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

[treydog]

Back when it seemed a good idea to transfer to my Kindle and annotate there... Well- I have a history with "good ideas."

All of which is to say- there are comments- I will locate them- and I will post them. Because this story DESERVES whatever small accolades I can provide.

[Grits]

McBadgere: Thank you, McBadgere! Poor Darnand, unraveling arcane mysteries while his friend bounces sticks off of his head.

SubRosa: I had the same feeling about the sex magic, once it popped into my head I thought of course that’s what they’re doing! Campfire scenes are so fun to write. Thank you, SubRosa!

mALX: It’s so tempting to make Baurus hide out in a brothel now! I miss Rachel’s story. Thank you for pointing out Kvatch’s beard-growing in honor of their hero.

Acadian: If I tried to write Lildereth out, she would simply not allow it! I’m having enough trouble with Abiene annoyed over being shuttled off to Chorrol. Both of them have planted the seeds for short pieces of their own while I’ve been so distracted lately. Thank you, Acadian! Rilian just sat down by the fire like he belonged there. Thank you so much for letting Flash, Kip, Banner, and Ulfe frolic in the wonderful Valley of Horses while their two-legged friends visit the Imperial City!

King Coin: Thank you, KC! I love giving Darnand his irritable mage moments. I’m glad you pointed out that line, I actually thought of you when I wrote that part.

treydog: Thank you, treydog! Your comments are so very appreciated.

Where we are: The Imperial City. Darnand and Lildereth are off pursuing their own interests. Jerric and Rilian bring a message from Kvatch to the Elder Council. This episode turned out shorter than ususal, because... it just did.




Chapter 14: The Imperial City, Part Two


Jerric stepped through the door, past the Palace Guards, and out of the White Gold Tower’s shadow. He closed his eyes for a moment, drinking the sunlight in through his eyelids. The breeze was as fresh as any the Imperial City had to offer. The air in the council chamber had felt lifeless and thick.

He turned when he heard footsteps. Rilian stood grinding his teeth with his sword belt in one hand, the Colovian Signet Ring clenched in the other.

“I thought that went well,” Jerric ventured, buckling his own belt.

“They didn’t solve anything, just postponed their decision,” Rilian fumed. “Acting Steward is not Steward, and a Steward is not a Count.”

“None of those is a prisoner. They could have handed you a writ for Savlian’s arrest and told you to bring him back for questioning. Anyway, they’re nowhere near deciding on the next count, and there hasn’t been an heir since the Goldwine lads were killed. For now Savlian is Kvatch’s highest authority, whatever they want to call him. Why did they make you keep the ring?”

Rilian opened his hand and looked at it resting in his palm. “To give Savlian their approval without actually stating it. The new count will get the ring from Acting Steward Matius. Then he can make Matius his Steward if he wants, and give him the job he’s already been doing. Loyalty for nothing! Captain Matius…” Rilian clenched his teeth over the words. The ring disappeared back into his fist.

“Jesan.” Jerric waited until Rilian looked up at him. “You made our city proud today. It was decided before we ever got here. And it’s done. Savlian can lead the city as long as those old fetchers in there keep dragging their feet, no matter what they call him.” He gripped the young man’s shoulder. “Now let’s find some of that Nibenean pale ale and see about getting you laid.”

Rilian still looked furious.

“I know a brothel,” Jerric continued. “I wasn’t offering personally.”

Rilian battled himself for a moment. “It can’t be past three bells of the afternoon. I could get as far as Weye, and…” Eventually he managed a weak smile. “We ought to change out of uniform first.”

“Good thinking.” Jerric looked around the circular plaza. “Now, which way is the damnable inn?”

Rilian’s outlook improved considerably after the brothel. The two of them strolled along the water on the way back to the Elven Gardens District. Jerric marveled at the engineering that washed filth into the sewers while keeping surface waters clean. It seemed that nothing was wasted in a city with this many folk. Any scrap that dropped to the ground was scooped back up by thin hands. Even a slip of paper could feed someone’s fire.

The King and Queen Tavern provided a royal feast and thrones to sit upon while dining. Jerric and Rilian put away mountains of roasted vegetables, spit-cooked beef, boiled potatoes with Colovian butter, sliced glass-house tomatoes, and pitchers of pale, bitter ale. They talked a little of the future, but mostly they traded memories. Eventually Jerric pulled Rilian to his feet before his face could land in the pie plate.

“Up,” Jerric told him. “Bed. Sleep in tomorrow. You’ve earned it.”

Rilian answered with a mumble. Jerric reversed his direction and dragged him out to the privy.

Back in the room, Rilian proved easy to manage.

“Boots,” said Jerric. “Blanket. All right, here’s a bucket. Rilian! If you need it, here’s a bucket.”

Jerric left Rilian curled in the center of the bed while he moved to the desk. Parchment, quill, and ink had thoughtfully been provided. Jerric drank some water to clear his head. He did not believe he was a strong letter-writer, and this one was important.

Rilian-


If I’m not back when you read this, it means I got involved with things and I’m still busy. Go ahead back to Kvatch. We said farewell last night, in case you don’t remember. Sorry about your headache. Drink all the water in the pitcher, get to the privy, then take the potion. Curse me all you want, in the end it will be worth it.

I sat up awhile after you passed out while you slept and thought about what you said to me. Here’s what I have to say back.

Rilian, you are no man’s squire. It would honor me to fight by your side again, as an equal. Maybe someday we will get that chance. But right now I can’t take you with me.

I can’t tell you to stay in Kvatch either, but I hope you will. You are a Kvatch Wolf, a warrior. There won’t ever be any more of us that knew Kvatch before she burned. Whether you stay or not, you stand among her heroes. Here is my wish for you.

Go home. Defend our city and keep her proud. Pick out a piece of land with Captain Acting Steward Matius and let him build a manor for you. Find a good woman and start making little Rilians. Otherwise, what are we fighting for? (Also let your heart pick your lady, not just your member. But get a peek at her Ma if you can, just in case the gods are good and one day you wake up old together, then you won’t be surprised.)

I know I’m telling you your life, but I’ve had more ale than I planned and I hope you will forgive me. You can really hold your drink for an Imperial.


Your friend,

Jerric

He looked around the room while the ink dried. Savlian had chosen well for them. Cheerful paintings and homey tapestries covered every wall. The furnishings were spotless and placed for maximum convenience. The proprietor had even moved arming racks into their room while they were meeting with the Elder Council. Jerric thought it might be years before Rilian would sleep again in a chamber this comfortable.

He folded the letter and placed it next to the water pitcher. This is no time to watch an Imperial sleep, he told himself, buckling his sword belt while he did just that. Rilian looked impossibly young. Jerric could still see the scar on his throat.

He resisted the urge to tuck in the blankets. Instead he picked up his cloak and slipped out the door.

Message or no message, it was time to find Baurus.

[Acadian]

This was fabulous! You let J & J tell us what happened with the Elder Fetchers Council. The brothel was a great idea for an afternoon pick me up!

’Any scrap that dropped to the ground was scooped back up by thin hands.’
I am so envious of this sentence! What an efficient and perfect image you crafted here of hard life in the big city! Bravo!

Jerric’s letter was stunningly good and pure Jerric. I love the touches you put in about telling Jesan to settle down with a good woman and the hope that the young wolf would stay in Kvatch. Jerric didn’t sacrifice a bit of his Jerricness here, but he sure did display a caravan load of wisdom.

[SubRosa]

“I know a brothel,” Jerric continued. “I wasn’t offering personally.”
This gave me more then a faint smile.

Any scrap that dropped to the ground was scooped back up by thin hands.
As Acadian already said, this was a wonderful little statement, that says so much.

But get a peek at her Ma if you can, just in case the gods are good and one day you wake up old together, then you won’t be surprised.
This is good advice, that most men just do not seem to grok.

Jerric could still see the scar on his throat.
I had forgotten about that until now. Excellent decision of yours to put that little observation in.

So, now we have gotten the obligatory waste of time with the Elder Council out of the way. Next up Jerric will go meet someone who actually gets things done, and I suspect we will see some progress being made in the Oblivion Crisis once more.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Jan 22 2012, 04:51 AM

[King Coin]

King Coin: Thank you, KC! I love giving Darnand his irritable mage moments. I’m glad you pointed out that line, I actually thought of you when I wrote that part.

I've actually done things like that line depicted too.

Lol, Jerric and Rilian have a night on the town. Love it! The letter was the best part though. I know other have said this before, but it was just so Jerric! His advice and hopes layed out for Rilian. This is probably what he wishes he could do.

[McBadgere]

That's absolutely brilliant that is...

Oh hells I loved that...*Applauds*...

Of the many Lols...These were my faves...

“Now let’s find some of that Nibenean pale ale and see about getting you laid.”

Rilian still looked furious.

“I know a brothel,” Jerric continued. “I wasn’t offering personally.”

And...

“Up,” Jerric told him. “Bed. Sleep in tomorrow. You’ve earned it.”

Rilian answered with a mumble. Jerric reversed his direction and dragged him out to the privy.

Thems just funny right there, thems is... ...

Love it love it love it...

Nice one!!... ...

*Applauds heartily*...

[mALX]

This chapter was so Jerric, infused with his personality. Loved everything about it - most especially his drunken ramblings in the letter to Rilian with the crossed out places. Awesome Write !!!!

This post has been edited by mALX: Jan 22 2012, 08:01 AM

[treydog]

Comments for Chapter 10:

[quote]“I knew it. That s’wit! Oh, I’ll get her. You just wait! Must have taken some fast talking to get her to confess.”

“Not really. I’m not so good at that. I guess the part where I stood there in the dark being a Nord was enough to get her talking.”[/quote]

A distinct possibility- and perhaps one reason why Azzan took him on in the Fighters Guild.

And of course the whole “extra work for the client” passage had me laughing.

[quote]She sat with one of his books in her lap and a clay cup at her elbow. Her smile started to warm him from the inside out.[/quote]

Yes.

The interaction with Varel Morvayn was another highlight, especially when you add the concept that repair hammers are not simply mundane tools, but are powered by enchantments of their own.

And then- yet another quite brilliant section with the removal of the scar tissue. And the meditation on the uncomfortably close relationship between Restoration and Necromancy.

[quote]He felt hurt in a way that he wanted to deny. “I trusted you, but you didn’t trust me,” he explained. The new distance between them was worse than the betrayal, he decided.[/quote]

Here you show your great skill at describing the difficulties of relationships, even among well-meaning people.

[quote]I believe there is a war coming that has nothing to do with daedra. Half of the Council of Mages resigned when Traven became Arch-Mage. Many others left with them. They did not just go join the Bakers Guild.”[/quote]

Which explanation makes me feel some better about Darnand’s studies.

[quote]The pretty Redguard woman, he decided. I’m unlikely to kill her.[/quote]

With those lines and the weighing of options just before it, you show wonderfully how far Jerric still has to go.

[quote]He bit his tongue to keep from asking what she thought he assumed the valuable thing was. He didn’t have a clue, and his curiosity needled him.[/quote]

By the Nine! Arvena’s teaching DID help!

And I also like the way you both point out- and then resolve- the inconsistency of Maelona and Gogan’s story.

Oh poor Darnand. Volunteered as bait for a reverse honey trap!

[quote]“Twenty seconds is plenty. Any longer sounds too much like a fair fight. I’m not in the honor business, just killing.”[/quote]

Spoken like someone who has been inside an Oblivion Gate.

The discussion of the sigil stones is chilling- and also makes a lot of sense.

[quote]Her spirit always filled her the way light fills a room, spilling over into the darkness outside.[/quote]

Wow. That just… wow.

And then- you feed us. Woo Hoo!

The banter at the Fighters Guild rings wonderfully true.

And then poor Norbert’s idea of keeping things “confidential.” Which goes a long way toward explaining what Jerric will discover.

[quote]His palm found Redeemer’s hilt in the gesture that now served to ground him. Knight Brother of the Blades, he told himself. Go train, fool.[/quote]

Excellent bit of internal struggle there.

[quote]“I know how an enchanted weapon works. If it needs recharging before we’re through, tough. When you see a dremora, your hand will reach for the blade you’ve trained with. You can be killed in the time it takes to think it through. Are you done moaning? Then let’s get some practice.”[/quote]

Wonderful advice. It HAS to be all reflex and muscle memory.

The memory of Jerric’s first love again tells us so much about him- and why we love him in turn.

[quote]“What did you call Rhano’s father?” asked Darnand.

Jerric and Rhano shared a look. “Sir.”[/quote]

That brought a smile.

[quote]A blood-drenched Nord with a sword in his hand gets attention even at midnight in a dive bar, Jerric discovered.[/quote]

I can see how that might happen.

[quote]They look at me and think, ‘There goes a man on his way to a killing. Maybe he’ll stop and do some raping first.’ So I start off with a smile.”[/quote]

So perfect a statement of his own doubts and his personality.

[quote]Fjirsten would love this, he thought. Yellow is her favorite color.

He had left himself completely unguarded. The black pit he carried inside simply reached up and swallowed him. Grief took his sight.[/quote]

And yes. It sneaks up on you just like that.

[quote]“I think I’ve shown you my views on that subject. Now whenever I see a peony in bloom, I’ll think of you.” I wonder if I’ll see spring, he suddenly thought.[/quote]

The bittersweet of that reminds me powerfully of seeing the daffodils pushing up through the snow.

I would have to quote the entire posts regarding the glass house and the marsh to highlight the “good parts,” because they are good in their entirety. Your descriptive powers are on full display.

[quote]“What were you about to do?”

“Take a bath. Wash the blood out of my hair. Lie awake and listen to dead women screaming.”[/quote]

And that says more than all the "debriefing" in the world would manage.

[quote]There is one more lesson I would have you teach me before you leave for Chorrol, Magister. How does a healer care for herself?”

Abiene’s mind leaped straight to Jerric. Find someone who loves you and don’t let them go, she thought.[/quote]

And the conversation with Thaurron was simply delightful- filled with kindness, and melancholy, and truths that we prefer not to examine too closely.

[quote]The man I wanted might finally turn toward me, she thought. But I’ve reached for the one who’s going to walk away.[/quote]

Ah. So much is conveyed in that seemingly simple statement.

[quote]“Uh, no. The gods will find me if they want something.”[/quote]

They have a way of doing that- yes.

[quote]The smile left her face. “People are always measuring me, checking to see if I’m doing anything wrong. Not everyone, but sometimes it’s too much. When you look at me, I know you just see who I am. I don’t have to guard myself with you, Jerric.”[/quote]

Sounds like a good basis for love.

[quote]He knew what she was asking. “I can’t hope for us and still do what I need to. I guess a better man could. I’d just keep wanting to take you away somewhere and keep you safe.” He brushed his thumb under her eye, gathering her tears. “There’s a lot for you to live for, Abiene. It’s going to get darker, but there’s still a way through it.”[/quote]

And again- the shadow that hangs over Jerric even when he is walking in the light of the Gold Coast.

[Grits]

Acadian: Thank you so much, Acadian! Hearing that the letter was pure Jerric is just music to my ears. That’s the very best I could hope for!

SubRosa: That “I wasn’t offering personally” line comes from Deadwood, and it’s pretty much the only thing said in that show that I can put in this forum. It seemed to suit Jerric perfectly. Glad it gave a chuckle. Thank you, SubRosa!

King Coin: You’re right, Jerric’s wish for Rilian is exactly what he would do himself if he could. He even has a letter from a good woman saying that she’s his. Thank you for pointing that out! It really means a lot.

McBadgere: Thank you, McB! It’s fun to put some giggles in there with the anxious moments.

mALX: Thank you, mALX! Jerric has never seemed so real to me as when he wrote that letter, crossed out parts and all.

treydog: Thank you so much for your comments! I am awed, humbled, and inspired. I’m sure you can tell the relationships are the most important part for me. Many of the quotes you highlighted were the reasons for their whole section, so you can imagine I did quite a lot of nodding and smiling while I read your comments. I truly appreciate the time you spend with this story!

Where we are: The Imperial City. Darnand and Lildereth are off pursuing their own interests. Jerric and Rilian spoke before the Elder Council, who named Savlian Matius Acting Steward of Kvatch until a new count can be chosen. Jerric and Rilian shared an evening of relaxation. We find Jerric seeking out Baurus.




Chapter 14: The Imperial City, Part Three


Jerric stepped out of the King and Queen Tavern into a mild, foggy night. Moisture makes the alleys more fragrant, he noted. Then he added his own layer to the mix, standing far enough away from the wall to avoid splashback. A few turns down the sparsely populated streets served to clear his head. If he was lucky enough to find Baurus tonight, he hoped to make a decent impression.

The ground floor of Luther Broad’s Boarding House contained a public room with dining tables and a long bar. A staircase rose along the wall behind it, and Jerric guessed there would be access to the cellar on the far side. A closed door near the foot of the stairs was the room’s only other exit.

Only a few folk occupied tables at this hour, and each of them seemed absorbed by whatever circumstance had them drinking alone at a low-rent tavern in this largely residential district. Jerric’s attention went to the man behind the bar.

An experienced barman would immediately mark Jerric as a brawler and glance either at his own hired muscle or toward whatever other patron he was already watching for signs of trouble. The man behind the bar at Luther Broad’s proved no exception. Jerric watched the publican size him up, then look briefly into the far corner. Jerric followed his glance as he walked toward the bar.

A gray-haired man sat reading at the small corner table. His stature suggested Imperial or Breton heritage. Jerric didn’t see a weapon. He decided not to use magic if events turned violent. Neither race would have native resistance to a beating. The man didn’t seem to notice Jerric.

The Redguard seated at the bar noticed him. He sat with his shoulders slumped, but tension radiated through his frame. Jerric looked for a katana, but this man carried a shorter, straight blade. It didn’t matter. His gut knew Baurus.

“Sit down,” Baurus said quietly before Jerric could speak. “Don’t say anything. I’m being watched.”

Jerric took a seat to Baurus’ right, leaving an empty stool between them. The barman swiped the counter with his rag and pushed a bowl of ironwood nuts at Jerric. “What’ll it be?”

For a moment Jerric thought he shouldn’t answer. Then he realized that he shouldn’t say anything to Baurus. Perhaps he ought to have spent more time pacing the streets before plunging back into his role as agent for the Blades.

“Mead,” Jerric said. He placed a five-Septim coin on the bar. “Surprise me.”

“Surprise you with mead?” said the barman, raising an eyebrow. “That’s a tall order. I’ve got a barrel in the back. Maybe it’ll do.” He stepped through the door without further comment.

“Listen,” Baurus said. “I’m going to get up in a minute and walk out of here. That guy in the corner will follow me. You follow him.”

“Got it,” said Jerric.

“Good,” Baurus said into his tankard. “I want to see what he’ll do.”

Baurus walked around and passed through the cellar door. The gray-haired man quickly rose to follow him. After a moment, Jerric followed the man.

The stairway led to a wide, well-lit landing before it turned to the left into shadow. Jerric closed the door silently behind him. He stepped down. Reddish light flared from around the corner, accompanied by the ripping sound of a daedric summoning. Jerric took the remaining stairs in a leap.

“For Lord Dago-argh!”

Jerric spun around the corner to find an armored man on his knees, one arm raised behind him at an uncomfortable looking angle. Baurus gripped the man’s wrist in his left hand. His sword was at the man’s throat. Sick fury surged up Jerric’s throat when he recognized the red robes and daedric armor.

“Paradise awaits me,” the man hissed, eyes showing white. Then he erupted into flames.

Jerric and Baurus fell back, coughing. “He burned from the inside out!” Jerric exclaimed. “How did he do that?”

“A scroll, maybe,” said Baurus. He prodded the remains with his toe as the fire died out. “You search the body. I’ll check upstairs in case any of his friends are nearby.” Baurus disappeared around the corner.

Jerric knelt, struggling with emotion. It was too late to kill this man again, no matter how much he wanted to. He cooled the body with frost before he tried to touch it. His squeamish search yielded three coins, a buckle, and a key.

“I’ll see if Luther knows where that key is from,” said Baurus, making Jerric jump. He hadn’t heard him return.

Jerric rose and stood slack-jawed for a moment. He didn’t know which question to ask first.

“Luther Broad,” Baurus explained patiently. “The man upstairs. Like it says on the sign. He’s a friend. Not one to trust completely, though, so guard your tongue.”

The sign doesn’t make my innkeepers a king and a queen, Jerric thought, but he decided not to argue. He took a closer look at the sticky key. “Say, that looks like…” He fished the key out of his own pocket and held the two in his palm. The bows of both keys were shaped like a crown. “This fatherless toad was staying across the street, I’d wager. At the King and Queen Tavern.”

Baurus grinned. “Good work. I am glad to see you, by the way. You just caught me at a bad time.”

“Yeah,” said Jerric, glancing down at the blackened bones. And they think I’m trouble.

“This one was alone,” Baurus said. “Let’s search his room. You go over first. I’ll follow.”

On the upper level of the King and Queen Tavern, Baurus tried the key until they found the cultist’s room. “Two doors down from me and Rilian,” Jerric mused. “Do you think he knew who I am?”

“Could be.” Baurus locked the door behind them. “Two fellows in Kvatch Guard livery visiting the Elder Council, it’s not hard to peg you as the Hero of Kvatch. Do you have anything with you that might tie you to Martin?”

Jerric blinked at him. “Uh, no. Oh wait. My Blades helmet.”

Baurus passed a hand across his eyes.

“No,” Jerric continued. “It’s with my gear at Equestria.”

“Thank Talos for that,” said Baurus. “I can’t think of any place safer. Look in the desk. Let’s see if we can at least identify this fetcher.”

Baurus moved to the cupboard. Jerric reached for the book sitting out on the desk. “Commentaries on the Mysterium Xarxes, Book One,” he read out loud.

That got Baurus’ attention. “Here’s our evidence,” he said. “We know the assassins who killed the Emperor were part of a daedric cult known as the Mythic Dawn. They worship the Daedra Lord Mehrunes Dagon. I’ve been tracking their agents here in the city. I guess they noticed.”

“Yeah, I recognized the conjured armor. These same mother humpers got the Amulet.”

“I heard.”

“Where’s their headquarters? They should have a shrine or something.”

Baurus gave him a patient look. “That’s what I’d like to know, Jerric. We are all anxious to pay them a visit.” He began to search the desk. “This is a secretive group, very difficult to track. I haven’t been able to collect any real evidence, until now. Those that I have tried to question all ended like… Astav Wirich.” He held up a letter.

“Uh,” said Jerric.

“We believe the Mythic Dawn think they have secured their victory by killing Martin at Kvatch and stealing the Amulet of Kings from Weynon Priory. Their next move is unclear. They seem to be focused on recruiting new members, in a very cautious manner. In my opinion it is only a matter of time before someone visits Kvatch to gloat and learns of Martin’s survival. When they connect you to Martin, they will use you to get to him. Anyone close to you will be at risk. But for now there is no reason to associate you with the Blades, even if you are recognized as the Hero of Kvatch.”

“And Brother Piner, and the others at the Priory? Even if they don’t figure out about me, they know the Amulet was there.”

“Their lives are at risk as well. I can see that you would protect them. You do not have that luxury. You must view them as fellow soldiers in this war. Even in monks’ robes that is what they are.”

“So when folk start attacking me, that will mean they figured it out. And they might go after my friends.”

“That is my belief. I suggest you put aside your Kvatch Wolf shield and surcoat. Without them you could be any blond Nord, with or without a scar on your brow, bearded or clean-shaven.”

Jerric had new respect for his Knight-Brother’s intelligence gathering. “Thanks, Baurus.” He shook his head regretfully. “I put a fire shield enchantment on my Blades helmet. I’d hate to go into the Deadlands without it.”

Baurus rubbed his hands over his face while his teeth made a small sound grinding together. “Are you telling me you have been wearing…” His hands made a twisting motion.

“Yeah,” Jerric said, abashed. “But most folk who have seen me in it are dead. Well, all but a few, and I trust them.”

Baurus fixed a glare on him. “You do not get to make that judgment. The Emperor could only have been betrayed by someone very close to him. It’s possible the person didn’t even know what they had done. Our man is safe in Cloud Ruler Temple, from everyone but us.” He bit the last word off with a grimace.

Jerric thought for a moment. “So maybe they already found me, and they’re hoping I’ll lead them to Martin?”

Baurus nodded. “The fortress is protected from anyone you might inadvertently lead there, though the enemy does not know that. The danger is that you might bring someone inside. Someone, as you said, that you trust.”

Jerric felt like a child unable to follow the adults’ conversation. “I guess I can’t trust anyone.”

Baurus nodded again. “Now you’re learning.”

Jerric opened the book and glanced over the first few lines. Greetings, novitiate, and know first a reassurance: Mankar Camoran was once like you, asleep, unwise, protonymic. We mortals leave the dreaming-sleeve of birth the same, unmantled save for the symbiosis with our mothers, thus to practice and thus to rapprochement…

He snapped the book closed with a groan. “Baurus, maybe you should take a look at this.”

Baurus shook his head after a moment’s reading. “There’s a scholar at the Arcane University. Tar-Meena’s her name. Supposed to be an expert on daedric cults. Why don’t you take this book to her, see what she makes of it.”

Jerric took the book back. “All right, I’ll head over in the morning.”

“I’ll keep running down my leads on the Mythic Dawn network. After you meet with Tar-Meena, come find me at Luther Broad’s. This might just be the break we need.”

“Baurus. I have a friend who might like to see this book.”

“The Breton or the Bosmer?”

Jerric blinked again. “Darnand. I’ve known him since before all this.”

Baurus gave him a direct look. “He cannot know about our friends in the north. And be aware that everything you tell him puts him in danger.”

Jerric felt sick again. “All right.”

Baurus gripped his shoulder. “May Talos guide you.” He turned back to the desk.

This post has been edited by Grits: Feb 4 2012, 10:35 PM

[ghastley]

An interesting variation, to have a key on the body, and the book in his room. It makes much more sense than his carrying the bulky thing around with him.

But then Tar-Meena never has to go fetch volume two off a shelf, either. Phintias has volume three in his pocket, etc. Those are little things they could have done in the game, but didn't. Glad you did.

Does your Baurus really distrust everyone, or is it just that he considers everyone fallible?

[King Coin]

I enjoyed Jerric’s insight to the bar. If anyone knows a bar, it’s Jerric.

For a second I thought the bartender was being sarcastic to Jerric about the mead.

Luther’s going to like the pile of ashy bones in his basement.

Damn, Jerric’s getting noticed by the cultists. I kind of figured that it would come to that, but I was enjoying his relative anonymity. I’m most worried about Abiene.

[Acadian]

I agree that it was fun to see Jerric’s mastery of all things bars at work as he described Luther’s pub.

I love how you are working the spy stuff in here!

“Sit down,” Baurus said quietly before Jerric could speak. “Don’t say anything. I’m being watched.”
Jerric took a seat to Baurus’ right, leaving an empty stool between them. The barman swiped the counter with his rag and pushed a bowl of ironwood nuts at Jerric. “What’ll it be?”
For a moment Jerric thought he shouldn’t answer. Then he realized that he shouldn’t say anything to Baurus. Perhaps he ought to have spent more time pacing the streets before plunging back into his role as agent for the Blades.
The way this passage brings out the bolded part is wonderful – how very, very Jerric!

“No,” Jerric continued. “It’s with my gear at Equestria.”
“Thank Talos for that,” said Baurus. “I can’t think of any place safer.
Awww.

’Jerric felt like a child unable to follow the adults’ conversation. “I guess I can’t trust anyone.”
Your masterful portrayal of Baurus to this point so perfectly brought Jerric to this inevitable conclusion.

“Baurus. I have a friend who might like to see this book.”
“The Breton or the Bosmer?”
Jerric blinked again. “Darnand. I’ve known him since before all this.”
I loved this for a couple reasons. First, it showed the depth of Baurus' intelligence gathering – even concerning Jerric. Secondly, it showed how much Jerric relies on the judgment of his brainy Bretonic buddy.

Eeep! I agree with KC's concern about Abiene's safety. If the MD goes after Lildereth on the other hand, it will simply shorten their existence of course.

Nit? ’Only a few folk occupied tables at this hour, and each of them seemed absorbed by whatever circumstance had them drinking alone at a low-rent tavern in {this?} largely residential district.’

This post has been edited by Acadian: Jan 27 2012, 01:46 AM

[SubRosa]

Well that was a quick and ugly disposal of the mythic dawn agent. Spontaneous combustion, what a way to go. When it comes to pure style, it sure beats the old cyanide capsule in the tooth!

I loved the irony of the assassin staying at the same inn as Jerric.

“The fortress is protected from anyone you might inadvertently lead there, though the enemy does not know that. The danger is that you might bring someone inside. Someone, as you said, that you trust.”
Brilliant reasoning here by Baurus. Someone has been on the inside all along, from the Emperor's assassination, to taking the amulet at Weynon. Of course Baurus would be paranoid. After all, they really are out to get him! Perhaps Darnand is really a plant? Or Abiene? The latter would be a very interesting twist.

[McBadgere]

I like Baurus... ...Verrah verrah cool... ...

Brilliant chapter...

*Feels nostalgic for Oblivion MQ...*... ...

Loved it...And yer story...

"Mead,” Jerric said. He placed a five-Septim coin on the bar. “Surprise me.”

“Surprise you with mead?” said the barman, raising an eyebrow. “That’s a tall order."

A laugh as ever... ...

Nice one!!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

[mALX]

I had to quote these lines for putting your own Awesome spin on this quest - and the second one just for Jerric being Jerric. - Awesome Write !!!

Jerric thought for a moment. “So maybe they already found me, and they’re hoping I’ll lead them to Martin?”

Jerric felt like a child unable to follow the adults’ conversation.

“Baurus. I have a friend who might like to see this book.”

“The Breton or the Bosmer?”

Baurus gave him a direct look. “He cannot know about our friends in the north. And be aware that everything you tell him puts him in danger.”

[TheBrume]

Neither race would have native resistance to a beating.

I just found this to be hilarious. You made me spill my drink all over my keyboard, but it was worth it.

And I love the way you portrayed Baurus. I find his in game portrayal to be lacking, you've made him seem much more interesting with his semi-paranoia. All of his talk about trust and what-not makes for an interesting read. Is there a plot twist on the horizon? I can't wait to find out.

[Grits]

Folks, thank you for your patience and encouragement as this story moves forward at a crawl!

ghastley: Baurus is definitely struggling with the Blades’ failure. He still doesn’t know who sold them out to the MD, and he’s had a lot of alone time to dwell on it. I see him as pretty close to a Talos fanatic himself. Glad you liked the change with the book. There will be more.

King Coin: I totally forgot about Luther’s reaction to the smoking bones! I guess the fellas should probably go back with a garbage bag and a shovel, or Baurus is going to lose his security deposit. Yep, Luther was saying that Jerric looked like a heavy drinker, and was unlikely to be surprised by anyone’s mead. Jerric is most worried about Abiene, too.

Acadian: Poor Jerric is just not a super-spy! I’m sure Lildereth would have tracked an agent back to the Dagon shrine by now. Someone should have asked her!! Thank you for spotting the nit, I fixed it. And thank you very much for allowing the Valley of Horses and its guardian imps to grace Jerric’s world!

SubRosa: Abiene as a MD agent would be quite a twist. Perhaps the charismatic Eugal Belette will win her over to the cause while she’s lonely in Chorrol. Lildereth might get some hard looks after Baurus’ remarks, though. I have actually thought of a way to present a sane cultist’s perspective, but I think it will have to be a someday and not in the story exercise.

McBadgere: Glad you liked Luther’s sense of humor. He’s not going to kiss up for tips.

mALX: Thank you, mALX! This quest needed a few tweaks.

TheBrume: Sorry about your keyboard! I have done that myself. I’m glad you like spymaster Baurus.


Where we are: The Imperial City. Jerric and Baurus discovered the first book of Mankar Camoran’s Commentaries. Now Jerric is off the AU to visit Tar-Meena. The Valley of Horses with its trained imps is Acadian’s wonderful creation, and appears with permission.



Chapter 14: The Imperial City, Part Four

The pitcher of water he drank the night before woke Jerric before he wanted to rise, but when he needed to. He left Rilian sleeping. If the Imperial City was anything like Kvatch, kahve carts would line the main street out of a residential district. He would break his fast on the move as he joined the Elven Gardens’ early risers on their walk to work.

The breakfast carts offered an impressive variety. Jerric’s mild hangover made him skip the sweets in favor of a spicy sausage baked into a roll, a slice of egg and ham pie, three small servings of strong kahve downed like shots of whiskey, and a wedge of sharp cheddar followed by an apple to clean his teeth. He brushed the crumbs from his doublet as he passed through the gate into the palace district. Today he wore his best clothing and only one belt knife. And of course the daggers concealed at his back and in his boot, and one more in his daypack with the book. He thought he would be best received by a mage scholar if he presented himself unarmed.

Jerric stood head and shoulders above most of his fellow pedestrians. Only the Imperial Watch guards standing elevated above the crowd would meet his curious gaze. He let his eyes wander over the elaborate monuments and plantings as he passed through Green Emperor Way. The White Gold Tower cast a cold shadow. He looked at its angle to determine which gate led to the Arboretum.

He knew at the top of the steps that he had guessed correctly. Statues of the eight Aedric Divines ringed a colonnade at the center. In the middle stood a stone Talos, the ninth Divine. Jerric’s feet stalled when he reached the cross-street. He stood before Kynareth and Akatosh. These two were positioned facing Talos like the others, but their heads were turned toward each other. Talos loomed at Jerric’s back.

Here in the city’s calmest district, tension coiled in Jerric’s gut. He could hear quiet conversations all around him. These folk were at leisure, and dressed to indicate they did not engage in physical work. Satins and velvets predominated even at this hour of the morning. Most of the accents were clipped Nibenean and Altmer, or the speakers’ best imitation. Jerric looked between Akatosh and Kynareth, wondering.

Eventually he decided that the statues were not going to speak. In light of his recent congress with daedric princes, perhaps that was for the best. He continued around toward the gate and walkway to the Arcane University.

When Jerric got outside the city walls and onto the bridge, his heart lifted. Sunlight spilled over the mountains and flooded the Valley of Horses. Lake Rumare reflected all the colors of the sky. Grazing horses dotted the valley, guarded by roving imps on patrol. He shaded his eyes until he found Flash, Kip, and Banner. He couldn’t see Ulfe, but even the thought of her brought a smile. The sun, wind, and height delighted him. Still Kyne’s child, he thought. How foolish to look for her in a statue.

Another massive stone wall encircled the Arcane University. The gates stood open. Jerric stepped through and paused to take in the sights.

The Arch-Mage’s Tower rose directly in front of him in the center of a raised, half-circle entry court. A great wall stretched out on either side, restricting access to the University grounds. Arches and columns decorated the facing surface. Jerric wondered what wards might be concealed there. He also wondered if he would be able to read them if he tried. Armored and hooded Imperial Legion Battlemages guarded the metal gates into the University. He decided that was a question to explore after he met with Tar-Meena.

Sunken gardens curved away on either side of the stairs, surrounding the entry court. Robed figures stood or sat in conversation among the plantings. Even in winter this area caught the morning sun. Jerric guessed that he would have some time to spend here while he waited for Tar-Meena. He approached the Imperial Legion Battlemage standing guard at the base of the steps.

“Greetings, citizen,” the man said as Jerric reached him.

“Good morning,” said Jerric. “I’m here to see one of the University mages. I don’t have an appointment.”

“Are you a Guild member?” asked the Battlemage.

“Yeah, but I’m still an Associate.”

The guard gestured toward the tower. “Go through that center door into the lobby of the Arch-Mage’s Tower. They’ll help you at the reception desk.”

“Thanks.”

“Good day, magister.”

“Uh, one more thing. How would I find someone who’s staying here in temporary quarters?”

“Ask at the reception desk.”

“Oh, right. And where’s the hostel? I’d like to find someone there, too.”

The Battlemage executed another crisp gesture. “Associate quarters run under the wall. You’ll find the entries there and there. Best check at reception to find your friend. The Ayleids didn’t build that warren with convenience in mind. Or comfort.”

“Thanks.” Jerric decided he would try to coax Darnand into staying at an inn rather than joining him in the underground hostel.

As Jerric crossed the gardens he noticed red banners bearing the Imperial dragon fluttering from the tower. The Mages Guild emblem was worked in stone on the plaza and in metal on the ornate gates. His mind searched for the significance, but it eluded him.

The lobby was circular, dimly lit, and humming with quiet activity. Display cases stood against the walls. Benches filled the middle, some occupied by mages. One long desk stood near the far wall with a counter behind it. Mages in Apprentice robes sat or stood at work between them. Some of them were writing, some were passing sheets of parchment, and one Altmer bent over a crystal ball wearing a conical hat and a vacant expression. Red velvet rope and polished wooden stanchions indicated whom to approach first.

The Bosmer seated at the end of the desk smiled at him. “May I help you?”

“I’m Jerric. Guild Associate.”

“I’m Apprentice Gwylen,” twinkled the Bosmer, as if she was sharing some delicious secret.

Brown eyes and dimples, thought Jerric. Nice. “Pleased to meet you. I need to see one of the University mages, and I’d like to leave messages for two friends who are staying here. I’ve never been here before. What should I do?”

“If you’re on official Guild business, you can have Vanildil use the crystal ball. No? Well, let’s start with the University mage. Whom do you need to see?”

“Tar-Meena. I don’t have an appointment.”

“Step down to Perien, and he’ll send a message to the Mystic Archives for you. Then you come back to me if there’s a line, or just ask Perien to direct your other messages if there’s no one else around. Oh! And don’t talk to Vanildil while she’s wearing her Cone of Silence.” Gwylen rolled her eyes.

“Right,” said Jerric, grinning. “Thanks, Gwylen.”

Perien had overheard Gwylen’s remarks. He sat with a blank stone in front of him and a stylus in his hand. A glance along the line showed that the other Apprentices were similarly equipped. Except for Vanildil. She sat with a stack of parchment and a charcoal pencil.

“Ready,” said Perien.

“Uh,” said Jerric.

The Breton gave Jerric a wink. “Just tell me your message, I’ll write it down, and it comes out at the Mystic Archives just like that.” He tipped his head to indicate the hassled-looking woman at the counter behind him. She had several stone tablets in front of her, each with a sheet of parchment lying on it. Words appeared on the pages as if written by invisible hands. As Jerric watched she snatched one up, rolled and tied it with string, sealed it with a stamp, scrawled a word beside the seal, then tossed it into a basket.

“Uh,” Jerric said again. “How does that work?”

“I’m not in Applied Magic,” the Breton told him. “But I do know how to write a message. My station is linked to the Mystic Archives. What’ll it be?”

Jerric thought for a moment. He had to convince a scholar to leave her books and come talk to a stranger. What had Baurus said about her? She’s one of the egg heads over at the University. That seemed like a rude thing to call an Argonian. He filed it away for future use.

“All right,” said Jerric. “Here’s the message. Dear Tar-Meena. I have a very rare book. Our mutual friend said you would like to see it. Will you meet with me? From Jerric. Uh, the Associate of the Mages Guild. Wait! Don’t put the ‘Uh.’”

No words appeared on the tablet as Perien wrote with the stylus. Jerric guessed that only Apprentices with good handwriting got this post. “There,” said Perien. “Someone is rolling up your message at the archives even as we speak. Are you going to wait for an answer? Tar-Meena is very good about prompt replies.”

“Yeah, and I have some more business.” Jerric glanced over to find two people waiting to speak with Gwylen. “I guess I’ll get back in line.”

Dispatching a message to Lildereth took only moments. He was told where he might find Darnand. The Associates’ hostel did not have a message service. Jerric debated his next action. There was a good chance he would find Darnand still asleep after a late night of being a mage, or even just now retiring. Then again, Tar-Meena’s reply might be that she could see him immediately, and he would hate to miss it.

A shimmer of magicka caught his eye. He walked over to investigate. Misty tendrils rose from a raised disc on the floor. Runes and arcane symbols glowed on its surface. As his mind formed the words “teleportation pad,” an elaborately gowned Altmer materialized before his startled eyes. She glared at Jerric for a moment before sweeping out one of the side doors. The air shimmered again, and this time an Imperial stepped down. He took in Jerric’s expression and smiled.

“Greetings! I am Raminus Polus, Consul for the Mages Guild.”

Jerric choked back a laugh while he considered the man’s meaning. A member of the Council of Mages? Gods help him. “I’m Jerric,” he managed. “Pleased to meet you.”

To Jerric’s surprise, Raminus seized his hand and shook it with both of his. “Jerric of Kvatch and Anvil! I have received your recommendation from Carahil. What a pleasure to meet you. Welcome to the Arcane University!”

“Thank you, uh…”

“Raminus, please.”

Jerric bit the inside of his cheek. His struggle did not go unnoticed.

“Go ahead,” sighed Raminus. “I do not know which is worse, when people laugh or when they do not.” The Imperial’s face shone with good humor.

Jerric composed himself. “Is that a family name?”

Raminus shook his head. “Alas, no. There was much about rearing a child that my parents did not anticipate; my name was only the beginning. I cannot imagine what they were thinking. Ah, Tar-Meena! How nice to see you. May I present our Associate battlemage, Jerric? Jerric, Master-Wizard Tar-Meena is the Keeper of the Mystic Archives.”

Jerric turned to find a slender, dark-scaled Argonian gazing up at him. Her nondescript blue robe was similar to Raminus.’ She wore an arrangement of short veils hanging from rings over her pale head spines. Jerric folded his hands in imitation of her Altmer-style greeting. “Pleased to meet you.”

Tar-Meena smiled. Her short snout and low jaw made the expression look quite human. “You must be the one I got the message about. How can I help you?”

“I will leave you to it,” Raminus announced, giving both of their upper arms a squeeze. He strode out one of the doors, nodding and greeting as he went. Jerric appreciated the good will, but he wondered if it represented a disconnection from current events. A visit to any necromancer lair might be enlightening to a member of the Mages Guild Council.

Jerric turned his attention back to Tar-Meena. “I found a book,” he said.

[McBadgere]

Excellent!!!...

Loves me Jerric does I... ...

This made me laugh...

And don’t talk to Vanildil while she’s wearing her Cone of Silence.

Oh, I can just imagine it... ...

Another excellent chapter...

Nice one!!... ...

*Applauds heartily*...

[ghastley]

... a spicy sausage baked into a roll, a slice of egg and ham pie, three small servings of strong kahve downed like shots of whiskey, and a wedge of sharp cheddar followed by an apple to clean his teeth.

I like Jerric's version of skipping breakfast. Calories don't count if you're standing up?

[TheBrume]

Excellent. As usual.

Jerric turned his attention back to Tar-Meena. “I found a book,” he said.

I like this ending. It's simple. I mean, what else is there to say?
I look forward to the next installment.