Previously: Darnand and Lildereth made a plan to contact Baurus.


Acadian: Thank you, Acadian! Lil is a delight to write. You’re right, Darnand is never going to enjoy having a Nord inside his head. But being Darnand, he wants them to be very good at it!

SubRosa: Yikes, instead of cloak and dagger, Persephone is cloak and greatsword. I still chuckle remembering planning the scene where Darnand cracks the code. I had all these Jerric-style struggles and variations in mind, then Darnand sat down and knew it immediately. He can be so annoying! Thank you, SubRosa!


Next: Baurus, James Baurus.

Chapter 18: The Path of Dawn, Part Five

Darnand stood for a moment in the entry, letting his eyes adjust. Most of the patrons ignored him. The muscular Redguard seated at the short end of the bar met his eyes without any pretense of manners. He wore a katana at his hip. Baurus.

A woman in a worn dress and clean apron swiped her rag across a nearby table. “Care for a meal, sir? Drink?”

“No thank you. I shall take a seat at the bar.”

“Suit yourself.”

Following Jerric’s advice, Darnand walked slowly keeping his hands relaxed and visible. He placed his bag on the bar and sat down diagonally opposite Baurus.

The publican tipped his head back at Darnand in that odd way that some men use to greet one another. “What’ll you have?”

“I should like a glass of your house red, if you please.” Darnand withdrew his coin purse from the bag, leaving it open to expose the three book spines to Baurus. He and the publican exchanged coin for goblet. Then the Imperial walked to the far side of the bar.

Baurus flipped the bag closed.

“I am Darnand Penoit, a friend of Jerric’s. He is detained. I am here in his stead.”

Baurus took a sip from his tankard, letting his gaze drift around the room. “Baurus. What have you found out?”

“The fourth volume can only be obtained from a cult member.” Darnand placed Gwinas’s note beside his bag. “Gwinas had arranged a meeting with a Sponsor. He has decided against taking it.”

Baurus fixed his eyes on Darnand.

A chill went down his neck. “Jerric was surprised that the message came from his Aunt here in the city,” Darnand said. “He expected her letter to originate in the north.”

“Who has him?”

“Forgive me. I meant that he is delayed. To my knowledge he is not in anyone’s custody.” Brother Venco had been adamant that Jerric not be imprisoned and interrogated. Darnand did not want to accidentally cause a death squad to be sent to Morrowind.

Baurus folded the note and placed it back on the bar. “This just might be the break we’ve been looking for. Good work! We need to get that fourth book, then. If Tar-Meena is right, we can use them to locate the hidden shrine. They’ll pay for the murder of the Emperor. Once we know how to find them, it will only be a matter of time.”

“The code we have thus far reads, ‘Green Emperor Way, where Tower touches.’”

If Baurus was impressed, he didn’t show it. “Clever to hold the meeting in the sewers. They run underneath the whole city, with access points in every district. They can use them to move around without attracting attention. That’s what we do.”

“You are familiar with the Sunken Sewers?”

“Yes. Where is Gwinas now? We can question him after we get the fourth volume.”

Though Darnand had the same idea, he hesitated. “If we fail to acquire the final volume—”

“Do you know his whereabouts?” Baurus spoke softly, but his tone made Darnand want to back slowly away.

“Is it correct to address you as Sir Baurus? Jerric told me you were a member of the Emperor’s Dragonguard.”

“That’s correct.”

“Sir Baurus—”

“But I prefer that you don’t call me that.”

Darnand chose his words carefully. “We shall make them pay for what they have done. Jerric would say the same were he here. However it is not yet a crime to be a daedric scholar, nor to be a collector of daedric miscellany. I should not like for Gwinas to suffer more terror at my hands. Once I explained my purpose to him, he was swift to offer his cooperation.”

Baurus gave Darnand a long look. “Let’s go. I know that part of the sewers well.” He walked straight to the tavern’s main door without glancing back.

Darnand collected his belongings and followed, keeping a discreet distance behind Baurus. After only half a block the Blade turned into an alley. Here stacked shipping crates and barrels provided shelter for those inclined to public urination, judging from the smell. The alley opened into a sparsely planted courtyard. A raised, circular grate sat not three strides from a well.

Resolving to never again drink Elven Gardens water, Darnand walked to the sewer grate. He recalled Jerric’s tale of Baurus baiting a cultist into following him to a messy end in Luther Broad’s cellar. If Baurus intended him harm, Darnand would know within the next few moments.

Baurus lifted the metal grate and held it for Darnand. “Stick together,” Baurus muttered. He climbed down after Darnand, lowering the cover back into place.

Baurus did not attempt to murder him. Nor did he produce a torch, so Darnand refrained from casting a light spell. The ubiquitous cave fungi’s ghostly luminescence provided insufficient light for his peace of mind. When the clicking grumble of a mudcrab echoed through one chamber, Darnand cast a short-range life detection spell.

The crab’s purple life sign indicated unusual size and vigor. Baurus went around it without comment. Darnand followed. He supposed that while they did not seem to be sneaking, fighting every creature they encountered would draw as much attention as a light.

Sewer rats were more aggressive than the overgrown mudcrabs. When necessary, Baurus defended himself with his katana. Darnand kept his fire spells neatly contained.

Passing through some sort of water gates soaked them both to the thigh. Darnand ignored the floating matter that bobbed and bumped into him. Instead he thought about the complications one might encounter using sewers as primary travel routes. How did Baurus prevent the stench from following him in a plume? How did the cultists?

When they encountered goblins, Baurus called his targets. “This one’s mine!” Thanks to the Blade’s speed and agility, none managed to injure the two humans.

Eventually Baurus stopped outside a closed door. Stone stairs hugged the wall going up, making a turn at the top.

He spoke in a hushed tone. “All right. The room with the table is just through this door. I always wondered who put it there. I happen to know that if you go up the stairs there, you’ll get a vantage point on the meeting room. I think I’d better be the one to handle the meeting. You’ll be my backup. Keep watch from above in case of trouble.”

“They know who you are, Baurus. I will meet the Sponsor.”

“No, it should be me. I have a blood debt to repay these Mythic Dawn assassins. Besides, I’ve trained for this kind of thing my whole life.”

“We must exercise caution. Remember why you assigned this task to Jerric. If you are recognized, they may simply vanish. I understand your desire to spill their blood. Take heart. Should our plan go awry, I shall rely upon your training to keep me alive.”

“Very well, we’ll do it your way. Be careful, and remember, we can’t leave here without that book. It’s our best chance of getting the Amulet back.”

“I am ready.”

“Okay, let’s do this.”

Darnand dispelled his life detection, concerned that the Sponsor might perceive it and become suspicious. He watched Baurus silently climb the stairs then turn into the doorway and out of his sight.

His door’s hinges made a metallic squeal when he pushed it open. On the other side he found a high-ceilinged chamber, dry apart from a trickle through drainage troughs in the floor. Above his head a walkway stretched across the room. Baurus must be hiding there, having entered through the doorway on the right.

A small table with a single chair stood near an iron-gated doorway. Candles provided enough light to see to the chamber’s corners. Sweat prickling his chest and armpits, Darnand walked over and took a seat. He placed the three volumes of Commentaries on the Mysterium Xarxes on the table. His bag’s shoulder strap hooked over the chair back as if he was in some library or kahve shop.

Almost immediately an Altmer wearing a blood-colored robe entered through the iron gate. He appeared unarmed. A ring gleamed on one black-gloved hand. He strode to the table and loomed over Darnand, his back to the walkway.

“You are not the Bosmer Gwinas,” he intoned.

Darnand had not prepared for the fury that surged through him. He spoke slowly in the hope that his voice would not betray him. “Gwinas was not worthy of having his name cut into our Lord’s book. I took his red-drink and offered it to the Garden of Dawn. Will you act as my Sponsor?”

The Altmer bowed his head as if accepting an honor. “I am Raven Camoran.”

“Darnand Penoit.”

Raven began to pace in the way of the pompous and arrogant. “So. You want to become one of the Chosen of Mehrunes Dagon. The Path of Dawn is difficult, but the rewards are great. I have the book you seek. With it and the Master’s three other books, you will possess the key to enlightenment. But do you have the wit and strength to use the key you have been given? If so, I will see you next at Dagon’s Shrine. Yes, I think you may...”

A dim light appeared in the doorway at the walkway’s far end, opposite the one which Baurus must have entered. Torchlight.

Camoran might be carrying the fourth volume on his person. The books were certainly charmed against wear, but Darnand did not wish to test the enchantment with fire. He brought a shock spell to the front of his mind. “I do not think that I will see you there.”

A shout and the sound of daedric summoning came from the upper left doorway. An instant later, two armored figures charged onto the walkway, their attention directed at Baurus’s end. One held a torch.

“You were instructed to come alone!” Camoran cried. “Brothers, kill them! The Dawn is Breaking!”

“For Uriel Septim!” Baurus howled.

As Raven raised a hand into the air, Darnand pushed back from the table, knocking it over. The candles snuffed out on the floor. Lightning bolts shot from his outstretched palms and met the shield that Camoran cast on himself.

The Altmer staggered but kept his feet. He whipped a hand forward. As Darnand dived behind the table, Camoran’s shock spell sent it flying.

Every spell that came to mind ended in fire. Cursing his lack of preparation, Darnand heaved the chair at Camoran. Baurus leaped from the stairs, landing in a deep crouch. As the Altmer regained his balance, Darnand’s shock spell knocked him backward. A bloody blade appeared protruding from his abdomen. Baurus pushed Camoran off of his katana, twisting the blade as the Altmer dropped to his knees. His scream ended when Baurus sliced off his head. Blood spattered in an arc which included Darnand.

“That’s three more that won’t be reporting back to their Master,” said Baurus.

Darnand wiped a sleeve across his face. “You preening, flap-tongued canker,” he growled at the blood pooling between Camoran’s head and body. “Your pestilent cult took everything from him. He loved his family more than his own life, and you took them all.” Darnand slowed and deepened his breathing to help his heart rate return to normal. This anger was not going to simply fade away.

Baurus cleaned his blade. “That could have gone smoother. Can’t say I minded killing a few more of these bastards, though. Get the book and let’s get out of here.”

Darnand patted Raven’s corpse, avoiding the spreading evidence of death. As expected, the Sponsor had a copy of the fourth book tucked into his robe. Darnand also helped himself to what turned out to be an enchanted ring. A fire shield. This will be useful in your Lord’s Deadlands. You cursed, soulless—

“That’s the book we need?” asked Baurus.

The volume’s weight in his hands brought Darnand back to himself. He turned his attention to the text. “‘Green Emperor way, where Tower touches midday sun’.” He snapped it closed. “As I suspected. The books mention bringing four keys. Jerric is adamant that we give copies to Tar-Meena, but I believe we will need all four volumes to gain entry to the shrine.”

Baurus jerked his chin at the walkway above. “Let’s check back there. They must dwell here if they’re ready to pop out every time a potential cultist comes calling. I’ll wager they keep a supply somewhere.”

The cultists indeed kept a supply in their nearby living quarters. Baurus handed copies of the first three volumes out of a trunk. “Today’s your lucky day. Take these to Tar-Meena. If you catch her in the morning, you can get to Green Emperor Way in time to figure out the tower business.”

“It will be the White Gold Tower,” Darnand said. “Once I know the shrine’s location, where should we meet?”

“At The Foaming Flask in the Talos Plaza district. Tell your elf that I won’t be followed. I look forward to meeting her.”

“Her name is Lildereth.”

Baurus reached his arm out and clasped Darnand’s. “Take care, Penoit. I’m glad to have you on our side.”

I assume Darnand's anger at Raven Camoran relates to Kvatch, but maybe that part needs a more direct reminder? It reads like it's a personal grudge against Raven himself.

Otherwise a nice adjustment of the vanilla to the non-standard personnel. Was most of Raven's dialogue straight from the game? I'm looking forward to finding out what devious stuff Lil's getting up to in parallel to this.

Nit: Cameron, Camoran, and there could have been other spellings I didn't notice.

Wonderfully done! As ever, it is fun traveling with Darnand and enjoying his very different storytelling, ways of speech and mannerisms (compared to The Nord).

I loved the very hard edge you put on Baurus that rendered him into quite the imposing character.

The brief fight scene was perfect, with wonderful descriptions of magic vs magic vs blade.


Nit: ’Sweat prickling his chest chest and armpits, Darnand walked over and took a seat.’ - - Looks like an extra leftover ‘chest’.

Ewwww, public urination crates!

Crabs of unusual size? I don't think they exist...

What a gross trip through the sewers. I hope Darnand knows a Cleanse spell to get it all off of him afterward.

Looks like Baurus went to the Persephone school of spycraft: We go in and kill everyone!

Nice play by Darnand with the explanation of why he is not Gwinas. He's pretty good at playing the evil wizard. Maybe a little too good?

Baurus definitely went to the Persephone school of spycraft!

Yah! Congrads on getting that Mysterium tome. Hopefully Baurus won't double-cross somehow in the future. It's been that long since I've done the Main Quest, that I don't remember what exactly happens anymore during most of it.

I am referring mostly to the part when Darnand is looking at Baurus, glad he hasn't gotten murdered! Yikes.

Previously: Darnand and Baurus acquired the fourth volume of Mankar Camoran’s Commentaries, killing Raven CamOrAn in the process. (After all these years you’d think I’d get the names right!)


ghastley: Raven’s dialog was almost entirely from the game. You are correct in thinking that Lildereth is not sitting quietly in their inn room during all of this. I changed Darnand’s outburst a bit to hopefully make it clearer. He was very much surprised and confused by his emotion, but it wasn’t supposed to confuse the reader. Thank you, ghastley!

Acadian: Whoops, Darnand’s chest is not so imposing that it needs to be named twice. I’m glad you enjoyed this Darnand’s-eye view of Baurus. I always thought he must be much scarier than the Hero of Kvatch gets to see in the game. Thank you, Acadian!

SubRosa: MCOUSes! Glad you spotted that little tribute. Baurus finally got to spill some blood! He has been waiting for that all these months by himself in the IC. I imagine he might have gone on more of a Persephone-style rampage if they kept him waiting a few millennia. Evil wizard dialog does roll off Darnand’s tongue with alarming ease. Thank you, SubRosa!

Renee: A while ago in the story in an incident that doesn’t happen in the game, Darnand was snatched up and questioned by the new guy in charge at Weynon Priory, Brother Venco (also not in the game) and then released with Jerric. Darnand is still jumpy around the Blades. Thank you, Renee!


Next: Meanwhile, in Morrowind...

Chapter 18: The Path of Dawn, Part Six

Jerric pushed the door open, lifting his elbow for Nereli to duck underneath. Incense didn’t cover the smells of leather balm, solvents, and sweat. A Fighters Guild hall must smell pretty much the same in any province.

The large entrance chamber was empty apart from a uniformed guild porter. They exchanged nods, then made their way down a side passage to the common quarters lounge. There Kjestrid sat with Shamir-do at a low, round table. Kjestrid held a bracer on her knee, working at a buckle. Shamir-do was occupied with his arrows. None of the local Fighters Guild members seated around the room looked up or greeted them when they entered.

Jerric sat down at Kjestrid’s table. “Did you get a contract?” he asked.

“An extermination job. Some lady had rats in her basement.”

“Ha! You must have been the most overqualified rat catchers in Fighters Guild history.”

“Maybe so,” she said. “Any help from your mind-talking Breton?”

“I didn’t ask him for money, but we made some gold, too.” Jerric nudged Nereli, who still stood beside him.

“Doing what?” asked Kjestrid. “Drinking competition?”

“Show her.”

Nereli withdrew their earnings from her pocket with dramatic flair. Her presentation met trouble when she got the pouch tangled up in her tunic. Eventually she thumped it onto the table with a satisfying jingle.

“Mara’s heart!” Kjestrid exclaimed. “How did you get all this?”

Jerric gave Nereli a proud shove, making her stagger sideways. “This one’s a born bookmaker. She’s wasted on the Fighters Guild.”

“He did the work,” Nereli said, pointing unnecessarily at Jerric. “Rutting, dicing, and fighting. I just collected the coins.”

Kjestrid’s brows climbed high as an Altmer’s. “Do I want to hear this story?”

“Please,” purred Shamir-do, “this one must hear it.”

“There will be time on our way through Moonshadow,” said Jerric. Or we can all forget about it. “Where’s Gjaever?” He got up and began to walk toward their assigned chamber, affecting a tuneless whistle.

“Splitting wood and hauling water,” said Kjestrid. “Come on, elf, pull up a chair and favor us with some company.”

Nereli sounded like she’d remembered how to smile. “The first fight was with this big Cyrod,” she started.

Jerric turned back to make sure she told it right. “The s’wit picked a fight with me. Over the way I looked at his lady.”

“Ah,” said Shamir-do, “The Nord learns to speak as a local.”

“Jerric let the fetcher knock him down,” Nereli continued. “It was after he won us some gold cheating at dice.”

“The troll-humper tapped my nuts,” said Jerric. “I just took a little rest on the floor. I don’t throw fights, and I don’t cheat at dice. I play to win.”

“He means the Cyrod’s lady looked like a troll,” Nereli explained, her tone completely earnest. “That’s why he was looking at her.”

Jerric shook his head and mimed a large bosom.

Nereli ignored him. “They left and this orc started talking tough, so I used our dice winnings to make a wager. By then the Nord was back on his feet. She caught him under the chin and laid him out flat.”

“The orc laid Jerric flat,” Kjestrid said to clarify.

“I didn’t know there was a wager,” Jerric said. “Or that I was in another fight. And my eyes were still wet from the Imperial stone cracking.”

“I kept taking bets while she gave him a pounding. It looked bad for us, but I had a plan to slip out the side door if we lost. Then Jerric rose from the dead and got her around the neck.” Nereli demonstrated the choke with her own arm and throat.

“After that a couple of Dunmers thought they could take me,” said Jerric. “One of them got me with his heel. As pretty a hook kick as I’ve ever failed to duck. Once they stopped bleeding and everyone paid up, Nereli helped me put my teeth back in straight.”

Kjestrid squinted at him. “Straight compared to what?”

“Khajiit thinks there is more to this tale.”

Jerric gave his teeth an experimental rub. “Yeah, I had to pay for some elf furniture. And I think there’s some that I haven’t heard yet. Nereli can tell me later. Who wants a drink?”

Nereli had other plans. “After the fights Jerric boned some people in the alley. He doesn’t know I made them pay.”

Kjestrid’s expression made Jerric want to explain even more than he wanted to strangle Nereli. “It was only two people, one at a time like civilized folk. I needed to be sure my,” he gave his crotch a brief hoist, “didn’t, uh, receive lasting damage from the Imperial. The money part is news to me. Must have happened while I was outside.”

Nereli slowly shook her head, in thrall to the memory. “I never had any luck turning tricks in Mattapi. I should have been selling Nord rides instead.”

Shamir-do made a choking noise.

“Fur ball?” asked Jerric. He took the opportunity to wallop the Khajiit between his shoulders.

“Now I know you’re jesting,” said Kjestrid.

“A fight makes some folk randy,” Jerric said. “I merely helped out a new acquaintance or two. It wasn’t some kind of Dunmeri cluster hump.” He stifled a sigh.

Kjestrid said, “I mean I’m having a hard time seeing how you’re not the one who paid.”

Jerric placed a hand over his heart in a mock-wounded gesture.

Nereli had more to tell. “After we put his teeth back in we had a drink with some of the folk who didn’t lose money on the fights. When he went to the alley with just the one, her friends were jealous. I saw another earning opportunity. I told them for a price I would put in a good word. Also that he’s free-born and favored by Sanguine. Course, I thought I was lying about that last part.”

Kjestrid had abandoned her mending. “I guess you have Sanguine’s attention now. Is this going to cause trouble for us? With Azura?”

“I’m not any kind of daedra worshiper,” Jerric told her. “I have an agreement with Sanguine, nothing more. Though there’s no shame in that kind of work.” Saying so didn’t make it true. He had been acting like a self-indulgent idler, not a Knight Brother of the Blades. “Anyway now we have some money and I feel a lot more relaxed, if anyone wonders. How much did you get from the Redoran?”

Kjestrid was already counting coins. “With this and our rodent slayer earnings, enough to start Gjaever on his journey, pay our bills here, and buy a few days’ trail rations. It will be easier to transfer funds once we’re in Cyrodiil, so I’m not as concerned about the trip from Cheydinhal to Bruma. Shamir-do says that if we strike a bargain with Azura, her followers will take us through Moonshadow without charging for every little thing. Whatever Azura wants will be our price. If we don’t strike a bargain it will be a long walk or however long it takes us to save up the fares. We’ll have to pay with our swords either way. Or some of us with their wizard’s staff.” She snorted at her own jest.

“Let’s hope we strike a bargain,” Jerric said. “I need to get home to my friends.” Home. It wasn’t a place any more.

“I’m going to Moonshadow,” Nereli announced.

Shamir-do’s ears only flattened for an instant this time. He must be getting used to her.

“I’m not Gjaever, but I can help with whatever we need to do,” she continued. “I’m no more welcome here than I was in Mattapi. Redoran or no, they look at me like they can smell the ash. I only got so many wagers on the fights because the whole corner club wanted to see me lose.”

Jerric was torn between curiosity and the responsibility that knowing might bring.

Kjestrid saved him the decision. “What in the hells are you talking about?” she asked Nereli.

“I’m an Ashlander,” Nereli said, using the patient tone that made Jerric want to punch her. “I wasn’t born in the mountains or this city. I forget that you outlanders can’t tell one accent from another.”

“That’s because you all sound the same,” Jerric said.

“When we speak Tamrielic. I learned from the Redoran after I left home. My clan kept the old ways. I’ll be welcome in Moonshadow. You’ll see.”

“The next thing I’d like to see is an alchemist,” said Jerric. “Both of those lasses wanted to check me for crotch crawlers, as if any could find refuge on an elf. There’s no telling what sort of poles they’re used to climbing. I need to make a Cure Disease potion.”

Kjestrid pushed some coins across the table. “I suppose I can’t complain. You earned them.”

“You should go to a bathhouse, too,” said Nereli. “The wash basins here won’t splash that rind off you. You’re going to pollute the bed.”

“A good stable takes care of its horses,” Jerric said to Nereli before forgetting his point. He took the coins and rose to leave, tripping over a chair.

“Someone go with him,” Kjestrid said. “Or I’ll have to.”

“I’m drunk as a Nord,” said Nereli.

Shamir-do leaped to Jerric’s side. He linked their arms at the elbows in the way of Khajiiti friends. “Tell this one more about the boon Jerric has received from Sanguine.”

“Lies,” Jerric declared, letting Shamir-do steer. He thumbed his chest. “This is all Kyne’s handiwork.”


Dawn found the Bruma Fighters Guild members and their new recruit striding through the city. Blacklight’s laborers were already at work sweeping, scrubbing, and pushing hand carts. Jerric kept an eye out for Cyrodilic food or kahve stands, but saw none.

Gjaever walked in front beside Kjestrid. He wore a newly fitted netch hide jerkin, a second-hand pack, and a sort of cloak made from sleeping furs and a ground cloth. If he met any wolves or bears on his way through Skyrim, Jerric expected that they would take one look and choose to go a different way. The big Nord and the rest of the group parted ways at the city gate. Gjaever had already said his farewells. When the moment came he simply dipped his head in their direction and kept going.

Jerric, Kjestrid, Shamir-do, and Nereli stopped to watch him walk away. Then Kjestrid, who had the map, put their boots on the day’s road.

With Gjaever’s departure their number seemed diminished by more than one. Jerric kept an eye on Nereli to see what the Dunmer did when they passed fellow travelers. It seemed that no greeting was the preferred custom. Even casual eye contact was met with frowns. Perhaps they were considered lower status based on the Nords and Khajiit in their group.

The road was made of black crushed stone that made a grinding sound underfoot. A deep ditch ran along each side. He supposed that as in Cyrodiil, spring snow melt would bring seasonal flooding. Jerric was no stranger to trench-digging. The work that had gone into this road must have been considerable. He recalled a comment that Nereli had made on their walk down from Mattapi. ‘Nords don’t make the best slaves. They don’t last like Bretons.’ Looking at this road, he could guess which humans the masters had used on their building crews and which were more likely to be put to work indoors. No wonder his kind didn’t live very long. He began to understand Shamir-do’s persistent discomfort and anger.

Habit kept him scanning the roadsides for threats. The hills here were covered in low, clumpy grasses. Spiky plants as high as his waist stood among the rocks, their sword-shaped leaves edged in spines. The only trees at this elevation were single-trunked oddities whose twisting branches housed clusters of dagger-like leaves as long as his arm. The air felt crisp and dry despite the snow on the mountainsides. He found his waterskin nearly empty before he realized he had been drinking from it.

The trail to the hillside shrine was easy to find. Foliage had recently been cut away from the edges and dragged off rather than left in place. Probably to fuel the fires of pilgrims seeking refuge. Even before Kjestrid halted the group, a small sign bearing a moon and star confirmed his guess.

Kjestrid broke their long silence. “Nereli, you can go in alone, if it will improve your chances. We’ll give you time to get ahead of us.”

“I’ll stay with you,” said Nereli. “I told you the truth before. They’ll give me a place in Moonshadow, and I might help make your bargain favorable.”

The smell reached them at the same time they began to hear voices. A turn in the trail brought them within sight of a disorganized encampment. Shelters leaned against the rocks and scrubby trees. Elves squatted around fitful, smoky fires while their children stood in clusters, watching the newcomers with solemn eyes. Jerric recalled the joyful chaos at Meridia’s shrine in County Skingrad. That was a festival, he reminded himself. These folk are here because they have run away.

“Where..?” Kjestrid spoke in a hushed tone.

“This one will find out. Wait here.” Shamir-do shrugged out of his packs and strode off, his bearing as proud as a king’s.

Nereli had to scramble to catch up.

“I guess he’s more devoted than he let on,” said Jerric.

Kjestrid picked up Nereli’s packs. “Let’s find a spot and look like we belong here before someone comes along and gives us some chores.”

“Or a bill for the air we’re breathing.” Jerric shouldered the Khajiit’s belongings.

They hardly had time to chew up their mystery meat trail rations before a soft-faced Dunmeri lad in a pale orange robe found them. He bowed and made a graceful gesture. “If you please, come with me to the Sanctum.”

The farther they got from the camp, the cleaner and brighter became people’s clothing. These must be the attendants. About a third of them were Khajiit, half Dunmer, and the remaining few an assortment of mer and human. They wore all the colors of a coastal sunrise. If this was a small shrine, Jerric wondered what the big ones looked like.

The lad brought them past a series of outdoor altars to a round door in the side of a hill. Stone blocks made two wide steps up to a half-circle landing. Carved and painted tiles surrounded the door frame and arched lintel. Incense burned in bowls set on both sides of the top step.

Jerric noted that the door would swing inward. Nerves made him look above for traps. It was a small comfort to discover Kjestrid doing the same.

The Dunmer pushed the door open and stood aside, holding it for them.

Azura is one of the good ones. Her shrine won’t be decorated with butchered mortals. Jerric took a breath and stepped inside.

“Mara’s heart!”
This makes me think of an old comic - I think Neil Gaiman's Sandman - where someone swore "By the Iron D**K of Thor!"


The Fighter's Guild reminds me of the smell of Gym Class.

Rats! Why is it always rats?

For a moment when Jerric said that Nireli was a bookmaker, I thought it meant she actually made books... Doh!

Don't they know the first rule of Fight Club!!

So Nireli is an Ashlander. That explains the cool reception she has gotten from other Dunmeri.

The lack of Dunmeri greeting one another reminds me of something I saw recently about things in American culture that perplex Non-Americans. They don't understand why we all smile at one another and say hi, start up conversations, and otherwise make nice with total strangers.

Well, let's hope Azura's shrine is not decorated with butchered mortals...

Nereli did a great job relaying the boisterously profitable adventures of herself and the naughty Nord. Sounds like they make a good team. . . and Nereli seems to think so as well since she is now part of the Cyrodiil-bound crew.

Nicely described approach to Azura’s shrine. I’m looking forward to seeing the Mistress of Twilight!

Previously: The Morrowind crew made enough money to start their journeys. Gjaever headed off to the Dunmeth Pass. Jerric, Kjestrid, Shamir-do, and Nereli walked to the Azura shrine in the nearby hills.


SubRosa: This trip has a lot to do with cultural differences for Jerric, since he spent nearly his whole life in just two Cyrodiil counties. I would like to put Nereli in a game and see what she does. It would probably start with a rat quest! Thank you, SubRosa!

Acadian: Whew, I’m glad Nereli made some sense out of their story. Her and Jerric’s intoxicated ramblings had me scratching my head for a bit. Thank you, Acadian!


Next: The Shrine to Azura.

Chapter 18: The Path of Dawn, Part Seven

The entry chamber held tall vases filled with blooming branches and smelled like sweet incense. Kjestrid was directed to an alcove on the right side, Jerric to the left. Racks and benches held Shamir-do’s and Nereli’s armor, packs, boots, and clothing. Pink robes hung in a neat row with soft-soled slippers lined up along the floor underneath. Some of the robes were cut to accommodate tails.

Kjestrid began to undress. “Keep your drawers on,” she mouthed at Jerric. She pointed at her undergarments and shook her head to illustrate.

The robes ranged in size from Altmer to Ohmes. Jerric found a decent fit and a likely pair of slippers. His last clean drawers had been a casualty of the corner club incident. There was nothing to be done about that now.

The shrine lad produced a basin of water with flower petals floating in it. Jerric looked to Kjestrid for another directive, but she was still tucking and tying in her alcove. “How much of me is supposed to fit in that?” he asked the Dunmer.

“Just your hands, sera.” He tilted his head at the towel hanging over his arm.

Jerric dipped, wiped, and shuffled over to make room for Kjestrid.

A pleasant gong noise announced the inner doors opening. A grey-furred Khajiiti woman in a purple robe appeared and ushered them through. Here tinted glass lanterns produced a rose-colored light. Their guide led them down a curving corridor lined with doorways and various objects that Jerric guessed must be art. They passed a female figure as tall as an Argonian, her skin pale lavender with patches of purple scales. She held her bat-like wings folded across a heavily muscled chest. Either makeup or tattoos decorated her hairline and brow. Jerric tried not to stare.

When they stopped at an ornate doorway, their guide spoke in a low tone. “You enter now into the presence of our Lady Azura, Prince of the Crimson Gate, Mother of the Rose, and Queen of Twilight.” Her voice carried the typical Khajiiti burr, but the accent sounded Dunmeri.

This room must be the Sanctum. The only Azura Jerric could see was a white stone statue of a voluptuous woman surrounded by more of the flowering branches. Incense smoke curled in lazy tendrils past her outstretched arms. She held a sun-like curved star in her right hand and a crescent moon in her left. The statue’s carved eyes were blank and her hair only a smooth shape at the top of her head, but her bare torso was modeled in enough detail to make Jerric check his robe.

On the floor at the statue’s feet reclined another Khajiiti woman, this one older and plumper than their guide. She wore her hair in thin braids wrapped around a spiky gold headdress. Pillows made a sort of throne for her. Shamir-do sat cross-legged on a cushion at her side. Nereli knelt beside him, her palms flat on her thighs.

With a formal gesture their guide indicated that they too should sit. She sank into a kneeling position like Nereli. Jerric decided to emulate Shamir-do and sat cross-legged, managing not to wobble as he lowered himself to the floor.

“You have the honor of speaking to our Reverend Mother Ra’tayah, high priestess of the Order of the Evening Sun,” said their guide.

Jerric cleared his throat.

“How should we address her?” Kjestrid asked. She had settled between Jerric and their guide, completing the circle.

“Reverend Mother or Your Excellency. You may speak directly to Her Excellency.”

Jerric decided to let Kjestrid do the talking.

“Your Excellency, thank you for meeting with us,” Kjestrid said.

The Reverend Mother inclined her head. “Shamir-do has informed me that you are not counted among our Lady’s devoted. What brings you to our humble shrine?”

“We became stranded here after traveling through the Deadlands,” Kjestrid began.

A hiss and the rattle of talons sounded out in the corridor. The winged twilight. Skin crawled along Jerric’s neck.

Kjestrid quickly continued. “We entered through a Gate that had opened in County Bruma with the intent to close it. We are a patrol from the Fighters Guild. It was our good fortune that we have in our company Jerric Lionheart: Gate-Closer, Ice-Bringer, and Hero of Kvatch.”

The priestess turned her golden gaze on Jerric. “You are the one from Kvatch?”

Jerric stifled the urge to smack Kjestrid. “Yes, Your Excellency. I’m Jerric. Pleased to meet you.”

The priestess closed her eyes. For several moments the only sounds were the asthmatic hiss of the winged twilight’s breathing and the distant slow sweep of a broom.

“You have brought evil to this sacred place,” Ra’tayah said. “I sense it.”

Jerric’s mind was a blank.

“The sigil stone,” Nereli murmured. “I told you you should give it to the Redoran.”

“Oh! Uh, yeah. Yes, ma’am, your Reverend Mother. I have one of Mehrunes Dagon’s sigil stones.”

Ra’tayah opened her eyes to slits. “Why have you retained possession of it?”

“What do you mean? Ma’am?”

“Your Excellency,” Shamir-do hissed at him.

“She called you Gate-Closer,” said Ra’tayah. “I infer that you have closed at least one Gate before the one that brought you to Morrowind. What have you done with the other stones?”

“I’ve used a few. They hold powerful enchantments, better than any I could have made.”

Their guide drew in a shocked breath.

Jerric tried to remember what Darnand had said about them. “I’m no daedric scholar, Reverend Mother. What am I supposed to do with them?”

The priestess spoke in an icy tone. “Those sigil stones hold the power of a thousand captive souls. The ‘enchantments’ to which you refer are their imprints. You have noticed that they differ from one another? Those are the traces of lives lived and knowledge gained, all stolen by the foul minions of Mehrunes Dagon.”

“Oh,” said Jerric.

“Their spirits are now trapped, unable to reach the afterlives. You have used their soul energy to charm your trinkets. They pay the price, forever lost.”

Jerric’s stomach heaved. “I didn’t know. What can I do for them? Is there a way I can fix this?”

Ra’tayah rose to her feet, causing Nereli, Shamir-do, and their guide to quickly stand. “I will not have you bring the cursed thing into the Sanctum. Take me to your belongings.”

Jerric scrambled up and led the way to his pack. The sigil stone hummed against his palm when he withdrew it.

“Come, acolyte,” Ra’tayah said to the grey Khajiit, “And you, bring it. The others remain here.” The priestess strode down a side passage, hair beads clinking against her diadem.

Jerric followed Ra’tayah’s perfume trail into a small, dark chamber. As the acolyte closed the door, Ra’tayah flicked a shower of pink sparks from her palm. They floated up to the ceiling and hung there, lighting the space.

“To release the souls, you must destroy the sigil stone.”

“All right.” Jerric raised it over his head to dash it against the floor.

“No! With your will. You say you have used one to enchant an object. The process is the same. Simply intend its destruction.”

If he thought about it, he would never get it right. Jerric pushed the sigil stone with his mind. It dissolved as the others had, only this time instead of a flash of power through his body, a bluish cloud emerged from the shimmering dust. The cloud expanded outward and dissipated like a puff of breath in winter.

The priestess let out a long sigh, echoed by her acolyte. “It is done.”

“What happens now?” Jerric asked.

“The lost spirits will reclaim their souls, if they are able. Then they will have the strength to move on.”

“To Aetherius?”

“Some will enter the Dreamsleeve and separate, each spirit called to its Aetherial home while the souls are reborn in the Mundus. Others will travel to their Prince’s realm.” The priestess placed fingerclaws against her chest. “When this body dies, my soul will carry me to Moonshadow. There I will remain Ra’tayah. My life will continue in a new vessel of Azura’s making.”

Jerric braced a hand against the wall. “I gotta say, that has some appeal.”

The priestess bowed her head in acknowledgment.

“What about the stones I used for their enchantments?” Jerric choked back some bile. “Are those folk forever lost now because of me?”

“Break the enchantments and release the souls.”

“All right. Can I do it here?”

“You may.”

“Uh. Do you have a hammer?”

Kjestrid still had his brass and pearl Life Detection ring. Soon it lay smashed on the stone tiles along with his splintered soul trapping dagger and the shards of Redeemer. Thankfully Darnand had enchanted his Blades katana using conventional mean, albeit illegally.

"Wait, my dagger's enchantment wasn't fully charged. Did I just kill more souls?"

"I do not have all of the answers, Jerric of Kvatch." When Ra'tayah left the room, her little lights remained on the ceiling.

Kjestrid had brought the ring. She looked paler than usual. "I am sorry for… this," she said to Jerric.

"You didn't do anything. It's a mess of my own making."

"I know." She placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. "I'm just sorry about it."

"Damn it all, Darnand's signet ring! He's not going to be happy when I tell him to break it. Gods, and my helm is still in Bruma. He might need some help with that one." Jerric rested his chin on Kjestrid's hand. "I should go ahead and do it."

“Wait until we finish here. Then you’ll have more to say.”

“I might have damned someone I knew. All of them could have been made after Kvatch.” Jerric gathered his broken pieces. “I wonder what Azura uses to make her sigil stones.”

“Probably volunteers.”

Seated back in the Sanctum, Kjestrid picked up the thread of their discussion. “Reverend Mother, we have learned that Azura has offered shelter in Moonshadow to her devoted.” She gave Shamir-do a nod.

“This one has received an invitation to Azura’s realm,” said Shamir-do. “His devotions have been found adequate. However, in this life Khajiit will not abandon his friends. Shamir awaits Azura’s decision.”

“I’m going,” said Nereli.

Kjestrid addressed the priestess. “Your Excellency, we wish to return to County Bruma and take up the fight against Mehrunes Dagon and his cult. It would help us to travel through Moonshadow to Azura’s Shrine Gate in County Cheydinhal from a portal you open here. The Shrine Gate on Azura’s Coast is too far for our needs. We need a shorter journey.”

“I see,” said the priestess. “I will go into seclusion. Azura welcomes mortals to her realm, but there is always a price.”

Kjestrid got to her feet. “Yes, Reverend Mother. There always is.”

The acolyte led them back down the central corridor and into a side chamber. Low, round tables surrounded by floor cushions filled the middle of the space. Ornate screens stood around the edges. The acolyte moved through the room lighting incense and fluffing pillows.

When the winged twilight stalked in, the acolyte folded her hands in a formal manner. “This is Dozara. Please stay here with her until you are summoned. Khajiit will send Renlys to see to your comfort.”

“What’s your name?” Jerric asked.

The acolyte paused at the door. “This one is called Ma’sani.”

“Thanks, Ma’sani. Pleased to meet you.”

Dozara’s eyes were an opaque red-violet. She wore her hair in a high ponytail that fell to her shoulder. It was purple. With feet like those, Jerric doubted that she needed weapons.

“I’m Jerric.”

Dozara’s voice sounded perfectly normal. “So I have heard.”

“Pleased to meet you. Are you from Moonshadow? I mean originally.”

Kjestrid kneed the side of his leg.

“What?” said Jerric.

Renlys turned out to be the orange-robed Dunmeri lad. He came in with a tray, knelt beside a table, unloaded a bunch of plates and bowls, then left.

This was a welcome distraction. Jerric, Shamir-do, and Nereli sat around the table. After a moment Kjestrid joined them.

Renlys returned almost immediately with a coral-colored wine. The goblets looked like they had been made from seashells. The four made a silent toast.

“Tastes like apricots,” Jerric said. His stomach settled.

“It is made from loquats,” Renlys told him.

“What’s a loquat?”

“It is a fruit that tastes like apricots.”

Shamir-do reached into the middle of the table and helped himself to the food.

Jerric took that as an invitation and followed suit. The first thing he picked up looked like a thumb-sized roach carcass stripped of antennae and legs, green nuts pressed into the white mush oozing out of its middle. He popped it into his mouth whole and chewed. “Hmm. It’s sweet.”

“Is it a bug?” asked Kjestrid.

“Nope. It’s a date stuffed with whipped cheese and some kind of nuts.”

Kjestrid filled her hand with them. “What kind of cheese?”

Nereli started to answer, but Jerric interrupted. “The sweet kind.” He shot a look at Renlys.

The Dunmer kept his mouth straight, but his cheeks lifted with a hint of amusement.

While he sucked bits of date out of his teeth, Jerric looked over the rest of the food. Most of it was unidentifiable. All of it was bite-sized to a Bosmer with no obvious rinds or bones protruding, so he dug in. The meatballs were spiced with cloves and nutmeg. Saltrice patties had been rolled in some kind of tiny eggs that stuck to his fingers. He decided that while he could do without chairs, plates, and utensils, it would take some practice before he didn’t need a napkin.

There was still some food left when Ma’sani appeared in the doorway. She dipped at the knees and moved an arm in the now familiar gesture. “Follow Ma’sani, if you please. The Reverend Mother will relay to you Azura’s decision.”

Well, that got off to a poor start – sigil stones. . . who knew? It is good that Jerric was able to undo the damage the Reverand Mother told him about and that they were still able to receive an audience to ask for help.

A price? No surprise there and am looking forward to hearing of it.

Loved your descriptions, including the winged twilights. A fun episode, replete with good eats!

This kind of meshes with a view of "soul trapping" that would make any enchantment distasteful to the Reverend Mother. A Sigil stone is just a multi-occupant soul gem, the way it's described here. So does Jerric now have to start releasing the individuals from any other items at Grand level?

And I didn't understand why Jerric is trying to destroy the physical items he enchanted, rather than just disenchanting them in the way you do in Skyrim - except that he doesn't have the apparatus for that, either.

Liked the way Jerric avoided giving Kjestrid any idea what she was eating. The old Jerric would have suggested it was bugs, and asked her if he could have hers, if she wasn't going to eat it.

The flowered bowl and the rose colored light were nice touches for the Mistress of Twilight's hangout.

Their guide led them down a curving corridor lined with doorways and various objects that Jerric guessed must be art.
I sometimes have this problem too!

I liked the Winged Twilight in the corridor.

The sigil stones work just like soul gems then. I always thought Bethesda's way of enchanting by devouring/destroying souls are rather vile, to say the least. I guess it says something about Todd Howard...

That was a wonderful description of the Azurite feast, it brought me into the same room with them. Definitely a step up from the hot dogs I had for lunch.

That had me giggling, "guessed must be art."

Jerric decides he'll just let Kjestred do the talking. Cute. What is Kjestrid, by the way? Nord? Breton? ... Khajiit?





Hee hee awesome.




Sorry I keep quoting, but I'm laughing during this episode for some reason! Jerric is a hoot. I mean, it's a serious moment for sure, they're talking about souls trapped and how to release them. Jerric cracks me up though.

He really ate a roach? Yuck.

The word you put in Italics here = I couldn't find a definition for it anywhere. Can you give me one so I can picture what you are saying here?

I think my favorite part of this chapter is Jerric trying to explain how to bring the gate down to his group! This was pure gold!

Second favorite part:



LOVE how Jerric thought of Matias as the Hero of Kvatch; and that whole discussion about eating the Daedric hearts and drinking the blood! Also, how Jerric pointed out that people would be referring to all of them as heroes when they emerged from this gate.

And = as painful as that was = I remember one lesson that Jerric taught here:



Excellent that you added that! That was a superb addition = really showing us what Jerric went through and faced in those gates that made him return to Anvil a shell of his former self!

I finally was able to get another trial reader to use; so am trying to catch up!

Previously: Jerric, Kjestrid, Shamir-do, and Nereli met with the Reverend Mother Ra’tayah at a shrine to Azura near Blacklight. In the Imperial City, Darnand and Baurus acquired Volume 4 of Commentaries on the Mysterium Xarxes.


Acadian: Whoever has to wash Jerric’s robe will regret giving him finger food. The stuffed dates were courtesy of my favorite Lebanese restaurant. I’ve had them twice since I posted this section. Thank you, Acadian!

ghastley: Back in Chapter 10 Morvayn told Jerric that his Kvatch Cuirass was so damaged that the enchantment had broken, so Ra’tayah’s instruction made sense to him. I wonder if a Skyrim enchanting altar would work on an Oblivion sigil stone-enchanted object? I think you need a mod to disenchant Daedric artifacts in Skyrim. Probably to prevent the re-use of unique enchantments. Thank you for pointing out Jerric’s evolving view of Kjestrid.

SubRosa: Jerric’s world has differing views of what souls are for and what they do, but he’s learning that using any of them for his own purpose is questionable at best. A large part of him would prefer to go back to the days when he tired himself out defending regular folks and their luggage, had a bit of fun before passing out, and didn’t think about yesterday. Too bad! Thank you, SubRosa!

Renee: Kjestrid is a Nord. She’s from County Bruma but still steeped in Skyrim culture, unlike Jerric. That’s part of why he’s often a bit confused by her. He ate a stuffed date that looked like a roach. It was inspired by the dessert case at a local counter-service restaurant. I was waiting in line one day and thought, wow, those dates are huge and look just like disemboweled insects. Heh heh, I know who would eat one… Thank you, Renee!

mALX: Salj is a made-up word that means granular snow. Sorry, now I realize I haven’t updated the Darnandex. Thank you for pointing out those things about how the Gate brought Jerric back to his core purpose. He loves to distract himself. I’m glad you found a way to read again! Thank you, mALX!


Next: Where Tower Touches Midday Sun.

Chapter 18: The Path of Dawn, Part Eight

Morning mist lingered over Lake Rumare as Darnand crossed the bridge to the Arcane University. The entry court with its sunken garden was guarded but otherwise empty of mages. He had not considered that the hour which suited his plans might not suit Tar-Meena’s. The University’s message system did not extend to private quarters.

The Arch-Mage’s Lobby was dimly lit and quiet. One mage drowsed behind the reception counter, while another hunched over a notebook. To his surprise, Lildereth sat on a bench beside an Argonian woman. The elf had already left their room by the time he had awakened. He had expected her to find him at the White-Gold Tower. As she had changed their plan, he would have to trust her to guide him.

“Here he is,” Lildereth sang out. “Tar-Meena, please meet Darnand.”

Once Darnand and Tar-Meena had exchanged pleasantries, he retrieved the Commentaries from his shoulder bag.

“Ah!” Tar-Meena took the books without touching them with her claws. “The third volume!”

“As promised,” said Darnand.

Tar-Meena’s eyes held the glint of a guar-trader. “Not quite. Jerric promised me all four volumes. I took a grave risk giving the library’s Volume Two into his care. And I note that this is not the book that I lent to him.”

“Our associate and I retrieved these copies directly from a cult hideout,” Darnand said. “I thought you would relish the opportunity to examine them and observe any differences.”

“I do. However, a side-by-side comparison—”

“We still need them, my friend,” Lildereth said to Tar-Meena. “When the Nord is finished they will all be yours, including the final volume. He is a human of his word.”

“Which associate invaded the hideout with you?” Tar-Meena asked Darnand, bouncing up on her toes. “Jerric or Baurus?”

While Lildereth let out a silent laugh, Darnand fought to keep from palming his face.

Tar-Meena’s eyes opened wide in exaggerated comprehension. She placed a raised finger over the front of her snout.

Conscious of time passing, Darnand folded his hands in a respectful gesture. “Thank you, Master-Wizard. May we continue to count on your support?”

“Oh yes! I am most curious about the location of the hidden shrine. Do let me know when you find the Mythic Dawn!” Tar-Meena gave them a finger wave and turned toward the inner doors, tail conveying her excitement over an obscure text to devour.

Darnand bent to murmur into Lildereth’s ear. “The town criers, the Black Horse Courier, and Tar-Meena.”

“Isn’t she marvelous?” Lildereth giggled. “It’s too serious to be funny, but I can’t help it. How in all the worlds did she gain that Redguard’s confidence?”

“Utter guilelessness, I should think.” Darnand opened the outer door and bowed Lildereth through. He maintained his deferential posture as a lower-ranking mage while they remained within sight of the University. As they walked he watched for her cue to resume their guise as a married couple. Eventually she took his arm.

“I was surprised to see you at the University,” Darnand ventured.

“I used you as an excuse to be there. I knew you’d need to send a message and then wait for Tar-Meena, so I went and got her for you.”

“I see. What was your true purpose?”

Lildereth patted her satchel. “Getting my stones back.”

“Your stones… You cannot mean the Welkynd stones? Did you not trade them to Master Floria as payment for Master Illusion training? Do you mean to suggest that you are carrying them all on your person? You must have been born under the Warrior.”

“I can, I did, I do, and I wasn’t.”

They walked a full block without her explaining further.

“Lildereth. Please enlighten me.”

She shot him an unfathomable look. “This is one of those things that I should have told you about. And now you’re going to be annoyed.”

“You posses a burglar’s bag!”

“By the Green! Why don’t you speak up so that all of the guards can hear you? I was right not to mention it.”

Darnand made an effort to keep his voice even. “When I recall the number of occasions on which we left items behind due to their size and weight—”

“Oh, you’re entitled to pack your stuff in my bags?”

“That is not my meaning. It is a matter of trust. In this I now learn that we are unequal. I follow your lead without recrimination when you change the plan. I have placed my life in your hands, even coupled with you, yet you have so little confidence in me that you conceal the enchantments upon your luggage?”

Lildereth halted, one hand on hip and the other pointed at his face. “First, that was only once—”

“Twice.”

“It was one occasion, and second, I knew you’d suspect all kind of negative things about me if you knew I had it, and I was right because it’s called a load lightener not a burglar’s bag, and—”

“Does it not presently hold at least ten stolen Welkynd stones?”

“That’s irrelevant.”

“How does it work?”

“Like a burglar’s bag.” Lildereth seemed to wilt. “Well, now you know.” She took his arm and resumed their stroll.

“My friend, what has occurred?”

“You asked me not to bring it up again which I wouldn’t have done anyway, and then you did and not in a nice way.”

“No, I meant— I am sorry. It is my failing that I should compound the awkwardness between us.”

“I thought we were through with the awkwardness. Unless you’re in the grip of some new disappointment.” She gave him a narrow look. “Did you expect to sleep with me while we were here alone?”

“No. Please put that from your mind. It was wrong of me to raise the subject, and doubly so in such a churlish manner. Perhaps my ineptitude in emotionally charged moments has not escaped your notice.”

“I can’t do the Master level spells,” she said, ending that discussion.

“Oh. Lildereth, I am sorry.”

They walked in silence for a time.

“You cannot learn them, or you cannot cast them?” Darnand asked.

“Can’t cast. I know my people’s magic the way my heart knows to keep beating, but I’ve had to work hard for the rest. Harder than you, and harder than any Nord born under the Atronach, I’d wager. My stars didn’t make me a mage. Study and practice did. But that’s not enough.”

“I cannot cast Volanaro’s Mischievous Concealment spell, despite being blessed by the Apprentice,” Darnand offered.

“Blessed and cursed. He really should come up with a better name.”

“Indeed.” Darnand decided to risk a personal question. “What stars marked your birth?"

“The Steed,” Lildereth murmured.

“That resolves many mysteries. I simply assumed that you were fast.”

Lildereth gave him a crooked smile. “I am fast.”

“Regarding your Master spells, have you considered a strong potion and an enchanted—”

‘Darnand.’

He placed his hand over Lildereth’s. “Hold a moment. It is Jerric.”

“I’ll keep you from stumbling, if you trust me.”

There was no acceptable reply but to keep walking. ‘I hear you. Lildereth and I have given three volumes to Tar-Meena, as you promised. We have embarked upon our midday stroll in Green Emperor Way.’

‘Good idea to bring the elf with you. She’ll make you look normal.’

‘What news from Morrowind?’

‘We’re going through Moonshadow. Azura has a task for us in County Cheydinhal. She wants to meet us in person first. Any advice?’

‘I only heard the voice of Meridia in the course of our exchanges. I confess I am quite out of my depth in this matter. Do your best not to stare, no matter what form Azura presents to you.’

‘That’ll be hard if she looks like her statue. Listen, you’re not going to like this. You have to break the enchantment I put on your signet ring. And go get my Blades helm and break its enchantment.’

‘Please explain.’

‘It’s the souls that were in the sigil stones. You have to release them. I’ll tell you all she said when I see you. Darnand, I’m sorry. You have to do it.’

‘Who—’

‘Dammit, I have to go. There’s a whole bunch of folk here waiting to go through.’

‘What sort of portal… Nord?’ He was gone.

“We’re here,” said Lildereth. She tugged on his robe as if straightening it across his chest.

“Thank you, my dear ‘wife.’ It is pleasant to perambulate among the,” Darnand glanced around, “tombs, is it not?”

Lildereth snorted. “If someone’s listening, we’re already sunk. Just try to look like a tourist and don’t do anything memorable. What’s happening with the Nord?”

Darnand filled her in as they strolled. Once Magnus reached the tip of the White-Gold Tower, they followed the foreshortened shadow. Lildereth’s knuckles were ivory against her brown hand on his arm. He recalled that she did not like unfamiliar magics.

No words from him would sooth her. He stepped off the main path’s paving stones and onto the grass.

Here most of the graves were contained inside mausoleums. Darnand led Lildereth slowly between the structures, keeping his eyes moving for the sign. Despite the ease with which he had cracked the Mythic Dawn’s code, a nervous flutter troubled his stomach. Perhaps he had missed something.

“Do you think you missed something?” Lildereth whispered.

“In only a few moments more, we will know.”

Red light flared from the shadowed side of a nearby tomb. As he stepped eagerly toward it, Lildereth yanked on his arm.

“Ah, come to see the Midday Miracle?” a woman’s voice sounded behind them.

Clark is offering lessons

“I can, I did, I do, and I wasn’t.”

Yikes, Darnand! Bringing up your intimate session with Lil during an argument was a really bad idea. Oh, I see Lil didn’t waste much time informing you of that.

Interesting conversation about birthsign/race and magic aptitude.

Ahah, another telephone telepath call from Jerric.

As the noon’s sun begins to do its thing, you leave us with the sudden salutation of a mystery woman – can’t wait to find out who she is!

Hooray for more Jerric and Co.! Let's get right to the good stuff! Well- that would be all of it, but... some selected morsels....

I completely agree that the player character should have reason to be afraid of Baurus. “You say you were there when the Emperor was assassinated? Tell me more.”

Oh my, Nereli is a treasure, although I imagine Jerric doesn't think so.



Ah- good to know he has started wearing those....

Absolutely enthralled by the description of the shrine (and furiously taking notes).

And the fact that the sigil stones are- an abomination- makes absolute sense, especially when you think about the spires and Dagon and etc.

The sacrifice of the enchanted items- and the fact that he does it so quickly- tells us just how great a soul Jerric possesses. He is a hero in truth.

Have to laugh at Kjestrid being concerned that Jerric might be... chatting up... Dozara. Of course, with Jerric, it pays to be cautious....


That exchange caused me to spray my tea onto the keyboard.







Just perfect!



They do the "married couple" so well....

Trust Lil to get a jump on things.

It was a nice touch how you included Tar-Meena's excitement being shown by her tail. Still, methinks she might not be secret agent material...

I always knew Lil had stones...

And Darnand takes a page from Tar-Meena's book of keeping secrets by announcing that Lil has a bag of holding.

It is definitely hard not to stare at Azura's statue.

Of course Darnand did not miss anything! Time for the midday miracle!

No matter what game you're playing

As others have already said, i really enjoyed the bickering between Dar and Lil - the dialogue really captures their relationship in a way that exceeds mere description.

Previously: Darnand and Lildereth found Where Tower Touches Midday Sun. So did someone else.


ghastley: Jerric would never leave Moonshadow! Thank you, ghastley!

Acadian: Darnand may have just tied with Jerric for the Foot-In-Mouth prize! I think Abiene is still in the lead, though. I like how the birthsigns give people another reason to resent other people for something they can’t control. Deep doen the guys probably resent Lil because The Steed doesn’t carry a curse like their birthsigns do. Thank you, Acadian!

treydog: The shrine gave me fits writing it. I’m glad those light moments made you chuckle. Jerric hitting on Dozara happened out of the blue as I was writing it. I laughed out loud in Panera! (Fortunately I was with some friends who also laugh, curse, and cry at their laptops.) It’s funny, Lildereth’s and Darnand’s POV sections are much more difficult for me to write, but I enjoy their scenes just as much. Thank you, treydog!

SubRosa: It’s no surprise I find Tar-Meena utterly charming. I was going to skip the book drop but I couldn’t resist seeing her again! I looked at all of the Azura statue pictures I could find before this chapter, and they all had two striking features in common. Maybe if he’s half-blind he’ll only half-stare. Thank you, SubRosa!

haute ecole rider: Thank you, haute! It’s hard for me to keep up with those two. At least when Jerric’s in the scene I can slow down when they have to explain something to him.


Next: “Ah, come to see the Midday Miracle?”

.

Chapter 18: The Path of Dawn, Part Nine

Darnand brought a Shield spell to mind in case she attacked, confident that if necessary Lildereth would discreetly disable her.

The woman wore an Imperial Guard’s armor. Because most likely she is a guard, he chastised himself. Her presence here does not make her a cultist, though she may suspect us.

“Oh, yes!” Lildereth bubbled. “Do you know where it is? We have been looking, but…”

“Right behind you!” The guard strode past and held out an arm in the manner of a tour guide. “Here, on the Tomb of Prince Camarril.”

“Oooooh!” Lildereth exclaimed. She leaned forward to look, but her hand remained clenched in Darnand’s sleeve. “Why does it do that?”

While the guard began her explanation, Darnand inspected the tomb. In a decorative panel on one wall a map of Cyrodiil glowed red under a rising sun. A large symbol appeared in the northeast corner.

“Where do you suppose that is?” Darnand asked, interrupting the guard.

She continued in the same cheerful tone. “As I was saying to your lady… wife? You’re his wife? As I was saying to your lady wife, I figure it’s near Lake Arrius. That’s in County Cheydinhal, about a half-day’s ride north of the city.”

“What do you suppose is there?” Lildereth breathed.

“I think it’s a secret family vault! Those hills could be peppered with ruins. Why not, everywhere else is! There could be a lair filled with traps and undead beasts, and you’d have to navigate through to get to the treasure.”

Darnand began to think that this guard was not on the scent of the Mythic Dawn after all.

Lildereth pointed a trembling finger at the glowing map. “With all of the rumors, how is it still a secret?” she stage-whispered.

“The map only glows at midday when a member of the Prince Camarril’s bloodline is near.” With slow drama the guard pointed a thumb at her own chest.

Darnand schooled his expression. Lildereth had this handled.

“You?” gasped the elf. “Perhaps there is a… a blood lock that only someone like you could open! Then the treasure must be intact! Oh, but you are in terrible danger! What if someone,” Lildereth glanced around, “nefarious saw this and had designs on your family’s secret?”

“That’s why I patrol here whenever I can. I’ve chased away more than a few sly-looking individuals.” The guard gave them a stern look. “What do you know about my family’s map?”

Darnand picked up Lildereth’s cue. “We heard the rumor and hired a guide. She promised to reveal to us secrets of the Imperial City. In fact, her tour is entitled ‘Secrets of the Imperial City.’” He made a show of looking around. “We are to meet her here by the Talos Plaza gate at midday. She will arrive any moment.”

Lildereth tilted her head toward Darnand. “I don’t think she’s coming, dear. She had a shifty look.”

“You say that about all Dunmeri. She will arrive as she promised.” He frowned up at the sun as if Magnus was to blame for the imaginary guide’s tardiness.

“We shouldn’t have paid her in advance,” Lildereth chided.

“Paid her in advance!” exclaimed the guard. “I am sorry to say, you have been duped. This happens to tourists all of the time, though a surprising number find this spot anyway. You won’t see your gold nor your guide again.”

Darnand harrumphed and kept up his pretense of looking. “How do you know that you are of Prince Camarril’s bloodline?”

She made a grandiose gesture at the map. “I discovered the connection when the Prince’s tomb came alive at my approach. I have named it the Midday Miracle and determined that one of our blood should always keep watch over our legacy.”

“Correlation does not imply causation.”

“Come along, dearest,” Lildereth coaxed him. “Our tour is canceled. If we leave now we can visit the herbalist and still have time to soak your piles before dinner.” She rubbed his abdomen in a patronizing manner.

“You are wise, my darling,” Darnand gritted, squeezing her fingers harder than necessary. “While I bathe you shall have time to lance a few of your boils. And perhaps even make inroads against the fungal growth beneath your toenails.” He made a head-bow at the guard. “Good day, and thank you.”

“Protect and serve. It’s what we do.”

They strolled away under the guard’s vigilant gaze.


As far as Darnand could tell, no one followed them through the Talos Plaza District to The Foaming Flask. They found the tavern lightly populated, the staff still clearing up from the lunch rush. Baurus occupied a round table in the darkest corner, a crumb-speckled plate in front of him.

“You are certain this is safe?” Darnand asked Baurus, holding a chair for Lildereth. “No one will overhear us?”

“We’re never safe.”

Lildereth dropped her satchel on the chair. “I’ll get us some food.”

“Will we not have a waitress?” Darnand asked.

“Bar service only here.”

While Lildereth was occupied, Darnand filled Baurus in on his conversation with Jerric. He unrolled his map and pointed to the shrine’s approximate location without a verbal explanation.

Lildereth returned with a plate in one hand and two tankards in the other. She placed the plate between them.

Baurus spoke. “That was a good piece of work, getting the last book and cracking the code. Breton, you handled yourself well back there in the sewers. Our next move is to infiltrate the cult. That means we’ll go to the shrine, as directed.” He glanced between the two of them. When neither spoke up, Baurus continued. “Obviously I’m known to them. There’s no disguise we can count on to get me in. Breton, you’re known to them now, too, especially since you gave them your name. We killed them all, but that means at least some of them who know you are in contact with their leadership in whatever hell pit they’re calling their Garden of Dawn.”

“He mentions that he has remade his daughter,” said Lildereth. “He will certainly remake his son.”

“In the third volume he names the ‘hell pit’ where they await the Dawn,” said Darnand. “He calls it Paradise. One of us must pose as the Novitiate. You will recall in the first volume, the Master instructs one to come slowly, with humility, and bearing the four keys. Mantled in starlight, though I suppose that may refer to the initiation ritual.”

Lildereth gave him raised brows.

“That means unclothed. I have not adequately studied the fourth volume, but my reading suggests a blood ritual. Fairly common to mimic the mortal birth in such a way.”

The elf’s expression did not invite further details.

Baurus continued. “We have to assume that there are other copies of Volume Four out there, and other idiots in the process of decoding the message and making their way to the shrine.”

“There was a guard patrolling near the Tomb of Prince Camarril,” Darnand said. “She indicated that there had been others looking for ‘The Midday Miracle,’ as she termed it. It is possible that her attention frightened them away.”

“Her name and rank?”

“I did not enquire. She is a guard.”

“She will have seen every aspiring cultist,” Baurus said. A grim smile drifted over his face.

“I guess I’ll see them when I get inside the shrine,” said Lildereth. The elf sat higher so she could lean toward the Redguard. “That’s what you were coming to, right? All that time your lot had someone trying to capture me in the mountains, and now you want to send me right into the middle of it. I guess you trust me now.”

Baurus spent no time celebrating. “I’m sending you both to find it. Travel to County Cheydinhal as you would have if Jerric was with you. I’m counting on your woodscraft not to be seen together at the shrine by whatever they’ve got watching their approach. Breton, I want you nearby for communication and backup. The Nord could pop out of Moonshadow any day. When he does, he’ll contact you. Tell him everything you’ve learned in case you two both die. Bosmer, get in there and scout. Find the ways in and out that aren’t the front door.”

“If they’re doing their initiations there, it has to be some sort of compound,” Lildereth said. “That means they’re feeding people and taking out the trash. I’ll leave my gear with you, Darnand. If I turn up with the books and no weapons they’ll likely use me as some sort of cleaner or cook. I’ll see what I can see and then get out before they initiate me.”

“What do you need?” asked Baurus.

“I just need myself,” said Lildereth. “I’ll pick up some second-hand things that will help with my disguise.”

“What are you offering?” Darnand asked Baurus.

“What gold I have for travel. I won’t use inns. I’ll go straight home and inform them of your actions. I trust no other way to bring this news.”

“Will you bring them to the shrine?” asked Lildereth.

“That’s not up to me.” A cracking noise came from Baurus’s closed fists. “Discover what you can and then get out. Jerric may contact you before you’ve even reached it. Azura’s Shrine isn’t far north of the lake.”

“He indicated that he would have some task to perform upon arrival,” Darnand reminded him.

“Whatever promise the Nord has made, we’ll lose time if you all die fulfilling it,” Baurus said. “Breton, once the elf has scouted I want you to bring the information home. From there you can communicate with Jerric in the field. Be wary. No letters, no messages, no charmed trinkets for talking. Trust no one.”

“Once I tell him where the shrine is, he’s going to go kill them,” Lildereth said. “I won’t try to stop him.” Her hands were motionless on the table, fingers laced tightly together.

“Lildereth…”

“I know. He won’t be alone, Darnand.” She pushed the plate toward him. “It’s pointless to plan any further.”

What a wonderfully written encounter between the odd couple and the guard. Plenty of info gleaned while Lil & Darn played the married couple to the hilt – including the ‘TMI’ personal hygiene digs they exchanged.

Also, a well done encounter with Baurus as the trio discuss their next steps. I chuckled at Lil’s understanding that whatever they come up with for plans, Jerric is likely to barge into with spells ablazing.


A few tiny nits -
’While the guard began began her explanation,…’ - - an extra began, it seems.
’She rubbed his abdomen in patronizing manner.’ - - in a patronizing manner, perhaps?
“You are wise, my daring,” - - darling, of course.
’Lildereth gave him raise brows.’ - - raised, I think.

Even if the L and D show is harder to write, you do it wonderfully well. In their own way, they are even funnier than Lil and Jerric- which takes some doing. But she has such an excellent- “not going to take any crap off of anyone, just because I'm a Bosmer” attitude. And she has the wit (and the other skills) to back up that attitude. She is a delight- as long as one is not the target of her barbs....



Besides all of your original characters, you do an amazing job of showing how driven Baurus is by the failure of the Blades to protect the Emperor.



Another perfect Lildereth moment.

It sounds like the guardswoman might be thinking of going to look for Forrest Fenn's treasure. I wonder if it really does respond to the Camarril blood, or if someone merely convinced herself that it does. I kind of suspect the latter. Ah, I see Darnand does as well. He obviously had the same college profs I did, as that is where I learned that correlation does not imply causation. (My Psych Prof regaled us with the tale of how as a young lad he once wrote a paper where he showed the correlation between traffic in Chicago and street deaths in India).

Oh, Darnit and Lil play off one each other wonderfully with the 'tour guide'

Ewww, better get those piles and boils and fungus taken care of!

“We’re never safe.”
I just love Baurus' optimism!

Some solid planning all around by Baurus. And thought observations by Lildreth, in that there will probably be a servants entrance, and a trash dump. Those are the kind of things game designers never think of.

Since Jerric et al. will be arriving at Azura's Shrine, I can guess what task they will be charged with upon arrival. I do like how everything is finally coming back together at Lake Arrius.




Nit? More of a consideration?
I’ve chased away more than a few sketchy-looking gawkers.

You might want to reconsider using 'sketchy'. It is modern slang, and feels odd given the setting. Sort of like Aragorn seeing Gandalf and saying "What up Holmes?"

I liked Darnand's invention of "the guide" as a distraction for the guard to go chase.

And causation/correlation is only to be discussed in conjunction with the FSM's belief that global warming is caused by a shortage of priates.

Previously: Lildereth and Darnand learned the location of the Mythic Dawn’s Shrine and met with Baurus. Lildereth intends to infiltrate the cult disguised as the Novitiate. In Morrowind Jerric, Kjestrid, Shamir-do, and Nereli got permission to travel through Moonshadow. Gjaever headed to Skyrim on his own.


Acadian: Argh, I had the worst time proofreading the last segment. I lost my changes twice! Thank you for finding those nits. Lildereth and Darnand are entirely responsible for writing their scene in Green Emperor Way. I was just lucky to be there to write it down. Thank you, Acadian!

treydog: I can imagine how much Baurus must want to go all Jerric on the Mythic Dawn up at the lake. Lildereth is in her element planning a solo infiltration. Gosh, I hope her plan works out! Thank you, treydog!

SubRosa: I took your suggestion and replaced “sketchy-looking” with “sly.” It has taken two timelines to get everyone back together! I have software now for the next time I do this! I am looking forward to writing the Lildereth POV sections, since she made such a good plan. Thank you, SubRosa!

ghastley: I enjoyed Darnand picking up Lil’s cues in that scene. If it had been Jerric they would probably have ended up in jail. Thank you, ghastley!


Next: Let’s catch up with Jerric and friends in Morrowind.

Chapter 18: The Path of Dawn, Part Ten

The portal was taller than an Altmer in a Harvest’s End headdress and wide enough for two orcs to pass through side by side. Brilliant light ringed a swirling plane of purple and pink mist. Streaks of gold seeped out, expanded into sparkles, and glittered away. From their place in line Jerric could see the Reverend Mother Ra’tayah at its side flanked by a pair of winged twilights. If holding the portal open was a strain, she did not show it.

“Keep moving,” called an acolyte. “Step through and continue walking straight. You have to make room for those behind you.”

Kjestrid looked paler than usual. Her knuckles showed red and white where she clenched her pack straps.

They took two steps forward.

“It’s the waiting,” she muttered. “Gjaever had a good point.”

“It’s no different from the last portal you entered,” said Nereli.

“Khajiit expects it to be entirely different.”

The portal flared with roseate light, then resumed its former brightness. They took two more steps.

“They say we’ll be half-blind in there,” Jerric said. “I wonder if that will be permanent.”

The Dunmer man in front of them turned to speak over his shoulder. “Your first time?”

“Yeah.”

“Ours, too.” He indicated the mer at his side. “We’re moving to Far Withing. Going to open up a tailor shop.”

“Where’s Far Withing?”

“Past Strawberry Fields, I’m told. We’ll have to find our own way I suppose, once we’re through quarantine.”

Shamir-do hissed under his breath.

“What quarantine?” Kjestrid demanded.

They took two steps forward.

“We’ll be at the migrants’ camp for a few weeks,” the Dunmer said. “Didn’t they tell you in your interview?”

Jerric decided that they were not going to stay in any camp. He cut his eyes at Kjestrid.

She gave him a little head shake. They’d solve this on the other side.

As the family in front of the two Dunmeri men stepped into the portal, Ma’sani bustled up. Renlys walked a pace behind her, loaded down with luggage. They had exchanged their temple robes for travel gear. Neither wore armor or visible weapons.

“Renlys will go through first with Dozara,” Ma’sani told them. “Then you four, and Ma’sani will follow.”

The portal flared again, and it was their turn.

“Just like the last one, only without the fire and blood,” Kjestrid said under her breath.

“Right.”

As Dozara’s tail tip disappeared into the portal’s mist, the acolyte made an impatient gesture. Jerric and Kjestrid stepped through.

The disorienting spin and lurch felt the same as entering the Deadlands. Despite what his senses tried to tell him, the ground was firm and level under his feet. Hands gripped his forearms and ushered him forward while his eyes adjusted.

The hushed babble of awed folk sounded over a gentle chorus of nearby bells. The air felt light and smelled sweeter than any garden. Water trickled somewhere close.

“Half-blinded,” Kjestrid said. “I guess now we know.”

The sky looked like the inside of a giant conch shell pierced with pale stars, but grey twilight veiled his eyes when he squinted at Kjestrid. He found her doing the same.

“I think it’s just the light,” Jerric said, hoping to make it true.

“Our Lady created Khajiit for her realm,” Shamir-do said, the cat-like burr strong in his voice. His pupils had widened until they were nearly round.

As the newcomers staggered through the portal, two Khajiit helped them move along to where an officious-looking Imperial was organizing them into a line. He wore silk draped over both shoulders, belted at the waist and open at the sides. That seemed like a good indication that Moonshadow’s climate would remain this comfortable.

“Follow this one,” Ma’sani said. Chin high and ears relaxed, she led them past their fellow travelers. The Imperial acknowledged her with the slightest of bows. Jerric supposed that parchment-pushers must find work in any realm.

“Is the sun rising or setting?” Kjestrid asked.

“Neither.” Ma’sani gestured in a circle, indicating the horizon. “Moonshadow is a realm of dusk and dawn. Here we watch the moons to count our days.”

Jerric recalled the colored plates of the mortal realms and night skies he had studied in school. They made no more sense to him now than they had at the time.

“Since there is always some light, folk choose their own schedules,” Ma’sani continued. “In Moonshadow it is customary to spend eight hours in work, eight hours at personal pursuits, and eight hours at rest.”

“So when a meal is served someone will always be having breakfast?” asked Jerric.

Ma’sani’s whiskers assumed an amused angle. “Nords! Of course, this one should have explained it with meals.”

Now that Jerric’s eyes had adjusted, he could see reasonably well. They stood near a road in a broad meadow of shin-high grass with silvery seed heads. A breeze made it dance in waves like ripples of water. Jerric could feel no sense of direction. What looked like distant mountains behind a blue haze could be cloud banks. Dark shapes against the horizon might be patches of trees. Four-legged creatures moved in a herd through the grass. They did not appear frightened or threatening. Perhaps they were some sort of deer. His stomach rumbled.

The line of immigrants walked away from them along a well-trampled foot path, Jerric guessed to the camp they had been told about.

Ma’sani led them onto the road. “We will walk to the village of Rosehaven. There we will await our Lady’s call.”

Jerric shortened his strides to match Ma’sani’s. He was relieved that they hadn't needed to argue their way out of a quarantine period, but the sense that this shortcut could cost them more time still needled him. “How long will that take?”

“As long as it takes.”

“What’s going to happen, exactly?”

Ma’sani’s ears flicked as if an insect had buzzed against them. “Our Lady Azura, Mother of the Rose, and Prince of this realm will bring us into her presence. Ma’sani knows not when that will be. The Queen of Twilight does not submit her plans for this one’s approval.”

Kjestrid gave him a straight-armed nudge to shove him into position beside Nereli and took the place at Ma’sani’s side. Shamir-do dropped to the rear next to Renlys, still guarding Jerric’s back.

Dozara raised her great wings and sprang into the air on their downward sweep. She held her tail lifted in a curve and legs back like a crane as she flew. Perhaps she used magic. Even with her magnificent wingspan, she had too much body for mundane flight. Jerric had to crack his neck after she flew over. Nereli was similarly entranced by the winged twilight. Belatedly he remembered that he was not supposed to stare. I think I got away with it.

“I’ve never seen paving stones so smooth,” Kjestrid remarked. “I can’t feel the seams at all.”

“There are no seams,” said Ma’sani. “These roads are laid down by whistling snails. They are constantly renewing the surface. They call to each other to know where they should be. The roads are as wide as one snail, so they dislike passing one another.”

Jerric touched the surface with his fingertips, then his whole hand. “It’s like pearl.”

“Yes. Ma’sani thinks it is similar. This one has only seen one once.” She sighed. “Our Lady’s realm is full of wonders.”

“Khajiit believes he has made the right decision,” Shamir-do said.

“Are you leaving us, cat?” asked Jerric.

“No. But never again will the thought of this one’s death sting.”

If Jerric’s sense of time could be trusted, the village was a ten minute walk from the portal site. The houses had thatched roofs and half-timbered walls filled in with plaster. Light glowed from some of their windows. Gardens were fenced and tidy, walkways were swept, and the chickens well-mannered.

“Thank, uh, Azura,” Jerric said. “Chickens!”

On second look, the chickens were some kind of lizard. He gave Nereli an elbow and raised brows.

“Bantam guar,” Nereli said.

“Do they lay eggs?”

Ma’sani’s tail gave a merry swish. Her eyes squinted with humor when she turned. “We will take our ease at the inn. Fear not, human! Our Lady’s guests do not go hungry in Moonshadow.”

Air gusted as Dozara swooped around and lightly landed. She tossed her head to flip the ponytail back over her shoulder.

“I wonder if they’ll make us wear their robes again,” said Nereli.

“You needn’t worry about your clothing,” said Ma’sani. “In Morrowind, it was an endless battle to keep the ash…”

The Khajiit’s raspy voiced faded as light flared all around. Jerric found himself floating in a lavender cloud. The air tasted of star-cloves and smelled almost like jasmine, but not quite.

“I have seen your name, child of Kyne, and heard it whispered in twilight.” A figure materialized before him, too far away to touch. At first it seemed made of golden light, then he saw that she carried a light in each hand. If they were the moon and star as portrayed in her statue, he couldn’t tell. The glare was too strong.

“My Lady,” said Jerric. Dammit, what am I supposed to call her?

“You have asked a boon of me. In return I require of you a service.”

The voice echoed in his bones. His legs twitched involuntarily. “What service can I offer the Queen of Dawn and Dusk?”

“Many years ago in Cyrodiil, five of my faithful slew the vampire Dratik and its kin, but all were infected by the foul creatures. Knowing their fate, they sealed themselves up in the vampire’s lair. Their suffering weighs heavily upon me. Travel from my shrine to the Gutted Mine. The door will open to you. Bring the peace of death to my followers, and I will consider your debt to me fulfilled.”

“I will do as you asked, Lady of the, uh, Night Sky.”

The light faded into her eyes and hands, and for a moment Azura allowed Jerric to see her. She seemed made of silver with black hair that drifted as if they were under water. Her laugh felt like nails grazing his skin. “Welcome to Moonshadow, Jerric of Kvatch.”

Well, if Jerric noticed her hair, he was probably looking in a safe direction. Probably.

I hope the crew is dressed appropriately before they get to Gutted Mine. It's snowy up there.

Thanks for the summary in your opening comments.

A wonderful description of the portal, using such TES-friendly and crystal clear dimensions.

Absolutely loved your depiction of the sky in Moonshadow. And quite expected that it is a beautiful land of perpetual twilight. Where Nords need to use meals to tell time.

The winged twilight's flight and landing were wonderful to read and really showcased the nature of those daedra.

And what an unexpected joy to learn that Jerric will be doing the Dratik quest and rescuing those long-suffering unwillingly vampiric souls. Certainly a quest that Buffy remembers well.

What a perfectly ES description!



No PTSD there- nope, not a bit....



And another absolutely Jerric moment... Followed by his reaction to the bantam chicken guar... thingies....

Azura's realm and her presence were both wonderfully depicted. And the task she has for Jerric will be difficult, but I think it will also be acceptable to him.

A most pleasant read just at dusk.

Yikes they're walking on snails! And chickens which are really reptiles!

Hey you did a really great job outlining this bizarre world they've stepped into. I wonder if that place will cause Jerric to ... I don't know. Lose some of his mind? Maybe not. He's a Nord after all.



Lolz!

I too loved your decision to describe the size of the portal in terms of people, rather than feet and inches. It adds a much more lush and personal imagery to the scene.

I hope this portal will be nicer than the last one! Well, maybe not the actual transition, but certainly what lies on the other side.

Waffles around the clock!

I do love the description of the Twilight Realm. I would much rather live there than the Deadlands or Coldharbour!

I will have to talk to the Lady of Twilight about getting some of those snails for Michigan's roads...

Batman Guar? Cool!

A very nice touch of the light in both Azura's hands - Moon and Star. It immediately brought to mind the twin torches carried by Hekate.

You provided great imagery when describing the portal to Azura's Realm of Moonshadow. With the many colored portals and gates in ESO, it makes sense that the door to her realm is just as beautiful as the place itself.



This was a pretty interesting piece here. The realms of Oblivion operate sometimes at whims of the Daedric Lord, and fortunately Azura is considered one of the more benevolent Daedric Princes. Moonshadow does seem like a paradise in comparison to the other hellish places! I mean even the weather always nice!



So, the Lady of Dusk and Dawn has given our heroes a quest to fulfill in exchange for her support! A familiar quest at that! I'm excited to see what happens next!

Previously: It’s been quite a while, hasn’t it?


ghastley: It’s hard to find a safe place to look on Azura! If Jerric had his way at the Maiden Springs Gate they would have dropped all of their winter gear in anticipation of the scorching Deadlands. Good thing they didn’t listen to him. Thank you for your Moonshadow, which Jerric actually visited in his game!

Acadian: Thank you, Acadian! I need to post the Moonshadow chapter before ESO makes my version obsolete. As annoying as the flappy-flaps can be in our current game, I think the real ones must be fascinating.

treydog: Thank you, treydog! I still think of bantam guar whenever I eat chicken wings.

Renee: I think he’ll be ok in Azura’s realm, but he would have big struggles in the Shivering Isles. He likes to keep things simple. Thank you, Renee!

SubRosa: There is a very cool Azura-like thing you can do in Elder Scrolls Online with light coming out of your hands while you’re floating. Sign me up for a Moonshadow vacation. No sunburn! Thank you, SubRosa!

Darkness Eternal: Thank you, DE! Azura’s realm does seem pretty pleasant. I can’t see the gang taking a shortcut through Coldharbour, at least not on purpose!


Next: The story so far in two sections. Section One has appeared in this thread before, long long ago. Section Two is new and brings us up to date. There will certainly be big gaps in what I remembered to tell you. I will try to give reminders as we go, but if you have any questions please ask!

I’ll post the next story segment in a week and then once per week as long as I have one ready. We’ll wrap up The Path of Dawn in four more posts before rejoining Jerric in Moonshadow. Thank you so very much for continuing this journey with us!!



Section One:

Jerric the Nord battlemage lives happily with his large extended family in Kvatch. He works as a guard for his family's caravan business.

After a drunken brawl on the waterfront Jerric spends his first night in the Imperial City locked up. This is not surprising. Rather than releasing him from the drunk tank along with the others, the guards put Jerric down in the prison. Jerric suspects that his brother had something to do with it.

The surprise comes in the form of Uriel Septim and the remnants of his Dragonguard. They charge through Jerric's cell uttering threats on the way to a secret escape route. Someone has murdered all of the Septims, and the Emperor is next. BUT WAIT! You are the one from my dreams…

After witnessing Uriel's murder Jerric finds himself taking the Amulet of Kings to the Grandmaster of the Blades, Brother Jauffre. The highly trained last remaining personal bodyguard of the Emperor (Baurus) has a target on his back and doesn't know who else to trust.

Jerric gets into some scrapes and makes some friends on the way. (Weye, Aleswell, the Odiils.) He hands over the Amulet and agrees to go warn the last remaining Septim (Brother Martin) as long as it doesn't make him late for his Ma's birthday party. The Grandmaster is in a bind since anyone except for Baurus and Jerric (and Martin who doesn't know he's a Septim) could be part of the assassination plan. No one would believe that this Nord would be dispatched along with a paint pack horse (Flash) to save the world. And Jauffre himself has taken on the huge responsibility of guarding the Amulet.

As it happens Jerric already knows Brother Martin. He taught Jerric his first healing spell at the Chapel of Akatosh in Kvatch.

Jerric arrives at Kvatch and finds it under siege by daedra. There's a Gate to Oblivion keeping his family trapped inside the burning city. Savlian Matius has taken charge, being the highest ranking anyone left alive. He explains the issue. Jerric jumps through the Gate in an attempt to find a way to close it. Eventually he does.

Then he helps the Kvatch Guard take back the ruined city, earning various names in the process. Lionheart seems to stick. In the chapel Jerric has a quiet word with Akatosh. For once the Dragon God of Time seems to listen.

Martin survives. He knows Jerric as a hardworking citizen, a brawler, a womanizer, and a bit of an idiot, but not a liar. He becomes convinced that he is the cause of the sack of Kvatch. The Emperor's words to Jerric echo his own thoughts when he first met Jerric as a lad. Martin follows Jerric (and Flash) to Weynon Priory. Jerric begins having dreams of fire and a great claw splitting him open. He believes he is seeing the moment of his death.

They arrive to find the Priory under attack. Their enemy has discovered the location of the Amulet of Kings and taken it while Jauffre was busy slaying the zealots. Once again everyone is a suspect, especially those who live(d) at the Priory. Jerric agrees to help Jauffre escort Martin to the Blades' secret stronghold of Cloud Ruler Temple.

At Cloud Ruler Temple Jerric is inducted into the Blades as a Knight Brother. Jauffre bends the rules for him, since the dead Emperor's dragon blood showed him Jerric standing at Martin's side. (Or so they figure. The Emperor could have been a little more specific about exactly what he saw in those dreams.) Jerric will act as an agent directed by Jauffre or Baurus according to a code they arrange. A simple code, because… well, Nord. Jerric heads back to Anvil, realizing that the people who could help him beef up his magic skills are in the area. Plus he should probably tell them he's alive.

On the way he sees a Gate to Oblivion. He enters and closes it. Then he spends the next two months wandering the wilds closing Gates when he finds them. His thirtieth birthday passes during this time.

When he finally gets almost to Anvil he saves Darnand's butt from a rogue mage. Darnand immediately returns the favor when a pair of Battlemages sees Jerric as a threat. Darnand eases Jerric's transition back to civilization. The two had begun a friendship the summer before, and their bond strengthens in the course of a few adventures (Siren's Deception, Lildereth's zombie run, assault on Fort Strand). Darnand is a bit of a difficult person who has come to appreciate the effort Jerric made in befriending him. Lildereth is a newcomer having just returned to Cyrodiil from Valenwood. Jerric is Jerric. You know what he's like.

Jerric and Darnand decide to go on a road trip to get their Mages Guild recommendations. Mostly Jerric needs to learn some new spells from Vigge, who has moved to Kvatch. Lildereth decides to come with them. She is not forthcoming about her reasons.

Also now they have a dog (Ulfe).

In the Imperial City Jerric checks in with Baurus. The two discover evidence that confirms the Mythic Dawn cult as the culprit in the assassinations. Baurus directs Jerric to keep searching for Books 3 and 4 of the Mythic Dawn Commentaries, or Commentaries on the Mysterium Xarxes if you are a rare book dealer with a stick up your behind (Phintias.) Baurus will stay in the IC following up on leads.

In Weynon Priory Jerric learns that Brother Piner has been tortured to death by the Mythic Dawn. Minutes later he meets with the new Blades contact at the Priory, Brother Venco. He also sees that Darnand has been taken into the secret (but known by the Mythic Dawn, hmm) room for questioning. Jerric is not happy about getting Darnand involved. Venco does not care about Jerric's "feelings" on the matter. Darnand is an asset. Venco is kind of a scary badass.

Also Venco tells them that he suspects Lildereth of being a Mythic Dawn agent who hopes that Jerric will lead her to Martin. He doesn't have proof, he's just a suspicious person. That's what happens when you hang around with spies.

Anyway Brother Venco confiscates Jerric's Kvatch and Blades gear, telling him that he will henceforth travel under the name Kjellingsson as Darnand's hired guard to avoid being grabbed up by the MD. He supplies armor suitable for a mercenary and an Akaviri-style shield (Tower of the Nine, awesome) to help with the deception. Venco has Blades agents out posing as Jerric to confuse the enemy. Also as bait to hopefully catch one for questioning. So far they have all killed themselves before the torture "questioning" could get serious.

Lildereth checks back in with the boys, delivering an expletive-laced diatribe against Martina Floria of the Arcane University. It seems Martina wants Welkynd stones in exchange for Master Illusion training. Lil decides to stay with the guys.

While in Chorrol Jerric sends Lildereth on an errand to Weynon Priory to steal his Blades helm back from Venco's secret room. It's his vote of confidence in Lil, plus he gets his enchanted helm back and lets her in on what's going on without breaking his vow and telling her. In return he helps her assault Hrotanda Vale in search of Welkynd stones. They also find the teenaged survivor of a recent battle at the ruin (Valdi). She eats Jerric's sandwich, steals the backpack he leaves out for her, and then disappears.

A word about Abiene. Abiene has moved to Chorrol to pursue her studies in surgery. She and Jerric had enjoyed a lusty summer in Anvil then said goodbye. When he returned to Anvil having survived Kvatch, Abiene convinced him to pick back up with her. (Pretty much by climbing into his lap. It was not a hard sell.) Then they said goodbye again, hoping they would reunite soon in Chorrol. In Chorrol Jerric told her they had to end it for her safety, even though there was really no "it" at least publicly.

At first they had kept it secret in Anvil to hide Abiene's complete lack of professionalism in using her student as a slam piece. After Kvatch but still in Anvil Abiene admitted she didn't want the added heartbreak of being known as his ex after he had left her to probably go off and die. Also her family would not consider him to be boyfriend material, and she did not want to put on her big girl panties and deal with them. Of course they didn't fool everyone while they were going at it like bunnies. Thaurron and Carahil certainly noticed. Darnand did not.

So in Chorrol Jerric tells her he really means it this time (while in bed right after nailing her, nice timing Nord). Abiene had just told him she wanted their relationship to be out in the open, so she is not happy.

Meanwhile the Mythic Dawn has been opening Gates to the Deadlands. Sometimes they're next to a community and there are massive casualties. Sometimes they're in the middle of nowhere for no apparent reason. Jerric's theory is that they use Gates in Tamriel to take shortcuts through the Deadlands, since he has seen multiple Gates open within sight of each other there but only one is visible on the Tamriel side. For example traveling from Anvil to Blacklight with a quick stroll through Oblivion. Also it's known that the sigil stones are made with mortal souls, and Jerric (and others) keep taking the sigil stones to shut the Gates. He thinks Dagon needs more souls.

Regarding Kvatch. Jerric has been calling Savlian Matius the Hero of Kvatch when he tells the story. He's been recruiting the capable but disaffected people he encounters as potential new citizens wherever he goes. Savlian asked Jerric to stand with Rilian as Rilian delivered Count Kvatch's signet ring and made his case to the Elder Council. The Elder Council gave the ring back to Rilian to give to Savlian as the new Acting Steward to hold for whoever the new count will be. Noble families from all over have been sending representatives to "help" since the Goldwine sons had recently been assassinated and there's no heir. Savlian has a curfew in effect among other stringent measures to keep order on the plateau. Ghosts are a big problem. Thanks to the Kvatch City Guard, County Kvatch Militia, and the Imperial Legion, crime is not. After they got hammered in the Imperial City post-council meeting, Rilian asked Jerric if he could come along instead of going home to their burned-out city. Then he passed out. Jerric rather unusually wrote him a letter saying no and telling him what to do with his life. Get married, plant the new generation of Kvatchians in some nice girl with sturdy hips, rebuild the city. It's what Jerric would do himself if he was free. Well, he's not particular about the hips.

Section Two:

While everyone awaits the arrival of Book Three of Commentaries on the Mysterium Xarxes to the Imperial City, Jerric, Darnand, Lildereth, and Ulfe go to Bruma seeking Mages Guild recommendations for the guys. On the way they stop in Hope Valley, the Breton kahve farming valley whose settlers traveled to Chorrol with Jerric on his first visit. The farmers have lost some of their folk. The three plus Ulfe agree to help find them. Tracks lead to a vampire lair where they meet and work with Chorrolite King Coin's marvelous character, Aravi. After their adventures they camp together. Lildereth fills in some of her background. She is a survivor of the sack of Athay and the Wild Hunt that followed.

At the Bruma Mages Guild Jerric finds J'skar while Darnand does inventory for their recommendations. Jerric joins a Fighters Guild patrol as cover for reporting in at Cloud Ruler Temple. On the way they find a Gate and enter it. The Gate closes behind them, trapping them in a frozen corner of the Deadlands. With the help of Jerric's summoned frost atronach they find another open Gate.

Meanwhile Darnand and Lildereth with the aid of Selena, Volanaro, and J'skar re-open the County Bruma Gate to save Jerric's group. Darnand is accidentally transported to the Sigillum Sanguis. While getting yelled at by Jerric through their summoning communication spell, Darnand closes the Gate. He, J'skar, and Volanaro are promptly arrested in County Bruma.

Still in the Deadlands, Jerric and his Fighters Guild crew encounter a failed raiding party that had entered from the second Gate. Nereli joins them, helps close that Gate, and they all land near Blacklight in Morrowind.

Jerric and Darnand catch each other up on events. Darnand has escaped jail with Lildereth's help and been admitted to Cloud Ruler Temple. He is quartered with a family there. Lildereth was not admitted. She has returned to Bruma to help with the legal release of Volanaro and J'skar. The two have retrieved Jerric's belongs that he left at the Bruma Fighters Guild Hall along with his horses Flash and Kip, and brought them all to Cloud Ruler Temple. Lildereth still has to sleep out in the snow because Jauffre does not trust her yet.

In Morrowind the group decides to take a shortcut home through Moonshadow. Shamir-do and Nereli are both followers of Azura, and the Prince will allow the others to travel through on the promise that they will do a little job for her on the other side. Jerric learns that by using the sigil stones to enchant items, he has inadvertently prevented the souls' former owners from going wherever they are supposed to go in the next life. He immediately breaks the enchantments that he has with him, freeing the trapped spirits. He tells Darnand to break the ones he carries. Jerric also destroys the sigil stone from their last Gate. Thankfully Darnand had placed the Absorb Health enchantment on Jerric's Blades katana (Blade of the Medic) using conventional means, even though he did so illegally. Jerric's sword Redeemer is broken.

Jerric, Kjestrid, Shamir-do, and two others from the local Azura shrine enter Moonshadow. Gjaever elects to walk home across Skyrim. He is done with Gates.

Back in Cyrodiil, the news comes that the third Commentaries book is in the Imperial City. Lildereth and Darnand are sent to acquire it. Darnand gets it from Gwinas, meets and kills Raven Camoran with Baurus, and picks up the fourth book. He also takes Raven's fire shield ring. While Darnand cracks the code, Lildereth steals her ten Welkynd stones back from the Arcane University. She has learned the Master level Illusion spells, but she can't cast them (not enough magicka).

Lildereth and Darnand find Where Tower Touches Midday Sun and mark the location of the hidden Dagon shrine. At the meeting with Baurus, Lildereth volunteers to be the novitiate and infiltrate the shrine since Baurus and Darnand are known to the Mythic Dawn and Jerric is far, far away. Of course she is going to want to scout first.

That should catch us up pretty well. Oh! Who has the dog? Ulfe is with Lildereth and Darnand.



***


A heartfelt thank you to everyone who is reading this story. It's taken years and years to get this far, and there's still a ways to go. I hope very much that you'll enjoy the rest of the journey.

And just as I was working on my annual update to Clark's story ...

You left Jerric heading for Gutted Mine, and Lil going to Lake Arrius Caverns. Those aren't far apart! However, they're not on paths that would cross, even if the timing were right. I hope they will meet back up before too long (in-story, and IRL).

Welcome back!

What a delightfully written and most welcome summary to bring us back up to speed! It just so happens I was musing only a week or so ago as to whether you had plans to continue Jerric’s adventures.

I certainly look forward to following Jerric’s tale in between his episodes of sturdy hip planting, farting contests with Ulfe and getting lost in the Deadlands.

Poor Lildereth - sleeping in the snow! Sounds like she could use a resist frost enchanted toe ring. I think Buffy left the one Jerric gave her with Aradline in Bravil. I expect Ardaline doesn't need it and it's perfectly sized for a wood elf.

Yay, Jerric's Story is back once more!

Wow, I forgot just how much there was to get caught up on. Thank you for the recap, I do not think I could have remembered even half of all the shenanigans that Jerry, Abby, Lil' Dereth, and Darnit have been up to.

I look forward to the new content coming up, and seeing what other fine messes they will get themselves into.

but if you have any questions please ask!: I'll probably have a few. Welcome back! Knew this day would come eventually.

Section one helps a lot. It's like a synopsis. "BUT WAIT! You are the one from my dreams…" Love that.

First question: did Jerric know Martin before the events of the Oblivion Crisis?
Okay, seems he does, if he knows Jerric's habits and ways so well.

Second Question: seems you (Grits, not Jerric) got into the spirit of closing gates. Did you enjoy this?

I didn't like them at first. My first character who tried closing them all, didn't enjoy them. But the second time I got addicted. I couldn't get enough of destroying them. My CoC the Gray Wizard (that was his name.. I wasn't as creative back then) would only close gates if they were near society. So if he saw some gate way out in the forest, he'd leave it alone. But if it's near Pell's Gate or Cheydinhal? That has to be closed. I enjoyed closing them! Only the threat of the A-bomb caused me to just finish the MQ.

Anyway, did you enjoy closing them?

Third Question: Did Darnand and Jerric know each other before the Anvil recommendation quest?

I have more questions, but I think I'll just message you. I'll also catch up with Section Two later. About to start work.

Section Two
So this is how Jerric builds his party. I never got around to reading his early days, so this is good to see.



Oh my gosh! And also: Lildereth had to sleep in the snow, holy crayons!

Previously: Baurus sent Darnand and Lildereth to find the Mythic Dawn shrine near Lake Arrius. Lildereth will pose as the novitiate.


ghastley: Yay for a Clark update! It’s funny how the groups are far apart on paths that will nearly cross, but as you pointed out not at the same time. All roads lead to Cloud Ruler Temple, though, so they will all be back in the same room… eventually.

Acadian: Thank you, Acadian! If those boys in the temple don’t let her in soon, Lil will ride straight to Bravil and borrow that toe ring!

SubRosa: Thank you, SubRosa! I had also forgotten a lot of what they’d been up to. I even had to go back and fix one or two little mistakes. Jerric has accumulated quite a collection of armor, and I had him wearing stuff that was on a shelf in Weynon Priory and a helm that’s in a cupboard in Bruma. Oops. I have learned to keep a running note of who has the dog!

Renee: Ask away! Yes, Jerric and Martin met at the chapel in Kvatch when Jerric was a kid. Martin taught him his first spells, frost and healing. I didn’t like closing Gates much until Jerric’s PC game. He was on a mission to close every Gate that can open in the game, I think it’s 60? The last one he found was somewhere in the Jeralls. I really enjoyed them with him. Between his Atronach birthsign and a couple of spell absorption items he could blaze right through those things. In his original game on the Playstation I was afraid of the A-bomb, so he didn’t do many. Jerric and Darnand met last summer at the Anvil Mages Guild. Jerric took time off work to study there, and Darnand already lived there. They did not get along at first, but by the end of the summer they had become friends. Five months later they met again on the road outside Anvil where Darnand was doing the recommendation quest. Thanks, Renee!

Chapter 18: The Path of Dawn, Part Eleven

Sun cut through the trees at the angle indicating it would soon drop below the mountains. Lildereth rose and brushed her palms against her thighs. "It's time."

Darnand stood as well. "Lildereth." He spread his hands in a helpless gesture.

Lildereth began to undress, rolling each item and putting it away as she went. There was no fire at their hidden camp to fight the air flowing down from the snow-pack. The chill felt bone-deep. Spring had come to the woods of County Cheydinhal, but not to the high country.

"I'm scared," she said, not looking at him. "I don't regret saying I'd do this. But I'm scared just the same. I already feel… exposed." She pulled a plain linen shift over her head.

"If the Nord were here, he would point out…"

Her head popped through the neck opening in time to catch Darnand's up-and-down gesture, though he had averted his eyes. She snorted. The clothes that made up her disguise were stained and showed many repairs. Lildereth supposed that whomever had owned the garments would be pleased to find the gold she had left in their laundry basket. Footwear had been the only problem. The adult shoes she had found were too wide for Bosmeri feet, and the children's shoes were too short. In the end she decided to wear her own plain camp slippers, hoping that the fine leather would not be noticed under the layer of dust she had rubbed onto them.

"If the Nord were here, I'd have had no chance to scout," said Lildereth. "I can't think of anything that would keep him from storming in there and smashing the place to bits." She glanced north in the direction of Azura's Shrine. He will contact Darnand as soon as he returns to Tamriel, she scolded herself. Worry is a misuse of imagination.

Darnand picked up the pack she would carry into the shrine as her decoy. He had purchased it from a second-hand goods store along with a thin, patched cloak. Her own pack and weapons would remain here with Ulfe and their horses. It did not seem that the cultists sent out regular patrols.

A few final items completed her costume. Everyone carried around some small trinkets that they treasured, no matter how poor. The destitute Bosmer that Lildereth had created as her cover was no exception. A plain ring went onto one finger. She tucked the rest into the pack, then concealed her safety measures.

When Darnand held out the faded cloak, Lildereth moved her braid to the side and turned so that he could drape it around her. He squeezed her shoulders as she fastened the ties. For a man who seemed unable to identify his emotions much less express them, the touch was as eloquent as a sonnet.

Ulfe lay with her front legs out and one hip rolled to the side, head up and gently panting. Lildereth ruffled her ears and kissed her on the head. "Be a good girl and watch the horses." She turned back to Darnand. "Don't follow me too closely."

"I shall wait until Jerric would follow, and then wait a bit longer." He started to speak, then stopped. "Keep yourself safe," he finally said.

The walk to the lake was as lonely as any she had ever made. Lildereth used the time to empty her mind of the fears born of attachment. Her posture changed as she slipped into her new persona. So did her gait.

The lake with its cheerful waterfall now lay in the mountain's shadow. Lildereth trudged to the edge and let her pack slide to the ground as if weary from a long climb through the high meadows. No one had been watching yesterday when she scouted the caverns, but that didn't mean that no one could see her now. She placed a hand at the small of her back, leaning in to it.

The cavern's entrance was a simple wooden door set into the hillside, easily spotted from the lake. Lildereth knocked twice before pushing it open. Inside she found a rough-hewn passageway snaking away into near-darkness. "Hello?"

When no one answered, she closed the door behind her and waited until her eyes adjusted. She did not want to demonstrate that she knew any spells. Her feet crunched in dry dirt and loose stone, announcing her progress toward a distant light. She was capable of a silent retreat across such a surface, but it would be slow going.

The cavern she found was as roughly constructed as the corridor. Burgundy banners emblazoned with golden suns hung against the walls. Wood burning braziers lit and warmed the chamber. To her right a tall human wearing a hooded robe of the same clotted blood color stood in front of a closed wooden door. Straight ahead stood a second door that had been concealed to look as if it was part of the rock wall. The mechanism must be on the other side, or hidden better than her swift glance could discern. Here was a possible second escape route once she got further into the shrine.

Though the symbol on the banners was the same as the one that had glowed on the tomb of Prince Camarril, Lildereth doubted that these caves held his secret treasure vault. This must be the Mythic Dawn's shrine.

"Dawn is breaking," the man intoned.

"Greet the new day," said Lildereth, inwardly thanking Darnand for his coaching. She opened her pack to expose the spines of the Commentaries. "I bring the Four Keys."

The man's demeanor changed immediately. "Another initiate! Welcome, sister. The hour is late, but the Master still has need for willing hands. You may pass into the Shrine. Warden Harrow will take you inside for your initiation into the service of Lord Dagon." He unlocked the door. "Do not tarry. The time of Preparation is almost over. The time of Cleansing is near."

'Come with humility, starclad,' the third volume had instructed. She did not need to duck under the lintel, but she humbly lowered her head anyway. However long this shrine had been in use, it was probably built for the purpose of recruitment. Most likely there were grander shrines elsewhere that they used for worship. Perhaps this shrine had been built by another Dagon cult, only to be taken over by the Mythic Dawn. She supposed that the Prince of Destruction would not object to wars between his subjects.

The lock clicked into place behind her. This passage was well-lit and decorated with banners. Lildereth noted the nooks and shadows as she passed.

The next chamber contained a central raised platform with lit braziers on each of four corners. An olive-complected Dunmer in a Mythic Dawn robe approached as soon as she entered.

Lildereth put her pack on the floor and dragged out the four volumes. She didn't have to feign nervousness.

"I am Harrow, Warden of the Shrine of Dagon," he declared.

"I'm Gwendhel," said Lildereth.

"By following the Path of Dawn hidden in the writings of the Master, Mankar Camoran, you have earned a place among the Chosen. You have arrived at an opportune time. You may have the honor to be initiated into the Order by the Master himself."

Lildereth's heart leaped into her throat. She was prepared to fool whatever officials they had working at their recruitment center, but surely Mankar Camoran himself would possess the means to see through her deception. And if somehow he did not, actually becoming a cultist had not been in the plan. You're not even inside yet, she told herself. Stay in this moment.

Harrow took the books over to a table against the wall, returning with a folded garment made of burgundy linen. "As a member of the Order of the Mythic Dawn, everything you need will be provided for you from the Master's bounty. Give me your possessions, and put on this initiate's robe." He looked down his nose like a hawk at a pinned rabbit.

"Yes, m'lord." Lildereth undressed without turning aside, as if accustomed to being treated like furniture. She palmed the Ring of Khajiiti while she folded her dress.

The plain silver ring was still on her finger. Lildereth brought her hand up to show him. "This was my mother's. She's dead to me now." She pretended to fumble taking it off with her hands full.

Harrow snatched the ring and examined it while Lildereth stood with toes curling off the cold stone, the cavern's damp creeping over her skin. The Ring of Khajiiti felt like a boulder in her palm, but she couldn't hide it yet. If this smirking bureaucrat intended to poke his fingers about her person, it would happen now.

He did not. Instead he pocketed the silver ring and pushed the burgundy robe at her. As she made the exchange for her belongings, Lildereth slipped one of Baurus's scrolls from between her folded clothes into his other pocket. He would discover it soon unless she got it back, but the situation had just escalated. None of them had expected Mankar Camoran to be present at the Shrine.

Lildereth found that the robe did not have any ties or pockets. She unfastened her braid and made much of shaking it out. On the last flip she twisted the Ring of Khajiiti into the hairs at the nape of her neck, then handed the hair tie to Harrow. Every nerve screamed at her to disappear and flee. She hoped that her racing pulse if detectable could be attributed to excitement.

"Very good," Harrow said. He tossed the rest of her things onto a shelf. "Follow me. I will take you to the Shrine."

Her sleeves were too long and she had to lift the hem to keep from stumbling. As they passed through the door to the inner caverns, Lildereth got the scroll back. The bunched-up fabric made it easy to conceal.

Harrow led Lildereth through a high-ceilinged chamber with a raised area made of smooth stone blocks in the center. The platform and floors were swept clean, though the chamber was so unfinished that rock formations still jutted up from the floor and crowded down from the ceiling, offering abundant cover. As they passed through yet another wooden door, they met a robed cultist walking back toward the chamber they had just left.

"Dawn is breaking," the human said.

"Greet the new day," she and Harrow replied. Lildereth felt certain that her decoy backpack and servant's clothing would soon be ransacked.

The next cultist they encountered though unarmed had the demeanor of a guard. The air changed abruptly as they left the stale corridors for an immense, misty cavern. Finished stone pillars supported the roof. Harrow walked her to a broad ledge overlooking the shrine proper.

Below, a giant stone statue of Mehrunes Dagon dominated a central raised platform. Two Altmer-sized figures stood at its feet. One spoke to a group of perhaps a dozen robed cultists. Unlike the others, he wore blue. This must be the Master, Mankar Camoran.

Eighteen cultists, Lildereth mentally amended, adding in those they had passed in the outer chambers. No doubt they were annoyed at missing their Master's speech. Her chest felt tight, and her pulse sounded like thunder in her ears.

Harrow walked her down into the shrine to a set of steps at the side of the platform. A thin man in an initiate's robe stood there gazing up at the Master. Lildereth stifled a gasp when she saw the massive blood-red gem at Camoran's throat.

"The Dragon Throne is empty, and we hold the Amulet of Kings," Camoran declared. "Praise be to your brothers and sisters. Great shall be their reward in Paradise."

"Praise be!" the congregation responded, Harrow's voice among them. "Praise be!"

By the gods, the Amulet of Kings is right there. They aren't even trying to hide it. I'm going to have to join this cult today. We didn't prepare for this!

"Hear now the words of Lord Dagon," Camoran continued. "'When I walk the earth again, the faithful among you shall receive your reward. To be set above all other mortals forever!'"

Darnand may as well be in Northpoint for all he could help her. If she ran away now, their next attempt would be much harder. Lildereth took a slow breath and let it out. She thought of Jerric's smile, his eyes warm with reflected firelight.

I am not alone, for I carry you in my heart. In this world or the next you will hear the tale of this day. I will find a way to serve this mer and get the Amulet back. I can do this.

The Master kept speaking Dagon's words. "'As for the rest, the weak shall be winnowed, the timid shall be cast down, the mighty shall tremble at my feet and pray for pardon.'"

"So sayeth Lord Dagon," the congregation intoned. "Praise be!"

"Praise be," Lildereth squeaked. And Nord, if I'm murdered and consigned to the Deadlands, you had better come and get me!

Camoran made a broad gesture. "Your reward, brothers and sisters! The time of Cleansing draws nigh. I go now to Paradise. I shall return with Lord Dagon at the coming of the Dawn!"

Before Lildereth could take in his meaning, a small portal opened beside Mankar Camoran. Without another word he stepped through the pane of fire and was gone.

Okay, so J & M already have known each other many years. Were Jerric, Darnand, Lili, and others individual games at first, combined on PC? Because I know you were also a consolite back in the day.

Yes, 60 gates is the max. Some folks like tmar and glargg closed 'em all with certain characters. I want to say I got maybe half of them.

In his original game on the Playstation I was afraid of the A-bomb, so he didn’t do many.

Yep, this was me too! I'd lost two games to the bomb by then, we both (you and I) knew by then we safely had maybe 300 to 350 hours before the bomb would show its ugly animations. Anyway, sounds like you got obsessed with them too once you were on PC.

Hee I like that. She steals some clothes but leaves a coin behind! - Also that's clever, Lil's disguise as a struggling wayfarer. "Initiation into the service of Dagon?" Yikes. What is she up to here? Four volumes. Okay, so this must be part of the MQ. Dang, I can't remember this scene at all. Been since summer 2011 for me. Oh man, she has to undress in front of this Harrow dude? Cripes this is creepy.

Ring of Khajiiti, what a coincidence. macole's story this week also features this same ring. Different reason though.

"Decoy backpack" clever. Ransack away, ruffians.

Mankar slips away. Yeesh, what a creepy chapter. (that's a compliment).

I enjoyed learning how precisely Lildereth put together every aspect of her disguise. Of Jerric, Darnand and Lildereth, she is definitely the right one for this subterfuge/infiltration mission. That said, you did a great job of painting her fear.

’Worry is a misuse of imagination.’
- - Wisely put!

’Her sleeves were too long and she had to lift the hem to keep from stumbling.’
- - 'Tis the life of a Bosmeri lass. . . .

Deeper into the cult’s lair she goes as the suspense builds and she realizes the deeper she goes, the more difficult any escape will be. Between the subtle indignations of disrobing for that bureaucrat and the brainwashed stuff she is hearing, I suspect she’s really going to want a bath to wash this cult stuff off when she’s done!

There’s the Amulet of Kings! Poof, not so fast as Mankie ports off with it.

I assume that the Mythic Dawn did not expect to recruit any Bosmer, or they would have an appropriate size of robes. Mankar Cameron himself was supposedly born to a Bosmer mother yet was Altmer, so there is a bit of a bias against Wood Elves involved, maybe. I wonder if that will get her singled out?

Her preparations, and sneaky skills seem to be working so far. She has not taken the diversion to the storeroom for equipment that my characters usually did, so I hope that scroll does what she brought it for.

I never decided if Mankar wearing the Amulet of Kings was real, or illusion. Which way are you playing it?

If the Nord had been there, it would have been: "Hulk Smash!"

Lil' D is undercover, and taking a giant risk. Here is hoping that the cultists remain unaware of the destruction of the Imperial City cell, and are unprepared for possibly being infiltrated.

Harrow is a perfect name for someone with the title of Warden.

No pockets in the MD robes? It must have been made by the same people who make women's clothes.

Phew, that was a nerve-wracking episode, as Lil went deeper and deeper into the cult's fortress. As she noted, Darnit is well beyond offering any help here. It is her vs. 18 cultists, which are some long odds.

Previously: Lildereth entered the Mythic Dawn’s secret shrine, posing as the novitiate. She left Ulfe in charge of the horses. Darnand is hiding outside. To Lildereth’s surprise, Mankar Camoran was at the shrine. He took the Amulet of Kings to Paradise.


Renee: Jerric, Lildereth, Darnand, and Abiene all had individual games in Oblivion and in Skyrim. Then I made them as NPCs so they could be in each other’s games. Jerric was the only one who did the main quest. The others, especially Lildereth, I played mostly to understand how their characters’ combat would work in the game. All of them were fiction characters long before they were game characters. This part of the story is very close to how it can go in the game. I’m glad the creepiness came through. I was very creeped out the first time I did this part of the quest. Thank you, Renee!

Acadian: Thank you, Acadian! I wasn’t sure if I should spend so much time on her preparations, but she doesn’t get many pages in her own point of view. Managing her fear is another skill that the fellows don’t really see, they just get the results. She is going to be so ready for a splash in that waterfall!

ghastley: I figure the initiate robes would be few and cut to fit most, which means they probably don’t fit anyone. They probably have a stack of unfinished cultist robes somewhere ready for quick alteration. If they get two Bosmer at the same time, they could just split a robe! The gang will have to ponder “is it real or is it Illusion” about Camoran wearing the Amulet. Lildereth is assuming it’s real, for the moment too surprised to consider the alternatives.

SubRosa: That’s how she knew the dress she borrowed was homemade – it had pockets! Harrow’s name does set the scene for what comes next. Thank you, SubRosa!

Chapter 18: The Path of Dawn, Part Twelve

"No!" Lildereth gasped.

"It is a shame that the Master himself did not initiate you," Harrow said in agreement. "However, the Master's daughter Ruma is here." Harrow indicated the Altmer on the platform. "It is a great honor…" He sighed as if the honor was perhaps not so great.

The Amulet is gone. To Paradise, wherever that is. Lildereth pushed away her panic and thought of Darnand, head bent over some musty documents. Stay alive to tell him. He will figure something out.

Harrow called up to Ruma. "We have a new brother and a new sister who wish to bind themselves to the service of Lord Dagon." He pointed to the side of the steps and spoke to the two of them. "Drop your robes there before you go up."

The Altmer beckoned. "Advance, initiates."

Lildereth slipped out of the robe, twisting a sleeve so that her scroll wouldn't fall out and betray her. She and the man walked side by side up to the platform. Here comes the blood part. Hopefully more his than mine. Then she saw a figure lying on a low altar at the statue's feet. An Argonian, naked as the two initiates, wrists and ankles bound. His eyes were closed.

Ruma spoke as they ascended the steps. "You have come to dedicate yourselves to Lord Dagon's service. This pact must be sealed with red-drink, the blood of Lord Dagon's enemies." She motioned with a graceful, gloved hand. A silver dagger rested on the altar beside an evil-looking tome. "Take up the dagger and offer Lord Dagon the sacrificial red-drink as pledge of your own life's blood, which shall be his in the end." Her other hand swooped at the Argonian in a dramatic gesture.

That book, thought Lildereth. It must be important. At least I can bring that back with me. If I can just get away.

"I will slay the sacrifice!" the other initiate shouted, stress or excitement making his voice overly loud. He grabbed the dagger.

"Lord Dagon thirsts for red-drink!" crowed Ruma. "Sate him!"

Lildereth suddenly knew that though she didn't have a plan, she was not going to risk becoming Dagon's minion by getting splashed during a blood ritual. "We will do it together," she cried, grabbing the man's wrist. Her hand brushed against the book. Instantly her eyes darkened, and her mind filled with a thousand jagged screams. She reflexively twisted away from it, slamming into her fellow would-be initiate. He tried to pull away, yanking them both against the low altar.

The jostled Argonian opened his eyes. "Where am I? What is this place?" He thrashed upright, struggling with his bindings. "Arkay preserve me, I remember now…"

Lildereth reacted with the first spell that came to her mind. Green mist trickled from the fingers she still had clamped around the man's wrist. He had already reached a near frenzy in anticipation of cutting the Argonian. It was easy to redirect his aggression to another target. The man howled, lunging at the surprised Ruma with the silver dagger.

"…hooded men grabbed me as I left the Temple…" the Argonian rambled. His hands were busy rubbing wrist bindings against his toe claws.

"Lord Dagon shall drink your blood instead," Ruma shrieked at the man. As she reached for the staff on her back, the man tackled her off the raised platform. A collective gasp rose from the cultists.

Lildereth ripped the Ring of Khajiiti out of her hair. "Can you fight?" she asked the Argonian.

"I am a priest of the Nine!" he cried. He staggered to his feet, kicking off the severed bonds.

Then a cursed tome shouldn't harm you. Lildereth shoved the ring onto his clawed finger. "Wear this, it will make you fast and difficult to target. And grab that book! It might save our lives!" She turned and readied another spell, hoping that the priest would act quickly.

Without warning Lildereth found herself face-down on the floor, blue-white arcs dancing across her vision. Her skin felt the pain-prickling that came with a fever. A shock spell, she dimly realized.

"He dares to touch the sacred Xarxes!" a voice sounded over the roaring in her ears. "Kill him!"

Harrow's incredulous, "Did you just take that?" was followed by a series of loud cracks as the massive statue began to break apart. Sulfurous smoke joined the rising dust as several cultists summoned weapons and armor.

Lildereth scrambled back toward the stairs they had come up to make the sacrifice, flinching as stone blocks crashed to the floor. Her spell was gone from her mind, evaporated by the shock bolt. She brought it back as she found her target. It was Harrow, who now held a mace and wore summoned armor. With no time to refine her intent, she simply drove him into a rage.

"For Lord Dagon!" Harrow shrieked and attacked the cultist next to him.

"Follow me," Lildereth called to the Argonian. As she dashed down the stairs, she scooped up the discarded initiate robes. The scroll slid into her hand.

"By all that is holy, we must get out of this hellish place," the Argonian wailed. He seemed to be following.

Through the rising dust Lildereth could see a cluster of combatants surrounding Harrow and another around Ruma and the other initiate. All it would take was one with their wits about them to overwhelm her and take the book back from the priest. Her invisibility spell came unbidden to her hand, the urge to disappear was so strong. She shook it away.

The priest clutched the book in one arm. That could be the Mysterium Xarxes. Now they both had to escape. She flicked open the scroll and pushed its spell with her will. As she tossed the disintegrating parchment into the midst of the cultists, it roared into life in the form of a black bear.

Screams drowned out the bear's growl. Lildereth saw it rise up onto its hind legs and then lunge downward. She found herself knocked to the side by a fleeing mer, then to her hands and knees by another.

Someone pulled her up by the arm, their claws piercing her skin. "There!" the Argonian hissed against her ear. While some cultists were bunched up trying to escape through a side passage, a few others had run up the stairs.

A sizzling bolt of lightning hit a cultist mere feet in front of Lildereth and the priest, followed by a furious shriek. "Get them! Get them!"

Ruma. She brandished the staff above her head, waving at the two of them. Lildereth caught motion out of the corner of her eye and dove to the side. A mace grazed her hip as she rolled away. The priest stood frozen, the book held up in front of him in both clawed hands.

"The Xarxes!" shrieked Ruma. "Be careful!"

The resulting instant of confusion was enough to let Lildereth dart between her assailants. Someone caught her shoulder, but their fingers slipped off bare skin. She looked up to see what was happening at her target exit at the stairs. The cultists there were milling and shouting. "Open the door! Let us through! Open the door!"

"That way is blocked," Lildereth called to the Argonian. She whirled around to find a battered Harrow with mace raised, ready to bring it down on her head.

A blast of lightning knocked him sideways, the mace dissolving as it flew from his hand. The priest now held the Xarxes tucked in one arm. Shock energy danced around the palm of his outstretched hand.

"Get out of the way!" shouted Ruma. She struggled toward them, pushing would-be helpers aside with her staff.

Lildereth's stomach lurched. Under combat conditions, this foe was beyond her ability to influence or cloud with spells. She reached for the Argonian with one hand, readying her invisibility spell in the other. "Don't let go, and don't speak!" White magicka shimmered across Lildereth's skin, down her arm to their clasped hands, and then over the priest's scaly form. In its wake, they disappeared. With this crowd, Life Detection magic would be difficult to use.

"Find them!" Ruma swung wildly with her staff. Lildereth pulled the priest by the hand, leading him to the shadows behind the altar.

Crouching behind the shrine, Lildereth broke their invisibility with a whisper directly into his ear hole. "There are too many of them for me to fight," she said. "We'll put the initiate robes on. We won't blend in for long, but it should help while they're still panicked. There is a Breton outside called Darnand Penoit. I will protect you as much as I can, but if I fall you must take that book to him." She gripped his shoulders, bolstering his confidence through her touch. "My name is Lildereth. Please believe me, there are those who can bring this crisis to an end. If Darnand does not find you, seek him out through the Mages Guild. You must survive and bring him that book!"

"I am Jeelius. Let us make haste. They will certainly look for us back here."

The priest's words could have been a prophecy. Even as the baggy robes settled over them, a shout sounded through the confusion. They were discovered.

A Frenzy spell would be disastrous if she and Jeelius got caught up in the fighting. There was no time to individually Command cultists to do her will. They needed to be carried in a tide of the remaining cultists. Lildereth flicked her wrist and sent a swirl of Fear into the nearest enemies. As expected, they ran away shrieking.

Several of the cultists were already trying to escape. A group of their own fleeing in loud terror was enough to push the rest over the edge. Lildereth watched to see where they were going, then glanced into the shrine chamber. The bear stood on all fours amidst scattered lumps in burgundy robes, tearing at a screaming form with its teeth. Ruma was not within sight, but Lildereth could hear her shouting on the upper ledge where she and Harrow had entered. It wasn't clear if someone had unlocked the door leading back through the antechamber.

She followed the fleeing cultists down the side passage and deeper into the caverns, adding her screams to the mayhem.

"No!" Lildereth gasped.'
- - Fortunately, Harrow interpreted Lildereth's disappointment that the Amulet escaped as wishing she had been indoctrinated by the Master.

Even if Lil was willing to participate in the initiation with her fingers and toes crossed, Dagon might not see it that way. And now there is the innocent Argonian that she’s not about to slay in sacrifice.

Thank the Nine for Third Era illusion magic!

What an edge of our seats battle! Magic, melee and plenty of foes. Despite the intentional chaos, Lil did a great job of sharing her perspective as the fight waged on.

Thankfully, it seems the priest knows some helpful shock magic, allowing Jeelius and Lil to save each other’s lives.

Hopefully, being caught up in the chaotic fearful stampede (courtesy of more of Lil’s illusion magic) Jeelius the bookholder and Lil will be presented with an opportunity to escape this daedric den.

Lildereth seems to have avoided becoming the focus of interest in this. Jeelius has the book, the other initiate is the attacker, so unless anyone actually noticed who cast the fear and frenzy spells, she's just one of the fleeing crowd.

But of course she wants Jeelius to get the book out to Darnand, so that may be difficult to sustain. The more panicked cultists she can keep around them, the better, which makes this rather different from the usual clearance attempt. Interesting.

However, Ruma is connecting her with Jeelius, even if the others might not. It all depends on whether she can keep him inconspicuous among the stampede.

Mankar and the Amulet have slipped through Lil's grasp. But Ruma is still there, along with the Mysterium Xarxes, and the entire hideout of cultists. I would not want to go through with that ritual either. Aside from the whole murdering innocent people part, accidentally becoming a Mythic Dawn cultist does not sound like a good thing to me.

That is some book, if just brushing against it brings such visions. HP Lovecraft would have been envious.

And now things get going. The Frenzy spell was a good choice, that is two fewer foes that Lil has to worry about for now. The irony is of course, that I am sure Dagon does not care if one of his cultists kills another of their group. If he did kill Ruma, he'd probably still be initiated just as well as if he had killed the priest. Granted, Daddy Camoran might have had a few words for the guy later.

But someone else out there has a talent for lightning bolts. Lil better get out of there, or go on a Wolverine-esque berserk killing spree.

Well, a bear certainly covers the Wolverine-esque berserk rampage part... And it looks like Jeelius can pull his own weight in a fight too.

Lil's illusion magic is really paying off in this confused mess, turning it into an even greater maelstrom of chaos, and creating an opportunity for escape.

Nice, you posted the next story on April Fool's Day.

All of them were fiction characters long before they were game characters.

Fictional in Elder Scrolls? Or are any of them from tablegaming days? I've brought a couple (Gunter and Gray Wizard) from the table (high school/'80s) into ES. Which is fun to see how their original strategies and approaches evolve in a modern game.

I swear. You really are bringing a whole new level to the Main Quest with this story, Grits. Especially with the creeps. I enjoyed the MQ, for instance, but I have no recollection of it being so creepy and hair-raising. "Drop your robes..." F**K.

Eesh.

Her hand brushed against the book. Instantly her eyes darkened, and her mind filled with a thousand jagged scream

Wicked. Ah, seems like Lildereth just hit the guy with a Control or maybe a Frenzy... Cool, looks like they're halfway to escape...

What a delightful romp through the Dawn's secret lair! The bear was a nice touch - wonder if their name is Thunderpaws? A very different approach to getting out from what I've done, but just as effective.

And Jeelius knows shock! Yay! Always good to have an Argonian at your side in a fight.

Smart to have him hold the Xarxes - not only does it distract them from Lil, but it also makes them more reluctant to attack the priest.

Previously: Lildereth and Jeelius stole the Mysterium Xarxes. Chaos ensued.

Acadian: You got it, Lil takes strange magic very seriously. A daedric blood ritual is about the strangest she has encountered. She’d rather run than risk it. Thank you, Acadian!

ghastley: Exactly, she has gotten them on their way, but they’re not out yet! They’re about to meet some complications. Thank you, ghastley!

SubRosa: I had fun deciding which of Baurus’s scrolls Lil would choose to smuggle in, since she could only have one. Your comment made me think, I wonder if it would count as a sacrifice if Lil kills someone but not with the dagger? Hmm. Thank you, SubRosa!

Renee: All four of the main crew originated after my first Oblivion game, and were created to live in the Elder Scrolls Oblivion game times. As I was playing the Main Quest with another character I had a thought. I wonder how this would go with someone who is from Kvatch? That could be fun to write about. Thank you, Renee!

haute ecole rider: Lildereth laid down some strong boundaries while I was writing this. One was that she was not going to pick up that book! Good thing Jeelius stood up and made a role for himself. Thank you, Rider!

Chapter 18: The Path of Dawn, Part Thirteen

Lildereth followed the fleeing cultists at a run, adding her screams to the cacophony. Jeelius stayed at her heels, his wheezing breath telling her of his position. They ran through a winding passageway and past a corridor that branched off to the left. Lildereth stayed with the group both for the camouflage they provided and because they knew where they were going. They must be attempting to reach an exit.

A large, roughly rectangular chamber held rows of pallets on the floor and platform beds stacked three high along the walls. They had reached the living quarters. Lildereth slowed to look for a weapon. One cultist turned back at the far doorway. His face betrayed recognition. Lildereth flicked a spell at him. He shrieked and ran after his comrades.

Through the doorway was another corridor. The cultists had already rounded a corner out of sight. Lildereth grabbed Jeelius by the sleeve to make him stop. The noise ahead had changed. Their screams held a new note.

"Something is killing them," Jeelius hissed.

Darnand. He must have followed me almost immediately. Maybe someone opened that door in the rock wall to escape. "It's my partner. He's a fire mage, and he will have summoned something. Can you dispel it if it attacks us?"

Jeelius shook his head, eyes widened until they were completely round.

"Everything in here can burn. Back this way. We need to hide until I can get his attention." Lildereth ran back to the branch in the corridor. It was only a short hallway to an unlit room. From the smell it was a storeroom, and from the sound it was small. "Here. Pray to your gods I can get his attention before he accidentally kills the both of us."

"I shall fall back to the corner," said Jeelius.

Lildereth didn't turn to see if he did so. She crouched at the doorway, watching down the corridor.

The screams intensified until a figure stumbled out of the living quarters, its robe and hair on fire. She didn't have time to react before Darnand stalked through behind it, orange light flickering at his back. He carried the lich's staff in one hand. A bolt of shock from the staff flung the cultist past her and down the corridor. The body lay still. Flames began to nibble at a banner hanging above it on the wall.

"It's me!" Lildereth squeaked. "No fire!"

They met in the junction. Blood streaked his face. Smoke trailed around the hand that reached for hers. "What has occurred?"

"Ruma Camoran is here and hunting us," Lildereth said. "Mankar Camoran took the Amulet through some portal. He said he was going to Paradise."

"No," Darnand whispered. He clenched her hand so hard the bones ached. "Then it is over."

"We stole their evil book, and she knows we have it. I think it's the Mysterium Xarxes."

"What? Where is it?"

"Jeelius!" Lildereth called. The Argonian stepped into the corridor behind Lildereth. "They were going to sacrifice him. He's a priest of the Nine. I don't think I can carry it."

"Nor should I." Darnand looked over her head. "I am Darnand. Are you able to bear this burden?"

"Yes," hissed Jeelius.

"You must remove yourselves from this cave," said Darnand. "I will buy you as much time as I am able."

"I'm not leaving you. Jeelius, that book may be the last chance to find a way to defend our world. Take it to Brother Venco at Weynon Priory. Tell him the Amulet of Kings is in Paradise. Speak to no one else about it."

Jeelius held the Xarxes out in front of him. "I will find the right hands."

Darnand spoke. "Lildereth, I do not expect to defeat Ruma Camoran. Please. Go with Jeelius."

"She will find us in the woods," said Lildereth. "If that's what we think it is, it's a piece of her Prince. She'll be able to scry it or something. I don't want to stay and fight her, but I am. We have to kill her so Jeelius can escape."

They spent a moment wide-eyed while Darnand accepted it.

Lildereth turned to the priest. "Jeelius, get out of that cult robe as soon as you can. The ring will help hide you while you find different clothing."

Jeelius looked at his hand, then back at Lildereth. "Er…"

Lildereth realized the Argonian was clearly visible. "The ring! Where is the ring I gave you?"

"What ring?" Darnand asked, dread in his voice.

"I put the Ring of Khajiiti on his finger," Lildereth said. "At the beginning of this." She looked at both of his clawed hands again. "It's gone. Did you drop it somewhere?"

"It is unlikely that the artifact of a Daedric Prince would let itself slide off a finger," Darnand said. "Far more so that when a supposed Champion of Meridia places her ring on the hand of a priest of the Nine—"

Jeelius brandished the Xarxes.

"—who is carrying the artifact of another Daedric Prince, the Lady of Light took the ring back into her own realm."

Lildereth felt the loss in the pit of her stomach. "Our plan to give it to Jerric would not have worked then."

"Perhaps only long enough to get him concealed into a situation that once removed he would not survive," Darnand said. "Though I regret its loss…" He rubbed fingers across his eyes. "I regret its loss. There is nothing more to it."

Lildereth tilted her head, listening. "Someone is coming."

Ruma's voice echoed down the corridor. "Worm, you have what's mine! Bring it to me!"

"Camoran!" Darnand bellowed, making Lildereth jump. "I killed your brother. Your turn has come. Face me!" He started toward her.

"Wait!" called Lildereth. She pulled him back to the living quarters. "She's not alone. Let's hit them while they're in the doorway."

"I will summon my dremora. If things go wrong we may have a chance to evade it."

There was nothing to hide behind that wasn't on fire. As Jeelius disappeared through the far doorway, Lildereth turned to fight. But it was not Ruma Cameron who appeared. Two cultists rushed forward, both wearing the Mythic Dawn's conjured armor. Each carried a mace in one hand. Behind them was the guard she had met in the upper chamber, his hands filled with arcane frost.

Darnand hit the leading cultist with a long blast of lightning from his lich staff. She fell, but her armor didn't dissolve. Shock energy jumped from her to the other armored cultist as he charged Darnand, mace raised.

As the guard cast his spell at Lildereth, she issued her Command to him. Frost boomed against her neck and shoulder when she ducked too late.

The cultist's mace slid down the staff and struck Darnand's arm. The staff clattered to the floor. As Lildereth's guard caught his fellow cultist, a wave of ice crystals raced over his body. Screams drowned out the merry snap and crackle of burning furniture.

The other mace-wielder had regained her feet. Lildereth's magicka was frighteningly low, so she lunged for Darnand's staff. The frost burns made her cry out as she wrenched it into position. A long blast of lightning from the staff pushed the cultist away from them.

"Down!" called Darnand.

Lildereth hit the floor. A sheet of flame roared over her head, engulfing their three opponents and the bunk beds behind them.

"I used up your staff," Lildereth said. "I'm sorry, it would have lasted longer in your hands."

"It is I who must apologize," said Darnand. "I spent much of my magicka getting this far." As he fumbled with a potion, Ruma Cameron strode through the doorway.

"Return what is mine, and I will give you a swift end," Ruma said. A smirk twisted her elegant features.

She won't want to damage the book, Lildereth reminded herself. And she isn't sure who has it.

Darnand opened a portal between himself and Ruma. As the dremora stepped through, Darnand dropped the potion bottle. Blood ran freely from his fingertips.

"On your belly, nikyn!" the dremora howled. To whom was unclear.

Lildereth couldn't count on her Illusion spells against Ruma. She could still disappear and leave Darnand. Ruma would chase Jeelius, if he held on to the book. Lildereth could live, and track Ruma. The thought slid like a cool knife through her panic. She clenched her teeth against it. There was another option.

Taking in a deep breath, she focused on the center of her chest where she imagined her very life's energy resided. On the exhale she pushed that energy down her arms and out through her hands. A translucent bow staff formed between them. The grip felt warm.

The dremora took a wide stance as the mages battled for control of him. When Ruma turned to Darnand with a triumphant smile on her face, Darnand lifted his arm. Instead of the expected wall of fire, a narrow jet of flame erupted from his outstretched hand toward her. The dremora raised his sword.

Lildereth reached forward with the bow in her left hand, and with her right drew an arrow into existence from tip to feathers, aetherial blue like the bow but as solid as wood and sinew in her hands. Tension told her that the bow string was ready. As Ruma whirled away from Darnand's fire, Lildereth shot the arrow through the center of her chest. She felt it pass through Ruma's body, the Altmer's blighted soul connected for an instant to her own.

She closed her eyes against the feeling, though it didn't help. When she opened them the bow had faded into a glow around her palms. Ruma lay on the floor. Darnand was upright beside an open portal. The raging dremora dissolved in a swirl as he was sucked backward into it, like water down a drain.

Awe replaced Darnand's customary tone of scholarly inquiry. "What was that?"

It took two attempts to force sound from her throat. "Make sure she's dead."

Jeelius appeared in the far doorway. "My friends. Allow me to assist you."

Lildereth stayed on the floor. "The way you follow directions, priest, are you sure you're not a Nord?"

"I accept," said Darnand. He staggered as he stood up from checking Ruma.

As Jeelius tended Darnand, Lildereth stripped off the hateful robe. "There will be clothes somewhere in here for you," she told Jeelius. "Probably right in that little storage chamber. They take everything away from their initiates."

"Let us make haste," Darnand said. "Even now Ruma may stand in her father's realm, telling him of our deeds."

"And this whole room is on fire," said Lildereth.

Jeelius spoke from inside the robe as he pulled it over his head. "Where you lead, I follow. I am convinced that you work on behalf of all that is light."

Now is not the time to tell him that you are not a necromancer, Lildereth thought. She stifled a deranged giggle.

Jeelius turned to Lildereth, healing light in his hands. Her deep cuts, scrapes, frost burns, and bruises faded away, but the hollow ache in her chest remained. "I cannot help you further," he rasped.

"It will pass," Lildereth told him, swiping at her blood-smeared hip and leg. "Thank you."

"I shall collect documents," said Darnand. "I entered past some offices. There are none there left alive."

"Be quick," said Lildereth. "This isn't your friend's library."

The store room held piles of personal items sorted by type. Her pack and clothing would eventually have made their way to this eerie chamber. She supposed any valuable items had been removed and used for the benefit of the cult. Or had been diverted into some cultist's pocket, like her borrowed silver ring. "Jeelius," she called from the doorway. "It's getting very warm out here, but it's cold where we're going. Get a cloak."

"I have found my own robe!" called Jeelius. "Right at the top of this pile!" He returned to the smoky chamber and bent to buckle sandals onto his feet.

"It's a shame you weren't wearing boots when they captured you," said Lildereth. "Let's move."

They picked their way through the shrine's living quarters, past torn and smoking bodies. A few of the cultists must have escaped the caverns, alerting Darnand to the change in plan. Without leadership they should not be a problem in the woods. Lildereth moved carefully in case any had decided to return.

The concealed door stood open. Here gore splashed the walls in the patterns she recognized as the daedroth's rampaging. They stepped over scattered body parts and dark puddles.

In the antechamber Lildereth dressed herself in the clothing that she had worn to the shrine. "Here's a pack for you, Jeelius." She handed him the four volumes of the Commentaries that she had brought. Jeelius placed them in the pack along with the Mysterium Xarxes.

Darnand called from the corridor, "It is I." He emerged carrying both his lich staff and Ruma's. A satchel hung over one shoulder.

"Let us leave this cursed place," said Jeelius.

The plan was just for Darnand and Lildereth to report back to Baurus, but now Jeelius and the Mysterium Xarxes have been added to the mix. I also don't recall where Baurus expects to meet up with them.

I'll just have to wait and find out.

How many times has she seen the results of Darnand's daedroth summonings to be familar with its gore pattern? Do left-handed daedroth spatter differently from righties? Flame before or after rending slash? The true connoiseur knows the signs.