oooh, why do I feel like the plot is thickening?

Just a couple of nits:

"She remebered the first bandit to fall to her poisoned dagger."

remembered

and
"Now the scent hung in the air of her home with all it's dark promise."

its

I want more. Angel, that is, not nits.

bobg, this is magnificent! I am in awe at your ability to achieve perfect clarity through the subtle, indirect. Swims' departure explanation. The Black Horse Courier article presented at exactly the right time. The gradually dawning brilliance of how you portrayed Angel's initial response to the assassin that came to her. The very 'Angel' way in which she even exacted vengence.

Ah, I see Angel has settled on her unicorn, over the dragon her mentor got for her. Angel, I think I can understand - better to experience the smells and feels and life of the West Weald, with its golden waving grasses. But I digress; let me talk to your mentor again.

Bobg, your old stories were fine stories. The newer ones you graced us with this autumn were amazingly creative and took us places n'er before travelled. Your first couple posts recently have resembled your older solid stories -

Then this one. . .

Here, you have blended the best of all that is bobg. I see a fascinating story, yet I see that unique creativity that no one else can do. The creativity I learned to love in your recent short stories. The creativity and brilliance that cause several of us to confer upon you the title, master. All fused together brilliantly. Bravo, my friend!

Just don't stop writing. If necessary we will bribe you with fresh hot potato bread straight from S'jirra's oven.


Oh, take a peek at this: 'Carahils relief turned to ice' Carahil's?

That was impressive in it's bone-chilling horror. Not only the shock of Dulver's terrible death, but even moreso the gaze into the mind of the man who tortured and murdered him, and finally the ice cold of Angel as she made him kill himself by stopping his own heart. Fantastic! :celebration:

Winter Wolf;

As Dulver would have said, "Yes indeed, unfair." Time will tell about Duncan Darkwater.

mALX1;

This was very painful for me to write. It certainly was not done simply to add 'drammer'. I had originally intended a long period of fun interaction between Swims and Dulver with Dulver constantly losing things and Swims magically finding them.

hauteecole rider;

Thank you for the nits (no-it's; n'its; its-prime; aw nuts). Anyway, this time, I did a word search for it's and its. 'Remeber' was a last minute edit. Someday I will learn about those last minute edits. Please remeber I am dyslexic with not so great eyesight.

Acadian;

Thank you my friend. I have come to lean on your approval when my confidence weakens.

SubRosa;

You truly encapsulated my intent with the last installment.

***

I feel some explanation is in order and it is certainly owed to you who have encouraged me by your comments.

I have learned (by example) from my wife that it is always a good idea to look up words rather than to assume a meaning based on usage. From that practice I found myself googling(?) the word sociopath. Initial definitions generally confirmed my understanding but as I went from page to page, my blood began to run cold. This was the definition of a truly despicable and inhuman human. I knew I had to write about it.

http://www.mcafee.cc/Bin/sb.html

I believe it is possible for someone to become functionally sociopathic through traumatic experience. I further believe that, for such people, time can heal the hurt and restore a basically good person. We shall see.

***

Story continues
Angel knelt beside the small marble headstone and whispered a prayer to Dibella for the blessing of Sarrah, Mother, Pappa, and Dulver. The marker had become a symbol to her of all the precious ones she had lost. More so for the ones that would never have a marker of their own. Soon a picket fence would be erected by a local carpenter around the former garden making it a true little cemetery.

No further midnight visitors had come seeking audience. Angel had shuttled between her home and the Mages guild hall where she could rest secure in the knowledge that vulnerable sleep would not be interrupted.

Now rising from her memorial, Angel was unable to bear returning to the palpable emptiness of Benirus Manor. In her pocket were papers leaving the manor to Carahil if anything were to happen to her. She dropped off the papers and the manor key at the Mages Guild hall on her way out of town. Soon she was laying pressed to the back of the unicorn drawing warmth from its body on a chilly ride under storm swept skies.

Angel only pressed the unicorn when danger sprung at them from bandit camps or forest creatures wandering too close to the road. For the rest, she allowed the great beast to chose his pace. Passing through deep forest Angel saw only a sad dark place where once she had happily foraged on dirty knees for roots and mushrooms. Flax plants which once barred her passage until she harvested their seeds, passed by unnoticed. Over and over the road changed clothes as the regions of Cyrodiil slid past and were forgotten. Roads had no burden of memory.

Arriving at night, Angel stabled her mount and proceeded through the Cheydinhal main gate to the Mages guild. In the morning, she would announce her presence.

***

"Hi, my name's Angel, I'm looking for a man named Duncan Darkwater. do you know him? no? Well thank you."

"Hi, my name's Angel, I'm looking..... yes, that's me. I'm looking for a man named Duncan Darkwater. do you know him? no? Well thank you."

"Hi, remember me? No, nothing to sell today, I'm looking.............Well, thank you."

"Hi.....Hi,......Hi,....You do? Could you tell me where I might find him? I see. Well then please let him know I'm in town. I will be staying at the Cheydinhal Bridge Inn. Thank you."

***

The man who came to her room was not Duncan Darkwater but it didn't matter. It mattered even less that his intentions were hostile.

"Now repeat your instructions."

"I must bring Duncan to you. I can force him if he refuses. It's alright to tie him up and carry him if I need to. I must not kill him. After I bring him I must guard him so that he does not run away."

For the remainder of the night, Angel waited for her captured champion to return. At last, she had to admit that her control must have certainly worn off and the effort had failed. Weary after a missed night of sleep, Angel decided to take a quick round of the town hoping there was some sign of an aftermath from last nights activity. If not, she would return to the Mages guild. Deetsan had assured her that an alarm would be raised if any stranger attempted to access the upper floor of the guild. Angel was only really vulnerable when asleep.

As she crossed the town, Angel noticed a city guard standing watch outside a house. "What happened here?" she inquired of the guard.

"Nothing to see here citizen. Move along."

As Angel turned to leave, she tripped on the hem of her robe, her hand shooting out to the guard's chest to prevent falling.

"What happened here?" She asked again.

"A man was killed here last night."

"Was his name Duncan Darkwater?"

"No."

"Do you know Duncan Darkwater?"

"No."

"Well, thank you."

"You're welcome dear. Move along."

Once again Angel made to leave but a movement caught her eye. A figure, standing in the shadow of the house, emerged into the watery gray daylight. He came toward her in a purposeful way. Angel stopped to wait for him.

"Let's talk." he said. A head movement indicated the direction of the Inn Angel had come from.

"Duncan?"

"Yah." The man said, then turned and walked away.

At a table in a dark corner, Duncan finally spoke again. "Two of my family are dead because of you."

"And many more will die starting with you." Angel said in a flat voice. For a moment, a smirk appeared on the man's face as he took in the sight of the diminutive girl sitting across from him. Then his mind made the connection between his two top assassins' deaths and her threat. Even in the darkness of this little corner, Angel saw the man grow pale. She was convinced after meeting her first assassins that they were all basically cowards. "Unless you tell me what I want to know." Angel at last appended her demand.

"What do you want?" He croaked.

"I want to know who hired the Dark Brotherhood to take me."

"I can't tell you."

"Then you will die."

"No, no, I mean I don't know. It's not my fault. They don't tell me client names. How did you do it? I mean Trenor was going to kill me. I had to put him down to save myself."

"He would not have killed you. His orders were to bring you to me so I could kill you. You were saying about clients?"

"I knew it. Mind control huh? You must be, what, a master level illusionist?" A bitterness crept into Duncan's voice as he asked the question. After a long pause with no response, he continued. "Anyway, I just assign the jobs and take a small commission when it's done. You know, we could use someone like you. That little girl look could get you out of some tight spots. We are a fam...il...."

As Duncan spoke Angel stood up. With a thrust of her hand overhead she vanished. A moment later, powerful bolts of electricity coruscated around Duncan and coursed through his body. He was still twitching violently when she reappeared in her seat.

Angel waited until the shaking had subsided. "See." she said, "I am already learning to be like you. You will do what I say, when I say it or else you will die."

Sobbing quietly, his hand over his face to hide his shame, Duncan nodded agreement.

Woo Hoo! Angel ROCKS! Awesome Master Po!


My favorite line:

:read: Wow! This is way good. You continue to amaze.

Creative and concise descriptions as only you can do! {I think you want clothes though}

Brilliant! Again, you are the master of creatively efficient and the clearly unsaid.

My goodness. I'm getting concerned. Mentor can you speak to Angel? Can you help her so she doesn't become too much like those who would threaten her? My heart aches for her pain and I understand her response. I hope it does not jade her. I believe in her though, and I know her true nature will prevail. I know her body is not in jeopardy if she is awake, but her spirit and soul must be protected as well. It must be so hard to be alone and 12 in Cyrodiil. She still clearly sees the difference between herself and the assassins - I hope she continues to see the difference.

Thank you so much for another chapter!


Peek at these?
'?hoping there was some sign of aftermath from last nights {night's?} activity.'
'Then his mind made the connection between his two top assassins {assassins'?}deaths and her threat.'
'She was convince {convinced?} after meeting her first assassins?'

Thanks for the link to the sociopath article. It is already giving me ideas . . .

yes, it is possible to exhibit sociopathic behavior after extreme emotional/physical trauma, but I always understood true sociopath as being born, not created. I'm no psychologist either, but I've always had an extreme interest in psychology for much of my life, and I seem to recall that sociopathic traits often emerge in very early childhood. I'm wondering if PTSD is the explanation for the kind of sociopathic behavior you're talking about - I know that some soldiers have returned from combat just numb, and prisoners incarcerated in our prisons for many years also come out numb, unable to form normal relationships, because they had to look out for themselves constantly.

And it is chilling to see Angel utilizing some of the same tactics as her would-be assassins. This is a disturbing chapter - I understand her motivation, but I find her actions deeply upsetting. I think that is an indication of the quality of your writing - we get lulled into seeing Angel as child-like, innocent, in need of protection, then she goes and does something like this and it just - brrr! Would I be so disturbed by this if I didn't care so much about Angel?

Very good writing again. And hey, I know about the typos - I do them all the time! :facepalm:

A great read. I really loved the way you were about to stay in the moment with all the characters that were involved. It was perfect to have Duncan still trying to recruit Angel even when he realized that his life was on the line. And how delightful Angel was in this chapter :hugs: , the memory of her friend's death pushing her towards extremely decisive actions.
I sense that her and Buffy would indeed be dear friends.

Perhaps I should be threatened by the other side of her personality that is now emerging, but no, her actions are done with the full conviction of her heart..... I hope.

I thought he was talking about Alron Pondspan being the sociopath, not Angel. I think she is just defending herself, her friend who was murdered - and upset that she was so close to finding out about her parents when Dulver was murdered.

Angel is back again, and once more you keep the heat turned up! I must say, ever since you picked up writing again, your work has had an intensity that it previously lacked. It is very strong! I do not know what got into you, but keep it there, because it is inspiring your best writing so far!

This line jumped out at me:
Roads had no burden of memory.
I love this, as it subtly sets the mood and shows us Angel's thoughts.

Tripping on the hem of her robe in order to touch the guard was also brilliant. The way she did it so smoothly makes me think it is an old trick in Angel's arsenal.




That is basically what I learned in my psychology classes. To put it simply a sociopath is someone who feels no guilt, because they feel no connection to the rest of the world. They exist as a separate entity from everything and everyone around them. Essentially the reigning belief is that the sense of guilt - or of social responsibility if you want to call it that - has to be built into people in their formative years. If it is not built in by a certain time it never can be done later. It is like building a house. Once you finish the walls and floors, it is too late to go back and put in wiring and central air ducts.

mALX1;
I thought that part was pretty cool too. I really wanted Duncan to have this slow dawning that things weren't what they appeared to be and that he needed to be very, very scared.

Alron was meant to be a true sociopath. Angel is very bright and in a short time picked up on the way he is different. She assumes that other Dark Brotherhood members are similar. She assumes they recognize the behavior and will be scared if she acts that way too.

Acadian;
A chastised bobg fixes his flubs (again,)(hopefully.) I was so sure this one was going to pass without a flaw. Sigh.

The more I think about it, the more I am convinced it is the connectedness of people to others that prevents That sort of mental sickness. Although Angel has lost so many loved ones, she is still connected to them in her heart.

hauteecole rider;
It has been a difficult (read painful) section to write and yet there was never any choice. as the story progressed from previous chapters, it refused to go in any other direction.

My understanding of sociopaths matches your own. Somewhere in early infancy, bonding begins and goes on through the rest of our lives. Sociopaths appear to never have that experience.

Winter Wolf;
Another moment I was hoping someone would 'get' as you so perceptively have. I saw Duncan as trying to grasp at normalcy in a situation that was rapidly threatening to become lethal.


SubRosa;
Wow! wonderfully encouraging words from an author I profoundly admire.

I have know one person who's behavior was unmistakably that of a sociopath. I can only describe my reaction as loathing.

Story continues.

A very bad man took Angel's sweetroll. Running to where Mother sat, Angel climbed into her lap; tiny shoes leaving footprints on the elegant dress. Mother wrapped her arms around her baby girl and sang her special lullaby. A little off key at times, Mother's voice was all the sweeter and more human for it. Angel thought of her music lessons. The simple melody was in a minor key which Angel found odd for a song sung to children.

The music still echoed hauntingly in Angel's mind as she became aware of damp ears and damp eyes. Sunlight shone through a window of the Mages Guild second floor alerting her that a new day had arrived. She was also aware of an ache deep in her chest. This was not a pain that any healing spell could cure.

Angel's mind turned to the meeting she would attend shortly. Duncan had told his friends that she was his girlfriend. It gave him an excuse for the daily morning report she required of him. Each day he had grown more morose and more adamant that there was no way for him to learn the name of the Dark Brotherhood client she was seeking.

Master Pheng had once told Angel that there were moments in life that were nexus points. In those moments, a choice she made would decide the direction of her life and often effect the people around her as well. He had admonished her to watch for those moments and to always try to be informed as much as possible before making her choice. She knew that this morning there would be one of those moments.

***

In the now familiar dark corner of the Cheydinhal Bridge Inn, Angel greeted Duncan with a soft "Good morning." The surprise greeting caused him to look up from his downtrodden posture.

"Go ahead and kill me if you want. I can't do what you've asked. I will never get the client's name and that's that."

"What would you do if I released you from trying to get the name?" Angel asked.

"I've had enough of these people. After what you told me, I asked around. Alron wasn't the only one that likes to torture victims." Duncan sighed heavily and looked away as though seeing something far off. At last, he continued, "I heard Corrick has got his farm running again. I used to work for him. It was a nice life. I think he might need me now. He's getting old and a little frail from what I hear."

"I'm leaving Cheydinhal today." Angel said. "If I ever come back here, it will not be because of you unless you give me some new reason. The man that killed Dulver is dead. The people that ordered the job did not get what they wanted and I think you have changed since we first met." Angel held out her hand. "Goodbye and good luck. If you wish, you can write to me at Benirus Manor in Anvil."

***

Angel looked around joyously at the fields and distant forests ripe with alchemical and culinary treasures. She decided she was going to take time to stop and smell the flowers on her way home.

"Mentor, did I do the right thing?"

I could not find the right words. I sent her an image of arms wrapped around her as a lullaby asked "How long do you want to be loved? Is forever enough? Is forever enough?"

Yes, yes, and yes!

I had recognized Alron as a true sociopath. What I found disturbing was that Angel was showing sociopathic tendencies in dealing with the Dark Brotherhood, it showed a side of her that I understood, but did not expect of her (if that makes sense). Her childhood indicated to me that she is capable of forming bonds with others, that is not the mark of a true sociopath. If anything, I was worried for a while there that she was succumbing to what I call "the dark side" of PTSD (PSTD? PDTS? Agh!) - where she loses her empathy for others. This latest chapter reveals that her empathy is not lost, but much greater than I had previously suspected. It takes empathy to think like the enemy, even one as twisted as a sociopath.

It is still disturbing to see an intelligence so mature in one so misleadingly small/young. She would make an outstanding spymaster. Yet I felt like cheering when she released Duncan from his forced labor.

Great write, once again! I loved the little flashback scene in the beginning of the chapter - it shows the wonderful relationship she had with her mother, and shows us why the disappearance of her parents is so devastating for her.

When last we spoke, I bit my lip in concern and said to myself:

My beautiful Angel came through, all the stronger. She still needs reassurance though. We all do. Angel, isn't it wonderful to have a Mentor?


I am delighted at the prospect that poor old Corrick Northwode of Harm's Folly may gain a hired hand. Corrick could use the help, and hard work with the land can help heal Duncan's soul.

I'd best stop rambling and get concise here. BEAUTIFUL story. Angel's prodigy status extends to music I see. The foreshadow of a momentus decision - fulfilled. Mother. Sweet rolls. Master Pheng. Benirus Manor. Ahhh. . . as nice as Angel's appleberry juice in the morning at the Anvil Guild.

bobg, this was you at your best! Thank you!

The beginning and end brought tears, a very touching segment Master Po and dear Angel!

I like the sudden change of gears in this story. Almost like the old unconscious at work.
Or perhaps the guidance of a willing mentor....

Bravo.

I liked the beginning, with Angel's dream/memory of her mother singing her a lullaby. It has prompted me to think of trying to do something similar with my own fiction in order to flesh out my characters more.

I also liked Angel's recognition that she is approaching a pivotal moment in her life, where her actions will profoundly affect the course of her life. Often we only recognize these moments after they have happened. It takes a wisdom to see them coming, and to take the time to reflect on what course to take. This shows us quite a bit about our girl.

Angel did make quite a momentous choice in deciding not to carry through with her vengeance, which at that point would no longer be in the heat of passion, but rather cold-blooded murder. Bravo for her choosing to retain her humanity! :celebration: She is one smart cookie. It makes me think of a character in the TF who was in a similar situation and did not choose nearly so well as Angel did, and paid for it for the rest of his life.

hauteecole rider;
Yes, yes, and yes!
I am truly grateful for your approval and thought provoking comments. I'm not sure Angel has a 'dark' side. Finding it will take more finesse than I am currently able to muster. She does have a more rural outlook than modern girls. She is not shocked by slaughter and not afraid to get dirty. She likes cold water from a stream and mushrooms she picked the same day, served in a thick and rich brown gravy with a hearty roast and herbs fresh from her own garden.

Acadian;
Angel's thoughts are indeed inhabited mostly by familiar people and things. Her sense of connectedness brings all these things together to produce a result that is uniquely Angel.

mALX1;
We shared a common experience.

Winter Wolf;
Your unfailing kindness to Angel's story is beyond price.

SubRosa;
I will tell you a secret but don't tell anyone else. Sometimes my wife sings me a lullaby. She still gets calls from the boys once in a while. "Mom, I'm really down. Sing to me?"

***

an 'aside';
I have encountered enough comments at times about Angels exceptional abilities to make me want to respond with some clarification.

I don't see her mage abilities as anything extraordinary for her age. Just as some people will never in a lifetime be skilled singers, there are many examples of child prodigy singing sensations. I look on the spell casting process as akin to singing. The mind and body attune themselves and the music simply flows. All that's needed is to learn the words and the melody.

If she seems a little overconfident, I can assure you the original was anything but. In her first encounter, she was sure she would not live through it. When I started writing I chose to write about the character as she then currently was.

When I look back at my own life, I feel fairly sure that at 12, I was far more witty, intelligent, courageous (but not foolhardy) and adventuresome than now. The only thing I've gained over time is muscle and a fairly advanced education in electronics. Had there been magic I believe I would have been able to rise to my best level of skill by 12 just as I could sing then about as well as I sing today.
http://i462.photobucket.com/albums/qq344/bgoodwin91006/me-at-12.jpg

***

Story continues;
Snuggled against Carahil. Angel sat at the dining table in the fortress-like hall of the Anvil branch of the Mages Guild. it seemed at times that Angel and Carahil would eventually exhaust the subject of magic during their morning breakfasts together but the worst that happened was occasional lulls like the current one. Angel took a sip of apple-berry juice and with cheese scented fingers, drew a letter from her pocket. She began reading silently.

"A letter from your new beau?" Carahil asked.

"He's not my beau." Angel retorted with indignation. She had mentioned Duncan but omitted all of the details.

"Well really dear you should start to think about it. I remember Sarrah. When she went through that, uh, little....time." Carahil finished her thought lamely looking for a gentle way to describe Sarrah's total emotional breakdown.

"Sarrah?" Angel slid away from Carahil so as to look up into her face. "What do you mean?"

"Yes. I suppose you're old enough to know about it now. I think your sister would have wanted you to know too.

She told me it happened during a fight with an ogre. She had this thought; 'What if he was my lover instead of my enemy.' Her fantasies just sort of ran away with her. She killed the ogre but by then, I think, all of her feelings were going wild.

By the time she got back here from that trip she was a mess. She would just start crying for no reason. I saw her once or twice wandering around town. Her eyes looked like she was seeing something off in the distance but there was nothing there.

I've had time to think about it. I think with that one stray thought she let all of her repressed feeling come out in a flood and she just couldn't handle it. I think she really felt she had murdered her lover.

She did eventually get better but after that, she took very little interest in the guild. She had already started wearing armor and carrying a huge sword. Later on, she got a reputation for being a gate closer. She must have closed twenty of those Oblivion gates. Maybe more."

"I've heard it was thirty-eight." Angel interjected."Most of them have reopened."

"Yes. well." Carahil paused to get her thoughts back on track.

"I don't think Sarrah ever had a boyfriend. I think that was at the heart of the problem." Carahil momentarily had a faraway look as though seeing events from long ago. Visibly drawing herself up, she said, "So, tell me about your friend. Is he pretty?"

"Pretty?" Angel asked, looking bewildered.

"Sure what does he look like?" Carahil prompted.

"I guess his eyes are sort of pretty." Angel began, sounding a little unsure. Then with more enthusiasm she continued. "They are an amazing blue. And his hair kind of has curls. It's black. There's a little dimple in his chin but not like you see sometimes when a chin looks like a butt." Angel finished her thought as Carahil joined her in giggling over her verbal image.

"Strong?"

"I think so, Angel continued. But he used to be a farmer so that's not surprising. No, he's ok but he is no mage."

"Oh, so you are picky about profession. Was your father a mage?"

"Hmm. No, he was in shipping."

It took a moment for Carahil's thoughts to encompass the introduction of this new subject. "Shipping what?" She asked, her interest aroused.

"Well, have you ever seen ebony armor? Pappa probably brought it here from Morrowind. He was the one that had frost boxes installed on ships to bring beef from Daggerfall. It was his idea to use mages to keep food cold. His ships and caravans were the only ones that could do it." Angel said with pride.

"So what does he say or is that a secret." Carahil asked indicating the letter with a hand gesture.

"Well I don't know. Some of it is almost unreadable. Here. Can you make this out?"

Taking the letter, Carahil whistled at the unsightly scrawl. After silently reading for several minutes, Carahil said "Angel, there's a secret message coded in this letter. It says 'help, dark, b, r, o'. Does that mean Dark Brotherhood?"

***

As Angel leapt from the back of the dragon releasing it for action it surged forward grabbing a running figure in it's talons and ripping the man in half. Angel knelt beside a fallen figure. She cast a healing spell and then drug the body to the now idle, hovering dragon. Taking no thought for the pain it would cause she plucked an arrow from one of the dragon's hind legs.

"You'll have to help me." She said. "I'm not strong enough to lift you." Between pain induced grunts and growls Duncan stood and climbed onto the dragon's back. Angel mounted behind him and then with sure control she urged the dragon up into the cold night sky.

***

Pleasant sunlight shone through the large window in Angel's bedroom. She came through the door and glanced toward the bed and the figure lying there. "Were you sleeping?"

"No. I was just laying here thinking. In a way, you've saved my life twice now. I'm going to try getting out of bed today, It's not fair that you have to sleep at the Mages Guild because of me."

"Don't be silly. I love staying there. I'll tell you a secret but don't tell anyone else. Carahil sometimes sings to me before I go to sleep."

"It was surely Akatosh that intervened with you coming to the rescue like that. One of them got me with his dagger but I killed him. The other one dropped me with arrows. Another few seconds and I would have been dead. How did you find us in the dark? I was running blind."

"I have a sigil enchanted detect life ring." Angel answered. Scrounging in her backpack, she mumbled under her breath for a moment before hauling out several rings and small amulets. Sorting through them she picked an ordinary looking copper ring to hand to Duncan.

"Did you say sigil enchanted?" Duncan asked. "As in.. sigil stone?"

"As in sigil stone." Angel answered. "There's another one on the window sill. See it?"

For the first time, Duncan saw the source of the odd sound he had previously assumed came from outside. The sound emanated from a small dark-bronze ball which shimmered with energy.

"Where did you get that?"

"Where do you think?" Angel responded.

Oh no, Angel has been going into the Oblivion gates? ARGH! I hope she is set for essential! My mother played the piano to get us to go to sleep as children. We could make requests, my favorite was http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=meVPJjpq6kk&feature=player_embedded. Our neighbor was an opera singer, and when I spent the night with her daughter she would sing us to sleep - it is funny how these moments are remembered throughout your life!

Awesome story Master Po, just Awesome !!!


PS: How cute your pic is!

:read: It is so easy to curl up with this and read my way right into Angel's world. The only trouble is when the story comes to an end.

As a devout student of Angel and Sarrah, I learned some wonderful new things here. Thanks for sharing some of those details with me. It is wonderful to learn how close Angel really is to Carahil - I somehow find that comforting. I see of course her staple apple-berry juice is still served at the guild. Not only does Angel have the unicorn, but she does indeed still have that dragon that Mentor got for her.

Reading again of Sarrah's break down and her transformation to steel was bittersweet. Yes indeed. Thirty eight gates.

Much of what I'm learning about Angel and Sarrah's parents is new to me.

What a pleasure to read this was! :twirl:


Forgive me, my friend for pointing out a couple pesky items, perhaps missed in edit:
Carahil finish {ed?} her thought lamely looking for a gentle way to describe Sarrah's total emotional breakdown.
It took a moment for Carahils {Carahil's?} thoughts to encompass the introduction of this new subject.
It took a moment for Carahils {Carahil's?} thoughts to encompass the introduction of this new subject.

Oh, so enjoyable, as always.

So, is this relationship between Angel and Duncan going to go somewhere?

And since I started reading Angel's fan fic, I've imagined her as someone with a great deal of innate talent in the area of Magicka. Children learn things like riding, singing, playing musical instruments, language, etc. easier than advlts. They tend to be more attuned to their environments, their bodies, and their emotions than advlts are. So to me, Angel's skill with magic is not unusual.

I love the fact that Angel uses a dragon and unicorn for transport. That is so cool.
It does make me wonder about the parking arrangements at Benirus Manor. Lol.

The part about child prodigy is so true. Surprisingly, though, pursuits like chess, music, maths, singing etc have all had their fair share of amazing prodigies.
Yet how many 6 year olds have ever written a prize winning novel?

mALX1;
All of my game characters have been played on default difficulty and totally mortal. It's far more important to me that they be their own unique 'self' than to 'win' (whatever that means.)

Acadian;



That is a far more poetic way of saying it than I ever thought of. Thank you. Your insight into Sarrah sometimes exceeds my own and all I can do is bear witness to the truth of what you say,

hauteecole rider;



Hopefully.

Angel has been accused of 'uberness' in the past. Despite that, I kept her just as she alway has been. It's more important to me, who she is than what she is.

Winter Wolf;
The Unicorn and Dragon now seem as if they were always a part of Angel's story. I can't even picture her on a horse anymore.

You have to have found yourself drunk, and broke, and cold, at four o:clock in the morning on a lonely Tiajuana street corner to write about it.

Story continues;
"By the Nine," Angel exclaimed. With her arm about his waist, she was assisting a limping Duncan to walk. "I've never seen anyone take so long to heal." She only caught a glimpse of the grin that flashed across her patient's face but it was enough. "OH!" She said with feigned anger. The grin only confirmed what she already knew. He was faking.

Angel straightened and put her hands on her hips. In the next moment a now widely grinning Duncan bent down and then swept her up into his arms. After a brief sense of misgiving, Angel relaxed and lifted her arm to circle around his neck.

"Where would you like me to carry you today." Duncan boasted. "I'm faster than a Unicorn and I can jump higher than a Dragon can fly."

"And you're very strong." Angel added, now grinning herself. It was in that moment, in the warm swath of sunlight from her bedroom window and cradled in Duncan's arms that she felt a kind of bittersweet sensation; an unfulfillable desire; a longing for the moment to last forever.

Duncan lowered Angel's feet to the floor and held her hand to steady her as she stood up. "So. What would you like to do today?" He asked.

***

Golden wings thrusting downward sent a blast of cold air straight down Angel's back as the Dragon swept past. "HEY! WATCH WHERE YOU'RE GOING!" She shouted but Duncan was already well ahead and drawing away again. She could tell by the animated wave of his arm that he was indicating a direction. A moment later, he had turned the Dragon and headed that way. Angel and the Unicorn left the road, heading into a flowery field to follow.

Approaching a rise, Angel spotted the flames and in another moment, the fiery column of an Oblivion gate. She drew the Unicorn to a halt. They were not far from the city of Skingrad. She would go on to the Grateful Pass stables and secure the Unicorn first.

In another half hour, Angel, now on foot, was back at the hill with its view of the gate. Duncan was still circling above the site as an angry Daedroth lumbered after him, futilely throwing punches in the air. She could also make out a Xivilain and further on, a Spider Daedra skittering back and forth, excitedly guarding her territory. It was midday with a crisply cool temperature and clear skies. Perfect weather for a fight.

Trotting down the hill, Angel waited until she was sure the Xivilain had seen her, then she cast her Clannfear summon. Turning, she sent a bolt of lightning in the direction of the Spider Daedra.

It was too difficult to hit a rapidly moving target and still time her weakness spells to be effective when she followed them up with a destruction spell. The multi-spell technique was better suited to Daedroths and Storm Atronachs. For her fight with the spider lady she would need to simply blast away and that was going to take a huge charge of magicka.

Angel's hand slipped into her organizer. Settling her thumb into the specially designed depression brought her fingers over the matching rows of vials in the organizer. Without looking, Angel could rapidly select a potion even though she always checked the label before drinking.

Hearing footsteps behind her, Angel turned in time to see and duck the blow from the Xivilain. Again breaking into a trot, Angel recalled her Clannfear to the fight but to add to her difficulty, it immediately charged away toward the distant Daedroth. She would have to turn and face the Xivilain.

Equipping the Blade of Woe, Angel drew another vial from her organizer and poisoned the weapon. Turning again, she just had time to strike the towering figure before she was sent sprawling from a excruciating blow.

"Nines!" she blurted. She had forgotten to provide a magical shield and the strike had nearly immobilized her. Yet another potion was consumed and a spiral cloud of magic confirmed she was now protected from serious injury. It was one of Angel's most powerful potions with healing qualities as well as sending even more of the sensuous magicka coursing through her body.

Angel circled the Xivilain to place him in a direct line with the more distant Spider Daedra. She was rewarded for her maneuver by seeing a lightning blast from the daedric spider strike the Xivilain dead on. This was her kind of fight; tactics and magic. At such times, she became calm and focused. She would need to be precise in her spell casting. It was a level of self control her passionate sister had never mastered. It was only later in some quiet moment that Angel would allow the knowledge of the dangers to creep into her mind, leaving her shaking and pale.

The Xivilain went down; the poison finally reaching its inexorable conclusion. Angel turned to check on Duncan's progress. He was slashing at the Daedroth with powerful blows from an Elven mace. He had assured Angel that his years of chopping wood had made him quite skilled and accurate with the weapon. Except for a shield, he was not using armor but with a large cache of Angel's shield potions, he didn't need any.

As Angel watched she felt a stinging sensation on her ankle and numbness spread across her body. She counted the seconds in darkness until the paralysis wore off and she could push back up to her feet. Three seconds.

A miniature version of the Spider Daedra was now dodging and weaving around her, rushing in to strike a limp-wristed blow. Once more, Angel called her Clannfear to her. The feisty and aggressive champion did the right thing this time and rushed to the parent Spider Daedra. Angel's potion had already removed all trace of pain. She watched the smaller spider's combative antics with bemused detachment as her Clannfear finished off it's larger parent.

Looking around, Angel spotted Duncan, his arms raised over his head in triumph beside the Daedroth's fallen body.

At last running to where Angel waited, Duncan shouted, "That was easy! I could do this all day."

"Well, you will have to if you still want that sigil stone." Angel answered.

"Really?" Duncan said with a sudden drop in enthusiasm. "How many are there?"

Heart pounding! An almost pure magic fight from our little spell casting alchemist. Great fun to read. Got to keep those shield potions active Angel.


Wow! Tactics, insight, philosophy and even a mention of my girl Sarrah!


Uh oh!

bobg, this was wonderful! Thank you.


Just a couple tiny things to check-
The Xivilain went down; the poison finally reaching it's {its} inexorable conclusion.
He has {had?} assured Angel that his years of chopping wood had made him quite skilled and accurate with the weapon.

Finally another chapter in the Angel saga! Yay!

I saw a couple of it's where there should be its.

And is Xivilai plural or singular? I've always seen these guys labeled as 'Xivilai', and always assumed it was singular. If it's plural, then I can accept your spelling of Xivilain as singular. Just something Im wondering about.

But a great chapter! Oh, that Duncan is a mischievous stinker! And the description of the spider mini-me as being limp-wristed cracked me up! :rofl:

Wonderful description of the battle outside the Gate. I really enjoyed seeing how magic can be used in this kind of situation. Clannfears can be so stupid sometimes, right?

Awesome !!! I love this line:

"Really?" Duncan said with a sudden drop in enthusiasm. "How many are there?"


ROFL !! I like the interplay between Duncan and Angel, you do friendships so well in your writing !!!

PS, I have the flu, so my comments may suffer)