Seven, An Aela & Ungarion Prequel Options

[King Coin]

Love the antics with the young Argonians.

Aela would not only make a great prospector, but also a very productive farmer too. I doubt she would do that either though. This little bit of construction work now, and then after the war will be as close as she gets.

Birthmarks on Valens? I’d say more like the mark of a Daedra. And he claims to not serve/worship her. Wonder if he’s truthful, or if Azura is just patient with her champions.

At least Meen-Sa and Aela were civil. Perhaps you did intend for her to be more antagonistic and I just didn’t pick up on it.

Loved the little show during the break. If nothing else, the wizard will be remembered fondly. Made me think a little of a young version of Gandalf visiting the hobbits.

[haute ecole rider]

As always you do a wonderful job of pulling us into what would otherwise be a boring interlude. Getting to know some more of the villagers and showing how the different members of the Seven "dress down" for work has been interesting. Somehow I am not surprised by Nashira's approach to bamboo harvesting - those diagonal slices leave excellent sharp stakes behind for our anticipated visitors!

Trying to picture the archaean's antics for the kids made me grin in delight. Normally those things seem so scary and impressive, to have one acting so foolishly and on a level that children easily understand is a real treat.

I suspect Meen-Sa may have a glimmer of an idea of how foolish and "wrong" her words may have been, especially for a water priestess. Ironic, as water conforms to its environment, she doesn't?

[Grits]

I loved the antics of Aela’s archaean. Ungarion’s show was just as enjoyable. I laughed when he pulled the live chicken out from under Hathei’s tail. I imagine that the chicken was also startled.

Valens’ mark of Azura and Seridwe’s impeccable grooming were wonderful details. This was a great episode. Time passed, work progressed, and we observed things about the characters that are consistent with what we already learned about them. The growing bond with the villagers makes everything the Seven do for them feel more personal.

[SubRosa]

Captain Hammer: Hammertime! Thanks for unearthing my said. Never trust those archaeans...

I am glad the monotonous work of preparing the defenses is not being monotonous. The rest of Chapter 2 is of a similar nature, showing the preparations for the upcoming battle, and the interactions of the characters during it.

I wanted to shed a bit more (moon or star)light onto the man of mystery. The birthmark seemed like a perfect means, as I recalled that in Morrowind the Urishailaku Shaman says about the Nerevarine that: "Some say he bore a moon-and-star birthmark."


Acadian: I am still laughing at the moon and starbucks tat. I guess that means Azura lives in Seattle?

I could not resist Seridwe showing off her statuesque frame in the work scenes. Like you said, nothing is worth doing, unless you are going to look good while doing it.


King Coin: I could not resist the impromptu comedy act by Rocky the Spirit. If nothing else to show that Aela has a sense of humor. You are right, I do not see her ever becoming a farmer or miner. Though her spirits would make either easy!

Remember a while back I said in the comments that it seemed that Valens doth protest too much about Azura? The birthmark is one more hint about his mysterious fate in the east.

It is funny you mentioned Gandalf. Though I do not think he was ever young! I did sort of have him in mind. The same with Johnny Depp in Benny and Joon, where he is doing a lot of Buster Keaton style physical comedy.


haute ecole rider: I did have those sharpened bamboo stumps in mind with the way Nashira was cutting. But that is also the way the sword master always seems to show off in the samurai movies too...

Water also seeks its level, so you never know about Meen-Sa...


Grits: Showing the growing bond between the Seven and the villagers is what Chapter 2 is all about. It is good to hear that it is working.


Previously On Seven: Our last episode found the Seven continuing their work on the village defenses. Aela found herself being watched by some of the village children, and had her summoned spirit put on an impromptu comedy show for them. Later during their lunch break Ungarion also entertained all with card tricks and sleight of hand. Finally Aela discovered from Ulpia that the mudslinging incident with Meen-Sa was not widely circulated.


Chapter 2.7

Aela finished digging the ditch that day. As she predicted, Valens reminded her to dig out that little landbridge she had left for moving the cut bamboo into the village. He seemed impressed with her work however, and they took a tour of the breastworks before nightfall. He even approved of how she had set the timbers of the wall to alternate between chest height and head height, like a crenellated parapet on a castle. She knew from experience that the higher sections would give the defenders refuge from missiles, while the lower ones would give them gaps through which to attack with their own bows or spears.

"It would have taken hundreds of men to dig this out in the time you did it. Not to mention to reset the timber wall. I'm impressed." Before Aela could let the words of praise go to her head however, he continued. "Tomorrow you can dig that tunnel between the distillery and the stable."

So the next day Aela found herself toiling within the bowels of Nirn, with only her night eye spell to see by. More than ever she was thankful for the archaean, who did not so much dig the soil out of the ground as shift it aside to create the passage. That made it unnecessary to cart wagonloads of dirt out of the ground. The spirit also took the local stones and blended them together into single, seamless pieces of rock. From these he created braces every six feet or so to prevent the ceiling from collapsing.

As the tunnel ran a much shorter distance than the moat, Aela finished her work by noon. She emerged to find Valens leading the effort to build shields from the timber they had felled in the previous days. At his direction the villagers cut the wood into planks. These they laid over one another in a criss-cross pattern of two layers, held together by fish glue. These half-inch thick cores were cut into round discs just under three feet in diameter. A hand grip was added to the interior, the edges were rimmed with rawhide, and the outside was faced in linen glued to its surface. Then finally each finished shield was treated with oil to waterproof it.

In the meantime Nashira continued hacking the bamboo stems they had collected into spears, poles and spikes for the frises, and punji sticks for the currently dry moat. The taciturn Redguard appeared to take the task as seriously as she did her duel in Bravil, and her face remained a mask of razor-sharp focus the entire time.

They took a break for a simple lunch of rice flavored with Argonian brown sauce - a fish sauce spiced with garlic, basil, and lemongrass. Talun-Lei showed them how to eat the meal with Argonian kuaizi sticks: two slender bamboo sticks held between the fingers and thumb in lieu of a fork or spoon.

The Argonian tried to teach them that is. Of all the other Seven, only Do'Sakhar was able to master using the sticks. The fumbling attempts of Aela and the others brought amused giggles and chuckles from the villagers. Aela imagined that she would have an easier time using her bare fingers, and like most of the others, she eventually surrendered and used a wooden spoon.

The next day Valens was training the villagers in the use of spear and shield. Only the children and the elderly were left out. Even old Hathei, who begged off the combat training, was dragged into the line by Rullianus. The Imperial pointed out that despite his age, the Argonian was still as fit and capable as a marsh croc.

Unlike the individual training that Valens had offered on The Niben Queen, this was something entirely different. Instead he taught the villagers to stand in line and form a shield wall. The first rank would kneel and ground their round shields. They were so tightly packed that the edges of their shields overlapped with those to either side. The second rank would then step right up beside the first and hold their shields high, so they filled the gaps left above and between the first rank's shields. The end result was a double row of overlapping shields that faced Valens, appearing as immovable as the timber wall surrounding the village.

The Nibenean tested the strength of the wall with a single kick from an ebony-armored boot. The entire wall collapsed under the blow, and the villagers fell hither and thither. Even those nowhere near the Nibenean's blow scurried away like mice. Valens was left in the aftermath, shaking his head in dismay. It was clear to Aela that the drill instructor had a great deal of work ahead of him…

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* * *

Do'Sakhar took a break from planting punji stakes in the ditch surrounding the hamlet. He climbed the dirt wall of the dry moat on hands and feet, frequently slipping in the loose soil. But once he had reached the top, the Khajiit easily scampered over the crenellated wall.

Settling down inside, he drew forth a short piece of bamboo bearing a single line of holes along its length. Taking out his carving knife, he cut a final hole in the shaft. Once he was satisfied it was just right, the Khajiit held the flute sideways to his lips, and blew a gentle flow of air through the instrument.

A soft whistle issued from the flute, like the sound of a bird. Working the key holes with the pads of his fingers, Do'Sakhar transformed the simple noise into a haunting melody. As he played, his memory fled back to his days as a cub, when his mother had first taught him the flute.

Thoughts of the Black Marsh, Agrigento, and Nagas fled from his mind. Do'Sakhar found himself sitting on his mother's lap outside their adobe home in Dune. The hot sun warmed his fur, and his tail danced in delight as his mother played for him.

"Let Khajiit play, mommy!" he cried, pawing for the slender flute in his mother's hands. The golden-furred Khajiit smiled back him, and obligingly lowered the musical instrument to his lips. Yet the sound that issued forth was anything but musical!

"Who farted!" his father laughed. He was tall and lean, with fur dotted by large dark spots. Today he wore his lamellar armor, and carried his sandcrawler bow strapped across his back. He bent down to lift Do'Sakhar in his paws, and the young Khajiit responded with a contented purr as his father held him to his shoulder. But in no time at all he felt himself lowered to the ground, and then it was his mother who embraced his father.

"It is time then Do'zhad?" she said with a dread in her voice that the cub could not understand.

"Aye Rinassi," his father responded grimly. "The tree-huggers have been drawn out near Castle Sphinxmoth. Today we shall finish them, and avenge what they did in Torval."

"Will the round-ears assist?"

"Nay, when do they ever get off their tailless rears and do anything, except collect taxes?" His father spat in the dust to emphasize his words. "Khajiit fight alone, as ever."

"Then be careful," Do'Sakhar's mother admonished. "Stay behind the shield-bearers, don't expose yourself, and don't be a hero. One father is worth any ten of those."

"Aye, aye woman," his father shook his head, then grinned. "And Do'zhad won't drink the water, or talk to strangers. Cannot Khajiit have any fun?"

"Just bring yourself home alive," his mother fretted.

"That is this one's promise," he declared. "And you my little cub, when Do'zhad returns from chastising those bark-biters, perhaps he shall teach this one to use the bow? Then Do'Sakhar shall become a real Khajiit warrior!"

"Yes father, yes!" Do'Sakhar cried.

"Until then, watch for sand scorpions, and defend the house," his father said. "You will see your father again in no time at all.

But of course Do'Sakhar never saw him again.

The sound of footsteps brought Do'Sakhar back to the present, and he opened his eyes to find a trio of children standing around him. One of them - an Imperial boy of roughly ten years - cradled a rattan helmet in his hands, and held it out to the desert warrior.

"These ones made this for you," a young Argonian girl declared. "It's like the ones our parents made today."

Do'Sakhar set down his flute, and lifted the helmet of hard, woven fibers over his head. He was relieved to note that they had even made holes on either side of the headgear for his ears to stick through. "I am certain this will serve this one well in the coming battle. Khajiit thanks these ones for their generosity."

"Oh, you don't have to thank us," a second Imperial boy declared. "We drew you."

"These ones… drew Khajiit?" Do'Sakhar wondered aloud.

"Yes," the Argonian replied. "All of us kids in the village drew lots, to see which of you we would get."

"We got you," the first Imperial boy said. "I'm Luka." He pointed to the other Imperial, "that's Dellius." Finally he indicated the Argonian girl, "She's Teegla."

"Do'Sakhar sees," the mercenary said, wondering what on Nirn they were talking about? "And now that these ones have Khajiit, what shall they do with him?"

"When you die, we'll put flowers on your grave!" Teegla declared with pride.

"And we'll keep it clean, so weeds don't grow over it," Dellius said resolutely.

"Well now, that is a great relief to Do'Sakhar," the Khajiit warrior smiled. "But this one hopes he would not disappoint too much, if he were to survive?"

"Oh, we'd be just as happy if you lived!" Teegla agreed.

"Well, almost," Luka said.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Oct 28 2013, 11:58 PM

[Grits]

Ooooh, another advantage of spending time with the defense building is that we’ll be able to picture it clearly without a lot of description when the fight comes. *takes notes*

Ugh, the tunnel-digging sounds horrible! Not only under dirt, but under wet dirt. I was kind of gasping for breath during that part. Though I suppose Aela’s dirt and water spirit friends make her more comfortable. Even if not physically. The archaean concrete was awesome!

I really liked Do’Sakhar’s part. The memory of his father going off during the Five Year War and not returning added a layer to the kids’ plan to look after Do’Sakhar’s grave. I wonder if his dad’s grave gets tended, or is even marked.


"Oh, we'd be just as happy if you lived!" Teegla agreed.

"Well, almost," Luka said.

Luka’s remark sounded very real. Trust a kid to say the thing he thinks without regard for how it sounds!

[haute ecole rider]

I could echo what Grits said about this latest installment.

While reading Aela's time underground, I had flashbacks to scenes from my other favorite movie -- Charles Bronson digging out Tom, Dick and Harry and the challenges those POWs faced in digging in sandy soil. Aela should at least be grateful for that much! I imagine it would be more difficult to make concrete arches out of dry sand than it would out of swamp mud.

I really enjoyed the glimpse into Do'sakhar's POV - it was tun and interesting. However I noticed that his parents did not speak in the third person as Do-sakhar does. It it because they spent more time around Imperials and picked up the tailless folk's way of speaking? Or is there another reason for this? I am curious to find out - will we?

Totally loved the interaction between the kids and Do'sakhar. Though I thought Korean grave mounds were grass-covered? They were kept clean of weeds, watered and fertilized so a nice cover of grass would grow. Not that you have to use this model, but as so much of the village culture is borrowing from the SE Asian cultures, I keep thinking of something like this.

[King Coin]

The reward for a job well done is more work.

Those poor Argonians and their frail shield wall. They have a lot more work to do before they will be able to defend themselves from the Naga.

An unexpected, but welcome shift of perspective. His memories were interesting, and the interaction with the children enjoyable.

"Oh, we'd be just as happy if you lived!" Teegla agreed.

"Well, almost," Luka said.

This actually had me laughing!

[Acadian]

Rocky is such a wonderful help for digging that tunnel!

Punji sticks! I wonder if the Seven will dip them in Argonian brown sauce troll dung? Quite a defense they’re building! Speaking of sticks, that was a fun scene with the chop sticks. They can indeed be frustrating to new users.

The shield wall was very neat in that it not only showed a great defensive tactic, but displayed the training necessary to have it stand up against a determined foe (or ebony boot in this case). Aela is right, Valen has plenty of work ahead of him.

"Do'Sakhar sees," the mercenary said, wondering what on Nirn they were talking about? "And now that these ones have Khajiit, what shall they do with him?" - - This was such a wonderful passage within a completely delightful little aside involving the tiger-striped Khajiit. Like Rider often does, you used the 'flashback' technique very well for showing us a memory from his childhood. We learned much about both him and the village’s children here.


Nit?
‘But of course Do'Sakhar never saw him again.
But of course he never saw his father again.’ - - Is this redundant or did I simply miss something?

[Captain Hammer]

"Well now, that is a great relief to Do'Sakhar," the Khajiit warrior smiled. "But this one hopes he would not disappoint too much, if he were to survive?"

"Oh, we'd be just as happy if you lived!" Teegla agreed.

"Well, almost," Luka said.

Oh Luka, you rapscallion, you. This is the point where Do'Sakhar should mention that he's putting Luka on The List in case he gets an opportunity. Childhood innocence is such a precious thing, and turning it around with such a simple thing as A List is one of the few things that is as hilarious.

So, Aela and her Archaean are busy bothering the mole people and recovering buried saids from under the village, which, as you pointed out, is more of the stuff that goes into an actual battle but never quite seems to get as much in the spotlight as the other parts of the story. I'm glad to see you depicting this, with all the architectural and engineering rolls a skilled Wizard should have, but never seems to use (seriously, lots of D&D campaigns, rare for the party wizard to roll those skills. The rogue would, but not the wizard).

I cannot act surprised that the shield wall collapsed so quickly. The villagers are lucky. If a professional pilus prior with bit of a bigger shouting streak (think: Angry Julian!) was there, they'd probably be wanting to tear their ears off after that.

So, Do'Sakhar's father was in the Five Year War. More and more, you weave the background events of the late Third Era into your narrative with skill and flavor. I wonder, though, whether Do'Sakhar is still trying to make his father proud of the warrior that he grew to become. That will be interesting to see.

[SubRosa]

Grits: I am just hoping that everyone does not forget all of the description I put into the village during these scenes! That is the only problem with laying the groundwork ahead, so to speak.

Archaean concrete just sprang into my mind as I was writing, and realized that there would be a need for braces. Necessity is indeed the mother of invention.

Do'Sakhar's part was very rewarding to write. I was originally going to only do the part with the children. But as I began to write, I realized that I wanted to show something more of his past, and why he has the attitudes he does today. I never really thought about his father's grave. Since the Khajiit won that battle (described in Mixed Unit Tactics), it stands to reason that his body would have been recovered. So he should have a grave in Dune. Assuming Khajiit bury their dead. That is something I never thought of either. Maybe they cremate them?


haute ecole rider: I did not realize how Imperial the Khajiit's speech sounded in the flashback. It is just an example of how much a pain in the rear I find writing the third person style dialogue. I am glad you mentioned it, because I went back and edited it to sound more third person.

I never really thought about grave mounds and what the Argonian/Agrigentan custom might be. We know the Imperial's seem bury their dead from the graves we see in Oblivion. Same with the Nords in Skyrim. But I never really considered what the Khajiit or Argonians might do.


King Coin: A mage's work is never done. Aela does not even get to work with the others. She's exiled to the pits to toil alone...

The kid's dialogue is inspired by The Magnificent Seven. A group of local kids 'adopted' Charles Bronson's character, and had a similar response to his suggestion that he might not die. It was one of those things that I took notes about to put into Seven as an homage.


Acadian: Do'h! That double sentence was a leftover of some editing. Thanks for catching it!

Where would Aela be without Rocky? Sweating it out with a shovel most likely. I am so glad that I was able to make spirits such varied and useful creatures in this story. I think they really came into their own as something other than a means to kill bad guys.

That little flashback was indeed inspired by hot collie's outstanding use of little flashbacks to build character's stories. I learned a lot about that from her writing.


Captain Hammer: One of the things that always disappointed me about RPGs is how they often depict magic in purely terms of how it can be used as a weapon. Rarely have I ever seen games explore the 'civilian' applications for magic, like in construction, transportation, textiles, agriculture, and so on. One of the things I like about writing is it gives me the chance to think about how people would apply magic to their everyday lives and make them better.

I did briefly think of drill sergeant Hartmann/R. Lee Ermey in that shield wall scene. But I want Valens to come across as a different kind of trainer than the shouting sergeant. For him drill sessions are actually when he becomes more personable, and less surly. Though obviously it does not lessen the frustration...

The History Channel's Vikings show had an outstanding depiction of a shield wall in action in one of their early episodes. It was very heartening to see something like that on television.

That is a good eye to Do'Sahkar's motivations. I think his father's ghost is never far from him, for good and for ill. For example, he chose to eschew the life of a 'regular' person and became a wandering warrior instead. Perhaps he never could lead an ordinary life?


Previously On Seven: Our last episode found Aela digging out a tunnel between the brewery and the stable, with her summoned archaean doing the real work of course. Topside, Valens led the villagers in making round shields with the wood that had been felled in previous days. In the meantime Nashira and others made simple spears from bamboo shafts. Valens then began training them to fight in a shield wall. In a second scene Do'Sakhar took a break from planting punji stakes in the bed of the ditch surrounding the village. He finished carving a flute, and as he played, his mind went back to the last day he saw his father. It was during the Five Year War, when the Khajiit fought the Bosmer outside of his home city of Dune. His father was one of the few Khajiit casualties that day. He was interrupted by a group of village children, who gave him a helmet they had made of wicker. The kids explained that they had all drawn lots for which of the Seven they were responsible for, and told Do'Sakhar that they would tend his grave after he died. The Khajiit hoped that they would not be disappointed if he survived...


Chapter 2.8

"Will this work for making your potions?"

Aela smiled as she looked over the black lacquered alembic and its attendant jugs and pots. It was far larger than she would normally use for making potions. The alembic itself stood several feet high, and sat upon a simple oven created by a stone cradle with an open space beneath for firewood. Likewise the terra cotta pots and jugs would hold gallons of liquid, not the usual sipfulls one normally brewed.

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"It's a little big, but I think it will work," Aela judged. "I'll just make it all in one big batch. Thankfully I gathered a lot of dragon's tongue and fly amanita yesterday afternoon. I can start making healing potions with those. I saw bog beacon and green stain mushrooms on the walk here. Maybe tomorrow I can gather some up and make a batch of shield potions, and another of restore fatigue potions."

"I am afraid we probably do not have enough bottles to go around to put it all in," Ulpia spread her hands out. "I suppose we could just keep each in a different jug."

"Just so long as no one mistakes them for soju, and drinks them all!" Aela winked.

"The Nine forbid!" Ulpia laughed. "Why don't you come in and have some tea before you get started?"

"I was hoping you would say that," Aela admitted. Ever since she had sampled some of the Imperial's Argonian White Tea, she had been thinking of little else every time she took a drink.

Like Rullianus' abode, Ulpia's home was a sparely furnished affair. It was laid out in the same manner, with an area for sleeping mats in the back, hearth and kitchen in the center, and living space by the front door. Aela noted that unlike Rullianus, Ulpia kept a small case of books. She noted several alchemical volumes, a few on history, and finally a dozen novels by Juno Austenius and others. Her eye also noted that there was only one sleeping mat rolled up in the back of the home. Ulpia lived alone.

"I read many of these books at University," Aela thought aloud, "that one by Sinderion, and Grognak's Regional Guides."

"Those were my father's," Ulpia said from where she sat at the hearthstone, where she struck up a low blaze. The Imperial filled a simple iron teapot with water and set it on a metal grill above the hearth. Then while the water heated, she produced a pair of worn clay cups and a jar of crushed tea leaves. "He was one of the original founders of Agrigento."

"So yours is a new settlement?" Aela lifted an eyebrow in surprise.

"Yes," Ulpia admitted. "Well relatively. Our parents came here from the Imperial City over three decades ago. They were joined by many Argonians when they reached the Black Marsh, and together they created Agrigento."

"That is quite a change," Aela said. "To go from the Imperial City to here."

"You mean from the cosmopolitan heart of the Empire to the middle of nowhere?" Ulpia said. "Perhaps not quite as much as it might seem. My parents - and the other founders - were not rich. They were all proles. They scraped up every last drake they could save, or steal, for the journey. The same was true of the Argonians. They were all remanless: outcasts, refugees, and others with nowhere to go. For them, Agrigento was a chance for a new start."

"They did well for themselves," Aela said honestly. She had seen the slums of the Arena district while she had attended the University, and worse, the degradation of the Chamber Pot. A little farming village like Agrigento had its charms compared to such places.

"So where did the soju come into it?" Aela wondered.

"My father had worked in a brewery," Ulpia said, "sweeping, carrying jugs, things like that. But he paid attention to what the brewmasters were doing. When he got here he learned of the Argonian's native drink. Since they had the rice, he started making it with that cookery behind the house. One thing led to another, and eventually they had sold enough soju to buy the copper for one vat. That brought in the money to build another vat, and so on."

"It sounds like Zenithar truly blessed you," Aela said. Yet she could not tie that story of prosperity to what she saw when she looked around the simple interior of the Imperial's home. The Agrigento in Ulpia's tale seemed to have nothing in common with the one she resided in.

"He did, until the Nagas came," Ulpia frowned. "They took everything. I used to have a lovely ceramic tea service painted with cranes. Now I just have this old junk."

Ulpia opened the lid of the teapot with a bunched up cloth, and a steady line of steam rose up from it. "That is good," she said absentmindedly, "almost boiling." Lifting the pot from the grill, she laid it aside on the hearth stone. Then she set a chipped infuser into one cup, added tea leaves, and poured hot water within. The Imperial spent a few minutes gently raising and lowering the infuser to swirl the leaves around. Then she did the same with the second cup.

She offered the first cup to Aela, who took a tentative sip of the hot liquid. The Breton found the delicate, slightly sweet taste of the tea to be a wonder on her tastebuds. The Imperial led her to a pair of chairs near the front door, with a small round table between them, all of rattan.

Aela leaned back in her chair with cup in hand and relaxed. "This is lovely," she breathed. The Imperial accidentally brushed against her as she moved to the other chair, gently sliding her fingers through Aela's long brown hair. The other woman's touch felt as inviting as the tea, and Aela wondered if it had truly been by accident?

"So what happened to your parents?" Aela asked, glancing to the single sleeping mat. "I noticed that you live alone."

"My father died ten years ago," Ulpia said. "He was bit by a snake in the forest. By the time they had carried him back to the village, it was too late…"

"I am sorry to hear that," Aela said softly. She had expected as much, and decided not to pry any further.

"My mother…" Ulpia offered. "Well, I never really knew her. She left when I was just a few years old."

"Why?" In spite of her decision not to pry, Aela could not help but to ask. "Did she return to the Imperial City?"

"I don't know," Ulpia sighed. "One night while we were sleeping she just packed her things and left. We woke up in the morning and she was gone. I have no idea why she left, or where she went to."

"That must have been very difficult," Aela said honestly.

"I suppose," Ulpia shrugged. "Like I said, I was so young, I barely even remember her at all. I just grew up…, how I grew up. But what about yourself? How did your family take your being ardhanari?"

"In a word: badly," Aela stared into her cup. "I was born in High Rock, and people like myself are no more welcome there than in Cyrodiil."

"Do you face a lot of trouble because of it?" Ulpia set her cup down on the table between them, and let her hands linger there.

"Sometimes," Aela admitted. She brushed an errant lock of hair from her face, and followed the Imperial by setting her cup down on the table as well. "There always seems to be someone who notices, and cannot live without reminding me how of how wrong it is for me to exist."

"That must be frustrating," Ulpia breathed. Her fingers reached out ever so slightly, and brushed against Aela's. "Some people can be so provincial."

"Well, it is nice to meet someone who is not," Aela let her fingertips gently caress those of the other woman.

Aela's heart was a hammer in her chest, and she had to fight to keep her breath calm and even. Was Ulpia really interested in her, that way? Did she feel that way about the Imperial? It had been so long, she could hardly remember what romance was like.

"Well, I look at you, and I see a woman." Ulpia drew her hand away. "I did not even realize what you are at first. But even after I did, I cannot say it really changed much."

"It changes a lot of things for most people," Aela frowned.

"What about Ungarion?" Ulpia asked innocently. "The two of you are… close, are you not?"

"Ungarion and I?" Aela mused. "He's my best friend. He has been since we met at University."

"So he's..."

"Just a friend," Aela insisted. "Once upon a time we were…, but that was a long time ago. He's not interested in women. And I have never really been interested in men."

"Really?" Ulpia seemed to mull that over for a while, prompting Aela to continue.

"So what about yourself?" the Breton asked. "With all of the men around here, is there someone special?"

"No," Ulpia said, crossing her arms in front of her, "not really."

Aela resisted the urge to lift an eyebrow. Not so much what the Imperial had said, but from what had been left unsaid. Ulpia looked to be nearly thirty, an age which few Imperial women seemed to reach without becoming married. On one hand Ulpia appeared to be almost screaming that she was sapphic. But on the other hand, Aela had been wrong before. She of all people realized that no one was entirely what they appeared to be...

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Nov 2 2013, 01:29 AM

[haute ecole rider]

Lovely continuation!

First, let me get the nit out of the way:

"They took everything. I used to have a lovely ceramic tea service painted with cranes. Now I just have this old junk.

I think you're missing the closing quote there.

Now on to other things. When I looked at the screenie, my mind shouted KIMCHI POTS!! Yup, they made kimchi in pots very much like those, buried in the backyard. My Korean friend actually made daikon kimchi for me, and I loved it! Of course, I enjoy vinegary things, pickled food, and the hot radishes just made it all sublime for me. Now I have to go to Korea and find the traditional foods there!

Your description of the tea brewing is pretty spot on - tea is best when brewed for short periods. Want all the flavor without the bitterness (tannins)? Use lots of tea and brew for very short times. I do boil my water, but then I let it come down a bit. White and green tea (I assume that's what Ulpia made - green tea?) require the lowest temperature, black tea the highest (just at boiling) and oolong in the middle. The lone item on my Xmas wish list this year is a water heater that heats water to temperatures that I select.

Loved the interaction between Aela and Ulpia. And yes, Aela should know full well that people aren't always as they seem!

[Grits]

This delicate dance between Aela and Ulpia was a pure joy throughout. Ulpia’s grace with the tea service made the perfect setting for their conversation. I imagine her carefully thinking through her next words and actions as she patiently infused the tea.

Aela's heart was a hammer in her chest, and she had to fight to keep her breath calm and even. Was Ulpia really interested in her, that way? Did she feel that way about the Imperial? It had been so long, she could hardly remember what romance was like.

I love the confusion that comes with Aela’s rush of feelings. How very true!

[Acadian]

Loved Ulpia’s library, with its nod to such famous folk as Sinderion and Jane Austen Juno Austenius.

You did a fabulous job of keeping hands busy brewing hot tea, while filling heads with more of Agrigento’s history and speeding up hearts with uncertain and tentative flirtations.

So Agrigento was formed by the Remanless Outcasts. That sounds like a bonzer name for a head-banging, tail-thumping rock band!

[King Coin]

Oooh, Aela’s met someone interesting. And lonely.

Funny that an Imperial knows how to make the best Argonian tea!

So have the rumors spread, or is Ulpia observant? I’ve seen some women that look like men, and vice versa, and honestly the idea of transgender never entered my mind.

[ghastley]

So Agrigento was formed by the Remanless Outcasts. That sounds like a bonzer name for a head-banging, tail-thumping rock band!

Nobody hires Argonian musicians. They'll only work for scale.

"So what about yourself?" the Breton asked. "With all of the men around here, is there someone special?"

"No," Ulpia said, crossing her arms in front of her, "not really."

Now I read that "no-one in particular" as possibly meaning "any of them". But Aela's not going to know until...

[Captain Hammer]

So, more of the SubRosa-realism in the form of "Economic Structure of Tamriel" lessons.

Don't get me wrong, I enjoy it, especially the historical development of the town's soju manufacturing. It's a realistic and accurate way of modeling growth that you've put into your stories, a portion of the world-building that too few writers will employ. It's good stuff.

I'm interested to see how Aela and Ulpia move forward, and whether Ulpia happens to play for the other team, so to speak.

But mostly, I'd be perfectly happy if you included more of the Economics Theory. It creates a distinct world that identifies the Teresa-verse which carries through all your stories (and separates it from, say, my own interpretation of the game's mechanics of being more highly-industrialized to account for all those ebony and glass weapons I sell by the wagon-load every time I'm in a town big enough to buy the stuff off me).

[SubRosa]

haute ecole rider: Looks like Aela's archaean buried her closing quote there...

So those are called Kimchi pots? I had no idea. I found the picture when I was looking up traditional soju brewing. The tea brewing was also something I researched, since I am not a tea drinker. Thank goodness for the internet, it makes writing so much easier, since all of these things are a google away.


Grits: The tea seemed like an excellent setting/excuse for Ulpia to get Aela alone. The rest of that cautious dance is something I am all too familiar with. And just like in my own experiences, it ended with more questions than answers.


Acadian: I do not think Sinderion has any books in the game, but I could not resist promoting him to author as well as experimenter. He seems like the type who would publish his findings, at least in one form or another. Plus he is so well known and loved that I wanted a familiar name.

The cautious flirtation seemed like an ideal place to insert a history lesson about how Agrigento got started. It not only helped build the setting, but also gave some more time for Aela and Ulpia do dance around one another.

Maybe the Remanless Outcasts could do a double bill with the Bob Seger and Silver Arrow Band?


King Coin: I know it is going back years, but the Argonians don't like the Argonian White Tea. That was something that Morcant mentioned to Teresa waaay back Chapter 16 - The Temple of the TF. So I am sure only the Imperials drink it in Agrigento!

Ulpia knows that Aela is trans because she was sitting at the table in the Lonely Suitor when Seridwe said that she wanted in just to work with an Ardhanari. Given that she was staring at Aela the entire time, there was no doubt who she meant.


ghastley: Working to Scale - Nyuck, Nyuck, Nyuck....

I read that as not any of the either. But nothing is ever as simple as it appears...


Captain Hammer: I always like looking into the economic factors of a setting. People need to earn a living after all. Exploring how they do that is a great way to start building up how a society works, and what it values. I was thinking the soju would fit like a glove in Agrigento, because they are already growing the rice. So they have at least partial vertical integration. They even own their own wagons to transport the stuff. All they really need is their own storefront in a major city or two for complete integration of their product. But I don't see that happening.

We will have more Aela and Ulpia in a few episodes. It might be what people expect. Or not. Or both.


Previously On Seven: In our last episode Aela started working on brewing potions for the upcoming battle, using a set of kimchi pots that Ulpia owns. Over a cup of tea Aela learned that the pots were originally used by Ulpia's father to brew the first batches of soju in Agrigento. It turns out that her father and many others founded the village just 35 years ago, after emigrating from the Imperial City. He and all the others were poor, lower class people, with no futures in the IC. So to them Agrigento was a chance for a new start. Until the bandits came, they had been very prosperous, gradually earning enough money to steadily expand the soju enterprise over the decades. Aela also got the distinct impression that Ulpia was romantically interested in her, but could not be certain.


Chapter 2.9

Talun-Lei and Meen-Sa stood atop one of the hills ringing Agrigento's small valley. A field of white orchids stretched out around them, lending their sweet scent to the air. To the west, the setting of Magnus splashed a brilliant shade of gold across the horizon, drawing the gazes of both Argonians.

"So this one is Hathei's daughter?" Talun-Lei turned to the water priestess.

"Meen-Sa is," the water priestess said. "Hathei did not tell Talun-Lei and his companions this?"

"Nay," Talun-Lei shook his head. "That one never mentioned anything at all."

"Why is Meen-Sa not surprised?" The Argonian woman shook her head. "This one's father wanted her to hide when these ones arrived."

"Why?" Talun-Lei scratched the scales behind his head in confusion.

"This one's father feared that those who were hired might be little different from the bandits," Meen-Sa sighed.

"What if that had been so?" Talun-Lei asked.

"Stalks-The-Marshes would never bring such to our village," Meen-Sa stated plainly. "Nor would Ulpia. Besides, Meen-Sa's dowsing crystal told her that your warband meant these ones no harm as soon as they arrived."

"It did?" Talun-Lei eyed the curious arrangement of pendants that dangled from the other Argonian's wrist, especially the small flask of water that glowed with a soft azure light. "What does it tell this one of Talun-Lei?"

"It says that Talun-Lei is brave." One of Meen-Sa's hands slid across the male Argonian's wrist. "That his body is strong and fit, and that his heart is true."

Talun-Lei stood a little straighter at the compliments. Meen-Sa's words made him feel like he was taller, that his shoulders were wider, and his chest was deeper. He turned his arm so that her fingers slid into the palm of his hand. Moving it ever so slightly, he found her fingers intertwining with his own.

"It is unfair that this one can see so much with her powers," the Argonian observed, "while Talun-Lei is but a mortal Saxhleel."

"Good!" Meen-Sa smiled wryly. She briefly turned to watch the sunset, then looked back to the young warrior. "This is how it should be between males and females."

"Says the female!" Talun-Lei laughed. Then he turned seriously once more. "How did Meen-Sa become the water priestess?"

"It was always meant to be," Meen-Sa replied. "This one's mother was a water priestess before her, and that one's mother before her. Some day this one's daughter will also be a priestess after her."

"This one seems very certain," Talun-Lei noted.

"Our destiny is our destiny," Meen-Sa said plainly. "We are as the Hist made us. We can be nothing else, just as a turtle cannot be a serpent."

Talun-Lei thought about that, but said nothing in reply. He had left the rice fields of his home to make his own destiny as a warrior. Meeting the landstrider Aela had only proven to him that his fate was his own to make. Yet here he was back in the rice fields once more, albeit this time with a spear rather than a basket. Had the Hist preordained him to live and die in a rice paddy? Or was his future still his to make?


* * *

"I wish our fathers were brave like you," the young Imperial Dellius said.

"Aye, they have always bowed and scraped to the Nagas," Luka added. "I never thought they would fight."

"Khajiit does not want to hear that about these one's fathers!" Do'Sakhar said sharply. He stood with his tan-colored sandcrawler bow in hand, and a reed arrow set to the nock. Looking away from the target he had been shooting at, he cast his gaze down upon the children at his feet.

"This one wishes he had a father who was brave enough not to fight," the desert warrior went on. "It is easy to rush into battle. What is hard is swallowing one's pride, and thinking of one's family first, instead of one's cojones! Do'Sakhar wishes his father had that kind of courage. He wishes he did as well."

"But Do'Sakhar!" Teegla protested. "They run when the mercenary in black kicks their shields with his boots!

"That is because they want to live for you, you fools!" Do'Sakhar turned from the children and back to his target. Loosing the string, he watched as the arrow plunged across the empty space between him and the wall, and buried itself in the first ring around the bullseye he had painted there.

"Be thankful for your fathers," Do'Sakhar looked down at the children once more. "And your mothers. There are many who wish they were so lucky as these ones are."


* * *

As she did every morning, Nashira performed the Serpent dance. The kata alternated between drawing Barafu and striking with lightning speed, and quick, flowing movements to parry and riposte. She followed the intricate choreography around the empty space of the square, and for not the first time she felt more like a dancer than a swordswoman. Perhaps it was only steel that separated the two? In any case, by the time she was finished her muscles felt loose and limber, ready for a new day.

As she had every morning since arriving in Agrigento, the Redguard noted that she was being watched. This time the spy finally decided to approach her however. It was Rullianus, the young Imperial whose home she and the other Seven were living in.

"You're incredible!" the Nibenean proclaimed.

Nashira simply stared at the farmer. His was not the first compliment she had received, and might not be the last. Yet like all compliments, it was naught but empty air. Worse, she knew that if she ever actually believed them, her own doom would not be far behind. For pride always came before a fall.

"Will you train me?" Rullianus continued when it became obvious that the Redguard was not going to reply.

"Train you?" Nashira finally did speak. "What is wrong with the training Valens is giving you and the others?"

"It isn't with the sword," said Rullianus. "He's teaching us to fight in a mass. There's no skill to it! It's all about standing in place, or walking forward, or kneeling down, or walking backward. We're not learning anything!"

"That is how you fight in a shield wall," Nashira said bluntly. "Individual skill means little in pitched battles. It is all about how well you keep to your formation. Follow Valens' instruction, and you will live, and be victorious."

"But that's not enough!" the young Imperial's eyes glowed with a light Nashira had seen far too often. She could see that he did not care if he lived or died. Rullianus only wanted vengeance.

"It is more than enough!" Nashira snapped. "I will not teach you."

The Redguard turned away from the farmer, and began to walk away. She was stopped by a hand upon her shoulder. She turned to look at Rullianus, and then his hand. After a moment, the Imperial withdrew the offending digit, but not before he spoke again.

"Why not?"

"Because if I do, you will die," Nashira said. "Or you will live, and become the same as the Nagas. I will be responsible for neither."

"You," the Imperial cried. "This isn't about you. What about me? What about my life?"

"Get on with it," the Redguard said. "We all stumble, we all fall. Pick yourself back up again, and just live. Don't hide behind revenge. It will consume you like an endless sandstorm."

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Nov 12 2013, 11:43 PM

[Acadian]

What a great scene between Meen-Sa and Talun-Lei. Not only do we see more romance blossoming, but the sunset conversation did a magnificent job of peeking into why Meen-Sa is a rather firm believer in one is created by fate and changing that is not part of how she sees the natural order. The implications regarding how she might view Aela are inescapable. Wonderful job!

And another nice scene between Do’Sakhar and the kids. Like Meen-Sa, his views are strongly flavored by his own history – and we know the fate of his father.

Finally, you do an insightful job of ‘showing’ us more about Nashira. The Redguard seems keenly aware of the responsibilities that come with her talents. Still plenty of mystery about this Kensai Swordsaint. One gets the distinct impression that her views are forged by bloody experience.

In each of these three scenes, you did a careful (and successful) job of ‘showing’ us the messages you intended in a manner that was both natural, fitting and with a perfectly balanced touch.

[haute ecole rider]

OMG! OMG! Omo! Omo!

Each of these scenes really spoke to me for various reasons.

I loved the interaction between the two Argonians. I'm such a sucker for romance in the midst of a major crisis. Blame my early readings of Robert Ludlum and Robert Heinlein for that. In any case, this

his fate was his own to make.

really jumped out at me, as it echoes a line from The Terminator, when Michael Biehn was telling Linda Hamilton almost the exact same thing when they spent some quality time together in that motel room.

Then we move on to Do'sakhar and the kids, and I was hearing Charles Bronson again. Why didn't Do'sakhar smack that smart-mouth kid on his butt for making that remark about his daddy? Never mind, the dialogue alone was delightful!

Then finally Nashira. This whole exchange just proves to me that great minds think alike. Two years ago I wrote a character that wouldn't spar with other swordsmen because

“Once drawn against another, I do not sheathe this dao,” she raised her right hand holding the scabbarded sword, “until life’s blood is on the ground.” She lowered both her eyes and the weapon. “Either I die, or the other dies.”

Shiver me timbers! Nashira is sounding more and more like my Daejin!

Anyway, I totally enjoyed this installment, maybe just a little bit more than usual. And I agree about Google. As my sister says, "Thank God for the Internet." I'm actually using it as I write my Nanowrimo piece.

[Grits]

I loved Talun-Lei’s thoughts at the end of the lovely sunset scene between him and Meen-Sa. He’s still questioning even in the face of her authority and conviction. Perhaps dying with a spear instead of a basket in his hand is the fate he will make for himself. I enjoyed his introspection.

Do’Sakhar gave the kids some much-needed context for their parents’ behavior. They only know what they’ve seen, and now they might understand it a little better.

Nashira’s scene was great. I love how her advice to Rullianus gave some hints about her background but didn’t spell it out. It’s so engaging when characters give hints to ponder.