Old Habits Die Hard Part Five, New habits? Or just old ones recycled? Options

[haute ecole rider]

@mALX: I really enjoyed writing Julian as a child, especially with the books. Here we see how she came by her way of speaking, and her vocabulary - she was a bookworm like me! Only now, with both of us losing our eyesight to old age, has it become more of a chore . . .

@SubRosa: Like I told mALX, I really enjoyed writing Julian’s flashbacks. Her interactions with Traven as a child just made me chuckle as I was writing them. And yes, Carahil is one of the coolest chicks evah!

@Acadian: The thoughts about the sigil stones came about as Julian was telling me her story. It was one of those ‘hmmmm’ moments.

@TK: Carahil is still pretty much by the book, it’s just tempered with compassion and kindness. So Little Julian is now a Princess for you? She’s blushing!

@Olen: It’s surprising how much things went over my head when I was little, but when I revisit them, it’s facepalm time! And don’t worry, you’ll learn more about Jared eventually (like about the eleventh segment).

The Countess of Anvil, though she doesn’t have much to say in-game, always struck me as a kind, gentle soul. She is the kind of woman that founds orphanages and widow’s homes for the people of Anvil.

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Chapter 23.6: Meeting with the Countess of Anvil

“Good morning, ma’am.” The two guardsmen greeted me warmly with smiles barely visible in the fog as I stepped through Chapelgate. The odors of the salt flats hit me before I saw the smooth water of the inlet separating the castle from Anvil’s walls. I murmured a response to the guardsmen before I started across the narrow stone bridge leading to the castle gate.

A Dunmer boy stood in the tall portal leading to the castle courtyard and peered through the thick fog. “Good morning, Midave Sendal,” I greeted him as soon as I recognized his slight figure. He jumped slightly at my voice and straightened his thin shoulders. “Is it seven bells already?”

“No, ma’am,” he brushed that wayward lock from his ruby eyes and bowed with a little more deliberation than he had yesterday. “You’re early.”

“Are you waiting for someone else, then?” I paused beside him, locking gazes with him. Sendal looked away and shifted his feet.

“No, I was waitin’ for you, ma’am,” he responded. “I thought you might be early.”

“You thought right,” I smiled at him. “Lead on, Sendal.”

“Have you had breakfast yet?” The boy glanced back over his shoulder at me as he took the lead.

“Yes, I did, thanks.”

Sendal and I passed through the courtyard, filled with blooming orange and lemon trees, forsythia bushes, and roses. Jasmine vines twined up trellises that flanked the main entrance into the keep. Sendal kept glancing back at me, as if making certain he hadn’t lost me. He paused when we reached the double doors that led into the county hall, seeming to work up some courage. “Is it true you’re from here?”

“Yes, it’s true.” I pointed beyond the eastern castle walls. “I grew up on that old farm on the bluff overlooking the mouth of the Strid River.”

“That old Gweden place?” Sendal’s eyes grew wide. “But that place’s haunted!”

“Haunted?” I repeated, pushing away the old grief. “It wasn’t haunted when I lived there.”

“No one wants to claim it,” Sendal volunteered, placing his hand on the huge iron ring of the left hand panel. “It’s been empty all these years.” He tugged at the door, leaning his weight back on his heels. The door began to swing slowly. I reached forward and laid my hand beside his, but he shouldered me away. “I got it, ma’am,” he said. I heard the fierce pride in his voice and smiled to myself.

Not one to let your small size get in the way, are you? I rather liked Sendal’s determination to pull his own weight, but wondered how much of it had been forged by teasing about his height. I hadn’t forgotten how cruel children could be to each other. “You’re stronger than you seem,” I remarked as the door finally groaned open. “I apologize for thinking otherwise.”

Apparently I hit the right note with Sendal, for his somber face brightened in that brilliant white smile. “’Tis all right!” He bowed low and waved for me to precede him, as if I was a court lady dressed all in velvet instead than the old soldier in simple linens. I waited inside the brightly lit entrance hall while he dragged the heavy door closed, shutting out the dampness of the sea mist.

Braziers kept the air within dry and warm. The hall was bright with hangings made, not of heavy tapestry as I expected, but rather of delicate Valenwood hand-knotted lace. The lightweight material swayed like spider webs in the thermal drafts created by the braziers. That lace must cost a fortune. There’s a lot of it.

“If you would follow me, please,” once again Sendal took the lead. We moved at a quiet but efficient pace through the antechamber into the county hall beyond. Ahead, two thrones of white ash stood empty, and their turquoise cushions glimmered brilliantly. In the high ceiling above, clerestory windows at the base of a dome admitted the grey daylight. I looked around, but the hall was empty.

“Where is the Countess, Sendal?” I asked when he moved toward the stairs leading up to the mezzanine across the back of the hall. He glanced back at me.

“Milady’s at breakfast, ma’am. She asks that you join her, even if it’s just for a cup of klah.”

My strides faltered slightly. A private audience? First Count Skingrad, now Countess Anvil? Is this the beginning of a trend? “Very well, Sendal,” I hid my surprise. “Lead on.”

He brought me through a passage that ran directly toward private chambers located at the seaward side of the castle. We entered a suite consisting of two large rooms, airy thanks to the large floor-to-ceiling windows that lined the south wall. More of that hand-knotted lace draped between the windows, and shutters were neatly folded back against the walls.

Sendal led me past the sleeping alcove and the four-poster bed of white ash and creamy silks. I saw little more than an impression of white with turquoise accents before Sendal led me through a doorway onto a balcony. Beyond, the thinning fog drifted past the balustrade.

I stepped onto the sky-blue and white tiled floor of the balcony and paused. Sendal stepped to my right and bowed to the Countess seated at the table. “Milady, Julian of Anvil.”

“Come, have a seat,” Millona Umbranox waved across the round surface. “Did you have breakfast yet?”

“Yes, I did, ma’am,” I inclined my head to her before obeying her tacit command.

“Then have some klah, at least,” she poured some of the black fluid into a fine bone china cup without waiting for a response. “It’s still a bit chilly out here.”

I had to agree. The steaming liquid smelled wonderful. I declined the offer of cream and sweetener and took a sip. It tasted as rich and smooth as it smelled, with none of the bitterness typical of the brew. “This is quite delicious, ma’am,” I murmured.

“It’s from the mountains of Southern Valenwood, near Greenheart,” Umbranox met my gaze. Elegant blue silk trimmed with white lace on the cuffs, bodice and skirt hem covered a still-youthful figure. Light brown hair parted in the middle framed an unlined face and swept back into an elegant bun at the nape of her neck. Light brown eyes regarded me with a calm steadiness that inspired confidence. “I understand you were posted there for a while?”

“Near Arenthia,” I took another sip of the klah. “It’s a beautiful region.”

“I’ve never been,” Countess Umbranox gazed into the depths of her cup. “You are so lucky to have seen so much of Tamriel!”

“Lucky?” I repeated. “Aye, the Legion recruiters tell you you can see all of Nirn when you sign up, but truth be told, you’re too busy soldiering to see much of the local sights.”

Umbranox smiled, and now the first hints of her true age appeared at the corners of her eyes. “I believe it!” She leaned back in her chair. “My father served as legate in the Legion, and he was gone more than not!” Her gaze sharpened on me. “Perhaps you knew him? Milonius Silvanus?”

I thought for a moment, then shook my head at the unfamiliar name. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I served in Legio Six for most of my career.”

“Well,” Umbranox spooned up some berry compote. “It was a thought.” I remained silent and waited. After a moment, she dabbed at her lips with a lace napkin and met my gaze again with those steady brown eyes. “I want to express my gratitude to you for closing that Oblivion Gate outside Anvil,” she began. Her gaze turned out to sea, now visible with the mist burned away. “I understand you’ve been seeking aid for Countess Narina Carvain of Bruma.”

Mildly startled, I nodded. “Yes, ma’am, I have.”

Umbranox smiled at my surprise. “Count Cheydinhal sent me a message. He suggested that I do not refuse your request.”

My gaze drifted to the Dunmer boy standing just past Umbranox’s shoulder. He returned my gaze expressionlessly, but there was a flicker in his red eyes. He’s from Cheydinhal? Or House Hlaalu in Morrowind?

“Ah, yes, my page is Indarys’s nephew,” Umbranox added. I blinked at her uncanny perception. “And one of my young cousins serve in his court. That is as close as I want to get to Count Indarys.”

“Sendal seems to be doing well as your page, ma’am,” I nodded at the boy. Now the Countess’s eyes saddened slightly.

“He is coping well, so far from home and family,” she responded. “With his parents and aunt dead, it’s been, ah, difficult. But it is Indarys’s hope that by serving here so far from Cheydinhal, young Midave will find his place in Cyrodiil. I intend to see that happen, if only for the boy’s sake.”

Again I glanced at Sendal. His eyes were downcast, and his skin had the purple tinge that characterized the Dunmer blush. “He’s not the sort to accept pity,” I aimed my words at him. “And I like what I’ve seen of his determination. He’ll do well, with or without your help, ma’am.” The ruby flash preceded the insouciant smile, then Sendal’s face was impassive again, befitting that of a page. I turned my gaze back to Umbranox. “So Count Indarys asked that you grant the request I make on behalf of Countess Carvain, ma’am?”

“Yes, and I’m inclined to do so,” Umbranox responded. “I can not spare a full century as he did, but I shall send eight contubernii. I hope that will be sufficient.”

“Yes, eight contubernii is most generous of you, ma’am,” I agreed.

“But what of you, Julian?” Umbranox refilled her cup before folding her hands around its warmth. “What would be reward enough for you?”

I turned my head and gazed out at the ocean, now blue in the morning sun. The fog had completely disappeared during our conversation, and the sun sparkled off the whitecapped waves below.

“That farm east of here, on the bluff -“ my voice faltered. I took a deep breath. “I understand it’s been empty these many years.”

Umbranox’s silence drew my eyes back to her. Dark brows drawn together, her face had a look of concerned bemusement. “The old Gweden homestead?” she asked. “Are you certain, Julian? I know what -“ she stopped herself. “Are you certain you want to go back there?”

I thought about it for a moment. Do I want to relive that day I found what was left of my mother and my brother? Do I want to see their blood again on the walls and floor? Do I want to smell that goblin stench again? “It’s time to put those ghosts to rest,” I spoke slowly, my eyes on the Dunmer boy. “Time to return the farm to happier times, to restore the beauty of the place.”

Umbranox regarded me for several moments more. Then she lifted a hand in a signal to Sendal. He disappeared through the door into the Countess’s quarters. “Normally I would require that you pay the back taxes on the property before I deed it to you,” she said quietly. “But no one can put a value on the service you provided us in closing that Oblivion Gate. If you are certain you want to move back to Anvil, if you are certain that you can make it a productive and happy place once more, those back taxes will be waived and the deed shall be yours.”

Sendal reappeared, a rosewood box in his hands. He set it on the table between us with a bow. As he stepped back, Umbranox opened the wide casket, drew out a parchment and laid it on the table near me. While I picked it up, she set a blue silk purse beside my cup with a soft jingle of coins.

“When you were discharged from the Legion four years ago,” Umbranox spoke softly, “apparently you left instructions that your pension payments were to be sent here. Unfortunately, you never came for them. I’ve been holding them all these years for you, in hopes that someday you would return to Anvil.” I stared at the purse. “You’ll find the amount matches that of the Legion records down to the last drake.”

[Captain Hammer]

Okay, two posts to comment on, with very different tones.

Julian's misadventures with Carahil's more...personal...book collection had me in snickering while reading. It reminded me of the shocked reaction my father had when I first tried reading through his collection of the Casca books, at the tender age of 9. He caught me before I even made it past the first page.

Secondly, Julian's meeting with the Countess of Anvil: in it, you write an excellent account of Millona Umbranox's character, as well as some more insight into the politics of Cyrodiil. Her relationship with Count Indarys is well depicted, and her governance of Anvil shows through.

Though I must say, I think Julian's time in the Deadlands has made her something other than fully human. She's now avoided two things that somebody can always count on: Death and Taxes.

[ghastley]

The "two thrones of white ash" struck me as wrong until I went and poked around in the wiki. There I found that the second throne is relocated from a storeroom to the main hall after Corvus is "revealed" so I'm assuming that's happened, but someone else is the new Grey Fox. It made sense to me that Milona would be making the point that Corvus may not be around, but nobody else is taking his place, by not leaving an empty throne next to her. She also doesn't move the one remaining to the middle, but leaves the space vacant, to imply that she does expect him back.

But if Corvus is back, wouldn't Julian then be talking to the two of them?

Incidentally I've never done the Allies quest after becoming the Grey Fox myself. Either the thief character didn't do the MQ, or they were done MQ before TG, so I've no real idea how it plays with Corvus back.

This post has been edited by ghastley: Feb 14 2011, 08:49 PM

[haute ecole rider]

The "two thrones of white ash" struck me as wrong until I went and poked around in the wiki. There I found that the second throne is relocated from a storeroom to the main hall after Corvus is "revealed" so I'm assuming that's happened, but someone else is the new Grey Fox. It made sense to me that Milona would be making the point that Corvus may not be around, but nobody else is taking his place, by not leaving an empty throne next to her. She also doesn't move the one remaining to the middle, but leaves the space vacant, to imply that she does expect him back.

But if Corvus is back, wouldn't Julian then be talking to the two of them?

Incidentally I've never done the Allies quest after becoming the Grey Fox myself. Either the thief character didn't do the MQ, or they were done MQ before TG, so I've no real idea how it plays with Corvus back.

First, I'm not playing quite true to game. If you look at the throne in Anvil (in-game), it doesn't match the description in my FF. Corvus is not present in my story, and at this point I'm undecided whether he does come back or not (Julian does not do the TG ever). As for Corvus in the game, when he returns, he never quite gets his power back. I suppose Millona has held the reins too long to give them back, and likely she doesn't trust him not to pull another disappearing act like he did the last time. So she continues running Anvil as she always did, and Corvus is stuck being decoration. He doesn't even get to share the bed with her!

[Thomas Kaira]

Homecoming indeed! I see a future very fitting of a former soldier and Champion of Cyrodiil... who wouldn't want a quiet life of farming after saving the world? I perceive Julian will be sick and tired of her celebrity status after a week when all this is over, the novelty of being fawned over wears off quite fast, especially for the unlikely hero types like our angelic-haired Redguard.

Besides, there's also horses.

I can certainly agree with you axing Corvus from your canon, Countess Umbranox really does seem to do just fine on her own.

So Julian really is going home again.... I do hope she can put to rest whatever ails her of the loss of her family. Let's just hope a certain Trio of bumbling Sirens don't realize there hidey-hole is under new management, or Julian might end up polishing her spear sharpening her sword

ARG!! DIRTY! DIRTY!! BEGONE, YOU IMPS!!!

Well, you know what I mean.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to give Sparky a scolding...

This post has been edited by Thomas Kaira: Feb 14 2011, 11:26 PM

[mALX]

The "two thrones of white ash" struck me as wrong until I went and poked around in the wiki. There I found that the second throne is relocated from a storeroom to the main hall after Corvus is "revealed" so I'm assuming that's happened, but someone else is the new Grey Fox. It made sense to me that Milona would be making the point that Corvus may not be around, but nobody else is taking his place, by not leaving an empty throne next to her. She also doesn't move the one remaining to the middle, but leaves the space vacant, to imply that she does expect him back.

But if Corvus is back, wouldn't Julian then be talking to the two of them?

Incidentally I've never done the Allies quest after becoming the Grey Fox myself. Either the thief character didn't do the MQ, or they were done MQ before TG, so I've no real idea how it plays with Corvus back.

First, I'm not playing quite true to game. If you look at the throne in Anvil (in-game), it doesn't match the description in my FF. Corvus is not present in my story, and at this point I'm undecided whether he does come back or not (Julian does not do the TG ever). As for Corvus in the game, when he returns, he never quite gets his power back. I suppose Millona has held the reins too long to give them back, and likely she doesn't trust him not to pull another disappearing act like he did the last time. So she continues running Anvil as she always did, and Corvus is stuck being decoration. He doesn't even get to share the bed with her!

GAAAAH! I didn't know that, I've only broken into their bedroom once after he returned, and he was in there - but neither of them were laying in the bed. Where does he sleep? (or is he like he was in the "Abandoned house" awake 24/7 ???)

I have done the main quest after being a thief (most of my games, actually) and he is sitting there beside her, but you speak to her.

For some reason I found it impossible to raise Corvus's opinion of my characters over 70%, whether he was the gray fox or at the throne - after all you do for him !!! Has anyone gotten him to 100% ???

[Captain Hammer]

I always brought Corvus back before getting Allies for Bruma, but the reason you talk to Millona above all else is the fact that the scripting would probably be too buggy to get the Count Umbranox to send aid to Bruma.

As for getting him to 100% disposition, I've done it, but then I also had a high personality after power-leveling my character for maxed out stats.

[SubRosa]

you’ll learn more about Jared eventually
What, that he went on to become the The Goblin King? (okay, so that was Jareth...)

So Julian's old house is haunted? By Sirens I suspect! Seriously, that was a good touch. IRL, no one wants to buy a house where someone was murdered. I doubt ES would be any different. It also leaves you a nice little thread for the future, as Julian could move back there some day. And now that I have finished the episode, I see that is exactly what you have in mind.

I love the descriptions of Castle Anvil, from the trees and flower trellises, to the lace swaying in the breeze. It definitely shows a woman's touch.

The Countess has some very interesting opinions on the Count of Cheydinhal. Such as that perhaps he murdered his wife perhaps? In any case, I loved how you tied the page Sendal into that situation.

[Acadian]

Anvil is beautiful and you present it well! The descriptions approaching and inside the castle were wonderful.

'Not one to let your small size get in the way, are you? I rather liked Sendal’s determination to pull his own weight, but wondered how much of it had been forged by teasing about his height. I hadn’t forgotten how cruel children could be to each other. “You’re stronger than you seem,” I remarked as the door finally groaned open. “I apologize for thinking otherwise.”
This says much about Julian's perceptions and what she does with them - all of it good.

I very much liked your Countess and see her very similarly!

And more glimpses into the tragedy of Julian's homestead.

I find myself wondering how long Julian will allow herself to linger in Anvil. There is so much holding her here, yet there is as much or more pulling her away. I know she will make the right choices for her.

[ghastley]

I don't know about this version of Milona Umbranox's opinion of Count Indarys, but the same throne symbolism leads me to think that Indarys had nothing to do with his wife's death. He has not removed her throne, like Countess Valga, or Regulus Terentius, who have both centered theirs as if their spouse never existed, but he's blocked it from use with a bouquet of flowers on the seat.

[Grits]

Chapter 23.5:
Again I saw Vigge the Cautious in his strained finery.
You got me to spit out my tea and throw out my donut with this line!!
I too am delighted with your vision of Carahil. She is a star!

Chapter 23.6:
The castle courtyard garden and Countess Umbranox’s airy balcony by the sea, how lovely!
Julian gets her home back with four years’ worth of back pay for a housewarming gift – it’s going to be hard to leave Anvil!!

[Olen]

You show Umbranox in an interesting light, quite believeable in her slight hypocracy. While she knows Julian (and so, I would imagine many of her citazens and their doings) and seems to care beyond that Julian just closed the gate as shown by the pension. Equally she certainly knows how to live well and spend their taxes on herself.

Still it seems Julian has just come across quite a bit of money and another house. She'll be a property tycoon soon enough.

Her reactions on going back to her old home will be powerful I suspect. But once she's cleared it out (and possibly found someone to look after it?) there's a rouge mage to take care of... and of course the world to save. She's got quite a lot on her plate.

[haute ecole rider]

@Cap’n H: Thanks for the kind words. And not to worry, Julian still isn’t exempt from property tax! As for death, that’ll come, but not in this story!

@ghastley: Thanks for the thoughts. I decided to leave things the way they are. Like Julian, I try not to read too much between the lines. So the two thrones really don’t have that much symbolism, other than the fact that Millona doesn’t believe her husband is dead. If he had died, and she had seen his body, then yes, she would have had the second throne removed.

@TK: We all know how it goes for old soldiers trying to retire - after a while the farm life starts to pall. And yes, there’s always horses!

@mALX: He he he.

@SubRosa: The haunting actually refers to Julian’s family, not the Sirens. Those women wouldn’t know a wraith if one bit them in the tush! But I wanted to show how the deaths of her family still has a lingering impact on the town of Anvil. What we saw here about the relationship between Umbranox and Indarys is but the groundwork for what comes after the MQ.

@Acadian: Sendal is one of those urchins that just wormed his way into my heart. I just couldn’t ignore his charm, and I’m glad you picked up on that. Julian thinks he’s quite the troublemaker, but in a good way. As for your sense that she is torn about staying in Anvil versus carrying out her duties, you’re quite right there. At this point, the feeling that time is running out is stronger than ever.

@Grits: Julian is like that, all serious, then throws out a poker-faced comment that just bites you in the tush!

@Olen: I think you hit the nail on the head. I don’t think Julian will be obtaining any more houses, though. The one in the Waterfront is just a handy place to stow her gear while she is traipsing all over Cyrodiil. Even though I’m playing on a console, I’m roleplaying that Gweden Farm actually becomes Julian’s farm. As for the order of events, you’re slightly backwards.

In the last chapter, Julian gets more aid for Bruma from the Countess. Now she learns of her next task for entrance into the University; this is followed by a fateful meeting.

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Chapter 23.7: Carahil and Blanco

Carahil looked up from her studying at my arrival. She smiled at me, then her green eyes sharpened at the look on my face. “Did things go well with the Countess?”

“Very well, ma’am,” I managed to keep my voice even. I still held the packet containing the deed to Gweden farm and the purse full of my pension in my hand. “Better than I expected, actually.”

“Then why the long face?” Her question brought home to me how observant the older Altmer really was. I could never tell a lie in front of her. Carahil stepped out from behind the counter and led me into the small parlor off to the right. As we sat in the comfortable chairs, I held out the deed to her.

Her slender hand brushed the long strawberry-blond bangs from her eyes as she read the script. Her tilted brows rose high, then she met my gaze. “The Countess gave you your mother’s old place?” She shook her head. “But why would you want to go back -?”

I leaned back against the cushioned back of the chair. “I’ll tell you the same thing I told her - it’s time to put those old ghosts to rest. It’s not like I have anything to fear from these particular spirits.”

“Are you certain?” Carahil handed the parchment back to me. Carefully I folded it and tucked it away into the leather packet.

Again that vision of my mother and my brother coalesced in front of my eyes before I shook it away. “Let’s just say that Akatosh sent me a message.” I hefted the blue silk purse. “And the Countess has held my pension for me all these years.”

“How much do you have there?” Carahil asked.

“About forty-five septims,” I drew a slow breath. Never in my life had I held so much gold. The look in Carahil’s wide eyes mirrored my own feelings, still stunned by the Countess’s revelation.

“That’s almost enough to buy the old Benirus manor from young Velwyn!” she exclaimed. “He’s been trying to sell it for the past year!”

“Why?” I asked, recalling the dilapidated old ruin I had passed on my way to Chapelgate this morning. I had been shocked at how rundown it now seemed.

“He wants to live in the Imperial City with his parents, it seems,” Carahil responded, her gaze growing thoughtful. “They made him responsible for selling the place first before he could leave Anvil.”

“He doesn’t live in the house?” I asked.

Carahil shook her head. “He’s staying at the Count’s Arms,” she answered. Her eyes sharpened on me. “Are you thinking of buying it?”

“Why would I buy it when I have an equally dilapidated farm to restore?” I retorted mildly, smiling to take the sting out of my words. “Besides, the view is so much better from the homestead!”

“So you’re moving back to Anvil?” Carahil asked.

“I’m thinking about it,” I tucked the packet and coins into my belt purse. “But first I have to get into the University and study alchemy and restoration. Before I can do that, I have to finish my task for the Countess of Bruma.”

“So you finally decided to follow in your mother’s footsteps?” Carahil smiled at me. “Just when you’re becoming quite the battlemage, from what I hear!”

“I find myself wanting to help people heal and recover more than harm them,” I spoke slowly. “I’ve spent the past several weeks casting convalescence and restore magicka on a sick horse, and I’ve learned more about alchemy in that time than I have in my entire life before that.” I looked down at my hands, seeing again the fine scars left by the bloodgrass. “It hurt to see the people of Kvatch after that night,” I continued. “I found myself wishing I could do more for them.”

“As a battlemage you can heal as well as fight,” Carahil mused.

“As a battlemage I may be called to apply torture in interrogations,” I countered. “I’m not certain that’s something I’d want to do.”

“I see,” Carahil nodded to herself. “Well, are you ready for your recommendation?”

I blinked at the sudden change of conversation. “Yes, I am, ma’am.”

“Unlike some of the other tasks you have had to complete,” her tone became mildly censorious, and I briefly wondered which tasks she referred to, “there is nothing frivolous about this one. There is a rogue mage that has been attacking merchants along the Gold Road between Lord Drad’s estate and Gottshaw Inn.” She locked gazes with me, and I saw again the intimidating battlemage she had been in her younger days. “The attacks stopped for a while with the two Oblivion Gates, but now that you’ve closed them, the mage will be attacking again. Why, one of the first merchants to leave town was found dead by Veranius just this morning. This situation has become intolerable and will not be tolerated any longer.”

I recalled Morvayn’s words last night: “- the authorities can take care of that rogue mage that’s been harassing merchants. That ought to be quick work, then we can see about sending vital supplies to Kvatch.” “What do you know about the mage?” I asked.

“The attacks started over the summer. Victims were found with frost burns on their bodies. Simple robbery seems to be the motive,” Carahil steepled her fingers before her face. “The one common link between these deaths, other than that the victims are all merchants, is Brina Cross Inn. I sent two battlemages, Arielle Jurard and Roliand Hanus, there over a month ago, but we’ve lost touch with them when the Oblivion Gate opened here. If you can contact them on your arrival at Brina Cross, they can fill you in on what they’ve found so far.”

“Frost burns?” I considered her words. “I’ll have to be careful, then.”

Carahil rose and moved to a nearby cabinet. She opened the doors and examined the ranks of scrolls within. Selecting three, she drew them out and brought them to me. “These are frost shell spells,” she explained. “They should provide sufficient resistance to frost magic, if and when you encounter this rogue mage.”

I rose to my feet and considered my options. “I’ll take Daedra Slayer,” I mused aloud, fingering the scrolls. “It has fire damage. But I’m not certain if Morvayn is finished with my armor.”

“Then you will have need of these,” Carahil indicated the spells in my hand. “Do not let your guard down. He may have a few extra tricks up his sleeve. I don’t know if the inn’s staff is involved somehow in this.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said. “I’ll leave right away.”

Carahil smiled at me, crinkles appearing at the corners of her green eyes. “I knew you would not hesitate, Julian. You fit in well with us, unlike some mages who do not abide by the principles of the guild.”

************************
Morvayn met me near the sales counter. “I’m sorry, Julian, but your cuirass took a lot of damage. We’re still working on it.” He indicated my weapons racked behind the counter. “But the bows and Daedra Slayer are fully repaired and ready to go.”

“I’ll take just Daedra Slayer,” I answered. “It should do, ser.”

Morvayn regarded me a moment longer. “You’ve got that look in your eye, Julian. Off to rescue another cat?”

I chuckled shortly. “In a manner of speaking,” I answered, buckling the enchanted katana at my waist, over my linen skirt. I paused a moment, then dug into my belt purse. “Would you mind holding this for me, please?”

Morvayn looked at the packet and coin sack I held out to him. “Certainly,” he nodded. He fingered the leather. “Got the farm?”

“As a reward for closing the Oblivion Gate,” I nodded. “And my back pension, too. Four years’ worth.”

Morvayn whistled softly, hefting the sack in his hand. “Enough here to buy one of Clesa’s horses, if you want to ride rather than walk.”

I hesitated, then shook my head. “I’m walking today.” I nodded farewell at him. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

************************
The sun shone brightly overhead, warming the countryside as I stepped through Northgate. I nodded my greetings to the two guardsmen standing outside the portal. To the left, nestled in the curve of the Gold Road as it turned northwestward, the stables showed signs of bustling activity, with a golden-red horse standing within the open-sided shelter. Muscular and huge-boned, he towered above the smaller white horses as he munched at a pile of hay nearly as massive as himself.

In the courtyard, a male Redguard was grumpily stripping a lathered white stallion of his tack. The horse, beautifully proportioned with a graceful, arching neck and black eyes, tipped his small ears at me, then playfully nipped at the groom’s shirt. Busy with the girth, Ernest grunted and nudged the horse’s nose away with his elbow. As he pulled the saddle off the stallion’s round back, the white equine snorted loudly, splattering Ernest’s shirt and arms with mucus.

Ernest scowled at the horse’s mischievous gaze and snarled wordlessly before stumping away with the tack. As he disappeared within the stable office, the stallion turned his gaze back to me. I found myself leaning on the fence, watching him. There’s something about that horse. He’s different from the other white horses Clesa breeds here. I couldn’t quite pin it down. He’s the same size, same color. I glanced at one of the other horses tethered within the shed, and began comparing the two. The gelding holds his head lower. His skin is pink, and his eyes are light. His back is longer. I turned my gaze back the stallion, who still watched me.

This one is more close-coupled, more rounded and muscular. Dark skin that shows around the eyes and muzzle. His nose is straight, not bowed out like the other one’s. He carries his head high, and that neck is so beautifully arched. Suddenly the stallion moved, his compact body turning gracefully until he faced me. Slowly he walked toward the fence and me. I realized I had stopped breathing when his warm breath brushed my crossed forearms.

“Hello Julian,” Clesa’s voice reached me from beyond the stallion’s rump. The horse swung his head in her direction, waggled his ears, then turned back to me. His soft muzzle found its way to my right ear. I scrunched my shoulder as his breath tickled the side of my neck. “I see Blanco’s introduced himself to you.”

“Blanco?” I repeated. “He’s beautiful, Clesa. I’ve been trying to figure out why he’s so different from your other white horses.”

“He’s High Rock bred,” Clesa answered, running her hand affectionately along the stallion’s arched neck. “I brought him down to improve my bloodlines.”

I noticed that Clesa herself was dressed for riding, in leather breeches and high-topped boots. Drying sand was splattered along her calves, matching the same on Blanco’s belly. “I’m sorry, you were riding him just now?”

“I have to,” Clesa responded. “He’s highly trained, and needs to be ridden nearly every day. I take him down to the beach and put him through the movements. He loves it, and it gives him a chance to blow off excess energy.”

“Excess energy!” Ernest grumped as he returned to Blanco, brush and curry in hand. He met my gaze and grinned. “Hello, Julian!”

“You have to admit that he doesn’t just stare dumbly at you, Ernest,” I teased him. The scowl returned and he growled at Blanco. The stallion flipped his head as if agreeing with me. Again he nudged my arms with his muzzle. Finally I dared to pet him, rubbing his chiseled nose the way I always did with Paint. “I’m sorry, Blanco, if I’d known you would come up to me, I would have come with an apple for you. Next time,” I promised him.

“I heard you had a Wildeye paint,” Clesa said to me. “So you finally got yourself a horse?”

“He was on loan,” I responded, as Ernest vigorously rubbed the curry in circular motions along Blanco’s side. “But we encountered a will o’wisp in Blackwood, and he became very ill.”

“Oh, I’m very sorry to hear that!” Clesa exclaimed sympathetically. “Of course you can’t ride him anymore, correct?”

“He’s getting stronger,” I answered, “but I had to leave him behind near the Imperial City.”

“Not with gra-Bura!” Clesa exclaimed.

“Why not?” Ernest grumbled under his breath. “She understands the real value of horses!”

“Oh, shush, Ernest!” Clesa retorted. I laughed softly. Blanco tipped his ears at me, his black eyes sparkling. I swear he’s laughing too.

“No, I left him with Aelwin Merowald, a fisherman in Weye.” I rubbed Blanco’s nose again. “They love each other, and Merowald promised me he would get Paint better. But I think Paint’s days of wandering Cyrodiil are over.”

“That’s too bad,” Clesa’s eyes sobered. “At least he’s happy, isn’t he?”

I thought again of Paint gazing after me as I walked away from him. I managed to swallow the sadness choking my throat. “I hope so, ma’am.”

“Well,” I gave Blanco a final pat and moved back. He stepped forward and put his head over the fence. “I must be going, Clesa, Ernest. Next time I’ll stop by with an apple for Blanco if that’s all right with you.”

“Certainly!” Clesa smiled at me, a calculating light in her eyes. I turned away and started up the Gold Road.

****************
A/N While the horses in-game are quite well rendered for video games, and very realistic in their gaits and scripted actions, my vision of Blanco is more - well, vivid. So to give you an idea of his personality and his energy, I found images taken of a real-life Lippizzaner stallion that is a dead ringer for Blanco.

[Olen]

Another character, and Blanco certainly is one. You managed to give him a real personality in quite a short space, are we seeing her next horse? If he's there to improve bloodlines it seems unlikely but maybe... Can't say I know much about horses so I'll assume all the description were desirable properties in a horse.

I briefly wondered which tasks she referred to

Most of them? Other than Skingrad and possibly Leyawin they're all covering someone's incompetance.

Now I suspect things are about to go badly for a certain rouge mage...

A nit?
Carahil looked up from her studying at my arrival. - a small thing but seeing as it's the first sentence 'study' might be smoother as the noun here, unless it's a dialect thing.

[Thomas Kaira]

Well, Carahil is indeed putting Julian's skills to good use. That blasted battlemage won't be giving anyone the cold shoulder for much longer (bad joke intended).

“Why not?” Ernest grumbled under his breath. “She understands the real value of horses!”

As does a certain Khajiit whom you've quoted, dear Hautee.

Now that is one beautiful stallion! I'm envious of Julian now, I want to meet him!

Nit?

This situation has become intolerable and will not be tolerated any longer.

This sentence came off as clunky to me. Perhaps it would flow a bit better if you dropped one of the conjugations of "tolerate?"

[SubRosa]

I only meant the Sirens as a joke, as that farm is where they meet you.

“That’s almost enough to buy the old Benirus manor from young Velwyn!” she exclaimed. “He’s been trying to sell it for the past year!”
Speaking of old ghosts...

“She understands the real value of horses!”
Horseburgers!

So Julian is at her latest fetch and carry mission for the Mages Guild. Or this time, a fetch and kill mission.

As Olen said, you breathed quite a bit of life into the playful stallion. Although it seems unlikely that Julian will wind up buying him, as Clesa said that she brought him all the way from Vienna, Austria High Rock to breed her stock. So it is doubtful she would part with him.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Feb 17 2011, 03:54 AM

[Captain Hammer]

Ah, dealing with ye' olde rogue mages. Giving run-of-the-mill mages a bad name since the First Era!

I particularly liked how Julian was steered towards the acquisition of Benirus Manor with her earnings, instead of taking up residence in Gweden Farm on account of the "haunting" and spirits that seem to be there. Everybody knows Benirus Manor is a far better choice for those looking to avoid performing an Exorcism. By Fire!

Hm, I wonder if I can trademark that. "Exorcisms By Fire! Guaranteed to leave you free of any possibility of a haunting for a given structure!" 'Course, my rates would depend on fuel and napalm costs...

[SubRosa]

Hm, I wonder if I can trademark that. "Exorcisms By Fire! Guaranteed to leave you free of any possibility of a haunting for a given structure!" 'Course, my rates would depend on fuel and napalm costs...

Now you are making me think of Ghostbusters:
"Let's split up."
"Yeah, we can do more damage that way."

[Acadian]

Another great episode with Carahil. I think she is right. This is a recommendation quest that really does matter and mean something. I think she chose wisely in asking Julian to help. Another of my very favorite mages is Arielle Jurard. I look forward to meeting her.

Yay! We meet Blanco! I'm betting I can guess where Julian's pension is gonna go.

[Grits]

“Why would I buy it when I have an equally dilapidated farm to restore?” I retorted mildly, smiling to take the sting out of my words. “Besides, the view is so much better from the homestead!”
I was so disappointed in the game to find I couldn’t go back into that farmhouse!! May the restorations go smoothly.

Blanco, wow!
Clesa smiled at me, a calculating light in her eyes.
A time share horse?

This post has been edited by Grits: Feb 17 2011, 04:35 PM