A Champion's Journey, The Imperial Simulacrum Options

[Verlox]

Prolouge

Ernand Leoriane was greeted to his first sight of the Imperial City as he, along with his escort, crested over Brena's Hill, giving them an unparalleled view of the expansive rain-forest of the Nibenay Valley. The colossal Whitegold Tower, its silvered spire shimmering in the sun, gave promise to splendor. As a Junior Councilman of the Elder Council, Ernand would soon be enjoying that most marvelous of settlements. But the Imperial City wasn't the only site to behold in the great valley of Nibenay. From his perch atop Brena's Hill, the young Councilman could make out splendid villas of alabaster and limestone that belonged to wealthy nobles and Senior Councilors. The great Lake Rumare and its artery, the River Niben, could also be gazed at.

Sir Renard Liseux, the captain of Ernand's guards, moved his horse alongside his master's. "Your Grace, Chorrol is only another hour's ride from here. Would it please you if we bedded down there for the night?" Looking up, Ernand could clearly discern Masser and Secunda, and a few of the brighter stars. The Sun was only visible as a sliver of light on the western horizon. Although he would have preferred if they continued on their journey, traveling by torch-light if need be, Ernand knew that while his men would follow him, they wouldn't like him very much afterwards.

"Chorrol should be fine, Renard." Ernand could tell Renard was pleased by the grin that spread across his face. Signaling to the men, Renard spurred his horse back into formation around Ernand, and they proceeded to Chorrol. A Colovian town, Chorrol was situated in the Highlands on the border with Hammerfell. Founded in the 2703 year of the First Era by Kantus Jerril, the town's first Count. The city itself was rustic, to Ernand resembling the town in High Rock he was born in. Its timber structures were simple, square buildings with one or two floors. Silver Mining was Chorrol's primary trade, but the sheep and goat trade was always booming.

Twilight came and went by the time Ernand and his guards passed through the gates of Chorrol. A sleepy guard pointed them in the direction of the town's inn. It was fortunate that Chorrol was a very simple town, and that the inn received such a prominent position; right off the square. Passing up through the lane, Ernand couldn't help but admire the massive oak-tree that overshadowed the largest of Chorrol's buildings. Dismounting and hitching his horse, Ernand watched his guards tramp into the taproom. He followed more slowly, taking a seat in a corner. After the bar-wench had brought him his beverage, he was joined by Renard. "This isn't exactly the finest of places, eh, Renard?"

"No, sir, it is not," Renard indulged his master, feeling that a Councilman would think any place is trash, "Reminds me of home though, does it not?"

"Aye, that's true. Kambria bears a strong resemblance to this place. Chorrol is certainly warmer, though!" Both men laughed. "Do you think it will rain tonight," Ernand asked as he took a sip of his craythur, "Those clouds looked rather mean."

Renard tapped his chin with his forefinger in thought. "It could. We did have a light sprinkle last night, so it wouldn't be strange if we got some of the water up here in the Highlands."

"Should I expect a delay in travel?"

Renard grimaced. He knew Ernand wanted to get to the Imperial City so he could begin his career, and live the life of Nibenean luxury. Damn...I would be impatient, too, Renard thought to himself. As an older man, however, Renard could look on luxury as a reward, where as he saw Ernand as wanting the luxury as an entitlement, he was a member of the Elder Council after all. "Ernand," Renard rarely used his master's Imperialized name, preferring the formal 'sir' or, in private, his given name of Lochlainn, "How old are you?"

Ernand raised an eyebrow, but answered. "Seven-and-Twenty. Why?"

"You got your whole life ahead of you. Don't let a little luxury spoil you to the rest of the world."

"What makes you think it will?" Indignant, a hard edge crept into Ernand's voice, "I can assure you, Renard, that a Nibenean lifestyle will not 'spoil' me, as you put it." He stood from his seat abruptly, "I must bid you goodnight, Renard. I expect to leave early tomorrow, so be ready to leave by sunrise." With that, Ernand turned on his toe and left the taproom, leaving Renard sitting alone.

"Of course, Councilor. Your will is my command."

*

His entrance into the Imperial City was even greater that he imagined it would be. At the bridge, Ernand and his escort were met by the other two members of High Rock's councilors. They greeted their new compatriot with much warmth, proclaiming that High Rock was well served by having the scion of the Leoriane as a member of the Elder Council. Ernand in turn acknowledged their greetings with a smile, but had to ask where his benefactor, Ria Silmane, was.

"She had business to do for the Emperor, Ernand. As you know, that traitor, Tharn, was executed some months ago. For a time, the position of Imperial Battle Mage was empty, left vacant by Tharn's death. Emperor Uriel, in his wisdom, had Madame Silmane appointed in his place. We hardly see her anymore; always off doing one thing or another for His Majesty." Ernand nodded that he understood, but inwardly he wished that Ria had been their to see his entrance into the Imperial City.

The councilors escorted Ernand and his guard through the streets, giving them a condensed tour of the Imperial City. With the air crisp and cold, the councilors cut the tour short when they arrived in the Elven Gardens District. They pointed out to him the location of the High Rock Councilor's Manor, and then left the younger man for their own villas in the country-side.

"Unpack our belongings," Ernand told his guards, "I'm going to have a rest." The manor was a small, but comfortable, building of three stories. The lowest floor was a large hall made from receiving guests and dining. The second floor was dedicated to housing the occupant’s personal guard. And the third floor was the Councilor's Chamber. It was here that Ernand found himself after he mounted the stairs.

The chamber was very spacious. A large, four-poster bed was against the wall for sleeping. There were numerous coffers and chests, and their was even a writing desk. It was a object on the desk that first drew Ernand's attention, and he moved to investigate. The object was a small letter written on tan paper. Picking it up, Ernand read--

To his most Esteemed Lordship, Councilor Ernand Leoriane
Greetings,

I apologize in advance for not being able to greet you on your entrance into the city. The Emperor had a very important matter for me to look into, and I was unable to get out of it. I promise that we will soon see each other. If not in private than in the Palace.

Your Friend,
Ria Silmane, Imperial Battle Mage

Dated Seventh of Sun's Dawn, 3E 395

Ernand smiled at Ria's letter and put it back onto the desk. Moving over to a nearby shutter, he flung it open to gaze out over the Imperial City. Things were good.

**

This post has been edited by Verlox: Mar 19 2010, 02:40 AM

[Verlox]

Chapter 5: Lucidity

A large group of bosmer clustered around the returning coterie, eager to catch a glimpse of both the feverish man, and his magnificent treasure. Blocking the mouth of the cave, the band that had picked up Ernand was unable to continue, and they were forced to halt their progress as their compatriots assaulted them with numerous questions.

A bearded elf shouldered his way to the base of the cart, and managed to make himself heard over the voices of the other elves. “Elphiron, why do you bring this man back to our camp? He could be a spy from Longvale,”

“That’s what I said,” Gerrilgor muttered under his breath, “But no one ever listens to me.”

Elphiron raised his hand to forestall further questions, and said evenly, “The thought did cross our minds that he could be a spy. The people of High Rock have a history as spies; Nightblades if you will.” Jumping down from the wagon, he brandished the Ruby Key for the crowd. “But then we found this. Despite the gold-skins have great wealth, doesn’t this seem a bit much in payment for a spy? Also, he is not in a very good condition. I can only imagine what happened upon him in the forest. So we brought him back with us to treat his wounds. If he turns out to be a spy, we can interrogate him once he recovers. If not,” Elphiron shrugged, “I’m sure the Elder will think of suitable repayment.”

“I say hang him now,” the bearded elf called out, “That would solve the issue.”

Gerrilgor cross his arms, saying, more to himself than anyone, “He has a point…” only to find himself the target of a quick swat from Distel atop his head. “What was that for?!”

“You aren’t helping the situation,” Distel hissed. "If they hang him now, we'll never know why he was out there in the woods, or what happened to him."

"Point being what exactly?" When she leveled a burning glare on him, Gerrilgor gave up and threw his hand in the air, "Fine! What do I care?"

Elphiron turned his head away from the crowd to his two partners, "Will you two stop bickering," he whispered fiercely, "I won't have you two fighting over this man's life. There is enough discord among us that we don't need more, especially not over the life of an outsider." Turning back to the crowd, Elphiron began to once again voice his reasons for keeping the breton alive, only to be met with quite a bit of uneasiness. Most people just wanted the entire situation to go away, and not open themselves up to the chance of a spy in their midst. The situation could have gotten out of hand, if it wasn't for the timely call of a loud horn. With it, all the elves assembled dropped to the leafy ground and bowed their heads. For from out of the cave came a contingent of soldiers, each armed and armoured in expensive finery.

From the center of this group of warriors stepped a man clothed in a traditional Valenwood robe, barefoot, staff in hand. His bald head caught the glint of the falling sun, and his jet black eyes showed a great serenity of spirit. His eyes raked over the silent crowd of bowed people, and when he spoke, it was as if he was the only being in the forest.

“I heard yelling. Is something wrong?” When his eyes came to rest on Elphiron, he smiled. “Brother Elphiron,” he moved through the crowd towards the wagon, “It is good to have you back. Tell me, how fares things?”

The bosmer stood from his prone position, but kept his eyes downcast as he spoke to the newcomer. “Things go well enough, Elder Bragor. My companions and I managed to elude patrols from Longvale. However, we found someone in the forest.”

“Oh?” Bragor said, “You found someone? Show me this person.” Elphiron nodded and indicated with his arm to look inside the cart. Curious, Bragor stepped to the base of the wagon and peered inside, looking into the face of a feverish Breton. “By the gods, this man is dying!” Whirling around, he called for his guard, “Bring a stretcher. We need to get this man inside quickly.” Ignoring the shocked crowd, Bragor got up into the cart to look at Ernand’s wounds. He winced when he saw the ugly mark on the man’s head, then swore to himself when a bit of pus seeped out.

It didn’t take long for the Elder’s guards to get back with a stretcher, which the Breton was quickly placed on. With Bragor in tow, they plowed through the assembled elves and disappeared into the darkness of the cave.

**

The councilor's dreams were convoluted. They had no shape or view, consisting solely of flashes of hot color. Throughout them, however, Ernand was fully aware. Pain wracked his whole body, and in his few moments of clarity, he was able to make out the forms of people standing over him, submitting him to annoying prodding, and forcing him to consume noxious concoctions that only thrust him back into fitful slumber. In this most troubling of times, he felt as if the very specter of death was hovering over him; like a hunter, waiting until he prey no longer had the will to fight.

When he finally awoke from his drugged torpor, he wasn't really sure where he was. The chamber was dark and lacked a light source. For a few minutes, Ernand feared that some of his memories had been but dreams, and he was still in that horrible little cell beneath the Imperial City. He shut his eyes, as if it truly made a difference in that sunless room, so tears could not escape. He had failed. He wasn't able to protect Ria and she was dead because of it. Tharn ruled Tamriel at his pleasure, and if things continued on their current course, the continent would ignite from the fires of war.

He was brought out of his pessimistic musings by the sudden intrusion of light in darkness' domain. A flap had been drawn back, letting in the sun's rays. Achingly, Ernand brought his arm up to shield his eyes, despite them being closed. When he finally lowered his arm and opened his eyes, he was able to discern that he was no longer in that damp chamber, but a small furnished cavern. Turning his gaze to the source of light, he was able to make out the forms of two figures. One quite stout, and the other tall and lithe. When he tried to say something, the words coming out as nothing but a croak, the two figures rushed to his side and kneeled next to his pallet.

"Oh, thank Y'ffre, he's awake!" When the figures came into view, Ernand was able to discern that the speaker was the tall one, and a woman on top of that. She had very sharp features that put him in mind of nymphs. When his eyes caught her ears however, he recoiled slightly. Long and pointed. An elf.

The elven woman apparently hadn't noticed Ernand's fright. Producing a flask of water, she lifted it to the breton's lips. "Drink this. It will make you feel better," she coaxed. When the cool liquid passed into Ernand's mouth, his eyes shot open and he greedily gulped as much down as he could until he was coughing. Smiling down at him, she said, "It is good the Elder was able to heal your body."

This elicited a laugh with the woman's partner, the squat fellow whom Ernand would later recognize as the tormenter from his dreams. "Nay, Distel. Was it not I that gave up on this man's life?" Moving his hand's over Ernand's forehead to check for further fever, he continued. "I despaired, and could not go on. It was Distel that healed you, young breton. Staying by your bedside even into the darkest of night and early morning."

"Thank you," Ernand murmurmed with a scratchy voice, "Thank you for healing me." Trying to sit up, Ernand found that although he was no longer at Death's door, he was hardly able-bodied. Crashing back down onto his back, he regarded Distel and Bragor with wary eyes. "May I ask why you kept me alive? Last thing I remember was having a spear pointed at my throat."

"That would be Elphiron. He was the one that found you out in the woods. We thought you might have been a spy."

"A spy?"

But Elder Bragor would have none of that. Waving his hands, he changed the topic of conversation. "You don't have the look of a spy. But I still must wonder how you found yourself out in the forest."

Shaking his head, Ernand replied, "I don't even know where I am, let alone how I ended up here. An odd place for a Shift Gate to drop a person." He could see that the utterance of the Shift Gate had excited Bragor's curiosity. "May I ask what province I am in?"

"Valenwood, near Longvale. But, by Yffre, how did you use a Shift Gate. That is powerful magic, and you don't have the looks of a mage.

Despite his current condition, Ernand was still well enough in his mind that he was smart enough to not blurt out that it was the ghost of Ria Silmane, recently slain by Jagar Tharn, that had made the Shift Gate. As a student of geography, he knew that Longvale was deep in Valenwood, near its center. And while he doubted that these people knew, or even cared, about recent business about the Empire, he was unwilling to put that kind of information in their hands.

"While I am grateful for your care, there are some things best left unsaid." Bragor and Distel seemed content with that answer, and when the elder announced that they had best leave their patient to his rest, both he and Distel stood from his pallet. As they left the cavern, Distel set fire to an exposed root that acted as a torch for the chamber. With one last look over her shoulder at the once again dozing breton, she stepped out into the sun, shutting the flap behind her, leaving Ernand to his dreams.


This post has been edited by Verlox: Jun 2 2010, 03:56 AM