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

[McBadgere]

OOoh, I have missed me Jerric!... ...

Sorry it took so long to get here...The eyes aren't back to full strength yet... ...

Anyways...

Firstly...

“Not the lads,”
Not Zeus and Apollo! Oh, too much Magnum P.I...

...At least it wasn't just me... ...

Secondly...

My God I love this story...

I absolutely love the way you bring all of the game's details in and then twist it all into some massive pile of awesome hilarity and mega-story-awesomeness...

Yes, I'm addicted to the word awesome...I blame Supernatural, but then that's just me...

But yeah, all the characters and their scripts turned on their heads for the sake of expanding the story...

I love the details about the Necromancy in the guild...Still creeps me out that it's in there at all, but they didn't make it for me, did they?... ...Loved the quest to find the Khajiit in the game...Always fun...

Loved the Fighters Guild stuff too...The smith made me laugh..."Loredas..."... ...

As did this bit (amongst other...Um...Bits...)...

"Please make yourself comfortable on this side of the room. Selena will be your only roommate unless more traveling guild members arrive.”

“Are you expecting more visitors?”

Jeanne puffed out a breath. “No.”

...

Amazing writing...Glad to be back...*Smiles warmly*...

A long overdue Nice One!!!™...

and a huge and hearty round of Hearty Applauding™...

[Grits]

Previously: Jerric and Darnand are in Bruma seeking Mages Guild recommendations while searching for the Mythic Dawn Commentaries. Lildereth is with them pursuing her own concerns. Jerric earned his recommendation by making J’skar reappear (with some help from Ulfe). Darnand is earning his by doing inventory.


Elisabeth Hollow: Thanks! I’m sorry about the extra-slow pace. I keep forgetting things between updates, too!

haute ecole rider: Thank you, haute! It was fun to let Jerric do some pranking. A reminder of happier times.

ghastley: Thanks, ghastley! Jeanne was fun to figure out. She had to have some reasons behind her situation and behavior.

SubRosa: Thank you, SubRosa! The Bruma recommendation was fun to write for Jerric. A quest with no killing!

Acadian: Thank you, Acadian! Jerric’s speech to Volanaro was one of the first things I wrote for him years ago. It was like meeting an old friend to find that passage in my notes. To hear that it rang true to the Jerric you have come to know means so much. I love the smiley depiction of our friends at the Bruma Guild!

Colonel Mustard: Originally I had planned to have the Fighters Guild and the Mages Guild questlines play out during this story. Lol. I’ve learned some things since then! Thanks, Mustard!

King Coin: I think it’s safe to say that Selena will never be in Jerric’s fan club. Ulfe should get the recommendation! Thanks, KC!

Darkness Eternal: Thanks, DE! Good thing Ulfe is friendly and didn’t give J’skar a little nip down low.

Callidus Thorn: Thank you, Callidus! Sorry about the delay. It’s great to have you reading!

McBadgere: Thank you so much, McB! This was a fun one to write. So many ways for Jerric to screw it up, lol. And after another long delay… more parts!


Next: Jerric is due at the Fighters Guild for an evaluation with Right-Wind, the guild’s Blade trainer. The Bruma FG chapter head Asgerd is aware of Jerric’s status as agent of the Blades. She has promised him a contract and informed him that Jauffre expects a visit before he leaves the area.

.

Chapter 17: Bruma, Part Six

Outside the Mages Guild Ulfe trotted away without a backward glance. Jerric wondered if she was on the scent of a Bosmer. The hound shared Lildereth’s habit of disappearing and then reappearing without explanation.

Jerric slowed his steps as he passed the brothel. The afternoon sun had already dropped behind the mountains, leaving the street in shade. The building’s ground floor lacked windows on the front, as did most of the others on this level of the city. Only one discreet sign and a number of guild banners served to advertise the business. He supposed that the wind must be enough to drive the indecisive indoors in the absence of shop-front temptations.

Inside the Fighters Guild Right-Wind stood on the training floor dressed in leather armor. “Get your shield,” he said to Jerric, tossing him a blunted practice sword. “And put on your plate, if you value your soft skin. Khah-khah-khah.”

Bumph came forward with some leather pads for him to wear over his torso and thighs. Jerric watched Right-Wind warm up while he put on the safety gear. The blade Right-Wind had chosen was close to Redeemer in length and balance. Jerric resolved to get a few more noises out of the lizard.

Right-Wind pushed Jerric hard from the start. Sweat soaked through his tunic within minutes. They had drawn a crowd by the time Jerric finally bashed Right-Wind into a stupor with his shield. He scanned the scarred mats while Kjestrid patted the lizard awake.

“I don’t think you lost any teeth,” Jerric said to him. It was all he could manage while catching his breath.

Right-Wind’s answer did not sound like words. When his eyes cleared, he continued in Cyrodilic. “We do not have anything more to teach them,” Right-Wind said. “Have they trained with Rhano? We have not sparred with them.”

Jerric’s own head felt fuzzy trying to sort through the dazed Argonian’s pronouns. He decided that the truth would serve best. “I trained under Master Daron in Kvatch,” he said. “Rhano trained with him, too, when he was a lad. You have a good eye.”

Right-Wind accepted Jerric’s arm up and kept the grip for a moment once on his feet. His eyes squinted and his mouth wrinkled up at the corners. “You could be faster.”

Bumph spoke up. “He moves well enough.” She shot a glance over Jerric’s shoulder where Asgerd leaned against the wall.

Jerric didn’t see the reply, but Bumph must have gotten her message across. Asgerd came forward and clapped Jerric on the shoulder. “You’d like a meal, I’d wager. Won’t be long now. Clean up this gear. Bumph will show you where to stow it.”

Jerric saw a number of his guild mates surrendering coins to the Khajiit as he followed Bumph to the basement. He guessed that only the cat had been willing to bet against Right-Wind. Jerric’s thigh began to complain as they went down the steps. By the time he reached his work station a number of pains had made themselves known.

“He’s fast,” Jerric said to Bumph. “I had to take more hits than I’d have liked.” The orc was a trainer in the use of heavy armor. There was no harm in fishing for some free advice.

“You’re a counter-striker,” Bumph said. “Even with your shield you’re going to take some punishment when you spar in practice gear.”

“And I usually soften them up on the way in with a little frost.”

Bumph snorted.

Jerric had to agree. The stars made him a mage, but his Nord blood wasn’t always in agreement. “When’s dinner?”

They found the tables loaded with food when they returned to the main level. Jerric took a seat at Kjestrid’s table between the Khajiit who had bet on him and a red-headed Nord woman.

“Kjellingsson,” he said to the group.

“Yeah, we figured that out,” said the redhead.

“That one is Rhea,” the Khajiit told Jerric, indicating the woman. “This one is Shamir-Do.”

Jerric glanced around as the others introduced themselves.

“Perius,” said a sandy-haired Imperial seated next to Kjestrid. He elbowed the man to his left. “This lump is Torellius. And here’s Gjaever.”

A red-faced Nord sat down with a crash, grunting in recognition of Jerric’s greeting. He began filling mugs from a gloriously large earthenware pitcher.

“Pleased to meet you,” Jerric said. He traded an empty tankard for a full one.

Rather than passing the serving dishes in the Gold Coast manner, the Bruma guild members reached into the center of the table and helped themselves from the enormous bowls of food. Jerric filled his plate with roasted potatoes and carrots, boiled cabbage and sausage, and a pile of mutton slices. He eyed the roasted dog, deciding he would henceforth pass on that kind of meat.

The local brew was a rich, foamy porter. Jerric drank deeply and let out an appreciative belch.

“Black as a Suthay’s birth night,” said Shamir-Do, lifting his tankard. The Khajiit seemed to have a Nord’s appreciation for the bitter beer.

From Shamir-Do’s impressive stature Jerric guessed he was a Cathay, but he didn’t know how to ask. The Khajiit wore a sleeveless vest over a short-sleeved tunic, and the fur on his thick arms showed sable rosettes against a tan base color. He wore his dark hair tied up in braids and beads. They call Cathy-raht ‘jaguar-men,’ Jerric thought. He wondered if that was because of their elaborate spots.

Shamir-Do’s fangs showed in a grin when he caught Jerric looking.

Or it could be the teeth. “Why’d you bet on me?” Jerric asked him. Right-Wind sat at the other table, so Jerric thought the Khajiit might speak freely.

“This one likes a longshot.”

Rhea turned and looked straight at Jerric. “Is that a wedding ring?” She nodded at his shield hand.

Habit made Jerric touch the gold band with his thumb. “No, it was a gift from my sister. Her idea of a jest.” His mind filled with the things he wasn’t supposed to say. Not telling her tale felt like a betrayal. His throat began to tighten. Dammit. Not now.

Rhea’s eyebrows went up. “So are you single?”

“Uh.” Jerric picked up his tankard then put it back down. Here the ground was even less certain. He felt his face flush. “It’s complicated.”

Gjaever reached across with the pitcher and filled Jerric’s cup without a word while Perius muttered to Rhea. Shamir-Do and Torellius leaned back for the show.

“Oh,” she exclaimed. “Oh. Then you’re the battlemage. Why aren’t you staying with—” Kjestrid’s elbow in her ribs shut Rhea up. Jerric feared the condition was temporary.

“Never mind, Rhea,” said Kjestrid. She turned a kind smile toward Jerric. “It’s been a long winter with few new folk in town. Enough to turn fighters into fishwives.”

“But,” said Rhea, then she yelped. Jerric hoped that someone had kicked her. He put his face into his tankard.

Chairs scraped the floor as Asgerd and Bumph stood up from a far table. Jerric’s dinner companions turned to listen to their chapter head.

“Good work out there today. Job done and no one died. Still, Jaan tells me some of you will be doing extra sprints. And one of you proved the strength of his metal.”

As Kjestrid flushed bright pink, Perius reached out and tousled her hair. Jerric recalled the dented helm. He guessed that surviving such a blow earned a fighter more practice drills than praise in this guild hall. He had to admit that ducking was usually better.

“Congratulations go to Torellius, our guild’s newest Swordsman.” Asgerd tossed the rank medal across to the grinning Imperial. He dropped the thong over his head and kissed the emblem before tucking it into his tunic.

“I have your assignments,” Asgerd continued. “Rhea and Perius, you’ll take the Applewatch run. Torellius, see me later. I have an offer for you, but it’s your call if you take it. They asked for you specifically. Kjestrid, Gjaever, Shamir-Do, and Kjellingsson, see me tonight in my office. Contracts will be posted as usual.” Jerric guessed that the last had been said for his benefit.

Talk resumed with the expected rude speculation over the special request for Torellius, but no grumbling. Jerric noted that not everyone had been assigned work. He guessed that Asgerd must have a fair system in place, or else folk aired their grievances in private. Either way was encouraging.

By the time Vito and Tonio hustled out to clear the tables most of the non-resident fighters had left. Kjestrid remained in her seat. Jerric leaned back and scratched his belly.

“Are you staying for a sweat?” Rhea asked Kjestrid. “I want to get in and out before the troops get here.”

“Not tonight. I’m going out with Skjorta.”

That got an eyeroll from Rhea, a snort from Shamir-Do, and Gjaever’s beard might have twitched.

Jerric gave Shamir-Do a questioning look.

The cat-man shook his beads. “Khajiit has not the words.”

“It’s an old Nord tradition,” Kjestrid told Jerric. Her tone was serious, but her laughing eyes made Jerric suspicious. “You really must try it. Go into the sweat lodge with a pitcher of ale. Then when you come back out, just do what comes naturally.”

Jerric imagined that she was not talking about a long piss against the side of a building, but he couldn’t come up with another idea. He decided to wait and see. “What troops?” he asked Rhea.

“Militia, reserve, and irregulars. They come here on rotation to train with the Bruma Guard. The castle makes their soup and the chapel helps with the healing. Asgerd knows who will be here when, if you care that much. They come in after dark, sleep on the floor, and leave before first light. So if you’re looking for someone you’ll have to be quick about it.”

“No,” said Jerric. “Just curious.” Overuse explained the guild’s state of grime. Asgerd hadn’t seemed like one who would run a shabby hall. The spacious and empty Mages Guild seemed pristine by comparison. “How many?”

“Up to a hundred fifty, give or take.” The flirty smile was gone from Rhea’s face, replaced with cold resolve. “Companies come from all over. Farmers mostly. Cattlemen, woodcutters, hunters…” Her eyes snapped to Jerric’s. “Do you serve in County Anvil?”

“Uh.” Jerric scratched a hand over his head, stalling. His mind was an empty roll of parchment.

Kjestrid spoke. “I heard you and your mage friend fought daedra with the Legion along the Gold Road.” While Jerric stared she cut her eyes at Rhea. “A lot of folk lost their lives around there. So I guess we should shut the fetch up about it.”

Gjaever broke the silence by rising majestically to his feet.

Kjestrid glanced up at him. “Yeah,” she said as if he had spoken out loud. “Let’s go talk to Asgerd.”

[SubRosa]

Since Jerric is not getting any bump and tickle in the hooer house, it looks like the Fighters Guild will have to suffice. Quite a few bumps there!

The stars made him a mage, but his Nord blood wasn’t always in agreement.
I love this little Nordic observation.

And I see dinner is served Nordic-style as well, rather than with West Coast Manners.

“It’s complicated.”
That is an understatement of Bretonic proportions...

A nice get to know you with the Bruma Fighters Guild. They are a much more interesting bunch that what we see in any of the guild halls in the game. For starters, they actually work for a living! Instead of just lounging around all day.

[ghastley]

“I don’t think you lost any teeth,” Jerric said to him. He does have more to spare than most of the other races.

Glad to see the FG gets a few more recruits in Jerric's world than the vanilla game. It's almost not worth having the building in Bruma for that few.

[Elisabeth Hollow]

I really, really love seeing personality in the guildmates, and seeing how they interact with one another.

And poor Jerric, lol. Lil's little spiel about him and Darnand being lovers isn't helping him with the ladies lol

[Acadian]

I’m so glad to see this continuing, and much appreciate the little ‘previously’ and ‘next’ paragraphs that so nicely warm us up right back into things.

Jerric really held his own against Right Wind!

“Black as a Suthay’s birth night,” - - I loved this nod to how the moons determine the breed of each Khajiit at the time of their birth. And sure enough, a moonless night (both moons in new phase) makes for a Suthay kitten! I've thoroughly loved Iliana's Elsweyr mod and the variety of Khajiit found there; it actually got me quite interested in how the moons affect their breed.

What a delightful picture you paint here of the Bruma FG. Since I'm not very familiar with the FG halls, it is the wonderful flavor added to Bruma by you and Bravil by SubRosa that helps me appreciate both of them. Buffy's exposure is generally limited to absent-mindedly popping into the Anvil FG instead of the MG since they are side by side. That typically results in a hungry "I like what I see!" from the handsome Azzan, followed by a quick elven retreat.

I loved the flirty and awkward persistence of Rhea. Yeah. . . it’s complicated.

[haute ecole rider]

I loved this latest update and the insights into the members of the Bruma Fighters Guild. I wish I had the opportunity in OHDH to spend more time with these folks, as they are as much fun in their own ways as the Mages Guild. But alas, that is not the path Julian or Tallei chose to follow. Some day soon, though . . .

Both SubRosa and Acadian already touched on the things I loved the most about this update. So I'll just say:

[Callidus Thorn]

Well, since I had to re-read the whole of chapter seventeen to refresh my memory, just about everything I would have commented on already has been

Though I'll still echo others by saying how great it was too see the Bruma Fighters Guild come to life.

“No, it was a gift from my sister. Her idea of a jest.” His mind filled with the things he wasn’t supposed to say. Not telling her tale felt like a betrayal. His throat began to tighten. Dammit. Not now.

I love this bit, beautifully done.

[King Coin]

This was a fun chapter, I’m glad you updated Grits!

I thought Jerric slowed his steps at the brothel because he was going to head inside…

Loved getting to know some of the other guild members more. Sounds like Jerric won his place at the guildhall. A big gambling Khajiit, I wonder if he was inspired by anyone?

And it seems like Jerric’s already blown his cover. The Blades sure picked a bad agent!

[Darkness Eternal]

Jerric can never stray from a brothel, can he? Who can blame him? If you have the coin, might as well right? But alas, he just walked by it.

The guild members were something else. Good to get to know some of them. Jerric's joining was cool. I do wonder what this will lead him and his friends to.

[Grits]

Previously: Jerric and Darnand are in Bruma seeking Mages Guild recommendations while searching for the Mythic Dawn Commentaries. Lildereth is with them searching for monsters to hunt and collecting Welkynd stones. Jerric sparred Right-Wind, met some guild mates, and ate dinner at the Fighters Guild hall. When Jerric left the Mages Guild Ulfe trotted off to pursue her own business.



SubRosa: I was surprised to find the game’s Bruma FG has only two members (plus the porter). There’s a bug on consoles that sometimes locks you inside so I habitually avoided that building until Jerric’s PC game. It’s been fun to fill it with Brumese fighters. Thank you, SubRosa!

ghastley: When I pictured Right-Wind’s toothy smile I knew Jerric would love to put some gaps in it. The Bruma FG definitely seems unfinished in the vanilla game. They don’t even offer any quests. Thanks, ghastley!

Elisabeth Hollow: Thanks, Elisabeth! Lildereth is pretty pleased with herself over that little deception.

Acadian: I added the ‘previously’ remarks so that folks might remember what we are discussing after these long breaks between segments. It was fun to show how Jerric’s skills measure up without his spells. As Asgerd said, his rank doesn’t reflect his abilities. Right-Wind is only a basic Blade trainer in the game. I got quite the chuckle over Buffy’s interactions with Azzan! Thank you, Acadian!

haute ecole rider: Initially I thought we’d spend more time with the FG quests in this story than has been feasible, so it’s fun to fill in the blanks where I can. While each Mages Guild will get a visit for a recommendation there are some FG chapters that will get skipped. Not Bruma, of course. As we know, events will bring us back to Bruma. Thank you, hautee!

Callidus Thorn: Thank you, Callidus! Jerric’s losses are never far from his mind, though the story rarely mentions them.

King Coin: Oh crap, I should have written Shamir-Do as Kharjo! After all he does say “Ahkari freed me from a prison in Cyrodiil,” and I know just the Nord who could have accidentally put him there. I smell a short story… There is no doubt that the Blades would have rejected Jerric’s application had he ever gone job-hunting. Too bad for them as Brother Venco put it, “Divine intervention circumvents our recruitment process.” Thank you, KC!

Darkness Eternal: There may be a limit to Jerric’s triumph over temptation. Good thing they usually stay at the Mages Guild instead of the guild halls that are closely associated with brothels. Thank you, DE!



Next: It’s after dinner on the 7th of First Seed, the gang’s first night in Bruma. Jerric, Kjestrid, Shamir-Do, and Gjaever get their assignment from Fighters Guild chapter head Asgerd.

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Chapter 17: Bruma, Part Seven

Jerric filed into Asgerd’s office behind Kjestrid, Gjaever, and Shamir-Do. As before the extra chairs were pushed back against the wall rather than pulled up to her desk. Asgerd rose as they entered. The five of them gathered in a circle with the desk in the middle. A map of Colovia lay on it.

“You four have the Echo run,” Asgerd said. She tapped the map with her finger, illustrating her words. “We have a package to deliver to our friends in the hills. You’ll be able to find your way up from Rielle,” she said to Jerric. Then she looked back at the Bruma fighters. “The north road is being watched. No, they want us to leave them alone so they can spy on the spies. Drop him near Rielle and patrol to Echo Cave as usual. Return through the Castle Gate.”

I’m the package, Jerric realized. That’s how I’ll get to Cloud Ruler Temple. He glanced over at Kjestrid, but her eyes stayed on Asgerd. She knew about the Gold Road Gate. What else does she..?

“You’re on your own from Rielle, Kjellingsson,” Asgerd was saying. She gestured at his guild mates. “None of us needs to know any more.”

Jerric made an attempt to school his features. “Uh. Right.”

“Questions?” Asgerd waited a moment. “Good hunting.”

Jerric took a closer look at the map, checking for new information. All of the markings and notations were familiar. As he expected, Cloud Ruler Temple was not indicated on the map. When he turned the tip of Shamir-Do’s tail was the only thing visible past Gjaever’s bulk as the two reached the door.

“Oh Kjestrid, hang on a moment,” Asgerd called. She picked up a cloth bundle.

Kjestrid took it. “Is this an emergency or can it wait a week? I have a project but I’ll rush yours if you need it.”

Asgerd made a dismissive gesture. “When you get to it.”

Jerric waited at the door for Kjestrid to pass through then fell in beside her. The stairs were built for Nords so they had plenty of elbow room. He eyed the cloth. Is that some other secret for the Blades?

“I’m a mender,” Kjestrid said before he could ask. “But not a mender.”

Jerric pondered that statement as they made the turn at the landing.

“Like you’re a battlemage but not a Legion Battlemage,” she explained.

“Oh,” said Jerric. “You’re not a guild Mender. Like every whore is not a Prostitute.”

Kjestrid gave a belly laugh. “I’ve never thought of it like that. You sure have a way with words.”

Jerric shook his head. Not a good way. “So you work with Jaan?”

“Sometimes.” She lifted Asgerd’s bundle. “Mostly I just take in simple repair work to use up my magicka in the evenings. It returns slowly and I don’t always have much left by then for mending.”

“Do you use spells when you fight?”

“Shields and a little healing when I need to stop a gusher.” She gave him a questioning glance.

“Uh, mostly frost and summoning. I can heal but you’d be better off waiting if it’s complicated. And of course my Woad. And I can mix a good potion if you don’t mind the taste.”

Kjestrid shot him a grin. “Good to know. You don’t look like an alchemist.”

They had reached the ground level. Jerric stopped while they still had a shred of privacy. “Well pretend I didn’t tell you if you don’t care for boasting, but I’m a Master Alchemist. Don’t worry, you don’t have to call me sir or anything.”

Kjestrid’s eyebrows went up.

“Born under the Atronach,” he explained. “Lots of practice. I have my own magicka problems.”

“Ooh,” Kjestrid drew out the word. “You’re one of those.”

Before he could ask her meaning they were swallowed by a group heading for the lower level. Kjestrid had left through the front door by the time he extricated himself.

The main level rapidly filled with militia members spreading bedrolls on the floor. They moved with the economy of exhaustion. Jerric stood in line for the privy then made his way to the barracks, feeling guilty over the bare mattress that awaited him. This morning’s deprivation now seemed like luxury.

The barracks were overfull with bedrolls spread on the floor between every cot. A grey-haired man had the spot in front of Jerric’s cupboard. Jerric gestured for him to get up, then he scooped the man’s blankets onto his bed and tossed his own bedroll to the floor in its place.

“Won’t have to wake you later,” Jerric muttered, opening the cupboard.

The man gave him a grateful nod. He was asleep before Jerric got his socks off.

Jerric stood in another line at the wash basins then headed back to his furs. The group’s mix of races and genders made him keep his drawers on for sleeping. In his experience it was rarely good manners to wander around bare-assed in front of a bunch of Imperials, even if they were all too tired to notice.

The floor made his bruises ache. Small lights glittered as someone comforted themself with a healing spell. Jerric didn’t want to spend the magicka. He closed his eyes and waited for sleep.

Dreams, he thought. What if I have the dreams? He did not want to wake shouting in a room full of strangers.

Jerric thought of Lildereth asleep in one of the Mages Guild’s big beds. In his mind she lay curled on her side with a hand folded under her cheek. Her hair made a soft fan across the pillow. She’d hardly notice if he slipped in beside her.

Her roommate might though. He doubted that Selena would welcome his presence in her bedchamber even if he managed to rest quietly.

Then he pictured the elf padding back across the corridor from Darnand’s chamber, thighs damp and hair mussed after a romp with the Breton. As unlikely as that seemed, once imagined it stuck in Jerric’s mind. He flipped onto his side and punched the floor a few times to distract himself. His sore thigh complained louder than his knuckles.

Fetch it. I’m going. He would be back in the morning before breakfast. All he needed for the short trip were boots and keys. Within moments Jerric found himself standing outside in the cold, the Mages Guild lights glowing onto the snow ahead.

Jerric glanced over at the brothel’s more austere front. It lacked the Mages Guild’s elaborate windows, but bright lanterns indicated that they were open for business.

Best not to think about it.

He took the steps in two leaps and opened the door.

“Well, hello there, handsome.” A blonde Nord woman greeted him from behind a short bar. A crackling fire and numerous oil lamps provided the light of early evening. With no windows it could have been any time of day. The air was warm enough to encourage undressing. It bore the scent of fresh-cut greenery typical of better brothels. Jerric supposed it must be the most effective for covering the smells of their trade.

He grinned. “I’m J… er, Kje… Say, if I was here stepping out on someone, you wouldn’t mention it, would you?”

The Nord placed a finger over her lips.

“All right, then.”

“I’m Bryndis, this is Carla, and that’s Amber on the settee. I know the others would love to make your acquaintance, if you’d care to see them.”

Jerric knew what that meant. “Pleased to meet you. No need to round everyone up. I see plenty I like already.”

Amber held a dulcimer across her lap. She smiled and began to play.

Jerric gave her a friendly nod. He turned his attention to the Breton.

Carla sat with her sandaled feet propped up on low table. Her gown was cut to show off her tight little curves, including a pregnant belly. She wore her dark hair gathered at the back of her head. Shadows danced in the hollows of her throat and collarbones. Jerric was aware that some men were not attracted to gravid females. His thin drawers allowed evidence that he was not among them.

“May I offer you a drink?” Carla rose with fluid grace. About five months along, Jerric decided. I guess she’s still working. Likely not the full menu.

“I’d better show you my purse before we get to the hospitality.” Jerric reached for the dagger he kept in his boot. “Will you take a trade? This wasn’t a stop I planned to make.”

Jerric placed the blade on the bar while the women exchanged a glance. He guessed that his lack of outerwear had been enough of a clue as to his intentions. Or perhaps they questioned his sanity strolling down the street at eleven bells with no shirt or socks.

“I’ll give you twenty Septims, Jerkje,” said Bryndis.

Jerric blinked. Scaly balls, she thinks that’s my name. “All right. What can I get for fifteen? I need some coin left over for a tip.”

“Aren’t you sweet,” Bryndis purred. “Carla? He’s looking at you.”

Carla leaned on the bar. Her posture reminded Jerric of the things he liked best about pregnant women, though his budget would likely not allow a full appreciation.

“I’ll give you a tug for fifteen,” she said. “Tell you what, it’s been a slow night. I’ll throw in a slap on the backside for free, what do you say?”

Jerric grinned. “I say you have yourself a deal, ma’am.”

Carla tilted her head in mock surprise. “Did you just ma’am me? You must really want that spank.”

Jerric and Bryndis spent a moment trading coins while Carla filled a tankard. Guild regulations required that the transaction be made in actual gold to avoid accusations of unfair persuasion. In practice it seemed a useless rule. He doubted that anyone making a trade with Bryndis ever looked at the coins.

Carla made the most of handing him a filled tankard. “Northern Sunshine,” she said, sliding a palm across his belly. “The first pint’s on the house.”

“Uh,” said Jerric. “Can I take it back with me? We’d better, uh, get to it.”

“Right this way, sugar.” Carla took his arm, turning her body to give him a view as they walked. When they entered a corridor she expertly prevented him from crashing into the door frame.

Jerric had a thought. “What was all that slap on the rear talk? Was that a jest or is it code for something?” Northern Sunshine smelled like a hoppy lager. He took a swig.

Carla laughed. “It was a jest. What else did you think you were getting for fifteen Septims?”

Plus tip. “Nothing. It’s just that I’ve been to Skingrad. Now when I don’t know I ask questions.” He considered while he slurped his beer. “Well, I’ll admit I was hoping for a peek.”

Carla opened her top without breaking stride. “A peek and a squeeze come with the tug. But let’s get the door closed first. Unless you like to leave it open.” She smiled up at him. They had stopped outside what he assumed was her chamber. “Are you sure you don’t have anything else tucked away where you had that dagger? I’m authorized to barter.”

Jerric held the door while she ducked under his arm. “Don’t I wish. Say, what will you give me for these drawers?”

Carla declined to make an offer on his undergarments, but Jerric soon decided that was the best twenty Septims he had ever spent. He declared himself a customer for life, wished health and happiness to Carla and her baby, and promptly forgot them both the instant he walked into the Mages Guild.

Ulfe sat facing the door in the middle of the empty lobby. When he approached she reared straight up on her hind legs and gently placed her paws on his shoulders.

“There’s a girl,” Jerric murmured, thumping her on the ribs. He bowed his head so she could sniff the top of his hair. He had no idea why she liked to do that, but in his opinion folk should be allowed to greet in whatever manner they saw fit.

He pulled off his boots halfway down the stairs when he realized the noise they made. Eldritch light shone under Volanaro’s door. Selena’s chamber was dark. So was Darnand’s.

Jerric slipped through Darnand’s door. Ulfe made him jump and stagger when she wiggled through his legs.

“I am awake,” said the Breton. Jerric caught the subtle gleam of a nighteye spell in the dark. Then Darnand uncovered a glow stone. He sat cross-legged on the bed surrounded by books, a charcoal pencil in his hand. Earana’s stolen notes lay in his lap.

Ulfe leaped onto Darnand’s bed. He lifted the more delicate materials to safety while she settled.

Jerric stood on the thick rug for a moment. The air here in the living quarters felt cold compared to the steam-heated brothel. He supposed that mages could supply their own comfort. What the hells am I doing here?

Darnand showed no reaction to Jerric’s appearance. He waved him to the closest bed. “I am ready to cease my endeavors for the night. Give me a moment to open the ink. I should like to hear more of your stories. I believe you intended to next tell me of Svanja and the ghost fox.”

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This post has been edited by Grits: Jul 23 2014, 10:23 AM

[King Of Beasts]

Hi grits


Liz wanted me to tell you that she enjoyed the chapter, would like to hear about the ghost fox one day, and that the Northern Sunshine made her laugh

[McBadgere]

Yes, I believe you intend to tell us all about the Ghost Fox™ over numerous interludes and twenty thousand words...*Sighs contentedly*...Oh...Wait... ...Nevermind... ...

Awesome!!!!...Loves me Jerric...

Funny, clever, brilliant and just a little bit sexeh!!!... ...

But enough about Grits... ...WHAHEY!!...

The story is, as ever, amazing...

From the quiet start with the next day's coming mission, down to the 20 septims' worth of handiwork...An excellent one end of the spectrum to another...End... I'd say... ...Or something, I didn't really think that one through properly... ...Sorry...Pah...

Awesome stuff Gritseh!...

Oh, apologies again, I had read the other bits...I must have been on my idiot days again and not replied...Urgh...Always brilliant stuff though...

Excellent to see it posting again!!...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds most heartily*...

[SubRosa]

“You’re one of those.”
Somehow I bet Jerric gets that a lot...

I see you been reading your History of the Fighters Guild, where it mentions that prostitutes have a guild too. I liked the guild regulation about gold, that was nice touch.

Well I guess this time Jerric wasn't just sparring with another female in the Fighters Guild! Five months? To be honest I am surprised it took Jerric that long, given his history. Even if it was just a tug, and not a drill.

[Acadian]

Secret Agent Jerkje getting briefed on a ‘transfer’ mission up to CRT. I like how the FG and the Blades clearly have some type of arrangement ongoing.

Aww, I like how his big heart is so understated as he gives his bed to the old tired soldier.

Okay, it was a bad idea thinking about Lil while trying to get comfy on the floor. But. . . it was a good idea to pop in at the PG on the way from the FG to the MG. Much better than knocking on Lil’s (and Selena’s) door and asking “Can you fix this?”

[King Coin]

I’m wondering if Jerric is just suspicious, or if there is some Blades involvement here.

Whores and prostitutes!

…it was rarely good manners to wander around bare-assed in front of a bunch of Imperials…


The captain might not want to see that.

I never thought of a healing spell as providing comfort. I know for aches and bruises, but what for just feeling good? It might help ease some tension.

Jerric jealous of Darnand? Hardly seems fair when Jerric’s whored his way from one side of the Gold coast to the other and D gets lucky once.

Typical Oblivion moment, offering to sell worn clothing to a merchant!

Heh. Jerric might not have known why he went to the MG, but Darnand knew.

[ghastley]

Nit first, just to get it out of the way: Jerric's drink changes its name from Northern Sunshine to Double Sunshine. I prefer the former, as double doesn't seem to fit anything.

Jerric and Darnand haven't changed, and neither has Ulfe. I'm always amazed how much character Ulfe shows in so few lines!

I was a bit lost as to what the "stolen notes" were, until I read back a bit. Since Jerric had recently broken into Jeanne's desk, I had to think twice about what they were and where they got them. Could you add a bit more hint, (or post more often, so I don't forget)?

[Darkness Eternal]

What's with it with Blades and packages?

Where Jerric walks, no humanoid with teats and female parts is safe. Hells, he doesn't even have to be near one to be thinking of one.

Jerric thought of Lildereth asleep in one of the Mages Guild’s big beds. In his mind she lay curled on her side with a hand folded under her cheek. Her hair made a soft fan across the pillow. She’d hardly notice if he slipped in beside her.

Whores and prostitutes . . . does one go for free and the other one demands payment?

In any case, even staying in the Guildhall the brothel and the wanton wares called to Jerric like sugar does a khajiit. I see Jerric has a thing for females that are prego judging by what I believed was the stiffening of what's between his legs. A tug for fifteen isn't too expensive even with the backside slap being a mere tease, but who needs that when he gets beautiful sights to see and things to squeeze?

As always we're given a humorous and fun to read chapter on our adventuring friends! Nice work!

[Grits]

Previously: Bruma. Darnand, Lildereth, and Ulfe are staying at the Mages Guild. Jerric is staying at the Fighters Guild posing as Darnand’s hired guard. Jerric learned that he is expected to report to Cloud Ruler Temple during his stay in Bruma. He is instructed to break off from the Fighters Guild’s Echo Cave patrol when they reach Rielle. Kjestrid, Gjaever, and Shamir-Do will finish the job and return without him. Last night Jerric slipped over to the Mages Guild to sleep, stopping on the way to unburden himself at the brothel. Since he didn’t bother to get dressed or bring his coin purse for the short dash, he traded his boot dagger for services.


King of Beasts: Hi Kobby! Thanks for relaying the message.

Elisabeth Hollow: I have to start my notes on Darnand’s book for Jerric. So far there are two Jerric’s Story’s Stories. Thanks, Elisabeth!

McBadgere: Thank you, McB! Abiene’s Hackdirt interlude is also tickling my imagination, but I might put that in the Postcards thread instead. I’m afraid I’ll start it and then take a year to tell the whole thing.

SubRosa: Jerric’s been relying on self-service for about two story weeks since he left Abiene in Chorrol. You’re so right, he would never have made it five months. I should probably add a timeline to the Darnandex. And not just to keep track of the Nord’s assignations. Thank you, SubRosa!

Acadian: Well, Jerric has made some pretty big mistakes with Lil, but at least he didn’t add a hands-free knock on her door at midnight to the list. Yet. Thank you very much for pointing out the exchange with the tired soldier. That was his truest moment in a very Jerric episode.

King Coin: There’s definitely a connection with the Blades and the Bruma Fighters Guild, but he’ll have to get the details from the Blades. And yes, he’s also getting paranoid. I loved a chance to show Darnand being quietly awesome. Thank you, KC!

ghastley: Oops, Double Sunshine is a real IPA from Vermont. Thanks for catching that! I went back and clarified that the notes were Earana’s, but I’m working on Plan B (post more often )(starting now ). Thank you, ghastley!

Darkness Eternal: Lol, Jerric was trying to demonstrate to Kjestrid that he was listening (because he’s observed that women like that) by providing another example, but of course he didn’t quite say what he meant. Thank you, DE!


Next: Morning after. This part was getting quite long, so I chopped it up and now it is a bit short. There’s a Bosmer and Nord joke there somewhere, but I’m a little too scared of Lildereth to make it.

[Grits]

.

Chapter 17: Bruma, Part Eight

Jerric stepped outside under the fading stars of early morning. It had snowed during the night. Street sweepers moved along behind their wide brushes, just starting to clear the cobbled steps and walkways. Jerric huffed out a cloud and looked through it at the quiet city.

First Seed, he thought. In Anvil they’ll be fishing for soft-shelled crabs. He kept his mind from turning to Kvatch.

A woman approached along his terrace from the chapel side of town, footsteps crunching in the fresh snow. Bare-headed and blonde like nearly half of Bruma’s population. Her long strides were already familiar.

“Kjestrid of the Fighters Guild,” Jerric called out to her in greeting.

“Kjellingsson of Anvil.” Kjestrid stopped at the foot of the Mages Guild steps. She took in his morning hair and bare limbs with a smile. “Doing the walk of shame?”

“Uh,” said Jerric. He scratched his head and then his belly while Kjestrid stood back watching. Her smile turned into a grin. “It’s not what you think,” he finally managed.

“You didn’t just spend the night with your boss?”

“Well, yeah, I did.” Jerric joined her on the street level.

“Good, I didn’t take you for a fibber. Want to go for a run? I’m meeting Jaan. We’ll be back in time to dry off and then start our patrol.” Kjestrid reached out and brushed a hand down Jerric’s arm. “Look, we tease, but we don’t mean a thing by it. You could be bedding the whole Elder Council for all I care. We don’t pay much mind to your Heartlander ways up here. A man is judged by his deeds, not by his rings and robes.”

Jerric’s best guess was that she referred to Darnand’s role as his social better, and that was a knot he should avoid untangling. “Yeah,” he said. “Thanks. A run would be great.”

Kjestrid started moving toward the Fighters Guild. Jerric fell into step at her side. “Jaan doesn’t look like much of a runner,” he ventured.

“Neither do bears, but I wouldn’t want to take one on in a foot race.”

Jerric decided not to debate sprints versus distance until he had downed some kahve and formed a better idea whether Kjestrid and Jaan could run his legs off. “Say, what does that orc cook for breakfast?”

Kjestrid looked like she was going to tease again but then changed her mind. “Anyway, it’s like my Ma always said. Det som göms i snö kommer fram vid tö.”

“Yeah,” said Jerric, utterly confused. “Uh, my Ma used to say that too.”

Kjestrid squinted her eyes at him. “Well, now I’ve seen you try to lie. You’ve never heard that expression, have you?”

Jerric shook his head. “I need a nap already. You remind me of my sister.”

“She must be a marvelous person,” Kjestrid laughed. “Let’s get inside.” She trotted up the Fighters Guild steps.

“Apples!” Jerric said to her back. His knowledge of the Nordic language was limited, but he was not above a guess. If she had the breath to talk while they ran he would be in trouble. Kjestrid opened the door for him before he could grab it. “It was something about snow or apples.”

The Fighters Guild main level resembled a kicked-over diggerbee nest as the militia prepared for departure. A steady stream of folk issued forth from the basement stairs. Kjestrid tilted her head toward the kitchen and set off in that direction.

Jerric didn’t need encouragement to follow. The main hall’s air had been breathed too many times. He couldn’t even smell the kahve until they reached the middle of the corridor.

In the kitchen Vito grated potatoes while Bugshat brushed glaze over a tray of pastries. The castle feeds the militia, Jerric remembered, counting sweetrolls. He hoped the lower level would have cleared out before he had to collect his gear.

Kjestrid took three mugs from their pegs and filled them from a kettle hanging near the fire. She moved to a far counter well out of Bugshat’s way to add milk and sugar. While she stirred one cup she shot an inquiring glance at Jerric.

It took a moment for him to catch up with the situation. “Uh, is one of those for me? No thanks. I mean yes, please, no thanks to the…” He gave his head a vigorous, two-handed scratch. “Just black. Thank you, Kjestrid.”

Jaan shouldered past Jerric and accepted his cup from Kjestrid. A look passed between the two of them. Jaan nodded.

“Jaan of the Basement,” Jerric grunted. He took his kahve from Kjestrid’s warm hand while he returned the big smith’s glare.

“Kjellingsson.” Jaan looked Jerric over from uncombed beard to bare knee. His bushy eyebrows made the remark.

“Join you this morning?” Jerric gritted through his teeth. The man put him on edge. He resolved that before he left Bruma Jaan would get a beating. After he got his sword back.

“Quarter hour,” said Jaan.

Kjestrid walked over to chat with Bugshat.

“Loredas,” Jaan muttered into his kahve. He snorted.

Jerric thumped his mug onto the counter. “Right. Let’s go.”

“Outside,” Bugshat growled at them.

Jaan led the way out the back door and through the kitchen yard. Jerric followed, cracking his knuckles. The door swung shut on his heels and stayed closed. It seemed a brawl before breakfast did not gain much notice at the Bruma Fighters Guild.

They circled for the space of a breath. Jerric jabbed at Jaan’s chin and landed a hook to the gut before Jaan plucked him off of his feet and put him face-first into a snowbank. Damn, that was fast. Jaan worked Jerric’s ribs while Jerric thrashed and ate snow. Jaan let him up before Jerric had to swallow too much of it. He had to admit that given the chance he would have kept Jaan down longer.

Should have buckled my boots, Jerric thought, dumping ice out of one. Jaan reached out to steady him when he wobbled. A slap on the shoulder confirmed peace between them. He couldn’t remember why he hadn’t liked the man.

Kjestrid was leaving the kitchen when they returned. “Meet you out front,” she sang over her shoulder.

Yep. Just like Svanja. Jerric gulped his kahve and followed Jaan back through the main hall and down to the living quarters. They parted ways in the lower corridor, Jerric ducking into the now empty barracks and Jaan heading off to chambers unknown.

Before he dressed Jerric packed for the Echo Cave patrol and climb to Cloud Ruler Temple. The two months he had spent alone in the wilderness before he returned to Anvil had taught him how to live without the support of a chuck wagon. His hand axe, bedroll, ground cloth, and skitt shovel were already secured to his pack. He tucked in his skillet and smallest cookpot, leaving room for provisions. Then he readied his arming hose and doublet for a quick change when he returned from morning exercise.

A Bruma spring is the West Weald’s winter, Jerric thought, digging through his clothing for a running kit. Wool socks and his lightest woolen undertunic would wick sweat away and keep him from chilling. His spare leggings needed a wash. They would do for this morning. He laced a quilted vest over the tunic and bent to fasten his boots.

My ‘lucky’ boots, Jerric thought, grinning. The enchantment to enhance his speed would be most welcome this morning. He would like to impress Kjestrid, or at least for once look a little less foolish. The situation was dire. Any kind of cheating would be acceptable.

Jaan stuck his head through the doorway without speaking. That’s my traveling music. Jerric followed him up the stairs and back out into the crisp Bruma morning.