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

[Renee]

"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

[Grits]

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!

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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."

[SubRosa]

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.

[haute ecole rider]

Welp, this caught my eye:

A poorly healed joint could be as bad as the original injury.

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?

[Acadian]

’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.

[Renee]

Prosecco, what's prosecco? A ha, white wine + white grape juice = Star Dew cocktail. I'm down for that.

A "walking mouth!" True.

Okay, so he's concerned about the gates, Jerric is. So there are three different directions right now: Jerric in the realm of Moonshadow, Darnand and Lildereth probably in the midst of travel, and Abiene in Chorrol. That's a moment -- "This shortcut is taking too long." Jerric getting anxious.

"Nereli, I'll take Freckles." Yes, good idea. Won't want the walking mouth running off into these tall grasses as the storm commences.

Nictitating, whoa. New word for me. nictitating: Adjective winking, blinking
--- Yeesh, no. Not a good time to cross a body of water! Alright, it's over, phew!

What I liked about this chapter most was the way they all stuck together as one. Didn't get too distracted from each other, even as they mildly disagreed at times. But yeah, let's see if Jerric can get back to Cyrodiil with haste.

This post has been edited by Renee: May 15 2025, 05:04 PM

[ghastley]

Have we just found the road they were looking for? I suppose they aren't sure yet, either.

I like the "hold on while I heal my broken leg. Just a moment" that means that we still are in TES.

Hopefully, if it is the right road, they joined in the right direction.

[Grits]

Previously: Moonshadow. Jerric, Kjestrid, Shamir-do, Nereli, Freckles, and Neelo set off to find the road to Valparai and the open Gate to County Cheydinhal. After losing their way in a storm, Shamir-do found a village.

SubRosa: Interesting fact about deaths in the Sahara, I would not have guessed that. I’m guilty of once sheltering under the edge of a stream bed during a hailstorm, but there was no flash flood. It was a meltwater stream bed and we were there in August. Still, bad idea!

Rider: I thought of Julian often last week when my knees were acting up. Especially when she walked up that one big staircase. The guars in ESO have been inspiring me. They look so sturdy.

Acadian: Thank you for mentioning Jerric’s growing concern. Worrying about people is a fairly new experience for him. He doesn’t know what to do about it, other than walk faster and take extra good care of the guars.

Renee: We’ll see another nictitating membrane in the next chapter. I think they are neat. I was delighted to read about Joan of Arkay’s pack guar when I got to that part! Thank you for mentioning that the group is sticking together. I think their training helps a lot with that. No one wants to be the first to complain.

ghastley: They also wonder if they found the right road and which way to go on it. In Cyrodiil Jerric has an excellent sense of direction, Darnand has a magical map, and Lildereth seems to know every path and game trail. It took a daedric realm to get him lost!

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Chapter 19: Moonshadow, Part Five

The streets were wide enough to lead the guars side by side toward the commotion. Jerric glanced around as they walked. The adobe huts looked big enough for multiple families, but with their domed roofs seemed unlikely to have upper floors. Bantam guar scratched for bugs in the gardens. Some dwellings had hand carts and wagons pulled up beside them. He saw no obvious defensive structures.

A woman walked down a side street leading what looked like a big crab on spider legs. Another woman jogged past on the way to the argument, a cricket-looking creature scampering at her heels. Jerric watched it hop away, missing his dog.

They reached an open area that had to be the village gathering place. Two figures stood toe-to-toe in the center of the space. One looked like a Dunmer with gray skin and hair dressed in a high braid. The other was a medium sized Khajiit with brown fur and dark stripes. More Dunmer and Khajiit were arrayed behind them. All were dressed in similarly styled working clothes. None seemed to be carrying weapons.

Jerric looked around for a moment before he caught someone's attention. It was a tall man with short, silver hair and light eyes.

"Good day. I'm Jerric."

"Filip," said the man.

"Pleased to meet you. What's going on here?"

Filip lifted his chin at the two who were arguing. "Different day, same story. You folk look the worse for wear."

"We got caught in a storm. Did it rain here?"

Kjestrid gave Jerric a look, but he ignored her. Small talk sometimes led to large talk, and they needed to know some things.

The Dunmer in the middle was speaking in a voice that was meant to carry. "We have been more than patient with you. It has been too long with too little progress--"

"We exhaust ourselves in your cane fields!" the Khajjit interrupted. "Growing moonsugar is not like growing saltrice. You have made a mess of the fields, and we are left to improve them! We have no time to build new houses, and the ones you have given us are beyond repair."

"We have grown crops in those fields since the founding of this village," the Dunmer declared.

"Probably moon rice," said Nereli.

"Nereli!" said Jerric. "You made a joke!"

Filip snorted. "They grew akka zizania. That means moon rice. What brings you folks to New Ascadia?"

"We got turned around in the storm," said Jerric.

"We got lost," Nereli amended.

"This one was not lost," Shamir-do put in. "It is as the Nord says. 'Turned around.'"

"Lost," Kjestrid mouthed at Shamir-do.

"You look like you could use a rest," Filip said. "We have a corner club, but the whole staff is over there."

"We could stand a meal," said Jerric. "After we dry out our gear and tend to the guars."

"We're looking for a Dunmeri lad and a Khajiiti woman," said Nereli. "Have you seen them?"

"Are you jesting?" said Filip. "You just described most of the village."

"They might be with a winged twilight," said Kjestrid.

"Ah," said Filip.

"Her name is Dozara," said Jerric. "Do you know her?"

Filip opened his mouth and then closed it again. "As it happens, I do know Dozara. I haven't seen her in some time, though."

The Khajiit had been speaking, and now the Dunmer raised his voice again. "The fields you work belong to all of us, your people included. You are equals in this realm, despite your complaints to the contrary. It is time you learned the grace to show gratitude, not this childish resentment over what you once were."

Now everyone in the center was talking, some attempting to shout over the others.

Shamir-do's ears had gone flat.

"Well, that ends any chance of a productive discussion," said Filip.

"What's their story?" Jerric asked.

Filip nodded toward the Khajiit. "Most of that lot are new. They were killed in an uprising back in Morrowind. To be fair, they haven't had an easy time here. But it can be difficult to assimilate when you've so many reminders of your old life." He addressed Shamir-do. "There won't be violence. It would displease Our Lady."

Shamir-do acknowledged him with a slight nod, eyes still on the center of town.

The Khajiiti speaker had been pulled into the group by his friends. The Dunmer turned his back as if to walk away.

"Hold," Kjestrid called out, striding into the middle of them. She stopped and turned in a circle until all eyes were on her. "We are outsiders and have no side to take in your quarrel. Here we have two neutral parties." She gave Shamir-do and Nereli a come-here gesture. "This is Nereli, beloved of your Mother of the Rose. She will go with your Khajiiti New Ascadians and learn of their plight. Here is Shamir-do, favored by the Queen of Twilight. He will go with you who dwelt here before and hear your complaints. When you each are satisfied that your representative understands and can speak for you, the two will come together and formulate a plan for your village so that you may go forward in harmony and prosperity to the glory of your Mother of the Twilight Sky."

There was widespread muttering, but Kjestrid continued. "In this way we will fulfill our obligation to you for the hospitality you provide us. We ask only what food you can spare for our rest and to start us back on our journey."

"They should arm-wrestle," Jerric muttered to Filip.

Filip lifted the corner of his mouth in appreciation.

Kjestrid walked back toward Jerric and the guars.

"I don't suppose it's a meal time?" Jerric asked Filip.

"They keep the ovens hot at The Jumping Perch."

"Will I find a guar barn there?"

"There's a stable next door." Filip nodded to Kjestrid and began to walk off.

"Where?" Kjestrid asked, taking Freckles's lead.

Filip turned as he walked and hooked a thumb across the town circle.

As they walked to The Jumping Perch, Jerric's mind turned to Cyrodiil. He had allowed himself to get distracted by the Oblivion Gate, and now he had been away from Martin and his friends for so long he couldn't guess how much time had passed in Tamriel. Lildereth and Darnand would have gone to the Dagon Shrine by now. Darnand was a formidable mage and Lildereth was the best scout he had ever known, but they were taking risks that he should be taking with them. It could cost them their lives or worse. He hadn't been there with his family in their most desperate hour. Now he was not there for the friends he had come to hold in his heart as closely as kin. And this was his own doing.

He would tend to Freckles and Neelo, get some dry socks on and a meal in his belly, then strike out for Valparai. He could leave the pack animals and Ma'sani's parcels here in New Ascadia for her to collect along with the extra gear they had picked up in Morrowind. He had promised Azura that he would go kill her vampires, not that he would lead a pack train across the plains and a desert and then who knew how far still lay ahead.

He looked over at Kjestrid. She was a muddy, soaked mess, but she had still commanded the attention of an entire village. He would have to be careful when he told her the plan. Otherwise he might find himself trotting at her heels over some more hills and mountains.

"There it is," Kjestrid said, a sigh in her voice. "My thighs are chafed to sixteen hells. Or I suppose to fifteen. May the Moon Mother bless this corner club."

Jerric hustled through his chores and made his way clean into The Jumping Perch. Kjestrid sat at a table with an array of platters and bowls around her. Their packs were arranged on another table. Kjestrid's wet things hung on racks next to the fire pit.

Jerric added his linens to the display and pulled a chair up across from Kjestrid. He would lay out his plan after they ate. Hopefully Shamir-do and Nereli would hurry up.

Kjestrid filled a tankard while Jerric scooped food onto a plate. He was gnawing grilled meat off a bone before he took a better look at his meal. Flat bread brushed with oil and dressed with herbs and pepper sat in a stack ready to hand. Wild rice spiked with nuts and small, yellow fruit that looked like cherries made a fragrant pile next to a braised mushroom the size of his palm. Cubes of some pink and orange thing mashed easily under his fork. He poked what looked like a snail still in its shell.

"It's a snail," Kjestrid said. She picked one up, sucked the meat out, and tossed the shell into a bowl without breaking eye contact. Either she was very hungry or she had decided to expand her dining horizons. "There's a paste to put on the bread."

By the time Jerric and Kjestrid had filled the bowl with snail shells, Shamir-do strolled in. He looked perfectly groomed and wore a linen robe that barely made it around him.

"This one knows the way to Valparai," he announced.

Jerric poured his ale while the Khajiit hung his clothes to dry.

"Good," said Kjestrid. "We can finish here and get going. Where's Nereli?"

"She is coming." Shamir-do began filling a plate. "The elders agreed to our plan."

Jerric gave him a go-ahead gesture, mouth full of mushroom and rice.

"This one wants to eat," Shamir-do objected.

Nereli breezed in with a spring in her stride. She was wearing clean clothes and had beads braided into her hair.

"Nereli will tell you our idea," said Shamir-do. He took a big bite of flatbread.

Nereli stood so her back was to the fire pit. "They had the Khajiit separated in some huts on the field side of town. I won't go over the details, but it wasn't a good situation."

"The Dunmer gave them work that they thought would be familiar," Shamir-do put in. "They are snobs, but they did put themselves out to welcome the new villagers."

"Most of the Khajiit knew each other in life," Nereli continued. "They died violently, and it was a shock to be treated in a way they saw as unfair once they reached Moonshadow."

"How did they get here if they were dead?" Jerric asked. "Did they all grow new bodies at the same time?"

Nereli nodded. "New Ascadia is a good place for them. The folk here just did a poor job getting them settled in."

Jerric looked around to see if there were platters on any of the other tables. These yellow cherry things would make a good pie.

"So how did you get them to agree on anything?" Kjestrid asked.

"We made it fair," said Nereli. "Every dwelling will house both Khajiit and Dunmer, and of course the few others who are already considered neutral. They will work together in the fields and also rebuilding the houses. The newcomers don't have all of the skills they need yet, but they will learn. Everyone has one week to organize themselves into houses."

"Then they should have a party," Jerric suggested.

"They will," said Nereli. "And competitions and celebrations for all kinds of things. That was my idea. I asked myself what you would do."

Jerric had to check and make sure it was him that she was talking about.

"After you had boned half of the village, of course," she continued.

"Not this time," said Jerric. "I'm in a drought." He tossed a snail shell at her.

"Are those apple snails?" Nereli gasped. She reached for the bowl.

Jerric put down his fork. His plan to leave everyone behind and make a run for the city seemed less appealing now that they were all seated around the table. Those he loved were strong, skilled, and highly motivated to survive. And they were out of his reach. Still, his chest felt tight at the thought of them.

"Oh!" said Nereli. "I know where Dozara probably is."

"Is it the opposite direction from Valparai?" asked Kjestrid.

"It's sort of in the same direction. There's a canyon, so we have to go close to it anyway. We should see it from a fair distance. Or that is you will, Shamir-do."

"Unless we get another storm," said Kjestrid.

"Can we get there before we'll have to rest?" asked Jerric.

"Yes," said Nereli. "And with Dozara leading us, we won't get lost again."

Jerric and Shamir-do exchanged a glance.

"Back to guar wrangling," said Jerric. "Let's use the rest of this bread to make some sandwiches. In case Dozara's folk have run out of snails."

[ghastley]

Is Jerric eating again?

This isn't a story any more, it's a menu!

Good to see the rest of the party is getting on with business.

[Acadian]

New Ascadia. Dunmer and Khajiit thrust together and trying to get along. What could possibly go wrong? Turns out that Kjestrid had a sound plan that worked better and quicker than probably Jerric had expected.

No matter how many snails he eats, Jerric will still be torn between his task at hand and his friends in Cyrodiil. I’m glad he’s staying with his plan however, as that will probably lead him to Cyodiil with better results. It looks like New Ascadia won’t slow them down much at all and if Nereli is right, their path to Valparai should take them close to the rest of their group.

Well fed, they should be able to continue their trek soon! As long as Jerric doesn’t delay to bone half the village of course.

[SubRosa]

It looks like the Khajiit newcomers are not happy with paradise. It seems even the afterlife runs on the principle that there must an underclass to exploit. Perhaps I am being too pessimistic. But to be honest, as exotic as Moonshadow appears to be, it also seems as mundane as Mundus. People still have to work the fields and tend to their livestock and eat and drink and do all the things they did in life. I don't see the point in wanting this over reincarnation back on Tamriel. At least being reborn there as another person in another place brings a change in scenery and circumstances. Imagine tilling the same field for eternity in Moonshadow?

There talk of being lost reminds me of a quote by Brian Keith in The Mountain Men: "Hmm... been fearsome confused for a month or two, but I ain't never been lost!”

Jerric of course finds this entire side quest through Azura's realm to be frustrating. I don't blame him. He signed on the save the world, not tramp across a Daedric Princess' back yard, and see all of its banal, dirty laundry on display.

I think Steve Martin described the snails best...

[Renee]

Jerric has a dog? What's his or her name?

He had allowed himself to get distracted by the Oblivion Gate, and now he had been away from Martin and his friends for so long he couldn't guess how much time had passed in Tamriel.

Good thing time passes at what seems to be the same rate in both realms, eh? Oblivion gates aren't any real huge time warp, like near a black hole or something. Still, this "short cut" is really quite the long cut!

Snails, blecch! My family went to France when I was a kid, I still remember the huge snails all over the town we were in. Then I learned what could be on the menu that night.

Hope they find Drozara soon.

But to be honest, as exotic as Moonshadow appears to be, it also seems as mundane as Mundus. People still have to work the fields and tend to their livestock and eat and drink and do all the things they did in life.

Agreed with Rosa! Was surprised about the arguments over tending the moon sugar fields too. Then again, do any of us really know what happens in these afterlives? Could be just like wherever we begin.

[haute ecole rider]

Bantam guar! Love those little adorables!

There will always be class conflicts wherever people gather, alive or dead, it seems. It's that "Them vs Us" mentality that social psychologists are always fond of talking about.

And we're on our second breakfast! Or is it third lunch?

So this village wasn't as foreboding as I thought it would be. Or is it? I see we haven't left town yet.

[Grits]

Previously: Moonshadow. Jerric, Kjestrid, Shamir-do, Nereli, Freckles, and Neelo entered the village of New Ascadia. Kjestrid directed Shamir-do and Nereli to resolve a local dispute in exchange for provisions. Shamir-do and Nereli learned where they might find Dozara. It’s on the way.

ghastley: No kidding, this trip has been mostly walk, run, and eat! Jerric has been telling time by his meals, and left to his own schedule he is probably getting some extra ones in.

Acadian: You’re right, Jerric is still very much torn between what he said he would do and what he feels he should be doing. Plus he’s developed loyalty to his current group that doesn’t lessen his loyalty to his friends in Cyrodiil. Thank you for mentioning that. He prefers the kind of conflict that he can punch or stab.

SubRosa: Thank you SubRosa, you have nailed what I was hoping to show in this part of Moonshadow. People are still people despite the beautiful surroundings. Maybe in time they will learn to grow and change as Aman- and Joman-enle did, but the ones who have chosen to cling to who they were have created a same-stuff-different-sky situation. Still, if Jerric found his family here he would hand over his soul to Azura in a heartbeat. Then probably spend the rest of time wondering what they all gave up to stay together.

Renee: Jerric, Darnand, and Lildereth liberated a dog outside Fort Strand when they did the When the Vow Breaks quest. Here’s where it is in the story: link. Jerric named her Ulfe. There is some debate over whose dog it is, since all three of them found her. Jerric thinks of her as his dog. One change I made from the game is giving the Deadlands a roughly 1/3 timescale to Tamriel. So approximately 3 days pass outside for every day he’s in a Gate. He’s not sure how that works in Moonshadow, only that Akatosh’s time rules probably don’t apply. I’ve had escargot once and it was delicious, but thank goodness they were served out of their shells on a little plate. That way I didn’t have to think too much about it!

Rider: Yep, and in New Ascadia the two groups couldn’t even agree that they were both doing it. Elsweyr native Shamir-do was the right Khajiit for those Dunmer to meet, and Nereli the Ashlander was the right Dunmer to negotiate for those Khajiit. Who knows which breakfast that was? Or which lunch? The hours pass quickly when you count them by a Nord’s stomach!

.

Chapter 19: Moonshadow, Part Six

"Well, that's not something you see every day. Even in Moonshadow." Jerric scratched under Neelo's jaw as the guar leaned into him.

"This one will be pleased to return here some day," said Shamir-do.

The aerie's great tower looked like a giant silver blade against the purple sky. He guessed it would take them another hour to walk to it.

"They don't use any lights," Kjestrid said. "That's why we couldn't see it."

"We couldn't see it because it's dark," Jerric pointed out.

They had walked long enough to get eat two rounds of sandwiches before Shamir-do's cat eyes pierced the pale light and spotted the winged twilights' aerie. It had taken another hour before the other mortals could see it. By then they had reached the edge of a canyon so deep Jerric could not see the bottom, and so wide the other side was barely visible to him. Whether it was the light or a mist that obscured his eyes, he couldn't tell.

"Half-blind," Jerric muttered, peering over the edge.

Vines hung from cracks between the rocks. Many of the pink and magenta trees sent their spikes up from the same. Water trickled somewhere nearby, and there was the sound of a waterfall toward the aerie. Something small and winged buzzed under the edge. When Jerric dislodged a rock, its descent provoked widespread skittering.

He held out a palm, filling it with frost. Its blue light might show him something.

"Don't," Kjestrid said at his side. "Look. They might think you're planning an attack."

Now he could see the shapes of something gliding over the gorge. Winged twilights. He watched for a moment. It looked like they were patrolling.

"Can you see the water?" Kjestrid asked.

"No," said Jerric. "Sounds like a river going over the edge. And I'll wager folk with wings don't bother building bridges."

Jerric was correct. Soon they stood at the edge of a broad, slow-moving river. There was no bridge in sight, and no obvious ford.

Shamir-do examined the ground. "The antelope must cross somewhere," he said. "This one will find it."

"Hold," Kjestrid told him. "We're going to want your Rose-Mother talk for this."

Two winged twilights approached from the rear on silent wings. They landed on the riverbank, one on each side of the group. The purple one spoke in a language they didn't understand.

"Hello," called Nereli. "Do you speak Tamrielic?"

"Yes," said the blue one.

"I'm Jerric." He made the rest of the introductions, including Freckles and Neelo by name. He still wasn't sure if guar was on the winged twilights's menu.

"I am Rosilla," the purple one said, "and this is Murrai. What is your business at the Dawning Tower?"

"We're looking for Dozara," said Nereli.

Jerric appreciated that she didn't mention getting lost and their other misadventures.

"We got lost after some cloudskimmers chased us," she finished.

"But you knew that, didn't you?" said Kjestrid. "You know who we are."

Rosilla and Murrai both laughed. "Of course," they chorused. "We have been watching you."

"Have you seen Ma'sani and Renlys?" Jerric asked.

Rosilla flew toward the other side of the river. Murrai leaped into the air and hovered, buffeting them with air from her great wings. "Meet us on the other side," she trilled. "We will take you before our Matriarch."

"Troll's blood," said Kjestrid. "Now we're playing games with bird people."

"There will be a way across," said Jerric. "We'll find it."

"Let's stay together," said Kjestrid. "If we don't find one in this direction, we'll look toward the gorge."

It was Nereli who discovered a wide place where rocks were visible at the bottom. They looked to Shamir-do for confirmation.

"This one thinks we will make it," he said.

With Shamir-do in the lead and Kjestrid at the rear, the party made its careful way across the river. This time they carried their clothes high and dry.

"Soaked again," said Kjestrid. "At least this water's clean."

"If there's another flash flood, I'm just going to relax and enjoy the view," said Jerric. "I mean as we go over the falls."

"Sure," said Nereli from behind him. "And I'll drown myself in this river so I don't have to see it."

"Two moons is enough," laughed Kjestrid from behind her.

Neelo leaned down, scooped a great mouthful of water, then threw her head back, expelling it over her back like a fountain.

"Steady," Jerric said to her. "I don't want to have to dry everything out again!"

Rosilla and Murrai landed to supervise as the mortals got themselves situated. Their giggles sounded like little bells ringing.

Kjestrid produced a comb and smoothed her hair. She gave Jerric an up-and-down look.

He scratched under his beard. "What?"

"We're meeting the Twilight Matriarch."

Shamir-do said, "Khajiit only becomes more fragrant on long journeys, but the Nord should change his shirt."

Jerric pointed at the river. "I have taken two baths today." He dug through his pack for the other shirt.

As they covered the last distance to the base of the Dawning Tower, their escorts made slow circles in the sky. Jerric wondered if they were catching updrafts, like the great sea eagles when they came to the Kvatch plateau. Every bird that he had ever watched hunting looked back over its shoulder before it struck, as predation is a double-edged sword. Except the sea eagles. They never looked back.

He doubted that the winged twilights looked back, either.

The tower stood on pillars with open ground underneath. It looked as if it had been grown out of the ground rather than constructed. A road stretched away into the distance. They must get their supplies that way. Jerric couldn't imagine an aerial pack train of winged twilights.

Rosilla and Murrai landed and walked over to them, stretching their wings before folding them toward their bodies, but still held slightly out for balance.

"I don't see any stairs," said Nereli.

"When you are ready, we will fly you up," said Murrai.

Jerric looked around. "The guars--" he started.

"I'll stay down with them!" said Nereli. She raised her hand like a schoolgirl. "Me!" Her face looked a paler shade of gray than usual.

"What about the shadowcats?" asked Jerric.

Rosilla dragged a lazy furrow into the ground with one of her taloned feet. "No shadowcats will approach our aerie. Leave your bows with Nereli."

Jerric didn't have a bow. Kjestrid and Shamir-do handed theirs over without complaint. He supposed that flying creatures must hate to be shot as much as he did, but they had little to fear from swords.

Murrai had brought a sort of net with her. She laid it out on the ground with brisk efficiency.

"This one will go first," said Shamir-do. He lay down on the net, arms and legs spread. His feet went into pockets, and there were grips for his hands. It looked terrifying.

Kjestrid caught Jerric's eye. She seemed to share his opinion.

Jerric went next. He debated simply closing his eyes, but his panic at the first lurch and swing quickly abated. Both fists wrapped in the net, he looked around in wonder. The aerie must be as tall as the White-Gold Tower, the only other thing he could compare it to. He still couldn't see the bottom of the canyon. And what he had taken for abbreviated clothing on these winged twilights were just areas of darker scales.

The lowest level was an open platform big enough to hold a thousand folk with plenty of wing room. There were no furnishings, but flowering vines cascaded from planters set into the pearlescent walls. The tower was hollow as far up as Jerric could see. Winged twilights took off and landed from upper levels, and some were gliding down. Now he knew why most of the ones outside were flying up.

Kjestrid landed with a thump and clatter accompanied by giggles from her bearers. Jerric put out an arm and hauled her up. Shamir-do stood with serene dignity, but his tail was bushed out like a bottle brush.

"All right," Kjestrid said in an intense mutter, "Let's go represent the Bruma Fighters Guild!"

But there was more distance to cover. Rosilla took off from the outer ledge and flew upward, while Murrai coaxed a small scamp-like creature forward. She spoke to it in what Jerric assumed was their daedric language.

The scamp jumped up and down several times. Jerric's fingers relaxed their grip on his sword hilt.

"Follow Onka," Murrai told them. She took off without further explanation.

The scamp trotted to a wide staircase that curved up to the next level. It turned as if to see if they were following. Then without waiting, it scampered up the steps until it disappeared around the bend.

"Twenty Septims says we're going all the way up," said Kjestrid.

"At least it's not a ladder," said Jerric. "Gods help us."

At the top they paused to compose themselves. Onka waited without comment. Occasionally he executed a series of little hops, slapping his palms against the floor. As they walked into an open area that spanned the entire width of the tower, Rosilla and Murrai swooped in and landed. They took positions on either side of the group. Kjestrid nudged Jerric into the middle.

A winged twilight about the size of an Altmer perched in the center of the space. Round planters overflowing with flowers stepped up to her roosting place. Roseate light turned the shimmering walls shades of pink. If there was a way for creatures who merely walked to reach the Twilight Matriarch, Jerric couldn’t see it.

"Wait here," Murrai hissed. The two twilights took a few more steps and then bowed, spreading their wings out to the side.

"Here are Shamir-do, Kjestrid, and Jerric," said Rosilla.

With a rattle of pinions, the Matriarch both acknowledged and dismissed Murrai and Rosilla. The two moved back toward the stairs.

In addition to their escorts, five winged twilights stood or perched around the aerie’s great hall. At least a dozen scamps scurried about on unknown business. There was none of the clutter of entertaining or administration that Jerric had seen on his rare visits to Castle Kvatch’s throne room. It seemed there was nothing to do up here but look around.

"You may approach and state your business," said the Twilight Matriarch. Her voice sounded deeper than Dozara's, but just as musical.

Kjestrid spoke up. "My lady, we are traveling under the blessing of your Prince. Dozara was leading us to Valparai. We became separated and came to look for her here."

The Matriarch tilted her head sharply one way, then back in the other direction. "Dozara has returned. She is occupied with a task for me."

Jerric bit his cheek to keep from cursing out loud. "When will she be free? Uh, my lady?"

"Who could know? Shall I send someone to assist her?"

"Yeah. That would be great."

"I send the three of you," said the Matriarch. A wave of giggles flowed around the chamber. "Figments have infiltrated the tunnels nearby. Cowardly, cursed creatures! Their presence annoys me. Dozara and two of her sisters have gone to find their nest. And destroy it."

"What are figments?" asked Kjestrid.

The court echoed their Matriarch's hiss. "Vipers! Interlopers! They do not belong in our Twilight Queen's realm. I will speak no more of them." The Matriarch bobbed her head several times, rising up and back down on her perch. "Murrai and Rosilla will show you. Athnix, assist them. Mortals, you are dismissed."

.

This post has been edited by Grits: May 28 2025, 02:30 AM

[ghastley]

Jerric: "I'm sorry, but I can't take another quest. I'm only allowed to have 25 in my journal."

Twilight grabs his journal and abandons one for him.

[Acadian]

Two sandwiches worth of walking. That is of course how Jerric measures distances!

I really enjoyed your descriptions of how both the twilights and, later, the scamps act, their mannerisms and such.

’He doubted that the winged twilights looked back, either.’
- - Good point. Unless there be dragons in Moonshadow, winged twilights are probably the top aerial predator.

“I send the three of you,” said the Matriarch.’
- - But of course you will! Jerric just signed the team up to be Figment hunters. . . whatever Figments are. And another delay I'd wager.

“Mortals, you are dismissed."
- - Talking daedra surely surpass even Altmer when it comes to being convinced of their own superiority – and wanting you to know it. Honestly, after dealing with quite a few dremora, Buffy wondered if she should change her name to ‘Little Mortal’ since that is the name they all seem to use for her.


Nit: ’It look{ed?} as if it had been grown out of the ground rather than constructed.’

[RaderOfTheLostArk]

Given my absence from the forums for some time, it'll take me quite some time to get acclimated to what is happening in these stories. My apologies, but I'll do my best.

I must say, though, that it is quite impressive how dedicated you all are to keeping up on updating your stories. Many props to all of you.

Anyway, I wish we could see Moonshadow in the games, so nice to see that it at least happens in this story.

[SubRosa]

An impossibly tall tower surrounded by a steep river ravine. The perfect roost for those with wings.

Well, at least the Twilights might know where their comrades are. Though I am sure they will want something in return for that information. That is how these things go.

The Twilight Tower does not disappoint. As one would expect, there is no stairway up. They will have to go Telvanni style. Well, I guess none of them know a levitate spell. So it is Twilight express!

So there is a staircase inside. Thank Moonshadow for small wonders. I am guessing that is because the Twilights have servants like Onka who lack wings.

Figments? But not of the Matriarch's imaginations. Though clearly they do vex her so. Well, here is the other shoe, dropped and all. One more side quest for the list.

[Renee]

Jerric nodded. “I really just got the one.” He looked down at the dog, now standing in their circle next to Lildereth. Darnand must have unchained it, he thought. “How long will your spell keep him quiet?”

“Her. I didn’t need my spell.” Lildereth reached up and ruffled the dog’s droopy ears. Her shaggy head was level with the Bosmer’s chest. The dog’s long jaw dropped open at Lildereth’s caress. Dog breath steamed into the morning. “This is no guard dog, she just barks when someone comes near. She doesn’t seem to have any love for her dead masters. I wonder where they got her.”

She cast a spell to keep the dog quiet! Hey, wish I could cast this spell on my yappy mom's dog sometimes yap yap yip yip yip!!! Anyway, a lot of dogs can be considered as guard dogs in this way, but it sounds like Lil is trying to reign Ulfe's desire to do so a bit. Dogs alerting can also cause the wrong sort of attention.

Is funny that none of the three who found Ulfe can be considered "owner".

Whoa: a day in Deadlands = 3 days in Tamriel, wow. I stand corrected.

All these winged twilights make me nervous. Part when Jerric hopes nobody will mention getting lost (and then Nereli just blurts that's exactly what happened) ha ha!

Really hope they're able to ... I mean, this Twilight Queen sounds ominous. What have they gotten themselves into?

This post has been edited by Renee: Jun 3 2025, 03:59 PM

[haute ecole rider]

Figment? Somehow that takes me back to my college days and my "first" cat - a stray black cat who would visit my dorm and go from room to room mooching food and beds. He was always welcome on my bed! We called him Figment because we all collaborated to hide him from our RAs - they would ask us if we saw a cat and we would say no, must be a figment of your imagination . . .

Ah, yes, a favor must be paid in advance with another favor in the opposite direction.