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

[King Coin]

Chapter 10
I wonder what’s with the cold shoulder from Rhano? Because he’s a battle mage?

It sounded like a huge insult when Azzan said “I have something that suits your experience” and then proceeded to tell the Hero of Kvatch to deal with a rat problem.

Do you trust me?”

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

I really like the Carahil you put in Jerric’s story.

Chapter 10.2
It’s been a while since I’ve seen ‘chortle’ used. Felen seems like a good guy as well. I’m used to the notion of mages being full of themselves (like the way Darnand was at the beginning)

At least hunting with Inventius should be enjoyable to a nord such as Jerric.

Chapter 10.3
I like the community there in the fighter’s guild. They’re giving him sh!t already

I just read your comment to mALX about not sure if it sounds like they are joking around. Believe me you did it very well! Great job!

I don’t think Oblivion gates will be troubling him tonight.

[D.Foxy]

I wish I was Jerric -
I really, really do
I hoped to be as hearty
as when he fights, farts and screws,

I wish him the best
And plenty of rest
for he shall yet need it
to fulfill author's behest -

Let all malefactors fear
This galumphing Nord here
A touch of poet in a mass of Bear
A bit of clown to balance the frown

Long may Jerric live and love
And find inspiration from stars above
*the ones he sees after he's been bonked
on the head, or after a - erm - dronk*

After I've committed this sin
of forcing spelling to rhyme whithin
I now shall read again to savour
This story which I (and many) favour!!!

[Grits]

ghastley: A hangover without the getting drunk part. Such evil in the name of science.

SubRosa: It started off as “When we buried Darnand’s flesh,” but that sounded worse!!

mALX:

GAAAAAH! Huh? Oh, Whew !!

That was Abiene’s exact reaction!

haute ecole rider: I knew he’d be in that tub for awhile, so I thought he should at least get a snack.

Acadian: When the gang leaves Anvil, I’m going to miss Thaurron more than those Abecean sunsets. He has captured my heart in a completely unexpected way.

King Coin: I’m already looking forward to getting back to Cloud Ruler Temple. If Jauffre didn’t invite my character to join, I would be pissed off, too! Your insights into Darnand are exactly right. He has been difficult for me to write, since he is not a big talker. I wish Jerric could spend more time at the Fighters Guild in Anvil, they are a lot of fun. You’re right about Rhano’s issue with him, and Azzan’s ego-check. Here you go, hero, a weird lady and her rats. You’re about a chapter away from Fort Strand. That will explain why I couldn’t post screenshots of the Bjalfi confrontation.

D. Foxy: A Foxy poem!! I am so honored and delighted. Thank you so much for providing the nudge that made me get on with it. Also I was slightly growled at by a Nord. Something about keeping warrior poets waiting?

Where we are: In Anvil, Darnand and Jerric are making final road trip preparations. This next little adventure will take two posts to cover.



Chapter 12: Return to Kvatch, Part One

Darnand sat at his work table in the guild hall basement, candlelight flickering over the page in front of him. The words had stopped making sense some time ago. Dark eyes in a gentle face had taken their place in his mind. Abiene. He could almost smell her hair and feel her hands in his, somehow both soft and strong. Silk rustled in his memory as her sweet lips brushed his cheek.

Two days had passed since she left for Chorrol. Two mornings without her quick steps in the corridor. Five endless meals in the dining hall with an empty space on the bench beside him. Thaurron had haunted the guild hall’s second level last evening, drifting between the library and hearth room like a ghost. Even Sparky seemed listless and unsettled. She brought a kind of light to all of us, he realized. I was foolish to wait this long. Now I must bide my time until she has finished her studies.

Booted feet out in the passageway interrupted his thoughts. Only one mage strode through the guild hall like that, as if listening to war drums. Darnand leaned back and watched the doorway for his friend.

Jerric breezed in, tossing something in his hand. The Nord’s broad grin was a welcome sight. When he neared Darnand’s table, he sent a small, felt sack sailing through the air. It landed on the book with a clink. “From Maeva with love,” said Jerric.

“It took you long enough to go back to Whitmond. I almost thought you might keep the mace.” Darnand lifted the coin purse. “You were right, the spoils were the real reward. This will not be much once we split it three ways.”

“Two ways,” said Jerric. “I can’t take her coin, it wouldn’t feel right.” He studied the wall over Darnand’s head with what Darnand decided was supposed to be an innocent expression.

“Tell me you did not,” Darnand said warily. “At least not until after she paid you.”

Jerric laughed. “No, I didn’t. She was spreading manure on her kitchen garden, and that’s a little much even for me. And you were right about the sweating.” His voice took on a wistful tone. “She’s going to make some farmer a very happy man some day. Rockshatter is a beautiful mace.” He seemed to shake himself. “Anyway, add my cut to what I owe you.”

“That would be two shares of three ways. There is no debt between us. If there was, I would subtract it.”

Jerric’s palm thumped heavily on Darnand’s head. “That’s a good Breton. If it was a pitcher of mead, I would know how to split it. Thanks for keeping track of the numbers. You know I can’t count past… How many did you tell me?”

Darnand flicked his hair back into place, smiling to himself. He decided to help Jerric get to his point. “I have not forgotten my promise. I shall accompany you to the Riptide this evening. Though how one tavern differs from another is beyond my powers of observation.”

“Different brews. I heard the publican at the Riptide brings in a Bruma porter for the winter. I think you’ll like it better than the Gold Coast beers. It should taste malty, not bitter with hops. Plus I could stand to look at some different women.”

Darnand waited, but Jerric just loomed over his workbench wearing his mildly pleased expression. Darnand raised an inquiring eyebrow.

“Oh,” said Jerric. “I guess you don’t know. This evening is right now. Let’s go. You don’t need to change your gown or anything. How one of your robes differs from another is beyond my powers of observation.”

Darnand left his cloak behind in favor of a warming spell. Pipe smoke no longer bothered him in the air, but he did not enjoy the way it lingered in woolen clothing. Their path took them past the chapel and out the Castle Gate. Darnand knew that the Riptide was located on the harbor’s east end.

“I think I found a mount,” Jerric said as they walked. “I can’t ask Flash to carry me and everything we’ll need for a winter camp. He’s quiet as a lamb, Clesa said. I don’t know about that. The lambs I’ve seen are pretty frisky.”

Not long ago that would have annoyed me, thought Darnand. “Shall I accompany you?”

“Yeah,” said Jerric. “I’d like to know what you think. We can take him out on the road with Flash and Banner, see how they get along.”

“Tomorrow. If you have time, I would also like to review our supply needs.”

“Done,” Jerric said. “We can take over the back of the basement for a few hours, or use your chamber. I’ll show you what we have, and how I pack it. You might need to pick up some things after I check your gear, but I’m ready to go.”

Darnand considered as they walked. “Ready to go when?”

“Day after tomorrow, if you like. I have a few things I’ll leave at the guild hall, in case I make it back. Books, mostly. I’ve already paid Vania, she’s going to lock up for me when she’s through cleaning the hut. What do you still need to do?”

“I must visit the castle steward and shift some things into storage at the guild hall. Carahil might reassign my chamber while we are away.” He looked over at Jerric. “Do you not wish to stay for Old and New Life Festivals?”

His friend’s eyes stayed forward. “I guess I can skip another drunken episode.” He ran a hand through his hair in a familiar gesture. “I guess by then we’ll be in Kvatch.”

Darnand didn’t know how to respond to his friend’s agitation. Jerric’s return to Kvatch also troubled his mind. He was no more inclined to offer false comfort than Jerric would be to accept it. They stopped in front of a single-story split log building. Jerric pushed open the door, and Darnand followed him into the tavern.

The Riptide looked the same as The Flowing Bowl inside. Dark and smoky, with every surface showing hard use. It smelled the same, too, Darnand decided. The music of wood elf voices was absent here, replaced by a sullen mutter. Darnand followed his friend to the bar. He guessed that Jerric’s Bruma porter must come from one of the barrels against the wall. That meant they would drink from tavern crockery. Darnand braced himself for an unsanitary experience.

“Hey, Jerric,” called a thick voice from the center of the room. Darnand saw that it came from a spectacularly unkempt Nord hunched troll-like over his tankard. “I’ve heard some strange noises coming from your hut in the past weeks. Sounded like a seagull crying, but long after dark.” The tavern quieted as folk turned their attention to Jerric.

Darnand glanced at his friend and found him almost unrecognizable. The dark look on his face made Darnand reflexively take one step away. “Maybe it was a seagull, Bog Trawler,” Jerric growled.

“She must have flown all the way from High Rock,” sneered Bog Trawler, seeming to somehow swell. “In fact—”

“It was your ma,” Jerric interrupted. “I’m sure you’ve heard her sound that way before. When the little man comes to sweep the chimney, maybe. Or when the milk lad comes in for his New Life tip.” Darnand looked at his hands and realized that Jerric had just passed him his dagger.

Bog Trawler’s face turned from red to purple as he smashed his tankard against the floor. By the time he lurched to his feet, Jerric was over the tables.

Space was hastily made as the two Nords crashed to the floor. The tavern’s patrons began calling out wagers over the barman’s shouts. Bog Trawler’s enraged bellows abruptly ceased. They rolled so that Bog Trawler lay on his back with Jerric under him. Darnand shifted his feet, wondering how he could help his friend. Jerric was visible only as a corded forearm around the larger Nord’s throat and pair of boots hooked over the man’s thick thighs. Then Bog Trawler thrashed and Jerric’s face became visible, turned to the side and oddly serene.

An argument broke out to Darnand’s left and quickly spread through the tavern. Smashing crockery and angry cries from either side announced the beginning of a brawl. Darnand found himself short of breath and pinned to a table with a Dunmer on top of him. A telekinesis spell moved the mer, but an Anvil guard took his place. The tavern returned to relative order as the combatants scattered.

“Grab that Breton, he has a blade,” called a tense, nasal voice. Darnand found a sword pointed at his chest. After a moment of frozen shock, he realized that the man was talking about him.

Darnand heard Jerric start to object somewhere beyond his sight. The guard with the sword spoke to Darnand slowly, in a calm tone. “Drop the dagger. What happens next is up to you.”

Darnand couldn’t feel the dagger leave his fingers, but he heard it hit the floor. The guard kicked it away and stepped back, allowing Darnand to breathe. Darnand saw Jerric leaving the tavern. “Don’t forget my blade, Marcellus,” he called back over the heads of his escort.

Bog Trawler rose up from the floor like a mountain, shedding russet-coated forms. His guards arranged themselves around him, surging to one side or the other as he struggled. Darnand heard chains under the swearing as they started for the door.

“I know who you are,” Darnand’s guard said to him quietly, drawing Darnand’s attention back to the sword. “When you have composed yourself, sir, you will accompany me to the castle.”

The man’s voice restored reason to the world. “Constable Illio,” Darnand said, surprised. “We met on Saturalia.”

Illio gave him a tight smile. “Yes. We have a mutual friend. For her sake, I hope you can keep your head.”

Darnand nodded. “I will cooperate in every way. However, I am uncertain what is expected of me in this situation.”

Illio retrieved Jerric’s dagger and sheathed his sword. “Walk with me, keep your hands down. No magic. We can skip the irons as long as you comply. I’ll take you as far as the dungeon. Jerric will be there, I’m sure he’ll want to talk you through your processing. No one wants to see a daedroth tonight.” The Imperial made a polite gesture, and Darnand preceded him out into the cold night.

Darnand and Constable Illio got little attention as they passed through the harbor in the wake of Jerric and Bog Trawler. Jerric stayed as silent as he had been during the fight, but Bog Trawler’s curses floated back to them on the light wind. Illio slowed their pace as they reached the castle bridge, allowing first Jerric’s group and then Bog Trawler’s to cross before he and Darnand stepped onto it. Darnand took a moment to look up at the glittering night sky. He told himself that the cold was the source of his shaking.

“I was just here,” Darnand said to Illio as they entered the castle courtyard. The other two parties were nowhere in sight.

“We won’t be going through the Great Hall tonight,” said Illio. He stopped outside a reinforced door guarded by a woman in Anvil colors. “Let’s give them another moment to secure the Nords. Bog Trawler might still have some energy left.” The constable braced his feet apart and absently loosened his sword in its scabbard. “You know, your friend sends a keg of mead to the barracks every Saturalia. You can thank him for your noble’s treatment tonight. At least until we get under the castle. The jailers are a different sort; you should step lightly around them.”

Darnand wished he had thought to jump off the bridge. “Thank you, constable. You have made this a most pleasant arrest.”

Illio’s eyes glinted under his helm. “May you have a brief and equally agreeable incarceration.” He nodded for the guard to open the door.

[SubRosa]

So Darnand still has it bad for Abiene? Poor guy, unrequited love is a beyotch. He seems to be holding out until she returns to make finally make a move on her. So he has not noticed she is shacking up with Jerric? I would think it would be rather obvious to everyone in the guild hall by now. Given the scene in the bar, it does not appear to be a secret.

You know I can’t count past… How many did you tell me?”
21, assuming he takes off his shoes and drops his pants...

And Jerric gets Darnand arrested! Now that is a wonderful way to spend his last night in Anvil.

No one wants to see a daedroth tonight.
Obviously a very wise guard. Not to mention one without a dispel magic spell or scroll.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Aug 14 2011, 08:29 PM

[mALX]

Holy Cow! We finally get to see how Jerric really gets banged up in those bar fights !! WOO HOO !!!!! You nailed this by giving the visuals from Darnand's viewpoint, that made us all witnesses with him - Awesome!!!

Jerric may have been protecting Darnand from finding out about Abiene, but I doubt Darnand would actually be able to guess the female (knowing Jerric is quite free with dispensing his pleasure with the masses).

What a twist of events !! This is AWESOME !!! This chapter is right up in the top five favorites of Jerric's episodes !! AWESOME WRITE !!! WHEW !!!

[Acadian]

Opening scene- *sigh* - Poor Darnand.

'The Riptide looked the same as The Flowing Bowl inside. Dark and smoky, with every surface showing hard use. It smelled the same, too, Darnand decided. The music of wood elf voices was absent here, replaced by a sullen mutter. Darnand followed his friend to the bar. He guessed that Jerric’s Bruma porter must come from one of the barrels against the wall. That meant they would drink from tavern crockery. Darnand braced himself for an unsanitary experience.'
What a masterfully scene-setting description. I luvs those musical wood elven voices!

A fun episode - admittedly not so for Jerric nor Darnand. I really enjoyed the 'classy' arrest treatment that Darnand received.

[King Coin]

Chapter 10.4
It sounds like Abiene doesn’t mind it a little rough

I like the description of Jerric’s healing. It certainly fits him though. Gets what needs to be done not through finesse, but brute strength and determination.

She’s interested in both Jerric and Darnand eh? Which is she going to choose… because I don’t think she’ll be with both unless this turn into one of those books.

Wait did I just totally misread her interest in him? I’m like a child, hoping for approval from Papa, she realized

@ the Woodelf. I always imagined them as those ‘cursed morning people.’

Chapter 10.5
Morvayn’s Peacemakers feels as much like an island for Jerric almost as much as the MG and FG does amongst the world.

None of my characters got any special treatment for being a hero! No repairs under the promise of payment!

“Shall I paralyze you now, or would you like a head start?”
Great line!

What will be better? Glad I don’t have to wait to find out. An advantage of being horribly behind you see. I bet you enjoyed dangling that in front of everyone.

Chapter 10.6
Ah crap.

[Grits]

Folks, since I decided to go ahead and keep the whole story in one thread, I added a table of contents to the very first post with links to the beginning of each chapter. There are also a few screenshots of the Fort Strand adventure posted in King Coin's excellent video thread.


SubRosa: Abiene’s habits never changed to most of her guild mates. She lost a lot of sleep, but restoration magic helps with that. I expect she slept the whole way to Chorrol! I doubt Jerric is reliable counting past eleven. He might not remember to take off his boots.

mALX: You’re right, Jerric would only need to worry if Bog Trawler recognized her, since he’s been so generous with his affection. And now that Darnand has Abiene on that pedestal, she would be his last guess. Thank you, mALX!! I’m glad you enjoyed the Breton’s-eye view of the fight.

Acadian: I thought you might enjoy Darnand noticing the elf voices. Thaurron and Lildereth have had an influence on him. Thank you for mentioning Constable Illio’s manner. I think Countess Umbranox would encourage courtesy as part of maintaining order. Courtesy backed up with a sharp sword.

King Coin: You read her interest right, she has all kinds of tingly feelings for both of them. She also wants Darnand to see how clever she is, like when she would bring home school work to show off her good grades. Darnand does remind her of her father, but not in icky ways. Yikes, you did stop at an “oh crap” moment.

Where we are: Darnand goes to jail.



Chapter 12: Return to Kvatch, Part 2

Darnand and Constable Illio passed down stone stairs and through corridors until they reached a square chamber lined with cupboards. A grizzled Imperial in a guard’s uniform stood beside a desk with his arms crossed over his barrel chest, a ring of keys clenched in his fist. An assortment of shackles and chains hung on the wall behind him. Illio placed Jerric’s dagger on the desk next to a ledger, parchment, and writing implements. Jerric’s voice reached them from the chamber beyond as Darnand stared at his jailer, but Darnand did not hear what he was saying.

The Imperial frowned at him. “Name,” he grunted.

“Darnand Penoit of Anvil, Associate of the Mages Guild.”

“Have you been informed of the charges against you?” The jailer sounded irritated.

Darnand cleared his throat. “Yes.”

“You’ll be booked when the complaint is filed, or released in due time if no one comes forward. Fill in the parchment. Anything on him I need to know about?” Darnand realized that the question was directed at his captor.

“He’s clean,” said Illio. Darnand signed his name under Jerric’s scrawled signature and Bog Trawler’s mark. He noted that the other Nord had not supplied a given name.

“Let’s go, lawbreaker,” said the guard. “Your suite is ready. Stay in front of me, hands out where I can see them.”

Darnand preceded him into the dungeon. Torchlight showed him a long, windowless chamber with barred openings on either side. Straw was stacked in bales and loosely piled in a cart against the far wall. The smells of everything a body could expel assaulted his nose. As he walked down the center holding his hands carefully out from his sides, his fellow prisoners jeered at him in tones from bored to deranged. Then through the bars of one cell, there was Jerric.

The cell door shut behind Darnand with a clang that made him flinch. A quick glance over his friend showed only a purple mark under one eye and a scrape on his forehead. After a second look, Darnand decided that there was really no way to determine if his nose had been broken again, short of asking.

Jerric reached out and squeezed Darnand’s shoulders. “Sorry about this,” he said. “I should have kept you out of it.”

Darnand swallowed until he felt his voice wouldn’t crack. Then he realized he didn’t have anything to say.

“Don’t worry,” Jerric told him. “I’ve been in and out of here so often I’m surprised they even locked the door. And they didn’t even make us change into their prison clothes. Maybe we’ll just be here overnight.” He moved over and leaned against the bars. “When you’re bare and bent over with the law investigating your person, that’s when you know you’ve done wrong. I’d swear that of any folk of all races, prison guards have the thickest thumbs.” Jerric winked. “At least I hope that’s what they use.”

“By the Nine! For what purpose is that done? Do you suppose he will return?” Darnand looked frantically out through the bars. Then he worried that he might have drawn the guard’s attention.

“They search you on the way in if you’ve really misbehaved,” Jerric explained. They might have been in the dining hall at the mages guild, for all the concern he showed. “Lockpicks, smuggled goods, you’d be surprised what folk carry around. I once saw an Imperial with a whole sheep’s bladder full of moon sugar, and I don’t mean in his pocket. He was not happy, I can tell you. Neither was the guard, actually. Ugh, what a job! No wonder they’re usually in a foul temper.”

A shudder rippled through Darnand’s frame. “That just does not make sense to me. How could someone manage it?”

Jerric gave him an evaluating look. “Something tells me this is not the time to explain. Anyway, relax. That didn’t happen.” He dropped to the floor and started doing rapid pushups.

Erratic behavior from one’s cellmate was not comforting, Darnand decided. He looked around the cell, rubbing his hands up his arms. A rough pallet and a bucket in the corner were the only furnishings. The floor was strewn with straw and unidentifiable oddments. And occupied by a Nord of exceptional cheer and vigor. “What are you doing?” Darnand finally asked.

“Check-in procedure,” Jerric grunted without pausing. “I’ll stay calmer if I’m tired.”

“Well you are not helping me to relax.” At least the straw is fairly fresh, Darnand noticed. He did not want to think about the bucket.

“Join me down here. Could be a life-altering decision.”

“No, but thank you.” Darnand shivered again.

Jerric popped up and grinned at him. “You live all day inside your mind, but this meat has to carry you around.” He dug a hard finger into Darnand’s arm. “What will you do when you’re too weak and spindly to pick up a book? What if you have to pull me out of a ruin? I’d like to think you could at least help me home if I exhaust myself in a brothel.”

“A mage can enhance his strength and abilities. I could cast a feather spell and drag you with two fingers.” Darnand thought that the cell had become a little smaller.

“That’s going to be impressive when you’re with a lady. ‘Just a moment, love, I must enhance my strength and abilities. I shall cast a spell to make you less of a heavy burden.’ Women love to hear stuff like that. Hey, maybe you could wear an enchanted—”

“All right, I take your point,” said Darnand. There is nothing else to do, he thought. “Show me.”

Darnand did his best to imitate Jerric. Eventually he decided that he must be doing well, as his chills had turned to sweat. He had time to regret it when Jerric said they were through. Darnand’s muscles burned in ways he hadn’t experienced, and cold and clammy was worse than just cold. “No spells,” Jerric told him, leaning against the wall with his legs stretched across the cell. “If you use magic, we’ll both get the irons.”

Darnand scooted back against the wall next to him. His mouth felt dry, and his stomach rumbled despite the stench. Another chill shook him.

“I wish I still had my Ring of the North,” Jerric said. “It had an enchantment to keep you warm. I didn’t really need it, but sometimes it came in handy when I was with a woman. You know, outside. Too bad I lost it, you could use it tonight.”

Darnand stared at him, deciding which question to ask first. “You lost an enchanted ring?”

“I didn’t misplace it, I lost it dicing. Then I learned to throw better, but the fetcher I lost it to never wagered it again.”

“You mean you learned to cheat.”

“No,” Jerric explained patiently. “I practiced until I knew how to win. I don’t cheat.” He gave Darnand a look that a six year old might try when caught with his hand in the sweet jar. “You don’t have any dice on you, by some chance?”

“We do not require dice to wager.” Darnand began breaking up an abandoned crust of bread. “For example, do you see that spider, descending from the beam? Which way will she turn when she reaches the floor, left or right?”

Jerric stared intently at the spider. Darnand pushed half of the bread cubes over to him and leaned forward to scribe a line in the debris directly under the spider. “Left,” said Jerric. He brushed aside the straw and slapped one of his bread cubes on the stones between them. “A bet while we wait for the spider. Which of those Imperials will be the first to spew?”

Darnand looked over at the cell across from them. Three young men in fine but disheveled clothing sat against the far wall in various states of distress. “The one in the red doublet.” He met Jerric’s spider bet and placed a second bread cube to the side.

By the time Darnand had won all of the scraps of bread, he was hungry enough to consider eating them. He rarely thought about meals, but then he always knew that the next one would be available. Jerric’s persistent hunger seemed more reasonable now. Darnand decided that rather than dwell on his situation, he would to try to sleep.

Jerric must have had the same idea. “You take the bed,” Jerric told him, lifting his chin at the pallet. “Don’t worry, anything that bites you will likely scamper off before you can jump. Anyway, I doubt you’ll be much of a haven for fleas. I’ve slept with women who are hairier than you.” Jerric started unbuckling as he headed to the bucket.

There were so many things in Jerric’s remarks that Darnand found disquieting, he decided to just let the whole thing go. He curled on the pallet in a way that he might touch as little as possible. It reeked of mold and unwashed folk. Darnand said a brief prayer that he might temporarily lose his sense of smell. Then he prayed to lose his hearing as Jerric endlessly filled the bucket, humming a jaunty tune.

Jerric stretched out on the stones with such a contented sigh, Darnand almost looked to see if he had conjured a feather bed. He closed his eyes against the torchlight, surprised to realize how close sleep had already come. He found his mind turning away from the comfort of his bed at the guild hall, instead wondering at the camps and inns to come. This night is only the first of weeks of discomfort, he realized. But at least I know the company will be entertaining.

___

Darnand woke on the floor, mysteriously and crushingly warm. Sweet Mother Mara, I’m in prison, he remembered. As his senses returned, he realized that he had joined the long and doubtlessly colorful parade of people who had been spooned by Jerric. He crawled away with a cry and staggered against the wall as his sleeping legs failed to support him.

When Jerric flopped over onto his back, Darnand decided that three of the pallets still wouldn’t contain him. His friend spoke in a sleepy voice, eyes still closed. “Don’t flatter yourself, we haven’t been in here that long. You were cold.”

Darnand brushed straw and a crawling sensation off of his chest and arms. “Where in the sixteen realms is your shirt?” He could not imagine why the Nord couldn’t keep his clothes on.

Jerric reached under his head and produced it. “No pillow.” He opened his eyes. “You’re a heavy sleeper. You’re lucky it’s me you’re locked in with, pretty boy.” His wiggling eyebrows looked so ludicrous, Darnand couldn’t help but snort.

He smoothed his hair and began to shake his robe into order. His body was a chorus of complaints, but he ignored it. “I do not suppose that the guards will break our fast with a fresh pot of kahve.”

“Let’s hope they don’t break our anything. I might not know the next fellow who comes in here. We’ve had a pleasant stay so far, but you never know when one of them is going to share his bad day.” Jerric climbed to his feet, pulling his shirt on over his head.

Jangling keys and grumbling preceded a guard into the dungeon. Darnand grew both hopeful and concerned when he walked straight to their cell.

“Pack your bags, it’s time to drag your stinking carcass out of my jail,” the guard growled.

Jerric lounged against the bars, straw in his hair and an insolent grin on his face. “So soon? I haven’t had a chance to dine on the county’s drake. I’ll have some strawberry jam on my toast, and make sure my eggs aren’t runny.”

“Ha! Fellow from the Riptide dropped the charges last night when he came by to pick up his shackles. I guess he heard you drink more than you break. Bog Trawler’s been out for hours. You ladies looked so cozy, I didn’t want to wake you.” He began to work his key in the lock.

“What are you still doing here?” Jerric asked. “Are you fellows pulling double shifts?” Darnand realized that it must be the same man who locked them in last night.

“Double and then some. The Watch has new patrols, with news of daedra roaming about. More training with the county militia, and some of them still on the teat. Half the guards that had prison duty are back up on the walls.”

The jailer returned Jerric’s daggers at the desk. Their fines left them with only a few coins between them. Darnand suspected that their gold would go straight into the man’s pocket, and the record of their arrest would meet a flame. He decided not to mention his theory to Jerric. His friend might drag him to the Steward’s office to ensure justice was done on them. Jerric had a unique sense of duty for a repeat offender.

They stopped when they reached the castle bridge to raise their faces to the sun. “Mid-morning,” Jerric sighed. “It’s a good day to buy a horse.” He looked at Darnand. “I suppose you won’t be right until you’ve had a bath. Let’s find something to eat and some kahve first. I don’t think you’ve blinked since I handed you my dagger. We’re out now, you can go ahead and breathe.”

Darnand decided that he wouldn’t argue. Jerric bought some kind of food from a Harborside cart, and Darnand devoured it without questions. He chugged his kahve under the amused glances of Jerric and the kahve vendor. “One night inside, and you’re eating like an inmate,” Jerric laughed at him. They walked into the Chapelgate District in companionable silence. There were plenty of folk out on the street. Darnand wondered if he looked like a criminal.

“Dammit,” said Jerric, halting in his tracks in front of the chapel. “I went the wrong way.”

Darnand stopped too. “Will you meet me at the guild hall later? I will negotiate your purchase with Clesa, if you wish.”

“Yeah, I definitely wish.” Jerric began to walk backward toward the Castle Gate. “Do your exercise,” he said, pointing at Darnand.

“If I think of it,” Darnand replied, smiling to himself. He turned and started toward the guild hall again.

“Keep doing it, every day,” Jerric said earnestly, raising his voice as the distance increased.

“Perhaps I will forget how,” Darnand called over his shoulder. He relished the rare opportunity to tease Jerric.

“Darnand!” he heard Jerric shout behind him a moment later. He turned and looked at him down the busy street. “Just keep doing it like I showed you in prison!” Jerric made a motion that indicated pushups. From the looks on the faces around him, Darnand suspected that the gesture was being widely misinterpreted.

Jerric gave Darnand a cheery grin and a Nord-sized wave. Every head in the street swiveled around to look back at Darnand. As he made his way through the interested crowd, Darnand tried to console himself with the thought that at least today was not a market day.

[haute ecole rider]

If I ever get thrown into prison, Jerric's the cell mate I want! Even if I'm male!

Poor Darnand. At least they put him in with Jerric, and not Bog Trawler!

“When you’re bare and bent over with the law investigating your person, that’s when you know you’ve done wrong. I’d swear that of any folk of all races, prison guards have the thickest thumbs.” Jerric winked. “At least I hope that’s what they use.”

Just surprised to see that kind of talk here, that's all. But very, very appropriate, given the situation (both in the story and the fact that it's on a PG-13 forum!).

Erratic behavior from one’s cellmate was not comforting, Darnand decided

Hey, at least it's Jerric!

“A mage can enhance his strength and abilities. I could cast a feather spell and drag you with two fingers.” Darnand thought that the cell had become a little smaller.

“That’s going to be impressive when you’re with a lady. ‘Just a moment, love, I must enhance my strength and abilities. I shall cast a spell to make you less of a heavy burden.’ Women love to hear stuff like that. Hey, maybe you could wear an enchanted—”

"Give me a moment hon. Got to whip out the pump." What?? I'm leaving!

The betting game was funny, as was Darnand's thoughts about the reason for Jerric's bottomless appetite.

Then he prayed to lose his hearing as Jerric endlessly filled the bucket, humming a jaunty tune.

You mean Darnand doesn't have a spell for that? At least it's the bucket, not the corner!

As his senses returned, he realized that he had joined the long and doubtlessly colorful parade of people who had been spooned by Jerric. He crawled away with a cry and staggered against the wall as his sleeping legs failed to support him.

Perfect timing! My mouth just happened to be empty of tea as I read this!

“Darnand!” he heard Jerric shout behind him a moment later. He turned and looked at him down the busy street. “Just keep doing it like I showed you in prison!” Jerric made a motion that indicated pushups. From the looks on the faces around him, Darnand suspected that the gesture was being widely misinterpreted.

Jerric gave Darnand a cheery grin and a Nord-sized wave. Every head in the street swiveled around to look back at Darnand. As he made his way through the interested crowd, Darnand tried to console himself with the thought that at least today was not a market day.

A perfect ending to a bawdy, rollicking and funny tale!

[D.Foxy]

Grits, if you keep on getting bawdier than me, I really think I must sue you for copyright infringement.




...AND inflicting greivous injury on LCD screens through induced beverage expectoration...

[King Coin]

Chapter 10.7
Looks like Jerric’s initial plan of going to the waterfront is coming around anyways. Not sure about the fighting though. That might be out of town.

So funny that Maelona is warning Jerric to be on his guard in a place he frequents.

I didn’t see that one coming! Jerric recognized the guard! Hilarious!

He pulling in Darnand?

[SubRosa]

Abiene's habits never changed? So who was she sneaking off to boff on the beach before Jerric arrived? Keeping your romantic liaisons secret from the people you live with is not very easy, especially not for a long time. They see you coming and going all the time and notice when you are not there. Not to mention most people who are in a positive romantic relationship tend to behave in a much happier manner all around. While the people in the bad ones do the opposite. Add the fact that they went on several public dates, and well, it is really hard to miss. Although I do not really see why either would go to the effort of keeping it a secret? So far as I can tell Abiene has nothing to lose, and Jerric does not seem like someone who normally shows discretion with any of the women he is with (although granted, most of them seem to be prostitutes).

I’ve been in and out of here so often I’m surprised they even locked the door.


Well, Darnand's night in prison was not so bad. Well, not counting the Nord spooning part.

It was good to see a mention of Daedra. I was wondering when they would begin to show their ugly heads again.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Aug 18 2011, 02:29 AM

[Acadian]

What a fun romp through the Anvil jail!

You certainly do a masterful job of portraying the stark differences here betwen two of your leading men. Bravo, Grits.

'Jerric popped up and grinned at him. “You live all day inside your mind, but this meat has to carry you around.” He dug a hard finger into Darnand’s arm. “What will you do when you’re too weak and spindly to pick up a book? What if you have to pull me out of a ruin? I’d like to think you could at least help me home if I exhaust myself in a brothel.”
As a lifetime devotee of physical fitness, I can think of no more eloquent way of stating the case.

[King Coin]

Chapter 10.8
I never thought of magic having a particular smell… except conjuration. Do shock spells smell like ozone?

Be careful, I don’t want to put it on and experience fire damage
Understatement.
I actually was wondering if it was possible to constantly fuel an Atronach (or anyone really) with 100% magic absorption and an enchantment with magic damage on self. I haven’t tried it yet.

I really like the effect the Sigil Stones are having on them when they use them. They look like evil. I had one in a display case and the constant humming from the thing drove me crazy.

Meridia… One of the Deadra I like. Anyone who has necromancers killed is good in my book.

@ Darnand’s reaction to the job.

LOL! Going to get another lunch at the other guild!

Chapter 10.9
Talking about all the food and I missed DINNER. I was doing fine until now.

[mALX]

GAAAAK !!! URK !!! "Why is this lockpick so ... brown? ... er ... What's that smell?"

Poor Darnand! He is not suited for this kind of place ... and I'll bet Carahill will take Jerric's head off for causing his incarceration !!

This line had me rolling:

Jerric had a unique sense of duty for a repeat offender.

Awesome Write !!

[King Coin]

Chapter 10.10
Beer and a brawl sounds great, but training is definitely a better use of your time. I’m glad that it is at least occurring to him to train now rather than the whole train of thought ending with “I want beer.”

The “sparring” is a really good idea. I know I’ve trained with summons before.

Oh Jeez. Foolish redguards. Does make the story interesting however.

[King Coin]

Chapter 10.11
“Stop right there, criminal scum!”
you HAD to use that line! I even heard the Imperial Legion in my mind!

Never been silenced before Jerric?

Whoa! Down and empty handed! Just when I thought he was victorious too!

LOL! @ walking into the Flowing Bowl

Well some lessons learned. He won’t overlook those items again.

[Grits]

Folks, no story update this time. I just want to answer your very much appreciated comments.


haute ecole rider: I don’t think Jerric could imagine a higher compliment than an offer to share his cell. I’m so glad you enjoyed Darnand’s little walk in Jerric’s boots. I think Jerric did manage to make it less horrific for his friend. Apart from the cuddling.

D. Foxy: Oh dear Foxy, you know you should keep a towel handy!! I hope the damage was reparable.

King Coin: I thought Maelona’s line was funny too. He is the one she’s warning him about! Oh, Darnand is in for some new experiences. I was thinking that fire spells would make a smell, but I now think shock would, too. I haven’t tried that damage to self/100% absorption thing. Would it run out of juice because it’s an attack? Funnily enough, Darnand has a similar idea for a scroll/spell. Eventually we’ll see if it works out.

SubRosa: Thank you very much for bringing up those questions. Those are some fundamental things that I thought I had addressed through the story, but what I hoped to convey has not come across. I trust my characters, and I know I’m telling the right story. I would like to learn how to tell it better. Would you say that the events are not believable, the characters are acting in ways they shouldn’t, both, or something different? It would help me to know which parts I need to communicate better.

Here’s how I see the issues that you mentioned:

Why doesn’t everyone know that Abiene has been sneaking off to boff Jerric? Everyone she lives with sees her coming and going between the guild hall, the healing hall, and errands in town, just like always. No one from the guild sees her going to the beach. We’ve seen her using her spells to prevent that. They’re used to her being somewhere else a lot of the time and keeping healers’ hours. Carahil already knows, and as Abiene’s boss she’s the only one who keeps track of Abiene’s free time. Darnand looks for her in the morning and at meals, and she’s there. Gulitte spies on her when she’s doing yoga, and she’s there. Felen talks to her when she comes in at night if he’s still awake, just like always. It’s actually pretty easy to deceive people who trust you, and Abiene has a lot of practice. She must have slipped up at Jerric’s house at least once for Bog Trawler to have seen her there, but Jerric doesn’t think it’s general knowledge or he wouldn’t have jumped on Bog Trawler to shut him up.

How can anyone miss what’s going on, since they’ve been on several public dates? Well, they haven’t. One of the things they discuss is that they have so little time together, they spend all of it naked. They spent part of one Loredas together in public. Abiene worked at the healing hall that morning, then they visited the market, ran into Thaurron at the garden house, walked through the marsh, Abiene declined to get sweaty on top of the lighthouse, they went out to dinner, then Jerric swapped Abiene for Darnand at the guild hall and went on the Sirens job the same night. All that time Jerric treated her exactly the way Darnand did at the ball. Also the way Felen, Thaurron, and Gulitte treated her. Holding her cloak and offering an arm are just courtesies. Nothing in their behavior would suggest she was dating much less sleeping with any of them. It would also not be unusual for Abiene to spend some leisure time with a guild mate, especially one who needs some emotional support. That’s what she does, we’ve seen several people mention it. If she had spent the afternoon with Rhano, people might look for romantic intentions. Even then, I can’t see anyone assuming that going out to dinner once means that she must be having sex with her date.

Why doesn’t everyone notice that she is extra happy/sad? Jerric is the only one who sees her happy, that’s something we saw them discuss. Mostly their relationship makes her exhausted and conflicted. People have noticed that she is wearing herself out, and they have commented about her working too hard. Given the state of affairs in Cyrodiil, everyone is upset. Her best friend noticed the light in her eyes, as he put it. Otherwise she’s just as stressed out as everyone else.

Why are they bothering to still keep it a secret? This is pretty important to understanding Abiene. She explained her reasons for discretion, and they haven’t changed. Jerric only keeps it quiet because Abiene asked him to. I hope I have shown that he would not betray her trust. Neither of them thinks they have a future together, so they would gain nothing by revealing their past. Abiene would have to admit to some very slutty behavior, her mother would be furious, her sister would be embarrassed, and her friends would be hurt that she had deceived them. Abiene has said that she considers Anvil to be her home. She wants to preserve her Anvil reputation, not damage it. Jerric explained the hopelessness of their situation when he returned to Anvil, before he slept with her again. If they had a chance to someday be together, they would have a reason to date openly and deal with the consequences.

Again, thank you for sharing the holes you see in the situation. If current events sound implausible, then it’s likely that more of the story will also ring false. I would like to know how to communicate my characters better, so that I’m not trying to build part of my story on a broken foundation.

New business: The Anvil Dungeon Jerric Suite comes with a hairy, half-naked Nord blanket. No extra charge. I’m glad you mentioned the daedra. This is a good time for a reminder.

Acadian: If Darnand had to walk to Bruma with a pack on his back, this would be a much longer story. Thank you for drawing attention to Jerric’s fitness evangelism. As I’m sure you know, it’s his way of caring for Darnand.

mALX: You’re right, Carahil’s vision of running a clean hall does not include her mages doing the walk of shame from the dungeons! Thanks, mALX!!

Where we are: Jerric and Darnand have embarked on their road trip. We’ll catch up with them in the next update. A reminder about the timeline: Jerric was in Anvil for a little under a month. According to the way time passes in this story, it has been about a week in the Deadlands since he closed the last Gate.

This post has been edited by Grits: Aug 20 2011, 04:57 PM

[King Coin]

Chapter 10.12


Took me a second read through to figure out where Vidkun came from then I was oh. So that’s what happened.
Chapter 10.13

“Yeah. I mean, folk look at you and think, ‘Here’s a nice woman. Sweet face and the hands of a healer. Dibella must love her.’ They look at me and think, ‘There goes a man on his way to a killing. Maybe he’ll stop and do some raping first.’ So I start off with a smile.”


Ah crap. The fact you included the attack of grief is genius though. I really haven’t thought of his family much and this was a perfect reminder.

Question game turns into a serious discussion. I’ve never really found fortify spells very useful. I might give them a go again though. Maybe with Aravi?

She's happy that she can really help Jerric

[King Coin]

Chapter 10.14
I really liked meeting Thaurron. Hearing about the trouble his imp gets into is great!
Haha Jerric wants to run away from the song written about him. I guess I don’t blame him.
that was hilarious meeting the prostitute!
Lovely scene at the lighthouse.

Chapter 10.15
Woohoo! The quest begins.
Good manner is short supply at the Flowing Bowl? Lol.
Things are not going as planned it seems. Typical
A f------ daedroth??? I can only imagine how horrific that scene was.