Old Habits Die Hard Part Five, New habits? Or just old ones recycled? Options

[haute ecole rider]

It's now time to start a new thread for Julian of Anvil. Now that she returns to her hometown, it's rather appropriate to start a new thread to celebrate!

Thanks to all who have read and posted input on Julian's story.

For those coming in late, if you've got the time, here are links to the previous threads:

Chapters One through Seven
Chapters Eight through Thirteen
Chapters Fourteen through Eighteen
Chapters Nineteen through Twenty-two

I hope you continue to enjoy this story as Julian works toward the inevitable conclusion!

[haute ecole rider]

@Olen: Yes, I wanted to highlight the fact that Caminalda actually fits the Altmer stereotype. If our friend Destri is reading this, he would have picked up on the racism - Redguards are ineffective mages. And why shouldn’t Julian see Pollus again, especially as in game he’s always there!

@TK: That quest only makes sense if it’s the very first thing you do right out of the sewers with no fame points at all.

@ghastley: You raise a good point about what the two battlemages were doing before Julian's arrival at the inn. Hopefully the next segment will address that to your satisfaction.

@SubRosa: The undercover comment you pointed out is something I learned from reading too many spy novels. A famous person attracts more attention than your average Joe Blow. That can be used to advantage, as we will see.

@Acadian: Yes, that Arielle thinks really fast on her feet.

@Cap’n H: Well, Pollus does have an alibi - up until a few days before, he had been with his legion cohort elsewhere, and Julian knows this. The rogue mage has been a problem since the summer. The time line just doesn’t fit.

The one thing that drove me batty about this quest is that damned legionary standing watch next to the dead horse. He always butts in. He always ends up killing Arielle and Roliand. Always. Then I figured out to lure Caminalda off the road into the brush before letting her talk to me. But this is fan fic, so it’s a little different.

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Chapter 23.9: The Rogue Mage

We said little to each other as we gathered in the commons. Other than Jurard, Hanus and myself, only Christophe was present. Sleepily he fed us a cold breakfast of bread, cheese and fruit, along with generous portions of hot klah. We made quick work of his labors and headed out.

The sun gleamed ruby through a misty sky as we stepped through the gate onto the path. I walked in the lead, befitting an escort on the road. The two battlemages trailed behind. All of us scanned the brush and rocks tumbled along the sides of the road, Jurard and Hanus more covertly than I. I kept my right hand on the hilt of Daedra Slayer, ready to draw. In my left I cupped one of Carahil’s frost shield scrolls in my palm.

Reaching the Gold Road, I paused and glanced up and down the way. There were no sign of any one else, not even a skittish deer. Larks sang overhead, their lilting melody punctuated by the rough caw of a raven somewhere in the trees ahead. I turned and walked east. Around us, the light grew brighter and less roseate. The mist drew away, until it covered only the distant sea far to the south.

The sun warmed the night chill out of the air and dried the heavy dew from the foliage lining the cobblestones of the road. Jurard and Hanus slowed their pace until they were several strides behind me. I glanced back once, and they nodded at me, walking shoulder to shoulder like good merchants.

I could see the torn up cobblestones ahead where Pollus and I had dragged the dead horse off the road. A rustling in the forsythia to my left alerted me and I stopped. Daedra Slayer’s blade flickered in the sun as I drew the weapon.

Caminalda appeared from the brush, walking unhurriedly toward me. The strong morning sunlight shone unforgiving on the deep wrinkles in her face, yet her movements were strong and steady, not hesitant and frail as they had been last night. Caminalda’s the rogue? She is certainly not moving like an old woman anymore. I kept my eyes on her face as I lowered the tip of my sword slightly toward the cobblestones.

In the corner of my eye, I saw Jurard and Hanus halt a couple of strides away. I clutched the scroll tighter in my left hand while Caminalda stopped before me. Her gaze moved over me scornfully, then glanced at the pair of disguised battlemages. “I’m afraid your journey ends here, travelers,” her left hand darted toward me. I dodged the green spell she tossed at me and struck her with the flat of Daedra Slayer. Her eyes widened as fire licked along her hip and wrapped around her slender waist.

I backed away and shook out the scroll, lifting it up to read the words on it. “Ha’la su’jat’a!” White energy consumed the scroll and swirled around me just as Caminalda flung a gold-tinged spell at me. I staggered and fell to one knee, Daedra Slayer dragging my right arm down, the weight of the immense sky above pressing me into the hard cobblestones. With tremendous effort that hurt my neck I looked up in time to see her step toward me, triumph on her face as she raised her hand for the killing spell.

A Dremora lord materialized from sulfurous smoke behind her, mace rising high. Footsteps to my left alerted me to the running approach of Jurard, a short sword in hand. Some part of me wondered how she had hidden the weapon beneath her civilian clothing. Caminalda spun to face the Breton battlemage in time to duck the falling mace from the Dremora. Her eyes widened in the realization that she had been entrapped, then she scowled and summoned a flame atronach.

Paralyzed by the weight of being, I could only watch as the two battlemages furiously traded spells with the aged Altmer. In spite of her advanced years, or perhaps because of them, Caminalda proved to be formidable against the two. Still Jurard and Hanus managed to drive her away from me.

A shout drew my attention west just as the burden spell wore off. Clattering plate warned me of a legionary’s approach, and I staggered to my feet. Pollus ran past me and charged Hanus, the nearer of the two battlemages. The Legion sword bounced off Hanus’s magical shields, but the force of the strike staggered the mage. I darted forward and seized Pollus by the pauldron, barely managing to yank him back before he could strike the Imperial again.

“They’re attacking an unarmed woman!” Pollus shouted at me, breaking free of my grip. I ran around to block his advance, locking gazes with him.

“Caminalda’s the rogue mage!” I matched his battle tone, placing my left hand flat on his chestplate and shoving him back. “The others are Mages Guild!”

Pollus stared at me as the magical battle raged furiously beyond. “Are you certain, Julian?”

“Caminalda attacked me,” I stepped forward, trying to increase the distance between Pollus and the mages. “And I’m Mages Guild, too! Carahil sent us!”

The sudden silence behind me drew my head around. Hanus knelt on one knee, blood dripping down his left thigh onto the cobblestones. Jurard was still standing, but the skin on the right side of her face was blue with frost burn, and she was visibly shaking. At her feet, I spotted the blue velvet of Caminalda sprawled motionless in the road.

I turned away from Pollus and moved to Hanus. “Let me see,” I said to him. He grunted when I traced the blood to a parallel set of gashes in his left side, his linen shirt fluttering with every ragged breath he drew. Someone’s clannfear. I placed my hand over the wound and concentrated. Energy passed from me to him, and the gashes closed beneath my fingers.

“Thanks, Julian,” Hanus gasped as he staggered to his feet. I glanced over at Jurard. A quick peek at my magicka indicated I still had enough for another convalescence spell. I moved to her side and gently touched her face. Another surge of the healing energy restored color to her face and stilled her shivering.

Pollus, his weapon sheathed, shook his head. “I’m sorry, sir,” he addressed Hanus. “I thought you were attacking the old lady.”

“That’s all right,” Hanus answered. “Until we knew who the rogue mage was, Julian was the only one we could trust with our mission.” He knelt beside the Altmer’s body. “But Caminalda revealed herself, and things happened too fast for us to explain to you, sir.”

“But Julian did,” Jurard smiled up at me. “And for that, we are grateful. Legionaries are formidable opponents, even without magic!” She nodded respectfully at Pollus.

“I never thought old Caminalda was the rogue mage,” Pollus exclaimed as Hanus searched the body. “She told me she was traveling to Anvil to see a friend.” He glanced from battlemage to battlemage. “How long had you been watching her?”

“Not Caminalda in particular,” Jurard responded. “We’ve been here since before the Gate opened outside Anvil. Hanus and I spent a few weeks searching the surrounding countryside in case the mage was hiding out there between attacks. We found nothing, so earlier in the week we set up here and started observing everyone.” She shook her head. “Not once did Caminalda let on that she could move like this.”

“She may be old,” Hanus remarked. “But she has years of experience behind her. That makes a big difference.”

I turned to Pollus. “Did you follow us, sir?”

He nodded. “I was concerned about you facing that mage on your own, Julian. I’m certain you don’t have that much magicka to go fighting spell-to-spell with a wizard, and you’re unarmored.”

I looked down at my plain linens. “I see, Pollus. To tell the truth, I’m touched by your concern.”

The legionary turned back to Jurard. “Forgive me, ma’am. I didn’t think you would be able to help Julian, that’s why I followed you. I never thought you’d be battlemages yourselves!”

Jurard chuckled. “We certainly don’t look the part, do we?” She nodded at Hanus. “That was the point. Julian was supposed to draw out the mage. Once he - no, she identified herself as our target, it was our job to take over.” She looked down at the body sprawled at her feet. “Though I admit this one did a better job hiding her true nature than we did!”

“She certainly played up the part of the stuck-up Altmer,” I added. “Fitting the stereotype makes it easy for folks to brush her off as just another one of those.”

Hanus searched the Altmer’s pockets. Recovering a small amount of gold, he held them out to me. “Here, take it, treat yourself to something.”

I shook my head. “No, I’ve got plenty more of that back in Anvil. You two did all the work, you’ve earned something nice.”

“We will, then,” Hanus pocketed the coins and returned to his search of the corpse. “Here’s the key to her room. We’ll search it, and give this back to Christophe when we’re done. Hopefully there’ll be something left that we can send along to the families of the victims.”

“Aye, that’ll be a good thing to do,” Pollus agreed gruffly. “And now the Gold Road’s safe again.” He nodded at me.

“And you can go back to your post, Pollus,” I added with a smile. “Report to your captain with all your duties fulfilled.”

Jurard turned to me. “Julian, will you report our success to Carahil? We need to clean this mess up and tie up loose ends. You’ve done well.”

“Of course, I will,” I answered. “I just have to stop by Brina Cross and get an apple from Christophe.”

“An apple?” Jurard’s brows rose.

“A promise I made before I came here.” I smiled at the thought of meeting that white stallion again. Will he still like me?

This post has been edited by haute ecole rider: Feb 22 2011, 04:40 PM