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

[Grits]

haute ecole rider: You’re right, he thought that since they both knew it, they didn’t have to talk about it. Um, nope. Thankfully his uncertainty let him do what she needed him to do, just shut up and hold on. I should have apologized in advance to all of the fellows for the accidental knee. It sure ended that conversation. You’re completely right about Abiene, changing Jerric is not in her playbook.

Foxy: What, did you say your pen is giving you much more pleasure than your computas? Maybe there is a way to use them both!

mALX: Abiene was definitely out of sorts. She was overdue for a meltdown. Poor Jerric got the knee, but at least it wasn’t another crying jag. I can see him writing a note on his arm for next time: Hump first, then learn spell.

Acadian: I remember Buffy’s dreams of a clannfear, yikes. She overcame her fear so beautifully when she became a Daedra Slayer. Hopefully Jerric will also get to the source of his worries. The elegant solutions provided by illusion magic seem to be out of his reach. For now he’s a still single serving of Nord in a can for a daedroth. Thank you for your kind words. Once folk start laughing and crying, it’s hard to get them to stop.

Ceidwad: Thank you, Ceidwad, I’m so glad you’re reading! There are some dark times coming from where you are in the story, but it’s not all gloom.

Where we are: In Anvil, training and earning some gold. Also, we may have intermittent short breaks brought to you by RL and summer, but we hope to be able to continue posting regularly.




Chapter 11 Holidays: Part 1


Jerric and Darnand passed through the tidy farmyard, scattering chickens as they went. A gaggle of grey geese raised their heads behind them, honking their remarks into the chilly air. Jerric turned and closed the gate behind them. He raised his hand in farewell to the Nord woman standing in the open doorway of her cottage. Rhano had been right. The years had not been kind to Maeva.

The two men headed back down the dirt track away from Whitmond. All of the farmhouses in the small community had been built clustered together, with their fields and pastures spreading around them. It made for a pleasant walk through cultivated land.

“What do you think?” asked Jerric.

“I think tackling a band of marauders by ourselves sounds reckless.”

“No, about Maeva.” Jerric knew his friend wasn’t ready to decide if he would do the job. He wanted to give him a little more time to think.

“You don’t see many dark-haired Nords.”

“Darnand, are you telling me you spent that whole time looking at her hair?”

“Well, I saw why they call her Maeva the Buxom.”

“Plus she has a set of hips that a man could hang on to," Jerric remarked. "She works that farm alone. She must be as strong as a horse.”

“It appears that she perspires like a horse. She is not overly pretty.”

“If you put a Nord on the Gold Coast, there’s bound to be some sweating, even in Evening Star. Anyway, she’s lonely, and I think she likes us. She likes me, at least. I guess that makes her pretty enough.” Jerric realized he had just summed up his general approach with women.

“She is married," Darnand pointed out. "Remember Bjalfi the Contemptible?”

“She’s married now. I don’t think this Bjalfi is going to hand over the mace and trot along home. ‘The Contemptible’ is no joke, leaving his woman is the worst kind of betrayal. Bjalfi is a disgrace.”

Darnand halted and stared at Jerric. “You would kill a man to get under his wife’s skirt?”

“Of course not! That’s a fine thing to say to me.” Jerric unclenched his fists as they continued down the path. “I’m just saying I can see how it might work out that way.” They passed a small flock of sheep headed slowly up the hill, tended by an old man and a young dog. The shepherd gave them a gap-toothed grin as they passed.

“The reward she could give us is nothing compared to what we could loot from the gang,” Jerric continued. “I mean salvage. They might even have some enchanted gear. I can’t do it alone; it would be foolish to try. I’ll need at least one other mage with me, and it would be best if we could find some sneaky archer.” Darnand already seemed to think of them as a team, but Jerric didn’t want to make assumptions.

“Penetrating a marauders’ fortress will require a different mindset than simply reacting to an attack on one’s person.”

“Yeah.”

“Is Fort Strand not within the Legion’s jurisdiction?”

“No, it’s County Anvil’s problem. The Legion won’t do anything without the right parchment from the castle, and no one who knows what’s going on up at the fort is alive to fill out the reports. Anvil Militia is busy patrolling for daedra and tending their winter crops, they’re not going to go looking for trouble in a ruin. And it’s way too far for the City Guard. It’s actually a pretty good spot to hole up, if you’re outside the law.” Dammit, Jerric thought. That was probably a little too much truth.

They made the turn onto the Gold Road and headed down toward the Anvil Main Gate. The sun had dropped low enough to shine in their eyes. Jerric’s thoughts turned to dinner. The Mages Guild always laid a good table. He gave himself an experimental sniff. Not good enough, he decided. Perhaps the Fighters Guild. He was in a mood for an evening of beer and storytelling. There was also The Flowing Bowl, of course. If he dined there he would only have a short stagger down the beach between his last ale and his pillow. Then Abiene quietly filled his mind. He imagined her with hunger in her eyes and the firelight golden on her skin. It was easy to stay silent and let Darnand think.

“I think we should recruit some help,” Darnand finally said. “There’s a Bosmer staying at the guild hall who is in need of coin. A hunter. She might be willing to come along.”

“A hunter in the Mages Guild?”

“I did not inquire as to what, or whom, she hunts. She is an archer and an illusionist, among other things.”

“That sounds perfect.”

Now that they had agreed to do the job, Jerric let his mind move on to other matters. He estimated the time it would take to walk the rest of the way to town, weighing it against the list of questions he had for Darnand.

Darnand spoke before he had chosen one. “I know that look. What is it that you would like to discuss?”

Jerric decided he should just stop wondering how Darnand guessed these things. “Well, I was just trying to pick a question.”

“Perhaps I can render assistance. What is the general subject?”

“Necromancy.”

“Ah. My understanding is still quite limited.” Darnand gave Jerric his thoughtful look. “Hmm… How do skeletons work, or How do you make a zombie?”

Jerric laughed out loud. He recognized his own inflection in Darnand’s phrasing. “How do skeletons work?”

“An excellent question. Please remember that my response only reflects my current understanding.”

“All right. Consider me advised.”

“The undead skeleton is a construct, made from mortal remains. During the enchantment ritual, the necromancer converts magicka into the life energy the skeleton requires to operate. He also imbues the skeleton with his own will to direct it. Part of the skeleton’s energy is used to maintain its structural integrity, while the rest allows the skeleton to carry out its function. The skeleton can be recharged with magicka like a weapon. Physically damaging it causes it to use up its energy repairing itself, eventually breaking the enchantment. Of course destroying it utterly suits the same purpose, it will deplete itself in an instant trying to repair catastrophic damage.”

“Do you think you could make one?” Jerric felt his stomach twist at the thought.

“I can imagine why you might think it possible.” Darnand’s expression looked more intense than usual. “That path has opened to me, but I will not take it. You must understand that even this knowledge could make me suspect, in the Guild’s current political climate. I would not have you admit what I have told you and by extension implicate yourself.”

Implicate myself in what, Jerric wondered. He decided to stick to the subject of skeletons. “That explains a lot. How they can lurch about for a century, then fall to pieces when you smack them with a hammer. And why they’re still hanging around places, even after their masters are gone.” Jerric glanced over at Darnand. His moment of concern seemed to have passed.

“We discussed trapping soul energy before. Do you suppose it is possible to trap a skeleton’s soul energy?”

Jerric thought for a moment. “Yeah, because it’s magicka from a necromancer being used instead of life energy. Wait, no, because it’s an animated construct that needs to be recharged.” He felt an unfamiliar sensation. It was his brow furrowing.

“An animated construct that can…” Darnand encouraged him.

“Cut your head off? No, wait! Repair itself! Like Abiene’s new restoration! So yes, you can trap the soul energy of a skeleton.” He looked over triumphantly.

Darnand gave him a small smile. “Indeed. Although I confess I have never done so.”

Jerric slowed his steps to buy more time. “What about the skeleton’s spirit?” he asked. “What does that do?”

“The mortal’s spirit would be gone long before the necromancer began to work with the remains. A zombie is a similar process, with a fresher body. The nature of the remains helps determine its use for the necromancer. And of course the enchantments used in their creation differ. I expect that something in the difference allows skeletons to wield weapons, while zombies rely upon unarmed attacks.”

Jerric looked down the road at the Main Gate. If he wanted more, he would have to be quick. “So the spirit could become a ghost?”

“The ethereal undead are spirits, the physical, constructs. That is of course an oversimplification. Some spirits are cursed by others to stay with their physical remains, or wherever the necromancer places them. Other spirits linger in this realm on their own. There is far more that I do not yet understand. Perhaps for now you have more questions regarding skeletons.”

“Yeah. My skeleton, Slim. When I summon him, I’m bringing the real him here from wherever he is, right?”

“Yes.”

“And the first time I used the spell to find him and make the connection, that time was different.”

“Yes. I expect you used a ritual to identify him. You will remember it was much more difficult.”

“Yeah.”

“It is of great interest to me that you found it so. For most, the difficulty of bringing the summons pales in comparison to their first struggle to control it.”

“Uh...”

“An academic side note. Please, continue.”

“So some day in some ruin, I could fight the real Slim.”

“It is unlikely, but possible.”

“Why doesn’t…” Jerric stopped to think about it first. “The energy he uses while he’s with me comes from me, from my magicka. Then he goes back to his original condition.” Jerric got the sick feeling back in his stomach. “Summoning is… Well, we couldn’t do that kind without necromancers.”

“Indeed. That is why summoning is considered a dark art. Why some stand against it.”

“Like Carahil.”

“Daedric summoning is considered no better by some. However, I would not wish to summon something that I held with affection to suffer and die on my behalf.”

“What about animals? Are they real bears from somewhere that spriggans summon?”

Darnand stopped in the road. “I am afraid this discussion requires far more time than the afternoon allows. I suggest we postpone it. For now, I have business with my horse.”

Jerric blinked, surprised by Darnand’s candor. Then he realized they were standing outside Horse Whisperer Stables. “You have a horse?”

Darnand raised an eyebrow. “Indeed.”

“Why didn’t we ride to Whitmond?”

Astonishment flooded Darnand’s face. “You invited me to walk to Whitmond with you.”

Jerric laughed. “And you’re supposed to be the smart one. Well, at least it’s a nice day. And the climb up the hill probably did you good.”

“I am certain that it stimulated your appetite. Shall I meet you at the guild hall, or would you like me to introduce you to my horse?” Jerric could see the smile in Darnand’s eyes.

“I’ll stay with you. One more thing.” Jerric felt a little like a child with his questions, but he was too curious to give up easily.

Darnand sighed. His eyebrows appeared to be engaged in some kind of struggle.

“Slim’s axe,” Jerric said quickly. “I’ve thought about giving him a better weapon. But then he might kill someone with it wherever he is.”

“Such actions are not without consequences. Though those who would seek out a necromancer’s lair should be prepared for the possibility of meeting a skeleton that has been armed and trained by a Nord Battlemage. So some day in some ruin, you might find a necromancer thanking you for your efforts.”

Jerric felt an instant of horror, then he laughed. “Now you’re messing with me.”

“Indeed. Let us go to the horses.”

This post has been edited by Grits: Jun 5 2011, 02:03 AM

[haute ecole rider]

Ai yi yi! I always thought summons were a piece of the spellcaster's magicka - an extension of their energy so to speak. But the way you describe it feels like it might be more effective. Hmmm, food for thought.

And Darnand has a horse?

My plan with Fort Strand always involved using the shadows and sneaking around, lots of camouflage and detect life spells.

[Acadian]

What delightful banter between Jerric and Darnand! So they are considering a task in Fort Strand. And a Bosmeri huntress at the guild who is an illusionist? That sounds excitingly familiar, since you don't see too many mystic archers.

It was great fun to hear Darnand's thoughts on soul gem filling and summons. Very interesting and well-thought out.

As ever, just a real pleasure to read!


Oh my. I do have one sort of writing nit. It is a small one and quite subjective. To make matters worse, it takes a moment or two to explain. I see a tendency for you to minimize use of speech tags - to the point that it causes the reader to work a little bit to keep track of who is speaking. At least for me, that is slightly distracting. Here is an example where I would recommend a few more speech tags. Again, it is certainly possible to sort out who is speaking but additional speech tags would let it flow without having to think about it. ---

“Well, I saw why they call her Maeva the Buxom.”
“Plus she has a set of hips that a man could hang on to. She works that farm alone. She must be as strong as a horse.”
“It appears that she perspires like a horse. She is not overly pretty.”
“If you put a Nord on the Gold Coast, there’s bound to be some sweating, even in Evening Star. Anyway, she’s lonely, and I think she likes us. She likes me, at least. I guess that makes her pretty enough.”
“She is married. Remember Bjalfi the Contemptible?”
“She’s married now. I don’t think this Bjalfi is going to hand over the mace and trot along home. ‘The Contemptible’ is no joke, leaving his woman is the worst kind of betrayal. Bjalfi is a disgrace.”

Now, please remember that I pride myself on being a very simple writer. One of the casualties of that is that I read the same way. So. . . you can certainly ignore this and not hurt my feelings.

This post has been edited by Acadian: Jun 5 2011, 12:33 AM

[Zalphon]

I like that discussion on summoning

[Ceidwad]

I've caught up now. I love the fine detail you weave into your story and of course the witheringly hilarious humour. Your characters are marvellously alive on every page of your story and every page makes me laugh.

Some of my favourites from the last few pages:

[Abiene] rested her hand on Darnand’s shoulder and lifted her skirt to step over the bench. Jerric looked, hoping to catch a glimpse of thigh. Then he quickly looked away, hoping he hadn’t been caught.

Surely he got a good enough look before? Classic Jerric.

“What happened?” Gulitte asked Darnand eagerly. Darnand’s knuckles were still white on his kahve mug. Jerric considered kicking Gulitte, but he couldn’t get an angle.

Cursed geometry! Brilliant touch of detail there.

It could have been hours later, or only one. Jerric’s head pounded as if he had tried to drown himself in flin. His neck burned with tension, and his legs needed to run. Abiene looked ready to weep. He still had not learned any illusion magic.

“Once again,” Abiene said hopelessly.

“Never mind, I’ll keep using torches.”

The subtlety of illusion eludes Jerric? I guess that's the price he pays for being a jack of all trades rather than a full-time mage. But hey, as long as those trusty torches are around, who needs magicka? Love Abiene's feeling of exasperation here.

“You don’t see many dark-haired Nords.”

“Darnand, are you telling me you spent that whole time looking at her hair?”

“Well, I saw why they call her Maeva the Buxom.”

“Plus she has a set of hips that a man could hang on to," Jerric remarked. "She works that farm alone. She must be as strong as a horse.”

“It appears that she perspires like a horse. She is not overly pretty.”

Lovely rapport, as ever, between Jerric and Darnand. I wonder how Jerric would have Maeva exploit her horse-strength? Then again, probably shouldn't go there.....

And then I also enjoyed the discussion of necromancy and summoning. Very logical and well-thought through.

[mALX]

“Plus she has a set of hips that a man could hang on to," Jerric remarked. "She works that farm alone. She must be as strong as a horse.”

“It appears that she perspires like a horse. She is not overly pretty.”

“If you put a Nord on the Gold Coast, there’s bound to be some sweating, even in Evening Star. Anyway, she’s lonely, and I think she likes us. She likes me, at least. I guess that makes her pretty enough.”

ROFL !!! Jerric is as natural as they come, and for once Darnand is the hilarious one, ROFL !!!

He felt an unfamiliar sensation. It was his brow furrowing.

Loved that line! Jerric is used to thinking split-second on his feet, not pondering weighty matters, lol.

Darnand revealed a subtle humor in this chapter that rounded him out a bit!

Awesome Write !!!

[SubRosa]

Caught back up again. I am not surprised that Jerric reacted badly to his first taste of illusion magic. He is a man of direct action, the kind who does things with his own two hands. I can see why the idea of something that subtly alters his perceptions would unsettle him.

Also a nice bit of world-building with the summoning of undead. Isn't it interesting that you can only summon monstrous things in this game? I think the devs just did not want to go to the time and effort to create a 'good' class of summons, so they just recycled the daedra and undead instead.

So now Jerric and Darnand (and Buffy?) are an adventuring team? A nice bit of realism with the understanding that one person cannot hope to tackle a marauder fortress by themself. In the game of course, all your enemies are kind enough to spread themselves out, never use lookouts to warn of dangers, organize a defense against incursions, or pay any attention to the guy dying from arrow-fire right beside them. How refreshing to see a bit of reality instead!

[Grits]

haute ecole rider: I’m out on a limb a little with summoning, I’m glad it seems to work. Now that Jerric has someone who will answer his questions, he’s thinking more about magely matters. Sneak and snipe is how I always handle Fort Strand, too, as well as the Azura quest. Then along came Jerric with his heavy feet and shiny suit. He needs a different plan.

Acadian: You’re so right about that section you pointed out, I removed too many speech tags while I was editing. I always hope to make reading as free of distractions as possible, thank you so much for bringing that to my attention! I added a few speech tags to smooth that part out.

The Bosmer invasion continues! Jerric was lucky to find her, I hear that Bravil is the place for an archer to be this season. I’ve finally made her into a game character so that I would have a better idea how to write her, and we have been having so much fun. She is pretty much the opposite of Jerric! Darnand is finally enjoying Jerric’s company, I’m glad it showed.

Zalphon: I’m glad you liked it! I thought I should get the basics down before I start adding things.

Ceidwad: I think Jerric could always stand to see a little more. Thank you for your kind words, I’m so glad you’re enjoying the story! It’s fun to write Jerric and Darnand out in the world together, where Darnand is less likely to get annoyed by Jerric. I’m glad the necromancy/summoning worked for you, there are some fun things to add if I ever get to it.

mALX: It was fun to show Darnand loosening up a little. You are so right about how Jerric thinks! Thank you, mALX!

SubRosa: You have identified Jerric’s issue with illusion magic perfectly. Just about the worst thing he can imagine himself doing is acting on a lie, which is what illusion could do to him. I had to postpone the discussion of summoning animals until I figure out how to do it in the story, I think conjuration could provide all sorts of interesting spells. Hopefully this hunter can help shed some light. I love Teresa’s mountain lion in your videos! I agree, the game could have done a lot more with summoning.

Where we are: Planning an assault on the Fort Strand marauders.



Chapter 11 Holidays: Part 2


Jerric stood alone in the mages guild dining hall, waiting for Darnand to find the hunter. The tables had already been laid for the evening meal. Not for you, he reminded himself. You smell too much like work. Darnand strode into the room and stopped at Jerric’s side without speaking. A small figure followed him on silent feet.

Jerric quickly looked her over. She wore her dark hair pulled off her face into a high braid that hung down her back, he couldn’t see how far. Her skin looked browned by the sun, her eyes the light green of new leaves. Her delicate ears swooped up majestically, framing her heart-shaped face. Her fine features wore a calculating look. He thought that if he reached out and tweaked her adorable little nose the way he would like to, he would probably draw back a stump. Her erect carriage and springy stride reminded him of an acrobat. She looked trim and strong in her simple green dress. He guessed that under it, her shoulders and back would be tightly packed with muscle. Her front was nicely round, he noticed. There was much to admire in her diminutive frame. He decided that a better time to study it would be later.

“I’m Jerric,” he said.

“Lildereth.” Her voice made him think of clear water. She was examining him critically under a sharply angled brow.

“Pleased to meet you.”

“Couldn’t you find anyone bigger?” she asked Darnand. “A dead man could hear his footsteps.”

“You’ll be able to stand behind me and shoot between my knees,” Jerric told her.

“I’m sure you don’t even use your sword,” she retorted. “You just whip out your meat and beat them to death with it.”

Jerric’s eyebrows went up. “The mouth on you,” he breathed in admiration. Felen glanced over at them as he passed with his stack of books.

Darnand looked as if he was experiencing a pain. “Perhaps we might retire to a place where we can talk. I suggest the Count’s Arms.”

“How about The Flowing Bowl,” said Jerric. “Wilbur doesn’t like me. Plus the sun will be going down soon, and the best place to see it is the harbor.” The other two were giving him looks. “What?”

“Nothing,” said Darnand. “The Flowing Bowl, then. Let us proceed.”

“I want to check your gear,” Lildereth said to Jerric. “You keep everything here?”

“Yeah, in the basement.”

“Let’s go there first.”

Lildereth examined Jerric’s gear without comment. Jerric decided she was saving up her remarks for a venue less crowded with curious Associates. The basement workroom was buzzing with tense students trying to finish their tasks before dinner.

Soon she stepped back from Jerric’s cupboard and gave him a nod. He took that to mean she was satisfied, or at least finished looking. “You don’t need to show me yours,” he said to her with a grin. A sideways glance told him she was amused. “Let’s get over to the Bowl. I’m afraid you might not make it back here in time for dinner.”

She shrugged her reply. Jerric knew that Darnand was never concerned about his next meal. The three of them made their way Harborside to The Flowing Bowl.

The tables inside were crowded, and the air full of muttering. They found Caenlorn behind the bar, looking hassled. He slammed three bottles onto the planks without taking their order. “Beer!” he announced. “Take it or leave it! Meat’s not ready yet!”

Darnand put the coins down, and Jerric scooped up the bottles. “Do you have anything left from lunch?” Jerric asked Caenlorn.

Caenlorn’s eyes began to slightly protrude. His mouth worked violently, but no sounds made their way out. Jerric decided to flee before the mer got his tongue organized.

Lildereth led them upstairs and out a narrow door Jerric had never noticed. He followed her up a ladder to the Bowl’s flat roof. The spare furnishings told him that a select few regularly enjoyed the harbor’s sights from this semi-private perch. Lildereth quickly pulled three chairs together. She seated herself with a smile, indicating the vivid sky with the sweep of one hand.

“Sunset,” Jerric said, grinning. He handed her a bottle. Darnand took one and seated himself gingerly in the Bosmer-sized chair. Jerric simply sat down on the boards. He thought Caenlorn might have a fatal fit of temper if he broke something. The evening was too fine to ask for that kind of weight on his conscience.

Jerric could see ships’ masts and rigging, Anvil Castle, and the top of the lighthouse from his position on the roof. The railing around the street side appeared to be solid, but the fading light shone through at regular intervals through vertical slits. Jerric knew that from the street, the roof appeared to be peaked. This spot would make an excellent lookout over the harbor. He marveled that Lildereth had shown it to them.

Darnand sat back with his bottle in his hands, watching him. Jerric decided that meant he should do the talking. She hasn’t agreed yet, he reminded himself.

“There’s a Nord woman in Whitmond, name of Maeva the Buxom,” Jerric began. “She married a man named Bjalfi the Contemptible, if you can believe it. Her Fa gave them a family heirloom on their wedding day. Rockshatter, a mace. It’s enchanted with shock and weakness to shock, so you can guess it’s valuable. Also I wouldn’t want to get hit with it, at least not more than once. Anyway, this Bjalfi grabbed up the mace and ran off to Fort Strand to find his fortune with the marauders there. We’re assuming he’s alive and working with them. Maeva wants her mace back. She was unspecific as to what we should do with Bjalfi.”

Lildereth’s expression was hard for Jerric to read. She looks thoughtful, he decided.

“Are you hiring me, or would we be partners?” she asked.

Jerric glanced at Darnand. “Partners,” Darnand said. “Even split.”

“So I won’t get paid if we decide it’s a bad job.”

“No,” Darnand answered her. Jerric realized there was a lot he hadn’t considered.

“What do you know about the marauders?” she asked.

“Nothing yet,” said Darnand. “I expect we should watch the fort for at least a day to get an idea of their numbers. Jerric will ask around at the Fighters Guild to see if he can get an idea how the ruin is laid out underground. He trusts that no one there would be in contact with the gang. The reward from Maeva will be minimal. We anticipate selling what we find in the fort.”

Lildereth looked thoughtful some more. “I know what you can do,” she said to Darnand. Then her eyes went to Jerric. “And I’ve heard of you. What else should I know?”

Jerric’s mind went to the lava tunnels he had passed through in the Deadlands. “I’m not so great underground,” he admitted. He hoped he didn’t look as uncomfortable as he felt. “I get lost sometimes. I can find my way back once I come across something I’ve killed, though. I just need landmarks.”

Lildereth’s expression didn’t change. “I suppose you’re not much of a liar,” she remarked. “We need to go through some caves first for practice. There are plenty along the coast. I’d like to see how you move before I agree to this job.” She looked over at Darnand. “You too, I don’t want a fireball in my back if you get jumpy.”

“Fair enough,” said Jerric. Darnand nodded.

“Do you have questions for me?” she asked.

Darnand answered first. “Felen vouched for you. Should concerns arise, I will surely ask you to address them.”

“I’ll know what I think when I see you shoot,” Jerric told her. He knew Lildereth would not take that as an insult. “I guess a cave trip is a good idea, even if we don’t run up against anything more fearsome than a mudcrab.”

Lildereth made a decisive nod. “About your gear, Nord. Whatever we plan, we will rely on stealth. I’m not taking you into the shadows in plate armor and mail. You make enough noise just breathing.” She looked him straight in the eye. “I’m not asking about your helm, but I could tell it’s enchanted.”

Jerric had been expecting this complaint. Her expression had said a lot when she examined his armor. “I’ll talk to Morvayn about some leather. You’re right about my helm, that could make up the difference. What else?”

“Can either of you cast a spell of silence?” she asked them.

“You mean curse someone’s magicka?” said Jerric.

“No, a spell to magically dampen the sounds that you make.”

Jerric glanced at Darnand. He looked as surprised as Jerric felt. Darnand gave his head a small shake. “Uh, no,” said Jerric. “Sounds like illusion magic.”

“It is.” A shadow passed over Lildereth’s face, and then it was gone. She ran a scathing glance over Jerric. “It would be useful for someone like you.”

Jerric shook his head. “It would have to come from a scroll or a potion. My head’s not made for illusion.”

“Such a spell would be of interest to me,” Darnand told her. “Perhaps we can discuss it at a later time.”

Lildereth gave Darnand another brisk nod. “Let’s talk about potions,” she said to Jerric. “I have all the poisons I’ll need. In addition to the usual restoratives, I would suggest you bring some to provide a chameleon effect, to help keep you hidden. If we get in a real scrape, you’ll be the one out there trading steel. They won’t be able to find me, if I’m doing my job. I suppose you’re familiar with shield magic.” She looked over at Darnand. “Mage?”

“If it comes to fighting, I shall conjure a daedra to increase our number, then fall back with fire spells. Perhaps a fire atronach. You might absorb any stray attacks, Jerric, and her fire will make it harder for the enemy to distinguish her attacks from mine.”

When Darnand finished speaking, Lildereth looked back over at Jerric.

“I could spin a fancy tale, but what I’ll likely do is summon Slim and go in swinging,” Jerric said. “Maybe I should summon Precious, though, if we’re using fire to confuse them.”

Lildereth’s eyebrows went up, and her lush little mouth began to form a question.

“Slim is a skeleton. Precious is his scamp,” Darnand said to Lildereth. “Are you able to summon an ally?”

“A skeleton,” she said ruefully. “But I can’t always control her. She might attack either one of you.”

“She?” Darnand and Jerric both asked. They shared a skeptical glance.

“Yes, she. Why not? Must you humans assume that all dangerous creatures are male? Besides, I can tell from her pelvis that she was once a woman.”

“Oh,” said Darnand. His expression said the rest.

“Ugh,” Jerric agreed. He decided he didn’t want to know any more about that subject.

“We should discuss security issues,” said Darnand. “Specifically, how we will examine the contents of locked containers. I have some alteration magic, but my spells are unreliable.” Both men looked at Lildereth.

“I don’t suppose you’re a locksmith,” she remarked to Jerric.

He laughed. “I hope I don’t insult you by assuming that you are.”

Lildereth gave a small smile. For an instant she looked hauntingly beautiful, then her business expression slid back into place. “How will you two see in the dark? Their living quarters will doubtlessly be well-lit, but getting there unseen will be critical.” She paused, looking straight at Jerric. “What I mean is, no torches.”

“I have the appropriate spell,” Darnand said.

Jerric sighed and shook his head. “So far I’m not bringing much to this party.”

Lildereth gave him another candid look. She spoke with crisp precision. “If I am able to work as I plan, you will be needed only to carry home the salvage. If I am not, you are the most likely to see your blood on the floor. That is the nature of our respective roles.”

“Uh, right.” Jerric saw that Lildereth was still watching him expectantly. “Oh, I have a ring that will let me see life energy. I can follow your life signs, and use a potion if I need to watch my footing. I guess I’ll be keeping my calcinator hot while you take your turn watching the fort. Any idea what I would need to make a potion of silencing like that spell you mentioned?”

“No,” Lildereth replied quietly. “I learned the spell in Valenwood, from a Khajiit. Perhaps an alchemist from Elsweyr would have a better idea.”

Her expression brought more questions to his mind, but Jerric knew they would have to wait. He looked a little harder at Lildereth. She didn’t appear any older than he was, but he knew that meant next to nothing. This isn’t your Running Wolf team, he reminded himself. Working together doesn’t make you friends. After the job, you may never see this elf again. Forget about what might make her look sad.

“A cave, then,” Darnand spoke up. His eyes were on the Bosmer. “Do you have a suggestion?”

Lildereth smiled wider this time. “I know just the one.”

This post has been edited by Grits: Jun 7 2011, 06:36 PM

[mALX]

Jerric's huge appetite keeps me rolling, you pop it in at the funniest times! Lildereth is certainly an interesting addition, I like this trio, it is bringing out the best in Darnand and Jerric both - I love seeing the two of them back working side by side again, they play so well off each other. Awesome Chapter, and intriguing !!

[Acadian]

Wonderful! Jerric and Darnand were brilliantly true to form, but Lildereth really stole the show here. You so perfectly capture the mindset of an elven huntress, exemplified in these two passages:

"If we get in a real scrape, you’ll be the one out there trading steel. They won’t be able to find me, if I’m doing my job."

“If I am able to work as I plan, you will be needed only to carry home the salvage. If I am not, you are the most likely to see your blood on the floor. That is the nature of our respective roles.”

For good reason, she is cautious, skittish and extremely detailed in her planning - right down to requiring a rehearsal with her potential partners.

You did a beautiful job with this three way dialogue. Your supporting mannerisms and actions were perfectly natural and it was totally clear who was speaking at all times. So nice in fact, that it was quite easy to just melt right into the dialogue - especially the roof top exchanges.

[D.Foxy]

DANG...and friend Acadian has preempted most of what I was gonna say!

Grits - you DO have a gift for dialogue. Ever thought of becoming a screenplay writer?

And now, the obligatory DFoxy sixth grader humour:

“I’m sure you don’t even use your sword,” she retorted. “You just whip out your meat and beat them to death with it.”

I thought men were supposed to beat their meat by THEMSELVES???

[haute ecole rider]

Acadian already commented on the things I noticed, specifically Lildereth. She sounds like the sort of heroine I usually write - tough, competent, and mysterious. I really liked her and thought her addition added something to an already fantastic story.

And Foxy, sometimes men need a little help beating their meat, know whut ah mean?

[Grits]

mALX: Thank you, mALX! Jerric gets his appetite from my brother, and other athletes I have known. My brother once looked up from his plate and said, “I’m still hungry, but I’m so tired of chewing!” I’m glad you like Lildereth so far. She has been waiting since the winter for her chance to get in the story.

Acadian: Thank you, Acadian! Your approval of Lildereth means so much! Her skill set is of course very much inspired by Buffy. Bravil’s blonde Bosmeri bowgirl is so different from Jerric, she is an ongoing source of fascination.

D. Foxy: Thank you, Foxy! About the meat, I think you must be right. Perhaps someone should do some research to be sure.

haute ecole rider: I’m so glad you liked Lildereth, and you describe her just as I see her. She’s still a little mysterious to me! Thank you, haute!


Where we are: Jerric, Darnand, and Lildereth have planned a practice run before they take on the Fort Strand marauders.



Chapter 11 Holidays: Part 3

Jerric leaned against the dining hall’s door frame, waiting for Darnand to finish speaking with Abiene. The two of them stood with their heads bent slightly together. Both of them had their arms crossed over their chests. Darnand wore the intent expression that usually indicated he was deeply involved in his work, and an excellent target for a prank. Abiene’s pink cheeks and sweet mouth filled Jerric’s mind with a rush of distracting images. He wrenched his attention back with an effort.

They make a handsome couple, he noticed. Both of them dark-haired and elegant. They even sound good together. Their voices rose and fell in the lilting cadence that he associated with Bretons. They mostly sound that way when they’re talking to each other, he realized.

Darnand turned and started toward him, and Abiene looked over at Jerric behind his back. Her dark eyes seemed to fill with promise.

“Have you made your preparations?” Darnand asked him. He raised an eyebrow. “I am certain that smile is not for me.”

“It’s a great day for a walk up the coast,” Jerric said hastily. He reached out and thumped Darnand’s shoulder to distract him. “Where’s Lildereth?”

“Right behind you,” said Lildereth. Jerric flinched in surprise.

“All right,” Jerric said. “Let’s go.” He nodded his farewell across the room. “Abiene.”

Abiene’s warm smile included all of them. “May Stendarr guide your steps, my friends.”

It was indeed a great day for a walk up the coast, Jerric decided. Lildereth led them along the grassy hills behind the dunes. The air was cool enough to keep him from sweating. The sun sparkled on the water off to their left, and the breeze coming from the sea felt playful. Lildereth turned inland before he even wanted a snack. They walked for only a few more minutes before she stopped them. She looked up at the hillside, pointing. “There,” she said.

Jerric stood looking up at a square opening in the sandy bank. The dressed stone surrounding the entrance appeared to be intact, but the ground had fallen or washed away under it. An ugly scramble up to get in, he thought. Or a drop down from above.

Lildereth spoke beside him. “It’s an old sewer. I’ve been through some of the passages, but not into the vaulted areas that must lie beyond. The life signs in there moved like undead. Should be an easy morning for you two.” Her glance took in both Jerric and Darnand, then returned to Jerric. “Or I know some dry caves we could walk through instead.”

“Um.” Jerric started talking before he could think what he would say. He didn’t want Darnand to have a chance to say no yet. “Looks like… Maybe… Ayleid.” Lildereth’s expression informed him how he sounded. “Garlas Malatar? That must be miles away.”

She blinked and twisted her lips into her half-smile. “Well, it seems you don’t carry all of your brains in your trousers. The ruin above ground is some distance from here, you’re right. I can’t confirm that this sewer connects to the chambers underground there. But I believe it was part of the same city.”

Jerric tried to keep his battling thoughts from reaching his face. He would never go into such a place on his own, but he longed to know what was in there. He tried to think what might tempt Darnand.

“Let us enter the passage,” Darnand said, to Jerric’s surprise. His expression looked bland. Jerric decided he must be concealing his own internal struggle. “We will proceed in the manner we discussed. Lead us as far as you have explored, if you please. At that time we will evaluate whether to continue.”

Lildereth turned and immediately began her nimble ascent to the opening. Jerric followed her more slowly, and with considerably more swearing. He heaved himself up onto his knees in the stone passage. Lildereth knelt inside watching him, as still and silent as one of the shadows. To Jerric’s shock, Darnand was right behind him.

“What the… Did you levitate or something?” Jerric asked him.

A guilty look flashed over Darnand’s face, quickly replaced by indignation. “Levitation is illegal in Cyrodiil,” he stated.

Lildereth’s expression remained shrouded. “Check your gear,” she said quietly. “Then we’ll go.”

Jerric stood and rearranged his weapons. His new leathers were surprisingly comfortable, and quiet. He drew Atronach’s Redeemer and tested the space in the passageway. A thigh-deep channel ran through the middle of the floor, leaving plenty of space to walk on either side. But not enough to fight, Jerric decided. I need to pick up a shorter blade. He thought wistfully of Chillrend. Lildereth waited on the left side of the passage. Jerric secured his helmet and nodded to her.

Spells flickered in the dim light, and Jerric knew they were about to move. Belatedly he dug in his pocket for his brass ring. When he slipped it on, pinkish halos surrounded Darnand’s robed figure and Lildereth’s crouching form. Jerric blinked and shook his head, trying to get used to it. He always removed the ring before daedra got this close to him. There’s nothing alive in here, he thought irritably. I could just use a damned torch. Then he sighed inwardly. It’s practice, he reminded himself. He followed Darnand’s glowing shape into the darkness.

Stepping cautiously through the black, Jerric had plenty of time to wonder what insects or reptiles were making those surreptitious noises all around him. Their life signs were too faint for him to see until he passed right under or beside them. Spider webs and roots brushed continuously over his face and helmet until he learned to crouch under Darnand’s height. He was surprised that there was no dank smell or sound of dripping water. Just a slight odor that he remembered from somewhere. Finally he was able to identify it from memories of childhood. It was the smell that rose up from digging in damp sand.

Several times Darnand signaled that he should be cautious with his footing, and Jerric had to gingerly feel his way over thick roots or fallen stone blocks. I’ll use a potion if we need to get out of here in a hurry, he decided. That means I should make sure I still have one.

He found that Darnand and Lildereth had stopped. Jerric dropped to one knee next to them.

“We are approaching an open gateway,” Lildereth told them softly. Jerric noticed that somehow she could speak without the harsh sibilants usually caused by whispering. “When we reach the chamber beyond, I will go on alone to scout. One hallway slopes upward and ends at a closed door. We will make our plan when I return from there. If I wave you back, that means we need to regroup farther down the passageway we came through. Do not get turned around in there, Nord. There are three other sewer branches that meet in this area.” Jerric found his inability to see her expression unnerving.

“I shall remain here as well,” Darnand remarked to Jerric. “I shall inform you if a situation arises that requires you to take a sight potion.” Jerric remembered that the two of them could see his face.

“All right,” Jerric said. He felt ill at ease in the dark, but less than he would have thought. “How did I sound back there?” he asked Lildereth.

“Like a pack of blind snow bears.” Her tone relayed her disgust.

“I’m not wearing real armor,” Jerric objected. He thought he had sounded rather stealthy.

“Your shield is metal,” she told him. “So are your hilts and buckles. When one meets another, it makes a noise. When you slide your feet, you make the sound of a deer carcass being dragged over dry leaves. Here is my first set of recommendations. Make more potions to see in the dark. You must reserve one today for a possible rapid retreat. But when we proceed in the presence of a threat, you must be able to see. Place your forward foot down quietly before you shift your weight, both of you. No more sliding, big man, and be aware of your boot heels. Mage, your robe flaps like a loose sail in the wind. Close-fitting shirt and trousers next time. And breathe through your mouth, Nord. Only the gods know how you are able to move air through that nose, but everyone on this plane can hear it.”

Jerric nodded. He didn’t really have anything to add, other than his hope that she would call Darnand “little man.” Lildereth’s glow faded as she moved away from them. He listened for the quiet stone snick of an Ayleid door closing, but he heard nothing.

While they waited he turned his eyes toward where he thought the unexplored passageways would be, watching for approaching life signs. Then he realized that if she thought an enemy might come from there, Lildereth would have told them. He found that he couldn’t judge time in the dark. It felt like they had waited long enough for Lildereth to be captured, butchered, cooked, and eaten. He was not pleased with the turn his thoughts had taken. “I’m going after her,” he said to Darnand.

“I’ll go first,” Darnand whispered back. “I’ll use a chameleon spell. I’ll call you if we need you.”

That confirmed Jerric’s thought that it had been too long. He made a chopping gesture. “Forget it. It’s too dangerous. We have no idea what’s in there.” Jerric drank a potion of night-eye, and the stone passage blinked into blue light around him. Darnand still appeared as an annoying glow, hunched on his knees. Jerric kept his ring on anyway. He started up the sloping hallway after Lildereth, joints stiff from kneeling.

Darnand grabbed Jerric’s arm, but Jerric simply hauled him along as he walked. “Wait!” Darnand hissed. “You’re too loud, you’ll give her away!”

“We’ll just wait in the entrance, then.” Jerric stopped at the door. A bright glow indicated that something stood right on the other side. Before he could decide what to do, the door silently opened. Lildereth slipped through and closed it behind her. Once she moved to his side, he could see several life signs moving slowly on the other side of the door.

“Zombies,” Lildereth said on a breath. “They didn’t see me. Get away from the door. We might as well knock if you two are going to stand out here arguing.”

She continued speaking when they had reached junction. “There’s a single large chamber beyond, with closed doors in the far wall. Five zombies are wandering around inside. There is adequate light from those little glow stones set in wall panels. The floor is clear in the center, but stay away from the walls. This may be the outer perimeter of someone’s operation. I don’t expect anyone uses the sewer as a regular entrance, there must be some other way up to the surface. This is probably only a rear guard, or even a place someone keeps their pets out of the way. Regardless, I’d like to see you two take down those zombies.”

Her eyes looked oddly pale to Jerric in his potion’s light. He decided that Lildereth appeared calm and alert. Darnand seemed excited and a little nervous. Jerric tested his own emotional state. He felt slightly worried. He hoped the zombie smell wouldn’t make him vomit in front of Lildereth.

He noticed she was giving him a sharp look. “I know it was your idea to follow me, Nord,” she said crisply. “Don’t do it again.”

“Right,” Jerric said. He guessed she wouldn’t want to hear any explanations.

“I was attempting to go first,” Darnand told her. Jerric appreciated the loyalty at the same time he wanted to punch Darnand for continuing the subject.

“Only because you didn’t think you could stop him,” Lildereth said to Darnand. “It’s hard to believe you’ve never used a spell to paralyze him. He’s tempted me, and I’ve only known him a few days.”

Jerric was speechless. Apparently so was Darnand.

“Well, when you do it,” she continued in a conversational tone, “Make sure you let him breathe before you hit him with it a second time.”

Darnand muttered something that sounded like “Atronach.”

“One more thing,” Lildereth told them. “You noticed those bones that we passed, kicked down into the drain channel? Well there are more bodies in this chamber, pushed to the sides. You don’t just stroll into these places and pick gold up off the ground. Part of our pay is the gear left by the fools who came here before us. That big blade of yours looks expensive, Jerric. Let’s try not to leave it here on the floor for the next fetchers.”

That’s the first time she’s called me by my name, Jerric realized. He grinned at her. “I’m not worried. I know you won’t leave my sword lying here in the dark.”

Lildereth gave her quirky smile again. Then she headed back toward the door.

This post has been edited by Grits: Jun 16 2011, 12:18 AM

[D.Foxy]

First of all... your talent for characterization through dialogue just keeps growing and growing, Grits, just like my -



- er - er -

...err.... regard for your abilities! (Foxy promises an interlude full of pain to his inner pervert after finishing this post)

Just listen to these jewels:

She blinked and twisted her lips into her half-smile. “Well, it seems you don’t carry all of your brains in your trousers. The ruin above ground is some distance from here, you’re right. I can’t confirm that this sewer connects to the chambers underground there. But I believe it was part of the same city.”

and this:

“Like a pack of blind snow bears.” Her tone relayed her disgust.

and, of course, T.H.I.S...

“Only because you didn’t think you could stop him,” Lildereth said to Darnand. “It’s hard to believe you’ve never used a spell to paralyze him. He’s tempted me, and I’ve only known him a few days.”

Jerric was speechless. Apparently so was Darnand.

“Well, when you do it,” she continued in a conversational tone, “Make sure you let him breathe before you hit him with it a second time.”

Beware, beware, Lildereth....don't you know that one of the first signs of passion in a woman for a man is when she is tempted to bonk him one over the head because he won't do as she says? Ask Athynae!

Oh, and Lildee girl...you know all that talk you keep spouting about Jerric's meat and trousers? Ahem. Cough cough...Freudian Slips...the subconcious is usually way ahead of the concious and all, you know...cough cough...

Yes... all that dialogue makes us see Lildereth so well.

Jerric, too, comes across more and more 'Jerric' - big, clumsy, hungry, horny, honest, humble, happy-go-lucky and helluvivaciously handsome in a humonguously hunky, ham-handed, hirsuite, honey-sweet way - HOO boy! I bet there be puh-lentee of wimmins feeling a warm buzz in thar-all New Mexico regions after reading about yer hero!

And now, the finale:

Jerric realized. He grinned at her. “I’m not worried. I know you won’t leave my sword lying here in the dark.”

Yep, Jerric has realized all right. Time to take the sword out of the trousers - er er err scabbbard! I meant scabbard! (How the hell did you get out? Just you wait!!!) so that it can get out of the dark...

[haute ecole rider]

I have to admit that I'm liking Lildereth more and more. The way she handles Jerric is awesome! Just enough to keep him off balance, but not so much to reduce him to a blabbering pile of self-pitying tears. And of course, his Macho is acting up in response, and he resolves (likely subconsciously) to do better so he can raise her esteem of him. Excellent!

I seem to get the sense that Darnand is rather oblivious to all of this, though he does make an effort to demonstrate his loyalty to Jerric, albeit belatedly.

[mALX]

This note is copied and pasted on everyone whose story I am having to neglect for a few days - mainly because my eyes are burning too badly to keep looking at the screen :


"I'll be back!" (spoken in an Arnold voice). I haven't had time to read this week - way too much going on, my week has been hectic as H !! When I have gotten any free time my eyes and mind were burned out, lol. I'll be back to read this when I get a bit of a break in the rat-race pace around here. (sorry about that )

[Ceidwad]

“All right,” Jerric said. He felt ill at ease in the dark, but less than he would have thought. “How did I sound back there?” he asked Lildereth.

“Like a pack of blind snow bears.” Her tone relayed her disgust.

“I’m not wearing real armor,” Jerric objected. He thought he had sounded rather stealthy.

Pfft. What does a Bosmer know about being a Nord? Nice comparison of how two individuals can view the same event entirely differently.

Her eyes looked oddly pale to Jerric in his potion’s light. He decided that Lildereth appeared calm and alert. Darnand seemed excited and a little nervous. Jerric tested his own emotional state. He felt slightly worried.

I love how Jerric has to stop and think about how he feels! That is one slow-thinking Jerric!

[mALX]

Jerric leaned against the dining hall’s door frame, waiting for Darnand to finish speaking with Abiene. The two of them stood with their heads bent slightly together. Both of them had their arms crossed over their chests. Darnand wore the intent expression that usually indicated he was deeply involved in his work, and an excellent target for a prank. Abiene’s pink cheeks and sweet mouth filled Jerric’s mind with a rush of distracting images. He wrenched his attention back with an effort.

They make a handsome couple, he noticed. Both of them dark-haired and elegant. They even sound good together. Their voices rose and fell in the lilting cadence that he associated with Bretons. They mostly sound that way when they’re talking to each other, he realized.

Darnand turned and started toward him, and Abiene looked over at Jerric behind his back. Her dark eyes seemed to fill with promise.

This scene was a paradox! Candid glimpses into thoughts and actions, the parties involved unaware (Darnand mostly). Subtly simple scene - but huge in the complexity of the relationships between the three. HUGE scene you wrote here, AWESOME !!!!

“How did I sound back there?” he asked Lildereth.

“Like a pack of blind snow bears.” Her tone relayed her disgust.

ROFL !!!

Lildereth's instructions on sneaking to the two of them had me in stitches!

"Get away from the door. We might as well knock if you two are going to stand out here arguing.”

ROFL !! Lildereth is a perfect addition to this story, and is bringing out the best examples of why I love the way Jerric and Darnand play off each other when they are together. When Abiene is the third party the boyish comaraderie between them is stifled by the intrigue of secrets and desires.

It is amazing how complex you have made your characters, and how real their personalities are! This chapter really showcases your talent and ability, Awesome !!! This may be my all time favorite chapter to date, and it has had some very tough competition for that position!!

[Acadian]

'Lildereth turned inland before he even wanted a snack.'
No one else but Jerric could measure time in terms of food. It is testimony to how vividly you bring him to us that such a comment seems as natural as eating a sweet roll.

'Lildereth’s expression informed him how he sounded.'
Once again, I'm so impressed by how beautifully you weave your connective passages into your dialogue.

Lildereth thinks so very much like, well, a Bosmer! Working in the shadows is so second nature to her. How wonderfully you bring each of your characters to life. Each in their own way in this episode, but it was a joy to see Abiene, Darnand, Lildereth and of course our lovable Nordic hero (the blind snow bear/big man himself).

Nit? 'The dressed stone surround appeared to be intact, but the ground had fallen or washed away under it. '
Something seems to be missing here? Perhaps '…surrounding the entrance appeared to be…' ?

[SubRosa]

Meat’s not ready yet!
Well given Lildreth's earlier comment, I think Jerric can provide that...

Nice display of professionalism on the parts of Lildreth and Darnand. Jerric seems to still have a bit to be desired there. But at least he knows it. What a stark, and welcome, contrast to the game, where the only strategy you need is walk here, kill that, repeat.

Lildreth is about as friendly as a badger having a bad day. I wonder if she is always so abrasive, of if it is just the thought of her getting killed because Jerric and Darnand are not stealthy enough? I suppose only time will tell.