Old Habits Die Hard, Can an old dog learn new tricks? Options

[mALX]

I like Julian's inner dialogue. She doesn't chatter to herself, but she is thinking constantly - another great chapter !!!!

[minque]

Hautie! This is amazing! Julian really is one of a kind....love it, just love it!

Everyone makes so extensive comments and as I agree with most of it, I'll jusrt say....


S.G.M

[haute ecole rider]

@Olen: Ahh, the smell of sun on lichen - I wanted to capture the hot sun on this late summer's day, and the feel of a city sweltering in the last gasp of the dog days. According to my story calendar, it's 6 Hearthfire. Around here, we often get one last hot day or two in the week after Labor Day weekend (the first weekend in September for those who don't live in the US). I figured describing it that way would evoke that same feeling for others. I've never read Pratchett, to my dying chagrin, but my Dad always pronounced it as rhoomatik. Oh, and heeeeere's Baurus!

@SubRosa: Do you have the same graphic novel I do? I think of it sometimes, but no, nothing to do with the Watchmen. I've heard the same thing about Luther, too!

@Destri: Actually, Julian never made it across the Great Bridge until she was arrested in Weye. At that time, she was too out of it to remember more than a mishmash of impressions. So, this was actually her first time in the Imperial City under her own volition.

@mALX: Thanks for the compliment. Yes, Julian is a thinker, but she's no chatterbox.

@minque: Getting a S.G.M. from you is quite the honor! I do hope you'll write more Serene - she's an amazing character and I have enjoyed reading her story. In response to your comment on another thread, please don't be shy about your writing. I really enjoy how Serene gets put through the wringer and manages to hang on to her best qualities and only grows stronger.

Things start to pick up again, as Julian finds her first friend in her new life. And yes, there is a broad in Luther’s.

******************
Chapter 7.2 Finding Baurus

Within the warm interior, I paused to look around. The large common room contained comfortable chairs and benches around tables of varying sizes, most of them occupied by small groups of patrons. Animated conversations, punctuated by laughter, added to the cheerful atmosphere. The bar, set in the back next to a flight of stone stairs headed up to a second floor, had few open stools, the rest taken up by patrons in varying stages of inebriation.

My gaze lingered on a dour Breton man seated by himself in the rear corner opposite the bar, reading a book. He stood out like a minotaur in a crockery shop. I eyed the other patrons again. A few Redguards were sprinkled through the gathering, all in nondescript street clothes. How would I know Baurus? I’ve never seen him out of armor, without his helm.

A buxom serving-lass, cleavage emphasized by a tight-laced bodice, wove her way between the tables. She paused to empty her tray of ale-glasses with a group of three men, and stopped before me. A winsome smile on her rosy lips belied the canny eye she cast at me. “Table or bar?” she asked, pitching her voice to be heard over the constant cacophony.

Glancing at the bar again, I spotted an empty seat next to a burly Redguard. I couldn’t be certain, but I thought I saw the glimmer of a katana at the man’s left hip. “Bar, I think,” I said to her. The wench pouted.

“Luther’ll take care of you, then,” she said, waving for me to seat myself. I almost apologized to her, but bit my lip. She’s earning enough tips from these patrons.

A stout Imperial man regarded me with brown eyes beneath white arched brows as I set my shield down against the bar and perched on the stool. Grey hair in a fringe above his ears emphasized the egg shape of his head. He set the glass he was wiping down. “What’d ya have, ma’am?”

My stomach emphatically reminded me that I had not had anything to eat, other than a few slices of waybread in the saddle, since breakfast that morning at Cloud Ruler Temple. My dry throat insisted on satisfaction before permitting the thought of eating. “I’ll have water, sir,” I said. “For now.”

One brow climbed into his forehead as Luther Broad regarded me sardonically. “How would you like that, ma’am?” he remarked. “On the rocks, with a brandy chaser, or a twist of lime? How about an infusion of ginger?” Some of the barbirds stopped their conversation long enough to listen. “Oh, wait, let me guess,” Broad held up a finger, “a couple of drops of citrus oil, with a garnish of mint?”

Aware of the growing attention on me, I held the Imperial’s gaze steadily. “How’s your well, sir?”

His eyes narrowed at me.”Spring-fed, and clean, ma’am.”

“Then that’s how I’ll take it, sir,” I countered. Chuckles rippled up and down the bar as the barkeep grinned at me. He picked up a clean glass and headed to the back bar, where the brass water tap gleamed against the dark wood. As the customers on my right returned to their chatter, I glanced at the Redguard on my left. Baurus?

“I wonder if the food here is any good, sir,” I remarked to him as the barkeep returned with my glass, full of clear liquid.

“If you like it plain and hearty, yes,” Baurus’s voice responded. The Redguard took a sip of his ale reflectively. “If your tastes run to candied plums and spiced roast Niben boar, you’re crap out of luck, ma’am.” The barkeep, catching his comment, chuckled.

“As long as it has more flavor than Legion polenta, I’d be happy,” I countered, meeting the Imperial’s gaze.

“Listen,” Baurus leaned slightly to me, lowering his voice, “I’m going to get up and walk out of here in a minute. Notice that Breton in the back corner by himself when you came in?” I nodded. “He’s going to follow me. You follow him.”

With a quick glance at the barkeep, who watched us with a somber expression, I took a sip of my water. “Ready whenever you are, sir.” I said to Baurus.

“Wait for him to follow me. I want to see what he does next,” Baurus stood up, draining the last of his ale, then walked to the rear, around the corner of the bar. As I reached down for the Kvatch Wolf, I saw the Breton put his book away in a back bag and hurry after Baurus. After a heartbeat, I limped to the rear, just in time to see the other man step through a door.

The barkeep gave me a slight nod when I glanced back, making certain no one else had spotted me. The door swung open silently at my light touch, and I stepped through onto a descending flight of stairs, their steps shrouded in darkness. Against the dim light of the cellar below, I could see a dark figure disappear around the corner.

Limping as silently down the steps as my heavy boots would allow, I soon reached the cellar floor. Baurus’s voice reached me from the shadows of the underground chamber. “Hello, stranger,” he stepped casually toward the Breton. “Why are you following me?”

The other man jumped back, raising his left hand to cast familiar sulfur smoke. “Die, Redguard!” Baurus drew his katana in time to strike the other’s arm, now encased in red-and-black armor, deflecting the daedric mace to the side. My own katana had sought my right palm and moved, almost of its own volition, toward the backs of the assassin’s knees.

The assailant spun and fell to one knee, snarling as he swung that horrible mace wildly at us. Even with that dread armor, his lack of combat training showed in his indecision about which of us constituted the greater threat. Baurus stepped in and caught the other’s mace against his katana’s guard, disarming the Breton with a flick of his blade. The summoned weapon dissolved into sulfurous smoke before it hit the stone pavers. The assassin froze when the tip of Baurus’s sword slid beneath the other’s helm, stopping just short of the Breton’s throat.

“Who are you?” Baurus demanded while I stepped behind the other, resting the edge of my blade against the back of his neck. “Who are you working for?”

With a snarl, the Breton seized Baurus’s weapon in both gauntleted hands. Metal shrieked on metal as he tipped his body forward, impaling the tip of the blade into his own throat. We stared as the daedric armor disappeared with a yellow swirl that caught in our throats, making us cough and our eyes smart from the sulfurous tang. With a rattling gasp, the Breton slumped off Baurus’s katana and crumpled to the floor, rage already fading from his dark eyes.

Stunned, I met Baurus’s furious gaze above the other’s body. “What was that about, sir?” I gasped.

He scowled, scanning the cellar for more enemies before sheathing his katana. “Every time I disarm one, he or she commits suicide before I can start asking questions.” He met my gaze as I put my blade away, and gripped my right shoulder. “But by Talos! Am I glad to see you again, Julian!” he said, his grin flashing white in the dim light. “I got a message from Grandmaster Jauffre that he was sending an agent, but I never expected it would be you!” Holding me at arm’s length, he eyed me up and down. “You look much better than when I last saw you.”

“Grandmaster told me to take my orders from you, sir.”

“All right,” Baurus nodded, stepping back to the body and kneeling beside him. A quick search of his pockets revealed a small identification tag. “Astav Wirich,” he read. “Never pegged him for one of those assassins, not until I noticed him following me.” He handed me the back bag. “See what you can find in there.”

“Yes, sir.” In the bag I found the book he had been reading, and little else. Commentaries on the Mysterium Xarxes, Volume One. I showed it to Baurus.

“Never saw anything like it,” he shook his head. “But this might be the break we need.” He rose to his feet, brushing the dust off his pants.

“What have you learned so far?”

“The assassins who killed the Emperor were part of a daedric cult called the Mythic Dawn,” he responded. “Apparently, they worship Mehrunes Dagon.” He toed the body thoughtfully, nudging the Breton over so he lay face up.

“The enemy has the Amulet,” I told him. His black gaze shot up at me, and Baurus’s brows lifted in surprise and despair.

“What? They took it from Jauffre? Things are worse than I thought.”

“We have Uriel’s son, Martin Septim,” I offered. I didn’t think his black brows could climb any higher, but they did.

“Thank Talos he lives!” His gaze fell on the Kvatch Wolf. “You found him in Kvatch?” his fingers brushed the edge of the light iron buckler. I nodded. His eyes grew dark. “So that’s why they opened that portal there -” his voice trailed off.

I inhaled sharply. “They knew about him?” I whispered. “They were looking for him?”

“I doubt they picked Kvatch at random,” Baurus said grimly. “That means when they find out where he is in hiding, they’ll open another one there.” He plucked the little book from my right hand, flipping through its pages. “Go see Tar-Meena at the Arcane University in the morning. I’ll send her a message to expect you.” Handing the book back to me, he met my gaze. “Show her that book, see what she makes of it. For tonight, get some food and a bed from Broad.” He knelt beside Wirich. “I’ll take care of this.”

This post has been edited by haute ecole rider: Aug 17 2010, 07:51 PM

[Olen]

Woo, good part, that back of the knee slash is becoming her trademark move.

You're managing to build good tension too, there's definatly a good hook drawing me into this which shows how strong the characters are (given I already know the plot (but even so can feel it thickening). I want to read more.

There's something about reaching Luther Broad's in the plot, it feels like a milestone has been reached and the mythic dawn start to become less obscure and more real badies. I can't wait to see how you show them, if pulling the sword through his own throat is anything to go by I think they might be real nutters...

[SubRosa]

Baurus, James Baurus meets Julian Powers, the International Woman of Mystery!

I read Watchmen when it first came out, back when it was in individual comics rather than all put together in one big book. I like how they put the clock on the back, and with every issue it got closer to midnight, and more more covered in dripping blood.

Nice bit with the serving wench, and her disappointment that Julian chose the bar. Although when you think about it, she would probably make much more in tips from men than women anyhow...

I liked your description of the sulfurous stench of the conjured weapons and armor. It adds a extra dimension, and brings the scene more to life.

I see Baurus has been at this for a while! I wonder how many Mythic Dawn agents he has killed? It sounds like quite a few. Also good bit of moving the plot forward in his conversation with Julian. We finally learn who the enemy is, why they attacked Kvatch, and even have some foreshadowing about Bruma thrown in. All was done in a few sentences of dialogue, coming out naturally. Was some of that new? I cannot recall if all of it was in there before, namely the part about Bruma?

As a sidenote, I worked up a Mythic Dawn mod (to let you play as a member) and discovered that their bound armor is actually rather weak. It has the equivalent stats to Iron Armor. So good in the early game, but rather weak later on. I had to make leveled versions of it. What blows me away is how expensive it all is magicka-wise though. They had to make it a lesser power, with no cost, otherwise it would be impossible for anyone to summon it.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: May 16 2010, 09:02 PM

[mALX]

I'm glad you changed this one, I like this version better and I think it fits Julian better. Her mind is as sharp as a tack!!!

[D.Foxy]

Somebody's been reading too much Ian Fleming.

[Destri Melarg]

“What have you learned so far?”

Sorry, I can't resist:

- We have learned that in Cyrodiil would be assassins are considerate enough to wear nametags to keep us from guessing at their identity.

- We have learned that advances in plumbing are such that water springs from brass taps in Luther Broad’s, yet no one in Cyrodiil seems to own a bathtub.

- And finally we have learned that haute ecole rider is incapable of writing a bad chapter.

[haute ecole rider]

@Olen: I agree about reaching a milestone when entering Luther's and coming face to face with Astav Wirich. I'm glad you're noticing that Julian has a trademark move! Yup, that just developed that way. Good way to bring your opponent down. As for Wirich being a nutter, religious fervor does that to one . . .

@SubRosa: I don't know, that wench probably could make plenty in tips from the right kind of women . . . Anyways, the combat part is rewritten, due to comments about Baurus's ineptitude as an undercover agent (which is why he went back to bodyguarding, obviously), and also to a comment somewhere that those assassins get killed and no one keeps them alive long enough to question them. Your comment about the magicka expense of the summoned armor and weapons is very interesting . . . already I see ways to work that into my fiction, if that's okay with you.

@mALX: Thanks!

@le Reynard: Fleming? Who's Ian Fleming? Oh, yeah, the guy who wrote the James Bond novels. Never read 'im. Unless maybe you were referring to a certain skinny Bosmer lady?

@Destri: Of course Wirich carried a nametag! How else do we know his name in-game? It kills me that I know an NPC's name before we even start talking (or swinging weapons) in the game. Actually, I was thinking the IC is such a big place, its citizens might carry ID tags to differentiate them from tourists. It might come up in a conversation later (with Ozymandias perhaps?). As for bathtubs, well, I'll make sure to include one. I've already included a piss pot in the first post, why not a bathtub? Or a hot shower? Ah, running water! The Best Thing about Civilization! And thanks for that last compliment. I'll try not to let any of you down!

Julian finds out just how many volumes make up the Commentaries. Yikes! Not that she hates to read, just that her eyes aren’t as good as they used to be . . . Getting old’s a b***, ain’t it?

By the way, deosil refers to movement in a clockwise direction; it means with the movement of the sun (at least in the Northern Hemisphere, it’s the opposite in the Southern).

**********************
Chapter 7.3 The Arcane University

Broad served a breakfast as hearty and plain as the supper last night. As I tucked away the cold roast mutton, warm bread, and sliced pears, he poured me a cup of klah to go with it. “Sleep well, ma’am?” he asked me. With a quick glance up from my plate, I nodded.

After supper last night, I had gone up to the room Broad had let for the night. The clean and well-lit room was the ideal place to catch up on some reading. I still had Piner’s Warp in the West and Sigrid’s Pocket Guide in my pack. When my eyes burned from reading, I had slept dreamlessly, and woken this morning feeling stronger than before. Instead of pulling on my leathers, I chose to wear the stitched green shirt and tan skirt, with the rough cowhide shoes, that Belisarius had slipped into my pack yesterday.

Breakfast finished, I pushed the plate away. “I’d like to keep the room for another night,” I said, handing over a few drakes. The pack was heavy enough, and the thought of carrying it around all day didn’t sit well with me. Both the bag and my weapons still remained in the room. I carried only my small bag containing Wirich’s book.

“Fine with me,” Broad took the coins nonchalantly. “Keep the key for another day.”

“Can you tell me how to get to the Arcane University?”

“Head back to Home and Garden,” Broad started sketching a rough circle on the bar surface, using condensation from the water jug. “Hang a left down Home Street, to the gates at the end. That’ll get you to Green Emperor Way.”

He traced a circular path around the center of the circle. “Go deosil around the Palace until you get to the third gate along. That’ll let you into the Arboretum District. Go straight across the District, past Tiber Septim, to the gates in the outer wall.”

Now he drew a second, smaller circle off to the side of the first. Connecting the two with a straight line, he continued, “Go across the bridge, and you’ll be at the Arcane University.” He looked up at me. “Unless you’re a University member, the only part you can access is the lobby on the first floor of the Mages’ Tower.”

“Thanks,” I said, “I appreciate your help, sir.”

Outside, rain fell from a dark sky. Even though dawn had arrived several hours ago, the streetlamps still flickered in the light wind. Making my way past the plots that gave the Elven Gardens District its name, I soon reached the open gates at the top of the broad stairs. People scurried back and forth, heads down and shoulders hunched against the weather. The slight chill in the air reminded me that fall was coming. At the thought of Cloud Ruler Temple, I shivered. It will only get colder there. Yet I had enjoyed meeting the Blades there, had felt comfortable among their company.

My thoughts back in the present, I climbed the steps to the open gates that pierced the inner ring wall dividing the Palace District from the surrounding neighborhoods. At the sight of more stairs leading down to the Green Emperor Way, I barely stifled a groan and moved to the side so I could hobble down without slowing other pedestrians. Gravestones and marble tombs, memorial columns and carefully pruned topiaries made up the outer ring section of the Palace District. The central portion consisted of the Imperial Palace set on a raised platform within an open rotunda. Above it, White Gold Tower rose to pierce the overcast sky. Palace Guards, in silver and gold armor that flashed even on this dull day, paced around the Palace itself.

My feet moved deosil around the Green Emperor Way, and I weaved among the gravestones and tombs. The topiary heads made the hairs on the backs of my neck rise, their featureless eyes seeming to follow me as I passed them. The rain faded to a light drizzle, and the overcast brightened. Counting gates, I reached the third portal from the Elven Gardens.

I had thought the Elven Gardens District beautiful, with its gardens and plantings. The Arboretum District, on the other hand, took my breath away. More of the magnolias and dwarf maples filled the open space, with fountains burbling beneath their branches. Boulders rose out of beds of cheerful primroses and tall bugloss. Azalea shrubs lined the wide stone path that led from the Green Emperor Way to the center of the District, where an immense stone man stood within an open rotunda. As I made my limping progress toward the statue, I looked up into his face, recognizing the square features of Tiber Septim, familiar to me from years of pay scrips.

Surrounding him stood eight equally large statues, but they seemed smaller than the first Septim since their plinths were slightly lower. Still, they stood head and shoulders above the magnolia trees. Julianos, with his long beard and his triangle, stood just to my left. Opposite him, I could just make out the dragon head of Akatosh.

The drizzle trickled away, and the clouds parted to let the sun through, a beam landing on Tiber Septim. The rain on his face gave his stone eyes a gleam that made him seem lifelike, watchful and wary. My feet faltered just outside the rotunda, and I stared at him. Clanging armor tore my gaze away as a Watchman approached. He caught my eye, and hesitated.

“Sometimes I feel like he’s watching me, ma’am,” he commented. “I don’t get that from the other Divines.”

“Probably because he was a real Emperor, and a general,” I responded, stepping away from the rotunda. “Attention from a general usually means bad news.” The Watchman grinned with a chuckle, then walked on. Continuing in the other direction, toward the outer wall, I found the open gate. Beyond, I could see the straight line of a bridge, and the pale grey walls of the Arcane University in the distance.

The bridge, of stone construction with a low parapet, leaped across the chasm separating the main hill of City Isle and the smaller hill crowned by the Arcane University. I trudged up yet more stairs leading to another set of gates. Within, an Imperial Legion battlemage, recognizable by the blue hood in place of the usual Legion helm, turned his regard on me.

“Good morning, ma’am,” he greeted me. “Welcome to the Arcane University.”

“I’m supposed to meet Tar-Meena,” I said to him, pausing at the bottom of the stairs. He pointed toward the central tower, up more stairs. By Akatosh, I’m getting tired of this Imperial City! All these stairs!

“Go in the lobby,” he directed. “Ask Raminus Polus. He should be there.”

Please let there be no more stairs inside, I prayed as I trudged up the last flight of steps to the bronze double doors at the base of the tower. Inside, I was relieved to find only a couple of steps before I reached the main floor. The round room was high-ceilinged, and took up the entire first floor. An Imperial mage turned to face me.

“Welcome to the Arcane University,” he greeted me, his brown eyes assessing me. “Have you come to join the Guild?”

“Join? Me?” I repeated, startled. “I - I came to speak to Tar-Meena, sir.”

“Ah, my mistake, then,” he bowed to me, putting his palms together. Then he gestured toward an Argonian woman seated on a nearby bench, reading. “She is there,” he said, before moving away. My limping stride loud in the silence, I moved to stand before her. After turning a page, she looked up at me, her red-orange eyes curious.

“Tar-Meena?” I asked. “Baurus sent me, ma’am.” Her gaze turned assessing, then she waved me to the bench beside her. I sat down at the indicated place, stretching my right leg to ease the ache in my knee.

“You musst be the one I got the messsage about,” she said, with a slight hiss in her voice. “How can I help you?”

“I’m Julian, ma’am,” I volunteered. “I’m here to learn about the Mythic Dawn.”

“You know of them?” Tar-Meena’s spined brows lifted. “One of the mosst ssecretive of the daedric cultss.”

Pulling the little purple book from my bag, I showed it to Tar-Meena, “I found one of their books, ma’am.”

“Ah, yess,” she took the book in her long, scaled fingers, examining it closely, gently turning the pages. “The Commentariess of the Myssterium Xarxess, written by Mankar Camoran. Wonderful!” she handed the book back to me. “You have a sscholarly interesst in the cult?”

Do I? “We think they may be behind the Emperor’s assassination,” I said quietly. “We need to find them.”

Tar-Meena’s brows rose again. “Really?” she matched my soft tone. “I won’t poke my nosse any further - I know how ssecretive the Bladess can be.” She rose to her feet, her book in hand, and brushed the creases out of her blue robe. “Wait here,” she said. “I will be back.”

The slender Argonian moved with deceptive quickness to one of the doors in the rear of the room, leaving me alone with the Imperial mage. He had remained at the far side of the room, studiously ignoring us, but with Tar-Meena’s departure he now turned to regard me openly.

Uncomfortable with his stare, I looked down at the purple book in my hand. Opening it to the first page, I started reading. Almost immediately, I was confused. Instead of the dry, factual recitation of the Pocket Guide, or the terse narrative of the Warp in the West, the tone of this book was obtuse, flowery with no obvious purpose. My mind blanked after the first two pages, and I closed the volume and tucked it into my bag.

“Is Tar-Meena of assistance to you, ma’am?” the Imperial mage had drawn closer.

“Yes, sir, she is,” I answered. “She told me to wait here.” A sudden thought crossed my mind. What if she wanted to get rid of me? But no, Baurus wouldn’t send me to her if she would do such a thing.

“Then I believe she shall not keep you waiting long,” the mage responded with a half-smile. “I am Raminus Polus, Advisor to the Council of Mages.”

“I’m Julian, from Anvil,” I responded, moving to rise. Polus shook his head, gesturing me to remain seated.

“No, no need to stand on ceremony here,” he insisted. “I can see that your leg is bothering you. If you’ve walked from one side of the Imperial City to the other to get here, I can only imagine what all these steps have done. “

“Excuse me, sir,” I cast a healing spell, and the throbbing ache in my knee eased. “I keep forgetting that I know at least this much.”

“That was a little one, ma’am,” Polus had followed the spell-light with his brown eyes. “Do you not know a stronger one?”

I remembered what Tumindil had told me, back in Skingrad. “I’m only a novice in restoration magic, sir,” I responded.

“Ah, well, you’re never too old to learn new things!” Polus commented cheerfully. Somehow I wasn’t offended.

“That’s what I’m finding out, these days,” I returned dryly. Just then, Tar-Meena returned, and Polus discreetly withdrew to the opposite side of the room once more.

Seating herself by my side, Tar-Meena handed me another book, nearly identical to the one I carried. “Here, you can take the library’ss copy of Volume Two,” she said. “The Commentariess come in four volumess. I believe that Mankar Camoran’ss writingss contain cluess to the location of the sshrine. If you want to find it, you will need all four of the volumess.”

“Where can I find the other two volumes?” I asked, carefully tucking the library’s book next to Wirich’s tome.

“Try Phintiass, in the Market Disstrict,” Tar-Meena responded. “He runss Firsst Edition, and bragss that it iss the premier booksstore in all of Cyrodiil.” Now she leaned toward me conspiratorially. “Phintass caterss to sspecialisst collectorss. He may have an idea where to find volumess three and four.”

“Who was Mankar Camoran?” I asked, thinking about what Tar-Meena had said.

“The ssuppossed leader of the Mythic Dawn cult,” she answered. “He wrote thesse infamouss Commentariess. They are contemporary with Tiber Sseptim, over four hundred yearss ago, sso he’ss unlikely to be alive sstill. Though,” her tone turned pensive, “you never know.”

“What is this M- Mysterium Xarxes?” I asked, referring to the title on the book spines in my bag.

“It iss the holy book of the Mythic Dawn,” Tar-Meena said. “Ssuppossedly written by Mehruness Dagon himsself. If it exisstss, it would be an artifact of great -” she shook a finger at me, “and evil - power.”

“And the Mythic Dawn?” I wanted to be certain I had all the information I needed.

“No one knowss how widesspread the cult iss, or where their sshrine to Mehruness Dagon iss located.”

“Thank you, Tar-Meena,” I said, rising to my feet and closing the flap of my small bag. “You’ve been helpful.”

This post has been edited by haute ecole rider: Aug 17 2010, 09:21 PM

[Olen]

Good part, I loved this bit of the main quest (which didn't go on long enough IMO), the intregue and discovery you put in the writing are very much as I remember them.

Deosil is a good word... though I've never seen it spelt that way. Deasil is the normal spelling I think (though given it's scots root there are probably a dozen different spellings).

Again I liked the description of the imperial city and its many stairs. Great stuff

[mALX]

I love how you gave Tar-Meena a slight hiss, I picture a forked tongue darting in and out of her mouth now, lol. You are really making the MQL come alive with Julian, I love this!!

[SubRosa]

The wench probably would get rich off of Teresa... But sadly women like her are far and inbetween.

The Mythic Dawn armor & mace combo summoning would normally cost 32,100 magicka to cast, and the armor & sword combo 46,500. For that you get armor with a base AR of 20, a helmet with a base AR of 6, a mace with a base damage of 22, or a claymore with a base damage of 29. The weapons are the standard Bound Mace/Bound Sword, which are pretty powerful. But the armor is slightly worse than having all the same in Iron (Iron Cuirass, gauntlets, greaves, boots, and helmet), which gives a base AR of 28.

For my mod I dropped the weapons (because I do not like the look of Daedric weapons), and made versions of it with the same stats as Iron, Dwemer, Elven, Ebony, and Deadric.

Anyway, on to what you actually wrote. A hearty breakfast for Julian, she is eating much better since joining the Blades. No water this time either I see...

I always thought it was odd that the graveyard surrounds the palace. I suppose that might tell us something about the government of Cyrodiil... Oh, are those dwarf maples, or Dwemer Maples...

Attention from a general usually means bad news.
Something Volsinius can attest to!

On deosil, that is how I usually see it in Neo-Pagan circles. I have seen it deasil as well, usually only from older sources.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: May 19 2010, 07:05 PM

[Acadian]

7.1 - 7.3

Woohoo! This continues to be wonderful. I like the intrigue. You are doing a great job with it.

[haute ecole rider]

@Olen: When I roleplayed Julian's walk through the IC in my head, I remember thinking "ouch, ouch, ouch, what? MORE stairs??" I had never noticed that before! I agree, the intrigue and discovery just did not go on long enough. I love few things more than a good espionage novel. Never read Ian Fleming, but read a lot of Robert Ludlum and John LeCarre way back in college. Ahh, the good old days of the Cold War . . .

@mALX and Acadian: Thanks again!

@SubRosa: All those numbers don't mean much to me! Just how much magicka cost does the Mythic Dawn gear compare to? I only know the relative costs, playing this on the Xbox and all. As for deasil/deosil, the first is Gaelic in origin, and old, the second is newer, like you said. It probably is spelled other ways, but I can't remember just how. And I didn't call them Dwemer maples because the Dwemer, according to the Lore, are normal in height (or tall?), not stunted at all. The Bosmer males continue to hold the record for the shortest of the folk, mer, men or beast. I had pictured Japanese dwarf maples in mind (specifically the Bloodgood variety), since they are the most beautiful and graceful of the smaller trees.

Some of you might have heard me say this about Gwinas before, but it bears repeating. He remains one of my most endearing NPC's in this story.

In the last chapter Julian learns she has to find two more volumes of the Commentaries. In this upcoming chapter, she locates the third volume. Gwinas caught me totally off guard. I had been struggling with this chapter, and he literally seized the keyboard from me and took off running. I couldn’t type fast enough to keep up with him. Enjoy!

************
Chapter 7.4 Volume Three

A bustling scene greeted me as I passed into the Market District. Pausing at the top of the stairs near the gates to Green Emperor Way, I looked down Commerce Street to the tall portal set in the outside wall. Unlike the other gates in the Imperial City, this portal was closed, and had four Watchmen posted near it.

The tip of a tower peeked just above the outer wall. I realized with a chill that those gates at the far end led to the Imperial Prison. With a stifled shudder, I limped down the steps and moved to one side of Commerce Street, squinting at the shop signs. The sun had come out, and between the white marble that seemed to be the favored construction material and the gleaming wet that reflected the sunbeams, the glare was a little strong.

People moved back and forth past me, some running, some walking. Some carried large bags crammed with stores, others moved empty-handed. I found it difficult to walk a straight line, first sidestepping a porter, bent over from a heavy load, then skipping ahead to avoid a pair of Khajiiti streaking past, before ducking back to give way to a well-dressed matron trailing a retinue.

Finally reaching the first of the doorways on the right side of the street, I paused to catch my breath. Never been in a market this busy! The sun beat down between the white marble walls, the air simmering as the recent rain evaporated away. Ahead, on Market Way, I could see open stalls crowding the street, hear the shouts of vendors, and smell assorted foods. With a shake of my head, I looked at the sign above my head.

First Edition. A pictograph of an open book left no doubt in my mind that my eyes were not seeing things. How lucky am I?The first shop I reach is the one I want! I couldn’t get the bronze door open quickly enough, escaping the chaos that was the Market District.

Within, the shop was cool, dark, and oh, so blessedly quiet. As I paused a moment to let my eyes adjust, I smelled dry, musty pages. The dust motes floating gently in the air tickled the back of my nose, and I stifled a sneeze.

“Yes, how may I help you, ma’am?” the haughty voice drew my eyes to the Redguard merchant standing behind the shop counter. Rubbing at my still-itching nose, I moved toward him slowly.

“Phintias?” I asked uncertainly.

“At your service, ma’am,” he responded. “Take a look around. If I don’t have it, maybe I can get it.”

Music to my ears. “I’m looking for the -” I hesitated over the unfamiliar words, “- Mysterium Xarxes, sir.”

“You must be referring to the Commentaries on the Mysterium Xarxes,” his tone became condescending. “Comes in four volumes. First two are rare, but the third and fourth are even more so.”

“I’m looking for the third and fourth volumes, sir,” I tried to hide how important they were to me. No need to drive up the price if I have to haggle. I hated haggling.

“I have the third volume,” Phintias responded. “But it’s a special order. I’m holding it for another customer. Gwinas would be disappointed if I sold it to another.”

“What about the fourth volume?” I started walking around the shop, looking at the books on the shelves.

“I wish I had one, but I’ve never even seen a copy,” Phintias said, a tone of avarice creeping into his voice.

“Is there any way I could buy this third volume from you, sir?” I asked. “Or maybe get another copy?”

“I’d hate to let Gwinas down.” Phintias shook his head. “I gave him my word that I would hold the book for him. He’s come all the way from Valenwood.” He shrugged. “Feel free to wait for him.”

Back to the shelves, I surveyed the titles again. The Lusty Argonian Maid, Dwemer History and Culture, Gods and Worship, History of Lock Picking, The Last King of the Ayleids, Manual of Arms, and The Amulet of Kings. My hand reached for the last volume, and I brought the book down. It was small, smaller than the Commentaries, dressed in a plain brown cover.

“You read it, you bought it,” Phintias called from behind the counter. I held the book up for him. “Ah, yes, The Amulet of Kings. How appropriate for these dark times.” He nodded at me. “That would be two drakes.”

Searching my bag for the coins, I placed the drakes on the counter. “Thank you, sir,” I slipped The Amulet of Kings into my small bag.

Behind me, the bell over the shop door chimed, its tinkle nearly drowned by the street noise. As I stepped away from the counter, I turned to see a small Bosmer, in red silk robes, blond hair pulled up into a topknot, enter the shop. The door swung closed behind him as he beelined for the counter and Phintias.

“I’m here for my book,” his high-pitched voice sounded like a prissy boy’s. “Mankar Camoran’s Commentaries on the Mysterium Xarxes, Volume Three.” Phintias sent me an arch look, see, this one knows what he is talking about - he got the name correct, he seemed to be saying. The Redguard merchant reached beneath the counter and drew up a small purple volume, identical to the two books I already carried.

“Of course,” he said, laying the book into the Bosmer’s eager hands. “Here you go, sir. Keep us in mind for your future needs!”

“Oh, thank you, thank you!” the Bosmer clutched the book to his chest. “I can’t tell you how long I’ve been searching for this!” He spun on his heel, red silk swirling around him, and passed me with barely a glance, a whiff of perfume trailing him. Phintias shot me a look and a slight nod as Gwinas left the shop.

Following the little Bosmer out, I called after him, “Gwinas?” making the word a question. He paused, glancing back at me. Uncertainly he turned to face me as I stopped an arm’s length away. His head barely reached my chin. “I’m interested in your Volume Three of the Commentaries,” I said.

His round little face became alarmed. “Have you been following me? Leave me alone! The book is mine!” the vehemence in his tone on the last word surprised me.

“I’m trying to find out about the Mythic Dawn cult,” I decided to try a different tack. “I’ve been looking for that book, too.”

“The Mythic Dawn?” Gwinas repeated, his brows rising. “Are you - I mean, I don’t know anything about it!” His tone told me he did, indeed, know something. As I considered my next move, I caught a whiff of that perfume from his silk robes. That made up my mind.

He backed up against the wall as I stepped closer to him, towering over him. “You’re in way over your head,” I warned softly. Gwinas paled, but drew himself up onto tiptoe indignantly, trying to match my own height but succeeding only in reaching my eyes.

“I beg your pardon?” he spluttered huffily. “You presume to tell me about daedric cults? I’ve visited the Shrine of Sheogorath during the Festival of the Mad! I’ve spoken with Hermaeus Mora beneath the full moons! I’ve -”

Stooping down so we were eye to eye, I interrupted quietly and forcefully, “They killed the Emperor.” He gasped, his fine brows shooting up his forehead.

“What?” he exclaimed, his eyes locked on mine as I straightened up. “The Mythic Dawn were the ones? I - I - I had no idea!” he caught his breath, easing his heels back to the ground. “Mankar Camoran’s views on Mehrunes Dagon are interesting, revolutionary even, but to - to murder the Emperor!” His voice rose. “Oh, Mara save me!”

“Trouble?” a Watchman clanged up to us, his gaze moving from me to Gwinas. My mouth suddenly dry, I kept my face as neutral as my pounding heart would let me, and tipped my head at Gwinas. He looked frantically from me to the soldier.

“N- no, sir, n- no t- trouble at all,” he stammered. “Just getting some terrible news!” He grabbed my elbow. “Please, let’s take this somewhere less - public, shall we?”

“If you’re certain, sir,” the Watchman stepped back as Gwinas pulled me after him into the maelstrom that was Merchants Way. The Bosmer’s grip was surprisingly strong, as Gwinas weaved through the crowd toward a stoop opposite a tall statue in a plaza. I caught the sign above the door before he pushed through - The Merchants Inn. Inside, it was quiet and dark, cool after the oppressive heat outside.

Gwinas didn’t give me a chance to let my eyes adjust, only dragged me to the rear of the common room. A young Imperial man wandered over to us, towel over one shoulder. “Whaddya have?” he asked us as Gwinas plopped himself down on an upholstered bench, pulling me down next to him. I became aware of several pairs of eyes on us as Gwinas ordered a goblet of Surilie Brothers wine. Ordering klah mostly to get rid of the server, I turned to look at the flustered Bosmer.

“Is it true?” he whispered, his eyes showing white all around the irises like a spooked horse. “The Mythic Dawn assassinated the Emperor?”

“It looks that way,” I responded, keeping my own voice even. As the scattering of patrons turned back to their meals, I leaned back, easing my knee, which had started throbbing again. “I’m trying to find them, find the truth.” Pausing as the server returned with our drinks, I waited as Gwinas handed over a couple of septims. The boy grinned at us and withdrew to the bar. Did Gwinas just give him a fat tip? Good way to remain unnoticed.

“Oh, Mara!” Gwinas put his hand to his topknot, patting at the hairpin that held it together. With a start, he dropped the book onto the table, nearly knocking his wineglass over. I caught it and handed him the glass, taking the mug of klah for myself.

“Drink up, Gwinas,” I said curtly. “And calm down. It’s not the end of the world.” I waited until he took a gulp of his wine before sipping at my klah. “Yet,” I added when I had swallowed the hot liquid. He made a sound like a yipping lapdog, and the wine sloshed in the glass again.

“What am I going to do now!” he managed to keep his voice down, but I could still hear the panic. “They’re expecting me!”

“Expecting you?” I repeated. Gulping down the rest of the wine, Gwinas picked up the third volume and shoved it at me.

“Take this, I don’t want it anymore!” he exclaimed, still holding the presence of mind to keep his voice down.

“Expecting you?” I pressed, clamping my right hand on his wrist, letting him feel the strength of my sword-grip.

“Yes, ow!” Gwinas gasped. “You’re hurting me!” he hissed. When I released his wrist, he rubbed at it, staring at me. “The Sponsor is supposed to meet me and give me the fourth volume - if I pass his test.” He pulled a piece of folded paper from a pocket in his robe. “Here, see?” I took the paper and read it.

Gwinas,

Your interest in the writings of the Master has been noted. You are taking the first steps towards true enlightenment. Persevere, and you may yet join the exalted ranks of the Chosen.

If you wish to continue further down the Path of Dawn, you will need the fourth volume of the Master's "Commentaries on the Mysterium Xarxes." It can be obtained only from a member of the Order of the Mythic Dawn. As your designated Sponsor, I will pass on my copy to you if I deem you worthy.

Study the first three volumes of the Master's writings. Look for the hidden meaning in his words, as best as you are able.

When you are ready, come to the Sunken Sewers under the Elven Gardens in the Imperial City. Come alone. Follow the main tunnel until you reach the room with the table and chair. Sit down. I will meet you there and give you what you desire.

The Sponsor

“Oh, what am I going to do?” Gwinas leaned forward, putting his head in his hands, elbows propped up on his knees. “Everyone will think I was involved in their insane plots!”

“Is there any other way to get the fourth volume?” I asked Gwinas. He looked at me from under his hands.

“No, that’s the only way,” he said. “But if I don’t show up, they’ll know something is wrong, and they’ll hunt me down!” He sat bolt upright. “If they’re capable of killing the Emperor himself, what will keep them from killing me?”

I gripped his shoulder hard enough to make him flinch. He glared at me. “I will go in your place,” I said quietly. “They’ve never met you, correct?”

“No, never!” he exclaimed. “And I wish to keep it so! You -” his eyes widened as he took in the implications of my statement, “you will go in my stead?”

“I’ll take care of this,” I waved the note for emphasis. “They won’t bother you.” Finishing the rest of my klah, I rose to my feet. “Where are you staying?”

“At the Tiber Septim Hotel,” Gwinas said. “Oh, thank you, thank you!”

“Come on, I’ll escort you safely there.”

[mALX]

Poor Gwinas!!!

Some of you might have heard me say this about Gwinas before, but it bears repeating. He remains one of my most endearing NPC's in this story.

Julian then goes on to bully the poor fop into submission - one of her few times she hasn't been pleasant to know since the story began - makes me wonder if Gwinas had to change his drawers at the end of the encounter, lol.

I loved this chapter the first time I read it and still do. You nailed both Gwinas and Phintias and showed us a different side to Julian all in the same chapter. Er...she wasn't spoultry, was she? ROFL !!!!

[SubRosa]

Good description of the busy streets of the Market District, with Julian having to dodge people through the streets. Also good work on the bright sunlight reflecting off the wet, white marble. These little things build the setting and make it feel like a real place.

Also good job of conveying Phintias as an overbearing jerk. In every one of my games he comes off more condescending than the stereotypical snooty Altmer.

Ahh, Gwinas! One of my favorite Bosmer. He is so much fun! I hope we can see more of him in future OHDH chapters.

Edit: About those magicka costs:
The Flare spell you start the game with has a base magicka cost of 11
The Heal Minor Wounds you start with has a cost of 14
You can look up all the spells in the game here.


This post has been edited by SubRosa: May 20 2010, 09:06 PM

[Destri Melarg]

First you give me Tar-Meena and her sssybilant esssesss (kudos again for rendering that in a way that didn’t become annoying), then you follow it up with Phintias (who always makes me want to kill him anytime I do the quest Order of the Virtuous Blood), then you cap it off with the wonderfully obsequious Gwinas (who for some reason reminds me of Maglir from the Fighter’s Guild). I too hope that we will be seeing more of the little Bosmer in the future.

[minque]

Oh my...what can I say that's not been said before?

Julian is impressive, I honestly admire her way of dealing with ppl...he but that's of course your brilliant writing right?



oh.. yes I will continue my story...I will. I'm very glad you like it! thank you so much!

[haute ecole rider]

@mALX: No, that's not Julian being spoultry! More like the old pilus coming back. You'll see more of this side of her as the story goes on. And yes, I still adore Gwinas in this more than I like him in the game. We see him in a somewhat better light later in the story.

@SubRosa: Thanks for the info about the comparative costs for the basic spells - that helps a lot with comparing them to the Mythic Dawn summons. That may be useful later on!

@Destri: I'm glad you liked my version of Gwinas. I never liked Maglir - I can't find it in me to tolerate people who weasel out of their commitments/contracts. If I ever write the FG storyline, believe me, Maglir will be very unlikable! But Gwinas is a scholar in search of ever more knowledge, and that's something I can relate to. I also imagine he is a man of his word, as well.

@minque: Julian deals with people better than I do! She has far more patience with idiocy than me! I'm glad you're still enjoying this. Hopefully this (and some of the other excellent fiction on this forum) will inspire you to continue Serene's story.

In the last chapter, Julian collects the third volume of the Commentaries, and finds out how to get the fourth and last volume. Now she and Baurus head off after it.

***********************
Chapter 7.5 Meeting the Sponsor

Baurus approached me as I sat at Broad’s bar, shoveling some of his grub into my mouth. “You’ve been a hard one to track down, Julian,” he said quietly. “Have you found anything useful?”

Filling him in on my education, I handed him the note. His eyes gleamed as he read it. “Good work, Julian,” he said, his brows lifting at me. “I’m impressed.” He studied my street clothes with a feral glint in his dark eyes. “Get your battle gear,” he said.

Back in my room, I put the three volumes of the Commentaries and The Amulet of Kings into the pack. The small bag, with its drakes and jewels I had collected, went alongside the chest. The street clothes went into the pack with the books, and I changed into my leathers. With a sigh of relief, I recalled how vulnerable I had felt walking along Market Way in my skirt and green shirt.

My katana back on my hip, I decided to take the bow and quiver at the last minute, remembering how they had served me in the sewers. Baurus was waiting for me beside the front door when I returned to the common room.

“Come on, I know where the meeting place is,” he said. “There isn’t much time, we’d better get going.” Suiting action to words, he stepped for the door. As I followed him out, I noticed that the pair of leather bracers on his wrists was all the armor he wore. For weapons, he carried only the slim katana on his left hip.

He strode across Garden Way to an alley between two residences. The narrow path led into a small, verdant courtyard, with a fountain in one corner. Baurus led me to the opposite corner, where a grate set in the ground was shielded by azaleas.

“The sewers run beneath the entire Imperial City,” he explained as he unlatched the grate and swung it back. “There are access points in every district. We Blades use them in our undercover work, as well as a means to move around the City without attracting attention.” He slid down into the access shaft, pointing out the iron rungs set into the stone work. With a last deep breath of the sweet night air, I followed.

**********
After about half an hour of walking through fetid sewer channels and cisterns, we reached a padlocked door. Baurus turned to me. “Listen, the room with the table is on the other side,” he said quietly. “I always wondered who put it there.” He gestured toward a nearby flight of stairs that led up to a door set in the same wall at a higher level. “There’s a vantage point into the room through that door up there. If you can cover my back from up there, I’ll handle the meeting.”

“All right,” I agreed. “I’ll cover you.”

Baurus smiled, that feral glint back in his eyes again. “Good. Remember, we must not leave without that fourth volume. It’s our best chance at finding the Amulet.”

“I’m ready when you are, sir,” I said, unslinging my bow and stringing it. Baurus put a hand out to stay me.

“Listen,” his tone, and gaze, turned serious. “I may not survive this. But if I don’t, then you must. You must recover the book and find the Amulet of Kings.”

“I understand,” I matched his tone. “We’ll do it - together.”

“I’m glad to have you at my back,” Baurus said. “Okay, let’s do this.” Pulling a lockpick out of his pocket, he turned to the padlock. I limped up the stairs as quickly as I could, finding an unlocked door at the top.

Crouched within the shadows, I opened the door and slipped through. A closed iron gate barred me from a bridge that crossed the room below. A table and chair sat in the center of the chamber, and the bridge led to another iron gate and a dark space beyond. The gate in front of me creaked softly as I eased it open, and I nocked an arrow to my bow and settled down to wait in the deepest part of the shadows.

Footsteps drew my attention down into the room. Baurus appeared below the bridge, walking casually toward the table. As I watched him move with feline grace and awareness, I momentarily envied him that ability. Once on a time, I could do that, I pushed the thought away. He didn’t look up in my direction as he seated himself, yet I sensed that he knew I was there.

Murmuring voices drew my attention to the bridge on the other side of the second iron gate. The glow of a torch outlined the shape of a room beyond that second bridge. Though I had no target yet, I half-tautened my bowstring and took aim. In my peripheral vision, I saw a tall, red-cloaked figure enter the room through another gate below. He greeted Baurus imperiously. Without hesitation, the stranger immediately launched into a lecture of the Commentaries, pacing around the table and Baurus.

“So you think you have what it takes to become one of the Mythic Dawn,” the haughty Sponsor continued, as I watched that torchlight grow and coalesce into a flaming brand carried by one of two red-robed figures. “It is not so easy or simple as you think. However,” now the first of the two figures bent to unlock the gate, “the fact that you now have three of the four volumes of the Commentaries shows that you are anxious to find the path to enlightenment -”

The torch bearer glanced across the bridge in my direction, and I could see alarm come over his face. I let the arrow fly and quickly notched a second one to my bowstring. The torch fell and fizzled out, throwing the two figures into darkness. A shout, and sulfurous flares indicated the summoning of daedric armor, not only from the acolyte on the bridge, but also from the Sponsor below. Releasing the second arrow into the afterimage of the acolyte, I shouldered my bow and drew my katana. With a deep breath, I leaped from the bridge to the floor below, staggering at the stabbing pain in my right knee.

Baurus had kicked the table over, blocking the Sponsor’s charge. He rose to his feet, sending the chair crashing back into the wall. His katana flashed in time to deflect the descending daedric sword that the black-haired Altmer had summoned. As I hobbled up behind the Sponsor, I swung my blade at the backs of his thighs, forcing him to one knee.

Boots thudded to the floor behind me, a voice shouting “For Lord Dagon!” I spun around in time to deflect the falling mace of the acolyte with the Kvatch Wolf. Too close to bring my sword to bear, I shoved into him, bringing the edge of my shield up to his face with a sharp crack. He reeled back, blood pouring from his nose and mouth, giving me room to use my blade. Sliding the katana beneath that summoned cuirass, I twisted the blade within the other’s rib cage. As the acolyte slid off my sword, I spun back to the Sponsor.

Baurus had avoided the wild swing from the Sponsor’s sword and sent his katana into the other’s neck, twisting it so the helm came flying off. The helm dissolved into sulfurous smoke as the Altmer collapsed, breath rattling from the mortal wound.

When no more enemies appeared, Baurus and I sheathed our swords. “That was well done,” he said to me. “A few more of these bastards dead.” He nudged the Sponsor’s body with his booted toe, frowning at the other’s face. “That’s Raven Camoran,” he said suddenly. “I’ve heard of him - he’s a powerful mage.”

“Any relationship to Mankar Camoran?” I asked, kneeling beside the dead Altmer, now unarmored. Baurus considered my question while I searched the robes.

“It’s hard to say,” he said finally. “Mankar Camoran lived so long ago, but these Altmer do live for many, many years.”

“Here it is!” I exclaimed, my fingers finding the edges of a small volume within a pocket in the Altmer’s robe. Pulling it out, I peered at the title. Volume Four. “The fourth one,” I held it up to Baurus. He looked at it, but did not take it from me.

“Now that you have all four books,” he said, “you should be able to handle it from here.” Clapping my right shoulder as I rose to my feet, he grinned at me. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

“Wait,” I said, thinking of the first acolyte I had shot. “Let me make sure the third one’s dead.” I pointed at the bridge where it disappeared into the far wall. “There’s a room there.”

“I’ll wait for you,” Baurus said, heading for the door by which he had entered. I backtracked to the stairs outside the entrance, returned to my hiding place and moved out onto the bridge. Through the iron gate, now open, I crept forward into the dimly lit room beyond. It had bedrolls and chests, and a single, very dead corpse. I cut out the arrow still protruding from his chest and returned to Baurus.

“All good?” Baurus asked me when I returned. I nodded at him, loosening the string on my bow.

***********
We emerged from the stinking sewers into cool, clean rain. Glancing at the overcast sky, I tried to estimate the time. My stomach growled, suggesting that it was quite late in the day. Baurus turned to me, clasping my right wrist in the warrior grip. “It was good fighting with you, Julian.”

“What’s next, Baurus?” I asked. He shrugged.

“Ask Tar-Meena about those books,” he suggested. “As for me, I’m heading back to Cloud Ruler Temple. My place is at the Emperor’s side.”

“All right, sir,” I brushed the last of the sewer grime off my hands, scraping my boots on a nearby stone. “I’ll see you when I get back.”

[SubRosa]

More of James Baurus and Julian Powers! I can sense places where you have edited it, and now it flows smoother. That leap of Julian's still makes me grit my teeth. Yow, that had to hurt!

the haughty Sponsor continued
But not the haute Sponsor I see...