Knights of the Nine - New Kvatch, Attempt at fan-fic Options

[McBadgere]

No new stuff yet...I have been busy...Sorry...Just a quick note here...


Athynae - Thank you...I appreciate it every time...And sorry about the cliff-hanging...Sadly you may be there...A little while longer... ...

Acadian - The Welsh word (and therefore Elven...Cause a lot of my "elvish" words are Welsh.) for sea is Mor, and the idea of a haven was cool...But, being me I changed it to Havan, like Havanna...Thanks for the thumbsup about it though... ...Cheers for your continued support... ...

Grits - Cheers so much... ...I think we'd all like an island getaway now...I hate my brain... ...Thank you, as ever... ...

DE - Ta!...'Nuff Said!!... ...

mALX - Many many thanks...I'm really enjoying writing these chapters with Areldur...And I'm sure it'll surprise you to know that it's got away from me again... ...So much for planning!...Cheers!!...



Aaamywho, the whole point of posting is to tell you that the Dramatis Personae and Timeline have been updated...

If there's anything I've missed by accident, as opposed to design...Which you won't know...Hmmm...Um...Aaamywho, if I've missed anyone off, please let me know...Ta...

I'm so sorry...I really hadn't realised what I've been putting you all through... ...

[Colonel Mustard]

Hooray, an update!

Once again, good stuff, with some excellent dialogue, but this part ehre kind of stuck out for me here as being somewhat strange:

Nol looked at Koyree, her eyes wide. Nol shook his head. Koyree looked pained and vanished.

“NO!” shouted the Justicar.

One of the guards squealed as his innards started spilling on the ground, but then, as nothing more happened, the Thalmor shouted “We’ll find you! You can’t go far!...Damn.”

Would they really just let her go like that? Seeing as they're determined and she's an enemy of the Thalmor, that's rather strange, surely?

Aside from that, though, it's good, and I'm looking forward to more.

[jack cloudy]

Well, I don't think they plan on letting her leave. The point is that she vanished. And I'm betting she used some knightly trick instead of the detectable sort of invisibility. With the Knidium and the big library, I wouldn't be surprised to hear that the good guys have ties with the KOTN or a KOTN associate.

And no! Not Nol and friends! You meanie Thalmor.

[McBadgere]

Mustard and Jack...Many thanks m'friends...Mustard, hope this next bit clears that a bit...Jack, cheers, that's pretty much right... ...Sorry, I appear to have become predictable... ...Either that or you've got a camera looking over me shoulder...*Looks back*... ...Many thanks both of you...

Reet...NEW PARTS ALERT!!...

In typical Robert fashion, this part interrupts the flow of the plot...But Story Fairy insisted...*Shrug*...sorry...So, for this weekend...One part per day, 'cause it's a longie...And hopefully back to Nol next weekend...

Where we were...

Nol Areldur et al had been captured on their return to the Summerset Isles, now controlled by the Thalmor...His daugher Koyree had escaped by Shrouding herself...Which is nice...

This...Is what happened next...

Oh yes it is...Oh, the Empire storyline is set in the year 3E 604...So the 10 years thing is back from that...Just so you know... ...






1.12 - Empire. (Interlude, Koyree – i)







Dusk, Summerset Isles. 10 years earlier.






Despair threatened Koyree Areldur as she ran through the dark streets of the harbour district towards the sea, and possible freedom. She wept quietly at the thought of leaving her father and friends behind. But even Shrouded, she doubted her chances of taking all of the Thalmor party on. Ondolemar would have cast the life detect as soon as Koyree’s spell had been cast, but being unable to find her that way, the swine would have no choice but to send his guards off to search for her in the city. Maybe that would leave less guards for Dad, she thought, he’d think of some way out.

They’ll be alright, she thought, they’re always alright.

With the Shroud spell cast, there was no chance of detection, so down the middle of the road she ran, until she reached the entrance to the docks. There were Thalmor in abundance here, and as she watched the scene unfold before her, she recognised some of the crew of both ships that been brought to Dusk being taken away, either in chains, or on stretchers. A fight had taken place at least. Maybe some of the $hits had been lost too. She sighed.

She had no choice but to wait for the mass of Thalmor to dissipate, so she looked about herself, exploring options. She chose the most appealing, smiled to herself, and then headed for the eatery nearby.



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To the Altmer behind the counter of ‘The Harbour Bites’, it must have seemed like the door had blown open and then shut itself.

“I don’t care who you are, I don’t want trouble, but no Shrouds in here. Not, you understand, that I can do much about it, it’s just more polite yes?” said an elderly gentleman from a seat to one side of the room.

The Altmer behind the counter frowned at him.

“Go on Falrast, take a break.” Said the old man. The younger Altmer took of his apron and the grey-haired man watched him walk out of the back. “Now then. It’s just you and me.”

Koyree appeared.

“See, that wasn’t so hard was it? Now, what would you like?” the softly Skyrim accented, elderly owner stood and walked behind the counter.

Koyree frowned and walked forward.

“Oh, don’t worry missy, whatever it is, you pay me money, I give you food. I don’t care. Whatever it is, I don’t care. Now what do you want?”

The young Areldur pointed to something simple and gave the man some money.

“Excellent!” he gave the food and said, “Go sit in the booth over there, no one can see when they come in, and, should things go awry, the back door is straight opposite. Just so you know.”

“Why are you doing this? You have no idea what I, or from what you just said anyone, could have done.” Koyree asked.

“Ah! She speaks at last!” then the old man shrugged, “Because I can; Because it’s more coin; And more importantly, even if you wished to do me harm, I may be old, but you’d stand no chance against me, Shroud or not. Time was when these b@stard Thalmor would have trembled before me.”

“How do you know I’m not one of them, here to fool you into heresy?”

“Because you look like both of your parents, that’s why, and if I thought for a moment that any child of theirs was mixed up with that rabble then I’d think the world coming to an end. Go. Sit. Eat. No one will disturb you here. Well, except me and my inane chatter.” He smiled with a glint in his bright green eyes, and pushed the money back.

Koyree found the booth, then she sat and ate.



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“This is the first place they’d look for you, you know?”

Koyree nodded and shrugged. “I figured they’d already been in here, left again.”

The Imperial smiled, “Hah!..Trained you well didn’t they? Your mum and dad.”

“You know them both? It’s been a while since anyone could say that.”

“Well, I am very old.”

Koyree raised her eyebrow at the idea of what the Imperial thought of old. “I’m one hundred and fifty years old. It’s been at least half that since they’ve been together.”

The Imperial smiled and nodded. “About fifty years ago, you were away for a goodly while with the Navy, Nol came back unexpectedly; Attempted to patch it up with your mother again. She was as shocked as anyone. But she was happy for a time. Her being the head of the Mage’s Guild in the Isles, I was working with her a lot, so I met yer Dad many times and we became friends. So when the inevitable happened, although after ten years or so, I stayed friends with them both.”

Koyree sat open mouthed. “They never said, any of it...I’m so sorry, I’ve never heard of you before. Wait, you were Mage’s Guild?”

“Yeah, amongst other things.”

“And now you make pies?”

“What’s wrong with that?!” the Imperial said mock-affronted while smiling. “Everyone needs food!”

“Ach.” Said the old man. He laced his fingers, pushed outwards with his arms, clicking his knuckles. He then stood and went to the door of the eatery. He briefly opened the door and looked out. He nodded, satisfied and the closed the door again.

Then turned the key in the lock.

Koyree, stopped eating and put down her fork. She put one hand under the table and called a shock spell to it.

The old man walked past her table, caught her eye, frowned and shook his head a tiny amount. He walked to the corner of the eatery and turned quickly.

Koyree saw that his fingers were splayed out wide with his thumbs meeting, a bright green wave shot out of his fingers, moving through the room. Koyree saw her hand and her front glowing green, then she looked startled as in one swift movement, the Imperial reached out, as if grabbing something. With his left arm straight out, hand raised upwards, fingers wide, the old man cast a shield, a diamond shield. Koyree had time for her jaw to drop when the first of the firebolts hit the shield.

“Watch my shop you idiot!” The old man shook his head, flattened out the previously raised hand. The shield shot forward and Koyree poked her head around the edge of the seating and saw a glowing green shape lying on the floor.

“Damn you!” came a shout from that direction, and another firebolt launched outward.

The old man with the brightly glowing eyes, sighed as the firebolt simply dissipated on the shield that was once more at his hand. “Piss.” He simply said, and then twisted his still clasped right hand. There was a snap, and the old man dropped his hands.

Koyree stood up and followed him to the body that had appeared.

“Ye just cannae get the staff.” He shook his head as they looked down at the Altmer Falrast. “Spying on little old me?” he tutted and smiled.

“Spying on you?” Koyree asked, shocked. “Who are you?”

The old Imperial pushed his long grey hair out of his face and turned to Koyree, “Michael Feere, Knight of The Lamp, pleased tae meet ya.”

“Knight of The Lamp?”

“Aye lass, Mages Guild and all that, remember? Why the surprise?”

“I...Um...Just thought you were a Knight of The Nine for a moment.”

“Hah! Oh, I am that too...Of a sort...And a member of several other associations with names that may contain the words Knight, Mage or Order...And one that also contains the words ‘Tea Rooms’, but we won’t mention that one...” Feere winked.

Koyree laughed.

“Anyhow, I’ve spent more time on these islands in the past sixty years than you have. And I volunteered to stay and watch when the Thalmor idiocy started. How do you think the outside world is getting their information? An eatery on the docks? Best place in the world! Happily, I get to indulge my cooking thing too, which is a bonus.” He smiled. “They’ve been watching me for years, never been able to catch me though.”

Feere looked down at the corpse, then frowned. A sad look came to his face. “Damn...” The Imperial pointed down at Falrast, “He appeared right after...They must have followed Farrada down all those years ago. It’s the only time he came here. Drowned? Drowned my wrinkly ar$e. That $hit Ondolemar probably. Here...” the old man stood and walked behind the eatery counter. He knelt down and pulled out a loose brick from the wall. Feere pulled out an envelope and passed it to Koyree.

Inside were two things, an amulet of Talos and a note, it read –




I’m in trouble. I’m not getting out of this one.
Take care of each other.

Get the bastards for me.

M.




A tear fell onto the note.

“How did you see him?” Koyree turned and indicated the dead Altmer with her head.

“The Wave? Just something your mother and I worked on years ago. Nice to see it worked though.”

“Can you teach me?”

“Probably, but I need to take care of that,” said Feere pointing at the body, “and it’s going to take more effort than it used to. Getting old be damned!”

“I’ll help you. Just teach it me quickly...Please?”

Feere looked at her, sighed and nodded quickly. “Come on.”



---------------------------------------------



A couple of hours later they stood near to the door. “Watch yourself Areldur.” Feere said and he held out his hand for her to shake.

“You need to do that more than me, now you’ve...” she looked out towards the back of the eatery and smiled weakly.

He laughed once and smiled, “Ach, don’t worry about me missy. I’ve completely failed to die so far, I’ve no intention of starting now.”

“That’s what my dad says.”

Feere shrugged, his hand still held out.

Koyree shook the hand, nodded, disappeared into the Shroud and left The Harbour Bites.



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It was still dark, but the horizon was lightening, so Koyree decided it was now or never. The next move was risky anyway, probably impossible during daylight. Skirting around the edges of the docks until she came to The Looking Elsweyr, she stood Shrouded for some minutes watching the boat for signs of life.

The Elsweyr had two keels, held together by the body of the boat. The ship was small enough to be fast, but large enough to hold a crew of ten. This also made it amazingly stable at speed. The Elsweyr could even stay afloat even in the worst roiling seas.

Koyree looked at the deck at the back of the bridge. She walked around the dock, quietly removing the ropes that held the ship to the quay, until she had a better angle to catch all of the length of the ship.

The Shroud consumed much magic to cast initially, but not so much to maintain. So she had no fear of not being able to do what was next.

She held her hands out as the old Knight had shown her, and cast the wave. It travelled the length of the ship and lit up two figures on the deck. They obviously were surprised by being lit up, she could see them looking at themselves. Then she cast two paralyse spells, one in each hand. The two figures toppled over, one fell quietly into the sea, the other onto the deck. Unfortunately these spells took the whole of the remainder of her magic reserves, and she appeared on the dockside. She jumped onto the small ship, ran crouched to where she’d seen the fallen man, found him and pushed him off into the water. There was a splash. Koyree looked about herself. A guard was walking towards the Looking Elsweyr. She dived for the hatch to the bridge and prayed to Mara that there wasn’t anyone waiting in there.

The problem with Impeller engines is that they disliked being turned off, some had been known to never start again. So it was with great joy that when she throttled up the ship, it simply took off. Koyree aimed it south, knowing she would be able to chart a course from any point in the ocean, assuming she could figure out where she was going in the first place.

The door to the rear cabin burst open and an Altmer in armour charged her. She jumped up and met his advance.



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This post has been edited by McBadgere: Apr 13 2012, 08:16 PM

[Andrea]

HEEEEY!

I will try my very best to catch up as quick as possible, but just wanted you to know I am reading (still on the frist page of the thread :/) and I will comment more profoundly when I'm up to date

but what I've read so far? GREEEEAT STUFF!

[mALX]

Hah! Oh, I am that too...Of a sort...And a member of several other associations with names that may contain the words Knight, Mage or Order...And one that also contains the words ‘Tea Rooms’, but we won’t mention that one...” Feere winked.

Koyree laughed.

So did I, Loved the whole interplay here between the two !!! Awesome Write !!

[Acadian]

Wonderful detail and character you build into Feere, even as you add more depth to Koyree. So Feere's a Knight of the Lamp! Woot!

Similarly, you made the Elsweyr jump off the page with its two keels and curious impeller engines. A very special little ship indeed!

And. . . uh oh. . . a cliffhangar at sea!

[McBadgere]

Cheers, mALX, Acadian...Glad Feere made an impression...I really like him... ...

NEW PARTS ALERT!!... ...

A reminder - once more - that the Empire storyline is set in 3E 604...So this is 10 years back from then...

Where we were...

In part 1...Koyree Areldur had escaped the clutches of the Thalmor and, with the aid of a spell learned from an old friend of her parents', had retaken the ship called The Looking Elsweyr...And then a guard had burst through from the rear cabin area...


And now...Part 2...(only one more to go...Till tomorrow then... ...)...







1.12 – Empire. (Interlude, Koyree – ii)







The Looking Elsweyr. Adrift in the ocean. 10 years earlier.






Koyree grew up in the Guildmaster’s house in the grounds of the Mages Guild’s University of The Isles. Her mother being said Guildmaster.

She was always a curious child. Rather predictably, the first spell Koyree learnt was Open lock. From that point on, she’d sneak out of her room at night, and eventually, she read every book in the house’s library. Whether it be story, reference, history or spell. Every book, she read them. Her favourites though, without a doubt, were the spell-books. Over and over she’d read the spells, memorising every word, sneaking down to the basement of the house to practice what she’d learned. Some spells would always be beyond her abilities, but that didn’t mean she didn’t know what the words were. And that was the most important part of it to the young Koyree.

Being the daughter of the head of the University, her presence in the ancient, massive stone building was always accepted, thusly was she able to sneak in plain sight to the practice rooms, and watch as mages went through their drills. Watching, listening to the cadence of the casting words, reviewing stances.

Slowly, nearly every spell in the Guildmaster’s house was learnt. Koyree was a natural at Alteration, the Ease Burden spell-tree was climbed to the very top, and locks would fall before her as she looked at them. Her frustration with Shield spells though, was that they could never be a replacement for the real thing. She imagined being able to turn blades using her bare hands, with no consequences.

Sadly, it was the deep cut on her arm that finally gave Koyree away.

Her mother was furious at herself for not paying enough attention, and furious at Koyree for showing her up. So then, at great expense, Cestra Areldur had all the locks changed. The magic impervious Nul-Iron, used for prison manacles, locks and other magic prevention areas was employed throughout the house and university. All to stop one curious 12 year old from getting around.

So that was when Koyree learned to pick locks.

But now, she had to use the invisibility she’d learned, to watch everywhere, and get caught by the Mysticism department. It wasn’t until she’d eventually managed to fashion herself an unbreakable lockpick that she finally got into the Forbidden Section of the university library. And so, it was actually Koyree Areldur that was the first person in the Summerset Isles to master the Shroud spell.

Where the spell-book had come from, Koyree couldn’t tell, but if felt strange, not entirely solid somehow, as if it belonged somewhere else; to some other realm. It had the picture of a sinister, bearded man - seemingly with three faces - on the front of it, but other than that, she had no way of knowing.

So when, eventually it was time for her to enrol in the University of The Isles, Koyree grew bored. She did her time, she learned everything there was to learn and – unsurprisingly – graduated practically the highest ever scoring pupil there.

But she was restless.

Her father had been a constant in her life, although his job meant that he could go away at any time, he’d managed to swing his assignments so that he was nearly always at home to see her.

The times Koyree would go to sea on a trip were the happiest she could imagine being. Her mother nearly always complained, but Koyree didn’t care. The sea, Koyree had decided was where her true future lay.

So, after a few good years of toil in the Mages Guild, and as a great disappointment to her mother, Koyree joined the Altmer Navy.

In much the same pattern as her childhood, Koyree learned everything she could, as fast as she could, and so became the youngest Altmer to hold the rank of Commodore. That all the Fleet Admirals within the Fleets were still alive was the only thing that prevented her advancing more.

So, for something new to learn, she had had the Fourth Fleet’s Chief of Fleet Security teach her every fighting style that was known to him.



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Three weeks after the fight on the boat, Koyree was a mess.

Some of the instruments on the bridge had been broken by the Thalmor while the battle was joined, one of which was the impeller control. Koyree had killed the man and thrown his body overboard, but had been left with the problem of a boat, headed south and full speed and no way of stopping it. She didn’t want to stop the boat too close to land – even if she figured out how to do it - but neither did she want to head out into the deep ocean.

In the end, Koyree had headed down into the lowest deck and simply turned the engines off. This had caused several unforeseen problems for Koyree. She now had no power to speak of for lights, water purification, cooking.

Koyree had sighed and just thought about all those survival books she’d read.

She realised quickly that the prevailing currents were taking her south-west into the ocean anyway, so Koyree had hoped that a passing ship might see her. Sadly, no ships were ever seen.

Having exhausted the supplies aboard the vessel, she’d started employing the survival techniques. Jury-rigging the right components, she made a condenser, heating it up using magic to separate the water from the salt; Koyree very quickly learned the art of diving for fish, her having learnt Breathe Underwater many years earlier. The young Areldur would then cook the fish with magic, boiling it in some of the fresh water she’d condensed.

She’d searched the boat - again - for anything to take her mind of things. The ship held enough cabins for a crew of ten, but all that she found were a few trinkets, a few books, but nothing of any real help.

Koyree had found an amulet of Julianos amongst one of the crew’s things. She’d decided to wear it, along with her own amulet of Mara and the Talos one that Feere had given her, what felt like a lifetime ago.

So it was that three mournful and agonizing weeks later, Koyree sat in her shirt and knickers on the bridge of the Elsweyr, hallucinating, delirious and sick from having eaten the wrong type of fish.



---------------------------------



“Cure Poison is a thought and deed spell Koyree, you know that. Thought requires focus, deed requires strength. You have neither Koyree? Wake up!” Said a grotesquely caricatured version of her mother from the seat opposite.

Koyree gripped the three amulets tightly, closed her eyes and said between weepings. “Lady Mara...Please spare me, my life...I must...Lord Talos...Grant me the strength to succeed...Gnnnah!!...Great Julianos, please grant me the knowledge of the word...What is the kriffing word dammit?!!...AAAAAHHH!!!...

The apothecary’s supply of Cure Poison potion had been used and had not yet been replaced, as Koyree had found when she’d realised what she’d done - her dire problem - and rushed back through the cabin to find it. By the time she’d tried to call the spell, the poison was already scrambling her focus and Koyree had failed to cast it. She’d only just managed to drag herself back to the bridge, to where she sat now, minutes later.

She opened her eyes and her “mother” had gone.

To be replaced by a small mole-ish man in mages robes, holding a book in fingerless-gloved hands.

“Oh no...”

“Hand waving, Koyree, is for nobles, children and pathetic street conjurers. All spells are either thought, word or deed. Cure poison is a thought and deed spell. But before it becomes thought it must be word. What is that word Koyree? WHAT IS THAT WORD KOYREE?”

Koyree wept and shouted, “I DON’T KNOW!! I DON’T KNOW!! AAAAARGH!!!”

She cried as she felt her body dying. Slowly her eyes closed, she stopped weeping.

Then.

She stopped.



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The Looking Elsweyr shook to the sound of a giant blaring horn.

“BYARIICH!!!” shouted Koyree as she sat up; Then she screamed as the poison was ripped from her body by the blue magicks that swirled around her.

Still weak from the ravages the fish’s poison had inflicted on her body, Koyree leaned on the bridge console and looked out of the window.

Her jaw dropped.

She squinted at what was outside, then she wailed as the horn sounded again and almost burst her heart with the sheer volume.

Koyree tried to stand, but fell out of her seat. Hand over hand she dragged herself to the ladder that led up to the deck. With strength she hadn’t remembered calling, she pulled herself upwards.

She fell out of the hatchway, her arm stretched out to arrest her fall. She caught sight of the three pendants, their leather laces wrapped around her hand. Frowning, she stood again and walked out to the middle of the deck.

The gentle rocking of the Elsweyr from the swell of the giant monster’s passing was proof that this was no hallucination, but how else to explain what she was seeing?

From where Koyree was she had no clue as to how wide the...Ship was, but it was long. It appeared as though someone had just decided to pick up a city and sail into the sea.

Spaced out along the side, far above the waterline, there were four giant towers of gleaming white, topped with a dome of a green colour. From the side of three of these, she could see what looked to be covered bridges, from one side to the other, rising to a point in the middle, which seemed to make them seem like carved roof apexes.

From the water, the body flared out at a dizzying angle. From the top of this flaring, far above, most of the length of the ship was several stories tall, Koyree could tell from the windows she could see. Variations in the height made it feel like she was looking at a cathedral to Neptirnos, Steward of the sea and her husband Persardion. An idea reinforced by the massive tower that dominated the back third of the massive ship. Whatever the structure was made of, the whole ship sat perfectly on the sea.

Koyree could see intricate decorative carvings over parts of the ship, oddly beautiful and unnerving at the same time. Well, it added to the general air of disquiet.

A gentle hum was, the only sound the engines made as it passed. Almost quieter than the hiss its passage through the water was making.

The colour of the ship was beautiful though, all brasses, coppers, greens, whites and...Koyree’s eyes widened - Dwemer.

The bellowing horn shouted again and Koyree dropped to her knees and wailed with her hands over her ears.

Koyree opened her eyes and looked up at the side of the Dwemer ship. A plaque with letters at least as tall as a Skyrim Giant, proclaimed the ship’s name.

Mriizeleft.

Dwemer Great-ship or City-ship whichever it was, the lost Dwemer ship, doomed to wander the waters for eternity.

Legend or ghost story made real in front of her. Just as it was for her father years earlier.

Oh daddy. The agonized thought came. Koyree dragged herself to the side of the Elsweyr. She reached her hand out as if to try and touch the Dwemer ship.

The horn sounded again. Koyree squealed, fainted and fell forward towards the waiting sea.



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This post has been edited by McBadgere: Apr 14 2012, 02:27 PM

[Colonel Mustard]

Great stuff; the hallucinations were fun and it was good to see one of your characters in a tight, near-death spot there (from a purely academic viewpoint, mind. I didn't actively want her to die, just to clarify). Also, the description of the Mriezeleft was excellent, and a wonderfully evocative read.

Excellent stuff.

[Acadian]

Yikes! From one cliffie in the last episode as she turned to meet a hostile Altmer, to another in this one as the sea rises to meet her!

I really enjoyed the glimpses into Koryee’s past. The Nul-Iron was very clever.

Yes, must exercise care picking fish and mushrooms.

Woot! A Dwemer aircraft carrier!

[Darkness Eternal]

These time jumping things is hard to handle, maybe because I'm horrible with math. Koyree strikes me as a sneaky type. Obviously, she is. The way she sneaks from her room and opens locks just screams thief. Add a bit of invisibility here and there and you might have get a kickass assassin-like fighter. Some new development to her, I see.

Dwemer technology is amazing. True geniuses of their time. "Ghost" Dwarven ships ftw! And the hallucinations were cool, and very intriguing. It's not easy being lost at sea when you can only eat bad fish. Good read, overall. As always, my friend. I will be around, stalking and skulking.

[McBadgere]

Mustard...Cheers matey!!...Glad you enjoyed the near death of a character... ...I'm glad the Mriizeleft came across well...I was worried it wouldn't seem all that grand... ...

Acadian...Yep, another cliffhanger...There was going to be the one earlier, just before the ship turned up...But the next part became a damned sight longer so...Still, cheers very much...Glad you're enjoying it...Ta very much...

DE!!...Yes, it's amazing how many of my characters could have been so very good at being very evil... ...Fair enough, stalk and skulk to your heart's content!!...And do so with my grateful thanks... ...I'm not sure how much earlier you were reading, but I had another character called Galasafon, who was pretty much exactly as you described...There's a major thing coming for him btw (for the rest of you that may or may not be interested )...Just as soon as I flatten the Thalmor at Anvil...



Reet...NEW PARTS ALERT!!...

Koyree part three!!...

Well...I say Koyree... ...

Firstly though...A giant introduction by me...I thangyore....


----------------


A few notes here before I get to the story...

First, thank you for not telling me off about posting so much, so fast...Is appreciated, and it’s unlikely to happen again...Probably... ...

Second, There are things, in the last section of the story that I’m likely to get...Frowned at for...At the very least...Well, in my defence...They are absolutely in keeping with my version of the world...And no, when people can shoot fire out of their hands there will be no need of such things on land...It’s just the idea of taking on a ship without something like...Ship-taking-on-things...Plus, it’s kinda come from something Grits said ages ago...Yes, it’s all Grits’ fault...*Grins mischeviously*...

Third...I introduce a new location in this story, it’s called Ynys Llan-Y-Naw...Which is welsh for Island of the Church of The Nine...If you would look at this map please? ...There is an island west of Anvil, see it? Well other maps say it's called Stirk...There is no Lore associated with said place... Well, there is now...The Knights have bought it and populated it with many things...All may eventually become clear...But this is - as well as New Kvatch and wherever else I decide - their place now...

Pronounciation lesson!!!...Heh... ...

Ynys...Sounds like Um and hiss without the H, so it’s un-hiss = Ynys...

Llan...You know Sid the Sloth from Ice Age? Well he has a lateral lisp, that is why he does that LL thing, “Hello, I’m Llid de Llofth.” Sort of thing...Well, that’s the LL bit in llan...the an is and without the d...So it’s Llid and = Llan...

Y (and this is a note to all you English out there...) Y...Is like Uh...Not Why...Uh = Y

Naw...Is the same as the English word now...Not Norrr...As in Quick Draw McGraw...Now = Naw...

To recap....Un-hiss Llidand uh now...Ynys Llan-y-Naw...
Un iss Ll an uh now


Thank you for your time... ...



To recap, part one had Koyree escape from the Thalmor onto The Looking Elsweyr, Part 2 found us discovering that she was adrift and in desperate straits, having eaten a fish she shouldn’t have and had an encounter with the lost Dwemer ship, the Mriizeleft...

As ever, this Empire storyline is set in 3E 604 and this happens 10 years before that...



And now...Part 3...Good luck...







1.12 – Empire. (Interlude, Koyree – III)






The Looking Elsweyr. Adrift in the Ocean. 10 Years Earlier.







Two hands belonging to separate people grabbed the back of the Altmer girl’s shirt.

“Whoa there missy.” Said a bearded man, as the pair dragged her away from the edge and lay the girl down on the deck.

“Good catch Septim.” Said the copper-haired lady with him.

“Lady Mara!” Tiber inclined his head, “always a pleasure to see you, my dear.” He beamed.

Mara smiled back and touched Septim’s upper arm in friendly greeting, then she frowned and looked back down. “Now who are you my dear girly?”

Septim stood and took in the marvel of the ship. “Dear...Us. That is a big ship. I once tried to catch it, you know?” he turned and looked down at Mara, she shook her head, “Yes, I had her in my sights and then the most bizarre crosswind came along and she simply vanished.” He shook his head. “Beautiful.”

Tiber Septim was the embodiment of the truism that the Legend is always bigger than the Man. Despite the massively proportioned statues that are dotted around the Empire, Septim was actually of average height and build, with close cropped, grey hair and beard. The deeds of strength coming due to the Alteration magicks he’d employed, much like Knights down the years. He was currently sporting, dark trousers tied with what appeared to be a scarf, the ends dangling from one hip, a loose fitting white shirt and leather waistcoat. Leather bracers and boots completed the dashing appearance.

“Going for the pirate look Septim?” asked Mara, while he was looking at the Mriizeleft.

Septim grinned and turned back with raised eyebrow. “And you the rugged adventurer, it seems.” He said of Mara’s loose fitting light brown trousers, loose green shirt covered by an armoured light leather waistcoat. Her copper bracers and Orcish boots seeming a little ostentatious.

“Well, you move with the times don’t you, my dear Tiber.” She answered with a smile of her own. Mara looked back down at the girl. “I know she’s got these amulets, but how did she call us both here? That takes some power, this girl’s practically dead.”

“It wasn’t her.” Said a new voice coming up from below decks. A small man in a brown suit came walking up the ladder carrying a plate with the remains of some fish on it.

“Julianos! Excellent! Nice to see you old boy.”

“Septim.” he replied and nodded in greeting. He then walked to the side of the ship and threw the plate in the sea.

“Three of us?..So who did then?” asked Mara.

Julianos just gestured by tilting his head towards the retreating Mriizeleft.

“It did?” Septim’s head whipped around to look at the ship. “How?”

“Well...It’s complicated.” Said Mara.

“Still, there may be hope for...It...After all.” Julianos looked down at the Altmer. “Wonder what makes you so important?..I’m going to go find out. Can you keep her alive until I return?” He asked Mara.

“That all depends on how long you are doesn’t it?” the female divine said and gripped the girl’s arm.

Julianos stared levelly at Mara, then he turned on his heel and walked to the ladder and disappeared below decks.



---------------------------------------------------------------------------




“Well, we seem to have some time before he comes back...And I do so love a good story.” Said Tiber.

Mara sighed. “Yes, it looks like I’m not going anywhere for shortie’s while.” She looked at the departing Mriizeleft. “That is the greatest example of why you should never piss Zenithar off.”

“Hah! Really? Good grief. How so?”

“Well, what’s in there, caused all the Dwemer to disappear.”

“Good Aetherius! What happened?”

“Many bad things. That man, well, thing, in there,” Mara pointed, “tried to make himself into a God and instead caused the destruction of his people. From what I’ve gathered – I wasn’t really involved...Boys and their toys and all that. It built a new power source, an orb of some sort.

“Julianos told Zenithar that his ‘House’ had warned of this new power’s unstable nature, but he was – as usual – ignored. Something about pulling it through rents, tears in universes or something. Anyways, the cities had them in; People had stuff linked to the orbs’ power grid. You can guess the rest. Something went wrong with the orbs. People vanished all at once, whole cities disappeared. They just vanished entirely, only holes in the ground to say something was ever there.” Mara sighed again and shook her head.

“Zenithar – whose people they were, hence the technology – decided to, according to Kynareth, teach it,” Mara pointed at the ship, “a lesson in humility, if it was the last thing Zenithar did. So the Great Designer of the Dwemer that called hisself Mrii, was granted immortality-”

“Nooo.” Said a stunned Septim.

“And then,” continued Mara, “bonded to the controls of the Great-ship that he loved the most. His most fervent followers doomed to wander the halls of the thing as slaves to keep the thing going. They, you’ll notice, managed to avoid everything of course.” Mara sighed and shook her head, “So now...Cursed to pass over every corner of the seas once, for every year that any one Dwemer would have lived for, had they not...disappeared. And if Mrii ever finishes his penance for the first one, then the years the next person would have had, start, until the entire race is atoned for.

“And of course, the one wrinkle in the plan is that the ship keeps...Ah...Doing that.” Mara smirked with one side of her mouth.

Tiber turned his head to see that the ship had vanished.

“Well I never!” he turned back to look at Mara, “It’s always the quiet ones.” He raised his eyebrow and grinned. “I’d best lay off the ribbing!”

Mara laughed once and looked down at the girl. “She’s fading beyond even me. Better be quick Julianos. I may only have one choice for this.”

“There’s always two choices Mara.” Septim said.

Mara nodded. “If you say so.”



----------------------------------------------------------------------



Julianos walked through the doors to the Nirn-Sphere room. The ‘star’ orrery that displayed the soul energy of any person, animal or otherwise on Nirn.

The vivid blue of the giant super-welkynd projection reflecting in his eyes as he walked towards his towering Androform daughter, Arrai. Ten feet of Rose-white marble-esque element and blue armour. One of the most powerful beings on the planet, along with her brother Myrrl and sister Neerlah.

“Father!” she called out.

“Arrai.” He replied with a smile.

“Did all go well? You were called away with quite the pull weren’t you?”

“Yes, bit of a surprise. You were watching?”

“Of course.”

“It was the Mriizeleft.”

“Ah, this explains much. I couldn’t tell. I just saw where you were.”

Julianos nodded. “I need to know who I was with.”

“Which?”

“What?”

“Which who you were with.”

Julianos pinched the bridge of his nose. “Arrai,” he started.

“Septim, Mara-”

“The girl!..The Altmer. Who is she?”

Arrai tilted her head and then manipulated the Nirn-Sphere until it showed just three stars. One, a giant copper coloured one was identified by the scrawl beside it as being the Divine Mara; the second, a giant red star was Tiber Septim; the third, much smaller star was the welkynd’s blue colour. Arrai focused in on the writing.

Julianos sighed. What in...Our name are you doing all the way out there? He thought to himself and then frowned as more scrawl appeared. Ah, the Knights again. More scrawl.

“What in blazes are you doing Arkay?”

“Father?”

“Sorry Arrai, just thinking out loud. It seems that this thing of Arkay’s is throwing too many loose pieces onto the board.” Julianos sighed and frowned again. “Thank you Arrai.”

“What now?” the Androform asked.

“Now, we do the obvious. Save the girl, send her to help. It would be rude to ignore Mrii’s summons or – presumably – plea.

“Could you ask Myrrl to join us on the boat?” Julianos asked and turned to leave.

“Of course. Farewell Father,” Arrai said to her retreating creator. “Love you.”

Julianos turned back, smiled and said, “Love you too.”

Then he left.



----------------------------------------------------------------------



There was a hum, a shimmer, and Myrrl appeared on the deck of the Looking Elsweyr, with his pure white marble-esque body, gleaming in the sunshine. The blue-black of his skull-like head, his chest-piece, gloved hand and boot armour standing out more vividly in the bright glare.

“Tiber Septim! As I live...Good to see you!” Myrrl declared and came over to clasp Septim’s shoulders.

“Myrrl old boy! A fine day when you’re around. Always. How‘ve you been?”

“Well, my old friend. I’ve been well.”

Myrrl looked down at the girl and Mara. “Lady Mara.” He nodded his greeting.

“Myrrl.” She replied and then turned back to the Altmer. “I can’t hold this much longer Septim, she’s going.”

“What do you mean?” asked the Julianos as he returned to the deck.

“Father! Good to see you.” Said Myrrl.

Julianos smiled at his son, patted his arm and turned to Mara.

She sighed and answered, “There’s only one way to save her now. I knew you’d be too long.”

Julianos frowned. “Her name is Koyree Areldur. Her father’s cousin is Marn Areldur of the Knights. For some reason Mrii,” Julianos gestured outward, “thought her important enough to risk dragging us here.” He paused, sighed and then said – “Do it.”

“Without telling her?” said Myrrl.

“She’s Altmer, she’s young, so by the time she realises something’s different...” Julianos shrugged.

Mara sighed, closed her eyes and pushed life back into Koyree. Altering the Altmer’s constituents until they no longer aged; Repairing damage; Altering signals, stopping others entirely.

“We’ve really got to stop this making everyone immortal thing.” Said Tiber, “We’ll be overrun with them soon.” He smiled.

“What now?” asked Myrrl.

Julianos looked at Mara. “So which one of us Calls her? I saw her history, she could be any of ours. All of ours.”

“All?”

Julianos nodded.

Tiber sighed, “Time was when we made people walk the Pilgrim’s Way. Now we stand in the middle of the ocean with some random girl...” he shook his head.

“There’s been stranger places.” Julianos looked up at Myrrl.

“Anyway, can that be done? Us all Calling at once?” asked Septim.

“It has before.”

Mara nodded. “She’ll have a hell of a headache when she wakes up.” She said.

Julianos crouched down near the prone girl.

“Shall we?”



-------------------------------------------------------



“May I ask why I’m here?” asked Myrrl, a short time later, “as much as I appreciate the visit, I’m assuming I’m not here for my charm and good looks.”

Julianos rubbed his temples and blinked his eyes. Walking up to his son, he looked up, squinting. “How far do you think you can transport these? The ship and the girl?” he asked.

“Where were you sending her?”

“That Ynys place of the Knights’, I think J’Drell’s there at the moment isn’t he?”

Myrrl nodded once.

“Then it was a good choice.” Julianos smiled. There was a pause, “So?”

Myrrl made the noise of a sigh. “The girl, you could specify which bed in the Hospitalier temple you wanted; The ship, certainly within sight of the island...Both together?..There is a limit, but I will quite happily take it there for you, father. That is the best I can do. I apologise father, I wish I could do more.”

Julianos shook his head, “I am grateful for anything you can do Myrrl. Akatosh is the only one of us that can move things this small about.” The small Divine shrugged.

“I understand father. I will do what I can.”

Julianos patted his son’s arm again.



---------------------------------------------------------



“If we’re done here?” said Mara.

Julianos nodded.

Mara turned to Tiber, hugged him and said, “Always a pleasure Septim, hopefully see you soon.”

“I will wish for naught else my dear Mara!” replied Tiber and hugged her back.

Mara laughed, broke the embrace and turned back to face the others.

“Myrrl, you need to be sure to ask the Knights to have Marn Areldur there when she wakes up.” She pointed down to the girl. “It’ll be enough of a shock to be there in the first place, having a friendly face might help.”

Mara looked at the small Divine.

“Julianos.” She nodded and vanished.

Julianos sighed and shook his head. “Women!” Julianos walked to Septim and shook his hand, “Thank you Tiber. Always a pleasure. I hope it’s soon that we meet again.”

“As do I, my friend.”

“Myrrl, I will see you soon.”

“A joy to be sure, father!”

“Farewell.” Julianos said with a wave, and disappeared below decks.



------------------------------------------------------------------



“Myrrl.” Tiber said with a questioning tone.

“Yeeesss?” If Myrrl had eyebrows, one would be raised.

“Could you get me into the Mriizeleft? I can’t find it, find how to get in.”

Myrrl paused a short while, then, “The answer to that is both yes and no. No I can’t simply put you on the ship. Zenithar’s curse makes it not of this plane, so that makes it impossible to get to, even for us.” Meaning the Androforms and their teleport ability, “But...Yes I can get you in, but only from the inside.”

“The inside?”

“And I don’t think I could do it alone, I would need to connect with my sisters to do it...But if we could predict where the Mriizeleft will appear next, and if we could appear at the same place at the same time...” Myrrl shrugged.

“That sounds dangerous.”

“Yes, yes it does.” Said Myrrl, joyfully.

“You want to go on a...Ghost hunt?” asked Septim.

“Sadly, I have duties at present. However, when they are concluded, I shall be all yours Lord Septim.”

“A joy my friend! Find me when you’re done then?”

“I shall ask my sister Arrai for your whereabouts and shall be there too.” Myrrl bowed. “Oh, one more moment of your time Lord Septim?”

“Of course, what can I do?”

“In my experience, I have seen that women waking up surrounded by Knights so dressed,” Myrrl pointed to Koyree’s being in a shirt that was buttoned only in the middle and her knickers, “tend to be unimpressed by their situation.”

“You want me to dress her?” Septim asked with surprise.

Myrrl shrugged.

“Well, it’s been a while.” Tiber said, and walked off towards the below decks ladder repeatedly saying, “I was a Gentleman, I was a Gentleman.”

Myrrl looked out at the sea as he waited.



------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



KNV-H. Sir James Thedret. 20 miles off Ynys Llan-y-Naw.



Captain Sir Arion Thedret stared out through the windows of his bridge with a feeling of pride. The honour and joy at being Captain of the ship that bore the name of his ancestor was without measure. The fact that the ship was also one of the most deadly on the sea, Arion believed would have pleased said ancestor no end.

Nearly nine hundred feet long and over a hundred wide, the Hound-class Sir James Thedret was as much a statement of power as to true purpose, but with its three giant Tri-Alt’casters, two forward of the bridge tower and one behind. Coupled with the four much smaller Alt’casters, two on each side of the bridge, the Thedret was more than able to back said statements up. Their long barrels full of eldritch and complex magicks capable of delivering their terror of ice or fire, miles distant.

The newer, type-5 giant impellers that the AQuired-Tech Division of the Knights’ had developed, made it almost as fast in a straight line as some of the runabouts. Their Knimidium powerplants making light work of all the strain.

Arion mused that over the past century or so, the Knights of The Nine had been quietly developing theirs and the Cyrodiilian navies to the point where there was nothing on Nirn to equal them. They had also done this in as much secrecy as was possible. The only time any of the neighbouring countries saw a new ship, was when it was ready. And then they grew concerned. The Cyrodillian Navy yard at Narford, an island off the southern coast of Cyrodiil, was bristling with ships that the wrights on Ynys had built for them.

As much as the Knights had transformed the Imperial Legion, so to they had also changed the Imperial Navy beyond all recognition. However, even they paled in comparison with the Knights’ Navy – or SeaKnights as they had taken to calling themselves.

So here we are, thought Arion, a hand on his greying, bearded chin and a smile playing on his handsome Redguard features, one of the largest Knights of The Nine Vessels sailing out on patrol, from the Naval yard of Knightport, and the Island of The Church of The Nine. What could go wrong?

The two front Tri-Alt’casters suddenly twisted portside. Arion walked quickly to the windows.

A small ship – Altmer by the looks of it – had simply appeared out of nowhere. A giant figure stood up on the deck and waved its hand.

Arion sighed, he knew all about the Androform.

“Stand down.” He said to the bridge crew, and then turned to look out at the ship, “It’s Myrrl.”

There was a squeal from one of the female crew. Arion spun around and almost let out a cry of alarm himself, as he came face to stomach with Myrrl.

Myrrl put a hand on Thedret’s shoulder and the Redguard looked up.

“Forgive me, Captain, if I did not put my hand to you, you wouldn’t understand me.”

“Oh,” The Captain answered with a degree of trepidation and the tiniest crack in his voice, “No, that’s fine.”

“In a tale far too complicated to explain, the ship and the young lady aboard need taking to Ynys immediately. Her name is Koyree Areldur.”

“Areldur?!”

“Indeed. She is to be attended to by your Admiral. The Divine Mara has asked that it be done.”

Arion bowed his head.

“She is also to meet the Commander, she has been Called.”

“Very well. I shall have the ship taken aboard immediately, Lord Myrrl.”

“Lord? Hah! No, you do me too much honour, just Myrrl will do, Captain?”

“Thedret, Arion Thedret.”

“Thedret?! A fine and venerable name to be sure! Good to meet you Captain Thedret! Sadly, I must away. Farewell for now venerable Captain.”

Arion bowed again.

Myrrl vanished.



-------------------------------------------------------------------------



The party that boarded The Looking Elsweyr included a General from New Kvatch, that had been added to the crew for the James Thedret’s current patrol.

He jumped over to the vessel and crouched down to look closer at the girl.

“Oooh, hello prettiness.” Said Caerellin. “Looking forward to training with you.” He grinned. The Bosmer’s eyes flashed as he brought forth his Blessing of Julianos. The grin disappeared as he saw the three Divine imprints swirling around each other inside the Altmer.

“Something wrong General?” asked one of the Knights that had come over with him.

“Hmmm...Not sure...Maybe.” Caerellin stood up. “Think I’ll leave this one for J’Drell.”

Caerellin picked Koyree up and carried her over to the second craft.

The remainder of the crew worked on recovering The Looking Elsweyr.



----------------------------------------------------



Caerellin put Koyree down in one of the Hospitalier rooms of the Thedret and sat at her side, staring at her until they returned to Ynys Llan-y-Naw.

Then he carried her all the way to Knightshill,

And the Knights of The Nine.



---------------------------------------------------------------------------
---------------------------------------------------------------------------




*NOTE...Just for the record, I do believe that there is no need for guns or cannons on land in the games...As everyone keeps saying, when you can shoot a fireball miles away, why do you need them?..They’re boring as far as the ES goes...

I thought long and hard about how they work before I ever put them down on...“Paper”...So I didn’t do this just for the sake of it...I even “know” how they work...I think the Alt’Casters work well in this particular universe...Mine aren’t technically cannons...They’re more in keeping with suped-up Frost Cannons you get in the Ayelid ruins...

I really hope they haven’t put some of you off...

Cheers...

Rob...

This post has been edited by McBadgere: Apr 15 2012, 12:21 PM

[Colonel Mustard]

Personally, I have no issue with the cannon idea; it makes sense in a lot of ways, and the manner in which you've made them fits quite neatly within the Elder Scrolls'...

*Dons sunglasses*

Canon.






I WILL NOT APOLOGISE!!!

[Acadian]

A Divine boat party with half nekked Altmeri lass!

For a moment I thought we were going to get a tour of the Mizzlefritz. But the Thedret was almost as cool. Heh, I can see some nautically inclined mages bringing elemental damage staves aboard and mounting them to a turret. . . “Bigger! Think bigger,” yells the chief engineer. “This damn ship yer fittin’ them things to? Well, she be over 900 feet long!” I think you gave a fine feel to your ‘cannons’ that fits the world of your story.

[Athynae]

Just want to say for now
I LOVE KOYREE......She reminds me of someone,childhood curiosity and all that.

More later my friend.

Ok, now it's later (morning edit)

The wonderful imagery of this part about Koyree is great. I had to smile through the way you described her youth and couldn't help but think of Thyna, both of them striving to be all that they could possibly be in their particular areas to the point of obsession-and causing a bit of trouble in the process. Makes me smile.

Her meeting of and with Feere was an eyebrow lifter, finding friends in the oddest of places and the way he discovered her was tremendously insightful of you.

Courageous the way she took the Looking Elysweyr from the Thalmor, gotta love a woman with guts. Oopsie on the fish though, like a bad dose of ...well never mind, that's another story.

And then the Miz', what a ship!!!! Amazing! And then to find out it was the ship that called Septim, Mara and Julianos, not only an amazing piece of Dwemer tech but 'good' too, nice.

There were many parts that made me laugh, and some that made me almost wipe tears. I really liked this story about the Areldur child.

Oh, stop blaming poor Grits for everything...it was a good idea all on its own, I agree with the Col. I mean I'm no authority on this stuff except for what I have read and asea they need something that reaches far beyond hand to hand or even a bow so....my two cents, pence, whatever it is wherever you are.

This post has been edited by Athynae: Apr 16 2012, 11:51 AM

[Grits]

Yes, it’s all Grits’ fault...*Grins mischeviously*...

Ha! This is what I get for falling behind!

I was enjoying another wonderful adventure with Koyree, and then the Mriizeleft sailed along and stunned my brain into silence. That. Was. Awesome!!

I like that Koyree who has fed her mind with everything she encounters is brought down by a poorly chosen dinner.

“We’ve really got to stop this making everyone immortal thing.” Said Tiber, “We’ll be overrun with them soon.” He smiled.

I was thinking the same thing. You Divines are making this into a habit!

Tiber sighed, “Time was when we made people walk the Pilgrim’s Way. Now we stand in the middle of the ocean with some random girl...” he shook his head.

I didn’t even have time to recover from the last one! Tiber was priceless throughout. It was great fun to read the whole Koyree Interlude together. She is an intriguing character, and I always love it when some Divines show up.


Oh, and thanks for the pronunciation lesson! I was saying it all wrong, except for spitting out the sides on the Ll. Sprained tongue avoided. Now, can you describe how to say “Llechwen”?

[McBadgere]

NEW PARTS ALERT...Even when we thought there was going to be none for a while... ...


Thank yous...

Mustard - Cheers matey...And I thank you for the nod towards the "cannons"...

Acadian - Again, thank you for being...Ahem...On board with the cannon idea... ...No, no tour for the Marie Celeste...Hang on...Mriizeleft, just yet... ...

Athynae - Thank you for all that...Means a lot...*Bows head*...Thankee... ...

Grits - So glad the Mriizeleft worked for you...I keep trying to think what the hells I'm gonna do when it comes time to actually write the Ghost Hunt chapters... ...Many thanks as ever...So glad the Divines get the smiles still... ...



So, where we were...Nol Areldur, Siar Eremnor and Jeck Harramaund returned to the Summerset Isle's southern city, Dusk in order to see about retaking the Altmer nation from the Thalmor...As you do...They, along with Nol's daughter Koyree were captured by the Thalmor Justicar Ondolemar. Koyree cast her Shroud spell and escaped. This is what happened next...


The Empire story is set in 3E 604, this is 10 years earlier...Got it?... ...


*EDIT: The Elder Scrolls Wiki has the description of Alinor as a city of Insect Wings and...Dandelion Seeds or something...Well...Surprisingly enough...Not having that...Bit, too odd for me...So anyways...Enjoy!!...Thank you...Please?... ...







1.12 – Empire (pt. 5 – Know Thine Enemy – iii)









10 years ago. The road to Alinor, Summerset Isles.







At some point during the early stages of the carriage-ride, Nol had fallen asleep. Now, as he woke and glanced about him, the day had become sunny and the heat oppressive. Bottles of water had been provided – as a surprise – by the Thalmor. The Overlord, it seemed, had ordered that Areldur and company be treated well.

Areldur looked at the other two in the nicely liveried, comfortably upholstered and equipped, but most definitely locked carriage. Harramaund was lying across the seating opposite. Several empty water bottles, a testament to his continuing recovery from the days of drinking; And Eremnor was looking out, through the large paned windows at the countryside, presumably wondering as much as Areldur, whether they would ever see the sea again.

Nol put his head to the pane next to him, in an effort to see behind, as they were at that point making a sweeping, gradual turn. Unfortunately the pace was such that the buildings in the distance could only have been West Checkpoint. Areldur sighed.

“The view’s nicer this side, want to swap?” asked Eremnor.

Nol smiled at his friend but then shook his head.

Siar looked at Areldur, and said, “She’ll be fine. She’s too much like you to need worrying about.”

Nol raised his eyebrows and looked exaggeratedly about the carriage with his eyes.

Eremnor laughed once and replied, “Point taken. She’ll be fine, Nol.” and he gripped Areldur’s forearm.

Areldur nodded and turned his eyes out to the slowly passing scenery.



-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



The Tarsuschii Mountain range behind Dusk is just one part of the chain that went snake-like through the main Isle, from the eastern edge, down to a southern point, halfway between Dusk and Sunhold, they then made – more or less straight northwest – towards Alinor. At a point nearer to the city, the range circles north around Alinor and, much like the other two coasts, it leaves the smallest gap which the North Highway utilises to go out of the Capitol in that direction. Finally, the range hugs the coast northeast again, finally crossing the country, until reaching the massive Eton-Nir with its glorious ancient city of Cloudrest atop it. The mountains then drop off as if whichever of the Divines had created this particular island had gotten bored, having finally made the largest mountain.



------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



The road to Sunhold stayed close to the coast, the smell of the salt air reminding them how tantalisingly close to freedom they were. They reached Sunhold after nightfall, and spent a few hours of sleep in an old fort that dated back to the days of Tiber Septim’s conquest of the Isles.

Next morning, before the sun looked over the horizon they were back on the main road, headed northwest. The Tarulsishuk Mountains seeming to creep back towards them as the road headed straight towards Alinor.

The three men looked out of the seaward windows to try and catch a last glimpse of the sea before Alinor and the Overlord.

Jeck said “What do you think he’s gonna do with us?”

Nol shrugged and sat back down.

Siar looked at Nol and frowned. He sighed and answered. “Well, it’s possible he wants to kill us himself, or maybe he just wants to try and convert us. Tcheet’s unlikely to know why Miitr really sent us away. As far as we know, he could just think we were just out there following the Oversaar’s official orders.”

“Yeah,” answered Harramaund, obviously unconvinced, “but from what you said, he’s got at least four search teams unaccounted for. Even the least paranoid person would pause to start wondering about that.”

There was a pause, and then Siar said, “We all knew we should have stayed away, shouldn’t we?”

Jeck nodded his agreement,

“And yet we all came back on time. We don’t know how much that will count towards anything. People with stuff to hide don’t generally put their faces in front of the homicidal maniac rulers.”

“Well, we’ve got a few hours before we find out eh? Anyone bring a pack of cards?” asked Jeck.

Nol looked at him with no emotion, turned his head away and looked up at the Tarulsishuk Mountains.



----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



The mountain ranges were virtually impossible to get up for two reasons.

One was that on only a few had anything resembling a road been able to be built. And even then, there seemed to be no way to the summits. Switchback trails lead up and over some of the lesser troughs between the peaks.

How the cities atop some of the highest mountains had been built had quietly baffled the greatest academics on the Isles for a great many years. But even from the plains it was obvious who could claim at least two of the types of city.

Both the Dwemer and the Ayelids had been able to build cities on the top of several peaks along the range. A third distinctive and separate type of architecture could be seen in a few, suggesting that another race had reached the summits through whatever means. Great, massive pyramids at one end of each of these other cities summiting the massifs, suggested possible attempts at reaching further into the heavens. No one knew.

One idea of how these cities of towers, massive statues and ziggurats came to be created, was by using great, vast underground tunnels in each of the mountains, winding their way up inside to the tops. These had the cities built from the inside outwards. But despite attempts at finding any cave entrances, it seemed that either they were buried with absolute successful purpose, or they never existed at all.

The other reason the peaks were inaccessible was that countless years ago, the mountains had been declared sacred, so that to climb the summits was declared a blasphemy, as only the Divines should stand so high on the world; and to even discuss them was deemed heretical.

Those that pointed out to the priests that this edict was passed in Cloudrest, which was in all ways, higher than the mountains they were declaring sacred, soon wished they hadn’t.

So down through the ages, the peaks’ cities had stood silent vigil over the lands of the Summerset Isles.

Quiet.

Alone.

Empty.

Almost.



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Nol gazed detachedly as they passed yet another burnt out farm. The crops were spoiling in the fields and yet, behind a high wooden fence, starving cattle could be seen, watching them with sad, almost lifeless eyes; their tails hanging limp; Dying for want of an open gate. Their heads turned to follow the coach as it passed along the road.

Suddenly, Nol felt a great burning inside him too. The Thalmor had ruined his country. Tcheet had taken the land from the people, or at least, the people from the land. There was no logic to this - surely even the Thalmor needed feeding? To burn out farms and drive people off the land seemed counter-productive. What was the point?

A great rage took him and he banged on the underside of the coach’s roof.

Both Jeck and Siar looked surprised at him, but he never noticed, he was staring, with a look of simmering anger on his face, back at the cattle, penned up, dying.

The carriage stopped and the Justicar tasked with their delivering, appeared at the door.

“I need a comfort break, very quickly.” Nol announced through the closed window with great gusto and with grand gesture.

The Justicar winced and announced, “We’ve not long-”

“I’m old, deal with it. Your boss wanted us to be treated with every courtesy. Now, please?”

The young Justicar caught between conflicting ideas, shrugged and opened the door.

Nol climbed down, winked at the Justicar and vanished, dragging a breeze past the shocked look on the youngster’s face.

Nol hadn’t actually vanished, not in the sense that Koyree could, he’d simply pushed his speed fortify to the highest he was able - these days - and run to cows’ pen. He stopped at the gate with a wince and an “Aack!” With a hand to his back, he then opened the gate, went inside and walked up to the first of the cows. The sadness in the black and white faces evident, even to Nol.

“Fleet Admiral Nol Areldur, hero to the Navy, saving the Isles, one cow at a time...Go on girl!” He smacked the rump of the cow. She turned a sad, almost reproachful look on Nol and walked slowly towards the gate. Putting her nose outside the line of the gate and looking around to see if anyone was watching, she jumped over the invisible line where the gate would have been, and turned around. She swished her tail, shook her head and offered up a soft, two tone moo. Immediately, the others walked slowly towards the first cow, who mooed again. They reached the gateway and stopped. The first cow bellowed loudly and ran off. The others’ heads shot up, they pointed their ears forward and having come to some sort of decision, jumped the invisible line and ran off up the fields.

Nol smiled and nodded, feeling some sort of small victory.

He breathed in deeply, although he then wished that he had – perhaps – chosen a somewhat better place to breathe his last air of freedom. He saw in the distance, the lighthouse on the coast, near to his home town.

He smiled.

And still smiling, he turned to receive the punch that was coming from the newly arrived Justicar.



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When Tiber Septim conquered The Summerset Isles, he did so – out of necessity – in three phases. First, he took the outer-lying islands; second he took the two corners – Dusk side of the Tarsuschii mountains and Sunhold side of the Tarulsishuk range. Dusk welcomed him and his troops with open arms, the western corner objected, at least for a short time. And a seemingly overzealous amount of forts were built on the peninsula.

The third phase came down from the north, it was here that Septim used his Numidium Golem - The giant Dwemer technological, marvellous horror that was the gigantic walking machine-man. It swept away all resistance in front, from north-west to south-east, across the main island, followed in by a seemingly unending supply of soldiery to simply sit on the population until they came to accept Septim as their Emperor, thinking – as most Altmer do – that whatever happened, they were likely to outlive the Imperials, and then everyone could get back to normal.

However, soon enough, the way of the Empire became normal, and almost everyone was happy with that. Almost everyone. Slowly, over the centuries, old resentments resurfaced. The young grew restless and talked of revolution. Old ideas dressed up as new came to the lips of those on the edges of society. And so, before a man, young in the days of Septim could become truly old, along came the Thalmor and conquered the Summerset Isles from within.

Sadly, this time the population questioned whether they would live to see the next day, let alone outlive the Thalmor.

All they could do was pray to the Nine Divines.

Well, the eight.

And as for Septim, they quietly prayed that out there, in the rest of the world where – at the moment at least – he was still in the Pantheon, Talos would hear their silent, un-be-totem’d prayers and send some help.

Soon.

Please?



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Nol sat and wondered when exactly he’d gotten so old. He’d never been a huge magic user, not in the grandiose conjuring illusions or fireballs-from-the-hands type of way. His was more Restoration than any other type. Quietly healing or stamina boosts and the like.

So it was a great surprise, that when the six hundred year old (give or take a few years) Fleet Admiral was clapped in Nul-Iron manacles, he felt all the ravages that he’d put himself through in his long and mostly fun life. The Nul-Iron’s magic suppression cut out all the small ways that he hadn’t been conscious of keeping himself going. One eye went blurred, the other saw ghosting of the image. His breathing grew slightly painful. The majority of his joints seemed to ache.

Dear Gods! he thought, This is ridiculous. How in kriffing hells am I going to get us out of it, this time?

Six hundred years was barely middle age to an Altmer. Had Nol’s life really been so full so far, that had he been without magic, Fleet Admiral would have been just a memory or worse, a dream unfulfilled?

He sighed, completely failed to catch the eyes of Siar and Jeck, and went back to looking out of the window.

Well, as best as he could.



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So it was that Nol Areldur, Siar Eremnor and Jeck Harramaund came to Alinor, capitol city of The Summerset Isles.

Alinor – a dark city of black rock. Crennellated walls surrounded a gothic city of imposing civic buildings and towers, mansions on one side of the city and tenement-like hovels on the other, and in between, all the services, vendors and countless other trappings that every city needs to thrive. The sea broke on an imposing pile of rocks at the foot of one giant wall. Said wall also made it possible to forget that it was a sea-side city, especially when the wind was in the right direction. A manmade harbour had been created nearby to the south of the city, to receive supplies directly, so as to not disturb the ebb and flow of commerce within the walls. Even when – it has to be said – said city was in the grip of mad tyrannical rule

In the middle of the great and dark heart of the Thalmor Empire – and what the city’s great main roads led towards – was The Crystal Tower, an impossibly old structure, whose true purpose was unclear. Simply that for now, it was the building in which was the seat of Government. Built unknowable years before the city, and yet of the same rock as the city. However the Tower had then been encased in some form of crystal, with openings left for the doors and windows. It was an impossible piece of workmanship. No joins could be discerned in the crystal, no flaws, no mistake. Simply one, giant crystal layer over the rock.

It was towards this structure that the carriage now headed. A giant, looming over them as they rolled ever closer, just as The White-Gold Tower had dominated Imperial City before their destruction, ten years earlier.

The carriage drove down a boulevard – one of several around the tower – that began just as the buildings stopped. An avenue of tall trees with canopies full of light green leaves, that rustled and turned even in the slight breeze there was. This close to the Tower there were nothing else, the land given over to grass and flowers between the roads.

As it was possibly planned, the carriage passed by one of the two large ornamental ponds that lay on opposite sides of the Tower. Given the Thalmor’s viciousness, it was likely that this was the actual one that had “claimed” Miitr Farrada.

If it could be viewed from above, the Crystal Tower sat at the centre of a wheel, with the boulevards as spokes, leading out to the ring of buildings which sat like some giant rim denoting the circle. Halfway out from the Tower sat another ring, this one of paving stones. Standing on this ring, on either side of the road they were headed down, stood two immense statues. No immediate obviousness to their construction material, but rendered on a terrifying scale were the two architects of the Thalmor resurgence; the dominators of the Aldmeri Dominion.

On the left as they passed, was the Altmer priest known only as Oostermann, his left hand clutching The Book of Arkay to his be-robed self, while his right arm was stretched out in front, hand up, palm outwards, with two fingers up in benediction; And on the right was Overlord Ofwysyn Tcheet, former General, stood armoured in the finest way, his sword arm straight out, sword pointing along the road towards all that headed this way.

One statue saying, “Receive this, for we bless all our allies”; and the other saying, “Beware! our enemies, for we are always watching, and you are doomed to fail.”

As they drew up to the building, more of the Justicars could be seen with their guard escorts, and on the roads that ran away from the Tower, carriages like the one the trio were in could be seen either leaving or arriving.

Haunted, terrified eyes could be seen staring out through the windows of those arriving.



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The carriage pulled up at one of the entrances and a guard, having opened the door, motioned for the three to get out. Siar made to get up first, so as to help Nol out, but the Justicar put his hand up and said with a sneer, “No, I’m sure the hero would like to do it all himself.” and then stepped back.

Nol sighed, gripped the door, and then slowly and painfully lowered himself down, his knees protesting.

The guards laughed.

Nol sighed.

They were led through the massive entrance doors, the outside of which was carved with intricate whirls and flowers and as many patterns as the carver had in his repertoire. On passing through the doorway, their eyes were immediately drawn to an ornately patterned carpet covered, broad stairway that wound leisurely upwards, part-circling around the inside of the outer wall, towards the next level of the Tower. Then they noticed that there were also dozens of official looking people milling about the lobby, or walking up and down the stairway, talking to aides, or half reading official looking documents.

Justicars passed here and there, some in pairs, some alone. Some holding a prisoner between them, bound for large dark doors in a couple of the corners of the room.

Eremnor whistled, “This really is quite the place you’ve stolen,” he mock-coughed, “I mean, legitimately acquired as the rightfully elected government.”

The Justicar frowned.

Harramaund added, “So is there a torture chamber on every floor?”

The Thalmor agent took a step towards the Naval officers.

Nol was looking with one eye closed towards the stairs, “You’re really going to make me walk up this damned thing, aren’t you?”

“Don’t worry,” said the Justicar, smiling at Nol, “We’re not going right to the top.”

And so it was, with considerable agony to Nol that he, Siar and Jeck found themselves before a pair of giant, ornate, gilded doors. A pair of guards in full masked, elven armour stood in front of the doors holding long battle-spears. At the approach of the party, they stepped to each side, and banged on the doors.

The giant doors, decorated with gilded patterns swung open soundlessly, revealing the interior of the room.

The effect was lost on Nol, really, who couldn’t see anything without squinting anymore.

The trio and their attendant guardary walked into the room.



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This post has been edited by McBadgere: Apr 27 2012, 07:30 PM

[jack cloudy]

Still reading on but it's getting rather late so I think I'll stop for the night. I'm now at the part where the gods have their little get-together on the catamaran.

So, what should I say? You've given your story of what happened to the Dwemer and the whole ship cursed to sail the seas forever ala flying dutchman is a nice touch. I also like how friendly the gods are with each other. Seriously, they're doing important stuff but whenever they meet it's more like old friends hanging out and chilling than saving the world.

Oh, and there were some quality bits of humour. Such as Tiber complaining about how their solution to problems is to make more immortals. Loved that line.

[Acadian]

What an immersive carriage ride to Alinor!

‘Siar looked at Areldur, and said, “She’ll be fine. She’s too much like you to need worrying about.”
Nol raised his eyebrows and looked exaggeratedly about the carriage with his eyes.
Eremnor laughed once and replied, “Point taken. She’ll be fine, Nol.” and he gripped Areldur’s forearm.’
This was brilliantly put and I could picture it perfectly!

I enjoyed the reasoning that wanting to reach higher into the heavens may have motivated those three exceptional races to build cities atop the mountains.

“Fleet Admiral Nol Areldur, hero to the Navy, saving the Isles, one cow at a time...Go on girl!”
I loved this whole scene – Nol’s observations and fury, his speedy spell and taking a punch for his altruism. Masterfully done!

Nice job revealing how being manacled by Nul-Iron removed Nol’s numerous restorative coping magicks and he had to deal with the effects of his years.

And *gulp* they’ve arrived!

[Colonel Mustard]

Y'know that I said that I've thought that this has been pretty damn good so far? Well, I'm not quite sure what you've done, but you seem to have stepped it up a level in the last part, so keep doing it.

So down through the ages, the peaks’ cities had stood silent vigil over the lands of the Summerset Isles.

Quiet.

Alone.

Empty.

Almost.

This was a very nice little interlude, and may have helped, I think.