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

[mALX]

The conversation between Jerric and Felen was wonderful - my fave line in it:

Felen patted him absently on the forearm. “I mean my counterpart in Kvatch no disrespect. Sigrid lacks only a few decades or so of my experience, but she is a fine instructor and alchemist in her own right.”

your ... ‘Tame the Volcano’ potion.

ROFL !!!

He found it around a corner at the back of the basement, next to the rat privy.

ROFL !!! If that is in game, I have missed it !!!


Great rendition of that quest, and as always an Awesome Write !!


*

[haute ecole rider]

I loved your version of Felen, though he is a little more - prissified - than mine. Still, he is a delightful person and brought a smile to my face as he spoke to Jerric and tested his alchemical knowledge.

And the classic 'rats' case! You've captured the old bat wonderfully!

[Cardboard Box]

Funny, it's always 'rats' for the new associates. Is it some initiation test or something?

Well put.

[SubRosa]

Observe, I have closed my book and placed it out of my reach. You have secured my full attention.


We cannot expect our customers to drink from the alchemy apparatus, as your hapless patients undoubtedly have.
I loved the entire exchange between Felen and Jerric. It was as delightful as it was instructive.

And if they give me a disease… well, they won’t be the first.
Doh!

In fact I’ll show them the lion. I bet they’ll wonder how it got inside the city.
This is what never made sense about this quest to me. Are we to believe the lion jumped over the city walls? Or maybe it climbed them with a rope and pitons? Or perhaps it simply walked through the front gate disguised as a Khajiit? As much as I have always liked this quest, and wanted to put it in the TF, I could never come up with a plausible explanation for a mountain lion wandering around inside a major city. However, I just came up with a new idea on this old quest. Scribble, scribble, scribble...

A fun episode as ever. I have always loved the Rat Lady. I can't believe the fuss people make over a few rats...

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Apr 6 2011, 03:14 AM

[Destri Melarg]

I agree with hautee and 'Rosa, the entire exchange between Felen and Jerric was sensational. As was your handling of the first part of this very weird quest.

My favorite part of this chapter, however, is how Jerric so thoroughly and completely describes and encapsulates Pinarus Inventius by mention of his 'jowls.'

@SubRosa - It was always my understanding that the lions burrowed their way under the city wall. I know you never find a hole, but it makes more sense than going over the walls.

[Acadian]

Felen patted him absently on the forearm. “I mean my counterpart in Kvatch no disrespect. Sigrid lacks only a few decades or so of my experience, but she is a fine instructor and alchemist in her own right.”
Whew! I'm glad to see no disrespect toward the lovely and talented Sigrid!

The scene with Felen and Jerric was fabulous. You really brought Felen to life and I simply love what I shall now think of as 'Alchemy - Jerric style'.

He realized that without his Kvatch Wolf to identify him, he was just another Nord in a busy port town. The anonymity gave him some comfort.
I hear ya, Jerric. Fully understood.

Who keeps rats for pets? Is she part goblin?”

Sometimes it is simply wonderful to see a well-known quest completed from the perspective of someone else's character. My goodness, you did beautiful justice to this!

“Please, save my little rats!” Arvena’s anguished cry followed him down the stairs.
Passages like this create a truly immersive feel here. It is a simple sentence but one that pulled me right behind Jerric going down that staircase. Almost a magical creation of the feeling one gets doing this quest in the game.

Rat privy - how clever. Sure enough, if you put four rats in a cage, they will reliably all pee in the same corner.

Well, I don't want to finish off my comments talking about rat pee, so let me simply tell you how much fun this episode was to read!

[Thomas Kaira]

Chapter 9.1:

A very interesting twist on the Anvil Recommendation quest. Those two battlemages are never any help at all! Good that Jerric the Lion was there to save the day!

It is very clear that Jerric is not taking to his responsibilities as a hero very well. He's just running on an adrenaline haze at this point, and it is certain that he is not very sure what he wishes to accomplish. He's just... there, closing gates with not a single though to his own safety. This is quite typical behavior for someone who is unsure of what they are living for, and Jerric certainly qualifies now. He has had his family torn away from him and he cannot see the light at the end of the tunnel Jauffre convinced him to enter. All he has left now is Flash, and I'm not sure he is in any state to lose him, as well. That might just be the final straw for his sanity, which is currently on the fringe of earning him an invite to Dementia. Hopefully, he'll bounce back, but that is a long, hard road to walk, as I feel he is not going to be very willing to accept the fact that his family is now dead.

[Grits]

mALX: The rat privy is a Grits embellishment. I figured they have to go somewhere, and that led to how the hole in the wall got there in the first place. Anvil has some quests that really need more explaining!!

The line you picked out from Felen really captures my vision of him, thank you! I love the excellent names for things that other people come up with in their stories, so Fire Shield had to have a new one. Thank you, mALX!!

haute ecole rider: Oh, Felen! I mean, that outfit! Those shoes! He’s definitely a peacock in my version. But he rolled up his velvet sleeves and led the Kvatch relief effort from the Anvil MG, no doubt keeping his hair pouf upright throughout. I’m glad Jerric’s affection for him (and mine) came through. Arvena is a character that I wanted to present unchanged from the game, she is a riot!

Cardboard Box: I wish I could take credit for that line! Pinarus said it when he was stepping out of his house in the game. In full daedric armor, no less. I guess Jerric was standing close enough to him to trigger a rumor. I couldn’t believe it!

SubRosa: When I pictured Jerric and Felen in Felen’s little alchemy nook, the whole scene jumped to life on its own. I’m glad it worked! Now I can say without spoiling anything that Jerric is not a natural alchemist.

A new idea, yay!! I love to hear scribble, scribble scribble… You would think that urban lions would have caused more fuss than a few sweet little pets. What’s next, slaughterfish in the mermaid pool?

Destri Melarg: Felen and Jerric clicked in a way I would not have predicted, I suppose they share the capacity to enjoy people. I love that you picked out Jerric’s jowls observation, because I learned that at the school of Destri’s Interregnum! The guard with the bad teeth? Inspirational! I’m glad you liked the first part of the quest, the next part gets even weirder.

Acadian: I’m glad you enjoyed Jerric and Felen. I expect a Dunmer of Felen’s age has seen it all, but he’s still not tired of it. 'Alchemy - Jerric style,' I am delighted!!

I’m glad you’re enjoying Jerric’s charging in to save the rats mission so far, this quest is right in his wheelhouse. He’s certainly not one to over-think a situation. I don’t think you’ll be surprised at how this one ends up, either.

Thomas Kaira: You’re right, Jerric had not been sticking with the plan, nor did he resist the temptation to lose himself in those Gates. He saved Darnand from a terminal case of freezer burn, but who knows if he would have stayed on the road all the way to Anvil if Darnand had not been there to walk with him. I’m glad you’re still reading.

What just happened: Jerric has been busy helping Arvena with her Rat Problem. We left him on the doorstep of Pinarus Inventius, about to set forth on a lion hunt.



Chapter 10: Septims, Part 3

Jerric sat at the dining table in the Fighters Guild hall, working his way through a stack of ham sandwiches. Most of the Anvil chapter had gathered to share a few pitchers of beer and exchange tales of the day. Sten the Ugly refilled Jerric’s mug and slid it back to him. “So, did you find the mountain lions?” Sten asked him.

Jerric took a deep pull from the mug. He closed his eyes as the cold brew washed down his throat. It’s been too long, he thought. Vigdis kicked him under the table, bringing his attention back to the room. “We found them,” Jerric answered. “A family group, like Pinarus thought. The big female was injured, looked like the younger ones were hunting for her. Maybe daedra drove them down toward town. The marks on her looked like scamp claws, and she was burned. Anyway, we found a bunch of chewed up bodies. The Guard is working with the Legion to find out who they are.”

“Folk have gone missing along the road to Brina’s Crossing,” mused Azzan. “We’ve blamed it on the daedra. I suppose some of them could have been lion kills.”

“I suppose,” Jerric replied. “They were in bad shape. The lions were. Hungry. Don’t know how they got over the city wall, but that’s not my problem.” He took another long drink. “Still, it wouldn’t hurt to run around the outside of the city and take a look. Could be a tree down against the wall or something. Yeah, tomorrow I’ll go check.” The others were giving him a variety of looks. “What?”

Azzan snorted. “Well, was she happy when you told her you killed the lions?”

Jerric shook his head. “You would think.” He continued to tell them the story.


Arvena yanked open the front door at Jerric’s knock. “You’ve got to take care of those mountain lions!”she shrieked into his face.

“We did! We—”

“You think you’ve gotten rid of them all?” she cried. “You do? Well, you haven’t! There’s one in my basement right now! Go get it!”

Before he had time to think, he found himself pelting down the basement stairs again.


Jerric had plenty of time to tackle another sandwich while his guild mates howled in delight. Even Rhano finally cracked a smile. “So you killed that one, too,” Rhano guessed. “And hauled it over to Pinarus I bet, like a good little helper. That doesn’t explain how you missed lunch and dinner.”

Jerric gave him a level look. “Well, there’s more.”


Arvena met him at the top of the basement stairs. Her narrow hands fluttered over her hair and gown, smoothing away her agitation. “Thank the gods you killed that thing,” she gasped. “This is ridiculous! Someone’s out to get me, to get my poor babies! I’ll bet it’s that Quill-Weave next door.”

“What..?” Jerric started to ask, then he mentally kicked himself.

Arvena’s brilliant eyes narrowed, and her voice cracked with anger. “She’s the one. She’s never liked me or my sweet little pets. I know it’s her, I’ve even seen her sneaking around in back of my house at night. She thinks she’s so smart. She and all the other women. I’ll show her! I want you to keep an eye on her. Find out what she’s up to.”


Jerric nodded his head as he swallowed his last bite of ham. He chased it with beer. “Of course I did what she asked,” he continued. “Go ahead and laugh. I stayed behind her house for five hours, hiding in a bush. Yeah, hiding. I guess it started working when it got dark, because sure enough Quill-Weave sneaked around back and left a piece of meat on the ground. Lucky for me I had to take a piss. I saw her when I stood up. Otherwise I’d still be under that bush, probably asleep by now. Anyway, it was her.”


Jerric stepped over in front of the Argonian, blocking her passage. “Yes?” she asked nervously, taking a step back. “What can I do for you?”

“I know what you’re doing, Quill-Weave. It has to stop.”

“You know what?” she demanded, glancing rapidly to her left and right. “Well, I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about. I would never go skulking about…” She began to flick her fingers as if they were wet. “Fine. You’ve got me. I figured if I left some rotten meat outside, the nasty little things would come out, and the guards would take care of them.”

“Mountain lions followed the scent. They broke into her basement. She could have been killed.”

“Mountain lions! In her basement? I just wanted to lure her vermin outside! I didn’t mean to hurt anyone, except the rats. Please, don’t tell her! And, if you can keep this our little secret, I can make it worth your while. There’s a bit about acrobatics I can teach you. Give it some thought.”


“You could use some help with your footwork,” Rhano told Jerric.

“Yeah. I sure hope I can find someone else to train me.”


This time when Arvena answered his knock she stepped back, allowing Jerric to walk into her sitting room. He looked toward the cellar door, almost expecting another crisis.

Arvena’s demeanor remained calm, at least for her first question. “So, did you follow her? She’s behind it, isn’t she? Tell me what you found out!”

“Quill-Weave was behind it.”

“I knew it. That s’wit! Oh, I’ll get her. You just wait! Must have taken some fast talking to get her to confess.”

“Not really. I’m not so good at that. I guess the part where I stood there in the dark being a Nord was enough to get her talking.”

“Maybe I can teach you a little bit more about how to talk to people. You could present yourself in a more professional manner. And, of course, I need to give you your payment.”


Sten thumped his fist on the table, sending Jerric’s plate briefly into the air. “Dammit, Vigdis! All the gold I’ve given you to train me, and I just needed to stand in the dark being a Nord!”

Vigdis reached over and slapped Jerric’s arm. “Now you’ve cost me. No Nord will ever want to improve their skills if they need only wait until nightfall!”

Huurwen wiped the tears from her eyes. “Take comfort, friends,” she laughed. “A new career in nocturnal diplomacy awaits each of you.”

Azzan shook his head, directing his comments at Jerric. “Well, I don’t know if you’re dumb or honest. Or maybe she’s just nuts. I have your payment from the guild. Thelas already settled up with me. Sounds like the coin she gave you is her special thanks, or maybe you did something else for her. Ha!”

“I did haul two dead lions away,” Jerric admitted. “And I gave her a hand in her bedchamber. By the time she finished with me, I’d sweated off the blood and started to beg for mercy.”

“Is that what happened to your shirt?” asked Llensi. The Dunmer raised a mug gracefully to her lips.

Jerric looked down at his bare chest. “Skitt! I left it at Arvena’s. Well I’m sure not going back for it. She’ll talk me into putting a new roof on her house or something.”

“It is Evening Star,” Llensi remarked.

“So I’m told.”

“Fear not,” Huurwen told him. “You are not the only Nord at this table who cannot keep track of their clothing.”

“Yeah,” said Sten. “You’d think we wouldn’t mind, but Vigdis has more hair on her chest than you do.”

Huurwen spoke over the laughter. “I believe you were telling us how your client exhausted you in her bedchamber.”

“A lady like that has better taste,” Rhano pointed out. “What with rats for pets, and all.”

Jerric grinned ruefully. “She had me shift two big wardrobes in there. Looking for a lost rat toy. Then I couldn’t get them back just right. Turned out the fetching thing was under a chair the whole time, so in the end I left her happy. I’m sure this isn’t the last I’ll hear of it, though. That Quill-Weave is a writer, she’ll likely put a rat-humping Nord in her next book. You can say you knew me when.”

Azzan spoke. “We knew you when you were an Associate. I’m promoting you. Congratulations, Apprentice.”

Jerric raised his eyebrows. “That was fast.”

“Worried? I guess closing Oblivion Gates isn’t as hard as it sounds. If you don’t think you can handle it, I can send you tagging along with Pinarus again.”

“No, thank you,” Jerric replied fervently. “I need another contract. Do you have any pet mudcrabs that need looking after?”

“I’ve got something. You’ll want your gear back from Morvayn first. Talk to me when you get it.”

Sten drained his beer mug and stood, sliding the clay pitcher toward Jerric. “I’m turning in. You staying tonight, Jerric?”

“No, I guess I’ll head home in a bit.” He glanced over at Rhano. The Redguard gave him a small nod, but didn’t speak. “Better finish off this beer first.”

Vigdis shoved her chair back. “Who has the swamp tonight?”

“Rufrius,” said Llensi. “He is still out on his date.” Jerric gave her a quizzical look. “The bedchamber adjacent to the barracks, we call it the swamp. It has a door, so you can imagine it is much in demand. When no one of rank is passing through, of course.”

“You share that room for..?”

Rhano snorted. “We take turns using it, for privacy. Fullo makes sure the sheets are changed every week, right Fullo?”

“Whether they need it or not,” confirmed Fullo.

Azzan stood and headed for the stairs. “I’ll go get your gold, Jerric.” The dining room emptied until only Rhano and Jerric remained at the table. Jerric poured the rest of the beer into their mugs. He sat back and waited.

Rhano was the first to speak. “You been over to see Mother and Fa?”

“Not yet. Tomorrow, I think.”

Rhano nodded. “Mother asked me to invite you for Saturalia. She wants you to spend the night, like we’re still kids or something.”

Jerric looked across at Rhano for a long moment. “So, are you going to get over it and train me? I need your help, Rhano.”

“You have the coin?”

“Not yet. I’m working on it.” Jerric couldn’t read Rhano’s expression.

“I know some people who have work,” Rhano finally told him. “Maelona, she’s a Redguard. Short hair, real pretty. Sits under that tree in Westgate all the time. Maeva up in Whitmond. Her no-good husband ran off on her.”

“I know Maeva,” Jerric said. He made a gesture in front of his chest. “The Buxom.”

“Yeah, well they’re down here now. The years have not been kind.”

“Thanks, Rhano.”

“You know my Fa will hire you.”

“I know, and I’m grateful. It’s just that I’m not going to be here long.” He could tell Rhano knew what he meant.

“They want to see you, Jerric.”

“I’ll go. I should have gone already. It’s hard, Rhano.”

Azzan came down the stairs and dropped a small leather bag on the table next to Jerric. “Here you go. I guess you’re not ready for credit.”

“Not until I get my gear back, then I’ll want some training. I need to talk to you about that, Azzan. Have you thought about what I said?”

“I’m not ready to make that decision. Think about your terms, maybe we’ll talk tomorrow.”

Jerric drank the rest of his beer. “I’m headed home,” he said.

He’d had enough drink to loosen his mind, but not enough to numb it. Black thoughts began to rise up as he made his way along the empty beach. He could feel the abyss inside him, now that he had left the busyness and chatter of other folk. He knew how easy it would be to look into it and lose himself in darkness. A cold sea breeze cut through his thoughts, and he clung to it.

It really is Evening Star, he thought. He gave himself a sniff and winced. I’m already cold, might as well get clean. He stripped down and dove into the sea, scrubbing the rest of the dried blood away with sand. One of his rings kept him from drowning, and the other assured him that there were no threats approaching. He swam until he thought he might be able to sleep.

As he headed up the beach with his trousers in one hand and his boots in the other, he noticed light in the windows of his hut. By the time he reached his front porch he knew that someone within had built a fire. The someone’s pinkish glow appeared to be sitting in his chair with their feet tucked under them. Jerric pushed the door open and stood there on the threshold, dripping. She sat with one of his books in her lap and a clay cup at her elbow. Her smile started to warm him from the inside out.

He dropped his boots by the door and grinned back at her. “Abiene,” he said.




(Edited to add clarifying statement.)

This post has been edited by Grits: Apr 21 2011, 11:55 AM

[mALX]

Jerric has been to the Clarence Thomas school on how to pick up women the easy way ... just expose the goods and good things will happen ... er ... develop ... er ... something like that.

I loved the comaraderie in the dining hall of the Fighters Guild - you have a huge talent for creating natural dialogue that is so believable one can visualize the scene as if watching it in a film !! Awesome Write !!!

This post has been edited by mALX: Apr 11 2011, 08:04 PM

[haute ecole rider]

I stood there in the dark being a Nord was enough to get her talking.”

That, and the responses around the table to that line was enough to get me chuckling.

That Quill-Weave is a writer, she’ll likely put a rat-humping Nord in her next book.

Then this had me laughing!

“I know Maeva,” Jerric said. He made a gesture in front of his chest. “The Buxom.”

“Yeah, well they’re down here now. The years have not been kind.”

But this had me rolling!

And:

Her smile started to warm him from the inside out.

Isn't that sweet!

[SubRosa]

Is it just me, or do ypu also think that Pinarus Inventius should be some kind of inventor?

I see you have been taking inspiration from haute on telling a story in flashbacks! Good idea. It really works here, not only showing us what happened, but also how Jerric is getting along with his new FG pals at the same time. Sort of a two for one deal.

Jerric reminds me of a St. Bernard me family had when I was little. He would get 4 sandwiches for dinner every night. He would wolf them down too. Two bites, and a sandwich was gone. You had to watch your fingers if you fed him, to make sure you still had them afterward!

Lucky for me I had to take a piss. I saw her when I stood up.
That is our Jerric!

the part where I stood there in the dark being a Nord was enough to get her talking


Speaking of how Jerric is getting along with his new FG pals, I see he is settling in nicely! I loved the conversation at the table between all the guild members. And some mystery with Rhino Rhano. The way he talks about Fa makes him sound like a Nord. Not to mention how he said "mother", rather than "my mother", makes me wonder if they are related...

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Apr 13 2011, 11:36 PM

[Acadian]

The scene inside the FG was very active. Lots of new FG members introduced here and multiple brief flashbacks. Initially, I assumed that the italicized flashbacks were Jerric's internal thoughts. Then I began to realize that it seemed your intent was that he was verbally relaying this information to the FG members - I think. Forgive me if I misunderstood.

Once outside the FG, you really opened up a bag of magic goodness! Jerric's thoughts walking home, and discovering a guest at his hearth was magnificent! Your description of Jerric using his rings was brilliant.

[Destri Melarg]

Using the flashbacks to tell this chapter was inspired. The banter between the Fighters Guild members really brings the Anvil Chapter to life.

“Yeah,” said Sten. “You’d think we wouldn’t mind, but Vigdis has more hair on her chest than you do.”

My favorite quote of the day!!

I wasn't sure of it at first, but I thought I sensed a history between Jerric and Rhano that went beyond the surface hostility. That was confirmed in this chapter. Rhano acts very much like a foster brother toward Jerric, I wonder what caused the tension between the two?

[Grits]

mALX: Most people might have put their pants on before opening the door, but Jerric is an optimist!

There was a lot going on around that table, I’m glad the dialog worked for you. It’s hard for me to tell when I have people joking around if they actually sound like they’re joking or not. Thank you, mALX!

haute ecole rider: I’m really enjoying these sections where instant death is not looming around every corner. I’m glad the FG folks provided some laughs! Your recap of the read had me rolling!

SubRosa: The flashbacks were very much inspired by haute! I have been holding out for a segment where I thought it would fit well, I’m glad it worked. I love the comparison to your St. Bernard. Our Nord is also perhaps slightly larger and hairier than is absolutely necessary.

Every sentence I have written about Rhano’s history has triggered the info-dump alarm and then been unceremoniously deleted, so the rest will come in hopefully a natural way. Your insight is as usual right on the mark.

Acadian: You’re right, he was telling the story to his new guild mates, frequently interrupted by them. And at the beginning of the segment, he was already in the middle of the story – where we left off from the previous segment. I added the sentence ‘He continued to tell them the story.’ before the first flashback to hopefully smooth the transitions. I’m sorry about that, those what-the-heck moments really interrupt the flow for a reader. Thank you for pointing that out to me!

Thank you for your kind words about the rest of Jerric’s evening. That was my favorite part.

Destri Melarg: Your use of flashbacks in Interregnum made me think, I want to learn how to do that. Baby steps first! I’m glad you liked Sten’s demonstration of gender equality, FG style!

You have sensed the Jerric and Rhano relationship perfectly. Pretty soon I’ll manage to get the two of them in a room with someone who doesn’t already know, and there will be some explaining.

Where we are: Jerric helped Arvena with her rats and received an unexpected promotion. After he helped lower the level in the FG’s beer barrel, he returned home to find Abiene waiting for him.

Also, I made an oops in the last chapter. Llensi meant to tell Jerric that it’s Evening Star, not Frost Fall.




Chapter 10: Septims, Part 4

Abiene woke with the cold sun streaming through her windows. She had the habit of leaving her curtains open to invite the dawn inside, so that she might start each day with a few moments to herself. Last night she had stayed late at Jerric’s hut on the beach. This morning’s pale early light had failed to wake her. She slipped her arms into the ready dressing gown, then padded silently down the hall to the necessary. Folk were beginning to stir behind their closed doors as she made her way back to her chamber.

Abiene pulled her nightdress over her head and spread her exercise mat on the floor. She began to work her way through the stretches that warmed her muscles and loosened her joints before her morning meditation. She was surprised at the number of marks Jerric had left on her. He had warned her that he had been drinking, and now she understood his meaning. She had no idea how careful he was with her until he wasn’t.

As she began her more strenuous poses, a sheen of sweat broke out over her skin. She felt the familiar satisfaction as her body moved through the prescribed postures. Dibella had declined to make her voluptuous, so Abiene had made herself supple and strong. She allowed her pride to fill her thoughts, then she let it go. Instead of the emptiness she was seeking, she found her mind filled with images from the night before. Her sweat reminded her of the slick seawater on Jerric’s skin. The twinge in her knee made her wonder how she strained it, and then flush when she remembered.

This is ridiculous, she told herself. She stopped her routine and stood flat on both of her feet. When her eyes closed, she let the memory of every touch, taste, and gasping breath pass through her. She finished with the image that had warmed her heart as she slipped out the door. Jerric sprawled over the bed with his head against the wall and one foot on the floor, snoring. The cold night had washed over her as she walked back along the beach, this time alone. She chased the memory with her healing light, sweeping away her physical distractions. When she opened her eyes, she caught her own gaze in the dressing table mirror. Maybe I can find some time for a proper soak after dinner, she thought. I’d like to see him again tonight. Anticipation made her smile.

Her exercise invigorated her, and the meditation readied her mind for the day. She stood on her bathing mat for a cold sponge bath at her wash basin. When quick and clean were the goals, she felt no need to linger. Soon she was seated at her dressing table in a cotton shift, taming her curls with a pick and a wide-toothed comb. Ilonea still kept her supplied with smoothing cream for her hair, made by Ilonea’s own loving hands. Every morning Abiene thought of her fondly. Now the light scent brought only pleasant memories.

No jewelry today, she would spend most of it in the healing hall. She gathered her curls in a loose knot at the back of her head. Her white head wrap and robe would wait until after breakfast. She wore her healer’s garb like armor, for she needed as many boundaries as she could build between herself and her patients.

When she heard doors closing in the hall, she knew she ought to hurry. A simple linen dress in her favorite shade of medium brown slipped over her head and buttoned up the side. The high neckline showed off her collarbones, and nothing more. Well-worn flat shoes waited by the door. The draft in the hall reminded her that she had forgotten stockings.

“Good morning, Abiene.” Darnand’s voice broke into her thoughts and scattered them. He stood outside his door, almost smiling at her. She couldn’t see it in the dim hallway, but she knew his dark green mage’s robe would bring out the color of his eyes.

She took a few steps toward him until she could catch the scent of his soap. “Good morning,” she replied with a smile. She took his arm when he politely offered it, even though she doubted she would need support on the stairs. “Do you have a little time this morning? I would like to consult with you on one of my patients.”

They reached the foot of the stairs, and he gestured for her to precede him into the dining room. “Certainly. In what way do you believe I might render assistance?”

Abiene walked to where breakfast was laid out on the sideboard, smiling her greetings to her fellow mages. She handed Darnand a plate, then got one for herself. “Not with the healing, of course. It’s an Argonian child, I’m afraid I haven’t diagnosed her correctly. It appears to be a wasting illness, but she has not responded to my treatment as well as I would expect. I hope your research might provide some insight.” She placed an apple pastry on her plate, then filled a bowl with hot porridge. She sprinkled raisins and dried berries over the steaming oats.

Darnand followed her along the sideboard, filling his plate. “I suppose you have ruled out poison. An ill Argonian is unusual. Of course, I am pleased to do what I can for you. It might surprise you, but I suspect that for a difficult diagnosis we might turn to Jerric.”

Abiene stared at him, kahve pot forgotten in her hand. “You’re right, I am surprised. You’ve worked with him, his healing feels like…”

“An assault, I agree.” Darnand scooped eggs onto his plate next to the pile of fried potatoes. “And he sends his magicka through a person with the force of a hurricane. I do not suggest him for his delicate touch.” Darnand held out an empty mug. “I have a theory about him. If I am correct, he should be able to easily diagnose those maladies that are magical in nature. Of course I will attempt first, I hesitate to subject a sickly child to what might be a troubling experience. It is just another approach we might try if my research fails me.” He glanced at the pot in Abiene’s hand and raised an eyebrow.

Abiene mentally shook herself and filled their mugs with the steaming brew. “Do you suspect some kind of curse? How can you know without examining the patient?” They walked to the table, and Darnand held her hand as she stepped over the bench.

“I cannot, of course. However, given that the patient is Argonian, a magical attack would be the simplest answer. What did you think when you first examined her?”

“I thought she had been cursed by a ghost,” Abiene admitted. “But she said she hadn’t, and she would have known.” Darnand sat watching her with his kahve mug in his hand. “Although… I’ll talk to her about it again. If she’s been sneaking into the chapel through the undercroft, she might be more afraid of punishment than of her illness. Her parents do not follow the Nine. Thank you, Darnand. I’ll treat her with…” Abiene stood, her mind running over her options.

Darnand’s hand on her arm stopped her. “Eat your breakfast, Abiene. She is not going to waste away in the next few moments, and you will need your strength.” His eyes were warm on hers for another instant before he turned his attention to his plate. “Would you still like me to accompany you to the healing hall?”

“You are always welcome there, but I don’t want to take up any more of your time.” Actually, I do, Abiene thought. “Do you want me to tell you how it goes?”

“Yes, I am interested. I am pleased to offer any assistance that you might require, although I must admit that I am not particularly skilled in winning the trust of the young.”

“I’m sure she’ll tell me, I know just what to say. Away from her parents, of course. I’m afraid I wasn’t always truthful to my own mother.”

Darnand’s eyes smiled at her. “Who could truthfully say that they were.” He looked at her while he seemed to come to a decision. “I am sure that you would arrive at this solution on your own,” he continued quietly, “But if she has been cursed by a ghost, I might suggest ectoplasm blended with the oil from bergamot seeds.”

He knows I’m not skilled in mysticism, she thought. And he doesn’t want to embarrass me. “Thank you, Darnand. I was going to have to look that up.” I’ll trust him, she decided. “I would like you to come to the healing hall later. I am going to perform a small surgical procedure on Jerric, and Carahil will observe. I need her recommendation for the position in Chorrol. I would also like your opinion, privately.” She watched his reaction carefully. I’m like a child, hoping for approval from Papa, she realized.

“I am intrigued. I shall work at Felen’s counter this morning, so that I do not miss the opportunity.” He turned his attention back to his plate. “What position in Chorrol?” he asked in a casual tone.

“With Gureryne Selvilo at the Chapel of Stendarr. He combines surgery with restoration magic. He has one position for a student, but it’s already filled. I’ve been waiting for over a year for Carahil to send him a letter recommending me next. She… has some reservations about it.”

“Surely not with your healing?” Darnand glanced up to the end of the table where Carahil sat chatting with Gulitte.

“No. Well, with my ability to keep a distance from my patients, not to become too involved. You know it’s different with me. Easier to get inside another person, but much harder to control.”

“I recall from our lessons together, but I confess I did not fully grasp your meaning.”

Abiene put down her spoon and gave Darnand her full attention. It was important for him to understand before she took the next step. “You know how the mind, body, energy, and spirit are all connected.”

Darnand turned to her, serious. “You told me, but I cannot say that I truly know.”

“It is enough that you believe it. When most folk send their magicka into another person, they can find the physical hurts and diseases. With further study they might also learn to diagnose damage to a person’s magicka or life energy, as you have. For some, all of these things appear woven together, along with any sickness of the mind or spirit. You can imagine how overwhelming that can be, and how deeply personal. At the worst it is a violation of both patient and healer.” Abiene waited, worried that he would look at her as if she was somehow abnormal.

Darnand glanced around the table, then met her eyes again. “Abiene, I am honored that you have shared this with me. Now I begin to understand. I can see that the temptation to overstep must present itself continually. Healing must be a great drain on you. It is hard for me to see why you have pursued it.”

Relief flooded through her. “Because at its best it can free folk of their afflictions, give them their lives back. I have learned how to control it, to avoid offending a patient’s privacy. And to preserve my own. This is what has kept Carahil from recommending me. She doesn’t believe I’m ready. In surgery I will use my magicka to help me guide the knife. The contact with the patient will be intense. She knows I care for Jerric, we all do. If I can perform a small surgery on him without trouble, she will be convinced.” Abiene placed her hand on his arm to make sure he was really paying attention. “And there is something more I should like to try. I will not announce when I do it, but I want you to watch for it. There is no one else I trust with this, Darnand. I value your opinion.”

He bent his head toward her to speak, then looked up and beyond her. “Good morning, Thaurron.”

The Bosmer set his plate next to Abiene and sat down, swinging his legs up and over the bench. “Good morning, good morning! How does the day greet you, my friends?” he bubbled.

This post has been edited by Grits: Apr 15 2011, 12:51 AM

[SubRosa]

What a wonderful little look into Abiene's life. I loved seeing her go through her daily morning yoga routine, and especially her thoughts on overcoming Dibella's lack of gifts. I am glad to see she is still working toward that position in Chorrol as well. It looks like she is almost there now.

Your description of holistic healing was wonderful as well. So too was the description of Jerric's rough and tumble method of using magic and how it effects other people.

I am going to perform a small surgical procedure on Jerric
I think I have the x-ray from that...

[haute ecole rider]

Yes, your holistic view of healing is pretty much spot on. You don't have to be the world's best doctor or veterinarian to know that the mind and spirit are entwined with the body and that full recovery is possible only when all are in balance with each other.

And you left us with a small cliffie! What exactly is it Abiene wants to do with Jerric? Other than the obvious, that is!

I will be watching for the next installment!

[mALX]

I am going to perform a small surgical procedure on Jerric
I think I have the x-ray from that...

I recognized the shape of the head right away, Homer Simpson !!!! ROFL !!!!!


*


@ Grits - The entire beginning scene with Abiene needs to be quoted for its excellence in million diverse ways and reasons.

Abiene is not fighting her feelings or holding back in any way, which may not end well for her. I don't see Jerric settling down in one place, specifically not Anvil. I see pain in her future when he leaves, unless like Parwen she is just "riding the wild stallion" while she has access to it in her pasture.

“You’ve worked with him, his healing feels like…”

“An assault, I agree.” Darnand scooped eggs onto his plate next to the pile of fried potatoes. “And he sends his magicka through a person with the force of a hurricane. I do not suggest him for his delicate touch.”

I was knocked out of my chair by this exchange !!! This is as brilliant as it gets!!!!

Either Arnaund/Darnaund is very good at burying his emotions or he is blind, and I doubt he is that wrapped in his studies to miss all the evidence under his nose (especially since she came back so late and her room is situated close enough that he could hear her footsteps - and most likely hear her humming).

I doubt he'll hold it against Abiene, but there may be some tenseness ahead between himself and Jerric. I'd hate/love to be a fly on the wall the day he walks in on them accidentally.


*

[Acadian]

What a delightful episode! I loved your gentle touch as Abiene let us know what happened the night prior while going about her morning routine in private. You made what I consider to be a series of perfect choices in crafting this scene.

Thank you for the yummy breakfast interlaced with such interesting conversation. I envy your effective and seamless weaving of background actions with dialogue here. Another healer who does and feels more than simply casting a spell! Wonderful!

Nit: “Certainly. In what way to you believe I might render assistance?”
I'm sure you wanted 'do' instead of 'to' here.

[Grits]

SubRosa:

I think I have the x-ray from that...

D’oh!! She’d really have to search to find that organ.

I’m glad you enjoyed the time with Abiene. When Jerric looks at her, he sees the most perfect woman in the world. But I thought that those of us who are not sleeping with her might like a more realistic view. We’ll get a little more insight into her character in the next two sections.

It has been interesting to think about spell casting as more than saying the magic word. I’m taking ‘learning a spell’ to mean someone coaching the student until they find their own way of doing it, which would mean big differences between people. I’m so glad that seems to be working!


haute ecole rider: It was fun to work magicka, skills, attributes, and ‘fatigue’ into Tamriel-style healing. I’ve taken ‘health’ to generally mean injuries, which is where most healing comes in. With Jerric’s Atronach sign, he can’t just go get everything fixed with a blessing at the temple. It’s made me think more about the different options people have when something other than ‘health’ is awry.

It will take the next two installments for Abiene’s intensions to fully come to light, stay tuned!


mALX: You’re absolutely right, Abiene has given up trying to diminish the Jerric Effect. She knows he’s leaving at some point, and she knows she’s going to Chorrol for awhile. Seeing that there’s heartache ahead hasn’t stopped her from walking down that beach every night. Of course, at this point he’s only been back three days.

You bring up an excellent point, how far up his own rear must Darnand’s head be? There’s more shortly about what’s on his mind, why he’s been so busy, and why no one thinks Abiene’s hours are odd. I had to smile at the image of her skipping up the stairs at 2 in the morning, humming! At this point if Darnand decided to pay a late evening visit to the beach hut, there might indeed be an abrupt exchange of fire and frost. Flies on the wall, beware!

I’m so glad you shared your thoughts about A,D, and J, it really helps to see if I’m getting things across. You are the architect of so many complex relationships in your story, and my head is swimming with just these three!! Thank you so much for your kind words, mALX! Your encouragement means a lot!!


Acadian: Thank you for spotting that nit for me, it’s fixed. I’m so pleased that you approve of Abiene’s style of healing. Buffy’s empathic healing first made me realize how completely different Jerric is from Buffy in that way, then led me to think more about the whole subject. We’ll see a little more about Abiene in the next two sections.

Your praise made me smile and blush, then grin! Abiene constantly threatens to change the name to “Abiene’s Story,” so I have to keep her distracted. I’m so glad you enjoyed the time we spent with her.


Where we are: Jerric is working through his ‘to do’ list with the goal of earning some money. Abiene has plans for him when he next passes through the mages guild hall. And she wants Darnand to watch.



Chapter 10: Septims, Part 5

Jerric stepped into Morvayn’s Peacemakers, braced for the noise and hot smell. He found Varel Morvayn behind his counter and Enilroth working at the forge. Varel waved him over. “Enilroth has most of your equipment. We’ll settle up while he’s finishing.”

Jerric raised his voice to be heard over Enilroth’s noise. “All right. What do I owe you? I might not have the coin to pick up all of my gear yet.”

“I did not repair your cuirass, Jerric. The enchantment is broken. I could still repair it for you, if you wish, but it will be expensive.”

“I was afraid of that, Varel.” He felt sick over the loss.

“What do you know of mender’s magic? It looked as if you had used repair hammers on your shield and some of your blades.”

“I did, when I could find them. I’m no mender, but I can use their enchanted hammers on mundane things.”

“A mender could do a better job repairing your surcoat than I would, and I know you’ll want to keep it. I suggest you find one and get some training. There’s no one in Anvil who can do it, but I know that Rohssan in the Imperial City is a mender. Her shop is called A Fighting Chance. She could train you to use the hammers on your enchanted gear. It’s a shame to see such things ruined.”

“That mail is Batul gra-Sharob’s work, I’m just sick about breaking the charms laid on it. I was away too long, you saw how I had it held together. I used up one of those hammers just on the surcoat. I couldn’t let it fall apart. Sentimental, I know, but it wasn’t a time of clear thinking.”

“You could use them to mend your socks as long as they weren’t worn away, but it would cost you. I have a supply for sale, of course. You should buy as many as you can afford and use them. I hate to lose the repair business, but you need to be able to work on your own gear, from what I’ve heard about you.”

“What have you heard?”

Varel gave him an assessing look. “That you’re going back into Oblivion, as soon as you find a Gate. That you’re chasing daedra so you can eat their hearts, gain their power. I won’t repeat the less flattering rumors.”

“I guess folk think I’ve lost my mind.”

“Most are glad you’re doing it. Those that know you, understand.”

“Well, I’ll need a new cuirass too, I guess. At least before I go back on the road. I want to enchant some of my gear, but I didn’t think about how I would maintain it.”

“Better keep that katana aside until you see Rohssan, unless you’re sure you can make it back to a town where someone can repair it for you. Your Wolf shield as well. Enilroth brought it back to new condition.”

“Better than new!” Enilroth called out. Jerric wondered how he could hear them over his ringing hammer. Maybe Bosmer ears were big for a reason, he thought.

Varel smiled indulgently. “I’ll let him go over the details with you. He’ll want to show you what he did with your new dagger, too. Where did you get that katana? I’ve seen the type before, but they’re rare.”

“Up north.” Jerric stood looking at his boots. “Varel, I want you to repair the mail anyway. I can’t give it up. It might be a week before I have the coin to come back and get it.”

“I’ll do it. Don’t go back into a Gate without it, Jerric. I want you to live long enough to pay me.” Jerric stared at Varel, disbelieving. “Yes, you can take it as soon as I’ve finished.” He held up his hands, palms out. “Do not spread it around. And don’t come back for a few days, it will take some time.” Varel’s face creased into smiling lines. “Don’t forget, you’ll need a new doublet as well. All that was left of your old one was ash held together by blood. I still have it, if you want it back.”

“No, it just needs a decent burial. Thanks, Varel.”

“Don’t mention it. I mean that. Even to Enilroth, let him think you’ve paid me.” They both glanced over at Enilroth. The young Bosmer rolled his eyes without breaking the rhythm of his tapping. “How does he do that?” Varel demanded, exasperated. “I would swear the lad can read minds.”

“So I can take my greaves, gauntlets, helm, both swords, shield, old dagger and new… I’ll want a hand axe to get at those daedra hearts I’m supposed to be eating… How much is that?”

The Dunmer’s face took on its usual shrewd expression. “Let me start with a question. How much do you have?”

Jerric concluded his transaction with the two mer and headed over to the Mages Guild hall. Darnand greeted him from Felen’s counter. “Jerric,” he called, wiping his hands on a cloth. “Set aside your burdens, we have business at the healing hall.”

“Good day to you, too,” Jerric replied. “How about some lunch first?”

Darnand stared at him. “Lunch? It is just past ten bells.”

“Breakfast then.”

“Stow your gear, Jerric. Let us go. Abiene stayed late at the healing hall last night, I do not wish to keep her waiting this morning.”

So that’s what she’s told them, Jerric thought. He passed through the guild hall to his cupboard in the basement with exaggerated care. His own width presented enough of a hazard to his fellow mages, even without the weapons he carried.

On his way back to Darnand, he scooped up a snack from the dining hall. Gulitte and Darnand appeared to be in some kind of standoff in the front hall. Jerric chuckled to himself as he shouldered his way between them. “Let’s go, Darnand,” he chided, holding the door open. “It’s rude to keep your healer waiting.”

Jerric followed Darnand out the front door and around the building to the healing hall. He carried a red apple in one hand and a green apple in the other. He alternated taking bites from each, enjoying the contrast between tart and sweet. Darnand held the door while Jerric stepped into the healing hall’s vestibule.

Wide double doors in front of them stood open to the healing hall’s large main room. Light streamed through the high windows that ran down both sides of the room. Jerric could see the rows of patient beds with their accompanying chairs and small tables. Some were shielded from his view by canvas screens. He knew that figures in various states of distress and recovery must be reclining there, some attended by worried relatives. The scent of pine oil gently touched his nose.

It wasn’t until he was standing in the healing hall that he realized Carahil had followed them. He smiled at her sheepishly around a mouthful of apple.

“Please find Abiene,” Carahil told Darnand. “I shall take him to the procedure room.”

Carahil led him through one of the side doors and down a set of well-lit stone stairs. Jerric recognized the cool light as the same that illuminated the lower levels of Cloud Ruler Temple. He peeked over the top of one of the wall sconces as he passed. The half-bowl shape was filled with small chips of glowing aquamarine stone.

He followed Carahil’s tall form into a small, equally bright room. Open shelves lined the walls, and the center of the room held a high bed, almost a table. A metal fixture hung over the bed, lighting it with Welkynd stones. He found a metal waste can and dropped his apple cores in, then wiped the juice on the seat of his trousers. Carahil’s gaze was on him, and he flushed. He had time to notice that the shelves held a great deal of folded linen before Abiene and Darnand entered the room, saving him from having to comment.

Abiene wore her white robe with an apron, and her hair was contained under a white wrap. He found that his fingers wanted to twine themselves in the curling tendrils that had escaped. She walked to him and took his arm, looking up intently into his face. “Are you ready for this?” she asked.

“Yeah. I mean, you just want me to hold still, right? I don’t think I need to study for it.” When she didn’t smile back at him, he realized how tense she must be. He glanced over at Darnand. “Are you here to make sure I don’t run away?”

“Indeed,” Darnand replied crisply. “Shall I paralyze you now, or would you like a head start?”

“In the chair,” Abiene said. “Here, straddle it and lean forward over the back.” She pulled his shirt over his head and handed it to a very young Altmer lad who seemed to have appeared out of thin air. Jerric felt Abiene’s hands on his shoulders, giving them a secret squeeze. She stepped away and began making her mysterious preparations with the Altmer.

Carahil stood where Jerric could see her. “Did Abiene explain the procedure to you?” she asked.

“She’s going to cut on me a little, then heal it. On that scar.” He tipped his head toward the affected shoulder.

Carahil looked over Jerric’s head at something. Abiene stepped around where he could see her. She used her fingertip on his skin to illustrate her explanation. “I’m going to cut along the edges of the scar here and here, then run the knife under the skin to remove the adhesions,” Abiene told him. “You will still have a scar, but it will not pull at your skin any more when you move your shoulder.” He could hear metal clinking on metal behind him. He caught the scent of her hair, the mint stems she liked to nibble, and the faint tang of her nervous sweat. “I need you to hold still, Jerric. It’s going to hurt.”

“Not as much as when it happened, I’ll bet.” He smiled up at her. “Go ahead, I’m not worried.”

She worked quickly, murmuring softly to her Altmer helper. It burned fiercely for a few moments while he guessed she was cutting, not even long enough for sweat to pop out on his skin. Swirling white light was followed by some splashing and wiping. Abiene’s hands on his shoulders again told him she had finished. “There,” she said to Carahil triumphantly.

Jerric could still see Carahil’s face. She nodded briskly to Abiene. “You have your recommendation.” Then she smiled and swept out of the room.

“I’ll finish up, Yanerion,” Abiene told the Altmer. “Thank you for your assistance.”

Yanerion folded his hands and bowed to Abiene, almost reverently. He shot Jerric a curious look, but didn’t speak as he too left the room.

Abiene let out a great sigh of relief. She stepped back around in front of Jerric. “I’m glad they left, it will be much better this way,” she said over his head to Darnand.

“What will be better?” asked Jerric.

[haute ecole rider]

And I'm still hanging!

Great description of the surgery from the patient's perspective.

Though a spell to numb the area before cutting would be great - the TES version of a local anesthetic. Hmm - *scribbles notes to self*

Okay, I'm back. It's great to get inside Jerric's head again. The transactions with Morvayn and Enilroth were fun, especially this:

They both glanced over at Enilroth. The young Bosmer rolled his eyes without breaking the rhythm of his tapping. “How does he do that?” Varel demanded, exasperated. “I would swear the lad can read minds.”

This speaks volumes of the relationship between master and journeyman! They remain two of my favorites of the Anvil residents.