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

[SubRosa]

Rescuing housecats?
I loved this, because in the game it often seems that every time a cat is trapped up a tree, only the player character is capable of saving it.

It was then I found out that old habits really die hard.
And how long have you been waiting for Julian to say that line, I wonder?

This episode gives us a nice little recap of not only Julian's past, but how far she has come since the beginning of the story. When she reels off all the spells she knows, she seems far less a fighter and much more a mage! Proof that her decision to join the Mages Guild was indeed the right one for her.

[Acadian]

What a wonderful conversational segment - one of my favorite types of episodes. Especially when done with your level of skill. Here, we have three individuals and you deliver their personalities with crystal clarity on a pasta-filled platter. Oh, that reminds me, thanks for the chow. I never met a pasta I didn't like.

I quite respect your style of dialogue. You blend the actual dialogue with speech tags that render clarity and supportive natural actions that bring your characters fully to life. A real pleasure to read.

Based on the hint you dropped, it does indeed seem we may get to see that rogue mage who haunts the Gold Road. I look forward to that!

“The old Gweden homestead?” Morvayn repeated. “Not that I know of. Folks don’t want to live where people died so horribly.”
You continue to tease and tantalize with hints of Julian's past and future.

*

Let's talk about nits -

“Was a time you could barely manage to heal your own scrapes!”
While begging the Captain's forgiveness, I offer that in the eyes of this humble reader, the above passage seems perfectly fine for conversation - natural even.

'I paused and allowed the memories return for the first time in years'
I suspect you want a 'to' in betwixt memories and return?

“Go where someone with my skills are most needed.'
I ask you to consider whether 'is' suits this better than 'are'. I think the verb applies here to the singular someone, not the plural skills.

[Thomas Kaira]

Morvayn’s not that accomplished a cook, If his wife had been alive, we would have seen the full seven-course meal. And it’s actually Sicilian cuisine. To most people it would be the same thing, but not to us Italians/Sicilians! As for the romance, it won’t happen in Anvil, unless you count the one that happened thirty years ago . . .

This was not a suggestion for the menu in your story, this was simply me with my recipe brain turned on. And I am very well aware that the romance was nonexistent, hence the exaggeration in the comment about it.

Now Sicilian, I do agree with you, is whole different world from mainstream Northern and Central Italian, though you do see heavy Sicilian influence in Southern Italian. Unfortunately for me, most of my expertise is in the former two, but I'll get there eventually.

I am, however, rather proficient at Japanese Fusion now. [/offtopic]


Anyways, another excellent character-building chapter. We finally get to learn a bit more about Julian, and we get a brief glimpse into what life was like for her before the legion, as well as a tantalizing hint as to what's next (possibly).

This post has been edited by Thomas Kaira: Feb 9 2011, 06:50 AM

[Olen]

the authorities can take care of that rogue mage that’s been harassing merchants

Nice line, clever. Introduce what comes alter before and all that so good stuff.

And a good part generally, it consolidated her past well and the dialogue was very clean.

[Grits]

I really enjoyed this quiet conversation over dinner. We learned so much about Julian’s past, and there’s so much coming up for us to anticipate! The subject matter was painful for both Julian and Morvayn, and I admire their calm restraint. Enilroth keeping a lid on his natural inquisitiveness (mostly) was fun to see. Now I can’t think of Enilroth without picturing him banging away with a wide grin on his face.

[mALX]

I really enjoyed this quiet conversation over dinner. We learned so much about Julian’s past, and there’s so much coming up for us to anticipate! The subject matter was painful for both Julian and Morvayn, and I admire their calm restraint. Enilroth keeping a lid on his natural inquisitiveness (mostly) was fun to see. Now I can’t think of Enilroth without picturing him banging away with a wide grin on his face.

Neither can Mrs. Oaken-Hull

[haute ecole rider]

@ Cap’n Bam Bam: Yes, tenant clearing will be a little bit interesting. As for Morvayn’s dialogue, I elected to leave ‘there’ out since he is speaking very informally with Julian. As for showing skin, well, that’s reserved for that one special man.

@mALX: We have plenty of six-foot snowbanks around here for you to dive in. Feel free! See you in the spring.

@SubRosa: Julian and I just loved your comment way back when you said Julian just can’t resist helping a cat up in a tree (me neither!). I thought it was a good idea for our readers to have a clear idea of how Julian really got injured so badly, since up until now we only had bits and pieces. Morvayn and one other person that we will meet later in the chapter are the only people with whom Julian really feels comfortable about letting her vulnerabilities show. And yes, I have plans for her future that involves more magicka!

@Acadian: You’re welcome for the chow! You know I try to feed you at least once a chapter! As for Julian’s past and future, we’ll see quite a bit of her past, and a little bit of her future.

@TK: I knew you were kidding with your comment. But not everyone knows the difference between Italian and Sicilian, and being part Italian myself (Palermo region), I couldn’t resist the opportunity to - ah - enlighten those who may most benefit from it!

@Olen: Thanks for the vote of approval on the character building in this chapter.

@Grits: I really wanted to show Enilroth as more than just another annoying Bosmer (whew, narrowly escaped alliteration there!). And there will be more of Julian’s past revealed in upcoming segments.

After an evening of good fare and better conversation, Julian finally makes her way to the Mages Guild. As we will see, this place holds its own memories for her as well.

****************************
Chapter 23.4 Friendly Mages and a Tame Imp

The Chapel bells rang twelve times as I crossed the Guild Plaza from Morvayn’s smithy to the Anvil chapterhouse of the Mages Guild. My pack still weighed down my back, since I had collected several daedra hearts. If Felen Relas was still assigned to Anvil, I knew he would appreciate fresh samples of an otherwise hard-to-come-by ingredient.

The chapterhouse was quiet as I entered. Before me, the counter stood unattended. The room and its furnishings were unchanged from my childhood memories.

“What, little imp?” The brown-haired Breton mock-growled at me, looking down from his great height. He placed his hands on the countertop and peered over its edge at what I held. “Did you steal those from Mistress Thelas’s garden?”

“No, sir!” I piped up, lifting the bunch of purple-pink blossoms up for his perusal. “Mother picked these herself!” I could barely see over the top of the counter. “She said Master Relas needed more!”

“I believe Master Relas wanted the seeds, not the flowers,” the chapter head scowled at me. “Your mother wouldn’t make such a amateur mistake, Julian. I still think you stole them from Mistress Thelas’s backyard.”

“No, sir,” I jumped up and down. “I’m telling the truth, sir!” Again I held the fragrant bouquet up. “See, Mother tied them with a ribbon like she always does!”

The Breton’s brown eyes sparkled at me, but his expression remained skeptical. “How easy would it be for you to tie a stolen bunch of bergamot flowers with your very own ribbon?”

I stamped my foot. “It’s turquoise! That means it’s Mother’s. Mine are always green!”

“Oh, so you stole your mother’s ribbon, as well?” His left brow rose. I stared at that wayward feature, and tried hard to lift my right brow in imitation. I couldn’t quite do it.

“Stop teasing the child, Master-Wizard,” Felen Relas spoke from the doorway into his alchemical studio. “You’ll likely give her ideas for the next time. Her mother wouldn’t approve of it.”

“Neither would I!” the Breton exclaimed. His forbidding expression dissolved into an puckish grin as he waved me toward the waiting Dunmer alchemist. “Scoot, little imp!”

“Thank you, sir!” I bobbed a curtsy to him as my mother had taught me. The chapter head’s chuckle followed me as I skipped to Relas and thrust my fragrant burden towards his face. As Relas accepted the bouquet, I turned around and stuck my tongue out at the Breton. “I told you I didn’t steal them!”

He spiked his left hand toward the ceiling. Sulfurous magic swirled in front of the counter and coalesced into an imp. As the creature, leathery wings flapping, turned toward me, I scampered after Relas into the studio with a squeal.

The flapping of leathery wings brought me back to the present. I blinked, looking for the brown-haired Breton. Instead, a fluttering shadow from the right appeared in the doorway, followed by a male Bosmer. His brown gaze fell on me.

“So Sparky did hear someone come in!” he exclaimed as the imp hovered at his shoulder. I watched the creature warily, but the little beast did not make any threatening moves, only watched me with wide, curious eyes. “Hello, Julian of Anvil!” the wood elf continued. “Carahil mentioned that you would be coming by tonight. Welcome to the Anvil chapter! I’m Thaurron, Journeyman.”

I tore my gaze from the lesser demon to meet the Bosmer’s gaze. “That’s Sparky?” I gestured toward the imp.

“Yes,” Thaurron grinned. “I found him when he was just a fingerling, near death beside the road. I took him in and healed him right up, and he’s hung around with me ever since!” He turned and waved the imp off. “He’s a terrific watchdog here. No one ever has to wait long for service!”

“I see -.” But I didn’t. Why would someone want to heal an injured imp? They’re such nasty creatures, and frightfully aggressive with their targeted spells.

Somehow Thaurron sensed my skepticism. “Oh, I know, I know. What possessed me to do that? I really can’t tell you why I saved his life, but he’s been a great companion since. It’s like taking in a wolf cub because you feel sorry for it, even though it could grow up into a livestock killer.” He moved back to let me into the dining hall at the rear. “Have you eaten yet?”

“Yes, I had dinner at Morvayn’s,” I answered. Thaurron’s brows rose in surprise.

“The smith?” He shook his head. “Do you know him?”

“My brother apprenticed to him over thirty years ago,” I followed Thaurron toward the stairs.

“That’s before my time,” Thaurron opened the door at the top of the stairs. He led me through. “This is the library,” he murmured softly. “Carahil and Felen Relas have already turned in for the night. We do have a guest bed, but it’s upstairs.”

So Felen Relas is still alchemist here. But where is the chapter head? “Lead on, sir,” I nodded my willingness to follow. Thaurron smiled and did so.

At the top of the second flight we entered an attic room with three gables, one on either side and the third directly across from the door. Thaurron pointed at the wide bed in front of us. “That’s the guest bed, Julian,” he said. “Marc!”

A Breton seated off to the right lifted his head from a book. His brown eyes brightened when his gaze fell on me. “Welcome, Hero of Kvatch!” With a finger tucked between the pages to hold his place, he rose and held his right hand out to me. “I’m Marc Gulitte, Mages Guild Evoker, and advanced trainer in destruction.” His grip was firm and confident as we shook hands. He waved toward the double bed. “You can sleep there. I take it you were at Skingrad before coming here?”

I slid a glance at him before setting my pack down on the wide mattress. Gulitte grinned widely, exchanging an I-told-you-so look with Thaurron. “Yes, I was,” I confirmed him as Sparky fluttered lazily after me. I noticed the imp’s eyes were fixed on my pack. “Thaurron, what does he eat?”

“Oh, Sparky!” Thaurron tossed a mild spell at the imp. “No, no, no!” The creature returned to the Bosmer’s side, looking sheepish, if that were possible. “Anything we eat,” Thaurron continued. “He’s been taught to eat only what we give him.” He selected an apple from a bowl on a nearby desk. Sparky watched with intense anticipation as Thaurron cut the fruit into thin slices. He handed three to me. “Here, give him one at a time.”

Sparky remained fixated on the bulk of the apple, still resting on the desk. Thaurron smiled at me. “Just whistle. You do know how to whistle, don’t you?”

“Just put your lips together and blow,” I answered, and did so. Sparky’s head turned sharply toward me, and he looked into my face. When I held up the apple slice, he fluttered eagerly over and reached for it. His grasp was surprisingly gentle, and he waited until I released the apple before conveying it to his mouth. He held it in both hands and nibbled delicately on it. I watched, captivated in spite of myself, as his wings worked to keep him roughly eye level with me. He met my gaze when he finished the slice, licking the last of the juice from his lips.

“What was that spell you used on him?” I asked, handing another slice to the gentle imp.

“That was a very mild drain magicka spell,” Thaurron replied. “Lasts as long as it takes you to blink. It’s mostly to get his attention more than anything else. I made it at the University when I was trying to train him.” He tilted his head at me. “Do you have anything edible in your pack?”

“I have some daedra hearts in there, for the alchemist here,” I answered. “He probably smells them, even though I rinsed them off.”

“No wonder he was trying to investigate!” Thaurron moved to a trunk that sat at the foot of the bed. He cast an unlock spell at it, and swung the lid up. “Stow your gear in there, and I’ll spell-lock it right up.”

I noticed the trunk had a conventional lock as well. “If you have the key for it -“

“Oh, Sparky can pick the usual locks,” Thaurron picked up my pack and gave me a quizzical look. I nodded my acquiescence, and he set it within the trunk with a soft thump. Then he closed the lid and cast a second spell at it. “But Sparky can’t unlock magical locks. It’s the only way to keep things safe from him!”

“Even if he’s trained to leave food alone?” I asked, smiling to myself.

“Ach, it’s his streak for trouble that I don’t trust! What’s to stop him from picking the lock while we’re asleep?” Thaurron laughed heartily, his eyes on the imp. To my surprise, Sparky smiled and imitated his master, his laughter a tinkling counterpoint to Thaurron’s deeper tone.

“Felen Relas will be glad of those hearts,” Gulitte offered. “I’m certain he’ll pay you well for them, too.”

I whistled to bring Sparky back to me. “It will be good to see him again.” The imp took the last apple slice from me. I moved to the bed and sat down.

“You must be tired,” Gulitte remarked. Again his brown eyes twinkled as he smiled. “Don’t worry, there are no musical beds here like there is at Skingrad!”

“Good,” I couldn’t stop the flush that spread across my cheeks. “But tell me, who is the chapter head?”

“Carahil, of course!” Gulitte responded. “She inherited the chapter house from Traven when he was elected Arch Mage a few years ago. She runs a clean house, just like he did.”

I stared at the Breton. “Hannibal Traven is the Arch Mage now?” I asked.

The two mages stared at me. “You didn’t know?” Thaurron asked.

“I’ve only heard the other mages speak of the new Arch Mage, but never by his name,” I shrugged.

“Where were you four years ago when he was elected?” Thaurron couldn’t believe it. “No, almost five years ago! Under a rock?”

I couldn’t hide my wince. “Something like that,” I admitted.

“Hush, Thaurron,” Gulitte made a shushing motion with his hands. He turned back to me. “Since you’ve been closing Oblivion Gates all over Cyrodiil, I hope you’ve been wined and dined by the good folks of Anvil tonight.”

I shook my head with a smile. “Just Varel Morvayn,” I answered.

“And is your brother still living here in Anvil?” Thaurron asked. “You mentioned he was apprenticed to the smith.”

“He died several years ago.” I pulled the coverlet down. “If you don’t mind -“

“Not at all!” Gulitte put his book down and lowered the flame on his lamp. “I’m off to bed, myself. Keep quiet, Thaurron!”

[SubRosa]

Cap’n Bam Bam? Sounds like somebody's been watching the Flintstones. Or pr0n!

So Julian ran afoul of the old curmudgeon Traven when she was a child. That was an excellent little piece, as it not only shows us that the MG hall is a place filled with memories, but also gives us yet another piece of her childhood. It seems that Julian has not been reading the Black Horse Courier while she was off the wagon, else she would have known about his promotion.

Am I the only one who always sees Marc Gillette rather than Gulitte?

Sparky was wonderful. It always seems so odd to see an imp for a pet. But you portray him in a very believable, realistic fashion. Sometimes I have considered adding a mascot for the Bravil FG, like a lion cub (ala the Lafayette Escadrille).

“Don’t worry, there are no musical beds here like there is at Skingrad!”
I was thinking that Gillette had the misfortune of spending a night at the Skingrad guild hall from his first mention of the city (when Julian was looking at the bed). Now it definitely appears to be so. I wonder how he reacted to Vigge climbing into bed with him!

All in all, a much more friendly, and less creepy, introduction to the Anvil MG than that of Skingrad. I know which one I would choose to stay at!

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Feb 10 2011, 06:36 PM

[Acadian]

What a treat this delightful story was! Despite only a few apple slices to eat, it was fabulous.

'I stamped my foot. “It’s turquoise! That means it’s Mother’s. Mine are always green!”
“Oh, so you stole your mother’s ribbon, as well?” His left brow rose. I stared at that wayward feature, and tried hard to lift my right brow in imitation. I couldn’t quite do it.
AHAH! So there is, or at least used to be, a girlie girl in there. How fabulously cute she must have been.

He spiked his left hand toward the ceiling. Sulfurous magic swirled in front of the counter and coalesced into an imp. As the creature, leathery wings flapping, turned toward me, I scampered after Relas into the studio with a squeal.
The flapping of leathery wings brought me back to the present.
As you snapped me from the flashback to the present, I was stunned at the masterful manner in with which you did it. What a magnificent transition!

Sparky!!! Woohoo! I love him!

'Where were you four years ago when he was elected?” Thaurron couldn’t believe it. “No, almost five years ago! Under a rock?”
I couldn’t hide my wince. “Something like that,” I admitted.
Oh wow. I winced too as I conjured images of poor Julian at her addicted worst. I'm so proud of how far she's come!

[Grits]

Alliteration!

Little girl Julian was utterly charming. I enjoyed the look into the Anvil Guild’s past with playful Master Traven. I knew he was the chapter head, but somehow I never pictured him there. I look forward to meeting Carahil.

“Just whistle. You do know how to whistle, don’t you?”

“Just put your lips together and blow,” I answered, and did so.

Delightful!! I expected Thaurron to call her Steve. Sparky the light-fingered imp, I love it! He comes to life as vividly as your non-demonic characters. What a thoroughly enjoyable evening in Anvil!

[Thomas Kaira]

I knew you were kidding with your comment. But not everyone knows the difference between Italian and Sicilian, and being part Italian myself (Palermo region),

Are we contradicting ourselves, now? (Sorry, couldn't resist.)

“Where were you four years ago when he was elected?” Thaurron couldn’t believe it. “No, almost five years ago! Under a rock?”

I liked this lore stab. Very agreeable with Morrowind, as Trebonius most likely stepped down (or lost the duel, whichever path you chose) early in 3E 428.

“Ach, it’s his streak for trouble that I don’t trust! What’s to stop him from picking the lock while we’re asleep?” Thaurron laughed heartily, his eyes on the imp. To my surprise, Sparky smiled and imitated his master, his laughter a tinkling counterpoint to Thaurron’s deeper tone.

Sparky: ehehehehehe

Loved the little segue into Julian's childhood, too!

This post has been edited by Thomas Kaira: Feb 11 2011, 03:44 AM

[Captain Hammer]

Cap'n Bam Bam? While a fan of the Flinstones myself in my younger years, I think that's the first somebody's referenced my by that. And I definitely don't think he'd be found on a Lipizzaner any time soon.

I enjoyed the reference to Traven's previous position at Anvil. That was one of the parts of the game that always upset me the most. They make a huge deal in some of the in-game books, but you only really hear about it once or twice from the actual people. Even Lorgren Benirus seems to be more clued in with Anvil's guildhall happenings than the rest of Cyrodiil, and he's (un-)dead!

Good to see that this time, at least, Julian will be enjoying a more secure night's sleep.

This post has been edited by Captain Hammer: Feb 11 2011, 10:09 PM

[Olen]

That was quite a bit of building... as said actually mentioning Traven as head of Anvil is a good touch, I could never really see him as a local master but it sort of brought it to life. Otehr than Carahil's objection to necromancy you wouldn't know in game really. Their little jab at the Skingrad guild was good too, it showed a bit of rivalry but also suggests that the Skingrad guild is widely looked down upon (and it would be).

The flashback went a long way in giving the guildhall a sense of history and backstory, it seems somewhat like home for Julian, whereas other places have been new. The change is an enjoyable one.

And I look forward to her meeting Carahil and Relas.

I found him when he was just a fingerling

Is fingerling a word you invented? It's perfect for a baby imp...

[Thomas Kaira]

Is fingerling a word you invented? It's perfect for a baby imp...

Nope, it's very much real. I know that because (surprise surprise) it gets used a lot in the culinary trade. (very small potatoes are called fingerlings).

[haute ecole rider]

@SubRosa: I’m glad you enjoyed that little scene between little Julian and a much younger Traven. I wanted to show a lighter side of him than what we see in-game. And yes, until I started writing this, Marc had the same name as the disposable razor, then it was a d’oh! Moment. Sparky was fun to write. I wanted to make more of him than just a pair of flapping wings. And yes, Marc probably stopped the night at Skingrad on his way out to his posting at Anvil.

@Acadian: Julian’s mother was the girly one, Julian herself was more tomboyish. Still, she has her moments. I remember writing that transition - it was an all-too-rare moment of genius, so thanks for noticing.

@Grits: Yes, those two lines you quoted are a nod of respect to one of my favorite couples, Lauren and Humphrey. They were so hot together. And just as dogs love to steal things off the kitchen counter (especially the Sunday roast), Sparky the imp loves to explore other people’s belongings.

@TK: I missed that part of lore, but I’m glad it worked out so well. I knew he had to have become Arch Mage recently as people are still talking about it. And Sparky’s not just an imp, he’s an imp!

@Cap’n H: Yes, I figured Traven made a big impression on Julian when she was little, since he had to have been chapter head at the time. Carahil is older, but for some reason she didn’t get it. Goes to show how cleverly manipulative Traven can be, and I think the MG questline only bears that out.

@Olen: Thanks for picking up on the fact that Anvil is Julian’s old stomping grounds and that she has a lot of history here. Yes, it was her second home, as we will see. And fingerling, I think refers to an immature fish (as well as tiny potatoes, TK is right), but it works for a baby imp IMHO.

Of all the folks in Anvil, I like Morvayn, Felen Relas, and Carahil the best. I think Morvayn and Relas are my two favorite Dunmer men in all of Cyrodiil. And I never could shake the feeling that Carahil’s brisk, efficient manner hides a heart of gold.

***************************
Chapter 23.5 A Reunion with an Old Friend

Cup of steaming klah in hand, I wandered into the alchemy lab just off the lobby. It seemed little changed from my memories. I looked around, studying the furnishings and inhaling the mingled scents of the various ingredients.

Bergamot. Aloe vera. Thistle seeds. Horsetail kelp. Relas still keeps his shop organized the same way. I recognized the battered stool tucked away beneath the long work counter at the back of the room. Relas used to make me sit there, out of his way, while he worked at his alchemical equipment spread along the counter. I would read whatever book he gave me to occupy my time while I waited for him to finish his tasks.

From the time I could first walk down to Anvil with my mother, I had bonded with the aged Dunmer alchemist. Something about the way he regarded my questions with that air of seriousness always made me feel intelligent. While my mother traded her produce for essentials at the harborfront, Cieran and I would sit with Relas. Cieran always fidgeted, and eventually began spending time over in Morvayn’s smithy. But I adored Felen Relas with his quiet voice, his unflappable manner, and that pomaded brown hair that he sculpted into a peak like a conical hat.

“Hello, Master Relas!” I skipped into the workroom, a heavy volume in my arms. “Mother sent me to return this book,” I managed to lift it onto the counter. “She says thank you very much, it was very helpful!”

“Did you read it yourself, Julian?” Relas accepted the Fundaments of Alchemy and turned away to place it on his desk.

I toed the floor. “No, sir, I didn’t.” I bolted from the workroom, through the lobby into the sitting room on the other side. Master Wizard Traven’s puckish complaints about the sound of my little feet lent speed to my passing. I found the book Carahil had been reading resting on the side table. Making certain her ribbon still marked her place, I carried it back to Relas, sticking my tongue out at Traven as I passed him. “I want to read this!” I held the volume up to the alchemist.

“The Real Barenziah,” he read aloud. “I’m not certain your mother would want you reading that.”

“I want to read this one!” I insisted, clambering onto the stool next to the counter. I retrieved the book from him and opened it on the counter, leaning forward to look at the pages. “It’s about a princess and a king and a knight - Carahil told me!”

“But there are no pictures in this one,” Relas closed the book firmly, but not before I had a chance to be dismayed by the mass of text that filled the first page. “Would you prefer I tell you the story myself?”

“Would you, sir?” I clapped my hands.

“Once there was a beautiful princess named Barenziah -“ his voice took on a melodic quality as he told the story of a Dunmer princess who was orphaned at an early age, raised as a poor relation far from home in the far north of Skyrim, and eventually returned to Morrowind and reclaimed her inheritance as Queen. I listened, cheeks propped in my palms, with my eyes following him around the workroom as he continued his tasks beneath the story.

“Looking for Felen?” Carahil’s voice roused me out of my reverie. I turned to look at the beautiful Altmer. She was another member of the Anvil chapter that I considered my friend. She was the one who taught me the basic flare spell, though she once despaired of ever succeeding.

“Yes, I wanted to say hello to him,” I waved my hand around the empty room. “I have to be at the castle by seven bells, but I was hoping to catch him before I left.”

“You missed him,” Carahil shook her head regretfully. “He left at dawn this morning. His supplies have become low, since it has been too dangerous to venture out of the city with that Oblivion Gate. Felen is anxious to restock his shelves, but he hopes to see you when he gets back.”

“I understand,” I nodded. Carahil motioned for me to follow her. “Belated congratulations on your promotion, ma’am.”

“Come, Julian. Let’s sit a bit before it’s time for you to leave for your audience.”

We seated ourselves in the sitting room across the lobby from the alchemy shop. As I settled back in the comfortable chair, Carahil regarded me. “You know, Julian, I was surprised to learn that you had joined the Mages Guild, and furthermore, you were traveling for recommendations.”

“Who would have thought?” I asked, thinking of those days when I struggled to even generate a spark from my fingers. “But my years of training in the Legion has prepared me well for the discipline that mages require, it seems.”

“Tell me, what do you know?” Carahil steepled her fingers before her ageless face.

I started off with the spells I had learned since leaving the prison sewers. I told Carahil of my experimentation with the alchemy equipment in my humble Waterfront shack. Then I described how I had integrated magicka usage with my combat techniques. She seemed very interested in what I had learned of the Deadlands and of the strengths and weaknesses of the various daedra I had encountered.

When I mentioned my thoughts about the sigil stones and their varying strengths, she leaned forward with intense interest. “Really? The stone from the one you closed immediately after it opened felt the weakest of them all?”

I nodded. “When I think about it, there weren’t as many corpses in there, either. But Skingrad and Anvil were the worst ones for the butchery I saw in there.”

“The one here has been open for a month,” Carahil mused. After a moment’s thought, her eyes brightened suddenly. “Something just occurred to me. Excuse me a moment, I’ll go check something in the library.”

As she disappeared upstairs, I leaned back and enjoyed the klah. Breakfast had been a do-it-yourself affair, but I had easily satisfied my early morning pangs with a bowl of mixed fruit, a few thick slices of cheese and a chunk of bread. Too bad there aren’t any bakers like Salmo here in Anvil. Those sweet rolls are outrageous! Again I saw Vigge the Cautious in his strained finery. Then again, maybe it’s a good thing. That’s a temptation I don’t want to struggle with.

I set my mug down on the small table next to my chair. My gaze fell onto a somewhat familiar green covered book. The Lusty Argonian Maid? Sounds like nighttime reading. Idly I picked it up and flipped through the pages. A phrase caught my eye: Here, polish my spear.

“Julian! What book is that?” The tall Altmer swept across the library in a swirl of burgundy and gold fabric and bent down to me. Before I could meet her gaze she had plucked the book out of my hands. “Oh, dear! If your mother were to find out -“ She turned from me and placed the volume with the green cover on the highest shelf of the bookcase behind me - impossibly high for me to reach. She turned back to me and took a deep breath, smoothing back her strawberry-blond bangs. “My dear child,” she knelt down beside my chair. “There are some books you must not read. That’s one of them. If your mother finds out you were reading such books here, she will forbid you to come here ever again. Is that understood?”

“You mean, never to see Master Relas again?” I asked. “Or Master Traven? Or -“ I swallowed, holding her green eyes with my own, “- you ever again?”

Solemnly Carahil nodded. “Yes, your mother has the right. At least until you turn eighteen, that is.” Her eyes sparkled with sudden humor. “By then, it won’t matter if you get caught reading that book anyway!”

I frowned, puzzled. Carahil patted my small hand. “Don’t worry about it, Julian. By the time you’re eighteen, you’ll understand.”

“But that’s -“ I paused to count on my fingers. I had to count the fingers of my left hand twice. “- that’s twelve years away!”

“Only twelve years?” Carahil repeated. “Posh! You’ll be eighteen before you know it!”

“But I don’t understand why I can’t read that book,” I would not give up. “All it’s about is a girl polishing some old man’s spear!”

Carahil’s golden skin suffused a startling color as she choked, coughed and spluttered into a long-fingered hand. Finally she was able to take another deep breath, fanning herself with her other hand. “Julian, dear, you are still too young to understand the real meaning of that book.” She sighed. “But the day will come when you will understand all too well.”

Laughter spilled through my nose before I could stop myself. Yes, I understand all too well now.

“What is so funny, Julian?” Carahil asked, returning with a thick volume in her hands. I showed her the green book. Her eyes widened as she read the title.

“I completely forgot about this book,” I explained between chuckles. “I’d say I’ve understood it for thirty years at least, but I’d completely forgotten about the book!”

Carahil’s eyes brightened, and her chuckle told me she had recalled the same conversation I had. “So now you know about spear polishing, do you understand why I was so scandalized to catch you with that book? All of six years old and you were reading smut!”

I laughed. “Only I didn’t know it was smut!” I defended myself. “And by the time I reached eighteen, I had forgotten about it.”

“Of course, by the time you were eighteen -“ Carahil’s smile faded. “You had other things on your mind,” she finished sadly.

My mother. My brother. Jared. I nodded silently.

Carahil held up the book in her hands. “You may be on to something, Julian. Have you ever read this book?”

I squinted at the title. “Spirit of the Daedra?” I considered it for a moment, then shook my head. “No, Carahil, that was one of the books you kept on the top shelf in the library. The same shelf as this,” I held up The Lusty Argonian Maid.

“Ah, yes, it was not considered suitable material for a six-year old child,” Carahil nodded at the memory. “Anyway, in this book, it discusses how the daedra are not truly killed when you destroy their physical manifestation.”

“Really?” I leaned forward as Carahil sat down in the chair she had previously occupied.

“Hmm hmm. ‘We do not die. We do not fear death. Destroy the Body, and the Animus is cast into The Darkness. But the Animus returns.’” She met my gaze. “It makes me wonder if mortal souls travel the same path, but are somehow trapped in these sigil stones to provide the magical energy needed to keep the portals open.”

“Kind of like soul gems?” I asked.

“Maybe,” Carahil shrugged. “There are so much we don’t understand about Oblivion. But these observations of yours are very interesting.”

“Thanks, Carahil,” I drained the last of the klah. “I need to leave for the Countess’s audience. But I’ll be back afterwards to discuss the recommendation with you.” I looked down at the simple linens I wore. “Are these suitable for meeting the Countess?”

“Oh, Julian!” Carahil smiled as she took my empty cup from me. “Countess Umbranox is very practical. She won’t expect you to be dressed in gaudy silks!” She waved me away. “Now shoo!”

[mALX]

The memories are thick in Anvil, my fave:

Julian as a child wanting to read "The Real Barenziah" and Relas telling it in story form - leaving out the R & X rated parts - that was cute.

Another part I liked: Julian wanders about with her cup of coffee (klah) - gee, why does that sound so familiar? ROFL !!

Great Chapter !!

[SubRosa]

I carried it back to Relas, sticking my tongue out at Traven as I passed him.
I love this! Little Julian is so adorable!

Again I saw Vigge the Cautious in his strained finery
Now there is something I would rather not see!

that’s twelve years away!
Longer than the First Age! I love this. It is a wonderful example of how when we are children, becoming a grown-up seems like an impossibly long time away.

This was my favorite of the coming home chapters so far. Julian's stroll down memory lane is positively delightful. From racing through the guild hall, to hearing the story of the not quite so real Barenziah from Felen Relas (am I the only one who thinks of an ice cream cone when they see that hairstyle?), and finally to Carahil, one of the coolest chicks in Cyrodiil.

[Acadian]

This had a wonderful natural flow to it and was a real pleasure to read. Little Julian is indeed adorable!

I'm so glad you like Carahil. I very much do as well. Hers would certainly be our second favorite guild hall to hail from.

It was nice to follow up some on Julian's observations that the power of a sigil stone may be related to how long the gate it held open remained open. I can see why Carahil would be interested.

This post has been edited by Acadian: Feb 13 2011, 03:13 AM

[Thomas Kaira]

Carahil as I remember her in the game was very stiff and by the book. I'm liking this new version of her, she much warmer, and has so much significance to Julian. I can foresee her not being too thrilled about assigning Julian the rogue mage task... and who knows? Maybe she won't?

“But I don’t understand why I can’t read that book,” I would not give up. “All it’s about is a girl polishing some old man’s spear!”

That line brought little Julian all the way up to the level of Princess for me! It was just that charming.

As for the Sigil Stones, you are getting quite insightful into them... many of the points you bring up I have a feeling will make it into my own personal canon (and I mean in general, not the fan-fic).

Great fun to read!

[Olen]

The referances to in game books were great, and made me chuckle. Young children have an uncanny ability to find anything they shouldn't... I'm enjoying the flashbacks too, and re-meeting old characters from her past.

My mother. My brother. Jared. I nodded silently.

So this Jared was around when she was young before the legion, and was from Anvil... I'm wondering when we'll find out more.

And next the countess, I suspect Julian might get on with her better than the other counts.