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

[Grits]

ghastley: New quest: Recruit Mage for Gweden. I was rolling at Milanu’s notes! Jerric’s joke about a potion got cut from this story, but there’s a minotaur line coming up in a few episodes.

haute ecole rider: No worries, just some light sensation play. Abiene is no Sontaire! I can imagine Rhano explaining to Azzan how he let his student get eaten by a daedroth.

mALX: I’m glad you like the training, I think they wouldn’t automatically know how to deal with new things. Darnand may have experience summoning a daedroth, but he’s only seen one fight once before. They all have to branch out from what they know. We’ll see more Jerric and Rhano before the holidays are over, or at least we’ll hear about it.

Acadian: Thank you, I changed those first lines. The moment you pointed out in the training session is my favorite. Jerric is not above clowning a little if the situation calls for it.

Ceidwad: That training scene saw more re-writes than the Battle for Kvatch. Whew! I’m glad it seemed to work.

treydog: I am honored, humbled, and astonished by your comments. Most of all, I’m inspired to keep learning. Several of the passages you quoted were starting points for their whole sections, and I remember how clear everything seemed when I was writing them. It makes me go back and look at what I’ve just written a little harder, checking for the muddy parts. It seems that each time I learn something new, the old lessons slip a little. I appreciate your comments so much!

King Coin: Hey, a Nord’s gotta eat! Just writing about zombies makes my stomach turn. I get that rotten smell in my mind, like it’s on my tongue. I probably should clean out the fridge more often. I love that Aravi kept Captain Renault’s short sword. Jerric still has the goblin mortar and pestle, too. Though now he uses it to grind his kahve beans.

SubRosa: Good point about dispel. I expect their tactics will continue to evolve, especially as Jerric makes some more mistakes and gets some more powerful spells. Thank you for recognizing that salute to Acadian’s words: There are old pilots and there are bold pilots, but there are no old bold pilots. Jerric’s recklessness was an asset at his old job, but his friends would like to see him get through more than just one more Gate.

Where we are: Remember Maeva the Buxom? Jerric, Darnand, and Lildereth finally have. They’re on the way to Fort Strand to deal with Bjalfi the Contemptible.


Chapter 11 Holidays: Part 10

Jerric, Darnand, and Lildereth walked along the South Peak Road in the pre-dawn chill. The Anvil city wall loomed up on their right, and the grassy hillside rose to the left. Jerric had been using this route for exercise since he grew large enough to pose a hazard to the public by running inside the city. The stars gave him enough light to keep up the pace.

Occasional glints of pale blue told him when his companions renewed their sight spells. Lildereth wore his life detection ring. He had discovered that his comrades’ nearby healthy glows spoiled his night vision. Life detection magic has tremendous value but some limitations, he decided. He was glad he hadn’t used the sigil stone to place that charm on his boots.

Jerric’s and Darnand’s feet crunched in the road grit. Lildereth would seem as some silent spirit between them, except for the fog of her breath. Jerric couldn’t tell if her reticence was a symptom of tension or the early hour. He knew that Darnand was feeling some nerves, and they were still a fair distance away from where they would cut left up the Fort Strand Road. Jerric decided to lighten the mood with a story.

“So a bear is squatting in the woods,” he began. “He looks down and notices a tree rat beside him, doing the same. ‘Excuse me, Mister Tree Rat,’ says the bear. ‘Do you find that dreck sticks to your fur?’ ‘Why yes, Mister Bear,’ says the tree rat. ‘It is troublesome. What is your method of resolving this problem?’ ‘Allow me to demonstrate,’ says the bear. So the bear picks up the tree rat and wipes his rear with it.”

Jerric glanced down at Lildereth to gauge her reaction. He hoped she wouldn’t chastise him for talking.

The wood elf kept her face forward as she walked. After a moment, she spoke. “You know that Cyrodiil has black bears and brown bears, and the deserts have sun bears. Even the far north has snow bears. But have you ever heard of a golden bear?”

Lildereth’s tone was light, so Jerric guessed he hadn’t offended her. He shook his head.

“This tale might explain events,” she said. “There was a time when golden bears were common throughout the forest. They were the biggest and strongest of all the bears. Some say they were the bravest, and some say not the brightest. But this is known: golden bears were the loudest, and the most flatulent.”

Jerric got an idea where this story was going.

“One fine day a golden bear was walking through his woodland home with his associate, the tree rat. They came upon a small statue of a hound, hidden almost entirely under the leaf litter. They picked the statue up and brushed it off. To their amazement, it spoke.

“‘Well met,’ said the statue. ‘I’m Barbas, the Hound of Clavicus Vile. Some silly adventurer dropped me from his pack, and I’ve been lost for ages. In the name of my Master, I will grant you each three wishes.’

“Well, the golden bear was an impulsive creature, so he went first. ‘I wish that the attractive lady bear in the cave next door had an uncontrollable desire for me,’ he growled. In a twinkle, it was done.”

Jerric and Darnand shared a glance over Lildereth’s head as they walked. Darnand was already silently laughing at him.

“The tree rat wished for an oak tree all of her own, but big enough to share with generations of tree rats,” Lildereth continued. “‘A tree?’ scoffed the golden bear. ‘Foolish tree rat. You live in the forest! You could have anything in the realm, and you wished for another tree.’

“The golden bear already had his second wish ready. He was after all a virile bear, with some would say an excess of energy. His next wish was for all of the female golden bears in the forest to be as attractive as his neighbor, and all madly in love with him. In a twinkle, it was done.

“The tree rat’s second wish was also about her tree. She wished for it to be enchanted so that it stayed in leaf all year, providing shelter and an endless supply of acorns.

“Again the golden bear mocked her, but he was anxious to receive his third wish. He had decided that he had underestimated his needs. ‘I want every other golden bear in the forest to be female, wildly attractive, and madly in love with me,’ he rumbled in his golden bear voice. In a twinkle it was done.”

Jerric realized that the golden bear had a familiar yet somewhat unusual combination of West Weald accent and Gold Coast drawl.

“Barbas turned his attention to the tree rat,” Lildereth said. “‘What would you like me to grant you for your final wish?’ he asked.

“After some consideration, the tree rat answered. “‘I wish this golden bear preferred the company of snow bears.’ And with that, she scampered up her tree.”

After a few steps, Lildereth stopped and looked back at them where they stood laughing. Darnand wiped his eyes and shook his head at Jerric. He stepped to the side of the path to relieve himself. Jerric took the opportunity to do the same. He resolved never to cross Lildereth.

“Your turn,” Jerric said to him. The next moments were critical. Would the Breton ally himself with the bear or the tree rat? Darnand’s loyalty was beyond question, but Lildereth had his sense of self-preservation in her favor.

Darnand looked thoughtful for a moment, gazing up at the sky. “What is a balanced diet for a bear?” he finally asked. He completed his shake and tuck before he answered himself. “A tree rat in each paw.”

Jerric shot a triumphant look at Lildereth where she waited, judiciously uphill. “On the way back I’ll tell you the tale of the bear and the stag,” she offered.

Jerric snorted with amusement. Darnand did possess a certain nobility of carriage. Usually, Jerric amended in his mind. When he’s not hunched over fixing his trousers.

They kept quiet on the Fort Strand Road. The crepuscular light told Jerric that they had timed their approach perfectly. Hopefully the marauders would still be in their bedrolls. Or at least still unarmored.

The fort’s exterior consisted of only a half-circle of crumbling tower wall, completely open to the sky. One functioning door led to the subterranean levels, dug into the hillside behind the fort. Broken pillars cluttered the space inside the ruin, but the open ground had been cleared of loose rubble. Jerric guessed that the old stones now sheltered many local farming families, having been repurposed over the years by those with the means to haul them. He silently thanked Lildereth for her insistence on thoroughly surveying the terrain as well as the force that dwelt inside the ruin. Jerric’s method of charging in and letting the targets reveal themselves by attacking him was not a good plan in this instance, he admitted to himself. Not without open ground and a team of archers to thin out the crowd.

Lildereth gave Jerric his ring back as they approached the ruin. He could see firelight, and he knew that a brazier stood to the left of the door. Two sentries huddled next to it, their positions exposed by their faint glows. Another, smaller glow stood alert by one of the ruined pillars. Lildereth signaled a stop, and the three of them crouched where a low wall would keep them out of sight. They made their final preparations.

“Dammit!” Jerric whispered. “The dog is out front. I hope I don’t have to kill it.” He rubbed his hands through his hair.

“You won’t.” Lildereth pointed to herself. “Bosmer. Shouldn’t you be wearing your helm?”

Jerric unhooked his helmet and put it on. He drank his first shield potion before she could remind him. “Anything else?”

“Your fly is open,” Lildereth said without looking.

Jerric checked, but it was laced. He glanced over at Darnand. His friend looked tense and still. “Ready for this?” Jerric asked him.

“I am uncertain,” Darnand replied quietly. “Perhaps we should remain here and converse until they wander over and kill us.”

Lildereth’s glance encompassed both of them. “I’m first. Stay put until I signal.”

Before Jerric could speak, she was gone. He watched her pink glow as she made her way around the side of the ruin to an open archway. Jerric made himself stay still and wait. He rose and stepped forward when she signaled, stuffing his ring back into his pocket.

A Redguard and a Nord, Jerric saw as he approached. Both held blankets wrapped around them, and the Redguard wore some kind of fur hat. Jerric held his shield on his arm, but down at his side. His right hand was empty.

The dog gave a single warning bark, but it didn’t move forward. Chained to the pillar, Jerric noted. The two guards stepped away from the wall, shrugging out of the blankets. “You there, halt!” shouted the Redguard. Jerric heard swords grind free of their scabbards.

This is the part where I hail them, Jerric thought. Fetch it. There’s just going to be a fight.

He quickened his steps as he moved into the tower space. His magicka rent the air near the Redguard in a sinister looking swirl, and his will summoned Slim through it. Lildereth is going to be peeved, he thought. Then his mind leaped into the fight.

“Drop to your belly if you want to live,” Jerric called out. A blast of frost from his shield hand distracted the Redguard as he spoke, giving Slim the first strike with his axe. Jerric’s eyes swept over the ground as he drew his sword. Packed dirt with tufts of grass, no rocks. Just like he saw days before from the hillside above.

The Nord wore iron plate, cuirass and greaves. Leather showed through the joints. Longsword, no shield. The Redguard’s grunts and steel ringing on Slim’s axe told Jerric all he needed to know about that fight.

The Nord brought his sword up into a high guard, the point aiming low toward Jerric’s face. At that angle it was difficult for Jerric to judge the distance. Jerric bought Redeemer into a middle guard behind his shield, ready for the Nord’s downward thrust. He circled away from the tufts of grass, keeping his weight centered on the balls of his feet.

Fire hurtled past him, into the Nord’s chest. The Nord howled, startled into making his strike. Jerric slid to the side, raising his Wolf. The Nord’s sword rebounded off his shield with a white flash but little impact. Jerric thrust at the Nord’s groin, braced for a jolt from the man’s Woad. Redeemer sank in without resistance. Magicka welled inside Jerric, filling the empty space left in Slim’s wake.

The Nord fell back shrieking, his sword point dropping away toward the ground. Jerric brought his shield into position with the forward edge toward the staggering Nord, checking his sword. He hooked the guard’s foot, tripping him onto his back. A glance at the Redguard showed that she was down. Jerric finished the Nord with a thrust through the throat. When he looked more closely at the Redguard, he saw that an arrow protruded from her neck.

Lildereth appeared in front of Jerric. She looked upset.

“That was not what we planned,” she fumed. “I couldn’t get another shot with you jumping around. I’ve half a mind to call this off, if you can’t control yourself. I have no intention of going in there and getting killed. I could have shot them down before they moved, or cast a spell, there didn’t need to be a fight. You reckless, impulsive—”

“I know,” Jerric said evenly. “I think we should kill them all, no warning. I know it’s not honorable, and I wouldn’t blame you if you decided not to go in.” He glanced up to find Darnand beside him, impassive. Jerric knew Darnand was disappointed, but still with him. He thinks I deliberately left him behind, Jerric realized.

“I’ve seen too many folk torn apart and left along the road like garbage,” Jerric explained. “I should have thought it through before, you’re right. But I guess I don’t intend to give these fetchers any more chances.”

Lildereth seemed to swallow her anger. “Bjalfi?” she asked. Under control again, now her expression was unreadable.

“Well, I’ll know him when I pick the mace up off his body. Maeva can mourn him if she likes. But we’re here to get Rockshatter back. Taking down this gang is just a benefit. Let’s kill them all.”

Lildereth regarded him for a long moment. “We’ll need to go in quiet, like we planned. It will be easier your way, we don’t have to ask questions.” She gave each of them a hard look. “I’ve seen folk held captive in situations like this. Be ready for any kind of perversion once we get in there. We’ll take them all down, then free any prisoners.” Now her hard look was just for Jerric. “When you killed them, you kept your head. That’s the only reason I can trust you.”

Jerric nodded. “I really just got the one.” He looked down at the dog, now standing in their circle next to Lildereth. Darnand must have unchained it, he thought. “How long will your spell keep him quiet?”

“Her. I didn’t need my spell.” Lildereth reached up and ruffled the dog’s droopy ears. Her shaggy head was level with the Bosmer’s chest. The dog’s long jaw dropped open at Lildereth’s caress. Dog breath steamed into the morning. “This is no guard dog, she just barks when someone comes near. She doesn’t seem to have any love for her dead masters. I wonder where they got her.”

Darnand raised an eyebrow. “A mystery to be contemplated at leisure, perhaps tonight beside the fire.”

Jerric saw Darnand looking between the wheat-colored dog and himself. He seemed mildly amused. “Yeah?” Jerric asked.

“I believe you two share a barber,” Darnand told him.

“Right,” said Lildereth. “Nine more marauders. Let’s get to work.”

This post has been edited by Grits: Jul 19 2011, 01:36 AM

[ghastley]

How long have you been waiting to use the word "crepuscular'?

[haute ecole rider]

Good fight here - and Jerric's decision to just wade in and kill both of them is understandable. One thing I've noticed playing games of this kind - bandits/pirates are just common folk, but Marauders (always capitalized) are an evil breed, not worth any kind of mercy. As I remember correctly, the folk in Fort Strand are Marauders. The way I like to see it, bandits/pirates are forced into banditry/piracy due to lack of gainful employment, while Marauders seek this kind of lifestyle because of their unpleasant natures.

I point this out because I recall Jerric being friends with the folk at Gnoll's Meeting Camp (or some other bandit camp along the Gold Road) earlier in the story.

[Acadian]

The running bear and rat jokes were wonderful! After Lildereth tells about the stag and bear, perhaps Jerric could regale them with the story of moose and squirrel.

'Jerric thrust at the Nord’s groin, braced for a jolt from the man’s Woad. Redeemer sank in without resistance. Magicka welled inside Jerric, filling the empty space left in Slim’s wake.'
Gosh, another stunning Grits display of magic with words. From the reminder of a Nord's Woad, to reveiewing Jerric's Atronach birthsign. The last sentence was so very perfect!

I identify so strongly with what Lildereth must have been doing/thinking during the fight that I found myself sharing her fury at Jerric. No doubt she could have silently dispatched both guards and still saved the dog. In fairness, Jerric acted completely in accordance with his nature - that is why he is the Hero of Kvatch.

[mALX]

I can't find a single passage to quote without encapsulating the entire chapter! From the humor to the interaction, the accompanying descriptions of gestures and action, the combat ... All amazing !!! Your dialogue is always outstanding, but this chapter is a showcase to your ability - absolutely AWESOME Write !!!!!

[Thomas Kaira]

All caught up yet again. It appears I have fallen into the bad habit of reading your story in bursts, and then putting things off until you are ten segments ahead of me. I really need to address that.

Anyways, a mighty fun start to our latest (mis?)adventure with my new favorite D&D adventuring party. We have Jerric, the happy-go-lucky warrior who knows how to kill and, interestingly, make potions. We have the mage, who can dual-cast and perhaps open an Oblivion Gate if he tried hard enough, and finally the wisecracking, smart-alec rogue who never fails to entertain. These three have barely done any real adventuring together, and already they are inseparable!

I look forward to what happens inside the Fort. Something tells me that things are likely to go pear-shaped, but time will tell, and whatever the outcome (save one of the trio dying) I will thoroughly enjoy it.

[SubRosa]

What do you have to do get the nickname "the Contemptible" anyway?

Jerric had been using this route for exercise since he grew large enough to pose a hazard to the public by running inside the city.
This gave me a good smile!

Jerric’s method of charging in and letting the targets reveal themselves by attacking him was not a good plan in this instance, he admitted to himself.
But it always works in the game!

Jerric's contempt for the outlaws is quite understandable, given his profession. I cannot say I blame him, or would be inclined to show any quarter either. Just like a certain stringy wood elf and skooma dealers.

[Grits]

ghastley: Since fifth grade. Now that I’ve used it, I can banish it forever!! Next up: “vituperative.”

haute ecole rider: The inhabitants of Gnoll’s Meeting Camp aren’t bandits any more in the story, but most do have a shady or violent history. Jerric told the story to Velwyn about how some of them joined forces and drove out the bandits so that they could convert the camp to a legitimate stopover for travelers. Not giving the guards a real chance to surrender does represent a change for Jerric, and I’m glad you pointed it out. He doesn’t know how to act like his heroes from the storybooks and still get the job done.

The way I see bandits vs. marauders for the story is similar to what you describe. Bandits are generally more opportunistic predators along the roads living in camps, while marauders are organized gangs with a fortified base of operations somewhere. Jerric would have experience with both from his caravan guard job, and no tolerance for either. He even feels some kinship with them based on their common skills and his expectation that he will also meet a violent end. That ends up making him more judgmental of their choices, since anyone with the skills to be a bandit also has the skills to protect people. Of course, bandits can do whatever they want when they’re not out robbing and killing, but guards have to show up for work even when they’re suffering from a near-fatal hangover. In Jerric’s Cyrodiil there is a lot of opportunity for people to make a living, but it’s hard to save up and get ahead. Thank you for your encouragement, haute! And may I say, you have really raised the bar for fight scenes!! Julian’s battle in Sancre Tor is so inspiring.

Acadian: I am delighted that you felt Lildereth’s frustration so clearly. You nailed it, Jerric was doing what he does, which is not always what the situation calls for. This will not be the last time he infuriates Lildereth, I’m afraid! The line you quoted was the one I was waiting for to finish this episode. No matter how hectic RL is, the piece of advice I can remember is to wait until it sings to me. Thank you, Acadian!

mALX: Thank you, mALX!! For some reason this Fort Strand quest has been difficult going. Maybe because I know what comes next. Your kind words mean so much!

Thomas Kaira: Take your time, we’ll be here when you get to us. I’m glad you’re still enjoying the story. These three have fun chemistry; I’ve enjoyed writing about them. Oblivion can be a little lonely as a game. As far as pear-shaped, well, you’ll see in a minute.

SubRosa: Exactly. When he doesn’t have time to connect with the person, Jerric doesn’t have any conflict. Otherwise his empathy can cloud the issue.

Where we are: Jerric, Darnand, and Lildereth are heading into Fort Strand.



Chapter 11 Holidays: Part 11


Jerric stepped into the tunnel that would lead them under Fort Strand. It was as the Fighters Guild map had shown, a long corridor dropping through darkness with a glint of firelight at the end. A single distant glow showed a sentry patrolling where the tunnel split into right angles. Jerric drank his night eye potion, and the stone passage jumped into blue clarity around him. Clean paving stones underfoot, he noticed. Rubble cleared to the sides. He slipped off his life detection ring so he could see Lildereth’s signals. Ring on, ring off, ring on again. This could get annoying.

Lildereth signaled that they should proceed as planned. Jerric took her vigorous eyebrow motions to mean that she saw him take off his ring. Dammit, he thought as he slipped it back on. She’s still mad at me.

They moved quietly down the passage, freezing against the walls as the sentry moved by the opening. Lildereth oiled the hinges when they came to a rusty gate. They waited until the guard reached the end of the cross passage before they opened it.

Lildereth and Jerric got into position after the sentry passed the intersection again. An Orsimer in steel plate, Jerric saw. Lildereth greeted her with a poisoned arrow when she returned, and Jerric jumped to catch her as she fell paralyzed. He broke her thick neck before they carried her back into the shadows. His sight potion fought with the firelight coming from small pyres along the cross passage, and Lildereth and Darnand’s glows nearly blinded him. Jerric rubbed his eyes, his stomach churning. Another reason to learn the spell, he thought. Then I could get rid of it.

Darnand stayed at the intersection to guard the exit, and Jerric and Lildereth split off in opposite directions. Jerric took the passage to the right, oiling the hinges when he came to a closed door. He knew that a rectangular chamber should lie beyond it, approximately ten paces by fifteen. One life sign glowed motionless, probably lying on the floor. Two columns had been marked on the map, and the chamber should have a low, level ceiling. Lildereth had taken the path where hidden corners and traps would be more likely. Jerric could see dim light around the door, so he saved his sight potions.

The door eased opened quietly, and Jerric thanked the careful hands who kept it maintained. When he saw the bedrolls along the floor he realized it was for their own convenience. This was a sleeping chamber. A fire burned low in a metal brazier, more split wood stacked beside it. Smoke hung near the ceiling. Weapons racks and chests stood along the walls. Most of the racks were empty. One bedroll was occupied.

Jerric stepped into the chamber and eyed the sleeping figure. An Altmeri female. Her armor and sword stood arranged against the wall at the foot of her bedroll, next to a locked chest. Kill her quietly, Jerric thought. Another life sign glowed some distance away, through how many doors and chambers he couldn’t tell. Sound carries oddly underground, Lildereth had told them. Sometimes there are voids in the rock behind walls that you don’t know about. Assume they might hear you. No one must raise an alarm while the three of them were separated.

Redeemer whispered into Jerric’s hand. He thought about the centuries to come that this mer should see after he had gone to dust. I’m taking all of that away, he thought, all of the evil she might do as well as any reparation. Tension coiled in his legs. He wanted to kick her sword within her reach.

Why am I hesitating, Jerric wondered. I won’t trade this mer’s life for my friends.’

It’s not just her life that I’m ending, he finally realized. It’s the hope that I might become what Martin already thinks of me. This strike makes me a murderer. I told Jauffre I don’t have any honor, and now I’m going to make it true.

Jerric stepped around the fire, careful not to let his shadow fall across the sleeping mer. One stroke ended her life. Magicka flooded in through his sword arm in a welcome rush. He thought that shame would follow, but instead he felt its curious absence.

Another chamber lay adjacent to the sleeping space, trapped with swinging metal balls connected to pressure plates. Firelight illuminated the room, showing him the plates as well as two rats sniffing along the wall. Their final squeaks did not seem to alert the glow making its way through the corridors beyond this chamber. The wooden door stood open, so Jerric saw the glow become a Nord when the man turned the corner. The marauder was unarmored, but he carried a sword across his back.

Jerric sprinted across the chamber, casting a ball of fire at the Nord. He prepared to tackle him if he turned to run back down the corridor. Jerric’s fire spilled across his shoulder as the marauder drew his sword. He met Jerric’s charge with a curse.

Jerric dodged the swipe across his middle, hoping to prevent the telltale ringing of steel from alerting the rest of the gang. The Nord’s movements showed the fire’s damage to his shoulder. Jerric whipped Redeemer’s tip through his throat and lunged forward as the man fell gurgling, catching the sword before it could sound against the floor.

More stones than sense, Jerric thought, watching him die. Charging in like I would have done when he should have sounded the alarm. Hopefully he just cost his friends their lives.

Moments later Jerric reached the door that Sten had described to him. It would swing away from Jerric, and the hinges were on the other side. No life signs glowed behind it, but he left it closed. A dark passageway opened off to his right, leading to a natural cave and pit system according to the map. Dust and cobwebs showed it to be unused, as Lildereth had suspected. Probably the source of the rats, Jerric decided. He returned to Darnand at a run, staying aware of his boot heels, as Lildereth would say.

The smell of burned hair greeted him as he turned into the final corridor. Its author lay smoking near Darnand, a large, charred rat.

“You made me a snack,” said Jerric.

“It came from Lildereth’s direction,” Darnand told him. “I suppose she decided I could handle it.”

“At least it wasn’t a dog.” She probably didn’t want to give her position away by fighting it, Jerric thought. Lildereth rounded the corner at an easy trot before worry could take hold.

She held up two fingers, then made the sign that she had killed them.

Jerric and Darnand shared a guilty glance for talking. Jerric gave his death tally with the appropriate gestures, then indicated that he hadn’t seen anyone else. Lildereth signaled that four mortals were behind the door she had investigated. The men gave her a nod, and she led them down the left passageway.

Fort Strand’s underground sections contained twists and changes in level as well as cave-like areas, but proceeded in a generally linear fashion. Jerric did not bother to remember the turns, as there was really only one way to keep going. Lildereth’s coaching had made things clear in his mind. Forget about the air, these places were made with ventilation. Forget about the turns, unless you have a choice to make. Keep one sight potion in case you have to run. He couldn’t picture doing that last part.

Steps, gates, and a trapped chamber brought them to the final door. Recent death hung in the air, along with the smell of breakfast. Two bodies slumped near an arrangement of tables and an open cook fire. Jerric wondered if the gang had plans for the day that got them up this early.

A foul stench trickled in from a rough tunnel off to the right. They had passed soiled bedrolls under shackles chained to the walls. Jerric guessed that their former occupants now rotted down that tunnel.

Four life signs glowed behind the door, one oddly higher than the others. Lildereth made her signals, and Jerric nodded. Sneaking around the other way could result in them getting trapped in the ruin. Better to use surprise to their advantage. Jerric’s skin tingled, ready for a fight.

Lildereth nocked an arrow and disappeared. Jerric drew in a breath and summoned Precious out of the Void. Darnand threw the door open. Jerric charged in, his scamp at his heels. He heard the air rip and knew that Darnand had summoned something behind him. He hoped to the gods it wasn’t a daedroth.

Jerric found himself in a high ceilinged, rectangular chamber about twenty paces long and ten wide. Stone stairs led up to balcony along the near short wall. A Dunmer stood there, reaching for something. The chamber had three exits, but the remaining three marauders were not leaving. An Altmer, an Orsimer, and a Nord. All of them were armored, two carried swords. The Nord carried a Dwemer mace.

Jerric’s frost whipped toward the Altmer, and he had Redeemer in his hand before it hit. The Orsimer doubled over as an arrow sprouted from his groin. Lildereth flared into view, and the orc fell with an arrow in his neck. Jerric felt a surge of magicka. His eyes met the Nord’s. Bjalfi, he thought. The Nord drew his mace with a flicker of white magicka, staying in place. Jerric could hear Darnand’s shock spell by his side, crackling up at the Dunmer. Darnand’s fire atronach leapt across him, chasing Darnand’s spell with her fire. Jerric’s scamp pounced on the fallen orc. Jerric sent another ball of frost at the staggering Altmer. Then green fog filled his vision, and he shook his head to clear it.

His enemy was right next to him. Jerric heard his own growl as he reached for the Breton’s neck. Contempt filled him at the startled look on the man’s face. He called his Nordic Frost, sending it into the Breton as soon as his hand closed over the puny throat. The Breton sagged in his grip, his own frosted hands coming up to tug at Jerric’s arm. Jerric swore and dropped his sword. This close, he wanted his dagger. He would watch the light leave his enemy’s eyes.

Darkness claimed him again. Jerric’s mind cleared slowly, like water washing away blood in a stream.

He lay face down on a stone floor, his shield arm under him. His right hand was empty. A man shouted behind him. Jerric rolled over in time to block a mace on his shield, the force of the strike driving his shield down to his chest. Shock energy crackled around him, deflected away. Bjalfi raised the mace again. Oh skitt, Jerric thought. Shock damage and weakness to shock.

Darnand lunged up from the side, grabbing the Nord around his waist. Magicka flared around them in a way that Jerric thought must be an absence of light. Bjalfi fell to his knees, screaming. Darnand rode him down to the floor. By the time the awful sound stopped, Lildereth had an arrow pointed at Jerric’s throat. Her lips made a tight line, but her eyes were wild.

“What the fetch,” Jerric said weakly, trying not to move. He realized that his back hurt. So did his leg.

“Is that you?” Lildereth demanded over her arrow point. She seemed to think she was making sense.

“He has returned,” Darnand said, hauling himself to his knees. Ice glittered over his face, arms, and chest. His labored breathing sent fear racing through Jerric.

“Heal him,” Jerric said to Lildereth, eyes back on the arrow. “Stick me with your pin first if you have to, but get on with it.”

Lildereth lowered her bow. “I can’t.”

Jerric pulled his shield off and crawled over Bjalfi. Darnand sat with his back against the stairs. Blood trickled from the corners of his eyes. White light began to swirl around him. “See to your shoulder,” Darnand told him. “I would not refuse a potion, Lildereth.”

Jerric kept his mind on the healing, both his and Darnand’s. The realization slowly broke over him that his frost had done this.

“The Dunmer got us both,” Darnand said. He spit a little blood onto his chest. “Shock spell. Mother-humping battlemages.”

“I thought the Altmer would be the spell slinger,” said Jerric. He didn’t remark on Darnand’s uncharacteristic word choice.

“As did I,” said Lildereth. “You had the Altmer and the Nord, so I went for the orc. Darnand had the Dunmer.”

“What was it?” Jerric asked. “A command spell?”

Darnand nodded, fumbling for his water skin. “I tried to dispel it, but you absorbed my spell.”

Jerric realized that his thigh still burned. He stared down at the shaft of a broken arrow in disbelief. Lildereth stood over him with her slender knife. “You shot me?” he demanded.

“I paralyzed you. Bjalfi did the rest.” Lildereth worked her blade into Jerric’s leg, tugging on the arrow head. He concentrated on not pissing himself. “You’re lucky I still had a knockdown arrow ready. Otherwise I wouldn’t have gone for your leg.”

“Well,” Jerric said after a moment, “at least they’re not sitting around talking about us.”

This post has been edited by Grits: Jul 15 2012, 03:22 PM

[mALX]

Holy Crap !!! This chapter had me riveted from beginning to end !!! I didn't take a breath till Jerric's last line !!! Jerric's inner thoughts ruled this chapter and led it through one of the most powerful battles scenes I've ever read !!!


This was AWESOME :

Redeemer whispered into Jerric’s hand. He thought about the centuries to come that this mer should see after he had gone to dust. I’m taking all of that away, he thought, all of the evil she might do as well as any reparation. Tension coiled in his legs. He wanted to kick her sword within her reach.

Why am I hesitating, Jerric wondered. I won’t trade this mer’s life for my friends.’

It’s not just her life that I’m ending, he finally realized. It’s the hope that I might become what Martin already thinks of me. This strike makes me a murderer. I told Jauffre I don’t have any honor, and now I’m going to make it true.

Jerric stepped around the fire, careful not to let his shadow fall across the sleeping mer. One stroke ended her life. Magicka flooded in through his sword arm in a welcome rush. He thought that shame would follow, but instead he felt its curious absence.

The end, the realization that Jerric had been hit by a command spell and turned on his own friends in there - HUGE !!! I am speechless, gobbling like a turkey ... and humbly bow down to the master Grits !!!!!!!!!!!!!! AWESOME WRITE !!!!!

[Acadian]

And down to business in Fort Strand!

'Ring on, ring off, ring on again. This could get annoying.'
Ask Lildereth. I'm sure she'll tell Jerric that you get used to it when seeing those pink glows keeps you alive.

'Lildereth oiled the hinges when they came to a rusty gate.'
This is a beautiful tiny touch that shows the author has clearly walked the details of the scene carefully through in her agile mind.

Jerric's hesitation at killing the sleeping mer speaks volumes to his nature. He is used to declaring himself then smiting his foes honorably. Again, Lildereth could tell him much about the requirement for less sturdy fighters to make hard, preemptive choices. Well done!

'More stones than sense, Jerric thought, watching him die. Charging in like I would have done when he should have sounded the alarm.'
Must be ex-Fighters Guild with those stones! I love how Jerric pokes fun at himself here.

'Keep one sight potion in case you have to run. He couldn’t picture doing that last part.'
Again, Jerric shows the heroic stuff that makes him Jerric.

The concept of Jerric being turned by a command spell was brilliant. For what it is worth, it did not click for me at all until Jerric and Darnand spelled it all out at the end. That is, as it was happening, I was lost, wondering if you had made a mistake about a 'Breton'. I stopped and recounted the races you listed initially, then scratched my head in confusion until it became clear. Then I went back and reread it and it made sense. I guess I'm saying that it went over my simple head on the first read. The clues you gave were simply too subtle for me. I don't know if that is just me or not - I readily admit that I am a simple reader and require Mrs Acadian to tell me who did it even after a murder mystery show is complete. Let me repeat though, that the concept of our hero being turned by a command spell is absolutely inspired - both in its cleverness and terror. Wow!

[haute ecole rider]

Whoa! For a moment I thought Jerric had PTSD! Flashback time, ya know? For all I know, maybe that's exactly what a command spell does! In that case, how would it affect someone who's never fought for his/her life in the past? Scary stuff, that. I admit I had the same moment of confusion as Acadian - Breton? What Breton? Where in Oblivion did he come from?? It really added to the impact of the command spell, especially once Lildereth and Darnand explained it to Jerric (and me).

[SubRosa]

Ring on, ring off, ring on again. This could get annoying.
So it does! This is why I rarely use detect life in the game. Plus I like the surprise of walking around a corner and finding myself face to face with a troll.

I loved Jerric's dilemna concerning the sleeping elf. I hate the idea of attacking a sleeping person too, even when I know they are just going to attack me when they get up. He did the only thing he could do of course, but that does not make it easy. Now I wonder if he will be receiving a visit from a man in black the next time he sleeps?

A wonderful description of the Command spell taking over Jerric. It is nice to see this, as it never happens to the player in the game, most writers never think to have it used against their protagonist. Just like antagonists using detect life when people turn invisible in front of their eyes, or a dispel magic on their friend when they suddenly turn on them and attack.

Oh skitt,
This was an inventive way to circumvent the board's swear filter!

Darnand rode him down to the floor.
Hubba hubba! I guess if we cannot have Valdemar/Alain slash, we can make due with Darnand/Bjalfi!

“Well,” Jerric said after a moment, “at least they’re not sitting around talking about us.”
This was a perfect ending to an exciting fight. It looked pretty one-sided at first, but things really changed after Jerric switched teams. Nicely done.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Jul 19 2011, 05:05 PM

[treydog]

And my reading (and spamming) continues apace!

Chapter 7, Part 1

This is another one where I would have to simply copy and quote the whole post to highlight the “good parts.”

Even so- I will pull two paragraphs that define so much of what I love about this story:

[quote]One hand met the sword hilt. His fingers closed around it, and he clutched it like a drowning man holds on to a rope. He wiped the sweat from his face and told himself that if the daedra could breathe his air, then he could breathe theirs. He opened his eyes and focused them on the sword. A long, straight steel blade, double edged and stained with blood. The edges were squared off near the crossguard. He recognized the design on the hilt as Batul’s work. This sword had belonged to someone from Kvatch.[/quote]

[quote]Jerric pushed himself to his feet and deliberately slowed his breathing. The sword’s grip fit comfortably in his right hand, and its heft and balance felt familiar. There was plenty of room for his left when he cupped the rounded pommel in his palm and made an experimental thrust. When he got his arms moving, he began to calm down. He stood by the Gate and looked around him, and the sword’s weight in his hand held him together. If he could not close the Gate here, he would have to go into the Deadlands and look for a way. The Gate is behind me, he thought. Home is behind me. I need to go forward.[/quote]

Chapter 7, Part 2

[quote]The narrow, sloping hallway beyond appeared to be empty, so he jogged up in the near darkness to the door at the top. It opened from the center with a sound like tearing cartilage.[/quote]

Now THAT is a simile! Perfect description for the awful, organic feel of those towers in the Deadlands.

[quote]Disgust drove away his wonder. He had discovered a fountain, but it did not contain water. He spit and gagged for a moment until he brought himself back under control. Somehow this blood fountain had healing properties, he could feel it. He told himself that squeamishness and curiosity were luxuries he must put aside. He just needed to stay alive. He drank from the fountain and pretended it was something else to keep it down.[/quote]

Yes. Again, you show Jerric’s humanity- and his determination.

[quote]Jerric closed his eyes and reached in his mind for anything that would keep him on his feet. He thought of his sister's children even now trapped in the burning city. He imagined Fjirsten with her naughty gap-toothed smile, Hrolgar's small hand in his, the three of them walking in his Ma's sunny garden. Right now he should be with them. Grief surged through him, and rage followed it. He had failed them, but he was still alive. Anger gave him new strength. As long as he lived, he would keep going.[/quote]

I said that I would return to the statement that I would like to write like that if I ever grew up. This is another passage that reinforces that feeling.

[quote]Jerric’s joy splintered into new grief. He couldn’t bring himself to leave this man, not after he had lost all hope and then found him. Every moment that he delayed closing the Gate allowed more daedra to attack his city. He thought of Captain Matius and the Kvatch Guard. They held the barricade, barely. How many of them would fall while he stood here, paralyzed with indecision? What had his family suffered while he was wandering lost in the dim tower? Menien's courage was a balm to Jerric, but it was also an arrow through his heart.[/quote]

Wow. Just… wow. And of course Jerric gives Menien the dagger.

Chapter 7, Part 3

[quote]Jerric was astonished. He looked around at the tense, attentive faces, too embarrassed to speak. Many of these men had hauled him off to the drunk tank more than once. Public intoxication and brawling weren’t serious crimes, but he knew his arrest record took up a significant amount of parchment at the prison. To be recognized on sight by most of the law enforcement in Cyrodiil’s second largest city was something of an accomplishment.[/quote]

These moments that reveal Jerric’s history make him so real to us. And the contrast between the carefree brawler and prankster is even more stark as the story goes on.

I am going to skip ahead a bit, even though it is too late to avoid spamming your thread…

The retaking of the castle is one of the hardest “quests” in the game- not because of fear of dying- or not JUST that. I hate to lose companions- I feel that I have failed if any of the Guards or Legion troops get killed. You describe the chaos and the vain hope turning to despair as brilliantly as I have come to expect.

[quote]“I’m back!” announced Rilian, dropping down between them with a grin. “We’re on the edge of the Arena. I looked at the curbs. My father used to make me wait while he watched the games.” Rilian sounded breathless and exhilarated. Jerric thought that perhaps they had all gone a little crazy.[/quote]

That part I have to highlight, because it shows the depth you bring to your story and your characters.

[quote]Jerric turned and walked back into the city. His feet found a path through the wreckage, and his eyes followed the line of the city wall until he stood where his home had been. Small fires still burned under the rubble. They showed him that there was nothing left but tumbled stones and ash. Savlian had pointed to where the great siege crawler had come over the wall. His family would have been beneath it. He knew they had died here, crushed and burning. Still he had to look for them.[/quote]

[quote]He started searching the dead faces in the street, moving stones and people as he went. His hands turned every broken body until Inian found him at dawn. He took Jerric’s arm and led him away to the encampment like a child.[/quote]

Nothing I can say will adequately convey the power, beauty, and sadness those paragraphs invoke.

The conversations at the Anvil Guild, running the gamut from mundane to heartfelt, show your ear for the truth of human interactions. Even in the midst of a crisis, we are often petty and silly and obtuse.

[quote]Finally he met her eyes, and she saw that he was back behind them. His face wore all of the guilt and sorrow she was feeling. “I should have been here, Sigrid. I slept not half a day’s walk from here while they burned.”

Sigrid steeled herself for what she knew she had to say. This was no time for gentle words, only the truth. She hoped he was ready to face it. “You would have died with them, Jerric. I used my spells to get through the fire, but you would have fought until your last breath and then died along with the rest. Do you see any other Nords out here, or any children? No one escaped who was slowed by little ones. The only difference you would have made is more blood on the ground and your ashes in the wind. Don’t tell yourself you could have saved them.”[/quote]

That renders me speechless with admiration.

[quote]“I’m too old to stand here and try to convince a post that it’s made of wood.” Inian got his arm around Jerric, cuirass, shield, and all. He thumped him on the back. “Akatosh guide you, Jerric. Whether you know it or not.”[/quote]

So well written that I can see and hear Inian clearly.

[quote]Jerric decided there was just no polite way to explain his distraction during their alchemy lessons.[/quote]

Yes, well Sigrid does have a—“distraction”- or two about her.

[quote]He saw Faustino’s face fall, and he realized that they needed to believe in a hero. This isn’t about you, he told himself. He looked around at the other folk who were crowding him.[/quote]

You weave those changes in Jerric so skillfully that they surprise us….

[quote]Puppy dog eyes won’t work on this one, he thought. She probably eats puppies.[/quote]

Only the ones that get in her way or interrupt her “studies” or annoy her with their barking, or….

Love your description of Jerric “reading” Chillrend and the soul gems.

[quote]“Good. You said you’d left the priest behind, but you need to leave the rest of it, too. These are your last days as just Martin. You need to do what it takes so you’ll be ready for what’s coming. When the people look to you, they’ll want to see an emperor.” Jerric watched Martin as they walked. I hope I know what I’m doing, he thought. He was surprised to feel his annoyance receding.[/quote]

Perhaps we are best able to teach the lessons we ourselves need to learn.

[quote]A large rat lay curled on its side, frozen solid. “That’s one powerful frost spell,” Jerric remarked. He dropped the rat in front of Martin. It bounced a little when it hit the ground. “Here’s your kill. Dragonborn.”

Martin viewed his prize. “At least we can eat mine,” he replied. The grim sovereign was gone from his face, and a smile played around his eyes.

Jerric nudged the rat with his boot. “I guess. If we had a few days to thaw it.” He eyed Martin. “You’re not going to ask me to carry it along, are you?”

Martin gave him an arch look. “I’m not going to order you to bring it, no.” Then he laughed. “I suppose we could burn your kill and cook mine on its fire.[/quote]

Here, you bring Martin wonderfully to life- and also show that Jerric is beginning to be more like his old self, as well.

[quote]“Maybe we’ll run afoul of a murderous deer.”

“A rogue sheep would also be welcome.”

They walked in the sun for several minutes. “Martin,” Jerric said.

Martin looked across at him. “Yes, Jerric?”

“They say you have dragon blood in your veins. Do you think it’s true?”

“I think it’s true that the Septims had the dragon blood. I’ll be certain what flows through my veins when I hold the Amulet of Kings.”

“Well, I think I got a look at the dragon back there. If you’re killed before we get to the priory, do you think Jauffre will give me the Amulet of Kings? I’d light the Dragonfires for you.”

Martin looked disconcerted. “Well, Jerric, I don’t think it works that way.”

“Oh,” Jerric replied. “So the next time we’re attacked, how about if you stay behind me?” Jerric made an attempt to look stern.[/quote]

That whole passage had me laughing.

[quote]“When she went back out the door, the sun shone through and lit you up like a torch. Look at this boy, I thought. Unspoiled, and full of promise. See how the sun loves him.” Brother Martin looked at him intently.[/quote]

And then there are moments like that one- that just take my breath away.

[quote]“Is that a potion?” asked Martin. “Jerric Juice?”

“Jerric’s Juice,” Jerric corrected him. “Yes. It restores my magicka. Sign of the Atronach. I’m out of bottles, I should have grabbed some in Skingrad.”

“Oh,” Martin said. He sounded genuinely interested. “Is it supposed to be so… lumpy?”

“Are you an alchemist?”

“Not at all,” said Martin.

“Then yes, it’s supposed to be very lumpy.”[/quote]

And with perfect timing, you bring us back from the seriousness of the situation.

[quote]How is this place a secret? We followed a cobbled road to get here, and you found it in a snowstorm.”

“This fortress was built by Reman Cyrodiil’s Akavari Dragonguard at the founding of the Second Empire. The enchantments that conceal this place were laid down with the very stones. When you leave, you will not be able to find your way back unless you are one of us. Even those few who are born within these walls cannot find their way home unassisted, unless they are inducted into the Blades.”[/quote]

An excellent explanation for a rather major hole in the main quest as it is given.

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

“Lyrical” does not begin to do justice to that description- especially the final sentence.

[quote]Jauffre extended the sword balanced across his open palms. The simple gesture spoke louder than pomp or ceremony. Jerric took it from him with the sense of a door closing behind him.[/quote]

I want to quote a lot more than just that part- but it does so much that it will stand.

Chapter 9, Part 2

[quote]Now that he could see Anvil’s walls, he felt reluctant to close himself within them.[/quote]

You have such an economy of expression- a few words carry a world of feeling.

[quote]“He’s getting that center room in the front. I don’t care if you’re expecting the High Chancellor this weekend, that man is a hero. Unless you wanted an inn full of daedra, you should be thanking him. No, he’ll stay until he’s ready to leave. Don’t bother him. Send someone up with water, and a hot meal with some meat. I don’t care what time it is, he’s not waiting for dinner. Someone from the Mages Guild will probably check on him, you should give them your cooperation.”[/quote]

Hooray for Darnand.

[quote]Jerric was shortly headed back up the inn stairs with a towel around his neck, tripping over a borrowed robe. “I’ve never worn a dress before,” he told Darnand, but he couldn’t quite find a smile to go with the words.

“You’re hilarious. I don’t know anyone whose trousers would fit you. Carahil had this robe.”[/quote]

There is a bit of the prankster still left, even with the sadness.

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

Powerful and wonderful and sad.

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

“How can you not think about it?”

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

And the Darnand and Jerric Show is back in Anvil!

The discussion of the why’s and how’s of soul gems was a treat- and provided a lot of insight.

“[quote]Why do you need me to be naked?”

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

“You want to measure it?”[/quote]

Glad I read that passage at home rather than at work- and that I was carefully observing the “no beverages” rule.
There is so much with Abiene that is wise and sad and romantic and wonderful that I cannot isolate just a few instances. They are all good.

[King Coin]

Chapter 3.3
Obviously he's working for the assassins. He just tackled one, furthering their plot to assassinate the emperor!

Lol! That sounds like something that would happen to Jerric. Healing his nose while it’s busted so he's stuck with it!

Soo I guess passing out is sleeping huh? Good cover. Nobody will see through that one lol.

Going to the ruin eh? I hope he likes killing necromancers.

Chapter 4.1
So much for a friendly sit down at the camp. I really think that there should be more friendly camps in Oblivion. You are pretty safe opening fire on anything not in a town. I think it would be much more interesting if there was some doubt whether someone was a friend or a foe.

Jerric quickly finished off the bandits. I’m glad you reminded us that his armor was MIA.

Lol. Lots of helpful books around and which does he read?

He’s decided to take the amulet to Chorrol. Things are about to get very interesting for him.
Oh and I just remembered he’s an atronach (fantastic choice for a birthsign by the way ) so I’m glad he hit the magic well before setting out.

Chapter 4.2
Aleswell! Invisible people? I hope so!

For some reason I’ve always liked the surly Altmer in the fort.

He was not used to making a favorable first impression

Now that’s a proper party! Jerric won’t be in castoffs for long!

I really enjoyed the addition of this little quest to the journey to Chorrol.

Chapter 5.1
Bah! He should have gone to The Oak and Crosier. The rates are very similar if not the same as that dingy little shack. Lol.

Oh boy it’s Maglir. I wasn’t expecting him in The Grey Mare. I’ve always seen him in Skingrad.

And now the old Imperial. How many side quests is Jerric going to get tangled in before dropping off that amulet? Next he’ll be off to Hackdirt!

The visit to the Guild hall was very nice. It’s nice to read some about just the day to day things.

Chapter 5.2
Jerric is from Kvatch?! Oh no. I wonder if he’ll take the time to clear the goblins before hitting the road. Seems unlikely now.

I wish that the priests were this interesting in the game. My characters usually went without the horse.
I am relieved that Jerric didn’t forget about the goblins.

[Grits]

mALX: Thank you so much, mALX! It took a long time for this quest to click for me. This job was supposed to be well-rehearsed and smooth, but it sure didn’t work out that way! Thank you for pointing out the moment with the sleeping Altmer. He’s growing in some ways that he doesn’t like, but he’s still doing what he has to do.

Acadian: Lildereth is dragging Jerric kicking and yelling into staying alive. I changed the wording just a little when Jerric gets hit with the spell to give a better clue, but I didn’t want to really explain it until the end when Jerric figured out what happened. I was hoping that the confusion would reflect what was happening in the scene with an Aha! moment at the end, but not be confusing enough (or last long enough) to be annoying. Letting me know how it read to you is so helpful, I appreciate it very much. Thank you, Acadian!

haute ecole rider: You describe exactly what Jerric experienced: where did this Breton come from? I decided that the spell would trick a person into thinking someone was a stranger and their enemy, not force them to attack a friend against their conscious will. It seemed more like illusion magic that way. Thank you for letting me know how it was to read, I took a chance with it!

SubRosa: Fort Strand turned out to not be Jerric’s best day ever, what with the murdering and near friend killing. I had to answer my own question to Maeva, why don’t you waltz in there and get your own darn mace? You picked up Jerric’s issue with illusion magic back when Abiene tried to teach him. Now this day’s events might make him try using fireballs for light. Thank you for your comments about the fight. Jerric planned to do some straight-up slaying with mighty thews, but it didn’t work out that way!

treydog: Now we’re two chapters later from where you’re reading, and Jerric is still in Anvil. I have not yet learned how to move the plot forward. But I promise I have a plan! Writing the Kvatch sections was far more emotional than I expected. I think that’s why I’ve lingered in Anvil. He has things to do there, but mostly I think we both needed time to repair some damage and let him become Jerric again. I can’t express how much the time and care you’ve taken with my story means to me. Thank you, thank you, from the bottom of my heart!

King Coin: You can imagine it’s going to get pretty grim for Jerric in the next few chapters. He got a little sidetracked in Chorrol, I think he would have gone to Hackdirt if he stayed one more day! For some reason Jerric really got along with Brother Piner. It’s funny, because the game doesn’t give him much to say. Maybe it was the crumpled up letters he was writing to his mom, I loved them in the game but I couldn’t fit them in the story. I took a chance on the Atronach sign, since I’d never played it before. My other characters would be afraid to leave the house if they were born in Sun’s Dusk, but it has helped shape Jerric into what he is. Thank you, KC, I enjoy your comments so much!

Where we are: Jerric, Darnand, and Lildereth found Rockshatter and killed the Fort Strand marauders, despite the gang’s magical recruitment of Jerric during the final fight. Now they take care of a little business.


Chapter 11 Holidays: Part 12

Hauling salvage out of the ruin took most of the day. Darnand put the dead to rest inside the fort while Jerric cleaned the marauders’ armor. Lildereth ran back to the stable and returned with Flash and two rented pack mules. Darnand’s horse was not trained to a pack saddle.

The three of them walked down the road toward Anvil under a high overcast sky. Jerric swung Rockshatter idly in his hand. In his mind he could see a dozen skeletons lurching toward them with their boney grins. He imagined how the mace would feel as he bashed his way through them. Its shock noise was all too familiar, but he wondered if it would cause more recoil. A glance over the empty hillside told him his scenario was unlikely to occur. He considered summoning Slim so he could try out the mace.

The marauders’ dog trotted along with them, occasionally dashing off into the meadows but always returning to their side. Jerric had a number of troubles on his mind. He started with the easy one. “What are we going to do with the dog?” He raised his voice so that Darnand could hear him at the back of their procession.

“I do not think Carahil will approve of a massive hound in her hall,” Darnand remarked. “She has already made an exception to her standards by allowing Sparky to reside there. Not to mention the occasional Nord.”

“I’ll check with the Anvil Guard to see if anyone’s missing her,” Jerric said. “The Fighters Guild already has a dog. I think she’d like to live at the beach for awhile. Lildereth?”

“What’s her name?” Lildereth asked him.

“Ulfe,” Jerric answered immediately.

“She has fleas and ticks,” Lildereth said. “What are you going to do about that?”

Jerric laughed. “You are talking to a Master Alchemist and the former host of many a pestilence. None currently, of course. Bergamot, lavender, and orange oil for Ulfe. I’ve learned a mild shock spell on oneself kills even the most persistent crotch crabs, but I’d never do that to a dog.”

Ulfe trotted up to Jerric and kept pace beside him, her tail wagging gently as she walked. Her tongue lolled out in what appeared to be an excess of happiness.

“Ulfe seems to agree,” Lildereth said. “She’s no guard dog, Jerric.”

“I know. She’s a Colovian sight hound, and a good companion, I’d wager.” He reached out and scratched the side of Ulfe’s neck. She tossed her head up and rubbed her jaw against him affectionately. He guessed she didn’t mind the blood. “Anyway, I’d like to take her to Kvatch. I’m not a good long-term prospect for any female.”

Darnand, Lildereth, and Ulfe seemed to agree. Flash did not seem interested in Ulfe, and the dog knew her way around the pack animals. Jerric moved on to his next concern.

“They say when you murder someone, the Dark Brotherhood comes to you in your sleep,” he remarked.

“I have also heard this rumor,” Darnand called up to him. “I am told that is how they recruit new members. Whom did you murder, Jerric?”

“That Altmer in the bedroll. She never knew I killed her.”

“I doubt she was an innocent,” Lildereth told him. “If you dream of assassins, you’ll know she was.”

Jerric decided he wouldn’t notice one more bad dream. He turned back to Darnand. “You went after Bjalfi like a veteran brawler. Not bad for a man who can barely cut his own meat. What kind of mage jumps a Nord in steel plate armed with an enchanted mace?”

Darnand did not look amused. “One who has reached his limit.”

“Yeah,” said Jerric. “Sorry about that.”

“Do not apologize, you are not responsible for what you did under that spell.”

“All right. Still… When you said ‘mother-humping battlemages’…”

Darnand shot him a look. “I might have also meant you.”

Jerric placed a hand over his heart, walking backward. “That hurts, Darnand.”

“As does Nordic Frost. Let us say that we are even.”

Jerric grinned at him. “Deal.”

“I would ride a minotaur right now, if I could figure out how to mount it,” Lildereth announced.

Jerric agreed with the spirit of her remark, if not the specifics. “I think I’ve seen enough command spells for today.” He glanced back to check Darnand’s temper. “Try the Breton,” Jerric offered. “He looks like he could use some relief.”

“Watching death pass by does make one feel more alive,” Darnand admitted. “I suppose that is why there is usually a brothel right behind the Fighters Guild.”

“I expect you’d like me to take you both on,” Lildereth said. “Isn’t that what you men are always talking about?”

“By the Nine!” Darnand exclaimed, sounding a little out of breath.

Jerric looked back at Lildereth, curious. His finely honed instincts told him she was not really interested. “You’re pretty confident, tree rat.”

“You’re pretty proud of yourself, mouth breather,” she shot back. “I hate to be disappointed. You think they’ve got a warhammer, and they pull out a spoon.” She shook her head.

Jerric decided to call her bluff and see what point she was trying to make. “Come up here and see for yourself. Fair warning, it’s pretty humid down there.”

Lildereth laughed and kept walking.

“For someone without intentions, you’re pretty reckless with your mouth,” Jerric observed.

Lildereth gave him a green glance. “Now we all know where we stand.”

Fair enough, thought Jerric. I guess sooner or later a lot of men would try to give her a poke. “Where do you think we should sell our haul?” he asked, moving on.

“Morvayn’s or Lelles,’ I’ve traded at both places,” said Lildereth.

“One of us should do the haggling,” Darnand told Lildereth. “We’ll end up paying the merchant if we let Jerric do it.”

Lildereth nodded. “If we can catch Enilroth while Varel is out, I think I can get the best deal from him on the weapons and armor. Lelles will take the other items.”

“We need to eat, and we’re in no shape for the mages guild,” Jerric said. “Let’s drop off the heavy goods with Morvayn, then head over to the Flowing Bowl. Maenlorn always has a hunk of meat on the fire. We can sort through the small salvage up on that rooftop you showed us, Lildereth. We’ll put aside what we want to keep, and you two sell the rest.”

Lildereth nodded. “An expedient plan, Jerric,” said Darnand.

They followed their course of action, lightening their burdens with every stop. Jerric and Ulfe got some hard looks from the guards, but they passed through the city without trouble. Jerric used a belt as a temporary leash for Ulfe, as Countess Umbranox had a strict leash ordinance within city walls. Ulfe cooperated with what Jerric began to believe was an extraordinarily forgiving nature. Their appearance did not get them much attention Harborside as they made their way into The Flowing Bowl.

“Greetings!” called Maenlorn from behind the bar. “Welcome to The Flowing Bowl. Do you know which twin I am?” His face twinkled with enjoyment.

Jerric stared at him. “Again? Maenlorn, we were in here the other day. Last summer you called the Guard on me. You don’t even look like Caenlorn.”

Maenlorn squinted up at him. “Apologies, Jerric. You Nords all look alike.” Lildereth and Darnand moved around beside Jerric. Ulfe rested her chin on the bar, gazing placidly at the publican. “Oh, greetings, Lildereth. I didn’t see you there.” Maenlorn nodded to Darnand and Ulfe.

“You are the twin in brown,” Darnand informed him.

“We want a pitcher of ale, a bucket of water, and a piece of whatever poor creature you’re burning,” said Jerric. He glanced at the other two for confirmation. “Times four on the meal.”

“Shoulder of mutton stuffed with garlic and onion, roasted all afternoon in a very slow fire. A happy sheep who lived peacefully in our golden meadows. In her day she clothed us well and gave us many lambs to feast upon. Her temper was sweet, her fleece was springy, and her meat will nourish you. But not yet, she still needs a little more time on the fire.”

There was a silence as the companions considered his words. “All right then,” said Jerric. “Start a tab, if you please. We’ll be up on your Bosmer balcony as long as the rain holds off.”

Maenlorn filled a pitcher from the ale barrel. “Take some bread while you’re waiting for Flossy.”

Jerric grabbed the pitcher and three mugs in his hand, tossing the bread to Lildereth. Darnand shouldered his back and picked up the water bucket. Lildereth led their parade up the stairs.

Ulfe

This post has been edited by Grits: Jul 21 2011, 09:22 PM

[SubRosa]

“She has already made an exception to her standards by allowing Sparky to reside there. Not to mention the occasional Nord.”
Indeed, the latter shed enough as it is!

I’ve learned a mild shock spell on oneself kills even the most persistent crotch crabs
Ewwww!

A nice homage to the game with the rumor about the Dark Brotherhood (apparently only men are allowed). Also some cute banter between the trio. I guess since they are a team now, they need a name. Maybe the Terrible Trio? The Anvil Three?

And Ulfe is of course terribly adorable.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Jul 21 2011, 09:29 PM

[haute ecole rider]

Colovian Sighthound indeed! Loved the pic of Ulfe. But doesn't Jerric know that if you name 'em, they're yours for life?

Actually these dogs are quite fierce guardians of their families (i.e. the classic story of the Irish Wolfhound who defended the baby from a wolf that broke in, only to be killed for being covered in the wolf's blood when the father arrived home and mistakenly thought the dog had killed the babe). So that makes Ulfe's behavior even more striking.

Loved the banter between the three. Lildereth is now considered one of the 'boys' if they are comfortable enough to descend into trash talk with her. She certainly is comfortable in her own skin! Liking this woman (wo-elf?) more and more!

[Acadian]

A great transition from dungeon to town, complete with fabulously natural and entertaining banter among the three amigos. Ulfe does indeed look exactly how I would picture a 'Colovian sight hound'.

“They say when you murder someone, the Dark Brotherhood comes to you in your sleep,” he remarked.'
This is so rich for a couple reasons. Firstly, it instantly reminds of that Jerric is not at all done thinking about killing that sleeping Altmer. Secondly, it is one of those precious times when, without the slightest bit of force, a line from the game slips perfectly into place. Well done!

Goodness. I hope Lildereth doesn't let a minotaur near her sock drawer. Oh, and perhaps Ulfe should guards hers from Jerric? Well, you know, since Flossie is no longer available. . . .

“You’re pretty confident, tree rat.”
Oh my. I see that SubRosa and I shall have to add this to our growing list of names for our bark biting wood nymphs elves.

'Ulfe rested her chin on the bar, gazing placidly at the publican. “Oh, greetings, Lildereth. I didn’t see you there.” Maenlorn nodded to Darnand and Ulfe.'
I hope so very much I'm not mistaken here. Maenlorn just called Lildereth a dog, and the image had me rolling!

[King Coin]

Chapter 6.1
Heh, it sounds like you’ve received some whacky directions before. Jerric’s thoughts about the directions to the Odiil farm were pretty funny.

Good thing that Jerric warned them of his summons. I always imagined a summon causing an uproar even though the NPCs never batted an eye at a skeleton popping out of nowhere.

Chillrend was one of the coolest blades in the game. It’s just too back that it wasn’t a bit more useful (in game). I’m sure Jerric will put it to good use.

You thinking about doing some plowing, Jerric?

Chapter 6.2
Lol Jerric got to go fishing. That’s one boring quest that I always do. The ring is just too valuable to not get.

Nerussa gets a lot of attention. She’s going to have Jerric tromping around old forts to get some wine.

There was something that he needed, but he hesitated to ask. He looked across the counter at Nerussa.

"I could really use a haircut," he said.

Not what I was expecting him to say at all!

Chapter 6.3
So many parties spring up when a big Nord wanders into town

A puppet show? Hilarious! Too bad Jerric didn’t stay!

Chapter 6.4
I remember the passage about the apple and the horse from some topic on the BethSoft forum.

Nice to know Druja doesn’t think much about anyone. Funny sarcasm though. “Good for you.”

Huh, everyone’s so cheerful. Except Vigge. Keep an eye on him.

Chapter 6.4
Ah yes it’s Falanu, as creepy as ever.

I almost forgot that Sinderion was an Altmer, being pleasant and all.

Haha! Maglir! Someone for Jerric to punch in the face!

Servilla the Serpent.

Oh my…

Chapter 6.6
A highwayman! This one knew what he was doing too for the most part. Why are highwaymen always khajiit? That always irked me about Oblivion.

Jerric the Doll? Lol!

Chapter 7.1
I was going to quit at the end of chapter 6, but I want to read some more!

Great description of the city and what Jerric was feeling. The Deadlands are a terrifying place and Jerric reacted as you would expect. I’m glad he pulled himself together quickly. He better get used to going to hell and back though.

I always sent the guard out of the gate too. I always do my best to keep the guards alive.

[mALX]

Remind me not to have a mouth full of anything when Jerric begins discussing his crotch crickets ... urgh!

I loved the discussion about the Dark Brotherhood - Jerric is obviously worried about hs actions earlier !! Awesome interjection of the game wording there !! Ulfe is beautiful !!! Awesome Chapter !!