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Cardonaccum, The beauty of a thistle. |
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SubRosa |
Sep 16 2013, 08:34 PM
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Ancient

Joined: 14-March 10
From: Between The Worlds

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From the commotion the woods, I am guessing that Sir Lard met up with General Talos. I suspect that GT will take Sir Lard's force as just what Lady Cora ventured, a rat fleeing from a sinking ship, rather than as a sally. The presence of Onchu will probably clinch it, as the local bishop is not likely to be making attacks with troops (though Duke William's half-brother Odo stood and delivered at Hastings). Besides, he seems to know that Laird is not exactly willing to take orders from Cora anyway. I noticed that the war council seemed a lot more productive without Sirs Laird and Broc present... Cora herself, while admitting her own lack of experience, shows her worth here. Not only with the observation that Laird was probably the attacker on the road, but also in that she broached the idea of surrender if it would preserve Cardonaccum. The latter is refreshing to see in fantasy fiction. Usually it is always a doomed struggle against impossible odds where there is no thought of surrender (granted, usually because it is orcs or such attacking). While she might have shoes on, Cora shows her horse-whispering Witchiness with the horse in the bailey. I was half-expecting Storms to be in Africa. This post has been edited by SubRosa: Sep 16 2013, 11:04 PM
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Grits |
Sep 16 2013, 11:40 PM
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Councilor

Joined: 6-November 10
From: The Gold Coast

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QUOTE “Fully armed Bretons sallying out from Cardonaccum?” Enrick asked. “I suspect that he would think we intend to resist to the last man.”
“Agreed,” I nodded. “Yet another way he would see this as Sir Laird fleeing a sinking sh- ship.” I would tend to think that Sir Laird’s lady and children wouldn’t have joined him in a raid, but perhaps the survivors won’t make it to the general. Cora feared for their safety, so we can’t assume anything about the treatment of captive non-combatants by the Legion. I’m interested to see what the night brings. Added: (Sorry, got interrupted mid-post) I liked the darkened armor very much. The details make this story a rich and interesting read. This post has been edited by Grits: Sep 16 2013, 11:53 PM
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McBadgere |
Sep 17 2013, 04:35 AM
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Councilor

Joined: 21-October 11

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Ooooh...Proper brilliant... D'you know...I'd forgotten all about the darkening of the armour/weapons so as not to throw the reflected light...  ...Thanks for reminding me about it...*Applauds...Stops and makes note...After slapping the back of his own head...*...Brilliant idea though... The conference was brilliant...Top Knights abound!!...Fantastic characters all... Hopefully they'll find Sir Broc soon...I dread to think what he could do about the place on his own once he realises they're all after him...  ... And such a lovely end to the episode, the comforts of the chamber a complete contrast to the martial feel of the rest of it...*Winks and does finger guns*... Fair dues, this is whole thing is as good as some of my fave novels...No, it's not a shocker, I'm just saying is all...  ... Love it!!... Nice one!!... *Applauds heartily*...
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haute ecole rider |
Sep 22 2013, 07:19 PM
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Master

Joined: 16-March 10
From: The place where the Witchhorses play

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@ghastley: As usual, you have presented a good summation of the quandary faced by both Talos and Lady Cora in this segment. Her solution? Wait and see! @Acadian: Yes, I would hope that Talos's inside information is good enough that he would see Laird as acting as his own agent. I'm sure, though, that is exactly how Talos sees the idiot. After all, he chose to deal with Cora, not with Wallace's surviving knights. And yes, a touch of empathy with the critters is one of Lady Cora's meager talents. @SubRosa: I agree with you that GT would not take Laird's actions as indicative of Lady Cora's response to his offer. Rather, I would expect, as I said earlier, that his inside information would be good enough that he knows the nature of Sir Laird does not allow for a female ruler. @Grits: I'm glad you liked that little detail of the darkened armor! I got to thinking about night operations by the Marines and the Army light infantry and thought why not Legion armor too? I think the trickiest part of night operations for armored fighters is maintaining silence! @McB: Stop slapping the back of your head! You'll have a bruise bigger than your brains!  Sir Broc wasn't invited to this one as Lady Cora did not want to waste time with his insinuations. But yes, a conference of Top Knights, indeed! I suspect Sir Broc would rather wait for a more auspicious time as he doesn't see Lady Cora in quite the same way that Sir Laird did. Thanks for the compliment! The story so far: Sir Laird has taken his retinue out of Cardonaccum and has encountered Legion forces on the road below the castle. His death was reported by a dying man-at-arms who returned to Cardonaccum. After a hectic day, Lady Cora finally finds time to give in to her own grief. *********************** Chapter ThirteenBlue-green light gleamed at intervals along the shadowed corridor. Corbeled vaulting soared above me, and the cracked, crumbling floor, coated with a slick greenish material, twisted my ankles as I tried to hurry. Why was I hurrying? I couldn’t remember. I never did, not at this stage. All I knew was that something pursued me, and there was no way out of this maze. The stone of this mystery structure felt unnatural to my bare feet, as if something inimical to life coiled within its crystalline mass. None of the familiar energy of Nirn could be detected through this hostile surface. That little voice I always listened to was mute. I was hopelessly lost in this strange place.
Booted footfalls sounded behind me. I glanced back, reeling against one wall as a uneven aspect of the floor tripped me. Far off down the passageway, a hooded, cloaked figure strode through one of the isolated pools of light cast by those hateful crystals. His face did not show beneath the shadow of the hood, but the steel hilt of his sword depending from his side glittered in the harsh light. If I was afraid before, I was terrified now. How did I know he meant harm? I had no way of knowing, no way of being certain. Yet I was convinced that if he caught me, my life would be forfeit.
Ahead the corridor twisted to the right, then led down a narrow, winding staircase. I half-ran, half-fell down the ragged steps, my hands bracing me between the curved walls of the stairwell. It gave onto a high, narrow hallway with vertical slots in the walls. As I approached them, a grinding noise sounded from my left side. I barely ducked back in time to avoid being sliced by the razored edge of the bronze pendulum. Two more traversed the pathway beyond. A trap! Panic rose in my throat when I heard my pursuer’s boots on the stairs behind me. I hesitated as the pendulum disappeared within the opposite wall, then darted forward to pause between the first pair. They passed by me so closely that my skirts and my hair drifted in the breeze of their passing. Somehow I managed to skitter into the space between the middle and last blades. As they crossed the hallway, I glanced back in time to see a shadow fall across the floor at the base of the stairway. Then I was on the far side and ran into the darkness.
Several strides later, short of breath, I looked back again. This time I saw the stranger reach the blade trap. Without hesitation he strode unhurriedly through the speeding blades, untouched by them as if they weren’t there. His hood fluttered back from his face, and I had my first glimpse of the man who struck so much fear into my heart. Close-cropped dark hair, a short neatly trimmed beard outlining the squareness of his jaw, and wide cheekbones. Though I had never recognized him before, I did so now.
General Talos.
I half-whimpered, half-sobbed in panic and fled deeper into the maze.I startled awake when Cinnie’s weight left the bed in a disgusted leap. She moved to the hearth and began grooming herself as I sat up, gasping for breath. I wiped at the tears the nightmare invariably brought. My right hand crept over the mattress to the opposite side of the bed, where Wallace always slept. A sob escaped me when I recalled his funeral pyre. With a shiver, though the room was warm thanks to the banked fire, I slipped from beneath the sleeping pelts and made my way to the tall, narrow windows that looked north across the moor. I pulled the heavy drapes back, essential at this time of the year, and gazed out into the night. Across the field of the narrow embrasure, a scattering of stars lay across the black land, glittering with a softer, redder glow than the stars in the firmament above. I studied the bits of the constellations visible through rents in the overcast. There’s the Mage. It’s late. Or rather early. Dawn is just a couple of hours away. I could barely make out the heavy frost that lay on the manicured grass between the bailey walls and the moat, now full and reflecting black. Feels like snow. As I watched, the open spaces among the clouds disappeared. Drawing the drapes closed, I returned to the bed and sat on its edge. We can hold out through the winter. But can we survive an attack? If Talos digs in for the winter, he’ll be exposed to the weather. He’ll lose more men to frostbite and cold-wrought disease than he would assaulting our walls. There is also the problem of securing supplies for his army, so far from the Colovian Estates. The lands won’t support an army of his size for long. The seas will soon be too stormy for shipping. Time is on our side. But he knows this, and he won’t likely sit this one out. He intends to take us by force. Then why did he come to me with the offer of truce? Why bother when he can just overwhelm the castle and occupy it with his own forces?Cinnie leaped back onto the bed and rubbed her body against my side before padding into my lap. As I absent-mindedly stroked her fur, she arched her back beneath my chin, then turned around and repeated the same procedure from the other side. She continued purring as my thoughts returned to the problem of the siege. Do I dare hold out? Without Laird’s men, my forces are badly depleted. I can’t count on Broc to keep his men on alert, though I did see a few of them on the walls today. On the plus side, the stores we have laid by will last longer. If we can just hold Talos’s men off, we can make it through the winter. But when spring comes, then what? If Talos digs in for the long haul, he can keep us from replenishing our stocks. And if our crofters can’t get to their fields, what will they do? They may start drifting away from Cardonaccum. And I can’t keep so many people confined within the bailey for so long - we’ll suffer cold-wrought disease too, and those diseases common where people are forced to live on top of each other. Suddenly I couldn’t sit still any longer. I caught Cinnie in the act of settling herself into my lap and scooped her into my arms. I hugged her soft body before setting her down on the bed. Disgusted, she watched as I changed my clothes, pulling out my winter kirtle. The thick creamy linen fell around my slender body and covered my feet. Unlike the shorter skirts of the other women at Cardonaccum, which stopped at the ankles to both keep the hems from dragging in the dust and mud and to show off fancy shoes, mine trailed a little on the ground, keeping my feet warm. When I had first come to Cardonaccum, a scandalized Jannet tried to get me to wear shoes. As I had been barefoot as long as I could remember, I had been resistant at first. Finally I had given in when I became tired of the constant stares from the crofters and other folk who sought audience with Wallace. But wearing shoes severed my connection with Nirn in ways that stone and timber floors did not. My normally healthy appetite disappeared. I began experiencing my nightmares almost nightly, instead of once a sevenday or two. A chill settled into my lungs, and I began coughing blood. Then my menses stopped, and everyone thought I had become pregnant. Everyone except me. I knew something was wrong with me. I lost weight and became too weak to tend to my new duties as Lady of Cardonaccum. It was Wallace who saved my life. Wallace who plucked me from my sickbed and carried me out into the moat, dry at the time. Wallace who forbade me to ever wear shoes again, and helped me stand on my bare feet in the reeds and mud at the bottom of the moat. It was Wallace who taught me not to hide from myself, but to accept me for who I am - a magicka-less Witch with a deep connection to the bones and blood of Nirn. Ever since then, I had worn the long skirts so strangers wouldn’t stare so much at my feet, their soles callused and hard from a lifetime of contact with ground, stones and timber. If I had ever doubted that Wallace loved me, those doubts disappeared that chilly spring day in the moat beneath the drawbridge. And I had loved him with my whole heart ever since. And tonight - tonight my heart felt empty, bloodless, a hollow husk of its former self. Enough of this self-pity. What would Wallace want you to do for Cardonaccum? I fished out the dark brown woolen cotehardie and slipped it on over the kirtle. As I laced up the front, my fingers hesitated. What would Wallace do for this place? Why was this so important to him? I caught up the black winter cloak and Thistlethorn. With Cirsium gone, I’d best keep Thistlethorn with me at all times. The donjon was quiet as I slipped out into the bailey. I could see movement on the walls caused by the watch pacing their rounds. Stamping sounds reached me while I crossed the courtyard. Instead of entering the gate towers, I used the exterior stair to gain the parapets atop the walls. The thistlemen greeted me with some surprise as I passed them, one after the other. The watch lieutenant, a burly-chested Breton, met me as I stepped into the southeastern corner tower. “Milady?” “I just c- came to see how everything was atop the walls,” I answered his unspoken question. “It’s a miserable t- time of the night, and miserable weather.” “Aye, that it is,” he agreed, nodding his shaggy head. “Do you need to speak to Robert?” Suddenly I knew what I needed to do. “Yes, please. Please ask him t- to meet me over the postern gate.” “Very well, milady,” he bowed, then opened the door to let me onto the eastern wall of the bailey. Robert met me on the north wall, his cloak snapping in the breeze that had built up as the sky crept toward dawn. As I looked up at him, snowflakes hit my cheeks. Robert glanced at the dark overcast. “Bad weather on the way. It might work in our favor.” He lowered his eyes to me. “What is on your mind, milady?” “Where would General T- Talos pitch his tent?” I got right to the point. It was too cold to take longer. Robert’s brows rose in startled bemusement. He lifted his eyes to the scattered campfires spread across the moor. “He’d want to be on high ground, where he can see as much of the area as he can,” he said finally, turning to point eastward. I gazed at the foothills that sprawled along the base of the snow-capped Wrothgarians. Already I could see snow dusting the higher peaks of the hills. Robert regarded me silently for a few moments. “You can’t be thinking what I’m thinking you’re thinking,” he muttered. I met his gaze. “And what is that?” “You’re going to accept his proposal,” Robert stepped past me to lean his roughened hands on the stone parapet. He gazed out over the moor. “Do you see any other way to keep Cardonaccum alive?” I asked. “You and I both know that General T- Talos can’t stay here much longer. It’s because time is so limited for him, that it’s limited for us.” I moved to stand beside Robert, gazing out at the constellations of campfires a few miles away. “We can resist him, withstand anything except dragons -“ “And there are no dragons left,” Robert added. “But I hear he has a very powerful battlemage allied with him.” “Yes, and that’s why we can’t be too c- complacent about waiting him out.” I drew my cloak closer around me against the wind. “The General can’t stay here and starve us out - his supply lines are too vulnerable. And he can’t turn back south and leave a hostile holding in his rear.” “But can you trust him to keep his word on the truce, any truce you may strike with him?” Robert asked. “After all, he slaughtered your kinsmen after they surrendered to him.” I closed my eyes at the reminder. “Don’t forget, we don’t have the entire story,” I responded. “For all we know, th- they were plotting to stab him in the back, and he was just taking care of a threat in the most effective way possible.” “How can you say that about your own father and brother?” Robert exclaimed softly, turning his head in my direction. I kept my eyes on the distant encampment. “I know th- them too well,” I could hear the coldness in my voice, the coldness I felt every time I thought of them. “My father turned on my mother when she trusted him. H- he betrayed me, too, though it’s nothing compared to the other.” I shook my head. “It wouldn’t surprise me that they were going to t- turn on the General once they had what they wanted.” “So slaughtering twenty-three countrymen in cold blood can be forgiven?” I sighed. “I don’t know what to th- think,” I said finally. “But after having met the General, I’m not so certain he’s so cold-blooded as the stories say.” Or as he appears in my nightmares. Robert paced away from me, then spun slowly on his heel and returned, his expression inscrutable in the torchlight. Finally he lifted his gaze to me. “How do you propose to do this?” “I must go to him,” I answered slowly, hoping my stutter wouldn’t worsen. “And I must do it now. Neither of us has time. If he hasn’t attacked us yet, h- he’ll do it tonight for certain.” I inhaled slowly, drawing on the strength I could feel in the stones beneath my feet. “But I can’t leave Cardonaccum without a leader. I’ll go alone, and you must lead h- here until I return.” I faced him fully. “It would be best if folk didn’t know of my absence as long as possible.” “You should have someone accompany you, one of the thistlemen -“ Robert began, but I shook my head. “There is a reason I go barefoot even in the coldest depths of winter,” I said softly. “I go alone, and I will be fine.”
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jack cloudy |
Sep 22 2013, 07:55 PM
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Master

Joined: 11-February 06
From: In a cold place.

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Well, I figured that Laird wanting to return later was a given. But it doesn't matter anymore. He threw the dice and lost. Now the biggest remaining (internal) threat is mister adonis. Moving on, nightmares are never pleasant. Sure, I suppose mine aren't quite as bad, but after more than ten years of having the same drat subject repeat over and over I'm more tired than terrified of it. And I picked up an odd habit of going lucid which results in said nightmares being punched in the face. That helps. Anyhow, I thought the flashback was interesting. Not just as a reaffirmation of Cora's trust in the late Wallace, but also as quite clearly showing that the barefootedness is more than a cultural quirk. One other thing that I realized which works against the thistlemen in a siege. Talos pretty much owns Cardonaccum's lands. That means that he can ruin the fields. So even if he does retreat, the holding's ability to regrow food during spring and summer will be seriously impaired with all the problems that means. As a result, Cora seeking another meeting with the general comes as no surprise. That she wants to do it all alone is though. One question remains now for me. Does she leave the sword with Robert or take it with her? On the one hand Robert could be opposed by Broc if he doesn't have the symbol of rulership and the thistlemen could see her taking the sword away from the castle as a betrayal. On the other, Robert having Thistlethorn could be seen as a sign that Cora is gone or that Robert betrayed her. (hey, even if that is patently false and all, Broc can always claim it as leverage against Robert.)
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Fabulous hairneedle attack! I'm gonna be bald before I hit twenty.
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Captain Hammer |
Sep 23 2013, 04:28 AM
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Knower

Joined: 6-March 09

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And so I am caught up again. Huzzah for a weekend in bed (or chairs) with a miserable cold. Go me. I was trying to picture where that nightmare was supposed to be occurring and what it meant before the good ol' triple-blade trap made its appearance. That was a nice touch, and Cora's discomfort only made it better. So, if Cora is wearing shoes, she starts to experience the effects Supes gets when exposed to background Kryptonite poisoning? I'll keep that in mind whenever I have to invade parts of High Rock after I take care of a few things. Though I have to ask you to stop showing Wallace to be all the types of awesomeness he appears to have been. I'm starting to develop a massive man-crush on him. Not the same type of fanboyism I have for a certain other person, but still one I'm going to have keep in check. QUOTE(haute ecole rider @ Sep 22 2013, 02:19 PM)  "Where would General T-Talos pitch his tent?"
*Cappy suddenly crouches down and begins looking around.* Really? And here I thought Dhertee Innu Endo was about to sneak attack me. Huh. Weird. QUOTE(haute ecole rider @ Sep 22 2013, 02:19 PM)  “We can resist him, withstand anything except dragons -“
“And there are no dragons left,” Robert added.
Ha! Good one. Robert doesn't know that his statement requires a 'For now' to be appended to it for accuracy. One nit: QUOTE(haute ecole rider @ Sep 22 2013, 02:19 PM)  His face did not show beneath the shadow of the hood, but the steel hilt of his sword depending from his side glittered in the harsh light.
I don't believe swords are used to fight incontinence (though they seem to cause it in others...). And unless the masked man is holding his sword straight up at his side, the hilt is unlikely to be descending from such a position, either. Perhaps 'protruding' or 'extending' would be appropriate here. I love this little exchange: QUOTE “For all we know, th- they were plotting to stab him in the back, and he was just taking care of a threat in the most effective way possible.”
“How can you say that about your own father and brother?” Robert exclaimed softly, turning his head in my direction.
I kept my eyes on the distant encampment. “I know th- them too well,” I could hear the coldness in my voice, the coldness I felt every time I thought of them. Ah, the joys of family. I am not surprised. The general was confidant during his meeting with Lady Cora that his words would be heard and his blood stored safely in his veins. Methinks the obligations of family doth protest too much the more important obligations of not being a total guar-posterior. So, Lady Cora is going to ride out, alone, to accept the offer of alliance, from the masked man of nightmares-turned-Dragonborn general of the empire. I wonder how things will fare this time when Lady Cora is the guest and the host is GENERAL TALOS STORMCROWN, DRAGON OF THE NORTH!!!!D@mnit. Almost an entire post and I still couldn't help myself.
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My fists are not the Hammer! 100% Tamriel Department of Awesomeness (TDA) Certified Grade-A Dragonborn. Do not use before 11/11/11. Product of Tamriel.Awtwyr Draghoyn: The FanFic; The FanArt.
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Acadian |
Sep 23 2013, 11:28 AM
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Paladin

Joined: 14-March 10
From: Las Vegas

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Loved your use of the same type of blade trap that we all have had to navigate in various dungeons in Cyrodiil. It was neat to actually experience one of Cora’s dreams about Talos that she had previously only mentioned. Then, I couldn’t suppress a chuckle over how much comfort the unconcerned dear little cat provided when Cora awoke. Extra long skirts are just the thing to keep a barefooted witch’s feet warm! What an endearing story of how Wallace supported Cora in that regard. We have always held Wallace in great respect for his leadership and judgment, but this brief memory really let us 'see' how much he loved Cora. What a precious memory! ‘...his cloak snapping in the breeze...’ - - Beautiful imagery here. “There is a reason I go barefoot even in the coldest depths of winter,” I said softly. “I go alone, and I will be fine.” - - I may be mistaken here, but I think I detect a hint (or perhaps a foreshadow?) that the barefoot witch is not as defenseless as she appears. Not with all the magic of Mother Nirn at her feet.
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ghastley |
Sep 23 2013, 03:27 PM
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Councilor

Joined: 13-December 10

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Since Talos has played the card of putting himself in her camp to indicate that he was in a position of strength that allowed him to do so, it's fitting that Cora repays in kind. Acadian has already pointed out that "the barefoot witch is not as defenseless as she appears" and she'd probably like Talos to understand that, too.
Nice cameo from the cat. We need more Cinnie!
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Mods for The Elder Scrolls single-player games, and I play ESO.
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haute ecole rider |
Sep 29 2013, 06:34 PM
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Master

Joined: 16-March 10
From: The place where the Witchhorses play

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@jackcloudy: You're right, the besieged won't have access to their resources outside the castle. That is part of the reason Lady Cora decided to go see General Talos. She is concerned about having enough supplies to get through the upcoming winter, let alone a siege on top of it. She can't be certain that General Talos has not solved his logistics problem.
@Sage Rose: I rather suspected that you would enjoy the little story behind Lady Cora's barefootedness. It is something unique to this protagonist, and something that I feel rather balances the fact that she is a Breton, which tend to be rather overpowered magically in the game (as I'm discovering with my latest PC).
@BamBam: Thanks for the nit - I went back and fixed it. Of course, I have to make Wallace pretty darn cool in his own right, otherwise Lady Cora would be too easily overwhelmed by the awesomeness that is THE ONE AND ONLY DRAGONBORN OF THE NORTH!!!
@Acadian: I figured it was time we saw the sort of dreams General Talos keeps appearing in. Of course, I kept thinking of Emperor Uriel's line 450 years later . . . "You, I've seen you in my dreams . . ."! Cats are fun to write as they are independent creatures and do as they please. Most of the time they please to behave as the Cheshire Cat and disappear/reappear at their own whim. Yes, big comfort indeed!
ghastley: You make a good point about Lady Cora wanting to show that she is undaunted by General Talos. I rather suspect her choice to go alone to Talos's camp is a mild affliction of one-upmanship - she has more guts to show up by herself, without even the skeleton escort Talos took with him to Cardonaccum. Yes, we need more Cinnie!
@Grits: One of the most frustrating things about posting things on this forum is that it forces you to present the story in bite-sized pieces, rather than as a full seven-course meal. (Can you tell I'm trying to figure out what to make for dinner tonight??).
The story so far: Sir Laird and his retinue has fled Cardonaccum, with the shield Cirsium and the Pillsbury Priest in tow. Unfortunately, we know of his death at the hands of the Legion troops in the dean below the castle. What we do not yet know is the fate of Lady Edine, her sons, or Onchu. Lady Cora has made her decision regarding General Talos's proposal and has set off before dawn to seek him out.
*************************** Chapter Fourteen
My feet followed an unseen path through the brambles that cloaked the foothills. The sky beyond the Wrothgarians began to lighten when I heard a rustling off to one side. I stopped and froze in place, turning my head left then right to locate the sounds. Almost immediately the noise stopped. Too big to be a deer. Can’t be bear, they’ve already gone to ground for the winter. Could I have already reached Talos’s outposts?
When the silence persisted, I continued forward, holding my cloak closely around me to avoid entanglement in the thickets. A few strides later the rustling sounded again, this time in front of me. Once more I stopped and peered ahead through the gnarled branches. A dark form appeared before me, broad-shouldered and bulky. With a soft susurrus of mail, the stranger pushed the brambles aside. I held my ground and waited.
He looked down at me silently, then his hands shifted. A greenish glow followed a snapping sound, and a globe of light took shape in his cupped palm. He held it up so its light fell on me. “Let me see your face.”
My hands shook with more than the cold as I obeyed his command. His eyes widened as he took in my appearance. I knew he had seen the green mote in my left eye. I had inherited the dark brown eyes with ice-green flecks from my father, even though I had not inherited his magical ability. While both of his eyes had several such marks, I only possess the one in my left eye. But it was my trait, the one feature people recognized me by.
“What brings you here, Lady Cora of Cardonaccum?” the soldier asked.
I swallowed some moisture back into my mouth. “I seek General Talos,” I answered. For once my stutter remained mute in spite of my anxiety and fear.
He considered me a moment more, then dispelled the light with a toss of his hand. More magicka sparkled from his hand, winding in thin trails through the branches to either side of us. Then he stepped back and motioned for me to follow him.
He’s a ranger, I realized suddenly. Talos must have forest rangers as outposts here. Makes sense - they can communicate without sounds. That white magicka - that was his way of signaling the other sentries. Wonder what his orders were? Hold the line? I shook myself and concentrated on keeping up with his longer strides over the rough ground.
Before long we reached a small stream, flat stones protruding above the chuckling water. Beyond, the brambles had been cleared away, and neat groups of tents clustered together around campfires.
The ranger stepped onto the stones, then paused in the center of the watercourse and extended his hand back to me. Silently I declined his offer of help and made my way easily across the stones, ice already forming on some of them.
The camp was mostly quiet, with very few men patrolling between the tents. Those that saw us eyed me speculatively, but did not detain or question my escort. Finally we reached a cluster of four larger tents, each with a brace of guards before its entrance. A burly man, a sergeant by the white scarf around his right arm, rose from his seat beside the fire, setting aside his whittling stick and sheathing his dagger. “Hullo, Lucius. Who’s that?”
“Lady Cardonaccum,” the ranger answered. “She is looking for the General.”
“Is she alone?” The sergeant did not spare me a glance. I stepped forward.
“Yes, I am.” This time the sergeant did look at me. His gaze traveled over me from head to hem and back again, lingering on the hilt of Thistlethorn visible above my left shoulder.
“You’ll have to give me that weapon,” he held his hand out decisively.
“No, I will not,” I answered. Somehow I managed not to quail at the look in his face. This is a man who seldom hears ‘no.’ “I will not go before General Talos unarmed.”
His eyes narrowed, and the sergeant took a step toward me. Lucius stopped him with an arm across his chest. “Look at her, man,” he said softly. “That claymore’s as big as she is. Do you honestly think she can do harm with it?”
“She’s a Witch,” the sergeant growled. “And Witches can do things mere mortals can’t!”
“I wish that were true,” I drew his attention back to me. “But I h- have no magic.” I waved my hands around the tents. “And I’m outnumbered. There’s no harm I c- can do to General Talos or any of you.”
“I don’t believe that!” the sergeant growled, but he fell back to the fire.
“Where is the General?” Lucius asked.
“Asleep,” the sergeant responded, jerking his thumb at the smallest tent. “He was up late, and I ain’t waking him for this Witch!”
Lucius shot him a glare, then turned and walked to the indicated shelter. The sergeant did not take his eyes off of me, and his hand dropped to the hilt of his sword. I remained where Lucius had left me and folded my hands in front of me, my eyes downcast.
“General?” Lucius’s voice reached me. “Lady Cardonaccum’s here.”
I could hear the startled response from within, but I couldn’t make out the muttering that followed. Lucius responded with a “Yes, sir,” and turned back to me. “The General will be out shortly.”
“Thank you, sir,” I murmured, not moving otherwise.
The tent flap snapped back, and General Talos stepped out. Even in a dark doublet and leather greaves, he still conveyed an imposing presence. He moved to stand beside the sergeant, a few paces away. “Lady Cardonaccum,” he said. “I rather like the sound of that.”
I lifted my head and met his gaze. “It is what your man Lucius has chosen to c- call me, General.”
“And you came seeking me?” Talos continued. His gaze moved around the tents. “I’m sorry that I can’t offer you hospitality to match yours.”
“I do not r- require hospitality, General,” I answered.
Talos’s brows rose. “Then what do you require, Lady Cora?”
Slowly I let my breath out, then inhaled the cold air deeply. “Respect.”
His head reared back slightly. “Of course, Lady,” he answered coolly. “Let’s get out of this infernal wind. I don’t know how you can stand out here in bare feet.” He returned to his tent and lifted the flap for me.
Slowly, giving the baleful sergeant a wide berth, I walked to the tent and peered inside. Small. A table, a chair, and a cot. And a groundsheet. I met Talos’s gaze. “Since you know s- so much about me, General, you will understand if I r- refuse to step inside your tent.”
His mouth twitched, and he glanced within his shelter. His gaze moved from the thick woolen floor to the trailing hem of my skirts. “Of course.” He lowered the flap and pointed out the larger tent to the left. “Then let’s use that one. It’s where I meet with my staff.” He turned to Lucius. “Thank you for escorting the Lady. You may return to your post.”
“Yes, General,” Lucius saluted him with a fist slammed on his mailed chest. He faded back into the night as I followed Talos to the staff tent. Inside, braziers lit a long table surrounded by chairs. Rushes covered the dirt that floored the shelter. Neatly rolled scrolls in a stack rested in a tray at one end of the table.
“Do you approve, Lady Cora?” Talos asked. I nodded and stepped inside. He dropped the flap and secured it against the wind, then gestured me toward a nearby chair near one of the braziers. I seated myself, silently grateful for the warmth emanating from the shallow bowl. Talos moved to a sideboard, where a samovar crouched among small pewter cups. He filled two of them and returned. I looked up as he set one on the table before me. Talos took the chair next to mine and turned it to face me, then sipped at his cup as he sat down.
I regarded the cup he had given me. The steaming fluid was dark colored and aromatic.
“Do you think I would be foolish enough to poison you, Lady Cora?” Talos asked when I glanced at him. “I’m certain you left orders with your man Robert at Cardonaccum. Orders that would be costly for me or my men.”
Cautiously I picked up the mug and swirled the fluid within. The aroma was new - warm, rich and - slightly burnt? Its heat warmed my cold fingers.
“Have you ever had klah?” Talos’s gaze was steady when I looked back at him. I shook my head. “It’s like a Stamina potion - it wakes you up and gives you energy. Some people are addicted to the taste, others detest it. I’m curious to see which camp you fall into, Lady Cora.”
I cupped both hands around the klah and sipped warily at it. At first I could only taste hot, but as I held it in my mouth, additional depth of flavor developed. Dark, almost burnt. A little acidic. Bitter, like strong tea, but not as astringent. And the aftertaste is interesting. I looked up to see Talos watching me intently. Carefully I set the cup back on the table. “It’s intriguing,” I said finally. “And something I could become accustomed to.”
His mouth twitched in that curious manner, but Talos hid his expression behind his mug as he drank the klah a little more heartily. “It’s from Valenwood,” he said. “They’ve begun exporting it to the Colovian Estates.”
I found myself taking another sip of the klah. This time, I kept it cradled in my hands, welcoming its warmth.
“Well, Lady Cora,” Talos set his cup on the table with a decisive click. “What did you come here for?”
“What happened to the knight’s party your men s- stopped on the road yesterday afternoon?”
His brows lifted. “Sir Laird? He’s dead,” he rose and moved to the stack of scrolls. He selected one and unrolled it partway. “Yes, along with about half of his men. One got away, on the wife’s palfrey. The horse was injured, and last seen running back to Cardonaccum.” He looked at me with a question in his eyes.
“The horse is fine,” I answered. “The rider died shortly after he arrived.”
“Tsk, tsk,” Talos shook his head. “If only Sir Laird had surrendered when my sentries stopped him.”
“You said h- half of his men were killed?” I asked. “But only one made it back to us. Where are the rest?”
Talos returned to his chair and sat down. “I thought Sir Laird betrayed you?”
I looked down at the klah. “Where are the other men? And his wife? His sons?”
Talos leaned back and rested his right elbow on the table. He rubbed at his beard, his eyes on me thoughtful. “Why does it matter to you?” His fingers waved briefly before returning to his jawline. “Oh, that’s right, that was half your fighting force Sir Laird took out of Cardonaccum. Do you want them back?”
“They’re alive?” I held his gaze and waited.
“For the most part,” he answered, taking another draught of the klah. “The oldest son died with his father, the other two and his wife are prisoners, along with the surviving men-at-arms.” He leaned forward, his right hand dangling off the edge of the table. “Do you want them back?”
Do I? They betrayed me. What if Edine and her sons feel the same way about me as Sir Laird did? Would I want a nest of vipers back in my donjon? “I’d like to speak to Edine first,” I said finally. “And see the men. Though their knight betrayed me, I’m still responsible for them.”
“If I give them back to you, what shall you give me in return?” Talos asked.
I regarded the klah, then took another sip while considering my words. He waited patiently as I took my time. “Do you remember what you said to me yesterday?” I said finally.
“Very well,” he answered. “What about it?”
“I’ve given your words a great deal of th- thought, and -“ I paused. Once I say it, there’s no going back. I won’t be able to avoid the man of my nightmares anymore. But even if it kills me, so long as it keeps the folk of Cardonaccum safe, I have to do it. “I’ll do it. I’ll be your ally, so long as you support me as Lord of C- Cardonaccum.”
“Then let’s do it,” Talos rose and gathered parchment together. “Let’s draw up this damned truce.” He stopped and looked at me. “Are you certain you want Laird’s people back?”
“Not if they’re of the same mind as he was,” I answered. “In that case, I’m content to let you deal with them as you see fit. I have enough to worry about with Sir Broc.”
Talos’s response was noncommittal. He pulled the chair up to the table and began writing. “Here’s the outline of what I was thinking,” he said as he scribbled swiftly. I envied him his ease with the quill. “I declare you the rightful Lord of Cardonaccum. So far as local issues go, you have the sole authority. Neither I nor my representative will tell you how to run your holding. If anyone challenges your right to hold the seat of Cardonaccum, my men will augment yours and defend your position. Lieutenant Titus Alorius will report directly to you, and only to you. I will be the only one to hold the authority to supersede your orders to the good Lieutenant. In return, you will place outposts at the western end of An Sloc to monitor movements of Bretons and Orcs in the Wrothgarians. Any untoward activity will be immediately reported to me. You will also provide complete logistical support to my men at the same caliber and quality as received by your own men.” The quill paused as he glanced at me. “All right so far?”
Momentarily stunned by the swiftness of Talos’s actions, I nodded silently.
“Now the contingencies. If Lieutenant Alorius should disagree with your decisions, he is to advise you accordingly and -“ he caught my gaze again, “- with full respect. Both of you will be expected to resolve any such situations in a manner equally satisfactory to both of you. If such a compromise is not possible, then Lieutenant Alorius must report to me, and likewise you must send me a written report stating your side of the issue.” The quill continued scribbling as he fell silent. After a few moments, he continued, “If he should die while in your service, you are to immediately notify me and request a replacement liaison if you wish to keep the legionaries. This truce is terminated if you decide not to keep the legionaries, if you die without a successor nominated by yourself, or if I die.” He met my gaze. “It is considered null and void if I should fail to support you in your right to rule Cardonaccum, also if you fail to uphold your vigilance of An Sloc. It can also be terminated by mutual agreement between you and I. Fair enough?”
I held out my hand for the parchments. “May I, General?”
He set the quill down and handed me the contract. While I read it carefully, he returned to the samovar with his cup and refilled it. He was back in his chair waiting patiently when I finally looked up from the truce.
“One thing,” I began. “How do I know that you aren’t posting Lieutenant Alorius at C- Cardonaccum with the implicit purpose of gathering intelligence?”
“That would be his primary duty, of course,” Talos’s gaze on me was unflinching. “I require intelligence of movements in An Sloc, in the holdings surrounding you, and of any news from the Western Reaches.”
“And C- Cardonaccum,” I added.
“Of course,” he agreed. “It’s natural for me to be concerned how my newest ally is doing.”
This post has been edited by haute ecole rider: Sep 29 2013, 06:59 PM
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SubRosa |
Sep 30 2013, 01:43 AM
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Ancient

Joined: 14-March 10
From: Between The Worlds

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As expected Lady Cora has encountered Talos' sentries. But this is no ordinary sentinel. His light spell is the first sign, and then his magical signalling. It also seems that he has been told to expect her visit. I wonder if he had been one of the men who had been with the General at Cardonaccum? Or he had just been given a description of her? It was also nice to have this new insight about Cora's appearance. Her green flecks are clearly one more little sign of her being a Witchwoman of the Western Reach, along with her barefoot connection to Nirn. “No, I will not,”This made me want to cheer! “I’m sorry that I can’t offer you hospitality to match yours.”I guess he does not have a salt room! I see Sir Laird got what was coming to him. I expect that Lady Cora will try to get his wife released at least. Though I think a lot depends on how disagreeable she is. If she supports Cora, that can only help her cause, and she can come back home with the surviving soldiers and claim a sort of victory. Somewhat like the way Nikita Kruschev was able to declare the Cuban Missile Crisis a victory because he could tout how he saved Cuba from being attacked by America. Well she made her alliance with Talos official. I was expecting that. What other choice does she really have? I am not surprised at how quickly Talos laid out his demands. I am sure he has been thinking of it for a long time. This post has been edited by SubRosa: Sep 30 2013, 01:48 AM
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ghastley |
Sep 30 2013, 03:05 PM
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Councilor

Joined: 13-December 10

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QUOTE “And see the men. Though their knight betrayed me, I’m still responsible for them.” Not that we needed any more evidence that she's the right one for the job. I was expecting her to get a bit closer to Talos before she was detected, but you added magic-using rangers and changed the balance somewhat. She's got the same terms she would have had before Laird left, and Talos has dealt with that problem for her, so preventing a damaging siege is worth it at this stage. If Titus Alorius is the antidote to Broc, she's done well.
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Mods for The Elder Scrolls single-player games, and I play ESO.
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haute ecole rider |
Oct 6 2013, 10:11 PM
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Master

Joined: 16-March 10
From: The place where the Witchhorses play

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@SageRose: I'm one of those writers who like to reveal a little bit of my character's physical appearance little by little. In a culture where people are judged on their appearances, and being no supermodel myself, I want my readers to get to know my characters as people, not as cardboard appearances. That said, I'm glad you liked that little detail. And yes, maybe Lucius and Company would have had those cards with the images of Lady Cora and her retinue, much as American GIs had of Saddam Hussein and Co. in Iraq! We will see the sort of character Lady Edine is soon (just not in today's update). I rather suspect that having lived a traditional life, she, like Lady Cora, will soon figure out just the stuff she is made of and come into her own now that her husband's shadow is removed. @Officer MyFavoriteCondiment: I rather liked Lucius, too. I really wanted to develop him more, but sadly enough, we won't be seeing more of him. I rather see him as being like Faramir in LOTR. @ghastley: Yes, General Talos has thought long and hard about what he wants to do in High Rock. As I see it, he developed this plan around Wallace, but thought Lady Cora would be an acceptable alternative when things didn't work out the way General Talos wanted with Wallace. @Acadian: You and I have the benefit of hindsight and the Lore, so we know that General Talos is going to be true to his word on this treaty. But Lady Cora doesn't know that yet. As for Lieutenant Alorius, I think you will like him very much. I certainly do! I doubt Lady Edine will disappoint you! @McB: I try to treat my minor characters with as much care as my major ones - after all, they are living breathing beings with their own lives, emotions, and stories! More than once I've found myself going back and giving a minor character in one story their own . . . The story so far: With Laird's precipitous departure and resulting death in a Legion ambush, Lady Cora has made the decision to go to General Talos and treat with him. The terms he has offered are reasonable and tolerable, though she still hates the idea of being submissive to a foreigner (ironic, as she is foreign to these parts herself - goes to show how much she loves Cardonaccum).****************************** Chapter FifteenIt took us another hour to hammer out the details of the truce. As we worked, I could hear the murmurs of men gathering outside the tent. Talos ignored them, intently focused on the contract. Finally he set the quill down and handed me the parchment. I found it difficult to concentrate on the writing as the voices outside gradually crescendoed. Talos inhaled sharply as if becoming aware of the men outside. “Excuse me a moment,” he said. I looked up briefly as he rose and moved to the tent flap. Grey light poured in as he flung it back. “Keep it down, gentlemen.” Silence followed his quiet command. “It will be just a few moments longer.” He returned to the table as I finished my review. “That looks fine to me,” I said finally. “What now?” “We get the scribe in here to make a copy of it.” Talos returned to the tent flap. “Lysander!” “Sir!” A thin man, grey with cold, entered the tent. His gaze flickered at me, then he glanced back at Talos, startled. “Lord Cardonaccum and I have written a truce,” Talos said. “I need you to make a neat copy of it.” The scribe moved to the table and picked it up. His lips moved silently as he read it. With a nod of approval he seated himself in the chair Talos had used. “How many copies, sir?” “Three,” Talos answered. The scribe set to work immediately, preparing a fresh quill and new parchment. “It will take but a few minutes, sir.” He bent to the clean sheet and began writing. His own hand was much neater and crisper than Talos’s. The general observed me watching the scribe, and motioned me to join him near the samovar. “That’s why I have a scribe,” he commented, refreshing my now-empty cup. “I’m surprised you could read my handwriting.” “Yours is far better than mine, General,” I responded before taking a sip of the fresh klah. Yes, I could grow to like this. But the strong tea’s still better. Talos clicked his cup softly against mine. “Here’s to a profitable alliance.” He regarded the dark liquid in his mug before swallowing it all down. “Too bad the wine is cold this time of day.” “That would be more appropriate for a t- treaty signing,” I agreed. “But this is fine given the c- circumstances,” I waved the cup around the tent. “This setting’s not so ideal, either.” Talos regarded me thoughtfully. “I knew I would like dealing with you, Lady Cora. You don’t put much stock in the trappings of politics and diplomacy. You’re about getting the job done.” I met his gaze. “I don’t have t- time, and neither do you.” Again I endured his penetrating scrutiny. “I shall have to be careful not to underestimate you, Lady Cora. Ever.” He glanced over at the scribe, then set his cup down beside the samovar and bowed to me. “Excuse me.” With long strides he crossed the tent to the entrance and flung the flap back. “Gentlemen, you may enter.” Six officers, resplendent in polished Legion armor, entered the shelter. The cloaked figure that brought up the rear seemed incongruous next to these soldiers, yet I could not take my eyes off of him. I could sense the power that emanated from his hidden form. His hood shifted in my direction, and I turned my gaze away hastily. I sensed his consideration of my presence, then he bowed to me before moving to the shadows still filling the corners of the tent. Lysander laid his quill down and rose to his feet. “It is done, sir,” he said to Talos. The general moved to stand beside the older man and regarded the parchment. “Very good. Go ahead.” Lysander shuffled two more sheets of clean parchment beneath the neat copy. Under his fingers the material glowed a soft green. As I watched, fascinated by a use of magicka I had never seen before, the inked letters glowed as if burning through the layers into the table. Yet the parchments remained intact. As the spell faded away, Lysander picked up the pieces and examined each of them. Satisfied, he handed them to Talos. The General performed a similar scrutiny, then waved to me to join him. Difficult as it was to ignore the stares from the officers now ranged around the table, I moved to Talos’s other side. He handed me the parchments. “Are these acceptable, Lord Cardonaccum?” Murmurs drifted around the table at the mention of my title, but rapidly died down at a quelling look from Talos. Talos was right, the scribe’s writing was much neater than his. I examined them carefully, and found them identical to Talos’s draft. I looked up and met his gaze. “More than acceptable, General.” “Very well,” Talos picked up the quill the scribe had used. He held it out to me. “Now we sign it. After you, Lady.” I hesitated a moment. Am I signing everything I promised Wallace away with this? But I can’t think of any way to make this more fair to Cardonaccum. As for dealing with the daedra, if that’s what it takes, I’m willing to give up my life for Wallace’s holding. My gaze moved from the quill to Talos’s face. Shadows hid his hazel eyes, but I could read no duplicity in his expression. And my little voice was silent. My hands shook as I laid the parchment on the table. Talos seemed mildly surprised when I plucked the quill left-handed from his fingers. I took a deep breath to steady my hand, then signed my name times three: Cora Ruthven. Silently I handed the quill back to him. The quill faltered over the parchments when he read my signature. “Ruthven? Not ap Askey?” “That was my father’s clan name,” I replied. “Ruthven is my mother’s.” Talos considered me a moment, then bent back to the sheets. “Makes sense,” he said as he signed with flourishes. He straightened up and sent another glance around the tent as Lysander gathered the sheets together and handed them to him. “Gentlemen,” he said to the gathered officers. “This is Lady Cora, Lord of Cardonaccum. She will stand as my ally here on the northern frontiers, and watch An Sloc. Any objections?” Negative murmurs greeted his question. He nodded in satisfaction and turned back to me. “Here is your copy,” he handed me the first sheet. “And this is mine,” he laid the second on the table in front of him. “And Drusus, please take this for the officers.” He handed the third to the eldest soldier present. The older man, about the same age as Laird, took the parchment with a salute. “Make certain all the officers understand its terms. And send out the order to begin pulling the men back to Thistle Downs.” Drusus saluted Talos again and left the tent. The General eyed the remaining officers. “Roos, Forsus, have the Rangers scout the road to Bluestone Tower and clear the way. Skvar, set the rearguard up here. And Odwalt, you have the prisoners, correct?” “Yes sir.” The younger of the two Nord officers nodded. “Two of the men died of their wounds during the night,” he added. “Do you want me to get them ready for transport?” “Not yet,” Talos turned back to me. “ Do you still wish to see Laird’s people?” “Yes, please,” I answered. “Very well,” Talos turned back to Odwalt. “Please take the Lady to see your prisoners. I shall join you at your camp in about an hour or so.” “Yes sir,” Odwalt nodded, then turned his blue gaze on me. Unlike Robert’s shaggy mane, his flaxen hair formed a close-cropped cap on his head, and his beard was trimmed short, like Talos’s. I realized that these Legion men favored the shorter styles as it made wearing the closed helms more comfortable. Odwalt’s only concession to his Nord heritage was the long mustache that drooped down either side of his mouth past his chin. Odwalt moved to the tent flap and held it open for me. “After you, Lady.” I stepped out into a much different scene than the one just a couple of hours ago. No longer quiet, the camp now bustled with men in various kinds of armor, all moving purposefully from one place to another. Horses whinnied and stamped, and squires darted past carrying pieces of plate and miscellaneous weapons. Somewhere beyond the tents, I could hear the clear calls of drill sergeants and the unified footfalls of men moving in formation. The big Nord led me through the maze of tents and soldiery in a southerly direction. “My camp is set up in the valley before Cardonaccum - you call it a dean, I believe?” he remarked over his shoulder. “Yes, any steep-sided valley is a dean in th- these parts,” I answered. Odwalt grunted noncommittally. He paused near a picket line where horses waited and considered me thoughtfully. “I’ll walk,” I said firmly. A dubious expression passed over his features. “’Tis a long way,” he began. “I know these parts well,” I answered. “And I can walk quite fast. You can ride, if you’d like.” His blue eyes flashed briefly as he turned away from me and continued past the mounts - on foot. As we worked our way through the hills to the moor, I began to regret not accepting the unspoken offer of a horse. Each of Odwalt’s long strides ate up thrice as much ground as mine. But I kept up with him, gripping the baldric over my left shoulder to ease the weight of Thistlethorn. The sun had risen higher when we passed Cardonaccum and reached the eastern edge of the dean. Odwalt found the goat’s trail, its brush cleared back to allow passage of horses and armed men single file, and started the descent. Tumbled boulders blocked the rough path for anything less nimble than the little creatures that thrived within the valley. Quite often Odwalt paused to assist me over obstructions. “I did not know they taught chivalry in Skyrim,” I commented as his hand lifted me over yet another rock. Odwalt glanced sidelong at me. “T’ain’t chivalry, Lady,” he said as I returned to the dirt of the track beside him. “’Tis self-preservation. The General would flay the blue off my skin if I let any harm come t’ ye.” He indicated the whorled tattoos that covered the backs of his hands and extended beneath the long sleeves of his leather jerkin. “Were you the one who took Laird’s men prisoner?” I asked as we progressed further down the trail. Odwalt considered my question for several silent steps. “Aye, my men did,” he said finally. “Laird spotted my outposts and attacked them.” He shook his head in disapproval. “Fool, that one.” His tone held a scathing censure. “Thought that was all there was to us. Apparently when the rest of my men came up the road, he was off guard.” Again he met my gaze briefly. “I’m sorry, Lady. T’ain’t no offense to the dead meant.” “You just summed up Sir Laird’s nature quite accurately,” I answered. “He was always impetuous. Wallace always had to hold him back, make him wait while milord assessed the situation.” “Too bad Lord Wallace is dead,” Odwalt said bluntly. “If General Talos had had the chance to speak with him like he wanted, we wouldn’t be in this mess.” I stopped in the center of the path. “And whose fault is th- that?” Odwalt stopped a few strides away and turned back to me. “No one,” he answered as bluntly as before. “Lord Wallace did what he had t’do, and so did General Talos.” I stared at him, until he shifted his gaze away from me. “Forgive my rough speech, Lady. I know no courtly talk.” I stepped toward him. “I’d prefer the rough speech, sir,” I said. “It’s honest.” “’Tis truth,” Odwalt resumed his walk. “It’s just that t- truth is often painful.” I added, eliciting a noncommittal response from the big Nord. A/N: Odwalt is one of those characters who jumped fully formed into my mind as I was developing this scene. As much as I liked Lucius, for me Odwalt is much like General Camillus in another story. In any case, he has inspired me to pick up a pen/stylus and start sketching again.
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SubRosa |
Oct 7 2013, 12:59 AM
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Ancient

Joined: 14-March 10
From: Between The Worlds

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I kept looking for a sweetroll during the negotiations. But I suppose coffee will do. As always, I loved the real world application of xerox magic in the hands of the scribe. I was hoping for something like that. I wonder what the commotion is outside the general's tent? hmm, from that sense of power in the cloaked figure, I am going to take a stab and say that is Zurin Arctus. I appreciated that Lady Cora signed her name using her mother's last name, not her father's. Especially given the betrayal hinted at by her father. Odwalt is an interesting, plain-spoken Nord soldier. I wonder if we will be seeing more of him?
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ghastley |
Oct 7 2013, 02:59 PM
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Councilor

Joined: 13-December 10

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Was the "xerox magic", as SubRosa has called it, green because it's illusion, or because that's how real xeroxes work? I think it's a mix of illusion and alteration, so pale green seems appropriate.
I liked the little aside about Cora feeling the weight of Thistlethorn. A nice metaphor.
And I'm just as curious about the unnamed "person of power", and why he's there.
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Mods for The Elder Scrolls single-player games, and I play ESO.
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Acadian |
Oct 7 2013, 03:28 PM
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Paladin

Joined: 14-March 10
From: Las Vegas

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SubRosa nailed the highlights here – I fondly remember Destri’s little negotiating sweet roll as well! Document duplicating magic, the mysterious cloaked figure, all very neat! Good on Cora for using her mother’s clan name. I’m surprised, given that TES women completely control racial DNA, that the whole world there is not more matriarchal. I guess the BethSoft devs got a little too much Roman Empire earthiness on them during game design. Seems like Cora really wants to keep those bare feet in firm contact with Mother Nirn – no horses for her. Of course. . . perhaps with the right horse, she could develop a bond to Nirn flowing up to her from trusted hooves? Oops, sorry – thinking like a horse-crazy elf again. Odwalt is a refreshingly different fellow, and I agree with Cora in liking his simple and direct manner.
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