Lildereth remains a mystery, as she should. I find her one of the most fascinating characters out there.

Darnand with a bard's cut? I'm trying to picture that!

Jerric is his usual male boisterous self. I loved this description of his morning ritual:
That about sums the man up!

Ulfe is her usual charming doggy self. I could smell her all the way here! Yikes! She needs to be aired out along with the tent and Jerric's bedroll when they get to Chorrol, if you ask me!

*

Ulfe's antics were perfectly written to bring visuals to anyone who has ever had a dog - including the "after rolling in dead animal" extra loving they always want to "share" with their special people - LOVED that part !!

Darnand's idea of how to give a detailed confession and Jerric's inner vision of shaking details out of him had me rolling!

Now I hope Darnand's special someone wasn't Abiene, ROFL !!! AWESOME WRITE !!!!


*

Loved the opening, Jerric stumbling out of his tent and just yelling Breton!

No elf? Glad she’s planning on joining them in Chorrol at least. What’s she up to though? Wouldn’t surprise me if she just wanted some time away from those two.

Ulfe is a delightful dog, but I’m glad I’m nowhere near her. Jerric’s pranks are always a fun read, but I really liked learning a little more about Darnand. Darnand? Uncivil? I bet ‘uncivil’ is putting it lightly. He seems to be under some pressure.

Whoa! I think Darnand is going to be very unhappy when he finds out Abiene and Jerric have been together already. I’m under the impression he never knew.

I found a pic of Darnand in his new Bard's haircut

It was nice to hear some more of Darnand's backstory. So he was a wild teen rebel! And Teekeus straightened him out? Interesting. I wonder if the girl he is talking about is Abiene? Or if there is someone else from before? Only time will tell...

Lots of loose ends developing in the last two installments. Chorrol will be busy!

As mentioned several times (deservedly so), dear Ulfe wiggles, worms, noses and stinks her way seamlessly and delightfully through this entire episode. I laughed when she rejected Jerric’s biscuit as unfit for canine consumption. Perhaps she’ll find a dead bird on the road baking in the sun on the way to Chorrol.

Loved Jerric relaying his joke about stoking the other fellow’s fear of losing his hair.

It hit me like a bolt out of the blue- Oh course, Darnand has feelings for Abiene! I can see where his critical self-analyzing could cast his own disfavor upon himself in regards to coupling with Lildereth.

The elf, of course, remains a mystery. She’s gone again! Like a leaf in the wind.

Oooh, bless Darnand...Bet it's the bookish wench... ...

Brilliant chapter...Loving the backstory thing...Looking forward to seeing what goes on in Chorrol...

And yes, Having had Lildreth in the party for the length of time I've been here, It's kind of cool to have her come and go all mysterious like...Me does like her muchly, looking forward to much more of her...

Also looking forward to seeing if you fill in the blanks at some point... ...

Loved it...Even if the gate answer was straightforward after all... ...

Love the deer breath doggie... ...

Darnard is certainly the nieve one. When he finds out that Abienne and Jerric have been at it, and that she isn't that bothered by Jerric's... proclivities, I suspect he will not be a happy bunny. I'm sure it will be interesting to read.

His being out of sorts was more noticeable and I suspect worry about facing the past in Chorrol is the least of it. He's anxious about meeting Abienne, I think, and feels guilty for some reason about his fling with Lildreth but moreso he wanted to again and didn't get, and feels he shouldn't want to. At least that's my reading of his morning mood. Brilliantly rich characters that I end up reading so much into a couple of lines.

I look forward to Chorrol.

haute ecole rider: Darnand has 1990s Robert Downey Jr. hair, when it was wavy and long on top. It's not a battlemage approved style. Jerric is indeed a mighty beverage processing unit. I’m glad you enjoyed Ulfe and Lildereth. Writing the doggy parts makes me smile. Thank you, haute!

mALX: I was thinking of you and grinning when I wrote about Jerric’s reaction to Darnand’s “confession.” A little more information, please, Breton!! Thank you, mALX!

King Coin: They might not see Lildereth again until someone washes the dog. Your impression is correct, Darnand never caught on to Jerric and Abiene. Carahil and Thaurron did, though. And I don’t think Darnand would be happy about it, either. In the first sentence of the whole story, Darnand is thinking wistfully about Abiene. Thank you, KC!

SubRosa: Nice pic for bard hair, thanks! I had a tough time coming up with a term for it! Darnand was a dutiful son until his parents died and his older brother threw him out. Then he was an angry teenager. He and Jerric talked about it ages ago (our time). That’s how he knew what to do with Jerric post-walkabout, and why he bothered.

ghastley: Very busy, and I’ve already forgotten to include some small things. You should see my frantically scribbled notes! If anything needs more detail, I can always go back and fill in. Thank you, ghastley!

Acadian: That is so Darnand!! And that’s exactly why he has not been on a tireless quest for a second round with Lildereth, no matter how much he thinks about it. I may have been involved in a similar prank, but of course I was not fool enough to cut my own hair. Thank you, Acadian!

McBadgere: Thank you, McB! I think Lildereth should get her own episode soon. She really has been busy, but the boys have no idea. We’ll fill in some blanks, but there are always more questions. And of course I sometimes forget to check my notes.

Olen: Oh my gosh, that was exactly Darnand’s morning. I am absolutely delighted that you understand what’s on his mind, because all Darnand could say about the whole mess was, “I am out of sorts.” Thank you, Olen!


Where we are: Jerric, Darnand, and the four-legged friends are on the way to Chorrol via Weynon Priory. Lildereth has flitted away again.




Chapter 15: Chorrol, Part Four


The sun had not risen above the trees when Jerric and Darnand rode into the courtyard of Weynon Priory. The grounds appeared tidy but nearly empty of life. A Dunmer knelt at work by the sheepfold gate. The only other motion came from the foraging chickens.

Jerric dismounted and turned the horses over to Darnand. Ulfe romped up to wipe her mouth on his leg, and then she trotted along at his side. He recognized the shepherd Eronor as he approached the sheepfold.

“Hail and good morning!” Jerric called.

Eronor scowled with recognition. He quickly glanced behind Jerric, then around over his own shoulder. Jerric recalled the violence of his last visit to the priory.

“Nord,” said Eronor.

Jerric decided to keep this conversation brief. “Do you have a new prior?”

Eronor jerked his chin toward the priory house. “He’s away. You’ll want Brother Venco.”

“Where’s Brother Piner? I’d like to speak with him.”

Eronor’s face became a mask. “He rests in the bone yard with Prior Maborel and the others.”

Jerric’s breath caught in his chest. “When? Wha— How did he die?”

Eronor turned back to his work. “I expect he was screaming.”

The shadows had shortened when Jerric looked up from Piner’s grave. Grey winter wrens from Skyrim made soft chirps and rustling noises, searching for tiny seeds in the dry grass around him. Ulfe still sat quietly with her chin cradled in his palm. He could hear Eronor working on the gate. The footsteps behind him must have pulled him from his thoughts. He felt Darnand’s hand low on his shoulder.

“Go on to Chorrol,” Jerric said. “Take Flash and Ulfe. I’ll see you at the guild hall if I don’t catch you on the road. Leave word there if you have to get us a room at an inn. I need to find out what happened here.” He kept his face turned away from his friend.

Darnand stood beside him for another moment without speaking. Then he made a coaxing sound and walked away with the dog.

Now they’re all in danger, thought Jerric. Every moment with me is a risk they don’t know they’re taking. I should leave them. All of them.

After a time he made his way to the priory house.

A middle-aged monk met him in the entry. His dark coloring and high-bridged nose marked him as an Imperial. “Well met, Jerric,” he said. “I am Brother Venco.”

Jerric wasn’t sure how to greet him.

Brother Venco didn’t wait for him to figure it out. “I am under instruction from your uncle,” he continued. He gestured toward the stairs. “Will you accompany me?”

It took Jerric a moment to remember their code. His uncle meant Cloud Ruler Temple. “Yeah.” He headed up the stairs to the right toward Jauffre’s office loft.

Venco surprised him again by opening the secret panel behind the bookshelves. The hidden chamber now contained a small desk, cupboards, and two chairs. In one of the chairs, rigid with tension, sat Darnand. His face told Jerric that he was completely confused and ready to defend himself. Jerric tried to cover his own dismay and reassure him with a look. He took the other chair while Venco closed the door.

Jerric was too upset for formalities. “Why didn’t Baurus tell me about Piner?” he asked Venco.

The Imperial seated himself behind the desk. “I have the same question. At best, my message did not reach him in time.”

Jerric didn’t want to consider the worst. “What about that Gate along the Black Road? What about the Odiils? Do you think any of that is connected to me coming back to Chorrol?”

Venco blinked. “Who are the Odiils?”

Jerric filled him in.

“Do not enquire at the castle,” Venco said thoughtfully. “Some folk will know you by your old name. That cannot be helped. Identifying yourself to anyone new is an unnecessary risk.”

“My old…”

“You must leave Jerric of Kvatch behind along with your armor. Kjellingson of Anvil is a name that will not cause you to stumble and will not be readily connected to your past. You are already known in Chorrol, but in your further travels you should use your surname. I see that you have already eliminated your most distinctive scar. Perhaps you might repair your nose with the help of a skilled healer.”

Jerric and Darnand exchanged a look. “I know one,” said Jerric. “What are you saying about my armor?”

“Rasheda has your new plate at Fire and Steel in Chorrol. It was made for you by the smiths who crafted your Blades armor.”

“Garond and Mahvash,” said Jerric. He glanced uneasily back at Darnand. His hope of keeping the Breton out of this was quickly fading.

Venco nodded. “You must leave everything that connects you with Kvatch, the Blades, and Lord Martin.”

“Wait—” said Jerric, throwing out his hands as if to stop Venco’s words.

“There is another Septim,” Venco said to Darnand. “He is safe with his Blades, thanks to the actions of Jerric Lionheart. Our Lord Martin of Kvatch is Emperor Uriel’s last surviving heir. He alone might relight the Dragonfires and renew the seal against Oblivion. Yet the Amulet of Kings is in the hands of the enemy. Our only hope is to find it.”

Jerric wanted to cut Brother Venco down in his chair. Instead he watched Darnand, sickened and hopeful at the same time.

Darnand leaned forward, utterly calm. “What is my part in this?”

Venco placed his palms on the desk. “I would ask that you aid our agent Jerric. You are familiar with his assignment?”

Darnand shot a glance at Jerric. “I suspect there is much that I do not know.”

Jerric calmed himself while Venco briefed Darnand. His friend did not betray the parts that Jerric had already told him.

“So your goals remain the same,” Venco finished. “Travel to the Mages Guild chapters. Learn your spells and earn your recommendations. Search for the remaining Mythic Dawn Commentaries. The only difference is that Kjellingson will travel as your hired guard.”

“He is known by the Mages Guild,” Darnand pointed out.

“Raminus Polus will be made aware of the slight deception. You need not fear discovery. Jerric Kjellingson is his true name.”

“Why drag Darnand into this?” Jerric interrupted. “Why not assign me to some other agent?”

“We may never learn who betrayed Emperor Uriel. Perhaps they even perished under the prison, while pretending to help his Majesty escape the assassins. You who had the opportunity to aid the enemy but did not are above suspicion. At present, you and Baurus are our most trusted agents in the field. Penoit could not have known to meet you prior to the assassination, and Baurus assures me that he has not been converted since.”

“I guess you can add Brother Piner to your list of the trusted,” said Jerric.

A shadow passed across Venco’s face. “May Arkay guide his journey.”

Jerric nodded at his friend. “I notice you didn’t ask him to join up.”

“Your invitation was far out of the ordinary. The gods brought you before the Emperor at the very hour of his death. Divine intervention circumvents our recruitment process.”

Jerric didn’t know what else to ask first. “What happened to Piner?”

“He was ambushed by Mythic Dawn agents outside Chorrol. They questioned him briefly. He did not survive.”

Jerric dried his palms on his thighs. Piner’s skill with the katana had surpassed his own. His death was a personal loss, but also a blow to Jerric’s confidence. “Grandmaster Jauffre told me not to get taken alive,” he said. “I don’t really have a plan for that. I can’t count on a killing spell. I might absorb it.”

Venco made a steeple with his fingers while he considered the question. “You are an alchemist, are you not? I suggest a strong poison.”

“Fast acting,” said Darnand. “On a short blade.”

“Perhaps your Bosmer friend might advise you,” said Venco. His eyes were as still as a snake’s.

Darnand stiffened at his side. Jerric began inwardly cursing.

“I have questions about the nature of your relationship,” Venco continued. “Has she tried to win your affection, or bind you to her in any way?”

Jerric recalled her soft voice in the night, the time she let him see her tears, and every glimpse of her naked. Hells, he thought. She even humped the Breton.

“No,” said Darnand.

Jerric shook his head. “No.”

“You do not have the luxury of trust,” Venco told them. “Her arrival in Anvil coincided with your return.”

“She could have killed me a hundred times,” Jerric objected. He looked to Darnand for support.

Darnand cleared his throat. “Brother Venco wonders if she might be waiting for you to lead her to Lord Martin.” Darnand’s face showed that he harbored a doubt. Jerric hated to admit to his own uneasy feeling.

“She’s going to notice if I change my name,” Jerric said to Venco.

“Then I suggest you craft a convincing tale or end your association.” Venco moved to a cupboard and retrieved a large, round shield. “This shield is Akaviri work. The enchantment will fortify your ability to turn blows with your shield and heavy armor. It also carries an enchantment that should increase the strength of your steel plate to roughly that of Dwarven material, without the added weight. I cannot explain the nature of the fortification, but you should not carry it when you are wearing light armor, such as your leather.”

“Or my mail,” Jerric said warily.

“You will leave your Kvatch mail, Wolf shield, and Blades helmet here.” Venco’s lowered brows did not invite argument.

Dammit, thought Jerric. “My helm carries a strong fire shield enchantment.”

“This is not a negotiation. We must still find the Amulet and return it to Lord Martin. Then he must reach the Temple of the One to light the Dragonfires. The gods gave Emperor Uriel a vision of you at Lord Martin’s side. Only Akatosh knows why he chose you, but he did. Now we must deal with it. You will have contact with the enemy, so you must not be identified. Our plan does not include losing you at this early hour.”

Jerric scratched a hand through his hair. “What about my katana? I’ve been training with it. I’d hate to leave it behind.”

“In your new armor you will appear as a successful mercenary who has an appreciation of Akaviri style. That is the reason behind the shield. It is called the Tower of the Nine. You purchased it from Viator Accius of Stonewall Shields in the Imperial City.”

Jerric turned his attention to the shield. Its age was evident in the cracks around the edges, but the elaborate enameled designs were largely intact. The red jewel at the center had no chips or cracks. He took that as evidence of the shield enchantment. It felt good on his arm. Heavier than his Wolf shield, and far more sturdy. His experimental bashing motion made him proud of his conditioning. He bounced on his toes a few times, letting out some stress.

“It is close enough in style to the Blades’ shields to cause confusion,” said Darnand. Jerric and Venco gave him their attention. “If anyone speaks of Jerric’s Blades helm and katana, Kjellingson’s ownership of an Akaviri shield and katana will cast doubt upon the rumor. The incorrect information will suggest that any connection is a mistake.”

Venco nodded. He placed a heavy coin purse on the desk in front of Jerric. “The Blades do not expect you to fund your own missions. This will offset your expenses, such as the purchase of another horse.”

Jerric got his meaning with a sinking feeling. “No,” he groaned. “Not Flash!”

“His markings make him unique,” Darnand said softly.

Venco’s look was both calculating and approving. “Darnand Penoit, I thank you for your cooperation. On behalf of the Blades, and in the name of his Lordship Martin Septim.”

“I look forward to the honor of meeting him,” Darnand replied. Jerric was impressed by his cool tone. The Breton had taken in quite a lot of new information.

The two of them left the priory house and headed around toward the stable. Jerric wondered if Darnand was angry at his past deception. A single look reassured him.

“That was a smooth lie,” Darnand said. “About the elf.”

“I managed one word that time. I must be getting better at this agent business.” Jerric stopped him under the portico. “I took the Amulet of Kings from Emperor Uriel and delivered it to the Grandmaster of the Blades, here at the priory,” he said quietly. “Jauffre told me where to find Martin. That’s all of it. I would have kept you out of this, but now I’m glad you’re in it.”

“You are an agent for the Blades,” said Darnand, as if he still didn’t quite believe it.

“Yeah. I’m the first to admit I make a poor soldier. Though when I think of my heroes, they’re generally in some kind of uniform.”

“I suppose that makes me an asset.”

Jerric wasn’t sure any of that mattered. “Don’t forget, now I’m working for you. Boss.”

Now Darnand’s expression was unreadable. “Let us hand over your gear and make our farewells to Flash,” he said. “And by the Nine Divines, say nothing about the dog.”



.

Ahhh, so its Downy Jr. hair. I think I like the Leon hair better. But at least Downy hair does not cause lazy eye...

One soul knelt at work by the sheepfold gate.
Necromancers!

Return to Weynon. Jerric does not appear to be very welcome. At least not in Eroner's eyes.

Well, it seems the beans are well and truly spilled now, at least where Darnand is concerned. And Jerric is going undercover, so to speak, to sneak under the Mythic Dawn's radar detect life. And the Tower of the Nine is part of his new identity. Brilliant of you to work in one of the special items from the game that way. Too bad they could not get him that Akaviri Sunderblade too...

So no more Flash, and no more Lildreth. I can't wait to see how they explain things to her! Though granted her disappearances could be attributed to her checking in with her Mythic Dawn control agent... I loved the final line by Darnand. One mention of Ulfe and she would be whisked away too!

Holy Crap! When he had Darnand inside already that freaked me out. THIS is exactly how one would expect the Emperor's Elite Guard to be, not how inept they were in the game - absolutely LOVE what you have done to revamp the Blades !!! Awesome Write !!!

Rude greeting at the priory, though considering the last time Jerric was there, it isn’t totally unwarranted.

Jerric was more deeply affected by the deaths than I anticipated. He didn’t know the place was attacked?

I should leave them. All of them.
Aravi has had those thoughts before. She found her friends more than willing to stand beside her though. I hope Jerric gives them the chance to make a choice on their own, and doesn’t attempt to leave them behind. I’m sure he couldn’t lose Lildereth for very long if he wanted to anyways.

Well… It looks like that option was taken away from him by Venco. I’m fine with that. What I’m not fine with is his mistrust of Lildereth. He’s a Blade though, they are paid to be paranoid. Darnand wouldn’t be a bad agent.

Baurus trusted Jerric, but didn't trust Darnand or Lildereth. Venco trusts Jerric and Darnand, but doesn't trust Lil. We need another Blade!

Wow, you really upped the stakes here!

’Jerric’s breath caught in his chest. “When? Wha— How did he die?”
Eronor turned back to his work. “I expect he was screaming.”’
This was a brilliant mixture of almost humor – that chilled to the bone. Bravo!

’Every moment with me is a risk they don’t know they’re taking. I should leave them. All of them.’
Noble and heartbreaking, Jerric.

Magnificent job with Venco. He oozes confidence and competence with a perfect amount of distance to him.

Eeep! I hope Lili is not sleeping with the MD (Mythic Dawn Sleeper). I’m glad Darnand will be with Jerric – and think it brilliant that Darnand now has the big Nord in his 'employ'. I can only imagine the fun that could entail!

Hmm, fixing Jerric's nose. That smells like an invitation for Abiene.

OOooh, that was...Amazing is too small a word for that chapter...I think that's probably my fave chapter ever...For so many reasons...Crank it up much?... ...Wow...

Loved the way that Jerric debated how to tell Darnand the stuff, then Venco just tells him...Venco reminds me of this character in Hawaii Five-O at the moment, Fryer I think his name is, very close to being a git but ultimately very cool...

Yes, likes Venco does I... ...

The Tower of The Nine!!!...I had that shield for ages with Nordy Boy...I loved it, then my sister told me about the Escutcheon...*Drools*...Enchanted shields...Mmmm...But yes, love the Tower of The Nine...And that cuirass Varnardo has...Can't remember what it's called...But anyways, love the fact that that shield is now in t'story...*Sighs*...

Lildreth is a baddie? ...Oooh, that just makes her hotter... ...Still don't get the Darnand dalliance, but hey, you have to put up with much worse from me so...*Shrugs*... ...

I just read it all again...My Gods this was brilliant...*Bows*...

Love it love it love it!!....

Well done that woman!!...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds till his hands hurt*...

I sense a turning point. The build up has been there, this far they've been coasting, certainly driven by what they want but now I sense more is added. They don't just have what they want but they have a mission and are in danger, so they have fear to drive them too now. There's more signs of change too, Piner is dead and their list of allies grows shorter while the danger comes closer. Leaving Flash and Jerric's fame are other signs of the old times going.

How well will it work though, Jerric seems to be a memorable bloke and no name change will change him, and they make quite a trio anyway. It might throw the Dawn off the trail for a bit, but not for long.

I rather suspect we will still have Lildreth, but it changes the party dynamic more now Darnard is in on the secret. I think Chorrol may be quite a pivotal place.

SubRosa: That Sunderblade would be perfect against dremora armor. Maybe Venco had a budget crisis. I must have been woozy with fever when I wrote that “one soul” line! I’m changing it to Dunmer. Thank you, SubRosa!

mALX: I always imagined that the real Blades would have some truly scary individuals working for them. Not at Cloud Ruler Temple, but in the field. That “Holy crap” moment was exactly what I was hoping for with Darnand already sweating it out in a chair! Thank you, mALX!

King Coin: It was Brother Piner’s recent death outside Chorrol (which doesn’t happen in the game) that hit him so hard. He really liked Piner the first time he met him, and he had a lot of respect for him after the attack that happened the second time he saw him (because Piner was a robe-wearing badass). Also he believes that the Odiils’ disappearance and Piner’s death are somehow his fault. Thank you, KC, especially for your comment about Darnand!

ghastley: I’m sure the third Blade will love her! Maybe that’s how they’ll uncover the Blades traitor, it’s the one who trusts the elf!

Acadian: The Vencos of any world are a mystery to me, so your kind words are very reassuring. Thank you for drawing attention to Jerric’s moment of nobility, that was the heart of the segment for me. The comfort he gets from his friends comes with a dash of guilt. And I’m sure that Jerric’s poor nose is terrified! Actually, that made me think of something… *clickity clickity*

McBadgere: Thank you so much, McBadgere! Very close to being a git is right. I mean he has to use people, but it’s for Good, so it’s complicated. Oh, I wrote a bit today for later in the chapter that was pretty bland in my mind until inspiration struck from your Androforms, so thank you for that, too!

Olen: Very much a turning point, and I have been dragging my feet getting here. You have highlighted the building pressures, thank you! It was fun to imagine Venco dealing with Jerric. You’re right, a name change won’t keep him from continually losing his shirt and associated outrageous behavior, so we’ll have to wait and see how his version of keeping a low profile works out.


Where we are: Darnand has been taken fully into the Blades’ trust. Jerric has handed over his Kvatch and Blades gear and agreed to keep a low profile as Kjellingson of Anvil. Much to Jerric’s dismay, Flash had to stay behind at Weynon Priory.

Note: The Achille in this chapter is not meant to be Achille the Blade from the game. Also, so you don’t have to look it up: Morning Star/January, First Seed/March, Sun’s Height/July. And Destri: hint, hint.




Chapter 15: Chorrol, Part Five


Jerric and Darnand left North Country Stables and walked toward Chorrol’s South Gate. Ulfe kept pace at Jerric’s side. The sun had dropped behind the mountains. Jerric could feel the night’s chill seeping up from the ground.

“You go back tomorrow and buy the horse,” Jerric said. “That Dunmer doesn’t like me.”

“I shall. I would also like to purchase another saddle. It will mean leaving some of our gear behind, but I wish to offer a mount to Lildereth.”

“Yeah,” said Jerric. His tone betrayed how much he already missed her.

“As for our camp needs...”

“I can handle it,” said Jerric. “I’ll sort the gear and you make the trade. We’ll sleep warmer in a smaller tent anyway. Well, it will be lines and tarps, but we’ll manage.” He cut his eyes at Darnand. “Keep your mitts off my cook pots.”

Darnand snorted. Jerric grinned. The Breton resented the effort involved in camp cookery, yet he seemed to appreciate the hot meals.

“I am afraid that we must purge our portable library,” Darnand said. “I have a few volumes that I might live without.”

“I’m reading a book about the Interregnum.” Jerric tried to sound casual. “You would not believe how good it is. I can’t wait to read the next part. When I’m through, you might want to borrow it.”

“In either pack, it will weigh the same.”

The guards nodded them through the open gates. Fountain Gate held few pedestrians and no horses, so Jerric paused in front of the healer statue to admire the view.

“I shall be pleased to see Abiene,” said Darnand, his eyes on the statue.

Her name brought a surge of conflicting emotions. Jerric tried to keep his voice neutral. “Yeah.”

“Will you accompany me to the guild hall?”

Jerric shifted the straps over his shoulder. “I’ll follow you there tonight, but I think I should sleep at an inn. Some folks here know me, but not everyone. Won’t hurt to start acting like who we’re supposed to be.”

“You might dine at the Oak and Crosier, but sellswords stay at the Grey Mare.” Darnand indicted the two inns with a lift of his chin.

“I guess the Grey Mare is where I should do my drinking.”

Darnand gave him a look. “I hope you will return to the guild hall, if it comes to that.”

Piner’s shadow had joined the others in Jerric’s mind. He wondered which of the local rock piles or caves had seen the monk’s end. His eyes went to the steeple visible over the Oak and Crosier. Abiene. She was probably there right now. The thought made his gut twist while his body ached. He knew he wouldn’t stay away from her.

“I’ll have some business in town as well as whatever task Teekeeus gives me,” Jerric said. “I’ll go to Fire and Steel in the morning. I’ll want to stow my new armor with the rest of our gear at the guild hall. Mage locks beat whatever stick I’ll use to wedge the door shut at the Grey Mare. I don’t want to tempt some thief into making a mistake in Emfrid’s, uh, establishment.”

Darnand’s eyebrows told Jerric that he had taken the bait.

“Emfrid,” Jerric sighed. “Now there’s a beauty.” He felt his face flush, even though it was the truth.

“Let us make our way to the guild hall,” Darnand said. “If you are ready.”

Jerric glanced down at Ulfe where she sat politely with her head against his thigh, gazing up at him. “You want to stay with me tonight, girl?” Jerric asked her. “Or the mean one?”

Ulfe’s jaw dropped in a panting grin.

“You may desist with this fiction,” Darnand told him. “I know that you intend to keep the hound.”

The three of them walked around the dry fountain and headed up the street toward Great Oak Place.

“Book stores,” said Jerric. “You or me?”

“I expect I will have the time to pursue that task,” said Darnand. “You may trust me to be thorough. Additionally, I know a few individuals in Chorrol who might have contacts. My interest in daedric texts will not seem unusual to them.”

Jerric noticed a man approaching. Fair-skinned and tall for a Breton, with the kind of red hair most often seen on Nords and prostitutes. The brocade cloak with fox fur mantle and his heavy way of walking suggested he was a merchant type. The two young men at his sides wore practical overcoats and carried thick satchels. No weapons were visible. It was the man’s sharp glare that had drawn Jerric’s attention. He was looking Darnand over with cold assessment. Jerric felt his friend draw himself up at his side.

That fetcher might have some frost resistance, Jerric decided. He brought a shock spell to the front of his mind while he pictured how he would disable the trio. Fast and hard, the redhead first and then the two youngsters. They have higher ground, but the lads aren’t paying attention. They’ll hit the paving stones surprised. Just don’t trip over the dog.

“Darnand,” the man said in passing.

Jerric could hear the strain in Darnand’s voice. “Brother.”

They walked on up the hill for a moment before Jerric spoke. “Your brother,” he ventured. “You don’t look much alike. How long since you talked to him?”

Darnand stepped over to the side of a building, dropping his packs to the ground. He braced himself against the stone wall. “Years. They say he has his mother’s look. The Skyrim blood is strong in that family.” He pressed his eyes shut with shaking fingers.

“Uh…” Jerric looked around to see if anyone was watching them. He was not sure how to handle this unexpected lapse.

Darnand pulled himself straight after a moment, meeting Jerric’s concerned gaze with what looked like defiance.

“You’d better just spit it out,” said Jerric.

Darnand gathered his packs and started walking again. “Achille’s mother was the first Mistress Penoit. She fell victim to a wasting illness when he was a lad. A woman from High Rock was hired to nurse her, someone known to the family. A commoner. Achille’s mother died at the end of Morning Star. Mister Penoit wed the nurse in First Seed. I was born in Sun’s Height.”

Jerric gazed up at the sky while he did the math. “That doesn’t look good.”

“It does not. Achille perceived me as a threat from an early age. My mother was a gentle, loving woman. She was kind to Achille, but he never accepted her. To worsen matters, I am the very image of our father. The Penoits left their titles behind when they came to Cyrodiil, but not their pretensions. It burned Achille that a lesser son could look as if he stepped out of a family portrait, while as the heir he has the appearance of some serving girl’s by-blow.” Darnand glanced over. “I mean you no offense.”

“None taken. He does have a Nordish look. I know you delicate types don’t say that as a compliment.” Jerric considered Darnand’s fine features and slender build. He thanked the gods once again for making him a son of Skyrim.

Darnand made an elegant gesture. “Did you notice his gloves? He wears them in every season. He is ashamed of his peasant fists.” A frown passed over his face. “When I grew old enough to recognize it, I returned my brother’s dislike in kind.”

Jerric made a mental leap. “He’s not so great at magic, is he?”

Now Darnand looked distinctly smug. “He could not cast his way out of a parchment wrapper.”

“He cast you out of your home fast enough.”

Darnand gave Jerric a quick little smile. “I see that you apprehend the relationship. That is a comfort to me.”

Jerric shook his head as they passed into Great Oak Place. Bretons.




.

Ooooh, a little bit more of Darnand's history! I found it very interesting, especially since I have a story idea percolating in the back of my mind that takes advantage of all the different strains floating around that part of Nirn.

I really liked how you conveyed the discomfort that Achille's appearance caused Darnand's, and the unease he felt at his brother's approach. Better yet, how our thick-skinned Nord hero picked up on that tension while the other was still some distance away. Jerric certainly is no dumb Nord, that's for sure!

Um...Wow... ...Anytime!!...I am honoured to have helped in some small way milady *Bows*... ...

Oh yeah!!!...New Jerric!!...*Sighs contentedly*... ...



Tea, meet monitor... ...

Loved that line...

And methinks this a huge hint at someone...



Unsurprisingly enough, I loved this intro trawl into Chorrol...I could picture it all brilliantly...

And then, we get some background on the Darnand thrown in for good measure...

Great descriptions of the trio btw...Nicely done...

Another excellent chapter...Looking forward to much more...

Oh yes...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

“I’m reading a book about the Interregnum.”
I wonder if it is the one by that famous Redguard historian, Destri Melarg?

So Darnand's brother is part of that family? Rather than part of Darnand's? This will be interesting. Ahh, so they are half-brothers. It sounds like Achille is quite the heel as well. Very aptly named on your part.

Ooh, a bit of Darnand's history and family skeletons rattling! This is really interesting, like fishing and seeing the bobber dunk and waiting for the rest of the bite !!!! I am intrigued to know more, and also to find out who Darnand was saving himself for (hopefully NOT Abiene, or it will blow his friendship with Jerric completely apart! ARGH !!! LOVE this chapter, Awesome Write !!!!

“I shall. I would also like to purchase another saddle. It will mean leaving some of our gear behind, but I wish to offer a mount to Lildereth.”
I thought he already offered her one, and she accepted. *slaps self* OMG, I’m thinking like Jerric!

'Darnand snorted. Jerric grinned. The Breton resented the effort involved in camp cookery, yet he seemed to appreciate the hot meals.’
What a great partnership! Jerric cooks & cleans and, in return, Darnand eats!

Yup, got the Destri hint from Jerric's reading selection.

’That fetcher might have some frost resistance, Jerric decided. He brought a shock spell to the front of his mind while he pictured how he would disable the trio. Fast and hard, the redhead first and then the two youngsters. They have higher ground, but the lads aren’t paying attention. They’ll hit the paving stones surprised. Just don’t trip over the dog.’
I see Jerric noted the likely Nordic blood in the tall red-headed Breton and its implication of frost resistance. How neat to listen in on Jerric’s quick, but practiced assessment as he pondered his response to the possible threat. Quite intriguing about Darnand’s brother.

’Jerric considered Darnand’s fine features and slender build. He thanked the gods once again for making him a son of Skyrim.’
For some reason, this made me want to cheer for our rugged hero!

’Jerric made a mental leap. “He’s not so great at magic, is he?”
Now Darnand looked distinctly smug. “He could not cast his way out of a parchment wrapper.”
“He cast you out of your home fast enough.”
Darnand gave Jerric a quick little smile. “I see that you apprehend the relationship. That is a comfort to me.”
Jerric shook his head as they passed into Great Oak Place. Bretons.’
I simply loved this little exchange! From its setting-friendly wrappings to tasking the word ‘cast’ with double duty. And finally, that unique and delightful understanding between our two friends, the odd couple.

I am so delighted to read wherever you take me, my friend, but I must confess that I am hopeful of seeing Abiene again during this Chorrol visit.

I have really started to miss Cyrodiil and your opening description is not helping! Chorrol is my favorite city in Cyrodill. There’s just so much to do in Skyrim yet.

Lildereth. What is she up to? She’s been off on her own as of late.

A brother! So here’s one of the Bretons that tossed Darnand out of the house.

He thanked the gods once again for making him a son of Skyrim.


Now Darnand looked distinctly smug. “He could not cast his way out of a parchment wrapper.”


Bretons indeed.

It just makes sense that the Alchemist would be the cook. Although knowing how he mixes his potions, I wouldn't want to watch the preparation, just trust the results.

All the bits I wanted to quote already were.

nits: was "sellswords" a typo for spellswords, or your term for a mercenary?

haute ecole rider: High Rock seems like the perfect setting for stories of violence and betrayal. The more I read about lore, the more interesting the “other” provinces sound! Years of guard work make Jerric scan for threats as naturally as breathing. It’s fun to show him being awesome, since he so often spills his mead while searching for his pants. Thank you, haute!

McBadgere: I was proud of Jerric for not teasing Darnand about the mounting. Here’s the link to Destri’s magnificent Interregnum, and Jerric is not the only one who wants to find it at the top of the board again someday. Thank you, McB! It’s great to have you back!

SubRosa: Achille is one of those characters who showed up fully formed and that was his name, so I thought I’d better not fight it. At least now Jerric knows enough to stop trying to drag Darnand into brothels! Thank you, SubRosa!

mALX: Yep, now Jerric is really in the know. I have an episode started from Darnand’s point of view, so some questions will be answered. It’s the only way I could think to get him to spill the goods, since he thinks that a three word statement amounts to a full confession. Thank you, mALX!

Acadian: Abiene is very much expecting a social call from both men and a girlfriend chat whenever Lildereth shows up. I can see her marching down from the chapel if someone doesn't get over there pretty quick! Thank you so much for your kind words, Acadian. The odd couple moments are such fun to write!

King Coin: I love the Chorrol area, and I’m still finding new things there. Jerric just found out (in his game) the reason behind that crazy Dunmer in the burgundy dress who runs around killing wildlife. Maybe Lildereth will have to go on a Dunmer hunt! Thanks, KC!

ghastley: You’re so right, do not ask Jerric what he put in the soup. And best to chew carefully. It was sellswords for mercenary, and thanks for pointing it out. That’s exactly the kind of error my eyes just don’t see. Thank you, ghastley!

Where we are: Darnand, Jerric, and Ulfe have arrived in Chorrol. An uncomfortable moment with Darnand’s half-brother led Darnand to explain that although his parents managed to marry before he was born, he was the product of their adulterous relationship. Lildereth is off somewhere on her own.




Chapter 15: Chorrol, Part Six


Jerric and Darnand stopped in front of the Chorrol Mages Guild Hall. Great Oak Place was quiet behind them. The street lamps were burning. The only sounds were wind through bare branches and a guard’s booted feet. Ulfe dropped onto her haunches. Jerric watched his friend.

“They will be gathered in the reception hall at this hour,” Darnand said after a moment.

“Waiting for dinner,” said Jerric. “That counter will be loaded with drinks and stuff on those little pieces of bread.” Darnand remained still and silent, looking up at the round stained glass window. “I guess I’ll stow my gear and head to the bathhouse. Scrub off the stink and see what Emfrid has left in the pot.”

Darnand’s slight nod let Jerric know that he was listening.

“I’ll come back for breakfast,” Jerric continued. “I’ll want to talk to Teekeeus and see about my armor tomorrow.”

“We should speak to Athragar in the morning. As you anticipate, this evening will be for sharing news.” Darnand gave him the look that was his version of a hand clasp. After another moment of not speaking, he moved up onto the portico and opened the door.

Jerric followed him into the crowded reception chamber, Ulfe pressed politely against his leg. Warm light shone from the chandelier, a wealth of candles, and even up from the circular inlay on the floor. Draperies were still pulled across the doors to the dining chamber, but cooking smells drifted through the scents of perfumed oils and hair tonics. This chapter knew how to make any evening an occasion. Jerric glanced over his guild fellows and their guests.

A richly gowned woman was chatting with the bald Imperial whose name Jerric couldn’t remember. Two dark elves in crisp new Apprentice robes were standing by the plates of bread and cheese. Athragar and Angalmo had their heads together with Teekeeus over glasses of wine. A chorus of greetings sounded. Darnand was swept into the group.

Jerric hooked one of Darnand’s packs from his shoulder and headed for the basement. His gear would be safe from outsiders behind the guild’s mage locks. A few moments of shuffling put his overnight necessities in the day pack. Most of their clothing could stand some more use, but they would need to launder soon. He tucked a few blades about his person and slung Redeemer across his back. Just the basics, he told himself. The bulk of their purse remained in Darnand’s keeping. Coins had a way of slipping through Jerric’s fingers.

He kept moving on the way back through the reception hall, counting on Darnand to fill in their explanations. Jerric turned at the door to offer good evenings and check once more on his friend. The Breton stood between Athragar and Teekeeus, a goblet in his hand. The old confidence was back in his face, and renewed energy showed in the set of his shoulders. Jerric hoped he wouldn’t stay up all night. Then he laughed at himself for nursemaiding. This was Darnand’s homecoming. He was right to step away.

Jerric found his eyes returning to the chapel’s steeple as he made his way to the bathhouse. By the time he washed the hound and then got himself clean, it would be late. There was no discreet way to reach Abiene at that hour, short of injuring himself and pleading a curse against his magicka. He considered for a moment. No, a Master Alchemist would be ill-advised to attempt that deception.

As he turned into the alley behind the Oak and Crosier he scanned the street once more for Abiene’s trim form. He imagined the way she strode along with purpose, wayward curls floating around her head. Then he pictured her strolling at leisure in that white summer dress, a smile in her eyes and sunlight on her shoulders. That led to another lap around Fountain Gate to get his body back under control.

The bathhouse attendant greeted them with a grin. “You want hot?”

“Half hot,” said Jerric, “and I’m going to wash the dog.”

“Fine by me,” said the man. “Just keep her out of the soaking tub.” He took Jerric’s coins and handed him a locker key. “Wash stations are straight out back. She can come inside when she settles down. They like to stretch out by the stove.”

Out in the paved courtyard Ulfe soon had them both covered in her soap. Jerric scrubbed himself off while she celebrated her freedom by racing in circles and crashing into walls, dragging the wet towel along in her teeth. By the time Jerric rinsed himself she sat panting by the door. He realized that although their breath was steaming out, he only felt a little cool. He examined the locker key looped around his wrist. It bore a mild enchantment against cold and heat. He wondered if this was what gave Darnand the idea for Abiene’s present.

His stomach reminded him that time was passing, but his bones craved a soak. Inside he eased into the waiting tub. Ulfe flopped down in front of the wood stove. After a time the bathing attendant returned. He bore a wine bottle, a clay mug, and a spot of color on each cheek.

“Need anything?”

“No, thanks.” Jerric leaned his head back and tried to get more of himself under the water.

“Name’s Hastus,” said the man.

“I’m Jerric. Pleased to meet you.” He guessed that the late hour was to blame for the empty bathhouse and Hastus’ undivided attention.

“Thought I recognized you from summer’s end,” said Hastus. “You know, I almost have a mind to charge you Nords by the foot.” He sat down on a wooden stool.

Jerric looked over to see if he was jesting. “How do you know it was me? I’m not the only Nord you’ve seen in County Chorrol.”

“Ha! You might be the only one who bathes.”

Jerric sighed. At times like these handing out a beating only served to tell the man that he was right. Besides, his tone didn’t offer offense. “The captain of your Guard is a Nord,” Jerric said. He gestured for the wine. If this fetcher was going to act familiar, he could share his drink.

Hastus filled his mug and handed Jerric the bottle. “That he is. Keeps to himself, not very social. I see him from time to time at the Oak and Crosier. Now there’s a fine establishment. Respectable.” Hastus leaned back grinning. “You staying at the Mare?”

Jerric had to laugh. “Yeah.” Only an Imperial could be this reckless with his mouth and still keep his teeth. He winced at the sour wine. “It’s hard work drinking this after Skingrad.”

“You’re from the West Weald? I’d’ve guessed Gold Coast by your talk.”

Jerric was in no mood to reminisce about Kvatch. He let his consonants slide into the Abecean. “Anvil. Ever been there?” Evah bin they-ah? He took another swig of wine.

“Never been farther than the Imperial City. Say, wha—”

“Do you know what happened to the Odiils?” Jerric interrupted. He realized he wasn’t sure exactly what he was supposed to admit about his identity, his home, or his recent activities. This man already knows me, he decided. Best to save the dissembling for Bruma.

“I heard they all got killed. Their place is up for sale or rent, just like the others over that way. Goblin country. Too far out for city watch, and the militia has their eyes open for daedra. Folk are right to move back inside the walls. Can’t expect someone to defend what’s indefensible.”

“They were farmers.” Jerric gestured with his bottle. “What will you drink when there’s no new harvest?”

Hastus considered his wine. “I suppose the Elder Council is thinking on that. In the meantime, maybe we should all plant some potatoes. Say, the old man used to drink at the Grey Mare. Maybe that Nord woman will have something to tell you.”

“Emfrid.” Jerric started climbing out of the bath. “I’m heading there now, unless you have a mind to cook me dinner.”

Hastus hooked a thumb toward the adjacent chamber. “I set a shaving stand up for you.”

Jerric nodded his thanks. The man knew his business.

The chapel bells tolled the quarter hour as Jerric walked into the Grey Mare. He had lost track of which hour, but it was late. Three young men sat at one table, a pitcher and mugs between them. The dark-haired one strummed listlessly on a lute, and his friends were quiet. Emfrid was working on one of the table tops with a brush and scrubbing sand. She straightened and wiped her hands. Jerric saw recognition dawn in her face.

“Welcome back,” she said. After a quick glance at the table of Imperials, she gestured toward the empty bar.

Jerric took a seat and settled his belongings. Emfrid filled a tankard while he enjoyed her long-limbed grace. He guessed from the single tapped keg that the Mare was not offering a wide selection this evening.

Emfrid waited until he had taken a long drink before she spoke. “Will you be in town for long, Jerric?”

“A few days at least, maybe a week. I’d like to stay here, if I may. That is, if you have a bed. I mean if you have a room available.”

He guessed that she had a great deal of practice ignoring men’s blundering, because she didn’t even raise an eyebrow. “I do. I’m glad you got here tonight, with Heart’s Day right around the corner. I’ll have my hands full then.”

Jerric lost a moment doing the math. “Heart’s Day is…?”

“The day after tomorrow.” She brushed a palm over the bar and gave him a slow smile. “On Loredas. You still have time to shop.”

“Uh, right.” Jerric ran a hand through his hair. He had a few gifts for Abiene since he had missed her birthday. He could save one and give it to her for Heart’s Day. Now that he thought about it, a ring had been a poor choice to have Darnand enchant for her. It was going to be hard enough to put some distance between them without making promises with jewelry. Then he had a thought. Was Emfrid flirting with him?

His stomach growled before he could decide. Emfrid walked out through a side door without a word. Jerric looked down at Ulfe, whose quiet presence he had completely forgotten. “Smooth. Let’s keep this between us, girl.”

Emfrid reappeared bearing a clay tureen shaped like a pumpkin. “Stew,” she said, placing it in front of Jerric. When she lifted the lid, fragrant steam made sweat break out on his face while his mouth filled with anticipation. He swallowed a few times, fearful of drooling.

“Thanks.” An experimental scoop brought corn, beans, shredded meat, and chunks of pumpkin to light. Chopped winter greens and onions swirled through the thick gravy. Emfrid returned and slid a platter of brown bread across the bar. The accompanying crock of butter looked on the brink of melting. Jerric realized that he was meant to eat directly from the tureen. All of this was just for him. He gave Emfrid a look of pure adoration.

She answered with a cool smile. “May I fix a bowl for your dog?”

Ulfe’s ears pricked up hopefully.

“Yeah. She —” But Emfrid was gone again.

Toward the bottom of the tureen, Jerric looked up to find Emfrid’s eyes on him. He put down the spoon and wiped his mouth.

“I have ill news, Jerric.”

“The Odiils. Do you know what happened?”

Emfrid took a sip from her own tankard. “I heard they found Rallus in the high field, Valus and Antus out by the well. The house and barn doors had been broken down. Animals had been at them, so there’s no telling what occurred.”

“They were attacked is what occurred. Someone broke down those doors. They would only have been barred from the inside. Do they think it was goblins? Captain Bittneld, or whoever investigated?”

“I don’t know, Jerric, only that they’re gone. Valus spoke your name every time he came in here, so I thought you would want to know.”

“He gave me his sword. Chillrend.”

“I know. He thought highly of you. He never forgot that you stood with his boys.”

“He was going to figure out how to cultivate Nirnroot.”

“Well I don’t know about that.” Emfrid topped up their drinks from the keg. “He used to say, ‘May we all come to peaceful ends, and leave our debts unto our friends.’”

Jerric felt a grin tugging his face. “That sounds like an Imperial’s benediction.”

Emfrid raised her mug. “To Valus, Rallus, and Antus. May they find peace.”

Jerric clunked his against it. “May Arkay take away all their harm.”

They drained their tankards. Jerric felt a colossal belch building. Thankfully Emfrid walked over to tend to her other customers before it escaped.

Ulfe finished scouring her bowl against the bar. She lapped noisily at her water and lifted her head before the last swallow, letting it spill out of her jaws as she grinned up at him. Jerric passed her a hunk of bread. Ulfe took it with gentle dignity, then sprawled sideways with her back legs under his bar stool. Jerric shook his head. This was definitely his dog.

An elegantly dressed Altmer woman descended the stairs while Jerric was stuffing his mouth with the last of the loaf. She scanned the room before she came to sit beside Jerric.

She didn’t seem threatening, but the hard look in her eyes gave the lie to her smile. Those lines on her face did not come from laughing. Jerric thought it odd for her to sit there without speaking, but he supposed that an Altmer might not bother to keep up with human customs. Her eyes traveled over him like she was considering a purchase.

“I’m Jerric,” he finally said.

“Earana,” said the Altmer. “Looks like you're handy with a blade.”





.

Coins had a way of slipping through Jerric’s fingers.
*in the voice of Baurus as he wrongly guesses your character class* I never would have guessed.

Ulfe was much fun in the bathhouse, as dogs always are whenever water is involved.

Sad news about the Odills. I guess the goblins finally got them after all.

So it is almost Valentine's Heart's Day? Good timing for Jerric. Let's hope he does not forget it again.

Hmm, the plot thickens with the Odill's. That does not sound like goblins after all. Me wonders if they were murdered for knowing something about Nirnroot?

Her eyes traveled over him like she was considering a purchase.
I love this line.

Now I am wondering if there are too many fingers in the mountain?

*

This was a delightful surprise! Jerric's mind seemed to be wavering between "can't wait to see Abiene" and almost wanting to push to an end of their relationship! What is going on with him?

I'm kind of relieved, mainly because she may have been the one Darnand was holding himself out for - don't want that to be a secret that has to be kept from Jerric, you know?

Hastus had me in hysterics! Jerric seems to attract a LOT of company when he bathes, I'll never forget his bath in the Anvil Mages Guild that was attended by every single member of the guild there, ROFL !!!



SPEW !!! You owe me a monitor now, hot coffee sprayed everywhere !!



Earana !!! I knew it had to be her, ROFL !!!

Oh boy, now how will Jerric juggle Emfrid and Earana both seeking his attention? ROFL !! Although Earana in the throws of passion with Jerric is probably not what she has in mind (and boggles my mind trying to picture it, ROFL !!)

Absolutely LOVED this wonderful surprise, AWESOME WRITE !!!!


*

A fun dinner function at the Chorrol guild hall. You really brought some sparkle to the place and it was nice to see Darnand liven up to be in his 'natural habitat'.

’As he turned into the alley behind the Oak and Crosier he scanned the street once more for Abiene’s trim form. He imagined the way she strode along with purpose, wayward curls floating around her head. Then he pictured her strolling at leisure in that white summer dress, a smile in her eyes and sunlight on her shoulders. That led to another lap around Fountain Gate to get his body back under control.’
What a lovely reminder of Abiene!

’Jerric had to laugh. “Yeah.” Only an Imperial could be this reckless with his mouth and still keep his teeth. He winced at the sour wine. “It’s hard work drinking this after Skingrad.”
Nice nod to the Imperials’ racial penchant for charm/speechcraft. Good job bringing Hastus to life so naturally.

“They were farmers.” Jerric gestured with his bottle. “What will you drink when there’s no new harvest?”
Jerric and his priorities. . . .

’The chapel bells tolled the quarter hour as Jerric walked into the Grey Mare. He had lost track of which hour, but it was late. Three young men sat at one table, a pitcher and mugs between them. The dark-haired one strummed listlessly on a lute, and his friends were quiet. Emfrid was working on one of the table tops with a brush and scrubbing sand. She straightened and wiped her hands. Jerric saw recognition dawn in her face.’
Another magnificently worded Grits scene-setting description. Elegant and efficient with a wonderful touch of whimsy!

’Jerric realized that he was meant to eat directly from the tureen. All of this was just for him. He gave Emfrid a look of pure adoration.’
Emfrid surely knows the way to Jerric’s heart. Thanks so much for feeding us in this episode. Yum!

’They drained their tankards. Jerric felt a colossal belch building. Thankfully Emfrid walked over to tend to her other customers before it escaped.’
That’s our Jerric. Smooth as an ogre’s rump.

What a shame about the Odiil’s.

Tantalizing appearance by Earana. . . .

Sounds like Darnand was greeted warmly by the guild. I was a little nervous for him. I like the explanation on why Darnand keeps the money too. Jerric trying to think of a way to visit Abiene!

Ulfe was adorable with the towel! For a second I thought the attendant was coming around for something other than a chat. Sad news on the Odiils. Emfrid must really like Jerric! And Ulfe is so well behaved compared to our dog. If you hand something to her, be ready to lose a knuckle, she’s so eager to gulp down whatever it is.

Earana. I suggest the Buffy route when dealing with her. Where’s Lildereth?

Earana is normally looking for a Mage's guild member, rather than just a hired sword. That suggests she knows that Jerric is one, but I expect we'll find out about that soon. However, since his current cover story is mercenary guard, it's good reinforcement for that.

Of course Emfrid would understand a Nord's need to feed. Did the mention of Bitneld imply that you're tying in that piece of story too?

Ulfe's on form again. Too much to quote.

Jerric's imagining Abiene dressed? Are things fading?

SubRosa: Jerric is going to keep wondering about the Odiils, too. He pretty much figures it’s somehow his fault, even if it was goblins. I very nearly missed Heart’s Day myself, since I hadn’t updated my timeline in a while. Abiene would have been furious! Mountain fingers coming right up. Thank you, SubRosa!

mALX: Jerric is conflicted over Abiene. On the one hand, he would marry her in a minute. On the other, he’s terrified that the Mythic Dawn will drag her off and torture her to death (like Piner) in case she knows something, so he thinks he should avoid her. But we know he tends to vote with his middle member. I was rolling trying to NOT picture the Jerric/Emfrid/Earana situation. You got me back for the coffee spew! Thank you so much, mALX!

Acadian: I made chili with corn and beans after that episode. Emfrid’s pumpkin stew made me do it! I made the mistake of skimming over Jerric’s first visit to Chorrol, so I hope to give the place a little more flavor this time through. His whole world turned upside down since then, so he kind of has new eyes on everything. I’m glad you mentioned Darnand, it is always a challenge to show what’s going on with him. Thank you so much, Acadian!

King Coin: We looked after my mother-in law’s dog for a few years. He was very loveable, but also a little over-eager with the treats. We would toss his far away from us, then our sweet dog would gently take his from our fingers while the wild one was tearing a hole in the floor picking his up. Our boy was so happy when his brother went back home! (They were from the same litter.) Thank you for your kind thoughts about Darnand. And funny you should mention Lildereth…

ghastley: I’m sure he runs his mind over every inch of her on a regular basis. Those scenes can be summarized with “Jerric returned, fastening his buckles.” I’ve taken some small liberties with this quest, hopefully it will still make sense. I thought about using an angle where Earana needed a mage who would accept the spell instead of payment, but in the end I decided she would just hire a fighter to reduce the risk of a double-cross at first. Then once she had the book, she might lure a guild member into escorting her up there so that she could gain the spell, plus getting one of Teekeeus’ mages on her side would rub his nose in it. Jerric’s had two hints from Emfrid about Bittneld now. I hope I can work a matchmaking attempt into this visit. It went so well when he tried to hook Eronor up with Lildereth. Thank you, ghastley!

Where we are: In Chorrol. Jerric has taken a room at the Grey Mare, and Darnand is staying at the guild hall. Last night Jerric met an Altmer named Earana.




Chapter 15: Chorrol, Part Seven


Jerric breezed into the Mages Guild reception chamber with a pack over his shoulder and a grin on his face. A long run before sunrise had put him in good spirits. For all the talk of thin mountain air, he was managing. Emfrid’s serene company had more than compensated for Earana’s sour presence at breakfast. Best of all, a note had arrived while he lingered over kahve, waiting for the time when Rasheda’s shop would open. He already knew its contents by heart.

Sun’s Dawn 15, 434

My love,

At dawn I rushed outdoors in case the wind might bring the slightest hint of you. I burn knowing that we are within the same city walls and yet apart. My time is not my own.

Seed-Neeus has a guest house behind her shop. I hope with all of my heart that I will see you there tomorrow night.

I am yours.

Abiene

He was fairly certain she was not suggesting that his odor might carry across town, but he had returned to the washbasin for another scrub just the same.

The scene in the guild hall was a near reenactment of the one from last night. The Chorrol mages had gathered again in animated conversation with visitors, junior members, and one another. Kahve mugs replaced the goblets of wine. Jerric knew that these men produced important work for the guild, he just hadn’t witnessed it yet. Today Teekeeus stood chatting with another Argonian. The two had almost identical head spines and facial markings. Jerric wondered if they shared some kinship. Not knowing how to ask made him feel awkward. He nodded his greetings and made his way up the stairs.

The Chorrol guild hall’s large library was surely one of Cyrodiil’s most pleasant chambers. A low ceiling made the room warm and inviting, even though the space was heated by only a single fireplace. Diamond-paned windows were spaced at regular intervals around the walls, and the open staircase to the third floor living quarters featured a broad landing and window wall. Candelabras, chandeliers, and the yellow stained glass window provided ample light of the sort that eased the eyes when reading. Every inch of wall space between the windows held book cases from floor to ceiling. There was plenty of space around the center table, so quiet conversations held there would not carry to the room’s other occupants. Three of the corner alcoves contained their own work tables and comfortable seating. Thick rugs in a masculine style helped define each area. The fourth corner housed a small chamber well stocked with snacks and beverages. Jerric let out a contented sigh.

Morning sun flooded in through the round window, marking its pattern in colored light across the floorboards. Darnand sat at a table in the corner between the fireplace and the staircase. His eyes were fixed on the floor, but his mind was obviously elsewhere. He looked up in surprise when Jerric seated himself.

“Good morning.” Jerric gave him a friendly punch on the shoulder.

Darnand must share his good mood, because he didn’t object. “Indeed. Where is Ulfe?”

“Out back playing with a couple of Khajiit kits. And their nan. Grandfa is at the healing hall over at the chapel. They saw me setting our tent up to dry and wandered over.”

Darnand leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. “Did you learn their entire history, or just the circumstances of the elder’s health complaints?”

“She gave me an earful, that’s for sure. I mean, I like to talk to folk, but there’s a limit. I don’t know how Abiene does it.”

Darnand tapped a slip of folded parchment. “I have received a note from Abiene. She will be working through tonight, but I am to call at the chapel tomorrow.”

Jerric felt an irrational surge of jealousy. “That’s, uh, great. I guess I’ll, you know, see her some other time.”

“Tomorrow is Heart’s Day,” said Darnand. He looked troubled.

Jerric’s mind balked at the connection. “Don’t worry, you don’t have to get me anything.” He rose abruptly and headed for the food cupboards. “Do you want a drink?” Is Abiene the one?

“No, thank you. The common quarters are largely empty. If the Mare becomes overcrowded with hopeful Polydors and Eloisas tomorrow night, there is plenty of room here.”

Jerric returned with an apple. His thoughts were not entirely eased. “Emfrid says I’ll still have the room. I guess folk will go anywhere for tradition, but the Mare isn’t much of a romantic hideaway.” I’ll be with Abiene tomorrow night, he thought. I’ll be with Abiene. He tried not to fidget under Darnand’s attention.

“Did you meet with Rasheda as you planned?” Darnand asked.

“Yeah.” He pulled his new steel-plated gauntlets out of the pack. “Take a look at these. I need you to go pay for them, the Blades—” Jerric looked around guiltily and lowered his voice. “The Blades order didn’t cover boots, helm, or gauntlets. I left my lucky boots there so Rasheda could fit plates to them. I mean, my speed boots. The arming points are already there from… before, but the plates were… well, they were on the wagon back to Kvatch. Anyway, I sure as hells wish I had my Helm of the Nord back.”

Darnand looked up from his examination. “There is an enchantment to fortify your strength, but I struggle to read the rest.”

“It has to do with menders’ magic. Rasheda trained me some more, but I still can’t use menders’ hammers on enchanted gear. If I wear those gauntlets, I can. She calls them Rasheda’s Special Gauntlets. Let’s enchant my katana.”

Excitement sprang up in Darnand’s eyes. He rose from his seat a little, then sat back down.

Jerric laughed. “You can do it whenever you like. With that sigil stone we got last month. I trust you.”

“We should discuss enchanting your new armor, now that you have means to repair it.”

“Yeah. There are a lot of things in the Deadlands that I can kill, but I need to be stronger, faster, and better protected if I want to keep making it back here. Undetected when I come across a fight I can’t win. Think on that, because even with my Arcane Well I’ve got no idea. It seems like I need two different things.”

Darnand nodded, already thinking. “I will give you the hood I enchanted for myself to use until you find another helm.”

Jerric’s eyebrows went up. “That’s generous. Course it will let folks know I’m a mage.”

“Indeed, and you will not benefit from a hood over a helm with your stunted magicka.”

“What’s the enchantment?”

“It combines magical resistance with shield magic.”

“That’s good,” Jerric said. “I would have guessed you’d fortify your magicka.”

Darnand looked abashed. “That was my intention. Lildereth convinced me to make a more defensive choice.”

“More balanced is how I guess she’d put it.”

They shared a look. “Those were her very words,” said Darnand.

Teekeeus entered the library and walked directly to their table. “I have a free moment, Associate,” he said to Jerric.

Jerric stood up. “Oh, uh, right. I’d like to…”

Teekeeus sat down. So did Jerric.

“I’d like to earn a recommendation from you. To the Arcane University.”

“Ah, yes. Though you are known to me, I’m afraid I can’t just write one out of hand. That would be against protocols, you see. If perhaps you can clear up a small matter involving a hostile mage, you can prove your loyalty to the guild and earn my recommendation.”

“Sure. What do I need to do?”

“There is an Altmeri female in town. Perhaps you have seen her loitering in Great Oak Place. Her name is Earana. She is a mage, but not a guild member. Though she has not approached me, I know she is here for something. I would like you to find out what it is. Determine what she’s after, and how we may be rid of her. I do not want her here, spreading her lies.”

Jerric couldn’t believe it. “She tried to hire me last night. She wants someone to go search a mountaintop for her.”

Teekeeus let out an agitated hiss. “Cloud Top?”

“She didn’t say.”

His claws made a small sound digging into the table. “It must be! She has found it! Earana seeks power that she has not earned. She has no respect for the Arcane Arts. She would accuse me of misusing my influence, but it is she who—” Teekeeus stilled his agitated fingers. Jerric could smell his musk.

“I could go back and let her hire me,” Jerric said. “Then she’d have to tell me what this is about.” The thought of deception made his stomach ache. “Although I guess she saw me come in here a little while ago.”

Teekeeus’ eyes narrowed. “That might work in our favor. Earana and I were once associates. Though I am certain that she is in Chorrol as a result of our proximity to Cloud Top, she cannot resist the opportunity to annoy me and harass guild mages.”

Jerric rubbed a hand over his face. “I’m really not very good at tricking people. Maybe I should just go up there and look around. I can tell you what I find.” The problem that was bothering him became clear in his mind. “Why do you think she wants to hire someone? Why doesn’t she just go up there herself?”

Teekeeus appeared to be lost in thought. Darnand glanced at his chapter head before he answered. “Why do folk travel in caravans, Jerric?”

“Well, the road can be dangerous. Highwaymen, wild animals, hostile creatures, goblins, daedra, not to mention bad weather and… Oh.”

“Indeed. The hills around Cloud Top are infested with imps. You will enjoy their company, of course. An Altmer would be more vulnerable to their attacks, as would someone like me, born under the Apprentice. The road is steep and often icy. The imps simply fly over the rocks. One cannot dodge their spells or flee from a swarm of them, as one might down here on the plains.”

“There is a possibility of landslides,” added Teekeeus.

Jerric realized that those were the same reasons that the Argonian was reluctant to go look for himself. “Can you show me on your map?” he asked Darnand. “How long do you think it will take?”

“Less than a day in good weather. Shall I accompany you? We could ride most of the way.”

Jerric shook his head. “No, and I’ll leave Ulfe. I’ll bring a bedroll just in case. I could stand to stretch my legs a little.”

Darnand caught Jerric’s eyes with his own. “You will wear your new armor.”

He knows I’ll be looking for Gates, Jerric realized. “Yeah.”

Teekeeus spoke. “There is a pillar in the ruin that has been transported there from another site. I suggest you begin your search in that area.” He moved toward the stairs to the living quarters. “I will await your report.”

Jerric leaned in toward Darnand. “Why didn’t he just talk to her himself? What do you know about this woman?”

“He does not trust himself,” said Darnand. “Appearances and protocol are important to Teekeeus. He does not want to find himself shouting at her in the street, or worse.”

“Do you know what happened between them?”

“I listened to the gossip last night. They were colleagues at the Arcane University, studying some sort of Ayleid weather magic. They had a difference of opinion. Teekeeus confessed their misdeeds to the Council of Mages, and she was expelled from the guild. However, she still had influential friends there. They pressured the Council to remove Teekeeus from his position for his part in their work. All of this happened some time ago. When I met him, he was already chapter head here in Chorrol.”

Jerric considered. “I guess that’s worse than just hitting him with some pain. What do you suppose I’m looking for?”

“I should think a person engaged in some activity, perhaps in possession of a specific item or papers. Teekeeus had some notes stolen from here in the guild hall some time ago. That is why there is an additional lock on his door. Perhaps Earana has been working with another mage, and they stole the notes.”

Jerric gave him the Lildereth-style eyebrow, or at least his best rendition.

Darnand shrugged. “It reflects poorly upon my character, but that is what I might do.”

That sat quietly with their thoughts for a moment. Jerric remembered the promise he had made the night before. He stuck the apple into his pack. “Say, have you had breakfast?”




.

Grr! It appears Jerric will have to cross paths with Earana again. Although he might not have a problem with this, I detest the woman! Haha

Although I enjoyed the small fact that Jerric had doubts about manipulating Earana for the sake of getting information for Teekneus. Very real and human. One of the many things I like about Jerric!

Can't wait to see what happens next

He was fairly certain she was not suggesting that his odor might carry across town, but he had returned to the washbasin for another scrub just the same.
Not a cold shower ?

I'm not sure I'd like to have an Armorer skill boost on a piece of armor. Murphy's law dictates that it would be broken when you needed to use it (to help repair itself). Let's hope this little quest will let him level up and he can get some more training from Rasheda. On a related note, I don't like using Sigil Stones on weapons, because they limit you to a single enchantment, and to my mind, a weapon needs damage + soul trap, so that it supplies its own recharge. Hopefully that stone would provide something useful on a replacement helm.

Eager to see what path you take through the FotM quest.

From that letter, I see what has Jerric in a good mood! I hope he does not forget it will be Heart's Day soon!

Jerric knew that these men produced important work for the guild, he just hadn’t witnessed it yet.
Reminds me of where I work...

She will be working through tonight, but I am to call at the chapel tomorrow
Too bad about that...

“I have a free moment, Associate,” he said to Jerric.
Well isn't that nice. Good for you boatmaster.

That would be against protocols, you see.
Because the protocols are to make the player character do some absolute b.s. fetch and carry grunt work that has nothing to do with magical study or research, and is really about being an unpaid mercenary for the chapter head. Sorry, do I sound jaded?

“Why do folk travel in caravans, Jerric?”
Unlike the game, you do give us a reason for why Earana does not just walk up to Cloud Top and get the useless book herself. That was good work.

I wonder when Jerric is planning on leaving on his expedition? Hearts Day would be my guess. Since he is meeting Abiene in the evening, that should work out. Of course then he needs to get a HD gift quick!

An interesting twist with Earana perhaps trying to get a mage to steal Teekeus' notes. That makes it more interesting. I also like that Jerric balked from the game's set course of double-crossing Earana. In the game I always thought Teekeus was much more despicable than Earana. Despite her haughty attitude (she is an Altmer after all), Earana plays straight with you. Teekeus OTOH demands that you double-cross her, and depending on how it plays out, rob her. Plus he blackmails you with your University recommendation to get you to do it. Talk about a slime-ball.

A beautiful note from Abiene!

I loved your description of the guild’s library – I could picture the one in the game, only yours is better.

So Darnand got a note from Abiene too. . . . I really enjoyed Jerric’s talking with Darnand while his internal thoughts contained hopes and some doubts about Abiene.

“Indeed. The hills around Cloud Top are infested with imps. You will enjoy their company, of course. An Altmer would be more vulnerable to their attacks, as would someone like me, born under the Apprentice. The road is steep and often icy. The imps simply fly over the rocks. One cannot dodge their spells or flee from a swarm of them, as one might down here on the plains.”
This is very neat! It reminds us of Jerric’s Atronach birthsign as well as the vulnerabilities inherent to the Apprentice sign or Altmeri race. It also, as SubRosa mentioned, explains why the task is not suited to parchment princes.

I’m looking forward to your treatment of the quest. I actually have no problem with Teekeeus; he does indeed give the prospective University student a chance to clearly prove their loyalty to the guild.

“Say, have you had breakfast?”
This is what Jerric says when he’s been forced to think too much. In this case about Abiene, Earana, enchanted armor and imp chips.

Wonderful episode, Grits!

WOO HOO !!! What an Awesome surprise this was !!!



SPEW !!! ROFL !!!



That's exactly what I've been wondering. Jerric is so torn, the jealousy and the best friend. He'll have to give one up if Abiene is the one Darnand was holding himself for. (Either be happy for his friend and give up the jealousy or lose Darnand's friendship if his jealousy rages - and maybe Abiene's too). She still has that problem of not wanting to be seen publically with Nords, ashamed of her draw to them. (or what she perceives her family will think of them).



Jerric really gets to know people on a deeper level, proven by this knowledge of Lildereth.

LOVED seeing Jerric up on the boards again, Awesome Write !!!!

I was grinning after reading the note, and then even more at Jerric’s return to the washbasin. I am looking forward to seeing Abiene again, even though I’m fairly certain that Darnand’s going to soon learn of their relationship.

I know which corner of the library Jerric will be most fond of. I wonder what Darnand’s reaction to that library was? Maybe access to that other one might have dulled some of the delight, but he didn’t have to pay in his life energy either. The library makes the Chorrol hall my favorite.

Where is Ulfe?”

“Out back playing with a couple of Khajiit kits.
How adorable!

“Do you want a drink?” Is Abiene the one?
Interesting. I didn’t anticipate Jerric being the first to figure it out, but then again, he’s the people person of the group.

Darnand read Jerric’s mind about the gates.

Blimey!!...Another love triangle?... ...

So...Are either of them going to make their minds (or whichever part required ) up?..

Loved both chapters...

Chorrol is pretty much my fave city...And you really are painting the place beautifully...

Emfrid is lovely in the game so it's cool to see her here...

Loving the mages guild place and Teekeus...Brilliant stuff...

Love every word of it... ...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

Rihanae: Thank you, Rihanae! You’re right, he’s eventually going to have to deal with Earana again. I’m happy to change the details, but I didn’t want to leave Earana completely out of the second part of this quest.

ghastley: Oh dear, I never thought of trying to repair broken gauntlets with broken gauntlets. In his game Jerric has used the unbreakable hammer for ages. He and Darnand are short soul gems and not guaranteed an opportunity to enchant anything, so the sigil stones are their best shot at a strong enchantment. Including Soul Trap would be far better, though. This quest has been much more fun to write than it was to play. Thank you, ghastley!

SubRosa: That’s the one thing I like about Earana, although taken as a whole I dislike her. She is up front about everything that she wants you to do (even about stealing the book back from Teekeeus), and she keeps her end of the deal if you help her. And if you don’t, she screams in your face in front of the whole town. Plus she’s well known as a trouble maker, which makes me think that she stirs the pot right out in the open. You’re right about Jerric’s schedule, he’s headed up hill in the morning. Thank you, SubRosa!

Acadian: You are exactly right about Jerric’s response to mental overload, if he can’t drop his trousers or punch something, he heads to the bar/kitchen. I’m glad you liked Abiene’s note. She has worked her way into five of this chapter’s episodes, starting with this one. The quest will come back through several updates as well. It’s been fun to play with since Darnand is connected to Chorrol, and Jerric is not having a single player experience. Thank you, Acadian!

mALX: Yep, you saw this conflict coming ages ago, and even though Jerric slammed the lid on it for now, the seed has been planted. You’re right, he’s going to struggle with his loyalties if he doesn’t manage to keep ignoring or denying it. And you know he’s too intuitive to miss the next hint. Thank you, mALX!

King Coin: I’m sure you can tell how much I like that library. Darnand has probably read every book in there, but that’s one of the few places that gives him a feeling of home. I thought you’d like those Khajiit kits. I think Khajiit and wood elf youngsters would be unbelievably cute. Thank you, KC!

McBadgere: You’re back, yay! I’m glad you’re enjoying Chorrol. There’s a little more sight-seeing next. I think Argonian communication could be interesting, with lots of clicks and hisses that could color meaning, possibly a scent language, plus the whole Hist thing. Teekeeus gave them a nose full of “I’m upset.” Thank you, McB!

Where we are: Chorrol. Jerric has been tasked with searching Cloud Top for evidence of something. Darnand got a note from Abiene asking him to visit her today. Jerric got a note from Abiene asking him to meet her at the guest cottage tonight. This one ran a touch long. I blame Abiene.




Chapter 15: Chorrol, Part Eight


Darnand stepped out of Renoit’s Books and turned toward the chapel. The day’s shopping had gone well, for the most part. His negotiation with Rasheda had left them both outraged, a sure sign of a well-struck bargain. He had purchased a sturdy, even tempered gelding, well-suited to their needs and unremarkable in appearance. Their camp inventory had been pared down to essentials, easily carried by three horses with riders. He had even bolstered Jerric’s supply of undergarments, hoping that the Nord might someday decide to wear them.

His search for the Commentaries was the only disappointment. None of Chorrol’s book vendors had offered any leads.

A gust of wind cut through Darnand’s robe and sent hair flopping into his eyes again. One hand pushed it back nervously as the other renewed his warming spell. Vanity was the source of these troubles. This new robe looked well on him, but it was more suited for early autumn than cold spring. His winter cloak was finely made but too travel-worn to make a good appearance, and so he did without. Jerric was right to tease about this impractical haircut. At least he had not committed the foolishness of new shoes. His old ones had cleaned up nicely with a few hours’ effort, and this way he would not spend the afternoon hiding sore feet from a healer.

His steps quickened when he saw her. Standing on the chapel stairs in conversation with a Chorrol Guardsman. She touched the man’s arm in farewell and skipped down to meet him.

“Darnand!” she cried.

“Abiene.” Everything in his heart was there in her name. He couldn’t breathe for a moment.

Then she bounced up and kissed his cheek, laughing. “I’m so pleased to see you!”

She wore her brown cloak, but her hands were freezing. He tucked one through his arm and warmed it with his. “You’re not using your spell against the cold.”

“I need all of my magicka for treatments,” Abiene sighed. “I use so many potions, I hardly want to eat any more. I’ll have rounds again when I return. I’m so glad you didn’t mind meeting me in the afternoon.” She squeezed his arm and smiled up at him. “Shall we walk? I miss our evening strolls, my friend.”

Darnand turned their steps toward Fountain Gate. He kept her arm in his and cast the frost resistance spell over both of them.

“Tell me of your studies,” said Darnand.

“I have much to learn from Master Selvilo, but there is often tension between us. Where I would hope for compassion over piety in a healer, he wishes the reverse of me.”

“Your field bridges faith, medicine, and magic. There will certainly be conflict between practitioners. Tell me, how did you proceed with the brain-injured man?”

A shadow fell over Abiene’s face. Now he saw how pale and drawn she looked. “I could not heal him. I tried, Darnand. Even after he was discharged from the healing hall, I met him in secret and still tried. There is so much I don’t know about what’s inside someone’s head. I found where connections had been severed, but I didn’t have the power to remake them. I shouldn’t have even tried. He stopped breathing once. I almost lost him, Darnand. It was terrifying!”

A Redguard couple smiled and greeted Abiene, but they didn’t stop to chat. Other folk on the street gave her the same treatment, Darnand noticed. She was familiar to many, but they all gave her privacy.

“Master Selvilo is not troubled by fear,” Abiene continued. “When someone dies on our table, he just goes on. It doesn’t touch him. He sees them as conditions, not beings. I just can’t do that. Carahil was right about me. I don’t know if I’m made for this work.”

“You will find your own way, I am certain. It is difficult to be patient with oneself.”

Abiene chewed on her lip for a few moments as they walked. Finally she spoke, barely above a whisper. “I think I should try… I believe it would help to… examine the dead. In an invasive manner. Particularly those who have died of head trauma.” Her troubled eyes found his. “Do you…?”

“I know the kind of examination you mean. Your caution is justified. An evaluation while the subject still lives would be more instructive, but of course I could not condone such a thing.” Abiene looked shocked, so he quickly continued. “As I told you before, I have found material in my studies that would be of interest to you. Not the rituals that reanimate a body, but the methods that necromancers use to repair their constructs. The transfer of energy is the same.” He had to squash the urge to blurt out the knowledge he had gained from Ilmerion. Another time, he told himself.

After another long moment, Abiene nodded her head. “Thank you, Darnand. I will borrow your materials. And I will be careful.”

Their path took them around the Healer’s Hand statue and up through the castle grounds. The reflecting pool still held patches of ice, scored by marks from ice skates. Darnand led them on the wandering trail through the boulders between the castle and Great Oak Place.

“My mother enjoyed walking here,” Darnand remarked before he could think what he was saying.

“Did you live nearby?” Abiene’s tone was gentle and warm again.

“Indeed. Penoit Hall is on Great Oak Place. For years I lived at the guild hall right beneath my brother’s windows. I taught myself not to see him.”

Abiene pressed his arm between her hands. As much as Darnand appreciated her joyful energy, it was her quiet way of soothing that caught at the heart. Somehow she just knew.

They stopped and sat with their shoulders touching on the sunny side of the Great Oak. Darnand recounted tales of their journey from Anvil. Abiene laughed at all of the right moments. For a time they shared a companionable silence, simply watching folk pass by. Darnand shied away from sharing more personal thoughts, as it left him feeling exposed and uncomfortable. The chapel bells rang. It was time for him to summon the nerve and speak up.

Abiene gave herself a tiny shake and spoke first. “Tell me some more of our friends. How is dear Lildereth?”

Darnand found he couldn’t swallow, much less speak. Only Abiene could call the elf “dear,” but that would sound rude even if he hadn’t recently coupled with her. He glanced down the street, desperate for distraction. A tall figure strode toward them, steps light despite his packs and weapons. The man’s hair stood up as if caught by a windstorm.

“Jerric,” he said with a rush of relief. His friend’s face lit up when he saw them. After a quick grin at Darnand, Jerric’s eyes stayed locked on Abiene.

They stood as Jerric reached them. When he held his hands out, Abiene stepped into his embrace. Darnand heard Jerric’s rumble and Abiene’s soft reply. He noticed his hood buttoned at Jerric’s throat but pushed down his back.

“Have you been ill?” Jerric asked her.

Abiene pressed her palms against his breastplate. “That’s a nice way to greet a friend.”

Jerric leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. “I’m sorry. Abiene, it’s good to see you. How was that?”

“Better,” she smiled. “New armor? You looked tired, Jerric. How are you resting?”

Jerric and Darnand exchanged a look, and Abiene laughed. “I can’t help myself,” she admitted.

“I’m on my way to the guild hall. Thought I’d drop off my gear and maybe throw a stick for the dog. Have you two eaten? You both could stand a meal, I’d wager.” Jerric gave him a significant look over Abiene’s head.

He found something at Cloud Top, Darnand realized. “Perhaps—”

“Not at the guild hall,” said Abiene. “No, thank you.”

Jerric gave one of his quick nods. “I’ll catch up with you later, Darnand. Abiene, it’s good to see you. Breton, take this lady somewhere nice. After all, it’s Heart’s Day.” The Nord hoisted his pack over a shoulder, shifting his weight in the way that signaled an impending dash into the bushes. Darnand supposed that the wearing of heavy armor required a certain mastery of the bowels.

He would have liked a little time to prepare himself, but Darnand had a suggestion ready. “I know a quiet place where they serve the cuisine of Evermore,” he said to Abiene. “It is in West Chorrol. Will you accompany me? I would like to dine with you. Perhaps they have made some pinwheel cakes.”

Abiene’s sweet smile told him she remembered. “I would be honored.” She took his arm and looked up at Jerric. “I’ll see you soon, my friend.”

Jerric sent Darnand another meaningful look as he turned away. I shall have to ask him to explain later, Darnand thought. There is only so much I can read in a tilted head and wrinkled brows.

The House of Fournier was a single-family dwelling west of the chapel. Mister and Mistress Fournier had been serving meals on the ground level as long as Darnand could remember. It was the one restaurant in Chorrol where he could be sure to get a table on Heart’s Day. Mistress Fournier had been a friend of his mother’s.

The menu was written on a slate propped outside the door. Everyone received the same meal, cooked at the back of the house and served by the family’s own hands. They paired excellent wine with every course. In a small way it felt like an echo of home.

Mistress Fournier greeted them with unrestrained cheer. “Darnand! What a surprise! And who is your guest?” She turned her head and called toward the back of the house. “Thierre! Come and see, Darnand has returned!”

Darnand could remember every hateful word he had hurled at these generous people. Their forgiveness did not allow him to pardon himself, but overcoming his awkwardness was its own penance. He and Abiene were soon ensconced at a round table in front of the fire.

“To awaken the palate,” announced Mister Fournier. He slid a small plate between them while his wife poured sparkling wine. Each tiny cracker featured a different smear of paste, an herb leaf, and an additional small something. One held a trio of fish eggs, another a single bean. Abiene clasped her hands in delight.

Darnand relaxed. Everything would be perfect.

The meal seemed to pass quickly, though the many small courses were paced for leisurely appreciation. Abiene savored her food and wine with a Dibellan’s grace. Darnand found his concerns melting to the back of his mind as he simply enjoyed her company. He was surprised when he discovered their plates had been cleared away. He realized it was time.

Darnand slipped a hand into his robe pocket. He had spent hours searching Anvil’s clothiers, jewelers, and general merchants until he had considered every bracelet that was for sale in the city. He possessed an eye for quality, but no knowledge of fashion. In the end he had chosen a piece that simply looked like Abiene. A slender crescent of tiger whelk shell that should fit as snugly as a cuff against her wrist. The only pattern was the shell’s own subtle variations in color and translucence. Now that the moment had arrived, his confidence deserted him.

He passed the package across. “For your birthday.”

Abiene’s face lit with pure delight, even before she opened the wrapper. “Oh, thank you!” She held her arm out for him to see. “Darnand, it’s perfect! It will complement everything I wear. What’s the enchantment?”

“It is a spell I wrote for you. Similar to Sea Strider, but… Give me your hands, I will show you.”

Abiene learned the spell all too quickly. “It’s a rain bracelet! You remembered how I admired Carahil’s.” She tilted her head to the side as he let go. “You made this spell? At the Praxographical Center?”

“No, in a… private facility. With Lildereth’s help I gained access to the Chironasium, but I should not like to attempt that deception a second time.”

“You enchanted it yourself, too? Darnand, thank you.” She ran her fingers across the bracelet. “I suppose I shouldn’t ask you any more questions, Associate.”

Darnand felt himself flush. His urgent conjugation with Lildereth had given rise to a host of specific thoughts about Abiene. It was hard to focus on Abiene’s admirable character when her lips curled into that teasing smile.

“I have a new spell to show you, as well,” she told him. “Though I did not create it. Here.” She dipped a fingertip into her wine and drew a line across his palm. The sensation shot straight through him. Abiene licked her finger and then held her hand out flat, facing down at the table. Pale blue light glowed under it. “This is the spell we use to debride wounds. It eliminates everything that is not the patient’s living tissue. That includes fingernails and the occasional tooth, so hold still.”

When she passed the light over his palm, the droplets simply disappeared.

“Destruction?” he guessed, shifting in his seat.

“They said Alteration. I suppose it changes everything into air. It’s not a strong spell for safety reasons, so glass shards and splinters take some effort to remove.” She ran her thumb along the base of his fingers. “How did you get these calluses? Do you want me to dissolve them?”

“No, thank you. I should not like to experience the blisters again.” Darnand gently withdrew his hand. “I have been sparring with Jerric. He is teaching me to block with my walking stick. I hold out the hope of someday landing a blow, should he ever be sufficiently distracted.”

Mistress Fournier approached, to Darnand’s regret. He hoped he would not need to stand for at least a few more minutes.

“May I bring your desserts?” she asked.

“Oh, yes!” said Abiene.

Pinwheel cakes were not among the offerings, but Abiene did not seem disappointed. She laughed and teased through the rest of the meal, dividing even the smallest meringue so they could each have a taste. The sweets brought nostalgia, and Abiene shared her memories of home. Darnand’s mind strayed to Saturalia. His arms ached to hold her again.

Too soon they were standing in the crisp moonlight. Abiene tugged her hood around her face. As ever, her smile was framed by unruly curls.

I could procure a room for us, Darnand thought. This day is for lovers, no inn would turn us away.

He cleared his throat. “Perhaps we should return to the chapel. You might rest before your next shift. May I walk with you?”




.

*

Darnand never ceases to surprise with his depths. He is seemingly the same, but the changes in him this past year are seeming so subtly wrought that it is hard to tell if they really are changes or strengths he's always had that we just didn't notice until time passed and we came to know him. (as much as Darnand lets anyone know him, lol. His idea of spilling his guts ends up being under three words and is the equivalent of one of Jerric's grunts, ROFL !!)

I could envision Darnand with a bright red face (inadvertantly giving away their intimate secret) when Abiene asked about Lildereth, ROFL !!

Jerric's first words to Abiene being about a meal, ROFL !!! No wonder she is afraid to marry a Nord, who could afford to feed one? ROFL !!!




SPEW !!! Can't read what you don't want to, more like. Darnand is making his move and Jerric + saving Cyrodiil have to take a weak second place, ROFL !!!



It appears Darnand is ready enough for making that move he is trying to accomplish, ROFL !!!

Uh oh, Darnand chickened out at the last minute. That gives Jerric a foot in the door to make this Heart’s Day special for Abiene - Dibella style. Urk, this is a cliffhanger for me !!!

Totally AWESOME WRITE !!!!!!


*

His negotiation with Rasheda had left them both outraged, a sure sign of a well-struck bargain.
This gave me more than a faint smile.

I see Darnand has spiffed himself up for his meeting with the Abster. Troubador hair, fancy robe, shoes buffed up for hours. Every girl's crazy about a sharp dressed man. I suppose we will see about that though...

“Abiene.” Everything in his heart was there in her name. He couldn’t breathe for a moment.
Poor man, he still has it bad. Nothing hurts like unrequited love.

There is so much I don’t know about what’s inside someone’s head.
Wow, a woman who is honest! Sorry, in spite of the serious subject, that one line just leapt out at me.

I liked Abiene's description of her teacher, and how you have chosen to present him. Both he and Abiene represent different ends of the medical/healer spectrum. Those who want to help people with all of their hearts, and those who have hardened their hearts against feeling loss when the inevitable failure happens. Abiene has a difficult quandry. She feels too much for her patients, and if she continues on as she is, eventually she will burn out. Like she said, she might not be made for this after all. I can relate to how she feels. I love animals so much that I could never be a veterinarian. But I am so calloused toward people that I could be a doctor with no problem. I am even like that watching movies. I can see humans being killed left and right and not feel a thing. But kick one dog, and I am all in an emotional uproar.

And Jerric makes his cryptic appearance. I wonder if he was giving long meaningful glances to Darnand about Earana? She does like to haunt the Great Oak.

And Darnand knows a French restaurant! I hope there aren't any snails on Abiene's plate! What a wonderful bracelet! Plus and excellent enchantment. Now Abiene can walk between the raindrops. I felt so bad for him the entire time though. He is so head over heels for Abiene, and so utterly doomed. Whenever he finally works up the nerve to spill the beans, it is going to be ugly.

That is a very handy spell of Abiene's that removes foreign or dead tissue. One of the worst killers with bullet wounds is not the bullet itself, but the pieces of cloth that get pushed in the wound. Then they rot, and cause fatal infections. Where the bullet OTOH is sterilized from the heat of being fired from the gun.

I was going to write something about putting the genie back in the bottle, but that seemed inappropriate as a metaphor.

Or right on the mark, as that is exactly what Darnand's mind is leading to. Unfortunately, he lacks the courage to leap on her like a hungry leopard and...er...dip his genie in her bottle.

‘Their path took them around the Healer’s Hand statue and up through the castle grounds. The reflecting pool still held patches of ice, scored by marks from ice skates. Darnand led them on the wandering trail through the boulders between the castle and Great Oak Place.’
Another magnificently immersive Grits description that seems to flow so effortlessly from your quill.

‘Abiene’s sweet smile told him she remembered.’
This was perfect. There was a nagging familiarity about the pinwheels. When Abiene remembered, so did I – the ball at Castle Anvil with Darnand and splitting the sweets and dancing. . . .

What a neat reminder of Darnand’s interests and Abiene’s thirst for healing knowledge as the two discussed opening a dead skull up to see how the insides work.

I was impressed by Jerric’s restrained and rather gentlemanly behavior when the trio briefly crossed paths.

‘He hoped he would not need to stand for at least a few more minutes.’

‘I could procure a room for us, Darnand thought. This day is for lovers, no inn would turn us away.
He cleared his throat. “Perhaps we should return to the chapel. You might rest before your next shift. May I walk with you?”
By Dibella, there is quite a disconnect between Darnand’s thoughts and his words – how delightful that this was from his perspective so we could snoop on his thoughts!

As ever, you captured Darnand, Abiene and Jerric perfectly here.

Sounds like they’ve been keeping Abiene busy with healing. Poor Darnand, he gets to take her for the evening stroll and Jerric gets to share her bed at night! Just as before, Abiene gets too wrapped up in her patients, sneaking out to heal a brain injury and almost killing the man! I can hardly fault her for such a quality though, taking a real interest in her practice and people. The people like and respect her for it.

Yikes! Darnand knows a lot about necromancy!

I wonder… if Abiene’s healing methods also allow her to read people. She seemed to do that quite well with Darnand. Maybe it was just familiarity though. Now that I think of it, I think it’s familiarity. If she could read people, then Darnand’s crush would never have been so.

Curse the lack of confidence! That was a Heart’s Day present, not a birthday present!

To the chapel? C’mon, you had the right idea with the inn before. Ah, too bad she has plans already anyways.

Here's a second update this week, I didn’t want to wait too long since the last section and the next two go so closely together. I’m sure this won’t become a habit! Also, I went back in the last part and edited Darnand’s thought to “He has found something at Cloud Top” to make it more clear what Jerric was contorting his face about. Just thought I’d mention it.

mALX: Thank you for your kind words about Darnand. I have been waiting so long for the chance to let him show what’s really on his mind. After all, the whole story opened with Darnand thinking about Abiene (and annoyed with Jerric ). You’re right, saving the world is going to have to wait until after Heart’s Day. That’s two more updates, so keep holding on to that cliff!! Thank you so much, mALX!

SubRosa: You are exactly right about Abiene’s dilemma. Carahil has been telling her for over a year, and now Abiene has finally admitted it to herself. Abiene’s journey deserves its own story, or so she keeps insisting. So it's good to know her parts are coming through when she gets her moments. I’m glad you liked the Debride spell. (It took me forever to work out the details.) The way healing works in Jerric’s world would result in a lot of abscesses and lingering infections if done improperly, so folk still need chapels and trained healers. Thank you, Subrosa!

ghastley: Thank you so much for that mental image! And you’re right, there’s no going back now.

Acadian: I have been waiting for a chance to give Darnand his own episode, since as you pointed out the disconnect between his thoughts and his words makes most of his mind a complete mystery to observers. Even when Jerric gets it right, he’s only catching part of the story. There will be another Darnand part in this chapter, since that’s the only way I know to get his thoughts across. He is not a big communicator. Whew, I really hoped that the pinwheel cakes would be a reminder of their warm friendship, so that the depth Darnand’s feeling wouldn’t seem like something new. Thank you so much, Acadian!

King Coin: Darnand is definitely getting a bad deal this Heart’s Day! While I was writing the next parts I kept thinking, unfair! Interesting that you brought up whether Abiene can read people. Jerric has his suspicions, since she’s very good at guessing. Plus she’s admitted that she connects on an emotional and spiritual level with her patients, which gives her more to work with. She’ll explain more about where she gets her abilities while the crew is in Chorrol, but as you determined, she’s not a mind reader. Although if she could peek into people’s thoughts, she totally would! For their own good, of course. Thank you, KC!

Where we are: Heart’s Day in Chorrol. Jerric has returned from his mountain mission and attempted to communicate through wiggling his eyebrows. Darnand has wined and dined Abiene, then dropped her off at the chapel door. Lildereth is in parts unknown.




Chapter 15: Chorrol, Part Nine


Jerric spent the hours before dinner cleaning and stowing his gear. For all the dangers Teekeeus and Earana must have feared, Jerric had only encountered winter-lean deer, one shy wolf, and a few frisky imps. He and the imps had traded frost and shock spells most of the way up one long set of steps, until the biggest one swooped close enough for Jerric to smack it with his shield. Then the imps developed a sudden interest in some unseen quarry, leaving him alone for the rest of the climb. During the whole day in the hills, Jerric hadn’t even once drawn a blade.

Thoughts of Darnand and Abiene wanted to creep into his mind, but he kept his attention on his hands. In time this new armor would become as familiar as his skin. He carefully examined every strap, buckle, and rivet after the day’s exercise. Rasheda’s work was without fault. She had put a matte finish on the dark metal and slightly mis-matched the pieces as if some plates had been replaced. Wearing it, Jerric had the look of a hard-working mercenary who had invested heavily in his shield and swords.

Jerric gave himself a sniff test after he hung his arming doublet and leggings to air. Good enough for dinner. He shrugged into a tunic and loose trousers. As he closed the cupboard, an unfamiliar parcel caught his eye. Darnand, he thought with a grin. Let’s see what he bought me.

Linen drawers, a pair of doeskin camp moccasins, and a tin of armpit powder. Jerric laughed. The Breton did manage to trip over Jerric’s boots at least once every night. He supposed the absence of a spare comb and breath freshener should be considered a compliment.

There was something under the stack of undergarments. Jerric laughed again. It was a wide-toothed comb.

Dinner was roast pork, sour cabbage, mashed potatoes, pickled beets and onions, and kale cooked with vinegar and red pepper flakes. Jerric hoped that spring vegetables would be in by the time they reached Cheydinhal. He wondered what Darnand and Abiene were having.

Earana was the subject on everyone else’s mind. “I passed her in the circle this afternoon,” said Angalmo. “You wouldn't believe the look she gave me!”

Alberic gestured with his fork. “Whatever her problem is, she's taking it out on the entire guild!”

Jerric waited for Teekeeus to speak up, but he kept his lips tight and his eyes narrow. The Argonian drank more than he ate. Jerric decided to speak with Earana the next time he saw her.

After dinner at the Chorrol hall meant brandy and pipes in the library, followed by cheese and fruit, then eventually kahve and sweets. Jerric took Ulfe for a walk around Great Oak Place instead. The hound loved to run after sticks, but her retrieving was not reliable. She often romped back full of pride and expectations, leaving her toy where it landed. Jerric would compensate by elaborately miming another throw. Sometimes Ulfe returned with a rock, a bone, or an entirely different stick.

The chapel bells rang nine of the evening watch. Jerric looked down the street toward Fountain Gate for the hundredth time. What was taking them so long? He planned to head to the bathhouse shortly after Darnand returned to the guild hall. That would give Abiene time to see to her patients and allow him to arrive at her doorstep in as fresh a condition as possible. Now he began to wonder if his friend was on some unspoken errand. He decided to go clean his teeth to kill some time.

Ulfe pranced over to Athragar as they passed through the library. She sat down in front of him as precisely as if posing for a statue. The Bosmer crooned to her as he carved off several Septim’s worth of finely veined blue cheese. Ulfe accepted his offering with the dignity of a queen. Then she swiped Athragar’s face with her tongue.

“Have you read the materials I gave you?” Athragar asked Jerric, drying off with a pocket square.

“Uh, no. Not all of them.” Athragar raised an admonitory finger. “I’ve memorized the incantations,” Jerric said quickly. “I chanted for hours in my head today. I don’t even hear the words any more, just like you said.”

“In that case, let us proceed as we planned. We will spend tomorrow preparing you for the ritual. Keep your fast on Morndas morning. Water and kahve are permitted, but not so much that you will need to relieve yourself once you are sealed in the summoning chamber.”

“Uh, yeah. All right.” Athragar was slicing another small fortune from the block of cheese. “Not too much of that,” Jerric told him, heading up to the guild hall’s austere bathing chamber. Ulfe ignored him. He suspected that so would Athragar.

Back on the ground level, Jerric met Darnand coming in the front door.

“What did you find at Cloud Top?” Darnand asked in greeting.

“A book, a Staff of Paralysis, some rolls of parchment, a couple of magicka potions, and one very dead fetcher. Burned up, but not by fire. Lightning, maybe. Fellow had a Welkynd stone on him. I found the rest in his pack. Hadn’t been there long. His pack still had two good apples.”

Darnand looked about to burst.

“Teekeeus has the lot,” Jerric continued. “I’m sorry, Darnand. He was on me like fleas on a troll the minute I walked through the door. Damned stupid, I should have waited for you before I came back here. How was your Breton dinner?”

“Did you happen to examine any of the materials? Did you read anything at all?”

“Yeah, but I’d need you to make sense of it. The notes I could read were all about atmospheric energy, and the rest were in Aldmeris. I couldn’t even open the book. Whatever he was doing up there, I don’t think he planned for it to take long. No camp supplies.”

Darnand crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you have a few moments?”

Jerric wanted to bolt out the door, but Darnand had something on his mind. “Yeah,” said Jerric. He gave Darnand his attention.

“Have you decided how we should enchant your armor?” Darnand asked. With a gesture he indicated that Jerric should precede him to the basement.

“Yeah,” said Jerric, heading down the stairs. “I want to make myself stronger, and increase my chance of absorbing spells. My boots make me faster, but I wouldn’t say no to another speed boost. Plus I need to get through some spots undetected, so that means being a better sneak.”

“We must choose carefully. I am a rank beginner in this art. I only know how to place a single enchantment on a piece of equipment.”

“What about Abiene’s ring? You put two on that.”

“I used a spell that has two effects. That is one enchantment.” He put out his hand to forestall Jerric’s complaints. “I suppose given enough time I might write another spell for you, but I do not think that you would want to wait.”

Jerric eyebrows went up. “Another spell?”

“Did I not mention it? Well, this is not the time. I suggest that we place an enchantment on your armor that is specific to your needs while you are wearing it. Perhaps one that will muffle the horrendous noise you make. Lildereth has taught me her spell. I am afraid there is not even a small chance that you will learn it. You might make potions to enhance your offensive skills and fortify your defense, but not to quiet your movements. As you have already concluded, there will be some conflicts that you would be well advised to avoid.”

Jerric thought about it.

“You should wear the Ring of Khajiiti in the Deadlands,” Darnand added. “It will further increase your speed, and its Chameleon effect is quite strong. You will not go unseen, but with caution you might go unnoticed.”

They had reached Darnand’s cupboard, next to Jerric’s. The Breton produced Jerric’s katana, offering it across his palms in the gesture that must be familiar even to mages.

Jerric slipped the blade halfway out of its sheath. Red magicka danced along it, backed by a shudder of darkness. “Blade of the Medic,” he murmured.

Darnand looked astonished. “That is what I would have named it!”

“Not Sword of the Healer?” Perhaps he would say something about Abiene.

“Stendarr, no. This weapon will suck the very life from your enemies, applying the energy indiscriminately through your body as would a mindless potion. Even the damage to your muscles and joints caused by your own strikes and shield work will be repaired by this blade. You will emerge from many battles renewed. Your healers will curse you for any badly mended wounds, but it is a comfort that you might be alive to hear them.”

Jerric put the blade away. “I guess that quieting enchantment bears some thought. I know what the elf would say.” He leaned against the cupboard. “How’s our supply of magicka gems? Do you think you can get an altar here to work?”

“I have acquired an empty gem from Contumeliorus. We will need as much power as possible for a stronger effect. I should think a bear, if you could find one.”

“I’ll ask Lildereth what she thinks, if she ever gets here. Maybe she’ll take me hunting.” Not for some sleeping bear, Jerric already knew. He was confident she would come up with an appropriate target.

“Lildereth does not know the Soul Trap spell,” Darnand pointed out. He looked uneasy.

“You mean you don’t want to go bear hunting? I have that dagger, remember? Your Soul Is Mine.”

Darnand’s face was a picture. Jerric guessed that poking a powerful creature with a short blade might seem like a bad idea to many.

Time was pressing on him. He grabbed the day pack out of his cupboard and made a move for the stairs. “You should head up to the library. They’re on their second pipe by now, I’d wager. And Athragar is trying to kill your dog with cheese.”

That got Darnand moving. Only a few things upset Ulfe’s digestion, and Jerric had just named one of them. He wondered if Darnand knew a spell to cure flatulence in a hound. He’d have to sleep with a window open if he didn’t.

Jone’s Shadow let Jerric run the distance to the bathhouse without attracting attention. Anticipation had tightened into tension. He kept it back by letting Abiene fill his mind, until every part of him ached for her. He remembered the look on her face when she first saw him. The way she listened so perfectly still, and how her laugh made his heart sing. He thought of her slender neck, and the fine line of tiny hairs down between her shoulders. That way she’d breathe as he entered her. The hundred different ways she smiled.

Clean enough, he decided. And no need to tie all of these laces.

Back on the street he kicked himself for not saving invisibility for the final stretch to the guest cottage. I shouldn’t meet her, he thought, taking the steps along the sidewalk two at a time. I’m putting her in danger. Like Piner. Maybe even the Odiils. Anxiety ate his belly and despair lapped at his heels. He looked over his shoulder to see if anyone was watching, then cursed himself for acting suspicious. Every shadow seemed to conceal a red-robed figure. They dress in regular clothes and summon their armor, he reminded himself. They could be anyone.

There was more to his disquiet, he finally admitted. Darnand’s words came back to him, unwelcome. “Tomorrow is Heart’s Day,” in that troubled tone. Was he really only thinking of overcrowded inns? He had enchanted a bracelet for Abiene’s birthday. Jewelry hinted at more than friends. Yet he hadn’t questioned that Jerric had gotten her a ring.

Jerric walked past the guest cottage and doubled back through the park after an Imperial gave him a sideways look. It took several moments without passing footsteps before he would move around to the front.

There was nothing he wouldn’t give Darnand. The thought of hurting him felt like a punch to the gut.

The cottage door was painted a cheery red, and the hardware was polished brass. He wondered how long it would hold if someone tried to break it down. I shouldn’t be here, Jerric thought. The most dangerous thing in Chorrol might be my feet on this porch. Even after he knocked, he tried to make himself walk away.

Then the door opened, and there was only Abiene.

Don’t worry Jerric, Darnand’s making it easy to get your romp in tonight.

Darnand’s supplies for Jerric had me rolling! Glad they are looking out for each other! The Mages sure know how to spend an evening. I thought Jerric would join them for more eating, I suppose he’s got Abiene on his mind instead of his stomach. (what a shock!)

Aaand Jerric’s nightly activities with Abiene are going to be delayed by Darnand. A little revenge for him even if he doesn’t know it! The muffle spell! A little bit of Skyrim, and one of Aravi’s favorite spells. Nice enchantment on the katana, Aravi made an absorb life blade as well. I believe hers is called Retribution.

Now Jerric’s displaying some paranoia. And it occurs to him again that Darnand has feelings for the same woman. I have to say that I’m pleased he even thought of those things at least before he spent the night with Abiene.

*



ROFL !!! Now I can laugh about that same scene for another week, between that and Ghastley's Genie in the Bottle I have not stopped laughing since the last chapter posted!

From the paragraph that began "Jone’s Shadow" to the end I found myself holding my own breath with Jerric's thoughts. That whole section was HUGE with tension and now another cliffhanger !!! ARGH !!! Awesome Write !!! Totally Awesome !!!


*

So Jerric's facial contortions were not due to something he ate after all! Just kidding. I figured it was about him fingering the mountain.

I wonder if Jerric's "good enough for dinner" sniff test equals "ewwww!" for the rest of us?

Ulfe and her errant fetching antics are much fun, as usual.

So Teekeus got the goods eh? I expected him to be all over Jerric like fleas on troll (excellent metaphor there). Now I wonder if the dynamic duo will steal it back from Teekeus so they can find out what is really in that book. I suppose they might even take it to Earana for translating, then swipe it back from her, and put it back in Teekeus' things when they are done. If they are quick enough, Teek won't even be the wiser.

The Blade of the Medic, I might have gone with The Vampires Kiss, but who am I to argue? Absorb Health is potent stuff. Especially at high levels of it. My Mazken Aerin enchanted her sword with a sigil stone Absorb Health of 25 points. She would fight Clannfears in melee and come out without a scratch.

Jerric's caution and self doubt is well deserved here, given that he is something of a marked man by the Mythic Dawn. But I doubt many people would let that stop them from making a rendezvous with that special someone. I would not. Then all that falls away, and there is only the Abster.

'Dinner was roast pork, sour cabbage, mashed potatoes, pickled beets and onions, and kale cooked with vinegar and red pepper flakes.'
Thank you so much, Chef Grits, for feeding me! Yum!

The antics of the stick-chasing Ulfe are wonderful! She shares a similar trait with our skirt-chasing heroic Nord and, it seems, just as likely to fetch up the wrong one. And fun to see Athragar suffer the dignity of being tongued by a queen.

“I guess that quieting enchantment bears some thought. I know what the elf would say.”
So do I!

Sobering thoughts invade Jerric’s mind as he tries to sneak like a Khajiit to his rendezvous. MD sleepers, Darnand’s interest in Abiene, his own ache for her. . . . What a wonderful ending to this episode!