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

[Burnt Sierra]

I thought I'd jump in and catch up with some Jerric. Only problem I discovered is I couldn't quite remember where I'd got up to, as it's been a while, so....only one solution presented itself.

Time travel back to 2010, and start from the beginning! This may take a while

Currently up to Chapter Five, having just been entertained by Jerric's (obviously patented) super slick seductive patter in how to charm Dunmeri sisters, and the perils therein.

Edit:

I wasn't going to post another reply again quite so early, but having just finished Chapter Seven, and the intense, gritty Battle for Kvatch, I couldn't let the opportunity pass without mentioning it. It was riveting, to the point of needing to take a breath myself at the conclusion.

Edit the second:

After a fairly marathon day of reading, I'm pausing after Chapter 11.11, as Jerric nearly throttling the life out of Darnand due to an incredibly creative use of a Command Spell and a failed Dispel actually got an audible "Nooooo!" out of me as I realised what was happening! I'm going to quickly log into ESO to grab the daily rewards before the EU server has it's usual daily failure, and will be continuing to read this absolutely epic tale tomorrow.


Edit the third:

Best laid plans. I thought I'd just have a little nightcap and read just a tiny bit more. Poured a nice glass of whisky. Highland single malt, perfect for sipping and reading.

Sooooooo glad you decided to make whisky consumption a vital part of needing the innovative hangover cure. Really. No, truly. Words cannot express the depth of my appreciation

But, now completed Chapter 12, and looking forward to continuing lucky number thirteen tomorrow...erm...later this morning. Like a guild meet night, far too easy to just keep going

[Burnt Sierra]

You will be delighted to discover that last night's whisky in no need required Abienne or Darnand's intervention. Well, after the evocative description of it's effects, I was relieved anyway!

But now we're up to Chapter 15, and about to arrive at Chorrol (sooner or later, we all seem to end up there )


Lildreth and Darnand

Darnand is feeling guilty about that knowing he's going to see Abienne again, but still hasn't discovered Jerric and Abienne's dalliances

Sounds like Darnand has already put two and two together about Jerric and Martin, with the visit to recover Jerric's enchanted boots and ring from the watch

The Odill farm is deserted, but no sign's of it being a Daedric attack

Lildreth is upset, but not giving away what she's been up to

I'm now only 13 years behind!

Time to get back to reading!


Edit the 1st:

Another solid day of reading (you've written a LOT!), has led me to Bruma and the satisfying conclusion of finding J'skar, and giving Volanaro a well deserved prank in return.

Reflecting on the days events, there has been an incredible amount of ground covered. The wonderful Valley of Hopes chapter, with Atronach's, Vampires and cool guest appearances. Lildreth has really grown as a character, the backstory about the attack on her settlement, and her motivations in the present have rounded her out wonderfully. So much so, I know it's Jerric's Story, but when she's in the scene she almost seems to become the fulcrum that holds it together.

The details, the humour, just a brilliant story, and I can't wait to continue!


Edit the 2nd:

Oh, wow. I mean...wow. The Oblivion gate. Awesome Oblivion gate. The growing connection and understanding with His Frostiness (seriously, Conjuration has never been that cool, and it's always been my favourite skill line in every TES game.) Splitting up the party. Arriving in Morrowind. And now it looks like, not only have they gained some new members to their troupe, but they might be travelling through Moonshadow? Not only that, but Lildreth and Darnand have teamed up with Baurus. Talking of Darnand, there's some leadership really starting to show through now. Absolutely loving this! Up to 2019 too, getting closer to being caught up!

Edit the 3rd:

I was right because it’s called a load lightener not a burglar’s bag, and—”

“Does it not presently hold at least ten stolen Welkynd stones?”

“That’s irrelevant.”

“How does it work?”

“Like a burglar’s bag.”

“We’re here,” said Lildereth. She tugged on his robe as if straightening it across his chest.

“Thank you, my dear ‘wife.’ It is pleasant to perambulate among the,” Darnand glanced around, “tombs, is it not?”

“Come along, dearest,” Lildereth coaxed him. “Our tour is canceled. If we leave now we can visit the herbalist and still have time to soak your piles before dinner.” She rubbed his abdomen in a patronizing manner.

“You are wise, my darling,” Darnand gritted, squeezing her fingers harder than necessary. “While I bathe you shall have time to lance a few of your boils. And perhaps even make inroads against the fungal growth beneath your toenails.”

Note to self, as it isn't the first time it's happened: Whisky nightcap and reading this tale results in whisky snortage (French accent mandatory)

Edit the final:

Two and a half days non-stop reading later, and apparently channelling the spirit of Sir Brenvale and his Gilded Lute:

Huzzah!
With magnificent ceremony and pomp
I declare I've stomped through this romp
Indeed I'd decree the pleasure I've received
Allowed time to relentlessly recede
And I can't wait for you further to proceed
(Now, ask Jerric to pass the mead!)
Huzzah, huzzah, huzzah!

[Renee]

Sheesh. Sorry Grits. Really wanted to keep up during June but neither hospital I stayed in had decent wifi and I need a new laptop Anyway, I'm sort of lost and my mind's muddled on some meds atm, pretty sure this is where I left off. I'll resume later when my mind is clearer.

later: Drozara is hunting for a figment nest... "whatever that is!" uh OH...

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.

Glad this got mentioned. Because yes, he's been spending a lot of time with this alternate/splinter group.

The Aerie tower sounds like a skyscraper from a Blake Crouch novel. Certainly fit for a place flying daedra would live. "edge of a canyon so deep...." Dang, pretty sure I'm in the wrong chapter again. YIKES that's a lot of sandwiches! 🥪🥪🥪🥪🥪🥪🥪🥪🥪🥪

Oh gosh, they're being flown up higher? Fear of heights triggers for me, even in stories! - Especially bc it sounds as though there aren't walls or guardrails surrounding this first platform, or the ramp/stairway going up. The presence of scamps makes me especially nervous, as I'd worry one would run into someone, knocking him or her, sending someone careening to the canyon far below.

You're doing a fantastic job describing how pretty and precaqrious their surroundings are by the way, Gritsy

Eesh, and now they're being sent on another splinter quest! Jerric is becoming just as busy as macole's Jandaga!

I am here
















1

This post has been edited by Renee: Jul 27 2025, 08:46 PM

[Grits]

Previously: On approach to Cheydinhal Jerric found a Gate to Oblivion. Someone had gone in to close it. He met Abiene’s ex-boyfriend Vidkun and defended the Gate by his side. Nereli closed the Gate and was named a Knight of the Thorn. Huzzah! Jerric and Vidkun headed into town with plans to meet the following evening. Nereli went to check out the Thorns’ lodge.

Burnt Sierra: Oh my gosh, you caught up! I am delighted that you’re reading, and I hope Jerric and company keep your interest! Your lovely comments made me laugh and grin as I remembered those long-ago written chapters. Lildereth has been interesting to write. I guessed how she would get along with Jerric and Abiene, but her chemistry with Darnand surprises me every time they’re in a scene together. I’m glad you didn’t let Jerric pour the whisky and so avoided the horrendous hangover cure. And with your delightful song Jerric passes the mead, huzzah! Thank you, Burnt!

Renee: I have a fear of heights, too, but it’s only bad when there’s nothing around like a railing to grab onto. So I would be crawling up the middle of that staircase, if I had to climb the Dawning Tower. I’m so glad to see you back! The story will be here whenever you’re ready for it, and if something is confusing I will happily answer questions to clear things up. You’re right, Jerric’s list of side-tasks keeps growing on this so-called shortcut. Thank you, Renee!

.

Chapter 20: The Well, Part Two

The Cheydinhal Fighters Guild Hall smelled the same as any other that Jerric had visited, but this one had an oppressive feel. The entry opened into a narrow, low-ceilinged space. The fireplace directly opposite the door was cold. A creak of chair and clank of armor drew Jerric's attention to the small chamber on the right. It looked like a dining room sadly bereft of anything to dine upon. A black and brown dog lay on a faded red cushion, head up and pointed ears alert.

The armor was worn by a sleepy-looking Imperial woman with closely cropped brown hair. "Help you?"

"I'm Jerric of Anvil. Apprentice. I'm looking for a bed while I'm in town, a contract, and…" He lifted his battered shield.

"I'm Grayne the porter. You'll find the beds upstairs, and the armorer will be downstairs in the morning. His name is Kulbert. Come on over to the office and we'll get you registered." She looked at the dog. "Good boy, Clancy. Free."

Clancy leaped to Jerric's feet without seeming to touch the ground. He began a thorough sniffing, starting at his boots.

"What are the odds I can get something from the kitchen?" Jerric executed a careful shuffle across the hall, avoiding Clancy's paws. Grayne's office was a simple desk near the foot of a staircase.

"You'll find fruit, cheese, and cold beef for sandwiches. Please don't give too much to Clancy. He'll eat until he makes himself sick. If there's kahve left it will be thick as porridge at this hour. There's bottled beer and ale in nearly every cupboard in this place, and that rack is full of wine. Just clean up after yourself."

Jerric signed the ledger. "Quiet for a Fighters Guild Hall."

"Keld of the Isles is the only one in the common quarters tonight. We always have empty beds, but when Burz wakes up it won't be quiet. That's our Guildmaster. Burz gro-Khash."

It didn't take long to sort his gear, empty a beer bottle, wash up, empty another bottle, and devour a cheese and beef snack attended by a hopeful Clancy. Jerric gave him an apologetic neck scratch and headed for the stairs. "Sorry, boy. You heard her."

The second floor hosted a small table with chairs and a library wall loaded with enough writing materials to please a mage. The table held a dozen bottles of beer. A look inside one of the cupboards showed the same. Perhaps there was a local drinking game that involved ink pots and quills.

Chuckling to himself, Jerric considered the two closed doors. One must be the Guildmaster's room. He opened the one he guessed led to the larger common quarters.

He guessed right. Arming racks, dressers, and chests were arranged near each bed. The two windows stood open, letting in the mountain breeze. Only the middle bed held an occupant. A Nord lay there, fully naked, bedding kicked to the floor.

The Nord lifted his head and blinked at Jerric. "Welcome, brother. Looks like you have your choice tonight. I guess those Redguards decided not to stay."

Jerric took the bed by the window, grinning. "Thank Kyne for Nords. There will always be a free bed in Cheydinhal while Keld of the Isles is in resistance. I'm Jerric." He dropped his clothes onto a nearby chest and fell asleep almost before his head hit the pillow.

~~~

Breakfast was the same as his late-night dinner, but with a tankard of kahve this time. Jerric handed Clancy a sliver of beef as he took a seat in the dining chamber.

"Morning," he said to the man already sitting there. "I'm Jerric."

"I'm Mercer the porter."

"Pleased to meet you. Is Burz around?"

"No," said Mercer. "Burz spends his mornings about town. He'll be back in a few hours and stay for the rest of the day." He sighed. "Kulbert wants to speak with you."

"Thanks." Jerric raised his sandwich. "Is the cook on vacation?"

"We don't have a cook. Most of our local members don't live here. Burz tells me what he wants and I order it from The Broken Tusk." He sighed again. "Orc food."

"Who makes the kahve?"

"That's me."

"Well done."

Jerric washed his plate and tankard, then headed to the basement. His gear was still laid out in the way he had left it. A Nord man sat on a stool, leaning against one of the anvils. The forge was cold.

"I'm Jerric."

"Kulbert. I took a look at what you got."

"All right."

"You're going to want to take that shield to Tertia Viducia over at The March Rider. She's the only smith in town I'd trust with Akaviri work. You want to pay me to clean the rest, or do it yourself?"

"I'll do it myself." Jerric looked around at the spotless training area. "Do you see a lot of action down here?"

"Mostly me. Business is slow, but it suits me. Keeps me out of the house, and that makes the wife happy. Burz is a bear sometimes, but I got thick skin. Doesn't bother me."

Jerric thought of the heavily used Bruma guild hall and the militia who trained there. It was hard to believe that this clean and largely empty building was part of the same guild. "Where's The March Rider?"

"Riverside on Merchant's Row. If you cut around the back of the guild hall, make a left when you get to the street. Can't miss it."

"Thanks."

Warm sun and a cool breeze made the morning delightful. Jerric followed the path between guild halls. The street turned into a river walk under willow trees. Stones were placed in beds of raked gravel in the manner Jerric now recognized as Dunmeri gardening. None of the flowers looked useful, but the bright caps of fly amanita grew bountifully between the rocks.

The March Rider's exterior was as ornate as any manor house, but inside stood a working forge. The armor and weapons on display looked no better than what he already owned. A glass case held a saber. Jerric tried conceal his interest.

The proprietor's smirk let him know that he had failed. "The March Rider sells and repairs weapons and armor," she declared. "Can I help you? I'm Tertia Viducia."

"I'm Jerric. Pleased to meet you." He offered his shield. "What can you do with this?"

Tertia carried the shield to a workbench. "Do you mean repair, or do you want to trade?"

"Repair, please."

She gave a low whistle, turning it on her bench. "This is beautiful work. Expensive, I'll wager. Expensive to acquire and expensive to maintain."

"How expensive?"

Tertia examined it for a few more minutes. Then she stepped back and named her price.

"Mara's heart!" said Jerric. Forget about that saber.

"The magic that has kept it intact is difficult to work with. You won't find another smith in Cheydinhal who will even try."

"I believe you." Jerric rubbed the bridge of his nose. If Burz paid the standard guild rate for his rank, one contract wouldn't cover it. He didn't want to stay long enough for two. "Where's the alchemist?"

"Eilonwy at the Mages Guild."

"I'll be back."

The sun still wasn't hurting him, so Jerric kept concerns about the vampire curse firmly at the back of his mind. The Chapel of Arkay's pinnacles and great spire towered over the city. There was no need to ask directions. He mentally reviewed the contents of his bags as he walked over an arched bridge and around to the front of the chapel. If he secured a contract from Burz before visiting the alchemist, he would know how much more gold he needed. That way he wouldn't trade away too much of his Moonshadow harvest. Some of it still might make it to Cloud Ruler Temple to show Lildereth and Darnand.

Inside the chapel, stained glass windows turned the sunlight to jewel-toned patterns across the pews and floor. Jerric paused in the entrance while his eyes adjusted.

A Dunmer lass stood a few steps away arranging flowers on a table full of little candles.

"Good morning," Jerric said to her. "I'm here to see the healer."

She nodded into the chapel proper. "Hil the Tall is our healer. He'll take care of you."

Jerric did not need to ask which person was Hil the Tall. He guessed that a Dunmer had given him the nickname. A Nord would have called him Little Hil. He walked over and looked up at the man. "I'm Jerric."

"Praise Kyne and all her little woodland creatures!" said Hil. "I'm Hil the Tall, Priest of Arkay. I'm also a trainer in the arts of Illusion. I love magic, too." He threw his arms wide. "I love everything. And everyone. You, too."

"Well don't kiss me yet, I've been exposed to the vampire sickness."

"Porphyric Hemophila?"

"You tell me."

"Where were you exposed?"

Jerric nodded in the direction he knew to be north. "Gutted Mine."

"That's the one, then." Hil walked toward the stairs that led to the Chapel's lower chambers. "Come with me. This isn't a matter for all to see."

Jerric followed. "Heh. You're not going to stick me with a silver dagger, are you?"

"I hope not."

Hil led Jerric through a long, rectangular room that looked like it served as a dining hall among other purposes. He gestured to one of the small chambers on the side. "My office is in here. No need to get on the cot. Just have a seat and I'll take a look." He sat in one of the chairs and held out his hands.

Jerric complied, thinking wistfully of Abiene.

Hil's magical examination took longer than Jerric expected. "You were infected, but it's gone now," Hil said. "Did you take a potion?"

"Yeah."

"Where did you get it?"

"Uh..."

Hil leaned back and made a hurry-up gesture. "An independent shop? The Mages Guild? A back alley?"

"Moonshadow. I don't know who made it."

Hil crossed his arms. "Daedra. Son, if you need to get right with the Nine, here is your opportunity."

"I guess the Nine like me well enough. I'm still Kyne's child, or that's what they tell me."

"That's what your Woad tells me. And there's more than a little of the Dragon about you."

"Let's keep that between us."

As he made his donation to Hil, Jerric's stomach gurgled. It was time for a mid-morning sandwich. He picked up the pace back to the Fighters Guild.

Inside, an Orsimer wearing intricately worked fur and hide armor stood by the stairs, shouting. "This guild is going to hell in a hogcart. Look at what they give me! Keld of the Isles? Ohtimbar? Both Guardian rank? Phah! Useless!" He spied Jerric. "You here looking for work, meat? Maybe you want a contract?"

"Yeah. I'm Jerric. Apprentice rank."

"I suppose I've got something for you. We need a weapons shipment delivered to Desolate Mine. That's your job."

"Kulbert has the shipment?"

"No," drawled Burz, "I have it right here in my little handbag." His snort shot spit in two directions.

"All right." Jerric headed for the basement.

"Move your ass, boot," Burz said to Jerric's back.

.

This post has been edited by Grits: Jul 29 2025, 03:28 PM

[SubRosa]

Beer, cheese, and a friendly dog. Sounds pretty good.

And Naked Nords!

So Jerric is free of disease, and soon to be free of his money. I cannot fail to note that he is laying his life on the line to literally save the world, but he still has to do odd jobs to pay the bills in the middle of it all.

Burz really grows on you. Like a carbuncle.

[Acadian]

It seems Cheydinhal hosts a sleepy and, on balance, rather unpleasant fighters guild. A free bed though, and something resembling chow.

Wise to stop at the chapel and get that vampirism cured.

Hopefully just one guild contract will net Jerric enough gold to fix his shield and move on. The chapter’s title suggests more business in the city though . . . .

[haute ecole rider]

Ahhh, Burz, he does bring back memories . . . . Julian was wondering if he trained at the same DI school as her own!

I forgot to post that I chuckled through the previous post - all those Huzzahs! still make me laugh/groan/cry . . .

And yes, the nitty gritty of the sell sword's life amidst saving Nirn . . . how to keep gear in good repair, keep oneself fed and housed, and oh yes, check in with the priests to make sure one doesn't have vampirism or lycanthropy . . . fun times!

[Burnt Sierra]

Jerric signed the ledger. "Quiet for a Fighters Guild Hall."
"Keld of the Isles is the only one in the common quarters tonight. We always have empty beds"

I wonder why?

The two windows stood open, letting in the mountain breeze. Only the middle bed held an occupant. A Nord lay there, fully naked, bedding kicked to the floor.

Ah, that's why. At least he opened the windows to allow the breeze in! Or was that the Redguards parting gift before they scarpered covering their eyes?

"Kulbert has the shipment?"

"No," drawled Burz, "I have it right here in my little handbag." His snort shot spit in two directions.

Maybe Jerric should check in with Buffy! I'm sure she could suggest an establishment in Cheydinhal where he could pick up a nice dainty Bosmeri appropriate handbag! Sounds like Burz would appreciate such a thoughtful gift Grumpy Orc's aren't renowned as being particularly fast runners, right?

As he made his donation to Hil, Jerric's stomach gurgled. It was time for a mid-morning sandwich.

Yep, glad to see Jerric still has his priorities in the right order

Now, lets hope his contract at the Desolate Mine goes smoothly, and the people he'll be delivering the weapons to will be sensible, methodical, observant and not suicidal idiots who charge forward with no... Hm. Good luck Jerric!

S.G.M. Can't wait to read the next installment.

[Kane]

Sounded like a nice, relaxing morning until the met the boss. Burz seems like someone who needs a boot, instead of call others that.

[Grits]

Previously: After a quiet night at the Fighters Guild, Jerric got an estimate for shield repair that made his hair stand on end. He doubled-checked that he is for really sure not a vampire with Hil the Tall at the local chapel. Burz gave him a contract to deliver a weapons shipment to a local mine.

Keld of the Isles sleeping naked was inspired by an ancient bug that kept him from equipping his night clothes. The first time I saw him on his bed I was very surprised. A lot of the NPC dialog in the last section was lifted straight from the game. The Cheydinhal folks make me equal parts palm my face and laugh.

SubRosa: I’m glad you pointed out Jerric’s financial situation. It has become a bit ridiculous. He’s been away from the office too long! I remember when Brother Venco gave him Tower of the Nine thinking that it would cause him trouble some day. In Oblivion Remastered it looks very old and beat up, much more so than in the original game. Clancy the dog is in the game files but not the game. I had to put him in the story to keep everyone at the Fighters Guild from quitting. Burz does not run a friendly guild hall. Thank you, SubRosa!

Acadian: Burz is astonishingly rude in the game. Jerric always talks to him just to hear what he’ll say. Cheydinhal was supposed to be a quick chapel stop before hitting the road to Cloud Ruler Temple, but we know how Jerric’s shortcuts go! Thank you, Acadian!

Rider: Those Huzzahs made me flinch, too! I always feel so bad for Bremman. I’m sure Grandmaster Jauffre is going to tear out the rest of his hair at how long it takes Jerric to get from Bruma to Cloud Ruler Temple even with a group from the Fighters Guild escorting him. They’re going to make sure he has traveling money when he just walks out to the stable. Thank you, Rider!

Burnt Sierra: I can imagine the parade of late arrivals to the Cheydinhal Fighters Guild Hall who bolted into the night rather than share a room with naked Keld. The Desolate Mine quest makes me twitch as much as “Huzzah!” A S.G.M.?! Thank you, Burnt! Here you go!

Kane: Burz is so rude! Jerric met an orc from the Orum gang in his game, and he also said outrageous things. People even say mean things about Hil “I love everyone” the Tall. Jerric found Cheydinhal pretty but not at all welcoming. Thank you, Kane!

.

Chapter 20: The Well, Part Three

"You got the weapons there and cleared the mine with no casualties," said Burz. "Better than I expected from you. Here's your reward, and a little bonus."

Jerric added the coins to his pouch without comment. The "weapons shipment" had turned out to be only the first part of the job. Still, killing the goblins who had taken over the mine took less time than the walk there and back. Hopefully the alchemist would still be open for trade.

Mercer stood by the porter's desk.

"Has a Dunmer stopped in while I was gone?" Jerric asked him. "Her name is Nereli. She's an Associate." He picked up a ball and tossed it for Clancy.

"And I'm promoting you to Journeyman," Burz continued.

"Really?" said Jerric. "Why?"

"You've taken contracts at enough chapters. Any more questions, meat?"

"When's dinner? I could stand a few more cold sandwiches."

Burz threw his head back and roared. After a moment Jerric realized he was laughing.

"No," Mercer said to Jerric. "Would you like to leave her a message?"

"Yeah, tell her I'll be back here tonight. Thanks, Mercer."

Jerric swapped his armor for street clothing and jogged next door to the Mages Guild, alchemy bag in hand. The Mages Guild Hall was built with a center stairway and split levels in both directions off the entry. On the right two elves stood talking. In the chamber to the left another elf swirled liquid in her retort. An Altmer in a fur-trimmed velvet robe pelted down the stairs from an upper floor.

Before Jerric could take a step toward the alchemist, the fancy Altmer swung around and scowled at him. "Don't you have somewhere else to be?"

"What?" said Jerric.

"I find it surprising that you're speaking to me again without having completed your task."

"Uh…"

"I believe I explained it very clearly," the Altmer sneered. "Find the ring, which is somewhere down in the well behind the guild hall. Bring it to me. Do you understand, or do I need to use even smaller words?" He stormed across the entry and slammed the basement door.

A slim Argonian with tired eyes stood on the left-side steps, rubbing her palms together. "There you are," she rasped. "I was beginning to worry. I'm glad you haven't done it yet."

Jerric checked behind himself before he answered her. "Me? Haven't done what yet?"

She moved up into the entry, speaking in a hushed tone. "This morning Falcar sent you to get his ring out of the well. If I didn't know any better I'd say he's trying to get you killed! There's something I can teach you that will help."

A Redguard had drifted in their direction, clearly eavesdropping. "What in sixteen hells has addled you mages?" Jerric asked him.

"You Nords all look alike," he said. "She thinks you're… What was his name again?" He turned to the Argonian. "Do you remember, Deetsan?"

"Oh dear," said Deetsan. "Has anyone seen Vidkun?"

Jerric left a trail of pack, boots, and shirt on his way out to the well. He found the cover unlocked and a pile of neatly folded clothing beside it. A cold fist gripped his belly as he dropped into the water.

Jewel of the Rumare let him swim easily in the near darkness. The bottom of the well shaft opened into a sunken cavern that had been shored up with stacked stone supports. It took several turns around the confusing space to find Vidkun, face-down in a corner. Far longer than a single breath would have lasted.

As he wrestled Vidkun into the well shaft, Jerric realized he wouldn't be able to get him up the ladder. Their heads broke the water surface, Jerric cursing.

"Hold still," Deetsan called from above. As aetherial blue feathers floated down, Jerric felt himself lighten. The Redguard joined Deetsan, casting his own spell.

"Cast it again!" Jerric called. "I absorbed it."

Jerric hauled Vidkun up through a storm of magical feathers. The ladder's metal rungs bit into his feet, but now their combined weight was manageable. Vidkun sprawled bonelessly on the grass. Jerric dropped to his knees beside him.

"I know what to do," Jerric said, tilting Vidkun's head back to open his airway. He pushed the soaked hair out of the way. Vidkun's once-blue eyes were open, clouded over with white.

"Oh, no," murmured Deetsan. She turned and ran back toward the guild hall.

Feeling sick, Jerric placed his palm over Vidkun's eyes.

"I'm Trayvond," said the Redguard. "Do you know if he had a chapel affiliation?"

"I don't know. I'll take him to Hil the Tall while the guild figures it out. At least it will be another Nord that keeps him in Arkay's grace." He looked numbly at Trayvond. "I'm Jerric. Can you go get something to wrap him in?"

Jerric's hair was still wet when he returned to the Mages Guild Hall. He found Deetsan pacing in the entry.

"If you knew what the ring was, why didn't you warn him?" Jerric demanded. "You're Saxhleel, why didn't you check the well yourself? A good man is dead for no reason! Are Nords so beneath your notice and unworthy of your time?"

"Falcar is the ranking member here, and I didn't feel comfortable going behind his back. It's such a shame. Vidkun didn't deserve to die like that." She shook her hands as if flicking water from them.

"Falcar! Where is that back-stabbing coward?"

Deetsan's eyes were round as marbles. Her fluttering head spines made their rings clink together. "I'm afraid some things have happened while you've been gone, Associate," she said.

Jerric took some slow breaths, unclenching his fists. "I'm Jerric."

Deetsan seemed to calm slightly. "I'll admit, it's my doing. I'm just so tired of the way we've been treated by Falcar! After you pulled poor Vidkun out of the well I was angry, so I confronted Falcar directly. He was furious when I threatened to report him to the Council of Mages. He flew into a rage! I thought he was going to kill me! I didn't even understand some of his ranting, but he said that our days are numbered, and then he stormed out! I don't know if he ever wrote your recommendation. I'm sorry, I didn't expect this to happen. Perhaps you should go look and see if he did write one? You should check his room in the living quarters. If you see the note, or anything else unusual, let me know. I'll gladly send it to the Council."

"Deetsan, Falcar didn't give me a recommendation task. That was Vidkun. And if he sent Vidkun to his death, do you really think that he wrote a letter for him?"

"I'm sorry," said Deetsan. "I'm sorry that you had to be a part of all this. Do you know Vidkun's next of kin?"

In a rush he thought of Abiene, hoping for a letter from Vidkun as he traveled Cyrodiil, waiting to see him when he reached Chorrol. She should hear about this from someone who loves her. Not from gossip at the guild hall. Even as he thought of her coming sorrow, a pang of jealousy made his stomach churn.

"I don't know, but his Guildmagister will," said Jerric. "I'll pack up his things for you to send. To Leyawiin, in case you didn't bother to ask where he's from."

Deetsan led him to the basement stairs. "Vidkun was staying in the common quarters. While you're down there, do you suppose… Perhaps you should search Falcar's chamber for clues to where he has gone. If you find anything unusual, let me know. I'll include it in my letter to the Council of Mages."

"What are you afraid of down there, Deetsan? Are you going to wait to tell someone else what it is until after it kills me?"

"There may be another cursed object," one of the elves blurted.

"I'll put my Nord curse on you useless lot!" Jerric slammed his way to the basement.

It was obvious which of the sleeping nooks had been occupied by Vidkun. Jerric found an empty crate and packed up his belongings. In Falcar's richly appointed chamber he poked carefully through the cupboards and dressers. Deetsan could deal with the papers.

One of the drawers was locked. Jerric had a dagger out to pry it open before he remembered Volanaro had taught him the Latch Crack spell. Two dark-colored magicka gems rattled against each other when he opened the drawer.

These must be the black soul gems Darnand had told him about. Falcar was a necromancer. Jerric stood for a long moment arguing with himself. He could tell they held no energy, and that made them dangerous. Darnand would want to examine them. He could easily conceal one and give the other to Deetsan. Or fill one, then use it to enchant something. Perhaps a Water Breathing ring called Falcar.

What he should do was destroy them, but they were evidence for the Council of Mages. Both of them. Hopefully Deetsan was trustworthy.

Hauling the crate up the stairs, Jerric decided to set aside his pride. He would ask Trayvond to teach him a Feather spell.

Deetsan had moved to the second floor. Jerric placed the crate at her feet and fished in his pocket.

"What's this?" she gasped. "Black soul gems? Oh dear. This is worse than I'd expected. All right. I'll just take these from you. I'll need them for my report to the Council. Now, you didn't find any sort of recommendation? Very well, I shall write one myself, and include it in my report to the Council. In light of the circumstances, I believe they'll find it more than adequate."

"Deetsan. Have I asked anyone here for a recommendation?"

She gave herself a slight shake. "Apologies."

"I need one though. Thanks. My name is…" He raised his brows at her.

"Jerric." She patted his arm. "I'll go to my desk right now and write all this down."

Jerric nudged the crate with his foot. "And make a shipping label."

The moons were up when Jerric finally left the Mages Guild. He made his way to the river's edge and collapsed under a willow tree. Light from a guard's torch sent shadows dancing as she passed. Frogs made their lusty spring chorus in the rushes. A night bird called somewhere across the river, its song unfamiliar. Jerric waited to cast the summoning spell until his mind had quieted.

'Darnand.'

'I am here.'

Jerric took a deep breath and let it out, the Breton's presence a calm place in his awareness.

'I'm not coming straight back,' Jerric told him. 'I'm going to see Abiene.'

'What has occurred?'

'A friend of hers died at the Mages Guild here in Cheydinhal. On a rutting recommendation task. I don't want her to hear about it from some mages gossiping.'

'Nor from a letter, one supposes.'

'Yeah, nor from that way.'

'Abiene seldom goes to the Chorrol Mages Guild Hall,' Darnand said.

'That works in my favor. How's the reading project?'

'We would make swifter progress if some of my acquaintance were taken into our confidence. However in this I agree with Grandmaster Jauffre. The risk is too great.'

'How's our elf getting on with the Grandmaster?' asked Jerric.

'He has given her occupation. She has not shared the nature of her task.'

For a moment neither of them spoke.

'May I ask,' said Darnand, 'was it Vidkun?'

Jerric's jaw dropped. 'Yeah. How..?'

'Abiene and I have had occasion to speak in the years of our acquaintance, and you will recall that we share a set of crystal balls. She speaks warmly of those who are dear to her and delights in their accomplishments. I am sorry for her loss. I did not know him personally.'

'I fought at his side. He was a good man and he died badly. It was that fetcher Falcar. He laid a trap for him. It could just as easily have been me.' Jerric rubbed the spot between his brows. 'It should have been me. Then Vidkun would still be alive and we could split that corpse-humper Falcar in half like a dried-up wishbone.'

'My friend, you must have reason to think that.'

'Vidkun drowned. I have a Water Breathing ring.'

'That is terribly unfortunate,' said Darnand. 'However I deduce that Vidkun's drowning was not your doing. In the absence of my own wisdom, may I offer advice that I have been given? Do not pick up guilt that is not yours to carry.'

'And did you heed that advice?'

'At the time, I did not. Jerric, you referred to Falcar as a corpse-humper. Why?'

'He's a necromancer. I found some black soul gems in his room. Deetsan said he left in a fit, ranting about the guild's days were numbered.'

'The Bruma chapter's former Guildmagister left her position under similar circumstances,' said Darnand. 'A number of her fellow necromancers accompanied her.'

'Those are two thunderclaps from the same storm, I'd wager.'

'As would I. To my knowledge this is the first guild member death connected to the Arch-Mage's ban on necromancy.'

They spent another moment in silent company.

'Shall I pass along a message to anyone?' said Darnand.

'Yeah but just to Lil. I don't want the Grandmaster down your neck the next time we do this. So tell my horses I'll be back, and give my dog a kiss on the mouth for me.'

'She is not your dog. Should I attempt to conceal..?'

'Don't try to lie for me, but I appreciate the thought. A lot.'

[SubRosa]

"You got the weapons there and cleared the mine with no casualties," said Burz. "Better than I expected from you.
Wow, thanks for the show of confidence there Burz. If you did not expect him to be able to do the job, why did you send him to do it? Or could it be that you are just an asshole and can't resist the urge to disparage your employees?

Next on to the Mages Guild, where we play the age old game of "Guess which elf is Falcar?" Granted, it's a pretty easy game...

Goodness, this guy really thinks all humans look alike. Or maybe just all Nords? Oh goddess, not Deetsan too!

Well, we all knew what Jerric was going to find in the well. Vidkun's death brings extra punch, given that we actually met him the episode previous. We know him as a person, with a life, and a future. Now taken from him. One can certainly relate to Jerric's thinly contained bitterness afterward.

[Acadian]

Wow, those mages must have their noses pretty high to not tell one Nord from another.

SubRosa was right that it was a good choice on your part to give Vidkun some ink time before his unfortunate demise. Getting to know him a bit does indeed make Jerric’s pain over losing him more poignant.

Note to self: Avoid both the Fighters and Mages guildhalls in Chorrol.

[Burnt Sierra]

There's so many things I love about the way you do this story, but for this reply, I'm going to focus on the way you blend the events in game that everyone knows with the unexpected.

Like bringing an NPC found drowned in a well, and turning them into a character with a backstory that's been mentioned going back to the beginning. Allowing not only a little depth to the NPC, but also allowing Abiene to grow, and to show the similarities/contrast between Jerric and Vidkun. To then giving them a scene together, heightening the emotional impact. All from a dead NPC in a quest that most people probably shot through and never stopped to think any further about.

But, in my best TV commercial salesperson's voice, "that's not all!"

That same dead NPC now allows for you to subvert the expectations for the readers who did the quest. No longer is it about the player character getting the recommendation, but Vidkun. And how Falcar and Deetsan not even realising that Jerric ISN'T Vidkun, allowing a Tamrielic social commentary on how races are discriminated against or undervalued. And now setting up a difficult conversation for Jerric with Abiene, whilst still fitting into the overarching narrative of the Mythic Dawn and the rise of the Necromancers.

All from an NPC, dead in a well.

So impressive, and I'm enjoying it so much.

[Kane]

:/ Vidkun deserved better, even if he might have been a foil to Jerric. I've not played the Mages Guild quest line in Oblivion - is what happened with Falcar a part of it?

[ghastley]

Being familiar with the idea of a dead NPC getting a story (Kothet), I was about to write the same as burnt, until I noticed he'd already said it all. I should get here sooner next time.

[Renee]

I have a fear of heights, too, but it’s only bad when there’s nothing around like a railing to grab onto. So I would be crawling up the middle of that staircase, if I had to climb the Dawning Tower.

I've done that! Even in shopping mall escalators with handhold belts to hold onto, I'll sometimes keep my feet rooted in the middle of the steps, irrationally terrified of "falling" as the staircase climbs.

I also had a thought about the Twilight Queen's area, which I believe was described as lacking in decorations. Which makes sense because If their entire world can be mostly explored and viewed while flying, pictures and objets d' art and landscape paintings and such just aren't needed.

Am up to MOONSHADOW PART 7, pretty sure. Seems they are getting closer to Drozara. Eesh see, they're climbing into a cave or something. Already read this part, pretty sure! Darned stroke. -- Sorry.

Okay, they're in an underground conjunction area. What are Prowler's potions? I'm guessing night eye. Isn't Dozara a winged twilight? I agree this cave would be way awkward for her, terrrifying, even.

I wonder why they didn't send their monkey creatures in here."

Who or what are "they"? Sorry.

YIkes, they're getting bitten! -- Must be the figments or whatever. Ah I see, snakes! 🐍 How are they going up and down these underground shafts? Are they rappelling/using ropes?

Yeesh, lots of snakes, with wings, what the heck? Are these figments? UESP haasn't got any pictures or description of "figments". Yea, seems so, and Dozara has already been taken by them Oh gosh, figment queen!!!!

Okay, sounds like they've been bitten by some form of bats. Or "figments" seems the proper term. Jeez this is creepy!

Ah, here's the queen. Creepy [censored]. How are Jerric + friends getting out of this one???

Dang yep, I read & commented twice! - Sorry. I'm so useless these days!

Well good news is for sure my bookmark now goes here