[X] My Assistant

[Grits]

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jerric

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

Table of Contents

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


The Darnandex

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

Chapter 1: Working Vacation

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Worst of all, Abiene seemed to like him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can thank the stars for that.”

Atronach, thought Darnand. That explains a lot.

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

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

___

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Darnand gritted his teeth and stared into his beer.

Jerric thumped his arm.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jerric shrugged. “You seem tense.”

The door opened and closed with inn traffic.

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

___

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

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

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

“Darnand,” Jerric said.

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

“Darnand,” Jerric said again.

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

“It’s important.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Darnand,” Jerric said.

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

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

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

“Your healing spell?” he surmised.

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

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

Jerric looked blank.

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

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

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

“Yeah, but I’m not very good at it.”

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

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

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

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

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

Jerric picked up Darnand’s knife.

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

___

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

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

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

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

“Battlemage,” they finished with a grin.

.

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

[Darkness Eternal]

Valley of Hope, part four: The entrance to this spooky place had me on the egde. It is great to see all these characters together! Aravi did some good killing here. Love that shot with her bow.

I enjoyed this particular detail here:

If they were vampires their flesh would rapidly decompose once the energy that had animated them faded. Old vampires would fall into dust, but fledglings would only wither.

Goes to show that these guys are walking fossils! Jerric will make short work of them!

The team-up here is awesome. The imagery of Jerric running into the room with an atronach behind him had me laughing, but also painted a pretty cool picture.

"You need someone to hold your hair back like a woman.”

It was nice and wise to see that they stopped to consider that the vampires could have hoarded the material possessions of their prey. Out of sentiment and the need to deliver proof, bringing these things back to the villagers would be a nice touch. You added humor, action and a bit of drama all in one! Hooray!

Part five:

Talk about lack of communication skills here. Poor Aravi! More spiders for her! I am a sucker for well-written battles and you delivered. Kudos.

Arkay's Law made a mention! Sticking to lore like Subrosa said. I like this a lot. You are a good writer and I regret not checking this story out before. I can learn from you, Grits! Truly, I can.

Once again this chapter has humor on it that actually had me laughing. This part had me digusted.
Khajiit stood in the scattered spider parts, a sword clenched in each quivering hand. Black ichor dripped down her face and chest. Her eyes were wild, ears flattened back, tail rigid and bushed out.

This post has been edited by Darkness Eternal: Apr 6 2013, 11:57 PM

[Grits]

Previously: Jerric, Darnand, Lildereth, and Aravi finished their business in the vampire lair. Aravi agreed to camp with them, and they went to find a site she knew near warm springs. On the way they encountered a spider daedra. Aravi and her screenshots appear with the cooperation and generosity of her creator King Coin. Thank you so much, KC!!


Elisabeth Hollow: Thanks!

Acadian: That was a fun scene to write, especially on the heels of the vampire fight. Lil appreciates the sympathy. Her skills prevent big messy fights, so her successes could be written as, “…and no one suspected a thing.” Thank you, Acadian!

ghastley: Yep, Darnand is a loose cannon these days. More power than practical experience (Apprentice birthsign) and more confidence than judgment. He didn’t know that Aravi was shooting much less where she was behind him when he summoned. Jerric will report on his hair status shortly. And yes, Aravi is not a fan of spiders! Thanks, ghastley!

Lopov: Welcome to the story, Lopov! Thanks, and I’m glad you’re reading.

mALX: I’m glad you enjoyed the spiders and tail-pulling. We had a blast writing them. Aravi and Darnand had a rough time on this adventure! This whole part reminds me of the fun we had sending our characters to clear dungeons in Aravi’s Oblivion thread. All they needed was for Maxical to pop up with that bow and arrows that she found!! Thank you, mALX!

SubRosa: Darnand is still coming to grips with killing people, so I’m glad you pointed out those lines. Even in his own POV I wasn’t sure if that was coming across. Teresa’s story has inspired me to think harder about how magic works in Jerric’s world, especially the possibilities with summoned astronauts. Thank you, SubRosa!

Colonel Mustard: You caught up!! Wow, and yay! Your kind words have me grinning and blushing. This has been quite a learning experience. Thank you so much, and I’m glad you’re reading!

King Coin: I was just looking over our notes for this section and giggling like a fiend about it. Writing this together has been tremendous fun! And thankfully it seems our characters did not all storm off in a huff over the trials we gave them. You really picked up on how Darnand’s summoned dremora fueled his recklessness when he was already enjoying his own fire a little too much. Thank you, KC!

McBadgere: Finally the Ishckrihk episode!! I’m so glad you liked it. After I didn’t show him being awesome against the vampires I wanted to yell, His Big Part Is Next!! (Er… that didn’t sound quite right. ) But I waited. Thank you so much, McB!!

Darkness Eternal: Thank you for your vampire advice! I like the way different areas of Tamriel have their own kinds of vampires, and I wanted mine to make sense. Also as a PS3 player my characters can’t cure vampirism, so not knowing a cure was a little dig at Those Who Failed To Fix The Game. I’m glad you enjoyed the fights. There aren’t many so I tend to stress over them. Thanks, DE!


Next: Let’s go camping, for real this time. This is the fifth of five segments featuring King Coin’s Aravi.

[Grits]

.

Chapter 16: Valley of Hopes, Part Six

Jerric stood at the pool’s edge, knee-deep in soft ferns. The water was just warm enough to bring early spring to this sheltered grotto. Cold air flowed down from the mountain, sending mist off the surface in slow tendrils. Frogs trilled in the reeds. The stars bathed him in cool light.

“I wish I had a tail,” said Jerric.

Darnand snorted. “If you had a sixth appendage we would never get anything done. You took so long in the bushes I thought you had fallen into some crevasse.”

“It was that Hope Valley sheep’s cheese,” Jerric laughed. “It made me costive.”

“It was a Khajiit and a Bosmer vying for your imagination.” Darnand knelt in the pool’s shadowed end, but Jerric could guess his expression.

“It’s a shame but that’s all I have to work with,” Jerric replied, bouncing on his toes. “All that sweet tail back at the campsite, and you’ve had your hands on both of them.” He leaped up onto a boulder and back down, trying to land silently. “That reminds me of a joke.”

“No tail jokes tonight, if you please,” said Darnand. “It might be racially uncomfortable. And for the love of Stendarr put on some trousers if you must prance about. Some of us can see in the dark.”

“Are you still shaving? What happened, can’t find your other chin whisker?” Jerric hopped back up on the rock. “Anyway Lildereth has pointy ears and you’re slim as a maiden but we don’t avoid the subject. I guess it’s the same with a tail.” A breeze whispered through the tall firs and curled around him like Kyne’s softest kiss. “Gods, it’s good to be alive tonight!”

Darnand splashed out of the pool, shivering. He lunged for his pack. “Wh-when were you in danger?” He quickly dried himself with the cleaner side of his mages robe. Towels had been among the casualties when they re-packed Jerric’s armor.

“Well the vampires went down pretty quick, but then some Breton tried to burn my face off. Again.”

“Apologies. We should add to my practice drills. Casting under duress.” Darnand’s head disappeared as he scrubbed his hair with the robe.

Jerric considered giving him some immediate duress. One leap would carry him halfway across the pool, but he would have to flounder the rest of the way to the Breton. Darnand would have too much time to react.

“Speaking of which, how is your..?” Darnand made a vague gesture, head still under the robe.

“My what? Face? Don’t worry, the spiders took the worst of it. Besides I can grow another beard, and what’s the real point of eyebrows?” He scratched across his belly, still sparsely furred thanks to Darnand’s fire scroll two weeks ago. “You know if I had absorbed your spell, I would also have protected the spiders.”

“I know, though at the time it did not occur to me. My knowledge is largely academic. It is imperative that we expand its practical applications.”

Jerric pondered that statement while Darnand combed his hair. “Yeah,” he finally said.

Darnand tugged his robes into order, then hefted the pack onto one shoulder. “May I guess as to the nature of your first conversational offering at dinner? You are going to ask if I enjoyed my piece of tail.”

“Uh,” said Jerric.

“I fear that Aravi will misinterpret your jest as an inappropriate advance.”

“Ha! I never make unwelcome advances.” Unless they might annoy you, he thought with a grin.

“If she slaps you it will hurt more than usual,” Darnand warned.

Jerric jumped down into the ferns. “How’s your head? Any claw marks?”

Darnand gave him a look. “I shall see you back at the campsite.”

It didn’t take the breeze long to dry him. Jerric pulled on his clean tunic and leggings.

The frogs fell silent as a night heron landed at the edge of the reeds. It squawked at him irritably.

“All right, don’t get your feathers in a bunch,” he told it. “You sound like a Breton. I can’t find my damnable camp shoes.”

Jerric made his way through the fir trees to their campsite tucked between a ledge and a steep rockfall. They had a view over the valley, but the valley also had a view of them. Thus the need for a night watch.

The smell of stew cooking made his stomach gurgle. He heard Aravi’s and Lildereth’s voices alternating in conversation. Jerric tossed his soiled clothes at his pack and joined them beside the fire. Darnand passed him a cup of cold water. His face told Jerric to sit down and keep quiet.

“When you first spoke to me, that was Ta’agra?” Aravi asked Lildereth. She drew her claws through the end of her tail like a comb, picking off burrs.

“Yes.” Lildereth looked into her cup.

Jerric stilled himself.

Aravi’s voice sounded mildly curious. “How is it that you speak the Khajiit language?”

Lildereth’s brows came together. “How is it that you do not?” she snapped.

“I am not from Elsweyr.” Aravi gave Lildereth a level look.

“I’m sorry.” Lildereth spoke in a rush. “I’m being rude, and there’s no call for it.” She bit the corner of her lip. Her eyes found Jerric’s. “Is the stew ready?” she asked a little wildly.

“Not yet. We have some time.”

The fire crackled. Crickets chirped in the ferns. An owl called from the firs overhead and was answered by another down in the valley.

Then Lildereth spoke. “I’m from Valenwood. My village was on the banks of the Xylo River, at the border with Elsweyr. We lived in the trees right over the water. It never grew cold there. Fruit and fish practically fell onto our plates. Athay wasn’t far, and we could get there without ever touching the ground. They had a harbor.”

She took a trembling breath and continued. “You’ve heard of the border wars between the Khajiit and my people.”

Darnand nodded. “The Five Year War.”

“That’s what some call it. I don’t suppose any of you were born yet.”

Jerric searched his memory. His childhood stories had largely featured questing knights and wicked sorcerers, and he had parted ways with formal education before the history lessons left the First Era.

Aravi looked puzzled.

“Assume I didn’t get far in school,” Jerric told Lildereth.

“It was right before the turn of the century,” Lildereth said. “For a time the war didn’t touch us. We heard of battles and a truce, but day to day our lives were the same. Of course there was some tension when we saw our Khajiiti neighbors, but we had always lived so close together. It seemed that the war was for outsiders and we river folk would weather it as we had every other storm.” She looked over at Aravi. “So you see, I’ve always spoken Ta’agra. For a time I heard it every day.”

Darnand spoke. His tone was more gentle than Jerric could have imagined was possible. “What happened during the war?”

“They sacked Athay,” said Lildereth. Her eyes grew wide and blank.

Jerric felt as if a fist had closed over his chest. She lost everyone, he remembered.

“It was our Khajiiti friends,” she continued. “I don’t know what they thought we had done. They came at the front of their army like a great wind through the trees. I had just been found worthy of a gin-jiru bow. My first kill was an Ohmes-raht. I knew her. Her name was Nahdari.”

Jerric glanced at Aravi. The Khajiit sat perfectly still, arms wrapped around her raised knees.

“We fled while the forest burned. I couldn’t think because the trees were screaming, and all I could see was the hate in Nahdari’s eyes. Later folk said the Khajiit had dagi with them. Spell casters. I didn’t know about any of that. I wasn’t yet considered an adult, and I still lived with my parents. I was thirty, the age of… well it translates to ‘the age of stupid decisions,’ so I’m not surprised that Cyrodilic doesn’t have a word for it. My life had been one long summer.”

Lildereth took a sip from her cup.

“Go on,” Darnand murmured.

“We ran to Vindisi, a little town sheltered down in a valley. Khajiiti followed us the whole way like furibari in the trees. Like bad spirits. It was dark, and we could see the smoke in the sky lit up red and orange from the fires below. Our tribe only had three children, and none of them made it that far.”

Lildereth put down her cup. “My people have a way of living, nunkadai. It means ‘I am because we are.’ A person is only as separate from others as a branch is from the tree’s trunk. There is no self without the whole. I cannot speak about what happened next. All I can say is that when the ritual began, I fled. I ran away from my people, my responsibility, every purpose there could have been for my being.”

Jerric looked over at Darnand.

“The last Wild Hunt,” Darnand said. “It is said that every monster in the world is a remnant of a Wild Hunt. But the account I read claimed that they… that your folk… were all destroyed.”

Lildereth shook her head. “Many escaped the valley. I saw from where I hid up high in the rocks. The army was upon them when the horde burst free of the temple. The things that my tribe had become devoured the Khajiit and then turned on each other. It’s said that they were trapped by an avalanche, but that’s not true. I saw the shapes in the moonlight, moving away through the trees. I heard the cries. And I remember.”

For a time nothing spoke but the crackling fire.

“Mara’s moon blood,” said Jerric. He let out an explosive breath.

Lildereth gave a shaky laugh. “Aravi, I promise I will not become a wild beast tonight. I’m sure that’s more than you ever wanted to know about wood elves.”

Aravi sat in wide-eyed silence. Jerric wondered if she might simply stand up and walk away after Lildereth’s revelations.

“That is whom you are hunting,” Darnand said to Lildereth.

Lildereth picked up her drink. “Yes.”

“Where did you go when you ran?” asked Jerric. “You were still a kid by your reckoning, right? Who were the Imperial couple you told us about in Arenthia?”

Lildereth stood up. “The stew is ready.”

Jerric took the hint and climbed to his feet. “Breton, will you scoop it out for us? I’ll get the wine.” He walked a short distance with his back to the fire. After a moment his eyes adjusted, and the hilltops took shape dropping away in the distance. No other campfires were visible. And no angry orange glow from a Gate.

Lildereth appeared beside him.

“I guess that puts me at the age of stupid decisions,” he told her.

“A Nord’s thirty is a Bosmeri sixty,” she said. Jerric could hear the smile in her voice. “You can’t blame your age any more.”

“Today, in the ruin. When I saw you standing there with your little arrow and Darnand on the ground.”

Lildereth found his hand. “I’ll let you have that arrow and you can see just how little it is. Where would you like me to put it?”

“I’m not a vampire. You know what I mean.” A small squeeze told him that she did. “Anyway, you didn’t run.”

When Lildereth spoke she sounded somehow defeated. “I was going to use you.”

She wasn’t talking about the vampires any more.

“Now I know why you need us,” said Jerric. “I wondered. We both wondered.” He pushed down all the promises he couldn’t keep. “I hope you’ll stay with us. I’m running out of time, but I hope I get a chance to be what you want.”

Lildereth turned her face up toward him, pale in the starlight.

“You trusted us with this,” Jerric told her. “I can’t think of a greater honor.”

She slowly shook her head. “I would have let you—”

“But you didn’t. You told us. That’s more than I’ve been able to do. I guess you have an idea my sword is spoken for.”

“The Blades.”

“I can’t tell you more.”

Darnand’s voice carried to them from the campfire, but Jerric couldn’t make out the words. He wondered if Aravi’s quiet presence had triggered Lildereth’s confession. No doubt it had been building for some time. Perhaps the Breton could find the words to thank Aravi.

Lildereth hugged his arm. “I miss them so much,” she whispered, wiping her nose on his sleeve.

“Yeah,” he muttered. “I wish we could go home.”

Back at the campfire they admitted that they hadn’t brought any wine. Jerric sat cross-legged and tucked into his stew.

“These clouded funnel caps make the meal,” he said to Lildereth. “Thanks for murdering them for us.”

The Bosmer rolled her eyes at him.

“You might have chopped them a little finer,” Darnand told him.

“Teeth are for chewing,” said Jerric. He watched Aravi blow on a spoonful before she ate it.

“I did not notice cattle in Hope Valley,” Darnand mused. “Where do you suppose they got this beef?”

“It’s probably cave beef,” said Jerric. “It sure isn’t mutton.”

Aravi paused, spoon raised.

“Cave beef?” asked Darnand.

“Yeah, same as sand beef. Rat. Not corpse-fed tomb rat, just good old cave-dwelling, cairn bolete stuffed— Are you all right?”

Aravi put down her stew, coughing. She took a gulp from her cup.

“He is jesting,” Darnand said, wrinkling his brows. His spoon became a delicate probe as he investigated his bowl.

“Is that like mountain oysters?” laughed Lildereth.

“Yeah,” said Jerric. “Only the opposite.”

Aravi pressed white knuckles against her mouth. Her shoulders heaved.

“Gods,” said Jerric. “I was only jesting! It’s beef from the valley, I swear it. They buy calves every spring and graze them in the meadows, but they don’t overwinter like the sheep. Igren told me all about it. They dry the meat to preserve it, that’s why the stew took so long to cook. Aravi, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to make you sick.”

Darnand spooned another bite into his mouth. “You are a brave man if you sleep tonight, Nord.”

“Anyway rat meat is more stringy,” Lildereth said to Aravi. She raised her eyebrows in an encouraging manner.

Aravi just stared at Jerric, shaking her head.

Jerric waited as long as he could. Lady Luck favors the bold, he decided.

“Uh, Aravi, if you’ve really lost your appetite…” He nodded at her abandoned bowl. “That is to say, are you going to finish that?”

.

This post has been edited by Grits: Apr 8 2013, 04:48 PM

[Elisabeth Hollow]

That was some intense stuff from Lildreth's past. But she told them! That's a step in the right direction!

[mALX]

Anyway rat meat is more stringy,” Lildereth said to Aravi. She raised her eyebrows in an encouraging manner.

Very visual line - and funny picturing it! Absolutely LOVED this chapter! Some one on one time between Jerric and Darnand was so missed! Lildereth’s finally confessing her secrets, how Jerric must feel the similarity of what they’ve been through and where they are headed - except the enemies aren‘t the same ones, and Jerric‘s sword is spoken for. (hopefully he meant only the sword that hangs at his side). I knew the second Aravi abandoned her bowl Jerric would pounce on it like a hungry leopard, ROFL! Spectacular chapter, and Awesome Write!

[Acadian]

A wonderful two part episode.

First, we have the boyz and their bath. Here, you so totally capture both of them with their own words:
“I know, though at the time it did not occur to me. My knowledge is largely academic. It is imperative that we expand its practical applications.”
Jerric pondered that statement while Darnand combed his hair. “Yeah,” he finally said.’

Don’t feel bad, Jerric. Buffy wishes she had a tail too sometimes. Something about always wishing for what you don’t have.

*

Ah, then back to camp for part deux -

‘The fire crackled. Crickets chirped in the ferns. An owl called from the firs overhead and was answered by another down in the valley.’
Another magnificent bit of Grits painting the scene – only this time with sound. Oh, and a beautiful screenshot, thanks to KC!

Very cool to hear Lildereth open up about her past. Loved hearing about her Valenwood. Aravi’s having a good influence on her.

Poor kitty’s patiently endured having her tail pulled, spiders dropped on her and now rat / not rat stew.

[SubRosa]

A breeze whispered through the tall firs and curled around him like Kyne’s softest kiss.
This was a particularly wonderful metaphor.

what’s the real point of eyebrows?
To keep sweat from dripping down into your eyes? This reminds me of an interview I once saw with Peter MacNicol, who starred in Dragonslayer. His face was singed in one scene, and his eyebrows completely burned off. He mentioned the part about the sweat falling into his eyes after that. You learn the strangest things from movies...

“Ha! I never make unwelcome advances.”
Now that is spoken like a true male!

Another wonderful Aravi picture for the campsite.

I loved your description of Lil's old home on the banks of the Xylo, especially the part about being able to walk to the city without stepping on the ground. It is hard to imagine it now, but the entire eastern U.S. seaboard was like that at one time.

“Assume I didn’t get far in school,” Jerric told Lildereth.
This reminds me of The Chronicles of Riddick. "Pretend you're talking to someone educated in the Penal System. In fact, don't pretend."

Lil's description of the sack of her home was a sobering examples of the horrors of war. Not just any war, but a civil war, where the people killing and being killed are friends. I loved the fact that you included so many Bosmer words in your description. It makes their culture come alive as being real and distinct. Especially small touches like "the age of stupid decisions" - sounds like 15 -20 for a human.

The Wild Hunt! Eeeps. I do not blame Lil for fleeing rather than take part in that. It may have been a betrayal of her people, but the Hunt itself is a betrayal of their own elfmanity as well. Now we finally see what is driving at Lil. It does a lot to explain her nature. Still, as dark a horror as it is to hunt down the monsters that your kin have become, at least she is not a Mythic Dawn agent!

“It’s probably cave beef,”
Oh noes! I know what that is!

[Elisabeth Hollow]

What's cave beef? I know what mountain oysters are... But...lol

[mALX]

What's cave beef? I know what mountain oysters are... But...lol

Cave beef is when Jerric is inside the cave, lol.

[Elisabeth Hollow]

What's cave beef? I know what mountain oysters are... But...lol

Cave beef is when Jerric is inside the cave, lol.

I don't get iiiiiiiit XD

[ghastley]

“That is whom you are hunting,” Darnand said to Lildereth.

The correctness of this sentence is just so Darnand.

And I note he's baiting Aravi as much as Jerric does. He needs to be careful, he might just get paid back in Skyrim.

[McBadgere]

I think that this was my fave Jerric episode ever... ...

On pretty much every level it was perfect...

Lildreth's story was hauntingly sad, yet the imagery beautifully rendered; the Jerric/Darnarnd banter at the start was funny as hell; the Jerric/Lildreth moment was just amazing, neither actually spelling it out loud...But still made me grin hugely in delight...

And then the joking at the end about the stew... ...

Your writing is just...*Sigh*... ...

So much I could quote, but this...

“Many escaped the valley. I saw from where I hid up high in the rocks. The army was upon them when the horde burst free of the temple. The things that my tribe had become devoured the Khajiit and then turned on each other. It’s said that they were trapped by an avalanche, but that’s not true. I saw the shapes in the moonlight, moving away through the trees. I heard the cries. And I remember.”

Just shiver inducing... ...

Let's hope there's some more very soon... ...

Pretty much perfect I say!!...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds most heartily*...

[Darkness Eternal]

No problem Grits, happy to help. I like that they have different types, too!

Yes Jerric, I wish I had a tail too!

The witty banther between Jerric and Darnard had me laughing. "How is what? My face?"



Lildereth's history was pretty cool to read. I echo the others. Xylo river, eh? A pretty exotic place. Then again, Valenwood is everything exotic compared to Cyrodiil and Skyrim or even High Rock. I enjoyed reading about her story about the Five Year War between the Bosmer and the Khajiit, and of course the Wild Hunt! One of the two Wild Hunt's in the ES.

I have to say what you're good at is writing dialogue. You have great skill in the pacing and the words that I sometimes struggle with! Good job on that

[haute ecole rider]

A little late to the updates, but I have finally caught up on your story.

It is as wonderful and immersive as always. Maybe better because of my prolonged absence.

Lildereth is just growing on me. She is turning into the star of this story for me, even though I still love Jerric and Darnand (and their interactions).

I really have enjoyed meeting Aravi. Especially enjoyed her arachnophobia. Though my own cats just watch the creepy-crawlies with bored fascination and little else of use.

[King Coin]

So sorry it’s taken me this long to comment, though you know I’ve read it long before now.

The imagery in the beginning is so beautiful. Cool air, a misty bath, shining stars, and frogs trilling.

Ah, all the reminders of Darnand’s troubles with fire. Their scrapping is so funny. Those two are so different.

Glad Aravi is spider-gunk free now. I’m sure she was the first to bathe.

Not yet. We have some time.
AKA “Keep talking!” Surprised that worked with Lil.

Now we finally learn what Lildereth is about. That was intense, and I see why she was nervous about trusting Aravi. And we see what she’s been looking for now.

Lildereth stood up. “The stew is ready.”
Aaand that’s it! No more from Lil now.

The stew jokes lightened it up nicely after Lil’s heavy revelations. Wonderful chapter and I very much enjoyed our collaboration together.

[McBadgere]

Damn...I wondered for a minute if a new part had been presented... ...

*Looks over glasses*... ...

...

[ThatSkyrimGuy]

Started reading this one and enjoying it. It'll take quite some time to catch up, so I will post in the "Commentasaurus" thread untill I do. Great stuff!

[Kazaera]

OMG I caught up I caught up I caught up!

And I am now going to quote something relatively minor from *ages* ago:

“I have worked out the spell already,” Darnand scowled, rubbing his forehead. “It is the same enchantment that I will use for Abiene’s rain bracelet. The spell that allows one to walk upon water, weakened and spread over one’s person instead of only the body’s plantar surfaces. It should shed water in that application, or contain it when applied to a vessel’s interior. Nord, must you fling projectiles at me?”

because, well - Adryn's world has an umbrella spell too, and I decided it was a very weak Shield effect - and then I read this and went "agh! water-walking spell around the whole body! Why didn't I think of that that's perfect!" and have been simultaneously kicking myself and in awe of your brilliance ever since.

In general, I really, really like the way you delve into magic and how it *works*. Even though that delving simultaneously leaves me terrified for Darnand. Nooooo Darnand please don't become a necromancer! Just say no to zombie-raising! But he's just *curious*, and that's a motive I can understand very well... but I'm so worried where it'll lead him.

As always, your writing is an absolute delight and leaves me in awe. There are perfect moments everywhere, and your characters are so well-drawn. I appreciate seeing terrifyingly efficient super-competent Blades! (Especially because my main exposure to them has been via Morrowind and, well.) My heart bleeds for everyone involved in the Darnand+Jerric+Abiene triangle, and oh, Jerric's explanation for why they couldn't be together... *sniffs*. I love Jerric's deceptive depths. Lildereth's backstory was definitely, definitely worth the wait - it was amazing, and heartwrenching, and explains so very much about her. And it's good to know she's not a Mythic Dawn sleeper agent!

(Probably.)

In short: this story is amazing and I await further updates with bated breath.

[Grits]

Previously: Jerric, Darnand, Lildereth, and Aravi camped by warm springs overlooking Hope Valley. Lildereth told the story of her tribe becoming the Wild Hunt during the Five Year War with the Khajiit. She admitted that the monsters she is hunting are the remnants of her tribe. Aravi and her screenshots appeared with the generosity and cooperation of her creator King Coin. Thank you so much, KC!!

A reminder: As Brother Venco instructed Jerric is traveling incognito while Blades with actual training try to flush out Mythic Dawn agents for questioning. That scene can be found here. Venco took Jerric’s Blades helm and Kvatch gear and said he should ditch Lil. Jerric had Lil steal the helm back instead. He couldn’t tell her what was going on so he put her where she could figure it out.



Elisabeth Hollow: Yep, it's definitely a load off Lildereth's mind. Lol on the cave beef.

mALX: You're so right, now Jerric understands what Lildereth already knew about what draws them together, and now they've both recognized it's also what pulls them apart. Thank you, mALX!

Acadian: I'm delighted that you drew attention to those two lines between the boyz. That moment represents so many others that don't get written. Aravi was indeed the catalyst for Lildereth's unburdening. The crew is lucky she stayed through all of their teasing! Thank you, Acadian!

SubRosa: That line was definitely a Riddick tribute, and I was grinning when you mentioned it. I’m glad you enjoyed Lil’s telling of her past. I considered several ways of presenting that scene including flashbacks, but in the end I thought her own words would serve best. Thank you, SubRosa!

ghastley: I’m glad you picked out Darnand’s line. He is at his most formal when he gets emotional, and that’s hard for me to convey. Lol, Darnand should step carefully around Aravi in Skyrim. Thank you, ghastley!

McBadgere: It’s funny how the biggest moments can be the pause where the thing is not said. Thank you so much, McB! And I hope there won’t be any more long delays. (But you know how it is. )

Darkness Eternal: Thanks, DE! I love the more exotic locations in Tamriel. I can’t wait for an excuse to write about Elsweyr and Black Marsh. About dialog, I always cut a lot since the characters keep running their mouths whether it’s relevant to the story or not, lol. It can be nerve-wracking to try to get it all down. Thanks, DE!

haute ecole rider: Thank you, haute! It’s taken a long time to show why Lil can be difficult. I’m glad she’s finally coming into her own in the story. It was a delight to have Aravi’s company for a while. I’m glad you enjoyed her!

King Coin: It was a pure joy to collaborate with you on these sections. I’m sure Aravi needed to get away from the maniacs as much as she wanted that bath! I love that you pointed out the way the friends handled each other at the campfire. Thank you so much, KC!

ThatSkyrimGuy: SkyGuy, welcome! I’ll see you in the Commentasaurus. I’m delighted that you’re reading.

Kazaera: I love your Shield spell umbrella! It makes me think of the visual effect of Skyrim’s Ward spells projected over the head and following along for the duration. Sleeper in the Cave is always inspiring, particularly in the way you present magic. Your concerns for Darnand are so appreciated. They demonstrate your real understanding of his character. Thank you, Kaz!



Next: Jerric and Darnand are pursuing their Mages Guild recommendations while they search for Books 3 and 4 of the Mythic Dawn Commentaries. Lildereth is collecting Welkynd stones to trade for Master Illusion training while she searches for clues that might lead her to her lost tribe mates (so she can kill them). Onward to Bruma!

.

This post has been edited by Grits: Sep 13 2013, 12:55 AM

[Grits]

.

Chapter 17: Bruma, Part One

Jerric lay with his head sticking out of the tent, looking up at the stars. Four days’ travel on dry roads had brought them nearly to Bruma. Darnand and Lildereth were easy company. The elf had stayed with them rather than disappearing into the woods as was often her habit. Jerric suspected that the steep terrain had much to do with her decision.

Clear skies had given them magnificent views across the Heartlands to the Imperial City. It wasn’t until they turned up the Silver Road that Jerric felt the mountains closing in.

Five months ago he had followed this path with Martin and Brother Jauffre as they made for the safety of Cloud Ruler Temple. Lord Martin and Grandmaster Jauffre, he reminded himself. Prior Maborel’s blood had been wet on the ground and Kvatch had still burned behind Jerric’s and Martin’s eyes. Now in early spring there was more snow on the ground. The cold was just as piercing.

Jerric could hear Darnand outside the tent rummaging in his pack, trading books for his journal and a charcoal pencil for his quills and ink. Tonight around the campfire Jerric had shared the tale of his older brother Petr and the wolf while Darnand recorded his memories. Jerric hadn’t yet been born when the events had occurred, so he had simply repeated the story as it had been told to him and as he in turn had passed it on to younger family members. As he spoke he had almost heard the echo of his Pa’s and Petr’s voices. Now his throat ached at their silence.

Lildereth’s shadow fell over him as she passed the low fire, finishing her pre-sleep rituals.

“We’ll be there by mid-day,” she said. “The weather is going to hold.”

Jerric smiled to himself. Lildereth did not bother with unnecessary remarks. This chatter was for his benefit.

“Remember you are to use your surname only,” Darnand said from beyond Jerric’s view.

“Kjellingsson. Right,” said Jerric. “Bruma must be used to Nord ways. No one will expect me to use two names.”

The urge to tease about Imperial and Breton ancestral vanity faded as quickly as it came. Folk said the dead could hear when their names were spoken. Jerric felt a vague unease. He had no regard for his own reputation, but his Pa had passed beyond offering forgiveness. He guessed he might learn how it felt to hold on to shame.

“I propose that you call yourself Kjelling,” said Darnand. “You will provoke fewer questions if you use a simple name.”

“No way,” said Jerric. “There was only one Kjelling, and it’s not me.”

“Kjellingsson of Anvil,” Lildereth suggested. “With that West Weald accent and a Gold Coast drawl it’s no secret you’re not from around here.” She glanced down at him as she walked past. “And you won’t have to keep track of a lie.”

“Yeah. The less I talk the fewer times I’ll screw it up. I give myself ten minutes. Less if there’s an attractive woman at the gate. You two should take wagers.”

“I claim the livery,” said Darnand. “Though I hope you make it as far as the gate. Lildereth?”

The elf didn’t reply as she slipped into the tent. Jerric turned his head to watch her drop her cloak before burrowing into the bedroll. To his surprise she spread her furs over him instead.

“Don’t get ideas,” she muttered. “It’s fetching cold.”

“Colder than a minotaur with brass balls,” Jerric agreed. He lifted his arm so she could crawl under.

“Colder than a horker’s twat,” Lildereth said, a smile in her voice. Jerric’s brow went up as she wrapped around him like a sea star. Her chilled nose made him twitch.

Jerric tucked the furs then worked his arm back under. “I guess your elf magic isn’t much use on the ice.”

Lildereth’s reply was muffled but her tone was unmistakable.

“Is any part of you still touching the ground?” Jerric asked. “You know, it’s warmest down the front of my drawers.”

“Guess that’s why your hands are never cold. Sweet Mother Mara, you stink! I thought I was used to it.”

Jerric laughed, his breath puffing out in a cloud. “That’s the beans. You can’t complain about the stink while you’re enjoying the warmth.” He clenched his belly to see if he could squeak out another one.

Lildereth made the expected sound of dismay.

Darnand spoke from the darkness. “I shall awaken you for your watch whether or not you have slept.”

“Come on over,” Jerric suggested. “We can make an elf sandwich. For heat.”

Lildereth started to laugh.

“Did you think I said ‘meat’?” Jerric teased. “You know, you’d be warmer bare. And if you might give in to any urges I could stay awake for it. Whoa! That’s not a good place for your knee.”

Lildereth wiggled around some more.

Ulfe emerged from the trees and ambled over. She planted her great, snowy paws on Jerric’s chest and leaned down, huffing her breath in his face.

“Argh, Ulfe! Have you been eating mort flesh?” He couldn’t get an arm free to shove the dog. “Breton, get over here! She’s got me pinned! You’re supposed to be protecting the camp!”

“The dog is friendly,” Darnand said in an absent tone. “And if you refer to the elf, then count yourself lucky.”

Jerric heard a page turn over the sound of Ulfe’s panting. The hound let out a whimpering groan as she flopped down on top of them. Lildereth made a frantic yelp under the furs.

“Don’t blame me, it’s the dog.” Jerric heaved her off with a grunt, still grinning over Darnand’s jest. “Here, girl.” He patted the ground cloth.

Ulfe got the hint and stretched out with her back against him. Lildereth finished squirming and lay curled into his other side. Jerric closed his eyes.

After a moment he opened them again.

“Breton.”

“…Yes?”

“Uh, never mind.”

A soft snort came from Darnand’s direction. He might as well have spoken the words, ‘You are welcome.’

.

This post has been edited by Grits: Sep 12 2013, 01:08 PM