SubRosa: What is steel compared to the hand that wields it? I think they’ll avoid shrines on that Prince’s summoning day from now on, if only to skip the latrine experience. I could easily see Teresa ignoring the daedric shrines, since she is so connected with the aedra. I put a lot of thought into the Green Pact JF Version before I came up with something I could work with. Thank you for your words about Lildereth’s bow! I wanted something low-tech and magical but not enchanted for her, which would fit her tribal early life.

haute ecole rider: Thank you for your endorsement of Lildereth’s Green Pact Lite. She has things about herself that she thinks the fellows will find difficult to accept, but she wants to be truthful. Of course, some of it is none of their business. I definitely wanted to keep the Bosmer among Valenwood’s apex predators, but I also wanted them to have more of a relationship with the trees. I figured if the trees give them shelter, then why not fruit? It’s not hurting them, and it’s another way the trees can care for the elves.

King Coin: I love that part of Cyrodiil too, but Jerric is a big sky man. I don’t think he is going to enjoy Leyawiin. “Waster” is just about the worst thing Lildereth could call a person, so I’d say it was the thoughtlessness that just pushed her over the edge. She can deal with seeing wood harvested for timber in Cyrodiil, but the shrine is in the forest, not in a woodlot. I think of it as similar to how a lot of folks will eat a hamburger, but would lose it if they saw someone slaughter a baby deer. Speaking of gross, here’s a screenshot for you. Jerric tries the spell “Summon Ketchup.” Thank you, KC!

Acadian: Thank you for your kind words, Acadian! Your approval of Lildereth means a lot. Ulfe was particularly fun to write in this episode. I started out knowing how she looks and hunts, and let her sort of fill in the rest. Turns out she is the dog version of Jerric.

mALX: My affection for Maxical and Aravi is the reason for that Khajiit! He started off as an Imperial. I’m so glad you liked him. I love your insight into Jerric and Lildereth. She’s also unusual in that no matter how much he admires her, he’s not considering some far-fetched scheme to get into her pants. Kind of a new thing for him. Thank you, mALX!


Where we are: Jerric, Darnand, Lildereth, and Ulfe visited the shrine of Meridia on the day before her summoning day and found the shrine crowded with daedra worshippers. Darnand and Lildereth managed to speak to the Prince thanks to Darnand’s inexhaustible supply of undead detritus. They got away from the crowds before the daedra party. Lildereth shared some things about herself that evening at the campfire. Now they’re headed to Skingrad.



Chapter 13: Skingrad, Part Three

The sun was high enough not to glare in their eyes by the time Skingrad’s spires came into view. Darnand rode Banner, Jerric walked leading Flash, and Lildereth perched on Kip with one knee bent over the saddle. Ulfe trailed along behind, endlessly sniffing.

When they reached the Gold Road earlier that morning, Lildereth had dropped her burdens and abruptly stripped to her skin, to the men’s startled appreciation. Before they could close their mouths she had slipped into a green gown and twisted her hair into a becoming arrangement. Jerric decided to walk for awhile, allowing himself a little more room in the trousers. Lildereth accepted a ride to spare her city shoes. What little guidance Kip needed, she provided with her voice. Jerric found much to admire in her quiet way with animals.

The distant view made Jerric think of the last time he had walked into the sun along this road. Before was the only way he could think of it. He turned his thoughts until he found something he could cling to.

“There’s a Dunmer alchemist in town you should meet, Darnand,” he said. “I think she’s a necro-feeler.” Jerric glanced over at his friends.

Both of them looked blank. “A what?” asked Darnand.

“A necro-feeler. I guess that has to do with dead things. She asked me if I knew the fine for necro-feeling in Cyrodiil.”

Lildereth burst into giggles. Darnand’s eyebrows went up. “Is it possible that she said necrophilia?”

“Yeah,” said Jerric. “Anyway, I figured you’d know what it was about, with your, uh, interests.” Darnand pinched the bridge of his nose. Lildereth shook with silent spasms. “What’s with the elf?”

“I expect that her imagination has carried her away for the moment,” said Darnand.

“Fresh zombie,” gasped Lildereth, pointing at Darnand with a trembling hand.

“Well, he could use a bath,” Jerric said uncertainly.

“Thank you for the recommendation, Jerric.” Darnand shot a look at Lildereth. “I think it prudent that we avoid her, at least until we slaughter her possible associates at Howling Cave.”

“Oh,” said Jerric. “Right. Well, there’s another alchemist at the West Weald Inn, living in the basement. There’s not one at the mages guild.”

“I do not require an alchemist,” said Darnand. “However I suppose you will want to find a brothel. Shall we meet you later at the guild hall?”

Jerric suppressed a shudder. “No, I don’t think we can spare the coin. This is a sophisticated town for all of the pastures and vineyards around it. And watch yourself if you climb into bed with one of the local mages. You might start out on top and wind up in the middle. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, I just don’t want you to be, you know. Surprised.”

The dismay on Darnand’s face told Jerric that he had said both too much and too little. “I do not know,” said Darnand. “I do not know in the least. To what do you refer?”

Jerric had never heard such a belly laugh from a wood elf before. This seemed to be a good time to change the subject. He glanced up the road for inspiration. “Look, sheep! Let’s talk to that Bosmer.”

They had reached the part of the county where much of the land was fenced for pastures, fields, and vineyards. The Gold Road was wide enough here for two shepherds to pass without mingling their flocks. One such fellow approached, keeping his two dozen or so charges politely on his side. Where Lildereth dressed in green made Jerric think of every growing thing, this mer was brown as dirt from head to toe, apart from his wide smile.

“Hail, Bosmer,” Jerric called. “How does the day greet you?”

The Bosmer immediately put the lie to his drab appearance. “It is all in the nose,” he declared. “Yes, of course, it is also in the mouth! The fragrance, the sharp, startling odor... the sheep's cheese... ambrosia! Nectar! Yes. I am the Shepherd, Yourass. And it is my sheep, and my deft hand and sharp nose, which produce the glorious cheeses of Skingrad.”

For a stunned moment Jerric couldn’t speak. “I’m Jerric,” he managed. “Pleased to meet you.” A glance at Darnand showed that the Breton was also struggling. Jerric felt a guffaw building inside him, and began to panic. He had no wish to be rude to this enthusiastic little mer.

“His name is Uuras,” Lildereth murmured, her eyes still bright with humor.

“Thank the gods,” gasped Darnand.

“Where can you get sheep's cheese but in Skingrad?” Uuras warbled. “And why? Because only in Skingrad is Uuras, Master of Sheep's Cheese! I can also teach you a bit of athletic conditioning, if you can spare the time. Why, you ask? Because I am the mountain sheep's brother, and I must dash with him from crag to crag!”

Jerric’s mind took off in multiple directions. Sheep’s cheese was widely available in Cyrodiil, produced in nearly every county. He was unsure if Cheese Master Uuras would be angered or disappointed by that news, so he chose not to share it. He thought that the piercing quality of the shepherd’s voice might be an advantage in the heavy foliage of his native Valenwood, but in the open air it could quickly become tiresome. Maglir’s voice had a similar effect inside a tavern, he remembered. He began to understand Lildereth’s attraction to the towering but taciturn Merandil. On the other hand, Jerric found Thaurron’s company delightful, and his voice even lyrical. A quick reflection put Uuras and Maglir in the minority of Bosmer, in Jerric’s experience. Maglir may still be at the Fighters Guild in Skingrad. Perhaps Jerric could pick up a fast contract while he was in town. Also, he wondered to what crags Uuras was referring. Certainly not any in County Skingrad. But still…

“He might teach you a thing or two,” Jerric said to Darnand.

His friend looked surprised. “I am satisfied with my present trainer.”

While they stood chatting, the sheep had crowded across the lane. Lildereth slipped off Kip’s back and began to gently encourage them out of the way. “It has been a pleasure to meet you, Uuras,” she trilled.

The shepherd grinned so hard that it overflowed his face into a nimble little leap. “And you, sister Bosmer!” But he found himself addressing Lildereth’s back as she strode toward the city.

A stop at the Grateful Pass Stables put the horses at leisure. Tilmo helped them stow their packs and gear, so they entered the city lightly laden. The sun on the tall stone buildings made Jerric feel a little warm, and it deepened the shadows even at this hour of the morning. Few trees or planters graced the streets. Summer or winter, the city looked much the same.

He didn’t feel like talking as they made their way to the guild hall in Hightown. Lildereth was also silent. Druja confronted them in the entry hall, or perhaps that was her manner of greeting. Druja the Disappointed, Jerric silently named her. She even made Ulfe’s ears droop.

“I am Darnand Penoit, Guild Associate,” Darnand said to her. “We have met before, though I do not expect you to remember me.” He gestured to his friends. “Allow me to—”

Druja interrupted him with a flutter of her own hand. “Yes. I do not know the Bosmer.”

“Lildereth,” she said. “Journeyman. When I last visited this guild hall, Aelindor was chapter head.”

“You will find things have changed,” Druja said in her sour tone. “Are you passing through, or do you have business here?”

“Jerric and I are seeking recommendations from this chapter,” said Darnand. “We—”

“Oh, who cares. See Adrienne for that. If you can convince her to take her nose out of whatever book she’s reading.” The Argonian gave Lildereth a narrow look.

The mer returned it. “My business is my own.”

“We require accommodations,” Darnand said quickly. “Carahil suggested that you are the one to approach with such matters.”

Druja made an annoyed little hiss. “The common quarters are full of mages traveling for South Winds Prayer. However, there is an unassigned chamber with two spare beds in the third floor living quarters. It was once occupied by Vigge the Cautious. You may use it until Adrienne objects. How you arrange yourselves is none of my concern.” The hall seemed to lighten when Druja stalked away into the adjoining chamber. They heard a door slam.

“I wonder if Argonians are completely immune to poison,” Lildereth mused.

“You two can have the beds. I’m all right with the floor,” said Jerric. He could get his bedroll from the stable easily enough. He hoped they could recapture their companionable mood.

“You sleep better with your arms around someone,” Lildereth told him. “Tonight it’s Darnand’s turn. He’s going to try to switch with Ulfe.”

The dog perked up at the sound of her name. Jerric wondered if Lildereth was jesting. Darnand’s twitching lip said that she was.

“I’ll sleep with the hound,” Jerric announced. “I might get some of my fleas to jump onto her. There’s more—”

“Yes, we know,” said Lildereth. “There’s more hair on your balls than in all of High Rock and Valenwood combined.” Lildereth’s eyes were bright again.

“I was going to say on my knuckles. You have a filthy mind.”

“I will share a bed with Jerric,” Darnand said bravely. “Though I would ask that this once you might sleep in your drawers.”

“You don’t have to worry, I’m not going bare into Vigge’s old bed.” They both gave him incredulous looks. “Don’t you two have standards? Besides, this one time I woke up in—”

“No,” Darnand interrupted. “Just, no.”

“You’re frightening Ulfe,” said Lildereth. “I’ll share with Darnand. Neither of us will kick off the blankets.”

Darnand picked up his pack. “We should claim the empty chamber immediately, then seek out Adrienne. If memory serves, it may be some time before she will consent to speak with us.”

Lildereth started toward the stairs.

“Good plan,” said Jerric. “I need to speak with Druja first.”

Darnand snorted. “May we both receive the Blessings of Zenithar before our respective trials.”

A tap on Druja’s door brought her back into the side chamber.

“I took some magicka gems the last time I was here,” he told her, nodding at the counter where Vigge had kept his supplies. “Adrienne said to do it. I woke her up.”

“Adrienne would never remember. You made a mistake by mentioning it to me.”

“Uh…” Jerric wasn’t sure what she meant. “I’d like to pay for them. What do I owe?”

“How should I know?” Druja held out a scaled palm.

It took Jerric a moment to realize he should just hand over some gold and forget about it. Carahil and Sigrid do run clean halls, he thought, picking through his purse for the thick fifty-Septim coins. There’s a lot more wrong here than playing reluctant bedfellows.

“Letters,” Druja rasped as she tucked away his coins.

“Huh?”

Druja stepped to the lectern and lifted the lid. After a moment’s rummaging, she produced a handful of envelopes and scrolls. “Your friends have letters.”

Jerric took the bundle and jogged up the stairs, through the library, and up another set of stairs to the richly appointed living quarters. Darnand’s voice drew him to the chamber that had been Vigge’s. Two beds now graced the chamber, both of them generous in size and luxurious of bedding, though only the burgundy coverlet matched the carpets and draperies. There were more than enough cupboards and chests to accommodate all of their belongings, even though some of them were already full. Jerric wondered if Vigge had brought any of his silks and velvets to his new life in Kvatch.

Darnand had already spread papers over the desk and pillaged one of the bookcases. Lildereth was fiddling with towels at the wash stand. Jerric could imagine the small dining table laden with sheep’s cheese and wine bottles. This visit was beginning to show promise.

“Mail!” he announced, handing the bundle to Darnand.

The Breton quickly sorted the stack. “Most of this is refuse,” he remarked. “I do not require carriage insurance. I cannot imagine why Carahil sent it forward.” Then his face lit with surprise. “I have a letter from Abiene!” Lildereth took the rest while he opened it.

Jerric had to admit that such a poor correspondent as he had no reason to hope for a letter. Still, just hearing her name had opened a pit in his stomach. His palms felt damp, and his pulse had quickened. He tried to tell himself it was foolishness. They had no promises between them. At this very moment she could be squirming under some other Nord, clutching his back and calling him Jerric.

“This one’s for you,” said Lildereth, passing him an envelope. She was already opening a scroll.

Jerric turned toward the window with a smile cracking his face. He lingered over the sight of his name written in that confident, feminine hand. He closed his eyes and tried to catch her scent before he unfolded the page.

The Chapel of Stendarr
Chorrol

6 Morning Star, 433



My love,


I cannot write what is in my heart. Only that when I think of you, I am stronger.

Every day my hopes come to life under my hands. Each night brings me closer to the next time we touch.

I am yours.


Abiene

.

I just love the idea of Cyrodilic junk mail! What's next? Sponsored spell effects?

This fireball brought to you by ...

Between the "necrofeelers," Uuras, and Jerric's inner dialogue in the Mages Guild - this chapter had me in whoops !!! Then the letters from Abiene; poor Jerric and Darnand. I always worry that one wrong word in a letter from Abiene may be a splinter that wedges such too great friends apart. Awesome Write !!!

What a lovely and rich episode this has been!

First Lildereth's catching the men off guard by her sudden wardrobe change. Somehow I am put in mind of clotheshorse Buffy. Wonder if she does the same thing? TBH, at first I was looking for water.

Then the Uuras/Yourass/Uranus/Youranus banter had me fighting to keep my tea off my keyboard! That one totally caught me off guard!

Then the discussion of who shall get the bed and who shall get the floor (with Ulfe as the only innocent bystander in all this) had my head spinning from lack of oxygen (laughing, you know).

Finally closing with the letter(s) from Abiene really put the icing on the cake here! Loved, loved, loved what she wrote to J - short and sweet, but with no doubt about her true feelings.

My big problem with using the Daedra is that they took no part in creating the world, so nothing in it can reflect or symbolizes them. They should be utterly alien beings, completely outside of Nirnish experience. The reverse would also be true. Humans, elves, tailed folk, etc... would be just as incomprehensible and unknowable to them. It should be like comparing Cthulhu to people, and those of us who have read Lovecraft know how that works out.

But Bethesda wants them to be gods worshiped alongside the Nine. Critters people call up once a year as part of a festival on that deity's summoning day. They are given symbols and spheres of influence, Nightmares, destruction, madness, plots, etc... But those symbols should all be Aedric in nature, not Daedric, as they are the product of Aedric energy. Or at least of Lorkhan's, as his heart is the heart of the world. For example, Azura's symbols are the moon and the star. But the moons are Lorkhan's dead body, and the stars are holes ripped in the fabric of reality by the fleeing Aedra. So neither has anything to do with Azura.

This has given me some rather radical thoughts about the nature of the Daedra Princes, which I am still mulling over whether or not to use. If so, it will reconcile these logical difficulties I am having, and I will probably start putting them to more use in the TF. Tadrose makes an excellent character to convey some of these ideas, as she is from Morrowind.

Anyway, back to the JF. How nice of those wood elves to change clothes in broad daylight! Teresa needs to meet more girls from Valenwood... I loved that Lildreth rode the rest of the way to save her shoes. Or was it to save her feet from walking miles in high heels?

Necro-feeling! How perfect! Of course that would be something Darnand is interested in!

That was thoughtful of Jerric to warn the others about the proclivities of the local mages. But the way he turned the conversation to sheep afterward made me wonder about the proclivities of Nords...

“You’re frightening Ulfe,”
Not just Ulfe!

I see what Jerric thought about there being more wrong at Skingrad then just the sleeping arrangements. I think you portrayed the ramshackle nature of the Skingrad guild hall quite well. Not only an absentee leader, but a second who just doesn't care.

And finally mail. How sweet. Now we get to see the last letter of Abiene's, that was not in the old chapter.

I loved how Lildereth was struck to just change clothes on the spot! What a perfectly ‘Lildereth’ thing to do! Buffy does that, but has learned that those around her are more comfortable if she disappears via an invisibility spell for a minute while she does so.



Necro-what?!? I loved this!

’The dismay on Darnand’s face told Jerric that he had said both too much and too little.’
Masterfully put!

“Hail, Bosmer,” Jerric called. “How does the day greet you?”
You and I have a pact to think of each other whenever we use that greeting that both of us like so very much.

The entire sequence with Uuras was positively lyrical. What a perfect blend of clever and natural dialogue delightfully augmented by Jerric’s wide-ranging ruminations.

“I wonder if Argonians are completely immune to poison,” Lildereth mused.’
Yes, that's our Lildereth.

What a beautiful letter! So much said with so few words.

Thanks for that wonderful image of Jerric chowing down on some rat.
-------
As if we needed further proof that Lildereth was a Bosmer! Sounds like she’s expecting to meet someone. Is this why she’s been on edge?

Oh good reminder of Jerric’s family. I find it easy to forget with his attitude that he’s suffering.

That whole section with the necrophilia was hilarious but this line really topped it for me:

“Well, he could use a bath,” Jerric said uncertainly.


I think Uuras will fit in the Shivering Isles quite well. He seems to share many traits with the residents of mania.

I wonder what Jerric is going to think of the letter. That’s some heavy stuff, is he prepared for it?

Wonderful chapter!

How the hell did I miss 3 of them?... ...

*Shrug*...Sorry about that...

Fantastic writing...Much enjoying...

I hadn't thought about the Daedric shrines meself...Definately something in need to think about...

Cheese!!... ...Excellent... ...

Nice one... ...

Yeah...So worth the wait for that review eh?... ...

...

ghastley: Thanks, I'm glad I left that in. I was afraid it might sound too silly. How about ID tags for the undead: If lost, please return to :____________

mALX: Thanks, mALX! I think they were all ready to lighten the mood after Kvatch. You’re right about Abiene’s letters. Darnand has a lot invested in both of them, and he doesn’t seem like someone who could just brush off such a major disappointment.

haute ecole rider: I thought of Buffy, too. These girls are not bothered by silly Imperial social conventions. Of course, Lildereth would point out that her quick change was shielded by three horses, and the guys had the whole empty road to look at. From Jerric’s POV all we get is, “Naked chick!” Thanks, I’m glad you enjoyed it. And yes, Abiene finally made up her mind.

SubRosa: Those Valenwood girls are as unselfconscious as spriggans. It’s a shame to waste cute shoes on walking. Plus she can see much better from on top of a horse, especially when there is a Nord loose on the road. I can’t help but contrast the Skingrad and Bravil guilds, both in their buildings and the attitudes of their leaders. Thank you, SubRosa!

Acadian: I thought of you throughout this very Buffy episode! What a lovely Ode to the Woodsisters, and how very true. Thank you for sharing it! I seem to recall a furiously blushing Daenlin once instructed a young Buffy not to drop trou in the presence of her male friends. The lads are glad that he didn’t tell Lildereth. It was fun to show what goes on in Jerric-think, as well as a few of his blond moments. Any more than that would be exhausting! Thank you for your kind words, Acadian!

King Coin: Poor Jerric didn’t have a clue throughout much of this episode. Of course Lildereth flashing them didn’t help his focus. I’m glad I put in that mention of his ongoing sadness. He has definitely not gotten over losing his family. He’s pretty much riding a little raft of cheer on a sea of grief most of the time. Jerric would love to move to Chorrol, marry his girl, and get busy producing a tribe of curly-haired half-Nords. Pretty soon he would be pestering her to cut back on her hours at the chapel, and she would want to know if he thought he was going out with his friends from the Fighters Guild again this weekend. But there’s this dang Oblivion crisis… Oh, Lildereth was just waiting to get out of the brush before she put on a dress. Maybe she will meet someone, though. Glarthir? Thank you, KC!

McBadgere: Your comments are most appreciated, at any time. I am fluent in emoticons and ellipses. I’m glad you’re enjoying it! Thanks, McB!

Where we are: Skingrad. Jerric and Darnand are seeking recommendations for the Mages Guild.



Chapter 13: Skingrad, Part Four

Jerric reached Bleak Flats cave after less than an hour’s walk from Skingrad, including the time he took along the way filling his pockets with flax seeds. His assignment from Adrienne was to bring the Bosmer Erthor back to the guild hall so that she could consult with him. After being treated dismissively by all of Skingrad’s mages and half of the domestic staff, Jerric finally discovered that Adrienne had sent him away to conduct his work in a local cave. It took him more time to learn Erthor’s whereabouts than it did to actually walk there. No one seemed to know how long the Bosmer had been missing, but they agreed that the guild hall had been quiet without him. It was incomprehensible to Jerric that Adrienne had not sent someone earlier to check on the welfare of one of her mages.

A wall of mortared stone and a closed wooden door blocked the cave’s entrance. Jerric guessed that Erthor locked or bolted the door from the inside while he was in residence. A shove confirmed his theory.

“Erthor?” Jerric called and knocked, then pounded and shouted. Even Lildereth can’t open a lock that isn’t there, he thought. With a certain degree of smugness, he reached for his axe.

Inside the cave, darkness and a rotten smell greeted him. Daylight illuminated the near walls and downward sloping ceiling, but not the far recesses. He fervently hoped that the stink was not coming from Erthor. Jerric slipped on his ring, and a faint pink glow showed him something moving below with a familiar lurching motion. His gut told him it was a zombie.

Jerric heaved the door back over the opening. If the Bosmer still lived, it would not do to have him run out like a rabbit while Jerric was distracted by a fight. Adrienne and Darnand had already buried themselves in some research project. Weeks could pass before they thought to check on him, living on raw mushrooms while he searched the cave system for Erthor.

Vigge’s teaching was still fresh in Jerric’s mind. He took a moment to shift his gear into readiness, anxious to test his new knowledge of elemental destruction. His torchlight showed him a narrow path along the cave’s floor, smooth and solid through areas of loose and jagged rock. Jerric smiled to himself as he drew fire into his hand. Here was also a chance to improve his footwork.

He wasn’t smiling any more by the time the seventh zombie toppled to the ground. Sweat soaked his hair, and his mouth felt coated in zombie smoke. The leather over his chest was darkened where a Tongue of Fire spell had flared back toward him close enough to singe it. He stepped past the smoldering corpse and moved in deeper.

A row of torches stood across an opening at the back of the cavern, each held upright by its own little pile of rocks. The smell of stale urine and worse told Jerric that someone had been careless with their slop jar. Doubtlessly it was the Bosmer-sized life sign pacing back and forth in a chamber beyond. Relief eased the tension in his neck. Jerric slipped off his ring and strode between the torches.

He was expecting a bare-bones work area, but this space resembled a snug study more than a cave. Tapestries lined the walls, and rugs softened the floor. Candelabras chased away every shadow. Niches cut into the rock made one wall a library and another a dressing chamber. Only the bed was disappointing, a simple pallet on the floor. Jerric realized that everything in the cavern could have been trundled in on a handcart.

In the middle of the chamber stood a wood elf, shaking in his pointy little shoes. His mouth opened and closed without a sound. That’s the prettiest male I’ve ever seen, thought Jerric.

“Erthor?”

“You... how did you get in here?”

“I’m Jerric. I’m here to rescue you.” Jerric could imagine Lildereth’s reaction to that announcement.

The mer’s wits seemed to return in a rush. “Are the creatures gone? I heard a fight. Horrible things, and something was killing them! What could be worse than zombies, I wondered? Perhaps whatever it is will not find me all the way back here! And then I remembered the torches! And then you did find me!”

“Adrienne sent me.”

“I put the torches there to keep them at bay,” Erthor continued on the same breath. “They shy away from fire. I want to get out of here. I’ve been trapped here for days! I didn’t dare move a muscle! I’ve barely slept!”

“Well, I guess you can come with me now.”

“Are you sure they’re all gone? I can leave the cave? You’re heading back to Skingrad, aren’t you? And I could come with you? Oh, thank you! I’m ever so grateful!”

“Yeah. Is there anything you need to bring? I’ll give you a hand.”

“You’re just too kind!” The Bosmer shoved a bulging sack at Jerric and hopped behind the desk before he could blink.

“Moving out?” Jerric asked, hefting the bag.

“Only my soiled linens.” Erthor was already stuffing papers into a satchel. “I need Adrienne’s notes! And a few of my books. And…”

The laundry sack was large enough to hold a reasonable person’s entire wardrobe, more if they wore child-sized clothing. Jerric shook his head. Mages.

When he was ready to leave, Erthor cast a light spell and put out the torches. He led Jerric up a narrow passage to the side entrance Jerric had found earlier from the other side, blocked by a stone panel. The turn of a wheel opened the way, and they followed the path up through the caverns.

“Did you see who put those zombies in your cave?” Jerric asked. “If there are necromancers about, you shouldn’t come back here until I take care of them.” Howling Cave was on the other side of Skingrad, but it could be the same group with multiple hideouts.

“Well…” Erthor patted his hair, brushed off his sleeves, then smoothed his already neat doublet.

Jerric stopped walking so that he would have to answer. “Out with it, Bosmer.”

“I was working with summoning,” Erthor explained, glancing nervously into the dark. His face pleaded for something. Understanding? “I began exploring my new theory with scamps, some time ago. That’s how I ended up being sent here. My experiments sometimes…”

“Don’t work?” Jerric offered. “Explode?”

“Go awry. The scamps persisted in this realm long after my strength failed. I could not control them.” He wrung his hands. “Do you suppose we could converse as we walk? I’m anxious to return to the safety of Skingrad.”

Jerric started walking along the path again. Erthor trotted beside him.

“I adjusted my spell, and began to work with zombies instead,” said the mer. “I thought that my failure resulted from the nature of my summoned daedra. It’s easier to bend the will of an undead summoning, since it’s already the will of a mortal imposed upon a…” Erthor seemed to notice Jerric’s eye roll. “But to reach the point of the story, my efforts with the zombies were successful. Too successful. Instead of summoning them to my location and binding them for a time, I was moving them here bodily. I must have been transporting something from the cave to replace them, because I left no void to call them back where they belong. Before I realized what was happening, I had summoned seven.”

“I wondered how they got in. Since their remains are still here, I didn’t think they could be summonings.” Jerric had a thought. “So you’re saying that you moved seven zombies from somewhere, and I killed them?”

Erthor nodded, smiling uncertainly.

“Do you know what this means?” Jerric grabbed the mer by the arm to halt him. “We took those fetchers out of the fight! Ha! Some necromancer is really pissed right now.” Jerric dropped the sack and rolled his shoulders while he filled his hand with fire. “Come on, what are you waiting for? Summon another one. Let’s kill it!”

Erthor’s big brown eyes popped open even wider. “You are a madman!” he squeaked. The elf took off running as if shot from a bow, leaving Jerric groping for the laundry bag by the light of his flare.

Jerric caught up to him as Erthor struggled with the heavy exterior door. “Calm down,” he said, lifting it aside. “I’ll walk you back to the guild hall. No more zombies.”

Erthor didn’t relax until they reached the vineyards. Then he accepted Jerric’s waterskin, bread, cheese, and an apple, chatting away between bites. In addition to Erthor’s own research with summoning, it sounded as if he and Adrienne were engaged in some kind of joint project. The details were incomprehensible to Jerric. He debated using his Arcane Well for the rest of the conversation.

When Erthor paused for a breath, Jerric glanced over at him. Even after days underground terrorized by zombies, the Bosmer had a pleasant demeanor and a spring in his step. His hair looked silky and thick, and he had a decent set of shoulders, unlike many mages. Jerric still didn’t know how Lildereth’s taste ran, other than not to Nords. This Erthor might have a chance with her. Gods knew she could use a tumble.

“So Erthor, are you single? I mean, I know you live in a cave. But are you seeing anyone?”

Erthor gave Jerric a look of abject horror.

“No!” Jerric said quickly. “I have a friend. She—”

The mer looked on the brink of fleeing again.

Jerric sighed. “Never mind.”

It was incomprehensible to Jerric that Adrienne had not sent someone earlier to check on the welfare of one of her mages.
As you said, the difference between the this as Kud-Ei's guild hall are startling. For some reason whenever a Breton woman becomes the leader of a Mages Guild hall, they become distracted air-heads.

Jerric should have brought Darnand along. Zombies are right up his alley after all. Hopefully Jerric will carve up some rotting flesh to take back to Darnand for his 'necessities'.

and his mouth felt coated in zombie smoke.
Ewww, you just had to make me imagine the stench of burning zombie!

That’s the prettiest male I’ve ever seen, thought Jerric.
Uh oh, I think Jerric has spent too much time in lockups... Abiene might have some competition. Especially with Erthor shoving his bulging sack at Jerric.

“Come on, what are you waiting for? Summon another one. Let’s kill it!”
For once it is the Nord who is mad, and not the Bosmer! This would also mean that not only could you teleport zombies from somewhere else, but anyone. A great way to assassinate people.

Gods knew she could use a tumble.
No arguments here! I just loved Erthor's natural thought when Jerric asked him out on a date. Erm, I mean when he asked him to ask Lildreth out on a date!

Zombies. Gross.

The leather over his chest was darkened where a Tongue of Fire spell had flared back toward him close enough to singe it.
Yikes!

Erthor sounds like quite the character!

If Erthor is telling the truth then there is a really pissed off necromancer! That’s so funny!

OHMYGOSH
The end is just too good!!!

I have totally enjoyed your version of Erthor! He was quite a fun companion on the long walk back to Skingrad. Sometimes I think he is the only one with sense in that guild, and thus his isolation out at Bleak Flats must be welcome. Except for the zombies, that is.

Another explanation for the zombies in that cave! Especially since they stick around after you 'kill' them. Liked this one very, very much!

The ending made me laugh out loud. I wonder if Erthor ever progressed past the Bosmer equivalent of the ten-year-old 'girls, eww!' stage!

ROFL !! Erthor's portrayal was hilarious !!! And that he caused the issue himself even more so - the patting the hair and brushing off his clothing was the icing on the cake - loved it !! Awesome Write !!

What a completely delightful episode this was! How you can cause your readers to smile, giggle and grin through killing a cave full of zombies is truly testimony to your impressive skill.

It was incomprehensible to Jerric that Adrienne had not sent someone earlier to check on the welfare of one of her mages.’
I agree with SubRosa on this. Kud-Ei ('I’d do anything for my girls'), Carahil or Sigrid Firewalker would never have allowed this.

’Even Lildereth can’t open a lock that isn’t there, he thought. With a certain degree of smugness, he reached for his axe.’
This is Jerric to a tee!

“Well, I guess you can come with me now.”
“Are you sure they’re all gone? I can leave the cave? You’re heading back to Skingrad, aren’t you? And I could come with you? Oh, thank you! I’m ever so grateful!”
How wonderfully the slow drawling speech and ideas of Jerric contrast with the clipped but bubbling sentences and thoughts of Erthor.

What a clever misunderstanding-based ending you treated us to! You set it up and presented it with perfection. Something tells me however, Jerric is likely no better at matchmaking than baking soufflés or opening locks. Touching that he was unselfishly thinking of his friend Lildereth though.

You're way too good at doing Bosmer, Grits. Are you one in real life?

This whole section for some reason made me think of Star Wars, from the "I'm Jerric, I'm here to rescue you." to this bit...



Oh, that made me laugh... ...

Reminded me of Han Solo shouting "You could use a good kiss!!" at Leia... ...

Just saying...

Most excellent chapter...

Brilliant...Nice one... ...

Folks, thank you for your patience. Thank you for reading. And thank you very much for your wonderful support! It’s been a rough couple of weeks, but yesterday was like coming out of a cave. And not a nice cave like Erthor’s with carpets and zombies.

SubRosa: Erthor’s bulging sack, I completely missed that. OMG. It was fun to think about what Jerric would imagine Lildereth would look for in a mer. At least his heart was in the right place. Poor Erthor. I think we can assume that sweaty, soot-streaked Nord maniacs are not on the menu.

King Coin: Erthor is one of my favorite NPCs, so this was a fun episode to write. I’m glad you liked Jerric’s little Speechcraft fail.

haute ecole rider: I love Erthor, he’s so charming and appreciative of being rescued. He’s even sweet to Adrienne when he gets back, hopping right into bed with her even though she’s mean to him.

mALX: I’m glad you liked Erthor! The comments people make about him in the game made me think he must have a history of major screw-ups. It always cracks me up to see him looking so clean and cute after the player has fought their way through the zombie slaughterhouse.

Acadian: You’re so right, Jerric’s thinking fell short of his good intentions on this one. Taking a friend to a brothel does not qualify as a successful match. I love that you picked out those lines of dialog. The contrast between them was the inspiration of the whole episode.

Zalphon: I have been accused of relentless cheer.

McBadgere: I was giggling like a fiend when that rescue line popped out. That scene in Star Wars came to my mind, too! Too bad I couldn’t think of anywhere to go with the “short for a Stormtrooper” line.


Where we are: Evening at the Skingrad Mages Guild. Jerric has rescued Erthor from zombies at Bleak Flats Cave.




Chapter 13: Skingrad, Part Five


Dinner at the guild hall had been a crowded, noisy affair. Lildereth and Darnand had to sit at separate tables, and Jerric simply took his filled plate and headed out the back door with Ulfe. The bathing chamber had been equally busy, but a hot shower was worth waiting for. Eventually Jerric returned to the bedchamber with a towel around his neck, anxious for his friends’ company.

He found Lildereth sitting in the middle of one bed in her nightdress, running a brush through her hair. Darnand lounged in a chair with a book in his hands, also ready for bed. Ulfe lay across Darnand’s feet. Jerric moved around the room, stowing his gear and arranging his blades.

Darnand addressed him as he slipped a dagger under the pillow. “How goes the recharging?”

Jerric grimaced. “Not great. Vigge said I should be glad I can do it at all, most folks can’t. That means skitt to me. I need to keep my sword charged, not one of these little light crystals.”

Darnand and Lildereth looked blank. “Try again,” said Lildereth.

Jerric took a moment to organize his words. “I use too much magicka for what I can transfer to the enchantment. A glow stone or an ice chest doesn’t need much energy, but a sword does. Practice will make me better, but I’ll never be able to keep my weapons fully charged without magicka gems and soul energy. I guess that’s why rechargers work at the guild halls and battlemages pay them.”

“Vigge must have anticipated this result,” Darnand pointed out. “I cannot imagine that he would share this spell with you for no reason.”

“I’ll send some power into my sword every time I drink a magicka potion. Like you said, my potions are stronger than I can use. The two or three strikes I get might be enough to save a life one day. I guess that’s what Vigge was thinking. He sure wasn’t worried that I’d set up a recharging service.”

“You might keep a dagger charged on your own,” said Lildereth. “Do you not keep a filled gem specifically for charging one of your daggers?”

“Yeah. The one with the spell to trap soul energy.” Jerric grinned at her. “You’re a fount of cheer tonight, elf. What happened, did you get Druja to eat a bug?”

The song of a bedstead began in the next chamber, filtering through the adjoining wall.

“Adrienne has company,” Jerric observed.

“Erthor,” said Lildereth.

“Is she still scolding him, or apologizing?”

Darnand glanced up from his book. “Will your spell that reduces sound work on intervening surfaces, or only upon the source of the noise?” he asked Lildereth.

“Sadly, just the source,” she replied.

“I guess you hear a lot that you rather wouldn’t,” Jerric said to her. “I mean around us round-ears.”

“And smell,” she said, giving his boots a pointed look.

Jerric placed his boots outside the door. Lildereth put away her brush and opened a jar of skin cream. Jerric moved to the chest of drawers and emptied his pockets. He didn’t need to read Abiene’s letter to remember every word.

“Did you get to talk to Abiene through your crystal ball tonight?” he asked Darnand.

“Indeed. I am glad you reminded me. I would like your advice.”

“All right.” Jerric leaned against the chest and gave Darnand his attention.

“She has a patient that has received an injury to the brain,” Darnand continued. “He is unable to speak, but he seems to understand what is said to him. You recall the healing she performed on your brow. She wants to attempt such a restoration on this man. However, her concerns are significant and in my opinion well-founded. She has asked me to advise her.”

“Are you asking me what you should tell her?” Jerric asked. “Well, that’s easy. She doesn’t want you to decide for her, she just wants your ‘support.’ She already knows what she’s going to do, no matter what you say. Yeah, I know. Women. So don’t be worried that you’ll tell her wrong. Just tell her what you think is right.”

Darnand looked completely baffled. “What do you think she should do?”

“Explain the risk to the man. Do it if he agrees.”

“She could be thrown out of the Mages Guild if it goes badly,” Darnand objected. “She could lose her position at the chapel.”

“What’s the use of all that if she’s afraid to heal the way she’s meant to? Screw them all if they don’t like it. She’s tougher than she thinks, and what she can do for folk can’t be taken away from her. She won’t end up sleeping under a hedge, no matter what. Tell her she already knows the answer. And you trust her judgment.”

Darnand looked thoughtful. So did Lildereth.

“Do you think I’m wrong?” Jerric asked her.

“No. I’m just… I suppose I am surprised.”

“Why?”

Lildereth gave her crooked smile. “There’s no way to answer that without insulting you.”

“How is this time any different?”

Lildereth’s reply was lost when the door to Adrienne’s chamber opened and closed with a bang.

She caught Jerric’s eye. “Sulinus has joined them.” Her impish smile told him what his ears could not.

They both looked at Darnand. The Breton was staring thoughtfully at the floor, either declining this opportunity to advance his education or oblivious to it.

“I need to remember to train with Sulinus,” Jerric said to Darnand. “He has the weakness spells you were talking about.”

Darnand made no reply.

“I found the Aetherius Stone.” Jerric announced. “We’ll need to go back when the stars are out.”

No response from the Breton.

“You could use him as a garment rack right now,” said Lildereth. Jerric thought that was kinder than the pranks he had been considering.

Jerric took the dog outside one more time before he climbed into bed. Ulfe jumped up while he was arranging himself. By the time they finished wrestling, Lildereth and Darnand were tucked neatly under their blankets. At some point one of them had covered the light.


Jerric walked through the green meadow in silence. It wasn’t silence, he decided, so much as the absence of sound. He saw the grass brush against his thighs, but his skin didn’t feel it. The sun was behind him, home somewhere ahead. Beyond those rocks, he thought. Past the trees. He didn’t recognize the place, but somehow he had been there.

He turned his head, and he was lying in the dark, in total comfort. The scent of lavender reached him first, then beeswax and leather. Home. Wordless joy filled him. It had all been a dream.

I thought I was the Lion of Kvatch, he laughed. How Ma will tease when I tell her.

It’s a trick, the dark whispered.

He had no breath to deny it. The bed fell away from under his hands, then from under his shoulders, like swiftly crumbling sand.

A voice called to him, light as a breeze.

Jerric opened his eyes to dim light on a coffered ceiling, but not like home. He closed his eyes and tried to take a breath.

“It’s me,” Lildereth whispered. She knelt on the very edge of his bed in the light of a glow stone. Her hair made a dark curtain to her elbows. Jerric could hear Darnand’s slow breathing in the other bed.

He realized that his hand was empty. “I moved your daggers before I woke you,” she told him. “And your knife.”

“Probably for the best.” Jerric rubbed his eyes. “I’m sorry I disturbed you. But thanks. You woke me before the fire this time.”

“I think you already had that dream. That’s when Ulfe jumped down, she’s over there with Darnand. We decided to let you go all the way through it. You quieted for a time, and he fell back asleep. But then you…” Lildereth reached down and brushed his cheek with the backs of her fingers. He realized that his face was wet.

“I thought I was home.” Saying it made his throat ache.

Lildereth started to reach for his hand, then pulled back. “Who is Martin?”

She has my trust, thought Jerric. But I can’t give her Martin’s. “I hope you can meet him some day. Are you going back over there or staying?”

Lildereth leaned over and covered the glow stone. Then she slipped under his arm and curled her back against his side. He smiled when she flipped her hair out from under. Her feet were ice against his leg.

“Try not to crush me,” she murmured, settling the covers.

“If you promise not to paralyze me.”

“Agreed. But only for tonight.”



.

Holy Cow what a chapter !! So many places to cite - argh!! First, I wish Jerric had NOT put the letter in the drawer where it can be easily come across without any actual snooping intended. He should have left it in the pocket of his pants. That worries me.

Second: The hilarious bedroom antics.

Third: The huge discussion on the use of gems to recharge, your world building is amazing !!!

Fourth: The dream - very powerfully done !!

Lastly - Lildereth. If anything can bring her fully into the fold of friendship between Darnand and Jerric it is this, she is now party to Jerric's secrets and the keeping of them - because I doubt she can't feel the importance of the name Martin somehow. I believe she'll know there is a deeper meaning to that. Then also, she has really come to realize the memories that haunt him - maybe not specifically, but now she is a part of the comfort that helps him through them.

HUGE WRITE !!! I have to place this in the top of all my favorite Jerric chapters, Awesome Write !!!

It sounds like the Skingrad guild is a busy place. Or perhaps just too small for the amount of people in it? That certainly helps explain the nightly game of musical beds. Speaking of which, the later example of that heard through the walls was just hilarious! I wonder what the Bethesda people think of how all us fans have decided that the Skingrad Guild is a bunch of swingers?

That means skitt to me
An inventive way of circumventing the swear filter!

did you get Druja to eat a bug?


he already knows what she’s going to do, no matter what you say. Yeah, I know. Women.
Indeed! At least she is not asking him if she looks fat in her new dress...

I love Jerric's attitude toward Abiene's predicament. Especially the screw the guild line. It is true. She does not need the guild to live well. She can pick and choose her career. Perhaps even in the Healer's Guild? But more importantly the part about asking the patient. My experience with doctors has always been that they think they know what people want better than we do ourselves. Naturally they are always wrong. Actually asking someone and listening is not a trait that seems to be taught in med school these days. One of the reasons I cannot stand doctors.

Another delightful episode, effortlessly blending humor across your serious themes.

So nice to hear talk of Abiene. Like Lildereth, I was surprised at the insightfulness of Jerric’s advice. There is no doubt in this elf-reader’s mind what Lildereth was about to tell him!

Lildereth stole the show for me (again). You have really built some wonderful comfort among the four amigos (including Ulfe).

After an intense weekend, I'm quite tired.

But I can't not read this latest update and not comment, if briefly.

What everyone else said, and:

S.G.M.

I’m glad Aravi only spent one night at the Skingrad mages guild hall. Sounds like Adrienne is a bit rough on that woodelf.

I have to again. Jerric isn’t as dumb as he looks.

Wow. The dream and then Lildereth waking Jerric and then staying. That was very sweet of her.

Awesome chapter Grits! Well worth the wait!

Brilliant...

Wow...

I'm really loving this story so much...

The characters are so brilliantly done...

Skingrad makes me laugh...You have the Mages Guild being swingers, I had that Inn on the corner being a whorehouse...I'm sure Bethesda would love it...

Absolute brilliance...

Nice one... ...

mALX: You’re absolutely right, Lildereth can’t fail to realize that Martin is significant. Jerric is the King of TMI, so any subject that doesn’t produce a cringe-inducing anecdote is one to take note of. You also spotted the giant step forward for their friendship. She could have easily left him alone, but she chose to wake him up and try to help. Thank you so much, mALX!

SubRosa: The guild hall is busy with mages travelling for South Winds Prayer. That’s why our friends are in Vigge’s old room instead packed into the common quarters. Bethesda gave us many giggles in Skingrad. Their Fighters Guild is the home of the Naked Breakfast, for example. Fadus Calidius does not equip his regular clothing, at least on the PS3. Jerric’s own not-so-pleasant experience as Abiene’s patient definitely played a part in his advice! Thank you for your comments about her situation.

Acadian: Jerric frequently tells more than he should, so it’s nice that he still has a few surprises. I hope I can find a way to tell some early Jerric stories. His large, loud, loving family is the source of his insight, though he would claim he learned everything he needs to know chasing women. Thank you, Acadian!

haute ecole rider: What a compliment! Thank you, haute!

King Coin: No, not quite as dumb as he looks. I still wouldn’t ask him for help on a crossword puzzle, but he does know a bit about people. Thanks, KC!

McBadgere: How funny about the inn. Skingrad is Sin City!! Thank you, McB!


Where we are: Jerric, Darnand, and Lildereth are on a mission from Meridia to kill the necromancers in Howling Cave. Their four-legged companions are relaxing at the stable. You might notice that I’ve placed some restrictions on Illusion magic.




Chapter 13: Part Six, Howling Cave


Jerric paced across the clearing for what could be the thousandth time. Ten strides were not enough to stretch his legs, and each turn wound him tighter. He wondered how many others had done the same, kicking a path through the fallen leaves while waiting to carry out their own savage plans.

“What’s taking her so long?” he demanded, as if the still air held the answer.

“She must accomplish this morning what she would have preferred to spend a week doing,” said Darnand. The Breton sat calmly on a rock, well out of Jerric’s way. “She has not been gone as long as you may think. Go out and view the sky. It is safe, no one approaches.”

Jerric bit back his retort. He didn’t need to see the sun to know how much time had passed. His eyes moved over their gear, as restless as his feet. Packs and weapons sat ready for the walk to Howling Cave. Their hidden camp was already set up, in case they returned exhausted or under duress. There had not been much to arrange, since they brought only what they could carry on their backs.

“Necromancy isn’t even illegal,” Jerric blurted.

Darnand folded his arms under the cloak, pulling it tighter around his body. “At last we reach the issue. No, our actions are not sanctioned by any authority. Only the will of a daedric prince.”

“I don’t disrespect the law,” Jerric declared. “I pay my fines. I always do my time, too.” He scratched a hand through his hair. “I don’t even know what I’m saying.”

“Listen to me,” said Darnand. “In your years guarding caravans, you and your opponents were much the same, apart from the choices you had made. You were always the shield. The knowledge that you are the defender ameliorates any guilt you may feel from the joy you take in violence. In this situation, perhaps you imagine that the roles are reversed.”

Jerric stared at his friend. There’s nothing Darnand can’t figure out when he puts his mind to it, he decided. As long as he doesn’t fall down the stairs or drown in the rain while he’s thinking.

“‘Ameliorate’?” said Jerric.

Darnand gave one of Lildereth’s half-shrugs. “It is only a theory. Do not allow yourself to identify with these people. Their quest for power has led them beyond the reach of compassion.” His face took on a troubled expression. “Or so I tell myself.”

Jerric watched him for a moment. “Beyond your compassion, huh?”

Darnand gave him a rueful look. “But not beyond my understanding.”

He’s as unsettled as I am with this waiting, Jerric realized. He found a tree to lean against. “So what’s the research Adrienne has you doing? When do you think you’ll be through?”

“I am translating a text that does not remotely interest me,” Darnand said. “It is not guild business, but Adrienne’s own study. It is the journal of a mage whose work was interrupted by war, though I have not the context to determine who she was or even when she lived.” The Breton stopped, scowling.

“What’s the situation?”

“The mage was looking for new sources of the crystal used to manufacture magicka gems. I am only translating the passages I am given, or correcting Adrienne’s work. But I am certain that Adrienne hopes to profit personally somehow. She is quite secretive about the source. Proper context would speed my work. Her reticence is vexing.”

“Wait. Profit how?”

“The West Weald gem mines provide tremendous income for the entire guild, and especially for the Skingrad chapter. Did you not realize? The mines are privately owned and operated, as are the gem cutting facilities. However, the guild has a role in gem certification and sales, not to mention the profits earned through filling them. If Adrienne personally invested in a new mine, she would significantly increase her own wealth. She is using guild resources to pursue a private venture. I doubt she will be the last to do so.”

“Carahil would never do that. Neither would Sigrid.”

“I concur. Carahil sent me on Council business. Sigrid had me work for the benefit of the whole city, not just the guild.”

“Are you going to do anything about it?” Jerric asked.

“Will I report my suspicions? No. Those mages wear silk and fine furs every day, and they drink a fortune in wine by three of the afternoon. I expect that some of the gold that flows through the Skingrad chapter has always been diverted. There is only one resident member who stands apart. Druja the Disappointed, as you have termed her. Druja with her faded Apprentice robe and single bedchamber. If anyone is in a position to act, it is she.”

“Maybe that’s why she’s so sour,” said Jerric. “She’s not skimming from the guild, but she’s not willing to stop it.”

“Whatever the situation, I am unwilling to place myself within it. I have my own interests to pursue.”

“Like hunting necromancers for a daedric prince.” Jerric shook his head. “Five mortals ate their last breakfast today. We know it, but not them. I guess I won’t mind when it comes down to the killing, it’s all this thought that makes me uneasy.”

“I hope it is only five,” said Darnand.

“Yeah, the elf hates it when a plan falls apart and she has to waste an arrow on me.”

Darnand nodded at the trees. “And she approaches.”

Lildereth slipped into the clearing without a sound. She placed her equipment against a log and walked over to kneel on the ground next to Darnand’s rock. Jerric smiled to himself as she unrolled a piece of scraped hide. They may be on Darnand’s assignment undertaken on Jerric’s behalf, but there was no doubt who was in command.

“I think you were right,” she said to Darnand. “They’re wearing the same kind of robes. These necromancers must be part of the same organization.” Her raised hand stopped him. “No, I did not get a look at any of their notes. There are five, as Meridia told us. Here, I’ll show you the layout.”

They bent their heads over her drawing as she spoke.

“The cave is accessed through an old silver mine. It’s completely dark, but the way is marked with glowstones. Two zombies are loose in there, I expect they keep the rats out. They have a lot of bodies down there. I mean a lot. We’ll need to kill the guardians quietly so we don’t alert the necromancers. That means up here if we can. If they’ve moved to this chamber, we’ll have to sneak past them and finish them on the way out.”

Jerric closed his teeth over his objection.

Lildereth continued. “These four lower chambers are closed off by a door here and protected by the clumsiest trap I have ever seen. Jerric, don’t step on the pressure plate. We’ll have to wait until this chamber is empty to enter. It’s a straight shot down this passage, so anyone could raise the alarm from down there. They are working on eighteen zombies. I doubt that those are ready to raise, but they have six others on the move already. These corridors are tight. You can bottle them up in there, but don’t plan on getting past any. You’ll have to go over them.”

Lildereth took a sip from her waterskin while the men studied her map.

“My command spells will not work on this type of undead,” she continued. “I need a mind to influence, since I am not strong enough to break the will left by the necromancer on my own. Of course, my poisons won’t work, either. My plan is to slip past them and target the mortals. I’ll have to time it so I don’t get caught in a corridor. We’ll enter when this area is empty. I’ll move down here and drop any necromancers in this chamber. That should start the fight. Darnand, you will stay back and hold the first chamber. Turn any undead that come through here while they’re still in the passage. That should keep it blocked until we get back. Jerric you’re with me. Keep the zombies off my neck. It’s going to be close in there, so don’t start throwing fire around. Touch spells and blade work. Darnand, just keep it pointed in this direction. I do not want to get cooked coming back up this corridor.”

Darnand nodded thoughtfully. “I shall use my scamp to keep them in the passageway. I doubt that there will be a powerful conjurer among them. If you hear a deadroth, you will know that I was wrong.”

Lildereth looked straight at Jerric. “I’ll disappear when I need to. The rest of them will be drawn to you. Don’t wait for me. Go back to Darnand as soon as you can, he’ll need you. He has to hold this chamber. I do not want to get stuck back there.”

“Will they work on ghosts?” asked Jerric. “I mean the spells.”

“Yes,” said Lildereth. “But it is difficult with those who are bound by a necromancer. I have to free the spirit from their spell, then bend it to my will instead. Really, it’s far better to just avoid them.”

Darnand started to speak.

Jerric interrupted him. “What about daedra?”

“No,” said Lildereth. “Though Carahil told me there are some conjurers who can manage it.”

“But when you summon a daedra, you bind it with your will,” Jerric pointed out.

“When you summon daedra,” said Lildereth. “I cannot.”

Darnand spoke up. “A daedric mind is a different kind of consciousness. You will recall from your first contact with your scamp, Jerric. The initial summoning rituals…” He passed a hand over his eyes. “Might we postpone this discussion? The road to Chorrol is long, and we will have many nights to fill with conversation before you face an atronach in the summoning circle.”

Lildereth angled an eyebrow at Jerric. “Anyway, today I thought you’d be more anxious to get your sword wet.”

Jerric grinned at her. “I’m—”

“You were explaining your map,” Darnand reminded Lildereth. “How is the ventilation? I do not wish to fill these chambers with smoke.”

“Good. You can hear the slightest breeze howling over the rocks. There’s an open cavern down in this area, but no access through except narrow cracks. I expect that’s why this cave system has always been so popular with necromancers. There was a group working here the last time I was in Skingrad. You could smell it when you neared the air vents. Of course, those were different times.”

Jerric had more questions for Lildereth. “How does your invisibility spell work on them, then? I thought all illusion spells worked in the mind. A light spell doesn’t put light on the wall, it puts it in your head.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” said Lildereth. “How can you see something that you don’t know is there if the light is only in your mind?”

“I don’t know, but that’s where it is,” said Jerric. “I can feel it tickling in my head like an eyelash stuck the wrong way in your eye. I hate light spells.”

“You should refrain from reading the spell when it is cast,” Darnand told him. “Now that you know how, it is up to you to discipline yourself if it bothers you.”

“But how does it work?” Jerric insisted.

Darnand gave him a look. “You are a curious Nord. Perhaps there is an element of divination in the light spell. I suspect that the invisibility spell alters the perception which is interpreted by the mind. Even headless zombies have a way of seeing. Is it possible that we might proceed with our plan today?”

“Maybe that’s why they all wear the same robes,” mused Jerric.

They both stared at him.

“With the big skull on the front,” Jerric explained. “It’s like their uniform. I mean, they might as well say Stab Me, I’m a Necromancer on them. Maybe they wear the same kind of robe so they won’t be attacked by each others’ rotten pets. You know, with their strange way of seeing.”

“By the Nine,” Darnand whispered.

“What?”

“You didn’t keep any, did you?” Lildereth asked Darnand.

“No. However, the next time we will be garbed as members of their organization. It will save a great deal of trouble if we can dispatch the undead minions after their masters are on the ground.”

Jerric snorted. “If we ever get around to this time. Are you two ready to quit stalling and get to work? You can exercise your jaws all night when we get back here to camp. Let’s get this done.”

The storyline backdrop for why they are doing the Daedric quests is amazing, so well thought out !! I love it !!

Adrienne's subverting of funds and misappropriation of Guild resources - that had me rolling, only you would have added that spice to the conversation in the midst of all the rest - that was priceless !!

Jerric's musings - his own way of working things out - they run from hilarious to brilliant in the same paragraph.

He still struggles so much with the killing of humans, even the evil ones - that is such a telling side to his nature and is such a complete continuation of the person he showed himself to be (as the raging lion that fought for Kvatch and returned to Anvil so devastatingly effected by the experience).

Absolutely Awesome Write !!!

When I played Tadrose Helas a long time ago, she learned all about the proclivities of the Skingrad FG.

South Winds Prayer? Is that what happens after a big chili dinner?

No, our actions are not sanctioned by any authority. Only the will of a daedric prince.”
Now that is a comforting thought. Not!

“‘Ameliorate’?” said Jerric.
Isn't that the guy whose family tomb is down by Leyawiin, whose armor you have to retrieve as part of an FG quest? Seriously, I loved how Jerric stumbled over the term.

As so often you do, once again you treat us to a wonderful piece of world-building concerning the gem mines, and the guild's part of their operation. Tying it to Adrienne was excellent, and gives the guild head another dimension beyond being constantly distracted and sexually insatiable.

I guess I won’t mind when it comes down to the killing, it’s all this thought that makes me uneasy
Yep, that was a good observation to include. I would expect that anyone who has a conscience would feel that way. It is much easier to do it, and not think about it, then the other way around.

Two zombies are loose in there, I expect they keep the rats out.
Either that or they give the rats something to nibble on, which keeps them from going further!

I loved not only the plan, but also the many diversions from it explaining the inner works of magic, and backwards eyelashes. Plus a truly inspired bit of cunning with the idea of wearing necromancer robes to fool the undead into thinking they are on the same team.

At least Jerric's got the idea that it's the robes that stop the zombies turning on their creators. It's just as likely to be the smell, after all

This was a delight to read!

’There’s nothing Darnand can’t figure out when he puts his mind to it, he decided. As long as he doesn’t fall down the stairs or drown in the rain while he’s thinking.’
This is Darnand, so perfectly captured by your skill with words!

“Carahil would never do that. Neither would Sigrid.”
“I concur. Carahil sent me on Council business. Sigrid had me work for the benefit of the whole city, not just the guild.”
Jerric and Darnand nailed it here! If they had added Kud-Ei to the list, I’d be swooning!

’Jerric smiled to himself as she unrolled a piece of scraped hide. They may be on Darnand’s assignment undertaken on Jerric’s behalf, but there was no doubt who was in command.’
I grinned at this, knowing I was once again about to be in that happy place where Lildereth steals the show!

Wonderful idea that Lildereth went forward to reconnoiter. It sounds like an effective plan that exploits everyone’s skills.

Great discussion on magicka stones, the killing of deserving foes, illusion and the possibility of using necrorobes as disguises.

*Applauds heartily*...Most excellent!!...

I've decided that Jerric is Han Solo...I can't get that out of my head...Fantastic!!... ...



LMAO... ...

Nice one...Loving it!!... ...

A question sort of related to the chapter: Is it weird writing about Oblivion with Skyrim out?

I remember this quest. It’s one of my favorite to be honest.

Darnand turns out to be very insightful this episode. And picking up some of Lildereth’s mannerisms?

Fascinating about the Skingrad hall. Makes me see Druja in a different light. She’s stuck in a hall full of dishonesty and corruption and she is unwilling to participate. I love what you did there!

The zombie factory gives us some reason why Meridia will take an interest in this particular necro cave.

The planning is almost as enjoyable as the execution. Can’t wait for the next chapter!

I do not find it weird. I would find it weird writing about Skyrim, to be honest. Just reading fan fics set there is strange. Although it would seem less so if all the dragon business was left out.

QFT. Although I love seeing the screens (whether they show dragon-fighting or not) - I'm just not ready for a forum full of dragon-fighting/shouting fics yet.

Not for me. If anything, it’s great to know so much more about that big formerly empty space north of the Jeralls. I don’t have any interest in writing about the dragons, probably since I’m still experiencing that story the way the game presents it. I’m also not inclined to read Skyrim MQ fanfics yet for the same reason.

I LOVE the setting that Skyrim offers, though. I already have the seeds of stories tucked away for when time permits. Hopefully by the time Martin does his thing in Jerric’s Story, I will have learned how to craft at least a simple plot.

SPEW !!! That's like Uma Thurman hoping she can find a beauty secret !! ROFL !! (that should be the bowing down "I'm not worthy" emoticon, but I can't find it on here).

To add to the Skyrim writing thing...Yes, something occurred to me Skyrim-wise, and I may get to it at some point...I spent ages reconciling what I was doing with the Oblivion-ish stuff with what they've done to everything in Skyrim...Obviously some stuff won't have happened...I'm just ignoring some of it...But I've had fun working out what will work...Including the Dragon stuff...Yay!...Oh, and I laughed with joy when I discovered things about the Dark Brotherhood...But that would be a spoiler...So no...

And yes, KOTNS...Or KNOTS as I've already christened it, is well on!!...Oh yeah!!...

Excellent story btw Grits... ...

That's good. Cyrodiil already feels like a place far away for me. I think part of that is because of the unique way I played for the last several months with Aravi. She did almost no vanilla quests during that time so thinking about this quest Jerric is on, I had to think back two or three years.

I'm glad you have some ideas about Skyrim. I think Jerric's story is magnificent. Sure, you borrowed the main quest, but there's a lot more going on here than the main quest. I (and several others I'm sure) would love to be able to write as well as you. Right now I don't dare do more than caption some screenshots or add a sentence or two before a video, and that's pushing it.

I know I keep saying it, and real life does a mustache twirl every time I do, but I WILL catch up on Jerric's story, Dammit!

Hello!

Although I have a lot to catch up on seeing as I've only started reading, I just wanted to say how much I enjoy this story!

Jerric is such a likeable and believable character, and that makes me very eager to follow his story. I also highly enjoy how each of your characters speaks with a different voice. They all have differences about them and that gives them many layers, and, again, makes for believability.

Even though I have a lot to read, I just wanted you to know that i am most certainly reading and I can't wait to read about Jerric's adventures.

You have another loyal fan, here

Amazing work

You're crafting the plot fine, you've got plenty of time for Martin, etc., etc., more general assurances from me to you.

You know, I never actually thought about wearing Necro-robes in Oblivion. Probably wouldn't help, as far as the game mechanics, but if it has some effect in Shivering Isles (Heretics and Zealots) why not here as well?

You continue to demonstrate great tactical writing with Darnand, Jerric, and Lildereth. I am envious and annoyed at my own inability to get to anything like that for a few chapters.

And lastly, couldn't Lildereth just curse Jerric with clumsiness instead of full paralysis?

mALX: Thank you so much, mALX! When Jerric starts thinking out loud, it’s best to just let him ramble until he’s finished. You never know what he’ll come up with.

SubRosa: Thank you, SubRosa! It was fun to fill in some blanks about Skingrad. I’m glad you liked the meandering discussion. Getting Jerric and Darnand to stick to the point is beyond even Lildereth’s glaring skills.

ghastley: Yuck. In this chapter we’ll discover that the robes don’t smell nice, either.

Acadian: I can’t wait for Jerric to meet Kud-Ei. She may drive him crazy, but “I'd do anything for one of my girls” is something he can relate to. Thank you, Acadian!

McBadgere: Jerric as Han Solo, that made me smile. Thanks, McB!

King Coin: Sorry there’s been a little wait between episodes. I’m glad you mentioned Darnand’s insight and mannerisms, he has definitely been studying his friends. Thank you for your kind words about Druja.

Destri: It’s wonderful to see you back! This is a good time to catch up, with my posts coming every three weeks or so.

Tábrasa: Welcome, Tábrasa! Thank you for your kind words. I’m glad you’re reading, and I’m very glad you’re sharing Tara Willow’s story with us!!

Captain Hammer: Thank you for the reassurance, Captain! It’s great to see that you’re back. I’m afraid the necrobes in the game just annoy the Mages Guild members if you’re wearing one when you talk to them. Of course they won’t notice if you’re stark naked. I find that I’m straying farther and farther from the game in some places.


Where we are: Jerric, Darnand, and Lildereth are on a mission from Meridia to kill the necromancers in Howling Cave. Lildereth has thoroughly scouted and mapped the mine and caves. Now we find the team executing her plan.




Chapter 13: Part Seven, Howling Cave

Jerric leaned against the rough stone wall, waiting. The old silver mine had been exactly as Lildereth described it. A well-lit path through the middle with two zombies on patrol out in the dark. His friends had their night-eye spells, and Jerric used a potion. One zombie had led him into the necromancers’ cold storage chamber. Bodies lay there in neat rows, fresh from the grave or even fresher. Others hung along the wall, clothing and innards removed. Their fluids ran down the sloping floor and drained into an old cave-in. It’s bad, but I imagine that you’ve seen worse, Lildereth had warned him. She was right, but that didn’t make it easier to see. He left his lunch in a puddle on the floor.

Now they had reached the door to Howling Cave, with its five resident necromancers and at least six functioning zombies. The first chamber gave access to all of the rest. They needed to split the group and take them by surprise, and so they waited. Darnand knelt beside Lildereth, perfectly still. Jerric faced into the mine, watching their back with his life detection ring. Any concerns about the legality of their venture had been dispelled by the pathetic remains that lay behind them, waiting to be crafted into undead slaves. Jerric felt that simple joy again, under the itch to get back into the fight. Damn this waiting.

“Now,” murmured Lildereth.

As soon as Jerric moved through the door, he could hear the wind howling through the rocks above them. He stepped over a pressure plate and past the spiked mace hanging in the middle of the passageway. Lildereth had been right again, this trap was so obvious he wondered why they even bothered with it. Cool light from glowstones filled the chamber ahead. His ring told him they would find nothing living or undead there, but the contents did make him stop in his tracks.

More bodies hung from the ceiling with work tables alongside them. Rolled linen, leather straps, wire, and various tools stood ready. Two zombies lay motionless on tables. A glance into the closest one’s hollow abdomen revealed that someone had been reinforcing its exposed spine with metal. Most curious were the two figures clamped to the ceiling. Jerric could not imagine why anyone would do that. Darnand’s face wore a look that was equally disgusted and curious. A hiss from Lildereth brought them both back to attention.

This work chamber had two exits in addition to the door through which they had entered. With pillars, hanging meat, and tables cluttering the space, it would be a bad place for a fight. Darnand moved around to the left to block the passageway to the necromancers’ living quarters. Lildereth vanished. Jerric knew she was moving straight down the well-lit corridor to the right. She would target the necromancers there. Once the fight started he would kill anything that lay in his path. The zombies out in the mine had been tough to kill, and one of them had cracked Jerric’s shield. He hoped that Lildereth could stay out of their reach. After a moment, he followed her.

Jerric moved to the junction where another passageway angled to the right, toward the necromancers’ ritual chamber. Straight ahead lay the smallest workroom with its bookshelves and alchemy station. Lildereth had specifically warned him to be careful there with fire.

Life signs showed mortals and undead moving in both chambers. He would have to deal with the glowing distraction during the fight, so that he didn’t accidentally harm the invisible Lildereth. He drew his axe and tested the space, dissatisfied. He would get to a doorway as soon as possible, so that he could use Redeemer. He preferred the longsword’s reach.

A black-robed figure passed across the chamber at the end of the passageway. It stopped and turned toward Jerric. A shout far to the rear announced the beginning of Darnand’s battle. Commotion to his right confirmed Lildereth’s position in the ritual chamber. Jerric had to stay on his side of the junction, so he opened a crack into the Void and pulled his scamp through. It charged straight toward the necromancer with a cackle of glee and a whoosh of flame. Jerric took a step back and waited for what would come.

Zombies lurched up the corridor from the right. He bashed the first swipe aside with his shield and chopped through an arm while it staggered. A step back for balance and repeat. The fight quickly turned to work. Screams from the alchemy room announced his scamp’s success, and a small explosion made Jerric wince. He had forgotten that Precious would not be careful with its fire.

A third zombie fell, and Jerric took the time to shake the splintered shield from his arm while the next one stumbled over its fallen brothers. He spit bitter slime out of his mouth and realized that he was grinning. Fire filled his off hand. He slid back to dodge the zombie’s overhead strike, then reached out with his Searing Grasp spell. Orange flames smothered the zombie’s pink glow. Jerric stepped back to catch his breath.

Only one life sign remained past the smoke. Its small arm reached up to cover its face. “Go!” choked Lildereth.

Jerric turned to charge back toward Darnand. He found the Breton himself approaching along the passage. “Clear,” said Darnand.

A moment’s cleanup had Jerric’s axe back at his hip. “You have to see the ritual chamber,” said Lildereth, heading off to the right. The men followed. Jerric picked up his broken Wolf shield as they passed.

The ritual chamber looked like it had once been used for burials. Niches lined the walls, mostly empty. The jumbled bones on the floor must be the niches’ former occupants, likely too crumbled to be suitable for raising. Rubble from a cave-in filled one corner. Jerric guessed that they were near the surface again. He remembered an old cemetery very near the mine’s entrance. Perhaps this chamber once exited to that hillside.

Three altars of white stone stood in the chamber’s center. Arcane symbols were painted on the floor. Glowing stones stood in metal brackets arranged around each altar. Jerric could feel power in the air.

“These altars could be from an Ayleid site,” mused Darnand. “The runes… It will take some study. I shall begin in their library.”

Lildereth nodded toward the back of the chamber. “That chest is locked. I’ll get started.”

Jerric looked at the two bodies on the floor. Fresh death clogged his nose. “These necromancers smell worse than their zombies. Ugh. I guess I can salvage their robes. They’re going to reek until we find a stream, and possibly even after.”

Darnand left the chamber. Jerric and Lildereth bent to their tasks.

After a moment Jerric heard a muffled click and a soft sigh. He glanced over as Lildereth slumped to the floor in front of the chest. She was in his arms before he knew that he had moved.

Poisoned, he thought. Another trap. “DARNAND!”

His healing spell showed him the damage inside. Lildereth’s heart fluttered unevenly, and her breaths were shallow whispers. Jerric felt the poison still working. He raced it with his spell.

Darnand dropped to his knees beside them.

“Poison,” gritted Jerric. “It hit her fast, and it’s still working. Do you know the spell—”

But Darnand was already gone.

Jerric kept one hand on Lildereth and reached for his magicka potion. He tried to estimate how long he could continue the healing spell, but dead faces crowded his mind. Every one of his failures that had cost a friend’s life. He gulped his potion and kept fighting.

Lildereth’s heartbeat slowed. He couldn’t feel her breathing under his hands any more. “Lildereth,” he started, and then he just talked. A tear slipped down the side of her face.

Then Darnand was there with a vial and a quiet word. Jerric kept healing the damage after the poison stopped, even after Darnand’s magicka joined his own. Eventually Lildereth opened her eyes, but she lay still and pale, not speaking.

After a long moment, Jerric cleared his throat. “That was clumsy, elf.”

“I know,” rasped Lildereth. “The door trap. I was fooled.”

“The hanging mace was only a decoy,” Darnand explained to Jerric. “There may be traps that we’ve missed. We must use more caution.”

“Where did you get the cure potion?” Jerric asked him. He took a swig of water and offered it to Lildereth. She pushed herself up to sit.

“The necromancers’ alchemy lab. I knew they would have them if they were brewing poisons here. Thankfully they use the Guild’s enchanted glassware.” Darnand fixed a glare on Jerric. “The shelves were in complete disarray, with much of their contents strewn on the floor. I was lucky to find the right potion amidst that disaster. It looked as if there had been a fire. What happened in there?”

“Uh…”

Lildereth took the empty vial from Darnand. “This isn’t mine? I always have at least one in my pack.” She took another sip of water. “I’m surprised you don’t carry one, Jerric.”

“Yeah, I probably should. I’ve been poisoned enough. But it’s not exactly easy to dig through bottles during a fight. By the time I can, the damage is done. Then I just use my Jerric’s Juice and heal.” Talking steadied his hands again. He shrugged. “I guess I’m harder to kill, though.”

Darnand took the canteen from Lildereth. “I was brought down by destruction magic at Fort Strand, and now you have been poisoned.” They both looked at Jerric.

“I’m next, is that it? I’ll watch out for Nords with swords. And axes. And summoned daedra.”

“And frost,” said Lildereth with a twist of her lips. “You’re the one who took out Darnand.”

Jerric grinned at her and reached for his canteen. All at once he felt his own heart beating. “I guess you’re feeling better, sprig. Break time’s over. Let’s get back to work.”

What an intense chapter from about half-way through till the end! The bond of friendship growing slowly between Lildereth and Jerric took a good sized step in this chapter and was tangibly written - Awesomely Written!! Great Write, Grits !!

Ugh, I hate necromancers. I’m with Jerric in that first paragraph.

This cave just keeps getting prettier.

…opened a crack into the Void and pulled his scamp through. It charged straight toward the necromancer with a cackle of glee and a whoosh of flame.
You gotta love those little sh!ts!

Lildereth?
That was scary. Holy crap Grits!

Usually Aravi ends up taking the route Jerric does. Heals the damage when it’s past. That must have been a very potent one though. Yikes!

I liked the description of the cold storage room. Positively revolting. At least it was cold. Imagine if it was warm?

As soon as Jerric moved through the door, he could hear the wind howling through the rocks above them.
This was a thoughtful touch. Now we know where the cave got its name.

Once the fight started he would kill anything that lay in his path.
Now that is Jerric doing what Jerric does best!

so he opened a crack into the Void and pulled his scamp through.
A wonderful description of summoning a deadra. Also I noticed that Jerric was staying in the sweet spot in his fight against the zombies - chopping and stepping back out of range of their arms (at least the arms they had left ).

But it’s not exactly easy to dig through bottles during a fight.
What, he cannot stop time while he looks through is inventory of 200 potions?

And Lildreth felled by a trap. Very clever on the part of the necromancers (and yourself). It was a gripping scene, as she slowly slipped away (alliteration FTW!), while Jerric desperately tried to hold off the damage. One can easily picture Darnand feverishly tossing one potion after another aside in the ruins of the alchemy lab, searching for the Cure Poisons. In fact, I would swear it was an episode of Farscape!



nits:
Perhaps this chamber once exited to that hillside.
Since this is a question, I suggest using a question mark rather than a period at the end.

’Jerric could not imagine why anyone would do that. Darnand’s face wore a look that was equally disgusted and curious. A hiss from Lildereth brought them both back to attention. ‘
Three sentences that perfectly define our three amigos!

’Orange flames smothered the zombie’s pink glow. ‘
Beautiful in its colorful lethality.

’Perhaps this chamber once exited to that hillside.’
Perhaps it did? Perhaps it did not. I see this as perfectly legitimate as either a question or a statement.

’Jerric grinned at her and reached for his canteen. All at once he felt his own heart beating. “I guess you’re feeling better, sprig. Break time’s over. Let’s get back to work.”
Aww, thanks for leaving us with a happy ending after such a tense episode.

Right, I was enjoying it immensely, and then this line came along...



And then the hairs on the back of my neck stood up for the rest of the chapter...

Oh. My. God.

Absolute brilliance...Amazing stuff...

Love it!!!...

Nice one!... ...

mALX: Thank you, mALX! I'm glad you for highlighted the growing friendship between Lildereth and Jerric. Remember the hard time she gave him when they first met? They’ve come a long way!

King Coin: You’re right about the potency of the poison, I gave the necromancers as much credit as Lildereth for their poison making. I never felt threatened by damage poisons in Oblivion, and then a chaurus nailed Rowan in Skyrim. The trapped chest was inspired there, too. Oh, and using the advanced alchemy idea here comes from the game glitch that gives those necromancers hundreds of potions. Really, they should be pushing around shopping carts with all of that in their inventory! Thanks, KC.

SubRosa: It’s neat, you can actually hear whistling wind in the game. That chop and step back gave me trouble, since Jerric’s fight was all in the corridor and very boring. Finally I just cut most of it out. It’s funny, I thought of Farscape too, because in the first season Crichton and Sun are constantly “falling” into each others’ arms! I promised L and J that I would not make it a habit.

Acadian: Those three sentences that you pointed out just wrote themselves, and I didn’t really notice it. Now that you’ve drawn it to my attention, it’s my favorite moment in the episode. Thank you for that! The orange and pink is a flashback to the fun we had vampire hunting with Aravi. That happy ending was the last thing to click into place. I had to wait until it did, because I was not going to leave Lildereth lying on that floor!

McBadgere: Thank you, McB! And you did it to me first, with Aeirawen and the crossbow bolt! Only we had to wait days to learn she’s better than OK.

Where we are: Meridia’s task has been successfully completed. We find Darnand and Jerric at the Shrine of Sanguine, Daedric Prince of Naughty.



Chapter 13: Part Eight, Sanguine

Darnand walked up the hill toward the Shrine of Sanguine with Jerric at his side. Nerves made his stomach feel tight. It was easy to see that Jerric shared his disquiet.

“What’s it like to talk to a Daedric Prince?” asked Jerric.

“It is as if one's skull has opened and the words are laid upon the exposed mind.”

“Ugh,” said Jerric. “I can’t wait.”

“Meridia’s voice was not precisely painful. Though I expect that it might have been so, if we had returned to her with news of failure.”

“Yeah. But instead she called you a champion and gave you a ring. I wonder what Arkay thinks about that.”

Darnand preferred not to dwell on that subject. He had performed invocations to Arkay over the desecrated bodies in Howling Cave and then hastened to Meridia’s shrine to receive her favor. The sense of wrong lingered. “I hope that our deeds are weighted more than our motivation.”

Jerric still looked concerned. “I know it might be different here, but what do you think the summoning ritual will be like?”

“His coven will decide if we may approach with our offering. It will be up to the Prince himself to speak to us, if we please him. There was no ritual in the sense that we use to bring lesser daedra bodily into this realm. Our presence at the shrine should be enough to attract his attention.” Darnand fervently hoped this was so. He was not inclined toward debauchery, and his only dark passions were of the mind.

They reached a flat, open area furnished with benches and chests. A giant statue loomed ahead, beyond the hill’s crest. Darnand could see Sanguine’s horned head and fleshy torso rendered in stone, but the rest of him was hidden. Like Meridia’s, this shrine was concealed by the land but readily accessible to those who knew where to look.

A bald wood elf trotted down from the shrine to meet them, silken robe flapping open around his bare legs. Darnand’s stomach heaved again. He felt the bottle neck slip in his sweaty palm. The Bosmer halted in front of them, blinking up expectantly.

“We wish to visit the Shrine of Sanguine,” said Darnand.

“You have nearly reached it,” chirped the Bosmer. “This is our place of celebration. We dance, we make love. Will you join us in our worship, or would you speak with the Lord Sanguine?”

“We would speak with him,” Darnand replied. Jerric shot him a look. Darnand had to agree that he did not sound anxious for hedonistic revelry.

“Have you brought an offering?” asked the mer, hands on hips.

Darnand held out the bottle of Cyrodiilic brandy.

“Splendid! I see you are not mere tourists. Approach then, and bring the gift for your host. We have a number of celebrants presently at worship, but you really should return for one of our parties. The Pleasure Pavilions are heated and fully supplied. You will not need anything else.”

Jerric and Darnand exchanged an uneasy look. “All right then,” said Jerric. “Let’s go.”

“Oh, no!” laughed the elf, pointing a playful finger. “You will not need to bring anything else.”

Darnand realized what the underdressed mer meant just as a crescendo of squeals drifted down from the shrine. Panic iced his skin. Whatever unseemly demands were about to be made of him, he was certain he would be unable to rise to the occasion.

Jerric’s hand engulfed his shoulder as the Nord braced himself to pull off his boots. “I guess I’d better handle this one,” said Jerric.

Thank the Nine, thought Darnand. Then it occurred to him that he ought to leave the Divines out of this.

“My name is Engorm,” smiled the Bosmer, looking Jerric over.

His friend did not seem bothered. “I’m Jerric. Pleased to meet you.” He took the bottle and sauntered away, leaving Darnand clutching an armful of warm laundry.

Darnand settled himself on a bench to wait. Two nights of camping at Doomstones had left him exhausted and irritable. Jerric alone had gained a new spell at the Aetherius Stone. Neither of them could determine why these Stones would not awaken for Darnand. He had spent most of both nights kneeling on cold rock while Jerric kicked and groaned in his sleep.

It could have been moments or an hour later when Jerric strode back over the hill. His friend looked completely at ease despite the chill. He has forgotten that he is unclothed, Darnand decided. He amended that thought when the brandy fumes reached him. Wordlessly he began to hand Jerric his clothing.

“Well?” Darnand asked as Jerric fastened his belt.

“I got off easy, compared to some. I guess you don’t have much left to prove if the Daedric Prince of Debauchery already knows your name. Anyway, I have to go pull a prank in Leyawiin. Sanguine thinks the countess throws boring parties.” Jerric stomped into his boots. “Leyawiin. Dammit! I thought I was just going to have to hump a couple of those daedra worshippers. At least that would have gotten this business over with.” Jerric gave Darnand’s arm a squeeze. “It’s a good thing you stayed down here. Sometimes you see a thing and just can’t look away, and you don’t have anything handy to gouge out your eyes.”

“I am surprised you are not planning to return for one of their orgies,” Darnand remarked.

“No thank you. I don’t need to read that scroll to know how it ends.”

Darnand shot him a curious look.

“Well here’s how it would go,” Jerric explained. “You show up in your best shirt to find that Engorm fellow and a crowd of his friends who look just like him. Where are the women, you wonder. Then you realize that some of them are women. The minstrels start to play, and someone passes a bottle around. Now you’re dancing, and some more attractive women have shown up. Or maybe they’re the same ones, but who could tell? More empty bottles hit the ground, and you lose track of who’s doing what to who. And what does it really matter? Then you wake up with a sore head and discover that it wasn’t just a dream.”

Darnand opened his mouth, but no words presented themselves.

“Not that it’s ever happened to me,” Jerric added. “But that’s the thing about orgies. They’re always full of folk that you wouldn’t normally take for a ride.”

They started walking back to the horses. “When is this party?” asked Darnand. “I should not like to change our plans. Leyawiin will mark the end of our journey, or the turning point if we return over land.”

“He made it sound like it could be any dinner party. She does a lot of entertaining. Countess Caro, she’s the one I have to prank. Abiene’s folk live in Leyawiin, I wonder if any of them will be there. I guess they're in amongst the nobles pretty often. You know, moving up through the ranks. That’s why she acts so prim and proper all of the time.”

Darnand gave Jerric his full attention. “What is your meaning?”

“You grew up in a ‘good’ family, right?”

“Indeed.”

“Me too. But we had our place, and we didn’t try to change it. Didn’t stop me from doing what I pleased. Pissed off my Ma plenty, but she always forgave me. Well, I did move to Anvil for a couple of years, but you know what I mean.”

Darnand sought his patience. “My grasp on your thread of reasoning is tenuous.”

“What I mean is, no matter how I screwed up, I knew my family would be there. I was never afraid of losing them. I don’t think Abiene has that. She still feels like she’s being judged all of the time.” Jerric looked over expectantly.

“I suppose you are right,” said Darnand. “I never considered straying outside my father’s guidelines. His expectations seemed reasonable.”

“You mean you never wanted to get legless in the market square, draw private parts on a statue, or throw a hump into the wrong girls?”

“Such behavior would not have been becoming to a member of my family. Our standing in the community meant visibility, and with that came responsibility.”

“So, yes, but you didn’t.”

Darnand finally understood. “Whether I was born to fill a role or whether I grew to fill it, I do not know. The result is the same. It seems that you felt free to sink beneath your station. I am uncertain what you are saying about Abiene.”

“I’m not saying anything about Abiene,” Jerric said quickly. “That’s just what got me started thinking. My family is gone, but even standing back there bare as a Billy and knee deep in a cluster-hump, I wouldn’t have to worry about my Fa turning away from me. You played the good lad, but your brother threw you out anyway. Abiene’s folks are still living. Even on the other side of Cyrodiil she feels like Countess Caro is watching her.”

Darnand thought about it. “I know that my father would… No, there are things of which he would not approve. And yet I will still pursue them. If he gave me any legacy, it is confidence in my own judgment.” They walked for another moment. “Countess Alessia Caro of Leyawiin is the daughter of Countess Valga of Chorrol. I have met them both.”

“Yeah?”

“Alessia Caro is quite short,” said Darnand. “But she has an impressive bust for an Imperial.”

“Good,” Jerric grinned. “The prank has to do with getting naked.”

SPEW !!! ROFL !!!! Jerric: always at the ready to perform if needed, ROFL !! The whole second half of this chapter had me rolling !! Awesome Write !!

I just hope this part is not based on original research.

“It is as if one's skull has opened and the words are laid upon the exposed mind.”
This is a wonderful description. Much better than just listening to a thick Scottish accent.

I also loved Jerric bringing up Arkay, and Darnand's musings on how he said prayers to Arkay over the bodies, then went to Meridia for the loot. It could easily look hypocritical. But at the same time, welcome to polytheism. In such religions, you do not ignore every deity except one. In this case, there are two deities with a common interest - the eradication of necromancers and undead. There is no reason mortals should not to turn to each for help in accomplishing that goal.

So Jerric is off to join the mazola party! I am guessing this will not get mentioned in any letters back to Abiene. Like Falanu told Varla, what happens at the Sanguine Shrine, stays at the Sanguine Shrine!

Neither of them could determine why these Stones would not awaken for Darnand
Because he is an NPC, rather than a player character?

Aww, it looks like Jerric did not get any action at the party. Just as well, he would have needed to eat some mandrake afterward.

Sometimes you see a thing and just can’t look away, and you don’t have anything handy to gouge out your eyes.
You have just described nudist beaches to a tee. Orgies too. I have had the opportunity before too, and always declined. Like Jerric, that is a scroll I do not need to read to know the ending.

Darnand's brother threw him out? Was that in a past episode? If so, I apologize for forgetting it. My guess is that Darnand is the second son then, and so does not inherit anything. IRL, men like him often joined the clergy. Joining the Mages Guild is a very similar alternative. Over in the TF, Valerius is a third son, so all he got was a horse, a suit of armor, and a sir in front of his name. That is why he is a landless mercenary.

This was delightful! So much so that I barely missed dear Lildereth. Sanguine is surely my favorite quest in the game and I can think of no one to whom it is better entrusted than Jerric.

I can only imagine how much fun you had writing this, and love how you brought out the ‘hedonistic revelry ever so much better than the game does.

Darnand is right. That is quite a hike to Leyawiin, so I know he was pleased that Jerric learned their timing for this was not overly critical.

Can I tell you again how much fun this whole episode was to read?

Jerric slipped his bare foot into his mouth somewhat regarding Abiene, but somehow managed to emerge from that conversation unscathed.

’Darnand sought his patience. “My grasp on your thread of reasoning is tenuous.”
Oh gosh, I like this so much. Firstly, your word choice and construction of this passage is pure magic – I am so jealous! Secondly, it captures Darnand to a tee. Thirdly, how fun it is to have a character who is such an academic intellectual that he can think and speak the way he does.