lich avy are awfully familiar. I think I've seen them in my game somewhere...

@mALX: The fountains are from Let The People Drink, which also adds an aqueduct leading to the IC from Charcoal Cave.

@All: Thank you very much for your kind words and sharp eyes. I think I'd better post this now so I don't go OCD on it again and rewrite it for the umpteenth time.

Next: Derelas arrives at the Arcane University, and meets a new friend...

Chapter 1-2: Recommended Assistance

“Welcome to the Arcane University. Are you looking to join the Mages Guild?”

“Maybe.” I replied. “How would I do so?”

“Just that way.” The ironclad battlemage pointed towards a large spire rising from the center of the courtyard, the many magical lanterns hung throughout the surrounding trees illuminating it a deep fuchsia. “The Enrollment desk will have everything you’re looking for.”

I nodded thanks and strode inside the tower.

The circular room within buzzed with activity. Many lines of people were gathered for various services, the longest of which was for “Financial.” Many more clad in green and occasionally blue robes were milling about the foyer. I made my way to the line for Enrollment, where I was eventually gestured over by a middle-aged Altmer.

“Anything I can help you with today?” It was rather amazing how fast he spoke.

“Yes, how would you go about enrolling in the University?”

“Fill out this application.” He handed me a small booklet of parchment between (sort of) syllables. The front was simple enough; mostly personal information, but one look at the second page instantly perplexed me.

“Recommendations?” I asked the Altmer behind the desk.

“Take a leaflet from the pile here.” He replied. “Anything else?”

“Umm… that’s all for now, I think.”

“Next!”

I left the desk carrying the application and leaflet titled “Recommendations: Furthering your Magical Career” and began to read on my way out of the building…


A true scholar of magic understands the need to put his education to practice. Long-winded lectures by crotchety professors can only get you so far in this world, and now the Guild of Mages offers support for up-and-coming Associates and continuing Apprentices alike to further their practical knowledge of the Arcane Arts in the form of Guild Recommendations. These are simple activities chosen by the magisters of local branch chapter houses (you may find one in every major city in Cyrodiil) designed to test vim, vigor, and dedication to the guild’s everyday work. Remember, the study of magic is not restricted to the walls of the University. It is an ever-continuing endeavor, for the arts of Magic are forever.

A Recommendation consists of a set of tasks that will be determined by whatever assistance may be rendered to the magister’s chapter on that particular day. Upon completion of whatever goals may be set by your magister, said magister will provide written proof of completion. Of course, we here at the University understand that proper incentive is quite helpful in affirming the young mind’s dedication…

*thud*

“Watch it, tree-hugger!”

“Sorry…”

I had collided with a tall and rather shady-looking Nord. His back was now fast retreating, so I gave a sigh of exasperation and decided to find somewhere to sit down to finish reading.

We here at the University understand that proper incentive is quite helpful in affirming the young mind’s dedication towards their goals, so we have outlined a number of benefits for receiving Recommendations. Do please note, however, that only one Recommendation may be applied for and/or received from any chapter.

Associates and Apprentices:

Each recommendation you attain will grant you discounted tuition to the Arcane University. If you manage to obtain five or more, you will receive full scholarship as thanks for your dedication to the Guild. We have provided special forms within your application for this purpose, but you may also choose to have your proof of completion mailed to you. Please contact Gold Horse Courier Services for more information on the latter option.

Evokers and higher:

Each recommendation you complete will grant you discounted guild services, be it spellcrafting, enchantment, or combat training. Those who complete five or more recommendations may receive a grant in the study of your choice*.

*All requests subject to approval by Arch-Mage Hannibal Traven before consideration.

Signed: Raminus Polus, University Headmaster.

As I finished reading, a huge load lifted from my mind. It might actually be possible for me to attend, and without worrying about loans and debts piling up! I slipped the brochure and the application into my pack and left the campus. It would be best if I asked about these Recommendations at the guild chapter houses, since they provide them in the first place. A quick glance at my map told me the town nearest the Imperial City was called Chorrol, located along the Black Road. My mind made up about how I was going to finance my education; and satisfied I had enough information to get on with, I began to make my way back to Wawnet.


----


I arrived back at Weye as the sun began to sink below the western mountains and the telltale orange glow of Masser peeked out from the northeast, bathing the land in their combined orange glow. I took a moment to drink in the splendor.

“Pretty neat view?”

I turned to find a Dunmer girl in leathers was standing next to me. Her ashen skin clashed vividly with raven-black hair set aflame with crimson by the evening light. It was an almost ethereal sight, that of a woman who was blazingly openhearted, yet independent and secluded. It felt as if her spirit might be in turmoil…. Ehh, not important right now, Dere; she’s talking to you right now, so you might want to talk back.

“Yeah… very orange.” I said back to her simply.

“True. A little romantic, maybe; sun setting over a manor village, smoke curling from the chimneytops…”

“…A young lady standing admiring it with a man at her side.”

The lady turned to look at me, a faint smile crossing her lips.

“Took the words right out of my mouth.” She replied, walking towards the door of the Inn. “Shall we go inside? Grab a bite?”

“Why not. Too nice an evening to spend alone.” I quipped, following her inside.

It was very cozy within the Inn’s walls with a large fire merrily crackling away behind the bar and several whole pigs sizzling over it on skewers, filling the room with the savory smell of roast pork. It was very busy tonight; the inn was packed with road-weary travelers. The female Dunmer I met outside sat down at the bar then looked back to me. I took a seat next to her at the bar, and the well-endowed publican promptly greeted us and took our food orders. We didn’t speak much until dinner arrived; even then, it was she that started conversation once again.

“Not one to talk much, are you?”

“Not really, idle chat isn’t exactly one of my strong suits.” Best to be honest with her, I thought. Living a lonely life can do that to you.

“OK, so how about I break the ice then? What brings you here to Weye? I doubt you’re here just to admire the lake.”

“I was visiting the Arcane University, up in the Imperial City.” I responded.

“Interesting, I never took you for a city boy, why go there? Country life too dull for you?”

“Well, you know, furthering of knowledge, exciting opportunities, and who knows? Maybe I’ll get to see someone magick a horse into the Arch-Mages quarters?”

“Funny enough, someone actually did that before….”

“No joke?”

“Nope, and not a happy day for horsie, either. Probably destroyed half the furniture before they finally managed to get it down.” She explained, her grin matching the laughter in her eyes. “But really, why were you there? You look pretty fresh out of the Elder Woods, I can’t imagine what you’d want in such a crowded binge as Cyrodiil City.”

“Well, since you asked nicely… I’m mostly looking to study the Ayleids.”

“And what in Y’ffre’s Great Woods would make you want that?” She asked with a barely disguised hint of disgust in her voice.

“Well, my parents held an interest in them. Sorta felt like following in their footsteps. What, is there something wrong with my interest?”

“No, nothing with you, with the Ayleids.” She replied, the note of revulsion in her eyes and voice ever present, “The beauty of their structures was only matched by the heartlessness of their culture. Thank the Gods they were conquered.”

“A little harsh, don’t you think? I mean, who deserves to be erased from existence?” I asked her, hoping that I was missing something.

“I know what I’ve seen, and they did…” She started, then her voice trailed off. “Say, where are you’re parents, anyway?” She suddenly asked, “Why are you traveling all by yourself?”

I turned away from looking at her. This was not something I wanted to talk about; it was still a little painful to think about.

“Sorry, bad question.” She quickly responded.

“Thanks.” I replied before quickly changing the subject. “Anyways, where do you hail? You hardly seem the city type yourself, miss forester.”

“Oh, so you noticed! Was I that obvious?” She giggled.

“Well, not everyone shares dinner and chatter in rawhide leathers, that’s for sure.”

“True.” She replied. “Well, I’m Cyrodiil-born, myself. I was born by Moonbind under the sign of the Shadow.”

“Moonbind?” I inquired. I never heard that term before, though I was fairly certain it had something to do with Nirn’s dual moons.

“When Secunda passes in front of Masser.” She explained. “That along with my birthsign is seen as a sign of good luck among my home village of Faregyl.”

“I don’t think I’ve heard of a place called Faregyl before…”

“Well, probably not, Faregyl’s a pretty small village. The company was a little… iffy. There’s this one guy, Alix Lencolia, he kept bringing people round and sparring with them all day long… fun to watch, but it gets really annoying listening to swords clash all day long. All things considered, though, I liked it there.”

“Given a birth like yours. You must have been quite the sneaky one.”

At this she gave a small laugh. “Plenty of the farmers back home are still wondering where some of their precious gardening tools went. I wasn’t even the only prankster there, and nowhere close to the funniest.”

“So then why’d you leave if you had so much fun there?”

She cocked her head and shrugged along with her response, “Got bored.” This reply immediately struck me as pretty flimsy, as if she were trying to hide something. Or maybe she was just being coy.

“In a village so close to your element?”

“Well, I enjoy my solitude.”

OK, now definitely trying to hide something. I quickly dropped the subject, turning away to continue eating.

“Drunken louts.” I suddenly heard her say. I turned to look at her, and she was looking back towards the dining area, where a large number of people had gathered around a table and were making a huge amount of noise.

“Really? They don’t seem too bad right now.”

“Maybe now, but in five minutes, some barfight could start or…”

*CRASH*
“REALLY!!!”

An almighty frenzy shook us out of our discussion as a table was overturned, sending several tankards and plates flying across the room. Two people had started a drunken brawl, and a Dunmer was pummeling someone I couldn’t make out with sickening force, each blow striking as hard as a smith’s hammer on an anvil. A second crash told me the door of the inn had flown open, and a Legionary, clanking loudly in his plate mail, rushed to the scene to break up the fight. He grabbed the Dunmer and nearly threw him across the room to remove him from whoever he was grinding into the stonework. The Dunmer responded by rushing the guard and slamming his fist into his chest, or rather, his armor, as communicated by the resounding *GONG!*. The guard responded with a heavily armored elbow to the face, and a loud crack signaled the Dunmer’s jaw breaking as he fell to the floor unconscious. The guard then grabbed him by the ankles and wrists, lifted him over his shoulders like a hunter would a carcass, and carried him away… to the prisons, no doubt. A second guard then arrived and hauled away the the other brawler, who had passed out after the Dunmer was taken. She was a Redguard, her gray hair heavily matted, and face heavily lined and scarred. She had the look of someone who was ready to fall apart at the seams.

My eyes met my companion’s, who had raised an eyebrow….

“You see? What did I tell you?” She said.

“Well, there goes my appetite.” I replied, pushing my plate away, with her following suit.

“We should probably get some rooms before they all disappear.” She said, waving the publican over and handing her some gold. She then turned to me with raised eyebrows.

“Mine’s already paid.” I quickly answered. “Well, it was nice talking.” I told her as I got up to head back to my room.

“Yeah, it was.” She replied. “And who knows, maybe I’ll see you again?”

“Maybe you me, but I’d probably struggle with that, given your birthrights and whatnot.”

“Then I’ll be sure to announce my presence with trumpets and drums.” She joked back, grinning.

“Thanks…” Came my bashful reply.

“By the way, I never did get a name.”

“Oh, it’s Derelas.” I told her.

“Fathrian Dresdan, but you can just call me Faith. Good night.” She turned to leave, but then turned back.

“Hey, I thought you said you weren’t very good at talking?”

“Sometimes I surprise myself.” I said simply, prompting a chuckle from Faith.

“Well, good night.” She finished, turning away and making her way upstairs.

“Night.” I called back, rising from the bar to retreat to my own room.


----


Screenshots (Click to enlarge)

Panoramic view over the Rumare Basin:


Sunset over Weye:


Mods in use: Please don't ask

EDIT: Well, because there seems to be an interest in the new Weye, the mod is AFK_Weye by Dwip.

The scene as students are signing up for classes at the Arcane was AWESOME !!!! You brought realism and life into the Arcane - HUGE!!!!

Your ability to set the mood of the story through dialogue is proven in this chapter. Details and descriptions are perfect !!! I love the idea of Weye being a village, it makes sense that small townships around the largest city would be more than 2 building size - I love it ... but won't ask...

Gee, I wonder who the Faregyl prankster was? Or the one that placed the horse in Arch Mage Traven's quarters? ROFL !!! I loved that !!!! (infamy = +2, ROFL)

Awesome chapter, you keep intriguing with this story, and your ability to take "Postcard Quality" screenshots may even surpass Victoria !!!

the longest of which was for “Financial.”
Yep, that is higher education!

I like your version of the guild recommendations, with them being an optional way of making tuition cheaper, rather than a requirement for every person who wanted to enter the Arcane U. The latter idea has always seemed silly to me.

Ehh, not important right now, Dere; she’s talking to you right now, so you might want to talk back.
“Yeah… very orange.” I said back to her simply.
This was a wonderful little piece!

The lady turned to look at me, a faint smile crossing her lips.
For a moment I thought Teresa had entered the DF. Then I remembered that she was a Dunmer!

I wasn’t even the only prankster there, and nowhere close to the funniest.
Hmmm, now I wonder who that other prankster might have been?

a female Redguard with blinding white hair
Sounds like someone was dissing the legion!


I know that Weye mod! I cannot recall the name, but I saw how it turns Weye into an actual village, instead of one house and an inn. Very cool!

To all who previously read:

After a bit of collusion with Haute Ecole Rider, the fight scene has been edited. I'd suggest re-reading it, as several details are now different.

Julian as a loutish drunk in the bar !!! Woo Hoo !!!

Don't worry about posting slowly if that is what it takes. I'm just so glad to see you continuing this!

Yes, referencing characters from other fanfics can be great fun, but does indeed take careful coordination with the other writer.

I very much liked how you depicted the bustle of enrolling at the University. Likewise, I think your treatment of recommendations was excellent and well-reasoned. A nice touch to have Derelas walking along reading and bump into someone - what a clever way to break up the reading!

As I was approaching the end of this episode, I started thinking. C'mon, dummy - get her name! Within a couple paragraphs you fixed me right up!

Faith sounds fun and their dinner provided some rich background to the world in which your story takes place. I hope Derelas sees her again.

Hmm, seems like perhaps a trip to Chorrol. Maybe some guild recommendations. Or possibly Derelas will be drawn off course?

@mALX: Kittens will be kittens, that much is certain. I'm glad you enjoyed Dere's visit the Arcane University, I'm sure it brings back many humble memories, I know it did for several other people.

@SubRosa: Faith was originally intended to be a Bosmer, but I decided against it because I felt that would make her a bit too much like Teresa. I then tried switched her to Dunmer, and my original introduction for her fit rather well, so I took it.

@Acadian: I really didn't like the way recommendations were handled in the game, and since this story is intended to convey a sense of atmosphere to the world, it just had to go. You'll probably see a lot more of this in the future, as nonlinear game mechanics don't tend to agree well with linear storytelling.

@All: Introductions are the hardest part of the writing process for me, so now that the dreaded first chapter is finally done, things should be a bit easier for me from here on out, and you should see me updating a bit more frequently.

Next: Derelas leaves for Chorrol, and a rather unpleasant encounter brings a few memories back...







“Run and catch, run and catch, the lamb is caught in the Blackberry patch.”

The eerie singsong voice floated through the black halls, every so often lit with glinting blue crystals. It was drawing me, an insatiable urge to find it washed through my body.

“Blackberry falls, Blackberry falls…”

Suddenly my eyes were filled with crimson light as I turned the corner. A black figure stood at the entrance to the room… she was singing. I was hearing her voice.

“…sweet child of mine the Night recalls.”

I closed the distance, and she looked up. She smiled to me; her eyes alight with joy. I moved in closer, I knew that face…

Her face then became one of pain; I heard the sound of metal cutting flesh as a glinting blade penetrated through her stomach. Behind her was another figure, pitch black, except for the eyes… red eyes, the color of blood.

“Mother!”

I was in my bed at Wawnet, once again sweating ice. Another nightmare, such a wonderful start to the day… they’ve been getting worse ever since I arrived. I was beginning to wonder if I would ever be able to sleep at all in the near future. These thoughts did nothing to help my mood as I dressed and made my way downstairs to breakfast before leaving.

Yesterday’s wonderfully clear and warm summer day had given way to a light cloud cover as I left the Inn after breakfast. It was business as usual around Weye this morning, except the fisherman I saw yesterday was noticeably limping and had apparently reeled in empty. He made a beeline for his small cottage, quickly shutting the door behind him, as I turned west towards the Black Road bound for Chorrol.

I was passing a large network of stone ruins once the sun had fully risen. Many vines of deep blue morning glory accented their crumbling walls of yellowing stone and breathed new life into the abandoned crenellations. I took a moment to drink in the sight of the ruined keep, an ancient relic from a time long gone. A slight breeze played my ears as I passed, and I could almost hear the rowdy cries of soldiers, the soft nickering of horses, and the ringing of the hammer on the anvil. In fact, I could hear something now… sounded like footsteps.

A Khajiit clad in hardened furs dashed out from behind the walls. He took one look at me, and then his hand swiftly dove to the haft of a mace swinging by his side.

“All right, hold up right there! This is a robbery, your money or your life!” He snarled. Wonderful, my first journey out on my own and I’m being held up…. First nightmares, now robbers… what did I do to deserve this?

“Look, I really don’t have the time or patience to deal with some sleaze who’s so ashamed of his own pelt he wears another’s. Just get out of my way.” I had spoken without really thinking it through, but didn’t care. It just felt good to rain on his parade.

“Bite your tongue, Wood Elf, before I smash in your jaw!” Came his bitter reply. I responded by drawing my sword.

“Try me.” I shot back, my mind racing about what was coming.

“Hey! What’s going on here?!” A shout came from behind. The Khajiit responded by quickly snarling, “don’t even think I’m finished with you,” and dashing off. A loud clanking behind me announced the arrival of a Legion patrol. I sheathed my sword and turned to face him.

“What was that all about?” He asked me immediately. I responded quickly, telling him about my assailant, what he looked like, and where he went.

“Fan out, men, he can’t have gone far.” At this, three more legionaries on horseback urged their mounts forward. The soldier on foot then turned back to me, apparently having more to say.

“You’ll want to be careful if you’re traveling alone. I don’t know what’s going on, but we’ve been getting increasing reports of muggings and robberies along the roads. Nothing we can’t handle, but you just keep that in mind. Stay vigilant, stay safe, citizen.”

“Well, thanks for coming along before that got ugly.” I replied back. “And for the warning.”

“We serve and protect. Carry on.” The soldier finished, turning away and mounting his horse. “And don’t worry about that highwayman, we’ll find him. Just stick to the roads as much as you can.” He called out as he rode away.

I put my back against the morning glory-overgrown wall and sat down to let my mind catch up with me. The moment I saw that mace drawn, my mind flashed back to when I was sixteen…


----


“The key to being the better fighter is to always be one step ahead of your opponent.” My father had brought me outside and down to the floor of the forest from our home high in the tree canopies. He had brought with him several different weapons, daggers, swords, axes, and maces.

“Where did you get all these?” I asked him.

“Later, son. Right now, concentrate on your technique. Remember the basics, don’t lose your footing, and above all, try to predict what I’m about to do.” He had a large wooden stick in his hand, which he was using as a makeshift club. I held my wooden dagger tight, palms beginning to sweat, silently begging it not to slip free like last time.

He swung the club downward and came at me low. I quickly hopped back, dodging the blow, and lunged in to counter as he recovered his swing. Sidestepping my lunge, he brought the club around and swung low again, aiming for my knees and forcing me to jump to avoid him. Once my feet hit the ground again, he was swinging for me again, this time high, aiming for the arms. I ducked down to avoid the blow…

“Not good! I have the momentum now.” Dad called out to me as made me sidestep a vertical swing. “You’ll need to get out of this before I tire you out!”

Yeah, thanks for the obvious advice, what do you think I’m trying to do right now? I frantically checked for a way to turn the tables on him, and noticed him shifting his weight to his rear foot. As quick as I could, so to catch him on his recovery swing, I hooked my leg around his, and before he could fully brace himself, kicked it out.

The resulting disappearance of his weighted foot caused him to overbalance and fall to the ground. I quickly followed him with my dagger, and plunged it towards his heart…

“Gotcha!”

It was over. I had won the day, and Dad had a huge grin on his face.

“Excellent! Remember, keep ahead of your foe, try to predict his next move, and do what you can to counter it, like you did there with taking my leg out before I could finish putting my weight on it. Now, let’s try again.”


----


“Your swordplay is definitely improving,” Dad said. It was evening now, and we were enjoying a dinner of roast rabbit together in the cool evening air. “You make me so proud of you, son.”

“Thanks, Dad,” I replied. I was still curious about something, though. “Now, are you going to tell me where all those weapons you brought out came from?”

“Oh, those!” He softly exclaimed… “Well, some were supplied by the Archaeology Guild, and others are pieces they let me keep.” He told me, but that answer only puzzled me even more.

“I… I don’t think I understand. Why would you need weapons for that kind of job? Digging really doesn’t seem all that dangerous, just a lot of shoveling and lifting.”

“Archaeology isn’t just about digging things up. Many times we are asked to look around inside for artifacts to recover, and no one knows what manner of beasts may have come to dwell within the ruins we occasionally uncover. Tamriel is a lot more dangerous than many people care to admit. That’s why we were out here today, practicing your skills with the blade. You need to know how to handle yourself in a fight.” He then shifted his gaze skyward before adding: “Besides, if you want to join me at the Guild, they like it if you can handle yourself. It tells them you’re serious about the job.”

“OK, that helps explain where they came from,” I replied, though there was still one more question on my mind: “but why did you bring them with us down here?”

“I was hoping you’d ask,” My father replied, smiling down at me, “Tomorrow is your seventeenth birthday. I want you to choose one weapon from the set I brought, and that weapon will become yours to keep.”

“Really?” I could feel my eyes beginning to moisten. This was my family’s acknowledgement that I had matured. The bequeathing of a weapon, as was tradition for many others, and us, told the world that I was a man, ready to make his own choices and solve his own problems.

“Really,” Dad replied. It was all I could do but to hug him tight and thank him from the bottom of my heart. “You’ve grown up strong, and a father couldn’t ask for a better son. Keep to your training, and then we’ll talk about getting you some work at the Guild.”

I moved to the various assortments of swords and axes to find the one that I felt best spoke to my spirit. I selected a shortsword crafted of steel, and gave it a quick figure-eight, listening to the metal’s ringing song, and feeling the hilt shift in my palm, observing balance and weight.

“I like this one,” I told my dad.

“Great,” He replied. “Now, best get back home, we’ve got a big day tomorrow. I believe your mother is planning to bring you out to craft your bow, so get some rest.”

“By the way, dad…” Just one more thing I needed to set straight.

“Yes?”

“You didn’t forget my birthsign, right? You know I don’t tire easily.” He responded to this by grasping my shoulder and squeezing.

“Just don’t let it get to your head. The Steed may give you a horse’s lungs and legs, but not their constitution. If all else fails, remember to call to Equine for aid. You’ll know when he answers…”



----



Looks like the sun is nearing its zenith, I should probably get going if I want to reach the next inn by evening. As I stood, I felt my sword brush my side, and I took hold of its hilt, feeling familiar comforting warmth spread to my fingertips. It was as if my father’s spirit resided within... the only piece of him I had left, as my bow was of my mother. It was all I could wish for now but to hold my blade close and pray that someday, somewhere, I might just see them again.

You're a tease! Lots of answers, but even more questions here.

Nice use of mysterious dreams and wonderful Valenwood flashbacks to bring out some of Derelas' upbringing and family history. I'm quite pleased to see you are not rushing him along. You actually covered very little ground here, but the lingering was ever so worth it! Well done.

This is great fun to read!

once again sweating ice.
This is a very evocative phrase!

so ashamed of his own pelt he wears another’s.
I love this too!

“The key to being the better fighter is to always be one step ahead of your opponent.”
Pappy Vitellus would agree!

The ending really makes this segment, with the scene between father and son. Derelas is lucky to have had such a father. A man who is an inspiration rather than a tyrant. Who nurtures the growth of a son rather than prunes it, however unwittingly. This is so simply and eloquently done not only in the practice duel, but in the father's reaction at his son's victory. It is one of pride at the man Derelas has become. And all done so lightly as to be nearly transparent to the reader.

I also see by some of the references that there are some mods that you might be using in your fiction, such as the Ayleid Steps and its Archaeology Guild. I never got around to playing that one, so it will be nice to see it.


nits:
I had spoken without really thinking it through, but didn’t really care.
You have a repetition of really in the same sentence. I think you can just remove either of them and the sentence will read fine.


The Khajiit responded by quickly snarling, “Don’t even think I’m finished with you.” and dashing off.
You have two punctuation issues in this sentence. I think caused by confusion from the quotation marks. When punctuating a sentence, just ignore the quotation marks. So when looking above don't should be lowercase, as it is part of the same sentence as quickly snarling. Then later on finished with you ought to end with a comma rather than a period, as the last three words are part of the same sentence. Or what you might to do is completely rearrange the sentence, perhaps like this:
"Don't even think I'm finished with you!" the Khajiit snarled quickly, then dashed off.


As quick as I could, so to catch him on his recovery swing, I swung my leg around his, and before he could fully brace himself, kicked it out.
You have two variations of the same word (swung) in the same sentence. You could probably replace the second case with something like brought, or hooked.


“Your swordplay is definitely improving.” Dad said.
Another case of punctuation. That ought to be a comma at the end of the dialogue as the sentence continues with Dad said.

“Thanks, Dad.” I replied.
Same thing here. Plus a few more after that.

I should say that there are some schools of grammar thought that say capitalize inside the quotations. So if you want to keep them that way it is up to you, and I won't bring it up again. English is not an exact science like mathematics or astronomy. There is more than one school of thought on what constitutes 'proper' writing and what does not. So go with what you think is right, and put that in your stylesheet.

The reason I suggest going with the commas is basically one of consistency. Things like 'he said' do not make a complete sentence. But if you put the period inside your dialogue quotes, it looks that way. That breaks my immersion, because it makes me start thinking about grammar rules rather than just reading the story. I used to write with the periods in the quotations, until it was pointed out to me on the Beth forums by Rachel the Breton. She sort of made me see the light, and I have been happily using commas since.


figure-8
Just a purely aesthetic observation, and feel free to ignore it and like I said above, just go with your gut. But often numbers look better when they are spelled out with letters rather than using numerals (i.e. eight rather than 8).

This chapter was Huge with emotions. You set the mood for the nightmare with that eerie music - that whole scene was haunting - excellent!

The dream's carryover to Derelas's mood on the trip set the staging for his memories of his father and lack of preparedness in the robbery attempt - Huge !!! Awesome Chapter !!!

@Acadian: Keeping you guessing is my business. Glad to see you're enjoying yourself.

@SubRosa: Thank you for the styling suggestions, they are always welcome and only ever helpful. I'm using this story as a means to refine my fiction writing skills as well as to entertain you, so any suggestions you may have that will help improve the writing are greatly appreciated. Thanks for the vote of confidence, as well.

@mALX: After reading your latest, mine seems almost drab by comparison. Don't worry, though, I'll get there eventually, just you wait.

@All: Thank you for your continued support.

Next: News arrives from the Imperial City, and Dere's adventure begins.







The dense green forests of the Heartlands gave way to the rugged yellow grasslands and evergreens of the Colovian Highlands. The brook marking the county border babbled away beneath the small stone bridge across, its speed becoming that of a frenzy having finally been freed of the millpond just northward. The mill wheel creaked slowly and gutturally as it turned, and the faint sound of grindstones could be heard from within. To complete the picture, a huge rocky peak rose beyond the watchtower, the sandy stone cliffs occasionally broken by colossal caverns housing ancient carved stone structures. The moist, heavy air became lighter and drier the further I traveled over the past two days, and now my head was beginning to twinge rather uncomfortably. Probably just from all the travel, I told myself, it’ll get better after a good night’s rest. The walls of Chorrol were just visible over the rocky hilltops; I should be able to make it by sundown.



----



“Welcome to Chorrol,” one of the guards outside greeted me as he lit his lantern. “I suppose you’re looking for a place to stay for the night?”

“As a matter of fact, yes,” I replied.

“The Oak and Crosier is a fine place,” the guard began, “Talasma is very friendly and keeps a good clean house. As a matter of fact, she’s probably serving dinner right now, so best you hurry along if you don’t want to miss out.”

“Where can I find the place?”

“Just inside the gates off to the left of the Saint Statue Plaza. Should be packed right about now, so you can’t miss it.”

Not exactly the atmosphere I was looking for, I would have preferred some place where I could sleep off this headache in peace.

“Is there any place else, maybe somewhere a bit quieter?”

“Only the Gray Mare,” the guard told me, his face stiffening, “but all you’ll find there is cheap ale and raving drunkards.” That statement did wonders for making up my mind. Better loud and sober than sick and drunk.

“Right, Oak and Crosier it is.”

“Have a good night.”

The guard touched two fingers to his helmet as I made my way through the portcullis. It was getting too dark at this point to see much of the city, but I could make out the shadow of a statue by the light of a large building buzzing with activity to the left behind it. Deciding that must be place the watchman recommended, I made my way inside.

“Welcome to the Oak and Crosier, this one is Talasma, at your service. Looking for something to eat, or perhaps a place to rest?” A smiling Khajiit dressed smartly in blue suede greeted me warmly as the door swung closed behind me. The room was filled with men and mer wining, dining and chattering away, and while noisy, the effect was not unpleasant, rather it added a warming atmosphere. I made a silent note to thank the watchman next time I saw him, but in the meantime, I had dinner to worry about….

“Perhaps,” I replied, “what do you have?”

“Today we are serving boar; it’s been rubbed with sage, garlic, and a touch of clove and slow-roasted. That comes with a baked potato with butter, sour cream, and Cheydinhal Cheddar and a skillet-seared mushroom stuffed with tomatoes and caramelized onions,” she quickly recited. There was passion in her voice accented by her perked-up ears, telling me she really did love her work. She certainly knows how to get her customers' mouths watering.

“Sounds delicious,” I returned, “How much for that and a bed for the night?”

“20 Drakes,” she responded. I handed her a small handful of silver coins.

“Thank you. Now, there should be a free seat over this way, follow me….”



----



Warm sunbeams fell across my bed as I started up. My head had stopped aching and better yet, no night terrors. It would have been a perfect start to the day if there was not something that didn’t seem to fit about this morning. The inviting murmur of the evening meal had given way to an oddly stiff silence that seemed to compress the air within the lodge, making it seem oddly difficult to breathe. After a quick visit to the washroom, I made my way downstairs, and was greeted by an empty room. Not even Talasma was present. Something was very wrong with this picture now. The publican was not serving the breakfast fare, and the entire city was dead silent when it should be buzzing with the morning activity. Since I was obviously not going to get any questions answered in here by myself, I thought it best to go outside and see what was going on.

“…under his rule we saw 65 years of peace and prosperity, and many grave threats to the Imperial throne quashed.”

A booming voice greeted me as I made my way out the door. What looked to be the entire city’s population was gathered in the Statue Plaza, where a herald dressed entirely in black velvet was speaking from a raised wooden podium. Every face that I could see looked thunderstruck, and I could also hear the occasional sob. I noticed Talasma nearby and made my way to her, hoping to get a better idea of what happened.

“Excuse me, what’s going on here?” I whispered to her, making her jump before she quickly turned to face me.

“Goodness, you startled me,” She replied, “Umm… sorry, what did you ask, again?”

“What happened?” I repeated to her, doing my best to keep my voice down so to not disturb anyone else.

“Oh, yes,” She began, her voice higher than usual and quavering oddly, “Its… It’s the Emperor… He’s dead.” On speaking that last word, she gasped as if she hardly dared believe what she had just said. The air vanished from my lungs and electricity surged through my body as if I had been lightning-struck. I immediately turned my full attention to the herald, wanting just as much as everybody else to know what had happened.

“His passing marks a dark day indeed for the Empire, for the eternal flame of Akatosh, the light by which we all owe our lives to, grows dark. Today has been proclaimed a day of mourning by the Elder Council, who, until a decision as to who shall next attain the throne, shall take control of the Empire. They will do the best they can to maintain order until a new Emperor can be crowned. Her lordship Countess Arriana Valga would now wish for you to join her in a moment of prayer for the loss of such true-hearted men.” He then proceeded to help an elderly woman, also dressed in black velvet for the occasion, to the stand.

Wait, what? This makes no sense. Didn’t he have any heirs? What happened to them? Shouldn’t the Elder Council be searching them out? What else did I miss? How did he die? My mind buzzed with questions as the crowd bowed their heads and brought their hands together.

“Thank you,” the herald broke the silence after several minutes and helped the countess back down, where she moved to rejoin her guard at the head of the crowd. “If anyone wishes to know more, the Black Horse Courier is available here. Funeral processions will be held a week from today in Cyrodiil City.”

He then stepped down himself, and the entire square erupted into a maelstrom of confused voices as the crowd gradually dispersed. It took me several minutes to fight my way through to the makeshift newsstand that had been erected. Once I finally managed, all of my questions were answered with two drakes:

Emperor and Heirs Assassinated in the Night!

What a load of horse manure… the Emperor was assassinated not much more than two days ago and already we have idiots like these doing nothing more than add fuel to fire beneath the boiling cauldron! If the Elder Council is doing everything they can to hold Tamriel together right now, it sure won’t help with fools like these trying to get everyone to blow their tops just to keep the sales up. Crumpling the paper in my hands, I stuffed it as far as I could to the bottom of my pack so I might never see it again. Taking a quick look around, I noticed several of the shops around town were beginning to open. Assured that business was not being hampered by the tragedy today, I returned to my original task.

Following the posted signs up Great Oak Lane brought me to the similarly named Great Oak Plaza. The first thing that caught my eye was the tree growing in the center; it was huge! Its trunk towered over even the tallest buildings and the leafy canopy spread its shade to every corner of the rotunda, bringing back visions of the woods back home. The encircling road was now bustling with people moving every which way now that the herald was finished. Occasionally, a few would stop to chat, probably speculating about what will happen now that the Empire had lost its leader, but no one stood in the same place for long. Those who were here to relax were spread out upon the grassy knoll beneath which the great tree spread its roots, or sitting upon one of the many mahogany benches encircling it.

It was tempting to just throw my head back beneath the shade of the broad leaves for the day and let everything sink in, but I knew better. I wouldn’t get any closer to the University doing nothing. After a few more minutes of searching, I finally noticed the blue eye denoting the location of the guild, and made my way to the oaken doors.




----





“Hello, welcome to the Chorrol Mages Guild,” I was promptly greeted by the lightly hissing voice of an Argonian clad in indigo robes, “I am chapter Magister Teekeus. Are you here to join, or perhaps for one of these ‘Recommendations’ I’ve been hearing so much about?”

“Both, actually,” I replied, digging into my pack to remove the papers I brought with me from the Imperial City. He sounded like he was rather grumpy, and I couldn’t help but notice the irritation in his low voice when he said “Recommendation.”

“You won’t need those just yet,” Teekeus stopped me, causing me to look quizzically into his unreadable eyes. “First we need to give you a quick aptitude examination.”

“What? What test?” I asked indignantly. I thought anyone was allowed to join? Why do I need to take some dumb test?

“Don’t worry, it’s just for evaluation. It won’t affect your standing,” There was that irritated voice again, which did nothing to reassure me. I wasn’t sure if I liked him all that much. “I just need to know what schools of magic you are experienced in so we can better plan for your needs.”

“Illusion and Alchemy,” I quickly recited. I just wanted to get this over with, seeing as there was so much I’d rather be doing right now than listen to some crotchety lizard-man preen about my experience.

“OK, perhaps you show me a spell from the Illusion school?”

Repressing a sigh, I closed my eyes, imagining the lights had all gone away. I then fixed my mind on a desire to bring light to the darkness as I tensed my arm and clenched my fist. Soon I felt energy surge to my palm, and I held it in as long as I could before letting my hand fly open, releasing the Magicka in the form I desired…

*ROAR*

Oh, gods, did I just start a fire or something? My eyes flung open to the sight of another Bosmer, his hair ablaze, sprinting for the front door as fast as his legs could carry him. My stomach plummeted.

“HE’S OUT OF CONTROL, SOMEONE GET A LEASH ON HIM!” He cried out as he threw himself outside. I then saw a strange creature prance out of the neighboring room. It looked like a goblin, except he had black scales instead of green skin, long pointy ears, a maw full of sharp teeth, and a fireball building in one hand. With a quick motion, Teekeus cast a ball of purple light at the creature, causing it to dissolve into nothingness.

“Sorry about that,” he replied nonchalantly, “now, that was a Light spell, right?”

“Wait, hang on, that wasn’t me, was it?” I sure hoped it wasn’t. I don’t think I would be able to stand the shame.

“No, Erthor just has a bit of trouble controlling his summons,” Teekeus replied uninterestedly.

I raised an eyebrow at his response, but decided it would be best not to continue this discussion. “Yes, it was a light spell,” I replied to Teekeus’s original question. I then heard the door open as the Bosmer named Erthor returned, now bald and with his face sopping wet. It was all I could manage to resist laughing as he stomped upstairs, slamming the door behind him.

“Okay, now for Alchemy. Wait here.” He made his way into the neighboring room and returned a couple minutes later with a mortar and pestle, a white mushroom cap, a small cut of meat, and a vial of water. He then laid them on a small table next to a window and turned back to me. “Show me what you can do with those.”

A quick examination of the ingredients told me the mushroom was Cairn Bolete and the meat was venison. I then took the ingredients and began to crush them together with the mortar and pestle, not stopping until they had become a bright pink paste. I then slowly added in the water, stirring constantly, until the contents of the pestle flashed and shone with magical power. I then handed Teekeus the finished product, which he quickly appraised.

“A simple restorative draught,” he declared, “crude, but acceptable. Now, is there anywhere else you have magical skill in?”

“Nope,” I replied honestly.

“Very well. Hand me that application you had earlier.”

I handed him the leaflet of parchment, he then made a quick motion with his hand, causing a quill to appear out of nowhere, and began scratching away.




----




“Welcome to the Mages Guild, Associate,” Teekeus said as I handed him back his quill, which promptly vanished.

“Thanks,” I replied, “Now, I don’t mean to rush anything, but about that recommendation….”

“Oh, that,” Teekeus quickly looked out the window and I could swear I saw his scales darken as his eyes narrowed, “well, thankfully for you something’s just come up. I need you to find out what Earana is doing here.”

“Who is Earana?” I inquired, unsure how I fit into whatever was happening between them.

“Let’s just say we have a history together,” Teekeus replied, “She doesn’t put much by the rules of the guild and has taken to interfering with my research. I need you to speak to her, find out what she’s doing in Chorrol, and then come back here and tell me.”

I had to bite my tongue on the several questions I had, particularly why he just wouldn’t go outside and ask her himself. It probably wouldn’t be a very good idea to antagonize him right now, considering how on-edge and grouchy he looks. Instead, I wordlessly made my way outside, and immediately noticed a sandy-blond Altmer in a bright green dress making a beeline for me.

“Pardon me, are you new to the guild?” she immediately asked. This must be Earana, I thought; time to play along. At the very least I could answer this question honestly.

“Yes, actually, I am,” I told her.

“Ah, good,” she replied, a shifty grin crossing her face, “then you’ll do just fine. My name is Earana, and I have a job for you. It pays well, and it will most assuredly assist you in your education.”

“Depends on the job,” I told her, noticing the ghost of irritation flash through her eyes at my response. It would seem she was expecting someone a bit more enthusiastic.

“Oh, it’s not difficult at all, if that’s what you're wondering,” she replied, quickly recovering her haughty demeanor, “I just need you to find a book for me.”

“Okay then, what is this book you want?”

“It’s called ‘Fingers of the Mountain,’” she told me, placing heavy emphasis on the title that sounded mighty close to reverance, “it is of no use to you, you will not be able to read it. I, however, can, and would very much like to. Go to the ruins of Cloud Top in the Colovian Peaks to the north, find this book, and bring it back to me.”

“Okay, I’ll do my best,” I replied, “I just need to head back inside for a bit and get ready,” I then turned to leave, but was stopped by a sharp grip on my shoulder.

“Whatever you do, do not tell anything about our arrangement to Teekeus. It would be… unhealthy for you if you did,” she told me in a low, dangerous voice before letting me go. I left her side without a single glance backward, hoping she didn’t see the uneasy look on my face.




Screenshots (Click to enlarge):

Welcome to the Colovian Highlands:


Medieval Morning:


Unrelated extra, Moonlit Chapel:

What a wild introduction to the Chorrol Mages Guild! I love the way you displayed the city's reaction to the news, that was hugely immersive and makes much more sense than just one citizen telling another and hearing, "NO!" shouted. Another Great Chapter !!!!

TK, I like how this story is developing so far. The main character is getting more and more interesting as we go along.

It's a bit unique to document/witness the reaction of the general populace to the news of Emperor Uriel's death and the assassination of his sons. The BHC certainly came through this time!

Erthor's appearance was a bit of a surprise, since I normally encounter him in Skingrad, not Chorrol. Still, it adds a bit of an interesting background to this character. I presume he got kicked out of the Chorrol chapter and told to head to Skingrad to keep Berene entertained?

Some technical nits:
I'm seeing apostrophe issues. I'll go through them one by one:


That pesky it's/its! This is a huge tripping stone for many writers (including myself, until I figured it out). It is a word that does not observe the same apostrophe conventions as most words. While the apostrophe is used in many possessive forms (such as Erthor's summons, Teekeus's grumpiness, etc), it does not own an apostrophe in its possessive form. On the other hand, it's is a contraction of it is.


Unless you are writing a crossover between TES and Star Wars, I doubt our dear Talasma has a mutlple-mouthed customer from the infamous cantina on Tatooine. When using the possessive apostrophe for a plural noun, the little dangle goes after the s, as in customers' mouths. For singular nouns (including proper nouns) ending in s, such as Teekeus, the convention is to place a second s after the apostrophe (see Teekeus's grumpiness above).


Your/you're is another little stone that many writers trip over. Your is possessive, as in your goal, while you're is a contraction of you are, as in you're crazy! (I'm using this as an example, not as an opinion of the writer's mental status!)


A few words of advice: avoid using spell check and grammar check instead of your own brain and two eyes. Spell check is not context-aware (which may lead to some of the apostrophe issues you're having), and I've seen some substitutions that were crazier than honoured user and loaf of bread. And I have yet to encounter grammar check that was accurate and intelligent. I do have spell check enabled in my writing software, but I use it sparingly, and mostly to highlight questionable words. I still give each piece a thorough proofreading myself, since I catch more errors than any computer ever could.

Overall I like the way this story is heading. I see that you are feeding Acadian - it's something that is bound to make him a very happy reader!

Rider was right! You served chow, and here I am - a happy reader! Yum, a wonderful roast boar dinner and a roaring fire.

I thoroughly enjoyed this story.

Your portrayal of the Emperor's death was very well done, and fitting. The BHC article was a nice touch and also nicely done.

Erthor - now bald - added a nice touch of humor.

And Earana. . . Oh I hope Dere doesn't have to kill her like some other elf did. But you see how cranky, unreasonable and even dangerous she can get?

Nit?
“Welcome to the Mages Guild, Associate,” Teekeus said as I handed him back his quill, which he promptly vanished.
I'm gonna guess that you meant the quill vanished, not he (Teekeus). Therefore, it seems the word 'he' should vanish?

Melissa Etheridge Mill? Teresa is going to have to look that place up.

So was that watchman who gave Derelas directions Nite Owl? the Comedian? Rorschach?

Dinner sounds good. Now I need that Homer Simpson mouth-watering emoticon again! Here we go!

I liked how Dere learned about the Emperor's death. For once the player character was not in the middle of it! That is indeed refreshing to read in an ES fan fic, as usually if the Oblivion Crisis takes place in the fic, the main character is there for the Emp's death (my own included). It is a very pleasant change to see the main character being just a bystander in it all.

btw, you can post inline images here, so you might want to add in the BHC logo to your copy of the newsheet. Just reply to this and copy and paste the code below:



I thought anyone was allowed to join?
This was a nice little dig at the game, where even Bobo the Barbarian can join mages guild, arcane university, and become the Arch Mage.

Erthor's appearance was wonderful! So perfectly timed as well!

And finally Earana. I did this one with my previous magician - Morrigan - and gave Earana the book. After creating a mod that changed the stats for the Finger of the Mountain spell to make it more useful, it was the only ranged destruction spell that Morrigan used for the rest of the game.

@mALX: Thank you.

@haute ecole rider: Glad to see you with us, and that you are enjoying the adventure (well, the start of it at least). Thank you for the proofreading advice, I daresay it helped quite a bit to turn the grammar checker off (though I leave the spellchecker on just in case of typos).

@Acadian: With my culinary training, I think I can safely say there's plenty more delicious reading coming, when the time is right. On the topic of Earana... read on.

Nit be picked.

@SubRosa: If you're wondering, the mill is added by the mod Unique Landscapes: River Ethe, and it's actually to the west of Chorrol in the game, not to the east like I portrayed it. If you are further wondering, Chorrol exists roughly in the area Battlehorn Castle does in this fiction, in the rocky, golden-grassed hinterlands of Cyrodiil. I thought it would fit a bit better for a mountain town, considering I live in one.

@all: It is your faithful support that keeps me going and makes me better. I don't think I couldn't have even made it this far without your support, and this story is nowhere even close to done! I have big plans with the overarching plot, and in time, you might catch a glimpse of them. Every event so far will have repercussions later on, remember that.

next: We have irate mages and raving drunkards. I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, so I hope you will have just as much reading it.







Teekeus was not in the lobby when I returned, so I had to grab a seat and wait for him to come back from wherever he went. After about 5 minutes or so, I saw him coming back down the stairs to the lobby. If possible, he looked even grumpier now than he did before, and seemed none too pleased to see me again.

“I trust you’ve spoken to Earana,” he snapped, the hiss in his voice making him sound even more like a rearing serpent than before, “I want her out of town. You won’t be getting into my good books dancing around my hall with your head in your pants.”

Hardly red carpet treatment, what’s gotten beneath his scales?

“Yes, I did speak to her,” I told him, “she wanted me to find a book for her. ‘Fingers of the Mountain’ she said.”

Teekeus nearly exploded when he heard the book’s name, “WHAT?! What else did she tell you?”

“That she wanted to read it and that I could find it someplace called Cloud Top, north of here,” I finished. Teekeus was nearly beside himself when I was done.

“So she knows where it is, too?! This is unacceptable, absolutely unacceptable!” He ranted, more to himself than to anyone else in particular. He then turned back to me, his two elegant fins pinned to his head and shooting daggers from his eyes.

“Go to Cloud Top and find that book,” he hissed, making me recoil from how much he was showing off his needle-like teeth, “do not give it to Earana, whatever you do, she must not be allowed to have it. Bring it back here to me, instead. I need not remind you that handing her that book will forfeit your guild membership. Do I make myself clear?”

“Very,” I bemusedly replied, “but what made you think I was going to help that ice queen in the first place? I know where my loyalties lie.”

“Oh, really?” Teekeus answered, relaxing a bit. “Then I trust you will handle yourself properly if she comes looking for you, because I highly doubt she’s going to let that book slip her grasp lightly. Just do what you must to bring it here, that book is far too dangerous to leave out in the open.”

“Well, I guess I should get going then?”

“Good idea. I’ll let you out the back way, once outside, leave town through the north gate, and try to keep Earana from seeing you. She’s bound to follow you, though, so be ready for her.” Teekeus then reached into the front of his robe, pulled out a scroll of yellowing parchment bound in twine, and handed it to me. “Here, in case you need to make a quick getaway, this scroll will summon a Scamp to your side. It should distract her long enough for you to get some distance between you and her. Can you do that?”

“Sure,” I answered, recalling my birthsign, and the words of a certain figure, “If all else fails, remember to call to Equine for aid. You’ll know when she answers…”

“Good, now get moving.”




----




The sun was beginning to set as I made my way back down the rocky mountain trail after the long, yet uneventful hike to the ruins of Cloud Top. There wasn’t much there apart from a small shrine and a blackened corpse charred to the point where it was impossible to identify the gender. It was a rather grisly sight but thankfully it was too well done to smell, and it was still clutching the book in it’s blackened arms when I arrived. The grand stone walls of Chorrol loomed in the distance now, beckoning my return with the promise of a warm meal, a soft bed, and, of course, another step being taken towards my magical career. But the peace was not to last, for I soon noticed a familiar green dress storming up the trail in my direction.

“Hold it right there!” came the resounding cry of Earana’s voice, “I’m afraid I can’t trust you anymore. I’m here to claim my book.”

“Hmm… I wonder what caused you to double take?” I asked rhetorically, knowing the answer before she even opened her mouth to say it.

“Well, going back inside the guild after we spoke didn’t help your case much,” She sneered. I quickly thrust my hand into my pocket, grasping the scroll Teekeus gave me tightly in my palm, ready to release the Scamp contained within the parchment at a moment’s notice.

“Anyways, that doesn’t matter anymore,” She continued in that grating snide voice, “I have a new deal for you. You give me the book, and I’ll let you walk away from this unharmed. Sound good to you?”

“Surprisingly, no,” I countered, and watched with satisfaction as her disgustingly proud grin slid off her face like molasses on water. “I thought maybe you could do a little dance for me first. By the gods, I could use a good laugh today.”

“Some cheek you’ve got,” she snarled back, her face reddening, “Let’s see how good it does you on the end lightning… AARGH!”

I watched in bemused silence as Earana’s body was thrown face-first to the dirt. As she fell, I noticed a feathered shaft sticking out of a most peculiar place. She did not get up.

“You’re off to a fine start here. Just three days in Cyrodiil and already you’ve made someone want to kill you.”

A female figure emerged from the trees a short ways down the hill, a very familiar Dunmer figure….

“Faith?!” I cried out, “What are you doing here?”

“Now there’s the question of the week,” She replied, grinning, “Mind telling me what you were doing here first?”

“Being threatened by some Altmer witch with her head too high up in the clouds to see reason.” I explained to her. “Nice aim, by the way.”

“Hey, just thought she needed to get some shaft before the end,” She replied, smirking down at the now lifeless body, “Oh, I know what you’re thinking right now, and she won’t be missed. She has a history of violence, this one; murdered a couple people down the way of Bravil. News probably didn’t make it in of that today, what with the assassination; Count Terentius put a bounty on her life a couple days ago.”

“And how do you know that?” I inquired. I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful for her help, but it did seem a bit odd that she knew that.

“I’m a forester, I have my ways,” She quickly dismissed my question. Again with the secrets, it would seem, I was beginning to wonder if “forester” was her only profession. “Besides, it was supposed to be in today’s paper. News just got held up due to the Emperor’s death. The Chorrol guard knows about her now; I suspect that’s why she left the city to tail you. We can report her in on the way down.”

“Fair enough,” I replied, relieved that we weren’t facing murder charges for all this. “Anyways, we seem to have lost topic here,” Faith continued, “what were you really doing here?” I proceeded to tell her about Teekeus’ task, Earana’s shady deal, and the book in my pack.

“Fingers of the Mountain?” Faith looked quite unnerved by the time I was finished, “I hope this guy Teekeus realizes he’s put you in terrible danger asking you to do this for him.”

“So it would seem,” I replied, eying Earana, “If this book is really that dangerous, maybe we should stop wasting time here and get it back into town before we lose the sun?”

“Good idea,” Faith answered, pulling her arrow out of Earana’s rear.




----




“Thank the Nine you’ve brought this to me,” came Teekeus’s hissing voice, though he seemed much more relaxed now that I had handed him the book, lending his voice an oddly soothing quality. “I feared what might have happened to you when I saw Earana dash off. I’m glad to see you’re safe.”

“I had a bit of help,” I told him. Faith and I had parted ways once we returned to the city.

“Well, what matters is you’ve brought this wretched book back with you so the Mages Guild can keep it locked away from unsuitable eyes,” Teekeus continued. He then turned to me, and I saw what might have been the lizard-like equivalent of a smile on his face. “You’ve done well, and I’m glad my trust in you was not misplaced. I will provide you the recommendation you desire.”

I thanked him as I handed him my paperwork to sign.

“Now, if you wish to stay here for the night, we have several free beds upstairs,” Teekeus explained to me, “or would you prefer to stay elsewhere?”

“I’ll probably head back to the Oak and Crosier,” I replied, “it’s been a long day, and I’d prefer a quiet rest.”

“Very well,” Teekeus answered, turning away, “Just remember that our beds are always available to our members. But… I would suggest staying elsewhere if you’re planning to go to Skingrad,” he added. I decided it would be better not to ask any further.

As I made my way back to the Oak and Crosier for dinner and bed, I stumbled into a man… or rather, he stumbled into me. Just one whiff of him told me he was extremely drunk. He was dressed in a simple blue and green outfit that was frayed in several places.

“If I tol’ you once, I tol’ ya thousan’ times… I never been to Cheydinha…” he began, but soon after seemed to catch himself. This allowed me to barely recognize the singsong voice of a Breton behind all the slurred, drunken speech. “Wait, wai’ you’re someone else. I’m sorry, my friend, I though’ you was someone else.”

“You should probably go home and get some rest,” I told him. It might have seemed needless, but drunks can be anything but coherent, as this man was quickly proving to me.

“Well, ya’ see, frien’, people have always been comin’ up to me an’ asking ‘Didn’ I see you in Cheydinhal? Didn’t I see you in Deychinhal?’” He continued raving, seeming not to even register I had said anything, “Well, I’m sick o’ it… an’ tired. Tired an’ sick….”

He chose this moment to vomit all over the paving stones.

“…Well, maybe jus’ tired now,” He continued, “Anyways, come over here, got job for ya’.”

I hesitantly took a step closer, cautious should his stomach decide it was dissatisfied with the amount of alcohol inside him once again.

“I wan’ you go to Cheydinhal, tell this man to stop besmirching my good name, I’m quite capable of smebirching my own good name on my own.”

He then pulled a small sack out of his pocket and dropped it at my feet, barely missing his own pile of regurgitation.

“There’s 50 drakes in it for ya’ frien’, now get outta my way, need to go have a nap….”

With that he stumbled off down the street, nearly smacking headlong into a lamppost as he left. He left me wondering who he was and just what might have turned him into such a roaring drunk. Well, at the very least I had my next destination well in hand, and some extra money to get me there.

And Faith saves the day!

Honestly I liked how Earana met her end. I just don't know how Julian is going to deal with her when she comes to Chorrol. Ugh.

Anyways, this has got to be my fav line in this chapter:

Drunk speak can be hysterical, and our drunken Jemane nailed it!

what’s gotten beneath his scales?
A wonderful setting-friendly phrase!

So Faith is a bounty hunter who was hunting Earana? Now that is interesting. A neat twist.

I would suggest staying elsewhere if you’re planning to go to Skingrad,
Vigge's fame precedes him!

“…Well, maybe jus’ tired now.”
Reynald has always been one of my favorite characters in the game. You just made him even more so!


nits:
“Fair enough,” I replied, relieved that we weren’t facing murder charges for all this.
“Anyways, we seem to have lost topic here,” Faith continued, “what were you really doing here?” I proceeded to tell her about Teekeus’ task, Earana’s shady deal, and the book in my pack.

“So it would seem,” I replied, eying Earana, “If this book is really that dangerous, maybe we should stop wasting time here and get it back into town before we lose the sun?”
“Good idea.” Faith answered, pulling her arrow out of Earana’s rear.

You lost the spaces between the twos sets of paragraphs above.

Oh that's right! I remember now about your culinary training. TK - Iron Chef Tamriel!! I know where to read to get fed now. Although dear Julian feeds me very well. Oh, and meals with Jerric are great too! Now where was I? Oh yes, great story here!

“I trust you’ve spoken to Earana,” he snapped, the hiss in his voice making him sound even more like a rearing serpent than before, “I want her out of town. You won’t be getting into my good books dancing around my hall with your head in your pants.”
Hardly red carpet treatment, what’s gotten beneath his scales?
Wonderfully Argonian, this exchange!

I watched in bemused silence as Earana’s body was thrown face-first to the dirt. As she fell, I noticed a feathered shaft sticking out of a most peculiar place. She did not get up.
I can quite assure you that the little elf on my shoulder was cheering and shaking her bow in satisfaction as she read this. How wonderful that Earana met her end by arrow! I think the way you handled this aspect of the quest was very well done! Faith, you go, girl! Oh, and TK, don't you think for one minute I don't know where Faith got her name - it takes one to know one!

But… I would suggest staying elsewhere if you’re planning to go to Skingrad
Oh noes. Not more reminders of the musical (ugh) beds in Skingrad!

Ahah. So it seems that Shaydinhole Chernobyl, Chedderbowl? - oh, you know what I mean is the next recommendation with a little drunken mystery to boot!

GAAAAH !!!! How did I miss that you had posted a new chapter ?????? You did an Awesome job of personalizing that quest, all while adding the mystery of Faith's presence and knowledge - almost seems like she is following Derelas (or am I thinking of Victor and the Courier? Lol).

Evil or not - I always deal with Earana to get that spell from her, either before or after the Mages Guild gets the book. It is an Awesome spell, and the danger of facing the lightning bolt to get it makes it more fun, lol.


Fingers on he Mountain:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BmGUQZCAkx0


Awesome Chapter!!! Leaves a nagging feeling we haven't seen the last of Faith - and that her role is much more complex than originally thought. Great Write !!

I love the humor! Your Reynald is even more hilarious than the game makes him, and who doesn’t enjoy a good vomit joke? Earana’s ‘end’ was quite satisfying. Dinner at the Oak and Crosier has my mouth watering. I’m looking forward to reading more of your story!

I'm a late comer to the story, but now I'm on the same page as evryone else. This is a great story so far.

The sinister beginning of Chapter 1 was a real "reader grabber"!

I really like the way you have tweaked the Mage's Guild initiation, giving both the enrollment and recommendation rituals nice touches that were very plausable.

Can't wait for more...

@haute ecole rider: Isn't it fun writing drunk speak? I was hoping that Faith's intervention would help to build her into a more likable figure, I'm glad it worked out.

@SubRosa: Assumptions already? Tut tut, Sage Rosa, you barely know the gal!

It appears that my word processor and these boards still have a few differences to work out. Thanks for picking those up.

@Acadian: Buffy's happy, and that means worlds to me. We won't be going to the city starting with C immediately, however. I've got plenty of room for some character building on the week-long journey.

@mALX: Well, giving the book to Earana just isn't in my character's... well... character. Rest assured, the book and the knowledge it contains will return eventually.

@Grits: Want a good vomit joke? Search for the Mr. Creosote Monty Python sketch. That's classic gross-out humor.

@TheOtherRick: Welcome! Glad you're enjoying yourself!

@all: The next chapter was supposed to be presented all in one, but when I did my pre-post word count I discovered it was almost 4000 words long! That's a bit lengthy, so I've decided to split the chapter in two. This is the first part.

next: Derelas leaves Chorrol, and gets a sobering welcome to life as a traveller.






“Who, Reynald Jemane? He doesn’t do much else around here except drink his life away at the Gray Mare, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

It was morning once again, and I had sparked a quick chat with Talasma over the strange drunk who confronted me the evening before. She didn’t look too happy to be talking about him; the moment I mentioned him her ears drooped and her hackles raised slightly, but I highly doubted I would be able to find this “besmircher of good names” if I didn’t know whose good name to look for.

“Sorry, I didn’t know he wasn’t that popular around here,” I replied, hoping it would ease her irritated tone, “he just ran into me yesterday and told me about someone impersonating him in Cheydinhal or something.”

“Well, This One wouldn’t put much by anything he does tell you,” Talasma continued with a grimace, “half the time he doesn’t even know what’s coming out of his mouth if he’s not redecorating the cobblestones. Why even bother thinking about it?”

“I have a bit of business in Cheydinhal, myself,” I answered, though I had to admit Talasma had a point, “wouldn’t hurt to take a look around.”

“Probably not,” Talasma replied, “in fact, This One has heard a few customers talking about seeing someone who looked a lot like Reynald, only with longer hair and sober, if that helps any.”

“He didn’t tell me much else about him, so all help is welcome right now,” I answered, leaving a drake on the table. “Anyways, I best be off if I want to make Odiil by sundown. Thanks for the k’lah.”




----




The golden rocks of the hinterlands had been all but hidden away by the sea of trees, welcoming me back to the Great Forest. Gargantuan redwoods rose to touch the very heavens, while diminutive saplings were latched in a tense battle for whatever sunlight they could scrounge. Every so often the ocean of green was broken by the yellowing leaves of autumn, adding a painter’s touch to the scene. A cool breeze rustled its way through the canopy, sending the treetops dancing in its joyful bluster. The faint, playful trilling of finches and robins completed the natural symphony.

As I continued my journey back to Weye, where I would then cross the Imperial Isle to reach Cheydinhal, I returned to the immense ruins of an old keep I had passed on the way to Chorrol. If I remembered correctly, it was named Fort Ash. It rose from the ground with the forest, masquerading as the colossal trunk of a long petrified ancient oak. As I approached the grand archway spanning the road, I noticed the bushes rustling to my left.

I turned to investigate, when suddenly a familiar Khajiit clad in hardened furs burst from the leaves, mace drawn and held high.

“I told you this wasn’t over, tree-hugger! Prepare to die!”

I barely had enough time to draw my blade before he brought his mace downward, aiming for my head. I quickly dived out of the way, using my empty hand to form my body into a wheel as I rolled. I quickly regained my footing and turned to face my assailant, who was charging me again. This time he brought his mace upwards from a low swing, once again aiming for my head…

I crouched down, letting his mace fly over my head and his momentum carry him further forward. I then swung for his heel, and felt my blade bite into his flesh. Blood spurted all along the paving stones as his leg gave out, sending him crashing to his knees beside me. I could have let him be then, just left him crippled and ran, he obviously wouldn’t be able to follow, but a strange feeling was flowing through me. I felt invigorated, as if some part of me buried deep down had been awakened, something primal. I could not control myself, in a single movement, I stood, brought my blade to his throat, and pulled….

I felt my blade leave my hand, listening to it clatter to the ground. He was dead, and I killed him. I slowly backed away from the body, whose blood was now flowing between the cracks in the stones in a visceral dance. It felt as if a portion of my mind had been cleaved nearly in two. One side was so utterly appalled at what I had done that it wanted me to run into a corner, huddle up, and cry until my tears ran dry. The other was rearing, screaming approval. I collapsed to the ground, unable to figure myself out. Should I be disgusted, or ecstatic?

He was trying to kill you, you know, he told you himself, I heard a nagging voice in the back of my head reply to my unvoiced question. He chose his fate, you simply showed him the way.

Doesn’t change that I killed him, I rebutted.

What can? He died so you could live. Nothing you can do about that now.

He didn’t have to die, you know, I could’ve just scampered when I got his leg.

He would be back, then, too. They’re always back sooner or later.

And he also might have learned his lesson, you can’t know that.

You did what you had to. No point in arguing that, it’s done. You can’t go back. If you’re worried about the law, don’t be. He attacked you, you defended yourself, you have your rights.

“No, I’m worried that you’re sending me down the wrong path,” my voice rang through the trees, splitting open the deafening silence following the brief battle.

First sign of madness, talking to yourself, much less arguing with yourself. Just move on, you’ll find it easier to understand soon enough.

And how is that, exactly? What’s to understand, that I’ve got blood on my hands I can never scrub off?

No, just that you need to be prepared for what this world has in store for you. Remember what dad said? Tamriel is not a pretty place, better you get used to death now with no one else to hound you than when you’ve got three bandits just itching to steal your coin and willing to kill you trying.

Great, I really am talking to myself. I sure hope the gods will forgive me for my moment of crazy.

A house divided is hardly crazy. You just need some time to digest, to pick up the pieces. You’ve always had this in you, it was only today that you first let your instincts loose. Give it time, you’ll come to grips.

Fine, if it means I won’t have to make anyone think I’m going schizophrenic, I’ll listen. Might as well get the body off the road, I’m quite sure the are not many travelers out there who would enjoy discovering a rotting half-lion in the middle of the pathway. Once I moved him off to the grass on the side, I quickly checked his pockets, and pulled out several small sacks of drakes with a couple septims thrown in here and there. I placed a drake on his mouth to let the Watch know he was an outlaw and left the scene. As I passed beneath the old ruins, I felt strangely more vulnerable than I did half an hour ago.

And here comes the Highwayman again!

At least you fixed him this time. He won't be shouting "Today you die!" anymore.

I did spot a couple of nits. Really, one nit repeated twice:


It's another confusing term. Who's is the contraction of who is, while the term you want in this context is whose. Correct usage of the two forms would be as follows:
Who's crazy enough to try this?
Whose idiotic idea was that?

Hope it clarifies things for you a bit!

if he’s not redecorating the cobblestones.
Ewwww!

So Derelas has taken his first life. You show his conscience very well in his internal monologue afterward. It also looks like he is not alone inside his head. Somehow I doubt he is your run of the mill crazy person though. Given that this is a fantasy setting, having a spirit companion is not very far-fetched at all. If that is indeed what the other voice is.

A very neat bit of world-building, leaving the coin in the bandit's mouth afterward.

This chapter was HUGE in detail and emotions. The descriptions were awesome, but best of all I loved the detail of leaving the coin on his mouth as a sign for the Legion. AWESOME detail !!!

Derelas's reaction on his first killing - deeply realistic. You do what you have to for survival, but that doesn't make it easier to live with. (having a son that served three tours in Iraq - I know this emotion well, have seen it firsthand in my son).

AWESOME Chapter !!!

I very much enjoyed this!

'the moment I mentioned him her ears drooped and her hackles raised slightly,'
How naturally you incorporated this Khajiit-specific description!

The golden rocks of the hinterlands had been all but hidden away by the sea of trees, welcoming me back to the Great Forest. Gargantuan redwoods rose to touch the very heavens, while diminutive saplings were latched in a tense battle for whatever sunlight they could scrounge. Every so often the ocean of green was broken by the yellowing leaves of autumn, adding a painter’s touch to the scene. A cool breeze rustled its way through the canopy, sending the treetops dancing in its joyful bluster. The faint, playful trilling of finches and robins completed the natural symphony.
*Contented sigh* A symphony to make any wood elf glad to be a wood elf! And such a stark contrast with the mortal fight that followed.

I echo the wise readers above in praising how you handled Derelas' reaction to killing the highwayman. If it helps, I'm glad he didn't leave the varmint alive to terrorize more travelers.

Great stuff!

I like the way the fight scene played out. First he fights the bandit and then himself afterward. A glimpse into an ongoing theme perhaps?

@haute ecole rider: Well, you knew he had to die sometime, didn't you? This is a TES fanfic, after all, wouldn't be one without the merciless slaughtering of outlaws. Well, maybe not so merciless here, but you get the idea.

@SubRosa: No, he is not your run-of-the-mill crazy person, he's just a little divided right now, for obvious reasons. The internal monologue was meant to emphasize this. We will eventually figure out who is talking to him (and before you ask, no it is not a Paladin).

@mALX: As the undisputed master of emotions, this means a lot to me coming from you. I'm glad I managed to convey how dramatic a change one's life can make when they take another. I try to avoid death as much as I can here, but occasionally, you just have to take it, and I need to be certain Dere takes it in stride.

@Acadian: Think of that segment as my little way of discussing how death is so easily brushed off in TES, especially Oblivion. This will be a recurring theme throughout the story, dramatic character changes brought on by notable deaths.

@TheOtherRick: I answered your question in the above reply, but will say it again. Notable deaths (and you will know when they happen) will bring about dramatic character changes throughout the story. This was the first, and definitely not the last.

@all: We now enter part 2 of chapter 3, in which Dere's internal conflict continues as he struggles to find a way to deal with his guilty conscience. Will he find an outlet? Read on to find out...

next: We're back in Weye, and about to partake in a couple TES rites of passage.




The remainder of my journey back to Weye was troubled by sleepless nights. Images of blood spilling from furry necks and flashing blades sauntered through my dreaming mind, making my every attempt to find peace in slumber seem quite foolish. No doubt this was because my soul was in turmoil now that I joined the ranks of the life-takers. My waking hours in Wawnet were as miserable as ever, I again found no peace in my rest, and that haunting red-eyed figure was also beginning to creep his way back into my dreams. The weather matched my mood with a dreary, cloudy day that all but promised rain.

I felt in need of a bit of fresh air, so I made my way outside into the chilly, dreary late morning air. I had been staring out towards the depths of the Lake Rumare for over an hour and had started drizzling lightly when I turned to go back inside when I noticed another person was matching me. It was the old balding fisherman I saw limping back to his hut as I was leaving for Chorrol. He was sitting on an old wooden stool, staring out to the iron-gray waters with that same empty look in his eyes that I knew I was sharing. I moved over to join him.

“You know, stranger,” he began to speak to me when I had come to a stop beside him, though he had not followed my progress or even seemed to notice I was there, “you look like someone who knows what it’s like to have lost a fight. Well, I’ve fought and I’ve lost.”

Despite the questions I had for him, I decided it would be best, and more polite, just to let him finish.

“You see, everyone has their grand enemies, their demons, that try as they might, they just can’t defeat. ‘And who was my great enemy’ you might ask? Well don’t laugh,” he sighed deeply, “it was a bunch of damn fish.”

“I’m not laughing.” I quickly replied, “I saw the fish you caught. One bite from their mouths could cut down a tree.”

“Well, that’s noble of ya,” the fisherman answered back, and it cheered me up a bit to see a bit of depression leave his face. “Everyone else would just guffaw at my face when I told them.”

“So why tell me? You didn’t know if I would do the same.”

“I already told ya, you looked like someone who knew what it was like to lose a fight.”

“Well, actually, I’m just fighting a guilty conscience right now,” I answered simply.

“Oh,” the fisherman replied, looking crestfallen, “right.” He then turned away, back to staring out over the lake. Way to go, Dere, someone was looking for reaffirmation that he wasn’t alone in his misery and you just told him up front you weren’t the right kind of guy. Now that you’ve just shown the world how not to do it, maybe you might find it in your blackening, murderous heart to help the poor guy?

“What do you need help with?” I suddenly voiced. I hadn’t meant to speak yet, but I was just happy to at least try and salvage the situation. The fisherman was a bit taken aback by the sudden response, but seemed a bit less depressed nonetheless.

“You’d help an old man find some peace? That’s mighty kind of ya’,” He replied, “Name’s Aelwin Merowald, by the way.”

“Derelas,” I returned, “So, umm… is there anything I can help you out with? Something to make you feel better?” Something to make me feel better, I finished inside my head.

“Well, if you would, I was tryin’ to catch Rumare Slaughterfish for this young alchemist down the way of Skingrad,” Aelwin began, “he was payin’ me a shiny septim for their scales, see? And it was going so well until last week, when one of those bloody things damn near took my leg off.

“Anyways,” he continued, “I only needed a couple more of the buggers before I would’ve had enough saved up to retire, but I can’t well fish on this bum leg o’ mine, now can I?”

“So you’d like it if I could go and catch the rest,” I finished.

“Aye, that’d be mighty decent of ya’,” Aelwin replied, the shadow of a smile crossing his grim features, “I only need about two or three more and I can scale ‘em myself, so I just need ya’ to catch ‘em. Lemme show ya’ to my fishing gear, then I’ll meet you down by the lakeshore. I may not be able to fish, but at least I can still walk.”




----




“Thank you so much. Let it never be said there are no kind souls in the world.”

I had instantly regretted offering my help when I pulled the first fish out of the water. By the Gods, was that net made of steel for a good reason! The fish was huge, and I if I wasn’t so engrossed in getting that thing tossed on the beach and imprisoned in the steel net, I would have been wondering how it managed to fit all those dagger-sized teeth into that maw. My own legs came mighty close to meeting the same fate as Aelwin’s several times, and my forearms now bore many scratches and cuts from the nashing teeth. My hands were caked in blood from the bait, as well; by the arduous smell I decided it was some form of rotting venison. I don’t think it would be possible to express how relieved I was by the time it was all over. I sure do hope Aelwin appreciates the effort I put into getting him these two miniature sharks.

“Will that be enough? It’s getting a bit late.” I inquired, dipping my hands into the frigid lake water to wash the blood off.

“Aye, that’ll be plenty,” Aelwin replied, “I’ll scale ‘em here, don’t want to make a mess in the village, or stink it up, for that matter. Anyways, come on over here, I got something for you.”

I obliged his request, curious as to what he had in store for me. Once I was close enough, he reached into his pocket and pulled out… a ring.

“I want you to have this,” He told me, handing me the glinting silver band. On closer inspection, I saw it had a sapphire jewel cut to the shape of a drop of water. “This was a good luck charm o’ mine. I don’t have much need for it anymore, seeing as my fishing days are done, so I might as well give it to you. My way of saying thanks for all your help.”

“You’re quite welcome,” I replied, surprised and slightly moved that he wasn’t expecting me to help him out of the kindness of my heart. It was just enough to drive me to put it on. “Thank you for your generous gift. You sure you can make it back on your own?”

“Don’t mention it,” Aelwin said, “and don’t worry about me, I know my way home, and I’m not taking the fish with me anyways. Speaking of which, you are welcome inside any time, friend. I hope I’ll see you again someday.”

“As do I,” I said as a way of good-bye. I couldn’t turn my eyes away from the jewel that now rested on my finger. Helping that poor man and seeing the bright, happy look on his face at the end had given me solace. I felt more whole, as opposed to the last several days when I was as divided as any man could be. I’m doubtful I would ever be that kind of innocent again now that I had tasted blood, but it did make me feel much better knowing I still meant well.

“Well, don’t you seem awfully chipper,” I was greeted by the Wawnet publican as I returned inside. It was much quieter tonight than it was when I was last here, there were only two tables taken, and only one had more than one tankard in front of them. “When you arrived last night, you were a right mess of emotions. Glad to see you found a way to let them out, it’s not healthy to keep them all bottled up like that.”

“So am I,” I responded, taking a seat at the bar so that I could continue speaking with her.

“Well, anyways, what can I get you tonight?”

“Same as last night, I think.”

The publican quickly busied herself with the cooking fire. I noticed her movements were well practiced and quite graceful, as if she were dancing with the flames.

“I know you must get this a lot, but you are quite a beautiful woman,” I couldn’t help myself but to say. Her golden-skinned neck turned slightly pinker in response.

“Well, you’re definitely not the first to say that, but you certainly are the first to say so politely,” she replied, flashing a small smile my way. “Most of the time, all I get is ‘baby, you’re not the only thing that’s tall in here right now…’”

“And don’t you forget that!” Came a drunken shout from behind me, followed by roaring laughter. The publican shook her head without even looking back at them.

“Ingrates,” she muttered reproachfully, “well, as I was saying, it is nice to hear that from an honorable, sober person from time to time.”

“How do you live with it?” I inquired.

“I learned a long time ago,” she replied, but chose not to say any more. Her answer didn’t surprise me one bit, I’ve learned that plenty of women like their secrets.

She handed me my plate of braised veal shank “Osso Bucco” and waited for me to take my first bite before continuing.

“I’m Nerussa,” she told me as she returned to wiping down goblets and tankards.

“Derelas,” I returned, “this is very good, by the way.”

“Thank you,” she replied, “would you like a goblet of wine with that? It blends quite well with the Surilie Merlot 421 and Tamika’s Vintage Cabernet 407.”

“Well, you seem to know your wines,” I answered. I wasn’t expecting that a small town inn would carry such a wide, and expensive, range. “I’m not sure I could afford those right now, unfortunately.”

“Well, at least have a taste,” she encouraged, placing a clay goblet next to my plate and showing me one of the bottles, “that’s only a couple drakes.”

Okay, then, I’ll bite. I responded in affirmation, leaving the silver on the bar. She quickly scooped the coins away and uncorked the Surilie bottle with such well practiced movements I wouldn’t have been surprised if she had done it all her life. She then poured a small amount into the goblet, and handed it to me. I gave the goblet a quick stir, allowing the smoky aroma to escape, and brought it to my lips…

The subtleties of black cherries and a hint of olive danced across my palate, invigorating the flavors of tomato and onion and bringing all the delicate nuances of the rich sauce to the tip of my tongue. This was contrasted by the bold plum of the Tamika’s, which also contained a strange k’lah-like flavor, but tangier and richer, and that wine caused all the delicate flavors of the meat to explode through their natural veils and left my palate with a rich, invigorated feeling like nothing I could ever describe.

“Pretty good?” Nerussa asked, grinning with satisfaction and curiosity.

“Words can’t even to describe them,” I replied, “What was that flavor in the Tamika’s? I’ve never tasted anything quite like it before.”

“Ahh, yes, you and a lot of other people,” Nerussa answered, recorking the bottles and putting them back beneath the bar, “it’s cocoa. It comes from Summerset, and costs quite a sum to export, so you would be looking at a Septim a goblet for that one.”

I nearly gagged on my food when I heard the cost.

“Seriously?”

“The bottle itself is worth five,” she filled in, sending my head reeling.

“Wow, you really do love your wine,” I nearly stammered, it took a lot more effort to keep my voice straight than I thought it would.

“Well, I guess you could say that,” Nerussa replied airily, then her gaze quickly shifted behind me. “Alright, you three have had QUITE enough!” She shouted, making me jump.

Her words were met by a raucous whooping, and I turned around to see one of the guests was dancing around on the table minus his shirt, scattering plates and tankards all over the floor. I would hazard a guess that he was thinking that he was showing off his manliness to Nerussa, but it was hard to tell. I then noticed movement in the corner of my eye and saw a muscular Imperial in dark clothes march up to the table and direct the guests out.

“I didn’t see that guy last time I was here,” I told Nerussa, hoping she might shed some light on him.

“Oh, he’s my new bouncer,” she answered, turning back to cleaning her dishes, “It was actually that fight you witnessed that told me I needed one, so there you go. He’s helped quite a bit with getting some of the guests here under control, but you still get people like them from time to time.”

“I see,” I acknowledged before swinging the topic back, “so you were saying that you loved wine?”

“Oh, yes, I do,” she said, a faint blush creeping into her full cheeks, “I’ve held a burning passion for wine all my life. Ever since I opened the inn here, it’s nearly all I’ve been spending my earnings on. I have almost every wine you could imagine right here under this roof, including some classics that date all the way back to the Interregnum. But there’s one kind that’s always eluded me no matter how hard I looked.”

“And which was that?” I asked, my curiosity once again perked.

“It’s an ancient vintage called Shadowbanish. It’s incredibly rare because the vintner only produced one small batch before they disappeared. No one knows what happened to the vineyard, but a few bottles of Shadowbanish are rumored to still exist, and I’ve been dying to get my hands on some.”

“Well, I am planning on a lot of traveling in the near future,” I mused aloud, finishing the last of my dinner, “so I’ll be sure to remember you if I find some.”

“You would do that? You barely even know me,” Nerussa replied bemusedly, making me realize she had been talking more to herself than anyone else. She quickly recovered her poise, though, and gave me a stunning smile in response.

“You are very kind to offer. If you do find some, I would pay you handsomely for each bottle you find.”

I smiled back, but couldn’t really say much else but thank her for the meal and her time before I retired upstairs; the look on her face had stolen all the words from my tongue. Once I shut the door, I fell to the bed with an elated feeling in my heart, like I had finally found myself again.

That’s the spirit, the familiar nagging voice of my subconscious replied. This gave me another, stranger feeling that soon, we were going to become very close.

A nice summation of the Go Fish quest. Deciding which quests you want to skim over and which ones you want to make your own is an ongoing challenge, and I think you did well with this. The segue into the Shadowbanish quest was so smoothly done, I found myself enjoying this version of Nerussa as much as the Nerussa of the TF!

I've noticed that my female PC's get that from female NPC's all the time! WTF?

WOO HOO! Acadian is going to have a field day with all the descriptive meals in your story!!

Your attention to detail and description gave this chapter such an immersive feel! Awesome write!! Dere has so much depth as a character, the reader is left with a lingering sensation of his mood and emotions at the end of each chapter. You have a knack for writing memorable characters that matches SubRosa's, and I love how you have portrayed Nerussa! Hugely satisfying chapter !!

Something to make me feel better, I finished inside my head.
Very well put! Often acts of altruism are just attempts to assuage a guilty conscience.

I only need about two or three more and I can scale ‘em myself
That's all! That lousy fetcher made me get him twelve!

I noticed her movements were well practiced and quite graceful, as if she were dancing with the flames.
This was well put!

including some classics that date all the way back to the Interregnum
What's this, a bottle of 400 year old Flin that Pappy has not yet stolen!

All in all a good, relatively quiet episode where Derelas can get himself back on an even keel once more.

nits:
“Stellar{,} can’t even to describe them,”
I think you meant for a comma where I inserted one above.

Most of what I would say has already been said, but at the risk of repeating....what an excellent job of having Dere deal with his guilt.

Great installment!

A wonderful set up for both these quests, making it perfectly natural that Derelas would want to do them both.

'The subtleties of black cherries and a hint of olive danced across my palate, invigorating the flavors of tomato and onion and bringing all the delicate nuances of the rich sauce to the tip of my tongue. This was contrasted by the bold plum of the Tamika’s, which also contained a strange k’lah-like flavor, but tangier and richer, and that wine caused all the delicate flavors of the meat to explode through their natural veils and left my palate with a rich, invigorated feeling like nothing I could ever describe.'
Methinks TK has been talking to Derelas about all his quilliarie culonary, kwilinery, um chow expertise! Yum!

Very nice job with Nerussa and, as said above, delightful segue into her quest.

Fun to read and tells us more about Derelas.

@naughty haute: The main reason I skimmed over the quest in the fic is the same reason I skimmed over it in the game. How could I possibly explain fishing in the form of waving a sharp metal stick at a swimming mouth of teeth while underwater? The quest made absolutely no sense at all, therefore I hook into it, I make it done, I briefly explain how, and that's that.

@mALX: Kind words indeed! Thank you for that!

@SubRosa: Better make sure Pappy isn't reading this, then.
As for your nit, there was never supposed to be a comma in that sentence, so I've reworded it slightly to make that seem more apparent.

@TheOtherRick: Thank you.

@Acadian: How would you like my personal Osso Bucco recipe? (sent you a PM). Quill-canary is my specialty, after all!

@all: as you may have noticed, now that I have set up the main characters and made you like them, things are getting darker now. This will continue, as this story is planned to follow a basic three-act arc.

next:We arrive at the Cheydinhal guild, and deal with a certain corrupted magister...






“Yes, is there some astoundingly important reason for you to waste my time, Associate?”

The venom in the Altmer’s voice was palpable. I had finally arrived in Cheydinhal after four more days on the road. I was tired, my feet ached, and so did my back from lugging this rucksack around. The last thing I needed right now was another Altmer so full of himself that if he took one more breath of hot air he’d be floating.

“Sorry to intrude, Magister, I just wanted to ask if you have any Recommendation tasks available,” I replied, struggling to keep my bubbling temper under control.

“You?” The Magister scoffed, “If I were to give Recommendations to just anyone, some worthless Associate like yourself could go and blow up the Arena! What makes you think you’re worthy of a recommendation from me?” His words stung, and I now found myself fighting a strong urge to put my fist into his overbearing face.

“Falcar!” A voice cried out indignantly, carrying the telltale hiss of Argonian. The Altmer in front of me then shut his eyes tightly in exasperation.

“Fine,” He then answered, opening his eyes, “because Deetsan is so insistent, I might have something for you. I need you to go round the back of the guild hall and retrieve a ring of mine from inside the well.”

“How did it get down there?” I asked.

“You are talking when I am talking, Associate; do I look like I have time to deal with your insipid queries? Just bring that ring back, and I’ll consider your request.”

Why did I find that so hard to believe? Was it the excessively self-righteous attitude, or perhaps that he seemed to treat everyone around him as a noble would a beggar? It was hard for me to tell, but what I did know was that I didn’t last five minutes with this guy without coming to hate his guts. Perhaps he would warm up in the end, though, like Teekeus did? I figured it was worth a shot.

“Ah, you’re learning, good,” Falcar’s gratingly proud voice shook me out of my thoughts. Apparently he had confused my silence for assent, which only served to make me dislike him even more. “Now, since Deetsan seems to have taken a fancy to you, she’ll provide you with whatever assistance you may need. Now leave me be, I have far more important things to do than chat with you right now.” With that, he turned on his heel and disappeared through the basement door.

Deetsan, as it turned out, was indeed Argonian. She had a look in her eyes I could just make out to be concern, and perhaps a fleck of anger, as I walked over to the small desk she was sitting at.

“I’m sorry you had to be welcomed to our guild that way, Associate. Falcar can be quite unfriendly to our newer members at times,” she explained to me, gesturing to a chair beside her.

“I noticed,” I replied, taking the empty seat before continuing, “he said you’d be able to help me with his task.”

“It depends on what he told you to do,” Deetsan answered. I proceeded to explain his request.

“…so, I don’t really know why he thinks I would need any help for that, but…”

“Stop,” Deetsan’s hissing voice broke the air like a cracking whip, but it was not a low hiss of anger… it was high-pitched. Was that fear? “Don’t tell me he gave you the same task he gave Vidkun!”

“What? What happened to Vidkin?” I asked. This was getting more and more ominous with every passing minute. When I first entered the guild hall the tension in the air was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Deetsan also looked genuinely afraid in the brief glance I caught of her after her outburst over Falcar’s bullying me. I already knew very well that he preferred the iron fist approach to running things, but there was something else to him, something that made my neck hairs stand on end whenever I looked at him.

“Nobody knows,” Deetsan replied to my question, “All we do know is that Falcar asked him to do the same thing he just asked you to do, and we never saw him again.”

“So I take it I should be extra careful when investigating that well?”

“No, I’m suggesting you don’t do anything, at least, not until I’ve spoken to Falcar,” Deetsan replied heatedly. “The risk to your life is too great.”

I had to admit, she had a point. If the task I had now resulted in the disappearance of another mage, it might not be a very good idea to just jump into that well and go searching for the ring.

“Hang on…” Deetsan suddenly chimed, “let me see that ring on your finger.”

“What, this?” I asked pulling off the silver ring Aelwin gave me, “It was a gift from a fisherman down the way of Weye. What’s so important about it?”

Deetsan didn’t reply immediately, she was deeply concentrated on the ring… which I noticed was now glowing. There must be more to the thing than being just a simple memento. When Deetsan finally looked back up at me, she wore an expression of shocked amazement.

“Why didn’t you tell me this ring allows you to breathe underwater?” She inquired indignantly.

“Seriously? I didn’t know anything about that, how did you find out?”

“I’m Argonian, I know my water breathing quite well,” Deetsan replied, handing the ring back to me. “Well, this changes everything. I’m going to go have a chat with Falcar over how he treated you. Since there’s no danger to you down in that well anymore, I’d like you to go down there and investigate.” She then reached into her pocket, pulled a small key off of a key ring, and handed it to me. “If you find the ring, please bring it back, and if you find Vidkun…” she turned away, a very uneasy look in her eye, “… just let me know, okay?”




----




Okay, Deetsan, just be calm, keep a straight head, and everything will be fine… I think.

Deetsan had pondered everything she wished to say down to the last word on her way downstairs, so why did she now find it so difficult to knock on his door? Every time she tried to stand up to him, her courage faltered every single time she reached this very spot, and it was now, too.

Stay calm, keep your scales straight.

But what will he do to me when he finds out what I want to say? It wouldn’t be the first time he exploded, and there’s no doubt he will now.

Courage, Deetsan, remember courage. Your conviction cannot be shattered by his fists.

Okay, I’m ready now, she thought. She moved her fist over the door, and rapped it thrice.

“I do hope this is important enough to be worth your interruption…” Falcar’s voice rang through the cracks in the wooden paneling of the doorframe as his footsteps grew closer. The force with which he threw it open nearly made her flinch, but Deetsan quickly recovered herself.

“Oh, it’s you,” Falcar stated bluntly, but looking no less irritated, “well, what is it?”

“You treated that poor Associate back there very roughly, just now,” Deetsan began, hoping to the Gods that he would not notice the rehearsed quality of her voice.

“So?” Falcar countered, “They need to be set off on the right foot, you know. Being a member of this guild is no small matter.”

“Yes, but…” Deetsan tried to begin, but Falcar quickly cut her off.

“That is all,” Falcar concluded, waving his hand in dismissal. “If this is all you wish to discuss, it’s not worth my time.”

“Well then make it worth your time,” Deetsan boldly replied, her voice now a low hiss of anger. “You are driving people away from us with your attitude…” she had a lot more to say at this point, but Falcar quickly cut her off.

“Now you listen here,” he said, his voice rising, “I’m am the Magister here, so what I say goes! I don’t give scamp’s claw what you think, I’ll run this place the way I see fit; clear?!”

“Well, turns out I do have a problem with your leadership,” Deetsan argued back, abandoning pretence and allowing the many years of seething hatred for this overbearing dictator to come forth, “Why is it you punish anyone who sets one toe out of line as severely as you do?! Why do you persistently ignore the needs of our lesser members, who are the very life blood of this guild?!”

“BE SILENT!” Falcar roared, “I will not tolerate such behavior under my watch! Leave now, and hope I don’t have you thrown out of this guild for good!”

“You should have reported Vidkun’s disappearance to the council, you monster,” Deetsan found her voice was shaking now, “I should’ve turned you in the moment you tried to pretend it never happened.”

Falcar proceeded to turn very red. “Oh, I see…” Falcar began, his voice crackling with electricity, “…so you are going play it that way, then.”

He then silently walked up to Deetsan… and slammed his fist into her chest.

“YOU… INSOLENT… LITTLE… TADPOLE!” He raged, accenting every word with as strong a punch as he could muster. “You have no idea what you are getting yourself into! Your precious Guild will not stand to see the light of day without me! You’re days are numbered, you know!”

He then threw the winded and utterly shocked Argonian to the ground, “You have no idea what you’ve just unleashed, mark my words!” With that, he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. He left Deetsan on the floor clutching her stomach, breathing heavily, and her face shining with tears.

SPEW !!!! How could I not love THAT line?? AWESOME the way you slid that in there !!!




How perfect a detail that is - and apropos !!!






ROFL !!!



OMG ... WHEW! I couldn't breathe while reading the last three paragraphs!!! That was so powerfully done that it left me shaken!!! HUGE ending, Thomas Kaira - Huge, Awesome write !!!