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

[ghastley]

Of course, any shortcut one hasn't already used is full of enemies. But the zombie-detector is back in full operation, and there's charge back in Touch, so it shouldn't be too bad, unless carelessness sets in.

If she's going to adventure with Sai more in future, it looks like a few scrolls, rather than potions, would be useful for healing and protecting him. Pity you can't make your own.

[SubRosa]

What you said about one on one battles, most last only seconds, and are over in the first pass. Skill means everything. A trained fighter will kill an amateur almost instantly. You can see it when you watch the recreationists spar with one another. Those people are serious, use real manuscripts from the middle ages to base their moves on, and do not hold back in the slightest.

fear and worry a walnut in my throat
This was an wonderful passage. Well, maybe not wonderful for Julian, but wonderful for me to read!

I blinked at the realization of how much my magicka had become a part of my everyday life
Indeed. She is Julian the magician now.

A wonderful segment spent on healing Sai. That is indeed one lucky dog! Let's just hope Julian gets him some doggie armor if she is going to keep bringing him to dungeons. Or at least some shield potions.

So this is where the King waited in ambush.
Here's a pic of where the King used to lie in wait...

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Sep 2 2011, 07:42 PM

[Acadian]

Lots of clinically detailed healing here. Sai did indeed fight bravely and it was wonderful to see Julian’s devotion and concern for him.

’Between Sai’s tendency to grab shin bones and Touch’s enchantment, we made short work of the shambling skeleton.’
This was great! After all the recent fighting, it was nice to have a short but delightful description with a touch of humor that also serves to show our dynamic duo is (almost) back to full speed.

More a suggestion than a nit: ’Agony surged up my hands into my own chest, making my own respirations turn more ragged against the added burden. My own bruises and injuries faded before the severity of Sai’s injury.’
You might want to tinker with this to avoid using ‘my own’ three times within these two sentences.

[Grits]

My heart skipped a beat when I realized he hadn’t moved, that he still lay with his head between his forepaws.

So did mine! I didn’t realize that he was that badly hurt, but of course he’s not wearing an enchanted cuirass. Perhaps a shield collar? Poor Sai! I enjoyed Julian’s thoughts about conserving her magicka. I’ve been spending time with an Atronach, so I also tend to forget about having a more limited pool. That was a good reminder.

I don’t remember much of Miscarcand, but hopefully the secret key means they’re almost out. CRT will be very welcome.

[Destri Melarg]

I can see that the veterinarian rises to the challenge once again. As much as I love reading them, I hope that you aren’t getting poor Sai hurt just so that you can revel in your detailed descriptions of healing him! That moment when he places his paw on Julian’s knee left a walnut in my throat, and here I thought I was immune to such things!

I echo the sentiment that potions and scrolls would be useful in Julian’s future forays into dark dangerous places with her new sidekick. I also think that some training in Alteration is in order so that Julian can learn to cast a shield that may spare Sai the brunt of any future damage. Right now I think that they have earned a nice peaceful journey back to Cloud Ruler, and Sai has more than earned a well proportioned leg of mutton.

[SubRosa]

and Sai has more than earned a well proportioned leg of mutton.

Or at least a leg-bone packed with some juicy marrow for a change!

[haute ecole rider]

@Olen: You mean to tell me I got a professed cat-lover worried about a dog! Wow, I must be doing something right! Yes, Miscarcand is one long stretch of injuries, heal, injuries, heal, injuries, heal, injuries, oh damn, out of magic charge, heal -- If that doesn't make Julian a master of restoration by now . . .!

@ghastley: It was interesting to see Maigret come out with a brace of battle dogs over on TES Nexus right after you and many others commented that Sai would need some kind of shielding. I checked it out, but didn't like the armor. It's bulky, impractical, and would only slow the dogs down as it would interfere with their freedom of movement. Since dogs rely on their speed and agility (almost as much as cats) to stay intact, the armor is a big no-no. You can load it up with magical effects, and I'm still shaking my head. Poor choices there. No protection over vital areas, obstruction of ears and eyes, restriction of lateral movement. Nope. On the other hand, I loved the concept. So I may tinker with it, check out the scripting to see if it can be used with another actor. We'll see.

@SubRosa: I think Miscarcand really brings home the fact that Julian made the right choice in joining the Mages Guild. She is determined to use magic as she has seen battlemages do, and that means a lot of destruction and restoration skillz. She is still the kind of person to do the dirty work herself, so a summons is something she'll use only for distraction or to level the playing field, not as protection.

@Acadian: Thanks for pointing out the nit. I wanted to emphasize that it is Julian who is experiencing Sai's suffering, but like you said, it might be overkill. So I'll keep it in mind and decide sometime today whether to change it or not. I'm glad you liked the short description of how Sai and Julian dealt with that skelly by the sarcophagus. And Julian uses humor the way Abe Lincoln did during the Civil War - if not for it, she'd be a quivering, teary mess of jelly.

@Grits: Julian didn't realize he was that badly hurt either! It was like reliving that will-o-wisp with Paint all over again for both of us. And yes, Julian has a very limited pool of magicka - it took her a long time to reach the point where she could cast four Convalescence spells in a row (like around level 18). And here my novice Breton character is doing it at level three.

@Destri: Sai is a typical dog, always getting in the thick of things. Not like a cat, smart enough to run and hide somewhere until the dust settles. The fact that such a little gesture of Sai's got to you makes me feel validated about my writing. I've actually had patients do that to me when I've been able to give them some measure of relief. As for continuing as her sidekick, I think that's pretty much over. For the rest of the MQ, anyway. Your wish for a peaceful journey back to CRT may be in vain, but not to worry. I'm overdue for feeding Acadian, so Sai is sure to get better than just a leg of mutton!

****************************
Chapter 28.9: Leaving Miscarcand

Cold air swirled into our faces as I pulled the heavy stone door open. Sai trotted out ahead of me, onto the spiral staircase, as I stared at the specks of pristine white sprinkling the weathered marble. Snow? More drifted down from a sky half black, half star-sprinkled. Well, it is Evening Star, after all, and we’re in the highlands here. Sai’s dark form waited as I cautiously ascended the slick steps.

Once I reached the top, I paused and took several deep breaths. My breaths dissipated silently among the fat snowflakes. The cold air cleansed the last of the stuffy air and zombie stench from my lungs and my nostrils. Beside me, Sai sniffed at the breeze with noisy sighs.

I looked down as my left fingers brushed the tips of his ears. “Let’s go find Blanco,” I murmured to him. He leaped over the twisting roots and darted into the night. When I reached the ground behind him, I noticed that the snow was just beginning to coat the tall grasses that blanketed the exterior ruins.

I shifted the pack more comfortably on my back and struck off along the broken wall that delineated the eastern margin of Miscarcand. Our footfalls were deadened by the growing quilt of white as the snowfall thickened. As he had on our arrival, Sai ranged ahead, putting his busy nose to good use at each and every shrub and rock outcropping we passed.

I noticed he did not move with the same energy as before. He’s tired. ‘Blivion, we’re both tired! A glance at the bit of clear sky fleeing before the oncoming overcast told me that it was very early in the morning hours. We’ve been in that ruin nearly a full day. I think I will spend the day at the camp, if Blanco is amenable. He may want to head back to Skingrad and the stables there immediately.

I smiled at the thought of the white stallion. He hadn’t demonstrated an eagerness to leave when I exited Sancre Tor. Instead, he had waited quietly while I recuperated from my exhausting search for Tiber Septim’s armor.

My thoughts moved to the four Blades I had met in that ancient city. Can’t rightly call them ghosts - they were real enough to hurt me. Yet once their souls were free, they were as courteous to me as Baurus, as Cyrus and Roliand and the others. I felt a frown cross my chilled face at a random thought. I thought about them when that shaman showed up. Why would I think of them and not Florian, who saved me from that nightmare? Would I have thought of Casnar, of Rielus, of Alain and Valdemar, if I had not met them? Would I have found the courage I needed to go on? I didn’t want to think of the alternative. My stride faltered as my eyes searched the shadow of the Jeralls that hung along the northern horizon behind me. If the four of you were with me in there, thank you, thank all of you. And thank Akatosh for sending you to me.

When I turned my gaze back south, I could see the dark form of Sai waiting for me a few paces away. The white tip of his tail rose over his back and waved slowly when I smiled at him. And thank you, Sai the Lucky, for sending this dog to me.

A white form appeared on the knoll ahead of us, shimmering in the flurry of snowflakes. As Blanco approached us at a slow walk, I frowned at the yellow glow beyond him. Didn’t I bank that fire before we left camp? Have bandits reclaimed it already?

Blanco’s calm demeanor steadied my rattled nerves as he stopped before me. As he did at Sancre Tor, the stallion sniffed me over quite thoroughly, though he kept stopping at every other breath to blow hard. I rubbed his nose fondly after the fourth snort. “I know, we stink. But that place was full of zombies! You’d stink too if you went in there with us!”

Blanco tossed his head as if agreeing, then wrapped his neck around my left side to sniff at my pack. Then he swiped the side of his head against my shoulder, nearly knocking me over. Am I glad you’re back, stinky as you are! I could almost hear his voice whispering in my mind, humor tinging its tone.

“Well, let me change out of these stinky clothes then,” I said, pushing him aside and heading toward the fire. Sai and Blanco exchanged sniffs, then the dog floated past me. He stopped just on the edge of the firelight, and I saw his hackles bristle as he dropped his head.

Through the thickening snow, I soon made out the form of a man, shrouded in a fur cloak over leather tunic and leggings. He set a kettle over the fire and glanced up. I recognized the weathered face of Hugh Berennus. Beyond, I could see the white blaze against the dark silhouette that was his horse, Vinnie.

“Welcome back, Julian,” Berennus’s smile was warmer than the fire. “You look worse for wear. I’ve put some klah on the fire, it’ll warm you right up.”

A snarl at my left side drew our attention to Sai. He still regarded the Legion rider suspiciously, though he had not moved from the spot. I tried to recall how the dog handlers of Legio Ten calmed their charges whenever the dogs took exception to fellow Legion soldiers. “Hush, Sai,” I touched his ears. “He’s a friend.”

The dog fell silent, but did not move as I approached the fire. He kept his blue eyes on Berennus while I lowered the pack to a nearby boulder and sheathed my katana. I regarded the rider for a few moments as he busied himself with the pewter cups.

“By any chance Berennus, did you hit Sai when you fought those bandits?”

He glanced up at me, his dark gaze mildly offended. “No, I didn’t. The dog was milling around, and one of the bandits hit him trying to get at me.” His eyes lowered to the dog opposite the campfire. “But I’m not surprised he hates me. After all, I killed his master.”

“Not a very good master,” I remarked, sitting heavily on another boulder next to Berennus. “That dog’s almost as bony as the skeletons we met inside the ruin!”

Berennus sent me a sharp glance. “You went inside that ruin?” He waved vaguely northward before setting a haunch of venison on the spit.

Both Sai’s nose and mine twitched, almost in unison, as the smell of roasting meat wafted up into the drifting flakes. My stomach reminded me that it had been a very long time since both of us had eaten last.

“Remember I mentioned that I’ve been working with some smart people trying to end this Crisis?” I remarked, stretching my legs toward the fire.

“Yes,” Berennus nodded as he picked up the klah pot and swirled its contents thoroughly. “Any progress since then?”

It was my turn to nod. “A fair bit, actually.” I gestured toward the pack. “Apparently there’s something special buried deep in that place that would be of some value in the effort.”

Berennus’s gaze moved from me to the pack. “And you survived? So many adventurers have gone in there, and so few have come back.” He shook his head as he filled the two pewter mugs, handing one off to me. “The few who did told me they found nothing but cursed undead in there.” He shrugged as I sipped at the steaming black fluid. “The last one turned back when he saw a goblin among the surface ruins. Told me he wasn’t about to go up against a whole tribe of them alone.”

“I don’t blame him,” I managed to keep the lingering terror out of my voice. “It wasn’t a pleasant walk on Green Emperor Way.” I met Sai’s gaze and patted my thigh, on the side away from Berennus. Still wary of the Legion rider, the husky mix skirted the edge of the firelight to my side and sat down. He never once took his gaze off of Berennus.

“I’m not sure how to get him to accept you, Berennus,” I reached out slowly and rubbed Sai’s ears gently.

“The best way to befriend a dog is through his stomach,” Berennus remarked casually, pointedly ignoring Sai. “By the way, how did you know his name was Sai?”

“I really don’t know what name he went by,” I answered, moving my fingers down to the thick fur at the nape of Sai’s neck and kneading the loose skin there. Slowly the tension seeped out of his muscles, and his stare relaxed a little, though he continued watching Berennus. “I tried to send him away, but he followed me into that ruin. So I told him he was lucky I didn’t kill him when he scared me like that.”

Berennus turned his gaze to the sky, now completely overcast. “Sai the Lucky, eh? Well, he does have the look of a Skyrim Husky about him, though the color’s not the same.”

I had to agree. The Skyrim Huskies I had met during my posting up north were mostly black, grey and white dogs, quick and agile. Sai’s brown coloring, so suggestive of sweetened xocoatl imported from Elsweyr, certainly did not originate from the snowy wilds of Skyrim. They certainly weren’t as quick to take the offensive against bigger enemies as Sai had been.

“So Sai the Lucky was useful in that place?” Berennus’s question brought me back to the present. I leaned my elbows on my knees and cradled the cooling mug in both hands, turning my eyes to the fire.

“More than I ever imagined he would be,” I drained the last of the klah. “I never fought with the war dogs in Legio Ten, but now I understand why those soldiers would die for their dogs.”

After a moment’s silence, Berennus rose to his feet and bent over the venison. He sliced off a large chunk of it and tossed it in Sai’s direction, then cut smaller portions. As Sai tore into the roast, muttering under his breath, Berennus handed me one of the laden pewter plates. We ate in silence. I wasn’t surprised that I finished before he did.

Amusement flickered through Berennus’s face as he gestured a suggestion for me to help myself to seconds. I didn’t need much more encouragement. By the time I returned to my seat, Sai had placed himself between Berennus and me, watching the Legion rider expectantly this time.

“Looks like you’ve got a new friend, Berennus,” I managed to comment before stuffing my face with roast venison again.

[SubRosa]

Would I have found the courage I needed to go on?
Once again, you have done an excellent job of making the Fab Four not mere opponents to defeat and move on, but rather real people, who have had a profound impact upon Julian.

I keep seeing the name Berennus, and imagining him throwing his sword upon a pair of scales and declaring "Vae Victus!". Although granted, he does have an extra 'e' at the beginning of his name than the Celt who sacked Rome. He was also much a much more pleasant dinner companion for Julian than the Romans!

[Acadian]

What a lovely snowfall and winter night you describe!

Great attention to Sai and Blanco, as the friends they are.

I thought is was a wonderful idea to have that Legion rider at Julian’s camp! I love encountering them as we travel. I did not recall/connect his name to being a Legion rider, so I thank you for the perfectly inserted gentle reminder within a paragraph or two of identifying that Julian knew him by name.

The roast venison hit the spot, thanks!

[Grits]

“Welcome back, Julian,” Berennus’s smile was warmer than the fire. “You look worse for wear. I’ve put some klah on the fire, it’ll warm you right up.”

I enjoyed the snowy walk back to camp, and it was even better with some pleasant company at the end.


“So Sai the Lucky was useful in that place?” Berennus’s question brought me back to the present. I leaned my elbows on my knees and cradled the cooling mug in both hands, turning my eyes to the fire.

“More than I ever imagined he would be,” I drained the last of the klah. “I never fought with the war dogs in Legio Ten, but now I understand why those soldiers would die for their dogs.”

I love this understated way of saying how bad it was in the ruin, as well as Berennus’ calm response. It’s perfectly fitting that Sai should get the first chunk of roast venison.

[ghastley]

The camp is the end point of a Legion Patrol, and it's never made sense to me why the patrolman didn't make use of the camp before turning round (except that the AI's easier that way, and they were just being lazy). Thanks for fixing that.

Sai's acting just the same with Berennus as he did with Julian. Distrust until proven innocent. Not many writers would keep their animal characters that consistent.

[haute ecole rider]

@SubRosa: Actually, the inspiration for Hugh Berennus is Hugh Beringar, the Deputy Sheriff from Brother Cadfael's mysteries. At least three different actors have played him, but this one remains my favorite.

@Acadian: In the very first draft, and one of many scenes I cut before posting, Julian actually met Berennus on her first trip to Kvatch. They got on well enough, to the point that he showed her how to clean Paint's hooves. After that, every time they met on the road, they rode together. So there's that friendship that comes through here.

@Grits: Berennus is probably like most soldiers - a sucker for a good dog.

@ghastley: You're welcome! I always thought that was a great place for a Legion rider to stop and take a break, give his poor horse a rest.

Though Julian is anxious to leave Miscarcand behind, she has to rest sometime! Better a little late than never, right?

************************
Chapter 28.10: A Day of Rest

Berennus returned to his patrol after we shared breakfast. The single cup of the klah he brewed, as strong as it was, kept me awake just long enough to manage minor repairs to my mail and to sharpen Touch. I spent the next several hours asleep, with Blanco standing guard just outside the big tent. Sai curled up in the open doorway, oblivious to the still-falling snow.

I woke to the late afternoon, groggy from nearly twenty-four hours of dungeon crawling. Sai’s brown coat had considerably more white on it, and the temperature was colder. A weak sun cast a faint roseate glow on Blanco’s white coat where he stood slant-hipped beside the banked fire.

My stomach grumbled loudly at being ignored for so long. Sai opened his eyes, then shook the light snow from his fur as he rose to his feet. With a loud yawn, he stretched his forelegs in front of him, then his hind limbs. His tail waved as I stood and engaged in a similar exercise.

With the brown wool cloak wrapped around me, I stepped out into the fresh-fallen snow. Around me the world looked like a bakery shop, with sugary snow sparkling atop shrubs, trees and grasses alike. Blanco turned his dark gaze on me before he shook his mane and pawed briefly at the ground.

It’s just a light dusting, I surveyed the snow cover. Nowhere near as heavy as at Bruma. The road should be fine. A glance behind the tent revealed my guess to be correct. If I pack up and leave now, we should reach Skingrad shortly after dark. I looked down at Sai, standing beside me, his blue gaze scanning the surrounding countryside. Or I can just take another night here. That tent’s not too shabby - definitely better than the one I had in the Legion!

Again I regarded Blanco. He returned my gaze calmly, standing quietly without any sign of impatience. This area is safe for now, and he’s not eager to go. I moved to the tin-lined chest that rested within the dense shade of an azalea shrub. Still plenty of venison. Berennus did say he would leave enough for another day. Somehow I felt pleased that he had kept his word.

“Well, Sai,” I remarked to the dog who had shadowed me around the camp. “Looks like venison again tonight.” His tail waved with a little more vigor as I drew out the roasted haunch. “I’m going to warm it up, but I bet you won’t mind if your share is cold.”

Sai didn’t mind. Blanco wandered off and began grazing around the camp after I gave him another handful of grain. It’s not yet cold enough to put the blanket on him, I mused silently. His coat was thick and plush enough for me to bury my fingers within it. It made him look plump, though he had little but hard muscle beneath the winter coat. I’ll cover him if the wind picks up. The air was silent, adding to the enchantment of the powdered snow. I couldn’t stop thinking about the almond crescent cookies so popular in Skyrim around Saturalia.

I’ll have to see if they make those in Bruma. Orania can tell me. A sudden thought raised the question of the future. Will I be in Bruma for Saturalia? How close are we to finding the Amulet of Kings? Didn’t Martin say there were four items needed? The Great Welkynd stone would make three. Wonder what the fourth one would be?

I stopped at an abrupt realization. I haven’t thought about my future in a long time. It’s always been about getting through the day. Even when Captain Steffan and I spoke about the Mages Guild, I didn’t really think about what would happen once my obligation to Uriel Septim was completed. I didn’t believe there was a life ahead for me.

Suddenly breathless, I sat down as the old Emperor’s careworn face drifted into my vision. I remembered again the kindness in his hazel eyes as he spoke to me, a filthy, despicable addict sick with skooma deprivation.

And look at me now, fully healed, back to my old fighting condition, and dedicated to his son. Am I truly the Son’s Companion as Uriel had called me? I’ve spent more time away from Martin’s side. Baurus is closer to him than I am. I shook my head. But I’m the one gathering the elements Martin needs. I’m the one Martin trusts with the most difficult tasks. And I haven’t let him down. So far.

So what will I do once the Dragonfires are lit? I leaned back. I earned all the recommendations I need to enter the Arcane University. Would I make a good healer, like Captain Steffan had said? My gaze drifted to Sai. Why do I doubt my own skill for it? I’ve healed that dog three times. And I’ve been glad to do it.

I also considered my growing alchemy skill. I’m not at the same level as Sigrid or Orania yet, but I’m better than I used to be. I wonder if there is a future for me. For the first time in years, I felt something strange rise within my core. What is this? Hope? Confidence? Faith? When I still have a dangerous road ahead of me? But we are so much closer to realizing an end to this damned Oblivion Crisis then when I brought Martin to Weynon Priory.

Yes, I can dare to hope for a future. I can dare to look forward to Saturalia for the first time in years. I have a place to call home, and friends - no, family among my Blades brothers and sisters. My gaze returned to Sai as he munched contentedly on the cold venison. He paused in his chewing and his blue eyes flickered at me.

And Captain Steffan. How did this happen? When did he become more than just a fellow Blade, just my commanding officer? I searched my memory. When did I start falling in love with this man? The smell of the venison on the fire reminded me of my empty stomach. I moved to the spit and removed my dinner, returning to my rocky seat. No, don’t think about him. Not now. Not ever. No one can ever know my feeling for him, especially Captain Steffan himself. I forced my mind to go blank as I dug into the meat.

Once I had made certain our bellies were full, Blanco’s of grain and grass, Sai’s and mine with venison, I returned to the tent and sleep.

When I woke next, it was predawn. The eastern sky glowed softly against the black horizon, a premonition of a clear and sunny day ahead. Snow is likely to melt away by noon, I regarded the light dusting on the shrubbery, already glistening with melt. The temperature felt warmer than it had yesterday.

This time, Blanco pawed restlessly at the ground after I gave him his morning grain. He paced around the small camp and paused often to look at the cobblestoned road with an intent gaze. You’re ready to head back, aren’t you? There’s Lotte and Lena at the Grateful Pass Stables, and Rider Remus’s Mira east of Skingrad. And let’s not forget about Jasmine back in Cloud Ruler Temple. I wondered briefly how he knew I had needed the extra day of rest. This morning I felt much more invigorated, and Sai had a bounce in his movement that was missing yesterday.

Packing up the camp took only a few moments. Only the marrow bone remained of the venison, and I wrapped it up in several pieces of parchment and stowed it into the travel pack. Then I stopped and looked at Sai. “Are you coming along with us, or are you going to stay here?” His feet shifted in the classic happy dog dance, bringing a smile to my face.

West, through the trees surrounding the camp, I could see the ruined crown of the mesa that was Kvatch. The pall of smoke no longer hung over the ruined walls, but the scorched earth was still evident in the growing morning light. Waves of gold and red autumn foliage cascaded around its lower slopes and obscured the meadow where the refugee camp still lay. Berennus had mentioned the supply train from Skingrad had arrived a few weeks ago. Apparently Count Hassildor had wasted little time getting aid to the survivors of that first, horrific Oblivion Gate.

Before much longer, we were eastbound along the Gold Road. Blanco moved with a high-stepping stride, his head up and ears pricked forward. Below, Sai wove from one side of the road to the other, white-tipped tail dancing arabesques above his back as he examined every rock and shrub along the road.

[Acadian]

What a lovely respite for Julian and her crew!

’My stomach grumbled loudly at being ignored for so long.’
This got me excited, then the warm venison that followed made me happy.

’With a loud yawn, he stretched his forelegs in front of him, then his hind limbs. His tail waved as I stood and engaged in a similar exercise.’
Now puleeeze don’t change this!!! When I read it the first time, it conjured an image of Julian waving her tail along with Sai. After reading it again, I was crestfallen to realize that of course you meant that Julian stretched similarly to Sai, while he wagged his tail. What a delight, regardless.

It was wonderful being inside Julian’s head for this episode as her thoughts meandered across her wonderful four legged friends to Uriel, Martin and other two legged friends whose of interwoven destinies danced in her head like Saturalia pastries.

And a future.

No wonder her thoughts turned to Captain Steffan. My advice? Unlike elves, humans live for too short a time to keep such feelings hidden. I know old habits die hard, but sometimes ya just have to step out onto the dance floor.

I quite loved how she tuned both her decision to layover another day, then to leave the day after to Blanco’s advice – which he rendered so clearly.

And it’s on the road again after a well deserved rest for our Dynamic Duo Terrific Trio.

[D.Foxy]

Julian, regarding your thoughts about your Captain -

Just shut up your thoughts - and go and kiss him!

[SubRosa]

Isn't that Sean Pertwee? Cadfael looks interesting. Netflix has a bunch of them, so I think I'll give them a whirl.

Around me the world looked like a bakery shop
This was a wonderful description.

we should reach Skingrad shortly after dark.
Just in time to meet Vigge in bed!

I loved the mention of crescent cookies. I believe the first time I ever heard of them was when I read Wicca: A Guide for the Solitary Practitioner by Scott Cunningham. I never have been much of a cook, but I did make them once.

It was wonderful to find Julian actually stopping to think about the future, and to realize that she has a future. I would expect that she would just be given another assignment after the Oblivion Crisis however. She is a Blade now. Just as she when she was in the Legion, she is government issue. Unless you can just quit the Blades whenever you want? I would expect they would have terms of enlistment, just as any other service. Given her relationship with Martin, she probably could write her own ticket out if she wanted it however.

I can see why Julian does not want to complicate her life with Steffan. With him being her senior officer, it would create all sorts of issues, starting with accusations of her sleeping her way to the top, and just going downhill from there. OTOH, if she does quit the Blades, that problem would be solved. But seeing that he never seems to leave Cloud Ruler, well, that would again put him out of reach. *sigh* At least she is not the only character with romance problems.

[Grits]

What a lovely camp day with just enough snow to make it pretty. I enjoyed Julian’s musings about the future, as they gave a clear picture of her current state of mind. She’s looking forward to the holidays with her Blades family, even while she tries to ignore her feelings for Captain Steffan. She can imagine an end to the Oblivion crisis, which will end her obligation to Uriel Septim. She’s as fit as she once was, with new skills that make her the best qualified out of the Blades to chase through ruins after Martin’s trinkets. She has options, and hope. Plus she has a Witchhorse and a joyful dog.

What could go wrong?

[haute ecole rider]

@Acadian: I knew that both you and Julian are long overdue for a meal. I'm glad you found it as fulfilling as she did! I agree with your advice to just step out on the dance floor, but Julian's got too many other things on her mind. Duty and honor first, that's what she's about right now. Stubborn woman. Blanco's ability to size up Julian's condition is part of his mystique as a Witchhorse, as well as his affinity for all things enchanted. Thank you for picking up on her thoughts of a future. It's the first time she really allowed herself to truly believe that she does have a future.

@Foxee: If only! But she is as stubborn as the Jeralls are tall!

@SubRosa: Yes, that's Sean Pertwee. Loved him in the Cadfael mysteries. I think you might enjoy them as well, if not only for Derek Jacobi's excellent acting, but also for the wortcraft and botanical knowledge that plays such a big part in this medieval CSI series. I have twelve episodes on DVD and pull them out every now and then. Sean Pertwee played Beringar in the first four episodes. Using a bakery motif came naturally at this point, since both Julian and I were hungry at the time I wrote this! I wanted to point up her hunger as the filter that colors her perception of a magically changed world that always comes with that first snowfall. As for her romance problems, things will only get stickier!

@Grits: I think you've just jinxed our white-headed Redguard, Witchhorse, and joyful dog with that last comment of yours!

The story so far: Leaving Miscarcand behind, Julian makes her way back to Cloud Ruler Temple. On the way, she finds that a forgotten decision has unexpected consequences.

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Chapter 28.11: Skingrad Bandits

The ride back to Skingrad was mostly uneventful, until we reached the point where the road snaked past Fat Rump Camp and the still-smoldering remains of the Gate. The tortured face of the maimed Redguard bandit I had encountered then resurfaced in my memory as I passed the black talons that marked the site.

Sai halted in front of us, his hackles bristling. At the same time, Blanco’s head shot up, and he turned to face the ridge to our left. From behind a rock, a Dunmer clad in battered leathers appeared, bow drawn and arrow tip aimed at my face.

“Who are you?” Anger colored his tone, while Sai stepped stiffly toward him. “What are you doing with Marcus’s dog?”

“Marcus?” I repeated, searching my memory. “Who’s Marcus?”

“Marcus Cimber!” The Dunmer lowered his arrow slightly. “That’s his dog!”

“Is he?” I glanced down at Sai. “He chose to travel with me. I know of no Marcus Cimber.”

“Marcus is dead, isn’t he?” Grief warred with fury in the ashen face as the bow drooped further.

One of the bandits at Ra’sava? “If he was at Ra’sava camp recently,” I answered slowly, “there’s a good chance you’re right.”

“She killed Marcus!” A Redguard woman burst from the tall shrubs behind the Dunmer, a battle axe raised high over one shoulder. Before I could react, she was past Sai and swinging that crescent blade toward Blanco’s left shoulder.

The stallion’s reflexes were swifter than mine. He sidestepped the blow, then spun on his hocks toward her. I grabbed the pommel of the saddle to keep my seat as Blanco reared up. His striking forefeet sent the woman reeling away, her axe momentarily forgotten on the cobblestones.

“Stand off, Dalia!” The Dunmer’s voice held unmistakable command. “Look at the rider! Look at her!”

I checked Blanco with the reins when he made to follow her, remembering how he had pressed the attack against that mountain lion. He snorted and pawed the cobblestones with fierce emphasis.

The Redguard staggered upright to lock gazes with me, ignoring the blood streaming from her nose. Tears brimmed in her dark eyes as she stared at me.

“You killed Daron, too,” she said, her tone softer this time.

“Daron’s her brother,” the Dunmer’s voice drew my attention back to him. “You gave him mercy a few weeks ago.”

Again the maimed Redguard’s visage emerged behind my vision. Involuntarily I glanced over my shoulder at the remains of the Gate. “I had no reason to deny him his wish,” I answered. Dalia wiped the tears and the blood away from her mouth.

“We saw,” she said quietly as Blanco relaxed beneath me, his ears still tipped warily toward her. She gestured toward the countryside beyond the Dunmer’s shoulder. “Enar and I saw it all. We saw how you cut those monsters down. Saw how you were about to heal him, but he stopped you.” Her voice caught.

“We tried to come to their aid,” the Dunmer added, the arrow now denocked. He slid it home into his hip quiver. “But we were busy with our own problems,” he jerked a thumb over his shoulder. Off in the distance, I could see the now-familiar spikes and thunderclouds that marked another Oblivion Gate.

I felt a frown cross my face. I don’t remember seeing that before. “Is it still a problem for you?”

“Every few days some monsters come out of it,” the Dunmer shrugged. “They’re getting worse, now. Dalia and I are the only ones left.”

I glanced at Dalia, and realized that Blanco still stood over her weapon. I nudged the stallion backwards until I could see the crescent blade in front of him. I can close that Gate, but should I? I need to get this stone back to Martin. I can’t take the risk that this would be the Gate I die in. Not anymore. “Best you move on, then,” I commented as Dalia edged forward to pick up her weapon.

Dalia hesitated, meeting my gaze again. “But where would we go?” I heard old despair in her voice. “We’re nothing, unwelcome in Skingrad. That Captain Dion would as soon chase us out the minute we walk in the city gates.”

“You know how to survive out here,” I glanced from her to the Dunmer. “There’s a place that has need of folks who are willing to work hard for little more than a warm fire, a place out of the snow, and regular meals.”

“Work?” The Dunmer’s eyes turned suspicious. “What kind of work?”

“Clean up,” I replied. “And rebuilding.” I nodded at the bow still in his hand. “If you’re a good hunter, they can use what game you can bring in. You can’t be too squeamish about the dead.”

Both bandits regarded me with growing comprehension. “You mean - Kvatch?” The Dunmer’s eyes flickered over the Wolf I still wore on my chest.

“If you’re willing to give honest life a try,” I nodded. “I’m certain they’ll be willing to give you the chance. You’ll have to prove yourself trustworthy, of course.”

Hope flickered through their eyes, then the Dunmer shook his head. “No, they’ll never trust us. It’ll be just like Skingrad.”

I regarded him thoughtfully. He’s got a point. The two of them are so scruffy looking, and with their weapons, they reek of banditry. But if they want an honest life, who am I to deny them a chance at it? “Do you want to die as bandits?” I asked them. “How much longer do you think you can stand out against that Gate? Believe me, you can’t go far in the wilderness without bumping into another one.”

Blanco tensed as Dalia bent down to her weapon. Slowly she straightened back up, slung the axe at her shoulder, and backed away from the stallion, her eyes averted the entire time. When she stood beside the Dunmer, she met my gaze once more. Sai sat down beside Blanco as the two bandits studied me silently.

“How can we have an honest life?” Dalia’s tone became mildly challenging. “We have no land, and only six drakes between us.” She jerked her head at the Dunmer beside her. “Enar’s almost out of arrows, and our repair hammers are all broken.”

I swung my right leg over Blanco’s neck and slid to the ground. “I’m serious. If you were given the opportunity to start over again and live an honest life, would you take it?”

“Are you offering us an opportunity?” Enar responded suspiciously.

“I think I know how you can start over,” I answered evenly. “But if I’m going to vouch for you, I need to feel confident that you won’t let me down.”

Dalia glanced at Enar, her left hand seeking his right. He regarded me a moment longer. “We have only our word to give as assurance,” he said finally. His eyes flickered to the Redguard woman beside him. “Mine and Dalia’s.”

I dropped Blanco’s rein and made my way up the side of the knoll to stand before them. I made certain to stop just slightly downhill, so that I was eye to eye with Enar. He straightened up under my stare. When I turned my gaze to Dalia, she tightened her jaw and swallowed before giving me a short nod. Neither of them looked away from me.

“What names do you go by,” I glanced from her to him. “Dalia and Enar?”

“Enar Baro,” the Dunmer corrected me. Dalia nodded confirmation.

I turned back to Blanco and dug into his saddlebags until I found the parchment board, quill and inkstone. With the writing gear in my hand, I moved to a nearby rock and sat down. With a little water from my canteen, I ground the hilt of my dagger to make a small puddle of black ink on the surface of the stone.

The two bandits drew near as I began writing on the top sheet of parchment, but kept silent. Sai moved to sit between me and the pair, his blue gaze steady on them.

Matius and Boldon, I wrote. Please accept Enar Baro and Dalia under your supervision. They have need of an opportunity to start a new life, and are willing to work hard for a second chance. I will leave it up to you to decide where best to use them, so long as it keeps them from a life of banditry. They have lost much, and have only each other and their skills.

I signed it and folded the parchment into quarters. And what if they run into Hugh Berennus on the way? They will figure out that he killed this Marcus Cimber. I looked up at them. “Put any thought of vengeance against Marcus’s killer out of your minds.”

“If you didn’t kill him, then a Legion patrol must have,” Baro rejoined softly with a shrug. “As unfortunate as it is, they would have been doing their job.” He exchanged a meaningful glance with Dalia. “Can’t blame ‘em.”

I bent back to the parchment board. Berennus, if you meet Enar Baro and Dalia on the road, please escort them safely to the Kvatch road, only as long as they are not breaking any laws. My thanks, Julian of Anvil.

After folding the second, I wrote the names of the intended recipients on both parchments. As Druja had taught me, I used a tiny flare to dry the inkstone. Then I held the folded notes to Baro. “You may meet a Legion rider on the Gold Road past Ra’sava Camp,” I said as the Dunmer took the notes. He glanced quizzically at me. “His name is Hugh Berennus. Keep your hands away from your weapons and give him this note if you do.” I met Dalia’s eyes. “Like you said, he was doing his job. Don’t threaten him, and don’t even think about avenging Cimber’s death.” I locked gazes with her. “If I hear you pulled your weapons on him, I’ll come after you myself, if you’re still alive.”

“If we are to have a second chance,” Baro drew my attention back to him. “We will forget our bandit’s ways. The Legion will not harm us as long as we are honest, no?”

“Enar, have you forgotten -“ Dalia began to protest, but stopped at a sharp gesture from him. I glanced at her again.

“I know not every Legion soldier acts ethically,” I addressed her, but I knew Enar was listening as intently as the Redguard woman. “Yet Berennus is as honorable as they come. If you present yourselves as poor travelers on your way to Kvatch to offer what help you can, he’ll see that you make it safely there, Oblivion Gates or no.”

Dalia nodded her understanding as Baro examined the notes. “And this Matius and Boldon?”

“When you get to the refugee camp at the base of the mesa,” I answered his unspoken question, “ask for Savlian Matius or Boldon. They’re in charge. Give either of them that note. I’m certain they’ll find something for you to do.” Now I looked from Baro to Dalia. “Be warned, though. They’re still clearing out and burning bodies.”

“We’ve been doing that too,” Dalia squared her shoulders. “We won’t quail at more.”

**********************
A/N: I've always been bothered by the suicidal tendencies of the bandits one encounters on the road and in the wilderness. Why do they hate everyone so much? I figure most of them turn to banditry not by choice, but by unfortunate events in their lives. I keep promising myself that one of these days I will write a story that explores life from a bandit's POV. That's why I was delighted to see Grits treat these unfortunates with such compassion and dignity in Jerric's Story, and like her, I have always thought that Kvatch would be a fantastic opportunity for such folks. While it may seem like I'm borrowing a page from Grits's book, I propose that this post is merely proof that great minds really do think alike . . .

[Kazaera]

A/N: I've always been bothered by the suicidal tendencies of the bandits one encounters on the road and in the wilderness. Why do they hate everyone so much? I figure most of them turn to banditry not by choice, but by unfortunate events in their lives. I keep promising myself that one of these days I will write a story that explores life from a bandit's POV. That's why I was delighted to see Grits treat these unfortunates with such compassion and dignity in Jerric's Story, and like her, I have always thought that Kvatch would be a fantastic opportunity for such folks. While it may seem like I'm borrowing a page from Grits's book, I propose that this post is merely proof that great minds really do think alike . . .

Do I ever hear you! I've been annoyed by the same thing in Morrowind... especially when it comes to the smugglers. At least bandits are meant to attack people, but the "oops, wrong cave? you stumbled into our hide-out now DIE" tendencies of people who in some cases seem to only be smuggling food and crockery with no drugs nor slaves in sight never cease to confuse me. And as you rightly point out even for bandits it's pretty weird behaviour ("hey, gang, let's attack the fully armed and armoured Hero of Kvatch who's closing Oblivion Gates and fighting Daedra all over, that's sure to go swimmingly!" "what, asking them to hand over their money? Being stealthy? who cares about that, ATTAAAAACK") and totally ignores possible backstories and motivations...

Suffice it to say, I don't think you're stealing at all, I think this is a point where a lot of writers probably go "wait, hang on a minute, what's the story behind this?" And your answer to that question is really a good one! I loved all of this scene, from the connection to another bandit band (to the point where they recognise a member's dog!) and wanted revenge, to their mistrust of Julian and cynicism clashing with their desire for a better life... Enar and Dalia really came alive here. I also loved Julian's wanting to close the Oblivion Gate but realising that she has a more important duty and can't afford to waste time or get herself killed when Martin's counting on her.

...although I admit I forgot who Daron was. >>

[Grits]

I can close that Gate, but should I? I need to get this stone back to Martin. I can’t take the risk that this would be the Gate I die in. Not anymore.

Julian shows another aspect that makes her the best choice for Martin’s needs. I think that a lot of people who would be driven to enter a Gate would not be able to pass one by when that is what’s required. That Gate also shows how the crisis is escalating. Also now we know that daedra are venturing out occasionally, but not flooding the countryside.


Writing about the bandits, a person has to decide if they’re all the game’s homicidal maniacs, or if there’s something else going on. We share an idea about what the something else might be, along with probably lots of other folks. I like your great minds proposal because it elevates my mind to greatness.

I’m delighted to see Baro and Dalia get a second chance at Kvatch. As Julian put it:

“There’s a place that has need of folks who are willing to work hard for little more than a warm fire, a place out of the snow, and regular meals.”

I think that bandits who were just trying to survive would take that chance. Those that steal because it‘s easier or more profitable than work, wouldn’t. We know enough about Julian to trust her judgment of Baro and Dalia.


The ride back to Skingrad was mostly uneventful, until we reached the point where the road snaked past Fat Rump Camp and the still-smoldering remains of the Gate.

I like your name for that camp better than the game’s.

[SubRosa]

Julian's romance is going to get stickier? Who pulled out the duct tape!

Yay for Blanco and the mezair! That is something that old Paint, as much I love him, could never have done.

I really enjoyed Julian talking with the bandits rather than having the obligatory battle and killing both. You did wonderful job of presenting them as real people, rather than just nameless opponents as they are in the game. Their recognition of Sai, Dalia being the brother of the Redguard bandit from before, and even the second gate, it all adds up very convincingly.

Julian sending them to Kvatch was simply brilliant. Not only does she remove two bandits from the road, but she also helps the city rebuild. Certainly much better than simply killing both!


nits:
until we reached the point where the road snaked past Fat Rump Camp
In the game it is Fat Ramp Camp. But I don't think you should change it. Rump sounds much better, and makes more sense.