Now that was a harrowing battle with the King and his zombified servants! You took it right down to the very narrowest point, making me wonder if it was indeed curtains for our Redguard heroine.
What really struck me about this segment however was the first thing she did after she realized the lich was destroyed. Rather than fumble for a torch - like any self-respecting Redguard - she instead used a light spell. Once again, in a very subtle way you show us how much she has changed since the beginning of this tale.
Full Version: Old Habits Die Hard Part Six
I just read the last two installments and am now thinking of making myself hot chocolate with marshmallows to calm myself down! The suspense, the feeling of being watched, of a trap being sprung, came through almost too clearly. And oh compassion, a lich, and she's surrounded, then that battle... Julian escaping by the skin of her teeth, whew! I certainly don't blame her for being skeptical of that key...
QUOTE(SubRosa @ Aug 29 2011, 12:13 PM) 
What really struck me about this segment however was the first thing she did after she realized the lich was destroyed. Rather than fumble for a torch - like any self-respecting Redguard - she instead used a light spell. Once again, in a very subtle way you show us how much she has changed since the beginning of this tale.
I echo this. I also liked your depiction of Julian’s acceptance of her impending doom. There was no panic or anxious railing against the will of Gods or fate. There was only a calm resignation that washed over her, mixed with a profound sorrow that she failed her Emperor and friend. I also got the impression that there was almost a sense of relief as well. What an amazing way to present just how much her trials have taken out of her.
The fact that she is willing to press on into the unknown despite her depleted condition gives yet another clear indicator of the pride that drives her. It amazes me that something as Nirn-bound as injuries was enough to steal that pride from her for a time . . . or can we infer that this new pride is partially a result of her need to escape the past?
All in all, this one joins Fort Grief and Sancre Tor as one of my favorite fight sequences in OHDH!
So now we know what bits of a Lich come off!
It's good to know she's still wary of the path the key will open, as I've had problems with the last few dread zombies on the way out. They just seem to know when your weapon is drained. Maybe I should have taken a dog with me?
It's good to know she's still wary of the path the key will open, as I've had problems with the last few dread zombies on the way out. They just seem to know when your weapon is drained. Maybe I should have taken a dog with me?
I found myself expecting Julian to summon Domina Incendia, but I guess it was close quarters on that dais. An exciting and interesting fight, did the third zombie run away?
Then everything else paled in comparison to Julian’s sorrow when she thought she had failed. I wonder if Martin will see a change in her when she returns to CRT.
Then everything else paled in comparison to Julian’s sorrow when she thought she had failed. I wonder if Martin will see a change in her when she returns to CRT.
Another nail biter! 
I sort of figured this was coming after the wonderful build up. I’m so glad that Julian was able to ‘encourage’ the zombies over the edge of her limited fighting space.
What a relief that the lich king went down as Julian did. Even a greater relief that he didn’t get back up like our Redguard.
’If my hair hadn’t already gone white, it would be now! I could still feel the last vestiges of that enchantment trailing silver pain along my nerves.’
A chillingly effective reminder of Julian’s history with a goblin shaman wielding a similar staff so long ago.
’Now certain that this undead being was indeed - dead, what else to call it? Inanimate?’
A great way of dealing with something that may not make perfect sense. Have your character address it directly and scratch their head right along with the rest of us. Well done!
I sort of figured this was coming after the wonderful build up. I’m so glad that Julian was able to ‘encourage’ the zombies over the edge of her limited fighting space.
What a relief that the lich king went down as Julian did. Even a greater relief that he didn’t get back up like our Redguard.
’If my hair hadn’t already gone white, it would be now! I could still feel the last vestiges of that enchantment trailing silver pain along my nerves.’
A chillingly effective reminder of Julian’s history with a goblin shaman wielding a similar staff so long ago.
’Now certain that this undead being was indeed - dead, what else to call it? Inanimate?’
A great way of dealing with something that may not make perfect sense. Have your character address it directly and scratch their head right along with the rest of us. Well done!
Bloody good writing, Hautee - in more ways than one!
Quite the battle. I liked how short you mad this one, the build up was all tension then the fight paid off all the intensity in a single bang. It worked very well for such a powerful opponent (I suspect the king of Miscarcand may be the most powerful she's faced in many ways) and showed another side to her fighting than the duelling with the undead blades in Sancre Tor.
Her thinking she'd lost, then the tired aftermath, were very well written. I also noticed the light spell rather than a torch. Then her making sure the lich was not a threat (I liked the 'is it dead' quandry) fitted. I suspect she may find that key useful, though the crown might be worth something too.
Her thinking she'd lost, then the tired aftermath, were very well written. I also noticed the light spell rather than a torch. Then her making sure the lich was not a threat (I liked the 'is it dead' quandry) fitted. I suspect she may find that key useful, though the crown might be worth something too.
@SubRosa: Indeed, Miscarcand was a harrowing experience for our white-haired Redguard - likely more harrowing than that goblin shaman that crippled her so long ago. Julian's not saying.
@Kazaera: Yes, Julian is too experienced to assume it's over until it's over. She has seen too many good people die by a stray arrow in the aftermath of a heated battle.
@Destri: Many thanks to both you and SubRosa for pointing out that Julian uses a light spell instead of groping for a torch. She has become familiar with the darkness in so many lands - her night vision is almost as good as a cat's. She is learning how handy magic can be - it really lightens her load. She is still very conscious of her magical limitations compared to say, an Altmer or a Breton (as am I, since I am currently playing a Breton witch/mage character). After twenty years in the Legion, Julian has accepted death, and has accepted that her ending will likely be violent. Live by the sword, die by the sword. In any case, your assessment of the source of her grief in that lowest moment is accurate - she is more upset by letting Martin Septim down than she is about her impending death.
@ghastley: My enchanted weapons always run out of charge in that place! Actually that's where I learned to always carry a soul gem or two with me!
@Grits: Yes, there was so little room on the end of that dais, between the two pillars bracketing it and the large plinth where the stone rests. She's not adept enough at controlling her summons to keep them from attacking her companions yet.
@Acadian: I'm glad this kept you on the edge of your seat. That was just what I was going for. Julian relived her goblin experience in so many ways in this place. It is the most terrifying day she has spent since she was a prisoner of the Skyrim goblins. Not only did she had to confront the denizens of this place, she also had to confront her own demons. Thank you for picking up on her humor so soon after her near death experience when she dwells a moment on what you call dead undead.
@Foxy: Thank you, my vulpine friend! I am fortunate indeed to have a Maestro to learn combat writing from.
@Olen: Honestly, most one-on-one battles are pretty short. It's rare, IMHO, that these things can go on for very long. I watch boxing once in a while, and I can see how quickly these boxers start staggering around from the punches. And this is just sport! And I know how a short combat scene is more effective at blowing up the tension built up beforehand. Yes, the King of Miscarcand is the most powerful opponent Julian has faced, both in game and here in OHDH. And it seems that several of our readers have realized how much Julian has come to rely on her magical abilities before she herself did.
The story so far: Deep in the bowels of Miscarcand, Julian has recovered the Great Welkynd stone and defeated the King of Miscarcand. Now she has to get out of there.
**************************
Chapter 28.8: A Kind of Recovery
I looked back to where Sai rested beside my pack and Glance. My heart skipped a beat when I realized he hadn’t moved, that he still lay with his head between his forepaws. “Lucky?” I whispered. “Sai, are you all right?” Only the white tip of his tail flickered in the dimness. He fought bravely beside me. He was hit by that damned staff, too. And that third zombie sent him flying. But if not for him, I wouldn’t have survived.
Slowly, fear and worry a walnut in my throat, I moved back to the dog. Again his tail flickered, and his eyes rolled toward me. With Touch back in its sheath, I knelt beside him and touched his ears, acutely aware of his wispy breathing. He did not move. Slowly, hesitantly, I ran my hands over him. He whined when my palms touched painful areas, and his shallow breathing stopped when my left fingers found an area of odd motion over the left side of his rib cage. Instead of expanding with each breath, this patch of chest wall collapsed inward as the ribs around them rose beneath my palm. I counted off three broken ribs.
Maybe worse? Internal bleeding? I tried to remember similar injuries on the battlefields, how the healers treated them. Flail chest, they called this. Serious, even life-threatening. I pulled the nearby pack closer to me and rummaged within its contents, careful to avoid knocking the three magical stones together. My fingers found the small vial with the twisted snake embossed in the glass.
Thank you, Selena Orania. I uncorked the strong healing potion she had given me so long ago, just before I left Bruma for this place. I hope you don’t mind that I’m going to give this to a dog. He may not live long enough for my magicka to replenish itself so I can heal him.
His head was heavy in my left hand as I lifted it from the cold stone floor. His eyes, their azure color still visible in this gloom, blinked dully at me. “Drink this for me, Sai,” I murmured, slipping the neck of the vial into the corner of his lips. My hands shaking, I slowly dribbled the valuable liquid into his mouth, tipping his head back slightly so the potion would run down his throat. After a moment, he swallowed, and his tongue flickered in and out of his mouth.
His eyes closed, and Sai’s breathing grew less ragged. I could feel the powerful muscles across the top of his head soften as I rubbed his ears gently. After a few moments, I eased his head back down to the floor.
Orania had slipped a few vials of restore magicka into my pack as well. She had been interested in my tale of Paint’s encounter with the will o’wisp and how Marz had taught me to strengthen his magicka. I held the three small vials cupped in my right palm and considered them. Do I take them now, so I can heal Sai sooner? Or do I wait and let my magicka regenerate naturally, and use these after I’ve healed him? For certain that’s going to use up all my power and skills. I don’t want to be without it until we are safe within the walls of Skingrad. I blinked at the realization of how much my magicka had become a part of my everyday life, after so many years of ignoring it.
I decided to wait, and tucked the vials into a fold of my pack. A check of my quiver told me I had about ten arrows left. Three soul gems waited in an outer pocket of the bag, ready to hand. I pulled one of them out and hefted it thoughtfully. Something swirled within its smoky grey depths. I need to recharge Touch. I unsheathed the katana and wiped the blade smooth with the refresh spell. It drank the power greedily as the soul gem crumbled into dust in my hand. I recognized the glimmer that told me the blade’s enchantment was restored.
My starlight spell faded, but I did not refresh it. Instead I sat beside Sai in the dimness, my hand on his back. His breaths came and went regularly beneath my palm, though that broken part still moved opposite to his respirations. I could feel the persistent pain, which urged me to act. Resisting the temptation, I made myself wait until my magicka was fully restored.
Sai’s breathing quickened, became less regular. The potion’s wearing off. He’s getting more painful again. I looked inward. My magicka burned bright. Let’s hope it’s enough to help him. Seated tailor-fashion at his right side, I leaned over Sai’s back and laid my hands gently on either side of the flail segment. First I have to absorb the pain. Then I need to stabilize that part of the chest wall. Only then can I heal the broken ribs. I closed my eyes and began.
Agony surged up my hands into my chest, and turned my respirations more ragged against the added burden. My own bruises and injuries faded before the severity of Sai’s injury. His magicka flickered weakly with his heartbeat, still erratic after those shock bolts from the lich.
I almost drew my hands away from the unbearable pain. I can’t let him suffer alone. Somehow I found the strength to keep my own respirations deep and regular, to keep my own heartbeat slow and constant. This absorbed Sai’s suffering, and made it easier for him to bear. When he relaxed again beneath my hands, I called on my magicka. I opened my eyes to see a web of argent threads weaving over his chest between my hands, disappearing beneath his pelt. I followed those thin strands of power and felt my way through his skin into the chest wall. Using my magicka instead of my fingers, I felt the splintered ends of the broken ribs, the torn muscles, the battered lung tissue beneath.
Gently I eased that broken patch upwards until it rested beneath my crossed thumbs. Now it moved correctly with each respiration, but the pain still persisted. I took that pain and used it to combine his and my magicka together, to begin knitting the broken ribs. The bone splinters dissolved, the broken ends touched each other and fused, and knobs replaced the gaps.
I remembered to breathe as Sai’s agony eased abruptly. It still hurt for him to breathe, but no longer were those broken ribs banging against his lung with each breath. That’s the bone. Now for the muscle. I knew the next part was equally important, for without intact muscle connecting the ribs to each other, they wouldn’t expand and contract normally. As I had done when I healed his broken shoulder, I slowly knitted back fragmented muscle fibers until a thin sheet replaced torn tissue.
Sai took a deep breath as the last of my magicka faded away. Then another deep breath, and one more before he picked his head up and turned those blue eyes on me. As I sat back, lowering my hands from his body, he laid his right forepaw over my right knee. The waving of his tail was just a streak of white in the dimness, but it made me smile in relief.
“You’re going to be all right, lucky boy,” I managed to whisper. I lay down on the cold stone, trying to shake off the remnants of his suffering that still vibrated through my body. Sai licked my face again and pawed at me, but he remained on his belly next to me. I touched his ears again, and sensed the lingering pain from his bruises. “I’m sorry, but I’m all used up,” I murmured to him. “Let’s just rest a few moments, then I’ll try again.”
A few hours later, both of us were recovered enough to pick ourselves up and leave that cursed chamber. With heavy pack thrumming against my still-bruised back, I kept Touch unsheathed. When we returned to the passageway, I discovered a new room beyond that hidden door. So this is where the King waited in ambush. When I took that Great Welkynd stone from the cradle, it must have triggered this door. I could still see its worn edge tucked up into a groove in the ceiling above my head.
The room was lit by more of the smaller Welkynd stones tumbled together in a black metal basket suspended above a stone sarcophagus. I gave the structure a wide berth. This was supposed to be the King’s last resting place.
This time when I used my detect life spell, an upright glow appeared behind the blank stone wall making up the right side of the room. Another secret door? This place is full of them! I moved around the coffin. My foot felt something shift under it, then rumbling on both sides of the room warned me of more traps. This time the blank stone walls slid downward, one on each side of the space. The pink glow I had seen earlier turned out to be another skeleton, this one heavily armed with shield and hammer.
Both Sai and I were slowed by our recent ordeal with the lich King, but we managed to defend ourselves against the undead guardian. Between Sai’s tendency to grab shin bones and Touch’s enchantment, we made short work of the shambling skeleton.
Behind the other door was another bronze gate. This one had a lock plate on it. I fumbled out the key I had removed from the undead King’s carcass and tried it in the slot. The satisfying click of the tumblers told me I had guessed right.
Do I follow this passage, or backtrack the way we came? I looked down at Sai. He returned my gaze, then walked into the corridor, pausing to look over his shoulder at me. All right, Lucky, if you say so.
@Kazaera: Yes, Julian is too experienced to assume it's over until it's over. She has seen too many good people die by a stray arrow in the aftermath of a heated battle.
@Destri: Many thanks to both you and SubRosa for pointing out that Julian uses a light spell instead of groping for a torch. She has become familiar with the darkness in so many lands - her night vision is almost as good as a cat's. She is learning how handy magic can be - it really lightens her load. She is still very conscious of her magical limitations compared to say, an Altmer or a Breton (as am I, since I am currently playing a Breton witch/mage character). After twenty years in the Legion, Julian has accepted death, and has accepted that her ending will likely be violent. Live by the sword, die by the sword. In any case, your assessment of the source of her grief in that lowest moment is accurate - she is more upset by letting Martin Septim down than she is about her impending death.
@ghastley: My enchanted weapons always run out of charge in that place! Actually that's where I learned to always carry a soul gem or two with me!
@Grits: Yes, there was so little room on the end of that dais, between the two pillars bracketing it and the large plinth where the stone rests. She's not adept enough at controlling her summons to keep them from attacking her companions yet.
@Acadian: I'm glad this kept you on the edge of your seat. That was just what I was going for. Julian relived her goblin experience in so many ways in this place. It is the most terrifying day she has spent since she was a prisoner of the Skyrim goblins. Not only did she had to confront the denizens of this place, she also had to confront her own demons. Thank you for picking up on her humor so soon after her near death experience when she dwells a moment on what you call dead undead.
@Foxy: Thank you, my vulpine friend! I am fortunate indeed to have a Maestro to learn combat writing from.
@Olen: Honestly, most one-on-one battles are pretty short. It's rare, IMHO, that these things can go on for very long. I watch boxing once in a while, and I can see how quickly these boxers start staggering around from the punches. And this is just sport! And I know how a short combat scene is more effective at blowing up the tension built up beforehand. Yes, the King of Miscarcand is the most powerful opponent Julian has faced, both in game and here in OHDH. And it seems that several of our readers have realized how much Julian has come to rely on her magical abilities before she herself did.
The story so far: Deep in the bowels of Miscarcand, Julian has recovered the Great Welkynd stone and defeated the King of Miscarcand. Now she has to get out of there.
**************************
Chapter 28.8: A Kind of Recovery
I looked back to where Sai rested beside my pack and Glance. My heart skipped a beat when I realized he hadn’t moved, that he still lay with his head between his forepaws. “Lucky?” I whispered. “Sai, are you all right?” Only the white tip of his tail flickered in the dimness. He fought bravely beside me. He was hit by that damned staff, too. And that third zombie sent him flying. But if not for him, I wouldn’t have survived.
Slowly, fear and worry a walnut in my throat, I moved back to the dog. Again his tail flickered, and his eyes rolled toward me. With Touch back in its sheath, I knelt beside him and touched his ears, acutely aware of his wispy breathing. He did not move. Slowly, hesitantly, I ran my hands over him. He whined when my palms touched painful areas, and his shallow breathing stopped when my left fingers found an area of odd motion over the left side of his rib cage. Instead of expanding with each breath, this patch of chest wall collapsed inward as the ribs around them rose beneath my palm. I counted off three broken ribs.
Maybe worse? Internal bleeding? I tried to remember similar injuries on the battlefields, how the healers treated them. Flail chest, they called this. Serious, even life-threatening. I pulled the nearby pack closer to me and rummaged within its contents, careful to avoid knocking the three magical stones together. My fingers found the small vial with the twisted snake embossed in the glass.
Thank you, Selena Orania. I uncorked the strong healing potion she had given me so long ago, just before I left Bruma for this place. I hope you don’t mind that I’m going to give this to a dog. He may not live long enough for my magicka to replenish itself so I can heal him.
His head was heavy in my left hand as I lifted it from the cold stone floor. His eyes, their azure color still visible in this gloom, blinked dully at me. “Drink this for me, Sai,” I murmured, slipping the neck of the vial into the corner of his lips. My hands shaking, I slowly dribbled the valuable liquid into his mouth, tipping his head back slightly so the potion would run down his throat. After a moment, he swallowed, and his tongue flickered in and out of his mouth.
His eyes closed, and Sai’s breathing grew less ragged. I could feel the powerful muscles across the top of his head soften as I rubbed his ears gently. After a few moments, I eased his head back down to the floor.
Orania had slipped a few vials of restore magicka into my pack as well. She had been interested in my tale of Paint’s encounter with the will o’wisp and how Marz had taught me to strengthen his magicka. I held the three small vials cupped in my right palm and considered them. Do I take them now, so I can heal Sai sooner? Or do I wait and let my magicka regenerate naturally, and use these after I’ve healed him? For certain that’s going to use up all my power and skills. I don’t want to be without it until we are safe within the walls of Skingrad. I blinked at the realization of how much my magicka had become a part of my everyday life, after so many years of ignoring it.
I decided to wait, and tucked the vials into a fold of my pack. A check of my quiver told me I had about ten arrows left. Three soul gems waited in an outer pocket of the bag, ready to hand. I pulled one of them out and hefted it thoughtfully. Something swirled within its smoky grey depths. I need to recharge Touch. I unsheathed the katana and wiped the blade smooth with the refresh spell. It drank the power greedily as the soul gem crumbled into dust in my hand. I recognized the glimmer that told me the blade’s enchantment was restored.
My starlight spell faded, but I did not refresh it. Instead I sat beside Sai in the dimness, my hand on his back. His breaths came and went regularly beneath my palm, though that broken part still moved opposite to his respirations. I could feel the persistent pain, which urged me to act. Resisting the temptation, I made myself wait until my magicka was fully restored.
Sai’s breathing quickened, became less regular. The potion’s wearing off. He’s getting more painful again. I looked inward. My magicka burned bright. Let’s hope it’s enough to help him. Seated tailor-fashion at his right side, I leaned over Sai’s back and laid my hands gently on either side of the flail segment. First I have to absorb the pain. Then I need to stabilize that part of the chest wall. Only then can I heal the broken ribs. I closed my eyes and began.
Agony surged up my hands into my chest, and turned my respirations more ragged against the added burden. My own bruises and injuries faded before the severity of Sai’s injury. His magicka flickered weakly with his heartbeat, still erratic after those shock bolts from the lich.
I almost drew my hands away from the unbearable pain. I can’t let him suffer alone. Somehow I found the strength to keep my own respirations deep and regular, to keep my own heartbeat slow and constant. This absorbed Sai’s suffering, and made it easier for him to bear. When he relaxed again beneath my hands, I called on my magicka. I opened my eyes to see a web of argent threads weaving over his chest between my hands, disappearing beneath his pelt. I followed those thin strands of power and felt my way through his skin into the chest wall. Using my magicka instead of my fingers, I felt the splintered ends of the broken ribs, the torn muscles, the battered lung tissue beneath.
Gently I eased that broken patch upwards until it rested beneath my crossed thumbs. Now it moved correctly with each respiration, but the pain still persisted. I took that pain and used it to combine his and my magicka together, to begin knitting the broken ribs. The bone splinters dissolved, the broken ends touched each other and fused, and knobs replaced the gaps.
I remembered to breathe as Sai’s agony eased abruptly. It still hurt for him to breathe, but no longer were those broken ribs banging against his lung with each breath. That’s the bone. Now for the muscle. I knew the next part was equally important, for without intact muscle connecting the ribs to each other, they wouldn’t expand and contract normally. As I had done when I healed his broken shoulder, I slowly knitted back fragmented muscle fibers until a thin sheet replaced torn tissue.
Sai took a deep breath as the last of my magicka faded away. Then another deep breath, and one more before he picked his head up and turned those blue eyes on me. As I sat back, lowering my hands from his body, he laid his right forepaw over my right knee. The waving of his tail was just a streak of white in the dimness, but it made me smile in relief.
“You’re going to be all right, lucky boy,” I managed to whisper. I lay down on the cold stone, trying to shake off the remnants of his suffering that still vibrated through my body. Sai licked my face again and pawed at me, but he remained on his belly next to me. I touched his ears again, and sensed the lingering pain from his bruises. “I’m sorry, but I’m all used up,” I murmured to him. “Let’s just rest a few moments, then I’ll try again.”
A few hours later, both of us were recovered enough to pick ourselves up and leave that cursed chamber. With heavy pack thrumming against my still-bruised back, I kept Touch unsheathed. When we returned to the passageway, I discovered a new room beyond that hidden door. So this is where the King waited in ambush. When I took that Great Welkynd stone from the cradle, it must have triggered this door. I could still see its worn edge tucked up into a groove in the ceiling above my head.
The room was lit by more of the smaller Welkynd stones tumbled together in a black metal basket suspended above a stone sarcophagus. I gave the structure a wide berth. This was supposed to be the King’s last resting place.
This time when I used my detect life spell, an upright glow appeared behind the blank stone wall making up the right side of the room. Another secret door? This place is full of them! I moved around the coffin. My foot felt something shift under it, then rumbling on both sides of the room warned me of more traps. This time the blank stone walls slid downward, one on each side of the space. The pink glow I had seen earlier turned out to be another skeleton, this one heavily armed with shield and hammer.
Both Sai and I were slowed by our recent ordeal with the lich King, but we managed to defend ourselves against the undead guardian. Between Sai’s tendency to grab shin bones and Touch’s enchantment, we made short work of the shambling skeleton.
Behind the other door was another bronze gate. This one had a lock plate on it. I fumbled out the key I had removed from the undead King’s carcass and tried it in the slot. The satisfying click of the tumblers told me I had guessed right.
Do I follow this passage, or backtrack the way we came? I looked down at Sai. He returned my gaze, then walked into the corridor, pausing to look over his shoulder at me. All right, Lucky, if you say so.
More major healing jobs. Sia certainly manages to put himself in harm's way, though perhaps it's just as well for Julian (and just as well for Sai that she is quite a formidable healer now). I think healing him might have helped her too, having to stay in that place might well ease its horror a little and having succeeded perhaps she'll feel a bit better about it.
I think he might have made the righ tchoice with that door too, unless your Miscarcand differs greatly from the in game one.
You've done a very good job with Sai, it normally takes me a long time to get to like a character but you had me worried for a moment there that you were going to kill him off. For a character who doesn't get dialogue you've given him a lot of personality in one chapter. I can't wait to see what they make of him at CRT, or even in Skingrad (he could protect her at a certain guildhall...).
I think he might have made the righ tchoice with that door too, unless your Miscarcand differs greatly from the in game one.
You've done a very good job with Sai, it normally takes me a long time to get to like a character but you had me worried for a moment there that you were going to kill him off. For a character who doesn't get dialogue you've given him a lot of personality in one chapter. I can't wait to see what they make of him at CRT, or even in Skingrad (he could protect her at a certain guildhall...).
Of course, any shortcut one hasn't already used is full of enemies. But the zombie-detector is back in full operation, and there's charge back in Touch, so it shouldn't be too bad, unless carelessness sets in.
If she's going to adventure with Sai more in future, it looks like a few scrolls, rather than potions, would be useful for healing and protecting him. Pity you can't make your own.
If she's going to adventure with Sai more in future, it looks like a few scrolls, rather than potions, would be useful for healing and protecting him. Pity you can't make your own.
What you said about one on one battles, most last only seconds, and are over in the first pass. Skill means everything. A trained fighter will kill an amateur almost instantly. You can see it when you watch the recreationists spar with one another. Those people are serious, use real manuscripts from the middle ages to base their moves on, and do not hold back in the slightest.
fear and worry a walnut in my throat
This was an wonderful passage. Well, maybe not wonderful for Julian, but wonderful for me to read!
I blinked at the realization of how much my magicka had become a part of my everyday life
Indeed. She is Julian the magician now.
A wonderful segment spent on healing Sai. That is indeed one lucky dog! Let's just hope Julian gets him some doggie armor if she is going to keep bringing him to dungeons. Or at least some shield potions.
So this is where the King waited in ambush.
Here's a pic of where the King used to lie in wait...
fear and worry a walnut in my throat
This was an wonderful passage. Well, maybe not wonderful for Julian, but wonderful for me to read!
I blinked at the realization of how much my magicka had become a part of my everyday life
Indeed. She is Julian the magician now.
A wonderful segment spent on healing Sai. That is indeed one lucky dog! Let's just hope Julian gets him some doggie armor if she is going to keep bringing him to dungeons. Or at least some shield potions.
So this is where the King waited in ambush.
Here's a pic of where the King used to lie in wait...
Lots of clinically detailed healing here. Sai did indeed fight bravely and it was wonderful to see Julian’s devotion and concern for him. 
’Between Sai’s tendency to grab shin bones and Touch’s enchantment, we made short work of the shambling skeleton.’
This was great! After all the recent fighting, it was nice to have a short but delightful description with a touch of humor that also serves to show our dynamic duo is (almost) back to full speed.
More a suggestion than a nit: ’Agony surged up my hands into my own chest, making my own respirations turn more ragged against the added burden. My own bruises and injuries faded before the severity of Sai’s injury.’
You might want to tinker with this to avoid using ‘my own’ three times within these two sentences.
’Between Sai’s tendency to grab shin bones and Touch’s enchantment, we made short work of the shambling skeleton.’
This was great! After all the recent fighting, it was nice to have a short but delightful description with a touch of humor that also serves to show our dynamic duo is (almost) back to full speed.
More a suggestion than a nit: ’Agony surged up my hands into my own chest, making my own respirations turn more ragged against the added burden. My own bruises and injuries faded before the severity of Sai’s injury.’
You might want to tinker with this to avoid using ‘my own’ three times within these two sentences.
My heart skipped a beat when I realized he hadn’t moved, that he still lay with his head between his forepaws.
So did mine! I didn’t realize that he was that badly hurt, but of course he’s not wearing an enchanted cuirass. Perhaps a shield collar? Poor Sai! I enjoyed Julian’s thoughts about conserving her magicka. I’ve been spending time with an Atronach, so I also tend to forget about having a more limited pool. That was a good reminder.
I don’t remember much of Miscarcand, but hopefully the secret key means they’re almost out. CRT will be very welcome.
So did mine! I didn’t realize that he was that badly hurt, but of course he’s not wearing an enchanted cuirass. Perhaps a shield collar? Poor Sai! I enjoyed Julian’s thoughts about conserving her magicka. I’ve been spending time with an Atronach, so I also tend to forget about having a more limited pool. That was a good reminder.
I don’t remember much of Miscarcand, but hopefully the secret key means they’re almost out. CRT will be very welcome.
I can see that the veterinarian rises to the challenge once again. As much as I love reading them, I hope that you aren’t getting poor Sai hurt just so that you can revel in your detailed descriptions of healing him! 
That moment when he places his paw on Julian’s knee left a walnut in my throat, and here I thought I was immune to such things!
I echo the sentiment that potions and scrolls would be useful in Julian’s future forays into dark dangerous places with her new sidekick. I also think that some training in Alteration is in order so that Julian can learn to cast a shield that may spare Sai the brunt of any future damage. Right now I think that they have earned a nice peaceful journey back to Cloud Ruler, and Sai has more than earned a well proportioned leg of mutton.
That moment when he places his paw on Julian’s knee left a walnut in my throat, and here I thought I was immune to such things! I echo the sentiment that potions and scrolls would be useful in Julian’s future forays into dark dangerous places with her new sidekick. I also think that some training in Alteration is in order so that Julian can learn to cast a shield that may spare Sai the brunt of any future damage. Right now I think that they have earned a nice peaceful journey back to Cloud Ruler, and Sai has more than earned a well proportioned leg of mutton.
QUOTE(Destri Melarg @ Sep 2 2011, 08:35 PM)
and Sai has more than earned a well proportioned leg of mutton.
Or at least a leg-bone packed with some juicy marrow for a change!
@Olen: You mean to tell me I got a professed cat-lover worried about a dog! 
Wow, I must be doing something right! Yes, Miscarcand is one long stretch of injuries, heal, injuries, heal, injuries, heal, injuries, oh damn, out of magic charge, heal -- If that doesn't make Julian a master of restoration by now . . .!
@ghastley: It was interesting to see Maigret come out with a brace of battle dogs over on TES Nexus right after you and many others commented that Sai would need some kind of shielding. I checked it out, but didn't like the armor. It's bulky, impractical, and would only slow the dogs down as it would interfere with their freedom of movement. Since dogs rely on their speed and agility (almost as much as cats) to stay intact, the armor is a big no-no. You can load it up with magical effects, and I'm still shaking my head. Poor choices there. No protection over vital areas, obstruction of ears and eyes, restriction of lateral movement. Nope. On the other hand, I loved the concept. So I may tinker with it, check out the scripting to see if it can be used with another actor. We'll see.
@SubRosa: I think Miscarcand really brings home the fact that Julian made the right choice in joining the Mages Guild. She is determined to use magic as she has seen battlemages do, and that means a lot of destruction and restoration skillz. She is still the kind of person to do the dirty work herself, so a summons is something she'll use only for distraction or to level the playing field, not as protection.
@Acadian: Thanks for pointing out the nit. I wanted to emphasize that it is Julian who is experiencing Sai's suffering, but like you said, it might be overkill. So I'll keep it in mind and decide sometime today whether to change it or not. I'm glad you liked the short description of how Sai and Julian dealt with that skelly by the sarcophagus. And Julian uses humor the way Abe Lincoln did during the Civil War - if not for it, she'd be a quivering, teary mess of jelly.
@Grits: Julian didn't realize he was that badly hurt either! It was like reliving that will-o-wisp with Paint all over again for both of us. And yes, Julian has a very limited pool of magicka - it took her a long time to reach the point where she could cast four Convalescence spells in a row (like around level 18). And here my novice Breton character is doing it at level three.
@Destri: Sai is a typical dog, always getting in the thick of things. Not like a cat, smart enough to run and hide somewhere until the dust settles. The fact that such a little gesture of Sai's got to you makes me feel validated about my writing. I've actually had patients do that to me when I've been able to give them some measure of relief. As for continuing as her sidekick, I think that's pretty much over. For the rest of the MQ, anyway. Your wish for a peaceful journey back to CRT may be in vain, but not to worry. I'm overdue for feeding Acadian, so Sai is sure to get better than just a leg of mutton!
****************************
Chapter 28.9: Leaving Miscarcand
Cold air swirled into our faces as I pulled the heavy stone door open. Sai trotted out ahead of me, onto the spiral staircase, as I stared at the specks of pristine white sprinkling the weathered marble. Snow? More drifted down from a sky half black, half star-sprinkled. Well, it is Evening Star, after all, and we’re in the highlands here. Sai’s dark form waited as I cautiously ascended the slick steps.
Once I reached the top, I paused and took several deep breaths. My breaths dissipated silently among the fat snowflakes. The cold air cleansed the last of the stuffy air and zombie stench from my lungs and my nostrils. Beside me, Sai sniffed at the breeze with noisy sighs.
I looked down as my left fingers brushed the tips of his ears. “Let’s go find Blanco,” I murmured to him. He leaped over the twisting roots and darted into the night. When I reached the ground behind him, I noticed that the snow was just beginning to coat the tall grasses that blanketed the exterior ruins.
I shifted the pack more comfortably on my back and struck off along the broken wall that delineated the eastern margin of Miscarcand. Our footfalls were deadened by the growing quilt of white as the snowfall thickened. As he had on our arrival, Sai ranged ahead, putting his busy nose to good use at each and every shrub and rock outcropping we passed.
I noticed he did not move with the same energy as before. He’s tired. ‘Blivion, we’re both tired! A glance at the bit of clear sky fleeing before the oncoming overcast told me that it was very early in the morning hours. We’ve been in that ruin nearly a full day. I think I will spend the day at the camp, if Blanco is amenable. He may want to head back to Skingrad and the stables there immediately.
I smiled at the thought of the white stallion. He hadn’t demonstrated an eagerness to leave when I exited Sancre Tor. Instead, he had waited quietly while I recuperated from my exhausting search for Tiber Septim’s armor.
My thoughts moved to the four Blades I had met in that ancient city. Can’t rightly call them ghosts - they were real enough to hurt me. Yet once their souls were free, they were as courteous to me as Baurus, as Cyrus and Roliand and the others. I felt a frown cross my chilled face at a random thought. I thought about them when that shaman showed up. Why would I think of them and not Florian, who saved me from that nightmare? Would I have thought of Casnar, of Rielus, of Alain and Valdemar, if I had not met them? Would I have found the courage I needed to go on? I didn’t want to think of the alternative. My stride faltered as my eyes searched the shadow of the Jeralls that hung along the northern horizon behind me. If the four of you were with me in there, thank you, thank all of you. And thank Akatosh for sending you to me.
When I turned my gaze back south, I could see the dark form of Sai waiting for me a few paces away. The white tip of his tail rose over his back and waved slowly when I smiled at him. And thank you, Sai the Lucky, for sending this dog to me.
A white form appeared on the knoll ahead of us, shimmering in the flurry of snowflakes. As Blanco approached us at a slow walk, I frowned at the yellow glow beyond him. Didn’t I bank that fire before we left camp? Have bandits reclaimed it already?
Blanco’s calm demeanor steadied my rattled nerves as he stopped before me. As he did at Sancre Tor, the stallion sniffed me over quite thoroughly, though he kept stopping at every other breath to blow hard. I rubbed his nose fondly after the fourth snort. “I know, we stink. But that place was full of zombies! You’d stink too if you went in there with us!”
Blanco tossed his head as if agreeing, then wrapped his neck around my left side to sniff at my pack. Then he swiped the side of his head against my shoulder, nearly knocking me over. Am I glad you’re back, stinky as you are! I could almost hear his voice whispering in my mind, humor tinging its tone.
“Well, let me change out of these stinky clothes then,” I said, pushing him aside and heading toward the fire. Sai and Blanco exchanged sniffs, then the dog floated past me. He stopped just on the edge of the firelight, and I saw his hackles bristle as he dropped his head.
Through the thickening snow, I soon made out the form of a man, shrouded in a fur cloak over leather tunic and leggings. He set a kettle over the fire and glanced up. I recognized the weathered face of Hugh Berennus. Beyond, I could see the white blaze against the dark silhouette that was his horse, Vinnie.
“Welcome back, Julian,” Berennus’s smile was warmer than the fire. “You look worse for wear. I’ve put some klah on the fire, it’ll warm you right up.”
A snarl at my left side drew our attention to Sai. He still regarded the Legion rider suspiciously, though he had not moved from the spot. I tried to recall how the dog handlers of Legio Ten calmed their charges whenever the dogs took exception to fellow Legion soldiers. “Hush, Sai,” I touched his ears. “He’s a friend.”
The dog fell silent, but did not move as I approached the fire. He kept his blue eyes on Berennus while I lowered the pack to a nearby boulder and sheathed my katana. I regarded the rider for a few moments as he busied himself with the pewter cups.
“By any chance Berennus, did you hit Sai when you fought those bandits?”
He glanced up at me, his dark gaze mildly offended. “No, I didn’t. The dog was milling around, and one of the bandits hit him trying to get at me.” His eyes lowered to the dog opposite the campfire. “But I’m not surprised he hates me. After all, I killed his master.”
“Not a very good master,” I remarked, sitting heavily on another boulder next to Berennus. “That dog’s almost as bony as the skeletons we met inside the ruin!”
Berennus sent me a sharp glance. “You went inside that ruin?” He waved vaguely northward before setting a haunch of venison on the spit.
Both Sai’s nose and mine twitched, almost in unison, as the smell of roasting meat wafted up into the drifting flakes. My stomach reminded me that it had been a very long time since both of us had eaten last.
“Remember I mentioned that I’ve been working with some smart people trying to end this Crisis?” I remarked, stretching my legs toward the fire.
“Yes,” Berennus nodded as he picked up the klah pot and swirled its contents thoroughly. “Any progress since then?”
It was my turn to nod. “A fair bit, actually.” I gestured toward the pack. “Apparently there’s something special buried deep in that place that would be of some value in the effort.”
Berennus’s gaze moved from me to the pack. “And you survived? So many adventurers have gone in there, and so few have come back.” He shook his head as he filled the two pewter mugs, handing one off to me. “The few who did told me they found nothing but cursed undead in there.” He shrugged as I sipped at the steaming black fluid. “The last one turned back when he saw a goblin among the surface ruins. Told me he wasn’t about to go up against a whole tribe of them alone.”
“I don’t blame him,” I managed to keep the lingering terror out of my voice. “It wasn’t a pleasant walk on Green Emperor Way.” I met Sai’s gaze and patted my thigh, on the side away from Berennus. Still wary of the Legion rider, the husky mix skirted the edge of the firelight to my side and sat down. He never once took his gaze off of Berennus.
“I’m not sure how to get him to accept you, Berennus,” I reached out slowly and rubbed Sai’s ears gently.
“The best way to befriend a dog is through his stomach,” Berennus remarked casually, pointedly ignoring Sai. “By the way, how did you know his name was Sai?”
“I really don’t know what name he went by,” I answered, moving my fingers down to the thick fur at the nape of Sai’s neck and kneading the loose skin there. Slowly the tension seeped out of his muscles, and his stare relaxed a little, though he continued watching Berennus. “I tried to send him away, but he followed me into that ruin. So I told him he was lucky I didn’t kill him when he scared me like that.”
Berennus turned his gaze to the sky, now completely overcast. “Sai the Lucky, eh? Well, he does have the look of a Skyrim Husky about him, though the color’s not the same.”
I had to agree. The Skyrim Huskies I had met during my posting up north were mostly black, grey and white dogs, quick and agile. Sai’s brown coloring, so suggestive of sweetened xocoatl imported from Elsweyr, certainly did not originate from the snowy wilds of Skyrim. They certainly weren’t as quick to take the offensive against bigger enemies as Sai had been.
“So Sai the Lucky was useful in that place?” Berennus’s question brought me back to the present. I leaned my elbows on my knees and cradled the cooling mug in both hands, turning my eyes to the fire.
“More than I ever imagined he would be,” I drained the last of the klah. “I never fought with the war dogs in Legio Ten, but now I understand why those soldiers would die for their dogs.”
After a moment’s silence, Berennus rose to his feet and bent over the venison. He sliced off a large chunk of it and tossed it in Sai’s direction, then cut smaller portions. As Sai tore into the roast, muttering under his breath, Berennus handed me one of the laden pewter plates. We ate in silence. I wasn’t surprised that I finished before he did.
Amusement flickered through Berennus’s face as he gestured a suggestion for me to help myself to seconds. I didn’t need much more encouragement. By the time I returned to my seat, Sai had placed himself between Berennus and me, watching the Legion rider expectantly this time.
“Looks like you’ve got a new friend, Berennus,” I managed to comment before stuffing my face with roast venison again.
Wow, I must be doing something right! Yes, Miscarcand is one long stretch of injuries, heal, injuries, heal, injuries, heal, injuries, oh damn, out of magic charge, heal -- If that doesn't make Julian a master of restoration by now . . .!@ghastley: It was interesting to see Maigret come out with a brace of battle dogs over on TES Nexus right after you and many others commented that Sai would need some kind of shielding. I checked it out, but didn't like the armor. It's bulky, impractical, and would only slow the dogs down as it would interfere with their freedom of movement. Since dogs rely on their speed and agility (almost as much as cats) to stay intact, the armor is a big no-no. You can load it up with magical effects, and I'm still shaking my head. Poor choices there. No protection over vital areas, obstruction of ears and eyes, restriction of lateral movement. Nope. On the other hand, I loved the concept. So I may tinker with it, check out the scripting to see if it can be used with another actor. We'll see.
@SubRosa: I think Miscarcand really brings home the fact that Julian made the right choice in joining the Mages Guild. She is determined to use magic as she has seen battlemages do, and that means a lot of destruction and restoration skillz. She is still the kind of person to do the dirty work herself, so a summons is something she'll use only for distraction or to level the playing field, not as protection.
@Acadian: Thanks for pointing out the nit. I wanted to emphasize that it is Julian who is experiencing Sai's suffering, but like you said, it might be overkill. So I'll keep it in mind and decide sometime today whether to change it or not. I'm glad you liked the short description of how Sai and Julian dealt with that skelly by the sarcophagus. And Julian uses humor the way Abe Lincoln did during the Civil War - if not for it, she'd be a quivering, teary mess of jelly.
@Grits: Julian didn't realize he was that badly hurt either! It was like reliving that will-o-wisp with Paint all over again for both of us. And yes, Julian has a very limited pool of magicka - it took her a long time to reach the point where she could cast four Convalescence spells in a row (like around level 18). And here my novice Breton character is doing it at level three.
@Destri: Sai is a typical dog, always getting in the thick of things. Not like a cat, smart enough to run and hide somewhere until the dust settles. The fact that such a little gesture of Sai's got to you makes me feel validated about my writing. I've actually had patients do that to me when I've been able to give them some measure of relief. As for continuing as her sidekick, I think that's pretty much over. For the rest of the MQ, anyway. Your wish for a peaceful journey back to CRT may be in vain, but not to worry. I'm overdue for feeding Acadian, so Sai is sure to get better than just a leg of mutton!
****************************
Chapter 28.9: Leaving Miscarcand
Cold air swirled into our faces as I pulled the heavy stone door open. Sai trotted out ahead of me, onto the spiral staircase, as I stared at the specks of pristine white sprinkling the weathered marble. Snow? More drifted down from a sky half black, half star-sprinkled. Well, it is Evening Star, after all, and we’re in the highlands here. Sai’s dark form waited as I cautiously ascended the slick steps.
Once I reached the top, I paused and took several deep breaths. My breaths dissipated silently among the fat snowflakes. The cold air cleansed the last of the stuffy air and zombie stench from my lungs and my nostrils. Beside me, Sai sniffed at the breeze with noisy sighs.
I looked down as my left fingers brushed the tips of his ears. “Let’s go find Blanco,” I murmured to him. He leaped over the twisting roots and darted into the night. When I reached the ground behind him, I noticed that the snow was just beginning to coat the tall grasses that blanketed the exterior ruins.
I shifted the pack more comfortably on my back and struck off along the broken wall that delineated the eastern margin of Miscarcand. Our footfalls were deadened by the growing quilt of white as the snowfall thickened. As he had on our arrival, Sai ranged ahead, putting his busy nose to good use at each and every shrub and rock outcropping we passed.
I noticed he did not move with the same energy as before. He’s tired. ‘Blivion, we’re both tired! A glance at the bit of clear sky fleeing before the oncoming overcast told me that it was very early in the morning hours. We’ve been in that ruin nearly a full day. I think I will spend the day at the camp, if Blanco is amenable. He may want to head back to Skingrad and the stables there immediately.
I smiled at the thought of the white stallion. He hadn’t demonstrated an eagerness to leave when I exited Sancre Tor. Instead, he had waited quietly while I recuperated from my exhausting search for Tiber Septim’s armor.
My thoughts moved to the four Blades I had met in that ancient city. Can’t rightly call them ghosts - they were real enough to hurt me. Yet once their souls were free, they were as courteous to me as Baurus, as Cyrus and Roliand and the others. I felt a frown cross my chilled face at a random thought. I thought about them when that shaman showed up. Why would I think of them and not Florian, who saved me from that nightmare? Would I have thought of Casnar, of Rielus, of Alain and Valdemar, if I had not met them? Would I have found the courage I needed to go on? I didn’t want to think of the alternative. My stride faltered as my eyes searched the shadow of the Jeralls that hung along the northern horizon behind me. If the four of you were with me in there, thank you, thank all of you. And thank Akatosh for sending you to me.
When I turned my gaze back south, I could see the dark form of Sai waiting for me a few paces away. The white tip of his tail rose over his back and waved slowly when I smiled at him. And thank you, Sai the Lucky, for sending this dog to me.
A white form appeared on the knoll ahead of us, shimmering in the flurry of snowflakes. As Blanco approached us at a slow walk, I frowned at the yellow glow beyond him. Didn’t I bank that fire before we left camp? Have bandits reclaimed it already?
Blanco’s calm demeanor steadied my rattled nerves as he stopped before me. As he did at Sancre Tor, the stallion sniffed me over quite thoroughly, though he kept stopping at every other breath to blow hard. I rubbed his nose fondly after the fourth snort. “I know, we stink. But that place was full of zombies! You’d stink too if you went in there with us!”
Blanco tossed his head as if agreeing, then wrapped his neck around my left side to sniff at my pack. Then he swiped the side of his head against my shoulder, nearly knocking me over. Am I glad you’re back, stinky as you are! I could almost hear his voice whispering in my mind, humor tinging its tone.
“Well, let me change out of these stinky clothes then,” I said, pushing him aside and heading toward the fire. Sai and Blanco exchanged sniffs, then the dog floated past me. He stopped just on the edge of the firelight, and I saw his hackles bristle as he dropped his head.
Through the thickening snow, I soon made out the form of a man, shrouded in a fur cloak over leather tunic and leggings. He set a kettle over the fire and glanced up. I recognized the weathered face of Hugh Berennus. Beyond, I could see the white blaze against the dark silhouette that was his horse, Vinnie.
“Welcome back, Julian,” Berennus’s smile was warmer than the fire. “You look worse for wear. I’ve put some klah on the fire, it’ll warm you right up.”
A snarl at my left side drew our attention to Sai. He still regarded the Legion rider suspiciously, though he had not moved from the spot. I tried to recall how the dog handlers of Legio Ten calmed their charges whenever the dogs took exception to fellow Legion soldiers. “Hush, Sai,” I touched his ears. “He’s a friend.”
The dog fell silent, but did not move as I approached the fire. He kept his blue eyes on Berennus while I lowered the pack to a nearby boulder and sheathed my katana. I regarded the rider for a few moments as he busied himself with the pewter cups.
“By any chance Berennus, did you hit Sai when you fought those bandits?”
He glanced up at me, his dark gaze mildly offended. “No, I didn’t. The dog was milling around, and one of the bandits hit him trying to get at me.” His eyes lowered to the dog opposite the campfire. “But I’m not surprised he hates me. After all, I killed his master.”
“Not a very good master,” I remarked, sitting heavily on another boulder next to Berennus. “That dog’s almost as bony as the skeletons we met inside the ruin!”
Berennus sent me a sharp glance. “You went inside that ruin?” He waved vaguely northward before setting a haunch of venison on the spit.
Both Sai’s nose and mine twitched, almost in unison, as the smell of roasting meat wafted up into the drifting flakes. My stomach reminded me that it had been a very long time since both of us had eaten last.
“Remember I mentioned that I’ve been working with some smart people trying to end this Crisis?” I remarked, stretching my legs toward the fire.
“Yes,” Berennus nodded as he picked up the klah pot and swirled its contents thoroughly. “Any progress since then?”
It was my turn to nod. “A fair bit, actually.” I gestured toward the pack. “Apparently there’s something special buried deep in that place that would be of some value in the effort.”
Berennus’s gaze moved from me to the pack. “And you survived? So many adventurers have gone in there, and so few have come back.” He shook his head as he filled the two pewter mugs, handing one off to me. “The few who did told me they found nothing but cursed undead in there.” He shrugged as I sipped at the steaming black fluid. “The last one turned back when he saw a goblin among the surface ruins. Told me he wasn’t about to go up against a whole tribe of them alone.”
“I don’t blame him,” I managed to keep the lingering terror out of my voice. “It wasn’t a pleasant walk on Green Emperor Way.” I met Sai’s gaze and patted my thigh, on the side away from Berennus. Still wary of the Legion rider, the husky mix skirted the edge of the firelight to my side and sat down. He never once took his gaze off of Berennus.
“I’m not sure how to get him to accept you, Berennus,” I reached out slowly and rubbed Sai’s ears gently.
“The best way to befriend a dog is through his stomach,” Berennus remarked casually, pointedly ignoring Sai. “By the way, how did you know his name was Sai?”
“I really don’t know what name he went by,” I answered, moving my fingers down to the thick fur at the nape of Sai’s neck and kneading the loose skin there. Slowly the tension seeped out of his muscles, and his stare relaxed a little, though he continued watching Berennus. “I tried to send him away, but he followed me into that ruin. So I told him he was lucky I didn’t kill him when he scared me like that.”
Berennus turned his gaze to the sky, now completely overcast. “Sai the Lucky, eh? Well, he does have the look of a Skyrim Husky about him, though the color’s not the same.”
I had to agree. The Skyrim Huskies I had met during my posting up north were mostly black, grey and white dogs, quick and agile. Sai’s brown coloring, so suggestive of sweetened xocoatl imported from Elsweyr, certainly did not originate from the snowy wilds of Skyrim. They certainly weren’t as quick to take the offensive against bigger enemies as Sai had been.
“So Sai the Lucky was useful in that place?” Berennus’s question brought me back to the present. I leaned my elbows on my knees and cradled the cooling mug in both hands, turning my eyes to the fire.
“More than I ever imagined he would be,” I drained the last of the klah. “I never fought with the war dogs in Legio Ten, but now I understand why those soldiers would die for their dogs.”
After a moment’s silence, Berennus rose to his feet and bent over the venison. He sliced off a large chunk of it and tossed it in Sai’s direction, then cut smaller portions. As Sai tore into the roast, muttering under his breath, Berennus handed me one of the laden pewter plates. We ate in silence. I wasn’t surprised that I finished before he did.
Amusement flickered through Berennus’s face as he gestured a suggestion for me to help myself to seconds. I didn’t need much more encouragement. By the time I returned to my seat, Sai had placed himself between Berennus and me, watching the Legion rider expectantly this time.
“Looks like you’ve got a new friend, Berennus,” I managed to comment before stuffing my face with roast venison again.
Would I have found the courage I needed to go on?
Once again, you have done an excellent job of making the Fab Four not mere opponents to defeat and move on, but rather real people, who have had a profound impact upon Julian.
I keep seeing the name Berennus, and imagining him throwing his sword upon a pair of scales and declaring "Vae Victus!". Although granted, he does have an extra 'e' at the beginning of his name than the Celt who sacked Rome. He was also much a much more pleasant dinner companion for Julian than the Romans!
Once again, you have done an excellent job of making the Fab Four not mere opponents to defeat and move on, but rather real people, who have had a profound impact upon Julian.
I keep seeing the name Berennus, and imagining him throwing his sword upon a pair of scales and declaring "Vae Victus!".
Although granted, he does have an extra 'e' at the beginning of his name than the Celt who sacked Rome. He was also much a much more pleasant dinner companion for Julian than the Romans!
What a lovely snowfall and winter night you describe!
Great attention to Sai and Blanco, as the friends they are.
I thought is was a wonderful idea to have that Legion rider at Julian’s camp! I love encountering them as we travel. I did not recall/connect his name to being a Legion rider, so I thank you for the perfectly inserted gentle reminder within a paragraph or two of identifying that Julian knew him by name.
The roast venison hit the spot, thanks!
Great attention to Sai and Blanco, as the friends they are.
I thought is was a wonderful idea to have that Legion rider at Julian’s camp! I love encountering them as we travel. I did not recall/connect his name to being a Legion rider, so I thank you for the perfectly inserted gentle reminder within a paragraph or two of identifying that Julian knew him by name.
The roast venison hit the spot, thanks!
“Welcome back, Julian,” Berennus’s smile was warmer than the fire. “You look worse for wear. I’ve put some klah on the fire, it’ll warm you right up.”
I enjoyed the snowy walk back to camp, and it was even better with some pleasant company at the end.
“So Sai the Lucky was useful in that place?” Berennus’s question brought me back to the present. I leaned my elbows on my knees and cradled the cooling mug in both hands, turning my eyes to the fire.
“More than I ever imagined he would be,” I drained the last of the klah. “I never fought with the war dogs in Legio Ten, but now I understand why those soldiers would die for their dogs.”
I love this understated way of saying how bad it was in the ruin, as well as Berennus’ calm response. It’s perfectly fitting that Sai should get the first chunk of roast venison.
I enjoyed the snowy walk back to camp, and it was even better with some pleasant company at the end.
“So Sai the Lucky was useful in that place?” Berennus’s question brought me back to the present. I leaned my elbows on my knees and cradled the cooling mug in both hands, turning my eyes to the fire.
“More than I ever imagined he would be,” I drained the last of the klah. “I never fought with the war dogs in Legio Ten, but now I understand why those soldiers would die for their dogs.”
I love this understated way of saying how bad it was in the ruin, as well as Berennus’ calm response. It’s perfectly fitting that Sai should get the first chunk of roast venison.
The camp is the end point of a Legion Patrol, and it's never made sense to me why the patrolman didn't make use of the camp before turning round (except that the AI's easier that way, and they were just being lazy). Thanks for fixing that.
Sai's acting just the same with Berennus as he did with Julian. Distrust until proven innocent. Not many writers would keep their animal characters that consistent.
Sai's acting just the same with Berennus as he did with Julian. Distrust until proven innocent. Not many writers would keep their animal characters that consistent.
@SubRosa: Actually, the inspiration for Hugh Berennus is Hugh Beringar, the Deputy Sheriff from Brother Cadfael's mysteries. At least three different actors have played him, but this one remains my favorite.
@Acadian: In the very first draft, and one of many scenes I cut before posting, Julian actually met Berennus on her first trip to Kvatch. They got on well enough, to the point that he showed her how to clean Paint's hooves. After that, every time they met on the road, they rode together. So there's that friendship that comes through here.
@Grits: Berennus is probably like most soldiers - a sucker for a good dog.
@ghastley: You're welcome! I always thought that was a great place for a Legion rider to stop and take a break, give his poor horse a rest.
Though Julian is anxious to leave Miscarcand behind, she has to rest sometime! Better a little late than never, right?
************************
Chapter 28.10: A Day of Rest
Berennus returned to his patrol after we shared breakfast. The single cup of the klah he brewed, as strong as it was, kept me awake just long enough to manage minor repairs to my mail and to sharpen Touch. I spent the next several hours asleep, with Blanco standing guard just outside the big tent. Sai curled up in the open doorway, oblivious to the still-falling snow.
I woke to the late afternoon, groggy from nearly twenty-four hours of dungeon crawling. Sai’s brown coat had considerably more white on it, and the temperature was colder. A weak sun cast a faint roseate glow on Blanco’s white coat where he stood slant-hipped beside the banked fire.
My stomach grumbled loudly at being ignored for so long. Sai opened his eyes, then shook the light snow from his fur as he rose to his feet. With a loud yawn, he stretched his forelegs in front of him, then his hind limbs. His tail waved as I stood and engaged in a similar exercise.
With the brown wool cloak wrapped around me, I stepped out into the fresh-fallen snow. Around me the world looked like a bakery shop, with sugary snow sparkling atop shrubs, trees and grasses alike. Blanco turned his dark gaze on me before he shook his mane and pawed briefly at the ground.
It’s just a light dusting, I surveyed the snow cover. Nowhere near as heavy as at Bruma. The road should be fine. A glance behind the tent revealed my guess to be correct. If I pack up and leave now, we should reach Skingrad shortly after dark. I looked down at Sai, standing beside me, his blue gaze scanning the surrounding countryside. Or I can just take another night here. That tent’s not too shabby - definitely better than the one I had in the Legion!
Again I regarded Blanco. He returned my gaze calmly, standing quietly without any sign of impatience. This area is safe for now, and he’s not eager to go. I moved to the tin-lined chest that rested within the dense shade of an azalea shrub. Still plenty of venison. Berennus did say he would leave enough for another day. Somehow I felt pleased that he had kept his word.
“Well, Sai,” I remarked to the dog who had shadowed me around the camp. “Looks like venison again tonight.” His tail waved with a little more vigor as I drew out the roasted haunch. “I’m going to warm it up, but I bet you won’t mind if your share is cold.”
Sai didn’t mind. Blanco wandered off and began grazing around the camp after I gave him another handful of grain. It’s not yet cold enough to put the blanket on him, I mused silently. His coat was thick and plush enough for me to bury my fingers within it. It made him look plump, though he had little but hard muscle beneath the winter coat. I’ll cover him if the wind picks up. The air was silent, adding to the enchantment of the powdered snow. I couldn’t stop thinking about the almond crescent cookies so popular in Skyrim around Saturalia.
I’ll have to see if they make those in Bruma. Orania can tell me. A sudden thought raised the question of the future. Will I be in Bruma for Saturalia? How close are we to finding the Amulet of Kings? Didn’t Martin say there were four items needed? The Great Welkynd stone would make three. Wonder what the fourth one would be?
I stopped at an abrupt realization. I haven’t thought about my future in a long time. It’s always been about getting through the day. Even when Captain Steffan and I spoke about the Mages Guild, I didn’t really think about what would happen once my obligation to Uriel Septim was completed. I didn’t believe there was a life ahead for me.
Suddenly breathless, I sat down as the old Emperor’s careworn face drifted into my vision. I remembered again the kindness in his hazel eyes as he spoke to me, a filthy, despicable addict sick with skooma deprivation.
And look at me now, fully healed, back to my old fighting condition, and dedicated to his son. Am I truly the Son’s Companion as Uriel had called me? I’ve spent more time away from Martin’s side. Baurus is closer to him than I am. I shook my head. But I’m the one gathering the elements Martin needs. I’m the one Martin trusts with the most difficult tasks. And I haven’t let him down. So far.
So what will I do once the Dragonfires are lit? I leaned back. I earned all the recommendations I need to enter the Arcane University. Would I make a good healer, like Captain Steffan had said? My gaze drifted to Sai. Why do I doubt my own skill for it? I’ve healed that dog three times. And I’ve been glad to do it.
I also considered my growing alchemy skill. I’m not at the same level as Sigrid or Orania yet, but I’m better than I used to be. I wonder if there is a future for me. For the first time in years, I felt something strange rise within my core. What is this? Hope? Confidence? Faith? When I still have a dangerous road ahead of me? But we are so much closer to realizing an end to this damned Oblivion Crisis then when I brought Martin to Weynon Priory.
Yes, I can dare to hope for a future. I can dare to look forward to Saturalia for the first time in years. I have a place to call home, and friends - no, family among my Blades brothers and sisters. My gaze returned to Sai as he munched contentedly on the cold venison. He paused in his chewing and his blue eyes flickered at me.
And Captain Steffan. How did this happen? When did he become more than just a fellow Blade, just my commanding officer? I searched my memory. When did I start falling in love with this man? The smell of the venison on the fire reminded me of my empty stomach. I moved to the spit and removed my dinner, returning to my rocky seat. No, don’t think about him. Not now. Not ever. No one can ever know my feeling for him, especially Captain Steffan himself. I forced my mind to go blank as I dug into the meat.
Once I had made certain our bellies were full, Blanco’s of grain and grass, Sai’s and mine with venison, I returned to the tent and sleep.
When I woke next, it was predawn. The eastern sky glowed softly against the black horizon, a premonition of a clear and sunny day ahead. Snow is likely to melt away by noon, I regarded the light dusting on the shrubbery, already glistening with melt. The temperature felt warmer than it had yesterday.
This time, Blanco pawed restlessly at the ground after I gave him his morning grain. He paced around the small camp and paused often to look at the cobblestoned road with an intent gaze. You’re ready to head back, aren’t you? There’s Lotte and Lena at the Grateful Pass Stables, and Rider Remus’s Mira east of Skingrad. And let’s not forget about Jasmine back in Cloud Ruler Temple. I wondered briefly how he knew I had needed the extra day of rest. This morning I felt much more invigorated, and Sai had a bounce in his movement that was missing yesterday.
Packing up the camp took only a few moments. Only the marrow bone remained of the venison, and I wrapped it up in several pieces of parchment and stowed it into the travel pack. Then I stopped and looked at Sai. “Are you coming along with us, or are you going to stay here?” His feet shifted in the classic happy dog dance, bringing a smile to my face.
West, through the trees surrounding the camp, I could see the ruined crown of the mesa that was Kvatch. The pall of smoke no longer hung over the ruined walls, but the scorched earth was still evident in the growing morning light. Waves of gold and red autumn foliage cascaded around its lower slopes and obscured the meadow where the refugee camp still lay. Berennus had mentioned the supply train from Skingrad had arrived a few weeks ago. Apparently Count Hassildor had wasted little time getting aid to the survivors of that first, horrific Oblivion Gate.
Before much longer, we were eastbound along the Gold Road. Blanco moved with a high-stepping stride, his head up and ears pricked forward. Below, Sai wove from one side of the road to the other, white-tipped tail dancing arabesques above his back as he examined every rock and shrub along the road.
@Acadian: In the very first draft, and one of many scenes I cut before posting, Julian actually met Berennus on her first trip to Kvatch. They got on well enough, to the point that he showed her how to clean Paint's hooves. After that, every time they met on the road, they rode together. So there's that friendship that comes through here.
@Grits: Berennus is probably like most soldiers - a sucker for a good dog.
@ghastley: You're welcome! I always thought that was a great place for a Legion rider to stop and take a break, give his poor horse a rest.
Though Julian is anxious to leave Miscarcand behind, she has to rest sometime! Better a little late than never, right?
************************
Chapter 28.10: A Day of Rest
Berennus returned to his patrol after we shared breakfast. The single cup of the klah he brewed, as strong as it was, kept me awake just long enough to manage minor repairs to my mail and to sharpen Touch. I spent the next several hours asleep, with Blanco standing guard just outside the big tent. Sai curled up in the open doorway, oblivious to the still-falling snow.
I woke to the late afternoon, groggy from nearly twenty-four hours of dungeon crawling. Sai’s brown coat had considerably more white on it, and the temperature was colder. A weak sun cast a faint roseate glow on Blanco’s white coat where he stood slant-hipped beside the banked fire.
My stomach grumbled loudly at being ignored for so long. Sai opened his eyes, then shook the light snow from his fur as he rose to his feet. With a loud yawn, he stretched his forelegs in front of him, then his hind limbs. His tail waved as I stood and engaged in a similar exercise.
With the brown wool cloak wrapped around me, I stepped out into the fresh-fallen snow. Around me the world looked like a bakery shop, with sugary snow sparkling atop shrubs, trees and grasses alike. Blanco turned his dark gaze on me before he shook his mane and pawed briefly at the ground.
It’s just a light dusting, I surveyed the snow cover. Nowhere near as heavy as at Bruma. The road should be fine. A glance behind the tent revealed my guess to be correct. If I pack up and leave now, we should reach Skingrad shortly after dark. I looked down at Sai, standing beside me, his blue gaze scanning the surrounding countryside. Or I can just take another night here. That tent’s not too shabby - definitely better than the one I had in the Legion!
Again I regarded Blanco. He returned my gaze calmly, standing quietly without any sign of impatience. This area is safe for now, and he’s not eager to go. I moved to the tin-lined chest that rested within the dense shade of an azalea shrub. Still plenty of venison. Berennus did say he would leave enough for another day. Somehow I felt pleased that he had kept his word.
“Well, Sai,” I remarked to the dog who had shadowed me around the camp. “Looks like venison again tonight.” His tail waved with a little more vigor as I drew out the roasted haunch. “I’m going to warm it up, but I bet you won’t mind if your share is cold.”
Sai didn’t mind. Blanco wandered off and began grazing around the camp after I gave him another handful of grain. It’s not yet cold enough to put the blanket on him, I mused silently. His coat was thick and plush enough for me to bury my fingers within it. It made him look plump, though he had little but hard muscle beneath the winter coat. I’ll cover him if the wind picks up. The air was silent, adding to the enchantment of the powdered snow. I couldn’t stop thinking about the almond crescent cookies so popular in Skyrim around Saturalia.
I’ll have to see if they make those in Bruma. Orania can tell me. A sudden thought raised the question of the future. Will I be in Bruma for Saturalia? How close are we to finding the Amulet of Kings? Didn’t Martin say there were four items needed? The Great Welkynd stone would make three. Wonder what the fourth one would be?
I stopped at an abrupt realization. I haven’t thought about my future in a long time. It’s always been about getting through the day. Even when Captain Steffan and I spoke about the Mages Guild, I didn’t really think about what would happen once my obligation to Uriel Septim was completed. I didn’t believe there was a life ahead for me.
Suddenly breathless, I sat down as the old Emperor’s careworn face drifted into my vision. I remembered again the kindness in his hazel eyes as he spoke to me, a filthy, despicable addict sick with skooma deprivation.
And look at me now, fully healed, back to my old fighting condition, and dedicated to his son. Am I truly the Son’s Companion as Uriel had called me? I’ve spent more time away from Martin’s side. Baurus is closer to him than I am. I shook my head. But I’m the one gathering the elements Martin needs. I’m the one Martin trusts with the most difficult tasks. And I haven’t let him down. So far.
So what will I do once the Dragonfires are lit? I leaned back. I earned all the recommendations I need to enter the Arcane University. Would I make a good healer, like Captain Steffan had said? My gaze drifted to Sai. Why do I doubt my own skill for it? I’ve healed that dog three times. And I’ve been glad to do it.
I also considered my growing alchemy skill. I’m not at the same level as Sigrid or Orania yet, but I’m better than I used to be. I wonder if there is a future for me. For the first time in years, I felt something strange rise within my core. What is this? Hope? Confidence? Faith? When I still have a dangerous road ahead of me? But we are so much closer to realizing an end to this damned Oblivion Crisis then when I brought Martin to Weynon Priory.
Yes, I can dare to hope for a future. I can dare to look forward to Saturalia for the first time in years. I have a place to call home, and friends - no, family among my Blades brothers and sisters. My gaze returned to Sai as he munched contentedly on the cold venison. He paused in his chewing and his blue eyes flickered at me.
And Captain Steffan. How did this happen? When did he become more than just a fellow Blade, just my commanding officer? I searched my memory. When did I start falling in love with this man? The smell of the venison on the fire reminded me of my empty stomach. I moved to the spit and removed my dinner, returning to my rocky seat. No, don’t think about him. Not now. Not ever. No one can ever know my feeling for him, especially Captain Steffan himself. I forced my mind to go blank as I dug into the meat.
Once I had made certain our bellies were full, Blanco’s of grain and grass, Sai’s and mine with venison, I returned to the tent and sleep.
When I woke next, it was predawn. The eastern sky glowed softly against the black horizon, a premonition of a clear and sunny day ahead. Snow is likely to melt away by noon, I regarded the light dusting on the shrubbery, already glistening with melt. The temperature felt warmer than it had yesterday.
This time, Blanco pawed restlessly at the ground after I gave him his morning grain. He paced around the small camp and paused often to look at the cobblestoned road with an intent gaze. You’re ready to head back, aren’t you? There’s Lotte and Lena at the Grateful Pass Stables, and Rider Remus’s Mira east of Skingrad. And let’s not forget about Jasmine back in Cloud Ruler Temple. I wondered briefly how he knew I had needed the extra day of rest. This morning I felt much more invigorated, and Sai had a bounce in his movement that was missing yesterday.
Packing up the camp took only a few moments. Only the marrow bone remained of the venison, and I wrapped it up in several pieces of parchment and stowed it into the travel pack. Then I stopped and looked at Sai. “Are you coming along with us, or are you going to stay here?” His feet shifted in the classic happy dog dance, bringing a smile to my face.
West, through the trees surrounding the camp, I could see the ruined crown of the mesa that was Kvatch. The pall of smoke no longer hung over the ruined walls, but the scorched earth was still evident in the growing morning light. Waves of gold and red autumn foliage cascaded around its lower slopes and obscured the meadow where the refugee camp still lay. Berennus had mentioned the supply train from Skingrad had arrived a few weeks ago. Apparently Count Hassildor had wasted little time getting aid to the survivors of that first, horrific Oblivion Gate.
Before much longer, we were eastbound along the Gold Road. Blanco moved with a high-stepping stride, his head up and ears pricked forward. Below, Sai wove from one side of the road to the other, white-tipped tail dancing arabesques above his back as he examined every rock and shrub along the road.
What a lovely respite for Julian and her crew!
’My stomach grumbled loudly at being ignored for so long.’
This got me excited, then the warm venison that followed made me happy.
’With a loud yawn, he stretched his forelegs in front of him, then his hind limbs. His tail waved as I stood and engaged in a similar exercise.’
Now puleeeze don’t change this!!! When I read it the first time, it conjured an image of Julian waving her tail along with Sai. After reading it again, I was crestfallen to realize that of course you meant that Julian stretched similarly to Sai, while he wagged his tail. What a delight, regardless.
It was wonderful being inside Julian’s head for this episode as her thoughts meandered across her wonderful four legged friends to Uriel, Martin and other two legged friends whose of interwoven destinies danced in her head like Saturalia pastries.
And a future.
No wonder her thoughts turned to Captain Steffan. My advice? Unlike elves, humans live for too short a time to keep such feelings hidden. I know old habits die hard, but sometimes ya just have to step out onto the dance floor.
I quite loved how she tuned both her decision to layover another day, then to leave the day after to Blanco’s advice – which he rendered so clearly.
And it’s on the road again after a well deserved rest for ourDynamic Duo Terrific Trio. 
’My stomach grumbled loudly at being ignored for so long.’
This got me excited, then the warm venison that followed made me happy.
’With a loud yawn, he stretched his forelegs in front of him, then his hind limbs. His tail waved as I stood and engaged in a similar exercise.’
Now puleeeze don’t change this!!! When I read it the first time, it conjured an image of Julian waving her tail along with Sai. After reading it again, I was crestfallen to realize that of course you meant that Julian stretched similarly to Sai, while he wagged his tail. What a delight, regardless.
It was wonderful being inside Julian’s head for this episode as her thoughts meandered across her wonderful four legged friends to Uriel, Martin and other two legged friends whose of interwoven destinies danced in her head like Saturalia pastries.
And a future.
No wonder her thoughts turned to Captain Steffan. My advice? Unlike elves, humans live for too short a time to keep such feelings hidden. I know old habits die hard, but sometimes ya just have to step out onto the dance floor.
I quite loved how she tuned both her decision to layover another day, then to leave the day after to Blanco’s advice – which he rendered so clearly.
And it’s on the road again after a well deserved rest for our
Julian, regarding your thoughts about your Captain -
Just shut up your thoughts - and go and kiss him!
Just shut up your thoughts - and go and kiss him!
Isn't that Sean Pertwee? Cadfael looks interesting. Netflix has a bunch of them, so I think I'll give them a whirl.
Around me the world looked like a bakery shop
This was a wonderful description.
we should reach Skingrad shortly after dark.
Just in time to meet Vigge in bed!
I loved the mention of crescent cookies. I believe the first time I ever heard of them was when I read Wicca: A Guide for the Solitary Practitioner by Scott Cunningham. I never have been much of a cook, but I did make them once.
It was wonderful to find Julian actually stopping to think about the future, and to realize that she has a future. I would expect that she would just be given another assignment after the Oblivion Crisis however. She is a Blade now. Just as she when she was in the Legion, she is government issue. Unless you can just quit the Blades whenever you want? I would expect they would have terms of enlistment, just as any other service. Given her relationship with Martin, she probably could write her own ticket out if she wanted it however.
I can see why Julian does not want to complicate her life with Steffan. With him being her senior officer, it would create all sorts of issues, starting with accusations of her sleeping her way to the top, and just going downhill from there. OTOH, if she does quit the Blades, that problem would be solved. But seeing that he never seems to leave Cloud Ruler, well, that would again put him out of reach. *sigh* At least she is not the only character with romance problems.
Around me the world looked like a bakery shop
This was a wonderful description.
we should reach Skingrad shortly after dark.
Just in time to meet Vigge in bed!
I loved the mention of crescent cookies. I believe the first time I ever heard of them was when I read Wicca: A Guide for the Solitary Practitioner by Scott Cunningham. I never have been much of a cook, but I did make them once.
It was wonderful to find Julian actually stopping to think about the future, and to realize that she has a future. I would expect that she would just be given another assignment after the Oblivion Crisis however. She is a Blade now. Just as she when she was in the Legion, she is government issue. Unless you can just quit the Blades whenever you want? I would expect they would have terms of enlistment, just as any other service. Given her relationship with Martin, she probably could write her own ticket out if she wanted it however.
I can see why Julian does not want to complicate her life with Steffan. With him being her senior officer, it would create all sorts of issues, starting with accusations of her sleeping her way to the top, and just going downhill from there. OTOH, if she does quit the Blades, that problem would be solved. But seeing that he never seems to leave Cloud Ruler, well, that would again put him out of reach. *sigh* At least she is not the only character with romance problems.
What a lovely camp day with just enough snow to make it pretty. I enjoyed Julian’s musings about the future, as they gave a clear picture of her current state of mind. She’s looking forward to the holidays with her Blades family, even while she tries to ignore her feelings for Captain Steffan. She can imagine an end to the Oblivion crisis, which will end her obligation to Uriel Septim. She’s as fit as she once was, with new skills that make her the best qualified out of the Blades to chase through ruins after Martin’s trinkets. She has options, and hope. Plus she has a Witchhorse and a joyful dog.
What could go wrong?
to chase through ruins after Martin’s trinkets. She has options, and hope. Plus she has a Witchhorse and a joyful dog. What could go wrong?
@Acadian: I knew that both you and Julian are long overdue for a meal. I'm glad you found it as fulfilling as she did! I agree with your advice to just step out on the dance floor, but Julian's got too many other things on her mind. Duty and honor first, that's what she's about right now. Stubborn woman. Blanco's ability to size up Julian's condition is part of his mystique as a Witchhorse, as well as his affinity for all things enchanted. Thank you for picking up on her thoughts of a future. It's the first time she really allowed herself to truly believe that she does have a future.
@Foxee: If only! But she is as stubborn as the Jeralls are tall!
@SubRosa: Yes, that's Sean Pertwee. Loved him in the Cadfael mysteries. I think you might enjoy them as well, if not only for Derek Jacobi's excellent acting, but also for the wortcraft and botanical knowledge that plays such a big part in this medieval CSI series. I have twelve episodes on DVD and pull them out every now and then. Sean Pertwee played Beringar in the first four episodes. Using a bakery motif came naturally at this point, since both Julian and I were hungry at the time I wrote this! I wanted to point up her hunger as the filter that colors her perception of a magically changed world that always comes with that first snowfall. As for her romance problems, things will only get stickier!
@Grits: I think you've just jinxed our white-headed Redguard, Witchhorse, and joyful dog with that last comment of yours!
The story so far: Leaving Miscarcand behind, Julian makes her way back to Cloud Ruler Temple. On the way, she finds that a forgotten decision has unexpected consequences.
**************************
Chapter 28.11: Skingrad Bandits
The ride back to Skingrad was mostly uneventful, until we reached the point where the road snaked past Fat Rump Camp and the still-smoldering remains of the Gate. The tortured face of the maimed Redguard bandit I had encountered then resurfaced in my memory as I passed the black talons that marked the site.
Sai halted in front of us, his hackles bristling. At the same time, Blanco’s head shot up, and he turned to face the ridge to our left. From behind a rock, a Dunmer clad in battered leathers appeared, bow drawn and arrow tip aimed at my face.
“Who are you?” Anger colored his tone, while Sai stepped stiffly toward him. “What are you doing with Marcus’s dog?”
“Marcus?” I repeated, searching my memory. “Who’s Marcus?”
“Marcus Cimber!” The Dunmer lowered his arrow slightly. “That’s his dog!”
“Is he?” I glanced down at Sai. “He chose to travel with me. I know of no Marcus Cimber.”
“Marcus is dead, isn’t he?” Grief warred with fury in the ashen face as the bow drooped further.
One of the bandits at Ra’sava? “If he was at Ra’sava camp recently,” I answered slowly, “there’s a good chance you’re right.”
“She killed Marcus!” A Redguard woman burst from the tall shrubs behind the Dunmer, a battle axe raised high over one shoulder. Before I could react, she was past Sai and swinging that crescent blade toward Blanco’s left shoulder.
The stallion’s reflexes were swifter than mine. He sidestepped the blow, then spun on his hocks toward her. I grabbed the pommel of the saddle to keep my seat as Blanco reared up. His striking forefeet sent the woman reeling away, her axe momentarily forgotten on the cobblestones.
“Stand off, Dalia!” The Dunmer’s voice held unmistakable command. “Look at the rider! Look at her!”
I checked Blanco with the reins when he made to follow her, remembering how he had pressed the attack against that mountain lion. He snorted and pawed the cobblestones with fierce emphasis.
The Redguard staggered upright to lock gazes with me, ignoring the blood streaming from her nose. Tears brimmed in her dark eyes as she stared at me.
“You killed Daron, too,” she said, her tone softer this time.
“Daron’s her brother,” the Dunmer’s voice drew my attention back to him. “You gave him mercy a few weeks ago.”
Again the maimed Redguard’s visage emerged behind my vision. Involuntarily I glanced over my shoulder at the remains of the Gate. “I had no reason to deny him his wish,” I answered. Dalia wiped the tears and the blood away from her mouth.
“We saw,” she said quietly as Blanco relaxed beneath me, his ears still tipped warily toward her. She gestured toward the countryside beyond the Dunmer’s shoulder. “Enar and I saw it all. We saw how you cut those monsters down. Saw how you were about to heal him, but he stopped you.” Her voice caught.
“We tried to come to their aid,” the Dunmer added, the arrow now denocked. He slid it home into his hip quiver. “But we were busy with our own problems,” he jerked a thumb over his shoulder. Off in the distance, I could see the now-familiar spikes and thunderclouds that marked another Oblivion Gate.
I felt a frown cross my face. I don’t remember seeing that before. “Is it still a problem for you?”
“Every few days some monsters come out of it,” the Dunmer shrugged. “They’re getting worse, now. Dalia and I are the only ones left.”
I glanced at Dalia, and realized that Blanco still stood over her weapon. I nudged the stallion backwards until I could see the crescent blade in front of him. I can close that Gate, but should I? I need to get this stone back to Martin. I can’t take the risk that this would be the Gate I die in. Not anymore. “Best you move on, then,” I commented as Dalia edged forward to pick up her weapon.
Dalia hesitated, meeting my gaze again. “But where would we go?” I heard old despair in her voice. “We’re nothing, unwelcome in Skingrad. That Captain Dion would as soon chase us out the minute we walk in the city gates.”
“You know how to survive out here,” I glanced from her to the Dunmer. “There’s a place that has need of folks who are willing to work hard for little more than a warm fire, a place out of the snow, and regular meals.”
“Work?” The Dunmer’s eyes turned suspicious. “What kind of work?”
“Clean up,” I replied. “And rebuilding.” I nodded at the bow still in his hand. “If you’re a good hunter, they can use what game you can bring in. You can’t be too squeamish about the dead.”
Both bandits regarded me with growing comprehension. “You mean - Kvatch?” The Dunmer’s eyes flickered over the Wolf I still wore on my chest.
“If you’re willing to give honest life a try,” I nodded. “I’m certain they’ll be willing to give you the chance. You’ll have to prove yourself trustworthy, of course.”
Hope flickered through their eyes, then the Dunmer shook his head. “No, they’ll never trust us. It’ll be just like Skingrad.”
I regarded him thoughtfully. He’s got a point. The two of them are so scruffy looking, and with their weapons, they reek of banditry. But if they want an honest life, who am I to deny them a chance at it? “Do you want to die as bandits?” I asked them. “How much longer do you think you can stand out against that Gate? Believe me, you can’t go far in the wilderness without bumping into another one.”
Blanco tensed as Dalia bent down to her weapon. Slowly she straightened back up, slung the axe at her shoulder, and backed away from the stallion, her eyes averted the entire time. When she stood beside the Dunmer, she met my gaze once more. Sai sat down beside Blanco as the two bandits studied me silently.
“How can we have an honest life?” Dalia’s tone became mildly challenging. “We have no land, and only six drakes between us.” She jerked her head at the Dunmer beside her. “Enar’s almost out of arrows, and our repair hammers are all broken.”
I swung my right leg over Blanco’s neck and slid to the ground. “I’m serious. If you were given the opportunity to start over again and live an honest life, would you take it?”
“Are you offering us an opportunity?” Enar responded suspiciously.
“I think I know how you can start over,” I answered evenly. “But if I’m going to vouch for you, I need to feel confident that you won’t let me down.”
Dalia glanced at Enar, her left hand seeking his right. He regarded me a moment longer. “We have only our word to give as assurance,” he said finally. His eyes flickered to the Redguard woman beside him. “Mine and Dalia’s.”
I dropped Blanco’s rein and made my way up the side of the knoll to stand before them. I made certain to stop just slightly downhill, so that I was eye to eye with Enar. He straightened up under my stare. When I turned my gaze to Dalia, she tightened her jaw and swallowed before giving me a short nod. Neither of them looked away from me.
“What names do you go by,” I glanced from her to him. “Dalia and Enar?”
“Enar Baro,” the Dunmer corrected me. Dalia nodded confirmation.
I turned back to Blanco and dug into his saddlebags until I found the parchment board, quill and inkstone. With the writing gear in my hand, I moved to a nearby rock and sat down. With a little water from my canteen, I ground the hilt of my dagger to make a small puddle of black ink on the surface of the stone.
The two bandits drew near as I began writing on the top sheet of parchment, but kept silent. Sai moved to sit between me and the pair, his blue gaze steady on them.
Matius and Boldon, I wrote. Please accept Enar Baro and Dalia under your supervision. They have need of an opportunity to start a new life, and are willing to work hard for a second chance. I will leave it up to you to decide where best to use them, so long as it keeps them from a life of banditry. They have lost much, and have only each other and their skills.
I signed it and folded the parchment into quarters. And what if they run into Hugh Berennus on the way? They will figure out that he killed this Marcus Cimber. I looked up at them. “Put any thought of vengeance against Marcus’s killer out of your minds.”
“If you didn’t kill him, then a Legion patrol must have,” Baro rejoined softly with a shrug. “As unfortunate as it is, they would have been doing their job.” He exchanged a meaningful glance with Dalia. “Can’t blame ‘em.”
I bent back to the parchment board. Berennus, if you meet Enar Baro and Dalia on the road, please escort them safely to the Kvatch road, only as long as they are not breaking any laws. My thanks, Julian of Anvil.
After folding the second, I wrote the names of the intended recipients on both parchments. As Druja had taught me, I used a tiny flare to dry the inkstone. Then I held the folded notes to Baro. “You may meet a Legion rider on the Gold Road past Ra’sava Camp,” I said as the Dunmer took the notes. He glanced quizzically at me. “His name is Hugh Berennus. Keep your hands away from your weapons and give him this note if you do.” I met Dalia’s eyes. “Like you said, he was doing his job. Don’t threaten him, and don’t even think about avenging Cimber’s death.” I locked gazes with her. “If I hear you pulled your weapons on him, I’ll come after you myself, if you’re still alive.”
“If we are to have a second chance,” Baro drew my attention back to him. “We will forget our bandit’s ways. The Legion will not harm us as long as we are honest, no?”
“Enar, have you forgotten -“ Dalia began to protest, but stopped at a sharp gesture from him. I glanced at her again.
“I know not every Legion soldier acts ethically,” I addressed her, but I knew Enar was listening as intently as the Redguard woman. “Yet Berennus is as honorable as they come. If you present yourselves as poor travelers on your way to Kvatch to offer what help you can, he’ll see that you make it safely there, Oblivion Gates or no.”
Dalia nodded her understanding as Baro examined the notes. “And this Matius and Boldon?”
“When you get to the refugee camp at the base of the mesa,” I answered his unspoken question, “ask for Savlian Matius or Boldon. They’re in charge. Give either of them that note. I’m certain they’ll find something for you to do.” Now I looked from Baro to Dalia. “Be warned, though. They’re still clearing out and burning bodies.”
“We’ve been doing that too,” Dalia squared her shoulders. “We won’t quail at more.”
**********************
A/N: I've always been bothered by the suicidal tendencies of the bandits one encounters on the road and in the wilderness. Why do they hate everyone so much? I figure most of them turn to banditry not by choice, but by unfortunate events in their lives. I keep promising myself that one of these days I will write a story that explores life from a bandit's POV. That's why I was delighted to see Grits treat these unfortunates with such compassion and dignity in Jerric's Story, and like her, I have always thought that Kvatch would be a fantastic opportunity for such folks. While it may seem like I'm borrowing a page from Grits's book, I propose that this post is merely proof that great minds really do think alike . . .
@Foxee: If only!
But she is as stubborn as the Jeralls are tall!@SubRosa: Yes, that's Sean Pertwee. Loved him in the Cadfael mysteries. I think you might enjoy them as well, if not only for Derek Jacobi's excellent acting, but also for the wortcraft and botanical knowledge that plays such a big part in this medieval CSI series. I have twelve episodes on DVD and pull them out every now and then. Sean Pertwee played Beringar in the first four episodes. Using a bakery motif came naturally at this point, since both Julian and I were hungry at the time I wrote this! I wanted to point up her hunger as the filter that colors her perception of a magically changed world that always comes with that first snowfall. As for her romance problems, things will only get stickier!
@Grits: I think you've just jinxed our white-headed Redguard, Witchhorse, and joyful dog with that last comment of yours!
The story so far: Leaving Miscarcand behind, Julian makes her way back to Cloud Ruler Temple. On the way, she finds that a forgotten decision has unexpected consequences.
**************************
Chapter 28.11: Skingrad Bandits
The ride back to Skingrad was mostly uneventful, until we reached the point where the road snaked past Fat Rump Camp and the still-smoldering remains of the Gate. The tortured face of the maimed Redguard bandit I had encountered then resurfaced in my memory as I passed the black talons that marked the site.
Sai halted in front of us, his hackles bristling. At the same time, Blanco’s head shot up, and he turned to face the ridge to our left. From behind a rock, a Dunmer clad in battered leathers appeared, bow drawn and arrow tip aimed at my face.
“Who are you?” Anger colored his tone, while Sai stepped stiffly toward him. “What are you doing with Marcus’s dog?”
“Marcus?” I repeated, searching my memory. “Who’s Marcus?”
“Marcus Cimber!” The Dunmer lowered his arrow slightly. “That’s his dog!”
“Is he?” I glanced down at Sai. “He chose to travel with me. I know of no Marcus Cimber.”
“Marcus is dead, isn’t he?” Grief warred with fury in the ashen face as the bow drooped further.
One of the bandits at Ra’sava? “If he was at Ra’sava camp recently,” I answered slowly, “there’s a good chance you’re right.”
“She killed Marcus!” A Redguard woman burst from the tall shrubs behind the Dunmer, a battle axe raised high over one shoulder. Before I could react, she was past Sai and swinging that crescent blade toward Blanco’s left shoulder.
The stallion’s reflexes were swifter than mine. He sidestepped the blow, then spun on his hocks toward her. I grabbed the pommel of the saddle to keep my seat as Blanco reared up. His striking forefeet sent the woman reeling away, her axe momentarily forgotten on the cobblestones.
“Stand off, Dalia!” The Dunmer’s voice held unmistakable command. “Look at the rider! Look at her!”
I checked Blanco with the reins when he made to follow her, remembering how he had pressed the attack against that mountain lion. He snorted and pawed the cobblestones with fierce emphasis.
The Redguard staggered upright to lock gazes with me, ignoring the blood streaming from her nose. Tears brimmed in her dark eyes as she stared at me.
“You killed Daron, too,” she said, her tone softer this time.
“Daron’s her brother,” the Dunmer’s voice drew my attention back to him. “You gave him mercy a few weeks ago.”
Again the maimed Redguard’s visage emerged behind my vision. Involuntarily I glanced over my shoulder at the remains of the Gate. “I had no reason to deny him his wish,” I answered. Dalia wiped the tears and the blood away from her mouth.
“We saw,” she said quietly as Blanco relaxed beneath me, his ears still tipped warily toward her. She gestured toward the countryside beyond the Dunmer’s shoulder. “Enar and I saw it all. We saw how you cut those monsters down. Saw how you were about to heal him, but he stopped you.” Her voice caught.
“We tried to come to their aid,” the Dunmer added, the arrow now denocked. He slid it home into his hip quiver. “But we were busy with our own problems,” he jerked a thumb over his shoulder. Off in the distance, I could see the now-familiar spikes and thunderclouds that marked another Oblivion Gate.
I felt a frown cross my face. I don’t remember seeing that before. “Is it still a problem for you?”
“Every few days some monsters come out of it,” the Dunmer shrugged. “They’re getting worse, now. Dalia and I are the only ones left.”
I glanced at Dalia, and realized that Blanco still stood over her weapon. I nudged the stallion backwards until I could see the crescent blade in front of him. I can close that Gate, but should I? I need to get this stone back to Martin. I can’t take the risk that this would be the Gate I die in. Not anymore. “Best you move on, then,” I commented as Dalia edged forward to pick up her weapon.
Dalia hesitated, meeting my gaze again. “But where would we go?” I heard old despair in her voice. “We’re nothing, unwelcome in Skingrad. That Captain Dion would as soon chase us out the minute we walk in the city gates.”
“You know how to survive out here,” I glanced from her to the Dunmer. “There’s a place that has need of folks who are willing to work hard for little more than a warm fire, a place out of the snow, and regular meals.”
“Work?” The Dunmer’s eyes turned suspicious. “What kind of work?”
“Clean up,” I replied. “And rebuilding.” I nodded at the bow still in his hand. “If you’re a good hunter, they can use what game you can bring in. You can’t be too squeamish about the dead.”
Both bandits regarded me with growing comprehension. “You mean - Kvatch?” The Dunmer’s eyes flickered over the Wolf I still wore on my chest.
“If you’re willing to give honest life a try,” I nodded. “I’m certain they’ll be willing to give you the chance. You’ll have to prove yourself trustworthy, of course.”
Hope flickered through their eyes, then the Dunmer shook his head. “No, they’ll never trust us. It’ll be just like Skingrad.”
I regarded him thoughtfully. He’s got a point. The two of them are so scruffy looking, and with their weapons, they reek of banditry. But if they want an honest life, who am I to deny them a chance at it? “Do you want to die as bandits?” I asked them. “How much longer do you think you can stand out against that Gate? Believe me, you can’t go far in the wilderness without bumping into another one.”
Blanco tensed as Dalia bent down to her weapon. Slowly she straightened back up, slung the axe at her shoulder, and backed away from the stallion, her eyes averted the entire time. When she stood beside the Dunmer, she met my gaze once more. Sai sat down beside Blanco as the two bandits studied me silently.
“How can we have an honest life?” Dalia’s tone became mildly challenging. “We have no land, and only six drakes between us.” She jerked her head at the Dunmer beside her. “Enar’s almost out of arrows, and our repair hammers are all broken.”
I swung my right leg over Blanco’s neck and slid to the ground. “I’m serious. If you were given the opportunity to start over again and live an honest life, would you take it?”
“Are you offering us an opportunity?” Enar responded suspiciously.
“I think I know how you can start over,” I answered evenly. “But if I’m going to vouch for you, I need to feel confident that you won’t let me down.”
Dalia glanced at Enar, her left hand seeking his right. He regarded me a moment longer. “We have only our word to give as assurance,” he said finally. His eyes flickered to the Redguard woman beside him. “Mine and Dalia’s.”
I dropped Blanco’s rein and made my way up the side of the knoll to stand before them. I made certain to stop just slightly downhill, so that I was eye to eye with Enar. He straightened up under my stare. When I turned my gaze to Dalia, she tightened her jaw and swallowed before giving me a short nod. Neither of them looked away from me.
“What names do you go by,” I glanced from her to him. “Dalia and Enar?”
“Enar Baro,” the Dunmer corrected me. Dalia nodded confirmation.
I turned back to Blanco and dug into his saddlebags until I found the parchment board, quill and inkstone. With the writing gear in my hand, I moved to a nearby rock and sat down. With a little water from my canteen, I ground the hilt of my dagger to make a small puddle of black ink on the surface of the stone.
The two bandits drew near as I began writing on the top sheet of parchment, but kept silent. Sai moved to sit between me and the pair, his blue gaze steady on them.
Matius and Boldon, I wrote. Please accept Enar Baro and Dalia under your supervision. They have need of an opportunity to start a new life, and are willing to work hard for a second chance. I will leave it up to you to decide where best to use them, so long as it keeps them from a life of banditry. They have lost much, and have only each other and their skills.
I signed it and folded the parchment into quarters. And what if they run into Hugh Berennus on the way? They will figure out that he killed this Marcus Cimber. I looked up at them. “Put any thought of vengeance against Marcus’s killer out of your minds.”
“If you didn’t kill him, then a Legion patrol must have,” Baro rejoined softly with a shrug. “As unfortunate as it is, they would have been doing their job.” He exchanged a meaningful glance with Dalia. “Can’t blame ‘em.”
I bent back to the parchment board. Berennus, if you meet Enar Baro and Dalia on the road, please escort them safely to the Kvatch road, only as long as they are not breaking any laws. My thanks, Julian of Anvil.
After folding the second, I wrote the names of the intended recipients on both parchments. As Druja had taught me, I used a tiny flare to dry the inkstone. Then I held the folded notes to Baro. “You may meet a Legion rider on the Gold Road past Ra’sava Camp,” I said as the Dunmer took the notes. He glanced quizzically at me. “His name is Hugh Berennus. Keep your hands away from your weapons and give him this note if you do.” I met Dalia’s eyes. “Like you said, he was doing his job. Don’t threaten him, and don’t even think about avenging Cimber’s death.” I locked gazes with her. “If I hear you pulled your weapons on him, I’ll come after you myself, if you’re still alive.”
“If we are to have a second chance,” Baro drew my attention back to him. “We will forget our bandit’s ways. The Legion will not harm us as long as we are honest, no?”
“Enar, have you forgotten -“ Dalia began to protest, but stopped at a sharp gesture from him. I glanced at her again.
“I know not every Legion soldier acts ethically,” I addressed her, but I knew Enar was listening as intently as the Redguard woman. “Yet Berennus is as honorable as they come. If you present yourselves as poor travelers on your way to Kvatch to offer what help you can, he’ll see that you make it safely there, Oblivion Gates or no.”
Dalia nodded her understanding as Baro examined the notes. “And this Matius and Boldon?”
“When you get to the refugee camp at the base of the mesa,” I answered his unspoken question, “ask for Savlian Matius or Boldon. They’re in charge. Give either of them that note. I’m certain they’ll find something for you to do.” Now I looked from Baro to Dalia. “Be warned, though. They’re still clearing out and burning bodies.”
“We’ve been doing that too,” Dalia squared her shoulders. “We won’t quail at more.”
**********************
A/N: I've always been bothered by the suicidal tendencies of the bandits one encounters on the road and in the wilderness. Why do they hate everyone so much? I figure most of them turn to banditry not by choice, but by unfortunate events in their lives. I keep promising myself that one of these days I will write a story that explores life from a bandit's POV. That's why I was delighted to see Grits treat these unfortunates with such compassion and dignity in Jerric's Story, and like her, I have always thought that Kvatch would be a fantastic opportunity for such folks. While it may seem like I'm borrowing a page from Grits's book, I propose that this post is merely proof that great minds really do think alike . . .
QUOTE
A/N: I've always been bothered by the suicidal tendencies of the bandits one encounters on the road and in the wilderness. Why do they hate everyone so much? I figure most of them turn to banditry not by choice, but by unfortunate events in their lives. I keep promising myself that one of these days I will write a story that explores life from a bandit's POV. That's why I was delighted to see Grits treat these unfortunates with such compassion and dignity in Jerric's Story, and like her, I have always thought that Kvatch would be a fantastic opportunity for such folks. While it may seem like I'm borrowing a page from Grits's book, I propose that this post is merely proof that great minds really do think alike . . .
Do I ever hear you! I've been annoyed by the same thing in Morrowind... especially when it comes to the smugglers. At least bandits are meant to attack people, but the "oops, wrong cave? you stumbled into our hide-out now DIE" tendencies of people who in some cases seem to only be smuggling food and crockery with no drugs nor slaves in sight never cease to confuse me. And as you rightly point out even for bandits it's pretty weird behaviour ("hey, gang, let's attack the fully armed and armoured Hero of Kvatch who's closing Oblivion Gates and fighting Daedra all over, that's sure to go swimmingly!" "what, asking them to hand over their money? Being stealthy? who cares about that, ATTAAAAACK") and totally ignores possible backstories and motivations...
Suffice it to say, I don't think you're stealing at all, I think this is a point where a lot of writers probably go "wait, hang on a minute, what's the story behind this?" And your answer to that question is really a good one! I loved all of this scene, from the connection to another bandit band (to the point where they recognise a member's dog!) and wanted revenge, to their mistrust of Julian and cynicism clashing with their desire for a better life... Enar and Dalia really came alive here. I also loved Julian's wanting to close the Oblivion Gate but realising that she has a more important duty and can't afford to waste time or get herself killed when Martin's counting on her.
...although I admit I forgot who Daron was. >>
I can close that Gate, but should I? I need to get this stone back to Martin. I can’t take the risk that this would be the Gate I die in. Not anymore.
Julian shows another aspect that makes her the best choice for Martin’s needs. I think that a lot of people who would be driven to enter a Gate would not be able to pass one by when that is what’s required. That Gate also shows how the crisis is escalating. Also now we know that daedra are venturing out occasionally, but not flooding the countryside.
Writing about the bandits, a person has to decide if they’re all the game’s homicidal maniacs, or if there’s something else going on. We share an idea about what the something else might be, along with probably lots of other folks. I like your great minds proposal because it elevates my mind to greatness.
I’m delighted to see Baro and Dalia get a second chance at Kvatch. As Julian put it:
“There’s a place that has need of folks who are willing to work hard for little more than a warm fire, a place out of the snow, and regular meals.”
I think that bandits who were just trying to survive would take that chance. Those that steal because it‘s easier or more profitable than work, wouldn’t. We know enough about Julian to trust her judgment of Baro and Dalia.
The ride back to Skingrad was mostly uneventful, until we reached the point where the road snaked past Fat Rump Camp and the still-smoldering remains of the Gate.
I like your name for that camp better than the game’s.
Julian shows another aspect that makes her the best choice for Martin’s needs. I think that a lot of people who would be driven to enter a Gate would not be able to pass one by when that is what’s required. That Gate also shows how the crisis is escalating. Also now we know that daedra are venturing out occasionally, but not flooding the countryside.
Writing about the bandits, a person has to decide if they’re all the game’s homicidal maniacs, or if there’s something else going on. We share an idea about what the something else might be, along with probably lots of other folks. I like your great minds proposal because it elevates my mind to greatness.
I’m delighted to see Baro and Dalia get a second chance at Kvatch. As Julian put it:
“There’s a place that has need of folks who are willing to work hard for little more than a warm fire, a place out of the snow, and regular meals.”
I think that bandits who were just trying to survive would take that chance. Those that steal because it‘s easier or more profitable than work, wouldn’t. We know enough about Julian to trust her judgment of Baro and Dalia.
The ride back to Skingrad was mostly uneventful, until we reached the point where the road snaked past Fat Rump Camp and the still-smoldering remains of the Gate.
I like your name for that camp better than the game’s.
Julian's romance is going to get stickier? Who pulled out the duct tape!
Yay for Blanco and the mezair! That is something that old Paint, as much I love him, could never have done.
I really enjoyed Julian talking with the bandits rather than having the obligatory battle and killing both. You did wonderful job of presenting them as real people, rather than just nameless opponents as they are in the game. Their recognition of Sai, Dalia being the brother of the Redguard bandit from before, and even the second gate, it all adds up very convincingly.
Julian sending them to Kvatch was simply brilliant. Not only does she remove two bandits from the road, but she also helps the city rebuild. Certainly much better than simply killing both!
nits:
until we reached the point where the road snaked past Fat Rump Camp
In the game it is Fat Ramp Camp. But I don't think you should change it. Rump sounds much better, and makes more sense.
Yay for Blanco and the mezair! That is something that old Paint, as much I love him, could never have done.
I really enjoyed Julian talking with the bandits rather than having the obligatory battle and killing both. You did wonderful job of presenting them as real people, rather than just nameless opponents as they are in the game. Their recognition of Sai, Dalia being the brother of the Redguard bandit from before, and even the second gate, it all adds up very convincingly.
Julian sending them to Kvatch was simply brilliant. Not only does she remove two bandits from the road, but she also helps the city rebuild. Certainly much better than simply killing both!
nits:
until we reached the point where the road snaked past Fat Rump Camp
In the game it is Fat Ramp Camp. But I don't think you should change it. Rump sounds much better, and makes more sense.
I loved it! You did a wonderful job at humanizing the bandits and it was a fascinating read. With a frail character such as Buffy, she so often has to make hard choices between shooting first preemptively from the shadows, or declaring yourself and likely being killed. The only time Buffy’s been involved in ‘declaring’ herself with bandits was with Alawen, and that got them promptly attacked. So she is very frightened to risk it. Therefore it was neat indeed to see that if you have the steel to declare yourself to a bandit what can sometimes happen in our stories.
I really liked Julian's inkstone - what a great idea!
You did a fabulous job in sharing the stage among the two bandits, Sai, Blanco and Julian, with each contributing importantly to this delightful episode!
You did a wonderful job at humanizing the bandits and it was a fascinating read. With a frail character such as Buffy, she so often has to make hard choices between shooting first preemptively from the shadows, or declaring yourself and likely being killed. The only time Buffy’s been involved in ‘declaring’ herself with bandits was with Alawen, and that got them promptly attacked. So she is very frightened to risk it. Therefore it was neat indeed to see that if you have the steel to declare yourself to a bandit what can sometimes happen in our stories. I really liked Julian's inkstone - what a great idea!
You did a fabulous job in sharing the stage among the two bandits, Sai, Blanco and Julian, with each contributing importantly to this delightful episode!
First of all I love the new avatar! It suits you better than the snake or the cat. Now, three chapters to comment on:
28.9
I think Sai’s attitude toward Berennus was perfectly sensible. Sai is a working dog, after all. Bad masters are still masters in a dog’s eye, and it was his job to defend the camp. I don’t blame him for being wary when confronted by the scent that killed the camp’s previous tenants. Especially since he has found a much better human tomanipulate protect in Julian.
28.10
I have seen Julian amused, I have seen her entertained. I have even seen her laugh and smile throughout this odyssey of hers. But this is the first time that I have seen her allow happiness to penetrate her austere demeanor. I love that she remains true to herself and tries to shunt those feelings aside, just as I love that she can no longer pretend she doesn’t have them. I can see that Captain Steffan would have an uphill battle on his hands. But, as my old pal Weebum-Na once said about a certain orc of our acquaintance,
‘My sniffer says that she might be worth it.’
Now THIS is how to end a segment! Wow!
28.11
Wait . . . bandits with a bit of common sense? I thought this was an Elder Scrolls story! Why didn’t Dalia simply try to punch Blanco after she lost her weapon? You know, like Mongo in Blazing Saddles! Julian is set to add ‘bandit redeemer’ to her list of accomplishments. I can just see Hedy Lamarr (“That’s Hedley!”) standing in the ruins of Kvatch saying:
CLICKY
and
CLICKY
This is what sleep deprivation does to me!
28.9
I think Sai’s attitude toward Berennus was perfectly sensible. Sai is a working dog, after all. Bad masters are still masters in a dog’s eye, and it was his job to defend the camp. I don’t blame him for being wary when confronted by the scent that killed the camp’s previous tenants. Especially since he has found a much better human to
28.10
I have seen Julian amused, I have seen her entertained. I have even seen her laugh and smile throughout this odyssey of hers. But this is the first time that I have seen her allow happiness to penetrate her austere demeanor. I love that she remains true to herself and tries to shunt those feelings aside, just as I love that she can no longer pretend she doesn’t have them. I can see that Captain Steffan would have an uphill battle on his hands. But, as my old pal Weebum-Na once said about a certain orc of our acquaintance,
‘My sniffer says that she might be worth it.’
QUOTE
Below, Sai wove from one side of the road to the other, White-tipped tail dancing arabesques above his back as he examined every rock and shrub along the way.
Now THIS is how to end a segment! Wow!
28.11
Wait . . . bandits with a bit of common sense? I thought this was an Elder Scrolls story! Why didn’t Dalia simply try to punch Blanco after she lost her weapon? You know, like Mongo in Blazing Saddles! Julian is set to add ‘bandit redeemer’ to her list of accomplishments. I can just see Hedy Lamarr (“That’s Hedley!”) standing in the ruins of Kvatch saying:
CLICKY
and
CLICKY
This is what sleep deprivation does to me!
Sorry about the delay. RL is busy. Very busy.
A good set of parts. Her spending an extra night at the camp worked well and adds realism to her, as well as showing just how drained Miscarcand left her.
I loved this line. It really brought the scene home and captured some of her thoughts (which given how hungry she was were probably bakery based).
The part with the bandits was another welcome addition. Making them characters who're stuck, much as she was, rather than nameless doers of evil worked. They they'd also been fighting daedra was a nice touch too, it helps show more bredth to the crisis. Having them recognise Sai was a good touch too.
I know what that fifth artifact is, and I don't think she's going to like it.
A good set of parts. Her spending an extra night at the camp worked well and adds realism to her, as well as showing just how drained Miscarcand left her.
QUOTE
Around me the world looked like a bakery shop
I loved this line. It really brought the scene home and captured some of her thoughts (which given how hungry she was were probably bakery based).
The part with the bandits was another welcome addition. Making them characters who're stuck, much as she was, rather than nameless doers of evil worked. They they'd also been fighting daedra was a nice touch too, it helps show more bredth to the crisis. Having them recognise Sai was a good touch too.
I know what that fifth artifact is, and I don't think she's going to like it.
My sincerest apologies for getting so far behind. RL and all that, helping Trey keep up with BOTM has taken what time I have allowed. Trying to find a job sucks!
I love Julian, and I could spend days picking out lines that stood out but I would say pretty much the same thing about all of them....Great read, very touching, wonderful description....etc. I enjoy tremendously every moment I spend reading Julian's story.
I love Julian, and I could spend days picking out lines that stood out but I would say pretty much the same thing about all of them....Great read, very touching, wonderful description....etc. I enjoy tremendously every moment I spend reading Julian's story.
Having gone through the entirety of Miscarcand with Julian and Sai, I am glad of the respite at the end. Overall, this entire chapter shows off your wonderful skills of description- environmental, atmospheric, internal, and healing.
Here we see the blossoming of ANOTHER beautiful friendship.
Throughout, you describe the battles between goblins and undead wonderfully, as well as Julian’s wise decision to stay out of them. And, alongside that, we see her abilities as a scout.
And yes- going into battle with dogs has its own… unique aspects.
I grew up with collies, and still recall one of them getting stuck on a rock ledge and jumping down into my sister’s arms.
Showing Julian’s pragmatism and caution.
The climactic battle with the goblin shaman forces Julian to finally face her greatest fear. And I would have to quote the entire section to highlight the parts that “sing.” That said, I will note the following:
You must find whatever it is that allows you to go on.
Of the many things you do remarkably well, your descriptions of TES magic and its effects are right at the top.
Paint me green with jealousy at those passages.
It may be premature, but I also think a great deal of Julian’s trauma from her time as a captive also drained away here.
The moment when Julian recalls the spirits (no, they were much more than ‘ghosts’) of the 4 is simply brilliant.
Love Julian’s thoughts about Steffan. Apparently “denial” is also a river in Cyrodiil….
Giving the bandits lives, a history, and reasons is another wonderful bit of world-building AND characterization.
And it is a satisfying way of letting us know there is so much more to the Oblivion Crisis then what is done by the “great people.”
Typos:
28.4- 4th paragraph. There were movement in the darkness below,
I believe you want “was.”
28.7, Paragraph 15- There were no sign of life other than Sai’s flickering shape and myself.
“signs”
QUOTE
Goblins. Why does it have to be goblins? I leaned back against the wall with deep breaths. The dog licked the back of my right hand, his white-tipped tail flickering in the blue light from the crystals high above us. I met his gaze and considered his recent actions. He attacked that goblin as if nothing else was worse than that unfortunate creature. And he broke its neck.
Here we see the blossoming of ANOTHER beautiful friendship.
Throughout, you describe the battles between goblins and undead wonderfully, as well as Julian’s wise decision to stay out of them. And, alongside that, we see her abilities as a scout.
QUOTE
Sai circled around and dove for the other leg. This time the entire lower leg separated at the knee and Sai approached me carrying the severed limb like a stick I had thrown for him to retrieve.
And yes- going into battle with dogs has its own… unique aspects.
QUOTE
A whine brought my gaze back up to the ledge. Sai fidgeted anxiously, his front feet testing the rim.
I grew up with collies, and still recall one of them getting stuck on a rock ledge and jumping down into my sister’s arms.
QUOTE
...the stone did not shatter. I knelt down and picked it up. As long as my hand, and barely wider, it thrummed softly. After a moment, I slid it into my back pack. I looked at the others, but left them alone. One's enough for now. Until I find out what it's good for, other than light that is.
Showing Julian’s pragmatism and caution.
The climactic battle with the goblin shaman forces Julian to finally face her greatest fear. And I would have to quote the entire section to highlight the parts that “sing.” That said, I will note the following:
QUOTE
No, I have only two choices. Do this alone, or go back to Martin and let him down. I forced myself to take deep breaths. If you go back without the Great Welkynd stone, are you worthy of being Casnar’s Blade Sister? Valdemar? Alain and Rielus?
You must find whatever it is that allows you to go on.
QUOTE
Beneath my palm, I could sense his heartbeat, sputtering erratically. That’s what the shock enchantment does to you, boy. It prevents your magicka from flowing smoothly.
Of the many things you do remarkably well, your descriptions of TES magic and its effects are right at the top.
QUOTE
Darkness fell like silent thunder as I closed the flap.
Silence crouched over us in the dimness, lit only by the glowing crystals set into the faraway walls.
Silence crouched over us in the dimness, lit only by the glowing crystals set into the faraway walls.
Paint me green with jealousy at those passages.
QUOTE
Weakness overwhelmed me and I fell back beside Sai. He laid his head on his forepaws. His sigh echoed mine. Akatosh! That was close! Those shock bolts from that staff were all too familiar to me. If my hair hadn’t already gone white, it would be now! I could still feel the last vestiges of that enchantment trailing silver pain along my nerves.
It may be premature, but I also think a great deal of Julian’s trauma from her time as a captive also drained away here.
The moment when Julian recalls the spirits (no, they were much more than ‘ghosts’) of the 4 is simply brilliant.
Love Julian’s thoughts about Steffan. Apparently “denial” is also a river in Cyrodiil….
Giving the bandits lives, a history, and reasons is another wonderful bit of world-building AND characterization.
And it is a satisfying way of letting us know there is so much more to the Oblivion Crisis then what is done by the “great people.”
Typos:
28.4- 4th paragraph. There were movement in the darkness below,
I believe you want “was.”
28.7, Paragraph 15- There were no sign of life other than Sai’s flickering shape and myself.
“signs”
Has it really been almost TWO months since my last post?? Yikes!
I'm working steadily on Chapter 29, and hope to have it ready for posting before the end of THIS month.
Then it's Nanowrimo time, so I don't know if I will get Chapters 30, 31 and 32 written until after the end of November. We'll see.
@Kazaera: Daron was the Redguard that wouldn't let Julian heal him when she was on her way back to Skingrad after Anvil. She came upon that little Gate near Fat Rump Camp (I know, it's Fat Ramp, but Rump makes more sense to me), and found him mutilated by daedra. He wouldn't let her heal him, and instead asked for a quick ending. Thanks for your kind words about Enar and Dalia - they really came alive as I was writing the scene. I've done enough writing to know that I'd be better off letting them tell the story.
@Grits: You sure it's your mind that got elevated? The stuff you've been writing lately has been genius!
@SubRosa: Thanks for the terrific words! I rather thought you might enjoy Blanco's help in this episode. As for the bandits recognizing Sai, I wanted to place him more firmly in the TES world. And a dog like Sai is certainly unforgettable!
@Acadian: The inkstone actually is a real item noted in Chinese and Korean history. It's a block of hardened, solidified ink (baked, I think) that they grind with a small stone, then use a wet brush to liquefy the ground powder. I think it's a great way to transport ink without getting it all over your bag, your clothes, and your whitey-whites (as vials tend to leak, right?).
@Destri: Ah, my comrade-in-arms! I'm glad you caught up, only now it's my turn to catch up! To tell you the truth, I'm not sure if Sai is manipulating Julian or not. Blanco certainly is! Poor woman! As for Captain Steffan, just how uphill it's going to be will become apparent in a couple more chapters. Ah yes, we are approaching the point where she declares her feelings for him in a very emphatic manner. And no, I doubt it is quite in the way you're thinking . . .
I had forgotten about Mongo! Thanks for the reminder!
@Olen: I think you're right, Julian's not going to like what Martin has in store for her. Of course, she won't like what she finds in Bruma, either, when she stops by on her way up the mountain.
@Athynae: Thanks for the kind words! It's folks like you that keep me writing on this story - both in your replies to my chapters, but also in the stories you are yourselves writing. Things have become quite inspiring here lately!
@treydog: I'm glad you're caught up, too. And I'm delighted that you enjoyed it so much. Denial is a river in Cyrodiil?? Where?? I'd love to take Julian there and slap her upside the head! Thanks for the input and the nits. I will fix them when I open up the story on my Mac partition (currently I'm in my W7 mode, having just completed my schoolwork for this week). I like to fix them in the original file as I update the forum posts. Hopefully I've caught them all by now.
I don't have anything more to post just yet. I have four posts of Chapter 29 written up, and I think it's good for another one or two more segments. I want to take the time to review them, tweak 'em if necessary before I start posting again.
This session I am enrolled in only one class instead of two. I'm hoping that it helps with the writing, as I've fallen way behind. And I have Nanowrimo coming up as well, and plan to participate again this year. Though I have yet no idea what I will write. Don't worry, I'll think of something!
Thanks to all of you that have been reading and encouraging me and Julian on this journey of hers. It has been almost two years since I started it (Jan 2010), and it's been a fun ride, though frustrating at times. I really appreciate all the support from my fellow forumers here at Chorrol.
I'm working steadily on Chapter 29, and hope to have it ready for posting before the end of THIS month.
Then it's Nanowrimo time, so I don't know if I will get Chapters 30, 31 and 32 written until after the end of November. We'll see.
@Kazaera: Daron was the Redguard that wouldn't let Julian heal him when she was on her way back to Skingrad after Anvil. She came upon that little Gate near Fat Rump Camp (I know, it's Fat Ramp, but Rump makes more sense to me), and found him mutilated by daedra. He wouldn't let her heal him, and instead asked for a quick ending. Thanks for your kind words about Enar and Dalia - they really came alive as I was writing the scene. I've done enough writing to know that I'd be better off letting them tell the story.
@Grits: You sure it's your mind that got elevated? The stuff you've been writing lately has been genius!
@SubRosa: Thanks for the terrific words! I rather thought you might enjoy Blanco's help in this episode. As for the bandits recognizing Sai, I wanted to place him more firmly in the TES world. And a dog like Sai is certainly unforgettable!
@Acadian: The inkstone actually is a real item noted in Chinese and Korean history. It's a block of hardened, solidified ink (baked, I think) that they grind with a small stone, then use a wet brush to liquefy the ground powder. I think it's a great way to transport ink without getting it all over your bag, your clothes, and your whitey-whites (as vials tend to leak, right?).
@Destri: Ah, my comrade-in-arms! I'm glad you caught up, only now it's my turn to catch up! To tell you the truth, I'm not sure if Sai is manipulating Julian or not. Blanco certainly is! Poor woman! As for Captain Steffan, just how uphill it's going to be will become apparent in a couple more chapters. Ah yes, we are approaching the point where she declares her feelings for him in a very emphatic manner. And no, I doubt it is quite in the way you're thinking . . .
I had forgotten about Mongo! Thanks for the reminder!@Olen: I think you're right, Julian's not going to like what Martin has in store for her. Of course, she won't like what she finds in Bruma, either, when she stops by on her way up the mountain.
@Athynae: Thanks for the kind words! It's folks like you that keep me writing on this story - both in your replies to my chapters, but also in the stories you are yourselves writing. Things have become quite inspiring here lately!
@treydog: I'm glad you're caught up, too. And I'm delighted that you enjoyed it so much. Denial is a river in Cyrodiil?? Where?? I'd love to take Julian there and slap her upside the head! Thanks for the input and the nits. I will fix them when I open up the story on my Mac partition (currently I'm in my W7 mode, having just completed my schoolwork for this week). I like to fix them in the original file as I update the forum posts. Hopefully I've caught them all by now.
I don't have anything more to post just yet. I have four posts of Chapter 29 written up, and I think it's good for another one or two more segments. I want to take the time to review them, tweak 'em if necessary before I start posting again.
This session I am enrolled in only one class instead of two. I'm hoping that it helps with the writing, as I've fallen way behind. And I have Nanowrimo coming up as well, and plan to participate again this year. Though I have yet no idea what I will write. Don't worry, I'll think of something!
Thanks to all of you that have been reading and encouraging me and Julian on this journey of hers. It has been almost two years since I started it (Jan 2010), and it's been a fun ride, though frustrating at times. I really appreciate all the support from my fellow forumers here at Chorrol.
Hi all:
Nanowrimo started yesterday, and I'm off on a new story.
But ironically enough, it has helped me start writing again on Julian's story. She is happy enough to listen to the NNWM story, then tell me hers. It's great to have the creative juices going so well again.
So Chapter 29 isn't quite done, but I have enough to get us through November. So without further ado . . .
Julian has left Miscarcand and is on her way back to Cloud Ruler Temple. But first a stop in Bruma to check in with friends and to seek a little professional advice.
*************************
Chapter 29.1: A Welcome to Bruma
Blanco was too happy to stop and visit with the Paint mares at the Wildeye Stables, just outside the city walls. They made it clear that they weren’t interested in him, and he settled down quickly enough in the winter shed that blocked the wind off the mountains to the north.
I noticed that he made certain to stand close to his tack on the rack beneath the eaves of the shed. After he had chased off a street urchin trying to sneak into the saddlebags outside of Skingrad, I had realized that Blanco seemed well aware of the importance of the Great Welkynd stone resting within. I recalled how he stood guard beside the packs in Merowald’s paddock yesterday.
“I’ll be back for him,” I said to Humilis Nonius. The Imperial stablehand nodded, his somber eyes eyeing Sai warily.
“Not to worry, I’ll have him ready right quick when you’re ready to leave, ma’am.”
I gestured toward the haft of the war axe jutting skyward behind his shoulder. “Trouble lately?”
“Ach, it’s these damned Gates,” Nonius shook his head vehemently. “The Guard’s pretty good about keeping those daedra away from the stables, but one can’t be too careful, right?”
“Better safe than sorry,” I agreed. “I’ll see you in a bit, then.” I turned and headed out the corral. Sai remained rooted to the ground near the winter shed. He returned my gaze when I paused and looked back at him.
Sai looked from Blanco to me, indecision in every line in his body. I glanced toward the towering East Gate just a short walk from the stables, the still-smoldering ruin of the Oblivion Gate beyond just visible past the curve of the high stone walls. More of the Bruma guard stood outside the walls than when I had passed them by on my last departure from Cloud Ruler Temple. I could see the remnants of a few more daedric portals scattered among the rocks and boulders that marked the plateau of Bruma.
He’s nervous with so many soldiers around. Well, he’d better get used to it, where we’re going, there’s nothing but soldiers! I gestured Sai to heel. He sprang to my left side, his hackles bristling at the yellow surcoats. I could see their eyes glimmering sideways toward me and dropped my hand to Sai’s ears.
He paced alongside me as I approached the guards. I could feel his body against the side of my leg by the time we reached the first pair.
“Good afternoon, ma’am,” they stood at attention. I frowned at them. I’m not one of their officers - I peered closer at the taller of the two. It’s Bor. And Soren.
“As you were, men,” I spoke softly. “I’m not one of your officers.”
“No, ma’am,” Bor agreed, his pale blue eyes shifting toward me with a twinkle. “But you led us like one in there,” he jerked a thumb toward the Gate we had closed together.
I shook off the compliment. Or was it a compliment? “And you’ve been busy since, I see.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Soren nodded shortly. I looked past him to see four more guards ranged within the enclosed space before the tall portal. Beyond its wooden gates standing wide open, I could see General Talos standing high above a bustling plaza.
“Captain Burd boosted the guard out here?” I glanced at the two men.
“There’s been an increase in the rate these Oblivion Gates have been opening,” Soren explained. “Started out at once a week or every ten days, now it’s every other day.” He nodded outward. “Seven have opened between here and Applewatch, and four to the south.”
“And we’re full up with all the reinforcements from the other counties,” Bor added.
A sudden concern caused me to inhale sharply. Sai glanced up at me and licked my fingers. “How is that working out?”
“Most of them are camped in the Castle, both in the main Keep and out in the courtyard,” Bor shrugged. “They’re getting along rather well, I think. Most of them are good people.”
“I wouldn’t want to mess with that Bravil captain, though,” Soren remarked, rolling his eyes at me. “She’s a hardcase, that one.”
I stifled a smile at that succinct summation of the character of Viera Lerus. “I take it her Guardsmen don’t cause any trouble?”
“‘Blivion’s globes, no!” Soren ducked his head at the sharp glance Bor sent him. “Excuse me, ma’am.”
“I’m the last one to be offended by something like that,” now I smiled. “My optio will tell you my language has been worse than that.” I cocked my head thoughtfully at him. “Though that’s a new one to me. I’ll have to remember that.” Beside me, Sai relaxed at my tone. “But do tell me,” I returned to the more serious topic, “have any of the other guards caused problems in Bruma?”
The two Bruma guardsmen exchanged glances across the width of the gateway. “Well,” Bor met my gaze with some trepidation, “those Leyawiin men are a bit -“
“Hoity-toity, like,” Soren added when his mate’s voice trailed off. “Think they’re better than every one else. But they do the least amount of work of all of them!”
My heart sank. If this is what Count Caro calls aid, we may have been better off without his help. “How do you mean?”
“They don’t drill with the rest of us,” Bor frowned. “They don’t bother to learn what we know about the inside of them Gates. And they don’t stow and shine their gear like the rest of us.” He jerked his head backwards over his right shoulder at the open gates beyond. “You’ll see if you go up to the castle courtyard. You’ll know their area by the mess.”
“And they lord it over the locals,” Soren added, a growl emerging in his voice. Sai turned his head toward the Redguard. “Not just us guardsmen, but the civilians, too. And the one thing Captain Burd’s taught us -“ he rolled his eyes again, “- well, those of us not Skyrim-bred like that lunkhead over there,” he nodded in Bor’s direction. Vapor spurted in silent chuckles from the lean Nord’s lips. “The Cap’n’s taught us to always respect the local civilians and their Skyrim ways.”
I turned to face Soren more fully. “Are you saying all Nords are lunkheads?”
“No ma’am,” Soren’s tone had the familiarity of refuting an old argument. “Just that one there.”
This time Bor laughed heartily. “Just like me callin’ him a knuckledragger doesn’t mean you’re one, ma’am, or Cirroc, or any other Redguard.”
A chuckle escaped my lips in spite of my efforts to maintain a serious demeanor. Sai yipped once and sat down, leaning his shoulder against my knee. “Who is in charge of the Leyawiin contingent?” I managed to turn serious again.
“One Valeria Cordelius,” Soren’s gaze remained on Sai. “She’s the worst of the lot, if you ask me.”
I think I’d prefer to see for myself. “Is that the only contingent that is giving you trouble here in town?”
“Pretty much, yes,” Soren nodded. “Though there are individuals here and there that kind of rub the wrong way.”
“That Ulrich Leland!” Bor snorted. “Already he and Cap’n had a few clashing eyes, though he’s not done anything obvious, like.”
“Really?” I remarked, my heart sinking. And Viera Lerus? She did promise me that she would not challenge Burd’s authority here.
“Aye, when Cap’n first advised him of the drill schedule we have, Leland was against his guards drilling with us. But after fighting a few of the daedra around the next Gate, he changed his mind.”
Inexperienced? Maybe, but why would he be Captain if he lacked combat experience? I put the question aside.
The wind nudged the enchanted brown cloak off my right shoulder and kissed my neck with a razor edge. I shivered involuntarily. “Gods! I’m getting cold out here!” I shook my head at the two men. “Frostbite potions?”
“Specialty of milady Orania,” Soren grinned at me. “Lasts through an entire watch.”
“I’m going to have to speak to her about them,” I grumbled. “But not standing out here! I’ll see you both around, I suppose.”
“Aye, we’ll be around,” Bor agreed.
Nanowrimo started yesterday, and I'm off on a new story.
But ironically enough, it has helped me start writing again on Julian's story. She is happy enough to listen to the NNWM story, then tell me hers. It's great to have the creative juices going so well again.
So Chapter 29 isn't quite done, but I have enough to get us through November. So without further ado . . .
Julian has left Miscarcand and is on her way back to Cloud Ruler Temple. But first a stop in Bruma to check in with friends and to seek a little professional advice.
*************************
Chapter 29.1: A Welcome to Bruma
Blanco was too happy to stop and visit with the Paint mares at the Wildeye Stables, just outside the city walls. They made it clear that they weren’t interested in him, and he settled down quickly enough in the winter shed that blocked the wind off the mountains to the north.
I noticed that he made certain to stand close to his tack on the rack beneath the eaves of the shed. After he had chased off a street urchin trying to sneak into the saddlebags outside of Skingrad, I had realized that Blanco seemed well aware of the importance of the Great Welkynd stone resting within. I recalled how he stood guard beside the packs in Merowald’s paddock yesterday.
“I’ll be back for him,” I said to Humilis Nonius. The Imperial stablehand nodded, his somber eyes eyeing Sai warily.
“Not to worry, I’ll have him ready right quick when you’re ready to leave, ma’am.”
I gestured toward the haft of the war axe jutting skyward behind his shoulder. “Trouble lately?”
“Ach, it’s these damned Gates,” Nonius shook his head vehemently. “The Guard’s pretty good about keeping those daedra away from the stables, but one can’t be too careful, right?”
“Better safe than sorry,” I agreed. “I’ll see you in a bit, then.” I turned and headed out the corral. Sai remained rooted to the ground near the winter shed. He returned my gaze when I paused and looked back at him.
Sai looked from Blanco to me, indecision in every line in his body. I glanced toward the towering East Gate just a short walk from the stables, the still-smoldering ruin of the Oblivion Gate beyond just visible past the curve of the high stone walls. More of the Bruma guard stood outside the walls than when I had passed them by on my last departure from Cloud Ruler Temple. I could see the remnants of a few more daedric portals scattered among the rocks and boulders that marked the plateau of Bruma.
He’s nervous with so many soldiers around. Well, he’d better get used to it, where we’re going, there’s nothing but soldiers! I gestured Sai to heel. He sprang to my left side, his hackles bristling at the yellow surcoats. I could see their eyes glimmering sideways toward me and dropped my hand to Sai’s ears.
He paced alongside me as I approached the guards. I could feel his body against the side of my leg by the time we reached the first pair.
“Good afternoon, ma’am,” they stood at attention. I frowned at them. I’m not one of their officers - I peered closer at the taller of the two. It’s Bor. And Soren.
“As you were, men,” I spoke softly. “I’m not one of your officers.”
“No, ma’am,” Bor agreed, his pale blue eyes shifting toward me with a twinkle. “But you led us like one in there,” he jerked a thumb toward the Gate we had closed together.
I shook off the compliment. Or was it a compliment? “And you’ve been busy since, I see.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Soren nodded shortly. I looked past him to see four more guards ranged within the enclosed space before the tall portal. Beyond its wooden gates standing wide open, I could see General Talos standing high above a bustling plaza.
“Captain Burd boosted the guard out here?” I glanced at the two men.
“There’s been an increase in the rate these Oblivion Gates have been opening,” Soren explained. “Started out at once a week or every ten days, now it’s every other day.” He nodded outward. “Seven have opened between here and Applewatch, and four to the south.”
“And we’re full up with all the reinforcements from the other counties,” Bor added.
A sudden concern caused me to inhale sharply. Sai glanced up at me and licked my fingers. “How is that working out?”
“Most of them are camped in the Castle, both in the main Keep and out in the courtyard,” Bor shrugged. “They’re getting along rather well, I think. Most of them are good people.”
“I wouldn’t want to mess with that Bravil captain, though,” Soren remarked, rolling his eyes at me. “She’s a hardcase, that one.”
I stifled a smile at that succinct summation of the character of Viera Lerus. “I take it her Guardsmen don’t cause any trouble?”
“‘Blivion’s globes, no!” Soren ducked his head at the sharp glance Bor sent him. “Excuse me, ma’am.”
“I’m the last one to be offended by something like that,” now I smiled. “My optio will tell you my language has been worse than that.” I cocked my head thoughtfully at him. “Though that’s a new one to me. I’ll have to remember that.” Beside me, Sai relaxed at my tone. “But do tell me,” I returned to the more serious topic, “have any of the other guards caused problems in Bruma?”
The two Bruma guardsmen exchanged glances across the width of the gateway. “Well,” Bor met my gaze with some trepidation, “those Leyawiin men are a bit -“
“Hoity-toity, like,” Soren added when his mate’s voice trailed off. “Think they’re better than every one else. But they do the least amount of work of all of them!”
My heart sank. If this is what Count Caro calls aid, we may have been better off without his help. “How do you mean?”
“They don’t drill with the rest of us,” Bor frowned. “They don’t bother to learn what we know about the inside of them Gates. And they don’t stow and shine their gear like the rest of us.” He jerked his head backwards over his right shoulder at the open gates beyond. “You’ll see if you go up to the castle courtyard. You’ll know their area by the mess.”
“And they lord it over the locals,” Soren added, a growl emerging in his voice. Sai turned his head toward the Redguard. “Not just us guardsmen, but the civilians, too. And the one thing Captain Burd’s taught us -“ he rolled his eyes again, “- well, those of us not Skyrim-bred like that lunkhead over there,” he nodded in Bor’s direction. Vapor spurted in silent chuckles from the lean Nord’s lips. “The Cap’n’s taught us to always respect the local civilians and their Skyrim ways.”
I turned to face Soren more fully. “Are you saying all Nords are lunkheads?”
“No ma’am,” Soren’s tone had the familiarity of refuting an old argument. “Just that one there.”
This time Bor laughed heartily. “Just like me callin’ him a knuckledragger doesn’t mean you’re one, ma’am, or Cirroc, or any other Redguard.”
A chuckle escaped my lips in spite of my efforts to maintain a serious demeanor. Sai yipped once and sat down, leaning his shoulder against my knee. “Who is in charge of the Leyawiin contingent?” I managed to turn serious again.
“One Valeria Cordelius,” Soren’s gaze remained on Sai. “She’s the worst of the lot, if you ask me.”
I think I’d prefer to see for myself. “Is that the only contingent that is giving you trouble here in town?”
“Pretty much, yes,” Soren nodded. “Though there are individuals here and there that kind of rub the wrong way.”
“That Ulrich Leland!” Bor snorted. “Already he and Cap’n had a few clashing eyes, though he’s not done anything obvious, like.”
“Really?” I remarked, my heart sinking. And Viera Lerus? She did promise me that she would not challenge Burd’s authority here.
“Aye, when Cap’n first advised him of the drill schedule we have, Leland was against his guards drilling with us. But after fighting a few of the daedra around the next Gate, he changed his mind.”
Inexperienced? Maybe, but why would he be Captain if he lacked combat experience? I put the question aside.
The wind nudged the enchanted brown cloak off my right shoulder and kissed my neck with a razor edge. I shivered involuntarily. “Gods! I’m getting cold out here!” I shook my head at the two men. “Frostbite potions?”
“Specialty of milady Orania,” Soren grinned at me. “Lasts through an entire watch.”
“I’m going to have to speak to her about them,” I grumbled. “But not standing out here! I’ll see you both around, I suppose.”
“Aye, we’ll be around,” Bor agreed.
Another wonderful post full of Julian's compassion, she IS connected to these men. I can't wait to see how she handles Cordelia and her men. She never ceases to not only impress me with her strategies but in cases like this I have no doubt there will be some humor too.
Great write Haute, I look forward to more...soon. Best of luck with the Nanowrimo!!!
Great write Haute, I look forward to more...soon. Best of luck with the Nanowrimo!!!
I think Blanco's Witchhorsieness is showing again, given his protective feelings toward the great welkynd stone.
I could see General Talos standing high above a bustling plaza.
I enjoyed this, as it tells us so much of Julian's character. It is not Emperor Tiber Septim, but rather General Talos. We see the legion stamped all over her.
It was interesting to see the inside view of all these guard contingents mixing together. Most stories would portray them as one big, smoothly functioning unit. But instead you have shown them to us as being a diverse bunch, with equally divergent personalities. It comes as no surprise that the bunch from Leyawiin would be malcontents that Count Caro would want rid of (much as Count Bravil wanted rid of his malcontent, but for a vastly different reason!) And Leland, well, those of us who know him only hope he ends up at the wrong end of a daedric longsword. Too bad he is essential at this point in the game.
I could see General Talos standing high above a bustling plaza.
I enjoyed this, as it tells us so much of Julian's character. It is not Emperor Tiber Septim, but rather General Talos. We see the legion stamped all over her.
It was interesting to see the inside view of all these guard contingents mixing together. Most stories would portray them as one big, smoothly functioning unit. But instead you have shown them to us as being a diverse bunch, with equally divergent personalities. It comes as no surprise that the bunch from Leyawiin would be malcontents that Count Caro would want rid of (much as Count Bravil wanted rid of his malcontent, but for a vastly different reason!
) And Leland, well, those of us who know him only hope he ends up at the wrong end of a daedric longsword. Too bad he is essential at this point in the game.
How great that Julian is cooperating with NNWM! Thank you for relieving my concerns that I would have to wait until December for a Julian fix. Now I can say good luck with your novel, and really mean it.
“Ach, it’s these damned Gates,” Nonius shook his head vehemently. “The Guard’s pretty good about keeping those daedra away from the stables, but one can’t be too careful, right?”
I’m always worried about this during the crisis. Ever since that mountain lion incident at Horse Whisper Stables (in a game), I make sure I put my horse behind a closed gate. Not sure if that would help, though.
Vapor spurted in silent chuckles from the lean Nord’s lips.
I love the banter between Soren and Bor, and especially this image. It was very interesting to get a look at the inner workings of the allies for Bruma. There would be regional differences and rivalries, but I never thought about it until now.
I also enjoyed the behavior from Blanco and Sai. Blanco is in full Witchhorse mode, and Sai’s uneasiness makes me wonder again about his history.
“Specialty of milady Orania,” Soren grinned at me. “Lasts through an entire watch.”
It’s great to hear something nice about a member of the Bruma Mages Guild. They must be in high gear now too, with all of the gates opening around Bruma and a bunch of southerners to keep warm. I get a real sense of the escalating crisis in the opening of this chapter. Julian has been on solo missions (with the dog), and now she’s back in with all of the players. I’m looking forward to seeing Burd, and then finding out how Martin is holding up. And all of the others at Cloud Ruler Temple.
“Ach, it’s these damned Gates,” Nonius shook his head vehemently. “The Guard’s pretty good about keeping those daedra away from the stables, but one can’t be too careful, right?”
I’m always worried about this during the crisis. Ever since that mountain lion incident at Horse Whisper Stables (in a game), I make sure I put my horse behind a closed gate. Not sure if that would help, though.
Vapor spurted in silent chuckles from the lean Nord’s lips.
I love the banter between Soren and Bor, and especially this image. It was very interesting to get a look at the inner workings of the allies for Bruma. There would be regional differences and rivalries, but I never thought about it until now.
I also enjoyed the behavior from Blanco and Sai. Blanco is in full Witchhorse mode, and Sai’s uneasiness makes me wonder again about his history.
“Specialty of milady Orania,” Soren grinned at me. “Lasts through an entire watch.”
It’s great to hear something nice about a member of the Bruma Mages Guild. They must be in high gear now too, with all of the gates opening around Bruma and a bunch of southerners to keep warm. I get a real sense of the escalating crisis in the opening of this chapter. Julian has been on solo missions (with the dog), and now she’s back in with all of the players. I’m looking forward to seeing Burd, and then finding out how Martin is holding up. And all of the others at Cloud Ruler Temple.
Welcome back to posting for you and to Bruma for Julian!
And what a great job of capturing the martial bustling of Bruma at this stage. I enjoyed how you pointed out the differing temperaments and personalities that are only partially muted by the uniforms.
’I shook off the compliment. Or was it a compliment? “And you’ve been busy since, I see.”
What a perfect sentiment for a senior NCO to have. And delivered in such a delightfully understated way!
’The wind nudged the enchanted brown cloak off my right shoulder and kissed my neck with a razor edge. I shivered involuntarily.’
I’m positively jealous of how masterfully you worded this! Simply magical.
Nit?
’I noticed that he made certain to stand as close to his tack on the rack beneath the eaves of the shed.’
Perhaps it is just me, but I paused at this to reread, looking for the answer to ‘as close to his tack {on the rack beneath the eaves of the shed} as what?’ I wonder if the word ‘as’ was perhaps simply a remnant from an earlier edit?
And what a great job of capturing the martial bustling of Bruma at this stage. I enjoyed how you pointed out the differing temperaments and personalities that are only partially muted by the uniforms.
’I shook off the compliment. Or was it a compliment? “And you’ve been busy since, I see.”
What a perfect sentiment for a senior NCO to have. And delivered in such a delightfully understated way!
’The wind nudged the enchanted brown cloak off my right shoulder and kissed my neck with a razor edge. I shivered involuntarily.’
I’m positively jealous of how masterfully you worded this! Simply magical.
Nit?
’I noticed that he made certain to stand as close to his tack on the rack beneath the eaves of the shed.’
Perhaps it is just me, but I paused at this to reread, looking for the answer to ‘as close to his tack {on the rack beneath the eaves of the shed} as what?’ I wonder if the word ‘as’ was perhaps simply a remnant from an earlier edit?
First- HOORAY for new Julian story! Ahem. With that out of the way, let us get to the good parts. Oh wait- they are ALL "good parts." In that case, the parts that I liked best.
Sai's reaction to the multitude of guards shows once again your eye for detail. He WAS a "bandit dog" for a long time- official livery cannot have positive connotations for him- yet.
The problems with the Leyawiin contingent put me in mind of a maxim Julian knows quite well:
Bad leadership makes for bad soldiers.
And Julian shows her sense of responsibility once more. She was the motive force behind those "outsider" troops coming to Bruma- she cannot help but feel that their behavior reflects upon HER honor. Whether that feeling is "logical" is quite beside the point- it IS the way she FEELS.
Ah- wonderful weaving of story and personalities and politics once again.
Sai's reaction to the multitude of guards shows once again your eye for detail. He WAS a "bandit dog" for a long time- official livery cannot have positive connotations for him- yet.
The problems with the Leyawiin contingent put me in mind of a maxim Julian knows quite well:
Bad leadership makes for bad soldiers.
And Julian shows her sense of responsibility once more. She was the motive force behind those "outsider" troops coming to Bruma- she cannot help but feel that their behavior reflects upon HER honor. Whether that feeling is "logical" is quite beside the point- it IS the way she FEELS.
Ah- wonderful weaving of story and personalities and politics once again.
A continuation. Exciting .
As every Blanco and Sai hold their own as characters. Blanco seems rather smarter than the average horse, certainly those bags should be safe. Sai is entertaining as always, there's something pleasingly light-hearted about him. His dislike of the guard is understandable, but ultimatly he wants to protect Julian rather than hurt them I think so he should settle down fine.
The idea of trouble in Bruma from all the guards makes sense. That Julian will make it her job to sort it is only natural. I doubt this Valeria Cordelius knows whats about to hit her. Still given what's coming I suspect many of the undesirables will either be changed or dead. Of course the way you introduced them was excellent, it's always nice to see old characters again.
I wonder how things are with the mages...
. As every Blanco and Sai hold their own as characters. Blanco seems rather smarter than the average horse, certainly those bags should be safe. Sai is entertaining as always, there's something pleasingly light-hearted about him. His dislike of the guard is understandable, but ultimatly he wants to protect Julian rather than hurt them I think so he should settle down fine.
The idea of trouble in Bruma from all the guards makes sense. That Julian will make it her job to sort it is only natural. I doubt this Valeria Cordelius knows whats about to hit her. Still given what's coming I suspect many of the undesirables will either be changed or dead. Of course the way you introduced them was excellent, it's always nice to see old characters again.
I wonder how things are with the mages...
Hiya, there. I'm all caught up again after getting so behind.
Very nail-biting journey through Miscarcand. Well done on capturing everything, from Julian's PTSD panic attack from noticing the Shaman all the way to the final battle against thewitch lich king of Angmar Miscarcand. Good thing Julian was no man!
I very much enjoyed our return to Bruma, as well. Interesting to see a bit of unrest between the camps, makes one wonder how they are going to fare in the battle soon to come.
Though considering her episode with J'Skar and Volanaro, I have no question in my mind Julian will whip those Leyawiin snob-slobs into shape faster than you can say pilus prior!
Very nail-biting journey through Miscarcand. Well done on capturing everything, from Julian's PTSD panic attack from noticing the Shaman all the way to the final battle against the
I very much enjoyed our return to Bruma, as well. Interesting to see a bit of unrest between the camps, makes one wonder how they are going to fare in the battle soon to come.
Though considering her episode with J'Skar and Volanaro, I have no question in my mind Julian will whip those Leyawiin snob-slobs into shape faster than you can say pilus prior!
Loving this bit, I always love the idea of the muster by Bruma...My favourite bit of the main quest, going around all little camp bits, hearing how they interact...Most excellently rendered here...
Ulrich Leland is always a boo-hiss baddie, interested to see if he turns up more... ...
Most excellent...
Nice one!... ...
Ulrich Leland is always a boo-hiss baddie, interested to see if he turns up more...
...Most excellent...
Nice one!...
...
@Athynae: I don't know about the humor, but I had a great time letting Julian's pilus out of the bag. You'll get to judge in a few more posts.
@SubRosa: I know people are itching for Julian to tangle with that nose-in-the-air Leland. Even if she doesn't do so here in Bruma, at least we know he survives to face her afterwards . . . In any case, as for Blanco, I wanted to remind everyone of his Witchhorse status. That's something both Julian and I are still figuring out. And of course it would be General Talos, not Emperor Tiber! I personally think the General is a far more fascinating character than the Emperor. Of course, a certain Redguard historian may have had something to do with it . . .
@Grits: I know, it's great that Julian is cooperating. But she knows from last year that if I get a plot bunny out of the way, I come back to her story. And she's having as much fun listening to the NNWM story as I am! And oh, boy, does she keep that internal editor in line! I'm glad you enjoyed the banter between Bor and Soren. They were always friends, which is why Burd selected them to go in that Gate with him and Julian. Their shared experiences in that place only served to strengthen their bond, their loyalty to Burd, and their respect for Julian.
@Acadian: Somehow I just knew you would catch the double meaning behind Julian's thoughts about the 'compliment!' Yes, Julian is like most senior NCO's, with a rather cockeyed perspective of officers. On the one hand, it's nice to be mistaken for an officer, but on the other hand, knowing officers as she does, well . . . Thanks for the nit!
@treydog: Thank you for picking up on Julian's sense of responsibility for these 'reinforcements' she has dumped on Burd. Though she did not have any input at all on who was sent, she still believes that if not for her, Burd wouldn't have these additional headaches. And yes, it takes a while for Sai to feel comfortable among soldiers. You'll see in the next post that not all guards are the same.
@Olen: It's funny that you should mention mages, because that is where we're going next!
@TK: You're right about how Julian will whip those lazy lay-abouts into shape. But you'll have to wait. I'm glad you found Miscarcand nail-biting. It was one of the scariest parts of the whole MQ, and quite possibly the entire game.
@McB: Welcome to OHDH! I hope you continue to enjoy this story as it heads slowly toward its inevitable conclusion.
Now Julian has returned to Bruma, she pays a visit to the Bruma chapter of the Mages Guild.
*******************
Chapter 29.2: Warming Up at the Mages Guild
Frasoric greeted me with her usual fizzling magic and indomitable optimism. “Why, good afternoon, Associate! I heard you’ve completed all the recommendations! Congratulations!”
“Thank you,” I murmured, gesturing Sai to hold as another cloud of emerald sizzled between the chapter head and me.
“Have you gone to the University yet?” Frasoric wouldn’t let me continue. “Isn’t it wonderful?” She stood a little taller on her tiptoes for a moment before sinking her heels back to the floor.
“I haven’t, yet,” I responded when she paused for breath. “I’ve had a few other tasks to attend to.” Like recover Tiber Septim’s armor, and that Great Welkynd stone in my bags. “I stopped in to speak to Orania, if she’s available?”
“Of course!” Frasoric waved toward the alchemist’s office, just behind the counter. “But Cirroc’s with her. A consultation, I believe.” Her gaze fell on Sai. “Oh, have you been practicing your conjuring? But I didn’t know there was a spell for that!” Envy tinged her tone.
“Umm, no,” I shook my head at the woman’s single-mindedness. “He’s flesh and blood, like you and me. This is Sai the Lucky, and he’s kind of made himself my friend.” I brushed his ears lightly with my fingertips as I looked down at him. He met my gaze swiftly, then returned his attention to another conjuration failure.
“Oh, but you could have fooled me!” Now relief flooded her voice. Was she jealous when she thought I could conjure up a dog? What’s there to be jealous about? Oh, that’s right, she can’t even whistle up a scamp! “With those blue eyes of his, I was convinced he was from the Void!”
“More like a bandit camp,” I remarked dryly. “I’ll peek in and let Orania and Cirroc know I’d like to speak to them.” I suited my actions to my words, signaling Sai to stay close to my side.
“Very well!” Frasoric turned away from me in tacit dismissal, continuing her practice, which had never ceased during our conversation. Is that why you can’t conjure a scamp to save your life? I put the thought aside. Battlemages can swing a sword and cast spells simultaneously, why can’t Frasoric talk and conjure at the same time? It must be in how she practices. Wonder if magic uses muscle memory, much the same way that swordfighting does. If so, she must have skipped the basic focusing drills. Trying to do too much too soon?
In the alchemist’s office, Orania and Cirroc stood over her work counter, heads together in murmured conversation. The pungent scent of crushed wormwood leaves filled the room as Orania’s hands worked independently of her voice.
Sai lifted his nose and sniffed loudly, then whined. Cirroc, his back to the door, glanced around. His dark eyes lit up when he recognized me. “Julian!”
“I’d like to speak to both of you,” I paused in the doorway. “But I can wait until you’re free.”
“No, no, come in!” Orania smiled warmly at me. “And I see you have a new companion, as well,” her gaze dropped to Sai.
“Yes, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” I stepped into the room. Cirroc cleared a pile of workbooks off the stool next to him. He glanced at me again as he straightened up.
“The dog?” He held his hand out toward Sai, who approached slowly and sniffed curiously, his tail waving slowly.
Orania set her mortar and pestle down and rinsed her hands in a nearby bowl, drying them on a small towel. She rounded the counter and stopped beside Cirroc, her gaze on Sai.
“He looks well enough,” she commented, kneeling down. Sai sniffed at her hands, then licked her face in a friendly greeting. She stroked his thick ruff. “How can a healer and an alchemist help you with this dog?”
“You can explain something to me,” I answered, meeting Orania’s gaze as she looked up over Sai’s pointed ears. “I found him in a bandit camp. He had been injured when the bandits were attacking a Legion rider.” I pointed at the bald patch over his right shoulder. “Open fracture of the - um - humerus?”
It was Cirroc’s turn to kneel beside Sai. After a friendly ruffle of his ears, Cirroc moved his hands down to the healed scar, much as I had on that rainy afternoon. “Yes, the humerus,” he nodded after a palpation of the area. “I see the hair’s beginning to grow back.” He glanced up at me. “What about it?”
“That was a little over a week ago,” I continued. Both healer and alchemist regarded the shoulder, then me. “I used my Convalescence spell and what Cirroc had taught me about battlefield wounds.”
“I didn’t see him limping, Julian,” Orania ran her hand down Sai’s back and rose to her feet, brushing her palms together. Dark brown hair drifted in the golden lamplight as she crossed to a bubbling alembic at the rear of the room. “Tea to warm you up?” At my nod, she began pouring the simmering amber fluid into a glass beaker. I hope that’s clean.
Cirroc gave the healed area a final examination, then rose to his feet and returned to his stool. “Looks like you did a fine job of it, Julian.”
“So there isn’t any difference between healing an animal and healing a human or mer?” I accepted the steaming cup as Orania resumed her place at the mortar and pestle. It had been something that had been bothering me for some time. Why do chapel healers refuse to heal animals? Why is Marz the exception to the rule? Why is it left up to owners to heal their own livestock? Not everyone has the knowledge that trained healers have.
“There’s a few anatomical differences between humans, mer and animals,” Cirroc shrugged. “But those differences come into play largely in surgery, and in your choice of potions.”
“For example,” Orania added, “there are some plants that are toxic for cats, as well as Khajiit, but are well-tolerated by other species. And everyone knows of the Argonian resistance to poisons.”
Cirroc was nodding. “So you healed this dog of a traumatic injury. Really, when it comes down to it, trauma is trauma, and healing proceeds in the same manner regardless of the species.” His eyes narrowed at me. “But that’s not what is bothering you.”
I took a sip of the tea, wondering how to frame my question without causing offense. The mildly astringent taste gave me the courage to proceed. “Why don’t Chapel healers and Guild alchemists heal animals too?”
Cirroc’s eyebrows rose, and Orania’s hands paused in their grinding. “What?” Cirroc leaned his elbow on the counter. “Where did you get such an idea?”
“Get that - that thing out of here!” the Imperial woman seized me by the shoulders and pushed me toward the tall double doors. “How dare you defile the Chapel of Dibella with such filth!”
“But he’s hurt and needs help!” My nine-year old body resisted the Chapel healer’s physical urgings. The bedraggled creature clutched in my arms did not move in spite of our wrestling movements.
“It’s just a cat!” Somehow Lucilla Piconaea had managed to steer me to the carved wooden panels. With one claw on my left shoulder, she wrestled the door open far enough to push me out into the downpour. “And don’t think about going to Felen Relas at the Mages Guild! He’ll capture that cat’s soul in one of those evil gems!” The heavy door slammed shut with a deadly finality.
“He’s not just a cat!” Tears mingled with the cold rain on the black-and-white blood-splattered fur. “He’s Cao! He keeps the mice out of Mother’s garden! You can’t let him die!”
Those tears turned my voice ragged as I briefly told them about the little mouser who had appeared on Mother’s doorstep one cold winter evening and adopted us as his family. “He died before I could get him home to Mother.”
“And this Lucilla Piconaea told you Chapel healers do not tend to animals?” The suppressed fury in Cirroc’s tone drew both my and Sai’s eyes to him.
“I never questioned that,” I admitted, thinking back to my surprise when Frederick had mentioned Marz’s fondness for creatures. “Not until Marz in Bravil helped me heal Paint.”
“And it didn’t occur to you to ask why Marz would heal Paint after thinking for years it was forbidden?” Cirroc shook his head. “The decision to heal animals, or not, lies with the individual healer. Some do, some don’t.”
“Do you?” I held my gaze steady on the Bruma healer’s dark eyes.
“Of course!” Cirroc nodded emphatically. “Especially if it’s a black and white mouser in the arms of a heartbroken little girl.” He reached down to gently stroke Sai’s ears. “Or a Skyrim Husky mix at the side of a battle-hardened warrior.” His smile gleamed at me. “Not that Sai needs anything from me. You’ve done an admirable job of healing him.”
“I’ve been with the Guild for seventeen years,” Orania declared, scraping the macerated remains of the motherwort out of her pestle into a calcinator. “I can not recall there ever being a proscription against treating animals there, either. And my potions are for animal use as well as human, mer, or tailed folk.”
“Good,” I sighed with sudden relief. “Because I used all of your extra-strength healing potions on Sai.”
“I thought you healed that leg with just your Convalescence spell?” Orania added something else to the calcinator, something I could not recognize.
“I did,” I took another sip of the tea. “But he insisted on accompanying me into - a dangerous situation, and got himself banged up on more than one occasion.” Fondly I ruffled the scruff of Sai’s neck as he leaned happily against my leg. “He wouldn’t let me face those goblins by myself.”
“He’s not military trained?” Cirroc exclaimed. “But I saw you using those Legion signals with him, I assumed -“
“He knows some, but not all,” I thought back over the trip from Skingrad to Bruma. “He knows stay, quiet, come. But he doesn’t know take cover, go there, or some of the others I’ve watched Legio Ten use with their war dogs.” I shook my head. “And I’m not sure how to train him to those signals.” Playfully I rapped my knuckles gently on his skull between those prick ears. “Nor do I know if he can be trained!”
“I see I had better teach you what’s safe to use for cats and Khajiiti, then,” Orania chuckled as she refilled her own beaker with the tea. “Never know when you might encounter a cat to rescue!”
@SubRosa: I know people are itching for Julian to tangle with that nose-in-the-air Leland. Even if she doesn't do so here in Bruma, at least we know he survives to face her afterwards . . .
In any case, as for Blanco, I wanted to remind everyone of his Witchhorse status. That's something both Julian and I are still figuring out. And of course it would be General Talos, not Emperor Tiber! I personally think the General is a far more fascinating character than the Emperor. Of course, a certain Redguard historian may have had something to do with it . . .@Grits: I know, it's great that Julian is cooperating. But she knows from last year that if I get a plot bunny out of the way, I come back to her story. And she's having as much fun listening to the NNWM story as I am! And oh, boy, does she keep that internal editor in line! I'm glad you enjoyed the banter between Bor and Soren. They were always friends, which is why Burd selected them to go in that Gate with him and Julian. Their shared experiences in that place only served to strengthen their bond, their loyalty to Burd, and their respect for Julian.
@Acadian: Somehow I just knew you would catch the double meaning behind Julian's thoughts about the 'compliment!' Yes, Julian is like most senior NCO's, with a rather cockeyed perspective of officers. On the one hand, it's nice to be mistaken for an officer, but on the other hand, knowing officers as she does, well . . . Thanks for the nit!
@treydog: Thank you for picking up on Julian's sense of responsibility for these 'reinforcements' she has dumped on Burd. Though she did not have any input at all on who was sent, she still believes that if not for her, Burd wouldn't have these additional headaches. And yes, it takes a while for Sai to feel comfortable among soldiers. You'll see in the next post that not all guards are the same.
@Olen: It's funny that you should mention mages, because that is where we're going next!
@TK: You're right about how Julian will whip those lazy lay-abouts into shape. But you'll have to wait. I'm glad you found Miscarcand nail-biting. It was one of the scariest parts of the whole MQ, and quite possibly the entire game.
@McB: Welcome to OHDH! I hope you continue to enjoy this story as it heads slowly toward its inevitable conclusion.
Now Julian has returned to Bruma, she pays a visit to the Bruma chapter of the Mages Guild.
*******************
Chapter 29.2: Warming Up at the Mages Guild
Frasoric greeted me with her usual fizzling magic and indomitable optimism. “Why, good afternoon, Associate! I heard you’ve completed all the recommendations! Congratulations!”
“Thank you,” I murmured, gesturing Sai to hold as another cloud of emerald sizzled between the chapter head and me.
“Have you gone to the University yet?” Frasoric wouldn’t let me continue. “Isn’t it wonderful?” She stood a little taller on her tiptoes for a moment before sinking her heels back to the floor.
“I haven’t, yet,” I responded when she paused for breath. “I’ve had a few other tasks to attend to.” Like recover Tiber Septim’s armor, and that Great Welkynd stone in my bags. “I stopped in to speak to Orania, if she’s available?”
“Of course!” Frasoric waved toward the alchemist’s office, just behind the counter. “But Cirroc’s with her. A consultation, I believe.” Her gaze fell on Sai. “Oh, have you been practicing your conjuring? But I didn’t know there was a spell for that!” Envy tinged her tone.
“Umm, no,” I shook my head at the woman’s single-mindedness. “He’s flesh and blood, like you and me. This is Sai the Lucky, and he’s kind of made himself my friend.” I brushed his ears lightly with my fingertips as I looked down at him. He met my gaze swiftly, then returned his attention to another conjuration failure.
“Oh, but you could have fooled me!” Now relief flooded her voice. Was she jealous when she thought I could conjure up a dog? What’s there to be jealous about? Oh, that’s right, she can’t even whistle up a scamp! “With those blue eyes of his, I was convinced he was from the Void!”
“More like a bandit camp,” I remarked dryly. “I’ll peek in and let Orania and Cirroc know I’d like to speak to them.” I suited my actions to my words, signaling Sai to stay close to my side.
“Very well!” Frasoric turned away from me in tacit dismissal, continuing her practice, which had never ceased during our conversation. Is that why you can’t conjure a scamp to save your life? I put the thought aside. Battlemages can swing a sword and cast spells simultaneously, why can’t Frasoric talk and conjure at the same time? It must be in how she practices. Wonder if magic uses muscle memory, much the same way that swordfighting does. If so, she must have skipped the basic focusing drills. Trying to do too much too soon?
In the alchemist’s office, Orania and Cirroc stood over her work counter, heads together in murmured conversation. The pungent scent of crushed wormwood leaves filled the room as Orania’s hands worked independently of her voice.
Sai lifted his nose and sniffed loudly, then whined. Cirroc, his back to the door, glanced around. His dark eyes lit up when he recognized me. “Julian!”
“I’d like to speak to both of you,” I paused in the doorway. “But I can wait until you’re free.”
“No, no, come in!” Orania smiled warmly at me. “And I see you have a new companion, as well,” her gaze dropped to Sai.
“Yes, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” I stepped into the room. Cirroc cleared a pile of workbooks off the stool next to him. He glanced at me again as he straightened up.
“The dog?” He held his hand out toward Sai, who approached slowly and sniffed curiously, his tail waving slowly.
Orania set her mortar and pestle down and rinsed her hands in a nearby bowl, drying them on a small towel. She rounded the counter and stopped beside Cirroc, her gaze on Sai.
“He looks well enough,” she commented, kneeling down. Sai sniffed at her hands, then licked her face in a friendly greeting. She stroked his thick ruff. “How can a healer and an alchemist help you with this dog?”
“You can explain something to me,” I answered, meeting Orania’s gaze as she looked up over Sai’s pointed ears. “I found him in a bandit camp. He had been injured when the bandits were attacking a Legion rider.” I pointed at the bald patch over his right shoulder. “Open fracture of the - um - humerus?”
It was Cirroc’s turn to kneel beside Sai. After a friendly ruffle of his ears, Cirroc moved his hands down to the healed scar, much as I had on that rainy afternoon. “Yes, the humerus,” he nodded after a palpation of the area. “I see the hair’s beginning to grow back.” He glanced up at me. “What about it?”
“That was a little over a week ago,” I continued. Both healer and alchemist regarded the shoulder, then me. “I used my Convalescence spell and what Cirroc had taught me about battlefield wounds.”
“I didn’t see him limping, Julian,” Orania ran her hand down Sai’s back and rose to her feet, brushing her palms together. Dark brown hair drifted in the golden lamplight as she crossed to a bubbling alembic at the rear of the room. “Tea to warm you up?” At my nod, she began pouring the simmering amber fluid into a glass beaker. I hope that’s clean.
Cirroc gave the healed area a final examination, then rose to his feet and returned to his stool. “Looks like you did a fine job of it, Julian.”
“So there isn’t any difference between healing an animal and healing a human or mer?” I accepted the steaming cup as Orania resumed her place at the mortar and pestle. It had been something that had been bothering me for some time. Why do chapel healers refuse to heal animals? Why is Marz the exception to the rule? Why is it left up to owners to heal their own livestock? Not everyone has the knowledge that trained healers have.
“There’s a few anatomical differences between humans, mer and animals,” Cirroc shrugged. “But those differences come into play largely in surgery, and in your choice of potions.”
“For example,” Orania added, “there are some plants that are toxic for cats, as well as Khajiit, but are well-tolerated by other species. And everyone knows of the Argonian resistance to poisons.”
Cirroc was nodding. “So you healed this dog of a traumatic injury. Really, when it comes down to it, trauma is trauma, and healing proceeds in the same manner regardless of the species.” His eyes narrowed at me. “But that’s not what is bothering you.”
I took a sip of the tea, wondering how to frame my question without causing offense. The mildly astringent taste gave me the courage to proceed. “Why don’t Chapel healers and Guild alchemists heal animals too?”
Cirroc’s eyebrows rose, and Orania’s hands paused in their grinding. “What?” Cirroc leaned his elbow on the counter. “Where did you get such an idea?”
“Get that - that thing out of here!” the Imperial woman seized me by the shoulders and pushed me toward the tall double doors. “How dare you defile the Chapel of Dibella with such filth!”
“But he’s hurt and needs help!” My nine-year old body resisted the Chapel healer’s physical urgings. The bedraggled creature clutched in my arms did not move in spite of our wrestling movements.
“It’s just a cat!” Somehow Lucilla Piconaea had managed to steer me to the carved wooden panels. With one claw on my left shoulder, she wrestled the door open far enough to push me out into the downpour. “And don’t think about going to Felen Relas at the Mages Guild! He’ll capture that cat’s soul in one of those evil gems!” The heavy door slammed shut with a deadly finality.
“He’s not just a cat!” Tears mingled with the cold rain on the black-and-white blood-splattered fur. “He’s Cao! He keeps the mice out of Mother’s garden! You can’t let him die!”
Those tears turned my voice ragged as I briefly told them about the little mouser who had appeared on Mother’s doorstep one cold winter evening and adopted us as his family. “He died before I could get him home to Mother.”
“And this Lucilla Piconaea told you Chapel healers do not tend to animals?” The suppressed fury in Cirroc’s tone drew both my and Sai’s eyes to him.
“I never questioned that,” I admitted, thinking back to my surprise when Frederick had mentioned Marz’s fondness for creatures. “Not until Marz in Bravil helped me heal Paint.”
“And it didn’t occur to you to ask why Marz would heal Paint after thinking for years it was forbidden?” Cirroc shook his head. “The decision to heal animals, or not, lies with the individual healer. Some do, some don’t.”
“Do you?” I held my gaze steady on the Bruma healer’s dark eyes.
“Of course!” Cirroc nodded emphatically. “Especially if it’s a black and white mouser in the arms of a heartbroken little girl.” He reached down to gently stroke Sai’s ears. “Or a Skyrim Husky mix at the side of a battle-hardened warrior.” His smile gleamed at me. “Not that Sai needs anything from me. You’ve done an admirable job of healing him.”
“I’ve been with the Guild for seventeen years,” Orania declared, scraping the macerated remains of the motherwort out of her pestle into a calcinator. “I can not recall there ever being a proscription against treating animals there, either. And my potions are for animal use as well as human, mer, or tailed folk.”
“Good,” I sighed with sudden relief. “Because I used all of your extra-strength healing potions on Sai.”
“I thought you healed that leg with just your Convalescence spell?” Orania added something else to the calcinator, something I could not recognize.
“I did,” I took another sip of the tea. “But he insisted on accompanying me into - a dangerous situation, and got himself banged up on more than one occasion.” Fondly I ruffled the scruff of Sai’s neck as he leaned happily against my leg. “He wouldn’t let me face those goblins by myself.”
“He’s not military trained?” Cirroc exclaimed. “But I saw you using those Legion signals with him, I assumed -“
“He knows some, but not all,” I thought back over the trip from Skingrad to Bruma. “He knows stay, quiet, come. But he doesn’t know take cover, go there, or some of the others I’ve watched Legio Ten use with their war dogs.” I shook my head. “And I’m not sure how to train him to those signals.” Playfully I rapped my knuckles gently on his skull between those prick ears. “Nor do I know if he can be trained!”
“I see I had better teach you what’s safe to use for cats and Khajiiti, then,” Orania chuckled as she refilled her own beaker with the tea. “Never know when you might encounter a cat to rescue!”
Frasoric is hilarious. I forgot about the little up on the tiptoes mannerism that you gave her. How funny that she thought Sai was a summoning, and how fitting for her!
Dark brown hair drifted in the golden lamplight as she crossed to a bubbling alembic at the rear of the room. “Tea to warm you up?” At my nod, she began pouring the simmering amber fluid into a glass beaker. I hope that’s clean.
I like this even more. Memories of college and borrowed beakers in the kitchen.
What a touching story about little Cao, and an interesting veterinary discussion that followed. Do I see another LBMQ career opportunity for Julian?
Dark brown hair drifted in the golden lamplight as she crossed to a bubbling alembic at the rear of the room. “Tea to warm you up?” At my nod, she began pouring the simmering amber fluid into a glass beaker. I hope that’s clean.
I like this even more. Memories of college and borrowed beakers in the kitchen.
What a touching story about little Cao, and an interesting veterinary discussion that followed. Do I see another LBMQ career opportunity for Julian?
I agree with Grits, the tipy-toes was a wonderful little addition, that just seems so suited for the ditzy chapter head. Likewise mistaking Sai for a conjuring!
The pungent scent of crushed wormwood leaves filled the room as Orania’s hands worked independently of her voice.
Right on the heels of Julian's musings about Frasoric's failures, this really stood out. It is nice to know at at least someone in the Bruma guild is competent. And how perfect of her to warm her tea in an alembic!
He’ll capture that cat’s soul in one of those evil gems!
Those Dunmer are wicked and profane like that...
Finally an eye-opening and once again past-revealing discussion concerning healing animals. It is too bad Teresa had not been around when Julian was younger. She would have healed her cat!
The pungent scent of crushed wormwood leaves filled the room as Orania’s hands worked independently of her voice.
Right on the heels of Julian's musings about Frasoric's failures, this really stood out. It is nice to know at at least someone in the Bruma guild is competent. And how perfect of her to warm her tea in an alembic!
He’ll capture that cat’s soul in one of those evil gems!
Those Dunmer are wicked and profane like that...
Finally an eye-opening and once again past-revealing discussion concerning healing animals. It is too bad Teresa had not been around when Julian was younger. She would have healed her cat!
What a delightful episode! I like Jeanne and you do such a wonderful job of capturing her.
The scene with Cirroc and Orania was great as well. And another effective use of a poignant flashback.
“Of course!” Cirroc nodded emphatically. “Especially if it’s a black and white mouser in the arms of a heartbroken little girl.”
Testimony to your build up here, this made my heart swell.
And a perfect ending, gently reminding us of Julian’s tendency to rescue every stray cat that she encounters!
The scene with Cirroc and Orania was great as well. And another effective use of a poignant flashback.
“Of course!” Cirroc nodded emphatically. “Especially if it’s a black and white mouser in the arms of a heartbroken little girl.”
Testimony to your build up here, this made my heart swell.
And a perfect ending, gently reminding us of Julian’s tendency to rescue every stray cat that she encounters!
I chuckled throughout the part with Frasoric, she seems like she is just happy to be happy, and I too enjoyed the tip-toe thing.
The rest with Orania and Cirroc was more wonderful insight into who Julian is and how she thinks, what is important to her. There are just some of us who can't help picking up every stray we come across. I really shouldn't have harassed Trey so much about his "stray" cat, I now have another canine at my house.....Sadie was abandoned and I just couldn't leave her where she was.
A quote that I remember from childhood went something like this "Be careful of the words you speak you never know which ones you'll eat"
BUT BUT She's a good dog!!!!!!
The rest with Orania and Cirroc was more wonderful insight into who Julian is and how she thinks, what is important to her. There are just some of us who can't help picking up every stray we come across. I really shouldn't have harassed Trey so much about his "stray" cat, I now have another canine at my house.....Sadie was abandoned and I just couldn't leave her where she was.
A quote that I remember from childhood went something like this "Be careful of the words you speak you never know which ones you'll eat"
BUT BUT She's a good dog!!!!!!
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