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]

I am routing for Neira tho, can't help myself, I have a thng for red-head Dunmer ladies lol

Stick around then . She's no one-shot.

I would remove your disclaimer at the top, this chapter is AWESOME !!!!

Well, other peoples enjoyment makes me enjoy it more

Like any student of animal (here I include humans) behavior, I found this vignette of goblin behavior quite fascinating. It kept me reading and I really enjoyed myself. You did well to write this chapter - though it may or may not have anything to do with the plot, it is still an outstanding piece.

Loved it!

I get distracted easy, but I'm glad you liked it!

Imaginative, vivid, and compelling. Scenes like the one you describe are why I continue to read- to see something new and unexpected. The entire ritual, as well as the hierarchical squabbling, come across as fitting what little we know of TES goblins.

Yeah, I thought I might try to...spice the goblins up a little. TES is a pretty rich world, yeah, but its woefully lakcing in some areas. I kinda went with the whole "totem-war" thing that was supposed to be in Oblivion, and ran with it.

Whether it was foul goblin magick, or their cooking
I love this wry humor!

It's almost purely by accident.

Redguard umbrella seller
Coming from a desert, one would not expect to find too many Redguards selling umbrellas...

This site is fun to upload fics to. You never know what the censor will do! Maybe we should make a drinking game....

nits:
she thought with a cat-like smile,He was rather cute.
Two things here. First there is no space after the comma. Second, that ought to be a lowercase he

Hopefully[i], she thought to herself, [i]
You have some errant bbcode here.

I really need to learn to proofread...

Anyway

Here is another chapter. Apologies for the long duration lacking any reading. School has been murder, and Tanahk study takes up no small amount of time. But I like how this chapter came out, I think it gives more insight into Neira, while actually advancing the story for once

News: I'm gonna stop the subtitles for chapters, mostly cause I'm not creative enough to think up good ones

Chapter Seventeen

As the goblin horde disappeared into the forest to bring brutal battle to a rival tribe, Neira faded back into the woods, and moved quickly back to the clearing. As she bounded through the woods, her plan for infiltration slowly began to form.

Alright, so entering the bailey directly would be suicide. Those monsters probably have that gate watched like hawks. She ducked a low-hanging branch that was in her path as she sped back to her campsite. So I’m going to have to go over the walls…Dammit.

She slowed her pace substantially when the trees began to thin out, and then went to an unhurried walk when she finally emerged into the clearing where he gear was leaning up against the tree, from which the horse had broken off its tether. She spat at the ground, still somewhat angry over the horse abandoning her, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to take it into the keep with her.

But I could have used it as a diversion, at least!

Moving over to her pack, she spent the next few minutes rummaging through it, rearranging some things, and removing some all together. Food, clothes, and other non-essentials she ditched, throwing them over her shoulder and onto the snow where, likely, some stray animal would happen along them and consume it. Next, she removed a long length of rope, along with a grappling-hook of cold steel. She set those two items aside.

She then removed her sand-colored cloak, tossing it behind her as well, and pulled a much darker gray one from the back. Draping it over her head, she lifted its mask up over her face, and pulled the hood to cover her head. Then giving the pack another once-over, and removing a cumbersome set of assorted knives, she slung it over her shoulders.

Scooping up the rope and hook, Neira got back to her feet. Checking the curved dagger at her waist to assure herself it was secure, she started walking back into the wood, but this time heading north, deeper in, rather than east back to the road. As she walked, she uncoiled a few feet of the rope, threading it through the ring at the base of the hook until she was able to tie a secure knot. This took several minutes; the width of the rope required her apply a great deal of force to push the head of the rope through the ring, then to pull it through.

After a short period of walking, Neira guessing no more than a half-hour, she made a sharp turn to her right, heading back towards the road. A quarter-hour later, she emerged from the wood and was back onto the mountain road.

Now for the hard part, she groaned inwardly, as she carefully made her way to the walls of Stonekeep.

*

Neira skidded to a halt when she reached the walls of Stonekeep. Above her, the pitted and weathered walls loomed high, enshrouding her in shade. Up above on the battlements, she could hear the clanking of a goblin sentry as it made its rounds about the wall.

Security is pretty tight, Neira thought as she reached down to unhook the rope from her belt, I was sure there would be less goblins!Listening closely until she heard the fainting sound of a goblin sentry moving away from his position above her, Neira strung the rope out. After making sure the hook was firmly attached to the end of the coil, she began to twirl it at her side, building up momentum slowly. Judging the moment to be right, the Dunmer released her hold on the rope and it went soaring up.

The tell-tale clink of the hook latching to the rampart sang like music in Neira’s ear. However, she continued to wait at the bottom after giving the rope a few discreet tugs, to assure herself of its safety. It wasn’t until she was positive that no goblin had heard her hook that she took hold of the rope, and began to gradually make her way, vertically, up the wall.

Although she had to occasionally stop, letting a sentry pass by, she eventually reached the top, and carefully clambered up onto the ramparts. Her being singing with joy at her success, Neira took a moment to raise the rope and up reattach it to her belt.

just in case I need it again, she thought.

Her task completed, she crouched low again, pressing herself up against the crenulated rampart, seeking what minor camouflage she could gain from its shadowed rear, and stared out onto the bailey below her.

To Neira’s mind, squalor was the only word she could use to describe the conditions of the bailey. Apparently, the spacious accommodations of Stonekeep hadn’t been enough for this particular tribe of goblins, and they had taken to building ramshackle hut, and pitching numerous ratty tents in the free space of the bailey. Not only that, but the remains of their meals lay scattered about in haphazard piles, mingling with the dirt and other filth.

The smell, bad enough from the forest west of the citadel, was almost overpowering now that she was inside. Neira was sure now that it was certainly due to their cooking, for no magick could ever foster in a dump such as what was below her in the bailey.

Overcoming her disgust, and nausea, the Dunmer turned her head to seek out the sentries on the walls. Seeing none on her left, where the only path led straight into a decrepit guard tower, she twisted her eyes right, where her gaze settled on a group of sentries, fighting loudly over a piece of moldering bread.

With the monsters distracted, Neira found her way clear on her left. So, still crouching, she snuck towards the portal of the ruined tower. As she entered the shadowed doorway, her eyes took some time to adjust to the shadowed interior of the tower. Round it was, with the only light streaming in being from open doorway behind her, and from numerous arrow slits above. Closing the door behind her, the room was once again plunged into darkness. Gradually, her eyes adjusted to the lack of light, and she could clearly navigate her way.

The room was empty, having nothing but a few shattered boxes in the corner. But, on her right, spiraling down the wall, was a staircase that could take her to the bottom level, and, she thought hopefully, out into bailey so she could access Stonekeep’s great hall. As her foot stepped onto the first stair, however, it gave such a creek that echoed through the tower like a banshee’s scream.

Groaning, Neira stopped her descent to listen for possible pursuit. When it was clear that none of the goblins out on the wall had heard her slip up, the woman continued down their stairs, albeit more carefully this time. Reaching the bottom, she stepped off the lowest step and onto the floor of the tower. Equally dark as the level above, Neira was unable to see much, and was given a terrible shock when a ragged intake of breath echoed in the darkness.

Deftly drawing her dagger, and leaping backwards up the stairs a few steps, Neira awaited the oncoming goblin attack.

But it never came.

Lowering her dagger cautiously, Neira summon what minor magick she knew, and cast a weak light spell that, nonetheless, light the pitch black tower well enough for her to see. With the light floating above her head, she was clearly able to make out the source of the heavy breathing. In front of her a few wait was a collection of broken boxes, barrels, and crates. In one of these barrels, a goblin sat, stuck, and passed out. Its head was slumped down, constricting its neck and causing the rasp in goblins breathing.

Vulnerability. Neira grinned wickedly when she looked at the goblin. So vulnerable…like a little child. Laughing wickedly, she raised her dagger again, and carefully snuck over to the slumbering goblin, her grin growing wider. With flaming eyes shining, she looked down at the monster below her. Reaching out with her blade, Neira stroked the goblin’s cheek like a mother would her child. The goblin, baring its teeth in its sleep, snarled unconsciously at Neira’s tender touch.

Suddenly, the Dunmer narrowed her eyes and brought her dagger up. Then, flashing downward, Neira jammed her blade into the base of the monster’s neck. Its eyes flew open, but it could make no move to defend itself.

“Ahh…” Neira breathed out as she retrieved her dagger from the corpse, “One down, only a thousand more to go.” She laughed shrilly, but catching herself, quickly quieted. She could hear her heart pounding, and felt the blood rushing through her veins. It never felt different to her, killing, it always gave her a rush, a feeling she couldn’t gain elsewhere, not even during lovemaking.

Alma have mercy on me! I need to control myself. Alright, Neira, stop. Stop; think. You just did something stupid. Sighing, the woman retrieved her weapon from the goblin’s neck, and took a handkerchief from a belt-pouch to clean it of the blood. Disposing of the soiled cloth, Neira sheathed her dagger back at her waist and, casting one last look at the now-slain goblin, stepped over to the door that would lead her out into the bailey.

Light flooded into the tower as Neira pulled the door open. However, the shrieking of the hinges was enough to give the woman fright, and she jumped back into the shadows of the tower not touched by the light. She couldn’t hear the loud squabbling going on anymore, and she could only pray that the monsters hadn’t heard her. Her heart fell, then, when she heard the tell-tale snarls and mumbles that passed for goblin-speech getting nearer. To Neira’s ears, the noises issuing from the monster’s throat sounded quite irate, as if very unhappy that the tower was open.

Seconds passed before the goblin stood framed in the doorway, its features blocked by the light at its back. However, Neira, crouched low in the shadows under the stairs right of the doorway, didn’t need to see that this goblin was less that beautiful, for the smell alone was enough to confirm her suspicion that this was the ugliest individual since Boethia made Malacath.

The goblin’s speech became even louder as it entered the doorway, screaming and snarling at the corpse in the barrel that she had made. It took a few steps further in, now stomping its feet and brandishing its club. Such anger that it failed to notice the Dunmer to its right.

Taking advantage of the greenskin’s distraction, Neira moved silently behind it. Although the stench almost overpowered her, she willed herself to reach out, springing up from her position to grasp the goblin’s skinny neck and wrangle it to the ground, all while it tried to scream, and sputtered. It finally stopped squirming after a short time, and its beady eyes glazed over before rolling back in death.

Standing over her kill, the Dunmer couldn’t help but admire her handiwork. If I keep going at this rate, she thought, I’ll have the entire keep cleaned out in no time. Ha! If I did that, those Redguards would probably pardon me! Dragging the corpse into the shadows, she covered it with some debris to hide it from view further, then, her path clear, she once again peeked her head out the door.

This time around, there were no monsters in her way, and it took nothing more than a quick sprint and up some stairs to bring her to the doors of the Great Hall. In far better shape than the tower door, the doors to the Hall made only a small squeak as she pushed them open.

Inside, she wasn’t shocked to see the condition of the Hall, in fact, she was more surprised that it was relatively well-kept, in comparison to the refuse pile the bailey had become. Her feet made squishing noises as she stepped over the rotten floor-rushes, and the dust that pervaded in the air made her noise wrinkle. Up on the walls, ratty, moth-eaten tapestries hung, testaments to a more glorious time when Stonekeep was still under Rihad’s control. Light filtering in through a ceiling window revealed, at the far end of the hall upon the dais, the keep’s broken throne.

Walking up the center of the hall, flanked by old tables, Neira took in the desecrated majesty of the ruined hall. Although she had been there before, her hideout being beneath the keep in the tunnels below, she could never get used to seeing the remains of the Hall; reminding her of fleeting nature of civilization, and unstoppable march of barbarity.

Passing through the hall, and into the kitchen, Neira made her way to the back of the keep, where the remains of a great steel gate lay broken, and the way down into the tunnels that the goblins had once erupted from lay open to her. Grinning, Neira cast a light spell above her head and descended into the dark depths beneath Stonekeep.

This post has been edited by Verlox: Nov 21 2010, 02:59 AM