Old Habits Die Hard Part Six, some old habits never die Options

[Grits]

Blanco had a wonderful role in this episode. I remember how he reacted when Julian retrieved that cuirass, so his actions here made beautiful sense.

“This is it, Julian,” his voice drifted quietly with his breath.

Burd said it perfectly, and now the stage is truly set.

[haute ecole rider]

@Olen: You are absolutely right. Julian still considers the arcane realm to be beyond her understanding that she still regards battlemages as being other than herself. She is beginning to understand that they’re mortal, with emotions and nerves, just like herself.

@SubRosa: Here is some information about Mo Gu, which is actually a form of mounted archery competition: (read the section about Korean mounted archery). I thought it was a good enough name for these Legion archers. I am thinking that here is where Blanco really shows us what a Witchhorse is capable of. What better way to do it than carry the last Septim into battle?

@Acadian: Sometimes I think Blanco is very aware of the effect a mounted Emperor has on both the allies and on the Oblivion forces. And I strongly suspect that while he is very much a stallion, he also understands, on some basic level, the importance of keeping Martin Septim alive. We will soon see how he, in his own horsey way, intends to accomplish just that.

@Grits: After Blanco introduced himself to Martin Septim in such a dramatic manner, it was high time the damn horse lived up to his unspoken demonstration! Yes, he can spot magic, and as Acadian said, smell the dragonblood.

Now that we are getting down to the action, I want to take a moment for a few shout-outs.

Thanks to SubRosa for showing me that it is possible to add to the scale of this battle. I always felt that the forces facing Oblivion in the game were kind of puny, especially if the PC is at higher levels. While I didn’t quite reach the massive scale SubRosa accomplished in the TF, I did expand on the forces quite a bit. I hope that it makes the battle feel a bit more balanced.

Also thanks to Acadian and his depiction of the Battle of Kvatch for the inspiration I found to develop some of the tactics here. While I had the general outline in my head, details were lacking until I started reading Buffy’s impressions of a battle that happened long ago for Julian.

And many, many, many thanks to Dee Foxy for some of the specific ideas he shared with me. I’ve been able to use quite a few of his suggestions in the upcoming battle to add more realism to the events Julian witnesses.

The story so far: The Bruma allies have taken the field, and it is time to face the source of the jitters.

**********************

Chapter 30.7 Before One Gate

At the bottom of the slope Blanco reared above the heads of the guardsmen around me. My heart in my mouth, I watched as he spun sideways, Martin’s head turned toward the Gate ahead of us. “We stand here!” Martin shouted as the soldiers reformed along the base of the rocky slope, behind hastily assembled stone ramparts. “Let them come to us!”

Both horse and rider looked whole, so I swallowed my heart back into my chest and took my position beside Burd. Mentally I reviewed what we had discussed just a few hours ago.

“The smaller Gates will open roughly equidistant from each other,” Vonius set three votive candles around the rim of the altar, dividing the circle into three equal arcs. “Once all three are open, the Great Gate will appear,” he indicated the everlasting flame of Talos, then swept the unlit votives into his hands. “Then the smaller ones close.”

“Best time to use cavalry, if we had it, is early on,” Camillus loomed over Vonius’s shoulder, his gaze moving over the shallow terrain of the altar’s bowl. “While there is still room to maneuver.”

Martin nodded. “I was thinking the same thing, Inspector General,” he agreed, collecting the votives from Vonius. He set one down, then waved his hand over the expanse of the bowl, his fingers passing through the arcane flame unharmed. “If we stay back along one edge,” he swept his hand along a quarter of the rim, “that should give you and your cavalry a clear field.”

“Aye, I noticed the southeastern slope is relatively gentle with few boulders,” Camillus tapped the adjacent portion of the altar rim. “T’would be a good place for a cavalry contingent.”

“Archers would be nice,” Lerus remarked. Her icy glance flashed at Camillus. “Was it my imagination, sir, or did I see a contingent of Mo Gu riders among the cavalry that isn’t supposed to be here?”

He smiled that feral grin I remembered too well. “What Mo Gu riders?” he rubbed his left forefinger alongside his nose in the universal gesture of dissemblance. “Your imagination is quite vivid, Captain, as well as those of everyone else here.”

Lerus smiled back, her eyes hard. “That’s too bad, sir. They would come in very useful for some time after the regular cavalry runs out of room.”

Vonius considered both Legion officers thoughtfully. “Yes, if such a contingent existed, they could sweep the field between the Gates until the center one opens.” He grinned maliciously. “So would artillery.”

Camillus matched Vonius’s feral grin. “Speaking of which, how is that coming along, Burd?”

“Quite well, sir,” Satisfaction brimmed in the Nord captain’s voice. “We have four trebuchets parked on the eastern walls. Jantus Brolus will have them sighted to the center of the Plain of Caribou before sundown. And the good citizens of Bruma are hard at work assembling the missiles.” He met Camillus’s gaze. “As long as your battlemages have good aim . . .”

“They do!” Camillus averred heartily. “And they know to strike each projectile with Jend’s latest spell.”

Burd caught the bemused expressions on the other captains’ faces. “We are limited in artillery materials,” he explained with a nod at Camillus. “But we have plenty of snow and rocks here. At the core of each missile is a ball of snow about so big -” he held his hands shoulder-width apart, “spiked with nails and broken spear points. The outer shell is composed of pebbles held together with netting.”

Camillus rubbed his hands together in anticipation. “And when they are lobbed at the enemy, our mages will fire Jend’s spell at each missile. The heat from the spell will cause the snow to instantly vaporize into steam, forcing the iron fragments and rocks apart at high velocities.” His blue eyes drifted around the altar, meeting the gaze of each captain in turn. “I don’t have to warn you to stay well off that field while the artillery is firing!”

“If we have enough warning,” Lerus nodded thoughtfully, “we can duck behind our shields to avoid the shrapnel.”

“We’ll use the starlight spells as signals,” Camillus nodded at me. “Not only will it signal the crews on the walls, but also warn us to take cover.” He ran a finger around the rim of the altar. “I’ve got our support troops building stone ramparts here that you can drop behind. They’re only waist-high, but that’s as far as we can get on short notice.”

“Then that’s decided,” Martin Septim leaned forward over the flame. For one second, I saw again the bones of his skull emerging in the light from Talos’s fire. “First we’ll have Hallstein’s contingent on the left flank, Kvatch in the center, and Lerus’s people on the right flank. The rest will stay back as reserves. We stay back along the edge of the bottom, behind these stone ramparts of Camillus’s, and let these infernal Daedra come to us. We’ll let the artillery fly first. Then our imaginary cavalry and Mo Gu riders will attack those in the center as long as they have room to run. We will close with the enemy only after the Great Gate opens and the other three close. No point in stumbling into one of these Gates and getting sucked into the Deadlands.”

Martin Septim met my gaze across the altar. “Julian will remain back with the reserves,” he shook his head when I drew breath to protest. “I need you to keep an eye on the melee and send guards and soldiers where they are needed most. You are also our liaison with our artillery and the imaginary cavalry. And most importantly of all, we need you alive and whole to run into that Great Gate.”

Camillus nodded his agreement. “Aye, Julian knows our battle signals and can coordinate the forces best.” He looked at me. “Starlight spells for artillery, that small healing spell for the cavalry. It shouldn’t impact your magicka too much, Julian.”

I filled my lungs with the chill air. Frost is falling already. Well, we’ll be warm enough soon enough. I looked ahead to see dark shapes swirling in front of the Gate as the scamps and clannfear turned en masse toward us. Flashes of purple flickered among the simian creatures as the reptilian beasts began their charge toward us. Then flares began flying toward us, splashing across shields and mailed armor.

Martin turned his face in my direction and lifted his greatsword vertically, catching the glow from the Gate in a scarlet glimmer. In response, I sent the green flame skyward, arcing it over the center of the Plain.

For a long breath nothing interrupted the clannfear’s charge toward us. Then massive fireballs soared through the darkening sky toward dark forms hurtling overhead. Below me I saw the front lines crouched behind the wall. Suddenly I realized that Martin, on Blanco’s back, sat well above the shelter of the rampart. No, we can’t lose Martin to shrapnel! But it was too late. The dark projectiles, struck by potent flames, dissolved violently into clouds of steam speckled by black spots just above the heads of the daedra.

To my surprise, Blanco spun in place so that he faced the field. They’re making themselves as small as possible. Maybe it will work. His white coat gleamed in the bloody gloom below as the missiles exploded over the field. Fist-sized rocks and glowing red iron fragments, propelled by white clouds of steam stained by the red glow of Oblivion, scattered over the Plain, almost too fast to see.

A swath of carnage opened across the charging daedra like wheat falling before the scythe. Clannfear and scamps crumpled alike before the deadly onslaught of flying debris. Above their cries of pain and fear, I could hear the clatter of the furthest-reaching shrapnel striking the breastworks below.

Somehow Blanco and Martin stood unscathed. I couldn’t be certain, but it almost seemed as if the missiles bent around the pair before landing harmlessly behind the front ranks. Then Martin twisted around in the saddle and signaled again with his greatsword.

I glanced toward the line of cavalry, still stationed above us on the rim to the southeast, and tossed a small healing flare skyward into the red haze above us.

A horn rang out. Its clear note sank into a storm of twanging bowstrings and whistling fletches as a mass of arrows rose high above us. They dropped like stooping falcons toward the mass of lesser daedra before us.

High-pitched screeches and bass bellowing told us of the accuracy of the Mo Gu’s fire. Several clannfear staggered, but kept coming, some of them shaking their heads furiously. The scamps did not fare so well. Nearly as many scamps were hit, and more of them fell, never to move again.

I heard the familiar command to mount up in Camillus’s stentorian bellow, followed by “Ready arms!” from Martin. Then the remaining daedra contacted the front line, held by Lerus and Vonius on the right, and the decanus from Skingrad, Andor Hallstein, on the left. Blanco belled as the creatures fought to get past the front line toward him, and I could hear the challenge in his voice. Come and get me if you can! Ha! But he kept all four feet on the ground and trotted behind the guards, Martin watching for a break in the line. Around him the Blades had spread into a winged formation, ready to move forward should any daedra approach their sacred charge. I could catch intermittent glimpses of a white-tipped brown shadow at Blanco’s left knee.

Three clannfear slipped past the right flank of the front line and beelined toward Burd and I. His warning brought my attention from the melee ahead to the more immediate threat as Akatosh’s Touch darted toward one of the scaled beasts. I felt, rather than heard, the line to my left give slightly as the guards and Blades were pushed back beneath the press of clannfear.

The other two already dispatched beneath his immense blade, Burd finished off the creature I had wounded, giving me the space I needed to send another healing flare skyward. This time, I sent a second one immediately after the first.

Thunder rolled over the daedra as the Mo Gu riders, already mounted, kneed their brave mounts down the relatively clear southeast slope of the bowl. Once they reached the bottom, the horses spread out in a single column parallel to our front and a few lengths away. Their riders loosed arrows into scamps and clannfear on the far side. As they swept across the bowl, the Mo Gu riders twisted around in their saddles and shot backwards, downing even more of the enemy.

Their numbers significantly thinned, the remaining daedra were easily flung back and I felt the front line return to its original position. Once again, Martin’s sword flashed at me, still pristine. How much longer before that blade gets its first drink? I didn’t pause to consider the answer, but instead sent three healing flares toward the blooming stars. Once more the horn sounded, and the regular cavalry spilled in a dark mass over the edge of the bowl, sweeping down on the remaining daedra staggering across the field.

Across the bowl, the Mo Gu riders had gathered at the bottom of the rocky slope and were turning around. They arched northwards and swept back along the right flank of the regular cavalry, once again shooting in the direction of the Gate.

Few daedra remained after the cavalry’s devastating charge. I looked out in the wake of the horses as they, too, returned to the southeastern lip to resume their positions. Broken bodies lay scattered across the bowl, its pristine snow cover now blemished by dark pools and trampled dirt clods. Some of them moved, and moaning reached us on the light northern breeze. My heart sank when my eye fell on a larger form here and there. Two horses down. Already we have casualties. A quick scan of the front line showed a few holes as well, where unfortunate guards had fallen.

“Hey!” Burd pointed his claymore at a moving silhouette at the base of the Gate. A scamp, one arm missing at the shoulder, staggered toward the oblate lens of fire. “We can’t let him warn the others!”

But at least one of the Mo Gu riders also had the same thought. A few bowstrings twanged above us, and the scamp fell just short of its goal, the remaining hand nearly touching the edge of the Deadlands.

“That was easy,” Burd remarked softly out the side of his mouth to me. “Too easy, feels like.”

“There’ll be more,” I answered. “But now we get a little respite.”

Martin Septim set Blanco trotting along the front, stopping to speak with each leader. Then the white stallion was bounding toward me.

“Vonius needs to pull back,” Martin said quietly. “Lerus, too. Let’s replace them with Anvil. We have wounded and dead to pull off the field.”

“How many?” I dreaded the answer.

“One dead each from Lerus’s and Vonius’s contingent, and three wounded in the Bravil line, one more from Kvatch.” Martin’s hazel eyes glimmered in the twilight. “Three of the riders are down, too, as well as two of their horses.” He lifted his gaze to the rim above us. “But it looks like we have help.”

I turned to look in the same direction. Two big-boned black-and-white spotted horses stood at the rim, tossing their heads and stamping their massive feet against the cold. A smile crept across my face as I recognized the Skyrim Paints from my years of service in the North. A wagon creaked behind them. Beside them stood several two-legged forms, their silhouettes showing no sign of armor.

“Talk to them, and report back to me,” Martin’s tone held unmistakable command. I recognized the glamour of the Dragonblood and bowed my head to him.

As I did in my Legion days, I ran up the side of the bowl and approached the farm cart first. Nonius stood at the head of the two draft horses. Their massive heads swung towards me in unison, then they snorted at the smell of clannfear blood and scamp sulfur on the breeze that followed me. However, they held their ground.

“I am here to remove wounded and dead as needed,” Nonius said. “Petrine will be down with the other team soon. We will bring the most severely wounded to the Chapel for healing.”

“Thank you, Nonius,” I clasped his shoulder. I knew he felt the same fear that Red and Jasmine had so ably demonstrated. However something of the Skyrim Paints’ phlegmatic nature seemed to rub off on him, for he nodded and smooched at them. They started down the hill, the wooden wheels rattling over the smaller stones.

Cirroc stepped forward out of the gloom. “I can do field healing here,” he said. “If any men are able to head back into battle right away -” his voice trailed off, and I knew he was thinking of long-ago combat. Silently I thanked Talos for this former Legion immunes. “Your skills will be most appreciated here, but what of the Chapel?” I asked.

“I have excellent students there, and Selena will supervise them,” he answered with a nod. “Her guildmates are already preparing potions for her.”

I hope she doesn’t have Frasoric in charge of that! I kept silent. Orania’s judgment could be trusted, I knew by now.

“One other thing, Julian,” Cirroc nodded toward the dark cluster of armed figures approaching us. “Please let Emperor Martin know that the Bruma Chapter of the Fighter’s Guild is ready to fight, as well.”

“Aye, that’s right!” A lean Orsimer woman stopped beside us. “We’re not many in number, but we have plenty of skills and experience!” She slapped her gauntleted hand against her iron cuirass for emphasis. “Bumph gra-Gash, Chapter Head, at your service!” Her fangs gleamed in the dusk. “We just got the go-ahead from Modryn Oreyn to join in the fight!”

I scanned the small group. “How many of you are there?”

“Eight,” gra-Gash answered stoutly.

I nodded to myself. They may not have the cohort tactics down flat, but they sure can fight. Maybe when we resort to close quarter combat, they can be useful then. “Then I’m certain the Emperor will be glad of your assistance, gra-Gash,” I said. “Let me take you to him.”

This post has been edited by haute ecole rider: Jun 6 2012, 05:20 PM

[Lady Saga]

@Lady Saga: Welcome to the endurance race that OHDH has turned into! I'm impressed that you managed to read all 300,000 plus words that make up Julian's story so far. I hope you haven't found it too boring to slog through.

No no, I meant that I started this story, Chapter 1.3a is where I'm at now. It ain't boring!

p5

This post has been edited by Lady Saga: Jun 10 2012, 05:57 PM

[SubRosa]

Ah, so Mo Gu is the moving target competition in Korean horse archery. A very clever use of the name for OHDH.

I see the troops are digging in behind the low stone wall, the cavalry has found a place to sweep in, and we even have trebuchets! W00T. In wonder what highly flammable material they might be using for ammo, to be Enemies Exploded in Delphinic fashion? Greek fire perhaps? Oh, even more clever, giant fragmentation grenades!

For one second, I saw again the bones of his skull emerging in the light from Talos’s light.
Uh oh, another bad premonition. Since I am mentioning that line, you used the word light twice in it.

The Emperor also has a very wise plan for Julian's role here as well. Forward Observer, reserve, and overall coordinator of the entire battle. That is quite the big step from being a simple centurion in the cohort for newbies!

Now the Daedra charge! I am intensely reminded of Pickett's Charge as the artillery rips their ranks to shreds, to be followed by the volleys of arrows. With Martin sitting calmly upon his horse through it all, just like General Hancock. Quite a battle you are treating us to haute!

The first clash went rather well. But I am reminded that was only the beginning. Now the Daedra will know that they have a fight on their hands, and will start putting it all in. It will only get harder from here on out.

Yay, the Fighters Guild has arrived! So nice to see them, and the Mages Guild, making a contribution here. It always felt rather lame how the game left them out of things.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Jun 3 2012, 12:02 AM

[Acadian]

Wonderful! You have so very much going on here, yet you managed it expertly. You clearly conveyed the fear, sights and even the sounds of first blood on the Plain of Caribou.

You honor me with the kind words in your pre-story comments. I was instantly reminded of them when the heavy horses arrived drawing a wagon to move casualties. Similarly, I love how you have the farmers, mages and priests all involved in the healing effort. And lastly, I smiled in agreement with the hope that Jeanne Frasoric had perhaps found ‘appropriate’ duties to suit her particular. . . talents. I’m sure her 15 second scamp can be put to use somehow.

Although OHDH, TF and BF each tell the story of the crisis in their own way, my heart fills with pride to see the guild of mages so involved here. I’m sure also, that having the heroes of the Fighters Guild take part brings more than a faint smile to SubRosa.

This stage of your story is nothing short of epic. There are two OHDH aspects that really stand out. First, is how you’ve brought those in Julian’s ‘guild’ (the Blades) so fully to life (in four cases, back to life). Secondly is how you so gently weave in the fact that Akatosh’s divine hand is everpresent. I have no doubt it is He who deflected shrapnel from Martin and his beautiful, brave and borrowed steed.

This is at least the second time that a vision possibly foreshadowing Martin's demise has appeared to Julian - a powerfully poignant reminder of his destiny.

[McBadgere]

Another one I read and forgot to comment on... ...Sorry...

Loved the whole of the previous episode...Espescially the speech...Definately had the ring of Boromir's speech in the Two Towers to it... ...Was definately waiting for the "For Gondor!"...*Nods*...I joke, but it was definately a brilliant piece of writing...And I definately applaud it...*Applauds*...See?!...

As for this last one, loved the way you had the earlier section in italics...Loved the planning full-stop...Brilliant tactical stuff...Something else I can't get enough of...Thinking!!...One day, I may start that meself... ...

Aaaamywho...

Very intense battle...Definately loving the scale of it...And the way you're using the...Um...extra units...Um...

...

Absolutely fantastic stuff, made even fantasticerer by Cirroc and Fighters Guild turning up...Oh yes!!...Loves me Fighters Guild does I... ...And as I've previously said, Cirroc just rocks!... ...

See, full of love is I...*Nods*...

Excellent stuff...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

[Grits]

It was so interesting to read Julian’s mental review of the planning session. Her Legion experience really pays off here as she coordinates the various forces. I am enjoying Julian’s clear and well-informed vision of this battle!

[haute ecole rider]

@LadySaga: Why, thanks for telling me Julian's story isn't boring!

@SageRosa: Though it doesn't appear in Julian's story, I imagine Camillus arriving at Bruma, surveying the field in some dismay, then putting his support troops to work putting up breastworks and defensive emplacements around the one area his cavalry can run! Likewise Burd, Gan Luseph, and Vonius putting their heads together and developing this. I have to credit Dee Foxy for putting me on the path that led to the idea of trebuchets and frag grenades. I asked him what could be made with readily available materials, and what does Bruma have a lot of? Snow and stone! So, yes, a bit of steampunk in there too! And yes, Pickett's Charge as well as the sands at Omaha Beach and Iwo Jima are exactly what I was thinking of when I wrote this battle. Unfortunately, we won't get to see much of the Fighter's Guild in action, as Julian is needed elsewhere and this tale is from her viewpoint.

@Acadian: Thanks for your kind words! That you smiled upon reading of our brave and steady Skyrim Paints and of our little Bruma chapter of the Mages Guild helping out behind the scenes is reward enough for both Julian and I. I knew that Sage Rose would love the military planning and the trebuchets! And I'm glad that the Blades came more alive for you. Now we get to see them in battle as they should be, and sadly, aren't in the game. We will see more of this later on in the tale. As for Akatosh's hand, let's just say that Blanco is a Witchhorse for a reason, and we are beginning to see it in play here. So as far as Akatosh's hand is concerned, it could be all he did was pair Blanco with Julian. But yes, we will see more divine (and spiritual) intervention very soon.

@McBadgere: As always, your comments make me smile. It's ironic that Martin's speech should make you think of Boromir's speech, considering that both are played by the same actor (Sean Bean, ). It looks like I hit the balance I was seeking - something bigger than the puny stuff in the game, yet not so big that Julian can't see all of it. I've always loved trying to make do with what one has, rather than relying on sheer numbers.

@Grits: I'm not sure how much longer Julian will keep a clear and well-informed vision! But here is where her Legion experience really, really pays off. She knows what to disregard and what to focus on. It's not easy, as we will see later in the chapter, but it means that it is much harder to rattle our old pilus.

The story so far: On the Plain of Caribou before Bruma, the allies have repelled the first Daedric attack from the one gate so far. It has gone rather well, as the daedra are apparently not expecting this level of resistance from the Nirn folk. Now we get a breather, but they'll be baaaack with greater power and forces.

***********************
Chapter 30.8 A Brief Respite

Once the Legion cavalry recovered their fallen riders from the field, they borrowed Nonius’s team to drag the two dead horses from the field. As I walked between the lines, settling Varus’s men in the place formerly occupied by Bravil and Kvatch, Leland’s voice drifted down to me.

“Why waste time on those dead nags?” he asked his second, none other than Amminus Gregori. “They were too slow and worthless!”

Gregori opened his mouth to reply, but caught the look on my face as my feet turned toward the Cheydinhal leader. Instead, the lieutenant nodded at me.

“Even boot-pounders in the Legion fully understand the value of those nags,” I stopped before the broad-shouldered Breton captain. He glared up his nose at me and tossed his chest out. “Horses would prefer to run from danger. But these horses ran into it. Why? Not for the sake of the Empire, or for some notion of noble cause. But because their riders asked them to. And when they fall, they are accorded the same honors as any of us Legion soldiers.” I waved up toward the cavalry. “Many’s the time I’ve been glad for those brave horses. They’ve saved many a boot-pounder before, and will do so again, for as long as the Imperial Legion shall exist!” I took advantage of my greater height and stepped toe-to-toe with him. “Or have you forgotten your Legion experience already?”

Muscles rippled along his jaw as Leland returned my stare levelly. I had to give him credit for self-control. Now I knew for certain that Leland had never served in the Legion. The only question remained was how did Indarys end up with him?

When Leland kept stubborn silence, I stepped back. “When it’s your turn to take the front, Captain Leland,” I kept my voice even, “see to it that you earn those honors should you fall.” I turned and stalked back to the Anvilians.

“I’ll never fall,” Leland sneered at my back. “Honors are no good if you’re dead.”

I halted and turned around. “Do you intend to fight at all, Captain Leland?”

“I intend to stay alive!” Leland shot back.

“We all intend to stay alive,” I pitched my voice so that Gregori and the entire Cheydinhal contingent could hear me. “But this is war, and war has the final word, not us. Do well to remember that, Captain, and think hard on how you want to go if today is your day to die. Do you want to be mortally wounded in the front? Or the back?”

Without waiting for a response from the arrogant captain, I spun on my heel and headed back to the front line. My track carried me past the Leyawiin contingent, and I caught the pensive look on Cordelia’s face. She heard what I just said. Looks ready to wet her greaves, that one. I wished I could give her some liquid courage, but I needed her to keep her wits about her. At least her men know to look to Apsice for her orders.

Cordelia caught my look and squared her shoulders. Her lips firmed, and she gave me a slight nod. Good, she’s finding something in those shaking knees of hers.

I made my way along the line to where Martin and Camillus sat their mounts just behind the center. Both of them watched the field, with Jauffre, Baurus, Steffan, Hallstein and Varus gathered around the two horses.

Camillus saw my approach and waved for me to join them. “I saw you with the Cheydinhal captain,” he remarked casually - for him - when I stopped between the two mounts. I spared a glance at Blanco and rubbed his shoulder. “Is he going to be trouble, Julian?”

Blanco seems to be in good spirits, I noted as I thought of my response. Warm but not lathered. Not blowing hard, either. At the white horse’s right knee, Sai nuzzled my hand in greeting. Absently I rubbed his ears. “Well, he needed a lesson in Legion honor, sir,” I said finally. “But I think he’ll fight.” More to avoid being seen a coward than anything else. “I just question his motives for being here.”

Martin’s eyes fell on me. “You can’t worry about Cheydinhal, Julian,” he said after a moment. “I need you to coordinate our forces and rotate them as best as you can. If Leland won’t fight, I trust you will think of something else.”

“We can’t afford to lose that century, Sire,” I responded grimly. “But I think Amminus Gregori, his second, will do the right thing.”

“And I think you’ll back him up if it comes to it!” Camillus growled softly. “As I recall it, I never doubted the loyalty of the Ninth as long as you were in command of it. I’ve no doubt ye’ll do the same here, Julian.” He shifted his gaze to Martin. “I hope you appreciate the champion you have, Sire!”

Martin’s smile did nothing to ease my embarrassment at Camillus’s praise. “Oh, I doubt you have any idea how much I do, Inspector General.” He turned his face back to me. “And Julian, remember Vonius said the interval between the second and third Gates was shorter, so we may not get another break before the Great one opens.”

“Yes, Sire,” I assured him. “I’ll be ready.”

Martin leaned down to me. “And trust in your Witchhorse to keep me safe. I already do.” He smiled crookedly. “I’m beginning to understand what such horses are capable of. I shall tell you of it afterwards.”

“I look forward to it, Sire,” I nodded, giving Blanco one last stroke along his arched crest. The stallion swung his head around and nibbled briefly at my mailed arm. “May Akatosh and Talos bless and keep you, Sire.”

“And you, Julian,” Martin nodded. “Remember the Dragon.”

I stepped back as he kneed Blanco along the line, stopping here and there to speak to the guardsmen preparing for the next onslaught. Remember the Dragon? He was speaking of Akatosh, but not in the way these Legion soldiers speak of Akatosh. I recalled our conversation so long ago, after my near-death experience. Only he and Baurus knows of it. And Baurus is not talking. Camillus may think Martin Septim is reminding me of the Red Dragon I once followed.

I became aware of Camillus’s steady regard as the Blades followed after Martin. and looked back up at the mountain. He leaned forward, crossing his arms casually over the pommel of his Legion saddle.

“Julian, do you remember how you served me in Skyrim?”

“Yes, sir, I do,” I answered.

“I need you to know that it wasn’t my decision to invalidate you out of the Legion like that,” his blue gaze turned to the mane of his horse. He flipped an errant lock of black hair to the right side of the bay’s neck and smoothed it down with his palm. “But by the time I learned of it, you were already gone, disappeared into Cyrodiil.”

“It wasn’t your fault, sir,” I knew the truth. The order for my discharge had not come from Camillus, but rather from the immunes in charge of my recovery. The legion healer had determined me physically and mentally unfit for further service and signed the medical discharge without much discussion, with me or anyone else.

Camillus sighed and lifted his gaze to the red sky above us. It was now full dark, but the red glow washed everything the color of blood. “I thought to tell you to serve this Martin Septim as you have served me,” he said finally. “But I see that you have developed skills and abilities beyond my comprehension. You are truly the new Emperor’s champion.” He straightened up in the saddle. “Everything happens for a reason, I suppose. Did Akatosh foretell this coming and pull you out of the Legion to serve an unknown heir?” His gaze dropped back to me. “Because if you were still in the Legion, Julian, you and I wouldn’t be here.”

I gazed at him, my mind whirling with his words. If I had been in the Legion, I would never have met Uriel Septim. If I still served Camillus, who would be in my place here? “Maybe,” I said finally. “Or perhaps it is only Akatosh working with what He has, sir. After all, that is what Tiber Septim did four hundred years ago, and we honor him as Talos.”

Camillus drew breath to respond, but a sudden booming crack stopped his words. The bay horse staggered as the red light intensified, the air sizzled, and I was forced to my knees. I threw a glance over my left shoulder, and saw the tip of a second Gate flaring above the bowed backs of the guardsmen to the west side of the bowl. Several strides away, Blanco reared, screaming defiance at the dark forms spilling out of the new Gate.

I struggled to my feet as the bay snorted and tossed his head. Automatically I laid a hand on his nose and settled him, before I cast my gaze around. More daedra spilled out of the first Gate as well, and this time they weren’t scamps and clannfear, but different.

“Get back to your cavalry, General!” I shouted, pushing the horse’s head toward the southeastern rim. Camillus gave me a hurried Legion salute before kicking his terrified mount into a gallop. As the bay bolted away, I looked for Martin. He was already trotting Blanco away from me, westward behind the line. I could hear him shouting encouragement to the guards as they struggled to their feet.

I ran in the opposite direction, pulling guards upwards as I moved. “On your feet!” My pilus voice crackled beneath the escalated volume of the screaming souls and spurred the guards to obey my command. “Ready arms! Be strong, be steady!” Once I was certain the line would hold, I fell back to my place beside Burd.

“No matter how many times I’ve seen these damned things open,” the Bruma captain shouted at me above the growing din, “I can’t get used to them.” His eyes widened in the red gloom. “What on Nirn are those things?”

A quick study of the daedra turned my blood icy cold in spite of the heat emanating from the two Gates. Flaming women danced toward the front line, pausing to send fireballs in the direction of the guardsmen. Behind the flame atronaches moved immense bulky forms that, like the clannfear, were reptilian in form. Their elongated heads balanced massive tails above short-legged bodies. Pointed, jagged teeth glimmered in the beasts’ gaping maws.

“The hot ladies are flame atronachs, I know,” Burd said, pulling his claymore out of its back sheath. “But what are those other things?”

“I’ve heard of them,” I answered. “I think they’re daedroth.” Now I knew why daedroth teeth were even rarer than daedra hearts in alchemical collections. “Pass the word, Burd - they’re fast, and those tails are deadly!” I turned for the southwestern rim, but one of the two battlemages stopped me.

“We know what they are!” he shouted. “Leave them to the archers and us!”

“What are they vulnerable to?” I wanted to know.

“Shock spells - either cast or enchanted!” Already the mage was shaping a sizzling charge in his hands. I thought of Akatosh’s Touch. But already white lightning was streaking toward the monsters below.

“Julian, the signal!” Burd grabbed my shoulder. I turned back to see Martin’s sword catching red fire above Blanco’s white head. Some corner of my mind realized that the white stallion, unlike the rest of us, was not washed in blood-red but remained as pristine white as new-fallen snow. What is that? No, more important things to think about. I sent the starlight spell toward the roiling thunderclouds above.

[ghastley]

Do you want to be mortally wounded in the front? Or the back?”

And does he get the choice of now or later?

Overall, I like the way you have a contrast between military discipline and Dagon's chaos in these battle scenes. But I'm expecting the unexpected, because that's the enemy's strength.

[SubRosa]

A modern trebuchet. That was neat! I remember seeing a little half-hour or hour long show about ten years ago where some folks built one with the same materials they had a thousand years ago, and actually tried it out on a section of castle wall. It was most impressive.

So it is another run-in with Leland (I keep thinking Charles Leland, but I don't think the Cheydinhal Captain ever wrote any neo-pagan books ). Yep, that one is definitely not from the Legion. It really does beg the question of how he got his job. Methinks there was plenty of bribery and forgeries involved... On the other hand, since he is marked as essential, he comes in really handy during this battle!

Did Akatosh foretell this coming and pull you out of the Legion to serve an unknown heir?
Now there is an intriguing question. But a life takes so many strange twists and turns, even without the benefit of divine intervention.

Flame Astronauts and Daedroth! Yikes, they have upped the ante.

Some corner of my mind realized that the white stallion, unlike the rest of us, was not washed in blood-red but remained as pristine white as new-fallen snow.
Blanco lives up to his name. Another very neat little touch here haute, that shows us there is more to this horse than meets the eye.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Jun 6 2012, 09:38 PM

[Acadian]

Leland is definitely a burr under Julian’s saddle – and one I expect she’ll learn more about. But she’s a leeeetle busy right now!

And the fight with the second gate is joined – with the baddies getting bigger.

Again, we see evidence of Akatosh’s hand at work in setting some of the players on the field.

It was a nice touch having that battlemage instruct the weaknesses of Daedroth.

Noting that Blanco was retaining his pristine whiteness was a mystical/neat observation, and the way Julian processed it served to display that she was properly focused on bigger priorities at the moment.

[McBadgere]

I stopped before the broad-shouldered Breton captain. He glared up his nose at me and tossed his chest out.

Um, I may have missed the memo...And I have absolutely no problem going along with it so it's not a complaint, merely an observation...Um...*Twiddles fingers nervously*...Isn't Leland an Imperial?...From what I remember my Imperial had to look up at him...And his voice is that Imperial one that's everywhere isn't it?...Like I said, not a complaint or a "Change this!!", just an...Erm?...Y'know?... ...

Oh and...

(Sean Bean, )

Oh look, another one...(The wife loves him too. ...Still, between him and Katy Perry's choice in men, it gives hope to all us uncouth bits of rough everywhere... ...)

Aaaamywho...Brilliant pause in the storms...Excellently done...I'm loving the way you're starting the Leland quest thing in the middle of all this...Brilliant stuff...

Love the quiet talk with Camillus, although it does sound worryingly like an "If we never meet again, I'll see you on the other side" speech... ...

There's so much coolness in the hints about the past that the "Reading older parts of stories" list has collapsed into a black hole due to its having reached critical mass... ...Sorry everyone, the world is doomed!!...

What? *Looks at wife*...Oh, I could have just put it in the fire?...Why didn't you say that before woman?!...

*Sigh*...

Aaaamywho...

Loved your chapter...Massively brilliant and amazing...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...




EDIIITTT!!! - Balls...My bad...Steeeuuuuuppiiiid man...Yes, I can hear it now...Breton voice..."I don't know you and I don't want to know you..."...Still think he was taller than me though... ...



This post has been edited by McBadgere: Jun 7 2012, 06:59 AM

[Grits]

I wondered if Camillus would get around to the subject of Julian’s discharge. He knows not to assume he can say it tomorrow. An interesting thought that Akatosh’s, er, talon could have been at work even then.

The blood red sword and the gleaming white stallion made quite an image! Woo hoo!

[haute ecole rider]

@ghastley: Yes, we will soon get to see how Leland fights. Already in this post we begin to see the sort of fighter he is. I hope there will be plenty of unexpected to come in the next week or so (our time)!

@SubRosa: You and I might have watched the same show! Those siege engines are cool stuff, amazing they were able to engineer to that level without the benefits of AutoCAD! Clearly Leland is not Legion material, and I wanted to set up what is one of my favorite quests in Cheydinhal for a future story/post. The mystery of his origins will certainly stay with Julian now! And as for the chain of events that led to Julian becoming the Son's Companion, it is all purely coincidental, but I wanted to play up the human (and maybe mer) tendency to see divine intervention in everything. Certain elements of the battle to come are certainly due to divine intervention! I may have said this already, but this battle is where we really begin to understand just what a Witchhorse is. Blanco shines in this entire chapter as does Martin, Camillus, and all the other brave soldiers on the Plain of Caribou.

@Acadian: Apt metaphor for Leland's status where Julian is concerned! She won't stop until she gets to the bottom of the mystery! And yes, Julian is too focused on the battle (old habits, indeed!) to stop and wonder why Blanco won't reflect the same red color as everyone else.

@McB: I'm glad that you are enjoying how I'm bringing up the Leland quest in the midst of the Battle of Bruma. It won't see its logical conclusion until well after the MQ ends, so we'll have to wait to see how Julian gets to the bottom of the mystery! I hope my PM to you about character heights clarified things a bit for you.

@Grits: I wanted to make it obvious that though it wasn't Camillus's fault, he still can't help feeling guilty over the way Julian was booted out of the Legion. I'm glad you liked the image of the blood red sword above the white stallion!

The story so far: After a brief respite, during which the allies had just enough time to pull their dead and wounded off the field, the second gate opened and our friends found themselves facing bigger enemies. Just how devastating these enemies are will become clear here.


*******************************
Chapter 30.9 And Then There Are Two

Once again as the front troops took cover behind the rough ramparts, the Legion battlemages sent those powerful fireballs arching over our heads. Again the collision of spells and rock-covered snowballs sent a devastating shower propelled by white steam over the daedra. Again entire groups of the enemy were cut down by shrapnel. And again, Blanco and Martin remained unscathed.

Once again I sent the healing spell skyward. Bowstrings twanged in unison. Again a volley of arrows, sparking with the same atmospheric energy as the mages’ shock bolts, soared upward before stooping downward into the mass of flame atronaches and daedroth. As with the scamps and clannfear, the remaining reptilian beasts staggered from the strikes and kept on, while the atronaches collapsed and went out like dying fires.

Once again the Mo Gu mounted up, and again they swept down from the heights. Several of the remaining atronaches and some of the daedroth fell before their arrows as the horses bolted through their disorganized ranks between our front line and the Gates.

Now Skingrad, on the left wing, bore the brunt of the attack from the second Gate. The Anvilians held their own against those from the eastern Gate. I sent the triple restoration spell skyward just as Martin turned his face in my direction. The draco horn blew, and the regular cavalry charged, hot on the heels of the Mo Gu.

Like a river of thunder, horses and riders flowed across the southern half of the bowl, the Mo Gu loosing arrows as quickly as they could acquire targets, and the spears of the regular cavalry smashing through scaled skin in bursts of blood. Yet I saw several riders unhorsed, and many brave mounts went down before the lashing tails of the immense daedroths. Now clannfear appeared from the Gates, darting out among their larger brethren to slash and bite at downed soldiers. Horses screamed as daedroth tore their bellies open. Those of the cavalry that turned behind the western Gate and crossed back to the southwestern rim were much fewer in number.

This time the daedra were not so easily repulsed from our front lines. Hallstein’s left flank began to curve back under the blunt assault from the daedroth. As the last of the cavalry still running cleared the field, Varus’s guards began to feel the pressure as well. I saw the line begin to waver and turned to Burd.

“It’s time,” I said to him. “You know what to do.”

He nodded and stabbed his claymore skyward. “BRUMA!” his voice nearly matched Camillus’s battle cry for volume and bass. “With me!” As the yellow surcoats surged forward to reinforce Varus’s line, I moved to stand beside Ashcroft.

“Take the center, back up Anvil’s left flank,” I advised him. He nodded and spat curt orders to the blue-clad Chorrolians. They moved forward with Legion precision, arms and shields ready.

I ran westward to where the green livery of Leyawiin still waited. Apsice and Cordelia met my gaze, the former legionary with resolute steadiness, the inexperienced decanus with dismay. I stopped beside them and leaned forward. “It’s your turn, too,” I said. “Bolster Hallstein’s line, do not let those daedroth break through! Don’t worry about the fire ladies,” Mazoga’s term for the voluptuous atronaches dropped easily from my mouth, “they like to stand back and shoot flares. Focus on the big beasties, and watch out for those tails! Move!”

Apsice waited until Cordelia nodded her understanding, then turned to the waiting Leyawiin guards. “Leyawiin!” His voice carried well beneath the chaos before us. “To the front! Let’s go!”

To her credit, Cordelia moved forward with her guards and kept up with them as they closed the short distance between them and the back of Skingrad’s line. I turned and looked up the hill. Cheydinhal is next. That’s a full century, I’d like to reserve them for the third gate. But if Anvil and Skingrad don’t hold, I may have no choice.

I searched for Blanco and Martin amid the melee that now stretched along the southern rim of the bowl. Again I noticed how Blanco’s coat gave off none of that red wash that covered the rest of the world. As if he was a Great Welkynd Stone in himself, the white stallion shimmered with a pure white light as if defying the corrupting power of Mehrunes Dagon himself. For all I know about such things, that is exactly what Blanco is doing. Is he capable of shielding his rider as well as himself?

That white-tipped brown shadow still darted alongside Blanco. He seemed to be ducking between the fighting men and women to snap at the smaller daedra before returning to Blanco’s side. Don’t you get hit by one of our blades, silly dog, I thought at him. But he seemed to time his attacks as each fighter sought to recover. That’s the way the Legio Ten dogs fought - attacking on their partners’ recovery, retreating as weapons swept forward. Thank you, Cimber, for your training.

Blanco charged a daedroth that had broken through Hallstein’s line and now approached the green surcoats of Cordelia’s vanguard. My heart in my mouth, I half-expected Blanco to execute one of the combat maneuvers we had practiced. But instead he slipped to the left side of the reptile, giving Martin the opportunity to slice his greatsword across the beast’s side. The long blade bit deep into the daedroth. The creature staggered and fell writhing as dark fluid gushed from the wound.

Blade armor flowed around the dead beast as they surged after Martin and Blanco. They moved with surprising speed and agility, keeping up with the pair and deflecting fireballs with their shields. Here and there one of Steffan’s contingent would pause to bolster the front line.

As Blanco spun around to charge back, I realized that Martin held the greatsword with both hands. The reins flopped loosely on Blanco’s neck. How in ‘Blivion do they know what to do? Briefly I envied the coordination between horse and rider. That should be me down there!

Blanco neatly leaped the flailing tail of the downed beast and again ran past it. Martin stabbed downward with the tip of his sword into the daedroth’s chest. The reptile gave one last roar, then fell still.

Where is the levade, the courbette we practiced? Does Blanco understand that Martin may not know how to ride those maneuvers? Is he being careful not to unseat Martin Septim?

Blanco kept cantering behind the front, heading for another spot where the line buckled backward from another daedroth. His white coat cast a pure gleam on the mail and surcoats of those he passed, briefly bleaching away the red wash. Here and there I saw persistent splashes of scarlet and knew that several of our soldiers were already well blooded. I could no longer see Sai in the melee, but I trusted he still remained close to Blanco. Likewise, the Blades followed after Martin like a blue and gold comet’s tail.

A movement from upslope caught my attention, and I glanced upward to see mages, traveling in pairs, redeploying just below the rim behind Cheydinhal. Then one appeared next to me. “Julian,” he gasped. “The Inspector General sent me to tell you there’s no more room for the regulars, and both them and the Mo Gu have taken considerable casualties. What are the Emperor’s orders?”

I glanced down at the front line again to see Martin strike down the second daedroth. No time to ask. “Hold the cavalry for now. We can still use the Mo Gu’s arrows, though.”

The mage nodded his understanding. “The Inspector General advises you to clear those Gates so his cavalry can save the day!”

The laugh that escaped my lips held little humor, but I acknowledged the point. “Agreed! We will do our best, then!” With a swirl of homespun blue and glitter of polished plate, the mage was gone.

Leland approached me, his gaze on the battle. In the red glare, I could see only resoluteness in his brown eyes. “When do we jump in?” His tone was neutral, his interest clearly in the battle below. He may be lacking Legion experience, but it seems he is a professional soldier regardless.

“You’ve got the largest contingent outside the Legion right here, Captain,” I answered. “I’d like to keep you for when the third Gate opens - you might be the only one holding the line then.”

The expression that flitted over Leland’s rugged face could be a grin, or a grimace, I wasn’t certain which. “Good, more glory for us.” Now he met my gaze, and there was none of the arrogance I had seen earlier. “We’ll be ready for the signal.”

“Good.” I watched him slouch his way back to his guard. Their line was not as ruler-straight as Ashcroft’s or as crisp as Lerus’s, but I still hoped they would fight as well as those two contingents.

Another reassessment of the field showed the front line still intact, and considerably fewer daedroth still roaming the field. With the redeployment of the Legion battlemages, shock bolts flew from a wider arc around the rim to strike even those few remaining monsters down.

With the last of them down, I took a deep breath and started down to catch up with Martin. But once again the air before us cracked and sizzled, and red fire surged up at the north edge of the Plain of Caribou. Once again all were forced to their knees by the wash of energy and magic from the far side.

This post has been edited by haute ecole rider: Jun 13 2012, 07:33 PM

[SubRosa]

Here they come again! It started out well enough. I especially liked the description of the dying atronach's winking out like fires. But I can see the Daedra are getting more serious this time. Julian had to put much of the reserve in. Even Martin is seeing action! I see Martin is not using his hands to guide Blanco either. WooT. Even better than John Wayne taking the reins in his teeth!

As you said in your comments, Blanco is really shining here. Literally in fact. That is a very neat touch. It looks like there might be more Witch in him than Horse.



nits:
Your first three paragraphs all start with 'Once again'. I am not sure if that was on purpose, but you might want to revisit that to cut down on the redundancy.

[Acadian]

More epic goodness! A grand scale indeed, but rendered personal and easy to identify with by such details as daedroth tearing open the bellies of downed horses. Speaking of horses, a bittersweet touch of jealousy was understandably evident as Julian noted how smoothly Martin and her stallion worked together. I can see that Blanco still has more to teach his mistress. And while still on the theme of animals, it sure looks like Lucky Puppy Sai knows how to survive the chaos that you capture so well.

As Julian’s eyes traveled down the line, you delighted me with the creative variety you used to describe the various city’s contingents. Anvilians and green liveried soldiers from Leyawiin indeed!

And gate number three has just crackled and sizzled its way to fiery life!!!

[Grits]

I love the image of Martin and his shining white steed with their tail of Blades. This episode had a cinematic feeling with the cavalry charge. Very exciting! And now the third Gate is opening. It’s Leland’s turn!

[McBadgere]

An excellent continuation there...As it's all part of the same battle, the consistency is brilliant...Kinda as if you've written it all and then chopped it up into little bite sized chunks!!... ...

Yep, cheers for the size pimm...*Cough*...As it were... ...

That horse is something else!!...Love it...And whoa to that doggie there!!...Bless it..

An amazing battle scene that I'm loving every minute of...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

[haute ecole rider]

@SubRosa: Yes, I wanted to make this go around more serious. I thought you (or ghastley or Olen) would pick up on the repetition of "Once again." I did that quite on purpose, because I wanted to establish a rhythm (remember Julian fighting Rielus in Sancre Tor?) to the combat in the beginning before I nudged it in a different direction than before. I did consider your point, but decided to leave it as it is for now.

@Acadian: It is a challenge writing an epic scene like this from the viewpoint of one small player, isn't it? One of the reasons I had Martin make Julian his battle coordinator (so to speak) is so that she would see more of what is going on than if she stayed at Martin's side the whole time. Halfway up the slope to the rim, she can tell us what happened out there and give us an idea of the scale of the thing. I remember Sage Rose taking the perspective of Raven to describe this same scene - it was very effectively done without having to try to explain how her Teresa ended up there.

@Grits: Yes, now it's Leland's turn! Unfortunately, Julian won't get to see much of his fighting style as she will soon be off the battlefield. I do hope you continue to enjoy Blanco and Martin's partnership throughout this battle.

@McB: Well, I did write much of it in one day . . . I tend to write in small chunks and if the inspiration is coming hot and fast I can crank out up to 10,000 words in one day (did that during Nanowrimo). I use Growl to let me know when I'm approaching my target word count for the segment and I then start looking for a natural break. Works great, and I don't spend time watching my numbers, which would spoil my inspiration! I'm glad you're enjoying Blanco and Sai's performance here. The two of them are really shining here, aren't they?

And thanks to input from Dee Foxy, I've made a few minor adjustments to segments 30.7 and 30.9. It shouldn't disrupt too much of the flow of the story, so it's up to you if you want to re-read them. Once again, I'd like to thank SubRosa, Acadian and Dee Foxy for helping me (each in unique ways) write this most difficult chapter in Julian's story.

The story so far: On the Plain of Caribou before Bruma, a third Oblivion Gate has just opened. It is now time for Cheydinhal's century, led by our arrogant Ulrich Leland, to step up to the ramparts. Can Julian resist the urge to take her proper place alongside these brave guards and wait instead for the Great Gate to open before she takes the field?

*****************************
Chapter 30.10 Oblivion Times Three

Leland met my gaze as we struggled to our feet. I nodded at him. “Get down there, take the front.”

The Cheydinhal captain went into action with an economy of movement that impressed me both with its speed and efficiency. Before daedra began spilling out of all three Gates, he had his guards running forward to take their places. They stepped between the other guards and set their shields on top of the rampart just as the Plain of Caribou filled once more.

This time I saw a wide cross section of daedric creatures - scamp, clannfear, flame atronaches and daedroth, as well as a new form - gigantic red-and-black spiders with lithe torsos and flowing hair suggestive of depraved nymphs. These scattered quickly across the field, scuttling sideways like mud crabs but with much greater speed. They sent green flames toward us. Several of Leland’s guards crumpled limply to the ground before white magic flared over the line. The shield magic from the Legion battlemages blocked more of the paralyzing spells, as well as the fireballs from the scamps and fire ladies.

Blanco screamed and reared, and I saw Martin’s sword sweep skywards. White light flowed up from the stallion’s body to surround the Emperor and wash over the surrounding Blades. That’s shield magic! Finally I realized the reason for Blanco’s arcane glow. Is that what Witchhorses do? Cast shield magic?

Then I was running down the slope, slipping between the weary contingents as they fell back to take up the rearguard. I kept Blanco’s glow always before me, and soon I reached the Emperor’s side. Blanco stood still as I touched him with wondering fingertips. He blew through fluttering nostrils as the magicka flowed up my arm to mingle with the enchantment on my mail.

Beside him, Sai yipped excitedly at me, his tongue lolling from the exertions of keeping up with the white horse. I could see dark blood on his brown coat, but he seemed free of pain, as did Blanco. Both seemed to be in good spirits. “Hush Sai,” I held my hand out to him in the stay signal. “Keep an eye on Blanco, hear?”

“Good work, Julian!” Martin grinned down at me, blood and gore streaked across his face. “Be ready, it won’t be long now!” He glanced back up at the rim, where the Fighter’s Guild, and the Bravil and Kvatch guards waited. “One last command for you to relay,” his hazel eyes turned back to me. “Tell them to come down when the Great Gate opens. You won’t have time to relay it then.”

Shouting from the Cheydinhal soldiers drew our attention outwards. I spotted the towering forms of dremora - from the lowly churls all the way up to the kynmarcher rank. These were distinguishable by their red armor trimmed with molten gold that flared and glowed in the gloom and helmets crowned with blood-tipped spikes.

“Hold your ground!” Martin shouted at Cheydinhal. “Let them come to you!” Blanco spun on his hocks as I skipped back out of the way. “Artillery and archers!”

In response, I spiked the starlight spell upwards, followed by a single restoration spell. From the rim above, the Mo Gu archers fired their missiles. This time I heard the distinctive whine of crossbow bolts mingled with the sound of arrows. The darts, fired with more speed and power, not only had the range to cross to the farther side of the Plain, but also had the strength to punch through plate armor. Most of the arrows carried the distinctive sparkle of shock enchantment, but the plain black bolts were just as deadly.

Again clannfear and daedroth proved resistant to much of the volley. Fortunately, the spider nymphs were as vulnerable to arrowheads as the atronaches and scamps. Several collapsed under the onslaught.

Then the homespun missiles’ arrival was announced by trails of fireballs which ended in bright explosions above the center of the Plain. The more resilient daedra and dremora proved to be quite vulnerable to these.

This time, the trebuchets and archers kept firing. With three Gates open in such a small area, the daedra were massed together and made easy targets. Unfortunately, there was now little room for cavalry to maneuver, so we couldn’t bring them to bear without unnecessary casualties. But just because the horses couldn’t run didn’t mean we were without marksmen. And because the cavalry wasn’t running the field, the artillery could keep firing until the Great Gate opened or they ran out of projectiles, which ever came first.

Magicka flashed around the field as our battlemages alternated between offensive shock bolts and protective shield spells. Daedroth and clannfear managed to reach our lines, but soon fell before the sharp blades of Leland’s people. I caught a glimpse of the arrogant Breton clearing his section of the wall with an immense silver battle axe that sliced through daedroth tails and clannfear ribs with deadly ease. Well, at least he can fight.

Then Martin and Blanco were gone, darting westward to bolster the left flank. I turned and saw the right flank also beginning to waver. “Kvatch!” I shouted over the din. “To the left! Bravil, go right!” As the two contingents, now somewhat recovered from their earlier exertions, moved down the bank, I held my hand up to the Fighter’s Guild. Then Hallstein and Varus appeared at my side.

“We have lost a fifth of our guards.” Behind the blood and gore streaking his visage, Hallstein’s gaze held grim determination. “The rest are all wounded, but can fight again with some field healing.”

“The same here, more or less,” Varus added, wiping his eyes with a mailed forearm. “We can go back in if we have to.”

“It’s not over yet,” I answered. “As long as Vonius and Lerus can hold the flanks, I’d like the both of you to wait until the Great Gate opens. It’ll be close combat then, and you’ll have room to maneuver without running into the Deadlands by accident.”

“Aye,” Hallstein nodded. “Wouldn’t want to be caught in there when those itty-bitty ones close.” His eyes flickered at me from the mask of battle. “I heard about Goneld at Kvatch.”

Varus agreed noncommittally. Apparently the guards have had plenty of time to swap war stories around the campfires during their month-long vigil here. “Good,” I clapped their shoulders. “You understand. I’ve got to run.”

“Akatosh go with you,” Varus shouted after me as I turned and ran for the rim and the Fighter’s Guild.

gra-Gash met me at the very edge, red anticipation shining in her black eyes. “Now?” she asked.

“When the Great Gate opens,” I answered, pointing toward the center of the Plain. “I won’t have time to come back for you, so be alert!”

“Aye, we will!” gra-Gash nodded curtly and hefted her huge steel axe. “But hurry up and open the damn thing already!” Her fangs bared in a bloodthirsty grin, and I was briefly glad she was on our side.

A smile that I felt mirrored hers widened my lips. “I’ll do my best, ma’am!” Then I was running back down the slope to the front line.

Now a gap opened in the wall near the center of Cheydinhal’s line. I saw several of the dremora head toward the breach as if drawn to it. Touch flickered in the red gloom as it leaped out of its sheath. I followed its tip straight into that gap and shoved a drain health spell into the cuirass of a kynreeve. Lightning mingled with pale miasma as the dremora groaned and dropped his wave-edged longsword. Another dremora stabbed at me over the first’s falling carcass, and I barely managed to deflect the blow. The black blade sparked as it skittered across Matius’s mail on my wrist, and the kynval staggered as he attempted to recover his balance. I swept Touch downward in a vicious slash at his unprotected knee. More lightning flickered over him before he, too, fell back.

I looked up to see others hanging back, not quite so eager to attack me. One of them growled something at me in that avalanche voice. Two of Cheydinhal’s finest sidled until they closed the gap with me between them. I held the dremora’s gaze and gestured with Touch for him to come closer. He hefted his red and black tower shield before him and raised his mace above his right shoulder.

I flung a shock bolt toward the eye slits in the thorned helm. At this close range, he did not have time to duck or raise his shield, and that high-pitched screaming broke loose from behind the armored visage as he staggered back. His gauntlets pawed at the sizzling helm, and I slid Touch beneath the tower shield into his thigh. Again the shock enchantment of Valdemar’s katana finished the job for me. The other dremora drew back a little more.

Beyond him, something passed between the northern Gate and the two nearer ones. A dark wave swept over the smaller Daedra from the northwest. Cavalry? But there’s no room for them to run? I squinted against the glare.

“What in ‘Blivion?” the guard on my left shouted. “What is a herd of elk doing here?”

Now I saw the horns tossing above the surging backs. Mostly bulls, not yet lost their horns. It’s early yet in the season. I could see some broken antlers here and there. No cows. In the red gleam from the Gates, I could see rolling eyes and foaming saliva streaking back from panicked mouths. The bulls stampeded across the field, attempting to swerve around the Gates and the larger daedra. Some of the animals actually lowered their heads and stabbed at the dremora. Several of the smaller daedra and dremora fell beneath their pounding hooves.

As the remnants of the herd disappeared among the boulders of the eastern rim, I saw many elk were down, and the remaining daedra still standing were swarming the hapless animals. Screams rafted across the bowl as clannfear and daedroth, scamps and spider daedra tore into crippled bulls. How did they end up here? Frenzy? Command creature spells?

Grey bodies ghosted through the carnage, leaping over the downed elk and snapping at anything that still moved after that stampede. Wolves! Someone is commanding the wild creatures here? Who has that kind of power? But I didn’t have time to wonder. The two dremora who had hesitated before us returned to the attack. I shifted my attention from the wild wolves back to more immediate concerns as I deflected a falling mace with Touch.

My awareness of the battle shrank down to the cluster of dremora before me and the Cheydinhal guards on my left and right hands. They fought as valiantly as I, relying on unenchanted weapons and shields to deliver harm. Yet for every dremora that fell before us, it seemed as if three more took his place.

A lull came in the noise and chaos of the combat, and I looked up from my last dremora carcass to see few daedra still on the field. Dark corpses littered the Plain between the front line and the Gates. The occasional wolf swirled among the dead, still snapping and attacking any dremora that still moved. I stepped forward to cast my glance along the front. The Cheydinhal line was considerably thinner, and bodies lay slumped at the feet of those still standing.

Near the center of the bowl, I spotted a huge furry brown form shake off a daedroth attack. The big grizzly reared to his hind feet, immense black claws shimmering in the red light as he swiped the big reptile to the ground. Again, as with the wolves and the elk, I saw something in the bear’s face that told me he was here on another’s command. A few wolves still remained, clustering around a spider daedra that bled from a bulbous abdomen. As I watched, two of the wolves leaped in and tore the terrifying creature apart before succumbing to her paralyzing spell.

For the fourth and final time, an earsplitting crack divided the air as a tremendous arc of fire shed corpses from its shoulders and soared to the red and black clouds above. The surge of energy knocked friend and foe alike from their feet into a jumble of bodies.

My body complaining from the recent abuse it had taken, I staggered to my feet and lifted my eyes to the Great Gate that rose from the center of the Plain. As the surge of fire came to rest at its final height, the three smaller Gates winked out suddenly, as if the central portal had sucked all of the energy of the other three into itself.

This is it.

This post has been edited by haute ecole rider: Jun 14 2012, 01:01 AM

[SubRosa]

Well, at least Leland and his people are doing their job. So far at least. I see we have Spider Daedra now too. Ugh. I hate that paralysis.

Blanco is a Witchhorse indeed! Most knights would give their left, erm, flail head, for a horse that could Shield them.

Now we have Dremora too. This should be just about it then I imagine. And the field is packed with Daedra too. A wonderful killing box for the Imperial missiles.

Some very clever use of misdirection and magic on Julian's part in dealing with the Dremora with the tower shield and mace.

A stampede? Now that is a brilliant idea! You must have been watching Chisum. I loved when they stampeded the cattle through town in the final battle. Like Julian, I wonder who bid the wolves to stampede the elk? It sounds like not only a Witchhorse fights on the Field of Caribou, but a Witch as well. Grizzy vs. Daedroth? Now there is a battle of titans! I am rooting for Team Nirn.

Now this is it. The Great Gate itself!