Bantam guar! Yes, they do resemble nude chickens, and probably taste like 'em too.

Moonshadow sounds lovely - almost like Fargrave in ESO. Not sure I would have liked star dew, though . . . especially if it's sweeter than mead!

Neelo and Freckles! They sound adorable, even though those teeth look more carnivore rather than herbivore. ;P

Now for a walk - accompanied by a pair of pack guar, of course.

What a nice intro to Azura’s realm. Time for some provisioning in Rosehaven before setting out for Valparia and, hopefully, access to Cheydinhal.

Wonderful descriptions of Dozara’s actions as a Twilight and how she managed mundane tasks. Same with the nice touches of life in Moonshadow with some of its flora and fauna.

I’m sure Jerric was happy to find himself in a tavern as he enjoyed some bantam guar and star dew. So Jerric is now pack guar qualified and it’s off to Valparai!

Two Nords = two meals each, minimum.

And recalling Treydog's description of getting guar-certified: does Jerric now have to wear a striped shirt?

This post has been edited by ghastley: Apr 22 2025, 08:29 PM

I'm only up to chapter 5 so far, but Jerric is the best kind of helpful rogue-ish type, Grits. You've been working on this for 15 years?! The output seems so high at first that it doesn't compute in my brain, lol.


Looking forward to getting caught up!

Previously: Jerric is in Moonshadow attempting a shortcut back to Tamriel. He set out on the road across the Silver Plain accompanied by Kjestrid, Shamir-do, Nereli, Sister Ma’sani, Renlys, winged twilight Dozara, and the pack guars Freckles and Neelo. Ma’sani says they won’t need to sleep until they reach the city of Valparai, where the stable Gate to County Cheydinhal is located.

SubRosa: Exactly, I think the mechanics are similar regardless of the realm. And I think it would slow linguistic drift in Mundus to have not only centuries-old elves at the grocery store but also people who lived thousands of years ago walking around and talking in daedric realms. It was fun to think about Moonshadow culture. Thank you, SubRosa!

Rider: I suspect guar chomp down the occasional unwary critter while they’re grazing with those big shovel mouths. I bet they could strip a short tree of its leaves in seconds. Thank you, Rider!

Acadian: I now realize that Jerric started his Moonshadow journey with a plate of wings, fries, and magical Sprite. I must have been hungry. The winged twilights of ESO contributed quite a bit to Dozara's personality. Previously I had only thought of them as foes. Thank you, Acadian!

ghastley: Jerric’s baptism by guar is just beginning. He will need a new shirt by the end! Thank you, ghastley!

Kane: Welcome to the story, Kane! I’m glad you’re here! It’s funny to think that when I started this, Skyrim hadn’t even been announced yet. And now we have a Remaster of Oblivion. I didn’t write at all for several years while I was having some health issues, so there aren’t 15 solid years of updates to get through. I hope you enjoy the story!

Chapter 19: Moonshadow, Part Two

Ma'sani led them out of the village and onto the vast, grassy plain. As they walked Jerric noticed small flowering vines growing up some of the grass stalks. Some areas had tall mushrooms peeking out from between the tufts. Insects buzzed between them on iridescent wings. The road took them across several streams that were so shallow at the fords, they were in no danger of even soaking their socks.

The light slowly faded from rose to gray but no darker. Ma'sani directed them off the road to a broad path beaten through the tall grass.

"This one will walk at the rear for a time," she told Kjestrid. "Do you see the far mountain?"

"I see it."

"Take us in that direction. We will turn when we reach the river."

"All right." Kjestrid gestured for Nereli to take the place at her side. Jerric followed beside Shamir-do who was now leading Neelo, while Renlys and Ma'sani took up the rear. Dozara was visible in the air overhead, but not always.

They walked peacefully for a time, listening to the creak of leather, the thump of guar feet, and insects singing in the grasses. Jerric could see how Ma'sani might meditate on her feet. With the dim light and lack of cover, he found himself lulled out of his habitual guard vigilance and simply walked along in the twilight.

Dozara swooped down and landed at a distance, keeping her wings outstretched. "Cloudskimmers," she called to Ma'sani. After a short running start, she was in the air again.

Renlys appeared at Jerric's side, between him and the broad Khajiit. "They're big birds." He made a flapping gesture, eyes as round as a human's. "I read about them in a book."

"They eat elves, I take it?"

Renlys replied with a squeak. Now Jerric could see them, pale spots against the purple sky. Streaks of white lightning flashed from Dozara into the flock. The grass began to rustle.

Shamir-do made a surprised yelp. As Jerric laughed, something smacked into one of his shins. Another something ran up his leg.

"Hump a goose!" He shook his leg. The something clung for an instant, then flew into Neelo's hip. A wave of creatures about as long as his arm approached, leaping knee-height through the grass. Several more bounced off of him and off of Freckles.

The guar reared back onto her tail and left leg, bellowing. She brought her right foot down in a stomp that shook Jerric's teeth.

"Scuttlers!" Ma'sani cried out. "They are harmless! Keep your eyes skyward!"

The cloudskimmers had drawn close enough to see them swooping down, picking scuttlers out of the grass. Jerric gripped Freckles's lead in his shield hand and drew his sword. The guar dug her toes in and jerked away from Jerric, yanking him to his knees. Renlys let out a shriek as Jerric's blade sliced through his robe. Jerric froze in horror. He hadn't felt resistance. Was the kid..?

Renlys pushed at Jerric with both hands, looking more terrified than hurt. Shamir-do shouted as Neelo pulled away from him. Jerric got up to run after Freckles, but Kjestrid had her sword in hand with the other on Ma'sani, pushing her to the middle of the group. Nereli had her bow out with an arrow on the string. In a blink the four fighters had made a defensive circle.

"Don't move," Kjestrid barked at Ma'sani and Renlys.

The flock of cloudskimmers had split into three, harried from above by Dozara. One of those went in pursuit of Freckles. One headed in a direction presumably after Neelo. The others arrowed down at Jerric's group.

"I can fight," piped Renlys.

Kjestrid still had her eyes on the birds. Jerric doubted that anything hunting scuttlers was going to pick up an elf.

"All right," he said, moving aside. "I'll watch your back. Let's see it."

Renlys dropped to a knee, the tall grass still rippling at his chin level with scuttler activity. He placed the heels of his palms together, stretched out his arms, and let loose a gout of fire that first ignited the grass tops and then streamed skyward in a glorious plume.

"Finally I can see something," said Kjestrid.

Some of the birds veered off, their cries mingling with Dozara's battle warble. Several plummeted blazing to the ground like New Life Festival sparklers. Jerric started laughing as he and Shamir-do put out the grass fire. It smelled like autumn on the Kvatch plateau with gardeners burning leaves in the alleys.

Jerric squinted at the sky, moisture in his eyes. "Are they gone?" he asked Shamir-do.

"This one cannot see them any more."

"What a rutting spectacle," said Kjestrid. "I beg your pardon, Sister Ma'sani."

"This one agrees," said Ma'sani.

Dozara landed lightly on the path. The draft from her wings sent dust and smoke into their eyes.

"Freckles ran off toward… whatever is that way," said Jerric. "Is it trees?" There was a smudge against the horizon, but it could have been anything.

Shamir-do pointed in a different direction. "Neelo went that way."

"Those are not trees," said Ma'sani. "Those are house-banyans. Where once stood a cluster of mushroom towers, parasitic vines took over. Those who dwell there call it Droathra."

"I'll go after her," said Jerric. "It's my fault she got away."

"If you imagine yourself to be stronger than a pack guar, then you are prouder than you look," said Dozara.

Jerric took a moment to puzzle that out. "So you're saying…" He scratched under his beard, still uncertain.

"It is your fault," Nereli told him. "You should have held onto her."

Jerric started off at a trot. He was not going to outrun a stampeding guar, but with a trampled path that wide he should be able to follow until he caught up. The cloudskimmers still didn't concern him. No doubt they followed the guar to catch anything they startled out of cover as they ran.

He soon realized that Kjestrid, Nereli, and Shamir-do had followed him.

"Thought you'd chase your own guar, cat," Jerric said.

"This one would rather."

"Sister Ma'sani said to go with you," said Nereli.

Kjestrid gave Jerric a sideways look but said nothing. Nereli was the only one who would have listened to Ma'sani. Regardless of what the priestess had told them, Kjestrid and Shamir-do still thought they were escorting Jerric.

The breeze had picked up. The trail that Freckles had trampled through the grass was getting difficult to see.

"Can you track in this light?" Jerric asked Shamir-do.

"This one we tell you if you go in the wrong direction."

"How much of my stuff is on this guar?" Nereli asked.

"None," said Jerric. "You should have followed Neelo." Nereli sounded like she had plenty of wind to talk, so Jerric picked up the pace.

It took two water breaks worth of running to get close enough to see the individual vine towers. They rose abruptly up from the plain without any lesser growth to soften the transition. Firelight glowed at the base of the structures while a cooler light shone from within the lattice-like trunks. Something fatty was grilling.

"Do you suppose they eat guar?" said Jerric.

A figure rose out of the grass. It called out in a language that Jerric didn't recognize. The voice could have been male or female.

"Tamrielic?" called Kjestrid.

"State your business," they said.

"I'm Jerric. We don't mean any trouble. Some, uh, skimmers spooked our guar. Have you seen her?"

There was a soft popping sound, and a ball of light floated from the figure's hands toward them. It stopped in the air above their heads.

"I am Aman-enle," they said. "You approach Droathra village."

"All right," said Jerric. "Pleased to meet you."

"You are newcomers?"

"Not really." Jerric hooked a thumb at Nereli and Shamir-do. "These two will be yours some day, but we're just passing through."

"We had a guide," Kjestrid explained.

"You are outsiders, then." Aman-enle crossed their arms over their chest. "And you've had a complication."

"Yeah," said Jerric. "Smells like dinner time over there. You're not cooking my guar, are you?"

"No. Come with me into the village. When the guar-herders return we will ask about yours. Perhaps you have goods to trade. We will be pleased to hear news of your world and speak some Tamrielic."

Jerric shouldered his way past Shamir-do and Kjestrid to fall into step beside Aman-enle. The mer had indigo patterns painted across their face. Jerric wondered if they were permanent, or just cosmetics.

"Are you the night watch?" Jerric asked. "I mean, if it's night?"

"No. I was out for a walk. But you are in luck, our rest period approaches."

As they drew closer to the village, more scents drifted to them on the breeze. The sweet scent must be from the tree-vines. A rich, earthy smell came from somewhere to their left. From ahead Jerric detected the already familiar odor of guar dung.

"I'm taking you to the guar paddock," said Aman-enle. "Your pack animal may have… Yes. See there?"

"No."

"Ah," said Shamir-do. "This one sees our Freckles."

Jerric squinted but still couldn't see anything moving, much less anything that looked like a guar. "Does she still have her packs?"

"Yes. She appears uninjured."

Kjestrid spoke up. "Aman-enle, may we camp at the base of your village? We'd like to rest. We'll be on our way in the morning. Er, after your rest period."

"With shadowcats and figments on the prowl, you will be welcome to shelter with us above. Join us for a meal. There will be many who want to meet you."

They had reached the paddock. Jerric whistled for Freckles. She raised her head and snorted back at him.

"Hey girl." Jerric ran his hands over the guar's head, then checked her feet. "I'll get her settled. We don't have goods to trade unless you'd want camp pots and laundry. Could we chop some wood for you or something?"

Aman-enle looked startled. "Oh! Did you mean firewood? There is no need, we twist dried grass into sticks for burning." They glanced up at the looming vine-trees.

"Right," said Jerric. "I didn't mean to upset your house." He looked up too, but the vines didn't seem to be doing anything.

"Some of these folk might have been Bosmer," Nereli reminded him.

"Yes," said Aman-enle. "Though there is no Green Pact here, we do thank the banyans for our shelter." He gestured above. "You can see that some are newcomers, with eyes as useless as the rest of you mortals." He bowed his head toward Shamir-do. "Apart from our night-sighted Khajiiti friend, of course. They use glowstones when they need them. We do not require flame for heat. Only for cooking springhares and antelope, and for drying the mushrooms."

Jerric's stomach rumbled. "Mushrooms? Is that what I smell? What kind of mushrooms do you grow here?"

"Many kinds. The soil that supported the fungus towers long ago proved ideal for mushroom farming. That is why we settled here." He gestured around at whatever Shamir-do was the only one who could see. "Our guar herd is made up of pack animals. That is how we take our products to market."

"In Valparai?" asked Kjestrid. "That's where we were headed."

"Yes, among other destinations. Ah, here comes the herd now."

There was a babble of excitement as the herders greeted the visitors, examined Freckles, observed Jerric's handling, and made comments from the helpful to the ridiculous. Shortly most began climbing up the outside of the vine towers.

"We keep watch at all hours," one of the herders assured Jerric. "Your Freckles will be safe with us. Go enjoy your meal and some rest. I'll be up later."

"He has to milk his guar first," someone piped up from the group of scruffy elves.

"Want a hand with that?" asked Jerric. It didn't seem right to show up from another realm and just be so helpless.

Raucous laughter greeted his remark. "Yeah," someone else called out. "Course he does. And you can milk mine when you're through."

Jerric got the idea that they were not talking about guar. Or milk.

Kjestrid clapped him on the shoulder. "Enjoy yourself. I don't plan to wait around for all that." She followed Aman-enle up the vines.

Oh, it's not hard to milk a guar! *whistles while Jerric gropes for nonexistent nipples*

Those cloud-skimmers sound amazing, wonderful and terrifying all at the same time. I'm sure the scuttlers feel they're only terrifying.

Ha! Trailing a runaway guar across a grassy plain isn't all that difficult. Just followed the flattened grass!

Boy, Freckles sure ran a loooong way off!

Guar herders among fungus towers! Sounds like a certain part of Tamriel . . . .

How many levels of detour are we on now? Every time they get on a path to somewhere, something comes up to deflect them. I'm going to need reminders of where they're ultimately trying to go.

At least Jerric can tell one guar from another. Otherwise they'd be back-tracking to swap guars, on top of the detours.

A nice walk in the twilight otherworld turns nasty when Cliff Racers appear! I really wish someone would do something about those things. I would say that would be worth making them a saint...

Renlys might not be a saint, but at least some fire magic did the trick with those Cliff Racers.

The unexpected side quest to recover the lost guar brings us to a welcome interlude. It is nice to meet some of the people who live here in Moonshadow, and see how they live in this otherworld. It is nice to meet someone in a Daedric Realm that is not trying to kill you. That is assuming they really are friendly, and are not lulling Jerric and company into a false sense of security before attempting to murder them all.

The opening of this episode felt quite epic as the travelers began their trek across the grassy plains bathed in perpetual twilight.

Cloudskimmers! Good thing someone knows a fire spell and someone else knows how to put out grass fires.

Uh-oh, the pack guars took off. I figure Jerric is probably right that the cliffracers followed the guar to grab whatever the guar flushed out of the grass.

What an exotic and charming place you created here with this banyon tree vine village! SubRosa is right – nice to meet a friendly village instead of strangers who want to kill them.

As far as diversions from their path, I'm all about the journey over the destination. Divert away!

I do wonder how the other (Neelo chasing) half of the little band is fairing. They have the elegant grace of that winged twilight and her lightning while this Freckles group has the power and majesty of big Nord who knows how to hit hard and break stuff.

I feel that. Not for the same reason (hope you're doing better!) but after Call of the Wind in 2018 I couldn't write anything for almost 7 years. Everything I tried fizzled out, and it was on my fourth attempt at Seeking Solace that it all finally clicked again!

Chapter six, pt3. Annette was my grandmother's name. It was nice to see it again, and in such a nice tale of celebration.

Previously: After a cloudskimmer-fueled scuttler stampede startled their guar, Jerric, Kjestrid, Shamir-do, and Nereli tracked Freckles to the house-banyan village Droathra. They have been invited up for a sleepover.

Rider: I’m sure Freckles would title this part “Freckles Has Adventure All By Herself.” We’ll see this update why she kept going. It has been fun to imagine how Moonshadow might be. Thank you, Rider!

ghastley: No kidding, they started off in Bruma on a walk toward Cloud Ruler Temple. Then there was a Gate, then they came back through another Gate. This shortcut started in Blacklight, but they had to walk to get there and then walk again to get to the portal. Gjaever was onto something when he decided to just traipse across Skyrim instead. He may beat them back to Bruma.

SubRosa: I think it would be hard to relax in any daedric realm, even one of the “good” ones. Unless you’d already given them your soul. Saint Renlys! Our young acolyte definitely wanted to impress with his fire show. Thank you, SubRosa!

Acadian: Thank you, Acadian! It has been fun to dream up some Moonshadow landscapes. That village of friendly Argonians in ESO’s Coldharbour made me think about hospitality in Moonshadow. I’m glad you’re enjoying the journey. More Moonshadow adventures ahead!

Kane: Annette, the lovely teenager from Weye! I almost forgot that Jerric has the Jewel of the Rumare. I’m glad that your writing has clicked for you. I’m looking forward to catching up with your Children of Kyne series. Thank you, Kane!

Chapter 19: Moonshadow, Part Three

Declining the guar-milking opportunity, Jerric followed Kjestrid up the vines. After about twenty feet they were able to slip inside the cylindrical lattice of the banyan tower. Within, a ramp spiraled upward. Platforms had been constructed across the open middle to create large, round dwellings. The rooms held every type of object one would find in a Cyrodilic cottage. As they climbed past, a few people greeted them with nods or waves. The ramp passed in and out of the lattice tower walls at intervals, depending on the type of dwelling that had been constructed. There were few partitions and even fewer hanging tapestries to screen the spaces. Though the barracks method of simply not looking would have supplied privacy, Jerric couldn't resist.

By the time they reached a height that made Jerric debate sending a stream through the vines rather than jogging back down to the privy, Aman-enle stepped onto one of the platforms, beckoning for them to follow.

"Here I dwell with my mate," they said, smiling at a slim, Bosmer-height elf with markings like Aman-enle's on their face. "Dearest, I bring outsiders! Please meet Nereli, Shamir-do, Kjestrid, and Jerric." Aman-enle turned back to them. "My beloved, Joman-enle."

"Pleased to meet you," said Jerric. He quit trying to figure out gender, race, and Moonshadow naming conventions and focused on the important. Joman-enle had laid a meal out on a low table.

"Welcome!" said Joman-enle. Their voice was low-pitched and pleasant. "Come, take your ease with us! Aman..?"

"Yes, yes, I will invite them. The glowstones, my love." Aman-enle turned at the doorway and beamed a smile at the group. "I shall return in a moment."

By the time they had shed and stowed their armor, more folk had arrived bearing food and drink. Joman-enle supplied them with pottery plates and tall drinking vessels made of shell or horn. The babble of voices made it difficult to tell who was talking to whom. Or perhaps that was the effect of whatever dried thing Joman-enle had smoldering in a small brazier.

Jerric looked into his cup. What was this drink? He took another sip. It tasted like beef broth and ale.

Kjestrid was talking to a Bosmer woman on Jerric's left. "We make it from the silvergrass seeds," the Bosmer was saying. She pointed to something else on Kjestrid's plate. "And that's a type of shelf mushroom, and this here is made from elder-cep stems. These are wild onions we gather out on the plain. And of course this is just sliced steak."

Jerric forked up another bite of the chewy blue stuff. He checked under the flatbread and moved the scoop of mushy green goop. No steak. But the blue stuff was excellent.

When he looked up from his second plate of food, he saw that Nereli was deeply engaged in a conversation with some not-quite-Dunmer. Shamir-do was talking to a human with an Altmer's golden complexion. Those who seemed to have finished their meals were passing a pipe around.

"Fill your cup?" It was the Bosmer who had been talking to Kjestrid.

Jerric held it out. "Thanks. I'm Jerric."

"I know. My name is Raywen." She had blue eyes, dark hair, and dimples.

"Pleased to meet you."

Raywen sat on the floor across from him and placed her pitcher on the low table. She tilted her head in an expectant manner.

"Uh, everyone's asking for news from, uh, home," said Jerric. "Anything you want to know?"

"I don't live there anymore, and we have our own concerns. It's nice just to speak some Tamrielic." She slid a bare foot along Jerric's calf. "And get to know some new people."

A burst of laughter came from Shamir-do's direction. The big cat rose without bracing himself for balance. Two of his companions stood up with him.

"Go ahead," Kjestrid told Shamir-do, grinning. "I'll watch him tonight."

"Watch me do what?" Jerric said to Kjestrid. "I won't be milking any guars, if that's what you're hoping."

"Well you don't need my permission if you do," said Kjestrid. "But let's at least stay in the same tower."

Some time after Shamir-do's departure, folk began saying their farewells.

Nereli came over and sat down on the floor, leaning against Kjestrid. "I told them how our homeland fares," she said. "They like me now."

"Did you meet any of your ancestors?" asked Jerric. He was a little serious.

"Not that I know of, but some of them did complain to me about their descendants. I think I'm starting to figure things out here."

Raywen drew Jerric's attention back to her. "Is there anything you'd like to ask me?"

He looked at her for a long moment. There were a lot of things he'd like to ask, starting with if she would please take off her dress. But if he was ever going to sleep with a Bosmer, it wasn't going to be tonight.

"Where are all the kids?" he said. "If it's not rude to ask, you're still a mortal, right? And so are some of these others. This is our second village, and we've not seen any youngsters."

"It is rude, but you're an outsider so I'm not bothered." She pushed herself to her feet. "Actually I'm not in the mood to explain it. But if you'd like to not talk any more, come find me." She waved to Joman-enle, picked up her cup and pitcher, and strolled out the doorway.

Their plates were gone along with the dining clutter. Aman-enle moved about, tidying up. "The necessary is on the ground level," they said. "You'll find a wash house near the well. If you don't mind, bring up a bucket of water on your way back. There's a stack by the door."

"Will do," said Jerric.

"You could be humping Raywen right now," Nereli told him. "She sure wanted to get her legs around you."

"Not me in particular, just somebody she hasn't taken for a ride before."

Kjestrid tilted her head, listening. "She won't be disappointed. Sounds like she found Shamir-do. Can you two hold your piss for a while? I don't want us to go down to the ground without him. We've had enough trouble on this shortcut. Let's not split up any more than we already are."

"We have another set of buckets," Aman-enle volunteered. "The night buckets. Just don't get them confused with the water ones."

"Ha!" said Jerric. "See, there is a night." Rather than unpack his bedroll, Jerric folded up his cloak for a pillow. He placed weapons at hand in his usual manner, though he did not feel any kind of threat from these bunny-hunting mushroom farmers. A breeze trickled in through the openings in the walls, carrying that sweet scent that was almost like honeysuckle.

"What do you do when it rains?" he called to Aman-enle. Their hosts had retired behind a tapestry.

"Usually nothing. Never before have the rains bothered us, but lately we must hang our rugs to dry."

Joman-enle spoke. "Never before have we seen shadowcats on the plain, either, but we have now. And the winged twilights report figment sightings. The unrest from Mundus affects even Our Lady's realm."

"Does anyone else feel like their brain is baked?" said Nereli. Her head was near Jerric's shoulder.

"Yeah," said Kjestrid. "Between the smoke and the drink, I'll have plenty of dreams tonight."

"If we're lucky, I won't dream," said Jerric. He turned to Nereli. "Are you going to charge them for their cat ride?"

Nereli snorted. "I don't even know what they use for currency."

"What about you, Nereli?" said Jerric. "Still time to find some local and knock the dust off your kitten."

"Not interested."

"You may meet some of these folk when you come back after, you know. Dead."

"I know, I mean I just don't feel that way about people. I'll do it if I have to. To get along. But it's just…" she shrugged. "Messy. Awkward. I don't see the point."

"I think you've been doing it wrong," Jerric said.

Kjestrid kicked the side of his leg. "It is messy. And you shouldn't have to if you don't want to."

"You don't want to have little elflets?" asked Jerric.

"No," said Nereli. She held up a hand. "And before you start, I don't want your advice and I don't need you to fix me. I'm fine."

"I will never try to convince someone to have children," Jerric said. "They change everything. Your heart leaves your body and walks around outside for the rest of your life. You should want it more than anything, or forget about it and do something else."

"You have children?" Kjestrid asked.

"No. I thought I did once, but it wasn't mine after all. I've seen all that up close, though. Maybe I'll get lucky someday."

Kjestrid had been watching him with a neutral expression. "You mean with your little Breton boss?"

"He's not my boss. And it's not like you've been told." Jerric rubbed the bridge of his nose. "And he's the right size for a Breton. I'm the one who gets to call him little."

Kjestrid said, "For a man with your principles, you do a lot of lying."

"I know, and it doesn't sit well with me. But there are truths that are not mine to tell. And the lie you're thinking of was not my idea, I can assure you."

Kjestrid looked skeptical.

"You don't believe me? You know Carla who works at the brothel next door?"

"Sure," said Kjestrid, then threw her head back laughing. "Of course I don't know Carla who works next door. And I'll wager her name is any other thing than Carla."

"Pretty Breton with dark hair, and she's," Jerric held his hands out to indicate pregnancy, "about out to here when we left."

"Are you jesting?" said Nereli.

"No! How can you not know the people who work in the same block? You must walk past each other a dozen times every week."

"Do you know the people who work on your block?" said Kjestrid.

He could see right away that she regretted asking. "Yeah, I did. But when you misbehave like I do, you learn to gather grace from the neighbors long before you need it."

"That I can believe," said Nereli. She leaned in for gossip. "So, who do you want to get lucky with that's not Raywen?"

"Dozara," Jerric said, grinning. "Do you think I have a chance with her?"

"I wonder how they fly," said Kjestrid. She gave him a speculative look. "I wonder how much they could carry."

"I wonder if they have man twilights," said Jerric, wiggling his brows at her.

Nereli said, "Well she was nice to you, so I'll wager they don't. You know, there are tales of winged twilights who fall in love with mortals and carry them away."

"There are tales about everything that falls in love with mortals and carries them away," said Jerric. "I used to think a sea siren would get me."

"Wishful thinking," said Kjestrid. She was looking at him strangely.

Jerric checked behind him, but no one else was there. "What's on your mind, Kjestrid?"

"Have you ever met a Woad-singer?" she asked.

"No. I thought that was a legend."

"It's not," she said.

They spent a moment looking at each other.

"I'm not great at guessing, but I think I got this one right," said Jerric. "Are you a Woad-singer?"

"Yeah," said Kjestrid. "And it's been bothering me since Bruma. Now I know what to do about it." She gestured around her head. "I think it's whatever was in that pipe."

"Kjestrid, I smoked some too. You're going to have to explain what the hells you mean."

"Do you want me to sing your Woad for you? It will always be there if I do. You won't have to call it any more." She gave herself a little shake. "We'll have to start another time. Tonight I can't feel my hands."

"What's the catch?"

"I have to give you a tattoo, and I'll have to think about you more than I'd like. But I've already done the thinking. Also it takes some time, and it's tiring. And you don't get to pick it."

"That sounds like the stories," Jerric said.

"You might not like it," said Kjestrid. "Some people don't."

"I'll take that chance."

"Good," she said, leaning back. "I already got what I need from Aman-enle."

Shamir-do spoke from the doorway. "Get up, lazy ones. Shamir heard we are to stay together. And this one needs to piss."

Shades of Stibbons!

I rather enjoyed this 'evening' among the shroom folk of Moonshadow. Their home reminds me so much of the graht-oaks of Valenwood that I feel like Lili would be at home here. Also magic shrooms! All this talk about shrooms and blue meat is making my mouth water, and I just had breakfast!

And Raywen sort of kind of reminds me of Lili - certainly has a very similar perspective on a certain type of interaction!

I'm still waiting on Freckles, but I trust the little one will make her way back to our intrepid four. Eventually. After she has been There and Back, like the hobbit that started it all. (You can tell I just re-watched Peter Jackson's Tolkien movies [I]again[/I)

What a mysterious and mystical place and people you have created here! I love the banyon tree house (of course) and its inhabitants are fascinating. Oh, and such tantalizing exotic food and drink!

Buffy’s heard, “I’d rather sleep with my horse than a Bosmer,” but I don’t think she’s heard, “I’d rather sleep with a winged twilight than a Bosmer” before.

Whatever a woad is, looks like Jerric’s going to get his sung, along with a tat not of his choosing. Maybe a pink butterfly on his cheek?

Dinner in the tree house is quite the exotic and alien affair that one would expect in a Daedric Realm. At least the kind that does not immediately try to kill you, as we are most familiar with.

It looks like Raywen is looking forward to brush up on an old tongue, and getting to know a new person. Well, looks like Jerric won't be breaking his Bosmer dry spell tonight however.

Definitely don't mix up the night bucket for the water bucket! No one wants to find out they have been drinking Nord lemonade...

Well, the mind-alerting substances have certainly opened up the floodgates of conversation. From kids, to being Ace, to woad singers (whatever that is, but I think we might find out). It sounds intriguing. In the Crowverse fiction I decided that tattooing can be used as a form of rune magic. It allows a rune mage to place a permanent rune on someone in the form of a tattoo, such as to make them invulnerable, or breathe water, or see in the dark, etc... Or place a reusable spell, like to summon an elemental from the tattoo (with the elemental being depicted within the tat of course). I envisioned a Maori superhero who was a rune mage, whose tats were all magical runes like that from which his powers stemmed.

I'm up to chapter 11 but a part of me doesn't want to find out how things go between Jerric and Abiene. You've got me too invested in them being together!

"Jerric wondered if they would reach the city before dark, then shook the notion away. There was no dark."

Was confused about this, but now I get it! I want to drink some star dew, too. Maybe I'd water it down a bit to dull the extreme sweetness! - - Mmm, wait. Moon sugar drink? Mm, maybe not.

Jerric has a pack guar. Joan does too, eventually.

I like how Dozara is visible in the air as they walk, "but not always". This suggests she gets high enough above them, perhaps.

Parasitic vines taking over mushroom trees, yikes. Ah no, Freckles ran away. Not very well disciplined, however maybe the guar remembers there's that lovely patch of vegetation to munch upon, right? Nope. Dang, is Freckles just gone???

No she's not, that's a relief. Up to C19, part 3, I am.


This post has been edited by Renee: May 12 2025, 04:56 PM

Previously: Moonshadow’s Silver Plain. Jerric, Kjestrid, Shamir-do, and Nereli found Freckles at the banyan-vine village Droathra. They dined with the locals and spent the rest period up in a vine-house. Kjestrid decided to give Jerric a magical tattoo.

Rider: Have no fear for young Freckles – she’s the one who found the vine village with their guar herd. Mama Neelo is still out there somewhere, but so are Ma’sani, Dozara, and Renlys. Thank you, Rider!

Acadian: Jerric could win a lot of bets with a pink butterfly tattoo on his cheek! He may want one regardless of what Kjestrid marks him with. Thank you, Acadian!

SubRosa: Nord lemonade! Kjestrid’s Woad-song tattooing sounds similar to the Crowverse’s rune tattoos. She will use her own magic along with Jerric’s Nordic Woad. Much better than the game’s once-per-day-forget-you-have-them abilities, even if he (maybe) doesn’t like how it looks. Thank you, Rosa!

Kane: Thank you, Kane! That means a lot!

Renee: Yep, Freckles is fine and hanging out with the village’s guar herd. I suspect that she ran that way because she smelled them. It’s just now occurred to me that she might have been there before, since she is local pack guar for hire. I’m thinking about making a Star Dew cocktail out of prosecco and white grape juice. It would be very sweet, but I’ll leave out the moon sugar. You’re caught up! Thank you, Renee!

Chapter 19: Moonshadow, Part Four

Morning brought sights that were indistinguishable from the night before. Jerric grabbed an empty water bucket and a full night bucket and made his way down to the facilities. The ladder part would have been tricky but for a pulley system he hadn't noticed before.

Before he climbed back up, he went to check on Freckles at the guar paddock.

"Look who showed up!" one of the guar herders called. "I take it she's yours? Found her outside the fence. Here she is, safe and sound."

It was Neelo, looking unrepentant and drowsy with her head propped on Freckles's back.

"Guars," said Jerric. "How can a walking mouth be so endearing?"

A few trips up and down the vines saw their gear packed and ready. The guar handlers had breakfast skewers on their fire, while Aman-enle and Joman-enle gave them rice-flour pastries filled with chopped nuts and flowers. Both hosts served a cloudy, sour drink with the food. Two breakfasts was a decent start. Jerric felt slightly queasy but very awake.

They had been shown how to keep the banyan village over one shoulder as they looked for the road to Valparai. The trail through the grass was easy enough even for human eyes to follow.

"We're not the first to cut across to the Valparai road," Jerric said. Insects and frogs still sang in the tall grass. It sounded like it had the day before, and all night, or what passed for night. Jerric could not adjust to calling it the rest period.

Nereli walked beside him, leading Freckles. "They said the guar trains follow their road to Strawberry Fields first, but I suppose there are many who go straight to Valparai."

Despite the peaceful walk, Jerric couldn't quiet his mind. What were Lildereth and Darnand doing? Was Abiene safe in Chorrol? Where had new gates opened, and who had gone in to close them? How did Savlian fare in his unofficial rule of Kvatch? What about Ulfe, Flash, and Kip? "This shortcut is taking too long," he said. "Those I care about, back in Cyrodiil. I wonder how they fare."

Kjestrid spoke over her shoulder. "So do we. And I wonder what would have happened if I had just knocked you over the head, dragged you through the snow, and delivered you like a side of beef to those who were expecting you. But I didn't, and here we all are."

They walked for a few moments in silence. "Well I don't blame you for it, Kjestrid," Jerric finally said.

Shamir-do snorted behind them. Kjestrid gave her belly laugh.

Jerric chuckled, glancing over at Nereli.

"No one wonders how I fare," she said. "And I don't wonder about anyone, now that Neelo showed up with my packs." Her tone was matter-of-fact.

"You'll find many who want your help in Cyrodiil," Jerric told her. "If you can stand their company."

"I'm getting used to standing yours."

"You warm my heart, Nereli."

The elf gave an exaggerated shiver. "I'd prefer to warm my bones. Is it just me, or is there a chill this morning?"

"You're asking two Nords and a furball," said Jerric.

It was getting harder to see the path through the waving grass. A look to the rear showed darkening skies, and no line on the horizon. The silver plain simply melted into gray sky. Stars were still visible directly above them.

Shamir-do had wandered off to the side, hunting for springhares with Kjestrid's sling.

"Hey dagger-eyes," Jerric called to him. "Are we on track?"

A gust of wind obscured the Khajiit's reply. He jogged back to them, wrapping the sling around a wrist. Two springhares bounced against his thigh from where they hung at his belt. He took a moment tucking them into a pack.

"This one can see the trail. He would have corrected the Nords if they had strayed." He looked back toward where Droathra must be. "However Khajiit does not like the look of that sky."

"Speed up," said Kjestrid. "No more fooling around with rabbits. Shamir-do, you lead. Nereli, I'll take Freckles."

The big Khajiit set a pace that had the guars loping easily along, wide feet taking their weight with a thump and bounce at each step. It felt good to stretch his legs again, especially with only a day pack to burden him.

As the gray twilight above darkened to a fully overcast sky, the grasslands gave way to sandy soil and rocks interspersed with scrubby pink bushes. If there was a trail here, Jerric couldn't see it.

Nereli was running with a hitch in her stride, but Jerric was not inclined to coddle her. If she needed a rest, she would call for one.

At almost the same moment that Jerric decided it smelled like rain, large cold drops began to fall. The wind picked up, lashing rain into his eyes. Shamir-do slowed and then stopped. He began to pace, looking at the ground.

Kjestrid yelled something The Khajiit yelled back.

"What?" shouted Kjestrid.

"This one said he cannot hear you!"

They formed a huddle, including the guars.

"This one has lost the trail," Shamir-do confessed. "There are too many rocks."

"Can you see the banyans?" Kjestrid asked him. "Are we headed in the right direction?"

Shamir-do shook his head, rain dripping off his whiskers. "Shamir cannot tell."

"We need to find shelter!" said Nereli.

Jerric knew nothing about desert weather, but he knew enough to listen to an Ashlander. "Yeah," he said.

"That way!" Shamir-do pointed. "We will walk."

They trudged through the rocks and brush after Shamir-do, splashing through growing rivulets. As they moved toward lower ground, Jerric saw that what had appeared to be more bushes were actually spiky trees, similar to the magenta ones they had seen in Morrowind.

"We must have reached the Smoketree Desert," Kjestrid called. "They told me about it last night."

"If this is the desert, I'd hate to see their stormlands," said Jerric.

Shamir-do walked bent over, picking out a path through the rocks. "Watch out for springhare burrows!"

Nereli did not comment. Jerric looked over to find her chin down and eyes nearly closed against the wind.

Neelo plodded forward, completely unbothered. She lifted her great head to the sky. Rain poured into her cavernous mouth. Then she clapped her jaws shut, sending ropes of spitty water out between her teeth. Her nostrils were clamped shut, and her eyes protected by a nictitating membrane.

"Guar weather," muttered Jerric. It began to hail.

Shamir-do halted them with a shout. He stood upright, arms stretched out to the sides in warning.

"A drop!" he called over his shoulder.

"We can take shelter under the edge!" said Kjestrid. "We have to get out of this hail!"

The stream bed was Nord-deep and ten guar strides wide. Water flowed down the middle, with rocks poking through the surface.

"Bad idea," said Nereli. "There could be a flash flood."

Jerric regretted leaving his Blades helm in Bruma. He sheltered his face with an arm, keeping a firm grip on Neelo's lead with the other hand. "Shamir-do! Where are we going?"

The big cat shrugged.

"Well, pick a direction! What does your gut say?"

"We cross."

Jerric had no time to wonder how the guars would handle the bank. Nereli grabbed Neelo's halter for support and her lip to get her attention. They clambered down into the stream bed.

The water was half-way to his knees and rising fast. Jerric held on to Neelo's lead and balanced himself against her shoulder. Hail bounced off of her and into his face. A new sound made him look upstream.

"Nereli!" he howled.

The elf leaped at Jerric's outstretched arm. When he pulled her in she gripped him with her knees.

The water hit in a wall, thigh high and muddy. Sticks and unidentifiable things swirled in the roiling current. Rocks rolled over his feet and banged his shins.

Nereli scrambled over his back and onto Neelo, clinging to the packs. "Go!" she yelled.

Kjestrid and Shamir-do were downstream, holding on to Freckles. When Jerric lifted a foot, the water shoved him hard against Neelo. One step at a time they made it past the half-way point.

Nereli made a panicked shout.

Something big was floating down the stream. Jerric didn't look again, he just smacked Neelo's flank and lunged for the far bank. The thing clipped his leg as Neelo hauled him up. He found himself at the top face-down in the mud, having been dragged over the edge on his belly.

Kjestrid stood over him, yelling. Bright light flashed across the sky, followed by a bone-shaking rumble.

Thunder? What was next? A Gate to the Deadlands?

Nereli was at his side now, pulling on an arm.

"Need a minute," Jerric hollered. Pain claimed his full attention. His knee buckled when he tried to stand. "Got to sort this damned leg out!"

The boot wasn't damaged and there were no bones poking out. That must just be water soaking his sock. He took his time healing it, mindful of the walk ahead. A poorly healed joint could be as bad as the original injury.

Shamir-do appeared, gesturing wildly. He had found a place to shelter.

It wasn't a cave, but some boulders overhung enough to keep most of the rain and hail off. They coaxed Freckles and Neelo to stand with their heads under the ledge.

Nereli's hair stuck to her face like ribbons going straight across. She peeled them off with a spitting noise. "I'll never say guar-hugger as an insult again."

"I'm thirsty," said Jerric. "Do you think we'll find any water?"

Shamir-do raised an arm and bumped it against Jerric's.

"In all seriousness," said Kjestrid, "Now I really need to pee."

Despite the hail, it never got cold enough to be more than mildly uncomfortable. The storm passed as suddenly as it had begun. As they stood to shake out their cloaks, stars appeared in the pinkening sky.

"We need to dry off and there's no sun," Kjestrid said. "Everything here is too wet to burn."

Jerric was already unloading Neelo's packs. "Rain won't hurt a guar's hide, but I want to check the harnesses. Might be grit or some such pushed under there. Ha! We didn't lose a thing! This Nord knows how to secure a load."

"Khajiit will scout."

By the time they were ready to move on, Shamir-do had returned.

"A village," he said. "This one did not approach."

"Let's assume they won't try to kill us," said Nereli.

"You're sounding downright cheerful," Jerric told her. "I guess it's because you finally got your legs around me."

"If they do kill us," she said, "at least my soul won't have to go far."

Jerric ruffled her wet hair. She actually smiled back at him.

"How long?" Kjestrid asked.

"Thirty minutes. There is a bridge over every gorge, and a road that way. Had we not crossed, we would have missed it."

"Lucky," said Jerric.

"We're in a daedric realm," Kjestrid reminded him. "There's no such thing as luck."

They walked to the road and then on across the bridges, a light breeze barely stirring their soaked hair. The desert plants here grew almost in thickets, as if cultivated. Low walls of stacked stone appeared around individual gardens of the size that would support a household.

A larger wall greeted them as they entered the village. It looked merely decorative, with the stones arranged in pleasing patterns. They passed half-dome structures that must be houses. Colorful murals adorned them, and bits of bright glass had been pressed into the adobe walls to make swirling patterns.

A handful of folk were visible, hurrying toward what must be the middle of town. Voices were raised there, but not quite shouting.

Jerric looked between Nereli and Shamir-do. "Let's go meet your new neighbors."

Jerric asks the age old question. How can a mouth with feet look so cute and adorable?

Strawberry Fields? I believe some fellas named John, Paul, George, and Ringo had something to say about that place.

A sudden rainstorm? A need to take shelter? Oh boy, so many horror (and comedy) stories start this way. Will they find an undying cannibal? A trapdoor that drops them down to Goblin-Town? A transsexual from Transylvania? A Satanic mechanic? I can't wait to see.

I second the warning about a flash flood. One odd bit of trivia I still remember is that the leading cause of death in the Sahara is drowning. It is because people take shelter from the sun in wadis (dried up riverbeds). But when it does occasionally rain, the water swells the wadis and turns them into regular rivers. It happens very quickly, in the form of flash floods. If you are caught in a wadi when it happens, there is no escape.

And Kjestrid reminds us that when you gotta go, you gotta go...

Well, nothing untoward happened in the shelter. But we do have a new village with unknown dangers (or perhaps musical numbers) to navigate.

Welp, this caught my eye:

A certain Redguard will wholedheartedly agree!

Whoo, flash flood in the desert! My first thought upon encountering that wadi was "DO NOT CROSS!" for the exact same reason SubRosa just quoted, and as our intrepid team just found out. Thank the Daedra for the walking mouths - they were exactly what the others needed to get out of that flash flood!

And now another village, and the age old question - friendly? hostile? neutral?

’Morning brought sights that were indistinguishable from the night before.’
- - Nice nod to the nature of Azura’s Moonshadow.

I chuckled over an elf asking two Nords and a furball if it was cold.

It has been a long trip and I’m not surprised Jerric finds his mind wandering to how those he cares about are faring.

'The stream bed was Nord-deep and ten guar strides wide.'
- - A perfect description of the stream bed’s size!

Yikes, a storm! Replete with thunder and hail. And flash flooding! Whew, survived that one and even found a somewhat safe place to shelter under a rock overhang.

Another village. Let’s hope this one is as friendly as the banyon clan.