(ESO FanFic: Templar of Shezarr – Part 7)

Keeping Promises – Closed RP (Rusia Cassiana & Misto Thalos AKA Coldwater)
Locations: Hawke Manor and Northern Elsweyr

Rusia had been overwhelmed by a lot in a very short time. She was still considering the contract she wanted to put out for information about her apparently murderous mother. Perhaps someone in the Mistveil Company mercs she’d joined might be better than she was at finding previously assumed dead people trying to assassinate their offspring… Hmmm. She had also promised to lend her help to The Grey Legion in their quest to help war refugees after their leader had literally saved her life, but kept missing opportunities to join their missions. She really needed to rectify that. 

Then there was her visits with the beautiful Ishira from the Mistveil Company mercs. She still wasn’t sure exactly where that was going. Plus, she was now playing indefinite host to one of Lagrobt’s old ‘friends’, a bard by the name of Sabine who Rusia believed was far more than she seemed on the surface.

Still, even with all of that, she couldn’t forget the odd visitation she’d had from a Dunmer elf who had somehow decided she could help him with the dragons ravaging Elsweyr. Rusia had dealt with a lot of nasty creatures in her rather short life as a mercenary, but dragons? She was afraid her short life might end up never growing much longer if she tried to take on giant, flying, fire-breathing creatures. 

She had made promises though. To her father, to try to always help those who asked. To Sindri of The Grey Legion, that she would put her sword between the terrors of war and those who suffered from its wrath. And finally, to the mysterious elf who had come to her asking to defend the helpless against a threat they had no power to fight. 

“Well dammit, I guess that’s that then,” Rusia muttered as she picked up the glowing device the elf had left after his surprise visitation. “Let’s see what this Dunmer wants from me regarding these dragons. Besides, it will be distracting, if not pleasant, vacation from everything else driving me absolutely nuts right now.”

Holding the device up to her face, Rusia peered into it and spoke as the elf had instructed her to do when she was ready. “Uh, hello Mr. Dunmer. I guess, if it’s a good time for you, I’m available to help if you still want me to. Let’s try not to get me killed though, if that’s at all possible. Thanks.” She put the device down on the nightstand beside her bed and grabbed her sword belt to strap it on. The device she’d spoken into whirred softly as it began to glow even more brightly.

“This should be interesting…”

The glow of the device slowly forms into the image of a blue face lacking hair and no definitive male or female characteristics. The image flickers as the head rotates looking about the room an autonomous voice speaks from it as it settles it’s sight on Rusia, “Rusia Cassiana, female. Racial origin Imperial. User has been identified.” The image flickers as it continues, “Message from user Coldwater.” The image shifts to a familiar face that of a dunmer elf with white hair, the image of Misto looks directly at Rusia, “Sorry about this but things are a bit hectic at the moment and so I left this recording in case you should try to contact me. The device your seeing this on is know as a Personal Temporal Spatial Device. I know big long name which most likely doesn’t mean anything to you but simply put it will allow you to travel to any location of your choice.” The image of Misto flickers as he continues, “Anyways I’m head to speak with the Order once more about the issues in Elswyer, you may join me or ask your device to deliver you to the command post. If you should decide on the later upon arriving ask for Do’inna or Cresciu Sosia. They’re going to need someone with your expertise to help with patrols and so forth.” Misto’s image flickers once more, “Oh and feel free to select whatever image and voice you wish for your Personal Temporal Spatial Device to have.” The image of Misto flickers and is once more replace by the blue face. It stares up at Rusia, the autonomous voice speaks once more, “Greetings Miss Cassiana as per Master Coldwaters orders how may I assist you?” The image falls silent and stares at the young imperial woman.

“Well, I was right. This is going to be interesting,” Rusia said, cocking her head sideways at the strange little device. “So I guess Coldwater was the elf’s name, or at least what he’s going by.” She turns the thing around and upside down, the odd blue face turning with it, before raising it up to her face. “Uh, I guess my image would be whatever I look like right now? And you can call me, or it can call me, Ru I guess? And, hmm, well, this is my voice, so that would be my voice, okay?”

The device whirred in her hand, and an image of herself replaced the plain blue face. She stared at the magical reflection, smoothing back tendrils of auburn red hair trying to escape from the tight bun she’d tried to contain it in. The device whirred once more, and then asked if she wanted to confirm her choices. “Uh, yes, sure. Confirmed. That’s me. Thank you?”

Rusia’s face faded and was replaced again by the genderless blue face, which seemed to be waiting expectantly. “Hmmm. I don’t want to interrupt, uh, Master Coldwater if he is in the midst of some kind of negotiation or business. Probably better to just transport myself right to where I’m needed.” She set the device down on her nightstand again, double checking her armor was tightly lashed, her weapons strapped on properly, and her field kit pack closed and latched. Slinging the pack over one shoulder, she grabbed the device once more and held it up to her face again.

“Take me to the ‘command post’ please,” she instructed the object. Rusia braced herself as she felt a tingle all over her skin and the walls of her bedroom phased away. She closed her eyes to avoid feeling seasick during the transition. She knew she’d arrived at her destination when the tingle faded from her skin and the quiet of her manor was replaced with the sounds of multiple voices having conversations not far from her new location. Opening her eyes, she immediately caught the attention a Khajiit standing against a wall just a few feet away.

The Khajiit stepped toward her with their hackles raised, but relaxed when she held the orb up she’d just used to transport there. “Um, hello, my pardon, but could you direct me to…” Rusia searched her memory for the right names the Dunmer had told her in his message. “Do’inna or Cresciu Sosia? Master Coldwater sent me.”

What was formally a few weeks prior just a few small buildings has now turned into a village on a mountain side. People bustle about with buckets of water and various tools, some carrying bags of grain. Others carrying weapons, saddle bags. Everyone seeming to have a sense of purpose and calm presence to them. Southern cool wind blows down off the peek of the mountain.

The Khajiit nods and points off towards the west along a dirt road that leads between some buildings, “Those ones will be at the command tent on the edge of the village. This one would be happy to show the five claw the way.” The Khajiit gestures for Rusia to follow them.

As the two wind between the buildings the laughter of Khajiit and imperial children can be heard, the smells of various aroma’s drift from some of the buildings. As they approach the edge of the village over the outer buildings a large canvas tent with four flags baring blue dragons can be seen fluttering on the corners of the tent.
A man with shoulder length dark hair tied back in a pony tail steps out of the tent, his armor marred and scuffed sports a blue dragon on the chest. He pauses as his green gaze falls upon Rusia and flashes a roguish smiles at her, “So Miss Cassiana I presume? Are you going to be our new hero?” His roguish smiles widen ever so slightly towards the end as he offers a partial bow to her.

Startled, Rusia sketched a quick bow back to the man. “Ah, hero, no. Most certainly not the hero type I’m afraid. Just a dodgy merc looking to pay it forward a bit.” Rusia cleared her throat softly, resting one hand on the pommel of her sword, Grayswandir. “I have some experience in being a merc company lieutenant. I’m not really sure how Master Coldwater would have known that from our brief interactions… but he does seem the mysterious sort. Anyway, he thought I might be helpful in planning out patrols and the like.”

The man raises an eyebrow at Rusia and smiles again, gesturing for her to proceed him into the tent behind him. “Well, let’s get to work, shall we?”

*******************************************

Rusia rested her head on her hands and stared over the map spread out across the middle of the table. “Too much territory, never enough warm bodies,” she muttered to herself. She’d been planning out patrol routes for hours, trying to cover as much ground as possible with the forces on hand, but she was feeling a headache coming on. “This will have to do for the time being.”

Stretching her arms up, Rusia felt her spine pop in several places and yawned loudly. Behind her, a young Khajiit cub wearing a tabard sewn with a blue dragon hopped up off a cushion in the corner of the tent and ran to her side. “Does m’am need anything? This one is happy to fetch food, wine?”

Rusia smiled at the eager cub, always so keen on being helpful since she and her parents were rescued from a burning village after a dragon attack. “Thank you Ma’isha, but I am well. Why don’t you take yourself off to bed now, it’s very late.” The cub bowed and started to leave, but Rusia called her back. “Oh wait, I’m sorry, I’m exhausted and forgot.” She dug through her belt pouch for a handful of coins and then poured them into Ma’isha’s paws. “Your wages for the week dear. Take those back to your parents and tell them you have been incredibly helpful.”

The Khajiit child beamed as she tucked the coins into a sash at her waist. “This one is pleased to be of use! Will return again as the sun rises!” Rusia smiled at the child again, and leaned toward her as if they were sharing a secret. “Now, you be sure to keep one of those coins at least just for you! You’ve earned it dearling and there are lots of lovely things you might like in our growing little market. I hear,” she whispered very seriously, “they might even have… pocket pies!”

Ma’isha squealed just a tiny bit and clutched at her sash as Rusia waved her out of the tent to return home. “Such a sweet little thing,” she said to herself after the child had left. “Amazing she is so good-hearted and happy after all she has been through.” The thought turned from pleasant to sad as Rusia thought of the other children who had not survived to try to recover from their trauma. She carefully gathered up the map she’d marked with chalk so as not to smudge it and rolled it up to take to the strategy meeting in the morning.

Rusia considered popping over to the new headquarters of The Gray Legion again for a brief visit, but last time she’d been there, Sindri had been deeply entrenched in trying to get the place in some semblance of order. Rusia had tried to help or get him to rest, considering he’d just nearly died, but he’d just waved her off. She had no idea yet what being named his Second while he was injured meant, but so far it mostly seemed to be chastising him for over exerting himself.

Meanwhile, however, the Legion had proved invaluable in helping funnel some of the more badly injured refugees they’d taken in to places of healing. For now, serving both Sindri and Master Coldwater had been a happy convergence of duties, even if rather exhausting flitting back and forth. Thankfully, she hadn’t been asked in on any bounties for the Mistveil mercs lately as the company was on a well-deserved break from group contracts at the moment. .

If she wasn’t going to check in with the Legion tonight, Rusia contemplated porting back to her house for a truly good night’s sleep. She hadn’t had one in days. The cot in the tent was hardly comfortable. But then she remembered that slinky bard friend of Lagobt’s was still probably crashing in their spare room. She really didn’t want to deal with her right now, especially after the scene she’d made when she interrupted Rusia having a picnic with Ishira, the beautiful merc she’d met while on a contract with the Mistveil Company. The Bard Sabine, as she always self-importantly introduced herself, had seriously mucked that up.

No, Rusia thought, even if not for the bard, it was better if she stayed here anyway. There was always the chance of an unexpected attack or a new group of bandits brought in to be put to the question: fight or be put down like the dogs they were. That was Master Coldwater’s orders, and as bloody as it might be, she saw the logic in it. Bandits were scavenges, feeding off the weak and dying. She had no mercy for them in her heart.

Turning down the lantern by her cot, Rusia stripped off her boots and leather jerkin, taking care not to snag the blue dragon pin stuck through the shoulder. The rest of her clothes she left on, just in case. She laid down and tried to find some sort of comfortable position to sleep in. Her mind, however, just kept racing around. This conflict seemed to stretch out endlessly ahead, and she worried herself sick about all those who might lose their homes or their lives.

Rusia was tired of spending her days in tents and inspecting the patrol lines before they were sent out. She would speak to Master Coldwater tomorrow, if he was available, or to Do’inna or Crescius. It was time she stopped just using her brains and put a little more brawn into this battle. She could almost hear her blade ring softly in agreement from the weapon stand by her cot. Satisfied at the thought of actually putting her sword to work personally in defense of innocent kitlings like Ma’isha, Rusia finally fell off to sleep.

She had packed her gear and stowed her saddlebags on Snow, but Rusia found herself reluctant to leave. These past few weeks she’d led a frenetic life, porting between home, The Grey Legion headquarters, and the camp turned village in Northern Elsweyr where she’d been assisting in the fight against both bandits and dragons ravaging the countryside. One would think she’d be ready to leave one of those sets of duties behind. Instead, Rusia found herself feeling regret.

Coldwater had things under control and his operation here now running very smoothly indeed. So much so that he had allowed himself to be pulled away to other responsibilities for the time being. She believed she’d served him well, both in the strategy tent and out on the battlefield, rounding up bandits and rescuing those they could from marauding dragons.

At this point, however, Rusia felt superfluous with all the new recruits coming in with much more experience in both dragon hunting and large scale conflicts than she had. Plus, she was feeling the call to spend more of her time helping with The Grey Legion affairs, especially after temporarily serving as Sindri’s second while he was recuperating from a terrible attack.

Speaking of attempted assassinations, Rusia also needed to stop hesitating out of fear of what she’d find and actually try to discover if her mother really was still alive — and had tried to kill her just a few weeks ago. She’d intended to put out a contract for information, maybe to the Mistveil Company where she occasionally picked up bounties herself. She’d kept putting it off though, with the excuse she had so many other things going on. Time to buckle down and get it done.

Scouting out people who didn’t want to be found wasn’t one of her strong suits. She needed help. Her steward, Lagrobt, had also hinted that his friend — and currently her rather unwelcome houseguest — the Bard Sabine might also prove to be useful in that regard. If she could stomach asking for the woman’s help. Lagrobt was like family to Rusia, but she was not fond of his Bard friend in the least.

Sighing loudly, Rusia carefully took one more look around the tent she’d been using to make sure she didn’t miss anything. Her little helper Ma’isha had done an excellent job of collecting all her things and cleaning up. She’d rewarded her with a hefty bag of coins. Rusia was very pleased she’d been able to work with a Grey Legion contact to find Ma’isha and her parents a safe place to settle down on a little farm far away from dragons and relatively bandit free. They would be leaving shortly after she did.

Leaving the tent, Rusia whistled her particular call for her glaringly white warhorse Snow. He’d wandered a few tents down and was busy begging carrots from someone making stew over a cook fire. Mouthing his successfully won prize, the overly large equine sauntered back to his mistress looking quite pleased with himself. She playfully swatted at his ear before setting her foot to a stirrup and mounting.

*Time to go home,* she thought to herself as she rode out through the camp to find a safe, open spot to port her and Snow back to Reaper’s March. *Or at least, time to go back to the closest thing to home I have. And time to have a talk with Lagrobt and that Bard. Even if she is willing to help me out, I really need her to get the hell out of my house before I throw her smug, arrogant self down the well.*

IF THEY’RE ROSES