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!
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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.'