This is my first post so first things first... Hello!
The story's a little different (you'll know what I mean when you've read it), but I hope you like it. It's going to be reasonably long but I might split it up into parts. It's rough, unedited, but criticism and advice is welcome.
The general plot [Contains minor spoilers]:
This is a tale of a prophecy not as accurate as one of the Elder Scrolls. A Conman from Daggerfall is released from prison and sent by the Blades of Uriel Septim to Elsweyr, where it is foretold he will undo a great evil lurking in the desert. However, things start to go wrong as soon as he meets his new companions and as he embarks on his epic quest, all is not as it appears.
___Legionnaire: Fist of the Empire___
?Ere Grot? whispered a dirty soldier to his companion across the cluttered tavern table ?You ?erd ?bout this transfer we?re getting in? A right nutter they say? Full of the madness and as strong as an Orc. God?s knows why we need ?im. We do a bloody good job dun? we Grot. Eh??
The soldier who answered to the name ?Grot? nodded and smiled, bearing for all to see, a decrepit pit of blackened teeth that swayed hypnotically in their sockets.
?True Scant, True. I rec??
?Nah, can?t fer the life of me figure it out. Sure, crime?s worse ?ere den anywhere else in the Empire, but it?s bloody Elsweyr ain?t it! They can?t blame us fer that can they? Bloody burocak? beurocram? beurockr? Bloody politicians, that?s who I blame! Thinking they can fix fings by doing? other fings? Makes me mad Grot. That?s what it does.?
?Right you are Scant. politicians always??
?I mean, everywhere you look there?s flaming cats! ?ow you supposed to police cats eh? They jus? do what they want. That?s what cat?s do. Now, if this place were full o? dogs, that?d be a different story. Dogs are obedient you see. You can train a dog. Ain?t never seen a trained cat!?
?I ?ave Scant. Back home in Skingrad. Timmy ?e was called. ?e used to balance this ball on his nose when his owner blew a whistle? Bloody brilliant it was. I used to say to me ma ?look at that Cat ma? ain?t never seen a cat do that before.?. Bloody brilliant!?
?Really??
?Aye, true story. Shame though??
?Shame Grot??
?Aye, ?e was so clever that when that famine hit Colovia fifteen years back? You know, when there was that big freeze? ?is family chose to eat their son instead of their pet like everyone else was doin?. Weird bunch though? I mean, who trains a cat ?eh??
?Aye.? Agreed Scant before draining his mug of ale. ?Another two beers Ange.? He shouted.
?So who?s this new fella then? I ?ere ?e?s a member of the Blades, sent ?ere by appointment of Baron Austerhiech himself!?
?Baron who??
?Well I dunno.? Replied Grot with a shrug ?Sounds important though Dunnie!?
?Nah, I ?eard ?e?s a Daedra in disguise, summoned by the Emporer?s personal summoner no less. That?d make him a ?ard nut to crack? Real ?ard.?
?I bet Dreego could ?ave him? said Grot, pointing to a particulary large Orc across the room.
?Last week ?e wrestled one of them Tiger cats to the ground with one arm behind ?is back. Glad ?e?s on our side!?
Scant nodded. Carefully, he removed a small tin from his breast pocket and poked his finger into a shallow layer of dust inside. After making sure no one was watching, he raised it to his mouth and licked the white residue off his extended digit and offered it to Grot.
Grot shook his head ?Got to watch what?s left of me teeth Scant. The surgeon?s suspicious I swears it. He watches me you know? ?e even watched me go to the can the other day. Truth!?
?The surgeon watches everyone go te? the can Grot. He?s one of them? You know??
Grot looked vacant ?Can?t say I do Scant.?
?Yeah you do? He doesn?t like women? Geddit??
?Don?t like women? What?s he do with his rod then eh? Stick it in a can of boot polish??
Scant ran his hand down his face in frustration. ?He likes men Grot? More than likes if you get me meaning.?
?He never??
Scant nodded vigorously ?Asked me if there was any blood in me pee once? Said it were to do with me health the dirty bugger!?
?He?s a wrong ?un for sure. You think you know someone? Is Peralious one of those? you know, as well??
?Peralious is a horse Grot!?
?Yeah, but he keeps sniffing me, the stableboy says he?s takin? a likin? to me.?
?The stableboy?s takin? a likin? to you??
?No Scant, he says the horse has. That?s why I think he might be one of? them.?
?It?s probably jus? the sugar on you Grot. Horse?s love the stuff. Sends ?em loopy though. That?s why it?s a flogging offense te? feed it to them.?
Grot?s face dropped ?It?s an offence??
?You ?aven?t? You bloody fool. Why?d you waste good sugar like that anyway. You on the fiddle??
?Nah, Captain Julianus was comin? and I ?ad me stash on me. ?ad te think quick.?
?You ain?t good at the thinking Grot, remember that. But I think we?ve solved the mystery of why Peralious likes you so much anyway.?
?That makes sense I ?spose.?
The waitress, a buxom but dishevelled beauty approached the table and smiled at the pair with synthetic sweetness. She removed two flagons from a tray and put them on the table without concern for care, splashing foam over the table and also on Grot. He didn?t seem to mind.
?These are the last two on your tab Scantalion, me hubby?s getting narked. Says you?ll bankrupt him he does. After counting it up the other night I?m beginning te? believe him too!? Said the waitress, sliding her free hand into Scant?s pocket at the same time.
?Yer a star Ange. Tell Patrick I?ll have his money for him the day after tomorrow.? Replied Scant with a smile. Ange frowned and pulled her hand out of his pocket.
?I won?t tell him that at all! Don?t think me stupid soldier. I know there?s a card game on tomorrow night. Dreego?ll take all yer money again and you?ll be in even more dept.? Ange shook her head and popped the cap of Scant?s sugar tin, taking a dip before placing it back in his pocket.
?I know you don?t fear Patrick, but he?s had men beaten for less of a tab than you?ve run up. Jus? cos yer a soldier don?t make you safe Scant. Maybe try and save some of your wages for a change.? With that, Ange pouted, turned on the spot and walked off to collect empties. Her pout didn?t last long as she applied her winning smile whenever she noticed any male attention.
?She wants me.? Said Scant with a grin.
?You say that ?bout all the ladies though Scant. Can?t always be right? Remember Lutenant Drogan?s daughter? ?e nearly ran you through when ?e found out yer intentions. She weren?t too happy either!?
Scant rubbed his chin ?Lets say I?m right most of the time then eh? And it were the class devide that made anything between me and Petula impossible? Society were against us.?
?Aye, society an? yer face!? came a booming voice from over Scant?s shoulder.
Scant turned his head to face the now laughing figure. Before him stood the Quarter Master, a hairy barrel of a man who had most likely never seen his feet.
?Hammond you ugly son of a whore, sit yerself down if you think the furnature can take it.?
?Don?t mind if I do ye little gobshite. I?ve got a message for the both of ye. Dunno what it?s for but my guess is that you?re both in trouble again.?
Scant sighed ?Let me guess, the Captain wants te? see us??
Hammond nodded ?Aye, that he does, but I took my time in finding ye, so it?ll be first thing tomorrow morn. Thought you?d prefer to see him with a hangover than when drunk.?
Scant groaned ?Aye, thanks Hammond. Let me get yerself a drink??
Hammond shook his head ?I?ll take you up on that some other time lad, the Captain?s got me sorting out the equipment room. It?s all bloody antiques you know? We haven?t had an armour or weapons shipment for over a year. Some of the new recruits are wearing armour that last saw use during the reign of the last Emporer.? The Quarter Master stood up with a groan, although scant was unsure whether it came from the big man or the chair.
?Be seeing you lads? Good luck!? he added the last part with a smile on his face.
?Troll bollocks!? exclaimed Scant.
?If this is anything te? do with you and Peralious I ain?t covering fer you Grot. The Captain said I?m for the whip if I get into any more trouble this month.?
?Bugger Scant... Bugger!? Grot started to panic, his face jumping from one one expression to another as the situation settled itself in his mind ?I never knew it were an offence to give sugar to a horse. They can?t tell it were me can they Scant? There ain?t no magic that can tell ?em that is there??
?Pull yerself together Grot?? Scant sighed and added ?Don?t worry, I?ll say you was with me at the time or something.?
Grot stopped panicking and took a big swig of ale ?Thanks Scant? I dunno what I?d do without ye.?
?You?d probably forget te? breath or something.? muttered Scant
?What were that Scant??
?Nothing Grot, nothing? Drink up, we?d better turn in early tonight. Don?t want te? nark the Captain any more than we can help.?
Hello again everybody. Sorry it's been such a god-awful time since my last post, but personal issues (and lack of internet connection until now) got in the way of things. I've just spent a few hours continuing the tale, hopefully injecting it with a little more structure.
D.Foxy, just read your comments and I agree. The next revision will see some improvent hopefully. Thanks for the advice.
Once again everything new is unedited... Once I start I just can't stop
I'm hoping to make these updates a weekly thing (depending on how long I have the internet this time) so keep watching this space.
[Edit] I've just noticed how hard it is to read. If you guys want, I'll change the structure next revision. Also, If anyone wants me to up the font size I'll get on it. Cheers
Legionnaire: Fist of the Empire
?Ere Grot? whispered a dirty Imperial soldier to his companion across the cluttered tavern table ?You ?erd ?bout this transfer we?re getting in? A right nutter they say? Full of the madness and as strong as an Orc! God?s knows why we need ?im. We do a bloody good job dun? we Grot. Eh??
The soldier who answered to the name ?Grot? nodded and smiled, bearing for all to see, a decrepit pit of blackened teeth that swayed hypnotically in their sockets.
?True Scant, True. I rec??
?Nah, can?t fer the life of me figure it out. Sure, crime?s worse ?ere den anywhere else in the Empire, but it?s bloody Elsweyr ain?t it! They can?t blame us fer that can they? Bloody burocak? beurocram? beurockr? Bloody politicians, that?s who I blame! Thinking they can fix fings by doing? other fings? Makes me mad Grot. That?s what it does.?
?Right you are Scant. Always??
?I mean, everywhere you look there?s flaming cats! ?ow you supposed to police cats eh? They jus? do what they want. That?s what cat?s do. Now, if this place were full o? dogs, that?d be a different story. Dogs are obedient you see. You can train a dog. Ain?t never seen a trained cat!?
?I ?ave Scant. Back home in Skingrad. Timmy ?e was called. ?e used to balance this ball on his nose when his owner blew a whistle? Bloody brilliant it was. I used to say to me ma ?look at that Cat ma? ain?t never seen a cat do that before.?. Bloody brilliant!?
?Really??
?Aye, true story. Shame though??
?Shame Grot??
?Aye, ?e was so clever that when that famine hit Colovia fifteen years back? You know, when there was that big freeze? ?is family chose to eat their son instead of their pet like everyone else was doin?. Weird bunch though? I mean, who trains a cat ?eh??
?Aye.? Agreed Scant before draining his mug of ale. ?Another two beers Ange.? He shouted.
?So who?s this new fella then? I ?ere ?e used te? be a member of the Dark Brotherhood, an? ?e?s killed a thousand men!
?A thousand??
?Well I dunno.? Replied Grot with a shrug ?Probably a lot anyhow!?
?Nah, I ?eard ?e?s a Daedra in disguise, summoned by the Emporer?s personal summoner no less. That?d make him a ?ard nut to crack? Real ?ard.?
?I bet Dreego could ?ave him? said Grot, pointing to a particulary large Orc across the room.
?Last week ?e wrestled one of them Tiger cats to the ground with one arm behind ?is back. Glad ?e?s on our side!?
Scant nodded. Carefully, he removed a small tin from his breast pocket and poked his finger into a shallow layer of dust inside. After making sure no one was watching, he raised it to his mouth and licked the white residue off his extended digit and offered it to Grot.
Grot shook his head ?Got to watch what?s left of me teeth Scant. The surgeon?s suspicious I swears it. He watches me you know? ?e even watched me go to the can the other day. Truth!?
?The surgeon watches everyone go te? the can Grot. He?s one of them? You know??
Grot looked vacant ?Can?t say I do Scant.?
?Yeah you do? He doesn?t like women? Geddit??
?Don?t like women? What?s he do with his rod then eh? Stick it in a can of boot polish??
Scant ran his hand down his face in frustration. ?He likes men Grot? More than likes if you get me meaning.?
?He never??
Scant nodded vigorously ?Asked me if there was any blood in me pee once? Said it were to do with me health the dirty bugger!?
?He?s a wrong ?un for sure. You think you know someone? Is Peralious one of those? you know, as well??
?Peralious is a horse Grot!?
?Yeah, but he keeps sniffing me, the stableboy says he?s takin? a likin? to me.?
?The stableboy?s takin? a likin? to you??
?No Scant, he says the horse has. That?s why I think he might be one of? them.?
?It?s probably jus? the sugar on you Grot. Horse?s love the stuff. Sends ?em loopy though. That?s why it?s a flogging offense te? feed it to them.?
Grot?s face dropped ?It?s an offence??
?You ?aven?t? You bloody fool. Why?d you waste good sugar like that anyway. You on the fiddle??
?Nah, Captain Julianus was comin? and I ?ad me stash on me. ?ad te think quick.?
?You ain?t good at the thinking Grot, remember that. But I think we?ve solved the mystery of why Peralious likes you so much anyway.?
?That makes sense I ?spose.?
The waitress, a buxom but dishevelled beauty approached the table and smiled at the pair with synthetic sweetness. She removed two flagons from a tray and dropped them on the table without concern for care, splashing foam over the table and also on Grot. He didn?t seem to mind.
?These are the last two on your tab Scantalion, me hubby?s getting narked. Says you?ll bankrupt him he does. After counting it up the other night I?m beginning te? believe him too!? Exclaimed the waitress in exasperatoin, sliding her free hand into Scant?s pocket at the same time.
?Yer a star Ange. Tell Patrick I?ll have his money for him the day after tomorrow.? Replied Scant with a smile. Ange frowned and pulled her hand out of his pocket.
?I won?t tell him that at all! Don?t think me stupid soldier. I know there?s a card game on tomorrow night. Dreego?ll take all yer money again and you?ll be in even more dept.? Ange shook her head and popped the cap of Scant?s sugar tin, taking a dip before placing it back in his pocket.
?I know you don?t fear Patrick, but he?s had men beaten for less of a tab than you?ve run up. Jus? cos yer a soldier don?t make you safe Scant. Maybe try and save some of your wages for a change.? With that, Ange pouted, turned on the spot and walked off to collect empties. Her pout didn?t last long as she applied her winning smile whenever she noticed any male attention.
?She wants me.? Said Scant with a grin.
?You say that ?bout all the ladies though Scant. Can?t always be right? Remember Lutenant Drogan?s daughter? ?e nearly ran you through when ?e found out yer intentions. She weren?t too happy either!?
Scant rubbed his chin ?Lets say I?m right most of the time then eh? And it were the class devide that made anything between me and Petula impossible? Society were against us.?
?Aye, society an? yer face!? came a booming voice from over Scant?s shoulder.
Scant turned his head to the now laughing figure. Before him stood the Quarter Master, a hairy barrel of a man who had most likely never seen his feet.
?Hammond you ugly son of a whore, sit yerself down if you think the furnature can take it.?
?Don?t mind if I do ye little gobshite. I?ve got a message for the both of ye. Dunno what it?s for but my guess is that you?re both in trouble again.?
Scant sighed ?Let me guess, the Captain wants te? see us??
Hammond nodded ?Aye, that he does, and no surprise, but I took my time in finding ye, so it?ll be first thing tomorrow morn. Thought you?d prefer to see him with a hangover than while drunk.?
Scant groaned ?Aye, thanks Hammond. Let me get yerself a drink??
Hammond shook his head ?I?ll take you up on that some other time lad, the Captain?s got me sorting out the equipment room. It?s all bloody antiques you know? We haven?t had an armour or weapons shipment for over a year. Some of the new recruits are wearing armour that last saw use during the reign of the last Emporer.? The Quarter Master stood up with a groan, although scant was unsure whether it came from the big man or the chair.
?Be seeing you lads? Good luck!? he added the last part with a smile on his face.
?Troll bollocks!? exclaimed Scant.
?If this is anything te? do with you and Peralious I ain?t covering fer you Grot. The Captain said I?m for the whip if I get into any more trouble this month.?
?Bugger Scant... Bugger!? Grot started to panic, his face jumping from one one expression to another as the situation settled itself in his mind ?I never knew it were an offence to give sugar to a horse. They can?t tell it were me can they Scant? There ain?t no magic that can tell ?em that is there??
?Pull yerself together Grot?? Scant sighed and added ?Don?t worry, I?ll say you was with me at the time or something.?
Grot stopped panicking and took a big swig of ale ?Thanks Scant? I dunno what I?d do without ye.?
?You?d probably forget te? breath or something.? muttered Scant
?What were that Scant??
?Nothing Grot, nothing? Drink up, we?d better turn in early tonight. Don?t want te? nark the Captain any more than we can help.?
The sun had gone away a few hours ago and the oppressive dessert heat had been replaced by an unbearable cold. Rhaldon shivered and attempted to wrap his meagre blanket even tighter around himself. The two men who guarded him had gone to trade for supplies with a caravan of local desert men? cats, and had left him to fend for himself. Rhaldon still couldn?t get his head around the fact he was in Elyswyr. Sure he?d seen Khajit, but not this many of them in one place. From his experience they owned shops that catered for those involved in less than legal pursuits or were heavily involved in such pursuits themselves. Here they were everything. The thing that overwhelmed him the most about the cat people was that there were so many types. Different breeds perhaps, he reflected, like housecats. Before this little adventure, his perceptions of Khajit were man-sized and shaped, albeit a furry men with tails. But now Rhaldon didn?t have any perceptions. They could be large or small, bipedal or four-legged. They could be as kin to tigers, or indistinguishable from mer. They were a paradox to Rhaldon. Were they a true people or an amalgamation of different cat-races? He pulled out of his ponderings in time to see the last vestiges of life within the fire roll over and die. A last breath of smoke escaped the fire?s sooty corpse and twisted into the air to disappear against the blackness. Rhaldon tightened his blanket once more. It had been more than six years since he had last visited High Rock, the place of his birth, but at no point since had he missed it as much as he did now. A thin chuckle escaped his trembling lips. It was the cold that reminded him of home. He had grown soft in Cyrodiil he figured. Once such a cold would not have bothered him, though the days heat had as much to do with his discomfort, and the constant unknowing only added to it. When would they get there, and where on Nirn would they be when they finally got to wherever ?there? was? That was the crux of it, not being in control. Rhaldon never had much in his youth. He came from a poor family in a poor community. His father was a cobbler, his mother? A saint. She was uneducated, unskilled and for most of his life the only person he had ever cared about. His father on the other hand brought food to the table, and that, as far as Rhaldon was concerned, was the only good aspect of him that ever existed. They were dead now. They had been dead for fifteen years. A plague, brought down from the mountains by goblins raped the town and left it barren. Only five people out of thirty survived. The time had always been a blur to him. He remembered staying by his mothers bedside for over a month but not much more. The monastic order of Mara that rescued the survivors had told them that they were lucky. Rhaldon had broken the priest?s nose. He was fifteen when his life started again. He was hired as a stableboy by a local man of some nobility. Not that he knew anything of horses. He had lived with the monks for two years, simply out of having no where else to go. They were a forgiving sort and held no grudge against the young Rhaldon for his assault on one of their members and immersed him in education, although curiously the priest he had hit was not among his tutors. He had a natural aptitude for words and numbers and proved an easy student. It was during these boring years surrounded by gullible old men that he discovered his greatest attribute. Deception. Rhaldon began to weave a tapestry of lies around himself forming the basis of his new life and transforming his old one. The priests would believe anything if you smiled sweetly and sugared your words, and a suprising amount of adults seemed to trust the young. What fools. He had been the son of a horse breeder and had been caring for the animals all his life Unfortunately his father had many sons, forcing Rhaldon to seek his own path in life. That was all he needed to say to get his first job? Rhaldon amended his thoughts, his second job. He had tried the same trick on a Blacksmith a few months before, saying he was a skilled apprentice. He lost count of the times he nearly died that day. Working on an estate in a private stable worked out much better. It turned out he was one of two stableboys and quickly learned enough from the other to get by. A fortunate series of events changed his life again during this time. The owner of the estate, one Lord Eron Fonning made Rhaldon the Fencing partner of his son Jens as they were roughly the same height. Over the next few months Rhaldon became adept with a blade, quickly matching Jens in skill. It was his eloquence and grasp of writing that got him noticed by Lord Fonning however, and the time it took for him to go from study partner of Jens to adopted son was very short. Of course, Manipulation was the cause of half of it. Lord Fonning was a bore and a bastard. Only by making his parents rich horse breaders did Rhaldon sow the seeds of affection in the awful man. If he thought him a pauper from birth Rhaldon would most likely never have set foot in his house. He and Jens were fast friends though, as it soon turned out young master Fonning thought as little of his father as Rhaldon did. This friendship complicated things for Rhaldon. His initial plan had been to stake claim over Jens inheritance. Rhaldon knew he could have done it. It would have required time and many deceptions big and small, but it was achievable. He still might have attempted it, despite his friendship with Jens, but unforeseen circumstances saved him from such a choice. Not only was Lord fonning a bore and a bastard, but a gambler, and a bad one at that. It all fell to pieces for him shortly after Rhaldon?s twenty first birthday. He remembered that day with a macabre clarity. He was sat on the bench by the lake watching two servants cut Lord Fonning down from the large oak that shaded the area. Jens stood behind him looking out over the water. Two things surprised him that day. Firstly, that the old fool had the courage to go ahead with it and secondly, that Jens was upset. Still, Raldon was gracious enough to appear grieved. It seemed the right thing to do. That was they last time he sat by that lake. At least the new owner had the good grace to give them a month to move out. During that time Jens worried constantly about what was going to become of them despite Rhaldon?s constant assurance he had enough money put aside to get them by for a time. Although he couldn?t bring himself to tell him that it was what he had stole from his late father over the last six years. The two lived above a tavern for a while. An arrangement that was not entirely unpleasant, for the alcohol and barmaids more than made up for a lack of any real furnishings. During this time Rhaldon formulated a plan. They were young handsome, and bore the name of a noble family. Now all he had to do was teach Jens how to lie. Before long they had cheated a fortune out of girls with rich fathers all they way from Wayrest to Daggerfall. The Fonning family name was tarnished beyond repair by that point, and like them, their last names became flexible. Still, a fortune didn?t last long and neither did their luck. Jens ended up hanging from a noose like his father, although not by his own hand. Rhaldon missed him still. Six years and many miles away the same fate had nearly befallen him. But now he was here, and after a lifetime of cons and scams, for the first time since the death of Jens, he wasn?t in control. He didn?t even know where he was! Rhaldon pounded his hand against the chilling sand in frustration. Weeks ago a man who said he was a member of an organisation called the Blades visited him in his cell in the imperial prison. He had festered there for a month awaiting the noose, trying to accept his inevitable death. He hadn?t. Rhaldon was stubborn above all else and wouldn?t let go. He came close though. His youthful sense of immortality died with his friend many years ago, but somehow even through the dark lonely nights in his cell he couldn?t bring himself to believe he was going to die. That?s not to say he wasn?t surprised when this ?Blade? offered him his life for a service. There was only one thing he could do. Lie. Still, he hadn?t counted on his personal guards, and they hindered his escape somewhat. Not as much as the desert did however. It stood in testimony to the desolation of the land that he didn?t need to be guarded or even in a cell to be a prisoner. Hopefully they would arrive at their destination soon, then Rhaldon could get some answers.
Captain Julianus loved his job. He had worked long and hard to forge this distant legion outpost into his own personal empire and had done a good job of it. For the most part. Being such a distant isolated fort the quality of men posted there could occaisionally be lacking in certain areas. Unfortunately these areas were usually brains and discipline. A good Captain would spread the less able men amongst the more veteran soldiers so they could learn by example. Julianus was not that sort of Captain. Anyone who didn?t live up to his exacting standards became a member of the ?General guard?. An untamed rabble of men who did the jobs not befitting the rest of his legion. To the Captains irritation, the General guard was the largest unit under his command. Captain Julianus reclined back into his chair and poured a glass of brandy to help him relax. He was in his office, his sanctum from the stupidity of his men. Trinkets and fancies from his travels with the legion adorned all four walls. A suit of engraved bark armor from Valenwood modelled by a wicker manikin stood beside the door, and above it the metal head of a Dwemer automaton from Hammerfell. On his desk were smaller pieces like a small red and black ash statue from Morrowind, and glowing Aelyid stone. No matter how much his men irritated him this room always calmed his anger. However, there was more to his current irritation than his men for once. He had received an urgent missive from Cyrodiil two nights ago and it?s contents angered him. The Blades, the personal guards and spies of the Emperor ordered him to assist a man who would be arriving here within the next few days. Julianus was to grant him with any men or epuipment he might require. It didn?t mention if the man was an agent or not, but the blades were ironically known for their secrecy. On top of that, it stated that further orders were to come. He didn?t like being told what to do. Normally his orders were vague or general. Patrol this area, guard that road. The kind of orders that no one really gives a damn about if they?re carried out or not. This was different, direct, precise. The thing that unnerved him though, was the large red URGENT written on the front of the envelope, with the seal of the blades next to it for good measure. Still he had a plan. Julianus always had a plan. He would give the man all the help he needed. He already had a list of men picked out for him who would be ?suitable? for his needs. The Captain took a sip of his brandy and smiled. This could all work out rather well he thought.
The Trio sat under a small cluster of trees near a small oasis, the air quivered around them distorting what little landscape there was. The mid-day sun erased all memory of the cold night before. The reality of sweat and sunburn made a cold breeze seem like an impossible fantasy. To the south lay the town of Tabcar, and above it Fort Hellkite, the band?s apparent destination. The knowledge that they would arrive before sunset brought a bit of fire back into Rhaldon?s soul.
?I swear, it must have been beginners luck.? Declared Rhaldon, wiping the sweat from his brow. ?You?re bound to win the third game? Third time lucky and all!? He adorned the last part with a sly wink aimed at the slower of the two. The guards, who both sat cross legged under the shade of a palm looked at each other and then to the pack of cards Rhaldon was inexpertly shuffling.
?We haven?t got any more coin.? Stated the taller, and as far as Rhaldon had summised, the cleverer of the two.
?Unless you wear jewellery in a strange place sir, pockets don?t normally jingle like yours do!?
The tall guard muttered something under his breath.
?His luck?s got to run out sooner or later though.? Said the shorter guard.
?Don?t trust him private! He used to be a Con man, he?ll bleed you dry.?
?Ah! But I was in the romance game. If I were to show a client a few tricks, I assure you they would have had nothing to do with cards. Never had the dexterity for it you see.? As if to emphisise his point Rhaldon fumbled the deck dropping a few cards in the sand. ?If I was trying to con you I would have let you win the first few games to build up your confidence, and only then would I have taken your money. For me to win the first two games doesn?t make any sense? Either that or I?m not a very good Con man. And if I wasn?t a very good Con man, why would I require two guards of your calibur to escort me? Rhaldon finished with the disarming smile he had used so many times before.
Uncertainty flashed across the faces of both guards, and at that instant, Rhaldon knew he had them.
?Just one game.? Said the taller guard, giving in.
?I?m sure you?ll both do much better? smiled Rhaldon, carefully adjusting the aces he had slipped up his sleeve.
?Captain, two soldiers to see you. Private Scantallion Dantrew, and??
?Yes, I know, the Rat and the Disease. Make them wait for a minute then send them in.? said the Captain in one long sigh before waving his hand dismissively to the porter. He left, closing the door behind him. Julianus could feel himself getting angrier by the second. He dreaded meeting with these two, and hated the fact that he allowed scum like that into his office at all. Today?s meeting would be different though. He would be rid of them for good and his Fort, his empire would only florish because of it. An unforgivingly hard rap on his door signalled the end of his musings, and he steeled himself in preparation for the waves of anger that were about to overwhelm him.
?Enter,? he said regretfully.
The door opened slowly and a repulsive lump of a man staggered through as if pushed, followed by one who looked deceptively normal. Julianus wasn?t easily deceived. The ugly one was meerly a rat. Vermin that while pesky caused no real harm. The other was a Disease. An insubordenant, disobedient cancer who infected anyone he was around. Private Scantallion?s flagrant and blatant disrespect for authority was not an influence Captain Julianus luceandros Pellominos the third would tolerate any longer in Fort Hellkite. The Captain counted to ten and took a long deep breath.
Scant cleared his throat ?Sir? You asked to see us.?
?Last night yes. No doubt you were out whoring or somesuch. Regardless, let me ask you both a question. How, by your own words, would your describe your performance of late in your given roles and duties?? The Captain leaned back in his chair and smiled awaiting a response.?
Scant?s face blanched ?Ah, you know... ?Normal, Sir.?.?
Grot grinned almost causing Julianus to gag ?Aye! Normal. ?in?t that right Scant.?
Scant kicked Grot?s foot ?Shuddup? he whispered.
?Normal?? inquired the Captain, all the while trying to think happy thoughts.
?Aye. We do some things well, and others? not so well. But not bad. Just that there?s room fer improvement.? Scant thought for a second ?As there is with everybody.?.
Grot stood there and nodded, grinning inanely. Julianus nodded as if interested and placed his hands together. ?Did either of you hear about the unfortunate accident in the parade ground yesterday afternoon.??
?Aye. Something about a bit of falling masonry clobbering Lutenant Drogan. Hear ?e?s in a bad way Sir.? Said Scant.
The Captain nodded ?What actually happened was a little more embarrassing than that unfortunately. Lutenant Drogan, the man in charge of our entire cavalry section fell off his horse. More accurately, it threw him off, but regardless it ended up with him falling.?
Grot?s face dropped, and his bottom lip began to quiver capturing the Captain?s attention.
?Private?? Inquired Julianus.
?E?s jus upset Sir. The Lutenant was a sort of role-model te? me friend here. He can?t stand the thought of him bed-bound.? Cut in Scant, sweat visible on his brow.
Captain Julianus fought the urge to jump over the desk and beat the fools in front of him. They were involved in Drogan?s injuries? He knew these two hand their fingers in many pies but he didn?t expect that even they could have had anything to do with this. It doesn?t matter he told himself. They will be gone soon and you?ll never need to see them again.
?How thoughtful. Anyway, I only mention the incident as Drogan was set to carry out an important mission for me.? The two looked confused that the Captain seemed to buy it and he continued with a smile ?Obviously he is in no state to perform this duty, so I am left with a problem. Unfortunately No one with a higher rank is suitable, instead I am in need of capable low-ranking soldiers who have what it takes to succeed in this quest. Obviously, the first two I thought about were you.? The Captain finished by outstretching his arms to signify he was talking about them. Grot still looked over his shoulder. Julianus felt sick to his stomach after saying it. It was all for the best he told himself. No punishment, no disciplining, they will just disappear into the desert hopefully never to return.
?Us sir?? inquired Scant, obviously surprised.
?Yes Private, you. I?m taking you off any duties currently assigned to you but this mission will not begin until your new superior arrives. That could be any time between now and the next few days so I suggest you pack and hand your lodgings over to one of the newer recruits.?
?We?re not coming back sir?? asked Scant, obviously puzzled.
Julianus bit his lip to stop himself saying ?I hope not?. ?Not for a while I expect. You will receive your full orders as soon as your new officer arrives. Now, run along and pack. He could arrive at any time.?
After the two had left, Julianus leaned back in his chair and smiled from ear to ear. It felt like two huge weights had been lifted off his shoulders.
Treebiter: Nice work there!
I think you need to use a blank line inbetween each dialogue line in the book, or it'll look a bit jumbled.
I also think the second paragraph of your second post - the one beginning with "The sun had..." - is way, way too long. In an in-game book that paragraph would take up at least half a dozen pages, I think. So I would humbly splitting it into smaller paragraphs. The same is true for your third paragraph in my humble opinion, but not to the same extent.
Oh, and could I ask for a preamble at the top? Either a [clammered] paragraph that gives the player a quick, unatmospheric explanation what the book is about, or a normal paragraph written atmoshperically that does the same thing. Here's two completely made-up examples of how I meant:
[This seems to be a book written by a Nord sailor, detailing his discoveries along the west coast of Tamriel]
or
Being a journal of Ogdus Half-heart, Sixth Circle Master Wizard of the Crows of Neverwater
Once raggidman greenlits it for spelling and grammar, could you mod the book in the form of a plugin and playtest it? If it pans out I'll be happy to merge it to the mod. Perhaps you'd like a
modder abbreviation too. Oh, and could you let me know where in the world the book would be likely to show up?
Thanks Razorwing. The whole things a bit of a mess at the moment. Due to me currently possessing only a dodgy japanese version of Word, I'm unable to spellcheck it, and after giving it a quick going over it's in dire need of it. I'll try and get on it straight away and will break it up at the same time. The way it's going though it looks like it's going to be much bigger than I had anticipated and might have to span quite a few books. Can anyone give me the total character allowance for the in-game books?
As for the preamble... I'll have to think about it. I'm not entirely sure if I want this to be a work of fiction or something that actually happened.
I wrote a little more before bed last night. Not much, and not finished, but while I'm here I'll post it anyway.
I promise the next post will be kinder on the eyes.
Thanks all.
[continued from end of last post]
Scant closed the door behind him and gave the porter a friendly nod. Uneducated as he was, he wasn?t a complete fool. If more than any thought, it was the hairs on the back of his neck that told him something was wrong. He looked at Grot as they walked. His face, a face Scant had seen every day for many years showed nothing but elation and pride. Scant?s face showed a different picture. He was worried. The Captain never kept his hatred for the pair secret but moments ago treated them with praise and a friendly tone. What?s more, Scant was certain that the Captain had realised Grot was involved in the incident involving Lutenant Drogan and his horse, Peralious. Scant didn?t know the Captain well, but had seen his anger enough times to recognise it in the man?s eyes. As they left the Captain?s foyer and stepped out onto the parade ground he considered asking Grot about his feeling. It was obvious from his expression though he didn?t share Scant?s worries and he decided to keep it to himself. If you needed someone to talk to, Grot was a god-send. He would sit there quietly while you bounced questions or views off him and by the end of it you never really cared if he was listening or not. Talking to Grot, in many ways was like talking to yourself. Across the parade ground Scant could make out Hammond surrounded by a group of fresh recruits handing out equipment. The heat-haze distorted the large mans silhouette reminding him of a large lump of Scrib jelly. Scant smiled and subconsciously played with the edges of his breastplate. He prided himself in owning the best suit of armor in the whole General Guard. His wasn?t one of Hammond?s hand-me-downs but a fine suit from the 2nd Legion where he and Grot began their lives as soldiers. Grot?s however wasn?t worthy of any pride. His original armor had perished years ago, and he kept Hammond busy as he constantly required replacements. Hammond often remarked that Grot was the only man ever to live who could rot steel. The two walked in silence to the barracks, Scant going over the situation in his head the whole time. The upside to it was they had no duties. He could understand Grot?s happy mood. Normally they would go out of their way to avoid work, but Scant felt unable to share in his friend?s merriment. Luckily he had something that could help. As they approached the barracks, instead of entering they slipped down a small gap between it and the armory, branching off to the left past the trunk of a tall palm into a small courtyard, sandwiched between the buildings and the outer wall. A few rickety chairs lined each wall, most of them taken.
??ello boys.? Came a familiar voice. It was Gravend, another private from the General Guard. ?Take a pew.? He offered jovially.
The courtyard was the General Guard?s main hideaway from the rest of the fort. As of yet, no one else knew about it, and the Guard were adamant that it should stay that way. Half a dozen other trusted soldiers, all known to Scant also sat in the shady hole, all indulging in their own personal vices. Scant sat by Gravend and pulled out his tin
?I think yer free te? start on the sugar again Grot.? Said Scant, offering the tin to his friend.
?Aye? Never thought of that.? Grinned Grot, his mood improving further.
Grot dipped his grubby index finger into the tin and rubbed the sparkling powder into his gums. The look of ecstasy that crossed Grot?s face that instant made Scant?s sugar yearning explode into an uncontrollable need for the stuff. He snatched the tin back from his friend and took a dip himself. Scant?s head burst into life, intensifying until he reached a crescendo of awareness. Then came the welcome throbbing waves of numbness, both mental and physical, calming him in a way nothing else ever could. Instantly he could feel his worries drift to the edge of his mind before falling off the edge into oblivion. He licked his sweet lips and leant back into his chair without a care in the world. ?A change of scenery would be good? came a little voice within him. ?Stop thinking the worst all the time? came another. ?We?re going on an important mission.? Came another voice, but this one was real. Scant opened his eyes. Had he drifted off? Grot had moved his chair to face a small crowd that had gathered around him and was telling all what had happened in the Captain?s office.
?This all true Scant or is Grot having another sugar dream?? asked Gravend obviously not believing his friend.
?Strangely my friend it is. Dun? quite believe it meself.? Said Scant
?You two? Either yer pulling our legs or the Captain?s flipped!? quipped Jepli, another member of the Guard.
?What can I say lads?? smiled Scant leaning forward in his chair ??e obviously recognises what a high standard of soldier we are.?
This brought a whoop of laughter from the crowd.
?Either that or ?e?s tryin? to get rid of you? cut in Gravend with a laugh.
That cut Scant?s laughter short.
?Hellkite eh? Foreboding name, but then again, look around.? Rhaldon was talking more to himself than anyone. The guards escorting him hadn?t said a word to him since he had emptied their purses during the fourth game of cards. He lost the third on purpose. He noticed that the tall guard?s pocket didn?t jingle any more.
?You two staying around for a while? I?d wager there?s plenty of gambling between the troops. A good chance to recoup your losses.? This brought simultaneous muttering from them.
They had left the desert wastes behind and now walked through the town of Tabcar that lay in the shadow of the fort. The heady fragrances of perfumes and spices wafted through the streets mingling with other less pleasant odours. The sickly smell reminded Rhaldon of rot and decay and he had moved the scarf he wore around his head to his mouth to fend it off.
?How do people live in this stench? I thought Khajiit had stronger noses than men. It must be unbearable.? This too brought no response.
It was market day, Khajiit, Men and a few Mer flocked around brightly decorated stalls, all promising something the others could not provide. If the Khajiit of Elsweyr were as skilled at barter as the ones he knew from other provinces then he couldn?t help feel sorry for those non-Khajiit doing their shopping. All the houses were unremarkable, squat yellow squares with tiny slits for windows. If there were any buildings of importance it would take more than eyesight to find them. The fort that occupied the bluff over the town also took on many of these characteristics. Obviously Limestone or Granite were hard to come by in these parts, the architect choosing a dark yellow sandstone instead. All around the high walls the yellow was streaked with vertical lines of dark red where the metal used in its construction had leached through the porous stone. In a way it looked like the entire fort had tiger stripes. Fitting, thought Rhaldon. As they drew closer to the fort Rhaldon spotted a stripy kitten sitting in one of the few windows large enough for it. A child or a pet he wondered?
