YAY!!... ...

Food, The Blades and cute puppy dogs...What more could a chap want?... ...Awwww, is so cuuute!!... ...

Loved the whole thing...

The dining ambiance was brilliantly done...The discussion over eating was brilliant...And all the time, the dog...The wonderful dog...Awwww, *tickles behind the ears*...Oh...Sorry...

Aaaamywho...

Brilliant return...Well done...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

Welcome back! I’m so pleased to see you continuing Julian’s adventure. No doubt you knew I would be starving by now, and the beef stew with bread was divine!

I see Captain Steffan has won Sai’s heart. Perhaps if he similarly offered a few savory morsels of stew to Julian. . . well, who knows? Seriously though, Steffan’s obvious affection for dogs speaks highly of him.

A good review of recent events, including the bandit run in and Sai’s background. Even a nice mention of the White Witch Horse.

Like SubRosa, I enjoyed the observation that Julian would indeed make a fine liaison between Legion and Blades! And as Grits said, what a warm and wonderful return to CRT.

Haute is BACK!!! YAY!!! I missed Julian...sniff.

I really liked her return to CRT, it was as wonderful as opening the forum and seeing that H.E.R. had returned to Chorrol

This was a wonderful write, I liked the way Sai was treated by Steffan, makes me like him more too. This was a nice way to return for her, even the debrief wasn't bad for her. I am really looking forward to seeing where she goes from here and what happens with Martin and the gang.

Welcome back Haute, you were missed very much.

@Grits: Thanks for the warm welcome back for both me and Julian! We appreciate it! I've always felt that dogs make better judges of human character, and have always relied on dogs (and cats) when it comes to assessing a stranger. I wouldn't date a man my cat didn't like! As my current cat is so darned picky, I'm good! Julian suggests that I send you my recipe for my beef stew (the best darned one evah!).

@Olen: Thanks for your ongoing endorsement of my use of the animals as characters. After years of working as a veterinarian, I have seen way too many different personalities in animals! I don't even bother keeping them out of my stories. It's true what they say - never act with children and animals - they steal all the limelight!

@ghastley: I'll try to keep up the food and animal companionship factor around here! As for your criticism, I considered editing it, but decided to leave it as is since it is dialogue, not narrative.

@SubRosa: I had to laugh at your sly reference to Julian's former debriefing style! As for the liaison, I can't think of anyone that would fill that role either!

@McBadgere: Both Presley (the real life dog next door) and Sai have a knack for bringing a smile to my face whenever I see (or write) about them. I'm glad to see they have the same effect on you!

@Acadian: Indeed, I wonder if Steffan had shared his beef stew with Julian? I imagine he figured a better way to her heart is through her animal companions such as Sai and Blanco. This chapter has served to refresh my own memory as much as it has to re-introduce Julian to the forum. I'm so sorry to leave you starving in the cold for so long :-(

@Athynae: I'm still kicking Julian for not paying attention to how much Sai cottoned onto Steffan already! But she'll notice - eventually - and accept the inevitable - even more eventually! Thanks very much for the welcome back.

There are a few more stories on this forum that I want to catch up on, so my posting frequency may be erratic at best. I am still enrolled in the MBA course and working part-time at the Apple Store (and having tooooooo much fun)! Hopefully I'll get my new MacBook Pro soon so I can start writing more once again. But I continue to plug on.

The story so far: Julian has come home and filled her (and Sai's) belly with the excellent CRT fare. She is anxious to learn what is next in store for her, but Martin and Jauffre insist she eat and rest first.

*************************
Chapter 29.9 The Fourth Element

As I finished the Way of the Crane beneath a grey overcast, Captain Steffan stepped out onto the portico. A dark blue wool cap covered his close-cropped hair, and his helm gleamed from beneath his left arm as he surveyed the courtyard below. Sai bounded to his feet where he had been reclining out of my way and waved his tail gaily as he trotted up to the tall officer. The Captain’s blue eyes flashed in my direction, and he nodded a greeting at me before he bent down to ruffle Sai’s ears with his free hand. His breath misted in the cold air as he murmured something to the dog.

Something twinged uncomfortably beneath my breastbone when Steffan chuckled at Sai’s rambunctious reception of his greeting. What is that? I’m jealous of a dog? I shook my head. Never mind, Julian, I reminded myself. He’s just my commanding officer, nothing more. He certainly doesn’t have Sai under his command! Of course he can be informal with the dog!

Captain Steffan slid his helm on over his wool cap and buckled it beneath his chin before striding along the portico to where I stood next to the roaring brazier. “Good morning, Julian,” he greeted me, his teeth gleaming within the shadows of the enameled metal. “Are you caught up on your sleep yet?”

“Yes, sir, thank you.” I nodded. “It was good to sleep among comrades again!”

The Captain’s brows disappeared beneath the visor. “And the mages at the Skingrad chapter house don’t count as comrades?”

I drew an indignant breath before I caught the humorous sparkle in those impossibly azure eyes. A chuckle escaped my lips as I shook my head. “Skingrad? That place is full of dilettantes!” I reached down for Sai’s ears, for he had returned to my side now that I was done with my morning exercises. “But the mages of Bravil, or Anvil, I do consider to be my friends, perhaps even my comrades.”

“They’re a bit more like the Legion?” Steffan asked as I reached for my brown cloak hanging near the brazier. I wrapped it around my body before I met the Captain’s gaze.

“A bit,” I shrugged. “I’m still comparing civilians to the Legion, I suppose.”

“You’ve spent half your life among soldiers,” Steffan reminded me. “It’s difficult not to compare others to those you’ve lived with, fought with, and lost in combat. That’s probably why you fit in so well among us Blades.” His eyes grew dark. “We’re glad to have you among us in these dark days. May we all live to see the Dragonfires lit again.”

Stunned by the sudden turn in the conversation, I could think of nothing to say. Steffan turned back to the courtyard with a deep breath. “You’d better speak to the Emperor after you’ve had breakfast.” He slid a sidelong glance at me. “Wouldn’t want to keep him waiting.” Before I could respond, he stepped down to the courtyard to begin his rounds.

************************
As the Captain had indicated, Martin was waiting for me when I entered the Hall of Blades, my belly full with yet another of Cloud Ruler’s memorable meals. Sai paced alongside me as I approached the study table. With a smile and a wave, Martin indicated the bench opposite him, setting a pile of books aside so we could see each other.

“Are you ready for the next stage, Julian?” he asked when I had settled on the hard seat, his hazel eyes somber. I took a deep breath and nodded. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. “I’ve had time to consider what I’ve asked of you so far,” he said quietly, his gaze on the pages of the open book between us. “Find the Amulet of Kings. Locate a Daedric artifact. Fetch Tiber Septim’s armor and put his Blades to eternal rest. Face your terrors in the depths of Miscarcand.” His hazel eyes locked with mine. “Did you imagine I wouldn’t suspect your fear of goblins?”

I swallowed some spit back into my mouth. “I never told anyone, Sire —“

“No, you didn’t,” he shook his head. “But I know of your experience with goblin hunting in the Legion, and I know of your last combat assignment. I suspect you joined the Legion so you could hunt down the goblins that killed your family.” He held up a hand to stop my response. “Don’t say a word, Julian. Your motives were understandable.”

I couldn’t help but hang my head. “It was more than just that, Sire,” I whispered, smarting again at the thought of Jared’s betrayal. “But yes, I took advantage of every opportunity to hunt goblins because of my family.” Seated on the floor beside me, Sai looked up into my face and pawed my thigh anxiously. I smiled at him and ruffled his ears reassuringly.

Martin waited as I lifted my gaze back to him. “Remember when we spoke of the elements you needed for the ritual, Sire?” His brows lifted slightly at my question.

“Yes, I do, Julian,” he answered slowly.

“So far we have three,” I nodded at the arcane circle beyond Martin. “The Blood of a Daedra, the Blood of a Divine, and the Great Welkynd Stone. What is the fourth one, Sire?”

Martin’s eyes grew somber and he leaned back slightly. “Rituals such as these rely on balance,” his voice took on a quiet tone of a lecture. “In order to alter the fabric of Mundus, as this ritual is meant to do, a balance between the forces of the Aedra and the forces of the Daedra is required. Mundus is the result of this equilibrium, and to create a new world in its place requires maintaining that balance.”

He paused, his hazel gaze steady on mine. My mind considered his words. “The blood of a Daedra is balanced by the blood of a Divine. But what is the counterpart to the Great Welkynd Stone?” It suddenly became clear to me when Martin lowered his eyes to the open volume in front of him. No. No more Gates. I’m through with them. Again Sai, as attuned to my emotions as ever, pawed my leg gently with a soft whine.

I rose to my feet and moved to the chalk outline on the floor before the great hearth. I recognized a symbol of a staff, and a pictograph of the emblem inlaid into Tiber Septim’s armor drawn into the design opposite each other. The Great Welkynd Stone’s place was marked by one of the smaller Welkynd stones halfway between the other two. The artifacts themselves must be held someplace safe for the time being.

Martin didn’t speak as he watched me trace the design with my strides. But if I don’t do it, who will? Who knows the Deadlands as well as I do? “I take it it’s not just any sigil stone you seek, Sire,” I said finally, turning to face him. I noticed that Sai had followed me only as far as the outer edge of the arcane circle. My gaze moved from his blue eyes to Martin’s hazel ones.

“No, Julian, it’s not just any stone,” he shook his head sadly. “Else I would have asked you to provide one of the several you’ve recovered over the past several months.”

My thoughts returned to Kvatch, to the immense Gate I had confronted there, and the aliveness of the stone I had recovered. “You seek the sigil stone from a Great Gate,” I said finally.

“And the Mythic Dawn continues seeking to open one such Gate before Bruma,” Martin added. With a sigh, he pushed himself away from the table and moved to stand beside me. Together we faced the empty gap in the edge of the circle, the gap that awaited the Great Sigil Stone.

That now-familiar coiling in my belly gave me the courage to say the words. “And we let them open that Great Gate?” Silently Martin nodded.

Again only the fire spoke into the quiet Hall of Blades. I lifted my gaze from the chalked lines to the rows of ancient katanas shimmering among the rafters above us. Captain Renault. Glenroy. They gave their lives willingly for Emperor Uriel. Beside their blades hung three more, two of them gleaming with their own enchantments. Rielus. Casnar. Alain. I touched the weapon hanging at my left hip. Valdemar. They never hesitated when they were sent to Sancre Tor. I can’t let them down. I can’t let Martin down. I can’t let his father down.

Martin turned to face me. “I can’t ask you to go into one more Gate, Julian,” he said. “Let alone a Great Gate. Time will be short once it opens - we can not let that siege engine through.” He took a deep breath. “But I can’t think of who is better suited . . .”

“I’ll do it.” The words stepped decisively out of my mouth, much as similar ones had on the mesa before Kvatch. Unlike Matius’s skepticism which reflected mine before my first Oblivion Gate, this declaration met only relief from Martin. I shook off the memory and focused on my Emperor. “Not because I want to, not because I’m some Hero, but because it has to be done, Sire.”

Martin nodded. “And it has to succeed. I hate to say it, Julian, but you’re our best chance of that success.”

I see that Sai has definitely warmed up to Cap Steffan. It seems that a hearty dinner went a long way to making him feel comfortable around all the soldiers. I really loved Julian's little twinge of jealousy over the way Sai got more up close and personal attention than she does from the Captain. Very real, and a wonderful little way to remind us readers who has caught Julian's heart.

“And the mages at the Skingrad chapter house don’t count as comrades?”
Only if you are a Swinger!

“Not because I want to, not because I’m some Hero,
Hey, that's Teresa who is not a hero!

And now we come down to it. I love how you gradually led up to the revelation of what the fourth item Martin needed was, walking us up to it as Julian put the pieces together for herself. I also thought her rumination over the deaths of Renault, Glenroy, and of course the Fab Four from Sancre Tor was well done. It crystallizes Julian's motivations so clearly.

So now it is time to roll the hard six. I always loved this part of the main quest, for the very idea. Encourage your enemy to deploy its greatest weapon, so that you can use it against them.

‘What is that? I’m jealous of a dog?’
‘…before I caught the humorous sparkle in those impossibly azure eyes.’
Nope. Julian’s not smitten. Nosiree. Not one bit.

‘my belly full with yet another of Cloud Ruler’s memorable meals.’
You always provide the best chow!

“Find the Amulet of Kings. Locate a Daedric artifact. Fetch Tiber Septim’s armor and put his Blades to eternal rest. Face your terrors in the depths of Miscarcand.” His hazel eyes locked with mine. “Did you imagine I wouldn’t suspect your fear of goblins?”
“So far we have three,” I nodded at the arcane circle beyond Martin. “The Blood of a Daedra, the Blood of a Divine, and the Great Welkynd Stone. What is the fourth one, Sire?”
These two quotes above, along with reference to the Hall of Blades, serve as a wonderfully natural continuation of your review to remind us of where Julian has been and why.

I love the way you used Martin’s words of balance to let Julian work her way to the horrifying discovery of what fourth element is required. I could feel her emotion and weariness as she thought: No. No more gates. Then she reaches a powerful decision – the only one our Julian could make: “I’ll do it.”

I’m fired up. Ready to howl at the moons and kick some Daedra butt!

I'm still trying to work out whether No more Gates is a complaint or a hope. Or just the slogan for the anti-Dawn movement.

Everybody chant now!

No more Gates! No more Gates! ...

We need to get everyone on board, so it's easier to collect Allies.

Absolutely amazing stuff...Loving the way you bring Cloud Ruler to life...

I just wish that Bethesda had made the place seem more of a Bastion than the tiny place it is in game...

Aaamywho...Brilliantly done, brilliant writing...

This bit...



Was shiver-inducingly brilliant...So well done that...Loved it...

More please...Whenever you can... ...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

Beef stew recipe, oh yes, please! Julian has the best ideas.


Nice to see Captain Steffan’s sense of humor!


Ha! If Julian is jealous of her dog, I hope she knows that Steffan is jealous of the Emperor!

I love that Julian was a partner in the Great Gate discussion, rather than just being told what to do.


As McB said, this part made me shiver. Possibly my favorite moment in the story so far. After the discussion of the Legion, comrades, and mages, Julian counts herself among the Blades.

@SubRosa: I too thought it was funny that Julian felt a twinge of jealousy over the dog! Of course, she didn't! I always felt this part of the game fell short of my expectations, considering the buildup to it. I thought long and hard about how I am going to write this part of the MQ - nearly five months! I'm glad that you are liking this segue into the Bruma Defense quest.

@Acadian: Thanks for your endorsement of how Julian figures out the fourth element. I always felt the way the quest was written is fine for some knuckleheaded berserker but not for the sharp mind that is our white-haired primus pilus.

@ghastley: Your idea of a rallying cry brought a big grin to this Mac-lover's face. It brought me back to the days when Microsoft was the Great Evil Empire and the few and the proud Mac users were the last of the Jedi. Umm, no, wrong story. Forget it.

@McB: That passage you quoted is actually one of my favorites, since it is part of an ongoing homage to one of my favorite fan fics out there. I hope you're reading this Destri! I thought it particularly fitting that she is carrying Valdemar's katana, though we now know it as her enchanted Akatosh's Touch. And I wanted to point out that now we have come full circle from Emperor Uriel to Emperor Martin, though he is not yet confirmed. But in the minds and hearts of Julian and the Blades, there is no other Emperor.

@Grits: I'm delighted that you picked up on that little undercurrent in Steffan's comment of the Emperor. We'll see just how right you are - eventually! Oh, and I will PM you that recipe! Enjoy!


The story so far: Julian has just learned to her dismay that the fourth element needed for the ritual to recover the Amulet of Kings is a Great Sigil Stone - the counterpart to the Great Welkynd Stone. Why couldn't it all be as easy as getting the Wabbajack?

**********************
Chapter 30.1 The Countess of Bruma

“Thank you, Julian, for coming with me,” Grandmaster Jauffre turned to me when we paused outside the entrance to the County Hall. “You now have more experience speaking to Counts and Countesses than I have.” The twinkle in his blue gaze contrasted with the grim set of his weathered features.

“I doubt that, sir,” I answered out of the side of my mouth as the doors opened before us. “You have - ahem - years on me, Grandmaster.”

Jauffre chuckled silently as we entered the sooty interior. “Yet you’ve managed to accomplish more in the past few months than I have in my entire career.”

Beside me Sai paced alertly along the worn carpet. I lowered my hands to his ears in a gesture of reassurance, but he didn’t seem to pay mind. “I hope the Countess doesn’t mind a dog coming to this audience,” I remarked, thinking of the woman seated on the county throne at Leyawiin. Now that one would be offended!

“You’ll find Narina Carvain to be sensible, practical, and very, very tough,” Jauffre shot a glance past me at my companion. “She has more important things on her mind.”

“Like how to feed all these reinforcements?” I suggested. Jauffre’s response was a noncommittal grunt.

A Nord man, oozing dignity from every pore, approached us. “Good morning, Grandmaster Jauffre.” His calm gaze flickered over me and my companion. “Welcome, Julian of Anvil,” he greeted me. “Countess Carvain will be happy to finally meet you.”

“The Countess may not be so happy after she hears what we have to say, Tolgan,” Jauffre responded. “This may best be done in private.”

“Very well,” the steward bowed to us. “Wait here, then.” He turned and faded into the shadows lining the audience chamber. Jauffre turned to me, his face even more aged than ever.

“It will be difficult to convince the Countess of the Emperor’s plan, Julian,” he said quietly.

“It was difficult to convince you, Grandmaster,” I reminded him. “What made you see the necessity of Bruma’s risk?”

“The fact that I could see no other way,” Jauffre growled. “But that doesn’t mean the Countess won’t try to think of an alternative.”

“You understand that we don’t have much time,” I turned my gaze down to Sai. He watched the movements in the shadows alertly, without alarm. “That’s what we need to make the Countess understand. Bruma, and the Empire, can’t hold on forever.”

Jauffre considered me silently for several moments. “I have a bad feeling about you, Julian,” he said finally.

Alarmed, I met his gaze. “What?”

“The Blades are going to lose you,” his tone turned quiet. “You’re so much more than any of us could ever be.”

Relieved, I shook my head. “I have no intention of leaving the Blades under my own volition.” I smiled in a weak attempt to lighten the grim mood. “After all, it’s like being home again.”

“When you think of the Legion as home,” Jauffre countered. “But that’s the easy way out. And that is not your style. Yes, you’ve been invaluable to us. But I think our new Emperor will soon ask more of you than a Blade - even an agent - can provide.” He turned his face away from me. “You can not stay in the Blades forever. You must not.”

I struggled to keep my feet against the sudden wave of dread that swept through me. “Are you going to kick me out of the Blades, Grandmaster?” I whispered.

“The way the Legion kicked you out when you lost your leg?” Jauffre’s scoffing response did little to ease my tension. “No, we’ll not discard you like that,” he shook his head firmly. “The decision to leave the Blades will not lie with me, or with Captain Steffan or Dragonguard Baurus. No, that decision will be entirely yours, Julian.”

“Then you’re stuck with me until I die,” my tone remained shaken. “I’m making no such decision.”

The smile didn’t quite reach Jauffre’s gaze. “There will come a time when you will agree, Julian,” his tone held a soft implacability. “At that time, Talos willing I’m still alive to see it, I will tell you ‘I told you so.’”

“As much as I admire and respect you, Grandmaster,” I shook my head. “But I have to assure you that you’ll never get such a chance.”

Again Jauffre’s smile flickered over his worn features. “We’ll see,” he murmured.

Tolgan reappeared from the shadows and paused a respectful distance away. “The Countess will see you now, sir, ma’am.” He bowed to us. “If you will follow me.”

He led us, not to the high dais at the head of the audience chamber where the throne rested, but to the southern side of the room. We passed into a small room lit by braziers. The air was not as stuffy as would be expected, and I glanced up to see the smoke disappearing through a round hole in the peak of the vaulted ceiling. Ventilation system. Not adequate enough for the County Hall, but perfectly suitable for smaller rooms.

Tolgan led us to a pair of chairs seated side by side before the small hearth. Another, slightly more ornate chair occupied the spot directly opposite the round yellow rug emblazoned with the brown Jerall falcon. “Would you like refreshments? Klah? Wine?”

I followed Jauffre’s lead and refused the offer. Before I sat down, I directed Sai to lie down beside the chairs. At the stay signal, he dropped his head to his paws. Captain Steffan is right - he is quick to learn. Maybe there is hope yet for this one!

Just as we had settled our katanas and our behinds in the two chairs, a woman entered the room. Clad in a shimmering waterfall of blue silks highlighted by sunlit gold trim, her bearing left no doubt in my mind that this was the Countess Bruma.

As Narina Carvain approached the third chair, she shook her head at our efforts to rise. “No, please remain at ease, Grandmaster,” she seated herself gracefully. Her gaze flickered over the prone form of Sai at my side. While she settled into the high back of her chair, the Countess glanced at me. “As always, I am grateful for your advice and help, Grandmaster. And now you bring me someone I’ve always wanted to meet.”

Jauffre glanced tacit permission at me to speak first. I inclined my head and shoulders in the Countess’s direction. “I am honored to meet you, Countess Carvain,” I murmured. “I do wish we could meet under happier circumstances.”

“As do I,” Countess Carvain’s voice maintained its cool friendliness. “These are difficult times, indeed. However I greatly appreciate the efforts you have undertaken to bring so many reinforcements to Bruma.”

“You have very capable guardsmen, madame,” I matched her tone. “Yet there are only so many of them.”

“And I understand the reinforcements are only to buy time,” Carvain inclined her head in graceful agreement. She turned to Jauffre. “So, Grandmaster, what news do you bring me from Cloud Ruler Temple?”

“A son of Emperor Uriel yet lives, madame,” Jauffre spoke directly. “And he is at Cloud Ruler Temple, under the protection of the Blades.”

“A son?” Carvain’s elegantly arched brows rose above wide brown eyes. “But all three -” Her voice trailed off as her thoughts caught up to her mouth. “Ah, this one is not one of Empress Varian’s get?” She took our silence as an affirmative and nodded to herself. “Yes,” she whispered softly, “he would seek solace elsewhere, being married to that harridan!” I glanced at Jauffre, who kept his face impassive.

Carvain returned to the present with her cool briskness. “That is good news, then,” she met Jauffre’s gaze. “Then he will be able to relight the Dragonfires and end this nightmare for all of Cyrodiil?”

“There is one thing he must do before then, madame,” Jauffre answered. He gestured toward me. “In addition to gathering reinforcements for you, Julian of Anvil has also been assisting Emperor Uriel’s son in his studies concerning the origins of this crisis. There is one more thing she must obtain for him.” He stopped, his jaw clenching.

Carvain regarded him for a moment, then turned her calm gaze to me. “And what is it, may I ask?”

I took a deep breath. “A Great Sigil Stone, madame,” I answered. “It holds open a Great Oblivion Gate.”

Silence, broken only by the fire in the hearth and braziers, flowed downward against the updrafted smoke. The Countess turned her gaze to the fireplace. For several breaths we waited as she considered the implications of my statement. Finally she drew a slightly shaky breath and turned back to me.

“Am I correct in thinking that this Great Oblivion Gate you speak of is the same as the one that destroyed the city of Kvatch?”

I swallowed first. “That is correct, madame.”

Another shaky breath was the only betrayal of the dismay the Countess must be feeling at this moment. “And we must allow such a Gate to open before Bruma?”

“Madame,” Jauffre’s quiet tone held a crispness that eased the tension only a bit. “Three lesser Gates must be open to allow a Great Gate to appear.”

“My men and Julian’s reinforcements have been closing those Gates as quickly as they appear,” Carvain nodded. Her face paled. “We must allow three of them to open simultaneously?”

“Yes, madame,” Jauffre answered. “Once the Great Gate is open, those three will close. That is what happened at Kvatch.”

“Total destruction is what happened at Kvatch!” Carvain protested. “Are you seeking such a fate for Bruma?”

“No, we seek salvation for Bruma, and for all of Nirn, madame,” I spoke into the silence that followed. “The irony of this is that such salvation comes at a very high price. It is a risky venture indeed.”

“And who shall go into this - this Great Gate and fetch this Great Sigil Stone?” Carvain’s gaze moved from Jauffre to me.

“This may well be the Gate that kills me,” my voice somehow remained steady. “I am the one who will go in there and recover it. I am sworn to do it.”

Carvain rose and moved to the hearth, lifting her hands to the mantel. Her knuckles whitened as she studied the flames at her feet. “Is there no other way?”

“We can continue as we are, madame,” Jauffre’s tone held conviction. “But frankly, this is a war of attrition. The victor will be the side with the greater resources. We all know that Mehrunes Dagon will win any such war, for his resources far exceed ours.” He paused as Carvain lowered her right hand and looked at us over her shoulder. “We have to change the course of the war - we need to go on the offensive.”

“Madame,” I added when she did not respond, “the man I’m sworn to, Martin Septim, is knowledgable about Daedric magic. I’m just a fighting soldier. If he tells me there is no other way, I have no doubt that he is right.”

“But to risk Bruma like this -” her voice trailed off.

“If the risk pays off, madame,” I answered, “we will be on the road to victory.”

Carvain turned back to the fire. After a moment, her spine straightened. “Very well,” her tone held a sense of finality. “I will place my men under your command, Grandmaster Jauffre.” She turned back to us. “And may Talos go with you, Julian of Anvil. What you seek to do will not be easy.”

“You now have more experience speaking to Counts and Countesses than I have.”
The funny thing is, now this is true!

That was a very somber, and unexpected, conversation between Jauffre and Julian. I know that Julian cannot imagine herself ever wanting to leave. However, as a reader, I have seen the little breadcrumbs you have spread around your tale that point to that happening in a future tale.

The Countess was certainly a delight to read. After meeting so many lesser people holding her position, it is good to see someone who deserves it. I especially liked how she figured out what the implications of obtaining a great sigil stone were. I see that she also knows that sometimes you have to roll the hard six. The Count of Leyawiin would have never agreed to what Jauffre proposed!


nits:
An Nord man, oozing dignity from every pore, approached us.
I suspect the An above is a leftover from a previous edit. I am sure you meant A instead?

“You have - ahem - years on me, Grandmaster.”
Heh, I get the feeling neither of our seasoned warriors are quite ready for Sun City Gweden yet.

“. . . being married to that harridan!”
What a wonderfully descriptive word. It has an appropriately sophisticated/archaic feel, avoids the censor and nails the meaning.

‘Silence, broken only by the fire in the hearth and braziers, flowed downward against the updrafted smoke. The Countess turned her gaze to the fireplace. For several breaths we waited as she considered the implications of my statement. Finally she drew a slightly shaky breath and turned back to me.’
What a great passage, so full of atmosphere and mood – perfect!

“Total destruction is what happened at Kvatch!” Carvain protested. “Are you seeking such a fate for Bruma?”
Fear as she recalls the gate that ate Kvatch is so very understandable by the noble Countess at this point.

I love the way you have painted Countess Bruma for us. Her wisdom and care for her city come through loud and clear.

You are really building some tension here!

Updates

I do hope we see Narina Carvain and Julian in peace time. It would be interesting, both are very practical and fairly shrewd, I think their interactions would make fascinating reading with less shadow of destruction hinging over the world. You showed her dislike of the idea along with her resignation that it had to be somewhere and Bruma was the obvious place, in many ways similar to Julian's feelings about going into the gate - neither likes it but both know it's nessecary.

In the previous part we see another nod to Captain Steffan too, I can see one reason why Julian might leave the blades, or at least the exact position she is in...

Now I suspect we might be in for a battle scene soon.

A most excellent chapter... ...

Loved the Countess, brilliantly done there!...

The discussion between Julian and Jauffre about leaving the Blades...Gorgeous stuff... ...*Lip trembles*...

Loved it muchly...Here's to more!!...*Raises glass*...

Nice one!!..

*Applauds most heartily*...

I like the decision to have more than just one person go to the Countess. It didn't make too much sense to send everyone straight to the chapel to wait for her there. That always struck me as an arrogant assumption that would tick Narina Carvain off completely.

Let's hope Julian isn't too high a level, and cause the gates to spawn really nasty Daedra. I always lose too many comrades during the battle because they don't level up enough to keep up with the player.

“The decision to leave the Blades will not lie with me, or with Captain Steffan or Dragonguard Baurus. No, that decision will be entirely yours, Julian.”

I would have been alarmed by Jauffre’s line of thinking, except that it seems he might think of the Emperor’s Dragonguard as separate from the Blades. After all, the gods showed Emperor Uriel that Julian would be the son’s companion.

Countess Carvain was wonderful, I thought she was just perfect in her scene. She seems shrewd enough to know that a storm was coming as reinforcements showed up at her gates. Still, another Kvatch would be the worst case scenario.

The other thing that struck me in this episode is the high regard that both Jauffre and Countess Carvain show for Julian. In game terms, her fame has grown.

@Sage Rose: I've always liked Countess Carvain the most of all of the upper-class ladies. I agree with you that she seems to be the most competent and Countess-like of all of them. Maybe that's why they gave her the second Great Gate - because she could handle it! In fact, I like her as much as I like Count Skingrad. I'm glad that you enjoyed meeting her finally - it's taken a while for Julian to meet this classy lady. Though in game she is one of the first nobles you meet (thanks to the Pale Pass quest), I couldn't justify Julian encountering such exalted company until fairly late into the MQ. And yes, Julian will want to leave the Blades, for reasons that will soon become evident.

@Acadian: No, neither of our senior warriors are ready for retirement, like most old soldiers I've met! I can kind of see why - soldiering is not the best years of one's life, but it can be the most meaningful. The scene you quoted, where Carvain considers the implications of the Great Gate opening outside her walls, was pretty vivid in my imagination. She let her guard down a little in front of these two old soldiers for two reasons: she was truly frightened by the idea, and she trusted their discretion enough to let them see how badly it scared her. I've always regarded her as an excellent judge of character - look at her choice of Burd as her guard captain.

@Olen: I'm glad you enjoyed both updates. Yes, I'd like to see more interactions between Julian and Carvain in peacetime. At this point, they have much in common as you so clearly point out - both of them know what has to be done, and both of them understand that someone has to make the sacrifice - in this case, Julian and the city of Bruma.

@McB: I felt it was about time to start planting the seeds that the Blades will not be Julian's permanent home. She has fit in so well with them, and feels so comfortable among them, and they with her, that the decision to leave will be that much harder. But like Sage Rose said, I've tried to drop enough breadcrumbs so it won't be a complete shock to our readers (though it is to Julian!). There will be enough shocks in the very near future.

@ghastley: I agree that the way the game has the PC all of a sudden doing Jauffre's job as liaison with Carvain is a bit sloppy. Why should she listen to the PC when the Grandmaster of the Blades has been her advisor in all things related to the Crisis? I doubt you'll see your wish about low-level Daedra come true - after all, this is the hard six, as Sage Rose calls it. But not to worry, in OHDH, the guards and Legionaries are very hardy people indeed.

Grits: I'm sorry for the confusion. I've always considered the Dragonguard as a subsection of the Blades, and Baurus (as sole survivor of Captain Renault's command) as being equal in rank to Steffan. The former is responsible for the Emperor's well-being, while the latter is responsible for providing the heavy muscle in combat and support for the Dragonguard. Sort of like the Marines have a command devoted to the White House while the other guys watch the walls around the country. Both report to Jauffre. Who would succeed as Grandmaster when Jauffre's time is up (when - I'm not saying'!)? That remains to be seen. Logically it would be Steffan as he has more command experience, and Baurus hasn't started rebuilding the Dragonguard yet. It seems you enjoyed reading Carvain as much as I enjoyed writing her. I have a great deal of respect for the lady and I hope it shows! And yes, Julian's fame has grown. After all, Carvain has to know that all of these reinforcements are in her city eating her provisions because Julian sent them there!

My decision to have Jauffre and Julian visit Carvain has paid off, it seems. After months of thinking about this part of the quest and the myriad problems I had with it, I decided to just let it write itself. This next segment just about surprised me, but feels so natural and reminds us of what Julian used to be. I hope all of you enjoy getting to know a certain man-mountain a little better, and seeing more of the relationship between him and Julian.

Oh, and I wrote this segment (and the ones to follow) before I saw War Horse. I watched it just two nights ago and was impressed by how much like Blanco Joey is. Seems I'm not the only one who sees horses as strong characters in their own rights.

*************************

Chapter 30.2 An Old Commander

“Madame! Grandmaster!” Tolgan intercepted us as we returned to the County Hall.

“What is it, Steward?” Carvain had resumed her cool grace.

“A - Out- Outside the gates!” Tolgan could only manage a stammer. Alarm enveloped us as Jauffre and I exchanged glances.

“Spit it out, man,” Jauffre’s crisp tone steadied the shaken Nord.

“A century - a cavalry! And mages!” Tolgan ran out of words.

I stepped forward. “A century of what?”

“Legion! On the Silver Road!” Tolgan’s wide eyes belied the grandeur I knew followed a Legion cavalry century. I glanced at Jauffre again, then we bolted for the great doors leading outside.

It seemed the entire city of Bruma had the same idea as we. Civilians, guardsmen and beggars clogged the snow-spotted streets, all heading for the eastern walls overlooking the Silver Road. Jauffre and I managed to fight our way through the throng to the Eastern Gate.

Sai had the advantage of his smaller size and quicker speed, and beat us to the top of the road where Burd, several of his Guardsmen, and many of the reinforcements gathered. As we caught up to him, I peered ahead into the still-slanting morning light. Coming up from the valley below, I could see the Red Dragon of Legio Six glimmering from numerous standards in the winter sun. Tolgan wasn’t inaccurate. It was a full century of cavalry, along with its pack train that trailed southwards out of sight.

Four scouts cantered up, their sparkling mail subdued by red surcoats. They saluted Burd and Jauffre. The senior scout’s gaze moved to me and settled on my white hair and Kvatch surcoat. “Greetings, sirs!” He acknowledged the senior officers first before turning his spirited bay to face me. “Julian of Anvil,” his voice rang out clearly in the thin air. “Our commander requests a meeting with you. If you will please accompany us?”

“Where is your commander?” I asked, stepping forward and returning the salute.

“Down the valley a ways,” the scout said. “You can ride behind me.”

I glanced to the Wildeye Stables. “I have my own mount, just let me fetch him -”

“Our commander doesn’t like to be kept waiting, ma’am,” the scout warned.

I smiled lopsidedly at him and leaned forward conspiratorially. “Don’t they all?” His grin flashed at my whisper and he settled his restive bay.

I didn’t move but two steps toward the livery stable before Blanco neatly leaped the pole fence and pranced up to me, snorting and blowing. His dark eye as he glanced toward the Legion horses held scorn, as if to say Ha! Let’s see you jump that!

He stopped before me and turned sideways to present the stirrup to me. ”Showoff,” I muttered to him, brushing my hand down his crest before gathering up his reins. Blanco flipped his forelock as I swung up, then bounced toward the scouts, as round between my legs as a sea ball. Sai pranced alongside us, tongue lolling out of his mouth in gleeful abandonment.

A sardonic brow rose beneath the helm’s visor as the senior scout regarded our approach. I knew just what he was thinking - just try and keep up with us on a forced march! It didn’t matter - Blanco had enough stamina to keep up with these Legion horses and more.

Blanco jibbed at the bit when I drew rein before Jauffre. He was smiling, the years falling away from his face for a moment. “Go on, Julian. See what this commander wants with you. I’ll see you later.”

I gave him the Blades salute, then kneed Blanco around his hocks. He was all too glad to show off in front of the Legion bays and executed what felt like a perfect pirouette. I bit my lip to keep from laughing as he pranced after the Legion scout, blithely ignoring the pinned ears from the other horse. Now I understand why Jauffre enjoys riding Red so much!

Once we were safely away, the senior scout eased the reins on his mount. The Legion bay sprang into a ground-covering gallop. Blanco leaped into a bounding canter before I released my hold on his bridle. His strides lengthened beneath me once the pressure to hold back was gone, and he kept up with the faster horse easily.

A glance down to my left side showed Sai wolf-running alongside us, his ears pricked and his blue eyes laughing. Both dog and horse seemed to welcome the opportunity to run freely down the track.

To my surprise, Blanco didn’t slow down as we neared the hairpin turn in the Silver Road, where it folded around a lone pine tree before turning south along the valley floor. Here he passed the scout’s horse with a sideways toss of his head and tipped neatly into the turn. As he straightened out from his heart-stopping lean, I looked ahead alongside the column of cavalry. Off to one side, I spotted the bronze standard and steered Blanco toward it.

The draco, its red silken tubular body fluttering from the bronze dragon’s head, whistled softly in the northern breeze above the heads of the officers clustered around it. I lowered my eyes from the familiar symbol to search the faces of the riders. My hands twitched on the reins as I recognized a massive figure familiar to me from my last years in Legio Six. His raw-boned mount stood with slung hip and cocked hind foot that conveyed equine relaxation.

Blanco slowed to a trot as we approached the command group. Their leader turned from reviewing the passing column and met my gaze. The bay stepped that lazy foot down and swung his long head toward Blanco. My stallion whickered softly at that unprepossessing mount, but apparently something of my awe of his rider rubbed off on Blanco. He came to a smart halt before the taller bay, ears forward and each hoof squarely beneath each corner of his body. Panting loudly, Sai flopped his hindquarters beside Blanco’s front feet.

“Greetings, Julian,” the familiar voice greeted me.

I slapped my right fist against the Kvatch Wolf on my chest. “Greetings, Inspector General.”

Camillus nodded at his junior officers. With murmured words, they set their own mounts into motion into the column. When only the draconarius remained with us, Camillus’s command face disappeared and he smiled at me.

“How on earth does a poor, retired Legion soldier afford such a fine Witchhorse as this?” His voice, though quiet, still held that rumble of distant avalanches. “And that looks like a Skyrim Husky, though the color’s all wrong.”

“Long story, sir,” I answered, somehow failing to keep the smile from my voice. “And how is it that the Inspector General brings a full century of cavalry to Bruma?”

“Long story, Julian,” that voice boomed softly from the rocks around us. “Suffice it to say that I’m bored with playing the wily old Skyrim fox and got to feeling like a snow bear again.”

My brows rose at his words. How could I forget? He’s always been fond of quoting “sly as a fox, and dangerous as a bear.” “And does our primus legate know that you stand here, sir?” I waved my hand at the passing column of bays. “With a full century of cavalry, no less?”

“I never relinquished my command of Legio Six,” Camillus responded. “And let’s, ah, say that Phillida didn’t command me not to bring some part of my legion to Bruma!”

What Phillida doesn’t know doesn’t hurt him, huh? “So what exactly do you hope to accomplish here, sir?” I said. I wanted to know just how much Camillus knew of the situation in this far northern county.

The lanky bay twitched an ear as Camillus breathed deeply. “Julian, I know something big is afoot here. Your refusal of Phillida’s offer to return to the Legion is inconsistent with the pilus prior I used to command.” His glacial blue eyes held mine levelly, though his head stood higher than mine. “The old Julian of Anvil lived for her Legion. Either we’ve let you down, or you’ve found something that supersedes us. I’m curious to see which.”

His words stung. Yes, you did let me down four years ago. But that’s all flown into the Abecean Sea. “So you’ve come here prepared to fight, sir?” I asked instead. He nodded soberly, his eyes still locked with mine. “Daedra and other minions of Mehrunes Dagon?” Again that decisive nod. “Under whose command? Or do you expect to command the battlefield yourself?”

Camillus grinned. “Countess Carvain is a very smart, cunning and sly lady. And her Captain Burd an excellent captain. But you wouldn’t turn the Legion down to follow them. I can only imagine that you have a son of Uriel hidden somewhere in these mountains.” His grin turned feral at the flinch in my gaze. “Ah, you do, don’t you? And he’s everything his sire was, and likely some?”

I turned Blanco north, where the road turned for Bruma. “Why don’t you come with me and find out from whom I take my orders, sir?”

Legio VI? At the gates? Well hot darn! It would be nice if that would happen in the game!

I see Blanco is not going to let himself be outshone by all those new horses. His leap over the fence gave more than a faint smile. Then a horse race! Yep, he is a stallion alright.

I see you went with the later Roman windsock draco standard too. I just love how those things look.

And it is our old friend the inspector general. I wonder if he looks like Danny Kaye? I see the sly old Skyrim fox has figured out there there is still a son of septim laying around. I wonder if he has guessed that is who Julian is taking her orders from now?



nits:
Is it a full legion of cavalry, or just a century? You say a legion at the beginning, then say century toward the end.

Thanks, Sage Rose. You're right, it's a century of cavalry, not a legion. Nit fixed!

Oh wow, the cavalry is here! As much as I relished every little detail of the man-mountain Inspector General, it was Blanco, Sai, and the raw-boned bay who stole the show for me. Just wonderful! Now I hope I’m also really wrong about being worried for Jauffre…

This was perfectly done and certainly among your finest work! It was both inspirational and great fun to read.

The animals always steal the show, and Blanco and Sai did not disappoint here!

What an impressive arrival! A whole century of Legion cavalry. I shared Julian’s wince at Camillus’ question as to whether the Legion had disappointed her. She has not forgotten being cast aside when broken. And I see old Camillus did not get to where he is by being a fool as he easily read Julian’s face and ferreted what he sought right out her.

Oooh, that's just a pretty chapter that is...*Drools*...Oooh I loves that... ...

This...



Was brilliant... ...Just fantastic...

Loved the dog too...Bless it... ...Awwww...*Tickles behind ears*...*Draws hand back sharply, lest it be removed*...

The Legion stuff was amazing!!...Sooo well done...

Kinda liked it...*Sniff*...Y'know...'t's alright...

...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds most heartily*...

Blanco was a lot of fun in this part, very much a character in his own right.

This was a great part, it all flowed together and have a bit of everything. Going from the tension of the meeting with the Countess to a ride where Julian almost had fun and then on to the legion. Definitely a hint of the person she used to be.

And then Camillus from her past, along with a borrowed century of cavalry. This battle is shaping up to be rather dramatic. As every great stuff.

@Sage Rose: Yup, ol' Camillus is a sly one indeed. He didn't rise to the rank of Inspector General on the merits of his mountainous size nor his mountainous voice, but rather for his sheer intelligence (and the ability to use intelligence effectively.) I had to smile at your comparison with my personal favorite. I suppose if you took that Inspector General and added bone and muscle to him, you'll end up with Camillus, though we have yet to see that famous humor.

@Grits: Considering how memorable Camillus is, it's only fitting that his mount be equally so. I'm glad that raw-boned bay made quite the impression on you, especially alongside such flamboyant characters as Sai and Blanco.

@Acadian: I wanted to use this episode to demonstrate why Julian holds Camillus in such high regard, and not for his size and voice either. Up Skyrim way, those characteristics are a dime a dozen. But it is the brilliance of Camillus's perception and intellect that holds Julian in awe of the man. I'm glad that came across for you, as for the reminder that the Legion rather unceremoniously dumped her when she was broken.

@McB: The dog is fine with having his ears scratched as long as you give him a fresh mutton bone first.

@Olen: I hope my writing of this battle won't disappoint. I won't be able to write something on as great a scale as Sage Rose's, and with an experienced paladin's version of the Battle of Kvatch running simultaneously, I have some pretty high standards to meet!

The story so far: With the Countess Bruma agreeing to Martin Septim's crazy plan to allow a Great Gate to open before Bruma, and the appearance of a full century of cavalry at the front gates, it is now time to fill everyone else in on what is planned for them.

***************************
Chapter 30.3 The Coming-Out Ball

“I don’t like it. It’s crazy and reckless, that’s what it is!” The objection was expected. That it came from Burd was also expected. He glared at Grandmaster Jauffre. “Why should we place Bruma at risk here? For some Imperial by-blow, no less?”

Standing between Jauffre and I, Captain Steffan dropped his hand to his katana. “Martin is a Septim, and a Dragonborn! Do not speak that way of the new Emperor!” Hidden from view beneath the table before us, Sai rumbled low and deep in his throat.

Muttering swept around the room. The Cheydinhal captain shook his head and said something in a derogatory tone to Cordelia. Beside her Apsice clenched his fists on his sword belt. Lerus and Varus watched me silently. Vonius and Inian did not look at anyone, but I could see the pained memories in their expressions and the slumped set of their shoulders.

“Enough!” The roar emanated from the immense bulk of the Legion Inspector General at the opposite end of the table. His oaken baton, steel-reinforced much like the one I used to carry as his pilus, slammed the surface so violently that the scrolls rolled away from him. Sai’s snarling stopped and I felt him lean against my leg. I dropped my hand to his head for assurance.

Burd’s jaw clenched as he locked gazes with Steffan. I held my breath, but the two captains did nothing more than glare at each other. Camillus rapped his baton more softly on the table.

“If the Blades are here, trust that this man is a legitimate Dragonborn,” he growled in Burd’s direction. “Accord him the respect he deserves as such.”

“Thank you, Inspector General,” a familiar voice with a new edge slid into the room from behind Grandmaster Jauffre. The three of us moved aside, fists to our breasts and our heads bowed, as Martin Septim stepped up to the head of the table.

“Captain Burd,” he met the tall Nord’s unflinching gaze. “I have heard of your leadership from Julian of Anvil. She speaks well of you. I hope that I have your support as I have the Blades’ and -” his gaze slid to the opposite end of the table, “the Legion’s.”

Burd’s normally florid complexion had gone pale when he set eyes on Martin for the first time. I felt my own skin turn cool as I took in the reason for the Nord’s uncertainty. Instead of the humble monk’s robe he had worn since Kvatch, Martin stood resplendent in Tiber Septim’s enameled armor. Somehow it fit him like a glove, shimmering softly in the grey light that fell from the high clerestory windows of the briefing room. The Emperor no longer seemed so unprepossessing. Now he truly seemed like the descendant of the greatest General that ever lived.

I caught Jauffre’s horrified expression just before he schooled his face back to his usual impassivity. Does Martin intend to lead us into battle? It’s bad enough that we’re going to face a Great Gate. How are we going to keep him safe on the battlefield?

“I beg your pardon, Sire,” Burd saluted Martin belatedly, bringing my attention back to the discussion at hand. The other guard captains and seconds followed suit, Lerus as smartly as ever, Vonius with some pride in his gaze.

“I understand your reluctance to swear support to a stranger you’ve never met, Captain Burd,” Martin’s mild tone still held that edge of command, that same edge I had heard in Uriel’s voice. I closed my eyes against sudden tears. “Especially when that stranger is proposing destruction for your beloved city.”

“Forgive me, Sire,” Burd did not look up from his salute. “I know what happened at Kvatch.”

“No, you don’t,” Martin’s tone turned as flat as his hazel gaze. He nodded acknowledgement at Vonius and Inian. “There are only three of us in this room who know what happened at Kvatch.”

“That is why I don’t want that here at Bruma!” Burd flushed from the effort of keeping his voice down.

“I had meant only to listen,” Carvain’s voice calmed the agitated Bruma Captain. She stepped from the side of the chamber to stand beside him. “But I can’t just stand by and watch anymore.” She met Burd’s gaze and gave him a small nod, then turned away. She moved around the table to stand before Martin.

“I must admit I had the same reaction as my Captain to this plan of yours, Sire,” she said, her head high and her back as straight as any Legion soldier’s. “But as your champion pointed out to me, if this risk pays off, we will be on the road to victory. The only other alternative I can imagine is a slow death through attrition.” She bowed her head and dropped into the deep curtsy of noble to ruler. “Even a fate such as Kvatch’s would be preferable to a long, and deadly siege. I place my city in your hands, Sire.”

Martin offered her his left hand and helped her up from her obeisance. “Thank you, Countess Carvain.” He bowed briefly to her. “These past months since the fall of Kvatch, I have appreciated your steadfast staunchness against the threat of Oblivion outside your gates. The courage and endurance of your Guard against the daedra is short of miraculous.”

Martin turned to face the table once more, his gaze traveling from leader to leader. “There is no doubt in my heart that Bruma is truly the City of Talos Stormcrown.” He gave Vonius and Inian a small smile. “Just as Kvatch is the City of Akatosh.” He drew himself to his fullest height, the armor giving his presence added splendor. “Now is the time for every city of Cyrodiil to step forward as one unit. This crisis has gone on long enough.”

Carvain had returned to her Captain’s side. My estimation of the slender Imperial woman increased with her tacit support of her Captain. She has chosen well in Burd. He may speak before he thinks, but such is the way of the best fighting soldiers.

Martin leaned forward and unrolled a large scroll across the table. It spread into a map of Bruma and its surroundings. Red marks scattered across the drawn rocks of the city’s perch in the High Jeralls. When I saw the one immediately outside and south of the East Gate, I realized that they marked Oblivion Gates that had been closed by Bruma’s Guard and by the reinforcements.

“The advantage Bruma holds is that there is little level ground around its walls,” Martin said as the leaders leaned together to view the map. “Unlike Kvatch, which had a large flat area immediately in front of its gates, Bruma is mostly surrounded by sheer slopes or hilly ground.” He spread his hand on the parchment at a point northeast of the East Gates, just north of the Silver Road on its approach to Bruma. “Here is the closest thing approaching level ground in the vicinity - the Plain of Caribou. This is where they will open the Great Gate. Any other Gates opening elsewhere will be just distractions.”

“Like the Gate outside Cheydinhal was a distraction?” Leland Ulrich demanded. I eyed the Guard Captain thoughtfully. He carried his weapons with the ease of long use, but his slumped shoulders had none of the bearing associated with Legion soldiers. Just who is this man? I wondered not for the first, or the last, time. Lerus, with her contacts, had been unable to learn anything more about this arrogant captain from Indarys.

“Not to your city,” Martin shook his head. “Nor to Leyawiin, Bravil, or any of the others. They were significant threats. But Julian of Anvil has learned something about them.” He turned to me and nodded.

I took a deep breath and moved to lay my finger against the mark that identified that first Bruma Gate. “This Gate opened first, and closest to the main gate of Bruma. The daedra attack from this Gate has been the heaviest and the most severe, right, Captain Burd?” I glanced up into his blue eyes. He nodded.

“Aye, none of the others we’ve closed have been as difficult as that first one.”

“The same is true of the other Gates I closed outside each of the other cities except for Kvatch.” I tapped the other marks indicating the other Gates. “And these, as well as those I encountered further away from the cities, were not as much of a threat.” I straightened up. “However, none of them held a candle to what I saw at Kvatch. The severity and sheer size of the attack there makes me believe that Kvatch was their initial target for a reason. One not found at the other cities, except for Bruma.”

“What reason is that?” Leland challenged. I held his gaze a moment, then turned to meet Martin’s gaze.

“Me.” he said quietly. “Their target all along was me. Now that they know I’m here in Bruma, they will launch everything they’ve got against Bruma.” He nodded respectfully at Carvain. “That is why we must throw everything we’ve got right back at them. Right here.” Again he tapped the mapped plain northeast of Bruma. “And right now.”

“So we let them open a Great Gate there?” Burd leaned forward to study the map, though I was certain he knew the area like the back of his hand. “Not here?” he showed the dell that lay between Bruma and Cloud Ruler Temple. “Nor here?” he indicated the small settlement of Applewatch to the west.

“No,” I answered. “Every Gate that threatened each city was located immediately outside the main entry into each city, or the entry closest to the castle.”

“Why, do you think?” Lerus asked me. “They have siege engines that can hammer down city walls, right?” She glanced at Vonius for affirmation. Grimly the Kvatch leader nodded. “They don’t have to enter by a gate when they can just make their own breach.”

“Because they want to lure the Guard out of the city,” I answered, holding Lerus’s gaze steadily. “Because they want the city largely undefended when they send the siege engine through.”

Vonius was nodding. “At Kvatch,” his tone held no emotion of that horrifying night, “nearly all of us Guardsmen were outside the walls when that monstrous thing came out of the Great Gate and broke the walls down. It completely bypassed the city gates. We couldn’t fight our way back inside thanks to the daedra swarming out of there.”

“Thanks to General Camillus,” I nodded at the immense Nord at the far end, “we now have a cavalry. We block every Gate they open except here,” I indicated the Plain of Caribou on the map. “Here we just hold the line and let them come at us.”

“And when that Great Gate opens, what do we do then?” Varus of Anvil asked. “Do we charge in there and stop that siege engine?”

“The only way to close a Great Gate, or any Gate for that matter, is to take the sigil stone that resides within.” I answered. “When that Great Gate opens, I will go in there.”

Now the leaders stared at me, all except the Kvatch contingent and General Camillus. “By yourself?” Leland asked, incredulous.

“Why not?” The decanus of the Skingrad contingent, a grizzled veteran some fifty years of age, shrugged. “She did that at our Gate.”

Ashcroft nodded. “And at Chorrol, too.” He cocked his head at the Cheydinhal leader. “Are you volunteering to go in there?”

As Leland shook his head fiercely, Vonius lifted serious eyes to me. “There is no sneaking this time, Julian. If Kvatch repeats itself here, you’ll have only about a quarter of a bell’s toll to get that Sigil Stone before the siege engine breaks through. That’s about how long it took at Kvatch.”

I nodded. I had already considered it. “I understand that the stone must be recovered before that siege engine comes out.” My mind returned to the caverns of Lake Arrius. “I’m ready.”

“You know the basic mission,” Martin stepped to stand beside me. “Go back to your contingents. Feed your people well and begin battle preparations. Let’s meet at the Chapel of Talos in two bells to finalize our plans.”

I see the IG has his hands full with the captains. No surprise there. When you have that many egos in the same room, there is going to be some friction. Especially when they hear about what the plan calls for!

Martin timed his entrance perfectly. And how perfect of him to be wearing Tiber Septim's armor. Winning the loyalty and trust of these people will be a true test of his ability as an Emperor.

Once again the Countess also shows her salt as a ruler. She not only diffuses the situation, but also rallies the others in support of Emperor Martin.

The following war council give us readers a wonderful overview of what to expect next. You have described the battlefield for us, illustrated the strategy of the defenders, and what they expect from the daedra.

“When that Great Gate opens, I will go in there.”
I just love how Julian throws down here. That is our former centurion!

I loved the way you painted Countess Carvain here. Her perfect blend of loyalty to both her emperor and guard captain went far to diffuse things and meld support for the plan. Burd's a good man and his love for Bruma is understandable. I'm glad that came through loud and clear.

“What reason is that?” Leland challenged. I held his gaze a moment, then turned to meet Martin’s gaze.
“Me.” he said quietly.’
Wow! Very powerful stuff!

You held an impressive war council! We know the plan and its risks.

“There is no sneaking this time, Julian.”
Having a character who lives by hiding in shadow, I was struck hard by the truth of Ilend’s words. Here’s hoping Julian’s friends in the Guild of Mages fully provision her with potions to shroud herself. Elixors for fatigue and speed wouldn’t hurt our old warrior either.

When Martin puts on his armor, it’s go time! I love that Julian and Jauffre immediately realized why he’s wearing it. Although Jauffre’s horror could also be related to the whole holy relic thing.

The clash of captains was interesting to see, and Countess Carvain’s calm deference to Martin was so perfect for her.

Now the plan is laid out. The whole time that Julian is making her run for the stone, I’ll be nervous about what’s happening back on the battlefield. The tension here is excellent! I love that at the end of this segment, Martin was standing beside Julian.

Selling that plan to the captains was quite a bit of work. Martin stepped up to it though. Details fo Kvatch and the consideration of the daedra's tactics was a good touch, it makes perfect sense that they should be considered and shows them changing to best oppose the foe. Bravo.

Again you bring a lot of old characters back, some of whom I suspect will have a place in the future of this piece. It gives a nice sense of continuity which the game rather lacked.

Yet another difficulty. Julian not only has to get a gate open, leave the battle (which I think she will not like, especially if Martin decides he's going to be a lunatic), then get across the deadlands, and fast. It will be interesting to see how she manages.

Brilliant stuff, loved the way each contingent had a piece to say, and also that they all regarded whatsit from Cheydinhal with disdain... ...Although, I remeber watching him once in that battle, he's a beast with that honking great hammer y'know?... ...

Aaamywho, an exceptional chapter...Brilliant stuff...Loved it...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

I like the way you put Illend Vonius and Berich Inian in there as part of the Kvatch contingent. People with first-hand experience of a siege engine.

Everyone else has already pointed out the other things I liked.

@SubRosa: Thanks for the kind words. Yes, I wanted to show the egos in the room. I had Destri's infamous war council with the Direnni and the incomparable Hoag Merkiller in mind as I wrote this. The more I write this character, the more I feel that IG Camillus is my HM. I'm glad you approve of the Countess's presence in the room. Yes, she only intended to listen, as any good ruler should, but she knew she needed to calm Burd down before he and Steffan came to blows. Steffan, in his own way, is just as fierce in his loyalty to the Blades and their duties to the Septims.

@Acadian: Ilend Vonius knows better than most the challenges Julian faces in the Deadlands. Burd and his men have learned to sneak from the get go, but Vonius has made mistakes and lost men as a result. He is the only other one who knows how crazy stupid it is to run in there waving your sword, but he also recognizes that there is no time to sneak. As for Leland, it's so easy making that arrogant ar$ehole the baddie on this council.

@Grits: I suspect you may be right - Jauffre is horrified at Martin wearing a holy relic, as well as at the idea of him leading from the front. Though he did say in an earlier chapter that previous Emperors have led from the front in the past. I can't help but see Carvain as being ruthlessly practical and effective as a ruler. Her only weakness seems to be her obsession with Akaviri artifacts. Whether we see that side of her or not remains to be seen. I'm glad that you pointed out Martin standing beside Julian at the end. I wanted to emphasize that he acknowledges her as his champion, as Carvain so aptly points out.

@Olen: I agree that this is going to be a tough one for Julian. So many of her habits - new and old - are going to war against each other in the upcoming segments. She is going to have to trust the Blades to keep Martin safe, trust the captains to work together on this one, and trust in her own strength, speed and physical conditioning to get her through the Deadlands in time.

@McBadgere: I think we will soon see what kind of fighter Leland really is. Though he has no Legion experience, I'm confident that he won't embarrass himself on the Plain of Caribou.

@ghastley: Yes, I think having people with prior experience of a Great Gate with its siege engine is critical. We will see how critical Julian knows their knowledge is in this next chapter.

The story so far: The bare outline of the battle plans have been laid out for the captains. Naturally Burd objected to putting Bruma at such significant risk, but Countess Carvain and Martin Septim manage to convince him that it's absolutely necessary. As Martin so aptly says in the game, no one's going to like it.

*********************
Chapter 30.4 Military Intelligence

While Martin conferred briefly with Jauffre and Camillus, Baurus sidled up to where I stood beside the door, waiting my turn to leave with the guard leaders. His anxiety, palpable beneath that impassive exterior, arrested my departure. Beside him, Steffan’s own feelings were more evident in the grim set of his lips and the distracted way he responded to Sai’s more enthusiastic greeting.

“Julian,” Baurus put one hand on my shoulder, blocking my view of the Emperor and the Grandmaster.

“I know, sir, I’ll be careful in that Gate,” I began, but he shook his head.

“We’re concerned for you, of course,” Steffan murmured, tipping his head down toward Baurus and I so that only we heard his words. “But that’s not what we need to talk about.”

I glanced at him, then returned my gaze to Baurus. “Then what is it, sir?”

“You’ve got to convince Martin Septim not to lead this fight,” Baurus hissed between clenched teeth. My eyes widened at his words.

“He does intend to take the field?” I matched his tone. “But what combat experience does he have?” I shook my head.

“I don’t doubt his courage,” Baurus growled softly. “That’s not the issue. The issue is that there simply isn’t enough of the Dragonguard left to protect him.”

“What Dragonguard, sir?” I demanded. “There’s only you, Baurus!” I inhaled slowly. “And Martin Septim is the main target. All the Daedra on the field will be beelining for him.”

“And he’s wearing Tiber Septim’s armor,” Steffan’s tone subdued Sai’s buoyant tail. “So much for blending in with the vanguard.”

“Steffan and I,” Baurus flicked his gaze at the taller Imperial, “we’ve tried to talk him out of it. I know Grandmaster Jauffre will try to talk him out of it. But the only one Martin Septim really listens to is you, Julian. You were the only one to convince him to take time to eat and sleep. You were the only one to get him to stop pushing himself so hard when he first came to Cloud Ruler Temple. You’re the only one he really, truly trusts.”

I recalled that first night out of Weynon Priory, when we had started out on the Orange Road. How quickly Martin had been to jump to battle! How stubbornly he had refused to promise to let me do all the dirty work. How he had conceded only that he would not take unnecessary risks.

“There are some things I can’t talk him out of,” I said finally, meeting each man’s gaze in turn. “I will do as you ask, but I can’t promise that I will succeed. Best you prepare for protecting him as best as you can on the Plain of Caribou.”

Baurus sighed, dropping his hand from my shoulder. “You’re right, Julian. He is worse than his father.” His eyes flashed briefly. “Oh, I mean that in a good way. Emperor Uriel was a good man, but I think Martin’s better.” He scrubbed his palm over his close-cropped hair, a betrayal of the frustration I knew he felt. “But I think I’m going to be as white as you when this is all over!”

“Never mind that,” Steffan clapped Baurus on his back. “I’ll reassign Fortis and Pelagius to your Dragonguard. The rest of us will support you out there on the field.” He turned back to me. “But if you could convince Martin Septim, it would help Baurus keep his youthful appearance for a few years more.”

“I’ll talk to the Emperor in a bit, sir,” I nodded past Baurus’s broad shoulder toward that shimmering armor. “I’d like to talk to Vonius about the Great Gate before he gets too busy with his preparations.”

“Go, we’ll see you later, then,” Baurus stepped back. “Good luck with the Emperor.”

“And if I don’t get the chance before then,” Steffan added, “good luck with the Sigil Stone. May Akatosh and Talos go with you.”

Outside in the broad castle courtyard, Leland strode up to me. Though he was somewhat shorter than I, he somehow managed to look down his nose. “So you’re the Hero of Kvatch,” he sneered. “And of every other city in Cyrodiil, it seems.” His gaze raked up and down my frame. “We’ll see, won’t we?” Before I could answer, he turned and stalked away. Sai growled deep in his throat at Leland’s departing back.

“Shush, Sai,” I dropped my hand to his ruff. “He’s not worth getting your hackles up over.”

“You got that right,” Lerus’s voice reached me. I turned as the Bravil captain paused beside me, her icy gaze piercing daggers into Leland’s back. “I have no idea where Indarys dug him up - he’s certainly in no Legion records I’ve been able to find.”

“Mercenary?” I wondered, contrasting Leland’s slouch to the ramrod straight postures of the other guard captains I had met in my travels.

Lerus shrugged. “Something’s not right, there,” she admitted. “Indarys knows that only Legion officers can be guard captains, so why would he go against that rule?”

I shook my head. “That’s something for another time, Lerus.”

She drew herself up even straighter than before and clapped me on the shoulder. “I have to brief my guards, and you have your own preparations to make. If we don’t get the chance to talk again, may Akatosh go with you in that Gate!”

“And may Akatosh stand with you in front of it, ma’am!” I nodded as a battle grin came over her sharp features and she moved away. I wondered if my own face had taken on its own combat expression. I certainly felt myself falling into old mental habits I had developed after years of terror-inducing combat in the Legion.

I found Vonius and Inian briefing their small contingent. Reactions were initially shocked and dismayed, as each man had experienced the chaos and devastation of a Great Gate for themselves. But as they listened to the details of the mission, their expressions changed to hard determination. Jawlines hardened, lips compressed, and eyes grew cold. Before Vonius had finished speaking, they were already examining their weapons for defects and two began running whetstones over their blades.

Inian spotted Sai and I waiting on the edge of their gathering and nodded once to me. He turned to Vonius and murmured something. As the guardsmen dispersed to their battle preparations, Vonius walked up to me.

“This is it, Julian,” he murmured softly so the others won’t hear. “Time to cross the Bjoulsae.”

I nodded. No turning back. “Vonius, you were in that Great Gate for some time. Do you remember much of how it looked before those war gates closed?”

His eyes grew pained, but he nodded. “Yes, I do remember some.” His gaze sharpened on me.

“In all the other Gates I’ve been in, none of them were quite like that one,” I remarked. “None of them had that broad causeway straight to the Sigil Keep.”

“The road the siege engine came down on,” Vonius hazarded. “That’s because there was only one Great Gate. Until now.” His gaze grew unfocused. “Matius sent us in almost immediately after that monster came through the Gate. Those big gates inside were still open, and we could see the way clear to the biggest tower.”

“Tell me what you remember of the layout, Vonius.” I kept my tone neutral. If the terror and panic I felt in there is still so fresh in my heart and soul, how much more so for Vonius?

He looked around, then led me to a patch of relatively undisturbed snow in the shade of one of the tents. We knelt and he began sketching lines into the white stuff. After a moment lingering beside the campfire, Sai decided he wouldn’t get a mutton bone today and moved to sit between us.

“We came through the Gate here,” he indicated a short straight line near the edge of the snowy patch. “In front of us was a straight causeway leading at a gentle upward slope toward this huge tower.” Two parallel lines connected the Gate line to a large circle at the opposite side of the patch. “Smaller towers stood here, here,” he drew a total of six smaller circles, four forming the corners of a box straddling the causeway near the Gate, the other two on either side of the Sigil Keep. I nodded - so far it was consistent with what I had seen on my roundabout detour up the side of the island.

“I was the rearguard, and fighting to keep scamps and other nasties off my companions,” Vonius continued. “These war gates closed first,” he slashed a heavy line across the causeway between the second pair of towers, “then these,” a second line connected the first pair of circles. “I was stuck outside this pair while the others were trapped inside this box.”

He paused, his head bowed. I waited silently, desperately seeking a way to convey my sympathy for his grief. Sai expressed it better than I could when he sidled over to lean against him. The dog nuzzled his muzzle beneath Vonius’s mailed elbow until the man’s arm draped over his shoulders. Vonius dug his fingers into Sai’s luxuriant ruff for a few moments.

When Vonius spoke again, his voice shook a little before resuming its neutral tone. “Fire rained down in this area from above, killed most of them. Goneld was the only one still moving when the daedra moved in. I had to fight off more of the creatures, but I could see through the gates that they were dragging him off in the direction of the big tower.”

I set my left hand on his broad shoulder and squeezed hard. “I know it’s hard to remember all of that, Vonius,” I said softly. “But I appreciate it.”

“You have to know what you’re up against, Julian,” Vonius brushed a mailed wrist across his face before he met my gaze. “And you have to move fast. All this happened in less than five minutes, best as I can tell in that place.” He shook his head. “The terrain is very unstable, too. Some of the structures I saw were already collapsing, and more fell down before you came through.” He drew thin lines connecting the smaller towers that anchored the war gates. “There were footbridges high up here, they collapsed shortly after Goneld was taken away. I could hear rocks falling, and some of those towers started listing.”

“I noticed that here,” I tapped the rough map, “and in other Gates too. Seems that the whole of the Deadlands is constantly changing.”

“Mehrunes Dagon is the Lord of Destruction,” Vonius commented. “It would make sense that he would destroy even what he creates.” He regarded the makeshift diagram a moment longer. “I’m sorry, I can’t tell you much more than that.”

“You’ve told me a lot, Vonius,” I rose to my feet and brushed the snow from my knees. Sai jumped up and resumed his place beside my left side. “It’s just what I needed to know.”

“You’re going in there alone?” Vonius rose as well and stamped his feet. “No one to watch your back?”

“I don’t intend to stay in one place for long,” I answered. “I also don’t intend to stop and kill every daedra I see, but run like the wind for that Sigil Stone. It’s like you said, I have only a quarter bell to cover that much ground.”

“I don’t know how you’re going to do it,” Vonius shook his head. “But if anyone can, it’ll be you.”

I held his gaze a moment longer, then stuck my right hand out. “For Kvatch, Vonius. For Kvatch.”

His grip on my wrist was combat-hard. “For Kvatch,” he echoed.

It’s great to see the Martin issue tackled right away. Without him there’s no need for the Sigil Stone, so of course they’d want him to stay safe. But without the Stone, he can’t do his job. Also he has some pretty big plated boots to fill, and he doesn't want to look weak at the moment he steps up as the heir. I look forward to hearing what he has to say about it.

I was interested to see how the Kvatch folks remembered their Gate experience, and what that would mean for Julian’s run. It seems that even if they were inside the Great Gate at Kvatch instead of one of the regular ones, things might have changed by now. Or the Bruma Great Gate could open to a different part of the Deadlands. I like that they don’t have all of the answers, because they wouldn’t.

My favorite part here is seeing Baurus, Steffan, Julian, and of course Sai as a team of conspirators. It occurs to me that Sai is going to have an uncomfortable time in a few hours.

The tension is building beautifully! These episodes are a wonder, haute!

“You’re right, Julian. He is worse than his father.” His eyes flashed briefly.’
This says much – and clearly with both consternation and affection on Baurus’ part. I agree with Grits that it was good to at least acknowledge the challenges to Martin’s safety. I expect Julian will try to talk with Martin, but I suspect she is right in predicting that her influence here will be limited.

Nice little sub-mystery going on regarding Lelend and why he holds a position he is so clearly not suited for.

The poignant review between Julian and Ilend regarding what they knew about great gates was both welcome and wise. It really helps tie the upcoming events at Bruma to the tragedy at Kvatch. A bit of a full circle feel.

You are doing a great job capturing the whole epic feel of this undertaking at Bruma, and I am on the edge of my chair with nervous anticipation!

Steffan and Baurus are understandably concerned with the thought of Martin taking the field. Given that he is the last Septim only gives them more reason to fear. There is no heir waiting to take his place if he comes back in a box.

But OTOH, there is no symbol greater for the legionaries and city guard to rally behind then the Emperor. Save perhaps Akatosh himself. In what will likely be the pivotal battle in the Oblivion Crisis, can Martin afford to sit it out in the relative safety of Castle Bruma or Cloud Ruler Temple? Even more than that, is it in his makeup? He is not just a man after all, but a dragon as well (as Skyrim shows, literally). Sitting on his bum is just not something one like him is capable of. He has already demonstrated this is in the past. It is just who and what he is. So the Blades are going to have their work cut out for them.

An interesting little interlude with Leland, the mystery Breton who was born without tact, courtesy, decency, or any other redeeming qualities. That fact that you are giving him these paragraphs suggests to me that we will be seeing more of him in the future.

“Time to cross the Bjoulsae.”
I loved your ES-ized version of crossing the Rubicon. I was half expecting Julian to say "The die is cast!" afterward.

Very smart of Julian to talk to the Kvatch survivors to get the skinny on the Great Gate. Hopefully what they tell her will give her an edge inside that thing. Very interesting observation on how the Deadlands are constantly disintegrating. Even playing the game I liked how the place looked destroyed. As Vonius pointed out, Dagon is the lord of destruction after all.

Verrah verrah cool... ...

From the Martin going into battle thing (which I always had the Gauntlets of the Crusader for, with the healing spell thing)...

To the memories of the Kvatch gate...Loved the idea that the deadlands were constantly changing btw...Someone's probably going to tell me that they did that anyways and I've just failed to notice it aren't they?...Aaamywho, that was a fantastic image right there...Nice one!!...

And the Leland thing...Yes, when I did the MQ with my Knight Commander went to thank Leland for his efforts after the battle and he was most put out by his rudeness...So "He" decided to go find him when the crisis was over... ...That was fun...

But he was definately a beast in battle, I'll give him that...

Another amazing chapter...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

I cheered when you returned then promptly got way behind...RL...but I am back up with Julian, Sai and Blanco.

Wonderful writing as usual but the pieces from them meeting with Carvain to here is some truly great writing. You conveyed through words a tangible tension in preparation for the battle ahead, and I can almost feel an underlying excitement not for the fight but for the possibility that once this is done it will be over.

Each character brought their own to the table and you served it up like a feast.

I am so glad you are back with this story. Can't wait for more and hopefully I can keep up

Of course, Martin's presence as a magnet on the battlefield will help Julian's entry into the great gate when it opens, so he's got the right strategy. One hopes that he has some decent defensive enhancement on that armor, and can do the "tank" job properly.

I'm looking forward to whatever you're setting Leland up for.

Much has already been said. Acadian has already noted how well the reflection back to Kvatch works to give a sense of continuity and completion. Talking with the survivors of the first gate to get the details of the last has a good symmetry. It also works well to take advantage of the fact that you readers know the basic plot outline and use that to make this seem all the more climactic.

Dealing with Martin taking the field is an interesting conundrum. All he is really doing is putting himself - who is an asset worth far more than a mere figurehead as he is to relight the fires and knows more about the Dawn than anyone else (at least who's telling) - at unnecessary risk for his own vanity. Very few people know what he looks like and there is no real reason not to dress someone else up in the armour and have the same moral boost without the risk. Equally he is the Emperor and I suspect what he says will go.

We see more of Steffan and Leland. I suspect to do with life beyond the main quest.

@ Grits: Somehow I just couldn't see Baurus (or Steffan, for that matter) sitting on the issue of Martin Septim taking the field. Baurus is even more dedicated to his bodyguard duties since Uriel's death, which he sees as failure on his part. Can we blame him for being determined not to fail again? And I also wanted to show how seriously Steffan takes his role as supporting officer for Baurus's Dragonguard. Yes, Sai will be quite uncomfortable in a short time.

@Acadian: You will see just how right you are about Julian's chances at dissuading Martin. I liked exploring Leland's position as Cheydinhal captain, especially since I had decided some time ago (thanks to a discussion SubRosa, you and I participated in some time ago back on the other forum) that all Guard Captains oughta be either current or former Legion. While I was pondering the Bruma Great Gate question, it occurred to me that it was the only other Oblivion Gate to have that big, paved causeway besides Kvatch. None of the others had that same straight path guarded by immense war gates. It hit me that the two Great Gates had much in common when you look at the basic layouts of the Deadlands behind them and compare them to the other smaller Gates in game. The fact that the Deadlands behind the Great Gates are intended solely for the purpose of sending that siege engine out is likely the reason why both of them share so much in common.

@Sage Rose: While I find "Rubicon" easier to pronounce than "Bjoulsae," I knew I had to use a TES river for that saying. Thanks for recognizing one of Caesar's more famous exploits and how it translates to Bruma's situation. I was tempted to have Julian say "The die is cast!" but I decided that would make the whole episode too derivative. As McB keeps pointing out though, Leland does have one redeeming trait - the man can fight. Yes, we'll be seeing more of him in the future.

@McB: Once again, thanks for those words! I never started KoN until after the MQ was finished, so I never had access to the Gauntlets of the Crusader. Might have been useful at a time like this! All of my PC's have the same reaction to Leland's greeting as yours - "What's your problem, arsehole?"

@Athynae: Thank you! I'm glad you found the time to catch up once again! I've tried to make each character shine in their own right, as at this point in the MQ, each of them has their own unique personality and I wanted to share that with my readers. Meeting Carvain in this story was a long-anticipated milestone, and I am so delighted to finally bring her Countess Highness into the plot. She has been waiting with Countess-y impatience these past two years to make her appearance. And I believe I've been remiss in commenting on your story about the Princess. It's been fun seeing how similar the two ladies are in their temperaments. I've been tempted to write Countess Carvain's own backstory of how she gained the throne of County Bruma . . .

@ghastley: I'm not sure about the enchantment on Tiber's armor, but the fact that it comes with four attendant guardians should bode well for Martin Septim. That and one other thing that will become evident in upcoming segments . . . Whatever I'm setting Leland up for will have to wait until after the Crisis is over. Julian has her priorities, and right now Leland's mystery origins rank pretty low on that list.

@Olen: So good to have you comment, as always. While I wasn't consciously aware of the symmetry of the two Great Gates and having the Kvatch contingent there until I was actually writing the piece, it just works out so well that I had to use it. And the events at Kvatch happened so long ago (three months, I believe, in OHDH time) that I thought it worthwhile to remind readers of the Deadlands behind the Kvatch Gate. I hope that you will find Martin Septim's reasons for taking the battlefield worth the risk. As for Steffan and Leland, you're right, it has to do with LBMQ.

The story so far: Julian has been asked by Baurus and Steffan to try and dissuade Martin Septim from taking the field in combat. Though she doubts her own success, Julian agrees to do so. After a brief, nasty encounter with our favorite polite Breton, Julian catches up with Vonius and rehashes their memories of the Deadlands beyond the Kvatch Great Gate. Now Julian is going to try and keep her promise to her Blades friends.

*******************

Chapter 30.5 One Last Confession

“Forgive me for interrupting, Sire,” I found Martin seated in the front pew before the altar of Talos within the Chapel following the second briefing. Baurus, in his customary position just behind Martin’s shoulder, flickered his gaze at me. I gave him the tiniest of nods.

Martin looked around at me. “What is it, Julian?”

“I’d like to speak to you privately, Sire,” I stepped back and gestured toward one of the small chambers set along the western wall of the Chapel, beneath the tall stained glass windows.

“A confession, Julian?” Martin’s brows rose at me. “But I am a priest of Akatosh, not Talos.”

It’s not quite a confession, but that approach can work. “The confession is to you, Sire, not to Talos.”

Martin rose to his feet, Tiber Septim’s cuirass clanking softly against the Blades greaves Martin had found somewhere. He nodded for me to choose one of the compartments. Baurus followed us, but waited outside the curtained doorway as we entered. At my signal, Sai parked his haunches next to Baurus’s left boot and turned his attention outward.

The room was just large enough for two chairs set facing each other. There were no other furnishings in the room. A small round window set high in the wall let light into the cell.

I waited for Martin to settle into his seat before taking mine. He met my gaze, and I was reminded of our conversation atop Cloud Ruler Temple’s gate, when I told him of the vision sent by Akatosh.

“May Akatosh and Talos forgive me for what I am about to say to you, Sire,” I began softly. “I think it will be best if you returned to Cloud Ruler Temple and let us fighting soldiers defend Bruma. If you were to fall in battle here -” The set look in Martin’s face stopped me from going further.

Silence rested heavily between us as we stared at each other, then Martin lowered his gaze to his hands resting on armored thighs. “It’s been over three months since my father died and Kvatch fell.” The words dropped slowly between us. “In all that time, you, Jauffre, and countless soldiers bore all the risk of holding back Oblivion while I hid in Cloud Ruler Temple.”

“You weren’t hiding, Sire,” my protest died as Martin lifted his right hand imperiously. For a moment there I saw Uriel’s aged visage in his face, the light of fatality I had seen in the father’s eyes. “You were studying how to end this Crisis!” I managed to finish.

The ghost of Uriel dissipated into the late afternoon light as Martin smiled. “And now the time for studying is over. It is now time for me to step up and claim my role as Emperor. If I am to be my father’s successor, I must live up to his legacy.” He tapped the ornate chestplate lightly with his fingertips. “You brought me more than the Blood of a Divine from Sancre Tor, Julian. You brought me the symbol of Tiber Septim’s reign. He led from the front. The blood and scars on this cuirass bear testimony to his leadership.”

“You are the last of his line, Sire,” I tried again. “Combat is not a matter of repelling a few bandits or taking out a couple of Mythic Dawn agents. It is a matter of life and death, and death can take you completely by surprise.”

“You forget I was at the fall of Kvatch, Julian,” Martin reminded me gently. “I saw Oblivion and the destruction of Mehrunes Dagon up close and personal. And like the few men here who still carry the Kvatch Wolf, I am determined to see to it that no one else ever goes through what we went through.”

Now he leaned forward and braced my left shoulder with his right hand. “Remember, Julian, when we spoke of soldiers and orders in that chapel in Skingrad?”

Searching my memory took a moment, but I nodded.

“You said that soldiers must trust those giving the orders are working toward a higher goal. It’s the only way most can justify the killing that is often necessary in war.” Martin’s tone remained reassuring, but now I saw the hard light in his eyes that I saw so often in officers’s gazes when they made the hard decisions. “How better to gain the trust of the fighting men and women than to lead them into battle, to show them the sort of leader I can be? If I’m not willing to die for Tamriel, how can I ask them to risk their lives for Cyrodiil and for Bruma?”

He’s right. I followed the men I did for just that reason, when I was in the Legion. I slumped forward and shook Martin’s hand from my shoulder. “But if you die in combat, who is left to carry on?”

“Akatosh kept us alive in his Chapel for three nights while daedra swarmed us,” Martin replied. “He kept us alive when we were attacked by bandits, and by Mythic Dawn agents. He not only kept you alive, but claimed you as his. Believe me, you and I, we won’t die until our work for Him is done.”

“All right, Sire,” I couldn’t see a way to counter his argument, or his faith. My right hand rubbed the outline of the Red Dragon through the mail covering my left forearm. How can I say Akatosh hasn’t shielded me in ways the Kvatch Wolf couldn’t?

“Julian,” Martin sighed. “I don’t want your obedience. I will get plenty of that from courtiers later. What I want from you is the friendship we had when we traveled here, the faith you have kept in me, my father, and in Tiber Septim as a Blade sister, and the same trust you gave your Legion officers.” He shook his head, then tapped the enameled breastplate once again. “I have a lot to live up to. If you freely give me your friendship, faith and trust, then I know I am meeting Tiber Septim’s standards.”

“I never knew Tiber Septim except through stories,” I spoke slowly, sifting through my whirling thoughts for a thread that made sense. “But in a way, I met those who followed him to Death’s gate and back. And the way they felt about their Emperor, that’s the way I feel about you, Sire.”

There was the slightest flinch in Martin’s face, then he smiled. “Thank you, Julian. That is all I need from you. Now I feel like I can take down Mehrunes Dagon himself!”

I felt my eyes widen. “Talos forbid -” I shook my head. “Be careful what you wish for, Sire!”

A rumbling sensation vibrated through our soles and the seats of our chairs. “Sire?” Baurus’s voice reached us through the heavy velvet curtain.

We were on our feet and outside, hands on hilts. But we saw, if not Mehrunes Dagon himself, someone almost as formidable. Camillus stood beside the altar, dwarfing Burd and Steffan’s lean forms as the other leaders gathered around him.

“How much longer must we wait?” Though Camillus’s grumblings were quiet, bits of cobwebs drifted through the streaks of color that connected the stained glass windows on the western side of the Chapel to the stone floor around the altar.

Martin and I paused halfway to the altar as Burd glanced up into the shadows overhead, brushing away a bit of fluff that had drifted onto his forehead. “We closed the last Gate early yesterday morning, just before you arrived, sir,” he said. “So given the rate they are opening these days, we can expect the next one tomorrow sometime.”

“But at the rate these Gates opening is escalating,” Lerus observed. “It could come sooner than tomorrow. The thing is, what if it opens in the wrong place?”

“We close it,” Martin strode forward to join the group. “Just as we have been doing, all along. The only Gates we do not challenge are those that open on the Plain of Caribou.”

“Aye, where we can gain the best use of the cavalry,” Camillus was nodding. “My century is ready, as are the mages. The horses are rested and ready to go.”

Leland shot a skeptical glance at the big Nord. “That fast? But you only arrived late this morning!”

Camillus regarded him silently for several breaths. I caught the significant glance Lerus sent my direction. “These are Legion horses,” Camillus’s growl brought down more grey softness from above. “They are specially bred to march all day and recover with little food and time. Trust me, they are ready!”

I knew what Lerus was thinking. If Leland was really Legion, he would not have needed that explanation! After this is over, Lerus and I will have to look further into this person!

The tall entry doors banged open as a Chorrol guardsman ran toward us. “Sire! Sirs! A Gate has opened!”

“Where?” Ashcroft snagged the man by his surcoat.

“On the Plain of Caribou!”

“Well, it’s ABOUT TIME!” Camillus’s voice no longer held restraint. Now a veritable grey snow fell onto our heads from above as we turned toward Martin. I saw no hesitation in his face as he met Camillus’s gaze.

“You know what to do, Inspector General,” he said quietly. “See to it.” A glance at each of the Guard Captains. “As do each of you. I will see everyone on the Plain of Caribou.”

Julian's talk with Martin went just as I expected. Except that now I can see he has grown into the role of Emperor. As Julian saw, he is Uriel's son. He has his old man's steel. When we first met him he was clearly lost and uncertain, now he has the confidence of a dragonborn.

Believe me, you and I, we won’t die until our work for Him is done.
Such sadly prophetic words!

Now I feel like I can take down Mehrunes Dagon himself!
My money is on the dragon!

Some thoughtful strategy on Martin's part, to close every gate except those that open on the Caribou Plain.

And I see another hint that Leland is not all he is cracked up to be.

Now we are getting down to it. I am looking forward to seeing the Battle of Bruma through the eyes of Julian. If Pappy Vitellus were there, he would assure everyone that Julian will definitely not drop the ball!

More epic goodness!

You expertly delivered the latter stages of Martin’s transformation from uncertain priest to emperor here. It was gratifying to see that Julian understood, and freely offered her loyalty – I’m sure that means a great deal to Martin and that he will need it. Certainly, this was a magic moment between emperor and his champion.

’I knew what Lerus was thinking. If Leland was really Legion, he would not have needed that explanation! After this is over, Lerus and I will have to look further into this person!’
Given the overpowering presence of Camillus, this would have been easy to miss. Clever of you to have Julian so naturally bring it to our attention.

Very good part with Martin, it made clear just how much sitting in CRT while others were in danger rankled him. His over working, which we were reminded of in the last part was another symptom. Here we see him going from uncertain and worried about what others think to deciding to make them think of him how he wants through his actions. Certainly strong leader material, if still a bit of a mad risk.

Camillus is well portrayed here, I like his character and hope we see more of him.

“Well, it’s ABOUT TIME!” - I enjoyed this line. I think he dislikes the waiting, and while its the fighting he's worried about he'd rather be doing it. Definitely a man of action.

“Akatosh kept us alive in his Chapel for three nights while daedra swarmed us,” Martin replied. “He kept us alive when we were attacked by bandits, and by Mythic Dawn agents. He not only kept you alive, but claimed you as his. Believe me, you and I, we won’t die until our work for Him is done.”

Well, there’s no way to argue with that. Martin’s faith is wonderful to see here. It certainly explains the risk he is willing to take.

“You know what to do, Inspector General,” he said quietly. “See to it.” A glance at each of the Guard Captains. “As do each of you. I will see everyone on the Plain of Caribou.”

Here we go!!

Hey, haute, I'm Renee. nice to meet you.

As is my habit, I started this one from Day 1 (sewers) because I wanna read the entire thing. I wish I had started posting at Chorrol way back when SubRosa suggested the place to me a couple years ago. That way I'd be caught up with all these longer stories.

but no matter. Just wanted to let you know I'm on this one!

C1.2

Or as his father would have said in another universe "Make it so, number one" Your Martin's "sounding" more like Uriel all the time, which is not a bad thing at this stage.

Let's all go see how Leland fights!

Was that the bit in Sancre Tor where you get the armour?... ...Must find some time from somewhere... ...

Fantastic writing...Amazing stuff...

Loving this story...Loving the Martin-ness of it all...Can't imagine why I felt him creepy... ...Aaamywho...Definately would follow him into battle...Does remind me so of the Picard... ...

Brilliantly done...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

@SubRosa: I really loved writing this interchange between Julian and Martin. As the writer, I knew what was going on in Martin's mind as he spoke with her, but Julian is as yet oblivious to anything but what she sees and perceives. She is still struggling with what being the Son's Companion really means. And yes, it was a great opportunity to show how Martin grew and developed during his time in the CRT. And let me assure you, though Pappy isn't there in name, he is definitely there in spirit!

@Acadian: I'm delighted that you caught the moment where Julian assures Martin of her trust and faith in him as Uriel's legitimate successor. Julian has followed enough "leaders" to know a good one when she sees one, which is probably why she didn't persist as she could have to keep Martin off the field. Leland is one of the more fascinating NPC's in the game, and I can not resist the opportunity to show the man off as something more complex than what Beth gives us.

@Olen: In the two months it took Julian to gather all the artifacts for Martin Septim, she has barely had a chance to really have a conversation with him. Like many of the readers here, she is beginning to realize the dragon that is wakening here. While she never doubted the Blades' conviction that this is the Dragonborn, she is now starting to understand just what Dragonborn really means. Like I said with Leland, I really enjoyed writing Camillus. He is not a Beth NPC, just someone I imagined being worthy of Julian's regard as a leader. I really wanted to convey that though he is now Inspector General, with all the administrative duties that come with it, he remains a combat line commander at heart. Thanks to your comment, it seems that I have captured that effectively.

Grits: Part of the reason for this story is to show how faith, not organized religion, is what drives people to take the risks they do. Julian is learning for herself just how powerful that can be. Martin's faith in Akatosh transcends the teachings of the Chapel, as does Julian's own soldierly faith in the Powers that Be stands outside any of the organized religions of Cyrodiil. It is true, there are no atheists in foxholes.

@Lady Saga: Welcome to the endurance race that OHDH has turned into! I'm impressed that you managed to read all 300,000 plus words that make up Julian's story so far. I hope you haven't found it too boring to slog through.

@ghastley: All those days and nights spent studying is beginning to pay off for Martin. Believe me, daedric magic and how to close the Jaws of Oblivion has not been the only material he has been reading. I imagine him studying the Tamrielic version of The Art of War, On War, and Warfighting. While I have yet to get my hands on a translation of On War,, I have the other two in my collection and have read them more than once. I can only imagine Martin finding them as informative as I have. And yes, let's see how Leland fights!

@McBadgere: Yes, that quote you pointed out refers to the Fab Four of Sancre Tor. They have made quite the impression on Julian in more ways than one. Many thanks to Destri for making these ghosts real flesh and blood to begin with.

The story so far: Julian tried to get Martin to stay off the field of combat, as Baurus and Captain Steffan have asked her to, but was unsuccessful. We learn just how "Emperor-ly" Martin has become while she was gallivanting around Cyrodiil drumming up reinforcements and closing Oblivion Gates. The preparations for the big battle are nearly complete, and it's now a matter of waiting for a Gate to open in the right place . . .


**************************
Chapter 30.6 Jitters and Butterflies

The shadows of the Bruma city walls lay draped over the land nearly to the Plain of Caribou. Not really a plain, the area was more a shallow bowl that served to collect snow more than anything else. Gigantic boulders lay scattered around its rim, as if tossed there by giants. Near the eastern arc, where Dragonclaw Road branched off of the Silver Road to wind northward into the Jeralls, an Oblivion Gate screeched and howled into the gathering twilight. Snow had already melted away from its base, and we could see figures milling about, trampling more of the white stuff. Steam wafted and swirled around the lone Gate.

Above the Gate hovered the red and black thunderclouds typical of Oblivion storms. The fading sunlight on the snow was replaced by the hellish red glow I remembered too well. To fight the growing dread in my chest, I turned my gaze away and scanned the surrounding terrain.

The Legio Six cavalry lined up along the Silver Road along the southeastern arc of the bowl. Before the horses knelt a row of archers. I was pleased to see them, for Legio Six’s mounted archers were among some of the best offensive weapons in the Legion. Able to shoot arrows and darts accurately from the backs of galloping horses, the Mo Gu riders could wreak devastation at speed and soften the enemy before the regular cavalry followed. I could see pairs of mages interspersed among the first row of horses at regular intervals.

The guardsmen moved toward the southwestern lip of the bowl in small groups. The Blades remained behind and gathered around Emperor Martin, filling in as his Dragonguards. Baurus kept his customary position at Martin’s right shoulder. Fortis stood at the Emperor’s left, the hilt of his dai-katana rising above his helmed head. Pelagius stood before Martin, his stance relaxed and alert.

Nonius appeared from the direction of the Wildeye Stables, leading Red and Jasmine. Blanco followed after them, carefully keeping Jasmine between himself and Red’s heels. All three horses were already tacked, but I could see that Red and Jasmine were very nervous. They kept twisting their heads in the direction of the Gate, and I could see the whites glimmering around their dark orbs. Their coats gleamed with dark sweat and white lather.

Nonius stopped before Jauffre and Martin and offered the reins to them. Red tossed his head violently and backed away, nearly pulling Jauffre with him. After rubbing his hand over the chestnut’s neck, Jauffre shook his head. “I’m not riding him tonight, Nonius. He’s too frightened. Keep him safe in your barn.”

Jasmine expressed her opinion more emphatically. She reared and tore her rein from Martin’s hand. Executing a beautiful spin on her hocks, she bolted back to the open gate of the corral, nearly clipping Blanco as she sped past the white stallion.

“I think the same can be said for Jasmine,” Martin’s tone held rue. “It’s obvious they are not trained for war.”

“If we didn’t need every damn horse down there, Sire,” Camillus growled as he mounted his phlegmatic bay, “I’d loan you one of ours!”

“Thanks for the offer,” Martin smiled up at him. “But I think I’ll walk down.” He glanced at me. “Go ahead, Julian.” For Blanco remained nearby, watching us. I approached him and ran my hand down his neck. He blew softly at me, then turned his dark gaze on Martin.

“I hate to ride him when you’re walking, Sire,” I said. “Though Blanco seems ready to take on the daedra by himself!” As if agreeing with me, the white stallion tossed his head and snorted disdainfully. I tried to point Blanco toward Nonius’s departing figure, but the stallion ignored my signal.

With a chuckle, Martin started toward the bowl. His progress was blocked by Blanco, who trotted forward and swiped his head against Tiber's cuirass. Then the stallion sidled so that the saddle was before Martin. I shook my head.

I’m losing my companions? Sai to Steffan and now Blanco to Martin? But the stallion glanced back at me over his shoulder as if to reassure me of his loyalty. Finally I stepped up and took hold of the opposite stirrup. “It looks like Blanco will not let you go to battle by yourself, Sire.”

Martin stared at me. “You would lend me your Witchhorse, Julian?”

“I may have dropped nearly all of my saved pension on that beast, Sire,” I managed to keep my tone casual, “but he chose me, not the other way around. Who am I to argue with him?”

Still Martin hesitated. “Do you trust me with him?” A memory of Prior Maborel’s kindness struck me like a hammer, raising a walnut in my throat. I swallowed.

“I’ll tell you what a certain prior told me when he gave me his beloved paint, Sire,” I glanced at Jauffre as I said it, and knew he recalled the same memory. “It’s not a matter of trusting you with Blanco, it’s more a matter of trusting him with you.” I shook my head. “Like you said, nothing happens without Akatosh’s guidance. How do we know he is not working through this horse this very moment?”

For a moment Martin’s gaze glimmered in the twilight. Then he stroked Blanco’s neck in appreciation. “Thank you, Julian. And thank you, Blanco.” As I held the opposite stirrup steady, he swung easily into the saddle. Blanco swung his head and blew into my neck, causing me to cringe from the warm tickle.

“You behave yourself, horse,” I admonished him. “That’s the Emperor of Cyrodiil you’re carrying.”

Blanco tossed his head, then turned and trotted off on a loose rein, adopting a high step that cleared much of the stones. His mountain-born heritage showed in the way he placed his feet unerringly over the rough ground.

Camillus nudged his rawboned bay beside me. “The more I see of yon young man,” he remarked in a soft rumble, “the more I understand why you turned down Phillida. That’s the right decision you made, Julian.” Then the horse moved away in a ground-eating long stride.

Jauffre clapped his hand on my shoulder. “Looks like you and I are marching, Julian! It is as it should be - it’s us boot-pounders that win and hold the ground!”

I smiled at his attempt at humor, but already the pre-combat butterflies were settling in. I hated pitched combat, especially as pilus. Too many men to keep track of, too many tasks to accomplish at the same time, too many unknowns, too many ways the best-laid plans could go wrong.

I shook myself and fell in behind Jauffre and the other Blades as they accompanied Martin and Blanco down the rough slope toward the Plain of Caribou. Sai trotted alongside me, his demeanor subdued in the face of combat. Lightly armored and lightly armed, I wore just Matius’s mail and a pair of leather greaves tucked into leather boots. I also carried only Akatosh’s Touch. There would be no sharpshooting from me tonight.

While the Blades and Martin moved to the front of the line, Sai and I walked behind them. As I passed each contingent, guardsmen and women nodded their greetings to me. Cheydinhal looked alert, in spite of the slouched postures and sloppy dress that seemed to mirror their leader’s. Anvil stood ready, their faces grim. Skingrad had Dion’s discipline and honesty. Chorrol closely resembled the formation of my cohort in Legio Six, thanks to Ashcroft’s guidance. Bravil’s best, ranged behind Lerus, showed no signs of wavering.

Inian reached down and ruffled Sai’s fur when we reached the Kvatch contingent. Vonius smiled at me, though his eyes remained pensive. “Get that Sigil Stone, Julian. Don’t let anyone stop you.”

I hesitated beside Apsice and Cordelia. Apsice had the set look of the experienced fighter, but Cordelia seemed pale and shaky. I clapped my hand on her shoulder and leaned forward to her ear. “Let Apsice lead this, Cordelia. Tell your guard he will be relaying your orders. Then get out of his way.” I felt her breathing deepen, and she nodded. I met Apsice’s steady gaze for a moment. “See you both on the other side.”

I moved into the narrow space between the right flank of the Bruma contingent and the left flank of the Legio Six cavalry. Two battlemages stood on my right, their hands already flickering with magic. They nodded to me, but did not speak. I realized that even battlemages suffered the same pre-battle jitters that I did.

To my left, Burd clapped my shoulder. This time I had no difficulty keeping my balance. “This is it, Julian,” his voice drifted quietly with his breath. “We will not forget what you taught us. What ever happens tonight, we are proud to have fought Daedra with you.”

“I am proud to have closed a Gate with you, Burd,” I answered softly. With a final squeeze of my shoulder, the tall Nord turned his face forward again.

I closed my eyes and silently recalled the two spells I intended to use: ki’ire and ta’vias pa’toluku. I needed the extra speed and strength the Redguard adrenaline power would give me, and the Aetherius Stone blessing would bolster my magicka against anything I might encounter within the Great Gate. The shock on touch and drain health spells would be useful to extricate myself from any close encounters there.

But until the Great Gate opened, I would have to rely on my old Legion skills and the Sunbird Dance. I looked down into the bowl before us. The shapes of clannfear and scamps were the only daedra I recognized. The others will come through when we move out.

Ahead, Martin and Blanco stood like a statue, facing the line of guardsmen. The Blades stood ranged behind him, their faces turned toward the Oblivion Gate. After a few more breaths, Blanco turned and began prancing along the line slowly, the powdery snow drifting around his hooves.

Martin said nothing as Blanco danced before the cavalry, then turned around and retraced his steps along the curved front. When Martin had reviewed everyone, he stopped before the Kvatch contingent and regarded his fellow townspeople for several long breaths.

I looked down at Sai. He can’t go into the Gate with me. I can’t worry about him. I tapped his head to get his attention, then pointed at Blanco. Stay with the white horse. Guard him and his rider until I come back.

Sai didn’t hesitate but sprang forward to stand beside Blanco’s left knee. I had no doubt now that he would stay there until I called him back to me. It was a new thing Steffan and I had taught him. The dog had learned surprisingly fast. Maybe it’s because he adores Blanco. They’re tight friends since that bandit camp.

“Soldiers of Cyrodiil!” Martin’s voice took on the tone of command, the same tone I had heard in Uriel’s voice when he ordered Glenroy to back off of me on that dreadful night. “We stand here, not just to defend Bruma, but to defend all of Cyrodiil!” Blanco began moving slowly along the line again, and I knew Martin wanted to address each and every one of us. “Tonight we decide the fate of our countrymen! Tonight we fight for our homes, our families, our livelihoods. Above all, tonight we fight for our freedom from the Daedra!”

Now Blanco marched in front of Legio Six. “I am counting on you,” he met each rider’s eye, “to show the rest of us the caliber of Julian of Anvil’s former Legion! Are you worthy to call yourselves Legio Six?”

“Aye, Sire!” the riders shouted in unison. I blinked back sudden emotion.

“Then tonight is your chance to show us!” Martin turned Blanco back. “Do not let us down!”

“No, Sire!”

Now Blanco stalked before the guardsmen. “Bruma, Leyawiin, Bravil, Chorrol, Skingrad, Anvil and Cheydinhal, you have your own example to follow.” Martin drew his sword and pointed it at the sixteen men wearing the Kvatch Wolf on their breasts. “They lost more than the rest of us, yet they are here to ensure it does not happen to your cities.” His face turned in my direction, and I felt his gaze on me. “These men are the real heroes on the line tonight. Let’s add more heroes to their ranks tonight!”

“Aye, Sire!” the guardsmen shouted, some clanging weapons against shields.

“Mehrunes Dagon calls himself the Lord of Destruction,” Martin’s voice rang out once more. “But Akatosh is the Father of Time, and it is He whom I serve! It is Cyrodiil whom I serve! As Uriel Septim’s last son, I shall stand fast against this,” he stabbed that bright shining blade in the direction of the Oblivion Gate. “Who shall stand with me? Who shall hold fast right here, tonight?”

The response shattered my hearing. Around me men and women shouted the names of their respective cities as well as Legio Six and Dragonborn. My mind blanked on what to say for myself, but my mouth did not. “Akatosh!” I shouted. “Talos!”

“Let’s take the fight to these scum!” Martin lifted his greatsword over the calls. Blanco swirled on his hocks and leaped between Baurus and the Grandmaster. I lost sight of him and Martin as the Blades and guardsmen swirled down after him into the light cast by the Oblivion Gate.

Akatosh, be with Martin tonight. I prayed silently, then my feet followed, more from old habit than from any conscious thought.

Woo update and pre battle speech. You caught the nervousness on all parts well and along with it some of the interactions between different units. That she's surprised the battlemages are worried shows very effectively how even she regards them as separate and a bit different. It makes sense but I hadn't really considered it.

Martin shows how he's becoming the Emperor too with his rousing speech. I imagine he is similarly nervous but manages to hide it for the benefit of the men. Blanco's offer to carry him show the witchhorse in him again and fits his personality well. It's amazing how much you manage to give the animals. Sai was entertaining as ever.

Indeed I think he does.

The shadows of the Bruma city walls lay draped over the land nearly to the Plain of Caribou.
This was a very elegant and vivid way to show us that it is near dusk.

Legio VI has horse archers? Well hot damn! My estimation of them keeps increasing. I looked up Mo gu, but all I found was a boneless Chinese art style, and some uber-orcs from WoW.

Blanco is really something here. Not only does he show his nerve in the presence of the Oblivion Gates, but the way in which he steps up to Martin shows his intelligence, and perhaps that Witchiness that his blood is so known for? He seems to smell the dragonblood in Martin's veins.

“Do you trust me with him?” A memory of Prior Maborel’s kindness struck me like a hammer, raising a walnut in my throat.
This was a wonderful memory of Prior Maborel, and our old friend Paint.

Julian's pre-battle butterflies were a good touch. They help remind us that in spite of everything she has been through, she is still mortal, still puts her boots on one foot at a time. I am thinking this would be a good time to pass around a bottle of flin. It was also good to get a little review of the city guard contingents, and the acknowledgment that even the battlemages are facing the same jitters as everyone else.

“You behave yourself, horse,” I admonished him. “That’s the Emperor of Cyrodiil you’re carrying.”


A beautifully painted opening with some fine stage-setting. The time of day, nerves, cold and massive scale were all well-captured. Then, some wonderfully appropriate memories, ranging from the heroes of Kvatch to old Paint and more.

And a rousing battle speech, fitting of an Emperor. Always better when given from the back of a prancing stallion!

It seems like Julian is well-focused and prepared for her sprint to grab the sigil stone.