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 Eight: Into the Night

What started off as a gentle march north turned into a hurried flight when Ernand caught a glimpse of torches through the trees. Consumed with terror at being discovered by this war band from Longvale, the Breton upped his pace and sped north as fast as he could without killing himself. But in Valenwood, a simple march is never easy. The canopy of the forest blocked all but a few stray beams of moons light, and the stars were obscured from view. Because of this, Ernand found himself having to take many precautions to avoid tumbling down a cliff or tripping over a fallen tree. With the amount of detours he had to make, it would not have surprised him to discover he had only come two miles in a single hour.

Hearing the hoot of an owl, Ernand froze in fright. Despite his brain telling him it was just a bird, he couldn't help it. With a moment of hesitation, Ernand reached down and drew the curved Bosmeri sword from its scabbard. Just to be on the safe side, he thought as he brandished the blade. Casting a glance over his shoulder to be sure he was not being followed, Ernand continued on his way. Straining his eyes, the councilor picked his way through the undergrowth. He didn't move far, however, until his foot was caught on a root and he went crashing to the ground with a loud thud. "By Kynareth," he muttered, "How these damn elves move in this land amazes me!" With an exasperated sigh, he rolled over onto his back and then into a sitting position.

"That's it. I've had enough!" Flicking his sword out in front of him, Ernand brought up his other hand and put it to the blade. Drawing from his magicka, the councilor whispered, "Toukokuu kynttilä hohde," His hand began to shine. After a few seconds, the shine transferred from his hand to blade until he was holding a shimmering sword. With a satisfied smirk, Ernand thought, Light is truly the most useful spell of all time. Brandishing the shining weapon like a torch, he was now able to clearly make out the area around him. What he saw didn't surprise him at all. Numerous fallen trees were scattered about, making a straight path hard to come by. The ground was strewn with dead leaves, which gave a loud crunching noise whenever they were stepped upon.

Ernand continued on for what seemed like hours until he finally had to halt at the base of a towering tree. He had had to recast the Light spell numerous times on his march, and his magicka reserves were starting to get a bit shallow. However, he was no longer in fear of being rundown by angry elves, so he was grateful for the chance to rest. Flopping down, Ernand leaned back against the tree and shut his eyes in the attempt to find sleep. After what seemed like mere minutes, the traveler was roused from his sleep by the snapping of twigs and leaves. Blinking a few times and rubbing his eyes to chase drowsiness away, Ernand raised his head. He thought he was having a nightmare, because in front of his were three pairs of beady red eyes. Goblins.

The cowards they were, the green-skins didn't immediately try to strike at the Breton. Instead, they stalked around him, flanking him on both sides, and cutting off his only route of escape. In their grubby hands they carried crude weapons caked with blood and grime. In their other hand, they held flaming branches that passed for torches among goblin-kind. Drool seeped from their gaping maws as they snarled and chittered at Ernand and at each other. Ernand, meanwhile, had risen to his feet and readied himself for whatever was coming. Luckily, he had had the foresight to sleep with his sword unsheathed, and it was already gleaming in the firelight.

As the goblins then began to advance of him, Ernand took his left hand and pointed it at the creature on that side. "Ampua Keihästää, hehkuttaa," he whispered, and a bolt of flame erupted from his hand, engulfing the goblin in fire. Terrified, the pitiful green-skin fell to the ground and began rolling in an attempt to extinguish the flames. At the sight of their writhing companion, the other two goblins flung themselves at Ernand. With a new path opened, Ernand rolled to his left, narrowly dodging the weapon of the goblin that was in front of him. Deciding to go on the attack, he stepped forward once and lashed out with his blade, the blow connecting with meaty goblin face. Howling in pain and rage, the goblin flung itself and Ernand, only to be skewered on the Breton's weapon.

Wrenching his sword from the dead goblin, Ernand failed to see the blow that connected with his head. He was fortunate that goblins weren't known for their great strength, or else his skull could have caved in. He was lucky to escape contact with the creature's weapon with only a welt, headache, and a slight ringing in his ear. Goblins are never ones for waiting, and it quickly pressed its attack, landing blows all along the councilor's body. Stumbling backwards under the assault, Ernand spread his legs out and let his enemy hit him one more time. Absorbing the blow along his armored torso, he struck with the pommel of his sword onto the goblin's head. The shock was enough to make the goblin hesitate, and in that moment Ernand ended its life with a cross-slash at the base of its neck.

Thinking the battle won, Ernand lowered his sword and surveyed the scene. This proved a mistake when he was jumped from behind. Rolling over, Ernand came face to face with the goblin he had set on fire. Its charred skin oozed blood, but it was still very much alive, and very angry. The pair kicked and snarled at each other until Ernand was able to get a hand free. Latching onto the creature's face, Ernand yelled, "Palava antaa, hehkuttaa!" Ernand's hand erupted it flames, engulfing the goblin's face in fire. Its squeals of pain were cut off when Ernand increased the intensity of the spell, burning away goblin-flesh to expose the bone underneath. Dead, the green-skin fell, and the Breton stood, victorious.

*

Scooping up his fallen sword, Ernand took the chance to investigate his dead adversaries. Kneeling before one, he raised its arms. Spindly. Hardly any muscle on this thing. Wild, perhaps? Taking up its fallen weapon, he looked it over. It was nothing more than a femur of some animal. While he knew that all goblins were savage, he did expect High Elves to at least outfit their slaves with acceptable weaponry. Question is, what are these goblins doing out in the middle of the forest at night? Hunting? No, goblins are day-dwellers. Fleeing, maybe? A large band of elves comes into my territory and I would certainly turn-tale and run.

"Hmph, guess they saw me as an easy meal." Dropping the bone weapon, and kicking the goblin's corpse to make sure it was dead, Ernand sheathed his weapon. Putting his hand to his head, he muttered, "korjaus," and a wave of Restoration magick soothed his aching head. It managed to stop the pain, but the ringing in his ears still persisted. "I'm gonna have to find a healer eventually." Kicking a goblin one more time, Ernand decided not to stick around and was quickly on his way again.

Hours passed, and soon small beams of light were shooting through the canopy above. Day was on its way. Ernand breathed optimism as surely as fished breathed water. Taking the light as a good sign, Ernand began to ascend up a hill. The forest grew thinner as he neared the peak, and when he got their, he was able to look with an unobstructed view of the area. He was heartened, then, by the sight of civilization. Below him, maybe five miles, were a collection of numerous tents and small buildings. Smoke rose towards the sky from these, indicating this was habited.

Let’s see. If Longvale is to the south this must be.... Ernand scratched his head a few times, wincing when he crossed over the bump on his head. "Black Park," he whispered. Thanking Julianos for his tutors’ lessons in geography, he began his descent of the hill, and the short march to the hamlet of Black Park.


This post has been edited by Verlox: Jun 2 2010, 04:00 AM