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

[Olen]

I sense a turning point. The build up has been there, this far they've been coasting, certainly driven by what they want but now I sense more is added. They don't just have what they want but they have a mission and are in danger, so they have fear to drive them too now. There's more signs of change too, Piner is dead and their list of allies grows shorter while the danger comes closer. Leaving Flash and Jerric's fame are other signs of the old times going.

How well will it work though, Jerric seems to be a memorable bloke and no name change will change him, and they make quite a trio anyway. It might throw the Dawn off the trail for a bit, but not for long.

I rather suspect we will still have Lildreth, but it changes the party dynamic more now Darnard is in on the secret. I think Chorrol may be quite a pivotal place.

[Grits]

SubRosa: That Sunderblade would be perfect against dremora armor. Maybe Venco had a budget crisis. I must have been woozy with fever when I wrote that “one soul” line! I’m changing it to Dunmer. Thank you, SubRosa!

mALX: I always imagined that the real Blades would have some truly scary individuals working for them. Not at Cloud Ruler Temple, but in the field. That “Holy crap” moment was exactly what I was hoping for with Darnand already sweating it out in a chair! Thank you, mALX!

King Coin: It was Brother Piner’s recent death outside Chorrol (which doesn’t happen in the game) that hit him so hard. He really liked Piner the first time he met him, and he had a lot of respect for him after the attack that happened the second time he saw him (because Piner was a robe-wearing badass). Also he believes that the Odiils’ disappearance and Piner’s death are somehow his fault. Thank you, KC, especially for your comment about Darnand!

ghastley: I’m sure the third Blade will love her! Maybe that’s how they’ll uncover the Blades traitor, it’s the one who trusts the elf!

Acadian: The Vencos of any world are a mystery to me, so your kind words are very reassuring. Thank you for drawing attention to Jerric’s moment of nobility, that was the heart of the segment for me. The comfort he gets from his friends comes with a dash of guilt. And I’m sure that Jerric’s poor nose is terrified! Actually, that made me think of something… *clickity clickity*

McBadgere: Thank you so much, McBadgere! Very close to being a git is right. I mean he has to use people, but it’s for Good, so it’s complicated. Oh, I wrote a bit today for later in the chapter that was pretty bland in my mind until inspiration struck from your Androforms, so thank you for that, too!

Olen: Very much a turning point, and I have been dragging my feet getting here. You have highlighted the building pressures, thank you! It was fun to imagine Venco dealing with Jerric. You’re right, a name change won’t keep him from continually losing his shirt and associated outrageous behavior, so we’ll have to wait and see how his version of keeping a low profile works out.


Where we are: Darnand has been taken fully into the Blades’ trust. Jerric has handed over his Kvatch and Blades gear and agreed to keep a low profile as Kjellingson of Anvil. Much to Jerric’s dismay, Flash had to stay behind at Weynon Priory.

Note: The Achille in this chapter is not meant to be Achille the Blade from the game. Also, so you don’t have to look it up: Morning Star/January, First Seed/March, Sun’s Height/July. And Destri: hint, hint.




Chapter 15: Chorrol, Part Five


Jerric and Darnand left North Country Stables and walked toward Chorrol’s South Gate. Ulfe kept pace at Jerric’s side. The sun had dropped behind the mountains. Jerric could feel the night’s chill seeping up from the ground.

“You go back tomorrow and buy the horse,” Jerric said. “That Dunmer doesn’t like me.”

“I shall. I would also like to purchase another saddle. It will mean leaving some of our gear behind, but I wish to offer a mount to Lildereth.”

“Yeah,” said Jerric. His tone betrayed how much he already missed her.

“As for our camp needs...”

“I can handle it,” said Jerric. “I’ll sort the gear and you make the trade. We’ll sleep warmer in a smaller tent anyway. Well, it will be lines and tarps, but we’ll manage.” He cut his eyes at Darnand. “Keep your mitts off my cook pots.”

Darnand snorted. Jerric grinned. The Breton resented the effort involved in camp cookery, yet he seemed to appreciate the hot meals.

“I am afraid that we must purge our portable library,” Darnand said. “I have a few volumes that I might live without.”

“I’m reading a book about the Interregnum.” Jerric tried to sound casual. “You would not believe how good it is. I can’t wait to read the next part. When I’m through, you might want to borrow it.”

“In either pack, it will weigh the same.”

The guards nodded them through the open gates. Fountain Gate held few pedestrians and no horses, so Jerric paused in front of the healer statue to admire the view.

“I shall be pleased to see Abiene,” said Darnand, his eyes on the statue.

Her name brought a surge of conflicting emotions. Jerric tried to keep his voice neutral. “Yeah.”

“Will you accompany me to the guild hall?”

Jerric shifted the straps over his shoulder. “I’ll follow you there tonight, but I think I should sleep at an inn. Some folks here know me, but not everyone. Won’t hurt to start acting like who we’re supposed to be.”

“You might dine at the Oak and Crosier, but sellswords stay at the Grey Mare.” Darnand indicted the two inns with a lift of his chin.

“I guess the Grey Mare is where I should do my drinking.”

Darnand gave him a look. “I hope you will return to the guild hall, if it comes to that.”

Piner’s shadow had joined the others in Jerric’s mind. He wondered which of the local rock piles or caves had seen the monk’s end. His eyes went to the steeple visible over the Oak and Crosier. Abiene. She was probably there right now. The thought made his gut twist while his body ached. He knew he wouldn’t stay away from her.

“I’ll have some business in town as well as whatever task Teekeeus gives me,” Jerric said. “I’ll go to Fire and Steel in the morning. I’ll want to stow my new armor with the rest of our gear at the guild hall. Mage locks beat whatever stick I’ll use to wedge the door shut at the Grey Mare. I don’t want to tempt some thief into making a mistake in Emfrid’s, uh, establishment.”

Darnand’s eyebrows told Jerric that he had taken the bait.

“Emfrid,” Jerric sighed. “Now there’s a beauty.” He felt his face flush, even though it was the truth.

“Let us make our way to the guild hall,” Darnand said. “If you are ready.”

Jerric glanced down at Ulfe where she sat politely with her head against his thigh, gazing up at him. “You want to stay with me tonight, girl?” Jerric asked her. “Or the mean one?”

Ulfe’s jaw dropped in a panting grin.

“You may desist with this fiction,” Darnand told him. “I know that you intend to keep the hound.”

The three of them walked around the dry fountain and headed up the street toward Great Oak Place.

“Book stores,” said Jerric. “You or me?”

“I expect I will have the time to pursue that task,” said Darnand. “You may trust me to be thorough. Additionally, I know a few individuals in Chorrol who might have contacts. My interest in daedric texts will not seem unusual to them.”

Jerric noticed a man approaching. Fair-skinned and tall for a Breton, with the kind of red hair most often seen on Nords and prostitutes. The brocade cloak with fox fur mantle and his heavy way of walking suggested he was a merchant type. The two young men at his sides wore practical overcoats and carried thick satchels. No weapons were visible. It was the man’s sharp glare that had drawn Jerric’s attention. He was looking Darnand over with cold assessment. Jerric felt his friend draw himself up at his side.

That fetcher might have some frost resistance, Jerric decided. He brought a shock spell to the front of his mind while he pictured how he would disable the trio. Fast and hard, the redhead first and then the two youngsters. They have higher ground, but the lads aren’t paying attention. They’ll hit the paving stones surprised. Just don’t trip over the dog.

“Darnand,” the man said in passing.

Jerric could hear the strain in Darnand’s voice. “Brother.”

They walked on up the hill for a moment before Jerric spoke. “Your brother,” he ventured. “You don’t look much alike. How long since you talked to him?”

Darnand stepped over to the side of a building, dropping his packs to the ground. He braced himself against the stone wall. “Years. They say he has his mother’s look. The Skyrim blood is strong in that family.” He pressed his eyes shut with shaking fingers.

“Uh…” Jerric looked around to see if anyone was watching them. He was not sure how to handle this unexpected lapse.

Darnand pulled himself straight after a moment, meeting Jerric’s concerned gaze with what looked like defiance.

“You’d better just spit it out,” said Jerric.

Darnand gathered his packs and started walking again. “Achille’s mother was the first Mistress Penoit. She fell victim to a wasting illness when he was a lad. A woman from High Rock was hired to nurse her, someone known to the family. A commoner. Achille’s mother died at the end of Morning Star. Mister Penoit wed the nurse in First Seed. I was born in Sun’s Height.”

Jerric gazed up at the sky while he did the math. “That doesn’t look good.”

“It does not. Achille perceived me as a threat from an early age. My mother was a gentle, loving woman. She was kind to Achille, but he never accepted her. To worsen matters, I am the very image of our father. The Penoits left their titles behind when they came to Cyrodiil, but not their pretensions. It burned Achille that a lesser son could look as if he stepped out of a family portrait, while as the heir he has the appearance of some serving girl’s by-blow.” Darnand glanced over. “I mean you no offense.”

“None taken. He does have a Nordish look. I know you delicate types don’t say that as a compliment.” Jerric considered Darnand’s fine features and slender build. He thanked the gods once again for making him a son of Skyrim.

Darnand made an elegant gesture. “Did you notice his gloves? He wears them in every season. He is ashamed of his peasant fists.” A frown passed over his face. “When I grew old enough to recognize it, I returned my brother’s dislike in kind.”

Jerric made a mental leap. “He’s not so great at magic, is he?”

Now Darnand looked distinctly smug. “He could not cast his way out of a parchment wrapper.”

“He cast you out of your home fast enough.”

Darnand gave Jerric a quick little smile. “I see that you apprehend the relationship. That is a comfort to me.”

Jerric shook his head as they passed into Great Oak Place. Bretons.




.

This post has been edited by Grits: Jun 12 2012, 05:52 PM

[haute ecole rider]

Ooooh, a little bit more of Darnand's history! I found it very interesting, especially since I have a story idea percolating in the back of my mind that takes advantage of all the different strains floating around that part of Nirn.

I really liked how you conveyed the discomfort that Achille's appearance caused Darnand's, and the unease he felt at his brother's approach. Better yet, how our thick-skinned Nord hero picked up on that tension while the other was still some distance away. Jerric certainly is no dumb Nord, that's for sure!

[McBadgere]

Oh, I wrote a bit today for later in the chapter that was pretty bland in my mind until inspiration struck from your Androforms, so thank you for that, too!

Um...Wow... ...Anytime!!...I am honoured to have helped in some small way milady *Bows*... ...

Oh yeah!!!...New Jerric!!...*Sighs contentedly*... ...

"...It will mean leaving some of our gear behind, but I wish to offer a mount to Lildereth.”

Tea, meet monitor... ...

Loved that line...

And methinks this a huge hint at someone...

“I’m reading a book about the Interregnum.” Jerric tried to sound casual. “You would not believe how good it is. I can’t wait to read the next part. When I’m through, you might want to borrow it.”

Unsurprisingly enough, I loved this intro trawl into Chorrol...I could picture it all brilliantly...

And then, we get some background on the Darnand thrown in for good measure...

Great descriptions of the trio btw...Nicely done...

Another excellent chapter...Looking forward to much more...

Oh yes...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

[SubRosa]

“I’m reading a book about the Interregnum.”
I wonder if it is the one by that famous Redguard historian, Destri Melarg?

So Darnand's brother is part of that family? Rather than part of Darnand's? This will be interesting. Ahh, so they are half-brothers. It sounds like Achille is quite the heel as well. Very aptly named on your part.

[mALX]

Ooh, a bit of Darnand's history and family skeletons rattling! This is really interesting, like fishing and seeing the bobber dunk and waiting for the rest of the bite !!!! I am intrigued to know more, and also to find out who Darnand was saving himself for (hopefully NOT Abiene, or it will blow his friendship with Jerric completely apart! ARGH !!! LOVE this chapter, Awesome Write !!!!

[Acadian]

“I shall. I would also like to purchase another saddle. It will mean leaving some of our gear behind, but I wish to offer a mount to Lildereth.”
I thought he already offered her one, and she accepted. *slaps self* OMG, I’m thinking like Jerric!

'Darnand snorted. Jerric grinned. The Breton resented the effort involved in camp cookery, yet he seemed to appreciate the hot meals.’
What a great partnership! Jerric cooks & cleans and, in return, Darnand eats!

Yup, got the Destri hint from Jerric's reading selection.

’That fetcher might have some frost resistance, Jerric decided. He brought a shock spell to the front of his mind while he pictured how he would disable the trio. Fast and hard, the redhead first and then the two youngsters. They have higher ground, but the lads aren’t paying attention. They’ll hit the paving stones surprised. Just don’t trip over the dog.’
I see Jerric noted the likely Nordic blood in the tall red-headed Breton and its implication of frost resistance. How neat to listen in on Jerric’s quick, but practiced assessment as he pondered his response to the possible threat. Quite intriguing about Darnand’s brother.

’Jerric considered Darnand’s fine features and slender build. He thanked the gods once again for making him a son of Skyrim.’
For some reason, this made me want to cheer for our rugged hero!

’Jerric made a mental leap. “He’s not so great at magic, is he?”
Now Darnand looked distinctly smug. “He could not cast his way out of a parchment wrapper.”
“He cast you out of your home fast enough.”
Darnand gave Jerric a quick little smile. “I see that you apprehend the relationship. That is a comfort to me.”
Jerric shook his head as they passed into Great Oak Place. Bretons.’
I simply loved this little exchange! From its setting-friendly wrappings to tasking the word ‘cast’ with double duty. And finally, that unique and delightful understanding between our two friends, the odd couple.

I am so delighted to read wherever you take me, my friend, but I must confess that I am hopeful of seeing Abiene again during this Chorrol visit.

[King Coin]

I have really started to miss Cyrodiil and your opening description is not helping! Chorrol is my favorite city in Cyrodill. There’s just so much to do in Skyrim yet.

Lildereth. What is she up to? She’s been off on her own as of late.

A brother! So here’s one of the Bretons that tossed Darnand out of the house.

He thanked the gods once again for making him a son of Skyrim.


Now Darnand looked distinctly smug. “He could not cast his way out of a parchment wrapper.”


Bretons indeed.

[ghastley]

It just makes sense that the Alchemist would be the cook. Although knowing how he mixes his potions, I wouldn't want to watch the preparation, just trust the results.

All the bits I wanted to quote already were.

nits: was "sellswords" a typo for spellswords, or your term for a mercenary?

[Grits]

haute ecole rider: High Rock seems like the perfect setting for stories of violence and betrayal. The more I read about lore, the more interesting the “other” provinces sound! Years of guard work make Jerric scan for threats as naturally as breathing. It’s fun to show him being awesome, since he so often spills his mead while searching for his pants. Thank you, haute!

McBadgere: I was proud of Jerric for not teasing Darnand about the mounting. Here’s the link to Destri’s magnificent Interregnum, and Jerric is not the only one who wants to find it at the top of the board again someday. Thank you, McB! It’s great to have you back!

SubRosa: Achille is one of those characters who showed up fully formed and that was his name, so I thought I’d better not fight it. At least now Jerric knows enough to stop trying to drag Darnand into brothels! Thank you, SubRosa!

mALX: Yep, now Jerric is really in the know. I have an episode started from Darnand’s point of view, so some questions will be answered. It’s the only way I could think to get him to spill the goods, since he thinks that a three word statement amounts to a full confession. Thank you, mALX!

Acadian: Abiene is very much expecting a social call from both men and a girlfriend chat whenever Lildereth shows up. I can see her marching down from the chapel if someone doesn't get over there pretty quick! Thank you so much for your kind words, Acadian. The odd couple moments are such fun to write!

King Coin: I love the Chorrol area, and I’m still finding new things there. Jerric just found out (in his game) the reason behind that crazy Dunmer in the burgundy dress who runs around killing wildlife. Maybe Lildereth will have to go on a Dunmer hunt! Thanks, KC!

ghastley: You’re so right, do not ask Jerric what he put in the soup. And best to chew carefully. It was sellswords for mercenary, and thanks for pointing it out. That’s exactly the kind of error my eyes just don’t see. Thank you, ghastley!

Where we are: Darnand, Jerric, and Ulfe have arrived in Chorrol. An uncomfortable moment with Darnand’s half-brother led Darnand to explain that although his parents managed to marry before he was born, he was the product of their adulterous relationship. Lildereth is off somewhere on her own.




Chapter 15: Chorrol, Part Six


Jerric and Darnand stopped in front of the Chorrol Mages Guild Hall. Great Oak Place was quiet behind them. The street lamps were burning. The only sounds were wind through bare branches and a guard’s booted feet. Ulfe dropped onto her haunches. Jerric watched his friend.

“They will be gathered in the reception hall at this hour,” Darnand said after a moment.

“Waiting for dinner,” said Jerric. “That counter will be loaded with drinks and stuff on those little pieces of bread.” Darnand remained still and silent, looking up at the round stained glass window. “I guess I’ll stow my gear and head to the bathhouse. Scrub off the stink and see what Emfrid has left in the pot.”

Darnand’s slight nod let Jerric know that he was listening.

“I’ll come back for breakfast,” Jerric continued. “I’ll want to talk to Teekeeus and see about my armor tomorrow.”

“We should speak to Athragar in the morning. As you anticipate, this evening will be for sharing news.” Darnand gave him the look that was his version of a hand clasp. After another moment of not speaking, he moved up onto the portico and opened the door.

Jerric followed him into the crowded reception chamber, Ulfe pressed politely against his leg. Warm light shone from the chandelier, a wealth of candles, and even up from the circular inlay on the floor. Draperies were still pulled across the doors to the dining chamber, but cooking smells drifted through the scents of perfumed oils and hair tonics. This chapter knew how to make any evening an occasion. Jerric glanced over his guild fellows and their guests.

A richly gowned woman was chatting with the bald Imperial whose name Jerric couldn’t remember. Two dark elves in crisp new Apprentice robes were standing by the plates of bread and cheese. Athragar and Angalmo had their heads together with Teekeeus over glasses of wine. A chorus of greetings sounded. Darnand was swept into the group.

Jerric hooked one of Darnand’s packs from his shoulder and headed for the basement. His gear would be safe from outsiders behind the guild’s mage locks. A few moments of shuffling put his overnight necessities in the day pack. Most of their clothing could stand some more use, but they would need to launder soon. He tucked a few blades about his person and slung Redeemer across his back. Just the basics, he told himself. The bulk of their purse remained in Darnand’s keeping. Coins had a way of slipping through Jerric’s fingers.

He kept moving on the way back through the reception hall, counting on Darnand to fill in their explanations. Jerric turned at the door to offer good evenings and check once more on his friend. The Breton stood between Athragar and Teekeeus, a goblet in his hand. The old confidence was back in his face, and renewed energy showed in the set of his shoulders. Jerric hoped he wouldn’t stay up all night. Then he laughed at himself for nursemaiding. This was Darnand’s homecoming. He was right to step away.

Jerric found his eyes returning to the chapel’s steeple as he made his way to the bathhouse. By the time he washed the hound and then got himself clean, it would be late. There was no discreet way to reach Abiene at that hour, short of injuring himself and pleading a curse against his magicka. He considered for a moment. No, a Master Alchemist would be ill-advised to attempt that deception.

As he turned into the alley behind the Oak and Crosier he scanned the street once more for Abiene’s trim form. He imagined the way she strode along with purpose, wayward curls floating around her head. Then he pictured her strolling at leisure in that white summer dress, a smile in her eyes and sunlight on her shoulders. That led to another lap around Fountain Gate to get his body back under control.

The bathhouse attendant greeted them with a grin. “You want hot?”

“Half hot,” said Jerric, “and I’m going to wash the dog.”

“Fine by me,” said the man. “Just keep her out of the soaking tub.” He took Jerric’s coins and handed him a locker key. “Wash stations are straight out back. She can come inside when she settles down. They like to stretch out by the stove.”

Out in the paved courtyard Ulfe soon had them both covered in her soap. Jerric scrubbed himself off while she celebrated her freedom by racing in circles and crashing into walls, dragging the wet towel along in her teeth. By the time Jerric rinsed himself she sat panting by the door. He realized that although their breath was steaming out, he only felt a little cool. He examined the locker key looped around his wrist. It bore a mild enchantment against cold and heat. He wondered if this was what gave Darnand the idea for Abiene’s present.

His stomach reminded him that time was passing, but his bones craved a soak. Inside he eased into the waiting tub. Ulfe flopped down in front of the wood stove. After a time the bathing attendant returned. He bore a wine bottle, a clay mug, and a spot of color on each cheek.

“Need anything?”

“No, thanks.” Jerric leaned his head back and tried to get more of himself under the water.

“Name’s Hastus,” said the man.

“I’m Jerric. Pleased to meet you.” He guessed that the late hour was to blame for the empty bathhouse and Hastus’ undivided attention.

“Thought I recognized you from summer’s end,” said Hastus. “You know, I almost have a mind to charge you Nords by the foot.” He sat down on a wooden stool.

Jerric looked over to see if he was jesting. “How do you know it was me? I’m not the only Nord you’ve seen in County Chorrol.”

“Ha! You might be the only one who bathes.”

Jerric sighed. At times like these handing out a beating only served to tell the man that he was right. Besides, his tone didn’t offer offense. “The captain of your Guard is a Nord,” Jerric said. He gestured for the wine. If this fetcher was going to act familiar, he could share his drink.

Hastus filled his mug and handed Jerric the bottle. “That he is. Keeps to himself, not very social. I see him from time to time at the Oak and Crosier. Now there’s a fine establishment. Respectable.” Hastus leaned back grinning. “You staying at the Mare?”

Jerric had to laugh. “Yeah.” Only an Imperial could be this reckless with his mouth and still keep his teeth. He winced at the sour wine. “It’s hard work drinking this after Skingrad.”

“You’re from the West Weald? I’d’ve guessed Gold Coast by your talk.”

Jerric was in no mood to reminisce about Kvatch. He let his consonants slide into the Abecean. “Anvil. Ever been there?” Evah bin they-ah? He took another swig of wine.

“Never been farther than the Imperial City. Say, wha—”

“Do you know what happened to the Odiils?” Jerric interrupted. He realized he wasn’t sure exactly what he was supposed to admit about his identity, his home, or his recent activities. This man already knows me, he decided. Best to save the dissembling for Bruma.

“I heard they all got killed. Their place is up for sale or rent, just like the others over that way. Goblin country. Too far out for city watch, and the militia has their eyes open for daedra. Folk are right to move back inside the walls. Can’t expect someone to defend what’s indefensible.”

“They were farmers.” Jerric gestured with his bottle. “What will you drink when there’s no new harvest?”

Hastus considered his wine. “I suppose the Elder Council is thinking on that. In the meantime, maybe we should all plant some potatoes. Say, the old man used to drink at the Grey Mare. Maybe that Nord woman will have something to tell you.”

“Emfrid.” Jerric started climbing out of the bath. “I’m heading there now, unless you have a mind to cook me dinner.”

Hastus hooked a thumb toward the adjacent chamber. “I set a shaving stand up for you.”

Jerric nodded his thanks. The man knew his business.

The chapel bells tolled the quarter hour as Jerric walked into the Grey Mare. He had lost track of which hour, but it was late. Three young men sat at one table, a pitcher and mugs between them. The dark-haired one strummed listlessly on a lute, and his friends were quiet. Emfrid was working on one of the table tops with a brush and scrubbing sand. She straightened and wiped her hands. Jerric saw recognition dawn in her face.

“Welcome back,” she said. After a quick glance at the table of Imperials, she gestured toward the empty bar.

Jerric took a seat and settled his belongings. Emfrid filled a tankard while he enjoyed her long-limbed grace. He guessed from the single tapped keg that the Mare was not offering a wide selection this evening.

Emfrid waited until he had taken a long drink before she spoke. “Will you be in town for long, Jerric?”

“A few days at least, maybe a week. I’d like to stay here, if I may. That is, if you have a bed. I mean if you have a room available.”

He guessed that she had a great deal of practice ignoring men’s blundering, because she didn’t even raise an eyebrow. “I do. I’m glad you got here tonight, with Heart’s Day right around the corner. I’ll have my hands full then.”

Jerric lost a moment doing the math. “Heart’s Day is…?”

“The day after tomorrow.” She brushed a palm over the bar and gave him a slow smile. “On Loredas. You still have time to shop.”

“Uh, right.” Jerric ran a hand through his hair. He had a few gifts for Abiene since he had missed her birthday. He could save one and give it to her for Heart’s Day. Now that he thought about it, a ring had been a poor choice to have Darnand enchant for her. It was going to be hard enough to put some distance between them without making promises with jewelry. Then he had a thought. Was Emfrid flirting with him?

His stomach growled before he could decide. Emfrid walked out through a side door without a word. Jerric looked down at Ulfe, whose quiet presence he had completely forgotten. “Smooth. Let’s keep this between us, girl.”

Emfrid reappeared bearing a clay tureen shaped like a pumpkin. “Stew,” she said, placing it in front of Jerric. When she lifted the lid, fragrant steam made sweat break out on his face while his mouth filled with anticipation. He swallowed a few times, fearful of drooling.

“Thanks.” An experimental scoop brought corn, beans, shredded meat, and chunks of pumpkin to light. Chopped winter greens and onions swirled through the thick gravy. Emfrid returned and slid a platter of brown bread across the bar. The accompanying crock of butter looked on the brink of melting. Jerric realized that he was meant to eat directly from the tureen. All of this was just for him. He gave Emfrid a look of pure adoration.

She answered with a cool smile. “May I fix a bowl for your dog?”

Ulfe’s ears pricked up hopefully.

“Yeah. She —” But Emfrid was gone again.

Toward the bottom of the tureen, Jerric looked up to find Emfrid’s eyes on him. He put down the spoon and wiped his mouth.

“I have ill news, Jerric.”

“The Odiils. Do you know what happened?”

Emfrid took a sip from her own tankard. “I heard they found Rallus in the high field, Valus and Antus out by the well. The house and barn doors had been broken down. Animals had been at them, so there’s no telling what occurred.”

“They were attacked is what occurred. Someone broke down those doors. They would only have been barred from the inside. Do they think it was goblins? Captain Bittneld, or whoever investigated?”

“I don’t know, Jerric, only that they’re gone. Valus spoke your name every time he came in here, so I thought you would want to know.”

“He gave me his sword. Chillrend.”

“I know. He thought highly of you. He never forgot that you stood with his boys.”

“He was going to figure out how to cultivate Nirnroot.”

“Well I don’t know about that.” Emfrid topped up their drinks from the keg. “He used to say, ‘May we all come to peaceful ends, and leave our debts unto our friends.’”

Jerric felt a grin tugging his face. “That sounds like an Imperial’s benediction.”

Emfrid raised her mug. “To Valus, Rallus, and Antus. May they find peace.”

Jerric clunked his against it. “May Arkay take away all their harm.”

They drained their tankards. Jerric felt a colossal belch building. Thankfully Emfrid walked over to tend to her other customers before it escaped.

Ulfe finished scouring her bowl against the bar. She lapped noisily at her water and lifted her head before the last swallow, letting it spill out of her jaws as she grinned up at him. Jerric passed her a hunk of bread. Ulfe took it with gentle dignity, then sprawled sideways with her back legs under his bar stool. Jerric shook his head. This was definitely his dog.

An elegantly dressed Altmer woman descended the stairs while Jerric was stuffing his mouth with the last of the loaf. She scanned the room before she came to sit beside Jerric.

She didn’t seem threatening, but the hard look in her eyes gave the lie to her smile. Those lines on her face did not come from laughing. Jerric thought it odd for her to sit there without speaking, but he supposed that an Altmer might not bother to keep up with human customs. Her eyes traveled over him like she was considering a purchase.

“I’m Jerric,” he finally said.

“Earana,” said the Altmer. “Looks like you're handy with a blade.”





.

This post has been edited by Grits: Jul 3 2012, 11:48 PM

[SubRosa]

Coins had a way of slipping through Jerric’s fingers.
*in the voice of Baurus as he wrongly guesses your character class* I never would have guessed.

Ulfe was much fun in the bathhouse, as dogs always are whenever water is involved.

Sad news about the Odills. I guess the goblins finally got them after all.

So it is almost Valentine's Heart's Day? Good timing for Jerric. Let's hope he does not forget it again.

Hmm, the plot thickens with the Odill's. That does not sound like goblins after all. Me wonders if they were murdered for knowing something about Nirnroot?

Her eyes traveled over him like she was considering a purchase.
I love this line.

Now I am wondering if there are too many fingers in the mountain?

[mALX]

*

This was a delightful surprise! Jerric's mind seemed to be wavering between "can't wait to see Abiene" and almost wanting to push to an end of their relationship! What is going on with him?

I'm kind of relieved, mainly because she may have been the one Darnand was holding himself out for - don't want that to be a secret that has to be kept from Jerric, you know?

Hastus had me in hysterics! Jerric seems to attract a LOT of company when he bathes, I'll never forget his bath in the Anvil Mages Guild that was attended by every single member of the guild there, ROFL !!!

Then he had a thought. Was Emfrid flirting with him? His stomach growled before he could decide.

SPEW !!! You owe me a monitor now, hot coffee sprayed everywhere !!

An elegantly dressed Altmer woman descended the stairs while Jerric was stuffing his mouth with the last of the loaf. She scanned the room before she came to sit beside Jerric.

Earana !!! I knew it had to be her, ROFL !!!

Oh boy, now how will Jerric juggle Emfrid and Earana both seeking his attention? ROFL !! Although Earana in the throws of passion with Jerric is probably not what she has in mind (and boggles my mind trying to picture it, ROFL !!)

Absolutely LOVED this wonderful surprise, AWESOME WRITE !!!!


*

[Acadian]

A fun dinner function at the Chorrol guild hall. You really brought some sparkle to the place and it was nice to see Darnand liven up to be in his 'natural habitat'.

’As he turned into the alley behind the Oak and Crosier he scanned the street once more for Abiene’s trim form. He imagined the way she strode along with purpose, wayward curls floating around her head. Then he pictured her strolling at leisure in that white summer dress, a smile in her eyes and sunlight on her shoulders. That led to another lap around Fountain Gate to get his body back under control.’
What a lovely reminder of Abiene!

’Jerric had to laugh. “Yeah.” Only an Imperial could be this reckless with his mouth and still keep his teeth. He winced at the sour wine. “It’s hard work drinking this after Skingrad.”
Nice nod to the Imperials’ racial penchant for charm/speechcraft. Good job bringing Hastus to life so naturally.

“They were farmers.” Jerric gestured with his bottle. “What will you drink when there’s no new harvest?”
Jerric and his priorities. . . .

’The chapel bells tolled the quarter hour as Jerric walked into the Grey Mare. He had lost track of which hour, but it was late. Three young men sat at one table, a pitcher and mugs between them. The dark-haired one strummed listlessly on a lute, and his friends were quiet. Emfrid was working on one of the table tops with a brush and scrubbing sand. She straightened and wiped her hands. Jerric saw recognition dawn in her face.’
Another magnificently worded Grits scene-setting description. Elegant and efficient with a wonderful touch of whimsy!

’Jerric realized that he was meant to eat directly from the tureen. All of this was just for him. He gave Emfrid a look of pure adoration.’
Emfrid surely knows the way to Jerric’s heart. Thanks so much for feeding us in this episode. Yum!

’They drained their tankards. Jerric felt a colossal belch building. Thankfully Emfrid walked over to tend to her other customers before it escaped.’
That’s our Jerric. Smooth as an ogre’s rump.

What a shame about the Odiil’s.

Tantalizing appearance by Earana. . . .

This post has been edited by Acadian: Jul 4 2012, 12:28 AM

[King Coin]

Sounds like Darnand was greeted warmly by the guild. I was a little nervous for him. I like the explanation on why Darnand keeps the money too. Jerric trying to think of a way to visit Abiene!

Ulfe was adorable with the towel! For a second I thought the attendant was coming around for something other than a chat. Sad news on the Odiils. Emfrid must really like Jerric! And Ulfe is so well behaved compared to our dog. If you hand something to her, be ready to lose a knuckle, she’s so eager to gulp down whatever it is.

Earana. I suggest the Buffy route when dealing with her. Where’s Lildereth?

[ghastley]

Earana is normally looking for a Mage's guild member, rather than just a hired sword. That suggests she knows that Jerric is one, but I expect we'll find out about that soon. However, since his current cover story is mercenary guard, it's good reinforcement for that.

Of course Emfrid would understand a Nord's need to feed. Did the mention of Bitneld imply that you're tying in that piece of story too?

Ulfe's on form again. Too much to quote.

Jerric's imagining Abiene dressed? Are things fading?

[Grits]

SubRosa: Jerric is going to keep wondering about the Odiils, too. He pretty much figures it’s somehow his fault, even if it was goblins. I very nearly missed Heart’s Day myself, since I hadn’t updated my timeline in a while. Abiene would have been furious! Mountain fingers coming right up. Thank you, SubRosa!

mALX: Jerric is conflicted over Abiene. On the one hand, he would marry her in a minute. On the other, he’s terrified that the Mythic Dawn will drag her off and torture her to death (like Piner) in case she knows something, so he thinks he should avoid her. But we know he tends to vote with his middle member. I was rolling trying to NOT picture the Jerric/Emfrid/Earana situation. You got me back for the coffee spew! Thank you so much, mALX!

Acadian: I made chili with corn and beans after that episode. Emfrid’s pumpkin stew made me do it! I made the mistake of skimming over Jerric’s first visit to Chorrol, so I hope to give the place a little more flavor this time through. His whole world turned upside down since then, so he kind of has new eyes on everything. I’m glad you mentioned Darnand, it is always a challenge to show what’s going on with him. Thank you so much, Acadian!

King Coin: We looked after my mother-in law’s dog for a few years. He was very loveable, but also a little over-eager with the treats. We would toss his far away from us, then our sweet dog would gently take his from our fingers while the wild one was tearing a hole in the floor picking his up. Our boy was so happy when his brother went back home! (They were from the same litter.) Thank you for your kind thoughts about Darnand. And funny you should mention Lildereth…

ghastley: I’m sure he runs his mind over every inch of her on a regular basis. Those scenes can be summarized with “Jerric returned, fastening his buckles.” I’ve taken some small liberties with this quest, hopefully it will still make sense. I thought about using an angle where Earana needed a mage who would accept the spell instead of payment, but in the end I decided she would just hire a fighter to reduce the risk of a double-cross at first. Then once she had the book, she might lure a guild member into escorting her up there so that she could gain the spell, plus getting one of Teekeeus’ mages on her side would rub his nose in it. Jerric’s had two hints from Emfrid about Bittneld now. I hope I can work a matchmaking attempt into this visit. It went so well when he tried to hook Eronor up with Lildereth. Thank you, ghastley!

Where we are: In Chorrol. Jerric has taken a room at the Grey Mare, and Darnand is staying at the guild hall. Last night Jerric met an Altmer named Earana.




Chapter 15: Chorrol, Part Seven


Jerric breezed into the Mages Guild reception chamber with a pack over his shoulder and a grin on his face. A long run before sunrise had put him in good spirits. For all the talk of thin mountain air, he was managing. Emfrid’s serene company had more than compensated for Earana’s sour presence at breakfast. Best of all, a note had arrived while he lingered over kahve, waiting for the time when Rasheda’s shop would open. He already knew its contents by heart.

Sun’s Dawn 15, 434

My love,

At dawn I rushed outdoors in case the wind might bring the slightest hint of you. I burn knowing that we are within the same city walls and yet apart. My time is not my own.

Seed-Neeus has a guest house behind her shop. I hope with all of my heart that I will see you there tomorrow night.

I am yours.

Abiene

He was fairly certain she was not suggesting that his odor might carry across town, but he had returned to the washbasin for another scrub just the same.

The scene in the guild hall was a near reenactment of the one from last night. The Chorrol mages had gathered again in animated conversation with visitors, junior members, and one another. Kahve mugs replaced the goblets of wine. Jerric knew that these men produced important work for the guild, he just hadn’t witnessed it yet. Today Teekeeus stood chatting with another Argonian. The two had almost identical head spines and facial markings. Jerric wondered if they shared some kinship. Not knowing how to ask made him feel awkward. He nodded his greetings and made his way up the stairs.

The Chorrol guild hall’s large library was surely one of Cyrodiil’s most pleasant chambers. A low ceiling made the room warm and inviting, even though the space was heated by only a single fireplace. Diamond-paned windows were spaced at regular intervals around the walls, and the open staircase to the third floor living quarters featured a broad landing and window wall. Candelabras, chandeliers, and the yellow stained glass window provided ample light of the sort that eased the eyes when reading. Every inch of wall space between the windows held book cases from floor to ceiling. There was plenty of space around the center table, so quiet conversations held there would not carry to the room’s other occupants. Three of the corner alcoves contained their own work tables and comfortable seating. Thick rugs in a masculine style helped define each area. The fourth corner housed a small chamber well stocked with snacks and beverages. Jerric let out a contented sigh.

Morning sun flooded in through the round window, marking its pattern in colored light across the floorboards. Darnand sat at a table in the corner between the fireplace and the staircase. His eyes were fixed on the floor, but his mind was obviously elsewhere. He looked up in surprise when Jerric seated himself.

“Good morning.” Jerric gave him a friendly punch on the shoulder.

Darnand must share his good mood, because he didn’t object. “Indeed. Where is Ulfe?”

“Out back playing with a couple of Khajiit kits. And their nan. Grandfa is at the healing hall over at the chapel. They saw me setting our tent up to dry and wandered over.”

Darnand leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. “Did you learn their entire history, or just the circumstances of the elder’s health complaints?”

“She gave me an earful, that’s for sure. I mean, I like to talk to folk, but there’s a limit. I don’t know how Abiene does it.”

Darnand tapped a slip of folded parchment. “I have received a note from Abiene. She will be working through tonight, but I am to call at the chapel tomorrow.”

Jerric felt an irrational surge of jealousy. “That’s, uh, great. I guess I’ll, you know, see her some other time.”

“Tomorrow is Heart’s Day,” said Darnand. He looked troubled.

Jerric’s mind balked at the connection. “Don’t worry, you don’t have to get me anything.” He rose abruptly and headed for the food cupboards. “Do you want a drink?” Is Abiene the one?

“No, thank you. The common quarters are largely empty. If the Mare becomes overcrowded with hopeful Polydors and Eloisas tomorrow night, there is plenty of room here.”

Jerric returned with an apple. His thoughts were not entirely eased. “Emfrid says I’ll still have the room. I guess folk will go anywhere for tradition, but the Mare isn’t much of a romantic hideaway.” I’ll be with Abiene tomorrow night, he thought. I’ll be with Abiene. He tried not to fidget under Darnand’s attention.

“Did you meet with Rasheda as you planned?” Darnand asked.

“Yeah.” He pulled his new steel-plated gauntlets out of the pack. “Take a look at these. I need you to go pay for them, the Blades—” Jerric looked around guiltily and lowered his voice. “The Blades order didn’t cover boots, helm, or gauntlets. I left my lucky boots there so Rasheda could fit plates to them. I mean, my speed boots. The arming points are already there from… before, but the plates were… well, they were on the wagon back to Kvatch. Anyway, I sure as hells wish I had my Helm of the Nord back.”

Darnand looked up from his examination. “There is an enchantment to fortify your strength, but I struggle to read the rest.”

“It has to do with menders’ magic. Rasheda trained me some more, but I still can’t use menders’ hammers on enchanted gear. If I wear those gauntlets, I can. She calls them Rasheda’s Special Gauntlets. Let’s enchant my katana.”

Excitement sprang up in Darnand’s eyes. He rose from his seat a little, then sat back down.

Jerric laughed. “You can do it whenever you like. With that sigil stone we got last month. I trust you.”

“We should discuss enchanting your new armor, now that you have means to repair it.”

“Yeah. There are a lot of things in the Deadlands that I can kill, but I need to be stronger, faster, and better protected if I want to keep making it back here. Undetected when I come across a fight I can’t win. Think on that, because even with my Arcane Well I’ve got no idea. It seems like I need two different things.”

Darnand nodded, already thinking. “I will give you the hood I enchanted for myself to use until you find another helm.”

Jerric’s eyebrows went up. “That’s generous. Course it will let folks know I’m a mage.”

“Indeed, and you will not benefit from a hood over a helm with your stunted magicka.”

“What’s the enchantment?”

“It combines magical resistance with shield magic.”

“That’s good,” Jerric said. “I would have guessed you’d fortify your magicka.”

Darnand looked abashed. “That was my intention. Lildereth convinced me to make a more defensive choice.”

“More balanced is how I guess she’d put it.”

They shared a look. “Those were her very words,” said Darnand.

Teekeeus entered the library and walked directly to their table. “I have a free moment, Associate,” he said to Jerric.

Jerric stood up. “Oh, uh, right. I’d like to…”

Teekeeus sat down. So did Jerric.

“I’d like to earn a recommendation from you. To the Arcane University.”

“Ah, yes. Though you are known to me, I’m afraid I can’t just write one out of hand. That would be against protocols, you see. If perhaps you can clear up a small matter involving a hostile mage, you can prove your loyalty to the guild and earn my recommendation.”

“Sure. What do I need to do?”

“There is an Altmeri female in town. Perhaps you have seen her loitering in Great Oak Place. Her name is Earana. She is a mage, but not a guild member. Though she has not approached me, I know she is here for something. I would like you to find out what it is. Determine what she’s after, and how we may be rid of her. I do not want her here, spreading her lies.”

Jerric couldn’t believe it. “She tried to hire me last night. She wants someone to go search a mountaintop for her.”

Teekeeus let out an agitated hiss. “Cloud Top?”

“She didn’t say.”

His claws made a small sound digging into the table. “It must be! She has found it! Earana seeks power that she has not earned. She has no respect for the Arcane Arts. She would accuse me of misusing my influence, but it is she who—” Teekeeus stilled his agitated fingers. Jerric could smell his musk.

“I could go back and let her hire me,” Jerric said. “Then she’d have to tell me what this is about.” The thought of deception made his stomach ache. “Although I guess she saw me come in here a little while ago.”

Teekeeus’ eyes narrowed. “That might work in our favor. Earana and I were once associates. Though I am certain that she is in Chorrol as a result of our proximity to Cloud Top, she cannot resist the opportunity to annoy me and harass guild mages.”

Jerric rubbed a hand over his face. “I’m really not very good at tricking people. Maybe I should just go up there and look around. I can tell you what I find.” The problem that was bothering him became clear in his mind. “Why do you think she wants to hire someone? Why doesn’t she just go up there herself?”

Teekeeus appeared to be lost in thought. Darnand glanced at his chapter head before he answered. “Why do folk travel in caravans, Jerric?”

“Well, the road can be dangerous. Highwaymen, wild animals, hostile creatures, goblins, daedra, not to mention bad weather and… Oh.”

“Indeed. The hills around Cloud Top are infested with imps. You will enjoy their company, of course. An Altmer would be more vulnerable to their attacks, as would someone like me, born under the Apprentice. The road is steep and often icy. The imps simply fly over the rocks. One cannot dodge their spells or flee from a swarm of them, as one might down here on the plains.”

“There is a possibility of landslides,” added Teekeeus.

Jerric realized that those were the same reasons that the Argonian was reluctant to go look for himself. “Can you show me on your map?” he asked Darnand. “How long do you think it will take?”

“Less than a day in good weather. Shall I accompany you? We could ride most of the way.”

Jerric shook his head. “No, and I’ll leave Ulfe. I’ll bring a bedroll just in case. I could stand to stretch my legs a little.”

Darnand caught Jerric’s eyes with his own. “You will wear your new armor.”

He knows I’ll be looking for Gates, Jerric realized. “Yeah.”

Teekeeus spoke. “There is a pillar in the ruin that has been transported there from another site. I suggest you begin your search in that area.” He moved toward the stairs to the living quarters. “I will await your report.”

Jerric leaned in toward Darnand. “Why didn’t he just talk to her himself? What do you know about this woman?”

“He does not trust himself,” said Darnand. “Appearances and protocol are important to Teekeeus. He does not want to find himself shouting at her in the street, or worse.”

“Do you know what happened between them?”

“I listened to the gossip last night. They were colleagues at the Arcane University, studying some sort of Ayleid weather magic. They had a difference of opinion. Teekeeus confessed their misdeeds to the Council of Mages, and she was expelled from the guild. However, she still had influential friends there. They pressured the Council to remove Teekeeus from his position for his part in their work. All of this happened some time ago. When I met him, he was already chapter head here in Chorrol.”

Jerric considered. “I guess that’s worse than just hitting him with some pain. What do you suppose I’m looking for?”

“I should think a person engaged in some activity, perhaps in possession of a specific item or papers. Teekeeus had some notes stolen from here in the guild hall some time ago. That is why there is an additional lock on his door. Perhaps Earana has been working with another mage, and they stole the notes.”

Jerric gave him the Lildereth-style eyebrow, or at least his best rendition.

Darnand shrugged. “It reflects poorly upon my character, but that is what I might do.”

That sat quietly with their thoughts for a moment. Jerric remembered the promise he had made the night before. He stuck the apple into his pack. “Say, have you had breakfast?”




.

This post has been edited by Grits: Jul 16 2012, 04:35 PM

[TrisRed]

Grr! It appears Jerric will have to cross paths with Earana again. Although he might not have a problem with this, I detest the woman! Haha

Although I enjoyed the small fact that Jerric had doubts about manipulating Earana for the sake of getting information for Teekneus. Very real and human. One of the many things I like about Jerric!

Can't wait to see what happens next

[ghastley]

He was fairly certain she was not suggesting that his odor might carry across town, but he had returned to the washbasin for another scrub just the same.
Not a cold shower ?

I'm not sure I'd like to have an Armorer skill boost on a piece of armor. Murphy's law dictates that it would be broken when you needed to use it (to help repair itself). Let's hope this little quest will let him level up and he can get some more training from Rasheda. On a related note, I don't like using Sigil Stones on weapons, because they limit you to a single enchantment, and to my mind, a weapon needs damage + soul trap, so that it supplies its own recharge. Hopefully that stone would provide something useful on a replacement helm.

Eager to see what path you take through the FotM quest.

[SubRosa]

From that letter, I see what has Jerric in a good mood! I hope he does not forget it will be Heart's Day soon!

Jerric knew that these men produced important work for the guild, he just hadn’t witnessed it yet.
Reminds me of where I work...

She will be working through tonight, but I am to call at the chapel tomorrow
Too bad about that...

“I have a free moment, Associate,” he said to Jerric.
Well isn't that nice. Good for you boatmaster.

That would be against protocols, you see.
Because the protocols are to make the player character do some absolute b.s. fetch and carry grunt work that has nothing to do with magical study or research, and is really about being an unpaid mercenary for the chapter head. Sorry, do I sound jaded?

“Why do folk travel in caravans, Jerric?”
Unlike the game, you do give us a reason for why Earana does not just walk up to Cloud Top and get the useless book herself. That was good work.

I wonder when Jerric is planning on leaving on his expedition? Hearts Day would be my guess. Since he is meeting Abiene in the evening, that should work out. Of course then he needs to get a HD gift quick!

An interesting twist with Earana perhaps trying to get a mage to steal Teekeus' notes. That makes it more interesting. I also like that Jerric balked from the game's set course of double-crossing Earana. In the game I always thought Teekeus was much more despicable than Earana. Despite her haughty attitude (she is an Altmer after all), Earana plays straight with you. Teekeus OTOH demands that you double-cross her, and depending on how it plays out, rob her. Plus he blackmails you with your University recommendation to get you to do it. Talk about a slime-ball.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Jul 16 2012, 09:57 PM

[Acadian]

A beautiful note from Abiene!

I loved your description of the guild’s library – I could picture the one in the game, only yours is better.

So Darnand got a note from Abiene too. . . . I really enjoyed Jerric’s talking with Darnand while his internal thoughts contained hopes and some doubts about Abiene.

“Indeed. The hills around Cloud Top are infested with imps. You will enjoy their company, of course. An Altmer would be more vulnerable to their attacks, as would someone like me, born under the Apprentice. The road is steep and often icy. The imps simply fly over the rocks. One cannot dodge their spells or flee from a swarm of them, as one might down here on the plains.”
This is very neat! It reminds us of Jerric’s Atronach birthsign as well as the vulnerabilities inherent to the Apprentice sign or Altmeri race. It also, as SubRosa mentioned, explains why the task is not suited to parchment princes.

I’m looking forward to your treatment of the quest. I actually have no problem with Teekeeus; he does indeed give the prospective University student a chance to clearly prove their loyalty to the guild.

“Say, have you had breakfast?”
This is what Jerric says when he’s been forced to think too much. In this case about Abiene, Earana, enchanted armor and imp chips.

Wonderful episode, Grits!