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

[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.