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

[Destri Melarg]

Every time I come back to this you’ve added ten pages!! I’ll be back once I’ve caught up.

[King Coin]

Chapter 10.16
…go in search of the apple pie that followed. Our Nord failed to join us this evening, so there may be a piece left.” They shared a smile. No mortal ever loved pie more than Jerric.
Couldn’t help but grin at that.

Hearing of the fights at dinner gives the bland NPCs of Oblivion some welcome character.

Thaurron and Sparky are quite the pair. I’m glad you included them.

Aliene, what a mess… and speaking of messes it’s a good thing you didn’t see Darnand. Freaking Daedroth ripping people to shreds. What was really weird was how calm he was. Probably was gibbering on the inside.

Chapter 10.17
Well Jerric messed that up at the breakfast table.
Darnand seems more formal than usual.
Haha funny ending!

[Grits]

King Coin: Fortify spells take some planning, so they’re very new to my game. I’m glad you liked the teacup incident. It’s easy to forget that he’s still broken. Thaurron has become one of my favorite NPCs since I started this story, even though he wasn’t so much in the game. Yep, a daedroth. Darnand could be a loose cannon at this point. You’re right about how he felt in the aftermath. Gibbering on the inside, then sort of retreating back into his formal shell, even with Jerric. Darnand’s tone has gotten more formal overall, that was my oversight in the beginning. First story.

Destri: I am honored and delighted that you’re reading. I hope very much that the story keeps your interest. Posting has slowed down lately, if that helps.

Where we are: Jerric and Darnand have embarked on their road trip. You might notice a departure from game mechanics. Please do not try this in the game.



Chapter 12: Return to Kvatch, Part 3

Jerric knelt in a doorway high in the Sigil Keep, looking in at the pillar of fire. The livid, membranous floor told him he had reached the uppermost chamber. Two staircases with steps like severed claws arched up to meet on the next, open level. Above that, Jerric knew there would be two ramps to the final platform where the Sigil Stone hovered in its frame, powering the Gate.

He watched the pink glows moving above him. Too many life signs. Too many daedra. He had already used Jone’s Shadow to pass invisibly between two deadroth outside the main tower, and his last invisibility potion got him through a gathering of armored dremora in a lower chamber. His gut lurched with fury at the memories. Now he had to avoid another fight while every part of him howled for justice. The potion he had made from pears and wisp stalk caps would give him additional speed, but it would also cause him some pain. Best to take while it would not distract him, he decided. He reached into his daypack for the vial.

His ring showed him the shapes of two daedroth and two dremora on the level above him. The platform at the top was too far for him to detect the signs of any daedra. There’s usually at least one up there, he thought. Maybe more this time.

Jerric drank the potion and tucked the vial back into his pack, gritting his teeth against the stab of pain. It wasn’t bad this time. He guessed that the shriek from his torn back must be drowning out his smaller discomforts.

The pacing daedra finally arranged themselves to his liking. Jerric cast the spell to improve his speed, then brought his scamp to the front of his mind as he crept up the claw stairs, concealed by the next level’s overhanging lip. Exhaustion weighed his limbs despite the spells. The thrumming fire provided cover for the noise he must be making.

A furious voice like grinding metal told Jerric it was time to run. He summoned his scamp as he launched himself up the final steps and into full view. The two daedroth and a dremora mage stood to his left, no closer than a dozen paces. Precious scrambled up facing that direction, already throwing a flare. The shouting dremora charged around from the right, drawing its sword. Jerric would have to pass one way or the other to reach the leathery ramps. He ran toward the warrior.

Lightning cracked behind him over the fire’s roar. Jerric dodged the dremora’s shield bash and kept running around the tower, looking over past the column of flame to see Precious fight. He heard the armored dremora behind him, but he knew he was faster.

Both daedroth had engaged with Precious. One lifted the scamp and simply ripped it in two at the waist, sending it back to the Void. More lightning arced toward Jerric from the mage’s staff. He saw that it would hit the wall behind him as he ran. A glance upward showed him his last enemy.

A storm atronach. The daedra was already making its way down one of the ramps. The large rocks that made up its body came apart, beginning to rotate around its indistinct center. Jerric jumped onto the other ramp, almost skidding off as he reversed his direction. Get the Sigil Stone, he told himself.

Roars and thundering feet from below told him that the daedroth had joined the chase. Shock energy angled past him again, and he heard a furious screech over the fire. He slid to a stop on the platform and reached into the inferno for the humming stone.

Even through his surcoat and mail, the stone’s vibration seemed to seep into his bones. Jerric drew his sword as the storm atronach approached up one ramp. A daedroth’s fanged snout became visible as the monster climbed the other, roaring. Its companion was right on its heels. The Sigil Stone’s frame cracked behind him, and the platform lurched. Jerric felt the stone begin to pull him back into the collapsing pillar of fire. It would draw him down the heatless flame and back out through the Gate, he knew. Or he could stand and make his end.

Jerric stepped toward the daedra. “Come on!” he screamed, raising his sword.

White flame took him in a blinding rush. He became a wisp inside a vortex, without substance but drawn by the racing stone. Motion abruptly ceased with a sound like the world breaking. He opened his eyes to a sun-drenched hillside. Legion soldiers and Kvatch militia stood in a meadow. And there was Darnand.

Jerric found his feet as noise erupted around him. A Legion captain moved up to stand beside Darnand and the Kvatch officer. Their words melted into the cheers, and over it all Jerric thought he could still hear the fire.

Redeemer felt heavy in his hand, so he sheathed it. There were too many faces gathering around him, and he still felt like he should fight. He looked over at the distant trees until it passed. The soldiers begin to move down the hill away from them. Away from the Gate, Jerric remembered. He looked to the side where black spikes jutted out of the cracked soil, like the ribs of some abomination that had somehow grown there.

A meadow lark’s song was the first sound that made sense. Then Jerric realized that the Legion captain was speaking to them. “We’ll keep a guard on this site until we’re told otherwise. You men will be safe if you camp here tonight.” The captain looked like he wanted to say more, but he just extended his arm.

Jerric clasped the captain’s forearm, then the Kvatch officer’s. He hoped he wouldn’t need to know what the men had been saying.

The captain turned to Darnand as he stepped back. Respect and gratitude remained on the captain’s face. “Magister.” The men exchanged a nod before the officers strode away.

Darnand took the humming stone and handed Jerric a water skin. After a few moments, Jerric followed him down the rise away from the Gate. Green stickle bushes stood out against the winter-brown grass. They passed legionaries piling brush against a stack of skinned corpses. Jerric realized that they must have been scamps.

“Looks like you had a fight after I went in,” Jerric said.

Darnand pointed further down the hill, toward the Gold Road. Dremora lay in a row, stripped of their armor. Their chests had been opened. “The fire atronachs don’t leave much behind,” he said. “Just some residue on their armor. We thought the whole hill would burn at one point. Then it rained.”

Now Jerric noticed the darkened swathes. The ground under their feet was dry. They were following a path trampled into the grass. “How long was I in?”

“Three days.”

“I count less than a day my time. But it’s hard to tell.”

Jerric remembered climbing this hill from the road, up toward the blazing Gate. Three days ago, he told himself, trying to make it real. He drained the last drops from the water skin.

When they neared the Legion encampment, Darnand veered off toward some trees. “Our camp is over here,” he said. Jerric could hear the weariness in his voice. “Though I haven’t spent much time in it.”

Jerric dropped his gear and knelt near the bedrolls. “Help me.” He gestured to his back, stripping off his gauntlets.

Belts and buckles came off, and Darnand lifted the surcoat away. He hissed behind Jerric as he pulled at the mail. “Daedroth?”

“Daedric longsword. Some kind of enchantment. Felt like it sliced right across.” Now that his eyes were closed, they felt too heavy to open. Darnand pulled the armor and then the padded tunic over Jerric’s head. The stiffened cloth scraped his neck.

“You made a mess when you healed your back,” Darnand told him. “Lie down. Gods blood, Abiene is going to kill you.”

You know you’re tired when you’re glad to smell your own bedroll, Jerric thought. Then exhaustion took him.

Jerric woke some time later to mist and the aroma of kahve. The light told him it was either dusk or a new day. He raised his head and looked around.

“Morning,” said Darnand. The Breton held their wooden mugs. Steam rose into the chilly air.

Jerric struggled to a seated position. Sharp pains and deep aches told him he was not finished with his healing. He spotted his boots and greaves near the fire. “Thanks,” he said, nodding at them. “I guess I don’t remember that part.”

“You were not fully awake for it.” Darnand handed him a mug. “Legion brewed. They are breaking camp. The militia has already disbursed. Their cook expressed his admiration by packing some meals for us.” Darnand sat across from Jerric, placing a large bundle between them.

“Whatever we pull out first, we’re calling it breakfast. Where are the horses?” Jerric took a sip of kahve before he opened the bundle.

“They await us down by the road with the Legion riders.’ The Gate site will be watched. The further intricacies of their explanation slipped away from me as soon as they were voiced.”

“I’d wager those fellows have a standard procedure for shaking off their sticks. Can’t argue with their results, though.” He took another sip of kahve while Darnand dug for their meal. “Did you find the hearts in my pack?”

“No. I moved your things, but I left them arranged the way you dropped them.” Darnand held out two biscuits. “Cheese or sausage?”

Jerric took both biscuits. “We should make some healing potions while we’re comfortable here. I guess we’ve gone through our supply, some of those soldiers looked like they were in rough shape. Anyway, Flash doesn’t like daedra hearts in his pack. This way when we hit Kvatch, we can just do your task for the guild.” Jerric watched Darnand for a moment while he chewed. He wondered where his friend had stashed the Sigil Stone. As anxious as he was to ask about it, he thought Darnand might be more impatient to tell him.

Darnand balanced his biscuit on his knee and took a sip of kahve. A small smile crossed his face as he looked up. “An enchantment to fortify your very life’s energy. Or one that can pull the life from your enemy, and use it to heal your wounds as you strike.” His knuckles whitened on the mug, and he leaned forward a little. “Any enemy, Jerric. Regardless of its immunity to the elements. It will even absorb the energy that animates the undead.”

Jerric grinned at his friend. “You sound like you’re ready to take up the sword.”

“Or the spear, mace, or hammer. We could even enchant your axe.”

Jerric sucked in a breath. “Your staff! It’s just a stick now, but we could enchant it for you! Darnand, you might actually survive if we enchant your staff!”

Darnand placed his mug on the ground and stood, taking a bite of biscuit. He retrieved his staff and handed it to Jerric.

“I retract my remarks,” Jerric said with respect. The staff was chipped and darkened in places. Deep gouges had been scraped out of the wood.

“Scamps,” Darnand said, sitting back down. “I survived.”

Jerric placed the staff aside and returned to his breakfast. “So we’ll argue about it later.”

“I shall reserve some time this afternoon.”

Jerric looked down over the meadow as he drank his kahve. The mist had sunk to the road, and he knew that soon the sun would burn it away. Ash pits showed where the Legion had burned refuse from the battle. Jerric could see the remains of the Gate high on the hill. A breeze shook the bare branches above them. Their position provided shelter and a view. He knew they couldn’t be more than a ten minute walk away from water. “Let’s camp here again tonight,” he suggested. “I need to clean my gear and make some potions. You could probably stand to wash your socks. If you work on my back some more, I’ll let you try to hit me with your staff. We can crack our teeth on Legion biscuits for dinner and start for Kvatch before dawn. We’re less than half a day away.”

Darnand gave him a knowing look. “And if the Gate should open again, you will be here to close it.”

“Yeah,” said Jerric, standing. “Plus I need to get my head straight before… Say, look in my pack and get out my mortar and pestle. Felen gave them to me for Saturalia. You know, since I made Master of Alchemy.” Jerric couldn’t resist the little dig. “I’m going to take a piss and check on the horses. Try to get over being jealous before I get back. Give me your mug, I’ll see if they have any more kahve.”

By the time Jerric returned with the kahve, Darnand had filled the water bucket and gotten the fire going again. He sat with Jerric’s mortar and pestle resting in his lap. The white stone glowed faintly, even in daylight.

Jerric handed over the mugs and went about gathering his supplies. When he settled by the fire, Darnand’s hands were still idle.

“Stone from an Ayleid ruin,” Jerric told him. He began to work on Atronach’s Redeemer. “Try it. I have some aloe vera pulp you can use with the hearts.” He wondered how his friend would adapt to working on the ground beside a campfire instead of on a table at the guild hall.

Darnand held the pestle in his palm. “I can feel the magicka in this stone. I wonder what the original enchantment was.”

“Maybe something to keep it from weathering away for thousands of years. Do you think the stone helps make the potions stronger?”

“I believe it does. It seems to enhance the alchemist’s ability to draw the mystical properties from the ingredients. Someday I believe that enchanted apparatus will do the mystical work, and alchemy will simply become a skill accessible to all, such as baking. I wish I could live to see such advances.”

“I know,” said Jerric. “You could turn yourself into a lich. Not an evil one mind you, a nice one that doesn’t have to take time to eat or sleep and gets to read all of the books that folk will ever write.” Jerric watched Darnand carefully as he ran his fingers over the sword hilt, feeling for wear and damage.

Darnand’s voice was mild, but his face showed irritation. “All of my life I have been told I do not adequately express myself, I do not ‘communicate.’ Now you greet my most idle thought with suspicion.”

“Who told you that?”

“Women.” Darnand’s annoyance darkened into a scowl.

“You should get to a brothel, Darnand. A prostitute will never say that sort of thing to you. One word at a time is usually all they need to hear. Well, sometimes two.” Jerric looked down the blade, checking for nicks.

“Of course that is what I should want,” Darnand snapped. “A dead-eyed woman whose skin is a map of abuse to which she has agreed, perfumed to cover the smell of other men’s leavings. A prostitute would fill every empty corner of my soul.”

Jerric felt genuinely revolted. “I guess I never looked at it that way.”

“No doubt your whores are different.”

“No. I won’t bug you about it again, in jest or otherwise.” Jerric decided that Batul was likely to swear at him when he handed over the sword. Perhaps he should show her the shredded mail first, in a bid for sympathy.

Darnand was silent for a few moments. “I might have been overly judgmental.” He passed a hand over his forehead. “I am afraid that my sleep was not restful.”

“You were honest, and you don’t have to apologize for that. You can tell me anything. I can’t say I won’t tease you about it, but I’ll quit checking to see if you’re wearing a necromancer’s robe under your gown.” Jerric thought that restful sleep was likely part of the past, at least for awhile.

Darnand snorted. Jerric decided that for this morning, not frowning was as good as a smile.

This post has been edited by Grits: Aug 26 2011, 12:09 AM

[Acadian]

’Jerric knelt in a doorway high in the Sigil Keep, looking in at the pillar of fire. The livid, membranous floor told him he had reached the uppermost chamber. Two staircases with steps like severed claws arched up to meet on the next, open level. Above that, Jerric knew there would be two ramps to the final platform where the Sigil Stone hovered in its frame, powering the Gate.’
What a well-crafted opening! Like a superb appetizer. You provide plenty of answers while instilling a hunger to read more.

Well described deadly encounters up in the Sigil Keep.

’Darnand took the humming stone and handed Jerric a water skin.’
This struck me as what Jerric would consider a fair trade. Those Deadlands are so hot that I must agree.

I then promptly forgot about the Sigil stone and focused on the wonderful interactions outside the dead gate at the campsite. It took me rereading the passage where Darnand is describing the Sigil Stone a couple times to sort out what Darnand was talking about. At first, I thought he was trying to tell Jerric about some new fangled magic. Once I figured out he was talking about the Sigil Stone, I thought the description of its twin/alternate effects was extremely well put. The lead up, where Darnand is anxious to tell Jerric something, was just a tiny bit too subtle for this old paladin to clue on. For me, when Darnand was balancing his coffee and buiscuit would have been the time to perhaps having him turning the Sigil Stone in his hand instead so we would know what subject was coming. More likely my simple reading skills rather than your fine writing.

I loved the banter between Darnand and Jerric, especially in the latter parts of this episode.

This post has been edited by Acadian: Aug 25 2011, 01:54 AM

[Grits]

Acadian: Oops! I changed it to this:

Jerric watched Darnand for a moment while he chewed. He wondered where his friend had stashed the Sigil Stone. As anxious as he was to ask about it, he thought Darnand might be more impatient to tell him.

That was not supposed to be a mystery. I was so focused on explaining the enchantment, I forgot to mention the stone. Thank you so much for pointing that out!!

[D.Foxy]

Hmmmm, another deep and insightful episode by Grits.

The true test of whether a writer can write - I've said if before but I'll say it again - lies in whether his/her characters haunt the waking imagination of the reader.

Jerric haunts mine. And now Darnand, and Abilene, are beginning to do so, too.

[mALX]

Hmmmm, another deep and insightful episode by Grits.

The true test of whether a writer can write - I've said if before but I'll say it again - lies in whether his/her characters haunt the waking imagination of the reader.

Jerric haunts mine. And now Darnand, and Abilene, are beginning to do so, too.

"Abilene...Abilene...prettiest town that I've ever seen. Women there don't treat you mean, in Abilene; my Abilene..."

[mALX]

Very powerfully written chapter, and the uneasy quasi-bickering between Jerric and Darnand to relieve the tension was absolutely perfect and appropos for the aftermath of the beginning of the chapter - Awesome Write !! Of course my fave line is (the perfuming to cover the leavings of the previous...) - sounds like a lot lizard that works the local truck stop around here, lol.

[ghastley]

I must admit I find it easy to forget that Jerric's become a Master Alchemist is a by-product of his Atronach birth-sign. It struck me as strange that Jerric the sword guy is helping Darnand the magic guy with his Alchemy on the first reading - I need reminding.

“Cheese or sausage?”

Jerric took both biscuits.

Perfect!

[D.Foxy]

Hmmmm, another deep and insightful episode by Grits.

The true test of whether a writer can write - I've said if before but I'll say it again - lies in whether his/her characters haunt the waking imagination of the reader.

Jerric haunts mine. And now Darnand, and Abilene, are beginning to do so, too.

"Abilene...Abilene...prettiest town that I've ever seen. Women there don't treat you mean, in Abilene; my Abilene..."

BAD GIRL!!!!

[SubRosa]

Ah, back to the gates again. I am half surprised that Darnand did not go in the gate with Jerric. Although given the stealth that Jerric was using, perhaps Lildreth would have been more assistance? It is nice to see someone sneaking past the daedra, and then just making a quick dash for the sigil stone, rather than simply killing everything they come across.

We can crack our teeth on Legion biscuits for dinner
Hardtack!

and alchemy will simply become a skill accessible to all
Or just like enchanting, which only requires you to put your coins in the slot, and then pull the levers for the enchantment you want.

[King Coin]

Chapter10.18
What’s with Jerric’s bizarre reaction? I’m afraid I’m not entirely sure what happened there.
Oh boy. I understand why she wants to keep the little outings a secret and why he feels like she’s ashamed of him (which she may or may not be, but I suspect she doesn’t want certain people to see her with Jerric).

Careful with the knees!

[Kazaera]

And hurray I have caught up!

First off, congratulations! Jerric's character type is one I usually... not necessarily *dislike* but find it very hard to identify with. But you've added on enough of your own touches and enough small twists on and subversions of the big hulking brute archetype that I'm very interested! I also love how we see a lot of development on Jerric's part, in particular in the influence that Kvatch has had on him - I literally cried through some of those scenes, you know! - and how he deals with Oblivion Gates. I *love* the tactical assessment and planning he does with Darnand and Rhano, as well as the fact that Jerric still isn't strong enough to deal with everything... and on the Darnand front can I say how nice it is to have some companions for the lone hero of TES games! There's no reason why he shouldn't have a partner, after all.

Regarding this chapter - I'm seconding what's already been said about how it's nice to see a hero sneaking and *running* for it and just grabbing the stone instead of killing everything. And this bit made me laugh:

Jerric sucked in a breath. “Your staff! It’s just a stick now, but we could enchant it for you! Darnand, you might actually survive if we enchant your staff!”

Darnand placed his mug on the ground and stood, taking a bite of biscuit. He retrieved his staff and handed it to Jerric.

“I retract my remarks,” Jerric said with respect. The staff was chipped and darkened in places. Deep gouges had been scraped out of the wood.

“Scamps,” Darnand said, sitting back down. “I survived.”

(oh right, speaking of which, one last thing that really struck me when I was reading - Chillrend, and in particular how Jerric lost it. Because that sort of misadventure doesn't really happen in-game, I think it's easy to have our characters stick with the same cool equipment until we find them something better. Having Jerric stumble across a cool magic sword, and then lose it, and not immediately find something better - that was a cool touch of realism!)

[King Coin]

Chapter 11
It’s not loot it’s salvage. Lol.

Fort Strand is coming up! Now I’ll see who the archer is.

Darnand seems to be coming around again. He doesn’t seem to mind the questions about necromancy.
And he’s fallen back into his tutor role for Jerric.

“Why didn’t we ride to Whitmond?”
Astonishment flooded Darnand’s face. “You invited me to walk to Whitmond with you.”


Giving a skeleton summon a better weapon sounds like a really neat idea.

Chapter 11.2
“You’ll be able to stand behind me and shoot between my knees,” Jerric told her.

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

I really like this Bosmer.

These plans are almost as fun as execution. Precious the scamp? I had a picture of Gollum appear in my mind.

I hope Lildereth becomes a regular character.

Chapter 11.3
and an excellent target for a prank
I like Jerric’s line of thinking

Excellent passage. When the bosmer went ahead Jerric got jumpy. That’s so like him.
And yes a shorter blade will be much more useful in the cramped cave.

I’d love to move on right now but I’ll have to save the zombie butchery for another time.

[King Coin]

Chapter 11.4
I think Darnand’s daedroth would be extremely effective against the zombies, but maybe we don’t want the mess and memories associated with that particular summon.

Very enjoyable action sequence. I would think that those would be very difficult to write. I pictured the whole thing in my mind quite clearly.

Jerric and his customary clearing of his stomach. I’m glad the bosmer either was polite to not comment or understood.

Fantastic ending. His fingers twitched, waiting for him to fill them with frost.

And it just occurred to me, Lildereth is very different from the usual Mage’s Guild member. She mixes magic with stealth and combat quite effectively. It seems the Dark Brotherhood would be a better fit for all but perhaps morals.

Chapter 11.5
Wow that was fast! The tree of them made short work of that crew.

Oh and my favorite line of the chapter: Jerric snorted. “Kept her head.”

I spoke too soon! “I expect it also saves her from numerous social obligations and encumbering friendships,” Darnand remarked softly.
Darnand just scored more points in my book!

These past few episodes have been wonderful!

Chapter 11.6
The fight against the skeletons was a lot of fun. It’s nice seeing everyone doing what they can to fight, even Lildereth lending a hand.

Lildereth went into this sounding a lot like a mercenary, meaning I wasn’t really counting on her to do anything when the fights broke out. Her little flare toss in the middle did a lot to reassure me.

Those three make a great team.

Then at the end Darnand’s appetite for knowledge catches up with him.

[Grits]

Acadian: Thank you for your kind words about the opening paragraph. That was the last part of this section to come together. I knew I wanted to jump right in, but without completely disorienting everyone. (Like I did later. ) I’m so sorry about the confusion when Darnand started in about the Sigil Stone without any warning. Some new fangled magic is the perfect first guess as to what he was talking about, given what we know about him. I’m thrilled that you thought that, even though I’m sorry about the head-scratching I gave you. I really didn’t mean to! This is a good lesson for me to remember when he is bringing up his new ideas. Thank you for drawing it so gently to my attention.

D. Foxy: I have occasionally wondered what the hell I was thinking, trying to tell this story. Maybe I should have started with a story about a bake sale. Thank you so much, Foxy.

mALX: I’m laughing about the lot lizard. There are some times when sunny optimism can work against you. Is this meat still good? is one of those times. Also, Should I hit that? If you have to ask... Thank you for pointing out the tone of their morning chat. They’ve reached the point where they can be grumpy with each other and not have to worry about misunderstandings. The three days outside the Gate were hard on Darnand.

ghastley: Darnand would like to forget that Jerric has surpassed him in alchemy. I added this:

Say, look in my pack and get out my mortar and pestle. Felen gave them to me for Saturalia. You know, since I made Master of Alchemy.” Jerric couldn’t resist the little dig.

I’ll try to remember to put a reminder in when Jerric starts slinging massive spells around, too. That would also be impossible without his birthsign. Thank you very much for mentioning this!!

SubRosa: Our Apprentice birthsign mage is not Deadlands ready, but I’m glad you mentioned the possibility. Three days of fighting daedra with the soldiers taught him a lot. Lildereth wouldn’t risk the Deadlands for Jerric. She would wish him well, remind him of his boot heels, and melt into the trees. Besides, she has the dog to think of. Jerric is not the most qualified, he’s just the most willing. Thank you for pointing out his new, conservative tactics. He’s learning!

King Coin: Jerric has a big problem with illusion spells, because they trick the mind into believing something that isn’t real. When he realized what Abiene’s light spell was actually doing, his first impulse was to deck her so that it would stop. Of course, it wouldn’t have ended the spell and thankfully he stopped himself, but that was his gut reaction. This is one place where he would agree with Rhano about magic. You are right about Abiene’s unspoken reason for not openly, um, dating Jerric.

Chapter 11, now you’ve met Lildereth! I’m glad you like her. The walk to Whitmond was a facepalm for Darnand. Preoccupied and overconfident can be a bad combination! The daedroth would have torn through the zombies, but they were still trying to be as stealthy as they could. I imagine a daedroth’s roar would echo throughout the ruin. Plus they were supposed to be practicing not burning each other to death or disemboweling each other in combat. You are right about Lildereth’s somewhat menacing skill set. She’s the stuff of Jerric’s nightmares. That flare toss meant a lot to the other two, I’m glad you pointed it out.

Kazaera: Welcome to the story!! I am so delighted that you are reading, especially since Jerric might not be your usual choice of hero. I appreciate you looking past the big, hulking qualities and giving him a chance. I hope very much that he and his friends can keep your interest.

I’m glad you liked the Chillrend mishap. It was the perfect sword for him, and I still feel bad about taking it away. But it added much more to the story for him to lose it, so it had to go.

Where we are: On the way to Kvatch, the Jerric and Darnand found a Gate. Jerric closed it while Darnand assisted the Legion’s and Kvatch County Militia’s defense.



Chapter 12: Return to Kvatch, Part 4

Jerric rode along the Gold Road, looking up at the Kvatch plateau. The city walls stood stark against the midday sky, no longer softened by the great trees that once grew inside the south wall. On my street, Jerric thought. Outside my windows. He had the feeling that his now and before weren’t really connected. They couldn’t both be real.

A word from Darnand brought him back. It doesn’t matter what he said, Jerric realized. Just that he said something.

“Kip,” Darnand said, nodding at Jerric’s mount. “Clesa chose well for you.”

“Yeah.” Jerric gave Kip’s neck a pat. The tractable gelding did not challenge Jerric’s limited skills, and he and Flash seemed to have a settling influence on Banner. Moments later they reached the junction and turned the horses toward Kvatch.

Before they reached the first switchback, they found traffic halted at a wooden barrier across the road. There was room on either side for a wagon to pass, one going in each direction. A man in leather armor waved a woodcutter with his loaded cart through the right side and on toward Kvatch. The two archers in front of Jerric and Darnand walked through next, showing the soldier some papers. The man’s black wolf armband told Jerric he was a member of the Kvatch militia. His spotless jerkin and fresh face marked him as a new recruit.

The soldier looked up at Jerric and Darnand, holding his palm out to halt them. They waited while an empty ox cart rumbled past on the other side of the road. “Papers?” he asked in a friendly tone.

“No,” said Jerric.

“All right, then.” The youth gestured through the barricade. “You’ll need to get your permits at the next checkpoint. New security procedure, keeps out the scoundrels and riffraff. No one breaks the law in Kvatch these days, at least not more than once. Will you need to board your horses?”

Jerric nodded.

“There’s no stable at the plateau,” said the guard. “Are you familiar with the old wholesale market?”

“Yeah,” said Jerric. “I know it.”

“Well some of it’s still market space, but most of the back is taken up now by the militia encampment. If you go past Butchers Row you’ll find the road around to the livery stable. It’s the same as before. You’ll need your papers to get any farther up the road, and I doubt they’ll let you…” The soldier’s voice trailed off when his wandering eyes found Jerric’s Wolf shield. He stood silent for a long moment looking at Jerric and Kip, then over at Darnand on Banner, and finally at Flash. “I expect they’ll let you ride all the way into the throne room, if you like, sir,” he gulped. His wide eyes held more than Jerric wanted to see. Jerric nudged Kip back into a walk, leading Flash through the barrier. Darnand and Banner followed.

When they stopped outside the livery stable, a Bosmeri lass approached to hold the horses. Jerric guessed from her relatively clean boots and slight frame that she was not in the muck-shifting end of the business. Darnand started toward the stable office to make arrangements, by their unspoken agreement. Jerric couldn’t shake the feeling that suggesting a lower price to a merchant was the same as calling him a liar, while Darnand seemed to believe they should work as hard to keep their coins as they had to earn them.

Jerric’s eyes followed the road to where it disappeared around the bluff toward Tannertown and Pottersville. He guessed that the new Running Wolf stables must lie in that direction.

“Will you be staying in the city?” The Bosmer looked up at Jerric with a smile as quiet as her voice. Her eyes, skin, and hair were all almost the same light brown. That coloring would be dull on a human, Jerric decided. But there’s no way to make a Bosmer un-lively, once the cheer comes out in them.

“Yeah,” he replied. “I’m Jerric.”

“I am Tilenwen.”

“Pleased to meet you. We’ll be here about a week, probably. Maybe less.”

Tilenwen nodded to their packs. “You should bring your gear up with you, it is likely that you will be more comfortable in your own tent. I will be happy to accompany you to the plateau, then bring your pack horse back to the stable.”

“That’s Flash. The bay is Banner, and this chestnut is Kip. Sounds like a good plan, Tilenwen.”

“Kip is a flaxen chestnut,” Tilenwen corrected him. Her voice seemed to hold the horses in some kind of thrall as she spoke to them.

By the time Jerric had shifted their saddle bags, Darnand had returned with an Imperial stable boy. The lad walked away with Kip and Banner while Flash nickered after them. Tilenwen led them back to the Kvatch Road.

Not far up the switchbacks they encountered a more heavily guarded barrier. Tilenwen directed them to a small, orderly group of tents set off to the side. One had a rough table placed in front under a simple canvas awning. Jerric and Darnand joined the line waiting to give their names to the official seated at the table. This tent had a wooden platform floor, framed walls, and pitched ceiling covered in canvas panels. Jerric decided that the rows of wedge-shaped tents in the encampment must be used for sleeping, while these framed tents were where most business and living were conducted.

The men stood silently, moving with the line until it was their turn to step forward. “Name?” asked the Dunmer woman at the table.

“Darnand Penoit of Anvil in County Anvil, mage, Associate of the Mages Guild. I wish to visit Kvatch on Mages Guild business. I intend to stay for several days, at the least.” Jerric realized that while his mind had been wandering, Darnand had been paying attention.

The mer wrote in her ledger, then retrieved a paper from one of her stacks and filled in the blanks. She rolled it and handed it to Darnand. “That covers it. Here is your visitor’s permit, keep it with you. You will need to see me again if you are here for longer than one week. Enjoy your stay.” Darnand stepped to the side, and the mer’s eyes went to Jerric. She took a moment looking over the various weapons he had belted and strapped about his person. “Let me guess. Lace maker?”

Jerric cleared his throat. “Jerric of… Kvatch. Battlemage. Associate of the Mages Guild and Apprentice of the Fighters Guild. Uh, the rest is the same as his.”

The Dunmer’s quill remained frozen in the air as a series of emotions passed over her face. She ended on consternation. “Sir, if you are a city resident, you do not require a visitor’s permit. Apologies. Are you returning to live in Kvatch?”

Jerric wished he had thought to say he was Rhano from Anvil, though he supposed the Wolf on his shield would object. “Uh, not at this time. What do you need to know?”

“Nothing,” she said, still flustered. “I will issue a permit in case someone asks you for it, but Steward Matius will want to give you residency papers. I am certain that by tonight, no one will question you again. There is a curfew inside the city. After sundown everyone must remain indoors unless they clear it with Captain Inian. The plateau and lower encampment are patrolled night and day, your goods will be safe where you leave them. Work and sales permits are issued by Steward Matius or the Guilds. He will want to see you anyway, sir. If you have any mail, it will be with the Steward.” She rolled up his permit and handed it over the table.

“Thank you,” Jerric said. He found that space opened around them as they made their way to Flash and Tilenwen. Jerric and Darnand showed their papers to the guard, then tucked them away as they walked through the barricade.

Tilenwen chatted as they moved into the old refugee camp. She gestured to the rows of tents that lined the south and east sides of the area. “Here is where the builders dwell. They have their own cookhouse, tavern, and laundry. Many wish to send for their families and become residents of Kvatch, but Steward Matius will not allow it until conditions are safer inside the walls. It is a source of some contention.” She nodded to the row of tents that backed up to the cliff side. These were the taller, framed and walled type. “Here are the smiths, cooper, wheelwright, the armorer… You must know Batul, Jerric.”

“Yeah.” Jerric decided to wait to give his gear to Batul. After was the only way he could think of it. Dread weighed each step, even as it pulled him up toward the city.

“Watch out!” Tilenwen cried as a mule cart rattled past. “Pee wagon. The drains to Tannertown are still blocked. You can follow your nose to the privies, but the tanners will be happy if you use the piss pots when you can.”

Jerric glanced at the barrels in the wagon bed, then shared a look with Darnand.

“I thought it was said that dreck rolls down hill,” Darnand remarked. Jerric couldn’t laugh, but he appreciated his friend’s effort.

When they reached the plateau, Tilenwen led them to the side and halted. Jerric looked around, taking in the changes. No sign of the Gate remained but the hardened ground in front of the city gates. All of the dead trees had been removed. The city walls showed no signs of fire, but the damage where the siege crawler had gone over the walls was still evident. The city gates had been replaced. They stood open. Jerric forced his eyes away.

“Welcome to Kvatch Village,” said Tilenwen. She began to point out the landmarks. “There are your market tents, around that little square. Over there to the east is where folk sleep, and the laundry is at the back on the edge of the plateau. There is a new well on that side. The big fire is Carmia’s Cookhouse. That long tent is the meeting hall. All are welcome there.” Now she pointed to their left. “Over there is where you will find most of the guild representatives and some of the craftsmen. They hang their banners outside, or anyone can direct you. The Mages Guild operates inside the city. You will find the bathhouse and brothel at the far edge, near the old well.” She indicated the broad, open area between the road and the city gates. “Here is where the supply wagons stop, even the ones who unload inside the city. It would be a poor place to set up your camp.”

Carmia’s Cookhouse, thought Jerric. That’s a good place to start. He didn’t have any words, so he started piling their packs off to the side, out of the way.

Darnand thanked Tilenwen with some coins while Jerric gave Flash a farewell carrot and a rub on the neck. Darnand stood beside Jerric for a moment before he spoke. “I suggest we speak to an official before we decide where to locate our tent.”

“Yeah,” said Jerric. “I have an old friend to visit before I go in to the guild hall. You start without me. I’ll catch up.”

Darnand gave him a long look. Then he nodded and walked off toward the city gates.

Jerric went directly to the big fire. It was actually several low fires grouped together, each with some cauldron or spit arranged near it. The spits were empty, but Jerric’s nose told him that there was venison in at least one of the pots.

Carmia’s face creased into a smile when she saw him. She tucked her spoon into a deep apron pocket and put out her arms for a hug.

There’s something different about her, Jerric thought as he set her back on her feet. He realized as she pulled away. “You don’t chew garlic anymore!”

“Not with a chapel nearby, I don’t have to worry about everyone’s diseases. Among other things.” She crossed her arms under her bosom and got right to the point. “You were right to send me here. Lavina goes to school in the mornings, and afternoons she helps me or the weavers. She carries Jerric the Doll in a pouch on her back. Says she can’t wait for the babies to start coming, she’s going to open a nursery so their mamas can work. She makes scratches in the dirt with a stick, showing all of her plans. Faustino is a hunter, I couldn’t get him to stay in school. Mostly keeping the rats out of the ruins with that sling you gave him, but some down in the woods. He’s training with a bow. That Altmer fellow from the Guard is teaching him.”

“Merandil?”

“That’s right, of course you know him. Faustino says the day he turns eighteen, he’s going to put on the Wolf, if they’ll have him.” Carmia wiped her eyes on the edge of her apron. “My boy in the city guard, Jerric. You know I did what I had to so I could get by. Who would think a child of mine would stand tall for what’s right.”

Jerric had a hard time believing it himself. Gnoll’s Meeting Camp had been the home of a vicious bandit clan before Carmia and others there fought to change it. Much of her life was a tale of lawlessness and violence.

“Well, don’t let him get ahead of himself,” Jerric said. “Tell him he’s a scout. If he sees a Gate somewhere, he needs to stay alive and bring word to the Guard. Not take on a bunch of daedra with a sling.”

Carmia nodded. “I tell him the like every morning that he goes off the plateau. That boy is his father’s son, though he never knew him.” Jerric saw her mouth close on the rest of what she was going to say.

Jerric nodded toward the city. “What’s going on in there?”

“It’s bad, I won’t pretend otherwise. I’ve done some shifts in the ruins, as much as I can. Those that are from here, some you can tell by their empty eyes. We won’t see it set right in our lifetime. Steward Matius can explain the plans, I wouldn’t know much. But I can tell you folk are broken down with sorrow, and some don’t want to live. Matilene has men that come to her just so she’ll hold them while they weep. Irmarus Hetarian jumped off the plateau on North Wind’s Prayer, don’t know if you knew him. A few have wandered away, but I expect the rest aim to stay here.”

“Yeah.” Jerric looked at his boots, ashamed at which group he belonged to. “I guess I’ll go along now. I’ll see you later when you ring your dinner bell. You said Matilene’s here?”

Carmia hugged him again. “She runs the bathhouse and brothel, though for now it’s just tents.” Carmia gestured to the plateau’s far western edge with one arm, her other still wrapped around his waist. “Over there. Go see her, you could stand a bath.”

“I will. Thank you.” Jerric disentangled himself. “It’s good to see you here, Carmia.”

Carmia stepped back, wiping her eyes again. She lifted her chin with the pride he used to think was just stubbornness. “I already know you won’t be staying this time. But I live in Kvatch now. I’ll be here to welcome you, when you come back.”

Banner and Kip

This post has been edited by Grits: Aug 31 2011, 06:57 PM

[Kazaera]

Oh wow, this was *amazing*. Seriously, I am in awe. How things have changed with more people coming in, the refugee encampment expanded and becoming more permanent, how they're starting to move back into the city and new tensions that have arisen... then the way people react to Jerric as a Kvatch native, his shame at being one of those who left along with the evident pain this place carries for him that means he just can't stay, and also the talk about how the loss has affected other Kvatchians... this is such a perfect picture of Kvatch at the start of the monumental task of rebuilding.

(One thing I wasn't quite clear on when I was reading was why the security in terms of permits and all that? I thought about it and guessed that they must be trying to keep out looters, gawkers and other people who wouldn't contribute, but I might be wrong and I found the question distracting from the story.)

Finally, the last sentence was just absolutely perfect. Carmia - and not only her, I'm guessing - knows that Jerric can't stay yet but will be here when he's ready.

[haute ecole rider]

Thank you, thank you, thank you!

This is what Kvatch deserves, after being so ruthlessly slaughtered then abandoned and ignored by Beth developers. I always hated that even fires didn't stop after the Crisis was over. It always made it difficult to role-play much past the end of the MQ on the 360. Now that I'm playing it on the PC (Mac), I can't wait to load up Kvatch Rebuilt and restore that poor town!

You have done a bang-up job showing the monumental task confronting the survivors and the issues facing them in the days and years to come. I loved seeing Carmia again, and hearing about the kids. How wonderful that Jerric was able to convince her to come and make a new start in the ruined city. Kvatch (and my favorite hero, Savlian Matius) needs all the good people they can get.

I look forward to more. Oh, and loved the screenie of Kip and Banner.

[Acadian]

What a well-done return to Kvatch, showing the slow progress of rebuilding! You clearly show us what is going through Jerric's mind without him having to tell us.


Let me offer you a couple quotes:

’The Dunmer’s quill remained frozen in the air as a series of emotions passed over her face. She ended on consternation.’
‘Darnand thanked Tilenwen with some coins while Jerric gave Flash a farewell carrot and a rub on the neck.’

You captured me with both of these because they so nicely highlight your skill with natural description and connective action. You show us what is going on in a delightfully creative way.

[King Coin]

Chapter 11.7
He buried the mort flesh? I appreciate the sediment but Darnand has a point. Then again Aravi won’t even collect the stuff.

Zombie rats. Lol. Reminds me of a book I read. Sound like quality literature already doesn't it?

Master alchemist! Darnand is going to be jealous.

Darnand gave him a critical once-over. “Dampen your hair and comb it. You could stand to scrub your neck. By all that is good in this life, I pray you have brought a different shirt. Your trousers are adequate, though you should try to keep your legs under a table if you must wear them. You smell… acceptable.”


Darnand is such a wonderful character.

Sounds like Lildereth is a typical bosmer in that regard.

And I just passed my first comment! I must be getting close to caught up.

Chapter 11.8
I bet Lildereth regrets letting Jerric have access to her lockpicks!

I thoroughly enjoyed Darnand’s little prank. And Jerric’s comments of Lildereth riding in his pack

You claim this is your first story? You lie!

Lildereth’s in a good position to tag along with Jerric and Darnand… if she could possibly stand to lol.