Jack!!...Many thanks for the idea...It's pretty good, not right, but good...Answers will be there before the end, but I'll draw you to what I said towards the start of this, what seems like already an age earlier...
“Right gentlemen,” started the Oversaar, “we have a total clusterfus of a situation, and it stinks worse than an Argonian garbage scow in the height of summer. Oostermann and his Thalmer finally got into power.”
There was a deep sighing from around the table.
“Except this time it’s Thalmor.”
“From One-elf to One-world?” asked Areldur.
“Didn’t he try this a hundred years ago?” Eremnor added.
“Yeah, but the Cyrodiilian supertrio of Ocato, Ormandin and McWylde – which sound like a sinister firm of solicitors – put their oars in, and he was dismissed as irrelevant.” Answered Harramaund.
“But now the damned idiot managed to get the army behind him. Something about communing with ‘the Divine Arkay’ to convince them to get behind the idea.”
The three younger High-Elves looked at Farrada with disbelief for a short while before Eremnor picked up his ale, drank a bit then asked, “Who?”
The older man smirked, raised his eyebrow and announced, “General Ofwysyn Tcheet.”
“Well, that makes some sense I suppose, if not a pleasant idea. He’s been on about being blessed by Arkay himself for years hasn’t he? This is what he says gives him and his ‘Elite troops’ their power.” Said Areldur.
Tcheet is kind of the same as the original Commander from earlier, Robert McWylde, and therefore the Altmer is an excercise in what happens if one that is called by a Divine decides to use his power...Differently...Also, what happens if you find out that your actions are being manipulated by the Divine you've pledged your life and soul to?...Coming soon...Um...Ish...
Mustard...Many thanks my friend...Glad the villain turned out better than I was worried it might have...
Grits...Thank you!!...More of the Bosmer this time...
...Sorry this bit is such a tall tale...
...Ahem...Yes...About that wringer I mentioned...
Athynae...In another bit of planning, there was the idea to have Cestra's story too...But I couldn't get sidetracked by that too, it's bad enough as it is!!
...Basically, she's been with Tcheet for a while in a kind of "Well, my guild is okay I shall bury my head in the sand to everything else." kind of way.
Thank you for the nudges I get now and then about my writing, I'm just always concious of exactly how good the other writers in this club I'm standing in are
Acadian...Thank you m'friend!!...Like I said, glad the villain turned out okay in the end...And yes, I imagined Cestra to be one of those pushy parents who never really told Koyree how proud she was or how much she loved her...Always imagining there would be chance later...And now...*Shrug*...Like I said, an unwritten part of it all, but had to be worked out anyways...
mALX!!...Indeed...A very high price...More Cestra soon...You lucky peoples you...
To continue...Empire, 3E 604, 10 years earlier...1.12 Empire (pt. 8 - Know Thine Enemy – vi)Alinor, 10 years earlier.
The trouble with hard diamonds of hate is that you can easily lose them, especially if your heart happens to be in a million pieces.
Because he hadn’t killed Ondolemar, and Koyree was dead.
Nol realised he was absolutely lost, somewhere between the dais and the door; possibly around the time he’d turned to Tcheet and dared him to tell them it was all a lie, a joke. Tcheet had simply answered, “I’ve got you where I want you, why lie to you now
Both Cestra, as she left and Siar, as he
was taken away – he had even winked at Nol – had looked to him with such hope that he would pull some miracle out of thin air, there and then.
As the Thalmor guard had gripped his arm and led him firmly along the long carpet towards the door, he suddenly realised that he couldn’t think of anything, he tried to focus on his hate, always a help, focus on something, anything
. But that was when he discovered that he couldn’t find any hate. Well, he couldn’t find his head; his heart.
Torn into countless ribbons and blowing away with the tempest of realisation that –
Because he hadn’t killed Ondolemar, Koyree was dead.
As a father, the thing you do- you’re SUPPOSED
to do, is put yourself in harm’s way for them. You take the hit, you protect
them. You do not arrogantly assume that they can take care of themselves so you can be a hero again when you’re feeling old and irrelevant. What you do
is, as soon as she disappears, you take as many of them out with you as fast as you can, but most importantly, what you do every single time
, is kill Ondolemar. Because then, Koyree would be alive. Not dead.
But he hadn’t
killed Ondolemar, and Koyree was dead.
He was dimly aware that he was stood in the middle of a room, staring blankly at a painting. A beach, a cliff, the sea, she loved the sea, almost as much he
did. Well, she did
. And now she couldn’t. And it was all his
He had meant to do something. He frowned and slowly looked down. Something about diamonds? Oh no, getting out. But what was there to get out to
Ondolemar was out there wasn’t he? He could kill him. Yes! Kill Ondolemar!
“Bit bloody late now
, pissing idiot.”
Nol turned his head and saw his reflection in a mirror.
“You should have done it when you had the chance, and now
, you were no kriffing help. Why didn’t
you do something?
“Oh no, I was having a grand old time playing hero thank you very much. See, everyone expects me to do
something about it. And isn’t it always
as much of a drug as any you’ve complained about Jeck taking?”
Nol noticed the mirror was on the floor in a thousand pieces.
Suddenly one shard was in his hand.
His eyes met his reflection’s...No, Farrada’s
! Good old Farrada
“You do that
, and I will kick your ar$e from one end of eternity to the other, and that’s a bloody long time. And you know
what that’ll do to my knee. Do you really want that on your conscience? Hmmm? Hmmm?
I told you to wait like a good Altmer. Why didn’t you wait Nol?”But how long was I supposed to wait?
“As long as it took!! What? You’re in a hurry? You’ve got half your life to wait.”Something needed doing, he was going too far.
“Trust me on this, something is already being done. I saw it. It was all in there to see.”Where?
“The throne room. I saw it, you
saw it. All you had to do was wait a bit longer and none of this would have happened. But no, you and your friends had to go and try and prove you still had it. Really, the four
of you against the Thalmor? You really
thought you had a chance? You arrogant $hit. There are
other people in the world you know?”
“You killed me.” Said Koyree, staring out from the shard.
Then there was blood on his fingers. Lots of blood.
He heard voices shouting with alarm.
Then his hands were covered in white fabric. Oh, bandage.
A face appeared before Nol. He was supposed to hate him, wasn’t he? Yes, I
. It wasn’t Nol’s
fault after all! It was this face’s. Well,
Nol giggled, not the
face as such
. But he couldn’t find his hate. Well, he couldn’t find his heart. Oh yes, a million pieces and all that
Because he hadn’t killed Ondolemar, and Koyree was dead.
The face spoke words, turned away, looked back with a frown. Another face joined it, spoke words. Nol raised his eyebrow. I know you
The first face nodded and went away. Nol missed it already.
The second face smiled at him, so he smiled back. The face grew hands, he felt fingers at his temples. The face said, “Don’t worry Fleet Admiral, I know a thing or two about this sort of thing.”
Nol woke in a brightly lit room. He tried to push himself up with his hands and winced. Areldur held his hands in front of his face and frowned. What the hells?
A nurse came to him, helped him sit up, and asked how he was feeling.
“There are several very important questions with words like where and how in them that I should be asking right now, however I will start with how long?”
“Two days. You were asleep for almost two days.”
“I remember the throne room, and then...Being somewhere else. Oh...” Koyree
“No, Fleet Admiral!” the nurse shook him. “Here, take this water, focus on the water.”
He gripped the glass between his paw-like, bandaged hands.
be, we boil it.” Said the nurse.
“No, I mean...Oh...A joke, clever.” His eyelids started to close.
“Stay with me Fleet Admiral, focus. You!” she called a guard. “Either go yourself or send someone to get, Healer Maircaln and Aide Trellanwr. Maybe we need to inform the Overlord too.” She shrugged.
The guard hesitated.
The nurse rolled her eyes. “Just get Maircaln and Trellanwr. Fleet Admiral!” she slapped Nol’s face.
“Ow! Well your bedside manner leaves much to be desired.”
“Well, if you desire my in
-bed manner.” And she took off her uniform and climbed into bed with him.
A ringing slap brought him around.
“Ow!” he said. “Well, your
bedside manner leaves much to be desired.” He frowned and looked about confusedly.
“Focus on your water, drink some of it, talk to me or the walls; Hells, even the water
, but for the Gods’ sake, don’t fall asleep again.”
“Cestra.” He said.
“I need to see Cestra, do you know if she’s alright? Can you get a message to her?”
Nol frowned. “Tcheet’s...plaything.”
, I don’t really get invited to those circles, if you know what I mean? But Aide Trellanwr might be able to help you.”
“Do you come here often?” He asked hopefully.
“Only when it’s quiet.” She said, and took off her uniform.
One slap later and Nol was handed a painting. “Tell me what you can see in it.” the nurse said.
“Heh.” Nol smiled.
The nurse angled her head to see the painting better, “Something funny I hadn’t noticed?”
“No, it’s just the lighthouse. The town where I come from has a lighthouse. Wonder if I’ll see it again?”
“So what else
do you see?”
“Erm...An Ayelid ruin, with some unidentifiable oversized men in armour coming out of it, charging at a few glowing knights in white. I like the way they’ve done the sea, it’s very pretty...Wait a minute. You can’t see the whole town, but I know this. It’s Anvil isn’t it? And the ruin is Garlas Malatar. How the hells did you manage to keep this here
very well informed.” Said a voice. “How so?”
“Ah,” said the nurse, “Aide Trellanwr, Admiral Areldur.”
Adm-” Nol started to say and then looked properly at the aide, “You?!!
” he spat.
The Bosmer looked back at him. “Me?”
“You’re the one who told Tcheet about...about...” Nol breathed hard.
“Yes, I had the misfortune of delivering the message, and for what it’s worth, I am truly
sorry for your loss.” Said Aide Trellanwr, “Now where did you learn about the image in the painting?”
Nol stared hard at the Bosmer for a spell, then shrank somewhat, with some sort of internal defeat. Areldur then said, “I tend to be away at sea a lot, being a Fleet Admiral and all. I have a great many
books. Some of them – although they will probably be burned by now – were about The Knights of The Nine. And although the books I have are varied as well as many, some
of them get read more than once.” He shrugged, “The question is, how did you
come to keep this? What with Tcheet’s pathological need to ignore the recent past and all.” he gestured with the painting.
, I didn’t. It’s the Temple’s; two
, when the previous occupiers were...Moved on, we simply took over the place, furnishings and all. And obviously we didn’t check the paintings thoroughly enough
,” the Bosmer stared meaningfully at the nurse, “and three
...” he took the painting from Nol and threw it hard against the opposite wall, where it crumpled.
Nol sighed and shook his head. He raised an eyebrow, “So, is Aide your title or is it short
Trellanwr looked at Nol and said, “Well, you
seem to be feeling better, how many fingers am I holding up?”
just rude. So what’s with these?” Nol held his hands up for inspection.
“Well, that’s a question for the Healer really, but come on Fleet Admiral, you’re an educated man. How much mess do you think you made of your hands for them to still be wrapped up that
tightly, two days later?”
Nol looked at the bandaged things in his lap. “I don’t understand.” He said.
Just then, another new Altmer walked into the room.
“Ah Maircaln, the Fleet Admiral here was just asking about his hands.”
“The ones he’s lucky to still have?” Maircaln said. The woman came and sat on the bed, the opposite side to where Trellanwr stood. She took hold of Nol’s forearm with one hand and put the other on the top of his head, middle finger and thumb spread as wide as possible to get as close to his temples as possible.
The grey-haired Altmer leaned in and kissed him deeply.
One focus spell later and Nol was wide awake again, this time with little chance of falling asleep, adrenaline excited by magic.
“I shall have another potion added to prevent relapse from happening.” Maircaln nodded. “Right, your hands.” She paused, then, “I’m sure you’ve had occasion to notice these things, given your line of work, but the more severe the wound, the more complications self-healing or application of strong potions and salves will produce.”
Nol frowned, slowly catching up with understanding of the words, then nodded. “Flesh knits easily, but some of the other things take more time to mesh properly.”
The healer nodded and smiled, her silver-grey eyes twinkling, “That’s right, there is more to the body than just flesh and bone, these other
things are always able to be
repaired, but only if you take more time, else they don’t work properly.” Maircaln looked Nol in the eye. “The damage you did to your hands,” she shook her head, “you almost took your fingers off of one hand, somehow you almost sliced your other hand off, mid-palm. The amount of trauma these took, you are really lucky that we were able to save them at all
Nol stared shocked and sad at his hands.
“As strange as it may sound, we’ve had to suppress your natural magicks, so that you don’t go trying to heal yourself quicker-”
Nol frowned and started to point out he could see and about his knee and the other problems when he was without magic.
The healer nodded, “Yes, the biothaumicautopalliative response system, that’s being taken care of with potions and spells. All those extra problems, they all happened because
you took potions, or healed yourself, or had someone do it for you. Then your body adapted to it. You were none the wiser until the magic wasn’t there. ”
Even Trellanwr was fascinated with this. “So how long until his hands will be, well, could be
The Altmer looked over the bed at the dark haired Bosmer and shrugged, “The surface wounds should be closed even now, it’s been two days, we shall check presently; as for the rest, if the potions and salves work as they should, we could
know in a few days, then these,” she indicated to bandages, “can come off permanently, as whatever can
be done,” she shrugged, “will have been obvious by then.
“So for now, my word tops even that of our beloved
Overlord. Do I make myself absolutely
clear Aide Trellanwr? He is to be left to our care and undisturbed. You can have him, when I’m absolutely sure he’s done.”
“I could ask The Overlord whether that is, in fact, the case, Healer
Maircaln.” The Bosmer frowned, but then shrugged and a more pleasant – friendly even – expression came to Trellanwr’s face, “But yes, the Fleet Admiral needs some time to recover from more than just the visible
wounds. As much as I can promise these things, you’ll have the time.
“Lucky you Fleet Admiral, I shall be visiting to see how you’re progressing.” Trellanwr smiled almost warmly at Nol, “Though a word of advice my dear Healer, I can’t always predict Overlord Tcheet’s moods. One may take him to come and check up on the patient himself
, and there will be nothing I can do to stop that. If anything should go wrong, or you’re delaying the release of the Fleet Admiral here...It would be best for you that that doesn’t happen, if you understand me?”
Healer Maircaln dispatched the nurse – Marita, he seemed to remember – to fetch fresh supplies for the replacing of the Fleet Admiral’s dressings.
Trellanwr followed the conversation between the two Altmers for a while, but eventually he was only keeping half an ear on it as he looked out of the large windows to the day outside.
The sunshine of a few days ago had been replaced by summer storms. The latest batch had not long departed, and they were left with merely overcast skies, some lucky shafts of sun racing down to shine off the wet rooftops, just as quickly to be forced away by the next bullying cloud bank.
Presently the nurse returned with a second pushing a trolley full of medical accoutrements.
Not that he was particularly squeamish, but Trellanwr took the opportunity to leave at that point.
“Best leave you all to it,” he said, “however, I will need a few moments with nurse Marita here.”
The nurse turned pale and her eyes widened, then she looked to Maircaln and the new nurse. She sighed, dropped her eyes and followed the Bosmer out of the room.
They walked a short way down the corridor. Trellanwr turned the handle on a door and walked into the empty room. Marita followed him in and he closed the door behind her.
“You couldn’t have handed him a better
“It was the only one in the room!”
was it that that
particular painting was the only one
in the room? It should have been shifted years
ago. How come it’s still about? That was way
too dangerous Marita.”
Marita looked down, embarrassed, “It’s one of my favourites.”
Trellanwr sighed. “Yes, one of mine
Marita looked close to crying, “I’m sorry
,” she said, “I just wanted something to remind me of home, this is so
“I know.” Trellanwr walked to the door. “Be more damned careful in future.” He opened the door and stepped through it. Before he was out of sight he stopped and turned sideways to Marita. “I’ll see if I can find another one. But if you get caught with it, you’re on your own, I
won’t be able to save you.” And walked off.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------This post has been edited by McBadgere: Jun 7 2012, 06:59 AM