Looks like Nereli is going to make the most of the opportunity before her. Good! She can turn the Knights of the Thorn into a real force, and might even help Farwil grow up.

People really don't like Nords around here. I do like (as in appreciate, not think it is wonderful) that you are displaying the Nords as suffering the brunt of prejudice that is usually assigned to other groups. It is a nice change, and as always it helps illustrate what living under that prejudice feels like.

So Jerric is going to escort Kevin Bacon to Chorrol.

I love his plan to become Vidkun, in order to use his horse. No point letting a good mount go to waste. And he can always count on no one being able to tell one Nord from another.

Well, for once Jerric had a nice quiet journey somewhere. Wait, what am I saying! Of course he could not make it all the way to his destination without some sort of trouble plaguing him. I swear, he is at bad at traveling as Tom Hanks (don't ever get on a plane or boat with that guy, because it's going to crash, or be hijacked, or something...)

Well, by Julianos’ little teapot! Nereli is going to try and make something of that prissy knight club. And I bet she’ll succeed!

Urgh, Burz continues to impress – not!

’He had light blue eyes and a complexion that spoke of store-bought soap and libraries.’
- - A wonderfully creative and evocative description! Then it just gets better as you liken him to a field mouse bringing home an ogre’s breakfast.

A great idea to exploit the ‘all Nords look alike to Dunmer’ phenomenon and claim Vidkun’s horse.

Ahhh, Cevin reminds me of Buffy as he forked over every bit of his gold to the Cheydinhal stable for a precious black mare.

If Jerric decides to close that gate (and I bet he will), Cevin should be placed safely on horse-watching duty well away from the gate.

I'm getting an image in my mind of a rather unimpressed horse giving Jerric a side eyed look here. Though whether that's for the new name, or the very eloquent way of naming, who can say?

Hm, Cevin is a touch on the nervous side.

Might be due to the big, scary Nord, but these two parts jumped out at me, waving their arms and screaming at me to take notice:



I've learned to pay attention to the way you foreshadow things, and whilst this hasn't (yet) been made clear, I'm thinking there might be a little bit more to this story. Is it the shock and fear of what Cevin saw? Or is it more the shock of what he found himself capable of doing in order to survive? His obvious trepidation about being alone with Jerric not overriding his intense desire to not be a part of another caravan. The looking like he wanted to vomit, not shaking, or replaying a visual scene in his head, but a visceral physical reaction suggests to me more of an inner turmoil. I may be reading too much into that, but when you repeat something twice, yet still leave it unsaid, makes me wonder...

Looking forward to finding out more! Oblivion Gate time!

Previously: Jerric and Nereli put a dent in the FG’s wine supply with their late-night chat. Nereli shared her plans to improve the Knights of the Thorn as their Quartermaster. Jerric avoided talking about what was bothering him. In the morning Jerric picked up an escort contract from Burz, collected the lad who needed escorting, and then liberated Vidkun’s horse from the stable by being a Nord and paying the bill. Cevin bought a Cheydinhal Black, one of the fastest, toughest, most reliable horses in Cyrodiil. When they reached the outskirts of Chorrol, they found a Gate to Oblivion. Sorry this update is later than usual. I spent last week walking around Philadelphia, sweating like a Nord at noon on a Sentinel rooftop. Got home last night and I’m still running behind in most departments (including hydration).

ghastley: This Oblivion Gate is near Chorrol’s Statue Gate on the south side of the city. The Gates in Jerric’s world probably won’t line up exactly with the game’s placement and timing. Cevin is a Breton. I had him as both Cevin Geles and Cevin Surilie in my notes. Hopefully only Geles made it into the story. Thank you, ghastley!

SubRosa: I hoped that you would enjoy Nereli seizing the opportunity and changing her own fortunes. That Farwil, though. D’oh! For a career caravan guy, Jerric can’t seem to get from A to B without drama. They are never going to let him back on the roster at Running Wolf Post and Freight! Thank you, Rosa!

Acadian: I thought so much of Buffy and Superian as Cevin emptied his account to buy that glorious horse! If he wasn’t horse-crazy before, he will be now! Jerric completely agrees about the Gate. There is no way he’s going to drag a nervous lad who is under his care into one, but it will be nice to have someone holding the horses. And your bet is good that he’s going in to close it. Thank you, Acadian!

Burnt Sierra: You’re exactly right about the horse side-eye, I was picturing “Smoke-y Smoke” as entirely unimpressed! At least the horse can tell that Jerric is not Vidkun! I cut about half of Cevin and Jerric’s first meeting, so I am delighted to hear that what I hoped to convey came through. Cevin will eventually talk about the events that led him to choose a scary-Nord escort over a much-worse caravan. It will still be spring in the story, but probably late autumn for us when we get to that part. Thank you, Burnt!


For our next chapter we're not only switching to Abiene's point of view, but she's telling it in first person. I hope you'll forgive me for not arguing with her. Before we begin, here's a page from her journal.

Abiene's Interlude Two, or is it Three?

429 of the Third Era, 14 Second Seed

"Come in, Marcellus. Abiene, prepare yourself."

The proctor stood aside as Marcellus entered the examination chamber. The door clicked shut behind them.

My bony rear rested on a bench along the wall of an arched passage deep underneath the Arcane University. I slid down to the end position. The line of fellow students behind me scooted one by one to fill the space. We were silent, hoping and hoping not to hear sounds from the testing chamber.

I was about to stand for my final examination in my primary field: Restoration magic. I had passed all of my other tests, demonstrating at least proficiency in every school of magic that the Mages Guild taught. Inside the chamber I would find a long table, housing a representative from every school. We students did not know who would be present for any particular exam. I composed a brief prayer to Lady Dibella that Curciel, newly promoted Master in my school of Restoration, would not have a seat at the table today.

Curciel possessed what I found to be a typical Altmer's view of humans as uppity pretenders whose short lifespans suit us to subservient lives. She reserved her sharpest disdain for those who dared question her. Though she far outranked me, I had done so at every opportunity. Then Curciel received her Mastery. Pride, ever my companion, was not my friend.

My Lady Dibella would scarcely concern herself with scholarly matters or anything to do with luck. Whoever was going to be at the table was already seated. Praying for someone else was tantamount to wishing for something to befall them. Before that caravan of thought went any further, the door opened. Marcellus emerged, stone-faced.

The proctor consulted her clipboard. "Come in, Abiene. Othos, prepare yourself." She held the door open.

I was too nervous to do more than nod at her. These examinations were pass or fail. While it would seem that I should be assured a pass, some examiners took a student with advanced skills or particular talents as a challenge to their sovereignty. I was both highly skilled and naturally gifted. The school of Restoration was broad, and my knowledge was deepest in the areas of healing. I was not confident of a ready pass.

Inside the room I saw Dominus, the Dean of Destruction, Juliana from the Illusion school, Dro'Mari from Alteration, my dear friend Gantos representing Mysticism, Walks-In-Shadow of Conjuration, Dran the Necromancer… then my eyes were drawn over the rest to the center of the table. Of course she had taken the seat in the middle.

Curciel. She sat easily in the large chair, chin propped on the back of one hand.

Raminus Polus, our Dean of Undergraduate Studies, spoke. "Please state your name."

"Abiene Metonne, standing for my practical exam in Restoration."

"Abiene," said Curciel. "You may take your position. Goodness, isn't this your last exam? You must know where you can go by now."

I stepped onto the spot that should be stained with the sweat of a thousand shaking mages, but that was as neatly swept and scrubbed as the rest of the floor's paving stones.

Don't let her get to you. You can perform any spell that she requires. I willed my hands, my chin, and my voice not to shake. "I am ready, Master Curciel."

Curciel gestured with her narrow, golden hand. The proctor opened a door at the side of the chamber.

Two Imperials emerged, wearing the University's shortened battle robes. Between them they dragged a bound, struggling goblin. Its face was swollen on one side, its shirt torn and bloodied.

The violence of the situation sent sick tendrils through my gut. Who had beaten this goblin? A classmate? Did they mean for me to heal it?

Once the guards withdrew, Curciel flicked her fingers at me. "Kill it."

The Novice level of the spell was simply called Absorb Health. Advanced versions had more sinister appellations. I had used it in class on summoned creatures, but I had never killed any living thing. Numb, I cast the spell.

In a blink the goblin was obscured by a red haze. Its life energy rushed into mine through my outstretched hands. Hot joy churned in my chest, mixed with a keening horror. I heard my victim's groan along with a shriek. The cry had come from my throat.

I broke the spell. The goblin lay on its side, face turned away from me. Its arms still twitched against the bindings. I knelt and reached for the pitiful creature, my hands filled with healing light.

A bolt of lightning sent its body spinning into the wall.

"Failed," said Master Curciel. Shock energy still danced across her palm.

I felt frozen in place, unable to draw a breath. The magical light in my hands turned from golden to livid red.

Raminus Polus made a small sound, drawing everyone's attention. He finished his notations with a flourish, then tapped his stylus against the quartz tablet. A copy of his writing would appear on a linked page in his office. An assistant may already have the document in their hands, ready to place it in the stack on top of Marcellus's exam record.

"She passes," Raminus said. "Tamriel needs more healers."

Hah! Shove it, Curciel!

Curciel? The name alone sounds excruciating.

Dominus, the Dean of Destruction. I hate to say it, but this sounds like the ring name of a professional wrestler!

Well, that was disgusting. So apparently being willing to commit murder without question is a requirement for becoming a Mage? Well apparently not everyone there felt so, since Raminus passed Abiene. Granted, if it was a test to see if she would not kill the goblin, then I would have more respect for them. But given that no one blinked an eye at Cruciel killing the goblin, that is clearly not the case.

And yes, goblins are monsters. But that does not make their torture and outright murder ethical. In fact, reducing others to the status of being monsters is how all genocides take place. It looks like Cruciel wants to see only fascists in the guild, who will not hesitate to murder whomever is conveniently labeled as a monster next.

Wonderful job of portraying Abienne’s nervous concerns and their rationale.

Curciel clearly had a good idea of Abienne’s ‘weakness’ by asking her to kill a helpless and pre-bloodied goblin, when a simple summoned scamp or skeleton would have readily tested her ability to cast the desired absorb health spell. As a true healer, Abienne balked at the request.

I’m glad Raminus has the wisdom to understand the mentality of a healer and pass Abienne. His next order of business should be to fire Curciel – or at least remove her from anything to do with the school of restoration!

I enjoyed the subtle additions you made to what the game provides – more practical robes for battlemages and having the school of necromancy represented at the table. It was many years ago that Abienne reshaped Buffy’s thinking about necromancy and the positive role it can play in healing. Specifically, in restoring dead tissue.