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

[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

[Grits]

Previously: Jerric found Abiene’s ex-boyfriend Vidkun drowned in the Mages Guild well. He decided to give her the news in person before returning to Cloud Ruler Temple. Jerric contacted Darnand through their summoning spell. The two agreed that Falcar’s murderous shenanigans boded ill for the Mages Guild.

SubRosa: Burz seems to be exactly that kind of asshole. It’s not surprising that the Cheydinhal FG only has two members in the game, and Burz openly speaks badly of them. Deetsan is super happy to be in the Mages Guild according to town gossip, but she sounds like a nut when you first talk to her. I’ve always felt that Cheydinhal was pretty but a nice place to leave. I really liked Vidkun. I was tempted to give him some Cyrodiil CPR. Thank you, SubRosa!

Acadian: It’s funny to go from the empty Fighters Guild next door to the Mages Guild and find it packed with chatting mages. I’m sure they will do better under Deetsan’s leadership. It was fun to give Jerric and Vidkun their brief time together. I think they would have been friends given different circumstances. Thank you, Acadian!

Burnt Sierra: Gosh, you have highlighted everything that I hoped to bring out with the Vidkun/Jerric situation. Even the social commentary. This part has been a milestone in my head since the very beginning of the story. It feels a little strange to have it out on the page at last. Jerric has some things to work through on the way to his conversation with Abiene, and thinking things through is possibly his least favorite activity. Finally I can let Vidkun rest! Thank you, Burnt!

Kane: Yes, Falcar leaving the Mages Guild during the Cheydinhal recommendation quest is part of the Mages Guild questline. His dialog is pretty much straight from the game. After getting recommendations from all of the guild halls except Kvatch, the first quest from Raminus Polus at the Arcane University kicks off the questline plot. If you don’t do the Cheydinhal recommendation quest, Falcar just keeps hanging around the guild hall acting like a jerk. Thank you, Kane!

ghastley: Kothet, the Dremora in Skyrim! He started out dead in Prizna’s story, then spent the time between Oblivion and Skyrim being killed and reborn back into Tamriel! I remember him. I enjoyed his tower and Dremora housecarl mod. Thinking of the Hearthfire mods makes me want to play Skyrim. Thank you, ghastley!

Renee: That’s exactly what I was thinking about the Twilight throne area. The whole point is the view from up there, so they wouldn’t want a bunch of little stuff distracting from it. Prowler’s Potions are for Detect Life plus Nighteye. I remember it has rat meat in it. Don’t trust a potion from Jerric! "I wonder why they didn't send their monkey creatures in here" meant he wondered why the winged twilights (Dozara) didn’t send their scamp servants into the tunnels, since it would have been easier for scamps to climb around than for the twilights to do it. Team Jerric is free climbing and giving each other boosts, since the tunnels are very rough with a lot of hand and foot holds. Figments aren’t in the games, I made them up as creatures from Evergloam who are trying to sneak into Moonshadow. Thank you, Renee!

.

Chapter 20: The Well, Part Four

The moons lit his path as Jerric walked back to the Fighters Guild Hall. He stood outside for a time looking over the river and up at the snowy Valus mountains. Vidkun's cold skin and cloudy eyes filled his mind. Drowning was no way for a Nord to die. Would Vidkun get his chance to stand before Shor? There is nothing more you can do for him tonight.

Inside, Grayne sat at the dining table. Nereli sat beside her, petting Clancy. She wore a black and gold medallion on an intricate chain.

"I'm glad to see you," Jerric said to her.

"You don't look glad," said Nereli.

Grayne acknowledged Jerric with a nod. "I'll make my rounds. Clancy, let's go."

Jerric filled a goblet for himself and topped off Nereli's. "Dame Nereli, Knight of the Thorn." They drank the toast. Jerric refilled their goblets.

"What's happened to you?" said Nereli.

"I'm not a vampire, if that's what you're asking." Jerric drained his goblet. "You go first."

She lifted the medallion. "As you guessed, Sir Farwil made it official. And then his father Count Indarys gave me their family staff as a reward for saving his life."

"Well earned."

"Their lodge is pretty much a drinking club."

"Your lodge." Jerric raised his goblet again.

"I suppose. They have plenty of gold to spend on it, but no one's even set up a training area. The basement is a wine cellar." She looked at him for a moment without speaking. "I'm going to try to make this work, I think."

"I believe you can, and I believe you'll know if it turns out not to be worth it. Just don't let that loudmouth get you killed."

Nereli nodded slowly. "Or the rest of us. I talked to Brem for a while today. He says Farwil has a good heart, he's just young and inexperienced. Anyway the knights that are left made me Quartermaster. That's second in command, and our Knight Commander doesn't really do anything but brag. So I think I can make something out of this order. Starting with the kind of new members we recruit. Fewer petty nobles and their lickspittles, and more regular folk who want a chance to step up. The Indarys family is House Hlaalu. I was trained in House Redoran. I didn't mention that, of course."

"I don't know much about the Great Houses."

"It doesn't matter. I just mean that I already know what needs to be done, and Farwil has never had an idea that didn't come from a storybook."

Jerric leaned back to grab another bottle. "I want to hear about all of your plans."

~~~

Despite a late night with Nereli, Jerric got up at dawn to take a position by the Fighters Guild door. He passed the time with a plate of cold mutton and a steaming tankard of kahve. When Burz crashed down the stairs, Jerric was there to meet him.

The Orsimer curled his lip. "Speak, snowman, or stop wasting my time."

"I want an escort job to Chorrol, or anywhere on the way."

"Two contracts in two days? You must want to be Guildmaster. Ha!"

"I just want to get paid." Last night an idea had come to him as if spoken aloud by Vidkun. It would take most of his gold.

"Escort contracts pay when you get them there alive."

"Yeah. My Chorrol wages will fund the trip home."

"I don't need your life story, meat. Get the details from Mercer." He slammed out the door.

The porter let out a long sigh. "Let's look at the book. And I have a packet you can deliver to the Chorrol chapter if you want a little extra gold."

"If it's ready to go, then yes."

Twenty minutes later, Jerric stepped into the Cheydinhal Bridge Inn. The noise level suggested it was at capacity. At the desk an Imperial woman with thick brows and a brutal haircut looked him over.

"I'm Jerric. Of the Fighters Guild."

"Marianna Ancharis, proprietor. We've no beds for Nords, but I'll let you sleep on the floor in the storeroom for a good price."

"I don't need one, I'm here for— What do you mean, no beds for Nords?"

"I can sell two spots in a bed for the space you'll take. Why shouldn't I?"

"Why shouldn't I give you a beating?" Jerric straightened his Fighters Guild tabard. "Ma'am?"

"You are welcome to try."

"Not today, I'm on a contract. I'm here to see Cevin Geles."

"He's probably in there. Help yourself."

"What does he look like?"

"Skinny lad. Brown hair." She flicked a hand as if shooing an insect. "You know, a Breton."

Jerric walked into the lounge. The seats were filled with folk eating breakfast. Children played on the floor, most quietly. There were enough Dunmer in the mix to make him think he was back in Blacklight.

"I'm Jerric," he announced to the room. "From the Fighters Guild."

In the far corner a teenager stood up. He gave a small wave.

Jerric made his way to him, stepping over kids and baggage.

The lad wiped his palms on his robe as Jerric approached. He had light blue eyes and a complexion that spoke of store-bought soap and libraries. "I'm Cevin Geles," he said, extending a hand. "Thank you for meeting me."

Jerric gave the hand a careful shake. "Pleased to meet you. Do you want to talk here, or..?"

"Let's step outside." Cevin hiked a pack onto his back, slung a bag across one shoulder, and picked up two satchels. He looked like a field mouse bringing home an ogre's breakfast.

"Want me to take some of that?" Jerric asked.

"No thank you, I can manage."

They strolled to a spot under willow trees by the chapel bridge. Cevin put down his burdens.

"I'm told you want to get to Chorrol," said Jerric.

"Yes. I live there." Cevin chewed the edge of his lip.

"Look, I'm not some marauder. You're young, you're alone, and I look like something your ma warned you about. But I'm a member of the Fighters Guild and of the Mages Guild, and I mean you no harm. If you need help against something dangerous, you have to find something else that's dangerous. It doesn't have to be me."

Cevin's shoulders lifted when he took a breath. "You're right. I've never been this alone. I traveled with a caravan from Mournhold, but there was an ambush as we crossed the border."

"I'm sorry you had to see that."

"You want to know how I survived. That's what everyone asks me."

"Well, yeah. That did cross my mind."

"I don't want to talk about it," said Cevin.

"Fair enough. I guess you're not going to murder me in my sleep out on the road. You're not a vampire, are you?"

"No. Are you?"

"Ha!" said Jerric. "Do you have a horse?"

"No. But I have gold. Not on my person! I'll have to stop at the bank."

"Why haven't you joined another caravan? It would be easier than riding and cheaper than hiring your own guard."

Cevin looked like he might vomit. He shook his head.

"All right," said Jerric. "Are you ready to go?"

"Yes. I've already paid Mistress Ancharia for tonight, but it would be beyond pointless to attempt a refund from that grasping mediocrist. I am ready."

Jerric picked up his bags.

"Wait," said Cevin. "Actually I need to use the privy first."

The Black Waterside Stable was difficult to reach, as guarded picket lines still stretched out on all sides but one. They picked their way through a jumble of haphazardly parked carriages.

Jerric approached the ostler, mentally rehearsing his lines. "Morning, Tovas. Remember me? I'm here to settle my bill."

The Dunmer stepped into the office, gesturing for Jerric to follow.

Belatedly Jerric realized he had not explained the plan to Cevin. "Wait out here," he told the lad, dropping his packs.

Tovas ran a finger down the ledger. "Uh…"

"Vidkun."

"Right."

"Of Leyawiin."

"Got it." Tovas wrote down a figure then slid the book around, pointing to it. Jerric handed over the coins, and Tovas marked his page. "Go out to the corral. Mivryna will have him saddled and ready for you."

The two stepped back outside. "We also need to rent a horse," Jerric said. "We'll return it at North Country Stable."

"We're not taking assignments in that direction right now."

"Are you jesting?" said Jerric. "You have three picket lines and a paddock full of horses!"

"Most of them are boarding, and I'm not letting any of mine out on rent. We've had too many losses what with daedra about. Even some of those lasses from the Black Horse Courier have died along with their mounts."

"Then I shall purchase one," said Cevin. "Show me what you have available."

Jerric's brows went up. Well, the lad said he had gold in the bank.

"You won't be sorry," said Tovas. "The black horses of Cheydinhal are the fastest, toughest, most reliable horses in Cyrodiil."

Within the hour Cevin's new black mare was saddled and ready next to Vidkun's tall dapple gray. The two mounted up and moved out to the road.

"What's her name?" Jerric asked.

"Sable," said Cevin, wide-eyed. "What is yours called?"

Jerric's mind was a blank. "Smoke, uh, Smokey. Smoke."

They rode for a time in silence. The surge of traffic following the Gate's closure had dissipated. This morning they passed few other riders and fewer on foot.

"I hope you have provisions," said Cevin. "I had to empty my account."

Jerric decided not to jest about cooking the expensive new horse. "We can camp, I can fish, and you don't look like you eat much. Should be fine."

They were for the most part fine through the days and nights down the Blue Road, cutting across to the Red Ring Road, around to the Black Road, and most of the way through the Great Forest. Jerric kept his head down as they passed Weynon Village with its Priory. He did not want another meeting with Brother Venco.

It wasn't until the outskirts of Chorrol that they saw one. Black clouds boiled in a lightning-slashed sky, while a tooth-aching whine pierced their eardrums. A pane of fire stood vertically on a circle of blasted earth. They had found a Gate to Oblivion.

.

This post has been edited by Grits: Aug 12 2025, 03:43 PM

[ghastley]

I thought for a moment that you'd re-opened a closed gate, but the earlier one was the other side of the Odill farm.
However, this must be the outside the city that you can see from the gate, so have you changed the timing in Jerric's world so it opens later?

The mention of a caravan being ambushed is suggesting an extra connection will be revealed soon, too. And is Cevin an Imperial or a Breton?

[SubRosa]

Looks like Nereli is going to make the most of the opportunity before her. Good! She can turn the Knights of the Thorn into a real force, and might even help Farwil grow up.

People really don't like Nords around here. I do like (as in appreciate, not think it is wonderful) that you are displaying the Nords as suffering the brunt of prejudice that is usually assigned to other groups. It is a nice change, and as always it helps illustrate what living under that prejudice feels like.

So Jerric is going to escort Kevin Bacon to Chorrol.

I love his plan to become Vidkun, in order to use his horse. No point letting a good mount go to waste. And he can always count on no one being able to tell one Nord from another.

Well, for once Jerric had a nice quiet journey somewhere. Wait, what am I saying! Of course he could not make it all the way to his destination without some sort of trouble plaguing him. I swear, he is at bad as traveling as Tom Hanks (don't ever get on a plane or boat with that guy, because it's going to crash, or be hijacked, or something...)

[Acadian]

Well, by Julianos’ little teapot! Nereli is going to try and make something of that prissy knight club. And I bet she’ll succeed!

Urgh, Burz continues to impress – not!

’He had light blue eyes and a complexion that spoke of store-bought soap and libraries.’
- - A wonderfully creative and evocative description! Then it just gets better as you liken him to a field mouse bringing home an ogre’s breakfast.

A great idea to exploit the ‘all Nords look alike to Dunmer’ phenomenon and claim Vidkun’s horse.

Ahhh, Cevin reminds me of Buffy as he forked over every bit of his gold to the Cheydinhal stable for a precious black mare.

If Jerric decides to close that gate (and I bet he will), Cevin should be placed safely on horse-watching duty well away from the gate.