Knights of the Nine - New Kvatch, Attempt at fan-fic Options

[Acadian]

Quite the bloody reception, but at least the Nul-Iron manacles are off Nol now.

Tcheet and his high priest of Arkay are a pair of pieces of work. Loved the tapestries. Can’t wait to see what kind of tcheet the Thalmor have planned for our good guys.

’Nol found the logic sound, if not the mind.’
What a great line!

Well, at least the old trio got some whiskey and cleavage.

Wonderful job developing the new characters introduced here!

[mALX]

There were two large windows in the room, and the sunlight streaming in through them, illuminated the smoke from the myriad candles in the room, causing the light to appear almost like some sort of Divine signal.

This sentence was absolutely breathtaking - LOVED it !!! All of the descriptions in this chapter were in such exquisite detail that it felt like being there throughout the first half of the chapter! Awesome job !!

The dialogue following was great, you have such a subtle humor that always comes through so well in your dialogue, that is a real talent! Awesome Chapter !!

[Grits]

I love how the candle smoke and sunlight interacted to imply Divine approval, and the simultaneous display and disregard of the treasures. Then the scuffle when they reached the carefully orchestrated throne setting was the perfect touch. Yikes! Tcheet is a richard.

the ever present superior smirk that made him alternate between lust and rage on far too many an occasion.

Oh, this is my new answer when the girlfriends ask how Mr. Grits gets away with outrageous things. “I’m torn between lust and rage.” Uncomfortably true!!

And wow, Cestra. Wow.

Love it, McB!

[Athynae]

Yep, yep, yep, another wonderful addition, I really wish you would stop mulling these things and over-thinking while you make us wait for the next bit...just sayin.

The descriptions were so precise I could see the place vividly and this little touch, to me anyway, was special

Candle-smoke residue slowly taking the glory from the glorious.

And now I get to throw it back at you:

When is the Tcheet gonna hit the....I would say fan but I think it would be more appropriate to say the ceiling or the tapestries???

This one I think deserves mention as well

“I don’t think he’s going to be able to really appreciate that lesson, Your Governor-ness.” Said Jeck.

I loved it.

[McBadgere]

Jack!!...Cheers for getting through all that, I'm glad you enjoyed it...The Thalmor...Appearences can be deceiving...Cheers though...

Acadian...Many many thanks...Glad the carriage ride was cool for you...I had a brilliant time making all that up... ...Ah, the cows...A true moment of there and then inspiration from the character, as opposed to the "planning" that I spend ages doing... ...

And thanks for the vote on the new additions...And there's little better than whiskey and cleavage... ...

Mustard...My many thankses...I am ever grateful for yer kind words...

Athynae...As you saw, he got slightly more than a punch in the end... ...Thanks for the kindness about the latest one...I mull...It's what I do...I don't do dark easily...And I'm hoping to not ar$e this up...So...It takes a bit for me...But I think I'm okay for a couple of chapters now at least... ...As for the Tcheet hitting the fan...Ummm...Soon...And nicely too...It'll be worth the wait... ...Probably anyways...

Grits!!...Hope it was worth the wait in the end...Glad you also loved the carriage ride...Also thank you for the kindness about the room's description and Cestra...Yes, I quite enjoyed...Envisioning her... ...(Lucy Lawless in Spartacus btw)...Cheers muchly!!...

Darkness Eternal...The Thalmor are scum...They really are...Appearances and all that...Thanks for reading!!...Cheers...

mALX!!...Cheers for taking the time to catch up...Many many thanks, I hope it was worth your time... ...And thanks for appreciating the humour...I try...Or is that I'm trying?... ...

I do love my versions of the Divines...There's a bit more coming up from some of them...Just so you know...

Thank you all so very much...I appreciate it...



---------------------------



Sorry these updates took so long, but like I said, dark don't come easy, and I need to be sure that I'm not lessening the already barely-able-to-be-called quality that it has been so far, by ar$ing the baddie up...So, like a true grown-up, I tried to avoid it as long as possible...Lol...I'm about to put Nol through the ringer a bit...Sorry old bean...

Aaaamywho...

On to Part 2 of the audience...

Reminder time, Empire is set in 3E 604, and this is ten years before that...So there...

Oooh, and also, there's something towards the end...Just remember that you have actually already read what actually happened, right?...*points*...Just warning you...

Onwards....







1.12 Empire (pt .7 – Know Thine Enemy – v )








The Throne Room. Crystal Tower, Alinor. 10 Years Earlier.









“You’re aiming a little out of your league aren’t you?” asked Nol.

Cestra looked questioningly at the Fleet Admiral, “Most powerful man in the world? Slowly carving himself an Empire to rival any that went before? Young, beautiful, clever, dashing, virile...Thrusting.” she raised an eyebrow and smirked.

Nol winced and laughed once, “I wasn’t talking to you.”

The smirk disappeared from Cestra’s face briefly, which made Nol’s heart ache, So obvious to me, even when you’re trying to hide from everything.

Areldur watched as Tcheet stood and walked to Cestra, grabbed her from behind and pulled her to him; she sighed and purred, all the time never taking her eyes off her ex-husband.

Nol, who had backed away as soon as Tcheet had gotten off his throne, had to admit Tcheet was a very imposing figure. Long flowing dark hair past his shoulders. A good head taller than anyone here, very muscular with it. Sculptors must love him. Perfection personified. Makes me sick. He thought.



-----------------------------------------------------------------



“Cestra came to me with a proposition that I would have been a fool to ignore, - and believe me Fleet Admiral, I’m no fool, - and it has been...very good for us since.” said Tcheet.

“Which us? The way that people sometimes say ‘us’ meaning themselves, or genuinely the ‘two of us’.”

“Us meaning the whole of the Aldmeri Dominion.”

“How so?”

“The Mages Guild yet still exists; The University is not yet rubble. This is good for all the Thalmor and Bosmer mages out there, and the youngsters coming through and needing...Ahem...A firm hand in guidance.” Tcheet kissed the top of Cestra’s head and released her.

Nol noticed the flicker of disgust on Cestra’s face, Oooh, so that’s your game. Be careful sweetie, this is too dangerous for games this time.

Tcheet slowly walked down the stairs. A smile slowly growing as he did so. “But enough pleasantries I’m afraid.”

Nol looked down at the stain left by the unfortunate Justicar Rikanstinar, “Yes, very pleasant.”

“Oh, trust me Fleet Admiral, I could have made this a whole lot worse.” Tcheet paused briefly and then, “When we first came to power, it did occur to me that our...Ah...Reforms could be somewhat unpopular for a time, and that perhaps the reprisals would be visited on those more vulnerable, rather than those carrying out the...Change...The families of our devoted servants.” The Overlord looked each of them in the eye. “I have built several villa complexes, out in the North of the Isles, each capable of housing thousands of families, in excellent luxury. All the time protected from harm by stout walls and ever vigilant soldiers.”

“Dear Gods,” said Jeck, “You’re holding our families prisoner so that we’ll do what you want!”

“Nonesense, my dear Harramaund.” Said Tcheet, “That sounds so crass, I am merely rewarding your families for the excellent service my dutiful soldiery is performing for me.”

“Why you-”

“JECK! Shut the frak up.” Nol stared at Tcheet, breathing deeply, trying to get control.

Tcheet came to stand directly in front of Nol.

“What if we were to decide that our families were better off with us, out here? That they could look after themselves?”

“All I can say to that is – it’s a very dangerous road down from there, you’d have to be very sure if you decide to set one foot on that particular path. I cannot guarantee freedom from reprisals if you do.”

Nol stared hard into Tcheet’s eyes for some moments and then lowered his.

“Nol?!” asked Jeck with incredulity in his voice. “Screw this!” he said. Harramaund threw the now empty glass at Tcheet and launched himself with intent. Nol quickly stepped to one side and looked away as Tcheet simply raised one hand and fired a shock spell into Harramaund’s chest. Jeck flew backwards into a couple of Thalmor, and they all landed in a heap a short way down the carpet. Smoke could be seen rising from his clothes.

The room was silent for a few heartbeats, apart, that is, for a quiet chuckle emanating from Oostermann.

Nol looked around with a tear in his eye, expecting the worst.

“Is he alive?” Tcheet asked the slowly extricating guards.

One, reached down and felt for a pulse, then nodded.

“Pity.” Replied Tcheet with a sigh. “No matter. Take him to one of the cells, I’ll deal with him later. Say your goodbyes to your friends Areldur. It’s going to be a while before you see them,” His eyes followed the unconscious form of Harramaund out of the room, “if ever.” His nose wrinkled in disgust. His head snapped sharply around to stare at Siar. “You have anything to add?”

Siar’s hands were opening and closing, as if weighing up the chances, desperate to avenge his friend. He was breathing deeply with rage. Eremnor looked to Nol, whose own look begged restraint. Finally, he looked away.

“Good choice.” Tcheet walked to the stairs of his dais.

“So what is it you want us to do then?” asked Nol. A hard diamond of hate had formed in his heart. Before, Nol had hated Tcheet generally for what he’d done to his country, now it was personal hatred, the more dangerous kind...To them both.

Tcheet stopped his ascent and turned slowly. “And still your legendary defiance Areldur.” The Overlord shook his head.

“Yeah well, I strive for consistency your Overlord$hit...I mean, ship.”

Tcheet snorted, pondered a moment and then shrugged, “As I said before, I’m no fool, as much fun as it would be to send you three out as Justicars and see you flounder about...Something more suited to your Colonel Rae Treort actually. Where is he by the way?”

“Not here, luckily for you.” Replied Nol.

Tcheet laughed and shook his head. “You really have no idea do you?” He turned and walked up to his throne, completely ignoring Cestra, who then looked down confusedly to Nol.

“Your talents are actually going to be made useful, and you’re going to work damned hard at whatever you’re given. Aren’t you?”

Nol chewed the inside of his cheek, then finally, “Yes.”

Siar just nodded.

“Yes what?”

“Yes...Overlord.”

Tcheet smirked.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Nol suddenly noticed a dark haired Bosmer stood a respectful distance from the throne, but obviously needing an audience.

Where the hell did he come from? Thought Nol.

Tcheet obviously thought the same thing, and surprise briefly registered in his face as he noticed the Bosmer. Recognising the elf, he beckoned him over.

The Bosmer talked quickly in hushed tones and Nol noticed Tcheet was looking at Cestra for most of it, and a couple of times, his eyes darted quickly down to the Fleet Admiral.

Finally, the Bosmer finished and bowed to the Overlord. He then turned and took in the room – Nol knew that look – and walked out.

Tcheet stood and walked forward to the edge of the raised platform.

“Well, proof if proof be needed. That was a message from Ondolemar,” he started.

At the mention of the name, Nol bristled.

Tcheet continued, “he informs me that your daughter Koyree was caught and sadly, she...resisted, and had to be...” The Overlord looked as if he was searching for the right word, finally nodding to himself, “Destroyed.”

Behind him, Cestra let out a strangled cry and put a hand to her mouth. Her eyes found Nol’s, and breathing hard, she turned and started walking away.

“Where do you think you’re going?” asked Tcheet without turning around. “You have duties to attend to.”

“What?!” Cestra stared, eyes full of tears from Tcheet to Nol. “I-I...But...Oh you kriffing child. Get over yourself.”

Tcheet walked over to her and simply backhanded her hard across the face.

As he wasn’t expecting it, Nol’s speed and strength fortified punch as the Overlord turned back, actually had the effect that Areldur had desired, and Tcheet stumbled backwards.

Nol knelt by Cestra and held out his hand to help her up.

“Grief makes you do the stupidest things.” Said Tcheet, wiping his lip of blood. “That’s your free one Areldur. The next one had better count for more.” He pointed to Cestra, “You, get to our rooms.” He looked past Areldur. “Take these gentlemen to their rooms, I’ll deal with them presently.”

“Presumably after Harramaund? Wouldn’t want to jump the queue.” Said Nol, his cheeks showing signs of tears himself.

Tcheet shook his head. “You will kriffing learn Areldur, even if it takes every one of your family members to teach you. And it will happen if you carry on. Learn your place. Now.”



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[mALX]

Cestra obviously didn't know who she was dealing with, her game of power just got higher priced than she had thought to pay. Awesome Write !!

[Acadian]

Holy Tcheet! That guy is a real dastardly piece of work. A superbly done villain!

“So what is it you want us to do then?” asked Nol. A hard diamond of hate had formed in his heart.’
Beautiful passage this. I’m with you Nol. Restraint may be the better part of valor for the moment. . . Oops, not so fast:

‘Nol’s speed and strength fortified punch as the Overlord turned back, actually had the effect that Areldur had desired, and Tcheet stumbled backwards.’
*cheers and gulps at the same time*

Wow, this was all nicely done. At least Cestra still has some maternal instincts.

This post has been edited by Acadian: May 18 2012, 12:50 AM

[Athynae]

I do hope Tcheet ends up a big messy pile of tcheet...just sayin and I hope Nol is first in line to start the pile.

Now, that said, this was great. I do believe Cestra stepped in a little over her head without realizing it and I don't know whether to feel bad for her or just make some comment about her lack of thought.

I do have a feeling that as this all starts building in Nol's system there will be little that Tcheet can do to stop him, and that is going to be a good read I am sure...

This though needs to be recognized as a bad bit of writing...

Sorry these updates took so long, but like I said, dark don't come easy, and I need to be sure that I'm not lessening the already barely-able-to-be-called quality that it has been so far, by ar$ing the baddie up...So, like a true grown-up, I tried to avoid it as long as possible...Lol...I'm about to put Nol through the ringer a bit...Sorry old bean...

Um, NOT EXACTLY WHAT I WAS THINKING!!! Goober badger!! Shame on you.

[jack cloudy]

Well, I have to admit that the great lord of the Thalmor, the Mercifully Benevolent and Wise Tcheet does not take half measures when it comes to symbolism.

The treasure "Yeah, we're so prosperous we don't even care anymore".\
The military might "Disobedience might prove 'unwise', wink wink."
And the religious aspect "The Divines (the one that count) are with us and shower our leader with their wisdom." I especially liked the throne painting.


This does however lead to a big question. Exactly what is Tcheet's stance on Arkay? Is he really a believer, or (my belief) does he simply see it as a decent excuse to hide his ambitions behind? Oostermann seems to be the real deal though.



Here's my interpretation which I will keep until evidence to the contrary emerges.

On one fine day, Oostermann got messed up. His injuries led to a fever, the fever led to delusions of Arkay coming to him and stuff. Oostermann's body healed, but his mind was broken forever. He started preaching his 'revelation' on the streets.

Enter Tcheet. He wants to rule the world, he wants to be the big guy who has everything. And I mean everything. But he can't get it. All the morally upright Altmer would stop him before he got the chance to even get properly started.
"I need a reason. A reason the people can accept." He tells himself. He hears about Oostermann and a shining light goes on in his head.
"Oostermann's revelations, the words of Arkay! I can use that. Divine will, add in some bits about the birthright of the Altmer, how the Thalmer were the rightful rulers who got waylaid by treachery and betrayal. That will appeal to the old guard who still dream of the good old days. As for the youngsters, they're bored and would love to become the big bullies...I mean, protectors of the new Thalmer. Gotta think big, let's call it Thalmor instead."

And with that idea, he schemed, flattered, spread false rumours and generally backstabbed his way to the top.

[Grits]

Oooh, and also, there's something towards the end...Just remember that you have actually already read what actually happened, right?...*points*...Just warning you...

Thank you for the reminder. I have been known to cause a scene.

Oh, Tcheet is a great bad guy! He even has the hair for it. Poor Nol! And Cestra is going to have a very bad time, I think. She and Nol are anything but indifferent to one another, so there could be an interesting partnership opportunity.

This was a great part, and one that I will be reading again with the parts before and after. Yikes, I'm on pins and needles wondering what's going to happen to everyone, especially Jeck.

Also I feel very short reading this part of the story. Thank goodness for the surprise Bosmer!

[Colonel Mustard]

Tcheet is an absolutely excellent villain, oh yes. I like him already; very, very scary to see indeed and it certainly helps the Thalmor feel like a genuine threat for the Knights later on in the story. Things seemed rather easy for them in the early parts, it seemed, but you're putting such concerns to rest as this is going on. Good show, old bean!

[McBadgere]

Jack!!...Many thanks for the idea...It's pretty good, not right, but good...Answers will be there before the end, but I'll draw you to what I said towards the start of this, what seems like already an age earlier... ...

“Right gentlemen,” started the Oversaar, “we have a total clusterfus of a situation, and it stinks worse than an Argonian garbage scow in the height of summer. Oostermann and his Thalmer finally got into power.”

There was a deep sighing from around the table.

“Except this time it’s Thalmor.”

“From One-elf to One-world?” asked Areldur.

“Didn’t he try this a hundred years ago?” Eremnor added.

“Yeah, but the Cyrodiilian supertrio of Ocato, Ormandin and McWylde – which sound like a sinister firm of solicitors – put their oars in, and he was dismissed as irrelevant.” Answered Harramaund.

“But now the damned idiot managed to get the army behind him. Something about communing with ‘the Divine Arkay’ to convince them to get behind the idea.”

The three younger High-Elves looked at Farrada with disbelief for a short while before Eremnor picked up his ale, drank a bit then asked, “Who?”

The older man smirked, raised his eyebrow and announced, “General Ofwysyn Tcheet.”

More groaning.

“Well, that makes some sense I suppose, if not a pleasant idea. He’s been on about being blessed by Arkay himself for years hasn’t he? This is what he says gives him and his ‘Elite troops’ their power.” Said Areldur.

Tcheet is kind of the same as the original Commander from earlier, Robert McWylde, and therefore the Altmer is an excercise in what happens if one that is called by a Divine decides to use his power...Differently...Also, what happens if you find out that your actions are being manipulated by the Divine you've pledged your life and soul to?...Coming soon...Um...Ish...


Mustard...Many thanks my friend...Glad the villain turned out better than I was worried it might have... ...

Grits...Thank you!!...More of the Bosmer this time... ...Sorry this bit is such a tall tale... ...Ahem...Yes...About that wringer I mentioned...

Athynae...In another bit of planning, there was the idea to have Cestra's story too...But I couldn't get sidetracked by that too, it's bad enough as it is!! ...Basically, she's been with Tcheet for a while in a kind of "Well, my guild is okay I shall bury my head in the sand to everything else." kind of way.

Thank you for the nudges I get now and then about my writing, I'm just always concious of exactly how good the other writers in this club I'm standing in are...

Acadian...Thank you m'friend!!...Like I said, glad the villain turned out okay in the end...And yes, I imagined Cestra to be one of those pushy parents who never really told Koyree how proud she was or how much she loved her...Always imagining there would be chance later...And now...*Shrug*...Like I said, an unwritten part of it all, but had to be worked out anyways...

mALX!!...Indeed...A very high price...More Cestra soon...You lucky peoples you... ...


Aaaamywho...


To continue...Empire, 3E 604, 10 years earlier...




1.12 Empire (pt. 8 - Know Thine Enemy – vi)







Alinor, 10 years earlier.







The trouble with hard diamonds of hate is that you can easily lose them, especially if your heart happens to be in a million pieces.

Because he hadn’t killed Ondolemar, and Koyree was dead.

Nol realised he was absolutely lost, somewhere between the dais and the door; possibly around the time he’d turned to Tcheet and dared him to tell them it was all a lie, a joke. Tcheet had simply answered, “I’ve got you where I want you, why lie to you now?”

Both Cestra, as she left and Siar, as he was taken away – he had even winked at Nol – had looked to him with such hope that he would pull some miracle out of thin air, there and then.

As the Thalmor guard had gripped his arm and led him firmly along the long carpet towards the door, he suddenly realised that he couldn’t think of anything, he tried to focus on his hate, always a help, focus on something, anything. But that was when he discovered that he couldn’t find any hate. Well, he couldn’t find his head; his heart.

His soul.

Torn into countless ribbons and blowing away with the tempest of realisation that –

Because he hadn’t killed Ondolemar, Koyree was dead.

As a father, the thing you do- you’re SUPPOSED to do, is put yourself in harm’s way for them. You take the hit, you protect them. You do not arrogantly assume that they can take care of themselves so you can be a hero again when you’re feeling old and irrelevant. What you do is, as soon as she disappears, you take as many of them out with you as fast as you can, but most importantly, what you do every single time, is kill Ondolemar. Because then, Koyree would be alive. Not dead.

But he hadn’t killed Ondolemar, and Koyree was dead.



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------



He was dimly aware that he was stood in the middle of a room, staring blankly at a painting. A beach, a cliff, the sea, she loved the sea, almost as much he did. Well, she did. And now she couldn’t. And it was all his fault.

He had meant to do something. He frowned and slowly looked down. Something about diamonds? Oh no, getting out. But what was there to get out to?

Ondolemar was out there wasn’t he? He could kill him. Yes! Kill Ondolemar!

“Bit bloody late now, pissing idiot.”

Nol turned his head and saw his reflection in a mirror.

“You should have done it when you had the chance, and now she’s dead.”

Well, you were no kriffing help. Why didn’t you do something?

“Oh no, I was having a grand old time playing hero thank you very much. See, everyone expects me to do something about it. And isn’t it always as much of a drug as any you’ve complained about Jeck taking?”

Nol noticed the mirror was on the floor in a thousand pieces.

Suddenly one shard was in his hand.

His eyes met his reflection’s...No, Farrada’s! Good old Farrada.

“You do that, and I will kick your ar$e from one end of eternity to the other, and that’s a bloody long time. And you know what that’ll do to my knee. Do you really want that on your conscience? Hmmm? Hmmm? I told you to wait like a good Altmer. Why didn’t you wait Nol?”

But how long was I supposed to wait?

“As long as it took!! What? You’re in a hurry? You’ve got half your life to wait.”

Something needed doing, he was going too far.

“Trust me on this, something is already being done. I saw it. It was all in there to see.”

Where?

“The throne room. I saw it, you saw it. All you had to do was wait a bit longer and none of this would have happened. But no, you and your friends had to go and try and prove you still had it. Really, the four of you against the Thalmor? You really thought you had a chance? You arrogant $hit. There are other people in the world you know?”

“You killed me.” Said Koyree, staring out from the shard.

Then there was blood on his fingers. Lots of blood.

He heard voices shouting with alarm.

Then his hands were covered in white fabric. Oh, bandage.



----------------------------------------------------------------------------------



A face appeared before Nol. He was supposed to hate him, wasn’t he? Yes, I hate you. It wasn’t Nol’s fault after all! It was this face’s. Well, Nol giggled, not the face as such. But he couldn’t find his hate. Well, he couldn’t find his heart. Oh yes, a million pieces and all that.

Because he hadn’t killed Ondolemar, and Koyree was dead.

The face spoke words, turned away, looked back with a frown. Another face joined it, spoke words. Nol raised his eyebrow. I know you.

The first face nodded and went away. Nol missed it already.

The second face smiled at him, so he smiled back. The face grew hands, he felt fingers at his temples. The face said, “Don’t worry Fleet Admiral, I know a thing or two about this sort of thing.”



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Nol woke in a brightly lit room. He tried to push himself up with his hands and winced. Areldur held his hands in front of his face and frowned. What the hells?

A nurse came to him, helped him sit up, and asked how he was feeling.

“There are several very important questions with words like where and how in them that I should be asking right now, however I will start with how long?”

“Two days. You were asleep for almost two days.”

“I remember the throne room, and then...Being somewhere else. Oh...” Koyree...

“No, Fleet Admiral!” the nurse shook him. “Here, take this water, focus on the water.”

He gripped the glass between his paw-like, bandaged hands.

“Water...Irony.”

“Shouldn’t be, we boil it.” Said the nurse.

“No, I mean...Oh...A joke, clever.” His eyelids started to close.

“Stay with me Fleet Admiral, focus. You!” she called a guard. “Either go yourself or send someone to get, Healer Maircaln and Aide Trellanwr. Maybe we need to inform the Overlord too.” She shrugged.

The guard hesitated.

The nurse rolled her eyes. “Just get Maircaln and Trellanwr. Fleet Admiral!” she slapped Nol’s face.

“Ow! Well your bedside manner leaves much to be desired.”

“Well, if you desire my in-bed manner.” And she took off her uniform and climbed into bed with him.

A ringing slap brought him around.

“Ow!” he said. “Well, your bedside manner leaves much to be desired.” He frowned and looked about confusedly.

“Focus on your water, drink some of it, talk to me or the walls; Hells, even the water, but for the Gods’ sake, don’t fall asleep again.”

“Cestra.” He said.

“Excuse me?”

“I need to see Cestra, do you know if she’s alright? Can you get a message to her?”

“Cestra?”

Nol frowned. “Tcheet’s...plaything.”

“Oh! Riiight, I don’t really get invited to those circles, if you know what I mean? But Aide Trellanwr might be able to help you.”

“Do you come here often?” He asked hopefully.

“Only when it’s quiet.” She said, and took off her uniform.

One slap later and Nol was handed a painting. “Tell me what you can see in it.” the nurse said.

“Heh.” Nol smiled.

The nurse angled her head to see the painting better, “Something funny I hadn’t noticed?”

“No, it’s just the lighthouse. The town where I come from has a lighthouse. Wonder if I’ll see it again?”

“So what else do you see?”

“Erm...An Ayelid ruin, with some unidentifiable oversized men in armour coming out of it, charging at a few glowing knights in white. I like the way they’ve done the sea, it’s very pretty...Wait a minute. You can’t see the whole town, but I know this. It’s Anvil isn’t it? And the ruin is Garlas Malatar. How the hells did you manage to keep this here?”

“Well, you’re very well informed.” Said a voice. “How so?”

“Ah,” said the nurse, “Aide Trellanwr, Admiral Areldur.”

“Fleet Adm-” Nol started to say and then looked properly at the aide, “You?!!” he spat.

The Bosmer looked back at him. “Me?”

“You’re the one who told Tcheet about...about...” Nol breathed hard.

“Yes, I had the misfortune of delivering the message, and for what it’s worth, I am truly sorry for your loss.” Said Aide Trellanwr, “Now where did you learn about the image in the painting?”

Nol stared hard at the Bosmer for a spell, then shrank somewhat, with some sort of internal defeat. Areldur then said, “I tend to be away at sea a lot, being a Fleet Admiral and all. I have a great many books. Some of them – although they will probably be burned by now – were about The Knights of The Nine. And although the books I have are varied as well as many, some of them get read more than once.” He shrugged, “The question is, how did you come to keep this? What with Tcheet’s pathological need to ignore the recent past and all.” he gestured with the painting.

“Well, one, I didn’t. It’s the Temple’s; two, when the previous occupiers were...Moved on, we simply took over the place, furnishings and all. And obviously we didn’t check the paintings thoroughly enough,” the Bosmer stared meaningfully at the nurse, “and three...” he took the painting from Nol and threw it hard against the opposite wall, where it crumpled.

Nol sighed and shook his head. He raised an eyebrow, “So, is Aide your title or is it short for something?”

Trellanwr looked at Nol and said, “Well, you seem to be feeling better, how many fingers am I holding up?”

“Well, that’s just rude. So what’s with these?” Nol held his hands up for inspection.

“Well, that’s a question for the Healer really, but come on Fleet Admiral, you’re an educated man. How much mess do you think you made of your hands for them to still be wrapped up that tightly, two days later?”

Nol looked at the bandaged things in his lap. “I don’t understand.” He said.

Just then, another new Altmer walked into the room.

“Ah Maircaln, the Fleet Admiral here was just asking about his hands.”

“The ones he’s lucky to still have?” Maircaln said. The woman came and sat on the bed, the opposite side to where Trellanwr stood. She took hold of Nol’s forearm with one hand and put the other on the top of his head, middle finger and thumb spread as wide as possible to get as close to his temples as possible.

The grey-haired Altmer leaned in and kissed him deeply.

One focus spell later and Nol was wide awake again, this time with little chance of falling asleep, adrenaline excited by magic.

“I shall have another potion added to prevent relapse from happening.” Maircaln nodded. “Right, your hands.” She paused, then, “I’m sure you’ve had occasion to notice these things, given your line of work, but the more severe the wound, the more complications self-healing or application of strong potions and salves will produce.”

Nol frowned, slowly catching up with understanding of the words, then nodded. “Flesh knits easily, but some of the other things take more time to mesh properly.”

The healer nodded and smiled, her silver-grey eyes twinkling, “That’s right, there is more to the body than just flesh and bone, these other things are always able to be repaired, but only if you take more time, else they don’t work properly.” Maircaln looked Nol in the eye. “The damage you did to your hands,” she shook her head, “you almost took your fingers off of one hand, somehow you almost sliced your other hand off, mid-palm. The amount of trauma these took, you are really lucky that we were able to save them at all.”

Nol stared shocked and sad at his hands.

“As strange as it may sound, we’ve had to suppress your natural magicks, so that you don’t go trying to heal yourself quicker-”

Nol frowned and started to point out he could see and about his knee and the other problems when he was without magic.

The healer nodded, “Yes, the biothaumicautopalliative response system, that’s being taken care of with potions and spells. All those extra problems, they all happened because you took potions, or healed yourself, or had someone do it for you. Then your body adapted to it. You were none the wiser until the magic wasn’t there. ”

Even Trellanwr was fascinated with this. “So how long until his hands will be, well, could be functional again?”

The Altmer looked over the bed at the dark haired Bosmer and shrugged, “The surface wounds should be closed even now, it’s been two days, we shall check presently; as for the rest, if the potions and salves work as they should, we could know in a few days, then these,” she indicated to bandages, “can come off permanently, as whatever can be done,” she shrugged, “will have been obvious by then.

“So for now, my word tops even that of our beloved Overlord. Do I make myself absolutely clear Aide Trellanwr? He is to be left to our care and undisturbed. You can have him, when I’m absolutely sure he’s done.”

“I could ask The Overlord whether that is, in fact, the case, Healer Maircaln.” The Bosmer frowned, but then shrugged and a more pleasant – friendly even – expression came to Trellanwr’s face, “But yes, the Fleet Admiral needs some time to recover from more than just the visible wounds. As much as I can promise these things, you’ll have the time.

“Lucky you Fleet Admiral, I shall be visiting to see how you’re progressing.” Trellanwr smiled almost warmly at Nol, “Though a word of advice my dear Healer, I can’t always predict Overlord Tcheet’s moods. One may take him to come and check up on the patient himself, and there will be nothing I can do to stop that. If anything should go wrong, or you’re delaying the release of the Fleet Admiral here...It would be best for you that that doesn’t happen, if you understand me?”



------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Healer Maircaln dispatched the nurse – Marita, he seemed to remember – to fetch fresh supplies for the replacing of the Fleet Admiral’s dressings.

Trellanwr followed the conversation between the two Altmers for a while, but eventually he was only keeping half an ear on it as he looked out of the large windows to the day outside.

The sunshine of a few days ago had been replaced by summer storms. The latest batch had not long departed, and they were left with merely overcast skies, some lucky shafts of sun racing down to shine off the wet rooftops, just as quickly to be forced away by the next bullying cloud bank.

Presently the nurse returned with a second pushing a trolley full of medical accoutrements.

Not that he was particularly squeamish, but Trellanwr took the opportunity to leave at that point.

“Best leave you all to it,” he said, “however, I will need a few moments with nurse Marita here.”

The nurse turned pale and her eyes widened, then she looked to Maircaln and the new nurse. She sighed, dropped her eyes and followed the Bosmer out of the room.

They walked a short way down the corridor. Trellanwr turned the handle on a door and walked into the empty room. Marita followed him in and he closed the door behind her.



----------------------------------------------------------------------------------



“You couldn’t have handed him a better painting?”

“It was the only one in the room!”

“Why was it that that particular painting was the only one in the room? It should have been shifted years ago. How come it’s still about? That was way too dangerous Marita.”

Marita looked down, embarrassed, “It’s one of my favourites.”

Trellanwr sighed. “Yes, one of mine too.”

Marita looked close to crying, “I’m sorry,” she said, “I just wanted something to remind me of home, this is so hard.”

“I know.” Trellanwr walked to the door. “Be more damned careful in future.” He opened the door and stepped through it. Before he was out of sight he stopped and turned sideways to Marita. “I’ll see if I can find another one. But if you get caught with it, you’re on your own, I won’t be able to save you.” And walked off.



------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This post has been edited by McBadgere: Jun 7 2012, 06:59 AM

[mALX]

Nol's reflections were heartbreaking in this chapter, very well done! Then Nol and the nurse had me in hysterics! Very intriguing bit about the painting !! Awesome Write !!

[Colonel Mustard]

For some reason Nol's random little bits of disjointed thought with the Nurse had me thinking of Catch-22. Goodness knows why, but it really did for some reason. Eh, that's probably just my brain being wierd.

[Acadian]

Nol’s self flagellation over Koyree was very touching and wonderfully carried the true spark of paternal reality.

Yes, broken mirrors can be dangerous. Snips of hallucinations with and about one’s nurse. Alice in Wonderland. Biothaumicautopalliative care. Nol didn’t understand exactly what was happening around him – and I was right there with him.

[Athynae]

Poor Nol...

This was a very well written chapter and the intrigue with the bosmer and the nurse...hhmm...but I am still stuck feeling a bit lost in the insanity that Nol is wrapped in...that was some good writing there, you really get the confusion and pain caused by such an intense emotional injury...GREAT JOB! Painful but awesome...

Ready for more...yes I am.

[Grits]

Both Cestra, as she left and Siar, as he was taken away – he had even winked at Nol – had looked to him with such hope that he would pull some miracle out of thin air, there and then.

In a very touching episode, I thought this was just heartbreaking.

I loved the healer-talk along with Nol’s lapses in and out of awareness. And then Trellanwr, hmm. This is the part where I go back and read the other parts together!

[Lady Saga]

Cool story, McB. Finally got around to starting this one. Took me a couple tries before it started to "catch", but that's okay.

Good thing it's slow at my job today. I get to read all these stories and whatnot.

[McBadgere]

Hallooo!!...I'm back... ...

After a period in which I harvested and did some other stuff; fought crippling lethargy; and made a definite decision to abandon writing altogether...

However the Story Fairy™ decided to grab me by the metaphoricals and lead me to the bubbling morass that it likes to call The Plot™ and pointed out all the work that it had already done in the planning and that it would make my life hell until I carried on with it all...So...Here is some more stuff...

Although, in order for me to find it fun again, there's going to be some stuff coming up that will be...Odd...So there...Self-indulgance-'r'-us...

For the previous stuff...

I thank you all for your kind comments...

mALX - Glad the nurse stuff came across as funny...It made me laugh too... ...Many thanks...

Mustard - Cheers matey...As for the Catch-22, I don't disagree with that at all...But that could be just me Ark[ay]in' about... ...Thanks mate...

Acadian - Sorry I lost you with yet another one...I was trying to get accross and emotional shock induced Fuge State with his ramblings, and drifting in and out of his coma thing...But thank you for realising the parental grief thing...Cheers for continued following m'friend...

Athynae - I seem to have confused you too... ...Sorry...But thank you soooo much for the compliments...

Grits - As ever, you always cheer me up with yer comments... ...Glad the emotional stuff came across well...And for realising how hard that actually was to do...*Hugs*...Cheers...More Trellanwr incoming...And cheers for repeatedly threatening to re-read it...I swear, if this was a book it would make a damned sight more sense I think... ...

Lady Saga - Welcome aboard...I hope I haven't caused you to jump ship already though...Many thanks for trying at least...

Anyone else who reads but doesn't comment...Many thanks!!!...





Reet...Nol is in the hospital after his bout of Fuge, after the revelation that his daughter Koyree has been killed...She hasn't, but that's what has been revealed to Tcheet anyways...

And Aide Trellanwr was introduced last time as an assisstant to Tcheet...Just so you know...


Empire is set in 3E 604 and this bit is currently 10 years earlier...(I'm counting back to the present, just in case you'd forgotten... )...








1.12 – Empire (pt. 9 – Know Thine Enemy – vii)








Alinor, Summerset Isles. 10 Years Earlier.







The lightning coloured the clouds of the nighttime storm an eerie pink, there was a pause in the torrent of rain against the glass, and then thunder shook the heavens and the rain redoubled its efforts.

Nol sat staring at the windows. More, not reading The Book of Arkay, than actually watching the storm.

It had been a few days since his “Incident” as the good Healer kept calling it, and his bandages were off. He was able to use his fingers, albeit painfully.

Currently, in the absence of anything decent to read, such as maybe, 1000 recipes for squid, he was using his still pained fingers to turn the pages of the religious propaganda that was The Book of Arkay. Although, he had to admit, Oostermann – if it was all his own work rather than a dictation as he suggested – was a better writer than Areldur could have credited him for. Nol could see how easily led people could get twisted up with this book.

As another blast of thunder hammered in the night, Nol blinked and rubbed his eyes. He put his hand to the luma-crystal next to the bed and held it there as the room’s light increased further.

Pushing down the blankets, Nol swung his legs over the side and stood. He then said to the seemingly empty room. “I’m going to the toilet. You can watch if you really want.” Not expecting a reply from the Shrouded guard he actually knew was in the room – Nol kept catching him falling asleep in the chair and becoming visible – he walked to the door that led to a small room in the corner.

Attending to the task at hand, he heard another peal of thunder and then a flash lit up the room from the slightly ajar door. Nol frowned, finished up and then washed his hands. Looking into the mirror, he saw a distinctly green glow coming from his room, and then another flash. He dried his hands and then pushed the door open slowly.

And there she was, stood over the somewhat smoking, prone guard. The One. The sight of her taking his breath away, as it had done every single time Nol had laid eyes on her; Even while doing something as mundane as coming back to bed after the bathroom in the night.

Cestra stood looking at him with hands opening and closing into fists, breathing deeply.

Thoughts of how, why and what the? were temporarily forgotten as they rushed to embrace, mouths finding each others’ in a desperate, feverish kiss that felt as if it was the first time all over again. Two hundred years gone in an eyeblink.

For an age they stayed together, Nol knew his body was responding to the moment, and he could hear the signs that he’d heard so often, that Cestra was feeling much the same; but then the Universe noticed and thunder rattled the windows; and the kiss that had felt like it’d lasted forever, ended, and Nol’s heart ached, because he knew...Deep down, he already knew.

There would never be another.



-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------



They held each other close for a while as Cestra wept gently.

“My baby girl.” She sniffed. “I loved her so much and I never told her. All she ever saw was me criticising. Why did I never tell her like you did Nol?”

“Sssshhhh.” Nol said. He kissed the top of Cestra’s head and stroked her hair. “She knew. I promise she knew. I told her from you often enough. I always told her you loved her too.”

Cestra looked out at the rain and cried some more.

A few tears fell from Nol’s eyes in sympathy. “Is there any chance he is lying.”

Cestra shook her head. “Ofwysyn is the most honest and true man you will ever meet.” Nol noticed the use of Tcheet’s first name. There was a pause and then Cestra continued, “Possibly the most honest man I’ve ever met actually.” Nol heard the smile in her voice and his heart broke again as he realised she was teasing him, even here and now. “He doesn’t believe he’s evil Nol, he’s doing Arkay’s bidding and that means he can do absolutely anything he believes is right. Ofwysyn is absolutely genuine Nol. So no,” she sniffed and started shaking with sobs, “he’s not lying.”

Lightning and thunder happened almost at the same time and Nol winced at the flash.

“How did you wind up here Ces?” Nol asked.

She snorted, “Isn’t it obvious?”

“It’s that simple? The guild for...You?”

Cestra nodded and sobbed some more. “I’m sorry. I tried to ignore what was going on outside as best I could. My guild was safe. It was all I could keep telling myself...I’m so sorry, I could have done something so many times, I just didn’t know about after...You know.”

“Would his troops take his death out on the families and guild?”

She nodded.

“So he definitely has the families then?”

Cestra nodded again.

“We have no choice do we? We have to work with him. No matter what that means.” Nol sighed.

Cestra pulled away from the embrace and turned her beautiful brown eyes up to his. “I’m sure you’ll think of something eventually.” she said. Cestra pulled his head down to hers and kissed him on the lips again. Then she broke away, walked a few steps and turned around.

“Sadly, all I can think of is one thing.”

“And what’s that?” Nol asked.

Cestra raised an eyebrow and a sly grin spread along her mouth, contrasting with the tear moistened cheeks. “Revenge.”

Nol opened his mouth to protest and then everything went black.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



“Mother stop!” he shouted at the retreating figure. He gave chase, leaping the spaces between the rooftops with ease and landing almost soundlessly.

The flight took in half the city, headed directly to the giant walls surrounding it; only stopping when his mother had reached the highest point, where the walls climbed above the seaward rocks in the south-west corner.

He walked towards her, arm raised, the flechette launcher on his wrist primed. “Please mother, it doesn’t have to be this way. Just come with me, we can sort this out.”

She’d laughed sweetly and said. “He says pointing that at his own mother.” She shook her head, “I love you. With everything I am, I love you my beautiful boy...Always remember that at least. But there’s no coming back from this. You know that.”

By now his friends had arrived.

His mother looked at him and simply said – “Tell your father I loved him, always.” Then she sighed, “Maybe he’ll remember someday.”

“Mother don’t. Please come away-”

She smiled, winked and tipped backwards off the wall.



---------------------------------------------------------------------------------



“MOTHER!!!” Trellanwr shouted as he woke and sat up, breathing hard.

There was a quietly insistent knock at the door. “Mister Trellanwr? Are you okay?”

“Yes Mrs Bleddyn...I’m fine.” He sighed and tried to calm his heart.

“It’s just that I’ve been trying to wake you for a few minutes? and now there’s another chap downstairs for you?” Mrs Bleddyn – his landlady – had a habit of turning anything into a question.

“Another?” asked Trellanwr.

“Yes? That’s three now, they’re quite insistent?”

Trellanwr put his hands over his face and rubbed it to try and massage some life into it. “Five minutes or so, Mrs Bleddyn, then I shall be down.”

“Okay? I just hope that no more arrive for you, they’re wetting my carpets!?”

Trellanwr smiled, then stood and went to the window. He opened the parting of the curtains and saw that the rain was still as persistent as it had been when he’d woken in the night. “Balls.” He declared.



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



“Gentlemen,” said Trellanwr as he walked into the reception room. He sipped from a mug of hot tea that Mrs Bleddyn had shoved into his hands as he reached the bottom of the stairs. “I trust you’re all about to make my day far too interesting.”

The trio all started talking at once, hoping with gesture and emphasis of voice to make their problem sound the most important of all. With the mug to his lips, Trellanwr held a hand up for silence and sighed through his nose.

Pausing his drinking, the Bosmer lowered the mug, “You.” he pointed to the Altmer on the right.

“The Overlord has urgent need of you, my Lord, Aide Trellanwr.”

Trellanwr snorted, “My Lord?” he smiled and shook his head. “And you?”

“There has been an incident in the Hospit-” The man blanched at Trellanwr’s raised eyebrow response to the slip of the tongue. “I mean...Um...Temple of the Healers just off Towershadow Road East.”

Trellanwr frowned, “East?” he repeated. The man nodded in reply, “What kind of incident?”

“Someone managed to get in and kill all the guards, and when I say all, no one knew there were so many in there in the first place. And the staff and patients seem to have all been paralysed for a time, so we really don’t know what they could have been there for.”

Trellanwr shook his head with the appearance of surprise. I know, he thought. What mischief do you bring to the party now, Fleet Admiral?

“And finally, you?” he inclined his head towards the third Altmer as he sipped more of his tea.

“There is a body...” He started and then paused.

“This is Alinor, and we are the Thalmor, this is not news.”

“True, but this one is near to the tower...It has...Impact trauma...And a significant degree of it...”

Trellanwr paused and lowered his mug further. “Male or female?” he asked.

“Female...As far as we could tell.”

Trellanwr put his half finished mug down on a nearby table and slowly walked to the window. The rain continued its relentless drenching of the city.

The Bosmer ran a hand down his beard. Balls, he thought.

Turning around he said to the three, “Right, body, Tcheet then Temple. You two either wait and come with us, or go back to whatever you were doing before you came here.” Trellanwr looked to the Altmer who would accompany him to the body, “Give me two minutes to get my rain-cloak and boots.”

He walked from the room, collecting the mug on the way past.



----------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Trellanwr knelt by the body, rain dripping from his padded waxed cotton, hooded cloak. He turned and shielded his eyes as he took in the heights of the tower. This is south, and that’s Tcheet’s suites up there.

“Have you any idea who this is, Aide Trellanwr?” asked the man that had come for him in the first place.

Oh yes, he thought.

Balls.



-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[mALX]

Not expecting a reply from the Shrouded guard he actually knew was in the room – Nol kept catching him falling asleep in the chair and becoming visible

ROFL !!!

Awesome scene with Cestra & Nol, and then URK! A cliffhanger! Great Write !!