[X] My Assistant

[Grits]

Hi folks. This is my first attempt at fiction, and I welcome any criticism from the smallest nit to the most sweeping remarks on writing in general.

My version of Tamriel is a little bigger than the game’s, but I’m trying to fill in some of the blanks rather than re-imagine the place. I have taken liberties with the order of some events, but the main quest will stand. Mostly.

I feel especially weak in the lore and action sequence departments. If you should suggest a resource, I will certainly seek it out in the hope that my next effort will be less cringe-worthy!

So welcome to Jerric’s story, and thank you for joining us.

(Edit: Darnand started as Arnand, so comments may reference his old name.)

July 24, 2014: Hi again. Having learned much in the last couple of years I’m revisiting early chapters and giving them a very light edit. Regrettably there may be some inconsistencies in style as I work my way through. Sorry about that, and thank you very much for reading!

Jerric

The whole story is contained in this thread, but here are some links to the beginning of each chapter within this thread.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1 Working Vacation
Chapter 2 On the Gold Road
Chapter 3 Welcome to the Imperial City
Chapter 4 All’s Well in Aleswell
Chapter 5 Unloading the Amulet
Chapter 6 Going Home
Chapter 7 Kvatch
Chapter 8 Running
Chapter 9 Anvil
Chapter 10 Septims
Chapter 11 Holidays
Chapter 12 Return to Kvatch
Interlude:Abiene’s Letters
Chapter 13 Skingrad
Chapter 14 The Imperial City
Chapter 15 Chorrol
Interlude: Abiene
Chapter 16 Valley of Hopes
Chapter 17 Bruma


The Darnandex

Appendix One: The People of Jerric’s World
Appendix Two: Jerric’s World Terms
Appendix Three: Map of Game Quests Within Jerric’s Story
Appendix Four: Geography
Appendix Five: Timeline

Chapter 1: Working Vacation

Darnand Penoit had hoped to spend the afternoon studying with the delicious Abiene, but instead he was in the hills above Anvil searching for goldenrod plants with this hulking nitwit. They were working their way through the meadow side by side so as not to miss any. Darnand straightened to ease the kink in his back. He shot a glance at his partner.

Jerric stood thigh deep in the golden grass, eyes closed and face raised to the sun. He had pulled off his shirt and tucked it into the back of his breeches where it hung down like a ridiculous tail. His head looked like a shock of wheat.

Idiot, Darnand thought. Every night he has to heal his own sunburn. Jerric held a wicked looking blade in one hand and a white seed pod in the other.

“I feel just like a loaf of bread,” Jerric said to the sky.

“Felen is waiting for these pods,” Darnand snapped. What is this lump doing in the Mages Guild, anyway? he wondered. He did not grow those arms by turning pages.

Jerric laughed. “No he’s not. He’ll have his nose in a book by now and he won’t look up until long after dark.” The Nord tucked the pod into his bag and looked down for another goldenrod plant.

“You missed one,” Darnand said. He pointed to the plant at Jerric’s feet. “If you are not going to work, why did you bother to walk this far?”

“Because this is my assignment.” Jerric nudged the plant with his boot. “I never take all of the seed pods from any plant. Where do you think the plants come from? If you take all of the pods, no more goldenrod.”

Darnand could identify most of the alchemical plants in Cyrodiil from his books, but he had given little thought to how they grow.

Jerric stepped forward and stooped, cutting pods from another plant.

“What kind of mage would bring a dagger,” said Darnand. He snapped a pod from its dry stem to make his point.

“It’s a knife.” Jerric tossed it into the air and caught the blade between his thumb and finger. “My hand just likes to hold it. Try it,” he offered, extending the hilt toward Darnand.

“A real mage is his own weapon,” Darnand sniffed.

The two worked in silence for some time. Darnand was beginning to feel unpleasantly warm under his robe, and Jerric was positively streaming. The man’s sweat smelled unpleasantly familiar.

Sharing the Mages Guild common quarters with Jerric was a trial. He was noisy, his gigantic boots were always in the way, and he treated every day like Jester’s Day. Just last night while Darnand lay in bed reading Jerric had jumped under the blanket with him. He had let loose some wind then held Darnand’s head beneath the covers. The visiting mages had laughed like a pack of teenagers. One of them had wet herself.

Worst of all, Abiene seemed to like him.

“Feh, you smell like an animal,” Darnand muttered.

Jerric straightened and turned toward Darnand, a grin on his lips. Then he froze, eyes widening. “Boar,” he said.

“Oh really,” Darnand snapped, “Well I think you are the bore, Nord!”

Darnand faced his opponent, ready to deliver his come-uppance. Jerric whipped a ball of frost at him, faster than Darnand could think. It landed behind him with a hollow boom and an enraged squeal.

Comprehension dawned. Boar! Darnand sprinted toward Jerric, readying his fire spell. He whirled some distance behind the Nord in time to see the boar charge.

Jerric switched the knife to his right hand and hit the boar with frost from his left. When he lunged to the side the boar almost missed him with its yellow tusks. Jerric tackled the boar just as Darnand let go with his fire.

The Nord, the boar, and the ball of fire disappeared into the tall grass. Dust, squeals, and a death scream rose from the thrashing mayhem. A moment later all was still.

Darnand stood in horror at what he had done. By the Nine, I have killed him! I shall certainly be expelled from the Guild.

Jerric popped up from the grass, streaked with blood and crowing in triumph. He wiped his blade on his breeches.

Darnand searched him for signs of immolation. He appeared whole, apart from a steady stream pumping out of a wound in his thigh. “Erm ...” Darnand said, pointing.

Jerric held his skin together through the tear in his breeches and sent healing light swirling down his body. He looked at Darnand, grinning. “Did you hit me with a flare, soldier?”

“Please do not tell Carahil,” Darnand blurted. He took a deep breath to steady his nerves. “Why did the spell not burn you?”

“I can thank the stars for that.”

Atronach, thought Darnand. That explains a lot.

“New plan, Breton! Grab my bag, will you? I don’t want to get blood on Felen’s flowers.” Jerric lifted the boar carcass to his shoulders with a grunt, hardly staggering. “Good thing this was a small one.”

Jerric started down the hill toward Anvil. Against his better judgment, Darnand picked up the bag and followed.

___

“But how did you know she would have seed pods to sell us?” Darnand asked. His companion had sold the boar to a butcher, then bought enough white seed pods from a woman on the street to finish filling both their bags. Jerric had taken the first offer from both merchants, like some rube. Now they were entrenched at The Flowing Bowl with just enough coin to get them into trouble.

“She sells anything she can get for free,” Jerric said. “This time of year she has to have white seed pods, and cheap.”

“But she is a beggar. She does not have anything.”

“She has what she needs,” Jerric pointed out. “Don’t you think that if she was really planning to buy shoes, she would have them by now?”

“How do you know these things?” Darnand demanded. “You do not even reside in Anvil.”

“How do you not know them? Don’t you ever talk to people?”

Darnand took sip of beer and winced at the bitter taste. He was not sure how he ended up on the waterfront in the middle of the afternoon drinking with the person he liked least in all of the Mages Guild. The person he had almost incinerated only a few hours ago. He was beginning to worry about payback for that incident.

“Are you sure you are not angry about the ...” Darnand could not bring himself to say it.

“No harm done,” said Jerric. “I’m just glad you didn’t set the grass on fire. Besides, you would have healed me, right? Abiene said you’ve nearly reached Journeyman in Restoration.”

Darnand inhaled some spit. “Abiene talks about me?” he choked.

“Yeah,” Jerric replied with a twist of his lips. “She says, ‘Oh that Darnand, how does he get his hair that way, it looks sooooo pretty.’”

Darnand gritted his teeth and stared into his beer.

Jerric thumped his arm.

“Easy with the ham fist, I am not a snow bear,” Darnand complained.

“I’m a Nord, Darnand. Get over it. Anyway I’m not even that big. You should see my Pa, he has a neck like a minotaur.”

Darnand looked at Jerric for a long moment. “Did you have a point?”

“Look over there.” Jerric gestured at a slim, dark, Imperial woman. “What do you think of her?”

“She has a face like a weasel. I think you have a good chance with her.”

“No, for you! She’s been looking over here a lot.”

Darnand was amazed. “Are you procuring women for me, now?”

Jerric shrugged. “You seem tense.”

The door opened and closed with inn traffic.

“Drink up,” Jerric said. “The sun’s going down. We have to hurry and get loaded so we can sober up before dinner.”

___

Darnand carefully ran his knife up the center of the aloe vera leaf. He opened the skin to expose its juicy pulp then slid his knife down the inside at an angle, folding the skin back as he went. After he repeated the cut on the other side, he viewed the flattened leaf with satisfaction.

A groan and thump broke his concentration. Darnand glanced across the room where Jerric sat at another work table. Bloody scraps of cloth and empty potion bottles littered the surface. The Nord’s forehead was on the table. His fingers clenched in his hair.

Darnand wiped his knife, put it down on its cloth, and picked up the wooden spatula. He slowly ran the spatula’s blade down the butterflied leaf, collecting the pulp without picking up any of the fibers that clung to the inside of the skin. He plopped his harvest into a clay storage jar, then carefully repeated the process.

“Darnand,” Jerric said.

Darnand scraped another spatula load of pulp from the leaf. He placed it in the jar.

“Darnand,” Jerric said again.

Darnand wiped the spatula and placed it on its cloth. He folded the empty leaf skin and set it aside. “I am busy.”

“It’s important.”

Darnand picked up another leaf and placed it in the ready position in front of him. He picked up the knife. “So is this.”

The knife slid down the plump leaf in a perfect line. Darnand braced himself for Jerric’s reply. Something about him squeezing his own juice, Darnand guessed.

Jerric picked up his chair and carried over to Darnand’s table. He put it down and took a seat across from Darnand. “I’m running out of time,” he said.

“I need to finish this,” replied Darnand without looking over. He makes more noise than a Billy on a wooden bridge. He scraped the leaf.

“I’ll do it for you later,” said Jerric. “I need your help.”

“You will pull up too many fibers. ‘Quick and dirty’ is not an alchemist’s motto.” He wiped his spatula and placed it on its cloth.

“Darnand,” Jerric said.

A note in his voice made Darnand look at him. Jerric’s raised face wore a solemn expression. Candlelight made his eyes look like honey. No doubt he uses that technique to lure women.

“No more tricks,” said Jerric. “I’m running out of time. I really need help.”

Darnand folded the leaf skin and placed it aside. He hooked a chair leg with his foot and sat down.

“Your healing spell?” he surmised.

“I’m just not getting it. I have the magicka but I can’t get it all into the spell. I know how it’s supposed to work. I just can’t do it.”

Darnand considered. “When you healed where the boar slashed you, you sent your spell over your whole body. Did you mean to do that?”

Jerric looked blank.

Darnand tried to explain it another way. “Do you focus your spell on a specific injury, or do you just cast the spell?”

“I just cast the spell, and then I feel better.”

“You are wasting your magicka,” Darnand said. “You will never get your spell stronger until you learn to focus. You know how to heal a wound on another person, do you not?”

“Yeah, but I’m not very good at it.”

“Think about how it feels when you cast that spell. The pain you feel from the other person that tells you where to send your magicka. It is the same thing.”

Jerric looked blank again, and miserable. His fingers twisted on the edge of the table.

Darnand was surprised. His patience with Jerric was growing, not racing away as it usually did. “Do you feel the pain from the other person, or do you just cast your spell over them?” he asked.

“I feel it, but I don’t know how to use it,” said Jerric. “Please don’t give up on me. I know I can learn this.”

Darnand decided to change his plans for the evening. “I shall render my assistance. First, show me how you heal yourself.”

Jerric picked up Darnand’s knife.

“Gaaaah!” cried Darnand, throwing out his hands. He snatched his knife back, wiped it, and placed it precisely on its cloth. “Over there,” he said, pointing at Jerric’s table. “And go get a hammer so you will bleed less. You were making a mess.”

___

Darnand entered the common living quarters and halted in surprise. A man stood at the end of the room in a steel breastplate and mail with a long sword on one hip and a short blade on the other. He was lifting a steel shield out of the open cabinet. A full pack rested at his feet. Jerric.

Darnand approached. He felt oddly distressed. “What is this?”

“My uniform,” Jerric replied with a smile. “Did you think I was a professional student? I’m a caravan guard. See?” He pointed at his chest where a shape was embossed onto the metal. “Running Wolf Postal and Freight. That’s my family’s business.” Jerric pulled on his gauntlets. “My break is over. I have to get back to work.”

“An armored guard. But what kind of a...” Darnand began. He looked at Jerric, and for the first time his own expression matched the Nord’s.

“Battlemage,” they finished with a grin.

.

This post has been edited by Grits: Jul 24 2014, 07:35 PM

[Grits]

mALX: Thank you, mALX! No matter how close they get, Jerric is still an unsavory roommate. After all, no one farts on your head quite like a brother.

ghastley: Thank you, ghastley, you brought out what I was hoping to show about each of them caring for the others and letting themselves be cared about in return. I expect that Ulfe thinks one of them smells a lot more interesting than the rest!

Olen: Thank you Olen, you have drawn out the things here that are so important to me, and it means a lot to know that they came through. I’m always at risk of over-explaining, and nervous that I cut out the wrong parts.

Acadian: Thank you, Acadian! I loved putting Jerric at that party table. He’s not a very good loner. It was fun to show some of who he used to be. There’s a little more of that in this section.

King Coin: Thank you for appreciating Darnand’s warning! That was such a Darnand moment, and those are rare. Jerric doesn’t see himself as a mystic either – he’s still shaking his head over that one.

McBadgere: Thank you, McB! If Jerric ends up at the Bards College, we’ll know what he’s planning.

SubRosa: You highlighted what I was hoping to show with the mystic discussion, that Jerric has taken to the magic that comes easily and made little or no progress in the areas that do not. He has years of practice, but very little study. Thank you, SubRosa!


Where we are: The crew has been in the Imperial City. Jerric met with Baurus and made a plan to search Cyrodiil’s book stores for the remaining two books of Mankar Camoran’s Commentaries of the Mysterium Xarxes. Darnand looked at the first two volumes and already cracked the code. Darnand and Lildereth did some enchanting at the Arcane University. Jerric got his belongings back from the Imperial Prison. Lildereth accepted the task from Martina Floria to bring her ten Welkynd stones in trade for advanced Illusion training. Darnand has been exchanging his life energy for access to an ancient library. Jerric has been crawling through sewers for the Fighters Guild to refill the coin purse. The animals have been relaxing in Acadian’s wonderful Valley of Horses. I’ll let Jerric take it from here.



Chapter 15: Chorrol, Part One


Jerric leaned against Aelwin’s fence watching the sun drop in the sky. Nerussa’s tavern and the Weye market square offered too many temptations, and so he had spent much of the day loitering with the horses in Aelwin’s stable yard. The old man had been cheerful company, but now he was inside his cottage having an afternoon rest. The quiet gave Jerric too much opportunity for thought.

Darnand and Lildereth had left before dawn on the previous day bound for some Ayleid hole that Lildereth had scouted. They were to collect Welkynd stones in the ruin while Jerric fulfilled the last day of his Fighters Guild contract. They would meet in Weye. Jerric had gathered up the animals this morning according to the plan. Now all he had to do was wait and wonder.

Foot traffic was sparse enough that Jerric could watch folk as they came into view between the low buildings. He pictured Darnand’s robed figure walking briskly with head down, then bent under the weight of an overloaded pack, and even limping with the aid of his staff. None of these variations answered his silent summons. He tried to imagine Lildereth, but he had no idea how her small form would look approaching. The elf had a habit of popping out of thin air right underfoot.

If they’re not here by the time Magnus touches the mountains, I’ll set up our camp, Jerric decided. They’ll be tired, and we can still get ahead of the traffic in the morning.

Fetch it, he thought a moment later. I’m going to go see what’s happening right now.

By the time he got his greaves buckled, Darnand and Lildereth were visible on the road. Jerric leaned against the fence again, grinning when he saw that they were whole and unbloodied.

“Three stones,” Lildereth said as they approached. He caught a glimpse of nerves before her face lit up at Ulfe’s joyful greeting.

Darnand stopped in front of Jerric, his expression tense and solemn.

Jerric sniffed for hints of mort flesh. “Anything rotting in your pack that I should know about?”

“We put them to rest,” said Lildereth. Her eyes slid to Darnand and then away. “Zombies. It was close. I misread the life signs. There were more than I expected.”

“She was magnificent under attack,” Darnand told him. “She stood her ground and kept shooting. The last one fell at her very feet.”

“Consumed by Darnand’s fire,” Lildereth added, a gleam in her eyes.

Comprehension killed Jerric’s next question. “And then you two humped each other silly.”

Darnand rubbed a hand over his face.

Lildereth shrugged one shoulder. “Sometimes it happens.”

“Not when I’m there. Dammit! What about Howling Cave? That was tense enough, and no humping after. And Fort Strand, that’s as close as it gets. I know I could have used some relief. What the hells, Darnand?”

The Breton looked aghast. Lildereth snorted.

Jerric shook his head. “I’m jesting,” he told Darnand. “Gods’ bones, you could crack an ironnut right now, I’d wager. I can’t see how you trust me with your life, but not the sanctity of your orifices.” He caught Lildereth’s look. “Yeah, I know what that means. I read it in a book.”

Lildereth moved to where Jerric had piled their gear and began shifting things between the packs. Darnand looked away from her.

Jerric watched for a moment. He tried not to let disappointment color his tone. “You’re leaving us, I take it?”

“I’m taking these stones back to Martina. There’s no sense carrying them around. I’ll catch up to you on the road, but not for a couple of days at least. Perhaps in Chorrol.”

Ulfe pressed her jaws against Jerric’s belly, grinning up at him. Jerric obliged with a vigorous throat scratch. “Sure, I’ll miss you too, Ulfe.”

“You’re hauling some of my gear for me,” Lildereth said without looking up. “There’s no need to squeeze out a tear just yet.”

“You’ll be moving fast, then?” Jerric asked. “Or you want to start light because you’ll have pelts to carry?”

Lildereth shot him a cool glance as she shouldered her pack. Jerric knew that was all the explanation he would get from her.

“There’s talk of a Gate along the Black Road,” Darnand announced, apparently to his feet.

Lildereth was suddenly in front of Jerric, squeezing one of his hands in hers. She looked up with an expression that was a little bit tender, a touch hopeful, but mostly composed of concern and regret. Then she turned toward the bridge without speaking. Ulfe sneezed on Jerric’s hand before she romped away after the elf.

“Yeah,” Jerric called after them. “You, too. And be careful with my dog!”

By the time Jerric looked over at Darnand, the Breton had finished his careful study of the grass.

“Well?” said Jerric.

It took a moment for Darnand to find his voice again. “Gods,” he finally managed.

Jerric shook his head and went to get the horses.

Tacking up was accomplished with minimal talk. Aelwin appeared with some stale-smelling sandwiches. Jerric’s thanks reflected his affection for the giver more than appreciation of the gift. In a short time they were mounted and proceeding up a narrow lane toward the Red Ring Road.

“How was the job?” Darnand asked before Jerric could start another conversation.

“It was Imga balls, just like the first two days. Nothing to eat, nothing to look at, and nothing to fight that I couldn’t just kick to death. The Imperial City Commission of Water and Sewers does not employ attractive dreck-scrapers, and don’t get me started on the smell.” Jerric prepared to launch his questions.

“Good morning, ladies,” Darnand called out, an act so bizarre it made Jerric stare at him. They made room for the approaching group of pedestrians to safely pass.

“It’s well past mid-day,” Jerric started to tell him, but Darnand and Banner had dropped back behind Flash. They maintained that position all the way past Fort Nikel until Jerric signaled a stop for the night.

They moved quickly to set up camp and settle the horses before sundown. Dry sandwiches were eaten fireside without comment. By now the silence had grown too thick between them, and Jerric was not inclined to break it. He guessed that Darnand’s no doubt frantically surrendered virginity might be causing him anxiety, but tonight Jerric was too close to his own troubles to distract himself with Darnand’s.

“It is your family that disquiets you,” Darnand said without preamble. “You have been twisting that ring around on your finger all evening.”

Jerric felt instantly relieved. Thoughts came in a rush, now that he did not fear to admit them. “I know they’re kept alive in my memory, but that’s no comfort. My niece Fjirsten, she was just as bright as a new drake and twice as promising. I’m the only one left who remembers the day she was born. Everything she was, everything she could have become is entrusted to this leaky vessel.” He thumped his forehead with a fist. “Little things are already fading. How will I know what I’ve forgotten when it’s gone? I was the least of them, Darnand. I never could get the words out of my head onto a page, and I didn’t let it bother me. Now I curse myself for this weakness.”

“Tell me their stories, and I will write them.” Darnand’s face was solemn in the firelight.

Jerric didn’t dare to hope. “To what purpose? And you don’t have time for that. You’re always working, even when you should just collapse.”

“That is an accurate statement. However, I shall make some time to ease your mind. There need not be a purpose, or an end. Say the words, and I will write them. I want to know your niece Fjirsten as if she was my own. We begin tonight.”

Jerric watched Darnand assemble his materials. He couldn’t have spoken at that moment if he tried. By the time Darnand was ready, he had wiped his face and taken a swallow of water.

“On the morning of Sun’s Height the fourth in the year 425, a child of Kyne was born in the West Weald.” Jerric could hear that his voice was low and strong, like his fa’s. He stood aside in his mind and let the words come. “Fjirsten Kolrsdaughter, born of Svanja, my sister. She was Svanja’s first, and she took her time coming. I had heard my sister swear, but never before like she did all that night. We knew her curses didn’t work when she grew big with her second child, but that’s another story. When my turn came to hold the baby, I took her outside to let her taste the wind. Even on the Kvatch plateau…”

Jerric’s voice continued into the night, and Darnand’s quill captured his memories. The images called up before Jerric’s eyes were more real than the fire in front of him. But tonight they brought no sorrow.

[King Coin]

Jerric worrying over Darnand and Lildereth in the beginning was just what I’d expect from him. Nothing worse than waiting. Then he finds out Darnand and Lildereth were having fun without him. Poor Jerric’s maybe a smidge jealous now?

Darnand shows he’s a true friend at the fireside. Maybe Jerric will begin to rest easier.

[Acadian]

Your opening paragraph efficiently and beautifully pulled us right into the scene and Jerric's head. I loved his perfect vision of an approaching Darnand and that the best he could come up with for Lildereth was a ‘poof – there she is’ image.

“Three stones,” Lildereth said as they approached. He caught a glimpse of nerves before her face lit up at Ulfe’s joyful greeting.’
Beautifully put and, after all, three stones beats a pair.

Dungeon humping!

‘How will I know what I’ve forgotten when it’s gone?’
Wow! Sometimes Jerric stuns me with his simple and clear perceptions. It was then Darnand’s turn to show the mettle of his friendship for the Nord as he selflessly helped Jerric bring his memories to life.

‘The images called up before Jerric’s eyes were more real than the fire in front of him. But tonight they brought no sorrow.’
Wow again! What a large step Jerric took this night by the fire. I'm so proud of him - and Darnand.

As ever, Jerric, Darnand, Lildereth and Ulfe were totally true to who they are - the wonderful characters we have grown to love. You paint them perfectly with every action they take and every word they speak (or bark). This was a such a beautiful episode and pure joy to read!

[McBadgere]

Amazing stuff...

Although...Lildreth and Darnand? ...Really?...Methinks there's another story there... ...

But it was very cool to see Jerric's attempt to appear not jealous...Having been in similar situations many years ago (the girl/jealousy stuff, not the dungeon crawling passion btw ), I know how damned difficult it would be for him... ...

Aaamywho...

Always love Ulfe, sweet puppy... ...

And the reunion and parting were as cool and very demonstrative of their affection for each other...Bless them... ...

The whole last section with Jerric getting emotional about losing the memories, and Darnand offering to write them down was just brilliant...Absolutely loved it...

Don't leave us so long without, next time eh?... ...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds massively heartily*...

[SubRosa]

So, stones, humping, and sanctified orifices. Sounds like an ordinary day for the Terrible Trio. Though Darnand and Lildreth is a pairing I had not seem coming. Actually, Lildreth and anyone is not a pairing I ever saw coming. I suppose we will have to wait and see if it was just excess adrenaline, or if there is actually something there.

It was Imga balls
Ewww. Then again, killing crabs and rats in the sewers is pretty disgusting work.

Plus some quality man on man time at the fireside. Without orifices.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Apr 20 2012, 04:36 PM

[ghastley]

Only three Welkynd stones from the whole dungeon? I don't remember any of them being that mean, unless I'd forgotten going there before! No wonder they needed another reward.

I can just imagine Darnand explaining to Jerric that he thought he was only going to have a quickie with Lildereth to celebrate their victory, but she told him he needed more practice.

[Olen]

Wow, the depth of your characters always manages to surprise me. They have so much to them and so many subtle traits which make them real.

Lildreth is an interesting one. I'm not entirely surprised by her pairing with Darnard but I don't think it's anything. I agree with SubRosa that she doesn't seem like the type to be pairing, but in many ways she isn't. Similar to the time with Jerric, the mood takes her and she does, but it doesn't mean anything. Makes me wonder why though, is there some reason or is that just how she is? There's a lot to her we haven't seen. Also how clingy will Darnard become, and how will it change him.

Yup there's certainly a lot going on with your characters, and I'm sure Chorrol won't simplify things.

[mALX]

I absolutely loved this whole paragraph. It is so inconsistant for Jerric to wait while Darnand dungeon dives, so instantly I was worried for Darnand without him. But Jerric's visions and musings had me rolling even with the worry.

Foot traffic was sparse enough that Jerric could watch folk as they came into view between the low buildings. He pictured Darnand’s robed figure walking briskly with head down, then bent under the weight of an overloaded pack, and even limping with the aid of his staff. None of these variations answered his silent summons. He tried to imagine Lildereth, but he had no idea how her small form would look approaching. The elf had a habit of popping out of thin air right underfoot.

Darnand finally explored strange new worlds, sought out new life...boldly went where no Jerric has gone before! WOOOOOOT !!!

Loved the ending, where Jerric is logging his memories of Fjirsten Kolrsdaughter. Was she just eight when she died? Very touching ending to an Awesome Chapter!! Great Write!

[Grits]

Folks, there was another delay. I thank you for your patience.

King Coin: Thank you, KC! The fireside scene showed my favorite side of Darnand. Thank you for drawing attention to it, and for appreciating him!

Acadian: I thought of you with a smile when I wrote about Lildereth’s under the radar approaches. Three stones! That one skipped right by me. Thank you for noting Jerric’s giant step with Darnand’s quiet assistance. I appreciate your encouraging words so much.

McBadgere: I’m glad that Jerric’s awkward attempt to dispel the awkwardness rang true. That part was painful to write! The fireside scene is the one I was squeaking delightedly about when Julianos found Darnand’s book in KotNNK. I’m still grinning like a fool over that!! Thank you, McB!

SubRosa: Jerric’s full “Imga balls” remark did not make the edit, so I’m glad it was still crude enough to express his message. Lildereth and Darnand is a pairing that they didn’t see coming! They’re not ready to pick out china just yet. Thank you, SubRosa!

ghastley: “Well, we would have been back hours ago, but she’s a perfectionist.” Poor Darnand missed out on Juliana’s tender care, but that’s probably for the best since Gweden holds bad memories for him. That little Ayleid hole in the ground with only three stones was a Grits invention. Thank you, ghastley!

Olen: Your comments are so very encouraging! The things that you are wondering about Lildereth are the same questions that the fellows have about her. Whew! One of the many things I admire about your writing is your restraint in the information that you offer about characters. Trying not to info-dump makes me wonder if I’m getting Lildereth’s character across, especially when she does things that are surprising. Thank you so much!

mALX: Yes, Fjirsten was eight when she died at Kvatch, the same age as Carmia’s daughter Lavina (the little girl from Gnoll’s Meeting Camp). Good grief you’re right, Darnand managed to hook up with one of the few people who could not compare him to Jerric! Oh, except for that time they all went swimming in Aravi’s Oblivion video thread. About that, Darnand would like to point out that the water was very cold and he does not have frost resistance. Thank you, mALX!


Where we are: On the Black Road to Chorrol. Lildereth took off with Ulfe, saying she would find them on the road. Jerric and Darnand managed to avoid talking about Darnand and Lildereth. Darnand took on the project of writing down Jerric’s memories.



Chapter 15: Chorrol, Part Two


Jerric and Darnand turned onto Troll Rock Lane at the same easy pace they had kept up since lunch. The weather had been fine and traffic light for days along the Black Road. Now they would reach the Odiils’ farm with daylight to spare. Jerric planned for them to spend the night with the Odiils, then head on to Weynon Priory in the morning. They should reach Chorrol tomorrow night. There was no need to push the horses.

“It’ll be a cold wash outdoors again, I’m afraid,” Jerric said, “but we can count on a hot meal. These Imperials will feed us like kings. Plenty of deer come to eat their crops. They have venison on the table most nights, I’d wager. No ale or wine, though. Odiil does his drinking in town. Never did ask why.”

“I will not miss setting up camp tonight,” said Darnand. “Or standing watch. I suppose we have that Oblivion Gate to thank for the empty road. However, I maintain that what ruffians remain will be all the more desperate as a result of their recent shortage.”

“Yeah. And even with the Gate closed, there could still be daedra about. The time you let down your guard is when enemies attack. We’ll sleep hard behind solid walls tonight, though we’ll be unnecessarily sober. These boys are good company, but what I wouldn’t give for a hot bath, a pitcher of mead, and a woman who can breathe under water.” Jerric slapped his thigh, earning an ear flick from Kip. “Hey! The Jewel of the Rumare! I can’t believe I didn’t think of that before!”

Darnand did not reply on that subject. “Though I am relieved that the Oblivion Gate closed on its own before we arrived, I am unsettled by the implications. Had we reached it only hours earlier, you would certainly have entered and been trapped in the Deadlands. To what purpose was it opened?”

“I don’t know, Darnand.”

His friend glanced over with the hint of a smile. “Of course you do not. I apologize for voicing the question yet again. I cannot purge this mystery from my mind.”

Darnand was right; Jerric had missed being stranded in the Deadlands by some unknown grace or sheer luck. Letting his thoughts drift backward would not help him. Still, his friend kept picking at the puzzle like a nearly healed knuckle scab. Jerric scratched his head to help himself think.

“Well, maybe they were moving from one place to another on this side. I went through a Gate in a high meadow west of here, when I was wandering, and there was a second Gate open in the Deadlands. I could see it as soon as I got there. No way could it have led back to County Chorrol, I would have seen it in the meadow. Maybe it didn’t even go to Cyrodiil. So if they wanted to move from, say, here to Black Marsh, a short trip through the Deadlands would be the quickest way.”

Darnand was staring at him.

Jerric felt a little embarrassed. “That’s probably not what they did. Forget I said it. Never mind.”

“On the contrary, your idea is plausible. Creating a sigil stone requires many souls and the effort of Mehrunes Dagon himself. However if my sources are correct, the Gates can be opened with a fairly simple ritual once the sigil stone is acquired.” He held up his palm in a warding gesture. “You need not admonish me. I have no desire to test that theory.”

“Yeah,” said Jerric. “And maybe they closed the Gate when their work was done. Whatever it was. To save the stone.”

Troll Rock Lane had been in very light use the last time Jerric had travelled it, but now it seemed deserted. The blanket of decaying leaves on the road muffled the horses’ footsteps. When the Odiils’ cottage came into view, Jerric signaled a halt.

“What is it?” Darnand sounded more curious than alarmed.

“I don’t know. Let’s just watch for a moment.” He pulled off a gauntlet and slipped on his life detection ring. A swirl of magicka betrayed Darnand’s hasty spell. A quiet cast required more effort, and they were in full view already. Jerric began to voice his concerns.

“No smoke from the chimney. Storm litter in the front garden. Someone should have picked up those branches.” Another swirl told Jerric that Darnand was extending the range of his spell. “I can see corn stalks in the upper field. They should have winter crops in by now. Onions. Cabbages. Maybe some leeks. Not corn.” Now he was just stalling. “The door is boarded up. They’re not here, Darnand.”

His friend gave him a look. “There are no life signs.”

Jerric nodded. “Let’s go see.”

The barn door was boarded over as well. Summer crops had rotted in the fields. After he made his investigations, Jerric joined Darnand and the horses where they waited by the well.

“I can’t tell what happened,” said Jerric. His gut felt sick with worry. “Goblins, daedra, or maybe they just moved after a break-in. You know, some fetchers out marauding.”

“If they were attacked by daedra, I would expect to see signs of a fire.”

“Yeah,” said Jerric. “You’re right. Plus they’ve been gone since not long after I was here. Never even got their harvest in. That Gate opened just a week ago.” He reached one arm under Flash’s neck and the other under Kip’s for comfort. “When I was here before, I helped them kill some goblins. If the goblins’ tribe came around looking… Well, they offered me their best sword, and I took it. Chillrend. Couldn’t even hang onto it, I told you how I lost it in the lava. Dammit!” He looked up at the sky.

“Shall I say it? I do not believe that the words will help.”

“No, but thanks. Look, we should fill up our waterskins if the well hasn’t been fouled. Camp out at the Black Road. We won’t make the priory by dark, and I’d rather not sleep here. The elf might be looking for us.”

“I have replenished our water supply. We still have travel rations. I suggest we break camp early in the morning and plan to spend additional time at the priory. Perhaps the monks will have news of the Odiils. We should take the opportunity to refresh ourselves there, so that in Chorrol we might present a less travel-worn appearance.”

Jerric smiled to himself. “Did you just call me scruffy?”

“Unkempt,” said Darnand. “Bedraggled.”

Jerric swung up into his saddle. “I’ll take the first watch.”

They made camp near the road. After they saw to the horses, Jerric set up the tent while Darnand gathered firewood. The sky looked like it would stay clear, but the Breton seemed to rest easier under shelter. It made no difference to Jerric. He slept with his head by the door so he could see the stars.

Jerric shook his head no when Darnand started to assemble his writing materials. Tonight it would be unwise to think about his family. He felt as if he was on unsteady footing, trying to avoid too many things while reaching for something he couldn’t see. This close to Chorrol even thoughts of Abiene brought tension. Darnand retrieved a book and withdrew to the tent. It was his habit to read in the dark with his nighteye spell. Only one book, thought Jerric. He must really be tired.

Jerric relieved himself into the bushes and prepared to stand his watch. The low fire should keep animals away, but it surrounded the camp with a wall of darkness. He moved into the shelter of a tree and slipped on his life detection ring.

The vibrant glows of the horses leaped into his mind, then the low shape of Darnand, already sleeping. Practice helped him dim their lights so that they wouldn’t blind him. In a few moments he could see small life forms through the misty shapes of the horses. He kept himself alert by identifying them as they moved about their foreign business. As the hours passed, he counted foxes, bats, deer, night birds, and even treerats asleep in their nests above him.

One life sign caught his immediate and full attention as it moved into the range of his life detection ring. A Bosmer or small human, making no sound over the night’s noises. It gave the signal for a peaceful approach, and Jerric returned it. He slipped off his ring and moved to meet Lildereth as she entered the camp. Her packs and bow went softly to the ground. She turned to face him.

“Where’s Ulfe?” Jerric asked.

“Rolling in a deer carcass. I’m sure we’ll smell her before we see her.” Lildereth stepped into the light.

She looked as clean and composed as she ever did, apart from the tears gathering on her lashes. Jerric’s stomach dropped. Weeping females were high on his list of things to avoid. He knew that a hard word would spark Lildereth’s temper, but if she wanted a fight she would already have provoked one. His compassion was likely to let loose the flood. She could have had her cry somewhere alone in the dark. Yet here she was.

Jerric took a deep breath.

“So a Nord and an Altmer are pissing out the back of a mead tent.”

Lildereth blinked several times, rapidly. Jerric pretended not to notice.

“The Altmer, perhaps curious about Nords, happens to see a tattoo on his…” Jerric grabbed his crotch.

“Member,” Lildereth suggested.

“Yeah. It’s a bunch of letters that spell out Welinome. Now that’s a word that the Altmer knows very well. In fact, he has the same tattoo. Of course at that point it looks like there could be more to the Nord’s. The Altmer just has to know. ‘Good son of Skyrim,’ he says to the Nord, ‘My dear wife, light of my soul, is named Welinome. Centuries ago I showed her my devotion with this tattoo. Now I cannot help but notice her name upon your…’”

Lildereth rolled her eyes.

“‘Member,’” Jerric continued. “‘My friend, is it possible that your wife is named Welinome, too?’

“‘No, Goldenrod,’ says the Nord. ‘Mine says Welcome to Solstheim, now go the fetch home.’”

Lildereth snorted. “When I heard this story, the fellow was a Redguard.”

“A Redguard married to a woman named Welinome? That seems unlikely.”

Ulfe crashed in amongst them, wild and reeking from her romp with the dead deer. It took a spell from the elf and a knee from Jerric to keep her out of the fire. Darnand poked a tousled head out of the tent and blinked owlishly while they were struggling. “The girls are back,” said Jerric. “Hide.”

Once they got the hound settled, Jerric began to wonder if Lildereth would crawl in with Darnand. Then he wondered if they would be noisy, or worse, if they would try to be quiet. She didn’t make a move toward the tent. Jerric felt relieved until he realized that he was staring.

“I’ll finish your watch,” Lildereth told him. “I won’t sleep for hours anyway. I chewed too many fennel seeds trying to stay awake on the way here.”

Jerric wasted no time getting out of his clothes and into his bedroll. He looked up at her before he pulled the furs over his head. “Are you ever going to tell me?”

“Some day.” She had seated herself with her back to the fire. “Not tonight.”

“Whatever it is, maybe you don’t have to go through it alone.”

Lildereth had her face turned to the side, but he could still see her crooked smile. “I’m not,” she said.




.

This post has been edited by Grits: May 11 2012, 11:08 AM

[SubRosa]

though we’ll be unnecessarily sober
Talk about sacrifices!

The vanishing Oblivion Gate is an intriguing mystery. I wonder if it means that someone from the Mythic Dawn is moving from Chorrol to someplace else?

Now a second mystery concerning the Odill farm? Hmm, what on Nirn is going on in County Chorrol?

Weeping females were high on his list of things to avoid.
A trait I believe all men share, for good reason.

Yet a third mystery, with the near weepy Lildreth. You certainly know how to keep us guessing! Through it all though, you have shown us what a tightly-knit trio Jerric, Darnit, and Lildreth have become.

[King Coin]

What? The gate closed on its own? I’ve never heard of such a thing. And Jerric getting stranded there… Ugh. I don’t want to imagine what that would be like. A rare moment of brilliance from Jerric I see.

Odiils are gone? So much for a good bed then.

Lildereth!!

As SubRosa said, more mystery. I wonder what it is? I’m happy that they are staying together though. They’ve all really grown close.

[Acadian]

The Oblivion Gate closing before they arrived means one of two things: Either someone else closed it and left the area or it somehow closed on its own. Although Jerric’s theory is intriguing, I would tend to think the former unless I had actually seen it close with no sigil stone-bearing adventurer emerging. I’m quite sure I’m mistaken but, nevertheless, I have visions of Lildereth closing that gate; I have no doubt she is capable of doing so then melting right back into the forest. I wonder if her pack is buzzing?

‘The blanket of decaying leaves on the road muffled the horses’ footsteps.’
This was just a perfect touch of detail to remind us of the scene, season and even sounds of their surroundings.

And another mystery as it seems the Odils have abandoned their farm.

So the homely nurse says to the attractive one, “Did you know the patient in bed number four has the word ‘Swan’ tattooed on his. . . member?”
“Nah,” replies the attractive nurse. “It says Saskatchewan.”
Seriously, sometimes Jerric is brilliant. His idea to opt for a joke instead of attempting to either question or comfort directly was wise indeed. Lildereth is a perfect (and deliciously frustrating) blend of wonder and mystery. These four (okay, I’m including Ulfe) are wonderfully compelling and endearing characters. For a change, Ulfe smells worse than Jerric!

I’m delighted to read wherever you take me, but I’m sort of hoping for an appearance in Chorrol by Abiene?

Nit? ‘It made no different to Jerric.’
Although I suppose you could have intended some literary license, did you perhaps mean ‘difference’?

[mALX]

I always love to hear Jerric and Darnand muse on the way things work, their discussion on the Oblivion gates was a perfect example.

Poor Lildereth! I wonder what had her so upset? But she came to her friends in her grief, even though she had to drug herself on Fennel seeds to get there, lol.

Jerric's trauma over whether she and Darnand would sleep together had me laughing - how many times did he sleep with women in Darnand's hearing? ROFL !!

Very touching ending to the chapter (minus Ulfe rolling in dead deer, ROFL), but leaves me wondering why Lildereth was crying

Awesome Write !!

[haute ecole rider]

As for the mystery of the closed Oblivion Gate, I have to agree with Acadian here.

Ingame, the only Gates that closed were the ones I closed myself as the PC; none 'mysteriously' closed without any input from me. Ergo these Gates must be deliberately closed by someone on the 'outside,' i.e. Nirn.

In fiction, of course, we can write anything we want, including spontaneously closing Gates. But as that would be inconsistent with the logic of Mehrunes Dagon and his cohorts, such would clash with the TES setting of the story.

In science, we have a saying - the simplest hypothesis in explaining the most confounding events is often the true one. Therefore I side with Acadian - some other character, seen or as yet unseen, closed the Gate here. Surely Jerric can't be thinking the's the only one who can close Gates! Could he be that egoistical?

[SubRosa]

In science, we have a saying - the simplest hypothesis in explaining the most confounding events is often the true one.

I believe they call that Occamnor's Razor in Tamriel...

[haute ecole rider]

And the Steelyard on Arbre. (okay, I'm currently reading this.

[haute ecole rider]

EDIT: double post!

This post has been edited by haute ecole rider: May 11 2012, 06:21 PM

[McBadgere]

Don't wish to get into this old chestnut here, but...

In fiction, of course, we can write anything we want, including spontaneously closing Gates. But as that would be inconsistent with the logic of Mehrunes Dagon and his cohorts, such would clash with the TES setting of the story.

Which is, in itself, a fiction... ...

Depends which laws (or lores) the Jerricverse hold dear... ...

Aaamywho...Loved it...

Dunno if I was misinterpreting things...But did the pair (Jezza and Darnand now) seem...Slightly distant?...As if the thing with Lildreth had driven a wedge between them?...Could be just my reading of it though... ...

Absolutely loved it...

Shockingly enough, I'm totally okay with whatever you do with gates, lorefully or otherwise...I loved the idea of opening them simply to get from one place to another...Makes sense to me...But then again, it would wouldn't it?... ...

Poor old Chillrend... ...Hadn't gotten to that bit yet...*Robert is sad*...

Loved the reappearance of Lildreth and Ulfe...Love that dog...

Love this story!!...So much...One of these days I'm so gonna be able to read the rest of it... ...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

[Olen]

Wow there was a lot in that piece.

So someone else is closing gates, whether thats the Mythic Dawn to relocate them or another character? Who knows, though I do wonder whether Lildreth might have been involved, and whether it might be connected to her upset.

And the Odiil's are gone. If the door is boarded up someone must have done it though, perhaps we'll meet them in Chorrol. More mysteries.

Then Lildreth. Again the character interactions are spot on, we haven't really seen how Darnard will react, and I suspect whether things are awkward or not will depend mainly on him. I do wonder what has her upset though. Most intreguing...

Great part, and plenty hooks to keep me interested (as if that was needed), more? Please?

[Grits]

SubRosa: I’m glad that Mythic Dawn activity seems like a plausible explanation for the Gate mystery. The game gives us a few maniacs jumping on the PC’s sword, but I think there must be a lot more going on that the player just doesn’t see. Three is a fun number to work with, as any two left alone often can’t resist talking about the third. Thank you, SubRosa!

King Coin: The horror of getting stranded was what I wanted to emphasize, I’m glad you pointed it out. Now he has risks to weigh before he jumps through another Gate, rather than giving in to blind impulse. Thank you, KC!

Acadian: Indeed, someone closed the Gate and just wasn’t seen. I’m delighted that you thought of Lildereth, as she is both capable and under enough stress to take that kind of risk. Her quest will come to light eventually, I promise. We will also soon rejoin Abiene’s company. She has been pacing and fretting lately, as my drawn-out posting schedule has made me skip her interludes. Thank you for appreciating how Jerric really got it right with Lildereth this time. Thank you also for your eagle eye. I corrected that nit.

mALX: I’m glad you enjoyed Jerric’s discomfort as he anticipated his friends getting it on without him. As you said, he is usually the offender in these situations, so he deserves every second of cringing! You are exactly right about Lildereth, she pushed herself until she found them. Thank you, mALX!

haute ecole rider: Yep, some mortal’s hands closed that Gate. In the game, Random Oblivion Worlds 5 and 6 both have two Gates. When the PC enters one and takes the stone, the game only closes the Gate that the PC entered most recently, leaving the other Gate open to a different world if you re-enter it from the Cyrodiil side. That sounds like a mistake to me. So in Jerric’s World, taking the sigil stone closes both Gates. One Gate would close leaving a sweaty adventurer clutching a sigil stone in its ruins (or a Mythic Dawn agent clutching a mysteriously humming satchel), and the other would simply close. The point was what you said: unlike the game, Jerric is not the single player in the story. Thank you, haute!

McBadgere: You spotted the Lildereth wedge between the fellows, slight but definitely there. You know that Jerric won’t be able to leave it there much longer! Thank you for your support, McB! Your TES Knights-verse is such a huge inspiration, it’s made me think of things in very different ways than when I started this story. So many possibilities!

Olen: Exactly, someone closed the Gate and someone also boarded up the Odiils’ doors, so the answers are out there. The Jerric and Lildereth part gave me fits this time. Eventually I realized that I had present-day Jerric and future Lildereth in the same scene. The whole story is happening in my head all at the same time. I need some help from Akatosh! The reaction from Darnand that you have been anticipating is coming up next. Thank you, Olen!


Where we are: Camped out by the Black Road south of Weynon Priory. Jerric and Darnand discovered that the Odiil family was missing, probably after some violence. Lildereth and Ulfe rejoined the men. This is a short part, but at least it didn’t take me three weeks to post it this time.




Chapter 15: Chorrol, Part Three


Jerric woke gagging on a stench that was not his own.

“Argh!” he choked. “Ulfe!” He elbow-crawled out from under her and staggered to his feet. “Breton!”

Darnand looked up from where he was crouched over the packs. “Good morning.”

“Yeah.” Jerric blinked around at the misty dawn.

“I have balanced these for your approval. The rest of the kahve is for you. We are finished with the fire.”

Jerric picked up the kahve pot before he drowned the last embers. Darnand got busy shifting Jerric’s gear out of the tent, stepping over the sprawling Ulfe.

“Where’s the elf?” asked Jerric. Their tankards and wooden bowls were nowhere in sight, but a short stack of travel biscuits perched on a stump. He drank kahve directly from the pot as he picked up his breakfast.

“I estimate that she left nearly an hour ago. We are instructed to look after the dog. Lildereth intends to join us in Chorrol.” Darnand straightened and pushed the hair out of his eyes.

Ulfe had rolled over onto her back sticking halfway out of the tent. At Darnand’s words, she contorted her head into an upside-down version of her pricked-ears expression.

“Ulfe,” Jerric called, “come on. Papa’s working.”

The hound lurched to her feet and stretched from tongue to tail. Jerric dunked a rock-hard biscuit into the kahve pot. He watched Darnand pack up the tent while he tried to swallow it. They would need to set the tent back up outside the guild hall in Chorrol so it could dry in the sun. His bedroll could also use airing.

“You have a bard’s haircut,” Jerric observed.

Darnand tossed his head so that he could shoot Jerric a look with his unobstructed eye.

Jerric took that as encouragement. “You should have cut it short or let it grow long enough to tie back. Now it just gets in the way when you’re casting.” He dunked another biscuit. “I guess Imperial City barbers don’t think about these things.”

“I did not think of it,” said Darnand. “I was concerned with making a good appearance in Chorrol.” His fingers went to the back of his neck.

“The trouble with short hair is that you have to keep cutting it,” said Jerric.

Ulfe trotted over, bright-eyed and grinning. With his hands full, Jerric did a hopping dance on the cold leaves to keep her nose away from him.

“I struggle to imagine you with long hair,” Darnand said.

“Oh yeah, I was vain about it. Until I cut it for a prank. Another guard on my route was worried about going bald. His hair was about this same yellow. Anyway I cut mine off and saved it. A couple of weeks later I started dropping some on his bedroll every night after he fell asleep. Just a few strands at first, then a little more each night until he noticed. One of the drivers caught on and opened a book on when he’d snap. When he did, it was ugly. I felt bad enough to let him give me half a beating before I knocked him out.” Jerric shook his head. “Those were happy days.”

Ulfe had ceased her attempts to nose Jerric and now sat gazing up at him. Her eyes flicked between his face and his breakfast. Jerric held out the last biscuit. She took it gingerly in her front teeth, then dropped it as if he had given her a hot coal. Her face took on an expression of deep reproach.

“Short rations, girl,” Jerric told her. “Anyway, you still have deer breath. I’m sure you’re not half as hungry as I am.”

“Our early start will soon elude us,” said Darnand. He nodded toward Jerric’s pack.

“I guess Lildereth didn’t sleep much.” Jerric walked over and shook out his leggings. “Did you two—”

“Couple in the dirt while you slept?” Darnand snapped. “No, we did not.”

“—talk about what was upsetting her?” Jerric finished, eyebrows climbing.

Darnand pressed his fingers against his eyelids. “Forgive me. I am out of sorts.”

“Yeah.” Jerric stepped onto a flat stone while he dressed to keep wet leaves out of his clothing. Darnand would talk when he was ready. He kept his silence until Jerric was buckling his greaves.

“As you know, Chorrol was my home,” Darnand began.

Jerric shrugged into his leather cuirass. He gave an encouraging nod.

Darnand appeared to gather himself. “After my parents were killed, I went through a time when I was… uncivil. Teekeeus took me in when I would have been on the street. He gave me work at the guild hall and a pallet in the basement. All strictly by the book, of course. Every night I locked myself in the summoning chamber and practiced until I was empty. The day I turned eighteen, I joined the guild and moved up to the common quarters. That was the first day of this part of my life.” He met Jerric’s eyes.

“And you think the whole city is still judging you,” Jerric guessed. “You must have really been uncivil.”

“I was wronged and grieving. It may come as a surprise to you, but I have never had a wealth of friends, though I am still well-connected through my family’s name. I suppose I wish to reflect well upon Teekeeus in my father’s absence.”

Jerric watched him for a moment. “You didn’t cut your hair to impress an Argonian.”

“No. And my recent folly compounds an existing one.” Darnand looked miserable.

Jerric eventually guessed his meaning. “There’s a woman! The someone special you were guarding your loins for.” He controlled his urge to jump on the Breton and shake the details out of him.

“Indeed,” said Darnand, sighing with relief as if he had just made some confession. “And I thank you.” He headed toward the horses, Ulfe trotting by his side.

Jerric’s curiosity threatened to overwhelm his last shred of respect for Darnand’s privacy. I’ll get it out of him eventually, Jerric thought.

“For what?” he called after Darnand. “Let’s get going. Gods, you’re a talker. We’ve nearly spent the morning.”