The Companionable Adventure of Sir J'Zirlo of New Kvatch Options

[McBadgere]

This story has characters which will eventually appear in the fiction of Knights of The Nine - New Kvatch, and is part of that story's timeline, so to help, here are a couple of links to it's characters and the timeline that it follows...

Please enjoy!...


Dramatis Personnae



KOTN Timeline



11/02/13
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Original post start


Umm...I started doing some journal thing for the Khajiit character I created for Skyrim, called J'Zirlo...It does fit in with the KOTN:NK storyline, but, as with the main story, it's taken on a life of its own and is expanding rapidly into the realm of fan-fic rather than what should be in the "What you're doing" thread...

So I beg your indulgance for the less heavygoing in the Divine/Timejumping-ness journal of Sir J'Zirlo of New Kvatch...

Oh, btw...Cunningly concealed within the journal are spoilers to the entire Companions questline...If you've done it, it's fine...If you don't want to be spoiled...*Shrugs*... ...

The first bit is the original thing I posted after I created J'Zirlo...The rest is the journal as it stands so far, any new bits won't be as long...What do you mean Hooray? ..

Thank you...


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"To where are you bound, friend Shaade?" J'zirlo asked.

"Riften. J'Drell asked me to see if I can muster up anything there. You?"

"Aaah...Khajiit is headed for Winterhold. That is where my scrawny reared kitten of a brother was headed. To that college up on the hill."

"A mage?" asked the Imperial Knight. "I had no idea."

"HAH!...He wishes." The large khajiit laughed. "No, he has grand ideas...But...Ach...Khajiit does his kin a great disservice. J'zargo is a decent warrior in his own right, just...Not as good as I." J'zirlo raised an eyebrow.

"Well, khajiit goes left, you, my friend, go right."

Shaade ran her hand down the length of her ponytail to straighten it, then held her hand out to J'zirlo. They clasped forearms.

"May your bed be free from fleas." She said with a smirk.

"Hah! And may your knees be ever free of arrows!" the khajiit repied with a smile.

"J'zirlo thinks that friend Shaade should smile more often. It is a beautiful sight."

The Imperial blushed, smiled and looked down at the floor. Then she pulled the khajiit close and kissed his cheek.

"Stay safe J'zirlo. Thank you."

And they parted.

J'zirlo watched Shaade walk south-east down the road for a while.

She looked back once and smiled.

The khajiit felt something in his heart stir.

"Until next time mii-kiit..." he said quietly, turned to his road, and walked, humming to himself.


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...From the journals of General Sir J'Zirlo of New Kvatch, brother of Blademaster J'Zargo "The Magnificent".




Khajiit are not ones for journal writing. We find it tiresome. Actions speak louder than words and assorted cliches. And I know of at least one officious clerk that will attest to the pen absolutely failing to be mightier than the sword.

And yet, I find that I must write something. Events lately have been...Strange, to say the least.

Once Helgen was secured and re-settled, we - the Knights - were divided off and sent on our missions. Friends Caerellin, Dinasafon and Shaade...Ah! Shaade...Hah...Sorry, got lost musing. They were sent to do what it is they do best, and Olffson and I were sent to Whiterun to make contact with a group we were told were the "Fighters Guild of Skyrim" by the Commander.

Friend Dinas decided that he would be better off alone and left swiftly and silently. The Commander laughed and said, "Just like his father!" but then suddenly went all sullen and told us to leave. I understand not the ways of Argonians. They are a strange race.

Anyhow, the four of us left Helgen with our packs and walked merrily, joking and laughing our way down towards Riverwood. Well, I say we...Caerellin and Olfsson mostly joked, Shaade and I mostly laughed. She has a particular laugh I noticed. It is...Nice...

We made good time down from Helgen, which was a heartfelt joy, as under the late evening summer sun, Riverwood is beautiful. Fortunately, the wolves that shadowed us all the way down, kept away.

In a way that made both Shaade and I laugh, at exactly the same time, both Olfsson and Caerellin said, "Oooh!" and made for seperate directions. Olfsson to the forge he'd seen and Caerellin to the shop that some "pretty" (as far as I'm any judge!) woman had entered.

Shaade shook her head and said she would go and find friend Ralof's sister. I bade her be careful. She smiled. Aaah!..

I made my way to the forge. Olfsson was already bare chested and beating out some metal! That Nord is unstoppable I tell you! Anyways, between us, we took all of the stunned blacksmith's stock of smithing supplies and produced a small stack of weapons and armour - which would keep him in coin for many months, I say with some pride! - in a matter of small hours.

While all this was going on, friends Caerellin and Shaade appeared and declared they were leaving to do something in a barrow...Well, each to their own. Little did I know, it would be some time before I saw Shaade again, else I would have made more of a thing of her leaving. Ah well, the moons still cross the sky and other assorted cliches!

When Caerellin returned alone, and also bade us farewell, little did I know how things would change.



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As the end of the daylight had been lost to helping the 'smith clear up his forge, Olfsson and I decided to accept the hospitality of friend Ralof's sister. However, we discovered that there was only one bed available. Olfsson looked at me and said, "We're not that close". The whole household erupted in laughter. Khajiit politely offered to stay at the inn, to which Gurdur said, "Only at our expense, with our apologies. But first, you dine with us." You couldn't find better peoples (or cooks, as it happens) anywhere.

Next morning, the Nord and I walked down a winding picturesque part-cobbled road. Suddenly we heard sounds of battle coming from the valley. Looking about us with life detect to check for prying eyes, we cast the speed fortifyer and rushed down to the valley floor.

Several people were fighting - with less than brilliant success - a Giant. Lest we tip our hand, we both slowed to normal speed and ran towards the battle.

Olfsson, as is his wont, charged at the Giant with his shoulder down. Knowing that at the last moment he would augment his speed and strength, I watched as he collided with the towering menace. The Giant toppled over onto a fence, the post of which skewered it through and out the stomach. He roared and tried to arch his back. I ran to the other end of the bearded aggressor, and, as he looked pleading at me, I removed his pain made of this world.

I turned to see Olfsson deep in conversation with a slight, yet obivously well able, red-headed Nord. As the party turned towards the city further into the valley, Olfsson turned back towards I and nodded. It seemed we had found the Companions.

My journey would have been quiet had it not been for the Olfsson-like Nord called Farkas that joined me, and began conversing with me about Heavy-Armour, a topic very close to my heart. A joy to finally meet someone as well able to discuss the intricacies of multi-weave metals and the despair of threading leather straps through Orichalium!!. A true master of Heavy-Armour I had found in Farkas, a Brother-in-Armour!!

And so I spent the hour of my journey to Jorvaskr - or however you spell the damned place - happy. A feeling that, sadly, was not to last.


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This post has been edited by McBadgere: Feb 11 2013, 07:35 AM

[McBadgere]

mALX - ...I was going more with the ashamed and agonizing about being a werewolf meself...But thank you...*Is grinning btw...Just in case... *...

Acadian - Yeah, sorry, I will allow Bethesda some credit for those names... ...Really is a beautiful piece of design that tree...And the parent tree that's elsewhere in the game (Eldergreen? Eldergleam Grove or something.)...I can't fault the design and art people on Skyrim...Simply beautiful place...Possibly worth playing it and never doing any quests...Just exploring!... ...Er...Sorry, yes...Thank you again, I'm glad you're enjoying this...I'm having a blast writing it...Much easier on the brain... ...

Athynae - No worries m'friend... ...Always glad you enjoy whatever I provide, for to take up yer time with... ...Thank you so much...

And, as I'm sure others will attest to, it really doesn't take this long to get through the door in the game... ...But again, this is me...

Grits - Thank you, as ever, people who don't really get much to do, but I feel like they've got a lot more to say to me will be given more of a chance through this story...Probably... ...

Mustard!! - Awright maytey!!...M'thanks m'friend...Glad you checked this new one out, and like it too!!...Cheers matey!!...



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As we walked up the steps towards the home, I turned my head to look back once more at the tree, Gildergreen. So beautiful. With so few trees to speak of, about what I’d seen of the city so far, it really did speak volumes of its power. To have avoided the axe and saw for so long, truly the power of Kynareth must be with it.

The other imposing sight contained within the park area of Whiterun was a giant statue of Tiber Septim, the Divine Talos. I found this surprising. We had been told of the Thalmor’s banning of Talos worship within the country, so the leaving of such a huge statue standing seemed almost confrontational. While we had seen no Thalmor in Whiterun so far, surely the presence of the True Empire fools in the city would have meant the removal of such a giant icon and his shrine?

A priest of Talos stood preaching his very heart out to all, and yet, to no one at all, as if just by being within earshot of the poor man might cause the doom of the Thalmor to be visited upon then and theirs.

Ah! But no matter, behind the poor man stood the Divine Septim in all his battle glory. Resplendent in his Dragon Armour, wolven pelt cape and winged helmet. Ah, the temptation to go back and pray at the shrine was almost too much! I merely nodded my head in salute and continued up the steps.

At the top, a few feet above our heads, there was a carved crossbeam, which passed over the width of the sizeable pathway. Two posts supported it, one either side. In front of each was a carved wooden representation of a Dragon head. I looked to the oft-patched against leaks, longboat roof of the building - supported by more carved oaken pillars – and saw several more of the Dragons seemingly peering about the place. I asked friend Farkas about this.

“Uh, I don’t really know why. Vilkas might know, my brother. He’s the one with the smarts.”

“Ah, you do not credit yourself highly enough my friend. What you have already spoken of on the subject of armours would be beyond many, I suspect even your brother with the smarts.”

“Friend?” Farkas frowned and looked questioningly at I.

“Well, if you so wish. J’Zirlo would be honoured to call Farkas, friend.”

“Oh. Well...Friend it is.” He smiled and nodded and held out his forearm to me. We clasped, as brothers in arms do, and then he continued, “As for the Dragon heads, I honestly have no real idea, it may have something to do with that place up there,” he pointed his thumb up over his shoulder, up towards a truly massive, imposing palace that Olfsson and I had seen dominating the valley, atop the only hill on the valley floor, “it’s called Dragonsreach. Why? That really is a question for Vilkas.” He smiled. “That’s where the Jarl is, if you ever need to see him.”

I resolved to go and look closer at the palace of Dragonsreach as soon as a free moment should happen to me. From where I stood, it seemed as if the obsession with wood had run into some sort of wall. Literally. For one half of the giant, many layered palace - which must have taken half the trees in Skyrim to build - was timber, that much was obvious, even from where we stood, and the other half was a truly immense, stone block Keep. At least half as tall again as some of the castles in Cyrodiil. Yet this was no castle. It seemed dark, foreboding. This was simply a giant block of blocks, built for a purpose.

And yet, looking at it provided no clue as to what.

Ah! Perhaps this brother of Farkas’ would provide answers. Perhaps not. We shall see.

Friend Farkas followed my gaze, “Aye. Scares the cr@p out of me too.” He patted me on the shoulder, then walked to the longhouse’s door and pulled it open. The Nord then gestured for me to follow.

I took one more look about myself, then walked into Jorrvaskr.



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This post has been edited by McBadgere: Apr 8 2012, 11:59 AM