Madgod Options

[Colonel Mustard]

It's back! (finally)

McBadgere: Yeah, I've developed a soft spot for Ta'Zarna while writing this too. He will be appearing again, worry not.

Darkness Eternal: I know about italics thing but I haven't actually had any active thoughts in the last few chapters...

Glad you enjoyed the gladiator scene, and I was trying to get some sense of what it would be like to have your life in the hands of a crowd (plus it never made sense to me to have all the arena fights to the death; you'd just run out of gladiators...), or entirely dependent on whether a rich patron is in a good or a bad mood. And no, Her Ladyship is not a vampire, though I can imagine that she and Alucardius would probably enjoy one another's company.

And yes, I do do Martial Arts (krapow!), which will hopefully make Carnius' fight scenes nice and realistic as well as being visceral and exciting. And as for the gold and wenches, well...I wonder how long their appeal will last.


Chapter 4-The Parting Gift

You prepared for these things when you worked as a gladiator. In a profession where death was a constant that hung over you on gossamer threads, it was foolishness not to. Those who lasted in the arena knew that the likelihood of each match being their last increased with every bout, and so took some measures and made preparations. Everybody at the arena had the sense to get their affairs in order soon.

Agronak had not had anything as fancy as a proper will and testament made with a lawyer, mainly because he had never trusted them. Instead, he had given Carnius a key and made him promise that he would do as he had asked with it if he ever died in the arena.

Carnius’ first destination was his house on the waterfront. He unlocked the door to his small, shabby and yet well kept one-storey home and headed through the main room into his bedroom. It was simple and Spartan, more a place to sleep than to live, with the only other bits of furniture being a bedside table, a wardrobes for his clothes and a chest to safeguard his possessions. There were no books or even any pictures; Carnius hadn’t time for the latter and he found former too much trouble to work out for it to be any kind of pleasure.

He picked up the chest with a grunt, heaving it to one side and pulling back the threadbare green rug it lay on top of. Underneath that was a trapdoor, and he clicked back the bolt and lifted it up.

Beneath it, there was another chest. There were several items here that were most important to him; much of his coin, as, like Agronak, he held with local wisdom that said it was bad to trust lawyers, bankers or any of their kind, a few other bits of personal memorabilia and the key.

He took it and tucked it into his pocket, closing the chest and placing it back in its hiding place, dropping the chest over it and making sure that the rug wasn’t obviously disturbed. His work done, he left his house, locking the door behind him once more as he headed for Agronak’s old house.

When he found it, there were already people there, people he didn’t know. Opening up the door, going through it. Ransacking and looting it.

He strode towards one of them who was standing outside it with a heavy ledger and a quill, and asked; “What’s going on? Who are you?”

“Quinitus Tarral, Imperial Office of Taxation and Audits,” the man replied. “The inhabitant of this house here passed away yesterday, and as he specified no inheritor in his will it’s now property of the Empire. You a friend of his?”

“Yes,” Carnius replied. “And you can’t do this.”

“Why not?” Quinitus asked. “It’s all perfectly legal.”

Carnius shook his head; he couldn’t argue with that.

“Look,” he said. “I’m a friend of his. He made me promise to do something with his money for him if he died. I need to get it.”

Quinitus snorted.

“Nice try,” he said. “He’s got no will, so you don’t have a leg to stand on, let me assure you of that. Now move along and stop wasting my time.”

“Is everything still in there?” Carnius asked, changing subject.

“Yes, it is, seeing as we’re still making an inventory of it all,” Quinitus replied. “And that doesn’t mean you’re getting in.”

“Right,” Carnius said. “Thanks.”

He stepped past Quinitus, through the front door.

“Hey!” the clerk called after him “Where are you going?”

“In there,” Carnius said as he entered the spacious hallway.

“You can’t do that!” Quinitus protested. “Don’t make me call the Watch!”

“Call them if you want,” Carnius said. “I don’t care.”

Quinitus hestitated as Carnius stepped into what looked like a study before hurrying after Carnius.

“I’m warning you,” he said.

Carnius turned on him, and Quinitus gulped as he realised just how much taller and brawnier than him Carnius was, clutching his ledger to his chest like a shield.

“Look,” Carnius said. “I made Agronak a promise that I’d do something with his money for him if he died. I know you’re just doing your job, but if you keep getting in my way then we’re going to have a problem. Understand?”

“Yes,” Quinitus managed. “Look, I know you might be upset if he was your friend, but I really can’t let you do this, please! There’s a legal process and everything we can work it out, but I can’t just let you march in here and take things. I’d lose my job if I did that.”

He shook his head, and said; “Who are you, anyway?”

“The new Grand Champion.”

Quinitus was quiet for a moment, before he said; “Oh.”

After a second he added a hesitant; “Congratulations, I suppose.”

“Thanks,” Carnius said. “Now look, can I get Agronak’s money out? I’m not just going off with it, and he made me promise to do something with it. Look, he even gave me this key for his strongbox and everything.”

He fished it out of his pocket to prove his point, and Quinitus frowned. Carnius could see he had the small man running scared, and he had enough self-preservation instinct in him to decide that refusing the Grand Champion was a bad idea.

“I suppose,” he said after a moment. “Seeing as you have the key and everything, it counts as a verbal contract. And if the money’s with a trusted party and is accounted for, it should be alright. Nothing I’d lose my job over.”

Carnius nodded.

“Say it was a charitable donation,” he said. “They don’t tax those, do they?”

“No, no,” Quinitus said. “You can take the money, if you want. Just don’t punch anyone, please.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Carnius replied as he pulled open a cupboard on the desk Agronak had. He wasn’t sure how much the Grey Prince would have actually used it; he was hardly the most academic of people. The speculation was immaterial, however, and what was more immediate was the grey steel box in there. He placed the key in its lock and clicked it open, pulling the lid back to inspect the stash of Septims within it. He wasn’t sure of the sum within, but Grand Champion was a well-paid title and it was certainly a lot. He closed it, nodding in satisfaction, taking it and tucking it under his arm.

“Alright,” he said. “I’m done.”

He doubted there was much else he could do for Agronak’s house now.

Quinitus nodded, then hesitantly held up his quill and asked he asked; “I don’t suppose you can sign my ledger, could you?”

“Fine,” Carnius shrugged. “Where do you want me to sign it?”

Quinitus flicked to the back of it, to a blank page, and said; “Just there would be fine.”

Carnius nodded, taking the quill and scrawling something approaching his name on the parchment.

“Now there’s a keepsake worth hanging onto,” Qunitius said, ripping the page from the book. “Thank you.”

“It’s alright,” Carnius said, making for the door.

He left Agronak’s house with his package, heading back through the crowded streets of the Imperial city. People bustled around him, but paid him no more heed other than to move out of his way. Soon enough, he had found his destination; a large building of white stone, one that looked old but was still well kept, with the words ‘Saint Allesia’s Home for Parentless Children’ written on a sign above the door.

He rapped his knuckles on the heavy oak door, and after a few moments of waiting it swung open for him. He was greeted by an Imperial woman, who asked him; “Yes, sir? What can I do for you?”

“I’ve come to make a donation,” Carnius said. “Just a bit of, you know, charity.”

He rattled the strongbox and the girl nodded.

“Of course, thank you,” she said. “Come on in.”

She lead him through into a small side room, and nodded for him to set down the strongbox on the table.

“How much are you giving?” she asked as Carnius did so, pulling the key from his pocket.

“I’m not sure,” Carnius replied. “I was just giving you what’s in the box.”

He pulled the lid back, revealing the contents, and she gasped as she looked at the gold within.

“By the Nine,” she murmured. “I…there must be thousands in there. Thank you, sir. Thank you so much. There’s been work on the building we’ve needed to and we were worried about how we were going to get the money, but this is…thank you, thank you.”

She bit her lip, tears of amazed gratitude beginning to well before she cleared her throat.

“Sorry,” she managed. Carnius was standing a little uncomfortably, blushing at the outburst of emotion. “This is just…it’s quite a shock, that’s all.”

“It’s fine,” Carnius said. “I think I understand.”

She nodded.

“What’s your name, sir,” she said. “I mean, we were hoping to build a new set of dormitories and if you wanted to we could name it after you; this should pay for it.”

“It’s not my money,” Carnius said. “I’m giving it on behalf of a friend of mine. He, ah, he can’t deliver it himself.”

“Oh,” the woman said. “I’m sorry to hear that. It was a very generous thing of him to ask for. What was his name? We can put up the new wing as a memorial for him, if you think it would be the sort of thing he would like; it would be a good thing to be remembered by.”

“Yeah, he’d like that,” Carnius said. “His name was Agronak; Agronak Gro-Malog.”

“The Grey Prince?” the orphanage’s proprietor asked, to which Carnius nodded. “I see. I suppose he was well known for being charitable with his money.”

She smiled at him, and said; “Thank you, again. There would have been a lot of people who would have kept this, I think. It was good of you to do this.”

“I promised him,” Carnius replied with a shrug. “And I’m a man of my word.”

“And the world could use more men like you,” the woman said. “Thank you again, sir. I’ll be sure to put this to good use.”

“I’m sure you will,” Carnius said. “I think I should go, though. Good luck with making that new wing.”

He rose to left, before he was stopped by the orphanage’s owner asking; “I didn’t get your name, sir. What is it?”

“It’s nothing important,” Carnius said. “I was just a friend of Agronak’s, that’s all.”

“If you say so,” she said. “But if it’s all the same, thank you. We’re in your debt here.”

“Don’t mention it,” Carnius replied. “I just passed the money on.”

He nodded a farewell to her, which she returned, still sitting by the box with a disbelieving air about her. He made his way through the front door, making sure the latch closed behind him, and it was as he stepped back onto the street that he realised something; he had absolutely no idea of what he was going to do with himself next.

[Darkness Eternal]

Yeah, not all contests ended in death. People didn't want to waste a life that they invested on. Its like murdering a famous football player because he did a poor showing in during a football game, you know. I reread the Ladyship scene(Isabelle) weeks ago, and yeah, I did conclude that she is not a vampire. I knew that

Good that you do martial arts. As a practitioner and a writer, I am quite sure you will write a compelling yarn on the do's and dont's and how's of hand to hand combat. Gold and wenches...good for a time. Depending on the individual, their appeal can diminish quite significantly.

We certainly get to see more of Carnius in this chapter. For example, his not so extravagant living conditions and lack of books means he either is short on coin or he prefers a more humble living space. The lack of books tells us he is not much of a reader either. I like the fact that a memorial of Agronak was offered. It wa still sad to see the fallen champion's house ransacked and looted. Good chapter. We can only wait to see what is in story for Carnius.

[haute ecole rider]

RL has kept me from catching up on too many of the stories here. But I thought I'd check yours out as it is still quite short.

I have to say, you hooked me from the first post. The various scenes we saw are excellent teasers of the story to come. Ending with the death of the Grey Prince (one of the real tragedies in the game, I have to admit) is a most excellent way of beginning the narrative.

Be as crazy as you wish - it's the Madgod we're talking about, right? He isn't called Mad for nothing, right?

After that first chapter, I really, especially liked the most recent (The Parting Gift) as it tells us more about Agronak's character and the sort of man Carius really is. It gives us a real sense of history that is so much more enjoyable than seeing a full-developed character spring out of the waters of Lake Rumare, so to speak.

Being a bit of a grammar dictator myself, I am quite pleased by the technical quality of your writing, as well. I find nit-filled stories very difficult to read. This story isn't typical of that sort of tale, and I can just enjoy what you, the writer, is trying to tell us. Thanks for taking the time to put out this sort of quality - it is much appreciated.

I think I will keep following this story, just to see the dance scene with Her Ladyship, the Angel of Rage, and Sentinel. Those teasers showed me the kind of characters they are, and I'm intrigued!

[Grits]

Ta’Xarna is tremendous fun to read. I love that Qunitius asked for an autograph. Pure enjoyment, Colonel!

[McBadgere]

Oh-ho-hooo yes!!... ...

A fantastic episode that shows much of Carnius' character in that he didn't just run off with the money...Then again, this is possibly why he's a Champion eh?... ...

Loved the section at Agronak's house...The dialogue was perfect... ...Made me smile muchly...

Brilliant stuff...

Looking forward to more...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

[Colonel Mustard]

Darkness Eternal: Indeed, people did not want the gladiators they had invested in from dying; one of the odder things about Oblivion was that all the fights were to the death, but I can understand that from a design viewpoint.

On the martial arts thing, I'll say now that that isn't really my main focus with the story (it'll appear, of course, but still...). I'm more trying to focus on character and, in this case, the setting.

And on the lack of books, Carnius isn't much of a reader, no; I'm trying to go for a hero who, while still a smart person, isn't particularly well educated and was unable to get good schooling when he was younger. Thus, books don't mean all that much to him, and he can, in fact, barely write, hence the scrawled signature.


Haute Ecole Rider: Thank ye kindly, good sir! (Or possibly madam. Internet, you know how it is)

I'm glad you're enjoying this, and having Carnius develop over the course of the story is somewhat my intention; I'm trying for somewhat of a Bildungs-Roman story, so I want him to grow out time, and full development straight out of the lake would be counter productive.

And on the grammar note, I always try and keep it good. But thank you in any case. And enjoy the characters when they appear!


Grits: Thanks very much indeed!


McBadgere: Well, it wasn't so much that Carnius is a champion that caused him to honour Agronak's wishes as it was that he's a basically decent person. And I'm glad you liked the section at Agronak's house; I enjoyed writing it a lot, and I'm pleased you enjoyed reading it too.




In short, thank you everyone, and I love you all!
Except you, Clive. Go back to your corner.

[Lady Saga]

I also took tae kwon do as a teen, but slacked on it in as high school started. Got to green belt before I decided I liked sleeping in on Saturday mornings instead, or partying with all my friends the night before.

“Champiiioooon!” a hoarse, rasping voice cheered from behind him all of a sudden. Carnius knew who that was; there was nobody else it could be.

I was thinking this would be you-know-who. I think you did this on purpose, hey?

[Colonel Mustard]

"Champiiioooon!" a hoarse, rasping voice cheered from behind him all of a sudden. Carnius knew who that was; there was nobody else it could be.

I was thinking this would be you-know-who. I think you did this on purpose, hey?

Y'know, that didn't actually occur to me in the slightest. Barely pay much attention to Harry Potter nowadays...

And that's pretty cool that you did TKD too; I'm planning on sticking to it for a while longer (kind of wishing I'd started earlier) and might even go to study it in South Korea.

[Illydoor]

Nice concisely written post there - not too rambling and elaborate to kill the pace of the story.

Can't wait to see what trouble is going to come Carnius' way, he just seems like a guy that attracts it!

Rather sullen too, wonder which side of madness he will prefer...

Just one thing:

It was simple and Spartan

very nitpicky really but it couldn't be Spartan, Carnius' couldn't know what that is! I only say because I posted Dawncaster (holy crap such a long time ago) in some forum and everyone went nuts because of a scene with a clock in it, which was not 'lore-friendly'.

Also, what martial arts do you do? Shotokan Black Belt 2nd Dan over here

[McBadgere]

very nitpicky really but it couldn't be Spartan, Carnius' couldn't know what that is! I only say because I posted Dawncaster (holy crap such a long time ago) in some forum and everyone went nuts because of a scene with a clock in it, which was not 'lore-friendly.'

Maybe Nirn has a Sparta somewhere else in the world that they wound up coining the phrase about... ...And, personally speaking, if I'd read yer story, (is it here btw?) I'd have been quite happy with the clock...I mean, why bother giving the player one to look at if they're not going to have them in the world...And, right, why give the chapels such big bell towers if yer not going to put a clock on the front of it?...My twopenneth...

But then I'm not one for staying inside the lore...If you know what I mean... ...

*Taps foot impatiently*...Mustard?...

[Colonel Mustard]

Just one thing:

It was simple and Spartan

very nitpicky really but it couldn't be Spartan, Carnius' couldn't know what that is! I only say because I posted Dawncaster (holy crap such a long time ago) in some forum and everyone went nuts because of a scene with a clock in it, which was not 'lore-friendly'.

Also, what martial arts do you do? Shotokan Black Belt 2nd Dan over here

Eh, that might be true if it was in dialogue, but I'm not sure how well it holds up seeing as the term 'Spartan' has evolved from meaning 'from the region of Sparta, in Greece' to 'simplistic and minimal' and that the term is being used as a description from the author, not the character. So it would be a valid adjective to apply, surely? I mean, if you wanted to be legalistic about then there's a whole ton of adjectives and other words that you wouldn't be able to use simply because Nirn lacks the cultural/historical context for them to have come about.

And the Shivering Isles has a metronome. That's basically a clock. So the clock works.

And the martial art is Tae Kwon Do, currently at green tag; I started fairly late in the day.

*Taps foot impatiently*...Mustard?...

What?

[McBadgere]

Sorry old mate...

Tried to suggest impatience and excitement towards reading more...

*Shrug*...

[Illydoor]

Maybe Nirn has a Sparta somewhere else in the world that they wound up coining the phrase about... ...And, personally speaking, if I'd read yer story, (is it here btw?) I'd have been quite happy with the clock...I mean, why bother giving the player one to look at if they're not going to have them in the world...And, right, why give the chapels such big bell towers if yer not going to put a clock on the front of it?...My twopenneth...

That's what I said! I'm sure all the chapels have clocks!

It was that Redrock guy Mustard, don't know if you remember him?

Yeah the story's knocking around here somewhere McBadgere, never did get round to finishing it . On something new now though, might get back to it sometime in the future.




This post has been edited by Illydoor: Jun 4 2012, 09:24 PM

[Colonel Mustard]

Quick! Call the Arcane University! We've got a threadomancer on the loose!


Chapter 5-The Door

There's scratching. Scratching in the walls. I don't know what it is. I don't know why there is scratching. Nobody told me that there would be this damn scratching.

I listened. Put down my quill, halted this chronicle, something dangerous in itself (don't tell them, please. They'll be angry with me. We can't let that happen) and listened against the walls. There is a scraping, a gnawing, a scratching, something eating away at them. It must know I'm in here.

Oh no. Please, if you're reading this, send help. Send help, stop it before it gets in!

But the chronicle…the chronicle must continue.

Must write it or they'll see I've stopped…

The crowd roared as the razor-edged claw closed over the heavy gauntlet, clattering against Daedric ebony and gripping. The land-dreugh tugged, trying to stumble Carnius with the grip it held against him, but the gladiator moved with it. He pulled himself in as he swung a punch with his free hand, slamming the spiked knuckles of the heavy metal gloves into the thick carapace that guarded its arm. The bone armour cracked on the impact and the claw released, and Carnius braced raised his arm as the other one swung towards him.

It hit the vambrace protecting his wrist and he turned his forearm as it impacted. The claws slid away before they could get a grip and Carnius' hand twisted around, gripping onto it as the land-dreugh lost balance, the crablike creature shrieking in anger and dismay before his free fist slammed home on the joint. Its cries turned to those of pain as the armour around it cracked into jagged shards that sliced into muscles and severed nerves, the claw lolling uselessly as the crablike being stumbled away from his grip.

Across the arena sands, man and beast faced one another. Carnius panted, blood pounding in his ears as he sized up his opponent in an instant. One of its claws was now useless, nothing more than a barely-controllable club with a sharp, bony edge, the other still working but injured. The razor-tipped forelegs it had were still very much in commission and sharp enough to gut him if he wasn't careful, and he needed to get around those if he wanted a chance to kill it. The head was what he needed to deal with; pulp its tiny brain and it would die.

A moment later, he had formulated a plan for that. One that would look nice and dramatic for the crowds, too.

He moved, shifting over to the left, the dreugh following his movements as he did so. He pressed along the wall of the arena, yelling at the beast as it watched him. It dithered for a moment as the crowd yelled and bellowed for it to do something, before the noise and pain pushed it too far and it charged forwards with a shriek of anger.

Carnius crouched, grabbed a handful of grit and hurled it at his enemy as it skittered towards him. It gave a hissing wail as it was blinded, stumbling and staggering away. It drew to a halt, its remaining good claw scraping over its beady eyes as it tried to clear the stinging sand, and Carnius moved. It may not have hit the wall like he had hoped it would, but it was good enough.

He darted behind it while it was distracted, vaulting onto its back. The dreugh shrieked as it realised where he was, jolting as it tried to throw him and slicing a claw towards him. Carnius grabbed onto one of the lesser arms that protruded from its back with one hand, blocked with the other, the thick chitin claws glancing off the Daedric ebony and throwing it away.

He took his opening, pulled forwards and punched.

The blow crashed into the back of its skull, snapping the shell that protected it and pulping the soft meat beneath it. The Dreugh shrieked and toppled forwards, staggering before Carnius drew his fist back again, the spikes on his gauntlet's knuckles dripping with transparent pink blood and chunks of bone and gore. He smashed it home again, and the Dreugh pitched forwards, toppling onto the sands.

As he rose the crowd roared, clambering to their feet as they bellowed their approval. He looked around at them and raised an arm in acknowledgement. He could pick out coin being passed between customers and bookies along with a few angry words here and there.

He gave a final wave as he headed back down towards the Bloodworks, making his way through the tunnel built from viscera-stained stone. He pushed open the door at the bottom, smiling as he looked at the gore-stained basin in the circular room at the bottom.

He splashed water from it onto his face, the cool and salty liquid running over his skin and bringing the dirt with it. The enchantment on the basin took effect immediately, the fatigue in his muscles seeping away and the nicks and bruises from the fight fading and closing.

Owyn was waiting for him in the Bloodworks, and the Redguard nodded the new Grand Champion his approval as he saw him.

"Good work," he said, stepping from the wall which he was leaning on. "Crowd loved that one if the noise they were making out there was anything to judge by. Here, your pay."

He handed Carnius a small purse that gave a quiet clink as it dropped into the gladiator's palm. Carnius pulled its neck open to check it, the red glint of light within showing its contents to be rubies.

"Should be a thousand Septims' worth of them in there," Owyn said. "Easier to carry than that many coins."

"Thanks," Carnius said as he pocketed it.

"Of course," Owyn said, the Redguard stepping through into the rest of the damp innards of the Bloodworks. There were a few gladiators lounging about, practicing against dummies or sparing against each other with wooden weapons. "Hey, pit dog!"

The Argonian he addressed looked up from where he was expecting a shield, and a clawed hand picked up a flail.

"You're on in two minutes, pit dog," Owyn said. "Head up to entrance, get ready."

"Of course," the Argonian said, standing up and sliding on a helmet, heading past them. He paused as he saw Carnius. "Hey, are you…?"

"Not now, pit dog," Owyn barked. "Head up; crowd's waiting."

"Good luck, kid," Carnius added, to which the lizard-man nodded his thanks. He hurried away up the stairs, scaly tail brushing against the floor with a dry hiss. "Saw him before; was doing alright. He any good?"

"He's a quick learner, I'll give him that much," Owyn replied. "And he's survived this long. Refuses to hear that his flail's not the best weapon for the sort of brawling you get in an arena."

"If I remember right, you said the same thing about me fighting with my fists," Carnius replied. "Look how that turned out."

"You just got lucky," Owyn said.

Carnius snorted.

"What?" Owyn asked.

"Every one of us here is just a wet-behind-the-ears pit dog to you, aren't we?" Carnius asked, gesturing to the gladiators.

"Well, what can I say?" Owyn said. "That's what I all saw you as, and first impressions stick. Except for Ta'Zarna."

"Oh, and what was he?"

"A goddamn maniac. And that never changed."

Carnius shrugged at this, and Owyn suddenly glowered.

"Arran!" he called out to a Redguard gladiator who was practising a series of combat manoeuvres with a pair of scimitars. She stopped what she was doing as the Blademaster approached. "What in the Nine's name do you call that?"

"I'll leave you to your berating," Carnius said as he stepped over to the small locker and mannequin that held most of his arena possessions. He slid off the studded leather tunic and kilt that formed the large part of his armour as the Imperial Arena's champion, and removed his gauntlets. A shirt and trousers of loose, cool and clean cotton, top dyed blue and the bottom simple black, were pulled on, and he inspected the gauntlets. They were still flecked with a few stray chunks of Dreugh-matter, and he wiped them off with a cloth, setting about oiling and cleaning them the best he could. The daedric metal that bladed his knuckles was undamaged, the hardened ebony resilient enough to withstand anything a Dreugh could throw at it and was already clean of blood; he had noticed that was always a strange trait of those bands that ran along them, as if it were somehow drinking it in.

The work did not take long, and soon enough he left, heading into the bustling streets of the Imperial City with his gauntlets safely stored away in the Bloodworks. The crowds flowed around him as he made his way along the pavements, his journey uninterrupted aside from when he was nearly sprayed by a sheet of water from a passing carriage. He halted by a street corner where a boy was standing with a bundle of scrolls under his arm, brandishing one of them like the sceptre of some king, and bellowing at the top of his lungs; "Black Horse Courier! Black Horse Courier! Get all the news you could possibly want here!"

His gaze glanced towards Carnius as he saw him draw to a halt.

"Want a copy of the Courier, mister?" he asked. "Only a Septim."

"What's it reporting on today, then?" Carnius asked.

"What everyone's talking about," the boy said. "The island that's appeared in the middle of the Niben Bay."

"Island?" Carnius asked.

"Yeah," the boy replied. "It just appeared out of nowhere in the middle of the night, with this door on it, and nobody knows why. People are worried that it's another gate from when the Hero of Kvatch stopped them last time, but nothing has come out yet."

"Let's see a copy," Carnius said, interest piqued.

"Course, mister," the boy said. "One Septim, please."

Carnius reached for the purse at his belt, and realized that the only one he had was the pouch of rubies that Owyn had given him. He took one of the precious stones out of it and handed it to the boy, who frowned.

"I don't think I can change this, mister," he said.

"Just keep it," Carnius said. "I don't need it, anyway."

"Really? Thanks, mister," the boy said with a grin, handing over a rolled up copy of the Courier. "Wow. Have a good day. Thanks."

"Not a problem," Carnius replied.

He left, heading towards the Elven Gardens district, deciding to read the scroll over some lunch at the King and Queen. The bouncer at the doorway, a grizzled Orc who had once been an adventurer if his scars were anything to go by, nodded at Carnius as he passed through the door; his clothes may have been far simpler than that of most of the upper-class tavern's clientele, lacking as it was in jewellery and ornamentation, but it was clean and there was a sack of coin at his belt, and that was enough for the hulking Orsimer.

Eating here was somewhat of a guilty pleasure for Carnius, but as he ordered a platter of bread, cheese and a few slices of cured pork, he felt he needed a good lunch, and the inn served the best in the city. He waited at the table for his order and unfurled his copy of the Courier, tracing a calloused finger under each word as he read.

Niben Bay Mystery Door!

In a bizarre and alarming turn of events for the citizens of Bravil, the city finds itself to be the neighbour of a new landmass within the Niben Bay. The small island, no larger than fifty feet in size, is reported to have simply appeared in the middle of the bay at midnight with a flash of light, much to the surprise of the local residents. On the island itself, it is reported that a gateway, shaped like three faces, is the dominant feature, along with a number of plants that local experts from the Bravil Mages Guild have been unable to identify as anything belonging to Mundus. Fearing that it may be another incident similar to the attack that Bravil suffered during the Oblivion Crisis, Count Terentius dispatched a contingent of city guards and mercenaries to seal the area; while nothing Daedric has come out of the gate, the mercenaries who entered returned from their experience after having suffered some kind of severe shock, and reports say that their recollection of events beyond it remains somewhat incoherent.

Commenting on the situation, Captain-

"Interesting read?" a voice asked from behind Carnius. The gladiator glanced up as the chair opposite him was pulled away and Her Ladyship sat.

"Interesting enough, I suppose," Carnius said, raising an eyebrow. "Can't say I expected to see you here, milady."

"I was here on some business of mine and thought I would stop off for something to eat," Her Ladyship replied. Behind her, Carnius could see her two bodyguards waiting nearby, the twins' hands resting on the pommels of their weapons "And who should I happen to see other than my favourite gladiator enjoying some lunch of his own?"

"What sort of business?" Carnius asked.

"Oh, there have been one or two trade opportunities that have recently opened up here in Cyrodiil that my own estates and people could benefit from," Her Ladyship replied. "I'm merely helping the process along the way."

"That the sort of thing nobles usually do?" Carnius asked.

"Not typically, but the territory I rule over is rather unusual," Her Ladyship said. "I need to take a more active interest in its affairs in order to ensure that things run smoothly."

She snapped a finger at a servant girl, and glanced at Carnius as she hurried towards them. "But in all honesty, I'd rather give business a rest for the moment and simply enjoy some lunch with a good friend of mine."

"What can I get you and your friend, ma'am?" the serving girl asked, bobbing a curtsey as she reached them.

"Just a luncheon platter, if you may, with sliced chicken instead of the usual pork," Her Ladyship replied. "And some wine; do you have any good vintages in your cellar?"

"We have a few bottles of Surilie Brothers three ninety-nine, ma'am," the serving girl said. "Would that be acceptable?"

"Perfect," Her Ladyship said. "One bottle, chilled, and two goblets for Carnius and I. That will be all."

The serving girl curtseyed and hurried away to fetch her order, and Her Ladyship turned back to Carnius.

"Now, how has your time as Grand Champion been treating you so far?" Her Ladyship asked.

"Can't complain," Carnius replied, setting his copy of the Courier down on the tabletop.

"Can't complain?" Her Ladyship asked, raising an eyebrow. "You're the Grand Champion of the Imperial City Arena, with fame, gold, inns treating you to free drinks and hordes of women who are completely overwhelmed with admiration for you and you merely can't complain? You'll forgive me if I'm a little incredulous about that."

Carnius shrugged.

"Well, I suppose it's good," he said. "I'm pretty lucky to be where I am, after all."

"And yet now you're here, it isn't enough," Her Ladyship said. "Tell me, Carnius, what lies in store for you now that you're actually Grand Champion?"

"Training, the occasional match, that sort of thing," Carnius said. "What I did before, really."

Her Ladyship nodded.

"You were perfectly happy being a gladiator before you become Grand Champion," she said. "So why the sudden change in heart?"

Carnius was quiet for a moment, leaning back in his chair before he said; "I liked doing all this gladiator stuff back when I was working towards something. I had…I had purpose, a goal. Something to achieve."

Their conversation was interrupted for a moment as the serving girl Her Ladyship had talked to earlier set down a few trays with food, along with the bottle of wine in ice and a pair of goblets.

"Enjoy your meal," she said with a curtsey, disappearing a moment later to deal with a customer."

"Go on," Her Ladyship said, pouring a goblet of wine and passing it to Carnius.

"Well, now I'm here I don't really have anything to work towards. I've won," Carnius said. "I kind of feel like…what's that term sailors use? When there's no wind?"

"Doldrums, I believe," Her Ladyship said.

"That's the one," Carnius said. "Doldrums. It's like that. Before, there was a breeze, wanting to make it to Grand Champion, but now I'm actually the Grand Champion, it's gone. I'm just drifting. I don't have any direction now."

"There must be something for you to do, I'm sure," Her Ladyship said.

"Well, there's talk of getting the Arena over in Kvatch going again now that the city's beginning to get back on its feet," Carnius said. "I figured that I could probably help there; got experience in this, after all."

"I've heard much that same, but in all honesty, how long will that take?" Her Ladyship asked. "After all, they still have to worry about how well stocked their granaries are and if people are going to bother trading with them; the good people of Kvatch will have a few more pressing matters to deal with before they can make time for gladiators and circuses, I believe."

She took a sip of her wine.

"So," she said. "You want something better to do with your life, then. A new goal, perhaps. Why not simply leave the Arena and do something else?"

"Look, I've said before, it isn't like that," Carnius said. "You can't just up and go."

"I'm well aware of what you said, Carnius, but it simply makes no sense to me," Her Ladyship said. "It seems to me that it's for the best if you have yourself a fresh start, but you seem to be quite insistent on staying there."

Carnius shrugged, ripping a hunk of bread from the platter before him and taking a bite.

"Tell me, Carnius," Her Ladyship said. "Would you call yourself a free man?"
"What sort of question is that?" Carnius asked with a frown. "Of course I would."

"I see," Her Ladyship said. "Then it seems to me, Carnius, that for a self-proclaimed 'free man' you wear an awful lot of chains. You don't wish to leave the Waterfront despite the fact that it's a gods-forsaken pool of filth-"

"Hey!" Carnius managed.

"And you will defend said gods-forsaken pool of filth despite the evidence that piles up to paint it as such," Her Ladyship continued. "And you choose to linger at the Arena for no discernable reason even though it's clear that you are simply wasting your time there."

She shook her head.

"What in the name of all the gods that have ever been are you doing, Carnius?"

"And why do you care?" Carnius asked.

"I suppose it's because I invested a great deal of time and effort in you," she said. "And I've come to care about you as more than just a mere investment as well. But if you want to sit here in your doldrums and spend the rest of your life doing nothing of worth simply because you feel obliged to then I suppose there isn't much I can do about it."

Carnius shrugged as he chewed on a mouthful of salted pork and bread.

"Look," he said. "I need to stay here, alright? It's what's expected of me."

Her Ladyship was quiet for a moment, before she said; "Perhaps you are right, Carnius. All I'm saying is that you should keep your options open."

Her gaze fell on the open copy of the Courier that was resting by Carnius' plate.

"Speaking of openings, I see you've heard about that doorway and mystery island," she remarked.

"It's an interesting read, I'll give it that," Carnius said. "You think it might be another Oblivion gate like the ones that we got in the Crisis?"

"Call it a hunch, but I'm not certain," Her Ladyship replied. "There are no hordes of ravening Daedra spilling forth, for a start."

"Maybe," Carnius said. "Still, the people who did go through got a shock from something in there. Not sure if anybody else is going to be following through."

"I would beg to differ," Her Ladyship replied. "I have a feeling that there are going to be a great number of people doing quite the same thing."

"Really?" Carnius asked. "Who would that be?"

"Adventurers, I would guess," Her Ladyship said. "People seeking fame, riches and glory. But others too; those who want a fresh start, or run where people aren't going to follow, where they can leave their old lives behind. You always get souls like that."

Conversation turned as they ate and drank, meandering through various subjects, and Carnius found he was enjoying himself. Considering the vast gaps between their backgrounds, he had somehow felt that he and Her Ladyship would have no common ground. But despite this, the conversation was enjoyable, flowed on its own accord and Her Ladyship seemed to be having an equally good time. If anyone from his local home on the Waterfront could see him now they would either be amazed or outraged.

"I'm afraid I really must be leaving," Her Ladyship said some time later, just as she was finishing the last of her wine. "As much as I've enjoyed talking to you there is still a good deal of business that needs attending to."

She smiled at him as she stood.

"We should meet up again, sometime," she said. "I'll send a courier to find if you if I'm in the Imperial City again."

"Of course," Carnius said, heading towards the door. Her Ladyship fell into step behind him, her two bodyguards following behind. "I'd like that, I reckon."

He pushed open the door, and allowed Her Ladyship through into the street. She waited for him on the pavement for a moment as he stepped through.

"Well, I suppose this is where we part ways," she said. "I hope you find some kind of calling, Carnius. I really do."

"Thanks," the gladiator said. Her Ladyship curtseyed him with a smile that seemed to mock what she was doing, and swept away up the street. Carnius watched her go for a few moments. Then he returned back to the inside of the King and Queen, found their table and picked up his copy of the Black Horse Courier so he could do some more reading on this doorway.

[McBadgere]

...

A fine feast you return with m'friend!!...

Amazing stuff!!...

Loved the fight at the start...Nicely done...

And agains withs thes mysterious womanses!!... ...

Absolutely brilliant writing...Love it!...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds most heartily*...

Oh yeah...

This...

There's scratching. Scratching in the walls. I don't know what it is. I don't know why there is scratching. Nobody told me that there would be this damn scratching.

I listened. Put down my quill, halted this chronicle, something dangerous in itself (don't tell them, please. They'll be angry with me. We can't let that happen) and listened against the walls. There is a scraping, a gnawing, a scratching, something eating away at them. It must know I'm in here.

Oh no. Please, if you're reading this, send help. Send help, stop it before it gets in!

But the chronicle…the chronicle must continue.

Must write it or they'll see I've stopped…

Was just amazing, made the hairs on the neck and all that...

Brilliant return matey...*Bows*...

[Colonel Mustard]

Thank you, good sir McBadgere! Very pleased that you're enjoying this once more and I'll do my best to make sure that my future posts are somewhat less tardy.

Glad I managed to get that opening part suitably chilling, as that was exactly what I was going for; yay for unnerving and mysterious subplots!

P.S. I am also completely unable to say 'And agains withs thes mysterious womanses'. All that it's achieved is me lisping all over the place and me getting a few funny looks from my mum.

[Zalphon]

This is a very fascinating story. The level of detail you use truly makes the world feel real. Even the fight with the Dreugh was riveting. Hopefully Carnius goes and investigates this strange, new island (I'd truly be surprised if he didn't judging by the name of the story).

[Colonel Mustard]

Actually, I'm planning on having the rest of the story detail how Carnius decided not to go and instead lived a largely unfilling life of empty fame and this actually has nothing more to do with the Shivering Isles whatsoever.

And I'm pleased that the details are working; whenever I write stories in video game worlds I always try and add as many of them in as I reasonably can in order to bring them to life more than the games do, as I don't have the same restrictions as a game does.

[Colonel Mustard]

MOAR!!


Chapter 6-Through the Looking Glass

The last person that Carnius wanted to see at the moment was down in the Bloodworks as he entered them. Practising a feint of some kind with his huge scimitar, Ta’Xarna’s pads were skittering and hissing against the stone floor as he moved on the balls of his feet as he swung the curved blade with a whoosh of movement. He saw Carnius and grinned, bringing the blade up so that its tip pointed towards the ceiling.

“Carnius!” he called. “I did not expect to see you here just yet. What are you doing?”

“Just getting some things of mine,” the gladiator replied. “Don’t mind me.”

Ta’Xarna shrugged and went back to his practise, slicing a figure of eight in the air before him as he whirled the scimitar around. Carnius let him work, heading to the chest and mannequin where his things were kept. His first action was to slide his champion’s raiment off its place on it rack, and place it into the pack he had dumped at his feet. Noticing what he was doing, Ta’Xarna halted his practice, frowning at Carnius.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

Carnius paused as he unlocked the chest that stored his gauntlets. He had really been hoping to avoid this conversation.

“Getting some things together,” he said, not looking up at the Khajiit.

“And putting them into a backpack,” Ta’Xarna said. “You are travelling?”

“Yeah,” Carnius said. Overhead, noise muffled by the thick stone, he could hear the faint, dull roar of a cheering crowd. “I’m going away for a while. I’m not sure how long, yet.”

“Leave?” Ta’Xarna asked. “But you are Grand Champion.”

“And that’s why I want to leave,” Carnius said.

“But you can’t just go,” Ta’Xarna protested. “The Arena needs its champion. And you’re that champion.”

Carnius shook his head.

“That’s the problem,” he said. “Look, what does every gladiator here, every pit dog and brawler and all the others want to do once they join up?”

“Become Grand Champion, of course,” Ta’Xarna said.

“Exactly,” Carnius said. “And here I am. Grand Champion. I’ve achieved the goal, I’ve won, I came out on top, and I hate it.”

This earned him a raised eyebrow.

“Why?”

“For a start, I had to kill Agronak,” Carnius said. “And as much as I’ve been trying to put that behind me I’m still having trouble doing that when I have to come in here every day and see where he used to be. And now I’m here, I’ve got no goal. Nothing keeping me here. I’m just going to have to sit around and kill time until somebody kills me. I need a fresh start, Ta’Xarna, and I need to go somewhere where nobody will try and follow me. I need to do something new.”

Ta’Xarna was quiet for a few moments, before he said; “Khajiit thinks he sees.”

“You do?”

“Think so,” Ta’Xarna said. “And Khajiit does not think he could stop you if he wanted to.”

“Alright,” Carnius said. “Thanks, Ta’Xarna.”

“It is no problem,” the Khajiit rasped. “You are good friend for Khajiit.”

Carnius extended a hand, but Ta’Xarna simply grabbed him in a hug, a tuft of fur on the tips of his large ears brushing against Carnius’ cheek. The Grand Champion nearly staggered before he hugged Ta’Xarna back. It was broken a few moments later.

“You will be coming back, yes?” the Khajiit asked.

“Honestly, I’ve got no idea,” Carnius said. “Maybe.”

“Then where are you going? Khajiit might need to find you.”

“That doorway in the Niben Bay,” Carnius said.

“The one that the Courier says has that strange land behind it that drives people mad?” Ta’Xarna asked. “Are you sure?”
“As I said,” Carnius said. “I need a fresh start. I’ll see what I can make of that place.”

“If you are certain,” Ta’Xarna said. He shrugged. “I wish you the best of luck, my friend. And you will be welcome back here in the Arena if you decide to return, of that I will be certain.”

“Thanks, Ta’Xarna,” Carnius said with a smile. “I’ll miss you, my friend.”

“And me you,” Ta’Xarna said. “Now go, my friend. Go and visit the land that makes everybody go mad. Perhaps Khajiit will follow one day; he would fit in nicely.”

Carnius grinned at him, placed his gauntlets into his backpack and left.

- - - - - - -

The journey to Bravil had been a pleasant one, in its own, rather unexciting way. Carnius had taken one of the Imperial mail coaches that jolted and rumbled between the cities, delivering passengers and letters as they went, and had spent the last three days enjoying the journey. It was fairly slow, and while the two brawny carthorses that pulled it moved faster than a man could walk, it was certainly not a match for the speed of a single rider, and the horse of the Legionary that guarded it never had to move faster than a canter.

Along with the driver and the soldier guarding it, Carnius shared the ride with a young alchemist who had just graduated from the Arcane University and was visiting her aunt in the city, and a Nord with aspirations towards becoming a merchant. They were pleasant enough company, though Carnius was carefully vague about what he was doing, but much of the conversation was occupied by the doorway in the bay; the alchemist was determined to collect some of the samples of its bizarre flora to present to the university, but much of the talk was of the people who had returned from it in the past week, every one of them having been driven mad. That news had been almost enough to deter Carnius, but he was determined to see this through; for some reason that he couldn’t quite explain, he wanted to visit that door, to go through and see what lay on the other side. He was determined to.

The carriage rumbled to a halt at the gates of Bravil, where the bridge that linked the town to the rest of the land met the road. Carnius clambered down as the coach driver set about dealing with its cargo and the horses, staying only long enough to pay the man before he left.

To his east was nothing of interest to him, only hilly wilderness, but to his west the entire Niben Bay sprawled out before him, the vast expanse of water iron-grey as it reflected the cloudy sky. He could see an island sitting in the centre of it, sharing the water with a number of fishing boats that were scattered across the lake, bright light glowing from some unseen source on the miniature isle. At the bottom of the slope that lead down to the shore was a small collection of huts next to a pier, several rowing boats tethered to it.

On the porch of one of the huts, a Bosmer with greying hair was reclining on a rocking chair and smoking a pipe, and a single eye opened as he saw Carnius approach.

“Greetings, traveller,” he said with a nod to Carnius. “What do you need? Fresh fish? Bait and tackle? Line and hooks?”
“Actually, I was hoping I could hire a boat,” Carnius said.

“A boat?” the Bosmer asked. “What for?”

“I’m hoping to get to that island,” Carnius said, pointing out to the small chunk of land in the centre of the bay.

“Oh, you’re one of those, eh?” the bosmer asked. He pulled himself to his feet with a grunt of effort. “Well, if you’ve got a deathwish then I suppose it’s not my place to stop you. Be ten septims to ferry you across, Imperial.”

Carnius shrugged and handed over a small handful of coins to the Bosmer, who lead him along the pier to a rowing boat. Carnius slung his pack into its bottom and climbed in, the Mer following suit, pulling out a set of oars with wrinkled and calloused hands and setting a steady stroke to push them across the water. The journey only took a few minutes and lacked conversation, and the elf pulled the boat up next to a pontoon on the island, bid Carnius farewell and pulled it away back to the bay’s far shore.

A man in the uniform of one of the city’s guards was waiting for him, his sword sheathed and his helmet nowhere to be seen, and Carnius raised a hand to greet him as he approached. The air here was hot and damp, greasy with muggy warmth despite the clouds that hid the sun, and Carnius could already feel sweat creeping down his neck.

“Hail,” the guard called as Carnius approached. “You’re here for the doorway, I’m guessing.”

“That I am,” Carnius said. He frowned as he saw that the guard’s blade was made from barbed and bladed ebony, no doubt Daedric in origin. He wondered where he got such an expensive and rare weapon from on the mere pay of a watchman.

“Thought so,” the guard said. “You’ll want to talk to Captain Prentus about that; he can fill you in. He’s just up the pathway.”

He gestured to a small path between two thickets of bushes whose long, vine-like branches had wound around each other to form ropes of some kind, tipped with flowers that somehow bore an unsettling resemblance to a grinning skull. To his left, what looked like a gigantic mushroom towered a good ten feet in the air, thick trunk twisted and contorted so its bulbous head faced down onto Carnius himself.

A buzzing sounded next to him as he walked up it, and he glanced over to see an insect hovering next to him, examining him with three faceted eyes, suspended in the air by a trio of wings that span around above its head. He waved at it and it darted away into the undergrowth.

Carnius stopped at a large canvas tent that stood on one side of the pathway, and glanced in. A couple of men in guard’s uniform were talking to each other and Carnius called; “There a Captain Prentus in here?”

“That would be me, friend” one of the guards said as he glanced up at Carnius. “What can I do for you?”

“I’m here about this doorway,” Carnius said. “I heard you could help me.”

“I see,” Prentus said. He glanced back at the other guard. “We’ll talk later, Gyrus.”

He stepped out of the tent, and nodded to Carnius.

“Walk with me, friend,” he said, setting out along the path. Carnius fell into step next to him as they headed up towards what looked like steps leading up to a stone platform. “What’s your name?”

“Carnius Hackelt,” Carnius replied. “Formerly of the Imperial City.”

“Captain Gaius Prentus,” the guardsman replied. “Just call me Gaius.”

“So, Gaius, what exactly is this doorway?” Carnius asked as they began to climb the stairs. “I mean, what does it look like?”

“See for yourself,” Gaius replied as they reached the top.

It was a statue, of sorts, carved from veined grey stone that was flecked with mold in the shape of three heads all conjoined at one eye in a manner that made Carnius’ skin crawl. At its centre where the edge of the two outermost foreheads met was a cleft, as if an axe had been driven through the crown and the water stain that flowed down from the divide’s nadir was a trail of blood. Each bearded face held a different expression; the left a mirthful smile, the right a vicious snarl and the centre was opened in a scream or a roar, a bright ball of soft-edged light glowing from it. As Carnius looked up at the central pair of eyes, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the carven pupils were staring at him.

“There it is,” Gaius said. “It appeared about a week and a half ago, now, and me and the rest of the Stonetakers were sent by the Count himself to guard it.”

“Stonetakers?” Carnius asked.
“We earned that name in the Crisis,” Gaius replied. “We had to fight our way through an Oblivion Gate that was threatening Bravil, took the Sigil Stone that was sustaining it.” He tapped the head of spiked mace of black and crimson steel that rested at his belt. “I took this mace here from a Dremora Lord, of all things. But we’ve been guarding this place to deal with anything that tries to come through.”

“And what has been coming through?” Carnius asked.
“So far, only the people who went in,” Gaius said. “And none of them have been right in the head when they come back.”

“I heard as much,” Carnius nodded, looking at the gate. There was greenery on either side of it, he saw, the left’s dominated by garish and bright flowers, the right by large, drooping mushroom and fungi, all of those a dismal grey-brown in colouration. “Nobody’s come back sane?”

“Not one,” Gaius replied. “We generally get the more harmless ones off the island and to the local chapel where someone can look after them, but the violent ones have to be dealt with rather more severely. Doesn’t help that half of those ones seem to all be heavily armed mercenaries and adventurers.”

“I’m guessing that there are a lot of those,” Carnius said.

“A fair number,” Gaius replied. “There’s also been quite a lot of people who’ve come here because they feel like they’ve been…called.”

“Called?” Carnius said.

“That’s the only way I can describe it,” Gaius said. “A lot of people have arrived here because of some kind of compulsion; just turned up because they felt called to this place somehow. People looking for purpose, I’d say. A lot of them had no real idea why they were considering coming here, but felt they had to go anyway; there was a High Elf who had come all the way from Chorrol here just a few days ago, and he hadn’t even heard of the doorway. Just felt he had to go east for some reason, and found his way here.”

Carnius nodded.

“I’m guessing you’re going in there for the chance for gold,” Gaius said, glancing up and down at Carnius, clad as he was in his armour and carrying a backpack filled with supplies.

“Not quite,” Carnius said. “One of those ones hoping for a second chance, I guess. I just thought I’d go prepared.”

He tugged at the backpack’s straps.

“Well, no more time to waste,” he said. “I’m going in.”

“Best of luck to you in there,” Gaius said, extending a hand. “I’d rather you didn’t go in at all, but it isn’t really my place to stop you. If you have to, then I suppose you have to.”

“Thank you,” Carnius replied as he shook Gaius’ hand.

He bunched his hands into fists, the leather pads around the palms of his gauntlets creaking, set his teeth and headed into the portal’s yawning, hungry maw.

[Zalphon]

I am inclined to agree with him. Once you've achieved a goal that you've strived for, it really seems in a way like you're losing something. Maybe there should be a term for this... Post-Completion Depression?

Anyways, another good chapter I am eager to see where you take it.