McBadgere: I
had to think of some way to work in a spy reference and a pointy hat.

Thank you so much, McB!
ghastley: Jerric’s version of skipping breakfast is similar to the way carrying four blades is unarmed.

He wanted more, of course. I drew the line at a mobile stack of pancakes.
TheBrume: Thanks.

I always admire other peoples’ snappy endings, and it’s usually the last thing that comes to me before I post.
mALX: It’s so neat that you mentioned Harry’s arrival at Hogwarts. I had that same sense of wonder in mind. Thank you, mALX!
King Coin: You’re right, in the whole city full of people Jerric has the least interest in the leisure class, and that’s who was hanging around in the Arboretum. We might get a closer look at the hostel, if Darnand cooperates. Thank you, KC!
Tábrasa: Thank you! I see Raminus as the personable face of the Council. He sounds so happy in the game when he welcomes you, and he seems to have nothing to do but stand around the lobby and chat.
SubRosa: Yep, you spotted
Get Smart and Caranya.

I’m afraid if I tried to use a silly spy reference in the
same episode as Baurus, I might get a katana through the screen. Jerric is such a physical creature, so it was nice to touch on spiritual matters for a change, even if only lightly. Thank you, SubRosa!
Acadian: I was
so hungry when I wrote that breakfast! Thank you for your kind words about the University. Some of my favorite Buffy episodes have taken place there, and her experience has definitely shaped my vision of how it could be. The statues were a happy surprise, I had never tried to identify them in the game before. They fit Jerric’s situation perfectly.
Rihanae: Thank you, Rihanae! I’m glad you’re back.
Where we are: The lobby of the Arch-Mage’s Tower at the Arcane University. Tar-Meena has joined Jerric. He has informed her that he found a book. In other news (not to give away the ending of
this story, but I’m pretty sure he’s going to live

) I have just outlined Book 2.
Chapter 14: The Imperial City, Part Five“You found a book, you say,” said Tar-Meena.
Jerric handed it over.
“Ah, yesss,” she hissed, delight briefly overwhelming her precise diction. “
Commentaries on the Mysterium Xarxes, wonderful. You have a scholarly interest in daedric cults, then?”
“In Dagon’s cult, yeah. I’d say it’s more of a practical interest.”
“The Mythic Dawn,” said Tar-Meena. “What do you know of them?”
“Let’s assume nothing.”
Tar-Meena gestured for them to seat themselves. Her voice took on a lecturing tone. “The Mythic Dawn is one of the most secretive of all of the daedric cults. Not much is known about them. They worship Mehrunes Dagon according to the teachings of their leader, Mankar Camoran. No one knows how widespread the cult is, or where their shrine to Mehrunes Dagon is located. Mankar Camoran is a shadowy figure in his own right. He is the author of this book you found. The
Commentaries are contemporary with Tiber Septim, over four hundred years old. So he is unlikely to still be alive, although you never know. I’ve studied Mankar Camoran’s writings a bit myself, at least those that I could find. It is clear from the text that his
Commentaries come in four volumes, but I have only ever seen the first two books.”
“All right,” said Jerric. He needed to get to the point, but he didn’t want Tar-Meena to leave anything out. “I need to find the Mythic Dawn’s stronghold,” he blurted, already wincing at his clumsiness.
The Argonian’s nostrils flared with interest. As she leaned forward her voice took on a conspiratorial tone. “Find them, eh? I won’t poke my nose any further. Official business and all that. I’m used to working with the Blades. Don’t worry, say no more.”
Jerric hoped that Tar-Meena would take her own advice. She was practically winking over the shared secret. He decided that if someone as paranoid as Baurus could trust her, then so could he.
“In any case, finding them won’t be easy,” Tar-Meena continued. “I believe that Camoran’s writings contain hidden clues to the location of the Mythic Dawn’s secret shrine. Those who unlock the hidden path have proven themselves worthy to join the ranks of the Mythic Dawn cult. Finding the shrine is the first test. If you want to find them, you’ll need all four volumes of the
Commentaries.”
Excitement surged through Jerric. Finally, something he could do. “Where can I find the other three books?”
Tar-Meena leaned back, resting a thoughtful finger along her jaw. “The library has a copy of Book Two, as do several of my colleagues. As I said, I’ve never even seen the third and fourth volumes. You should try First Edition, over in the Market District. Phintias, the proprietor, caters to specialist collectors. He may have an idea of where to locate those books.”
Jerric did not intend to leave the Arcane University without their copy of Book Two, but he needed more time to think of a plan. “What’s the
Mysterium Xarxes?” he asked.
“The holy book of the Mythic Dawn,” said Tar-Meena. Jerric recognized the glint in her eye. He supposed that an Argonian scholar was much like a Breton scholar, despite the spines, scales, and tail. “It was supposedly written by Mehrunes Dagon himself. If it exists, it would be an artifact of great – and evil – power.”
Jerric dried his hands on his trousers. “Tar-Meena. I need your copy of the second book.”
Tar-Meena held her palm up in objection. “Perhaps I could give you temporary access to the Archives, but—”
“Wait,” Jerric interrupted. “Hear me out. You know Baurus, right? I mean, he must have been the one who sent you the message about me.”
“Yesss,” the Argonian said warily.
“Does he seem like a fellow who gives up or one who gets things done? You have to believe that he’ll find the other books or die trying. You
know what this is about, right?”
Tar-Meena slowly nodded.
“You can have the books when we’re done with them. All four volumes.” Jerric held his breath.
The Argonian’s eyes narrowed to slits. Jerric glanced away to give her a moment of private thought. He saw one of the doors open, and the light from outside silhouetted a slight figure accompanied by a giant dog. His eyes adjusted when the door closed behind them. Lildereth and Ulfe!
“You may have the library’s copy of Book Two,” said Tar-Meena, regaining his attention. Jerric’s heart leaped again. “Treat it gently, if you please. I will retrieve it now, if you will wait.”
Jerric jumped to his feet. “Thank you,” he gasped, seizing her clawed hands to squeeze them. “Thank you. I will. Treat it gently. And I’ll wait.” He realized that he was looming over the archivist so he stepped back, nearly tripping over a bench. “You won’t be sorry.” He grinned across at Lildereth. “I see the friend I was looking for. Maybe she’ll wait with me.”
Tar-Meena followed his glance. The corners of her narrow lips curled up in a smile. “Lildereth,” she called. “A timely meeting. I suppose even a wolf familiar needs the occasional walk outside.”
Ulfe leaped over the bench and offered Jerric a joyful greeting. He grabbed her head to prevent the “conjured familiar” from rooting enthusiastically in his crotch.
Tar-Meena took her leave. Lildereth stood in her place, looking completely at ease among the mages. She wore the green dress that hugged her top. Jerric recalled that under the full skirt, her bottom was also nicely round. Her hair was smoothly contained in some feminine arrangement. Jerric tugged at his trousers. He should probably have indulged himself at the brothel instead of just waiting for Rilian.
“A wolf?” he said. “You have got to be jesting.”
Lildereth gave him a crooked smile. “You should see the atronachs and dremora wandering around in there. Tar-Meena is just relieved that Ulfe can’t set fire to her books.”
Jerric bent down to scratch Ulfe’s chest and give her a kiss. She slapped him with far too much tongue for his liking. “Ugh! Ulfe! Honestly, how do you get away with these things, Lildereth? There’s no such thing as a yellow wolf.”
“Look around you,” said Lildereth. “Who else would know?”
Jerric straightened and looked her over again. “It’s good to see you, elf.”
“I got your message,” Lildereth told him. “And of course I was listening to what Tar-Meena said. I’ll wait with you. Let’s go into the public side of the garden.” She took his arm. “See, I’m making you look civilized. Now the mages won’t think that you’re an ogre thrall.”
“Wait, what if…” Jerric glanced worriedly back toward the door.
Lildereth gave him one of her angled brow looks. “You’re a Nord with a
tan, and I’m a wood elf. I think the Master-Wizard will deduce that we stepped outside.”
There were several empty stone benches in the garden. Lildereth ignored them in favor of a patch of angled sun under a tree. She tucked her skirt neatly while Jerric and Ulfe lolled and sprawled.
“So you’ve been in the archives?” Jerric asked her. “I guess that’s a different kind of hunting.”
“It is,” said Lildereth. “It’s the same thing you’ve heard me asking folk. Strange creatures, unusual monsters, where and when they’ve been encountered.” She must have seen Jerric’s questions bubbling up. She changed the subject. “What are you here
hunting for?”
Nice try, thought Jerric. I can do that, too. “You know I’m no hunter,” he said, looking up at the sky. “But I used to work with an archer who took me hunting sometimes. Mostly to carry the kills and warm the bedroll. Also to make the kahve, I suspect. Hers was dreadful.” Jerric glanced back over at Lildereth. She seemed thoughtful, and wary.
“Bosmer?” Lildereth asked.
“Dunmer. I’ve never, uh,
gone hunting with a wood elf before.”
Lildereth laughed. “Well I’ve never ridden a snow bear, and I don’t plan to. If I ever take you hunting, bring your own bedroll. Mine is plenty warm for me.”
“Yeah,” Jerric grinned. “Wait ’til we get to Bruma. If you decide you want to go that far.”
“We’ll see. I’ll still let you make the kahve, though.” Lildereth smoothed her skirt. “I’m also here seeking training from a Master Illusionist. Martina Floria. She’s asked me to supply her with ten Welkynd stones before she will consider me as a student.” She frowned down at her hands.
“What’s the problem, sprig? You could turn my trousers inside out while I’m wearing them, and I wouldn’t even notice. I’d think you could sneak in somewhere and pick up ten Welkynd stones.”
“Probably. I know several accessible Ayleid ruins where folk will have left stones up in the brackets recharging. But it’s usually conjurers or necromancers who need that kind of power, and they leave their undead and daedra thralls hanging around to guard their stash. Most of my spells don’t work on them.
That’s why I need master training. In the last few years a lot of those fetchers have taken their work underground, and moved into the ruins. They use life detection enchantments to keep track of their slaves while they’re home.” She gave her head a quick shake, as if dislodging a bug. “Of course I can do it. I just don’t like the risk.”
“I could watch your back. Stay low unless you called for me. Like in Howling Cave.”
Lildereth burst out laughing. “That was staying low? You blew up the alchemy lab!”
“Well,” said Jerric, “that was my scamp.”
Tar-Meena approached with a book in her hands. Jerric and Lildereth stood up to meet her. Ulfe stayed politely down, her tail thumping the grass.
“Here you go,” Tar-Meena said, handing the volume to Jerric. “It was so nice chatting with you. Be sure to let me know how your hunt for the Mythic Dawn turns out.” She exchanged nods with Lildereth before she turned away.
Jerric stared at Tar-Meena as she walked back toward the tower, her tail swaying with each graceful step. If that was her idea of discretion, Baurus was right to worry. At least he could be more honest with Lildereth now.
Lildereth’s face had turned to ivory. Her eyes gave her the look of a startled deer. “Jerric,” she said. “What the fetch?”
Sixteen hells, thought Jerric. She might not like this. “Uh, yeah. I’m going to, uh, go kill the Mythic Dawn. As soon as I can find them.”
Lildereth seized his arm. Her mouth opened and closed before sounds came out. “What?”
Don’t mention Martin, Jerric told himself. Or the Amulet of Kings. Or Baurus or the Blades. “Well, you’ve heard me talking to Darnand. I’m not just going to wait for them to open more Gates. I’m going to find their shrine, kill them all, and burn it to the ground.” Jerric realized that the last had emerged as a growl. He loosened his death grip on Book Two and tucked it into his daypack. “Want to go get some lunch?”
.
This post has been edited by Grits: Feb 17 2012, 02:01 AM