Interregnum, 854 of the Second Era Options

[Olen]

More or less as has been said above. That was strong chapter and introduced a lot in a very short space of words, and introduced it well. I'm greatly enjoying this.

One thing I saw:

"When they had eaten their fill they repaired to the solar.." - did you mean repaired?

Good piece, I look forward to the next part.

[Destri Melarg]

Is it just me, or do others think of the Irish hero Cuchulainn every time we read Cuhlecain?

I have written Cuchulainn when I meant Cuhlecain at least five times, but the Hero of Ulster bears very little resemblance to the would-be Emperor of Tamriel.

On a side note: Cuchulainn is what I named my dog in Dragon Age: Origins.

Ahh, Lattia again. She is probably my favorite character of this play. Her sister Varla is something else as well. Named after her stones no doubt...

nits:
He turned on his heal
I am thinking you wanted heel instead.

Thanks to the book, Harvest End, we know that the Direnni’s gained their fortune by trafficking with daedra, just as the Ayleids did. Because of that, all of the Direnni elves in this story carry Ayleidic names:

Aran – King
Varla – Star
Lattia – Light

Thank you for exposing another nit, it has been addressed.

I have to go with Hauty on this. This chapter has always been a testament to your ability to develop characters in a short setting and weave strong visual images.

High praise, coming from the creator of both Maxical and Shivani!

The powerful images you create in this chapter feel like a movie to me. Epic.
I keep looking over my shoulder in case I get hit by the boom guy.

Thank you, Wolf. And don’t worry, the AD will yell at you to move long before the Boom guy gets too close.

More or less as has been said above. That was strong chapter and introduced a lot in a very short space of words, and introduced it well. I'm greatly enjoying this.

One thing I saw:

"When they had eaten their fill they repaired to the solar.." - did you mean repaired?

Good piece, I look forward to the next part.

Thank you Olen!

In this case I am using repaired in its verb form:

Repair - To betake oneself; go, as to a place: He repaired in haste to Washington.

And stay tuned, things get a bit. . .interesting from here.

[Olen]

Nice... I didn't know that meaning and it wasn't in my smaller dictionary (I did check before suggesting it was out of place). The bigger one had it though. I like words and that's a whole new way to use one I had thought dull.

Awsome.

[Remko]

Well, you know how I feel about this story!
Are you going to change things as well or is it the same as I read before?
Okay, I know, I know, I should just read it.

[Destri Melarg]

Well, you know how I feel about this story!
Are you going to change things as well or is it the same as I read before?
Okay, I know, I know, I should just read it.

Most of the chapters are being re-written, but the rewrites are subtle. Just things that I noticed that perhaps no one else ever will. But there will be at least two, maybe more, chapters that never made it into the original. Be on the lookout for the first of Sun's Dawn, that's all I am going to say.

_____

12th Morning Star, 2E 854
Fort Black Boot, Near Cyrodiil’s Border with Elsweyr
Mid-day


For the sixth consecutive day the garrison dug trenches. The sound of picks and shovels reverberated through the valley, broken only by hastily yelled warnings as another felled tree hit Nirn. Several of the reinforcements, on horseback, hauled the dying wood to clear the land for more trenches, and to give the armorers more material for stakes.

Zurin Arctus stood on top of the watchtower and gazed to the south. From his vantage point he could see where the tree tops ended and the arid plains of Elsweyr began. Beyond the border he saw the lines of Khajiit tents before the walls of Riverhold. But that was not what drew his attention. He was more concerned with the storm clouds on the horizon, and the wind that had just shifted to the east.

Beside him Captain Itinius cradled his battered helmet and studied the Khajiit position. “That’s quite a host, Sir,” he said, “ten, maybe fifteen thousand strong, I think. It’s hard to tell at this distance, and organized. Even with the reinforcements we’ll be heavily outnumbered. Has there been any word from our Skyrim reserve?”

“Assume we’re on our own, Captain,” said Arctus, turning his attention to the Khajiit tents. “Make sure your men are ready, the attack will come tonight.”

Itinius hesitated. “Sir?”

“Speak freely, Captain.”

“Not meaning to tell the Battlemage his business, sir, but they look pretty much bivouacked to me. I’m sure their spies have told them of our situation. A night attack seems like an unnecessary risk. If what they’re doing is a feint, well, it’s a lot of trouble to go through considering how badly they outnumber us.”

“Khajiit see in the dark, Captain.”

Itinius nodded and smiled at his own stupidity. “Yes sir,” he said, “that they do.”

Movement to the west caught Arctus’ attention. A lone trooper reined his horse at the fortifications. He spoke briefly with the guard who pointed to the watchtower. The trooper nodded his thanks, dismounted, and disappeared into the fort.

Arctus heard the rapid footsteps on the tower stairs and turned away from the coming storm. The trooper emerged through the door. He saluted Captain Itinius with a clenched fist over his heart, and struggled to regain his breath.

“General Talos sends his compliments, sir,” he said to Arctus, haltingly. He looked sideways at Itinius as he tried to remain at attention, but his ride and the steps were causing him trouble.

He was a boy, no more than six and ten. Each year they get younger, Arctus thought, and we get older.

“Do you have a message, lad, or is the Battlemage expected to guess?” Itinius barked.

The boy flushed and held himself erect. “Yes sir! Sorry, sir.” Then to Arctus, “the General requests your company, sir.”

“Very well,” said Arctus, “I shall attend him. Get something to eat and water your horse, then report back to the General’s camp.”

“Yes sir.” The young trooper saluted, then turned and entered the tower.

“Have my horse prepared,” Arctus said.

“Will you require a bodyguard, Master Arctus?”

“No thank you, Captain. Keep the men occupied with their work. The less they know about tonight the better.”

“Yes sir.” Itinius nodded and performed a salute that thumped on his well-worn cuirass. He turned with practiced efficiency.

“Are you a man of faith, Captain?” Arctus asked, staring into the eye of the storm.

Itinius stopped. “Yes sir. I don’t spend much time in the Temple, but I believe in the Eight.”

“In that case you might say a prayer to Kynareth for a favorable wind.”

Itinius nodded and repeated his salute. He lingered momentarily, trying to see what the Battlemage saw, but to him the wind felt fine.

_____

Arctus rode through the gate and turned to the west. Past the trenches and the garrison he mounted a gentle slope and stopped at the edge of a deep grove. The wind picked up and shifted to the north. He closed his eyes as the first gusts hit the right side of his cheek, then he turned in his saddle to view the storm clouds. They’re getting closer, he thought; perhaps the Captain is a man of faith after all. He spurred his horse into the grove. The trees formed a canopy of gold and brown above him. They began to climb, the grade steep enough that he had to lean forward to maintain his balance. The curtain of trees parted, and the catapults came into view. Forty of them at the top of the hill, all aimed toward Fort Black Boot. As he came upon them, his horse neighed in protest as the smell hit her nostrils. Seconds later he shared her discomfort.

The carcasses were lined up near the catapults, in numbers too great to count. Most were once wolves of every size and variety, but there were dogs mixed in as well. The smell alone should give the Khajiit pause, Arctus thought.

Past the catapults Arctus looked down into the General’s camp. There were no fires burning. More than two hundred tents were huddled together in the valley, as if proximity could ward off the cold. Five centuries of a hundred men each milled through the tent lines. Some drilled in formation; others sat in small groups shivering under their blankets. Whatever activity they were engaged in they maintained a strict silence so as not to betray their position.

Arctus rode down into the camp. He rode through a sea of faces, sullen, ruddy with the cold, and eager to meet the enemy. Some stood and gave a hasty salute to mark his passing. The General’s tent was erected in the center, the hub that held the other tents together. As he dismounted a trooper appeared beside him and took the bridle of his horse. Arctus lowered his head and entered the General’s tent.

Inside candles provided the only illumination. Incense burned in a brazier set to the right of the entrance. The smoke hung oppressively in the air. To the left there was a bed with golden silk sheets. Red and gold carpets lined the floor.

An officer in gleaming silver armor was delivering his report:

“. . . from Lord Richton. He says the fleet has arrived at the mouth of the Xylo. He also says that the Bosmer have been curious, but no one objects to their presence. He wishes to know if he has leave to sack Torval.”

General Talos sat in the center of the tent in a high-backed chair of gold that looked suspiciously like a throne. “Send Lord Richton my compliments. Tell him to remain where he is, do not sail into Torval.” He spotted Arctus. “Arctus. Good of you to join us.” He turned back to the officer. “Thank you Captain Alorius, you are dismissed.”

“Sir.” Alorius saluted and left the tent.

“Forgive the incense,” said Talos, “It’s the only way to keep the smell at bay. Of course, after a while it starts to smell worse in here than outside.”

Arctus performed a salute. “General. The wind shifted as I rode in. With any luck the storm should hit us by nightfall.”

Talos laughed and pointed behind him. “Luck has nothing to do with it.”

Arctus had not seen the great Nord at the back of the tent. Ysmir sat with his legs crossed on cushions that were piled high around him. In his right hand he held a large hooka from which he suckled like a newborn. A thick plume of smoke escaped through the folds of his great shaggy beard and wafted in the air around him.

“This entire campaign is folly,” he said, “better we should invade Vvardenfell than waste our time swatting kittens.”

“Your hatred of the Tribunal has been noted,” said Talos, “you’ll have your revenge soon enough. Our priority now is to secure our southern border. I’ll not lose Cyrodiil on some fool’s errand to Morrowind.”

“Fool’s errand?” Ysmir stood and spat on the floor. The candles caused his shadow to fill the tent. “You try my patience, Stormcrown.” He pushed past Arctus and left the tent.

Talos exhaled. “At some point I’m going to have to show that man his place.”

“We still need him, General,” said Arctus, “his thu’um alone . . .”

Talos raised his hand, “I know, I know. He has his uses.”

The tent flap opened and Captain Alorius reentered the tent. The candle-light ran streaks through his silver armor.

“Begging pardons General, the harriers have returned.” He said.

Arctus took up position to the General’s right.

“Show them in, Captain.” Said Talos

Alorius saluted and left the tent, returning seconds later leading a group of four: A Bosmer wearing a fur cuirass and boots with a battered steel bow over his shoulder, a long-haired Colovian in leather armor with an iron mace hanging at his hip, and two Khajiit. The first was a slight male who wore braids that hung down to his shoulders and pulled at the skin of his scalp, giving his eyes a sleepy, half-focused quality. The second was a small child, wide-eyed and barefoot, clinging to the pant leg of his elder.

Alorius cleared his throat. “General may I present Ondereos, Flavius Livia, and Dar’Zhan.”

“Gentlemen,” said Talos, “I trust you’ve accomplished your missions.”

The Bosmer, Ondereos, stepped forward and lowered his head.

“General,” he said, “my men and I have scoured every sewer in the Imperial City. If there was a rat crawling we caught it.”

“Good.” Talos turned toward the Colovian.

“The tunnels were there just as Dar’Zhan said, sir,” said Flavius Livia. “We released the rats into the Khajiit camp without them ever seeing us.”

Dar’Zhan stepped forward. “Riverhold has closed their gates against the vermin. My clan-mates slew all of the livestock in the camp. The attack must be tonight, for they will not be able to resupply.”

“Excellent,” said Talos, “Captain, make sure you pay these men what was promised.”

“Yes Sir.” Alorius started to steer the group out of the tent.

“Who is the child?” asked Arctus.

“This is my son,” said Dar’Zhan, “he spread the rumors of the vermin in Riverhold.” He looked down at his son. “Come K’Sharra, it is time for us to go.”

This post has been edited by Destri Melarg: Apr 6 2010, 09:15 PM

[mALX]

two, maybe more, chapters that never made it into the original. Be on the lookout for the first of Sun's Dawn, that's all I am going to say.

ARGH!!! A TEASER !!!!!!! ARGH!

I loved this chapter before and still do - the beginnings of the K'Sharra Prophecy !!! You ROCK !!!

This post has been edited by mALX: Apr 2 2010, 10:45 PM

[SubRosa]

Ahh, Destri is back, and with a bit of cliffhanger of his own! This was a good lead up to the battle, as it leaves us wondering what will happen next? You especially whet our curiosity with such oddness as the rotting corpses, the rats, the trenches, etc... This Talos Stormcrown is a tricksy hobbit, that is for certain!


broken only by hastily yelled warnings as another felled tree hit Nirn.
A good touch here, avoiding the use of the word earth. That is something I always have trouble working around with terms like earthworks, earthenware, etc... which really should be nirnworks, nirnware...



nits:
Incense burned in a brassiere set to the right of the entrance.
I believe you meant brazier, a brassiere is a bra.


This is really more a matter of personal vision, but IRL a Roman Century was of 80 fighting men (each century was subdivided into 10 contubernium - or tent groups - of 8 men each). There were also 20 slaves who helped with the grunt work. Each tent group had 2 slaves and one mule. You do not hear much about the slaves, because in the Roman world they were invisible, and not worth mentioning by historians. That was in the Post-Marius Roman world. Pre-Marius there were many more slaves, depending on the era perhaps a 1-1 or even greater ratio. The same was true in the Greek world.

Of course the Cyrodiilic Empire does not have slaves, so I can see making the Century of 100 fighters. On the other hand, it could still be only 80 fighters, and 20 paid laborers. It all depends on how deep into the nitty gritty of camp life you really want to get.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Apr 3 2010, 12:32 AM

[haute ecole rider]

This is one of the outstanding chapters in an outstanding piece. When I think of the story as a whole, I think of this chapter - it captures an epic feel that is rare in single-player games and brings a whole chapter of TES lore alive. There is an almost cinematic feel to the writing that makes me think of the best of the epic movies. The entire set up for the upcoming battle brings an added depth to something that could be so one-dimensional, and hints at the strategy that is involved in commanding armies.

It was good, no great, to read this again.

[Winter Wolf]

Wow, amazing chapter. You have taken a single player world and made it epic in size and scope. Very few people can pull this off with your perfect commandment of language.

I loved the way Arctus rode his horse over the hill, past the garrisons and catapults. The pace and description there was awesome. I can visualize the bodies of dogs and wolves so easily. All we need is creaking of the ropes as the launch position is adjusted. Better than a Scud missile really.

[canis216]

Truly fantastic work. A clever bit of plotting by Talos (as one would expect from such a renowned strategist), fabulous incorporation of Ysmir (though I thought he might have called Talos "Hjalti" or "Early-Beard"), some nice foreshadowing, and some excellent setting of the scene. Well done.

[Olen]

I'll second the fantsatic work remark, that last scene really came alive. The portrayal of the camp was excellent, as was the inclusion of the more cloak and dagger side of the battle (which I'm rather looking forward to).

“Khajiit see in the dark, Captain.” - this line was excellent, it fitted very well and brought home the strangness of the setting.

More?

[Destri Melarg]

SubRosa - I knew that the ratio of the Roman Century was usually 80 men to 20 slaves, but I did not know about the contubernium. I chose to make the Cyrodiilic Century 100 men because there are no slaves in Cyrodiil, strictly speaking; also because, as a simply selfish indulgence, I liked the idea of using the term ‘century’ instead of ‘company’.

Thank you for making the distinction between Brazier and Brassiere, I’m just glad that it is not something that I have to address too often.

haute ecole – I am so glad that you are enjoying this second read through. I know that we share the same concern, that those who have read this before will get bored slogging through it a second time. In the case of Julian, know that I am enjoying reading her adventures through main quest Oblivion even more now than before. It is nice to know that you are enjoying Interregnum.

Winter Wolf – Thank you, Wolf. Isn’t it interesting, for more than two thousand years catapults were the pinnacle of heavy weapons technology. Then, in the space of less than a century, we are able to advance to Scud missiles. What changed? Well, it’s obvious really . . . Aliens!

Canis216 – Welcome to Interregnum! Thank you for the comments. You’re absolutely right, Ysmir would know Talos as ‘Hjalti Early-Beard’ if you subscribe to the Arcturian Heresy (which this story does, in a round about kind of way). Ysmir uses the title ‘Stormcrown’ in an almost mocking, sarcastic way. He knows the truth behind Talos’ thu’um (and so will all of you by the end of this chapter), and he goes out of his way to make sure that Talos doesn’t forget it.

Olen – Thank you for the kind words, here is the ‘more’ that you requested.

_____

12th Morning Star, 2E 854
Fort Black Boot, Near Cyrodiil’s Border with Elsweyr
Dusk


They were winding up a path northeast of the General’s camp when Flavius Livia reined his horse. “What are we stopping for?” He asked.

“I want to see the battle,” Ondereos answered. He dismounted and led his horse through the trees to the edge of a steep hill overlooking the valley.

Livia snorted. “Battle? More like massacre I’d say.”

“I still want to see it.” Ondereos wound the horse’s reins around the trunk of a tree. Then he removed his bow and sat down. He reached into his pack and pulled out a hardened piece of venison that made a ripping sound when he bit into it.

“Mara’s teets, I got men to pay!” Livia said.

I should kill you both and take your gold, Dar’Zhan thought to himself. “As do I,” he said. He rode with his son holding his waist.

“As do we all, but they’ll wait. Don’t tell me you’re not curious.” Ondereos ripped another piece from his venison.

“Wonder how curious you’d be if it were a bunch of fetchers in that fort,” said Livia as he shifted his mace. All the same, his horse began to move toward the edge of the hill.

Ondereos smiled. “In that case, I’d still be riding to Bravil.”

“Alone, with night falling? Thank you, no.” He dismounted and tied down his horse. He moved next to Ondereos. “I don’t want to see my countrymen torn apart by a bunch of dirty cats!” He closed his eyes. “No offense, Dar’Zhan.”

Coward! You’re lucky I don’t slit your belly open for that insult. “None taken,” he said. He smiled at the human. He would not act upon his impulses. Not here, not in front of K’Sharra. The Khajiit must be the best deceivers, for they must always hide their nature from the children of Ahnurr. Clan Mother’s words, he knew them by heart. He had taught them to his son, as he had been taught by his own father many years ago.

He swung his leg over the horse’s neck and dismounted. He heard the jingle of his purse when he hit the ground. First the soldiers pay me, he thought, and now I watch them die. He lifted his son off the saddle and set him on the ground. When the battle is over, K’Sharra and I will go down to the fort and collect whatever treasure we can. He tied his horse to a ragged stump near the path. That will make me twice paid for one job. He held K’Sharra’s hand and led him to the edge of the hill.

“After the battle Khajiit won’t be popular in Bravil,” he said, “you two should go on without us.” Baan Dar smiles upon my cleverness.

“That’s so,” said Livia, “I don’t want to be seen with no Khajiit after the garrison is taken.”

“He probably wants us out of the way so he can raid the fort,” said Ondereos.

Stupid clever fetcher! “They would not welcome me down there.”

“I still don’t know why you go against your own people,” said Livia

“Because I got paid,” said Dar’Zhan, and the only ones who know will soon be dead . . . except for you two.

“Quiet,” said Ondereos, “I think it’s starting.”

From their vantage point they could see for miles in the fading light. To the south, beyond the line of trees in the distance, the Khajiit forces began to move. Like an uncoiling snake, the great mass of troops marched north toward the border.

To the east a horn blew from the fort. The garrison filled the courtyard and the gates were shut and barricaded. Archers appeared along the battlements.

To the west a lone rider emerged from the General’s camp and rode hard to the east. The horse flew past the catapults and disappeared into the grove of trees. In the space of four heartbeats horse and rider reappeared at the other side of the grove and galloped downhill toward the fort.

“That’s the Battlemage,” said Ondereos, pointing at the rider, “I wonder what he’s going to do.”

Stupid fetcher! “You should go down and ask him.” Said Dar’Zhan.

_____

Zurin Arctus waited while the gate was opened. Inside he passed through the garrison. Some of the men had boyish faces, eager eyes wide with anticipation and fear. Others, more hardened, had eyes clear and understanding, resigned to their fate yet determined to see it through. Still others, eyes darting and searching, gathered around the solemn priests who gave hurried prayers to Mara and Stendarr. He ignored them all as he crossed through the courtyard and walked up the steps to the watchtower.

Outside, the first drops of rain began to fall from storm clouds streaked with red. The air was thick with the harsh smell of burning pitch. To the south vengeful shadows began to form at the tree line. The plaintive wail from the metal bars of the native Khajiit instrument carried on the wind.

“They’ll have to cover an acre of open ground to reach the walls, sir,” said Captain Itinius who greeted Arctus with a salute, “as per orders we tarred the stakes with pitch before we put them into the trenches.”

“Very good, Captain,” said Arctus. The board is set, now it’s up to the General, he thought.

“Even with all that I’m afraid it’s only a matter of time before they overwhelm us, Sir.”

“Have you ever fought Khajiit, Captain?”

“I’ve fought the occasional cat here and there, sir, but never anything like this.”

Arctus walked to the edge so that he could see the anxious faces of the garrison.

“Legionnaires,” he began. His voice carried throughout the fort. The garrison, to a man, stopped what they were doing and lent their eyes and ears to the watchtower. “Tonight is meant to be the night of all our deaths. That may be our fate, only the Gods can say. But if it be our fate, let us leave behind a reason for future generations to consecrate this place as holy ground. Let us make them remember that on a night when savage beasts dared to invade the border of our realm the brave garrison of Fort Black Boot held the line!”

Itinius drew his sword and raised it high. “Ordo Legionis!” he cried.

As one the garrison raised sword, spear, and bow. “Ordo Legionis!” rang throughout the valley.

_____

The first Khajiit wave consisted of the Alfiq. Several hundred creatures, housecats to the archers manning the wall, broke through the trees and ran toward the fort.

“Archers!” Itinius raised his hand, but the Battlemage placed a hand on his shoulder. The Captain turned.

“Don’t waste the arrows,” Arctus said.

Itinius lowered his hand and turned back to the field. He saw what the Battlemage meant. The Alfiq moved far too swiftly for the archers. They leaped over the rows of trenches and closed the distance to the walls.

“We could fire the trenches,” Itinius said.

“Not yet. Bring the pitch to the walls.”

Itinius barked the order and seconds later the steaming pots were being passed along the battlements. The first wave of Alfiq reached the walls and, claws unsheathed, began to leap and climb, hissing and spitting at the archers above.

“Let’s give these cats a bath,” Arctus said.

The order was repeated, and the pots were upended; boiling pitch ran down the length of the walls. The screaming of the Alfiq cut through the falling rain as the sticky resin burned through fur and skin.

“Torches,” Arctus ordered.

Itinius repeated the order. Lit torches were passed to the archers, who flung them on the boiling cats below. A curtain of flame spread along the length of the wall, consuming the first wave of Alfiq while forming a barrier that the second wave could not penetrate.

A great cheer went up from the archers, who raised their bows high for the second time that night. The cheer carried to the men in the courtyard, who beat spears and swords against their shields. Itinius smiled through his helmet, his pride showed in the way he lifted his chest and pulled his shoulders back. Even the Battlemage allowed himself a moment to savor the frustrated wails of the Alfiq below. He considered giving the order to fire the first trench, which would trap the Alfiq between two flame walls. Not yet, he told himself, not yet.

_____

The second Khajiit wave consisted of the Ohmes. Bipedal creatures resembling Bosmer left the shadows of the trees. They closed the distance in great bounds that made them look as if they were floating. Behind them their larger cousins, the Ohmes-raht, followed. These, alone among the Khajiit, walked on the heels instead of the balls of their feet. Some, hands glowing, threw spell bolts toward the archers. The cheering stopped as the archers crouched beneath the parapet for protection.

“Spellcasters!” Itinius ducked under the path of a purple ball of magic that disappeared into the clouds behind them.

The Ohmes drew closer. In the glare of the dying flames it was possible to see the tattoos of cat aspect that adorned their faces.

Arctus stepped forward. He raised his hands toward the heavens. The cowering archers along the wall saw the air around the Battlemage glow and spark, growing brighter as he drew more power from Aetherius.

He lowered his arms toward the field and a web of lightning spread halfway to the trees. Any of the Khajiit host caught in the radius of the spell began to twitch and spasm. Some were thrown into the trenches where they were impaled on the tarred stakes. Others fell to the ground, their bodies smoldering.

The rain began to fall harder, as if called down by the lightning. It doused the curtain of flame before the wall. In the dim light of a few stubborn torches the Khajiit bodies littered the field. A second cheer erupted from the archers as they rose to re-man their posts. The men in the courtyard could not see the battle, but they fed off their comrade’s elation. All eyes were drawn to the Battlemage, and for a brief instant every stout heart was buoyed by the same impossible thought. We may yet survive this night.

“Archers!” The Battlemage yelled. His voice brought them back to themselves.

The bulk of the Khajiit host broke the tree line and began to spread across the field. In the darkness the men on the wall could only see the outlines and the occasional glint of their blades. Thousands of the leather clad Suthay-raht wielded spears, bows, or sharpened claws. Hundreds of the fierce Cathay-raht, swords in hand, sat aboard their Senche Tigers, each larger than a grizzly. There were many other Khajiit that no man had ever seen.

“Merciful Stendarr,” Itinius whispered.

Arctus turned his head to the west.

_____

A hundred men had been assigned to man the catapults. Another four hundred men waited, armored, mounted, and ready. Five hundred pairs of eyes followed the armored form of General Talos as his white horse cantered up the hill.

Captain Alorius held a torch and waited near the catapults. “They’re being set upon pretty good down there, but so far they’ve held their own.”

The armored head nodded and took the torch from him. He spurred his horse forward to survey the field.

The Khajiit host flooded the entirety of the field in front of the fort. The archers on the wall were firing at will. Yet for each foe that fell another, larger and closer, took its place.

Alorius turned his horse and rode back through the lines of mounted men all facing Fort Black Boot. He spurred his horse down the hill and weaved around the abandoned tents to the center of the camp. He dismounted in front of General Talos’ tent. He turned back toward the top of the hill and, satisfied that he was not observed, unbuttoned the tent flap and stepped inside.

A single candle cast a tremulous light inside the tent. General Talos sat in his golden chair studying a map of the valley spread on the floor in front of him. In his right hand he held a silver goblet that he absently twirled between thumb and forefinger. He looked up as Alorius entered.

Alorius held himself at attention and saluted. “Sir, we are in position. The garrison repelled the first two Khajiit waves, but now the bulk of their host has taken the field.”

“Very well, Captain,” said Talos, “tell Ysmir that he may begin.”

“Yes sir.” Alorius turned, and hesitated.

“What is it, Captain?”

“Apologies, sir,” said Alorius, turning back to face his general.

“Ask your question.”

“Yes sir. It’s Ysmir, sir. I have seen him stand beside you any number of times since Sancre Tor and I still don’t understand how he manages to fit into your armor.”

Talos allowed himself an indulgent smile. “Let’s just say that Ysmir is more than he appears. Now go, I cannot afford to lose Arctus to an army of housecats.”

“Sir,” Alorius repeated his salute and left the tent. He refastened the buttons of the tent flap and mounted his waiting horse. He rode back up the hill, past anxious horses and men who were watching the battle unfold in the valley below them. Ysmir turned in his saddle at Alorius’ approach.

By the Eight, Alorius thought, with the helmet on even his face looks like the General’s. Ysmir’s eyes flashed in the light of the torch that he held. Alorius’ nod was almost imperceptible. Ysmir turned to the battlefield, a smile spreading across his face.

His shoulders rose, his chest expanded. From behind it looked as if he began to grow. His back strained against the sides of his cuirass. He held up an armored hand. The teams manning the catapults loaded the wolf carcasses into the slings and lit their torches.

When it seemed as if he would bust through the seams of Talos' armor he opened his mouth and allowed his thu’um to pierce the air.

_____

Nothing in their experience had prepared the men of Fort Black Boot for the sheer power that sound could have. It covered the battlefield and the fort and caused the ears to bleed. A few of the archers along the wall were lifted bodily by it, and thrown screaming to the courtyard below.

“By the Gods!” Itinius covered his ears with both hands.

For the Khajiit the sound was worse. Many of the Ohmes and Alfiq could not stand before the hurricane force of the sound wave that washed over them. They were thrown into the dark trenches or swept away entirely. Even the Cathay-raht dropped their swords and covered their ears. Certain victory melted into confusion. The great thu’um finally grew silent. The fort was forgotten as the horde of Khajiit looked to find the source of the sound.

And then it began to rain burning wolves.

Confusion gave way to panic. The burning wolves killed whatever they landed on. Those that did not land on Khajiit landed in the trenches, igniting them into great canals of flame that engulfed any nearby. The screams of the dead and dying filled the air. The Khajiit host was broken. By the thousands they fled back toward the border screaming as wave after wave of the burning wolves fell around them.

A great battle cry was heard from the west. General Talos led four hundred legionnaires that burst through the grove and galloped toward the remaining Khajiit. Many of those that remained on the field threw themselves into the trenches to escape the demon riders. Others were simply ridden down.

It was over quickly after that. Silence descended on the battlefield. The only sound was the hiss of the rain as it slowly doused the trenches. General Talos rode his white horse to the front of the fort, where every man in the garrison could see him. He lifted his bloody sword in triumph.

“Ordo Legionis!” cried the garrison, “Ordo Legionis!”

_____

It took a while for K’Sharra to realize that his father was talking to him.

“K’Sharra, come back to me. We must be going.”

Slowly his eyes focused. He was back on the hillside. Down in the valley the storm had moved to the east. Smoke rose from the battlefield, many small fires still burned.

His cheeks were wet. His father took his hand and led him toward the horses. His father now wore a bow and a mace. He tripped over the splayed leg of the Bosmer and he tumbled. His father helped him back to his feet. He looked at his hands. They were stained with blood, but he was not cut. He was lifted up and put onto the Bosmer’s horse. His father had three purses of gold.

They were still there. He could feel the sound in his head. He could see the burning wolves when he closed his eyes. They rode back to the winding path. He turned and looked past the dead man and the dead elf to the valley. He knew those wolves would follow him for the rest of his life.

[mALX]

ARGH! Always a bridesmaid, never a bride!



This chapter rocks me to the core every time I read or re-read it. The first time I read it, I kept going back over and over it again, the same thing happened this time.


This post has been edited by mALX: Apr 6 2010, 10:35 PM

[SubRosa]

Excellent battle! Quite the bit of trickery on the part of Talos, down to Ysmir impersonating him. Now we see the reason for him putting up with Ysmir. I wonder how long that will last? Until he has Tamriel conquered I suppose. Or most of it.

Using Dar’Zhan to show us the beginning and end was an excellent touch. I especially liked the fact that he was expecting the Imperials to lose, and now has to live with how he helped make the conquest of his country possible.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Apr 7 2010, 01:56 AM

[haute ecole rider]

The rain of burning wolves puts me in mind of the K'Sharra prophecy (Sheogorath's Shrine quest), and the fact that a young kit named K'Sharra witnessed this battle makes me wonder - hmmm?

This is the second part of a standout chapter, as far as I am concerned. The two chapters are so powerful together they cannot be taken separately. The description of the battle has the same epic feel of the battle at Helm's Deep in Lord of the Rings, the same power of the small garrison versus the horde, the sense of desperation and determination that is so palpable among the Legionaries.

I am enjoying the second reading tremendously!

[Winter Wolf]

We know that a hundred different civilizations are buried beneath the sands of Elsweyr. Very cool that you took the time to describe some of the countless Khajiit cousins that inhabit those shifting sands.
Awesome.

The battle scene was amazing, epic in its scale. I liked the very calm way Arctus said "Don't waste the arrows." His clarity of thinking carried the moment and kept the focus on the task at hand. Panic is the worst enemy of a soldier.

[Olen]

Epic. This really had the feel of something huge and cinematic which is difficult but you nailed it. The short parts helped I think and also gave a view on the smaller scale. I agree with Huate that this put me in mind of helms deep in terms of atmosphere, though the burning wolves and traps were a excellent addition. As was the inclusion of the other forms of Khajit which never really make an appearance elsewhere. Along with the Thu'um you certainly did you're homework on this one.

And I like seeing the seeds of the K'Sharra prophecy, a nice touch whether it develops further or not.

Great opening, I'm utterly hooked now.

[Acadian]

Yes, as you always do, this is epic. Wow!

[minque]

Ohhh this is BIG! I'm stunned. Like Olen said it really has some huge cinematic aura....

I'm so impressed!

[Destri Melarg]

mALX – Thank you. Rocking you to the core is something that I always strive to do!

ARGH! Always a bridesmaid, never a bride!

Not really sure what you meant here. Are you referring to Ysmir?


SubRosa – Ysmir and Talos have an almost symbiotic relationship. Each is greatly lessened without the other. Talos has no hope of gaining the Cyrodiilic throne without the loyalty of Skyrim, who see him as Stormcrown thanks to Ysmir’s thu’um. Ysmir needs an army so that he can invade Morrowind and destroy the Tribunal, but he doesn’t have the name to gain the loyalty of any troops, and none of the Kings or Warlords of his time would be willing to devote troops to such a nebulous cause.

Dar’Zhan does find himself in a precarious situation. One that I have plans to play with in the future.


haute – As I once told mALX, I like to think that Sheogorath drew inspiration from watching this battle. Think about it, ten thousand Khajiit defeated by a rain of burning wolves, if that isn’t pure madness what is?

And Helm’s Deep? Wow, what a compliment! Thank you.


Winter Wolf – I am glad that you picked up on Arctus’ demeanor throughout the battle. I wanted to capture the self-assured, deliberate attitude of the man who would go on to write The Art of War Magic.


Olen – Epic and cinematic are exactly what I am going for with this story. I am happy that it came across well. Hopefully the quiet moments of reflection before the next storm come across just as well. Thanks.


Acadian – HUZZAH!!! A hearty welcome back to everyone’s favorite paladin! I am so glad that you happened by for this chapter. The re-writes were prompted by your comments on the other board. I hope that this incarnation of the battle reads less confusing than the other, and I hope that I have made who and what Ysmir is somewhat clearer.


minqué – Thank you so much, I am honored that you took the time to read it. Given the number of excellent stories on this board I do not envy you the task of trying to keep up with them all. And, given the frequency in which some of us post updates, it is too easy to find oneself coming back to a favorite thread only to find that you are three chapters behind.

* * *

13th Morning Star, 2E 854
Fort Black Boot, Near Cyrodiil’s Border with Elsweyr
Morning


At dawn the garrison was deployed policing the Khajiit bodies in front of the fort. They worked with a renewed energy and purpose, converting the ash filled trenches into mass graves. The sounds of stripped bodies stacked upon one another and the scrape of shovels against loose soil marked the early morning hours. By the time the sun shone through the eastern storm clouds only the blood soaking the ground still told of the battle.

In a tent erected over the mass graves of his countrymen the Khajiit Shaman Ri’Dargo and his retinue met with General Talos and his staff under a banner of truce.

“We are here to discuss an end to hostilities,” said Ri’Dargo. He and his retinue sat on cushions against the far wall of the tent. A table laden with sweetcakes, wine and cheese had been set on a table before them. “I have also been instructed by the Mane to inquire as to the intentions of the fleet you have outside of Torval.”

Lord Richton disobeyed orders. Zurin Arctus thought to himself. He sat next to General Talos at the opposite end of the table. Captain Alorius stood guard near the entrance to the tent.

General Talos smiled. “An end to hostilities, not a Khajiit surrender?”

Ri’Dargo returned the General’s smile. “Our attack was repelled last night, but we were not defeated. If we were to re-engage tonight I think you would find the outcome . . .”

“Re-engage with what, Lord Ri’Dargo?” asked General Talos. “My scouts tell me that the bulk of your host has fled halfway to Senchal. The rest lie under your feet.”

The Shaman’s retinue shifted in their chairs. Ri’Dargo stared at the stains seeping through the floor of the tent.

“Our terms are simple,” continued Talos, “your army must remain in Elsweyr, and there can be no further hostilities anywhere along Cyrodiil’s border. Tell your Mane that the fleet will be withdrawn once the border is clear.

“And what of your army?” Ri’Dargo took a sweetcake from the plate between them. He turned it over in his clawed fingers as if trying to glean from it some great secret.

Talos raised his eyebrows, “my army?”

Ri’Dargo placed the sweetcake back on the plate. “Indeed. Once we remove our forces, what is to stop your army from invading Elsweyr?”

“Need I remind Lord Ri’Dargo that any hostilities have been instigated by the Khajiit. We have no desire to invade Elsweyr.”

“So you say now, but your people speak of Empire. At what point will the Khajiit be forced to acknowledge your sovereignty?” His eyes met those of General Talos. “Your name is known to us, General Talos, as is your ambition. You do your Emperor’s bidding for now, but that won’t always be the case.”

That was unnecessary, thought Arctus.

“My ambition,” said Talos, “is not a subject that is open for discussion. Considering the circumstances, Lord Ri'Dargo, I would advise you to mind your tongue. You want assurances that I can not give you. Yes we speak of Empire, and yes there may come a day when we seek to annex Elsweyr. But when that day comes we will seek to do so by treaty, not force.”

“I apologize, General, I meant no offence. Our ways are not yours. We of the Khajiit value ambition, in much the same way that we value courage and daring. We find it hard to distinguish between the three. I meant only to impress upon you that Imperial Promises have not always been kind to Elsweyr.”

Talos lifted the sweetcake off of the plate and placed it in front of Ri’Dargo. “Then consider it a personal promise. And, as a show of good faith, I give the Khajiit leave to build a settlement somewhere along the border.”

Ri’Dargo regarded the sweetcake. “A settlement?” His retinue began to whisper amongst themselves.

“Yes,” said Talos, “a kind of ‘border watch’ that can act as Elsweyr’s first line of defense in the event of any Imperial aggression.” Talos leaned back in his chair. “Of course, I can always give Lord Richton the order to attack.” He turned to Zurin Arctus. “With an army here and a fleet at Torval we can begin the annexation of Elsweyr immediately.”

The Khajiit retinue fell silent. Ri’Dargo lifted the sweetcake and took a bite.

“There will be an end to hostilities,” he said, “I must take this message to the Mane.”

_____

Captain Itinius was left in charge of the garrison at Fort Black Boot. General Talos and five hundred men began their long journey back to the Imperial City. The General, aboard his white stallion, rode at the head of the column flanked by Ysmir and Zurin Arctus.

Captain Alorius reined his horse even with Zurin Arctus’. “Sir, might I ask a question?”

“What is it, Captain?” asked Arctus.

“This battle we fought, it wasn’t against the Khajiit was it?”

Arctus reined his horse to allow their conversation to continue in private. “Explain yourself, Captain.”

“Well, sir,” Alorius stopped himself. He watched General Talos.

“Speak freely, Captain.” Said the Battlemage.

“Yes sir. All of the General’s dispatches go through me. He never sent for the reserve force from Skyrim.”

Arctus turned to regard the young Captain. “Why wouldn’t he, Captain?”

“Sir, the Skyrim forces are already loyal to the General, sir. When word of this battle spreads he’ll win the loyalty of a large chunk of the Colovian forces.”

“You believe that the General works against his Emperor, Captain?”

“Sir, my loyalty is to my General.” He lowered his voice. “I am not suggesting anything treasonous, sir. I’m just trying to make sense of what happened back there.”

“I see,” said Arctus, “and you’ve come to the conclusion that General Talos used this border dispute to win the loyalty of the legion away from the Emperor?”

Alorius straightened in his saddle. “Yes sir.”

“An interesting theory, Captain, and a dangerous one were it to be repeated.”

“As I said, sir, my loyalty lies with my General.” He pounded his chest in salute and eased his horse down the ranks.

Arctus spurred his horse back into formation.

“Alorius is uncommonly bright,” said General Talos, “he will have a very bright future in the years to come.”

“If he can remain loyal, General,” said Arctus.

“It’s in his best interest to remain loyal. I’m more concerned with Lord Richton’s disregard for orders.”

“Yes General,” said Arctus. “Do you believe the Khajiit will keep the peace?”

“It doesn’t really matter,” said Talos, “they’ll be hard pressed to raise another force like that one. For now we’ve cleared our southern border and bought ourselves time.”

“And maneuvered the Emperor into a corner.”

“Yes. He cannot refuse this Khajiit settlement without antagonizing the Mane, and he cannot move against me after such a glorious victory. As you say, he finds himself in a corner.”

“Yes General,” said Arctus, “but don’t forget. Animals are most dangerous when cornered.”


The year continues in Sun’s Dawn

This post has been edited by Destri Melarg: May 6 2010, 02:19 AM