What can I say? That's not been said already...I can't but agree with the other readers, this is a sheer joy to read and a wonderful piece of work.

I loved that last line the first time I read it, and it still sits so well. Athlain ROCKS!! Awesome Write Treydog!!!!

This post has been edited by mALX: Mar 22 2010, 05:25 PM

The warm feeling from my parting with Lassnr disappeared as soon as I stepped out into the biting wind and swirling snow. Hunching my shoulders against the cold, I trudged to the shaman’s hut and knocked. Korst swung open the door and waved me inside with his free hand- the other held a book, a finger marking his place. Once we were seated before the fire, I told him of my experiences, first noting that Ingmar had not required my assistance. The shaman nodded thoughtfully and replied:

“True. But on the other hand, you did quite a lot for Lassnr and for Tymvaul. Better still, you found a way to limit the malign influence of the Mantle of Woe. And that task was almost left too long.”

My surprise at the angry tone of the final sentence caused me to start, prepared to defend myself, but Korst raised a hand to forestall me and shook his head.

“You see, I knew there was something in Rimhull, and I had some idea of what it was.” He indicated his library with a gesture. “However, until it- possessed- Tymvaul, I believed it was safe where it lay.”
He paused and stared into the hearth for a time and then went on, “And I did not wish to test my own will in close proximity to such a powerful artifact.”

With a keen look at my face, he asked, “How much do you know about shamans- or about Ashlander wise-women?”

I wondered at the seeming change of subject, but nevertheless answered the question as well as I could:

“They maintain the lore and act as the healers for their people. They remember the prophecies and interpret their meanings. There is more, but those are their primary responsibilities.”

Korst nodded and said, “You are correct. But we are also… ‘gate-keepers’ is perhaps the best term. We assist with birth- seeing new life into this world. And we ease the dying- seeing our people into the next world when it is their time. So, frequently, we are in contact with the places where the barrier between is thin- where life and death, sanity and madness- are poised on a razor edge.” He smiled and added drily, “As you might imagine, that can be a rather dangerous place to stand.”

I was still not quite certain where this conversation was going, but it was beginning to sound suspiciously like one of Father’s lectures on “The Dangers of Power.” I struggled to keep my mind from wandering and to maintain an attentive expression. As if sensing my impending boredom, Korst stood suddenly and pushed back the sleeves of his robe. His arms were corded with muscle- and deeply marked by livid scars- some old, some new. He had never gotten those sitting by the fire reading books of poetry.

“Sometimes, Athlain, the dead do not wish to stay dead. And sometimes magic is used with ill intent to bring back those who should have been left in peace. I have felt the claws of the draugr more than once. And I have seen worse evils.”

With a sigh he covered the scars and sat once more.

“Healing is closely akin to necromancy. The use of magicka opens… pathways in the one who wields it. And an artifact like the Mantle of Woe can make use of those pathways for its own purposes, can twist the magicka. The deeper the pathways, the stronger the influence. I admit that I used you- sent you to do that which I dared not. I make no excuses- all I will say in my defense is that it was necessary to protect my people. And, as it turned out, I was right. You succeeded far beyond even my expectations, for which you have my thanks.”

He made a brushing gesture, as if clearing away unpleasant things, and said,

“But now to current matters. Tharsten Heart-Fang has tasked you with completing the Skaal Test of Loyalty and so you should. However, if I might presume to advise you…?”

He lifted a questioning brow and waited for me to say, “Please, go on.”

“The quest Tharsten has set before you is an arduous one, and will carry you over most of the island.” He reached to a shelf and removed a rolled piece of hide. “This is a map showing the locations of the standing stones. But before you begin, it might be well for you to see to any unfinished business. For example, you might want to return to the fort and let them know that the “barbarous Nords” had nothing to do with the disappearance of your Captain- and that neither did they kill nor eat you.”

He surveyed me with a piercing look and added, “And you should perhaps conclude any other dealings you may have at the fort- or the new mining colony.”

I started in my seat- what could he know of Carnius Magius- or of my skooma problem?

And then I recalled something else about wise-women- and shamans. They were seekers of truth and keepers of secrets.

You're caught up!!!!!! Just one more to go!!!! Yeah !!!!!

This post has been edited by mALX: Mar 23 2010, 04:55 PM

Once again, I liked the reasoning behind why Korst did not go after the mantle of woe himself. Just as Gandalf dared not even touch a certain ring, it stands the test of critical thinking.

I am also wondering if we are going to see Ingmar again, perhaps out in the woods? Or if you decided to gloss over that part of the game for the sake of brevity? I suppose we shall see...

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Mar 25 2010, 11:49 PM

And EYE have caught up, too, Trey, and I have even forgive you for bloodying my moon....

Just kidding. MORE, more!!!

There seemed to be little more to say- Korst’s advice was good, especially the part about letting Gaea Artoria know that I still lived. But as I made to rise, the shaman stopped me, saying,

“There is no need to rush off without some sort of a plan. Although you must finish the entire Test before Heart-Fang will speak what he knows, each part can be completed in its own time.”

He gestured for me to unroll the map showing the locations of the standing stones, and leaned over it, pointing to two on the southern end of the island.

“Look you, the Sun Stone is near to your fort, and the Earth Stone only a bit north and west of the place where your Imperial brethren dig at the bones of Nirn itself. You must visit each Stone, but the order in which you do so does not matter. The Test of Loyalty is hard enough; careful planning will save you many a step.”

He paused then and looked at me seriously.

“One thing more- I would give you my blessing, if you will have it.”

Though I was still not terribly religious, I knew that only a fool refused help that was freely given. So I nodded my assent.

Korst Wind-Eye placed both hands upon my bowed head and intoned:

“All-Father, keep this man cradled in the palm of your hand. Though he carries the visage of an Imperial, the blood of Skyrim is in him, so you will know him as one of yours. He must follow a dangerous path, and no man can see its end. Therefore, guide his steps, strengthen his arm, sharpen his wits, make his eye see truly. By your will, may it be so.”

A long silence followed, and I felt… something… pass through my scalp and down into my body. Whatever it was seemed to fill a void I had not known was there. And I did not fail to notice that statement that I carried the “blood of Skyrim.” I have no more to say about it- some experiences defy description.

Perhaps some of the shaman’s wisdom had passed to me with his blessing- rather than walk from one end of Solstheim to the other, I cast a Divine Intervention spell, which transported me directly to the bailey of Fort Frostmoth. I stood quietly, waiting for the magicka-induced nausea to subside- and to make sure all of my component parts had arrived in their proper places. I took the opportunity to look around the damaged fort.

Some desultory efforts had been made to repair the tumbled walls, but they were more cosmetic than serious. That was not surprising- after the attack, no officer was going to divert enough soldiers from duty to make a real difference in reconstruction Besides that, it would take a company of Legion engineers and their equipment to raise the destroyed walls. Whether that would happen or not was an open question.

Travelers who had visited the mainland said that most of the ancient Imperial forts were long abandoned, serving as lairs for bandits and worse. I wondered if the Empire was truly crumbling beneath my very feet. Then I considered the fact that an officer as junior as I had been sent- alone- to treat with the Skaal, and I feared I knew the answer.

But none of that mattered. Senior Trooper Carbo had taught me about my responsibilities:

“Even if you are the last one left, you are still a member of the Legion; you have the duty until you are relieved- or killed. That goes for every one of us, from a Knight of the Imperial Dragon down to rawest recruit- as long as you wear that uniform, you ARE the Empire, and you have the duty.”

With that thought, I entered the main quarters and located Gaea Artoria. Her lined face lit up at the sight of me, but when she saw that I was alone, it settled back into a frown. She spat a stream of hackle-lo juice into her a cup and said,

“Back again? So what news?”

I assumed the posture of a soldier giving a report- back straight, helmet in the crook of my arm, eyes focused somewhere past Agent Artoria’s left shoulder.

“My mission to the Skaal village was a partial success. I have gained their confidence, and believe that they will provide me with intelligence regarding the whereabouts of Captain Carius and the nature of the- creatures- that took him. However, before they will divulge that information, they require me to complete a- test. That test will take some time and will entail travelling over most of the island.”

She stared at me thoughtfully from beneath furrowed brows, taking in the furs that covered my armor, waiting with an expectant expression. But I knew better than to speak first- I had given my report; what happened now was up to her.

“You sure you haven’t gone native? The uniform isn’t starting to chafe is it? Or maybe some blue-eyed Skyrim sweetie has turned your head?”

I maintained my stance with difficulty, keeping my gaze on the wall behind her. The silence stretched and I finally said,

“With respect, Agent, my ‘sweetie’ is from Vvardenfell. And her eyes are lavender.”

The emphasis on her title was intentional- because I held the same rank. She grunted as if I had struck her, but then sighed and waved me to a chair.

“Dammit, Athlain, sit down and quit acting like a schoolboy reciting a lesson.”

She ran a hand through her iron-gray hair and continued,

“Look, I’m sorry. But it’s more than I can handle, trying to be in charge of a whole fort. That’s a job for a Knight. Do I look like anybody’s idea of a bloody damned Knight? And I don’t think the brass on the mainland is in any hurry to send a replacement. Their attitude seems to be: ‘You had a commander. It’s your bad luck that you misplaced him. Deal with it.’“

“You did fine, getting the Skaal to talk to you. Go on and do their test. They know more about the Cap’n than they’re saying, I can feel it. Get yourself something to eat and rest up; you look like you could use it. Then get back out there and find the Captain.”

I left the room and followed Gaea’s advice, at least as far as getting something to eat. Legion rations were designed to promote stamina and to “keep” for long periods of time. The first requirement was met by being almost impossible to eat if one was not already in top condition, especially as regarded one’s teeth. A standard Legion ration- dried meat, dried fruit, and biscuits that could serve double-duty as deadly projectiles at need. The usual practice in camp was to throw everything into a pot of warm water and let it soak for a while. That could include the biscuits, unless they were to be used as shot for the slingers. As I gulped my “camp stew,” I thought longingly of the fresh bread- and honey!- I had feasted upon at the Skaal village.

Thoughts of the Skaal inevitably reminded me of the Test of Loyalty. Korst had warned me that I should plan carefully; and I knew he was talking about more than just the order in which I visited the standing stones. I considered the tasks before me: find Louis Beauchamp’s airship- and the amulet he desired; deal once and for all with Carnius Magius; complete the Skaal test; find the Captain. And somewhere in there, find Athynae and make sure she never left me again, if I could. In the furtherance of that last, I wrote a letter to the wisest person I knew.

Here Ends Chapter 10

This post has been edited by treydog: Mar 26 2010, 02:43 PM

Woo Hoo! Awesome Chapter!!! I couldn't guess who the smartest person was, and was very surprised, lol. Great inner dialogue on Athlain throughout!

This gave me a chuckle:
You had a commander. It’s your bad luck that you misplaced him.

Yet in spite of the mirth, you did get it across that things are not what they used to be in the Imperial Legion. Understaffed, poorly led, allowing the infrastructure to fall apart, etc... You conjure up images in my mind of the Roman Empire in the 3rd and 4th Centuries.


This is hardtack alright:
That could include the biscuits, unless they were to be used as shot for the slingers.

It looks like you did your research on it. One thing U.S. Civil War soldiers did with hardtack was to put in their coffee. The weevils would float to the top (so they could sweep them off) and the hot liquid would supposedly soften the biscuit up.

I love the back and forth between Athlain and Gaea Artoria. I feel for her, thrust into the burden of command without the faintest idea of what to do or how to do it. It seems that all that she can do is sit around and wait for reports from the only person in the whole fort who seems to know what he’s about, Athlain. The fact that they share the same rank can’t sit well with her.

To quote an old Army (U.S.) song-

"Oh the biscuits in the Army, they say they're mighty fine,
One fell off the table and killed a pal of mine."

I absolutely agree on the suitability of both historical and present day army food for projectile ammunition.

grumblemumble.glacierspeed...grumble... get on with it!
Loved it Trey!

@MALX- I did not think I had revealed who the "wisest person" is? (Which is about to be remedied.) I always appreciate your continued reading.

@SubRosa- Oh yes. Army food. Almost certainly designed to give the troops something to complain about. "Canned bread?! From 1952?!!!" And the description of hardtack is very much based on the American Civil War (and my reading of Forester, as well). The state of the Legion- I wanted to bring in a small Oblivion connection- as much to show that Athlain's vision of Cyrodiil is far different from the reality as anything else.

@Destri- Again, examining the "command structure" (or lack of same) at Fort Frostmoth seemed important- and something the game rather ignores. Seemed important to explicitly talk about what might happen to a garrison of, ah- less-than-dedicated- soldiers when their commander goes missing.

@D. Foxy- Belated welcome and well-met. (Whispers to moderators- "Hide the liquor. The women are on their own.")

@Remko- Your wish is my (glacial) command-

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




A letter posted from Fort Frostmoth, Solstheim to Indarys Manor, Vvardenfell (selected portions):

Mother:

You are always in my thoughts …..

Some things happened which I cannot commit to paper….someone took a hand, and found me, and healed me. I am speaking, of course, of Athynae.

Yes, she was here, and for all too brief a time, we travelled together.

…she returned from Ebonheart, and …disappeared soon after, leaving a note that raised more questions than it answered.

…she inquired about marriage contracts….

…tell Athynae that, as far as I am concerned, we are “betrothed,” just as she told Svenja. Tell her that I miss her. And that I love her.


Selected notes on the Raven Rock enterprise and the East Empire Company. Prepared by Athynae Sarethi and preserved in the Indarys Manor archives:

…clear that Carnius Magius is more interested in his own immediate profit, rather than the colony’s future. You should work with Falco Galenus, who has proven trustworthy.

…Magius is dangerous! He has previously hired- and “disposed of” mercenaries and paid killers.

If it becomes clear he has been thwarted, Magius may use a multi-layered trap. The exact nature of the trap is unclear, but seems to involve magicka of some sort. He is also an expert with blunt weapons.


A note posted from Fort Frostmoth, Solstheim to Louis Beauchamp, Ald Skar Inn, Ald’ruhn:

Success.

That's IT????

*goes hunting for rest of post*

A bit like that interlude then. Excellent stuff, but you already know I love it and want to know what happens next.



I love the occasional brilliant one liners you put in and this is mst certainly one.

I can't see anything to criticise, except that I need more.

There is one line that stands out to me above all the others. Being a chick, it will probably come as not surprise.
…tell Athynae that, as far as I am concerned, we are “betrothed,” just as she told Svenja. Tell her that I miss her. And that I love her.

The entire post was worth reading just for that.

Thanks, everyone. I hope to be somewhat more productive in the weeks to come. We will see....


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



In Ald’ruhn, on Vvardenfell, on a day near the end of First Seed, a solitary figure made her way through the village to the great Emperor crab shell known as Skar, and entered. Once inside, her quick, confident step carried her across the walkways to Sarethi Manor. She did not pause to knock, but entered as one long familiar with the home of the head of Great House Redoran. As the door swung open, a wisp of reddish hair escaped from beneath the hood of her cloak.

Reviewing the tasks before me, I tried to decide which I should take up first. My heart said I should drop everything and search for Athynae, but I had already done what I could in that regard. And I knew that she was enough of a Redoran that she would not look kindly upon me if I abandoned responsibility for personal reasons. That left the East Empire Company or Louis Beauchamp.

Carnius’ office was nearby, above the Imperial Cult shrine, but I was not certain that I could face the man without doing my best to kill him. Murdering an official of the EEC, especially one who was obviously well-connected, did not strike me as the most prudent option, no matter how satisfying it might be. Satisfaction would be cold comfort in the Imperial Prison- or, more likely, on the gallows.

Once again, it was Athynae who came to my aid, for in her last letter she had recommended that I trust Falco Galenus, the colony manager at Raven Rock. When someone with a temper as fiery as hers suggested taking the wiser path, it was well to listen. As to the missing airship, I would soon be quartering the island to find the standing stones, and could perhaps locate the Dwemer craft during that search. So, it appeared that I would be going to Raven Rock.

As I sorted through my gear, trying to decide what to leave and what to take, Saenus approached me.

“Don’t mind Gaea. She’s trying as best she can with very little help. You know what a hard time Captain Carius had leading this bunch of odds and sods, and he was trained for it. The only good thing about the attack was that it stopped us from feeling sorry for ourselves and made us work together.”

He paused and looked at what I was doing. A frown creased his brow and he asked,

“Are you taking off again? Ah…, sir?”

Those last words caused me to swallow the curt response that had sprung to my lips. Instead, I treated the young trooper to a rather wan smile and said,

“You don’t have to call me ‘sir.’ And yes, I have to go to Raven Rock- my business with the Company needs to be finished. I’m hoping I can work with Falco, and leave Carnius to go to…. .”

When he heard that I had no intention of seeing the corrupt EEC factor, Saenus’ expression cleared.

“Well. That’s all right, then. You know, they finished a boat landing at the colony several weeks ago. Old Basks-in-the-Sun can take you right to it- no more having to fight your way through the wilderness.”

The news caused mixed feelings- on the one hand, travel by ship would be faster and safer. On the other, I still had vivid memories of my last sea voyage. I would be of little use to anyone if I arrived at Raven Rock worn out from hanging over the side and “feeding the fish.” Still, it might be worth looking into; if things got bad enough, I could always throw myself over the side and swim for shore. Then I would only have to worry about drowning- or freezing- or being eaten by a wolf or a bear.

Undaunted, I walked down to the stone pier and approached Basks-in-the-Sun, who still appeared to be nearly frozen. With a smile, I rummaged around in my gear and presented him with a furry bundle, saying,

“I don’t have boots for you, but these snow-wolf gauntlets should help knock the chill off.”

The Argonian tugged on the gloves, and as their natural magical properties began to manifest, some color returned to his scales. When his teeth had stopped chattering, he rasped,

“A fine gift, indeed. I do not know how I can repay you. Is there any assistance I might give?

I was about to wave away his offer, but then I remembered the dead Argonian I had found, his body perched atop a rock spire near the east coast of the island- and I also remembered the calluses on his hands. Those calluses had looked like the ones most sailors developed from hauling ropes and furling sails. I pulled the sketches I had made from my pack and asked Basks-in-the-Sun, “Does he look familiar?”

“Swims-in-Swells,” he said immediately. “He was a sailor- and perhaps a smuggler; although that could be said of most sailors. The last time I saw him he told me that some rich Breton had hired him to sail on a new kind of ship…. But that was a long time ago. Why do you carry his likeness? Does the Legion want him for something?”

Up until that moment, the dead Argonian had simply been a mystery- a problem to be solved. But now he had a name. And with a name came everything else- a history, a personality, perhaps a family who wondered what had become of him. He was no longer simply a dead body, but a person who had lived and breathed and then died alone in the wilderness. It was becoming increasingly clear to me that knowledge did not always yield happiness, and that every step I took could lead me into a confused tangle of obligation. With a sigh I told Basks-in-the-Sun:

“No, the Legion has no interest in him. I am sorry to say that I found him dead some distance north of here.”

The Argonian shipmaster looked out to sea, his expression impossible for me to read. At last he spoke, still staring into the distance:

“These islands are not good for us, I think. On Vvardenfell, we were slaves, treated like animals. Until Serene and Trey put a stop to it. But the elves still do not care for our presence. And Solstheim- it is so cold that the water turns to stone and the plants are all wrong. I fear sometimes that I will never see Black Marsh again.”

His melancholy was contagious- I found myself wondering whether I would ever be able to go home. And what reception I would find there, if I did. Neither the sky nor the sea appeared likely to provide any answers, so I shouldered my pack and crossed the gangplank onto the ship.

"...Then I would only have to worry about drowning- or freezing- or being eaten by a wolf or a bear."

In view of the watery context, perhaps "half - eaten by a slaughter fish and with a wolf or bear finishing me off for dessert" might be better?

But apart from that, your unique writing voice is delightful, as always.

And I too must confess, at the price of perhaps losing my testosterone badge, that fidelity in lovers is appealing to me, too.

PS I don't think it was fair of you to warn the mods to hide the alcohol that I was on the loose with females around...or wait...did you mean it the other way around?

(By the way, I'm straight edge. I don't touch alcohol or drugs)

He was warning the Mods about the women who may become loose females with the alcohol around. (and the Foxy in hot pursuit)

This post has been edited by mALX: Mar 27 2010, 04:25 PM