Old Habits Die Hard Part Three, The old dog practices new habits Options

[mALX]

ARGH! Finally she is going to get her knee fixed - AND JAUFFRE IS DAMIEN "FOXY" REYNARD !!!!!! All it lacked was him pointing to a spot on that report and he could have been FOXY !!!!!!! AWESOME !!!!!!!!!!


Now that is what we would expect from the head of the Blades, AND he gave Julian her dignity back.

I LOVE THIS CHAPTER !!!!!!!!!

This post has been edited by mALX: Sep 5 2010, 05:46 PM

[Acadian]

Lots of background filled in here. I'm impressed with Jauffre's network of intelligence. It would seem appropriate for the head of the Blades, and is a wonderful tool to help flesh out our modest Julian.

You also make it clear that Martin does indeed have a past. His knowledge of Daedra and sigil stones is impressive.

I loved using the flashback to introduce the horror of clannfears and the loss of Julian's shield. Unless I'm reading too much into things, it also hints at how Julian is growing in her game. Clannfears (or their runts) imply a character with a few levels behind them.

I'm so pleased that it seems our poor hero may finally get some significant relief for that knee.

Wonderful, Rider!

[SubRosa]

formerly a munifex in the Legio I
This little passage just sings with flavor. Adding in these little touches of specific titles make the setting come alive in a way that saying "a soldier" just cannot.

So now we see where Julian got so badly beaten up. I had assumed that most of those five Oblivion gates came on the way back to Cloud Ruler. Your decision to revisit them in flashback rather than slog through each one before writing Julian's return to Cloud Ruler was wise. It would have gotten very repetitive, very fast (as it does playing the game!). You gave us the best part as well, showing how Julian got her knee re-injured, and the destruction of the Kvatch Wolf. I am going to miss it.

“Your knee is at a point now that you’re laid up anyway, whether you like it or not,”
I love characters who just tell it like it is!

Finally, you bring us to the long-anticipated moment of truth for Julian's knee. I have been waiting for this for a while. Your rationale for why it healed badly in the first place was imho perfect, and believable in a fantasy setting. I am sure as a vet you often see it in bones that are not set properly as well. I have seen dinosaur bones like that, and the way the new growth comes around the old it looks like it must have been incredibly painful for the animal.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Sep 6 2010, 05:03 PM

[treydog]

You managed to save Jauffre from a fate worse than having to deal with Edward (and Docada). And not only has he been keeping up with her current activities- he has been planning for the complete healing of her knee.

This was another one where I liked everything about it. I agree that the flash-back method of giving the highlights of the Gates is quite effective. And there is something about the sheer number- and the tangible proof of the sigil stones- that makes us feel the weight and weariness of going into those gates and fighting through to the towers.

And you do a wonderfully oblique job of showing a hint of Martin's background.

In your capable hands, the Blades have become the sort of apparatus that Morrowind hinted at...

[Olen]

Now there was some development of Julian. I liked Jauffre using his spy network to draw out mroe of what she did, and the way she admitted to helping the poor and closing gates and the like as if it was something she should appologise for was priceless. That seam of subtle humour really made this part shine.

And now the knee is to be repaired, and about time if she's meeting clanfears (a cleverly subtle way of showing that she is becoming more skilled).

“It’s fine for skin, bone and muscles, but tendons and ligaments need more time.”

Infuriatingly true.

I'm looking forward to her resting up in Cloud Ruler too, if your first description of it was anything to go by this should be a treat in the character line. Certainly the interplay between Jauffre, Julian and Martin is excellent. And I suspect she'll be getting a new shield and bow (though she should really consider fireshield as an enchantment).

One vauge nit:
Martin, Baurus and Steffan withdrew as the pair drew near - the double use of drew sort of jarred but that might be more to do with my obsession with the like.

This post has been edited by Olen: Sep 5 2010, 09:19 PM

[Remko]

Pfff. tell me about it, dislocated my left shoulder nearly 10 years ago and it's still painful every once in a while..
Loved it H.E.R.

[haute ecole rider]

@hazmick: You’ve nailed it! Jauffre plays his cards very close to his vest.

@mALX: Funny, Foxy wasn’t on my mind when I wrote that chapter. Jauffre was growling at me and complaining that I wasn’t giving him enough meat! This whole dialogue was my compromise! Okay, Foxy, go ahead with the Dhertee Inn Uendos!

@Acadian: Yes, Martin is a veritable fount of Daedra lore. And yes, the clannfears are a hint at Julian’s level of gameplay, though I’m not following the leveling up process faithfully at all (I find it rather artificial). I knew you would be glad to see Cirroc offering to heal that bum knee for once and for all!

@SubRosa: I am so NOT going to describe every Gate Julian and I slogged through! They all kind of blur together, you know? Except for a couple of gates where she actually has company, and of course the last one. The damage to Julian’s knee is actually to the tendons and ligaments, not the bones. The knee is one of those things where it’s useless without the ligaments, yet those ligaments are the weak points in the entire thing. A torn cruciate ligament is the most common limb injury we see in dogs. And yes, fractures will heal no matter what, and they will often heal crooked. Of course it hurts while the bone is healing, and every time it’s going to rain . . . As for losing the Kvatch Wolf, well, the shield is gone, but the wolf isn’t.

@treydog: I’m glad you liked everything about that last segment. Julian still doesn’t understand what compelled her to save every one of those damn stones, but Martin just told her why they are so gosh darn valuable! Once I learned what the Blades did in TES III, I wondered why they were less than useless in TES IV. So I made them into the US Secret Service, which consists of so much more than the bodyguards with the sunglasses and earpieces we see around the President (those guys are just the tip of the iceberg, IMHO).

@Olen: I’m glad you enjoyed this chapter so far. I hope to let you see more of Cloud Ruler Temple over the next couple of installments.

@Remko: My vet knowledge tells me that while dogs and horses can recover from fractures and go on to have active lives, those who injure tendons and ligaments are pretty much crippled (in varying degrees) forever. Ugh.

The healing process turns out to be more involved than Julian suspected.

*******************
Chapter 15.3 A Dream of Home

The sight of the tiny black knife, ominous in the way it caught the firelight, made me shudder.”I’m used to pain, but -”

“Selena will make a potion to render you unconscious for the time I need to clean this up,” Cirroc assured me. “All I need is your permission, and -” he glanced past me at Jauffre, “plenty of hot water.”

I felt Jauffre’s hand land heavily on my right shoulder, as he leaned down to my right ear. “Emperor Uriel laid a heavy burden on you, Julian,” he whispered. My gaze slid past his hand to where Martin sat at his study table, head propped up on his fist, eyes on one of a growing pile of books. “You need to be strong to bear it.” Jauffre finished, withdrawing his hand and stepping back.

He’s right. I have to last long enough to see Martin made Emperor, and the Jaws of Oblivion closed forever. If I can’t walk, can’t fight - With a deep breath, I felt something coil in my gut. But can’t someone else do it? Can’t Jauffre assign someone else? My eyes slid over to Baurus, standing in his accustomed place behind Martin. As if I had spoken his name aloud, Baurus’s impassive head turned and he returned my gaze, his expression inscrutable in the torch light. Baurus is Martin’s bodyguard, he can’t leave Martin, ever. And didn’t Martin say there were several parts to the Xarxes ritual? He would need more ingredients.

The exhaustion heavy in my bones, I closed my eyes. Akatosh, I’ve served you for twenty-five years. Aren’t I finished? Can’t I find peace? Again that coiling in my belly stirred in response. I realized that it was the same coiling I had felt when I prayed to Akatosh for healing, back in Bravil. Is it you, Akatosh, that I feel down deep inside me? Nothing stirred in response to my question. With a sigh, I opened my eyes and looked at Cirroc, still waiting patiently.

“Orania, what’s in that potion he was talking about?” I asked, keeping my gaze on the healer.

“It’s a basic paralysis potion with the added effect of sleep and pain relief,” Orania told me. I shook my head.

“But what’s in it?” I pressed.

“Fly amanita cap, lavender sprig, willow bark, and lophophora, from the Alik’r Desert,” Orania frowned at my insistence, puzzled.

“I’m an addict,” I explained. “I can’t have any drink or skooma.”

“There is nothing addictive about my potions,” Orania drew herself up angrily. “No good alchemist would use anything so vile!”

For a second there, I recognized my mother in her stance. Like Orania, she had been proud of her alchemy skills, her ability to mix potions that had powerful effects without causing harm. Swallowing back the twinge Mother’s memory had stirred, I looked back at Cirroc.

“Let’s do it, then,” I said quietly.

“It will take about thirty minutes to prepare the potion,” Orania knelt beside her pack, taking out and inspecting ingredient packets, setting aside the ones she needed “Perhaps Cirroc can heal that broken nose of yours.”

Cirroc smiled at her gentle nudging and nodded agreement. “I can certainly do that,” he laid gentle fingertips on my smashed nose and gently manipulated the fragments back into place, the warmth from his fingers reaching deep into my nasal bones. My eyes closed, and I inhaled deeply through my nose for the first time since the Wolf broke it. As the bones fused, Cirroc’s fingers trailed over the gash left by the broken shield in my lip and chin. In spite of myself, I flinched back from his intimate touch. I opened my eyes, but Cirroc’s neutral gaze calmed me.

“Tell me, what is your favorite memory?” he said quietly. I considered his request thoughtfully.

“Playing with my brother in the hills outside Anvil,” I answered. “We had a small farm on a bluff overlooking the Strid River and the Abecean Sea.” I closed my eyes. “My brother was a year older than I, and a little bossy at times. But he shared what he learned with me, from bow hunting, to sneaking up on deer.” I paused, lost in long-forgotten memories. “He apprenticed to Varel Morvayn, the smith, in Anvil, when he was older. Mother would send me into town with lunch for him. Sometimes I would go to the Mages Guild and buy alchemical ingredients for her, whatever we didn’t grow on our own.”

I fell silent, as Cirroc worked to heal my minor injuries, all my cuts and scrapes, the swelling over my left knuckles, the ache in my spine. Orania worked at the fireplace, where Captain Steffan kept her well supplied with hot water. Finally, she took the final product and poured it into a clean mug.

I took the proffered mug and swirled the clear fluid thoughtfully. The odor was strong, reminding me of dust and dry mold. I looked suspiciously up at Orania.

“I’m sorry, if I had more time, I’d take the smell and the taste away,” she said. “But that refining process takes days.”

Taking a deep breath and holding it, I took the full amount into my mouth. I managed to gag the vile taste down before my stomach could reject it. Gods, that was as bad as Maulhand’s stew! Bile rose in my throat, and I coughed, fighting to keep it down. The first thing I noticed was a growing numbness in my stomach, which moved rapidly up my throat into my mouth. It spread out from my belly through my body at a slower pace. My limbs grew heavy, my breathing slowed down, and my vision dimmed.

Cirroc laid a hand on my forehead. “Sleep, Julian,” he said softly, “sleep.”

“Sleep, sleep,” that soothing voice faded away. My sight cleared, and I found myself standing in tall grass, sere and amber in the late afternoon sun. Soft salty air moved against my face, stirring golden waves around me that mirrored the blue and silver waves on the ocean below. The breeze caused my white hair to whip around my face as I turned slowly around to look back at my home, the small farmstead. In the little field in front of the cottage, a slight figure hoed among the profusion of blooms and foliage. I could feel the heat of the sun on my shoulders, see the beautiful colors of the flowers, taste the brine off the ocean, and smell the scent of aloe vera and bergamot. The chiming of the Chapel bells struck the hour. Four bells in the afternoon.

My eyes on the slight figure, I waded through the tall grass toward the farmstead. The woman straightened up, shading her eyes with her hand as she looked towards the ocean. My heart skipped. Mother always looked towards Anvil Harbor every day, when the Chapel bells rang four times. She never said why she did this, but I always felt the disappointment that renewed each afternoon.

I held my breath as I drew closer. Yes, there was that familiar supple back, the thick, wiry, black hair held back in a heavy knot at the nape of the woman’s neck with a turquoise ribbon, the thin silver band that encircled her right wrist, the bracelet Mother never took off, even when she bathed.

The door to the cottage opened, and a tall youth stepped out, his gaze on the woman. My hands went to my mouth as I stared at my handsome brother. He looked just as he had the last time I saw him, when he was seventeen going on eighteen, beginning to fill out from his apprenticeship with Morvayn. Unaware of my presence, he walked to the slim woman, laying his right arm affectionately across her shoulders and leaning down to kiss her cheek. As he straightened up, his gaze moved northward, towards me.

My feet moved me towards the garden, compelled by some strange hope. “Cieran?” I whispered, brushing the strands of white hair back from my face. My hand stopped its motion at my temple. No, it can’t be. My hair should be black, as black as Mother’s -

The woman turned around, and I found myself running forward, into her outstretched arms. “Mother!” As we hugged each other, I felt Cieran’s arms enfold both of us in his bear hug. I found myself laughing, carefree for the first time in so many years. Years? Catching my breath, I leaned back to look at Mother.

Her slim hands reached up to cup my face, gently brushing my hair away, her eyes lingering on its startling white color. She looked as she did when I last saw her alive, as did Cieran, but I - I had changed. I now stood taller than Mother, eye to eye with my brother. My smooth hair shone white in the afternoon sun, no longer blue-black like the raven’s wing.

Again my heart skipped, as I realized that this wasn’t real. “It’s been so long,” I said to Mother. “I’ve wanted to tell you -” my voice faltered. Tell her what? There were so much to tell her, yet I didn’t know what to say. I looked helplessly at my brother. Both of them smiled at me, love in their dark eyes. “I love you both,” I looked from one to the other, still enfolded in their embraces. “I never stopped loving you both,” I was sobbing now, all the pent-up grief at their loss running like the incoming tide over me.

Mother wiped the tears from my cheeks, then brought my face down to her shoulder, her arms holding me close, her hand cupping the back of my head, as she used to do when I was small and woke up with nightmares. We stood together for long moments, until something coiled within my belly. As if she felt it too, Mother’s embrace loosened, and she stepped back from me, sadness in her eyes. My arms fell away as she backed to the cottage, never taking her gaze from mine. I moved to follow her, but my brother’s strong hand on my shoulder stopped me.

“Mother!” I cried, but she turned and stepped through the doorway into the cottage, disappearing from my sight. I saw as much heartache in Cieran’s gaze as I felt in my throat. He gripped my shoulder one last time, then stepped away, turning his back to me as he did so. He followed the path leading to the cottage door.

I tried to follow, but the hand remained on my shoulder, pinning me to the spot. I reached up to seize the hand, felt talons digging into my shoulder, the scales covering the fingers, the fiery breath on the back of my neck. Something about that immense presence gave me courage as I watched the cottage door close behind my brother, and the taloned hand on my shoulder turned to clasp my fingers. A raspy voice sounded behind me -

[hazmick]

*Thud* Ow, that was so intense I fell out of my chair. Julian's painful memory of her mother and brother was really touching, and the strange creature is very intriguing. I'll sit here waiting in anticipation for the next glorious chapter in the tale of my favourite Redguard.

This post has been edited by hazmick: Sep 7 2010, 03:05 PM

[treydog]

Oh my. The “dream sequence” (or was it something more?) was powerful and moving and uplifting and sad. And then the final paragraph!

Anyone who wants to know how to “show and not tell,” look at the way each character in this episode is drawn- Jauffre, Martin with his books, Baurus behind Martin’s shoulder, Orania…. In a very few words of vivid description, we understand the personalities and the dynamics of this group.

And here, Jauffre fully redeems himself in my eyes (and foreshadows another moment which occurs at the end…):

I felt Jauffre’s hand land heavily on my right shoulder, as he leaned down to my right ear. “Emperor Uriel laid a heavy burden on you, Julian,” he whispered. My gaze slid past his hand to where Martin sat at his study table, head propped up on his fist, eyes on one of a growing pile of books. “You need to be strong to bear it.” Jauffre finished, withdrawing his hand and stepping back.

I would point out all the other parts that sing to me, but I would have to quote everything.

One preference issue:

Finally, she took the final product and poured it into a clean mug.

Two “finals” in close proximity. How about- “Finally, she took the resulting product and…”

[SubRosa]

That dream sequence was not only beautiful, but it also gave us some more info on Julian's mysterious past. Cieran was apprenticed to Morvayn? Emphasis on the was of course. The touch of her mother looking out to the harbor at 4pm every day as an especially delicious way of showing us the effect of Julian's father not being there, either because he abandoned them, or is dead.

Most of all however I felt the claw of Akatosh throughout this entire segment. In a very subtle way, you made it clear that Julian is not simply the right person in the right place, rather she has been claimed by Akatosh. Perhaps just as Martin's past has shaped him into the person the Empire needs most at this time, Julian's past has likewise done the same?

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Sep 7 2010, 04:49 PM

[mALX]

ARGH!!!!!!! Don't stop there!!!! You have to post the rest of this....ARGH !!!!!!!

I am holding my breath till the next post!!!! * mALX expires from lack of oxygen in front of PC, waiting for next installment of OHDH... *

[Olen]

Now there was a part which really shines out even in this piece. The dynamic of the group was spot on. The 'coiling' which might have something to do with Akatosh being introduced then appearing in the dream before a certain claw which suggests it might be more than a dream. Excellent stuff, and a bit more of her past. I think this is the first we've heard of a brother, certainly the first mention of more than his existance. It makes me wonder what happened, and if her mother's death was more than old age...

I felt Jauffre’s hand land heavily on my right shoulder
...
I tried to follow, but the hand remained on my shoulder, pinning me to the spot.

Perhaps Martin and Julian aren't the only ones being manipulated by the gods...

And that's quite a cliffhanger.

[Destri Melarg]

Okay, I’m back with my obligatory wall of text! I enjoyed so much about these last chapters that this is going to be a very LOOONNNNGGGGG post. You have been warned.

Chapter 14.3 The Shrine of Sheogorath

First I want to commend you on incorporating Gwinas’ directions into this chapter. They gave Julian a frame of reference outside of the combat and helped to bridge the gap in logic that says that there is no way that Julian would have been able to anticipate the Mad God’s offering demands.

I have to agree with trey that there was something slightly jarring about Julian’s need to cleanse the area of bandits. The explanation for her actions was both logical and well described, but there was an undertone to her actions that was both uncharacteristically cold and blood-thirsty. Could the distaste she feels for the task at hand be causing her to take her frustration out on the bandits she seeks to encounter on the road?

Chapter 14.4 Sheogorath’s Reward

Ah, the K’Sharra Prophecy. You already know how I feel about that! I know you are an animal lover, but come on . . . FLAMING DOGS!! IN A TOWN FULL OF CATS!!! I know that there is a perverse corner of your mind that registers a chuckle at the thought. On that note, it seems kind of strange to me that we feel empathy for the Khajiit of Borderwatch who suffer nothing more than a temporary fright and a long day cleaning up. We also feel for the sheep and the rats, who one way or another are going to end up dead at the Khajiit hands anyway. But we give no love to the poor, terribly mistreated and immolated DOGS! I am glad that Julian at least describes their dying as ‘sickening’.

You had me from S’thasa’s opening comments about the cheese (brilliant touch to have her make those comments to Julian over lunch!). Julian’s agonizing over ways to fulfill the conditions of the prophecy without killing the poor sheep (apparently the lot of livestock is no better in Tamriel than it is in, say, America) made her distaste with the whole task hit home. I thought the flashbacks to Ri’Bassa’s comments were great companion pieces to Gwinas’ directions in the last chapter and helped form a sense of continuity to the entire Sheogorath storyline. I wish you had included Ri'Bassa's reluctance at conveying the final part of the prophecy. It would have added to the build-up IMO. As it reads now there is something anti-climactic about the big event.

Chapter 14.5 Ardaline’s Staff

Now it all begins to make sense. First it was a return to Bravil and a confrontation with the demons of her past. Then it was her epic struggle against multiple enemies at Fort Grief that ultimately ended in failure. Following that it was her near relapse into the hell of addiction from which she thought herself free. Finally it was an unsavory task for a Daedric Prince that left her doubting her own purpose. I guess it is no surprise that Julian would lash out at random bandits on the road or terrorize a couple of civilians whose only crime was buying a staff from the wrong person. I stand in awe at the subtlety in which you have allowed Julian’s character to reveal itself to us in these last chapters. If it was intentional then you are bumping dangerously close to genius here. If it was a happy accident then I would advise acting like the dog who has just collided with the sliding glass door. Just shake yourself and walk away quietly like you meant for all the world to do exactly that!

Chapter 14.6 Order of the Virtuous Blood

‘Welcome to the hallowed halls of the Order of the Virtuous Blood. We are, for lack of a better term, vampire hunters . . . even though, until now, we have never actually found a vampire. It has, suspiciously and conveniently, come to our attention that Roland Jenseric is a vampire. What we want you to do is go out and kill him so that we can take the credit. Please.’

One of the things that I always admire about this story is the way that you seamlessly juxtapose in-game dialogue and Julian’s often tongue-in-cheek perception. Given the weight of responsibility that she has taken upon herself, and her tendency for melancholy, these moments of levity are a welcome respite.

I love this chestnut:

“A few nights ago, I was roaming the city, as I often do, searching for signs of a vampire.”

After emerging from hiding from the man who was ‘to strong’ to confront, Seridur returns to the garden to find the woman dead with two puncture wounds in her neck and it is only then that he realizes Jenseric is a vampire?!! The very thing he was supposedly out there hunting in the first place!! Methinks Seridur’s story should be wrapped in old copies of the Black Horse Courier and flung around the Waterfront for it doth emit the smell of slaughterfish!

On a completely unrelated side note: Deep-Throat made me laugh! And I don’t think that mALX has watched more porn than you. She has watched more old porn!

Chapter 14.7 Investigating Roland Jenseric

Like the others so ably pointed out, the conversations with Claudio and J’mhad really added a sense of depth and weight to the world that you present.

I admit that I found the fact that Julian had to ‘study’ Jenseric’s windows to ‘realize’ that they were uncovered a little strange. It felt like a definite ‘face-palm’ that I think you could have done more with, if for no other reason than to add a little seasoning to Julian’s methodical investigation. That is strictly a personal observation on my part.

Chapter 14.7 (again?) Return to Bravil

Let’s start with Vamori and Ardaline. I love the way that you have chosen to resolve this quest. Like the others said it is far more satisfying than the game’s resolution. My only issue (and it would be a very small one) is your portrayal of Vamori in the scene with Ardaline. He comes across as a little too one note to me. We get that Julian regards him as something of an ineffectual weasel, but that doesn’t mean that he should simply behave like one when getting dressed down by the woman he loves. He should be ecstatic that he accomplished his goal. Through both the hug and the slap, Ardaline is at last paying attention to him.

I would also once again caution Julian on her condescension toward men who step out of line. On her way out of the Mages Guild make sure that she steps down gently, we wouldn’t want her clay feet to break as she looks toward the skooma den!

Now the scene with Lerus is interesting. One can see the dilemma presented to her: resign her post and leave the people of Bravil to whoever the Count would name as her successor, or swallow her revulsion at certain of the Count’s crimes in order to remain at her post to protect the people of Bravil. I would not envy her that choice. SubRosa raises some interesting and valid points, ones that I am inclined to agree with as the story is written now. Perhaps, in a later chapter, we can be given some indication of the good that Lerus does while letting other things slide. That will help us to see her situation in a different light. I also disagree with your assessment of Lerus. I think that she is an incredibly strong character. That is why it is so maddening to see her constantly watching from the sidelines. The woman is a player, coach. Get her into the game!

The Count has dealings with both the Dark Brotherhood and the Marie Elena? Can we infer that Gaston Tussaud’s untimely demise was born of machinations begun in Castle Bravil?

Chapter 15.1 A Confession

trey might graciously give Jauffre a pass, but I won’t. Tell the Grandmaster that while he and all his pretty little Blades sit in Cloud Ruler sipping tea and eating roast lamb and mutton, Julian is the only one actually doing something about the Oblivion Crisis! His attitude grates on the nerves as much as Julian’s does toward men who are weaker than her. There is a certain justice in that, I suppose. It is certainly a testament to your skill that we care enough to get angry when we see Julian getting short shrift. I wouldn’t change anything about this chapter. As aggravating as Jauffre’s demeanor is, it still perfectly fits the character that you have developed.

I simply reserve the right to criticize him for it.

Chapter 15.2 A Hope for Healing

Finally!!! Treatment for that knee! Now we get to see what Julian at full strength is capable of. Daedra, silver tongue-tied lotharios, psychotic Orcs, and mischievous mages beware!!

The others may be willing to forgive Jauffre, but not me! The fact that he had such detailed reports of Julian’s actions yet still chose to berate and interrogate her shows a man with a pronounced streak of sadism in his make-up. Given her condition, both mental and physical, Jauffre comes across as nothing short of a bully in monk’s robes. Maybe Julian can convalesce in Bruma where she and Paint can get some relative peace.

Chapter 15.3 A Dream of Home

This chapter was simply remarkable. Julian’s reluctance to be rendered helpless and her inadvertent insult to Orania was so in character that my neck literally hurts from shaking my head in admiration. Jauffre’s new-found empathy and compassion slightly lowers my desire to hit him over the head with the Truncheon of Submission (but I still think he’s kind of a d*%#). Everything leading up to the dream-sequence worked perfectly.

‘Sun’s companion’ takes on meaning and weight while reading through Julian’s dream of home. We have all heard Julian mention her mother and brother on numerous occasions, but in this sequence we get a tantalizing hint of the tragic fate that awaits somewhere beyond the door to that simple cottage. The details that you chose to show us, like the mother’s longing gaze toward Anvil Harbor every day at the fourth bell, and the silver bracelet on her wrist that she never takes off, not to mention Cieran’s filling out from being apprenticed to Varel Morvayn are incredibly vivid and strike as truth against that tuning fork that we all possess inside. And the ending . . . with the scaled hand and hot breath of what I can only presume to be the Dragon of Time himself burning the back of her neck.

Beautiful.

This post has been edited by Destri Melarg: Sep 7 2010, 09:41 PM

[Acadian]

Magnificent, Rider. Powerful, beautiful, revealing.

What a beautiful description of Julian's home overlooking the Strid River valley and the Abecean!

It was brilliant to use the occasion of Julian's anethesia / surgery to introduce her dream. It was emotional to read. I'm sure it was even more so to write.

I love what seems to be a reference to the presence of Akatosh with Julian.

Here's hoping her knee gets better!

This post has been edited by Acadian: Sep 7 2010, 11:09 PM

[D.Foxy]

This was so good, I have even exiled Mr. Dhertee Innu Endo....temporarily....

[Remko]

The dream sequence part was very vivd. It felt a lot like the part in the movie "Gladiator" where Maximus dies and returns to his wife and child who were so brutally murdered. Powerful and very emotional.

Just beautifully written. Can't wait for the continuation.

[haute ecole rider]

@hazmick: I hope you didn’t have to go to the ER! Perhaps a seat belt will help the next time?

@treydog: Thanks for forgiving Jauffre! I’m glad you were moved by the “dream sequence.” We will find out just exactly what it is.

@SubRosa: We’ll see just how right you are!

@MALX: Oh, where are the hunky paramedics when you need ‘em!

@Olen: You’ll find out the fates of mother and brother in a couple more segments . . .

@Destri: Thanks for the wall o’ text. I now forgive you for being absent for so long! Actually, I knew you would more than make up for it, and it’s always good to get the overall summary (as you and trey have done) to help me keep the big picture in mind. You’ve mentioned Julian’s aversion to bandits. You’ll see when she visits Anvil (Flashback City!) in a future chapter. Some of the elements from her anesthesia/dream that you pointed out will also be picked up again during Julian’s visit to Anvil.

@Acadian: I’m glad you felt the emotion in this piece. I usually don’t cry when I write the tragic stuff, but I went through half a box of kleenex when I wrote this one! I guess it goes to show just how much I care about this character.

@Fox: Why, oh why did you feel the need to exile DIE? He's always welcome here, you know?

@Remko: The cinematography in the scene you describe is one of the most stunning sequences I’ve ever seen, and it is what made that movie a keeper for me (otherwise it would just have been another dull story about a boring noble general). While I didn’t have it in mind when I wrote this piece, there is no doubt that the impression it left on me has been of some influence.

Julian gets encouraging news when she wakes up.

*******************
Chapter 15.4 - Waking to Hope

“Easy, Julian, you’re safe,” the rough voice brought me back to Cloud Ruler Temple. “You’re home.” I saw Captain Steffan’s blue gaze past his hand on my shoulder. My breath caught in my throat, and I realized that my cheeks were wet.

My left hand came up to wipe the tears away, and I shook my head. “I was home,” I murmured. “Now I’m not.” After a moment, Steffan’s hand squeezed my shoulder comfortingly, then he was gone.

Cirroc looked up from bandaging my knee. “Are you feeling any pain right now?” he asked. “Selena can make up some more of the willowbark potion for you.”

Taking another shaky breath, I considered Cirroc’s question. My right knee felt sore, as if it had been wrenched apart and put back together again, but that stabbing pain was gone. “It’s just achy,” I responded when I felt sure of my breathing. When I moved to sit up, Cirroc pushed me back down.

“You can’t move that leg for two days, now,” he warned me. “Not even to bend it.” He pointed at the stiff structure that encased my leg from hip to ankle. “I’ve splinted your leg to make sure you don’t.”

“Two days?” Quailing at the thought of being abed for that long a period of time, I looked up at Cirroc. “Can’t we speed up the process a bit?”

“And undo all the progress I’ve made?” his retort was oddly reassuring.

“So it’s going to be fine?” I hardly dared to hope. After so long - I let my breath out when he nodded.

“It looked good when I finished,” he assured me. Then his gaze sharpened and he shook his finger at me. “But you need to do the rest of the work, now. Stay off that leg for two days, no less.”

I looked around, not seeing the elegant Alchemist. “Where is Orania?” I asked. Cirroc looked up from his packing.

“She’s in the kitchen, with -” he looked upwards a moment, “ah, Jena, I believe? They’re working on preparing potions for the next couple days, to keep you comfortable.” He nodded at the splinted limb. “There is going to be a lot of inflammation. Part of that is due to damage, and my cutting away the excess scar tissue, but part of that will be due to healing. It’ll hurt, then it will itch like crazy.” He rose to his full height, looking down at me, his pack slung over his shoulder. “Believe me, you’ll be grateful for those potions, as horrid as they may taste.”

I groaned. “More of that vile stuff she made for me?” Cirroc chuckled, shaking his head.

“You’ll have to ask Orania, but it’s not quite the same thing,” he answered. “I don’t think it has the Alik’r lophophora.” He reached down and gripped my shoulder. “It won’t taste nearly as bad as that, I promise.”

As his footsteps receded down the Great Hall, I heard him pause as another approached him, the murmur of voices whispering through the great raftered space. I looked up at the huge beams overhead, the rows of katanas glimmering in the grey light pouring in through the clerestory windows above. What was that dream? Vision? Mother and Cieran haven’t aged a day, but I felt every day of the last - what? - Twenty-nine years? And what was that at the end there? Holding me back from them? Why?

“Julian?” Orania’s approach brought me back to the present. Her concerned gaze met mine. “You had a rough awakening,” she continued, her tone worried. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.” She set the vials in her hands down on the little table at the foot of my cot. “You were supposed to have good dreams.”

I smiled faintly at her. “It was good,” I answered. “Not your fault I woke up the way I did. I just didn’t want it to end, that’s all.”

Orania slid a quick glance at me that I found unsettling, then she looked down at the mug in her hand, emptying a vial into it. She filled it the rest of the way with the tea still simmering on the fire. She brought the mug to me, sitting down next to me and propping me up on the cushions so I could sip at the hot liquid.

“Is this the same foul stuff you gave me before?” I asked warily. She smiled and shook her head.

“Not quite,” she answered. “Just some willow bark and lavender sprig. It’s the lophophora that gives the other potion that vile taste.”

I drank the tea, and tasted the bitterness of the potion. Still, it was not as disagreeable as the anesthetizing potion Orania had given me earlier. The tea helped smooth out the acridity.

“I want you to take a dose of this,” she gestured at the vials on the table, “with some tea every eight hours. The tea will help it work more effectively. Don’t drink any of the klah, though - it is too stimulating.” Orania watched me drink a little more of the concoction. “I was surprised to see you here, Julian,” she said finally.

“Oh?” I glanced at her. “I’m a soldier, why wouldn’t I be closing Oblivion Gates?”

“That doesn’t surprise me, not after the riot act you read the young ones two weeks ago,” Orania retorted. “No, I’m surprised that as hurt as you were, you dragged yourself all the way up here, to such a remote outpost, when you could have come to the Mages Guild, or even to the Chapel.”

Ouch. “Well,” I tried to figure out how to explain why I ended up at Cloud Ruler Temple without revealing my membership in the Blades.

“You’re a Blade sister, aren’t you?” Orania crossed her arms. Shooting a glance at her face, I thought I could see disapproval in her gaze. “And joining the Mages Guild is just your cover?”

I closed my eyes. “It’s more than just a cover,” I murmured into the steaming tea. After I drank down the last of it, I met her gaze again. “I know you don’t believe it, but I’ve got to learn how to live on my own.” I shook my head. “I’ve got to improve my restoration and alchemy skills. The Legion is no longer part of my life, but that doesn’t mean I will forget how to fight for the weak and helpless.” The cup in my lap, I looked down at my hands. “I’ve spent too many years serving Akatosh to turn my back on those teachings now.”

In my mind’s eye, I stared at the closed door of my childhood home, felt the taloned hand on my shoulder, heard the raspy breathing at my back. In my peripheral vision, I saw my shadow stretching away eastward on the amber grass, and the immense shadow of the One who stood behind me, crouched down to my level.

I caught my breath again at the memory of that shape, feeling my eyes widen. At that moment, that something coiled in my gut again. Akatosh, that was you? Are you truly with me? The significance of his presence hit me then. Am I going to need you for what comes next?

Orania touched my arm lightly. With a shake that brought myself back into the present, I looked at her. “Are you all right, Julian?” she asked.

“I just realized something,” I responded quietly. “Something that scares me.” I shook my head. “I’m not sure I understand it.” My eyes dropped to the empty mug in my hands as I rolled it between my palms. “I’ll have to think about it.”

“You’ll have time to think about it, Julian,” Orania said quietly, plucking the mug from my hands and rising. She set it softly down on the table, next to the vials. Dusting her hands on each other, she turned back to me, her expression dark. “I won’t tell the others about the Blades,” she said. “I’ll keep your secret.” Picking up her pack, she slung it at her back. “I’ll be back in a couple of days to restock those potions. You’ll need more, then.”

[Remko]

I liked "Gladiator" entirely but that's because there was fightingandbloodandgoreandnandandwellboysstuff in it but that particular scene lifted it above the average noble general stuff movie, I agree.

Aaargg.. No answer who's hand it as that held her back. Was it just a pleasant dream or was it something more? (NDE springs to mind)

Don't keep us in suspense too long

This post has been edited by Remko: Sep 9 2010, 03:41 PM

[treydog]

I shook my head. “I was home,” I murmured. “Now I’m not.”

Yes, there are all kinds of “safety” and “comfort.” And some of them are only accessible to us through dreams- or memories.

"The Legion is no longer part of my life, but that doesn’t mean I will forget how to fight for the weak and helpless.”

The Julian Credo?

One of the most intriguing moments in this episode is Orania's ambiguous reaction to the Blades... One might think there is some history there...

Your life experience with healing and recovery again shows; but in a way that is entirely appropriate to the story and the setting. And Julian's growing awareness that she is- perhaps not an avatar- but certainly a champion-in-the-making for a certain draconic divine- delicious.

[SubRosa]

A nice simple segment that both brings us up to speed on Julian physically, but also sees her grappling with the significance of her vision.

Akatosh, that was you? Are you truly with me? The significance of his presence hit me then. Am I going to need you for what comes next?
I get the feeling it is a yes on both counts. Unless Dragon is Julian's spirit-guide.