Folks, thank you very much for the well wishes, and for your patience! After the first two weeks of Physical
Torture Therapy, I’m… still not able to sit down. But at least I’m walking. I made myself a standing work station at the kitchen counter (i.e. laptop on a pile of dictionaries), so back to the story!
haute ecole rider: The gang is here whenever you can find the time, I’m glad you’re reading. (I miss Julian, no pressure, I’m just sayin.’

) Hackdirt creeps me out, too. I have some dark ideas brewing for that quest. I’m glad you enjoyed L & D’s frank discussion about their tentmate. Instead of blaming it on the dog, these two (and Ulfe) can blame it on the Nord.
SubRosa: 
Jerric might not be the ideal roommate.
He might end up sleeping out in the snow! Thank you for the nit, I fixed it.
mALX: I’m glad you pointed out that moment where they weren’t fooled by Jerric’s clowning around. You won’t see many gentle words from Lildereth, thank you for drawing attention to her insight.
Acadian: Quintessential Quartet, I love it. Jerric does displace a lot of air in that tent. I was actually thinking of you when I wrote the part about Lildereth’s warming stone, I’m so glad you liked it.
Thomas Kaira: You and Lildereth are absolutely right about Jerric and Kvatch. He doesn’t know how to deal with guilt, and both being there and leaving again are piling it on.
King Coin: You’re so right, Jerric only teases the ones he cares about. Thank you for pointing out the difference in Lildereth’s and Darnand’s outlooks. It makes them fun to write.
TheBrume: That was the first time it was only Darnand and Lildereth, so it was fun to focus on the two of them, if only for a few paragraphs. I’m actually not even sure how long Lildereth will stick around this time, so I’m glad you’re enjoying it.
McBadgere: Welcome to the story, Brock! I’m glad you’re reading. Here’s some more.
Where we are: Darnand got his recommendation from Sigrid Firewalker, head of the Kvatch Mages Guild chapter. Jerric spent some time learning new spells and training with Vigge the Cautious, as well as helping the priests and Kvatch Guard deal with some of Kvatch’s newly undead residents. Now Jerric, Darnand, Lildereth, Ulfe, and the horses have left Kvatch, heading eventually to Skingrad. Their path is not the most direct one.
Chapter 13: Skingrad, Part 1Jerric lay on the frozen ground watching the sun set over the Colovian foothills. Magnus glowed behind a haze of pink, though the sky was clear above. Two days of snow in Kvatch had been followed by two more of melting rain. Then cold had settled back over the West Weald. Their path took them northeast from Kvatch into the rocky hills below the Colovian Mountains. Fir trees and winter-bare maples grew widely scattered here, but the ground was mostly open meadows of deer-cropped grass with patches of thigh high heather and mountain sedge.
Lildereth had found the standing stones just after mid-day. They took the afternoon to set up camp nearby and survey the surrounding area. Lildereth returned from her scouting mission with two iron swords, a haunch of venison, and no comment. Jerric considered their camp secure.
The cold ground didn’t bother him, but he could feel Darnand shifting uncomfortably at his side. The two of them had found a fairly level spot sheltered from the wind by a boulder. The Doomstones stood slightly downhill from their position. Darnand had decided to pass the time until sunset by filling in some details on his map. Jerric’s back provided the work surface.
“Try not to breathe so much,” Darnand admonished. “I could almost think that we are at sea.”
Jerric saved his comment for later. He turned his head to look at the Doomstones. The largest stone stood within an arrangement of shorter ones much like the Jone Stone that Martin had shown him. These stones also stood in a circle of ominously blackened ground. Four of the stones were roughly cruciform in shape. Rusted chains hung from metal rings set into the rock. “You know, I think those stones with the chains mark compass points,” Jerric remarked. “Look, you can tell by the sun’s angle.”
“Your back rises when you speak.”
“I wonder what they were for. Something unpleasant, I’d wager.”
“Some sacrifices are made willingly. Be still.”
Jerric snorted into the crook of his arm. “I guess some change their minds or they wouldn’t need chains. Why don’t you mark your map back at the camp? We could be sparring right now instead of just sitting here.”
“Ulfe’s curiosity would prove more ruinous than your lack of repose.”
Darnand had a point. The hound seemed to enjoy shoving her head between the Breton and whatever he was attempting to do. Jerric’s camp chores usually involved blades or a hot calcinator, and Lildereth could send Ulfe away with a look when she needed to. The burden of Ulfe’s affection often fell on Darnand.
Jerric heard Darnand rummaging in his shoulder bag. Its weight lifted from Jerric’s legs, and his friend stood up. “I have finished,” said Darnand. He held the map in his hands. “Are you certain you will be able to find our camp in the dark? I did not want to mark it.”
Jerric climbed to his feet. “Yeah. It’ll still be where we left it, even if it’s not on your map.”
A pained look crossed Darnand’s face. “You refer to when Lildereth pointed toward Miscarcand, and I consulted my map.”
“Yeah, I refer to that.”
“I was verifying its accuracy, not doubting her.”
“The next time you
verify its accuracy when she’s showing you something, she’s going to stick the map up your backside. I hope that thought comforts you while you’re extracting it.”
Darnand’s face looked as pale as a ghost under the sun’s last rays. “I shall not insult her that way again.” He ran a hand over his eyes. “Gods help me. Do you suppose that is why she declined to join us this evening?”
“No. I don’t think she holds a grudge. Just gets her vengeance over with and moves on. Anyway, didn’t you see her when we passed by these stones? Skittish as a deer, and our camp’s two solid miles away. She doesn’t like strange magic. And by that I mean unfamiliar. Her magic is as strange as any I’ve seen.”
Darnand nodded. “There is much I would learn about Bosmer magic. Lildereth manipulates physical energy as naturally as an Altmer controls the mystic. I tried to speak with her about it, but I am afraid I only made her impatient.”
“You’re not alone in that. At least she hasn’t shot you. Yet.”
“Why do you suppose she remains with us?”
“You mean besides your charm and my wit?” Jerric grinned. Darnand’s face stayed serious. “I think she’s looking for something. Maybe she’ll need help when she finds it. Anyway, I’m glad she’s coming along, whatever her reasons.”
“As am I.”
The two men walked down to the ring of stones. “I’m only guessing that we need to wait until the stars are out,” said Jerric. “That’s what Mar—That’s what, uh, Marcus said about the Jone Stone, and he was right.”
Darnand looked Jerric straight in the eye. “I know that the man’s name is Martin. You talk in your sleep.”
Alarm stopped Jerric’s breath. “What other names have I said?” Darnand looked uncomfortable. Jerric felt like he might vomit. “Out with it, Breton. You can’t keep my own secrets from me.”
“There is little else that I recognize. Your muttering is unintelligible, and it rarely wakes me anymore. You can only be understood when you are the most distressed. You often shout a warning to someone called Martin. And you sometimes call out for… your mother.”
Jerric let out his breath and scratched a hand through his hair. “Probably in the dreams where I’m dying. I’ve heard folk cry for their Ma in every kind of language, right at the end. I guess I’m no different.”
Darnand looked doubtful. “I do not think you are in jeopardy, Jerric. Rather, it sounds as if she might be. I expect that if you do not remember all of those dreams, it is a blessing.” Darnand winced. “A vapid phrase, but no less suitable.”
“So you say it’s not the spicy dreams that make me wake up sweaty.” He might not tell me if I’ve been saying Abiene’s name, Jerric realized.
“If I suspected that you were flailing in the arms of Dibella, you would awaken alone.” Darnand suddenly gripped Jerric’s arm. “The center stone!”
Runes and symbols glowed red in the faint starlight. Jerric stepped carefully up to examine them. The runes meant nothing to him, but some of the markings looked familiar. “It’s a star map, Darnand. This might be one of the Birthsign Stones.” He ran his fingers over the markings. “It’s the Atronach!”
“Are you certain?” Darnand’s voice came from outside the circle. He sounded tense.
“I know the stars that marked my own birth. I’m going to try to invoke the blessing, or whatever. Maybe you can tell what it does.” Jerric sent his will into the stone, announcing his presence rather than demanding. Power stirred under his palms immediately. He felt welcomed, as if the Stone had been waiting for only him. The feeling of being more than he was a moment before drifted over him. He stepped back away from the Stone, slightly dazed.
“Jerric?” Darnand sounded extremely edgy. When Jerric turned, he noticed that it was fully dark.
“Yeah.” Jerric walked over to where Darnand waited. The Breton took a few steps back, and Jerric left the circle of stones. “It gave me something, but I don’t know what.”
“I have read that the Atronach has the power to grant the Arcane Well to deserving mortals, but I could not comprehend the context from the fragment I found. I hypothesized that the author meant the stars themselves might bestow the power. Perhaps the stars act through these stones.”
“I don’t know. Stand back, I’ll try it.” Jerric reached for his new power. After a moment he was still puzzled. “I feel the same.”
“The Arcane Well allows the recipient to absorb some spells into their own magicka. Additionally, it allows a greater reserve of magicka, for a time.”
“Thus the name,” said Jerric.
Darnand blinked at him. “Indeed.”
“It’s a power with properties like the ones the stars marked me with at birth. If it was Sun’s Dusk, I’d think your hypothesis might be correct. But right now it’s Morning Star, and we’re under the Ritual. I believe that if the gift comes from the stars, it must come
through some other power, through the Stone.” Darnand was staring. “What?”
“Nothing. Please, continue.”
“I know why I don’t feel any different. You might feel magicka filling your Arcane Well, but I don’t. The Atronach also delivers a curse. My magicka is stunted. If I drank some magicka potion, I’d feel the Well.” Jerric thought for a moment. “How do you suppose it works?”
Darnand’s eyes were round. “It makes you smarter.”
Jerric laughed and thumped him on the shoulder. “Good one. Go ahead, now you try it.”
“I shall decline this opportunity. I had not considered that the Stone might also convey a curse. Of course, you would not notice,” Darnand continued quickly, “but it is a risk I should not take.”
“All right, then. Anyway, how would we know if it made
you smarter?” Jerric laughed again. “I’m starving. Let’s go back to camp. By now Lildereth has probably dragged half of the mountain into the tent to keep us warm. I can see well enough to find the way. You keep your light spell in your own eyes.”
Darnand spoke after they had walked for a few moments. “The day after tomorrow is Meridia’s summoning day. I expect we will reach the shrine in time.”
“Uh huh,” Jerric agreed. “I already know that. What’s really on your mind?”
Darnand sounded uncertain. “Well…”
“Yeah?”
Darnand cleared his throat. “While you are still under the influence of the Arcane Well, I have a few theories I would like to discuss with you.”
Screenshot: Jerric at the Atronach StoneThis post has been edited by Grits: Oct 27 2011, 11:50 PM