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

[Grits]

ghastley: A beer well, the Akaviri keg-o-rator!! That’s brilliant. Then the Blades wouldn’t have to stick their beer kegs in the snow banks, Bruma-style. Or on the back porch like in Grits World. I did think that Jerric should have brought the pitcher of beer to the baths. It always bugs me that they say Martin is safe, then they leave the front door open. I appreciate your comments, ghastley!

SubRosa: I couldn’t think of an ES friendly way to say ‘geothermal’! And once the hot springs appeared, the baths were a must. I mean, they have to find some way to keep all those Bretons and Imperials from transferring to the Heartlands. Thank you for your kind words, SubRosa!

Acadian: I made myself cold writing about the snowstorm! I’m glad you liked the renovations to Cloud Ruler Temple. I think any place with “Frost” in the name should come with hot springs and a cloaking enchantment. I missed a comma when I was trying to say the Blades did everything in unison. Thanks for finding it! I appreciate your support so much, Acadian!

mALX: I was having a Calgon-take-me-away kind of week, but Jerric got the hot bath. I really enjoyed CRT, once I figured out why everyone in the world can’t just look up and see it sitting there. Thank you, mALX, your comments made me smile!


Chapter 8: Running, Part 6

Jerric woke, gasping for breath. His hands clawed at the phantom pain in his chest. Dreaming again, he realized. The fire he had thought was consuming him had disappeared, replaced by the dim interior of the Blades sleeping quarters. A glance down the double row of pallets on the floor showed him that he had not disturbed his fellow sleepers. He rose and quietly straightened the blankets. Delain had brought him here last night, asleep on his feet. He supposed his gear was still scattered throughout the temple in the hands of various laborers. His borrowed woolen tunic and trousers should be warm enough for now, he decided. He stepped into his boots and headed out, in search of fresh air.

The wooden door swung quietly on its hinges. Jerric stepped through into the silent dawn, nodding his greeting to the Blade standing watch. He flapped his tunic to fan the crisp air over his skin, still sweaty from the nightmare. No snow today, he noticed. As he walked out from under the front portico, the sun’s edge appeared over the eastern mountains. He drifted to the low wall along the edge of the plaza, his mind suddenly empty of everything but amazement.

White peaks rose up behind Cloud Ruler Temple, but not much higher. Jerric felt that he must be standing near the top of the world. Grey granite ridges poked out of the drifted snow in the hollows far below him. The sun rose through a pink haze without warmth, but he realized that he didn’t need its heat. He wandered along the battlements, looking down the road they had climbed in the snowfall. Dark fir and spruce trees dotted the high mountainside and filled the lower slopes with their groves. Wide, open meadows looked like pale blankets, brightening to coral where the dawn light touched them. Bruma’s dark mass was visible to the south in the distance, but beyond that the land dropped away into a blue mist. His heart lifted in a way that felt like home.

“It’s something else, isn’t it,” remarked a voice at his side. Jerric glanced over. The Blade’s stature and thick features marked him as a Nord. “Roliand,” the man introduced himself.

“I’m Jerric. Pleased to meet you.”

Roliand nodded, looking him over. “You were at Kvatch,” he stated. Jerric waited, but Roliand didn’t continue.

“Did you have people there?” Jerric asked.

“No. Went there as a lad once, saw the Arena. What a view from the plateau. There’s something about standing up high with the world at your feet. It wasn’t quiet like here, though.”

“Well, it’s quiet there now. I guess the view’s the same as when you saw it.” Jerric wondered what the man wanted. “Not many Nords here?” he guessed.

“I’m the only one.”

Jerric hooked his thumb under his tunic. “Thanks for the loan, then.”

“Keep it.” Roliand was giving him another assessing look. “They say you went into the Gate to Oblivion and closed it.”

“Yeah.” Jerric decided to get the explanation over with. “Kvatch was my home. I thought I could save my family. I’m sure you would have done the same thing.” Roliand still did not appear to be satisfied. Jerric looked him straight in the eye. “Do you want to spar with me or something?”

Roliand nodded. “I’ll be off duty this afternoon. Pelagius and Fortis should be out soon, they spend most of the day training. Over there.” He pointed to a square of brown turf. “They’ll want to talk to you. Grandmaster Jauffre said we should expect more Gates to open.”

“I’ve told him everything, and Martin, too. He was there. They’ll get you ready for whatever comes.” Jerric felt uncomfortable reassuring the older man, like a child instructing his tutor. He decided to change the subject. He had noticed the white columns and arches of an Ayleid ruin above the trees far to the west. He pointed at them. “What’s that over there?”

“Rielle. There are no complete structures left standing. Full of undead, but they stay underground. Captain Steffan sends out a patrol periodically. It’s not a threat.” Booted feet and voices sounded in the plaza behind them. Steel rang against steel. Jerric turned with Roliand still beside him. Two Blades had begun sparring on the practice ground, and others spilled out of the doors into the open square. “There they go, already started. The watch is changing, and the grub’s on in the dining hall. Grandmaster Jauffre may want you with him, you should stop in the great hall first. I saw him there with our Lord Martin.”

“Thanks, Roliand.” Jerric resolved to remember Martin’s new title.

“I’ll see you later.”

Jerric walked through the crowd of Blades, trying not to gawk. The morning sun gleamed on their armor. He pulled his hands through his hair, suddenly feeling young and scruffy. The Blade at the front door greeted him. “Good morning, sir.”

“Good morning. I’m Jerric.”

“Yes, sir. Caroline.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Jerric gave her a closer look. “Is Delain your boy?”

“He is.”

“He’s a good lad, you must be proud.” He turned and looked back over the plaza. “I guess there are worse places to grow up.”

“There's no place more secure in all of Cyrodiil. I just wish... I wish we could have gotten our Lord Uriel here....”

Jerric continued into the great hall. His second look was no less awe-inspiring than the first. He spotted Jauffre and Martin back at the table by the fire. Kahve’s rich aroma reached him along with the smell of wood smoke. As he walked to join them, his stomach growled its hope for a meal.

“Ah, there you are,” remarked Jauffre in greeting.

Martin poured a mug of kahve and slid it to Jerric. “Good morning,” Martin said with a slight smile. Jerric wondered how long he and Jauffre had been at the table. Delain burst into the hall bearing a loaded tray. A young Imperial woman followed him, similarly burdened. They quickly filled the table with steaming bowls and platters. “We didn’t know how long you’d sleep,” explained Martin. “But now we don’t have to start without you.”

Jerric stared at the food in surprise. “And I thought I was the early riser. Where’s the rest of the army?”

Jauffre snorted. “They’re cooking for a Nord and an emperor. Their Grandmaster alone doesn’t get this kind of breakfast. We’ll see if there’s anything left to eat by winter.” He glared over at Delain. The young Breton returned his look with an unrepentant grin. Jerric noticed that Jauffre was one who could smile with his eyes while the rest of his face was scowling. The smell of sage and fennel teased his nose while he waited for Martin and Jauffre to fill their plates. Jauffre gestured with a serving fork. “Go ahead, Jerric. Help yourself.”

Fried potatoes with peppers and onions made the first mountain on his plate. Crisply browned sausage patties proved to be the source of the fennel and sage. He passed on the plate of sweet rolls to leave room for a pile of the orangest scrambled eggs he had ever seen. Then he found something new. He caught the Imperial girl’s eye. “What’s this?”

“Porridge made from ground corn. There’s sausage gravy in that pitcher to go with it.”

“You put gravy on your porridge?” he asked, incredulous.

“What do you put on yours, sugar?” she shot back impudently.

Jerric smiled and filled his bowl. If he was getting sassed in front of the next emperor, he guessed the mood at Cloud Ruler Temple must be improving. He imagined it must have been grim since the news of the last emperor’s death had reached them, as well as the deaths of all of his guard save Baurus. He tasted the porridge. “It’s kind of gritty,” he remarked.

The Imperial opened her mouth to answer, but Delain’s elbow in her ribs seemed to shut it for her. “Dismissed, you two,” said Jauffre. They disappeared through a door, and Jauffre got abruptly down to business. “Have you ever considered military service, Jerric?”

“Uh, not really. I mean, I don’t have any problem following orders, as long as I agree with them. But I like to think I could tell my boss to hump himself and go my own way.”

“Many Blades serve the Empire independently, as agents. Only a few reside here, and at smaller fortresses throughout Tamriel.” Jauffre was giving him a significant look.

Jerric put down his fork. “Grandmaster Jauffre, what are you trying to say?”

“You have proven yourself a loyal servant of the Empire, as worthy as any of the Blades to stand by Martin’s side during this crisis. As the Grandmaster of the Blades, I would be honored to accept you into our order as a Knight Brother. Will you join us?”

Jerric was stunned. “Jauffre, I’m no knight. I’ve spent most of my time looking for something cold to pour down my throat and someplace warm to put my stick. I don’t live by a code. I’ll kill someone when they’re down, or when I’ve kicked their weapon away. Whatever it takes to get the job done. I’m not going to apologize for my talk, either. I think you should know what you’re dealing with.”

“I’m dealing with the man who went through a Gate to Oblivion and closed it on his own, then picked himself up and took Kvatch back from the daedra with the Guard.”

“Not on my own.”

“I’ll give you that. But you took the Sigil Stone. No one handed it to you.”

“I was working on anger and desperation. I kept making the same mistakes. It’s a miracle I survived.”

“Yet here you are. Your tactics are not under scrutiny. You have earned this invitation with your loyalty.”

Jerric scratched his hands through his hair. To stand by Martin’s side. The sun’s companion. His heart knew the answer before his head could accept it. “I need to get my mind cleared up, and train. I don’t have much experience against heavy armor, and it seems like that’s what our enemy is going to throw at us. Zealots in heavy armor. They’re not afraid to die, they’re just attacking. Even untrained, they have enough of them to take me down. I need stronger shock spells, and better summons spells to fight the daedra. I’m not ready.”

“I’m not going to negotiate, so I’ll tell you how it is and you decide. You’ll be an agent for the Blades, if you accept. Go train, prepare yourself. Come back when you’re ready for orders. Here, or you can find Baurus at Luther Broad’s Boarding House in the Imperial City. He’s gathering intelligence; we hope that soon we will be able to identify the enemy. You’ll follow your orders and complete the missions you are given. When you decide you’re through, then you’re through. I’m not going to chase you down, but I expect that you’ll tell me and report on your current mission. You should know that once you’re a Blade, you’ll always be one.” He nodded over his head at the Hall of Blades above them. “In time they all come back here. Are you with us?”

“I’m with you.”

Jauffre rose and stepped away from the table. When Jerric saw the Akaviri katana in his hands, he guessed that Jauffre had anticipated his answer. “It is my honor to welcome you into our ranks as a Knight Brother of the Blades.” Jauffre extended the sword balanced across his open palms. The simple gesture spoke louder than pomp or ceremony. Jerric took it from him with the sense of a door closing behind him. Jauffre sat back down and addressed his plate again. “Get measured for your armor before you go. Your allegiance is a secret now, but there will come a time when we’ll all stand together.” He gestured impatiently. “Sit down, finish your breakfast.”

Jerric did as he was told. He cleared his plate, then filled it again with a stack of griddle cakes. “I guess we should work out a code, so you can get me back if you find out something.”

Jauffre nodded and speared a griddle cake. “That’s good thinking. A signal telling you to return here, and one to find Baurus in the Imperial City.”

Jerric thought for a moment. “Send me a letter. I don’t have any relatives left alive, so it could be from Auntie or Uncle Someone. Auntie for Baurus, Uncle for here.”

“Where should we send it?”

“Anvil Mages Guild. Wherever I go, I’ll make sure they know it.”

“You should take Flash.”

Jerric shook his head. “I can’t afford to keep him. I don’t even know if I have a coin purse anymore.”

“He can carry enough grain to get himself through the snow. You might need to return quickly, faster than your feet can bring you. We can’t rely on caravans, the daedra are likely to cause disruption.”

Martin spoke, and Jerric stopped eating to listen. “We know that Mehrunes Dagon is the source of the attacks. It seems that his worshippers are working on his behalf here in Cyrodiil. When we find them, we must move quickly to retrieve the Amulet, before they remove it forever from our reach.”

“All right, I’ll take Flash,” Jerric decided. “I think you should go ahead with your plans when you make them, though. A lot can happen between here and Anvil.”

Jauffre and Martin exchanged a look. “There is another thing you must know, Jerric. Your concern for Brother Piner was well founded. All who serve the emperor are at risk. If he is captured by the enemy, he will not be able to lead them here. You, however, number among those who must not be taken alive.”

Jerric had already come to this conclusion. “Right. Then I guess I’d better not be too conspicuous.”

“On the contrary, wear your Wolf with pride. The more places you’re seen, the harder it will be to track you. Rumors spread quickly, and might only contain a crumb of truth. The people need a hero, and you will need favors. Others carry Akaviri blades, though they are rare. In fact I believe there is one presently for sale in the Imperial City. And when the enemy does connect you to Martin, it may tell us even more about them.” Jerric stared at Jauffre. He hoped that his casual tone reflected confidence in Jerric’s skills instead of disregard for his life. The Grandmaster continued, gesturing with his bite of griddle cake for emphasis. “I doubt they will come for you soon, but it would be unwise for you to let your guard down.”

Captain Steffan entered the hall and stood to the side, waiting. Jauffre rose and went to speak with him. Martin looked over at Jerric. “You are going back into danger. But don’t worry about me, my friend. I know I’m in good hands here.”

Jerric spent the better part of a week at Cloud Ruler Temple, training with the Blades. “A storm’s coming,” Roliand told him one day on the battlements. “This old shoulder always knows.”

“And my knees,” added Jena. “You’d better get going.”

Jerric and Flash followed the Silver Road down out of the mountains, then headed west along the busy Red Ring Road. Folk all along the way told him rumors of daedra. He told them of Kvatch and the heroes there who were rebuilding it. They got all the way to the Gold Coast before they saw one. A dead clannfear in the road with pools of blood around it. Two Legion horses stood placidly nearby, attended by a young legionnaire.

Jerric left Flash in her care. He checked his canteen and made sure he remembered his shield this time. His eyes scanned the landscape as he descended through the meadow. An oval of fire glinted far below, brighter than the sun. He walked toward it, pulled along as if in a dream. Thunder rolled and the sky blackened. Red clouds began to swirl above him, laced with lightning. He had found a Gate to Oblivion.

This post has been edited by Grits: Mar 10 2011, 07:21 PM

[mALX]

Jerric noticed that Jauffre was one who could smile with his eyes while the rest of his face was scowling

I love this line !!!!

The Imperial opened her mouth to answer, but Delain’s elbow in her ribs seemed to shut it for her

Another perfect example of how your writing can be visualized totally by the reader - I could see this scene in front of me as if I was watching a movie !! AWESOME WRITE !!!!

The whole section from the point Jauffre begins talking about Jerric joining the Blades - all the way to the paragraph before Captain Steffan walks in was outstanding !!!

Jerric left Flash in her care. He checked his canteen and made sure he remembered his shield this time. His eyes scanned the landscape as he descended through the meadow. An oval of fire glinted far below, brighter than the sun. He walked toward it, pulled along as if in a dream. Thunder rolled and the sky blackened. Red clouds began to swirl above him, laced with lightning. He had found a Gate to Oblivion.

WHEW !!! Powerful, POWERFUL ending !!!!!!

[SubRosa]

A lovely description of the sights from the battlements of Cloud Ruler.

Jerric noticed that Jauffre was one who could smile with his eyes while the rest of his face was scowling.
I love this!

And a big meal. Everyone eats so good here at Chorrol. But gravy on polenta? Well, it is better than popcorn and beer on rat stew!

But I like to think I could tell my boss to hump himself and go my own way.
Exactly my own attitude. Teresa's as well.

I’ve spent most of my time looking for something cold to pour down my throat and someplace warm to put my stick.
Okay, here is where Teresa and I part company from Jerric!

Jerric took it from him with the sense of a door closing behind him.
And indeed it has!


nits:
as worthy as any of the Blades to stand by Martin’s side during this crises
I think you meant crisis, crises is the plural form of the word.


Jerric and Flash followed the Silver Road down out of the mountains, then headed west along the busy Red Ring Road. Folk all along the way told him rumors of daedra. He told them of Kvatch and the heroes there who were rebuilding it. They got all the way to the Gold Coast before they saw one. A dead clannfear in the road with pools of blood around it. Two Legion horses stood placidly nearby, attended by a young legionnaire.


Jerric left Flash in her care. He checked his canteen and made sure he remembered his shield this time. His eyes scanned the landscape as he descended through the meadow. An oval of fire glinted far below, brighter than the sun. He walked toward it, pulled along as if in a dream. Thunder rolled and the sky blackened. Red clouds began to swirl above him, laced with lightning. He had found a Gate to Oblivion.
The forum threw in an extra space between your last two paragraphs.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Mar 10 2011, 06:30 PM

[haute ecole rider]

I have been away from Cloud Ruler Temple for so long that this chapter nearly made me homesick! It's a beautiful place, good for meditation and for regrouping. And the Blades are warmer than that fire in the Hall!

I quite enjoyed this chapter, even though your vision is a bit different from mine. Your CRT is a wonderful place to be, with the baths and the kids.

And the line about Jauffre's eyes smiling above a scowl is exactly how I think of him! I just write it differently!

Well done!

[Acadian]

'Porridge made from ground corn. There’s sausage gravy in that pitcher to go with it.”
Gritty indeed!
Yummy breakfast overall!

I liked the understated dialogue between Jerric and Roliand. It really worked.

The details of how you presented Jauffre's invitation to join the Blades and Jerric's decision were wonderfully done!

Oh. . . crap. Mehrunes Dagon can open more than one of those things!?!

[Thomas Kaira]

OK, all caught up again! A very nice breakfast you served today!

I hope Jerric is ready for the coming darkness. He's going to need every ounce of his Nordic strength quite soon, it would seem.

And poor Cliff has been hung again! You would think he would eventually learn to stay away from them there gallows!

[Grits]

mALX: Thank you, mALX! I’m glad you liked Jauffre’s sales pitch to Jerric, he had to be pretty persuasive. The ending was Jerric’s doing, he won’t quit going in the damn Gates. He’s not cooperating!

SubRosa: Thank you, SubRosa! I like all of the places with a view. Jauffre’s warm side comes across to me in little touches, since he’s the one who has to make the cold-hearted decisions. I’m glad you liked it.

haute ecole rider: The civilian support staff at CRT is such a departure from the game, I was wondering how it would be received. I’m glad you enjoyed it. It all started when I asked who got to dust all of those swords. Thank you, h.e.rider!

Acadian: I’m so glad the Jerric and Roliand part worked for you. I’ve only witnessed those kinds of exchanges, and I really have to guess what’s behind them. Thank you so much for the reassurance! And we are indeed having Gate issues. I keep saying don’t go in there, but he doesn’t listen!

Thomas Kaira: I’m glad you enjoyed breakfast. It’s getting dark in a hurry, we’ll see what happens next!



Chapter 9: Anvil, Part 1

Darnand Penoit walked east along the Gold Road in the morning light. The Brina Cross Inn lay behind him, and he hoped that two Imperial Battlemages were following out of sight. Carahil had tasked him with helping them solve a series of murders between Gottshaw and Brina’s Crossing. They suspected a rogue mage was robbing merchants. His reward would be her recommendation. His eyes searched the road’s edge, watching for danger. Carahil’s words echoed in his mind.

“We are still getting reports of daedra on the Gold Road,” she had told him. “The Legion has discovered a Gate to Oblivion south of Garlas Agea, and they are monitoring it. Some would stay inside the safety of city walls until this danger passes. However, we have work to do, work that matters. Take care, and do not let your guard down.”

Darnand believed that his own work was important, but his private research did not earn him an income. Pursuing his goals would require coin, and that meant seeking more responsibility. He had to interrupt his work in order to continue it.

A tall figure in a bright blue gown stepped out into the road in front of him. It’s that Altmer from the inn, he noticed. I wonder what she’s doing all the way out here?

Red magicka swirled around Darnand, and he halted in surprise. He realized she had cast a spell on him. Weakness to something, he guessed. This must be the rogue mage. He quickly reached for the scroll Carahil had given him.

The Altmer sneered as she filled her hands with frost. “I’m afraid your journey ends here, traveler!” His fingertips found the scroll, and he readied a fire spell. The scroll’s protective shell bloomed around him as her frost attack impacted his chest. The air left his lungs, and he staggered back in pain. Fire roared out of his hand at the Altmer, but he knew the flare wouldn’t kill her. She shrieked with fury when it hit. “I’ll be taking whatever you’re carrying!” she howled. Darnand looked around for the battlemages. Frost boomed against him again, driving him to his knees with shock and pain. “After you’re dead, of course!” He cast more fire, cursing his stars. The Apprentice gave him a vast well of magicka, but it weakened him to magical attacks. He didn’t realize how much until today. I should summon something, he thought dully. The Altmer raised her hand, and the white glow of healing magicka flowed down over her. “I do hope it’s more than the last few had,” she crowed. “They were most disappointing!”

Darnand heard a shout and turned his head toward the source. A large man ran down the road toward them, out of the sun. Darnand got the impression of a round shield and stained surcoat, then he found himself on his back looking up at the sky. Agony gripped his chest like an icy fist, consuming his attention. He used his healing spell three times before his ears stopped ringing. Shrieks and fire attacks split the air. It isn’t over, he realized. He thrashed over to his side in a panic, bent double with a spasm through his middle. Another healing spell, then he sat up to see what was happening.

The Altmer lay sprawled on the road, a puddle of sapphire velvet. Her pale golden hair gleamed against the dusty stones, incongruously pretty. The man turned away from her and stalked toward Darnand. He held his long sword pointed at the ground. Blood ran off the blade in a bright thread, shining in the sun. Darnand sat frozen. I’d better get a spell ready in case he attacks me, he thought. Fire spell, that has to be a Nord. More shouts came from up the road, this time from the direction of Brina’s Crossing.

The man removed his battered helmet as he approached Darnand. His shoulders seemed to block out the sky. Shaggy blonde hair and a thick beard obscured his features. “You all right?” he asked with concern. The deep voice sounded rough, but familiar. It’s Jerric, Darnand realized with a shock.

The two Imperial Battlemages dashed up, shouting. They both wore blue hoods and armor. Arielle and Hanus, thought Darnand. Finally. Jerric turned toward them and dropped his helmet. He took a step back, raising his sword and shield. Darnand suddenly realized how the scene must appear, and he scrambled to his feet. “Drop it!” Arielle shouted at Jerric, raising her mace. Hanus planted his feet, and a ball of fire coalesced in his hand.

This was not in the plan, Darnand thought frantically. He leaped in front of Jerric, arms outstretched. “Wait! He’s a friend! He’s with the guild, too!” Arielle lowered her mace, and Hanus let the fire blaze out against the road. Darnand turned around and saw Jerric standing in a way that must have meant something to the other two. He still looked extremely menacing to Darnand. Jerric moved to the side of the road without speaking to them.

Hanus walked over to the Altmer’s body. Arielle addressed Darnand. “We saw him attack that woman. Is she the rogue mage?” Darnand nodded. She gestured at Jerric with her mace. “Did he just happen to be walking down the road at this moment?” she demanded.

Darnand looked over at Jerric for confirmation. He knelt beside Hanus, cleaning his sword on the Altmer’s gown. He seemed to be ignoring them. “His name is Jerric,” Darnand replied crisply. “He’s from Kvatch, and I haven’t seen him since before the attack there. Do you suppose I could have arranged this meeting? That’s what you need to decide. Then we can discuss where you were while the rogue mage was attacking me.” I’m an Associate dressing down an Imperial Battlemage, Darnand realized with horror. Better just brazen it out.

Arielle gave him a piercing look. “We were briefing a Legion Rider. I’m sure you saw him when he passed you. They have increased their patrols since the last Gate opened. He informed us that the Garlas Agea Gate has closed.” She stared past him at Jerric. “I don’t believe you planned this,” she told Darnand. “We will stay and clean this up. Report our success to Carahil.” Hanus returned to his position at Arielle’s side.

Darnand nodded. “Thank you, Arielle. Hanus,” he said respectfully, and with a great deal of relief. He walked over to where Jerric stood near the body, watching them impassively. His eyes appeared have sunk into their sockets, and there were new lines and scars on his face. His nose was a crooked ruin. “Jerric,” Darnand said cautiously. “It’s good to see you.”

Jerric put out his mailed arm, and Darnand grasped it. “Darnand,” he replied. “I almost didn’t recognize you without a book in your hand. And wearing a dagger now, I see.” Darnand thought he could see teeth under the beard. Jerric indicated Darnand’s trousers. “Where’s your gown?”

Darnand sighed inwardly. Here was the Jerric he knew, and it gave him some comfort. “Carahil sent me out here. I’m posing as a merchant, so I couldn’t wear a mage’s robe. The knife is Felen’s, it’s part of my disguise. I’m starting my recommendations. Do you have any yet?”

“Just one,” Jerric said. “Kvatch. Heading back to Anvil, then? I’ll walk with you.” He turned and gave a piercing whistle. A moment later a paint horse laden with packs ambled over the hill.

“I’m happy to have the company,” Darnand said. Something of an understatement, he thought wryly. When he brushed the ice crystals from his borrowed shirt, he realized that his hands were shaking. So were his knees.

Jerric rubbed the horse’s neck when it reached them. “Flash,” he said to Darnand, indicating the horse. Then he looked at the horse and tipped his head toward Darnand. “Darnand,” he told the horse. Darnand began to wonder about Jerric’s mental state.

They started walking. The sun cast their shadows in front of them, and the early winter light seemed to glow on the rocks and trees. Darnand always forgot how nice it was to be outside. When the weather was agreeable, of course. The morning was unusually warm, and he couldn’t understand his sudden shivering. The cold from the attacks had faded with the ache when he healed himself. When his teeth started to chatter, he glanced over at Jerric. “D-don’t know what’s gotten into me,” Darnand stammered.

Jerric nodded. “It takes some that way. Afterward. The shakes.” They walked a few more paces. “I throw up a lot,” he added.

Eventually Darnand’s body came back under his control. “I looked for you in Kvatch,” he said. “Where have you been all this time?”

“Wandering. I had a few things I needed to do, then I headed back this way. I saw a Gate, and I closed it. It was bad, Darnand. I don’t even have the words for what I’ve seen. Then I found another one. I just got lost for a while.” They walked for a few more steps. “What’s the date?”

“Evening Star the fourth.” Darnand saw the shock in Jerric’s face.

“I had no idea,” Jerric said. He started looking frantic, then he visibly calmed himself. I really need to watch him, Darnand realized.

“We heard there was a Gate near Gottshaw, but it closed about a month ago. Was that you?”

“Yeah.” Jerric’s flat tone did not invite further questions.

Darnand wanted to be respectful, but he wanted information more. He decided to start with an easy subject. Swords or women, he would let Jerric choose. “By the time I got to Kvatch, you had left,” he remarked. “Sigrid didn’t know where you had gone. We heard about it in Anvil, but we weren’t sure it was you. Do you have a blue sword?”

“I had one. Chillrend. It was enchanted with frost damage and weakness to frost. Dropped it in the Deadlands.”

“What happened?”

“I was outside on a bridge. I saw a spider daedra, so I attacked it. They like to cast shock spells out of their mouths, it’s pretty unnerving at first when they’re aimed at you. Did you know the real ones summon little spiderlings? Well, the big ones are hard to hit, I have to get in close. I was trying not to trip over its legs, and the spiderling paralyzed me. I went down hanging partway off the bridge. They have lava in the rivers there. I dropped my sword into the lava trying not to fall. That was Chillrend.”

“Why did you attack it?” Darnand asked, astonished.

Jerric looked at him as if the question didn’t make sense. “Why else would I go in there? Besides, spider daedra are even better than fire atronachs for me. I absorb a lot of magicka fighting them, and my frost spells do a lot of damage. The Gate near Skingrad led to some kind of nest, I wouldn’t have made it through without them. Those big dremora are hard for me to kill, and I can’t sneak past them in the towers. That’s why I’m coming back, to train. And I have some sigil stones, I need to figure out the best way to use them.”

Darnand halted in surprise. “You have sigil stones? Where?”

“In my pack, Flash doesn’t like them. Look.” Jerric reached under his mail and started rummaging in the front of his trousers. Darnand stepped back, alarmed. “Stendarr’s beard, I’m going for my pocket. And I sure don’t have a sigil stone in my pants. I guess you’re still jumpy after the head-humping incident. Can’t say I blame you.” He held a ring out to Darnand. “Here, look at this.”

Darnand took it. “What does it do?”

“You can’t tell?” Jerric’s glance was a challenge.

Darnand examined the ring warily. “I can tell it’s magical. Not everyone can read enchantments so quickly, Jerric.”

“Really? Well, it lets you see life energy. Try it, I made it myself.”

“How did you… you enchanted this with a sigil stone?” He looked at it more closely. “A brass and pearl dinner ring?”

“All right, give it back then. I had to use what I could find. I got this ring off some fool who wanted to kill me. Don’t remember which one. You’d think with daedra around, folk would quit attacking each other. Anyway, it fits whatever hand you put it on. Even your lady fingers.”

Darnand handed the ring back. “You said you have sigil stones?”

“I’ll show you when we get to Anvil. They’re packed pretty well, and if I dig them out now, Flash will cause a fuss. Understandably,” he said, directing his last comment at the horse.

Darnand looked over and saw that Jerric looked uncharacteristically reflective. “Glafeviel is with the guild in Kvatch now,” he said quickly, “and Vigge from Skingrad.”

Jerric nodded. “Glafeviel and Sigrid, sparks are going to fly between those two until they work things out. Shouldn’t be boring, that’s for sure. And Vigge in the mix, I didn’t know he planned to stay. I guess he’ll be in charge, he’s a Conjurer.” Jerric shot a glance over at Darnand. “What did you think of Sigrid? Is that the first time you met her?”

Darnand understood Jerric’s meaning. “She is an impressive woman,” he replied coolly. “I have never seen her equal.” He caught Jerric’s grin. “Back to the guild hall when we get to town? What’s the plan?”

“I don’t have one. The guild hall is a good place to start.” His grin faded, and Darnand could see that he was getting agitated again. “Listen, let me just walk a little with you. I haven’t used so many words since Heartfire. Tell me about your studies. I swear I’ll stay awake.”

“All right, Jerric. I think we can make it to Anvil by late afternoon. That should give me enough time to tell you. Even a Breton mage can make good time going downhill.” Jerric smiled at that remark, and Darnand felt a little relieved. He launched into the tale of his research, hoping he could somehow make it sound interesting to the man they called Lionheart.

This post has been edited by Grits: Mar 13 2011, 08:26 PM

[SubRosa]

The Altmer sneered as she filled her hands with frost.
Wonderfully put!

Here you had me about to comment on Darnand (or Darnit? ) being a Breton and having a 50% resistance to magic. Then you throw in that he was born under the Apprentice. So instead he has a 50% weakness! Clever girl.

Then we can discuss where you were while the rogue mage was attacking me
No kidding. Great help those two were.

He informed us that the Garlas Agea Gate has closed.”
And I can guess who closed it...

I love seeing Jerric from Darnand's point of view. Like a wild animal come in from the cold. You can see that the time he has spent fighting has changed him. Worn on him. He has forgotten what it is like to be part of the civilized world.

[haute ecole rider]

Then we can discuss where you were while the rogue mage was attacking me.

I cracked up at this. When I play the game, the slashin' and smashin's always over by the time those two show up, and all they have left to do is defend themselves against the Legionary that's always there (if you have already started the MQ and Gates are opening up all over).

“Flash,” he said to Darnand, indicating the horse. Then he looked at the horse and tipped his head toward Darnand. “Darnand,” he told the horse. Darnand began to wonder about Jerric’s mental state.

This used to happen all the time in the Old West (American Old West), when a cowboy would be out on the range for days on end with only the horse for company. Prospectors and mountain men suffered the same malady, talking to what ever animal was their companion (such as burros or even a grizzly bear ) To me, this emphasizes how long Jerric has been on his own.

[Acadian]

'Hanus planted his feet, and a ball of fire coalesced in his hand.'
I both chuckled and wrung my hands at the battlemages' tardiness, but this is an impressive picture you paint of the battlemage preparing to fry Jerric.

I absolutely loved the idea of having Darnand do this quest and having Jerric in a 'support' role. Brilliant!


'I’m starting my recommendations. Do you have any yet?”
“Just one,” Jerric said. “Kvatch.'

Oh my! I wanted to cheer over this. Closing that damn gate at Kvatch should certainly earn a strong recommendation from acting chapter head Sigrid! Speaking of Sigrid, I heartily concur with this for many more than two reasons:

“She is an impressive woman,”


Now I realize that I travel with a horse-crazy elf, but introducing Flash to Darnand seemed so perfectly the right thing to do of course!

Another wonderful episode!

This post has been edited by Acadian: Mar 14 2011, 12:47 AM

[mALX]

You’d think with daedra around, folk would quit attacking each other.

Very powerful statement !!

I love seeing Jerric from Darnand's point of view. Like a wild animal come in from the cold. You can see that the time he has spent fighting has changed him. Worn on him. He has forgotten what it is like to be part of the civilized world.

Excellent description, SubRosa !!

I was stunned at the difference in Jerric from the bouncy guy we love up at CRT - to the changes seen in this chapter - and the way you slipped in how quite a bit of time had passed and he had been closing gates all that time - this chapter is HUGE!! The subtleness of clues as to the state of his mind - you have taken this from fic to epic with this chapter!!

“Wandering. I had a few things I needed to do, then I headed back this way. I saw a Gate, and I closed it. It was bad, Darnand. I don’t even have the words for what I’ve seen. Then I found another one. I just got lost for a while.

I have never seen a closer example to the way my son came back from his first tour in Iraq. The changes in him are the same that you detailed here in Jerric - this write is HUGE, Grits. It couldn't get any more powerful than this - AWESOME WRITE !!!!!

Then in the same chapter you gave us this:

The sun cast their shadows in front of them, and the early winter light seemed to glow on the rocks and trees. Darnand always forgot how nice it was to be outside. When the weather was agreeable, of course. The morning was unusually warm, and he couldn’t understand his sudden shivering. The cold from the attacks had faded with the ache when he healed himself. When his teeth started to chatter, he glanced over at Jerric. “D-don’t know what’s gotten into me,” Darnand stammered.

Jerric nodded. “It takes some that way. Afterward. The shakes.” They walked a few more paces. “I throw up a lot,” he added.

And then this:

“I had one. Chillrend. It was enchanted with frost damage and weakness to frost. Dropped it in the Deadlands.”

“What happened?”

“I was outside on a bridge. I saw a spider daedra, so I attacked it. They like to cast shock spells out of their mouths, it’s pretty unnerving at first when they’re aimed at you. Did you know the real ones summon little spiderlings? Well, the big ones are hard to hit, I have to get in close. I was trying not to trip over its legs, and the spiderling paralyzed me. I went down hanging partway off the bridge. They have lava in the rivers there. I dropped my sword into the lava trying not to fall. That was Chillrend.”

I have been reduced to gobbling like a turkey at the end of the read - can't even begin to express what a tremendous write this was. This is absolutely my favorite chapter of all of them, I don't think there is a way to top it. Awesome Write ... gobble, gobble, gobble ...

[Destri Melarg]

You're already at PAGE 10??!!! I've got some serious reading to do! I'll be back to say something very long-winded (if not intelligent) when I've caught up.

[Grits]

SubRosa: Whew, I�m glad I got the birthsign reference in there! It took me a while to figure out how to make Darnand powerful but still vulnerable. I�ve never played a Breton in the game, but the Apprentice seemed like the way to go. Not sure he�d agree with me, though! What you saw in Jerric is what I was hoping Darnand could show you, and you put it so beautifully. Thank you so much!

haute ecole rider: In Jerric�s game I finally timed it so that the Legion Rider would pass before the fight, then afterward I couldn�t find Hanus. He was still standing over in the bushes. Bird watching, maybe? Sheesh. The prospector is a great analogy! Wild-eyed and hairy with a pack full of daedra hearts, and a little too attached to his horse.

Acadian: I�m glad you liked Darnand�s role in the MG quest. Sadly, I ended up cutting Arielle�s super-spy part, but it didn�t really fit. I�ll be taking some liberties with the recommendations, hopefully it will work. I�m glad we both see eye-to-eye with Sigrid. Thank you for your kind words, Acadian. A cheer from you warms my heart!

mALX: This part did not go as I planned. It�s a shock to me how a story about a fun guy and some monsters is sometimes not about that at all. Certainly more than I intended to attempt, especially on my first time out in fiction land. I�m sure we�ll find him with his pants down at an inopportune moment again, since this is Jerric that we�re dealing with. But it seemed disrespectful not to address the rest of it. I�m sure you can guess this part has been uncomfortable to write. Your affirmation means so much to me, mALX. It really, really does! Thank you!!!

Destri Melarg: Wheee, I�m glad you�re back!!! This story will be here whenever you get to it, I�m delighted that you�re reading. Page 10, I can�t believe it either!! I guess this turned out to be something I want to spend time doing. I have learned so much from your comments. You are very much appreciated, and you have been missed!

Note: Now that we are in Chapter 9, I realize that we have started sort of the middle of the story. If there was a natural break for a Book 2, I just blew past it. Ooops. Still learning!



Chapter 9: Anvil, Part 2

Jerric and Darnand parted company at Horse Whisperer Stables. Jerric took his time getting Flash settled and rearranging his packs. Now that he could see Anvil's walls, he felt reluctant to close himself within them.

The short walk to the Mages Guild hall did nothing to ease his disquiet. Townsfolk greeted him with curious stares, and he could hear the trail of excited talk he left behind him. He dropped his packs in the entry hall. Carahil was not at her counter, so he stepped into the reception room.

Marc Gulitte sat there, reading. "It's Jerric!" he called out, and voices in the dining room passed on the news. Soon the small reception room filled with babbling mages. Jerric didn't recognize most of them. Students, he thought. And folk on the move, seeking safety in the cities.

The pity he saw in their faces turned his stomach, and the morbid curiosity in some was worse. There were too many questions, he couldn't even connect them with people. He felt the ceiling closing down on him with the weight of the building above it. The urge to bolt for the door was nearly overwhelming.

"Jerric," said a voice at his shoulder, and he turned to see Darnand beside him. His solemn face held concern and the last thing Jerric would have expected. Understanding. "I have finished with Carahil. Let us go."

Jerric followed Darnand's back through the crowd, but Carahil stopped them in the front hall. "Jerric, I am pleased that you have returned to us. I wish to see you when you've rested. I would like to discuss today's events."

Jerric looked at her numbly. Part of him saw Darnand cast a spell and lift up his largest pack from the pile by the door.

"Get the rest, will you," Darnand said quietly. "Remember, I am a mere Breton." When the ghost of a smile touched Darnand's face, Jerric realized that he wasn't alone any more.

He followed Darnand over to the evergreen oak in the middle of the plaza, and they stopped beneath it. "All right, breathe." Jerric did as he was told. "Now look at me. Are you going to want to drink? A woman? I need to know where to take you." Jerric just shook his head, he had no idea. "I shall take you to the Count's Arms, then. I know it is not your kind of place, but it is close and they have the best food. In a day or two we can decide what comes next. You were feral for a while, but you can come back from that. Just trust me."

The next thing he knew he was standing in the middle of the Count's Arms common room listening to Darnand argue with the publican.

"You will give him that center room in the front. I don not care if you are expecting the High Chancellor himself this weekend, that man is a hero. Unless you wanted an inn full of daedra, you should be thanking him. No, he will stay until he is ready to leave. Do not bother him. Send someone up with water, and a hot meal with some meat. I do not care what time it is, he is not waiting for dinner. Someone from the Mages Guild will probably check on him, you should give them your cooperation."

Darnand returned to his side and picked up the pack with a grunt. "By Azura, what is in this thing?" He cast another spell and headed for the stairs.

Jerric followed him again, and he found himself in the finest suite he had ever seen. A highly polished dining table sat to the right of the door, and a linen press gleamed against the wall to his left. Deep burgundy rugs covered the floor, and their colors were picked up in the bed cover and matching wall hangings. Three wide steps led up to the massive bed placed under wide windows. Jerric stood in the middle of the space feeling like a wild creature that had found its way indoors.

Darnand dropped the pack and opened the windows. "Look, you can see that big tree you like from here, and you will get a breeze. Get your armor off, I do not know how you do it. Ugh, all this hero business has not improved your smell. If you can stand it, you could really use a trip to the bath house. Do you have anything left that is clean? Not even close. Look, give me your laundry and I will drop it off. The bath house is behind the inn. I will meet you there with something that will fit. Did you lose your shaving kit? Then bring it, unless you like being mistaken for an Imga. We can deal with your hair later. It looks like you have been cutting it with a sword."

Jerric finally found his voice. "Thank you."

Darnand gave him a steadying look. "Just get through the next thing, all right? I will see you soon."

He was true to his word, and Jerric was shortly headed back up the inn stairs with a towel around his neck, tripping over a borrowed robe. "I've never worn a dress before," he told Darnand, but he couldn't quite find a smile to go with the words.

"You are hilarious. I do not know anyone whose trousers would fit you. Carahil had this robe."

"I wonder where she got it." Speculating on Carahil's sexual history got them back to the room, and Jerric's meal was waiting. When he sat down in front of it, he realized he was starving. Darnand declined the food, but he poured himself a goblet of water and sat down at the table. His quiet company was an anchor for Jerric.

He pushed back his empty plate and drank the rest of his water, then he looked across at Darnand. "How did you know?" Jerric asked.

"I lost both of my parents when I was seventeen. It was a carriage accident. My brother threw me out of the house before the end of the week. My friends did not know what to do with me." Darnand met his eyes without pity. "Keep doing the little things, they will remind you how to live." Darnand stood and gathered up the dishes.

"I need to get my head straight. I thought I was ready for people, but I'm not."

"I believe tomorrow will be better. They are all talking about you now, maybe they will get it out of their systems. Get the door, will you? You should go to bed before you drop on the floor. Abiene will probably be here any moment, I saw her watch which way we headed. She will not be satisfied until she sees you herself. She can be a little overbearing even for a healer, and there is not anyone alive who is not her patient."

"Abiene was there? I didn't see her."

Darnand stood in the doorway holding the tray. "I am not surprised, you looked like you were about to come apart. I did not get you a nightshirt, mind your manners."

Jerric smiled a little. "I'm sure she's seen it all. You know, healer." He watched Darnand turn toward the stairs. "Thanks, Darnand."

"Get some sleep, Jerric."

He climbed into bed and thought that somehow it didn't seem real. The sheets felt cold and smooth against his skin, but when he closed his eyes, all he could see was fire. A soft knock on the door got him back out of the bed.

"Abiene." He stood in the doorway looking down at her face. Her expression was calm, but her eyes showed him the depth of her concern.

I never even let her know I was alive, he realized. The wall he had built around his grief began to crack.

"Let me in, Jerric. I'm going to look at you." He shut the door behind her, and she walked briskly to the bed. She pulled the covers all the way back. "Lie down so I can reach you."

"I don't need healing."

"I'm the one who gets to tell you that. You look better than you did a few hours ago, but that's just the surface. What do you think you're hiding with that towel? Come on, Jerric."

She looked stern enough to make him think her interest was professional. He hadn't thought of her in weeks, and now she filled his mind. He did as he was told. She sat on the edge of the bed beside him.

Jerric watched her face as she began to examine him, but he had to close his eyes against the pain he saw growing there. He felt her cool hands moving over him, finding and testing his newest scars. Her gentle touch lingered the longest on his face. She soothed away the hurts he didn't realize he still carried. When she finished, he found she had tears on her cheeks.

"What is it?" he asked. He pushed himself up to reach for her.

Her sadness was too much for him, and his own grief closed over his head like a suffocating wave. He held on to her for a long time, shaking so hard he feared they both might break.

Finally he could breathe again. "I'm all right," he told her. He slipped out of her arms and lay back on the bed, exhausted. The relief he felt came as a surprise.

He caught her hands when she wiped the tears from his face. "I'll sleep now," he whispered against her fingers, and he didn't recognize his own voice. His heart began to fill with the things he knew he wouldn't say to her. "I'm glad I got to see you again, Abiene."

When he closed his eyes, he found that for now the fire had receded. He let her pull the covers up over him. The last thing he heard as he fell asleep was the door clicking shut behind her.

___

Abiene stood in the hall outside Jerric's room, composing herself. The thought that she could dismiss him as a summer fling seemed so childish now. What am I going to do about this, she asked herself. Why does he make me feel this way? I wish there were two of me.

"First things first," she murmured aloud. She walked quickly down the stairs and out into the slanting sunlight. The chapel bells rang out across the city five times as she passed through the Harbor Gate. She felt safe walking along the docks to the warehouses. Her position as a healer endeared her to many, and the rough sort who made their living on the waterfront often faced injury.

The door to the Running Wolf office stood open to the pleasant air. She nodded to Shasana as she stepped through to the small office. "Hail, Ongve. May I speak with you?"

Ongve rose and indicated the chair in front of his desk. "Indeed, Abiene. Well met. What can I do for you?"

They sat. "I want to thank you for your assistance the last time I came here. I'm afraid I was too upset to do so at the time."

"Completely understandable. It has been difficult for many."

"Did you get the message I sent when I learned Jerric is alive?"

"I did, and I've been hoping he would walk through that door every day. He's a hard working man for all the trouble, and I have a job for him if he should want it."

"That is what brings me to you today, Ongve. Jerric has returned to Anvil. I don't know what he plans to do, but…" She looked down at her hands twisting together in her lap, then she met Ongve's eyes again. "I know it's not my place, but I want to know what his options are. I want to encourage him to stay."

Comprehension grew in Ongve's in face. "Well, you can tell him he has a job with me. He'll need to find a place to live. He can ask about homes for sale at the castle, or I can tell you what I know about places for rent. He can always stay with me and Shasana. You did well to come to me, Abiene. "

"Would you give me some idea what to tell him about a place to rent? It should be available for the short term, I don't want him to have to make much of a commitment. And I think he wants…" She looked down at her hands again. This is what I want, she realized. "He'll want some privacy."

"Well that narrows it down quite a bit. There's no privacy in a boarding house. I know Newheim the Portly has some small houses he rents in the Westgate district, but I don't know if there's one available. You can find him most evenings at the Count's Arms. Norbert Lelles has some beach huts, they're not much, but they're private. They're outside the city wall, of course. You can usually find Lelles Harborside in the evening at the Flowing Bowl. I'm sure there's more to be found, but that's a good place to start."

"Thank you for your help, Ongve. I'll tell him."

"How did he escape, do you know? Is it possible that anyone else from his family made it?"

"No. He wasn't there during the attack. He arrived the next day, I don't know why. No one else in his family survived."

"His father and I were partners since before Jerric was born. I'll do whatever I can for him."

Abiene nodded gratefully. "I'll tell him."

She hurried back to the guild hall and penned a quick note in her room. The bell rang announcing dinner as she blew across the ink to dry it. No time to freshen up, she sighed to herself.

Carahil walked out of her small office just as Abiene scooted through the dining room door. Since Glafeviel had gone to Kvatch, Abiene didn't have to fight to get the spot between Darnand and Thaurron at the table.

Darnand held her hand as she stepped over the bench, and she slipped him the note when he sat down beside her. "Some places Jerric could rent," she said softly.

Darnand looked surprised. "Thank you, Abiene." It seemed he would like to say more, but he just nodded and tucked the note into his robe.

Abiene's stomach gave a nervous little jump. She peeked sideways at his lean profile, remembering how he had opened a path through the crowd with a single glare. He had looked so commanding, and Jerric had looked so lost.

What am I doing, she wondered again. When he glanced back at her, she smiled at him and picked up her wine.

.

This post has been edited by Grits: Jun 30 2025, 01:41 AM

[haute ecole rider]

This chapter was short on action, but that's okay, because it was long on emotion!

Jerric's shell-shocked condition was quite real, as were Darnit Dammit Darnand and Abiene's reactions to it. And Abiene seems even more confused now than ever. Nothing like seeing the man you love being beat up like this to really bring those feelings home.

So Abby, which is it going to be? Jerry? Or Darnit?

[mALX]

You did a great job of demonstrating Jerric's PTSD in this, very realistic. Another very powerful write, especially all the scenes that included Abiene and the emotions of both her and Jerric, her inner turmoil. It is impossible to see this as your first stab as writing, if it is - you have found a niche you belong in. Once again you have left me speechless and gobbling like a turkey. AWESOME WRITE - yes, but it doesn't begin to cover what you have given this story.

[Acadian]

A delightful interlude!

Darnand took great care of Jerric. His actions and gestures speak volumes about his character, and all of it good. Nice that you revealed how Darnand learned to understand what he felt Jerric might be going through.

And Abiene. You captured her caring and healing wonderfully. Nice touch to relay her 'real estate' research to Darnand by note at dinner - and the perfect opportunity to again emphasize her indecision about the two men.


Nit:
'Jerric followed him again, and he found himself in the finest suite he had ever had ever seen.'
An unintentional repeat of 'had ever' near the end of this.

[SubRosa]

Jerric stood in the middle of the space feeling like a wild creature that had found its way indoors.
This one sentence really sums up Jerric's return to Anvil, and civilization.

Jerric is lucky to have two friends like Darnit Darnand and Abiene. As the healer observed at the end of the story, our intrepid Nord has been lost in a fog these last few episodes, and would be in even direr straits without them to lean on.

[Grits]

haute ecole rider: I’m glad those three came across for you, thank you very much for letting me know. You’re right, Abiene is even more confused. Getting him back damaged was not something she had thought through, and Darnand hasn’t given her much to work with.

mALX: What a tremendous compliment, mALX! Everything I’ve written is right here on this forum. Well, not the equipment specs, sales proposals, and the like, but all of the fiction. That’s why I can’t emphasis enough how much the support and guidance here means to me! I have rough ideas about what’s going to happen with the characters, and of course the main quest plot, but the feedback you provide has a big impact on what I’m writing. I can’t thank you enough for it!!!

Acadian: This is perfect!!! Jerric's Story illustrated. Thank you for your kind words about Darnand and Abiene. Jerric and Darnand are like a dog and a cat, even Jerric wondered why he was helping. Thank you for spotting that nit so I could fix it.

SubRosa: You’re absolutely right, he is no loner. Anvil is a long walk from CRT, I doubt if he would have made it without the vague hope of a soft landing at the end. Thank you for pointing out that quote, it is sort of a one-sentence summary.



Chapter 9: Anvil, Part 3

Jerric and Darnand walked out of Anvil’s Dock Gate and turned toward the harbor. The castle made a distant hump in the mid-morning glare. Jerric’s feet caught in his robe, and he staggered again. “Drunk already?” Darnand inquired. “I thought you said you missed breakfast. Pick up the front, if you must.”

Jerric lifted his hem, then he realized that he was mincing along in a fashion that might be described as womanish. He glanced over at Darnand. The Breton strode forward with his head up and eyes forward, cloak billowing out behind him. He would look like some High Rock prince, if not for the smirk barely evident on his face. Aha, thought Jerric. He imitated the way Darnand kicked his robe out as he walked. An arresting scent interrupted his Breton impression.

“Redguard food!” he exclaimed. “Look, a dumpling stand. Come on, loan me a Septim.” They made the exchange with a smiling, round-cheeked lass. While Darnand secured his coin purse, Jerric quietly rolled his eyes over the first savory mouthful. He neatly rewrapped the fried triangle and held it out to Darnand as they walked. “Here, you must be hungry.”

“I suppose, but I don’t think about it.”

“How can you not think about it?”

“I think with my mind, not my…” he gestured at Jerric, “general belt area.”

“Well try it, and let me know how it is.” Darnand bit off a corner and handed it back to Jerric, nodding his appreciation. “Ugh,” said Jerric. “Was there already a bite taken out of that?”

Minced meat, dough, onions, and spices flew in a swath onto the cobbles and two approaching Nords. Jerric couldn’t make out their objections over his own wheezing laughter. He leaned against a lamp post, wiping the tears from his eyes. Darnand was busy trying to swab his tongue while apologizing to the dock workers. Eventually they went on their way, each with another of Darnand’s coins in his hands. Darnand glared at Jerric. “Now that’s three you owe me.”

“Add it to my tab.” Jerric thumped him on the shoulder. “I took the bite. I guess you don’t mind my spit.” He unwrapped the dumpling and bit off another mouthful, then offered it back to Darnand.

“You saw a healer last night. I doubt you have had time to catch the pox since then, although it is possible.” Darnand took a huge bite. “You will be lucky if I give this back,” he said around the food. “You are right, this is delicious.”

Jerric and Darnand proceeded down the harbor. Low, chinked log buildings lined edge of the boardwalk, with warehouses looming along the city wall behind. The shops and taverns were open for business, but foot traffic was still fairly light. It was easy to spot the Redguard woman swaggering toward them. Her tall, heeled boots were folded over in a wide cuff. She wore low slung, tight leather pants and little else. Her hair was a mass of beaded braids, and they swung and clacked around her shoulders as she walked. Both men slowed their pace. “Whoa, would you look at —”

“Indeed,” Darnand agreed. “I have seen undergarments that cover more than that top. She must be freezing.”

“Well, she’s at least a little cold. Look at the muscles on her. I bet she could ride to Sentinel and back.”

“I doubt either of us will receive such an invitation.”

“There is no place on that woman that I wouldn’t put my– Morning,” Jerric said to her as she walked between them. She laughed, and it was not a friendly sound. They turned to watch her saunter up the boardwalk. “Did you see that cutlass? I’d love to get my hands on that,” he continued.

“She must have come from one of those ships. I expect she is a sailor.”

“How does she even get into those pants?” Jerric looked over at Darnand as they started walking again. “So, brothel?”

Darnand snorted. “Not for me, and you lack the coin.”

“What’s the situation? Do you have a girlfriend somewhere?”

“No. I just happen to think it should mean something, with someone special.”

“I couldn’t agree more, Darnand. Good thing I think all women are special.” Jerric saw that they were approaching Lelles’ store. “Look, I think you should negotiate the rent. You can say it’s not safe to live out on the beach. I don’t think he’d accept that argument from me.”

Darnand eyed him. “Indeed, you look quite capable of mayhem in that fur trimmed velvet robe. You should have worn your hero armor. He might have given you the first month for free.”

“Morvayn has it until tomorrow, maybe longer. I can’t wait for that, Wilbur wants me out of his inn.”

Darnand scowled. “What has occurred? I thought he agreed to let you stay as long as I paid.”

“Doesn’t like the noise, or something. Guests are upset. He said they thought someone was being murdered last night. I woke up, but I didn’t hear a thing. Don’t know what he’s talking about.” Jerric finished the dumpling. “Maybe you can charm Lelles. I mean a spell, not your natural charm.” He smiled at his own joke.

“I agree, I will talk to Lelles for you. I have seen you negotiate, it best resembles a puppy rolling over to have its belly rubbed. I am certain you could bargain my entire savings away.”

“What are you saving for?”

“A place where I can work in peace, free of curious Nords and other children.”

“All right then, don’t tell me. I know an Altmer near Aleswell you should meet. He turned himself invisible so he could avoid people. You two could have a hating contest.”

Darnand looked over with interest. “Was this a sustained invisibility?”

Jerric snorted. They had reached the shop.

“Wait outside,” Darnand told him. “I don’t want you to interrupt me with a sudden need for Lelles to like you.”

Jerric stood in the cool sun, enjoying the relative peace of the harbor. Gulls cried in the cloudless sky, diving and fighting for scraps from the fishing boats. Longshoremen shifted cargo with minimal shouting, but with a great deal of crashing. Some children were crabbing at the edge of the boardwalk. They dangled baited lines into the water. Jerric ambled over to view their catch. “Do you want to buy some crabs, sir?” asked a deeply tanned Imperial boy.

“No thanks.” He watched the Redguard sailor strut past again. A tattoo covered most of her back, but he couldn’t tell what it was. The sun caught a ridged scar over her hip. She turned down one of the docks, heading for a galleon. “What’s that ship, there?”

“She’s the Serpent’s Wake, sir. Just back from the Summerset Isles.”

A creaking door drew Jerric’s attention back to the shops. He turned to find Darnand stepping out of Lelles’ store. “If I find it is a pile of dreck, I shall have words with you,” he snapped at the merchant.

“It’s the only roof left for rent in Anvil. I’ve thrown in a cleaning, what more do you want?” Lelles called after him. He spotted Jerric and nodded to him. “Good day to you.”

Jerric opened his mouth to answer, but Darnand yanked him by the arm. “Let us remove ourselves while he still thinks he has bested me.” Darnand stomped up the harbor for a few paces, then he relaxed and turned to Jerric. “Here is your key. It is the hut on the end. There is a well behind the dunes next to the privy, which sounds ill-advised. If I were you I should carry my water from town.”

“Thanks, Darnand. My own place, hard to believe.”

“Your own as long as you pay him. Speaking of which, what is your plan?”

“First I need to buy some clothes. My laundry isn’t ready yet, and I’m not joining the Fighters Guild wearing a velvet dress.” Darnand was giving him a patient stare. “Oh, you mean for money. Well, I’ve been thinking. Running Wolf would pay my bills, but I need more than that. Fighters Guild might have something, but they might not pay well to start. I’ll ask around about some high-risk jobs.” He glanced over to make sure Darnand was still listening. “You said you were saving, too. More risk means more reward. I think we can help each other out.”

Darnand did look interested. “You also spoke about training.”

“Yeah. That’s why I need coin, to train and buy better gear. And spells. For when I go back into the Deadlands. The Sigil Towers are more heavily guarded now than the one at Kvatch. I guess they were surprised that I closed that one. I’ve seen daedroths in the wastelands, too. I can’t kill those on my own, I need to be able to summon stronger allies. I’d be dead many times over if I didn’t have that little pearl ring to show me the big fetchers. I need more experience against armored dremora. It takes me too long to finish them with a blade, and sometimes they have company. And the last Gate I closed had a storm atronach guarding the sigil stone. I had to grab the stone and jump, I didn’t even know how to fight it. I need a strong shock spell I can use. A touch spell, it’s too hard to aim while I’m moving in that terrain. I have sigil stones that carry powerful enchantments, but not weapons I want to use them on. I need coin to recharge Redeemer, too. Also I’ve used up all of my potions. I wouldn’t last five minutes in the Deadlands right now. I’ve been lucky, Darnand. I hope you can help me get ready to go back.”

Darnand looked thoughtful for several minutes while they walked. “I can summon dremora for you to fight. I can summon a daedroth as well, but I hesitate to do so inside the city. I have been doing some reading that might help you, I shall take another look before we speak again.” He thought for another moment. “Athragar in Chorrol has the summons spells you need. I will not try to teach you the ones I know, that would be far too dangerous. If you are an expert in destruction we can go to Adrienne Berene. Otherwise, Vigge the Cautious will have the shock spell.”

“Vigge. We’ll go to Kvatch then.” He looked at Darnand to make sure he meant both of them. “You can get your recommendation while we’re there.”

Darnand nodded. “Now, you need to be able to trap soul energy in a gem, so you can recharge your own weapons. That means you need to reach apprentice level in mysticism. You can start by learning how to detect the energy in living things, and then practicing. I am certain I can teach you that, but let us keep that knowledge between ourselves. It is the same energy you capture when you cast a spell to trap a soul.”

“Like my ring shows me, it looks kind of pink. I have a sigil stone that carries an enchantment to trap energy, but I’m not going to steal any souls. There has to be another way.”

Darnand grabbed his arm as they walked, his face alight with excitement. “One of your sigil stones? That would be ideal, it would save so much time! You could start right away, and sell filled gems back to Gulitte. Now just listen. You know the energy in soul gems?”

“That’s souls?” Jerric asked, aghast. He had never connected the name with anything.

“We are talking about the energy that is released when a soul leaves the body, not the soul itself. The life energy of a living creature, not plants. Even a mudcrab has it.”

“But the souls might need it. For their journey. Maybe that’s where ghosts come from.” He scratched his hand through his hair in agitation.

“Let us consider it. Have you ever heard of a ghost mudcrab? A rat haunting? It is just energy, Jerric. You call it magicka when it is in your sword. You can make a chair out of a piece of wood, or a bow, or put it on the fire. It is still wood. Giving it a different name and use does not make the thing different. Besides, you need black soul gems to capture human souls. Which is wrong,” he added quickly.

Jerric thought for a few moments before he could accept Darnand’s explanation. “It sounds like we have a plan. Earn some coin, go to Kvatch, then on to Chorrol.” He sighed. “I hate to say it, but I think we’re going to have to go underground. Fort ruins, bandit lairs, places that fall between the Legion and the Anvil Guard’s jurisdictions. I know an Altmer who will pay for some old wine, maybe we can find some of that. She said it’s rare, though, so I guess we’ll just have to get started and see what we find.”

They stopped, and Jerric looked at Darnand curiously. Darnand gestured to the building beside them. “Clothing. You said you need some. This is a clothier’s shop.” He handed his coin purse to Jerric. “Just add it to what you owe me, I think you can handle buying your own breeches.”

“Thanks, Darnand.” Darnand raised his hand as he walked away. Jerric took a deep breath and entered the shop. Every kind of trim and fabric in all colors of the rainbow assaulted his eyes. There wasn’t an inch of space in the room that wasn’t stacked or packed with clothing.

“Greetings, Nord,” said the shopkeeper. An Imperial woman, about his age and softly pretty. Her sweet brown eyes made him think of Abiene.

“Greetings. I need some clothes.”

“Well, you’re in the right place,” she said pleasantly. Her hands were filled with some frilly thing. “I’ll be with you in a moment. You can go ahead and get started. Step behind the screen and remove your robe, if you please.”

Jerric walked over to the corner where a curtain screened off an area of the shop. He ducked behind it and pulled the robe off over his head. I guess she’s going to bring me some things, he thought. “Is this your shop?” he asked her. His boots thumped when he dropped them on the wooden floor.

“It is. I am the Tulia of Tulia’s Threads.”

“I’m Jerric. Pleased to meet you.” He heard Tulia walk briskly over to the alcove. He jumped when she whipped the curtain back. Both of them stood frozen for a moment. “I, uh, also need to buy some drawers,” said Jerric. “As you can see.”

“If you need drawers, why on Nirn did you take off your clothes?” He couldn’t tell if she was more amused or astonished.

“Well, you told me to!” Jerric was beginning to feel uncomfortable. “Why do you need me to be naked?”

“I don’t! I just want to get accurate measurements.” She lifted the end of the tape measure she wore draped over her shoulders.

“You want to measure it?”

Tulia’s eyes flew back up to his face. “No! Well, yes. Your waist. And inseam. And your – I’ll likely have to make what you want, you’ll order it from me. My goodness, how old are you? How is it possible you don’t know how to buy clothing?”

“My Ma used to buy them for me.” Tulia looked skeptical. “Really.” Jerric noticed that Tulia was standing very close to him, and she smelled nice. He decided that her gown was quite flattering, especially at the top. He crossed his hands in front of himself. “Look, in a moment this is going to get embarrassing.”

“I’ll find some undergarments for you. Normal people wear them in these situations. I didn’t think I would ever be surprised again, but you’ve managed it.”

“All right, now I know. I mean, if I had them, I wouldn’t need to be here.”

“Then let’s just forget about this and start over.” The twinkle in her eyes told him she had no intention of forgetting. She closed the curtain, and he heard her light steps moving about the shop. A moment later a pair of linen shorts with a drawstring waist appeared over the curtain. “These should fit. And I’m sure I have some simple trousers that you can wear, and perhaps a knit shirt. But I’ll need to measure you for whatever else you’ll want.”

Jerric pulled on his new drawers. He smiled and shook his head. “Ready,” he said.

This post has been edited by Grits: Mar 18 2011, 05:02 PM

[haute ecole rider]

“You want to measure it?”

Tulia’s eyes flew back up to his face. “No! Well, yes.

This is absolutely delightful!

“No. I just happen to think it should mean something, with someone special.”

“I couldn’t agree more, Darnand. Good thing I think all women are special.”

Somehow I'm not surprised he said that! That's some big-hearted man!

So now Darn and Jerry are gonna go adventuring together? Do I sense a budding bromance coming up? I always did enjoy a bit of male bonding, you know!

[mALX]

Your ability to set mood with dialogue is amazing !! The two quotes I would make as my faves (if I was on a working PC, that is) - Jerric realizing he was mincing in the dress, and of course the clothing shop !!!

I have a sneaking suspicion Darnand would like to see Jerric's interest go in the direction of Tulia rather than risk Jerric enticing Abiene away from him with that natural charm of his.

As always, AWESOME WRITE !!!!