Yes indeed, good good Doggie! Wonderful to have another brilliant update here! Now I second seerauna here, does really Athlain need more complications? Well as usual the issues are drawn to him like they are magnetic...

He'll be fine I'm sure, but I hope he considers to get some help from his beloved ones.....

Anyway I'm happy to see this continued, Athlain has a special spot in my heart!

Over the next couple of days, I made my preparations, ensuring that my equipment was in good repair and that I had the necessary supplies. I wanted everything in place so that I could move quickly once I solved the problem of weapons smuggling- and whatever task Carnius Magius gave me. I would be venturing into the wilderness of Solstheim and might be gone for some time. In fact, it was possible that I would not be coming back to Fort Frostmoth at all. In furtherance of my orders from Captain Carius, I asked around about the troopers he had suggested I command in the search for the smugglers. What I heard was encouraging, but still left me with a decision to make- which one would best complement my own skills. And more important, which would be most likely to survive.

Regarding Gaea Artoria, one of the more eloquent troopers said,

“She’s one of the most powerful soldiers here. Never seen her bested in combat, and her skill with weapons is legendary.”

A more typical response was- “Tough fighter. Short temper. She can be a bit thick, but there's no one I'd want more on my side in a fight.”

As for Saenus Lusius, the consensus was- “Smart as they come, that's Lusius. Everyone around here likes him, too. Real easy to talk to. Not the most handy guy with the steel, but he makes up for it in smarts.”

I would have to talk with both of them myself, and evaluate them using the techniques Carbo had tried to teach me. Fort Darius and Gnisis seemed terribly far away, and I realized with some amazement that I was actually homesick for those days when things were so much simpler.

At last there came the moment I had awaited with anticipation and dread- Carnius Magius sent a note demanding my presence. I did not waste any time, but went directly to his office. When I entered, he was in an even worse temper than usual, and grunted a terse greeting.

“Took your time getting here. Perhaps I should reconsider our arrangement.”

The first statement was a lie and the second was a threat- there was no useful response to be made to either, so I remained silent. Seeing that I would not be goaded, Magius moved on. He buried his hands in the stacks of paper that covered his desk and grumbled,

“The Empire floats on a sea of paperwork- or at least the East Empire Company does. Yet the lack of a single blasted sheet can bring everything to a halt.”

He gave me a flat –eyed stare and continued,

“Anyway, you can make yourself useful. It's a menial task, but it needs to be done. I've spent a great deal of money ensuring that supplies are delivered from the mainland, and I'd like you to go make sure everything is in order. The supply ship arrived this morning according to my schedule. Get me a copy of the shipping manifest from Falco, will you? On your way, then.”

He turned his attention back to his papers and I stepped out of the office, more determined than ever to free myself from his grip.

The good news was that it would take me less time than Magius supposed. I quietly congratulated myself on having set a teleportation mark at the colony site, a bit of information which I had neglected to impart to him. I was not certain why I had not told the Company man; it just seemed best to keep him in the dark as much as possible where my activities were concerned.

Once I had reached a deserted hallway, I activated the Recall amulet and was transported to the outskirts of the colony. The growth of Raven Rock had not abated in my absence- new storehouses and additional housing had been completed. Given the amount of money being spent on construction, I could understand why Carnius Magius seemed to be under so much strain. That knowledge did not make me like him any better, but it did provide some insight. As I considered these things, I sought Falco in his usual spot beneath the trees. If the pace of construction was having a negative effect on Magius, Falco seemed to be thriving on it. He gave me a cheery wave and called,

“Athlain! What brings you here? Just looking over our progress- or do you have a task?”

“Actually, Carnius Magius needs the manifest from the last supply ship- it should have arrived in the last day or so.”

Falco scratched his head in puzzlement.

“Shipping manifest? I'd give it to you if I had it, Athlain. But no ship has arrived; it may have something to do with the fact that Carnius never said anything about putting in a dock, so where would a supply ship land? I'm of little help; I've spent all my time making sure the construction proceeds smoothly, so I haven't seen anything. Check with the men; perhaps one of them can tell you more.”

I wondered if Magius had broken his rule against using the drug with which he had enslaved me- his control of the situation appeared to be slipping. But that did not matter. What I needed to do was discover the whereabouts of the ship. To that end, I located Gamin Girith, one of the Dunmeri miners I had escorted to the colony site. When I asked if he had noticed anything unusual in the last couple of days, the elf gave a raspy laugh.

“You mean besides the wolves and bears and other creatures that would like to make a meal out of us?”

He waved a hand in apology and continued,

“Not your fault, Athlain. I took on the job of my own accord; it’s a little late to complain now. As to your question, maybe I did see something, now that you mention it. Night before last, I saw a light off to the northwest. Thought maybe it was a reaver boat, or a raiding party or something, and I wasn't about to go check it out, but maybe it was our supply ship.”

There wasn’t much point in consulting Falco or Magius- either one of them would simply send me to investigate the sighting. That being so, I simply set out on a westward course, planning to reach the coast and then head north in hope of finding something- preferably before something found me.

The wind grew colder as I neared the sea, and snow swirled and blew in my face. I could only hope the inhospitable conditions discouraged the local wildlife as much as they did me. Fortunately, I was able to avoid any unpleasant encounters, and the snow stopped as I began my northward trek. Several miles up the coast I spotted a low shape rising from the rocky shore- it looked like a dismasted ship, driven hard aground and heeled over. Several figures appeared to be gathered on the ground below the wreck, and I wondered if they were members of the crew. But something in their movements made me cautious, and so I stayed under cover as I moved closer. It was well that I did so, for a gust of wind brought me a sudden unpleasant stench- a combination of frozen earth and rotting flesh. The figures’ shambling gait and emaciated form made sense- they were obviously some sort of undead. That suspicion was confirmed moments later, when they somehow sensed my approach and turned toward me with eyes that glowed like coals in the furnaces of Oblivion.

As the foul creatures turned their attention toward me, a rapid succession of thoughts crossed my mind. First, I now knew what had happened to the ship- that should be enough for Falco and Carnius. Second, dealing with the undead was a matter for priests or crusaders, and I was neither. Finally, I had no idea of the exact nature of these necromantic beings, and it was a wise adventurer who did his research beforehand, rather than charging blindly into battle. Pleased with the logic that proved me to be thoughtful rather than frightened, I prepared to activate my Recall amulet. And then I heard the scream.

This post has been edited by treydog: Jan 4 2009, 05:25 PM

I'm loving this. You really draw the reader on, I want more now.

I like the storm just beginging to brew with the East Empire Company too, makes me wander which side Athlain wil take.

Nah, the right side of course.

This post has been edited by Kiln: Jan 9 2009, 11:51 AM

Ufff! A cliffie! You just had to treydoggie, huh? Young Athlain have a knack for getting into trouble, like his dad, no doubt. I remember Trey once stating very clear that he did not like undead thingies, especially not to try to take things from them...hehe. So now let's see how Athlain copes with this situation. I gather he's not more fond of undeads than his dad

When is the next update coming up you think? it's not that I'll press you or anything...oh noes!

Yes, he has definitely inherited his father's feelings about undead- as Trey once said "...they scare me."

I actually have about 2/3 of the next part written. Just need to add another page, run it past my "first reader", and it will be ready to go.

And here it is:

Having found the missing supply ship and discovered that it was beset by undead of a type I had never before seen, I decided that the better part of valor was to retreat and work out a plan- preferably while sitting in front of a warm fire with some mulled wine. Perhaps, if I were fortunate, formulating that plan would take long enough for the undead to go elsewhere. But then I heard someone scream from the direction of the shipwreck. I knew it was not the deep roaring of the undead, nor the sound of the wind in the trees. It was the scream of a human female. And knowing that reduced my choices to one- I had to attack. Just to make things better, the snow had begun again with renewed fury.

There were three opponents that I could see, and possibly others hidden by the blowing snow. The main thing was to keep them from getting behind me, so I edged as close to the icy water of the sea as I could. Undead were often tied in some way to the ground that held their graves, and were therefore reluctant to enter or cross water. And even if that restriction did not apply to these, I could always use a water-walking spell or potion to stay out of their reach. In the meantime, I gripped my mace and shield tightly to combat the fear that roiled my stomach. The creatures I faced were skeletally thin, but rotted leather and fur armor padded their forms. The fleshless skulls were not the usual ivory color of old bone, but seemed more a dark gray that absorbed what little light there was. And then the time for observation was over, for they were upon me. Whatever manner of creatures these were, they fought without weapons, using clawed hands and powerful kicks of their booted feet. Fortunately, they seemed quite unwilling to touch the water, and I used that advantage to hold them off. The icy water swirling about my feet was a reminder that I was not impervious to the cold, either. If my feet became sufficiently numb, I would be easy prey. I rather wished that I had attained my father’s skill with a bow; it would have been much easier to levitate or water-walk and turn these awful constructs into so many smelly pin-cushions. Instead, I spun and blocked and bashed, hammering them down in an efficient but inelegant manner. At last they were defeated, and I was no worse for the encounter. But there remained the mystery of the scream that had attracted my attention. Now, but for the wash of waves and the moan of the wind, there was silence.

No one moved on the deck of the ship, a shattered hulk which appeared to be good only for firewood now. Weapons ready, I moved toward the bow, which was driven deeply into the shore. There I discovered the body of an expensively dressed Bosmer. From the odd angle of his head, it appeared he had been thrown from the ship and had his neck broken when he impacted the shore. I continued my investigation, moving to the north side of the wreck, where I discovered the source of the screams I had heard. A young Imperial woman stood, backed against the planks of the wreck, the body of an undead sprawled before her. Hearing my steps on the sand, she suddenly shouted,

“Get away! Horrid things!”

She held up her hands in a warding gesture and pressed further back against the hull.

Now this was just the sort of situation I had imagined when I joined the Legion- a helpless young woman beset by evil creatures, with the gallant Athlain riding- well… striding… to the rescue. I put away my mace, removed my helm, and executed a low bow.

“Glad to assist you, milady. Athlain Treyson, Agent of the Imperial Legion, at your service.”

She recovered quickly and gave me a measuring look.

“Are they all gone? Have you defeated them? In that case, don’t just stand there; take me away from this awful place.”

As I struggled to keep up with her rapid manner of speaking, the woman picked up a cloth bag and started to walk inland. When I did not immediately follow, she stopped and glared at me, folding her arms and tapping her foot.

“What? I suppose I didn’t introduce myself? Very well. I am Apronia Alfena. Thrilled to meet you, I’m sure. Now can we go?”

I cleverly answered, “Go?”

“Well of course. I mean, you can't just leave me. No one would be that heartless. I'd freeze to death out here! I don't know what I was thinking, hitching a ride on a supply ship in the first place. Who appoints a Wood Elf captain of a ship? I should've known better. And then that horrible crash.... And now they're all dead, and the supplies are ruined, and I just want to get warm. Oh, please take me with you....”

My wits finally came back to me as I remembered Mae and Cai worrying that I would fumble any chance I ever got to rescue an elven princess. Mistress Alfena was not elven, nor did she seem to be a princess, but I was doing a spectacular job of fumbling the rescue. I cleared my throat and responded,

“I will certainly be glad to escort you to Raven Rock or to Fort Frostmoth.”

The not-princess gave me an engaging smile and replied,

“Oh, thank you! There isn't even any food left to survive on - most of the supplies are gone....”

Then she looked at me a bit doubtfully before adding,

“Well, I guess you should just take me to whomever your boss is. I mean, I hope you're not offended that I'm assuming that you're not the boss; it's just that people that tend to be bosses of things don't usually wander around the countryside looking for people to help. They send other people out to do that sort of thing, don't they? Hey, how come we're not going anywhere yet?”

Somehow the stories I had read did not mention the feel of icy water freezing inside your boots, the graveyard stench of the undead corpses strewn on the shore- nor the impatience of rescued damsels. Of course, in a story, I would have had a trusty horse or even a well-insulated carriage in which to whisk her away to a conveniently deserted hunting lodge. What I actually had were my own two feet, which were currently freezing and considering secession from the rest of my body.

I shook off my increasingly fanciful thoughts and told Mistress Alfena:

“Stay close; we’re going to move fast. I intend to avoid trouble if possible, but if it comes to a fight, stay out of the way. I’m a trained soldier, and I don’t need you crowding me.”

She made no response, but simply nodded briefly. We stayed near the shore- partly to avoid the wolves that haunted the forest, but mostly because it was the only way I could be sure of finding Raven Rock again. I was beginning to think we would reach the colony without incident when a great brown bulk rose from behind a pile of rocks and began snorting and snuffling. I reached out a restraining hand toward Mistress Alfena and said,

“Don’t be frightened. It’s just a bear. Probably looking for fish. If we move slowly, it should….”

That was as far as I got- the woman and the bear charged at the same instant, as if they were blood-enemies. With a muttered curse, I drew my mace and ran after the mad-woman. Before I could get to the bear, the damsel I was “guarding” drew a sword from somewhere and made short work of the grizzly. She at least had the good grace not to say anything; instead she cleaned her blade and replaced it in the scabbard hidden beneath her skirt. What I had taken to be a pocket was actually a slit in the fabric designed to allow quick access to a concealed weapon. As for me, I simply slammed my mace back into its loop and shook my head. It seemed as if every woman I met was better with a sword than I. I had a sudden memory of Athynae, practice blade in hand, laughing as she chased me around the training room at Sarethi Manor. The chill wind froze the moisture that came to my eyes, and I shook my head again, this time in regret. I gruffly told Mistress Alfena,

“We’d best get moving- the blood will attract attention.”

This post has been edited by treydog: Jan 11 2009, 02:13 AM

The irony was delicious: he tells her to stay out of the fight, but she finishes it before he even has a chance to engage. If she is that good as a fighter, I wonder why she didn't take on the draugr herself?

Well, she did kill one draugr. Beyond that, I mean, they are undead, and nobody (save for necromancers) likes undead. Even Always-He-Lingers-in-the-Sun (who kills people for a living) generally avoids them.

Yes, it was rather meant to be a commentary on several levels...(not to be too satisfied with my own cleverness or anything).

First, it is about the game's (necessary) NPC-foot-nailed-to-the-floor quests. They can fight, they can move, but they can't leave the spot until you invite them (sort of reverse-vampires, I guess)...

Second, every escorted NPC seems to attack everything in sight, even when the NPC is unarmed and the creature is ignoring them.

Apronia Alfena is a bit of a mysterious girl- she wants to reach Solstheim so badly that she takes a ride on a supply ship (with a Bosmer captain, no less). She is expensively dressed, carries a sword, has (apparently) defeated at least one Draugr. And yet...who is she and what is she doing there? Athlain, despite his recent experiences, is too naive to wonder.

Finally, just couldn't resist making Athlain come off as a bit silly (and throwing him a poignant reminder of Athynae).

Ah yes....that was amusing, I agree on the mystery Apronia....that one is quite som lady..hehe that Pronie! See how Athlain will handle her!

Soo Athynae did beat him back in the "old" days huh? that was most interesting, most interesting indeed!

More please??

The rest of the mercifully brief walk to the colony passed in near-silence. The usually talkative Mistress Alfena kept her thoughts to herself and I too, had little to say. In truth, I was feeling a bit put upon and sorry for myself- but the real difficulty for me was the company of a young woman of Imperial heritage. She reminded me of my sisters and of my mother- and I realized how terribly I missed them. Nevertheless, when we reached the outskirts of Raven Rock, I still felt that it was only right to offer to lead her to Fort Frostmoth, which might be somewhat safer. Mistress Alfena gave me a look which I could not quite interpret and answered:

“Oh, don't be silly. You've already brought me here; where else would we go? I think I've seen quite enough of the woods, thank you, and one can only look at snow and rocks and dirt for so long before one decides she's seen enough to last her the rest of her life.”

When I started to protest, she smiled sadly and patted my hand, saying,

“Of course, I'm desperately trying to politely tell you that I'm not going anywhere else on the island; you do understand that, don't you?”

With that, she turned and walked away, stopping to talk to the miners and laborers, showing a polite interest in everything they pointed out in the new town. I felt an inexplicable sense of loss as I watched her departing figure, then straightened my shoulders and approached Falco. He gave me a wise look and said,

“I’m guessing you don’t have good news? Although it isn’t just anyone who can go into the howling wilderness and bring back a pretty girl….”

“Falco, I am afraid Mistress Alfena is all I brought back- and all that is left of the supply ship. I found it wrecked a ways up the north coast; she was the only survivor. And most of the supplies are ruined, too. There were some peculiar undead swarming around- I don’t think they had anything to do with the wreck, though. Probably just scavengers, attracted by the bodies.”

At each sentence, Falco’s expression turned more and more grave. When I ran out of words, he closed his eyes and leaned against a tree. Without changing his expression or posture, he spoke softly:

“Wrecked? Are you sure? Well, then there's little more that can be done. At least you saved the girl. I told Carnius it was a bad idea to take the lowest bidder, and that this was too important to not take seriously. Well, at least you've solved that mystery, Athlain. Thank you for looking into it; you just need to make sure word gets to Carnius. From your description, it sounds like those creatures you met were draugr. Never heard of them? Well, imagine an angry Nord. Now imagine a dead, angry Nord with a taste for human flesh. Get the picture?”


He opened his eyes and added, “We can get by without the rest of the supplies, but we were expecting some pick axes. If Carnius didn’t forget to order them, they should have been on that ship. And they probably weren’t damaged in the wreck…. Listen, Athlain, I know it’s asking a lot- could you escort a party back to the ship to collect any supplies that can be salvaged and bury the dead? I don’t feel right just leaving them out there for the animals.”

I glanced at the sun to gauge how much of the day was left, then promised to start at first light the next morning. I passed a chilly night wrapped in a blanket in one of the storehouses, and was happy to see the dawn. True to his word, Falco sent a couple of laborers with me, and we reached the nameless hulk without incident. The experienced miners made a quick job of burying the dead captain and crew in the rocky soil while I stood guard. As for the bodies of the draugr, I cut off the heads and threw the corpses onto a bonfire we built some distance down the beach. Although I was not given to strong religious feelings, I did believe that the dead should stay dead, and not get up from their graves to wander about. Finally, we loaded the usable supplies and made a fast journey back to Raven Rock. Falco thanked me for my efforts and gave me a heavy purse of gold. He explained,

“That would have gone to the captain of the ship- but he isn’t likely to complain. And we can’t make money if we can’t mine. If I don’t give it to you, Carnius will just find some way to waste it.”

There seemed to be nothing left to say, so I stepped behind a cluster of boulders and activated the amulet that transported me to the Imperial Cult shrine. Though I heartily despised Magius, it gave me no pleasure to bring him bad news. His reaction was a predictable scream of outrage:

“WHAT? It's gone? This is unacceptable! After the money I spent on this venture.…”

Then he stopped shouting and stared at the wall, as if some answer might be written there. After a long, uncomfortable silence, he turned back to me and spoke briskly,

“ Fine, fine. Another ship will have to be sent for. Well, don't just stand there; the longer I look at you, the longer I have to think about it.”

He then thrust a large flask of his special “tea” into my hands and waved me out the door, growling:

“ Just take this and go away. Come back in a few days.”

I had what I wanted; now all that remained was to discover who was behind the weapon smuggling and begin my exploration of the wilderness.

Great stuff. Looks like things should get interesting soon too...


Excellent line.

Well, I came to Chorrol for something good to read... and I didn't have to look very hard before I found it!

Ok, so it's way past time I had some quality Treydog reading time. Although obviously I'm familiar with you and your works (who isn't?), I don't think I've ever sat down and read a whole story through before. And wow, was I missing a lot. I wish I'd done this years before.

First person narrative is so hard to pull off that I can't believe I've found someone who's done it without a hitch. The problem with first person is that while it gives a unique insight into the object's thoughts, it can often be difficult to stop it getting insular, and shutting out the rest of the world. Well, at least, that's why I've always avoided it... but you didn't seem to have those problems at all! Although we're seeing the world through Athlain's eyes only, there was no part in his narratives that made me feel cut off from everything and everyone else. I love the way you used clever plot devices like the interludes to interject a more omniscient viewpoint and catch a glimpse of what Trey is actually doing about Athlain's disappearance.

Another thing I'd like to mention is realism. I talk about it a lot in my reviews, but that is because it's so important to me, and I find that the best stories always have it in spades. Throughout this whole story, I was subtly aware of the fact that you're an awfully knowledgeable person in many areas, not only ES lore. Little things make such a big difference - for example, mentioning how the humid air of Seyda Neen is detrimental to keeping weapons in good repair; how adventuring is expensive and not always yielding; what ingredients are needed for poisoning, and what for cooking. Another big plus is that while Athlain's goal is to get to Solstheim, that doesn't happen for a long, long time. You can't just start off on an adventure and get from A to B in a matter of days. You need money, and preparation, and provision. The little details add such a lot, and people don't always give them the time they deserve.

I really like your description of Legion life. It reminded me a bit of Jon Snow's induction into the Black Brothers in A Game Of Thrones, or perhaps Arthur Penhaligon's training in Sir Thursday. Have you had any military experience, maybe? Your descriptions are so detailed that they indicate personal experience.

Your interludes are a masterpiece. I want to state right now that I had no idea we were using the same device - I actually have nearly exactly the same thing written myself, saved on my harddrive for a later chapter - an outtake featuring an exchange of letters. I promise I didn't take the idea from you! But your interludes are much more faithful to the real idea of them, which is to take snippets of information and use them to imply what's happening in the greater world. The humour you worked into the letters between Athlain and his mother, and the Imperial Legion Incident Form, were just wonderful. They were a joy to read.

There is a great tenderness, too, to the way you describe first love and the intense feelings that go with it. Athlain and Althynae have a very innocent connection. You can really feel it when he leaves her to return to Gnisis, and in the humour of her parting letter to him. Young love!

Your battle scenes are close and intense. The one that really struck me was Athlain's fight with the Daedroth. Your line, "And then I did what Carbo had taught me to do- I took the pain and I put into a box and I shut the lid." I found it to be very powerful. I also like the fact that you don't glorify battle. It is bloody, tiring, depressing and draining, and Althain'd exploits prove that you cant just kill someone and then forget about it, even if they are on the wrong side of the law.

All in all, I have really enjoyed reading this - demonstrated by the fact that I have just sat for four hours and read the entire thing I'm really looking forward to the next installment. Thanks for sharing!

Such a thorough and thoughtful review deserves a response- and I do love the sound of my own voice (keyboard?)- so... in no particular order-

I had the idea of using the "documentary interludes" long before I actually started the story; in fact, I had written the Seyda Neen handbills, the Legion report, and the East Empire recruiting poster as much as a year before I sat down with the first narrative text. My approach has always been to write whatever I know is going to be in the story immediately, then work out how to get there later. The Legion report is a bit of an homage to Pratchett's Night Watch books.... As far as the device of using letters to provide expository material, I would hardly claim that as my original concept- I know of at least a couple of fiction books that consist entirely of correspondence between the main "characters".

Realism, even in a fantasy setting, is very important to me. I prefer to play characters that have to plan carefully and use skills/resources wisely to survive. Being able to kill anything with one hit gets dull very quickly.... And, if I want people to believe in my characters, I have to provide believable situations....

I have always liked first-person narrative- when it is done right. In my original story, you can definitely see some Raymond Chandler influence. It can be limiting- only one character gets to have a real "voice," but that just means I have to write dialogue that reveals the others.

No personal military background- my dad was a sergeant in WWII, and I have known several folks who served. I borrowed shamelessly from their stories and turns of phrase.

Thank you for your kind words and now let's hope we start seeing The King and I posted here....

After such a thorough comment from another professional writer, what can I say? More than I agree with her...completely

While I had been off at Raven Rock, I had spent some time considering which of the troopers I would recruit for the smuggling investigation. On the one hand, Gaea Artoria was said to be a top-notch fighter- and my own martial skills were still only middling. Having a strong right arm could make the difference. But Saenus Lusius was friendly with most of the garrison, and could probably find answers quickly, and speed was important to me. Besides, it was possible this mission could be accomplished without fighting. I could not control the length of time it would take to find the moon-sugar poisoner, so I needed to save steps anywhere else I could. Therefore I crossed the bailey to the general quarters and asked for Saenus. One of the guards pointed me toward a bunk, where a young trooper was repairing his armor. I took a moment to study him before I approached. What I saw was encouraging. As his name had implied, Saenus was an Imperial, but his red hair hinted at Breton blood. He was not much older than me, and had an open face, with laugh lines around the eyes and mouth. In short, he looked like someone with whom I would get along well.

When I introduced myself, he stood and saluted in a competent but not overly formal fashion. I waved aside the salute and shook his hand. Saenus gave me a grin and explained,

“I find it’s usually best to observe the courtesies when dealing with a new officer. Most of them are friendly enough, but every now and then you get one who seems to think he’s the Dragon himself. So, Captain Carius said you might want to talk to me- what’s the situation?”

“It seems that someone is smuggling weapons out of the fort- probably to sell on Vvardenfell. The captain wants us to find out who it is and put a stop to it.”

Saenus nodded slowly. “Yes, the smuggling ring. Captain Carius mentioned something about that. I would be glad to join you. Though I'm admittedly not the most handy with my blade, I believe I can help.”

I clapped him on the shoulder and said,

“I can’t think of anyone I would rather have along.”

Saenus picked up his weapons and said,

“Excellent! Gaea will have to handle the other work the captain assigned us, but she won’t mind. Of course, if it comes to a fight, she’ll complain about not getting in on it. That trooper surely enjoys cracking heads- I think she must have some Nord in her.”

I motioned him to walk with me, waiting until we were out of earshot of the rest of the guards. Then I said,

“Saenus, I’m new here and don’t know my way around. That’s one reason I chose you. How do you suggest we start?”
Saenus again gave me that engaging grin and clapped his hands enthusiastically.

“We should speak with some of the troopers here at the fort. A motley bunch, to be sure, but some of them are fair soldiers. I've developed quite a rapport with a few, in fact. Why don't we begin by speaking with Zeno Faustus? He's an interesting character- and he works in the Armory.”

Together, we crossed the bailey to the Armory, which was housed in a separate tower and could serve as a strongpoint at need. Of course, on this day, the doors were unlocked and open, allowing air- and soldiers- to move freely through the structure. I entered the Armory itself with Saenus at my heels. Once inside, I spent a moment looking with longing at the bright swords arrayed in racks along the walls. In spite of all of Carbo’s training, I still felt regret that I would never be a swordsman. But I set that dream aside and looked instead at the beefy Imperial who sat scowling at a ledger opened on his desk. He ignored my presence until I ventured,

“You are Zeno Faustus, the Armorer?”

He gave an annoyed grunt and replied, “What is it you want? Unless you’re a new recruit, which we never get at Fort Frostmoth, you should have all the gear the Legion says you need. You won’t get as much as a single arrow from me without an authorization.”

Throughout the surly speech, Zeno never looked up. My response certainly got his attention, though.

“I am glad to hear you say so, since what I want is to find out who is smuggling weapons out of the fort- and where they are taking them.”

The burly armorer slammed his ledger shut, reared up, and fixed me with a glare. Then, noting my rank insignia and, even more, Saenus standing behind me, he deflated and sat back heavily. A few moments passed in silence as he ran a calloused hand over his scalp. Finally, he spoke in a quiet voice:

“I see you're with Lusius, so I figure you must be okay. Listen up. I overheard some of the soldiers talking about a place, the Gandrung Caverns, a bit northeast of the fort. Something about weapons being stashed there. I didn't want to know more than that. Maybe you should check that place out. But if you find them, you'll have to kill them...unless you can find some other arrangement. And one more thing- you didn’t hear it from me.”

I had a feeling Zeno probably knew more than he was saying, but the information he had provided was enough to get on with, so I exited the Armory without comment, beyond a wave to Saenus to follow me. Outside once more, I arched an eyebrow at the young trooper. He understood my unspoken question immediately, and responded:

“I think we have what we need. Zeno wouldn’t give bad information. He’s about as friendly as a grizzly with a hangover, but he won’t lie. If he didn’t want to tell, he’d have just closed up.”

He looked thoughtfully toward the gate. “Gandrung isn’t far from here. It’s a cavern, but the Nords have used it for hundreds of years. Hope you don’t mind getting your feet wet- it’s on a little arm of the sea. Of course, that makes it perfect for smugglers- boats can come right up to the entry.”

I shouldered my pack and started for the gate. If Saenus was curious about the fact that I seemed to be carrying more equipment than was necessary for our assignment, he managed to keep it to himself. The more I learned of the Imperial trooper, the better I liked him. I regretted that we had to meet just as I was preparing to leave Frostmoth, but I was learning that life is seldom fair. With Saenus in the lead we soon found the entry to the cavern. The doorstep showed signs of recent traffic. I waved for silence and carefully set down all my extra gear. Then I leaned close and whispered,

“This is just a job- not a matter of honor. Watch my back, don’t charge ahead, and don’t get yourself overmatched. If we work together, we should be able to handle anything we meet.”

I had half-expected to surprise a sentry near the entry, but we found nothing beyond the overlapping tracks of Legion boots. Perhaps the phrase “bad soldiers” had more than one meaning. The architecture of the man-made sections was noticeably different from the few tombs and caverns I had entered on Vvardenfell. The shoring timbers were massive and built in such a way as to resemble Nordic trilithons. Wood fires burned in stone basins spaced along the passage, giving a smoky, flickering light that threw dancing shadows on the walls. Saenus and I were tense as we walked side by side deeper into the cavern. We stayed silent, communicating with gestures- the penalty for smuggling was death, and we weren’t going to be providing warning. Carbo had been blunt on that point during our first patrol out of Fort Darius-

“These characters know they’re headed for a long drop- they aren’t going to surrender. So if you want to yell, ‘stop, in the name of the Legion,’ or ‘you’re under arrest,’ do it after the fight is over. Because if you announce our presence and get me killed, I promise I will come back and kick your sorry backside.”

After a dozen steps, we encountered our first opponents- a pair of giant rats. Our coordination was good, and the rodents died without giving so much as a squeak. My confidence was buoyed as we turned into a side passage on the left- perhaps the smugglers had abandoned the cavern. If that was the case, we could recover whatever equipment remained and I could get on with my plans. That wishful thinking ended when a figure in Legion armor rounded a corner and immediately attacked with an axe that glittered with malevolent magic.

I'm glad to see this is still going. I like it.

Can't say I really have any comments, its quick moving and flows well and I want more.

Back! Excellent!

Another really enjoyable update to this fine tale.

There's nothing I can say that hasn't already been said. Enjoyable update, hope Athlain doesn't get in too much trouble this time!

Athlain my dear! glad you found a friend to accompany you in your forthcoming task...

I'll keep my fingers crossed, you bet!