Old Habits Die Hard Part Four, old habits really do die hard Options

[Olen]

Well I've caught up, there's certainly a lot of this now and it remains as good as ever, better even. I shan't comment on individual parts rather on the overall shape of things. I like the way you deal with the endless dungeon delving in game, while it could get far too repetitive you avoid that but stay true to game well. Fort Blueblood was a good example, avoiding the details and going straight to the important bit, Kalthar, made Julian's reactions all the clearer and avoided repetitive fighting to focus on her thoughts at killing another mage.

Likewise only giving description of the interesting gates, makes them seem more important and stops too much solo action slowing things down (which oddly is what all that action would do...). It's the characters and their interaction which are the really interesting stuff, as it should be. Seeing how Julian will deal with new people and places (I am very much looking forward to Anvil) is the real joy of this piece because she's so real. More so than just a 3d character she seems like a fully fledged person, and with the supporting cast of excellent side characters she really shines.

I'm also noticing that she is still developing, in the last few chapters she seems to have rediscovered her legion side which had only peaked through before, while also becoming increasingly able to do magic. She's certainly becoming more formidable, far more smoothly than the game would have it but again it reinforces that this is close to the game.

On that note one chapter I will mention was chapter 15 which was a joy to read, not being tied to events really gave the characters a little space to show.

I could continue... like paint who is so much more than quick transport...

But I'll leave it with SGM.

[Destri Melarg]

Buffy is scratching her head though. She thought all ogres were friendly like Lord Drad's.

Funny, I always think of Lord Drad’s ogres too.

Imagine you’re an ogre. You’re walking through the woods, minding your own business when you come across six ‘ogre sized’ tubers that someone has just left out to rot in the sun. These things seem to have your name on them, which is something that you would recognize if only you could read. Nevertheless you decide to take them because if you leave them where they are they are just going to rot. You carry them to a small clearing where you plan to settle down to a hearty meal and a good night sleep. Suddenly, some white-haired human is whistling at you. Being an ogre, your first thought is that those potatoes would taste great with some human . . . you aren’t really predisposed to second thoughts. So you charge, as ogres do, little knowing that the human is not alone. Another sneaks up behind you and they are both carrying those sharp, shiny sticks that you hate so much. One on one you might stand a chance, but against both at the same time they are able to wear you down by darting in and out like humming birds. You finally expire, your last thoughts being that you are sorry you didn’t at least get to taste a potato, and that you hope that the loincloth which your kind are at least intelligent enough to wear remains clean.

I think I had as much fun reading this chapter as you had writing it, hautee!

[haute ecole rider]

@D. Foxy: I presume you speak from experience?

@mALX: Somehow I just knew you were going to loooove this chapter segment!

@Acadian: Lerus was initially wondering why the hell are we doing this when we’ve got bigger tasks ahead? But then her Legion training took over and she stepped up. I’m glad you liked seeing her in this segment. I hope you like seeing more of Lerus in this segment.

@SubRosa: I was thinking salad dressing too! But Hidden Valley was too appropriate for that out of the way place that winds down from the Lake to Bravil. And you can take the five-bells shadow if you like! I tried to show S’jjirra as a very agitated feline. Believe me, I see this behavior all the time in the clinic.

@Olen: Welcome back! You and your wonderful insights have been sorely missed, but I figured RL got in the way. I could say I’m sorry for leaving so much material for you to catch up on, but somehow I get the impression you didn’t mind. And yes, I am so looking forward to Anvil too, but there’s the matter of Paint, and the musical beds and wayward zombies and a certain eccentric alchemist in Skingrad . . .

@Destri: It looks like you had as much fun writing your critique as I did the chapter segment! It’s funny, but I was seriously considering writing that particular quest from the ogre’s point of view as a short story! You have summarized my thoughts so succinctly it’s almost moot to write it now.

And now we wrap up Chapter 20. The funny thing is, I thought I would wrap the entire MQ up in 20 chapters when I started this. But it has grown into something a bit more epic, and I’m thinking this will go another 20 before Martin’s ultimate sacrifice . . . I hope that doesn’t scare people away!

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Chapter 20.5 Tied Hands and Potato Bread

S’jirra insisted on buying us supper. Once she made certain Abhuki had provided Lerus and I with a hearty meal, she disappeared with her jumbo potatoes. The innkeeper, another Khajiit female, shook her head at us. “Likely she’s gone to make morre of that potato brread of herrs,” she grinned toothily at us. “It’s a good thing Alix is nearly done with that brran mash forr yourr horrse.”

After we finished the supper of barley beef stew, roasted vegetables and sliced melon, I left Lerus beside the fire with a tankard of mead while I went out to check on Paint. Lencolia was leaning against the wall, watching the gelding as he slurped up the warm bran mash from a wooden tub. “Hullo,” he greeted me. “Thanks for getting S’jirra out of my hair.” He chuckled softly. “She’s a sweetheart, and I love the dear, but she can be a bit batty where her potatoes are concerned.”

I ran my hands over Paint’s smooth coat, feeling the dullness and the protruding bones. He picked his head up from the mash, bits dribbling from his mouth, and waggled his ears at me. My heart sang when he lowered his nose back into the tub. “Thank you for doing this, Lencolia,” I kept the tears out of my voice. “I guess I’m a little batty myself where Paint is concerned.”

“Ah, but he’s a living breathing creature that can feel pain,” Lencolia pushed himself from the wall and stepped to Paint’s opposite shoulder, patting him gently. “Where S’jirra’s potatoes are, well, inanimate.” He met my gaze over Paint’s back in the torchlight. “Will o’wisps are deadly creatures, indeed, and Paint is lucky to have survived.” His handsome face grew serious. “But I doubt he’ll ever regain that vigor that Wildeye Paints are known for.”

I remained silent. I’m sorry, Prior Maborel. I didn’t take as good care of Paint as I promised you. The tub clattered as Paint nosed through the corners after the last bits of mash. Satisfied that it was as clean as he could get it, Paint stepped back and swung his head to me. I rubbed his long nose, smiling in spite of the sadness I felt. The gelding took another step back and turned away, dropping his nose to the lush grass at his feet. The sounds of his large teeth tearing at the green stuff nearly brought tears to my eyes.

“Still, he is making progress, if he wasn’t eating well before,” Lencolia moved to stand beside me as we watched the horse graze. “At least he is not in pain anymore.”

“Will I ever be able to ride him again, sir?” I asked. Lencolia shrugged.

“Not for months, at least,” he met my gaze. “It’s best to find a place with good grazing and a person who will provide excellent care.”

“I have someone in mind, sir, someone Paint likes very much. He lives in Weye.” Please take care of Paint, Merowald.

Lencolia turned his face skyward, to the stars above us. “Then it should be an easy walk for him, once you get back up to the Green Road.” He clapped my shoulder. “Paint should be fine for the night. I’ll make him more mash in the morning before you leave. Come in and have a drink.”

“Make it water, please,” I murmured, giving Paint a last pat on his rump. He snorted without pausing in his grazing.

Tumbler of cool water in hand, I joined Lerus beside the fireplace, my aching feet stretched toward its warmth. She met my gaze. “How is Paint?”

“Eating, ma’am,” I responded. “Which is a considerable improvement over yesterday.”

“That’s good news,” she lifted her tankard at me. After a hearty swallow, she sighed. “As crazy as it sounds, it felt damned good to be helping someone in need for a change.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Remember Aleron Loche?” I nodded. “I knew gro-Dragol was up to something illegal. I wanted to detain him for interrogation, but I had a standing order from the Count to never interfere in that Orc’s affairs.” Lerus met my gaze. “How familiar are you with the command structure of the City Guards?”

“I know the Captains are Legion, ma’am” I answered, thinking of Burd and Draconis. “The rank and file are usually locals, or Legion recruits that didn’t quite make the cut for provincial or solo duty.”

“And the Captains answer to the Counts and Countesses of their jurisdictions. But if there’s a conflict of interest between the Count and the Legion, the Captain can then go to the primus legate of the Legion.”

“Adamus Phillida?” I thought of the commander. I had never met him, but knew of his status as the Legion primus legate. As far as the Legion was concerned, he was just one step below the Emperor. Lerus regarded me over the rim of her tankard as she took another draught of the mead. Her gaze wandered around the common room, then she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees.

“I’ve been trying to gather evidence of the skooma trade and gro-Dragol’s illegal activities in Bravil for a few years now,” she murmured quietly. “But the Count has obstructed me at every turn.”

“Did you apply to Phillida, ma’am?” I matched her tone.

“That’s just the thing. I’ve sent messages, but I’ve never heard back from him.” Lerus met my eyes. “Until now, I couldn’t get away to go to the Imperial City myself.” She looked back down at the tankard in her hands. “I think the Count sent me with you to get rid of me. But it can be a blessing -”

“You’ll try to see Phillida on your way to Bruma then?” I echoed her posture, so we could talk in whispers. “Do you think he’s ignoring your messages, ma’am?” Lerus shrugged. I considered her a moment longer. “Or the messages are not getting through at all. How have you been sending them?”

“By Legion courier,” Lerus answered. “Furio assures me that he has delivered every message I sent with him, but I’m not convinced.” She drained the last of the ale. “I brought copies of every report I’ve sent over the last two years.”

I considered Lerus thoughtfully. Why is she telling me all this now? If she has copies of those reports, she’ll get to the bottom of this. Or is she afraid those reports won’t be enough? “Do you want me to go see Phillida with you, ma’am?” I asked. “I can tell him about gro-Dragol, and about seeing Gellius Terentius in the skooma den.”

“The skooma trade is more than just gro-Dragol,” Lerus told me. “He was hired to handle the transfer from pirate to shore. But someone else is running the skooma operation in town.”

I met Lerus’s gaze. “Who?”

“Do you remember -” Lerus paused as Abhuki approached us with a pitcher of ale. We shook our heads at her in unison. When she withdrew, Lerus set the empty tankard on the nearby table. “Do you remember how you became addicted to skooma?”

“Akatosh,” I half-groaned. “I’ve tried hard to forget that. Ma’am.”

Lerus looked away. “I’m sorry, Julian. But it’s important, else I wouldn’t have asked.”

“I know, ma’am,” I shook my head, sifting through fogged memories. “I had just been thrown out of the Lonely Suitor for harassing the customers. The pain was very bad, and all the drink I’d had wasn’t enough. Someone came up to me, a grey-haired Bosmer. He offered me a drink of something. I was in too much agony to notice what it was, but I certainly noticed what it did for the pain.” I leaned back in my chair, stretching out my feet. “Later I begged him for more, and he set me up in the den above Carandial’s house.”

“Anything else you can tell me about the Bosmer?” Lerus asked.

“Just that he lived above The Fair Deal, ma’am,” I answered. “I’m sorry I couldn’t give you any more information.”

“How certain are you of those memories?” Lerus held my gaze.

“Pretty certain, ma’am,” I glanced up at the beamed ceiling above our heads. “That happened when I was relatively sober between binges.”

“You’ve given me enough,” Lerus assured me. “There is only one grey-haired Bosmer male that lives above The Fair Deal. His name is Nordinor.”

************************
The next morning we woke to the most wondrous smell I had ever experienced. The odor of fresh-baked bread drew me downstairs, where S’jirra bounded over to me. I cringed, expecting another furry kiss, but she settled for throwing her arms around my waist and hugging me tightly. “Oh, I can’t thank you enough. But let me give you a loaf of my Nirn-famous potato brread!” She shoved a warm package into my hands. Cautiously, I unwrapped it to discover a round crusty bread, its aroma coursing through my nose and warming me from the inside out.

Before I could thank her, she had bounced to Lerus, who had just descended the stairs behind me. I noticed that Lerus swayed away from the ebullient Khajiit and hid my smile. As she had done with me, S’jirra hugged the Bravil Captain and pressed another cloth-wrapped package into her hands.

Abhuki gave us a few slices of the bread along with some honey to drizzle on it for our breakfast. I sampled it without the honey, and was stunned at how delicious it was. A glance at Lerus’s face indicated she shared my surprise.

“I guess it was worthwhile recovering those jumbo potatoes after all,” she muttered around a mouthful of the bread. “It certainly makes up for getting kissed by fuzzy lips.”

[Doommeister]

Are you kidding h.e.r? I would read this story for another hundred chapters! I love it.

I'm glad paint will be okay. I just hope that he gets to weye safely

[mALX]

This has become my favorite chapter so far. Julian's rapport with Lerus was totally natural and easily visualized - and gave a foreshadowing of a subplot - YEAH!!!!!!

[Acadian]

After we finished the supper of barley beef stew, roasted vegetables and sliced melon,

Woohoo! Not only a solid dinner, but a yummy breakfast as well:

Abhuki gave us a few slices of the bread along with some honey to drizzle on it for our breakfast.

I'm glad to see Paint is getting better and at least eating well now.

Oooh, a mystery. Why are Lerus' reports to the Legion being ignored, assuming they are even getting there? The plot in your Bravil thickens! The Count, the orc and now Nordinor. Does the Count's influence reach high into the Legion? I'm anxiously staying tuned!

[SubRosa]

It is amazing how these stories can grow completely beyond the scope you originally intended is it not? When I started the TF 2.0 here at Chorrol I had planned to write a few new chapters to tie things together between some of the old ones. But I have written at least as much new material as I had at the Beth forums! Probably more.

Once you really get to know the characters, they begin to take on a life of their own. They start going down paths you had not thought of, and demand that their little side-adventures be told. What can we do but follow? It is like when a cat jumps up in your lap and goes to sleep. You are just stuck there for as long as they decide to stay.

But back to today's segment. I see Paint is indeed improving, with quite the healthy appetite! That is indeed heartwarming, as he has always been one of my favorite characters in the JF.

And we finally see a bit more under the helmet concerning the Bravil captain and the crime within her city. Most intriguing. I wonder if it is the courier who is not delivering Lerus' reports, or maybe some clerk or aide at Phillida's office?

Julian was thrown out of the Lonely Suitor? I shudder to think of how bad you would have to be in order to be tossed from that dive!

“It certainly makes up for getting kissed by fuzzy lips.”
It sounds like Captain Lerus does not like kissing men. Teresa will have to look her up when she gets to Bravil...

[treydog]

This episode shows your talent for creating characters that live and breathe. S’Jirra is the most obvious, with her endearing feline tendencies. But even the ogre gains some… not “humanity,” exactly- but “personality”- from your capable writing. Also of interest is the way Captain Lerus and Julian are able to work together effectively. Apparently, despite Terentius, they do not pick their guard captains out of a box of Cracker Jacks.

If you heard him coming and expected something like a bear or a troll, you’d be in for a nasty surprise.”

“It was a nasty surprise anyway,” Lerus commented

Have to love the dry, understated humor.

Will comment on the new post when I have time to read.

[Destri Melarg]

The funny thing is, I thought I would wrap the entire MQ up in 20 chapters when I started this. But it has grown into something a bit more epic, and I’m thinking this will go another 20 before Martin’s ultimate sacrifice . . . I hope that doesn’t scare people away!

Well, considering that I am the person who has taken an entire year to describe the events of two months and (almost) seven days, I can tell you without hesitation that I might be a little disappointed with only twenty more chapters of Old Habits!

Both you and mALX have taken Alix Lencolia, a man whose fame for his swordsmanship (leave it alone, Foxy!) is widely known, and transformed him into a sensitive soul who rarely even holds a blade, let alone using one. I imagine that all of those years honing his skill has bred a world weariness within him, and all he wants to do is live out his remaining days in peace. Isn't it ironic then that he demands that your fame be high enough to deign to train you. Especially when the achievement of said fame usually requires killing folks.

My own feeling about the mystery surrounding Lerus' reports goes right back to the Count. We know from Julian's last stay in Bravil that this particular Count has dealings with the Dark Brotherhood. We also know that the DB Matriarch and Listener dwell (if that's the right word) within the walls of the city and that they consider Phillida to be their sworn enemy. It isn't hard to surmise that they would go to great lengths to block any reports leaving Bravil bound for Phillida's desk.

[Olen]

That conversation was spot on. The interaction between Julian and Lerus is very well done, there's so many level to it lurking beneath the surface from their past encounters which are all there and I'm still far from sure either particularly likes the other yet. It feels as though Julian doesn't like the memories of Bravil Lerus brings up and Lerus feels slightly threatened (or perhaps inadequite) next to Julian, so while they would get along as people their own issues come between them. That conversation felt like them over coming it a bit (and really packed in the character and interactions of them both).

I'm rather enjoying this Bravil subplot, make me wonder if there might be more OHDH after the main quest end...

[treydog]

It is so good to see Paint regaining his spirit and interest. Even if he will never be completely well, progress is progress. And Julian’s care with her own health, as regarding avoiding alcohol, shows awareness and strength of character.

And speaking of strength of character- Captain Lerus is appears in a better light.

“As crazy as it sounds, it felt damned good to be helping someone in need for a change.”

Your concept of the guard captains being Legion and the guards themselves local recruits is one of those excellent, sensible innovations you seem to create in almost every post.

And we begin to delve into the secrets of Bravil- and of Julian’s addiction. I have to wonder if there was more to it than just hooking another customer…

“I guess it was worthwhile recovering those jumbo potatoes after all,” she muttered around a mouthful of the bread. “It certainly makes up for getting kissed by fuzzy lips.”

At least S’jirra had not just eaten a cricket before she kissed them!

[Remko]

Once more; I really miss the twirl smiley to express on how I feel about Paint getting better. Ah well, this will have to do
I also love the slowly improving relationship between Julian and captain Lerus.

[Winter Wolf]

Oh no, I go away for a month (or was it two? ) and find my favourite character in the WHOLE world is recovering and will struggle to be his old self...
Still, I am overjoyed to see that he is eating again and I do hope the luster in his coat starts to come through again.

Awesome to read your take on S'Jirra and Alix. That little hamlet seems to have a real life of its own.

Furry kiss!? Aaargh, that does sound horrible.

[mALX]

GAAAAH!!!!! What's goin' on here? NanoNano stole Naughty Haute !!!!!!! GAAAAAAAH !!!!!!!!! 5 days...KA! KA! .... GAAAaaaah ... * mALX expired in front of PC *

[haute ecole rider]

@Doommeister: I'm glad you're lovin' this!

@mALX: Subplot? What subplot?

@Acadian: I almost forgot that I hadn't fed you in a while! That's why I slipped those two meals in. I hope they made up for your enforced starvation!

@SubRosa: Well, there's always clean-shaven men . . .

@treydog: Regarding crickets and kisses, why oh why do I get the feeling that Princess Ms. Juneipurr is guilty of that social faux pas?

@Destri: You took the words right out of my thoughts!

@Olen: Old Habits will Die very Hard . . .

@Remko: Thanks for continuing to read!

@Wolf: LONG TIME NO SEE!! Paint was ready to give up out of loneliness - he missed his snow-lovin' buddy!

No story post this time. I actually wrote the bulk of OHDH back in January - March; Chapter 19 was written through the summer months, and Chapter 20 in September. I've not written since. So what happened was that the well of chapters have run dry. For the moment. Julian is too busy reading other fan fics to harass me about hers, so I'm focusing on Nano for now. Come December, though, we'll see. I have no intention of abandoning this, especially since I still have Anvil and Sancre Tor to write!

If between now and then Julian comes back to me and tells me more of her story, I'll post it right away for you to see. Promise! But my posting will become more irregular, I suspect.

Thanks all of you for your ongoing support of Julian and Paint and their friends.

[SubRosa]

(Most) women are all clean-shaven too.

Oh Noes! the well has run dry! Now we have to wait to see who Julian hooks up with. Will it be the blackguard pirate? Burd? Frederick of Bravilwood? Alves? Or the soon to be sainted Martin himself? She has someone in every town!

[Acadian]

Totally understand, Rider! Take your time. I somehow know that you are nowhere near done treating us to Julian's adventures. If it takes a long while between updates, consider leading your next episode with a short summary from the author to warm us all right back up to the action.

[Destri Melarg]

I actually wrote the bulk of OHDH back in January - March; Chapter 19 was written through the summer months, and Chapter 20 in September. I've not written since. So what happened was that the well of chapters have run dry.

I can totally identify. I have been having the same problem with Interregnum. When the well runs dry, all you have to do is leave it alone and it will fill up again. Take your time with Old Habits, we aren't going anywhere. Keep kicking a$$ with your NaNo novel!

[Olen]

If between now and then Julian comes back to me and tells me more of her story, I'll post it right away for you to see

I'll be waiting. Let's hope that well fills again.

[haute ecole rider]

At 215,000+ words to date, this is now officially the longest story I’ve ever written! Julian and I have finally returned to her tale. After a well-deserved break, we have sat down together over several pots of spiced tea to work further on her story. Thanks to all who have been reading this magnum opus. I have noticed that we have a lot of new members joining us here at Chorrol recently, and hope that they feel welcome to enjoy this journey of Julian’s and mine. If any of you would like to start at the beginning, the links to the previous three threads are in the first post of this thread.

The story so far - Julian has left her years of pain and addiction behind and is now a Blade sister, functioning as a secret agent. She is traveling around the county seats of Cyrodiil on behalf of Countess Narina of Bruma, requesting support from the other county leaders to continue closing Oblivion Gates outside the northern city. So far, Julian has succeeded in obtaining the assistance of the Count of Cheydinhal, though Count Caro of Leyawiin was less forthcoming. She has obtained the assistance of Captain Lerus of Bravil, but no other troops from the City on the Bay. However, she has promised to help Captain Lerus in her investigation of the corruption in the Bravil Court however she can. The first step consists of stopping in the Imperial City to report to the primus legate, Commander Phillida of the Legion.

***************
Chapter 21.1 The primus legate

Those steel-grey eyes bored into Lerus’s carefully blank expression. “What reports? I should be asking you about those reports! What in Oblivion makes you think I’m interested in how much the price of fish rose or fell on the city docks!”

Both Lerus and I stared at him. “I beg your pardon, sir,” Lerus managed to keep her voice calm in the face of Adamus Phillida’s icy censure. “I sent weekly reports detailing illegal activities in Bravil just as you asked me.”

“Decius!” Phillida shouted. The old centurion limped in from the outer office. I hid my wince at the reminder of my own erstwhile handicap. “Bring me the Bravil reports!”

“Yes sir,” Decius clapped his gnarled hand on his breastplate. “How far back would you like to go?”

“Six months would be adequate,” Phillida’s voice returned to a more normal level. The centurion turned and hobbled out. The primus legate’s gaze flickered at me where I stood to one side, then returned to Lerus. “I sent you to Bravil with orders to report to me on how the Count is handling illegal activities in that city. All of your reports to date contain only innocuous details such as how many arrests for drunk and disorderlies were made each week, and how many citizens filed complaints of petty fraud. I’m beginning to think you’re slacking off, Lerus.”

She squared her shoulders at Phillida’s cold words. “I have sent no such reports, sir.” I could hear the slightest hint of doubt in her level tone, however. “Honestly I have no idea what you are talking about, sir.”

Decius returned, a basket full of scrolls in his arms. I moved to take the basket from him. He grinned cannily at me and jerked his head toward the wide desk standing between Phillida and Lerus. As I set the basket down with a quiet clatter of the messages within, Decius reached past me and drew out the topmost scroll. “Here is the most recent dispatch, sir.”

Phillida indicated that Lerus should take it. She accepted it from the centurion’s hands with a nod and unrolled it onto the table. As I watched, her face turned to alabaster as she read the missive.

“Do you deny sending that report?” Phillida demanded.

“Yes, sir!” Lerus’s voice rang off the stone walls of the cluttered office. “I never wrote this - this - Minotaur crap!” She slammed the scroll down and shot a glance at me. I understood her unspoken message and reached down for her pack, resting on the tiled floor at my feet. Lerus took the bag from me and set it next to the basket. She found the dispatch she sought and held it to Phillida. “This is a copy of the original dispatch I sent on that date.”

Phillida’s glacial eyes moved from Lerus to the scroll she held out to him. He accepted it and opened it. Muscles striated the edges of his lower jaw as the primus legate scanned the words within. Lerus and I waited until he finished reading the dispatch. His eyes on the table, Phillida rolled the scroll in his weathered hands. “Decius,” his quiet voice matched his averted gaze. “Who is the Legion courier on the Green Road?”

“Titus Furio, sir,” Decius answered crisply. “He’s been on the route for the past six years.”

“Time to reassign him, don’t you think?” The question was more rhetorical, as Phillida didn’t meet his adjutant’s gaze. “Get me the Inspector General.” This was a command.

“Sir!” Decius slammed fist to breastplate before leaving the office. Phillida lifted his gaze to Lerus as he leaned an elbow onto the left arm of his curule chair. Again she stiffened beneath his steady eyes.

“How far back do these copies go?” Phillida gestured toward the pack.

“Four years, sir,” Lerus answered. “Since I was posted to Bravil.”

“And what prompted you to keep copies of every dispatch you sent?” Phillida drew another scroll at random from the pack and unrolled it on the desk.

“When I first arrived at Bravil, and the Count mentioned Furio by name.” Lerus’s voice resumed its crisp diction. I stood back and listened, fascinated, as she recounted how her suspicions were triggered by Count Regulus Terentius’s familiarity with the Legion courier, something she had not witnessed elsewhere. She’s right. I’ve never seen nobility be on first-name basis with lowly Legion soldiers, either, unless they had good reason.

“I see,” the primus legate mused, his eyes moving over the scroll. “Give me a brief summary of what you’ve found so far.”

I stepped back into a dim corner near the entry as Lerus recounted the events of the past few years. My feet braced shoulder width apart, my hands clasped behind me, I stood at ease while I listened to the Bravil Captain’s accounting of her investigation. She’s thorough, but there is nothing there that can be considered evidence. I felt my eyes widen at a sudden thought. But she has evidence now. Evidence I gave her. Evidence of gro-Dragol’s Hunter’s Run. But does that lead anywhere? No, not to the skooma trade or the black market smuggling with the pirates. And now that Orsimer is dead, he won’t be leading Lerus anywhere. I didn’t help her cause by killing that fetcher. I closed my eyes.

I recalled the request I had made of her nearly a month ago. I had not had the chance to look over the missive Frederick had brought me before I left Bravil then. Where did I put it? In my house here in the Waterfront. Now would be a good time to look at it. I wonder if Adanrel’s brother would be on that list? What was his name? Aden of Silvenar? Yes, that was it.

“- several of the victims that disappeared at Fort Grief had grievances against Count Terentius,” Lerus’s even voice brought me back to the present. “The most recent, Aleron Loche, had filed a petition with the county Court concerning maltreatment by his son Gellius.” I blinked at the words. That fetcher Gellius. Aye, he was one for trampling on the downtrodden. When he was sober, that is. Wretched Aia. Cosmus the Cheat. Reenum. City-Swimmer. Even me, before I was hooked on skooma.

“And where is this Kurdan gro-Dragol?” Phillida growled. “It’s time to bring him here, let the battlemages have a go at him.”

“He’s dead,” Lerus answered. “gro-Dragol made the mistake of bringing the wrong victim to Hunter’s Run.” She turned around and waved me out of my corner. I obeyed with the old crispness of my Legion rank of pilus prior. Phillida’s cold eyes narrowed at me as I stopped beside Lerus with a whisper of mail. His gaze moved from the Wolf on my chest to the katana at my left side to my white hair.

“This is Julian of Anvil,” Lerus nodded at me and turned back to the primus legate. “She went to Fort Grief to find Aleron Loche at the request of his wife Ursanne. Instead she ended up shutting down Hunter’s Run.”

Adamus Phillida’s face took on a thoughtful cast as he regarded me. “Julian of Anvil?” he repeated. “Have you always gone by that name?”

“Yes, sir,” I answered.

“Hmm -“ If Phillida was about to say something more, he was interrupted by the return of Decius.

“The Inspector General, sir,” he announced before stepping aside to let the tall man behind him enter.

I resisted the impulse to salute the big Nord as he strode into the office. Clad, like Phillida, in the argent and gold armor of the Imperial Palace Guard, Marcus Camillus was as bulky and imposing as I remembered him. Where Captain Burd was tall and lean, in the way of most soldiers, Camillus filled the room with his presence, physically as well as with the force of his personality. The red-edged black cloak swirling from his wide shoulders did nothing to hide the massive musculature I recalled so well.

My right arm twitched at my side as I barely suppressed the automatic salute his arrival triggered. It’s been how long -? Five years? Almost. His blue eyes swept over Lerus and me before he greeted the primus legate with a crisp salute of his own.

“Inspector General Marcus Camillus reporting as ordered, sir.” His quiet voice brought back memories of distant avalanches in the snow-covered mountains of Skyrim. Again he regarded us, his gaze lingering on me a little longer than I liked.

“I know you’re busy with the investigation into the Mystic Dawn,” Phillida’s own presence no longer seemed so impressive next to my old commander. “But something has come up that requires your tactful attention.” He gestured toward Lerus. “This is Captain Viera Lerus, whom I sent to Bravil four years ago.”

“I remember the case, sir,” again distant avalanches reverberated softly through the office as those blue eyes met with Lerus’s own glacial gaze. She averted her gaze with a salute. “And did you accomplish your mission, Captain?”

“No, sir,” Lerus replied, her own voice holding on to its confidence by a thread. “It has been quite the challenge.”

Again those Skyrim-blue eyes returned to me. “And I remember the Solstheim case as well,” he added, addressing me. “You acquitted yourself admirably well there, Julian of Anvil.”

“Oh, yes,” Phillida turned his gaze to the ceiling while I struggled not to squirm under Camillus’s steady gaze. “The Eastern Empire Company corruption case. No wonder you seemed familiar, Julian of Anvil.”

I kept my gaze level with Camillus’s cleft chin beneath that bristling sandy mustache. “Yes, sir, I am responsible for that case,” my voice managed to stay even. I sensed Lerus’s startled glance at me.

“I had heard that you were no longer fit for active duty, Julian,” Camillus rumbled at me. “How is it you stand in front of me, wearing the mail of Kvatch, with an Akaviri katana at your side, as fit as the day you entered my service?”

“It’s a long story, sir,” I answered. “And a long, hard road to get here.”

“Sometime when this damned crisis is over,” Camillus’s words drew my gaze to his eyes. The white crows-feet, more prominent in that ruddy face than I remembered, crinkled at me. “You’ll have to tell me over some ale at the Bloated Float.”

“Are you buying, sir?” Lerus inhaled sharply at my quiet answer, while Phillida stared at me. “’Tis a long tale, sir,” I added.

Camillus chuckled, the avalanches in his voice sounding even nearer as he clapped my shoulder. “I think I have enough drakes saved up!”

This post has been edited by haute ecole rider: Jan 13 2011, 06:01 PM