This one stood out to me. Made my eyes burn:


Gritty.... yup!

Nicely done once more. Your writing becomes steadily better with every installment. It also helps that it is scenes like that which I prefer, rather than action, because these are the ones where we see the most character development.

I liked the fact that Julian stops to think that wearing plate armor would make things like sneaking around impossible. It is little touches of plausibility like that which make a story believable.

This sentence really jumps out at me:
Fleeing those memories, I stepped out into bright sunlight.
It serves not only to describe what Julian is doing physically, but more importantly, metaphorically as well. I am envious!
The paragraph before it was also a beautiful display of bleakness in all of its dark glory. Making for the perfect literary one-two punch (or shield bash and gut-stab).

Polenta! ick! I think people will go to the TF for their meals if you keep that up!

Very, very well done again!

Here you made excellent choices in what to portray and what to leave to your readers. This story really 'felt' right.

I quite liked how you managed Julian and her freshly repaired and conditioned armor.

Portraying Matius through his actions more than his words was a brilliant approach and superbly done. You showed well the weighty mantle of leadership and responsibility upon his shoulders.

I must agree with the significance of the passages quoted by Remko and SubRosa above. Julian showed the perception of the old soldier as she viewed the battlefield of young ones in her flashback.

Julian's decision to help free the city near the end of the story is exactly the decision I would expect from the wonderful character you have brought to life for us.

My favorite moments have already been noted- folk around here have discerning eyes. I keep wondering how you will top your previous posts, and you keep finding a way to do so. Julian's introspection is perfectly woven into the conversation with Savlian, and the "domestic" touches of camp life ring true. Wonderful.

First of all, I can't see the word 'polenta' without thinking 'placenta', so it took me a few moments to get that straight in my mind (the image, however, remains). :yuck:

I agree with treydog in that you continue to top your previous posts. I thought that the interaction between Matius and the children was one of those scenes that could have teetered into the abyss of sentimentality, but your even-handed treatment of it defined Matius' character in a way that makes him both real, and human.

@mALX1: I have always considered Matius to be the real hero of Kvatch. I'm glad you liked this little interlude.

@RemkoNL: Gritty. That's Julian, all right.

@SubRosa: No one ever said combat rations were haute cuisine! Actually, I felt that edible choices would be limited so soon after a major disaster like this. Polenta is filling, though quite bland if you don't season it. My polenta tastes much better than this, I promise!

@Acadian: Thanks for picking up on the things I wanted to bring across in that chapter.

@treydog: I just keep getting better and better, huh? Well, I just hope that I can continue to get better!

@Destri: Placenta? Maybe you just need new glasses? Matius is not the touchy-feely type, he's a soldier first and foremost, and his mind is already on the next battle. But that does not mean he isn't aware of what those orphans are going through. Yes, I felt that was just the right amount of kindness from a brusque warrior that might come off as scary to the kids otherwise.

Now, Julian finally gets her first glimpse of the Emperor's son, but she has to fight to get there first.

*******

Chapter 4.5 Securing the Chapel

My sword repaired, my shield functional, and my belt pouch restocked with Sigrid's healing potions, I limped up the steep road yet again. Vonius paced at my side, silent. He's thinking about the battle ahead. He had thanked me for finding Goneld, even though I could not rescue him after all. Behind us, a couple more young guardsmen, recovered from their wounds two nights ago, trailed along.

Matius turned from the barricades as we approached. Recognizing Jesan Rilian and Merandil, I returned their nods. Then all of us were gathering around Matius at his signal. "All right, listen up!" he addressed all of us, raising his voice to be heard over the wind whipping the mesa. "This is Julian from Anvil," he pointed at me. "She risked much to close that Oblivion Gate. Thanks to her, now we can take Kvatch back." He looked from one soldier to another, assessing each man's courage and determination. "There are daedra swarming in there, and we've got to clear them out."

Now he knelt in the mud, sketching out a rough circle. He's mapping out the town for my benefit, I realized. "This is the chapel," he marked it off within the circle, just north of the gates. "That's our first goal. I believe there are some civilians and more of the Guard holed up in there. Once we get the gate plaza cleared, they can leave safely and head down to the encampment."

Listening to Matius, I caught myself nodding. That's what I would do. He glanced at me thoughtfully. Returning his gaze, I waited for him to continue. He made a circle within the northwest arc of the larger oval representing the city walls. "This is the castle. Once we secure the chapel, we can run over here and retake the castle. The Count and some of the Castle Guard are still in there." Again, he looked at each of us, making sure we understood. He held my gaze longest. "With both the chapel and the castle in our hands, we'll be able to mop up the rest of the daedra." He rested his right forearm on his knee. "Any questions?"

"Julian," Vonius turned to me. "We know scamps run out of magicka and switch to melee attacks. But are there other kinds of daedra we need to know about?"

"You haven't encountered any other than scamps?" I asked, looking around the huddle. Everyone shook their heads. "There's a couple of other ones," I said, thinking back to my time in the Oblivion Gate. "Both dremora, you've heard of those, right?" This time I received nods. "The churls are really big, and heavily armored. They carry maces. The only way I've been able to bring them down is to get my weapon, sword or arrow," I glanced at Merandil, who nodded his comprehension, "between the pieces of their plate armor." Shaking my head against the remembered bruises and broken ribs, I looked at each soldier. "Much easier said than done. Try to cripple them first - hamstring them from behind."

Rocking back on my heels, I thought for another moment. "There's another kind of dremora - a mage. He won't be wearing armor, but I think he's worse than the big churls."

"Mages are squishy," one of the guardsmen commented. "What's so bad about them?"

"Summons," I replied. "Summons, and drain health spells. Shock spells, and burden." Shaking my head. "The summons are the worst. If you see a lot of scamps coming from the same place, chances are there's a mage hiding back there, calling them as fast as you can kill them." Looking at Matius, then at each man in turn, I continued, "If you see a mage, ignore the little guys. Go for him first. Otherwise he'll wear you down."

Matius looked around the huddle again. "Any other questions?" Silence. "All right!" he rose to his feet, drawing his sword and shaking his shield into his hand. "Let's go!" Running for the gates, he yelled back, "For Kvatch!"

"For Kvatch!" the others shouted, hard on his heels. I brought up the rear, my bum knee holding me back. For once, I didn't mind. These guys are younger, stronger than me. Let them be the heroes.

We filtered through the shattered gates, squeezing between the broken panels. Following Merandil, I paused next to him to take in the carnage within. A large chapel stood at the far side of the plaza, its bell steeple laying in the street leading back into the city. Two large buildings, their wooden upper floors collapsed, lined the west side of the plaza. The east side was an impassable mass of burning and charred rubble. Smoke drifted heavily across the scene, making it hard to see clearly.

At my side, Merandil's bow began twanging rapidly. Looking down the wide steps to the plaza, I saw several scamps engaging the guardsmen. Vonius and Matius ran toward the chapel, crossing half the plaza before they were swarmed. The two young guardsmen who had joined us were ducking fireballs and trying to get near their assailants without much luck. To the left, Rilian was on his own, trying to reach the large buildings on the west side.

Past him, I could see movement on the second floor of one of the ruined structures. Scamps were appearing out of the same place. Moving sideways to stay out of Merandil's field of fire, I hopped down the stairs and hobbled towards Rilian. Three scamps were converging on him, while two more hung back, firing flares at him.

My sword moving through the figures of the Sunbird Dance, I reached the young Imperial's side. Two of the scamps lay twitching on the cobblestones, but we had no time to congratulate each other, for more were coming.

"In the Fighters Guild," Rilian panted, stabbing his sword towards one of the large buildings. "I thought I saw a dremora mage in there."

Moving away from him to take down another of the annoying creatures, I limped back to him. "There is a mage in there. Can you cover me?"

"Yes, I've got your back!" he shouted, falling behind me. "Let's go!"

Hobbling for the building, I stepped onto a beam, one end on the ground, the other still attached to the second floor. Rilian stayed close to me, his light iron shield easily blocking the fire spells from the scamps. Moving up the makeshift ramp, I hopped onto the floorboards above and turned to see a tall dremora mage, as we had anticipated. He stood at the far end of the building, his hand raised in a summons.

Ignoring the sulfurous swirl, I headed for the mage as swiftly as I could. He unlooped his mace and used it to block my sword. As he deflected my blade to the side, he swung his left hand against my cuirass. A bolt of energy slammed into me, more powerful than any punch, and flung me onto my back. My nerves tingling and my muscles numb, I looked up to see the - goblin shaman raise her totem staff, no - dremora mage raise his mace for the death blow.

A steel blade flashed brightly over me, stabbing the mage in the abdomen before he could bring the mace down. I rolled away, catching a glimpse of the dremora's left hand glowing white with another spell.

"Don't let him touch you!" I shouted at Rilian, but he was already pulling back, out of reach of the wounded mage. Turning so his shield covered his body, the young Imperial sidestepped the flung spell and leaped to close with the spellcaster. Another flash of the steel blade, and the mage crumpled to the floor.

Out in the plaza, about half of the scamps melted into sulfur wisps. Rilian reached a hand down to me. Grasping his wrist, I scrambled to my feet, and we returned to the ground looking for more enemies. The remaining scamps fell quickly before the swordsmen and Merandil's accurate archery.

At the foot of the chapel steps, Matius scanned the plaza. He saluted me with his sword before sheathing it. The other guardsmen joined him. As Rilian and I walked across the square, the young guardsman nearly sent me flying with a hearty clap on my shoulder.

"Good fighting, friend," he commented, still a little out of breath. He looked tired, and there was blood on the side of his neck, but his hazel eyes smiled at me. "Let's go see what Matius has to say."

"Good work, everyone," Matius greeted us, smiling grimly through a bloodied visage. "Let's go in the chapel and see what we find."

Following the other guardsmen within the chapel, I watched Matius pause, taking a look around. A Redguard woman wearing the Kvatch Wolf came up to him.

"Thank Akatosh you've arrived!" she exclaimed, her voice rough with tension. "We weren't sure how much longer we could hold out, sir."

"Tierra, what's the status?" Matius got to the point, like the brusque soldier he was.

Tierra straightened up. "Sir, there's two of us, Berich Inian and I, and four civilians here."

Matius's face fell. "Everyone else is dead?" he sounded discouraged.

"Sir," Tierra responded, "we've been cut off from the castle. I have no idea how many survivors remain there."

"Very well," Matius sighed. "What's done is done. Inian, stand watch here. Tierra, take the civilians down to the camp, make sure they're safe."

"But sir, I want to fight!" Tierra burst out. Glancing at her, I was reminded of myself when I was her age, looking for blood and glory. Matius cut her off with a sharp gesture.

"You'll get the chance soon enough," he stated flatly. "It's more important to get these civilians out of here. Kvatch isn't yet safe for them. Get them to the camp, then return as quickly as possible. I need your blade here, and soon."

I looked at the four refugees. They looked frightened, exhausted, and dirty. Is one of them Martin? Rilian leaned to me to whisper in my ear, "That brown-haired Imperial, in the blue robes, that's Martin the priest."

Spotting him as Tierra gathered the refugees to her, I studied him thoughtfully. Before I could call his name, they filed out of the chapel, the priest supporting a limping Breton man..

Still feeling twitchy after that shock spell, I hobbled down to the altar at the head of the nave. Placing my sword hand on the stone pedestal, I breathed deeply as the healing energy swirled around me. Matius joined me, taking some of the healing for himself. Feeling more like myself, I waited for him to step back.

"Sir, do you still need me?" I asked him. His eyes grim, Matius wiped the blood off of his face.

"I can still use you," he responded quietly. "There is still the castle to secure. We've got to recover the Count. Are you able to continue on?"

"Yes, sir, and I'm ready whenever you are." I matched his tone.

"You are truly a friend, Julian," he said, relief in his voice. "Not many would walk in off the road and help strangers."

"If strangers don't help each other," I countered softly, "the world would be a cruel place, indeed." He nodded agreement.

"Well, then," Matius cast an assessing glance at the other guardsmen. "Inian, when Tierra comes back, both of you join us at the castle." He strode for the northern doors. "The rest of you, follow me!"

EW !!! I won't even begin to tell you placenta stories I have heard - GAAAAAAACK !!!! I personally was reminded of the purple gobs we used to get as children that the cafeterial lady said was oatmeal. To this day the color purple gives me the willies.


@ Hauteecole Rider - that is one place I think the game messed up, there is no debriefing after the gate where you can tell them what they are facing; so you run into Kvatch with a bunch of guys screaming, "For Kvatch!" who have no idea what they will be facing. I love that you added that in there !!!

I agree with mALX, the discussion of the battleplan was a neat touch!

Nicely done once more. The battle for Kvatch was always my favorite part of the MQ, and your next post will probably be where my high point of that is. Although I am not sure if you will include it, with the way you are moving the story. We will see...

This is so spoken like an old soldier:
These guys are younger, stronger than me. Let them be the heroes.
It is little touches like this, done with such a light hand, that really make the story immersive.


But this however was absolutely stunning:
- goblin shaman raise her totem staff, no -
I do not know what to say, except I applaud you! :celebration:


nits:

The Count and some of the Castle Guard is still in there.
I believe you want "are" there, as the subject is plural (count and castle guard) rather than singular (such as "garrison" or "defenders" would be).

My sword moving through the figures of the the Sunbird Dance,
I think that Dremora conjurer summoned an extra "the" here.

I liked this. In fact I very much liked EVERYthing about it. What a neat portrayal of of these events you provided!

As others have mentioned, the battleplan was a realistic and neat touch.

I liked how you incorporated the Dremora mage and how much trouble they can be.

I think your dialogue throughout was very realisitc.

Yep, just a great story! :celebration:

It appears I fell behind. The good news is, I got to read two new chapters. I found 4.4 rich with the kind of descriptive narrative that immerses me in each moment of time.

I was a little uncomfortable with Savlian's plan since, presumably, he hadn't been inside the city walls yet to reconnoiter. It sort of started to have that feeling of 'I've already been through this and I know what's going to happen next." Something more realistic would have been for him to set 'recon' as the first objective but to warn everyone to be prepared for all-out effort and even have them primed for the possibility of beating a hasty retreat.

That said, it was still a terrific re-enactment of the first phase of the battle of Kvatch.

I am struck by how often Julian seems to shift between competence and fragility. I attribute some of that to her wounds, but you need to be careful not to make her too vulnerable. It seemed unlikely to me that a woman capable of single-handedly closing an Oblivion Gate would be felled by the first mage she encounters inside the city.

That said your presentation of this portion of the main quest was excellent. Like mALX I enjoyed Julian's briefing of the guards and I thought Savlian's battle plan was sound as far as it went. Your description of the battle itself was in keeping with the high standard that you continue to maintain. The assault on the castle promises to be very interesting!

Your character always seems to make me smile. The contrast she presents is delightful.
There is nothing clone-like about our Julian.

The only disappointment for me in this chapter is that she did not ride Paint into the combat, swinging her sword from the horseback and cleaving bodies left and right.
You could have ridden the horse straight up the steps and into the chapel. That would have been so cool!!

Woo Hoo! Tactics, veteran cleverness, and the first (brief) appearance of Martin. Savlian's plan made sense to me- it is based on what he had last seen before being driven out of the city. Thus the (yet to be revealed) situation at the castle.

I also liked your departure from the game notion that Martin will suddenly abandon his pastoral duties to the traumatized and injured citizens so he can go bash heads. Although it is rather nice to have an "unkillable" companion at that point in the game, your choice is much more realistic.

@mALX1: Well, it always seemed weird to me that Matius never told us what to do before leading the counterassault on the daedra in Kvatch. I put the huddle in there because it made more sense with Matius my character. I'm glad you appreciated it!

@RemkoNL: Thanks!

@SubRosa: I was hoping that people would catch that reference to the Goblin flashback way back in chapter 1.2. I'm glad you did, and I'm glad you caught a couple of nits. Fixed, and fixed. That episode with the Goblins is much more important to Julian than we've seen so far, and its importance will become clear later in the story.

I hope I've done the next part of the MQ justice.

@Acadian: Thanks for the vote of approval on this. It's the military stuff like this that I feel like I'm going out on a limb writing. And I mean waaaay out on a limb!

@bobg: Your insightful criticism is valuable. Of course, I forgot the first rule of war: Know your ground! :facepalm: I suppose Matius would have sent someone to recon the place first! Thanks for catching it. I will go back and fix it, once I figure out how to include it. I've been trying to keep the word count on each post at about 1500, and this one is pretty close to 2K. It's tough sometimes to balance the story with the limits of the forum.

@Destri: At this stage, Julian is still fighting the toll years of addiction and unhealing wounds have taken on her body and skills. In the Deadlands inside that first Oblivion Gate, she would push herself, then pause and take a hit of healing magic, healing potion, bloodwell juice, even a couple of pieces of daedra heart. That's the only way she survived. As for mages, they're squishy, yes, but the problem for a melee fighter like Julian is that she's got to get near them first! At least in the early levels, I've always found spellcasters hard to deal with, unless I snipe them from a distance. Don't worry, those wounds will heal, eventually, and her skills will come back, eventually.

@Winter Wolf: For someone who always ran at the smell of horses, you've turned into quite a fan of Paint! Julian is an infantryman (aka ground-pounder), and knows that if she were to try and fight from horseback, she is quite likely to bury her sword into her horse's neck! Also, Paint is a sedate prior's horse, not a high-spirited charger trained to combat. Mounted combat (and maybe not quite in the way you expect!) will come much, much later, when Julian is a much better rider and has had some cavalry training under her belt.

@treydog: Now why would Julian risk Martin's life by taking him into dangerous situations? He may be unkillable in the game, but not in Julian's view! He is a priest, for pete's sake! I find it hard to believe that soldiers like Julian, knowing what she knows about Martin, would allow the last remaining heir take on such risky endeavors as dungeon diving, battling bandits, and whupping highwaymen's arses. Nah, she'd rather stick him somewhere safe and take on the world by herself. Don't worry, that will become a bone of contention between them later on!

On to breaking the siege of Kvatch:

***********
Chapter 4.6 Lifting the Siege

On the other side of the chapel, the battle was more evenly matched, with four scamps between us and the tall gates that led to the moat bridge and the castle beyond. Following the other guardsmen, I didn't have to do much but follow them past a large statue towards the castle moat.

Matius reached the gate, and tried it before turning away with a curse. "Locked! Of course, they would have locked it from the inside." He turned to me, but whatever he was about to say was interrupted by a barrage of arrows from the castle paraqets across the moat. Looking up, I spotted the distinctive armor of dremora churls appearing and disappearing.

Seeking cover in the shelter of the gate towers, Matius swore angrily. If there are dremora archers in the castle, then it may have fallen. Things are not looking good for the Count. "Julian," he called me over. "Listen, go find Inian. He has the key to the north guardhouse. That will get you inside the walls and let you unlock the gate from the inside. Hurry!"

"Yes, sir," I responded and hobbled back to the chapel as quickly as I could. Within, three Legion soldiers were speaking with Inian. On my entrance, he glanced at me, and said something to the soldiers. The Legion pilus, his rank indicated by the white scarf tied on his right arm, strode up to me.

"We saw the smoke and flames from the Gold Road, ma'am, and came up here to investigate. What can we do to help?"

"Yes!" I exclaimed, feeling relief at their offer. So this is how Matius felt when I agreed to help him. "Let me talk to Inian first, then I'll fill you in." The pilus nodded at me. Limping to Inian, I caught his brown gaze. "I'm Julian, from Anvil," I offered. "Do you have the key to the north guardhouse?"

"Yes, I do," he frowned at me. "Why?"

"Matius needs the bridge gate unlocked," I answered. Inian's face brightened in comprehension.

"Of course! Listen, the only way to the north guardhouse is through the chapel undercroft. If you'll follow me, I'll get you there."

I nodded at the soldiers to follow us to the stairway leading down to the chapel quarters. "We need to unlock the bridge gate from the inside," I tossed over my shoulder. "Inian will get us to the north guardhouse, he has the key for it."

"Understood," the pilus responded. "We've got your backs."

Down in the crypt, we were swarmed by scamps. Fortunately, the columns gave us ample cover from their fireballs, and the heavily armored Legion soldiers dispatched the daedra easily. Inian led us to an exit door. Pausing with his hand on the handle, he looked at me.

"Listen, there are likely more daedra out there," he said. "If I don't make it, take the key and get to the north guardhouse. We must not fail Matius and the Count."

"You'll make it," I said firmly. Think positive. Inian seemed to take greater courage from my tone and opened the door.

Before we had moved six meters from the chapel undercroft, we encountered six more scamps among the burning ruins. The five of us spread out and took on the daedra as they came at us. While the others fended off the flares easily with their metal shields, I started to worry about the integrity of my own leather buckler.

Inian led us into narrow, twisting streets, through a ruined arena, and onwards toward the tower set into the city wall beyond. Fifteen minutes of heavy fighting took their toll before we reached our goal. Inian was limping, and the pilus's left arm dangled by his side, numbed by a scorching fireball. Fumbling out two of Sigrid's healing potions, I gave one to Inian and the other to the pilus.

After gulping the potion down, Inian led us inside the guardhouse, located in the base of one of the towers supporting the city wall. Kneeling beside a trapdoor in the floor, he unlocked the hatch and swung it back. As I sat on the edge of the floor, swinging my legs inside, he leaned to my ear. "The passageway at the bottom will take you inside the wall at the castle gate. You'll find the lock wheel there." He nodded at me in salute. "I'm going back to meet up with Matius. See you on the inside!"

"Thanks," I said to his retreating back.

****************
Reaching the county hall after heavy fighting, we were swarmed yet again by scamps and dremora churls. Merandil and the Imperial archer fired arrows as fast as they could into our opponents. The others split off into pairs and waded into combat, their blades flashing in the smoky air. I saw one of the guardsmen fall, leaving his partner exposed, and moved forward to take his place.

Using my battered leather shield to shove two scamps into a nearby burning pile of rubble, I reached Inian's back and beat back another scamp with the hilt of my sword, not wanting to hit the guardsman with my blade. "I've got you!" I shouted at him over the din of the combat. Inian didn't answer, but his blade moved with more vigor and confidence.

My glance fell on the fallen guardsman. It was Rilian. Tearing my eyes away, I managed to block another assault by yet another scamp. Don't think about it now. Mourn him later. We fought down the left side of the hall, toward the throne at the far end.

Matius shouted at me from the center of the hall. "Julian!" Taking a moment to stab an oncoming scamp, he gestured with his bloody sword towards the door at the top of the stairway. "Through there are the private quarters. Go on and find the Count, his suite is at the far end. Hurry!" He turned and yelled over his shoulder. "Merandil! Go with Julian! Show her the way!"

Hobbling up the stairs, I glanced back to see the pilus and the remaining Legion soldier, claymore ready, following me. Merandil brought up the rear, his face grim. He carried a bloodied war axe in his hand. Out of arrows. We entered the private quarters and found ourselves in a long, narrow chamber, furniture and books tumbled to the floor and burning. Several scamps assaulted us out of the billowing smoke, but the pilus and the Legion soldier blocked their flares from me. As the four of us battled through them en bloc, Merandil led us to a small corridor at the rear of the chamber.

Once all the scamps were down, we headed to the rear, encountering a door that would not budge. The claymore-wielding soldier motioned me to stand aside, and rammed his shoulder against the panel. It flew open in smithereens, the soldier stumbling into the room beyond. Hot on his heels, I looked ahead to see a big scamp standing on a disheveled bed. He screeched at us and flung a fireball at me.

Without thinking, I blocked it with my leather shield. It disintegrated under the flames. Dropping the now-useless buckler and ignoring the pain in my right knee, I leaped for the scamp, closing the distance between us before he could throw more fire. My blade entered his abdomen, and I twisted it savagely. Hissing in pain, he clawed at my eyes, but I ducked back, catching the swipe on my right cheek. As he crumpled to the floor, I stabbed him in the neck to make certain he was dead.

Coughing from the smoky air, I scanned the room for more enemies. Catching the pilus's gaze, I saw that his left arm was useless again. Merandil stepped past him into the bedchamber, searching the room for the Count. The body of a nobleman lay face down between the bed and the fireplace. The blood around his body was dry and peeling. Merandil stopped beside me, his gaze on the corpse. "My lord-?" his voice held despair.

Kneeling stiffly beside the dead noble, I turned his body over. Dead. Cacat! No rigor mortis. Large rings glittered on his fingers. Picking up the right hand, I found a signet ring, marked with the Kvatch Wolf. Merandil exhaled sharply as he recognized the face. Yes, the Count is dead. I slipped the ring off and palmed it in my left hand. Using my iron blade as a support, I struggled to my feet and turned to face the other soldiers. Seeing the look on my face, the pilus shook his head, gripping my shoulder.

"We fought hard," he said to me. "That's all we can do."

Returning to the county hall, we found it cleared of scamps. I almost hid when Matius turned to face me, hope still in his eyes. "Did you find the Count, Julian?" he asked.

"I'm sorry, sir," I answered, holding the signet ring to him. "The Count is dead." His face fell as his hand came up to take the ring.

"Damn!" he muttered, turning the ring in his fingers. "We took too long!"

I shook my head. "I think they killed him right away," I turned aside from the grief in his face. "He's been dead more than a day, sir." Looking around, I limped over to Rilian's body and knelt beside him. I'm sorry, Rilian. You were a good fighter. Reaching out, I passed my hand over his open eyes, lowering his eyelids. Nearby, I spotted the Imperial archer, also dead, his face torn away by scamps. His quiver was empty, a steel shortsword lay near his out-flung right hand.

"It's over," Matius dropped his shield with a clatter, sheathing his sword and unbuckling the sword belt. I struggled to my feet and hobbled back to him. Letting the sword fall next to the shield, he started unbuckling the mail cuirass. "I'm done, I'm tired of fighting," he declared. The other guardsmen eyed him anxiously. Almost angrily, he stripped off the armor, shoving the cuirass and surcoat into my hands. "Take this, friend. I'm grateful to you for your unflinching aid. You deserve better, but this may be of some use in your travels." He eyed my battered leathers. "Where is your shield?"

"Destroyed," I answered. "Too many fireballs."

Matius knelt and picked up his light iron shield and steel sword. He held them out to me. "These will serve better, Julian. Carry them, and remember Kvatch." Standing before me in linen shirt and leather breeches, Matius still seemed like the soldier he was. Speechless for the moment, I looked down at the armor and longsword.

"Go on," Matius smiled sadly at me, his anger gone. "You came looking for a priest named Martin, didn't you?" He nodded when I looked back at his open face. "Tierra saw him safe to the camp, right, Tierra?"

The Redguard woman glanced at me. "Yes, sir, Martin's safe at the camp."

"Go, Julian, and blessings of Akatosh be with you," Matius said wearily. "Thanks for all your help and assistance."

I was reading about the Daedra swarming and my dog was snoring and growling in his sleep behind me, lol. Good sound effects for the battle! Awesome Write !!!! Your little touches are making this story come to life!

Whew! That was a terrific, grinding, final battle! :toughninja:

This event was my favorite moment in the entire main quest:
"We saw the smoke and flames from the Gold Road, ma'am, and came up here to investigate. What can we do to help?"
You bring back memories of my own run through. Julian has exactly the same reaction I did.

Fair Enough.

I thought that the battle for the castle would be interesting. I am so glad to be proven right! The small details are what stood out to me. Like Merandil and Rilian running out of arrows, or Julian using her sword to brace herself to stand.

I'm sure that there is a mod to let you do it (since I play on the PS3, mods are not an option), but I wish there was a way in the vanilla game to give healing potions to your allies. When Julian gave potions to the guards I cheered out loud. Thank you for another great chapter.

Very, very well done! What a wonderful job you did capturing the battle for the castle. Familiar, yet different because viewed through the eyes of our old soldier.

Loads of nice touches, several mentioned above.



Yes, indeed. -_-

So many GREAT details. Loved it!

Thanks, all. The Battle for Kvatch took several rewrites to get away from the cookie-cutter feel of the whole thing.

@mALX1: Tell your puppy thanks for providing the sound effects. I'm sure he can come in handy again.

@SubRosa: I'm glad that you liked this chapter, knowing that this is your favorite part of the MQ. It's one of my high points, too. I admit that I have a particular fondness for Savlian Matius.

@Destri: I play Xbox, so no mods except for the DLC, which is mostly meh. I, too, wish I could share my healing potions with my comrades in arms. I hate losing them in combat!

@Acadian: Again, thanks for reading, and your kind words. I think Julian would love to have Buffy at her side in those Oblivion Gates - Buffy's the better archer, after all! And Julian completely respects the Buffy Doctrine.

@RemkoNL: Thanks for enjoying the chapter!

********
Chapter 4.7 The Hero of Kvatch

Walking back to the camp, I felt weary and empty. All the frenetic activity of the past twenty-four hours seemed futile. With the Count dead, what will happen to Kvatch? Who will replace him? At least Martin is still alive. Now I need to find him and get him back to Jauffre.

I stopped by the meadow to check on Paint. He seemed happy, and whickered at me. Bits of dried hay clung to his back and mane. Brushing his coat smooth with my hand, I looked around for my gear. Boldon came up to me, pack in hand.

"Here, I kept it aside for you," he said, handing me the pack. "Let me know when, and I'll have Paint ready for you."

Squinting at the westering sun, I considered the fatigue I felt in my bones. "Tomorrow morning, I think, sir," I answered, slinging the pack over my shoulder. "Thanks for keeping an eye on Paint for me."

"It was my pleasure, Julian," Boldon smiled at me. Turning from him, I limped through the camp, seeing again the grief and despair on the people's faces. Yet, on this beautiful late summer evening, I was seeing something new. Hope. The three children I had spotted on my arrival, and the two youngsters who had shared breakfast with Matius and me, wordlessly surrounded me. As I trudged on, they fell into step alongside me. A tiny hand crept into my right palm, and I looked down at the Bosmer girl. She kept her face averted, and I closed my fingers gently around hers.

We reached gra-Sharob's fire, and the children hung back. The Orc smith glanced at them, then waved for them to sit by the fire. The air was cooling rapidly with the sinking sun, and the children had only thin night-clothes. They huddled together, their eyes on us.

Silently I handed the steel sword, the mailed cuirass, and the light iron shield to gra-Sharob. She looked at them, then at me, her eyes wide. "These belong to Savlian Matius," she exclaimed. "What happened?"

"Kvatch is cleared, ma'am," I said, unbuckling the iron longsword and dropping it to the ground. Sitting heavily on a nearby stool, I reached into my pack. My fingers found the sigil stone, warm within the scrap of red wool. "All the daedra are gone. The Count is dead. Jesan Rilian is dead. The Legion archer who lent us aid is dead." I held the stone in my cold hands, seeking its warmth in spite of the screaming of souls I still could feel in it. "Matius is finished with fighting. He gave me those," I nodded at the gear.

"Do you know what he gave you?" gra-Sharob asked, raising the mail cuirass between us. "This is enchanted. It gives you extra strength and endurance."

So that's how he managed to keep going for such a long time. "Then that is an even greater gift than I thought," my voice cracked. "I need to find Martin, talk to him."

"The priest?" gra-Sharob asked. She pointed to a pavilion across the road. "He's exhausted, poor soul. He's sleeping in there." The Orc picked up her hammer. "Give me a few hours, and I'll have your gear repaired."

Still holding the stone in my left hand, I reached down, drew out the iron longsword. As the dark blade cleared the sheath, the sigil stone slipped out of my grip and struck the weapon. The metal sang discordantly, making all of us gathered around the fire jump. The orb disappeared in a brilliant flash of red. The blade glowed briefly, then went dark again.

"What was that?" gra-Sharob demanded, her hammer poised in mid-air. "You enchanted the old iron sword?"

"I- I did?" I stammered, looking vainly for the orb. "I only dropped the stone on it, now the stone's gone -"

Setting her hammer down, gra-Sharob stepped over to the blade and picked it up, evaluating it thoughtfully. She turned and tested it on a scrawny weed fighting for survival between the tents. The plant flared into fire, and burned rapidly away. "Hmm, fire damage," she mused. "Very effective against undead and will-o-wisps." Again, she eyed the blade. "It's damaged. I'll repair it for you, as well."

Sigrid walked over from her campfire. She had washed up, and tidied her hair. "Hello, Julian," she greeted me. "You look tired again. Let gra-Sharob tend to your gear, and come join me for dinner." She frowned slightly, a crease appearing between her fine eyebrows. "Such as it is." Catching my glance at the children, still huddled near gra-Sharob's fire, she turned to them. "You little ragamuffins, too. You'll only be in Batul's way if you keep your arses on her fire."

When they hesitated, gra-Sharob mock-growled at them. Her sparkling glare motivated them to leap to their feet and join me as I followed Sigrid. Once again, the Bosmer girl took my hand, and when I sat down on the bench, she snuggled next to me without a word.

Setting my pack down beneath the bench, I looked at the other children. They returned my gaze shyly, shifting their weight from side to side. "Come on, sit down," I said quietly to them. "Unlike Batul, I won't bite."

They came and settled around me, the Dunmer boy against my other side, and the older children sitting on the ground, their backs to the fire. Sigrid handed me a large plate heaped high with polenta and chopped vegetables, then handed the three on the ground a similar serving. She passed spoons all around, indicating that we should share. Pouring a cup of klah, she handed it to me, then provided the children with water.

"How are you for provisions, ma'am?" I asked Sigrid, recognizing peppers, onions, and edible mushrooms in the polenta. She shrugged, her face shadowed in the gathering dusk.

"It would be good to have some meat," she replied. "But I've been gathering as much edible plants as I can, as well as medicinal herbs and fungi. That daedra heart you gave me is going to be so useful." She looked up as an older Redguard woman joined her beside the fire. I recognized the newcomer as one of the refugees from the church.

"Thank you for rescuing Oleta and the others from the chapel," Sigrid continued, serving the other woman. "I'm glad to have her healing skills again."

"I hear you closed the Oblivion Gate," Oleta addressed me after thanking Sigrid. "That was very brave of you."

My mouth full, I shook my head, aware of the children's eyes on me. Swallowing the grub, I looked at the Redguard boy. "What is your name?"

"Avik," he answered, looking down at the plate in his lap. The two girls on either side of him paused in their spooning.

"How old are you, Avik?" I had noticed that the two smaller children had stopped eating from my dish.

"Thirteen," he answered. "Boldon's my pa."

"He's the only one of the children to still have family living," Sigrid volunteered from the other side of the fire. "His mother and sister died -" her voice trailed off.

"I'm sorry, Avik," I said. "I know what it's like to lose family like this. It's hard, but I've noticed you taking care of this little girl here," I nodded at the little Bosmer. "That's a brave thing to do." I looked down at her. "Isn't it, little one?" The girl's head moved against my side as she nodded, looking down at her spoon.

"Pa says we have to look out for each other now," Avik drew himself up, pulling his shoulders back.

"And your pa's right," I said firmly. Catching the Altmer girl's gaze as she looked at me from Avik's left side, I smiled at her. "And you, what's your name, and how old are you?"

"Irinwe," she answered shyly, looking down at her hands. "I'm eighteen."

Typical Altmer. You look all of ten. That difference will only become greater as you gain years. "I saw you with these two," I pointed at the Imperial girl sitting at Avik's right side, then at the Dunmer boy at my own left side. "You were looking out for them, too. That makes you brave, as well." A faint blush crept over the young girl's golden cheeks as she kept her eyes downcast.

The Imperial girl sat up. Her dark red hair waved around her pixie face, and she brushed it back impatiently. "I'm Melissada Veta, and I'm nine," she declared. Pointing at the Dunmer boy, she said, "He's Dalen Llenim, and he's six." A little overbearing, this one, but protective.

"You have a good heart, Melissada Veta," I said to her. "Dalen, what do you think?" handing my platter to Avik, I put my arms around the two children. The Dunmer boy nodded.

"She's just like my big sister -" his voice trailed off. I bent down to him.

"You mean, bossy?" I whispered to him, just loud enough for the red-headed girl to hear. Dalen looked at her mock scowl, then giggled.

I turned to the Bosmer girl. "And you, what is your name?"

"Falisia," she whispered, finally meeting my gaze. "And I'm -" she paused, holding up her right hand, thumb folded into her palm, "four years old." Her green eyes held mine. "And how old are you?"

I stifled a chuckle at the direct question, at the horrified gazes from Irinwe and Melissada. "Old," I answered. "I'm Julian, from Anvil. Any of you know where Anvil is?"

Nods from the three older children, negative shakes from the two young'uns at my side. "Anvil," I said for their benefit, "is a small city on the coast south of here," I pointed in that general direction. "I've come a long way, but I'm glad I'm here, with you."

"Can I ask you something?" Dalen looked up at me, his red eyes curious. Not sure what to expect, I nodded.

"What does it feel like to be a hero?"

"Who's saying I'm a hero?" I exclaimed, startled.

"Why, everyone is," Melissada piped up. "All the grownups are calling you the Hero of Kvatch!"

"Hero of Kvatch?" I repeated. "Me?" I looked up at Sigrid, then realized that several people had gathered around while I was talking to the children.

"You closed the Oblivion Gate!" Avik exclaimed. "That's what a hero does!"

"No," I was shaking my head, lowering my gaze and pitching my voice to be heard. "No, that's what a soldier does. A real hero is someone who does not give up just because bad things happen." Looking up again, I glanced around at the circle of faces visible in the firelight. "The daedra set out to destroy Kvatch, and they failed. What's up there is just a bunch of ruined and burning buildings. That's not Kvatch. You," I looked at each half-shadowed face, "are Kvatch, and in you, Kvatch still lives." Rumpling Falisia's black hair, I looked at each child again. "That makes you heroes, not me."

Brilliant way of Julian discovering how to use a Sigil Stone to enchant an item! I also liked how you described the screaming of souls within it.

Very good dialogue over dinner. It all flowed very naturally, and filled us in on things without feeling like an info-dump. Excellent example of how to show rather than tell.

Finally, a sweet ending.

This brought tears!




And your description of the sigil stone and happening across the enchanting - Awesome !! Julian has a way with children! I will send mine over first chance I get! :rofl: (just kidding, there is only one left at home to send. Let him ask JULIAN 50 times "Do you wish I was ... ____________ - the blank being whatever, and runs from : Steven Tyler, a pencil, a magnifying glass, an Orc, - you get the picture, I am sure - :rofl: )

This flowed very very naturally. Well written (as always).

It just 'felt' like the right time and place for a break, of sorts, after what Julian has just been through.



Two reasons for quoting this. Firstly, I was really struck by how well this passage is written (yes, I'm envious ). Secondly, it offers the first glimpse into what others above have mentioned - your fine job of showing Julian interacting with the children. The wisdom of her years shows around the campfire.

The sigil stone enchanting made me chuckle as you highlight the old soldier's, um lack of magical background. Again, well done. :goodjob:

I love threads that feed me. Polenta is just fine, my friend, and certainly beats eating Daedra heart.

I continue to enjoy Julian's wonderful story.

This was charming and touching. That bit of philosophizing was everything I would expect to hear from a true soldier and not merely a killer of men.