Old Habits Die Hard Part Six, some old habits never die Options

[haute ecole rider]

Hello all, and welcome to the final thread of Old Habits Die Hard. Those of you who are familiar with the Main Quest know that we are fast approaching the end game. Only three more artifacts to obtain, then we can recover the Amulet of Kings and light those Dragonfires and see Martin to the Dragon Throne at last. Right?

For those who are coming late to the party, here are the links to the other five threads:

Chapters 1 − 7: From the Prison to finding the Path of Dawn.
Chapters 8 − 13: From Dagon’s Shrine to Bravil.
Chapters 14 − 18: From Sheogorath’s Shrine to the start of the Grand Tour of Cyrodiil.
Chapters 19 − 22: From Leyawiin to Skingrad.
Chapters 23 − 25: From returning home to Anvil to the final Mages Guild recommendation.

Here in this last thread we will see the Main Quest through to its tragic conclusion. Some questions will be answered, including who is the man Julian loves? Other questions will be raised, including what’s next for Julian? Those of you who have suspected a second story in the making, you are correct.

After a year and a half of writing this story, I am happy to bring this to a close, yet I am sad to bid it adieu. Hopefully I won’t let any and all of you down as we wrap up.

This post has been edited by haute ecole rider: Jun 26 2011, 01:10 AM

[haute ecole rider]

And so we begin Part Six of Old Habits Die Hard. After completing the Grand Tour of Cyrodiil rounding up reinforcements for Countess Carvain of Bruma and obtaining the final recommendation needed for entry into the Arcane University, Julian finds herself with one more task to complete before she can return to Cloud Ruler Temple.

Chapter 26.1: The Golden Hill

Blanco clip-clopped carefully down the flight of granite stairs. I was glad to see him taking care, since we were above the timberline here, and the stones around us were slick with melting snow. Fat flakes drifted down around us in the grey afternoon light. Our breaths created tiny banks of fog floating past our shoulders.

As the steps ended at a terrace, I drew Blanco to a halt and peered ahead. The faint outlines of skeletal walls appeared in a wide dell below us. That has to be Sancre Tor. Gods, that’s a huge place! I could only see the northern and western margins of the ruined city. The further reaches were out of sight in the gloomy afternoon.

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Blanco tossed his head and pricked his ears ahead, sweeping his gaze and muzzle from left to right and back again. I dropped the rein on his neck in a signal to stand and swung my leg over his rump. As I slid to the stones, Blanco bumped my shoulder with his nose.

Our return to Weynon Priory yesterday afternoon had been uneventful. Blanco had enjoyed the rest of the ride back to the stable, and even helped me scare off a bandit that had considered ambushing us.

Teekeeus had been happy to receive the book. “You have no idea how dangerous this iss,” he hissed in relief. “To imagine Earana with ssuch a tome iss frightening! I shall keep it ssafe from the likes of her. And be assured, I will ssend your recommendation, along with this book, to the Universsity. Congratulationss.”

Earana had been understandably peeved when she found out I had given the book to Teekeeus.

“How dare you! Traitor!” Her piercing shout drew the attention of several around the plaza, including three guardsmen and the Altmer hunter Honditar.

“Traitor?” I repeated. “I never told you I would bring you the book. Only that I would get it.” I spread my hands expressively. “And when I realized it was a daedric volume, I decided it was better off elsewhere than in your hands. I don’t trust you with its power.” I walked away, leaving her spluttering beneath the Great Oak.

I shivered in the chill. Brother Piner had given me a fur-lined tunic, warmer than my quilted tunic and enchanted to resist frost. Still the damp bitterness and the falling snow made me feel colder, especially when I thought about Anvil’s warm sun I had left behind less than ten days ago. Already it was almost as cold as Cloud Ruler Temple had been when I left it back in early Frostfall.

It’s going to be downright freezing there when I get back. But it would be good to see Martin again. And oddly enough, I miss Grandmaster Jauffre. I just hope I don’t return the way I did last time, falling into their arms like that. I crouched down at the edge of the terrace, surveying the ruins a few moments more. I’m glad we didn’t encounter any more Oblivion Gates so far. Let's hope I never see another one.

I squinted against the falling snow at the overcast sky. Late afternoon. We had left the Priory before dawn, since I wanted the chance to scout out the ancient ruins while it was still daylight. From what I could see of the immense site, it had been a smart decision. It’ll take me at least an hour to scout it. More than a simple ancient fort, Sancre Tor was nearly as large as Anvil. I could just make out traces of streets running through the complex.

I recalled the conversation I had had with Brother Piner last night after dinner about the High Road.

“What do you know about that back road over the mountains?” I sipped at the steaming mug of cider.

“The High Road to Bruma?” Piner lowered his wine goblet. “If you can call it a road, that is. It’s not used much at all anymore, mostly by outlaws.”

“And Blades moving secretly from one end of Cyrodiil to the other, right?” I remarked softly. “It would be a great way to reach Cloud Ruler Temple unseen.”

“Touché,” Piner’s grin gleamed in the firelight. “Not very often, but sometimes it’s essential. But it’s not a safe path to travel. There are no patrols, no maintenance. In places it’s barely more than a deer track.”

“What sort of danger can one expect to see there?” I asked.

“Mostly wolves, bears, some lions,” Piner replied. “But there are ruins along the road that harbor lesser demons, undead, and goblins. The eastern half of the road runs near a couple of bandit camps. Then there’s Sancre Tor.” His tone hushed on the last two words.

“Sancre Tor?” I repeated. “What about Sancre Tor?”

“There are reports that it’s haunted,” Piner shrugged. “It’s a large town, and the road sort of runs right through it. It’s mostly ruined now, but still very dangerous.”

“Isn’t that the city Tiber Septim took from the Nords and the Bretons back in the Second Era?” I tried to recall my ancient history. Piner nodded. And the place where four Blades disappeared years and years ago, according to Jauffre. “Is it passable for horses?”

“Depends on the horse,” Piner replied. “Mountain-bred horses should do fine, but ones from the lower altitude will have a difficult time. Paint could pass over the road, but I hear he’s not well.”

Briefly I filled Piner in on Paint’s misadventure. “But Blanco’s High Rock bred, and I’m told he grew up in the Wrothgarian Mountains.”

“He should do fine, then,” Piner nodded emphatically. “Stairs shouldn’t faze him.”

“Stairs?” I topped off my cider from the flagon at my elbow. “There are stairs on the High Road?”

“Yes, some wooden ones a little ways north of here, and a set of stone ones just west of Sancre Tor. The wooden ones may be rotten, but Blanco should handle them fine. The stone ones may be icy this time of year, you’d want to go down them only during the day.”

I touched the stone beneath me. Already the moisture was turning hard and slick. Piner was right about that, and everything else so far too. The road had been still clear to Cloud Top, but we had encountered a wolf after passing that ancient path. Blanco had quickly convinced him of the futility of stalking us, and the animal had ghosted back the way he had appeared. As the way climbed higher, Blanco had proven adept at detecting trouble on the road ahead. I had become skilled at reading his signals. Even more than Paint, he could indicate to me the nature of the threat ahead or to the side. For the wolves and the lions, he would turn and face them. But the bear we had encountered elicited a very different response from him. Blanco had stamped his feet hard on the cobblestones, snorting and belling loudly until his voice echoed off the mountainside, and had braced for the bear’s charge. He had fallen quiet only when the big animal turned and ambled away instead of attacking. I had been grateful that we didn’t have to deal with a couple hundredweights of angry bear.

“Let’s get down these last steps,” I rose to my feet and signaled Blanco to follow me. I remained to one side of the stairs as he followed me gingerly down the final flight. At the bottom, I gave the Legion hold signal. “Stay here until I whistle.” I wanted to clear the ruins without worrying about him. It still made me nervous to have him so close to potential danger.

I took both the plain katana and Daedra Slayer. After a moment’s consideration, I opted to take Akatosh’s Fury as well, in case I had opportunity for sniping. However, I doubted that I would have much clear room for it in those tumbled stone blocks. Blanco whickered softly as I left him standing at the base of the stairs and made my way down the rough slope toward the ruins.

On my approach to the fragmented outer wall, a growl from the rocks to my right warned me of a wolf. I drew my katana and spun to face him. He stalked toward me, head low, hackles spiking his topline, legs stiff. He paused as I set my feet and tilted the weapon in anticipation of his attack.

A dry rattling sound caught both our attention. As the wolf’s gaze shifted past my left shoulder, I glanced around in time to see white bones topped by a round pate slouching past a gap in the wall. The skeleton carried a shield and an ancient sword that shimmered in the grey overcast. I ducked down against the wall to avoid being seen by the creature and turned back to the wolf. Only tracks in the snow showed he had been there. I barely caught the last glimpse of his tail as he disappeared between the boulders.

My heart in my mouth, I listened to the chattering of the skeleton’s progress. Have to get rid of him. But how? Then I remembered. Bones! My left fingers twitched, and my own summoned skeleton appeared in front of me, near the gap. He stood quietly for a moment, then alerted to the other and bolted in shambling chase.

Clattering and banging erupted in eerie silence, then my summons disappeared in a swirl of yellow smoke. I cast the spell again, and a fresh Bones took his place against the skeleton. This time, my summons won the encounter. I watched him as he returned to a patient slouch that indicated no other enemies nearby.

In this manner, I worked my way through the ruined complex. Bones proved his worth as I cast him over and over again against the other skeletons that seemed to infest the ruins. A couple of them were archers. When they gave their positions away firing arrows at Bones, I took advantage of their distraction to close on them from behind. Well-placed blows with the back of my katana blade demolished them before they had a chance to turn on me. Using the sword in this manner also preserved the keenness of the blade. Akatosh only knows when I might need a sharp edge.

It was full dark by the time I cleared the central tower. I spotted the door tucked away in the outer bay of the curved wall. Using my starlight spell, I brushed the accumulated grime from the plaque set into the ancient wooden door. Sealed by authority of the Grandmaster of the Blades, 36th Year of the Reign of Tiber Septim.

This is it. Time to bring Blanco in. I cast a detect life spell to make certain the area was clear, then walked out of the central keep. I made my way to the northwestern corner of the site and peered through the thick-falling snow. The temperature had dropped, and I shivered again in the cold. I had to rub my hands together before I could fit numb fingers into my mouth and send a piercing whistle into the night.

After a few moments, the sound of hoofbeats reached me, and Blanco appeared like a ghost out of the white snow. He picked his way through the ruined walls toward me and nudged my shoulder. Took you long enough, he seemed to say. Let’s get someplace warm. I smiled and rubbed his nose.

“Yes, let’s get someplace warm.” He followed me as I walked back to the central keep. The best-preserved structure in the entire town, the tower seemed like the safest place to spend the night. I would enter the interior in the morning, after I had rested. Blanco would stand guard in the tower while I searched for the armor of Tiber Septim.

This post has been edited by haute ecole rider: May 25 2011, 02:16 PM