Knights of the Nine - New Kvatch, Attempt at fan-fic Options

[McBadgere]

When I started this fiction, sooo long ago now...Little did I know to what size it would sprawl...Not only in terms of Geography, but the sheer weight of characters and, most espescially, time...So, to help, there are links below to the characters and the timeline my fiction follows...Both of them will help immensely...

Please enjoy!...


Dramatis Personnae



KOTN Timeline


11/02/13
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Original post start


Hey there *Waves*...This is me trying some fan-fic...Having gone through many of your stories, and reading the writing help post I realise I'm going to not update as quickly as I'd hoped...But I am working on something, it's just taking longer than I expected...Like as if it started here and I expected to be like there by now but new characters keep wandering in and needing their own scenes and stuff...Swines!!...

Anyways, in total since about 20 years ago (ie since I left school) I've written maybe three stories, two of which were published in a local writing magazine though...Wha-hey!!...Aaamywho...I've not done much writing...I wish to do more...I've had this thing (A world btw...No I'm not...Y'know...Entirely wrong up there ) in my head for many years I need to get out, so writing Oblivion fan-fic is a start on that road...

Anyways, this is a set up for what's coming, a prequel of sorts that puts many things in place...Sort of a more pleasant info-dump if you will...

Please be gentle... ...

Oh, btw - Elipses...I know there are many...My stories don't have them as much, but my forum posts and probably, therefore, my thinking does...And as most of this is in her head...You get where I'm going...

Cheers...

Oh, and that bit at the end...If at first you don't get it...Persevere...It will make sense...


Sneak.


Oh no...Nonono...Not him. Not them. Son of a Daedroth. Why do they keep doing this? Everywhere I go one of them ruins it all. Damned Knights.

Damn.

Let me start somewhen else.

This is me – mottled, but mostly honey coloured fur with just the right amount of red in it. Just enough to make me just the right amount of bad.

My name is Ras’sheena, I’m a Khajiiti. You can tell by the ears. Oh, and my oh so winning and friendly smile.

Yes Khajiiti means I’m a girl. How can you not tell?. I know this Mithril isn’t that figure hugging but really.

Oh yes...And by the way, I’m very good at my job. Always.

Six years ago.

There’s me, I’m the one with the box on my shoulder. Unloading the ship moored at the Imperial City docks. Most of you will wonder what’s a nice girl like me doing working on the docks? Well, a girl’s got to eat hasn’t she?

We’ve got a nice crew going here. There’s me; (notice the wiggle?...Heh, Naughty you...) And that’s J’Drell the Argonian, he’s big; even for Lizards. (No offence by the way.) Tall, strong. Long limbed, but almost graceful. Fairly new to the docks, just moved here from Anvil he says. Good worker, always talking and laughing.

Over there admiring the view (of me?) is my Mr Right, (Or Mr Right-now at least...Heh, just kidding my Hearth-Kiit. You were always the one...) M’dssark. Beautiful black and grey stripes, muscular. Athletic.

Makes me purr even now.

*Sigh*...

Where was I?

Oh yes...Even the foreman – Gremmand – is good; for an Imperial that is. Short but built like a Dwarf of old - Knows how to work. Which is also good - for an Imperial. As long as we get the job done without breaking or stealing the cargo we can act as we please to make the day go by.

So one day, there we were, just doing our thing when M’dssark gets called over by a Nord. Not sure of his name but I’m sure I’d seen him before.

Then I remembered.

Sometimes when we’d been out at the inn, the Nord would be about and he’d exchange nods with ‘Sark, so I thought nothing of it as they walked off behind the docks wall. Gremmand frowned but I just smiled at him. (Heh, funny how my smiles always work.) Anyway, ‘Sark comes back worried. I went over to him but he just says “Later Mii-Kiit.” (Pet name...Sweet...)

I always remember turning around and catching J’Drell turning his head away.

I never thought, not once.

In bed later...Y’know...After...M’dssark tells me of The Blackwater Brigands.

He’d been working with them for a couple of months, keeping an eye on the best hauls. Feeding them names, dates, crew numbers; you know, stuff a decent Brigand needs.

Oh how much love I had for him at that moment, my very own Pirate! In training to be sure, but still.

Two weeks later he was dead.

They’d convinced him to help them rob The Bloated Float. The Inn that sets out to sea for an added thrill to the drinking - Apparently. Still, it’s berthed at the end of the waterfront.

’M’dssark had heard that damned Bosmer Ormil talking about some treasure on board and let the Blackwater lot know.

*Sigh*...

Little did we know that there would be unexpected company.

’Sark had kissed me goodbye with promise of so much gold on top of the decent lot we already had saved. Enough that we could move away. Maybe to Elsweyr.

Five of them there were against the skeleton crew of the Float. Despite what they would have you believe, it takes more than the two of them to run the damned thing. Anyway, one thing Little-Chief-of-Brigands, Selene, didn’t count on was that damned Argonian.

J’Drell finished them all off - Even my Hearth-Kiit. I know he wouldn’t have made it easy...Good...Damned Lizard.

But still...

Damned Damn...

*Sigh*...

I paced up and down the docks awaiting the triumphant return of King M’dssark, Lord of all Pirates!!. And what I got was J’Drell staring at me as he came up the gangplank.

Oh, the blood on his armour...

He signalled the waiting Legio to take me.

Oh, how I ran.

Seems he was Legio Investigato all along.

Interrogator.

Spy.

Snaffashk more like...No, you don’t want me to translate it.

Damn...



-------------------------------------------------------



Five years ago.

Skingrad.

Oh the irony of the name.

The West Weald Inn isn’t just wall to wall drinking - “We’ve every type of drink available in Tamriel.” (said the banner in the Courier). Oh no. Some of us were hired as hostess girls. We were...Of use.

Well, a girl’s got to eat hasn’t she?

Tall, athletic, apparently a “Pretty-Kitty” so you would all say.

Oh, did I mention I’m very good at my job?...Always...

So there I am...Um, working...When one of my regulars – a Bosmer called Maglir – comes back from a job for his Fighters Guild shaking like a leaf. “I’m not going back there” he wailed. Later, having calmed him down, I asked what had happened. He told me of a cave full of Zombies.

The idea makes me shudder even now...So wrong...Anyway, he said it was just too much for him. Not worth losing his life to do a stupid job like that.

A week or so later into my life walks another giant, this one in almost full Ebony armour; except for the Dwarven helmet - You notice that sort of thing - Anyhow, Maglir told me later he was a Nord called Farn. When this Farn had returned a few hours later with the journal that had been Maglir’s original contract, and offered him the chance to take it in himself, Maglir had told him to do whatever he wanted. “I’ve a wife and kids to think about” he’d said. Later, I’d asked him about that. “No, I haven’t a wife. It always gets the good guys going though.” He’d said, ”Heh...Still, I’ve been thinking about it lately...Do you want to get married?...To me perhaps?”

Oh Oblivion...

I’d said yes - We got married.

We took the money that I’d re-made the...Um...Hard way, and bought a cabin in Bravil. Not the prettiest but it was ours.

Maglir, after a few months of dull grind with the Fighters Guild got a better offer. More money, better weapons.Safer he’d said. The Blackwood Company they called themselves.The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end when he said the name. I explained about M’dssark and the Blackwater, but he’d said I was being silly. ”Nothing to worry about”.

I saw that Nord walking through Bravil one day as I was going to my work in the castle (Maglir had mentioned my natural talents.)

No, not them.

The scouting ones we’d been honing...Um...

Anyways, the Bravil Guard (Yes I know...a girl’s got to eat though.) they needed help in the forest, and had asked me to help that morning.

Farn had looked at me through that helmet. I couldn’t see his eyes, but I knew he was looking at me. I almost ran.

A month later Maglir was called to Blackwater headquarters in Leyawiin. He’d told me to wait for him in Bravil as he wouldn’t be long. But the Guard, they’d asked me to help track a troop of Goblins headed towards Leyawiin - We got them - So I found myself in Leyawiin. I’d asked at an Inn for directions.

I was walking along the street.

It was the noise that got to me.

Heavy, thick, reinforced doors splitting, disintegrating, then crashing into the road. My brilliant, wonderful, funny and happy Maglir. His broken body pinned to what was left of the doors by an Ebony Claymore. Gods only know how hard that had been thrown.

And then, out of the shadows walks Farn.

He looks about at the stunned spectators, daring them to say something...Anything...Oh Gods why couldn’t the Guard do something?

Then...

And then he looks down the road, right at me. He raised his hand and I ran so fast.

I’ve never seen where – or if - my Maglir was buried.

Kynraeth bless him...

Even though I’ve been back there, I’ve never been able to find out from anyone.

Poor Maglir...

I even left the little shack in Bravil...Couldn’t face staying there anymore.

Damned Farn...Damned Nords...

Damn...

So then the “truth” comes out in the Courier about how Blackwood have been using mind-altering drugs (sooo different from using magic to help you fight, of course...) to help them fight and it caused them to do horrible, disgraceful things.

Well, maybe they did kill an entire village to get at some goblins; But still, not my Maglir, surely?.

Oh, and then they make Farn head of the Fighters Guild?

No. Justice. Ever.



---------------------------------------------------------------



So a short while later, the world goes to ruin. The Emperor betrayed by his Dragon Guard. The desperate and doomed flight underground. Oblivion gates all over Tamriel. No-one dared travel for so many weeks. Not with all the Deadra everywhere.

Suddenly out of all the horror came the saviours of everything. We’d all heard the rumours, The Knights of the Nine had returned!!

It sounded so...Amazing.

Truly...

But slowly and surely, they were everywhere. Around the country gates were closed by knights, clad in white tabards, with a red diamond on the chest.

Or something like.

Out of nowhere, one name was suddenly everywhere - Robert McWylde, Commander of the Knights.

Finding a lost heir to the Empire; Closing gates; Thwarting a cult.

A saving the Count of Cheydinhal’s son here, one running into a Gate alone and saving Bruma from a Siege-Engine there.

Damned Mr Perfect...

He’d even gone one-on-one with the Daedric Prince himself...And lived...

Just four of the Knights had gone to the Imperial City with the heir. How quickly would it have ended with more?

Ah, they’re not all Gods...Just...Most of them.

At the end of it all they’d named McWylde Champion of Cyrodill. At the ceremony he’d been all gracious and named all the knights that had helped, saying that they too were deserving of being named Champions as were all the Imperial Legionnaires and City Guardsmen that had sacrificed so much, but sadly he didn’t know their names.

Chancellor Ocato had simply joked “We can’t make enough suits for you all”.

McWylde had accepted the suit, but chose to put it on display at the Priory of the Nine in tribute to everyone rather than abandon his Crusader armour.

Oh and then he got married and the world went crazy...Again...Damned Courier.

Rumour has it that McWylde was Legio Elitarii. The Emperor’s Own they called them; Under the command of no-one but the Emperor (hence the name I suspect.)

Not just the best of the best, but better than that even.

Bet that stung Marick Gellert.

Another rumour is that Gellert was prevented from joining by the Emperor himself for some reason.

Still, Gellert got promoted to Imperial Commander and the Legion’s vaunted Dragon Company got formed out of it all. And while everyone was marvelling at their exploits and grandstanding, the Elitarii were always quietly and efficiently doing their job.

Well...That’s the rumour anyway...

For some reason the Emperor turned McWylde loose to go find the Crusader armour - We’ll probably never know why.

Maybe things were worse than we all thought...Anyhow, the rest is history...

Aren’t biographies great? I hardly ever read them myself.

The First Edition in Imperial City has many good ones...So I’ve been told...

Damn...

Damned damn...



-----------------------------------------------------------------------



Anyway, from then on the Knights of the Nine grew, until they had a Chapter in every city. And then they get their own city.

The Elder Council and all the city rulers and dignitaries - in their mighty wisdom - gave them an old ruined city to rebuild.

New Kvatch it’s called.

Catchy name...Guess where the site of that was?...

Took them ages to clear the ruins and re-do.

Nice job they did too...I must admit...



----------------------------------------------------------------



As for me...

I drifted from city to city, job to job - Always very good at them though. I had an incident with a despicable, horrible man in Skingrad (again, guess where I worked...Very good...) called Glarthir which led to some odd man called Lucien coming into my room to offer me a job - Well, a girl’s got to eat hasn’t she? - So off I run to an Inn of Ill Omen...(A little on the nose, but who am I to question?)...I kill some strange little man who I have no idea about; then I meet up with the Lucien who tells me of a house to go to in Cheydinhal.

When I get there, I discover that it’s all going on downstairs.

No, I mean...Nevermind...

Through a portal in the cellar, expecting some sort of greet, what do I find? - Everyone’s dead. Except for a little Wood-Elf, in a Knights cuirass. ”Hello,” he says, “I’m afraid they’re closed for business.” He narrowed his eyes “Best run along...Now.”

I ran...

Lucien turned up dead in Skingrad - Thrown out of a window into the street. Not getting up with his neck bent that way...Or that axe in his head.

Bosmer lady Knight this time.

I ran...

*Sigh*



---------------------------------------------------------------------------



Two years ago...

By now I was living in Anvil, helping out on the docks. Not as much fun as before but – you know – A girl has got to eat.

One day a man called Jayred Grice turns up at my door. A handsome older man, (so far as I’m a judge), whitening hair, intelligent eyes, Fantastic smile. Spoke with a drawl, like honey.

He was an ex-Dragon Company officer that had, with a “silent partner”, just started a new honest mercenary company called - Wait for it - The Dragon Company.

They were trying to reclaim his and his Company’s honour he’d said. Amongst those he’d recruited were a couple of ex-Bravil Guardsmen who had told him of me and my astounding scouting abilities - See, very good. Anyhow, he’s been trying to get his company off the ground; try to take some of the work that the Fighters Guild and even the Knights have been flooded with since the Crisis.

It was not going well.

Too much bad feeling attached to the name it seems; even if it had been proved that not all the Dragon Company had had anything to do with betraying the Emperor.

The Investigato had proved Jayred and some of his co-horts innocent.

But Grice was not for changing it, said he would succeed even if it killed him.

”Besides,” he’d said, smiling, “It’d cost too much to change the armour.”

A dragon - shockingly - rendered as if flying to the left but its tail curled around to form the outside of the G.

Very clever I must say.

Sign of a man with too much time on his hands maybe.

But I digress...

After a few months it was obvious that it wasn’t working and Grice was sullen, which was an mood I’d never thought to see on that man.

To try and help him up I...Offered myself to him.

My most figure hugging dress...You know how it goes...

”Bless you ‘Sheena,” he’d said smiling – finally! ”You do flatter an old soldier...But we can’t.”

My heart sank.

”Oh no...” He added, seeing the look on my face, “Nono; I think you’re beautiful...I really am flattered. But for one I am still your boss, and for another...My...Partner doesn’t hold with...” Jayred paused, wincing “with other...Species...

“I’m so sorry ‘Sheena...”

I saw apology, regret and shame in his eyes, and I believed his apology, absolutely.

To try and diffuse the...Tension...He started to tell of something he’d been thinking about.

“I’ve been thinking of moving the business...Elsewhere.” He’d looked me straight in the eye before he said, ”Elsweyr...”

Oh how my heart had leapt!!

Grice was basically planning a Fighters Guild style group but in Elsweyr.

”Seems it might work better there,” he said, “as they don’t seem to care who we were...”

I was to be in charge of the teams!!

Grice was coming too but I was his...Liaison?...Strange word, but basically I was to be the one that looked after the troops, report back to Jayred, and all the while still handling the big jobs that needed my help.

I was to be a busy-Kitty again!

We got rich!

We made so much money even the lowest ranks were well-off. Who’d have thought that a country with such tension would need such help.

But who am I to complain...

Grice would hold feasts for the troops to celebrate.

Usually, after the drink had flowed, he’d tell us all stories of the Glory Days of the old Dragon Company and Marrick Gellert.

One night I remember with a shudder was when one young boy (Damain, his name was) asks with total innocence,

“Was there anything that Gellert was actually afraid of?”

A jeering and laughing clamour had erupted around the tables. But Grice had smiled genuine warmth towards the boy.

“Yes son, he was afraid of only two things in his life...” He’d paused, ”Robert McWylde and Farn Olfsson. If you ever get on the wrong side of either of them...Run...Just run...”

He then told us the story of when on patrol, Gellert, himself and two more had managed to let themselves get ambushed by Ogres - The crowd had laughed.

”Yes I know, not the stealthiest of creatures, but there you go. So here we are, fighting for our lives against the damned things, and even that Dragon-hammer’s hardly denting them.

"All of a sudden one of them falls flat on their face...Well, with a warhorse landing on their head you’d think it wouldn’t have a choice.

"Farn..."Grice paused and looked those closest to the front in the eyes, "Looking at him I couldn’t decide which to be more scared of - Him or the Ogres.” Grice smiled; more laughing, “He took it all in in a second, jumped off his horse – which promptly took on another Ogre itself – ripped the hammer from Marrick’s hands and hurled it at the nearest Ogre.The hammer took its head off. I think the two that were left after the horse’d trampled the one he’d been hammering must’ve realised what was coming and tried to escape." Grice shook his head at the memory, "Anyone ever heard an Ogre scream?..I don’t think many have...

”Once it was all over Gellert had tried to thank Farn for his help. The Nord had simply stared at him, got on his horse and left. Marrick was ill for a couple of weeks following that. We covered for him, but the three of us who’d been with him thought we understood what had happened - Gellert wasn’t as all powerful as he’d believed himself...Seen quite how human he actually was...

"Mind you against Farn I think anyone’d doubt himself...So yes, Gellert was afraid of something...”

“What about McWylde?” Damain had asked.

Jayred smiled and simply said - “Next time...”



------------------------------------------------------------------------



A month ago...

We found the damned things in a cave outside Corinthe.

The cave had seemed unremarkable, but someone had pulled the entrance down leaving just the hole in the mountain to say it had been there.

Farian, our Battlemage had been sure there was something inside, so we took the time to clear and prop and boslter.

Wish we’d not bothered.

As soon as we get inside, the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Three of these things are in there. They made straight for Farian. He’d tried to defend himself but the first one got to him; And then the world went mad again.

The creature had simply put his giant hands either side of Farian’s head. The mage had screamed briefly, then just stopped.

Then out of his mouth came words, but not his...Sounded so strange...

“Nnn...No...No Hurt...Feed...Please...Alone...Long...”

“What do you need?” I’d asked terrified of the answer.

Well, then the damned thing’s mouth opens up and a ball of light comes out.

Next thing there a boar standing in the middle of the room - So I guess it eats boar, not people - We fed them, they let Farian go, and we go back to base with the promise to return having sealed the cave up.

Back there we tell Grice of the monsters.

Damain turns out to be a bookworm and does some research.

Couple of days later he comes back with an answer, ”Could it be these?” he’d asked, pointing to a pict in the book.

Oh Oblivion...I won’t say the name...

Even the name scares me...

But they’re so old...I thought they were all gone...

“We need them,” says Grice, suddenly vicious, ”My partner will want one too...Hope they don’t get separation stress...”

“We need to ask them first...” I’d said...”I don’t think we’d be able to make them do anything.”

Damain coughed, “It says here that to deal with...” He’d gestured to mean the whole world “Everyone else...they always need...The One...To be the focus...Which I think means what they did to Farian...I think...He has to be a mage...”

Damn.

Damned Damn...

Prisoners.

Grice was actually more vicious than I’d thought.

We’d raided a fort nearby a few days ago and taken a few of the Conjurors alive. He’d given them all a choice - help us, or be turned over to the tribes for punishment. Most chose to help, but we only needed the three.

So the “lucky” few were put on a cart and taken to the cave.

I couldn’t watch.

When it was all over, Grice – who’d come with us – Talked to the creatures.

“Why were you in here?”

“People...Feared...Pull...Down...Wrong...No Hurt...”

“Will you help us? We know what you can do.”

“Do Not...No Hurt...Yes Can Help...No Hurt...”

Grice had paused, admiring the creatures; possibly wondering how to phrase the next part, “We need to send one of you away...Somewhere far...Can we do that?”

“All Places One...We All Places Together...Far...Near...All One...We Hear...Yes...Send...”

And just like that, we had three ancient, presumed extinct creatures working with us.

Jayred had sent a message back to Cyrodill, telling of the prize.

A couple of weeks later the message returned that the “Partner” was as excited as Grice and that transport should start straight away.

Guess who was given that job?

Oh yes...Me...The curse of being very good I suppose.

I was given the location to head for with instructions to meet the local party near Anvil.

Oh it was going to be strange going back there after so long, but it was only for a short while.

“Two things,” Grice had said to me before a couple of days before I’d left, “Leave the uniform behind...No, I didn’t mean that...” He’d smiled,” I mean you can’t have anything linking to us if...Anything happened...Gods forbid...Oh, and the other thing...My partner’s people may not be so...Courteous towards you...Just ignore them...Ignorant fools...”

He’d given me a kiss on the cheek and after that didn’t see him before I left.



----------------------------------------------------------------



Now...

Damn.

Damned Damn...

We’re here.

Fort Freedom.

We avoided everyone and everything getting here, and what do we find when we get to the gates off the road?

Nothing.

No-one.

The local Captain that met us was worried as there should be at least a couple of guards here.

He’d suggested so politely that myself and a couple of the other scouts go ahead to check around the fort to see what could have gone wrong.

Well I’ll tell you what went wrong...

Damnable Knights, that’s what.

Why in Oblivion are they here?

Who is this damned partner?

I found their horses in the woods around the side of the fort, guarded by a Dunmer and one of those damned Wraiths they can call.

I couldn’t get close to the Dunmer without alerting the Wraith, so I headed for the fort itself.

Damn...

The ever feted J’Drell.

Judging by the amount of horses, there’s more inside...

What is he doing?...

Why is he moving like that?...

I’ve seen stealthier Mudcrabs...

What the?...

What’s that?...

I think they’ve found one of the others...

Damn...

I must get back to the rest...What?...Aaaah!...

Oh, no!!...

Damn...

Damn damn!!...

Gods not like this...

Not here...

I stand up from an oh so pretty body...With a dagger through its neck...we were once an I, a person...Now we don’t remember her name...Now we don‘t remember I...The Great Pride calls us...We are all the Great Pride...The Greatest One calls me to run...

I run...

This post has been edited by McBadgere: Sep 17 2013, 01:40 PM

[McBadgere]

NEW PARTS!!!... ...

Last lot before Skyrim...Sadly for you all I may be away for a while...I know...I can hear the cheers from here...

Oh wait... ...

Aaaaamywho...

Previously on KOTNNK...

Our intrepid and fearless band of merry heroes including Caroline McWylde (wife to the Commander of the KOTN), J'Drell the Argonian (Not the Commander's wife) and several other high ranking Knights, travelled to one Fort Freedom in order to capture a traitorous former Imperial Commander Marrick Gellert. On discovering civilians within, it lay to the Knights to protect them from reprisals at the hands of the hoard that had gathered at the gates to the fort...

Or something...



1.5 – Incoming.




...As we discussed earlier, all the magical disciplines fall within rules that have been established since the first casting (Multiple spells from the same discipline reduce effectiveness by a percentage factor. Multiple spells from different disciplines reduce by much higher percentage).

Conjuration, however, appears to be a law unto itself. If we go by the rules as set for the others, Conjuration is an impossibility. Take a simple object or creature - An Illusion given mass by Alteration, with creatures hurling spells of Destruction or using Restoration’s Absorb spells. Without any loss of spell strength?

A full suit of Bound armour - Illusion, Alteration (Shield, Mass), Restoration (Fortifiers) should cause your brain to melt out of your ears. Add into the mix the Bound Weapons – Illusion, Alteration (Mass), Destruction (Damage) and not only are the laws warped but well and truly bent as well.

And don’t get me started on the impossibility of the true Conjured Bow and Arrow spell...



Excerpt from “Notes on Magic Usage” by Francois Jend, Bravil Mages Guild. 3E 602.




Niil Deaconsson was fascinated. He’d tried not staring, and kept looking about to check for anything, but...The shapes in the hand Oreyn had resting on the floor kept appearing, changing every couple of seconds – a cube, an Imp, pyramid, ball, pyramid, strange multi-sided shape, The Great Tree of Chorrol, Cube, Captain Royal...Deaconsson had raised an eyebrow at that. He knew though, that these weren’t just illusions. He knew the difference between an illusion and a conjuration. He also knew that had he reached down at the right time, the imp’s wings would have made a breeze, the tree’s leaves would have rustled if he’d shaken it, not only that, he was sure that there would be pretty much the right amount of individual leaves on it...He shook his head. Power, he thought to himself, the Gods always call power to themselves. Now he smiled to see a children’s raffia-work doll in the hand. Suddenly, it turned its head and “looked” straight up at him. The doll waved its small arm and before he knew it, his hand was waving back. He caught himself and closed his hand, then looked up quickly...Straight into the eyes of the grinning Dark-Elf. And looking over his shoulder was Knight-Marshal Caroline McWylde, wife of the Commander. Reportedly as fierce as she was beautiful. And that was very, thought Deaconsson.

“It keeps children amused for hours too.” Said Kelleryn with a smile.

The Marshall laughed briefly and patted Oreyn on the shoulder then turned back to the others.

Deaconsson mumbled an apology and looked away to the Generals, still discussing the plan. Sir Niil Deaconsson, Redguard knight, born in a small village in the mountains, near the border with Hammerfell. Tried to read lips as the sun came over the horizon.

------------------------------------------------------------------

“So that’s it then.” Said Carodus, “We have them hold the edge and basically form a line in front of the gate?”

“Not much else we can do though.” Said Mazkay Dinai. “We’ve been through this Carodus. Demi-Gods they may be,” he said, pointing to McWylde and the others, “but you cannot take the fight to that many and expect to come out alive. We wait for them to come to us, we use them to keep the enemy in a line, then – with any luck – that lot,” the General said, pointing down the causeway, “will take each other out trying to get to us.”

Carodus Oholin sighed and said – “You can stop that now Deaconsson. This won’t be your kind of fight. Come here and make yourself useful.”

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“Dammit!” Said Deaconsson. Kelleryn looked at him. “I think I’m being sent to babysit whoever’s in there.” The pointing Redguard said to him with a sigh.

Kelleryn offered him an open hand to shake. “We must drink together when all this is over. If you wish, I can tell you all about...This.” He raised his other hand and the raffia doll waved frantically at Deaconsson.

Niil laughed, shook the proffered hand and moved off.

“What was that about?” asked Caroline.

Kelleryn smiled and said, “I think, my Marshal, that I have made a new friend this morning and I am pleased.”

Caroline laughed warmly.

“Ma’am?”

“Oh, I think you’ve made more than just the one.” With that, she patted him on the shoulder again and turned back once more to the other knights.

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General Carodus Oholin raised an eyebrow at Deaconsson. “Repeat after me. I will not lip-read my Generals who are crouched in the gloom of a gateway very early in the morning and are getting grouchy because they haven’t had their cuava yet...Nevermind. Nice job. Come see me - if we’re both still alive - when this is all over. I may have a job for you. Now go and get Captain Royal. And Deaconsson, tell Ordan I said to do and use whatever it takes to keep everyone alive. He’ll know what I mean.”

Deaconsson replied “Sir.” He nodded to the other General and then ran towards the fort’s entrance.

“We wait some more?” Said the Nord, “ I must say, these enemies are most obliging with giving us this time to prepare.”

“I know what you mean. But so far all they have is a vague disquiet about the sentries and – presumably - by now, the lack of scout reports. I hope Jarn isn’t going to start taking pot-shots at some of them. I like the enemy all the way down there. Gives one a sense of...Contentment.”

Dinai laughed and shook his head. Far too much fun he thought to himself.

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Thedret and J’Drell had caught Caroline up on what had happened since the forces had divided at the outset of the assault. She risked a look over the wall. “There’s something about the carts that’s not feeling right. An oversized prisoner? No, there’s something else.”

Galasafon nodded his agreement. “I can feel something...Like a buzzing in my head...Most annoying...” His eyes went wide and he stood up. “Oh no...”

“Galas?” Said Aeirawen.

Suddenly, every one of the knights felt a great pain blossom behind the eyes, three of them felt as though they had red hot steel in their heads.

Kelleryn shouted and held his, banging it against the wall as if that was a more preferable pain.

Galasafon simply stared it down biting his lip. Aeirawen noticed tears running down his cheeks.

“Oooh,” said J’Drell, “Most unpleasant...Gnnnh...At this time of the morning too...Aaahhh.” He held his head, “What in the Gods’ name is doing that.” He knelt up, looked over the top of the wall and augmented his eyesight to look down the causeway. He frowned. “What the hells? Watch out!!”

Suddenly there was a whisper, a bang and then several more as a knight rolled over and over as he hit the ground.

“Jarn!” Shouted Caroline, who then rushed to his help.

Turning away, J’Drell looked down at Kelleryn and then back down the causeway. He moved over to the Dark-Elf and put his hand on his shoulder. “Elfling, fight it.” The Argonian moved his hand to the top of Kelleryn’s head and simply said “Project.”

Kelleryn obediently raised his hand and a shape appeared on the ground in front of him. What the knights saw was monstrous in all ways. As Kelleryn was projecting everything J’Drell was seeing, they could easily tell the scale of the thing, which was terrifying. The monster was easily more than twice the size of the men near it, of which there were – admittedly – few. It could be said that it looked much like a man, in the same way it could be said a wolf looks much like a dog. Two muscular legs, rising through an equally toned midriff, and - aside from the obvious - a well-built roughly human torso. On the top of it all stood a head. A giant head. No eyes, and where they should be, the top of the head curled out and up so the whole head looked like a giant mushroom. It could be said that the arms were like a muscular man’s, however it had five of them, three on its right, two on the left. On the end of each was a giant hand, far bigger than even those arms should be able to lift. On its back were several giant spines, roughly the shape of feathers, a couple of which seemed to be glowing.

The knights could see a shape harnessed to the front of the monster.

“Is that a man?” Asked Thedret.

If it were a man, the profoundly unfortunate man had one of the giant’s hands on either side of his head.

“Oh sweet Kynraeth.” Said Aeirawen.

Caroline had come back from helping Jarn and asked, “What the hell is it Drell?”

“I have...Gnn-no idea. I will tell you this though. I am properly scared of it.”

Caroline bit her lip.

A book appeared in Kelleryn’s other hand. The knights could see the pages turning on their own. All of a sudden they stopped and Kelleryn could be seen to be reading something.

“I...Gnnn...Knew I’d read something somewhere...It does have a name...”

He looked out at the knights.

“Yskraich.”