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 Fourteen: Down to Business

The square was deserted now except for Ernand and Ravena. The men of Rihad that had come to the bounty hunter’s aid had taken their leave, grumbling in irritation that they had been awoken from their slumbers for nothing. With their leaving, the Ra’Gada’s anger and annoyance with the whole night’s situation exploded on the only target available.


Putting him his arms to up ward away Ravena’s anger, Ernand took a few steps back saying, “Look, I don’t know anything about that woman.”

“You lie!” Ravena yelled furiously, “Where did she go? By Malacath if you don’t tell me…” With her sentence trailing off, that served to heighten the Breton’s fear for his safety. “Where is her hideout? Tell me now!”

“Hey,” a shout rang out from above the pair, “Shut up down there! People are trying to sleep!”

Turning her anger from the Breton, she began to berate the pedestrian in such colorful language that, when she turned back to Ernand, she noticed that the look of fear on his face had been replaced with one of complete, and total, shock.

“Are you done?” Ernand asked in a flat voice, “Or was that just a warm up?” Giving him a sinister glare, Ravena then sighed, her shoulders slumping in defeat. Sympathetic to her distress, the Breton took a few paces towards her. “Look,” he began in a consoling tone, “I would tell you what you wanted to know if I could. Hell, that woman did steal my horse after all. But I just got to Rihad myself.”

Looking up at him, Ravena’s eyes narrowed. “Where are you coming from?” she asked suspiciously.

“Valenwood,” the Breton responded honestly, “I was on a ship for about a week.” With a grin manifesting itself on his face, Ernand continued in a cheery voice. “So, I very well couldn’t have been in league with that woman.”

“But she took a horse that you provided…” Despite her words, doubt had crept into her voice, and she couldn’t help but question Ernand in a more civil tone. Straightening her posture, Ravena regarded Ernand with a steely gaze, asking, “What were you doing out her this late anyway?”

“Me?” Ernand leaned back against the wall of the hostel that the bounty hunter had backed him into to, “I was just watering my horse,” he said pointing to the filled trough of water down on his right, “And then that woman came along and stole it.”

Ravena grunted. “Well, looks like I get to add another crime to her list. Horse-theft is a hanging offense in Hammerfell.” Dropping her hand to the hilt of her sword, Ravena looked up into the night sky and sighed. A cloud had drifted in front of Masser, but Secunda and the stars still shown brightly in the night sky.

“I almost had her,” she said suddenly, “And that damned Jons knew she was here! Damnit, I’ll gut him for this!”

Ernand quirked an eyebrow, asking, “Who is Jons? A friend of yours?”

“Not anymore,” Ravena spat, “He’s the owner of the Crooked Crane.” Seeing his lack of comprehension, Ravena gave a labored sigh and continued. “It’s a popular tavern near the docks. I expected, rightly apparently, that I might be able to get some information about Neira there.”

“Neira?” Ernand cocked his head to the side, “So that’s her name. Sounds elven.”

“Yeah, she’s one of those damned, dangerous Dark Elves. Anyway, Jons just evaded the question when I asked about her. Then, lo and behold, I get attacked in the streets. If that murdering witch hasn’t killed him yet, I sure as hell will!”

Ernand shook his head, giving a slight chuckle, and crossing his hands in front of himself several times. “Let’s not get hasty now, he might have information we need.”

This time it was Ravena’s turn to loaf of bread her eyebrow in question. “’We’? I don’t need your help.”

“True that may be, I want my horse back. Traveling on foot takes too long.”

“So why don’t you just buy another one?” She motioned from his feet to his head, indicating his fine clothes and silver armor, “Honestly, you look like you could just buy another one.”

Ernand exhaled in mild irritation, “I bought that horse in Valenwood. True, I could buy another one here, but horses here in the West are expensive. That steed cost me about nine-hundred septims, and it was as fine a horse as I’ve ever ridden. Nine-hundred here? That would buy me an old nag.”

“Fine, point taken,” the Ra’Gada groaned. “Ok, I know I’ll regret this; you don’t look like you’ve ever hunted a person before. But we can talk about that later. For now, let’s just go beat some information out of Jons, then we’ll talk about how to split the bounty.” Turning on her heel, Ravena left the square with Ernand in tow.

*

The night is always darkest before the dawn. As Ernand and Ravena made their way through the pitch-black streets, the only light being provided by the Breton’s light spell, the stars began to blink out one by one. Masser never did make another appearance that night, and Secunda had joined its elder brother behind the clouds. However, with Ravena navigating the streets by Ernand’s provided light, the pair arrived at the Crooked Crane just as Rihad was entering the twilight hours of dawn.

Not even bothering to check if the door was locked, Ravena leaned into the door, and bringing herself back, slammed her whole body into the portal. Ernand himself winced, casting wary eyes about the scene to assure himself there were no witnesses to this particular crime.

“Was that really necessary,” Ernand asked as he followed the bounty hunter through the busted doorway, almost tripping over the remains of the broken door, “I mean, is not this a crime, as well?”

Ravena turned her head, giving the Breton as fierce glare that sent a chill down his spine. Quietly, she sternly whispered, “He fears that Dark Elf…Jons needs to know to fear me!”

“Ok,” Ernand murmured, “But when we get arrested, I’m going to tell the watch it was all your fault.” Ravena, for her part, gave a snort that passed as a laugh.

The common room was dark, the hearth fire having been allowed to burn down to cinders. Narrowing his eyes, Ernand was able to make out the room clearly enough, and he sighed with relief. They had been lucky enough for no others to be present in the common room; sailors to drunk to even leave the tavern.

“Toss up another one of your spells, Breton,” came the Ra’Gada’s voice through the darkness, “I can’t see a thing in this darkness, and we need to find the stairs.”

With a quick utterance of an incantation of Light from Ernand’s mouth, a softly murmured “pallo valon”, the tavern was lit up with the created orb’s soft, green light. Able to see easily now, the duo found the way up to the next level, a narrow staircase tucked away in the storeroom behind the bar.

As they began to ascend, Ravena stopped suddenly, causing Ernand to stumbled before reaching out to the wall to steady himself. “Why are we stopping?” the Breton asked, “Are you having second thoughts?”

“No. I want you to stay down here and watch the streets. If anyone comes looking in, come get me.”

“Well, with the remains of a door in an empty doorway, I’m sure someone will come looking,” Ernand snorted, “So you better make it quick.”

After saluting Ravena as she continued up the dark staircase, Ernand sighed and turned around to walk back down the stairwell. As he neared the bottom, his magick petered out, forcing him to toss-up another Light spell. Uttering the incantation, a orb of light flew up above his head, hitting the ceiling of the storeroom, where it stayed.

Moving over to the wall opposite the heavy oaken door, the Breton plopped down onto a bench between two large shelves cluttered with jugs of booze, utensils, and old food. If this is Hammerfell’s idea of a popular tavern, I’m glad Skyrim is winning the war up north. Leaning his head back against the hard clay wall, Ernand’s thoughts turned from the seedy tavern to his entire situation.

I set out to find the Fang Lair, and what happens? I get my horse stolen, and now I’m involved in breaking and entering. Me, an upstanding member…[i/] Ernand gave a slight chuckle that held little humor, [i]Former member, of the Elder Council. Damn you, Ria, you just HAD to pull me into this, didn’t you? Sure, no one knows I escaped from Tharn’s little private dungeon, but by recovering pieces of the Balac-Thurm, doesn’t that make me more vulnerable? Like a candle bobbing in the dark; I’ll be visible to his wicked magick. Groaning, Ernand leaned forward, burying his face in his hands. Rubbing the exhaustion and frustration from his eyes, he looked up, cupping his chin in his palms.

Faint light had begun to filter in through the small window near the ceiling on the wall to his left, and his thoughts took another turn. “Has it been one month already,” he said out loud, “One month since I was dropped out of the sky into that damp forest? I wonder if those elves are alright.”

His thoughts got no further due to the sudden bout of cursing he heard come down from the top of the stairs. Like before in the square, it was colorful enough to peel paint off walls.

“Looks like the hunter found her quarry. I wonder how long it will take to make the kill.”

*

“Oh, sweet merciful Stendaar,” screamed Jons when, by the scruff of his nightgown, he was torn from his bed, “How did ye get in here?”

A terrifying grin crossed Ravena’s face as she pulled him closer, her great strength lifting the smaller Ra’Gada off the floor.

“What, weren’t expecting me to come back so early? I told you I’d be back, didn’t I. Or is that you didn’t expect me to come back at all; in fact, you expected me to be found in the morning with a knife in my back!”

“Oh, Ravena,” he blubbered, “I swear I don’t know what ye be talking about!”

“Liar! You knew Neira was here, didn’t you?” She violently shook Jons, and his head violently snapped back and forth, “Didn’t you! Where is she hiding?”

“I swear to ye, on me sweet mother’s grave that I-,” Jon’s didn’t get any further before Ravena flung him down onto the floor with a resounding thud. Out of her grasp now, the barkeep made an attempt to crawl away, but the combined effects of his large form, and frayed nerves only allowed him to move at a snail’s pace. Such was his fear, he was unable to do anything about the well-placed kick to his stomach, knocking the wind out of him, and forcing him flat to the floor.

Fiercely turning him over to face her, Ravena kneeled until she was right in Jons’s face. After staring at him until he started to whimper, Ravena snarled, “Where. Is. She?”

After a few moments of catching his breath, and his mind not working in tandem with his mouth, he managed to squeak, “Chougand. Sh-sh-she has a safe house in Chougand.”

“There,” Ravena said in an almost demonically sweet tone, “Was that so hard?” Getting fully to her feet, Ravena gave him a little tap with her toe, sending him into another fit of weeping. With a savage laugh, the bounty hunter turned on her heel and stalked from the barkeep’s chamber, and back down the stairs into the storeroom.

When she fully descended, she found Ernand still sitting there. “So, did you get what you wanted?”

Ravena grinned and winked, saying with brutal satisfaction, “Did you doubt me? Come on, we better get moving.”

“Where are we headed?” Ernand asked as he stood from the bench, muttering a incantation of dispel, plunging the storeroom into shadows once again.

“Chougand. It’s about an hour’s walk up the shore. A little fishing village. The turd upstairs says Neira has a safe house there. If she does, that Dark Elf is probably gone by now, but it’s a good place to start.”