I'll second the others on all points regarding the root-worm mode of travel. Talk about fast-traveling! It was fascinating, and quite original in that I had never heard of such a means of traveling. However, considering that Black Marsh is mostly swampland (hence its name, right?) this makes perfectly logical sense. If we can have multiple trees growing from a single root system, why not have the entire province be connected by such a system of roots/canals whatever have ye and function as a quick means of travel and communication? This portion of the chapter really stood out for me.

I like the way you continue to build the characters throughout this installment. Valens and Talun-Lei in particular stand out for me.

First, Valens:
We see more of the enigma wrapped up in mystery that is the man Valens.

I have to agree with KC that this is much like a cat taking care of her "human." Three of my cats have done this, the male with a mouse toy, and both females with real mice! I suspect cats do this because they despair of us ever learning to hunt for ourselves, and yet they still try to teach us (mother cats bring half-dead prey to their kittens to teach them hunting and killing techniques). Would this attitude be shared by Talun-Lei, or does he just want to be accepted as a vital member of Our Gang?

Like McB and Grits, I had to laugh at this: Classic Ungarion! This just shows how effective your building of his character is that we cannot imagine any other response from this Altmer wizard.

I continue to be amazed by your effective world-building. I look forward to what you make of Black Marsh - it promises to be as alien and intriguing as the best of Burroughs and Lovecraft - the two authors I keep comparing this work to. When I'm not thinking of The Seven Samurai or The Magnificent Seven, that is.

Talun-Lei is doing a fabulous job of harvesting the swamp’s bounty to feed his companions, just as his fishing proved helpful during the boat ride. But first some fried sausages and onions at Castle Redwater – sounds like a deliciously welcome break between river fare, game birds and whatever else Talun-Lei will try to feed them.

I hope Valens doesn’t keep going and fall off the eastern edge of Tamriel! Or get swallowed by the sunrise. How intriguing this aspect of him is.

All aboard the Hist Express to Black Marsh! I hope Aela remembers her bloom spell after that ride through the Mudswamp Subway.


Nit? - - ‘At the same time it grew hotter and damper then even when they had been on the river.’ - - To me, ‘then’ implies a sequencing (as in time). Perhaps you would rather use ‘than’ to introduce the comparison that I think you intend?

Your version of root-worm travel seems a bit random. I wonder if even the Argonians will know where they've arrived. But it certainly adds to the "Black Marsh is very different" vibe you need here.

I liked the bit where Aela senses the presence of the Hist, and they notice her, but ignore her. It will let you include them, or leave them out, later, when they might influence outcomes.



Just what is the right wine for that meal anyway?

McBadgere: The Chico One Talun-Lei's hunting was a way to show that while he might be the weakest link of the Seven, he still has useful talents and can contribute something to the rest of the group. Even if it is something as simple as dinner.

The idea of rootworm travel is not something I can take credit for. It is in the in game books: The Argonian Account. I came upon it during my research and decided I had to include it.

I am glad that Ungarion's one-liner went over so well. It was one of those things I just wrote down on the spur of the moment in the first draft. As you and so many have said, it is just sooo Ungarion, how could he say anything else?


Grits: I wanted the final leg of the journey upriver - the farthest from civilization - to feel really wild and dangerous. It is a complete wilderness out there, where anything can happen. So outlaws and nasty critters like vamps seemed like just the right thing to find there. Besides, there are some bandit camps and those vampire dungeons along the river in the game!

I also like the magical elements of fantasy fiction (says the Witch ) To my mind it is the main thing that sets the genre apart from others. So I always look at fantasy settings with magic in mind, and how its use would shape the world. Including the magical things that are not created by the people living there, but are simply a regular part of nature. But now I am sweating that I can make the Black Marsh itself can live up to the buildup!


King Coin: They could definitely use Aravi on this mission quest! Castle Redwater is indeed in the game, at that very spot. Though of course Bethesda calls it a fort instead. The two vampire caves are in the game as well. Their wine had to be better than the Lonely Suitor's. After all, the Suitor has a reputation to live down to!

Those rootworms are an eye-opener alright! I think I would pass on that and walk too...


haute ecole rider: I thought the rootworm travel system was pretty inspired too. But as I said to McB, I cannot take any credit for it. It was all Bethesda. I just copied what they wrote in The Argonian Account (that one set of in-game books was probably my best source of setting information about Black Marsh)!

Now that you and King Coin mention it, Talun-Lei's hunting gifts do remind me of a cat! Though I was thinking more that it was his way to prove his worth to the team.


Acadian: I am glad that Talun-Lei is proving his worth to the readers. One thing I wanted to do with these traveling episodes was show that that boy is not entirely green, and can add some value to the team. We will see more of that in the future, as they come to Black Marsh itself, a place where he is at home, and the others are not.

Valens is proving to be a fun character to write, precisely because of his mysterious nature. It is also easy because he is a blank slate! We will have another big clue about that his destiny in the east later in Chapter 2.

Good call on "Than". I went back and fixed that. I never even noticed it.


ghastley: I thought it was kind of a random way to travel as well, since you cannot exactly control where the worm goes, and how can you tell where you are in Argonia? But I just went with what Bethesda created in this case, since I was kind of at a loss myself to create explanations for either.

We will be seeing a Hist tree up close this episode. They seem really distant, mysterious, and dangerous in Bethesda's writing, and I am sticking to that idea in my portrayal of them.

I think any wine that is not from The Lonely Suitor is the right one!


Previously On Seven: In our last episode the Seven reached the end of the Panther River and briefly stopped at a trading post in Castle Redwater before striking out overland to the Black Marsh. Talun-Lei continued hunting ahead of the group to supply them with game. In no time at all they crossed into Argonia, and traveled inside the rootworms that live in the Hist roots in order to reach Agrigento quicker. The episode ended when they emerged from the roots and back on dry land.


Chapter 2.1

12th Midyear, 3E425

Magnus had begun to drop from his perch when they came to the valley in which Agrigento was nestled. Their first sight of it came from the top of a ridge north of the settlement. From its commanding height, they could look down across the entire vale. The oval depression stretched at least a mile through the low hills that surrounded it, and was filled to the brim by a dense canopy of banyan and durian trees.

All of that changed near Agrigento itself however. There the trees had been cleared to create wide empty fields surrounding three sides of the settlement. This open space was divided into a patchwork of dozens of irregularly shaped paddies. Each was separated from its neighbor by low dikes barely half a foot higher than the brown water around them, and just wide enough for a single person to walk along their muddy tops.

Rice Paddies

The village itself sat at the far end of the valley, in front of three hills. Except for one low, flat rise, these heights were covered with thick stands of bamboo. Rising from the flat land beneath them was Agrigento. From the heights the village reminded Aela of a fried egg. It stretched out in all directions like an irregular circle, filled with homes built of brown thatch. A large circular field took up the center of the village, like the yolk of the egg. At the far end of the plaza rose a stone building in the Imperial style, stretching at least two stories high and roofed with red-glazed tiles.

Aela could see that the perimeter of the village was marked by a line of heavy logs sunk vertically into the ground. The top of each was sharpened to a point to dissuade climbers. However, even from where she stood Aela could see that the barrier had fallen into disarray. Many of the timbers had fallen, and near the main entrance they had vanished altogether, to be replaced by a fence of bamboo.

"Your village's defenses have seen better days," Valens thoughtfully rubbed his goatee with a black-mailed hand.

"You see the work of the Nagas," Stalks-The-Marshes declared. "The first time the snakelegs came to our village these ones thought their walls would protect them. These ones were wrong…"

"Let me guess, destruction magic?" Ungarion said. "Fireballs will eventually incinerate wooden walls."

"Aye," Ulpia now responded. "But that was the least of it. At one time the walls were on top of a rampart we had built up. A good five feet of solid turf. They used spirits to just level it somehow."

"The bastards pulled the very ground out from underneath us." Rullianus spat onto the dirt at his feet. "Then the wall around the gate went up in flames. We never stood a chance."

"These ones have not resisted since then," Hathei said. "What can simple farmers do against such terrible magics?"

Ungarion laced his long fingers together and stretched out his hands before him. His knuckles popped loudly, and he grinned. "Terrible magics are our specialty. These Nagas have not seen anything like Aela and I."

"No one has seen anything like this one…" Do'Sakhar murmured under his breath.

Aela said nothing. Instead she stared at the ruins of Agrigento's defenses. As if forty fighters were not bad enough, the Nagas had conjurers and destruction mages as well. That meant she and Ungarion would not have the magic advantage. Considering the damage the bandit magicians had wrought, she imagined that they would be evenly matched at best.

Clearly this battle would not be won by simple magical or physical muscle. They were going to have to outthink the Nagas.

"Well, let's get down there and get a better look at the land," Valens said. "Then we can get a better idea of how to beat these buggers."

The four Agrigentans led them down from the ridge and into the rainforest. The sky quickly vanished behind a dense roof of greenery. The banyans rose all around. Their grey trunks were long and ropy looking, reminding Aela of strands of clay that had been soaked and stretched out before drying. Then there rose the durian trees, dotted with their large, spiky fruit. All around their feet rose tall grasses, brilliant green ferns, and brightly colored bromeliads. Colorful birds flew through the growth or perched upon the trees, where they were kept company by lizards, serpents, and insects of all varieties. The forest was literally an explosion of life.

The forest

Banyan Tree

Durian Trees

Bromelaids

"This looks more like the Green Marsh than the Black Marsh," Seridwe commented.

"Aye, this part," Talun-Lei agreed. "But deeper in the core, things change. The giant cypress and mangroves grow tall and thick, and along with the Hist, they nearly blot out the sun. There is no solid ground. It is a place of mud and water and roots and darkness."

Soon they passed a curious tree, that the Argonians seemed to stare it with reverence. It stood over the ground upon half-a-dozen massive roots shaped like feet. The trunk itself did not truly begin until at least ten feet above the soil, creating a large, cave-like area between it and the ground. Aela could see glowing yellow sap slowly dripping down from the roof of this chamber, and vanishing into the ground below. The trunk of the massive tree rose above that, and bulged out like an incredibly obese man. Equally fat, twisted boughs ran off from it in several directions. Its bark varied in shade from brown to black, but had an odd purple tint to it, reminding Aela of a bruise. Dark green leaves sprouted from the branches, and glowing red lights that she imagined might be fruit could be seen hanging all throughout the canopy it created.

The Hist

"That must be a Hist tree," Aela thought aloud. Out of habit she stretched out with her magical senses, and tried to touch the spirit of the tree. She found herself coldly rebuffed. The energy that resided within the strange tree wanted no part of her, and made that eminently clear as it pushed her efforts to assense it aside. What little Aela could feel was not comforting. It was like staring at a glacier: something cold, hard, and ready to crush her if she strayed in its path.

"Verily," Stalks-the Marshes said in a low, solemn voice. His tone became abrupt when he looked away from the tree and back to the mercenaries. "But this is not for the unscaled. These ones must move along. Do not come back here. The Hist do not welcome outsiders."

They continued on through the rainforest without argument. Aela could see from the looks upon the faces of the non-Argonians that they too could feel the alienness of the tree, and were perturbed by it. That included the human villagers as well. She doubted that even Ungarion would be inclined to make a trip back to investigate the tree.

In time Talun-Lei surprised them all when he leapt into the branches of a durian tree, and came back down moments later with one of its giant spiky fruits clutched gingerly in his hands. With a deft motion of his knife, he sliced it lengthwise, revealing a creamy pulp within. Even from several paces away, the stench of it curled Aela's nose. It smelled like a latrine filled with onions and sweaty boots. From the expressions on the faces of her companions, Aela could see that she was not the only one who was less than excited by the food.

Durian fruit

Yet the Argonian dove into the fruit with zest. The other Argonians stepped up to take pieces themselves, and joined him in the snack. Ulpia surprised Aela by doing the same.

"Go ahead and try some." The Imperial held out a piece of the yellowish-pulp to the Witch. "It's much better than it smells."

The last thing the Breton wanted to do was eat the revolting fruit. But she was reminded that many people thought the same about haggis, laverbread, black pudding, and other native dishes of her own homeland. Determined not to discount the strange, smelly fruit just on appearances alone, she steeled her stomach for a taste.

Aela found that the creamy pulp was surprisingly good. It reminded of her of custard, with a strong taste of almonds. After the first dab from the tip of her finger, she eagerly took a palmful of the gooey fruit and devoured it with a zest that nearly matched that of the others. Still, she wondered if the Argonians ate so quickly to avoid smelling the tasty fruit? It certainly was an incentive to gobble the meal down, rather than take the time to savor it!

"Try some Ungarion," the Breton offered some to the Altmer mage. "It really is good."

"I think I should sooner lick his butt," Ungarion made a face as he nodded to Do'Sakhar.

"For once this one agrees with the butter elf." The tiger-striped Khajiit waved one hand before his nose. "I would sooner he lick this one's butt as well!"

That brought a chorus of guffaws from the group as they once again made their way through the rainforest. Aela found herself wiping the sweat from her brow in no time at all. It was much hotter than the Panther River basin had been. Worse, the humidity in the air felt like a wet blanket wrapped around her body. A glance at the others showed that they were sweating as well. Only the Argonians seemed unmoved by the heat.

The path they followed was a line of wagon ruts worn down into the ground. It was heavy with growth however, and the ruts little more than grass-filled depressions. When Seridwe asked about it, Stalks-The-Marshes revealed that this was the route they used to take their wagons to sell their soju. It led from Agrigento to the headwaters of the Panther River. From there they took boats like Captain Lidell's down the river to Telamon, and finally packet ships across the Niben to Bravil. From the state of the path, it was obvious that they had not sold any soju in a long time…

Soon the group came to a halt again, when Stalks-The-Marshes raised a warning hand from his position at the front of the column. The soft hiss of weapons being drawn came to Aela's ears. Out of habit, the symbol for her ward spell popped into her mind. She filled her left hand with energy, ready to release it and create the magical shield at a moment's notice. Her right hand filled with the essence of a dryad, and she likewise only needed an instant to bring the tree-spirit into the physical world.

The Seven fanned out across the path, armed and ready. Aela stepped up with Ungarion beside her. The Altmer had his hands filled with a fireball, ready to annihilate anything that crossed them. Ahead of them the Breton saw what had caused the alarm. It was a puddle of emerald green slime that lay in the center of the path. But unlike most pools, this one moved, slowly crawling from one side of the road to the other. In its wake Aela saw the bones of a small animal, perhaps a lizard or rodent.

"Voriplasm," Talun-Lei observed. "It's said that given enough time their stomach acids can even dissolve steel. But they are not very fast."

"Best just leave it be," Stalks-The-Marshes advised. "We see them often enough in the Black Marsh. So long as these ones do not go too near, it will not even know they are present."

"So how does this one hunt?" Do'Sakhar asked.

"They usually sit and wait for something to step on them," Rullianus said. "If you aren't paying attention, they look just like any other pool of muck."

"They fear fire," Stalks-The-Marshes added. "So simply wave a torch near one, and it will retreat."

Nashira was the first to sheath her sword. Though given the lightning speed that Aela had seen her draw with in Bravil, that meant little. For all the Witch knew, the sword master might be able to strike even quicker this way!

"Let's just leave it alone then." Now Valens sheathed his twin ebony swords as well. "We aren't here to kill every wild animal in the province."

They waited for the creature to slowly crawl off of the path and vanish into the underbrush. Then they moved on, careful to stay near the other side of the road as they passed.

"But this is not for the unscaled.” - - What a fabulously TESish line, and perfectly employed by an Argonian here. So the Hist tree's not having anything to do with Aela's round-eared, unscaled spiritual outreach.

I liked how you used the overgrown wagon ruts to reinforce the whole situation that has resulted in the farmers being been unable to bring any soju to market for a long time - hence, the ruts are overgrown.

I simply loved the voriplasm! Reminds me of oozes from D&D and they're perfect for this swampland. You've done a great job bringing the mysterious marsh to exotic life, but this little touch really sang to me.

Looks like our Seven have their work cut out for them.

Wow, they’re up against a lot of magic as well. No wonder the villagers have not resisted.

I absolutely loved your portrayal of the Hist.

"For once this one agrees with the butter elf." The tiger-striped Khajiit waved one hand before his nose. "I would sooner he lick this one's butt as well!"


Black Marsh seems wonderful, magical, and dangerous. I enjoyed the contrast where the village had tamed a small area. I like the decision to leave the voriplasm alone. Respectful of life no matter how weird.

A fascinating episode!

I have to ask: Did you happen to watch the same episode of Chopped that I did, where durian fruit was one of the basket ingredients?? I never knew its existence until I saw the the show and heard the judges talking about how difficult it was to work with (because of the stench). I had to look it up on Wikipedia! Now it's everywhere!

The contrast between the settlement and the surrounding forest/marsh was striking and wonderful. I enjoyed the trip through the rainforest, and the encounter with the Hist tree. No, it is not for the unscaled indeed!

I lit on the same thing Acadian did about the overgrown ruts. It really brings home how devastating the Naga raids have been for this poor village.

Loved the proper amazing descriptions of the environment...Properly vivid, and the screenshots helped...Y'know...A tad... ...

The Hist-tree was fantastic...I know of this from the Fighter's Guild quest and all that from the Greg Keyes novels...But that bit where Aela was rebuffed from her magical nudging was excellent, and the Argonians' reminder that it was not for her was cool...

The village was excellent...Loved the idea that it was mostly yer basic swamp village but there's always some huge stone manse somewhere in these places...Imperials most likely... ...



...

Two for two... ... ...



Always the best way with jokes...If you work on them, they don't seem to work so well...

Many many excellent things I enjoyed...

Brilliant stuff!!...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

Hmmm... Voriplasm! That looks like an interesting trap for later in the story, except that the Nagas will be familiar with them.

I do like the way you're portraying the Hist as aloof and disinterested. They have unfathomable plans on a much larger scale, and can't be bothered with little incidents like this one. It all helps build a very different world that they've found themselves in.

The revelation that the Nagas have magical forces on their side makes for some interesting future match-ups. Some major-scale rock-paper-scissors juggling to come!

I pictured the village the way you described it, with the rice patties around it.

One of the Argonians is talking like a Khajiit, and the other one is talking like an Imperial! I can tell who gets out more.

Forty fighters and Aela is even considering them evenly matched?

I enjoyed to pictures of the vegetation. Especially the Hist tree. Interesting that it only welcomes Argonians.

Acadian: Aela's round-eared, unscaled, and tailless outlook! She's a three time loser!

I am glad the voriplasm played. It was not in my original drafts. I only added it later because I realized that episode was basically an introduction to Black Marsh, and that while I had shown several exotic forms of plant life, I had not shown any of the indigenous animals. So I literally worked the voriplasm in at the last minute.


Grits: The Nagas needed to be tough enough to overcome the 'standard' defenses of a settlement out in the sticks. So I threw some magic in on their team, and thought about how that could be used to neutralize Agrigento's defenses.

I did want to show some contrast between the rice fields around the village and the wilderness around it. Its a little island of civilization in a sea of wildness.


haute ecole rider: Chopped? Is that about circumcisions? I have never heard of it. I never heard of durian fruit either until I started writing Chapter 2. It is something I came across when I was doing my research on rainforests and their plantlife. The fruit was nice and exotic, so I thought it would fit in wonderfully with the picture I was painting of Argonia.

The overgrown path is just one way we will see how the Nagas have taken their toll upon the village. Once we get into people's houses, we will see even more evidence of their depredations.


McBadgere: I remember the Hist tree from the FG questline too. Its sap was really weird and dangerous stuff. I never read the novels though. So otherwise all I know about them is what I read on the wiki. They seem to be mysterious, inscrutable, and very dangerous. The worshiping Sithis part cannot bode well either. So I decided to portray them as alien and aloof creatures.

You called it on the Imperials in the big stone building!

I was inspired by that butt-licking line from that joke that an npc in Leyawiin tells about "why do Khajiit lick their butts?" It just sort of took its own life from there.


ghastley: I have thought about the Seven trying to use voriplasms or other swamp critters against the Nagas as well. But as you pointed out, the bandits will be old-hands at dealing with any sort of Black Marsh wildlife.

You hit upon one of the things I wanted to portray with the introduction to Black Marsh. I want it to seem like a very different place than the Seven are used to (sans Talun-Lei of course). I want it to seem alien and exotic. Glad it is working!


King Coin: I recall the Argonians and Khajiit talking in the same third person way in Oblivion. Did they change it in Skyrim? I guess I cannot remember. But it is Oblivion I am basing them on. To be honest, writing their dialogue gets to be a pain after a while, with all the "these ones" and "those one's", etc...

Aela considers them evenly matched against the Naga's magicians. I went back and edited that part a bit to clarify that. She's not really worried about the Naga's fighters though. Once you add in the villagers, the Nagas will be the ones outnumbered. Granted, Aela knows that even with Valens to train them, one for one the villagers cannot stand up to the Nagas. But as Joe Stalin once said, quantity has a quality all its own...


Previously On Seven: In our last episode our heroes entered the valley in which Agrigento sits, and spied the village from a distance. They then made their way down through the rainforest toward the settlement, encountering several curious life forms, from smelly but surprising tasty durian fruit, to a cold and aloof Hist tree, and finally a strange predator known as a voriplasm on the road: which they chose to avoid.


Chapter 2.2

In time they emerged from the rainforest and came out into the rice paddies. The fields were empty of the green stalks of rice plants, and were filled with nothing but muddy water instead. Aela and the other scaleless folk went single-file along the dikes, while the Argonians waded effortlessly through the shin-deep water.

Finally they came to the village's bamboo gate. Aela could see that the ground still bore the tell-tale scorch marks of flames around the gate and flanking walls. As she stepped nearer, she could feel the burns seared deep within the soil as well, where the timbers of the walls had been incinerated.

"This was definitely done by Destruction magic," she thought aloud. "I can sense the marks it left behind."

"Aye," Rullianus grumbled. "The flames seemed to just come from nowhere."

"Well, two can play at that game my friend," Ungarion vowed. The high elf rolled up the sleeves of his robe and raised his arms, but Aela stopped him with a shake of her head. This was not the time for showing off with fireballs. Not when they were making their first impression upon their employers.

However, those employers were nowhere to be found. Stalks-The-Marshes and Rullianus pushed open the bamboo gates to reveal empty streets beyond. The seven mercenaries followed the villagers down the barren lanes, flanked by tall houses to either side. The homes possessed hardwood floors that were raised high above the ground upon thick stilts made from durian wood. Their walls were made of cross-stitched reeds, and the tall peaked roofs were of simple thatch. Few of them possessed any windows, and none had more than a single door facing the street, reachable by wooden steps or notched logs.

screenshot

Aela felt eyes staring at her from all around, and it was not those of the chickens and water buffalo that lingered in the streets. The way the other seven turned their heads this way and that, she could tell that they felt it too. The villagers were there. They just were not showing themselves.

They came to the yolk of the egg that Aela had observed from high on the ridge at the edge of the valley: the village square. She found that there was a small wooden stage built at the far end, in front of the stone building. On the opposite side of the plaza rose a large building of thick wooden timbers, also constructed at ground level rather than raised up like the homes. From the wide double doors this possessed, the Breton Witch imagined that it was either a stable or communal storehouse.

Waiting for them on the wooden platform was a single Argonian woman. From the luster of her green scales, Aela imagined that she was young, possibly the same age as Talun-Lei. Her eyes were bright yellow slits, and her head was crowned with a forest of dark orange feathers. She wore a simple blue robe tied around her waist with an equally simple cloth belt. When she stepped down from the stage Aela saw that she wore blue trousers underneath the short flaps of the robe, but her feet were bare as she walked across the hard-packed dirt of the square. In one hand she held a small clay jug, and in the other a simple cup.

screenshot

"Meen-Sa!" Hathei exclaimed. The Argonian darted from the group with more energy than Aela had ever seen the old man display. Taking the younger Argonian in his arms, he scolded the girl. "What are you doing? You shouldn't be out here like this!"

"Why, is this one not safe from us?" Talun-Lei's voice betrayed the same bitterness that Aela felt rising within her. "Talun-Lei and his companions came here to save these ones, and this is how they greet us?"

"This is not how these ones should greet you," Meen-Sa answered him. Disengaging herself from her father, she crossed the distance to the mercenaries and stood before them.

Aela felt energy flowing around her like a cool stream. The young Argonian was a magician, the local Witch no doubt. Aela's attention was drawn to a bright spot of power that hung from her wrist. There she saw a curious bracelet hanging from a rawhide cord. Connected to a single metal ring were a small orb painted with a slitted eye, a tear-shaped chunk of soapstone, and finally a crystal flask that was filled with blue liquid that glowed with a soft light.

screenshot

It was a dowsing crystal, Aela realized. Meen-Sa was a water priestess. She had learned about them in one of her anthropology classes, but had never met one before. Well live and learn, she thought to herself. Nirn always had something new to teach.

"This one apologizes for the behavior of her neighbors," Meen-Sa said. She poured water from the jug she carried into her cup, and held it out before her. "This one is Mikumari, and on behalf of Agrigento, greets these ones and extend to them the hospitality of our village."

The Mikumari's eyes went to Aela's and lingered there for long moments. The Argonian could sense her power, the Breton Witch realized, just as she could feel the Argonian's. Then Meen-Sa's eyes moved to Ungarion, and finally Valens. She is assessing all of us, Aela thought, feeling our magical ability. In the case of Valens, it was clearly Azura's Star that drew her attention. Even tucked away in a bag as it currently was, the Daedric artifact glowed with so much power that no magician could fail to overlook it. It was like a dragon standing in the room.

"A Mikumari?" Seridwe whispered.

"She's their water priestess," Ungarion answered out of the corner of his mouth. "She purifies their wells, moves the water to their fields, enriches it, and charges it with life and good health. She is the soul of their village."

Then the high elf wizard stepped forward and took the cup from the Argonian's hands. He raised it high over his head for all to see. Then he lowered it and took a long drink. "On behalf of all of my comrades, we accept your offer of hospitality and pledge to honor your village, your people, and your ancestors."

Aela could not prevent a small smile at the high elf. Apparently Ungarion had learned something more than how to wheel and deal at the University after all!

"Now that these ones are all friends," Do'Sakhar murmured, "will the others come out?'

They looked around, and found the square was still deserted except for themselves. The other Agrigentans shook their heads, and Rullianus kicked up a cloud of dust in disgust.

"It is to be expected," Valens sighed. "Look at what happened the last time armed strangers came to their village, and the time before that, and before that."

"They have good reason to fear strangers, especially those armed to the teeth." Seridwe agreed, albeit with a frown. "They have no way of knowing if we are the same as the Nagas, or worse."

Her words were punctuated by the strident clanging of a bell. Everyone turned their heads to see Talun-Lei standing upon the stage, ringing a bronze bell that hung from a wooden post planted there. The young Argonian swung the metal clapper to and fro with zest, creating a din that echoed through the entire village, and Aela imagined far into the fields beyond as well.

Now the houses emptied out as villagers came running into the town square. They were a mixture of Argonians and Imperials. In spite of the obvious physical differences, they all still looked more alike than not. They wore the same dark, threadbare tunics and sandals, the same conical hats of woven reeds, and they all possessed the same downcast, defeated look in their eyes.

They ran to and fro in a panic, kicking up dust around their feet as they did so. Finally Talun-Lei stopped ringing the bell, and strutted out to the edge of the stage.

"Now you come!" the Argonian exclaimed. He stood with arms akimbo, and seemed to stare the assembled villagers over one at a time. "Now when you think there is danger to your homes, danger to your fields, danger to your soju!"

"Where were you to greet these ones?" he went on. "Hiding! Cowering under your beds! Farmers! All you care about is your precious rice, and your dirty water-buffalo!"

"Well now you are here." Talun-Lei gestured to the other mercenaries. "So are these ones, my companions and I, who came all of this way to fight for you! Show these ones that you are worth it. Because these ones did not come for three bowls of rice a day. Nor for a cup of soju! Now give these ones a reason to fight for you!"

The Argonian warrior stood there upon the stage, almost daring the villagers to respond. None of them did however. They milled in the square, looking from him to one another, and back again. Finally Valens rose to the stage beside Talun-Lei, and raised his arms.

"That's enough excitement for one day," he loudly proclaimed. "You can all go back to your homes for now. We'll tell you when we need you, and what you will have to do. Go on, go home now. No one here will harm you."

Ungarion turned from Talun-Lei's display to look at Aela.

"Now we are seven."

*Applauds*... ...

That was excellent!!...

Loved the water-priestess!!...Excellent stuff!!...

I'm loving the way that magic attracts magic in your world...Reminds me a bit of the way the Immortals in Highlander know when there's another one around...Properly love that!...

Do-Sakhar feels Steve McQueen-ish btw...Just thought I'd say...Then again, maybe that's 'cause he's my fave in the film and Do-Sakhar is funny... ...Brilliant character anyways...

I wondered if we'd get the "So this is how you greet us?" speech from Talun-Lei!... ...Brilliantly done!!!...Loved that hugely!!... ...

Excellent chapter...Amazing writing...

Always a proper joy to read...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

Aela was wise to dissuade Ungarion from showing off his fireballs to everyone. Probably not what a burned village full of frightened farmers needed to see as an introduction.

I liked the water priestess and how all the magic types were ‘sensing’ each other.

I see that Talun-Lei did impress Ungarion with his effort to rally the village.

"Now we are seven." - - What a magical finish to this episode!

What a wonderful TES/Black Marsh perspective on what is possibly one of the most iconic scenes in both versions of the movies!

I remember the youngest being impatient with the village's reception committee and taking the bell into his own hands!

Nice!!!

You might be right with how both races talk. I don’t pay enough attention to know for sure. I thought it was different. Kharjo’s dialog when I write it sometimes gets challenging as well.

Ungarion eager to toss fireballs: Glad Aela was there to slow him down.

Love the picture of the house. The construction sounds primitive, but it’s the best way to live in those hot and humid places. Unless someone has an enchanted AC unit. Doubtful here, unless there is a pompous Imperial building somewhere in the village.

I like the Argonian woman. Did you play the character at all, or did you just make her for the screen?

It was like a dragon standing in the room.
Nice!

Apparently Ungarion had learned something more than how to wheel and deal at the University after all!
I wouldn’t speak so soon, this just might be part of wheeling and dealing well.

Talun-Lei is now part of the group!

You prompted me to fire up Oblivion and just go walk around talking to Argonians. So far they all speak in normal tones, and only the Khajiit do the third-person speech. I even looked back to when Teresa originally met Kud-Ei and I had her speaking normally then too. Somewhere along the way I started using third-person speech with them. I think I started with Storm-Tail as a way to give him some more flavor. Then I guess I must have plumb forgotten, and began using it for all Argonians. But I think somewhere along the line I got the idea that all Argonians talked that way. Hmmm. Now I am not sure if I should go back and re-edit their dialogue to be 'normal', or if I should just stick with the third person speech patterns?

You know what, SubRosa? Because Argonians and Khajiiti are not human or mer, it would make sense that their perspective of the world is different from others. So I would keep the third-person speech for the Argonians as well as for the Khajiiti - it further emphasizes their unique position in Tamriel's ecology. I always liked the third-person Khajiit speech myself - it strikes me as an adaptive technique to living in a human/mer society - referring to themselves as "this one" implies humility, or in animal terms, submission, which would be consistent with their long history of slavery by humans and mer. That kind of humility, which may or may not be real, can be a survival technique - that attitude was prevalent among the African American slaves here in the US, even when their spirits weren't necessarily broken. They just became more devious with their masters. That's how I see the third-person approach taken by Khajiiti in Oblivion, and I rather enjoy it because it gives them more depth as far as I am concerned.

Now to add more flavor to these folks, I would write the occasional Argonian or Khajiit with the more typical first-person speech, as one trying to "fit in" with human/mer society, much as in the years immediately after the Civil War (or even before it) African-Americans would adopt the "white" way of speech in an attempt to be accepted into white society. Frederick Douglass did this successfully, but Lord knows how many tried this technique and failed. Perhaps they were the ones lynched during the Jim Crow years for being "uppity?"

So my vote is to leave the dialogue as they are.

I'm pretty sure I've heard Argonians in the game use third-person for themselves. It's not as prevalent as it is with the Khajiit, but it's there. And as has been suggested, it's likely a regional thing, and more common among those with a history of slavery.

Liked the way you've established the background of flammable structures, water magic, etc. that you'll need later. And the way that your characters plan as carefully as you do.

And Talun-Lei is developing nicely, and becoming one of the seven.

Regarding Argonian speech, I like when they refer to themselves as “we” in the singular as well as in the plural. The game greeting “Blessed are we” comes to mind. Also I enjoy the genderless terms including when they call the player “it,” as in the game’s “The prey approaches” and “Unwelcome it is.” Using that flavor of speech brings out the hive-mind aspect of the Hist as well as the implied gender-swapping and general ambiguity about Argonian biology. Plus it keeps them weird while still being distinct from the Khajiiti manner of speaking. And then the occasional completely normal speaker provides insight into her background just by her Imperial speech. Just a thought.

"Well, two can play at that game my friend," Ungarion vowed. The high elf rolled up the sleeves of his robe and raised his arms, but Aela stopped him with a shake of her head.

Oh my gosh, these two! Definitely more together than the sum of their parts.

They came to the yolk of the egg that Aela had observed from high on the ridge at the edge of the valley: the village square.

Egg. Nice. I also enjoyed the water imagery around Meen-Sa even before Aela put together the details. The notion of a water priestess is lovely as well as being a practical role in a water-filled world.

Ungarion turned from Talun-Lei's display to look at Aela.

"Now we are seven."

OH YEAH!! Ahem. Yay for Talun-Lei.

McBadgere: I cannot take full credit for the water-priestess. She is based upon a character who was in Samurai Seven, an anime based upon... you guessed it, The Seven Samurai. She was not in my original outline, but when I started writing the second chapter I realized that I wanted Hathei's daughter to have more depth, and be a larger part of the village. That is when I remembered the water-priestess, and it was perfect for Meen-Sa.

The Immortals in Highlander are a great analogy! Now I am thinking of the guy who always sneezes around other Immortals, from the Double Eagle episode.

Do'Sakhar feels like Steve McQueen? Now he needs a hat that he can always be taking off to get attention! (seriously, rewatch Magnificent Seven and count how often he does that. )

I could not pass up the tirade by Kikuchiyo/Chico. It is one of the defining moments of both films. It also is what Chapter 2 is all about. By the time we reach the end of the chapter, the Seven will have a reason to fight for Agrigento, and the answer for Talun-Lei's challenge.


Acadian: Ungarion is just the kind of guy to want to shoot off fireballs for shits and giggles, sort of like Gandalf and his fireworks. But of course it is Aela who stops to think about how the locals might actually take those fireworks given their recent history.

The way the magicians can sense one another is all inspired by the pen and paper RPG Shadowrun. In it magicians can astrally perceive, and by doing so they can see all the magical forces in the area, and within people. So mages could always identify other mages, or what kinds of spells were going off.


haute ecole rider: I actually took notes as I watched that scene in both films. Then after I wrote it my own way, I went back to the scene in Magnificent Seven again, and tried doing it word for word. Then I compared that to what I had done originally, and found I liked what I had done myself better. So I scrapped the copy and used my own version. But it still came out very true to the films.


King Coin: You called it on the Imperial in the stone building! I am sure there is magical a/c in the world, it would just be a matter of weather/air/temperature control. I am sure a summoned sylph could do the same as well. But no one in Agrigento has anything like that. If they did, it would have been stolen by the Nagas!

Since I am basing Argonia (or at least this part on the fringes) mostly off South-East Asia, I took a close look at traditional homes there. That pic is actually a traditional Vietnamese home from a country hamlet.

I created Meen-Sa in Skyrim just for that pic. I have never played her. At least not yet. But you never know...

Ungarion's charm is indeed part of his smuggler/trader persona. He has to know how to deal with people of all sorts of cultures, so it behooves him to know their customs.


ghastley: I am going to keep the Argonians using third-person speech after all. It does seem to help set them aside from most of the other races. Thanks all for the feedback!

I was thinking of what a magical fire department might be like. Undines seem to be the ideal solution, either summoned by people or through scrolls. Though I suppose frost spells might work too.


Grits: I already had Meen-Sa referring to someone as "it".

Aela and Ungarion are definitely fun to write together. They get an episode all their own in a few posts, which is a lot of fun.

I did specifically choose to describe Meen-Sa with water terms. But the egg and yolk wasn't really intentional on my part. I was just trying to think of how the village might be shaped. I didn't want it to be perfectly circular or square. It should look less planned and more organic. A fried egg is what came out of my head! Now I am hungry after typing that...

Talun-Lei's speech was a lot of fun to write, and now he is really one of the team.


Previously On Seven: The mercenaries finally arrived at Agrigento, and were met by Meen-Sa - Hathei's daughter and the village's water-priestess. Meen-Sa formally welcomed them and offered Agrigento's hospitality. However, the rest of the villagers were in hiding! Talun-Lei made a scene by ringing the village's emergency bell, turning out all the inhabitants. He gave a brief tirade against the villagers for not being there to greet them, and challenged them to give the Seven a real reason to fight for the village, since none of them were there for a bowl or rice and a cup of soju.


Chapter 2.3

After the excitement in the square, the Seven got settled in and stowed their gear. Rullianus offered to host them in his home, which was a simple affair. The interior was a single large room, with stones set in the center of the upraised floor to create a hearth for cooking upon. The rest of the home revolved around that, with a sleeping area and space for storage located at the rear of the home, a place for food preparation around the hearth itself, and finally the living and dining space near the door. The tables and chairs were made of rattan. Aela noted that most of the crockery was of fired clay, utensils were of wood, and the only metal in evidence was a single small cauldron of iron. Rullianus' bed was a simple mat of woven reeds that had been rolled up and put aside. It was kept company by a second bed mat that Aela noted bore a thin layer of dust atop it.

After taking some time to unload their packs and settle into the building, the Seven returned to the village square and met Ulpia in front of the large stone building. The Imperial led them into the structure through its only entrance: a pair of thick wooden doors. Within they found four gigantic copper vats that rose from the stone floor. They were taller than Aela, and tapered to long, slender pipes which bent back downward to feed into great collection pots. A raised walkway ran around the top of the vats, and Aela could see that it could be used to access hatches set within each vessel. They reminded Aela of alchemical alembics, only on a massive scale.

"This is where we distill the soju," Ulpia explained.

The Imperial pointed to a row of metal cylinders to one side of the room. "It begins in the fermenting bins over there. We mix the rice in there with water and yeast and let it ferment out in the sun. From there we take the wash and put it in the vats, where we heat it to boiling. The vapor runs up those slender pipes at the top and starts to condense. Most of it falls back down into the pot as reflux. Only the purest distillation rises all the way, goes across those horizontal pipes, and falls back down the condensers. From there it drips into the collectors as soju. We put it in those doks - brown jugs - over there and age it. Or at least we did in the old days. Now the fetching Nagas take it and drink it straight from the vats."

Dok Screenshot

Ungarion whistled in appreciation. "Most impressive," the Altmer said. "I have to admit, was not expecting anything this refined."

"Aye, this one feels thirsty already," Do'Sakhar laughed.

"Do you run all of this?" Aela asked the Imperial woman, noting her familiarity with the process.

"I do," Ulpia nodded, "with a little muscle-power from some of the others of course. It was my father who built it all. You might say brewing is in my blood."

"You must be able to make a good deal of coin from this operation," Seridwe observed. "Yet your people live so sparingly?"

"We have to," Ulpia frowned. "The Nagas took all of our valuables, even my copper cooking pots. All we have left is what we could hide from them. The only reason they do not take all of this is because they know we could not make the soju without it."

"Is there a way up to the roof?" Valens asked, gazing up at the ceiling. "This is the tallest building in the village. We should get a good view from up there."

"Aye," Ulpia nodded. "Follow me."

She led them up on the metal walkway that surrounded the vats and took them to one side of the building. There she ascended a ladder to a wooden trapdoor and climbed through it. Aela followed along with the others, and found herself perched on the spine of the roof. To either side of her red-glazed tiles angled down to the edge of the slanted roof. But along the peak there was a flat beam of wood that ran the length of the building, roughly three feet wide.

As Valens had thought, the perch offered a wide view of the village and its environs. The group turned this way and that to look all about. Seridwe pointed to the bamboo-covered hills to the south of them and spoke.

"Those are going to be trouble," the elven archer observed. "The bamboo will give them cover from arrows, and they can get within fifty feet of the village wall before they get into the open."

"These ones will have to clear them," Do'Sakhar said.

"Perhaps we can kill two cliffracers with one spell while we are at it." Valens thoughtfully rubbed his chin. "We will need spears for the villagers, and that bamboo would do nicely."

"Consider it done." Nashira drew her scimitar of dwarven metal and passed a thumb gently along its blade. The moment it was free of its sheath Aela felt the frost enchantment wafting from the blade, like a chill winter's breeze. "It will be good practice. But I am afraid Barafu's magic will ruin the bamboo."

"Leave that to me, 'o lady of the blade," Ungarion grinned. "I can drain the magicka from your sword so that it strikes without that freezing breath. Then afterward I can recharge it again in no time at all."

"We'll need shields too." Valens said. "We could make them from rattan, or even bamboo. But I'd like something a little stronger. It's going to be the only thing these people have to protect themselves."

"This one wouldn't trust the wood from the banyan trees," Talun-Lei said. "But the durians have strong wood. These ones could start felling them and making shields."

"This one's axe was made for felling men," Do'Sakhar grumbled, "but if must be, it will serve."

"And unless we want charcoal, I'll have to drain its magicka as well." Ungarion said.

"Good," Valens nodded. "That will give us a start. Once we have those I can start drilling the villagers. The sooner the better. In the meantime we can put them to work on the defenses. Let's go down and take a look at the perimeter."

With that the mercenaries filed their way back down to the distillery floor. Once outside they were joined by Stalks-The-Marshes and Meen-Sa. Ulpia stayed behind, explaining that she had to start work on creating their next batch of soju. In the meantime the two Argonians led the mercenaries to the front gate, to begin their tour of the walls.

There was not much left to look at. While the thick tree-trunks that made up most of the wall were indeed of stout construction, the ground beneath them had sagged, often leaving them pointed this way or that, creating gaps in many places. The bamboo replacement walls near the gate and a few other places were sturdy enough to prevent animals from wandering in or out, but clearly would not stop a determined attacker.

"We'll start with digging a ditch around the entire village and filling it with water," Valens said.

"That will not slow the Nagas," Stalks-The-Marshes pointed out. "They swim better than they slither on land."

"Aye," Valens agreed, "but the brown water will conceal the bamboo stakes we plant in the bed of the moat."

"Oh, this is a clever one," Do'Sakhar murmured. "That will give them a nasty surprise indeed."

"It probably won't kill any of them," Seridwe said, "but it will slow them down, and force them to take their time through the water."

"It's going to be a lot of work, but I'd like to pull up all those timbers as well, and use the dirt we dig out of the moat to build up a rampart." Valens pointed at the heavy tree trunks that made up most of the wall. "Then we could replant the logs into a solid barrier, at least ten feet above the bottom of the moat."

"I can take care of that." Aela raised one hand into a fist, and gathered up a ball of glowing blue energy within her fingers. Letting it build to a peak, she turned the magicka loose. It fell to the ground in a disc, and a gigantic man of dirt and loose stones took shape in the air behind it. The behemoth turned to look expectantly at Aela, and she smiled and gently patted his arm. "My friend and I can take care of the ditch and the rampart in no time at all."

"But that won't stop the Nagas," Meen-Sa argued. "We had one before. They just pulled the ground out from underneath us."

"They have a mage who can summon archaeans," Ungarion said. "But as you can see, so do we."

"If anyone can stop them, Aela can," Do'Sakhar agreed. "This one is the finest conjurer Khajiit has ever met."

Aela tried not to blush at the compliment. Valens' words brought her back down to Nirn quickly enough however.

"I don't expect to stop them at the walls," he said. "They will get through."

"Then why bother?" the water-priestess spoke in a placid tone, but from the slight twitch in her tail, Aela could see that she was growing exasperated.

"We will force them to bring their full force to bear upon the walls," Seridwe explained. "They will have to throw everything in, including their mages."

"That is the key," Valens said. "They will reveal their mages. Then Seridwe, Do'Sakhar, and Ungarion will pick them off at long range. That will take away their greatest strength, and even up the odds."

"Like forcing them to play their trump cards in the first trick," Ungarion observed.

"Exactly." Valens nodded to the high elves. "From there we will have a battle in the streets."

The Nibenean led them back into the interior of the village. Once within he turned off the main street and wended his way between buildings. "We'll build frises and use them to fill in most of these little alleys. We'll leave just a few routes open to the square. That will force the Nagas down channels of our choosing. We'll meet them there in shield walls and smash them." Valens smacked a closed fist into the palm of his hand for emphasis.

"Frises?" asked Stalks-The-Marshes.

"A simple barrier," Seridwe explained. "You take a long horizontal pole. Then take two stakes sharpened at both ends and tie them to the pole like an "X". Fill the length of the pole with those spikes, and you have a prickly barrier that you can easily pick up, move around, and dig into the ground."

"That bamboo should work well for that," Nashira judged. "I see my sword arm will be getting plenty of exercise!"

"And if you do not stop them in the street?" Meen-Sa asked.

"If we do not stop them, then we retreat to the distillery," the Nibenean declared. "It's the strongest place in the village."

"But the Nagas will be expecting that," the water priestess observed, "will they not?"

"You are right," Valens agreed. "But perhaps we can use that to our advantage?"

The former soldier turned his ebony clad body to the direction of the brewery and once again stroked his goatee thoughtfully. "Yes, that might just work after all…"

"I love it when he gets that look," Seridwe whispered into Aela's ear. "It means he's up to something truly dastardly."

"This one has an idea?" Do'Sakhar asked the obvious question.

"Well, the Nagas will be expecting us all to go in there, including the noncombatants." Valens now lowered his hand and stood arms akimbo. "So that will be their target once they breach the walls. They are all going to converge upon that spot and take it. It would make for an excellent trap."

"But these ones would be in the trap with the Nagas," Do'Sakhar pointed out. "There is only the one way in."

"Not if Aela and her muddy friend there dig us an escape tunnel," Valens now turned to the Witch and her summoned spirit. "We could let the Nagas see everyone go into the building, then secretly evacuate to someplace else, like that big wooden building across the square."

"That is the stable," Stalks-The-Marshes said. "We keep our wagons in there."

"But what about this trap?" Nashira said. "Once we have them inside, what do we do with them? We'll have given them the strongest point in the entire village."

"How hot a flame do you need to make soju burn?" the Nibenean asked. "And how much of it do you think we could have in the brewery by the time the Naga's come?"

* * *

"You want to do what to my soju?" Ulpia stared at Valens as if he had just stepped down from the moons. "And the brewery? You'll destroy everything we worked so hard to build here!"

"It won't destroy anything that cannot be replaced." Valens appeared to be unflustered by the Imperial's exclamation. "You can always brew more soju, put up new stones on the walls, or lay new timbers on the roof. But you cannot bring back the dead."

The Seven stood back in the heart of the village, with Ulpia, Rullianus, Stalks-The-Marshes, Hathei, and Meen-Sa before them. Some of the other villagers loomed nearby, just close enough to listen in, but not so near to be truly part of the conversation.

"These ones all expected to fight with the mercenaries they hired," said Stalks-The-Marshes. "But they did not expect to see their own village burned down in the process!"

"Why cannot these ones fight the Nagas in the fields, or in the forest?" Hathei asked. "Why do they wish to fight here, in our homes?"

"We'll be slaughtered if we fight them out in the open," Valens said plainly. "The only chance we have is with fortifications to fight behind, and narrow streets to prevent them from flanking us. We may not even have to use the brewery as a trap. We might stop them before that. But if we don't, we have to be prepared for the worst."

"The worst seems like the best we can hope for," Ulpia grumbled. "Either way it seems our village will be in ruins."

"Valens is right," Aela now said. "Using the brewery as a trap won't destroy your village. Buildings don't make a community, people do. New wood can be cut, new reeds can be gathered, new buildings can always be put up. So long as there are people who believe in Agrigento, it can never be destroyed."

"Isn't that why you decided to fight after all?" Ungarion moved to stand next to the Breton Witch. "Because you believe in one another? We came here to fight for you, not for your houses."

"How is burning down their homes going to save these ones?" Hathei railed. "They were better off with the bandits!"

"No we weren't," Rullianus growled. The Imperial looked pointedly from the old Argonian to his daughter Meen-Sa. "If we don't make a stand now, who will they murder next?"

"Sometimes you have to be willing to sacrifice everything you have, in order to save everything you are," Aela said resolutely. "Houses, possessions, wealth, none of it really means anything. All of those things can be gained, lost, or traded away."

Aela stepped up and laid a hand over Ulpia's chest. "The only things that really matter are in here," she said, "and no tyrant can ever take them away from you."

"That is easy for this one to say," Meen-Sa argued. "When the battle is over, this one will leave along with the others. The Agrigentans will be left with ashes."

"Aela has sacrificed far more than you can ever fathom," Ungarion declared in a decidedly prickly tone. "She-"

Do'Sakhar interrupted the high elf by laying a friendly hand upon his shoulder. "These ones will all remain to help rebuild." He looked from the other mercenaries to the villagers. "None of them will leave until the village is fully repaired and back to normal, agreed?"

Ulpia frowned, but nodded in agreement. The other villagers followed suit, as did the Seven. Aela could see that the Agrigentans were not happy about it. No one ever looked forward to losing the things they valued. That was why it was called sacrifice after all.

"That's settled then," Valens said. "Let's get to work."

It was inspiring to see Nashira and Do'Sakhar willing to labor on the defenses. I can easily imagine the warriors working beside the villagers from the descriptions you’ve provided. I love dialog, and this episode was a delight. Even with all of the talk I could vividly picture the surroundings from the details you included. Wow!

Aela’s words and the memory of the dusty mat brought the point home. If I started quoting lines I’d end up including all of them. She certainly knows about sacrifice.

"Perhaps we can kill two cliffracers with one spell while we are at it." -- I’m certainly going to have to consider borrowing this line should the occasion arise!

"Good," Valens nodded. "That will give us a start. Once we have those I can start drilling the villagers.” -- I'm not going anywhere near where friend Foxy might go with 'drilling the villagers'. Nope. Not me. Not going there. (Just teasin' ya!)

“So long as there are people who believe in Agrigento, it can never be destroyed." -- * Stands up and cheers while remembering Kvatch. *

I join Grits in saluting your dialogue. You deftly use it to not only ‘show’ what is physically happening, but to ‘display’ what each of the Seven are made of – and why they are so likely to prevail. The examples herein were numerous, most of them implying the experience and skill of the group. One that particularly stuck with me, however, is when the normally unflappably smooth-talking Ungarion displayed his hackles in defense of Aela.

You did a great job of building this scene to its conclusion: The Seven will not only do what it takes to rid the Naga menace, but remain long enough to rebuild and help the village recover from the attendant collateral damage.


Couple teeny nits:
- "And unless we want charcoal, I'll have to drain it's magicka as well." Ungarion said.’ - - I’m sure you meant the possessive (its) here rather than the conjunction (it’s).
- "This one has an idea?" Do'Sakhar asked to obvious question.’ - - I suspect you meant ‘the’ instead of ‘to’?

Dee Foxy is sorely missed when "drilling the villagers" goes by without a comment from the Master of Dhertee Innu Endo! My mind did go there, but it's not appropriate for this forum!

I'm with Grits there, it is so refreshing to see the warriors agree to work on the aftermath. In the two movies, as I recall it, only the Chico character stayed behind, the others left once the fighting was done. In the Magnificent Seven, I believe it was Chris who said there is no place for old fighters/warriors/gunslingers to settle. The implication there was that Chico was never really a gunslinger, though he wanted to be one.

The growing spirit of teamwork here was fun to watch, especially as it was laid out through dialogue. Here we see the hard work Valens put into drilling his fellow fighters (okay, here I go meself!) begin to pay off as each offers his/her own contribution. I really liked the way Seridwe anticipated Valen's thinking and strategy at a few points in the discussion.

Poor Rullianus! He’s going to cram several moody warriors and a chatty mage into his home! We’ll see how long the Seven lasts!

Wonder who the second mat belongs to and where they are now? Rejoined the Hist at the hands of the Naga?

Nice distillery, at least when this is over they will have the means to generate some money.

I wondered if the unfamiliar land would prevent Aela from using her summoned helpers. Glad it isn’t an issue, else this will be much more difficult.

They aren’t only general defense now; they are a construction crew too! Hopefully the brewery equipment can take the heat of the flames because that stuff isn’t going to be easy to replace!

I'm trying to avoid re-viewing the source material, but you're doing a great job of translating it all to the Black Marsh context. It all fits together so well in its new incarnation, just as well as the conversion from Japan to the Americas. But then, the strategy and tactics are the same in each of those contexts.

The worry I have is that Tamriel gives us fire resistance, which is a potential hole in the plan here only.

Grits: Thanks. That was a really long episode, and I was keenly aware of the discussions on the Writing Mechanics topic about post length, and splitting up a scene vs. keeping it together even if it is longer. Especially concerning the last part. I was tempted to leave that for another post. But it is too small to be its own episode, and would seem out of place if it were posted with today's episode.

It will not be just Do'Sakhar and Nashira who toil away. As we will see this episode, everyone will get involved in the toilage.

The dusty mat was indeed meant to be a subtle reminder of the suffering the villagers have endured under the yoke of the Naga bandits. Likewise, when it came to talking about sacrifice, I needed look no further than Aela. She has lost everything to be who she is.


Acadian: I did have fun with that cliffracer line. Sometimes that is one of the most enjoyable parts of writing in the ES universe: thinking up colloquialisms and other sorts of slang.

I never really thought about it as I was writing, but that was a really 'talky' episode, due to there being so many people involved, and that it was in essence a planning session.

Now we see what it takes to get Ungarion's dander up. He can keep his cool even in the Argonian heat, but not when someone messes with his best friend!


haute ecole rider: Oi, you folks and your drills! Next you'll be remarking on Valens licking them into shape! Or teaching them to firmly grip the shafts of their spears. (which reminds me, Vincent over at the Bravil FG has a haft that could use some gripping... )

These next few episodes, really the rest of chapter 2 come to think of it, will showcase the Seven all coming together and pitching in for the village's defense. We will get a chance to see the unique nature of each as they all do their part. Ungarion the smooth-talking front man, Valens the soldier, Aela the summoner, etc...

Seridwe's anticipation of Valens was a way that I wanted to show that the two of them had been a team for a while, just like Aela and Ungarion. They each know one another well enough to know what the other is going to do at any given moment.


King Coin: Well, in all fairness only Valens is really moody. The rest are either taciturn (Nashira), or at least friendly (Ungarion). Though seven is a lot for one house! I would hate to put that many in my apartment.

We will be seeing a little more about the owner of the second mat in Rullianus' house here and there, and there have been some hints in the previous episodes as well.

I did think about whether or not Aela would be able to summon elementals in Argonian, due to it being such an alien land. But in end I decided that it still has water, dirt, air, fire, etc... It is just that it also has the Hist, and I think that is where the real weirdness is. So she can still summon her normal helpers. It is just the Hist that want no part of her.

I did think about the vats being ruined in a fire, so I looked it up. Copper melts at about 1,000 degrees C, and soju would burn at about 26 degrees C. So as long as they don't make too big of an inferno in there, the distillery ought to hold up.


ghastley: I am actually tempted to rewatch both Seven Samurai and Magnificent Seven again, even though I watched both before I began writing. It has been a lot of fun putting the story into a fantasy setting. It is one of the ways that I can try to make this version of the tale unique.

Resist Fire is always there. Though I have been thinking that fire is probably the worst enemy of the Nagas. They are water-borne creatures, like crocs or frogs, so it is probably what they are most afraid of. So naturally their mages would use it, since it is what the other Naga's fear most. Aela will be providing some fire resist potions in the future. We will see with the Nagas.


Previously On Seven: In our last episode the Seven took a tour of the large stone building in the village, which turned out to be their distillery for producing soju. From its roof they got a good look at the environs, and laid down an basic strategy to defend the village. They will clear away the nearby bamboo forest in the hills behind the village, and use it to make spears and fortifications, cut down trees to make shields, and dig a ditch and parapet to surround the village. Valens intends to force the Nagas to commit their mages to storming the walls, allowing the ranged fighters of the Seven to identify and kill them from a distance. Then they will fight the mundane Nagas in the narrows streets by using shield walls. If worse comes to worse, they will retreat to the distillery and use it to trap the Nagas in an inferno of burning soju.


Chapter 2.4

Aela and her summoned spirit went to work digging the moat. The archaean easily moved the turf and loose stones aside, shifting more than a hundred of pounds of soil with each scoop of his massive paws. The spirit piled all of this dirt up on the inner side of the ditch. But rather than covering the bamboo fence and timber wall there, the dirt moved under those objects, actually pushing them up so they stood atop the tall rampart being constructed.

In the meantime Ungarion set to work draining the power from Nashira's scimitar and Do'Sakhar's axe. Aela noted that he transferred the stolen energy into several magicka gems, and silently congratulated the high elf for his forethought. Those gems might prove invaluable during the coming battle.

Then the others split up and went about their own tasks. Nashira and Seridwe went to the bamboo forest on the far side of the village, while Do'Sakhar, Stalks-The-Marshes, Valens, and Talun-Lei ventured into the forest they had all traveled through to reach the Agrigento. Aela noted the latter three now carried wood axes as well, and imagined that Stalks had supplied them from the village.

Ungarion vanished soon after, and Aela expected that the wizard would continue preparing magicka gems, or perhaps scribe scrolls to aid in the defense. The latter struck her as a good idea for herself as well. She could create scrolls to summon undines and pass them out to the villagers. They would go a long way to putting out fires during the battle. Perhaps there might even be time to brew healing potions?

Soon Meen-Sa appeared, and the mikumari summoned an undine to stop the water from the nearby paddies from prematurely filling the ditch Aela and her own spirit were digging. The water priestess said nothing, but Aela could feel the Argonian's yellow eyes boring holes into her back as they slowly moved around the edge of the village.

"So are you going to spill those beans," Aela finally asked, "or are you saving them for dinner?"

"This one is strange to Meen-Sa," the Argonian finally rasped. "Even for the unscaled folk, its energy makes no sense."

"Well that is one I have not heard yet," Aela sighed. No matter where she went, there was always someone who felt the need to tell her how wrong they felt it was for her to exist. They all seemed to think that she had been waiting with baited breath for her entire life for them to share their opinions. Aela wondered how the water-priestess would feel if everyone around her constantly forced her to justify having a tail?

"How pray tell, does my energy disturb you?" the Breton said in as neutral a tone as she could muster.

"It is backwards!" the Argonian spat out. "This one's body is male, yet somehow it is not. Its water is female, it runs against its body. This one's spirit is upside down, like its tail is on its head and its feathers on its feet."

"You have no two-spirit people in your village then?" Aela asked, "no hijra?"

"Hijra?" The orange feathers atop the Argonian's head bunched in concentration. "Only the Hist can make hijra, and this one does not look like it has licked the bark."

Aela laughed. "Well not in that sense no! We don't have Hist trees in High Rock. But we do have people who live between worlds, just as everywhere else."

"But did this one's gods not make it a man?"

"No," Aela's eyes narrowed. "I was, and have always been, a woman. I was just not as lucky as you to be born with a perfect body."

"But why cannot this one just be what it was born as?"

Aela was not certain if Meen-Sa was genuinely puzzled, or if the Argonian was baiting her, as so many did when they used those very same words.

"If a child is born with a cleft lip, should it live out its entire life that way?" Aela fought the anger that was welling up within her, and tried to play nice with the Argonian. "Or if it is born lame? Or with under-developed lungs? Or with an infection? Shouldn't we use our magic to heal them?"

"But this one was not born with a sickness, or a split mouth," Meen-Sa continued. "This one was simply born a man. It should remain a man. It is unnat-."

The Argonian was cut short when a cascade of mud splattered across the front of her body. Meen-Sa sputtered, and wiped the grime from her features. Aela turned to see that her archaean had stopped digging, and stood with a fist packed full of oozing slime.

"You had better go," Aela said, "you're making him angry."

"There was no call for that!" the water priestess cried. The archaean raised his mud-filled hand, and it took every ounce of Aela's will to contain the anger that welled up within her. She knew that the spirit was merely reacting to her own feelings. If she could not control herself, it might do more than just sling mud…

"There is far more to Aetherius and Nirn than what you dream of Meen-Sa," Aela carefully answered. "If you cannot accept the fact that there are things in this world different from you, and don't follow your ideas of how the universe was meant to be, then a little mud is going to be the least of your worries in life. If I were you I'd take a long walk and think that over."

The Breton Witch purposely turned her back to the water priestess, and concentrated upon her archaean instead. She willed the Nirn spirit to ignore the Argonian, and return to his work of clearing the ditch. Aela heard the squishing of wet feet in the dirt fading away behind her, and was thankful that the priestess had taken her advice.

A moment later water came flowing down into the ditch. Aela reached out for the undine that Meen-Sa had just released. Gently entreating the spirit, the Witch found that the undine was more than happy to help her. The water stopped flowing into the ditch, and instead flowed up its sides and back into the nearby rice paddy.

In the meantime her archaean dissolved into the dirt beneath her feet. Aela sighed. No one could control more than one spirit at a time. At least that is what they had said at the University, and she had never met anyone who could do otherwise. Given that summoning created a mild telepathic link between spirit and mage, she was not sure how anyone could keep their commands between more than one straight. Her own near loss of control over the archaean just moments before showed how difficult it could be to direct even a single conjured being.

Climbing to the top of the ditch on her hands and knees, Aela emerged to stand upon the dike of the neighboring rice paddy. The field was denuded of rice, and filled with ankle-deep brown water. She imagined the undine moving the water into the next paddy, and a moment later she watched it rise up on the opposite banks and flow over the dikes into the other paddies beyond.

She would just have to alternate between summoning the archaean to dig the ditch, and then the undine to empty out all of the paddies adjacent to it, and back and forth again until she was finished. It would take longer, and require twice the energy. But she had always known that being an ardhanari was not easy.

I have this delightful image now of Aela wearing a bright yellow hard hat as she controls her heavy Nirn-moving equipment! Who knew that mages make the best construction workers?

Wonderful study of how one controls a summon along with some of the potential challenges.

"Hijra?" The orange feathers atop the Argonian's head bunched in concentration. "Only the Hist can make hijra, and this one does not look like it has licked the bark." - - I love this passage for so many reasons! Gosh, it’s hard to keep straight: Bark lickers are Argonians; not to be confused with bark-biting, leaf-licking Bosmers. Not to mention what Khajiit are reputed to lick according to the rumors in Leyawiin!

Meen-Sa was hard to read as to whether she was being curious or judgmental. A combination of the two, I should imagine, but Aela has no doubt had a gut full of the judgmental stuff. I think Aela’s helper had exactly the right idea – a mud wrestling contest would have not only provided a wonderful respite from the day of hard labor, but perhaps helped relieve some of the tension between the ladies as well.


Nit? - - "There is far more to Aetherius and Nirn that what you dream of Meen-Sa," - - Did you mean ‘than’ vs ‘that’?

As long as the vats hold up, I think anything else that gets wrecked in the fire would be relatively easy to replace. It’s the shaped metal that is valuable!

While they are making this moat and rampart, I hope that Aela’s powers can prevent them from being leveled when the Naja attack. I’m assuming this is going to be her primary responsibility during the fight, keeping the defenses safe from the Naja magicka.

Meen-Sa is an observant Argonian. I would somewhat expect all humans to look alike to them.

The elemental feels defensive for Aela. She really needs to get used to this sort of thing though. She is unique enough that she will puzzle many people, and not everyone’s questions are going to be full of barbs like she expects. I’m not saying Aela is being totally unreasonable in her defensiveness either.

Wow...Properly loved the defence discussion...Excellent stuff in there...I actually didn't notice that it was longer, only that it was amazing...*Shrug*...If it's good enough to stand as one piece it should be...

Sadly, it seems that lack of acceptance and understanding isn't just a human thing...Loved that last chapter, excellently done...

Loved both the posts...Brilliant stuff, as ever...

Oh, old news...



McWife was the fan of this one...I just caught a few of the episodes...Loved the original film, and quite liked what I saw of the series...The one set in the past where Roger Daltry had to pretend to be dead and Duncan investigate was priceless!...But I didn't see all that many of them, just sit through the wife's explainations of what happened...I did like that Amanda when she had the long hair though...Wasn't a fan of the cropped blonde, personally speaking...*Thinks*...Not that I'm against the cropped blonde look at all, just not on her...*Thinks again*...And I mean her as in Amanda...not H.E.R...I'm sure she'd be beautiful with cropped blonde...

...

Aw dang...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

Well, I am! Too many dumb blonds running around here! I have yet to write a blonde character who isn't a tall, gun-totin' butch Norwegian (and she is awesome!!). And yes, Sorensen is a cropped blonde . . . Me, I was once a cropped red . . .

Anymyhoo, as McB would say Rather enjoyed the conversation/discussion between Aela and Meen-Sa. Like Aela and Acadian, I too found Meen-Sa's comments difficult to read. This is not meant as a critique of your writing, but rather quite the opposite. As in RL, it's wonderful that characters are sometimes difficult to pin down. One of the biggest pitfalls of writing is getting inside a non-protagonist's head when the scene is being written from a different POV. Howinthehell am I supposed to know what you are thinking?? I only have your body language, your tone of voice, your words, and what I know of your past actions to judge your intentions by. This just adds to the flavor that is Meen-Sa the character.

With road construction season finally drawing to a close around here, I regret that Aela and her archon were not employed by the road crews on my commuting route this past summer! Maybe things might have gotten done faster if that big earth mover was present!

Hmmm... I wonder if this tension between Aela and Meen-Sa is going to be an issue later. And if taking over her Undine wasn't an impolitic thing to do? I like the way she reveres the Hist a little too much, for her own good.

I always like the way your characters use magic in ways that make sense. Although I can't ever figure out whether they're using it to the best advantage. I think I remember you discussing whether it made more sense to fortify your own strength, or summon a minion to carry for you, and having two characters make opposite choices.

Acadian: Some people might say that mages make the best of everything... You can bet Ungarion is at the top of that list too!

The Khajiit only lick that area to get the taste of their cooking out of their mouths. Well, that's what I heard anyway!

That was meant to show that conjuring is not easy, and requires more than just the ability to cast the spell to begin with. One needs discipline to keep the spirit under control, and that includes keeping your own thoughts and feelings in order.

If you are uncertain about Meen-Sa, consider this. Does she ever state that Aela has the right to determine her own identity? Or does she insist that Aela must be what she was born as? I think that cuts right down to it.


King Coin: I also think the vats would be the biggest problem to replace. That would take the work of an actual foundry, and would be beyond the villagers. Though you never know, Ungarion might be able to do something with a summoned salamander...

I figure that most Argonians do think that humans tend to look alike. Just like the opposite. But Meen-Sa is a magician, and can read Aela's aura. So that is how she could quickly clue into Aela being two-spirited. She starts out making a statement about Aela's energy making no sense.

Aela is used to prejudice. But that does not make it any easier to deal with. She's no Dali Lama. Like most people, it just makes her angry. She tried to play nice, but in the end that did not work. That scene was just an example of everyday life for Aela.


McBadgere: People everywhere have their biases and prejudices. It just changes with the scenery. Meen-Sa was one way I wanted to show that.

I was never a big fan of Awomanda either, especially not with the short white hair. If she had kept it long it probably would have looked alot better. But even hair aside, she's a pretty useless character. The only time she ever kills anyone in Highlander is after Duncan had beaten the guy, and she sneaked in to behead him when he was down. She is pretty much there to be a helpless female for the big strong manly hero to rescue.


haute ecole rider: As I said to Acadian about Meen-Sa, if you are really uncertain, think back to Aela's discussion with Seridwe about people who believe that birth pre-determines their future vs. those who believe that it is the individual's right and ability to choose their own fate. Compare that to Meen-Sa's insistence that Aela be what she was born to be.

The rest was meant to be a little unclear. Bigots do not always shout and level accusatory fingers. Many can be very calm and cogent in the presentation of their views. Though often it comes down to "you were born this way, you must be this way, because X said so." X of course being their religion, their government, their parents, etc... Meen-Sa is just an example of the kind of people Aela has to deal with on a regular basis.


ghastley: Aela is wondering if she is going to have to worry about Meen-Sa in the future as well. That will be brought up in a few more episodes. Like you said, Meen-Sa can be a bit too close-minded for her own good. I am not sure if fanatical is the right word. Perhaps intractable. She is not very flexible in her thinking, or one to try to look at situations from another point of view. Rather she tends to be very conservative, and do and think and feel what she has been told to all of her life.

I do not think there always is a best advantage to using magic. I think it is like the magic items in the game, some people like this thing over that. It all just depends on what suits the individual's likes and talents.


Previously On Seven: In our last episode Aela and her summoned archaean went to work digging a moat around Agrigento, and using the excavated dirt to build up a rampart. Meen-Sa briefly came to assist, but the two soon had a discussion about Aela's gender identity that turned into an argument, as Meen-Sa could not accept that Aela was living as a woman when her body had been born male. In the end Aela's spirit took matters into his own hands, slinging a handful of mud at the water-priestess. That was the end of the discussion, and Aela continued on with the work alone.


Chapter 2.5


Magnus hung low over the western horizon when Ungarion appeared over the rim of the ditch that Aela and her archaean were digging in.

"I don't suppose you found any gold down there?" the Altmer called out, "or precious stones?"

"None as precious as you my friend." Aela looked up with a smile. She wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. A glance down revealed that not only were her hands stained with dirt and mud, but her clothing as well. She could only imagine how dirty her face must be. Part of her thought of pulling out her hand-mirror to look. But another part was too afraid to see.

"Well, that goes without saying of course…" the Altmer beamed. He waved at her to come up. "Come on out of there. It's time for dinner."

Aela clambered up the steep slopes of the ditch, and in no time at all slipped and fell face-first into the dirt. She closed her eyes, and thought of the archaean below her. A pair of massive hands gently wrapped around her waist, and she felt herself lifted into the air. A moment later she found herself just as softly set down upon the embankment where Ungarion stood. A glance back found her conjured spirit dutifully waiting behind her. Without having to say a word, she gave the spirit her thanks, and bid the archaean a quiet evening. A moment later he faded into dust.

"Oh my, you really are quite a mess," Ungarion said. "All of this hot, sweaty work is simply unconscionable for mages of our stature."

"I notice that you avoided getting dirty," Aela observed.

"That is because I know how to take care of myself." The Altmer mage made a grandiose flourish with his hands, and Aela could feel the energy grow within his slender fingers. A moment later he set his hands upon her shoulders and gave her a little shake. With that the dirt and grime all fell from her clothing, leaving them looking as if they had just come from the laundry tub.

"You always were better at Alteration," the Breton Witch murmured. Raising her hand, she channeled her magicka into her Bloom spell. A moment later the sweat and grunge vanished from her skin and hair as well, and she felt completely refreshed.

"So what have you been up to?" the Breton asked as they headed into the village. Aela noted that now a few villagers had dared to leave their homes. Most were gawking at the high palisade that she and her spirit had been building around the edge of the settlement. A few simply walked to and fro through the village however. All of those nearby stopped to stare and her and Ungarion.

"I assisted our trusty axemen in the forest," Ungarion practically boasted.

"You, swinging an axe?" Aela's eyes goggled. "Now that I wish I had seen."

"Oh Magnus forbid!" the high elf proclaimed. "I would never debase myself with manual labor. No, I was there to cast feather spells upon the lumber. I am sure it made things much easier for those sweaty, muscle-bound fellows. Speaking of easier, I thought that the water priestess was going to be helping you with the moat?"

"If by helping, you mean lecturing me in how unnatural it is to be a two-spirit person then yes, she was of great assistance," Aela frowned.

"Oh my," Ungarion sighed. "I should have thought that a society that openly accepts two-spirits like hijra would not have such people. Especially not a priestess!"

"Apparently only Argonians are allowed to be two-spirits," Aela breathed. "The rest of us are supposed to be the way our gods made us."

"We are all born not capable of holding in our wastes," Ungarion murmured. "That is how the gods made us as well. I suppose she thinks it's blasphemy to potty train children then?"

Aela could not restrain a smile. "I'll have to remember that for the next time," she said dryly.

"My wisdom is a light to the world." Ungarion raised his nose high and affected his most dignified prince-of-parchment pose. That brought a real chuckle from Aela, and in no time at all one from the Altmer as well.

Dinner turned out to be tempura with rice, and was waiting for them when Ungarion and Aela arrived at Rullianus' home. The Breton noted that the hearth was cold and the cooking ware was clean. So clearly the meal had been prepared elsewhere and brought in. She wondered who they had to thank for their meal? But she soon forgot as she dove into the tasty dish.

Naturally the entire thing was washed down with soju, which Talun-Lei poured for them in small cups. The Argonian explained to them that one never poured their own soju, and that a glass could never be refilled until it was completely empty. He went on to explain that when pouring for others, one must hold the bottle by the right hand, with your arm supported by your left hand at the elbow. Then there came a host of other rules, such as how to hold your cup, who could drink before others, and more that Aela simply could not be bothered to remember.

"When do these ones find time to drink with all of these rules!" Do'Sakhar laughed.

The others seemed to like the soju however. Aela found the clear liquid to be slightly sweet in taste, which she enjoyed, but it had a kick like a mule. For someone who was used to drinking nothing stronger than wine, Aela knew that it was something she had best only take in moderation. A great deal of moderation. She vowed to see if Ulpia had any Argonian White Tea the next morning…

Rullianus himself was nowhere to be found, and Aela noted that one of the sleeping mats that she had seen rolled up against the back wall earlier was now missing. Only the dusty one remained. Do'Sakhar said that the Agrigentan was sleeping in another home. Given how crowded it was with the seven mercenaries, Aela was actually thankful there was not an eighth person competing for space.

Old news: Forgive me, my friend, if I didn’t fully capture your intent. I count the fault as my own, for I have not walked in Aela’s boots. I guess my wishful hope was that the comic image of Aela’s helper slinging a fistful of mud would provide a tension-dispelling and mirthful opening of understanding that the ladies might step through. Friendships often start from butting heads (Sir Mazoga, I’m lookin’ at you! ). I must also confess a deep affection for Argonian women (like Kud-Ei and Tar-Meena) that is likely shading my objectivity. Thank you for your words of explanation.

The interchange between Aela and her prince of parchment with precious stones continues to be delightfully fun!

Great progress in the construction of Fort Agrigento!

The help getting up that slippery slope from Aela's summon was wonderfully natural, and I loved how she gently dismissed him with her thanks. I very much enjoy how you portray summons with such respect. In game, I find it very easy to become attached and loyal to them, and even protective - sometimes even to the counterproductive point of a reluctance to expose them to harm.

Tempura, rice and soju – thanks for this delicious meal!

Do’Sakhar’s sleeping in another home? Not to be outdone by Valens drilling the villagers, I wonder if Do’Sakhar’s found someone to lick into shape?

Hmm, and another teasing breadcrumb about that mysterious dusty bedroll?

"Well, that goes without saying of course…" the Altmer beamed.

Oh my, Ungarion and his precious stones! The interplay between the two friends was delightful as always.

The Breton noted that the hearth was cold and the cooking ware was clean. So clearly the meal had been prepared elsewhere and brought in. She wondered who they had to thank for their meal? But she soon forgot as she dove into the tasty dish.

I’d like to thank you for the meal! Now I’m going to make chicken katsu this weekend. Perhaps it’s time for an entry in our recipe thread. Anyway I enjoyed the logistics of hosting the seven in one of the huts.

Argonian White Tea! Memories of Morcant.

Now our Magical Seven get to sample the soju that is the village's main source of income. Is that how they will be paid?

I enjoyed the same things Acadian and Grits did. In addition, I especially loved Talun-Lei's instruction on how to drink appropriately! I recognized these rules from the Korean culture - the pouring with the right hand while supporting the elbow with the left actually came from the old days when they would have long, drapey sleeves - the left hand was to hold the right sleeve out of the way so it wouldn't soak up the soju, or tea, or whatever they were pouring. Of course, with Asian culture being the way it is, what started out as a practical solution became a stylized mannerism that remains to this day. Oh yeah, and you couldn't drink while facing your superior - you had to turn away to drink your soju.

I think I much prefer the Nord style - fill 'em to the brim and toss 'em down the hatch. Loud belch afterward optional, but much preferred!

As always, I like the contrast in styles between Aela and Ungarion in their use of magic. As well as his looking for profit in everything.

Drinking always attracts ritual. It's probably a sub-conscious defensive mechanism just to slow ourselves down a bit. And then we go and invent games to speed it up again!

Sorry it took me so long to get to this update, I've been dealing with computer issues since last week. About the last update, Aela just needs to learn to be less hostile to those that would ask questions.

The talk of gold and precious stones, I would think that Aela would be a very good prospector with a little help from her elementals. I was hoping that she would pull Ungarion into the ditch with her!

Acadian: Actually, there will be a mudfight happening later in the chapter, but not directly tied to Meen-Sa's issues with Aela.

You described Aela's relationship with her summonings very well. To her they are people, not just objects. Though thankfully they are beings that transcend physicality, so that even if their 'bodies' are killed, they are still just fine.

It was not Do'Sakhar who is sleeping elsewhere, but Rullianus. I went back and edited to make that more clear.

We will be seeing more about the dusty bedroll in the future, in a mini-episode from Nashira's pov.


Grits: I guess you could say that Ungarion has the stones for this kind of work. Even though he is not in the Fighters Guild.

I looked up Chicken Katsu online, it looks like the American kind, except for the panko breadcrumbs. I love the idea of bread that does not have a crust! I guess you could use a shock spell to make panko bread in Tamriel. Now I am hungry!

I could not resist falling back on the Argonian White Tea, since we are actually in Argonia!


haute ecole rider: The soju is half of their payment. The tempura the other half!

I was tempted to go into more details about all the rules for drinking soju. But it started to make me dizzy! I did not know the part about holding your pouring elbow was because of the flowing sleeves though. Brilliant!


ghastley: Aela and Ungy are very different when it comes to their magic, which makes it easier to write them, since they are not just carbon copies of one another.

Thank goodness for all those drinking rituals! Otherwise we'd all be wasted and puking before it is even 10 o'clock!


King Coin: Well, Aela (or her spirit) did not become hostile until Meen-Sa decided to say that she was unnatural. Until then she played nice. She even laughed to start with. It is just a case of you have to be prepared to take it if you are going to dish it out.

Aela probably would make a good prospector, if she had a mind to go digging around underground. I never thought of that. But she probably would not either.


Previously on Seven: In our last episode Ungarion came to fetch Aela for dinner, and she learned that he had been helping to fell trees in the forest. Not using an axe of course, but rather by casting feather spells on the lumber. Dinner itself was a delicious meal of tempura, and while eating Talun-Lei tried to teach the other Seven the intricate etiquette involved in drinking soju. Finally, Aela noted that even though they were sleeping in his house, Rullianus himself was not present, but was rather sleeping in someone else's abode. A fact she was thankful of given how crowded it already was with the seven mercenaries.


Chapter 2.6

The next day the mercenaries returned to their previous tasks, leaving Aela alone on her ditch-digging enterprise. Except for the spirits of course. She had to admit that she did prefer their company to that of most mortals. Nirn spirits did not judge her, or constantly force her to justify her existence. Instead they accepted her without reservation or question.

She did nor remain alone for long however, for in no time at all a few of the village children came to watch. They thought that they were being clever, hiding above the embankment and peeking down at her from over its rim, only to lower their heads whenever she turned to look. But she could easily hear their poorly-hushed voices from down in the ditch.

Eventually Aela could not resist prevailing upon her archaean to do something about the spies. At her behest, he stopped his digging and turned to face the children. Then he began to jump back and forth from one foot to another, while rubbing his hands under his armpits in a pantomime of an ape. That brought a loud chorus of giggles from above the embankment, and Aela had the spirit continue his show by sticking out a great pebbly tongue at the children. Then he pretended to moon them by turning and bending over to reveal the rocks in his rear. In no time at all the children were standing in the open and laughing as the spirit continued his amusing antics.

"Take a bow for the audience," Aela eventually said, loud enough that her voice would carry to the onlookers above. The archaean complied with a deep bow to the youngsters. Then he turned to go back to the work of digging out the deep trench.

"Perhaps later we'll give another show," Aela called out as the children let out a collective sigh of disappointment. She turned back to the work at hand herself, and when a trickle of water began to spill down into the ditch she scrambled up its outer edge. As she had the day before, she dispelled the archaean and summoned an undine to turn the water out of the nearest rice paddy. Once it was drained, she returned to the ditch, and reconjured her archaean to continue digging and building.

By now more than children were watching her with rapt attention. Human and Argonian adults also clustered along the already-built embankment behind Aela. They pointed and spoke in low tones, clearly amazed at not only the spirit, but the massive amount of soil it was able to move and reshape.

By midday Aela had worked her way behind the village, and the digging picked up speed. There were no rice paddies on that side of the settlement, so she did not have to split her time between resummoning spirits. She saw Seridwe and Nashira working on the hills above, chopping down the forest of bamboo that grew there. Already the lowest slopes had been cleared, leaving nothing but sharpened stumps behind.

Aela took a few moments to watch, and saw that the Redguard swordmaster chopped down each stalk of bamboo with a single, diagonal slice from her scimitar. After felling several of the stalks, she and Seridwe would gather them up and drag them down the hill, where a waiting group of villagers would take them into the village.

Soon Aela found herself coming across their path, and was obliged to leave a break in the ditch so that the transport of bamboo could continue. She vowed to remember to come back when they were finished, so that she could dig out that section of the village perimeter. Still, she had no doubt that Valens would remind her if she did forget. When it came to military matters, the Nibenean seemed to miss nothing.

The Seven took a break at mid-morning, and Aela had to once more use her Bloom spell to make herself presentable. None of them wore their armor for the back-breaking labor under the hot sun. Seridwe was clad in nothing but a crop top and a loose, short skirt that left much of her golden skin on display. Aela could see that the high elf knew the Bloom spell as well, for not only was her hair still perfect, but her skin was clean, dry, and smelled faintly of flowers.

Even Valens had finally discarded his usual all-black attire for a simple breech cloth, albeit of a characteristic ebony shade. His hard, muscled body gleamed under a layer of sweat. But Aela's eyes were drawn to a curious pair of birthmarks over his heart. One mark was a circle with numerous small lines radiating out from it, like a sunburst. The other was a crescent whose horns pointed in toward the first mark.

That is when Aela realized the first mark was not a sunburst, but a star. The crescent could only be one of the moons. A moon and star. Azura could not have marked her territory more plainly…

Meen-Sa was waiting for them with a jug of cool water and cups for all. Aela made an effort to remain upon her best behavior, and just to be extra careful dispelled her archaean before approaching the priestess. That way there would be no further mud-slinging incidents. For her own part, the Argonian was not especially antagonistic. Though she was hardly friendly either. Rather her face seemed to be set in stone, and she said nothing to the Breton.

Many of the villagers joined them, including those who had aided in the labors. Aela noted that the original four Agrigentans who had journeyed to Bravil to hire them - Ulpia, Rullianus, Stalks-The-Marshes, and Hathei - were representative of the community. It was all Imperials and Argonians, with nary a member of another race.

Because of that lack of racial diversity, Aela found that for once she was not the one being constantly stared at. Instead the Agrigentans seemed fascinated with Do'Sakhar for his fur, Nashira for her reddish brown skin, and finally Ungarion and Seridwe for their tall frames and creamy golden flesh.

Ungarion ate up the attention of course. There was nothing he loved better than to show off. In no time at all he had his deck of cards out and was performing tricks for the villagers, adult and child alike. He followed with other sleight-of-hand tricks, such as drawing copper coins from behind the ears of children, and even producing a live chicken from beneath a startled Hathei's tail.

"Your friend certainly knows how to win people over," Ulpia smiled as she watched the impromptu show beside Aela.

"It is one of the things he is best at," Aela admitted. "I wish I had even half of his charm."

"Oh, I think you do just fine," the Imperial woman said softly.

For a moment, Aela wondered if she detected a look of longing in the other woman's voice. But then it was gone, and Ulpia burst out into laughter at Ungarion's latest antic.

The wizard had tried on a villager's conical reed hat, and was having some trouble taking it off again. No matter how hard he pulled, pushed, twisted, or turned the hat, it seemed glued to his head. It was only after enlisting help from the audience that the combined effort was able to pry the headgear loose. Then after wiping the sweat from his brow with a hand cloth, the high elf ran into the same difficulty, as it too refused to budge from his fingers afterward.

"Your water priestess might disagree," Aela could not help but mutter under her breath.

"You mean the mud-slinging incident?" Ulpia smiled and turned to look at Aela once more. "I heard about that. Knowing her, I'm sure she had it coming."

"Knowing her?" Aela raised an eyebrow.

"She's rather… hidebound," Ulpia replied. "Her mother was very traditional, and Meen-Sa's a twig off the same branch. She hides behind religion like a warrior does a shield. Anything that doesn't fit into her narrow view of how the world is supposed to be is 'unnatural'."

"That is exactly what she called me," Aela frowned.

"I am not surprised," Ulpia said. "We have never had a two-spirit person here in Agrigento. Not one that admitted to it at least. I doubt anyone who was would come out with it. The truth is, people are very conservative here. They aren't used to change, or anything different at all."

"So people are talking about it then?" Aela sighed. That was just what she needed. Now the entire village would be gossiping about her - and her being a two-spirit - behind her back.

"Not that much really," the Imperial explained. "Only a few people saw Meen-Sa before she cleaned herself up. She is a water-priestess after all. Besides, with everything else going on, there is no shortage of things to talk about. Especially after that performance of Talun-Lei's in the square the day we arrived."

A wave of relief washed over Aela. As a priestess, Meen-Sa was an important member of the community. She could make life very hard for her indeed. But if she was not trumpeting what had happened - even if just to avoid her own embarrassment - then things might work out after all. Only time would tell.

After the momentary break had stretched out for at least an hour, Valens finally put an end to the frivolities. Like the drill instructor he appeared to have once been, he put all of their noses back to the grindstone. At least now however, villager and mercenary alike returned to their chores with a smile.

Well, I am finally caught up (again), and I'm going to see how long this endeavor of regular commenting will last. Start placing bets.

Anyways, I'm impressed with your descriptive level of detail, as always. The progress being made to the village's defense seems to be going quite smoothly, and I know that because you've drawn it out so well. Between the importance of leaving a small pathway through the ditch for the bamboo-clearing and the fact that the ditch-digging is progressing more quickly now that Aela's away from the rice paddies, you've managed to de-monotonize the rather monotonous work of digging said ditch. Entertaining the kids was a fun pause as well.


Well, not necessarily. Azura could have perma-conjured a big, glowing, rotating sign that said "Azura's Chosen" above Valens's head with a set of illuminated arrows that all point down in a funnel-shaped fashion from the sign to his head.

Still, a nice touch that the Champion of a Daedric Prince would be so marked. I'd say more, but my home has been oddly quiet for a few minutes now, so I think Sethyas is somewhere hereabouts.

Nit:

Eh, may want to check with your archaean, I think he buried a "said" somewhere during the morning's ditch-digging.

‘Except for the spirits of course. She had to admit that she did prefer their company to that of most mortals. Nirn spirits did not judge her, or constantly force her to justify her existence. Instead they accepted her without reservation or question.’ - - Ya gotta love critters, spirits and summons, in large part, for exactly the reasons Aela outlines.

And the man of mystery (Valens) shows off his Moon and Starbucks tat by Azura!

It sounds like progress regarding the village defenses is coming along swimmingly, with even some showmanship by Rocky the Spirit and Ungarion the Magician.

Seridwe is fully blessed with the understanding of just how important is is that one’s wardrobe be crafted with the robust flexibility to fully support any task at hand. After all, what good is doing something if one can’t look good while doing it? And clearly that extends to being impeccably coiffed for a work break. Yay Seridwe!

It will be fun to see if anything develops in the truce between Two Spirit and Water Priestess.

Love the antics with the young Argonians.

Aela would not only make a great prospector, but also a very productive farmer too. I doubt she would do that either though. This little bit of construction work now, and then after the war will be as close as she gets.

Birthmarks on Valens? I’d say more like the mark of a Daedra. And he claims to not serve/worship her. Wonder if he’s truthful, or if Azura is just patient with her champions.

At least Meen-Sa and Aela were civil. Perhaps you did intend for her to be more antagonistic and I just didn’t pick up on it.

Loved the little show during the break. If nothing else, the wizard will be remembered fondly. Made me think a little of a young version of Gandalf visiting the hobbits.

As always you do a wonderful job of pulling us into what would otherwise be a boring interlude. Getting to know some more of the villagers and showing how the different members of the Seven "dress down" for work has been interesting. Somehow I am not surprised by Nashira's approach to bamboo harvesting - those diagonal slices leave excellent sharp stakes behind for our anticipated visitors!

Trying to picture the archaean's antics for the kids made me grin in delight. Normally those things seem so scary and impressive, to have one acting so foolishly and on a level that children easily understand is a real treat.

I suspect Meen-Sa may have a glimmer of an idea of how foolish and "wrong" her words may have been, especially for a water priestess. Ironic, as water conforms to its environment, she doesn't?

I loved the antics of Aela’s archaean. Ungarion’s show was just as enjoyable. I laughed when he pulled the live chicken out from under Hathei’s tail. I imagine that the chicken was also startled.

Valens’ mark of Azura and Seridwe’s impeccable grooming were wonderful details. This was a great episode. Time passed, work progressed, and we observed things about the characters that are consistent with what we already learned about them. The growing bond with the villagers makes everything the Seven do for them feel more personal.

Captain Hammer: Hammertime! Thanks for unearthing my said. Never trust those archaeans...

I am glad the monotonous work of preparing the defenses is not being monotonous. The rest of Chapter 2 is of a similar nature, showing the preparations for the upcoming battle, and the interactions of the characters during it.

I wanted to shed a bit more (moon or star)light onto the man of mystery. The birthmark seemed like a perfect means, as I recalled that in Morrowind the Urishailaku Shaman says about the Nerevarine that: "Some say he bore a moon-and-star birthmark."


Acadian: I am still laughing at the moon and starbucks tat. I guess that means Azura lives in Seattle?

I could not resist Seridwe showing off her statuesque frame in the work scenes. Like you said, nothing is worth doing, unless you are going to look good while doing it.


King Coin: I could not resist the impromptu comedy act by Rocky the Spirit. If nothing else to show that Aela has a sense of humor. You are right, I do not see her ever becoming a farmer or miner. Though her spirits would make either easy!

Remember a while back I said in the comments that it seemed that Valens doth protest too much about Azura? The birthmark is one more hint about his mysterious fate in the east.

It is funny you mentioned Gandalf. Though I do not think he was ever young! I did sort of have him in mind. The same with Johnny Depp in Benny and Joon, where he is doing a lot of Buster Keaton style physical comedy.


haute ecole rider: I did have those sharpened bamboo stumps in mind with the way Nashira was cutting. But that is also the way the sword master always seems to show off in the samurai movies too...

Water also seeks its level, so you never know about Meen-Sa...


Grits: Showing the growing bond between the Seven and the villagers is what Chapter 2 is all about. It is good to hear that it is working.


Previously On Seven: Our last episode found the Seven continuing their work on the village defenses. Aela found herself being watched by some of the village children, and had her summoned spirit put on an impromptu comedy show for them. Later during their lunch break Ungarion also entertained all with card tricks and sleight of hand. Finally Aela discovered from Ulpia that the mudslinging incident with Meen-Sa was not widely circulated.


Chapter 2.7

Aela finished digging the ditch that day. As she predicted, Valens reminded her to dig out that little landbridge she had left for moving the cut bamboo into the village. He seemed impressed with her work however, and they took a tour of the breastworks before nightfall. He even approved of how she had set the timbers of the wall to alternate between chest height and head height, like a crenellated parapet on a castle. She knew from experience that the higher sections would give the defenders refuge from missiles, while the lower ones would give them gaps through which to attack with their own bows or spears.

"It would have taken hundreds of men to dig this out in the time you did it. Not to mention to reset the timber wall. I'm impressed." Before Aela could let the words of praise go to her head however, he continued. "Tomorrow you can dig that tunnel between the distillery and the stable."

So the next day Aela found herself toiling within the bowels of Nirn, with only her night eye spell to see by. More than ever she was thankful for the archaean, who did not so much dig the soil out of the ground as shift it aside to create the passage. That made it unnecessary to cart wagonloads of dirt out of the ground. The spirit also took the local stones and blended them together into single, seamless pieces of rock. From these he created braces every six feet or so to prevent the ceiling from collapsing.

As the tunnel ran a much shorter distance than the moat, Aela finished her work by noon. She emerged to find Valens leading the effort to build shields from the timber they had felled in the previous days. At his direction the villagers cut the wood into planks. These they laid over one another in a criss-cross pattern of two layers, held together by fish glue. These half-inch thick cores were cut into round discs just under three feet in diameter. A hand grip was added to the interior, the edges were rimmed with rawhide, and the outside was faced in linen glued to its surface. Then finally each finished shield was treated with oil to waterproof it.

In the meantime Nashira continued hacking the bamboo stems they had collected into spears, poles and spikes for the frises, and punji sticks for the currently dry moat. The taciturn Redguard appeared to take the task as seriously as she did her duel in Bravil, and her face remained a mask of razor-sharp focus the entire time.

They took a break for a simple lunch of rice flavored with Argonian brown sauce - a fish sauce spiced with garlic, basil, and lemongrass. Talun-Lei showed them how to eat the meal with Argonian kuaizi sticks: two slender bamboo sticks held between the fingers and thumb in lieu of a fork or spoon.

The Argonian tried to teach them that is. Of all the other Seven, only Do'Sakhar was able to master using the sticks. The fumbling attempts of Aela and the others brought amused giggles and chuckles from the villagers. Aela imagined that she would have an easier time using her bare fingers, and like most of the others, she eventually surrendered and used a wooden spoon.

The next day Valens was training the villagers in the use of spear and shield. Only the children and the elderly were left out. Even old Hathei, who begged off the combat training, was dragged into the line by Rullianus. The Imperial pointed out that despite his age, the Argonian was still as fit and capable as a marsh croc.

Unlike the individual training that Valens had offered on The Niben Queen, this was something entirely different. Instead he taught the villagers to stand in line and form a shield wall. The first rank would kneel and ground their round shields. They were so tightly packed that the edges of their shields overlapped with those to either side. The second rank would then step right up beside the first and hold their shields high, so they filled the gaps left above and between the first rank's shields. The end result was a double row of overlapping shields that faced Valens, appearing as immovable as the timber wall surrounding the village.

The Nibenean tested the strength of the wall with a single kick from an ebony-armored boot. The entire wall collapsed under the blow, and the villagers fell hither and thither. Even those nowhere near the Nibenean's blow scurried away like mice. Valens was left in the aftermath, shaking his head in dismay. It was clear to Aela that the drill instructor had a great deal of work ahead of him…

Screenshot

* * *

Do'Sakhar took a break from planting punji stakes in the ditch surrounding the hamlet. He climbed the dirt wall of the dry moat on hands and feet, frequently slipping in the loose soil. But once he had reached the top, the Khajiit easily scampered over the crenellated wall.

Settling down inside, he drew forth a short piece of bamboo bearing a single line of holes along its length. Taking out his carving knife, he cut a final hole in the shaft. Once he was satisfied it was just right, the Khajiit held the flute sideways to his lips, and blew a gentle flow of air through the instrument.

A soft whistle issued from the flute, like the sound of a bird. Working the key holes with the pads of his fingers, Do'Sakhar transformed the simple noise into a haunting melody. As he played, his memory fled back to his days as a cub, when his mother had first taught him the flute.

Thoughts of the Black Marsh, Agrigento, and Nagas fled from his mind. Do'Sakhar found himself sitting on his mother's lap outside their adobe home in Dune. The hot sun warmed his fur, and his tail danced in delight as his mother played for him.

"Let Khajiit play, mommy!" he cried, pawing for the slender flute in his mother's hands. The golden-furred Khajiit smiled back him, and obligingly lowered the musical instrument to his lips. Yet the sound that issued forth was anything but musical!

"Who farted!" his father laughed. He was tall and lean, with fur dotted by large dark spots. Today he wore his lamellar armor, and carried his sandcrawler bow strapped across his back. He bent down to lift Do'Sakhar in his paws, and the young Khajiit responded with a contented purr as his father held him to his shoulder. But in no time at all he felt himself lowered to the ground, and then it was his mother who embraced his father.

"It is time then Do'zhad?" she said with a dread in her voice that the cub could not understand.

"Aye Rinassi," his father responded grimly. "The tree-huggers have been drawn out near Castle Sphinxmoth. Today we shall finish them, and avenge what they did in Torval."

"Will the round-ears assist?"

"Nay, when do they ever get off their tailless rears and do anything, except collect taxes?" His father spat in the dust to emphasize his words. "Khajiit fight alone, as ever."

"Then be careful," Do'Sakhar's mother admonished. "Stay behind the shield-bearers, don't expose yourself, and don't be a hero. One father is worth any ten of those."

"Aye, aye woman," his father shook his head, then grinned. "And Do'zhad won't drink the water, or talk to strangers. Cannot Khajiit have any fun?"

"Just bring yourself home alive," his mother fretted.

"That is this one's promise," he declared. "And you my little cub, when Do'zhad returns from chastising those bark-biters, perhaps he shall teach this one to use the bow? Then Do'Sakhar shall become a real Khajiit warrior!"

"Yes father, yes!" Do'Sakhar cried.

"Until then, watch for sand scorpions, and defend the house," his father said. "You will see your father again in no time at all.

But of course Do'Sakhar never saw him again.

The sound of footsteps brought Do'Sakhar back to the present, and he opened his eyes to find a trio of children standing around him. One of them - an Imperial boy of roughly ten years - cradled a rattan helmet in his hands, and held it out to the desert warrior.

"These ones made this for you," a young Argonian girl declared. "It's like the ones our parents made today."

Do'Sakhar set down his flute, and lifted the helmet of hard, woven fibers over his head. He was relieved to note that they had even made holes on either side of the headgear for his ears to stick through. "I am certain this will serve this one well in the coming battle. Khajiit thanks these ones for their generosity."

"Oh, you don't have to thank us," a second Imperial boy declared. "We drew you."

"These ones… drew Khajiit?" Do'Sakhar wondered aloud.

"Yes," the Argonian replied. "All of us kids in the village drew lots, to see which of you we would get."

"We got you," the first Imperial boy said. "I'm Luka." He pointed to the other Imperial, "that's Dellius." Finally he indicated the Argonian girl, "She's Teegla."

"Do'Sakhar sees," the mercenary said, wondering what on Nirn they were talking about? "And now that these ones have Khajiit, what shall they do with him?"

"When you die, we'll put flowers on your grave!" Teegla declared with pride.

"And we'll keep it clean, so weeds don't grow over it," Dellius said resolutely.

"Well now, that is a great relief to Do'Sakhar," the Khajiit warrior smiled. "But this one hopes he would not disappoint too much, if he were to survive?"

"Oh, we'd be just as happy if you lived!" Teegla agreed.

"Well, almost," Luka said.

Ooooh, another advantage of spending time with the defense building is that we’ll be able to picture it clearly without a lot of description when the fight comes. *takes notes*

Ugh, the tunnel-digging sounds horrible! Not only under dirt, but under wet dirt. I was kind of gasping for breath during that part. Though I suppose Aela’s dirt and water spirit friends make her more comfortable. Even if not physically. The archaean concrete was awesome!

I really liked Do’Sakhar’s part. The memory of his father going off during the Five Year War and not returning added a layer to the kids’ plan to look after Do’Sakhar’s grave. I wonder if his dad’s grave gets tended, or is even marked.


"Oh, we'd be just as happy if you lived!" Teegla agreed.

"Well, almost," Luka said.

Luka’s remark sounded very real. Trust a kid to say the thing he thinks without regard for how it sounds!

I could echo what Grits said about this latest installment.

While reading Aela's time underground, I had flashbacks to scenes from my other favorite movie -- Charles Bronson digging out Tom, Dick and Harry and the challenges those POWs faced in digging in sandy soil. Aela should at least be grateful for that much! I imagine it would be more difficult to make concrete arches out of dry sand than it would out of swamp mud.

I really enjoyed the glimpse into Do'sakhar's POV - it was tun and interesting. However I noticed that his parents did not speak in the third person as Do-sakhar does. It it because they spent more time around Imperials and picked up the tailless folk's way of speaking? Or is there another reason for this? I am curious to find out - will we?

Totally loved the interaction between the kids and Do'sakhar. Though I thought Korean grave mounds were grass-covered? They were kept clean of weeds, watered and fertilized so a nice cover of grass would grow. Not that you have to use this model, but as so much of the village culture is borrowing from the SE Asian cultures, I keep thinking of something like this.

The reward for a job well done is more work.

Those poor Argonians and their frail shield wall. They have a lot more work to do before they will be able to defend themselves from the Naga.

An unexpected, but welcome shift of perspective. His memories were interesting, and the interaction with the children enjoyable.

"Oh, we'd be just as happy if you lived!" Teegla agreed.

"Well, almost," Luka said.

This actually had me laughing!

Rocky is such a wonderful help for digging that tunnel!

Punji sticks! I wonder if the Seven will dip them in Argonian brown sauce troll dung? Quite a defense they’re building! Speaking of sticks, that was a fun scene with the chop sticks. They can indeed be frustrating to new users.

The shield wall was very neat in that it not only showed a great defensive tactic, but displayed the training necessary to have it stand up against a determined foe (or ebony boot in this case). Aela is right, Valen has plenty of work ahead of him.

"Do'Sakhar sees," the mercenary said, wondering what on Nirn they were talking about? "And now that these ones have Khajiit, what shall they do with him?" - - This was such a wonderful passage within a completely delightful little aside involving the tiger-striped Khajiit. Like Rider often does, you used the 'flashback' technique very well for showing us a memory from his childhood. We learned much about both him and the village’s children here.


Nit?
‘But of course Do'Sakhar never saw him again.
But of course he never saw his father again.’ - - Is this redundant or did I simply miss something?

Oh Luka, you rapscallion, you. This is the point where Do'Sakhar should mention that he's putting Luka on The List in case he gets an opportunity. Childhood innocence is such a precious thing, and turning it around with such a simple thing as A List is one of the few things that is as hilarious.

So, Aela and her Archaean are busy bothering the mole people and recovering buried saids from under the village, which, as you pointed out, is more of the stuff that goes into an actual battle but never quite seems to get as much in the spotlight as the other parts of the story. I'm glad to see you depicting this, with all the architectural and engineering rolls a skilled Wizard should have, but never seems to use (seriously, lots of D&D campaigns, rare for the party wizard to roll those skills. The rogue would, but not the wizard).

I cannot act surprised that the shield wall collapsed so quickly. The villagers are lucky. If a professional pilus prior with bit of a bigger shouting streak (think: Angry Julian!) was there, they'd probably be wanting to tear their ears off after that.

So, Do'Sakhar's father was in the Five Year War. More and more, you weave the background events of the late Third Era into your narrative with skill and flavor. I wonder, though, whether Do'Sakhar is still trying to make his father proud of the warrior that he grew to become. That will be interesting to see.

Grits: I am just hoping that everyone does not forget all of the description I put into the village during these scenes! That is the only problem with laying the groundwork ahead, so to speak.

Archaean concrete just sprang into my mind as I was writing, and realized that there would be a need for braces. Necessity is indeed the mother of invention.

Do'Sakhar's part was very rewarding to write. I was originally going to only do the part with the children. But as I began to write, I realized that I wanted to show something more of his past, and why he has the attitudes he does today. I never really thought about his father's grave. Since the Khajiit won that battle (described in Mixed Unit Tactics), it stands to reason that his body would have been recovered. So he should have a grave in Dune. Assuming Khajiit bury their dead. That is something I never thought of either. Maybe they cremate them?


haute ecole rider: I did not realize how Imperial the Khajiit's speech sounded in the flashback. It is just an example of how much a pain in the rear I find writing the third person style dialogue. I am glad you mentioned it, because I went back and edited it to sound more third person.

I never really thought about grave mounds and what the Argonian/Agrigentan custom might be. We know the Imperial's seem bury their dead from the graves we see in Oblivion. Same with the Nords in Skyrim. But I never really considered what the Khajiit or Argonians might do.


King Coin: A mage's work is never done. Aela does not even get to work with the others. She's exiled to the pits to toil alone...

The kid's dialogue is inspired by The Magnificent Seven. A group of local kids 'adopted' Charles Bronson's character, and had a similar response to his suggestion that he might not die. It was one of those things that I took notes about to put into Seven as an homage.


Acadian: Do'h! That double sentence was a leftover of some editing. Thanks for catching it!

Where would Aela be without Rocky? Sweating it out with a shovel most likely. I am so glad that I was able to make spirits such varied and useful creatures in this story. I think they really came into their own as something other than a means to kill bad guys.

That little flashback was indeed inspired by hot collie's outstanding use of little flashbacks to build character's stories. I learned a lot about that from her writing.


Captain Hammer: One of the things that always disappointed me about RPGs is how they often depict magic in purely terms of how it can be used as a weapon. Rarely have I ever seen games explore the 'civilian' applications for magic, like in construction, transportation, textiles, agriculture, and so on. One of the things I like about writing is it gives me the chance to think about how people would apply magic to their everyday lives and make them better.

I did briefly think of drill sergeant Hartmann/R. Lee Ermey in that shield wall scene. But I want Valens to come across as a different kind of trainer than the shouting sergeant. For him drill sessions are actually when he becomes more personable, and less surly. Though obviously it does not lessen the frustration...

The History Channel's Vikings show had an outstanding depiction of a shield wall in action in one of their early episodes. It was very heartening to see something like that on television.

That is a good eye to Do'Sahkar's motivations. I think his father's ghost is never far from him, for good and for ill. For example, he chose to eschew the life of a 'regular' person and became a wandering warrior instead. Perhaps he never could lead an ordinary life?


Previously On Seven: Our last episode found Aela digging out a tunnel between the brewery and the stable, with her summoned archaean doing the real work of course. Topside, Valens led the villagers in making round shields with the wood that had been felled in previous days. In the meantime Nashira and others made simple spears from bamboo shafts. Valens then began training them to fight in a shield wall. In a second scene Do'Sakhar took a break from planting punji stakes in the bed of the ditch surrounding the village. He finished carving a flute, and as he played, his mind went back to the last day he saw his father. It was during the Five Year War, when the Khajiit fought the Bosmer outside of his home city of Dune. His father was one of the few Khajiit casualties that day. He was interrupted by a group of village children, who gave him a helmet they had made of wicker. The kids explained that they had all drawn lots for which of the Seven they were responsible for, and told Do'Sakhar that they would tend his grave after he died. The Khajiit hoped that they would not be disappointed if he survived...


Chapter 2.8

"Will this work for making your potions?"

Aela smiled as she looked over the black lacquered alembic and its attendant jugs and pots. It was far larger than she would normally use for making potions. The alembic itself stood several feet high, and sat upon a simple oven created by a stone cradle with an open space beneath for firewood. Likewise the terra cotta pots and jugs would hold gallons of liquid, not the usual sipfulls one normally brewed.

Screenshot

"It's a little big, but I think it will work," Aela judged. "I'll just make it all in one big batch. Thankfully I gathered a lot of dragon's tongue and fly amanita yesterday afternoon. I can start making healing potions with those. I saw bog beacon and green stain mushrooms on the walk here. Maybe tomorrow I can gather some up and make a batch of shield potions, and another of restore fatigue potions."

"I am afraid we probably do not have enough bottles to go around to put it all in," Ulpia spread her hands out. "I suppose we could just keep each in a different jug."

"Just so long as no one mistakes them for soju, and drinks them all!" Aela winked.

"The Nine forbid!" Ulpia laughed. "Why don't you come in and have some tea before you get started?"

"I was hoping you would say that," Aela admitted. Ever since she had sampled some of the Imperial's Argonian White Tea, she had been thinking of little else every time she took a drink.

Like Rullianus' abode, Ulpia's home was a sparely furnished affair. It was laid out in the same manner, with an area for sleeping mats in the back, hearth and kitchen in the center, and living space by the front door. Aela noted that unlike Rullianus, Ulpia kept a small case of books. She noted several alchemical volumes, a few on history, and finally a dozen novels by Juno Austenius and others. Her eye also noted that there was only one sleeping mat rolled up in the back of the home. Ulpia lived alone.

"I read many of these books at University," Aela thought aloud, "that one by Sinderion, and Grognak's Regional Guides."

"Those were my father's," Ulpia said from where she sat at the hearthstone, where she struck up a low blaze. The Imperial filled a simple iron teapot with water and set it on a metal grill above the hearth. Then while the water heated, she produced a pair of worn clay cups and a jar of crushed tea leaves. "He was one of the original founders of Agrigento."

"So yours is a new settlement?" Aela lifted an eyebrow in surprise.

"Yes," Ulpia admitted. "Well relatively. Our parents came here from the Imperial City over three decades ago. They were joined by many Argonians when they reached the Black Marsh, and together they created Agrigento."

"That is quite a change," Aela said. "To go from the Imperial City to here."

"You mean from the cosmopolitan heart of the Empire to the middle of nowhere?" Ulpia said. "Perhaps not quite as much as it might seem. My parents - and the other founders - were not rich. They were all proles. They scraped up every last drake they could save, or steal, for the journey. The same was true of the Argonians. They were all remanless: outcasts, refugees, and others with nowhere to go. For them, Agrigento was a chance for a new start."

"They did well for themselves," Aela said honestly. She had seen the slums of the Arena district while she had attended the University, and worse, the degradation of the Chamber Pot. A little farming village like Agrigento had its charms compared to such places.

"So where did the soju come into it?" Aela wondered.

"My father had worked in a brewery," Ulpia said, "sweeping, carrying jugs, things like that. But he paid attention to what the brewmasters were doing. When he got here he learned of the Argonian's native drink. Since they had the rice, he started making it with that cookery behind the house. One thing led to another, and eventually they had sold enough soju to buy the copper for one vat. That brought in the money to build another vat, and so on."

"It sounds like Zenithar truly blessed you," Aela said. Yet she could not tie that story of prosperity to what she saw when she looked around the simple interior of the Imperial's home. The Agrigento in Ulpia's tale seemed to have nothing in common with the one she resided in.

"He did, until the Nagas came," Ulpia frowned. "They took everything. I used to have a lovely ceramic tea service painted with cranes. Now I just have this old junk."

Ulpia opened the lid of the teapot with a bunched up cloth, and a steady line of steam rose up from it. "That is good," she said absentmindedly, "almost boiling." Lifting the pot from the grill, she laid it aside on the hearth stone. Then she set a chipped infuser into one cup, added tea leaves, and poured hot water within. The Imperial spent a few minutes gently raising and lowering the infuser to swirl the leaves around. Then she did the same with the second cup.

She offered the first cup to Aela, who took a tentative sip of the hot liquid. The Breton found the delicate, slightly sweet taste of the tea to be a wonder on her tastebuds. The Imperial led her to a pair of chairs near the front door, with a small round table between them, all of rattan.

Aela leaned back in her chair with cup in hand and relaxed. "This is lovely," she breathed. The Imperial accidentally brushed against her as she moved to the other chair, gently sliding her fingers through Aela's long brown hair. The other woman's touch felt as inviting as the tea, and Aela wondered if it had truly been by accident?

"So what happened to your parents?" Aela asked, glancing to the single sleeping mat. "I noticed that you live alone."

"My father died ten years ago," Ulpia said. "He was bit by a snake in the forest. By the time they had carried him back to the village, it was too late…"

"I am sorry to hear that," Aela said softly. She had expected as much, and decided not to pry any further.

"My mother…" Ulpia offered. "Well, I never really knew her. She left when I was just a few years old."

"Why?" In spite of her decision not to pry, Aela could not help but to ask. "Did she return to the Imperial City?"

"I don't know," Ulpia sighed. "One night while we were sleeping she just packed her things and left. We woke up in the morning and she was gone. I have no idea why she left, or where she went to."

"That must have been very difficult," Aela said honestly.

"I suppose," Ulpia shrugged. "Like I said, I was so young, I barely even remember her at all. I just grew up…, how I grew up. But what about yourself? How did your family take your being ardhanari?"

"In a word: badly," Aela stared into her cup. "I was born in High Rock, and people like myself are no more welcome there than in Cyrodiil."

"Do you face a lot of trouble because of it?" Ulpia set her cup down on the table between them, and let her hands linger there.

"Sometimes," Aela admitted. She brushed an errant lock of hair from her face, and followed the Imperial by setting her cup down on the table as well. "There always seems to be someone who notices, and cannot live without reminding me how of how wrong it is for me to exist."

"That must be frustrating," Ulpia breathed. Her fingers reached out ever so slightly, and brushed against Aela's. "Some people can be so provincial."

"Well, it is nice to meet someone who is not," Aela let her fingertips gently caress those of the other woman.

Aela's heart was a hammer in her chest, and she had to fight to keep her breath calm and even. Was Ulpia really interested in her, that way? Did she feel that way about the Imperial? It had been so long, she could hardly remember what romance was like.

"Well, I look at you, and I see a woman." Ulpia drew her hand away. "I did not even realize what you are at first. But even after I did, I cannot say it really changed much."

"It changes a lot of things for most people," Aela frowned.

"What about Ungarion?" Ulpia asked innocently. "The two of you are… close, are you not?"

"Ungarion and I?" Aela mused. "He's my best friend. He has been since we met at University."

"So he's..."

"Just a friend," Aela insisted. "Once upon a time we were…, but that was a long time ago. He's not interested in women. And I have never really been interested in men."

"Really?" Ulpia seemed to mull that over for a while, prompting Aela to continue.

"So what about yourself?" the Breton asked. "With all of the men around here, is there someone special?"

"No," Ulpia said, crossing her arms in front of her, "not really."

Aela resisted the urge to lift an eyebrow. Not so much what the Imperial had said, but from what had been left unsaid. Ulpia looked to be nearly thirty, an age which few Imperial women seemed to reach without becoming married. On one hand Ulpia appeared to be almost screaming that she was sapphic. But on the other hand, Aela had been wrong before. She of all people realized that no one was entirely what they appeared to be...