Cardonaccum, The beauty of a thistle. Options

[haute ecole rider]

@SubRosa: Of course I had to introduce a Redguard in this story! And as first mate, no less! I figured the Khajiiti are naturals for the above deck work, just as Argonians are invaluable for anything below the waterline, such as plugging leaks! I didn't have Horatio Hornblower in mind as I wrote Captain Solinar, but rather Captain Pellew. Easily one of my favorite characters from this series, because Robert Lindsay is that good. Doesn't hurt that he has the kind of craggy good looks I'm such a sucker for.

@Acadian: I hope this voyage continues to be a joy to read. I had a blast researching 12th and 13th century sailing ships (and a little bit later, too), and have so many more questions left to ask. But I am enjoying sharing what I have learned in such an entertaining manner. One of my favorite memories of my visit to Baltimore nearly 20 years ago was my venture out on a Tall Ship from the Inner Harbor, and my tour of the USS Constellation (scroll down to the part about the Second Constellation) being restored there. Both are much bigger and considerably more advanced than the cogs and caravels in this story, yet the experiences I had on these two ships were invaluable in writing these segments.

@Grits: I couldn't resist the little play on names for our Smiling Charlie. He comes off as so forbidding, I wanted to lighten the mood a little bit and show his fun side (yes, Karim has a fun side!).

The story so far: Lady Cora, Lieutenant Titus and Morna have embarked onto the Arpenmalatu, and have received their initial orientation. Their sailing education continues . . .

*****************
Chapter Thirty-nine

A cold breeze chased the Arpenmalatu out of Wayrest Harbor and down Iliac Bay. It came from behind our right shoulders, over the Ilessan Hills to the west. Morna shivered in the chill, even wrapped in our woolen winter cloaks. She spent as much time as possible in our room. As my seasickness worsened with the rough waves, I was initially grateful for her company, then resentful of her diligent performance of her duties.

“Madam,” Captain Solinar came in with breakfast on the second morning. “I am given to understand that you have eaten nothing since we left port?”

I struggled to sit up in the bed. “No, good C- Captain.” A wave of nausea surged into my throat as the savory scents of smoked boar and cooked eggs drifted up my nostrils. I pressed the back of my left hand against my face to block the odors as well as hold back the bile.

Captain Solinar set the tray on the desk. “Then allow me to help you,” he moved to sit beside my bed. “Do not think me forward, madam,” he laid his hand on my right wrist. “I have strong Restoration skills -“ Before Morna and I could stop him he sent a wave of white magic surging into my limb.

Instead of sending healing ease through me, the magicka only coiled within my body and turned cold and leaden in my stomach. My skin turned clammy as I writhed in acute discomfort. I managed to twist away from the Captain before gagging black fluid over the far side of the bed.

“Captain!” I heard Morna’s panicked tone as she reached for me. “Milady’s not tolerant of magicka!”

“Really?” Captain Solinar’s tone turned curious, but he touched me again. This time the residual energy that coiled within me dissipated as if sucked out through a hollow reed. I collapsed back on the mattress, gasping in fresh air. “I apologize, madam,” the contriteness in his voice felt real enough. “I hope it will pass.”

“It already is,” I answered, turning my blurred gaze on him as nausea made a victorious return. “But th- the seasickness persists.”

“What can I do to help, madam?” Solinar’s brown gaze held only concern, the same concern Siné showed her patients. “Would a healing potion help?”

I shook my head. “They only affect my t- taste buds, Captain.” Again I tried to sit up against my rebellious stomach. “Only contact with Nirn helps.”

Captain Solinar’s eyes slid to the newly installed mast that bisected the dividing wall between the stern cabins. “Is that why you were so interested in the color of that mast?” he asked. “Because it still holds something of Nirn?” He turned back to me. “If you are seasick, we must apply a different method of treating it. It manifests itself worst in the stern, belowdecks.” His gaze drifted around the small cabin. “As right here.”

“Then what d- do you recommend, Captain?” I asked.

“If you were to draw Nirn’s energy out of that mast,” Captain Solinar nodded toward the wall, “would it weaken the timber?”

I shook my head. “No, it only makes it more inert.” A study of the round wooden structural element helped me understand his concern. “I doubt it will break in a st- storm any more than the other two masts.”

Captain Solinar rose to his feet and held his hand out to me. “Then rise, madam, and take some of Nirn’s energy from the timbers of the Arpenmalatu.” He smiled encouragement at me. “Then we will proceed to the one spot on this ship where the sea will affect you the least.”

Though the ship’s heaving threatened my balance, I managed to swing my feet onto the floor and stand with the Captain’s assistance. Morna came to my side and draped my black cloak over my shoulders. Like a gallant courtier in the King’s palace, the Altmer offered me his forearm for the few steps to the mast.

Beneath my palm, the round timber creaked with the movement of the ship. I could feel both the quiet pulse of Nirn still beating within the wood, and the wind pushing on its sails high above us. My whirling stomach settled slightly, and I took a deep breath.

“Better, madam?” Captain Solinar asked, his eyes on me holding calm curiosity. I nodded silently. “Then let’s step outside, shall we?” He waved his free hand toward the door. I hesitated, glancing doubtfully at him. “General Talos is one of my best customers,” the Altmer seemed to read my unvoiced qualms, “and I would not do anything to betray his trust in me.”

Is he referring to the same kind of trust Lieutenant Titus has in General Talos? Or more the kind of trust between a common merchant and his customers—that the service provided will match the value of the coin given? I kept my thoughts silent and nodded for the Altmer to lead me outside. Morna followed behind me, quiet despair at facing the cold outside emanating off of her in palpable waves.

The wind took my breath away as we stepped onto the deck. Morna muttered a barely audible feminine invective and drew her cloak closer about her tall frame. The wooden boards beneath my bare feet creaked and heaved, while the immense sails above our heads snapped vigorously.

“Is there a s- spot on this ship where seasickness doesn’t rule?” I exclaimed softly as I held back another wave of nausea.

“This way, madam,” Captain Solinar led me midships. To my amazement, as we neared the center mast, the rocking of the deck beneath my feet subsided to a barely noticeable roll. Lieutenant Alorius turned from a murmured interaction with one of the Khajiiti crew. His sharp military appearance made me self-conscious of my own disheveled appearance.

“Good morning, madam,” Titus greeted me, waving me to sit on a crate. “Are you feeling better?”

“Not yet,” I answered. I lifted my eyes to Morna, who huddled miserably in her cloak. “C- Come, sit next to me,” I addressed my hapless maid as I made room for her. “How d- do you fight this evil affliction?” I turned back to Titus.

“The same thing you are doing,” he answered with a smile. “Don’t ask me how it works, he’s the expert,” he nodded at Captain Solinar.

“This is the one place on the ship where the pitch, roll and yaw of this ship is minimal,” the Altmer adopted a lecturing pose. Somehow I caught a whiff of self-deprecation in his tone. “Pitch is the movement about the ship’s center of gravity whence the bow,” he pointed at the forward part of the deck, “moves up and down like so.” I followed the direction of his finger in time to see the fore keel rise above the horizon. “The stern moves in the opposite direction of the bow,” Captain Solinar continued, extending his other arm in the opposite direction. As he held them out stiffly, the right arm pointing fore, and the left one aft, he demonstrated the up-and-down movement of the ship’s deck. “If you look at my shoulders, which are near the center, you’ll see that the up and down motion is minimal, compared to those of my hands.” He rocked his arms in demonstration, echoing the motion of the deck.

Morna listened in concentration, then lifted a hesitant hand. “And we are sitting where your head is, sir?”

Captain Solinar’s arms lowered involuntarily as he chuckled. “Yes, that is correct, young maid,” he smiled at us. His gaze shifted to me, and I nodded my comprehension.

“But good Captain,” I added, “the deck does not move only in the direction you showed us.”

“Yes, exactly!” Solinar snapped his elegant fingers. “There are two other directions this ship moves in as well.” Now he turned to face the bow and snapped his arms out to encompass the left and right rails of the deck. “This side-to-side motion is called the roll and is more pronounced when the wind blows to port or starboard.”

“Port and star-?” Morna repeated.

In response, Solinar lowered his right arm and pointed to the left rail. “This is the port side, to your left as you face the bow.” Now his arms traded positions. “And this is starboard.”

Morna twisted on the crate to face aft. “But now this is port?” She pointed to her left.

Captain Solinar shook his head. “That is still starboard, and this side is still port.”

I leaned to Morna. “It’s like the near and off side of a horse,” I murmured. “Doesn’t change if you ride facing the horse’s head or its tail.”

She leaned her head back in comprehension. “Of course!” she exclaimed.

I turned back to the patient Altmer, waiting with interest. “Please continue, good Captain.”

“And the last one,” Captain Solinar pointed at the mast behind us. “The boat also rotates around its central axis, as if it is spinning around this mast.”

Another wave of nausea reared its ugly head. I lifted a hand. “Um, good Captain, please don’t use that word.”

“What word?” Solinar frowned at me.

“I believe she means ‘spinning,’” Titus volunteered. “Was a time when just the thought of a spin would make me — ahem, well, you know.”

“Ah, I see,” Captain Solinar nodded. “Forgive me, madam,” he smiled down at us. Somehow, in spite of his great height, he lacked the air of condescension so often common to Altmeri. Rather, his expression held nothing but friendly humor. “I have not suffered this affliction for so long I have quite forgotten how pervasive it can be.”

A shout interrupted our lesson in fighting seasickness. Captain Solinar turned as one of the Khajiiti ran up to him and hissed something. I felt a faint sense of alarm, quite different from the nausea which had been plaguing me, but Captain Solinar’s demeanor remained calm. “Excuse me, ladies, Lieutenant,” his tone held only reassurance. “I must attend to our compass.” His gaze on me sharpened. “Ah, madam, I see that you are already feeling better!” His smile widened at the surprise I felt.

He is right! That horrid nausea is gone! I had been so engrossed in his explanation for the causes of seasickness that I had not noticed the subsidence of its signs.

“I have to agree with the Captain,” Karim’s voice reached us as he paused beside our seats. “You do look better, madam.” His expression remained inscrutable, however. “But he forgot to mention one more important thing.”

“What did he forget?” I asked. Karim waved his hand at the sea around us.

“Always keep your eyes on the horizon!” He pointed at the deck moving beneath us. “It is the only thing that does not move.” Then he was gone in the Captain’s wake.

“He’s got a point, you know,” Lieutenant Alorius spoke as I gazed after the first mate. “Somehow your eyes tell your body that that,” he pointed at the sea, “is not moving, and that settles the vertigo.” He smiled at us. “Once that happens, it’s just a matter of riding this ship much as one would ride a horse.”

I sighed. When one first learns to ride a horse, it is difficult and scary at first, especially when one does not know how the horse is going to move or react. I could remember my first few times on a horse, how far away the ground seemed then.

“How long does it take to learn to ride this caravel the way one rides a horse, then?” I met Titus’s gaze. His blue eyes sparked at my question.

“Some people learn very quickly, such as our good Captain, and Morna here,” he nodded at her. My maid glanced at him in some surprise, then flushed as she turned her head away. “Others take longer, Lady.”

Like me, I pouted to myself. “And you, Lieutenant? How long does it take you?”

“Somewhere in the middle,” Titus smiled at my frustration. “But I assure you, it lasts shorter and shorter each time you go out.” His eyes grew distant. “When we first came to High Rock, it took me a week!” A shrug of his broad shoulders dispelled that memory. “But now it just takes me a little more than a day.”

“That’s encouraging,” I could hear nothing close to that sentiment in my own voice.

This post has been edited by haute ecole rider: Mar 23 2014, 06:23 PM

[Acadian]

Argh! Too bad that Nirn-fresh mast and Cora's quarters were not in the center of the ship! Despite Cora’s discomfort, this was a delightful episode. The well-intentioned healing spell from the captain showed us some of the effects of magicka on Cora - as well as the protectiveness of Morna. Happily, she was able to pull some residual ‘Nirn’ from the mast.

The lessen up near the center of the ship’s main deck was fun as well, with the captain’s animated hand demonstrations of pitch, roll and yaw. Captain Solinar seems quite a quality fellow.

Something tells me, though, that Cora is probably not cut out for a life at sea. She should definitely not give up her day job as Lord of Cardonaccum!

[ghastley]

He is right! That horrid nausea is gone! I had been so engrossed in his explanation for the causes of seasickness that I had not noticed the subsidence of its signs.

That rings true! Nothing helps sea-sickness more than taking your mind off it.

I'm a bit surprised that Cora doesn't carry something with her to act like the new mast, but perhaps it would necessarily be too large to transport, if it's to be effective.

You've now got me googling to try and find out if we're equally sensitive to motion sickness in all three axes. Ship travel gives you more pitch than the others, car travel more yaw, and I'd suspect air travel is more roll. Anybody know?

[Acadian]

Hee! Perhaps Cora needs to carry a potted Nirnroot for sea travel!

Any of the three axis can be disconcerting at the extreme ends (such as spinning yaw or inverted roll). I always found a reasonable rate of roll not unpleasant (even nice for sleeping). If in the stern (or especially the bow) during heavy seas on a large ship, pitch can be eerily powerful. When a battleship takes blue water over the bow, the vertical changes can be large and exert quite an unsettling degree of G-force as the body cycles from feeling very light to very heavy. I always found that to be the most potentially troublesome regarding seasickness. In an aircraft, this would be somewhat analogous to the pilot sharply pulling up, inducing G's or (even worse) sharply nosing over and the attendant negative G's. In most cases of sea and air travel, I expect the combination of pitch and roll works against its victims as well. My two septims anyway.

Oh, and I forgot to mention how much I enjoyed how readily Cora related to the horse analogies. Brilliant touch by Rider.

[SubRosa]

Robert Lindsay was fantastic as Captain Pellew! He was one of the high points of that series. I loved Jamie Bamber in it too. It is a rare treat of his pre-Galactica days.

“I am given to understand that you have eaten nothing since we left port?”
I guess there is no point, since she is just going to give it right to the fish anyway! Poor Cora, she may be at home on the earth mother's solid ground, but clearly not on the sea mother's turbulent waves!

I liked Cora's musings on Captain Pellew Solinar's loyalty to Talos, and what form it might take? Also wonderful was the good captain's explanation of the forces of pitch, yaw, and roll, and his helpful remedy. I agree with our Marine (ret) that Cora ought to take a nirnroot with her the next time. But maybe a greenhouse full of them instead of only one...

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Mar 24 2014, 10:03 PM

[Grits]

Captain Solinar’s discussion of pitch, roll, and yaw had me green around the gills. My sympathy to Lady Cora. Morna made me smile with her feminine invective and hesitant question.

I hope there’s enough Nirn left in the mast to get Lady Cora all the way to shore. She’ll arrive in poor shape if this continues!

[haute ecole rider]

@Acadian: No, Lady Cora will never take to the high seas, unlike some folks we know! Be assured that she is keeping her day job! I had to laugh at your suggestion of a potted Nirnroot, but I'm not sure that would be so helpful!

@ghastley: I'd trust Acadian's experience in pitch, roll and yaw. Mine are pretty much limited to riverboats, horses and automobiles. Though I've flown a few times, and have experienced turbulence, I think it was much like being on a roller coaster, and not on a ship in rough seas. Ain't it the truth, keeping the mind busy takes it off your troubles!

@SubRosa: Yes, there was no point eating when the stomach is so topsy-turvy! Why feed the fish? And where would Lady Cora fit a greenhouse of Nirnroot??

@Grits: I'm glad everyone enjoyed Captain Solinar's lesson in the motion of moving bodies! Though I am quite sorry you had such a colorful reaction to it. I really rather like Morna. She's provincial, inexperienced in the ways of the world (though not necessarily in the ways of men), and yet she is a wonderful maid to have with you on an adventure!

The story so far: Lady Cora and maid Morna received a lesson in combating seasickness as well as one in roll, pitch and yaw. Of course Karim/Basim had the last word! Now we progress a little bit further on our sea journey.

************************
Chapter Forty

On the third day I stood at the mid-deck rail with Lieutenant Titus as we watched the last hills sheltering Iliac Bay fall behind us. The seasickness I experienced had subsided considerably yesterday, to the point that I felt like eating some porridge by sundown. However, after a night in the small cabin, the queasiness had returned. Still, it was not as strong as before, and I began to appreciate Titus’s meaning.

The sails of the accompanying cogs, carrying the horses of the Legion, shone in the faint winter sun as they turned away from us to follow the coastline eastward. I glanced at Titus. “Are the horse transports not h- headed the same way as us?”

“No,” Titus shook his head. “The cogs are not as seaworthy as this caravel. When storms blow up, they need to head to shore to ride it out.”

“Also,” Karim’s voice reached us as he joined us at the rail, “they need to resupply water. It is impossible to carry enough water for the horses for more than two or three days.”

I glanced at the tall Redguard. He never smiles, yet he is always ready with timely information. There is more going on beneath that mask than anyone can begin to suspect. “So where will they stop?”

“Probably Helgathe and Rihad,” Karim’s eyes remained on the disappearing sails. I considered his answer. Both are Hammerfell ports. Does he come from one of them? Does he wish we followed the same path as those cogs? “They’ll likely arrive in Anvil two or three days behind us, Tava permitting.”

“Tava?” I repeated the unfamiliar word.

“The Bird Goddess,” Karim turned to face us. “She brings the wind that drives our sails.” His dark eyes glinted. “Only the Ra Gada worship her.” He bowed slightly to us. “Excuse me, I must return to my duties.”

As he disappeared through the deck hatch, I turned back to Titus. “Ra Gada?”

“What the Redguards call themselves,” he explained. “They have a unique culture, and quite the interesting history.” He tipped his head in the direction of the deck hatch. “You should ask him about it.”

“And get two or th- three breaths of information from him?” I raised my brows at him. “I prefer to learn in more sizable chunks, thank you.”

“He is a busy man, Lady Cora,” Titus’s brows matched the height of mine. “Second only to our Captain, and likely the busier of the two.”

My lips quirked upward at the thought of our own second-in-commands. “Isn’t that always the c- case, Lieutenant?” Titus’s chuckle was reward enough.

“Herre, ma’am,” the soft purring of one of the Khajiit at my shoulder reminded me once more of Do’saka. I turned to see the feline hands holding a covered mug toward me, steam rising from its small sipping hole. “Some warm tea to settle your stomach.” His strong teeth, yellowed with age, glimmered in a grin. “Naught magical about it.”

I cupped my hands around the heavy pottery vessel and sipped at it tentatively. My stomach did not protest, and I drank a little more. “Thank you,” I paused, trying to remember the cook’s name. “Dro’taba?”

The Khajiit nodded in vigorous pleasure. “Yes, this one is Drro’taba.” He ducked his head at Titus before moving with that typical Khajiit spring belowdecks.

As I watched his tail disappear through the hatch, I mused at the quality of the ship’s cooking. “I’m surprised the Khajiit can c- cook so well.”

“Why not?” Titus asked me. “They have a most excellent cuisine in Elseweyr. Both sweet and salty at the same time, yet savory beyond belief.”

“So I’ve discovered,” I muttered. Indeed, Dro’taba’s cooking would put Machara’s best to shame. New flavors and unfamiliar aromas met us at each meal, yet both Morna and I found ourselves enjoying the strange dishes. When we’re not beset by seasickness, that is!

“For some reason,” Morna volunteered hesitantly, “his food helps with the upset stomach!”

I had to agree. But something else was beginning to disturb my peace. That unsettling nightmare had broken my sleep two nights in a row for the first time since the signing of the treaty with General Talos. I had grown accustomed to its infrequency over the past year. But now, after the second restless night, I began to wonder if my malady was beginning to assert itself earlier than expected.

As the day wore on, my worry and trepidation increased. Though I tried to participate in the conversation with Titus, Morna and Captain Solinar, my thoughts kept returning to that frightening place of my nightmares. General Talos is chasing me through a place that is not of Nirn. What does that mean? Why do I fear him so? And that kiss last spring! How does that fit in with that frightening figure chasing me? Does he seek my submission? Does he seek to subdue me? By chasing me through these haunted ruins? Or through the force of physical attraction? Somehow the typical seduction dance did not seem to fit what I had seen of General Talos.

After a day of brisk wind and fast sailing under clear skies, I braved the pitching of the ship to join Captain Solinar on the poop deck as the sun dropped into the ocean beyond his right shoulder. He smiled as I climbed the steps, blue smoke streaming ahead from his pipe.

“Welcome, madam,” he greeted me, one hand lifting from the steering wheel to remove the pipe from his lips. “I am glad to see your seasickness subsiding so well.”

“It gets easier each day,” I had to admit. My eyes moved toward the ruby globe hovering over the edge of the water. “I never realized how beautiful the sunset can be on the water.”

“Today was a fair day,” Captain Solinar agreed. “But tomorrow may not be such a good day for landlubbers.”

“What makes you say that, Captain?” I glanced around at the clear sky.

“Experience,” the tall Altmer winked down at me. “Behind me, the sky is bright, not red. And ahead,” he waved eastward, “there is a faint smudge on the horizon that suggests a storm, or worse, a squall.”

“What is the difference between a squall and a storm?” I peered at the sky, but couldn’t detect the subtle change he had indicated.

“A squall is pretty much a smaller, more ferocious version of a storm,” Captain Solinar’s tone turned serious. “It blows up very quickly, with little warning, and has high, gusty winds. If it comes from the wrong quarter, it can easily capsize a ship.”

I glanced up at him in alarm. “Capsize us?”

“The Arpenmalatu is a very stable ship in a storm,” Solinar pointed his pipe at the sails above us. “Its hull is large relative to the size of those sails,” he continued. “That means she is more likely to right herself if she is tipped to one side or the other. The horse transports, on the other hand . . .” his voice trailed off.

“The cogs?” I turned my gaze to the triangular sails above us and recalled the broad, square sails of the fat-hulled ships that had left us this morning. “Is that why they follow the coast? To run ashore at the sign of a storm?”

“That is correct,” Captain Solinar nodded. “We, on the other hand, can run before the wind if we must.” He gestured toward the windlass behind us. “Or we can drop the storm anchors and ride it out, if the wind is from the wrong quarter. Of course,” again he nodded up at the sails, “we would reef our canvas if we do.”

“That would keep the ship from capsizing, then?” I met Captain Solinar’s gaze. Would he assure me that no harm would come to us? Or would he tell me the plain truth? That sailing is fraught with danger, and we are all truly at the mercy of Tava, or Kyne?

“I won’t lie to you, madam,” Solinar’s gaze held mine steadily. “Your intelligence would be insulted by false reassurances. Reefing the sails would greatly decrease the risk of capsizing, but it can still happen.”

“I wouldn’t tell Morna that!” I exclaimed softly. “But how can we best prepare for rough weather?”

“Make sure everything in your cabin is secured or tied down,” Captain Solinar responded. “Be sure to keep the lids on your chamberpots latched when you are not using them.” I flinched at the mental image of our bodily wastes flying around the small space below. “And if you find that the pitching is too much to bear, go down one deck to the mid-deck. The trapdoor is just inside the cabin door, in the corner. Go forward from there and hold on to the main mast.”

“Should we tie ourselves to it?” I wondered, but Captain Solinar shook his head vigorously.

“No, madam. If the ship should start taking on water, or Gods forbid, capsize, we need to be able to get you ladies out as quickly as possible.”

I turned back to the eastern sky. “I’m quite familiar with the weather patterns on the moors, Captain,” I mused softly. “But if we’re west of that,” I waved my hand at the smudge I still couldn’t see, “and the wind is behind us, won’t that weather stay ahead of us?”

“That’s assuming that’s a westerly storm,” Captain Solinar replied. “But I’ve been watching it, and it’s new in the past quarter bell. Either it’s an easterly, or it’s blowing from north or south. We’ll know if we get closer to it.”

“If it’s an easterly,” I glanced at the Altmer, “we can have a rather abrupt change in the wind at the sails?”

“Typically the wind drops right before it changes,” he shrugged. “My crew will reef the sails if that happens. Until we know for sure which way that storm’s blowing, we will assume the worst of it.”

“Prepare for the worst and hope for the best, is that it?” I asked. He smiled and nodded.

[Acadian]

Nice touches, referencing the Ra Gada and Tava. They reinforce the mystery of Smiley the Redguard.

‘As I watched his tail disappear through the hatch,’ - - Wonderfully phrased and I love the image this evokes.

Nice to see Lady Cora earning her sea legs and regaining some appetite.

Between Talosian dreams and the hint of clouds off the bow, it seems there may be storms on the horizon.

[SubRosa]

I notice that Alorius got a promotion from Lieutenant Alorius to Lt. Titus... Cora is getting more accustomed to him being around, and I think considering him a friend as well as an ally?

Nice inclusion of Tava, and her veneration by Redguard sailors.

And not so nice is the return of Cora's Talosian dreams. Though I suspect they are a going to be a central piece to the story. Or at least that they point to the central matter of the story: Cora and Talos.

I liked Captain Pellew Solinar's description/warning of the upcoming squall.

“Be sure to keep the lids on your chamberpots latched when you are not using them.”
I suspect this was the most important piece of advice he imparted!

[Grits]

The exchanges between Lady Cora and Titus as she now consistently thinks of him are always a delight. I enjoyed their eyebrow dance.

Ugh, chamberpots in a storm. Not to mention the sick bucket. I think I’d rather travel with the horses!

I love the details of yellowed Khajiit teeth and the tail disappearing after the rest of him.

[Thomas Kaira]

Chapter 1:

So, war is evident and winter is coming. The Game of Thorns begins.

I particularly liked the piece between Cora and Wallace, where instead of being a proper lady and reading up on romance and poetry, she instead chose warfare. Not all queens need to be proper all the time, after all.

I didn't know Sun Tsu was published in Tamriel, but there it is!

One bit of etymology I'd like to go over:

Milord and Milady are referred to as formal recognitions in the piece. In actuality, they are not formal. Milord/Milady were used most often by travellers referring to people like innkeepers or if a lower classman was trying to flatter someone of higher status than them. Not very noble.

The proper formal way of addressing a lord, lady, or knight in Middle English was "My lord" and "My lady." Since she was trying to be proper while addressing her husband, I just thought I'd point that out.

To put it another way: the courier addressing Cora was using them correctly, but Cora addressing Wallace (who I am assuming is a noble or knight) was not, and it stuck out a bit for me because she was trying to be correct and proper when addressing him.

This post has been edited by Thomas Kaira: Apr 1 2014, 03:51 PM

[haute ecole rider]

@Acadian: I have so much fun with Karim. He is so taciturn, yet I know he has an amazing story to tell. Alas, this is not the place to hear it. But someday I would love to sit him down and have a chat over a couple kegs of ice-cold ale. Yes, I said kegs. It's that kind of story, you know?

@SubRosa: Whoops! My editorial apologies, that one got away! Lady Cora still regards him as Lieutenant Alorius, it is I who sees him as Lieutenant Titus! She is still very formal with him, for so many reasons. Thank you for calling my attention to my editorial error! Though she does think of him as Titus, since she is not a soldier to refer to those around her by their surnames, as does Julian.

@Grits: Eyebrow dance indeed! I love writing facial expressions maybe because I'm so attuned to them in my day to day conversation. I find that those little things give away more than what is said (or even the tone of voice, but that's just me being tone-deaf). I'm glad that such things in my writing enrich the conversations for you.

@TK: Welcome back to Chorrol! And welcome to Lady Cora's little tale! Well, it started out being a little tale, but I should have known that once I introduced a certain character it would take on its own telling. Believe me, I considered your criticism regarding my use of formal address in this story very seriously. If I had not already written so much of it during Nanowrimo '11, and more of it since, I would have made the changes as you suggested. However, I made the decision some time ago that I would use the formal address as a way to differentiate between different origins. In Cardonaccum "Milord/Milady" passes for formal address (you guess correctly, Lord Wallace is a minor noble), but that will change depending on from where the speaker originates. So I'll leave it for now with the gentle reminder that this is not Merrie Olde England.

The story so far: Captain Solinar has done his best to prepare his passengers for the possibility of storms. He even has provided hard-earned (and hard-learned, I'd say) advice on how to deal with the tossing and turning. Expect the worst and hope for the best, indeed! But has Captain Solinar expected the worst?

As an aside, Lady Cora would like to announce that her companion Muse Julian has a new story up on her LBMQ thread. Have fun reading!

*****************
Chapter Forty-one

The familiar dreaded arches drew me down the passageway deeper into the maze. My feet slipped on the slick patches, my toes sought the reassuring strength of Nirn in vain. Booted footfalls somewhere behind me thudded softly through the oppressive silence that pressed me toward the floor.

Nausea roiled within my belly, aggravated by the absence of Nirn. It added a new edge to the old panic I always experienced in this place. As I always did, I glanced back down the passageway toward the pursuer, dark except for the gleaming steel at his side. Then I flew headlong down the treacherous twisting stairway, its hard walls tossing me between them like a ship on a stormy sea.

Voices reached my ears, voices that were not part of the familiar nightmare. But I was not completely free of the terrible place in my mind. I grasped for something solid, something to anchor me in the present, something to bring me back to Nirn. But my fingers encountered only insubstantial sounds, incoherent words, and wildly flickering light. Then I fell away . . .

The clattering of the ancient mechanism alerted me to the blade trap. Somehow I managed to avoid being sliced by the first bronze pendulum. I waited in frantic impatience for the right time to run through the short corridor, part of my attention turned behind me. I managed to reach the far side of the trap just as the figure appeared at the bottom of the stairs. I did not watch him traverse the swinging blades, but pressed on into the darkness.

Once again I confronted the terrifying dilemma of three passageways. Left, right, or down the stairs? This time I did not hesitate but flung myself headlong down the worn stone steps, my hands skittering along the walls.

“Milady? Milady?” I seized desperately on the familiar voice, but the anxiety in her tone scared me back into that other world.

Once again I stood in that hateful passageway, staring at those blue-green crystals, my fingers and toes vainly seeking Nirn in the ancient stones around me. Once again the sound of those boots on the floor drove me along the corridor. Once again, panic, edged with nausea, wound my muscles tight and compressed my breathing.

Though I knew it was there, the blade trap still caught me by surprise, still made me gasp as it sliced the air just in front of my nose. And though I knew who pursued me, I wondered if that mysterious figure had become someone else. Somehow I didn’t want it to be General Talos chasing me. I turned back to see him navigate the blade trap with far more aplomb than I had ever mustered. Again his hood dropped back to reveal that same square-jawed face. My heart plummeted at the sight of the Colovian’s face.

Warm hands touched my face lightly, breaking the nightmare for a brief moment. “Lady?” This time the voice was male, but just as namelessly familiar. “Lady, are you still with us? Can you hear me?”

I tried to answer, but could only gasp for breath as the world tilted abruptly. The dark form hovering above me braced himself against the lurching in my belly and steadied my shoulder against the shifting beneath me. “Lady?” he asked again. “Lady, if you can get up, we can —“

I stood before the triple fork, bootsteps echoing behind me. Something pushed me forward, and I caught myself just in time, stumbling instead of falling down the descending stairs. This time I reached the bottom and found myself in a curving passage, where a blue-green glow pulled me onward. The quality of the silence changed from a dead oppression to an echoing threat. My own labored breathing deafened my ears.

I passed from blue-green light into darkness and back again as the passageway twisted and turned deeper into the depths. I still couldn't feel Nirn, no matter how much my flesh cried for its reassurance. No matter how quickly I fled through this foreboding structure, those footsteps remained a too-brief distance behind me. Though my heart screamed terror at my forward momentum, that figure drove me onward, deeper into the unknown that waited in the silence.

My body lurched against something solid, something that thrummed faintly beneath my fingers. I blinked into awareness of the wood pressed into my cheek, its creaking and groaning belying the storm that tossed us upon restless waves. Something warm braced me against the mast, and the anxious visage of my maid hovered in a blur, shifting between light and dark.

“If we can keep her against this long enough, maybe she —“ The voice faded with the ebbing of Nirn from the wood that propped my body against the rolling.

The narrow confines of the corridor ended abruptly in a dark void. I stumbled and fell to my hands and knees at the crumbling edge of stone. Beyond the silence filled an immense space bound only by blackness. Far away, at a much lower level than where I crouched, a brilliant, narrow crystal gleamed malevolently. I could not assess its scale, but something told me it was huge, compared to the other crystals I had seen so far.

Panting from exertion, I glanced around me for a way off this exposed place. The crumbling edge ran into darkness on either side of me, edging what seemed to be an exposed balcony running along the side of this chamber. I edged back until I felt the wall at my shoulder, then struggled shakily to my feet. Though I could see no distinguishing features in either direction, I decided to move to my left. My fingers always in contact with the moss-covered wall, I crept along in the echoing void.

Brilliant light flooded the darkness, and drove away the last vestiges of the nightmare. Still my senses were slow to take in my surroundings, as next I became aware of warmth on my skin, warmth from the brilliance above me and warmth from a shifting surface below my body. The silence of the ruin dissipated in the soft rumbling of water on sand. Voices around me murmured in concern.

Most importantly of all, Nirn embraced my body and soul in its strong assurance, easing away the last lingering traces of fear and panic that had marked eternity for me. My constricted breathing eased, and finally I could open my eyes.

“Milady!” Morna leaned over me, her face worn to the bone with anxiety. “You’re back!”

“Am I?” The words came out as a croak. I licked dry lips and lifted my left hand to her face. Sand, warmed by the sun above, trickled from my fingers as she caught them in her warm grip. “Where are we? What h- happened?”

“Lady,” Lieutenant Alorius’s voice reached me from beyond Morna’s crouching figure. He knelt next to her, a weary smile easing the last worry from his clear eyes. “There was a storm. Quite a bad one. You slept through much of it, but it wasn’t a —“ He paused.

“You weren’t sleeping,” Morna filled in. “You were lost somewhere else. It scared me that I couldn’t rouse you.” Her voice caught, and Morna’s hand flew to her mouth.

“She managed to find me,” Titus continued. “I thought the effects of the storm combined with your disconnect from Nirn caused your unnatural state. We decided to try and get you to the mast in the cabin. It seemed to help, but only for a moment or so.”

I took a deep breath. “I fear I have d- drained the last of Nirn’s strength from that mast,” I murmured. I peered past Titus’s shoulder at the deep blue sky. At the edges of my vision golden grasses stirred in a breeze.

“H- how long has it been?” I asked, still trying to orient myself.

“We have been five days out of Wayrest,” Captain Solinar’s voice reached me from the sea’s lapping edge. I turned my head to see his tall figure approach. He smiled down at me, the shadows across his face not quite hiding the concern still in his eyes. “I am glad to see you back to yourself, madam. It has been quite the ordeal for you.”

Suddenly I wanted to see where I lay, and struggled to sit up. My body, still too weak from my recent ordeal, would not obey my wishes.

However both Morna and Titus had divined my intent, and Morna slid her arm beneath my shoulders, while the lieutenant steadied me with his strong grip. After a brief moment of dizziness, I became coherent enough to look around.

To my left, past Captain Solinar’s lean form, the sea reflected blue as it surged onto the beach in an incessant rolling. Halfway to the horizon floated the graceful curves of Arpenmalatu. The narrow strip of white sand glowed brilliantly in the southern sun. The golden grass, taller than my shoulders, rippled in the salty breeze off the ocean. To my right, the grass disappeared into a tumble of boulders and craggy outcroppings, pines and cedars reaching skyward. Near the shore these trees were small, twisted and bent, but as my eyes traveled up the slopes, the trees grew taller until the ones near the top seemed to be holding up the sky.

Through their dark green boughs I could see white tumbled stones. Something about those stones stirred recent memories best left alone, and I shivered. They are too much like those in my dream. The same arches, the same color, the same texture. Can it be —? “Wh- where are we?” I asked.

Screenshot

“Captain Solinar has brought us ashore north of Anvil,” Lieutenant Alorius replied. He nodded up the slope at the ruins above us. “That’s Beldaburo, an old Ayleid ruin. We can shelter there overnight, then start south.”

“No.” The word was out of my mouth before I could bite it back. “No, I do not wish to g- go anywhere near that place.”

[SubRosa]

That was a brilliantly written nightmare - the worst one yet it seems, and so cleverly interspersed with Cora's semi-wakeful surroundings. I have no doubt the severity is directly related to the lack of solid Nirn under her feet. Not to mention the fact that her journey is taking her ever nearer to the bogeyman in her dreams.

I was wondering if there was some significance to the nightmare taking place in an subterranean warren of Ayleid construction. Now I see why. They are on the Gold Coast, in sight of Beldaburo.

[Acadian]

I’m glad you have retained the etymological freedom that a non-earth world and history provides. I quite like (and share) your preference of choosing between My Lady and Milady to simply imply the desired level of formality between characters when one or both possess a degree of nobility. But then again, I like to go listen to Sir Mazoga to get a real feel for how nobles of Tamriel might talk.

Quite the continuing mystery!

I agree with SubRosa – that nightmare was wonderfully interwoven with the storm at sea.

From the fying pan into the fire comes to mind: Cora has made it ashore and the comfort of Nirn, only to be asked to leave that comfort again for the Nirnless stone of her nightmares. Hmm, I’ll wager she’ll be sleeping under the stars. . . .

Oh, and I love that you have woven in a piece of the 'familiar' by incorporating both the Gold Coast and Beldaburo.

[Grits]

That was an outstanding dream sequence. I love the way you wove moments of wakefulness throughout.

What a beautiful description of the Gold Coast with the ruin above. I am further intrigued!

[haute ecole rider]

@Sage Rose: The full significance of the Ayelid ruins of Lady Cora's nightmares remain to be seen. But you are right, the increasing severity indicates that she is drawing closer to the source of those nightmares.

@Acadian: Both Lieutenant Alorius and Maid Morna are much too aware of Lady Cora's status to let her sleep under the stars (as much as Lady Cora would like to) and Lieutenant Alorius is also too aware of the dangers of camping out on the Gold Coast of the late Second Era. So off we go . . .

@Grits: I'm glad you enjoyed our landfall on the Gold Coast. Julian was cooperative and took us up to the shoreline below Beldaburo so I could capture the ruins as they appeared at the end of the Second Era. It was a gorgeous afternoon for us and she and Blanco got to have a delightful time together. Lady Cora is eternally grateful to the full cooperation of her fellow Muse.

A/N: With the excitement surrounding the triumphant return of a certain hyperactive, bushy-tailed creature, Lady Cora has tapped me gently on the shoulder and reminded me that we have unfinished business. We apologize for our extended absence due to the nemesis called Real Life and offer up this chapter by way of compensation.

The story so far: After a severe bout of seasickness and nightmares upon a stormy sea, Lady Cora has wakened to find herself in Nirn's embrace in a beautiful spot on the Gold Coast. After refusing Lieutenant Alorius's first suggestion to camp in an Ayleid ruin we all know as Beldaburo, she has agreed to a hike southward toward an alternative.

Chapter Forty-two

“I must return to Arpenmalatu,” Captain Solinar murmured. “But I will leave Karim with you. He knows the way to Anvil well, and will escort you safely. Between his swordsmanship and Lieutenant Alorius’s skills, you and your maid will be quite safe.” He turned to Lieutenant Alorius. “I will sail on to Anvil and alert the guards there to watch for you.” He smiled crookedly. “Perhaps I can persuade them to meet you on the way.”

Lieutenant Alorius snorted. “I appreciate any effort you make on our behalf in that regard,” he shook his head. “But I doubt you will be successful. As of yet they barely tolerate us.”

“Things have changed here on the Gold Coast, sir,” Solinar advised the lieutenant. “Ever since Admiral Richton cleared the Abecean of pirates, the town has been more kindly disposed toward the Colovian cause.”

“Letting us use the docks is one thing,” Titus shrugged. “But sending the guard up the shore to meet and escort a minor High Rock noble?” He glanced at me. “My apologies, Lady.”

I shook my head. “An apt d- description, Lieutenant, and one I’ll not dispute.”

The Colovian smiled at me, then turned back to Solinar, his expression turning serious. “I think you’d have better luck with my legion when they disembark the cogs.”

“They are likely a few days behind us, at least.” Solinar responded. “By the time they arrive in the port, chances are you will be staying at the Villa Reman drinking their fine wine imported from Skingrad.” He winked at me. “Quite fine, that wine, madam. I think you will like it very much.”

“Th- thank you good Captain,” I met his clear gaze. Will this be the time our ways part? Will I see him again? “And thank you for all the g- good you’ve done for Morna and myself. I apologize for all the b- bother we have caused you and your c- crew.”

“Ah, madam, but you have been no more a bother than any other passenger,” Solinar responded with an elaborate bow and a sly wink. “Now we must part. Until we meet again, madam, may the sun warm your face and the wind blow at your back!”

“And I wish the s- same to you, good Captain,” I responded as Solinar straightened up and stepped toward the ship’s boat. He flashed a broad grin over his shoulder as his long legs carried him across the sand.

Our small group, Morna, Lieutenant Alorius, Karim and I, silently watched the narrow boat glide into the surf and turn for the anchored Arpenmalatu. None of us moved until the dark shape rose to the caravel’s deck and the white sails billowed out from the slanted yards.

As the Arpenmalatu moved across the brilliant blue-green of the ocean, Titus turned away and picked up a laden pack. He slung its straps across both shoulders and glanced at me. “Ready, Lady?”

I drew my black cloak closer about me and shifted my own smaller bag on my shoulder. “As ready as I’ll ever be, Lieutenant.”

Karim gazed after the graceful caravel a moment longer. Morna and I had already followed Titus a few strides before the Redguard turned from the sea and fell in behind us.

The Colovian traced a path along the edge of the sand, where the tumbled boulders were few and far between. The sun shone brightly down on us, and the golden grass and dark green trees competed with the water in intensity of color. The breeze blew cool on our skin, yet did nothing to ease the heat from the sun.

“It’s so warm here,” Morna’s voice reached me from behind. “Warmer than our summers at Cardonaccum!”

“The further south you go,” Karim’s quiet tones followed us, “the warmer it gets. Here, winter is damp, rainy days, just cold enough to see your breath but not cold enough to turn water to ice. In Valenwood and Elsweyr, the rains are warm even in the first moon of the year.”

“If it’s that warm in Morning Star, how can folks keep from burning up during Sun’s Height?” Morna exclaimed, skepticism in her voice.

“There are ways to deal with the heat,” Titus did not falter in his stride. “Drink plenty of fluids. Keep your skin covered. Rest during the hottest part of the day.”

Morna fell silent. Good. Save your breath. Lieutenant Alorius isn’t exactly strolling along. The countryside around us grew more rugged, tree-covered bluffs pressing closer to the shoreline. As the sun lowered toward the sea, we found ourselves walking along higher ground, avoiding the numerous gullies and small outcroppings that puckered the shoreline.

“We’re almost there,” Titus pointed toward a high hill that rose before us. “Fort Crowhaven. The lord of the castle is sympathetic to the Colovian cause.”

I squinted up at the pines towering over us. Between the boughs I could just make out the glint of sunlight-dappled stones. They had a grey cast, and seemed more solid and mundane than the Ayleid ruins we had left behind.

Titus halted and glanced at the sun, then met Karim’s gaze. The Redguard nodded curtly, then dropped his pack beside a boulder and detached the waterskin.

“It’s a hard climb from here,” Titus detached his container and offered it to me. I noticed that Karim had extended his own to Morna. “Best to replenish the water we’ve lost to the sun before we exert ourselves.”

Morna glanced askance at me, but when I took the proffered drink, she accepted Karim’s gesture. Both of us took only a few sips before returning the water to the men. I noticed that Morna’s face was flushed, and the backs of her wrists and hands, uncovered by the long sleeves of her dress, were beginning to turn pink.

I turned back to Titus. “Lead on, Lieutenant, we are ready.”

As it turned out, the Colovian’s prediction was an understatement. Though he tried to pick an easy path between the rock outcroppings that bolstered the shoulder of the hill, we found ourselves nearly crawling on hands and knees to scale the steep slope. In several places, Morna and I had to accept assistance from the men.

It took us two bells to walk down the coast from our debarkation point. It took us nearly as long just to climb the hill to the fort. After the first half bell, I stopped looking up to check our progress, for each time I did so, the structure seemed further away than ever.

The sun was just touching the sea, flooding everything around us with a soft roseate light, when Titus laid a hand on my arm. “We’re here, Lady,” he murmured.

“Who are you?” A voice, accompanied by a soft clinking of mail, brought my eyes up from the ground at my feet. I locked gazes with a cold stare from the shadows of a steel helm crowned with a nosepiece in the stylized shape of a crow. The guard’s right hand disappeared behind the round shield which bore the same sigil. I knew he gripped his sword and wondered if he had drawn it yet.

“Lieutenant Titus Alorius,” the Colovian responded crisply, moving between the guard and us. “One of General Talos’s legion commanders. We seek shelter tonight in Crowhaven, if Lord Vant remains our friend.”

The guard regarded Titus silently, then his gaze shifted past us to study Karim. After a few more breaths, he muttered something over his shoulder to another armored figure. The other disappeared in the direction of the castle. “You will wait here until we hear from our captain,” his tone held an unfriendly chill. “There are archers above with bows drawn. Best you remain still.”

My eyes lifted involuntarily to the battlements beyond. In some ways it reminded me of Cardonaccum, only with larger stones in a darker grey color. Sparkles of orange shimmered along the tops of the walls. I drew in a deep breath against the weariness in my legs and arms and resisted the temptation to seat myself on a nearby boulder. I had no wish to test the resolve of those archers.

“How dare they!” Morna muttered testily behind me, still out of breath from the arduous climb. “Treat the Lady of Cardonaccum like a beggar at the gates! No, worse, for we —“ she stopped at a sharp glance from me. “Well, it’s true,” she continued in a heated whisper, “we treat our beggars far more kindly than this!”

“Shush, Morna,” I hissed back. “This is not the time or the place.”

“What is it, Fulbenus?” Another voice reached out of the growing shadows surrounding the base of the fort. “Who are these people?”

“Captain,” the guard clanged mailed fist against mailed hauberk. “This man here claims he is from General Talos. But they came from the west side, and if that man,” he nodded in Karim’s direction, “is Colovian I’m a rooster’s teat.”

“General Talos is nowhere in the area,” the captain eyed Titus. “So how do I know you’re not a bandit in looted armor?”

“Lord Vant will remember me from when we last passed by,” Titus’s tone held patient weariness. “If you bring us before him he will vouch for my identity.”

“Bring the torch!” the captain stepped closer to Titus, peering against the glare from the setting sun. One of the other guards obliged with alacrity. “Yes, I remember you, Lieutenant,” the captain gestured a signal. The sudden easing in the guards’ posture was mirrored in my own muscles, and I wavered slightly. “It grows dark, and we must barricade ourselves before the sun is gone,” the captain stepped back and waved us to follow him.

[Grits]

Hooray for the return of Lady Cora! I have missed her and this wonderful story.

I could feel the sun’s heat on that sweaty walk up to Crowhaven. I am absolutely delighted that Lady Cora is digging her toes into Gold Coast soil!

[McBadgere]

Riiiight...

I have absolutely no idea what happened...I've gone back to see where it was that I'd read up to...

Chapter 17...Seriously?!!... ...

I am so sorry...

A lot of this year has been/is becoming a bit of a blur...

So I intend to catch up, very much so...So, being as I'm catching up, I can't comment on this last chapter though I will applaud it most heartily for simply being there... ...

So, Chapters 17, 18 and 19...

Bloody amazing...It was Lady Cora's going through the dead in Talos' camp, then her return to the castle and her briefing of the Knights - and the others that needed to know - of all the decisions made...

Fair dues, I absolutely loved all of it...So amazingly written...

I love all the characters so much...Brilliantly brought to life...Loving the little subtleties that get put in there...The quick looks, the curtseys and all that...

Oh, that with the horse was beautiful...I saw the picture... ...I bet she was a handful... ...

Oh, and the sketch of Talos reminded me of Dean from Supernatural somehow...So that's gonna stick with me for a while... ...

I really have no idea whether I stopped reading or whether I've just forgotten it...Trust me, it could be either these days...Though I couldn't tell you why I appear to have stopped...Far too amazing for stuff like that...*Shrug*...

So, all I can do is apologise hugely and do my best to catch up/encourage further...Like you need more encouragement... ...Bloody amazing stuff...

Fair dues...Amazing work...Love it hugely...

Here's to the rest of it then... ...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

[ghastley]

I like the way the landscape has grown to proper proportions in this, taking all day to climb up from Beldaburo to Crowhaven. And you manage to reinforce your characters' characters just by walking. Morna complaining, (and being unprepared for the sun), Titus setting a brisk pace, Cora the stoic, trudging on, and not looking ahead.

Nice one, just don't make us wait so long for the next one!

[Acadian]

“Now we must part. Until we meet again, madam, may the sun warm your face and the wind blow at your back!” - - This is wonderfully done, as the sea captain speaks in terms of nature’s forces that so dictate life on the sea. Yet, he has translated the very familiar nautical farewell into what flows much more naturally to the ears of the landstriders his words are intended for. A worldly captain indeed.

Grits is right – we could easily feel the sun, heat and weariness building in our legs as the small group made their ascent.

How tantalizing to bring them to Fort Crowhaven. Questions about it abound!