The Famous Five, Heroes and Villains of the Age of Martin Septim Options

[SubRosa]

Poor Guilbert, forced to stay in the Newlands while sober! I loved his remarks about there not even being jobs killing rats! Again, I loved Gwen's haughty attitude toward the orc rabble and intolerable conditions. Not to mention her obvious frustrations over the fetch and carry recommendation missions.

[Acadian]

Very enjoyable! You continue to maintain a nice mixture of Gwen writing her notes and inserting active dynamic moments. Very smooth and natural to read.

'but frankly, at her wits’ end by this point with the feral Khajiit and rogue mages and death-trap wells and struggling bitterly to survive. '
This is very Gwen!

I enjoyed that Gwen lingered long enough to share Guilbert's impressive warhammer demonstration with us. A delightful touch!

'Guilbert has just informed me that he has finished his plate of mashed potato and beef steak, and is getting strapped back into his iron cuirass. To Chorrol!'
I love the style you used to end this. Gwen was actively recording her notes when she was interrupted by Guilbert to continue their travels. Once again, a seamless blend of Gwen's journal and what is actively happening. As I mentioned above, that makes for a very interesting and unique dynamic in this story that you are very clearly adept with.

[Grits]

He is a terrible impostor, being totally sober (in spite of his surroundings).

I just love Gwen’s tone in this installment. It seems that Guilbert is enjoyable company. Her humorous retelling of the warhammer incident had an affectionate quality, no doubt influenced by the two of them sharing their histories while they were on the road.

The last lines were delightful and engaging. To Chorrol with Gulibert and Gwen!

[Ceidwad]

SubRosa - There are too many orcs frequenting the Newlands. Frankly, one orc is too many! Let's hope Guilbert's lot in life improves from here on.

Acadian - Thanks! I'm glad you like the diary format and the way I'm trying to mix action and reflection. One drawback is that compared to the other style of fanfics it can get very dull very easily: today Gwen did this, this, and this. So I have to try and visualise the scene as Gwen is writing. That's why it helps to have a time of day an to sometime update several times a day; it helps me to decide what events have happened thus far and therefore what Gwen knows at that point.

Also I have to take some liberties with realism; realistically a normal person may not remember, much less bother to record several lines of spoken dialogue in a diary, but I get around that by assuming that Gwen is a diary nut and is happy to spend hours writing in it per day, and that as an Altmer she has better-than-human memory.

Grits - Thanks. While the Jemane brothers are around, they will cerainly be entertaining, I hope. They will develop a rapport with Gwen and when they eventually leave she will miss them.

Midnight – The Oak and Crosier tavern, Chorrol

Reynald and Guilbert have been reunited. Guilbert could hardly contain his emotion as he rushed to greet his brother. Initially, Reynald apparently thought he was staring at his own reflection in the water, shouting at Guilbert to ‘get out of my head, water-man’. But, as I took Reynald through it step-by-step, the realisation seemed to shake the ale-induced haze from his memory and he recalled his brother. Much shaking of hands and embracing ensued. The Bretons are more rugged than mer in their greetings and displays of affection, but the sentiments are the same.

This display of familial love reminded me of my own family. I am an only child, but my cousins, Bronwyn and Caithalor, lived near to the royal court in Alinor and are to me just as a sister and a brother. Bronwyn is a promising alchemical student, deeply self-reflective, who has written a great treatise on master alchemists of the past and their secrets. Caithalor, on the other hand, shuns the arts magicka save for the school of Restoration, and is a captain in the Alinor city Guard. Two more different people you could not hope to meet, yet, like the contrast between Reynald’s drunkenness and Guilbert’s sobriety, nothing takes away from the ties that bind them together, not even years spent apart.

After they had shared stories of their lives since the fateful day they were separated on their family farm - Guilbert of his life in the Fighters Guild, and Reynald of his life as the Chorrol charity case – they turned to me and asked me if I would accompany them back to their farm, called Weatherleah. Guilbert said that it would probably be ‘one hell of a mess’ at this stage, but both brothers were agreed: they wanted to start a new life at their old home, and were willing to do whatever it took to rebuild.

I accepted their request. They may be vulgar and not much blessed by Julianos, but, truth be told, I actually like them. With his display of his prowess with warhammers, Guilbert made me laugh as hard as I have since I had met Robért on the White Rose – nearly a month ago – and we had played Colovian poker. He took my teasing in good grace, too, commenting that his compatriots in the Fighters Guild even had a drinking song for him. Apparently, it went something like this:

Journeyman Jemane,
his swing is rather lame.
Journeyman Jemane,
he can't dish out no pain.
He calls himself 'Wolfsbane',
But he's so very tame
Journeyman Jemane,
his swing is rather lame.

He fought the wolves of Kvatch,
But found himself outmatched;
He took on Skingrad’s bears,
But ran home jolly scared.
Between just me and you,
Anvil’s imps he slew;
But Journeyman Jemane,
His swing’s still rather lame.

His hammer’s heavy head,
May make you sigh with dread;
But watch him swing it round,
You’ll feel safe and sound.
Cos Journeyman Jemane,
He can’t dish out no pain;
Journeyman Jemane,
His swing’s so very lame.

Oh, how he makes me laugh! He may have a rather simple-looking face, but such self-deprecating humour betrays a small spark of intelligence and wit in Guilbert. His ability to laugh at his own failures would be alien to my parents and indeed myself, and has no doubt contributed to his general mediocrity, but it makes him endearing and charming.

Further, and despite his previously comical form with his hammer, he displayed genuine skill when we were threatened by a group of imps on the Red Ring Road. He swatted one away with a sideways sweep that betrayed a technique obviously well-honed from years of practice, whilst the others were taken down by a passing soldier of the Legion.

Indeed, travelling with him has made me feel safe for the first time since I arrived here. If we run into anything on the way to his farm, I am certain he will be fine, even if he has asked me to accompany them due to my restorative skills. Indeed, I feel that it is I who is in need of his help, rather than the contrary. I may be able to heal wounds and mend broken limbs, but I am helpless against a highwayman or bandit, whose weapons are of iron and steel, not of magicka.

Guilbert has almost been like a bodyguard on this short trip. Even Reynald is not so bad, when you get used to the smell. Azura’s mercy, did I really just write that? That shows how much I have condescended in this hostile environment. Perhaps my travels have been good for me in that way. After all, my parents did tell me that I would ‘grow up’ in Cyrodiil. Possibly they had meant that I would learn how to heal Superior wounds, rather than how to survive the company of Bretons, but nonetheless they were right: I am learning. Just as the proprietor of this tavern in which I am staying has proven that Khajiit may be civilised (although most are still clearly brutes), so I truly know that ignorance does not make one a bad person, as Guilbert’s example attests to.

The Jemanes are eager to proceed to Weatherleah, but they have no clue where it is, save that it is south of Chorrol. Small wonder, given that they have not seen it since their tender childhood years. We will therefore question the townspeople and Fighters Guild as to its whereabouts tomorrow, as well as preparing for the journey. Guilbert and Reynald will need weapons and armour of good quality. Guilbert’s ramshackle iron cuirass, which barely fits him, is simply no good. Reynald, meanwhile, does not look too well-protected in his linens, nor – and equally importantly – does he look (or smell) particularly attractive in them either.

I can spare the septims. I have 563 remaining, and in two weeks I can collect my next deposit – another 1,000 septims. If it means avoiding Surilies vintage and living in guild halls for the next 15 days, it will be a price worth paying for the Jemanes’ safety against anything we should meet.

By Azura, I must cease to write now. It is 2 A.M. – time to retire to the comfort of the nice big bed here in my room. Guilbert and Reynald are staying at Reynald’s home here in town; we will meet up tomorrow at lunchtime, in this tavern.

This post has been edited by Ceidwad: Jul 3 2011, 05:39 PM

[Acadian]

This was a fascinating growth spurt on Gwen's part! She is very much Gwen throughout, but the obvious importance that family plays for her shines through. As does her evolving acceptance of the lesser races. I don't see it as a conscious effort on her part, but she is indeed learning what she will need to lead a culturally diverse guild of mages from the Arch Mage's tower. I love how, in her journal, she even questions her own changing attitudes.

I'm actually not worried about her attitude toward Argonians. I mean Teekeus is Teekeus, but Gwen has already met Deetsan. Once she meets Kud-Ei and Tar-Meena, I expect she will quickly and fully see the beauty of those fortunate enough to be blessed with tails.

I think you are doing a superb job showing us the evolution of a future Arch Mage.

[Grits]

Gwen’s willing to sacrifice her own luxury and comfort for two weeks to outfit the Jemanes is so endearing. She makes some unflattering but no doubt true observations about the Breton brothers, but that doesn’t seem to diminish the value she sees in them. I really like that about her.

[Ceidwad]

Thanks for your kind praise, Acadian, but I feel I'm going to have to be Harald Steel-Quill for a second here and clarify:

Growth with provisos and caveats, I might add. Remember, as she says, most Khajiit are still clearly brutes. It'll be a long time before anything approaching a theory of racial equality forms in this Altmer's mind.

Also, we should be wary of reading this history 'backwards' here. Gwenyan has no ambitions of being Arch-Mage at his point; she just wants to get the education she needs to go back home and get a good position in Alinor. So leading a cohort of multiracial, multicultural mages is not on her mind at present.

Edit: having read your comments again, I believe you understood that written above. Nonetheless, I'll leave thge comment up for other readers.

This post has been edited by Ceidwad: Jun 26 2011, 03:38 PM

[SubRosa]

You make Guilbert really come alive in Gwenyan's telling of the tale. Including his hidden ability with the warhammer. Gwenyan shows quite a bit of generosity too, in buying them both new armor. While her Altmer superiority is still in full-force, we can see her learning to adapt to 'roughing it' with the lesser species.

[mALX]

The "diary" style of your writing keeps the story moving at perfect pace - enhanced by your ability to sum up quickly both characters and storylines into visual imagery !! Awesome Write !!!

[Ceidwad]

Acadian - Thanks for your perceptive remarks. This entry was indeed a 'growth' moment for Gwen. She can't believe she is actually buddying up with a rogue like Reynald, but needs must! She's still no Khajiit-lover, though. As for Argonians, I suspect she respects them more than Khajiit due to their greater ability in magic. But I haven't totally decided how I'm going to write the Bravil reccommendation yet!

Grits - I think this is a giant leap of imagination from Gwen, so I'm sure she's glad you find it endearing! Thanks for your continued feedback.

SubRosa - Thanks. Guilbert's song was quite fun to write, I even have a tune for it, shame I'm too technologically backward to know how to record or upload it! I'm glad you like Guilbert's role in the story, I think it's a lot more fun to travel with someone than without.

mALX - Glad you continue to enjoy it. Thanks for your kind comments. I should point out, I love Maxical's adventures (or should that be misadventures). I'm working through them now. The pranks she pulled when she was at the university - hilarious! - have given me a little idea for something in the future, when Gwen finally reaches the university, involving Robért Permane, a full-of-himself Mage Scholar, a telekinesis spell, and a chamberpot.

NB: I've added a couple of extra stanzas to Guilbert Jemane's drinking song above. I'm thinking about expanding it a bit more and making it into a serious epic, like the medieval romantic ones. Give me some thoughts on it.

Next up: Time to begin preparations to go to Weatherleah, with amusing results.

Rain’s Hand 2, 3E430 – Chorrol

11 A.M.

The month of Rain’s Hand is living up to its name. My hair is full of water as I write this. I really ought to have worn my robe today, instead of my velvet ballgown. This has clung to my skin, attracting much attention from the menfolk of the town. It also drew some mocking words from the smith here, who nigh-on laughed me out of her store, but has nonetheless agreed to fit Reynald and Guilbert for a new suit of chainmail armour each. I must admit this was not what I had envisaged. Evidently, Chorrol’s smith does not import elven steel from Firsthold, but there was really no need for the Redguard to snigger at my suggestion as though I had asked for her to make a boar sprout wings and fly.

She said I might find some if I hunted around in Cyrodilic Ayleid ruins long enough, “but then again, from the looks of you, you’d probably sleepwalk into a trap. Typical mage, with your fancy ballgowns and total lack of common sense. No, what you need is solid Colovian mail for your friends. That’ll keep them safe, and I can actually sell you some of that. Anything else you need?”

I told her that Guilbert used a warhammer, and Reynald a shortsword.

Suddenly, her eyebrows raised, she said:

“Reynald? Reynald Jemane? Alright, I’ll sell you a weapon for him, but don’t come crying to me when he wounds himself with it, or breaks it, or blunts it, or tries to modify it to store ale in and breaks the pommel in the process. No returns, you hear?”

I agreed. I then asked her if she knew anything about the location of Weatherleah.

“Ask Sabine Laul at the Fighters Guild. She knows the area well.”

Thanking her semi-sincerely for her help, I agreed to return later with Reynald and Guilbert to pick the goods up. In the meantime, she gave me a receipt:

“From Fire and Steel, where the service is always friendly. If it isn’t, well, who cares, we’re the only weapons dealer in Chorrol! Hahahaha – Rasheda”

2 Chainmail cuirasses

2 sets of chainmail greaves

2 pairs of leather boots

Fine steel warhammer

Fine steel shortsword

Total: 395 septims

Signed: Rasheda

Payment received Rain’s Hand 2, 3E430

Both the weapons are of high quality steel. The whole package deal cost about 400 septims. The weapons gleam beautifully, but I get the impression the smith knew their real value to be somewhat lower. Still, I am satisfied. They will help keep the brothers safe, and I have enough septims to tide me over until the next deposit comes through. Maybe it is an extravagance to spend hundreds of septims on ensuring the safety of men I have barely met. But Guilbert is the closest thing I have to a friend in Cyrodiil. If it is an extravagance, then it is worth it. What good are fine meals and clothes if my friends are torn apart by bandits or beasts?

Reynald and Guilbert have no idea about this, incidentally. They are due here in about half an hour. The surprise they will have!

11 P.M. – Chorrol Mages Guild Hall

Reynald and Guilbert looked like authentic Cyrodilic knights in their new equipment! Rasheda fitted their armour at no extra charge, and even showed Reynald how best to use his weapon and avoid cutting himself.

Reynald did not stop playing with the shortsword for twenty minutes. He was as a child in a baker’s shop, excitedly eyeing up sweetrolls and getting his fingers all over them and the shop owner irritated. Indeed, Rasheda’s expression rapidly changed from one of humour to one of indignation as Reynald chipped her wooden cupboard while attacking a weapons-testing dummy in the corner of the shop.

Guilbert’s reaction was rather more grown-up, but equally excited. He delighted in his new warhammer. “They won’t be calling me ‘Journeyman Jemane’ when they see me march into Cheydinhal with this colossus”, he beamed. Trying out his new hammer, he gave another demonstration of his skill, Rasheda having been forewarned to give him wide berth and having stepped back.

No laughter resulted on this occasion. Far from flying out of his hands, the weapon danced finely with his body in a nimble yet strong display of prowess. Guilbert commented how much better the hammer felt than the old iron one he had used on the road to Chorrol – the balance of the weapon was much finer, he said. I am not familiar with the arts of melee combat, but I have just observed directly how important a soldier’s equipment is. Guilbert was so pleased with his weapon that he described it as the best he had ever used.

Thanking me, he said: “You are a true friend, Gwen. We have only known each other for days, yet you have given me my professional pride back with this gesture. I promise, I’ll make it up to you one day. We may have been poor farmers at Weatherleah, but my father was rich. He became a treasure hunter in later life, you see. If any of our wealth is still buried under the wreckage and cobwebs that no doubt exist at the estate now, we will surely use it to compensate you for this generosity.”

I replied that I was happy to do it for him. What is 400 septims to a daughter of Alinor courtiers like myself? I have seen much that is good in Guilbert, who is an honest and decent man. And his brother, perhaps, means well, despite his shiftlessness and drunkenness.

Weatherleah is located south of Chorrol, approximately four hours’ walk away, nearly half the way to Kvatch. The three of us have agreed to leave for there in two days’ time, after I have had some rest here in Chorrol. Guilbert and I went to the Fighters Guild hall to ask the aforementioned Sabine Laul, the resident blacksmith. Whoever heard of a female Breton blacksmith? Despite her unkemptness, she was friendly and helpful.

I am staying here at the guild hall tonight, while Guilbert and Reynald have retired to Reynald’s house. I offered to pay for their stay at the Oak and Crosier, but Reynald insisted on returning to his house, where great quantities of ale and his favourite book, The Lusty Argonian Maid, reside.

Despite my attempts to convince him that the Crosier was a fine place with an entirely civilised Khajiit proprietor, Reynald would not budge. “Really, Gwynne (sic), thanks for the offer, but you can’t down a flagon and sit in your undergarments in that posh nosh. Guilbert and I have some male bonding to do, anyhow.” What he meant by that comment, I dread to contemplate. There are some things that not even a questioning, thinking Altmer should ponder.

Surprisingly, though I had feared another encounter with Earana upon my return to town, she has been nowhere to be found. According to the mages here, Earana has not been seen for days. It seems that some time after I left Chorrol on the 23rd of First Seed, she entered the guild hall and confronted Teekeeus. None of the mages know what was said between them, for the silver-haired witch met the Argonian in his private quarters, where the Argonian has a soundproof door. However, Angalmo saw her storm out and leave for the Grey Mare. She has not been heard from since. What has happened to her is apparently a mystery, and Teekeeus will not tell any of the mages even the slightest thing about their meeting.

At any rate, what do I care what has happened to her? I am simply relieved she is no longer in town and will not be a threat to me. Not even being forced to share with Contumelorius tonight can dent my sense of contentment, despite his snoring being clearly audible over my quill’s scribbles here in the basement of the guild hall. Athragar has promised to lend me his single for tomorrow, thank Azura.

It is now 1 A.M. – another long night of writing. I have been physically exhausted since 9 P.M., yet an urge to write has kept me awake and alert, until now. Must retire, hope the sheets aren’t too badly soiled.

This post has been edited by Ceidwad: Jul 3 2011, 05:29 PM

[Acadian]

A delightfully entertaining layover in Chorrol! There were numerous times here where Gwen was quite - dare I say it - sweet. Despite her protestations to the contrary, at the moment, 400 septims is a rather significant chunk of change for her budget. I think her exposure to the Jemanes is a good thing as she sees a bit of Imperial life with steel and without magic.

Like Gwen, I'm relieved to see Earana gone, at least for the moment.

[Grits]

Their preparations were very entertaining. The image of Gwen in a soaking, skin-tight velvet ball gown talking to Rasheda and Sabine Laul of all people was particularly funny. Though perhaps she toweled off before she went to the Fighters Guild. Rasheda’s attitude was hilarious, but I also enjoyed her professionalism as she outfitted the brothers. What a relief that Guilbert showed some skill with his new warhammer.

It is now 1 A.M. – another long night of writing. I have been physically exhausted since 9 P.M., yet an urge to write has kept me awake and alert, until now. Must retire, hope the sheets aren’t too badly soiled.

I’m sure many of us can relate to this, except for the part about the soiled sheets, hopefully.

[Ceidwad]

Acadian - Indeed, you might say Guilbert has metaphorically taken his warhammer to Gwen's piggy bank! Ah well, thirteen days left now before that fat deposit comes in again!

I've a feeling this won't be the last we see of Earana. She'll be back!

Grits - Did they have towels in the Third Era? I don't think they would have helped the ballgown situation, to be honest. Nothing to do but endure the stares until she can change!

Sheets are always fresh in Ceidwad's house! However, it's known that medieval beds were not always the most hygenic, even in the aristocracy (I base Cyrodiil on medieval Europe; I find it's pretty similar in many ways). Maybe the Mages Guild ought to look into hygeine solutions like using frost spells to kill vermin, like Jerric!

Next up: Gwen has a day off and shares in a game of Colovian poker, and Harald Steel-Quill tells us an interesting historical anecdote about Pelagius the Mad. Note that this will be my last update for some time. I'm starting a new job soon, and I want that to go well, so I may not update for a few weeks. I'm sure you're all sad about this.

Rain’s Hand 3, 3E430 – Chorrol Mages Guild

2 P.M.

It has been a day of leisure thus far. As a result of retiring late last night, I did not rise until 10 A.M. For the first time in about two weeks, I have bathed, and, by Azura, was it ever needed. It had been on my mind to bathe for some days, but the combination of the rain and soiled bedsheets here were the last straw, and left me feeling like one of Namira’s wretched creatures. Guild halls are one of the few public places in Cyrodiil where one can bathe, as inns and the like generally lack the coin to install such facilities. I was able to get into the hall’s baths this morning, unbeknownst to the other mages and to avoid any prying eyes.

My robe and red velvet ballgown are being washed at present, so I have slipped into an outfit from the common wardrobes of the hall. There has not been a female resident here for some time, so, at present, I look rather ridiculous, wearing a black & burgundy fur coat fit for a male Altmer. It at least fits me in my dimensions, if not my shape. The alternative of wearing one of Athragar’s spare outfits or wearing Contumelorius’ reserve quilted doublet would have made me appear even more of a laughing stock.

News has appeared in today’s local newspaper, the Black Horse Courier, of the confirmation of the divorce of Crown Prince Geldall Septim from his estranged wife, Martina Septim (née Montevillius). By all reports in Alinor, the Septim heir had tired of her incessant nagging and ageing face long ago, but had stuck with the charade of a marriage to appease his father, and plans to wed a minor nobleman’s daughter from Skingrad. Septim is 53; his prospective bride is 28. Cyrodiil’s nobility privately mutters its disapproval; the Emperor is said to be furious with his son in private. They are likely no different, though. Imperials have never been as good as Altmer at forming stable, lasting pairs, due to their shorter lives and ill-considered matches.

Over lunch, the hall’s members enthusiastically discussed the possible consequences of this development, and what it might mean for the Guild and Chorrol. Angalmo, gobbling down mouthfuls of bread with ham and cheese, argued that it would mean greater royal favour for the city, as a city of Colovia, and the Mages Guild. One might think that, given that Geldall is Prince of Nibenea, the other half of Cyrodiil, and a swing in favour might now occur to the Prince of Colovia (Emnan Septim, Uriel’s second-born) and thus the region of Colovia too.

Frankly, I think this wishful, at best. Everyone knows that the princedom of Nibenea is far more important to the Septims than that of Colovia, containing as it does key strategic cities like Leyawiin and Cheydinhal - bastions against Morrowind and the hordes of beastfolk from Black Marsh.*

This having been said, it would indeed be good news for the Guild were Emnan and Colovia to rise to favour, as he is a scholar-mage, educated at the Arcane University, unlike his elder brother, who, as is the Cyrodilic custom for firstborn sons, has taken the knightly path.

*Editor’s Note: The elven magister is quite right. In the past, Princes of Nibenea were known to get away with far more than an unwise divorce, such was the importance of these cities’ loyalty to the Emperor and the wealth of the Princes who acted as their champions in the royal family. Although the Emperor directly ruled and controlled the Imperial City, he traditionally delegated power in other parts of Cyrodiil and Tamriel to his trusted friends and sons, who gained a measure of political power and an income in return for swearing allegiance to him. The cities of Nibenea (Cheydinhal, Bruma, Bravil and Leyawiin) and Colovia (Chorrol, Skingrad and Anvil) in turn expected their Prince to represent their interests in Cyrodilic politics. The Emperor generally remained more powerful than the Princes, with control over the legions and royal treasury. At various times, Nibenean and Colovian Princes plotted or attempted rebellion, but competition between the two regions, together with the Emperor’s control of the legions and the loyalty of certain Cyrodilic cities, like Bravil and Skingrad, to the Emperor, always resulted in such rebellions failing, sometimes spectacularly. Nonetheless, the Princes retained political power and the Emperor could not afford to alienate them, as the threat of rebellion and unrest could destablilise the province, leaving other provinces of Tamriel to think of making mischief of their own. This meant that they were able to get away with a lot.

It is said that, whilst King of Solitude and Prince of Nibenea, Thoriz Pelagius Septim, later Pelagius Septim III – the infamous Pelagius the Mad of which much of interest has been written – out of some demented insanity ordered his emissaries to interrupt a session in the Elder Council Chambers in a most inappropriate manner. Wearing only their feather-adorned hats and loincloths, the emissaries are said to have snuck into the chambers from a secret basement passageway, introduced themselves to all present and, half-naked, shaken hands with over two dozen Elder Councillors, including the High Chancellor Gaius Silventius, before all had finally been restrained by the Palace Guard. Whilst uncertain, this story, if true, would have been a breathtaking public outrage. This story was reported by at least two separate near-contemporaries, though critics suggest that the passageway never existed, or cannot be proved to have existed, as there is no trace of it in the current Chambers. The story, according to this view, is one of many stories about Pelagius which are exaggerated or apocryphal. Tsathenes’ summary, The Madness of Pelagius, mentions other tales such as this and is worth reading for further insight into the mad emperor’s life. Nonetheless, if true, Pelagius did not seem to suffer any consequence from his uncle, Emperor Cephorus, nor did he suffer any consequences for his other reported misdemeanours, of which some surely must contain some real historical truth.

11 P.M.

The guild hall met in the library this evening for merriment, wine, and Colovian poker. Contumelorius Florius refused to take part, as the devout Imperial considers gambling dishonesty, and a sin against Zenithar. It is his loss. Much entertainment ensued. Although I fell out of the game early, having little resources to commit to sport, and Angalmo displayed a passive caution throughout, Athragar, Teekeeus and Alberic Litte faced up to each other, with a most exhilarating climax. After Alberic had finally been knocked out, grumbling about the ‘Akatosh-forsaken hands’ he kept being dealt, the Argonian and the Bosmer were pitted against each other in a colossal hand which would decide who won the pot of 250 septims.

Athragar led the way with some audacious optimism and bluffing, backed up with a Fortify Speechcraft effect which I could detect, but which the others apparently did not. Initially, it seemed to work. Somehow, he appeared to have convinced Teekeeus that he would have a royal house. Indeed, in his hand Athragar had the Empr. Uriel Septim VII of diamonds and the Prince Geldall Septim of diamonds, along with an eight of rubies and a four of diamonds. The Prince Ebel Septim of diamonds, meanwhile, lay on the table.

When the Prince Emnan Septim of diamonds was turned over, Athragar began to raise the stakes, placing his septims – 125 of them – entirely into the pot. However, unbeknownst to Athragar, Teekeeus was fully in control. He had the missing Emprs. Caula Voria of diamonds in his hand, and calmly matched Athragar’s bet, safe with a solid hand of Ebel of sapphires, Ebel of emeralds, Ebel of rubies, and Emprs. of diamonds. His combined four-card trick was superior to Athragar’s incomplete royal house.

When the snap turned over, as the final card, the six of sapphires, not even Athragar’s Fortify Speechcraft enchantment could save him. He began to bluster, saying that the cards had been unfairly dealt and that Alberic, the dealer, was taking revenge for an earlier hand, when Athragar had taken 50 septims from the Breton and then, to add insult to financial injury, taken the last sweetroll from the silver bowl on the table.

Then resignation took over his face as the cards were revealed and it became clear that Teekeeus had been stringing him along. The Argonian summarily gathered up the gold and left Athragar to wallow in defeat. Angalmo fetched him some wine for his sorrows, as I heard Athragar complaining that his wife would kill him for spending his entire monthly stipend from the University in one evening.

To add to this, he will have an entirely unsympathetic ear in Contumelorius’ when he gets down to the basement. Not that I sympathise much with him. It surely requires some stupendous act of stupidity to stake all on the outside possibility of a royal house. I can only assume that some combination of the wine and the little mer’s love of competition caused this idiocy, since Athragar is an intelligent and respected member of the guild here and is by all accounts an accomplished teacher and destruction artist.

It was most hilarious tonight! It reminded me of Robért again, and the time we spent together on the White Rose. I wonder how he is getting on at the University? He must be learning a great deal from the tutors there. As content as I am at present, I long to be there. Associate life is not what I was made for. I must redouble my efforts. I have decided. Once I accompany Guilbert and Reynald back to Weatherleah, I must head for Skingrad, to acquire a recommendation from the hall there.

This post has been edited by Ceidwad: Jul 6 2011, 12:20 AM

[Acadian]

This was an enjoyable and relaxing interlude that I thoroughly enjoyed.

'Imperials have never been as good as Altmer at forming stable, lasting pairs, due to their shorter lives and ill-considered matches.'
I love this. It is so. . . Gwen!

Your deck of TES cards was perfect! Very recognizable, yet very TES as well.

'It was most hilarious tonight! It reminded me of Robért again, and the time we spent together on the White Rose. I wonder how he is getting on at the University? He must be learning a great deal from the tutors there. As content as I am at present, I long to be there. Associate life is not what I was made for. I must redouble my efforts. I have decided. Once I accompany Guilbert and Reynald back to Weatherleah, I must head for Skingrad, to acquire a recommendation from the hall there.'
A delightful summary that includes aspects of where Gwen has been, her aspirations and her immediate plans.

[Grits]

The bathing situation and borrowing clothes while her gown is laundered reminded me just how uncomfortable traveling is in Gwen’s Tamriel, compared to the comforts of her home. I enjoy those details. What a lively evening in the library, it seems that Athragar got what he deserved!

Good luck with the new job.

[mALX]

Your depiction of Reynald had me in hysterics!

I had read about "The Mad Pelagius's" nude pranks before, great to see the lore showing here !!!

WOO HOO! The Skingrad Mages guild, huh? Let's hope Gwen doesn't have to spend the night, ROFL !!!

Another Great Write - I am finally caught up again, and loving this story !!!

[SubRosa]

Poor Gwen, soaked in her gown and then forced into Mr. Contemptable's soiled sheets!

You have us an excellent description of the Septim sons. I am not used to them still being alive! Your description of them also gave us a wonderful look at Imperial geography, with the discussion of Nibenean vs. Colovian.