Old Habits Die Hard Part Three, The old dog practices new habits Options

[haute ecole rider]

Here is the first of a third thread for Old Habits Die Hard. I appreciate all of you staying with Julian and I this far, and hope you stick with us to the end!

For those who want to go back to the beginning, here you go:
Old Habits Die Hard Chapters 1 - 7
Old Habits Die Hard Chapters 8 - 13

[haute ecole rider]

@Foxy: Thanks for pointing out that even old women can feel frisky!

@hazmick: Do you happen to have a twin named hazmat? I didn’t realize until you pointed it out how many friendly Argonians are in that segment!

@SubRosa: I chose limbo over Oblivion to differentiate the bliss/oblivion of a drug-induced haze from the insanity that characterizes the plane of Oblivion in TES. I’m glad you liked the way I portrayed Carandial’s reaction at finding Julian so beat up. I’ll take your comment regarding Neen=Zun’s story under consideration, and revisit it at some time soon.

@Acadian: As someone who grew up on stories of Capone’s Chicago (not to mention a couple of cousins of my dad’s who actually ran bootleg for the guy), I know all too well the price such gangsters exact on their neighborhoods. As for Carandial and Julian going for a ride, well, maybe to the nearby Ayleid ruin . . .

@Auggie Doggie: Carandial is one of those NPC’s that just took over my keyboard and started telling me this is how it is. I had no choice but to go along with him. TBH, he is one of my favorite Altmer in TES IV.

@Olen: Julian will have to confront something even bigger than her skooma addiction or her loyalty to Martin. I’m glad you enjoy the way I’ve portrayed Altmer and Argonians so far, I hope to develop the other races as well as I have those two. As for the conflict between her duty to Martin and her innate nature - oh, well . . .

Julian wraps up a couple of loose ends.

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Chapter 14.2 Bearer of Bad News

Ardaline was shy until I showed her the strange plant. “Oh, this is what you were talking about the other night,” she remarked, turning the leaves in her long fingers. She stepped to the window, where the overcast light streamed in, and held it up. Sniffing it, she stroked the soft leaves thoughtfully. “Yes, I've seen them before. Don't really know much about them. I'm not a specialist in plant samples.”

After she handed the plant back to me, she considered the situation for a few moments. “I know someone who does. If you make your way to Skingrad, look up Sinderion. He's one of the foremost authorities on the alchemical properties of plants.” She smiled at me. “Let me know what you find out!”

“Thanks, I will,” I promised Ardaline.

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Ursanne Loche was walking towards the Chapel when she saw me. She stopped and waited for me to catch up to her. As I drew near, her face fell. “Oh no, something’s wrong, I can tell. Tell me what’s happened to Aleron?”

“I’m very sorry, ma’am, he’s dead,” I answered slowly, looking away from the pain in her face.

“When I saw the grave look on your face,” she said quietly, “I knew something bad had happened to him. And,” her voice hardened, pulling my eyes up to her angry expression, “what of that fetcher, Kurdan?”

“Gro-Dragol lives no longer,” I matched her tone. Ursanne took a deep breath, her face sagging into grief.

“Then Aleron’s death has been avenged,” she murmured. “I told him not to gamble, foolish man. But he wouldn’t listen.” She touched my right arm. “Come with me, please. There is something I must give you before you go.”

The old Breton woman led me to her home on the second floor of one of the ramshackle buildings along the north wall. Inside the humble but tidy dwelling, she moved to a chest at the back wall. I limped to the table, and took out the gold I had set aside. Quietly I placed the coins I had collected from Loche and gro-Dragol on the rough wooden surface, along with Loche’s ring and key. Ursanne returned to me with a large book in her hands. Her gaze fell on the coins and ring, then she looked back at me, pale.

“You know the ring,” I said softly to her. “I think your husband would want you to have it. The gold, too.”

“He never had that much gold,” Ursanne eyed the small stack. I shook my head.

“He only had a few drakes,” I told her. “The rest is a donation from gro-Dragol.” I shrugged. “Small consolation for losing your husband, I’m certain, but better than nothing.”

Ursanne looked down at the volume in her hands. The book, its leather cover worn, was nevertheless of good quality. She pushed the book into my hands. “Here, let me give you this,” she muttered. “Aleron told me to use this to bail him out of jail if he ever got into trouble. He - he won’t be needing this anymore,” she fought back the sob in her voice, raising teary eyes to meet mine bravely. “I want you to have it. I won’t take no for an answer. Thank you for all you’ve done.” As I accepted the book, she turned away, her left hand touching the brass pearl ring on the table. The sob escaped her control. “Now, please, I want to be alone.”

Unable to think of something to comfort her in her grief, I turned and limped to the door. Quietly, I let myself out, feeling quite depressed by the woman’s loss.

************************
Thirty minutes later, I found Captain Lerus in the barracks, preparing to head out on her rounds. She spotted me and waved me into her room. As we took the same seats we had used a couple of nights ago, I met her gaze.

“Aleron Loche is dead,” I told her bluntly. Her fine brows drew down in a scowl.

“Explain,” she said icily.

I told her about gro-Dragol’s operation on Fort Grief Island, and how he had lured first Loche, then me out there, for clients to kill. The muscles in her jaw clenched visibly as I described finding Loche there, his request that I go into the Hunter’s Run to find the key. Skimming over my time in the dungeon, I told her how gro-Dragol killed Loche before I could stop him, and that he tried to kill me, as well. I also explained how Neen-zun had become bound to gro-Dragol. When I finished, she leaned back in her chair and regarded me intently.

“Some of my guards report that you came back in very bad shape, Julian,” she said quietly. “Metternach said you were standing outside the skooma den before Carandial found you.”

I closed my eyes and turned my face away. “I was concussed,” I murmured. “The headaches that drove me to skooma in the first place came back.”

“And now?” her voice was just a whisper. I met her gaze.

“They’re gone, thanks to Marz,” I answered. “And to Akatosh. I’m much better now.” Lerus held my gaze, as if judging the truth of my words.

“gro-Dragol did that to you?”

Shaking my head, I held her eyes. “No, gro-Dragol fights like a street bully. Two of the hunters weren’t hard, I just sicced a summoned skeleton on them. Old Bones wore them down for me. But the last one -” I trailed off, seeing again how the big Orc carried his weapon, how he circled me. “He fought like a Legion soldier,” I said finally. “I think he was trained in the Legion, at least.”

Lerus scowled. “A deserter?”

“I don’t know,” I answered. “I didn’t look that closely at him.”

Lerus made her decision. “All right, I’ll send a squad of the Guard over there to collect the bodies. Think Neen-zun will ferry them over?”

“If you pay him better than gro-Dragol did, I’m sure he will,” I answered. “But tell your men to stay out of the Hunter’s Run. There’s a lot of bad traps in there. Not worth dragging bodies of vermin out.”

“We need to identify them, if we can,” Lerus responded, her voice hard. “I’ll warn them to be careful.” She drew a blank parchment and picked up her quill. “What kind of traps are we talking about?”

I held my left hand out for the quill. Surprised, she handed it to me. My left arm on the desk, I sketched out a rough map of the Hunter’s Run, marking the locations of the hunters and the traps. As I drew, Lerus rose and moved to look over my shoulder. Explaining each trap as I marked them, I told her about the hole in the floor with the spikes beneath.

“They can bring boards for that,” she commented. “And healing potions for the gas. But the darts worry me.”

“I got by them by sticking close to the wall,” I said. “And waiting until they stopped to reset. Your men can use the bodies as shields on the way out.”

“Yes, but if that Orc is as big as you say, it will be tough to carry him out past them.”

“No, just take the short cut and drop him over the edge onto the bridge.” I answered, indicating the route on the rough map I had created.

When I put the quill down, she took the parchment from me and studied it. “This is good, Julian. You’ve got a head for mazes.”

“I’m not sure how accurate that is, Captain,” I responded warily. “Remember, I was concussed on the way back, my memory could be off.”

“Thanks, Julian,” Lerus held her right hand out to me. Startled by the unexpected courtesy, I clasped it firmly, matching her pressure.