Hello all, and welcome to the final thread of Old Habits Die Hard. Those of you who are familiar with the Main Quest know that we are fast approaching the end game. Only three more artifacts to obtain, then we can recover the Amulet of Kings and light those Dragonfires and see Martin to the Dragon Throne at last. Right?
For those who are coming late to the party, here are the links to the other five threads:
Chapters 1 − 7: From the Prison to finding the Path of Dawn.
Chapters 8 − 13: From Dagon’s Shrine to Bravil.
Chapters 14 − 18: From Sheogorath’s Shrine to the start of the Grand Tour of Cyrodiil.
Chapters 19 − 22: From Leyawiin to Skingrad.
Chapters 23 − 25: From returning home to Anvil to the final Mages Guild recommendation.
Here in this last thread we will see the Main Quest through to its tragic conclusion. Some questions will be answered, including who is the man Julian loves? Other questions will be raised, including what’s next for Julian? Those of you who have suspected a second story in the making, you are correct.
After a year and a half of writing this story, I am happy to bring this to a close, yet I am sad to bid it adieu. Hopefully I won’t let any and all of you down as we wrap up.
Full Version: Old Habits Die Hard Part Six
And so we begin Part Six of Old Habits Die Hard. After completing the Grand Tour of Cyrodiil rounding up reinforcements for Countess Carvain of Bruma and obtaining the final recommendation needed for entry into the Arcane University, Julian finds herself with one more task to complete before she can return to Cloud Ruler Temple.
Chapter 26.1: The Golden Hill
Blanco clip-clopped carefully down the flight of granite stairs. I was glad to see him taking care, since we were above the timberline here, and the stones around us were slick with melting snow. Fat flakes drifted down around us in the grey afternoon light. Our breaths created tiny banks of fog floating past our shoulders.
As the steps ended at a terrace, I drew Blanco to a halt and peered ahead. The faint outlines of skeletal walls appeared in a wide dell below us. That has to be Sancre Tor. Gods, that’s a huge place! I could only see the northern and western margins of the ruined city. The further reaches were out of sight in the gloomy afternoon.
Screenshot
Blanco tossed his head and pricked his ears ahead, sweeping his gaze and muzzle from left to right and back again. I dropped the rein on his neck in a signal to stand and swung my leg over his rump. As I slid to the stones, Blanco bumped my shoulder with his nose.
Our return to Weynon Priory yesterday afternoon had been uneventful. Blanco had enjoyed the rest of the ride back to the stable, and even helped me scare off a bandit that had considered ambushing us.
Teekeeus had been happy to receive the book. “You have no idea how dangerous this iss,” he hissed in relief. “To imagine Earana with ssuch a tome iss frightening! I shall keep it ssafe from the likes of her. And be assured, I will ssend your recommendation, along with this book, to the Universsity. Congratulationss.”
Earana had been understandably peeved when she found out I had given the book to Teekeeus.
“How dare you! Traitor!” Her piercing shout drew the attention of several around the plaza, including three guardsmen and the Altmer hunter Honditar.
“Traitor?” I repeated. “I never told you I would bring you the book. Only that I would get it.” I spread my hands expressively. “And when I realized it was a daedric volume, I decided it was better off elsewhere than in your hands. I don’t trust you with its power.” I walked away, leaving her spluttering beneath the Great Oak.
I shivered in the chill. Brother Piner had given me a fur-lined tunic, warmer than my quilted tunic and enchanted to resist frost. Still the damp bitterness and the falling snow made me feel colder, especially when I thought about Anvil’s warm sun I had left behind less than ten days ago. Already it was almost as cold as Cloud Ruler Temple had been when I left it back in early Frostfall.
It’s going to be downright freezing there when I get back. But it would be good to see Martin again. And oddly enough, I miss Grandmaster Jauffre. I just hope I don’t return the way I did last time, falling into their arms like that. I crouched down at the edge of the terrace, surveying the ruins a few moments more. I’m glad we didn’t encounter any more Oblivion Gates so far. Let's hope I never see another one.
I squinted against the falling snow at the overcast sky. Late afternoon. We had left the Priory before dawn, since I wanted the chance to scout out the ancient ruins while it was still daylight. From what I could see of the immense site, it had been a smart decision. It’ll take me at least an hour to scout it. More than a simple ancient fort, Sancre Tor was nearly as large as Anvil. I could just make out traces of streets running through the complex.
I recalled the conversation I had had with Brother Piner last night after dinner about the High Road.
“What do you know about that back road over the mountains?” I sipped at the steaming mug of cider.
“The High Road to Bruma?” Piner lowered his wine goblet. “If you can call it a road, that is. It’s not used much at all anymore, mostly by outlaws.”
“And Blades moving secretly from one end of Cyrodiil to the other, right?” I remarked softly. “It would be a great way to reach Cloud Ruler Temple unseen.”
“Touché,” Piner’s grin gleamed in the firelight. “Not very often, but sometimes it’s essential. But it’s not a safe path to travel. There are no patrols, no maintenance. In places it’s barely more than a deer track.”
“What sort of danger can one expect to see there?” I asked.
“Mostly wolves, bears, some lions,” Piner replied. “But there are ruins along the road that harbor lesser demons, undead, and goblins. The eastern half of the road runs near a couple of bandit camps. Then there’s Sancre Tor.” His tone hushed on the last two words.
“Sancre Tor?” I repeated. “What about Sancre Tor?”
“There are reports that it’s haunted,” Piner shrugged. “It’s a large town, and the road sort of runs right through it. It’s mostly ruined now, but still very dangerous.”
“Isn’t that the city Tiber Septim took from the Nords and the Bretons back in the Second Era?” I tried to recall my ancient history. Piner nodded. And the place where four Blades disappeared years and years ago, according to Jauffre. “Is it passable for horses?”
“Depends on the horse,” Piner replied. “Mountain-bred horses should do fine, but ones from the lower altitude will have a difficult time. Paint could pass over the road, but I hear he’s not well.”
Briefly I filled Piner in on Paint’s misadventure. “But Blanco’s High Rock bred, and I’m told he grew up in the Wrothgarian Mountains.”
“He should do fine, then,” Piner nodded emphatically. “Stairs shouldn’t faze him.”
“Stairs?” I topped off my cider from the flagon at my elbow. “There are stairs on the High Road?”
“Yes, some wooden ones a little ways north of here, and a set of stone ones just west of Sancre Tor. The wooden ones may be rotten, but Blanco should handle them fine. The stone ones may be icy this time of year, you’d want to go down them only during the day.”
I touched the stone beneath me. Already the moisture was turning hard and slick. Piner was right about that, and everything else so far too. The road had been still clear to Cloud Top, but we had encountered a wolf after passing that ancient path. Blanco had quickly convinced him of the futility of stalking us, and the animal had ghosted back the way he had appeared. As the way climbed higher, Blanco had proven adept at detecting trouble on the road ahead. I had become skilled at reading his signals. Even more than Paint, he could indicate to me the nature of the threat ahead or to the side. For the wolves and the lions, he would turn and face them. But the bear we had encountered elicited a very different response from him. Blanco had stamped his feet hard on the cobblestones, snorting and belling loudly until his voice echoed off the mountainside, and had braced for the bear’s charge. He had fallen quiet only when the big animal turned and ambled away instead of attacking. I had been grateful that we didn’t have to deal with a couple hundredweights of angry bear.
“Let’s get down these last steps,” I rose to my feet and signaled Blanco to follow me. I remained to one side of the stairs as he followed me gingerly down the final flight. At the bottom, I gave the Legion hold signal. “Stay here until I whistle.” I wanted to clear the ruins without worrying about him. It still made me nervous to have him so close to potential danger.
I took both the plain katana and Daedra Slayer. After a moment’s consideration, I opted to take Akatosh’s Fury as well, in case I had opportunity for sniping. However, I doubted that I would have much clear room for it in those tumbled stone blocks. Blanco whickered softly as I left him standing at the base of the stairs and made my way down the rough slope toward the ruins.
On my approach to the fragmented outer wall, a growl from the rocks to my right warned me of a wolf. I drew my katana and spun to face him. He stalked toward me, head low, hackles spiking his topline, legs stiff. He paused as I set my feet and tilted the weapon in anticipation of his attack.
A dry rattling sound caught both our attention. As the wolf’s gaze shifted past my left shoulder, I glanced around in time to see white bones topped by a round pate slouching past a gap in the wall. The skeleton carried a shield and an ancient sword that shimmered in the grey overcast. I ducked down against the wall to avoid being seen by the creature and turned back to the wolf. Only tracks in the snow showed he had been there. I barely caught the last glimpse of his tail as he disappeared between the boulders.
My heart in my mouth, I listened to the chattering of the skeleton’s progress. Have to get rid of him. But how? Then I remembered. Bones! My left fingers twitched, and my own summoned skeleton appeared in front of me, near the gap. He stood quietly for a moment, then alerted to the other and bolted in shambling chase.
Clattering and banging erupted in eerie silence, then my summons disappeared in a swirl of yellow smoke. I cast the spell again, and a fresh Bones took his place against the skeleton. This time, my summons won the encounter. I watched him as he returned to a patient slouch that indicated no other enemies nearby.
In this manner, I worked my way through the ruined complex. Bones proved his worth as I cast him over and over again against the other skeletons that seemed to infest the ruins. A couple of them were archers. When they gave their positions away firing arrows at Bones, I took advantage of their distraction to close on them from behind. Well-placed blows with the back of my katana blade demolished them before they had a chance to turn on me. Using the sword in this manner also preserved the keenness of the blade. Akatosh only knows when I might need a sharp edge.
It was full dark by the time I cleared the central tower. I spotted the door tucked away in the outer bay of the curved wall. Using my starlight spell, I brushed the accumulated grime from the plaque set into the ancient wooden door. Sealed by authority of the Grandmaster of the Blades, 36th Year of the Reign of Tiber Septim.
This is it. Time to bring Blanco in. I cast a detect life spell to make certain the area was clear, then walked out of the central keep. I made my way to the northwestern corner of the site and peered through the thick-falling snow. The temperature had dropped, and I shivered again in the cold. I had to rub my hands together before I could fit numb fingers into my mouth and send a piercing whistle into the night.
After a few moments, the sound of hoofbeats reached me, and Blanco appeared like a ghost out of the white snow. He picked his way through the ruined walls toward me and nudged my shoulder. Took you long enough, he seemed to say. Let’s get someplace warm. I smiled and rubbed his nose.
“Yes, let’s get someplace warm.” He followed me as I walked back to the central keep. The best-preserved structure in the entire town, the tower seemed like the safest place to spend the night. I would enter the interior in the morning, after I had rested. Blanco would stand guard in the tower while I searched for the armor of Tiber Septim.
Chapter 26.1: The Golden Hill
Blanco clip-clopped carefully down the flight of granite stairs. I was glad to see him taking care, since we were above the timberline here, and the stones around us were slick with melting snow. Fat flakes drifted down around us in the grey afternoon light. Our breaths created tiny banks of fog floating past our shoulders.
As the steps ended at a terrace, I drew Blanco to a halt and peered ahead. The faint outlines of skeletal walls appeared in a wide dell below us. That has to be Sancre Tor. Gods, that’s a huge place! I could only see the northern and western margins of the ruined city. The further reaches were out of sight in the gloomy afternoon.
Screenshot
Blanco tossed his head and pricked his ears ahead, sweeping his gaze and muzzle from left to right and back again. I dropped the rein on his neck in a signal to stand and swung my leg over his rump. As I slid to the stones, Blanco bumped my shoulder with his nose.
Our return to Weynon Priory yesterday afternoon had been uneventful. Blanco had enjoyed the rest of the ride back to the stable, and even helped me scare off a bandit that had considered ambushing us.
Teekeeus had been happy to receive the book. “You have no idea how dangerous this iss,” he hissed in relief. “To imagine Earana with ssuch a tome iss frightening! I shall keep it ssafe from the likes of her. And be assured, I will ssend your recommendation, along with this book, to the Universsity. Congratulationss.”
Earana had been understandably peeved when she found out I had given the book to Teekeeus.
“How dare you! Traitor!” Her piercing shout drew the attention of several around the plaza, including three guardsmen and the Altmer hunter Honditar.
“Traitor?” I repeated. “I never told you I would bring you the book. Only that I would get it.” I spread my hands expressively. “And when I realized it was a daedric volume, I decided it was better off elsewhere than in your hands. I don’t trust you with its power.” I walked away, leaving her spluttering beneath the Great Oak.
I shivered in the chill. Brother Piner had given me a fur-lined tunic, warmer than my quilted tunic and enchanted to resist frost. Still the damp bitterness and the falling snow made me feel colder, especially when I thought about Anvil’s warm sun I had left behind less than ten days ago. Already it was almost as cold as Cloud Ruler Temple had been when I left it back in early Frostfall.
It’s going to be downright freezing there when I get back. But it would be good to see Martin again. And oddly enough, I miss Grandmaster Jauffre. I just hope I don’t return the way I did last time, falling into their arms like that. I crouched down at the edge of the terrace, surveying the ruins a few moments more. I’m glad we didn’t encounter any more Oblivion Gates so far. Let's hope I never see another one.
I squinted against the falling snow at the overcast sky. Late afternoon. We had left the Priory before dawn, since I wanted the chance to scout out the ancient ruins while it was still daylight. From what I could see of the immense site, it had been a smart decision. It’ll take me at least an hour to scout it. More than a simple ancient fort, Sancre Tor was nearly as large as Anvil. I could just make out traces of streets running through the complex.
I recalled the conversation I had had with Brother Piner last night after dinner about the High Road.
“What do you know about that back road over the mountains?” I sipped at the steaming mug of cider.
“The High Road to Bruma?” Piner lowered his wine goblet. “If you can call it a road, that is. It’s not used much at all anymore, mostly by outlaws.”
“And Blades moving secretly from one end of Cyrodiil to the other, right?” I remarked softly. “It would be a great way to reach Cloud Ruler Temple unseen.”
“Touché,” Piner’s grin gleamed in the firelight. “Not very often, but sometimes it’s essential. But it’s not a safe path to travel. There are no patrols, no maintenance. In places it’s barely more than a deer track.”
“What sort of danger can one expect to see there?” I asked.
“Mostly wolves, bears, some lions,” Piner replied. “But there are ruins along the road that harbor lesser demons, undead, and goblins. The eastern half of the road runs near a couple of bandit camps. Then there’s Sancre Tor.” His tone hushed on the last two words.
“Sancre Tor?” I repeated. “What about Sancre Tor?”
“There are reports that it’s haunted,” Piner shrugged. “It’s a large town, and the road sort of runs right through it. It’s mostly ruined now, but still very dangerous.”
“Isn’t that the city Tiber Septim took from the Nords and the Bretons back in the Second Era?” I tried to recall my ancient history. Piner nodded. And the place where four Blades disappeared years and years ago, according to Jauffre. “Is it passable for horses?”
“Depends on the horse,” Piner replied. “Mountain-bred horses should do fine, but ones from the lower altitude will have a difficult time. Paint could pass over the road, but I hear he’s not well.”
Briefly I filled Piner in on Paint’s misadventure. “But Blanco’s High Rock bred, and I’m told he grew up in the Wrothgarian Mountains.”
“He should do fine, then,” Piner nodded emphatically. “Stairs shouldn’t faze him.”
“Stairs?” I topped off my cider from the flagon at my elbow. “There are stairs on the High Road?”
“Yes, some wooden ones a little ways north of here, and a set of stone ones just west of Sancre Tor. The wooden ones may be rotten, but Blanco should handle them fine. The stone ones may be icy this time of year, you’d want to go down them only during the day.”
I touched the stone beneath me. Already the moisture was turning hard and slick. Piner was right about that, and everything else so far too. The road had been still clear to Cloud Top, but we had encountered a wolf after passing that ancient path. Blanco had quickly convinced him of the futility of stalking us, and the animal had ghosted back the way he had appeared. As the way climbed higher, Blanco had proven adept at detecting trouble on the road ahead. I had become skilled at reading his signals. Even more than Paint, he could indicate to me the nature of the threat ahead or to the side. For the wolves and the lions, he would turn and face them. But the bear we had encountered elicited a very different response from him. Blanco had stamped his feet hard on the cobblestones, snorting and belling loudly until his voice echoed off the mountainside, and had braced for the bear’s charge. He had fallen quiet only when the big animal turned and ambled away instead of attacking. I had been grateful that we didn’t have to deal with a couple hundredweights of angry bear.
“Let’s get down these last steps,” I rose to my feet and signaled Blanco to follow me. I remained to one side of the stairs as he followed me gingerly down the final flight. At the bottom, I gave the Legion hold signal. “Stay here until I whistle.” I wanted to clear the ruins without worrying about him. It still made me nervous to have him so close to potential danger.
I took both the plain katana and Daedra Slayer. After a moment’s consideration, I opted to take Akatosh’s Fury as well, in case I had opportunity for sniping. However, I doubted that I would have much clear room for it in those tumbled stone blocks. Blanco whickered softly as I left him standing at the base of the stairs and made my way down the rough slope toward the ruins.
On my approach to the fragmented outer wall, a growl from the rocks to my right warned me of a wolf. I drew my katana and spun to face him. He stalked toward me, head low, hackles spiking his topline, legs stiff. He paused as I set my feet and tilted the weapon in anticipation of his attack.
A dry rattling sound caught both our attention. As the wolf’s gaze shifted past my left shoulder, I glanced around in time to see white bones topped by a round pate slouching past a gap in the wall. The skeleton carried a shield and an ancient sword that shimmered in the grey overcast. I ducked down against the wall to avoid being seen by the creature and turned back to the wolf. Only tracks in the snow showed he had been there. I barely caught the last glimpse of his tail as he disappeared between the boulders.
My heart in my mouth, I listened to the chattering of the skeleton’s progress. Have to get rid of him. But how? Then I remembered. Bones! My left fingers twitched, and my own summoned skeleton appeared in front of me, near the gap. He stood quietly for a moment, then alerted to the other and bolted in shambling chase.
Clattering and banging erupted in eerie silence, then my summons disappeared in a swirl of yellow smoke. I cast the spell again, and a fresh Bones took his place against the skeleton. This time, my summons won the encounter. I watched him as he returned to a patient slouch that indicated no other enemies nearby.
In this manner, I worked my way through the ruined complex. Bones proved his worth as I cast him over and over again against the other skeletons that seemed to infest the ruins. A couple of them were archers. When they gave their positions away firing arrows at Bones, I took advantage of their distraction to close on them from behind. Well-placed blows with the back of my katana blade demolished them before they had a chance to turn on me. Using the sword in this manner also preserved the keenness of the blade. Akatosh only knows when I might need a sharp edge.
It was full dark by the time I cleared the central tower. I spotted the door tucked away in the outer bay of the curved wall. Using my starlight spell, I brushed the accumulated grime from the plaque set into the ancient wooden door. Sealed by authority of the Grandmaster of the Blades, 36th Year of the Reign of Tiber Septim.
This is it. Time to bring Blanco in. I cast a detect life spell to make certain the area was clear, then walked out of the central keep. I made my way to the northwestern corner of the site and peered through the thick-falling snow. The temperature had dropped, and I shivered again in the cold. I had to rub my hands together before I could fit numb fingers into my mouth and send a piercing whistle into the night.
After a few moments, the sound of hoofbeats reached me, and Blanco appeared like a ghost out of the white snow. He picked his way through the ruined walls toward me and nudged my shoulder. Took you long enough, he seemed to say. Let’s get someplace warm. I smiled and rubbed his nose.
“Yes, let’s get someplace warm.” He followed me as I walked back to the central keep. The best-preserved structure in the entire town, the tower seemed like the safest place to spend the night. I would enter the interior in the morning, after I had rested. Blanco would stand guard in the tower while I searched for the armor of Tiber Septim.
I always loved this quest. Huge ruined city to clear out filled with undead? Check. Lore-heavy backstory involving the first of the Septim Emperors? Check. Service to perform for your brother Blades of 430 years ago? Check.
Oh, and Finger of the Mountain is a Shock Spell. A horrendously over-powered shock spell, but still a shock spell. I grab it because, with mods, and a few custom made potions of Fortify Magicka and Restore Magicka, I can spam cast my way through Oblivion gates (and use Wizard's Fury for those annoying Storm Atronachs).
Glad to see Julian let somebody else do the heavy lifting. Guess that old legionary is getting comfortable with her new habits.
Oh, and Finger of the Mountain is a Shock Spell. A horrendously over-powered shock spell, but still a shock spell. I grab it because, with mods, and a few custom made potions of Fortify Magicka and Restore Magicka, I can spam cast my way through Oblivion gates (and use Wizard's Fury for those annoying Storm Atronachs).
Glad to see Julian let somebody else do the heavy lifting. Guess that old legionary is getting comfortable with her new habits.
Ahem: YAY! Julian is back! And for a good quest, and one which may prove challenging I suspect, undead bashing is a different business to daedra slaying.
Filling in the backstory was well done, I was in need of a bit of a refresher and what you provided was just right to get the memories coming back. It got moving quickly too, already we're bashing skelitons outside Sancre Tor (I must have done it at a higher level becuase I remember about a million lichs) and sleeping the night (rather her than me) before going in. Might want a nice hot coco to get to sleep...
I liked this, several things have thought better than attacking her which is a pleasant change from the game. In this case the wolf shows good sense when a skeleton rocks up, as I suspect one would.
Nits: I shivered in the chill. Brother Piner had given me a fur-lined tunic, warmer than my quilted tunic and enchanted to resist frost. Still the damp chill and the -- Although not that close together I found the similar sentence structure and repetition of the somewhat unusual word a bit jarring.
back in the Second Era?” I tried to recall my ancient history -- Ancient seemed a bit misplaced here, the battle of Sancre Tor was only 478 years before the events in Oblivion - history certainly but maybe not ancient, it is being rather pedantic though.
Anyway great piece and I'm delighted to see it continued.
And Hammer - Fingers of the Mountain is grossly overpriced magic-wise, you can buy or make ones which require far less.
Filling in the backstory was well done, I was in need of a bit of a refresher and what you provided was just right to get the memories coming back. It got moving quickly too, already we're bashing skelitons outside Sancre Tor (I must have done it at a higher level becuase I remember about a million lichs) and sleeping the night (rather her than me) before going in. Might want a nice hot coco to get to sleep...
QUOTE
Only tracks in the snow showed he had been there.
I liked this, several things have thought better than attacking her which is a pleasant change from the game. In this case the wolf shows good sense when a skeleton rocks up, as I suspect one would.
Nits: I shivered in the chill. Brother Piner had given me a fur-lined tunic, warmer than my quilted tunic and enchanted to resist frost. Still the damp chill and the -- Although not that close together I found the similar sentence structure and repetition of the somewhat unusual word a bit jarring.
back in the Second Era?” I tried to recall my ancient history -- Ancient seemed a bit misplaced here, the battle of Sancre Tor was only 478 years before the events in Oblivion - history certainly but maybe not ancient, it is being rather pedantic though.
Anyway great piece and I'm delighted to see it continued.
And Hammer - Fingers of the Mountain is grossly overpriced magic-wise, you can buy or make ones which require far less.
Julian returns!
I’m glad we didn’t encounter any more Oblivion Gates so far. Let's hope I never see another one.
I expect Julian is used to disappointment by now...
I loved the dual encounter with the wolf and skeleton. The wolf's decision to walk away was wise, given that he was outnumbered two to one, and neither of his enemies had much meat on them! Julian's decision to use her skeleton against that of the ruin was irony in action.
nits:
Even more than Paint, he could telegraph to me the nature of the threat ahead or to the side
Given that telegraphs do not exist in the setting, you might want to go with something more generic, like warn.
I’m glad we didn’t encounter any more Oblivion Gates so far. Let's hope I never see another one.
I expect Julian is used to disappointment by now...
I loved the dual encounter with the wolf and skeleton. The wolf's decision to walk away was wise, given that he was outnumbered two to one, and neither of his enemies had much meat on them! Julian's decision to use her skeleton against that of the ruin was irony in action.
nits:
Even more than Paint, he could telegraph to me the nature of the threat ahead or to the side
Given that telegraphs do not exist in the setting, you might want to go with something more generic, like warn.
I had such a vivid sense of the cold, lonely quiet in the ruins. I love the description of how Bones’ posture indicates that the battle is won. Using him to find the archers was a great idea. Yay, Julian!
The increasingly heavy snowfall adds to that creepy Sancre Tor feeling. It’s a good thing Blanco is so formidable, I don’t have to worry about him with skeletons and wolves about. He chased off a bandit and a bear! The Mages Guild would do well to come up with a “Summon Blanco” spell!
I’m so pleased to have more OHDH to savor.
The increasingly heavy snowfall adds to that creepy Sancre Tor feeling. It’s a good thing Blanco is so formidable, I don’t have to worry about him with skeletons and wolves about. He chased off a bandit and a bear! The Mages Guild would do well to come up with a “Summon Blanco” spell!
I’m so pleased to have more OHDH to savor.
A warm welcome back and congratulations on this sixth thread of Julian's journey! I'm so pleased you got things going well on your PC and even treated us to a wonderful screenie of Julian and her pal.
This episode was very well written with, as Olen said, just the right amount of 'catching us up'. Rich atmospherics as you helped us feel the snow and bone chilling cold and the overcast. Some wonderful tricks as Julian gets more comfortable using her summons.
Wonderful teamwork with Julian and Blanco. Woohoo! A camouflaged snow horse!
Gosh, something tells me this is gonna get scary!
This episode was very well written with, as Olen said, just the right amount of 'catching us up'. Rich atmospherics as you helped us feel the snow and bone chilling cold and the overcast. Some wonderful tricks as Julian gets more comfortable using her summons.
Wonderful teamwork with Julian and Blanco. Woohoo! A camouflaged snow horse!
Gosh, something tells me this is gonna get scary!
We begin once again! Welcome back, Julian, hope you enjoyed your break!
I can't wait to see what happens inside the ruins of Sancre Tor. This is without a doubt one of the better Main Quest locations. It's a shame Bethesda didn't do more with this place. But hey, that's where Reclaiming Sancre Tor (a mod) is going to come in very soon (I hope)!
Even though Julian may have some old habits that die hard, at least she is using her brain. Very nice touch with taking the skeletons apart with the blunt edge of the katana, it shows Julian understands that skeletons are more vulnerable to crush damage than slash damage, and as you said in the story, it keeps the edge keen and sharp (and she is definitely going to need it in there).
I can't wait to see what happens inside the ruins of Sancre Tor. This is without a doubt one of the better Main Quest locations. It's a shame Bethesda didn't do more with this place. But hey, that's where Reclaiming Sancre Tor (a mod) is going to come in very soon (I hope)!
Even though Julian may have some old habits that die hard, at least she is using her brain. Very nice touch with taking the skeletons apart with the blunt edge of the katana, it shows Julian understands that skeletons are more vulnerable to crush damage than slash damage, and as you said in the story, it keeps the edge keen and sharp (and she is definitely going to need it in there).
@Hammertime: You’re right about the Fingers of the Mountain - I don’t know why I keep thinking it’s frost. Obviously frost wouldn’t char a corpse the way shock would. And this old legionary has a few new habits to learn in the future. But that’s another story --
@Olen: This will prove challenging in more ways than one, as I’m sure we will see through this chapter. I wanted to convey that wolves are pretty smart creatures, and lone wolves are experts at sizing up risks and benefits. After all, there are no buddies around to help them should they get hurt. Thanks for pointing out the nits. I fixed the one, but left the other. “Ancient” history is relative, and it certainly feels pretty ancient to her!
@SubRosa: Yes, Julian is used to disappointment. But it doesn’t stop her from hoping regardless. I’m glad you appreciated the irony of using a skeletal summons to combat skeletons. Thanks for pointing out the nit.
@Grits: Bones is awesome for luring out hostiles from hiding and keeping them occupied long enough for Julian to finish them off. It’s a good thing she’s very pragmatic about her summonses - otherwise she would feel so terrible using Bones like that. And a ‘summon Blanco’ spell? Uh, no. She’ll stick with the live horse and the Legion signals for now thank you very much.
@Acadian: The very first time I came to Sancre Tor, it was snowing and dark. That made the surface ruins even scarier because you couldn’t see those darned bones - talk about perfect camouflage! I’m glad you liked the screenie I took of the two of them.
@TK: Yes, I think Sancre Tor is one of those places Beth didn’t expand on to its fullest potential. Of course, there are a lot of places in TES IV like that, which is good for modders. And you’ll see Julian continuing to use her brain (though not always well) throughout this quest.
@All: Thanks for the welcome back.
Chapter 26 has been the most difficult chapter to write. There is little here that I can truly call mine. In addition to Bethesda for providing the storyline, I’d like to thank two others whose contributions to this chapter have been considerable, and without which I could not be able to move on.
Destri Melarg, for the excellent characterizations of the Four Greatest Blades evah in Interregnum. It was a challenge making a connection over 400+ years between the two fictions, but I like to think we’ve been successful.
And Dee Foxy, combat expert extraordinaire, without whose expertise I could not do these four men the full justice they (and Destri) deserve.
Chapter 26.2: Into the Keep
The growing light of morning woke me from a frozen slumber. I opened my eyes and pulled the edge of the blankets below my chin. In front of me the fire glowed dimly beneath its own blanket of coals. With a stifled groan I rolled onto my back, still swaddled within the woolen fabric. Blanco’s muzzle hung over me, his dark eyes blinking slowly at my sleepy befuddlement.
Sancre Tor. The sudden recollection of where we were bolted me out of the blankets into the frigid air. “Gods!” I exclaimed involuntarily, grabbing for the woolen fabric. “It’s cold!” My voice echoed around the stones of the empty keep. Blanco tossed his head as if in agreement. Moving quickly against the cold, I checked the collapsible bucket and found it empty of water.
A few moments later the fire crackled merrily again, a fresh bucket full of melting snow next to it. Already I had the pot of klah warming over the flames. Blanco watched as I tidied the camp. Last night I had set up beneath the stairs leading to the ruined upper floors of the keep. It provided shelter from the cold, and a semi-enclosed space that warmed up well with the fire. Even now, with the fire low, the stone blocks still gave off some warmth which was noticeable only when I stepped out into the chill of the keep’s open courtyard.
I shook out the blankets and packed them into the saddlebags, tucked away with Blanco’s tack beneath the stairs. He wore only the woolen horse-blanket that Piner had loaned us. It was fortified with resist frost to keep him warm. In spite of his short stay in Anvil’s warmer climes, Blanco possessed a decent winter coat. However the high altitude and our need to travel light meant that he would have to forage for himself. I did have a few handfuls of grain, and I fed him one now. It would provide him the energy he needed to stay warm while I searched for the Shrine of Tiber Septim beyond that sealed door.
The klah not only warmed me, it also softened the waybread so I could eat it quickly. The cheese added extra energy. As I ate, I mentally reviewed the spells most likely to serve me well here. Bones. Maybe Domina Incendia. That new soul trap spell to fill the empty gems I have. That blessing I obtained at the doomstone outside Skingrad. I found the plain silver ring I had enchanted with one of the sigil stones. It enabled me to detect life within sixty feet. The other new spell I learned in Chorrol - Choking Grasp - will drain the health on touch. I now had enough destruction experience to use the strong spell. Blanco and I shared a couple of apples, then I patted his neck. “I don’t know if you can find anything to eat here,” I murmured. “But stay close and listen for my whistle. I’ll be back.”
I crossed the courtyard, feeling the falling snow on my face as I approached the sealed door. I rubbed at the lockplate, then tried the ornate key Grandmaster Jauffre had given me so long ago. Finally I get to use this key. The lock turned so stiffly that the key bent, and I could not recover it. But the door was now unsealed. A soft hissing rose as I cracked it open, and dust floated out around it. I stood back and pulled on the panel, its hinges groaning loudly in the quiet morning. I hope there isn’t too much bad air in here. Otherwise this is going to be a very short search, and Blanco will have a very long wait.
A dark passage greeted me, its shadows strewn with cobwebs, with piles of unidentifiable moldy material scattered along the floor. The air was dank and heavy with the odor of decay. I found myself shivering in spite of the frost-resistant tunic and the hot cup of klah still warming my stomach. Perfect place for ghosts. Ahead of me, the passageway turned right. I waited for my eyesight to adjust to the new dimness. Am I going to need a torch? I hope not, I hate not having my hands free for combat.
A few steps within, my new ring picked up a floating pink glow just around the nearby corner. At the same time, I heard a spectral moaning that sent chills up my spine. Ghost. Cacat. I moved immediately to the right hand wall and placed my shoulder against it, drawing Daedra Slayer. Its fire enchantment would be devastating to these creatures.
After a few moments’ waiting and watching, I saw the glow move further away from the corner. Readying the new soul trap spell, I slid to the bend and peered around. The greenish glow made it difficult to identify features, but I could tell the specter faced away from me. In a low crouch, I managed to sneak close enough to the spirit to feel the icy cold emanating off of it. It became aware of my presence just as I lifted my hand to send the soul trap spell into it. My left fingers trailed purple through its cold core as Daedra Slayer rose to strike from the right. I stepped back as fire trailed the path of my blade. The frost spell it sent my way fizzled ineffectually against me, its damage entrapped and dispersed by the enchantment of the tunic.
The ghost struggled to gather enough magicka between its hands to strike again, but my sword was quicker. Golden-red flame engulfed the specter before the ball of frost damage could leave its hands. The eerie moaning trailed off into a thin wail as the spirit coalesced into a glob of shimmering gel on the stone floor. Something sang softly from my belt pouch as the energy was drawn into an empty soul gem.
I regarded the remains of the ghost at my feet. Ectoplasm. The thought crossed my mind and I knelt beside it. Yes, I can gather it later. I have the wax parchment in my saddlebags for alchemy ingredient collection. Relas made certain I have plenty of it. But right now I had a more important goal in mind - find the Shrine of Tiber Septim.
An hour and four ghosts later, I entered the second large room. Again the detect life ring showed a pink flare on the platform high above me. I couldn’t see what it was, since the bulk of the stones blocked my view. But I could tell by its shape and the way it moved that it wasn’t another phantom. A human? Or a skeleton? The immense room was quiet, lit only by spectral fires that cast flickering blue light which did little to eliminate the shadows in the corners.
I paused, my gaze on that pink glow, and held my breath to listen. At first I heard only my own heartbeat, but before long the distinctive clatter of a skeleton reached my ears. Good. I can use Bones now. I moved to put my left shoulder against the solid side of the platform and followed it to the right. Moving widdershins, I rounded the structure and found the stairs leading up.
A check of the pink glow revealed its position to be near the top of the flight. It couldn’t see me, nor could I see it, as the line of sight was blocked by a wide, square pillar that supported the left side of the stairs. When the undead being turned to walk away from the steps, I glided forward, mentally visualizing Bones and his heavy mace in my mind. Using that square pillar as cover, I reached the top of the stairs and crouched against its bulk.
Bones materialized in front of me, and almost immediately sprang to attack the other. Unable to resist watching, I peered around as the two skeletons closed on each other. I felt my eyes widen at the sight of the other skeleton. Unlike those in the ruined town, who carried silvered weapons and steel shields, this one wielded a slender blade as familiar to me as my own. Instead of the bald pate of Bones, the blue-and-gold enameled helm covered the other’s skull and hid its face. The round blue-and-gold shield clinched the identity.
I leaned my shoulder against the pillar, breathless as Bones struck futilely at the other, his blows effortlessly blocked by the shield. The other slipped beneath my summons’s attack, smashing him down with a single, brutal chopping blow from his katana. That’s a Blade! One of the missing four? What in Oblivion happened here? Is he cursed? Are they all cursed?
The rattle of victory drew my attention back to the combat. The Blade skeleton flung his arms wide and chattered his teeth triumphantly at the ceiling. Of my Bones, there were no sign. Lightning reflexes, superb timing, not a move wasted. Akatosh, but he’s strong! I’ve seldom seen combat like that in the Legion. This is more Ferrum’s and Pelagius’s style.
This time, I watched the next encounter more closely. The second summons did not fare much better. The Blade let Bones make the first move, an overhanded attack. As the mace descended, the undead stepped back and feinted to the right. At the same time, he moved left and smashed home a backhanded side-slash into Bones’s unprotected right side. As Bones shattered into nothingness, I automatically assessed the skeleton’s tactics. Economical effort, maximum destruction with minimum risk to himself. Undead or not, he’s no reckless risk-taker.
Screenshot
The third Bones I summoned gave the undead Blade something more like a duel. My summons’s mace blurred as he made three attacks in quick succession. The skeleton easily absorbed the first overhanded attack on his shield. The second attack, a low onslaught from the left, was deflected aside with the forte, the strongest part of the katana blade nearest the hilt. Bones’s third attack followed on the heels of the deflection, circling around to strike at the undead Blade from the high right side. The skeleton raised his shield to block the mace and stabbed beneath it with his katana. As Bones disintegrated before this counterattack, I considered the triumphant Blade. Its empty eye sockets searched the shadows draping the walls of the large chamber before settling on the top of the steps where I hid.
He knows how to use both sword and shield. He can both slash and thrust depending on the situation. And he has superb timing, and knows how to maneuver without taking undue risk. Not only that, but he knows those were summons, and he is looking for the conjurer.
After three summons, the undead Blade showed no signs of damage. As I leaned back behind the broad cover of the stone pillar, I considered my depleted magicka and stifled a sigh. I’m going to have to take him on by myself. It’s not impossible, Julian. It’ll be just like sparring with Ferrum. But Ferrum isn’t trying to kill you, my sensible side stated flatly. I closed my eyes and listened to the clattering of the skeleton as it restlessly patrolled the edges of the platform.
“The key to the Sunbird Dance is to avoid reliance on any one style of fighting,” Jelin’s voice whispered in my memory. “If you get stuck fighting one way, then when you encounter an opponent that fights differently, you’ll be at a disadvantage. Fighting is like dancing - you have to be ready to change when the music changes. Yet a Sunbird Master sets the rhythm, not the music or the opponent.”
Akatosh! I hope I remember what I need to remember! I considered what I had seen of the undead Blade’s fighting skill. Both offense and defense are excellent. I don’t have a shield, that leaves me vulnerable. What advantage do I have over him? As I pondered the question, I recalled a practice session I once had with Jelin. He didn’t carry a shield - he seldom did. But the particular session I remembered was not the usual Legion strike-and-parry. Instead, Jelin had wielded two swords, both of which could be used both offensively and defensively. He had blocked my longsword with the slender blades with a fluid ease that had left me panting.
I retreated down the stairs as quietly as my mail would let me once the Blade was at the far side of the platform. Crouched in the shadows at the bottom, I unshouldered Akatosh’s Fury and laid it gently on the stone floor. The fletching on my arrows rustled softly as I laid the quiver next to the bow. I paused and listened, but heard no change in the sound of the skeleton’s patrol. I waited until he was moving away once more, then drew my plain katana left-handed, careful to minimize its song.
Quickly I scooted back up the stairs and took cover again behind the stone pillar before the undead Blade made the return circuit. As he walked past the other side of the pillar, I held my breath and closed my eyes again, seeking my center. The nerves I always felt before an anticipated clash threatened to shake my resolve.
In an attempt to calm my tremors, I took a deep breath and reviewed what I had just witnessed. This isn’t going to be easy. He’ll match the rhythm of his attack and defense to mine. Twenty-plus years of experience as a Blade has not been dampened by four hundred years of isolation in this sealed tomb. I felt my resolve begin to falter.
@Olen: This will prove challenging in more ways than one, as I’m sure we will see through this chapter. I wanted to convey that wolves are pretty smart creatures, and lone wolves are experts at sizing up risks and benefits. After all, there are no buddies around to help them should they get hurt. Thanks for pointing out the nits. I fixed the one, but left the other. “Ancient” history is relative, and it certainly feels pretty ancient to her!
@SubRosa: Yes, Julian is used to disappointment. But it doesn’t stop her from hoping regardless. I’m glad you appreciated the irony of using a skeletal summons to combat skeletons. Thanks for pointing out the nit.
@Grits: Bones is awesome for luring out hostiles from hiding and keeping them occupied long enough for Julian to finish them off. It’s a good thing she’s very pragmatic about her summonses - otherwise she would feel so terrible using Bones like that. And a ‘summon Blanco’ spell? Uh, no. She’ll stick with the live horse and the Legion signals for now thank you very much.
@Acadian: The very first time I came to Sancre Tor, it was snowing and dark. That made the surface ruins even scarier because you couldn’t see those darned bones - talk about perfect camouflage! I’m glad you liked the screenie I took of the two of them.
@TK: Yes, I think Sancre Tor is one of those places Beth didn’t expand on to its fullest potential. Of course, there are a lot of places in TES IV like that, which is good for modders.
And you’ll see Julian continuing to use her brain (though not always well) throughout this quest.@All: Thanks for the welcome back.
Chapter 26 has been the most difficult chapter to write. There is little here that I can truly call mine. In addition to Bethesda for providing the storyline, I’d like to thank two others whose contributions to this chapter have been considerable, and without which I could not be able to move on.
Destri Melarg, for the excellent characterizations of the Four Greatest Blades evah in Interregnum. It was a challenge making a connection over 400+ years between the two fictions, but I like to think we’ve been successful.
And Dee Foxy, combat expert extraordinaire, without whose expertise I could not do these four men the full justice they (and Destri) deserve.
Chapter 26.2: Into the Keep
The growing light of morning woke me from a frozen slumber. I opened my eyes and pulled the edge of the blankets below my chin. In front of me the fire glowed dimly beneath its own blanket of coals. With a stifled groan I rolled onto my back, still swaddled within the woolen fabric. Blanco’s muzzle hung over me, his dark eyes blinking slowly at my sleepy befuddlement.
Sancre Tor. The sudden recollection of where we were bolted me out of the blankets into the frigid air. “Gods!” I exclaimed involuntarily, grabbing for the woolen fabric. “It’s cold!” My voice echoed around the stones of the empty keep. Blanco tossed his head as if in agreement. Moving quickly against the cold, I checked the collapsible bucket and found it empty of water.
A few moments later the fire crackled merrily again, a fresh bucket full of melting snow next to it. Already I had the pot of klah warming over the flames. Blanco watched as I tidied the camp. Last night I had set up beneath the stairs leading to the ruined upper floors of the keep. It provided shelter from the cold, and a semi-enclosed space that warmed up well with the fire. Even now, with the fire low, the stone blocks still gave off some warmth which was noticeable only when I stepped out into the chill of the keep’s open courtyard.
I shook out the blankets and packed them into the saddlebags, tucked away with Blanco’s tack beneath the stairs. He wore only the woolen horse-blanket that Piner had loaned us. It was fortified with resist frost to keep him warm. In spite of his short stay in Anvil’s warmer climes, Blanco possessed a decent winter coat. However the high altitude and our need to travel light meant that he would have to forage for himself. I did have a few handfuls of grain, and I fed him one now. It would provide him the energy he needed to stay warm while I searched for the Shrine of Tiber Septim beyond that sealed door.
The klah not only warmed me, it also softened the waybread so I could eat it quickly. The cheese added extra energy. As I ate, I mentally reviewed the spells most likely to serve me well here. Bones. Maybe Domina Incendia. That new soul trap spell to fill the empty gems I have. That blessing I obtained at the doomstone outside Skingrad. I found the plain silver ring I had enchanted with one of the sigil stones. It enabled me to detect life within sixty feet. The other new spell I learned in Chorrol - Choking Grasp - will drain the health on touch. I now had enough destruction experience to use the strong spell. Blanco and I shared a couple of apples, then I patted his neck. “I don’t know if you can find anything to eat here,” I murmured. “But stay close and listen for my whistle. I’ll be back.”
I crossed the courtyard, feeling the falling snow on my face as I approached the sealed door. I rubbed at the lockplate, then tried the ornate key Grandmaster Jauffre had given me so long ago. Finally I get to use this key. The lock turned so stiffly that the key bent, and I could not recover it. But the door was now unsealed. A soft hissing rose as I cracked it open, and dust floated out around it. I stood back and pulled on the panel, its hinges groaning loudly in the quiet morning. I hope there isn’t too much bad air in here. Otherwise this is going to be a very short search, and Blanco will have a very long wait.
A dark passage greeted me, its shadows strewn with cobwebs, with piles of unidentifiable moldy material scattered along the floor. The air was dank and heavy with the odor of decay. I found myself shivering in spite of the frost-resistant tunic and the hot cup of klah still warming my stomach. Perfect place for ghosts. Ahead of me, the passageway turned right. I waited for my eyesight to adjust to the new dimness. Am I going to need a torch? I hope not, I hate not having my hands free for combat.
A few steps within, my new ring picked up a floating pink glow just around the nearby corner. At the same time, I heard a spectral moaning that sent chills up my spine. Ghost. Cacat. I moved immediately to the right hand wall and placed my shoulder against it, drawing Daedra Slayer. Its fire enchantment would be devastating to these creatures.
After a few moments’ waiting and watching, I saw the glow move further away from the corner. Readying the new soul trap spell, I slid to the bend and peered around. The greenish glow made it difficult to identify features, but I could tell the specter faced away from me. In a low crouch, I managed to sneak close enough to the spirit to feel the icy cold emanating off of it. It became aware of my presence just as I lifted my hand to send the soul trap spell into it. My left fingers trailed purple through its cold core as Daedra Slayer rose to strike from the right. I stepped back as fire trailed the path of my blade. The frost spell it sent my way fizzled ineffectually against me, its damage entrapped and dispersed by the enchantment of the tunic.
The ghost struggled to gather enough magicka between its hands to strike again, but my sword was quicker. Golden-red flame engulfed the specter before the ball of frost damage could leave its hands. The eerie moaning trailed off into a thin wail as the spirit coalesced into a glob of shimmering gel on the stone floor. Something sang softly from my belt pouch as the energy was drawn into an empty soul gem.
I regarded the remains of the ghost at my feet. Ectoplasm. The thought crossed my mind and I knelt beside it. Yes, I can gather it later. I have the wax parchment in my saddlebags for alchemy ingredient collection. Relas made certain I have plenty of it. But right now I had a more important goal in mind - find the Shrine of Tiber Septim.
An hour and four ghosts later, I entered the second large room. Again the detect life ring showed a pink flare on the platform high above me. I couldn’t see what it was, since the bulk of the stones blocked my view. But I could tell by its shape and the way it moved that it wasn’t another phantom. A human? Or a skeleton? The immense room was quiet, lit only by spectral fires that cast flickering blue light which did little to eliminate the shadows in the corners.
I paused, my gaze on that pink glow, and held my breath to listen. At first I heard only my own heartbeat, but before long the distinctive clatter of a skeleton reached my ears. Good. I can use Bones now. I moved to put my left shoulder against the solid side of the platform and followed it to the right. Moving widdershins, I rounded the structure and found the stairs leading up.
A check of the pink glow revealed its position to be near the top of the flight. It couldn’t see me, nor could I see it, as the line of sight was blocked by a wide, square pillar that supported the left side of the stairs. When the undead being turned to walk away from the steps, I glided forward, mentally visualizing Bones and his heavy mace in my mind. Using that square pillar as cover, I reached the top of the stairs and crouched against its bulk.
Bones materialized in front of me, and almost immediately sprang to attack the other. Unable to resist watching, I peered around as the two skeletons closed on each other. I felt my eyes widen at the sight of the other skeleton. Unlike those in the ruined town, who carried silvered weapons and steel shields, this one wielded a slender blade as familiar to me as my own. Instead of the bald pate of Bones, the blue-and-gold enameled helm covered the other’s skull and hid its face. The round blue-and-gold shield clinched the identity.
I leaned my shoulder against the pillar, breathless as Bones struck futilely at the other, his blows effortlessly blocked by the shield. The other slipped beneath my summons’s attack, smashing him down with a single, brutal chopping blow from his katana. That’s a Blade! One of the missing four? What in Oblivion happened here? Is he cursed? Are they all cursed?
The rattle of victory drew my attention back to the combat. The Blade skeleton flung his arms wide and chattered his teeth triumphantly at the ceiling. Of my Bones, there were no sign. Lightning reflexes, superb timing, not a move wasted. Akatosh, but he’s strong! I’ve seldom seen combat like that in the Legion. This is more Ferrum’s and Pelagius’s style.
This time, I watched the next encounter more closely. The second summons did not fare much better. The Blade let Bones make the first move, an overhanded attack. As the mace descended, the undead stepped back and feinted to the right. At the same time, he moved left and smashed home a backhanded side-slash into Bones’s unprotected right side. As Bones shattered into nothingness, I automatically assessed the skeleton’s tactics. Economical effort, maximum destruction with minimum risk to himself. Undead or not, he’s no reckless risk-taker.
Screenshot
The third Bones I summoned gave the undead Blade something more like a duel. My summons’s mace blurred as he made three attacks in quick succession. The skeleton easily absorbed the first overhanded attack on his shield. The second attack, a low onslaught from the left, was deflected aside with the forte, the strongest part of the katana blade nearest the hilt. Bones’s third attack followed on the heels of the deflection, circling around to strike at the undead Blade from the high right side. The skeleton raised his shield to block the mace and stabbed beneath it with his katana. As Bones disintegrated before this counterattack, I considered the triumphant Blade. Its empty eye sockets searched the shadows draping the walls of the large chamber before settling on the top of the steps where I hid.
He knows how to use both sword and shield. He can both slash and thrust depending on the situation. And he has superb timing, and knows how to maneuver without taking undue risk. Not only that, but he knows those were summons, and he is looking for the conjurer.
After three summons, the undead Blade showed no signs of damage. As I leaned back behind the broad cover of the stone pillar, I considered my depleted magicka and stifled a sigh. I’m going to have to take him on by myself. It’s not impossible, Julian. It’ll be just like sparring with Ferrum. But Ferrum isn’t trying to kill you, my sensible side stated flatly. I closed my eyes and listened to the clattering of the skeleton as it restlessly patrolled the edges of the platform.
“The key to the Sunbird Dance is to avoid reliance on any one style of fighting,” Jelin’s voice whispered in my memory. “If you get stuck fighting one way, then when you encounter an opponent that fights differently, you’ll be at a disadvantage. Fighting is like dancing - you have to be ready to change when the music changes. Yet a Sunbird Master sets the rhythm, not the music or the opponent.”
Akatosh! I hope I remember what I need to remember! I considered what I had seen of the undead Blade’s fighting skill. Both offense and defense are excellent. I don’t have a shield, that leaves me vulnerable. What advantage do I have over him? As I pondered the question, I recalled a practice session I once had with Jelin. He didn’t carry a shield - he seldom did. But the particular session I remembered was not the usual Legion strike-and-parry. Instead, Jelin had wielded two swords, both of which could be used both offensively and defensively. He had blocked my longsword with the slender blades with a fluid ease that had left me panting.
I retreated down the stairs as quietly as my mail would let me once the Blade was at the far side of the platform. Crouched in the shadows at the bottom, I unshouldered Akatosh’s Fury and laid it gently on the stone floor. The fletching on my arrows rustled softly as I laid the quiver next to the bow. I paused and listened, but heard no change in the sound of the skeleton’s patrol. I waited until he was moving away once more, then drew my plain katana left-handed, careful to minimize its song.
Quickly I scooted back up the stairs and took cover again behind the stone pillar before the undead Blade made the return circuit. As he walked past the other side of the pillar, I held my breath and closed my eyes again, seeking my center. The nerves I always felt before an anticipated clash threatened to shake my resolve.
In an attempt to calm my tremors, I took a deep breath and reviewed what I had just witnessed. This isn’t going to be easy. He’ll match the rhythm of his attack and defense to mine. Twenty-plus years of experience as a Blade has not been dampened by four hundred years of isolation in this sealed tomb. I felt my resolve begin to falter.
Exciting stuff, you managed to bypass the less interesting fights with the ghosts to focus on a single more important one, which is good. And quite a fight it promises to be. It seems like a while since Julian fought an opponent who was every bit as skilled as she is. She does have one other advantage though, which might prove pivotal: she's had an awful lot of experiance recently while the undead hasn't don'e much for a few centuaries.
I liked the part with Blanco at the begining, it set up the rest well and this line really caught how cold it is. Little observations (which are so true) really bring this piece to life.
It was fortified with resist frost to keep him warm. -- out of interest how cold do horses cope well with IRL?
the energy was drawn into an empty soul gem -- another point of interest rather than anything else: how close is this to necromancy? Given that the ghost was a human, and is now in a soul gem...
I look forward to her attack, from behind I hope
QUOTE
still gave off some warmth which was noticeable only when I stepped out into the chill of the keep’s open courtyard
I liked the part with Blanco at the begining, it set up the rest well and this line really caught how cold it is. Little observations (which are so true) really bring this piece to life.
It was fortified with resist frost to keep him warm. -- out of interest how cold do horses cope well with IRL?
the energy was drawn into an empty soul gem -- another point of interest rather than anything else: how close is this to necromancy? Given that the ghost was a human, and is now in a soul gem...
I look forward to her attack, from behind I hope
The other new spell I learned in Chorrol - Choking Grasp - will drain the health on touch.
So Darth Julian has learned the old Force choke? Seriously though, her inventory of spells and powers beforehand was pretty impressive. It shows just how much of a magician she now is. Quite a dramatic change from her days as a pilus prior in theSith Sixth Legion!
Julian shows her experience as she uses her skeleton to evaluate the first undead Blade. Where others would just charge in and start swinging, she takes her time and uses Bones to probe his abilities. Very nicely done on her part.
So Julian is going to take a page from the book of Miyamoto Musashi? Good for her! One of the things I missed in the vanilla game was the ability to use two swords, like the old swordmaster himself. Or Mark Ryan (playing Nasir in Robin of Sherwood)
nits:
its shadows strewn with cobwebs, {and} piles of unidentifiable moldy material scattered along the floor.
I am not sure, but I think you may have wanted an and where I inserted it above?
So Darth Julian has learned the old Force choke? Seriously though, her inventory of spells and powers beforehand was pretty impressive. It shows just how much of a magician she now is. Quite a dramatic change from her days as a pilus prior in the
Julian shows her experience as she uses her skeleton to evaluate the first undead Blade. Where others would just charge in and start swinging, she takes her time and uses Bones to probe his abilities. Very nicely done on her part.
So Julian is going to take a page from the book of Miyamoto Musashi? Good for her! One of the things I missed in the vanilla game was the ability to use two swords, like the old swordmaster himself. Or Mark Ryan (playing Nasir in Robin of Sherwood)
nits:
its shadows strewn with cobwebs, {and} piles of unidentifiable moldy material scattered along the floor.
I am not sure, but I think you may have wanted an and where I inserted it above?
A cliffie!
You captured the cold outside the ruin beautifully and I loved Julian's camp set up details.
Good to see that Julian has amassed some more magical skill and trinketry.
'An hour and four ghosts later, I entered the second large room.'
This turned out to be an excellent economy of words as we began to realize the ancient bony Blade that Julian was up against. Very good thinking to scout him out with Bones, then back off and conjure up a plan. So, it will be dual wielding? Hee! I think mine would have been to go find Blanco and ride south!
I love Julian's respect for the ancient Blade, even if she must try to take him out.
What in the world has Jauffre sent her into? Gulp!
You captured the cold outside the ruin beautifully and I loved Julian's camp set up details.
Good to see that Julian has amassed some more magical skill and trinketry.
'An hour and four ghosts later, I entered the second large room.'
This turned out to be an excellent economy of words as we began to realize the ancient bony Blade that Julian was up against. Very good thinking to scout him out with Bones, then back off and conjure up a plan. So, it will be dual wielding? Hee! I think mine would have been to go find Blanco and ride south!
I love Julian's respect for the ancient Blade, even if she must try to take him out.
What in the world has Jauffre sent her into? Gulp!
The details of Julian’s routine at the campsite drew me right into the scene. Brrr! I felt like I was right beside her when she opened that door.
I was enthralled from her first step into the passage. The Blade taking Bones apart over and over was absolutely fascinating. When he looked around for Julian, I got chills. Then when she drew her second katana,
I am in awe of how much character you have given a skeleton. I’m halfway rooting for him! Well, since it's Julian, less than half.
I can’t wait for more!!
I was enthralled from her first step into the passage. The Blade taking Bones apart over and over was absolutely fascinating. When he looked around for Julian, I got chills. Then when she drew her second katana,
I am in awe of how much character you have given a skeleton. I’m halfway rooting for him! Well, since it's Julian, less than half.
I can’t wait for more!!
Grits, all I will say is this - YER AINT SEEN NUFFINK YET.
Just you wait! It gets better - and better!!!
Just you wait! It gets better - and better!!!
@Olen: For me Sancre Tor is about those four Blades. Believe me, on my first time through, after fighting the last one, I almost left the fort without the armor! I was heading for the exit when I had a facepalm moment - WAIT! I forgot something! The only reason I even went into this fort to begin with! So whenever I think of Sancre Tor, I think of those four guys. Everything else is just inconsequential. Of course, if I had left Sancre Tor without the armor, I’d be dealing with a very disappointed Emperor on my return! As for horses and cold, they are evolved for cold weather, so they’re very well-adapted. The modern horse appeared on the Siberian and Mongolian steppes, so cold, wind and snow are nothing to them. Desert sun and jungle humidity, not so good. They don’t stay as healthy in warmer climes as they do in colder. Blanco probably would have been fine without the blanket, but Julian would have felt guilty leaving him like that.
@SubRosa: You know, I’ve looked at a couple of dual wielding mods in the TES Nexus. I couldn’t find one I liked. Either they used the off hand weapon as a shield (no offensive actions with the left hand), or you had to purchase special weapons for the off hand - you couldn’t just use the vanilla weapons you already had. I did find one mod that does just that, but reading the comments I saw that it was very buggy and not recently updated to address those bugs, so Pass. Nit is fixed, though I went with ‘with’ instead of ‘and.’
@Acadian: Would you have stopped long enough to change greaves before getting on Blanco and heading south? Yes, what in Nirn indeed!
@Grits: So you were rooting for that skelly, huh? I don’t blame you - talented swordfighters are always cool. For you, it’s the scent of rank male sweat. For me, it’s the skillz with blades. Just too bad his lack of a boner makes him useless in other departments.
@Foxy: You’re absolutely right, they haven’t seen NUFFINK yet!
Once again, I couldn’t have written this without the invaluable input from Destri Melarg (his characters from Interregnum are the foundations for Rielus, Casnar, Valdemar and Alain in this one), and Dee Foxy for his combat expertise. Many, many thanks to both of you for your help and input here.
Chapter 26.3: The First Guardian
Unbidden, Jelin spoke in my ear again. “When going against a seasoned fighter, his very experience can be used against him. An old Blademaster, Black Fox, used to say ‘The weak fight as the strong, and the strong fight as the weak. The ignorant know what they do, and the experienced fight as bumbling fools.’ Veteran fighters usually evolve two distinct styles of fighting. The first is effective against the tironii, such as you, Julian.” He pointed his finger accusingly at me. “These use economical one-stroke kills. The second style is reserved for other veterans. Strategy, tactics, and fieldcraft become essential. If you were a veteran,” here Jelin paused, regarding me skeptically, a distinct bulge moving beneath his left cheek from his tongue, “if you were a veteran, you’d want to deceive the experienced fighter into thinking you’re just another tiro. Then, just maybe then, you’ll get him to take undue risks. If he does, you need to be ready to exploit them. But you’ll only pull it off once. Make it hurt!”
Thank you, Jelin, I whispered silently. I hope I can live up to your teachings today. I considered again what I had seen of the undead Blade’s tactics, and planned my choreography. Let’s hope I can make it hurt.
Finally I screwed up my courage and clenched Daedra Slayer tighter in my cold-numbed right hand. When the Blade turned and resumed his endless patrol of the platform, I slid out from the column and moved behind him. As I thought it would, the slither of my mail gave me away before I could strike him. I darted my katana toward his knees, but he sprang away instead of turning into the strike. I skipped back before he turned fully around to remain far out of reach of his ancient weapon. My two swords rose before me in the classic en garde pose that took all the strength in my arms. While I didn’t need it with the distance separating us, I held the pose, knowing it made me appear untried in combat. Believe that I’m a tiro, not an old soldier. Believe.
We faced each other for a eternally short moment. Those empty eye sockets beneath the helm moved over my swords. Then he lunged explosively toward me, his weapon darting to my left with a shoulder-shrug feint to the right intended to distract me. Good move versus a novice. But not against me!
I parried the strike near the tip of his sword with the forte of my own katana and used the leverage I now possessed to deflect it away from me. At the same time I feinted with my right, spurring him to raise his shield reflexively. As Daedra Slayer flared against the blue and gold round, I spun toward him, bringing the plain katana in a backhanded slice across his right side. My cut slipped past his reach and chipped splinters from his hip bone. Then I danced back before he could shorten his sword-grip to retaliate. Advantage to me. Hope this slows him down a bit.
He stepped a full two paces back, his empty eye sockets somehow conveying a sense of reflection.
I did not expect what he did next.
With a controlled, deliberate motion he lowered the tip of his sword to the stone floor, then lifted it up. His wrist moved higher than his breastbone, until he stood at attention, hilt in front of his skeletal grin. My eyes widened at the Legion salute. My imagination provided the flicker of a ghost smile across the front of his skull. He knows what I did, and acknowledges it. No more risk-taking. This isn’t going to get any easier.
With his katana in high guard position, he moved forward with the same deliberate speed, then circled to my left with an eerily fluid grace. I matched him move for move, my two weapons loosely weaving in the rhythm of his stalk. Any moment now. Let’s see his opening move.
With explosive speed he darted forward. Rather than striking through my guard as I had expected, his katana flicked left then right, striking each of my two blades in quick succession. Before I could respond, he feinted left, sidestepped right and feinted left again before backpedaling, all with that same uncanny grace. His skull tilted to one side, then he raised his shield and tapped his left arm with his right.
Again I felt surprise. Akatosh, he’s damn good! Now he knows my strength and reflexes, and he just told me he knows I’m left-handed, even though I’m trained to fight dexter! The greatest swordsman I’ve ever met, all right. Better even than Jelin.
But now his rhythm and strength was familiar to me, thanks to his exploratory movements. I mentally reviewed the Sunbird Dance and selected the tempo to match his. With subconscious purpose I began circling widdershins. The undead Blade matched it with a slow spin to keep his face to me. I picked up the pace and began to move faster, forcing him into a whirl as he kept turning to face me. Do skeletons get dizzy? Only one way to find out.
Once I had him attuned to my rhythm, I launched a sudden attack to his left side, smacking his shield when he blocked my strike. I sprinted to my left again before he could recover and launched another attack, again against his left side, and again, and again. Daedra Slayer trailed blurred flames with each hit. I kept him turning to face me, turning and blocking in an even tempo. Is he settled into my dance now? Now.
I feinted forward, then slammed my feet to the floor in a dead stop. My thighs and calves protested briefly as I jerked myself backwards. For the briefest of moments this caught him out. Instead of facing his impenetrable shield, I faced his sword, just now coming up to guard.
I dropped to a crouch, my two blades blurring. My plain katana knocked his sword aside, while Daedra Slayer flashed toward his now exposed knee.
More splinters flew from the bone, and flames licked up and down his right leg, but he still launched a counterstrike. Before I could disengage, he brought the edge of his shield down on my right forearm. The steel struck sparks from my mailed sleeve as the rim skittered toward my wrist. Only the reflexes from long years of training and battle enabled me to ignore the pain for the moment, and his follow-up slash whistled past my temple with about a hand’s breath to spare.
My right arm bones throbbed madly, still intact thanks to the enchanted mail. I managed to hang on to Daedra Slayer and bring the katana in my left hand up in a slice across his right arm. The skeleton chittered angrily at me as he shoved me back with the shield. In the corner of my eye I caught the glimmer of a golden amulet at his neck, tangled in his upper ribs and collarbone. Is that enchanted? What will happen if I were to remove it? Better to finish this fast. The longer we fight, the more he’s learning about my skills, and the more he’s adapting to my style.
Once again I returned to the attack first. Daedra Slayer flashed in a low swing intended to slip beneath the other’s shield, and I wasn’t surprised when he dropped the cover to deflect my right attack. Before he could counter, I brought my left hand high before my face and swung the tip of the katana toward the other’s neck. The blade caught the chain of the amulet and snapped it into two. The pendant dropped within his rib cage until the broken links became snarled between the ribs and breastbone.
The undead Blade hissed and swung his weapon overhand at me. I deflected the strike with my plain katana, his blade sliding along mine with a screeching shower of sparks. Rather than bear down behind his sword as I expected, he backed off and struck again. It took all my skill to parry each and every blow without getting my fingers sliced off. Each time a strike landed, I felt the shock of the impact all the way into my shoulder joints. I’m slightly faster, but he’s much stronger, and he knows it!
The next few minutes were a flurry of strikes and parries that drove me back step by grueling step toward the iron railing that encircled the platform. Suddenly my heel struck an unyielding surface and I found myself falling backwards. Somehow I managed to cross both blades above me in time to block the descending weapon that flashed toward me.
I sat down hard on the old chest just as the Blade’s katana struck my pair. The impact sent fire flickering along his blade and thrummed through my arm bones, aggravating the pain in my right arm. I resisted the downward thrust momentarily, then brought both of my feet up and braced them against his pelvis. This shifted my center of balance, and I fell back suddenly. I took advantage of the situation and kicked upward with both of my feet, sending the skeleton up and over me and headfirst into the wall behind us. Something tinkled to the floor beside me as the bones scattered behind me, losing their cohesiveness along with the violet glow that signified the energy that had bound them together for unknown years.
Panting with nerves, I rolled sideways off the chest and staggered back, valiantly bringing my weapons up en garde. But the pile of shattered bones were immobile, the shield slowly spinning on its rim to a clattering stop. I took a few more steps back, then glanced around the chamber. At the opposite side of the platform, a bridge led to the only way out of the room, other than the way I had come in. No other pink glows manifested themselves.
But a whooshing sound behind me spun my katanas back to the remnants of the ancient Blade. A ghostly figure of a man crouched on one knee over the bones. I slipped the enchanted ring partly off my finger to eliminate the pink glow and readied for another attack, seeing the full Blades armor the other wore. Where in Oblivion did he come from? First a skeleton, now a ghost?
The phantom rose to its full height and turned toward me. The ephemeral sword he carried remained sheathed, and the shield rested at his left hip. I managed to stand my ground and hold my bladder tight as he stepped toward me.
“At long last,” his wispy voice held the subtle persuasion of the Imperials, “you have freed me.” He bowed his head to me. “I can now complete my lord’s last request.”
Cursed. He was cursed. But who is he? I glanced at the pile of bones and Blades armor behind him. “Who are you?”
“I am Rielus.” He raised his right fist in a salute to me. “Loyal Blade of the Emperor Tiber Septim. I do not know how long I have been here. It feels like an eternity.”
I did a rapid mental calculation. “The Emperor you served passed away about four hundred years ago,” I managed to regain my breath. “Long enough to feel like an eternity I suppose. Can you tell me what happened here?” What am I doing? I can’t believe I’m speaking to a ghost!
“My three companions and I were sent here by the Emperor Tiber Septim to discover what evil had defiled the holy catacombs of Sancre Tor.” The phantom shook his head. “We did not know that the Underking, who once was Zurin Arctus, had risen to take his first revenge upon his former lord. The Underking defeated us and ensnared us in evil enchantment. He bound us here to guard forever the desecrated Shrine of Tiber Septim.”
A thousand sextets of ants’ feet crawled up my back beneath the fur-lined tunic at his words. I glanced around uneasily. “Is the Underking still here?” If he is, I doubt I can defeat something so powerful.
Again the phantom shook his head, a gesture so strangely human in one so long undead. “No. He left us long ago.” He pointed toward the bridge. “But his evil will remains, blocking all who wish to pay homage at the Shrine of Tiber Septim.” His shoulders straightened in an expression of determination more real than flesh and blood. “Over the uncounted years of our slavery we have considered, no, studied our defeat. I now believe that the four of us can undo the evil Underking’s legacy. But in order to do that, I beg a favor of you, hero.”
“I’m no hero,” I answered automatically before I could stop myself. “But I am a Blade sister, and you have but to ask.” A sense of pride moved through me. Yes, I am a Blade sister, and yes, he can ask a favor of me.
“Free my brothers,” Rielus whispered. “Together we may be able to lift the Underking’s curse. Farewell! I go now to complete my duty. I shall wait for you to complete yours.”
I swung my katana vertically before my face in the Legion salute. “I shall not fail you, brother.”
He paused beside the old chest, looking down at something gleaming on the floor. “Take the amulet,” he gestured toward the golden pendant that had finally dropped from his bones at the end. “It was a gift from Casnar. Wear it if you like, or return it to Cloud Ruler Temple.”
@SubRosa: You know, I’ve looked at a couple of dual wielding mods in the TES Nexus. I couldn’t find one I liked. Either they used the off hand weapon as a shield (no offensive actions with the left hand), or you had to purchase special weapons for the off hand - you couldn’t just use the vanilla weapons you already had. I did find one mod that does just that, but reading the comments I saw that it was very buggy and not recently updated to address those bugs, so Pass. Nit is fixed, though I went with ‘with’ instead of ‘and.’
@Acadian: Would you have stopped long enough to change greaves before getting on Blanco and heading south? Yes, what in Nirn indeed!
@Grits: So you were rooting for that skelly, huh? I don’t blame you - talented swordfighters are always cool. For you, it’s the scent of rank male sweat. For me, it’s the skillz with blades. Just too bad his lack of a boner makes him useless in other departments.
@Foxy: You’re absolutely right, they haven’t seen NUFFINK yet!
Once again, I couldn’t have written this without the invaluable input from Destri Melarg (his characters from Interregnum are the foundations for Rielus, Casnar, Valdemar and Alain in this one), and Dee Foxy for his combat expertise. Many, many thanks to both of you for your help and input here.
Chapter 26.3: The First Guardian
Unbidden, Jelin spoke in my ear again. “When going against a seasoned fighter, his very experience can be used against him. An old Blademaster, Black Fox, used to say ‘The weak fight as the strong, and the strong fight as the weak. The ignorant know what they do, and the experienced fight as bumbling fools.’ Veteran fighters usually evolve two distinct styles of fighting. The first is effective against the tironii, such as you, Julian.” He pointed his finger accusingly at me. “These use economical one-stroke kills. The second style is reserved for other veterans. Strategy, tactics, and fieldcraft become essential. If you were a veteran,” here Jelin paused, regarding me skeptically, a distinct bulge moving beneath his left cheek from his tongue, “if you were a veteran, you’d want to deceive the experienced fighter into thinking you’re just another tiro. Then, just maybe then, you’ll get him to take undue risks. If he does, you need to be ready to exploit them. But you’ll only pull it off once. Make it hurt!”
Thank you, Jelin, I whispered silently. I hope I can live up to your teachings today. I considered again what I had seen of the undead Blade’s tactics, and planned my choreography. Let’s hope I can make it hurt.
Finally I screwed up my courage and clenched Daedra Slayer tighter in my cold-numbed right hand. When the Blade turned and resumed his endless patrol of the platform, I slid out from the column and moved behind him. As I thought it would, the slither of my mail gave me away before I could strike him. I darted my katana toward his knees, but he sprang away instead of turning into the strike. I skipped back before he turned fully around to remain far out of reach of his ancient weapon. My two swords rose before me in the classic en garde pose that took all the strength in my arms. While I didn’t need it with the distance separating us, I held the pose, knowing it made me appear untried in combat. Believe that I’m a tiro, not an old soldier. Believe.
We faced each other for a eternally short moment. Those empty eye sockets beneath the helm moved over my swords. Then he lunged explosively toward me, his weapon darting to my left with a shoulder-shrug feint to the right intended to distract me. Good move versus a novice. But not against me!
I parried the strike near the tip of his sword with the forte of my own katana and used the leverage I now possessed to deflect it away from me. At the same time I feinted with my right, spurring him to raise his shield reflexively. As Daedra Slayer flared against the blue and gold round, I spun toward him, bringing the plain katana in a backhanded slice across his right side. My cut slipped past his reach and chipped splinters from his hip bone. Then I danced back before he could shorten his sword-grip to retaliate. Advantage to me. Hope this slows him down a bit.
He stepped a full two paces back, his empty eye sockets somehow conveying a sense of reflection.
I did not expect what he did next.
With a controlled, deliberate motion he lowered the tip of his sword to the stone floor, then lifted it up. His wrist moved higher than his breastbone, until he stood at attention, hilt in front of his skeletal grin. My eyes widened at the Legion salute. My imagination provided the flicker of a ghost smile across the front of his skull. He knows what I did, and acknowledges it. No more risk-taking. This isn’t going to get any easier.
With his katana in high guard position, he moved forward with the same deliberate speed, then circled to my left with an eerily fluid grace. I matched him move for move, my two weapons loosely weaving in the rhythm of his stalk. Any moment now. Let’s see his opening move.
With explosive speed he darted forward. Rather than striking through my guard as I had expected, his katana flicked left then right, striking each of my two blades in quick succession. Before I could respond, he feinted left, sidestepped right and feinted left again before backpedaling, all with that same uncanny grace. His skull tilted to one side, then he raised his shield and tapped his left arm with his right.
Again I felt surprise. Akatosh, he’s damn good! Now he knows my strength and reflexes, and he just told me he knows I’m left-handed, even though I’m trained to fight dexter! The greatest swordsman I’ve ever met, all right. Better even than Jelin.
But now his rhythm and strength was familiar to me, thanks to his exploratory movements. I mentally reviewed the Sunbird Dance and selected the tempo to match his. With subconscious purpose I began circling widdershins. The undead Blade matched it with a slow spin to keep his face to me. I picked up the pace and began to move faster, forcing him into a whirl as he kept turning to face me. Do skeletons get dizzy? Only one way to find out.
Once I had him attuned to my rhythm, I launched a sudden attack to his left side, smacking his shield when he blocked my strike. I sprinted to my left again before he could recover and launched another attack, again against his left side, and again, and again. Daedra Slayer trailed blurred flames with each hit. I kept him turning to face me, turning and blocking in an even tempo. Is he settled into my dance now? Now.
I feinted forward, then slammed my feet to the floor in a dead stop. My thighs and calves protested briefly as I jerked myself backwards. For the briefest of moments this caught him out. Instead of facing his impenetrable shield, I faced his sword, just now coming up to guard.
I dropped to a crouch, my two blades blurring. My plain katana knocked his sword aside, while Daedra Slayer flashed toward his now exposed knee.
More splinters flew from the bone, and flames licked up and down his right leg, but he still launched a counterstrike. Before I could disengage, he brought the edge of his shield down on my right forearm. The steel struck sparks from my mailed sleeve as the rim skittered toward my wrist. Only the reflexes from long years of training and battle enabled me to ignore the pain for the moment, and his follow-up slash whistled past my temple with about a hand’s breath to spare.
My right arm bones throbbed madly, still intact thanks to the enchanted mail. I managed to hang on to Daedra Slayer and bring the katana in my left hand up in a slice across his right arm. The skeleton chittered angrily at me as he shoved me back with the shield. In the corner of my eye I caught the glimmer of a golden amulet at his neck, tangled in his upper ribs and collarbone. Is that enchanted? What will happen if I were to remove it? Better to finish this fast. The longer we fight, the more he’s learning about my skills, and the more he’s adapting to my style.
Once again I returned to the attack first. Daedra Slayer flashed in a low swing intended to slip beneath the other’s shield, and I wasn’t surprised when he dropped the cover to deflect my right attack. Before he could counter, I brought my left hand high before my face and swung the tip of the katana toward the other’s neck. The blade caught the chain of the amulet and snapped it into two. The pendant dropped within his rib cage until the broken links became snarled between the ribs and breastbone.
The undead Blade hissed and swung his weapon overhand at me. I deflected the strike with my plain katana, his blade sliding along mine with a screeching shower of sparks. Rather than bear down behind his sword as I expected, he backed off and struck again. It took all my skill to parry each and every blow without getting my fingers sliced off. Each time a strike landed, I felt the shock of the impact all the way into my shoulder joints. I’m slightly faster, but he’s much stronger, and he knows it!
The next few minutes were a flurry of strikes and parries that drove me back step by grueling step toward the iron railing that encircled the platform. Suddenly my heel struck an unyielding surface and I found myself falling backwards. Somehow I managed to cross both blades above me in time to block the descending weapon that flashed toward me.
I sat down hard on the old chest just as the Blade’s katana struck my pair. The impact sent fire flickering along his blade and thrummed through my arm bones, aggravating the pain in my right arm. I resisted the downward thrust momentarily, then brought both of my feet up and braced them against his pelvis. This shifted my center of balance, and I fell back suddenly. I took advantage of the situation and kicked upward with both of my feet, sending the skeleton up and over me and headfirst into the wall behind us. Something tinkled to the floor beside me as the bones scattered behind me, losing their cohesiveness along with the violet glow that signified the energy that had bound them together for unknown years.
Panting with nerves, I rolled sideways off the chest and staggered back, valiantly bringing my weapons up en garde. But the pile of shattered bones were immobile, the shield slowly spinning on its rim to a clattering stop. I took a few more steps back, then glanced around the chamber. At the opposite side of the platform, a bridge led to the only way out of the room, other than the way I had come in. No other pink glows manifested themselves.
But a whooshing sound behind me spun my katanas back to the remnants of the ancient Blade. A ghostly figure of a man crouched on one knee over the bones. I slipped the enchanted ring partly off my finger to eliminate the pink glow and readied for another attack, seeing the full Blades armor the other wore. Where in Oblivion did he come from? First a skeleton, now a ghost?
The phantom rose to its full height and turned toward me. The ephemeral sword he carried remained sheathed, and the shield rested at his left hip. I managed to stand my ground and hold my bladder tight as he stepped toward me.
“At long last,” his wispy voice held the subtle persuasion of the Imperials, “you have freed me.” He bowed his head to me. “I can now complete my lord’s last request.”
Cursed. He was cursed. But who is he? I glanced at the pile of bones and Blades armor behind him. “Who are you?”
“I am Rielus.” He raised his right fist in a salute to me. “Loyal Blade of the Emperor Tiber Septim. I do not know how long I have been here. It feels like an eternity.”
I did a rapid mental calculation. “The Emperor you served passed away about four hundred years ago,” I managed to regain my breath. “Long enough to feel like an eternity I suppose. Can you tell me what happened here?” What am I doing? I can’t believe I’m speaking to a ghost!
“My three companions and I were sent here by the Emperor Tiber Septim to discover what evil had defiled the holy catacombs of Sancre Tor.” The phantom shook his head. “We did not know that the Underking, who once was Zurin Arctus, had risen to take his first revenge upon his former lord. The Underking defeated us and ensnared us in evil enchantment. He bound us here to guard forever the desecrated Shrine of Tiber Septim.”
A thousand sextets of ants’ feet crawled up my back beneath the fur-lined tunic at his words. I glanced around uneasily. “Is the Underking still here?” If he is, I doubt I can defeat something so powerful.
Again the phantom shook his head, a gesture so strangely human in one so long undead. “No. He left us long ago.” He pointed toward the bridge. “But his evil will remains, blocking all who wish to pay homage at the Shrine of Tiber Septim.” His shoulders straightened in an expression of determination more real than flesh and blood. “Over the uncounted years of our slavery we have considered, no, studied our defeat. I now believe that the four of us can undo the evil Underking’s legacy. But in order to do that, I beg a favor of you, hero.”
“I’m no hero,” I answered automatically before I could stop myself. “But I am a Blade sister, and you have but to ask.” A sense of pride moved through me. Yes, I am a Blade sister, and yes, he can ask a favor of me.
“Free my brothers,” Rielus whispered. “Together we may be able to lift the Underking’s curse. Farewell! I go now to complete my duty. I shall wait for you to complete yours.”
I swung my katana vertically before my face in the Legion salute. “I shall not fail you, brother.”
He paused beside the old chest, looking down at something gleaming on the floor. “Take the amulet,” he gestured toward the golden pendant that had finally dropped from his bones at the end. “It was a gift from Casnar. Wear it if you like, or return it to Cloud Ruler Temple.”
Gods, reading this, I remember how much FUN we had discussing and writing this together!!!
DESTRI! Whereforth art thou???!!???
DESTRI! Whereforth art thou???!!???
The problem with the dual-wielding is that it is just not built into the game engine itself, so as you saw most just use the second weapon in place of a shield. I used Nicro's Dreadweave Axes for my spellsword Morrigan. I wanted to use a weapon and fight in melee sometimes, but did not want a shield. I found the offhand axe worked quite well to parry with for her.
The ones that try to use it as an actual weapon are causing the game to do some serious acrobatics that it was not intended for. So crashes are not at all surprising.
Very nice work with Julian's reflections on strategy, and making herself appear to be a novice in order to deceive her opponent into making a reckless move. Here you do not just tell us that she is an experienced fighter but show us. Too bad he survived her one good shot before figuring it out. Likewise, you continued to show it in the following battle, with her use of the Sunbird Dance and sudden reversal of momentum, and finally with her recognizing the amulet as something important, and using a bit of wrestling (if it can be called that) to ultimately remove it from him. Even if the latter was not planned, it was still pulled of wonderfully.
I managed to stand my ground and hold my bladder tight
“I’m no hero,”
Sounds like a certain red-haired Bosmer.
Yes, I am a Blade sister, and yes, he can ask a favor of me.
This was the strongest part of the episode for me. Here the weight of Julian's becoming a Blade really comes down. She is not just someone doing a favor for the Emp and his spymaster. She really is a Blade, and this is what it means.
nits:
Cursed. He was cursed. But who is he? I glanced at the pile of bones and Blades armor behind him. “Who are you?”
The bolded parts feel redundant. I think you can delete the leading But who is he? without losing anything.
“My three companions and I were sent here by the Emperor Tiber Septim to discover what evil had defiled the holy catacombs of Sancre Tor.” The phantom shook his head. “We did not know that the Underking, who once was Zurin Arctus, had risen to take his first revenge upon his former lord. The Underking defeated us and ensnared us in evil enchantment. He bound us here to guard forever the desecrated Shrine of Tiber Septim.”
There seems to be a continuity issue here. If Tiber Septim sent them, then that would mean he was still alive. But if they were defeated by Arctus and used to guard the place, how did it become a shrine where Tiber Septim was later buried? Rielus and the others would have killed everyone who entered to try to create a shrine, not to mention entomb Talos. I do not recall if it was like that in the game, but you might consider changing it to them being sent by Tiber Septim's successor.
Edit: Reads Captain Hammer's post. Ahh, never mind. Now it all makes sense.
The ones that try to use it as an actual weapon are causing the game to do some serious acrobatics that it was not intended for. So crashes are not at all surprising.
Very nice work with Julian's reflections on strategy, and making herself appear to be a novice in order to deceive her opponent into making a reckless move. Here you do not just tell us that she is an experienced fighter but show us. Too bad he survived her one good shot before figuring it out. Likewise, you continued to show it in the following battle, with her use of the Sunbird Dance and sudden reversal of momentum, and finally with her recognizing the amulet as something important, and using a bit of wrestling (if it can be called that) to ultimately remove it from him. Even if the latter was not planned, it was still pulled of wonderfully.
I managed to stand my ground and hold my bladder tight
“I’m no hero,”
Sounds like a certain red-haired Bosmer.
Yes, I am a Blade sister, and yes, he can ask a favor of me.
This was the strongest part of the episode for me. Here the weight of Julian's becoming a Blade really comes down. She is not just someone doing a favor for the Emp and his spymaster. She really is a Blade, and this is what it means.
nits:
Cursed. He was cursed. But who is he? I glanced at the pile of bones and Blades armor behind him. “Who are you?”
The bolded parts feel redundant. I think you can delete the leading But who is he? without losing anything.
“My three companions and I were sent here by the Emperor Tiber Septim to discover what evil had defiled the holy catacombs of Sancre Tor.” The phantom shook his head. “We did not know that the Underking, who once was Zurin Arctus, had risen to take his first revenge upon his former lord. The Underking defeated us and ensnared us in evil enchantment. He bound us here to guard forever the desecrated Shrine of Tiber Septim.”
There seems to be a continuity issue here. If Tiber Septim sent them, then that would mean he was still alive. But if they were defeated by Arctus and used to guard the place, how did it become a shrine where Tiber Septim was later buried? Rielus and the others would have killed everyone who entered to try to create a shrine, not to mention entomb Talos. I do not recall if it was like that in the game, but you might consider changing it to them being sent by Tiber Septim's successor.
Edit: Reads Captain Hammer's post. Ahh, never mind. Now it all makes sense.
Wonderfully done, and powerful atmosphere here!
'We faced each other for a eternally short moment.
Love the imagery here!
To borrow from and add to SubRosa:
“I’m no hero,”
Sounds like a certain red-haired Bosmer.
'I managed to stand my ground and hold my bladder tight.'
Sounds like a lesson for a certain blond-haired Bosmer.
“At long last,” his wispy voice held the subtle persuasion of the Imperials, “you have freed me.”
An amazingly effective description that the ghost was an Imperial. Wow!
“But I am a Blade sister, and you have but to ask.” A sense of pride moved through me. Yes, I am a Blade sister, and yes, he can ask a favor of me.'
Julian is associated with the Legion, Mages Guild and the Blades. It is the Blades however that I have always seen as her truest fit. It is a tribute to both Julian and your writing that this passage moves a sense of pride through all of us who have the pleasure to read it.
'We faced each other for a eternally short moment.
Love the imagery here!
To borrow from and add to SubRosa:
“I’m no hero,”
Sounds like a certain red-haired Bosmer.
'I managed to stand my ground and hold my bladder tight.'
Sounds like a lesson for a certain blond-haired Bosmer.
“At long last,” his wispy voice held the subtle persuasion of the Imperials, “you have freed me.”
An amazingly effective description that the ghost was an Imperial. Wow!
“But I am a Blade sister, and you have but to ask.” A sense of pride moved through me. Yes, I am a Blade sister, and yes, he can ask a favor of me.'
Julian is associated with the Legion, Mages Guild and the Blades. It is the Blades however that I have always seen as her truest fit. It is a tribute to both Julian and your writing that this passage moves a sense of pride through all of us who have the pleasure to read it.
Great sequence with Rielus the Undead Blade. Watching a pretty spry 400+ year-old skeleton take out a summons and then go toe-to-toe with Julian of Anvil was a very well written piece.
You do amazing work with Julian's combat techniques and mentality. And speaking from experience, I do know what it's like to train your weaker hand for combat. Though I'm a righty, I've utilized mirrored training drills to strengthen my left, and have on occasion been mistaken for a southpaw and gained some small advantage.
While I must argue that Julian would be much better off with a sword-breaker (a dagger-like weapon with notches on the forte designed to catch the edge of a slender blade like a katana), she did very well with what she had on her. Maybe this experience will teach her the value of throwing fire around like it was candy the way sorcerers, spellswords, and battlemages do.
@SubRosa: The shrine of Tiber Septim contains only the man's armor, not the body itself. It was placed in Sancre Tor to celebrate his victory there and those that fell during the attack, probably around the time Talos Stormcrown became Emperor Tiber Septim. In-game, there's an inscription that pops up if you attempt to open the doors without the key Jauffre provides stating that it was sealed in Tiber's 36th year as emperor, meaning sometime in 3E 4-5. This would be about the same time the Underking first re-emerged following the consolidation of the Empire and the first destruction of Numidium.
You do amazing work with Julian's combat techniques and mentality. And speaking from experience, I do know what it's like to train your weaker hand for combat. Though I'm a righty, I've utilized mirrored training drills to strengthen my left, and have on occasion been mistaken for a southpaw and gained some small advantage.
While I must argue that Julian would be much better off with a sword-breaker (a dagger-like weapon with notches on the forte designed to catch the edge of a slender blade like a katana), she did very well with what she had on her. Maybe this experience will teach her the value of throwing fire around like it was candy the way sorcerers, spellswords, and battlemages do.
@SubRosa: The shrine of Tiber Septim contains only the man's armor, not the body itself. It was placed in Sancre Tor to celebrate his victory there and those that fell during the attack, probably around the time Talos Stormcrown became Emperor Tiber Septim. In-game, there's an inscription that pops up if you attempt to open the doors without the key Jauffre provides stating that it was sealed in Tiber's 36th year as emperor, meaning sometime in 3E 4-5. This would be about the same time the Underking first re-emerged following the consolidation of the Empire and the first destruction of Numidium.
Dee Foxy Reynard the Blademaster, you have outdone yourself this time! that was an intense fight, made all the better by Hautee's interdiction and interpretation! I salute thee! 
With a controlled, deliberate motion he lowered the tip of his sword to the stone floor, then lifted it up. His wrist moved higher than his breastbone, until he stood at attention, hilt in front of his skeletal grin.
I did not expect that, either. That was something else! What a great touch!
If the next three battles are anything like this one was, we are going to have a chapter for the history books here! I really cannot wait for what happens next!
With a controlled, deliberate motion he lowered the tip of his sword to the stone floor, then lifted it up. His wrist moved higher than his breastbone, until he stood at attention, hilt in front of his skeletal grin.
I did not expect that, either. That was something else! What a great touch!
If the next three battles are anything like this one was, we are going to have a chapter for the history books here! I really cannot wait for what happens next!
I am in absolute awe. Rielus the swordsman gave us a stunning fight, and his skeleton way of communicating with Julian was just astonishing. Then as a ghost when he mentioned that the amulet was a gift from Casnar, no kidding I cried. And Julian is a worthy Knight Sister to this legendary Blade.
That was a good part, the fight's pace was spot on. There were long enough moments to get tactics in and then when the action did come it was fairly short and very fast.
And you even managed to work that throw in without making it seem forced (which is more than I've ever seen elsewhere). Full points for awesome, especially as it was a finisher, and it wasn't out of place.
You managed to give Casnar a good bit of personality in the short time he was in it. I look forward to meeting the others
QUOTE
I took advantage of the situation and kicked upward with both of my feet, sending the skeleton up and over me and headfirst into the wall behind us.
And you even managed to work that throw in without making it seem forced (which is more than I've ever seen elsewhere). Full points for awesome, especially as it was a finisher, and it wasn't out of place.
You managed to give Casnar a good bit of personality in the short time he was in it. I look forward to meeting the others
It makes a huge diff when you are playing on the PC and can get screens to go along with your story, I'll bet you're enjoying that !!!
@le Reynard: Yes, we had a lot of fun working on these pieces. I believe we still have one more to go? And yes, I’m wondering where Destri went!
@everyone else: Thank you for commenting on the tactics and the pacing of the fight. Dee Foxy’s expertise really shows here. There are more to come - remember there are four undead Blades total in this place.
@SubRosa: That musing of Julian’s where she recognizes their - brotherhood? Sisterhood? Siblinghood? - was a defining moment for her. Julian finally accepts that she is really a Blade, not just an impostor. For them to accept her so readily never really sat right with Julian, she who had to work so hard to be accepted into the ranks of the Legion. After all, what did she do to earn entrance into the small ranks of this elite force? All she did (in her eyes anyway) was escort the last heir to the Dragon Throne from a ruined burning city to Cloud Ruler Temple. I think that’s why she has been so compelled to carry out every task Jauffre gives her to the best of her abilities. For her (and for me) Sancre Tor is where she really earned those katanas she carries.
As for your nit, the repetition was intentional. She was so unprepared for the appearance of Rielus’s ghost and the fact that he spoke to her that she was echoing herself. I had noticed the two so close together myself, and considered eliminating one of them, but after considering the situation, decided to leave it in place to show Julian’s momentary distraction. She is normally so cool and collected, you know!
And don’t worry about your comments over the timeline. It was confusing to me too, the first time I played through this quest. Jauffre says the first Grandmaster (I have an idea who it is, but I’ll leave that for Destri, since it’s his story) sent the four greatest Blades to Sancre Tor to see what had defiled the shrine. He further explains that Tiber Septim gave the Blades his armor after the city fell to honor them for their sacrifice in the battle. They in turn interred the armor (not the man) before the tomb of Reman III. Later the Underking invaded the sacred shrine and began corrupting the place. Tiber Septim was still alive, like Hammer said. It’s doubtful whether or not he knew of the invasion, or if the first Grandmaster acted on his own initiative. At least, that’s how I understand it.
@Acadian: I’m soooo glad you recognized my nod to two certain Bosmeri (and their authors) who have encouraged Julian and I to persevere with this story. And yes, Julian has the closest ties with the Blades, even though she’s only been one for a few short months. But their unconventionality suits her just fine, whereas the strict traditions of the Legion was often stifling for her.
@Hammertime: There is a backstory to Julian’s choices in weaponry. Her Legion training is pretty standard - stand shoulder to shoulder with your comrades, shield up in the left, arming sword in the right, slash, smash and stab your way through the enemy lines. But the pilus of her second posting in Valenwood was unconventional in many ways - and he recognized her abilities and potential. Thus Blademaster Jelin took her under his wing and taught her the Sunbird Dance, which is really a philosophy rather than a fighting style. She in turn developed a rather unconventional reputation in the Legion, which is why she never advanced beyond pilus prior of the Ninth Cohort. But that’s another story.
@TK: You have the right of it - Dee Foxy has outshone himself - for now. Only he and I know what’s next, so don’t be so quick with your praise. I will tell you this, though, when I got this scene back from le Reynard, I was on the edge of my seat biting my nails reading it! It still gets my heart going even after the tenth read. The only thing missing is Wagner’s heroic music.
@Grits: The part that made you cry, where Rielus tells Julian the amulet was a gift from Casnar - that came out of my conversations with Destri about the four of them post-Interregnum. I’m glad you told me about this, because it tells me that I am capturing the emotional side of this story as well as the physical.
@Olen: That part you quoted is humbly mine. Dee Foxy obviously thought it was good enough to leave it in. I wanted to take us back to that scene in the beginning (in the very first chapter) when Glenroy was accusing Julian as being one of them and she fell on her butt backing away from him. For me, it really symbolizes how far she has come since the beginning.
@mALX: I’m enjoying it, when the computer is working! I hope to get that desktop back this week - it’s been hell without it! It’s got my school stuff on it for Pete’s sake!
The story so far: Julian has successfully freed the ghost of the first of the greatest Blades that ever lived, and learns the nature of the evil that has led to Sancre Tor being sealed off. Now she moves on to the next challenge.
Once again credit goes to Dee Foxy for his combat expertise and Destri Melarg for his characterization of the Four Greatest Blades Evah.
Chapter 26.4: The Second Guardian
Rielus’s amulet tingled beneath my mail as I entered the immense chamber at the bottom of the prison and studied its multiple levels.
After recovering the amulet, I had followed Rielus’s phantasmal form across the bridge and into a large chamber. Four passageways radiated off that immense hall, one which I had entered by, and three others. Rielus had moved to a staircase that led down from the mezzanine I stood on to a central platform, where a ghost waited. The spirit had ignored Rielus as the ancient Blade passed it on his way to another set of steps. These steps led down further to a tall set of double doors. Rielus had passed through those heavy wooden panels as if they were as ephemeral as he.
Silently I thanked my foresight for bringing Akatosh’s Fury with me. Crouched in the shelter of the passageway, my eyes scanning the mezzanine and the central dais, I strung the enchanted bow and fitted an arrow to the string. Once more I scanned the chamber, and, seeing no other spirits, eased out onto the balcony and knelt behind the stone coping.
Calling on Cieran’s training, I sighted on the ghost’s head and drew the silk back to my ear. Half a breath later, the arrow whispered its way through that greenish specter, trailing a web of energy that encompassed the hapless spirit. As its pink glow faded, I glanced around once more. Best to sweep the mezzanine and look into all these passageways first. Then I’ll decide where to go next. First I moved widdershins and peeked into the first passageway. A set of double doors at the end of a short corridor met my gaze. As I turned toward the next one, a pink glow materialized along the stone wall. Another ghost in that next passage. I stowed Akatosh’s Fury and drew Daedra Slayer, mentally visualizing the drain health spell again. Slowly I crept toward the passage and peered around the corner.
The ghost waited near a wall of tumbled boulders. Cave-in. Have to find another way inside there. Fortunately, the specter faced away from me, and I was able to approach it stealthily. It was within range of my touch spell before it alerted to the faint susurrus of my mail. Again the drain health demolished the apparition before it had time to create a frost bolt.
I returned to the mezzanine. It ended just past this corridor, and the fourth passage awaited on the far side of the room, beyond the one I had entered by. I could see no spectral light there.
First I went down to the lower set of doors. I managed to open one of them and slipped into a dark chamber that stretched away before me. Stairs led down to a center aisle that ran to a shimmering barrier. On either side, sarcophagi set into niches in the walls told me I had found the tombs. The Reman emperors are buried in Sancre Tor. Seems I’ve found their final resting place. In front of one of the coffins, Rielus knelt in the traditional Blades homage, facing the magical barrier. Without turning his head or breaking his position, his wispy voice drifted back to me. “Find my brothers. They wait behind the other doors.”
Three cells led off the lowest level below me. A skeleton, his bones outlined in blue, shambled between them. Again I recognized the Blades helmet, shield and katana. One of Rielus’s brothers. Which one? Casnar? Alain? Valdemar? Only one way to find out. I scanned the chamber from my high vantage point. I have to stay out of those three cells. They won’t give me room to maneuver with two swords. Damn! I should have picked up Rielus’s shield! With a shake of my head at my own stupidity, I cast a fortify health spell and set my bow and arrows aside.
As I watched the shambling skeleton far below me, I recognized the feeling of smugness that followed a successful battle. Careful, Julian. Just because you defeated the greatest swordsman you’ve ever met doesn’t mean this one is going to be easy. Don’t get cocky. Remember that poem Carius taught us tironii -
Justine Case was a wary girl,
A very wary girl, indeed -
She’d hatch two plans for every stand,
And hold a third one right in hand,
And just in case all three should fail,
She kept yet another in her lunch pail -
For Justine Case was a wary girl,
A very wary girl, indeed!
Crouched near the parapet overlooking the lowest level, I regarded the Blade skeleton thoughtfully. Tall. Taller than me. Those arms look frightfully long. That katana looks barely bigger than a dagger in his hand. Doubtlessly his reach is much longer than mine. With our weapons being equal, he has the advantage over me. He can smash through my defense, and he’ll be impossible to block, even if I had a shield. I can parry him, but it would be better if I can slip inside his guard.
I set my plain katana beside my bow thoughtfully. That means close work. Dagger or shortsword in my left hand. I drew the Legion dagger from its sheath at my lower back. Its triangular blade, almost as long as my forearm, was strong thanks to extra steel welds reinforcing the forte. Its sturdy, wide guard was perfect for punching fractures into jaws and ribs. He may be slow or even clumsy between strikes, if he’s like most of the big fighters I’ve seen. But I’ve got to keep from getting hit by him. He’s likely to be strong, and that can be the end of me. I’ll have to rely on my speed and agility. Move, feint, switch direction in constantly unpredictable patterns to get him to overextend himself. That’s when I’ve got to move in fast and finish him off.
Subconsciously my fingers reached for the chain holding Rielus’s amulet. I ran my fingertips along the flat links, tied together with a leather cord, my gaze still on that Blade. He’s going to hit me, and hit me hard. I’ve got to be ready for that. What can I do about it? Other than the usual fortify and restore health potions in my belt pouch?
Wait - I glanced down at my pouch. It’s hard to grab a vial out of it in a hurry. But what if I kept it around my neck, ready to hand? My pack also held several thin leather cords - tough, pliable, and ready to cobble together ripped mail or torn straps. I fumbled a vial out and examined the stopper. It could work. My fingers hooked a coil of leather out of the pouch and unrolled it. The cord was thin enough to wrap around the neck of the glass stopper. I held the vial by its plug. It’ll stay in until I pull on the vial.
I didn’t want to hang it around my neck, recalling how the tip of my blade had so easily broken the links of Rielus’s amulet when I fought him. Yet I want it close to hand, where I can grab it without looking for it. I tied the cord securely around the bung, then fastened it to one of the buckles securing the mail over my right shoulder. I can reach up with my left hand, grab the vial, pull it off the stopper and put the neck between my teeth. It would only take an instant, and I won’t have to drop the dagger to do it. I practiced hooking the small vial with the little finger of my dagger hand while keeping the blade pointed out, until I was satisfied that muscle memory was established. That’s it. It’ll swing out of the way if struck by mistake, but it won’t go flying over my shoulder, either.
Briefly I considered moving through the exercises of the Sunbird Dance, but decided against it. No point in alerting him of my presence before I’m ready. Instead I settled for visualizing the movements. “When you must be absolutely still, use your mind. It is your most powerful weapon and your strongest skill. Your muscles are only as nimble as your thoughts.” Jelin’s voice echoed in the silence of the immense chamber.
With a final glance at the patrolling skeleton, I reviewed my tactics one more time. Confront him, then move fast into him. Not a full charge, just a fast walk under total control. If he stands and waits for me, I’ll stop just out of reach and get him to strike first. Once he’s overextended, I’ll slip past his guard and charge in. If he swings wildly at me, I’ll wait until his arm is back for that overhand strike. Then I’ll duck in fast with the dagger up en garde and Daedra Slayer straight in a lunge strike. It should be a one-thrust kill. Time it right, and it’ll be over fast.
With the dagger in my left hand and Daedra Slayer ready, I managed to creep down the stairs before being spotted by the cursed Blade. As he closed on me, I noticed the faint glow that encompassed the blue and gold round shield he carried. Damn. I should have expected something magical. Then I put all extraneous thoughts aside and focused completely on the tall skeleton.
Which was just as well. I came closer to death in the next minute than I had in a very long, long time.
And yes, I’m wondering where Destri went! @everyone else: Thank you for commenting on the tactics and the pacing of the fight. Dee Foxy’s expertise really shows here. There are more to come - remember there are four undead Blades total in this place.
@SubRosa: That musing of Julian’s where she recognizes their - brotherhood? Sisterhood? Siblinghood? - was a defining moment for her. Julian finally accepts that she is really a Blade, not just an impostor. For them to accept her so readily never really sat right with Julian, she who had to work so hard to be accepted into the ranks of the Legion. After all, what did she do to earn entrance into the small ranks of this elite force? All she did (in her eyes anyway) was escort the last heir to the Dragon Throne from a ruined burning city to Cloud Ruler Temple. I think that’s why she has been so compelled to carry out every task Jauffre gives her to the best of her abilities. For her (and for me) Sancre Tor is where she really earned those katanas she carries.
As for your nit, the repetition was intentional. She was so unprepared for the appearance of Rielus’s ghost and the fact that he spoke to her that she was echoing herself. I had noticed the two so close together myself, and considered eliminating one of them, but after considering the situation, decided to leave it in place to show Julian’s momentary distraction. She is normally so cool and collected, you know!
And don’t worry about your comments over the timeline. It was confusing to me too, the first time I played through this quest. Jauffre says the first Grandmaster (I have an idea who it is, but I’ll leave that for Destri, since it’s his story) sent the four greatest Blades to Sancre Tor to see what had defiled the shrine. He further explains that Tiber Septim gave the Blades his armor after the city fell to honor them for their sacrifice in the battle. They in turn interred the armor (not the man) before the tomb of Reman III. Later the Underking invaded the sacred shrine and began corrupting the place. Tiber Septim was still alive, like Hammer said. It’s doubtful whether or not he knew of the invasion, or if the first Grandmaster acted on his own initiative. At least, that’s how I understand it.
@Acadian: I’m soooo glad you recognized my nod to two certain Bosmeri (and their authors) who have encouraged Julian and I to persevere with this story. And yes, Julian has the closest ties with the Blades, even though she’s only been one for a few short months. But their unconventionality suits her just fine, whereas the strict traditions of the Legion was often stifling for her.
@Hammertime: There is a backstory to Julian’s choices in weaponry. Her Legion training is pretty standard - stand shoulder to shoulder with your comrades, shield up in the left, arming sword in the right, slash, smash and stab your way through the enemy lines. But the pilus of her second posting in Valenwood was unconventional in many ways - and he recognized her abilities and potential. Thus Blademaster Jelin took her under his wing and taught her the Sunbird Dance, which is really a philosophy rather than a fighting style. She in turn developed a rather unconventional reputation in the Legion, which is why she never advanced beyond pilus prior of the Ninth Cohort. But that’s another story.
@TK: You have the right of it - Dee Foxy has outshone himself - for now. Only he and I know what’s next, so don’t be so quick with your praise. I will tell you this, though, when I got this scene back from le Reynard, I was on the edge of my seat biting my nails reading it! It still gets my heart going even after the tenth read. The only thing missing is Wagner’s heroic music.
@Grits: The part that made you cry, where Rielus tells Julian the amulet was a gift from Casnar - that came out of my conversations with Destri about the four of them post-Interregnum. I’m glad you told me about this, because it tells me that I am capturing the emotional side of this story as well as the physical.
@Olen: That part you quoted is humbly mine. Dee Foxy obviously thought it was good enough to leave it in. I wanted to take us back to that scene in the beginning (in the very first chapter) when Glenroy was accusing Julian as being one of them and she fell on her butt backing away from him. For me, it really symbolizes how far she has come since the beginning.
@mALX: I’m enjoying it, when the computer is working! I hope to get that desktop back this week - it’s been hell without it! It’s got my school stuff on it for Pete’s sake!
The story so far: Julian has successfully freed the ghost of the first of the greatest Blades that ever lived, and learns the nature of the evil that has led to Sancre Tor being sealed off. Now she moves on to the next challenge.
Once again credit goes to Dee Foxy for his combat expertise and Destri Melarg for his characterization of the Four Greatest Blades Evah.
Chapter 26.4: The Second Guardian
Rielus’s amulet tingled beneath my mail as I entered the immense chamber at the bottom of the prison and studied its multiple levels.
After recovering the amulet, I had followed Rielus’s phantasmal form across the bridge and into a large chamber. Four passageways radiated off that immense hall, one which I had entered by, and three others. Rielus had moved to a staircase that led down from the mezzanine I stood on to a central platform, where a ghost waited. The spirit had ignored Rielus as the ancient Blade passed it on his way to another set of steps. These steps led down further to a tall set of double doors. Rielus had passed through those heavy wooden panels as if they were as ephemeral as he.
Silently I thanked my foresight for bringing Akatosh’s Fury with me. Crouched in the shelter of the passageway, my eyes scanning the mezzanine and the central dais, I strung the enchanted bow and fitted an arrow to the string. Once more I scanned the chamber, and, seeing no other spirits, eased out onto the balcony and knelt behind the stone coping.
Calling on Cieran’s training, I sighted on the ghost’s head and drew the silk back to my ear. Half a breath later, the arrow whispered its way through that greenish specter, trailing a web of energy that encompassed the hapless spirit. As its pink glow faded, I glanced around once more. Best to sweep the mezzanine and look into all these passageways first. Then I’ll decide where to go next. First I moved widdershins and peeked into the first passageway. A set of double doors at the end of a short corridor met my gaze. As I turned toward the next one, a pink glow materialized along the stone wall. Another ghost in that next passage. I stowed Akatosh’s Fury and drew Daedra Slayer, mentally visualizing the drain health spell again. Slowly I crept toward the passage and peered around the corner.
The ghost waited near a wall of tumbled boulders. Cave-in. Have to find another way inside there. Fortunately, the specter faced away from me, and I was able to approach it stealthily. It was within range of my touch spell before it alerted to the faint susurrus of my mail. Again the drain health demolished the apparition before it had time to create a frost bolt.
I returned to the mezzanine. It ended just past this corridor, and the fourth passage awaited on the far side of the room, beyond the one I had entered by. I could see no spectral light there.
First I went down to the lower set of doors. I managed to open one of them and slipped into a dark chamber that stretched away before me. Stairs led down to a center aisle that ran to a shimmering barrier. On either side, sarcophagi set into niches in the walls told me I had found the tombs. The Reman emperors are buried in Sancre Tor. Seems I’ve found their final resting place. In front of one of the coffins, Rielus knelt in the traditional Blades homage, facing the magical barrier. Without turning his head or breaking his position, his wispy voice drifted back to me. “Find my brothers. They wait behind the other doors.”
Three cells led off the lowest level below me. A skeleton, his bones outlined in blue, shambled between them. Again I recognized the Blades helmet, shield and katana. One of Rielus’s brothers. Which one? Casnar? Alain? Valdemar? Only one way to find out. I scanned the chamber from my high vantage point. I have to stay out of those three cells. They won’t give me room to maneuver with two swords. Damn! I should have picked up Rielus’s shield! With a shake of my head at my own stupidity, I cast a fortify health spell and set my bow and arrows aside.
As I watched the shambling skeleton far below me, I recognized the feeling of smugness that followed a successful battle. Careful, Julian. Just because you defeated the greatest swordsman you’ve ever met doesn’t mean this one is going to be easy. Don’t get cocky. Remember that poem Carius taught us tironii -
Justine Case was a wary girl,
A very wary girl, indeed -
She’d hatch two plans for every stand,
And hold a third one right in hand,
And just in case all three should fail,
She kept yet another in her lunch pail -
For Justine Case was a wary girl,
A very wary girl, indeed!
Crouched near the parapet overlooking the lowest level, I regarded the Blade skeleton thoughtfully. Tall. Taller than me. Those arms look frightfully long. That katana looks barely bigger than a dagger in his hand. Doubtlessly his reach is much longer than mine. With our weapons being equal, he has the advantage over me. He can smash through my defense, and he’ll be impossible to block, even if I had a shield. I can parry him, but it would be better if I can slip inside his guard.
I set my plain katana beside my bow thoughtfully. That means close work. Dagger or shortsword in my left hand. I drew the Legion dagger from its sheath at my lower back. Its triangular blade, almost as long as my forearm, was strong thanks to extra steel welds reinforcing the forte. Its sturdy, wide guard was perfect for punching fractures into jaws and ribs. He may be slow or even clumsy between strikes, if he’s like most of the big fighters I’ve seen. But I’ve got to keep from getting hit by him. He’s likely to be strong, and that can be the end of me. I’ll have to rely on my speed and agility. Move, feint, switch direction in constantly unpredictable patterns to get him to overextend himself. That’s when I’ve got to move in fast and finish him off.
Subconsciously my fingers reached for the chain holding Rielus’s amulet. I ran my fingertips along the flat links, tied together with a leather cord, my gaze still on that Blade. He’s going to hit me, and hit me hard. I’ve got to be ready for that. What can I do about it? Other than the usual fortify and restore health potions in my belt pouch?
Wait - I glanced down at my pouch. It’s hard to grab a vial out of it in a hurry. But what if I kept it around my neck, ready to hand? My pack also held several thin leather cords - tough, pliable, and ready to cobble together ripped mail or torn straps. I fumbled a vial out and examined the stopper. It could work. My fingers hooked a coil of leather out of the pouch and unrolled it. The cord was thin enough to wrap around the neck of the glass stopper. I held the vial by its plug. It’ll stay in until I pull on the vial.
I didn’t want to hang it around my neck, recalling how the tip of my blade had so easily broken the links of Rielus’s amulet when I fought him. Yet I want it close to hand, where I can grab it without looking for it. I tied the cord securely around the bung, then fastened it to one of the buckles securing the mail over my right shoulder. I can reach up with my left hand, grab the vial, pull it off the stopper and put the neck between my teeth. It would only take an instant, and I won’t have to drop the dagger to do it. I practiced hooking the small vial with the little finger of my dagger hand while keeping the blade pointed out, until I was satisfied that muscle memory was established. That’s it. It’ll swing out of the way if struck by mistake, but it won’t go flying over my shoulder, either.
Briefly I considered moving through the exercises of the Sunbird Dance, but decided against it. No point in alerting him of my presence before I’m ready. Instead I settled for visualizing the movements. “When you must be absolutely still, use your mind. It is your most powerful weapon and your strongest skill. Your muscles are only as nimble as your thoughts.” Jelin’s voice echoed in the silence of the immense chamber.
With a final glance at the patrolling skeleton, I reviewed my tactics one more time. Confront him, then move fast into him. Not a full charge, just a fast walk under total control. If he stands and waits for me, I’ll stop just out of reach and get him to strike first. Once he’s overextended, I’ll slip past his guard and charge in. If he swings wildly at me, I’ll wait until his arm is back for that overhand strike. Then I’ll duck in fast with the dagger up en garde and Daedra Slayer straight in a lunge strike. It should be a one-thrust kill. Time it right, and it’ll be over fast.
With the dagger in my left hand and Daedra Slayer ready, I managed to creep down the stairs before being spotted by the cursed Blade. As he closed on me, I noticed the faint glow that encompassed the blue and gold round shield he carried. Damn. I should have expected something magical. Then I put all extraneous thoughts aside and focused completely on the tall skeleton.
Which was just as well. I came closer to death in the next minute than I had in a very long, long time.
'I sighted on the ghost’s head and drew the silk back to my ear. Half a breath later, the arrow whispered its way through that greenish specter, trailing a web of energy that encompassed the hapless spirit. As its pink glow faded, I glanced around once more.'
You go, girl! This got my heart pounding! Julian only has a little round human ear to pull her silk back to, but by Mara, she sure took care of that ghost with one arrow!
This episode really had me smiling for a couple reasons. One was the passage above that I can so identify with. The other being Julian's wise and extremely detailed rumination and careful planning for her pending strike. The poem she recalled was most appropriate for the cautious (ie: those who survive). I can really identify with this, for we like to say:
I so hope her preparations pay off for her, although the foreboding last line is certainly cause for concern.
I liked how Julian, frustrated by the challenges offered by potions, set her mind to crafting a solution - or at least what should be a very helpful improvement.
Oh, this Sancre Tor portion of Julian's story was so very worth waiting for! *twirl*
You go, girl! This got my heart pounding! Julian only has a little round human ear to pull her silk back to, but by Mara, she sure took care of that ghost with one arrow!
This episode really had me smiling for a couple reasons. One was the passage above that I can so identify with. The other being Julian's wise and extremely detailed rumination and careful planning for her pending strike. The poem she recalled was most appropriate for the cautious (ie: those who survive). I can really identify with this, for we like to say:
There are old pilots and there are bold pilots, but there are no old bold pilots.
I so hope her preparations pay off for her, although the foreboding last line is certainly cause for concern.
I liked how Julian, frustrated by the challenges offered by potions, set her mind to crafting a solution - or at least what should be a very helpful improvement.
Oh, this Sancre Tor portion of Julian's story was so very worth waiting for! *twirl*
Cue Ominious Music!!! Bring up the Church Organ volume! Step up the drums in the background!
A HARD RAIN'S A-GONNA FALL!!!!
A HARD RAIN'S A-GONNA FALL!!!!
So much wisdom and experience goes into Julian’s plan. I enjoyed listening to her every thought. And that last one was chilling! Battle music ready!!
Battle music ready!!
Reading this wonderful novel once again. I will have much more to say when I get further along, but it is so pleasant to have 200+ pages available... A cold glass of tea, a warm cat--- and Julian being her inimitable self. Perfect.
ETA- Just added the content to my Kindle. Now I can read much more easily. Will be following this practice with a number of other stories, also. Sometimes, being a tech-nerd has its advantages....
ETA- Just added the content to my Kindle. Now I can read much more easily. Will be following this practice with a number of other stories, also. Sometimes, being a tech-nerd has its advantages....
Given the size of the second ghostly Blade, I am guessing that is Voldemort Valdemar. Once again, Julian shows her experience by planning out how she will face him. The Justine Case song was perfectly delightful at that.
One question that immediately came to mind after you showed Julian using her bow to kill a ghost earlier in the segment, is why not use it against the undead Blades? If nothing else it could give her one good strike from surprise, and force them to come to her.
One question that immediately came to mind after you showed Julian using her bow to kill a ghost earlier in the segment, is why not use it against the undead Blades? If nothing else it could give her one good strike from surprise, and force them to come to her.
Oh noes! Cliff is hung yet again!
Julian did a very good job with her planning out how she would be doing battle with that skellie. Inspired idea with the potions!
Julian did a very good job with her planning out how she would be doing battle with that skellie. Inspired idea with the potions!
Aaargh cliff should be shot, hung and quartered!!! im on the hunt 
H.E.R I have just finished reading the whole story once again, and once again Im drawn into the story. and once again you leave us a cliffy...
S.G.M!!!
H.E.R I have just finished reading the whole story once again, and once again Im drawn into the story. and once again you leave us a cliffy...
S.G.M!!!
Sorry it took so long to get over here and read, this month has been unbearably hectic so far. GAAAAAH !!! A cliffhanger !!! I love Sancre Tor, it is fun at any level !! Great Write !!
@Acadian: That passage you quoted is a nod to our favorite blond Bravilian Bosmer bowgirl. Glad you picked up on it! And that Justine Case jingle is thanks to our warrior poet of Chorrol, Dee Foxy. I knew you would enjoy the planning portion - I liked it too.
@DeeFox: Now let that hard rain fall!
@Grits: Time for the battle music! Go ahead and turn it on.
@treydog: I would like to know how you added Julian’s story to your Kindle? I’d like to something similar with some of the other stories on the forum, but don’t want to include all the comments (though sometimes they’re as much fun as the story itself!). And I’m glad Julian’s story really holds up to re-reading. Thanks for that validation!
@SubRosa: You’ll see if your guess to the skelly’s identity is correct. Good point about using the enchanted bow on the skeleton. It’s been my in game experience that arrows, with or without enchantment, are pretty useless against these guys. The only thing that brings them down quickly is a good blow from a blunt instrument. As Julian isn’t in the habit of carrying a mace or axe, she has to settle for her nice katanas. And against these particular skeletons, magic didn’t seem to give much of an edge. I like to consider them more durable than your usual skelly - partly because of their life-force (hey, the four greatest Blades that ever lived!) and partly because of the Underking’s skill.
@TK: Don’t worry, Cliff is just fine. Yes, the idea with the potions is quite inspired. We’ll see just how useful it is.
@Doommeister: Don’t hurt my Cliff! He’s actually quite useful! I’m glad to see you’re all caught up now and loving it.
@mALX: Glad to see you’re continuing to read this. Yes, Sancre Tor is one of my favorite quests, too.
Time to let Cliff out of the hangman’s noose. In Sancre Tor, Julian has just confronted her second undead Blade. Now we learn just how good this freakishly large skeleton is. Again, I must give due credit to Dee Foxy for his combat expertise and to Destri Melarg for his characterization of the four Greatest Blades ever.
Chapter 26.5: The Imprisoned Nord
The confrontation began as I expected. The undead Blade drew back his sword and charged. I started my sprint just as the sword began its deadly descent and ducked inside his guard with Daedra Slayer thrusting straight before me in a single, explosive and fluid motion.
Then the skeleton did the unexpected. He pivoted ninety degrees to the right around his right foot. His katana dropped sharply to his chest, its forte neatly parrying my blade. With a speed that shocked me, he continued the movement of his parry, flicking his wrist in a smooth deflection over and downward. His katana slipped over mine, then with a second flick of his wrist his weapon whipped into a savage backhanded slash straight at my exposed throat.
Only my experience combined with my total concentration on the combat saved me. Unconsciously I dove to the floor, the only possible way to counter the attack from my hopelessly unbalanced posture at the end of my lunge. When my back struck the floor I rolled away with both my weapons crossed in front of me for protection. Normally it would have gained me half a dagger’s length of protective space against an opponent with the same reach as mine.
This guardian’s range exceeded mine by the length of my dagger.
That katana flashed again toward my throat as I rolled on the floor and forced apart my own blades as if they were made of paper instead of steel. His sword tip reached for my throat, but caught on the glass vial I had earlier attached to the shoulder buckle nearest my neck. White hot pain seared through the junction of my neck and shoulder as the skeleton’s weapon smashed the bottle open and sliced into the muscle just above the mail collar.
Jelin’s hard training saved me then. In spite of the close call, my body kept rolling away from the guardian. Obviously he had anticipated I would duck right, but I had gone left. His second strike slammed into the stones beside me, sparks flying.
Somehow I gained my feet and backed away, blinking hard against the pain. The undead Blade swiveled to face me, his sword point aimed at me, his knees flexed into a half-crouch. He tossed his shield to the ground and presented his side to me while resting his other hand on his hip.
I narrowed my eyes at him. He’s using that katana like a rapier. His wristwork is excellent. I never expected him to be so quick and nimble with his sword, in spite of his greater size.
“The touch is the most difficult element of bladework to understand and perfect,” Jelin’s voice sounded again in my memory as I stood back warily. “As your blades slide along each other, mastery of the touch will enable you to sense your opponent’s strength, which side he favors, which strokes and tactics he prefers, and how fast and sensitive his wristwork will be. But my words are meaningless. Until your sweat is red instead of white, until your body memorizes this from repetition, this will not become part of your heart and soul. Practice!”
I presented my own side to his and advanced slowly, then reached over in a half-lunge until our blades touched. My mind empty of thought, instinct and training took over. Our blades crossed and tested each other. His weapon tried to slide, lever and spin mine out, I countered each move with combinations of my own. I began to understand his techniques, his strengths and his preferences.
He’s been trained by someone a lot faster and shorter than him. That’s why he doesn’t want to use the full length lunge, and why he aims for my head every time. He protects his knees and wrists. His guard is slightly lower than typical. He doesn’t want to perform a timed thrust counterattack. And his training seems to be rigid, in a narrow back and forth training step. Let’s see how he copes with a wide open fluidity —
Now that I had his rhythm, I began to throw him off. I juggled my weapons between my hands, Daedra Slayer ending up in my left and my dagger in my right. I tapped his sword point left, right, then left and right again. I circled him the entire time, switching directions at unpredictable intervals.
He fell into the classic defense, using his longer reach to keep me at bay. I slowly maneuvered him to the side of the chamber, his sword arm facing the wall. I stamped my foot and lunged forward. Daedra Slayer sent flames flickering along his sword as I snapped it to the wall.
He reacted exactly the way I wanted him to. The skeleton parried my probing lunge and leaped sideways away from the constricting stones at his side.
I jumped too, but not back to the center. Instead I slid down to the floor near the wall and kicked against it into a full lunge, my head down and my arm fully extended. My enchanted katana aimed at his pelvis.
The ideal counter for it was a straight thrust downwards, but the undead Blade hesitated for a fatal instant. If he missed, his weapon would hit the wall instead of air. Daedra Slayer slid beneath his guard and smashed through his pelvis. The curve of his hip bone guided the tip of my katana into the base of his spine.
Splinters of bone flew everywhere as he dropped like a tree. But the tall skeleton wasn’t finished. He reached out with his free hand and seized my left wrist. His momentum drew me down on top of him, his sword flying away from us. The bones of his right hand caught my throat and closed in a tight grip.
Akatosh! He’s strong! Lights exploded in my brain as I dropped Daedra Slayer. I slammed a drain health spell into him out of desperation, but it barely slowed him down.
But the distraction of the spell gave me just the tiniest opening I needed to bring up my Legion dagger. I smashed repeatedly at his arm with both blade and guard until I heard and felt bone snapping, but that relentless pressure on my throat only grew. The last of the air gone from my lungs, black spots danced in front of his white visage until they metamorphosed into white spots against black eye sockets.
Wheezing and gasping filled my ears as I found myself falling onto my shoulder beside the jumbled bones. My vision slowly cleared and the spots coalesced into the shadowed forming the high ceiling above me. My starved lungs slowly refilled with stale air as the combined scents of bone dust, sweat, and blood filled my nostrils. The wound in my right shoulder sent argent slivers through my body as a warm trickle ran down my arm.
But I couldn’t rest. I had another Blade to speak to. Recovering Daedra Slayer, I used it for support and struggled back to my feet in time to see the ghost materialize. Much as Rielus did, this phantom crouched over his bones, then rose to his full height. Where Rielus stood just a couple centimeters shorter than me, this one towered over me. Just like Burd. Has to be Valdemar, the Nord.
“I know you . . . you freed me.” He turned and met my gaze from beneath the spectral helm. Yes, that’s a Skyrim accent. One I’ve only heard among the oldsters in the remotest villages, though.
“You must be Valdemar,” I answered, bringing Daedra Slayer up before my face in the Legion salute. “And yes, you’re free to carry out your duty.”
An ephemeral fist clanged with an echo against an ephemeral breastplate. “I am grateful to you, hero,” he greeted me. “Has eternity ended?”
“No,” I shook my head at the odd question. “Four hundred years have gone by since you were enslaved. It may seem like an eternity, but it isn’t.”
“I see,” the phantom’s whisper turned depressed. “So the curse is not yet lifted.”
“It will be, soon,” I put as much conviction into my voice as I could. Though I really don’t know what I’m doing here. How is destroying their skeletons freeing them? Yet there is no question, their spirits are freed when I break their ancient bones. And these bones are proving hard to break. “Once I have your brothers freed, the four of you can complete what you were sent to do.”
“I do not speak of the curse of the Underking,” Valdemar’s wispy voice held a profound sadness. “I speak of one older, one that applies only to me.” His face turned away from me as he looked down at the shattered bones. “The one that curses me to an eternity in the company of the undead.”
I recalled something of the beliefs of Skyrim. “If I can help it, you will see the halls of Sovngarde when we are done here.” Hope shimmered through his gaze. Suddenly I wished I could clasp his shoulder in reassurance, as one soldier to another. I had to settle for less. “As your Blade sister, I swear it on the blood of Talos himself. In any case, Rielus awaits you at the Shrine of Tiber Septim.”
“He is free?” Valdemar’s shimmering visage smiled. “Thanks again, hero. I go to join him. Free my remaining brothers from this eternal slavery, so we may complete our lord’s bidding.” Again he saluted me, then gestured at his bones. “Find and take my shield. Alain gave it to me when they took away my mace and made me fight with this katana,” he touched the hilt at his left hip. “Carry the shield with honor, if you choose. Or bring it back to Cloud Ruler Temple.”
@DeeFox: Now let that hard rain fall!
@Grits: Time for the battle music! Go ahead and turn it on.
@treydog: I would like to know how you added Julian’s story to your Kindle? I’d like to something similar with some of the other stories on the forum, but don’t want to include all the comments (though sometimes they’re as much fun as the story itself!). And I’m glad Julian’s story really holds up to re-reading. Thanks for that validation!
@SubRosa: You’ll see if your guess to the skelly’s identity is correct. Good point about using the enchanted bow on the skeleton. It’s been my in game experience that arrows, with or without enchantment, are pretty useless against these guys. The only thing that brings them down quickly is a good blow from a blunt instrument. As Julian isn’t in the habit of carrying a mace or axe, she has to settle for her nice katanas. And against these particular skeletons, magic didn’t seem to give much of an edge. I like to consider them more durable than your usual skelly - partly because of their life-force (hey, the four greatest Blades that ever lived!) and partly because of the Underking’s skill.
@TK: Don’t worry, Cliff is just fine. Yes, the idea with the potions is quite inspired. We’ll see just how useful it is.
@Doommeister: Don’t hurt my Cliff! He’s actually quite useful! I’m glad to see you’re all caught up now and loving it.
@mALX: Glad to see you’re continuing to read this. Yes, Sancre Tor is one of my favorite quests, too.
Time to let Cliff out of the hangman’s noose. In Sancre Tor, Julian has just confronted her second undead Blade. Now we learn just how good this freakishly large skeleton is. Again, I must give due credit to Dee Foxy for his combat expertise and to Destri Melarg for his characterization of the four Greatest Blades ever.
Chapter 26.5: The Imprisoned Nord
The confrontation began as I expected. The undead Blade drew back his sword and charged. I started my sprint just as the sword began its deadly descent and ducked inside his guard with Daedra Slayer thrusting straight before me in a single, explosive and fluid motion.
Then the skeleton did the unexpected. He pivoted ninety degrees to the right around his right foot. His katana dropped sharply to his chest, its forte neatly parrying my blade. With a speed that shocked me, he continued the movement of his parry, flicking his wrist in a smooth deflection over and downward. His katana slipped over mine, then with a second flick of his wrist his weapon whipped into a savage backhanded slash straight at my exposed throat.
Only my experience combined with my total concentration on the combat saved me. Unconsciously I dove to the floor, the only possible way to counter the attack from my hopelessly unbalanced posture at the end of my lunge. When my back struck the floor I rolled away with both my weapons crossed in front of me for protection. Normally it would have gained me half a dagger’s length of protective space against an opponent with the same reach as mine.
This guardian’s range exceeded mine by the length of my dagger.
That katana flashed again toward my throat as I rolled on the floor and forced apart my own blades as if they were made of paper instead of steel. His sword tip reached for my throat, but caught on the glass vial I had earlier attached to the shoulder buckle nearest my neck. White hot pain seared through the junction of my neck and shoulder as the skeleton’s weapon smashed the bottle open and sliced into the muscle just above the mail collar.
Jelin’s hard training saved me then. In spite of the close call, my body kept rolling away from the guardian. Obviously he had anticipated I would duck right, but I had gone left. His second strike slammed into the stones beside me, sparks flying.
Somehow I gained my feet and backed away, blinking hard against the pain. The undead Blade swiveled to face me, his sword point aimed at me, his knees flexed into a half-crouch. He tossed his shield to the ground and presented his side to me while resting his other hand on his hip.
I narrowed my eyes at him. He’s using that katana like a rapier. His wristwork is excellent. I never expected him to be so quick and nimble with his sword, in spite of his greater size.
“The touch is the most difficult element of bladework to understand and perfect,” Jelin’s voice sounded again in my memory as I stood back warily. “As your blades slide along each other, mastery of the touch will enable you to sense your opponent’s strength, which side he favors, which strokes and tactics he prefers, and how fast and sensitive his wristwork will be. But my words are meaningless. Until your sweat is red instead of white, until your body memorizes this from repetition, this will not become part of your heart and soul. Practice!”
I presented my own side to his and advanced slowly, then reached over in a half-lunge until our blades touched. My mind empty of thought, instinct and training took over. Our blades crossed and tested each other. His weapon tried to slide, lever and spin mine out, I countered each move with combinations of my own. I began to understand his techniques, his strengths and his preferences.
He’s been trained by someone a lot faster and shorter than him. That’s why he doesn’t want to use the full length lunge, and why he aims for my head every time. He protects his knees and wrists. His guard is slightly lower than typical. He doesn’t want to perform a timed thrust counterattack. And his training seems to be rigid, in a narrow back and forth training step. Let’s see how he copes with a wide open fluidity —
Now that I had his rhythm, I began to throw him off. I juggled my weapons between my hands, Daedra Slayer ending up in my left and my dagger in my right. I tapped his sword point left, right, then left and right again. I circled him the entire time, switching directions at unpredictable intervals.
He fell into the classic defense, using his longer reach to keep me at bay. I slowly maneuvered him to the side of the chamber, his sword arm facing the wall. I stamped my foot and lunged forward. Daedra Slayer sent flames flickering along his sword as I snapped it to the wall.
He reacted exactly the way I wanted him to. The skeleton parried my probing lunge and leaped sideways away from the constricting stones at his side.
I jumped too, but not back to the center. Instead I slid down to the floor near the wall and kicked against it into a full lunge, my head down and my arm fully extended. My enchanted katana aimed at his pelvis.
The ideal counter for it was a straight thrust downwards, but the undead Blade hesitated for a fatal instant. If he missed, his weapon would hit the wall instead of air. Daedra Slayer slid beneath his guard and smashed through his pelvis. The curve of his hip bone guided the tip of my katana into the base of his spine.
Splinters of bone flew everywhere as he dropped like a tree. But the tall skeleton wasn’t finished. He reached out with his free hand and seized my left wrist. His momentum drew me down on top of him, his sword flying away from us. The bones of his right hand caught my throat and closed in a tight grip.
Akatosh! He’s strong! Lights exploded in my brain as I dropped Daedra Slayer. I slammed a drain health spell into him out of desperation, but it barely slowed him down.
But the distraction of the spell gave me just the tiniest opening I needed to bring up my Legion dagger. I smashed repeatedly at his arm with both blade and guard until I heard and felt bone snapping, but that relentless pressure on my throat only grew. The last of the air gone from my lungs, black spots danced in front of his white visage until they metamorphosed into white spots against black eye sockets.
Wheezing and gasping filled my ears as I found myself falling onto my shoulder beside the jumbled bones. My vision slowly cleared and the spots coalesced into the shadowed forming the high ceiling above me. My starved lungs slowly refilled with stale air as the combined scents of bone dust, sweat, and blood filled my nostrils. The wound in my right shoulder sent argent slivers through my body as a warm trickle ran down my arm.
But I couldn’t rest. I had another Blade to speak to. Recovering Daedra Slayer, I used it for support and struggled back to my feet in time to see the ghost materialize. Much as Rielus did, this phantom crouched over his bones, then rose to his full height. Where Rielus stood just a couple centimeters shorter than me, this one towered over me. Just like Burd. Has to be Valdemar, the Nord.
“I know you . . . you freed me.” He turned and met my gaze from beneath the spectral helm. Yes, that’s a Skyrim accent. One I’ve only heard among the oldsters in the remotest villages, though.
“You must be Valdemar,” I answered, bringing Daedra Slayer up before my face in the Legion salute. “And yes, you’re free to carry out your duty.”
An ephemeral fist clanged with an echo against an ephemeral breastplate. “I am grateful to you, hero,” he greeted me. “Has eternity ended?”
“No,” I shook my head at the odd question. “Four hundred years have gone by since you were enslaved. It may seem like an eternity, but it isn’t.”
“I see,” the phantom’s whisper turned depressed. “So the curse is not yet lifted.”
“It will be, soon,” I put as much conviction into my voice as I could. Though I really don’t know what I’m doing here. How is destroying their skeletons freeing them? Yet there is no question, their spirits are freed when I break their ancient bones. And these bones are proving hard to break. “Once I have your brothers freed, the four of you can complete what you were sent to do.”
“I do not speak of the curse of the Underking,” Valdemar’s wispy voice held a profound sadness. “I speak of one older, one that applies only to me.” His face turned away from me as he looked down at the shattered bones. “The one that curses me to an eternity in the company of the undead.”
I recalled something of the beliefs of Skyrim. “If I can help it, you will see the halls of Sovngarde when we are done here.” Hope shimmered through his gaze. Suddenly I wished I could clasp his shoulder in reassurance, as one soldier to another. I had to settle for less. “As your Blade sister, I swear it on the blood of Talos himself. In any case, Rielus awaits you at the Shrine of Tiber Septim.”
“He is free?” Valdemar’s shimmering visage smiled. “Thanks again, hero. I go to join him. Free my remaining brothers from this eternal slavery, so we may complete our lord’s bidding.” Again he saluted me, then gestured at his bones. “Find and take my shield. Alain gave it to me when they took away my mace and made me fight with this katana,” he touched the hilt at his left hip. “Carry the shield with honor, if you choose. Or bring it back to Cloud Ruler Temple.”
QUOTE
He tossed his shield to the ground...
This bit surprised me, knowing the enchantment on the shield. But the style of swordplay that ensued wasn't sword-and-board stuff, so it made sense in the end. It was almost as if he was preserving the shield for the victor.
At this stage I'm usually busy with my repair hammers. Did Julian bring any?
Okay, finally getting caught up on my Fan-Fic reading-and-commenting, and what present awaits me? A post from the Rider of High Dressage, with Nordly combat to boot!
I am thoroughly enjoying Julian's sojourn through Sancre Tor. Her combat skills are really showing through, and her physical progression from the run-down addict in the prison cell to formidable Redgaurd Swordswoman is, in simple words, great.
Or was that just a single simple word? We need a grammar professor!
Nit:
It appears as though the forum is turning itself around now, spitting back words formed from previous acts of theft!
I am thoroughly enjoying Julian's sojourn through Sancre Tor. Her combat skills are really showing through, and her physical progression from the run-down addict in the prison cell to formidable Redgaurd Swordswoman is, in simple words, great.
Or was that just a single simple word? We need a grammar professor!
Nit:
QUOTE
Unconsciously I dove to the floor, the the only possible way to counter the attack
It appears as though the forum is turning itself around now, spitting back words formed from previous acts of theft!
Another heart pounding fight! That potion she rigged up in the last epsisode helped, but not like we all expected.
'Until your sweat is red instead of white, until your body memorizes this from repetition, this will not become part of your heart and soul.'
Beautiful!
You passion for the Sancre Tor storyline is obvious and so very understandable, for you very effectively infect your readers with it as well. Those four old Blades are quite something, are they not? One cannot help but swell up with pride for Julian as she moves toward her destiny as a Blade Sister.
'Until your sweat is red instead of white, until your body memorizes this from repetition, this will not become part of your heart and soul.'
Beautiful!
You passion for the Sancre Tor storyline is obvious and so very understandable, for you very effectively infect your readers with it as well. Those four old Blades are quite something, are they not? One cannot help but swell up with pride for Julian as she moves toward her destiny as a Blade Sister.
There may be a more elegant method of “de-forumizing” a story, but… I simply copy and paste the individual story installments into Word (one at a time), do some formatting and font adjustments, and then use Mobipocket Creator to convert it to Kindle format. Can PM in more detail if you like.
There is a value in getting to read so much of your work at one time- mostly because it is all wonderful. Although Julian maintains her “old habits,” she also learns new techniques and skills. But those changes happen at a believable pace- especially given Julian’s experiences.
The whole subplot with the corruption in Bravil is brilliantly drawn, with wonderful characterization throughout. I am busy trying to cast the roles of Phillida and Camillus in my head- a task made easier because they leap off the page.
Right there, for example.
And, of course I preened (and blushed) at the mentions of the “Solstheim case.”
This short passage says so much in so few words.
Then the idea that Mehrunes is attacking elsewhere is another of those “head-slap” moments that makes perfect sense- as soon as someone else thinks of it.
The meeting with Ocato was another of those moments that has a beautiful cinematic quality- your descriptions are crisp and the dialogue reveals much about the characters.
The mechanics of the sigil stones is an excellent bit of magecraft, again making perfect sense.
Julian’s bluntness, contrasted with Janus’ charm, is such a treat. In fact, the whole “Interview with a Vampire” scene is wonderful.
The portrayal of the oafish mages of Skingrad was welcome comic relief from the string of Gates, even as Julian’s nightmares remind us that she has had little about which to laugh.
But- we also see there is more to Vigge- and if he keeps eating sweet rolls, there will be a LOT more to him…. I can understand his addiction, though. To Julian- and to cinnamon.
What a wonderful sentence this is!
Ya think? ROFL.
You show your talent for writing fully-realized characters once more with the bookish Erthor.
And then, we get a glimpse at Julian’s depth during her introspection at the Aetherius Stone. That whole passage just sings.
If I tried to highlight everything that is wonderful about Julian’s return to the city of her youth, I would have to quote the entire chapter. Barring that, I will note this paragraph:
And her welcome home is the sort of thing that Bethesda could have scripted easily enough if they had thought of it. Simply add a “where are you from” question to the character creation at the start of the game…. More important, it adds tremendously to the feeling that she has a history, with all the weight that carries.
Which we see as she tells her story- or most of it to one of the few folk with a right to know, Varel Morvayn.
And, again at the perfect moment, you lighten the mood-
Pardon me while I gush over the flashbacks in the Mages Guild… Passages like these are the absolute heart of this wonderful story.
And now we see where the training of that useful quizzical eyebrow began!
You effectively capture Countess Umbranox’s melancholy without dwelling upon it. And it resonates with Julian’s own pain and determination.
The introduction of Blanco is another outstanding piece of writing, with wonderful descriptions and gentle humor.
Going to stop there for now- as this has gone too long already. But I am still reading and still catching up.
Nit section:
21.1- Phillida refers to the “Mystic Dawn.” Is that an error on his part, or should it be “Mythic?”
22.4- “No, I’m getting too old to keep fighting like this for much longer,” I answered. “My mother was an alchemist, and I’l like to learn what she knew.” Vigge must have scared the “L” into Julian’s contraction in the second sentence- “I’d.”
22.7- “Kvatch and Skingrad has a long history of helping each other, Julian,” he responded. “I’m only honoring that history.” Vampires and “V’s” I suppose. The two counties “have” a history.
22.8- “A blonde Imperial woman, quite attractive with her upswept hair and elegant green silks in spite of the fine lines that belied her age…” “Belied” seems to give the impression that the lines disguised her age, rather than indicating it.
23.4- An “a” and “an” manages to switch places on you during the flashback-
“Your mother wouldn’t make such a amateur mistake…”
His forbidding expression dissolved into an puckish grin…
23.5- The Daedra also manages to distort Carahil’s form of “to be”- “Maybe,” Carahil shrugged. “There are so much we don’t understand about Oblivion.”
23.6- “And one of my young cousins serve in his court.” “One serves…”
There is a value in getting to read so much of your work at one time- mostly because it is all wonderful. Although Julian maintains her “old habits,” she also learns new techniques and skills. But those changes happen at a believable pace- especially given Julian’s experiences.
The whole subplot with the corruption in Bravil is brilliantly drawn, with wonderful characterization throughout. I am busy trying to cast the roles of Phillida and Camillus in my head- a task made easier because they leap off the page.
QUOTE
“His quiet voice brought back memories of distant avalanches in the snow-covered mountains of Skyrim.”
Right there, for example.
And, of course I preened (and blushed) at the mentions of the “Solstheim case.”
QUOTE
“Hiding my face in my tumbler, I shook my head. There’s three more along the roads they don’t know about. Yet. After swallowing a mouthful of the refreshing liquid, I lowered my tumbler to see stunned amazement on their faces.”
This short passage says so much in so few words.
Then the idea that Mehrunes is attacking elsewhere is another of those “head-slap” moments that makes perfect sense- as soon as someone else thinks of it.
The meeting with Ocato was another of those moments that has a beautiful cinematic quality- your descriptions are crisp and the dialogue reveals much about the characters.
The mechanics of the sigil stones is an excellent bit of magecraft, again making perfect sense.
QUOTE
“I’m a recovering drunk,” I shook my head. “Water would be fine, if you have some ready.”
Julian’s bluntness, contrasted with Janus’ charm, is such a treat. In fact, the whole “Interview with a Vampire” scene is wonderful.
The portrayal of the oafish mages of Skingrad was welcome comic relief from the string of Gates, even as Julian’s nightmares remind us that she has had little about which to laugh.
But- we also see there is more to Vigge- and if he keeps eating sweet rolls, there will be a LOT more to him…. I can understand his addiction, though. To Julian- and to cinnamon.
QUOTE
“Green sparks flickered along its slender blade as the disgusting material fled from my fingers and the refresh spell blooming from them.“
What a wonderful sentence this is!
QUOTE
“I suppose there are not that many white-haired Redguard women traveling around Cyrodiil closing gates and rescuing housecats.”
Ya think? ROFL.
You show your talent for writing fully-realized characters once more with the bookish Erthor.
And then, we get a glimpse at Julian’s depth during her introspection at the Aetherius Stone. That whole passage just sings.
If I tried to highlight everything that is wonderful about Julian’s return to the city of her youth, I would have to quote the entire chapter. Barring that, I will note this paragraph:
QUOTE
“If not for those goblins thirty years ago, the man standing before me repairing my cuirass would have been my brother. But if not for those goblins, I would never have joined the Legion. So my brother would not be repairing a cuirass for me. If not for the goblins, who would be following the path I have followed these past few months?”
And her welcome home is the sort of thing that Bethesda could have scripted easily enough if they had thought of it. Simply add a “where are you from” question to the character creation at the start of the game…. More important, it adds tremendously to the feeling that she has a history, with all the weight that carries.
Which we see as she tells her story- or most of it to one of the few folk with a right to know, Varel Morvayn.
And, again at the perfect moment, you lighten the mood-
QUOTE
“Reputation?” I repeated. “For what? Rescuing housecats?”
Pardon me while I gush over the flashbacks in the Mages Guild… Passages like these are the absolute heart of this wonderful story.
QUOTE
“Oh, so you stole your mother’s ribbon, as well?” His left brow rose. I stared at that wayward feature, and tried hard to lift my right brow in imitation. I couldn’t quite do it.
And now we see where the training of that useful quizzical eyebrow began!
You effectively capture Countess Umbranox’s melancholy without dwelling upon it. And it resonates with Julian’s own pain and determination.
The introduction of Blanco is another outstanding piece of writing, with wonderful descriptions and gentle humor.
Going to stop there for now- as this has gone too long already. But I am still reading and still catching up.
Nit section:
21.1- Phillida refers to the “Mystic Dawn.” Is that an error on his part, or should it be “Mythic?”
22.4- “No, I’m getting too old to keep fighting like this for much longer,” I answered. “My mother was an alchemist, and I’l like to learn what she knew.” Vigge must have scared the “L” into Julian’s contraction in the second sentence- “I’d.”
22.7- “Kvatch and Skingrad has a long history of helping each other, Julian,” he responded. “I’m only honoring that history.” Vampires and “V’s” I suppose. The two counties “have” a history.
22.8- “A blonde Imperial woman, quite attractive with her upswept hair and elegant green silks in spite of the fine lines that belied her age…” “Belied” seems to give the impression that the lines disguised her age, rather than indicating it.
23.4- An “a” and “an” manages to switch places on you during the flashback-
“Your mother wouldn’t make such a amateur mistake…”
His forbidding expression dissolved into an puckish grin…
23.5- The Daedra also manages to distort Carahil’s form of “to be”- “Maybe,” Carahil shrugged. “There are so much we don’t understand about Oblivion.”
23.6- “And one of my young cousins serve in his court.” “One serves…”
Quite a different fight to the previous one, in some ways the opposite way round with Julian being more skilled but weaker. The reading her opponent by touching blades was an excellent way to show just how learned she is with the katana now as was her taking control of the fight from there.
The change into her being friendly with Valdemar after she freed him was well done, as was the tie in with Destri's stuff. I'm interested to see if you take the latter any further because the introduction of the characters is seamless and really works for me.
I sense Sancre Tor will proove a defining moment for Julian, after this I think she will feel she belongs more in the blades. She might also begin to fully realise just how formidable she is.
One option which occurs would be to PM the author and ask for a copy of the original document(s), it would save a lot of copy/paste work.
The change into her being friendly with Valdemar after she freed him was well done, as was the tie in with Destri's stuff. I'm interested to see if you take the latter any further because the introduction of the characters is seamless and really works for me.
I sense Sancre Tor will proove a defining moment for Julian, after this I think she will feel she belongs more in the blades. She might also begin to fully realise just how formidable she is.
QUOTE
There may be a more elegant method of “de-forumizing” a story, but…
One option which occurs would be to PM the author and ask for a copy of the original document(s), it would save a lot of copy/paste work.
I love the Nord way this fight started and ended. First the charging in like a Nord bluff, and finishing with a desperate struggle on the ground. The swordplay in the middle was simply dazzling. I don’t think I took a breath the whole time I was reading it.
“Find and take my shield. Alain gave it to me when they took away my mace and made me fight with this katana,” he touched the hilt at his left hip.
I found this very moving. All of the friendship, sacrifice, and dedication behind the words come through in this one little sentence.
“Find and take my shield. Alain gave it to me when they took away my mace and made me fight with this katana,” he touched the hilt at his left hip.
I found this very moving. All of the friendship, sacrifice, and dedication behind the words come through in this one little sentence.
Another rousing and well-thought out battle, chock full of strategms, and surprises. Julian just barely survived that, and she still has two more two go!
Valdemar's mention of his weird finally having caught up with him was a wonderful link to the same man we know from Destri's story.
Valdemar's mention of his weird finally having caught up with him was a wonderful link to the same man we know from Destri's story.
@ghastley: To answer your question, yes, Julian brought some repair hammers. She is busy repairing her weapons and armor off-stage in this story, so to speak. She can only do so much without time and a proper forge, though. We'll see later the price she pays for the lack of proper repair work.
@Cap'n Bam: Thanks for catching that wayward the. I have gone back and fixed it. I've already found a place for it in Miscarcand. I hope it hasn't been too difficult catching up with this story, and thanks for doing so.
Acadian: I'm glad that you are just as proud of these four Blades as I am (and as I hope Destri is!). Coming from a retired Marine that means a great deal. For them to accept her as a Blade sister means a great deal to Julian herself, as well.
@treydog: You re-read this story again?? Either you're crazy or this story is that good! That one chapter in the Imperial City with Phillida, Camillus and Ocato was intended to be a simple bridge, but turned out to be oh, so much more. I had a great deal of fun venturing off the paladin trail into Robert Ludlum territory for a little while. As for the Interview with a Vampire, I wanted to convey the mixed feelings I have every time I deal with the Count of Skingrad. How to reconcile his manner and the well-being of the city/county with his vampiric nature? That's a problem I'm still wrestling with, as well as Julian. Ever since that dig of SubRosa's about Julian rescuing cats in trees, I couldn't resist pointing that out a couple of times. Even she is aware of how that quirk of her personality appears to others. And it doesn't stop there, as we will see when she reaches Miscarcand. I'm glad you loved the glimpses of her childhood in the Mages Guild - I think it further reinforces the logic of her joining that particular Guild rather than the Fighters' Guild. And I see you caught the origin of her wandering brow!
@Olen: The reason I went to D. Foxy for the combat scenes was because I wanted each fight to reflect each individual Blade's strengths and weaknesses. This is where Destri's development of these characters came in. He and I talked about how the events in Interregnum would influence their later careers in the Blades as well as their attitudes and personalities after being frozen in the undead zone for over 400 years. I have to say that D. Foxy exceeded my expectations, and Julian's readers are totally reaping the rewards of the contributions of these two men. There will be references to their characters in Interregnum in upcoming posts, and I intend to tie Destri's story even more tightly to mine, as his vision is so close to my own it's a shame to ignore that tale. Thanks for your suggestion of PM'ing a writer for a copy of their original document. I know I can convert it into PDF format and import it into my iPad that way.
@Grits: I'm glad you enjoyed the Nordic flavor of that last fight! Destri's story really made these four guys come alive for me, beyond what Beth had so pathetically done with them. It seems that you have picked up on the strong relationship between Valdemar and Alain - I really wanted to bring that forward through the years of their undeaths.
@Sage Rose: I'm glad you recalled Valdemar's curse from Interregnum. When Destri posted that bit, it really hit home because I knew what lay ahead for these two intrepid friends. And believe me, the next two fights don't get any easier!
Two down, two more to go. That's how far Julian has progressed through Sancre Tor in her search for Tiber Septim's armor. As Rielus told her, all four of the Blades have to be freed from their curses in order to overcome the deadly magic Zurin Arctus left behind.
Once more, many thanks to Destri for letting me borrow the four greatest Blades from Interregnum, and to D. Foxy for helping me with the combat scenes and keeping them from becoming too repetitive. Now we move on to the third Guardian.
****************************
Chapter 26.6: The Third Guardian
As I made my way into the lowest level of the Hall of Judgment, I peered over the edge of the mezzanine overlooking the bottom. The undead Blade paced around a large space rimmed by two low steps that ran around the walls. He clanked onto the steps and swung his weapon with casual ease. My eyes were drawn to the glimmering blade. A faint red glow shimmered along the narrow blade. I recognized the long hilt of the dai-katana and understood the absence of the typical Blades shield.
I knelt down and took a deep breath of the dank, stale air. The damp chill seeped through the fur-lined tunic and into my muscles. I could feel the fatigue already settling into my bones. This bad air is no good, but so far I’m still fighting, still lucid. There must be ventilation somewhere. I resisted the urge to cough the moldy stench out of my lungs and took another deep breath. Three vials of refresh remained in my belt pouch. I drank one down, feeling a renewed surge of energy beat back the exhaustion that was becoming apparent.
I’ll keep Valdemar’s shield, I hefted the large round on my left arm, shifting my hold on the leather-wrapped grip. And I’ll use Daedra Slayer. I don’t know what kind of charm is on that dai-katana. I studied the skeleton a few moments longer. He’s about my height. We’ll be evenly matched, except his blade is heavier than mine. I’ll have to keep that in mind. I slipped down the stairs while his back was turned, and set my pack, my katana secured to the outside of it, at the base of the stairs. Then I straightened up and stepped forward. My booted feet sounded loud in the echoing stillness.
The blade of the dai-katana flashed in the dimness as the skeleton spun toward me and immediately attacked. I ducked back to stay clear of the slashing sword and to keep my distance from him. His skull faced me again with that imperturbable expression as the dai-katana swept back down toward my head.
I sidestepped right, bringing Valdemar’s shield up to block the strike. I tilted the enchanted shield around to deflect the dai-katana to my left, pushing off my right foot. As the undead Blade’s weapon slid off the shield boss with a clatter, I angled the metal over the blade to keep him from swinging it back up. At the same time, I lifted Daedra Slayer in an overhead arc toward his right shoulder, fire trailing after my blade.
The undead Blade slid back fast, recovering his dai-katana in time to parry my strike with a deft flick of his wrist. He stepped away, his weapon continuing its swing to his left. I lunged forward and swept Daedra Slayer in a low slash at his legs.
My breath caught in utter surprise as the skeleton leaped upward and pulled his feet well clear of my enchanted blade. His own weapon darted up into yet another overhanded strike as he retreated a full step. I barely managed to block it with Valdemar’s shield. Then he was charging forward, laying into me, smashing that dai-katana into my left side, then my right, then my left again. I yielded back, struggling to block, then parry, then block again. My teeth and knees vibrated and my muscles strained from the continuous attack.
Without thought, I slammed back into him with the shield when his weapon sparked against its brass trim again, the shrieking of the metal changing pitch ever so slightly. He staggered two paces back and dropped into a guard posture I had not seen in years. With his left shoulder presented to me, the skeleton held his two-handed sword vertically at his right shoulder, his empty eye sockets steady on mine.
Recovering my breath, I regarded him from my own crouched guard, my shield before my left leg, Daedra Slayer extended straight-armed behind me, ready to sweep around in either defense or offense. Where did I see that before? A niggling memory whispered in the back of my mind, but I ignored it, more focused on staying alive against an adversary that had the slightest edge in speed and agility on me.
I shifted my weight back onto my right foot and swept Daedra Slayer forward and upward. The undead bones swung his weapon toward me, again parrying my blade on his forte. He resisted for the slightest of instances, just enough for me to press back, then released his grip on the weapon. As I fought to recover my balance, the dai-katana spun around my blade in a full circle and the hilt smacked home in his hands again, only now it was free of mine.
Before I could disengage, he pressed forward, again slashing at me from side to side. While retreating - again - I cursed myself for being caught like that. Damn! He’s also a better tactician - I should have seen that coming!
As I backed across the wide chamber, Valdemar’s shield wrought its enchantment on the undead Blade. Every time I blocked his weapon, he would grind his teeth in frustration as magic tingled up his forearms. Yet at the same time, I could hear the change in pitch as metal clanged on metal.
I was still at a disadvantage. He was quicker than I, more agile. Though we were equally matched in height and reach, he had more upper body strength than I. I kept my knees bent, my body below his, so I could use my lower body strength against him - in accordance with the tactical plan I was developing. Each time he strikes and hits my shield, he gets weaker. Being on the defensive conserves my energy. I'll let him exhaust himself, then finish him off with a whirlwind attack. That's the plan.
Justine Case would be proud of me, I thought.
For a moment I forgot another truth as old as war: No operational plan survives contact with the enemy.
As I deflected strike after strike from that deadly dai-katana, we settled into a rhythm that was eerily familiar to me. Careful now. Don’t get lulled into a false sense of rhythm. He’s about to do something unexpected - right - about - now.
Then the skeleton did something I never thought I would see a collection of bones do. He leaped high into the air, bringing both bony feet against Valdemar’s shield. His skeletal mass drove me nearly to my knees. As I shoved him away, tilting the shield into him, he lunged over the round metal toward my throat. I barely managed to slip aside from the strike. The thin edge of his blade grated across the top of my right shoulder. Savlian’s mail flickered and crackled apart in a long gash right next to the just-healed wound from Valdemar’s weapon, sending a renewed stab of pain through my right shoulder.
In that same instant, the niggling memory clicked, shouted. Of course! He fights like a Knight of the Moon. That’s the Desert Wind style he’s using! Jelin had demonstrated how the ancient style of fighting could overwhelm a shield bearer, making a burden of something that was normally protective.
The leap onto my shield had seriously unbalanced me, and worse than that, it left me with only one option - a quick scramble back. He knew this too, which meant he didn't need to think at all about his best countermove - to follow me as closely as possible. Even as I went scrambling away, desperately trying to regain my balance and fight him off at the same time, he surged forward, switching between overhead smashes, lightning side slashes and deadly straight thrusts. Somehow I managed to block and parry them all without thinking - I was in survival mode, not even registering the pain of some strikes that got partly through. I stayed in constant motion, ducking, weaving, and blocking, all the while moving back and trying to anticipate his next strike.
Which was how he caught me.
@Cap'n Bam: Thanks for catching that wayward the. I have gone back and fixed it. I've already found a place for it in Miscarcand.
I hope it hasn't been too difficult catching up with this story, and thanks for doing so. Acadian: I'm glad that you are just as proud of these four Blades as I am (and as I hope Destri is!). Coming from a retired Marine that means a great deal. For them to accept her as a Blade sister means a great deal to Julian herself, as well.
@treydog: You re-read this story again?? Either you're crazy or this story is that good! That one chapter in the Imperial City with Phillida, Camillus and Ocato was intended to be a simple bridge, but turned out to be oh, so much more. I had a great deal of fun venturing off the paladin trail into Robert Ludlum territory for a little while. As for the Interview with a Vampire, I wanted to convey the mixed feelings I have every time I deal with the Count of Skingrad. How to reconcile his manner and the well-being of the city/county with his vampiric nature? That's a problem I'm still wrestling with, as well as Julian. Ever since that dig of SubRosa's about Julian rescuing cats in trees, I couldn't resist pointing that out a couple of times. Even she is aware of how that quirk of her personality appears to others. And it doesn't stop there, as we will see when she reaches Miscarcand. I'm glad you loved the glimpses of her childhood in the Mages Guild - I think it further reinforces the logic of her joining that particular Guild rather than the Fighters' Guild. And I see you caught the origin of her wandering brow!
@Olen: The reason I went to D. Foxy for the combat scenes was because I wanted each fight to reflect each individual Blade's strengths and weaknesses. This is where Destri's development of these characters came in. He and I talked about how the events in Interregnum would influence their later careers in the Blades as well as their attitudes and personalities after being frozen in the undead zone for over 400 years. I have to say that D. Foxy exceeded my expectations, and Julian's readers are totally reaping the rewards of the contributions of these two men. There will be references to their characters in Interregnum in upcoming posts, and I intend to tie Destri's story even more tightly to mine, as his vision is so close to my own it's a shame to ignore that tale. Thanks for your suggestion of PM'ing a writer for a copy of their original document. I know I can convert it into PDF format and import it into my iPad that way.
@Grits: I'm glad you enjoyed the Nordic flavor of that last fight! Destri's story really made these four guys come alive for me, beyond what Beth had so pathetically done with them. It seems that you have picked up on the strong relationship between Valdemar and Alain - I really wanted to bring that forward through the years of their undeaths.
@Sage Rose: I'm glad you recalled Valdemar's curse from Interregnum. When Destri posted that bit, it really hit home because I knew what lay ahead for these two intrepid friends. And believe me, the next two fights don't get any easier!
Two down, two more to go. That's how far Julian has progressed through Sancre Tor in her search for Tiber Septim's armor. As Rielus told her, all four of the Blades have to be freed from their curses in order to overcome the deadly magic Zurin Arctus left behind.
Once more, many thanks to Destri for letting me borrow the four greatest Blades from Interregnum, and to D. Foxy for helping me with the combat scenes and keeping them from becoming too repetitive. Now we move on to the third Guardian.
****************************
Chapter 26.6: The Third Guardian
As I made my way into the lowest level of the Hall of Judgment, I peered over the edge of the mezzanine overlooking the bottom. The undead Blade paced around a large space rimmed by two low steps that ran around the walls. He clanked onto the steps and swung his weapon with casual ease. My eyes were drawn to the glimmering blade. A faint red glow shimmered along the narrow blade. I recognized the long hilt of the dai-katana and understood the absence of the typical Blades shield.
I knelt down and took a deep breath of the dank, stale air. The damp chill seeped through the fur-lined tunic and into my muscles. I could feel the fatigue already settling into my bones. This bad air is no good, but so far I’m still fighting, still lucid. There must be ventilation somewhere. I resisted the urge to cough the moldy stench out of my lungs and took another deep breath. Three vials of refresh remained in my belt pouch. I drank one down, feeling a renewed surge of energy beat back the exhaustion that was becoming apparent.
I’ll keep Valdemar’s shield, I hefted the large round on my left arm, shifting my hold on the leather-wrapped grip. And I’ll use Daedra Slayer. I don’t know what kind of charm is on that dai-katana. I studied the skeleton a few moments longer. He’s about my height. We’ll be evenly matched, except his blade is heavier than mine. I’ll have to keep that in mind. I slipped down the stairs while his back was turned, and set my pack, my katana secured to the outside of it, at the base of the stairs. Then I straightened up and stepped forward. My booted feet sounded loud in the echoing stillness.
The blade of the dai-katana flashed in the dimness as the skeleton spun toward me and immediately attacked. I ducked back to stay clear of the slashing sword and to keep my distance from him. His skull faced me again with that imperturbable expression as the dai-katana swept back down toward my head.
I sidestepped right, bringing Valdemar’s shield up to block the strike. I tilted the enchanted shield around to deflect the dai-katana to my left, pushing off my right foot. As the undead Blade’s weapon slid off the shield boss with a clatter, I angled the metal over the blade to keep him from swinging it back up. At the same time, I lifted Daedra Slayer in an overhead arc toward his right shoulder, fire trailing after my blade.
The undead Blade slid back fast, recovering his dai-katana in time to parry my strike with a deft flick of his wrist. He stepped away, his weapon continuing its swing to his left. I lunged forward and swept Daedra Slayer in a low slash at his legs.
My breath caught in utter surprise as the skeleton leaped upward and pulled his feet well clear of my enchanted blade. His own weapon darted up into yet another overhanded strike as he retreated a full step. I barely managed to block it with Valdemar’s shield. Then he was charging forward, laying into me, smashing that dai-katana into my left side, then my right, then my left again. I yielded back, struggling to block, then parry, then block again. My teeth and knees vibrated and my muscles strained from the continuous attack.
Without thought, I slammed back into him with the shield when his weapon sparked against its brass trim again, the shrieking of the metal changing pitch ever so slightly. He staggered two paces back and dropped into a guard posture I had not seen in years. With his left shoulder presented to me, the skeleton held his two-handed sword vertically at his right shoulder, his empty eye sockets steady on mine.
Recovering my breath, I regarded him from my own crouched guard, my shield before my left leg, Daedra Slayer extended straight-armed behind me, ready to sweep around in either defense or offense. Where did I see that before? A niggling memory whispered in the back of my mind, but I ignored it, more focused on staying alive against an adversary that had the slightest edge in speed and agility on me.
I shifted my weight back onto my right foot and swept Daedra Slayer forward and upward. The undead bones swung his weapon toward me, again parrying my blade on his forte. He resisted for the slightest of instances, just enough for me to press back, then released his grip on the weapon. As I fought to recover my balance, the dai-katana spun around my blade in a full circle and the hilt smacked home in his hands again, only now it was free of mine.
Before I could disengage, he pressed forward, again slashing at me from side to side. While retreating - again - I cursed myself for being caught like that. Damn! He’s also a better tactician - I should have seen that coming!
As I backed across the wide chamber, Valdemar’s shield wrought its enchantment on the undead Blade. Every time I blocked his weapon, he would grind his teeth in frustration as magic tingled up his forearms. Yet at the same time, I could hear the change in pitch as metal clanged on metal.
I was still at a disadvantage. He was quicker than I, more agile. Though we were equally matched in height and reach, he had more upper body strength than I. I kept my knees bent, my body below his, so I could use my lower body strength against him - in accordance with the tactical plan I was developing. Each time he strikes and hits my shield, he gets weaker. Being on the defensive conserves my energy. I'll let him exhaust himself, then finish him off with a whirlwind attack. That's the plan.
Justine Case would be proud of me, I thought.
For a moment I forgot another truth as old as war: No operational plan survives contact with the enemy.
As I deflected strike after strike from that deadly dai-katana, we settled into a rhythm that was eerily familiar to me. Careful now. Don’t get lulled into a false sense of rhythm. He’s about to do something unexpected - right - about - now.
Then the skeleton did something I never thought I would see a collection of bones do. He leaped high into the air, bringing both bony feet against Valdemar’s shield. His skeletal mass drove me nearly to my knees. As I shoved him away, tilting the shield into him, he lunged over the round metal toward my throat. I barely managed to slip aside from the strike. The thin edge of his blade grated across the top of my right shoulder. Savlian’s mail flickered and crackled apart in a long gash right next to the just-healed wound from Valdemar’s weapon, sending a renewed stab of pain through my right shoulder.
In that same instant, the niggling memory clicked, shouted. Of course! He fights like a Knight of the Moon. That’s the Desert Wind style he’s using! Jelin had demonstrated how the ancient style of fighting could overwhelm a shield bearer, making a burden of something that was normally protective.
The leap onto my shield had seriously unbalanced me, and worse than that, it left me with only one option - a quick scramble back. He knew this too, which meant he didn't need to think at all about his best countermove - to follow me as closely as possible. Even as I went scrambling away, desperately trying to regain my balance and fight him off at the same time, he surged forward, switching between overhead smashes, lightning side slashes and deadly straight thrusts. Somehow I managed to block and parry them all without thinking - I was in survival mode, not even registering the pain of some strikes that got partly through. I stayed in constant motion, ducking, weaving, and blocking, all the while moving back and trying to anticipate his next strike.
Which was how he caught me.
Wow, talk about cliffhangers!
I've been reading and lurking for months. And greatly enjoying. I figured it was high time I added my voice of praise. Thank you so much for sharing this beautiful work.
I've been reading and lurking for months. And greatly enjoying. I figured it was high time I added my voice of praise. Thank you so much for sharing this beautiful work.
And another drastically different fight. They certainly get no easier for her, but they stay fresh and exciting to read. It also strikes me that as well as being a tour of fighting styles you're also showing how Julian has come accross them - she really is well versed and a formidable opponent
And quite the cliffhanger end to this part.
Also I'm very much enjoying how you've tied this to Destri's story, both capture exactly how I imagined the four blades to be, but with so much more depth.
And quite the cliffhanger end to this part.
Also I'm very much enjoying how you've tied this to Destri's story, both capture exactly how I imagined the four blades to be, but with so much more depth.
This is getting perilously close to "and then I died and had to reload from my last save".
Another heart pounder! You've done a great job distinguishing all three fights to date. Very different opponents - all presenting formidable challenges for which Julian has had to adopt unique solutions. 
Both her mind and body are working overtime with these fights! I enjoy how you are lavishing Julian's thoughts upon us amidst the thrusts, slashes and parries.
In their own way, each of the four blades we have encountered thus far (three ancients and one Redguard with white hair) clearly demonstrate their worthiness of the title they all share.
'For a moment I forgot another truth as old as war: No operational plan survives contact with the enemy.'
This gave me a chuckle, but is also quoted for truth.
Both her mind and body are working overtime with these fights! I enjoy how you are lavishing Julian's thoughts upon us amidst the thrusts, slashes and parries.
In their own way, each of the four blades we have encountered thus far (three ancients and one Redguard with white hair) clearly demonstrate their worthiness of the title they all share.
'For a moment I forgot another truth as old as war: No operational plan survives contact with the enemy.'
This gave me a chuckle, but is also quoted for truth.
Very exciting! The enchantment on the dai-katana is certainly troubling. I love the description of how it opened a gash in Savlian’s mail. Do Redguard skeletons still have an Adrenaline Rush? It sounds like he’s executing Julian’s plan to finish with a whirlwind of attacks.
Poor Cliff, hung again!
Again, a very expertly planned out duel with the third Blade. I spent most of the first part trying to figure out which of the last two it was. But when he leaped up, I knew it was Casnar. Who else but a Redguard would do such a thing? Although I should have guessed it sooner, when you pointed out that he and Julian were the same height. Also, once more you have turned this into a subtle crossover from Interregnum, as Julian recognizes his tactics as those of a Knight of the Moon.
Again, a very expertly planned out duel with the third Blade. I spent most of the first part trying to figure out which of the last two it was. But when he leaped up, I knew it was Casnar. Who else but a Redguard would do such a thing? Although I should have guessed it sooner, when you pointed out that he and Julian were the same height. Also, once more you have turned this into a subtle crossover from Interregnum, as Julian recognizes his tactics as those of a Knight of the Moon.
Eh, catching up wasn't too difficult. Enjoyable, really, once I got the chance for a good read-through.
And now we see one of the deadliest swordsmen ever to walk out of the Alik'r Desert. I'm impressed how well you make the old pile of bones move like a warrior three-hundred years younger than he. I wonder if either Fortis or Jauffre are familiar with the style?
Semi-Nit:
I don't know whether this is part of the internal dialogue that Julian is running through prior to engaging Blade Tertius. If not, then it's fine. If it is supposed to be inner thoughts to oneself, then you might want to try it reversed, as such:
Honestly, I have a difficult enough time myself converting to the forum's tags from my word processor. Doesn't help that I don't have a program which uses the same formatting nature of the forum for me to type my drafts in. *grumbles...*
And now we see one of the deadliest swordsmen ever to walk out of the Alik'r Desert. I'm impressed how well you make the old pile of bones move like a warrior three-hundred years younger than he. I wonder if either Fortis or Jauffre are familiar with the style?
Semi-Nit:
QUOTE
And I'll use Daedra Slayer.
I don't know whether this is part of the internal dialogue that Julian is running through prior to engaging Blade Tertius. If not, then it's fine. If it is supposed to be inner thoughts to oneself, then you might want to try it reversed, as such:
QUOTE
And I’ll use Daedra Slayer. I don’t know what kind of charm is on that dai-katana.
Honestly, I have a difficult enough time myself converting to the forum's tags from my word processor. Doesn't help that I don't have a program which uses the same formatting nature of the forum for me to type my drafts in. *grumbles...*
These chapters have inspired me to go play the game and do the Sancre Tor quest - LOVE Sancre Tor !!! Great Write!
This should be the last of my majpr spammage... I will be following Julian to Sancre Tor soon- and should be caught up within the week. That is a- mixed blessing....
“Like half the daedra I’ve faced in the Deadlands,” I mumbled to myself."
There is a spark of the pride we know Julian keeps hidden- or perhaps more her exasperation at rudeness.
Caminalda is wonderfully snarky throughout. And I also like the change you made to the quest based on how well-known Julian is.
“I staggered and fell to one knee, Daedra Slayer dragging my right arm down, the weight of the immense sky above pressing me into the hard cobblestones. With tremendous effort that hurt my neck I looked up in time to see her step toward me, triumph on her face as she raised her hand for the killing spell.”
A wonderful, vivid description- we can TASTE the despair and determination.
“A promise I made before I came here.” I smiled at the thought of meeting that white stallion again. Will he still like me?
Girls and horses. Shakes head.
And Clesa (with Blanco’s able assistance) is quite a horse-trader…
I cannot quote just the “good parts” of 23.11- because I would have to quote it all. One reason I read is to find perfect moments, perfectly described. The pain and the humanity in this section fit that requirement.
“I caught my breath. Blood flows in this house once again.”
Now that is an ending line!
The juxtaposition of Jared’s betrayal with the Sirens is brilliant- as is that last line.
“Why does Mother never speak of my father?”
“That is for her to tell you, Julian,” Relas did not meet my gaze, but turned back to the path and the climb to the farm. “It’s not my place to say anything about him.”
And- even as one incident from Julian’s past is revealed, you treat us to another mystery.
Again, I cannot quote from this section without highlighting all of it, so I will leave it at this. We wanted to know about Julian’s tragic past and now we do. It is a reminder to be careful of what we wish for.
"Before long, I was on my own white stallion and riding out of the courtyard. Clesa watched me go. “Don’t forget to breathe!” she called after me as we headed west, the morning sun warm on our backs."
That brought a big smile to my face- but nothing like one Julian had.
“Clesa!” Ernest growled. “Speak plainly! None of that fancy haughty echo talk!”
"Right now, I’m just trying to think about getting through the day.” Blue eyes drifted into my mind, eyes as azure as the sky. What? Why am I thinking about him now? No. Not him. I shook the thought away. Don’t think about him."
Woo-Hoo! That will start a flurry of page-turning and head-scratching!
"As Blanco passed the Dunmer, Mira heard him blow hard, and looked back to see Marche brushing equine mucus off his blue velvet doublet with distaste. “Blanco, behave,” she whispered into the horse’s ear. He only flicked an ear at her."
Loved Blanco before- even more so now. And the entire section on Blanco and Mira was just wonderful.
“I stared at him, feeling my jaw tighten. Kill him? My eyes drifted over his injuries. He’s right. I can’t give him back his legs, his mobility. Without it, he’s dependent on others. And the folks in Skingrad are not likely to treat him kindly, bandit that he is. I nodded reluctantly and rose to my feet, bringing my plain katana out of its scabbard. The Redguard lay back and closed his eyes.”
Puts me in mind of the long version of the General Sherman quote- “People will tell you that war is all glory- but it is all hell.”
Seeing Merowald (and Paint!) again is always a treat.
“Knowing that there’s people taking casualties, I can’t just sit here and rest until they’re safe,” I countered. “That was my job as pilus in the Legion, and it’s an old habit I prefer not to break right now.”
That is the Julian we know. She will see things through and makes sure the people are safe.
"I decided not to take offense and chuckled, shaking my head. “After half a lifetime in the Legion,” I remarked, “I’m looking to get out of fighting. It’s just not as easy as I hoped.”
One thing you do quite well is show that time has brought changes to Julian’s outlook. By giving her a new start on a different life, you show how well the decision to have her older than the “usual” adventurer has worked. At the same time, her “previous” life (or lives) provides a rich source of material.
“You can’t be in nine places at the same time,” Bittneld half-growled.
A wonderfully clever use of setting-specific phrasing. I admit it slipped past me the first time. Perhaps re-reading some Pratchett- with the significance of “eight,” made me more attuned…
“I let the old smile, the smile I reserved only for combat, the smile that hid my nerves, surface. Her jaw clenched at something she saw in my face.”
Pardon me as I stand on my chair and cheer for Julian. You capture the contradiction of Earana perfectly. She is so arrogant that she treats the player character like dirt- yet she expects a favor all the same. And finally, I love the way you show how the Altmer’s obsession causes her to be oblivious to all the townspeople- who REALLY do not much like her.
Bittneld’s teasing and Faric’s banter were also a lot of fun- as was watching Julian struggle a bit with the unaccustomed attention.
"My thoughts skipped back to a dark stone room and a young legionary. “I have a little experience in that area -” thanks to General Camillus. “I can offer to see what I can do.”
That darned "young legionary" keeps showing up- his young lady will probably do something about that soon enough.
“Canvassing the Castle”
Groan. Despite my enjoyment of mystery stories, I had trouble with this quest for some reason… However, you and Julian handle it quite well, and use the time to add more excellent characterization.
"You mean take one last look at the place where you lost your men. I kept silent, only nodded my understanding. In your place, I would do the same."
For example, right there.
"Chanel stared at me, her eyes huge in her small-featured face. “If you’ve ever been in love, you would know -“
I felt my face freeze at her words. That stings."
Good thing Athlain was smart enough to not make his “interview” with Julian personal. He would not have liked the outcome.
“Some mothers don’t think I make a good role model for their impressionable young daughters,” I remarked dryly as Piner handed the bridle to me. “After all, I’m a Legion pilus, likely to break into foul language at the drop of a hat, spending all my free time in taverns with other rough soldiers, and spoiling for a fight.”
I quite enjoyed that mischaracterization of the Julian we have met. While I have no doubt that might have been who she was while in the grip of drink and skooma….
The description of the hackle-raising pillar at Cloud Top is quite wonderful- as is this bit of introspection:
"The only person I would really trust with such a volume is Martin Septim. But what purpose would giving him this book serve? What would he do with it? He has to focus on recovering the Amulet, he can’t be distracted by a trifling matter as this. Or is this a trifling matter? Nothing daedric is trifling, as far as I know."
The description of Julian’s decision-making process is also welcome- she does not simply assume one course is the “right thing to do” without weighing the alternatives carefully.
Nits:
23.9- “…Hanus knelt on one knee, blood…” More of a preference than a reall issue here- might avoid two “knees” so close together (I hear Foxy sniggering in the background)- with “…Hanus was on one knee, …”
23.14 – “Within the open-sided stable, divided into stalls within, one of the white horses standing one of the rear stalls…”
In her excitement, Julian has lost an “in” between “standing” and “one”.
25.4- “Now I recognized the tall Breton. Though his ginger hair now had more salt than cayenne pepper in it, and his florid face was now more weathered,”
Three uses of “now” in a really short space. I think you could lose the second and third without harm to the meaning.
25.6- “Against the northern arc a chair, empty bottles piled up behind them,…” Should that be “…piled up behind it….”?
25.7- Her voice turned anguished. “I did out of the greatness of the love I held in my heart for him.” In her agitation, Chanel seems to have lost an “it” between “I did” and “out of.”
“I just brought a High Rock stallion in Anvil,” “Bought,” perhaps?
“Like half the daedra I’ve faced in the Deadlands,” I mumbled to myself."
There is a spark of the pride we know Julian keeps hidden- or perhaps more her exasperation at rudeness.
Caminalda is wonderfully snarky throughout. And I also like the change you made to the quest based on how well-known Julian is.
“I staggered and fell to one knee, Daedra Slayer dragging my right arm down, the weight of the immense sky above pressing me into the hard cobblestones. With tremendous effort that hurt my neck I looked up in time to see her step toward me, triumph on her face as she raised her hand for the killing spell.”
A wonderful, vivid description- we can TASTE the despair and determination.
“A promise I made before I came here.” I smiled at the thought of meeting that white stallion again. Will he still like me?
Girls and horses. Shakes head.
And Clesa (with Blanco’s able assistance) is quite a horse-trader…
I cannot quote just the “good parts” of 23.11- because I would have to quote it all. One reason I read is to find perfect moments, perfectly described. The pain and the humanity in this section fit that requirement.
“I caught my breath. Blood flows in this house once again.”
Now that is an ending line!
The juxtaposition of Jared’s betrayal with the Sirens is brilliant- as is that last line.
“Why does Mother never speak of my father?”
“That is for her to tell you, Julian,” Relas did not meet my gaze, but turned back to the path and the climb to the farm. “It’s not my place to say anything about him.”
And- even as one incident from Julian’s past is revealed, you treat us to another mystery.
Again, I cannot quote from this section without highlighting all of it, so I will leave it at this. We wanted to know about Julian’s tragic past and now we do. It is a reminder to be careful of what we wish for.
"Before long, I was on my own white stallion and riding out of the courtyard. Clesa watched me go. “Don’t forget to breathe!” she called after me as we headed west, the morning sun warm on our backs."
That brought a big smile to my face- but nothing like one Julian had.
“Clesa!” Ernest growled. “Speak plainly! None of that fancy haughty echo talk!”
"Right now, I’m just trying to think about getting through the day.” Blue eyes drifted into my mind, eyes as azure as the sky. What? Why am I thinking about him now? No. Not him. I shook the thought away. Don’t think about him."
Woo-Hoo! That will start a flurry of page-turning and head-scratching!
"As Blanco passed the Dunmer, Mira heard him blow hard, and looked back to see Marche brushing equine mucus off his blue velvet doublet with distaste. “Blanco, behave,” she whispered into the horse’s ear. He only flicked an ear at her."
Loved Blanco before- even more so now. And the entire section on Blanco and Mira was just wonderful.
“I stared at him, feeling my jaw tighten. Kill him? My eyes drifted over his injuries. He’s right. I can’t give him back his legs, his mobility. Without it, he’s dependent on others. And the folks in Skingrad are not likely to treat him kindly, bandit that he is. I nodded reluctantly and rose to my feet, bringing my plain katana out of its scabbard. The Redguard lay back and closed his eyes.”
Puts me in mind of the long version of the General Sherman quote- “People will tell you that war is all glory- but it is all hell.”
Seeing Merowald (and Paint!) again is always a treat.
“Knowing that there’s people taking casualties, I can’t just sit here and rest until they’re safe,” I countered. “That was my job as pilus in the Legion, and it’s an old habit I prefer not to break right now.”
That is the Julian we know. She will see things through and makes sure the people are safe.
"I decided not to take offense and chuckled, shaking my head. “After half a lifetime in the Legion,” I remarked, “I’m looking to get out of fighting. It’s just not as easy as I hoped.”
One thing you do quite well is show that time has brought changes to Julian’s outlook. By giving her a new start on a different life, you show how well the decision to have her older than the “usual” adventurer has worked. At the same time, her “previous” life (or lives) provides a rich source of material.
“You can’t be in nine places at the same time,” Bittneld half-growled.
A wonderfully clever use of setting-specific phrasing. I admit it slipped past me the first time. Perhaps re-reading some Pratchett- with the significance of “eight,” made me more attuned…
“I let the old smile, the smile I reserved only for combat, the smile that hid my nerves, surface. Her jaw clenched at something she saw in my face.”
Pardon me as I stand on my chair and cheer for Julian. You capture the contradiction of Earana perfectly. She is so arrogant that she treats the player character like dirt- yet she expects a favor all the same. And finally, I love the way you show how the Altmer’s obsession causes her to be oblivious to all the townspeople- who REALLY do not much like her.
Bittneld’s teasing and Faric’s banter were also a lot of fun- as was watching Julian struggle a bit with the unaccustomed attention.
"My thoughts skipped back to a dark stone room and a young legionary. “I have a little experience in that area -” thanks to General Camillus. “I can offer to see what I can do.”
That darned "young legionary" keeps showing up- his young lady will probably do something about that soon enough.
“Canvassing the Castle”
Groan. Despite my enjoyment of mystery stories, I had trouble with this quest for some reason… However, you and Julian handle it quite well, and use the time to add more excellent characterization.
"You mean take one last look at the place where you lost your men. I kept silent, only nodded my understanding. In your place, I would do the same."
For example, right there.
"Chanel stared at me, her eyes huge in her small-featured face. “If you’ve ever been in love, you would know -“
I felt my face freeze at her words. That stings."
Good thing Athlain was smart enough to not make his “interview” with Julian personal. He would not have liked the outcome.
“Some mothers don’t think I make a good role model for their impressionable young daughters,” I remarked dryly as Piner handed the bridle to me. “After all, I’m a Legion pilus, likely to break into foul language at the drop of a hat, spending all my free time in taverns with other rough soldiers, and spoiling for a fight.”
I quite enjoyed that mischaracterization of the Julian we have met. While I have no doubt that might have been who she was while in the grip of drink and skooma….
The description of the hackle-raising pillar at Cloud Top is quite wonderful- as is this bit of introspection:
"The only person I would really trust with such a volume is Martin Septim. But what purpose would giving him this book serve? What would he do with it? He has to focus on recovering the Amulet, he can’t be distracted by a trifling matter as this. Or is this a trifling matter? Nothing daedric is trifling, as far as I know."
The description of Julian’s decision-making process is also welcome- she does not simply assume one course is the “right thing to do” without weighing the alternatives carefully.
Nits:
23.9- “…Hanus knelt on one knee, blood…” More of a preference than a reall issue here- might avoid two “knees” so close together (I hear Foxy sniggering in the background)- with “…Hanus was on one knee, …”
23.14 – “Within the open-sided stable, divided into stalls within, one of the white horses standing one of the rear stalls…”
In her excitement, Julian has lost an “in” between “standing” and “one”.
25.4- “Now I recognized the tall Breton. Though his ginger hair now had more salt than cayenne pepper in it, and his florid face was now more weathered,”
Three uses of “now” in a really short space. I think you could lose the second and third without harm to the meaning.
25.6- “Against the northern arc a chair, empty bottles piled up behind them,…” Should that be “…piled up behind it….”?
25.7- Her voice turned anguished. “I did out of the greatness of the love I held in my heart for him.” In her agitation, Chanel seems to have lost an “it” between “I did” and “out of.”
“I just brought a High Rock stallion in Anvil,” “Bought,” perhaps?
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