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

[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.

[mALX]

GAAAAH !!! I didn't know that was what you meant till I saw Acadian's comment !!! ARGH !!! I hope your back gets better, that is an awful place to hurt !!! URK !!! I'm so sorry you haven't been feeling well !!!

[King Coin]

Yay! Lildereth is back with us! She and Darnand are getting into it already! I like how they think differently. Darnand is all about the magical details, and Lildereth is more concerned about the mer.

Jerric’s such a wonderful tentmate.

“That snow excuse is a pile of imp chips. You can just admit that you missed me.”
This screen shot comes to mind

And I can tell Jerric missed her too, he hasn’t been this much of an --- in a while. I'm glad the three of them are together again.

Great chapter Grits! And get well!

This post has been edited by King Coin: Oct 18 2011, 03:49 AM

[TheBrume]

I like the contrast between Lildereth and Darnand. I look forward to further chapters feuturing the three of them together once more.

Only Imperials get dressed for sleeping.

I liked this, it reminded me that this is still in the TES universe. And it was funny.

[McBadgere]

Excellent...Lovely place to start reading...Very...Descriptive... ...

Look forward to more...

[Grits]

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 1


Jerric 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 Stone

This post has been edited by Grits: Oct 27 2011, 11:50 PM

[SubRosa]

A nice little talk about the Doomstones. I have often wondered about those chains too. Although I never ran toward sacrifices. That doesn't seem very Cyrodiilic. I always imagined that either the stones were chained together, and something hung from them, or that there was a structure of wood around or atop them that the chains somehow connected to.

The hound seemed to enjoy shoving her head between the Breton and whatever he was attempting to do.
An excellent description of dogness!

Her magic is as strange as any I’ve seen.


You can’t keep my own secrets from me.
I think we can argue with that!

So if Jerric is at the Astronaut Stone, shouldn't he get a spacesuit? Or a rocket?

[mALX]

Darnand's fears about entering that circle were a great touch, as was bringing out Lildereth's aversion to it and different magic - huge details !!!

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.”

ROFL !!! Very typical Darnand !!! He better hurry, he only has like 120 seconds to pick Jerric's enhanced brain, lol.

I love how they are discovering the powers of these stones !! Tremendous immersion into the different facets of magic in Cyrodiil !! Darnand's gentle way of letting Jerric know about the talking in his sleep - kind of makes you wonder if he heard more than he is telling. Awesome Write !!

[Acadian]

It was fun with the two fellows and their four footed girl, talking about the pointy eared one.

You do the banter between them all very well – even when Lildereth is not there, she is. I like that her magic seems different.

Interesting stuff about the stones.

I can see Jerric’s concern about blabbing in his sleep.

So, is Meridia’s shrine on the menu? That could portend some black-robed trouble – that Darnand would no doubt find irresistibly fascinating.

This post has been edited by Acadian: Oct 28 2011, 01:42 AM

[King Coin]

Lildereth deadly as usual and quiet for a change. Maybe that’s just because Jerric and Darnand were too busy to tease.

I like Darnand’s comments. ‘Stop breathing so I can write neatly.’

Lol. Darnand and his map getting intolerable?

Hey I agree with Jerric. Whatever her reasons, I’m happy Lildereth has stayed. I AM very curious about why she’s skittish. Is there something about this area that she knows, or is Jerric correct in his assumption? We will see.

Jerric’s got dreams that rival Aravi’s. I wonder if she’sanything like Jerric is in her sleep?

Darnand’s eyes were round. “It makes you smarter.”
I have to agree!

Theories to discuss? Maybe even test? Can’t wait!

[Thomas Kaira]

“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.”

Sounds like my kinda gal!

Many interesting musings on Cyrodiil's standing stones here. You succeeded quite well in adding an air of mystery to something so familiar as a Doomstone. I anxiously await what Darnand might make of it.

And Jerric has become an intelligent Nord! An oxymoron if ever there was one. Now he can bash drunkards' heads in while explaining the Periodicals of Mystic Thaumaturgy or Ganton's Second Law of Destitute Construction or something. No one will ever be able to tell if they fell unconscious to the fists, or just fell asleep from the lectures.

Look out world!

This post has been edited by Thomas Kaira: Oct 28 2011, 04:47 AM

[RainbowVeins]

I'm finally caught up, and still enjoying the story just as immensely as I was after the first two entries. I can't even quote any specific lines here. The descriptions and dialogues in particular, are masterfully written. Looking forward to more!

[Grits]

SubRosa: The guys probably had Ayleid flesh gardens or daedric cults on their minds when they came up with sacrifices. I doubt that Jeelius was the first mortal to find himself bound on an altar in Cyrodiil. Too bad Abiene wasn’t there. She might have had a different idea for fun with chains.

mALX: I know I could use 120 seconds of enhanced brain every day, LOL. I would have to use them all up deciding which child is pulling one over on me this time. I’m glad you mentioned Lildereth’s and Darnand’s caution with the unfamiliar magic. I think most people would have more concerns than Jerric in that situation.

Acadian: And now we know that Lildereth does not have any repulsive habits, because that’s the first thing the fellas would have talked about! We’ll have to see if the black robes have a picture of Darnand on their recruiting posters.

King Coin: Darnand with his magic map is as insufferable as someone with a new iPhone! If Aravi’s anything like Jerric in her sleep, it’s no wonder that Vilja spends half the night downstairs drinking with the orcs.

Thomas Kaira: Jerric will have to drink a little more ale to even out the effects when he’s been using his Arcane Well. He has a reputation to uphold!

RainbowVeins: Woo hoo, you made it! I’m glad you’re still enjoying the story. Dialog and descriptions are my favorite parts to write. Here’s some more!


Where we are: Jerric, Darnand, Lildereth, Ulfe, and the horses are on their way to Skingrad, eventually. Next stop: the Shrine of Meridia.





Chapter 13: Skingrad, Part 2

Hills rose steep and close together on the northern edge of the West Weald, each one obscuring the view of what lay beyond it. Between the towering boulders and clusters of hundred foot trees, Jerric began to feel a little closed in. The terrain forced a slow pace, so he often dismounted to climb the hills on his own legs. Darnand’s horse seemed irritable. Jerric would also like a good run.

They had been searching for the Shrine of Meridia for most of the morning when they crossed the trail. Many folk on foot and horseback had passed this way recently. Lildereth examined the ground for a few moments before she glanced back at them. “We won’t be alone,” she said.

Jerric could smell the smoke before they saw it. At the top of a rise they found themselves looking down into a hanging valley. Boulders ringed the far side with trees growing thick behind. The ground dropped away below the trees. A tall statue stood in front of the boulders, facing the valley and concealed from behind by the trees. The figure appeared to be a gowned woman, standing with her arms raised and one bare leg forward, Jerric guessed about seventy feet high. He decided that must be the shrine.

White smoke hung thick in the valley over a chaotic encampment. Tents, tethered animals, campfires, and hundreds of people were clustered and scattered without any sense of order. The ground rose near the shrine. No one had set up their camp on that side. This is a holy place for them, Jerric realized.

“They’re burning green wood!” Lildereth fumed. “Who knows how they’re cutting it! Look, that woman is dragging a whole sapling! Mudin-ta! Wasters! Where are the foresters?”

“I don’t think we’re in the Imperial Reserve here,” said Jerric. “I guess this would be County Skingrad’s jurisdiction. Not much between here and the border with County Chorrol, though. Makes it a good spot for folk who don’t want to be bothered by the law.”

“I can smell the privies,” said Darnand.

“Probably a trench latrine,” said Jerric. “Gods, look at all the folk. What do they want to talk to Meridia for? What does Meridia even do?”

Darnand shot him a look. “Getting nervous?”

“Yeah. I just want one more meeting, then I’ll have my fill of gods and princes. I guess I’d rather let you two go talk to this one. I’ll see if I can uncover any crimes against the trees.”

Lildereth turned on him so quickly that her braid whipped over her shoulder. “A being that doesn’t hump and howl and fight has less value, is that what you’re saying? How many generations of round-ears come and go in the natural span of one of those firs? When their lives are cut short to warm up some Imperial’s greasy gray soup, how are you not outraged? What if it was your young feeding these fires?” She stopped herself with a gasp.

Jerric didn’t know what to say. Lildereth stood frozen with tears in her eyes.

“Let us seek out whoever is in charge of this mess,” Darnand said quietly. “Lildereth, will you accompany me to the shrine? Jerric, perhaps you would stay with the horses.”

“Yeah,” said Jerric. “I’ll head over under that ridge. Look for us at the edge of the camp. We’ll want to go uphill for our water. Ulfe, with me.”

Jerric rode slowly around the camp’s perimeter, leading Banner and Flash. Ulfe stayed close, ignoring the lesser dogs that came sniffing past. Most of the tents were simple, open-sided shelters that could be carried on a person’s back. Some folk had come in carts and wagons, and their accommodations looked more comfortable. Jerric saw people of all races, but the only children seemed to be working. Several moved between the nearby tents hawking skewers of cooked meat, some kind of bottled drink, and even bundles of the fresh-cut wood that had incensed Lildereth.

Jerric called down to a Khajiit lad bearing a bulging shoulder sack. “What are you selling?”

“Bone meal, ectoplasm, zombie flesh, anything you need. What’ll it be for you, m’lord?”

Jerric got a bad feeling. “What do I need those things for? Other than a burial.”

The lad’s golden eyes opened wide as only a Khajiit’s could. “Why, for your offering. Our Lady of Infinite Energies is pleased by the destruction of the profane. She won’t listen to your pleas if you don’t have something to prove your worth to her. Ectoplasm from a sanctified wraith is the best. A guaranteed blessing. I’ll make you a good price, sir.”

“Do I look like a sir? Spare me, kid. And you’ll make me a good price, you say. Where did you get real ectoplasm? How do you know it’s from a wraith?”

The lad’s ears flattened back for an instant, then they flicked forward with his toothy smile. “Apologies. I didn’t take you for a mage.”

Jerric snorted. “The way you talk, I didn’t take you for a Khajiit.”

“Gold Coast, just like you, mister.”

“What if I said I was born in Skyrim?” asked Jerric.

“Then so was I,” the Khajiit said, switching to the broad vowels of the north.

Jerric flipped him a coin, laughing. “You’re as much a cultist as I am, I’d wager. What should I know?”

“Keep an eye on your horses,” the lad grinned, tucking the coin away. “The harlots will rob you blind and be gone before morning. All of the dice games are rigged. Don’t eat the rat meat. It was near green when it went on the skewers.”

Jerric could have guessed most of it, but he had been considering the skewers of meat. Avoiding that was worth a Septim. He nodded his farewell and kept moving.

He decided to let Lildereth and Darnand come to find him, rather than taking the animals up to the shrine. They would soon learn that they needed an offering. Jerric thought that the Khajiit lad might actually have bonemeal, but he was certain it was not from an undead skeleton. Given the look of many of the daedra worshippers, he began to doubt if it really mattered. Meridia might appear to them in some form tomorrow, but he couldn’t imagine that she would speak individually to everyone who had gathered at her shrine.

The sun was westering when Lildereth and Darnand found him. Lildereth looked composed. Jerric couldn’t account for most of what was in Darnand’s expression.

“Good, you have not unpacked,” said Darnand.

“We need to go back to Kvatch and get some ectoplasm,” Jerric told them.

Darnand began checking over Banner’s tack. “We need to go, but not to Kvatch. Meridia spoke to me. We have a task to fulfill in Howling Cave, east of Skingrad. When we have completed our assignment, we are to return here to Meridia’s shrine. Her followers will not need to summon her again. She will be watching us.”

Jerric didn’t like the sound of that. “She spoke to you? How did you get her worshippers to summon her without any offering?”

Lildereth gave her crooked smile, her arms around Ulfe’s neck. “This one carries bonemeal and mort flesh around like you carry apples,” she said, nodding at Darnand.

Jerric stared at him. “Zombie meat? In your shoulder bag?”

“It was only a small sample,” Darnand protested. “I am not—”

“A necromancer,” Jerric and Lildereth finished for him.

“We are tasked with destroying the necromancers who inhabit Howling Cave,” Darnand continued, ignoring their mirth. “I propose that we travel until dark, then push for Skingrad at first light. As soon as we receive our assignments from the Mages Guild, we can make our plan.”

Lildereth nodded.

“All right,” said Jerric.

As darkness fell they made camp in a stand of maples protected on two sides by thickets of sweet briar. They set about the tasks that had already become familiar. Before long Jerric sat by the fire working on his blades, one eye on the stew pot. Darnand sat opposite him, settling in to his reading.

Ulfe rolled in the dry grass like a puppy until she had worked her way down to dirt. She finally came to rest on her back, front paws folded on her chest and hind legs splayed wide open. As her head flopped to the side, her tongue lolled out into the dust.

“You should have named her Lady,” Darnand remarked without looking up.

Lildereth sat down at Jerric’s side. After a moment she took his hand. Her little fingers made him feel like a giant.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured.

He knew she meant her angry comment about children in the campfires. “You didn’t mean it that way. But thanks for saying so.” He gave her hands a squeeze before he let go. “I’ll never get away from how my family died. Maybe someday I’ll quit trying to chase them. But anyway, nothing you can say will make it worse, so don’t worry about it. I’d hate for you to stop hissing at me just because it might come out wrong.” He went back to sharpening his knife. “Back in Kvatch, you were right about the ghosts.”

Lildereth looked silently into their fire. Jerric had found enough fallen wood, so he was certain she wouldn’t object to it. He decided this might be a good time to get some answers.

“Why are you alone, Lildereth? I know what you said about the Imperial folks who gave you a home. I mean your tribe. Where are your people?”

“Gone.”

Jerric kept his eyes on his work, hoping she would continue. After a long while, she did. “That is a story for another time, Jerric.”

Dammit, he thought. He tried another angle. “You’ll gather brush for camp. Why were you so upset about those daedra worshippers cutting wood?”

“It was the waste of it. The sheer arrogance, and the carelessness. They could have taken limbs, if they really needed them. Instead they just… I know we’re not in Valenwood, and I’m used to your ways. That woman with the young tree just bothered me.”

Jerric glanced over to check her temper. “Your bow is wood,” he ventured. “Is it from Cyrodiil?”

Lildereth actually smiled at him. “All right, since you’re curious. My bow is from home, given to me by a silverbark tree, and grown by a tree-shaper from its living branch. They made it for me before I even had the strength to string it, to serve all of my life. For when it fails, there’s a good chance I will follow.”

“Yeah, you work in close. That little flare of yours isn’t much of a backup plan.”

“My skeleton can cover my retreat,” Lildereth pointed out. “Though I have not needed her for some time.”

“I guess Ulfe doesn’t help you much when you’re hunting.”

“No, she does not. She’s trained to hunt with someone on horseback. She runs her prey down, while I stalk mine. I have taught her to hinder me less, however. Unless she sees deer. She cannot help but chase them.”

“These hills are full of deer.”

Lildereth sighed. “Yes.”

Jerric looked out into the dark. The fire ruined his night vision, and he couldn’t find an example for his question. “So that big meadow we crossed this afternoon.”

“You crossed,” Lildereth corrected him. “I went around it.”

Jerric mentally rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but you know the one I mean. How would you shoot a target across a meadow like that?”

“I wouldn’t. I’d find cover where I think they’ll pass. Wait for them to reach me.”

“What if they go a different way?”

Lildereth shrugged with one shoulder. “Follow. Try again. There’s always tomorrow.”

Jerric felt a chill that had nothing to do with the season. “Or you could just find another deer, I guess.”

She gave him a cool smile. “Are we still talking about deer?”

Jerric shuddered. “You’ve got my skin crawling every place I’ve ever been shot. I hope I don’t skitt myself for each time I’ve been poisoned. Good gods, woman. How did we get started on this subject?”

“You,” Lildereth told him. “You were wondering how far you’d have to run the next time you provoke me.”

They both had a chuckle over that. “Well, I was wondering about your long-range shooting,” Jerric admitted. “That’s a pretty short bow.”

“Grown with magic and made by a tree, not glued together in a workshop. That’s also why it hasn’t worn out or broken. Can you judge a blade by its sheath? Don’t let the appearance fool you. What looks like a child’s toy in your hands…”

“Yeah,” said Jerric. “I judge it by your shooting.”

“You’re thinking of a shot as making the target. I think of it as making the kill. For me, that means short range.” Lildereth watched the fire for a moment. “You’ve seen Merandil shoot. In Kvatch.”

“Yeah. His bow is nearly as long as me. How would you compare to him?”

Lildereth sighed wistfully. “He’s beautiful.”

Jerric bit the inside of his cheek. That wasn’t really his question, but he wouldn’t trade her answer for anything. He continued when he could control his grin. “Now tell me about arrows. Why do you keep taking them out and looking at all of them? Aren’t they the same ones that you put in there?”

Lildereth shook her head. “First impart to me the mystery of steel in seven words or less.”

Jerric snorted. “I just know how to use it.” He guessed she still felt sorry enough for one more question. “I’ve seen you eat rice and bread, but you always pick the lettuce off your sandwiches. Is it because lettuce is green? In Valenwood did you only eat meat?”

Lildereth gave him a level look, and Jerric stilled his hands while she spoke. “There is much about our ways that you would not understand, and I will not try to explain. But this part is simple. For every great tree that falls, only one can grow to replace it. Yet throughout its long life it will bear fruit and seeds that rival the stars in their number. My people accept what is freely given. We eat fruits, nuts, and grains. Even vines that die back and then sprout anew from the ground are woven into our shelters. But no plant of Valenwood is harmed by those who honor Y'ffre’s pact with our people.”

Jerric eyed her uneasily. “What about—”

“My grandmother’s corpse roasting on a spit at her funeral? Little elves gobbling up fallen armies? The entire province would be straining to move their bowels, not frolicking in the trees. We do make our loved ones and our strongest foes a part of ourselves when they die. But it’s not like you’ve heard. I think that’s enough for now.”

Jerric felt more relieved than he could have imagined. “What are your plans when we get to Skingrad?”

“I have business there. I’ll help you with Howling Cave, like I told Darnand. Other than that, I’m uncertain.”

“So, you could just leave us at any time.”

Lildereth gave him another green look. “What will you do if we see a Gate to Oblivion? I thought as much. So, you could just leave us at any time.”

“Fair enough,” said Jerric. He looked across the fire at Darnand. The Breton sat cross-legged and bent over the book in his lap, elbows braced on his knees. “Darnand, I think the soup’s ready.”

Darnand did not reply.

“Darnand,” said Jerric.

Nothing. Jerric and Lildereth exchanged a look.

“Ulfe,” said Lildereth, nodding across the fire. “Go give him a kiss.”

The hound hauled herself to her feet and ambled over to the Breton. Darnand didn’t move until she stuck her nose under his chin. Then he barely managed to keep his book, his feet, and their meal out of the fire. Lildereth and Jerric were no help at all.

“Yes?” Darnand demanded after he apologized to the dog. His glare was almost worthy of Lildereth.

“Soup’s ready,” said Jerric, wiping his eyes. “Didn’t want you to miss it.”

[SubRosa]

Our first Daedric Shrine. I have been wrestling with how to portray them in the TF, if I do at all. I will probably do something similar to what you have, at least in scale. Although it might not be as icky. Too bad no one at the shrine knows anything about camp management... But that is what you get when you have a lot of pie in the sky hippies, rather than good old-fashioned pragmatists.

The kids selling dead undead parts was a good touch too. I was just thinking that with all those pilgrims, there ought to be some of those who worships the holy gold piece looking to make some cash off the flock. I am half surprised no one was selling pieces of Meridia's skirt (guaranteed genuine!) or Elvis sweat, etc...

Lildreth's outrage over the felling of the saplings was a nice bit of world-building of Bosmer in general in the JF. That is another one of those things I have to wrestle with in the TF. Given that wood is all-pervasive material, used for everything from making buildings, furniture, weapons, boats, bowls, utensils, and of course firewood, there is no place you cannot escape seeing it used. I see you are going with a similar conservationist attitude. I thought it was a very unique and brilliant idea for Lildreth's bow to be made for her in the way you described.

Jerric stared at him. “Zombie meat? In your shoulder bag?”
Sure he's not a necromancer. That is just for a light snack at mid-morning...

“First impart to me the mystery of steel in seven words or less.”
Crom! Sorry, I had a Conan flashback there. The real Conan, with Ahnold of course.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Nov 2 2011, 07:31 PM