Jerric's Story, A Nord's Adventures in Cyrodiil Options

[Renee]

Wow neat, so Darnand and Jerric can communicate from a distance too. Where is Darnand? I know he's in jail, but which province?

That Sigil Stone raid is pretty intense!

[ghastley]

Let me see if I've followed all this.

Darnand re-closed the gate he opened, so he popped back out near Bruma. I assume he is in jail for the re-opening, and suspicion of Mythic Dawn membership, although it could just be for the "distraction" with the scamps.

The other gate was near Blacklight, which is a loooong way away in mainland Morrowind, over the border from Windhelm. Presumably the distance is less through the Deadlands, as there's no need for the gate locations to "match" anything. If anyone points this out to Darnand, he could become the inventor of dangerous shortcuts .

I assume Jerric and Co. are suspects, because they weren't part of the crew that went into the Blacklight gate, and so could be the cultists that opened it. Jerric naturally assumes he's guilty of something, because he usually is.

[SubRosa]

Ninja Lil comes through with the boys in prison, as expected.

I am reminded of a comic book pile of villains on top of a superhero as Jerric and company gather their wits back on Nirn. Except of course Jerric does not hurl them off in an explosion of superheroic might!

Mountains to one side and ocean to the other. Uh oh, they are not in Bruma anymore. Sounds like Morrowind.

I love Gjaever’s enchanted tattoos.

And a lovely Dunmer welcome. It will be interesting to see how things shake out in Blacklight. At least they are not too far from Bruma, as things go.

I loved how Jerric's errant thoughts of Abbie slipped through the mental communication. Good thing he's a manly man, and put the damper on that!

[Grits]

Previously: Jerric landed in Morrowind. Darnand made his way to Cloud Ruler Temple.


Darkness Eternal: Thank you, DE! This departure from the game has been fun to write. I’m glad you enjoyed it.

Acadian: McBadgere’s writing continues to inspire me. The other day out of the blue I remembered how one of his characters tricked their captors into letting him out of the carriage so he could open a gate and free some neglected animals (horses?). This was very much a Lil and Kjestrid episode for me, so I was delighted to see that you mentioned both of them. Thank you, Acadian!

Renee: Thank you, Renee! Darnand is in Bruma. He had not been to Cloud Ruler Temple before the last section. Darnand and Jerric can communicate over distances using a conjuration spell. Similarly Darnand and Abiene can communicate using the crystal ball that he gave her for Saturalia, but it’s not as reliable.

ghastley: You are correct on all counts, and you have anticipated Darnand’s next idea. I’ve changed how the Gates work a little from what the game books tell us. In Jerric’s world the initial more complicated ritual makes the connection between specific locations, and the sigil stone opens the portal. That’s how he could use a sigil stone from a different tower to reopen the Maiden Springs Gate. Thank you, ghastley!

SubRosa: When I was writing the scene Jerric surprised me with the intrusive Abiene thought. He is good at compartmentalizing things, but as soon as he and Darnand were confirmed to both still be among the living, his question popped right back up. The Plan has him thinking that subject over much later in the story. Leave it to the characters to screw up The Plan. Thank you, SubRosa!


Next: After five and a half years, we have reached a new chapter!!

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Chapter 18: The Path of Dawn, Part One

“Is that a bug?” Kjestrid poked at her breakfast.

“Yeah,” said Jerric. “You going to eat it?”

Kjestrid transferred the food to Jerric’s plate using her fork and the barest tip of a finger. Her face looked like she was trying not to make a face.

“It’s an ash hopper leg,” Jerric told her. He crunched through the shell to get at the meat. “I think they mean to honor us with this Dunmer food. Must have come a long way in a wagon. This isn’t ash country.” The meat was fibrous but tender, like well-steamed crab. Kjestrid didn’t look like she would welcome more discussion on the subject, so Jerric kept that observation to himself.

Shamir-do scraped some of his food onto Kjestrid’s plate. “Here, this one cannot finish his kwama egg. Khajiit went too deep into the sujamma last night.”

“Thanks.” Kjestrid shoveled in a few forkfuls. “These are funny eggs. What kind of bird is a kwama?”

Jerric mimed antenna by wiggling his fingers. “They’re a kind of big, uh…”

“Bug,” Shamir-do finished.

Kjestrid put down her fork and carefully swallowed. Then she gave her plate a small shove.

Nereli joined them at the table. “We’re ordered to leave in an hour. Will you be ready?”

“Do we have a choice?” asked Kjestrid.

Nereli lifted a shoulder. “If you give Captain Brenos the sigil stone, she might let you go. You’re not in custody.”

Shamir-do’s ears had flattened when the Dunmer sat down. “This one is not in custody, but also not free to go. Is this how the Dunmer give up their slaves?”

“We don’t own any slaves,” Nereli explained, as if to a child. “No one in this village did, and my family never has.” She reached for the kahve pitcher. “We’re too poor.”

Shamir-do’s tail lashed the air as he lifted from his seat.

Gjaever’s chair made a loud scrape along the floor. He strode to the door without comment. Shamir-do followed, hissing.

Nereli glanced between Jerric and Kjestrid. “What?”

“Was there anything else?” Kjestrid asked her.

“I’m coming with you to Blacklight,” said Nereli. “There’s nothing left for me here.”

Jerric looked at her. No conversation topic came to mind.

“You’re leaving Mattapi,” Kjestrid said. It wasn’t a question, but it was better than the silence.

Nereli nodded at the door. “Yes. My pack is over there. Last night I traded most of my things for the supplies I gave you. And a handful of coins. Not much to show for all my years in this place.”

Jerric had assumed that the few items had been donated by villagers. “Uh, thanks.”

“I owe you my life,” said Nereli.

Jerric filled Kjestrid’s kahve mug. While she gave it a suspicious glare, he emptied the pitcher into his own. “It’s not good, but at least it’s from real beans,” he said to Kjestrid.

Nereli warmed to that subject. “Sorry about the food. It’s all from tins in the back of the pantry. Raufin would have cooked a Nord breakfast for you. Too bad she died.”

“In the Gate?” asked Jerric.

Nereli nodded.

“I’m sorry about your friends,” Jerric said. “Those that stayed here don’t seem happy that you made it back.”

“That’s why I’m leaving. Every house reminds me of someone I left behind in the Deadlands. Every face I see tells me that they’re thinking of loved ones whose bones will never rest with their ancestors. Surviving wasn’t a victory for me. It’s a shame I’ll never erase, or ever forget even for a minute as long as I live here.”

Nereli’s losses were too close to his own. Jerric shared a glance with Kjestrid. She made a little grimace. Jerric answered with a slight lift of brows. Elves.

“What will you do in Blacklight?” Jerric asked.

“I’ll find work at a corner club. Or maybe the Fighters Guild will take me.”

“You can shoot,” said Kjestrid.

Nereli took a sip of her kahve.

“Do you know anything about these councilors we’re supposed to talk to?” Jerric asked.

“I don’t know any of them personally, but I know of them. There will be a hearing. You’re not on trial.”

As uneasy as Jerric felt, he wondered if Shamir-do had just made a run for the hills.

“I’m going to take a dump,” Jerric announced. He picked up his kahve and headed for the door.

***

“He described a suspended cage without door or lock,” said Darnand. “No mechanism was apparent nearby, and Goneld was unable to explain how to open it.”

Lord Martin steepled his fingers. “I suspect the cage was a lesser daedra, controlled by a spell.”

“Do you suppose the spell is a general command or specific to each cage-entity?”

Martin acknowledged Darnand’s unspoken reasoning with a nod. “It is likely that Jerric will find others imprisoned in such cages, or even become trapped in one himself. This is a worthwhile use of your time. You have my leave to pursue it. All of the Temple’s resources are available to you.” He waved a hand toward the library.

“Where else are documents kept?” asked Darnand. “Are there perhaps private collections?” Though this mountain fortress seemed an unlikely place to store the Empire’s secrets, it was an ideal location for the odd Knight Brother or Sister to pursue individual interests. These Blades couldn’t spend all of their time bashing each other and shoveling snow.

“Possibly. I shall inquire.” Lord Martin looked to Jauffre, but the Grandmaster seemed lost in his own thoughts.

Delaine approached their table. “I beg pardon, Your Grace.”

“Yes, Delaine?”

He spoke to Darnand. “She’s back.”

“What is she doing?” asked Jauffre.

“Sitting on her horse in the middle of the road. It’s snowing.”

Jauffre gave Darnand a hard look.

“I shall go to her immediately,” said Darnand. He addressed the Grandmaster. “Though you still harbor suspicion, she has my trust, my respect, and my gratitude. How shall I return?”

“Captain Steffan will accompany you,” said Jauffre.

That made Darnand pause. “You do not intend another attempt to capture her.”

“Nor to invite her into the Temple,” Jauffre confirmed. “Captain Steffan merely wishes a word.” He jerked his head at Delaine. The teenager strode off with apparent purpose.

Darnand made his way to the civilian quarters under the temple. Here he had been given a chamber with a host family. As far as he could tell, the resident Blades spent some nights in their ground-level barracks and some in the underground apartments. Perhaps it had to do with the type of duty they had been assigned.

His borrowed quarters were silent and dark. Darnand flicked a ball of light from his fingers, in too much of a hurry to fumble with the glowstones. He snatched his worn cloak from its hook and quickened his pace back through the stone corridors. Martin’s work table in the Great Hall was far enough from the fire that he had already dressed in his warmest robe and leggings.

Captain Steffan made an imposing figure standing on the ramparts. He wore Blades armor and the usual Akaviri katana at his hip. While his black brows and olive complexion identified him as Nibenese, grey eyes and almost Nordic stature indicated mixed heritage.

It was wise of Captain Steffan to approach Lildereth at Darnand’s side. Otherwise he may receive an arrow. Darnand folded his hands in a magister’s greeting, uncertain what protocol required.

Captain Steffan extended his arm for a warrior’s clasp. “Penoit. A belated welcome to Cloud Ruler Temple.”

“Thank you, Captain.”

“Ready to go for a walk?” The Imperial sounded good-natured. Despite the light snowfall, he wore no cloak.

“Yes.”

Captain Steffan took charge of the conversation. “Take a look at this stonework.” He patted the wall as they descended to the front gates. “That’s some real craftsmanship, that is.”

“Is that local granite?” Darnand had noted the different types of stone used for paving, structural, and decorative work within the temple buildings and compared it with Bruma’s building materials and the outcrops they had passed without consciously thinking about it until Steffan raised the subject.

“Aye. We’ve found the quarries.”

Darnand learned about Akaviri construction methodology as they walked until they saw a figure on the road.

Lildereth dismounted at their approach. Darnand glanced back to find a reference point for where they had become visible, but of course the Temple had already disappeared. Arcane mist hung over the woods behind them, obscuring the hills. Mountains were distant shadows through the snow.

Darnand saw the moment Lildereth realized that he bore good news. He decided to get the Blades business finished first. “This is Captain Steffan, commander of Cloud Ruler Temple,” he said.

Lildereth gave the captain a polite nod, but did not extend her hand.

“You’ve led us on quite the chase, Lildereth,” Steffan said, his tone mild.

“You don’t have to chase me. You could just invite me in.”

“We don't even have a record of anyone getting as close as you have,” Steffan said. “Tell me, how did you disguise your tracks so convincingly?”

“I was mounted on an elk.”

Steffan pointed to Darnand, chuckling. “You're my witness. Pelegius owes me ten Septims.”

Darnand fought for patience. “Captain…”

“All right, to the point. Lildereth, your guilds hold you in esteem. By all counts you are a responsible citizen of the Empire. How is this possible? Lildereth of Athay died in the Five Year War.”

Lildereth lifted her chin. “I didn’t.”

Captain Steffan waited.

Lildereth remained silent.

“I have work to do,” Darnand said to the captain. “If you are not going to welcome her or arrest her, would you please excuse us?”

Steffan walked a few steps away, but remained within hearing distance.

Lildereth caught Darnand’s hands as he reached for hers. “Tell me,” she said.

“He is well and in Morrowind. All of the Fighters Guild group survived the Gate. I await further news.”

“We are scattered to the winds,” Lildereth murmured. She began removing packs from Rose.

Darnand got to work at her side. “How does he accumulate so much… stuff?” They made a pile of Jerric’s belongings in the snow. Darnand glanced at Captain Steffan’s back, wishing to instead see a pack mule.

Lildereth handed him a bundle of mail, tied neatly in her way. “There’s a letter for Jerric,” she said.

Darnand didn’t need to think about what that meant if she mentioned it. “What does it read?”

“Some kind of code. His Auntie shares news.”

“Thank you for sparing me the decision to open it. I shall inform him as soon as I return.” He illustrated with an absent head gesture in the direction of Cloud Ruler Temple.

Lildereth regarded him for a moment. “If you can reach him now, he may have some action I may take on his behalf. Since you’re occupied up there in the fog.”

“As ever, yours is the better plan. Lildereth…”

The elf gave him a slanted brow.

“I am grateful that you are with me. I might even say that I am pleased.”

“I’m out here in the snow, Breton. If I was with you, I’d spend less time drying my socks and listening to wolves.”

Darnand placed a palm on Rose’s neck to steady himself against the spell’s disorienting effect. ‘Jerric?’

The Nord’s presence filled his mind like afternoon sunlight. ‘Breton. You just saved me from doing murder. I’m about to strangle some of these elves.’

Darnand paid close attention to his magicka. The spell consumed it at the same rate across provinces as it did within the Anvil Mages Guild Hall. Perhaps it would be possible to communicate between realms, if they could manage to connect.

‘All this waiting is wearing us down,’ Jerric continued. ‘We have gear to replace and we’re running up a tab here, but they won’t give us leave to work yet. Shamir-do is as nervous as a puffling in a needle factory. Kjestrid’s so picky about her food you’d think she was a countess, and Gjaever makes me look like a child when we spar. I can’t break his guard.’

A conversation with Jerric was its own journey. Darnand settled in to follow whatever path the Nord’s mind took.

By the time they finished, Darnand’s eyes were burning. Concentrating must make him forget to blink. A high-ceilinged chamber of dark stone lingered in his mind’s eye like a ghost. Did Jerric now see a shadow-vision of snowy woods?

“What’s it like?” Lildereth interrupted his musing.

Her expression clarified the question. “It is intimate and uncomfortable,” Darnand said. “When we speak I can almost… You recall that morning after you joined us on the Kvatch plateau?”

Lildereth smiled. “Yes.”

“I can almost smell his hair. I confess this type of communication ill suits me.” Darnand gave himself a mental shake. “He is in Blacklight, his return to Cyrodiil uncertain. There is a delay with Redoran authorities. He does not require assistance. The code is an instruction to meet Baurus in the Imperial City. The book we have been seeking is found. He believes that Baurus has met with some difficulty, as the Auntie’s message was meant to come from Grandmaster Jauffre. I shall proceed immediately on Jerric’s behalf, with or without the Grandmaster’s approval. Will you accompany me?”

“How could I miss the culmination of your great book hunt?” Lildereth’s laugh was like a warm breeze. “You’d better get approval. I can’t break you out of a dungeon I can’t find.”

“Let us leave Kip and Flash with the Blades. I shall — ”

“I’ll meet you on the road,” Lildereth clasped his hand in hers. “Let’s leave today. Bring Ulfe. You should tell Abiene. We’re the closest thing to family that he has.”

There would be time on the road to consider her meaning. Darnand tucked the mail into a pocket and cast the spell that would allow him to carry a Nord’s baggage up the mountain without humiliating himself in the presence of a Blades officer.

.

This post has been edited by Grits: Mar 7 2019, 05:28 PM

[ghastley]

Lildereth of Athay died in the Five Year War.”

Lildereth lifted her chin. “I didn’t.”

I never did figure out whether she was glad she got out first, or regrets leaving the others. Is this about to get resolved, or does it come up again in five year's time?

[Acadian]

Nice to see Cloud Ruler Temple, Martin and Steffan.

Lil’s as mysterious as ever, of course.

The long distance telepathic conversations between Darnand and Jerric are both fascinating and funny – the odd couple forced into periods of mind-sharing.

[SubRosa]

So I take it the last chapter was part of the 5 Year Plan?

The Plan makes me think of this Harry Potter quote "when have any of our plans ever actually worked? We plan, we get there, all hell breaks loose."

Bugs for breakfast. Ugh. Even the super-mutants in the fallout games rank bugs as the worst food. Worse than ghouls.

Well, at least Kjestrid is in no danger of losing her figure while in Morrowind...

Looks like Nireli will be sticking around the story for a while longer. I wonder if she will be joining the Scooby Gang? She no longer has anything to tie her down, or to live for really.

Brilliant of Lil to use the local wildlife to disguise her passage!

It appears the news of Lil's death was greatly exaggerated...

Hah! The game is afoot! Time to meet up with Baurus and go hunt some Mythic Dawnies!

[haute ecole rider]

I've finally caught up!

Your description of the last Gate, and the FG's encounter with Nereli left echoes of "Huzzah!" echoing in my mind. Whew! Just a memory . . .

Then back to CRT and ah ha! Captain Stefan! The most underrated NPC in the whole game. I see that you put your own twist to him, and yet he shares the same heritage as my Stefan Arngrimsson . . .

Five years to write a chapter . . . Hmmm, I have a story waiting fifteen years for its finale . . .

So glad to see you continuing this, I'm still enjoying everything you put down to text!

[Grits]

Previously: With Jerric delayed in Blacklight, Darnand and Lildereth decided to follow the Path of Dawn.


ghastley: She’ll need at least five more to figure that one out. Better make them elf years. Thank you, ghastley!

Acadian: Thank you, Acadian! Poor Darnand. He has to share way too much with Jerric.

SubRosa: Lildereth had an elk mount in her online game (until I gave away my PS4). I had to work that in somehow. Just as I was thinking that Kjestrid might be getting a little too badass in the Gate, she surprised me by being a big baby about her food. She might have trouble maintaining her corn fed stature on an elf diet. Thank you, SubRosa!

haute ecole rider: Maybe it’s because you meet him in the snow, but I could only think of Steffan as a Nord for the longest time. In my mind he looks like a RL acquaintance who has Columbian and Scandinavian heritage. Dark hair, brown skin, and crystal clear blue-grey eyes. He is so beautiful it’s hard to concentrate when he’s talking. Also he is a dentist, so his teeth can blind you. Thank you, haute!


Next: Let’s find a fancy Bosmer.

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Chapter 18: The Path of Dawn, Part Two

Darnand let the door slam shut behind him. Mid-day sun glared off the Market District’s white stone buildings. He stomped around the corner to the Merchants Inn.

Lildereth stepped outside just as he reached for the door. She had changed into a gown and left her bow with their packs. Her hair fell loose over her shoulders.

“We have missed him by a half day,” Darnand said before she could ask. “Gwinas already bought the third volume. Godsdammit!”

“What did Phintias say?” Lildereth linked her arm through his and drew him a few steps down the street.

“He offered a number of insults, then confessed that the book was out of his hands. I got a description. Gwinas is a blond Bosmer with his hair in what Phintias described as an elf-knot. He is wearing red silk robes trimmed with gold. I suspect that wherever he is, he is studying his latest acquisition.”

“We might catch him,” said Lildereth. “If he’s come from Valenwood he may have more business in the city, and as you say, a collector will want to gloat over his prize. He’s probably rich. You check the Tiber Septim Hotel, and I’ll check the Elven Gardens inns.” She pressed the Ring of Khajiiti into his palm. “This will make you faster and less likely to attract attention while you’re running. Cut straight across to get to Talos Plaza. Look, use the tower as a guide. Check the Arboretum if he’s not at the hotel. A Bosmer may like to read under the trees, no matter what Imperial getup he’s wearing. I’ll meet you in our room in a few hours.”

“What about—”

“I will chase him all the way to Valenwood if I must, but for now let’s just each look for him. I doubt his gold-trimmed robes are for traveling. ‘Husband.’” Lildereth’s kiss on his mouth reminded him that they had roles to play. Then she gave him a little shove, her pointy fingers hidden in a fold of his cloak.

This time of day glancing up at the White-Gold Tower meant looking nearly straight into the sun. After a few dignified strides in case unfriendly eyes were watching, Darnand took off at a run. The Ring of Khajiiti felt heavy on his finger.

Since it was still an appropriate time for the midday meal, Darnand checked the hotel first. A red-robed Bosmer sat alone at a dining table in the center of the Tiber Septim Hotel’s lobby, swinging his feet and sipping from a silver goblet. The plate in front of him held the remains of a meal. He clutched a loosely wrapped book-shaped package to his chest with one arm. Gwinas.

Darnand moved to a pillar and simply stood there, counting on the Ring of Khajiiti to make him look as if he belonged. He did not want a scene in front of witnesses. When Gwinas rose and walked out the main door, Darnand followed.

As Lildereth predicted, the Bosmer entered the Arboretum and started toward an empty bench. Darnand began to close the distance, intending to sit beside him.

Gwinas turned on his heel and frowned at Darnand. “Have you been following me?”

“Pardon me,” Darnand said, leaving a polite space between them. “I could not help but notice your book.”

“Leave me alone!” Gwinas cried. He twisted his body to the side, protecting his prize. “This book is mine!”

That escalated quickly. Darnand made a placating gesture. “So I see. Perhaps you mistake my intention. I want to buy it from you.”

“It isn’t for sale. You’ll have to find a copy somewhere else.”

“No. I have waited too long for this one. I must insist.”

“I won’t be bullied!” Gwinas shrilled. “I’m not some pathetic bookworm you can just push around! I have friends, you know!”

Bullied? Perhaps that would be more effective than reason. Darnand made his best judgmental scowl. “Friends… In the Mythic Dawn?”

“I never said anything about the Mythic Dawn.” Gwinas put his small chin in the air, looking down his nose at approximately Darnand’s mid-chest. “In fact, I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

“Do not play the fool with me,” Darnand growled, leaning in.

“V-very well.” Gwinas gulped. He raised up on his toes and continued. “I can see you’re familiar with Mankar Camoran’s Commentaries. I know that daedric cults are not quite the thing socially, but that’s just foolish prejudice and superstition. For the adventurous, open-minded thinker daedric worship holds many rewards.”

“You are out of your depth, Gwinas.” Curse it. That sounded like a height reference.

“I beg your pardon?” Gwinas sputtered. “I’ll have you know that I’ve visited the Shrine of Sheogorath during the Festival of the Mad! I’ve spoken with Hermaeus Mora beneath the full moons! I’ve—”

“‘I have sipped brandy at Sanguine’s pleasure pavilions,’” Darnand sing-songed in the elf’s higher pitch. “‘I have sprinkled glow dust upon the Shrine of Azura!’” He thrust his hand out in a fist. “Do you recognize this?”

“The Ring of Khajiiti,” Gwinas breathed.

“Then you know that I have personally petitioned a Daedric Prince and received Her favor.”

Gwinas’s eyes were round as a human’s. He reached out a tentative finger. “May I… touch it?”

Darnand extended the ring, then snatched it back at the last moment, earning a gasp from the quivering elf. “I should not risk my Lady’s wrath,” he intoned.

Gwinas tucked his hands into the sleeves of his robe, arms still wrapped around the book.

“Gwinas,” Darnand said, “It is true that I was following you. These cultists are no dilettantes dabbling in titillation and welcoming tourists to their shrine. This is a cult of Mehrunes Dagon, committed to bringing about the end of our way of life. They are the ones who murdered our Lord Uriel and all of his heirs. Even now they search for every last innocent who bears a drop of Septim blood. And you would claim them as friends? Once you call upon their evil, do you suppose they will allow you to go on your way?”

“What?! The Mythic Dawn were the ones..? You have to believe me. I truly had no idea. I mean, I knew they were a daedric cult. Mankar Camoran’s views on Mehrunes Dagon are fascinating, revolutionary even. But to murder the Emperor… Mara preserve us!” Gwinas had turned pale as a Nord.

“You had better give me that book.”

“Yes. Of course! I don’t want anyone to think I had anything to do with their insane plots! Here. Volume Three is yours. Take the cursed thing. What you do with it is your business. Auri-El and Stendarr, I wish I’d never heard of this book!” He thrust it at Darnand.

Darnand did not remark upon the elf’s sudden faith in the Divines. “I need the fourth volume as well.”

“You can only get Volume Four directly from a member of the Mythic Dawn. I had set up a meeting with the Sponsor, as he called himself.” Gwinas fumbled in his robe until he produced a folded page. “Here, take the note they gave me. It tells you where to go. I don’t want anything else to do with the Mythic Dawn. Please, won’t you go in my stead? You have… experience in these matters. They don’t ever need to know my face. I mean, you could say you were me.”

“I shall. You are right to fear, Gwinas.” Darnand tucked the note into the book and the book into his shoulder bag. “Will you stay in the city, my friend?”

Gwinas shook his head, eyes bugging out again.

Now he supposes I will not survive it. Perhaps I frightened him too much. “At the least provide a way for me to contact you,” Darnand said. In the event that this turns into a dead end. “As you are something of an expert, I should like to consult you with my findings. Surely your own curiosity—”

“All right!” Gwinas yelped. “I shall remain for one night and no longer. If you do not come to my hotel I’ll assume you are dead!”

“You may feel more comfortable if you change hotels,” Darnand suggested.

“More comfortable than the Tiber Septim? Psht. Oh! You mean I should worry less about being murdered in my sleep. Gaah! I shall never sleep again!”

“Perhaps the All-Saints in the Temple District? It is located near the Talos Plaza Gate. You will not have to move far, and it is close to the Temple of the One.”

“Indeed. As you say.” Gwinas rubbed his palms together then brushed them up and down his arms. He blinked up at Darnand, clicked his heels together, and gave a little bow. “I thank you, my nameless friend. No! I do not wish to know your name. Go with care, and with the blessings of, er, with the blessings of the Nine! And of Your Lady of Infinite Energies! And… and all of the good ones!”

Darnand inclined his head, solemn as one of the park’s marble guardians. As the Bosmer scampered off, he allowed himself to smile.

.

This post has been edited by Grits: Apr 16 2019, 03:59 PM

[Acadian]

What a fun episode – Gwinas was adorable!

‘A red-robed Bosmer sat alone at a dining table in the center of the Tiber Septim Hotel’s lobby, swinging his feet and sipping from a silver goblet.’
‘Gwinas put his small chin in the air, looking down his nose at approximately Darnand’s mid-chest.’
- - I see Gwinas suffers from common Bosmeri complaints of chairs that are too high and Bretons that are too tall!

Brilliantly deft of Darnand to try intimidation when his first effort failed, then to invoke the Daedric ring to emphasize his point. Darnand’s verbal acumen here really contrasts that of his large Nordic friend who would have doubtless tried, “Uh, gimme the book, elf.”

[ghastley]

That was a nice mixture of Beth's dialogue and your own, and the Ring of Khajiiti part was genius!

Now you've got me wondering why Darnand wants to keep Gwinas around, after getting the book. Maybe just in case it's not the book he expects?

[SubRosa]

Lil in a gown, now that is a sight worth seeing!

I can imagine that whatever Phintias said started with his usual sarcastically satirical venemous "Good Day!"

"Its mine, its my precious!" is what I half expected Gwinas to say!

Looks like Darny had no trouble playing bad cop. I loved his big-stuffing with the Ring of the Khajiti!

[Grits]

Previously: Darnand acquired Volume Three from Gwinas. Also, he had a note.


Acadian: Thank you, Acadian! You’re so right, Jerric does not have much variety on his Speechcraft wheel. I have been looking forward to the Gwinas part. He is a favorite.

ghastley: Darnand wants Gwinas in town in case the meeting doesn't work out. Then he could try to find out how he made contact with the Sponsor and set up his own meeting, or turn the information over to the Blades. He is feeling the pressure to get results with Jerric out of the picture. Thank you, ghastley!

SubRosa: Lil in a gown always makes me smile. Phintias is lucky Darnand didn’t leave a scamp in his shop when he stomped out. Good thing he has too much love for all those innocent books. Thank you, SubRosa!


Next: Let’s find out what the Nords are up to in Morrowind.

.

Chapter 18: The Path of Dawn, Part Three

Jerric gazed idly at the towering shelves. They ran the full width of the building in rows too deep for him to see the back from this angle. Each one was packed to the ceiling with books and scrolls. “This library looks like a harpy’s nest,” he said. “How do you find anything?”

“Keep your voice down,” hissed Nereli. “You don’t find anything. You have to ask to look at a book.”

“I don’t want to look at a book,” Kjestrid murmured.

“You need information,” said Nereli. She gestured toward the desk at the front of their line. “That’s where you get it.”

Gjaever appeared to be asleep on his feet. He still wore the shirt he had been given in Mattapi. It still failed to close over any part of his torso.

“We look like a bunch of scholars,” said Jerric. He cut his eyes at Shamir-do.

The Khajiit responded with the squint that denoted amusement.

“I don’t fit in here, either,” Nereli said.

Jerric looked at the other library patrons, then back at Nereli. Her grey cheeks and nose were freckled by the sun, hair cut straight and plain at chin level like Kjestrid’s. She had probably made that faded tunic herself. Their neighbors in line wore robes in a rainbow of jewel tones, all trimmed in metallic braid. Stiffened shoulder pieces in imitation of the Redoran peaked pauldrons seemed to be the fashion. Most of the Dunmer had black hair and red eyes, like Nereli. However the city elves wore their hair sculpted in styles that must need paste to hold them together.

“Nah, you don’t,” said Jerric. “You look like one of us.”

Nereli shot him a look of pure gratitude.

When the group in front of them shuffled off, Kjestrid and Nereli stepped up to do the talking. Jerric assumed his guard posture behind them. Gjaever did the same at his side. Shamir-do stood in the middle. He seemed most comfortable when surrounded by the Nords.

The clerk behind the desk wore dark gloves and protective sleeves over his robe. He flicked his fingers impatiently as Nereli handed over her credentials.

“We need to find the best way to County Bruma, in Cyrodiil,” she told him.

The clerk said something in Dunmeris.

“That’s what we’re asking,” said Nereli. “We need to find the fastest way that we can afford.”

The clerk spoke to a slim youth in a trim-fitting tunic. The lad darted off between the stacks without comment.

“He’s getting something,” Nereli explained over her shoulder.

Jerric kept his eyes on the clerk. There would be time later to jest about these stuffy elves.

When the runner returned, Kjestrid and Nereli put their heads together over the scrolls he had retrieved. The clerk smoothed them out on his work surface and spoke, still in Dunmeris. Nereli’s replies were too soft for Jerric to hear.

After a time, Shamir-do whispered, “Azura.” His cat ears apparently had no problem with Nereli’s reserved tone. When Gjaever grunted agreement, Jerric recalled that the big Nord could understand the clerk’s gibberish.

“Hey!” said Jerric, loud enough to make the runner flinch.

The clerk switched to Tamrielic without apology. “If you use the Gate at the shrine on Azura’s coast to reach the one in Cyrodiil, you will have to travel farther than you would if you simply walked across Tamriel.”

“Where—” Kjestrid started.

“I am not going to discuss the particulars with you,” the Dunmer interrupted.

Nereli spoke up. “Then where do you suggest we go in Morrowind in order to exit through the Gate at the Shrine of Azura outside Cheydinhal?”

“How can it be farther?” Jerric asked over their shoulders. “Is Moonshadow that big?”

The clerk glared at a point above Jerric’s head. “First you travel to Azura’s Coast. Then you travel across Moonshadow.”

Jerric’s hands wanted to measure the clerk’s neck. He scratched his groin to distract them. “So it is that big. You could just say so.”

“I did say so,” the Dunmer snapped. “That is exactly what I said!”

“Where should we go?” Kjestrid asked.

The clerk answered by speaking to Nereli. “There is a small shrine in the hills about a half-day’s walk south of the city, here. They have no stable Gate to Moonshadow, but the priestess may open a portal for you. However first you must gain permission from Azura.”

“Permission to travel,” Kjestrid said as if confirming her understanding.

“Permission to ask,” sniffed the clerk.

“Are you serious?” Jerric said. “Gods blood!”

“How do we summon her?” asked Kjestrid.

“You expose your ignorance, outlander. You cannot summon the Mother of the Rose as if she was some winged twilight for your amusement. The priestess will submit on your behalf during her usual rituals. Then, if your petition is acceptable, the priestess will relay The Lady’s terms. Only upon agreement will she open the portal for you.”

“All right,” said Kjestrid. “How often does she do her rituals?”

The clerk made a dismissive gesture. “We do not keep her schedule here. Next!”

Kjestrid drew the group away before anyone could give in to violence. “Sounds like you were right, Shamir-do. Azura is sheltering her devoted in response to the Oblivion war. This kind of travel is outside the scope of our contract. What do you all think?”

“I will take the Dunmeth Pass to Windhelm and then walk across Skyrim,” said Gjaever. “I would rather shave my beard than step through another cursed portal.” He placed a heavy hand on Jerric’s shoulder. “Good journey, my friend. It was an honor.”

“For me too,” said Jerric. “But no farewells yet. Won’t we see you again as we all prepare for our trips?”

“If he has to speak, he likes to get it all out at once,” Kjestrid said.

“This one will travel with Jerric. Khajiit wants to see what trouble he will cause in Moonshadow.”

“Didn’t have to tell me that, cat,” Jerric grinned. “Besides, how would we get Azura to even talk to us without your sugar-whiskers on our side?”

Shamir-do smoothed his whiskers. “Moon sugar is a ritual and a right. Not a condiment.”

“I for one hope we meet as few daedra as possible.” Kjestrid turned to Gjaever. “We haven’t replaced all of your gear yet. Stay with us a while longer. I’ll see about getting the Redorans to cover our bills. Plus as much extra as I can squeeze out of these bone-wearing knife-ears.” She glanced at Nereli. “That is, out of our noble hosts. Thank you for coming along today, Nereli. That stuffed robe wouldn’t have spoken to us without you.”

Nereli shrugged. “What else do I have to do? Besides, I have a debt to all of you. I wish I was more help at the hearing.”

Jerric gave Kjestrid an encouraging punch on the shoulder. “If anyone can get us paid, it’s you. See you afterward at the Guild Hall. In the meantime I’m going to get a drink and catch up with my Breton.”

“Does he have some gold?” Kjestrid asked as Jerric walked away. “Hey! We’re in a bind for money here! Where did you get the gold?”

Jerric waved a hand as if returning a farewell. Whether by fight or by favor, it should not be difficult to get a drink in any city.

Outside he picked a random direction and strode into the crowd. After a block he noticed Nereli had joined him, trotting the occasional few steps to keep up. As usual she looked like someone had just pissed in her saltrice.

Jerric didn’t slow his pace. “What do you want, Nereli? A fight or an angry hump? I don’t have any tales to amuse you and we already trained this morning.”

Nereli ignored his rudeness. “A drink sounds good. I don’t have any gold either.”

Jerric didn’t speak for another half block. “You pick us a corner club. We’ll figure something out.”

.

This post has been edited by Grits: Mar 26 2019, 08:26 PM

[Acadian]

Snooty Dunmer are perfect for keeping Jerric in good form. And that library certainly had some!

So it looks like most of the crew is going with Jerric to try sweet talking Azura into a lift back to Cyrodiil.

Funny at the end. Jerric and Nereli seem to get on pretty well – broke and needa drink.

[SubRosa]

I liked the contrast between the regular city elf library patrons and Jerric et al. Quite a difference!

Jerric’s hands wanted to measure the clerk’s neck.
This is wonderfully descriptive

she looked like someone had just pissed in her saltrice
this is another great description

I am liking Nereli. She is wonderfully down to Nirn. Such a great contrast to the other city Dunmer.

To the cornerclub we go! Sounds like Loria's way of hiring mercenaries...

I am looking forward to seeing Moonshadow, if indeed it is a trans-dimensional romp in the future. Visiting a Daedric Realm that is not entirely hostile will be a pleasant change.

[ghastley]

If this is true: "If you use the Gate at the shrine on Azura’s coast to reach the one in Cyrodiil, you will have to travel farther than you would if you simply walked across Tamriel.” then why are they considering it?

I seemed like a good idea at the time?

Gjaever is taking the shortcut, apparently.

[Renee]

My favorite quote from the latest chapter...

“All right,” said Kjestrid. “How often does she do her rituals?”

The clerk made a dismissive gesture. “We do not keep her schedule here. Next!”

I hope they don't encounter too many daedra either.

[Grits]

Previously: The Morrowind crew decided to petition Azura for passage through Moonshadow. Gjaever is going to walk home across Skyrim instead.


Acadian: Nereli’s situation is too close to Jerric’s recent losses for comfort, but he can’t turn down a fellow traveler who needs a drink. Thank you, Acadian!

SubRosa: Jerric’s “Main Quest, Mostly” adventure has rather grown in scope. Nereli has been fun to write alongside Jerric. She does not expect kindness or sympathy or for things to work out in her favor. When her life falls apart, she just packs her bag and goes on living. Thank you, SubRosa!

ghastley: I am sorry about the confusion! There were two routes through Moonshadow under consideration. One is through a stable Gate that in this story Azura’s followers have opened at her shrine on Azura’s Coast. This is the shrine you find in the Morrowind game. They are told that would be the long way since the trek through Moonshadow from the Azura’s Coast Gate to another stable Gate that Azura’s followers have opened at her Cheydinhal shrine is longer than they expected. They didn’t know this until the grumpy librarian looked it up for them. (Darnand is going to be upset that they didn’t copy his Moonshadow map.) The way they are pursuing now is through a temporary portal that they hope the local priestess will open for them at a nearby hill Shrine to Azura that is not in any game. Theoretically she could place them closer in Moonshadow to their planned exit through the Cheydinhal Gate with Azura’s cooperation. Jerric feels the time pressure to take a shortcut, and Kjestrid feels the responsibility to finish delivering him to Cloud Ruler Temple (or nearby) as she was tasked in their original Echo Cave patrol. Gjaever is done with this daedric nonsense. Shamir-do wouldn’t mind half-seeing Moonshadow. I hope that clears things up, and I’m sorry about the confusion! Thank you, ghastley!

Renee: These three Nords are a little out of place in a Dunmeri library. Thank you, Renee!


Next: Darnand and Lildereth have taken Jerric’s place following the Path of Dawn in Imperial City. Darnand has acquired Volume Three of the Mythic Dawn Commentaries.

.

Chapter 18: The Path of Dawn, Part Four

The chamber door opened and then closed, admitting a surge of tavern noise from downstairs. Darnand stacked the books and moved his notes to make space.

Lildereth slid their plates onto the table. “Have you figured it out yet?” She placed a bottle of wine next to the water pitcher.

“‘Green Emperor Way where Tower touches.’ I have known the code since I read the first volume. The final book will complete the clue. I should think it will be a celestial reference. ‘Mage’s Hand,’ or the like. No, it will be an event that occurs daily and varies little with the seasons. Perhaps the midday sun.” Darnand poured the wine. “Before I go into the sewers, we should meet with Baurus.”

“You should meet with him,” Lildereth said. “I’m not trusted, remember? We don’t know what the Blades have told him about me. I don’t want to get skewered by a twitchy Redguard if he has some wrong idea.”

Darnand nodded. “I will seek him out at Luther Broad’s Boarding House, though it is likely that he has accommodations elsewhere. That location was compromised.”

“If you show yourself there, then you may be compromised. I can look for the Sponsor in the sewers and try to get that book away from them, but I don’t like my chances sitting out in the open for the meeting.”

“I will not send you down there alone. I suspect that they have precautions in place against just such an infiltration.”

Lildereth pressed a knuckle into her lip. “Instead of openly asking about Baurus, I could give Luther a message for him. Saying that he should look for you somewhere else.”

“I may have been seen with Gwinas, and you are here as my wife. We might both be in danger.” Darnand waved his fork around. “Even now the spiders could be watching us.”

Lildereth laughed. “Now that’s the right level of paranoid. In another minute we’ll have talked ourselves into skipping out on the whole caper.”

“In all seriousness, you may be overheard at Luther Broad’s.”

“I’ll be careful. When I say, ‘Mister Broad, please tell your friend who is in hiding to meet my friend who has the very important thing he needs so they can make their secret plan,’ I’ll whisper.”

Darnand regarded her for a moment.

“I’m jesting. Luther won’t even know he has a message until he checks his pockets. And he doesn’t smell like a man who uses a laundry, so eventually he will find it.”

“Then he will have to reach Baurus. That could take some time.”

“What else can we do now but wait? You’re not going to the meeting without telling him.” Lildereth took his forearm and slid her hands down until she held his between her palms. “Darnand, I can see what you’re thinking. Don’t risk it.”

When Darnand squeezed her hand, she let go. “I will not go alone yet. I shall wait until the day after tomorrow. That gives him two nights and a day to reach me. He may be dead, Lildereth. If he is living, he will come.”

“You said he knows Tar-Meena. Wait there, at the Arcane University. If he doesn’t show then we’ll go to the sewers together.” She opened his bag. “Here, let’s write the note.”

Darnand took the bag from her, giving her a sideways frown. He shoved his plate aside to make room for his pen case, portable ink well, and after a moment of shuffling, a palm-sized scrap of paper.

“Breton, if the note is that small, he’ll never find it.”

Darnand retrieved a blank half-sheet and placed it on the table. He readied his pen. “Will you compose the note, or shall I write it and then discard this page for the note you then dictate to me?”

Lildereth pressed close as was her way and looked over his shoulder. “I’ll save you the paper and tell you what to write.” She assumed a nasal tone, Darnand imagined meant to sound like him. “‘Dear Auntie, I am a mage come in place of your nephew. I await your...’ Hey! All right, I guess that will work. ‘Our friend will know where to find me.’”

Darnand’s pen paused. “You suppose he will know?”

“I suppose he’d better figure it out. I hope that Tar-Meena hasn’t gone on vacation. They say the Hist is calling its folk back to defend the Marsh.”

“Perhaps we should first verify Tar-Meena’s presence at the University.”

Lildereth’s chin poked into his shoulder. “Go ahead and write it. If you find out Tar-Meena isn’t there, we’ll come up with a different plan.”

Darnand finished writing and placed the paper to the side to dry. He cleaned his pen and replaced the items in his bag. “Where will you stay while we wait?” he asked, keeping his eyes on his task. Lildereth would sometimes answer with more detail when she wasn’t being observed.

“I’m sick of this hotel room,” she sighed. “But so far it’s been safe.”

Darnand recalled Brother Venco’s reasoning at their meeting in Weynon Priory. “If somehow we are mistaken and you are already under surveillance, an attack on your person would betray the extent of the enemy’s knowledge.”

Lildereth shot him a green look. “Perhaps I should arrange for an attack on your person.”

“Forgive me,” Darnand said. “I—”

‘DARNAND.’ Jerric’s mental shout made him flinch.

‘I am here. You need not push harder to compensate for the physical distance.’

‘Oh. What’s happening in Cyrodiil?’

‘Lildereth is with me. We have obtained the third book and have means to acquire the final volume. As Luther Broad’s is known to the enemy, we are writing a note so that—’

‘Sounds like the elf’s plan. Forget it, Baurus wants to catch these scamp humpers. Unless he’s in a shallow grave somewhere, he’ll be sitting at the bar with his stick out and a katana on his hip.’

‘You have saved us a needless delay, my friend. If he is there, how do you propose I approach him?’

‘Walk up, sit down, and tell him you have the book. Then do as he says slowly so that he doesn’t cut you. Bring Volume Three to show him.’

‘He has been out of contact for some time, according to Jauffre.’ Darnand said. ‘What if he does not come to Luther Broad’s?’

‘Use Tar-Meena as a contact and do what I would do. How do you get the last book?’

‘Directly from a cult member.’

‘Dammit, I wish I was there. Be careful. I don’t want to find your corpse in the Deadlands.’

‘I shall. What did you wish to tell me?’

‘Oh, right. I’m cutting through Moonshadow to the Azura shrine in County Cheydinhal, if the plan works. But first I have some puckered grey backsides to kiss. Every shortcut causes a delay with these bug munchers.’

“Say hello for me,” said Lildereth.

‘Lildereth says hello.’

‘Hello back at her. How’s my dog?’

Darnand turned to face Lildereth. ‘Can you see her?’

There was a moment of silence, but Jerric’s presence stayed in Darnand’s mind like heat through a shuttered window. ‘No, I can only see the elf. Hey! I can sort of see the elf!’

‘Excellent,’ said Darnand.

‘Ha! Now I’m going to—’

‘Spare yourself the trouble. I have already seen it.’

Lildereth laughed. “You look pained. It’s just like he’s here.”

‘What are you eating?’ Jerric asked. ‘I can tell you’re at a table.’

“Mutton,” Darnand said, both to Jerric and aloud.

“Do you remember the first meal we shared?” Lildereth said.

“Did you hear her?” asked Darnand.

‘It was mutton,’ Jerric said, a laugh in his mental voice. ‘From Flossy the venerated sheep of County Anvil.’

“He remembers Flossy,” Darnand said.

“Maenlorn likes to know who his food comes from.” Lildereth smiled into her goblet.

‘I’d murder for a bite of that mutton. Or a slab of good, Colovian beef.’

“He requests beef at our next meal,” Darnand said.

“I could go get us a fruit pie.”

‘I don’t know if she’s cruel or kind.’

Darnand pressed his fingertips against his temples. “Does your head ache?” he said aloud to Jerric.

‘Yeah. But it’s worth it.’

[Acadian]

Lil really shows her cloak and dagger expertise here. I love the mannerisms that you weave into the small elf. It will be interesting to see if Jerric’s approach works better than Lil's coded message. I’m also looking forward to the possibility of perhaps seeing Baurus. And maybe even Tar-Meena.

Jerric and Darnand are refining their communication link but I’m sure it is not very much fun for Darnand!

[SubRosa]

Sounds like Darny figured out the riddle much easier than I did.

“Will you compose the note, or shall I write it and then discard this page for the note you then dictate to me?”
He's learning!

Lots of nice spycraft here. Which of course is all going to be just tossed out the window because Baurus is probably just sitting there with his sword out looking for someone to kill! But still not as bad as a Peresphone plan: Kill everyone in the city until she gets to the one she wants...