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

[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]

*

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 !!!!!!


*

[SubRosa]

His negotiation with Rasheda had left them both outraged, a sure sign of a well-struck bargain.
This gave me more than a faint smile.

I see Darnand has spiffed himself up for his meeting with the Abster. Troubador hair, fancy robe, shoes buffed up for hours. Every girl's crazy about a sharp dressed man. I suppose we will see about that though...

“Abiene.” Everything in his heart was there in her name. He couldn’t breathe for a moment.
Poor man, he still has it bad. Nothing hurts like unrequited love.

There is so much I don’t know about what’s inside someone’s head.
Wow, a woman who is honest! Sorry, in spite of the serious subject, that one line just leapt out at me.

I liked Abiene's description of her teacher, and how you have chosen to present him. Both he and Abiene represent different ends of the medical/healer spectrum. Those who want to help people with all of their hearts, and those who have hardened their hearts against feeling loss when the inevitable failure happens. Abiene has a difficult quandry. She feels too much for her patients, and if she continues on as she is, eventually she will burn out. Like she said, she might not be made for this after all. I can relate to how she feels. I love animals so much that I could never be a veterinarian. But I am so calloused toward people that I could be a doctor with no problem. I am even like that watching movies. I can see humans being killed left and right and not feel a thing. But kick one dog, and I am all in an emotional uproar.

And Jerric makes his cryptic appearance. I wonder if he was giving long meaningful glances to Darnand about Earana? She does like to haunt the Great Oak.

And Darnand knows a French restaurant! I hope there aren't any snails on Abiene's plate! What a wonderful bracelet! Plus and excellent enchantment. Now Abiene can walk between the raindrops. I felt so bad for him the entire time though. He is so head over heels for Abiene, and so utterly doomed. Whenever he finally works up the nerve to spill the beans, it is going to be ugly.

That is a very handy spell of Abiene's that removes foreign or dead tissue. One of the worst killers with bullet wounds is not the bullet itself, but the pieces of cloth that get pushed in the wound. Then they rot, and cause fatal infections. Where the bullet OTOH is sterilized from the heat of being fired from the gun.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Jul 24 2012, 03:12 AM

[ghastley]

His urgent conjugation with Lildereth had given rise to a host of specific thoughts about Abiene.

I was going to write something about putting the genie back in the bottle, but that seemed inappropriate as a metaphor.

[mALX]

His urgent conjugation with Lildereth had given rise to a host of specific thoughts about Abiene.

I was going to write something about putting the genie back in the bottle, but that seemed inappropriate as a metaphor.

Or right on the mark, as that is exactly what Darnand's mind is leading to. Unfortunately, he lacks the courage to leap on her like a hungry leopard and...er...dip his genie in her bottle.

[Acadian]

‘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.’
Another magnificently immersive Grits description that seems to flow so effortlessly from your quill.

‘Abiene’s sweet smile told him she remembered.’
This was perfect. There was a nagging familiarity about the pinwheels. When Abiene remembered, so did I – the ball at Castle Anvil with Darnand and splitting the sweets and dancing. . . .

What a neat reminder of Darnand’s interests and Abiene’s thirst for healing knowledge as the two discussed opening a dead skull up to see how the insides work.

I was impressed by Jerric’s restrained and rather gentlemanly behavior when the trio briefly crossed paths.

‘He hoped he would not need to stand for at least a few more minutes.’

‘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?”
By Dibella, there is quite a disconnect between Darnand’s thoughts and his words – how delightful that this was from his perspective so we could snoop on his thoughts!

As ever, you captured Darnand, Abiene and Jerric perfectly here.

[King Coin]

Sounds like they’ve been keeping Abiene busy with healing. Poor Darnand, he gets to take her for the evening stroll and Jerric gets to share her bed at night! Just as before, Abiene gets too wrapped up in her patients, sneaking out to heal a brain injury and almost killing the man! I can hardly fault her for such a quality though, taking a real interest in her practice and people. The people like and respect her for it.

Yikes! Darnand knows a lot about necromancy!

I wonder… if Abiene’s healing methods also allow her to read people. She seemed to do that quite well with Darnand. Maybe it was just familiarity though. Now that I think of it, I think it’s familiarity. If she could read people, then Darnand’s crush would never have been so.

Curse the lack of confidence! That was a Heart’s Day present, not a birthday present!

To the chapel? C’mon, you had the right idea with the inn before. Ah, too bad she has plans already anyways.

[Grits]

Here's a second update this week, I didn’t want to wait too long since the last section and the next two go so closely together. I’m sure this won’t become a habit! Also, I went back in the last part and edited Darnand’s thought to “He has found something at Cloud Top” to make it more clear what Jerric was contorting his face about. Just thought I’d mention it.

mALX: Thank you for your kind words about Darnand. I have been waiting so long for the chance to let him show what’s really on his mind. After all, the whole story opened with Darnand thinking about Abiene (and annoyed with Jerric ). You’re right, saving the world is going to have to wait until after Heart’s Day. That’s two more updates, so keep holding on to that cliff!! Thank you so much, mALX!

SubRosa: You are exactly right about Abiene’s dilemma. Carahil has been telling her for over a year, and now Abiene has finally admitted it to herself. Abiene’s journey deserves its own story, or so she keeps insisting. So it's good to know her parts are coming through when she gets her moments. I’m glad you liked the Debride spell. (It took me forever to work out the details.) The way healing works in Jerric’s world would result in a lot of abscesses and lingering infections if done improperly, so folk still need chapels and trained healers. Thank you, Subrosa!

ghastley: Thank you so much for that mental image! And you’re right, there’s no going back now.

Acadian: I have been waiting for a chance to give Darnand his own episode, since as you pointed out the disconnect between his thoughts and his words makes most of his mind a complete mystery to observers. Even when Jerric gets it right, he’s only catching part of the story. There will be another Darnand part in this chapter, since that’s the only way I know to get his thoughts across. He is not a big communicator. Whew, I really hoped that the pinwheel cakes would be a reminder of their warm friendship, so that the depth Darnand’s feeling wouldn’t seem like something new. Thank you so much, Acadian!

King Coin: Darnand is definitely getting a bad deal this Heart’s Day! While I was writing the next parts I kept thinking, unfair! Interesting that you brought up whether Abiene can read people. Jerric has his suspicions, since she’s very good at guessing. Plus she’s admitted that she connects on an emotional and spiritual level with her patients, which gives her more to work with. She’ll explain more about where she gets her abilities while the crew is in Chorrol, but as you determined, she’s not a mind reader. Although if she could peek into people’s thoughts, she totally would! For their own good, of course. Thank you, KC!

Where we are: Heart’s Day in Chorrol. Jerric has returned from his mountain mission and attempted to communicate through wiggling his eyebrows. Darnand has wined and dined Abiene, then dropped her off at the chapel door. Lildereth is in parts unknown.




Chapter 15: Chorrol, Part Nine


Jerric spent the hours before dinner cleaning and stowing his gear. For all the dangers Teekeeus and Earana must have feared, Jerric had only encountered winter-lean deer, one shy wolf, and a few frisky imps. He and the imps had traded frost and shock spells most of the way up one long set of steps, until the biggest one swooped close enough for Jerric to smack it with his shield. Then the imps developed a sudden interest in some unseen quarry, leaving him alone for the rest of the climb. During the whole day in the hills, Jerric hadn’t even once drawn a blade.

Thoughts of Darnand and Abiene wanted to creep into his mind, but he kept his attention on his hands. In time this new armor would become as familiar as his skin. He carefully examined every strap, buckle, and rivet after the day’s exercise. Rasheda’s work was without fault. She had put a matte finish on the dark metal and slightly mis-matched the pieces as if some plates had been replaced. Wearing it, Jerric had the look of a hard-working mercenary who had invested heavily in his shield and swords.

Jerric gave himself a sniff test after he hung his arming doublet and leggings to air. Good enough for dinner. He shrugged into a tunic and loose trousers. As he closed the cupboard, an unfamiliar parcel caught his eye. Darnand, he thought with a grin. Let’s see what he bought me.

Linen drawers, a pair of doeskin camp moccasins, and a tin of armpit powder. Jerric laughed. The Breton did manage to trip over Jerric’s boots at least once every night. He supposed the absence of a spare comb and breath freshener should be considered a compliment.

There was something under the stack of undergarments. Jerric laughed again. It was a wide-toothed comb.

Dinner was roast pork, sour cabbage, mashed potatoes, pickled beets and onions, and kale cooked with vinegar and red pepper flakes. Jerric hoped that spring vegetables would be in by the time they reached Cheydinhal. He wondered what Darnand and Abiene were having.

Earana was the subject on everyone else’s mind. “I passed her in the circle this afternoon,” said Angalmo. “You wouldn't believe the look she gave me!”

Alberic gestured with his fork. “Whatever her problem is, she's taking it out on the entire guild!”

Jerric waited for Teekeeus to speak up, but he kept his lips tight and his eyes narrow. The Argonian drank more than he ate. Jerric decided to speak with Earana the next time he saw her.

After dinner at the Chorrol hall meant brandy and pipes in the library, followed by cheese and fruit, then eventually kahve and sweets. Jerric took Ulfe for a walk around Great Oak Place instead. The hound loved to run after sticks, but her retrieving was not reliable. She often romped back full of pride and expectations, leaving her toy where it landed. Jerric would compensate by elaborately miming another throw. Sometimes Ulfe returned with a rock, a bone, or an entirely different stick.

The chapel bells rang nine of the evening watch. Jerric looked down the street toward Fountain Gate for the hundredth time. What was taking them so long? He planned to head to the bathhouse shortly after Darnand returned to the guild hall. That would give Abiene time to see to her patients and allow him to arrive at her doorstep in as fresh a condition as possible. Now he began to wonder if his friend was on some unspoken errand. He decided to go clean his teeth to kill some time.

Ulfe pranced over to Athragar as they passed through the library. She sat down in front of him as precisely as if posing for a statue. The Bosmer crooned to her as he carved off several Septim’s worth of finely veined blue cheese. Ulfe accepted his offering with the dignity of a queen. Then she swiped Athragar’s face with her tongue.

“Have you read the materials I gave you?” Athragar asked Jerric, drying off with a pocket square.

“Uh, no. Not all of them.” Athragar raised an admonitory finger. “I’ve memorized the incantations,” Jerric said quickly. “I chanted for hours in my head today. I don’t even hear the words any more, just like you said.”

“In that case, let us proceed as we planned. We will spend tomorrow preparing you for the ritual. Keep your fast on Morndas morning. Water and kahve are permitted, but not so much that you will need to relieve yourself once you are sealed in the summoning chamber.”

“Uh, yeah. All right.” Athragar was slicing another small fortune from the block of cheese. “Not too much of that,” Jerric told him, heading up to the guild hall’s austere bathing chamber. Ulfe ignored him. He suspected that so would Athragar.

Back on the ground level, Jerric met Darnand coming in the front door.

“What did you find at Cloud Top?” Darnand asked in greeting.

“A book, a Staff of Paralysis, some rolls of parchment, a couple of magicka potions, and one very dead fetcher. Burned up, but not by fire. Lightning, maybe. Fellow had a Welkynd stone on him. I found the rest in his pack. Hadn’t been there long. His pack still had two good apples.”

Darnand looked about to burst.

“Teekeeus has the lot,” Jerric continued. “I’m sorry, Darnand. He was on me like fleas on a troll the minute I walked through the door. Damned stupid, I should have waited for you before I came back here. How was your Breton dinner?”

“Did you happen to examine any of the materials? Did you read anything at all?”

“Yeah, but I’d need you to make sense of it. The notes I could read were all about atmospheric energy, and the rest were in Aldmeris. I couldn’t even open the book. Whatever he was doing up there, I don’t think he planned for it to take long. No camp supplies.”

Darnand crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you have a few moments?”

Jerric wanted to bolt out the door, but Darnand had something on his mind. “Yeah,” said Jerric. He gave Darnand his attention.

“Have you decided how we should enchant your armor?” Darnand asked. With a gesture he indicated that Jerric should precede him to the basement.

“Yeah,” said Jerric, heading down the stairs. “I want to make myself stronger, and increase my chance of absorbing spells. My boots make me faster, but I wouldn’t say no to another speed boost. Plus I need to get through some spots undetected, so that means being a better sneak.”

“We must choose carefully. I am a rank beginner in this art. I only know how to place a single enchantment on a piece of equipment.”

“What about Abiene’s ring? You put two on that.”

“I used a spell that has two effects. That is one enchantment.” He put out his hand to forestall Jerric’s complaints. “I suppose given enough time I might write another spell for you, but I do not think that you would want to wait.”

Jerric eyebrows went up. “Another spell?”

“Did I not mention it? Well, this is not the time. I suggest that we place an enchantment on your armor that is specific to your needs while you are wearing it. Perhaps one that will muffle the horrendous noise you make. Lildereth has taught me her spell. I am afraid there is not even a small chance that you will learn it. You might make potions to enhance your offensive skills and fortify your defense, but not to quiet your movements. As you have already concluded, there will be some conflicts that you would be well advised to avoid.”

Jerric thought about it.

“You should wear the Ring of Khajiiti in the Deadlands,” Darnand added. “It will further increase your speed, and its Chameleon effect is quite strong. You will not go unseen, but with caution you might go unnoticed.”

They had reached Darnand’s cupboard, next to Jerric’s. The Breton produced Jerric’s katana, offering it across his palms in the gesture that must be familiar even to mages.

Jerric slipped the blade halfway out of its sheath. Red magicka danced along it, backed by a shudder of darkness. “Blade of the Medic,” he murmured.

Darnand looked astonished. “That is what I would have named it!”

“Not Sword of the Healer?” Perhaps he would say something about Abiene.

“Stendarr, no. This weapon will suck the very life from your enemies, applying the energy indiscriminately through your body as would a mindless potion. Even the damage to your muscles and joints caused by your own strikes and shield work will be repaired by this blade. You will emerge from many battles renewed. Your healers will curse you for any badly mended wounds, but it is a comfort that you might be alive to hear them.”

Jerric put the blade away. “I guess that quieting enchantment bears some thought. I know what the elf would say.” He leaned against the cupboard. “How’s our supply of magicka gems? Do you think you can get an altar here to work?”

“I have acquired an empty gem from Contumeliorus. We will need as much power as possible for a stronger effect. I should think a bear, if you could find one.”

“I’ll ask Lildereth what she thinks, if she ever gets here. Maybe she’ll take me hunting.” Not for some sleeping bear, Jerric already knew. He was confident she would come up with an appropriate target.

“Lildereth does not know the Soul Trap spell,” Darnand pointed out. He looked uneasy.

“You mean you don’t want to go bear hunting? I have that dagger, remember? Your Soul Is Mine.”

Darnand’s face was a picture. Jerric guessed that poking a powerful creature with a short blade might seem like a bad idea to many.

Time was pressing on him. He grabbed the day pack out of his cupboard and made a move for the stairs. “You should head up to the library. They’re on their second pipe by now, I’d wager. And Athragar is trying to kill your dog with cheese.”

That got Darnand moving. Only a few things upset Ulfe’s digestion, and Jerric had just named one of them. He wondered if Darnand knew a spell to cure flatulence in a hound. He’d have to sleep with a window open if he didn’t.

Jone’s Shadow let Jerric run the distance to the bathhouse without attracting attention. Anticipation had tightened into tension. He kept it back by letting Abiene fill his mind, until every part of him ached for her. He remembered the look on her face when she first saw him. The way she listened so perfectly still, and how her laugh made his heart sing. He thought of her slender neck, and the fine line of tiny hairs down between her shoulders. That way she’d breathe as he entered her. The hundred different ways she smiled.

Clean enough, he decided. And no need to tie all of these laces.

Back on the street he kicked himself for not saving invisibility for the final stretch to the guest cottage. I shouldn’t meet her, he thought, taking the steps along the sidewalk two at a time. I’m putting her in danger. Like Piner. Maybe even the Odiils. Anxiety ate his belly and despair lapped at his heels. He looked over his shoulder to see if anyone was watching, then cursed himself for acting suspicious. Every shadow seemed to conceal a red-robed figure. They dress in regular clothes and summon their armor, he reminded himself. They could be anyone.

There was more to his disquiet, he finally admitted. Darnand’s words came back to him, unwelcome. “Tomorrow is Heart’s Day,” in that troubled tone. Was he really only thinking of overcrowded inns? He had enchanted a bracelet for Abiene’s birthday. Jewelry hinted at more than friends. Yet he hadn’t questioned that Jerric had gotten her a ring.

Jerric walked past the guest cottage and doubled back through the park after an Imperial gave him a sideways look. It took several moments without passing footsteps before he would move around to the front.

There was nothing he wouldn’t give Darnand. The thought of hurting him felt like a punch to the gut.

The cottage door was painted a cheery red, and the hardware was polished brass. He wondered how long it would hold if someone tried to break it down. I shouldn’t be here, Jerric thought. The most dangerous thing in Chorrol might be my feet on this porch. Even after he knocked, he tried to make himself walk away.

Then the door opened, and there was only Abiene.

[King Coin]

Don’t worry Jerric, Darnand’s making it easy to get your romp in tonight.

Darnand’s supplies for Jerric had me rolling! Glad they are looking out for each other! The Mages sure know how to spend an evening. I thought Jerric would join them for more eating, I suppose he’s got Abiene on his mind instead of his stomach. (what a shock!)

Aaand Jerric’s nightly activities with Abiene are going to be delayed by Darnand. A little revenge for him even if he doesn’t know it! The muffle spell! A little bit of Skyrim, and one of Aravi’s favorite spells. Nice enchantment on the katana, Aravi made an absorb life blade as well. I believe hers is called Retribution.

Now Jerric’s displaying some paranoia. And it occurs to him again that Darnand has feelings for the same woman. I have to say that I’m pleased he even thought of those things at least before he spent the night with Abiene.

[mALX]

*

Jerric has returned from his mountain mission and attempted to communicate through wiggling his eyebrows.

ROFL !!! Now I can laugh about that same scene for another week, between that and Ghastley's Genie in the Bottle I have not stopped laughing since the last chapter posted!

From the paragraph that began "Jone’s Shadow" to the end I found myself holding my own breath with Jerric's thoughts. That whole section was HUGE with tension and now another cliffhanger !!! ARGH !!! Awesome Write !!! Totally Awesome !!!


*

[SubRosa]

So Jerric's facial contortions were not due to something he ate after all! Just kidding. I figured it was about him fingering the mountain.

I wonder if Jerric's "good enough for dinner" sniff test equals "ewwww!" for the rest of us?

Ulfe and her errant fetching antics are much fun, as usual.

So Teekeus got the goods eh? I expected him to be all over Jerric like fleas on troll (excellent metaphor there). Now I wonder if the dynamic duo will steal it back from Teekeus so they can find out what is really in that book. I suppose they might even take it to Earana for translating, then swipe it back from her, and put it back in Teekeus' things when they are done. If they are quick enough, Teek won't even be the wiser.

The Blade of the Medic, I might have gone with The Vampires Kiss, but who am I to argue? Absorb Health is potent stuff. Especially at high levels of it. My Mazken Aerin enchanted her sword with a sigil stone Absorb Health of 25 points. She would fight Clannfears in melee and come out without a scratch.

Jerric's caution and self doubt is well deserved here, given that he is something of a marked man by the Mythic Dawn. But I doubt many people would let that stop them from making a rendezvous with that special someone. I would not. Then all that falls away, and there is only the Abster.

[Acadian]

'Dinner was roast pork, sour cabbage, mashed potatoes, pickled beets and onions, and kale cooked with vinegar and red pepper flakes.'
Thank you so much, Chef Grits, for feeding me! Yum!

The antics of the stick-chasing Ulfe are wonderful! She shares a similar trait with our skirt-chasing heroic Nord and, it seems, just as likely to fetch up the wrong one. And fun to see Athragar suffer the dignity of being tongued by a queen.

“I guess that quieting enchantment bears some thought. I know what the elf would say.”
So do I!

Sobering thoughts invade Jerric’s mind as he tries to sneak like a Khajiit to his rendezvous. MD sleepers, Darnand’s interest in Abiene, his own ache for her. . . . What a wonderful ending to this episode!

[McBadgere]

Fantastic!!...That'll teach me to wait and wind up distracted before can I get around to posting!!... ...

Aaaamywho...Loved both chapters...This trawl around Chorrol is definately one of my fave sections of the story so far...

Still think there may be trouble ahead for our chums...Jealousy and all that...

Amazing stuff...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*... ...

[haute ecole rider]

I'm going to mostly echo what everyone else has said about your posts since I've been absent.

But I have to point out the irony in this juxtaposition:

Darnand, he thought with a grin. Let’s see what he bought me.

Linen drawers, a pair of doeskin camp moccasins, and a tin of armpit powder. . . He supposed the absence of a spare comb and breath freshener should be considered a compliment.

Followed a short time later by:

Dinner was roast pork, sour cabbage, mashed potatoes, pickled beets and onions, and kale cooked with vinegar and red pepper flakes.

Umm, about that breath freshener?

[Grits]

King Coin: I’m glad you enjoyed Darnand’s supplies for Jerric. Close quarters with the Nord can be a trial for Darnand. That Muffle spell is one of my favorites, too. When I saw it in Skyrim, I immediately thought of Jerric with his heavy feet. Thank you, KC!

mALX: Thank you, mALX! I’ll be tense until I get this part posted. Abiene finally gets her say. Whew!

SubRosa: I’m sure Darnand’s introducing him to armpit powder is no accident. Blade of the Medic in the game has the same enchantment as Aerin’s. It’s awesome, but a real pain to keep charged. It costs him a fortune! Thank you, SubRosa!

Acadian: I’m glad you enjoyed the winter dinner. I had such a Breton feast planned for you in the last part, but that Darnand wouldn’t pay attention to the food! Argh! Thank you, Acadian!

McBadgere: Thank you, McBadgere! I think you may be right about the jealousy... Maybe they’ll get distracted by saving the world, or something. Now that they’re in Chorrol, I don’t want them to leave! Or maybe that’s Abiene taking over again…

haute ecole rider: The other end might need freshening after all of those pickles and cabbage. And tonight he won’t be able to blame it on the dog! It’s great to have you back, haute!


Where we are: Heart’s Day in Chorrol. Jerric questioned himself the whole way to the guest cottage. Abiene opened the door.




Chapter 15: Chorrol, Part Ten


Abiene stood in the doorway in a thin dressing robe, firelight casting a glow around her. Jerric stepped in and quickly closed the door. Then she was in his arms, and nothing else mattered.

When his senses were filled with her, she slipped away.

“It’s Heart’s Day and I didn’t get you anything,” Abiene said, blushing. “But there’s something I want to tell you.”

“Me too. Here. I, uh, well I forgot about Heart’s Day too. This was supposed to be one of your birthday presents.” Jerric handed the parcel over and tugged at her robe.

“Candied ginger!” Abiene kissed his throat before opening the jar. “I remember that day in the work room. You were so sweaty, and you tasted of ginger. You had been snacking on your alchemy ingredients!” She placed a piece on his tongue before taking one for herself, closing her eyes with enjoyment.

Jerric took the opportunity to shed his clothing. The cottage was a single room with only one door. All of the windows were covered. “Oh, yeah, I remember that. I was making Cure Disease potions. Gods, you were on fire. Then that Altmer walked in and nearly caught me up your skirt.” A few steps brought them to the bed. The quilts were already folded back. “I was thinking about Saturalia, though. The way you loved Bertille’s gingerbread guild hall. That must be how you looked when you were a little kid.”

“Mmm...” Abiene had a smile in her voice. Her skin was a dream. “Wait! First I want to look at you.” She yanked on his hair. “Come on, get back up.”

“Do we have to do this now? Can’t it wait, say, three minutes?”

Abiene laughed, but she didn’t relent. “Now,” she said, squirming and shoving. “Move.”

Jerric stood for inspection, hoping she would be quick. “There are some things you’re not going to like.” He glanced down. “Say, you should start on this side.”

Abiene was already running her hands over the scar across his back. “Who did this?” she demanded.

“Dremora.”

She made an exasperated sound. “I mean who healed it? This is a botched job, Jerric. It’s going to take a lot of work to correct.”

“I did. I was, uh, pressed for time.” He crawled back onto the bed. “Yes, it pains me; yes, I want you to fix it; not now, it can wait.” He decided to leave the nose reconstruction out of this discussion.

Abiene stood with fists on hips, wearing only a frown. Jerric sprawled suggestively and wiggled his eyebrows at her.

In an instant she was in his arms again, laughing. He thanked whatever daedra or Divine made this woman as changeable as the weather.

That was his last thought for some time. Eventually he realized he was gazing at the ceiling. Abiene rested at his side. He had to bend his neck to see it, but her face held a look that melted him. Like the bards say. My heart is a flame. He almost laughed.

But this kind of feeling leaves too big a hole behind. Jerric stroked a thumb over her cheek. She had to close those eyes so he could bear it.

He looked around and made himself notice the rest of the cottage’s furnishings. Low dressers, cupboards, bookcases, and luggage stands lined the walls. Tapestries and painted landscapes hung above them. One corner held a chamber stool, wash basin, and a short but deep sitting tub. A screen stood folded to the side. Two chairs were pulled up to the other fireplace with a low table between them. Another table stood under the draped windows, writing materials at the ready. The cottage was cozy, but fine. It would be easy to imagine Abiene here.

His sweat was almost dry on their skin. Abiene rolled away and stretched like a cat, taking time to savor the motion. He knew she would get up to use the wash basin next. Even watching her was a pleasure.

“Are you hungry?” Abiene asked. “I have some things for sandwiches. I brought ale and mead, too.” She walked to the sideboard and poured a goblet of wine.

“Maybe later.”

She soon rejoined him on the bed. Her eyes were thoughtful over the edge of the goblet. He waited while she gathered herself.

Abiene set down the wine. “Do you remember what you told me that night on the beach? I’ve had some time to think since I’ve been here alone. I’m tired of telling lies, and I’m through with all of the hiding. I want to be who I am, and… and never mind about those who don’t like it. Part of who I am is loving you. I know you said no promises, and I’m not asking for any. You make me better, Jerric. Stronger. I’ve been wrong to deny you. I want to look folk in the eye and have them know that I’m yours.”

Jerric didn’t know words foul enough to curse this situation. He kicked himself for not saying his piece before. “I can’t. I can’t be with you. Openly.”

Abiene sat bolt upright. “What?”

“For your safety! Gods, Abiene! I’m mixed up in things, and I can’t protect you. It’s already started. Folk are dying. Someday they’ll come for you if they learn about us.”

He could tell she believed him, but that wasn’t enough. “What about Darnand?” she demanded. “What about Lildereth? Everyone knows they stand by your side. Are you telling them they can’t be with you? I can protect myself better than you think!” She rose up on her knees, full of fight.

This isn’t one I can win, thought Jerric. He sat up on the bed. “Abiene, there’s no argument. I have to trust that you’ll be careful. Please don’t make this be the last time.”

For a moment he thought she was going to hit him, but then her fists turned into twisting fingers. Anger drained away into embarrassment. “I feel like such an idiot,” she groaned, slumping down onto her haunches. “All that time I was so worried, and now I thought we could finally—”

“Don’t.” Relief made him shaky, and guilt was a shadow at his back. He pulled her close to hide it. “We still have right now.”

“Stay the night,” she murmured. “The way I never would. Stay and hold me.”

He didn’t need words to answer.

___

Jerric woke in the night. Abiene shook his shoulder, frantic. A spell’s watery light surrounded them.

“What is it?” Jerric hissed, reaching for a blade.

“It’s you,” she cried. “It’s you. You’re so much worse. Stendarr’s mercy, Jerric, what’s happening?”

Jerric sank back into the pillows. His frost crackled away in a harmless mist. “I was dreaming,” he guessed. “I don’t remember it.”

“I tried to reach you. I know, I shouldn’t have, and I’m sorry. I think I made it worse. I’m so sorry!”

“I thought you said you can’t read a person’s thoughts.” He realized the sheets were damp with his sweat. His heart was still pounding.

“I can’t, and I wouldn’t intrude like that even if I could. I promise! But I can feel your guilt and sorrow, and your hope is so much stronger. But there’s that part of you I can’t touch. No, I won’t because I’m afraid. It would hurt me, like staring at the sun.”

Her words gave Jerric a cold feeling.

“I saw it when you came back to Anvil, and it’s still there,” she whispered. “What is it?”

Jerric rubbed his eyes. “Akatosh. In the chapel in Kvatch I asked for something, I didn’t even know what. Strength, or will. To keep fighting. I guess he gave it to me, because I’m still going.” Jerric squeezed Abiene’s hands. “That’s what I meant when I said I don’t belong to myself any more. I can’t explain it, but I’m doing what I’m meant to do, for as long as I can. It’s a war, love. We can’t just get used to it, and it’s not going away.”

Abiene’s face looked as pale as first light. “Akatosh… That’s why you close the Gates. It’s not just revenge. You think you can end this.” She pulled her hands away and took a ragged breath.

He watched her struggle for a long moment. There was nothing she could change. Maybe this time she would accept it.

Now her voice sounded small, as if she had somehow diminished. “I want you to say that you’ll come back to me.”

We’ve been over this, thought Jerric. Silence stretched between them.

After time she lay down next to him, curling against his side in the way he wished was more familiar. He fell asleep with tears cooling his shoulder.

[SubRosa]

“I remember that day in the work room. You were so sweaty, and you tasted of ginger.
This was a nice touch, to flash back to that previous encounter.

Can’t it wait, say, three minutes?
At least he is honest about his... abilities!

So Abiene is finally ready to be an honest woman. Well it's about damn time woman. But I am afraid her timing cannot be worse. Not with the danger Jerric worrying about placing his friends during the last episode, and his need to be secretive. This is not going to go over well...

And finally the realization that Jerric is more than just a regular guy with a lot of luck. At least not anymore. Akatosh's fire is in him. That was a wonderful way of revealing it. Methinks that besides from a mere blessing, our Jerric maybe be an actual dragonborn as well. That would explain a lot.

[mALX]

“Do we have to do this now? Can’t it wait, say, three minutes?”

Abiene stood with fists on hips, wearing only a frown. Jerric sprawled suggestively and wiggled his eyebrows at her.

These two lines had me in hysterics !!!

“Maybe later.”

GAAAAH!!!! Jerric turned down food?

The section from Jerric's nightmare on was powerful and revealing a lot more of what Jerric has been holding back from everyone. There was not just a feeling of destiny here, but a feeling of finalization, mortality. Jerric doesn't think he will survive this, and doesn't want Abiene unprotected when he is gone is the feeling I got from that conversation.

Poor Darnand doesn't stand a chance against the chemistry between these two, but somehow I get the feeling he will eventually have his day.

Very powerful write !!!! Awesome !!!!

[King Coin]

Abiene the healer always. Three minutes?!

Interesting about the scar on his neck. I’m glad you took the time to share that with us.

Yikes! She wants him despite the ‘no promises’ warning. Doesn’t it usually end up that way? This isn’t what Jerric had in mind at all! I’m surprised that she took his answer as well as she did.

What?! Jerric cast in his dreams? I never considered that happening! That was a really strong ending for this chapter. It’s so easy to forget Jerric’s burdens when he’s such an easy going guy. He hides all his pain so well that you forget it is there. Touching at the end, Abiene wants him to make a promise he knows he can’t keep, and he doesn’t do it. Amazing!