Old Habits Die Hard Part Five, New habits? Or just old ones recycled? Options

[Thomas Kaira]

More fun horsie talk!

It was great seeing how Blanco and Paint reacted to each other, and I agree with that entirely. Paint will forever be the complacent, yet playful little gelding I always envisioned him to be. I should know... Beauty is exactly him in Palomino coat!

Ignoring each other is a lot better than fighting each other, at least. They should get a chance to get to know each other much better very soon, and I predict Blanco will waste no time showing off his Stallion-ness on the road.

Nit:

They’re deliberately ignoring each other. For the moment. Is that good?

Seems your start italic marker went a bit wayward here.

This post has been edited by Thomas Kaira: Mar 17 2011, 12:27 AM

[TheOtherRick]

Well I have finally gotten around to starting this one. I only have the first five posts read so far, those being Chapter 1.

I have to agree with Treydog...it is really cool to see a protagonist that is a bit longer in the tooth than most of them. Being a bit long in the tooth myself, I can completely relate to the aches and pains that come with becoming a late-summer chicken. You describe it perfectly.

Also, the flashbacks are great! They are the ideal tool for character building.

All in all, a great account of the tutorial. Looking forward to continuing.

[Acadian]

A delightful return to Weye!

You continue to paint a wonderful character in Aelwin. I really enjoyed seeing Paint meet Blanco. I know Aelwin will miss the gelding, but I'm glad Paint is getting much better.

So, it seems that Weynon/Chorrol is next?

Nit?
“Well, is this one’s trained to stand quietly with geldings?”
I read this several times, making sure I was trying to account for the accent and the liberties available via dialogue. The bolded area however seems to contain an unintended redundancy? If you break down the contraction, you get 'is this one is trained to…?' Perhaps: 'is this one trained to…?' or 'this one's trained to…?'

[Grits]

I enjoyed the horsey goodness, and the lovely chat in the garden. Maybe Julian can rescue a cat for Aelwin, so he won’t miss Paint so much.

[haute ecole rider]

@SubRosa: Aigh, the dialogue between Aelwin and Aia would be a pain to write! Are you trying to give me nightmares? Don’t get me wrong, I love the old guy, but his voice is a beeyotch to get right. And according to the time line I’ve been maintaining alongside each chapter, yes, it’s been not quite six weeks since Julian left Cloud Ruler. She left on 7 Frostfall, and it’s now 18 Sun’s Dusk.

@TK: Thanks for catching the wayward BBcode. It’s been fixed. I had a feeling you would enjoy seeing two of the boys in Julian’s life meet each other.

@Ricky: Hey, welcome to Old Habits! You and treydog are not the only ones to comment on Julian’s age as being atypical for a fan fic protagonist. I’m having a great deal of fun writing her story, and I hope you will see that in upcoming chapters.

@Acadian: You guessed right - Weynon and Chorrol are next. I’m glad you enjoyed the little visit with Aelwin. Your nit has been fixed.

@Grits: Maybe Julian will get a cat for Aelwin!

*************************
Chapter 25.1 The Last Stop

As the three of us made our way up the long slope toward Weynon Priory and Chorrol beyond, I searched the sky for the Gate I knew stood open outside the city. They had been talking about it at the Bloated Float while I had my supper last night. It had opened on the same day as the Gates outside the other cities. This would be the strongest sigil stone yet, I mused silently to myself. Travel to Chorrol had essentially stopped, the Black Horse Courier only traveling as far as Weynon Priory before leaving the Black Road and cutting across to the Orange Road where it skirted the north city walls to the gates that faced the mountains.

Ahead, the sun merged into the familiar crackling red glow of an Oblivion Gate. Blanco stopped beneath me as I regarded the tip of the oblate fire visible above the ruins of the old fort just south of Chorrol’s main gate. No wonder the courier’s going through Weynon Priory. That’s right on the intersection of the Black Road with Gate Street. That’s mighty close to the town gates! Blanco regarded the sizzling energy ahead, his breaths coming fast and shallow, his ears swiveling at speed. Paint, who had been walking quietly at the stallion’s hip, hung back as far as the lead would allow him.

After a few moments, I nudged Blanco forward, and turned him off the road onto the path leading to the Priory. Both horses were too happy to walk away from that Gate. Paint picked his head up and quickened his steps. Within a stride or two his nose was at my knee, and I could see his ears pricked forward.

At the sight of a familiar figure walking from the chapel to the priory house, Paint’s nostrils fluttered, and he whickered softly. “Yes, Paint, it’s Eronor,” I said, gathering the rein in my left hand and stroking Paint’s neck with my right. “You’re almost home.”

The Dunmer had paused before the house at Paint’s call, and now stood facing us, his hand over his eyes to cut the glare from the westering sun. “Hail, Eronor!” I called to him. “It’s me, Julian of Anvil!”

His smile reached us before his voice did. “Hail, Julian! Welcome back!” As we walked up to the priory, bemusement moved through his scarlet eyes. “But two horses?”

“I’m returning Paint.” The gelding stepped past Blanco to nudge Eronor’s shoulder. Automatically the Dunmer reached up and took the halter lead from me. “He had a bad encounter with a will o’wisp in Blackwood,” I continued, dropping Blanco’s rein and dismounting. “I don’t think he’s fit for traipsing all over Cyrodiil with me anymore.”

“Will o’wisp?” Eronor repeated, his eyes moving over Paint’s form. “He doesn’t look that bad.” He waved for me to follow him with Blanco as he started toward the stables in the rear.

“He’s better than he was when we were in Leyawiin,” I kept Blanco a respectable distance behind the other horse. “Marz, the healer in Bravil, taught me a restore magicka spell for him. I’ve been casting it every chance I get.”

“Well, you don’t have to return him,” Eronor led Paint into the enclosure and secured him within the stall. I put Blanco next to him and began stripping the tack.

“I thought since he’s now retired, he would be happier to be back here,” I said. “And it seems I thought right.” Paint did indeed seem contented as Eronor filled the water buckets for both horses.

“Hmm,” Eronor grunted as he laid armfuls of aromatic hay before each eager mouth. “This has been his home for over ten years, so that makes sense.” He watched as Blanco worked away at his own dinner, ears twirling with the rhythm of his chewing. “And this stallion is so well behaved!”

“They met yesterday,” I answered. “Spent the night together in a paddock in Weye. They got along just fine - gave each other some space and that was all.”

“Not like Red at all,” Eronor shook his head. “Seems like he’s used to being around other horses.”

“Blanco does flirt with the mares the Black Horse Couriers use, though,” I remarked. Eronor’s eyes flashed at me as he stepped past the stallion, running his hand over the horse’s round back and strong rump. “He likes to talk them up. Of course, so far none of them have taken him up on his offer.”

“They shouldn’t!” Eronor chuckled. “After all, they don’t go out when they’re in season!” His gaze flickered over my frame, lingering a moment on the Kvatch Wolf emblazoned on the surcoat. “We’ve been hearing about you here at the priory. Closing Gates and being called Hero of every town in Cyrodiil. Folks up in Chorrol are praying you’ll come soon!”

“I saw the Gate in the old fort ruins,” I felt the mood turn somber at the change in subject. “How are they holding up?”

“Brother Piner’s been standing watch with the city guard and the Fighters Guild every night,” Eronor replied. “He’s been sleeping in the day between prayers. A small team from the guard went in about two weeks ago, but none of them have returned.”

I felt my stomach flip at his words. “Two weeks ago?” About the time I closed the Skingrad Gates.

“Aye, the daedra were swarming pretty badly then. Bittneld felt he couldn’t wait for you any longer.” Eronor’s eyes grew pained. “Brother Piner argued for waiting, but I guess things were pretty bad at the time.”

“And now?” I turned for the priory.

“There’s fewer daedra coming through, but we’re still taking casualties. Brother Piner’s hitting the altar for healing here every day when he comes back.” Eronor gestured at my pack. “Rest a bit, leave your extra gear here. I know I can’t keep you out of that Gate.”

“No, not really,” I could hear the rue in my voice. “If that’s okay with you Eronor, I’ll just drop off my extra gear, grab my weapons and head out.”

“But you just got here!” Eronor exclaimed.

“Knowing that there’s people taking casualties, I can’t just sit here and rest until they’re safe,” I countered. “That was my job as pilus in the Legion, and it’s an old habit I prefer not to break right now.” I clapped his thin shoulder as we walked through the porte-cochere. “Don’t worry, Blanco did all the work so far today!”

I managed to put my pack inside the priory without wakening the sleeping Piner. Carefully I closed the door behind me, then adjusted the two swords at my left hip. Mentally I reviewed the spells I would be most likely to use in the Deadlands - detect life, shock on touch, fireball, and healing. My two bows strung and slung at my back, my quiver at my right hip, I returned to the Black Road and turned my feet toward those familiar daedric thunderclouds.

The first few guards I encountered at the barriers stared at my white hair and the Kvatch Wolf before one of them bolted for the center of the line. The other two approached me. “Have you come to help us out?” one of them asked.

I saw the weariness and strain that aged their youthful eyes, familiar by now after Skingrad and Anvil. “Who’s in charge right now?”

“Captain Bittneld the Curse-Bringer,” the other volunteered. “Bormir went to fetch him.”

“Never mind that,” I walked past them. “Take me to where he is.”

I had not moved more than three steps before one of the men, striding at my shoulder, pointed ahead of us. “Here he comes.” The two men saluted the captain before turning back to their posts.

Bittneld was as Nordic as his name. But where Captain Burd was as tall as an Altmer, Bittneld was closer to my own height, and broader through the shoulder. He had the same cool blue eyes, the hard assessing gaze as the taller Nord. “Julian of Anvil,” he greeted me, his voice hoarse. Probably from shouting over the noise from that Gate. “Are you here to lend aid?”

“I heard some of your men went in there, but didn’t come back,” I said quietly. Bittneld’s gaze flickered ever so slightly. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be here sooner, sir.”

“You can’t be in nine places at the same time,” Bittneld half-growled. “But I still wish you had that ability!”

“So do I, sir,” I responded. “But now that I’m here, I’ll go ahead. Can you hold the line for another day?”

“We have no other choice, really,” Bittneld shook his head. “It’s that or let Chorrol be overrun by daedra.”

“Only if they open two more Gates like this one, as they did at Kvatch,” I glanced at the Gate. Yes, a smaller one. “It’ll likely take me about a day or a little less,” I continued. “That’s how most of these Gates have been for me.”

“I’ve heard you took one of Dion’s men into that second Gate outside Skingrad,” Bittneld turned to gaze at the portal, his face scarlet in the glow from the unholy fire. “And the same with the guard at Bruma.”

“Are you concerned about a second Gate opening?” I asked. “Skingrad was unusual, but not the only one. Leyawiin had two Gates open outside their east gate, too. But are any of your men rested?” Bittneld’s scowl told me the answer. “Then it’s best I go in alone. I’m rested.” Relatively speaking. “I’ll be happy to brief your men afterwards.”

Bittneld sent me a glare hotter than the fire of the Gate. “I’m going to hold you to that, Julian of Anvil. Until then, we’ll hold the line here.”

[SubRosa]

old habit I prefer not to break right now
We know how hard those die!

Another city, another gate (and soon another MG fetch and carry quest). It was heartening to hear that the Chorrol guard at least tried to shut the gate on their own. Not so heartening to learn they never came back. It looks like Bittneld's nickname is in full-force!

[Grits]

I like to see how Chorrol is handling their Gate, but sorry to hear about those lost in there. The description of the top coming into view captures the sense of inevitability I get when I see one. It sounds like Julian is well on her way to becoming the Champion of Cyrodiil, if only informally.

[Thomas Kaira]

Bittneld sent me a glare hotter than the fire of the Gate.

And likely melting his icy Nordic soul!

And here we go again. What's the tally now? 23? 24? Well, at least we know Julian has some experience with gate-crashing. Better keep her away from parties from now on!

[Acadian]

I'm so glad Paint seems happy to be back at Weynon Priory! It looks like he will get great care, and the Chorrol area is beautiful. Well, when there aren't any darn Oblivion Gates around.

Nice touch that the guards are augmented by the Fighters Guild and even Brother Piner.

Pair of swords, check. Pair of bows, check. Full quiver, check. Spells reviewed, check. Bristling Julian sounds ready!

I can hope I suppose, but after two weeks in that gate, it doesn't sound good for the expedition that preceded Julian.

[Olen]

All caught up . Good parts here, looks like we have another gate about to be closed. In fact I think it's the penultimate one, barring any random closings she goes in for...

Seeing Kvatch again was good. Going back to old places and seeing change really brings the world to life and gives the feeling that its vast cast aren't just twiddling their thumbs while Julian is away. That they aren't doing all that well, in spite of the initial problem being over adds realism, in many ways it's months down the line which are important, not the immediate problem.

I also sense that there might be some more to do there in the future, with no count and two possible leaders... Even with things looking up there will be more problems there. Still it looks like they'll have food, tools and shelter.

No more issues with the Skingrad guild I notice. The bandit not attacking on the way there was a nice touch, it makes them seem more human.

The part with Merowald and Paint was a treat. It offered a sort of break from the immediate focus of gathering forces to the next phase in the quest to look at the big picture, and of course revisiting old characters is always pleasant. The multiple functions it fulfilled made it doubly enjoyable, I noticed the further foreshadowing with the bracelet.

And then into 25, and another gate, but the last one this time before Julian faces a rather different kind of foe. I wonder how prepared she will be for the change after fighting so many daedra...

I'm looking forward to it

Nits:
“I have everything else here I need to make steel,” gra-Sharob remarked. “Plenty of carbon in those burnt trees, and tungstenite in Belletor’s Folly.” - this stood out for a couple of reasons, both slighly technical. The knowledge of alloying seems a bit advanced (also tungsten seems a strange choice), also steelmaking is quite a large job and would probably be beyond her. But then she might have magic on her side which would proably change the process.
'regarded the tip of the oblate fire visible above the ruins' - gates look more prolate than oblate, but that's just me being obsessive.

[haute ecole rider]

@SubRosa: Yes, another city, another Gate. And we’ll see if Bittneld’s nickname applies to his men or his enemies.

@Grits: Fatalities is something the game kind of glosses over, but I felt it was needed to make the story more real, and the implied danger of the Gates more immediate.

@TK: The tally, counting this Gate, is nineteen.

@Acadian: I figured it was time more folks got involved in the barricades outside the Gates. And no, it doesn’t look good for the group that went into the Gate two weeks ago.

@Olen: Thanks for catching up! It’s good to see that you’re still enjoying Julian’s story. There will be more foreshadowing in upcoming chapters. As for prolate vs. oblate, I had a hard time finding a word to describe the lens shape of the Gates. I figure prolate is a more uncommon word and may not be familiar to most people. For now I’ll leave it that way, but I’ll acknowledge your obsessiveness is correct.

On arriving at Chorrol, Julian discovers yet another Gate. To prevent more casualties, she goes in to close it. Now she has one last noble to see, one last Guild chapter head to visit, and one last town to check off her Grand Tour.

*****************
Chapter 25.2: The Last Recommendation

The Oblivion Gate did not take as long as I expected, and I was able to catch a few hours of sleep at Weynon Priory before I headed into town. The shops were still closed, so I decided to head up to the Mages Guild chapterhouse first and see if the chapter head was up.

On my entry into the grand edifice, an Imperial man greeted me. “Hello, Hero of Chorrol!” He grinned as I groaned silently. “Thanks for closing that Gate for us. We would have given you a bigger welcome if we hadn’t been tossing and turning in our beds!”

“That’s all right,” I shook my head, recalling my return to Nirn in the very early hours of the morning.

The lungfuls of cold night air diminished the fatigue I always felt after a foray into the Deadlands. Above me, stars glowed in the moonless sky. As I stepped away from the ruins of the Oblivion Gate, a slight figure passed the barricades before me.

“Hail, Julian!” Brother Piner greeted me. Like the guardsmen and Captain Bittneld, the monk showed the effects of six weeks of standing watch outside an active Gate. Yet he was genuinely happy to see me. “I was glad to hear you had arrived!”

“I’m glad to see you in one piece, too,” I answered. “Somehow I wasn’t surprised when Eronor told me you had been standing watch every night.”

“What else could I do, with one of those standing so close to the Priory and to Chorrol?” Piner clapped me on the shoulder. “Just as you can’t stay out of these things!”

“Ma’am,” a Dunmer with black hair cut in a cliffracer style and steel plate over his chest and shoulders clanged a salute as others crowded around me. “Welcome back to Nirn.”

“Wait, wait,” I held up my hands, my boisterous welcome back at Anvil very much on my mind. “What time is it?”

“Almost one bell in the morning,” he replied. “You weren’t gone nearly as long as Captain Bittneld said you would be.”

“No, not as long as I expected,” I admitted. “But I’m still tired, and it’s too late at night, or rather -“ I let a smile show, “- early in the morning to do anything else but go to bed for a few hours at least.”

“Well, ma’am,” the Dunmer would not give up. I realized he did not wear the same oak tree insignia as the Chorrol guardsmen. “Captain Bittneld left orders to be notified as soon as the Gate was closed.”

“And I wouldn’t tell you to disobey those orders,” I stepped past him. “But I’m headed to the Priory and bed. Tell Captain Bittneld I’ll catch up with him at a more decent hour.” At a sudden thought, I paused and turned back. “Is the area clear?”

The Dunmer slid his gaze to Piner, standing beside me. Piner turned his gaze to the sky above us. “Yes, ma’am,” the older man replied, “we swept the area less than an hour ago, and no daedra have exited the Gate since.”

“This is Modryn Oreyn,” Piner broke in. “He’s the Champion of the Fighters Guild. They’ve been helping man the barricades at night.”

I looked around again at the men surrounding us. While some of them wore the usual surcoat and mail of the guard, others wore various sorts of armor. Two Orsimer towered over most of their comrades, one in iron plate, the other bare-chested. “Then I would suggest one of you head into town to report to the Captain,” I said. “The rest of you sweep the area one more time, then turn in for the night. It would be best to leave the usual guard on the walls, just in case.”

Oreyn’s eyes narrowed at me. After a moment, he turned his gaze to one of the nearest guardsmen. “Yes, sir!” In response to the unspoken command, the guardsman’s right fist clanked on his chest in the customary salute before he left the group.

“As you suggest,” Oreyn’s tone held grudging respect. “Ma’am.”

I shook myself and returned to the present. “It’s a good morning, isn’t it?”

“Aye, that it is!” the Imperial responded heartily. “I’m Contumeliorus Floris, the mage in charge of recharging!” He tipped his head back as he laughed from his belly. “Get it, ‘in charge!’”

“Yes, I do,” I chuckled, more at his cheerful attitude than at his groaner. “I’m looking for Teekeeus.”

“Oh, he’ll be down shortly,” Floris assured me. “He’s a bit grumpy these days, though. With that Earana hanging around the Great Oak, his tail is all tied in knots.”

“Earana?” I repeated.

“You’ll see her soon enough!” Floris arched a brow at me. “But I’d steer clear of her if I were you. She has it in for Teekeeus, and wouldn't hesitate to take any of us down with him."

“Why?” I couldn’t help my curiosity.

“They were rivals in the University.” Floris lowered his voice with a glance at the stairs leading up. “It got so bad both of them were kicked out. They still hate each other’s guts.”

“All right, I’ll keep that in mind.” Footsteps on the stairs alerted me to the arrival of someone else. A balding Altmer, a peevish cast to his features, regarded me from his greater height as he reached the ground floor.

“Julian, this is Angalmo, our alchemist,” Floris waved him to join us. “Don’t mind his expression, he always looks like he just stepped in something!”

“Oh, stop it, Floris!” the Altmer snapped tersely, but his eyes as they turned to me were sparkling with humor. “He’s always picking on the Altmer stereotype, Floris is.” His voice was much warmer than his face.

I smiled up at him. “He does strike me as the prankster sort,” I remarked. Angalmo’s pursed lips actually smiled at the comment.

“So you’ve just closed yet another Gate, Julian,” he remarked with mock casualness. “How many does that make?”

“I’ve lost count,” I replied. “Nineteen, I think?”

“Nineteen!” Floris exclaimed. “And do your enchanted gear require recharging?”

“I found a few filled soul gems in the Deadlands.” I shrugged. “So far I’ve been able to keep my gear topped off. Now keeping them repaired is something else.”

“Rasheda will fix that right up,” Angalmo waved his hand toward the door. “She should be open any minute now.”

“Yes, I thought I would see her after I speak with Teekeeus.” I set my pack down and rummaged in it. After a moment, I found what I sought. “Here, do you have any use for these?”

“Bloodgrass?” Angalmo exclaimed. “And what are these?”

“Spiddal stick,” I pointed out the thin canes, then pointed out the stubby wood, “and harrada root.”

“How wonderful!” Angalmo reached for the ingredients. I moved my hands warningly.

“Be careful of the bloodgrass.” I showed him the fine scars on my hands. “The sap from them is highly irritating.”

“Of course!” Cautiously, Angalmo took the items from me, using the hem of his sleeve to handle the sharp-edged grass. “Thank you, Julian!”

“I noticed there is bloodgrass growing outside what’s left of the Gate,” I added. “I don’t know if it’ll continue growing, but it might be a good source if it survives.”

“I will keep an eye on them,” Angalmo promised. “Now if you’ll excuse me -“ He bowed to me before turning for the alchemy workroom just off the lobby.

Floris chuckled. “You’re on his good side, no doubt!” He turned and met my gaze. “Angalmo loves nothing more than tinkering with exotic ingredients to see what more he can learn from them.” He clapped his hands. “Well, have you eaten yet, Julian?”

I nodded as heavier footsteps, followed by the swishing sound of a tail brushing the treads reached us. A tall Argonian in a simple blue robe appeared on the staircase. His gaze moved from Floris to me, and his tongue flickered briefly between his scaled lips.

“Teekeeus!” Floris put his hands together and bowed slightly to the Argonian. “This is Julian of Anvil. She comes seeking you!”

I inclined my head respectfully as the chapter head approached us. Teekeeus stopped a few steps away, his orange eyes still steady on mine. “Welcome to Chorrol, Julian,” he returned my tacit greeting. “It seems thankss are in order for clossing that Oblivion Gate. Folkss have been on edge around here, and business has fallen off conssiderably.”

“Hopefully things will return to normal soon,” I responded. “I’ve come to see you for a recommendation for the Arcane University.”

His brows lifted. “You wish to enter the Universsity?” He took a deep breath, his eyes unfocusing momentarily. “Yess, I would need time to prepare a proper examination. However, if you would handle a minor matter for me, we could forgo that examination.”

At a glance from the taller man, Floris withdrew into the alchemy workroom. Teekeeus gestured me to follow him behind the counter, away from the stairs. “Lissten carefully,” he held up a scaled finger. “There iss a mage here in town, an Altmer named Earana. She and I have - a hisstory. She has no respect for Guild regulations, and is consstantly accussing me of missussing my powers. I’m certain she iss here becausse she wantss ssomthing from me. But she hassn’t yet approached me.” He scowled and his teeth ground, sending shivers up my spine. “She iss up to trouble. I want you to sspeak to her, find out what she wantss.”

This post has been edited by haute ecole rider: Mar 22 2011, 06:57 PM

[ghastley]

He scowled and his teeth ground, sending shivers up my spine.
That's a lot of teeth, so I'm not surprised grinding them has a major effect!

Earana doesn't have much to say about Teekeeus in the game. It will be interesting to see what you add to her side of the story.

[SubRosa]

“Hello, Hero of Chorrol!” He grinned as I groaned silently.
Oh noes! Julian has been found out again!

“Just as you can’t stay out of these things!”
Nice to see we are not the only ones to notice this trait of Julian's! Other women go shopping, she goes gate-crashing!

The Fighters Guild actually helping with a gate! What a refreshing change from the game, where they never leave their chapter houses! Oreyn of the cliffracer hair was the perfect choice for a representative. And I see Lum and Kurz gro-Baroth as well! The latter two have large parts in chapter 34 of the TF, so it was a joy to see them here.

his tail is all tied in knots.
I love this! Remind me to steal it!

“He’s always picking on the Altmer stereotype, Floris is.”
And I see Floris is not the only one to poke fun at it!

She has no respect for Guild regulations
Seeing that Earana is not a member of the Mages Guild, this does not seem remarkable!

As Sir Graves said, I am looking forward to seeing how you portray Earana. So far the best treatment she has gotten in a fan fic has been dog poo!



nits:
“Earana iss her name, and she iss up to trouble.
This is the second time Teekeus said her name was Earana. I am guessing it is a leftover from edits.

[Acadian]

'With that Earana hanging around the Great Oak, his tail is all tied in knots.”
I must echo SubRosa's warm endorsement of this! Wonderful. You then delightfully amplified it when that very tail could be heard swishing down the steps behind Teekeeus.

Using the Fighters Guild to augment things was a great idea.

I like that, at this point, you paint Teekeeus in kind of a neutral light. His nature is left open enough that we want to learn more about it. I am always predisposed to like Argonians, but sometimes, this one can be well, a bit of a challenge. I look forward to Julian's take on him as things develop. And of course, I look forward to meeting dear Earana.

[Grits]

I enjoyed the interplay between Oreyn and Piner.

I nodded as heavier footsteps, followed by the swishing sound of a tail brushing the treads reached us. A tall Argonian in a simple blue robe appeared on the staircase. His gaze moved from Floris to me, and his tongue flickered briefly between his scaled lips.

Teekeeus is so vividly Argonian, I am in awe! I’m very interested to see what Julian makes of the coming events.

[Olen]

SubRosa has already stolen all the great quotables from that part, and they were many.

You paint the different guilds so well, they all have a real feeling to them which makes them stand out. It all flows down from the guild head in many ways: Skingrad was proably productive enough but rather weird, Bruma was very organised (Kud-ei is there after all), Bruma was a farce, Anvil was very proper... And now Chorrol seems happy enough but perhaps not so tight, as I'd imagine Teekeeus running things.

Your protreyal of Teekeeus himself was good too, very neutral. I can imagine Julian won't dislike him, but won't really get on either. Erana on the other hand, well I'm sure that will be more interesting.

Great stuff building the setting so fast

[Thomas Kaira]

Hello, Teekeeus! I hope you don't have any... other, evil-like plans for that book you are now so close to getting your hands on. You swindled my wood elf good, after all!

I sure hope Earana doesn't end up dead here, too. Talendor managed to avoid it (at the cost of embarrassing her so as she'll probably just leave town to get away from the jeering stares), but the playing field is open for you. Still, that's a bridge to be crossed sometime later.

[Destri Melarg]

First, let me congratulate you on the creation of Midave Sendal. With an admirable economy of words you do so much to set up his character and establish reader empathy. I liked him immediately. You know, it occurs to me that taking him through the KOTN could prove to be interesting, if you are still hunting for ideas for your next story.

So now Julian is sober, healed, famous, and RICH!!

Well, at least for the moment. Why do I get the feeling that Julian’s pension will soon be lining Clesa’s purse? I bet Ernest will approve. His selection of clothing is short a few pieces. He can’t afford to clean horse-snot out of everything he owns! Go Blanco!!

Nice twist on the Anvil Recommendation. Ever since Julian agreed to do it I’ve been wondering how she was going to pass herself off as a merchant. As I said before, I have that same problem with the (horseless) Legion Rider killing the two battlemages. In my game it happens after you escort Martin to Cloud Ruler, not after Dagon Shrine. Although, if you do that recommendation before you start the main quest, and that Rider is patrolling on the Gold Road, he will still jump off his horse and kill the two battlemages. Every time! Makes you wonder at the effectiveness of guild training.

Anticipation is always worse than the reality.

QFT!

Blanco’s chapter was simply fantastic. Clesa’s primer on how to ride was informative without being preachy. Is there any doubt whatsoever that Julian is going to buy him? My only wonder is how Clesa considers 45 Septims and the promise of stud rights in perpetuity as a ‘deal’ for Julian!

*Ask and ye shall receive! I had to stop reading because I just learned that Clesa paid 90 Septims for Blanco!! Something fishy is going on!*

I know this is way late, but I can’t help it:

WARNING: RANT FORTHCOMING

[rant] I have to take offense to some of the comments made in the wake of Jared’s betrayal. We men are not perfect, and yes we do stray. Believe me when I say that Jared’s actions DO NOT constitute the actions of the ‘typical’ male! As a male who has strayed I can say with certainty that I do not consider it my finest hour. The fact that she left me over it was no less than I deserved and I still regret my actions even after several years. It was a painful episode that I have no desire to ever relive. I think that constitutes the attitude of the ‘typical’ male, or the typical human being with even the smallest shred of empathy for another. Jared’s betrayal was both vindictive and cruel in that he REVELED in the fact that Julian found him with another. That makes him an a$$hole, not a ‘typical’ male. [/rant]

Captain, count me in. See you behind the Flowing Bowl. Don’t forget your gloves, I’ll bring the boots!

Yes, kitty kitty, there are such people capable of living a long time without sex. They just find something else to do . . .

Yeah, like play video games and write fan-fiction?

*Destri ducks out of the room to avoid the flying toaster!*

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*He peeks around the corner to gauge the temperature of the room. Judging it safe, he tentatively enters and continues.*

So now I know what was haunting Gweden Farm! The fight against the Sirens was fantastic! Like Acadian said, Mysticism, Destruction, Conjuration, sword-play, and tumbling all told with an exciting and engaging energy. This ranks right up there with Fort Grief as one of your best battle sequences. I have to admit that I felt a little sorry for Faustina, Signy, and Tsarinna. They brought their end upon themselves by being so quick to go for the sword, but their crimes didn’t really hurt anybody.

Wow. I don’t have anything to add to what the others already said about the flashback chapter (I will call it that from now on because to dwell on any of the events therein is just too painful, and not just for Julian). Great writing!

Enter Blanco. This was a very welcome switch of gears from the last few chapters. I think that Paint was a great horse to help heal Julian, but Blanco is the steed of the Hero of Kvatch (sorry, Paint). They must cut quite the figure: white-haired, light-eyed Julian, Daedra Slayer on her hip, astride white, smart, lion-kicking Blanco. I bet the bards are going to dine for years on songs about them!

After a bad first impression I have come to admire Carahil. Felen Relas was already firmly established in his role of mentor and friend. Carahil has been revealed to us slowly, in layers (not unlike the removal of bandages in old horror movies ). I really like the way that you’ve done this. Rest assured that I have been taking notes for myself right alongside these comments. Don’t be surprised to see this technique stolen borrowed for my own story.

I have a question: Have we encountered this man with the azure-as-the-sky colored eyes? I mean, when you reveal him to us, are we all in for a massive collective facepalm?

Blanco’s origin story was a surprise, but a welcome one. Now he is even more indelibly etched into my consciousness!

Once again the others have already pointed out everything that struck me about the rebuilding of Kvatch. I thought that Winter Wolf’s comment was especially interesting. Julian may have been born in Anvil, but the Hero of Kvatch was forged in, well, Kvatch.

And I’ve always wondered why the game doesn’t recognize Savlian Matius as the obvious, and deserving, successor to the title of Count Kvatch. Even the mods don’t give the man his due.

Y’know, we could have gotten Dralgoner an appointment with Signy Home-Wrecker at the Flowing Bowl if Julian wasn’t so quick with the slashy-slashy! Nothing says morale boost like a 6’5” buxom Nord!

Hmm, it seems that Count Hassildor and I are of the same mind when it comes to Savlian Matius. I can see that the Count’s antennae is definitely up. Even now he seeks to use the situation in Kvatch for political ammunition. His wariness of Ocato hints at a long history between the two. I wonder if you plan to explore that in the future, now that her dealings with the Mages Guild will be bringing her into more contact with the Count.

Poor Aelwin, now he has to suffer through the monotonous days of retirement alone. Maybe while Julian is out rescuing cats she can save one up for him (oops, Grits beat me to it). And I can think of a few male Bosmer that Blanco could practice his kicks on!

As Julian cecks her gear and reviews her spells before launching herself into yet another gate I am reminded of only one thing . . . this!

Finally, I have no hesitation in saying that I can’t stand Teekeeus! I always give the book to Earana, even though Finger of the Mountain is a ridiculously bad spell! Let’s just hope that Julian’s solution to the ‘Earana problem’ is not the same as Buffy’s! Though we have already acknowledged that Julian is quick with the slashy-slashy!

And with that, I am all caught up!

[haute ecole rider]

@ghastley: I hope you enjoy this version of Earana. Actually when I play this recommendation, it’s a tossup which side I take. I can’t make myself like one more than the other. We’ll see how Julian handles the both of them when she completes the recommendation.

@SubRosa: Given the recent onslaught by female protagonists on the Mall of Chorrol, it might be a relief that Julian won’t be joining them anytime soon! You have major parts for Lum and Kurz? I look forward to Chapter 34 then! And you’re welcome to steal borrow my tail line!

@Acadian: Teekeeus’s tail is a part of him, why shouldn’t people comment on it? Better than saying His underwear is all in a bunch!

@Grits: I’m glad you picked up on the unspoken friendship between Oreyn and Piner. And yes, there is no doubt of Teekeeus’s race!

@Olen: I think you called it right on the Guilds, and how Julian is going to get along with Teekeeus.

@TK: Well, I’ve always seen Teekeeus as being rather, well, unimaginative. As for how Julian handles Earana, I hope everyone likes her solution.

@Destri: Wow! All caught up now! Thanks for all your comments, they are much appreciated. Midave Sendal just popped up from the crowd at the Guild Plaza, and has stuck with both Julian and me. He will have a much larger role in the next story, but it has never occurred to me that he is the perfect person to pursue the KOTN questline. And yes, Destri, Jared is an A-hole, not a typical male. And I had a feeling you would so totally love Blanco. After you and Olen kept asking more of Paint than poor Paint was capable of delivering (charging up the steps into the Chapel of Kvatch?), I figured you would totally adore the horse Blanco is. Thank you for your compliments on my reveal of Carahil’s nature. As for the azure-eyed male, well, yes, we have already met him. I mentioned that way back in my comments to Chapter 10.5 (Thread Two, post 73). Yes, I’ve promised myself to see Julian bring Aelwin the next little kitty she rescues. As for the Earana problem, well, keep reading!

Now we meet the other side of the Chorrol Mages recommendation.

***********************
Chapter 25.3: Earana’s Bad Side

The last of the night’s chill lingered beneath the sheltering branches of the Great Oak as I stepped out into the dappled sunlight of the plaza. I breathed deeply of the late fall air, the smell of the fallen leaves and dry grass barely detectable beneath that of stones warming in the sun. A breeze rustled the autumn debris around the cobblestones.

I looked up at the Great Oak, its branches already half bare, the remaining leaves turned russet brown by the frosts that now occurred nightly. So another recommendation that isn’t a real test of my magical abilities. Or is there something I don’t know about?

“Lovely day, isn’t it?” The Dunmer’s voice brought me back to the present. I lowered my gaze to meet Oreyn’s scarlet eyes. “Are you with the Mages Guild?”

I nodded silently, aware of the approaching guardsman beyond the Fighters Guild Champion.

“That’s too bad, we could’ve used you.” Oreyn shrugged, turning for the Fighters Guild headquarters, which stood next door. He paused a few strides away and glanced back. “I don’t know about your fighting skills, but I have no doubt you’ve got the stones for it.”

I decided not to take offense and chuckled, shaking my head. “After half a lifetime in the Legion,” I remarked, “I’m looking to get out of fighting. It’s just not as easy as I hoped.”

Oreyn’s fierce glower lightened as his teeth flashed, then he was walking away. I turned my gaze from the Champion to the guardsman, waiting a polite distance away.

“Good morning ma’am,” he greeted me. Beneath his helm, a young face held a slight uncertainty.

“And a good morning to you too, sir,” I smiled. I’ve forgotten that I can sometimes intimidate the rookies. And here I am, trying not to be intimidated by the Champion of the Fighters Guild!

That doubt eased in the young soldier’s face. “Captain Bittneld has asked if you would meet him at the castle? He’ll be in the county hall for the next hour or so.”

“I’ll find him,” I nodded. “But do you know where I can find Earana?”

“The Altmer?” the guardsman glanced around the plaza. “She stays at the Grey Mare, but spends much of her time here. She should be on her way -“ he stopped at the sight of a tall female figure approaching. “That would be her, ma’am.”

“Thanks,” I said. “And your name is -?”

“Maccalan Parmenion,” the youngster replied, uncertain again.

“Thank you, Parmenion,” I nodded at him before turning south. The Altmer woman he had pointed out to me stopped several strides away, but I kept walking in her direction. She watched as I drew near.

“Hail, Hero of Kvatch!” Her voice held thinly disguised scorn. I stifled my customary sigh. “Are you with the Mages Guild now?”

“Yes, ma’am, I am,” I kept my voice neutral.

“How surprising,” her brown eyes raked me from top to bottom and back. I resisted the impulse to look down at my simple linens, but instead kept my gaze on her. “A former Legion soldier, and a Redguard to boot?” Her eyes turned calculating. “Hmm, but it could be useful,” she muttered to herself.

Do I let on that I know something about her and Teekeeus? Or do I hear her out first? I decided silence was the best course of action for the moment.

As I expected, Earana didn’t stay silent for long. “You can be of use to me after all, Julian of Anvil,” she sneered. “There’s this book I’ve been looking for. I finally discovered its location, and I want you to go get it.”

I considered her words for a few moments. That’s what she’s here for? Or is she after Teekeeus? Beyond her shoulder, I could see Parmenion and another guardsman pause in their patrols, surreptitiously eavesdropping on us. “What’s the name of the book?” I asked neutrally.

“It’s called Fingers of the Mountain, and it’s located at Cloud Top.” Earana shifted her weight impatiently from one foot to the other. “It’s important that I get it.”

“Why can’t you get it yourself?” I asked. “An Altmer like you ought to be able to protect herself with plenty of potent spells.”

“What?” Earana’s voice dripped with distaste as a male Altmer, a longbow at his back, joined the two guards in their barely concealed interest. “Me go out there in the wilds? Are you out of your mind?” The blond hunter echoed my unspoken sentiment with a roll of his eyes.

“Where is Cloud Top?” I pulled my attention back to Earana.

“It’s up in the mountains north of here,” Earana pointed toward Northgate. “Don’t waste any time, and don’t speak anything of it to anyone at the guild chapter here.” I stiffened as she took a step closer to me until she towered over me. “If you tell that Teekeeus about it, you’ll be sorry you did!”

I stood my ground and squared my shoulders. “Are you threatening me, Earana?” I raised my voice just enough to be clearly heard by the guardsmen and the hunter. The guardsmen’s hands drifted toward their swords, and the Altmer reached for his unstrung bow.

“I’m just warning you,” Earana seemed oblivious to the change in the guards’ demeanor. “Teekeeus wants to control all that power for himself, but I won’t let that book fall into his hands! Only those capable of handling it should have access, not anyone else, and certainly not Teekeeus!”

I kept my gaze on her, keeping my hands open at my sides. “If you have a bone to pick with Teekeeus, leave me out of it,” I kept tight rein on the pilus that threatened to emerge. “I don’t appreciate being treated like imp chips by a mere Altmer mage who’s too frightened of a little dirt to go after what she really wants.” I stepped back to the raised curb that encircled the Great Oak. My eyes locked on Earana, I set my pack and weapons down.

Her gaze flared, and I sensed her right fingers twitching, gathering magicka. The two guardsmen behind her gripped their hilts and drew their swords partway out. I flung my left hand out toward Earana. The feint caused her to flinch, and red smoke flared around her fingers before dissipating in the dappled sunlight. “Hold it right there, Earana!” my voice snapped with all its old authority. “If you want me to go fetch that book, you will cease and desist all attempts at threatening me, verbally or otherwise.”

Earana took a step back in surprise, her eyes showing white all around the brown irises. Then her brows drew together, and she drew a breath. I stepped forward until I stood just within her reach. “Continue to disrespect me, and you can find that fetching book yourself.” I pitched my voice lower, with just enough force to carry to the onlookers. In the corner of my vision, I sensed the hunter’s slow grin. “Which shall it be?”

Earana blinked, and we both became aware of a gathering of townspeople watching from a safe distance. Her eyes flickered around the plaza before returning to me. “If you expect me to apologize -“ she began, the scowl freezing on her face.

“Oh, no, apologies are no good,” I cut her off with an emphatic shake of my head. “Either you treat me with courtesy and respect from this moment forward, or you can forget about that book you’re so desperate for.” I let the old smile, the smile I reserved only for combat, the smile that hid my nerves, surface. Her jaw clenched at something she saw in my face. “It’s up to you, Earana.”

It took all my willpower to turn my back on the enraged Altmer and walk back to my gear. A whirling knot formed between my shoulder blades as I bent down to pick up the pack. Hopefully with all these people around, she won’t pull something. But I doubt she’ll hold back if there are no witnesses around. I straightened up, my pack slung over one shoulder and my enchanted weapons in one hand. Across the plaza, Modryn Oreyn and the two Orsimer I recognized from last night watched from the stoop of the Fighters Guild headquarters. Near them, a couple stood together, their gazes on Earana behind me. Two dogs, both the same size as wolves but with black and tan markings, sat one on either side, panting in the warm sun.

Captain Bittneld stood in the middle of Oak Way, hands on hips and feet braced apart. As our gazes locked, he nodded curtly at me and remained in position. I walked past Earana toward him.

“Are you going to Cloud Top?” Earana exclaimed. I shot her a glare.

“I didn’t survive as long in the Legion as I did by going into combat with damaged gear.” I did not hesitate but kept walking toward Bittneld and the smithy beyond. His gaze slid past me in the Altmer’s direction. I stopped beside him, still facing south. “Hello Captain. Parmenion gave me your message. I was planning to find you after I dropped my gear off with Rasheda.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Bittneld finally turned away from the Great Oak. “I’ll walk with you.”

[SubRosa]

So another recommendation that isn’t a real test of my magical abilities. Or is there something I don’t know about?
Welcome to the Mages Guild, where the ability to use magic is totally unnecessary!

Parmenion? He seems a bit young for that name. But I suppose the old man had to be young sometime. I just hope he is cautious around young whippersnappers named Alexander!

“Why can’t you get it yourself?”
This is what the game never explains. There is really no reason for Earana to even be wasting her time with the player, when all she has to do is walk up and get it herself.

I don’t appreciate being treated like imp chips by a mere Altmer mage who’s too frightened of a little dirt to go after what she really wants.
Yay for the imp chips! Cyrodiil's favorite snack!

You certainly gave us a tense encounter with Earana, she who is too hoity-toity to tip-toe through the tulips. Like Teekeus, she is clearly used to having things her way, and does not care who she offends. I have always thought the two were made for one another.

All of this Earanaing lately has gotten me thinking of maybe writing a short piece from her point of view. Maybe I could call it Wicked...

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Mar 24 2011, 03:48 AM