I wish I had had Julian with me, in my past...

Julian has made a science of taking down the Oblivion gates! Burd is getting better training from her than he ever got in my games, ROFL !!!!! Great write !!!!!

I really like the idea that each person’s “Hell” (or in this case, Oblivion) is individual to an extent- and that eternal torment for a Nord is never-ending cold.



Wouldn’t it, though? As opposed to charging ahead, blocking my shot, getting into trouble, and jostling my sword-arm… grumble, grumble (stupid followers).

Having the scamp trigger a fire-tower was a good way of showing one of the dangers of the Deadlands. In fact, all of Julian’s hard-won lessons are a textbook to anyone entering a Gate.

Even as I felt the tension of the Deadlands twisting inside me, Julian’s calm voice kept it from becoming unbearable. Simply wonderful.

@SubRosa: Actually, it is Bor that experiences cold. We’ll see the differences again in this segment. I found this to be the ideal place to show how Julian has developed her tactics from that Kvatch Gate to now. I used bodkin point to indicate the narrow point as opposed to the broadhead point. If there is another name for the former, I’d appreciate knowing it! Otherwise, I’d stick with bodkin for now.

@Destri: Perhaps turbulent would be better than turbid. I’ll think about it and revisit that. I meant that the atmosphere obscured details, much like a hazy day; objects and the horizon are still visible, but details are not visible.

@Acadian: Heh, heh, I think she kind of liked teaching the youngsters and letting them do the heavy hitting.

@Foxy: Thanks for the compliment! How far in the past are we speaking of?

@mALX: Burd didn’t learn much from me in-game, either!

@treydog: I enjoyed your take on the frustrations we all have concerning TES IV followers’ general IQ level.

Julian continues her lesson on How to Close an Oblivion Gate.

********************
Chapter 16.4 At The Summit

Reaching the sigil chamber, I let the three men through into the rock passage that wound up to the top of the keep. The corridor empty of enemies as usual, I knelt down to catch my breath. Burd lowered his claymore, resting the tip of the blade on the floor, and grounded his knee next to me. The silence of the corridor was deafening after the constant roaring of the column of fire that rose through the heart of the keep.

I felt Burd’s hand grip my shoulder. “Julian,” his battle-roughened voice touched my ear, “are you all right?”

With a quiet cough to clear my throat, I nodded. “Just out of shape, is all,” I remarked. The concerned faces of Bor and Soren hovered in front of me, and I smiled one-sidedly. “After all, I’m not young like these two.” The two guardsmen returned my smile hesitantly, looking at each other.

“Now this part of the keep,” I continued my ongoing lesson in surviving the Deadlands, “is where I usually use my bow. It’s loud, very loud, in there,” I pointed up the passageway where it curved around the dome of the sigillum. “You can use that to cover your approach. It’s also very large inside, so keep your eyes peeled.” Quickly, I described the layout of the sigillum, the ramps up to the balcony, the second set of ramps to the platform at the top. “Usually there’s three daedra there,” I finished, “though once I only found one.”

“Right, there will be three,” Burd repeated. “Ready, boys?” he asked Bor and Soren, who nodded. “Julian?”

After I cast my childhood healing spell, I rose to my feet with little difficulty. “Let’s finish this,” I said. The three men followed me to the two entrances that led into the heart of the sigil keep. Within, I moved to the right, toward the blood-tipped spikes that jutted out of the wall.

I climbed the taloned ramp slowly, scanning the balcony above, arrow notched to Akatosh’s Fury. My feet felt each step before taking my weight, and I kept moving sideways until I was high enough to see two Dremoras patrolling the far side of the balcony. They were hard to see, due to the glare from the sigil fire and the turbid atmosphere within the keep.

The act of raising my bow alerted the three men, who paused on the steps and turned to look. On the balcony, I kept moving to my right to let the others off the ramp onto smoother footing. When they had spotted the two Dremoras, I drew and released the arrow in one movement, taking out the one on the left. My bow went to my back, and my katana flashed into my hand. Above our heads, light flared as the third Dremora, unseen until now, activated a spell at the sound of the arrow striking home.

“Now!” I shouted, running widdershins for the second Dremora, already charging for us with his mace high. I dodged his attack, slicing my katana across his side as I moved past him. My blade slipped beneath his pauldron and bit into flesh. Ahead, a Dremora spellcaster leaped off the leathery ramp, flinging shock beams at me. I stepped aside in time to avoid them, but felt the crackle of their potent energy pass over my mail.

Old Bones swirled into being and I started for the spellcaster as soon as he formed. That was a mistake, for the spellcaster summoned a huge Dremora, easily the biggest one I had ever seen, who demolished my Bones with a fell swoop of its battleaxe. Then that summoned monster turned for me, and the act of dodging his feint slammed me against the wall. I almost lost my footing, stumbling over the rough surface where the ribbed wall met the floor of the balcony. I fall here, I die. As I scrambled along the wall, I searched for the spellcaster. Kill him, and that monster goes away. Kill him, kill him, kill him.

“Julian!” Burd’s voice reached me from beyond the summons, snapping my head around in time to see the hulking Dremora loom above me, his battleaxe swiping horizontally at me. Before I could drop below the weapon’s arc, the curved blade caught me in the side and flung me along the floor. Incredibly enough, Matius’s mail did not give in to the edged weapon, though the pain in my left side sucked the breath out of my lungs. A roll to my left cleared my katana, still clenched in my right hand. I looked up to see the spellcaster standing over me, his expression of victory changing to rage when I made eye contact with him. He brought his hands together as I struggled to my feet, and backed away from me. The broken ribs in my side stabbed as I ran after him. My approach forced him into the wall and I slashed my katana across his abdomen.

The spellcaster snarled as his hands dropped to his belly, bowel loops slipping out past his grasp. Heavy footfalls shaking the balcony floor warned me of the oncoming Dremora. My katana flashed as I stabbed the tip of the blade into the spellcaster’s throat, then rotated my weapon to tear out the soft part. As I whipped the blade around, ready for the Dremora, I saw only sulfurous smoke drifting apart by Burd’s slashing claymore. Our eyes locked over the dissipating spell, then I staggered, lost my balance and fell heavily to the floor.

Burd gave a last glance around, finding no more enemies left standing, then sheathed his claymore. He knelt beside me and grabbed my shoulder. “Julian!” he shouted, for that pillar of fire screamed and howled incessantly, drowning out normal voices. “How bad are you hurt!”

I shoved him away and took the pain in the palm of my left hand, held it, held it, until my knuckles hurt, before releasing the healing magic. My ribs knitted back together, and I was able to take a deep breath. Foamy blood came up on a cough, and I took another breath, testing my lungs. This time, the breathing was easier, the pain diminished.

“Damn, Akatosh!’ I exclaimed. “That was too close!” I noticed the hand Burd held out to me. He easily pulled me back up to my feet. I looked around the balcony, and spotted the two young guardsmen. Bor knelt next to Soren, who lay writhing on the floor. Burd was already starting for them. Running after him, I saw that Soren had scorch markes on his cuirass and down his left arm. That shock spell I ducked!

“Hang in there, Soren!” Bor was shouting, his hands on Soren’s shoulders, trying to keep him from rolling off the balcony.

“Captain!” I shouted. “Get him away from the edge, sir!” Burd was already kneeling next to Bor. Together, the two men managed to drag the flailing Soren towards the wall and relative safety. I fell to my knees next to the injured Redguard and grabbed his face in my hands. Now I could hear him screaming. His eyes were rolled back in his head, and I didn’t like the clammy feel to his skin.

“Soren!” I shouted. “Soren!” I couldn’t break through the agony I knew he had to be feeling. Desperately I slapped him hard across the cheek. Ignoring the stinging in my hand, I watched Soren come back to himself a bit, his black eyes blinking in surprise at me. “I know it hurts!” I leaned back down to him. “But lie still!” This time, I felt his pain, the white fire that ran along every nerve in his body, that squeezed the very blood out of his heart.

“Akatosh!” I hissed. Can you hear me? Feel me? Give me the strength to help this young man. You know I don’t want to lose any more tironii! I closed my eyes, taking Soren’s pain into my left hand. Fighting the suddenly overpowering compulsion to take my hands away from Soren, I sent the last of the healing power I had into the young Redguard. His shaking and gasping stilled under my hands, only now I began shaking myself. Opening my eyes by force, I looked down into the dark gaze of a scared boy. Then Soren blinked, and the man came back. He took a deep, shaky breath, his hands rising to my wrists.

“I’m better, now, ma’am,” he panted, his voice barely audible above the roaring of the sigil fire.

“You certain?” I held his gaze. He nodded, his grip strengthening. My hands dropped away from his face, and I sat back with a groan. “Lie there a moment, get your breath back,” I ordered him. Let me get my breath back, too. As I watched, his face returned to its healthy color, his lips no longer so pallid blue. He closed his eyes, and I looked up at Bor. Both he and Burd looked pale, their noses and cheeks white. Reaching across Soren’s prone body, I touched Bor’s face. Ice cold.

“Let’s get out of here,” I struggled to my feet and sheathed my katana. “You’re getting frostbite, and Soren and I are getting burnt.”

Once the two Nords gained their feet, they reached down and helped Soren up. I led them to the leathered ramp and we slowly walked up to the platform, just beneath the roof of the dome. I pointed out the dark, crackling stone that topped the sigil fire, sparking and shooting bolts of red lightning into the air.

“Stand real close to me,” I said over my shoulder. “I’m not sure how far this extends. I’ve never left anyone alive to follow me through.”

“Shall we hold hands?” Burd shouted. I glanced at his completely serious expression. Then his mouth quirked upwards slightly.

“Won’t be a bad idea,” I answered. I held my right arm back for the three men to grab onto. Once they nodded their readiness at me, I reached for the sigil stone with my left hand and grasped it.

This post has been edited by haute ecole rider: Sep 22 2010, 02:57 AM

Tense, smooth, natural. The way warrior prose should be.

Well done, Rider! There was so much I liked here!

The noise. It cuts right through you and makes your ears (even round ones) tingle. I'm so glad you described it.

The taloned ramp - I love this description.

I almost fell to the floor as well. Wow, this was good!

Healing. I was impressed by your description of how Julian healed her ribs. Then I was amazed to realize that Julian is an empathic healer! How very precious that makes her willingness to heal others.

Holding hands. I see Julian will never forget the one soul left behind in that gate at Kvatch. Wise and safe move, Julian. I'm so glad you discussed the 'physical proximity' to the sigil stone when the gate is closed.

Yeah! Julians 'schooling' of the Bruma guard throughout the last two chapters was brilliant, as were your descriptions of the deadlands. Bor has my sympathy here, his idea of hell is freezing cold yet he is stuck being a Bruma guard, poor guy. Haa-Rei is yet to visit the deadlands (I'm about to go on the xbox so he might pay them a visit) and he was hoping that it would definately be as hot as everyone says!

Julian's healing skills keep getting better and better, heal other on target is the next step i think I can't wait to see if they all make it back in one piece!

The entire episode is powerful and heart-pounding. After reading that, I don't know if I will ever again think: "Oh great, another stupid Gate."



Hope for the best; plan for the worst. That way, everybody comes back alive. That's how you survive to become an outstanding captain.



Nothing to say about that one- just wanted to place it there to admire.

The healing- of herself and of Soren- your own experience shines through and adds realism and emotion to these scenes.



I just love the personality you give Burd through those tiny gestures and expressions.

My blade slipped beneath his pauldron and bit into flesh.
But Oblivion does not have pauldrons! (much to the disappointment of many Morrowind players).

The entire piece flows very smoothly, testament to a perfect pace throughout. You keep it exciting as again you show us the same old endgame to a sigil stone run, only once more through new eyes. Julian shows that she is at the top of her game to be certain. Not only does she live up to what her old form what must have been, but the old dog pulls out her new tricks as well. I do not think the old Julian would have survived that one.

Finally, the icing on the cake is Julian's observation at the end that the actual environment is physically harming them, either from frostbite or burns. An excellent bit of added depth to the Deadlands.


nits:
In the fight with the summons and conjurer, the summons knocks Julian down. Then it seems to vanish as Julian has plenty of time to stand back up, chase down, and kill the conjurer, all while it does nothing. Perhaps you should add in a sentence saying that Burd is engaging it? That brings me to my only other nit. Julian takes on all three dremora while Burd and the others seem to be standing around with their fingers up their english ships. Perhaps you should give them a more active role?

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Sep 21 2010, 09:39 PM

I think you should keep the word ‘turbid’, especially after encountering it again in this chapter. It sounds very ‘Julian’ to me. The point that I was making is that, even though the figures before her had been obscured to the point of being little more than silhouettes, Julian’s aim is still assured and true. That seems like it would be very hard to achieve, especially for one who is not a master with the bow.

Onto this chapter:
What can I say that hasn’t already been said? I had to pause for several minutes after reading this to catch my own breath! The fight with the Dremora was fantastic. I remember a while ago I told you that Julian’s fights seemed too easy. You remedied that in Fort Grief, and it certainly wasn’t the case here! When that battleaxe hit home I almost fell out of my chair. Is there any mithril mixed into that mail of hers?

I caught her praying to Akatosh twice during this chapter. It appears that Martin’s talk with her was taken to heart, and she has accepted the Dragon as her patron.

And someone please teach Soren how to duck!


You have a small repetition here.

I think bringing the noise of the sigil keep up as cover and using a bow was brilliant, the loud twang would be suffocated in the sound of that roaring fire - brilliant !!!!

The idea of making a chain by holding hands - I love that too, when she takes the stone and the chains break away from that floating platform they can pull her back to safety - huge idea !!!

Another great chapter! Julian is def hero material !!!

The part where Julian heals Soren was really, really powerful. That part really stood out for me. I could almost see the surprised look on the poor guy's face after the (highly effective) slap.

@D. Foxy: Warrior prose. Is that like cowboy poetry? All the reading I’ve done of military history (including the battle reports of Little Cloud Top) has paid off, I guess. Thanks for the compliment!

@Acadian: I’m glad that you enjoyed it, and felt that battle with the mage and summoned Dremora. IMHO, this is the event that starts Julian on the path of becoming a Conjurer. Kind of like the arms race - she’ll keep improving her Conjuration skillz so she can summon more and more powerful creatures.

@hazmick: Maybe Haa-Rei can use the last two chapters as a primer on how to survive in the Deadlands!

@trey: If I can get you to stop thinking “Oh, great, another stupid Gate” I’ve done my task! As for Burd, well, in my imagination he’s a lot more fun to interact with than he is in the game. I’ve tried to convey the Burd that inhabits my imagination rather than the in-game Burd. It sounds like I’ve succeeded.

@SubRosa: I think you’re right, the old Julian with her vanilla Legion training and vanilla Legion gear would not have survived this. The new Julian, having been forced to learn how to survive on her own, has enchanted gear and a few spells up her sleeve to even the odds a bit more. I’ve added a couple of sentences to address your nit. I wanted to capture the intensity of the battle and the tunnel vision Julian had in focusing solely on the mage, leaving the other Dremora and the summons to the guardsmen.

@Destri: Maybe I'm odd, but I got the hang of the bow really quickly and was able to adjust and compensate for distance, crappy arrows, etc while still in the tutorial dungeon. I guess it comes from backyard target practice with my dad when I was a kid. He always called me Deadeye because I got better groupings on that paper plate than he did! Matius’s mail is enchanted, and that helped protect Julian so that all she got from that battleaxe was a few broken ribs. It could be that there is mithril mixed in, but I like to think her survival is due largely to gra-Sharob’s skillz. As for praying to Akatosh, well, he has always been her patron during her years in the Legion; but recent experiences have taken this to a whole new level with which she is still coming to terms.

@mALX: Thanks!

@Remko: I’m happy to see that my descriptions of healing still stand out. Those are the parts that come relatively easy for me and are almost boring to write. My problem is to keep them from sounding like dry medical records!

Julian brings her companions safely back to good old Nirn.

****************
Chapter 16.5 Return to Bruma

Our return was anticlimactic. We found ourselves standing in the remains of the Oblivion Gate, breathing the clean, clear mountain air. I smiled in relief at the three men who accompanied me. They released my arm, looking around in wonder. Then shouting and cheering reached us from the barricades.

Bor and Soren looked at Burd, then at me.

“You’re done,” I said hoarsely. “I’m not in charge anymore. Congratulations for a job well done.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Bor responded, his voice equally harsh, swinging his battered sword in front of his face in salute. Soren nodded at me. He still looks shaky.

“Bor, Soren, return to the barracks. You’ve earned the rest of the day off.” Burd ordered, but his frostbitten face was smiling too.

“Sir!” the two men responded before turning and heading back, Bor matching his stride to Soren’s slower pace. Before they reached the barricades, the other young men had swarmed them, hoisting them to their shoulders, cheering. They moved en masse towards the East Gate. Only two men remained by the barricades, watching Burd and I.

“Well, Julian,” the tall Nord turned to look down at me. “It was an honor to serve with you, ma’am. Now that we’ve seen how it’s done, I think we can do it ourselves should any more open.”

“The honor was mine, Captain,” I answered, meeting his gaze. “You’ve been as fine an officer as I’ve ever had in the Legion.” Burd raised his brows at me as he started for the barricades.

“Well, thanks, but you did a lot for our morale in there,” he remarked quietly. “I’ve never seen Bor and Soren so resolute.” He laughed and clapped my shoulder, almost unbalancing me once again. “They didn’t want to be left behind by a little woman! Gods know I didn’t!”

Little? Me? I stood eye to eye with most male Redguards and Argonians. Rather, it’s you that’s tall, sir. I kept those words to myself, but couldn’t hide the smile they triggered.

“You did it, Captain!” Senarel drew up before Burd. “You closed the Oblivion Gate! We thought we’d never see you again!”

“How long were we in there?” Burd asked suddenly, glancing up at the sky. I understood his confusion, for the sun stood only slightly west of its previous position, when we left Nirn.

“I’d say about twenty-four hours or so, sir,” I remarked as Brugels halted beside Senarel, his gaze on me. Together the four of us resumed walking towards the barricades and the East Gate beyond.

“She’s right, sir,” Senarel said. “You’ve been gone twenty-five hours.”

“An entire day!” Burd exclaimed. “No wonder I feel so tired!” He turned back to Senarel. “Set a double watch on the walls. We need to watch in case another one opens. Everyone who stood on the barricades gets the rest of the day off.” He turned to me and winked. “And that includes me, Julian. Why don’t you stay in our barracks? You can rest before climbing that long hill back to Cloud Ruler Temple.” He jerked his chin past the city walls, in the direction of the mountaintop fortress. “They can see the news from there.”

“Actually, sir,” I had not been looking forward to the climb, either. “I have a bed at the Mages Guild. I think I’ll rest up there.”

“All right, then,” the tall Nord nodded as we filtered through the barricades. “Do me a favor, Julian,” he glanced at me as we trudged towards the tall gateway leading into the city. “Stop by the barracks in the morning, after breakfast. I’d like to debrief Bor and Soren in front of the entire Guard, so they can understand what we are in for, and each one of them can close a Gate.” He slid a sidelong glance at me. “You know how young men are, I’d like you to keep them honest.”

Right, no tall tales. “Gladly, Captain,” I answered.

Within the city walls, Burd faltered in his stride to look at me. “Explain something to me,” he said. “Bor said it was cold in there, I felt it too. But Soren kept complaining about the heat, and I can see that both he and you are burned. Why is that?”

“The Deadlands are just that, lands of the dead,” I answered. “As best as I can explain it, the Deadlands are different things to different cultures.” I paused, thinking over my next words. “Captain, what happens to your soul after you die?”

Burd lifted his brows at me. “I never thought much about it,” he commented. “But I was raised on stories of Aetherius and Oblivion, and Oblivion is -” his voice trailed off.

“For Nords from Skyrim, and I believe the Wrothgarian Orcs, too, Oblivion is bitterly cold, cold enough to shatter your very bones,” I filled in. “For other cultures, Oblivion is hot, hotter than the smith’s furnace. We each brought our own versions of Oblivion with us, and that is what the Deadlands gave us.”

Burd suppressed a shudder. “That’s too much for me,” he complained. “But it makes sense in a weird sort of way.” He paused beside the statue of Tiber Septim. “Well, see you in the morning, Julian.”

***********************
I looked up at the gates of Cloud Ruler Temple. They were open again, but I could see two figures up in the watch towers, instead of the usual one. I waved up at them, and they returned my greeting. I entered the gates and started up the long stairway.

My stay at the Mages Guild had been restful. Orania had somehow put a damper on Volanaro and J’skar’s youthful pranks to give me much needed peace and quiet. I had asked Volanaro for a new summon spell stronger than Old Bones. He had gladly complied, teaching me how to call a flame atronach, the voluptuous daedra made of fire. This morning, as I had promised, I headed up to the barracks to listen to Bor and Soren, now recovered from their ordeal, recount their adventure.

Bor had the typical Nordic tendency to exaggerate, but he would glance over at me whenever he seemed to feel the temptation, and had kept his story strictly factual. Captain Burd had said little, only stood at the back of the room with his arms crossed.

The answers the young guards provided to questions flung at them by their colleagues revealed to me just how much they had understood, or failed to understand, the dangers of the Deadlands. From time to time I found myself clarifying the young men’s responses, or adding more information.

The whole process had taken up the entire morning, and when the young Guards had finally filtered out to take up their watches, Captain Burd had invited me to stay for lunch with him and Senarel. I had been all too happy to stoke my ravenous appetite before returning to Cloud Ruler.

“Julian,” Roliand greeted me when I reached the plaza. “Good job on that Gate, ma’am.”

“Oh, it was all Bor and Soren,” I answered. “And Captain Burd’s not too shabby with that big claymore of his.” Shaking my head, I caught the glimmer of a grin on Roliand’s face. “A little slow, but pretty unstoppable once he got going, like most Nords,” I grinned back.

The tall Nord’s grin flashed as he turned and continued his patrol, his chuckles drifting back to me. My smile faded when I recognized Captain Steffan’s slightly more ornate armor walking towards me. Taking a step forward to stop in front of him, I met his blue gaze.

“Captain, sir,” I coughed the nervousness I felt from my voice. “I apologize for the other day.”

The Imperial, himself almost as tall as Roliand, looked down at me, his black brows drawing down over his blue gaze.

“Apologize?” he repeated. “For what, Julian?”

“For overstepping my bounds, sir,” I answered. “I sent Ferrum for Grandmaster Jauffre instead of waiting for your command, sir.”

Steffan rocked back on his heels slightly, raising his eyes to the surrounding mountains. “Oh, that,” he mused. He shook his head, looking back down at me. “You were pilus prior for how long, Julian?”

“Seven years, sir,” I answered.

“The job of a good centurion,” Steffan’s expression remained austere, his blue eyes unwavering, “is to anticipate the needs of his commanding officer. In that moment you speak of, you were being my centurion.” Again he shook his head. “You did not overstep your bounds then, Julian. You were being a good pilus. I appreciated that, though I apparently did a poor job of showing it.” Now his smile flashed white in the shadows of his helm.

“Excuse me, Captain,” my inhalation came slowly against the relief I felt, “I’m still learning my place here in the Blades.”

“If you overstep your bounds,” Steffan’s gaze grew serious again, “believe me, you’ll know.”

“I’d prefer to know before I do so, sir.” I muttered, looking at the flagstones. Captain Steffan clapped my shoulder, not quite as heartily as Burd, but enough to bring my head up again.

“Just be as you were in the Legion, and you’ll be fine, Julian.”

Stepping back to let Captain Steffan continue his rounds, I nodded. “Then that’s just what I will do, sir.” He smiled at me and resumed his walk.

“They didn’t want to be left behind by a little woman! Gods know I didn’t!”
Indeed, the shame would be unbearable to the fragile male psyche!

A nice, restful break from the headlong pace of the last few segments. We have time to take stock of events, and Julian starts to feel more at home as a Blade.

Did I detect a bit of an advance on the part of Burd when he suggested that Julian stay in the barracks? I suspect he had a bed she could sleep in!

WOOO HOOO !!!! Burd wanting Julian to sleep in the barracks? Now we're talkin' !!!!!

Very well done.

Regarding Burd, here is what I got- He likes and respects Julian, and I expect that feeling is mutual. It is completely unclear to me as to whether that could grow into something more personal. Inviting her to the barracks was not a sexual inneuendo. If you have ever been in a guard barracks, that is the last place one would invite a love interest. No, I suspect his motives are much more straightforward, just as he outlined to Julian. She was indeed extremely valuable to have in that debriefing to add her credibility and 'truth-keeping', allowing him to stand back as a captain should. I see him as quite the leader indeed. He realizes the value of training more soldiers who are capable of closing those gates. He cares about his people and recognizes the leadership and wisdom displayed by our Julian.

It is wonderful to see Julian becoming more comfortable with her role helping the guard force as well as being a sister in the Blades.

Things to like:

Well, the whole post, actually. But specifically-

The fact that the other guards actually demonstrate that they are happy the Gate is closed AND that their comrades are back safe.

Rant/ (How hard would it have been to set a 0/1 counter as to whether a Gate near a city is closed and to provide dialogue options for the inhabitants based on the counter?) That would beat the stuffing out of “I saw a mudcrab today.” rant/

The idea of a personal sort of Deadland, dependant on the individual’s beliefs.

Captain Burd. Everything about him speaks of your careful crafting- he is not just “random City guard officer, one each." He earns Julian’s respect, just as she earns his. And he proves himself again when he does not simply walk away from the closed Gate, but makes sure his entire force knows what to expect.

Julian getting in touch with her magical side- a wise choice.

Captain Steffan's wisdom and Julian’s dawning awareness that she is a valued member of a military organization again.

This post has been edited by treydog: Sep 23 2010, 08:21 PM

I know it, it didn't have any innuendo - but lets face it, Julian is beautiful and roaming the country all this time in the company of men - and not getting any action. Of all the people she has met so far, I think Burd should be at the top of the list of candidates for the position.

I personally know for a fact that Hauty can write a love scene without lemons, in perfect taste, etc. - so this isn't saying we saw innuendo in Burd's invitation, it is saying we are hinting to see innuendo in Burd's invitation !!!! WOOOOOOOOT !!!

This post has been edited by mALX: Sep 23 2010, 09:19 PM

At first I was a bit fuzzy about the whole Nord/cold, Redguard/hot Oblivion experience. It seems like it would be just the opposite, especially if what we fear is the unknown and Oblivion is looked upon as the manifestation of the unknown. After all, Nords know what cold feels like, and they have even developed a resistance to it. Redguards spend their whole life in the Alik’r experiencing temperatures that border on the insane. As I thought about it though, I realized that Oblivion isn’t the manifestation of the unknown, and what Julian was saying was that it is because of their familiarity that they would carry those particular concepts of Oblivion beyond those gates with them. Profound stuff when you stop to analyze it (as I have now done to an alarming degree! ). Suffice it to say that I echo Burd’s sentiment:


Julian characteristically deflects all credit onto Bor and Soren when Roliand greets her at the gate to Cloud Ruler. Now, correct me if I am wrong, but to my recollection Soren spent most of his time in the sigil keep trying to see how much lightning he could conduct! Okay, I know that Bor shot two scamps, but I doubt he was of more real use than Paint was in the Deadlands! Don’t worry. Like Julian, I will keep their secret and let them bask in the glory. I’m sure it will make them very popular at Olav’s later.

Oh, and I think you’re going to have to get Julian sexed-up soon if only to keep your devoted readers from chewing on the furniture!

SPEW !!!!! ROFL !!!!!

This post has been edited by mALX: Sep 24 2010, 12:02 AM