Light through Darkness, Book 2, are we truly safe now? Options

[Acadian]

TK! I think this is my fave of all the episodes you’ve graced us with here! I so enjoyed the beautifully described setting and natural way in which you revealed much about Dere and Ariella. I think what I enjoyed most was that the focus here really was on what Dere was thinking and feeling.

And Ariella loves horses! Being horse crazy is a good thing, Dere!

Like the wise commenters before me, I thoroughly enjoyed the moon and stars talk.

[King Coin]

Ariella needs to learn when to not prod… but then we wouldn’t be enjoying this evening with her would we?
Great chapter. Very relaxing. And Dere got a hello.

[Thomas Kaira]

@McBadgere: I'm sure you will enjoy yourself reading, considering how much I enjoy writing this tale. Glad to have hooked you.

@SubRosa: Have you been dipping into Foxy's private stash again? Naughty!
On the topic of The Serpent, I consider it to be both. Most of the time, those who back away in scorn from those who are serpent-born have a reason to fear, but that isn't the whole story. As the game lore states about the Serpent: "Those born under it are the most blessed, and the most cursed." I am sticking to that, but at the same time, adding my own twist to the tale. You don't know what that twist is yet, but rest assured it will come.

@Grits: Their relationship did get off to a nice start, didn't it? I'm glad you noticed Ariella's playful side, I worked quite hard to try and bring that out. She is a girl who loves to express herself when joyful, but tends to recede into solitude when things turn uncomfortable for her. That is her personality as I envision it, and I'm glad it is showing through.

@mALX: Yes, Ariella does seem to have a way of drawing out the best in people, doesn't she?

@Acadian: I'm very glad you enjoyed that segment so much. As you have noticed, the narrative I have chosen is very strict first-person. We see the world exactly how Derelas sees it, and I have to say it is a constant challenge to make sure I don't jump out of his head, particularly when conversing with others and gauging their reactions. But that's also why I enjoy this narrative style, as well. Good practice for avoiding omniscience, too.

@King Coin: She loves to prod when the mood catches her right, though! Not too much, though, she is good about not pushing too hard, but she really makes a point of seeing what others enjoy.

Previously: Derelas and his new friend Ariella enjoyed a night of stargazing and moon-watching, sharing several happy, and equally as many uncomfortable moments as they came to know each other. Now Ariella has a little secret in store for Derelas... (not naughty, yes, I'm looking at you, Rosa! )

Chapter 10-4: A Strange Stone

Ariella leapt to her feet. Before I knew it, she had grabbed my hand and was leading me through a dense thicket of bushes. The light of both moons made it quite easy to see tonight, but it was still difficult to make out a path for all the shadowed leaves and twigs. After a few moments of brambles snapping at my clothes and hair, we reached a small clearing. Within was a veritable mountain of herbal flora: Lady’s Mantle, Goldenrod, Viper’s Bugloss, Mandrakes... everything a healing alchemist could want. Part of me was quite annoyed I didn’t find this place sooner.

But those thoughts were quickly shooed away by what I saw in the very center. There was a giant stone, almost four times taller than I was. Embroidered on its surface was a great blue rune, bespeaking of a language long since passed. A power unlike any I had ever known was emanating from this rune cleansing the air around the great stone; allowing no taint to pass.

“This is my secret garden,” Ariella told me. “Well, secret because no one else ever seems to come here. I like to sit here and watch the breeze when I need some time on my own."

“The Runestone right there blesses the soil nearby,” she continued, pointing toward the giant hewn pillar. “It helps these particular plants to grow. Each one is a healer’s herb, all perfect for Alchemist Relas’s needs. I was just heading back in when I saw you at the shrine.”

“I think I’ve seen a few of these stones before,” I quipped, my eyes fixed upon the glowing rune in the center. “But I’ve never seen one glow like this before.”

“Sidri-Ashak stones reveal their full power by Secunda’s light,” Ariella explained, “but no one really knows what they’re supposed to do. Most of the time they just grant weaponry and armor to travellers in need when touched, but judging by this, that isn’t their greatest extent.”

“Have you tried touching it when it was glowing?” I asked.

“Many times,” Ariella answered, brushing her hand along the stone. “But nothing ever happens then. You can sense its magical aura growing when the rune reveals itself, but no one has ever been able to figure out why.”

She leaned against the stone for emphasis. After a moment’s hesitation, I then mimicked her, feeling my hands brush against the coarse surface of the stone. It felt strangely hot, despite the chill of the air around me.

Out of nowhere, everything then went white.




----




“Well, Derelas, it seems you must find it rather difficult to return to our hall outside the arms of a woman, much less awake.”

I was back in the Anvil Chapter infirmary. Carahil was standing over me, a worried, yet stern frown etched through her lips, only allowing a tiny bit of her humor to escape.

“Well, I am quite the charmer these days.” I replied groggily, my eyes still adjusting to the light. “Women tend to follow me all over the place.”

“Ahh, so you do have a sense of humor buried down there somewhere,” Carahil replied, letting her small smile show. “I take it you managed to find some peace of mind, then?”

“I hope so,” I replied. “What happened?”

I tried to sit up, but was immediately greeted with a massive headache that forced me back down to the pillow. Clasping my forehead, I felt a wet cloth linen had been wrapped around it. The warm dampness helped soothe the pain as my head sank back into the feathery cushions.

“You collapsed when you touched the Runestone,” Carahil answered. “Ariella brought you back. We’ve kept you here for most of the night.”

Ariella chose that moment to enter. Despite how calmly she opened the door, I was able to easily watch as her face relaxed at the sight of me awake.

“Oh, by Mara, are you okay?” She asked without wasting a single moment. “When I saw you hit the ground, I…”

“I’m fine,” I cut into her brief pause, “just a migraine, nothing serious.”

“Nonetheless, it is best you remain here for a while,” Carahil briskly spoke while shutting the window curtains with a wave of her hand. Ariella made a point of rolling her eyes as the light faded. “At least until you’ve taken some potion. And best keep away from bright lights for now.”

“I’ll go ask Felen for some of that brew he makes for morning-after sickness,” Ariella added. “It might help.”

“It very much could,” Carahil replied, “and if you would be so kind as to collect some, I need a moment alone with Derelas right now.”

Ariella left immediately, closing the door behind her, leaving me to wonder just what it was that Carahil wished to discuss with me. By the slight glow in her honey-gold eyes, I was just able to make out that the ghost who possessed them yesterday had not been banished. Was that why? I would have preferred to give those memories some time to rest before discussing them again.

“I am quite glad to see Ariella brought you back more or less unharmed,” Carahil began. “No one has ever seen a Runestone react like that to another’s touch.”

“And I honestly had no clue that would happen,” I responded, trying to head off the softly scolding question I was sure Carahil had in store for me.

“Of course you didn’t,” Carahil replied, raising her eyebrows. “I never questioned your judgment, I was merely expressing that I’m glad to see you well; as any healer would when their patient awakens.”

Her response left me a bit deflated and feeling rather stupid with myself, but at least she understood my point of view, and perhaps shared it. I was at the same time thankful that she dutifully dodged around mentioning any questions she might have had that would cause me unease. It was not difficult to see how she had obtained her position of Magister of Restoration.

“Do you have any idea why it did react to my touch, then?” I asked; clapping my hand to my forehead as another wave of pain enveloped it.

“None whatsoever,” Carahil answered with a subtle shake of her head as she adjusted the towel I had nearly dislodged. “My skill lies in the healing arts, not the Arcana. You’d probably need to ask the scholars at the University about that.”

“If I ever get in, that is,” I mumbled dejectedly.

“I have no doubts that you will,” Carahil replied. “You have already proven yourself to four of our Magisters, myself included. You need only one more Recommendation to obtain full scholarship.”

“But where can I go?” I wondered aloud. Leyawiin was much too far away, a month’s journey at best; Kvatch was utterly devastated; and judging by how Tadrose and Faith reacted to traveling here by foot, Skingrad was out of the question. That left one option.

“Maybe Bruma?” I decided. It was not the best option at all, considering Oblivion was now right on their doorstep, but it was all I could think of.

Carahil frowned, “Considering the circumstances, Bruma is hardly ideal.” It appeared she shared my thoughts. “Why not Skingrad? It is much closer, and not under siege, for that matter.”

“I… I don’t really like Skingrad that much,” I replied. It wasn’t really a lie, considering how my two guardians reacted to the mention of passing it by; but neither was it the truth. But one way or the other, I did not want anything to do with that city right now.

“I can understand why you might think that,” Carahil spoke. “There does seem to be something not quite right about that place. Particularly the guild chapter, most people find it… a bit odd. Stranger people you will not find, those of Skingrad are one of a kind.”

I cocked my head at Carahil’s rhyme.

“An old saying,” she answered to my gesture. “Skingrad has always been an unusual city, and the Chapter maintained there is no exception.”

“What sort of unusual things go on there?” I inquired. Carahil seemed rather abashed of my asking, considering how her eyes quickly flitted away from me. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” I added quickly.

“No apologies necessary,” Carahil placidly replied, albeit carefully avoiding eye contact. “It’s simply… well, you’d best stay at an inn if you have business there.”

I had a feeling I had heard that before. Thankfully, Ariella chose that moment to return, carrying a small vial of bright pink liquid and a cup of tea.

“This is for the migrane,” she explained, lifting the vial slightly to indicate, “and this is to help wash down the taste.”

She gave a slight shudder as she finished, handing me the vial. I was not entirely expecting the taste to be too horrid as I lifted myself to a sitting position. But that notion quickly exited my mind when the potion reached my tongue. I only just managed to keep my bowels from following, though I did end up sputtering for quite some time.

When I had finally regained control of my stomach, I took the tea from Ariella’s hand and took a massive gulp to wash the potion away.

“That was absolutely disgusting,” I commented, handing the empty vial back to Ariella.

“It’s supposed to be that way,” she responded with a shrug, “the taste helps to clear your head when you’ve awakened after a big night at the tavern. Give it a couple minutes, and you should be back on your feet.”

“Thank you, Ariella,” Carahil spoke. “Now, if you would be so kind as to return to your assisting Alchemist Relas, I would greatly appreciate it.”

Ariella gave a quick wave to both of us as she left. Carahil then moved to the door, but turned to face me before she left.

“I must request you join her as soon as you feel able, Derelas,” she said. “Do not cloud your head about the Runestone or where you may wish to travel next for now; there are far more urgent matters that need tending to right here.”

“Is there really nothing I can do to figure that stone out, though?” I pressed.

“As I said, this chapter is ill-suited to look into what happened,” Carahil responded, an irritable tone crossing her voice. “And considering the state of things in Tamriel, it is also rather low on the priority list. You have been bequeathed a task, so I must insist you perform it. Worry about the Runestone later.”

She then left; emphasizing that was her final word. I looked down at my teacup, noting a small lemon slice floating in the liquid that was now half-drained. Heaving a sigh, I finished the sweet, brightly flavored tea and traced Carahil’s footsteps out of the room.

This post has been edited by Thomas Kaira: Oct 30 2011, 02:10 AM

[SubRosa]

Ok, note to self, don't touch the sidi-assrack stones. That was a nice little discussion about the runestones, and their power over living, growing things. Right up until Dere got hit between the eyes with mojo. Although granted, waking up to Carahil standing over your bed almost does make up for it...

I am wondering if Dere's strange experience with the runestone has something to do with the deeper mystery of what happened to his parents, the vampires, and the Dark SisterBrotherhood?

Well, at least Dere only has one more fetch and carry mission left for the Mages Guild. Assuming he can ever escape from Carahil's leash.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Oct 30 2011, 02:15 AM

[Acadian]

A lovely evening fouled by a shocking surprise. Poor Dere, keeps waking up injured. After waking from his encounter with that angry stone, I'm surprised Dere didn't take a quick inventory of his body parts to make sure no more were missing.

You continue to do a great job with Carahil. A businesslike magister of healing - with a heart, sense of humor and ability to be a taskmaster.

Fun stuff about Skingrad!

Nits:

“Well, secret because no one else ever seems to come here. I like to sit here and watch the breeze when I need some time on my own.
You’ll want to add a closing quotation at the end.

’The warm dampness help soothe the pain as my head sank back into the feathery cushions.’
I think you wanted ‘helped’ vs help.

[Grits]

“Well, Derelas, it seems you must find it rather difficult to return to our hall outside the arms of a woman, much less awake.”

Once more, and she might call it a habit. It’s a relief that Derelas only has a sore head this time, and Carahil is a little more pulled together than she was before. A mystery! I wonder what the heck is going on with Derelas and the Sidri-Ashak stone?


“This is for the migrane,” she explained, lifting the vial slightly to indicate, “and this is to help wash down the taste.”

Ugh, but it seemed to get him back on his feet. Carahil put him right to work, but it sounds like he’ll get to see some more of Ariella. Maybe Felen will have some advice. Like, don’t try to sleep at the Skingrad guild hall.

[haute ecole rider]

Ah, yes, Julian would second Grits's advice!

[McBadgere]

D'you know, in all the hours I've spent on Oblivion, I've never touched a runestone... ...

Aaamywho, lovely episode...I will catch up... ...

[King Coin]

What a lovely garden area you described. It is too bad that Dere was knocked right out by the stone! That must have been one heck of a shock to Ariella.

Ha ha, Carahil and Ariella get him mobile again and send him off to work. At least he’ll be working with Ariella.

[Thomas Kaira]

@SubRosa: It will be a long while yet before Carahil lets him free. And yes, the Runestone has something to do with the overarching mystery behind the story that Derelas thinks he might have just escaped from. And yes, I would say waking up to Carahil's stern, yet concerned face would be well worth any trouble.

@Acadian: Skingrad has always been an unusual place, after all. I'm sure Buffy has heard all the rumors (especially since the NPCs in Oblivion insist on repeating them at least 15 times daily). I'm glad you enjoy my depiction of Carahil, which is not all that dissimilar to her depictions I've seen in other fics, after all.

@Grits: Well, Dere was only unconscious this time, he wasn't actually hurt. Carahil is well experienced enough to know what ailments are urgent and which are not, and this one wasn't really very serious, all things considered. For all she knew, he might have just had a rough evening at the Flowing Bowl, and probably might have if Ariella was not there to tell her the story.

@haute ecole rider: I've heard others say the same.

@McBadgere: Take your time, I'm just so glad that you've joined us! Runestones aren't really very special in-game, as I said in the text, all they really do is give you some Bound equipment when you touch them. So, of course, I am making them more special.

@King Coin: Carahil was the one more interested in getting Dere back on his feet to get him back in the fields, Ariella just wanted to make sure he got well. Oh, and maybe so she might be able to spend the day with him, it seems she has taken to our not-quite-as-depressed-as-before hero quite well. In fact, one might think there could be something between them forming....

Chapter 10-5: Pastoral Morning

Ariella had held up with Alchemist Relas in his laboratory just long enough to wait for me to catch up. Once she saw I was up, she wasted no time greeting me.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” she sighed as we exited the Guild to the fields for today’s work. “I had no idea that Runestone would have such an effect on you.”

“Nor did I,” I replied as we passed the central tree of Yokuda Loop. Even in the early morning, I could already make out the sounds of the blacksmith’s hammer pounding away and the children’s youthful glee as they played behind their homes. A solemn-faced, middle-aged Redguard woman was sitting beneath the shade of the plaza tree, her eyes searching for something, or someone. They paused on me, but left just as quickly as they came.

“Shall we go back to the shrine today?” Ariella asked, glancing my way. “There are a lot of plants growing there that Alchemist Relas can use.”

“Okay,” I consented. “By the way, I really enjoyed stargazing with you.”

“Thank you,” Ariella beamed as the city gates swung open to our approach, “It was such a beautiful night, too. I could never have asked for a clearer sky.”

Ariella waved at another Redguard, male this time, toiling away in the stables at Horse Whisperer shortly after we exited Anvil.

“Mornin’, Ariella!” He called out, returning her wave. “Fancy givin’ an old man here a hand with the hay today?”

“Maybe later,” Ariella called back, “Carahil is driving the Guild pretty hard right now. She seems determined to get this potion order finished before Saturalia.”

“Aye, that’s a pretty hefty load the Legion dropped on your shoulders,” the Redguard replied, leaning on his pitchfork. “Well, you just come on back whenever you feel up to tossin’ some hay ‘round.”

He then took his pitchfork back up and continued shoveling dung from the kennel into a giant barrel. Likely the dung was used for fertilizer by all the farmers on the city outskirts. As we passed the Whitmond plantation, I noticed a woman making powerful gestures at a man nearby, who seemed to be shouting back. I was too far away to hear anything over the morning clatter of horses, carriages, and galleons, though.

“That was Ernest,” Ariella told me, “I like to help him in the stables when I’m not doing much for the Chapter.”

“You must see a lot of him,” I commented, “whenever I saw him, he always seemed a bit grumpy.”

“He is a bit of a grouch,” Ariella replied, “but he’s really a good person once you get to know him. And you won’t find another man in Anvil who loves horses as much as he does.”

“Do you know who owns the stables?” I asked.

“That would be Clesa,” Ariella replied, grinning as she pointed out yet another Redguard who was fussing with a customer over a dapple-gray roan mare. “She runs the stables and breeds the horses. Hers are actually some of the most prized in all Cyrodiil, ‘None are hardier than those bred at Horse Whisperer’, that’s what she says, and the rest of the province agrees. She often barters with the Legion to provide animals for their more distinguished officers.”

Ariella pointed towards a stall housing a small gaggle of what could only be the most beautiful horses I ever laid my eyes upon. Each had a coat of pure white, gleaming in the morning rays of Aetherius. They held their heads high, as if they were flaunting their beauty for all to see as they slowly swished their long, bushy tails. Finally, I noted a concave profile to their bodies I didn’t see in most horses, which undoubtedly made for a very stable riding position.

Image

“Those are her most prized,” Ariella explained. “No other horse can come close to matching their strength. Those are the horses the Legion purchases.”

“I’ve never seen anything like them,” I replied, following the swishing of one of the mare’s tails.

“They are a breed exclusive to Horse Whisperer,” Ariella continued, “Most of their bloodlines come from Elsweyr, but the color came when she started experimenting with mixing them with trail horses from High Rock. She could not have asked for a better outcome. These horses easily beat out the stamina of both of their ancestors by a dragon’s wings.”

Clesa had just brought another customer around to the stables housing her prized horses and began to show them off. Unfortunately, before I could get a better look at who was shopping, a great bellowing roar befitting of one from Skyrim issued from Whitmond, causing both me and Ariella to jump. My eyes left the stables and returned to the farm, where I was just able to make out a door slamming shut.

“Looks like Maeva and Bjalfi are at it again,” Ariella sighed, shaking her head.

“They argue often?” I inquired.

“Almost daily,” Ariella replied. “Maeva wants a quiet life, but Bjalfi, her husband, wants to adventure. He keeps saying he can make the family rich with spoils from the ruined forts and disused mines around the county. Their relationship has been hanging by a thread for a while now.”

“And I think it might have just snapped,” I commented quietly, as I saw a brute of a Nord carrying a brilliantly glowing bronze mace at his hip make a hasty exit from the farmhouse.

“Oh, no you don’t, you brusi!” I heard Maeva shout out, the ensuing ruckus startling a murder of crows, who took to the skies calling their displeasure. “That’s my family’s heirloom you’re stealing there! Get back here! GET BACK HERE, S’WIT!!”

All she got in response was a very rude gesture as her now quite assuredly ex-husband stormed away. Maeva said nothing more as she stomped into the farmhouse, slamming the door so hard it was nearly ripped from its hinges.

I looked to Ariella; she looked back at me.

“Well, that was certainly dramatic,” I remarked. “And it doesn’t look like he intends to come back at all.”

“Nope, and I’m pretty sure even if he did Maeva won’t be very inclined to a warm welcome,” Ariella agreed. “I wonder what she meant by her ‘family’s heirloom’, though?”

“I think it was that mace he strapped to his belt,” I replied, “It looked magical, but I couldn’t tell the enchantment; too far away.”

“You’re probably right,” Ariella replied, shrugging. “Maeva was completely beside herself when he left. He’s stormed away several times before, but he never got screamed at that hard those times.”

“Well, if he did steal that thing, we should probably tell the Guard about it, shouldn’t we?” I inquired.

“I don’t think they’ll do anything,” Ariella answered, hanging her head. “He and Maeva have been at each other’s throats for a while now. Besides, he’s part of the family that that mace belonged to, so he’s perfectly in his right to take it with him.”

I gave a deep sigh. It was rather obvious the guard would not step in; arguments between married couples are ten to the drake, after all. Besides, it really wasn’t my place to step in to try and fix familial problems, I’m no consulate, I’d probably just make things worse.

“You’re right. It’s probably best we don’t get involved in their dispute. We would probably just anger them further,” I voiced my thoughts aloud.

“Right, so let’s get back to happier talk now,” Ariella replied.

Our desires alike, I returned to gazing at Clesa’s beautiful snow-white horses. Clesa and her customer had long since left, and I could only barely make them out on the horizon. It looked like they were headed for Driftwood Beach, the very same place I washed up all those months ago.

“Do you ever wish you could have one of those horses?” I asked Ariella, turning my thoughts back to the stables.

“Every time I see them,” she sighed. “I love helping Ernest groom them when I’m there. You wouldn’t believe how soft their coats are….”

“How about we go this evening? After we finish gathering, you could, maybe, show me around?”

“Count on it,” Ariella replied, giving me a brilliant smile, one which I returned to the best of my abilities; one that remained etched in my mind long after it was given. Perhaps she really was the one person I needed right now?




----




Post-Script: Clesa's prized white horses are based off of a mix real-world Arabians and Andalusians (Elsweyr and High Rock equivalent breeds, respectively).

This post has been edited by Thomas Kaira: Nov 6 2011, 06:40 AM

[McBadgere]

Oh, most excellent...*Applauds*...

Love the picture of that horse...Very pretty...

Nordy-Boy - or Farn Olfsson as he's now named - has got an Anvil white horse...Named Binky...(After Pratchett's Death character's horse...)...

Nice one... ...

Loved the Maeva/Bjalfi bit...I killed him (again) just the other day... ...Ooopsie... ...

Farm related nit...You'se not going to pick up much manure with a pitchfork...Toss the hay, yes...But really, only a shovel will do...Trust me...I have moved much in my time... ...

This post has been edited by McBadgere: Nov 5 2011, 04:26 PM

[Thomas Kaira]

Beg to differ. I've pitched quite a bit of manure with a pitchfork, myself, and it works very well so long as you have the right spacing between prongs. With the right fork, it's a lot easier to shovel manure with than a shovel. You don't have to worry about scooping up dirt, and it's easier to perform the work because of that (no resistance from said dirt when you scoop). Also, a pitchfork is lighter than a shovel. Those are the reasons I have to prefer a pitchfork for manure shoveling.

Everyone has their own methods, and that is mine. Ernest was pitching manure based on how I learned, and that is reason enough for me to leave it as is.

This post has been edited by Thomas Kaira: Nov 5 2011, 06:39 PM

[SubRosa]

A solemn-faced, middle-aged Redguard woman was sitting beneath the shade of the plaza tree, her eyes searching for something, or someone.
I wonder if perhaps she had white hair tied back in a ponytail?

As we passed the Whitmond plantation, I noticed a woman making powerful gestures at a man nearby, who seemed to be shouting back.
Well, that is what you get for marrying a man named "the Contemptible"! Seriously, what was that chick thinking? I love how you are planting these little slices of Anvilian life throughout your tale.

Yep, that is the characteristic dish-shaped forehead of an Arabian. Or is would that be an Alik'r? Such an excellent decision for the endurance-noted horses of Clesa. I have heard it said that Akatosh created the Alik'r breed from the four winds: spirit from the North, strength from the South, speed from the East, and intelligence from the West.

Ooops, I see you decided to go with Elsewyr Barbs and High Rock Andalusians instead.

Instead of bastiche, you might find a more interesting curse or two for Maeva here.

Hmmm, so Ariella is going to show Dere around. Hubba hubba. This was a simply delightful episode to read, giving us a chance to get to know Ariella a little better, allowing Dere a little time to feel like a normal person again, and of course giving us a peek at the other dramas unfolding around them.

[haute ecole rider]

Enjoyable, as always!

One horse-related nit: Arabians are great for endurance, but not so much for weight-carrying. The baroque breeds (of which the Andalusian and Blanco's own model the Lippizan) are. If your Legion don't go around wearing tin suits like mine do, then Arabians are fine. But plate armor requires deeper-bodied horses with sturdier legs than the Arabs. Speed isn't of as much essence here as being able to carry weight and rear and kick and all the other cool things Blanco does.

And I'm a bit perturbed by your choice of kennel instead of stable/stall for the horses' housing. A kennel is a small shelter for a dog or cat, according to my dictionary. Horses live in stalls or stables. In England they call them mews. But that's the British for you.

Pitchfork or shovel? Depends on the kind of manure you're shoveling. Cow manure - definitely shovel. They come out goopey (what we mean by cow-pies!). Horses produce road apples that might plop a bit on landing but usually keep their sort of round shape (and dry that way). Very forkable. Sheep and goats produce pellets reminiscent of the round things you stuff inside your Daisy BB gun for plonkin' at the paper plate target on the backyard cherry tree. Shovel would be better there, too. Possum poop - same as dog and pickable with a plastic bag over your hand.

Also, manure regardless of source can be made more forkable if straw is used for bedding, as the long fibers trap the smaller bits and make it easier to catch 'em in the tines of a fork. On the other hand, if you use wood shavings/chips, then horse manure is pretty much the only stuff you can pitch a fork at.

[mALX]

She leaned against the stone for emphasis. After a moment’s hesitation, I then mimicked her, feeling my hands brush against the coarse surface of the stone. It felt strangely hot, despite the chill of the air around me.

Out of nowhere, everything then went white.

This is an awesome scene !!!

“Well, Derelas, it seems you must find it rather difficult to return to our hall outside the arms of a woman, much less awake.”

And this had me rolling !!!


I love the personality you have given Carahil way better than the one Bethesda gave her !!!

**

Gorgeous horsey picture !!!


Be careful Dere !!! Don't let Maeva the Buxom get her claws on you !!! URK !!!


I won't get into the manure/pitchfork debate, but I'll personally take a 5 prong pitchfork over a shovel anyday for all around stall cleaning (when bedding down with straw).

Using shavings as bedding, the shovel is the better tool.

[Grits]

A solemn-faced, middle-aged Redguard woman was sitting beneath the shade of the plaza tree, her eyes searching for something, or someone. They paused on me, but left just as quickly as they came.

Maelona? Doesn’t she think Derelas will make good jail bait?

I liked spotting the domestic disturbance at Whitmond Plantation. It’s great to connect to such familiar things in the game, even if they’re not part of the main action.

“Count on it,” Ariella replied, giving me a brilliant smile, one which I returned to the best of my abilities; one that remained etched in my mind long after it was given. Perhaps she really was the one person I needed right now?

And she seems just as pleased with his company. How nice to see Derelas smile, especially since there’s probably going to be more darkness.

[Thomas Kaira]

Just to clear the air:

One horse-related nit: Arabians are great for endurance, but not so much for weight-carrying. The baroque breeds (of which the Andalusian and Blanco's own model the Lippizan) are. If your Legion don't go around wearing tin suits like mine do, then Arabians are fine. But plate armor requires deeper-bodied horses with sturdier legs than the Arabs. Speed isn't of as much essence here as being able to carry weight and rear and kick and all the other cool things Blanco does.

Their look is based off the Arabian. Remember, I did state that they had been cross-bred with High-Rock native horses (thanks for the idea, by the way, h.e.r). This gives them the grace and stamina of a modern Arabian as well as the raw strength and power of an Andalusian.

Sorry for the confusion that may have caused.

[Acadian]

’A solemn-faced, middle-aged Redguard woman was sitting beneath the shade of the plaza tree, her eyes searching for something, or someone. They paused on me, but left just as quickly as they came.’
I envisioned Maelona here, looking to recruit a Siren hunter.

’As we passed the Whitmond plantation, I noticed a woman making powerful gestures at a man nearby, who seemed to be shouting back.’
I imagined this was Maeva and Bjalfi. What a treat to have you confirm it a few paragraphs later. And the possibility of a quest has peeked its head into view.

’These horses easily beat out the stamina of both of their ancestors by a dragon’s wings.’
What a wonderful expression!

Ariella’s display of horse craziness just caused her stock to skyrocket in my book. So nice to see Dere with a touch of hope, or is that some Light Through Darkness?

What a lovely ending!

[McBadgere]

Everyone has their own methods, and that is mine. Ernest was pitching manure based on how I learned, and that is reason enough for me to leave it as is.

Lol...Never thought I'd have that sort of discussion on a writing forum...*Chuckles*...

Absolutely fair enough matey... ...

Loving it...

Horses live in stalls or stables. In England they call them mews. But that's the British for you.

Do we really?...Never knew that... ...Could be where various small streets we call *Something* Mews comes from...Cheers... ...

[haute ecole rider]

Technically "mews" in England refers to a row of stables or carriage houses. Nowadays they mean rowhouses converted from old stables or new ones built to look like they were converted from old stables.