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

[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’m finished with Carahil. Let’s 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, and 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’m just a Breton.” The ghost of a smile touched Darnand’s face, and 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’m taking you to the Count’s Arms, then. I know it’s not your kind of place, but it’s close and they have the best food. In a day or two we can decide what’s 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. “He’s getting that center room in the front. I don’t care if you’re expecting the High Chancellor this weekend, that man is a hero. Unless you wanted an inn full of daedra, you should be thanking him. No, he’ll stay until he’s ready to leave. Don’t bother him. Send someone up with water, and a hot meal with some meat. I don’t care what time it is, he’s 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’s 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’ll get a breeze. Get your armor off, I don’t know how you do it. Ugh, all this hero business hasn’t made you smell any better. If you can stand it, you could really use a trip to the bath house. Do you have anything left that’s clean? Not even close. Look, give me your laundry and I’ll drop it off. The bath house is behind the inn. I’ll meet you there with something that will fit. Did you lose your shaving kit? Then bring it, unless you like being mistaken for a yeti. We can deal with your hair later. It looks like you’ve 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’ll 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’re hilarious. I don’t 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?”

“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 didn’t know what to do with me.” Darnand met his eyes without pity. “Keep doing the little things, they’ll 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’re all talking about you now, maybe they’ll 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 won’t be satisfied until she sees you herself. She can be a little overbearing even for a healer, and there isn’t anyone alive who isn’t her patient.”

“Abiene was there? I didn’t see her.”

Darnand stood in the doorway holding the tray. “I’m not surprised, you looked like you were about to come apart. I didn’t 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: Mar 16 2011, 01:21 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 !!!!

[SubRosa]

So Jerric and Darnand are swapping spit now? What a cute couple they make. I guess Abiene is going to have to look elsewhere for romance!

Good thing I think all women are special
Yep, typical male.

Sounds like Jerric snores too, given Wilbur's complaints!

You show a wonderful contrast between Jerric and Darnand. Like you said before, a cat and a dog indeed. Darnand's discussion on soul trapping was enlightening, and Jerric's laundry list of what he needs to learn was truly daunting!

I know an Altmer who will pay for some old wine,
And she cuts hair too!

“If you need drawers, why on Nirn did you take off your clothes?”
This is the kind of situation only Jerric can get himself into!




nits:
Sommerset Isles.
Normally that is Summerset, unless you are changing it.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Mar 18 2011, 05:03 PM

[Acadian]

An enjoyable walk along the Anvil boardwalk, with plenty of local flavor!

Seems like Jerric is planning some time to significantly upgrade his capabilities, and his wardrobe. Sounds like a prudent plan, and it is nice that he has some help.

[TheOtherRick]

Here is yet another story that I am just now getting around to reading. I started it this morning and so far I am thoroughly enjoying it. I picture Jerric as looking like Bill Fagerbakke (from Coach and The Stand), but with a touch more intelligence than Fagerbakke's characters. He seems carefree, clumsy, and oafish, until he is armed and fighting. The overnight antics, first with Velwyn at Brinna's Cross and then Jerric waking up in 'chew your arm off' mode, are hilarious.

Great writing and I'm looking forward to reading more.

[Grits]

haute ecole rider: Jerric gave Tulia a blonde moment of her own. You’re right about the adventuring, but first a little more business.

mALX: Thank you mALX, it was nice to have a little fun. Darnand should definitely be paying closer attention.

SubRosa: My germaphobe friend inspired the spit swapping. One time we accidentally switched wine glasses, and I thought he might throw up on my shoes. Instead he said, “Oh, well I don’t mind your spit.” That was real acceptance! Thank you for the nit, I fixed it.

Acadian: It’s good to have friends. Sadly no one has explained the concept of matching shoes to Jerric, so he still won’t need a magical bag to carry his wardrobe.

TheOtherRick: I’m so glad you’re enjoying the story so far! Yes, Jerric is definitely the big blonde in the room. I really like Bill Fagerbakke, but let’s imagine a different voice for him -- now I keep hearing Patrick Star!! I’m glad you’re reading, and I hope we can keep your interest.

Recap: It’s Jerric’s first full day back in Anvil. This morning he rented a house and did some shopping with a little help from friends.


Chapter 9: Anvil, Part 4 Moving In

Jerric walked along the beach in the afternoon sun. Surf crashed along his left, sending cold spray into the breeze. A row of small, wooden huts backed against the dunes on his right. Smoke trickled out of a few chimneys, but he didn’t see any of his neighbors. He walked to the hut on the end and looked in through the open door.

A middle aged Imperial woman stood there with a brush in one hand and a dust pan in the other. She possessed a round little figure, lively gray eyes, and tidy hair in an unlikely shade of red. When she tipped her head to the side she made Jerric think of a busy little sparrow. He quickly decided not to voice the comparison. She eyed him speculatively.

“I’m Jerric,” he said.

“Vania. I’m the cleaner. I suppose you’re the new tenant.”

“Yes, I am. Pleased to meet you.”

“We’re not finished, it’ll be a few more hours. The girls are on their way back with your new mattress. I’m not even going to tell you what was on the old one.”

“All right then, probably for the best. Is there anything I can do?”

She looked him up and down. “I don’t know. Is there?”

“Well, I can shift anything in there. And I guess I can sweep.”

She gave him a brisk nod, and he thought he saw a dimple. “In that case, get that lot outside so I can scrub the floor. I don’t think it’s been done since the day they laid it.”

Jerric dropped his packs and packages on the dune grass and got to work. There weren’t many pieces of furniture in his hut, and all of them were plain, solid wood. He supposed that’s how they had reached their current advanced age. He carried two small chests of drawers, a cupboard, a trunk, a tall set of shelves, one sturdy chair, and a small table outside into the sun. When he dragged the bed frame out he decided that while it looked long enough for a Nord, it could stand to be a little wider. He stripped off his shirt and swabbed his face with it, then stuffed it into the back of his waistband so he’d know where to find it. Somehow the room looked smaller without the furniture.

Vania eyed his bare torso. “It’s Evening Star.”

Jerric shrugged. “I’m hot.”

“Grab a broom,” said Vania. “We’ll sweep, then I’ll scrub.” Jerric started in one corner, Vania in the other. He had raised a decent cloud of dirt when Vania started shouting. “Nord, what are you doing?!”

Jerric looked up, perplexed. “Sweeping.”

“And where do you think all the dirt is going?”

He looked around. “Away.”

“It’s going up, then it will come back down in here again. It needs to go out. Make a pile and sweep toward the door.” She watched him sternly, and he smiled to think how this small woman was suddenly the boss of him. Imperials, he thought.

“How’s that?” he asked her.

“Better. In my opinion, you should stick to your heroics and leave the cleaning to professionals. Lion of Kvatch.” Jerric saw that she was smiling at him. “Everyone in these parts owes you a debt of gratitude. I know I’ll never forget it.”

“Uh…” Jerric was saved from his discomfort by a shriek from the dunes. He and Vania stepped through the wide doorway and looked around behind the hut. Two teenage girls walked along the path carrying a rolled mattress between them. Their shouts and laughter floated down on the breeze. Jerric glanced over at Vania.

“Two of my daughters,” she said. She gave him another stern look. “Fifteen and seventeen. Hero or not, don’t even think about it.”

“Right.” Jerric decided this was a good time to put on his shirt.

“Over there, girls. Now go fetch the water. All of this needs a good scrubbing. You two wash down the furniture, I’m doing the floor.” She looked at Jerric. “You might as well go off for a while, I don’t know what will happen if I turn you loose on some soap and water. Go get yourself a new cook pot, it seems the last tenant couldn’t be bothered to walk to the privy.”

“All right, Vania. I guess I’ll go for a run and maybe a swim. It’s been a talking kind of day.”

“Do you want me to come back and clean for you, or are you going to do it yourself?”

It took Jerric a moment to figure out her meaning. He had always thought that things just stayed clean. “All right,” he said uncertainly.

Vania nodded. “I’ll come once a week for ten drakes, or every two weeks for fifteen. I’ll charge you more if you turn out to be a slob. Sweep, dust, wash the floor, dishes, change the sheets. That means you’ll need two sets, I can’t do your wash out here. Do you want me to do your laundry?”

“Sure, but I don’t have a week’s worth of clothes. Uh, I don’t have sheets yet, either.” Jerric realized that he’d never given much thought to his domestic arrangements.

Vania shook her head. “Bachelors. You’re my bread and butter, but most of you still need your mothers.” A sudden look of horror crossed her face. “Apologies, Jerric.”

“No, Vania, you’re right. I was about to ask you how many pairs of drawers I should buy.” He smiled at her, and some of the discomfort left her face. “Once a week then, plus laundry. How do we do it, I take it to your house?”

“I’ll pick it up when I clean, then I’ll send my girls out to drop it off when it’s ready. It’ll take longer if it’s raining. Where should they leave it?” The two of them looked around the small covered porch.

“I tell you what, I think I’ll just leave the door unlocked. I’ll latch it from the inside when I’m home, so you don’t have to worry that they’ll open the door and get any surprises. I don’t have anything worth stealing out here. The salt air is bad for metal, so most of my gear is up at the guild hall.”

“That sounds good, Jerric.” She looked up at him and smiled, and this time he definitely saw dimples.

___

Jerric made a small fire more for its crackling company than for its heat. He looked around his new home. He had what he needed here, but it didn’t give him any comfort. The peace he had found in the day’s activities had evaporated. He tried to pace, but there wasn’t room. He considered going for another run, but the moons weren’t up yet. Shadows already crept up in his mind. Tonight could be a bad one. He realized that he missed his horse.

A light knock on the door brought his attention back to the room. He knew Abiene would be there before he opened it. She stood with the darkness at her back, her face lit by his small fire. She held a small satchel in her hands. “Moving in?” he joked, but he couldn’t quite manage a smile.

“I want to take another look at the scar on your shoulder. It bothers you, doesn’t it?” She gave him a little shove to get in through the door.

“It itches. It’s not the end of the world, though.” Jerric winced at his choice of words. He took Abiene’s cloak, watching her warily. He had avoided her at the guild hall, worried how he might react to her.

“Come on,” she instructed. She pushed him into the chair and pulled his shirt over his head. “Cooperate.” She moved behind him, and he felt her smooth hands running over his skin again. The scar did pull and itch. “It’s adhered,” she told him. “I’d like to work on it some more.”

“All right.”

“Not here. I’ll need to cut you a little. I want Carahil to observe.” She ran her hands over his shoulders and down his chest. He felt her face against the top of his head, then against his neck.

“Abiene, what are you doing?”

“Trying to get close to you. You’re making it difficult.” She moved to the table and opened the satchel. “I’ve brought you kahve beans, bread, cheese, and apples for the morning. Would you like some ale?”

“Not now, but thank you. Look, we had some fun this summer, but I’m not the same.” Jerric stood up and offered her the chair, but she shook her head. There was nowhere else for him to be, so he sat back down. “There’s work I need to do, to get ready for what’s coming. I’m already behind.” He wanted to reach for her, but fear stopped his hands.

“You’re right, I see the change in you. There’s a part of you now that I can’t reach. But the rest is still you, Jerric. Torn apart inside, and hurting. Please let me help you.”

“Is that why you’re here? To fix me? Don’t.”

Abiene’s face was solemn, and her eyes looked almost black in the firelight. “I’m far more selfish than you think. You don’t want to be alone, I know it. You came back here where people care for you. But you have to let me, Jerric.”

“Today I felt almost like myself again, but I know I could just crack. Remember the Count’s Arms? What if it happens again? I need to get my head right, not go backward.” He scrubbed his hands through his hair, then pressed them on his knees to still them.

“I’m not afraid, no matter what happens. Let tonight just be tonight. I’ve missed you. If you don’t want me here, you can show me the door.”

Jerric could see the strain in her face, and his own tension coiled inside him. “You should know, I’m not staying. But you’re right, I don’t want to be alone.” The moment he decided to trust her, he saw that she could tell.

“I knew you would leave before. I don’t want any promises, and I’m not offering any. That hasn’t changed.” She moved over and sat sideways on his lap with her legs between his knees. Her arm felt like it belonged there when she slipped it around his neck.

“How long ago did we say goodbye?” He took her hand and brought it to his lips. “I guess I should be glad you didn’t know I’d be back so soon. You might not have been so generous that morning.” You're not going to lose her, he told himself.

“That’s nothing compared to how I feel right now. And out here we don’t need to be quiet.” Her first kiss felt as soft as a whisper.

Jerric breathed in the light fragrance she wore in her hair, and under it the warm scent that was just Abiene. “I don’t even have sheets yet. I’ve aired out my bedroll, but it’s still pretty ripe.”

“I don’t care about that. Anyway, this chair would do just fine.” Her smile was also a challenge. “Besides, it’s your first night in a new place. Starting off right is important. For luck.”

“I’ve never had my own place before, so it’s probably even more important.” When he smiled back he saw the joy leap up in her eyes. “I guess we better do what you say. Wouldn’t want to risk it.” She hiked up her skirt and shifted around to face him. He wanted to touch her everywhere at once.

They wound up on the bed eventually. Jerric looked around his fire lit hut with new affection as they rested together. That’s my favorite chair, he thought sleepily. Abiene may be a child of Stendarr, but Dibella has blessed her far more than this Nord deserves.

“Jerric,” Abiene murmured.

“Hmm.”

“Don’t fall asleep.”

“I’m trying not to. I don’t want you to walk back to the harbor alone.” He lifted his head and smiled down at her. She looked flushed and happy. He wouldn’t have believed she could make him feel this way again. “Stay tonight, Abiene.”

“No, I don’t want the gossip. But that’s not what I meant. I’ll be fine walking back on my own.”

He closed his eyes. “I won’t hear of it. Get me up if you have to. Don’t go alone, promise.”

“What’s going to get me, a mudcrab? I’m sure I can outrun it if I see one. Anyway, wake up.”

“I’m awake.” His next breath was undeniably a snore. He forced his eyes open. “See?”

Abiene laughed, and it tickled his chest. “I want to ask you something. It’s serious.”

Jerric picked up his head and tucked his arm behind it. “All right, I’m listening.”

“I was wondering if you thought in a little while, maybe we could go again.” She had her chin braced on his chest now, and the look in her eye was pure mischief.

“What’s this maybe? I’m Jerric, have we met?” Her laugh turned into a squeak when he scooped her up and rolled her under him. “You’re going to have to wait a little, though.” Now it was his turn to get comfortable on her chest. He made sure he wasn’t crushing her on the narrow bed. “Tell me a story,” he said.

This post has been edited by Grits: Mar 21 2011, 06:57 PM

[SubRosa]

I loved Jerric's comparison of Vania to a sparrow. Especially after the excellent description you gave of her.

I’m not even going to tell you what was on the old one
Ewwww!

She looked him up and down. “I don’t know. Is there?”
Score one for Sergeant Apone! I was half-expecting Jerric to get in a load lifter afterward. Or fight an Alien Queen!

Jerric shrugged. “I’m hot.”
So Abiene says, or was that Darnand?

Go get yourself a new cook pot, it seems the last tenant couldn’t be bothered to walk to the privy
You certainly know how to paint a disgusting picture!

[Acadian]

'He had always thought that things just stayed clean.'


A pair of delightful scenes with a pair of delightful ladies in Jerric's new home.

I enjoyed meeting the little sparrow, Vania. You really brought her to life!

And a visit from Abiene that was welcome, sweet and touching. And touching again after a short break.

[haute ecole rider]

What a wonderful way to begin recovery from shell shock! First a little hut on the beach complete with its own dimpled leading lady. Then a sweet visit from Abiene! Could this get any better? I can't wait to see!

[mALX]

A wonderful chapter from beginning to end, would have to quote the whole thing to pull out any part that struck me especially. I see big trouble ahead for Darnand and Jerric's friendship, though. Awesome story - I have been hooked from the start on it, but each new chapter adds a new draw !! Awesome Write !!

[Grits]

SubRosa: A cheap beach house, welcome to the low rent district!

Acadian: I didn’t mind leaving Jerric where he was for awhile, he seemed pretty comfortable.

haute ecole rider: I’m sure at some point he’ll wish he could return to the last chapter!

mALX: You’re right, there could be trouble!

Folks: I’m trying something new this time, writing ahead a little. I like it much better this way, but it means posting will be more erratic. Still haven’t written the whole chapter first, but I’m working toward that! I appreciate your comments and support so much!


Chapter 10: Septims, Part 1

Jerric drank his morning kahve with the sunrise at his back and his feet in the Abecean Sea. The tide was out, and low waves lapped up gently around his ankles. The air was cold enough to make the water feel warm. His breath misted out, blending with the steam rising from his cup. The open water seemed to pull at him, the same way the mountains had made him want to discover what lay beyond them. He decided that the day’s goals would be more modest than that. Join the Fighters Guild. Talk to some mages. Earn a few Septims.

He started at the Fighters Guild hall. The front door opened onto a massive, open room. Racks for weapons lined the walls. Two round targets stood beside an arched doorway, and the middle of the space held a training dummy secured to the floor and a support frame with chains. Long banners hung on the high walls. Looks the same, Jerric thought. He wandered up to the dummy and gave it a casual jab. Chains rattled. They stood alone in the room.

A door opened and closed somewhere up the stairs, and the sound of booted feet preceded their owner. A balding Imperial stepped through the archway with a steaming cup in one hand and a sweet roll in the other. “Help you?” he inquired.

“Uh, yeah. I’m Jerric. I’m here to ask about signing up. I need some work.”

“Fullo Macula, porter. You’ll want to see Azzan about that. Follow me.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Jerric followed the porter through a small storage room and up the stone stairs.

The door opened into another large space, this one a dining room. The crackling fire could barely be heard over laughter from the fighters at the long dining table. “That woman is a bit off kilter,” remarked a Nord. “I don’t even want to know what she’s got in her basement.” More laughter followed his comment. Jerric’s eyes went straight to the only Redguard at the table. Rhano. Recognition flared in Rhano’s face before his expression emptied. He did not return Jerric’s nod of greeting. Jerric followed the porter through the dining room and up another set of stairs.

“Fresh meat,” the porter announced as they entered yet another massive room. This one appeared to be the company office. More banners, display cases, and shelves lined the walls. Azzan sat at a desk angled in the far corner. He waved Jerric in with one hand, the other occupied with his kahve.

The door closed behind the porter as Jerric approached the desk. “Jerric,” Azzan said. “Pull up a chair. Decided to join us?”

Jerric did as he was told. “If you’ll have me.” He noted that Azzan’s face was still unlined, and his close cut black hair was yet untouched by silver.

“We’re always looking for new members.” Azzan’s expression became grave. “We heard about what happened at Kvatch. You have my sympathy for the loss of your family. And my thanks for what followed.”

Jerric nodded. He still hadn’t found the words for this situation. He cleared his throat. “I need to earn, Azzan. And I need to train. I have some ideas for working with the Mages Guild, training against summoned daedra. This thing isn’t over.”

“Well, it sounds like the Fighters Guild has a new Associate. Congratulations. I take it you mean all of us training with the mages. I’ll give some thought to what you’ve suggested. I don’t like it, but in these times it may be necessary.”

Jerric was surprised at Azzan’s decisiveness. “Thanks. Do you have a contract for me? I need coin to get my gear back from Morvayn.”

Azzan’s expression was unreadable. “I think I’ve got something that suits your experience. Arvena Thelas has some problem with rats in her house.”

Jerric raised his eyebrows. Once again he found himself at a loss for words.

“Yes, rats,” Azzan confirmed. He sounded a little impatient. “I’m sure she can explain it to you better than I. She lives here in Anvil. Go and talk to her.”

“All right. Mind if I borrow a blade? I don’t want to represent the Fighters Guild with nothing in my hand but my… Without a weapon.”

Azzan snorted. “There’s an iron long sword in the practice room, help yourself. Go take care of the rats. Then come back and talk to me. Good luck!”

The diners were still at the table when he passed back through. He returned their greetings with a wave, not wanting to linger. Fullo introduced Jerric to Mojo, the resident shepherd dog. Jerric scratched his neck instead of reciprocating the dog’s enthusiastic crotch-sniffing. He grabbed the sword on his way out, then he ducked next door into the Mages Guild.

He found Carahil sitting in her office with a quill in her hand. “Carahil, you wanted to see me. Uh, yesterday.” He tried to keep his eyes from wandering curiously over the bookshelves behind her, but he was only marginally successful.

“Yes, Jerric. Come in and shut the door. Please seat yourself.” Jerric sat down and waited while she arranged her desk clutter. She leaned back and folded her hands. “I would like you to relate the events that occurred on the Gold Road,” she said. “I shall include your remarks in my report to the Council of Mages.”

Jerric took a moment to compose his thoughts. “I was traveling west on the road with my pack horse. It was morning, and the sun was behind me. I heard the sound of a frost attack and shouting, so I asked my horse to wait and ran to the fight. There was an Altmer woman fighting with a Breton man on the road, it was Darnand. He wasn’t using his dagger. She was wearing a blue dress, no armor. I saw the Altmer attack him with a targeted frost spell, and he cast a fire spell at her. She hit him again with her frost. When I got to them, he was down. I was shouting, but she didn’t turn around until I hit her with my own frost spell. She kept throwing fire at me until I got my sword into her chest. I guess she switched because she could see I’m a Nord. By then Darnand was back on his feet, and two Imperial Battlemages were coming at us from the west. I recognized them by the uniforms. Anyway, it looked bad for me until Darnand saw who I was and straightened things out. I’m sure I looked more like a marauder than a mage. It could have been ugly if he hadn’t kept his head. We left them with the body. I called my horse and walked with Darnand back to Anvil.”

“You called your horse… You have learned a command spell?”

“No, I whistled. I still don’t know any illusion magic.”

Carahil smiled, it seemed to herself. “Of course. Thank you, Jerric. I am sending your recommendation to the Council along with Darnand’s. You did not request one, but you have proven yourself to me by your purposeful actions in the field. I hope you will consider seeking your recommendations from the other chapters. You will need them to advance in the guild and be given any sort of responsibility. Once you have reached the rank of Apprentice, you will have access to the Arcane University. There you will be allowed to use the Praxographical Center to make your own spells and the altars of enchanting in the Chironasium. Do you plan to stay in Anvil for a time?”

“A little while. I just joined the Fighters Guild for some training, and I already have a contract for them. I found a place to live out on the beach, I won’t be staying here in the guild hall.”

“I see no conflict with the Fighters Guild until you begin to advance in rank with us, and then it will only be in the demands upon your time. Of course I would like you to take assignments from me as soon as you have been promoted to Apprentice. You need not attach yourself to this chapter to use this hall. You may have whatever space you need in the workroom. I trust you will not abuse your privilege.”

“Thank you, Carahil. I’d like to keep storing my gear here, you could break the lock on my hut with a sneeze. And I’ll need the space for alchemy. Is there anything you’d like me to do for now, as Associate? I need coin.”

“Report to Felen. He can always use extra hands.”

“I’ll check with him. I need a new Journeyman’s seal anyway. Thank you again.”

“May I suggest that you test for Expert? You would need to spend more time refining your potions for sale, of course. However, as an Expert you would earn quite a bit more for yourself, and for the guild.”

“I’ll ask him about it. I’ve been using a mortar and pestle I got off a goblin. I guess I’ve gotten better just by making it work.”

“I expect you have. There is more I would like to discuss with you, Jerric. You seem restless. Would you prefer to meet at another time?”

“I can’t sit still for very long anymore, Carahil. I don’t mean any disrespect. It’s the same when I try to sleep. My head just…”

“I would like to calm your mind for you. Do you trust me?”

Jerric stared at her incredulously. “Who could possibly trust an illusionist?”

“Do you trust that I want to help you? I do not suffer fools in my hall, Jerric. I would not waste my time if I considered you lacking.”

Jerric snorted. “Well I believe that. All right, go ahead and mess with my mind. You might not like what you find in there.”

Carahil stretched her hands over the desk. “Illusion magic does not allow me to see into your mind, only to place suggestions there. Give me your hands.”

“I guess that was supposed to be comforting. Can’t you just toss some confusion at me?”

She gave him a cool smile. “Of course, but this is not an attack. I would rather proceed gently.” She waited.

Jerric put his hands on the desk, and Carahil took them. He looked at her slender fingers and thought that she could be made of gold and he of rough stone. He opened her hand on his and examined her perfect oval nails. They were short as he would expect from someone who worked with alchemy, but they looked as carefully tended as a lady’s. Her right palm was ridged with calluses. Hard, but smooth when he ran his thumb over them. He noticed that her fingers were longer than his, but his hand was almost twice the width of hers. He realized that his mind was empty and he was holding hands with the Anvil chapter head like they were a pair of adolescents. He flushed and let go of her.

Carahil’s smile reached her eyes this time. “There, is that not an improvement?”

“Thank you,” he said, and he meant it. “I didn’t even know you did anything.”

“An important part of mastering illusion magic is concealing its use. Jerric, I would like to offer you counsel.”

“All right.”

“Which would you say is your strongest school of magic?”

“That’s easy, destruction. Wait, maybe alchemy.”

“You are more skilled in destruction spells, that is true. But I believe you have a gift for conjuration.”

“Really. That’s… Carahil, you don’t approve of summoning.”

“I advocate practicing magic that is free from the dark arts. Summoning may put a mage on the path that leads to necromancy. However, in these times we must employ all of the weapons we have at our disposal. In your case, I cannot believe that you would become corrupted by that kind of power.”

“Well, I think you’re right about that. Conjuring a skeleton hasn’t made me want to kill someone to get at their bones.”

“Consider the gladiator games you ran this summer. No, I do not bring it up to chastise you, of course I knew about it. Did you think you could open a Skeleton Arena in my basement without my notice? Some of the wagers Thaurron placed were on my behalf.”

“You’re kidding! That little… please, Carahil, continue.”

“Your ‘Slim’ consistently vanquished opponents summoned by far more advanced conjurers. You were able to direct his attacks, and your observation of his tactics allowed you to form effective strategies for him. Yes, I was there. If you took the time to learn a little mysticism, you would have known.”

“I could use some illusion, too,” he admitted.

“I suggest starting with a simple light spell. He is not a guild trainer, but I believe Darnand has had some success teaching you.” She watched him under a raised brow, and he wondered what she had surmised about the time he had spent with his paid instructor, Abiene. He felt a flush creep up his neck. “There is no need to read your thoughts when they are written on your face,” she observed.

“Do you think anyone else figured it out? She wanted to keep it quiet, you know how mages gossip.”

“If anyone had guessed it would be all over Anvil. I wondered how the most promising restoration trainer I have seen in over a century was unable to help you advance in your studies. I see you did not consider the effect your failure would have on her professional reputation. You have an undisciplined mind. Not all of your power comes from the stars, Jerric. That others underestimate you should not allow you to underestimate yourself.”

“Uh, right.” Jerric appreciated that Carahil did not coddle him, but her direct manner was getting uncomfortable. He decided to change the tone of the conversation. “Learning a new spell from an unsanctioned trainer,” he commented. “Smacks of hedge-wizardry, Carahil.” He watched her response carefully. Teasing one’s chapter head was reckless, even for him.

Carahil smiled in amusement. “You should not get into trouble with a light spell,” she replied evenly. “If I hear he has taught you a new summons, there will be consequences. I will not have rogue daedra rampaging through my hall. You will have to travel to Chorrol for that.”

Jerric grinned back, imagining a clannfear tossing Gulitte over its back. “Thanks, I’ll work on my summoning. It’s funny you should mention it. I’m heading to Chorrol as soon as I have the coin. I guess I’ll take the time to pick up some recommendations, too. Don’t know when I’ll get down to Bravil, but I sure would like to use the university. I have an idea for a spell. A couple of ideas.”

“I believe that the trip would be worth your time. I have another suggestion for you. Felen could mix a potion to help you sleep.”

“I don’t think so. I don’t want to drink yet, either. I guess most drunks don’t start out to be that way.”

“I’ll leave it to you to ask, then. That will be all for today, Jerric. I hope that we will see you here tomorrow.”

“You will. I’ll be in and out every day with my gear here, so I’ll be easy to find if you think of a job for me. And I’ll bring that robe back as soon as it’s cleaned. Whose is it? It’s so fine, I’ve only seen that style in paintings.”

Carahil sat silently for so long he began to wish he hadn’t asked. Finally she spoke. “That robe belonged to a battlemage. I knew him long ago. It was my honor to fight by his side, and my lasting regret that his life ended under my leadership. He was a Nord, and he too was born under the Atronach.” Carahil looked up and met his eyes. He saw a sorrow in her that touched his own. “The lives of men are so fleeting, many of my kind cannot be bothered to know you. However, I find that the briefest fires burn the brightest.”

Jerric didn’t know what to say to that. “You’re a spellsword?” he guessed.

“Yes. Does that surprise you?”

“No, it actually explains a lot. I remember last summer when you spoke to all of us students. How did you put it? ‘Practical application is often the best educator in the many uses of restoration, even in life and death situations.’ In other words, don’t be a baby if you get your head cut off, just think of the great practice you’ll get putting it back on again. It wasn’t hard to see which of us hadn’t healed anything worse than a scraped knee.”

Carahil laughed, and the sound was surprisingly youthful. “I see you divined my intent as well as my meaning. It would please me to learn that I had underestimated you.” Carahil rose and gestured to the door. “Until tomorrow, Jerric.”

“All right, Carahil. See you tomorrow.”

This post has been edited by Grits: Apr 5 2011, 01:58 PM