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

[Grits]

King Coin: When Jerric gives you a sandwich, you know you’re in his inner circle. Thank you for pointing out the differences between how Darnand and Jerric would approach this situation. And as you saw, Lildereth has had an influence, too.

ghastley: I think it’s safe to say that Jerric would be an intuitive cook, but an unsuccessful baker. Thank you for the nit, I clarified it.

SubRosa: I thought about whether or not Cyrodiil’s wolves would den in dry caves, since they have scarier predators to contend with than Earth wolves do. I decided that they might, especially now that daedra have come calling. The poor things probably thought that the closed door was a wall until Darnand came through it. You’re right, they would not have come through an imp colony and a closed door. As Darnand speculated, there must be another entrance close by. Of course, he was thinking of his own future cave lair requirements.

Acadian: You’re right, so far Lildereth’s teaching has kept Sigrid from having to send the next guild hopeful after a dead Breton! Thank you for your kind words about Darnand. I can totally imagine him looking at a puppy while fingering an empty soul gem and thinking, hmm, I wonder how much magicka… I always wonder if he will see the line before or after he crosses it.

mALX: That he might share Slythe’s fate is not something that has occurred to Darnand, you’re right to be worried! Jerric should learn to say the important part first, but he probably thought that the thing about the mustard was the important part. Thank you, mALX! The second paragraph was important to me. I wanted to touch on some things that would have dragged too long in the story.

Thomas Kaira: Thank you, TK! This has been a major learning experience. I’m glad you’re back.

Where we are: Darnand is searching for Slythe Seringi in Sandstone Cavern. But first, an interlude from Abiene.

The Chapel of Stendarr
Chorrol

5 Morning Star, 433


Dear Ilonea,


Thank you so much for the hair cream, it arrived just as I left in the coach for Chorrol. You spoil me, and I am all the happier for it. The scent brings me back to those joyful hours I spent at your side in our kitchens. I begin each day with the comfort of those memories.

I am settled in to my quarters here at the chapel. Ilonea, you would wring your hands to see the nest in which your little lark has landed. My chamber is all stone walls and floor, with not even a scrap of carpet to warm it. The door is heavy enough to contain a land dreugh, but I suppose it helps keep out the noise from the corridor. I have a bed that is just large enough to not be called a cot, but the mattress is thick and my blankets warm. I am allowed one candle, and my night stand is hardly large enough to hold it. I hang my gowns and cloaks on pegs, so my walls are decorated in brown flax and woolens. A Nord could stand in the middle of my cell and nearly brush all of the walls with his fingertips. I have no windows, so midday and midnight are the same once I close the door. I suppose it is for the best, as I keep odd hours and sleep when I may.

Although it sounds as if I have entombed myself here in Chorrol, my life is far from solitary. Every waking moment is spent in the company of patients, priests, and healers. I take my meals in the chapel’s great hall when my schedule permits, and the healing hall has a small chamber where we may dine and rest. The chapel’s library would make Papa clap his hands with delight. I sit here beside a lovely fire as I write. These hours are golden to me, as thoughts of loved ones bring you close in my mind. I spend more time than I would like in the compounding room. You would not be pleased to see the stains on my fingers.

But oh, I am learning. My master is a cold mer, and I have come to believe that he needs to be that way. Do you remember what happened with my little cat Stockings? Well, now I know what I should have done. A healer cannot be so soft-hearted, but it is not in me to be completely unfeeling. You told me once that I would find my own way. I have not found it yet, but I am searching.

I have mixed up a powder for you, Ilonea. You must now imagine my most severe tone, and do not argue. Drink one pinch dissolved in a cup of warm water, morning and night. One of your pinches, not one of mine. It does not taste delicious, but drink it just the same. I am afraid that it will stain your teeth if you simply take the powder. In two weeks’ time, you should feel some relief. (If your skin begins to break out in spots or rough patches, discontinue the powder and drink the contents of the vial I have enclosed. Do not ask me what is in the vial, just trust that it is as disgusting as you imagine. I sincerely hope that you will not need to drink it.)

I have also enclosed a woman’s tea for Sidette. She should drink one dose each day for ten days, beginning on the first day of her moons’ blood. I have included instructions in the packet. No, she has not confided anything to me that would suggest a need for it. However, it is far better that she should drink her tea without a reason than act on an impulse and regret it later. This is my own blend, with raspberry leaf added to ease her cramps and mint for flavor. It will taste best with a drop of honey.

Mother’s last letter seemed especially cross and threatening. I would be glad to send you something for her nerves, if you wish. Or perhaps something for the rest of you who must live with her. I know it is no substitute for my presence. I thank you every day for letting me go.


As always, Ilonea, I remain,

Your loving Abiene

___

The Chapel of Stendarr
Chorrol

5 Morning Star, 433


Darnand, my dear Friend,


I hope this letter finds you in still in Skingrad. The Imperial Post has not been slowed here by any Gates to Oblivion. We have heard of Gates opening in the West Weald, however. Please be careful.

I am bursting with ideas I want to discuss with you, but most should wait until we may speak in person. You and I are of the same mind regarding those aspects of Restoration that we recently explored. My observations here at the chapel lead me to believe that we are not alone in our views, and that there are others who might even share our ambitions. Cyrodiil once had a Healers Guild, separate from the Guild of Mages. I am anxious to learn your thoughts on that subject.

I am sorry that I am such a poor summoner. Your words come to me clearly through the crystal ball, but I can tell that sometimes you struggle to understand me. When our minds meet, it seems more like a feeling than a voice in my ears. Is that how it is supposed to be? I can see your face in the crystal, but I also get the idea of where you are, almost like a memory. I hope I am not conveying too much when we touch. I would not wish to make you uncomfortable.

By now you have shared a tent with Jerric for weeks. Please tell me the truth. Is he still having the dream? Even if he would write to me, I know he would not say. We spoke of it before you left Anvil, you are not betraying a confidence by telling me. It concerns me that you both keep placing yourselves in danger if he is still so troubled. Remember the potions and spells that I showed you, he might let you help him. I know it is not my place, but you know that will not stop me from meddling.

I miss our quiet evening walks, my friend. When I step outside the healing hall here in Chorrol, the air has teeth. I can feel the cold pouring down from the mountains at night. There are no soft sea mists here, and it seems that I last stood in Leyawiin’s heavy fog in another lifetime. I hope that you will have time to show me your old home when you come to Chorrol for your recommendation. I have heard your family’s name, but I have not sought them out. I would like to give you letters of introduction for your visit to my home, since I cannot accompany you. I want you to meet my Papa. I am certain that you and he will enjoy one another’s company. My sister Sidette will attempt to smother you with attention. You must ignore her.

I feel my magicka returning, so I must close and return to my rounds. Every day I think of you, Darnand. To think that you were once my student, and now I miss your counsel. I wish you a safe journey, my friend.


My fondest regards,

Abiene

___

The Chapel of Stendarr
Chorrol

5 Morning Star, 433


Oh my dearest Thaurron, how I miss you!


I will not tell you about my life here at the chapel. As you predicted, each lesson comes at a price. You taught me that death is merely one point on a circle, but I cannot help but think it is an enemy that I must keep at bay. Each eternal spirit may come around again, but I see too much loss and grief for those who are left behind, missing loved ones in their mortal forms.

But enough of that. I must tell you of events in my own fashion, which by the end will have convinced you to come and visit me!

You know my Papa continues to send me a stipend, though my needs are few and easily met. Here in Chorrol, he sends it to the care of a shop owner by the name of Seed-Neeus. This worthy lady is an Argonian living in the Colovian Highlands, if you can believe it. Her daughter is as unique as she, but I will get to her in a moment.

Seed-Neeus has a guest cottage adjacent to her shop. It backs up to a beautiful little park with the most glorious oak trees. It is quite private, even though many of Chorrol’s residents walk through the park instead of around on the streets. I rent it myself when I have a day off from my duties at the chapel. It is so pleasant to soak in a scented tub all alone by the fire, then stretch out with a book and a glass of wine on the feather bed.

But it would be so much better if you were there, too! Please say you will come. Seed-Neeus says that Sparky will be welcome, and there is nowhere in the cottage that he can hide his naughtiness. It is selfish of me to even ask it of you, as I have nothing to suggest for the hours I would be working. Except this:

Seed-Neeus has a daughter. Her name is Dar-Ma. She is the merriest, most kind-hearted girl I have ever known. Do you remember my brown quilted bodice with the green trim? She made one just like it for herself. She told me that she wants us to be close, since neither of us has a sister in Chorrol. That would sound strange coming from most folk, but this girl is so bubbly and charming, I could only be pleased. Thaurron, I am convinced that she is an Argonian born with the soul of a Bosmer. You simply must come and meet her! She will show you this gracious city through her eyes, in a way you have not seen it before. I know she will cheer you.

How are things in Anvil? Is there a new Breton for Marc to ogle through the walls? Has Carahil reassigned my bedchamber yet? What has Sparky stolen, eaten, or shredded?

This package holds a few little gifts for you. You should unwrap one whenever you’re feeling down, that is unless you have already opened them all before reading my letter! The silk scarf is for your imp. I meant to leave it for him to remember me by, but I was upset when I was packing and forgot.

On the subject of packing, you must remember to bring your cloak with the fox fur collar. I will not try to tell you that it is warm here.

I am missing you terribly after only one week, and shamelessly hoping to see you soon.


All of my love,

Abiene

___

Abiene sealed the last letter and set it aside. One more blank sheet of parchment rested on the writing table.

Jerric, she thought. My heart. I ache for you. I fear for you.

Her fingers twisted in her lap instead of reaching for the quill. She found that her sadness knew no words.



Abiene in Chorrol

This post has been edited by Grits: Oct 12 2011, 07:39 PM

[Thomas Kaira]

Ooo, we're peeking at mail now?

The first letter paints a very detailed picture of what life is like in the Chapel of Stendarr. I have no doubt in my mind that it would be quite frigid up the way of Chorrol at winter, especially for someone who has lived most of her life in subtropics.

In the second letter, we get a taste of her deep concern for Jerric. Half the letter is about him! I would expect no less mollycoddling from one as compassionate as Abiene, though. Here we see her lovely personality dripping through every pore of the parchment as her hand scribes the ink. You just can't read this one without being touched.

In the third letter... I think Thaurron really would enjoy Dar-Ma! I also think I see a bit more between the lines.

How are things in Anvil? Is there a new Breton for Marc to ogle through the walls? Has Carahil reassigned my bedchamber yet? What has Sparky stolen, eaten, or shredded?

I just love that Abiene never frets over the usual things. This passage speaks hugely to me of her dedication to her work.

Then we have the last bit. Poor Jerric, he's the only one not getting a letter this Saturalia! But I wonder what Abiene is so torn up about?

This post has been edited by Thomas Kaira: Oct 10 2011, 01:37 AM

[Acadian]

What a beautiful interlude - and one well worth pausing even the great Darnand cave caper for. It was wonderful to hear from Abiene again, and in her own candid intimate words to dear friends. You really made her shine here and reminded us of how very endearing she can be! The subtle variations in her tone to the three friend was so very fitting of the way you have portrayed each relationship.

And we see that Jerric really does hold a big piece of her heart.

’When I step outside the healing hall here in Chorrol, the air has teeth.’
Oooh! I really like your wording here. How wonderfully evocative.

[SubRosa]

So Abiene went to the chapel? Did she quit the Mages Guild and become a priestess? Or does the guild have some sort of arrangement with the church where they share members (and presumably share in payment)? It is an interesting idea, and I can see why you would use it. The game presents the chapels as always being a place to learn restoration after all. The idea of a Healer's Guild separate from the Mages Guild is interesting too. Although such a guild would not only compete with the Mages Guild, but also with the Chapels. So it would have a tough time staying in business. There is a mod that adds one, was that your inspiration?

Or perhaps something for the rest of you who must live with her.
Perhaps a little poppy juice?

So Abiene and Darnit are using a crystal ball telephone? A mphone (the m for magicka of course)? An interesting idea. It is something one can see the Elder Council and Legion use to maintain control over so vast a place as the Tamriel.

I know it is not my place, but you know that will not stop me from meddling.
Now that is a female!

the air has teeth
This is a wonderful description of cold mountain air.

An excellent trio of letters, each showing us a different side of the writer. We each have many personas, different modes of behaviour that we adopt, depending on whom we are with. There is the person we are at work, the one we are with our friends, the one with our parents, the one with our children, etc... You gave us a wonderful view of three facets of Abiene's personality, one per letter.

I also did not fail to notice that nearly half of her letter to Darnand was about Jerric. I wonder if Darnit will notice as well?

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Oct 11 2011, 12:20 AM

[mALX]

ARGH! So we are not to learn of Darnand's fate? URK! Still hanging on the cliff here, lol. Abiene's letters (if anything increased the tension of Darnand's situation for me due to their timing) - very like what I've come to know of her so far.

The funniest (to me) was the tea designations - (don't tell her it is for any REASON) - so I'm assuming Sidette has a PMS issue that she is touchy about, ROFL !!

The Jerric letter - that one will be awfully hard to do, since she can't exactly put what is in her mind/heart down on paper for all the world to (possibly) read - because once something is in writing, somehow it is always found and read by another - usually the worst possible person to come across it for either the writer or the recipient (or both), lol.

Great Write, even if it still leaves us in limbo as to Darnand's safety !!! (ARGH! URK!!!)

[King Coin]

In Chorrol, Abiene’s quarters sound like a cell! If this was in Bruma however I think it would be cozy. When I think of Chorrol I think of sunlight and fresh breezes so no windows would be torture.

Is the chapel’s library anything like the library in the Mage’s Guild hall there? That library is wonderful.

I didn’t know Abiene was a mail order pharmacist.

I’m guessing Ilonea is a sister?

The warning to Darnand about Sidette is hilarious! Some competition going on there?

The bit about Seed-Neeus and her daughter was nice. Those are two NPCs that Aravi likes. As you know she doesn’t make many friends, but they are just too kind.

Poor Abiene doesn’t know what to say to Jerric. I hope she can find some words.

[TheBrume]

I love your writing Grits. You describe things brilliantly, I can easily picture Pottersville or Sandstone Cavern in my head. And I love how you sprinkle humor into your writing, it makes it that much sweeter.

I particularly liked this:

Returning with help might be excessive if the mer had simply tripped and bumped his head. It seemed likely from his writing that he had bumped it at least once before.

It gave me a good chuckle.
Anyway, I hope to read more of Jeric and Darnand and Abiene soon.

[Grits]

I added a screenshot of Abiene in Chorrol to the last episode.

Thomas Kaira: Indeed, this Breton is about as far removed from the Wrothgarian Mountains as one can be. She can’t be there to coddle her friends, so she’s bossing them around from afar. Thank you for your kind words about her! Abiene is just missing her man, and upset that she doesn’t know what to write to him. Plus she’s seen what the next few years look like for her, and it will be a far cry from her life in Anvil. Add that to the cold climate and a serious endorphin withdrawal, and you get one unhappy Abiene.

Acadian: Thank you, Acadian! I felt like I should have introduced her with, Meanwhile, up north in Chorrol… In her own words is exactly right. I had to wait for it, but then she just took over. Thank you for noticing her differing tones as she coaxed, cajoled, and scolded her loved ones in her own way. It warms my heart that you find her endearing.

SubRosa: Yes, Abiene has given up her cushy job with the Mages Guild, but not her membership. Moving to Chorrol to learn surgery and medicine was a major decision for her, and a big risk. Carahil gave Abiene her personal recommendation, but I didn’t mean to give the Mages Guild any pull with the chapel. I got the idea for a Healers Guild from the Heavy Armor skill book Fighters Guild History, 1st Ed.. “In the 321st year of the 2nd Era, the Potentate gave his approval to the Guilds Act, officially sanctioning the Mages, together with the Guilds of Tinkers, Cobblers, Prostitutes, Scribes, Architects, Brewers, Vintners, Weavers, Ratcatchers, Furriers, Cooks, Astrologers, Healers, Tailors, Minstrals [sic], Barristers, and the Syffim.“ Of course I read this long after I started my story. My idea is that the Healers Guild could have been assimilated into the Mages Guild at some point, explaining why no one has mentioned it in the story. My thinking was exactly what you pointed out, the healers would be in competition with the MG and the chapels. Thank you, SubRosa!

mALX: I’m sorry! I do feel bad about leaving Darnand on the cliff, but not bad enough to cross Abiene when she’s being forceful. Sidette’s tea is for birth control, but it will also help with her period problems. I didn’t know how to make it clear without spelling it out, which Abiene would not do. Ilonea would know exactly what Abiene’s “own blend” was for. She was telling Ilonea that Sidette had not announced that she was sleeping with anyone, but Abiene took it upon herself to provide some of her own precautionary measures to her sister. Her thinking is that at age twenty and still unmarried, Sidette should be prepared. Also since she can’t be there to look after people, she sometimes feels the need to boss them around. You’re right, Abiene could easily write the kind of letter that would cause a situation in Jerric’s pants, but that would be pretty risky. Thank you, mALX!

King Coin: A cell, exactly, Abiene has gone from luxury at the guild hall to novice quarters at the chapel with no windows and no fireplace! She’s also gone from making a good living to being a student again. She does get to use the chapel’s facilities, though. I did have that beautiful Chorrol MG library style in mind for the chapel as well. Ilonea is the Metonne’s housekeeper who practically raised Abiene. She’s mentioned in Jerric’s Story, but she appears in person in Home for the Holidays. You’re exactly right about Abiene’s sisterly jealousy when she imagines Sidette fawning over Darnand. Even though she tells herself she’s not interested in him anymore, the claws are out.

TheBrume: Hello, and welcome! Thank you for the compliments. I’m glad you’re enjoying the story. I’m also very glad that you’re posting your own story here!

Where we are: Darnand is searching for Slythe Seringi in the depths of Sandstone Cavern.


Chapter 12: Return to Kvatch Part 10

Darnand made his way cautiously through the chambers and tunnels of Sandstone Cavern. Many seemed to have been carved through the rock by streams of water, long gone. He found the wolves’ entrance through a fissure in the rock. Daylight shone down, though he could not see the sky. He would have to scrabble through dirt on his hands and knees to use that exit, but there was plenty of room for him to pass. Wolves were considerably larger than Bretons.

The cave’s rats filled his soul gems with their dying energy, and the giant spiders skittered away from his flares. He discovered several side passageways, but all contained the ubiquitous webs. Even after months, Serinigi’s path seemed fairly obvious. Until he reached a cavern that was devoid of any sign of life.

Darnand felt his magicka returning as he searched the chamber for Seringi. After the abundant cave life above, it was odd that no creatures had made their home here. Even the empty caves had held bones, dried dung, and the shreds of nesting material. This cavern seemed sterile by comparison. He began to think that He Who Shakes the Ground might be a real entity.

The next corridor led down to a high-ceilinged chamber with a canyon running through the middle. Darnand found himself standing at one end checking for glowing signs of life on the ledges above. A few steps showed him that the chasm reached a dead end against the far wall of rock. A bundle of cloth on the ground caught his eye.

The body’s small, pointed ears and average frame indicated that this had probably been a Dunmer. When Darnand saw the words scrawled on the rock next to the body, he decided that this was definitely Seringi. The mer had finished his journal in his own blood even as he lay dying.

I am fallen.
I have failed.
All hope is lost.

A rough sack rested next to the body. The Offering, Darnand guessed. His dismissive thoughts about Seringi’s dedication now seemed disrespectful. Here lay a mer who had sacrificed himself to save others, Darnand included. That his death resulted from delusions made it sad, but no less noble. He tugged the blanket free of his belt.

A dull thud echoed down the passageway, followed by another. Darnand froze. More impacts followed, slowly approaching along the passageway through which Darnand had entered. Now he could hear a sharp crack with each one, like boulders striking together. There was no doubt, this had to be He Who Shakes the Ground. Darnand dropped the blanket and cast his invisibility spell.

His muscles felt rigid, but his thoughts flew. He should be safe while he remained invisible. His jump spell would get him up out of this narrow canyon, but he had no idea if he would find an exit beyond those ledges. He might be able to slip past the Sunken One without it noticing him. That was a better plan. From the echoes it seemed that the creature had almost reached the canyon’s entrance. Darnand stooped down and picked up his walking stick.

His arm shimmered into view as he rose, and the rest of him followed. A furious, trumpeting cry split the air.

Oh, sixteen hells, thought Darnand.

The far end of the canyon was now blocked by a being comprised of floating boulders revolving around an insubstantial center. It resolved into a bipedal shape and then dissolved into swirling rocks again. Shock energy crackled over its entirety. Each stone was at least the size of Darnand’s torso. A quiet part of his mind observed that the Sunken One was in fact a storm atronach.

The atronach spread its arms out to the sides, then brought them together with a crash. Darnand dropped flat on his chest next to Seringi as a mass of lightning bolts passed over him. Every hair on his body stood on end. He cast his panic spell as he scrambled back against the canyon’s dead end. Two more of the atronach’s steps shook the ground before Darnand’s view was blocked by his summoned daedroth.

The atronach trumpeted a challenge, answered immediately by the daedroth’s roar. It great tail thrashed against the chasm’s walls as it shook its shield spell down over itself. Darnand was grateful that it had lurched into this realm facing away from him. He found that he was cringing against the wall on his backside with his knees up, hands clamped over his ears.

The massive daedra came together with a crash and a roar. The daedroth reeled sideways into the wall, scattering Slythe’s body into pieces under its churning feet. Darnand caught a glimpse of the flailing storm atronach beyond it. Slipping past the fight was not an option. Darnand took a gulp of Jerric’s potion and brought his illegal spell to the front of his mind. He snatched up the walking stick and kicked off hard from the ground as he cast the jump spell. Another bolt of shock energy passed under his feet and cracked against the wall. It sees me, Darnand realized. He scrambled against the rock lip, clawing himself over the edge and onto a flat area. Another lightning bolt hit the cave ceiling, sending a shower of rock down somewhere beyond Darnand’s sight.

He glanced back down in time to see the daedroth backhand the storm atronach and send a blast of fire breath into it. Good enough for now, he thought, rolling away from the edge.

Darnand hadn’t seen any life signs when he scanned these upper areas. He secured the walking stick across his back as he eased along the ledge. The noise from below deafened him. More corridors were visible at this level on both sides of the canyon, but he couldn’t be sure where they would lead. Darnand decided to drop behind the battling daedra and flee the way he came in. His jump and vision spells were still active, and thanks to Jerric’s potion, his magicka was returning at an encouraging rate.

Darnand jumped down behind the atronach just as it loosed another shock spell at the daedroth. The daedroth’s howl covered the sound of his awkward landing. It had been difficult to practice a spell that he was not supposed to know.

As he straightened in the tunnel’s entrance, Darnand realized that the chamber was suddenly quiet. He turned to look back down the canyon. The atronach stood alone. Its rocks began to rotate as Darnand watched, horrified. It resolved back into its form facing in his direction.

Darnand ran.

Halfway up the tunnel, he cast his invisibility spell. He summoned his scamp as he reached the middle of the next chamber, cursing as the action caused him to flicker back into view. The thundering steps behind him paused long enough for the scamp’s dying shriek.

Darnand’s pace was too frantic to attempt any fortifying spells. He didn’t have the magicka to bring back his daedroth yet. Darnand cast invisibility again as he pelted up another tunnel. But this time he took a giant gulp of potion first.

The next chamber had plenty of cover. Darnand slid to his knees behind a rock. His throat burned as he gasped for breath.

The storm atronach’s progress through the tunnel was alarmingly fast, but comfortingly noisy. He ran through the spells he wanted to test for Jerric. A spell to give his target a weakness to magicka followed by a spell to weaken it to fire should result in an increase of both the fire weakness spell’s potency and the strength of any fire attack that followed.

The daedra thundered to a halt a dozen paces from Darnand’s position. He decided that casting three complicated spells while under close-quarters attack from a storm atronach was folly on the magnitude of sparring with a daedroth. He waited until the potion restored his magicka, then he gathered his legs under him.

Darnand cast the spell to bring his daedroth back from the Void, then turned and bolted while the daedra were still challenging one another. He remembered the spell to fortify his speed as he ran, but he had to pause in order to cast it. Before long his labored breathing drowned out the sounds of battle behind him. His feet took him unerringly to the wolf entrance.

He dropped to his knees in the opening, casting restorative spells as quickly as his magicka allowed. He strained to hear any sound of pursuit. After a few moments, the shaking eased along with the cramp in his side. Scrambling up the dirt tunnel might bring the whole thing down on him if he was not careful, but he did not want to escape a storm atronach only to get swarmed by imps. He took another swig of Jerric’s potion. Relief trickled in with the magicka.

Darnand began to wonder at the storm atronach’s nature. Could it have been summoned long ago by some wizard who lost control of it? Where did it get the energy necessary to sustain itself? Had Slythe himself summoned it so that it would take his Offering? Perhaps it only appeared when a mortal entered its lair. Yet the absence of wildlife suggested a persistent presence.

A summoned atronach would not become a corpse. One that had somehow bodily entered this realm would leave remains.

Darnand dried his sweaty hands and pushed himself to his feet in the corridor. Many rituals involved purification with a solution of void salts. They were rare and extremely difficult to procure without arousing suspicion. It would also be prudent to put Seringi’s remains to rest.

No sounds reached him from the depths of the cavern. He fixed his daedroth in his mind and stepped carefully back down the passageway.

___

(Here’s a Darnand’s-eye view of the daedroth vs. storm atronach battle.)

This post has been edited by Grits: Oct 14 2011, 02:28 AM

[King Coin]

Well the invisibility plan was a good one… until Darnand forgot one of the limitations.

a Storm Atronach!

Daedroth vs Atronach! This’ll be fun!

I was hoping Darnand would have gotten a little farther with the time his summon bought. Good landing by the way. That would have really been bad if he ended up with a bum foot.

Danand’s inexperience is catching up to him. All those wasted invisibility spells!

Even before his escape he’s already analyzing the atronach!

Back in? I hope he comes up with a plan for it this time.

Wow that was an exciting chapter!

This post has been edited by King Coin: Oct 14 2011, 12:01 AM

[SubRosa]

Take a look at The House of Healing. It is a mod that adds a Healer's Guild to Weye.

Darnand's observation of the emptiness of the lower chambers was not only perceptive of him, but also a good piece of writing on your part. HWStG is indeed not likely to suffer packs of critters around it. At least not living packs. Something Slythe Seringi Slytherin found out.

I shared the same thoughts that Darnand had for Slythe at the end. He went out heroically, after jumping to all the wrong conclusions for all the right (if mad) reasons. But it still took guts, and selflessness, to go down there.

Darnand's reaction was both clever (turn invisible, think of ways to escape without a fight) as well as believable (his muscles feeling rigid).

I always did love the appearance of the storm astronauts atronachs (who ever came up with that atronach name anyway?). You made it seem quite daunting, with the shaking ground, gigantic swirling boulders, and the words "Big Bad" written all over it.

It was nice to see Darnand's invisibility not work. Many writers like to use at as the invulnerable shield it is in the game, and never stop to think that just as the player character can neutralize it, so should other beings as well. The jump spell was a good addition too. Is that a new idea of yours? Or are you thinking of simply a fortify athletics? In any case, it is an excellent spell for an adventurer to have. It would probably be handy in Valenwood, for jumping up into trees, or to go from one tree to another.

The battle between the Daedroth and the Astronaut turned out as I expected it would. But the 'droth did put up a good fight, and bought Darnand the time he needed to get a clear route out. Which is what he really needed. Only it looks like escape is not Darnand's plan after all. Those void salts might come in handy for rubbing on sore feet too, along with some warm water... His musing about the permanency of the atronach was spot on. How did it get there? and stay there? are the million septim questions.

That last picture looks like a Godzilla movie shot through a blue lens!


nits:
Wolves were considerably larger than Bretons.
Did you change the size of Cyrodiil wolves? Grey Wolves are usually only about 80 lbs and 3.5 - 5 feet long. Although a few rare individuals have been found much larger. If you do want them bigger, no complaints here. It would make them more dangerous opponents. If they were 6 feet long and weighed in at 200 lbs, then I could easily believe they would attack people.


A spell to give the atronach weakness to magicka
Not exactly a nit, but an observation. When I first read this I was confused, thinking you meant the atronach birthsign, and that the spell somehow conferred a weakness to magicka that the birthsign also caused. Only after reading it again did I realize you meant the Sunken One. I am not sure how many people might make the same mistake, but you might consider changing atronach to something like 'targets', 'victims', 'enemies', etc...

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Oct 14 2011, 03:23 PM

[Acadian]

Wonderfully gripping, Grits! Let me catch my breath.

’His dismissive thoughts about Seringi’s dedication now seemed disrespectful. Here lay a mer who had sacrificed himself to save others, Darnand included. That his death resulted from delusions made it sad, but no less noble. He tugged the blanket free of his belt.’
What a delightful and poignant observation for Darnand to make!

’The far end of the canyon was now blocked by a being comprised of floating boulders revolving around an insubstantial center. It resolved into a bipedal shape and then dissolved into swirling rocks again. Shock energy crackled over its entirety. Each stone was at least the size of Darnand’s torso. A quiet part of his mind observed that the Sunken One was in fact a storm atronach.’
By Mara! What a fantastically vivid description you provide here. In fact, especially when Darnand summoned his helper, you were stunningly effective at bringing both these Daedric titans to life.

’The storm atronach’s progress through the tunnel was alarmingly fast, but comfortingly noisy.’
Another smoothly efficient and evocative passage.

Right at the end, as he heads back down there, I wondered if Darnand had contracted a touch of Jerric’s ‘balls over brains’ thinking. I suppose the prospect of some void salts could tempt even the bookish Darnand to try Jerricish things.

[Thomas Kaira]

Wow, intense! Talk about finding yourself up cacat creek without a paddle! A Storm Atronach?

Good thing Darnand had that panic spell available, otherwise he would be nothing more than a pile of extra-crispy imp chips by now. I hear electro-fried is the way to go with them, but personally, I'm not interested in eating anything-a-la-Darnand.

Darnand dried his sweaty hands and pushed himself to his feet in the corridor. Many rituals involved purification with a solution of void salts. They were rare and extremely difficult to procure without arousing suspicion. It would also be prudent to put Seringi’s remains to rest.

Uh oh... is Darnand being overcome by The Adventurer's Folly? Risking one's life for the sake of valuables? I hope he doesn't let Abiene hear about this, I am very sure she would be quite less than pleased if she did.

[mALX]

GAAAAH !!! That isn't what I meant !! I was talking about her writing a deeply emotional letter that Darnand might see, which would cause a terrible rift between the two friends !!! (and if that voyeur guy found it, he'd be sure to tell everyone within earshot). URK !!

Oh no, he didn't use chameleon so when he grabbed the stick it dispelled the invisibility !! ARGH !!! Riveting story from the first impact tremor of the Atronach! Like Acadian, I found myself holding my breath and my heart pounding till Darnand was safely out ... how like him to analyze it even as he is catching his breath! But for him to go back in? ARGH !!! Awesome Write !!

[D.Foxy]

You know, I must confess a guilty secret...I always level and power up my characters to an insanely high level before getting into boss fights so that I don't quite get as high an adrenalin rush as you do when youfight bosses at a 'just adequate' level.

What you've done, Grits my girl, is as Gritty as your handle! We can all smell the battle, taste the fear, and see the action as our hero uses every bit of his skills (some not quite legal, heheh) to survive...

A very very big thumbs up!

[Grits]

King Coin: It was fun, I did a little in-game research with a real storm atronach and a summoned daedroth, since the game gives you a leveled one. They went to melee right away almost every time, the storm atronach got off at most one shock spell. The second summoned daedroth usually finished the atronach with its first strike. That cave makes a good spot for daedra battles. You’re right, a bad foot would have been the end for Darnand. The spell helped his landing. He’s getting a lot of Illusion practice in the field. Thank you, KC!

SubRosa: Indeed, unlike our gray wolves, Cyrodiil’s wolves here are bigger than a Breton. They do not behave completely like our North American wolves, either. Thank you for pointing out that confusing sentence, I changed it so that it was clear he was thinking of his target. (And not Jerric ) The jump spell comes from Morrowind, but I don’t know anything about it but the name. I put it vaguely in the school of Alteration, but that’s just a guess. A Fortify spell would have worked, too, maybe Acrobatics? I think that a lot of spells would be combinations of effects from different schools. Feather plus Fortify Acrobatics for Jump, perhaps. That mod looks like something I would enjoy with Abiene. The charges of necromancy and vivisection mentioned in the Introduction sound pretty similar to my own ideas. I’m sure she would enjoy the wardrobe upgrade. I have her in the white monk’s robes. Thank you, SubRosa!

Acadian: Balls over brains, LOL! That’s Jerric to a T. Darnand’s lapses in judgment tend to be brains over sense. I suppose that’s why Abiene was happy that the ballsy but even more sensible Lildereth might join them, though I am only now connecting all of the dots. Of course, Darnand is preeeeetty sure the second daedroth got the storm atronach. Thank you for your encouraging words. Thanks to your advice over this past almost year, I enjoyed writing this difficult part as much as any of the friendly banter.

Thomas Kaira: Yes, there is nothing about his trek back into the cavern that would please Abiene. He might even get shouted at by Jerric, who still has to run away from them. With the Apprentice birthsign, electro-fried Breton is right.

mALX: Oh, you’re so right about Abiene’s letter, anything from the heart would be too incriminating. That invisibility works great when you’re only practicing! Another way Darnand’s plans did not stand up to combat, which as you pointed out he started analyzing before it was even over. My first thought when I realized that Darnand was going back in was, this plan is not mALX-approved!! LOL. Thank you, mALX!

D.Foxy: Thank you, Foxy! I think this was my first battle with no weapons. I would not be surprised in the game if my character whipped around and started cursing me through the screen during some fights. Here’s the result of Darnand’s first game encounter with a troll.


Where we are: Darnand found Slythe Seringi’s remains and met the storm atronach called the Sunken One. We left him heading back down into the cavern to investigate the hopefully dead storm atronach. This episode concludes our Kvatch chapter. There might be a little delay before we move on. The back problem I have been griping about has escalated, fingers crossed for a Superior Convalescence spell at the healer tomorrow.



Chapter 12 part 11

“So as it turned out, the second daedroth had finished the storm atronach.” Darnand needed a moment to catch his breath. Climbing the Kvatch plateau while relating the day’s adventure had left him winded, despite his new devotion to exercise. Lildereth set a challenging pace even loaded with her pack and weapons. Ulfe padded along beside Lildereth, occasionally stopping to investigate a scent then trotting to catch back up. The three of them had not passed anyone else out this late on the Kvatch Road.

The light from Lildereth’s spell made a pool around them, but it left her face in shadow. “What did you do with the body?” she asked.

“I scraped the void salts from the individual stones,” Darnand replied. “I lacked an adequate implement, so I used a conjured dagger. I must admit to some satisfaction, binding a daedric spirit for the purpose of…” Lildereth was giving him a look. “Of course, you meant the flax farmer. I carried the pieces back and buried them at his farm. Some… residue and small bits of him remain in the cavern under a cairn I made from the boulders of his Sunken One. The grave at the farm is shallow but secure. I performed an invocation to Arkay over it.”

“What was the offering?”

Darnand was scandalized. “I do not know. I did not disturb it.”

That earned him another look. “You didn’t…”

“I did not open the sack. I simply left it where he placed it in the cave.”

Lildereth shook her head. “Yet you might have taken his very flesh and bones.”

Darnand snorted. “You refer to my treatment of the undead. Seringi’s remains had not been prepared with the proper rituals. Though some would have harvested his heart and skin for their potions.” He realized what she might be wondering. Now it was Darnand’s turn to glare. “I am not a necromancer.”

The guard at the edge of the plateau nodded them through the checkpoint from under his hood. The wind had picked up since Darnand encountered Lildereth outside the stables. Or rather since Ulfe romped up and nearly put him on his back with her greeting. Their breath made thick clouds for the breeze to carry away.

“It’s going to snow,” Lildereth observed. “If we are unlucky, we will have freezing rain. It was no accident that we met on the road. I was waiting for you. May I share your tent tonight?”

“Of course,” Darnand said, surprised. “I am certain that Jerric will not object. Though it is only fair that I should warn you.”

Lildereth asked the question with her face. He could do without her sharp tongue, but Darnand realized that he had missed some of her quieter ways.

“He is troubled by dreams,” Darnand explained. “He thrashes, shouts, and kicks like a horse. I have learned when to wake him, but a peaceful night will not be found under our canvas.”

“It’s late to make a shelter down in the trees, and I’m tired. I suppose a person cannot help what he does when he is asleep.”

“Occasionally he fondles himself,” Darnand added. “At least I think he is sleeping.”

Lildereth rolled her eyes. “I remember that from the guild hall. Dead drunk and still humping the mattress.”

They found the tent poles decorated with Jerric’s clothing. Gentle snores from inside informed them of his status. Darnand held the tent flap open, and Lildereth ducked under his arm. Darnand tripped over Jerric’s boots as he entered.

They took in the spectacle by the light of Lildereth’s spell. Jerric sprawled sideways across the tent, naked as the day he was born. His head rested on Darnand’s bedroll and one foot was tangled in his own. He had flung a brawny forearm over his face.

“Do you see a blade within his reach?” Darnand murmured. “Sometimes when he awakens...”

Lildereth snorted. “Nords.” She tugged her cloak tighter around herself. “He does not smell as bad as I expected.”

“He keeps his person cleaner than his clothing.” Darnand was pleased that he had thought to wash up at Seringi’s well. Under his soiled robe, he was ready for his bedroll. Some of Jerric’s habits had proven prudent on the road.

Jerric lifted his arm and squinted at them. “Kahve?” he asked hopefully.

“It is still tonight,” said Darnand. “Though much of it has passed.”

Ulfe crowded between them and stepped across Jerric. Her tail lashed their legs as she passed.

“Ulfe!” cried Jerric, then “Oof!” as she dropped onto his belly. Jerric attempted to rise as Ulfe rolled over onto her back. A tangle of furry limbs ensued.

“By the Nine!” cried Darnand. “Put on some trousers or sit on your own blankets! It is unclear to me how a man can own three swords, yet not a single bedrobe.”

“Only Imperials get dressed for sleeping. Anyway I wasn’t asleep. I was just resting my eyes for a moment. I was going to get back up after nightfall. It’s good to see you, Lildereth.” Darnand and Lildereth remained in the doorway until the Nord and the dog situated themselves. Jerric shifted to his own bedroll and pulled a blanket across his lap. Ulfe flopped down with her head on Jerric’s knee. He reached over her for the wine bottle. Lildereth unloaded her burdens while Darnand lit the candle.

“Do you mind if I share your tent tonight?” Lildereth asked Jerric. She sat down cross-legged with her back to the door. “I believe it is going to snow.”

Darnand watched half a dozen thoughts flit over Jerric’s face while he opened the wine. “Sure,” Jerric finally said. “I hope it snows. Might be freezing rain.” He took a swig and passed it to Lildereth. “I thought that wood elves—”

“Lildereth found a Doomstone,” Darnand interrupted before the two of them could get started. He sat down on his blankets and unrolled his map. The three of them bent their heads over it.

“Here,” she said. “And there is another one here, near this smudge. I thought I had seen standing stones there before.”

“Before what?” asked Jerric, yawning. Darnand looked at Lildereth, curious if Jerric’s clumsy fishing would net any new information.

“Before you made me reconsider my sleeping arrangements,” she replied.

“About that…” Jerric let go of Ulfe’s ear and scratched a hand through his hair.

“I have already warned her,” Darnand told him.

“Apologies in advance,” said Jerric.

Lildereth nodded to the back of the tent. “I’ll sleep behind the packs where you can’t kick me. Ulfe likes to stretch out, though. She’ll go outside if she wants to.”

The dog’s tail thumped Darnand’s pillow when they looked at her.

“We will all be warmer,” Darnand said doubtfully. The Nord and the hound made the eight-man tent seem like a double.

“Especially since Carmia put beans in the stew again,” grinned Jerric, cutting his eyes back at Lildereth.

The mer did not return his smile. “Are you planning to go into the city again tonight? Darnand told me you helped with the ghosts.”

Jerric stared down at his hands on Ulfe’s neck, jesting gone from his face. “Yeah.”

He looks even more haggard than he did this morning, Darnand decided. He shared a glance with Lildereth as she passed the bottle. “How many more days do you think you will need to spend with Vigge?” Darnand asked Jerric.

“Not sure.” Jerric ran a hand through his hair again. “A couple of the spells are complicated, and recharging isn’t easy to learn. I’ll have a better idea after tomorrow.”

Lildereth placed her fingertips on Jerric’s knee. Her tone lacked its customary edge. “You will concentrate better with more rest. Stay here tonight. Bring a large stone into the tent, and I will show you how my tribe stayed warm without campfires. Darnand will tell us about his victory at Sandstone Cavern. You can pet the dog and moan that you missed your second dinner. Stay out of the city tonight, Jerric. What you are seeking is not there.”

After a moment Jerric looked up and grinned again. “That snow excuse is a pile of imp chips. You can just admit that you missed me.”

This post has been edited by Grits: Oct 17 2011, 07:20 PM

[haute ecole rider]

First let me apologize for being remiss in commenting on your wonderful developments of late. RL and school has conspired to steal me away from here. Do not fear, I have been keeping up with Jerric, Darnand and Lildereth! (And Ulfe! How wonderful to see her again!)

I liked how you chose to gloss over the second trip through Sandstone Cave. I'm sure we've all been through it enough. It was the second quest I ever completed (after Go Fish) that didn't have anything to do with the MQ. Yet I can't help wondering if the Sunken One has anything to do with the devastation at Kvatch. OTOH, what about Hackdirt? Both Serengi's disappearance and Hackdirt have that classic Chthullu mythos about them. In any case, that quest gave me such the creeps that I played through it only once or twice since (and I've played with six or seven characters by now).

Oh, and the way Lildereth and Darnand discuss Jerric is too funny! It goes a long way to show the depth of their friendship that they would talk of Jerric so and still look after him in the throes of his PTSD. Yes, I can see that is still an issue, and ghost-hunting may not be enough to purge Jerric of those signs. But we'll see.

[SubRosa]

That was some troll! Talk about barely squeaking by.

Though some would have harvested his heart and skin for their potions
Ewww!

“I am not a necromancer.”
Not yet at least...

Dead drunk and still humping the mattress.
Well, at least he is not pooping or peeing all over it, because he thinks he is in the bathroom. That seems to be the standard drunken male activity, especially when someone else is sleeping in the bed already.

It is unclear to me how a man can own three swords, yet not a single bedrobe.
Change that to three dogs, and you have a redneck!

“Especially since Carmia put beans in the stew again,” grinned Jerric, cutting his eyes back at Lildereth.
Yikes! I think sleeping out in the snow is looking better and better...

All in all a fun episode that shows the camaraderie that has grown between the Terrible Trio since they first met.



nits:
The guard at the edge of the plateau nodded {to} them through from under his hood.
I think you might have wanted a to or at where I inserted it above.

[mALX]

Very powerful that Lildereth understood the cause of Jerric's downhill spin since they arrived in Kvatch - and that Darnand noticed it as well. Jerric's swing from the brash jokes to the (almost helplessness) glimpse of inner turmoil facing what Kvatch has done to him - another hugely powerful moment. AWESOME WRITE !!!!

[Acadian]

First, best wishes for your back and a speedy recovery.

Gosh, we had so much fun snooping over Abiene’s shoulder as she wrote her letters a couple episodes ago. Then we traveled along with Darnand for his academic assessment and evaluation of a freaking monster that shook the ground! And finally, here, you bring all but Abiene into such delightfully close quarters again!

This episode was wonderful. I’m with Rider is thinking it was nice that you sort of just ‘reviewed’ Darnand’s return to the dungeon. That provided more ink to lavish upon the wonderful interplay among your characters. I love the Quintessential Quartet of Darnand, Lilderith, Ulfe and the big fellow. The interaction among the four of them in what must have seemed a tiny tent was priceless and such fun to read! Some very touching stuff near the end.

You know that I identify so strongly with Lildereth and how you portray her. What a fabulous touch for her to allude to magically heating a large stone to help stay warm.

[Thomas Kaira]

Yipes! Sorry to hear about your back. Best thing you can do now is spend as little time on your feet as you can until you can be seen. And no heavy lifting!

I really enjoyed the back-and-forthing between Darnand, Lildereth, and later Jerric. Always bickering about something, but every time, always entertaining.

Hmm, Standing Stones, eh? Not just doomstones anymore now that Skyrim is just around the corner?

I agree with Lildereth about getting away from Kvatch. It was probably too soon for Jerric to return, considering how he is still deeply haunted by his prior experiences and suffering night terrors. He may have found closure, but I feel he is now farther away from finding peace. Seeing all the suffering within the city walls firsthand again, that's rough. He may act tough, but it is getting more and more difficult for him to hide just how torn up he is inside.

Some time away from it all sounds like a great idea.