Hallooo!!...Yes, I know, it’s been a while…Apologies…It’s been…One of those years, sadly…
Aaaamywho, back now with some story for you!!...This (and the one that follows it) has been written since May and was produced at what I will laughingly refer to as “The Height Of My Powers!” BWAHAHAAA!!!...
Yeah, don’t say it…
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Anyways, I’m doing more…Whether it’ll be as good, as I just stopped writing completely…Never even thought about it over the summer…*Shrug*…
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To your amazing comments…
Firstly, I’m so sorry I got behind on everyone else’s stories…Yes, I know I said they’re not going anywhere the other day…It doesn’t stop me feeling bad that I’m well behind on H.E.R.’s awesomeness and Darkness’ amazing Gladiatorness…
However, just because I haven’t commented, doesn’t mean I’m not reading without logging in…I’m just getting bad with the commenting now too…
And as for these responses to your comments to
me I apologies if they’re obviously a little rusty…Perhaps I should have kept them to shuffling the feet and “Ta…” but you know me…In love with the sound of my own typing…
Aaaamywho…To business…
Acadian!!! - Ta!...It was one of them “Start it off and let it run” things that I absolutely loved writing…
As was coming up with the evolution of the town…It’s something I’d love them to do in an Elder Scrolls game…A step on from Hearthfire (the house building DLC thing)…Unlikely to happen, but we can dream!...
Yes, Tharryn’s been there, done that…Which gives me the excuse to go off on one here and there…
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Cheers matey!!...
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Subrosa!!! - Thank you so much!...
Yeah, I am constantly awed by the advances the Templars made – and the influence they still have – to/in life today…I just love re-reading their history…Pretty awesome bunch from the get-go really…
While I wear the Templar/Hospitaller thing on my sleeve with much of this, I do divert a lot where the poor knight thing is concerned…And it’s very much deliberate as – should I manage to get there – this plays into stuff much further down the line…Tharryn and many of the other knights are rich, from rich families – as the old, non-Ordered crusaders were…Rich bored boys in need of a good fight…Oh, I have a bit that explains it all coming later…
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Glad you enjoyed the story of the Nord though…Much appreciated…Hugely so…
Thanks for reading!!...
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Haute Ecole Rider!!! - Cheers!!...
Yes, I will admit that I like to do stuff differently…
…Not entirely as a conscious reaction, but I do what I feel is right [/Kenobi] for how my stories go…So jumping about with time/interludes and all that…Should they completely derail the plot, then…Pffft…*Shrug*…
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I’m so glad that you it’s not too jarring for you…I appreciate hugely that you keep coming back…
I did love picturing the town meself…Perhaps I’ll retire there when it’s all done…
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Huge thanks H.E.R…I appreciate it…
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Treydog!!! - The narration thing comes from Magnum – as if you couldn’t guess – and yes, it breaks the fourth wall etc/yawn
…But I’m really enjoying his “Telling” the story...And yes, his doubts and irritations and stuff are fun to play with…
Thank you so much for everything matey…Your continued enthusiasm and awesomeness are very much a joy to receive…
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Huge thanks matey…I hope I continue to make it worth coming back for…
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Darkness Eternal!!! – Awright matey?!...
Cheers!!!...I’m glad you and everyone liked the whole thing with the Nord…It was different for me too…To have someone like that – seeking redemption and all…I mean, at heart, was he good or evil?...Or just “human”?...I don’t know what I would have done in Tharryn’s shoes...I know what Tharryn does, obviously, but it’s a huge question…And I’m so grateful for everyone’s compliments on this one…
Thank you so much for reading, it’s hugely appreciated…
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Grits!!! - Huge thanks!!!...
I am/was thoroughly enjoying writing this one…Tharryn is very much a joy to write…I hope that comes through…
I loved making the stuff up about the duties…I wanted to show that it wasn’t just stabby-stabby-kill-kill all the time…Y’know?...
Ta!!...
And again, I’m so glad that everyone loved the Non-Y-Prydferth thing…Like I said, I’m quite happy to move there,
right now!!... :-D ...
Handras and his problems may be delayed a little…Ooops…Another excursion I’m afraid…It’s worth it though…
Thank you so much for reading, much appreciated!!...
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Much huge thanks to everyone who read, always appreciated…*Bows*…
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To the story!!!...
Previously on…
We met a Brother-Knight of The Church named Tharryn who, on his way back from elsewhere chanced upon a Bosmer family and stopped to chat…This, as with many other things do, led him to one of them mental diversions that we all have from time to time…
This led pretty instantly to a diversion discussing the difficult nature of and agonies thrown up from confessions…The first from a Nord, a former pirate…
And the second...Well…It might not be quite what it first appears to be…
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Part 2.3 – An Imperial Courtier/The Mistress of the Emperor/The Ambiguous and IndefiniteThe second most vexing confession that I ever took involved an Imperial courtier named Darius Glent.
The man was as popular as it was possible for someone with no genuine power – other than the force of his personality – to be. A philosopher; polymath; social commentator; author of fiction, treatise, great books of learning; playwright; artist; sculptor. Entrance into his circle of friends guaranteed the ascension of your status to that of Worthy of Note; and your name and deeds being written about in the daily and weekly columns throughout the world of papered newssheets.
Guest of nobles and scholars, artisans and charlatans; favourite of kings and champion of vagabonds; his undoubted willingness to embrace all the spectrum of life through the sheer mountain of charitable works he undertook made him the darling of each and every walk of life.
Caula Voria, Empress and estranged wife of Uriel Septim was particularly fond of Glent, and many were the not-really-unfounded rumours of how close the friendship had become. His confession never mentioned the Empress one way or another though. This does not mean there
was no deeper relationship, however; and given all else that he had done through his life, a little fraternisation with an estranged married woman – Empress or not – would likely rank as no sin whatsoever.
While no living saint, the man was clearly idolised by many for so many reasons within the range his life encompassed.
One would wonder, however, where he managed to get the time to also live a second life, one as a rapist and murderer of quite some note.
I will spare the gruesome details; suffice to say, as a murderer, the courtier was as thorough as he had been in his other pursuits.
My original genesis with the matter was soon after I had become a Brother-Captain, some forty years ago. Over a period of several days, women had been found locked in their houses – from the inside – within separate districts. A rune had been burnt into the door at each location, the rune for death.
Though even now, no clear record of the true extent of the killings exists, by way of my friends, acquaintances and peers throughout The Church at the time, I was able to piece together that these particularly disturbing acts of vivisection were occurring throughout the Empire.
It is now so many years later than either the killings or his confessing to them and I
still find it difficult to imagine that all this horror was accomplished by one man, but the absolute cocksure certainty that Glent possessed still, even on his death bed; the relish with which he related killing after killing; picking out key details that I remember omitting from public records. There could have been no doubt that the courtier had indeed been the killer.
His fame had guaranteed that his every move would be watched by all, except when in his room alone; and the fact that he was watched so closely meant that almost nobody
could have suspected him. Just one man amongst how many millions of others in this world and the brightness of his fame blinded almost all.
Of course, the one person that
had pointed a finger at him – an old DaTyrk vagabond – was, unfortunately, precisely the sort of person that those in the position to do anything about the warning she brought would dismiss out of hand.
Fortune – if you could call it that, with hindsight – found our paths crossed.
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The DaTyrk was an old – though only of late so – woman; still possessing a fierce beauty with her dark hair streaked with the steel-shade of age, warm ochre coloured skin that evidenced the Elsweyr sun-drenched heritage of her race, and wide, beautiful eyes that at that moment were taking in the company we were in.
She had tracked us down – the Watch investigator I was working with at the time, one inspector Shepherd Garrick, and I – whilst we were at one of the crime scenes.
The woman, with her intense, burnt sand coloured eyes boring into mine, claimed she had seen a vision of the courtier killing the mistress of the Emperor Uriel Septim in her dreams. Sadly, everyone – bar me – had laughed out of hand. I
had silenced them with a sharp rebuke, but to no use, the DaTyrk had already fled the room. As close as I had been behind her, as I exited and looked up and down the street, she had – rather predictably – vanished into thin air.
After a reminder that in a world full of magic, premonitions of the future were no more outlandish than the ability to drag creatures through from other dimensions to do peoples’ bidding, we decided to investigate further; even though that meant asking awkward questions of the most powerful man in Tamriel.
At the Imperial Palace, a young Breton lieutenant led us to an antechamber where we were to await the summons of the Emperor.
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“Gentlemen, if you would please come in.” a deep, resonant voice called through an open door to our right.
We followed the instruction and found ourselves in an open, spacious office with nothing lacking in the way of large windows, one of which was open, allowing a fresh breeze into the room.
Many filled to bursting bookcases, several strides long and ornament cabinets covered with the accumulation of many years of collecting were numerous enough to have some against the wall, and others set out into the room.
Trophies of beastly conquests hung on one wall, on another, a pair of Yokudan tapestries. And here and there, paintings – mostly landscapes, watercolour and oil based – were placed pleasingly around the room.
A large marbled fireplace, that would have dominated the room of any average person, sat diminished by the size of the mahogany panelled wall it was built into, the grate currently unused, unlit. The unburnt corners of some document still sat atop the remains of the most recent use.
Nearby, a pair of sofas sat opposite each other, a low table between them; a sign of how The Emperor relaxes with his guests perhaps.
We made our way towards the far end of the deep red carpeted room and the majesty we were here to speak to.
In a moment that was almost indescribable in its strangeness, it became instantly obvious that it was not
The Emperor that sat behind an oak desk that was strewn with papers to one side, a half opened map in front of him and a pitcher and beaker at his right hand; it was ‘merely’ Uriel Septim, the man. Having only seen his majesty on ceremonial occasions – and those from a distance – in full regalia, it was a shock to see him seated behind a desk in a neatly pressed white shirt and leather waistcoat.
I suppose it is entirely logical that there would be no need of the robes of office when merely working
at said office, but it was nevertheless a lurch for the mind to accept.
The man I still have trouble thinking of as merely Uriel looked up from his map and smiled, and a genuine one at that.
“Now, how can I help you fine officers today? I understand,” Septim tilted his closely cropped grey-haired head towards his assistant waiting patiently in the corner of the room, “you’re looking into these despicable murders in my city. How goes it?”
“I wish we had better news, sire.” Answered my cohort, “But so far, there’s little to determine anything concrete; the only…slightest possibility of a lead,” my friend looked over at me with a hint of a disapproving frown visible, “is one we felt necessary to follow up on; despite the somewhat…
ambiguous and indefinite nature of it.”
The Emperor raised his eyebrows. “Oh?” he said simply, “This office has all the time in the world for the ambiguous and indefinite,
of course. But I must ask…” Uriel paused, and a small smile tugged at the edge of his mouth, “Why was it necessary, at
this particular time, to bring it to my
personal attention?”
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*DaTyrk – Nomadic, Imperial/human tribe from southern Elsweyr…Basically Turkish-ish sort of thing…
Aslo to be found here…
In this post from some time ago now...
This post has been edited by McBadgere: Sep 20 2014, 05:20 PM