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

[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!

[mALX]

WOO HOO !!! What an Awesome surprise this was !!!

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.

SPEW !!! ROFL !!!

He rose abruptly and headed for the food cupboards. “Do you want a drink?” Is Abiene the one?

That's exactly what I've been wondering. Jerric is so torn, the jealousy and the best friend. He'll have to give one up if Abiene is the one Darnand was holding himself for. (Either be happy for his friend and give up the jealousy or lose Darnand's friendship if his jealousy rages - and maybe Abiene's too). She still has that problem of not wanting to be seen publically with Nords, ashamed of her draw to them. (or what she perceives her family will think of them).

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

Jerric really gets to know people on a deeper level, proven by this knowledge of Lildereth.

LOVED seeing Jerric up on the boards again, Awesome Write !!!!

[King Coin]

I was grinning after reading the note, and then even more at Jerric’s return to the washbasin. I am looking forward to seeing Abiene again, even though I’m fairly certain that Darnand’s going to soon learn of their relationship.

I know which corner of the library Jerric will be most fond of. I wonder what Darnand’s reaction to that library was? Maybe access to that other one might have dulled some of the delight, but he didn’t have to pay in his life energy either. The library makes the Chorrol hall my favorite.

Where is Ulfe?”

“Out back playing with a couple of Khajiit kits.
How adorable!

“Do you want a drink?” Is Abiene the one?
Interesting. I didn’t anticipate Jerric being the first to figure it out, but then again, he’s the people person of the group.

Darnand read Jerric’s mind about the gates.

[McBadgere]

Blimey!!...Another love triangle?... ...

So...Are either of them going to make their minds (or whichever part required ) up?..

Loved both chapters...

Chorrol is pretty much my fave city...And you really are painting the place beautifully...

Emfrid is lovely in the game so it's cool to see her here...

Loving the mages guild place and Teekeus...Brilliant stuff...

Love every word of it... ...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

[Grits]

Rihanae: Thank you, Rihanae! You’re right, he’s eventually going to have to deal with Earana again. I’m happy to change the details, but I didn’t want to leave Earana completely out of the second part of this quest.

ghastley: Oh dear, I never thought of trying to repair broken gauntlets with broken gauntlets. In his game Jerric has used the unbreakable hammer for ages. He and Darnand are short soul gems and not guaranteed an opportunity to enchant anything, so the sigil stones are their best shot at a strong enchantment. Including Soul Trap would be far better, though. This quest has been much more fun to write than it was to play. Thank you, ghastley!

SubRosa: That’s the one thing I like about Earana, although taken as a whole I dislike her. She is up front about everything that she wants you to do (even about stealing the book back from Teekeeus), and she keeps her end of the deal if you help her. And if you don’t, she screams in your face in front of the whole town. Plus she’s well known as a trouble maker, which makes me think that she stirs the pot right out in the open. You’re right about Jerric’s schedule, he’s headed up hill in the morning. Thank you, SubRosa!

Acadian: You are exactly right about Jerric’s response to mental overload, if he can’t drop his trousers or punch something, he heads to the bar/kitchen. I’m glad you liked Abiene’s note. She has worked her way into five of this chapter’s episodes, starting with this one. The quest will come back through several updates as well. It’s been fun to play with since Darnand is connected to Chorrol, and Jerric is not having a single player experience. Thank you, Acadian!

mALX: Yep, you saw this conflict coming ages ago, and even though Jerric slammed the lid on it for now, the seed has been planted. You’re right, he’s going to struggle with his loyalties if he doesn’t manage to keep ignoring or denying it. And you know he’s too intuitive to miss the next hint. Thank you, mALX!

King Coin: I’m sure you can tell how much I like that library. Darnand has probably read every book in there, but that’s one of the few places that gives him a feeling of home. I thought you’d like those Khajiit kits. I think Khajiit and wood elf youngsters would be unbelievably cute. Thank you, KC!

McBadgere: You’re back, yay! I’m glad you’re enjoying Chorrol. There’s a little more sight-seeing next. I think Argonian communication could be interesting, with lots of clicks and hisses that could color meaning, possibly a scent language, plus the whole Hist thing. Teekeeus gave them a nose full of “I’m upset.” Thank you, McB!

Where we are: Chorrol. Jerric has been tasked with searching Cloud Top for evidence of something. Darnand got a note from Abiene asking him to visit her today. Jerric got a note from Abiene asking him to meet her at the guest cottage tonight. This one ran a touch long. I blame Abiene.




Chapter 15: Chorrol, Part Eight


Darnand stepped out of Renoit’s Books and turned toward the chapel. The day’s shopping had gone well, for the most part. His negotiation with Rasheda had left them both outraged, a sure sign of a well-struck bargain. He had purchased a sturdy, even tempered gelding, well-suited to their needs and unremarkable in appearance. Their camp inventory had been pared down to essentials, easily carried by three horses with riders. He had even bolstered Jerric’s supply of undergarments, hoping that the Nord might someday decide to wear them.

His search for the Commentaries was the only disappointment. None of Chorrol’s book vendors had offered any leads.

A gust of wind cut through Darnand’s robe and sent hair flopping into his eyes again. One hand pushed it back nervously as the other renewed his warming spell. Vanity was the source of these troubles. This new robe looked well on him, but it was more suited for early autumn than cold spring. His winter cloak was finely made but too travel-worn to make a good appearance, and so he did without. Jerric was right to tease about this impractical haircut. At least he had not committed the foolishness of new shoes. His old ones had cleaned up nicely with a few hours’ effort, and this way he would not spend the afternoon hiding sore feet from a healer.

His steps quickened when he saw her. Standing on the chapel stairs in conversation with a Chorrol Guardsman. She touched the man’s arm in farewell and skipped down to meet him.

“Darnand!” she cried.

“Abiene.” Everything in his heart was there in her name. He couldn’t breathe for a moment.

Then she bounced up and kissed his cheek, laughing. “I’m so pleased to see you!”

She wore her brown cloak, but her hands were freezing. He tucked one through his arm and warmed it with his. “You’re not using your spell against the cold.”

“I need all of my magicka for treatments,” Abiene sighed. “I use so many potions, I hardly want to eat any more. I’ll have rounds again when I return. I’m so glad you didn’t mind meeting me in the afternoon.” She squeezed his arm and smiled up at him. “Shall we walk? I miss our evening strolls, my friend.”

Darnand turned their steps toward Fountain Gate. He kept her arm in his and cast the frost resistance spell over both of them.

“Tell me of your studies,” said Darnand.

“I have much to learn from Master Selvilo, but there is often tension between us. Where I would hope for compassion over piety in a healer, he wishes the reverse of me.”

“Your field bridges faith, medicine, and magic. There will certainly be conflict between practitioners. Tell me, how did you proceed with the brain-injured man?”

A shadow fell over Abiene’s face. Now he saw how pale and drawn she looked. “I could not heal him. I tried, Darnand. Even after he was discharged from the healing hall, I met him in secret and still tried. There is so much I don’t know about what’s inside someone’s head. I found where connections had been severed, but I didn’t have the power to remake them. I shouldn’t have even tried. He stopped breathing once. I almost lost him, Darnand. It was terrifying!”

A Redguard couple smiled and greeted Abiene, but they didn’t stop to chat. Other folk on the street gave her the same treatment, Darnand noticed. She was familiar to many, but they all gave her privacy.

“Master Selvilo is not troubled by fear,” Abiene continued. “When someone dies on our table, he just goes on. It doesn’t touch him. He sees them as conditions, not beings. I just can’t do that. Carahil was right about me. I don’t know if I’m made for this work.”

“You will find your own way, I am certain. It is difficult to be patient with oneself.”

Abiene chewed on her lip for a few moments as they walked. Finally she spoke, barely above a whisper. “I think I should try… I believe it would help to… examine the dead. In an invasive manner. Particularly those who have died of head trauma.” Her troubled eyes found his. “Do you…?”

“I know the kind of examination you mean. Your caution is justified. An evaluation while the subject still lives would be more instructive, but of course I could not condone such a thing.” Abiene looked shocked, so he quickly continued. “As I told you before, I have found material in my studies that would be of interest to you. Not the rituals that reanimate a body, but the methods that necromancers use to repair their constructs. The transfer of energy is the same.” He had to squash the urge to blurt out the knowledge he had gained from Ilmerion. Another time, he told himself.

After another long moment, Abiene nodded her head. “Thank you, Darnand. I will borrow your materials. And I will be careful.”

Their path took them around the Healer’s Hand statue and up through the castle grounds. The reflecting pool still held patches of ice, scored by marks from ice skates. Darnand led them on the wandering trail through the boulders between the castle and Great Oak Place.

“My mother enjoyed walking here,” Darnand remarked before he could think what he was saying.

“Did you live nearby?” Abiene’s tone was gentle and warm again.

“Indeed. Penoit Hall is on Great Oak Place. For years I lived at the guild hall right beneath my brother’s windows. I taught myself not to see him.”

Abiene pressed his arm between her hands. As much as Darnand appreciated her joyful energy, it was her quiet way of soothing that caught at the heart. Somehow she just knew.

They stopped and sat with their shoulders touching on the sunny side of the Great Oak. Darnand recounted tales of their journey from Anvil. Abiene laughed at all of the right moments. For a time they shared a companionable silence, simply watching folk pass by. Darnand shied away from sharing more personal thoughts, as it left him feeling exposed and uncomfortable. The chapel bells rang. It was time for him to summon the nerve and speak up.

Abiene gave herself a tiny shake and spoke first. “Tell me some more of our friends. How is dear Lildereth?”

Darnand found he couldn’t swallow, much less speak. Only Abiene could call the elf “dear,” but that would sound rude even if he hadn’t recently coupled with her. He glanced down the street, desperate for distraction. A tall figure strode toward them, steps light despite his packs and weapons. The man’s hair stood up as if caught by a windstorm.

“Jerric,” he said with a rush of relief. His friend’s face lit up when he saw them. After a quick grin at Darnand, Jerric’s eyes stayed locked on Abiene.

They stood as Jerric reached them. When he held his hands out, Abiene stepped into his embrace. Darnand heard Jerric’s rumble and Abiene’s soft reply. He noticed his hood buttoned at Jerric’s throat but pushed down his back.

“Have you been ill?” Jerric asked her.

Abiene pressed her palms against his breastplate. “That’s a nice way to greet a friend.”

Jerric leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. “I’m sorry. Abiene, it’s good to see you. How was that?”

“Better,” she smiled. “New armor? You looked tired, Jerric. How are you resting?”

Jerric and Darnand exchanged a look, and Abiene laughed. “I can’t help myself,” she admitted.

“I’m on my way to the guild hall. Thought I’d drop off my gear and maybe throw a stick for the dog. Have you two eaten? You both could stand a meal, I’d wager.” Jerric gave him a significant look over Abiene’s head.

He found something at Cloud Top, Darnand realized. “Perhaps—”

“Not at the guild hall,” said Abiene. “No, thank you.”

Jerric gave one of his quick nods. “I’ll catch up with you later, Darnand. Abiene, it’s good to see you. Breton, take this lady somewhere nice. After all, it’s Heart’s Day.” The Nord hoisted his pack over a shoulder, shifting his weight in the way that signaled an impending dash into the bushes. Darnand supposed that the wearing of heavy armor required a certain mastery of the bowels.

He would have liked a little time to prepare himself, but Darnand had a suggestion ready. “I know a quiet place where they serve the cuisine of Evermore,” he said to Abiene. “It is in West Chorrol. Will you accompany me? I would like to dine with you. Perhaps they have made some pinwheel cakes.”

Abiene’s sweet smile told him she remembered. “I would be honored.” She took his arm and looked up at Jerric. “I’ll see you soon, my friend.”

Jerric sent Darnand another meaningful look as he turned away. I shall have to ask him to explain later, Darnand thought. There is only so much I can read in a tilted head and wrinkled brows.

The House of Fournier was a single-family dwelling west of the chapel. Mister and Mistress Fournier had been serving meals on the ground level as long as Darnand could remember. It was the one restaurant in Chorrol where he could be sure to get a table on Heart’s Day. Mistress Fournier had been a friend of his mother’s.

The menu was written on a slate propped outside the door. Everyone received the same meal, cooked at the back of the house and served by the family’s own hands. They paired excellent wine with every course. In a small way it felt like an echo of home.

Mistress Fournier greeted them with unrestrained cheer. “Darnand! What a surprise! And who is your guest?” She turned her head and called toward the back of the house. “Thierre! Come and see, Darnand has returned!”

Darnand could remember every hateful word he had hurled at these generous people. Their forgiveness did not allow him to pardon himself, but overcoming his awkwardness was its own penance. He and Abiene were soon ensconced at a round table in front of the fire.

“To awaken the palate,” announced Mister Fournier. He slid a small plate between them while his wife poured sparkling wine. Each tiny cracker featured a different smear of paste, an herb leaf, and an additional small something. One held a trio of fish eggs, another a single bean. Abiene clasped her hands in delight.

Darnand relaxed. Everything would be perfect.

The meal seemed to pass quickly, though the many small courses were paced for leisurely appreciation. Abiene savored her food and wine with a Dibellan’s grace. Darnand found his concerns melting to the back of his mind as he simply enjoyed her company. He was surprised when he discovered their plates had been cleared away. He realized it was time.

Darnand slipped a hand into his robe pocket. He had spent hours searching Anvil’s clothiers, jewelers, and general merchants until he had considered every bracelet that was for sale in the city. He possessed an eye for quality, but no knowledge of fashion. In the end he had chosen a piece that simply looked like Abiene. A slender crescent of tiger whelk shell that should fit as snugly as a cuff against her wrist. The only pattern was the shell’s own subtle variations in color and translucence. Now that the moment had arrived, his confidence deserted him.

He passed the package across. “For your birthday.”

Abiene’s face lit with pure delight, even before she opened the wrapper. “Oh, thank you!” She held her arm out for him to see. “Darnand, it’s perfect! It will complement everything I wear. What’s the enchantment?”

“It is a spell I wrote for you. Similar to Sea Strider, but… Give me your hands, I will show you.”

Abiene learned the spell all too quickly. “It’s a rain bracelet! You remembered how I admired Carahil’s.” She tilted her head to the side as he let go. “You made this spell? At the Praxographical Center?”

“No, in a… private facility. With Lildereth’s help I gained access to the Chironasium, but I should not like to attempt that deception a second time.”

“You enchanted it yourself, too? Darnand, thank you.” She ran her fingers across the bracelet. “I suppose I shouldn’t ask you any more questions, Associate.”

Darnand felt himself flush. His urgent conjugation with Lildereth had given rise to a host of specific thoughts about Abiene. It was hard to focus on Abiene’s admirable character when her lips curled into that teasing smile.

“I have a new spell to show you, as well,” she told him. “Though I did not create it. Here.” She dipped a fingertip into her wine and drew a line across his palm. The sensation shot straight through him. Abiene licked her finger and then held her hand out flat, facing down at the table. Pale blue light glowed under it. “This is the spell we use to debride wounds. It eliminates everything that is not the patient’s living tissue. That includes fingernails and the occasional tooth, so hold still.”

When she passed the light over his palm, the droplets simply disappeared.

“Destruction?” he guessed, shifting in his seat.

“They said Alteration. I suppose it changes everything into air. It’s not a strong spell for safety reasons, so glass shards and splinters take some effort to remove.” She ran her thumb along the base of his fingers. “How did you get these calluses? Do you want me to dissolve them?”

“No, thank you. I should not like to experience the blisters again.” Darnand gently withdrew his hand. “I have been sparring with Jerric. He is teaching me to block with my walking stick. I hold out the hope of someday landing a blow, should he ever be sufficiently distracted.”

Mistress Fournier approached, to Darnand’s regret. He hoped he would not need to stand for at least a few more minutes.

“May I bring your desserts?” she asked.

“Oh, yes!” said Abiene.

Pinwheel cakes were not among the offerings, but Abiene did not seem disappointed. She laughed and teased through the rest of the meal, dividing even the smallest meringue so they could each have a taste. The sweets brought nostalgia, and Abiene shared her memories of home. Darnand’s mind strayed to Saturalia. His arms ached to hold her again.

Too soon they were standing in the crisp moonlight. Abiene tugged her hood around her face. As ever, her smile was framed by unruly curls.

I could procure a room for us, Darnand thought. This day is for lovers, no inn would turn us away.

He cleared his throat. “Perhaps we should return to the chapel. You might rest before your next shift. May I walk with you?”




.

This post has been edited by Grits: Jul 24 2012, 12:31 PM

[mALX]

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Darnand never ceases to surprise with his depths. He is seemingly the same, but the changes in him this past year are seeming so subtly wrought that it is hard to tell if they really are changes or strengths he's always had that we just didn't notice until time passed and we came to know him. (as much as Darnand lets anyone know him, lol. His idea of spilling his guts ends up being under three words and is the equivalent of one of Jerric's grunts, ROFL !!)

I could envision Darnand with a bright red face (inadvertantly giving away their intimate secret) when Abiene asked about Lildereth, ROFL !!

Jerric's first words to Abiene being about a meal, ROFL !!! No wonder she is afraid to marry a Nord, who could afford to feed one? ROFL !!!

Jerric sent Darnand another meaningful look as he turned away. I shall have to ask him to explain later, Darnand thought. There is only so much I can read in a tilted head and wrinkled brows.

SPEW !!! Can't read what you don't want to, more like. Darnand is making his move and Jerric + saving Cyrodiil have to take a weak second place, ROFL !!!

Mistress Fournier approached, to Darnand’s regret. He hoped he would not need to stand for at least a few more minutes.

It appears Darnand is ready enough for making that move he is trying to accomplish, ROFL !!!

Uh oh, Darnand chickened out at the last minute. That gives Jerric a foot in the door to make this Heart’s Day special for Abiene - Dibella style. Urk, this is a cliffhanger for me !!!

Totally AWESOME WRITE !!!!!!


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