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

[Acadian]

Lildereth stole the show here (again) for me. In just about every way. Very nicely done!

How clever to be selling the. . . items needed for tribute to Meridia. For me that, combined with the Khajiit lad really brought this rag taggle camp at the feet of Meridia to life.

I am not a crook necromancer! Gotta love Darnand. And I believe him now.

’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.’
A particularly ladylike pose indeed!

As ever, your banter among the characters was absolutely enchanting.

[mALX]

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.

This whole section was priceless !!

I like the slow friendship developing between Lildereth and Jerric - especially because they are so totally different from each other. Seeing as Jerric and Darnand are just as different, but their friendship is such a deep and trusting one - I think it bodes well for the same with Lildereth down the road.

Your world-building on Elf culture is fantastic !! Awesome Write !!

[Grits]

SubRosa: What is steel compared to the hand that wields it? I think they’ll avoid shrines on that Prince’s summoning day from now on, if only to skip the latrine experience. I could easily see Teresa ignoring the daedric shrines, since she is so connected with the aedra. I put a lot of thought into the Green Pact JF Version before I came up with something I could work with. Thank you for your words about Lildereth’s bow! I wanted something low-tech and magical but not enchanted for her, which would fit her tribal early life.

haute ecole rider: Thank you for your endorsement of Lildereth’s Green Pact Lite. She has things about herself that she thinks the fellows will find difficult to accept, but she wants to be truthful. Of course, some of it is none of their business. I definitely wanted to keep the Bosmer among Valenwood’s apex predators, but I also wanted them to have more of a relationship with the trees. I figured if the trees give them shelter, then why not fruit? It’s not hurting them, and it’s another way the trees can care for the elves.

King Coin: I love that part of Cyrodiil too, but Jerric is a big sky man. I don’t think he is going to enjoy Leyawiin. “Waster” is just about the worst thing Lildereth could call a person, so I’d say it was the thoughtlessness that just pushed her over the edge. She can deal with seeing wood harvested for timber in Cyrodiil, but the shrine is in the forest, not in a woodlot. I think of it as similar to how a lot of folks will eat a hamburger, but would lose it if they saw someone slaughter a baby deer. Speaking of gross, here’s a screenshot for you. Jerric tries the spell “Summon Ketchup.” Thank you, KC!

Acadian: Thank you for your kind words, Acadian! Your approval of Lildereth means a lot. Ulfe was particularly fun to write in this episode. I started out knowing how she looks and hunts, and let her sort of fill in the rest. Turns out she is the dog version of Jerric.

mALX: My affection for Maxical and Aravi is the reason for that Khajiit! He started off as an Imperial. I’m so glad you liked him. I love your insight into Jerric and Lildereth. She’s also unusual in that no matter how much he admires her, he’s not considering some far-fetched scheme to get into her pants. Kind of a new thing for him. Thank you, mALX!


Where we are: Jerric, Darnand, Lildereth, and Ulfe visited the shrine of Meridia on the day before her summoning day and found the shrine crowded with daedra worshippers. Darnand and Lildereth managed to speak to the Prince thanks to Darnand’s inexhaustible supply of undead detritus. They got away from the crowds before the daedra party. Lildereth shared some things about herself that evening at the campfire. Now they’re headed to Skingrad.



Chapter 13: Skingrad, Part Three

The sun was high enough not to glare in their eyes by the time Skingrad’s spires came into view. Darnand rode Banner, Jerric walked leading Flash, and Lildereth perched on Kip with one knee bent over the saddle. Ulfe trailed along behind, endlessly sniffing.

When they reached the Gold Road earlier that morning, Lildereth had dropped her burdens and abruptly stripped to her skin, to the men’s startled appreciation. Before they could close their mouths she had slipped into a green gown and twisted her hair into a becoming arrangement. Jerric decided to walk for awhile, allowing himself a little more room in the trousers. Lildereth accepted a ride to spare her city shoes. What little guidance Kip needed, she provided with her voice. Jerric found much to admire in her quiet way with animals.

The distant view made Jerric think of the last time he had walked into the sun along this road. Before was the only way he could think of it. He turned his thoughts until he found something he could cling to.

“There’s a Dunmer alchemist in town you should meet, Darnand,” he said. “I think she’s a necro-feeler.” Jerric glanced over at his friends.

Both of them looked blank. “A what?” asked Darnand.

“A necro-feeler. I guess that has to do with dead things. She asked me if I knew the fine for necro-feeling in Cyrodiil.”

Lildereth burst into giggles. Darnand’s eyebrows went up. “Is it possible that she said necrophilia?”

“Yeah,” said Jerric. “Anyway, I figured you’d know what it was about, with your, uh, interests.” Darnand pinched the bridge of his nose. Lildereth shook with silent spasms. “What’s with the elf?”

“I expect that her imagination has carried her away for the moment,” said Darnand.

“Fresh zombie,” gasped Lildereth, pointing at Darnand with a trembling hand.

“Well, he could use a bath,” Jerric said uncertainly.

“Thank you for the recommendation, Jerric.” Darnand shot a look at Lildereth. “I think it prudent that we avoid her, at least until we slaughter her possible associates at Howling Cave.”

“Oh,” said Jerric. “Right. Well, there’s another alchemist at the West Weald Inn, living in the basement. There’s not one at the mages guild.”

“I do not require an alchemist,” said Darnand. “However I suppose you will want to find a brothel. Shall we meet you later at the guild hall?”

Jerric suppressed a shudder. “No, I don’t think we can spare the coin. This is a sophisticated town for all of the pastures and vineyards around it. And watch yourself if you climb into bed with one of the local mages. You might start out on top and wind up in the middle. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, I just don’t want you to be, you know. Surprised.”

The dismay on Darnand’s face told Jerric that he had said both too much and too little. “I do not know,” said Darnand. “I do not know in the least. To what do you refer?”

Jerric had never heard such a belly laugh from a wood elf before. This seemed to be a good time to change the subject. He glanced up the road for inspiration. “Look, sheep! Let’s talk to that Bosmer.”

They had reached the part of the county where much of the land was fenced for pastures, fields, and vineyards. The Gold Road was wide enough here for two shepherds to pass without mingling their flocks. One such fellow approached, keeping his two dozen or so charges politely on his side. Where Lildereth dressed in green made Jerric think of every growing thing, this mer was brown as dirt from head to toe, apart from his wide smile.

“Hail, Bosmer,” Jerric called. “How does the day greet you?”

The Bosmer immediately put the lie to his drab appearance. “It is all in the nose,” he declared. “Yes, of course, it is also in the mouth! The fragrance, the sharp, startling odor... the sheep's cheese... ambrosia! Nectar! Yes. I am the Shepherd, Yourass. And it is my sheep, and my deft hand and sharp nose, which produce the glorious cheeses of Skingrad.”

For a stunned moment Jerric couldn’t speak. “I’m Jerric,” he managed. “Pleased to meet you.” A glance at Darnand showed that the Breton was also struggling. Jerric felt a guffaw building inside him, and began to panic. He had no wish to be rude to this enthusiastic little mer.

“His name is Uuras,” Lildereth murmured, her eyes still bright with humor.

“Thank the gods,” gasped Darnand.

“Where can you get sheep's cheese but in Skingrad?” Uuras warbled. “And why? Because only in Skingrad is Uuras, Master of Sheep's Cheese! I can also teach you a bit of athletic conditioning, if you can spare the time. Why, you ask? Because I am the mountain sheep's brother, and I must dash with him from crag to crag!”

Jerric’s mind took off in multiple directions. Sheep’s cheese was widely available in Cyrodiil, produced in nearly every county. He was unsure if Cheese Master Uuras would be angered or disappointed by that news, so he chose not to share it. He thought that the piercing quality of the shepherd’s voice might be an advantage in the heavy foliage of his native Valenwood, but in the open air it could quickly become tiresome. Maglir’s voice had a similar effect inside a tavern, he remembered. He began to understand Lildereth’s attraction to the towering but taciturn Merandil. On the other hand, Jerric found Thaurron’s company delightful, and his voice even lyrical. A quick reflection put Uuras and Maglir in the minority of Bosmer, in Jerric’s experience. Maglir may still be at the Fighters Guild in Skingrad. Perhaps Jerric could pick up a fast contract while he was in town. Also, he wondered to what crags Uuras was referring. Certainly not any in County Skingrad. But still…

“He might teach you a thing or two,” Jerric said to Darnand.

His friend looked surprised. “I am satisfied with my present trainer.”

While they stood chatting, the sheep had crowded across the lane. Lildereth slipped off Kip’s back and began to gently encourage them out of the way. “It has been a pleasure to meet you, Uuras,” she trilled.

The shepherd grinned so hard that it overflowed his face into a nimble little leap. “And you, sister Bosmer!” But he found himself addressing Lildereth’s back as she strode toward the city.

A stop at the Grateful Pass Stables put the horses at leisure. Tilmo helped them stow their packs and gear, so they entered the city lightly laden. The sun on the tall stone buildings made Jerric feel a little warm, and it deepened the shadows even at this hour of the morning. Few trees or planters graced the streets. Summer or winter, the city looked much the same.

He didn’t feel like talking as they made their way to the guild hall in Hightown. Lildereth was also silent. Druja confronted them in the entry hall, or perhaps that was her manner of greeting. Druja the Disappointed, Jerric silently named her. She even made Ulfe’s ears droop.

“I am Darnand Penoit, Guild Associate,” Darnand said to her. “We have met before, though I do not expect you to remember me.” He gestured to his friends. “Allow me to—”

Druja interrupted him with a flutter of her own hand. “Yes. I do not know the Bosmer.”

“Lildereth,” she said. “Journeyman. When I last visited this guild hall, Aelindor was chapter head.”

“You will find things have changed,” Druja said in her sour tone. “Are you passing through, or do you have business here?”

“Jerric and I are seeking recommendations from this chapter,” said Darnand. “We—”

“Oh, who cares. See Adrienne for that. If you can convince her to take her nose out of whatever book she’s reading.” The Argonian gave Lildereth a narrow look.

The mer returned it. “My business is my own.”

“We require accommodations,” Darnand said quickly. “Carahil suggested that you are the one to approach with such matters.”

Druja made an annoyed little hiss. “The common quarters are full of mages traveling for South Winds Prayer. However, there is an unassigned chamber with two spare beds in the third floor living quarters. It was once occupied by Vigge the Cautious. You may use it until Adrienne objects. How you arrange yourselves is none of my concern.” The hall seemed to lighten when Druja stalked away into the adjoining chamber. They heard a door slam.

“I wonder if Argonians are completely immune to poison,” Lildereth mused.

“You two can have the beds. I’m all right with the floor,” said Jerric. He could get his bedroll from the stable easily enough. He hoped they could recapture their companionable mood.

“You sleep better with your arms around someone,” Lildereth told him. “Tonight it’s Darnand’s turn. He’s going to try to switch with Ulfe.”

The dog perked up at the sound of her name. Jerric wondered if Lildereth was jesting. Darnand’s twitching lip said that she was.

“I’ll sleep with the hound,” Jerric announced. “I might get some of my fleas to jump onto her. There’s more—”

“Yes, we know,” said Lildereth. “There’s more hair on your balls than in all of High Rock and Valenwood combined.” Lildereth’s eyes were bright again.

“I was going to say on my knuckles. You have a filthy mind.”

“I will share a bed with Jerric,” Darnand said bravely. “Though I would ask that this once you might sleep in your drawers.”

“You don’t have to worry, I’m not going bare into Vigge’s old bed.” They both gave him incredulous looks. “Don’t you two have standards? Besides, this one time I woke up in—”

“No,” Darnand interrupted. “Just, no.”

“You’re frightening Ulfe,” said Lildereth. “I’ll share with Darnand. Neither of us will kick off the blankets.”

Darnand picked up his pack. “We should claim the empty chamber immediately, then seek out Adrienne. If memory serves, it may be some time before she will consent to speak with us.”

Lildereth started toward the stairs.

“Good plan,” said Jerric. “I need to speak with Druja first.”

Darnand snorted. “May we both receive the Blessings of Zenithar before our respective trials.”

A tap on Druja’s door brought her back into the side chamber.

“I took some magicka gems the last time I was here,” he told her, nodding at the counter where Vigge had kept his supplies. “Adrienne said to do it. I woke her up.”

“Adrienne would never remember. You made a mistake by mentioning it to me.”

“Uh…” Jerric wasn’t sure what she meant. “I’d like to pay for them. What do I owe?”

“How should I know?” Druja held out a scaled palm.

It took Jerric a moment to realize he should just hand over some gold and forget about it. Carahil and Sigrid do run clean halls, he thought, picking through his purse for the thick fifty-Septim coins. There’s a lot more wrong here than playing reluctant bedfellows.

“Letters,” Druja rasped as she tucked away his coins.

“Huh?”

Druja stepped to the lectern and lifted the lid. After a moment’s rummaging, she produced a handful of envelopes and scrolls. “Your friends have letters.”

Jerric took the bundle and jogged up the stairs, through the library, and up another set of stairs to the richly appointed living quarters. Darnand’s voice drew him to the chamber that had been Vigge’s. Two beds now graced the chamber, both of them generous in size and luxurious of bedding, though only the burgundy coverlet matched the carpets and draperies. There were more than enough cupboards and chests to accommodate all of their belongings, even though some of them were already full. Jerric wondered if Vigge had brought any of his silks and velvets to his new life in Kvatch.

Darnand had already spread papers over the desk and pillaged one of the bookcases. Lildereth was fiddling with towels at the wash stand. Jerric could imagine the small dining table laden with sheep’s cheese and wine bottles. This visit was beginning to show promise.

“Mail!” he announced, handing the bundle to Darnand.

The Breton quickly sorted the stack. “Most of this is refuse,” he remarked. “I do not require carriage insurance. I cannot imagine why Carahil sent it forward.” Then his face lit with surprise. “I have a letter from Abiene!” Lildereth took the rest while he opened it.

Jerric had to admit that such a poor correspondent as he had no reason to hope for a letter. Still, just hearing her name had opened a pit in his stomach. His palms felt damp, and his pulse had quickened. He tried to tell himself it was foolishness. They had no promises between them. At this very moment she could be squirming under some other Nord, clutching his back and calling him Jerric.

“This one’s for you,” said Lildereth, passing him an envelope. She was already opening a scroll.

Jerric turned toward the window with a smile cracking his face. He lingered over the sight of his name written in that confident, feminine hand. He closed his eyes and tried to catch her scent before he unfolded the page.

The Chapel of Stendarr
Chorrol

6 Morning Star, 433



My love,


I cannot write what is in my heart. Only that when I think of you, I am stronger.

Every day my hopes come to life under my hands. Each night brings me closer to the next time we touch.

I am yours.


Abiene

.

[ghastley]

I just love the idea of Cyrodilic junk mail! What's next? Sponsored spell effects?

This fireball brought to you by ...

[mALX]

Between the "necrofeelers," Uuras, and Jerric's inner dialogue in the Mages Guild - this chapter had me in whoops !!! Then the letters from Abiene; poor Jerric and Darnand. I always worry that one wrong word in a letter from Abiene may be a splinter that wedges such too great friends apart. Awesome Write !!!

[haute ecole rider]

What a lovely and rich episode this has been!

First Lildereth's catching the men off guard by her sudden wardrobe change. Somehow I am put in mind of clotheshorse Buffy. Wonder if she does the same thing? TBH, at first I was looking for water.

Then the Uuras/Yourass/Uranus/Youranus banter had me fighting to keep my tea off my keyboard! That one totally caught me off guard!

Then the discussion of who shall get the bed and who shall get the floor (with Ulfe as the only innocent bystander in all this) had my head spinning from lack of oxygen (laughing, you know).

Finally closing with the letter(s) from Abiene really put the icing on the cake here! Loved, loved, loved what she wrote to J - short and sweet, but with no doubt about her true feelings.

[SubRosa]

My big problem with using the Daedra is that they took no part in creating the world, so nothing in it can reflect or symbolizes them. They should be utterly alien beings, completely outside of Nirnish experience. The reverse would also be true. Humans, elves, tailed folk, etc... would be just as incomprehensible and unknowable to them. It should be like comparing Cthulhu to people, and those of us who have read Lovecraft know how that works out.

But Bethesda wants them to be gods worshiped alongside the Nine. Critters people call up once a year as part of a festival on that deity's summoning day. They are given symbols and spheres of influence, Nightmares, destruction, madness, plots, etc... But those symbols should all be Aedric in nature, not Daedric, as they are the product of Aedric energy. Or at least of Lorkhan's, as his heart is the heart of the world. For example, Azura's symbols are the moon and the star. But the moons are Lorkhan's dead body, and the stars are holes ripped in the fabric of reality by the fleeing Aedra. So neither has anything to do with Azura.

This has given me some rather radical thoughts about the nature of the Daedra Princes, which I am still mulling over whether or not to use. If so, it will reconcile these logical difficulties I am having, and I will probably start putting them to more use in the TF. Tadrose makes an excellent character to convey some of these ideas, as she is from Morrowind.

Anyway, back to the JF. How nice of those wood elves to change clothes in broad daylight! Teresa needs to meet more girls from Valenwood... I loved that Lildreth rode the rest of the way to save her shoes. Or was it to save her feet from walking miles in high heels?

Necro-feeling! How perfect! Of course that would be something Darnand is interested in!

That was thoughtful of Jerric to warn the others about the proclivities of the local mages. But the way he turned the conversation to sheep afterward made me wonder about the proclivities of Nords...

“You’re frightening Ulfe,”
Not just Ulfe!

I see what Jerric thought about there being more wrong at Skingrad then just the sleeping arrangements. I think you portrayed the ramshackle nature of the Skingrad guild hall quite well. Not only an absentee leader, but a second who just doesn't care.

And finally mail. How sweet. Now we get to see the last letter of Abiene's, that was not in the old chapter.

[Acadian]

I loved how Lildereth was struck to just change clothes on the spot! What a perfectly ‘Lildereth’ thing to do! Buffy does that, but has learned that those around her are more comfortable if she disappears via an invisibility spell for a minute while she does so.

~ An Ode to the Woodsisters ~

Little elves, casting a trail of clothes as they lightly dance through a moonlit meadow . . . "Our ears are big and our breasts are small. Oh listen! Is that a waterfall?"

Necro-what?!? I loved this!

’The dismay on Darnand’s face told Jerric that he had said both too much and too little.’
Masterfully put!

“Hail, Bosmer,” Jerric called. “How does the day greet you?”
You and I have a pact to think of each other whenever we use that greeting that both of us like so very much.

The entire sequence with Uuras was positively lyrical. What a perfect blend of clever and natural dialogue delightfully augmented by Jerric’s wide-ranging ruminations.

“I wonder if Argonians are completely immune to poison,” Lildereth mused.’
Yes, that's our Lildereth.

What a beautiful letter! So much said with so few words.

[King Coin]

Thanks for that wonderful image of Jerric chowing down on some rat.
-------
As if we needed further proof that Lildereth was a Bosmer! Sounds like she’s expecting to meet someone. Is this why she’s been on edge?

Oh good reminder of Jerric’s family. I find it easy to forget with his attitude that he’s suffering.

That whole section with the necrophilia was hilarious but this line really topped it for me:

“Well, he could use a bath,” Jerric said uncertainly.


I think Uuras will fit in the Shivering Isles quite well. He seems to share many traits with the residents of mania.

I wonder what Jerric is going to think of the letter. That’s some heavy stuff, is he prepared for it?

Wonderful chapter!

[McBadgere]

How the hell did I miss 3 of them?... ...

*Shrug*...Sorry about that...

Fantastic writing...Much enjoying...

I hadn't thought about the Daedric shrines meself...Definately something in need to think about...

Cheese!!... ...Excellent... ...

Nice one... ...

Yeah...So worth the wait for that review eh?... ...

...

[Grits]

ghastley: Thanks, I'm glad I left that in. I was afraid it might sound too silly. How about ID tags for the undead: If lost, please return to :____________

mALX: Thanks, mALX! I think they were all ready to lighten the mood after Kvatch. You’re right about Abiene’s letters. Darnand has a lot invested in both of them, and he doesn’t seem like someone who could just brush off such a major disappointment.

haute ecole rider: I thought of Buffy, too. These girls are not bothered by silly Imperial social conventions. Of course, Lildereth would point out that her quick change was shielded by three horses, and the guys had the whole empty road to look at. From Jerric’s POV all we get is, “Naked chick!” Thanks, I’m glad you enjoyed it. And yes, Abiene finally made up her mind.

SubRosa: Those Valenwood girls are as unselfconscious as spriggans. It’s a shame to waste cute shoes on walking. Plus she can see much better from on top of a horse, especially when there is a Nord loose on the road. I can’t help but contrast the Skingrad and Bravil guilds, both in their buildings and the attitudes of their leaders. Thank you, SubRosa!

Acadian: I thought of you throughout this very Buffy episode! What a lovely Ode to the Woodsisters, and how very true. Thank you for sharing it! I seem to recall a furiously blushing Daenlin once instructed a young Buffy not to drop trou in the presence of her male friends. The lads are glad that he didn’t tell Lildereth. It was fun to show what goes on in Jerric-think, as well as a few of his blond moments. Any more than that would be exhausting! Thank you for your kind words, Acadian!

King Coin: Poor Jerric didn’t have a clue throughout much of this episode. Of course Lildereth flashing them didn’t help his focus. I’m glad I put in that mention of his ongoing sadness. He has definitely not gotten over losing his family. He’s pretty much riding a little raft of cheer on a sea of grief most of the time. Jerric would love to move to Chorrol, marry his girl, and get busy producing a tribe of curly-haired half-Nords. Pretty soon he would be pestering her to cut back on her hours at the chapel, and she would want to know if he thought he was going out with his friends from the Fighters Guild again this weekend. But there’s this dang Oblivion crisis… Oh, Lildereth was just waiting to get out of the brush before she put on a dress. Maybe she will meet someone, though. Glarthir? Thank you, KC!

McBadgere: Your comments are most appreciated, at any time. I am fluent in emoticons and ellipses. I’m glad you’re enjoying it! Thanks, McB!

Where we are: Skingrad. Jerric and Darnand are seeking recommendations for the Mages Guild.



Chapter 13: Skingrad, Part Four

Jerric reached Bleak Flats cave after less than an hour’s walk from Skingrad, including the time he took along the way filling his pockets with flax seeds. His assignment from Adrienne was to bring the Bosmer Erthor back to the guild hall so that she could consult with him. After being treated dismissively by all of Skingrad’s mages and half of the domestic staff, Jerric finally discovered that Adrienne had sent him away to conduct his work in a local cave. It took him more time to learn Erthor’s whereabouts than it did to actually walk there. No one seemed to know how long the Bosmer had been missing, but they agreed that the guild hall had been quiet without him. It was incomprehensible to Jerric that Adrienne had not sent someone earlier to check on the welfare of one of her mages.

A wall of mortared stone and a closed wooden door blocked the cave’s entrance. Jerric guessed that Erthor locked or bolted the door from the inside while he was in residence. A shove confirmed his theory.

“Erthor?” Jerric called and knocked, then pounded and shouted. Even Lildereth can’t open a lock that isn’t there, he thought. With a certain degree of smugness, he reached for his axe.

Inside the cave, darkness and a rotten smell greeted him. Daylight illuminated the near walls and downward sloping ceiling, but not the far recesses. He fervently hoped that the stink was not coming from Erthor. Jerric slipped on his ring, and a faint pink glow showed him something moving below with a familiar lurching motion. His gut told him it was a zombie.

Jerric heaved the door back over the opening. If the Bosmer still lived, it would not do to have him run out like a rabbit while Jerric was distracted by a fight. Adrienne and Darnand had already buried themselves in some research project. Weeks could pass before they thought to check on him, living on raw mushrooms while he searched the cave system for Erthor.

Vigge’s teaching was still fresh in Jerric’s mind. He took a moment to shift his gear into readiness, anxious to test his new knowledge of elemental destruction. His torchlight showed him a narrow path along the cave’s floor, smooth and solid through areas of loose and jagged rock. Jerric smiled to himself as he drew fire into his hand. Here was also a chance to improve his footwork.

He wasn’t smiling any more by the time the seventh zombie toppled to the ground. Sweat soaked his hair, and his mouth felt coated in zombie smoke. The leather over his chest was darkened where a Tongue of Fire spell had flared back toward him close enough to singe it. He stepped past the smoldering corpse and moved in deeper.

A row of torches stood across an opening at the back of the cavern, each held upright by its own little pile of rocks. The smell of stale urine and worse told Jerric that someone had been careless with their slop jar. Doubtlessly it was the Bosmer-sized life sign pacing back and forth in a chamber beyond. Relief eased the tension in his neck. Jerric slipped off his ring and strode between the torches.

He was expecting a bare-bones work area, but this space resembled a snug study more than a cave. Tapestries lined the walls, and rugs softened the floor. Candelabras chased away every shadow. Niches cut into the rock made one wall a library and another a dressing chamber. Only the bed was disappointing, a simple pallet on the floor. Jerric realized that everything in the cavern could have been trundled in on a handcart.

In the middle of the chamber stood a wood elf, shaking in his pointy little shoes. His mouth opened and closed without a sound. That’s the prettiest male I’ve ever seen, thought Jerric.

“Erthor?”

“You... how did you get in here?”

“I’m Jerric. I’m here to rescue you.” Jerric could imagine Lildereth’s reaction to that announcement.

The mer’s wits seemed to return in a rush. “Are the creatures gone? I heard a fight. Horrible things, and something was killing them! What could be worse than zombies, I wondered? Perhaps whatever it is will not find me all the way back here! And then I remembered the torches! And then you did find me!”

“Adrienne sent me.”

“I put the torches there to keep them at bay,” Erthor continued on the same breath. “They shy away from fire. I want to get out of here. I’ve been trapped here for days! I didn’t dare move a muscle! I’ve barely slept!”

“Well, I guess you can come with me now.”

“Are you sure they’re all gone? I can leave the cave? You’re heading back to Skingrad, aren’t you? And I could come with you? Oh, thank you! I’m ever so grateful!”

“Yeah. Is there anything you need to bring? I’ll give you a hand.”

“You’re just too kind!” The Bosmer shoved a bulging sack at Jerric and hopped behind the desk before he could blink.

“Moving out?” Jerric asked, hefting the bag.

“Only my soiled linens.” Erthor was already stuffing papers into a satchel. “I need Adrienne’s notes! And a few of my books. And…”

The laundry sack was large enough to hold a reasonable person’s entire wardrobe, more if they wore child-sized clothing. Jerric shook his head. Mages.

When he was ready to leave, Erthor cast a light spell and put out the torches. He led Jerric up a narrow passage to the side entrance Jerric had found earlier from the other side, blocked by a stone panel. The turn of a wheel opened the way, and they followed the path up through the caverns.

“Did you see who put those zombies in your cave?” Jerric asked. “If there are necromancers about, you shouldn’t come back here until I take care of them.” Howling Cave was on the other side of Skingrad, but it could be the same group with multiple hideouts.

“Well…” Erthor patted his hair, brushed off his sleeves, then smoothed his already neat doublet.

Jerric stopped walking so that he would have to answer. “Out with it, Bosmer.”

“I was working with summoning,” Erthor explained, glancing nervously into the dark. His face pleaded for something. Understanding? “I began exploring my new theory with scamps, some time ago. That’s how I ended up being sent here. My experiments sometimes…”

“Don’t work?” Jerric offered. “Explode?”

“Go awry. The scamps persisted in this realm long after my strength failed. I could not control them.” He wrung his hands. “Do you suppose we could converse as we walk? I’m anxious to return to the safety of Skingrad.”

Jerric started walking along the path again. Erthor trotted beside him.

“I adjusted my spell, and began to work with zombies instead,” said the mer. “I thought that my failure resulted from the nature of my summoned daedra. It’s easier to bend the will of an undead summoning, since it’s already the will of a mortal imposed upon a…” Erthor seemed to notice Jerric’s eye roll. “But to reach the point of the story, my efforts with the zombies were successful. Too successful. Instead of summoning them to my location and binding them for a time, I was moving them here bodily. I must have been transporting something from the cave to replace them, because I left no void to call them back where they belong. Before I realized what was happening, I had summoned seven.”

“I wondered how they got in. Since their remains are still here, I didn’t think they could be summonings.” Jerric had a thought. “So you’re saying that you moved seven zombies from somewhere, and I killed them?”

Erthor nodded, smiling uncertainly.

“Do you know what this means?” Jerric grabbed the mer by the arm to halt him. “We took those fetchers out of the fight! Ha! Some necromancer is really pissed right now.” Jerric dropped the sack and rolled his shoulders while he filled his hand with fire. “Come on, what are you waiting for? Summon another one. Let’s kill it!”

Erthor’s big brown eyes popped open even wider. “You are a madman!” he squeaked. The elf took off running as if shot from a bow, leaving Jerric groping for the laundry bag by the light of his flare.

Jerric caught up to him as Erthor struggled with the heavy exterior door. “Calm down,” he said, lifting it aside. “I’ll walk you back to the guild hall. No more zombies.”

Erthor didn’t relax until they reached the vineyards. Then he accepted Jerric’s waterskin, bread, cheese, and an apple, chatting away between bites. In addition to Erthor’s own research with summoning, it sounded as if he and Adrienne were engaged in some kind of joint project. The details were incomprehensible to Jerric. He debated using his Arcane Well for the rest of the conversation.

When Erthor paused for a breath, Jerric glanced over at him. Even after days underground terrorized by zombies, the Bosmer had a pleasant demeanor and a spring in his step. His hair looked silky and thick, and he had a decent set of shoulders, unlike many mages. Jerric still didn’t know how Lildereth’s taste ran, other than not to Nords. This Erthor might have a chance with her. Gods knew she could use a tumble.

“So Erthor, are you single? I mean, I know you live in a cave. But are you seeing anyone?”

Erthor gave Jerric a look of abject horror.

“No!” Jerric said quickly. “I have a friend. She—”

The mer looked on the brink of fleeing again.

Jerric sighed. “Never mind.”

[SubRosa]

It was incomprehensible to Jerric that Adrienne had not sent someone earlier to check on the welfare of one of her mages.
As you said, the difference between the this as Kud-Ei's guild hall are startling. For some reason whenever a Breton woman becomes the leader of a Mages Guild hall, they become distracted air-heads.

Jerric should have brought Darnand along. Zombies are right up his alley after all. Hopefully Jerric will carve up some rotting flesh to take back to Darnand for his 'necessities'.

and his mouth felt coated in zombie smoke.
Ewww, you just had to make me imagine the stench of burning zombie!

That’s the prettiest male I’ve ever seen, thought Jerric.
Uh oh, I think Jerric has spent too much time in lockups... Abiene might have some competition. Especially with Erthor shoving his bulging sack at Jerric.

“Come on, what are you waiting for? Summon another one. Let’s kill it!”
For once it is the Nord who is mad, and not the Bosmer! This would also mean that not only could you teleport zombies from somewhere else, but anyone. A great way to assassinate people.

Gods knew she could use a tumble.
No arguments here! I just loved Erthor's natural thought when Jerric asked him out on a date. Erm, I mean when he asked him to ask Lildreth out on a date!

[King Coin]

Zombies. Gross.

The leather over his chest was darkened where a Tongue of Fire spell had flared back toward him close enough to singe it.
Yikes!

Erthor sounds like quite the character!

If Erthor is telling the truth then there is a really pissed off necromancer! That’s so funny!

OHMYGOSH
The end is just too good!!!

[haute ecole rider]

I have totally enjoyed your version of Erthor! He was quite a fun companion on the long walk back to Skingrad. Sometimes I think he is the only one with sense in that guild, and thus his isolation out at Bleak Flats must be welcome. Except for the zombies, that is.

Another explanation for the zombies in that cave! Especially since they stick around after you 'kill' them. Liked this one very, very much!

The ending made me laugh out loud. I wonder if Erthor ever progressed past the Bosmer equivalent of the ten-year-old 'girls, eww!' stage!

[mALX]

ROFL !! Erthor's portrayal was hilarious !!! And that he caused the issue himself even more so - the patting the hair and brushing off his clothing was the icing on the cake - loved it !! Awesome Write !!

[Acadian]

What a completely delightful episode this was! How you can cause your readers to smile, giggle and grin through killing a cave full of zombies is truly testimony to your impressive skill.

It was incomprehensible to Jerric that Adrienne had not sent someone earlier to check on the welfare of one of her mages.’
I agree with SubRosa on this. Kud-Ei ('I’d do anything for my girls'), Carahil or Sigrid Firewalker would never have allowed this.

’Even Lildereth can’t open a lock that isn’t there, he thought. With a certain degree of smugness, he reached for his axe.’
This is Jerric to a tee!

“Well, I guess you can come with me now.”
“Are you sure they’re all gone? I can leave the cave? You’re heading back to Skingrad, aren’t you? And I could come with you? Oh, thank you! I’m ever so grateful!”
How wonderfully the slow drawling speech and ideas of Jerric contrast with the clipped but bubbling sentences and thoughts of Erthor.

What a clever misunderstanding-based ending you treated us to! You set it up and presented it with perfection. Something tells me however, Jerric is likely no better at matchmaking than baking soufflés or opening locks. Touching that he was unselfishly thinking of his friend Lildereth though.

[Zalphon]

You're way too good at doing Bosmer, Grits. Are you one in real life?

[McBadgere]

This whole section for some reason made me think of Star Wars, from the "I'm Jerric, I'm here to rescue you." to this bit...

Gods knew she could use a tumble.

Oh, that made me laugh... ...

Reminded me of Han Solo shouting "You could use a good kiss!!" at Leia... ...

Just saying...

Most excellent chapter...

Brilliant...Nice one... ...

[Grits]

Folks, thank you for your patience. Thank you for reading. And thank you very much for your wonderful support! It’s been a rough couple of weeks, but yesterday was like coming out of a cave. And not a nice cave like Erthor’s with carpets and zombies.

SubRosa: Erthor’s bulging sack, I completely missed that. OMG. It was fun to think about what Jerric would imagine Lildereth would look for in a mer. At least his heart was in the right place. Poor Erthor. I think we can assume that sweaty, soot-streaked Nord maniacs are not on the menu.

King Coin: Erthor is one of my favorite NPCs, so this was a fun episode to write. I’m glad you liked Jerric’s little Speechcraft fail.

haute ecole rider: I love Erthor, he’s so charming and appreciative of being rescued. He’s even sweet to Adrienne when he gets back, hopping right into bed with her even though she’s mean to him.

mALX: I’m glad you liked Erthor! The comments people make about him in the game made me think he must have a history of major screw-ups. It always cracks me up to see him looking so clean and cute after the player has fought their way through the zombie slaughterhouse.

Acadian: You’re so right, Jerric’s thinking fell short of his good intentions on this one. Taking a friend to a brothel does not qualify as a successful match. I love that you picked out those lines of dialog. The contrast between them was the inspiration of the whole episode.

Zalphon: I have been accused of relentless cheer.

McBadgere: I was giggling like a fiend when that rescue line popped out. That scene in Star Wars came to my mind, too! Too bad I couldn’t think of anywhere to go with the “short for a Stormtrooper” line.


Where we are: Evening at the Skingrad Mages Guild. Jerric has rescued Erthor from zombies at Bleak Flats Cave.




Chapter 13: Skingrad, Part Five


Dinner at the guild hall had been a crowded, noisy affair. Lildereth and Darnand had to sit at separate tables, and Jerric simply took his filled plate and headed out the back door with Ulfe. The bathing chamber had been equally busy, but a hot shower was worth waiting for. Eventually Jerric returned to the bedchamber with a towel around his neck, anxious for his friends’ company.

He found Lildereth sitting in the middle of one bed in her nightdress, running a brush through her hair. Darnand lounged in a chair with a book in his hands, also ready for bed. Ulfe lay across Darnand’s feet. Jerric moved around the room, stowing his gear and arranging his blades.

Darnand addressed him as he slipped a dagger under the pillow. “How goes the recharging?”

Jerric grimaced. “Not great. Vigge said I should be glad I can do it at all, most folks can’t. That means skitt to me. I need to keep my sword charged, not one of these little light crystals.”

Darnand and Lildereth looked blank. “Try again,” said Lildereth.

Jerric took a moment to organize his words. “I use too much magicka for what I can transfer to the enchantment. A glow stone or an ice chest doesn’t need much energy, but a sword does. Practice will make me better, but I’ll never be able to keep my weapons fully charged without magicka gems and soul energy. I guess that’s why rechargers work at the guild halls and battlemages pay them.”

“Vigge must have anticipated this result,” Darnand pointed out. “I cannot imagine that he would share this spell with you for no reason.”

“I’ll send some power into my sword every time I drink a magicka potion. Like you said, my potions are stronger than I can use. The two or three strikes I get might be enough to save a life one day. I guess that’s what Vigge was thinking. He sure wasn’t worried that I’d set up a recharging service.”

“You might keep a dagger charged on your own,” said Lildereth. “Do you not keep a filled gem specifically for charging one of your daggers?”

“Yeah. The one with the spell to trap soul energy.” Jerric grinned at her. “You’re a fount of cheer tonight, elf. What happened, did you get Druja to eat a bug?”

The song of a bedstead began in the next chamber, filtering through the adjoining wall.

“Adrienne has company,” Jerric observed.

“Erthor,” said Lildereth.

“Is she still scolding him, or apologizing?”

Darnand glanced up from his book. “Will your spell that reduces sound work on intervening surfaces, or only upon the source of the noise?” he asked Lildereth.

“Sadly, just the source,” she replied.

“I guess you hear a lot that you rather wouldn’t,” Jerric said to her. “I mean around us round-ears.”

“And smell,” she said, giving his boots a pointed look.

Jerric placed his boots outside the door. Lildereth put away her brush and opened a jar of skin cream. Jerric moved to the chest of drawers and emptied his pockets. He didn’t need to read Abiene’s letter to remember every word.

“Did you get to talk to Abiene through your crystal ball tonight?” he asked Darnand.

“Indeed. I am glad you reminded me. I would like your advice.”

“All right.” Jerric leaned against the chest and gave Darnand his attention.

“She has a patient that has received an injury to the brain,” Darnand continued. “He is unable to speak, but he seems to understand what is said to him. You recall the healing she performed on your brow. She wants to attempt such a restoration on this man. However, her concerns are significant and in my opinion well-founded. She has asked me to advise her.”

“Are you asking me what you should tell her?” Jerric asked. “Well, that’s easy. She doesn’t want you to decide for her, she just wants your ‘support.’ She already knows what she’s going to do, no matter what you say. Yeah, I know. Women. So don’t be worried that you’ll tell her wrong. Just tell her what you think is right.”

Darnand looked completely baffled. “What do you think she should do?”

“Explain the risk to the man. Do it if he agrees.”

“She could be thrown out of the Mages Guild if it goes badly,” Darnand objected. “She could lose her position at the chapel.”

“What’s the use of all that if she’s afraid to heal the way she’s meant to? Screw them all if they don’t like it. She’s tougher than she thinks, and what she can do for folk can’t be taken away from her. She won’t end up sleeping under a hedge, no matter what. Tell her she already knows the answer. And you trust her judgment.”

Darnand looked thoughtful. So did Lildereth.

“Do you think I’m wrong?” Jerric asked her.

“No. I’m just… I suppose I am surprised.”

“Why?”

Lildereth gave her crooked smile. “There’s no way to answer that without insulting you.”

“How is this time any different?”

Lildereth’s reply was lost when the door to Adrienne’s chamber opened and closed with a bang.

She caught Jerric’s eye. “Sulinus has joined them.” Her impish smile told him what his ears could not.

They both looked at Darnand. The Breton was staring thoughtfully at the floor, either declining this opportunity to advance his education or oblivious to it.

“I need to remember to train with Sulinus,” Jerric said to Darnand. “He has the weakness spells you were talking about.”

Darnand made no reply.

“I found the Aetherius Stone.” Jerric announced. “We’ll need to go back when the stars are out.”

No response from the Breton.

“You could use him as a garment rack right now,” said Lildereth. Jerric thought that was kinder than the pranks he had been considering.

Jerric took the dog outside one more time before he climbed into bed. Ulfe jumped up while he was arranging himself. By the time they finished wrestling, Lildereth and Darnand were tucked neatly under their blankets. At some point one of them had covered the light.

___

Jerric walked through the green meadow in silence. It wasn’t silence, he decided, so much as the absence of sound. He saw the grass brush against his thighs, but his skin didn’t feel it. The sun was behind him, home somewhere ahead. Beyond those rocks, he thought. Past the trees. He didn’t recognize the place, but somehow he had been there.

He turned his head, and he was lying in the dark, in total comfort. The scent of lavender reached him first, then beeswax and leather. Home. Wordless joy filled him. It had all been a dream.

I thought I was the Lion of Kvatch, he laughed. How Ma will tease when I tell her.

It’s a trick, the dark whispered.

He had no breath to deny it. The bed fell away from under his hands, then from under his shoulders, like swiftly crumbling sand.

A voice called to him, light as a breeze.

Jerric opened his eyes to dim light on a coffered ceiling, but not like home. He closed his eyes and tried to take a breath.

“It’s me,” Lildereth whispered. She knelt on the very edge of his bed in the light of a glow stone. Her hair made a dark curtain to her elbows. Jerric could hear Darnand’s slow breathing in the other bed.

He realized that his hand was empty. “I moved your daggers before I woke you,” she told him. “And your knife.”

“Probably for the best.” Jerric rubbed his eyes. “I’m sorry I disturbed you. But thanks. You woke me before the fire this time.”

“I think you already had that dream. That’s when Ulfe jumped down, she’s over there with Darnand. We decided to let you go all the way through it. You quieted for a time, and he fell back asleep. But then you…” Lildereth reached down and brushed his cheek with the backs of her fingers. He realized that his face was wet.

“I thought I was home.” Saying it made his throat ache.

Lildereth started to reach for his hand, then pulled back. “Who is Martin?”

She has my trust, thought Jerric. But I can’t give her Martin’s. “I hope you can meet him some day. Are you going back over there or staying?”

Lildereth leaned over and covered the glow stone. Then she slipped under his arm and curled her back against his side. He smiled when she flipped her hair out from under. Her feet were ice against his leg.

“Try not to crush me,” she murmured, settling the covers.

“If you promise not to paralyze me.”

“Agreed. But only for tonight.”



.

This post has been edited by Grits: Nov 20 2011, 07:45 PM

[mALX]

Holy Cow what a chapter !! So many places to cite - argh!! First, I wish Jerric had NOT put the letter in the drawer where it can be easily come across without any actual snooping intended. He should have left it in the pocket of his pants. That worries me.

Second: The hilarious bedroom antics.

Third: The huge discussion on the use of gems to recharge, your world building is amazing !!!

Fourth: The dream - very powerfully done !!

Lastly - Lildereth. If anything can bring her fully into the fold of friendship between Darnand and Jerric it is this, she is now party to Jerric's secrets and the keeping of them - because I doubt she can't feel the importance of the name Martin somehow. I believe she'll know there is a deeper meaning to that. Then also, she has really come to realize the memories that haunt him - maybe not specifically, but now she is a part of the comfort that helps him through them.

HUGE WRITE !!! I have to place this in the top of all my favorite Jerric chapters, Awesome Write !!!