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

[Kane]

Bah, nothing is ever easy and now Abiene must reseat a horseshoe! Hopefully it will be filled with more luck going forward!

[Renee]

Chapter 19: Moonshadow, Part Eight -- Jerric's party fights the queen, yikes! I'm having trouble picturing what she looks like but Jer calls her a slug as she passes by, so... yuck!

. More thoughts than he was used to having flashed through his mind. -- ha ha, love that! Still, it's remarkable he's fighting the giant pretty much one-on-one.

You didn't crack your head in that fall?" Kjestrid asked. "You've taken a hell of a chance coming all this way without a helmet."

"Must have tucked my chin. I get a lot of practice hitting the ground. Besides, I have a helm waiting for me..." He grinned.

"Back in Bruma," Kjestrid finished. "I swear by the gods I'm going to burn that cupboard."

What's the cupboard reference?

Chapter 19: Moonshadow, Part Nine

What is the tattoo Jerric received? ...is receiving, since it's being done in stages?

I love the description of how countryside morphs into cityscape.

I AM HERE -- Moon shadow part 10

This post has been edited by Renee: Oct 6 2025, 06:38 PM

[Grits]

Previously: Abiene, Dar-Ma, Toby, and Blossom began their journey to Hackdirt. Outside Weynon camp Abiene learned that Valdi had been there but moved on. Just before they reached the first ford, Toby lost a shoe in the mud.

treydog: One of the things I love about Cyrodiil is how beautiful the land is. And the sky. And then every twenty feet, something tries to kill you. It has been interesting to spend time in Abiene’s point of view as she is not a participant in the save-the-world plan. Her focus is what she can do with her own hands, which looks increasingly small as she sees what’s happening outside her area of influence. I wonder what she'll do about it? Thank you, treydog!

Acadian: I think it would be especially awful to come from a culture that’s known for living off the land but be unable or too frightened to go out and get your own food. That was on Lildereth’s mind at Hrotanda Vale when she told Jerric about early spring being the time of empty bellies. Good for Abiene keeping her seat, but she got muddy anyway! “Naked as a newt” still makes me giggle. Thank you, Acadian!

SubRosa: At age twelve and five foot seven I was put on a very tall trail horse and told his name was Widowmaker. I don’t remember his real name, but I still remember that wrangler cackling! He was a pure sweetie and we rode together for a straight week in the Tetons. I always had to find a log or a big rock to mount. I suspect that the adults in our group did not have the hip flexibility to scale Mount Widowmaker, and so they gave him to me. I had the best view from way up there! Thank you, Rosa!

Kane: Ha, I didn’t think about horseshoes and luck! Hopefully she is carrying it the right way up. Thank you, Kane!

Renee: The figment queen looks like a giant snake with a humanoid head and torso and wings instead of arms. Jerric called her a slug to make her mad and get her attention away from Kjestrid and Shamir-do while they were defenseless from her Fear spell. I agree, yuck!

Here’s the history of the cupboard reference: When the group left Bruma Jerric expected to spend that night at Cloud Ruler Temple, so he left most of his gear in a cupboard at the Bruma Fighters Guild. After they got poisoned by figment venom, Jerric mentioned that he had Cure Poison potions back in his cupboard. Kjestrid turned it into a joke when they needed a light source, saying don’t tell me you have torches back in your cupboard (or something like that). In that last section Jerric kept it going by mentioning his missing helmet. He left the helmet behind because it’s his Blades helm that he was told to leave at Weynon Priory so that he wouldn’t be recognized, but he had Lildereth go steal it back for him both because he needed it and so that he could let her in on the plot to save the world without actually telling her. So at the time he didn’t want to wear it in front of Jauffre since he wasn’t supposed to have it.

He's having multiple sessions on the tattoo, and he doesn’t know what it is yet since it’s on his back. Kjestrid said he’d just have to trust her. Eventually he will find out and show it to his friends. And probably a lot of other people, as he tends to take off his shirt. Thank you, Renee!


Everyone: I need a little more time with the next update, so I’ll post on Wednesday this week. (Or at least that’s the plan.) I have been off on adventures! And tomorrow I’ll be off on another one! Good times for Grits, bad times for editing.

[Burnt Sierra]

Hm. There's a conspiracy afoot!!! Could it be that the secret hidden villain of this story is... stablemaster's? With their ability to muddle minds and confuse names? After all, we learned from ESO the power of Nymic's (learning a Daedra's true name!)

"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."

Bongond spoke as they approached me. "There are no finer chestnut horses in all of Cyrodiil than you will find at North Country Stables, but Widowmaker here is faster than any of my breeding. Not as hardy, but he'll carry you where you want to go before you know you've left."
White stockings flashed as the horse high-stepped to a halt beside the Dunmer. A matching star blazed on his forehead.
"Widowmaker?"
Bongond's cheeks flushed a darker gray. "That was a jest. This one's called Cyrus."
"He looks as if his name is Thunder," I said, offering him my hand. "Or perhaps Lightning."
"Well, what is his name?" I asked Nardhil. "Is it Cyrus or is it Theodore?"
"It's Toby," said Nardhil.

That's the only conclusion I can draw. The Oblivion crisis has unleashed a series of covert Daedric Stablemasters, who have infiltrated society and are weakening the resistance with nefarious Illusion magic.

Or maybe not.

We're edging ever closer to Hackdirt, and are seeing some nice contrasts between the present and the past here. The hardship of the refugee camps, reminiscing about paddling in puddles, even the land itself. I particularly enjoyed this:

I could see antelope and deer, and once a shy fox dashed across the road. This was cattle country, with most of the farmland farther south and at a lower elevation. Farmers tended to stay close to the roads with their Imperial Legion protection. The ranchers kept their own law, or so I had been told. These days folk were more concerned about daedra than ogres, trolls, or goblins, but our old enemies still lived all around us, perhaps closer than we knew. The daedra had disrupted Tamriel's way of life whether civilized, uncivilized, or wild.

Now, close to the goal, even the mud seems to be trying to warn them not to go further... (And I got this in just before the update Bless your real life adventures!)

[Grits]

Beach day was a blast!

Burnt Sierra: Perhaps the horses are daedra who won't let their true names be known. Just wait until the gang starts trying to name cats! If Abiene was the sensible friend in a movie she would have suggested they turn back by now. Too bad Dar-Ma is also not the sensible friend. Thank you, Burnt!

.

Chapter 21: Underneath, Part Seven

Magnus cast our shadows in front of us as Toby and I turned onto the Fort Carmala Road. Finding the shoe had been a quick and muddy business. Cleaning myself up had taken longer than I hoped. Convincing Toby to continue in a reasonable manner without one shoe had proven impossible.

"It's no use," I said. "I could keep him under a Command spell, but I'm concerned that then I wouldn't know if he actually did manage to damage his foot."

Toby tossed his head up and down, snorting. He took a sideways step on the bare foot, then lifted it up as if the soft ground was made of swords.

Dar-Ma stroked Blossom's neck, her head-fins halfway flattened. "Is it hurt, though? He's acting like it's hurt."

"No. He's just being dramatic." I took a slow breath and let it out. "I don't want to count on finding a farrier in Hackdirt. I know there will be one at Fort Carmala." I looked over at my young friend. "We have a decision to make."

Dar-Ma rubbed her chin spines for a moment. "Let's put some of Toby's packs on Blossom. I'll keep going and you take care of Toby. Blossom will go slower and you will have a chance to catch up."

"I'm worried that it will take longer than we think."

"I'll have to do this run by myself the next time," Dar-Ma said. "And probably leading a pack horse. I might as well be brave now as later."

I exchanged glares with Toby, then stepped forward to hug dear Dar-Ma. "Next time get a pack mule instead."

As Toby and I topped a hill, a crumbling stone gateway came into view. Two legionaries stood one on either side of a movable wooden barrier. The soldier on the left was taller than the one on the right, but otherwise I could not distinguish between them. I led Toby straight up to them and halted at the one on the left's gesture.

"Identify yourself," he said, his tone neutral and his accent Bravilian.

"I'm Abiene Metonne, healer at the Chapel of Stendarr in Chorrol."

"State your business."

I supposed that there was no custom whereby a Legion official introduced himself to random women at the gate, so I established one. "Of course. May I please know your names?"

"Corporal Guntien," said the man on the right. "This here is Corporal Hertzog."

I wondered for an instant if Hertzog was a Nord. "How do you do?"

"I'm fine," said Corporal Hertzog. He looked over at his companion.

"How do you do?" said Corporal Guntien, shaking his head at Hertzog.

Definitely a Nord. "My horse threw a shoe," I said, gesturing to Toby's bare foot. "I have the shoe and he's uninjured, but I'd like to have it back on so I may resume my journey. My friend continued on without us, you see. I don't want to leave her alone tonight."

The two men spent a moment looking me over, then looking Toby over, and then glancing at one another.

"What's in the packs?" said Guntien.

"Mostly trade goods from Seed-Neeus, who is the owner and proprietor of Northern Trade Goods in Chorrol. I'm told the bridge to Hackdirt washed out, so I am helping her daughter Dar-Ma pack her goods in for trade." I patted my satchel. "This bag is mine."

The two men exchanged another look. Then Hertzog moved the barrier, while Guntien waved me through with a crisp motion from the elbow.

"Follow the signage to the farrier," Guntien said. "Don't attempt to sell your goods or unpack your bags. If you decide to do some healing, report to the healer's tents inside the bailey wall. Whores work on the other side. If that's why you're really here, just go straight over and they'll get you sorted."

"Thank you," I said, inwardly rolling my eyes at the notion that I might need to contrive a purpose for coming to a Legion outpost if I intended prostitution. It also pricked my pride that healers and whores seemed to rank the same here. But perhaps the two groups simply needed similar access for the troops and similar security measures.

"I know that lizard," said Hertzog. "She sold me a necklace for my wife's birthday. Drove a hard bargain, but the gold is real just like she said. I had it tested by a mage."

"She is a fair and reliable trader," I replied, wondering if I was representing Seed-Neeus appropriately now that I had invoked her name. The ways of the merchant class did not rank high among my interests.

Fort Carmala was largely a ruin, but a round tower still stood with a wing extending on either side. Gaps had been patched in some places with old stones reset with new mortar and in other places simply with wood. A stockade fence blocked off the tower's entrance, and I could see another checkpoint whose guards presumably had more rigorous qualifying procedures. Tents laid out in blocks stood on the open ground that must have once been the bailey. A lower, split-rail fence protected them from the chaos of random traffic.

Posts stood at every junction, hosting signs clustered like shelf mushrooms. Toby and I followed the guide fence to the smithy, which was located beyond the stone building's left-hand wing. From here there was ready access to a dirt road that ran past the fort. I suspected that civilians with regular business here knew to gain entry from this side road rather than answering questions at the outer gate.

The farrier operated out of a low, open-sided barn. A handful of young men and women bustled about at the business of horses. I explained my situation and was told to wait. Within twenty minutes a Nord woman in a leather apron approached me.

She spoke in a voice that carried. "You're the healer?"

"Yes." I stroked my palm down Toby's neck, under his mane. "My horse threw a shoe on the trail. He behaved as if his leg had come off at the knee. I don't know the trail ahead or if there's a farrier in Hackdirt, so I brought him here. Can you see to him?"

"Aye. What's his name?"

"Toby."

"Let's have a look, big fella." The Nord took Toby's lead, holding her other hand out to me palm up without a glance or comment.

I stared at her dumbly for a breath. "Oh! Of course." I handed her the horse shoe. As she led Toby away to her work area I glanced around, looking for a place that might be more appropriate to wait.

An Argonian lass in an apprentice's tunic placed herself in front of me, chin down and eyes wide. "Miss, can you help with something?"

I schooled my features into a healer's calm mask. "What is troubling you?"

"I'd rather not say, but I'll show you."

That sounded like the cue for a prank, but the girl's age and situation let me abandon caution. As an apprentice she was practically owned by her mistress. Several reasons came to mind why she would not want to be treated by a Legion medic. I guessed that she knew my horse was being shod at that very moment. No doubt the farrier's projected announcement of my profession was for the benefit of her apprentice.

"All right. I'm Abiene. What's your name?"

"Dew-Shine."

"How lovely!" I followed her around the structure and behind a stack of firewood.

"Thank you!" Without warning Dew-Shine hiked down her trousers and lifted her tail. "I don't have any coin," she directed up at me from between her knees.

The trouble was readily evident to the eye. I gripped her tail near the tip and sent my healing light spiraling toward its base. The spell confirmed my guess from the visual assessment.

"This is what we might call an overuse injury," I said. "If you expect the situation that contributed to your condition to recur-- "

"Oh, I do," Dew-Shine chirped. "We really like each other."

"I assume that your partner is not Saxhleel. While the two of you are not physically incompatible, you must be careful not to neglect lubrication. Shall I explain?"

Wide-eyed, she nodded yes and then no, still gazing upside down from her inverted position.

I took that as her understanding my advice and having the situation managed. Though she hadn't asked, I quickly checked her for unseen problems through my spell. I found only old fractures, probably from childhood and neatly healed. Relieved that I had not found evidence of abuse, I stepped back. "You're all set."

"Thank you, Miss Abiene!" Dew-Shine gave a little hop as we parted ways.

I smiled to myself, thinking of Dar-Ma bravely continuing on toward Hackdirt. Whatever her name meant in Jel, I hoped it was as sweet and lovely as 'Dew-Shine.'

The Nord woman had finished with Toby. I paid her and retraced our steps back out to the road. The sun had lowered alarmingly close to the mountains. Sunset was a rapid affair in this type of high country, with none of the Gold Coast's long dance of dusk.

The two legionaries still stood at their posts. I dismounted and approached them.

"Hello," I said.

Hertzog gave me a nod. Guntien, who had advised me in the event that I might like to try some prostitution or healing, said, "Hello again, Miss Metonne."

I realized that I had in fact defied his order and conducted a healing outside the confines of the designated healing area and without the permission of the Legion healer in charge of this battalion. The formality of military procedures contrasted with the nature of the treatment I had enacted behind the wood stacks put a twinkle in my eye.

"I have to get to Hackdirt as soon as possible." I pointed. "I came by that road, but I don't want to retrace my steps unless I have to. I'm told that a bridge is out. Is there a way to cut a corner, perhaps?"

"How well do you know the woods?" said Guntien.

"Not at all, but I can follow a trail, and I can ride without one."

"Do you have a bit of parchment?"

My face must have conveyed my dismay. I had not packed anything extra, not even a face cloth. The thought of rummaging through Seed-Neeus's packs in the hope that I could liberate one of her packing slips did not appeal.

Hertzog stepped behind the crumbling stone wall. Sounds of rummaging ensued. He returned with a well-scraped fragment of hide and a bit of charcoal.

The three of us put our heads together over the hide. Toby's breath on my neck told me that he had included himself. Guntien laid the hide over his raised knee and made marks on it while Hertzog supplemented his efforts with gestures and muttered remarks.

"Here's the creek where the bridge is out," Guntien explained, pointing to his map. "Here's the road right here where we're standing, turn left that's to the south. Right here you need to watch and turn off the road onto the trail. You'll see three diagonal blazes right corner down if you're watching."

"If you come to a creek with stone pillars and no bridge, you've gone too far," Hertzog said.

"Follow the trail through the woods. I didn't put the curves in, and this map is not to scale."

"How long should it take me to travel from here to here?" I asked, pointing.

Hertzog gave me one of those deliberately patient looks. "Well miss, that depends on how fast you're going."

I dug my fingers into my palms to keep from slapping my forehead. "Yes, thank you. Let us assume I'm riding this horse as quickly as is safe under current conditions."

"You'll go slower after dark," said Hertzog.

I wondered if perhaps he was addressing Toby.

"You'll travel into the night to get there," Guntien said. "Are you sure you don't want to stay at the camp and go in the morning, miss? With the daedra about we've seen a lot of deaths on the roads."

I swallowed the lump in my throat, but it turned into butterflies in my stomach. "I am a University-trained mage," I said, failing to not sound stuffy.

Hertzog snorted. "Then you'd better stay," he said, shoving an elbow against Guntien's armored side.

Hertzog had a point, but I would not leave Dar-Ma to a night of doubt over my fate. "Thank you for your help, gentlemen." Toby moved into mounting position at my slightest touch. "May I have a leg up?"

.

This post has been edited by Grits: Oct 8 2025, 04:44 PM

[treydog]

I always enjoy these moments of "The Real, Exciting Adventures in the Life of a Healer". Your world-building and attention to detail are both wonderful and bring the story to vivid life.

Two quotes that stand out particularly:

"How long should it take me to travel from here to here?" I asked, pointing.

Hertzog gave me one of those deliberately patient looks. "Well miss, that depends on how fast you're going."

Reminds me of how directions are provided here in my part of the southeast... "Well, you go past the barn that isn't there any more...."

And then there is the response of a world-weary Legionnaire to the idea that education might be a shield against reality...

I swallowed the lump in my throat, but it turned into butterflies in my stomach. "I am a University-trained mage," I said, failing to not sound stuffy.

Hertzog snorted. "Then you'd better stay," he said, shoving an elbow against Guntien's armored side.

[SubRosa]

I did not see this coming. The misfortune with the shoe has led our heroines to split up (they can do more damage that way... ) This means Dar-Ma will complete the journey to Hackdirt alone. Oh my.

Well, at least Abiene was not greeted by vampires at Fort Carmala. That is an improvement.

So Werner Hertzog is serving at the fort? This must be before he began his career in film.

And some discreet healing for the young lady. No matter where she goes, Abiene is Abiene. I have to say, that was exactly the sort of issue I expected Dew Shine to have, given her demeanor.

Hertzog does not seem to be too impressed with Abiene's University training!

Well, with some directions and a leg up, Abiene is off!

[Acadian]

Dar-Ma made the unlikely decision to continue alone sound almost reasonable, but I wish she had stayed with Abiene.

Good fortune getting into the Legion Fort and finding the farrier. I suppose some third degree was unavoidable.

Healers are always in demand – even at the busy blacksmith's. Abiene meets Lifts-Her-Tail. . . er, I mean Dew-Shine and after a bit of discrete magic, Dew-Shine is ready to continue her boisterous romance – hopefully with a bit more care.

Abiene has found herself in what is shaping up to be a solo arrival in Hackdirt under darkness. It just gets more ominous!

[Grits]

Previously: Toby threw a fit about his missing shoe, so Abiene took him back to Fort Carmala to have it put back on. Dar-Ma and Blossom continued toward Hackdirt. With the shoe restored and the sun setting, Abiene and Toby took off on a shortcut to catch up.

treydog: Thank you, treydog! Abiene experiences the world so differently from Jerric, it has been fun to spend time with her. Hertzog was Guard #2 in the draft, and then he stood up and became a comedian. His muttered remarks probably included "past where we killed that ogre" or the like. And yes, I imagine he worried that Abiene's education only gives her the false confidence to get into trouble, despite his jesting. (I've been on the receiving end of that notion, and it was not always wrong!)

SubRosa: Yep, Dar-Ma and Abiene continue to disobey the rules of surviving a horror movie! No vampires in this Fort Carmala, I expect the Legion cleared them out when they decided to use the ruins. I wonder if they found the Shadowbanish wine? (And I wonder how many adventurers Nerussa has out looking for it?) Thank you, SubRosa!

Acadian: I'm sure both Dar-Ma and Abiene will soon regret splitting up, if they don't already! I wish the game gave us Legion outposts, at least for the Foresters and the Legion Riders. Dew-Shine has probably advanced her next date to tonight, thanks to Abiene's intervention! Thank you, Acadian!

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Chapter 21: Underneath, Part Eight

By the time I nudged Toby onto the Hackdirt road, Magnus had slipped near the horizon. Despite his packs Toby carried me along without apparent effort, his long legs fairly eating the distance. The soft earth and decaying leaves muffled the sound of our passing.

We slowed as the trail dipped into the first ford. I urged Toby up over the roadside ridge before we reached the mud where he had lost his shoe. You should have done this the first time, I scolded myself. Then you would be almost to Hackdirt by now, and Dar-Ma would have no worries when darkness falls and she and Blossom are alone.

But they wouldn't be alone. They would be in a town with an inn and at least one shop whose proprietor would be expecting her. Dar-Ma made her own decision to carry on with Blossom. Suggesting that we stay together would have implied a lack of confidence in her ability to make deliveries for the business that would one day be hers. Despite my nameless misgivings, I had done the right thing in for once controlling my urge to meddle.

Toby interrupted my musings by scraping his bridle against a tree as we passed.

"None of that!" I gave his shoulder a firm pat. "See, I'm paying attention now. Let's have no nonsense in this ford."

The trail on the ford's far side was firm enough to support Toby's swift canter. The hills swelled more steeply here, their crests lightly wooded and the hollows choked with trees. The sun's setting rays painted the clouds in bursts of color. First yellow as the sun itself, then brilliant orange, and finally pink against a star-flecked, purple canvas as the day's light died. Secunda was already high in the sky, and near full. I knew that Masser, still below the horizon, was a waning crescent. Secunda's cycle was in our favor. The daylight may be gone, but tonight's best light was now.

I slowed Toby to a brisk walk and cast a spell to detect life signs. I had altered the standard Detect Life spell — at the Arcane University's Praxographical Center, Corporal Hertzog! — to suit my needs. Small life signs even up to the size of a fox went undetected, but larger ones were visible farther away than I could see in this light. Details were indistinct, so I had to guess at what sort of creature's life energy I saw. The deer and antelope moved the same as they had at twilight, so it was easy to identify them in the meadows. The larger shapes settled under trees might be cattle. If I saw a predator or anything on two legs we would go out of our way to avoid it.

With nightfall spring peepers began their trilling song, and I heard some other tree creatures' chorus that sounded like a thumbnail drawn over a comb's teeth. I recognized the soft calls of mourning doves and the faraway bark of a fox. An owl hooted directly over our heads, making me jump. Another answered from somewhere behind us. Toby lifted his feet higher than necessary, almost prancing along. Though I saw no signs of danger, my stomach knotted.

The trail dipped to cross another stream. Did this count as a ford? Hadn't we already made all of the crossings before the turnoff? I had been watching for blazes cut into a tree, but I could not promise that I hadn't missed them. Just as I began to debate whether to turn around and retrace our steps, I saw a swath of moonlight ahead. The merry song of rippling water became audible over the night insects as we approached.

Here the creek flowed swiftly between high banks. Symmetrical lumps stood in pairs on both sides of the trail, shrouded in vines and moss. As we halted at the dropoff, I realized what I was seeing.

"If you come to a creek with stone pillars and no bridge, you've gone too far." Corporal Hertzog's words had become a prophecy. I had not only missed the trail marked with three blazes that was to have been my shortcut, but also the turnoff that Dar-Ma must have taken with Blossom hours ago in daylight.

The bridge's span was gone without a trace. Whatever aids Ravenna and the girls had used to cross, they must have taken with them. But somehow, even burdened by packs and two of them with child, they had managed it.

Looking at the steep banks, I had an idea. Seed-Neeus had planned our route with her daughter's safety in mind. This crossing was certainly impassible for Seed-Neeus and her wagon, and ill-advised for Dar-Ma and her heavily loaded mare. But I had fewer packs and a mount who was built for a steeplechase. The banks were too far apart to attempt the jump, but in several places the floods had scoured them clean of brush. He may be able to get down, cross the stream, and then leap back up.

I left Toby under a Command spell to keep him from wandering and found a place where I thought he could make it. There I scramble-slid down the bank.

At the water's edge I paused. My charmed bracelet kept me dry in the heaviest rain, but immersing my legs in the water would prove too much for the enchantment. I did not wish to ride the rest of the way soaked to the knee or worse, depending on the stream's depth. The solution was simple. I could cast a Water Walk spell and stay atop the moving stream. It would take some quick stepping to keep the ripples from tripping me up, but I came from a county where waterways were as useful as roads. I was well practiced at water-walking.

I raised a hand and cast Sea Stride on myself. The magicka floated down and swirled into a spiral around me, coating my body in a teal shimmer. To help me assess the creek for crossing, I also cast a spell of Starlight. The mountain-clear water looked sickeningly greenish under its light.

Short, quick strides kept me on my feet as I stepped out onto the water's surface. I hop-trotted into the middle of the stream, examining what I could see of the stream bed for submerged rocks, logs, holes, and unexpectedly soft areas that looked smooth against the rocky creek bed. The stream was swifter than I had thought and deeper than I had hoped.

I paced across once and then back again, charting a broad path that I might ride Toby through. The stream bank on the far side rose just as steeply. We would have a hard scramble to the top, but there was plenty of space between the trees.

As I returned to Toby, a crawling sensation crept down my back and up my neck. You are no clairvoyant, I told myself, just a silly person if you are afraid of the dark.

It's not the dark but what's in it, answered a deeply buried, childish part of my mind.

I had reached the brightly moonlit center of the stream when the spring peepers ceased their song. Then the insects went silent. My feet stopped involuntarily, causing me to slide sideways downstream.

As I lost my footing a night bird screeched on the far bank. I went to one knee, my startled shriek answering its cry. Another bird called in the woods behind it. My hands pressed into the stream's flexible surface, I staggered to my feet, inwardly cursing.

Over the stream's cheerful song I heard a shuffle on the ground near the night bird, and the wet crack of a fallen branch underfoot. Under what feet? The natural moonlight and my Starlight spell combined to cast confusing shadows, but I saw no…

My Detect Life spell had lapsed. I recast, struggling to concentrate as my feet scrambled on the moving stream.

A Nord-sized purple glow flared into sight, standing under a tree at the bank's edge.

My limbs froze, and my stomach felt as if it had flipped. The moving water swung me downstream again, breaking my line of sight. I sprinted back to my side of the stream. By the time my fingers dug into the wet bank, my wits had returned. Toby remained at the washed out bridge, the spell overriding his will. I must reach him.

At the top of the bank I turned, a Fear spell ready in my hand. The figure stood still and silent. Behind it at a distance, three smaller life forms moved up and down, rising swiftly to a height and then drifting back to the ground.

What were they? Why were they doing that?

Before I could take another breath, one floated down at an angle. Now I could discern two arms and two legs. As it quickly rose again, it appeared to grow slightly. All three were getting bigger. Because they were coming this way.

I found myself on Toby's back, digging my heels into his flanks as I silently screamed to run. Only years of experience in County Leyawiin's creek-riddled hills kept me in the saddle. Like a good mount under the Command of a terrified mage, he bolted back down the road across hill and ford.

Eventually I brought myself under control. "Easy, boy." I relaxed into my seat to slow him to his ground-eating canter. Toby blew and snorted as my spell released him, but he showed no signs of distress.

Despite checking behind us repeatedly and finding no signs of pursuit, the skin between my shoulders prickled the whole way back to Fort Carmala.

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This post has been edited by Grits: Oct 15 2025, 10:01 PM

[Acadian]

A wonderful description as the day trades its last light for the sights and sounds of nightfall.

A detect life spell is very wise for a skittish mage!

Abiene finds herself at the ‘you’ve gone too far’ point and decides upon a challenging night ford. Might have worked if not for the unsettling life signs on the other side. A retreat back to Fort Camala may be a wise idea at this stage – at least until morning.

[treydog]

Your rich descriptions of the setting bring the story to wonderful life. And the way Abiene uses her hard-won expertise with magic is a treat to behold, including her snarky mental aside to Cpl. Hertzog.

Quote time:

As I returned to Toby, a crawling sensation crept down my back and up my neck. You are no clairvoyant, I told myself, just a silly person if you are afraid of the dark.

It's not the dark but what's in it, answered a deeply buried, childish part of my mind.

She may be "sheltered" and slightly "over-confident" in the mind of a certain Legion corporal... but she isn't stupid.

Most excellently woven.

[SubRosa]

I had done the right thing in for once controlling my urge to meddle.
Oh my...

Well, fords crossed, life signs detected, and moon shining in the sky. Things are looking up at least. For the moment. Well at least they were until Abiene missed her turn. Ope!

Abiene is going to forge ahead and roll the dice on her ability to cross. Hopefully her horse will keep all of his shoes this time. Let alone nothing worse.

Uh oh, things are getting weird. Time to listen to that voice in your head that is warning you of danger. All the animals in the forest are doing so, given their sudden quiet.

Well that was a close call. Bandits? Vampires? Inbred hicks who worship some dark entity with unholy rites? No way of telling yet. But Abiene has lived long enough to find out another day, perhaps with reinforcements.

[Kane]

I giggled when the Leigionairre food her she ought to stay overnight.

That last bit was properly spooky! The tension while she evaded whatever stalked her was palpable!

[Burnt Sierra]

You know, you're really being quite cruel here! You're building the tension up to such an extent, that sections like this do nothing good for your poor readers nervous systems.

I had reached the brightly moonlit center of the stream when the spring peepers ceased their song. Then the insects went silent. My feet stopped involuntarily, causing me to slide sideways downstream.
As I lost my footing a night bird screeched on the far bank. I went to one knee, my startled shriek answering its cry.

The figure stood still and silent. Behind it at a distance, three smaller life forms moved up and down, rising swiftly to a height and then drifting back to the ground.

You've certainly managed to time these updates well, seems like it's turning into the perfect Halloween section. The way you're playing with shadows and colours here as well.

The mountain-clear water looked sickeningly greenish under its light.
The natural moonlight and my Starlight spell combined to cast confusing shadows
A Nord-sized purple glow flared into sight, standing under a tree at the bank's edge.

Very evocative. Now, I'm grabbing wine to settle my poor shredded nerves, and to fortify me for tomorrow.

[Grits]

Previously: Abiene and Toby traveled toward Hackdirt as night fell. They found themselves at the washed-out bridge, having missed both the shortcut and Dar-Ma's turnoff. Four humanoid figures frightened Abiene while she looked for a way across. She and Toby headed back to Fort Carmala at speed. No one followed.

Acadian: Thank you, Acadian! I'm always amazed at how beautiful Cyrodiil is at night. And at how noisy Grits world is at night in the spring.

treydog: Thank you, treydog! It has been interesting to shake Abiene's confidence and see how she handles it. I drafted this chapter in a past November, and I remember creeping myself out with a cold, dark window behind me at a write-in.

SubRosa: She's had one setback after another, but so far hasn't considered quitting. There will be some speculation over who/what she saw, but I'm sure she'll want to get to a friendly campfire first. Thank you, SubRosa!

Kane: She didn't want to hear it, but turns out he was right! Thank you, Kane!

Burnt Sierra: I was delighted when I realized that this chapter would hit over Halloween. We can all take a breath with this section, but pretty soon she'll be back in the woods. Keep that wine handy! Thank you, Burnt!

Everyone: Travel and surgery (it's minor, no worries) will keep me from posting next Tuesday, but I should get the next post up within the week.

.

Chapter 21: Underneath, Part Nine

When Fort Carmala's outer gate guards came into view I gracelessly dismounted, my grip on the cantle barely preventing me from crumpling to the ground. I would check Toby for injuries and soothe my abused posterior as soon as I felt safe. Both guards stood in a way that made me want to cower behind them, but I was not on the right side of their shields yet.

"Hail the gate," I called, leading Toby toward their circle of torchlight. "I'm Abiene Metonne, healer from the Chapel of Stendarr in Chorrol."

"State your business," the one on the right said. Her voice told me she was a local. These two had replaced Corporals Guntien and Hertzog. If this outpost kept the same shifts as city guards and healing halls, it was past eleven bells of the evening watch.

For a moment I had to bite my tongue to keep from blurting out my fears. "I was traveling to Hackdirt," I began.

"That's back the way you came," said the second guard. "You're heading in the wrong direction."

'Thank you, Captain Obvious,' is not a reply one should give to an actual military person, nor indeed anyone who is not one's sibling, yet that was what sprang to mind. Instead I said, "Indeed, I was traveling toward Hackdirt when I saw something in the woods. Four somethings. People, I think. They moved in an odd manner. To be frank, they frightened me. I don't know this area, so I came back here."

"Did they attack you?" asked the woman.

"No. They were across the stream. I saw them at the washed-out bridge."

The two guards exchanged a look.

"What?" I said, my skin prickling again. "Do you think they were waiting there? For travelers?" Now I wondered if Dar-Ma had seen the turnoff that I had missed, or if she had also found herself at the bridge. What if she and Blossom had encountered those strange figures while Toby and I were at the farrier?

"Unlikely," the man said. "Not enough folk take that road to make the wait worthwhile. Unless those packs are full of gold, or something."

"And they knew you were coming," the woman added.

"Just trade goods," I said.

"They could have been moving stolen cattle," the man said.

"I didn't see any cattle. I was using a Detect Life spell."

"Could have been scouting the bridge in advance of moving stolen cattle," the woman said to the man.

The man turned toward her, head tilted. "Could have been skooma smugglers."

"Or akkvit."

"Ah! Akkvit." He nodded in a knowing way.

"Please," I said, "I just need to rest until dawn, then I will continue my journey. I was delayed, you see, this morning my horse threw a shoe. I separated from my companion and came to the farrier here at the fort. Perhaps… Is there any accommodation?"

Their attention snapped back to me. "We don't allow civilians to stay at the fort overnight," the man said. "There's a camp over the hill in that direction. You'll be safe from the daedra, but if you cause any trouble you're in the hands of the camp's leadership. We patrol, but they police."

"I'm no troublemaker," I said, though it seemed certain that they cared less about anything than my intentions. Either I behaved, or I found a shallow grave and the camp gained a horse.

"Could be necromancers," the woman said to the man, turning back to their speculation. "Mages Guild has sent a bunch of those bone pirates into the hedges."

"Or… slavers!" he said. "House Dres renounced the slave trade, I've heard. With no slaves in the markets, the dark elves have to get them somewhere."

The thought of Dar-Ma encountering slavers made me feel sick. I swallowed the new lump in my throat. "Thank you. I'd better find that camp while there's still moonlight."

A well-beaten path brought us there. I cast a small mage light as Toby and I approached the camp's outer ring, more to show my unarmed state than to light our way. Close to forty tents and various soft-sided shelters stood haphazardly in a trampled meadow, lit by scattered watchfires. I halted outside the implied boundary. It wouldn't do to lead a horse thumping past a host of sleeping heads.

A sturdy Orsimer stood up beside one of the fires, sheathed sword in hand. At my wave she started toward me. I kept my hands in sight, hoping she would find no reason to draw steel. She wore a leather jerkin over a roughly made but clean tunic and trousers. Her hair was neatly twisted into perfect rows of little knots tied with red string. As she held her silence, it seemed up to me to speak.

"I'm a healer from Chorrol," I said, looking up at her. "I'm moving on in the morning. I just need to rest." Toby snorted hot breath against my cheek. I ran absent fingers over his nose in reply. "Oh, my name is Abiene."

"Water's in the creek. Picket line there. You can sleep by that fire, or I've a space in a tent for ten gold. No noise, no cooking. There'll be oats in the morning."

Though she surely meant an oat-based porridge would be served in the morning, an image of myself nosing into Toby's feed bag flashed through my mind. I wondered what she wasn't telling me. "How many are already in the tent?"

The Orsimer's upper lip curled off her tusks in what I took to be amusement. "Seven."

I glanced up to see a sky filled with moons and stars, nary a dark cloud in sight. "Thank you, but I'll take that spot by the fire. May I ask your name?"

"What if I said no?" She gave a snort. "Name's Mazoga."

At least I have amused her. "Well met, Mazoga. May we have a quiet night."

My muscles were tired and sore, but I needed to tend to Toby. A spell to fortify my strength eased the process of unpacking and minimized my noise, particularly the potential for grunting. I made a neat arrangement by the fire in the space Mazoga had indicated. Somehow I felt comfortable leaving the packs with her. She had the aggressive cockiness that I associated with ruffians, yet she held a position of responsibility in keeping night watch on the camp. I wondered who had styled her hair.

I checked Toby with a spell while he drank from the creek. As we approached the picket line a lad lifted his head from a pile of blankets that he shared with two sprawling hounds. The hounds remained still, but the lad pointed me to the line's near end. I gave Toby a rubdown while he ate the oats Bongond had packed for him.

My mount's needs taken care of for the night, I walked as short a distance as I deemed absolutely necessary to relieve myself, then washed my hands and face in the stream. I spared no time to retrieve supplies, but simply rubbed a finger over my teeth and resolved not to kiss anyone. The freezing water reminded me of the icepack in the mountains above Chorrol. No doubt my night's wash water had sparkled under the sun as snow earlier today.

Before I left the streamside I debated the early rising trick I had learned from Jerric. Whatever illness this water might bear, I could heal upon the onset of the first symptom. I filled my waterskin and drank deeply of the ice melt, hoping that the morning would not bring regret.

As I walked back to the campfires, I lifted my dear friend Dar-Ma and her beloved Blossom in my heart to the Divines. Though I had more faith in the work of my own hands than in the possible intervention from Aetherial realms, the repetition of familiar phrases soothed me. By the time I wrapped my cloak around me and cast the spell I simply called Sleep, my head was ready to meet the satchel I used for a pillow.

No sooner had I closed my eyes than it seemed they were opening again. Dawn was a pale promise at the horizon, and stars still winked from the center of the sky. The cold drink from the night before had done its work. I trotted over to empty my bladder and check on Toby, then sought out the only fire that had a pot over the coals.

The cook was a Khajiiti woman around my own age. The shawl tied around her shoulders showed skillful work made from poor yarn. Her hair was braided and tied in an intricate arrangement. Red string ran through the braids.

"Good morning," she said, a cautious smile angling her whiskers.

"Good morning." I retrieved the coin purse from my waistband. "I'm Abiene. May I purchase some breakfast?"

"Certainly." She stooped to pick up a wooden trencher from a stack near the fire. The scoop of gray porridge hit the plate with a splat then sat in a lump, barely spreading outward. "Five Septims. This one is called Ra'vindra."

"By Mara!" I said before I could stop myself. I was a poor steward of coins, but the price surprised even me.

Ra'vindra's smile broadened when I handed her the thin, thumbnail-sized coin. "Pleasure doing business," she said.

"We shall see." I returned her smile to sweeten the words. With no spoon offered I slid my belt knife from its sheath. Determined not to be the wilting flower that I must appear, I ate a bite neatly from the blade.

The oat porridge had a good texture and there were no off flavors. Unseasoned and unsweetened, it tasted as if it had come from the chapel's kitchen. I decided to start carrying my own little tin of salt.

"Mazoga said you're a healer," Ra'vindra said, her tone and expression as bland as the porridge.

"I am," I said between bites, "but my time is short. Does someone need healing?"

"No," she said. "Khajiit just makes conversation."

As I pictured the steps that would take Toby and me back to the Hackdirt trail, I remembered the oddly menacing figures from the night before. My stomach clenched, but I took another bite anyway.

"Say, Ra'vindra, I saw a strange thing in the woods last night. I wonder if you've heard of anything like it, or maybe seen something like it yourself?"

"Oh? What did Abiene see?"

As I described how the figures had appeared to leap and float, Ra'vindra's ears flattened back.

"Khajiit knows who that was. There is a dark elf who can brew a potion... Damn her eyes! Ra'vindra hoped she had left all that behind."

"What kind of potion? I know some alchemy, but I've never heard of an effect that can accomplish what I saw."

"This one has seen it. In Morrowind." Ra'vindra turned her head to the side and spat, fangs fully visible. "Have a care in your travels, healer Abiene. Many trails weave through these woods, and few Foresters patrol them. A lot of folk have been lost out there. The Legion blames daedra, but this one suspects bandits. Now Ra'vindra knows she is right."

While we talked and I ate, an Imperial woman of middle age emerged from one of the tents. She limped over and passed a small packet to Ra'vindra, then scooped some porridge into the bowl she had brought with her.

Ra'vindra sniffed the packet and nodded at the woman, her warm smile returning.

"Dried apples," said the woman.

"So this one smells," Ra'vindra replied. "Nanny, if you watch the pot while Khajiit is gone, half of the earnings will be yours. And when you see Mazoga, tell her to pack up. We are moving on as soon as this one returns."

"It was nice to meet you, Ra'vindra," I said holding my empty plate out to her.

"Likewise," Ra'vindra said. She pointed at a murky wash bucket and walked away.

I had paid five Septims for my lump of porridge, while Nanny gave only a handful of dried apples for a bowl full! Five Septims should have bought all of the porridge and the pot. I had a moment to satisfy my curiosity.

"How much will you charge for porridge?" I asked Nanny.

The Imperial's eyes went from my boots to my belt to the clasp on my cloak. "Five Septims," she said. "Want some more?"

.

This post has been edited by Grits: Oct 21 2025, 08:18 PM

[Acadian]

Looks like being a damsel in distress did not impress those Fort Carmala guards.

"Could be necromancers," the woman said to the man, turning back to their speculation. "Mages Guild has sent a of bunch of those bone pirates into the hedges."
- - Nice nod to the rule of unintended consequences. . . .

Mazoga! Made even better by the introduction of her friend, Ra'vindra. We only hear a smidge of her demise at the hands of Mogen and his gang later from Sir Mazoga.

Looks like porridge in this camp is priced by one’s outward appearance of the ability to pay. Despite the lighter coin purse, Abiene is now rested, has an empty bladder, full belly and some daylight to support continuing her journey.


Edit: Oh, safe travels and a speedy recovery!

This post has been edited by Acadian: Oct 22 2025, 12:03 PM

[treydog]

I want to quote the entire "Who's on First?" routine by the guards... so just take that as a given.... Could just feel Abiene resisting the urge to roll her eyes as she tries to decide what is worse - shadows in the darkness or Clueless Joe & Josephine of the Legion....

And an auspicious meeting with the future Sir Mazoga! Along with the closely calculated "the oatmeal costs what we think a person is able to pay."

Excellent as always.

[SubRosa]

While the gate guards do not seem to be too useful, at least they are not outright scoffing at Abiene either. Smugglers, rustlers, bone pirates (love that one btw.) are indeed sensible assumptions for someone who has not read HP Lovecraft.

I do wonder what Akkvit is though?

Mazoga! Abiene will be able to tell people that she knew her back before she was a famous knight.

I envy Abiene for her sleep spell.

Dawn was a pale promise at the horizon
This was a wonderful turn of phrase.

Meeting Ra'vindra however, is a morose gift, burdened with foreknowledge as we are of her fate.

[Burnt Sierra]

"Five Septims? Five? What is this world coming to? Back in my day, five Septims would have bought a full suit of armour, a bottle of Cyrodiilic Brandy - Vintage I might add, none of this new unaged rubbish - to go along with a hearty meal, a new pair of shoes AND a down payment on a house! But, what should I expect, this generation just doesn't realise how easy they have it. When I was younger we didn't ride about on horses, we had to walk everywhere, hot or cold, snowing or raining, but now they just get on a horse, pull up their hood - a HOOD I tell you, we didn't have the luxury of hoods - and..."

(TM - Every grumpy old person in Tamrielic history)

But this part jumped out at me:

As I described how the figures had appeared to leap and float, Ra'vindra's ears flattened back.

"Khajiit knows who that was. There is a dark elf who can brew a potion... Damn her eyes! Ra'vindra hoped she had left all that behind."

The Legion blames daedra, but this one suspects bandits. Now Ra'vindra knows she is right."

What kind of Bandit is capable of that? Seems like Abiene is getting herself mixed up with some very dangerous people indeed, and she still has to meetup with Dar-Ma - assuming she manages to get to Hackdirt, it seems like everything possible is going wrong and the Universe is screaming "don't go there!"

But, of course, it's great fun for us happy readers

[Grits]

Previously: Abiene and Toby spent the night safely at the civilian camp outside Fort Carmala, watched over by the orc Mazoga. In the morning Abiene bought porridge from Ra'vindra, who believed she knew who Abiene had seen at the washed-out bridge. They were a particular group of bandits that included an alchemist from Morrowind.

Acadian: A long time ago I thought I could work the entire Mages Guild questline into this story. I hoped you would be happy to see Mazoga before she became a knight! And of course her best friend Ra'vindra. I adore Buffy's Sir Mazoga and her consort Sir Agronak, Champions of Cyrodiil, so I had a smile on my face when she popped up at the camp. Thank you, Acadian!

treydog: Gate guards always strike me as funny for some reason. Probably because in the game they give the most random comments and rumors. Also they have a lot of empty hours to fill between bouts of guard action, so they surely must tell each other stories. Thank you, treydog!

SubRosa: Akkvit is Winterhold whiskey, illegal in Cyrodiil. It's made up for Jerric's world. Lildereth found broken bottles in Hrotanda Vale, leading her to believe that Valdi's mother and gang were Akkvit smugglers. I would also like to have a Sleep spell! I was glad to give Ra'vindra a life before Mazoga's knightly oath, but it was of course bittersweet. Maybe I'll get an idea for a Mazoga and Ra'vindra best pals story. Thank you, Rosa!

Burnt Sierra: I had some fun looking up magical effects from Morrowind. I don't know if it's possible to make a potion with both Jump and Slow Fall, but it seems like it should be! Abiene has had lots of adventure on this trip but little forward progress. Will she proceed cautiously or run twice as fast back into the woods? Thank you, Burnt!

Everyone: It took a little longer to bounce back than I thought, but here we are! Next week I plan to resume Tuesday posting. Ha! Let's see what happens.

.

Chapter 21: Underneath, Part Ten

It took little time to get Toby tacked and packed, though I could have used some help balancing his load. What manner of giant-kin had decided to train this long-legged specimen to a pack saddle? We stepped out under a clear dawn, Toby's head up and ears forward, both of us eager for the road.

Today I did not let my Detect Life spell lapse, though I imagined that any predators we might meet would be of the four-legged variety. No doubt Ra'vindra's bandits were asleep in their lair, wherever that might be, and not inclined to look for travelers so early in the morning.

What had they been doing out in the woods last night? Surely they were as surprised to see me as I was to see them. If they dwelt nearby and had been returning with their spoils, they might not have been inclined to chase one person and a horse through the trees in the dark. Or perhaps they were traveling and had not heard that the bridge had been washed away. Given ten more minutes, Toby and I would have met them on their side of the creek.

I mentally shook myself. That had not happened, and today was a different day.

By mid-morning I spotted three blaze marks on a tree. I decided not to take Corporal Guntien's shortcut, but rather look for the trail that Dar-Ma and Blossom would have taken. At the worst I would miss the turnoff again and risk meeting Ra'vindra's bandits in daylight. At best I would find myself embracing Dar-Ma before nightfall having made my last mistake yesterday. She must be worried by now.

Once I saw the trail that Seed-Neeus described, I understood how I had missed it in the dark. I guided Toby off the road and across a meadow to reach it. Someone, certainly Dar-Ma, had broken a branch on either side and bent them to draw attention to the trail head.

Less than a half-day's ride from a Legion outpost I felt we had entered the wilderness. Trees formed a tunnel over our heads, casting us into cool twilight. The trail twisted and wound, preventing me from seeing very far ahead. As we dropped further in elevation I heard the creek. If I had followed Seed-Neeus's directions correctly, we were upstream from where the bridge had washed out. When we finally reached the place where the creek widened, Toby splashed across and back into the woods without so much as an ear flick.

I gave his shoulder a firm pat. "A lot of bother to get across this water, but we made it. Well done, Toby."

The trail followed the creek for a time. Here the undergrowth formed a wall on either side of us. Mist drifted in tendrils like the hair of a drowned crone. Whatever we might meet here we would have to confront on the trail or turn around and flee rather than slipping away into the woods. Had Dar-Ma been frightened yesterday when she came this way? I shivered even under my cloak.

Toby carried me along at an easy pace of his choosing. As we moved up out of the valley, the trail-side thickets gave way to sparse brush. Eventually we reached open woodland. Though we had left the creek behind, mist formed a ceiling as if we rode under a thin cloud. At ground level it was barely visible. The only sound that accompanied our travel was the muffled thud of Toby's hooves. I wondered what had become of yesterday's raucous birds.

The sharp tang of freshly split timber cut through the smells of leaf mold and damp wood. I slowed Toby to his brisk walk so that I might take in our surroundings. I was no forester, but even I knew these were pine trees. We began to pass stumps on the left side of the trail. Branch piles and sawdust told of a logging operation. Deep grooves had been pressed into the trail's surface. Rainwater still stood in some of them, while others had turned to mud. I realized they were drag marks from felled trees. Toby stepped carefully, his feet rarely splashing into the water-filled trenches.

Ahead I saw light between the trees, and soon we reached the clearing that produced it. We walked for nearly a minute before I halted Toby, my stomach in a knot. Foundations of stacked stone stood all around us, choked by vines, brush, and even small trees. Only fragments of blackened walls rose above them. We had reached Hackdirt, and now stood in the ruins of the town that had been destroyed thirty years ago by our own Imperial Legion. Toby blew and shifted his feet. My skin crawled even in the welcome sunshine.

As we moved further into the village the scent of fresh cut pine tickled my nose again. Several foundations had been cleared of their ruined walls. One housed a platform saw, and stacks of lumber lay nearby in various stages of finishing. However the saws were still and unattended. The town was utterly silent, as quiet as the lifeless woods.

In County Chorrol many communities laid their villages out in squares. Hackdirt had been built around a central circle. Twenty-odd structures stood in an outer ring with eleven fronting the village green. Laundry hung on a line outside one house, but nearly every one had dirt piled as high as my head where there should be kitchen gardens. I saw several plots of tilled earth, but no late winter crops or spring green poking up from the rows. If Marta or Ruby were inside one of these cottages, they made no move to attract my attention.

In the middle of the village stood a well, stone built and wider in diameter than most. A peaked roof sheltered it, but the structure held no pulley system.

I dismounted and led Toby onto the weedy village green. Though tempted to shout a halloo, the strangeness of the situation stopped me. Dar-Ma was here somewhere in this silent town. If no one came forward, I would simply have to start knocking on doors.

The first place to look was the inn where Dar-Ma and I had planned to spend last night. Moslin's Inn loomed above its humble neighbors, a three-story building with front-facing gables. Though it conformed to the region's sense of architecture, something about it gave me an uneasy feeling. Perhaps it was the absence of inviting touches. Where other inns such as the Wobbly Goblet near Weynon Village offered a covered entry, foundation plantings, window boxes, and a clear indication of where one's horse might be housed, this building stood stark on its stone ground level, staring into the town center with blind eyes.

With Toby secured to the hitching post, I looked around for a watering trough. Finding only a bucket, I carried it to the center of the circle to investigate the well. Its wooden cover was bolted and locked with a padlock. As I turned away the ground rumbled, almost below my ability to sense it. My feet wanted to run, but I took a slow turn around the well, hoping that Dar-Ma, Ruby, or Marta would see me.

Toby snorted and tossed his head as I walked back toward him. I gave him a pat on my way past to the back of the inn. There I found a privy and a water pump, ill-advisedly close to one another. The pump handle was stiff and slick with algae. Annoyed, I fortified my strength with a spell and forced it. Despite my misgivings, the water ran cold and clear.

I hadn't seen an obvious stable arrangement, and no one had come forward for my horse. Holding the bucket for Toby to drink, I decided to leave his packs in place and check inside. There was no sign of Blossom, which meant that Dar-Ma could be out somewhere. She may have left instructions for me regarding Toby's packs.

The hair on my arms rose up as I paused at the inn's uncovered stoop. The urge to whirl around and stare wildly in search of hidden observers nearly overwhelmed me, but I controlled myself and pushed open the door.