When I started this fiction, sooo long ago now...Little did I know to what size it would sprawl...Not only in terms of Geography, but the sheer weight of characters and, most espescially, time...So, to help, there are links below to the characters and the timeline my fiction follows...Both of them will help immensely...

Please enjoy!...


Dramatis Personnae



KOTN Timeline


11/02/13
--------------------------



Original post start


Hey there *Waves*...This is me trying some fan-fic...Having gone through many of your stories, and reading the writing help post I realise I'm going to not update as quickly as I'd hoped...But I am working on something, it's just taking longer than I expected...Like as if it started here and I expected to be like there by now but new characters keep wandering in and needing their own scenes and stuff...Swines!!...

Anyways, in total since about 20 years ago (ie since I left school) I've written maybe three stories, two of which were published in a local writing magazine though...Wha-hey!!...Aaamywho...I've not done much writing...I wish to do more...I've had this thing (A world btw...No I'm not...Y'know...Entirely wrong up there ) in my head for many years I need to get out, so writing Oblivion fan-fic is a start on that road...

Anyways, this is a set up for what's coming, a prequel of sorts that puts many things in place...Sort of a more pleasant info-dump if you will...

Please be gentle... ...

Oh, btw - Elipses...I know there are many...My stories don't have them as much, but my forum posts and probably, therefore, my thinking does...And as most of this is in her head...You get where I'm going...

Cheers...

Oh, and that bit at the end...If at first you don't get it...Persevere...It will make sense...


Sneak.


Oh no...Nonono...Not him. Not them. Son of a Daedroth. Why do they keep doing this? Everywhere I go one of them ruins it all. Damned Knights.

Damn.

Let me start somewhen else.

This is me – mottled, but mostly honey coloured fur with just the right amount of red in it. Just enough to make me just the right amount of bad.

My name is Ras’sheena, I’m a Khajiiti. You can tell by the ears. Oh, and my oh so winning and friendly smile.

Yes Khajiiti means I’m a girl. How can you not tell?. I know this Mithril isn’t that figure hugging but really.

Oh yes...And by the way, I’m very good at my job. Always.

Six years ago.

There’s me, I’m the one with the box on my shoulder. Unloading the ship moored at the Imperial City docks. Most of you will wonder what’s a nice girl like me doing working on the docks? Well, a girl’s got to eat hasn’t she?

We’ve got a nice crew going here. There’s me; (notice the wiggle?...Heh, Naughty you...) And that’s J’Drell the Argonian, he’s big; even for Lizards. (No offence by the way.) Tall, strong. Long limbed, but almost graceful. Fairly new to the docks, just moved here from Anvil he says. Good worker, always talking and laughing.

Over there admiring the view (of me?) is my Mr Right, (Or Mr Right-now at least...Heh, just kidding my Hearth-Kiit. You were always the one...) M’dssark. Beautiful black and grey stripes, muscular. Athletic.

Makes me purr even now.

*Sigh*...

Where was I?

Oh yes...Even the foreman – Gremmand – is good; for an Imperial that is. Short but built like a Dwarf of old - Knows how to work. Which is also good - for an Imperial. As long as we get the job done without breaking or stealing the cargo we can act as we please to make the day go by.

So one day, there we were, just doing our thing when M’dssark gets called over by a Nord. Not sure of his name but I’m sure I’d seen him before.

Then I remembered.

Sometimes when we’d been out at the inn, the Nord would be about and he’d exchange nods with ‘Sark, so I thought nothing of it as they walked off behind the docks wall. Gremmand frowned but I just smiled at him. (Heh, funny how my smiles always work.) Anyway, ‘Sark comes back worried. I went over to him but he just says “Later Mii-Kiit.” (Pet name...Sweet...)

I always remember turning around and catching J’Drell turning his head away.

I never thought, not once.

In bed later...Y’know...After...M’dssark tells me of The Blackwater Brigands.

He’d been working with them for a couple of months, keeping an eye on the best hauls. Feeding them names, dates, crew numbers; you know, stuff a decent Brigand needs.

Oh how much love I had for him at that moment, my very own Pirate! In training to be sure, but still.

Two weeks later he was dead.

They’d convinced him to help them rob The Bloated Float. The Inn that sets out to sea for an added thrill to the drinking - Apparently. Still, it’s berthed at the end of the waterfront.

’M’dssark had heard that damned Bosmer Ormil talking about some treasure on board and let the Blackwater lot know.

*Sigh*...

Little did we know that there would be unexpected company.

’Sark had kissed me goodbye with promise of so much gold on top of the decent lot we already had saved. Enough that we could move away. Maybe to Elsweyr.

Five of them there were against the skeleton crew of the Float. Despite what they would have you believe, it takes more than the two of them to run the damned thing. Anyway, one thing Little-Chief-of-Brigands, Selene, didn’t count on was that damned Argonian.

J’Drell finished them all off - Even my Hearth-Kiit. I know he wouldn’t have made it easy...Good...Damned Lizard.

But still...

Damned Damn...

*Sigh*...

I paced up and down the docks awaiting the triumphant return of King M’dssark, Lord of all Pirates!!. And what I got was J’Drell staring at me as he came up the gangplank.

Oh, the blood on his armour...

He signalled the waiting Legio to take me.

Oh, how I ran.

Seems he was Legio Investigato all along.

Interrogator.

Spy.

Snaffashk more like...No, you don’t want me to translate it.

Damn...



-------------------------------------------------------



Five years ago.

Skingrad.

Oh the irony of the name.

The West Weald Inn isn’t just wall to wall drinking - “We’ve every type of drink available in Tamriel.” (said the banner in the Courier). Oh no. Some of us were hired as hostess girls. We were...Of use.

Well, a girl’s got to eat hasn’t she?

Tall, athletic, apparently a “Pretty-Kitty” so you would all say.

Oh, did I mention I’m very good at my job?...Always...

So there I am...Um, working...When one of my regulars – a Bosmer called Maglir – comes back from a job for his Fighters Guild shaking like a leaf. “I’m not going back there” he wailed. Later, having calmed him down, I asked what had happened. He told me of a cave full of Zombies.

The idea makes me shudder even now...So wrong...Anyway, he said it was just too much for him. Not worth losing his life to do a stupid job like that.

A week or so later into my life walks another giant, this one in almost full Ebony armour; except for the Dwarven helmet - You notice that sort of thing - Anyhow, Maglir told me later he was a Nord called Farn. When this Farn had returned a few hours later with the journal that had been Maglir’s original contract, and offered him the chance to take it in himself, Maglir had told him to do whatever he wanted. “I’ve a wife and kids to think about” he’d said. Later, I’d asked him about that. “No, I haven’t a wife. It always gets the good guys going though.” He’d said, ”Heh...Still, I’ve been thinking about it lately...Do you want to get married?...To me perhaps?”

Oh Oblivion...

I’d said yes - We got married.

We took the money that I’d re-made the...Um...Hard way, and bought a cabin in Bravil. Not the prettiest but it was ours.

Maglir, after a few months of dull grind with the Fighters Guild got a better offer. More money, better weapons.Safer he’d said. The Blackwood Company they called themselves.The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end when he said the name. I explained about M’dssark and the Blackwater, but he’d said I was being silly. ”Nothing to worry about”.

I saw that Nord walking through Bravil one day as I was going to my work in the castle (Maglir had mentioned my natural talents.)

No, not them.

The scouting ones we’d been honing...Um...

Anyways, the Bravil Guard (Yes I know...a girl’s got to eat though.) they needed help in the forest, and had asked me to help that morning.

Farn had looked at me through that helmet. I couldn’t see his eyes, but I knew he was looking at me. I almost ran.

A month later Maglir was called to Blackwater headquarters in Leyawiin. He’d told me to wait for him in Bravil as he wouldn’t be long. But the Guard, they’d asked me to help track a troop of Goblins headed towards Leyawiin - We got them - So I found myself in Leyawiin. I’d asked at an Inn for directions.

I was walking along the street.

It was the noise that got to me.

Heavy, thick, reinforced doors splitting, disintegrating, then crashing into the road. My brilliant, wonderful, funny and happy Maglir. His broken body pinned to what was left of the doors by an Ebony Claymore. Gods only know how hard that had been thrown.

And then, out of the shadows walks Farn.

He looks about at the stunned spectators, daring them to say something...Anything...Oh Gods why couldn’t the Guard do something?

Then...

And then he looks down the road, right at me. He raised his hand and I ran so fast.

I’ve never seen where – or if - my Maglir was buried.

Kynraeth bless him...

Even though I’ve been back there, I’ve never been able to find out from anyone.

Poor Maglir...

I even left the little shack in Bravil...Couldn’t face staying there anymore.

Damned Farn...Damned Nords...

Damn...

So then the “truth” comes out in the Courier about how Blackwood have been using mind-altering drugs (sooo different from using magic to help you fight, of course...) to help them fight and it caused them to do horrible, disgraceful things.

Well, maybe they did kill an entire village to get at some goblins; But still, not my Maglir, surely?.

Oh, and then they make Farn head of the Fighters Guild?

No. Justice. Ever.



---------------------------------------------------------------



So a short while later, the world goes to ruin. The Emperor betrayed by his Dragon Guard. The desperate and doomed flight underground. Oblivion gates all over Tamriel. No-one dared travel for so many weeks. Not with all the Deadra everywhere.

Suddenly out of all the horror came the saviours of everything. We’d all heard the rumours, The Knights of the Nine had returned!!

It sounded so...Amazing.

Truly...

But slowly and surely, they were everywhere. Around the country gates were closed by knights, clad in white tabards, with a red diamond on the chest.

Or something like.

Out of nowhere, one name was suddenly everywhere - Robert McWylde, Commander of the Knights.

Finding a lost heir to the Empire; Closing gates; Thwarting a cult.

A saving the Count of Cheydinhal’s son here, one running into a Gate alone and saving Bruma from a Siege-Engine there.

Damned Mr Perfect...

He’d even gone one-on-one with the Daedric Prince himself...And lived...

Just four of the Knights had gone to the Imperial City with the heir. How quickly would it have ended with more?

Ah, they’re not all Gods...Just...Most of them.

At the end of it all they’d named McWylde Champion of Cyrodill. At the ceremony he’d been all gracious and named all the knights that had helped, saying that they too were deserving of being named Champions as were all the Imperial Legionnaires and City Guardsmen that had sacrificed so much, but sadly he didn’t know their names.

Chancellor Ocato had simply joked “We can’t make enough suits for you all”.

McWylde had accepted the suit, but chose to put it on display at the Priory of the Nine in tribute to everyone rather than abandon his Crusader armour.

Oh and then he got married and the world went crazy...Again...Damned Courier.

Rumour has it that McWylde was Legio Elitarii. The Emperor’s Own they called them; Under the command of no-one but the Emperor (hence the name I suspect.)

Not just the best of the best, but better than that even.

Bet that stung Marick Gellert.

Another rumour is that Gellert was prevented from joining by the Emperor himself for some reason.

Still, Gellert got promoted to Imperial Commander and the Legion’s vaunted Dragon Company got formed out of it all. And while everyone was marvelling at their exploits and grandstanding, the Elitarii were always quietly and efficiently doing their job.

Well...That’s the rumour anyway...

For some reason the Emperor turned McWylde loose to go find the Crusader armour - We’ll probably never know why.

Maybe things were worse than we all thought...Anyhow, the rest is history...

Aren’t biographies great? I hardly ever read them myself.

The First Edition in Imperial City has many good ones...So I’ve been told...

Damn...

Damned damn...



-----------------------------------------------------------------------



Anyway, from then on the Knights of the Nine grew, until they had a Chapter in every city. And then they get their own city.

The Elder Council and all the city rulers and dignitaries - in their mighty wisdom - gave them an old ruined city to rebuild.

New Kvatch it’s called.

Catchy name...Guess where the site of that was?...

Took them ages to clear the ruins and re-do.

Nice job they did too...I must admit...



----------------------------------------------------------------



As for me...

I drifted from city to city, job to job - Always very good at them though. I had an incident with a despicable, horrible man in Skingrad (again, guess where I worked...Very good...) called Glarthir which led to some odd man called Lucien coming into my room to offer me a job - Well, a girl’s got to eat hasn’t she? - So off I run to an Inn of Ill Omen...(A little on the nose, but who am I to question?)...I kill some strange little man who I have no idea about; then I meet up with the Lucien who tells me of a house to go to in Cheydinhal.

When I get there, I discover that it’s all going on downstairs.

No, I mean...Nevermind...

Through a portal in the cellar, expecting some sort of greet, what do I find? - Everyone’s dead. Except for a little Wood-Elf, in a Knights cuirass. ”Hello,” he says, “I’m afraid they’re closed for business.” He narrowed his eyes “Best run along...Now.”

I ran...

Lucien turned up dead in Skingrad - Thrown out of a window into the street. Not getting up with his neck bent that way...Or that axe in his head.

Bosmer lady Knight this time.

I ran...

*Sigh*



---------------------------------------------------------------------------



Two years ago...

By now I was living in Anvil, helping out on the docks. Not as much fun as before but – you know – A girl has got to eat.

One day a man called Jayred Grice turns up at my door. A handsome older man, (so far as I’m a judge), whitening hair, intelligent eyes, Fantastic smile. Spoke with a drawl, like honey.

He was an ex-Dragon Company officer that had, with a “silent partner”, just started a new honest mercenary company called - Wait for it - The Dragon Company.

They were trying to reclaim his and his Company’s honour he’d said. Amongst those he’d recruited were a couple of ex-Bravil Guardsmen who had told him of me and my astounding scouting abilities - See, very good. Anyhow, he’s been trying to get his company off the ground; try to take some of the work that the Fighters Guild and even the Knights have been flooded with since the Crisis.

It was not going well.

Too much bad feeling attached to the name it seems; even if it had been proved that not all the Dragon Company had had anything to do with betraying the Emperor.

The Investigato had proved Jayred and some of his co-horts innocent.

But Grice was not for changing it, said he would succeed even if it killed him.

”Besides,” he’d said, smiling, “It’d cost too much to change the armour.”

A dragon - shockingly - rendered as if flying to the left but its tail curled around to form the outside of the G.

Very clever I must say.

Sign of a man with too much time on his hands maybe.

But I digress...

After a few months it was obvious that it wasn’t working and Grice was sullen, which was an mood I’d never thought to see on that man.

To try and help him up I...Offered myself to him.

My most figure hugging dress...You know how it goes...

”Bless you ‘Sheena,” he’d said smiling – finally! ”You do flatter an old soldier...But we can’t.”

My heart sank.

”Oh no...” He added, seeing the look on my face, “Nono; I think you’re beautiful...I really am flattered. But for one I am still your boss, and for another...My...Partner doesn’t hold with...” Jayred paused, wincing “with other...Species...

“I’m so sorry ‘Sheena...”

I saw apology, regret and shame in his eyes, and I believed his apology, absolutely.

To try and diffuse the...Tension...He started to tell of something he’d been thinking about.

“I’ve been thinking of moving the business...Elsewhere.” He’d looked me straight in the eye before he said, ”Elsweyr...”

Oh how my heart had leapt!!

Grice was basically planning a Fighters Guild style group but in Elsweyr.

”Seems it might work better there,” he said, “as they don’t seem to care who we were...”

I was to be in charge of the teams!!

Grice was coming too but I was his...Liaison?...Strange word, but basically I was to be the one that looked after the troops, report back to Jayred, and all the while still handling the big jobs that needed my help.

I was to be a busy-Kitty again!

We got rich!

We made so much money even the lowest ranks were well-off. Who’d have thought that a country with such tension would need such help.

But who am I to complain...

Grice would hold feasts for the troops to celebrate.

Usually, after the drink had flowed, he’d tell us all stories of the Glory Days of the old Dragon Company and Marrick Gellert.

One night I remember with a shudder was when one young boy (Damain, his name was) asks with total innocence,

“Was there anything that Gellert was actually afraid of?”

A jeering and laughing clamour had erupted around the tables. But Grice had smiled genuine warmth towards the boy.

“Yes son, he was afraid of only two things in his life...” He’d paused, ”Robert McWylde and Farn Olfsson. If you ever get on the wrong side of either of them...Run...Just run...”

He then told us the story of when on patrol, Gellert, himself and two more had managed to let themselves get ambushed by Ogres - The crowd had laughed.

”Yes I know, not the stealthiest of creatures, but there you go. So here we are, fighting for our lives against the damned things, and even that Dragon-hammer’s hardly denting them.

"All of a sudden one of them falls flat on their face...Well, with a warhorse landing on their head you’d think it wouldn’t have a choice.

"Farn..."Grice paused and looked those closest to the front in the eyes, "Looking at him I couldn’t decide which to be more scared of - Him or the Ogres.” Grice smiled; more laughing, “He took it all in in a second, jumped off his horse – which promptly took on another Ogre itself – ripped the hammer from Marrick’s hands and hurled it at the nearest Ogre.The hammer took its head off. I think the two that were left after the horse’d trampled the one he’d been hammering must’ve realised what was coming and tried to escape." Grice shook his head at the memory, "Anyone ever heard an Ogre scream?..I don’t think many have...

”Once it was all over Gellert had tried to thank Farn for his help. The Nord had simply stared at him, got on his horse and left. Marrick was ill for a couple of weeks following that. We covered for him, but the three of us who’d been with him thought we understood what had happened - Gellert wasn’t as all powerful as he’d believed himself...Seen quite how human he actually was...

"Mind you against Farn I think anyone’d doubt himself...So yes, Gellert was afraid of something...”

“What about McWylde?” Damain had asked.

Jayred smiled and simply said - “Next time...”



------------------------------------------------------------------------



A month ago...

We found the damned things in a cave outside Corinthe.

The cave had seemed unremarkable, but someone had pulled the entrance down leaving just the hole in the mountain to say it had been there.

Farian, our Battlemage had been sure there was something inside, so we took the time to clear and prop and boslter.

Wish we’d not bothered.

As soon as we get inside, the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Three of these things are in there. They made straight for Farian. He’d tried to defend himself but the first one got to him; And then the world went mad again.

The creature had simply put his giant hands either side of Farian’s head. The mage had screamed briefly, then just stopped.

Then out of his mouth came words, but not his...Sounded so strange...

“Nnn...No...No Hurt...Feed...Please...Alone...Long...”

“What do you need?” I’d asked terrified of the answer.

Well, then the damned thing’s mouth opens up and a ball of light comes out.

Next thing there a boar standing in the middle of the room - So I guess it eats boar, not people - We fed them, they let Farian go, and we go back to base with the promise to return having sealed the cave up.

Back there we tell Grice of the monsters.

Damain turns out to be a bookworm and does some research.

Couple of days later he comes back with an answer, ”Could it be these?” he’d asked, pointing to a pict in the book.

Oh Oblivion...I won’t say the name...

Even the name scares me...

But they’re so old...I thought they were all gone...

“We need them,” says Grice, suddenly vicious, ”My partner will want one too...Hope they don’t get separation stress...”

“We need to ask them first...” I’d said...”I don’t think we’d be able to make them do anything.”

Damain coughed, “It says here that to deal with...” He’d gestured to mean the whole world “Everyone else...they always need...The One...To be the focus...Which I think means what they did to Farian...I think...He has to be a mage...”

Damn.

Damned Damn...

Prisoners.

Grice was actually more vicious than I’d thought.

We’d raided a fort nearby a few days ago and taken a few of the Conjurors alive. He’d given them all a choice - help us, or be turned over to the tribes for punishment. Most chose to help, but we only needed the three.

So the “lucky” few were put on a cart and taken to the cave.

I couldn’t watch.

When it was all over, Grice – who’d come with us – Talked to the creatures.

“Why were you in here?”

“People...Feared...Pull...Down...Wrong...No Hurt...”

“Will you help us? We know what you can do.”

“Do Not...No Hurt...Yes Can Help...No Hurt...”

Grice had paused, admiring the creatures; possibly wondering how to phrase the next part, “We need to send one of you away...Somewhere far...Can we do that?”

“All Places One...We All Places Together...Far...Near...All One...We Hear...Yes...Send...”

And just like that, we had three ancient, presumed extinct creatures working with us.

Jayred had sent a message back to Cyrodill, telling of the prize.

A couple of weeks later the message returned that the “Partner” was as excited as Grice and that transport should start straight away.

Guess who was given that job?

Oh yes...Me...The curse of being very good I suppose.

I was given the location to head for with instructions to meet the local party near Anvil.

Oh it was going to be strange going back there after so long, but it was only for a short while.

“Two things,” Grice had said to me before a couple of days before I’d left, “Leave the uniform behind...No, I didn’t mean that...” He’d smiled,” I mean you can’t have anything linking to us if...Anything happened...Gods forbid...Oh, and the other thing...My partner’s people may not be so...Courteous towards you...Just ignore them...Ignorant fools...”

He’d given me a kiss on the cheek and after that didn’t see him before I left.



----------------------------------------------------------------



Now...

Damn.

Damned Damn...

We’re here.

Fort Freedom.

We avoided everyone and everything getting here, and what do we find when we get to the gates off the road?

Nothing.

No-one.

The local Captain that met us was worried as there should be at least a couple of guards here.

He’d suggested so politely that myself and a couple of the other scouts go ahead to check around the fort to see what could have gone wrong.

Well I’ll tell you what went wrong...

Damnable Knights, that’s what.

Why in Oblivion are they here?

Who is this damned partner?

I found their horses in the woods around the side of the fort, guarded by a Dunmer and one of those damned Wraiths they can call.

I couldn’t get close to the Dunmer without alerting the Wraith, so I headed for the fort itself.

Damn...

The ever feted J’Drell.

Judging by the amount of horses, there’s more inside...

What is he doing?...

Why is he moving like that?...

I’ve seen stealthier Mudcrabs...

What the?...

What’s that?...

I think they’ve found one of the others...

Damn...

I must get back to the rest...What?...Aaaah!...

Oh, no!!...

Damn...

Damn damn!!...

Gods not like this...

Not here...

I stand up from an oh so pretty body...With a dagger through its neck...we were once an I, a person...Now we don’t remember her name...Now we don‘t remember I...The Great Pride calls us...We are all the Great Pride...The Greatest One calls me to run...

I run...

Wow. Um- let me see if I can be more articulate than that- give me a minute....

Welcome to the Arena!

The voice- the telegraphic pace- the HEART of this... just bowl me over. Yes- fine, one who KNOWS the Oblvion plot will get more out of it. And so what? Look at the vast majority of fan-fics posted here.

This story just grabbed ahold of me and did not let go- I feel as though I have run from Anvil to Cheydinhaal.

And the best part of all- "heroes" aren't heroes to everyone... all depends on where you are standing.

Minor grammatical (hey former teacher of English- what can I say?) nit-
check your use of "it's." The correct place for that is the contraction of "it is." As in "It's a long, long way to Tipperary." For the possessive- no apostrophe "The thrice-damned will'o'wisp held its ground."

Most places you have it right- two I saw otherwise were describing the Dragon Company symbol and near the end.

...Wow...Thank you so much...An update is coming as soon as I get round to editing the next section, but I had to say thank you...Appreciated...

Oh, btw...Nit-pick away!...Grammar was never my strong point...Or punctuation...Or spelling...Or actual story content... ...

Think I got the ones you said about...Cheers...

Absolutely loved your rapid-fire narrative style of writing in the beginning - slips in the funniest lines so quickly they can almost be missed - almost, lol.

Ras’sheena ending up Maglir's wife was hysterically funny, but sad at the end.

First off, I love the recurring line, "A girl has got to eat" - and the job history that goes along with it !!

Second - absolutely love how you reshape history of the quests in this! I was rolling on the floor laughing over the Dark Brotherhood changes - especially Lucien's fate !!

Now enters The Dragon Company - great name !!


... .... ... URK !!! Did Ras’sheena die? ARGH !!!


Great Write !!! A little fast, and at over 3800 words - a little long. Still, a Great Write !!!

Oh wow is right. I love your story already. I think I get the bit at the end. But I’ll have to wait and see. I am really looking forward to more!!

Thank you both very much...I appreciate that it's long and I thank you for taking the time to read it all...Many thanks... ...

And now...This...



Knights Of The Nine – New Kvatch:

Vol. 1. - Dawn At The End Of The Knight.

1.1 Capture.



"I do not know why I have no trust for the man. He has never given me pause to think his devotion is anything but absolute. He has done all that I ask, more than I have asked time and again. So why do I feel he will be the death of me?

Damnation Gellert, what are you about? And where the hell is McWylde when I need him?"

- Taken from the diaries of Uriel Septim, discovered by Wulff Olfsson in the remains of Cloud Ruler Temple, Rain’s Hand 3E 637.



‘It really was a beautiful weapon,’ thought Caroline McWylde as the Imperial Dragon Warhammer came down slowly - it seemed - a finger’s width from her head. She noted the fine relief worked dragon motifs that seemed bathed in fire from the reflected wall-lamps playing along the length of the slab of Nordic Dragon-smelted Iron that made up the head. She marvelled at the gold-leaf work down the length of the hammer’s Carpacite shaft, so ornate and finely worked that even now – despite the action that she’d seen herself, fighting beside the man opposite all those years ago, nevermind what other work it’d been through since – it showed no sign of wearing. She was even now amazed by the length of Dragon bone that had been magically bonded to the shaft and had then been carved to perfectly fit the grip of Imperial Commander Marrick Gellert - as he’d been then at least – Hero of the Empire, Champion of and to the Imperial Legion, now just another fugitive Marauder, this one operating out of Fort Freedom, an hour’s hard ride south-west of Kvatch.

She’d called on the speed fortifier. Her normally green eyes shining white from the use of Magic, Caroline rushed inside the reach of the hammer. Gellert didn’t have time to blink as Caroline brought her Ebony booted foot up and into her former Commander’s knee, folding it back the wrong way. The scream died in his throat as the breath was knocked from his lungs by the flat of the Ebony longsword coming down across his back and sending him sprawling onto his face.

“The trouble with fighting someone you know so well,” said Caroline, “Is having to wait for that one mistake. But you always did manage to make one mistake, didn’t you?

“Alix killed Derment and left me alive down there. The safest place I could have been it seems. One mistake.”

She smiled to herself as she caught her breath, but then called the magicks, raised her strength and picked up the Warhammer. She walked over to where he lay and leaned down near his ear, “This,” she spat, “was a gift to the best. That has not been you for such a long time.” Caroline hurled it at the other side of the room, shattering a stone block. “WHY?!!” She screamed at his prone body, “DAMN YOU!!” She roughly turned him over and dragged him to sit against a wall. “So, you betray everything and everyone for a chance at what? The Emperor gives you it all, money, fame...His absolute trust...And you let Mythic Dawn in?” She looked down at the floor as she refused to let him see her eyes filling with tears. “And then what? With the Emperor and – apparently - all his heirs dead, the Dragon Company’s mighty Hero rules from the Dragon Throne and makes everything all better?” She laughed grimly, “Did you really believe that Mehrunes Dagon would simply give you Tamriel to rule? Alone? He was determined to turn the world into another realm of Oblivion for The Gods’ sake. Or were you thinking you could use your charms on a Demon Prince? Maybe get him to leave it all as it was, just for you?” She backed away to sit on a nearby crate.

“Well,” came the former Imperial’s reply, “He was certainly more receptive to ideas than you ever were.” She looked away with a wince.

“Oh, you always were soo idealistic and naive weren’t you Caroline? Always willing to believe that we were a perfect band of Legion brothers, and that the whole of Cyrodill was a perfect little utopia, where everyone and everything could live in peace, happiness and contentment, watched over by our great and benevolent father – The Emperor.” Gellert sneered at her. “And now your pathetic beliefs in the weak are on show for all to see.”

Gellert raised a hand as if to indicate the Knights of the Nine cuirass. Caroline realised his intent too late, and that even now part of her was far too trusting where this evil creature was concerned. Seemingly without conscious thought she raised her lightning shield magicks and closed her eyes expecting nothing but to be thrown across the room. Wincing - despite herself - at the noise as the shock-spell went wide. She heard the Marauder cry out, in obvious agony. Re-opening her eyes quickly, she saw Gellert holding his now bleeding arm in shock at the dagger handle now protruding from it.

“Really Caroline, your husband would be most cross with me if he thought I’d let you fall for that old trick.” Said a voice from the doorway to her right. She noticed the green afterglow of the Wood-Elf’s powerful Invisible spell’s premature end still fading.

“Galasafon!” she cried, “What? But I didn’t know you were with us.” Caroline paused, frowned and asked sighing, “Did he ask you to follow me?”

“Well...Maybe...Yes, he did...But the Commander knew – Akatosh damn him – that I had my own reason to follow and...Protect.”

Caroline nodded her thanks to her friend and turned to look on her would-be murderer. She took a step towards Gellert, putting her hand on the pommel of her sword.

“Careful Wylding. That,” he pointed to the sword, “would be murder.” Galasafon quietly said, “Do not become like that...” Indicating the prone Marauder.

“Soo,” Gellert said with obvious discomfort, “Still dragging your little pets with you?..Where’s that little Eldarb*tch you were never far away from?”

The man cried out loudly but briefly as Galasafon non-too-gently retrieved his knife.

“Oh dear,” the Wood-Elf observed “Seems to have fallen asleep...Still, it will give him a nice surprise when he wakes in the Kvatch gaol.”

“You can keep him asleep till then?.”

The Wood-Elf gave her a dark look. “Oh yes...”

Another Knight rushed into the room, her eyes glowing purple with the life sensing magic. “Caroline we...GAH!!...” The Wood-Elf Aeirawen started as she noticed Galasafon standing beside the body. “How in Oblivion can you hide from...Nevermind,” pointing at Gellert she said, “We must move him...Now...More of his cohorts are returning, and I fear that even Thedret and J’Drell will be overwhelmed.”

Aeirawen turned a loving look on Galasafon and then was gone.

Caroline once more looked down at the man who’d once given her so much hope for the Empire and then betrayed it so completely. She pointed at Gellert then walked out simply saying, “Bring that...”...

Galasafon, noticing a glint from the other side of the room, went over to the far wall.

“What a beautiful weapon...” He noted, picking the Dragon Warhammer up with one hand. He walked towards the door, waved his other hand in the direction of former Imperial Commander Marrick Gellert and levitated the unconscious body out of the bowels Fort Freedom and up towards the dawn...

Now you're talking !! WHEW !!! This is AWESOME !! And gives us an intriguing glimpse into your creative mind and abilities !! MORE MORE !!! Awesome Write !!!

’Bosmer lady Knight this time...’
Really have to watch out for those Bosmer lady knights.

Welcome to the forums and glad to see you posting your story here! Your style is brisk, crisp and fun to read.

Cheers muchly!!... ...

mALX - Cheers and probably best you don't get more than a glimpse into that mind... ...

And Acadian - Cheers for the welcome...I was just playing Aeirawen (The BLK) in the real world...She does like her axes!)...

Been having issues with Ibuprofen for a sprained wrist...Who giggled?...Who giggled!!!?...It was a "Tractor Accident"...No, I mean a tractor accident which jarred it last week, and the Ibuprofen has been playing havoc with me getting up...STOP GIGGLING!!!...I mean waking up in a morning...The delicate little flower that I am...So updates will be a week apart probably...

Probably... ...

Oh McB I would not laugh at your pain (snigger), I know all too well the gentle constitution of the male of the species, I do have two sons....and have fired two husbands. So it is understandable.

Your story is going well thus far, it took me a second read to accustom myself to the style but I LIKE IT. Keep em coming

was a "Tractor Accident"...No, I mean a tractor accident which jarred it last week

As long as you did not say "HEY! Watch this!" just before it happened, it is OK.

(If you need an explanation, apply to Athynae, mALX, or Grits).


[Will comment on story this evening.]

SPEW!! "Tractor Accident," huh? (choke, giggle) Er...where you wearing anything particular at the time? Seriously, hope you get feeling better soon.

My sympathies on your *cough* "Tractor Accident." (Never heard it called that before...) No, really. I hope your wrist feels better soon.

Just to clarify before we all get into trouble for being just a smidge off topic...Should have called it Tractor Incident...

Being as brief as I can...

Boss ploughed field (I work on a farm...You may have guessed this already...), I then work field with thing called a harrow which breaks up ploughed furrows...Ploughing is done up and down field, but the ends go in opposite direction which leaves big wavey things and dips in the corners between...Basically there was an incident where the tractor wheel went down one of these corner dips while the steering wheel was turned, and as I was holding it quite firmly...Stop it...The steering wrenched around and sprained my wrist...Much swelling and grinding and mui painkilling drugs!!...Have stopped now though...Back to story...

Many thanks for the sympathy...*Bows*...

URK! Sorry for your injury! Hope you get feeling better soon!

I apologise if my previous post sounded kinda short...Therein is proof of why you shoudn't rush post last thing at night... ...

Honest, more story coming soon... ...

New parts for you!!!... ...

If I've missed anything, please be gentle... ...

The clocks went back in the UK last night, but I'm not allowed the hour extra in bed, due to my...SnassnFrassn...Work...Bloody doing a favour for the boss... ...Aaamywho, it's currently saying 3.30am on the BBC News channel...*Winces*...

Heh... ...D'you know, I've never really noticed what such an old woman I am...Always complaining... ...

Anyhow...

This...



1.2 - Outside.



FAO Meister Modryn Oreyn,
Fighters Guild-Hall,
Chorrol.

Dear Meister Oreyn,

It is with regret that I must inform you that we have to expel your nephew from the University.

He is a bright, hard working, ever charming and brilliant student. I have nothing but praise for him as a person, and wish him nothing but the best for his future.

However he is undiscipline-able. That is to say. He is not able to stay within the magical discipline that is presented to him. And everything he does in class causes considerable chaos and consternation.

Also, despite all attempts at removal, his “Uncles” continue to be an absolute distraction to all the University’s residents. Especially in the dormitories. The other students have been terrified to wake up to one or the other hanging over them. This is unacceptable.

I regret that this action must be taken, and I shall send whatever aid I can through Archmagister Teekeeus at the Chorrol chapter of the Mages Guild. But it is for the best of the University and its students.

Again, kind regards towards Kelleryn, your good self and your Guild-Master.


Yours regretfully, Hannibal Traven (Archmage).




The recently be-knighted Kelleryn Oreyn retrieved the dagger from the Khajiiti, and offered a prayer to commend her soul to The Nine. Wiping the blood on the dewy grass, Kelleryn looked up at the two moons fading in pre-dawn light. Reciting the names of both in all the languages of Tamriel, and briefly listing the names of the mare to be seen on them, he then looked to the east to try and gauge the hour...

“Well, not long and we won’t have the luxury of darkness to cover us.” He turned to his Ancestor Guardian, “I do hope Knight-Marshal McWylde snares her quarry soon.” Then, indicating the kill he said, “We should go and report this to Knight-Marshal J’Drell.” With that, he gestured for the ghost to follow towards the Fort’s main entrance where he knew the Marshal was crouching behind the forewall.

Kelleryn moved swiftly but as stealthily as was possible - for him - towards the fort. He paused behind the trees which lined the broad entrance causeway. The Elf then looked back towards the arch, where the causeway met the main road from Anvil, and saw the massed group there.

“Oh...” he started.

“Careful,“ said a voice by his ear, “you wouldn’t want us telling your Uncle Modryn that you’d picked up our colourful language now, would you?”

Spinning around, Kelleryn instantly had his staff in one hand and his Ebony shortsword in the other.

“C’mon kid, I’d have had time to make breakfast while you were spinning,” said a Redguard knight, now a short way off.

“Sir Deaconsson!” Kelleryn exclaimed in a forceful whisper. The ghost moaned his disapproval.

“No names dammit!” the knight came back. “No names while we’re out here, and while I get that he – for some reason – won’t disappear,” the knight pointed to the ghost, “can you try and send him off a little so we don’t have a big light saying ‘here we are’ following us?”

The Ancestor told Kelleryn what he thought of that.

“Yes, well...Sir Deaconsson may have a point Honoured Uncle...Please could you go and see if Uncle is okay with the horses”. The ghost moaned and pointed at Sir Deaconsson then sped off through the trees in the direction of the horses.

“You mean to say that the Wraith is called Uncle too?” asked the Redguard.

“Yes, the wraith is called Uncle”

“How does that not get confusing?”

“What do you mean?” asked Kelleryn.

“Isn’t the ghost called Uncle too?”

“No,” replied the Dark-Elf, “He’s called Honoured Uncle.”

Sir Deaconsson regarded the Elf. Average height, passably strong – if a little thin - body, blue-black hair framing a face with pleasant features possessed of a natural tendency towards smiling...Occasional sadness in his eyes maybe. He’d only met Kelleryn late afternoon yesterday, but Deaconsson could tell already that the Elf’s magic was strong. He seemed to be conjuring something constantly, possibly even unconsciously. Even now he could see the light escaping from his mostly closed hand. And as for how in The Nine’s name the kid could keep the Guardian and the Wraith alive at the same time and over these distances was beyond the Redguard.

“Riiiight,” replied Sir Deaconsson, “C’mon, they’ll be waiting.”

They crossed the remaining distance quickly and joined J’Drell behind the wall.

“Ooooh,” said the silver-blue Argonian J’Drell “Bless-ed are we to be joined by our newest friend. What brought you from your appointed task little Elfling?”

“Knight-Marshal, Honoured Uncle saw a Khajiiti scouting out the horses, so we followed her. She was about to...Leave...When I had to stop her.”

“Yeesss, I saw,” The big Argonian replied “I had been...Distracting the three of them for a while...To aid your quests.”

“Three?” Asked Kelleryn.

“Yeesss, yours – good job by the way, nice throw...Yeesss...Praise be to your tutors newest Knight-friend...Oooh, and young Deaconsson there took care of his – not unsurprisingly – and then there’s Friend Sir Thedret who will be joining us from over there on the left,” The Argonian’s eyes shone like a mirror and he put his head over the wall, “any time...Now...”

There was the briefest whisper and a knight slowed to a stop and crouched behind the wall.

“Dammit, he put a hole in my best chainmail...”

“Ooooh...Are you wounded much?” The Argonian asked.

“Just a little. Lucky swipe is all. I’ll live though.”

“Oh well,” said the Argonian, “Shame. I’d best move my stuff out of your house again then. Your wife will be disappointed. She does so love my baubles.” He grinned.

As J’Drell finished this taunt and Thedret had mock-glared at him, the Argonian placed his glowing hand to Thedret’s side to check his wound.

“Damn,” J’Drell sighed, his fins drooping, “easy enough to heal...You’ll feel nothing soon...Oh well...Nevermind...Bless-ed are you...”

Thedret smiled his thanks to his friend and resumed his look out.

Kelleryn took in his surroundings. He found himself considering the horses...Being watched by a ghost and a wraith seemed to put most anyone in an agitated way, let alone a horse. Still, the Knights’ horses could probably deal with pretty much anything.

He smiled to himself as he thought of his company. Sat here right now were two of the most celebrated Knights of The Nine. J’Drell and Thedret.

Sir James Thedret had been one of the original knights that had been at the reformation of the Knights during the Chapel Murders saga. Sir Thedret's list of accomplishments since were a book in themselves. But he had sealed his immortality with being one of the four Knights of The Nine that had accompanied Martin Septim and his Blades to the Imperial City to battle with Mehrunes Dagon.

J’Drell had been one of those that joined soon after the Ayleid king had been dealt with, but soon he too proved a worthy addition when The Oblivion saga had reared its head. He’d read that J’Drell was one of only three Knights that had faced an Oblivion Gate alone. The village he rescued had now affectionately nicknamed itself “Drell’s Gate” in his honour. He was also one of the four with Martin. And then there was his hunt and the trials for the damned Dragon Company after it was all done.

Thedret and J’Drell. J’Drell and Thedret. Their names always linked together. Now sat here bickering as only two old friends can.

Add these two to the other members of the party, which included the wife of the Knights’ Commander – A Knight-Marshal in her own right – Then there’s Knight-Marshal Aeirawen who together with Marshal Galasafon had hunted the Dark Brotherhood seemingly to extinction.

He’d been told by Deaconsson that out there somewhere were two others, a Captain Marcus Jarn and General Carodus Oholin, chief of the Knights Shadow, and another of the original reformation Knights. There was also a legendary Nord General, two Captains that were slowly growing in fame, Deaconsson here who was headed straight towards the Knights Shadow himself and three other knights that he hadn’t really had time to meet properly, but was sure their worthiness was of no doubt.

“I hope I’m not speaking out of turn Sirs...” Said Kelleryn.

Deaconsson rolled his eyes and said “Which means you probably are...”

“But still, may I ask something?” enquired the Elf.

“Oooh, so many questions!..Excellent, I do so love a puzzle game...” Answered J’Drell. “Please, continue my young new friend.”

“Aren’t we risking a lot of...” He hesitated, “Seniority for a fugitive capture? Surely one of the Captains’ companies could do it just as well?”

“Ooooh, Sir Thedret, heh, he just called you old...”

“Drell, he said senior...As in rank...Not the same...Right kid?..” Thedret narrowed his eyes, “Right?...”

“Yes...I mean no...Um...” He paused, ”Sirs, we have two Generals, four Knights-Marshal, three Captains and five ‘mere’ Knights...I believe that would be very senior people for just a grab?”

“Blessed am I to be amongst all these glitterati!! Where are they youngster? I only see Knights wishing to finish work that was begun many years ago,” Seriously J’Drell said, “There has been much labour and toil and death to get where we are sat here and now. We Must. Not. Fail. That is why we risk this much for that. Do you know who is in there youngster?” He spat and indicated the fort.

Kelleryn shook his head, “I was only asked to accompany by Marshal McWylde, she never said why.”

“He and his let the Mythic Dawn into the Imperial Palace. That’s him in there Oreyn...That’s Gellert!!...He personally murdered Blades, servants and worse – the youngest of the Emperor’s sons had run to him for protection. The b*stard just ran him through.” J’Drell looked sadly toward the ground. “That is why we risk so much.”

J’Drell wrinkled his nose in disgust but then calmed.

“However all this does get old Thedret here some much needed exercise. He was in danger of needing a new size of armour!”

I usually have a lot more to say, what with being so in love with the sound of my own voice (keyboard?), but… This story just bowls me over. The characterization is wonderful, as is the action; the sense of history- individual and world; and the depth of feeling.

Oh the letter from Hannibal is simply priceless. Sounds like Kelleryn and a certain albino Khajiit would have gotten along like naptha and a torch….

The entire section with the Ancestor Guardians and their (completely not confusing to anyone) names was beautiful. That is the kind of character-specific world-building that makes a story sing.



And then--- the banter above. Brilliant.

Followed in perfect narrative sequence with the dark reason behind the Knights’ mission to that place.

Nits:

“…dewey grass…” I believe you want “dewy”- otherwise it is a type of grass named for someone whose goes by “Dewey.”

“two moons’…” Not a possessive here, so no apostrophe.

“Reciting the names in all languages of both…” As written, sounds like the languages are those of the moons… Suggest- “Reciting the names of both in all languages….”

OH- and I simply LOVE the idea of a “mare” in the moons- especially given the (intentional?) pun on the "real" moon's features….

Done!...Cheers... ...

Word kept telling me that dewey was wrong but it didn't look right the other way...So I left it...Duh... ...

Two moons' apostrophe ( ) was left behind from a previous sentence, I missed it in the edit...

It is meant to be (as in pronounced) mar-eh as in the "seas" on our moon...But I don't know how to do the accent thingy on the end of it...I know there's a way...But it's probably technical...And I can push these buttons to make the nice word-y thingies come out...Pretty much my level really... ...

Glad you liked the rest too...Much appreciated...

I read through the first chapter and I enjoyed it for the most part, but I found it difficult to follow what was going on at times.

I do like how our Khajiit always seemed to find herself on the wrong end of the quests we all do in the game. I'm glad she wasn't in the DB for very long, I have a hard time liking murderers.

“…dewey grass…” I believe you want “dewy”- otherwise it is a type of grass named for someone whose goes by “Dewey.”

Ok Trey if you are going to pick a "nit" then it seems only right that someone "nit-picks" on you. I think you meant "...who goes by Dewey".

McB I am really liking the story thus far. Occasionally I have to read parts over for clarity but I am already seeing improvement between the first post and this newest one. You are on a good track with a wonderful story. Your characterization is colorful and interesting.

(Just had to pick on Trey a bit, he's a little OCD when it comes to grammatical errors and such so when I catch him I have to pick on him)

Interesting. You have placed aspects of the Fighters Guild, Mages Guild and Knights of the Nine in a blender with some Bagere sauce and just a touch of catnip.

So Kelleryn and his see through ethereal ancestors are Dunmeri relatives of old Modryn. And Kelleryn is a real Knight of the Nine. But as a mage. . . not so much it seems. I guess that darn Hannibal always has to pee on the imp chips! And Thedret! And his finned friend. Oh and horses. Luvs horses.

Thanks all of you for reading...It's much appreciated...I'm really enjoying writing it...I'm almost regretting that Skyrim's going to put it on hold for a bit really...Almost... ...

KC...Cheers for getting through the first bit...The other chapters are shorter, so should be easier...

Athynae...Cheers for taking the time to re-read it...I keep forgetting it's not tele...And not everyone can see it as it's in my head... ...



Lol...Fair enough... ...

Acadian...

...Really?...Who said that?... ...

Seriously, thanks for not saying "This is sh*te, get off our site...Right now...Oh yeah...Booyah!!..."...Or anything...

Update soon... ...

I love this story! J’Drell is an instant favorite. I am still laughing about Uncle and Honored Uncle looming over the students in the dormitories. And Thedret cursing over the hole in his mail, never mind about the wound, tremendous.

I’m looking forward to more!

Cheers Grits... ...I'm very fond of J'Drell myself, considering when I came up with him in the Game he was an overtalkative cheese stealer... ...

Aaamywho...

New Parts!!... ...



1.3 Duty of Care.



Sire,

Something is very wrong. We cannot find the Olford girl. We’ve looked everywhere. What’s more, two of my Blades have also disappeared. And there’s too many of those damned Dragon Company soldiers about. I tell you something is wrong.

I’ve sent Jena with this note. I pray she gets to you in time.

I’m on my way to you, I just need to check some things. But Sire, find your sons, we need to move you all. Just as a precaution.

I just feel. Wrong.

Your servant, Renaud.

- Note found tucked into one of Uriel Septim’s diaries discovered by Wulff Olfsson in the remains of Cloud Ruler Temple, Rain’s Hand 3E 637.

Found on the bottom of the note were three words – So it begins.




Caroline walked down a corridor which looked much like all the others in these forts. It was some way from the downstairs room where she’d fought Gellert, up to the entrance. She’d yet to find another way out though, some side door, escape tunnel or something. Even the kitchens seemed to unload their supplies through the main doors. But she knew the Imperial wouldn’t be so stupid as to have only one way. Too easy to get...Caught. She paused. The torchlight picked out the copper blonde of her hair. She put her hand to it to smooth down and to push it back from her face.

“Damn...” She said to herself.

She looked up as a Nord came from around a corner.

“General Dinai.” She nodded in salute.

“Ma’am,” replied the older Nord, “We’ve removed the resistance and scoured the remainder of the keep. Unfortunately we’ve developed a problem, which maybe we should have seen coming. There are many non-combatants here – servants, cooks...Dancing girls...” He sighed, “We’ve briefly, superficially questioned them and they’re unaware of who had been here. They believe that they’re in the employ of a local nobleman who keeps a staff here, but never visits. They feed the troops...Any way their job dictates...But nothing more.

“Unfortunately that leaves us with the duty of their care until Captain Holforn gets here.”

Caroline nodded her agreement, “Yes, true.” She sighed deeply, so much for the quick grab and run Caroline thought to herself. Resigning herself to the inevitable, she said to the General, “I was just thinking that Gellert had let himself get cornered far too easily. This isn’t his...Lair. I don’t think he actually knows much about this place.”

She laid a hand on the stone of the wall nearby and closed her eyes. General Mazkay Dinai waited patiently. He’d been around these people too long to question what was happening now. A glow appeared around Caroline’s hand, which danced and weaved around like an aurora.

She opened her eyes again. “He was waiting for something, excited. A prize of some sort. He’d sent his second out to get it some time ago, and he was wondering what was taking so long.”

“I’m impressed Ma’am, you got all that from a stone?” The General enquired his eyes twinkling with a half smile.

“A trick of J’Drell’s. The Investigato use it a lot. He said the University calls it,” she adopted a mock-professorial voice, “Geo-Thaumaturgical-Memoric-Retrieval.”

The General laughed. “Which means what exactly?”

“J’Drell says it basically means ‘The Walls Have Ears’. It’s Mysticism. There’s magic in some of these stones. It hears and sees everything, and then the stones remember.” Caroline patted the Nord’s arm. “You just have to listen.”

Mazkay Dinai shook his head at the thought and then another pressed to the front.

“Ma’am?”

“Yes General?”

“Gellert?”

“Ah yes, he was rendered...Unable to walk...”

“Should I have someone retrieve him then?” The General asked.

“Oh no...It’s quite alright...I’m fine with him...” Said another voice, coming from around the corner.

The Nord granted some measure of impress as Galasafon appeared in the corridor carrying the fugitive Imperial using his telekinesis from one hand and had what seemed to be the Dragon Warhammer in the other.

“Ah, our ever surprising Marshal Galasafon.” Dinai shook his head, “I shan’t even enquire as to how you are now here.”

Galasafon smiled, tilted his head and said, “Orders General...Orders...”

They walked together towards the entrance, passing the obvious signs of a battle. Decorations, furniture and bodies lay strewn about the place. Holforn’s squad will have their work cut out here, Caroline thought.

“What’s the status of our troops General?” Caroline asked.

“Captains Ordan and Royal are securing the remainder of the servants in the kitchens, with Sirs Ralman and Jacks assisting in the guarding of them. The doors down there look thick enough to hold back a full Daedric invasion so holding the area with only the four of them until Captain Holfarn and his team return in the morning...” He paused, “Later in the morning.” The Nord shrugged, ”Should be easy enough. Depending – of course – what we find outside. I fear that we’ve lost the darkness by now.”

-----------------------------------------------

Aeirawen had run from the lower chamber having paused briefly to rid a very forward Imperial of his ability to call anyone such rude names. And really, the suggestions. Surely dinner first? She thought, Maybe the theatre?...But no, just rudeness and a longsword. She sighed and ran out of the entrance to where everyone was cowering behind the forewall.

“Oooh,” said J’Drell, “Our beautiful Bosmer re-joins us at last.”

Aeirawen smiled and crouched with the others.

She nodded greeting to Kelleryn and Deaconsson then said “It’s very cosy here, any closer and I’ll be taking you all home to meet my parents.”

J’Drell smiled, “These walls are put so some damned fool can’t just run a horse and burning carriage from all the way down there straight up into the Fort yard. Curse their lack of foresight in considering us all needing to hide behind it. Total lack of vision. Especially not thinking of Thedret’s ever expansion.”

“Drell, quiet...Something’s happening down there...” Thedret pointed towards the causeway’s end.

“Yes,” Said an Imperial shrugging off his Invisibility, “They’ve been joined by yet another company.”

“Carodus...” Thedret nodded a greeting, “How many’s that now?...We were in trouble before...”

“Well, if it was the seven of us...We may have to break a sweat, but with McWylde, Dinai and the others...”

“Seven General?” asked Kelleryn.

“Yes...” Carodus looked to J’Drell with a question in his eyes.

“Ooooh, meet our newest friend Sir Kelleryn Oreyn.”

“Oreyn?..As in Fighters Guild Modryn Oreyn?..”

Deaconsson snorted and smiled, “Yeah, his Uncle...”

“Ah, of course, the one with the...Impairment.” General Carodus Oholin held up his hand, “I mean no offence Oreyn, to you or your Uncles - Yes I’ve heard their names – I just mean...Your...Gift...It makes stealth...Difficult...Does it not?” He waved the topic away, “That’s for a later discussion, right now we have bigger issues. We’re going to be exposed soon.” The General looked up, “It’s light and we don’t know exactly how many we’re facing but I counted at least fifty.”

J’Drell hissed.

“Plus they have something else.” Continued the Imperial, “They have two large tinkers’ carts, the tall ones with the large wheels for crossing rough country where there’s no roads. There’s something in there. We couldn’t get close enough without feeling like we were about to be discovered.”

J’Drell shook his head, “Where are they getting so many men?..It can’t be a coincidence. I know you removed the guards from down there, but these others must have been coming here for this time anyway? Very paranoid behaviour otherwise.”

“I don’t think they’re all used to working together.” Said General Oholin, “It sounded like they were having problems with who’s in charge. It’ll keep them busy talking it through though.” He looked back down the causeway. “Jarn is watching them and will signal if they’re ready to move. We need to have some sort of plan in place now though.”

“Good idea,” Said General Dinai as he and Caroline ran crouched towards the knights. “Carodus.” He inclined his head towards the other general.

“Ah, Mazkay. Excellent. We need to talk. Over here.”

They crept back towards the entrance. Galasafon and his cargo drew up to them as they moved. “Generals,” He said to them and briefly looked towards the other knights, “As much as it pains me to say this, but may I suggest I return to Kvatch with this before anything else begins? I would hate to lose this grand prize so soon after it was so hard fought for.”

“Good idea.” Said Carodus, he looked to the Nord, “Though we’d need to spare one of the others too. Insurance.”

Dinai looked towards the causeway and back to Carodus with an eyebrow raised in a grim amusement.

Carodus shrugged. “Take Aeirawen, she’s the best rider. She’ll be the most use.”

Galasafon blinked and looked unsure for a moment, “Oh...The horses...Yes...” He nodded, “Generals.” He moved off to the Knights.

The Nord snorted quietly.

“Why is it always about sex with the Elves? Oh, no offence to your wife Mazkay.”

“None taken,” said Dinai with a faint smile.

General Mazkay Dinai was not young, not by any euphemistically twisted imagination was he young, but in the last few hours he’d felt alive in a way he’d completely forgotten about for years. He felt like he had as a Legion recruit again, fighting in Valenwood with all the righteous fury of the young.

With all the love he had for his wife he begged her forgiveness if he didn’t last the coming day, but by the Nine this was going to be fun.

However, Mazkay’s forty years of Legion experience listened as Carodus Oholin outlined the beginnings of a plan.

Another very fun read!

I really liked how Caroline used alteration magic to pull memories from the stones. Perfectly named and very handy indeed!

’Why is it always about sex with the Elves?’ Why indeed?

’However, Mazkay’s forty years of Legion experience listened as Carodus Oholin outlined the beginnings of a plan.’
Masterfully worded here!

Your quality of editing is excellent. I did happen to note a couple teeny things that slipped through however:
“We’ve briefly, superficially questioned them and they’re unaware of who had been here. They believe that they’re in the employ of a local nobleman who keeps a staff here, but never visits. They feed the troops...Any way their job dictates...But nothing more.
You’re missing the closing quotation here.

’He said the University call it,” she adopted a mock-professorial voice, “Geo-Thaumaturgical-Memoric-Retrieval.”
I recommend ‘calls’.

“These walls were are put so some damned fool can’t just run a horse and burning carriage from all the way down there straight up into the Fort yard.
I’d pick one of ‘were’ or ‘are’. Looks like one or the other was left over from a previous edit.

Like Acadian, I thought Caroline's use of magic to pull memories from the stones was a good touch. Very inventive. I like seeing writers taking magic and using it for more than the narrow focus of killing things, as the game presents it.

Also some nice banter in the second part. Thedret's expansion reminds me of some of the sniping between Neeshka and Khelgar.


A glow appeared around Caroline’s hand which danced and weaved around like an aurora.
This was an excellent line. At least what I can see you intended for it was. But it could use a comma between the two clauses. A simple trick I use is to try saying it out loud. When you want to stop for a breath, is usually where you want a comma. Like so:
A glow appeared around Caroline’s hand, which danced and weaved around like an aurora.

You are getting better with the ellipses. This is much easier to read then your first post. But there are still far too many. Even one a paragraph is way overdoing it. Most of the time there is no need for you to use them. For example: This isn’t his...Lair. should just be This isn’t his lair. (note that you want a singular form of lair here also, as it is not a proper noun in this context.

Remember that an ellipsis should be used to indicate an unfinished thought, or a sentence trailing off into silence. You use of it here: “Damn...” She said to herself. was perfect, as we can imagine Caroline's thoughts trailing off after her single curse.

Done...Mostly... ...

Cheers guys...Appreciated as always... ...

Acadian...I'd have thought pulling magical memories from stones would be Mysticism...But I will change it if I can get my head around it... ...Cheers for the things I missed in the edit...Appreciated...Oh, I thought that if someone was carrying on with a speech on a different line you didn't need a closing quotation on the previous one?...I may be wrong...Again, prepared to change it...

SubRosa...*Bows*...Thank you for your kind words...However...Too many...Elipses?...I don't know what you mean?... ...The one with Lair was meant to imply that she was searching for a less...Cheesy word...But thank you so much...

Thank y'all... ...

Please forgive me on a couple counts:

1. I agree that mysticism would be more appropriate. I should have said that instead of alteration.

2. On the dialogue punctuation, my nit was in error; you are exactly right about when carrying dialogue into a new paragraph. It is a technique I never use and learning it long ago obviously eluded me.

I'm so glad you called me on those!

Love the introductory elements- they add so much flavor to the story, giving a sense of the passage of time and the machinations behind the Oblivion Crisis.

Loved the "Walls Have Ears" spell- including the whole discussion of the Uni's "scientific name" for it.



Those darned Imperials and their... um... longswords....

And the last two sentences were simply a treat.

I think an S.G.M. is in order.

Found on the bottom of the note were three words – So it begins.

*shiver*

I love the Geo-Thaumaturgical-Memoric-Retrieval. Great to see the beautiful, scary Aeirawen again.

Cheers... ...

Acadian...What's to forgive?...I feel bad about calling you on it... ...

Treydog...Cheers...What's an S.G.M.? and will I need an overnight bag?... ...

Grits...Many many thanks...

It's heartening and encouraging to read that people are liking the stuff we do, isn't it?...

I'm never sure whether it's vain to admit I get shivers myself sometimes, when I read it back...Probably is...

Carly Simon admitted that that song really is about me you know?...And I was barely an upset stomach for my mother when it came out...That's how vain I am...But anyways...Cheers... ...

SPEW !!! The lette from Traven is priceless !! I nearly choked to death on the "Uncles," lol. Awesome Write !!


These letters that start your chapters are an inspired touch, HUGE addition to each chapter !!!

SPEW !!! This passage was another gem:




Ah, the memory stones! I think Destri touched on them in his "Interregnum!"


Another Awesome Write !! Great job, and intriguing world building !!

Another wonderful read, and I agree with the others, you are doing much better overall. The "read" is getting smoother, a nice flow. Keep it up, keep em coming....

Oh, I had to ask the same question regarding


"So good, more" nah, overnight bag isn't necessary, but it could be fun if it were......

Far be it from me to CORRECT someone else on the forum- (cough cough).

However... the ACTUAL translation is from the Nord-speak:

Story. Good. More.

Was used by some anonymous doggie in regard to minque's story 'cause minque is a "real-life" Nord.

Oh... ...Fair enough...*Puts bag away disappointedly*...

Thank you though... ...Appreciated...

More tomorrow maybe...

mALX...Cheers so much... ...Glad you're loving it...

Athynae...Thank you...Progress is a good thing...

And a good album acutually...But I digress... ...For a change...

Indeed... ...

NEW PARTS!!!... ...

I give up...I tried to stick to a schedule...But I can't...Take your time...They're not going anywhere... ...



1.4 – Old Friends.




...On the day the God War started, the God pulled two souls from the maelstrom and put them down on the fields of Aetherius.

“You have both ever been my Champions.” He said to them.

“Well I never was.” Said one.

The God smiled genuinely at him “I did like you.” Then he said, “I give you both a choice, but once it is made, it cannot be unmade. One choice offers an end. The other...Never. Stay, or go back. But if you choose to go back, there will be consequences, and I will not be able to help you.”

The other looked to someone standing beyond the God. “I’m staying. I can and will do no more. Enough.” He looked at his oldest friend and said goodbye. He looked to the God, nodded, then walked to the someone, and went on.

The God said quietly “As it should be,” then looked at the one and raised his eyebrow.

“Back.” The one said, “And I never was your Champion you know?”

The God laughed. The God put him back in the ruins. The God went hunting...



Taken from The God War, Book 1. – Author Unknown. Discovered in the Great Chapel of Alfarn, Bravil. 4E 01.




Knight-Commander Robert McWylde awoke, still sat in his chair near the hearth. While he had slept, a blanket had been put on him, covering his legs.

The clock on the mantle had the time as five in the morning. Looking about, he could see light through the curtains. Beyond the windows they covered, lay the city of New Kvatch.

Despite the lateness - or even the earliness - of hour, the fire in the grate still had some life, and by the smell there were still torches and candles lit.

He could hear the turning pages of a book somewhere behind him.

Robert looked towards the door and saw the Dark-Elf Maloryn, seeming similarly asleep on a chair with his legs stretched out across part of the door.

Watchdog, McWylde thought to himself.

“Ah, Robert. Excellent.” Said a voice from the other side of the room. “Here, a drink my friend.”

McWylde turned, smiled and extended a hand to his old friend. “Really? Archmage Ormandin playing nursemaid?”

The High-Elf raised an eyebrow in amusement “Yes well, if you tell anyone I shall deny ever knowing you at all.” The Altmer turned his head and gestured to the now fully alert Dark-Elf. Maloryn frowned questioningly but the High-Elf just waved him and gestured as if down the corridor outside. The Dunmer quietly left the room.

Archmage Seri Ormandin sat in the chair on the opposite side of the hearth and stared into the fire for a while. “If I’d known how much that ceremony had taken out of you...” He began.

“Nonesense,” said McWylde, “it’s just been a long few days is all.” He sighed and took another drink of the water. “It’s the curse again. Lighting the Allfire in the Chapel must have taken it out of me somewhat.” He smiled grimly and raised his cup to the fire. “The Nine bless High-Priest Madigan.”

Some High-Priests of the Nine had discussed the fact that the Dragonfires were no longer lit, and therefore Tamriel was still at risk from outside forces. They felt that some barrier needed to be in place. The High-Priest of Zenithar had put forward the idea of the Allfire, the combined might of The Nine. McWylde had been in on the discussions as the representative of Talos, but had remained neutral towards the whole thing. The other priests had agreed – mostly – so he had also said yes. Any extra protection from the Daedra was definitely a good thing.

“Indeed,” Said Ormandin and echoed the salute, “Do not trouble yourself over Madigan, his voice was the loudest in calling for the Allfire to be lit. He knew the risk. Did he not spend many days hereabouts planning for such a possibility?”

“I know,” McWylde’s bright green eyes moistened briefly, “Yes he did. He’d had everything planned.”



----------------------------------------------------------



McWylde thought back just a few days to walking out of New Kvatch's main gate with the High-Priest to see the park overlooking the valley. “Heh, just in case this is the last time I get to see the place eh?” Madigan had said.

“Nonesense my friend, we’ll be here on this bench same time next week.”

A sadness came into Madigan’s eyes, “Bless you my boy,” he’d said patting the side of McWylde’s face. He’d then actually pulled the Knight-Commander’s head down and kissed the top of it! High-Priest of Zenithar, Fadrin Madigan smiled “It has been an honour and a privilege knowing you Robert. Be here for them, always.” He’d gestured to the world.

He sighed, “Such a beautiful world...I have never thought Oblivion was really done with it, my boy. Watch and listen. They won’t shout so loud again.” Madigan looked up and over towards the coast.

“Ach, should be too lovely a day to be talking like this...Help me up my boy, we’ll walk some more.”

They’d walked amongst the young trees, not yet tall enough to produce canopy. “When the ritual is started we can’t stop it. To light the Allfire, the Gods will be called, and though no-one can see them, they will be stood right behind us, and their power will flow through us. I know you are God-blessed already but don’t forget my boy, you are also God-cursed as well. I don’t think any of us will be much use for a while.” He added quietly, “If ever again.”

McWylde had winced but said nothing.

Shortly though, he smiled again as the old priest laughed at a butterfly fluttering from flower to flower and marvelled that Madigan could see Buzzards wheeling over the woods in the valley.

Suddenly the old man stopped. “That’s it...That’s enough.” He took one last look around. “Come on my boy...It’s late, I’m old and I want my tea...” He put his hand on McWylde’s arm, “Love that beautiful woman of yours and curse be damned, have some Damned children! Love them with everything you have to give. Be good. Be careful and always, always keep The Faith Robert.” They started back, “We will both be busy before the ceremony, I may not see you before...Take care Robert.” They’d walked in silence after that.



-------------------------------------------------------



“I refused to say goodbye to him.” Robert said to the Archmage.

“And he’d be the first to cuff you about the ear if he heard you lamenting him like this.”

Robert let out a laugh, “True”.

They sat watching the fire for a while, the door opened and McWylde saw it was Maloryn bearing a tray of bread, cheese, apples and a pitcher of warm honeyed tea.

“Wow Seri, he’s both bodyguard and butler,” marked Robert with a smile.

“Oh yes, man of many talents.”

Maloryn put the tray down on the table and bowed with a smile in his eyes, then went to stand next to the door.

The Knight-Commander of the Knights of the Nine and the Archmage of the Arcane University sat down to an early breakfast.

Robert offered the Dark-Elf some of the tea but Maloryn shook his head once and held a hand up to decline.

“I should have not kept you talking so long last night though,” said the Archmage, “Most selfish of me. Your fusspot assistant thought so too.” He smirked.

“Seri, I have not seen you since you left for High Rock, what was it? Four years ago? Then you just turn up out of the aether as Archmage of the Arcane University? There’s quite a tale behind that.” Robert shook his head, “I think even Tauren will forgive me the indulgence.”

“Yes well, having covered the tale last night, all there is left to say is - I’m sorry my friend, I’m sorry it took an occasion such as this for me to visit. I had all intentions on coming to see your magnificent work here...” Ormandin paused, “But the University was...In disarray...After I had taken care of the Necromancers, it’s taken all of mine and Raminus’ time pulling it all together again. Raminus has been magnificent.

Really, though they made me Archmage, he has as much right to be here, now, as I.” He raised his mug of tea in toast towards Imperial City.

“With all respect to Raminus Polus, I wouldn’t be spending the night talking with him in my personal quarters.” Said McWylde.

“You should come talk with him for a time though. Robert, you know that I can count the people that I call friend on the fingers of one hand. And two of them are in this room. Raminus is one of the others. His stories are easily the equal of mine. His road has been long for a ‘mere’ human.”

McWylde laughed at this. “As have the roads of some other ‘mere’ humans I can mention around here.”

“The Elf-blood that is your grandfather’s legacy makes you more than human.”

“I wasn’t talking about me. Anyhow, soon I shall come visit your towers. I haven’t been near the University for many a year. Not since the Legio training. It’ll be nice to see the place again. And we can talk Raminus to sleep.” He smiled.

Robert turned to look at the clock and sighed.

“Your wife?” Asked Ormandin.

Robert nodded and ate some more bread. “I know it was late when Caroline went, and it’s a few miles up the road but...I can’t shake this feeling there’s something wrong. Very wrong.”

“Oh there is my boy...There really is...” Said a voice from the end of the table.

Immediately McWylde and Ormandin were on their feet, scattering their chairs. Both had called spells to their hands and although McWylde was swaying somewhat, both were standing ready for battle. Maloryn had crossed the room in an instant. His daggers poised, ready to throw.

The stranger was still sat, continuing to eat the block of cheese he’d picked up from the table. He looked up and blinked his eyes at the three men facing him.

“Oh dear, how rude of me.” He said and frowned. The stranger raised a hand and suddenly everything was different. The three were now seated again and all that had been scattered was replaced as it was. Robert noticed the birds’ dawn chorus had stopped and that the clock was also no longer ticking.

Maloryn made to get up but the stranger just looked at him and said “Stay.” Maloryn’s hands seemed glued to the chair and he stopped struggling to get up...”Good boy.” The stranger said.

Robert looked at the newcomer. He seemed to be an older man with short white hair and an unkempt white beard. His eyes seemed to twinkle, as if lit from within. It reminded McWylde of starlight somehow.

“That’s better,” the man said, “No need for all that shooting about, so noisy at this time of the morning. This really is excellent cheese Robert. Skingrad? We never had any like this in my day. Wonder why? Should go and see if I can take some back with me. Yes, I think I might.” The man frowned, seeing the looks on the faces watching him, “What?”

Robert gestured about and then towards the old man. “Oh...Oh yes...How soon you forget Robert.” He changed his appearance briefly and said “Look well on this Chapel of Dibella!” Before changing back to his previous appearance.

“Prophet!” Robert had exclaimed.

“Yes, I was once...For a while...But now I’ve remembered who I am. And I think it’s time I changed things.”

“Talos...” Robert started to say.

“No.” The old man shook his head. “Not Talos. Tiber...”

GAAAAH !!! Tiber Septim returned? ... and ... evil? URK !!! Awesome Write !!!

“Most selfish of me. Your fusspot assistant thought so too.”

Great descriptions that are very fun to read.

So I learned that Robert is the husband of Caroline (I remember her) and the boss of KOTN and old friends with the Archmage himself. I’m guessing this occurred at the Priory of the Nine.

And they were interrupted by the Prophet, only a very, very, even Ninishly powerful one. Tiber. . . .

This is great fun!

Ooopsie...No, it's set in his quarters in New Kvatch...I shall edit that in somewhere... ...

Cheers for noticing that... ...

mALX...Tiber's not evil, why would he be evil?...you'll see... ...

Edit...Done!...

Thank you, it’s perfectly clear now after the edit. The first time through I knew I was missing something about those young trees!

Fascinating developments. The interaction between your characters continues to delight!

This really is excellent cheese Robert. Skingrad? We never had any like this in my day. Wonder why?

Could it be Uuras? How funny. I just wrote a tiny bit with the Cheese Master.

AND IT JUST GETS BETTER AND BETTER!!!! Now you have me on the edge of my seat, next I'll be biting my nails. I really enjoyed the interaction between Robert and Madigan, very touching, depth that was "simple"!! McB do believe you are hitting your stride!!

Athynae...Careful with that seat, or Health and Safety will get me... ...

*Thinks how much is left of this story*...Ummm...Don't start on yer nails just yet...There may be some time to go... ...

But thank you so much for the compliment...

Grits...Yes, I do have to thank Acadian a lot for that...I just hadn't thought...

Ah, what's a story without some cheese?... ...Oh wait... ...

Cheers... ...

NEW PARTS!!!... ...

Last lot before Skyrim...Sadly for you all I may be away for a while...I know...I can hear the cheers from here...

Oh wait... ...

Aaaaamywho...

Previously on KOTNNK...

Our intrepid and fearless band of merry heroes including Caroline McWylde (wife to the Commander of the KOTN), J'Drell the Argonian (Not the Commander's wife) and several other high ranking Knights, travelled to one Fort Freedom in order to capture a traitorous former Imperial Commander Marrick Gellert. On discovering civilians within, it lay to the Knights to protect them from reprisals at the hands of the hoard that had gathered at the gates to the fort...

Or something...



1.5 – Incoming.




...As we discussed earlier, all the magical disciplines fall within rules that have been established since the first casting (Multiple spells from the same discipline reduce effectiveness by a percentage factor. Multiple spells from different disciplines reduce by much higher percentage).

Conjuration, however, appears to be a law unto itself. If we go by the rules as set for the others, Conjuration is an impossibility. Take a simple object or creature - An Illusion given mass by Alteration, with creatures hurling spells of Destruction or using Restoration’s Absorb spells. Without any loss of spell strength?

A full suit of Bound armour - Illusion, Alteration (Shield, Mass), Restoration (Fortifiers) should cause your brain to melt out of your ears. Add into the mix the Bound Weapons – Illusion, Alteration (Mass), Destruction (Damage) and not only are the laws warped but well and truly bent as well.

And don’t get me started on the impossibility of the true Conjured Bow and Arrow spell...



Excerpt from “Notes on Magic Usage” by Francois Jend, Bravil Mages Guild. 3E 602.




Niil Deaconsson was fascinated. He’d tried not staring, and kept looking about to check for anything, but...The shapes in the hand Oreyn had resting on the floor kept appearing, changing every couple of seconds – a cube, an Imp, pyramid, ball, pyramid, strange multi-sided shape, The Great Tree of Chorrol, Cube, Captain Royal...Deaconsson had raised an eyebrow at that. He knew though, that these weren’t just illusions. He knew the difference between an illusion and a conjuration. He also knew that had he reached down at the right time, the imp’s wings would have made a breeze, the tree’s leaves would have rustled if he’d shaken it, not only that, he was sure that there would be pretty much the right amount of individual leaves on it...He shook his head. Power, he thought to himself, the Gods always call power to themselves. Now he smiled to see a children’s raffia-work doll in the hand. Suddenly, it turned its head and “looked” straight up at him. The doll waved its small arm and before he knew it, his hand was waving back. He caught himself and closed his hand, then looked up quickly...Straight into the eyes of the grinning Dark-Elf. And looking over his shoulder was Knight-Marshal Caroline McWylde, wife of the Commander. Reportedly as fierce as she was beautiful. And that was very, thought Deaconsson.

“It keeps children amused for hours too.” Said Kelleryn with a smile.

The Marshall laughed briefly and patted Oreyn on the shoulder then turned back to the others.

Deaconsson mumbled an apology and looked away to the Generals, still discussing the plan. Sir Niil Deaconsson, Redguard knight, born in a small village in the mountains, near the border with Hammerfell. Tried to read lips as the sun came over the horizon.

------------------------------------------------------------------

“So that’s it then.” Said Carodus, “We have them hold the edge and basically form a line in front of the gate?”

“Not much else we can do though.” Said Mazkay Dinai. “We’ve been through this Carodus. Demi-Gods they may be,” he said, pointing to McWylde and the others, “but you cannot take the fight to that many and expect to come out alive. We wait for them to come to us, we use them to keep the enemy in a line, then – with any luck – that lot,” the General said, pointing down the causeway, “will take each other out trying to get to us.”

Carodus Oholin sighed and said – “You can stop that now Deaconsson. This won’t be your kind of fight. Come here and make yourself useful.”

---------------------------------------------------------------

“Dammit!” Said Deaconsson. Kelleryn looked at him. “I think I’m being sent to babysit whoever’s in there.” The pointing Redguard said to him with a sigh.

Kelleryn offered him an open hand to shake. “We must drink together when all this is over. If you wish, I can tell you all about...This.” He raised his other hand and the raffia doll waved frantically at Deaconsson.

Niil laughed, shook the proffered hand and moved off.

“What was that about?” asked Caroline.

Kelleryn smiled and said, “I think, my Marshal, that I have made a new friend this morning and I am pleased.”

Caroline laughed warmly.

“Ma’am?”

“Oh, I think you’ve made more than just the one.” With that, she patted him on the shoulder again and turned back once more to the other knights.

----------------------------------------------------------------

General Carodus Oholin raised an eyebrow at Deaconsson. “Repeat after me. I will not lip-read my Generals who are crouched in the gloom of a gateway very early in the morning and are getting grouchy because they haven’t had their cuava yet...Nevermind. Nice job. Come see me - if we’re both still alive - when this is all over. I may have a job for you. Now go and get Captain Royal. And Deaconsson, tell Ordan I said to do and use whatever it takes to keep everyone alive. He’ll know what I mean.”

Deaconsson replied “Sir.” He nodded to the other General and then ran towards the fort’s entrance.

“We wait some more?” Said the Nord, “ I must say, these enemies are most obliging with giving us this time to prepare.”

“I know what you mean. But so far all they have is a vague disquiet about the sentries and – presumably - by now, the lack of scout reports. I hope Jarn isn’t going to start taking pot-shots at some of them. I like the enemy all the way down there. Gives one a sense of...Contentment.”

Dinai laughed and shook his head. Far too much fun he thought to himself.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Thedret and J’Drell had caught Caroline up on what had happened since the forces had divided at the outset of the assault. She risked a look over the wall. “There’s something about the carts that’s not feeling right. An oversized prisoner? No, there’s something else.”

Galasafon nodded his agreement. “I can feel something...Like a buzzing in my head...Most annoying...” His eyes went wide and he stood up. “Oh no...”

“Galas?” Said Aeirawen.

Suddenly, every one of the knights felt a great pain blossom behind the eyes, three of them felt as though they had red hot steel in their heads.

Kelleryn shouted and held his, banging it against the wall as if that was a more preferable pain.

Galasafon simply stared it down biting his lip. Aeirawen noticed tears running down his cheeks.

“Oooh,” said J’Drell, “Most unpleasant...Gnnnh...At this time of the morning too...Aaahhh.” He held his head, “What in the Gods’ name is doing that.” He knelt up, looked over the top of the wall and augmented his eyesight to look down the causeway. He frowned. “What the hells? Watch out!!”

Suddenly there was a whisper, a bang and then several more as a knight rolled over and over as he hit the ground.

“Jarn!” Shouted Caroline, who then rushed to his help.

Turning away, J’Drell looked down at Kelleryn and then back down the causeway. He moved over to the Dark-Elf and put his hand on his shoulder. “Elfling, fight it.” The Argonian moved his hand to the top of Kelleryn’s head and simply said “Project.”

Kelleryn obediently raised his hand and a shape appeared on the ground in front of him. What the knights saw was monstrous in all ways. As Kelleryn was projecting everything J’Drell was seeing, they could easily tell the scale of the thing, which was terrifying. The monster was easily more than twice the size of the men near it, of which there were – admittedly – few. It could be said that it looked much like a man, in the same way it could be said a wolf looks much like a dog. Two muscular legs, rising through an equally toned midriff, and - aside from the obvious - a well-built roughly human torso. On the top of it all stood a head. A giant head. No eyes, and where they should be, the top of the head curled out and up so the whole head looked like a giant mushroom. It could be said that the arms were like a muscular man’s, however it had five of them, three on its right, two on the left. On the end of each was a giant hand, far bigger than even those arms should be able to lift. On its back were several giant spines, roughly the shape of feathers, a couple of which seemed to be glowing.

The knights could see a shape harnessed to the front of the monster.

“Is that a man?” Asked Thedret.

If it were a man, the profoundly unfortunate man had one of the giant’s hands on either side of his head.

“Oh sweet Kynraeth.” Said Aeirawen.

Caroline had come back from helping Jarn and asked, “What the hell is it Drell?”

“I have...Gnn-no idea. I will tell you this though. I am properly scared of it.”

Caroline bit her lip.

A book appeared in Kelleryn’s other hand. The knights could see the pages turning on their own. All of a sudden they stopped and Kelleryn could be seen to be reading something.

“I...Gnnn...Knew I’d read something somewhere...It does have a name...”

He looked out at the knights.

“Yskraich.”

As I will not be traveling with you, King Coin and others as you bravely blaze a trail to Skyrim in the near future, I look forward to hearing your impressions. I hope you are able to keep this wonderful story updated at least every week or two.

I heartily approve of your new ‘in our last episode’ opening segment! I happily follow every writer here who supports my own humble story, and such a nice little warm up at the beginning of your post is most welcome to help stay up with things.

Okay, and into a new update.

Knights preparing for battle. I was as mesmerized as Deaconsson watching Kelleryn creating shinies to look at!

I wonder what kind of migraine spell struck several of the knights there?

What a frightening description of the . . . beast thingie? I wonder if Yskraich is TES for Diablo? I’d bite my lip too, Caroline!

Thank you for the Previously on KOTNNK...

“Oh sweet Kynraeth.” Said Aeirawen.

Seconded. I’m guessing this is the creature that Ras’sheena was too scared to name.

This whole episode was just fascinating! Have fun in Skyrim. It will be a few more days before I can make it there.

Still a post behind here- but... wanted to go ahead and throw in my comments for Old Friends.

The entire introductory passage was just brilliantly evocative and humorous- ESPECIALLY the continued insistence by the "Other" that he never was a champion of the God.

And then the section with Madigan was poignant and powerful and made me miss a fellow I only just met.

And then- the ending! Woo HOO! That one definitely goes into Treydog's Book of Excellent Post Conclusions.

Just quick thank yous...

Acadian...Thank you so much...I shall endeavour to previously each episode from now on... ...

Grits...You remembered!!...Bless you...Thank you so much... ...

Treydog...Cheers so much... ...I know what you mean with Madigan...Surprised the hell out of me too...

Ahh Tiber...I like him... ...

Sorry it took so long to get over here, I blame Skyrim !!! But the truth is, I didn't know you'd posted an update, lol. I agree with Acadian and Grits, thank you for the "as previously seen" addition !!! That really helps people like me who may NOT have understood the plot correctly and thought Tiber Septim returned as an evil....you get the picture, lol.

This chapter was absolutely wild, Huge with imagery !! Awesome Write !!!!

The characters definitely sound believable