...Brilliant...

Oh hells I love this story... ...

And here's me listening to a song about A Glass Of Champagne... ...

Oh this...

*Opens mouth to say something...*

*Raises eyebrow...*

*Closes mouth again...*

...

*Robert misses his early twenties...*... ...

Brilliant writing...Loved it hugely...

Fantastic... ...

Nice one... ...

Those chaurus and falmer are some of the worst enemies in the game!

Now onto the chapter:

The Ring of Khajiit! I bet Lildereth is in possession of that artifact now.

Fantastic description of listening to a deadra.

Haha, I figured Jerric would handle the daedric lord of debauchery. I thought Jerric would have been involved with the, ahem, worship until he described what happens when one worships Sanguine. Very good reasons to stay away!

This next quest will be quite fun!

mALX: Jerric is definitely the guy you want with you at the Shrine of Sanguine. So that you can pants him and run. Thank you, mALX!

ghastley: Cyrodiilic brandy goggles? Pure speculation, of course.

SubRosa: Exactly, the fellows know that both Arkay and Meridia approve of their actions, but they are unsure if the Divine’s and the Daedric Prince’s overlapping interest has produced an alliance, a rivalry, or just indifference to one another. Sanguine and Dibella do not seem to get along, for example. In most cases it could turn out badly for the mortals in the middle. Here’s the snip about Darnand from Chapter Nine, posted long ago. Jerric returned to Anvil after Kvatch in a semi-feral state, and Darnand took care of him:


Their common losses, Jerric saving his butt on the Gold Road, and Abiene’s concern for him are what made Darnand reach out to Jerric. It’s not something he would otherwise do. Thank you for your comments, SubRosa!

Acadian: I remember clever Buffy with her errant tresses at the dinner party so well! I shudder to think what Jerric might consider an equivalent wardrobe malfunction. Thank you, Acadian! It was certainly fun to write.

McBadgere: Thank you, McB! Jerric made me grin in this episode, too.

King Coin: Lildereth does indeed have temporary custody of the Ring of Khajiit. I’m afraid that Darnand was more horrified than even I expected. And for good reason! Thank you, KC!

Where we are: Jerric, Darnand, Lildereth, and Kvatch Guardsman Jesan Rilian are camped along the Red Ring Road. Jerric and Darnand have finished their business in County Skingrad: securing recommendations from the local Mages Guild chapter, earning the Ring of Khajiit from Meridia, and receiving an assignment from Sanguine. They proceed now to the Imperial City, where Jerric and Rilian will speak for Kvatch before the Elder Council. A refresher on their history, Jerric pulled an arrow from Rilian’s throat during the Battle for Castle Kvatch. That decision indirectly cost Ilend Vonius his life.

Thernd, Equestria, and the Valley of Horses are the wonderful creations of Acadian and Buffy. Many, many thanks for allowing them to grace Jerric’s world!



Chapter 14: The Imperial City, Part One

Jerric, Darnand, Lildereth, and Ulfe sat around the campfire. By their third night of travel with Jesan Rilian, the young Imperial had slipped into their routine as smoothly as if he had always been with them. Another night of clear skies and mild temperatures let them leave the tent packed and simply spread the bedrolls under the stars. Darnand used the extra time in study. Lildereth was quietly grooming the dog. Rilian trotted back and forth carrying firewood and water. Jerric made soup.

“Explain to me why you can’t cook the soup by heating up the pot,” Jerric said to Lildereth.

“The metal gets too hot and cools too quickly. Next time I could heat the pan for you to sear the meat, if you like.”

Jerric thought about it. “Then why don’t you just heat the soup?”

“I could, but you would not want to taste it. Heating water that way is fine. It doesn’t scorch.” Lildereth nodded down the path to the creek before Jerric could form his next question. “About Rilian. His youth may strike the right note with the Elder Council, like you said. However, his beard…”

“I know,” Jerric sighed. “He looks like he ate a toffee apple and played in the dirt. I keep expecting Ulfe to hold him down and try to wash him.”

“It’s your fault. Half of Kvatch started growing their beards when you walked onto the plateau. What do you plan to do about it?”

Jerric ruefully scratched his jaw. “I’m going to shave mine.”

Rilian sloshed back into camp carrying the canvas water buckets. “This one’s leaking quite freely now,” he cheerfully announced. “I’ll make another trip if I need to.”

Jerric filled the kettle. “I think this is enough. We can carry our own backsides to the creek for washing, but we should boil our water this close to the Imperial City.” Jerric glanced across at Darnand. “Why can’t you put a charm on these so they hold water?”

“I am able,” said Darnand. He frowned at his parchment, then bent back to his book.

Jerric tossed a stick at his friend, earning his attention. “Well?”

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

“All right, then. Here you go.” Jerric held out the dripping bucket.

“Do you have a portable enchanting alter?” Darnand demanded. “Do you have full access to the Arcane University? If so, please enlighten me as to the purpose of this venture.”

“You would have to keep the buckets charged,” said Rilian. “They don’t have magicka to power the enchantment.”

The other three looked at him. “Are you a mage now, soldier?” asked Jerric.

The young Imperial’s smile took on a dreamy quality. “I like to talk to Sigrid Fire-Walker.” He settled himself beside the fire. “Why didn’t you already have a second name?” he asked Jerric. “I’ve heard a lot of stories about you. You should have been Jerric the Something.”

“Ogre-Stones was taken,” Jerric explained, biting his cheek. “How about Jerric the Red. I bleed a lot.” He placed another log on the fire.

“Jerric the Flatulent,” suggested Lildereth. “His Argonian name could be Sits-With-Thunder.”

“Jerric the Vomiting,” said Darnand, still sounding irritated. “Jerric the Fountain.”

“Jerric the Dragon-Tongued,” Lildereth said, “or so I’ve heard.”

Jerric lost a moment to panic. How could he keep Abiene’s secrets if she didn’t keep them herself? Rilian sounded like he was choking. Jerric reached over and thumped him on the back, grasping for an explanation.

Lildereth saved him from further blundering. “I am surprised by the number of women in Anvil who are eager to tell their tales of you. What is there to brag about? They say you’ll bed anyone who slows down walking by.” She picked another burr from Ulfe’s coat and flicked it into the fire.

Jerric started to breathe again. “If they’re willing.”

Darnand closed his book and looked around at them. “Since the subject has been broached, I believe I might shed some light on the nighttime practices at the Skingrad guild hall.”

“You slept with Adrienne?” Jerric asked hopefully. “I must be used to the noise, I didn’t even notice.”

Darnand ignored the remark. “They do not fill all of their magicka gems with the energy that is released when a soul leaves the body.”

“I wondered about that,” said Jerric. “Baskets full of gems, and not one of those silk and velvet mages looks like they have shoes for walking, much less hunting. And you saw poor Erthor when he got back inside the walls, he’s no killer.”

“Adrienne casts a spell to capture the energy released when coupling.”

Jerric took a moment to figure it out while Lildereth murmured to Rilian. “So that’s why she… And everyone… Dibella’s breast! I missed a real opportunity there.”

Darnand snorted. “She casts it upon herself.”

“Druja?” asked Lildereth.

“Does not participate. I have heard of strange doings at that guild hall, but no one has ever explained it.”

“And now you know,” said Jerric, watching his friend.

“And now Adrienne owes me three hundred fifty Septims,” Darnand declared.

Only the crackling fire replied.

Darnand’s grin made him look like a lad. “Not really,” he chuckled.

“Still a maiden, then,” Jerric teased through their laughter.

“Indeed,” said Darnand. Then he flushed crimson while they all stared at him.

“The… uh… soup… burning!” Rilian finally managed.

It wasn’t, but Jerric stirred it anyway. “What’s the plan when we get to the city?” he asked. “Are we staying together?”

“I’m staying at the Arcane University,” Lildereth said. “I have business there.” She played with Ulfe’s ears for a moment, then she looked at Darnand. “I can get you into the Chironasium, but I don’t know those spells you were talking about. You’d have to do the enchanting. I warn you, it will be expensive. And I’ll blame you if they catch us.”

Darnand looked like a lad on Saturalia morning. “I did not wish to impose… Lildereth, we must… Jerric, what other..?” He scrambled for his quill and fresh parchment.

Jerric had an idea. “I used to have a feather ring, but I…” He glanced at his friend.

“Lost it dicing,” Darnand supplied, scribbling furiously.

“Yeah.” Jerric grinned. “Maybe we could enchant Flash’s pack with a feather spell. Then we could--”

Darnand interrupted with brisk authority. “That would be more expensive to make, and costly to keep working. Flash does not have magicka for the enchantment to use. As with Rilian’s bucket, it would need to be recharged. If you wore a feather enchantment, your horse could carry more. An Alteration charm works through your magicka, but does not drain it. That is why your feather ring did not work when you tried it on a horse.” Darnand gave Jerric a smug glance.

“How did you know about that?” Carahil had said that illusion didn’t allow mages to read thoughts, but Jerric still wasn’t convinced.

Darnand snorted. “It was not difficult to surmise. I suppose that must have been a different animal. What have you tried on poor Kip?”

“Not my water breathing ring, thankfully.”

Darnand started to reply, then he turned to Lildereth. “You do not suppose…”

“I’m not going to try it at the Praxographical Center,” Lildereth told him. “We won’t get you past Gaspar and Borissean. Those two were difficult to deal with even before the new restrictions.”

Darnand frowned. “Perhaps in Chorrol…”

Jerric waited as long as he could. “Perhaps in Chorrol, what?”

His friend’s eyes refocused. “I was thinking that the guild halls have facilities that are no longer in use, since Arch Mage Traven introduced so many regulations. Each chapter’s enchanting and spellmaking altars still exist, as do various portals, teleportation pads, scrying mirrors… Even the altars used in necromancy still occupy their places in some of the guild halls. In addition, many private amenities are doubtlessly quite operational, though they are now unsanctioned by the guild. I wonder…”

They suddenly became aware of the County Kvatch law enforcement officer sitting wide-eyed in their midst.

“Not my jurisdiction,” said Rilian.

“I am most familiar with the Chorrol guild hall,” said Darnand. “And it is there that I am most likely to receive forgiveness.”

“I prefer my plan,” said Lildereth. “Let’s not get caught.”

Jerric noticed that Darnand was still writing. “I could see about picking up a contract from the Fighters Guild if we need more coin,” he said. “It will take more time, but I’d hate for you to pass up an enchanting opportunity.”

“What about the Arena?” Rilian asked Jerric. “I heard you used to compete in Kvatch.”

“Back when I was your age, and not the event matches. Just the empty hand tournaments. I’m not going to risk killing someone for a game. Besides, it seems like a bad idea for a guard to show the whole city what he can do with a sword.”

“I will stay in the Mages Guild hostel,” Darnand announced. “That will not cost us. Jerric, you and Rilian are on Kvatch County’s coin. You may find me through the guild when you have concluded your business. I will have much to occupy my time, if I gain access to certain private libraries.”

“Steward Matius recommended an inn for us,” Rilian told Jerric. “I have directions from the Weye bridge.”

“Weye,” Jerric said. “I have some friends in Weye. I wish we had the time to visit them.” I have a friend at Luther Broad’s Boarding House, too, he thought. I will take the time to report to him. “What about the horses? There are liveries outside the city, but I don’t know them.”

“Equestria in the Valley of Horses,” Lildereth said promptly. “It’s below the Arcane University. The stable master is a friend, though it’s been years since I’ve seen him. I’ll take them for you, Jerric, unless you plan to go all the way to the university first.”

“What if he’s not there anymore?” Jerric asked her. “Things happen.” The thought of Flash and Kip in unknown hands disturbed him.

“He’s still there. Thaurron told me. They only accept horses that belong to guild mages, though.” Lildereth sent an apologetic glance at Rilian.

“Not a problem,” Jerric said. “I know a fellow in Weye who will keep your horse, Rilian. He might keep Ulfe, too, if she’ll stay. Retired fisherman, plenty of time and loves horses. Your Ipean will be spoiled rotten by the time we’re through in the city.” Jerric stirred a handful of chopped herbs into the soup. “That sounds like a plan, Lildereth. You and Darnand can leave us in Weye. We’ll get Ipean settled, and maybe Ulfe. We’ll walk in with just my pack and Rilian’s little satchel. Do you mind taking the rest of our gear? Maybe your friend will have a place we can store it.”

“His name is Thernd,” Lildereth told him. “I will keep Ulfe with me, unless she stays at Equestria. Thernd has trained imps that patrol the valley and keep the horses safe. Ulfe got along well with Sparky, so I don’t foresee a problem. If anything we’ll have to coax her away from Thernd when we leave. He’ll put her to work, but she’ll love it. He has a way with animals.”

Jerric glanced across the fire. “Does that work for you, Rilian? Say, tear up that bread, will you?”

“Sure,” said the Imperial, reaching for the loaf. “Our inn is on the edge of the Elven Gardens district. I’ll head back to Kvatch as soon as we’re through with the Elder Council. Weye is right on my… way.”

Jerric got out a wedge of cheese and started slicing it onto his board. “What are you doing at the university, Lildereth? Charm school?”

Lildereth opened the wine. “In a way. I hope to train with Martina Floria. I will leave word for Darnand at the hostel, should my plans change.”

Darnand looked up from his list. “Will you accompany us to Chorrol?”

For a moment Jerric thought she wasn’t going to answer. “I have not decided yet,” she finally said.

“All right then,” said Jerric. He didn’t want to think about losing Lildereth, but a maybe was far better than a no. He started scooping soup into wooden bowls. “I guess we still have time to argue over who gets to keep the dog.”

ACE!!... ...

Loved it!!...This always make me laugh...The second-names discussion was so funny... ...



I was like..."Yes, yes *Nods* liking the idea...Excellent explaination..." Then I got to the "Nord, must you" and I just burst out laughing...Oh my god that's just funny right there that is... ...

Sooo brilliant writing...

Oooh, the "Catching the energy released when coupling" spell sounds fun... ...

Nice one!!... ...

*Applauds most heartily*...

This is my second time replying, as my browser ate the first one. So it will sadly not be as in depth as originally.

I loved the scene of the three musketeers (plus their new fourth) sitting around the campfire. As always, all three shine in their own unique ways. The discussion of nicknames for Jerric was simply priceless. I am with Lildreth on his Argonian name.

I also liked the extra depth you once again gave the Skingrad guild hall. It is like an onion, with so many layers. The addition of sex magic was pure brilliance on your part. But in retrospect rather obvious, as sex magic is as old as sex and magic after all, and was a cornerstone of Pagan religions.

You have also once again given us more excellent world-building concerning the Mages Guild, and how they have locked up all the spell and enchanting altars at the local guild halls, giving the Arcane U a monopoly that can be strictly monitored.

Wonderful nods to the JF and BF, with the mentions of Equestria and Aelwin's private stabling service!

ROFL !! Jerric as the trendsetter of fashion in Kvatch - he is their hero, but still that had me rolling!



SPEW !! This should have read, "I like to talk to Sigrid's Fire Walkers!"

The whole discussion of names for Jerric had me rolling!

I have gotten used to them being three, it will be very hard to see that broken apart. (Although I doubt Jerric will bring them to his meeting with Mr. B at Luther Broads...unless of course he meant he was going to "Luther's Broads" like Rachel's "Edward," lol).

Awesome Write !!

Delightful! I love the quiet campfire circles you write.

“Adrienne casts a spell to capture the energy released when coupling.”
How very efficient! Perhaps it helps to explain the shortage of children in Cyrodiil.

‘They suddenly became aware of the County Kvatch law enforcement officer sitting wide-eyed in their midst.
“Not my jurisdiction,” said Rilian.
How smoothly you work dear Jesan into the gang. What a magical way you have with managing dialogue within a small group!

I think the world of Sigrid Fire-Walker for so many more than two reasons.

Thank you so much for featuring the Valley of Horses and Equestria! What a beautifully concise description you provided!

Warning: You are not allowed to write Lildereth out of Jerric’s story!

“I am able,” said Darnand. He frowned at his parchment, then bent back to his book.
Darnand is hilarious in this one! I love it when he gets difficult with the others. Nice use of the water walking spell.

Sits-With-Thunder!!!

Lots of planning in this one. Equestria! I wonder if Buffy’s in town?

Oh I hope Lildereth stays with them. She’s such an awesome character. Great chapter Grits!

Back when it seemed a good idea to transfer to my Kindle and annotate there... Well- I have a history with "good ideas."

All of which is to say- there are comments- I will locate them- and I will post them. Because this story DESERVES whatever small accolades I can provide.

McBadgere: Thank you, McBadgere! Poor Darnand, unraveling arcane mysteries while his friend bounces sticks off of his head.

SubRosa: I had the same feeling about the sex magic, once it popped into my head I thought of course that’s what they’re doing! Campfire scenes are so fun to write. Thank you, SubRosa!

mALX: It’s so tempting to make Baurus hide out in a brothel now! I miss Rachel’s story. Thank you for pointing out Kvatch’s beard-growing in honor of their hero.

Acadian: If I tried to write Lildereth out, she would simply not allow it! I’m having enough trouble with Abiene annoyed over being shuttled off to Chorrol. Both of them have planted the seeds for short pieces of their own while I’ve been so distracted lately. Thank you, Acadian! Rilian just sat down by the fire like he belonged there. Thank you so much for letting Flash, Kip, Banner, and Ulfe frolic in the wonderful Valley of Horses while their two-legged friends visit the Imperial City!

King Coin: Thank you, KC! I love giving Darnand his irritable mage moments. I’m glad you pointed out that line, I actually thought of you when I wrote that part.

treydog: Thank you, treydog! Your comments are so very appreciated.

Where we are: The Imperial City. Darnand and Lildereth are off pursuing their own interests. Jerric and Rilian bring a message from Kvatch to the Elder Council. This episode turned out shorter than ususal, because... it just did.




Chapter 14: The Imperial City, Part Two


Jerric stepped through the door, past the Palace Guards, and out of the White Gold Tower’s shadow. He closed his eyes for a moment, drinking the sunlight in through his eyelids. The breeze was as fresh as any the Imperial City had to offer. The air in the council chamber had felt lifeless and thick.

He turned when he heard footsteps. Rilian stood grinding his teeth with his sword belt in one hand, the Colovian Signet Ring clenched in the other.

“I thought that went well,” Jerric ventured, buckling his own belt.

“They didn’t solve anything, just postponed their decision,” Rilian fumed. “Acting Steward is not Steward, and a Steward is not a Count.”

“None of those is a prisoner. They could have handed you a writ for Savlian’s arrest and told you to bring him back for questioning. Anyway, they’re nowhere near deciding on the next count, and there hasn’t been an heir since the Goldwine lads were killed. For now Savlian is Kvatch’s highest authority, whatever they want to call him. Why did they make you keep the ring?”

Rilian opened his hand and looked at it resting in his palm. “To give Savlian their approval without actually stating it. The new count will get the ring from Acting Steward Matius. Then he can make Matius his Steward if he wants, and give him the job he’s already been doing. Loyalty for nothing! Captain Matius…” Rilian clenched his teeth over the words. The ring disappeared back into his fist.

“Jesan.” Jerric waited until Rilian looked up at him. “You made our city proud today. It was decided before we ever got here. And it’s done. Savlian can lead the city as long as those old fetchers in there keep dragging their feet, no matter what they call him.” He gripped the young man’s shoulder. “Now let’s find some of that Nibenean pale ale and see about getting you laid.”

Rilian still looked furious.

“I know a brothel,” Jerric continued. “I wasn’t offering personally.”

Rilian battled himself for a moment. “It can’t be past three bells of the afternoon. I could get as far as Weye, and…” Eventually he managed a weak smile. “We ought to change out of uniform first.”

“Good thinking.” Jerric looked around the circular plaza. “Now, which way is the damnable inn?”

Rilian’s outlook improved considerably after the brothel. The two of them strolled along the water on the way back to the Elven Gardens District. Jerric marveled at the engineering that washed filth into the sewers while keeping surface waters clean. It seemed that nothing was wasted in a city with this many folk. Any scrap that dropped to the ground was scooped back up by thin hands. Even a slip of paper could feed someone’s fire.

The King and Queen Tavern provided a royal feast and thrones to sit upon while dining. Jerric and Rilian put away mountains of roasted vegetables, spit-cooked beef, boiled potatoes with Colovian butter, sliced glass-house tomatoes, and pitchers of pale, bitter ale. They talked a little of the future, but mostly they traded memories. Eventually Jerric pulled Rilian to his feet before his face could land in the pie plate.

“Up,” Jerric told him. “Bed. Sleep in tomorrow. You’ve earned it.”

Rilian answered with a mumble. Jerric reversed his direction and dragged him out to the privy.

Back in the room, Rilian proved easy to manage.

“Boots,” said Jerric. “Blanket. All right, here’s a bucket. Rilian! If you need it, here’s a bucket.”

Jerric left Rilian curled in the center of the bed while he moved to the desk. Parchment, quill, and ink had thoughtfully been provided. Jerric drank some water to clear his head. He did not believe he was a strong letter-writer, and this one was important.

Rilian-


If I’m not back when you read this, it means I got involved with things and I’m still busy. Go ahead back to Kvatch. We said farewell last night, in case you don’t remember. Sorry about your headache. Drink all the water in the pitcher, get to the privy, then take the potion. Curse me all you want, in the end it will be worth it.

I sat up awhile after you passed out while you slept and thought about what you said to me. Here’s what I have to say back.

Rilian, you are no man’s squire. It would honor me to fight by your side again, as an equal. Maybe someday we will get that chance. But right now I can’t take you with me.

I can’t tell you to stay in Kvatch either, but I hope you will. You are a Kvatch Wolf, a warrior. There won’t ever be any more of us that knew Kvatch before she burned. Whether you stay or not, you stand among her heroes. Here is my wish for you.

Go home. Defend our city and keep her proud. Pick out a piece of land with Captain Acting Steward Matius and let him build a manor for you. Find a good woman and start making little Rilians. Otherwise, what are we fighting for? (Also let your heart pick your lady, not just your member. But get a peek at her Ma if you can, just in case the gods are good and one day you wake up old together, then you won’t be surprised.)

I know I’m telling you your life, but I’ve had more ale than I planned and I hope you will forgive me. You can really hold your drink for an Imperial.


Your friend,

Jerric

He looked around the room while the ink dried. Savlian had chosen well for them. Cheerful paintings and homey tapestries covered every wall. The furnishings were spotless and placed for maximum convenience. The proprietor had even moved arming racks into their room while they were meeting with the Elder Council. Jerric thought it might be years before Rilian would sleep again in a chamber this comfortable.

He folded the letter and placed it next to the water pitcher. This is no time to watch an Imperial sleep, he told himself, buckling his sword belt while he did just that. Rilian looked impossibly young. Jerric could still see the scar on his throat.

He resisted the urge to tuck in the blankets. Instead he picked up his cloak and slipped out the door.

Message or no message, it was time to find Baurus.

This was fabulous! You let J & J tell us what happened with the Elder Fetchers Council. The brothel was a great idea for an afternoon pick me up!

’Any scrap that dropped to the ground was scooped back up by thin hands.’
I am so envious of this sentence! What an efficient and perfect image you crafted here of hard life in the big city! Bravo!

Jerric’s letter was stunningly good and pure Jerric. I love the touches you put in about telling Jesan to settle down with a good woman and the hope that the young wolf would stay in Kvatch. Jerric didn’t sacrifice a bit of his Jerricness here, but he sure did display a caravan load of wisdom.

“I know a brothel,” Jerric continued. “I wasn’t offering personally.”
This gave me more then a faint smile.

Any scrap that dropped to the ground was scooped back up by thin hands.
As Acadian already said, this was a wonderful little statement, that says so much.

But get a peek at her Ma if you can, just in case the gods are good and one day you wake up old together, then you won’t be surprised.
This is good advice, that most men just do not seem to grok.

Jerric could still see the scar on his throat.
I had forgotten about that until now. Excellent decision of yours to put that little observation in.

So, now we have gotten the obligatory waste of time with the Elder Council out of the way. Next up Jerric will go meet someone who actually gets things done, and I suspect we will see some progress being made in the Oblivion Crisis once more.

I've actually done things like that line depicted too.

Lol, Jerric and Rilian have a night on the town. Love it! The letter was the best part though. I know other have said this before, but it was just so Jerric! His advice and hopes layed out for Rilian. This is probably what he wishes he could do.

That's absolutely brilliant that is...

Oh hells I loved that...*Applauds*...

Of the many Lols...These were my faves...



And...



Thems just funny right there, thems is... ...

Love it love it love it...

Nice one!!... ...

*Applauds heartily*...

This chapter was so Jerric, infused with his personality. Loved everything about it - most especially his drunken ramblings in the letter to Rilian with the crossed out places. Awesome Write !!!!

Comments for Chapter 10:

[quote]“I knew it. That s’wit! Oh, I’ll get her. You just wait! Must have taken some fast talking to get her to confess.”

“Not really. I’m not so good at that. I guess the part where I stood there in the dark being a Nord was enough to get her talking.”[/quote]

A distinct possibility- and perhaps one reason why Azzan took him on in the Fighters Guild.

And of course the whole “extra work for the client” passage had me laughing.

[quote]She sat with one of his books in her lap and a clay cup at her elbow. Her smile started to warm him from the inside out.[/quote]

Yes.

The interaction with Varel Morvayn was another highlight, especially when you add the concept that repair hammers are not simply mundane tools, but are powered by enchantments of their own.

And then- yet another quite brilliant section with the removal of the scar tissue. And the meditation on the uncomfortably close relationship between Restoration and Necromancy.

[quote]He felt hurt in a way that he wanted to deny. “I trusted you, but you didn’t trust me,” he explained. The new distance between them was worse than the betrayal, he decided.[/quote]

Here you show your great skill at describing the difficulties of relationships, even among well-meaning people.

[quote]I believe there is a war coming that has nothing to do with daedra. Half of the Council of Mages resigned when Traven became Arch-Mage. Many others left with them. They did not just go join the Bakers Guild.”[/quote]

Which explanation makes me feel some better about Darnand’s studies.

[quote]The pretty Redguard woman, he decided. I’m unlikely to kill her.[/quote]

With those lines and the weighing of options just before it, you show wonderfully how far Jerric still has to go.

[quote]He bit his tongue to keep from asking what she thought he assumed the valuable thing was. He didn’t have a clue, and his curiosity needled him.[/quote]

By the Nine! Arvena’s teaching DID help!

And I also like the way you both point out- and then resolve- the inconsistency of Maelona and Gogan’s story.

Oh poor Darnand. Volunteered as bait for a reverse honey trap!

[quote]“Twenty seconds is plenty. Any longer sounds too much like a fair fight. I’m not in the honor business, just killing.”[/quote]

Spoken like someone who has been inside an Oblivion Gate.

The discussion of the sigil stones is chilling- and also makes a lot of sense.

[quote]Her spirit always filled her the way light fills a room, spilling over into the darkness outside.[/quote]

Wow. That just… wow.

And then- you feed us. Woo Hoo!

The banter at the Fighters Guild rings wonderfully true.

And then poor Norbert’s idea of keeping things “confidential.” Which goes a long way toward explaining what Jerric will discover.

[quote]His palm found Redeemer’s hilt in the gesture that now served to ground him. Knight Brother of the Blades, he told himself. Go train, fool.[/quote]

Excellent bit of internal struggle there.

[quote]“I know how an enchanted weapon works. If it needs recharging before we’re through, tough. When you see a dremora, your hand will reach for the blade you’ve trained with. You can be killed in the time it takes to think it through. Are you done moaning? Then let’s get some practice.”[/quote]

Wonderful advice. It HAS to be all reflex and muscle memory.

The memory of Jerric’s first love again tells us so much about him- and why we love him in turn.

[quote]“What did you call Rhano’s father?” asked Darnand.

Jerric and Rhano shared a look. “Sir.”[/quote]

That brought a smile.

[quote]A blood-drenched Nord with a sword in his hand gets attention even at midnight in a dive bar, Jerric discovered.[/quote]

I can see how that might happen.

[quote]They look at me and think, ‘There goes a man on his way to a killing. Maybe he’ll stop and do some raping first.’ So I start off with a smile.”[/quote]

So perfect a statement of his own doubts and his personality.

[quote]Fjirsten would love this, he thought. Yellow is her favorite color.

He had left himself completely unguarded. The black pit he carried inside simply reached up and swallowed him. Grief took his sight.[/quote]

And yes. It sneaks up on you just like that.

[quote]“I think I’ve shown you my views on that subject. Now whenever I see a peony in bloom, I’ll think of you.” I wonder if I’ll see spring, he suddenly thought.[/quote]

The bittersweet of that reminds me powerfully of seeing the daffodils pushing up through the snow.

I would have to quote the entire posts regarding the glass house and the marsh to highlight the “good parts,” because they are good in their entirety. Your descriptive powers are on full display.

[quote]“What were you about to do?”

“Take a bath. Wash the blood out of my hair. Lie awake and listen to dead women screaming.”[/quote]

And that says more than all the "debriefing" in the world would manage.

[quote]There is one more lesson I would have you teach me before you leave for Chorrol, Magister. How does a healer care for herself?”

Abiene’s mind leaped straight to Jerric. Find someone who loves you and don’t let them go, she thought.[/quote]

And the conversation with Thaurron was simply delightful- filled with kindness, and melancholy, and truths that we prefer not to examine too closely.

[quote]The man I wanted might finally turn toward me, she thought. But I’ve reached for the one who’s going to walk away.[/quote]

Ah. So much is conveyed in that seemingly simple statement.

[quote]“Uh, no. The gods will find me if they want something.”[/quote]

They have a way of doing that- yes.

[quote]The smile left her face. “People are always measuring me, checking to see if I’m doing anything wrong. Not everyone, but sometimes it’s too much. When you look at me, I know you just see who I am. I don’t have to guard myself with you, Jerric.”[/quote]

Sounds like a good basis for love.

[quote]He knew what she was asking. “I can’t hope for us and still do what I need to. I guess a better man could. I’d just keep wanting to take you away somewhere and keep you safe.” He brushed his thumb under her eye, gathering her tears. “There’s a lot for you to live for, Abiene. It’s going to get darker, but there’s still a way through it.”[/quote]

And again- the shadow that hangs over Jerric even when he is walking in the light of the Gold Coast.

Acadian: Thank you so much, Acadian! Hearing that the letter was pure Jerric is just music to my ears. That’s the very best I could hope for!

SubRosa: That “I wasn’t offering personally” line comes from Deadwood, and it’s pretty much the only thing said in that show that I can put in this forum. It seemed to suit Jerric perfectly. Glad it gave a chuckle. Thank you, SubRosa!

King Coin: You’re right, Jerric’s wish for Rilian is exactly what he would do himself if he could. He even has a letter from a good woman saying that she’s his. Thank you for pointing that out! It really means a lot.

McBadgere: Thank you, McB! It’s fun to put some giggles in there with the anxious moments.

mALX: Thank you, mALX! Jerric has never seemed so real to me as when he wrote that letter, crossed out parts and all.

treydog: Thank you so much for your comments! I am awed, humbled, and inspired. I’m sure you can tell the relationships are the most important part for me. Many of the quotes you highlighted were the reasons for their whole section, so you can imagine I did quite a lot of nodding and smiling while I read your comments. I truly appreciate the time you spend with this story!

Where we are: The Imperial City. Darnand and Lildereth are off pursuing their own interests. Jerric and Rilian spoke before the Elder Council, who named Savlian Matius Acting Steward of Kvatch until a new count can be chosen. Jerric and Rilian shared an evening of relaxation. We find Jerric seeking out Baurus.




Chapter 14: The Imperial City, Part Three


Jerric stepped out of the King and Queen Tavern into a mild, foggy night. Moisture makes the alleys more fragrant, he noted. Then he added his own layer to the mix, standing far enough away from the wall to avoid splashback. A few turns down the sparsely populated streets served to clear his head. If he was lucky enough to find Baurus tonight, he hoped to make a decent impression.

The ground floor of Luther Broad’s Boarding House contained a public room with dining tables and a long bar. A staircase rose along the wall behind it, and Jerric guessed there would be access to the cellar on the far side. A closed door near the foot of the stairs was the room’s only other exit.

Only a few folk occupied tables at this hour, and each of them seemed absorbed by whatever circumstance had them drinking alone at a low-rent tavern in this largely residential district. Jerric’s attention went to the man behind the bar.

An experienced barman would immediately mark Jerric as a brawler and glance either at his own hired muscle or toward whatever other patron he was already watching for signs of trouble. The man behind the bar at Luther Broad’s proved no exception. Jerric watched the publican size him up, then look briefly into the far corner. Jerric followed his glance as he walked toward the bar.

A gray-haired man sat reading at the small corner table. His stature suggested Imperial or Breton heritage. Jerric didn’t see a weapon. He decided not to use magic if events turned violent. Neither race would have native resistance to a beating. The man didn’t seem to notice Jerric.

The Redguard seated at the bar noticed him. He sat with his shoulders slumped, but tension radiated through his frame. Jerric looked for a katana, but this man carried a shorter, straight blade. It didn’t matter. His gut knew Baurus.

“Sit down,” Baurus said quietly before Jerric could speak. “Don’t say anything. I’m being watched.”

Jerric took a seat to Baurus’ right, leaving an empty stool between them. The barman swiped the counter with his rag and pushed a bowl of ironwood nuts at Jerric. “What’ll it be?”

For a moment Jerric thought he shouldn’t answer. Then he realized that he shouldn’t say anything to Baurus. Perhaps he ought to have spent more time pacing the streets before plunging back into his role as agent for the Blades.

“Mead,” Jerric said. He placed a five-Septim coin on the bar. “Surprise me.”

“Surprise you with mead?” said the barman, raising an eyebrow. “That’s a tall order. I’ve got a barrel in the back. Maybe it’ll do.” He stepped through the door without further comment.

“Listen,” Baurus said. “I’m going to get up in a minute and walk out of here. That guy in the corner will follow me. You follow him.”

“Got it,” said Jerric.

“Good,” Baurus said into his tankard. “I want to see what he’ll do.”

Baurus walked around and passed through the cellar door. The gray-haired man quickly rose to follow him. After a moment, Jerric followed the man.

The stairway led to a wide, well-lit landing before it turned to the left into shadow. Jerric closed the door silently behind him. He stepped down. Reddish light flared from around the corner, accompanied by the ripping sound of a daedric summoning. Jerric took the remaining stairs in a leap.

“For Lord Dago-argh!”

Jerric spun around the corner to find an armored man on his knees, one arm raised behind him at an uncomfortable looking angle. Baurus gripped the man’s wrist in his left hand. His sword was at the man’s throat. Sick fury surged up Jerric’s throat when he recognized the red robes and daedric armor.

“Paradise awaits me,” the man hissed, eyes showing white. Then he erupted into flames.

Jerric and Baurus fell back, coughing. “He burned from the inside out!” Jerric exclaimed. “How did he do that?”

“A scroll, maybe,” said Baurus. He prodded the remains with his toe as the fire died out. “You search the body. I’ll check upstairs in case any of his friends are nearby.” Baurus disappeared around the corner.

Jerric knelt, struggling with emotion. It was too late to kill this man again, no matter how much he wanted to. He cooled the body with frost before he tried to touch it. His squeamish search yielded three coins, a buckle, and a key.

“I’ll see if Luther knows where that key is from,” said Baurus, making Jerric jump. He hadn’t heard him return.

Jerric rose and stood slack-jawed for a moment. He didn’t know which question to ask first.

“Luther Broad,” Baurus explained patiently. “The man upstairs. Like it says on the sign. He’s a friend. Not one to trust completely, though, so guard your tongue.”

The sign doesn’t make my innkeepers a king and a queen, Jerric thought, but he decided not to argue. He took a closer look at the sticky key. “Say, that looks like…” He fished the key out of his own pocket and held the two in his palm. The bows of both keys were shaped like a crown. “This fatherless toad was staying across the street, I’d wager. At the King and Queen Tavern.”

Baurus grinned. “Good work. I am glad to see you, by the way. You just caught me at a bad time.”

“Yeah,” said Jerric, glancing down at the blackened bones. And they think I’m trouble.

“This one was alone,” Baurus said. “Let’s search his room. You go over first. I’ll follow.”

On the upper level of the King and Queen Tavern, Baurus tried the key until they found the cultist’s room. “Two doors down from me and Rilian,” Jerric mused. “Do you think he knew who I am?”

“Could be.” Baurus locked the door behind them. “Two fellows in Kvatch Guard livery visiting the Elder Council, it’s not hard to peg you as the Hero of Kvatch. Do you have anything with you that might tie you to Martin?”

Jerric blinked at him. “Uh, no. Oh wait. My Blades helmet.”

Baurus passed a hand across his eyes.

“No,” Jerric continued. “It’s with my gear at Equestria.”

“Thank Talos for that,” said Baurus. “I can’t think of any place safer. Look in the desk. Let’s see if we can at least identify this fetcher.”

Baurus moved to the cupboard. Jerric reached for the book sitting out on the desk. “Commentaries on the Mysterium Xarxes, Book One,” he read out loud.

That got Baurus’ attention. “Here’s our evidence,” he said. “We know the assassins who killed the Emperor were part of a daedric cult known as the Mythic Dawn. They worship the Daedra Lord Mehrunes Dagon. I’ve been tracking their agents here in the city. I guess they noticed.”

“Yeah, I recognized the conjured armor. These same mother humpers got the Amulet.”

“I heard.”

“Where’s their headquarters? They should have a shrine or something.”

Baurus gave him a patient look. “That’s what I’d like to know, Jerric. We are all anxious to pay them a visit.” He began to search the desk. “This is a secretive group, very difficult to track. I haven’t been able to collect any real evidence, until now. Those that I have tried to question all ended like… Astav Wirich.” He held up a letter.

“Uh,” said Jerric.

“We believe the Mythic Dawn think they have secured their victory by killing Martin at Kvatch and stealing the Amulet of Kings from Weynon Priory. Their next move is unclear. They seem to be focused on recruiting new members, in a very cautious manner. In my opinion it is only a matter of time before someone visits Kvatch to gloat and learns of Martin’s survival. When they connect you to Martin, they will use you to get to him. Anyone close to you will be at risk. But for now there is no reason to associate you with the Blades, even if you are recognized as the Hero of Kvatch.”

“And Brother Piner, and the others at the Priory? Even if they don’t figure out about me, they know the Amulet was there.”

“Their lives are at risk as well. I can see that you would protect them. You do not have that luxury. You must view them as fellow soldiers in this war. Even in monks’ robes that is what they are.”

“So when folk start attacking me, that will mean they figured it out. And they might go after my friends.”

“That is my belief. I suggest you put aside your Kvatch Wolf shield and surcoat. Without them you could be any blond Nord, with or without a scar on your brow, bearded or clean-shaven.”

Jerric had new respect for his Knight-Brother’s intelligence gathering. “Thanks, Baurus.” He shook his head regretfully. “I put a fire shield enchantment on my Blades helmet. I’d hate to go into the Deadlands without it.”

Baurus rubbed his hands over his face while his teeth made a small sound grinding together. “Are you telling me you have been wearing…” His hands made a twisting motion.

“Yeah,” Jerric said, abashed. “But most folk who have seen me in it are dead. Well, all but a few, and I trust them.”

Baurus fixed a glare on him. “You do not get to make that judgment. The Emperor could only have been betrayed by someone very close to him. It’s possible the person didn’t even know what they had done. Our man is safe in Cloud Ruler Temple, from everyone but us.” He bit the last word off with a grimace.

Jerric thought for a moment. “So maybe they already found me, and they’re hoping I’ll lead them to Martin?”

Baurus nodded. “The fortress is protected from anyone you might inadvertently lead there, though the enemy does not know that. The danger is that you might bring someone inside. Someone, as you said, that you trust.”

Jerric felt like a child unable to follow the adults’ conversation. “I guess I can’t trust anyone.”

Baurus nodded again. “Now you’re learning.”

Jerric opened the book and glanced over the first few lines. Greetings, novitiate, and know first a reassurance: Mankar Camoran was once like you, asleep, unwise, protonymic. We mortals leave the dreaming-sleeve of birth the same, unmantled save for the symbiosis with our mothers, thus to practice and thus to rapprochement…

He snapped the book closed with a groan. “Baurus, maybe you should take a look at this.”

Baurus shook his head after a moment’s reading. “There’s a scholar at the Arcane University. Tar-Meena’s her name. Supposed to be an expert on daedric cults. Why don’t you take this book to her, see what she makes of it.”

Jerric took the book back. “All right, I’ll head over in the morning.”

“I’ll keep running down my leads on the Mythic Dawn network. After you meet with Tar-Meena, come find me at Luther Broad’s. This might just be the break we need.”

“Baurus. I have a friend who might like to see this book.”

“The Breton or the Bosmer?”

Jerric blinked again. “Darnand. I’ve known him since before all this.”

Baurus gave him a direct look. “He cannot know about our friends in the north. And be aware that everything you tell him puts him in danger.”

Jerric felt sick again. “All right.”

Baurus gripped his shoulder. “May Talos guide you.” He turned back to the desk.

An interesting variation, to have a key on the body, and the book in his room. It makes much more sense than his carrying the bulky thing around with him.

But then Tar-Meena never has to go fetch volume two off a shelf, either. Phintias has volume three in his pocket, etc. Those are little things they could have done in the game, but didn't. Glad you did.

Does your Baurus really distrust everyone, or is it just that he considers everyone fallible?

I enjoyed Jerric’s insight to the bar. If anyone knows a bar, it’s Jerric.

For a second I thought the bartender was being sarcastic to Jerric about the mead.

Luther’s going to like the pile of ashy bones in his basement.

Damn, Jerric’s getting noticed by the cultists. I kind of figured that it would come to that, but I was enjoying his relative anonymity. I’m most worried about Abiene.

I agree that it was fun to see Jerric’s mastery of all things bars at work as he described Luther’s pub.

I love how you are working the spy stuff in here!

“Sit down,” Baurus said quietly before Jerric could speak. “Don’t say anything. I’m being watched.”
Jerric took a seat to Baurus’ right, leaving an empty stool between them. The barman swiped the counter with his rag and pushed a bowl of ironwood nuts at Jerric. “What’ll it be?”
For a moment Jerric thought he shouldn’t answer. Then he realized that he shouldn’t say anything to Baurus. Perhaps he ought to have spent more time pacing the streets before plunging back into his role as agent for the Blades.
The way this passage brings out the bolded part is wonderful – how very, very Jerric!

“No,” Jerric continued. “It’s with my gear at Equestria.”
“Thank Talos for that,” said Baurus. “I can’t think of any place safer.
Awww.

’Jerric felt like a child unable to follow the adults’ conversation. “I guess I can’t trust anyone.”
Your masterful portrayal of Baurus to this point so perfectly brought Jerric to this inevitable conclusion.

“Baurus. I have a friend who might like to see this book.”
“The Breton or the Bosmer?”
Jerric blinked again. “Darnand. I’ve known him since before all this.”
I loved this for a couple reasons. First, it showed the depth of Baurus' intelligence gathering – even concerning Jerric. Secondly, it showed how much Jerric relies on the judgment of his brainy Bretonic buddy.

Eeep! I agree with KC's concern about Abiene's safety. If the MD goes after Lildereth on the other hand, it will simply shorten their existence of course.

Nit? ’Only a few folk occupied tables at this hour, and each of them seemed absorbed by whatever circumstance had them drinking alone at a low-rent tavern in {this?} largely residential district.’

Well that was a quick and ugly disposal of the mythic dawn agent. Spontaneous combustion, what a way to go. When it comes to pure style, it sure beats the old cyanide capsule in the tooth!

I loved the irony of the assassin staying at the same inn as Jerric.

“The fortress is protected from anyone you might inadvertently lead there, though the enemy does not know that. The danger is that you might bring someone inside. Someone, as you said, that you trust.”
Brilliant reasoning here by Baurus. Someone has been on the inside all along, from the Emperor's assassination, to taking the amulet at Weynon. Of course Baurus would be paranoid. After all, they really are out to get him! Perhaps Darnand is really a plant? Or Abiene? The latter would be a very interesting twist.

I like Baurus... ...Verrah verrah cool... ...

Brilliant chapter...

*Feels nostalgic for Oblivion MQ...*... ...

Loved it...And yer story...



A laugh as ever... ...

Nice one!!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

I had to quote these lines for putting your own Awesome spin on this quest - and the second one just for Jerric being Jerric. - Awesome Write !!!

I just found this to be hilarious. You made me spill my drink all over my keyboard, but it was worth it.

And I love the way you portrayed Baurus. I find his in game portrayal to be lacking, you've made him seem much more interesting with his semi-paranoia. All of his talk about trust and what-not makes for an interesting read. Is there a plot twist on the horizon? I can't wait to find out.

Folks, thank you for your patience and encouragement as this story moves forward at a crawl!

ghastley: Baurus is definitely struggling with the Blades’ failure. He still doesn’t know who sold them out to the MD, and he’s had a lot of alone time to dwell on it. I see him as pretty close to a Talos fanatic himself. Glad you liked the change with the book. There will be more.

King Coin: I totally forgot about Luther’s reaction to the smoking bones! I guess the fellas should probably go back with a garbage bag and a shovel, or Baurus is going to lose his security deposit. Yep, Luther was saying that Jerric looked like a heavy drinker, and was unlikely to be surprised by anyone’s mead. Jerric is most worried about Abiene, too.

Acadian: Poor Jerric is just not a super-spy! I’m sure Lildereth would have tracked an agent back to the Dagon shrine by now. Someone should have asked her!! Thank you for spotting the nit, I fixed it. And thank you very much for allowing the Valley of Horses and its guardian imps to grace Jerric’s world!

SubRosa: Abiene as a MD agent would be quite a twist. Perhaps the charismatic Eugal Belette will win her over to the cause while she’s lonely in Chorrol. Lildereth might get some hard looks after Baurus’ remarks, though. I have actually thought of a way to present a sane cultist’s perspective, but I think it will have to be a someday and not in the story exercise.

McBadgere: Glad you liked Luther’s sense of humor. He’s not going to kiss up for tips.

mALX: Thank you, mALX! This quest needed a few tweaks.

TheBrume: Sorry about your keyboard! I have done that myself. I’m glad you like spymaster Baurus.


Where we are: The Imperial City. Jerric and Baurus discovered the first book of Mankar Camoran’s Commentaries. Now Jerric is off the AU to visit Tar-Meena. The Valley of Horses with its trained imps is Acadian’s wonderful creation, and appears with permission.



Chapter 14: The Imperial City, Part Four

The pitcher of water he drank the night before woke Jerric before he wanted to rise, but when he needed to. He left Rilian sleeping. If the Imperial City was anything like Kvatch, kahve carts would line the main street out of a residential district. He would break his fast on the move as he joined the Elven Gardens’ early risers on their walk to work.

The breakfast carts offered an impressive variety. Jerric’s mild hangover made him skip the sweets in favor of a spicy sausage baked into a roll, a slice of egg and ham pie, three small servings of strong kahve downed like shots of whiskey, and a wedge of sharp cheddar followed by an apple to clean his teeth. He brushed the crumbs from his doublet as he passed through the gate into the palace district. Today he wore his best clothing and only one belt knife. And of course the daggers concealed at his back and in his boot, and one more in his daypack with the book. He thought he would be best received by a mage scholar if he presented himself unarmed.

Jerric stood head and shoulders above most of his fellow pedestrians. Only the Imperial Watch guards standing elevated above the crowd would meet his curious gaze. He let his eyes wander over the elaborate monuments and plantings as he passed through Green Emperor Way. The White Gold Tower cast a cold shadow. He looked at its angle to determine which gate led to the Arboretum.

He knew at the top of the steps that he had guessed correctly. Statues of the eight Aedric Divines ringed a colonnade at the center. In the middle stood a stone Talos, the ninth Divine. Jerric’s feet stalled when he reached the cross-street. He stood before Kynareth and Akatosh. These two were positioned facing Talos like the others, but their heads were turned toward each other. Talos loomed at Jerric’s back.

Here in the city’s calmest district, tension coiled in Jerric’s gut. He could hear quiet conversations all around him. These folk were at leisure, and dressed to indicate they did not engage in physical work. Satins and velvets predominated even at this hour of the morning. Most of the accents were clipped Nibenean and Altmer, or the speakers’ best imitation. Jerric looked between Akatosh and Kynareth, wondering.

Eventually he decided that the statues were not going to speak. In light of his recent congress with daedric princes, perhaps that was for the best. He continued around toward the gate and walkway to the Arcane University.

When Jerric got outside the city walls and onto the bridge, his heart lifted. Sunlight spilled over the mountains and flooded the Valley of Horses. Lake Rumare reflected all the colors of the sky. Grazing horses dotted the valley, guarded by roving imps on patrol. He shaded his eyes until he found Flash, Kip, and Banner. He couldn’t see Ulfe, but even the thought of her brought a smile. The sun, wind, and height delighted him. Still Kyne’s child, he thought. How foolish to look for her in a statue.

Another massive stone wall encircled the Arcane University. The gates stood open. Jerric stepped through and paused to take in the sights.

The Arch-Mage’s Tower rose directly in front of him in the center of a raised, half-circle entry court. A great wall stretched out on either side, restricting access to the University grounds. Arches and columns decorated the facing surface. Jerric wondered what wards might be concealed there. He also wondered if he would be able to read them if he tried. Armored and hooded Imperial Legion Battlemages guarded the metal gates into the University. He decided that was a question to explore after he met with Tar-Meena.

Sunken gardens curved away on either side of the stairs, surrounding the entry court. Robed figures stood or sat in conversation among the plantings. Even in winter this area caught the morning sun. Jerric guessed that he would have some time to spend here while he waited for Tar-Meena. He approached the Imperial Legion Battlemage standing guard at the base of the steps.

“Greetings, citizen,” the man said as Jerric reached him.

“Good morning,” said Jerric. “I’m here to see one of the University mages. I don’t have an appointment.”

“Are you a Guild member?” asked the Battlemage.

“Yeah, but I’m still an Associate.”

The guard gestured toward the tower. “Go through that center door into the lobby of the Arch-Mage’s Tower. They’ll help you at the reception desk.”

“Thanks.”

“Good day, magister.”

“Uh, one more thing. How would I find someone who’s staying here in temporary quarters?”

“Ask at the reception desk.”

“Oh, right. And where’s the hostel? I’d like to find someone there, too.”

The Battlemage executed another crisp gesture. “Associate quarters run under the wall. You’ll find the entries there and there. Best check at reception to find your friend. The Ayleids didn’t build that warren with convenience in mind. Or comfort.”

“Thanks.” Jerric decided he would try to coax Darnand into staying at an inn rather than joining him in the underground hostel.

As Jerric crossed the gardens he noticed red banners bearing the Imperial dragon fluttering from the tower. The Mages Guild emblem was worked in stone on the plaza and in metal on the ornate gates. His mind searched for the significance, but it eluded him.

The lobby was circular, dimly lit, and humming with quiet activity. Display cases stood against the walls. Benches filled the middle, some occupied by mages. One long desk stood near the far wall with a counter behind it. Mages in Apprentice robes sat or stood at work between them. Some of them were writing, some were passing sheets of parchment, and one Altmer bent over a crystal ball wearing a conical hat and a vacant expression. Red velvet rope and polished wooden stanchions indicated whom to approach first.

The Bosmer seated at the end of the desk smiled at him. “May I help you?”

“I’m Jerric. Guild Associate.”

“I’m Apprentice Gwylen,” twinkled the Bosmer, as if she was sharing some delicious secret.

Brown eyes and dimples, thought Jerric. Nice. “Pleased to meet you. I need to see one of the University mages, and I’d like to leave messages for two friends who are staying here. I’ve never been here before. What should I do?”

“If you’re on official Guild business, you can have Vanildil use the crystal ball. No? Well, let’s start with the University mage. Whom do you need to see?”

“Tar-Meena. I don’t have an appointment.”

“Step down to Perien, and he’ll send a message to the Mystic Archives for you. Then you come back to me if there’s a line, or just ask Perien to direct your other messages if there’s no one else around. Oh! And don’t talk to Vanildil while she’s wearing her Cone of Silence.” Gwylen rolled her eyes.

“Right,” said Jerric, grinning. “Thanks, Gwylen.”

Perien had overheard Gwylen’s remarks. He sat with a blank stone in front of him and a stylus in his hand. A glance along the line showed that the other Apprentices were similarly equipped. Except for Vanildil. She sat with a stack of parchment and a charcoal pencil.

“Ready,” said Perien.

“Uh,” said Jerric.

The Breton gave Jerric a wink. “Just tell me your message, I’ll write it down, and it comes out at the Mystic Archives just like that.” He tipped his head to indicate the hassled-looking woman at the counter behind him. She had several stone tablets in front of her, each with a sheet of parchment lying on it. Words appeared on the pages as if written by invisible hands. As Jerric watched she snatched one up, rolled and tied it with string, sealed it with a stamp, scrawled a word beside the seal, then tossed it into a basket.

“Uh,” Jerric said again. “How does that work?”

“I’m not in Applied Magic,” the Breton told him. “But I do know how to write a message. My station is linked to the Mystic Archives. What’ll it be?”

Jerric thought for a moment. He had to convince a scholar to leave her books and come talk to a stranger. What had Baurus said about her? She’s one of the egg heads over at the University. That seemed like a rude thing to call an Argonian. He filed it away for future use.

“All right,” said Jerric. “Here’s the message. Dear Tar-Meena. I have a very rare book. Our mutual friend said you would like to see it. Will you meet with me? From Jerric. Uh, the Associate of the Mages Guild. Wait! Don’t put the ‘Uh.’”

No words appeared on the tablet as Perien wrote with the stylus. Jerric guessed that only Apprentices with good handwriting got this post. “There,” said Perien. “Someone is rolling up your message at the archives even as we speak. Are you going to wait for an answer? Tar-Meena is very good about prompt replies.”

“Yeah, and I have some more business.” Jerric glanced over to find two people waiting to speak with Gwylen. “I guess I’ll get back in line.”

Dispatching a message to Lildereth took only moments. He was told where he might find Darnand. The Associates’ hostel did not have a message service. Jerric debated his next action. There was a good chance he would find Darnand still asleep after a late night of being a mage, or even just now retiring. Then again, Tar-Meena’s reply might be that she could see him immediately, and he would hate to miss it.

A shimmer of magicka caught his eye. He walked over to investigate. Misty tendrils rose from a raised disc on the floor. Runes and arcane symbols glowed on its surface. As his mind formed the words “teleportation pad,” an elaborately gowned Altmer materialized before his startled eyes. She glared at Jerric for a moment before sweeping out one of the side doors. The air shimmered again, and this time an Imperial stepped down. He took in Jerric’s expression and smiled.

“Greetings! I am Raminus Polus, Consul for the Mages Guild.”

Jerric choked back a laugh while he considered the man’s meaning. A member of the Council of Mages? Gods help him. “I’m Jerric,” he managed. “Pleased to meet you.”

To Jerric’s surprise, Raminus seized his hand and shook it with both of his. “Jerric of Kvatch and Anvil! I have received your recommendation from Carahil. What a pleasure to meet you. Welcome to the Arcane University!”

“Thank you, uh…”

“Raminus, please.”

Jerric bit the inside of his cheek. His struggle did not go unnoticed.

“Go ahead,” sighed Raminus. “I do not know which is worse, when people laugh or when they do not.” The Imperial’s face shone with good humor.

Jerric composed himself. “Is that a family name?”

Raminus shook his head. “Alas, no. There was much about rearing a child that my parents did not anticipate; my name was only the beginning. I cannot imagine what they were thinking. Ah, Tar-Meena! How nice to see you. May I present our Associate battlemage, Jerric? Jerric, Master-Wizard Tar-Meena is the Keeper of the Mystic Archives.”

Jerric turned to find a slender, dark-scaled Argonian gazing up at him. Her nondescript blue robe was similar to Raminus.’ She wore an arrangement of short veils hanging from rings over her pale head spines. Jerric folded his hands in imitation of her Altmer-style greeting. “Pleased to meet you.”

Tar-Meena smiled. Her short snout and low jaw made the expression look quite human. “You must be the one I got the message about. How can I help you?”

“I will leave you to it,” Raminus announced, giving both of their upper arms a squeeze. He strode out one of the doors, nodding and greeting as he went. Jerric appreciated the good will, but he wondered if it represented a disconnection from current events. A visit to any necromancer lair might be enlightening to a member of the Mages Guild Council.

Jerric turned his attention back to Tar-Meena. “I found a book,” he said.

Excellent!!!...

Loves me Jerric does I... ...

This made me laugh...



Oh, I can just imagine it... ...

Another excellent chapter...

Nice one!!... ...

*Applauds heartily*...

I like Jerric's version of skipping breakfast. Calories don't count if you're standing up?

Excellent. As usual.


I like this ending. It's simple. I mean, what else is there to say?
I look forward to the next installment.

*




ROFL !!! Yeah, Jerric is def from ETN !!! ROFL !!!




Really effective lines! Also loved your description of Equestria !!




SPEW !!!

I absolutely LOVE what you did with the Arcane, that so reminded me of Harry Potter's first impression of Hogwarts ... er ... is Raminus ... Hagrid? Urk !!

AWESOME Write !!!

*

Jerric ate well while on the move. Lol.

Holy crap Jerric’s packin’ !

I like Jerric’s discomfort in the Arboretum. He’s out of his element there. He knows what to expect and what is expected of him in a bar, or at the docks. This is just weird with all these proper people everywhere.

Oh, I like the description of the hostel. No cozy quarters for the lowly associates.

Raminus has quite the personality.

I liked the ending. “I found a book.” No, REALLY? that’s Jerric!

When does he not? They'll have to pack his grave with sandwiches when he dies, lol.

Amazing!

I love this chapter, and I love your witty sense of humour; it makes this such a delight to read!

“I’m Apprentice Gwylen,” twinkled the Bosmer, as if she was sharing some delicious secret

This was brilliantly worded and strangely enticing!

I also love your characterization of dear Raminus. I don't thik Tara ever remember's him beeing that awesome and surprisingly hand shakey

Looking forward to more

When I saw you use the abbreviation of AU in your notes above, the first thing I thought was: gold. Wow, that was a blast from high school chemistry!

I love Jerric's idea of 'unarmed', as in four hidden daggers. It reminds me of the Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome, when Max was taking out all his weapons at the entrance of the city.

Eventually he decided that the statues were not going to speak. In light of his recent congress with daedric princes, perhaps that was for the best.
This was a delightful passage.

Still Kyne’s child, he thought. How foolish to look for her in a statue.
This was even better though. There is no better place to find divinity then in the world itself.

Wonderful description of the Arcane University. Especially the Cone of Silence! Where are Max and Agent 99? The stone tablet intercom system was a brilliant invention!

I am guessing that elegantly glaring Altmer was Caranya? So nice to see that Raminus was a much friendlier person. Teresa certainly liked him.

“I found a book,” he said.
And you are hoping someone will read it for you? I am sorry, I can just so easily imagine that reply. Especially if it was from Druja!

What a glorious breakfast! Yum, and just what I needed. Thank you!

’The White Gold Tower cast a cold shadow. He looked at its angle to determine which gate led to the Arboretum.’
A great way to navigate (and beautifully phrased) in the confusing wagon wheel of the IC. Then I loved Jerric's statuesque ponderings among the Nine in the Arboretum. Thank you for your beautiful rendering of the Valley of the Horses. It made me feel right at home!

What fun, the way you presented the University. The descriptions were just right and you gave a great feel for the bustle inside the lobby. And a wonderful communication system! Of course the University would have a hostel for visitors and I liked how you pointed that out. I enjoyed your interpretation of the good natured Raminus and elegant Tar-Meena as well. I quite like both NPCs and see them similarly.

Jerric is doing pretty good with this spy stuff! I hope Tar-Meena can help him with the book he carries.

I pretty much agree with everything here!

You write your story with such beautifully crafted sentences that it makes the whole thing a joy to read!

Well done!

McBadgere: I had to think of some way to work in a spy reference and a pointy hat. Thank you so much, McB!

ghastley: Jerric’s version of skipping breakfast is similar to the way carrying four blades is unarmed. He wanted more, of course. I drew the line at a mobile stack of pancakes.

TheBrume: Thanks. I always admire other peoples’ snappy endings, and it’s usually the last thing that comes to me before I post.

mALX: It’s so neat that you mentioned Harry’s arrival at Hogwarts. I had that same sense of wonder in mind. Thank you, mALX!

King Coin: You’re right, in the whole city full of people Jerric has the least interest in the leisure class, and that’s who was hanging around in the Arboretum. We might get a closer look at the hostel, if Darnand cooperates. Thank you, KC!

Tábrasa: Thank you! I see Raminus as the personable face of the Council. He sounds so happy in the game when he welcomes you, and he seems to have nothing to do but stand around the lobby and chat.

SubRosa: Yep, you spotted Get Smart and Caranya. I’m afraid if I tried to use a silly spy reference in the same episode as Baurus, I might get a katana through the screen. Jerric is such a physical creature, so it was nice to touch on spiritual matters for a change, even if only lightly. Thank you, SubRosa!

Acadian: I was so hungry when I wrote that breakfast! Thank you for your kind words about the University. Some of my favorite Buffy episodes have taken place there, and her experience has definitely shaped my vision of how it could be. The statues were a happy surprise, I had never tried to identify them in the game before. They fit Jerric’s situation perfectly.

Rihanae: Thank you, Rihanae! I’m glad you’re back.


Where we are: The lobby of the Arch-Mage’s Tower at the Arcane University. Tar-Meena has joined Jerric. He has informed her that he found a book. In other news (not to give away the ending of this story, but I’m pretty sure he’s going to live ) I have just outlined Book 2.




Chapter 14: The Imperial City, Part Five


“You found a book, you say,” said Tar-Meena.

Jerric handed it over.

“Ah, yesss,” she hissed, delight briefly overwhelming her precise diction. “Commentaries on the Mysterium Xarxes, wonderful. You have a scholarly interest in daedric cults, then?”

“In Dagon’s cult, yeah. I’d say it’s more of a practical interest.”

“The Mythic Dawn,” said Tar-Meena. “What do you know of them?”

“Let’s assume nothing.”

Tar-Meena gestured for them to seat themselves. Her voice took on a lecturing tone. “The Mythic Dawn is one of the most secretive of all of the daedric cults. Not much is known about them. They worship Mehrunes Dagon according to the teachings of their leader, Mankar Camoran. No one knows how widespread the cult is, or where their shrine to Mehrunes Dagon is located. Mankar Camoran is a shadowy figure in his own right. He is the author of this book you found. The Commentaries are contemporary with Tiber Septim, over four hundred years old. So he is unlikely to still be alive, although you never know. I’ve studied Mankar Camoran’s writings a bit myself, at least those that I could find. It is clear from the text that his Commentaries come in four volumes, but I have only ever seen the first two books.”

“All right,” said Jerric. He needed to get to the point, but he didn’t want Tar-Meena to leave anything out. “I need to find the Mythic Dawn’s stronghold,” he blurted, already wincing at his clumsiness.

The Argonian’s nostrils flared with interest. As she leaned forward her voice took on a conspiratorial tone. “Find them, eh? I won’t poke my nose any further. Official business and all that. I’m used to working with the Blades. Don’t worry, say no more.”

Jerric hoped that Tar-Meena would take her own advice. She was practically winking over the shared secret. He decided that if someone as paranoid as Baurus could trust her, then so could he.

“In any case, finding them won’t be easy,” Tar-Meena continued. “I believe that Camoran’s writings contain hidden clues to the location of the Mythic Dawn’s secret shrine. Those who unlock the hidden path have proven themselves worthy to join the ranks of the Mythic Dawn cult. Finding the shrine is the first test. If you want to find them, you’ll need all four volumes of the Commentaries.”

Excitement surged through Jerric. Finally, something he could do. “Where can I find the other three books?”

Tar-Meena leaned back, resting a thoughtful finger along her jaw. “The library has a copy of Book Two, as do several of my colleagues. As I said, I’ve never even seen the third and fourth volumes. You should try First Edition, over in the Market District. Phintias, the proprietor, caters to specialist collectors. He may have an idea of where to locate those books.”

Jerric did not intend to leave the Arcane University without their copy of Book Two, but he needed more time to think of a plan. “What’s the Mysterium Xarxes?” he asked.

“The holy book of the Mythic Dawn,” said Tar-Meena. Jerric recognized the glint in her eye. He supposed that an Argonian scholar was much like a Breton scholar, despite the spines, scales, and tail. “It was supposedly written by Mehrunes Dagon himself. If it exists, it would be an artifact of great – and evil – power.”

Jerric dried his hands on his trousers. “Tar-Meena. I need your copy of the second book.”

Tar-Meena held her palm up in objection. “Perhaps I could give you temporary access to the Archives, but—”

“Wait,” Jerric interrupted. “Hear me out. You know Baurus, right? I mean, he must have been the one who sent you the message about me.”

“Yesss,” the Argonian said warily.

“Does he seem like a fellow who gives up or one who gets things done? You have to believe that he’ll find the other books or die trying. You know what this is about, right?”

Tar-Meena slowly nodded.

“You can have the books when we’re done with them. All four volumes.” Jerric held his breath.

The Argonian’s eyes narrowed to slits. Jerric glanced away to give her a moment of private thought. He saw one of the doors open, and the light from outside silhouetted a slight figure accompanied by a giant dog. His eyes adjusted when the door closed behind them. Lildereth and Ulfe!

“You may have the library’s copy of Book Two,” said Tar-Meena, regaining his attention. Jerric’s heart leaped again. “Treat it gently, if you please. I will retrieve it now, if you will wait.”

Jerric jumped to his feet. “Thank you,” he gasped, seizing her clawed hands to squeeze them. “Thank you. I will. Treat it gently. And I’ll wait.” He realized that he was looming over the archivist so he stepped back, nearly tripping over a bench. “You won’t be sorry.” He grinned across at Lildereth. “I see the friend I was looking for. Maybe she’ll wait with me.”

Tar-Meena followed his glance. The corners of her narrow lips curled up in a smile. “Lildereth,” she called. “A timely meeting. I suppose even a wolf familiar needs the occasional walk outside.”

Ulfe leaped over the bench and offered Jerric a joyful greeting. He grabbed her head to prevent the “conjured familiar” from rooting enthusiastically in his crotch.

Tar-Meena took her leave. Lildereth stood in her place, looking completely at ease among the mages. She wore the green dress that hugged her top. Jerric recalled that under the full skirt, her bottom was also nicely round. Her hair was smoothly contained in some feminine arrangement. Jerric tugged at his trousers. He should probably have indulged himself at the brothel instead of just waiting for Rilian.

“A wolf?” he said. “You have got to be jesting.”

Lildereth gave him a crooked smile. “You should see the atronachs and dremora wandering around in there. Tar-Meena is just relieved that Ulfe can’t set fire to her books.”

Jerric bent down to scratch Ulfe’s chest and give her a kiss. She slapped him with far too much tongue for his liking. “Ugh! Ulfe! Honestly, how do you get away with these things, Lildereth? There’s no such thing as a yellow wolf.”

“Look around you,” said Lildereth. “Who else would know?”

Jerric straightened and looked her over again. “It’s good to see you, elf.”

“I got your message,” Lildereth told him. “And of course I was listening to what Tar-Meena said. I’ll wait with you. Let’s go into the public side of the garden.” She took his arm. “See, I’m making you look civilized. Now the mages won’t think that you’re an ogre thrall.”

“Wait, what if…” Jerric glanced worriedly back toward the door.

Lildereth gave him one of her angled brow looks. “You’re a Nord with a tan, and I’m a wood elf. I think the Master-Wizard will deduce that we stepped outside.”

There were several empty stone benches in the garden. Lildereth ignored them in favor of a patch of angled sun under a tree. She tucked her skirt neatly while Jerric and Ulfe lolled and sprawled.

“So you’ve been in the archives?” Jerric asked her. “I guess that’s a different kind of hunting.”

“It is,” said Lildereth. “It’s the same thing you’ve heard me asking folk. Strange creatures, unusual monsters, where and when they’ve been encountered.” She must have seen Jerric’s questions bubbling up. She changed the subject. “What are you here hunting for?”

Nice try, thought Jerric. I can do that, too. “You know I’m no hunter,” he said, looking up at the sky. “But I used to work with an archer who took me hunting sometimes. Mostly to carry the kills and warm the bedroll. Also to make the kahve, I suspect. Hers was dreadful.” Jerric glanced back over at Lildereth. She seemed thoughtful, and wary.

“Bosmer?” Lildereth asked.

“Dunmer. I’ve never, uh, gone hunting with a wood elf before.”

Lildereth laughed. “Well I’ve never ridden a snow bear, and I don’t plan to. If I ever take you hunting, bring your own bedroll. Mine is plenty warm for me.”

“Yeah,” Jerric grinned. “Wait ’til we get to Bruma. If you decide you want to go that far.”

“We’ll see. I’ll still let you make the kahve, though.” Lildereth smoothed her skirt. “I’m also here seeking training from a Master Illusionist. Martina Floria. She’s asked me to supply her with ten Welkynd stones before she will consider me as a student.” She frowned down at her hands.

“What’s the problem, sprig? You could turn my trousers inside out while I’m wearing them, and I wouldn’t even notice. I’d think you could sneak in somewhere and pick up ten Welkynd stones.”

“Probably. I know several accessible Ayleid ruins where folk will have left stones up in the brackets recharging. But it’s usually conjurers or necromancers who need that kind of power, and they leave their undead and daedra thralls hanging around to guard their stash. Most of my spells don’t work on them. That’s why I need master training. In the last few years a lot of those fetchers have taken their work underground, and moved into the ruins. They use life detection enchantments to keep track of their slaves while they’re home.” She gave her head a quick shake, as if dislodging a bug. “Of course I can do it. I just don’t like the risk.”

“I could watch your back. Stay low unless you called for me. Like in Howling Cave.”

Lildereth burst out laughing. “That was staying low? You blew up the alchemy lab!”

“Well,” said Jerric, “that was my scamp.”

Tar-Meena approached with a book in her hands. Jerric and Lildereth stood up to meet her. Ulfe stayed politely down, her tail thumping the grass.

“Here you go,” Tar-Meena said, handing the volume to Jerric. “It was so nice chatting with you. Be sure to let me know how your hunt for the Mythic Dawn turns out.” She exchanged nods with Lildereth before she turned away.

Jerric stared at Tar-Meena as she walked back toward the tower, her tail swaying with each graceful step. If that was her idea of discretion, Baurus was right to worry. At least he could be more honest with Lildereth now.

Lildereth’s face had turned to ivory. Her eyes gave her the look of a startled deer. “Jerric,” she said. “What the fetch?”

Sixteen hells, thought Jerric. She might not like this. “Uh, yeah. I’m going to, uh, go kill the Mythic Dawn. As soon as I can find them.”

Lildereth seized his arm. Her mouth opened and closed before sounds came out. “What?”

Don’t mention Martin, Jerric told himself. Or the Amulet of Kings. Or Baurus or the Blades. “Well, you’ve heard me talking to Darnand. I’m not just going to wait for them to open more Gates. I’m going to find their shrine, kill them all, and burn it to the ground.” Jerric realized that the last had emerged as a growl. He loosened his death grip on Book Two and tucked it into his daypack. “Want to go get some lunch?”





.

Your rendition of Tar-Meena had me in hysterics throughout the chapter !!!

And the laughter stopped here:



Very powerful ending to that chapter. Ominous. Jerric's attempts to make light of it by suggesting food was very Jerric. This whole paragraph spoke volumes about who Jerric is, of what he is capable of, and of the power that resides within him. Totally Awesome Write !!!

The fact that Lildereth just accepts that Jerric could do that speaks even more! Especially as she knows he's not going to sneak in and pick them off one at a time.

I never even thought of that aspect of it, but you are right. Now THAT makes me wonder if she'll think she'd better go with him and help. Urk!

Tar-Meena is such a delightful character!

Jerric isn’t a total idiot! He just secured the second volume of the commentaries!

“You’re a Nord with a tan, and I’m a wood elf. I think the Master-Wizard will deduce that we stepped outside.”


Remembering Jerric’s scamp in howling cave brought a smile to my face. I guess even someone as accomplished as Lildereth isn’t considered above running errands. Lazy mages.

“Want to go get some lunch?”

He supposed that an Argonian scholar was much like a Breton scholar, despite the spines, scales, and tail.
This was a delightful reference to Darnand.

Lildereth and Ulfe!
Thank goodness it was not Clavicus Vile and Barbas!

Jerric deflected Lildreth's question about what he was hunting for quite nicely.

and they leave their undead and daedra thralls hanging around to guard their stash.
Do I detect a bit of Skyrim world-building? Seriously though, one thing I like about the new game is that you can summon critters permanently.

“That was staying low? You blew up the alchemy lab!”
Why can I hear Han Solo saying: "It's not my fault!" Or Lando Calrissian?

“Want to go get some lunch?”
Oh yeah, sure. Now that was the perfect ending!

So Jerric got his book, and hooked up with Lil once more. Now it is off to see Phintias, the rudest Redguard in Cyrodiil.

So is Book 2 when Darnand finally throws off his disguise of a mild-mannered magician, and reveals himself to be Mannimarco himself? Naturally a reign of terror would ensue. Or perhaps it is Abiene who turns out to be the Dread Lady of the Dead - Womannimarco - herself?



nits:
I’ve studied Mankar Cameron’s
Is he a relative of James Cameron? or Cameron Diaz? I am sure you meant Camoran.

Firstly, I’m so pleased to hear that there is a book 2 in the works!

You did a wonderful job with Tar-Meena here! She really came alive in a short time. It was so nice to see Lildereth join them and I loved how naturally she fit into the Arcane University. I can surely identify with her less-traveled path as a mystic archer.

“What’s the problem, sprig? You could turn my trousers inside out while I’m wearing them, and I wouldn’t even notice. I’d think you could sneak in somewhere and pick up ten Welkynd stones.”
This was fabulous for a ton of reasons. Every word!

So in Jerric's world, Welkynd stones can be recharged in their stands. Neat, and very useful for our Nordic atronach, I'm sure.

A powerful ending, perfectly balanced and spiced with the promise of chow!


Nits:
“Ah, yesss,” she hissed, delight briefly overwhelming her precise diction. Commentaries on the Mysterium Xarxes, wonderful. You have a scholarly interest in daedric cults, then?”
Here, you're missing the quotation mark to open Tar-Meena’s second passage of dialogue.

‘Mankar Camoran is shadowy figure in his own right.’
I suspect you want to insert an ‘a’ before shadowy?

YAY!!... ...

Love it...I love Tar-Meena, I loved the idea that she thought the dog was conjured.

I love the dog...Awww bless her... ...

The whole thing is so excellently done it's amazing...

Biggest laugh you ask?



Talk about saving the best till last... ...

Oh-ho-ho yes!!... ...

Nice one!...

*Applauds heartily*...

Still terribly behind with the story- but also still loving it all. Had thought to do all of Chapter 11, but found a place to pause instead.

Chapter 10, 18

Realized I missed some of the best parts previously. So want to get to those first.

[quote]“If you think of something, I know you’ll do it.” I wonder when the message will come from Martin, he thought. Each time I hold her could be the last.

Abiene lifted her head to look at him again. “What do you see in your dreams?”

“Fire. Teeth and claws. A daedroth kills me, I think. It’s always the same.” Fresh tears slipped down her cheeks. He felt relieved that they had stopped pretending it would somehow be all right. Better to face this now together than later when she’s alone, he decided. “Don’t worry, I’ll go out fighting.”[/quote]

A long quote but necessary to get the full flavor of how incredible the writing is.

And then, with perfect timing you have Abiene break the somber mood with an unfortunate knee. Simply brilliant- and painful.

[quote]Jerric sighed and looked up at the hut’s exposed rafters. “I know this is only temporary. But we could stand a bigger bed.”[/quote]

Exhibit 153 on how to end a chapter perfectly.

Chapter 11, 1

[quote]“Darnand, are you telling me you spent that whole time looking at her hair?”[/quote]

That so perfectly captures Darnand- and Jerric.

[quote]"She likes me, at least. I guess that makes her pretty enough.” Jerric realized he had just summed up his general approach with women.[/quote]

And I am not sure that is such a poor basis for a relationship....

[quote]“No, it’s County Anvil’s problem. The Legion won’t do anything without the right parchment from the castle, and no one who knows what’s going on up at the fort is alive to fill out the reports. Anvil Militia is busy patrolling for daedra and tending their winter crops, they’re not going to go looking for trouble in a ruin. And it’s way too far for the City Guard. It’s actually a pretty good spot to hole up, if you’re outside the law.” Dammit, Jerric thought. That was probably a little too much truth.[/quote]

There is a LOT going on in that short space- practical workings of the Empire- and Jerric's sudden realization that he seems to know quite a bit about how to operate as a marauder.

The discussion of how animated skeletons work was fascinating.

[quote]“I am afraid this discussion requires far more time than the afternoon allows. I suggest we postpone it. For now, I have business with my horse.”

Jerric blinked, surprised by Darnand’s candor. Then he realized they were standing outside Horse Whisperer Stables. “You have a horse?”

Darnand raised an eyebrow. “Indeed.”

“Why didn’t we ride to Whitmond?”

Astonishment flooded Darnand’s face. “You invited me to walk to Whitmond with you.”[/quote]

That whole part- from Jerric’s misapprehension of a euphemism, to Darnand’s literalness, was a treat.

11, 2

[quote]He thought that if he reached out and tweaked her adorable little nose the way he would like to, he would probably draw back a stump.[/quote]

It would appear likely- yes.

[quote]“Lildereth.” Her voice made him think of clear water.[/quote]

And of course, Lildereth is an absolute treasure.

[quote]Jerric’s mind went to the lava tunnels he had passed through in the Deadlands. “I’m not so great underground,” he admitted. He hoped he didn’t look as uncomfortable as he felt. “I get lost sometimes. I can find my way back once I come across something I’ve killed, though. I just need landmarks.”[/quote]

That seems familiar to most of my characters as well- “Let’s see, left branching tunnel, dead draugr, ramp going up, dead cave bear….”

[quote]“She?” Darnand and Jerric both asked. They shared a skeptical glance.

“Yes, she. Why not? Must you humans assume that all dangerous creatures are male? Besides, I can tell from her pelvis that she was once a woman.”

“Oh,” said Darnand. His expression said the rest.

“Ugh,” Jerric agreed. He decided he didn’t want to know any more about that subject.[/quote]

Funny how someone who deals in death can be squeamish about some things. But- that is so perfectly who Jerric is.

[quote]This isn’t your Running Wolf team, he reminded himself. Working together doesn’t make you friends. After the job, you may never see this elf again. Forget about what might make her look sad.[/quote]

He can try. But I do not think "forgetting" is one of Jerric's skills.

11,3

[quote]Lildereth turned inland before he even wanted a snack.[/quote]

Got to love Jerric’s “stomach clock.”

[quote]“How did I sound back there?” he asked Lildereth.

“Like a pack of blind snow bears.” Her tone relayed her disgust.

“I’m not wearing real armor,” Jerric objected. He thought he had sounded rather stealthy.

“Your shield is metal,” she told him. “So are your hilts and buckles. When one meets another, it makes a noise. When you slide your feet, you make the sound of a deer carcass being dragged over dry leaves.[/quote]

Oh yes- she is definitely a treasure.

[quote]He decided that Lildereth appeared calm and alert. Darnand seemed excited and a little nervous. Jerric tested his own emotional state. He felt slightly worried. He hoped the zombie smell wouldn’t make him vomit in front of Lildereth.

He noticed she was giving him a sharp look. “I know it was your idea to follow me, Nord,” she said crisply. “Don’t do it again.”[/quote]

A treasure complete with pitfalls and tripwires.

[quote]That big blade of yours looks expensive, Jerric. Let’s try not to leave it here on the floor for the next fetchers.”

That’s the first time she’s called me by my name, Jerric realized. He grinned at her. “I’m not worried. I know you won’t leave my sword lying here in the dark.”[/quote]

That made me smile- and probably Lildereth, too.

11,4

“[quote]You don’t need to be fast unless you’re noisy. Then we’ll all have to be fast.”

“Right,” Jerric said. He grinned at her and slapped himself on the stomach. “Maybe you could show me where I should stay tight one more time."[/quote]

He is so adorably incorrigible.

[quote]Industrious and revolting sounds began to drift from Darnand’s direction. “All things considered, I prefer to harvest energy from zombies,” Darnand remarked.[/quote]

Urk.

[quote]His ring showed him the glows of three living things in the chamber ahead. Not for long, he thought grimly. He slipped the ring back into his pocket. His fingers twitched, waiting for him to fill them with frost.[/quote]

One day, I want to be able to write like THAT!

11,5

[quote]“But I’ll still speak the plain truth, the way I see it. I find it saves a lot of time and misunderstanding.”

She continued through the doorway. “I expect it also saves her from numerous social obligations and encumbering friendships,” Darnand remarked softly.

“I guess when you’re that size, you better scare them stickless right away," said Jerric. "She can always be nice later.”[/quote]

The fights are wonderfully described, especially given all that is going on around Jerric.

[quote]Jerric remembered Lildereth’s face when she had drawn one of the skeletons away from him. She had acted decisively despite her fear. He wished he had the words to tell her. “Yeah,” he said.[/quote]

Simply beautiful.

[quote]"That’s funny. The white-gold tower of death and destruction, talking about fluffy biscuits.”[/quote]

Got to love that she gives the banter right back to him.

Lildereth just adds so many dimension to the story- and to the other characters. Wonderful.

mALX: Thank you, mALX! I had fun mixing and matching Tar-Meena’s lines from the game. She makes me smile. What you said about that last paragraph means a great deal to me. Thank you for that!!

ghastley: I’m glad you pointed that out, ghastley. She also noticed that he didn’t include his own safe return as part of the plan.

King Coin: Yep, as soon as Jerric related Tar-Meena to Darnand, he knew what to say. Volume 2, check! Now let’s see how he does with Phintias. Thank you, KC!

SubRosa: Thank you, SubRosa! There will definitely be more flavors of Skyrim. I was also pleased to find out that Illusion spells have limitations on daedra and undead in Skyrim, the way I thought they did in Oblivion. Though we’ll keep Oblivion’s spell crafting, or Darnand would go on strike. Now I have an image of Darnand surging out of the phone booth with a big death’s-head on his chest instead of an S. Thanks for finding the nit, that name drives me crazy.

Acadian: Thank you, Acadian! I can never bring myself to use Welkynd stones in the game, knowing that they will be destroyed forever. It was fun to write Lildereth at the University, I wasn’t quite sure how it was going to work out until I started writing. I knew better than to suggest a mage’s robe, though! That line of Jerric’s that you picked out was my favorite in this episode. I’m so glad you drew attention to it. Thank you for finding those nits, I fixed them.

McBadgere: Thank you, McB! It’s so fun to have a huge, shaggy dog ambling around. And also Ulfe.

treydog: Oh my gosh, thank you treydog. Your comments are tremendously inspiring and so very appreciated. I am still quite insecure about my own attempts at plot, and you have picked up the threads of what I’m trying to do with my part of the story. That means so much.



Where we are: We left Jerric, Lildereth, and Ulfe in the garden at the Arcane University. Jerric has gotten the second book from Tar-Meena, who remarked on his plan to find the Mythic Dawn in front of Lildereth. The elf seemed concerned. Jerric suggested lunch. A quick reminder: Running Wolf Postal and Freight is Jerric’s family’s caravan and courier business. Ongve is one of the partners. He operates out of Anvil.



Chapter 14: The Imperial City, Part Six


Lildereth declined Jerric’s lunch offer, making rather much of the fact that Magnus had not yet reached its mid-morning height. She countered with an invitation to join her and Darnand for dinner. Jerric was happy to accept. As he crossed the bridge from the university to the city proper, he cast his eyes regretfully over the valley. Today’s work was inside the walls, not out under the sun.

By the time he reached the Market District’s open gates, mid-day traffic filled the streets. Food, drink, and household consumables were sold at stands clustered in the centers of the squares, while the surrounding shops offered more durable goods. The jostling crowd was a vivid patchwork of mortals. Every language of Tamriel filled the air. Jerric could pick out spices, sweat, perfumes, roast meat, and hair oil from the confusion of scents. He put one hand on his coin purse and the other on his belt knife before he shouldered into the press.

The First Edition stood near the gate. Its dimly lit interior welcomed Jerric with candlelight and quiet. Tall cases filled with books stood along every wall, some secured by glass doors. The long sales counter held fine writing implements and beautifully bound editions, all reflected in the gleaming countertop. The smell brought Jerric back to Twice Sold Tales in Kvatch. All that was missing was kahve and the smiling, bookish girls who served it. He stood on the thick carpeting for a moment while his eyes adjusted.

The Redguard behind the counter looked as elegant as his shop. However, his expression was not so agreeable.

“Phintias?” Jerric asked, stepping over to him.

“Owner and proprietor of The First Edition,” the man sniffed. His accent was educated Nibenean. “Look around. If I don’t have it, maybe I can get it.”

“I’m Jerric. Pleased to meet you. Uh, I’m looking for the Mysterium Xarxes.”

“You must be referring to Mankar Camoran’s Commentaries on the Mysterium Xarxes,” Phintias sneered. “A common mistake. It comes in four volumes. The first two volumes are rare, but you may run across them from time to time. The third and fourth are impossible to find.”

Jerric had no argument with being called common. It was the tone that set him on edge. “I need volumes three and four.”

“Oooh, I’m so sorry,” said Phintias, in a clear imitation of Jerric’s Gold Coast drawl. “I don’t have them. What a shame.”

That sleeping Altmer in Fort Strand might just have been my first murder, thought Jerric. I wouldn’t mind seeing this man’s blood. “What are the chances of finding them?”

“The chances are good that I could find one copy. However I happen to have a special order for Volume Three already. I’m afraid it is already paid for by another customer. Sorry. Gwinas would be terribly disappointed if I sold you the first copy I found. So sorry I can’t help you.”

Jerric ground his teeth. “Gwinas?”

“I don’t know him personally. But he was very eager to get his hands on Volume Three of Camoran’s Commentaries. He plans to come all the way from Valenwood to pick it up! A dedicated scholar, I am sure.”

Valenwood, thought Jerric, ignoring Phintias’ withering look. I’ll have a chance to get back here first. “Let me talk to this Gwinas before you sell him the book.”

“I have already sold him the book,” said Phintias. “It’s a special order. That’s how it works.”

“Special order it for me too, then. Send us both a message when you find it, I’ll give you the address. Hold on to the book and let me and Gwinas work it out when we get here. You keep the money. That way you can sell the same book twice.”

Phintias gave him a look of equal parts avarice and disdain. Then he quoted a figure that made Jerric’s knees weak.

“Throw in some erotica and we have a deal,” said Jerric, counting out the coins. “Indecent but not too disgusting.”

“No refunds,” Phintias said in parting. “Have a nice day, now.”

Jerric left the shop with a nearly empty coin purse and an illustrated book of Dunmeri love sonnets tucked into his bag. He hoped that Darnand wouldn’t spend too much on his enchanting, or they would have to stay in the Imperial City to work.

Rohssan at A Fighting Chance was far too busy with customers to spend time training. Jerric made an appointment to return with his gear in the morning. He headed for the Elven Gardens District.

Chapel bells told Jerric that the lunch hour had passed, but Luther Broad’s was still doing a brisk business when he entered. Jerric took a seat at the bar.

Luther swiped the already clean counter and flipped the towel back over his shoulder. His eyebrows asked the question.

“Ale,” said Jerric, regretting his reduced budget. He watched the other patrons while Luther moved around behind the bar. There were folk eating lunch and talking in murmurs at most of the tables, but the main event was at the end of the counter, presided over by an Argonian woman of indeterminable age. There a line of folk stood waiting to trade empty baskets and coins for filled ones. Jerric guessed that each basket lunch must include at least one bottle from the way folk were carrying them.

Luther placed a pitcher of ale in front of Jerric before he could speculate further. He balanced a parcel wrapped in a large napkin over the top, then he slapped a key onto the bar and slid it over. “You’ll find mugs in your room. Last door on the left, if you’ve forgotten.” His steady gaze did not invite questions.

Jerric paid the man and climbed to his feet, trying to keep confusion off his face. By the time he reached the second level, he decided that Baurus must have left instructions for Luther. A moment’s balancing let him unlock the door. It opened with a leathery thwap.

A length of rigid strap had been fixed across the door frame on the inside to make a noise when it opened. Jerric shook his head. Definitely Baurus’ room. He looked around uneasily, in case there was a trap that might explode.

The room was more spacious than his chamber at the King and Queen Tavern, but less homey. A linen press and arming rack filled one wall, and a large bed stood under the windows. The far corner held a round table and two chairs. A small desk also served as a night stand. Jerric’s eyes were drawn to an odd contraption attached to the window.

A selection of cutlery dangled near the floor, held together by very fine wire. No doubt it would jingle if the window was drawn outward. Jerric thought of the nights to come, camping out with his friends in open country. He decided that such precautions could not be considered excessive once you learned that someone wanted you dead.

Jerric made himself comfortable at the table. First he filled one of the mugs with ale. Then he unwrapped the fragrant parcel.

A wide, flat loaf of bread had been sliced in half lengthwise and filled with slices of ham, cheese, and spicy sausage. Vinegar and oil moistened the bread. Fresh herbs, chopped olives, and roasted red peppers made a colorful layer. Brown mustard and onion chutney rounded out the flavors.

Jerric bit into the sandwich, asking a blessing on Luther from every Divine that came to mind. Then he added one from Sanguine when he took a gulp of the ale. So far waiting for Baurus was not much of a chore.

Halfway through the pitcher and sandwich, Jerric wiped his fingers and opened his daypack. It seemed rude to fully appreciate provocative drawings in another man’s bed chamber, so he got out the two volumes of the Commentaries.

Jerric woke up to find Baurus seated across from him at the table, eating the rest of his sandwich. “I should have put it on your tab,” Jerric said. He poured Baurus a mug of warm ale.

Baurus nodded at the books, chewing.

Jerric wiped sleep drool off his cheek and told the day’s tale while Baurus paged through them.

“You’ve done well,” Baurus said when he had finished. He had the grace not to sound surprised. “You hang onto the first two volumes. Get your Breton friend to look over them, if you like. This reads like nonsense to me.” He closed the book. “I’ll stay here and keep running down leads on the Mythic Dawn. You follow your plan with the Mages Guild. Search for the third and fourth volumes in every city you pass through. I’ll cover Skingrad and Anvil. I know Phintias by reputation. He may be an arrogant son of a dog, but he’s no crook. I believe he’ll send the message if he finds the third or fourth volumes.”

Jerric tucked the books away. “I’m going to use Simeon at Running Wolf as a contact. He’ll send on any messages.”

“How well do you know this man?”

“I got arrested before I could meet him. He’s one of the partners, though, so he goes back with Ongve and my Da all the way to Skyrim. That’s about all I know. They shed blood for each other, so I’m sure he’ll forward a letter for his dead friend’s only living son.” Jerric was more than willing to beat the hell out of Baurus if he questioned his judgment one more time. His knuckles cracked when he flexed his hands.

Baurus folded the napkin around the crumbs. His face was somber and intent. “Keep your faith, Jerric. This struggle has only begun. We will restore the Dragon to his throne. It is the sworn duty of all Blades.”

Jerric took that as a dismissal. He rose and clasped his Knight Brother’s arm. “Talos guide you.”

Out on the street the fading light told him that the dinner hour had arrived. His stomach confirmed it. It was too late to walk all the way to the Running Wolf office at the waterfront and still meet Lildereth and Darnand. Jerric turned his steps toward the Arena District.




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It's good to know that everyone finds them such exciting reading! But in the game, they're skill books, which would get some attention from the reader, even if the content is dull. Does your reality leave that concept out?

I really liked the way you develop the characters of Baurus and Phintias here. Those details say a lot about them.

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I didn’t get this line, trying to see if I missed something and couldn’t find an Altmer. Where am I going wrong?

Love the Skooma dealing Argonian woman in Luther’s, lol.



ROFL !!! Jerric’s mind: Food çè Sex

As always, and AWESOME Write !!!!!!

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I think everyone hates Phintias. He’s an ***.

Throw in some erotica and we have a deal


I liked Baurus’ room. Only a Blade would be that paranoid. That’s probably how he’s stayed alive though, digging into the cultists background. There you go, it’s not paranoia, it’s precaution.

…so he got out the two volumes of the Commentaries.

Jerric woke up…
I really liked this! It’s only natural to get out a book when you plan on taking a nap.
I kind of wonder what Darnand will think of them. I’m sure he’ll at least stay awake. Can’t say much more than that though!

What a wonderful opening that set the tone for this delightful episode! Jerric laments his work today will be inside the walls instead of rolloping down in the horse poo in the Valley of the Horses. And you paint us a fantastic picture of the sights, sounds and smells of the marketplace as he made his way to the First Edition.

Twice Sold Tails Tales! What a wonderful name for the bookstore in Kvatch!

I did remember Jerric’s first murder (the sleeping Altmer) from one of the trio’s dungeon crawls, but mALX is right that the reference might be asking a bit to remember. Perhaps simply mentioning the dungeon in which it occurred would do the trick?

’Jerric left the shop with a nearly empty coin purse’
Buffy surely knows that feeling!

’Luther swiped the already clean counter and flipped the towel back over his shoulder. His eyebrows asked the question.’
Another beautiful example of your magical ability to cleverly paint an amusing picture in so few well-chosen words.

And Baurus’ room with visitor alarms – how very very Baurus!

Your description of that sandwich had me drooling! Just the thing before Jerric’s book-induced nap.

And Jerric wraps up his day just in time for dinner!

Nit? ’Phintias gave him a look of equal parts avarice and distain. Then he quoted a figure that made Jerric’s knees weak.’
Although ‘distain’ is an ancient verb, its meaning (to sully or stain) is probably not what you meant. I suspect you want ‘disdain’ here.

Urk! Now that you pointed out where it was from I do remember it, but didn't get the connection on the read - that was a LONG time ago, def required some reference for my pea brain, lol. Sorry about that !!!