Blood on the Moon, A Journey of Discovery Options

[treydog]

@SubRosa- Athlain is discovering that he is more like his father than he used to believe. But their attitude toward the gods has always been one point of complete agreement.

I think our cats think THEY should be worshiped--- and we appear to be reinforcing that view......

Yep- Hircine is the "master" of this game, so he gets to define the rules as he chooses- which is still "cheating" as far as I am concerned. And there was a lot of pent-up tension when she FINALLY (believed) she saw the being that has been invading her head and causing her great torment for the last several months....

@Renee- As to why Hircine has made Athynae the object of his... machinations? My take on it, based only loosely on The Lore, is that the Great Hunt is designed to bring together a number of "players," who must battle one another for the "honor" of at last facing Hircine himself. And those players are chosen due to their own prowess in battle. More about who Hircine was seeking will be revealed--- but not yet.

@Everyone- so, finally, a time change day post. I probably missed a bet by not also posting on Leap Day, seeing as how infrequent my updates tend to be. Maybe I can post another on on Pi Day- which is not so far off... For now, let the Hunt proceed.....

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“Open the damned door!” My voice was deep and my hands were relaxed as they grasped the hilt of Dreamer, my beloved katana, but only by way of extensive training. The rest of my body was as tight as the string on my bow. Before Athlain could throw the latch I spoke again.

“Lainie, this is it. If we go forward, there is no turning back.” I knew he understood that; the words were more for myself. My heart was racing and, for the first time, I felt doubt. I doubted my abilities; I doubted Athlain’s abilities; I doubted whether we should do this, face a Daedric prince, on his terms, on his ground. I took a deep breath to push the doubts away. Athlain waited quietly as I composed myself. I don't think I had ever appreciated his ability to be silent as much as I did at that moment. I squared my shoulders and spoke more firmly, “We have to do this; my heart tells me we have no choice. He has caused too much pain and suffering. It is up to us to do whatever it takes to stop him and send him back to where he came from. The only way we can do it is together.”

I took my right hand from Dreamer’s hilt and placed it over his heart. “You have become a great warrior, Athlain. And I am proud to call you my friend.” I smiled as tears pooled but didn’t spill.

I started to pull my hand back and he reached and entwined his fingers with mine. “You are and have always been my best friend. You have been my mentor, my instructor and my greatest adversary, mainly because you refused to give up on me even when I wanted to give up on myself. I want one more promise from you.” He paused and looked into my eyes, his gaze direct and determined. “You must fight to live.”

My breath caught as his words mirrored my thoughts about him. “Then we share that promise, you who would make the sacrifice for me just as I would make it for you; we both fight to live.” I slid Dreamer into her scabbard as Athlain dropped the Gift into its loop and we grasped forearms in a warrior’s oath- and perhaps a pledge of something more, something I did not want to think about just then. Together we said, “On my honor, I fight to live.”

“I love you, 'Thyna.” He smiled, and behind the face of the warrior, I saw again the person I had always known, the Athlain who was mine and no one else's. And just that once, I did not push the feelings aside, but embraced them. But only for a moment; we had a Daedra who needed a lesson about what happened when he invaded our world.

“I love you, Lainie,” I responded. “Now open the damned door!” Once again, I took Dreamer firmly in both hands, my stance relaxed but ready, preparing for Athlain to lift the handle and throw the door wide.

The portal swung open into a cavern of ice, not overly large but with great stalagmites and stalactites of ice obstructing the view in all directions. Athlain looked at me and we both stepped in the same direction. I don’t know why he moved as he did, but I felt drawn, like I was being pulled by an invisible thread. A scent hit my nose, not a lycanthrope, purely human, and I held up my fist for Athlain to stop. I pointed him to the right and gestured that I’d go left, pointing to my nose as I shook my head, trying to indicate silently that it wasn’t a beast, that it didn’t smell beastly. He nodded and moved without a sound. I still didn’t know how he could move that quietly in his giant tin cup, but I was very thankful that he could.

I came around the left perimeter of the cavern and although I could detect Athlain by his scent, I couldn’t see him. I worked my way toward the other smell as quickly and as quietly as I could. Athlain and I both stepped into a small open area simultaneously. A man in a tattered Legion uniform stood close to what was obviously a magical fire, as there was no wood anywhere to be found, but the magic appeared to be dwindling.

“Captain Carius?” Athlain’s voice was deep and carried to the man, who looked up in surprise.

“Agent Treyson; sure is nice to see a familiar face.” I had to admire his calm; I knew he had been missing from Fort Frostmoth for some time. He added, “I was beginning to wonder if this ice cave was going to be my tomb.”

“Not if we can help it, sera. This is Athynae Sarethi,” and he waved toward me. “ 'Thyna, this is the commander I’ve been searching for- Captain Carius.”

My eyes didn’t stop roaming even though I didn’t sense anything else. “Imagine that; Hircine stirring the pot. If he couldn’t lure us one way, he would’ve tried another, the giant, antler-headed pile of racer dung.” I stepped forward, closer to the captain, finally making an effort to recall my manners. “Nice to meet you, Captain. What can you tell us about these caves?” There was no time for small talk; we needed to get on with this.

“Not much, I’m afraid. When I was brought here I was told to stay in this area unless I wanted to die, and considering the beasts that brought me here, I decided I’d wait it out. They gave me enough provisions to get by and there is a trickle of water. Ice doesn't make the best bunk though, and the nightmares …. “ He trailed off before concluding, “One of the beasts told me if I’d just be patient, I would eventually be given a chance at freedom.”

“I don’t know whether Hircine the hound's hind end will free you or not, but you are welcome to join us.” He started to speak and I cut him off. “This is not the Legion and Athlain and I have seen our share of were beasts. We’ve also been informed by the Skaal shaman that what exists here is much worse than what we’ve encountered thus far, so sera, if you aren’t willing to take orders and do what we tell you while we attempt to get you out of here, then I suggest you wait here to see if Hircine will honor his promise.” My tone left no doubt whether this was debatable; my voice was hard and my expression firm. So much for manners.

Captain Carius looked back and forth between the two of us for a moment and like a puzzle piece falling into place he said, “You’re the Arch Mistress' daughter; I've heard of you.”

“Don’t believe everything you hear.” I was imagining all sorts of stories he could have heard.

“You’re the one that took care of that underhanded Hlaalu representative, Ules, several years back. But if that was you…” his words dropped off as he looked at me, calculating my age with his eyes.

Athlain spoke up “Yes Captain, that was her. She was fourteen at the time.”

It was actually Uncle Seth’s blade that ended the deceitful, cheating, corrupt son of a dead scrib, but only a select few knew the truth. And yes, Athlain knew the reality. But I was finding that sometimes, a reputation could be useful. And none of that mattered anyway.

“We need to get moving; I don’t like just standing here.”

As the words left my mouth the stink of were wafted up my nose. “Never mind, we’ve got incoming.” I faced the direction from which the scent was coming in a defensive position.

“Can you tell how many, 'Thyna?” Athlain hissed as he reached to push the captain behind him. The move was so natural, I don't think he even realized what he was doing- protecting someone else.

“Only one, I’m pretty sure. You go low and I’ll go high.”

He nodded.

“Three, two, ...” I let the whisper die as the beast rounded a giant icicle. Athlain took two running steps then went to his knees and slid on the icy floor with the Gift aimed at the beast's kneecap.

With Dreamer in a two-handed grip, I took the same two steps, then waited until Athlain connected. The monster's head came down as its leg collapsed and a diagonal swing of my blade severed its foul head. Once the threat was gone and we rounded the ice that was between us and where the feisty fiend had come from, the passage in front of us seemed to call ‘enter here’. I thought about all I had read in Sosine’s account as well as what Korst had told us.

“Captain Carius, dealing with Hircine’s lapdogs is going to take more than enchanted silver weapons. We need you for backup. If you can use these scrolls it would be a big help.” And I reached into my pack and pulled out several of the paralyze scrolls I had brought. “If all the information we’ve gathered is correct, we will need these. I have a feeling they aren't all going to line up one by one for our convenience.”

Captain Carius stared at me, looking unsure. I could feel my patience slipping. “You are a soldier and you must be a good one because they made you the commander of a fort. This is a different kind of fight, so I need, we all need you to do this, to use these scrolls to slow the beasts down.”

The Captain took the scrolls from me. “Miss Sarethi, I don’t have a problem following orders in a situation I am uncomfortable or unfamiliar with; it’s just been a while since I’ve used any scrolls. I don’t want to put us in more danger.”

I could feel the fingers of my right hand wanting to reach over and tap on the bracer on my left arm, but I couldn't take the chance of releasing my sword. “Just read the scroll as it is written, nothing special. Those scrolls were created by my mother and brother, and they are as close to perfection as could be. These are your weapons, Captain, and we are all three counting on you to keep some of them off of us until it’s their turn to die.” My words were clipped and I was fighting the urge to clench my jaw. I looked toward Athlain, trying to calm myself. This man was acting like Athlain did when he was ten and Mother showed him his first moves with a staff, uncertain, with the possibility of scared. We did not have time for scared. As the thought took shape, I heard the voice that had grown from that uncertain boy, the voice of a warrior,

“Sir- and I say this with all due respect- you are an officer of the Legion. That means you can read. It should also mean you can maintain discipline under pressure.” He was standing at attention as he addressed the captain, his eyes boring into him as if willing him to not only hear his words but to feel them. “Sir, we need you to do this so we can do what we have to do.” His body lost some of its rigidity and his tone changed slightly, “We are placing our faith in you- you need to have faith in us.” He bowed his head, “Respectfully.”

The captain squared his shoulders and returned the small head tilt. “I will not fail you Agent Treyson, Miss Sarethi. You wield the weapons and I’ll handle the magic.” Athlain’s words must have hit the mark, as the captain's expression changed and I finally saw the man who had been entrusted with a frontier fort.

“The two of you have obviously trained together,” he remarked as he stored all but one of the scrolls. That one he held he unrolled and looked over while Athlain replied.

“Yes sir, every day since I started walking, I think,” he held a momentary pause and then added, “except when I was injured, which happened with some frequency.” He gave a short laugh.

“Seems to have taught you how not to be injured, Agent.” Carius’ voice was light in response to Athlain's wry humor.

“Mostly,” I threw in, “except riekling blades.” And I shot Athlain a pointed look. He had the good grace to blush as he lowered his head.

“Captain, for now I think you need to be between us just in case there are attackers to the rear. These caves seem quite narrow.” I started into the passage and they followed.

We proceeded forward as I focused all of my new senses of smell and hearing. We turned a corner and the passageway opened up slightly. Once again the obnoxious smell of were hit me. I held up my fist to indicate “stop,” then backed the captain into a small alcove cut in the ice wall that hopefully Athlain and I could better protect. Even more, I hoped that the captain would be as good as his word with the scrolls. I kept my voice low, not sure how sound might travel in this maze. “We have at least three, maybe four coming. Captain, have a care where you direct those scrolls. If you hit either one of us, you’ll be dinner.”

Athlain checked the straps on his shield and muttered in the same low tone, “I’ll go right and you go left; that will leave the middle open for Captain Carius to cast.” He stood with his shield braced and his mace slightly raised. I looked at the shield again as the beasts entered the more open area in front of us.

I whistled to draw one to me and proceeded to show him my skill with blades. Fighting a beast two feet taller with claws on his hands and feet as well as a mouth full of sharp teeth was never easy, but I showed Hircine’s personal pestiferous misbegotten mutt that three feet of enchanted ebony and almost twenty years of training, were better. I was not looking forward to facing more of them, but knew that would be necessary before we faced the top dog. Because I knew there were several, I had to fight more defensively, waiting for an opening to present itself, one of Sosine's precepts reminding me,

A warrior who wishes to prevail does not attempt the most dramatic blow. Economy in a fight means saving your strength and your life. Allow your opponent to make the grand gesture, the mistake that will end the battle.

Even so, I was breathing hard when he took a swing at my head with his colossal metacarpus. That was what I needed, and I caught his arm just below the elbow with my katana, and while he gaped at his missing extremity, I divested him of his head.

I glance toward Athlain who was just ending his duel with a swing of the Gift to the chest of the offensive varmint. His face was void of expression, other than a determination to see this through, and the obvious strength he put into the blow was incredible, beautiful and brutal as well. I winced at the sight and then movement drew my attention to the third behemoth, who was beginning to recover from the paralyze scroll that the captain had used. Athlain’s shield flashed a reflection from the torches and the thought that had eluded me earlier became fully formed.

“Athlain! Brace your shield!” He never hesitated, just dropped to one knee and set his shield at an angle. I took a running leap and hit the shield with both feet and flipped over the last beast’s head. As I dropped and spun behind him, I severed him from to nape to waist.

As he fell away from my blade, I took a deep breath and detected nothing close. Only then did I release my hold on Dreamer with my right hand so I could brace myself on my knees, taking in great gasps of air trying to refill my depleted lungs of the oxygen they had lost during the fight. Then it registered, a cool feeling of air on the back of my arm and right thigh, along with an even less welcome liquid warmth. That piece of dirty, rotten racer dung had clawed me, and not only that; he’d pierced my armor. The back of my arm was just a covering of leather, but how had the reinforced piece on my thigh been breached? Now, as I thought back to my acrobatic maneuver, I remembered a clawed arm reaching upward. He had used my own momentum against me.

“So, how do you like my platter now, Miss I-Don't-Need-a-Shield?” His teasing voice drew my attention, but I didn’t rise from my stooped position.

“Athlain, that son of a b... beast scratched my leathers.” Meanwhile, I was trying to discern the severity of my wounds. I definitely wasn’t going to pull an Athlain. We couldn’t afford for me to be weakened by an injury, and based on what I could feel, my flesh had taken more than a scratch.

“ 'Thyna?’ I could hear the concern in his voice; I guessed I’d been bent over too long.

[Renee]

Finally! I was wondering what would happen next between these two. Athlain and Thyna. It's been awhile so I'm going to need to refresh. But I do remember they were involved in a quest which got them caught up with Hircine, somehow.

I have a feeling. They'll be fine. In fact, I'm going to make a guess right now, but I won't say it because .. Well because.

Together we said, “On my honor, I fight to live.”

Aw, that's touching.

Hmm, who is this captain? I know Daedra can fake their appearances....

Can you tell how many, 'Thyna?” Athlain hissed as he reached to push the captain behind him. The move was so natural, I don't think he even realized what he was doing- protecting someone else.

Tension builds. Yeah, this captain is clearly uncomfortable with magic. Now why is this? Is it because he's simply uncomfortable, or is it because he is not who he appears to be? He seems petrified. More than he should be. Why is he even in this cave?

but I showed Hircine’s personal pestiferous misbegotten mutt

I just learned a new word. Pestiferous.

They battle. Thyna is injured. What happened to the captain? Uh oh.

[SubRosa]

Dreamer is a great name for a weapon. Though I would think of using it for a sap, or other blunt weapon that knocks people unconscious. Of course, Dreamer is also a superhero on the Supergirl tv show (now my favorite).

“I love you, Lainie,” I responded. “Now open the damned door!”
Awesome! Cue the heroic music

I really liked 'Thyna's awareness of the world now being so heavily tied to her sense of smell. It is a subtle cue to her wolfy nature rising.

Captain Carius finally turned up! Cool to finally meet him after all these trials and tribulations.

She was fourteen at the time.
That really drives the point home, all puns intended.

Some nice use of tactics, and morale boosting, by our intrepid trio.

That was a beautiful - indeed superheroic - grand gesture of Athynae's to kill the last beastie. Also exactly what Sosine had warned her not to try, and now she is paying the price for it.

[treydog]

@Renee- Apologies for my long hiatus. Usual mumbled excuses about work and etc. But happy you are still reading. Many thanks.

Captain Carius is one of the... people... who got disappeared from Solstheim in the days prior to the culmination of the Wild Hunt. He is the commander of Fort Frostmoth, and Athlain's mission to the Skaal was originally intended to discover whether they were the ones behind the attack on the fort.

Oh yes, we have fun with obscure or infrequently used words. I think one of my favorites ever was "tatterdemalion," which I lifted from an old DC comic, "The Scarecrow."

@SubRosa- and yes, it would definitely be a good name for a cosh or (I had to see what was meant by this usage the first time I encountered it in Sherlock Holmes) a "life preserver."

Music- this definitely needs a soundtrack.... maybe performed by the Looney Toons Orchestra...?

And the acrobatic maneuver is just an "Athynae" sort of thing... she will explain her reasons, as she sees them soon.

@Everyone- but now, as advertised, a Pi Day post! Athlain finds himself on the other side of the surgeon's tools for once....

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Finding Captain Carius gave me a brief sense of satisfaction. Perhaps success in that task was an omen of success in others. It did not take long for my happiness to change to an Athynae-shaped headache, although I had to agree with her remarks. And she could not help being who she was, nor could she help the strain she was under and how it affected her. Serene's best efforts notwithstanding, 'Thyna would never be a “diplomat,” unless the goal of diplomacy was to cause endless squabbles with whomever she negotiated. Of course, she also did not have a Legion career to consider as I did. And as she “explained” the World According to Athynae to my commander, I saw my career collapsing in flames. Assuming we were not eaten or dismembered or turned into monsters, I imagined a court-martial in my future. I would be charged with insubordination, mutiny, insolence, and mopery and dopery. (I had no idea what that last was, it was a legal term my father used. Apparently, it was akin to “lurking with the intent to loiter” or something.)

On the other hand, if we did survive the test that was immediately in front of us, I might welcome a nice, quiet Legion investigation. The cell would probably be more comfortable than an ice cave, and I would be fed on a regular basis. Better still, even if the Legion did decide to execute me, they wouldn't eat me. Because that would just be wrong.

Once I had gotten the captain settled down, no doubt earning another charge of disrespectful dearth of due deference, I rather hoped we might encounter another of Hircine's “Hounds”. The one we had already met was larger and stronger than the previous beasts, but he had not been any smarter. So another scuffle might redirect Athynae's anger into a more useful channel- and prevent the need for me to intervene between her and my commander again. As it happened, the next fight started well, with the captain proving that he could read, and quite fluently. The narrow confines of the maze also gave us an advantage; so long as we held our ground, no more than two of the over-sized mongrels could come to grips with us. Which was just as well, because three came around the next bend in the ice wall.

One had to hang back, where it became a target for the disabling magic of Captain Carius' scroll. The one that approached me was wiser than his now headless and unlamented brother from the first battle. Rather than charging straight at me, he held back, trying to goad me into stepping forward, a move that would have left Athynae unprotected on that side. I refused the bait, holding my shield high, and drawing the Gift back slightly. As clearly as if I had spoken the words, my stance indicated, “Here I am. Come and get me- if you dare.” The sound of a blade cleaving flesh, followed by a howl of pain and rage told me that Dreamer had done her work, but I resisted the impulse to look. My opponent was unable to do the same, and I took full advantage of his momentary distraction. A sidearm blow of my mace caught him full in the center of his chest. Monster or not, just like a man, many of his important bits were in that vicinity, and the silvered spikes, driven by the weight of the Gift's ebony head, scrambled enough of them to send him to whatever fate awaited such creatures.

I glanced over to see Athynae moving back from yet another headless lycanthrope, somehow avoiding the spray of blood from his neck. That left one, which was now shaking off the paralysis. I held a quelling hand up to Captain Carius; we could not be profligate with the scrolls. And so far, 'Thyna and I had proved more than a match for any single werebeast. The corpses of his comrades created an obstacle for us as well as him, and I was willing to wait. Athynae, however, had an idea to overcome the problem more quickly. “Brace your shield,” she shouted, pointing at the floor. Whatever my thoughts might have been, the time to discuss tactics was not in the middle of a fight for our lives. So I dropped to one knee and angled my shield so that she could launch off of it. As soon as her booted feet hit the shield boss, I pushed up and away, adding momentum to her leap, watching her soar over the head of the befuddled beast. As she did so, she turned a flip in midair and came down with Dreamer in a diagonal slash that sliced the monster nearly in half.

She landed on one knee and put her right hand out to steady herself, much like an acrobat taking a bow following an impressive feat. I could not help but tease her a bit, asking, “So, how do you like my platter now, Miss I-Don't-Need-a-Shield?” She took just a moment too long to answer, and I knew something was wrong. 'Thyna never failed to respond to a quip, even if her response was simply a snort or a punch.

When she finally spoke, her voice was ragged, and not just with annoyance. “Athlain, that son of a b... beast scratched my leathers.” By the time her words registered, so had the sight of the red drops splashing on the icy ground beneath her.

I don't know how I had the presence of mind to ask a question instead of rushing to her side, but somehow, I did. “Are there any more?”

She looked up, her lips white with the effort to hold in the pain. But her nostrils flared and she gave a negative head shake . “None close by. It's safe- for now.”

A part of me knew she would have warned of any immediate danger without being asked. But I also knew she would have berated me if I hadn't. And speaking of berating... “What in the name of Azura was the idea with the flipping, flying tree elf move? He would have been just as dead if you had waited.”

She scowled, but wouldn't meet my eyes. “Not the time, Lainie. Just tell me how bad it is.” And she turned her chin to indicate her right arm and leg.

Ah. So, the truth of the matter was, I did not have a problem with my own blood. The gods knew I had seen enough of it over the years. Injuries to others, though, especially Athynae.... But at least they weren't abdominal wounds, probably just some unfortunate scratches to the muscles, and I could just slap a bandage on them and... I finally quit dithering and looked. And then, what I really wanted was to be somewhere else, to have someone besides me dealing with this. But then I took a deep breath as I remembered all the times the person bleeding in front of me, counting on me to fix it- how often she had patched me back together. Granted, she had usually added a great deal of acerbic commentary to the process, but she never shrank from the task. There was more to healing than mixing potions.

And speaking of potions, I pulled her case to me and ran a quick hand over the vials before selecting two. I gave them to her and said, “Drink those. Healing and cure disease. The second is just in case....” I did not need to say in case of what. She complied after only a brief look at the potions to ensure that I hadn't made a mistake- or tried to dose her with something other than what I had said. After she downed them and handed the empty vials back, she reminded me, “You still haven't answered my question. How bad is it? The longer you stall, the worse I'm going to think it is.”

“Um... your arm is just a bit scratched up. Nasty, but some ointment and a bandage will take care of that. Which is good, since you need both arms to wave that giant skewer around.” It was a sign of my own level of stress that I took the chance of making any remark about Dreamer that might be considered “disparaging.” But doing so bought me a little more time to steel myself to really look at her leg- and the wound that marred its wonderful muscles. And it was then that, in a way, I got part of my earlier wish- the part about being somewhere else- or possibly someone else.

As my eyes took in the damage, it felt as though I had moved to stand just behind and to the left of the confident person who examined the leg wound dispassionately. That fellow did not feel anything much for the person the leg belonged to; he wasn't uncaring, simply detached and professional. His dry, matter-of-fact voice spoke inside my head:

“Three parallel scratches; the fourth claw was stopped by the armor plate inside the leather. Ah! The force of the were creature's swipe, combined with the patient's leap, tore the pocket containing the plates and made a gap. Of the three incised wounds, only the center one is serious. It goes deeper into the muscle as it runs from the back of the knee to just below the buttock. Sutures will be necessary. The unknown person spoke from somewhere inside me, 'You will need to remove your leg armor. Can you manage on your own, or do you need help?' ”

“I can do it for myself. I want to see how that ba... beast managed to penetrate Bryn's plates anyway.”

While she removed the damaged armor, the stranger's hands sorted through the surgical kit with the assurance of long practice, emerging with a needle and thread. Those same hands were steady as they joined the two and then set about the task of cleaning the wound, while warning in a voice that sounded like my father's- “This will probably sting a bit.”

As I watched this... other's hands clean the scratches and apply healing mixtures, I was aware of a constant murmur, a voice rising and falling, but the words were as distant as the stars. The needle dipped and lifted, making fine stitches, the thread drawing the torn flesh back together. Next came bandages, a covering, but not too tight. “This sort of wound needs to breathe,” commented the detached voice. And as the last bit of bandage was tucked and secured, the hands doing the work became my own again. And they began to shake. I bolted up from my knees and felt my stomach do a slow, ominous roll. Athynae's voice broke through my queasiness, “If you are quite done using my leg for a pin-cushion, I would like to get up now. And I could use some help with my armor. It's not like I carry around a spare set, you know. Are you listening to me?”

My response was faint as I slumped against the wall and allowed myself to slide down to the floor. “Can I just rest a moment?” Without a word, Captain Carius passed me a damp cloth to clean the blood from my hands and then reached down to pat my shoulder before turning to resume his post, looking deeper into the maze. Moving as if I was a thousand years old, I gathered all the bloody remnants from the work someone had done using my hands and burned them. No one, not god or man or creature from Oblivion, would be able to use Athynae's own vital fluid against her.

[haute ecole rider]

Good job, Lainie!

I get that whole surgeon as other person because that's how I've had to deal with some nasty stuff in veterinary practice, including injuries to humans as well as puppies and kitties. Well done on the procedure!

I did have to chuckle at the clash between the good captain and Thyna. Julian just told me she is volunteering to "investigate" Lainie once again if necessary.

This post has been edited by haute ecole rider: Mar 14 2020, 05:44 PM

[SubRosa]

Athynae does not need a shield because Athlain has one for her to use!

Way to go for Athlain overcoming his squeamishness in tending wounds and just getting the job done. Knife wounds can be really unsettling.

[ghastley]

This is the first time I've noticed your alternation of viewpoints actually going back over an incident. The timeline before had always seemed progressive, with one character or the other clearly reviewing what just happened. It only confused me briefly, so no problem.

Why does “This will probably sting a bit.” always mean "Prepare for blinding pain!"?

[treydog]

@haute- One would think Athlain would be more... sanguine... about surgery, considering how much he has endured. Still he does manage to find the place in his mind where he can do the work- and where he can simply see it as such, rather than losing it completely. And I think the Julian investigation is just what he has in mind as an alternative to the Wild Hunt....

@SubRosa - And yes... he still does not completely grasp that he IS her "shield"- literally as well as metaphorically. And he just does what instinct and training... and other, more scary, feelings tell him to do.

@ghastley- I can't remember what the process was for deciding to have more... overlap... in this chapter. Or if there even was a decision... But- if so, it was probably because, as we come nearer to the end of things, we wanted to show events from both perspectives as a way to highlight the young warriors' differences- and also their growing understanding of how to work and survive together.

For today, because I hope people have more time for reading (stay SAFE everyone!), and to move things along, I will be posting a double- first from Athynae's perspective and then Athlain's. Goggles on, folks, things are going to be icy.

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Of course, before he could look at my wounds, Athlain had to give me a hard time about the maneuver that had ended the fight. The pain was setting in though, so I did not have the time or energy to argue with him. What he- what we both- needed to focus on was getting me fixed up and back into the fight. Energy. That had been the reason I had taken the chance I did; because we had faced so many of the heavy hounds in such rapid succession. Athlain seemed like a machine, as if he could go on forever, lugging that platter and his steel wood stove without pause. But the tension and the fights, one after another, had sapped my strength.

At least he finally stopped critiquing my style long enough to give me some potions, even though he still seemed to be reluctant to tell me how bad my injuries were. The healing potion brought a blessed wave of relief through me and I took a suspicious glance at the stopper to make sure he hadn't given me something “extra”. And the cure disease mixture was also welcome, even though I thought it might not be needed. After the healing in the cave, an incident that seemed so long ago, something in me had... changed. If, no, when we got back home, I would have to consult with Rah, and possibly even Mother. But that was all in the future. If we were going to have a future, Athlain was going to have to just deal with his problem with other people's blood.

So, of course, he looked at my arm first- exactly backwards from the medical principles we had both learned. The most serious injury first. Stabilize, sterilize, staunch. He seemed to be having trouble with what he claimed was a “scratch,” but he got it cleaned and wrapped. And then, when he got to the leg, there was a long pause, and when he finally spoke, his voice and even his touch was... different. There was no more hesitation, just confidence as he told me to remove my leg armor so he could get to work. Since I couldn't very well sew up the back of my own leg, I did as he asked. Besides, I wanted to see how that monster had managed to breach Bryn's enhancements.

With the armor gone, I rolled a little more to give Athlain the access he needed to stitch up the cut down the back of my thigh. Let’s just say lying on ice in thin breeches that I now only had one full leg of, with the other cut open and also cut away at the hip area, although left under the leg, made me think about how cold my right leg was going to be after I put my armor back on. Which I was going to do as soon as I repaired it. I pulled my tool kit from my pouch and began, best I could from my awkward position, to inspect and repair my beautiful leather armor that Bryn had so diligently and lovingly helped me to reinforce after the first few encounters with werewolves, werewolves that I now knew were just run of the mill over-sized albeit diseased dogs compared to what we had seen in these caves. Hircine’s hounds were huge, strong, and smelled even worse than the ones we had met previously.

“This will probably sting a bit.” I felt his fingers pinching the two sides of the wound together at the top of my thigh. I felt the first jolt of needle piercing flesh and winced. I wished I had brought some of Rahvin’s pain killer ointment, but that would have been a misuse of space in the small medicinal pouches Athlain and I carried. “Do you have to hit every nerve? Could you please try to just hit every other one?” Actually I wasn’t sure what hurt more, his fingers pinching the gap together or the needle piercing and the string pulling through.

‘Focus on the armor, distract yourself.’ The thought was a good one and so I proceeded to inspect closely. “Athlain?”

“Hmm.”

“I think the plates are too small for the pockets inside the leather.” I waited but he didn’t respond. I looked around at his face to an expression I had never seen before. He looked more like his father than himself, complete concentration, eyebrows drawn, eyes squinted as he drew the thread through again. “Where his claw caught there was just enough gap to tear the leather and then it was my momentum against his razor.” I kept chattering as I pulled my stitching awl and strips of leather from my kit. I positioned the plate and started punching to sew up the tear.

“I’ll show this to Bryn when we get out of here so we can rethink the design. It’s good, but either the plates need to be larger or the pockets need to be smaller so the plates fit tighter and won’t move even if the muscle is relaxed, like when I was hurtling over that stinking malignancy’s head.” I got nothing from the man whose fingers were doing a fine job of simultaneously fixing my mistake and torturing me, though I did hear a slight snort from the corner where Captain Carius had stationed himself. I glanced in his direction and I had to applaud his attentiveness to anything but what Athlain was doing. He watched both entrances to our cavern and he held a scroll unrolled and another still rolled but already untied.

“Thank you Captain.”

“Hm? Oh yes, certainly Miss Sarethi. Agent Treyson will have you right as rain in no time, I’m sure.”

He never even glanced in my direction; I don’t know if he was attempting to honor my modesty or if he felt the same way about blood as Athlain. Yes, I was aware of his skittishness about anyone’s blood but his own. He was doing an admirable job of rising above it.

I felt the strips of cloth as he wrapped the injury while I put the last stitches in my armor. I pulled my leg toward me and then straightened it to test the range of movement- and to gauge whether I would be able to stand the pain. It moved easily, too much so, in my opinion. “Why didn’t you wrap this tighter? I mean I know it needs to breathe, but not right now. Not until this is over. Right now it needs to be almost tight enough to stop circulation to support your lovely seam work.”

He still wasn’t with me. He did appear less strained, but was not on the planet with us; he was totally focused on finishing his work. I smiled inside at the look on his face, determined not to be affected by the sight of blood, my blood, until he was quite done with the process. He finished and used water to wash the blood off of his hands. He then wrapped everything that was bloody in a piece of oiled cloth and struck the flint to burn it. I watched as he slowly returned to himself.

And I could not help but respond to the more familiar Athlain in my usual way. “If you are quite done using my leg for a pin-cushion, I would like to get up now. And I could use some help with my armor. It's not like I carry around a spare set, you know. Are you listening to me? Did you hear anything I said?” I asked with one eyebrow quirked.

“Pardon? Um, you said something?” He walked slowly to the wall, turned, leaned against it and slid to the floor. “If you could just give me a moment to rest, I find that working as a healer is rather tiring.”

“Rather tiring?” Words that I would never have imagined coming out of his mouth. No one we knew talked like that. Now I was beginning to be concerned about him. “Lainie, are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“Oh nothing, nothing at all, just enough of your blood to supply a whole new body, a slice down your leg from your….” he let his words trail off as he closed his eyes and leaned his head back, taking deep slow breaths. “ 'Thyna, I have only seen you injured a few times and most of those were bruises, maybe a couple of broken bones, but never could I have even imagined an injury like that to you. You promised we fight to live; do you remember that? It wasn’t that long ago.”

“Of course I remember that and that’s what I was doing! I was getting tired and I certainly didn’t have it in me to go another full round with one of those abominable animal anomalies. I saw what I thought was a way to end the fight quickly and I took it, avoiding the wall of death between me and him. Fortunately the fortifications in my armor saved me from death, but unfortunately, they weren’t quite as breach proof as I thought. Now we know.”

Athlain’s eyes were closed as he continued to breathe deep and slow. “Yes Athynae, now we know.” He lowered his head and finally looked at me, fear, anger, frustration, love- it was all there as if the words were written in the air between us. “Please refrain from anymore acrobatic air assaults on the rabid hounds. I don’t think I could do what I just did again.”

I was caught between being angry at him for being upset with me and sympathizing with him for all the times I had sewn him up. “I will not do that again, but more because I would end up ripping out the stitches you just put in than anything else. The next time I pull a move like that it will be more successful.”

“Of course it will.”

* * * * *

The problem was, we could only rest for a short time- certainly not long enough for a serious wound to heal. But we all agreed it was better to take the fight to the Hounds than to let them swarm us under. Athynae's enhanced senses- which we depended on, even as we avoided talking about them- told us that many more of the creatures still roamed the maze. I could only hope that Hircine's miscalculation in giving her those abilities was a sign of fallibility and perhaps even vulnerability. In battle, winning often comes down to who makes the fewest mistakes. But that doesn't mean you can just stand still; failure to act decisively is the worst mistake of all.

We had already committed our own error, and it was only good fortune or divine providence that the Hound's razor claw had missed the artery in 'Thyna's leg. Even so, her movement was restricted, especially after she forced me to wrap the bandages tighter. “I need the support more than the air,” she said. “And besides, the ointment and cure disease potion should fight any chance of infection, at least for a while.” She seemed to turn her gaze inward, as if she could discern how her body was handling the injury, before adding, “And I think... infection may not be a problem anyway. Now let's get on with this.” She did that rapid, reflexive check of her weapons, a ritual that was as natural to her as breathing. Then, limping only a bit, she stepped into the unexplored passage, Dreamer leading the way, the blade's dark surface seeming to drink the light from the torches. Captain Carius looked from Athynae to me and shook his head with a slight smile, then checked the scrolls he carried and fell in behind her, leaving me as the rear guard.

Uncounted twists and turns, and some twenty lycanthropes later, the maze opened out into a central chamber, in which there was a large granite block, a closed gate... and three more Hounds barring our way. They were looking outward and maintaining their spacing, so a paralyze scroll would only catch one at best. That might be enough, if we could get the others to come to us. At least the breeze was blowing out from the gate, meaning they hadn't sensed us... yet. But we were all feeling the effects of the long series of fights and exhaustion was not far away for any of us. We could not afford a drawn out fight with fresh enemies- if they worked in concert, they would wear us down and disable or kill us one by one.

Desperate times..., I thought to myself before pointing to Carius and then to the beast at the far left. The captain nodded his understanding and I held up a hand to indicate he was to wait. Next, I tapped 'Thyna lightly on the arm and pointed to the remaining two, adding a throwing motion and then closing and opening my fist rapidly several times. In the signal system we had developed, that meant “throw everything.” She frowned at me and I could read her thoughts- “Who put you in charge?” Followed by, “And what are you up to, anyway?” I gave the only answer I could to her unspoken questions, touching my heart and then hers. She would either accept it and trust me, or not. I awaited her decision, knowing that more than the outcome of this fight depended on the answer.

Her expression cleared and she covered my hand with her own before nodding once. I nodded back and she released my hand, reaching both of hers to palm stars and darts. I looked from from her to Captain Carius and raised my hand for just a second before dropping it to the Gift in a chopping motion. The spell flew true, finding its mark, as did Athynae's missiles. The leftmost beast froze in mid step, before toppling to the ground. The others, punctured and pummeled by numerous projectiles, whirled and snapped, no doubt feeling as if the very air was attacking them. By themselves, the thrown weapons would not kill the Hounds, but the silver and the various poisons would burn and distract and slow them.

Before the barrage was even over, I stepped fully into the room and spoke, something I never did in combat. But I wanted to enrage them even more, to keep them from thinking or from recognizing our weakness. “You are all that is left of your pitiful pack. The others have gone howling and sniveling to their deaths. I will take your ears as trophies, just as I did the teeth of your brothers.” I rattled my half of the Totem of Claw and Fang; they could not tell at that distance just what sort of teeth I was shaking at them. Athynae stepped up on my right and added, “The smoke from your burning corpses will be a beacon for all of Tamriel, a sign that your master has failed.” They charged.

I had gotten what I wanted; I only hoped we could survive it. With the prospect of imminent howling fanged death rapidly approaching, my fatigue fell away. I knew that was only temporary, so I matched my advance to that of the one on the left, closing the distance. 'Thyna circled wider to the right, moving well on her injured leg. The Hounds were still having problems with their many small cuts and punctures, despite their unnatural resistances. The silver stars were especially painful to them, continuing to burn their way into their hides. And the Hounds could not pull them out, as they lacked thumbs in their were form.

I added to my attacker's misery by bashing him hard in the face with my shield, causing his over-sized teeth to clack together. I hoped he had bitten his tongue, and wondered if he did, whether that appendage would grow fur when the moon was full. I followed my whimsical thought with a swing of the Gift that ruined his left... elbow and caved in some ribs. Then I swung the edge of my shield up into his already abused muzzle and pounded a second blow into his left side. Without his now useless arm to deflect the impact, it was fatal. Still, I made sure by crashing one more strike onto his head as he fell.

A glance to my left showed Captain Carius rising from beside the paralyzed lycanthrope, his silver dagger dripping blood. That left 'Thyna. I turned my attention to her part of the fight and my heart stopped. She was down on her left knee, letting it support most of her weight. But then I saw that her position was by design, rather than another injury. By making herself smaller, she protected her wounded leg and also negated the Hound's height advantage, forcing him to bend in order to reach her. And that made his forelimbs vulnerable to Dreamer's razor edge. In fact, when I looked to him, his right arm was already severed at the elbow and a flick of the katana removed his left paw, as well. When he made to retreat, Athynae swung a hard horizontal blow from left to right and chopped both his legs out from under him. As he dropped, she stood gracefully and delivered the death blow, removing his head cleanly, saying, “A foretaste of what your master can expect.”

She wiped her blade on his fur and then went about the task of retrieving her projectiles. I turned to my former opponent and engaged in the same gruesome task. The thought passed through my mind that it had been a lot cleaner when we just pulled them out of targets, or on one memorable occasion, the walls of a conference chamber Under Skar. After making certain that the beasts would stay dead, we looked around uncertainly. I idly tested the gate, but it was locked. I asked Athynae, “You didn't come across a key, did you? I mean, I know they don't exactly have pockets, but...”

My bewilderment was interrupted by Captain Carius, who cleared his throat and pulled a glowing key from inside his breastplate. “I was told- if you got this far- that I was to give you this, and my part would be done. I am also to tell you that you may turn back at this time, and not participate further. It has been an honor and a privilege- I hope to see you both at Fort Frostmoth.” And with that, he handed me the key, turned and seemed to step through a rent in the air.

I blinked a couple of times and then asked Athynae, “Are there any more... beasts?”

She paused to test the air and then said, “None. We are safe for the moment.”

“That's good; it means I can take a look at that leg.”

“What leg?”

“Your leg! The one with the great bloody gash down the back? 'What leg?' Really?”

She folded her arms and protested, “You just want to get my armor off.” When she realized what she had said, her face darkened and she choked, “That didn't come out like I meant it to.” Then she returned to form, saying, “And anyway, my leg is fine and....” She stopped and her face got a peculiar look, then she flexed the wounded leg tentatively, followed by a more vigorous movement. “That's strange. It actually does feel fine; a little stiff, but no more than after a long sparring session.”

I nodded, even though I did not actually understand, and said, “So... you see to your wounds... and I will... ah, prepare our bedding and some food while you do that.” Her remark about me just “wanting to get her out of her armor” was causing me some difficulties and I could feel my ears burning.

[SubRosa]

I would want to get her armor off too...

Picking up the pieces and then pushing on to what will hopefully be the final showdown. I certainly hope someone gets laid once it is done... Yes, I am looking at you 'Thyna and 'Lain...

[Renee]

you are so good at subtle humor, dog. I find myself laughing quite a lot at these tales.

On the other hand, if we did survive the test that was immediately in front of us, I might welcome a nice, quiet Legion investigation. The cell would probably be more comfortable than an ice cave, and I would be fed on a regular basis

Ah jeez! You could probably do standup comedy if you haven't got stage fright!

Good lord, she just did a flip in mid-air. You've got a Xena clone in your story. Well it's good he was able to detach himself and let that other bystander sew his partner up.

She frowned at me and I could read her thoughts- “Who put you in charge?” Followed by, “And what are you up to, anyway?” I gave the only answer I could to her unspoken questions, touching my heart and then hers.

Ha ha!

That's weird. The Captain just disappears after delivering that key. I love all the awkwardness between Thyna and Athlain.

[treydog]

@SubRosa- Yeah, Athynae's sexuality is another one of those aspects of herself she does not understand. Perhaps, although we never intended such consciously, she is somewhere on the spectrum.... And too, we have kind of maintained an unspoken concept of the long-lived (elves) that, because of their increased life-span, they can be extremely nonchalant about reproduction- as in, "there will be time for that later."

@Renee- The humor is important to us- I need it in my life, as well as my writing, especially to relieve fraught situations. And I am pleased that the humor has the desired effect- making people laugh is a goal I try to achieve, preferably in a surprising way. Athynae's acrobatic move made perfect sense to her in the moment, as she tried to explain. I have a feeling it will be one of the unresolved arguments between the duo as to whether it was really a good idea. Captain Carius is given a choice (and also gives the player character a choice) to escape the maze (and the Bloodmoon main quest). We modified it just slightly to give him more of a role in providing the literal key to the next stage.

And now for a moment of calm- at least in the physical realm- before we meet someone else caught up in these events.

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I repeated the words in my head to analyze what I’d meant instead of what had escaped from my undisciplined mouth. ‘You just want to get my armor off’ . My brain repeated it again and I felt my face heat... again. That sort of mental loop was a habit I had tried for years to break. Words, once spoken, were like an arrow released from the string; they flew to their mark and you could not draw them back. Of course, my arrows always hit as I intended, but my words.... I shook my head, not unlike Mother when one of us did something wrong and yet still amusing.

I dislodged the introspection and removed my leg armor to check the wound, as best I could, which mostly meant by touch. My fingers probed and encountered... stitches. But where was the “great bloody gash” Athlain had just mentioned? It was all but gone.

“Athlain, I think I need you to remove these stitches before they become permanent.”

“Don’t be ridiculous; it’s only been a few hours.” He continued to prepare our bedrolls close together. Unfortunately it was necessary to share body heat in the ice caves. Not that he wasn't pleasantly warm, but.... just never mind!

“No, seriously; if I could do it myself, I would.” And I put my hands on my hips. I’m sure I made quite the picture standing there in an ice cave with one leg fully covered and the other bare to the top of my thigh.

Athlain looked up, turned twenty-seven different shades of red and dropped his head. “Come over here and lie down on the pallet.” He cleared his throat twice, then squeaked, “It won’t be quite as uncomfortable as the ice floor.”

I followed his directions and laid down on the fur and blanket pallet he’d made. I felt his fingers as they checked the injury that didn't seem to be there anymore. “ 'Thyna, it almost looks like the stitches are there for no reason.” The awe in his voice mirrored my own feelings.

“I don’t have any answers to why, but I would appreciate you removing them before they set up residence and plant a garden.” I knew I sounded defensive, but try lying in that position with someone's hands running up and down your leg and see how composed you can be.

He snickered as he pulled a small, razor sharp knife and tweezers out of the medical supply pouch. I was prepared for stinging as he cut and pulled the thread, but it wasn’t anything more than a slight pull as the stitching slid free. Once he was done, I practically leapt to my leathers, my objective two fold, warmth and modesty.

“ 'Thyna, how is that possible?” He sounded like he still didn’t believe what he’d seen.

“I looked at the vials of potions you gave me; they both held my mark, so it wasn’t the potions. If it had been one of Mother’s or Rahvin’s I could easily attribute it to that and wouldn’t even be shocked. But after that beast rent my armor and gashed my leg, besides the pain of the injury, I felt nothing. Before- in the cave, after that misbegotten mongrel attacked me, I could feel the disease. So I should have felt the same, because this wound was a lot worse.”

“Maybe the cure I gave you made you immune.” I could see a hopefulness in his eyes, a wish that something had gone right since I’d been rendered night blind because one of the witches or one of the Daedric delinquents had altered the spell to create the potion that cured my lycanthropy. That wasn’t his fault, though he felt it was. He had practically moved a mountain to save an innocent girl, even while he was trying to save me.

“Probably, along with Azura’s…,” I paused and thought and said, “Azura’s intervention.” I smiled. “That’s it Lainie; she’s doing what she can to help us.”

He nodded, though the expression on his face held doubt. “If you say so. I mean, obviously someone did something for a gash that ran from your, ah, your,” his face was distorted and red again. He pointed to the lower part of his backside, “Here to the back of your knee and a finger joint deep or more to heal you in a few hours.”

“Azura is the only one who could or would do that. My healing potions are pretty good, but they aren’t that good. I know Rah hasn’t discovered anything that would make a healing potion that much better. Not from lack of trying, mind you.”

“That’s as good an answer as any, I suppose. Warm jerky broth?” He’d heated the water with a spell and softened the jerky in a cup of water with extra seasoning. It would stem the hunger, though the taste was tolerable at best. The nice part was that the heated cup warmed my hands through my gloves.

“Thank you.” I tried to encompass every thank you I might have missed over the past, I wished I could say few hours, but in truth I was trying to cover an entire lifetime.

“You’re welcome.” The slight hitch in his voice meant he’d heard the depth of my appreciation even if he couldn’t fathom how much it was for.

We ate and drank our dinner and were happy to have something to at least mitigate our hunger. Athlain had tucked out pallets under an overhang that gave an unimpeded view of both the entrance to the cavern as well as the barred gate to the next maze of magical biting beasts. The layer of fur under the pallets blocked some of the cold and we positioned ourselves close together, but still allowing each of us a good line of sight. When Captain Carius had told us that we could go with him, quit this insane game, a part of me had been tempted to tell Athlain to flee, to go with his commander; finish his Legion career and live a full life. But I hadn't, because I finally understood something.

For him to be the person, the warrior we had both wished for him to be, I had to believe. Because if I believed, so would he. At last, I saw where so much of my own strength and certainty had originated, not from my belief in myself, but from Athlain's unswerving trust and confidence in me.

So when it came time to sleep and he said, “You first,” using his Legion Officer voice, rather than argue, I just nodded and closed my eyes. I was asleep I think before my eyes were fully shut; I was beyond exhausted.

I woke with a thumping in my ear and opened my eyes only to realize I’d rolled over and my head was on Athlain’s chest. I slowly raised my head and looked at his face. The strained smile and slightly raised eyebrows, along with the taut muscles in his neck, gave me a reason to extricate myself and mumble a quiet, “I’m sorry,” as I re-positioned myself to take watch so he could sleep.

“It’s okay, 'Thyna. Your sleep was peaceful and I was warm, so nothing to be sorry for.” His voice wasn’t as strained as his expression had been only a moment before.

‘Well, it certainly wasn’t intentional.” I hadn’t meant to sound so harsh. “Get some rest. We need to get on with this.” Softer at least, but still needed work. “Sleep Lainie; it’s my turn to guard you.” That was as good as it was going to get.

“Thanks,” he murmured as he slid down under the blanket. I eased myself up to lean against the wall with Athlain’s back against my legs. I pulled out the darts and stars that I had used and started cleaning and sharpening them. The darts I tipped with poison before tucking them safely back into their tiny sheaths. The sheaths I could wear in my belt, tuck in a pocket or hide in my hair. A flick of the thumb that had become second nature freed them from the hardened leather sleeves. Done with that, I cleaned and checked Dreamer for nicks. Of course, there were none; there never were, but it was a habit I didn’t want to break.

Soft snores were the music of my solitude, and I caught myself absently playing with Athlain’s hair. It was longer than I had ever seen it and hung in loose curls down to his shoulders. I watched as the waves floated against my hands, light brown, darker brown and golden threads of silky softness passing through my fingers like water. I inhaled a deep breath of essence of Athlain, steel, leather, lavender and sweat. It was a comfort, sitting in an ice cave not knowing what was next, what we would encounter once we opened the gate that seemed to glare at me from across the grotto. Right now, though- this minute- I was encased in a moment of peace and calm. I needed the waking calm as much or more than the regeneration sleep had offered.

A thought slammed home as I replayed the battles Athlain and I had fought since I came to this ghastly island. Athlain, with all of his childhood struggles to learn how to fight with weapons or without, had surpassed me as a warrior. I had been the one practically born with bow and sword in my hands and yet here we were. He had overcome physical challenges, parental challenges, his own inner demons, risen above them all, to use the strength of his body in concert with his steel trap of a mind.

“What’s wrong?” Athlain jumped up, startling me. “ 'Thyna?”

“What?” I was confused by his words. Maybe he’d been dreaming.

“Why are you crying? What is it?”

I laughed. I hadn’t realized I was crying, but I reached and touched my face and it was almost as wet as if I’d splashed it with water. “It’s nothing. I’m sorry if I woke you. You were sleeping so tranquilly.”

“You didn’t wake me; it was time to get up. I’ve slept enough,” he assured me and then, stern as Uncle Trey, asked again, “Why are you crying?” And there was fear in his eyes.

“Honestly?”

“Yes!” he insisted.

“I was thinking about you, about how proud I am of you and even more proud that I can call you friend. A boy who couldn’t wield a sword, who fought everything and everyone, including his parents, his fear of disappointment in himself or of disappointing anyone else for that matter. A boy who grew into a man, an officer of the Legion, and has become the greatest warrior of our time.”

I rose and started rolling up the bedding and tying it as he moved to do the same with his pallet. I glanced at his face while he worked; the expression was one I’d not seen before, so it was hard to decide exactly what he was thinking. I took a sip of water from my flask and let him finish tying everything. “Are you okay?” I smiled at him and poked his shoulder.

“Stunned I guess is the word,” was all he said for long moments as we gathered and donned our gear. “I think you’re wrong, but thank you for the compliment.” His face was serious. “If you’d faced all that I have in the months that I’ve been here,” his voice dropped for a moment. “No, not even that. I believe as I have always believed, that the honor is yours.”

I chose to allow the conversation to end. As long as he felt I was best and I felt he was best, it meant together we were a force beyond compare. Whether that had been the true objective from the beginning, and if so who was behind it, could be pondered later; right now we had a Daedric prince to hunt down and stop. This madness had gone on quite long enough.

“Forward then?” I asked with a smile.

“Forward,” and he slid the key into the gate that led to the next maze of magical monsters.

We peered into the frigorific cavern. I was sensing something beastly, but it wasn’t quite the same pungent odor as the were beasts we had faced in the ice caves, so I said nothing, choosing to see exactly what waited in the frozen darkness. Athlain stepped through first, and I balked, but then shook my head at myself. My realization meant that I had to concede leadership and accept this as the partnership it was and in reality had always been. Athlain was in warrior mode, so I stepped in just behind and to the left of him.

We both saw someone ahead with his back to us, apparently studying the choice of tunnels. The man, obviously Skaal, turned and as he did, the odd sort of were scent wafted across my senses again and Athlain, who had been warrior tense, eased his stance somewhat. I remained alert, the scent making me wary but curious. I watched as Athlain stepped forward and spoke.

“Tharsten Heartfang, I greet you.” He gave a slight dip of his head. So this was the Skaal Chieftain that had disappeared. I also came to the conclusion that he, Tharsten, was one of the other contenders that Hircine had referenced when he introduced himself to us and explained the rules of the game. I wasn’t quite ready to evaluate precisely what that meant for Athlain and me.

The Skaal Chieftain glared at Athlain and growled. “You? What are you doing here, Legion pup?” I gripped Dreamer’s hilt a little tighter and shuffled a small step only to watch as his eyes seemed to lose focus or perhaps see beyond, then widen a fraction. “You...carry the Totem? How is that possible? You are not Skaal.” Then he turned those wild eyes toward me and I had to suppress a shiver. “And you are marked by the Spirit Bear.” He dropped to one knee, even though it was clear the gesture warred with his pride. “Though neither of you are Skaal, you carry the future of my people in your hands and in your hearts. If you will allow it, I will fight by your side.” He touched his fist to his chest and offered his forearm to Athlain for a warrior’s clasp. Athlain grasped the offered forearm and helped the shaggy Skaal to his feet, not stepping back, though the chieftain towered over him.

“We would be honored to have you fight with us.” The many sides of Athlain came to the fore again. He had always possessed an ability to match his demeanor to whatever group or individual he encountered. I’d seen my share of his ‘Legion persona’, but only a small hint of the Skaal version until now. He wore the tribal mantle as well as he wore his Legion uniform or the steel plated armor beneath it.

I was still battling the beast part of the scent that was cascading off of Tharsten but decided, for now anyway, I would allow the honesty in his eyes to hold sway. I would not let my guard down, but we would proceed and I hoped that he would be true to his word and not turn on us.

“There are three tunnels; the one to the far right is a dead end. The other two I haven’t searched yet.” Tharsten gestured to the tunnels as he spoke.

I stepped forward to each opening. “The left tunnel is our path; the scent is undeniable.” And I shot a pointed look at Tharsten. The message registered in his eyes and he gave me an almost indiscernible nod. Athlain appeared unaware of the communication between us as he stepped forward.

“Shall we?” And he waved toward the frigid opening.

“Tharsten Heartfang.” They both looked at me as I put command into the voice. “Please lead the way.”

Athlain sent me a questioning look before Tharsten replied. “Aye, Keeper of the Spirit Bear, t’would be an honor to guide your way.” And he stepped into the icy tunnel.

I stepped to Athlain’s side and whispered. “Do not let your guard down.” And I followed the Chieftain onto the icy path as Athlain took the rear guard position. The twists and turns were narrow at points, some places so tight it was difficult for the Skaal Chieftain and Athlain to squeeze through. As we scuttled and shuffled through, a thought stood out starkly against the rest. How could a man dressed in animal skins and furs make so much noise when another dressed in metal plating from head to toe made little to none? And then the time for idle thoughts was gone, for the overwhelming scent, parfum d’were, was suddenly as thick as smoke.

“Chieftain!” I hissed

He turned, touched his own nose and nodded, “Aye Keeper, I smell ‘em” His voice carried pride. That was when I knew he would fight with and and for us. I wasn't sure how I knew, but I was as certain of that as I was of Athlain. The beasts were ahead of us and stood, ranged in a semi-circle, facing our direction. There were at least half a dozen and I feared that this was the end. With Captain Carius' help and Athlain's considerable skill- along with my own- we had barely survived three of the monsters. With twice that many confronting us, we would be harried and hemmed and at last brought down like prey. No. Not without a fight. We might die here, but we would die on our feet. I tightened my grip on Dreamer and made ready to send a thought to Athlain, when Tharsten spoke from his place at the fore, “Tell our people I fought for them and for you, Keeper of the Spirit Bear and Legion Friend of the Skaal.” And with that, he threw himself into their midst as he transformed into the largest, most fearsome werewolf I had ever seen or could have imagined.

Athlain and I engaged in the battle from the periphery, as well as we could. It was a roiling, snarling tangle of teeth and claws, and I shot silver tipped arrows and hurled stars and darts as fast as I could palm them, knowing getting into the middle of that fray would be a death sentence. Athlain ranged the perimeter, watchful for other enemies, and also landing blows of the Gift where he could. But the Chieftain, larger than the attacking pack, threw the beasts down like toys until only two stood to face him while another lay writhing on the floor with an arrow protruding from one shoulder and Athlain’s black dagger buried to the hilt in his back. Tharsten, bleeding from more wounds than I could count, went to his knees and I dropped my bow, pulled Dreamer free and dove in, taking the head of the one on the floor as it tried to grab my ankle. Athlain slugged one of the standing beasts in the side of the head and I flashed to Rahvin telling the story of a tomb and a skeleton and Athlain using his staff to send the skull across the dungeon. Tharsten, rose with a roar, ripped an arm from the last and then collapsed just as Athlain smashed it in the snout with his dinner plate before serving the head a taste of silver and ebony tenderizer.

Tharsten's form returned, his body mutilated from the beasts he’d destroyed. How he could still live with those horrible injuries I could not fathom, but he did. He locked eyes with me as he gasped, “I took his ring, thinking it would give me an advantage, a way to keep my people safe. A choice I now regret. I believe you understand, Keeper.” I nodded. I did understand, but I didn’t know how he knew.

“I hope that your stories will say I fought with honor for my people.” His voice was growing weak and raspy. “The two of you are the Chosen; only you can send him back. Defeat the beast, for the survival of the Skaal depends on it, as does yours. Blessings, Legion Friend and Keeper. I go to Sovngarde,” he whispered and he was gone.

I reached to close his eyes with the hand marked by the Spirit Bear and as I touched his face, a small glowing orb floated from it, first to my face then to Athlain’s, before it shimmered into the ice above our heads.

[haute ecole rider]

Wow. So Tharsten has transformed? Boy, am I glad he’s on our side!

To back up a little bit, an adorable interlude between Thyna and Lainie. That little bit of “You’re the best - No you’re the best” reminded me of the Kdrama trope “I love you more - no I love you more - no, I love you most!”

And we continue forward,

[SubRosa]

It looks like Athynae inherited some regeneration for her troubles, along with that heightened sense of smell. I guess that might be a fair trade off for losing her night vision.

Athynae's musings about Athlain really catch us up with who he was when all this started, and who he is now. I think they call that character development, or something like that...

I admit that I had to look up what frigorific means.

That was touch and go with Tharsten for a few moments there. He certainly proved himself at the end. As Haute noted, good thing he is on their side!




nits:
‘You just want to get my armor off’ .
You have a space there between 'Thynas off' and Laine's period.

“ 'Thyna, how is that possible?”
Same here

[treydog]

@haute- In the game world (and here also, though it is not revealed), Tharsten is the keeper of Hircine's Ring. I included what I decided might be his justification for doing so, along with reminding myself that not everyone feels the same way about lycanthropy as the A and A team. And yes, they can't help being sweetly funny- even if they would both reject the notion....

@SubRosa- As will be seen eventually, there are other forces at play beyond Hircine and Beothiah and whoever else has decided to take an interest. That's the trouble with the gods- when they get bored, the result tends to be cataclysmic for the mortals... And the biggest thing I wanted from the beginning of this long journey was for Athlain to... grow. And yes- my co-author contributed "frigorific"- I had to look it up, as well. Tharsten- like all the other "non-player characters," I wanted to give him more dimension. In the actual game, the player has to fight him- either at the first encounter, or when he "betrays" their alliance a little later. I decided to give him a better death, as well as better reasons for his existence than just being "mini-boss number 58." Punctuation repuncted.

@Everyone- A somewhat longer post this time, but one I hope you will like. Athlain philosophizes, Athynae cooks, and somehow, they both survive.

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

Tharsten's death forced me to think about courage in a way I never had before. It was something I had given a great deal of thought as I strove to become a warrior- a quality I admired and hoped that I possessed. The truth was, I had not much liked the Skaal chieftain. He had distrusted me, forced me to take responsibility for judgment and death over a man I did not know, tested and insulted me- and then, he had sacrificed himself to save us and his people. There could be no doubting his courage, even if he was anything but a “nice man.” His choices were not the ones I would have made, but I was not the leader of a tribe of hunters who lived with the very real chance of death every single day. And Korst had told us that the Skaal had a different view of Hircine than we did. Despite the notions of “knightly virtues” I had still held onto after all my time on this ice-bound island, I was finding reality much more complicated.

A person did not have to be “kind” or “courteous” to be brave. In fact, they did not even have to be “good.” Evil men could be just as brave as anyone else, because morality had little to do with strength of will or the ability to stand fast in the face of danger. And I remembered some of the less “romantic” stories of heroes, including the fact that a number of them had unsavory habits and could be downright rude and abrasive. Of course, if I chose to model my social behavior after them, my mother would clout me across the side of the head, even if she had to stand on a chair to do it.

We could not give Tharsten the sort of funeral he had earned, but we still made a pyre for him, with the heads of his defeated enemies stacked below his feet. As we prepared his corpse, making sure to place his sword in his hands, we found the key to the next gate hung on a strip of leather around his neck. And then we doused all the bodies with oil and lit the fire. We moved away from the awful smoke and did not speak as the flames did their work. When the pyre had burned down, we scattered the charred bones of the lycanthropes, but there was nothing of Tharsten to be found, not even the sword. I could only conclude that his dying words were true- he had gone to Sovngarde.

So now we had the key to the final gate. I had a feeling that more had passed from Tharsten to Athynae than his acknowledgment of her connection to the Spirit Bear, but if so, she was not ready to talk about it. There was no point asking; she would work out her feelings and thoughts and tell me when she had done so. Therefore, I did some thinking of my own, only out loud.

“Based on what we have seen, and what we know from Sosine, Captain Carius, and Korst- these have been the “preliminary matches,” designed to choose a champion.” I put up a hand to mark off on my fingers, “We also know that the Hounds took us, Captain Carius, and Tharsten. I was in the Skaal village for that last, but did not realize what had happened. And remember, Dulk- or else his evil brother- said that 'wolf mens' came for Karstaag, too.”

Athynae nodded her agreement and followed my reasoning, “So you think the giant is on the other side of this next gate.” She ran her hands over her weapons, a subconscious aid to the thought process. “And if he is, he is the last one left before the horrible horned horror himself.”

“I think so, yes.”

“And if that's so, he is probably going to be the hardest opponent we will face- unless you think we can form an alliance with him?” Her tone held more wishful thinking than belief. The constant fighting, the struggle to keep both of us alive and relatively uninjured, the unexpected failure of her tactics and her armor enhancements- all of it had made her weary. She had always wanted to be a warrior, but I think her vision of what that meant had been like mine- unrealistic. We had competed in tournaments, with rules and time limits, and most of all, with everyone able to go home at the end of the day.

But this- this unrelenting, grinding, life or death at every turn- bloodbath.... I think both of us had somehow thought that the “Hunter's Game” would be like a version of those far-off tournaments. We (or one of us) would face and defeat Hircine, and then we would go home and the world would be as it had been. And then I looked at the... woman, which I was rather startled to realize Athynae had become while I wasn't paying attention.... I looked at her and understood that some aspects of our lives would never be as they were before. Solstheim and all that it represented had become an impassable mountain range between our childhood and whatever would come after. I decided not to go too far down that path right then. It confused me and we needed to survive this next encounter and the one after it. Letting myself get tangled up in thoughts of some distant, hazy future might well jeopardize my having any future at all.

Meanwhile, 'Thyna had asked a question, and had waited with uncharacteristic patience while my mind decided to go on a side excursion. “Um. Karstaag. Alliance. Yes, right. Probably not. I wish I had asked Korst more about him, but when he wasn't in the castle, I forgot.”

She raised an eyebrow and tipped her head to look at me a bit sideways with a small smile as she corrected, “When you tried to choke Korst, you mean.” She shook her head. “Lainie, I know you believe you have to think of everything, plan for every possibility- but it doesn't work like that.” She held up her hands to indicate the ice maze in which we stood. “The best you can do is rely on your training, your instincts, your skill, and-,” she put her hand on my heart, a gesture that gave me more comfort than I think she knew, “on your best friend. And that being so, I like our chances against this Karstaag, whatever he is. Probably just an extra large, extra grouchy grahl. And we handled a whole herd, or huddle, or muddle- of those in the Feast Hall. If we don't know what he is, he doesn't know anything about us, either.”

“So,” she raised her hand to pat my cheek, “you will make sure our enchantments are at full charge, while I put the potions we might need within easy reach. And we will both check our weapons and armor, then eat something, and get some rest.” She gave a last whimsical smile. “Who knows? Maybe Karstaag will get bored and wander off.”

I wasn't quite sure what to do with this new version of Athynae. Ever since her tearful, joyful statement that she believed I was the better warrior, she had seemed... lighter somehow. She was no less deadly or effective, as our most recent encounter with the Hounds had shown, but now there was a calm that tempered her usual certainty. The truth struck me like a thunderbolt- her demeanor resembled that of Seth. Perfectly centered, perfectly calm, with unfathomable violence lurking beneath the placid surface. For the moment, I kept that thought to myself.

Meanwhile, we did as she had suggested, completing all the preparations we could. The familiar routine of armor maintenance and setting up a camp, even the less-than-appetizing broth, was reassuring. I looked at my bowl somewhat cross-eyed and mused, “You know, I wish your brother had made some of his 'guar cubes' for people before he moved on to something else.”

Athynae raised her eyebrow, the left one, a sign that I would continue at my peril.

Oblivious, I added, “Not that this,” I swirled the spoon doubtfully, “is not fine... um... soup, gruel, reconstituted brown water?” I set it aside with a theatrical shudder.

'Thyna made as if to dump her bowl over my head, and I quickly grabbed back my own and noted, “But, at least it's warm.”

“Yes. And since you saw fit to insult my cooking, I see no reason to share dessert with you.”

That was a magic word, and it got my attention, but I had to be careful. 'Thyna, for all her many talents, was a truly atrocious cook. She seemed to think recipes were “suggestions,” and her usual impatience caused her to think hotter is better, because it cooks things faster. There had been a number of small fires, general billows of smoke, and finally, the famous (or infamous) “Cookie Incident”- which had caused her to be banned from touching the oven. She was almost more dangerous in the kitchen than on the battlefield, and her well-known “morning attitude” was only one of the reasons her tea was delivered to her door. While I had been reminiscing, she had been delving into her pack, at last emerging with a small, circular tin.

“I've been saving these,” she announced, flourishing the container, but carefully keeping it out of my reach. Then she brought it protectively to her chest and gave me a superior smile. “But clearly, some of us,” she paused to work the wax seal around the lid with a small knife, “are not interested.”

She removed the lid to reveal a perfectly-formed bit of Aetherius in the shape of a pastry. It was a sweet roll, the ones whose creation was a closely-held secret of the Sarethi's cook. Wealthy merchants from the mainland had offered vast sums for the recipe, and had been rebuffed. It looked as if it had just come from the oven. Athynae lifted it out as carefully as a mother picking up a new-born and inhaled its wonderful essence. I could see that its twin still rested in the tin.

“As I was saying, since you aren't interested,” she set the first roll behind her and set about closing the lid on the remaining wonderful goodness within, “that just means more for me. It's true that Rahbrat never did invent any travel rations for people. But,” she gestured with the tin, “he did invent a way to store food indefinitely without it losing its flavor or nutritional value.” With that, she picked up her treat and bit into it, a beatific smile lighting her face.

“Ah. Well. You see... That is...” My eyes were fixed on the tin and I was having trouble forming a coherent thought, let alone a sentence. I could practically taste the cinnamon and the berries and.... It had been months since I had enjoyed that ambrosial sweetness. Athynae paused her chewing, watching to see what I would do. Her expression reminded me of her brother studying a chemical reaction. A direct assault would fail, and the thought of it made me distinctly uncomfortable for some reason. Pretending indifference would not work either- she knew exactly how I felt about the treat that was right there in that box. And besides, she would call my bluff if I tried to say I did not care. Perhaps I could play on her sense of obligation?

“So, you know, I did sew up your leg not too long ago.”

She shook her head. “Nice try, but... no. Because I had to sew up your back first, which you did not tell me about. Point to me.” She took another bite and chewed slowly, watching me carefully once more.

Groveling. She would enjoy watching, but- she did not respect weakness. Logic. It was my last hope. “Do you have any more of Rah's wax to reseal the tin?” I asked innocently.

Her chewing slowed and she eyed me suspiciously. “No. Why?”

I leaned around her and placed a hand on top of the container. “Because, without it, this last lonely sweet roll, sitting here all alone, will go stale. And that would just be wrong.”

She nodded and placed her hand over mine. “True. But... I could solve that problem by just keeping it for myself.”

“Well, yes, you could. But would you?”

She lifted her hand and placed it against my cheek and whispered, “No.”

And, although I know that I ate the sweet roll, that delicious morsel that spoke of home, happiness, and safety; I do not remember what it tasted like.

We set watches again, as much from habit as anything, but neither of us slept. We could feel that the end to all of this was close at hand. Karstaag. And after him, Hircine. I found my thoughts drawn again to Tharsten and his sacrifice. It was courageous, and it had worked, but... might there have been a different way? If he had been willing to work with us, rather than insisting on going it alone, what might have happened?

After our less than restful rest period- we could not really tell day from night inside this ice prison- I took my turn at preparing our meal, such as it was. The main thing was getting 'Thyna's tea brewed. I briefly considered withholding it, with the vague idea that Athynae without her requisite beverage could probably take on any number of giants, and possibly several Daedric princes, all by herself. But I repented of the thought when I realized that the first person to face her blind rage would be me. I set the tea within her reach and continued the rest of the preparations with the feeling of a man who had narrowly avoided stepping off a precipice in the darkness.

With more resignation than satisfaction over our meal, we checked our gear once more and approached the gate. Although it was somewhat of a risk, I felt compelled to remind Athynae, “Remember- no rushing ahead on your own. If our reasoning was correct, this 'giant' is probably going to be really tough.” She just looked at me, not offering any indication of her thoughts. Rather than pressing my argument, I amended it slightly. “Whatever he is; if he is big, he might also be slow. So, if you see a chance to strike a decisive blow at the start, do it.” Then I reached up and grasped her shoulder, giving her a slight shake, “And then- get away from him.”

She reached up to take my hand and changed my hold into a warrior's clasp. “Athlain. We fight together. We win together. We fight to live. Now, again,” and she smiled at me, “open the damned gate!”

I did as she asked, turning the key and then stopping to take the Gift in hand as I pushed the barrier with my shield. Athynae paced me on the left, and we found ourselves in a small vestibule, which opened into the largest chamber we had seen so far. Large rock formations spanned the roof of the space, looking like the beams in a great hall. But what caught and held our attention was the massive figure that prowled the center of the cavern. He had apparently not taken note of our presence, and I was glad of it. Keeping my voice low, I remarked, “Um... 'Thyna? That's not a grahl. And also, he is really big.” I paused and added with a smile, “So... would you think less of me if I tried to run screaming back through the gate?”

She furrowed her brow as if she was giving it serious thought and then shrugged, “Why no. In fact, there's no way I could possibly think less of you.”

“That's good to know, because I think I might have just widdled in my armor.”

Maintaining her mock-frown, she shook her head and sighed, “Honestly, I just can't take you anywhere.”

We used humor when there was nothing else. Rousing speeches about bravery and honor and sacrifice were the stuff of books or dramas that would have had us rolling our eyes. The reality of those concepts was so ingrained that we didn't have any need to talk about them. Besides all that, laughter was the best way we knew to hold back the darkness. And anyway, we had a giant to battle. I turned my attention to him, looking for anything that might give us an advantage, since running away screaming was not an option.

Karstaag stood over 20 feet tall, and had disproportionately large hands and feet, all four of which were tipped with massive black claws. His entire body was covered in thick fur the color of glacier ice, and he wore a bear pelt draped from his waist. From his belt hung two skulls, one of which appeared to be human and the other from a troll. I looked at his massive, domed head, which sported a pair of curved horns. And then I looked again, trying to credit what I thought I had observed. Sure enough, he had five eyes, with a row of three smaller ones set directly above the normal two.

The good news, in fact, the only good thing I had so far noticed was that, despite his ocular enhancement, he had not noticed us. Maybe we were too small. But, whatever the reason, it gave us a chance to observe his lumbering progress as he paced the chamber. He seemed to be waiting for something, and if his frequent wall-shaking bellows and bashing of the ice columns in the chamber were any indication, he wasn't happy about it. Wonderful. Not just a huge, five-eyed, ebony-clawed, horn-headed giant, but an enraged one.

But there was never going to be a good time for us to confront him, and my muscles were starting to stiffen up, either from trying to remain still- or from terror- probably both. I looked at Athynae and saw my thoughts reflected in her expression- except for the “terror” part- she just looked thoughtful. With a shrug that might have concealed a shiver, I told her, “I can't believe I am about to say this, but... I think our best option is to charge right in.”

She looked at me with a peculiar smile. “You think so, do you? Interesting.”

I ignored the jibe and said, “Yes. Wait until he turns his back again and try to take out his left knee- go for the ligaments. I will do the same on the right. He's big,” she rolled her eyes at my understatement, which I also ignored, “but he's slow. If we can hurt him badly right at the beginning....”

She nodded her agreement and wiped her hands before taking a fresh grip on Dreamer's hilt. My anxiety made me overly talkative and I went on, “One quick strike, then whatever happens, get out of his way. I will do the same.”

“Athlain. I have done this before,” she said dryly. Her eyes went back to the giant, and she amended, “Well, not this exactly, but I understand the concept. After all, I am not the one who gets dressed up in a tin suit and carries a dinner tray because I plan on getting hit.” She did a quick shuffle of her feet and bobbed her head, saying, “Quick and quiet. In and out, never a doubt.” Then her expression grew serious, “And you take your own advice! Do not try to go toe-to-toe with him.” Then the whimsical smile returned, “His toes are bigger than you are, anyway.”

“Oh just shut up and run!”

[SubRosa]

I enjoyed Athlain's musings about the complexity of Tharsten's character, and of the land in which he now walked. As Greg Boyington once said: "show me a hero, and I'll prove to you that he's a bum."

Nice send off of Tharsten to Sovngarde. He went out like a Jedi, turning into a force ghost and leaving nothing behind.

I also liked how Athain is realizing that he is not the same person he was at the beginning of this, nor Athynae. He was forever changed by time and fate.

It would not be the Elder Scrolls without a sweet roll!

Karstag + A&A = Fight! The giant sounds like quite the ominous threat, and certainly not someone in the mood to be bargained with. Hopefully A & A will be able to take out his wheels before the race starts. Otherwise this is going to be trouble.

[haute ecole rider]

OOohhh, this Karstaag sounds like BIG TROUBLE! And they’re not even in Little China!

I have to admit this simple little line shone and sang very brightly to me:

And, although I know that I ate the sweet roll, that delicious morsel that spoke of home, happiness, and safety; I do not remember what it tasted like.

Ah, I see Lainie and Thyna are going to try Julian’s patented Blade In The Knee maneuver! I look forward to seeing how this turns out for them!

[SubRosa]

Ah, I see Lainie and Thyna are going to try Julian’s patented Blade In The Knee maneuver! I look forward to seeing how this turns out for them!

As Minsc said: "The squeaky wheel gets the kick!"

[Renee]

Oh. Sorry for this noob observation, but now I get it. Blood on the Moon. So you are doing the Bloodmoon expansion? That is what's being told in this story? I have never done Bloodmoon, so if you are, sorry, because I only started playing the Morrowind base game in 2018.

Assuming all of that is true, that you are doing this expansion (DLC, whatever), are you doing it blindly? Or do you already know what happens? Curious.

They place all those deceased enemies at their fallen friend's feet, then burn them. Wow. That's hardcore.

Meanwhile, 'Thyna had asked a question, and had waited with uncharacteristic patience while my mind decided to go on a side excursion.

"Guar cubes" as well. Yuck.

She seemed to think recipes were “suggestions,” and her usual impatience caused her to think hotter is better, because it cooks things faster.

Oh my gosh.

Yeh, I agree with him. He did just sew her leg up. This meal scene is hilarious though.

And, although I know that I ate the sweet roll, that delicious morsel that spoke of home, happiness, and safety; I do not remember what it tasted like.

That's awesome. Yeah, his mind is somewhere else.

Whoa no. This boss-before-the-boss is huge. Uh oh.

[treydog]

@SubRosa- I was put in mind of Thurber's story, "The Greatest Man in the World." He does something that the media HAS to cover, but he is so bereft of anything "heroic" that they would really have preferred if he just crashed into the sea (along with his 6 pounds of salami and jug of bootleg gin). In the game version, Tharsten will agree to an alliance, but will betray the player character. (He is the owner of Hircine's Ring, and thus can turn wolf when he chooses to.) And that forced Athlain to confront his own choices and changes.

Had to include a sweet roll scene- because... like you say, it wouldn't be an Elder Scrolls story without one!

One Karstaag, coming up. And Minsc- probably my favorite BG character, ever! Along with Boo the Space Hamster. "Go for the eyes, Boo! Go for the eyes!"

@haute- Athynae is used to being as tall as most of her opponents (elf genetics), so the idea of a giant is... annoying. I think she hopes if she can make him "shorter", she can maybe hit him in the head... And since the idea is actually Athlain's, perhaps Julian gave him some pointers the efficacy of a mace to the knee while she was investigating him....

@Renee- no worries- the basis for the story might have been more apparent if it hadn't taken us so long to finish it. Anyway, yes. The original Trey story is the Morrowind main quest (and is a fairly close following of the actual game- dialogue included). Then the Tribunal add-on takes place rather "in the middle" of the original tale. (Trey: The Missing Months). That one is also a fairly close telling of the game plot. And finally, we have this one- "Trey: The Next Generation". I played all the way through the Bloodmoon expansion once, back when it first came out. Then, in order to refresh my memory of some of the NPCs and quest stages, I dove back into it. But, between my own desire to do more with the characters and the addition of a co-author (thanks Athynae), this story has far more creativity. But yes- other than some replaying (and use of the Wiki)- most of the writing is done from memory of the game events- or springs from our imaginations.

Athlain has become more "Nord" than even he realizes- giving Tharsten the best approximation of a Viking funeral as is possible (the making sure he had a sword in his hand, I cribbed from "The Last Kingdom"). And they have gotten in the habit of decapitating AND burning the werewolves, because they REALLY don't want to have to deal with any of them more than once.... Rahvin's guar cubes- basically a concentrated feed pellet- which probably tastes about as good to humans as one would suspect. I enjoy the "down-time" scenes even more than the action- the two of them are so much fun when they aren't fighting for their lives...

And now- Karstaag.

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

Of all the changes this stupid island had wrought, Ser Cautious advising that we just “charge right in” was the most unexpected. I almost felt like asking, who are you, and what have you done with Athlain? But I knew that this was Athlain, as he was always meant to be, with all of his potential finally being realized. And the fact that he was able to look at Karstaag and make jokes was even more reassuring. If he had truly been scared, he wouldn't have said anything. Of course, while confidence was a good thing, we still had to fight the giant and win.

After a bit more excessive Athlain explaining, something that had not changed, plus some teasing from me to steady his nerves- which was also normal- we were ready. As Karstaag turned away from us, we launched ourselves out of the entry, eyes focused on a pair of legs that looked like huge, blue-white tree trunks. “Should have brought an axe,” I thought, “or maybe a cross-cut saw would be better, since we were emphasizing teamwork.” I also had time to hope that there weren't any Hounds lurking in the shadows, because... that would be bad.

One thing at a time, Princess. It is well to prepare for all possibilities, but keep your eyes and your mind on the main purpose. Winning, Uncle Seth? Winning is good, but the main purpose is to stay alive.

And then we were right behind the giant, and he looked even larger than before. As much as I wanted to jump upward and try for his hamstring, I resisted the impulse. I knew I needed the strength of my legs, set firmly on the ground, to propel Dreamer's edge. My aim was true and I could see it was a good slash, right across the ligaments at the back of his knee, as strong a blow as I had ever landed. And it was a bit like hitting a stone column. I felt it all the way from my palms, through my wrists and elbows and into my shoulders, a vibration that made my teeth ache. But at least the giant felt it too; I saw that I had hurt him as I rolled clear and watched his leg buckle. I also heard a distinct “crack” and knew that Athlain had made his attack.

I hoped his blow had been effective, but I did not take the time to look. The point of the exercise was to strike and get clear, which was reinforced by the great, clawed hand that tore into the floor behind me as I regained my feet. A glance over my shoulder showed the giant down on his knees, arms flailing about, trying to catch and crush his tormentors. We had not planned what to do following the initial attack, something I would be sure to take up with “Commander Lainie” when I saw him again, but for the moment, I decided the entry was the safest place for me.

Once I reached the alcove, I was happy to see Athlain had come to the same conclusion. Actually, I was just happy to see Athlain, but he didn't need to know that. For his part, the first thing he said was, “I guess we should have talked about what to do after we hit him, but I was....” His words trailed off and he looked everywhere but at me. Even so, I could see the tops of his ears were red, so I counted it as a point to me.

“Anyway,” he rallied, “we hurt him, I think. Now we just... oh, guar dung.”

I looked where he was looking, toward the kneeling giant. Karstaag now had both hands flat on the floor as well as his knees, and I thought at first it was to support his massive weight. But then I looked more closely and realized that the ice around his shovel-like hands was disappearing. Or rather, it was being absorbed, flowing up his arms and down into his damaged legs.

“I guess he is like a grahl then,” Athlain noted.

I nodded gloomily and asked, “So what now? We need to keep at him, so he doesn't have time to heal, but how?”

Athlain's distant gaze told me his mind was running over our options at lightning speed. After a bit, he turned his eyes to me, determination etched in every line of his face. “Fire.” He pointed toward Karstaag, who was now lurching to his feet and peering around, trying to find us. “If ice heals him, fire should hurt him.”

The failure- or partial success- of our first attempt made my tone sharp. “So what? Are you going to build a bonfire, with all this wood,” I waved a hand to indicate the barren ice and stone of the cavern, “and invite him to warm up?”

He was back to staring at the giant, tightening the straps on his shield. When he answered my sarcasm, his voice was clipped. “No. You are going to shoot as many fire arrows at him as you can.”

I could tell there was more to this plan, and I could also tell that I wasn't going to like it. “And while I am doing that, you...?”

“Will be distracting him, so make your shots count.”

“Lainie, I don't like this plan. And I can hit him without your help.”

“Do you have a better plan? And can you be sure to get him to turn his face toward you so you can aim for his eyes?”

I muttered, “No. But...,” and I grabbed his chin and forced his head around so he was looking at me. “You keep away from him, you hear me? I will shoot him as much as I can, but you will only distract him, right?” And I moved his head up and down as if he was nodding. “Good. Now give me a minute to string my bow and prepare some arrows. And also, if this plan doesn't work any better than the first one, we will go with my plan.” Which I will think up before you get back, I added to myself. As I wrapped cloth around the arrow tips and dipped them in flammable oil, a litany of voices that sounded like an Imperial chorus ran through my head. Go to Solstheim. Save your friend. Prove yourself as a warrior. It brought a whole new meaning to the term “thrown to the wolves.” Maybe Mother was right and I should have been a diplomat.

I looked at Athlain, standing there calmly, waiting, trusting me to keep him safe- like always. Why did he have to insist on putting himself in danger? And why, in the name of Azura, did he have to be right? Once I had everything arranged to my satisfaction, I told Athlain, “I will try for head shots, especially for his eyes. I don't know if he has a brain, but melting it will probably be a good thing.” He nodded his understanding and then sprinted out of the vestibule, straight into danger as if he was just going for a run in his mother's garden. The giant turned clumsily to track the sudden movement, and I could see that the healing of his legs was incomplete. Maybe that information would be useful, and maybe Lainie would see the same thing. But for the moment, I needed to concentrate on my archery. Hitting a target the size of Karstaag's head wasn't difficult, but if I wanted it to count, his eyes were the best place. They were small in proportion to the rest of him, but I still thought that a blind, enraged giant was better than an enraged giant who could see.

Athlain was as good as his word, choosing his path so that the giant's head was turned to face me. I ignited the first arrow and sent it on its way, followed by another. Speed was almost more important than accuracy, at least for those first two. If fire really was going to work, we needed to know. And if my arrows found their mark, Athlain's chances of coming back to me were greatly improved. The first shot was all I could have hoped, striking the middle eye in the upper row. The impact caused Karstaag to throw his head back, so my second missile went into one of his broad nostrils. Regardless, both were effective- he raised his hands and began swatting at his own face, attempting to smother the fire. The problem was, with his hands in the way, I couldn't get a decent shot at his head. With a shrug, I sent arrows toward each of his already weakened legs. I just had a feeling if we could get him on the ground, defeating him would be easier.

Meanwhile, Athlain had been moving in a random pattern, following my advice about staying away. It was so gratifying when he actually did what I asked. The giant was in a berserk fury by this time, the bite of the flames all over his body showing that fire was an effective weapon against him. He decided that hitting himself in the head was not working and bent down to scoop up great piles of ice. I thought he was going to slap it on the burns, and I was half-right. He used the left hand to douse the fire on his face. However, he had a different plan for the other one. Since he could not see from whence the arrows that stung him originated, he turned his rage on the target he could see. A mass of snow and ice and rock the size of a small hut flew unerringly toward Athlain, who disappeared in a cloud of white pellets, the center of the artificial avalanche.

“Athlain!” I screamed, as I sent my last two fire arrows streaking toward the giant's blackened visage. Then I dropped my bow, something I would never normally do, and swept Dreamer from her sheath with my right hand. I had no clear idea of what I was going to do; I kept seeing that explosion of white with Athlain disappearing in the midst of it. And then all I saw was red, a red film seeming to cloud my vision. For half a breath I wavered- rescue... or revenge? I loved my bow; I loved being able to put arrows precisely into tiny targets at long range. But there was nothing as satisfying as the feel of my blade parting flesh and bone. Competition had not prepared me for how it would feel to take on opponents who would happily rend my flesh if given the chance. And in the case of the Hounds and probably this stinking, steaming giant, they would have eaten me as well. Oh and I was also going to have words with a certain Legion officer, best friend, and weapon enchanter about his failure to add a fire enchantment to Dreamer when he stole her. I mean, why not?

But all that was for later. For now, I faced the choice- go to find Athlain, or start chopping Karstaag into tiny bits? For once, hesitation was a good thing, because the giant was in trouble. The arrows to the face had not done him much good, but the two I sent into his knees, almost as an afterthought- those were far worse. The flames had reached the greasy bear pelt he wore and it was now fully engaged. Much as I wanted to hasten his demise, I realized that his frantic attempts to put out or avoid the flames made it just as likely that I would be stepped on or kicked across the cavern. So instead, I sprinted to the new snow drift rising from one side of the chamber. When I got near, I had no idea where or how to start searching. Desperation does strange things, and I suppose I fell back on old habits- such as yelling at Athlain when I was upset.

“Athlain Treyson, you had better come out of there this minute!” Gods, I sounded like my mother.

A section of the mound shifted and Athlain's shield appeared, followed by his arm and then the rest of him. “I can never get a moment's peace in this place,” he complained, shaking the rest of the ice off of himself. His eyes went to the capering, burning giant flailing wildly about the cavern and he attempted to give me the raised eyebrow look that Mother did so well. On him, it looked like he was trying to decide whether to sneeze or not. “Ah. Shouldn't we do something about that?”

If he could pretend that being buried by a ton of snow was nothing to worry about, so could I. Matching his dry tone, I replied, “Probably. But we go with my plan this time.”

His face got that stubborn look I knew so well. “Now hold on. That was only if my plan didn't work.” He pointed the Gift at Karstaag's plight and said, “I would call that a success.”

I folded my arms and started tapping my fingers on my bracer. “Oh? So... getting swept away by an avalanche was part of your plan, was it? You expect me to believe that? And if you knew his... apparel would catch fire, why didn't you suggest I shoot my arrows there instead of at his eyes? Which, I might add, would have meant both of us could have remained under cover.”

He was just opening his mouth to continue the debate when there was a final awful roar from the other side of the cavern and then a crash that knocked us both off our feet. Karstaag had succumbed to his injuries and fallen. We rose from the icy ground and could tell as the flames finally flickered out that he was not going to get up again. And as we watched, it was as if the very ice of the floor... reclaimed him. What had been his body flowed away, leaving nothing but a massive, horned skull.

I felt odd at his passing. It was true that he would have killed us if he could, but only because Lord Hairball had dragged him out of his castle and into this prison. He had been put in the same situation as us- fight or die. I had only ever heard about giants in myths and stories; until we had seen Karstaag, I was not sure that they actually existed. And now he was gone, and I could not but feel that the Mundus was a poorer place for his passing. Athlain seemed to feel the same way, he bowed his head and touched his lips to the Gift and raised in a silent salute. The quiet continued for a long moment and then we both shook off the feeling of melancholy and looked around. No gate or doorway appeared, and I asked Athlain, “So, what now?”

[haute ecole rider]

Welp, that wasn't quite the battle I thought it would be, but goes to show how well things turn out when you actually take the time to figure out your opponent. Fortunately the A&A team lucked out - things could have gone worse for them had their first strike not been so effective - I mean, what to do next??

Once more there is something that sang to me:

His eyes went to the capering, burning giant flailing wildly about the cavern and he attempted to give me the raised eyebrow look that Mother did so well. On him, it looked like he was trying to decide whether to sneeze or not.

As someone who can do that raised eyebrow look so easily (but only with my right eyebrow, not my left), I ROFL'd at Thyna's description of Lainie's look.