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Posted by: McBadgere Mar 29 2012, 06:18 AM

This story has characters which will eventually appear in the fiction of http://chorrol.com/forums/index.php?showtopic=4871&st=0, and is part of that story's timeline, so to help, here are a couple of links to it's characters and the timeline that it follows...

Please enjoy!...


http://chorrol.com/forums/index.php?showtopic=4871&st=107



http://chorrol.com/forums/index.php?showtopic=4871&st=133



11/02/13
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Original post start


Umm...I started doing some journal thing for the Khajiit character I created for Skyrim, called J'Zirlo...It does fit in with the KOTN:NK storyline, but, as with the main story, it's taken on a life of its own and is expanding rapidly into the realm of fan-fic rather than what should be in the "What you're doing" thread...

So I beg your indulgance for the less heavygoing in the Divine/Timejumping-ness journal of Sir J'Zirlo of New Kvatch...

Oh, btw...Cunningly concealed within the journal are spoilers to the entire Companions questline...If you've done it, it's fine...If you don't want to be spoiled...*Shrugs*... ...

The first bit is the original thing I posted after I created J'Zirlo...The rest is the journal as it stands so far, any new bits won't be as long...What do you mean Hooray? ..

Thank you...


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



"To where are you bound, friend Shaade?" J'zirlo asked.

"Riften. J'Drell asked me to see if I can muster up anything there. You?"

"Aaah...Khajiit is headed for Winterhold. That is where my scrawny reared kitten of a brother was headed. To that college up on the hill."

"A mage?" asked the Imperial Knight. "I had no idea."

"HAH!...He wishes." The large khajiit laughed. "No, he has grand ideas...But...Ach...Khajiit does his kin a great disservice. J'zargo is a decent warrior in his own right, just...Not as good as I." J'zirlo raised an eyebrow.

"Well, khajiit goes left, you, my friend, go right."

Shaade ran her hand down the length of her ponytail to straighten it, then held her hand out to J'zirlo. They clasped forearms.

"May your bed be free from fleas." She said with a smirk.

"Hah! And may your knees be ever free of arrows!" the khajiit repied with a smile.

"J'zirlo thinks that friend Shaade should smile more often. It is a beautiful sight."

The Imperial blushed, smiled and looked down at the floor. Then she pulled the khajiit close and kissed his cheek.

"Stay safe J'zirlo. Thank you."

And they parted.

J'zirlo watched Shaade walk south-east down the road for a while.

She looked back once and smiled.

The khajiit felt something in his heart stir.

"Until next time mii-kiit..." he said quietly, turned to his road, and walked, humming to himself.


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




...From the journals of General Sir J'Zirlo of New Kvatch, brother of Blademaster J'Zargo "The Magnificent".




Khajiit are not ones for journal writing. We find it tiresome. Actions speak louder than words and assorted cliches. And I know of at least one officious clerk that will attest to the pen absolutely failing to be mightier than the sword.

And yet, I find that I must write something. Events lately have been...Strange, to say the least.

Once Helgen was secured and re-settled, we - the Knights - were divided off and sent on our missions. Friends Caerellin, Dinasafon and Shaade...Ah! Shaade...Hah...Sorry, got lost musing. They were sent to do what it is they do best, and Olffson and I were sent to Whiterun to make contact with a group we were told were the "Fighters Guild of Skyrim" by the Commander.

Friend Dinas decided that he would be better off alone and left swiftly and silently. The Commander laughed and said, "Just like his father!" but then suddenly went all sullen and told us to leave. I understand not the ways of Argonians. They are a strange race.

Anyhow, the four of us left Helgen with our packs and walked merrily, joking and laughing our way down towards Riverwood. Well, I say we...Caerellin and Olfsson mostly joked, Shaade and I mostly laughed. She has a particular laugh I noticed. It is...Nice...

We made good time down from Helgen, which was a heartfelt joy, as under the late evening summer sun, Riverwood is beautiful. Fortunately, the wolves that shadowed us all the way down, kept away.

In a way that made both Shaade and I laugh, at exactly the same time, both Olfsson and Caerellin said, "Oooh!" and made for seperate directions. Olfsson to the forge he'd seen and Caerellin to the shop that some "pretty" (as far as I'm any judge!) woman had entered.

Shaade shook her head and said she would go and find friend Ralof's sister. I bade her be careful. She smiled. Aaah!..

I made my way to the forge. Olfsson was already bare chested and beating out some metal! That Nord is unstoppable I tell you! Anyways, between us, we took all of the stunned blacksmith's stock of smithing supplies and produced a small stack of weapons and armour - which would keep him in coin for many months, I say with some pride! - in a matter of small hours.

While all this was going on, friends Caerellin and Shaade appeared and declared they were leaving to do something in a barrow...Well, each to their own. Little did I know, it would be some time before I saw Shaade again, else I would have made more of a thing of her leaving. Ah well, the moons still cross the sky and other assorted cliches!

When Caerellin returned alone, and also bade us farewell, little did I know how things would change.



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



As the end of the daylight had been lost to helping the 'smith clear up his forge, Olfsson and I decided to accept the hospitality of friend Ralof's sister. However, we discovered that there was only one bed available. Olfsson looked at me and said, "We're not that close". The whole household erupted in laughter. Khajiit politely offered to stay at the inn, to which Gurdur said, "Only at our expense, with our apologies. But first, you dine with us." You couldn't find better peoples (or cooks, as it happens) anywhere.

Next morning, the Nord and I walked down a winding picturesque part-cobbled road. Suddenly we heard sounds of battle coming from the valley. Looking about us with life detect to check for prying eyes, we cast the speed fortifyer and rushed down to the valley floor.

Several people were fighting - with less than brilliant success - a Giant. Lest we tip our hand, we both slowed to normal speed and ran towards the battle.

Olfsson, as is his wont, charged at the Giant with his shoulder down. Knowing that at the last moment he would augment his speed and strength, I watched as he collided with the towering menace. The Giant toppled over onto a fence, the post of which skewered it through and out the stomach. He roared and tried to arch his back. I ran to the other end of the bearded aggressor, and, as he looked pleading at me, I removed his pain made of this world.

I turned to see Olfsson deep in conversation with a slight, yet obivously well able, red-headed Nord. As the party turned towards the city further into the valley, Olfsson turned back towards I and nodded. It seemed we had found the Companions.

My journey would have been quiet had it not been for the Olfsson-like Nord called Farkas that joined me, and began conversing with me about Heavy-Armour, a topic very close to my heart. A joy to finally meet someone as well able to discuss the intricacies of multi-weave metals and the despair of threading leather straps through Orichalium!!. A true master of Heavy-Armour I had found in Farkas, a Brother-in-Armour!!

And so I spent the hour of my journey to Jorvaskr - or however you spell the damned place - happy. A feeling that, sadly, was not to last.


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

Posted by: mALX Mar 29 2012, 05:19 PM

Posted by: King Coin Mar 29 2012, 10:26 PM

Great story so far, I hope to follow this one better than I did your other. No fault of yours of course.

Posted by: Acadian Mar 30 2012, 12:11 AM

Okay, I hereby nickname your delightful character: J’Lo.

’I understand not the ways of Argonians. They are a strange race.’
Unlike Khajiit, of course.

’As the end of the daylight had been lost to helping the smith clear up his forge, Olfsson and I decided to accept the hospitality of friend Ralof's sister.’
I really like how you worded this.

A fun jaunt up to Skyrim. J’Lo is a good tour guide.

Posted by: Grits Mar 30 2012, 01:15 AM

Yay, J’Zirlo’s journal! How fun to imagine Farkas chatting away about a subject that’s close to his heart. Also the thought of Blademaster J’Zargo “The Magnificent” makes me smile. I’m looking forward to more of this!!

Posted by: McBadgere Mar 30 2012, 06:37 PM

Cheers all...

mALX - Thank you for all that... ...Glad you're on board for this one too...

Grits - As ever...Thank you so much...

KC - No worries mate... ...I appreciate your taking the time to read this one...*Bows*...

Acadian - Of course you did!!...However, my J'Lo is attractive, not pretentious and can actually dance... ...Cheers mate... ...



We continue...


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


Whiterun. A city perched astride the only hill in the midst of a valley ringed by snow-capped mountains. Behind us looms the tallest mountain in the whole of Tamriel. The delightfully oddly named Throat of The World. Whatever that means.

The valley is littered with farms, windmills turning lazily in the breeze. We pass a meadery and have to drag a mock-protesting Olfsson away.

He has an uncanny way with people that Nord.

I am surprised to find that even though we are much beyond Bruma - which Whiterun reminds this Khajiit of so much - it is actually pleasantly warm. This pleases us no end. Tales of whiteout snows were much awry it seems!

We pass the Whiterun stables and climb uphill towards the city gate.

It is said that only mad dogs and Skingrad men go out in the midday sun. Maybe we should add Whiterun guards to that list. No sooner had the other Companions passed by, but one of them decided to stand in the way, blocking my path.

"You aren't allowed in there cat, you should know that."

"Aww c'mon Dice, he's with us." Said my newest friend Farkas.

"You know it's illegal. Khajiit aren't allowed in the cities."

Of all the idiocies! I noticed all of the Companions and Olfsson had stopped and turned around. Olfsson started back towards me, but I shook my head the smallest amount.

Addressing the idiot before me I said, "Khajiit is from Cyrodiil. Apologies, we did not know. To whom do we speak to address this unfortunate situation."

"Well, Solitude is where the..." The guard actually sighed! "Combined Government of the True Empire and Thalmor Remnant sit. Good luck with that, Cyrodiil. You'll be dead before you get three steps from the door. Feel free to use the cart at the bottom of the hill though."

Before my rising anger could cause...A scene, I counted to ten.

And then I counted some more.

Just as I was about to speak again, a surprise voice broke in.

"Jack!"

I looked towards the shouter.

"Jaaaack!! There you are, we were getting worried."

Caerellin strode towards us with a huge grin on his face.

"Come on! Farengar's been worried about you. Thought you'd gotten lost!" At this point he patted me roughly in the back.

Oh, now Khajiit was also to be called Jack! Oh joy, why am I not surprised?

"Farengar?..The wizard?" asked the guard.

"Yeah, Jacky-boy here's come all the way from Cyrodiil. Had a bit of unfortunateness with a potion. Made him look and sound exactly like a Khajiit." Caerellin sniffed. "and smell. Ew. You need a bath Jacky. Anyways, old Farengar's apparently going to turn him back into a good old Imperial. So there you go. Come on Jack. Quick as you like."

The guard stepped further into the road.

"He looks and sounds like a Khajiit. That's all that matters to me."

A growling sounded from somewhere around our knees. Caerellin's wolven familiar had decided to make an appearance.

"Yeah well." Said the Bosmer Knight. "This isn't a wolf. Looks like one. Sounds like one. Bet if it tore your throat out it would feel just like a wolf. Should I nip up and ask old Farengar to come down here to ask your opinions face to face?"

The guard turned white.

"Good man."

The familiar growled and the guard paced quickly backwards and stumbled slightly.

"Come on in Jacky boy, Whiterun's a-calling."


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

Posted by: Acadian Mar 31 2012, 12:23 AM

’The valley is littered with farms, windmills turning lazily in the breeze.’
A wonderful image, this! So easy to clearly imagine.

Poor J’Lo is now Jacky the cat and getting patted roughly on the back. Oh well, at least our little crew bested the unarmed guard in a battle of the wits. The things a cat has to put up with.

Despite the bad treatment of Khajiit, you are providing a delightfully fun read here!

Posted by: Athynae Mar 31 2012, 02:22 AM

Finally I made it, yay me, and I'm almost breathing normal again too, woohoo, still sniffly though. Well la ti da...right

I love it so far, sounds like a budding relationship there between J'z and Shaade, and a wonderful way to weave it in.

But I have to say my absolute favorite line is this:

Posted by: King Coin Mar 31 2012, 02:57 PM

I found it kind of funny that Khajiit aren't allowed in the cities... except if you are one. I suppose that's just to keep the game from being irritating. Whatever.

I enjoyed J'zirlo's difficulties at the gates. A little name dropping can get you far, or at least inside a city.

Posted by: Grits Apr 2 2012, 10:05 PM

I love how Caerellin got “Jack” into the city. That way Olfsson didn’t have to charge at the guard.

Sounds like a beautiful day in Whiterun.

Posted by: Zalphon Apr 3 2012, 02:30 AM

"Looks like one. Sounds like one. Bet if it tore your throat out it'd feel just like a wolf."

I like that line

Posted by: mALX Apr 3 2012, 03:48 PM

I know one Skingrad man that doesn't go out in the midday sun, ROFL !!

They let werewolfs in but not Khajiit, that had me rolling - as did the below two quotes !!!

Posted by: McBadgere Apr 4 2012, 04:39 AM

Thank ye all, I'm glad you're enjoying...Much appreciation to you all... ...

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


“By all the sands in the desert I thank you my friend, but that should not have worked.” I said to friend Caerellin as he, newest friend Farkas and I passed through the gateway to Whiterun.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Khajiit had already told the fool that we were, in fact, Khajiit.”

Friend Caerellin looked back and swore. “Missed that...Right, wait here, I’ll be back in a moment.”

“He seems fun.” Observed Farkas.

I nodded, the Bosmer did indeed seem so. I neglected to suggest to the Nord that had my friend wished, the entire guardary of Whiterun would now be lying in pools of their own blood; And that should my seemingly fun friend give the word, it would be likely that the three of us Knights could take control of the city.

I thought it more...Polite to not, really.

Looking about myself, I took in the delights of Whiterun that I could see. An abundance of timbered buildings gave answer to the question as to why there were few trees in the valley. Beautifully and solidly built, everything was timber, from houses to shops, workshops and Inns were to be seen even from just inside the gate. Certainly, this was perhaps the last place anyone would want to be if a dragon was about. The city would be ashen by evening!

I noticed that most of the Companion group were heading up the road, the show outside the gate now over. I suggested to friend Farkas that he catch up with them, and that I would find my way to this Jorrvaskr soon enough.

“Oh, okay. If you’re sure...If you get lost, just ask anyone here, they’ll point you in the right direction.”

I watched as he ran to catch up with his company.

My gaze was drawn to the forge...as it ever is! Outside the smithy, two people were deep in discussion. The sight made my hackles rise. I may have hissed.

Maybe...

But anyway, talking to what was, I later found out to indeed be the Blacksmith, was a soldier of the Traitor Legion. Not so much a Legionnaire as a Leggies-out as they say in the Imperial Legion. I mean really, you escape to Skyrim, the coldest country in Tamriel and you design a uniform that is essentially, a dress? What damned fool thought that was a good idea? One decently placed frost trap and...Well...Snow balls anyone? Oh, I know, I’ll go running uphill and down dale in my dress, oh damn, my legs have snapped from the cold.

Idiot. At least the old Imperial Legion uniform had fur lining. And the proper number of pieces to it. Bare legs. Idiocy.

Ah, I sigh!

The Legionnaire was suggesting that they needed more swords and faster. The lady suggested that she was going as fast as she can. I decided to suggest that he shove what swords he had somewhere dark.

Fortunately, friend Caerellin grabbed my arm before I could get too near.

“Save it.” he said.

I sighed and nodded.

We walked up the road.


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

Posted by: mALX Apr 4 2012, 06:24 PM

Well, we def know his political bent, odd choice for a Khajiit, lol. Great Write!

Posted by: Acadian Apr 5 2012, 12:10 AM

’likely that the three of us Knights could take control of the city. ‘
This speaks either highly of our knights or perhaps lowly of the city. Likely both I figure.

Loved J’Lo’s observations on Men in Tights Legionnaires in Dresses. Snow balls indeed.

Seriously now, with a gently effectiveness you show us the power, chivalry and restraint of your knights here. Well done!

Posted by: King Coin Apr 5 2012, 01:37 AM

The commentary about the legion uniform made me think of kilts. Lol.

Posted by: McBadgere Apr 5 2012, 01:15 PM

mALX...Not sure about that, they're up against everyone in this adventure... ...

Acadian...Thank you very much...At some point you may get to see what the Knights can actually do in a fight... ...And thank you for your words at the end...I appreciate that muchly... ...

KC...Lol... ...

I would just like to add I mean no offence to Kilt wearers...It's just a personal observation about the Legion armour being like the stuff from New Vegas as opposed to what we had in Oblivion, which would make more sense in the snow...Y'know?... ...

Aaamywho....Cheers all!!...


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





“Well, that was a piece of luck.” Caerellin informed me.

“You? Luck? This surprises me.” I lied.

My friend grinned and continued, “As luck would have it, the Commander of the guard chose that moment to do an inspection.”

“This is lucky?”

“It is if he happens to be one of those we’re looking for.”

I was stunned! Mere hours into our missions and here was the first result! “But wait,” said I, “how can you be sure?”

Caerellin stopped short and frowned at me. I suddenly noticed the aurora of magicks around his eyes.“Well, one, he recognised me from years ago, which is no easy feat for an Imperial. Two, he pulled me to one side and said those three little words I was longing to hear.”

I raised an eyebrow in question.

“Commander’s cousin’s Khajiit. And three, I used my blessing.”

Since Talos first bestowed his Blessing on Robert McWylde two centuries ago, there have been many of the Knights down the years who received a Divine Blessing. Powers which go beyond the “normal”. One of which, is to “see” the calling of one of the Divines in other Knights.

“Excuse me, my friend. It has only been a matter of weeks since Zenithar chose to bless J’Zirlo in this way. We find it...Difficult.”

Unlike most Bosmer, friend Caerellin was only a little shorter than your average Imperial. Leaning near to me, Caerellin said quietly. “Well, you’re going to have to get used to it if you’re going to do this.” He gestured about himself. “C’mon ‘Zirlo, J’Drell could have had the Knights Shadow do this, or just ordered a full-scale invasion. But no, he’s trying to do this with as little bloodshed as possible. And the easiest way is to find if any of the old Knights escaped the Purge and managed to stay out of Dinai’s little Stormcloak idiocy.

If we can pick up any allies along the way, like yer Companions over there, then it’s all good. But at the moment, all we’ve got is us six and our Blessings to try and find everyone. Anyways, I’m meeting the good Commander later, in the Inn. He also suggested I talk to the Bosmer in this shop and the Breton in the other one. So that’ll be me then.”

“Khajiit apologises General. We did not mean to appear afeared. J’Zirlo will do all he can.”

“Enough with the General as well, J'Drell's made us all Knight-Marshals. Noone outranks the others now.”

I raised my eyebrow again.

“Shut up.” He laughed. “But one more thing.”

“Of course.” I said.

“It’s unfortunate, but we really could have used more snoops on this. Dinas, me...Even Shaade,” Ah Shaade! “we’re all decent snoops. J’Drell used to be Investigato, but I doubt he can pull that off anymore. And Although he’s no idiot, Olfsson’s about as subtle as an avalanche, so you, are going to have to do all the snooping while Olfsson’s being...Olfsson.”

“One question my friend.”

“Yes?” he answered.

“What is...Snoop?”


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

Posted by: mALX Apr 5 2012, 06:35 PM

Posted by: McBadgere Apr 5 2012, 06:55 PM

Ummm...McWylde died 50 years earlier (as mentioned in the other story)...His Grandfather was Altmer so he lived longer anyways...

I meant that McWylde was given the Talos power 200 years earlier...As in...The 200 years that Oblivion/KOTN was before Skyrim time, which is when this story is set...

Cheers though...

Posted by: mALX Apr 5 2012, 06:59 PM

QUOTE(McBadgere @ Apr 5 2012, 01:55 PM)

Posted by: McBadgere Apr 5 2012, 07:33 PM

Lol... ...Sorry, it's my fault...

This story is all Skyrim...And one small section of it at that... ...Well...When I say small...This is me... ...

Posted by: Acadian Apr 6 2012, 12:13 AM

Loved the bit about each of the knights having a divine blessing – the origins of which date back to Bobby The WyldeOne. So, J’Lo’s blessed by Zenithar.

The ending here was so neat. Olfsson be Olfsson, leaving snoop to Khajiit.

Great fun!

Posted by: Grits Apr 6 2012, 01:36 AM

Posted by: McBadgere Apr 6 2012, 12:52 PM

Yes, I know...Another bit...But I think that all four parts together are only as long as one of the latest NK posts...So...Y'know... ...

mALX and Acadian, thank you, as ever for reading...I know I can be difficult to follow at times... ...And Acadian, thank you for that entirely new way of seeing my Champion of Cyrodiil... ...

Grits...Many many thanks for your ever brilliant encouragment... ...*Bows*...


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




We parted with more good news, it seemed that our surprise new ally was going to see to it that I was able to come and go through the city gates as I pleased. No more to be challenged by the challenged. This is good!

What’s more, this courtesy was to be extended to the Khajiit caravans and their traders!

Ah, truly the Age of Enlightenment was about to begin.

I headed in the direction I’d seen Olfsson and the Companions go. Through the colourful market, selling all sorts of wares - fresh fruit, jewellery, trinkets, odd and ends, that sort of thing. Some may call it junk, but as equally, some may call them treasures.

I ascended up a set of stairs that lead to an archway in an imposing wall, a stream passed through a second one to one side. As I reached the top, I beheld a truly impressive sight. An immense tree, not the healthiest specimen I have ever seen, but one which suggested that before whatever malady was ailing it, it was a sight to rival the Great Oak in Chorrol.

Ah Chorrol, not long had it been since we left Cyrodiil, but already a sadness for my home was growing. So much in the country is the same evil - bandits, marauders, mythical creatures, vampires - but the scale of what we were about to do...It scared us to high Aetherius sometimes.

I gazed at the tree some more, greying boughs led off a huge thick trunk, giving it a look of one from the scary tales parents often tell children in the cold nights, but somehow, I felt sad looking at it. As if, I had just missed something.

I approached the tree. I asked of the lady tending to it. “Excuse us milady, a lost Khajiit could use help?”

She jumped up, brushing soil from her hands, onto the sides of her robes. “Oh! My! Yes...Hello.”

“A truly impressive sight, milady?”

“Danica Pure-Spring.” She said.

“Er...” I answered.

“My name,” She laughed, “is Danica Pure-Spring, High-Priestess of Kynareth.”

“Oh!” said I, “Ah, yes, of course! Sir J’Zirlo of New Kvatch, at your service milady.” I bowed.

“Maybe you can be someday, Sir J’Zirlo of New Kvatch. Now, how can I help you?”

“J’Zirlo has to find the home of The Companions?...Jorrvaskr or some such name? However, Khajiit seems to have mislaid his guide.” I smiled.

The lady Danica smiled also and pointed up to an impressive wooden – well, what else? – building, that seemed to have – of all things – a giant Nordic longboat as a roof. As one does. But we are far from any rivers here. It must have been some feat to walk across the lands with that on their shoulders, even ones as big as Olfsson’s!

As I looked up to the - admittedly impressive - building, friend Farkas appeared at the door and looked about, seemingly to see if we were on our way up. He saw that I was by the mournfully beautiful tree and headed down.

“Lady Danica.” He greeted and bowed his head.

“Sir Farkas.”

“Aaah, stop teasing.” He smiled, “You know I’m no Knight.”

“Gildergreen says otherwise Sir Farkas. Trust her.”

“Gildergreen?” I asked.

“The tree.” Said friend Farkas. “Lady Danica says it’s alive.”

“She, Sir Farkas, is alive and very much aware of everything.” The Lady looked deeply into Farkas’ eyes.

For some reason, friend Farkas looked down. Ashamed? For why? We would endeavour to find out!

“One day, we will need both of your help. Please. Return when you have done what needs to be done.”

With that, the lady bade us farewell and returned to her tending.

Friend Farkas looked up at the tree, put a hand to it, almost lovingly, and then sighed, turned and walked up towards the longhouse.

“Come on,” he said, “I think your friend’s about to start a riot.”

“Sounds about right.” Said I, and followed him up.


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

Posted by: mALX Apr 6 2012, 05:25 PM

Posted by: Acadian Apr 7 2012, 12:18 AM

‘No more to be challenged by the challenged.’
Very clever, this.

“My name,” She laughed, “is Danica Pure-Spring, High-Priestess of Kynareth.”
I love it! What a perfect name for a Priestess of Kynareth! As was Gildergreen for the tree. Oops, I just did some digging with my UESP shovel and sorted out that Bethesda gets credit for naming this pair. The whole bit with the poor old tree was wonderful and a nice reminder that J’Lo’s ‘roots’ are back in the same province as Chorrol.

J’Lo’s observations continue to be very fun to read, from everything being made of wood to using a boat for roofing material.

Posted by: Athynae Apr 7 2012, 05:26 PM

Begging many pardons for getting so far behind my friend.

Thoroughly enjoyed these additions, the imagery is quite wonderful especially for one who has no visual knowledge of Skyrim (sacrilege I know but I haven't got there yet, late bloomer hehe)

I think I see how things are coming together but I ain't sayin' cuz I don't want to look dumb if I'm wrong.

GOOD STUFF! Loving every minute of it. Keep it coming.

Posted by: Grits Apr 7 2012, 07:57 PM

I love the exchange between Danica and Farkas! J’Zirlo is a pure joy to read.


mALX, you made me spit tea!!

Posted by: Colonel Mustard Apr 8 2012, 09:22 AM

Excellent stuff! Loved the descriptions of the area around Whiterun, the dialogue between J'Zirlo and Danicaand my favourite bit so far has to be the confrontation at the gate. Prose is excellent as always, I'm loving your characters, and J'Zirlo's asides and observations on things are a delight to read.

Good show!

Posted by: McBadgere Apr 8 2012, 11:53 AM

mALX - ...I was going more with the ashamed and agonizing about being a werewolf meself...But thank you...*Is grinning btw...Just in case... *...

Acadian - Yeah, sorry, I will allow Bethesda some credit for those names... ...Really is a beautiful piece of design that tree...And the parent tree that's elsewhere in the game (Eldergreen? Eldergleam Grove or something.)...I can't fault the design and art people on Skyrim...Simply beautiful place...Possibly worth playing it and never doing any quests...Just exploring!... ...Er...Sorry, yes...Thank you again, I'm glad you're enjoying this...I'm having a blast writing it...Much easier on the brain... ...

Athynae - No worries m'friend... ...Always glad you enjoy whatever I provide, for to take up yer time with... ...Thank you so much...

And, as I'm sure others will attest to, it really doesn't take this long to get through the door in the game... ...But again, this is me...

Grits - Thank you, as ever, people who don't really get much to do, but I feel like they've got a lot more to say to me will be given more of a chance through this story...Probably... ...

Mustard!! - Awright maytey!!...M'thanks m'friend...Glad you checked this new one out, and like it too!!...Cheers matey!!...



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





As we walked up the steps towards the home, I turned my head to look back once more at the tree, Gildergreen. So beautiful. With so few trees to speak of, about what I’d seen of the city so far, it really did speak volumes of its power. To have avoided the axe and saw for so long, truly the power of Kynareth must be with it.

The other imposing sight contained within the park area of Whiterun was a giant statue of Tiber Septim, the Divine Talos. I found this surprising. We had been told of the Thalmor’s banning of Talos worship within the country, so the leaving of such a huge statue standing seemed almost confrontational. While we had seen no Thalmor in Whiterun so far, surely the presence of the True Empire fools in the city would have meant the removal of such a giant icon and his shrine?

A priest of Talos stood preaching his very heart out to all, and yet, to no one at all, as if just by being within earshot of the poor man might cause the doom of the Thalmor to be visited upon then and theirs.

Ah! But no matter, behind the poor man stood the Divine Septim in all his battle glory. Resplendent in his Dragon Armour, wolven pelt cape and winged helmet. Ah, the temptation to go back and pray at the shrine was almost too much! I merely nodded my head in salute and continued up the steps.

At the top, a few feet above our heads, there was a carved crossbeam, which passed over the width of the sizeable pathway. Two posts supported it, one either side. In front of each was a carved wooden representation of a Dragon head. I looked to the oft-patched against leaks, longboat roof of the building - supported by more carved oaken pillars – and saw several more of the Dragons seemingly peering about the place. I asked friend Farkas about this.

“Uh, I don’t really know why. Vilkas might know, my brother. He’s the one with the smarts.”

“Ah, you do not credit yourself highly enough my friend. What you have already spoken of on the subject of armours would be beyond many, I suspect even your brother with the smarts.”

“Friend?” Farkas frowned and looked questioningly at I.

“Well, if you so wish. J’Zirlo would be honoured to call Farkas, friend.”

“Oh. Well...Friend it is.” He smiled and nodded and held out his forearm to me. We clasped, as brothers in arms do, and then he continued, “As for the Dragon heads, I honestly have no real idea, it may have something to do with that place up there,” he pointed his thumb up over his shoulder, up towards a truly massive, imposing palace that Olfsson and I had seen dominating the valley, atop the only hill on the valley floor, “it’s called Dragonsreach. Why? That really is a question for Vilkas.” He smiled. “That’s where the Jarl is, if you ever need to see him.”

I resolved to go and look closer at the palace of Dragonsreach as soon as a free moment should happen to me. From where I stood, it seemed as if the obsession with wood had run into some sort of wall. Literally. For one half of the giant, many layered palace - which must have taken half the trees in Skyrim to build - was timber, that much was obvious, even from where we stood, and the other half was a truly immense, stone block Keep. At least half as tall again as some of the castles in Cyrodiil. Yet this was no castle. It seemed dark, foreboding. This was simply a giant block of blocks, built for a purpose.

And yet, looking at it provided no clue as to what.

Ah! Perhaps this brother of Farkas’ would provide answers. Perhaps not. We shall see.

Friend Farkas followed my gaze, “Aye. Scares the cr@p out of me too.” He patted me on the shoulder, then walked to the longhouse’s door and pulled it open. The Nord then gestured for me to follow.

I took one more look about myself, then walked into Jorrvaskr.



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

Posted by: Colonel Mustard Apr 8 2012, 12:40 PM

Well, not tons to say, seeing as not tons happened, but agood part nonetheless and I'm enjoying the little hints as to the nature of your AU Skyrim you dropped here, which were interesting. I'm intrigued to see exactly what this means for the story later on.

Posted by: mALX Apr 8 2012, 03:47 PM

(Wolf howl) Farkas found a friend !! I like Farkas, haven't had a lot of contact with Vilkas yet other than the initial boxing match, lol. Great Write !!!

Posted by: Acadian Apr 9 2012, 12:43 AM

My advantage here is the same as my disadvantage: I’ve never been north of Pale Pass. So I don’t exactly know where the lines are between the Brothers ‘B’ (Badgere and Bethesda). I’m really fine with that as long as you are. I like how J’Lo is telling us about this place, from the statue and worship of the banned Septim named Tiber, to the patched long boatian roof to the giant stone keep of Dragonsreach.

I really liked your description of Talos’ statue and how J’Lo nodded his head in salute.

Posted by: King Coin Apr 9 2012, 02:09 AM

challenged by the challenged


Interesting with the tree and Farkas.

I like the role Farkas is playing so far. Whiterun is built in the middle of a huge plane without a tree in sight, so the tree in the middle of the town is quite remarkable. I never really thought about it until your story though. Good job.

Posted by: Athynae Apr 9 2012, 12:16 PM

Wonderful again, the visual of the entrance and the inside of the palace was quite the image. The conversation between Farkas and J'Z was comfortable and I liked it very much. You did a wonderful job with the dialog making it realistic for the time I think.

Ok, let's get on with it now, I'm ready for more.

Posted by: McBadgere Apr 15 2012, 05:03 AM

My many thankses to all of you...*Bows head in gratitude*...

Though a note to Acadian, the long-boat on the roof of the Companions' home is just awesome to look at...When I did the...Research...Not playing...No it wasn't...I was - yet again - stunned by the idea of turning the boat over and using it as a roof...Mad those Bethesda people are... ...

Where we were - J'Zirlo had been taking in the sights of the city of Whiterun in Skyrim, and now - finally - he'd reached the home of the Companions, Jorrvaskr and headed inside...



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



As I walked forward of the doors, I heard what I would call, more traditional Nordic sounds – Cheering, clapping, banging tankards on tables and above all else, the sound of one person striking another repeatedly about the head with something.

Olfsson had decided to engage himself in a fist-fight - as he does – with a small Dark-Elf and a fellow Nord lady. Well, I say lady. Her impressive knowledge of curses suggested maybe too many trips to the docks...Maybe...J’Zirlo has no idea, he is only saying, is all.

I watched as they attempted to take Olfsson at once from both sides of what appeared to be a cleared practice area in an otherwise furniture-full room.

The lopsided grin on Olfsson’s face told me he was really enjoying this. There really was no way they could hurt him, so he was just play acting with them.

The Dunmer punched low at the same time the Nord girl went high, friend Olfsson took the punch to the stomach with an “Oof!” but that was all, he was concentrating on not having his head removed by the right hook that seemed determined to do so. His head snapped backwards to avoid the punch just as his hands shot up to catch the extended arm of the girl, he pulled her arm forward and around her so that it made the girl twirl, then he pushed her away and kicked her in the behind so that she sprawled into the chairs and a couple of onlookers. Much laughing! And cursing...Much cursing. How did one discover so many variations? Even Khajiit didn’t know some of them. Anyways, even as Olfsson’s foot connected with Nordic rear, he used the twist back to catch the Dunmer under his guard and cause him to fly through the air into other chairs. More cheering! Olfsson looked over to me and grinned broadly, Ah! My brother! I bowed my head to him, just as a particularly vicious stream of curses barrelled into Olfsson’s midriff and carried him backwards into other chairs. Needless to say, more cheering!

My viewing pleasure was interrupted when friend Farkas approached I, with an older, bearded man at his side.

“J’Zirlo, this is Kodlak Whitemane, he in charge of keeping us honest.” Farkas grinned.

The other grinned and looked at Farkas as he said, “No easy task, I assure you.” He turned to me and walked forwards with his hand extended. I shook it as he said, “My name was not always Kodlak, but when you become the Companion’s Harbinger or spiritual guide, that’s what happens. Whitemane has followed me for a goodly few years, thanks to my mother.” He grinned.

“J’Zirlo of New Kvatch,” I said as I shook his hand, “also thanks to my mother.” And grinned.

The Kodlak’s eyebrows raised and there seemed to be a question on his lips, but then his eyes looked right and his head turned fractionally towards Farkas, who was watching the fight anyway. Whitemane said, “Wolfshead over there, which is, by the way, possibly the most ironic name of anyone who’s ever wanted to be here, said you were both ex-Legion.”

“Wolfshead?” said I.

“Yes, your friend Olff Wolfshead?” The Kodlak was frowning.

Olff Wolfshead? What on Nirn was the man talk-

Oooohhhh.

The name Olfsson was likely as famous in Cyrodiil as McWylde’s, and probably figured to change his name up here, should needs be. Shame “Wolfshead” couldn’t have said something to Khajiit earlier no? It seems as though even Olfsson was better at this “snooping” than I. Khajiit hadn’t even changed where we were from.

I may have flattened my ears in shock and embarrassment.

“Ah yes, Wolfshead. Khajiit apologizes, we spent too long in the tavern last night. Khajiit mistakenly believed we could out-drink him.” I pointed to where Olfsson currently had the girl off the floor and held aloft with one hand, until she twisted and with a kick to his face, freed herself and sent Olfsson backwards into a third set of chairs. Surprisingly enough, more cheering.

Whitemane laughed and applauded. “Brave lad you. We Nords could out-drink anything. I may tell you one day of the time my father outdrank a Giant out at his wateringhole on the plain out there.

“But that is for another day, and should you pass this first test.

"I need to see if you can genuinely handle yourselves. Although, granted, there’s not many who could take those two on and still stand,” Whitemane gestured over to the fight, “but I also need to know whether you can handle your swords in a steel fight.”

“We are very well trained.” I assured the man.

“That’s as maybe, but we’ll have Vilkas check how the Cyrodillian standards could have fallen down the years.” Whitemane grinned and called out to those watching the fight.

Ah! Friend Vilkas, he looked a lot like his brother – the same black hair – but he was taller than Farkas, of a slighter build. He had dark circles tattooed around his eyes, and several scars which suggested many fights.

He approached the three of us.

“Could you take young J’Zirlo here and Wolfshead out and test their...Ahem...Metal?”

“Of course.” He paused, about to say something.

Whitemane sighed. “Go on.”

“Is it wise to let these two in, we already have a full compliment. We have no idea who these two actually are.”

“Maybe not, but we do not have anything like a full compliment of Companions, as well you know. We do not, either, turn away those who ask to join without first finding out whether they can help us, Vilkas. And it’s not your place to question.”

“But I-”

“Enough Vilkas, test them...Please.”

I looked between the two men, some sort of unspoken fight was going on here, I could feel it.

Vilkas looked at me and asked to see my sword. I drew it. A long ebony blade that I had wrought myself after Zenithar had blessed me. Its dark length inlaid with gold tracing. The crosspiece had more tracing on.

Vilkas’ jaw dropped.

Whitemane frowned again and looked at me. “I know a man who’d be very interested to speak to you.”

Olfsson had stopped fighting when he heard my sword leave its scabbard and looked over. Unfortunately, this was the point when the two Companions were in front of him, and a punch from the girl’s right hand hit friend Olfsson at the same time as the Dunmer’s left, and Olfsson went down hard. And as a change, more cheering and clapping.

“Uh...Okay.” said Vilkas. “Come on then, outside.”

I looked to where I had deposited my pack.

“Oh, don’t worry about thieves in here...We’re paid too much to need to steal stuff.” Said friend Farkas, “Unless you play cards with Torvar, then your money will disappear.”

With a shrug, I walked around the long, three-sided table in the centre of the room, and followed friend Vilkas out the back of Jorrvaskr.



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

Posted by: Colonel Mustard Apr 15 2012, 07:02 AM

Posted by: King Coin Apr 15 2012, 07:58 PM

Traditional Nordic sounds.

Wolfshead. I agree with Kodlak. Love it.

Poor Vilkas, having to test the knights.

Posted by: Acadian Apr 16 2012, 01:04 AM

This was a fun and rowdy romp through the mead hall! The ongoing backdrop of the threesome fight was nicely done. Hmm, seems to be a sip of tension betwixt Whitemane and Vilkas.

I had to laugh when J’Lo drawing steel distracted Olfie into the double whammy which coaxed him to the floor.

Posted by: Grits Apr 16 2012, 05:20 AM

Neat observation about Dragonsreach, all those times charging up the steps and I have never looked at how it is built. I love how you’re writing Farkas. I’m going to expect to hear your dialog when I’m in Jorrvaskr now!

Ah! Perhaps this brother of Farkas’ would provide answers. Perhaps not. We shall see.

J’Zirlo is such a treat! He had me laughing again in the next part with his description of the friendly brawl, or rather of Njada’s cursing. Nice that it was J’Z’s sword that got Olfsson's attention over the two Companions he was fighting.

I’m really enjoying this!

Posted by: McBadgere Apr 16 2012, 05:27 PM

Oh look, Robert is posting something...Well, it's been at least some hours since I did that... ...

Thank you all so very much...I'm really enjoying doing this...And it's massively encouraging...Always...

Oh, and Mein Colonel, after you said that, I kinda slapped my expansive slap and realised I had actually known that fact...Just kinda slipped the old Noggin(thenog ...OOoh!!! Kinda appropriate joke there...Inadvertant funny alert!!! )...

Cheers all...You rock!!... ... ...



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




As we left the warmth of the mead hall, it seemed that Vilkas and I had become infinitely more interesting than the repeated punching of Olfsson. Everyone filed out of Jorrvaskr after us, to watch Vilkas’ testings. A sentence I hope to never have to read again.

Urgh.

Anyways.

I sighed. This was not going to go well for the man.

We walked down a few steps to the training yard, with all the things one needed to train with weapons – Archery targets and the like. Well, all except anything moving at least.

We reached the place where friend Vilkas decided we were to do our sporting.

“Prepare to defend yourself.” The Nord said, and levelled the Greatsword he had collected on the way out through the door.

“You remember that J’Zirlo is ex-Legion, no?” I said to Vilkas.

“I care not, my little Khajiit.” He said quietly so that only we two could hear him. “It is best that you do not stay, I’m sorry.”

Little? I bowed my head to the Nord, and turned it slightly to see Olfsson standing at the top of the stone steps, watching. The Dunmer that he’d been fighting stood with him, saying something. Olfsson saw me looking and nodded, just a small amount.

“Then Khajiit too is sorry for what is about to happen, my friend.”

Friend Vilkas snarled and swung the Steel Greatsword. I turned it away with the flat of my sword. Again and again, every attack was parried.

“Fight back, damn you!” Vilkas said.

A few more combinations of attacks turned without any trouble and Vilkas held a hand up to ask leave to pause for breath.

I shrugged. I looked up at the crowd, who were all talking amongst themselves. I saw the Dunmer say something to Kodlak Whitemane with a shake of his head. The Kodlak frowned and stepped forward.

“Master J’Zirlo,” he started, “It would seem that you’re holding back; my friend here assures me that you must have some skill. Please show it.”

Oh dear.

I bowed to Whitemane and apologised. Then I apologised to Vilkas and shrugged again; And launched an attack of my own. I believe he was unprepared to defend himself. So, when presently he was on his behind on the dressed stone of the yard, his Greatsword some way over towards the walls that surrounded the compound, I raised my eyebrow at him. Then put my arm out to help him stand. Vilkas snarled and pushed himself up, then he retrieved his Greatsword and we tried again. When this time, we were left with me holding his Greatsword in one hand, the tip at his throat, Whitemane laughed, clapped and declared that it was now Olfsson’s turn. I tossed the Greatsword up and caught the other end with one hand and passed it back to Vilkas. He seemed disturbed by this.

I looked up to Olfsson and lip read as he said, “Thing is, I’m better than him.”

Khajiit will allow this to be true. There are few that are better than Olfsson. Fortunately all that are, are on our side.

Anyways, Whitemane and the Dunmer looked shocked. Olfsson then said something Khajiit could not work out. The Kodlak nodded and the Dunmer disappeared, only to return with Olfsson’s sword from in the mead hall. Olfsson nodded his thanks and drew his blade. The brother to the one I carried.

The Dark Elf’s eyes widened and begged leave to examine said sword, which Olfsson allowed. Whitemane frowned, shook his head and then looked left, up a hill that ran from the courtyard to something I could not see properly from where we stood. A giant wall of un-worked rock, taller than a Whiterun house, stood between me and whatever the pathway that curved around the side and up the hill, led to.

Presently, Olfsson walked down the steps and grinned at me; I grinned back and hefted my sword, bouncing its weight as I waited with a degree of excitement. We knew each other’s moves, and I could tell Olfsson was in a mischievous mood.

“Vilkas! Come!” Whitemane smiled and gestured.

The Nord looked confused.

“Vilkas,” the Kodlak sighed, “they are beyond you.”

There was a murmur from the watchers as they looked at each other. One, a short, square-ish man with little hair, but many scars, stared at me. Khajiit will admit, we were made uncomfortable by this...There was a desire to...Flee. It was only later that I understood why, but for now, we just looked away and I shook my head to clear it.

I looked at Olfsson and smiled; he looked back, and grinned.

Swords were levelled. Arms were lifted for balance.

We moved.

Posted by: Acadian Apr 17 2012, 12:41 AM

This was most enjoyable to read. Some nice insight into J’Lo that was quite naturally presented. He is a very likeable combination of humility and awesomeness – just a wonderful character!

Posted by: Athynae Apr 17 2012, 12:10 PM

I second Acadian's comment absolutely.

Posted by: McBadgere Apr 18 2012, 01:36 PM

Thankee both so much...There's usually so much in the KOTN ones that this genuinely is fun for me... ...


Newness!!....



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





We started with the obvious – Khajiit drives Olfsson backward for a brief while, Nord counters Khajiit for a time; Getting ever and ever faster.

That was the point when we both called upon our speed fortify.

To each other, our spells cancelling the other’s out, there was no change to our sparring. Our swords to the watchers seemed blurred, the noise of their clashing almost painful, it appeared. Several of the Companions put their hands to their ears. The eyes of our audience widened and there were several “Ooohs” as we came very close to the point of showing off.

Then like a tap on my shoulder, a feeling came to me. I twirled around, intending to carry on into an ever more elaborate sequence to our dance, only to catch - as I spun – sight of the Kodlak, his eyes shining with magicks.

What on Nirn?!

Oh Mother. We were about to give the game away. Caerellin would be...Disappointed.

Olfsson had obviously not been keeping up and he tried to counter the move he thought we were making. Sadly, Khajiit had changed his mind moments earlier, and the exhibition stopped with my sword under Olfsson’s chin. Olfsson frowned, with a look that asked a very good question, however if voiced it would probably have been accompanied by several curses, loudly.

I winked at him and narrowed my eyebrows in what we hoped was a “Trust me.” way.

The crowd erupted into applause; all except for Vilkas - who stormed back into Jorrvaskr - and the one who had given me pause earlier. He stood, stared at us both and slowly walked around the side of the building towards Whiterun.

Had we done too much? Was our game given away already? Should we call the whole thing off now?

Any decision we could make would have to wait. Suddenly we found ourselves surrounded by the other Companions, asking questions, shaking hands, giving names.

Rather predictably, Olfsson managed to turn all the attention on himself, and over the top of his band of admirers, he winked and walked his way towards the Companions’ longhouse.

I was left alone in the courtyard with Whitemane, friend Farkas and a young Imperial woman, who was sat on a chair, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees and holding one hand in the other. We noticed she was staring emptily at the floor.

I asked Farkas as to her name, “She’s called Ria,” he answered, “she’s a good girl. Works hard.” He frowned and shook his head. “Aw heck...That’s all I know about her really.” He actually looked slightly ashamed. “I’ll go talk to her, she looks sad.”

“Don’t worry about Ria, Farkas. I will attend to her. Master J’Zirlo, it would be safe to say we can take both you and your friend Wolfshead. So long as you see to all duties required of you, during your tenure here, there may be the help I suspect you are seeking.”

Farkas frowned in confusion.

I frowned at the foolishness that I had goaded Olfsson into as the fight went on.

The Kodlak knew.

“Anyway, your first duty for me is to acquaint yourself with our blacksmith, Eorlund Grey-Mane. He is up at the end of that path yonder.”

“I’ll take him if you like?” said Farkas.

Whitemane nodded. “Very well. Fear not young Khajiit.” The Kodlak winked and walked off. I watched as he crouched down, took hold of this Ria’s hands and led her back up to the longhouse.

“What the hells was that all about? What help do you need?”

We sighed. “Only training in my deficiencies my friend! Come, let us find this ‘smith and see what we can teach him.” I smiled outwardly, my insides squirming.

“Uh-huh. Suuure.” Said an unconvinced Farkas. “Come on then, it’s this way.”



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

Posted by: Grits Apr 18 2012, 11:22 PM

Everyone filed out of Jorrvaskr after us, to watch Vilkas’ testings. A sentence I hope to never have to read again.

Perhaps just once more.

Such fun, I love it!!

Posted by: Acadian Apr 19 2012, 12:13 AM

A fortify speed spell, the blurred clatter of katanas and now J’Lo and Olfie are Companions! Nicely written and great fun to read. Whitemane and now Gray-Mane. Must mean they are getting closer to Graybeards? I’m imagining that we haven’t seen the last of Ria?

Posted by: Athynae Apr 19 2012, 12:46 AM

Oopsie...fun has a way sometimes of catching us, especially if we aren't playing fair...

I did like this one, J'Z and Olfsson are quite the complement to each other, good stuff.

More still...

Posted by: Darkness Eternal Apr 19 2012, 01:09 AM

I had some catching up to do. I'll admit, I just had to come here and read it. Anything revolving around the Companions, or more specifically, The Circle, deserves my personal attention! ALthough I am confident your anti-Lycanthropy and pro-human, but to the story, shall we?

First Chapter:

"Khajiit are not ones for journal writing. We find it tiresome. Actions speak louder than words and assorted cliches. And I know of at least one officious clerk that will attest to the pen absolutely failing to be mightier than the sword."

I can picture the Khajiit accent in my head as I read this. They have a memorable accent! Haha. Although I did imagine that Nords were not ones for writing much, since "actions speak louder than words". But I guess the talking felines fit the bill too!

"Several people were fighting - with less than brilliant success - a Giant. Lest we tip our hand, we both slowed to normal speed and ran towards the battle."

As soon as I read "Giant", I already knew whom you were talking about. The first meeting with these several people! Brings back memories of being level 1 in Skyrim. Overall, good chapter and very good intro, with likeable characters!

Second Chapter: Short update, but still, better than nothing. I loved the whole "Oh, this is not a khajiit, he's just a victim of some arcane magic gone wrong" scenario. Very funny, haha. Farengar is a smart-boat jerk though, I hate that guy -_-

Third Chapter:

"Legion. Not so much a Legionnaire as a Leggies-out as they say in the Imperial Legion. I mean really, you escape to Skyrim, the coldest country in Tamriel and you design a uniform that is essentially, a dress? What damned fool thought that was a good idea? One decently placed frost trap and...Well...Snow balls anyone? Oh, I know, I’ll go running uphill and down dale in my dress, oh damn, my legs have snapped from the cold.

Idiot. At least the old Imperial Legion uniform had fur lining. And the proper number of pieces to it. Bare legs. Idiocy."

Hey, hey, hey! Be nice! At least their name isn't "The Stormcloaks". Sounds like name from a group of baddies from the Fridas morning cartoon.

“What is...Snoop?”
A dog?

Fifth Chapter:Enter Danica, one of the nicest ladies in Whiterun. And did I catch a little semi-flirt between Farkas and Danica? Nice chapter. I laughed at a user's comment about a leg being lifted up, haha. Good progress so far.

And Cr@p is censored? What the H3LL?

The fight between Vilkas and J'Zirlo was great! I love the effort you put into it. But you are missing something in this story! Aela the Huntress and Skjor! Best Companions out there! Get to it, dude! Get to it!

Posted by: King Coin Apr 20 2012, 12:50 AM

Ah, poor Vilkas. He’s not going to like the little khajiit very from here on out. Maybe a few mugs of ale will smooth things over, if little khajiit decides he cares.

Posted by: McBadgere Apr 21 2012, 06:49 AM

Thankee all... ...

Acadian...Indeed, Ria will turn up again...

DE...Cheers for all that...Much appreciated...Yes, of course Skjor and Aela will turn up...But they have more to do with the off-screen Olfsson than J'Zirlo...Except for the major sections of course...

Everyone else...

Many many cheerses!!...Or cheeses...Nah, cheerses!!... ...



NOTE!!...Due to a problem with the idea of an older dude working up on a completely exposed plateau whilst wearing not much, the top of the hill where the Skyforge is will now have some supply store/break huts...And the forge itself will be more covered...

Oh, and I changed the Gray-Mane to Grey...Only a small thing, but we tend to spell it Grey here and that's how this boy rolls...You dig?... ...Yes, Gray is his name...But I'm Multiversing...So...Y'know?... ...




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




We had been here just over an hour and already, not only had we given the game away, but we had – seemingly – accomplished our mission.

In a sense.

Due to repeated mistakes by myself, Kodlak Whitemane had seen us for what we were, Knights of The Nine. And although he had given a veiled yes to an unasked-in-any-way question, which was, by no means, an easy thing to do, it would seem that the help would come at the price of Olfsson and I working for the Companions for a while.

No matter, we had been committed to being here for however long it was to have taken to get said already-almost-said yes, that it had already come was simply a confusing wrinkle to the plan.

Perhaps we could get to know the help a little better.

I realised that friend Farkas had been talking as we walked the slowly climbing and turning path.

“...Don’t mind Skjor,” Oh yes, the man we had seen leaving, a few minutes before, “he’s just a bit intense, y’know? Him and the Kodlak go way back. He’s older than he looks.”

“By the twin moons! Is that possible?” I asked.

Farkas laughed, “Hah! Yeah, good one!...He’s a proper Companion hero though, a true Nord...Was never cruel to Vilkas and me when we were growing up here. So don’t mind the gruff hardman bit of him, Skjor only wants things done right.”

We reached a set of stone steps and that was the point when I looked up. Beyond the top of the stairs, on the left, atop the plateau behind Jorrvaskr, a giant stone eagle had been carved out of the rock. It appeared to be about to take flight; its wings as if unfurling, it’s body leaning forwards, like in those first moments before the mighty wings then beat to ascend. It was lit from below by the glow of the mighty forge beneath, any smoke that was caught under the eaves of the roof that covered the eagle and forge, simply wafted out through the open sides.

I couldn’t take my eyes of the statue as I walked up the steps to the plateau.

For a short while, we had heard the banging of the ‘smith’s hammer, and it was now, at the top of the stairs that I got my first look at the arm behind the swing. It was muscular. Very muscular. Said arm was attached to a man possessed of a mass of hair that was as suited to his name as Whitemane’s.

Eorlund Grey-Mane was a man headed towards old age, but it was obvious he was not going without a fight. His massive barrel chest and well muscled shoulders told of a man with a lifetime’s worth of blacksmithing under his belt. Well, between his belt and rock-hard abdomen at any rate! His stout legs, a testament to the miles spent walking back and to, either between his ‘smithing stations, or from forge to supply sheds and back with all manner of components, metals and what have you; from Leather, Iron and Steel to Glass and Ebony.

Currently, he appeared to be finishing off a steel shield.

As we walked forward from the top step, his head turned quickly to watch us, the hammer paused atop the shield.

I could see his appraising me, my armour and scabbard with the sword hilt atop it.

“Gods be praised! A Khajiit in the city!” he shook his head, seemingly in wonderment. Loosing the hammer, Grey-Mane walked towards me with hand outstretched. “I declared the Idiot’s Empire to have all the idiocies in the universe, the day they banned Khajiit from the cities. Their own Legion were bigger thieves than I’ve ever seen a Khajiit to be!” he said with a grin.

“I thank you!” I said with genuine surprise and warmth, bowing my head in gratitude.

“No need to thank me, lad, it’s the truth!”

I had great affection for this man from that moment on.

“Farkas, my lad!” Grey-Mane said with a smile and patted the other Nord on his steel armoured shoulder. There was the slightest tightening around the eyes, as if friend Farkas was hiding how much the pat had actually hurt.

“Your lad?” I asked.

Farkas shook his head.

“Hah! No-no,” Grey-Mane began, still smiling, “I cannot claim praise for such a good lad, no. Mine are...Well, one of mine is...” the smile faltered, “Ach, it’s complicated. Anyway,” the smile returned, although not around the eyes, “you wouldn’t be here with Farkas if Whitemane hadn’t sent you. I take it you’re one of them now then?”

“One of them?” I asked. “Are you not a Companion too?”

The ‘smith shook his head, “No lad, I’m Master of the Skyforge here, not a true Companion. I don’t go in for all that tales-of-daring-do stuff. Besides not being one proper suits me,” a mischievous look came to his eyes, “Whitemane has to ask for stuff instead of ordering.” He winked. “Besides, as the finding of the Skyforge here was the reason the Companions chose to stay right there,” he pointed over the edge of the plateau, “It stands to reason that the one in charge here, should actually be above and beyond them, no?” Grey-Mane smiled, and I sensed an age old half-joke being played out here.

We were interrupted by the arrival of Olfsson. Grey-Mane frowned and I quickly introduced my friend. The ‘smith replied with an “Uhh”, a nod and a shake of hand.

“The Kodlak wants you.” Olfsson said to friend Farkas.

Farkas looked to the old Nord with a question, and the ‘smith replied with a frowning nod and a waving away gesture.

“Well, see you later then.” Farkas said to both Olfsson and I.

“Indeed you will my friend. Thank you Farkas.” I bowed my head.

He shook hands with Olfsson, nodded to Grey-Mane and myself, and then walked quickly down the steps back to Jorrvaskr.



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

Posted by: Acadian Apr 22 2012, 12:39 AM

This was delightful, from the eagle ready to take flight to the kitty-loving giant smith! What a wonderful picture you painted of him for us. I like the Gray-Mane already and can see why J’Lo does as well. I’ll bet friends Aravi, Kharjo and Maxical like him too! Clever logic on his part for not joining the Companions.

Posted by: King Coin Apr 22 2012, 02:39 PM

Heh, I was a little worried about how a storm cloak sympathizer would accept a Khajiit in the city.

Posted by: Grits Apr 22 2012, 09:15 PM

“By the twin moons! Is that possible?” I asked.

Love J’Zirlo!!

And I’m delighted by your Eorlund Grey-Mane. Lots to enjoy in the interactions between him and Farkas. And the Skyforge has to be one of the best spots on Nirn. Yay!

Posted by: McBadgere Apr 29 2012, 07:07 AM

Acadian, KC and Grits...So many thanks...Muchly appreciated...*Bows*... ...

To continue...



The air on the top of the plateau had suddenly become decidedly cold. I feared that this had nothing to do with the cloud that had at that moment, decided to cover the sun, and more to do with what I had done to make Grey-Mane’s jaw hang down, and Olfsson to be running a hand down his face saying “Oh brother.”

I blinked twice.

“What, by Ysmir’s great balls, was that?” the ‘smith asked.

I may have answered with an “Um.” and a pleading look at Olfsson, who – most helpfully I thought...Not – shrugged exaggeratedly.

In a burst of the most eloquent show of defensive arguments, I answered forth – “Um.” once more.

After blinking again, I decided to look at my hands. They held a repair hammer in one, and the steel shield that Eorlund had been working on when we’d arrived earlier, in the other.

“Oh.” I said helpfully. Followed quickly by what was rapidly becoming my most used word – “Um.”

Eorlund Grey-Mane walked quickly towards me and grabbed the hammer from my hand; the shield he took by the edge and threw it backhand at Olfsson, who caught it easily with one hand.

“Uh.” said Grey-Mane, with a nod.

“You,” he said to Olfsson, with an added pointing motion, “Make yourself useful and take that to Aela, I’m sure you’ve noticed her by now. The red-head?”

Olfsson simply stood there with his head turned slightly, a question directed at Grey-Mane in his expression.

“Oh, don’t worry, what am I going to do?”

Olfsson looked to me.

I sighed, nodded and looked into the forge’s fire.

I had done it again it seemed. I was absolutely useless.

I heard Olfsson leave and my shoulders slumped. I sighed, as now I was alone and faced the worst challenge so far.

Eorlund Grey-Mane was turning his repair hammer around, inspecting it.

“This is brand new.” He said, “It shouldn’t be, it was headed towards the end of its usefulness. Perhaps like I may be, if you’re going to be staying around. But now, it’s all shiny and new. How?”

I sighed again, and looked about. I willed the life-detect magicks alive, in case we were being listened upon. Sensing nothing, I turned to Grey-Mane and told him everything.



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



Ah! But perhaps I should now tell the journal what had happened to bring us to this point? Perhaps this is a good idea, no?

Well...We were all talking pleasantly about blacksmithing, the effects of weather on this plateau, where “Wolfshead” and I were from originally.

Simple conversation.

Well, the two Nords got talking about something amongst themselves, something about Grey-Mane’s supply runs to Bruma when he was a lad, and, having only spent a brief time there, I wasn’t really able to offer much. So I started to look about the place more.

But there was the problem really, I was enjoying myself. It was such a nice thing, the company was excellent, we were relaxed – Olfsson and I – for the first time, really, since we had arrived in Skyrim. I felt it. It was obvious that Olfsson was enjoying the talk. The forge’s coals smelled wonderful, like no other forge I’d ever been in. I’d walked towards it, simply to stare in and take some breaths.

A strange feeling I should have recognised took hold of me.

I looked over at the workbench that Eorlund had been working at earlier and the world shifted. Everything I looked at, I could see the flaws in their build; the weaknesses; the defects. I knew instantly what was needed to improve them.

The shield sat on top was almost perfect, except for one flaw in it. A flaw that would otherwise have been unseeable. I walked over to the shield and picked it up, turning it over and over in my hands, peering closer at the flaw.

Thoughts in my brain raced. I saw the red-headed Nord from earlier, in battle, raising her shield to ward off a blow from an axe wielding bandit. I could see the shield shattering when the bandit struck at the weakness. I could see what happened when the next blow came.

From what Olfsson later told me, it would have been at that point I was asked what I was doing by Grey-Mane. I had turned my head to them with eyes brightly ablaze with magic; then I had simply turned my attention back to the shield.

I looked at the flaw, lines spreading out from it, like cracks in ice. I looked at the old and worn repair hammer and picked it up. Instantly it became a thick shafted lump-hammer, the head of which was covered with ornate scroll-work around the edges – The Hammer of Zenithar. I put the head to the flaw and willed it correct.

Olfsson said it looked – and sounded – to be a hammer strike in reverse. One second the hammer was on the shield, then the air seemed to vibrate and hiss, there was the sound of a hammer strike and then the hammer jumped up into the air.

I had nodded to myself, as satisfied that I could be that I had done as much as even Zenithar could have.

And then the world returned.

And Ysmir’s balls were invoked.

As they do.



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



“’Tis a brave thing you’re attempting, lad” said Eorlund after I had given him my life – and those of my friends – into his hands. “There’s going to be a price to my silence though. I’m not above blackmail my young Khajiit.” He smiled with genuine amusement. “But don’t worry, when the time is right, I shall ask you and Olfsson to tea. And you will come. And I’m damned sure you’ll enjoy it too.”

He continued to turn the hammer over and over.

“That’s a neat trick you’ve got there for sure. Something like that would have saved me a fortune in hammers!

“Can you do that with anything? Or is it just hammers?” Grey-Mane asked.

“A dagger...A stick...Anything short.” I answered.

“Bet that makes going to the toilet a journey into the unknown then?!” He laughed once, then turned around and leaned his behind on the workbench. He smiled briefly in reflection, then said, “A great many years ago, when I was an apprenticed lad here, you know that Bosmer Fletcher on the main street, you seen him?..No?..Oh, well, you’ll want to. Anyways, I was sent out to the Knights’ fort down the valley,” he waved westwards, “Greymoor. I was sent to see their blacksmith, and I hitched a ride there with that Fletcher...Elrindir his name is, I think...Anyways, we got chatting about the problem with hammers breaking, and he told me a story of a Bosmer he’d once met, a Mage-knight or Mystic-Archer or something, really right up his street, you know what I mean? Anyways, apparently they could conjure a repair hammer! Imagine that! I just assumed he was pulling my leg.”

I laughed and nodded. Caerellin, J’Drell and General Oreyn could conjure as easily as breathing. However, as part of basic Knight training, we are all taught how to conjure a sword or hand axe, in case we are ever disarmed. I could do it, barely. And a sword is easy. It is relatively easy to make a destruct wave the length of a sword or axe-head.

To focus magicks into something as fine as the face of a repair hammer? and control the mass of the head behind it? They must have been incredibly powerful indeed. Especially if, as Grey-Mane then added, “Apparently, they could share it out for a short time too!”

I whistled and shook my head.

“I know, right?” Grey-Mane answered.

Searching for the right words to end the conversation with, I ran through every possible entry into my speech only for my mouth to utter – “Um...”

“Don’t worry yourself lad. It was a sad day when the Thalmor helped finally finish the Knights of The Nine off in Skyrim. Now all we’ve got to keep them occupied is that damnable Dinai and his idiot Stormcloaks one side and on the other, that bloody Madanach and his Forsworn thugs. So you lot coming back, finally...” he shrugged, “Brings joy. As it will to Whitemane. You should go see him now. I mean, right now.”

“Eorlund, my friend...Um...If you would allow J’Zirlo?” I added hopefully.

He smiled and nodded.

“My friend,” I bowed my head, “Khajiit is in your debt. Always.”

“Nah, not always,” his smile became wider, “just until you’ve done my favour. Get settled in first, then we’ll...Invite you and Olfsson over.”

I nodded, shook his hand, and headed back to the other person who could ruin me.



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

Posted by: Athynae Apr 29 2012, 01:35 PM

Ok smack me, yes I missed one...and a good one too!! Dangumit! But I am all caught up now...It's the boys fault I swear, and the girls, yes, her too...and the wiener mutt...You know what? Excuses are silly, how about I just say "I'm sorry" and let it go???

These were both wonderful pieces. The description of the eagle statue was quite a picture, I do love birds of prey!! I must have been a falconer in a previous life.

The forge and the Mane, I mean man, and the interaction between the Knights and him was nicely done, I like them all very much. I am anxious to see how all of this plays out...

Good stuff as ever!!! I do love it.

Posted by: Colonel Mustard Apr 29 2012, 08:58 PM

Hooray, update!

I liked the look at the magic you had in this with the hammers and bound weapons, and the gift of Julianos was nicely done.

Posted by: Grits Apr 29 2012, 11:04 PM

Oh the magic here is so fun to read and imagine! And Grey-Mane made me laugh. I’m pretty sure that Eorlund can keep a secret. Love this adventure!

Posted by: Acadian Apr 30 2012, 01:11 AM

’Ah! But perhaps I should now tell the journal what had happened to bring us to this point? Perhaps this is a good idea, no?’
Truer words were never spoken! Actually, starting this episode 'media res' allowed you to capture the imagination as I worked to sort out what was happening. Then you resolved it all for me in the second portion. I like it!

The description of the hammer and its use was magnificent. I loved how J’Lo could sense not only the fault in that shield but the fate of its user if the fault remained unrepaired. Wow!

Aww. . . I know exactly who that Bosmeri Mystic Archer was who could both summon and share a repair hammer!

Posted by: Darkness Eternal Apr 30 2012, 05:09 PM

Damn it, let me catch up.

By Shor's great balls, I love this line. I might use it one time. I've seen it twice in these forums now! Haha. The Elder Scrolls slang never stops amazing me. Well done.

Ah, enter Kodlak Whitemane! The Harbinger and Elder of the Circle and the Companions! I like Grey-Mane in this story, just how he truly is. You stayed true to his character! Always telling the new guy or gal to fetch something here and there. I know, I know, Sjor and Aela aren't the true stars of this tale, the honor goes to J'Zirlo and friends! . But it's cool to see them around.

Posted by: mALX Apr 30 2012, 10:16 PM

LOVED this intro into Jorrvaskr, this had me rolling !!!

Next chapter - This whole section had me in hysterics, especially this:

Posted by: McBadgere May 5 2012, 05:13 AM

Many many thanks to you all, I'm so glad you're all reading and enjoying...Always a good thing... ...Thank you...


But most espescially, a huge thank you to Acadian...As I knew there was going to be a magic repair hammer involved, and I've always thought that Buffy's conjoured repair hammer was such a cool idea, I sought - and received - permission for a subtle Buffy (reference) cameo in that last part...So, thank you very much Acadian, much appreciated...



A brief recap...J'Zirlo and Wulff Olfsson had been sent undercover to the Companions (a kind of Skyrim Fighters Guild) to try and get their help for the overarching Knights' mission in Skyrim. Sadly, in just over a couple of hours, at least two of the Compaions elders have found out their secret. Having confessed all to the Blacksmith - Eorlund Grey-Mane, J'Zirlo is now en-route to talking with the not-quite-leader-but-really-is-really of the Companions, Kodlak Whitemane.


Thank you...


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



I managed to reach Jorrvaskr without anyone new discovering that Olfsson and I were Knights of The Nine. Which seemed to be a feat worthy of congratulations in itself. Although, we will allow that this may only be because there was no one to be seen between the blackmith’s and the longhouse.

I paused by the doors, breathed deeply a few times to calm myself, and then walked in.

The smell of wood-smoke hit me as I entered the long room beneath the upturned longboat. Someone had obviously rebuilt the fire-pit in the middle of the room with fresh wood and coal. I followed a patch of smoke - as it belched forth - up to the roof and through a cut-away section of the hull, which had then been covered by a small raised roof structure, with large space for the smoke to get out of the sides. Presumably they were thinking they were unlikely to need the ship after so long then? And did it not get cold with a giant hole up there?

“Hey! I know who you are!” shouted a somewhat drunken voice.

Oh, for the sake of The Nine!

“Yeah, you’re my new best drinking buddy.” said an approaching Nord. The one I remembered as being called Torvar; Tall and bearded man, seemingly in a perpetual haze of something. He reached me and grabbed me in a ferocious bear-hug. “Aaahhhh, there it is.” He said. “Where you headed buddy? Come grab a tankard, we’ll talk shop.”

“Shop? You have a shop too?”

“HAAA!” he grinned. “Good lad. Nah, me and Athis,” The Dunmer from earlier, “were discussing your fight with Wolfshead.”

Talking of which. “Ah yes, indeed...Where is Wolfshead, by the way?”

“Er...I think he went off with Aela and Skjor.”

“Skjor?”

“Yeah, you know?...Small chap?...Always looks like he’s thinking of the best way to bite your head off?”

“Oh yes, I remember. That was what Farkas called him.” I said and Torvar nodded with a grin. I then said, “Well, my...Buddy, please will you forgive Khajiit, he has to see the Kodlak.” and I bowed my head.

“Fair enough. Fair enough.” He said, raised his tankard in salute, then turned and walked away. He said over his shoulder. “Come find me and we’ll see who would win in a drink-off, Nord versus Khajiit. Oh yeah.”

“Well, he likes you.” Said a voice at my shoulder. I believe I lost another one of my supposed nine lives at that point.

“Aaaah!...Friend Farkas! Yes...So it seems. Um, we are on our way to see the Kodlak...Though I have to ask...Which way is it?”

Farkas looked at me for a brief while with his head tilted to one side, frowning. “Well, friend, I’ll show you. But at some point soon, we will talk. Come on.”

Friend Farkas walked off to the left and presently, I followed him.

We had just passed the end of the long tables when there was a thundering of feet along said tables and a “Kcheeeyaaaah!”

I spun around, only to find myself landed on by a rather fast travelling Nord woman. I then found myself pinned down on my back, with her astride my chest, her strong arms holding mine down on the floor. We could have gotten up, we suppose, but...Well...We will allow that it wasn’t exactly an unpleasant sensation, put it that way. As it were...

Nadja of the colourful curse bent down and said in my ear, “I don’t normally do this sort of thing, I usually just ignore the new blood...But you and Wolfshead, you’re different, you make me want to...” and then she listed the many and varied things that we had made her want to do...In detail...Not all of which I believed were possible...Then she sat back in a place that perhaps we would not have wanted her to - in public at least - and then finished her taunting by grabbing my hands and placing them around her waist. Then she stood up and walked so she was stood almost directly above my head, she said, “Remember, Whiterun girls like it a bit Plain, but Markath girls like it deeper.” and walked off over my head.

I still have no idea what she meant.

Farkas chuckled and dropped an arm so as to help me up.

“Wow...Smooth moves lover-boy.”

“Um.” I countered expertly.

“Ha-ha.” Farkas smiled and walked off, “Come on. It’s down these stairs.”



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



We descended the stairs and went through the doorway at the bottom into a stone built, barrel vault. It travelled for some distance down to a set of large doors, which at this point, were open. Beyond those we could see another, smaller set of doors beyond a small-ish hallway.

It appeared that where we stood was a common room of some sort. There were tables and chairs to each side, along the length of the room. To our immediate left there were a few comfortable cushioned chairs and sofas, along with a few bookcases. On the opposite wall was the door to a bunk room.

“Oh yeah,” Farkas said, following my gaze, “I put your pack in there when I showed Wolfshead around earlier. Come, I’ll show you.”

As I followed him into the bunk room containing a goodly amount of beds, I said to friend Farkas, “Our new...Um...Buddy, Torvar said he went off with Aela and Skjor. Any idea as to where?”

“Not exactly, no. Probably it’s taking on a Bandit Chief somewhere, but if Kodlak sent those three off together, I’m pretty sure it was for a reason.”

“Ah, nevermind, Wolfshead is a big boy now, we are sure he will keep himself in the amount of trouble he has been accustomed to.”

Farkas smiled. “With those two? I wouldn’t worry about his getting bored any time soon.”

I realised there was a presence at my elbow. I looked down into the eyes of an old woman. Eyes which flashed brightly with mischief.

“Hello new boy,” she said merrily. “I’m Tilma. They,” she said pointing to Farkas, “call me Tilma the Haggard...And yet expect me to pick up their cr@p covered armour every time they come back...Hmmm?” she winked at me as Farkas looked away embarrassedly. “Now, they don’t think I listen, but I do, so if you need to know some dirt on anyone, I’ve got it...For a price of course.” She smiled a wicked smile that we suspected had broken many hearts, a few moons ago, granted. “I’m looking forward to finding out your secrets...” Tilma trailed off with a question in her expression.

“J’Zirlo. J’Zirlo of New Kvatch.”

“Oooh, long ways from home aren’t you Kitty? Nevermind, we’ll keep you warm at night.” She said and patted my behind.

What was it with these Nords?

Tilma winked at me and then walked off, back to whatever duties she had.

“Wow, you’re good.” Farkas remarked and chuckled some more for good measure. “Come on, he’s down here.”

We walked towards the opened doors at the end of the room.



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

Posted by: King Coin May 5 2012, 05:15 AM

Ok I was really confused at the beginning. Looking back didn’t help. Going forward did luckily. Whew.

The Khajiit is a magical master smith? Cool.

Wait, was that a mention of Buffy?

EDIT: Damnit you updated. Er, I mean yeah!


J’Zirlo is absolutely terrible at keeping secrets. Who sent him? I can imagine the thought process: “He’s a Khajiit. They’re sneaky right? Send him.”

Ugh… that woman. Tilma. Creepy old lady. She might have been the reason my Khajiit Aravi never actually spent a night in Jorrvaskr and instead rented from the Bannered Mare until she bought a home of her own.

Posted by: McBadgere May 5 2012, 05:19 AM

Hah!!... ...

Sorry mate... ...

Cheers...

Posted by: mALX May 5 2012, 01:46 PM

I don't know when I've laughed so hard - loved this chapter from beginning to end! J'Zirlo in the Companions is going to keep me in stitches !!! Awesome Write !!!

Posted by: Grits May 5 2012, 09:51 PM

I managed to reach Jorrvaskr without anyone new discovering that Olfsson and I were Knights of The Nine.

Not bad, since it’s nearly a full minute’s walk. Ah, J’Zirlo.

Oh my, the ladies of Jorrvaskr are all over Khajiit! Maybe they’ve been reading The Real Barenziah, Daggerfall Edition. I love it!

Posted by: Colonel Mustard May 5 2012, 10:24 PM

Posted by: Acadian May 6 2012, 12:07 AM

Loved the tongue-in-cheek as J’Lo was proud that he hadn’t spilled any more beans because there was no one in sight to spill them to.

Poor J’Lo. First he gets his chest sat upon, then gets his rump patted. I agree that his response was as expert as he professed: “Um.”

Seriously, this was a delightful episode to read! Great work.

Posted by: McBadgere May 20 2012, 04:55 PM

Thankee all... ...I love this story meself, very much a light relief from t'other one... ...

Where we were, J'Zirlo was being taken to see Kodlak Whitemane by Farkas...



“Well, my room’s that way and Vilkas’ is opposite,” said friend Farkas, pointing to the right “and that side is Aela and Skjor.” He indicated left. “We get the posh rooms because we’re top dogs around here...Um...I mean, we’re the top...Uh...ones around here. The Circle we call it. Ah, I’m sure you’ll see...Just...Don’t be in any great hurry to join us...I’m pretty sure that’s why Vilkas is so pissed at you.”

I believe that was the most Farkas had said in one go, the entire time we had been talking all afternoon.

“What do you mean my friend? I’m afraid it may be an unfortunate consequence of our previous work that we wind up being counted amongst you Circular types.”

“Don’t worry,” he tilted his head and a smirk played at the corner of his mouth, “I’m sure you’ll find everything out eventually.”

“Oh.” I said.

We approached the next set of doors. We could hear a pair of voices, raised in argument - Whitemane and Vilkas it sounded like.

Farkas was about to knock the door when I reached and held his forearm before he could contact. I augmented my hearing so as to hear the words inside.

“What do you mean you’re absolutely sure we can trust them? You’ve barely spoken to them since they arrived, and now one of them is off with Aela and Skjor, Gods only know where?”

“Why is it you all of a sudden think you can question my decisions Vilkas? Would you like me to show you why it is I’m still, after all this time, the one at the head of this merry band?”

“You know exactly why it is that I’m determined that you not to let anyone else in until all...This is taken care of.”

I heard Whitemane sigh, “Yes, Vilkas I know. But please, you’ve followed my guidance this far, why not simply take it as...A sign from the Divines...I am absolutely certain that with these two newcomers, we have the greatest chance of any that have tried, to remove this abomination, since it was so graciously bestowed upon us.”

Abomination? What was this about? Farkas seemed to be able to hear well enough and seemed to be refusing to meet my eye.

“How can you possibly have so much faith in two strangers?” Vilkas continued, “A fool and a Khajiit at that?”

“My dear Vilkas, Faith has everything to do with it. And I wouldn’t be so quick to brand Wolfshead as fool just yet.”

“I believe no good will come of this.”

“Well I believe the Divines have finally answered this old fool’s prayers to be able to restore The Companions to the ideals that Ysgramor himself aspired to.”

I felt a tightening of the throat. Whatever was needed, I would not let this man down - as if he was one of my own brothers. And I mean fellow Knights of course, J’Zargo can go tickle a bear’s underparts and see what happens for all I care.

I jest.

No, really.

There was a pause in the argument and then Whitemane said, “Are you done questioning my authority?”

“Not quite, as we have seen, you’ve seem to have been letting anyone join us lately...Is there a plan or have you simply given up? Torvar is drunk almost all the time; Athis is lazy; Nadja is perpetually either angry or horny; Ria...Gods only know with Ria...What exactly does she do?”

“Your point?”

“They are nothing and nobodies, they-”

A split second’s warning was all I had to move Farkas out of the way as the doors splintered. Vilkas passed us and skidded a ways along the carpet on his armoured back.

“Whoa there Kitty!” Farkas said, “You move that fast with the ladies? No wonder they love you.”

Whitemane walked past us and stood at Vilkas’ feet.

“You want to challenge me? Go right ahead. But you talk mighty snobbish for the child of a Necromancer cult,” I heard Farkas inhale sharply. Whitemane continued, “Now piss off and get drunk you officious, stuck-up, entitled wanker. Go pick a fight with someone else or I’ll wipe the floor with you.”

Vilkas’ eyes were wide and he backed up on his hands, turned as quickly as he could and made for the doors out.

Without turning around Whitemane said, “I profoundly apologise to you Farkas. You know I love you both as my own sons. I’m sorry.”

“No need, he is a stuck-up wanker.”

Whitemane laughed once. “You wish to see me master J’Zirlo.” It was not a question. “You will have to excuse us dear Farkas. I appear to have no door. Give us some time and then have a couple of the others come and help make a new one. Should keep them out of mischief for a time.”

“Aye, will do.”

Whitemane nodded and Farkas left.

The Kodlak extended a hand towards his office and we went inside.



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

Posted by: mALX May 20 2012, 06:03 PM

Posted by: Colonel Mustard May 20 2012, 08:08 PM

It's good, but there was, perhaps, a bit of overuse on the emphasis in the speech there, which rather perversely had the effect of lessening the emphasis you wanted. Don't get me wrong, the rest of the chapter was great (the interaction between Vilkas and Kodlak was brilliant) but it might be a good idea to go through and rub out some of those underlines.

Otherwise, spiffing stuff.

Posted by: McBadgere May 20 2012, 10:12 PM

Thankee mALX... ...Much appreciated...

Thank you mein Colonel... ...Editing done...Better m'friend?... ...

Posted by: Acadian May 21 2012, 01:41 AM

’J’Zargo can go tickle a bear’s underparts and see what happens for all I care.’
This is just cute as a button!

Never Rimming the Sky myself, I’m guessing the path ahead involves Whitemane being relieved by the appearance of some Knights of the Nine to help him rid the Companions of their wolfish ways? Methinks J’Lo be just the cat to do it? Or not. No, really.

So Whitemane does indeed show why he be the boss and the other fellow just a wanker. Loved the splintering door.

Quite a precursor to J’Lo’s meeting with Whitemane.

Posted by: Athynae May 21 2012, 12:00 PM

Hehe, I do like a good go 'round, especially when some blown up wanker gets taught a lesson. Sounds like there is a bit of conflict over the Knights arrival but it will be handled by the 'top dogs' in short order. Speaking of dogs wasn't that one of them that scurried out the door on his all fours????

Great stuff yet again McB, when do we get more? Of either, I like them both equally.

Posted by: Saquira May 21 2012, 03:11 PM

This is great! Loved it when Kodlak threw Vilkas through the door It shows how much he cares about his fellow companions, and that he isn't quite as old as he looks. And Farkas comment when J'Zirlo pulled him out of the way was hilarious The only thing I think was not so good was how much you underlined in the last piece. It kind of pulled my attention from the story a bit. But otherwise, good job!

And I'll be following this story.

Posted by: Grits May 21 2012, 07:47 PM

I love it when Farkas tries to talk.

“How can you possibly have so much faith in two strangers?” Vilkas continued, “A fool and a Khajiit at that?”

What?! After that it was pure fun to see Vilkas slide along the floor. It seems that Farkas and J’Z have the same opinion of their brothers!

Posted by: Darkness Eternal May 24 2012, 04:20 AM

When you mentioned secrets being revealed, I thought the wolf was out of the bag. But you proved otherwise, you sly Badger you!

"Yeah, you know?...Small chap?...Always looks like he’s thinking of the best way to bite your head off?”
Sure sounds like Skjor. The angry beastie-baldie.

"They call me Tilma the Haggard...And yet expect me to pick up their cr@p covered armour every time they come back...Hmmm?”
Are you kidding me? C.R.A.P is censored? Bummer. Anyways, scary old woman. I would raise an eyebrow and tell her to kindly go away.

"We get the posh rooms because we’re top dogs around here...Um...I mean, we’re the top...Uh...ones around here"
Tongue slip ftw! Cat has to get his tongue(sorry for the lame puns, but I just had to). This is not good for the Circular types. If they keep up with their nightly howling, their nasty wet-dog smelling selves and untriimmed ears, they might just as well strip nude and transform

"Now piss off and get drunk you officious, stuck-up, entitled wanker. Go pick a fight with someone else or I’ll wipe the floor with you.”

http://i0.kym-cdn.com/photos/images/newsfeed/000/200/420/BRTky.jpg?1321408042

Posted by: King Coin May 27 2012, 10:41 PM

Haha, top dogs.

A fool and a Khajiit at that?
For a second I thought both fool and Khajiit were referring to the same person. Lol.

Not very fond of J’Zargo is he. Lol.