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

[SubRosa]

Yay! the Interregnum of Old Habits is over, and Empress Haute Rider has resumed the Ruby Throne!

Lots to like here as we meet Old Man Phillida, and what appears to have been Julian's former c.o. as well. Your tie in with Solstheim and Blood on the Moon was very nice, and worked in seamlessly.

It was very observant of Lerus to be suspicious of the Count after she learned he knew him by name. Not just of Counts in general, but Terentius in particular does not seem to be the kind of person who cares to know the names of any of his servants. I doubt he even knows the name of the guy who wipes his butt.


nits:
That honoured user Gellius.
I see the forum is handing out undue honors to characters again...

[Grits]

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

I am so happy that you and Julian are bringing us more of her story! I like to read through every post multiple times, and each time I get more out of it. When Marcus Camillus strode into the room, he became instantly alive to me. Yay Julian and haute ecole rider!

[D.Foxy]

And we all have more than enough interest saved up! Hooray for your continuing the story!!!

[Acadian]

Welcome back to Julian and her Rider!

I'm pleased that you preceded this episode with a short review to warm us all up again. Then you included plenty of carefully crafted flashing back to help even further. I feel fully up to speed - which for me, says a lot!

I must heartily agree with SubRosa that Lerus was very astute to cue in on how Count Bravil treated the courier. Also, I quite adored how you tied Julian back to her guest appearance in dear treydoggie's story!

I also endorse Grits' observation of Camillus. He captured the room upon his entrance - wow!

Like Julian, I am perplexed that the wonderfully satisfying act of killing Kurdon, now seems to be a bit of an impediment. I look forward to finding out if the four folks in that room can render a military solution to a problem laced with nobility and, no doubt, politics.

Well done!

[Zalphon]

I love how deep the description is

[mALX]

Welcome back! (and it's about time !!!)

[haute ecole rider]

@SubRosa: Thanks for the welcome back and the nit. I’m still blushing at being called the Empress. Guess I now know how Julian feels about the Hero of Kvatch! I’m glad you liked how I portrayed Phillida as the Old Man. His obsession with the Dark Brotherhood will appear in the future, but for now, the Oblivion Crisis is in the forefront of his thoughts. Thanks for the compliment for my nod to treydoggie’s story. He has done a wonderful job with Julian there. And you are so right about Count Terentius’s suspicious behavior in front of Lerus when she first reported to him. That honoured user got by me once again! Thanks.

@Grits: Thanks for your kind words. I’ve been enjoying your tale of Jerric as well. Have you ever read Interregnum? Destri’s depiction of Hoag Merkiller was my inspiration for Marcus Camillus. I promise that when Julian finally arrives in Anvil, we will see more of her past.

@Foxy: Thanks for the welcome back! Julian has missed Dhertee Innu Endo more than she thought she would!

@Acadian: Yes, that quandary of that killing Kurdan gro-Dragol rears its ugly head now! Julian knows that there is more to lawkeeping than just killing the bad guys. The problem’s figuring out which is the small fry that you want to keep alive to go after the big fry. I think that is a big part of her commitment to helping Lerus gather the proof she needs to shut down Terentius’s illegal operations. For now, the Oblivion Crisis takes precedence, but the Bravil Crisis will eventually gain its own moment in the Legion’s spotlight.

@Zalphon: Thanks for the kind words!

@mALX: Thanks!

After reporting to Phillida, Julian and Lerus spend a long day in the Imperial Legion headquarters in the Prison District. Finally they retire to the Feed Bag in the Market District for a late dinner and some drinks.

*******************
Chapter 21.2 In the Feed Bag

Lerus leaned back with a replete sigh. Stripped bones, traces of thyme-seasoned gravy and tender crumbs were the only evidence of the herbed mutton, roast vegetables and fresh bread that now filled our stomachs. She stretched her legs beneath the table as the serving varlet cleared away the dishes.

“I don’t know about you, but that Inspector General Camillus certainly knows how to interrogate someone without torture!” Her sigh reflected Lerus’s exhaustion after hours of debriefing.

I hid my grin behind my tumbler of water. He’s the one that taught me what I know about information gathering. “His adjutant isn’t much nicer, ma’am.” Gnaeus Murrius had spent the entire afternoon walking me through my experiences with gro-Dragol and the Hunter’s Run. His incisive demeanor had resembled that of his commander so much that if I closed my eyes, I sat in front of Camillus again. Though I knew I had committed no crime, Murrius had made me feel guilty of something.

“Tell me something, Julian,” Lerus took a deep swallow of her ale, then burped quietly behind her free hand. “How is it you know the Inspector General?”

“He was my last commanding officer in the Legion, ma’am,” I responded. “I was pilus prior in his Ninth Cohort.”

“That’s right, you were in the Sixth,” Lerus’s gaze grew thoughtful. “And you investigated something for him?”

“A promising young Legion soldier was accused of corrupt activities in the East Empire Company in Solstheim,” I answered. “I was sent there to look into the charges.” My gaze moved to the water swirling in the bottom of my pewter tumbler. “He was cleared of all wrongdoing.”

“So that’s how you knew the kind of report to give,” Lerus mused. “When you came back from Fort Grief, I was impressed by the details you were able to provide from memory.”

“I learned from the best, ma’am,” I murmured softly.

“Well, I have to meet with the Inspector General again tomorrow,” Lerus continued. “I hope it doesn’t take much longer. I’m anxious to head up to Bruma and provide my assistance there.” She grinned lopsidedly at me. “You could call it a vacation from my duties at Bravil.”

I scoffed silently. “I can think of better places to have a vacation, ma’am.” Lerus chuckled at my acerbic rejoinder. “And better things to do than closing Oblivion Gates.”

“I remember what you said about the Deadlands,” Lerus’s green eyes grew serious. “It sounds scary enough, I wouldn’t want to go in there by myself. I still don’t know how you do it.”

I shook my head. “There was a time when I wouldn’t dream of going someplace like that without my cohort, ma’am.” I drained the last of my water. “And in the first few Gates, my knees wouldn’t stop shaking the entire time!”

“And now?” Lerus met my gaze. “Do your knees still shake?”

I considered her question for several moments. “When I taught the Bruma guardsmen how to close a Gate,” I said finally, “it was more nerve-wracking for me to watch out for them. It was like taking a century of rookies into a goblin dungeon all over again.” I shook my head. “Bor and Soren were incredibly brave, though. I think they were more scared than I was the first time I entered the Deadlands!”

Lerus regarded me silently, then set her tankard down gently. “I’ve heard things about the Bruma Captain. What do you think of him?”

“Burd?” I lifted my brows at her. What sort of things? “He’s a good commander, has a close rapport with his men.” I considered my interactions with the tall Nord. “The people of Bruma seem to like him well enough, for all that his manners are more Imperial than Nord.” I fell silent at a sudden thought. Two Guard Captains in the same place? No, three - Cheydinhal sent their Captain as well. Will there be some serious head-butting there? Have we created a greater problem within than without the city walls? While Burd had seemed easy-going with me, placing me in charge while we closed the Gate outside Bruma, he had made it clear that the Guard was his to command.

“Don’t worry,” Lerus had sensed something of my doubt. “I won’t play Captain in someone else’s town.” She smiled at me. “Like you, I know how to lay low and do my job.”

“I think you’ll get along fine with Captain Burd, ma’am,” I answered slowly. “It’s the Cheydinhal Captain I’m not so sure of.”

“Indarys sent his Captain too?” Lerus repeated. “Ulrich Leland?” She shook her head. “I don’t know much about him, but I’m surprised that the Count sent him.”

“And a full century of the city Guard,” I added. Lerus stared at me, her tankard halfway to her lips.

“Indarys sent a full century to Bruma? And his Captain?” She shook her head. “I’m posted to the wrong town,” she muttered more to herself than to me before taking another swig.

“Just be glad you didn’t get posted to Leyawiin,” I could not hide the grumble in my voice. Again I endured Lerus’s steady gaze.

“Caro didn’t send any help at all?” She shook her head. “I had heard about his provincialism, but that’s going too far.”

“That’s because he never served in the Legion,” a familiar voice brought our heads up from our drinks. I locked gazes with grey eyes in a weatherbeaten face topped by a fringe of close-cropped light brown hair. “Hello again, Julian,” he greeted me with a smile. “Mind if I buy you ladies a round?”

“Hello, Forenze,” I greeted him with a glance at Lerus. “Ale for her, and water for me.” I waved him to the empty chair beside us. He signaled to the serving varlet before obeying my gesture. “Lerus, this is Claudio Forenze, of the Fifth. He patrols the Temple District here in the Imperial City.” I turned to him with a warning in my eyes. “This is Captain Viera Lerus, of the Bravil City Watch.”

Forenze nodded respectfully to her. “I see I’m outranked here, ma’am,” he remarked. “But what brings you so far from your posting?”

“Count Terentius sent her to represent Bravil at Bruma,” I answered. “I’ve been tasked by Countess Carvain to ask her fellow patricians for reinforcements.”

“Really?” Forenze turned his steely gaze to me. “Only Captain Lerus?”

“That’s what we were just talking about,” Lerus accepted the new tankard from the varlet with a nod of thanks. “By comparison, Count Caro sent nothing.”

“Nothing?” Forenze repeated. “Well, like you said, his provincialism knows no bounds.”

“And if he had served in the Legion,” Lerus countered, her green gaze steady on Forenze, “the outcome would have been different?”

“Nothing like a few tours in the provinces,” Forenze grinned at his play on words, “to broaden one’s outlook.” He slid a sly glance at me. “Right, Julian of Anvil?”

“The Legion’s not the only way,” I responded. “Though I admit it has broadened mine, all right.” I met his gaze. “But to the best of my knowledge, Count Indarys has never served in the Legion, yet he has shown the best response so far - a full century of Cheydinhal Guardsmen led by Captain Leland.”

“Well,” Forenze rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I know that Indarys is a member of House Hlaalu in Morrowind. Hlaalu made their fortune in trade, so I would expect them to be less - well, provincial - than the other Dunmer Houses.”

“And he immigrated to Cyrodiil,” Lerus added. “So he’s been around quite a bit in his life.”

And here I thought it was because I rescued his son from that Oblivion Gate. I kept my thoughts silent.

Forenze turned to me. “So, Julian,” he lifted his tankard to me in salute, “I hear you closed a few more Gates.”

I shrugged my shoulders. Lerus regarded me with a small smile on her lips. “More than a few, I’d say,” she remarked softly to Forenze. “Let’s see, the one outside Kvatch that we all know about, the one outside of Bravil that Count Terentius wouldn’t let me scout, two outside Leyawiin, one at Bruma, and one at Cheydinhal.” Again she eyed me, counting off the gates. “Then we passed one near the Inn of Ill Omen that was already closed.”

“Seven by my count.” Apparently Forenze had been keeping count along with Lerus. “And my friend Marc Atellus told me she closed two along the north side of the Red Ring Road. That makes nine.” He turned his grey eyes on me. “Is that all of them, Julian?”

Hiding my face in my tumbler, I shook my head. There’s three more along the roads they don’t know about. Yet. After swallowing a mouthful of the refreshing liquid, I lowered my tumbler to see stunned amazement on their faces.

“Just how many have you closed so far, Julian?” Forenze asked. I shrugged.

“I still have three more cities to visit.” The swirling water in my tumbler echoed my thoughts. “More than likely I’ll have to close nearby Gates before their Counts and Countesses will agree to send reinforcements to Bruma.”

“And have your knees stopped shaking yet?” Lerus repeated her earlier question. I met her gaze.

“The day my knees don’t shake when I’m in the Deadlands, that’s the day I die,” I replied.

Forenze slapped the table with his hand. “That’s more than the Legion’s been allowed to do!” he exclaimed, ignoring the stares from the other patrons in the tavern. “Yeah, we’re spread thin right now, what with gates opening in all the provinces as well. The Televanni are managing to close them in Vvardenfell, but more keep opening up. Over in Summerset Isle, the wizards are studying them. Studying them! I’m surprised they haven’t had a Kvatch there yet!” His eyes blazed argent in the dimness. “And we have one right here on City Isle, yet the Watch isn’t allowed to leave the city walls and do something about it!”

My dismayed heart dropped like a lead weight. “There’s one on City Isle?” I asked him. Forenze nodded. “And the Fifth can’t sally out?”

“We’ve increased patrols here due to refugees from besieged cities,” Forenze replied. “Bravil, Cheydinhal, Chorrol, Anvil, even Skingrad. While some Bravilians have returned, the others, as well as several from Cheydinhal, have refused to return home. They say what’s to keep more gates from opening up?” He sighed, all the fury gone as suddenly as it flared. “Petty theft has gone up, and most of the inns are full. Tiber Septim in Talos Plaza still has a few rooms open, but I think it’s mainly because they’re too expensive for the refugees.”

“I see the problem,” I mused. “The thieves and con artists here in the City must be having a field day.”

“At least there have been no more mysterious deaths,” Forenze met my gaze. “Thanks to you.”

[SubRosa]

Two Guard Captains in the same place? No, three - Cheydinhal sent their Captain as well. Will there be some serious head-butting there? Have we created a greater problem within than without the city walls?
This is a wise observation. How long before all the roosters start loaf of bread-fighting?

And here I thought it was because I rescued his son from that Oblivion Gate.
Oh I'm sure that had nothing to do with it!

A good dinner that brings us up to speed on the events in the story. Not only of the results of Julian's work to recruit help for Bruma, but also explaining that the Legion appears to be doing nothing in Cyrodiil because things are falling apart everywhere in Tamriel. The part about the Altmer studying the gates was perfect. It sounds so like the image of the elves from Summerset!

[Acadian]

This was a pleasure to read. A yummy dinner with conversation that ranged far across Tamriel. I enjoyed the magnitude of the crisis you portray and thought it was a wonderful touch to see that there are others attempting, and in some cases, succeeding in closing other gates. I agree with the lady of the faint smile that having wizards 'study' the gates was a fabulous thing to bring out!

I can't help but like the Viera Lerus you portray. You have really brought her a long way. I like how she endorses that on Burd's turf, he should be in charge.

It's been awhile since we heard about the vampires of The Imperial City, but it sounds like things worked out ok for Roland. I hope I have correctly identified that you are referring to this now tied up loose end?

Speaking of loose ends, thank you for deliciously back filling us on her investigation into dear Athlain!

Hmm, let's see. Bruma, Cheydinhal, Leyawiin, Bravil. . . . Time to head west?

[Olen]

As has been said the wizards studying them was a stroke of genius, made me smile (and being honest if strange firey gates started opening study would be the first thing to happen). The characters are all excellently formed, I'd almost forgotten what a joy this piece is to read

The interactions in 21.1 were very well done, they served to highlight the differences between Julian and Lerus well. Though Julian has been down low she has regained a lot of confidence and stood up to questioning more than Lerus. Things like that really make your characters breathe.

So good to see this going again, I look forward to reading more .

And 215k! That's impressive.

[haute ecole rider]

@SubRosa: After hearing countless rumors (I love eavesdropping in the game, it’s funny how rumors get recycled from one conversation to another) about Oblivion Gates in other provinces, I thought it was high time to bring it into Julian’s fiction. When I got to thinking about it, I realized that the Altmer wizards in Summerset Isle would be more likely to study the darn things than try to close them! That comment on Forenze’s part came so naturally!

@Acadian: Sorry you missed the dinner, and only saw the rumors of it! I always thought it stupid in-game that a low level PC character can close those things, but no one else could? So I’ve been trying to provide a natural progression in other people closing the gates. In game they say the Telvanni wizards have not succeeded in closing the gates, but I like to give them more credit than the developers apparently did, so I have them being partially successful. Yes, that last comment of Forenze’s refers to Julian’s handling of the whole Seridur/Jenseric mess. You may recall that he was the one that gave Julian tacit approval to enter Jenseric’s house way back in Chapter 14.7 (thread 3). I’m glad you like how I’ve been developing Viera Lerus. She is one of my favorites of the minor NPC’s. And yes, Julian will be heading west soon.

@Olen: I figured the Summerset wizards would be more like modern-day scientists in RL! While I love science, sometimes their fixation on studying and research (rather than action) leaves me a little baffled! I think your comparison of Julian and Lerus is pretty spot-on. I’m glad you’re still enjoying this!

In the game, whenever I play the MQ, I almost never close the IC gate, or see Chancellor Ocato, since he doesn’t send anyone to Bruma. But here, Julian doesn’t know that, and is thinking maybe the Legion can help out a little bit. But it never made sense for a nobody to get in and see the High Chancellor himself, and it made more sense (to me at least) for Julian, being former legion herself, to go to the highest ranking Legion officer and ask him for aid instead.

***************************
Chapter 21.3 The High Chancellor

Phillida cast his sharp gaze over the Kvatch Wolf on my chest, freshly repaired and cleaned after my thirteenth foray into the Deadlands. “Is there any way I can talk you into signing on with the Legion as an independent agent?” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “You’ve been invaluable to us in your own way these past two months.”

I shook my head. “I appreciate the compliment, sir,” I replied. “But I have other commitments that precede your offer.”

“Ah, yes, reinforcements for Bruma.” Phillida nodded to himself, shuffling papers on his desk. “And I know what you are hoping for, coming here like this. But Julian of Anvil, I’m sorry to say that we just don’t have the manpower to spare.” He met my gaze levelly.

“Then you understand why I can’t sign up with the Legion, sir,” I returned his stare. “I’ll have to continue helping people where ever I go.” I took a deep breath. “I hope you realize that I won’t do anything counter to the teachings of Akatosh.” My right fingers rubbed the faded dragon on my left forearm, hidden by the mailed sleeve. Phillida’s sharp gaze didn’t miss the gesture, however.

As he inhaled slowly to respond, Phillida’s gaze moved to the doorway behind me. He stiffened suddenly at what he saw. I turned around as Lerus stood back against the wall, her head bowed and her right fist at her breast.

An Altmer, clad in scarlet brocaded robes, brown hair slicked back from a tanned face, stood in the open doorway. “Is this Julian of Anvil?” His brown gaze moved from me to Phillida beyond.

“Yes, High Chancellor,” the primus legate’s words told me the reason for the sudden deference. Belatedly I bowed my own head and mirrored Lerus’s salute.

“As you were, all of you.” Ocato’s light tenor released us from our obeisance. I looked up to see those brown eyes steady on me. “Julian of Anvil, I have heard much of your activities these last several weeks. How is it you come to serve an Emperor who is dead?”

How much do I tell him? “Emperor Uriel served the Nine, sir,” I recalled the words the old man had spoken to me beneath the Imperial Prison. “In his honor, I continue to serve Akatosh, the father of all the Divines.”

For the briefest instant grief darkened Ocato’s eyes, then his gaze cleared. “You could not choose a better role model to follow,” he said quietly. Something in his voice told me he knew more about me than I had let on. “And now you are on a mission for Countess Narina Carvain?”

“Yes, sir,” I inclined my head in response. “She seeks reinforcements for Bruma.”

“Why?” Ocato asked, his gaze turning sharper than Phillida’s most glacial look.

“There is evidence that Bruma will be the next Kvatch,” I answered. “If the Mythic Dawn manages to open three gates simultaneously in front of the city, it will allow them to open a Great Gate, the same one that destroyed Kvatch.”

“Bruma is a modest county on the edge of Cyrodiil,” Ocato mused thoughtfully. “Why there? Why not here, at the Imperial City?” His slanted brows drew together in a scowl. “With the Dragonfires out, what’s to stop them from targeting the heart of the Empire?”

Is the Imperial City really the heart of the Empire? Or is it Martin Septim? Silence seemed the best course of action for me at this point. High Chancellor Ocato’s very intelligent. He has to be - he’s a battlemage and the de facto ruler of Cyrodiil at this time. Emperor Uriel trusted him for a reason.

Now Ocato’s expression eased. “I see you know the answer, but choose not to divulge it. Whether that is a wise choice on your part remains to be seen.” He tilted his head at me. “But that is not why I came here. I came to see Uriel’s newest Champion for myself.”

Newest Champion? I felt my own brows rise at the Altmer’s words. It is true Emperor Uriel tasked me with delivering the Amulet, but that is all he entrusted to me. Everything else -- but did he foresee the path I would tread once I passed the Amulet into Jauffre’s hands?

Now Ocato turned his penetrating gaze from me to Phillida. “Commander, I’m aware that you want Julian of Anvil to rejoin the Legion. While I don’t doubt that the Legion would benefit immeasurably if she were to accept your offer, Commander,” he inclined his head at me before those omniscient eyes returned to Phillida, “I have reason to believe that Cyrodiil has greater need of her as a free agent answerable to no mortal.”

What? But I answer to Grandmaster Jauffre and Martin Septim! I bit down on the thought before it escaped my lips. But I can’t let anyone, even High Chancellor Ocato, know that I am a Blade sister, or that a son of Emperor Uriel remains alive.

“I’m not sure I understand, High Chancellor,” Phillida shook his head. “But if you say so, then I defer to your greater wisdom.”

“Every decision that Julian has made since that fateful night two months ago,” Ocato avoided the glance I shot him at the reminder of Uriel’s assassination, “has been to the greater benefit of Cyrodiil and its people. I do not doubt her dedication to Akatosh and his tenets.” He turned back to me with a slight bow. “Thank you for closing the Oblivion Gate on the east coast of City Isle. Now I must leave. I have much to do. But I am certain we will meet again, Julian of Anvil.” His brocaded robe shimmered as he turned away and disappeared from the doorway.

Lerus and I stared at each other in silence. Her stunned expression mirrored my own feelings at Ocato’s words. Phillida’s harrumph drew our attention to him.

“It’s not every day that the High Chancellor comes all the way here to my office,” he grumbled, almost to himself. He met my gaze. “Julian, I really wish I could help you on your mission. If it was only Bruma that is threatened by these gates, I would send a Legion or two to Carvain’s aid. But with gates opening everywhere within the Empire, I just can’t take the chance that the Mythic Dawn will exploit a weakness somewhere.”

Now his gaze moved from me to Lerus. “Ordinarily, I would order you to return to Bravil and continue your investigations there,” he continued, addressing the Captain. “But under these circumstances, it’s the least the Legion can do to allow you to carry out your Count’s order and head to Bruma as soon as you can to lend your sword.”

Decius entered with a knock on the door jamb. “Commander, a report from one of the riders on the Red Ring Road.” He held a scroll out to Phillida.

“Ah, which one?” Phillida answered his own question by unrolling the scroll. “Laterensis Maro. Ah, yes. Five contuberii of the Leyawiin City Guard are on their way north?” His gaze lifted to meet mine. “How in Oblivion did you convince Count Caro to part with some of his precious Guard?”

I stared back at him. “I - I’m not certain, sir.” As I stammered a reply, my memory brought back my own words - Mehrunes Dagon will be defeated. When Tamriel looks back on the greatest crisis that we have ever faced, how will history consider the Count of Leyawiin? “I only appealed to his vanity, sir.”

Phillida smiled tightly at me. “I wonder if High Chancellor Ocato already knew about this when he said you work best on your own.” He shook his head and returned his gaze back to the parchment. “And Captain Lerus, you have a few contuberii of your own, led by a Mirko Frederick, waiting for you in Weye.”

“What?” Lerus’s response was a muted exclamation. “How in Nirn did that happen?”

“Now, Frederick’s not your second, is he?” Phillida asked, handing the scroll to Lerus.

Her gaze on the parchment, Lerus shook her head. “No, sir, it’s Hans Thalberg.” Something in the way she spoke the name indicated her strong distaste for the man.

“Not exactly on the up-and-up, is he?” Apparently Phillida had noticed it too. “And Frederick?”

“He’s as good as they come,” Lerus set the scroll down on the desk thoughtfully. “Could it be -?”

“It seems that Count Terentius is getting rid of all those honorable elements in his Guard and keeping only those already in his pocket.” Phillida rocked back on his heels, his gaze on the ceiling. “It fits in with what you’ve already found out about the situation in Bravil. When this Oblivion Crisis is over -“

“That will be a matter for the Elder Council, won’t it?” Lerus asked. “And if so, what can be accomplished?”

“In spite of Count Caro’s narrow-mindedness,” Phillida’s gaze flickered in my direction, “he is not the least contributor to the Empire’s coffers. Count Terentius has always been most difficult concerning his obligations to the Elder Council. It is just a matter of time.”

Lerus and I exchanged glances. Is the Legion angling to replace Count Terentius with someone a little more - principled? Who? Will there be a shakeup in the Elder Council?

“Now the two of you get out of here,” Phillida returned to his customary growl. “I have too much work to do here, and not enough hours in the day and night to do it!”

This post has been edited by haute ecole rider: Jan 18 2011, 01:06 AM

[mALX]

The speculation of shake up in the governing forces in Cyrodiil at the end of this chapter are intriguing !! Great Write!

[SubRosa]

but did he foresee the path I would tread once I passed the Amulet into Jauffre’s hands?
I have always imagined that yes, he did see it all, or at least hope for it all.

But I can’t let anyone, even High Chancellor Ocato, know that I am a Blade sister, or that a son of Emperor Uriel remains alive.
I am afraid I really do not understand the reason for this, or for Julian hiding her being a Blade from Phillida? It is like a CIA agent hiding their affiliation from the Vice President or Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. The Mythic Dawn knew about Martin from the beginning, that is why they attacked Kvatch after all, and are planning to attack Bruma rather than the Imperial City, so it is not like she might be divulging secrets to the enemy if either is a double-agent. Unless Julian believes that Ocato and/or Phillida would want to assassinate Martin to seize power for themselves?

Is the Legion angling to replace Count Terentius with someone a little more - principled?
Like a certain white-haired Redguard perhaps?

nits:
Julian, I really wish I can help you on your mission.
Perhaps you meant could here?

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Jan 18 2011, 01:10 AM

[Olen]

I like the edge of political intregue. Julian is clearly apart from it but it still spills over a bit, I sense that this might well become a bigger element once the more immediate crisis passes. I also like how Julian went to Phillida rather than Ocato, it fits better with her character and makes more sense to see the legion commander rather than the de-facto head of state.

West... well that means two places, both of which should be fun.

...after my thirteenth foray into the Deadlands.

Good way of mentioning that she had closed the gate with the minimum of words. It reinforces Julian's modesty about closing them and draws attention back to the characters and plot (unlike the game where they were generally a tedious distraction).

[Acadian]

I liked how you portrayed Ocato. He is often kicked around, but you seem to show him in a reasonable light. After all, as Julian seems to point out, I presume he was trusted by Uriel and didn't get to his position by being a fool. I like it!

I also like what you are doing with Count Bravil. If you want to see which of his guard force have some honor, it seems one merely has to see who he is transferring away with the excuse of the Oblivion Crisis.

And Marius Caro comes through! Now, if we could only get him to take his Countess over his knee!

Goodness, the countryside is now filled with contuberri! That is some sort of pasta, right? Oh, Rider, I love it when you feed me. Yum!

Heh. Seriously, your writing continues to feel rich, tight and immersive.

This post has been edited by Acadian: Jan 18 2011, 02:40 AM

[D.Foxy]

And Marius Caro comes! Now, if we could only get him to take his Countess over his knee!

Seriously, it feels rich, tight and immersive....

So, taking the Countess with his knee feels rich...tight...and immersive...???

with...

HIS KNEE???!!!???

Even Alessia Caro might find that a tight fit...

[haute ecole rider]

I think Alessia Caro might find the head of a pin a tight fit!

*ducks and runs*

[haute ecole rider]

@mALX: Yes, I figure once the Oblivion Crisis is over, there will be a shakeup in the political organization of the Empire. After all, what’s going to happen with no Emperor? Are conditions ripe for a revolution? I do think so.

@SubRosa: Julian does not yet know what High Chancellor Ocato or Phillida knows, so she would rather they not find out from her! And she can’t let on that she is working for Martin. That’s why she is using the Countess of Bruma and the Mages Guild recommendation as her cover while she is working her way toward Sancre Tor. But Ocato is smart, and he is already asking the question why Bruma? He’s not the only one! As for replacing Count Terentius, I can assure you that Julian says no way! Thanks for the nit!

@Olen: Yes, westward ho. Two and a half places, actually. By this point in the MQ, Julian has actually become sort of matter-of-fact about how many Gates she has closed. The Deadlands still scare her, but she is getting used to its quirks and twists. I’m glad you liked the way I handled the IC part of the MQ.

@Acadian: I’m glad you like what I’m doing with some of the NPC’s in this game. I’ve always liked my villains to be smart and crafty, even likable, rather than some big, scary bogeyman that you just want to get rid of because he’s just in the way. I guess that’s why when Dagon finally makes his appearance in the MQ, I felt let down - like - this is it? Some thirty-foot high four-armed red Neanderthal waving a few clubs and axes?? Because we never really saw Sauron in LOTR, he was scarier to some degree! Oh, and it's my mistake. I just rechecked my research, and it's contubernium/contubernii, not contuberium/contuberii. I'll have to go back through my earlier posts and fix them!

@Foxy: Welcome back, Dhertee Innu Endo!

@All: For those who are not familiar with the Roman Legion, a contubernium (plural contubernii) is the most basic unit of the Legion. It consists of eight men who share a tent. Ten of these contubernii make up a century, or 80 men (not 100, as is commonly supposed). A cohort is made up of six centuriae, while a legio (aka legion) consists of 10 cohorts. That’s the organizational tree I used for the Legion - contubernium - century - cohort - legio - Legion. I hope this clarifies things for those who may be confused. A more detailed discussion can be found here.

After leaving Lerus with her contubernii at Weye, Julian says farewell to Paint and heads out on the Gold Road. First stop: Skingrad. A most interesting town, indeed.

***************
Chapter 22.1 Captain Dion and the Skingrad Gate

Roseate sunlight poured through the thinning canopy of the Great Forest as I hiked up the steep ridge that bordered Skingrad on the east. The thought of spending the night at the Mages Guild in the highland city drew me on. It had been a long day’s march since I parted ways with Lerus and her guardsmen at Weye, and my back ached from the pack that seemed to grow heavier with each step.

Having Paint has spoiled me. I’ve quite forgotten how to march twenty miles a day with my full gear! I smiled to myself. Paint had watched me leave him behind at Weye, his head over the top rail of the fence that enclosed the little paddock as I walked westward. I comforted myself with Merowald’s promise to tend to the gelding’s needs as long as I chose to leave him there.

But maybe I should return him to Weynon Priory. After all, he belongs to the Prior, and that place has been his home for ten years. But with Jasmine and Red both at Cloud Ruler, Paint may be quite lonely at the Priory with only Brother Piner and Eronor to care for him. Should I bring him back to Cloud Ruler? But that’s a hard walk into the mountains, not to mention the cold there. And Paint’s not as hardy as he used to be.

I decided to make my decision on my return to Weye. Until then, I’ll just have to hump my own gear. It’ll be just like when I was in the Legion.

As the lowering sun dropped behind the ridge, I recognized the black and red thunderheads typical of another Oblivion Gate. That’s right at the top of the ridge. Must be just south of the road. I haven’t seen Venturius yet. He hasn’t tangled with those daedra, has he? I sighed to myself. The Legion rider that patrolled the eastern part of the Gold Road between the Red Ring Road and Derelict Mine had been noticeable by his absence during my long walk. And now with the sun setting, the goblins would be coming out from Derelict Mine to ambush travelers along the road.

At the top of the ridge, I stopped to catch my breath and scan my surroundings. Smoke drifted up into the dusky sky from trees burning just south of the road where it turned north to descend the ridge. To the west, Skingrad’s crenellated battlements loomed black against the roseate afterglow of the setting sun.

Past the burning trees, I could see red surcoats of the Skingrad Guard moving through the gathering gloom. Overhead, the clot of thunderclouds rumbled and flashed blood-red lightning.

“Hullo, Julian,” Venturius’s voice reached me as his bay clip-clopped up the ridge from Derelict Mine. “I was wondering when you were going to show up.” He drew his bay to a stop beside me.

“Since when has that been open?” I pointed in the general direction of the Oblivion Gate, its flickering shape just visible beyond the burning trees.

“It opened on top of the Kynareth Wayshrine about a month ago,” Venturius kept a grim gaze on the path leading to the shrine. “Dion and Artellian have been rotating their guards around the clock manning the barricades.”

“Dion and Artellian?” I repeated. Venturius nodded.

“Dion’s the Captain of the City Guard, and Artellian heads up the Castle Guard.” His gaze grew momentarily distant. “I think it’s Dion that’s on duty now.”

“A month?” I repeated. “They’ve been holding the daedra off for that long?”

“Yes,” Venturius met my gaze. “They’ve had no respite, and no chance to go in the Gate itself.”

“I see,” I stifled a sigh. “Thanks, Venturius. By the way, I’m glad to see you alive and whole.”

He smiled at me. “That’s good to hear, Hero of Kvatch!” With a slap of his right fist against his breastplate, Venturius smooched at his gelding. The bay started eastward, following the route he knew by heart.

I set foot on the path leading to the Wayshrine. Before I reached the burning trees, I spotted the barricades that blocked further progress toward the Gate. I could feel the growing heat and crackling of energy in the air. Several Guards stood ranged along the barricades, their faces turned toward the portal beyond. I could just make out the shattered remains of the colonnade that marked the Wayshrine.

A slight figure stalked behind the Guards, pausing here and there to speak to one of the men. As he turned to retrace his steps, his gaze caught me standing a few meters away. Brows drew together in a scowl as he strode toward me. The red lightning flashed off his bald pate and highlighted his narrow face.

“I’m Julian of Anvil, sir,” I introduced myself as soon as he was close enough to hear me above the thunder and crackle of the Oblivion Gate. “I’m on a mission for Countess Bruma.”

“Julian of Anvil?” The Guard Captain, his rank signified by the russet cloth tied around his right upper arm, stopped in front of me. “And have you come to tell us how to do our job?”

I took in his gaunt expression, the thick beard blurring his jawline, the prominent shadows beneath his eyes. “Rider Venturius tells me you’ve been manning the barricades for a month, sir.” I nodded at the Gate beyond. “That’s a long time to be fending off the daedra.” His dark gaze wavered slightly. “How many men have you lost so far?”

“Eight men are dead,” the Captain responded bleakly. “And another twelve are laid up in the Chapel infirmary. That’s just the City Guard!” His eyes refocused on me. “I’m Dion, Captain of the City Guard. Do you need anything? Though I don’t know how much we can help you.”

“Do you think your men can man the barricades just a little while longer, sir?” I set my pack down and knelt beside it, detaching Daedra Slayer from its bindings on the outside of the bag.

“What are you proposing?” Dion’s voice turned wary.

I glanced up at him while I unhooked Akatosh’s Fury. “I’ll go in there and close that Gate. You can’t spare the men, and I’m available.”

Relief warred with worry in Dion’s brown eyes. “Are you certain? You’ve been walking far, by the dust on your boots and greaves.”

“I just need to refill my canteen,” I shook the container at my waist, emphasizing its emptiness. “Then I’m ready. It’s been an easy walk today.”

“If you’re tired, Julian, we can hold the line long enough for you to rest,” Dion laid his hand on my shoulder as I counted out my arrows and set the quiver at my right hip.

I shook him off and rose to my feet, buckling Daedra Slayer at my left hip, next to my plain katana. It was a moment’s work to string Akatosh’s Fury and test it for straightness, then I placed it at my back opposite the plain bow. “Your men are more tired than I,” I countered. “Even with the rotation you’ve been doing with the Castle Guard.” I pointed at the Gate. “If your men can keep the daedra from Skingrad long enough for me to close the Gate, you’ll get your reprieve soon enough.”

“How long will it take you?” he asked me.

“Typically between twelve and twenty-four hours,” I replied. “Depends on how big things are inside.” I locked gazes with him. “If I’m not out by ten bells tomorrow night, consider me dead.”

“You would endanger the Countess Bruma’s mission that much?” Dion’s voice held a slight edge of skepticism.

“I’ve closed enough Gates by now to know what to expect,” I adjusted the hilts at my left hip and drew the plain katana. “And my mission can not be accomplished if I don’t close this Gate.” I can’t expect the Count Skingrad to release any of his Guard with this so close to the Castle.

“I won’t pretend that I’m not happy to see you, Julian of Anvil,” Dion said finally. “But I won’t take your risk for granted, either.” He pointed at my quiver. “It’s looking a little light, don’t you think?”

“My marksman skills are much better than they used to be,” I answered. “Fifteen arrows should be more than adequate for me. And if I run out, there’s always my flare spell.”

“Magic spells?” Dion repeated. “What are you, a battlemage?”

“Ever seen a Redguard battlemage?” I countered, shaking my head. “Give me water and I’ll get going.”

****************
Twenty-two hours later, I crouched within the ruins of the Wayshrine, pulling deep breaths of the cool evening into my scorched lungs. The sigil stone sent its ghoulish song from my left palm up the bones of my arm. I used the plain katana for support as I staggered to my feet.

“Welcome back, Julian,” Dion’s voice reached me in the sudden silence that always followed the closing of an Oblivion Gate. I looked up as he held out a canteen, its top uncorked. He waited while I slipped the sigil stone into my belt pouch and cleaned my katana with the refresh spell. With the slender blade safely sheathed, I accepted the full canteen and drank it dry.

My empty belly full of cool water, I handed the canteen back to Dion. “Thanks, sir,” I croaked.

“Artellian’s men are on the barricades, but should he send them back to the Castle now?” Dion asked, his gaze scanning the surrounding slopes for remaining daedra.

“The Gate should stay closed now,” I replied. “If you’ve cleared the area, there is no further need to stand guard.”

“Then let’s head back to Skingrad,” Dion clapped my shoulder. My stride barely faltered, though Dion’s gesture was hearty enough. Once upon a time that would have knocked me off my feet. I’m still getting stronger.

Artellian turned out to be a heavy-jawed Imperial with a dissolute look in his eyes. He met us at the barricades and gave me a grudging nod. “Captain Dion told me you would close the Gate,” he remarked. “I admit I had trouble believing him, but I’m convinced now.”

“Julian says if the area is clear, your men can head back to the Castle, Captain,” Dion addressed his contemporary coolly.

“We’ll wait an hour longer, make certain there are no more daedra around,” Artellian responded. He turned to the assembled men along the barricades. “I need eight men to make a sweep right away!”

“Let’s go,” Dion said as I watched the requisite number of guardsmen peel off the barricades. “You’ve done more than your share here.” He turned and led me along the path back to the road, pausing to pick up my pack where I had left it beside the barricades. “Let’s get back inside the city walls before the goblins come out again.”

“How late is it?” I asked when we passed the mine. The sun disappeared behind the crenellated walls as we descended from the heights.

“The Chapel just rang five bells not long ago,” Dion answered. “You’ve been in there twenty-two hours, just like you said. I take it it was quite a large place in there?”

“Yes, though not as large as the ones outside Bravil or Leyawiin,” I answered. “But I had to do a lot of backtracking to reach the Sigil Keep.”

“And it’s as simple as taking the Sigil Stone?” Dion asked. At my nod, he glanced at me. “May I see it?”

I fished the fist-sized stone and held it out to him as we turned onto the Skingrad road that ran between the Castle and the city. He eyed the thrumming stone a moment, then plucked it from my palm. His brows rose in surprise at the aliveness of the thing.

“This really sets my teeth on edge,” he hefted it a moment, then handed it back to me.

“As I understand it,” I thought back to what Martin had said about the Sigil Stones, “they contain the souls of men and mer that have been abused into death in the Deadlands.” I recalled again the torture chambers I had seen numerous times, the blood splashed on the walls and floors in the towers, the ravaged corpses displayed like fine art. Even after twelve - no, fourteen now - Gates, my stomach still rebelled at the gory sights behind each and every portal.

“You’ve done us an immeasurable service,” Dion’s voice, unlike that of Count Caro’s, held sincere gratitude. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

“It’s late, but I’ll need to see the Count Skingrad,” I glanced up at the rapidly darkening sky. The stars were already appearing in the clear firmament overhead.

“It’s not late for him,” Dion remarked cryptically. “Let me send a runner ahead to the castle. The Count will see you when you arrive.”

This post has been edited by haute ecole rider: Jan 20 2011, 02:36 AM

[SubRosa]

The thought of spending the night at the Mages Guild in the highland city drew me on.
I guess no one has warned her about Vigge the Cautious! No Julian, don't go there for the night!

It is strange seeing Julian hiking. I am so used to her being on Paint all the time. It makes me sad that he has to stay behind these days.

The sigil stone sent its ghoulish song from my left palm up the bones of my arm.
This is an excellent description!

“they contain the souls of men and mer that have been abused into death in the Deadlands.”
A nice bit of world-building to explain the origin of the sigil stones. Well, maybe nice is not the best word...


nits:
Roseate sun poured through the thinning canopy
The beginning sounds a bit odd. Perhaps Roseate sunlight? or A roseate sun?

I comforted myself with Merowald’s promise to tend to the gelding’s comfort
You have a variation of comfort twice here. Perhaps the second instance might be replaced with something like needs?

[Grits]

Paint had watched me leave him behind at Weye, his head over the top rail of the fence that enclosed the little paddock as I walked westward.
*sniff* Oh, Paint!

And now with the sun setting, the goblins would be coming out from Derelict Mine to ambush travelers along the road.
Now those goblins make sense to me!

It warms my heart to see Julian’s confidence and renewed strength. Skingrad Mages Guild tonight, eeep! I’m not sure who is creepier, the Count or the Cautious!